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mortyvongola2-0 · 2 years

Text

Sacrificed

Pairing: God!Madara Uchiha x Reader

Genre: Oneshot, filthy filthy smut

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: too many to count, afab!reader, rough sex, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, the Uchiha breeding kink, creampie, unprotected sex, aphrodisiacs, Madara has a big dick Uchiha, blindfolds, hands are tied, stomach bulge, mating press, overstimulation, some temperature play, strong language

A/N: This monstrosity has way too many tags, forgive me if I didn't tag every kink. Honestly this was only supposed to have like, two kinks or so, but uh obviously that did not happen and I'm not sorry about it. If this one does well enough I plan on writing a Sacrificed for each of the founders trio, and if I feel the inspiration after that I could add other Naruto characters as well so, let me know if that's something you'd be interested in.

A HUGE thank you to @therantingfangirl for helping me edit this oversized self indulgence! She's the best you guys, I love her and you should send some love her way! This wouldn't have been out as quickly, and would've had many more typos lol, if not for her. So tell her thank you for me~

edit 7/30/22: WE NOW HAVE ART!! A biiiig huge thank you to the amazing @skydaddy01 for their incredible art. They did a fanfuckingtastic job creating god!Madara's appearance, especially with so little to go off of because I'm bad at asking for things. Seriously, go check them out, especially if you like the art~

Without further ado, enjoy Sacrificed (Sun)

Read it on AO3

Villagers scattered about, decorating homes and streets alike, preparing drums and costumes with jovial attitudes; the excitement was palpable. Most everyone looked forward to the Festival of the Sun, it was hard not to! The music, the ritual dancing, the offerings of food and wine to the gods as well as loved ones were certainly something to be excited about. The festivities themselves lasted for an entire week. It had to in order to entice him down from his place of rest. He was hard to excite, after all.

The Festival of the Sun is performed once a year before the cold season begins in order to plead with the sun god for protection from death during the upcoming frost. At the peak of the festivities, a living sacrifice is offered to the deity, but seldom does he come down. Most sacrifices come back without having even felt his presence, however throughout the history of the festival there were rare instances of his sacrifice being found dead at the end of the celebrations. The manner of death was always the same, burnt from the inside out. These instances came to be synonymous with having met him.

That fact made you, the sacrifice chosen for the upcoming celebrations, a bit nauseated. The idea of meeting the sun god made you nervous for many reasons; you were his devout follower, a young peasant chosen by the temple due to your dedication to your faith. At least, that’s what they told you when they notified you of your impending position. Your faith was well known in the village, you made the hike to his temple every two days without fail and prayed for hours in his sanctuary as well as volunteered to help clean the entirety of his temple.

His statues had always entranced you and you often wondered if that was what he really looked like. Was he really that tall and broad? Certainly awe inspiring if true. You’d run the soapy cloth along the carvings of his hair and close your eyes, guiltily pretending you were running your fingers through his majestic locks, it was so long, and the artist made it look so wild and untamed, giving his likeness a dangerous edge that made you bite your bottom lip. It would not be an exaggeration to say you were attracted to your god, or rather to the idea of him.

You had never met him or even heard his words as some priests had claimed to have heard. The high priest, the one who informed you of your role in the festivities, had said that your devotion moved the god and he had asked for you; that made you roll your eyes. As if the sun god himself would ask for you. The odd one, no family or friends, let alone a dating history, or anything of the sort that would catch the attention of anyone let alone such a powerful and incredible god. No matter, it would just mean another year without his appearance, though there is the possibility he’s so enraged by your presentation that he decides to burn you like the others.

He was not known for his mercy, after all. His lust for blood was legendary and his rivalry with the god of the forests still affects humanity despite their typically dormant state. Their battles have scored the earth and ruined oceans, much to the god of the sea’s displeasure. The temple texts state that the gods of forest and sun reawaken every century to continue their discourse. Were the previously killed sacrifices burned for his amusement or was he displeased with their appearance? Being burnt from the inside out at the hands of your beloved deity, was that your destined end?

As you contemplated your possible demise, the festival began. For the first three days your job was to stay in the temple. You were to pray all day, bathe in the ceremonial waters, and eat only the fruits provided. Each day the ceremonial drumming, which was performed as the sun began to set and would continue until sunrise, could be heard despite the temples stone walls. Their beat entrancing and familiar. It gave you something to look forward to as you prayed without response.

On the fourth day you weren’t allowed to eat anything, only drink a strangely viscus and milky liquid with no taste that left the core of your being feeling cold. The usual warm bath with citrus scents was replaced with the same cold and thick liquid you were forced to drink. Are they trying to give me a cold before they send me to my death? You thought as you shivered. The older priestesses were made to wash you, they rubbed the fluid into every part of your being. Maybe I’ll freeze before I’m burnt alive.

It was almost like a massage, the way the older women prepared you. The way they rubbed the fluid into the flesh of your breasts made you blush, and the blush only deepened when your sex was given the same amount of attention and pressure. You bit your lip and squeezed your eyes shut. The feeling was a bit unusual. Heat began to swirl in your center, and it helped you fight off the cold for the rest of the bath.

When you were brought out of the bath rolls of white and red silk were draped around your body in odd patterns. The material itself felt wonderful but they tied the red pieces around your arms and neck, while the white silk they used to bind your chest and cover your mound. It was an odd feeling, only being partially dressed and your abdomen being bare made you flush in embarrassment. They tied your hair back in a braid that was as long as your hair would allow, and they twisted the same type of red silk around it. You were not allowed to look at your own appearance and one of the women led you out of the temple without so much as a word.

Once outside you began to shiver again and your bare feet gracing the soft grass only made you feel colder. The breeze made goose flesh begin to rise along your skin and you wrapped your arms around yourself to try and keep warm. Sounds of the villagers enjoying the festival gave you something to focus on. What would you be doing, if you were not here? Enjoying some wine perhaps, dancing around the oversized fire that was lit in your god’s honor? Mmm maybe even enjoying a full plate of roast boar, your stomach grumbled at the thought.

A group of priests, including the high priest, emerged from the temple and began to lead you further to the west of the temple. On that side there was a trail. Most everyone knew of the trail, but it was not to be used by anyone but the blessed. It led up to the highest peak in the valley and at the top stood a temple made specifically to hold the sun god’s presence when he graced the earth.

The high priest ushered you onto the trail and began to walk in front of you, the others following behind. The entire hike up felt very stiff and uncomfortable, it made you more nervous than you already were. The high priest stopped, as did you, right before the doors to the sacred temple. It was much grander, the walls made of marble instead of stone with gold gilded doors and carvings of suns in the luxurious columns. A strong wind practically blew through you, and you wondered if you’d ever feel warm again. A quick glance around at the people meant to guide you made your stomach twist in knots. They all had such grave expressions. You wondered what was next and began to try to convey your question with your eyes but they refused look at you. “Um,” you began. “Excuse-“

A loud shout rang out from the village, the signal to start the drums. Startled, you glanced at the sky and saw that the sun had begun to set. The high priest turned and walked until he was right in front of you. He began to press a large flask of what looked to be the same viscous liquid into your hands while a different priest came behind you and began to tie a red ribbon made of the same silk tightly around your eyes. The cool material caused your heart to beat as hard as the drums. “Drink this once the sun has fully set, there will be more inside, be sure to drink all of it throughout the next few days.”

Your breathing picked up. Someone, you weren’t sure who, began to tie your wrists together in front of you. “Do not attempt to look at him,” the high priest spoke again. “Do not try to touch him, only he can initiate contact. You may roam around the temple but do not leave it.” How did he expect you to roam without being able to see? “We will be back at the end of the festival to collect you, do as we say and as he says and you will survive,” he paused, “probably.”

You nodded nervously; you couldn’t see his face but could feel the sense of dread in the air. “Alright, let us begin.” Someone began to push you forward and you felt your bare feet touch the chilled marble, heard the large doors creak open, and felt the plush of a cushion as they sat you down on the floor. Once their touch left you, the sense of foreboding increased. When you heard the door slam shut you knew you were alone.

You could hear the high priest begin a prayer outside the door, though it was rather muffled, you pressed your fingers against each other, and you tried to calm your nerves by joining in on the prayer. “Allow your warmth to protect and guide me,” you muttered. After a moment’s hesitation you added, “and your cruelty to pass over me.” And altogether you ended the prayer with an ‘amen’ though yours felt a tad more strained.

Through the blindfold you could make out vague shapes thanks to the small amounts of light; but that was all you could see, and once the sun set you would essentially be blind. You stayed seated for a time and fiddled with the flask that you had been given. The wrappings around your wrists weren’t painful or too constricting but they did limit what you could do. How were you supposed to stay like this for four nights and three days? “Where even is the restroom?” You glanced around at the shapes that made up what you could see. “Do gods even use the restroom?”

After a few more minutes of fretting and shaking you decided to stand and try to figure out what was in the room. You placed your arms out in front of you. Your hands may have been bound but you were still able to grab a hold of things. The temperature of the temple was colder than the temperature outside, it was similar to the biting chill of the nights in the cold season. At this point you wondered if you were doomed to die from frostbite. The tips of your fingers scraped against the cold marble of the walls, and you continued to glide your hands along the carvings to guide you through the area. As your vision began to worsen you knew the sun was almost under the mountain.

Your fingers brushed against a metal decoration and you began to explore the piece to the best of your abilities. It felt like a throne, a large one, with a cushion made of the same type of silk that was draped around you. The size of the throne made it feel a bit more like a small loveseat, you couldn’t imagine it being too comfortable with all the surrounding metals. Beside the throne seemed to be a short table with a pitcher atop it. The pitcher was carved, and you could tell it was well crafted by running your fingers along the object. It felt much too light to be filled with anything, much to your chagrin. You had been hoping for a sip of real water.

While there was still a bit of sunlight left you decided to try to explore the center of the room a bit more. You walked cautiously from the throne to the middle of the area and saw a shadow that seemed to be a table or something similar. It was a bit tall to be a table and you placed your hands on it and felt that it was also made of a cold marble. There were no chairs around it and as your fingers brushed along the edges you felt that there were words engraved on it. You wondered if they were gilded with gold like the carvings on the outer columns had been. Slowly, you attempted to read what was engraved around the table. “A sacrifice of flesh and blood,” you muttered. “Well, that would be me.”

“Is that right?”

You flinched. That was not a voice you recognized. It was deep and alluring, with an inflection that sounded almost amused. The man’s voice had come from behind you, where you remembered the throne being. Cautiously, you turned toward where you thought the voice was coming from but immediately had to squeeze your eyes shut. All there was in that direction was a bright light, like the sun itself had come to rest in front of you. Wait, your breath caught in your throat. The sun itself?

“A-Are you perhaps-“

“Yes?”

You felt so hesitant. Your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest, the urge to drop down on your knees and bow was at the forefront of your mind. There was a warmth, an intense but welcome warmth, that began to move toward you. Your eyes were still closed tight; even behind the blindfold his brightness was too much. Like a warm breath it felt like his presence was closer, but you weren’t sure how close. Without much more thought, you gave into your urge and got down to your hands and knees with your head resting atop your extended arms on the floor. Even the floor felt warmer now than it had before his arrival. “My lord!”

“Hm, not quite as interesting as I was expecting.” He sounded so close, almost as if he was directly above you. “But not altogether unpleasant.”

Your skin began to tingle from the contrast in temperature. Hot and cold. Internally, you still felt like you were freezing but externally his presence had warmed everything to such a degree it felt like you might melt. Lightly, it felt like just the tips of his fingers, began to trial down your exposed spine, like he was counting vertebrae. Again, your bottom lip felt the sting of your teeth as your mind reeled at not only meeting but being touched by your god. The same god whose likeness you had thought of in some not so holy ways.

“Is it still too bright?”

“P-Pardon?”

“I understand that my presence tends to be overwhelming for human eyes, shall I dim myself?” He answered his own question, as the harsh biting against your eyelids seemed to lessen and instead of a sun his presence looked more like a group of brightly lit candles. It hurt still, but you were finally able to open your eyes. You wanted to look at him, wanted to take the blindfold off and gaze upon his glory but you kept your head down, afraid of the consequences of doing so. “Thank you for your consideration, my lord.”

“Still so polite,” his dry chuckle was like velvet in your ears. You shivered, but not from fear or temperature; you wanted to hear him speak more. The pleasing thought of having him order you around floated about in your mind. Warm, overly warm, fingers gripped your chin roughly and had you look up at the veiled view of his face. “I like how you’ve thought about me a lot better than the way you’re speaking to me now.”

Your heart hiccupped. Your thoughts of him!? You could feel the color drain from your face. All the unsavory thoughts you had about his image filtered through your mind at once. The few times you had touched yourself had also been to ideas of him. Would he kill you now for your blasphemous behavior? Was he aware of all of them? That rich chuckle continued to fill your ears, much more amused this time, and he turned your head from side to side as if in assessment of a product at the market. “Don’t be so nervous, child. You act like I’m going to burn you alive.”

You were pretty sure he might.

There were no details, but from his outline it seemed like the statue was rather accurate. His hair was long, spiked, and wild like the mane of a lion; his shoulders broad and perfectly set. He barely had a hold on your chin but the bits of his fingers you could feel felt strong, large, and overly warm. The high priest had told you not to look at him but maybe? Just a peek? “Can I remove the-“

“Do you want to go blind?”

“What?”

“Do you think you can stare directly at the sun without repercussions? You’ll go blind if you look at me with your naked eye.”

“Oh,” you pressed your lips together, your cheeks red with embarrassment. “Right, yes, that makes sense.”

“Eager to see your god, are we?”

You wanted to nod but refrained and he let go of your chin. “You haven’t finished the elixir yet.” He said it as a statement of fact and let out a sigh that sounded exasperated. The blood in your veins rushed at a dizzying pace and you felt panic begin to rise in your throat. Had you displeased him? Would he leave because of it? Anything but that.

“I hadn’t realized the time, please forgive-“ Wet warm lips pressed against yours midsentence. It was intense and hot, so very hot. One of his large hands grabbed the back of your head roughly, forcing you to tilt your head back and he tugged on the braid. The surprise made you flinch, and your mouth opened slightly, but it was enough for him. He began to force a liquid into your mouth from his. It was different from the others; it had a sweet taste to it that sat heavy in your center. The warmth of his lips felt like it might burn, but the cool of the liquid soothed it almost immediately. The contrast made you moan, and his tongue began to enter your mouth.

Your eyes squeezed shut and you began to feel turned on as his tongue caressed and pulled at your own. Were you allowed to kiss back? How was this supposed to work? Another noise escaped you as his tongue scraped against the roof of your mouth, slowly and with intent. You squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to calm down. He pulled away slowly, allowing his tongue to linger against yours in the space between you. The sun god chuckled once again, “That face is rather enticing.”

If only you could see what face it was. His touch left you and the warmth of his being began to dissipate. “Resting for so long can be quite boring,” he began, his voice sounded like it was back at the throne. When you opened your eyes you could see the light of his being further back, it seemed as if he was sitting on the golden décor. It almost looked like he was slouched, with one hand against the arm rest and his head on his fist, but that was just your assumption. You had no way of seeing the details of his form. “So, while we wait for the elixir to kick in, entertain me.”

Entertain? How? Should you ask? What if that angered him? He didn’t seem like the patient sort. You heard a sound similar to liquid filling a basin and saw him shift as it looked like he may be drinking. Your heart pounded in your ears in time with the beat of the drums that boom from below. Oh, was that it? At this point in the evening, for the festival, everyone would be dancing. Is that what he wanted? The dance was created for his worship, after all.

You stood on nervous legs, your hands still bound, and listened patiently to the beat. When you felt you had a good enough idea of the rhythm you began the dance. It was fast, continuously moving, with moves similar to dodging attacks in a spar. When the drum paused you twisted your spine and bent backward, almost hitting the sacrificial table behind you, and stretch your arms up behind your head to touch the cool marble. The stretch made you feel exposed. Your neck, abdomen, and legs were on full display. As the pause remained, so did your position. It was difficult, but the dance seemed to warm you up. You felt the flush travel across your body, and you began to feel rather thirsty. You resumed at the same time as the drums.

Everything seemed to disappear as the song continued. Your muscles began to loosen, your tension nonexistent, you completely forgot where you were or why you were even dancing in the first place. It was like you were hypnotized to follow the music. One foot out in front and the other behind, your hands pushed out in front almost like you were begging. Everything felt warm now, your breathing was labored from exertion. Much to your embarrassment, even your core felt a bit sticky. Your hair began to frame your face and you barely registered that the braid had come loose. “Keep dancing,” came his silken command. So, you did.

His approach was harder to feel this time, the difference in temperature not quite as stark, but when his hand caressed the side of your neck you gasped at the excess heat. “I didn’t say you could stop.”

Right, more dancing.

One of his hands remained at your neck, curling around it like a collar and restricting your movements. You couldn’t move away from him without feeling choked. His other hand slid down the length of your swaying curves, from the tops of your covered breasts to the dip of your hips where the white ribbon was tied. The heat was almost sweltering and the ache in your sex began to grow. He tugged and the silk around your waist began to slip away, creating static as it fell from your flesh.

You couldn’t help but stop, your senses now fully focused on your naked lower half. Without the cloth your arousal was even more obvious, its evidence sticking to your thighs. “I don’t like to repeat myself,” he growled so close to your ear. A shiver wracked your form, and you did your best to start moving again, but his hand inching toward your center made you lose your rhythm and your movements became awkward. His hot tongue began to lick a stripe along the red silk wrapped around your collar bone. His warm fingers began to stroke the plush flesh of your mound. A fresh wave of slick began to coat your labia.

“Mm,” you pressed your lips together. You felt like you were on fire. “My lord, please,” you whispered, not entirely sure what you were asking for.

“Tsk, you know my name. Say it.”

He was giving you permission to call him by name? His fingers trailed down and began to stroke the naked flesh of your sex. The amount of wetness made the sounds of his fingers vulgar as he moved them back and forth against the sensitive skin. Your head fell back, and you gasped, his warm fingers immediately zeroing in on your clit. The heat was overwhelming, adding extra stimulation to your already pulsing bud. Your core began to clench, and your hips reflexively bucked toward his hand. “Go on,” he chided. “Say the name of your god, tell him how badly you want him to finger you.”

Your vagina pulsed at the thought. Saying his real name was taboo in the temple, but he was giving you permission. It was impossible to think, his fingers sped up their assault. Only incoherent noises left your throat as your knees began to buckle. How were you this close already? The hand that was around your neck squeezed teasingly, cutting off your air flow temporarily, before moving down to support your lower back as your legs threatened to give out. Instinctively you reached out and tried to use his arm for support before immediately pulling your hands back. They burned, like you had touched a hot stove.

“Do not try to touch him, only he can initiate contact.” The high priest’s words rang out in your mind.

“Weren’t you warned pet?” His head leaned down to your burnt hands, his fingers not ceasing, and he licked along your palms as if to soothe them. The mixture of pain and pleasure only brought you closer to the edge and you began to buck your hips in earnest. Your pleasured noises began to grow into full moans as you approached your peak.

Quickly, without warning, he removed his fingers from your clit and unceremoniously thrust two inside of your entrance. It burned, the heat and the pain of the stretch, but it brought you over the edge anyway. He hadn’t even had to move his fingers and you were already clenching down on them. Tears welled in your eyes behind the blindfold, and you called out, “Ahh, Madara!”

“How cute,” he announced, his voice a note or two deeper, the arm that was supporting you was trembling. “So eager that you came just from having my fingers inside you?”

Madara began to move his fingers, slow and deliberate, making sure to scrape them against your walls and ensuring that pain accompanied the pleasure. He moved his mouth to your neck and tugged at the red ribbon, untying it with his teeth and exposing the rest of your body to his gaze. He began to scissor your entrance and you felt the tightness in your gut return. “Such a naughty human, touching yourself to the thought of your god. Did you think I wasn’t watching? Did you think I wouldn’t know?”

You felt like you were burning, and you heard the juices of your arousal splash against your skin. His thick fingers began to thrust quickly, and he brought his palm up to rub at your sensitive clit. A whine left your throat. He continued his verbal assault. “I watched you each and every time you called out to me with lust. I saw the way your greedy pussy swallowed one, then two, even three of your own fingers. But it was never enough, was it? You needed something else, needed these fingers to fill you.” He added a third finger and you had never felt so full. A cry of his name left your lips again and that rich chuckle of his vibrated through you. “Well how is it? Now that you have the real thing, is it satisfactory? Are you still feeling greedy?”

“It’s good,” you slurred in a drawn-out moan. His fingers began to push at your walls in opposing directions and you thought you might drool. “So so good.”

“Only good? Well, I guess I’ll have to try harder then.”

All three fingers curled at once and began to press on a specific part of your walls. Your breathing stopped, your body convulsed, your toes curled, and your vagina clenched like your life depended on it. His palm pressed hard against your abused bundle of nerves, and you came yet again. But this one was different, more intense, almost painful as it washed over every part of your being. You felt dizzy before you remembered to breathe. His hand kept moving but you were at your wits end. “Too much, ah,” you wanted to grab a hold of his arm but barely registered you would get burned again if you did. Your sex throbbed painfully. “Please lord Madara,” you pleaded. “It’s too much.”

The sun god removed his fingers slowly but made sure to keep supporting you. You watched as the vague light of his being seemed to lick a trail from his own palm down his arm and he moaned deeply as he followed the trail back up to his palm. He moved his hand away from his own mouth and brought his fingers to your lips. “Suck,” he commanded.

Your tongue poked out of your mouth shyly and you wrapped it around the three fingers hesitantly. A grunt left your throat as you tasted yourself on his digits. He shoved the three of them into your mouth, not willing to give you the chance to continue to do as you pleased. Obediently, you sucked. The heat from his fingers almost felt like they would burn your mouth too. Again, you wondered what he looked like in full detail. You gently scraped your teeth against the three digits. “Good pet,” he muttered and pressed the pads of his fingers down on your tongue. “Now, lay down on that table. I’m going to take my sacrifice.”

Madara removed his fingers and let go of you entirely. You stumbled, almost fell to your knees again as your support disappeared. Thanks to the light of his being you were able to see the shadows that made up the cold marble of said sacrificial table. As much as you tried to make your crawl a top it look sexy, you fumbled a few times. It was rather high, making it difficult to crawl onto, but your inability to be graceful didn’t seem to deter him as he was atop you the moment you fully laid down.

The sun god’s scorching lips graced yours once more and this time you tried to meet his tongue stroke for stroke. His impossibly warm palms enveloped your breasts and began to mold them to his liking, almost as if he was trying to change their shape to his hands. For the first time you felt his entire body as it pressed against you. His muscles were firm as they met your squishy flesh and the hardness of his arousal rubbed against your belly in interest. It leaked with precum and the thought of that being your doing gave you butterflies. Slowly he pulled away, he seemed to sit up for a second as you heard the sounds of a glass bottle opening. His own breathing sounded labored, but it paused as he began to gulp down whatever he had opened.

When he was seemingly satisfied, he pressed his lips to yours again, and much like the first kiss, forced the liquid down your throat. Some of it dribbled down the side of your mouth, being too much to swallow all at once, but it didn’t seem to bother him as he continued to aggressively explore your mouth. What surprised you was when he began to pour out the chilled liquid onto your overheated sex. Your back arched, the contrast in temperatures a shock to your system.

He threw the glass bottle away and it broke against the flooring with a loud crash. His thick fingers began to coat themselves in the fluid and started to scoop it into you. You groaned into his mouth. Madara kept pushing it in, forcing it as deep inside of you as his fingers would allow. It felt odd, his hands and your body heat slowly warmed the liquid as he pushed it inside. The god pulled away from the kiss with a loud breath. “No more games,” he announced and pulled his fingers away.

The sound of his slick fingers against his own flesh made you shiver. You wished you could see it, him fisting himself atop you. What a gorgeous sight that would be, it was almost worth the risk of going blind. Almost. He lined himself up with your entrance, one hand holding your tied wrists above your head and the other holding him in place. His tip felt large as it twitched impatiently against your hole. Anticipation made you hold your breath.

“I’m going to ruin you.”

He thrust in and your jaw dropped. Big, he was so big. You felt overstuffed, like there were six of his large fingers shoved inside. Madara pushed forward more, your walls spasming around the intrusion. He was too big; it was too much. You felt like you were going to break, like he’d split you in half. More of his shaft entered you and he groaned, his guiding hand now reaching up to grip your hip and push you further onto him. It felt like he had knocked the wind out of you as the tip of his penis hit your cervix. Surely that was it, he couldn’t go any further. “Pretty little thing, so fucked out already and I’ve barely even started,” he chuckled, his words strained. He brought the hand that was holding your wrists down to wipe your chin of drool that you hadn’t even realized was there. “You’re so wet,” he grunted and pulled his hips back before snapping them forward quickly. You grunted, the drag of his dick the best thing you had ever felt. “Behave and I might just reward you.”

He began to thrust in earnest, the mushroom head hitting against your cervix with each thrust in, like it was trying to bury itself deeper inside of you. Your back bowed and he forced your hips to meet his. You brought your hands up and began to grip at the edge of the marble table. Your white-knuckled grip the only thing keeping you grounded. He brought his unoccupied hand down to your left breast and began to thumb the nipple in time with his thrusts. The shlick shlick shlick sound of each drag against your insides made your toes curl once again. You felt the heavy weight of his balls hit against your perineum and the slick that was pushed out with every thrust leaked down onto the stone beneath.

The sun god was more vocal than you had expected, grunting with effort, and groaning when you clenched particularly hard around him. You licked your lips, your mouth felt dry from hanging open for so long. Your guts began to twist in knots again and you knew you would cum soon. In a rush of bravery, you brought your legs up and attempted to wrap them around his waist. Immediately, your flesh began to burn, and you set them back down. “What did I tell you?” He sounded strained and he moved his second hand to your other hip. “Behave.”

“I can’t-“ you cut yourself off with a moan, his shaft scraping just right against your g-spot and causing your climax to begin again. He hissed and you felt his hair tickle your stomach as he leaned forward and his grip on your hips tightened. You hoped he’d leave bruises.

“Fuck,” he sounded depraved, and you bit your bottom lip hard. His hips continued to push into you. “Your walls are trying so hard to milk me, is that what you want? Hm? You want me to breed you?”

“Uhn,” you couldn’t help but nod vigorously. Your mind so warped with pleasure that you’d do anything he asked. “Oh, Madara,” you groaned and bucked your hips against his grip.

“You want to carry my bastard,” his voice thick with arousal. His large hands pulled you further down on the table and he put both of your legs up around his shoulders. “Everyone will know it’s mine. They’ll all see your rounded belly and know that it’s the seed of their god growing inside of you.”

The new angle was intense, he bore heavily down onto your cervix with every thrust. He pushed your legs forward, putting them up by your shoulders, almost folding you in half, and pushed into your womb. You screamed. It was too much, an intense mix of pain and pleasure that had your nerves confused. “Feel me reach the deepest parts of you,” he grunted. Madara grabbed your tied wrists and brought your hand down to your folded stomach. He made your hands press against your lower belly where you felt the outline of him inside of you. The extra pressure added more feeling and you whined. “I’m going to fill that pretty little womb of yours.”

His thrusts quickened, becoming bruising and focused. You kept your hand where he placed it and felt his bulge as it moved in and out of you. Your head moved back and through your lust filled haze you noticed that the edges of the blindfold had loosened. If you moved a bit more maybe it would come off? Madara moved one of his hands inward and began to stroke at your clit quickly. His pace becoming uneven as his breathing sped up. “You were fucking made for this,” he groaned out. “Made to take me, to be folded in half and fucked stupid.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cried out and moved your head to the side. The silk slipped off of your eyes and you kept them closed as you tried to ignore the need to look at him. He felt so good, so brutal. Your clit throbbed and your core clenched for the fourth time. This was it, the most intense orgasm you’d have possibly ever. You wanted to look at him, to gaze upon his glorious face as you came undone. “Madara, please,” you began, your voice keening at the end. “Look at me.”

You opened your eyes just in time to see him look into yours. He was gorgeous, his dark hair wild and strung about him in a halo of black, his naked flesh flushed pink with exertion, his eyes so dark they looked like they would swallow you whole. His muscles rippled as he fucked you open, the lines under his eyes crinkling as his lips tightened in a smirk. Madara whispered your name and gave one more strong thrust before you squeezed your eyes tight in ecstasy. “Such a bad girl,” he taunted.

This orgasm was unlike any other before, your entire being felt tingly and a different kind of pressure built in your sex. When that pressure released a large burst of clear liquid gushed from you and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. Your legs shook, your walls trembled, and you barely heard Madara’s own grunt of release as he poured his molten semen into your womb. Your everything trembled and you felt like you might melt into the table below you. Your vision went from white to black and you felt your consciousness begin to fade.

“You may rest for now,” his voice sounded so distant in your mind. “We’ll resume shortly.”

When you woke next, you felt so disoriented. Your eyes were open, but everything was hazy, you felt like you were sitting on something hard but comfortable and you lifted your head to try and see where you were. “It took you long enough, pet,” came Madara’s silky voice from behind you. His chest pressed to your back and his arms pressed you further against him. “We still have three more nights of fun to get to.”

A/N: Again, this amazing art contribution was made by the one and only @skydaddy01 please go check them out and send them a huge thank you from me! Madara looks incredible, doesn't he? Uhg I can't stop looking at this art.

Part Two

Hashirama||Tobirama

Season 2

#mortyvongola2 fanfic #mortyvongola2 0 fic #madara uchiha smut #madara smut #naruto series #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #madara x y/n #madara x you #madara uchiha x reader #madara x reader #gods and mortals au #tribute to the gods au #mortyvongola2-0 sacrificed series

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mortyvongola2-0 · 2 years

Text

Quickie

Pairing: Gaara of the Sand x Reader

Genre: Oneshot, Smut

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: afab!reader, dirty talk, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, creampie, panty stealing, quickie in a closet, big boi Gaara, strong language (Gaara gets to curse~ yay~)

A/N: Its about damn time I wrote something for my man. Also have I ever mentioned how much I love @therantingfangirl? Because I do, she even makes time to proofread little pieces like this for me~

Read it on AO3

You squeezed your eyes shut, your mouth falling open and your head falling back. There was a loud thunk as the back of your head met the wall. “Ahh,” you groaned, both pain and pleasure coursing through you.

“Shh,” your lover hushed, a strained smirk on his lips. “You’re going to get us caught.”

“S-sorry.” Your grip on the back of his neck tightened, moving your hips in attempts to take in more of his swollen length. The stretch burned, a lack of preparation causing a majority of your struggle, but it just further spurred you on.

“Fuck.” The gravel of his voice made you shiver. “Too tight,” he grunted, his hands moving to hold your legs further apart while remaining wrapped around his waist. The soft texture of his sand held you against the wall, preventing you from hitting your head again. “Relax.”

Nodding wordlessly, you tried to relax your muscles but the more he sunk into you the more your walls fluttered around him. He felt like the perfect limbo, the familiar stretch and length a pleasure while the rushed entrance was a torture. His breathing hitched as he finally bottomed out, he paused to allow you both a moment to adjust.

It wasn’t like you weren’t wet, you most certainly were. Everything about him turned you on. The seafoam green of his eyes, the bright red of his hair, the commanding mannerisms of a Kazekage, your favorite was that voice. So deep, so rugged, and it only got better with the weight of pleasure on his tongue. You wished he would talk more.

“I thought we were supposed to be quick.” You were panting and once you were readjusted to his large size, you bucked your hips into his. He grunted, nodded his head, and began to move his hips with yours. The more he thrust into you the wetter you became, until you could feel your arousal ease his every move. “Mmm, Gaara.”

“Not so loud,” he repeated, his breathing just as labored. “They’ll be in the next room for the meeting any minute.”

His hand reached down and began searching for your clit, his slippery fingers briefly touched your widened entrance and you gasped. The redhead shivered at the sound, his thrusts beginning to increase in speed. When his fingers found that bundle of nerves his sand moved to cover your mouth to muffle your cries. The tightening in your abdomen told you that you were approaching your peak, but you didn’t want to. You wanted to stay in this broom closet, connected to the one you loved, taking pleasure in each other’s bodies, even if only a little bit longer. You locked your legs around his hips, preventing him from pulling out. An almost inaudible growl rumbled from his throat, his grip became bruising, and his hips smacked into yours with abandon. He squeezed his eyes shut in concentration and you wanted to remove the sand to kiss him, to swallow his delicious grunts and groans.

He paused and you let out a whine, but you couldn’t help but freeze when you heard the doorknob begin to turn. You looked at him with wide eyes, his sand quickly shuffling over to lock the door and push against it incase the person had a key. As you impatiently waited for the person to leave, his fingers began to circle your clit once again. Another muffled moan tore through you.

The Kazekage was no longer looking at you, he continued to watch the doorknob jiggle as he played with your throbbing bud. It was an intense feeling; the mixture of anxiety from possibly being caught, his deft fingers changing direction, his cock throbbing as it waited impatiently inside you. Your fingernails dug into his clothed shoulders and your body trembled as you came, quiet whines leaving you. His eyes squeezed shut, your spasming walls causing him to lose concentration and let out a shaky breath.

“Guess I’ll need to get the keys,” came the muffled voice of the disgruntled janitor. Your heart was thrumming too loudly in your ears for you to hear his footsteps as he left, but as soon as the Kazekage was sure he was gone he moved his molten orbs back to you.

“You’re so filthy,” he grunted, his hips resuming their brutal pace. You were oversensitive and the resumed friction made your toes curl. “Cumming with someone else in earshot.”

His thrusts were beginning to lose rhythm, his sack smacked against your ass loudly. His fingers hadn’t stopped moving. His sand left your mouth and you leaned forward almost immediately. You buried your head in his neck and began mouthing at the covered skin, wishing you could tear through it and leave your marks on his pale skin. “Are you going to cum again?”

You nodded as well as you could. The redhead’s lips began to pepper your exposed neck with sloppy kisses of his own. You were so close, for the second time. To further chase that high, you began to grind against him messily. The changing angles made him scrape against that spongy part inside of you with every drag out. “G-Gaara,” you warned.

“Me to-oo,” he stuttered, his hips almost erratic. The sand at your back began to shift, trembling with the one who commanded it. The grip he had on your hips became painful and his teeth dug into your skin, marking you in the way you wanted to mark him. His arms shook as he moved to whisper in your ear. “Cum.”

How could you disobey a command like that?

Your eyes rolled back; his tip pressed against your cervix like it belonged there. A loud mewl began to leave your lips and he quickly covered them with his own. His hips stuttered and you felt the telltale warmth of his spend as your walls massaged it out of him. You licked his lips, desperately seeking his tongue to try and ground yourself. He continued to twitch inside of you, spurt after spurt making you feel full, and he groaned into your mouth as your tongues met.

He removed his fingers from your sex and brought that same shaky hand up to cup your cheek. Your head tilted and you licked the roof of his mouth. After a few more seconds, he began to soften and pulled out of you slowly. A shiver ran through you at the feeling of his semen leaking out and onto your thighs. The Kazakage lowered you to the ground gently, his breathing still rapid. You clutched his shoulders, your legs not quite ready to stand.

“Sorry,” he began, adjusting his clothes and putting himself away. A shame, you thought. Gaara placed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Are you alright?”

“I’m more than alright.” You smirked. He smiled. His gentle hands began to help you fix your clothing, his sperm drying against your thighs. He gave you a hesitant look as he placed your panties in his robes, you snickered.

Once you were able to walk again the two of you went to the door. Gaara leaned down and placed a loving kiss against your swollen lips. “I may be a bit late today.”

“And I’ll be waiting,” you teased.

He opened the door, and you poked your head out, looking to the right before looking to the left. You didn’t see anyone, so you both began to step out of the closet before you heard someone clear their throat. You flushed in embarrassment while Gaara sighed, his older brother was leaning against the wall hidden by the door. “Did you guys have a good time?”

tagged list: @therantingfangirl @justmyownreality @mal-the-konohoe

#naruto series #gaara of the desert #gaara smut #gaara of the sand #gaara x reader #gaara x you #gaara x y/n #fanfic #fanfiction #mortyvongola2 0 fic #sabaku no gaara #kazekage gaara #naruto gaara #kankuro #mortyvongola2 fanfic

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mortyvongola2-0 · 1 year

Text

Day 3: Touchless Orgasm

Can't Help it

Pairing: Kakashi Hatake x Reader

Genre: Oneshot, smut, kinktober prompt

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: afab!reader, touchless orgasm, a lot of dirty talk, like a lot a lot of it, semipublic, oral sex (male receiving), dom Kakashi, very dom Kakashi I can't emphasize this enough, use of the word 'slut' but you know in the fun way, throat abuse, possessive behavior, dominance/submission, face fucking, voice kink, office blowjobs

A/N: Kinktober is a year round event right? Not just one month out of the year, right? Also, lemme know if you want to be apart of tagged list.

Read it on AO3

It was unfair, really. He knew what he did to you, how his voice could affect you. How he could get you to do almost anything with the promise of him. You whined, your thighs pressed together to try and get some friction against your weeping sex.

So unfair.

His chuckle, low and heavy with pleasure, made you whine around his cock again. Your jaw was stretched wide, drool escaped from the corners of your lips as you continued to take him as far into your mouth as your body allowed. Just having him in your mouth alone was enough to make you wet enough to soak through your clothes.

“Mm, you look so pretty like this,” his voice was breathy but firm, husky but more addictive to you than any drug or cigarette could be. “Slobbering all over my cock, under my desk, whining like you’re on edge from this alone.”

You closed your eyes, you would have shaken your head if you could have, but instead you swallowed more of him. The fat head hit the back of your throat and you fought against the gag that threatened to overtake you. You could feel your clit throb.

“Do you want to touch yourself?”

Gods, yes.

“To cum with my cock in your throat?” His hips thrust forward for emphasis, and you felt saliva slide further down your chin. You pulled back, taking him out of your throat before pushing him back in, trying to take him in even further. “What a cute little cock slut you are.”

His hands tugged at your hair, the minute amount of pain turning into a pleasant buzz in your pleasure-addled brain. You moaned against him, your hips moving on instinct. Your sex clenched around nothing. The delicious chuckle that left him was cut off by a sharp gasp as you attempted to swallow around him. You opened your eyes again, even as you felt them begin to tear up, to try to take in the sight of him with his head tossed back. Your hand began to reach down to slip beneath the waistband of your pants.

“Don’t,” he panted.

You blinked at him in confusion, vision blurred with unshed tears. He groaned, the hand that was in your hair tugged harder, forcing you to take him in up to the root, your nose pressed firmly against the silver locks at his base. You sputtered, the tears finally falling.

“Fuck,” he groaned again, hips moving minimally. “Don’t touch yourself,” he commanded.

A keen left your throat and vibrated around his shaft. You wanted to ask why, to demand he allow you that small relief, but instead you dragged your teeth against him as he pulled out until only the leaking tip remained on the back of your tongue.

“I know you don’t need it to cum.”

He began to thrust eagerly, fucking your face with abandon. “All you need is this,” both of his hands came down to hold your cheeks and caress your jaw. The noises that left your throat were lewd and wet, you could feel your pussy throb with desperation, and you spread your bent legs. “My cock, my- ah,” you closed your eyes again so you could focus on the sounds. His sounds. “My voice. You’re so easy, so depraved.”

His thumbs rubbed against the stretched corners of your lips. “I don’t even have to see your pretty little hole to know that it’s drooling more than your mouth. Hn,” his grip tightened on your face, and you humped the floor, feeling no relief from the increasing ache. “I’ll cum down your throat and tell you to cum and you will, because its my voice telling you to. Because you can’t resist me.”

You could feel your slick as it leaked against your thighs, could feel yourself suck him harder as your need grew. If only he was inside of you, ruining your insides like he was your throat. You needed Kakashi to pull you out from under his desk and bend you over and take you so thoroughly you wouldn’t be able to walk straight. The throbbing in your core grew as his groans increased and the abuse on your throat worsened. You were so turned on, it felt like you were being edged.

“You’ll swallow it all, every last drop, and leave my office with drool down your chin, your slick down your legs, and a belly full of my cum.”

A shiver crawled up your spine and your grip on his pant legs turned white knuckled. You felt close but torturously so. He was right, you were depraved. Your clit begged for any kind of stimulation, a single touch and you were sure you’d be gone. “Fuck, you like that, don’t you? You’re close, aren’t you?” You whined and he let out a humorless laugh. “Mmm, look at your hips moving on their own. So naughty, getting so worked up over having a cock in your mouth that you’re about to cum.”

A desperate whine left your throat.

“Go on,” he grunted, his own hips stuttering. “Cum, cum while I paint your throat.”

Kakashi let out a stuttering gasp and you felt the tension in your core release at the same instance his seed shot down your esophagus. It was hot and thick, some of it leaking out onto your tongue as you struggled to swallow while still cumming yourself. Your walls clenched around nothing, your clit ached with over sensitivity, and you could feel your fluids slide further down your skin and soak your clothes completely. It was an unsatisfactory orgasm that had left you twitching and achingly overstimulated.

“Mm, good girl.”

His fingers rubbed your stiff jaw gently as he pulled out, it made an ungodly wet schlop as he left your throat before leaving a wet trail against your lips. You closed your mouth when he was out, the tang of spend along your tongue as you struggled to get it all down. He’d cum so much.

“That’s it,” he muttered and rubbed his thumbs over your lips. “Swallow your reward.”

“P-please,” your voice was hoarse, tongue heavy, and throat thick with him. You needed him then more than ever before. “Kashi, please, fuck me.” “Hm, how can I deny a request like that from such pretty swollen lips?”

tagged list: @therantingfangirl @justmyownreality @hashira-mal

Previous Day || Next Day

|| Kinktober 2022 Masterlist ||

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mortyvongola2-0 · 2 years

Text

Sacrificed

Pairing: God!Hasirama Senju x Reader

Genre: Oneshot, dirty smut

Word Count: 7.8k

Warnings: afab!reader, rough sex, vaginal sex, dirty talk, oral sex female receiving, creampie, unprotected sex, aphrodisiacs, praise kink, hung Hashirama, overstimulation, cum marking, kind of tentacles, no refractory period, Yandere Hashirama, strong language

A/N: This one took a bit longer than intended, for multiple reasons but I'm glad to finally have it out. I definitely wasn't expecting it to be this much longer than Madara's version but this did have a bit more plot going for it. Not that the plot is really all that important. As far as their personalities go I feel like god Madara would fuck anyone who moves and Hashirama would be too nice to be that way so there had to be a bit more build up.

Another HUGE thank you to the incredible, wonderful, amazing, genius @therantingfangirl for helping me edit and refine this one and for being the bestest of best friends. I really love her, she's an incredible writer, and if you guys liked my Madara Sacrificed then you should check out her Madara mirror fic. Its awesome.

And a huge thank you to all of you for showing Sacrificed so much love! I only hope this one pleases you all just as much!

Without further ado, please enjoy Sacrificed (Forest)

Read it on AO3

It was hot that day, the sun boiling and bearing down on you like it intended to kill you. Heh, maybe the sun god is mad at me, you thought, a snicker leaving you at the thought. You didn’t believe in the gods, didn’t need to. And why would you? They hadn’t done anything worth believing in, after all. Your village in particular had an obsession with the god of the forests. He had one large statue in the village center, and another two that guard the entrance to the forest surrounding the village; most people placed their offerings before those specific statues.

You wondered why; it wasn’t like there were any fantastical stories about him that you had heard. As far as you were aware he hadn’t done anything to merit such reverence, though there was the legend of his rivalry with the god of sun, but you didn’t find that particularly interesting either. What did interest you was science, medicine, those sorts of things. The villagers often called you a quack, but they did it endearingly. Afterall, without you, there would be no one to tend to the wounded. The original clinician had retired as soon as he thought you were good enough to take over. And you were damn good.

Be it morning or night, you catered to anyone in need, only closing the clinic two days a week but still making exceptions for emergencies. On days where you closed the clinic you went into the forest and nearby mountain to gather herbs for medicine. You loved the forest and all it had to offer. If you could spend all of your time there, you would. You took a deep, relaxing breath in and released it with ease.

“Woah!” You fell, your hands and knees hitting the ground first. There was a mild sting, and you clicked your tongue in annoyance. After standing and brushing the dirt off, you turned to see what your foot had gotten caught on. It looked to be a root, a long one that came from the direction you knew to be a small lake. “The end of a root,” you muttered to yourself. It looked unique and thin, odd for the flora you knew to grow here. “Hmm,” you scratched at the side of your head as you contemplated what to do. “Well, no harm in checking, right? Maybe its something I can use.”

Following the roots trail, you noticed more roots, almost identical in size and color. They all seemed to be from the same plant. “This has got to be one big tree,” you muttered. You picked up your pace, running in your eagerness to sate your curiosity. “How have I not seen it before?”

The sound of the lake reached your ears and when you finally saw the clear waters you paused to catch your breath. As you attempted to refill your lungs, you glanced around for any odd-looking plants, big ones, but the only unusual thing you saw was a large bundle of those roots. Carefully, still a bit out of breath, you made your way over to said roots. “How does this happen?” You crouched down to try and get a look at it from all angles. It looked almost like a cocoon. Puzzled, you stood back up and placed your hands on your hips. “Should I cut some of it?”

You reached into your satchel and pulled out the hunting knife you had for cutting tough plants and in the rare instance of wild animal attacks. “Sorry, I’ll only cut a little,” you apologized to the plant as you knelt and began to cut out a small section of the roots. They were tough, taking quite a bit of effort to saw through, but you were finally able to break off a length that was satisfactory. It oozed a golden sap, almost the same consistency as blood. It was a bit off putting. You glanced back at the hole you had created only to be completely taken aback. “Is that a hand,” you exclaimed. You reached in and touched the tan hand; it was large and dwarfed yours, but it was cold. You gasped, “A dead body?”

Thankfully you were able to manipulate the hand enough to reach the wrist and feel for a pulse. Your heart pounded in your chest. Please be a pulse, please be a pulse, please, please, plea- there it was. A weak but still there thud against your fingers. “I’m going to get you out of there, just hold on.”

Letting go of the hand, you began to hack away at the roots, adrenaline fueling you. You were going to save them, you had to. Your role as a caregiver wouldn’t let you abandon this task. It took a lot out of you, and you were covered in the strange golden sap by the time you were done, but you had made a hole large enough to drag the man out. He was also covered in the golden sap, and it almost looked like it was leaking from the wounds he was covered in. His long black hair was matted and caked, his masculine face bruised, and his jaw misaligned. As you struggled to drag him out of the roots more and more injuries began to show themselves. “Shit,” you grunted with effort. You usually weren’t one to curse. “Shit, shit, shit!”

You felt a bit overwhelmed, definitely under prepared. You had some of herbs that you had collected earlier, your eyes looked back and forth for a vessel to use to mix the medicine and make a paste. “I’m sorry sir, I’m going to have to undress you. I hope you understand,” you told him. You began with his armor; it was unlike any armor you’d seen before. A warrior maybe? It was strong and well made. Great, some rich guy. After his armor was removed, albeit not intact, you looked around to try and get a better idea of his wounds, however that golden sap wasn’t giving you a clear idea.

Picking the knife back up you began to tear through his black shirt. His chest was in as bad shape as his face, but that golden sap had soaked through to his skin. You tore the left sleeve off your shirt and made sure he was in a comfortable position before quickly walking up to the lake and soaking the impromptu cloth. “I will save you,” you promised, more to yourself than anyone else.

As the sun began to set you were finally finished with his first aide treatment. You sat with your back leaned against a tree trunk and his head resting in your lap as the adrenaline finally wore off. With your eyes closed you sighed and carded your fingers through his hair, attempting to untangle the matts and twigs in it. “I’m sorry if this is a bit too intimate for you,” you whispered to the unconscious man. “But I have nothing better to do while we wait for the village’s watchmen to come and find us.”

His black tresses gave way to your fingers easily, and the action reminded you of how your mother used to comb her fingers through your own hair. You smiled softly and began to sing the same tune that she had taught you. The birds chirped and everything was peaceful for a moment, but as the sun went down the horizon you grew concerned about the dangers the forest had to offer at night. “You have such a lovely voice.”

You jolted in surprise and looked down at the man you’d just spent hours bringing from the brink of death. He shouldn’t be conscious yet, let alone smiling up at you so carefree. “You,” you began, hesitant. “How are you-“

“I’m a fast healer,” he cut you off, and even began to sit up. You panicked.

“No! Don’t sit up!”

“Why? I’m fine,” he said easily. He pulled off some of the bandages you had placed on his chest, the bandages were made from torn pieces of your dress. The man glanced down curiously at the goo that coated the cloth and brought it to his nose. “Mm, echinacea, excellent idea.”

You were completely dumbfounded. The cuts along his chest now just mere bruises and closed scars. “How is that possible?” He let out a laugh, lighthearted. He turned back to face you, his dark eyes full of life and mirth. Heat began to creep up from your neck to your ears. He was so handsome, even covered in dirt, golden sap, and half-assed bandages. His smile was arm and one of his big hands reached out and caressed your cheek gently. “What are you?”

“I’m Hashirama,” he responded softly. “And you?”

Before you could tell him your name, it was shouted. You turned to look in the direction of the voices, Hashirama’s hand still connected with your cheek. The watchmen, you thought. As you opened your mouth to respond to your fellow villagers, that warm hand moved to cover your mouth; you looked back at him, fright contorting your face. Using his other hand he placed a single finger to his lips, signaling for you to remain silent. “Wait until I leave, then you may go.”

Was he a rogue of some sort? You nodded your head; his smile was a bit more strained. “Don’t tell them you saw me.”

He removed his palm from your lips and stood to his full height, he offered a hand to help you up as well. Hashirama was tall and broad, much larger than you. As you stood you watched him warily and he gave a small wave. “Goodbye for now,” he said before jumping up, high up, and away. You were left stunned and confused.

A few weeks later found you back in the forest, humming along as you collected your weekly supply of herbs. Since that incident, you hadn’t seen hide nor tail of Hashirama. It was a shame really, despite his oddities and unexplained origins you found yourself rather attracted to his toned muscles and bright smile. Unconsciously, you smiled just thinking about him.

You had kept some of the cut ruts and golden sap for analyses but hadn’t found anything that would explain what you saw. The only thing you had discovered was that the golden sap had reactions that were identical to blood. It congealed over time but stayed liquid with the assistance of specific herbs. The similarities in consistency had been one of the first things you noticed. It both scared and intrigued you. You wondered what type of plants bled? Were there other trees that had the same golden sap? Maybe I should go back and- “Oh! It’s you again!”

“Ah!” You jumped, Hashirama’s deep voice startling you. He was squatting down in front of you, blinking at your startled face like he wasn’t the reason for it. “Hashirama,” you started softly. Had you been so focused on your thoughts that you hadn’t noticed him?

“You remembered my name,” he said excitedly.

“Of course I did. How many strange men do you think I meet in the woods?”

He placed a hand to his chin and acted like he was giving it some thought. “Maybe two?”

“No, only you,” you responded dryly.

“Ah,” he responded, a sultry smirk molding his full lips. His voice seemed a touch deeper as he said, “I’m honored.”

Your face felt hot, and you looked away from him and back to the plants in front of you. His looks are dangerous, you thought. “Who are you, really?”

“I told you, I’m Hashirama.”

“You’re not going to tell me anymore, are you?” You paused, giving him time to respond. When he didn’t you sighed and looked back at him warily. “Will you at least tell me if you’re some kind of criminal?”

“And if I am? Will you turn me in?” A tease.

“Yes,” you said back with a huff. “I could use the money.”

“Oh,” he muttered, his entire continence crumbling. His head was down between his knees, which had been brought up to his chest, even the air around him seemed to exude sadness. You stared at him for a few seconds before laughter began to bubble through you. He looks like a pouting kid! He sniffled and sunk further into his depressed position. “And now you’re laughing at me.”

“Sorry, sorry!” You giggled uncontrollably, one of your hands at your mouth while the other you placed on his tanned hand. “I won’t turn you in, don’t worry.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.” With that he sprung back up, bright smile back; that only made you laugh harder.

Every week after that you’d continue your trips to the forest, and every time he’d find you. It became a routine, your time with him full of laughter and learning. Hashirama knew so much about plants and medicine, he told you things that you had never heard of, let alone thought to try. He told you what worked best for illness, what worked best for injury, herbs to strengthen constitution, and so much more. He was an untapped wealth of knowledge and you hung on his every word.

He seemed just as excited to see you as you did him every time the two of you met. He’d ask you mundane questions, like how you grew up and the things you liked. Hashirama seemed rather impressed when you told him about your position as the village clinician. He understood the weight your position as a woman carried, and it was almost inevitable that you’d develop feelings for him. And the more time you spent with him the deeper your feelings went.

You had invited Hashirama to stay in the village with you, many times, but he refused. It hurt a bit, though your head knew the difference your heart treated it like he was rejecting you. You had no idea how he felt about you, other than he liked to talk with you. He never gave any inclination about reciprocating your feelings and the longer you spent with him the more that stung. Should I give up? You thought. He’s just some wanted criminal anyway, right? I should just move on and marry someone from the village. But then you’d see him, his large smile causing crinkles under his eyes, his warm hands squeezing yours tightly as he led you excitedly to some new tree, and all your resolve to forget about him would crumble.

“Is something wrong?”

“No,” you responded, not quite meeting his dark eyes. He was swimming in the lake. The man was trying to kill you, you were sure. His torso bare, the water making his momohiki cling to his lower body, his dark hair stuck to his face, neck, and back. Definitely trying to kill me. You gulped and began to look at some of the lake’s smooth stones. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Hm,” he tilted his head to the side, leaning on a rock close to the edge of the water. “If you’re willing to talk, I’ll listen.”

If only I could. Another sigh escaped you before you formed an idea. Maybe? “Well, lately I’ve had a few men try to court me.”

“Oh?”

“They’re not ideal, but I am passed marriageable age. I’m wondering if I should accept them or not.” Your heart pounded in your chest. Would he take the bait? You chanced a glance in his direction, but he was still smiling, it looked a bit smaller, a bit tighter, but other than that there was no difference. Your heart sunk. Right, you thought. How could I be so stupid.

Four weeks after that meeting, and things had begun to change in the village. There was a large increase in sick villagers visiting your clinic. You were so busy you hadn’t had the chance to see Hashirama since then. Many were beginning to show signs of malnutrition, especially the children. “Wasn’t our harvest good? What’s changed?”

“We haven’t been able to hunt in weeks, and our crops have all but died,” the village leader responded. You looked at him, puzzled.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s the god of the forests,” another elder suggested. “He’s angry with us, we must placate him immediately.”

“Shall we give him more offerings?” Another asked.

You clenched your fists. “Enough with the gods, we need to do something about this quickly.”

“We will give our food reserves to the children first,” the leader decided. “And if this continues the women will come next. If we continue to lack in supplies, I will contact other villages for help.”

But the food shortage continued, and you hardly had enough supplies to feed yourself, let alone your patients. You began to chew on appetite suppressing plants to push past the hunger. “Make way! We have wounded!”

You ran out of your clinic, toward the commotion. Four of the village’s best hunters lay incapacitated, carried toward you by their injured companions. “What happened?”

“It’s the forest,” one called, a look of terror on his face. “It attacked us as we tried to get in!”

The other villagers began to whisper, “If we can’t hunt then we’re doomed!”, “What have we done to offend the gods so?”, “What do we do now?”.

Shit, you thought, leaf hanging from your lips. What can we do?

Everything was starting to fall apart. You had gone to the forest entrance to see what the hunters were talking about, and just like they said the trees pushed their branches together to force you from getting in. You tried another not so public entrance and met the same resistance. One of the trees had even cut your shoulder. “Shit,” you muttered under your breath. You were low on supplies, low on food, and Hashirama was still in the forest as far as you knew. You couldn’t imagine he’d be better off. “Hashirama,” you called out into the trees. “Please be okay.”

When the situation seemed dire, the village leader ordered a meeting. With all in attendance, he claimed to have a solution to all the suffering. “We will offer our gracious deity a sacrifice,” he announced. “A sacrifice of flesh and blood. One of our own.”

Outrage began to spill from the villagers’ lips. How can we stoop so low? “Silence,” called an elder. “At dusk we will give our offering. This will bring everything back to how it should be.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Please don’t choose my daughter, please not my daughter!”

“Can’t we just leave for another village?”

“You’re asking for too much!”

But the ones in charge weren’t listening to any of the back talk. The village leader’s eyes met yours, and a chill went down your spine. His gaze lingered a bit too long for your liking before he looked away. “Everyone go home and stay there, we will get the sacrifice when its time. While you wait, pray. That is all that can be done now.”

As soon as you got back to your home you began to pace. You had a sinking feeling that you were the one that was about to be sacrificed. But that would be ridiculous, you were the village’s only healer. Getting rid of you would bring far more harm than good. But your mind kept going back to that stare, to the way the village leader’s eyes held yours is if he was sorry, like you were some creature to be pitied. A swift knock at your door all but confirmed your suspicions, and when you opened the door, you felt like throwing up.

“We’re sorry dear,” said the leader’s wife. The two women beside her kept their heads down as if ashamed. “But we’ve come to prepare you for the sacrifice.”

“Shit,” came your breathless reply.

All three were the wives of the heads of the village, all three kind souls who had wanted nothing but the best for you growing up. Your heart pounded as they took their time in grooming you. They bathed you in warmed water, poured expensive oils onto your skin, combed your hair, and decorated it with gold decorations made to look like flowers, and painted your lips with red dyes. The clothing they dressed you in could hardly be called clothing. The material was expensive and white, but sheer. The top stopped just below your breasts and the bottoms were a skirt that showed much more than it covered. “No wrappings?” You asked, hoping against hope for some coverage. They shook their heads.

“Before we go dear, please, eat this.”

“But this is-“ Ginseng, and in this context it was hard not remember its aphrodisiacal qualities. The eldest woman just placed her hand on your shoulder, her face only displayed pity. You ate the ginseng without another word. It tasted different from normal ginseng, it could’ve been your hunger talking, but it tasted much, much, sweeter; like the sweetness would melt you from the inside. A band of gold was placed around your waist and sandals of a similar color were placed on your feet with care.

“Alright,” the eldest said, a dour look on her face. “That’s everything,” she paused and pressed her lips together. She approached you, leaned on her tip toes, and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. You felt like you wanted to cry. “Please, come back safely.”

The bitterness of betrayal settled on your tongue. Come back? You thought, the idea of it giving you mixed feelings. After being abandoned like this would I even want to come back?

Like a funeral procession, the village leader’s and their wives, were all silent with grave faces as they lead you to the main entrance to the forest. You looked up at the two statues, their faces eroded by time, and suddenly they felt a lot more foreboding. You didn’t believe in the gods, but you do know that something strange was going on in those woods. Would it even let you in this time?

As the trees seemed to part their branches to allow your entry, you began to form a plan. I’ll find Hashirama and we’ll run away, you nodded to yourself. Find Hashirama, run away, easy as that. It’ll be fine. You took a sharp breath in as you saw the state of the woods. It had been once been so bright, with animals and insects making constant noise, but at that moment all you heard was the wind rustling leaves. The flora looked so wilted, like they were on the brink of death. “Please, accept our humble offering,” the leader said. They all bowed, and you felt like you were on a precipice.

No matter what you did, your next step would change everything. If you ran back into the village, even if the villagers didn’t become upset with you, they were still doomed without food and medicine; if you stepped into the forest that you used to make you feel at ease, there was no telling what would happen. You squeezed your eyes shut; your heart felt like it was being split in two. The best choice is probably to just run away. But there he was again, his overly cheerful smile flashing through your mind, and a sigh left your lips as you made up your mind. “Always coming to your rescue,” you muttered, beginning to walk forward.

The path was different, the sky was dark, the trees had blocked the entrance behind you. Everything about this made your skin crawl. You had no idea what part of the forest you had been led to, but you could see the shadow of a manmade structure. As you approached, rain began to fall. It drizzled at first, gave you a minute to look at the odd building before you had to run inside due to a downpour.

It looked to be a forgotten temple of sorts. A large building covered in vines and weeds that were decaying with the rest of the woods. The walls and columns which you believed to once be pristine and white were dyed yellow with wear and hunks of stone missing. The inside was largely the same, though there were two large skylights which you were sure were beautiful with moonlight, but they also allowed the downpour to follow you inside. Between the two skylights in the center of the room was a raised table, a large decorative throne a ways behind it and against the backwall. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you walked toward the throne what little clothing you were wearing was soaked through and clung to your skin, it embarrassed you how visible your breasts were.

“Well, this is just great,” you grumbled, pulling the golden decorations from your wet hair. You placed them on a raised table at the rooms center. The rain continued to pour, and you stared down at puddles on the floor you’d have to walk through. “Whoever designed this place really wasn’t thinking.”

There were no visible decorations, only visible distress. How long has this been here? You wondered if it was as old as the village itself. The water had ruined the lovely sandals you wore so you took them off and placed them beside the throne, your bare feet made audible smacks as they walked through the water. After brushing off some dust and vines, not very well, you sat on the throne.

“You’re here!”

You perked up at that voice, its’ baritone echoing even over the sounds of the downpour. “Hashirama,” you called back and stood. “Thank the gods you’re alive.”

“Of course I am,” he responded as he made his approach. The man looked the same as he always did, which was both relieving and distressing. It had been over a month of starvation, illness, and injury for your village, and yet he didn’t show any visible signs of suffering the same ailments. “I am suffering though.”

“Really?” You met him halfway and placed your hands on his face, clinician mindset taking over. His smile softened as he closed his eyes and nodded. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you,” his tone was teasing. “How could I not suffer?”

“Don’t joke around like that.”

“But I’m serious.” Hashirama wrapped his warm hands around your still wet forearms. You tilted your head to the side. How had you not noticed he was dry? “Not being able to see you was upsetting.”

You had forgotten your state of dress until you watched his eyes look you up and down, his pupils dilated in obvious arousal, and you had to look away. In attempts to cover yourself, you tried to pull your hands away from his face but his grip on your arms was too strong. “Please,” you pleaded, keeping your gaze at his chest to avoid watching those dark eyes devour you. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Why?” Hashirama pulled you closer, he brought your left wrist up to his lips and began to kiss a slow trail down your arm. “You look mouthwatering.”

Weakly you tried to pull away, but it was more of an instinct than anything. His attentions were what you had craved for almost as long as you knew him. Your breath hiccupped as he nibbled at your pulse, his other arm reached behind you to circle the gold band on your waist. “How could I resist such a beautiful offering?”

“Offering?” Your eyelashes fluttered, partially distracted by the tan hand that had began to creep toward your rear. “What do you mean?”

He pressed you further to him, his body almost flush against yours. Your torso was leaned back, reluctant to let your sensitive breasts rub against his armored chest. “Your village offered you to me in order to regain access to the forest.”

You furrowed your brow. “They said that I was a sacrifice for their imaginary forest god.”

Hashirama lifted his lips from your skin to look back at you with a pout. “I’m not imaginary.”

A beat, then two, then three, before your brain finally began working again. Your voice was hesitant, a bit strained as you asked, “What?”

He blinked at you a few times before his eyes widened in surprise, “You didn’t know? But I told you when we first met.”

“No, you didn’t,” you retorted, your nerves building, not quite sure how to handle the new information.

“I told you my name.”

“Yeah, but that was it. You said Hashirama, not Hashirama god of the forests!”

“The village you come from has been loyal to me for centuries.” The black-haired man seemed to refocus on your body, he placed the arm he had been showing affection on over his shoulders and moved both hands to grab your ass. You yelped and wrapped your legs around his hips, he held you up with ease. “A god’s name is an invaluable part of the teachings. I am the only one allowed to be called Hashirama.”

Closing your eyes, you thought back to when you were younger and tried to remember ever hearing that name, but your mind quickly went blank as he leaned his head forward and began to place sloppy kisses against your neck. The movement caused your skirt to raise up, bearing your sex against his clothed erection. A gasp tore through you. “Ah, you’re driving me mad.”

Your brain tried to rationalize it, alright even if he has the title it doesn’t mean he’s actually a god. Hashirama licked a stripe along the column of your neck, and you shivered, your hands gripped at his shoulders before moving to wrap around his neck and comb through his hair. “I still don’t believe in the gods,” you muttered breathlessly, his hands tightened their grip on the flesh of your ass.

He straightened his neck and smirked at you. His dark eyes filled with lust and confidence. A strange texture brushed against your legs before gripping your ankles with immense strength. You clung to Hashirama’s neck like your life depended on it, “W-What is that?”

“Relax,” he shushed you. The things began to pull your legs apart, removing them from his hips. Similar things wrapped around your wrists, but these you could see. They looked almost like vines, but with a more wooden texture, like the roots that he had been wrapped in the day you met. As the roots began to remove your arms from his neck you looked at him in a panic, he shushed you gently. The roots at your ankles rose you as the ones on your wrists suspended you, your arms above your head. He took your chin in his hand gently and whispered, “They’re apart of me, there’s no need to worry.”

His plush lips pressed against yours and you groaned. His tongue immediately sought entrance and you obliged. You moaned as he slid it against yours, he allowed you to take the lead after that. With ease he allowed your tongue to explore his mouth, he tasted like herbs, fresh and crisp with a hint of bitterness. Hashirama’s hands moved along your body, ghost like touches all along your frame. The tips of his index fingers pressed against your clothed nipples before he rubbed them in circular motions.

A grunt left your mouth and he swallowed it. Your nipples pebbled under his touch, and he began to palm at the full weight of your breasts as he pulled away. “Your breasts are so perfect,” he groaned. The roots on your ankles began to spread your legs further apart and he brought his thigh up to place against your heated core. “So pretty, spread and at my mercy. I’ve wanted to have you like this since I first laid eyes on you.”

The roots around your raised wrists pushed you down and onto his thick thigh. You ground down on it unconsciously, the promise of stimulation too great to resist. “Are you getting impatient, dear? Sorry, I’ll take better care of you.”

Hashirama ripped the wet cloth from your breasts, the fabric tattered as it fell open and hung by its sleeves. That had startled you. He began sucking and licking at your neck again, making sure to nibble at the places that made your breath hitch. His right hand continued to tease your breast. That left hand, though, began to trail downward. It fiddled with the golden band, “I like it, like a handle,” he muttered against your skin. Handle?! His left hand finally reached your thigh and began to creep inward toward your wet sex. The body heat from his hand brought anticipation with it. He gently touched your outer labia, his thigh moving away for a moment, you let out a soft moan.

His deft fingers began to spread one side of your outer lips and then the roots pulled you back down to his thigh. You squeaked. The friction was more intense, the cloth rubbing against your clit almost painfully. “Ha-Hashirama,” you panted. The dark-haired man kissed his way to your neglected breast and flicked the hardened nipple with his tongue. Another flick, again, only after you whined did he wrap his lips around the abused fresh and you almost sighed in relief.

Another root seemed to make its way up your leg and slipped between your slick folds and the forest god’s thigh. “Ah! Too much,” you cried, the feeling of the root alien to you. It was very textured, groves and abnormal lumps, a tapered tip, and you could feel every bit of it. It slid against you, your fluids more than enough to give it easy passage. The tip pressed against your already throbbing bud with each thrust forward, and his thigh only pushed it further against you.

You wished you could grab a hold of him, dig your nails into his tanned flesh as he made you cum in such an abnormal way. The knot in your stomach tightened, his mouth switched breasts, and his right hand gripped your hip and began to make you rock against the assault on your sex. “That’s it, pretty thing, let go. Soak my thigh,” he said after he pulled away from your skin, his voice deep and a bit hoarse. One more hit from that tapered root tip and you were coming undone, groaning as you did so.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised, the roots began to lower you, his hands coming up to take you from them gently. “Do you think you can go over to that table there? I’ll be right behind you.”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, your legs felt like jelly. He chuckled and kissed your forehead before giving you a push in that direction. You stumbled but righted yourself and slowly made your way. The table was wet from the rain that had seemed to stop, it was cold, but you wanted to sit down. The table was slippery, your hair decorations still rested on the edge, the moist chill of the stone felt like a balm against your recovering sex. But you weren’t ready to be done and as you watched Hashirama’s naked form approach you, you clenched your thighs.

He was gorgeous, you had always thought so. The warm color of his, the toned muscles along his arms and pecks, even his abs were well defined. Your eyes drank in the sharp v of his hips as it led into a patch of curly black and a rather generous erection. His cock was long and thick with a delicious curve. Hashirama seemed rather proud of your attentions. His approach was slow with and with intention, when he reached you, he placed his arms on either side of you before his lips fell to yours once again.

This kiss was different, slower, but his twitching cock gave away his excitement. It was strange if you thought about it, you were being extremely intimate with a god, who’s abilities you doubted until he literally all but fucked you with them, and who you hadn’t believed in until the tryst began. But there was no time to think with his tongue back in your mouth and moving toward your throat. Your arousal drove you as you began to run your hands through his hair, down his back- he shivered at your light scratches. His hands moved, one rubbing the gold band again and the other boldly touching at your soaked folds. His pecks had the perfect amount of firmness, you liked squeezing them, and his abs quivered under your touch.

He broke the kiss again, his hand retreating from the apex of your thighs, you would have been embarrassed by the sticky trail that followed his fingers if Hashirama hadn’t looked so pleased. “Can I taste you?” You thought he meant his fingers, so you nodded, but when he knelt and spread your knees you were glad that hadn’t been what he meant.

The dark-haired man licked one long stripe along your lower lips before pushing your legs further apart to lap at your entrance. It felt like heaven. His tongue moved in opposite manners, started bottom to top then on the next lap it was top to bottom. He kissed your clit before sucking on it, your hips bucked automatically. His fingers came back and began to rub that bundle of nerves after his lips left it in favor of tonguing at your entrance. Your fingers went to his head, gripping his long tresses with urgency as you began to wholeheartedly ride his face. Hashirama groaned as you did, his tongue wriggling against your walls and driving you to the edge of sanity.

“Ha-Hashi,” you finish, your voice raising in pitch as your orgasm approached yet again. His fingers began to rub your clit faster, going back and forth as opposed to the circular motions they originally were. The noises that were coming from his mouth were debauched. He was groaning and moaning, almost as much as you were, his vigor like that of a man starved. Your fingers tightened in his hair, you would have worried that you were pulling too hard had your peak not hit you. “Mmm,” you whined, your eyes tearing up. Your hips kept moving, as did his tongue and fingers, and you rode out your orgasm until it hurt.

“Stop,” you begged softly. “Please, please, no more.”

He pulled away slowly, like he would go in for more at any moment. His chest heaved and his chin was covered in your slick. “You taste divine,” he told you, he looked as if he was the one who had reached his peak. “I don’t think I could ever tire of your taste.” The man stood back to his full height and began to position himself between your thighs. “Like the sweetest honey, haha, I’ll probably crave it again very soon. But unfortunately, I don’t think I can wait any longer.” You felt his tip begin to stretch your opening and you squeezed your eyes shut, but he didn’t move any further. “Tell me that you’re mine.”

“I am,” you nodded, your eyes opened once again. “I am yours.”

“That you’ll stay with me here, in the forest.”

“Stay in the forest?” You struggled to not give in, to not go along with everything just to feel more of him.

“That’s right, with me, forever,” Hashirama confirmed, his own breathing labored and arms shaking with restraint. “Say it.”

As you opened your mouth to respond he slid just a bit more inside and you groaned. “Yes,” you grunted, desperate in your need for more. More of him, inside you, enveloping you, more. “Yes, I’ll stay.”

He groaned and pushed in slowly. “Good,” he grunted. It felt like you were being split open, your mouth open in a silent gasp. He continued to push in, slow and steady, until he bottomed out and you could feel him in the deepest parts of you. His glans touched your cervix and your toes curled.

It was torturous, he hadn’t moved. You wanted him hard and fast, like he was going to break you in half, but when he pulled his hips back it was slow and methodical, like he wanted you to feel every inch drag against your walls, and oh did you. His hips snapped into yours and suddenly you were stuffed full again. You buried your face in his neck. “You feel so good, the way you rub and squeeze me, it makes me want nothing more than to pump you full of cum.”

With every snap inside, your sensitive breasts jostled against his chest and with every slow drag out you bit into his shoulder. “What’s wrong pretty?” You couldn’t tell if he was teasing or if he meant it. “If you need something you have to ask for it.”

He felt so good, but the slow methodical drag almost hurt. The stimulation was intense, like an itch that needed to be scratched. But it was still so good, you felt so full when he thrust inside and so empty as he took himself away. You felt a keening whine beginning in the back of your throat. You needed him faster.

“Please,” your fingernails began to dig into his back.

“Please what?” Another excruciatingly slow drag out.

“Hashirama, faster please,” you exclaimed. “Harder, please, fuck me until I can’t walk straight just- more please!”

He placed one hand on the back of your head and the other on your waist. “There’s a good girl, so pretty when you beg.” His hips began a brutal pace, his chest rumbled with his groans, his eyes closed as he also began to feel the pleasurable friction of his speed. “Such a good girl,” he said in a staccato, timing it with his thrusts. “Do you think anyone else could take my cock as well as you? You’re so special, so perfect.”

His words made your insides tingle, a pleasant sensation that began to build with your peak. You couldn’t help but gasp every time he hit your cervix. The sound of his aching balls smacking against your ass echoed against the stone walls, the mix of your combined sounds furthering your ecstasy. He moved your face to his and kissed you once again, your third climax of the evening crashing through you.

Your walls squeezed around him, and he groaned into your mouth as you began to milk him. He came as well, and the warmth of his seed made you gasp. Hashirama continued to pump himself into you until you began to feel overstimulated, until all spurts of his hot sperm had finished. He pulled out, his semen immediately began to trickle out of you, but instead of having a softened member, as was typical, he was still fully erect. You blinked up at him in surprise.

A chuckle left him, and he backed away for a moment, one of his hands reached between your legs to collect your combined fluids before he began to rub them along your skin. He rubbed it onto your breasts, your stomach, along the gold band, and the fat of your thigh. “Get on all fours on the table, pretty.” You scrambled to obey.

The hardness of the stone put pressure on your knees, but that pain flew to the back of your mind as you felt his hand move up your back to between your shoulder blades and his own pressure begin to push you down. With your face down and your ass in the air you shivered. Hashirama rubbed the flesh of your right cheek before giving it a light smack, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make your body move. “This is my favorite view. Your ass up, your hole on display and dripping with my cum. Nothing makes me harder.”

He entered you again, his pace fast and merciless. You almost missed the slow and tortuous one he had begun with. The new angle was almost too much, he hit your gspot and a sharp whine left you whenever he did. You thought your eyes might cross from the pleasure. “Touch yourself,” he panted. “Rub your clit for me.”

Eager to obey, you shakily reached a hand down and began to rub your abused clit. Tears stung your eyes; it was almost too much. It hurt but it also felt so good. “You look so pretty wrapped around my cock. I can’t imagine anyone would fit you better. No one could make you feel as good. Only me!”

“Ha,” you swallowed, your saliva thick in your throat. You were already at your peak again. It would have to be the last one, the pleasure was already more than you could handle. “Hashirama, I can’t, I,” you whined, loudly. It was too much, it felt too different. Something above the average orgasm was coming. “I can’t.”

“You can,” he told you, his own voice strained as he felt your walls begin to twitch around him. “Go on, cum on my cock again.”

You rubbed your clit a little harder and after two more thrusts of his godly member and you came for the fourth time. It felt like rapture. A loud gasp tore through you, and you could feel the gush of fluid leave you. He kept going, you kept coming. It seemed like there would be no end to the high and it made you want to sob. Too much of a good thing. “Such a good girl, you sprayed all over me,” he whispered and licked a stripe down your back, his own hips began to stutter. “Just a bit more.”

One more thrust, then two, then three, and he was pulling out. You felt the warmth of his cum hit your back and he trailed it down to your ass. When he was finished, you were both panting, his hand already rubbing his spend along your skin. In a more labored version of his disheartened voice he announced, “Ahh, I want to cover you in more cum.”

You began to shake your head, throat dry and sore from overusing your voice. There was no way you could take another round, your thighs were still trembling, blood still thrumming. “Don’t shake your head,” he tsked. His hair began to tickle your sides and you felt him press his over warm cheek against your hip. Hashirama placed a gentle kiss on your pelvic bone and put an open palm against your lower belly. “You can relax for now, after all, we have plenty of time for me to continue marking you,” there was his cheery lilt.

You heard it before you saw it, the plants beginning to move and cover the exists, even going so far as to block out any human sized hole in the skylights that could be used to crawl out of. A nervous shiver wracked your spine and goosebumps began to crawl along your skin as he licked a trail up your side from your raised hip. “After all, you said you’d be here with me forever.”

tagged list: @therantingfangirl @justmyownreality

Madara||Tobirama

Season 2

#mortyvongola2 0 fic #naruto series #fanfiction #mortyvongola2 fanfic #mortyvongola2 fic #hashirama smut #hashirama senju #hashirama senju smut #mortyvongola2-0 sacrificed series #hashirama x reader #hashirama x you #hashirama x y/n #hashirama senju x reader #tribute to the gods au #fanfic #reader insert

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mortyvongola2-0 · 2 years

Text

Day 6: Hair-pulling

At Wit's End

Pairing: Gaara of the Sand x Reader

Genre: Oneshot, smut, kinktober prompt

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: afab!reader, oral sex (female receiving), hair pulling (male receiving), little bit of dirty talk, Gaara is a bit of a dom in this ngl, vaginal fingering, lots of teasing, there's a little bit of fluff at the end

A/N: Man I love Gaara, like so much. This prompt was a prompt I was looking forward to and I'm sorry its so short but the ending just felt right. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy~

Read it on AO3

The flat press of his tongue against your folds had you letting out a noise that was a mixture of a gasp and squeak. The next swipe of his tongue placed a good amount of pressure against your vulnerable clit and you bit your bottom lip to help smother the noise. The young Kazekage had your legs pushed up against your chest, his hands pressed against your knees, while he gave the entirety of his attention to your weeping sex. You smoothed his fiery locks against the back of his head, but the more involved his tongue became the stronger your grip on his hair.

“You’re twitching so much,” his gruff voice and hot breath fanned over your flesh and made you shiver. “But we just started.”

“Don’t tease.”

“Hm.” He brought one of his deft fingers down to rub around your wet entrance. “I’ll think about it.”

Gaara began to rub his thumb against your sensitive bud and lap at your opening. His attentions were too light, only enough to stimulate you but not enough to bring you to that blissful edge. He pressed his thumb down on your clit, roughly, and you gasped and pulled on his spiked strands. It was a sharp tug, only for a moment, but it was enough to get that sharp hiss of breath from him that you loved so much. The former jinchuriki began to move his thumb quickly, keeping that same rough pressure, and focused on worming his tongue’s way inside of you.

“Mmm.” You bit your bottom lip and curled your free leg overtop of his pale shoulder. He moved his tongue slowly, torturously, as he dragged it against your sensitive walls. Rarely did he lose his patience, especially when it came to these sorts of things. The young Kazekage loved nothing more than to tease, to give pleasure but only to the extent he allowed. All in order to see your reactions, but his favorite was when you pulled on his soft strands.

The first time was an instinctual reaction, a sharp tug to try and ground yourself during your orgasmic high, but his response to it had been more surprising. A gasp with wide sea-foam greens, an involuntary buck of his hips, and a tremble down his spine were not a reaction you had expected but definitely one you savored. From then on, when given the opportunity, you’d make sure to pull at his hair at some point during your trysts. Gaara was the one who told you how he preferred it when it was a response to his actions, and you were never one to deny him.

His tongue curled against your vaginal walls, and you let out a weak moan. That devious muscle could play you like a fiddle. The way he knew how to work you, how to get the most out of you and yet chose to keep you on that ledge drove you insane. “G-Gaara, please,” you whined, your fingers gripping his strands tightly. You tugged again, attempting to spur him to go faster, but his self-control was too great. He continued his languid thrusting, his lazy manipulation of your turgid bud. You whined, your hips trying to move against his face in attempts to reach your release faster, but he moved his grip down from your knee to your pubic bone and pressed down on your center, thwarting your plans.

Against your wishes, he removed his tongue from inside of you, as well as his fingers, and you groaned in frustration. “So impatient,” he muttered. He sounded so gruff and raspy, and when you looked down at him you could see the telltale sheen of slick against his lips and chin. You wanted to pull him right back to your center by his hair. That’s exactly what he wants, you thought as you watched him tap his fingers against your skin gently. “What are you so eager for?”

He swirled one finger around your sopping entrance before gently pushing it inside and pumping it languidly. You tugged on his hair in response, groaning at the minute amount of relief and giving in to your baser need to have his mouth on you again. The quiet moan that left him at your pull made you tug on it again. “I’m always eager for more of you,” you muttered, to which he chuckled.

Giving into your needs, but only a little, he began to lap at your clit while he added a second finger, the pace only a bit faster than before. You needed so much more, the pleasure and teasing had created a knot in your stomach that was begging for release. Without thinking, you pulled at his strands again and tried to buck your hips. The hair pulling made him close his eyes for a moment and groan into your sex. He paused his ministrations briefly before starting them again, scissoring you and licking your bud with random zigzag patterns, and it could have just been your wishful thinking, but you thought, or rather hoped, that he had gotten just a bit quicker.

You moaned, your back arching as he added a third finger. That damned teasing pace continued. You were almost at your wits end—he hadn’t teased you for that long before! With three of his pale fingers moving so lazily inside you and his tongue seemingly practicing shapes against your overly sensitive clit you could hardly feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes. Truly, this was madness. Your legs twitched, both now locked behind his shoulders in order to keep your teasing lover in place, your thighs trembled, and your hands shook as they kept their ever-tightening grip on his hair.

“You’re clenching my fingers rather roughly,” he grumbled into your soaked flesh. “Do you need something?”

You swore you’d never felt so aggravated with the man in your life.

With the last remnants of your sanity, you let go of his hair and that made him pause. He looked up at you, those heated eyes of his seemingly questioning if he’d gone too far and if you were alright, his hand at your pubic bone removing itself to hold your trembling thigh gently. But your response came slowly, as you carded your fingers through those messy locks, scratching his scalp lightly as you went. His eyes closed again, and a soft breath left his lips and blew against your aching sex. Gaara resumed his movements, his frustratingly slow movements, and you gathered as much of his hair as you could from the back of his head.

You kept your legs locked behind him, made sure you had a satisfactory amount of hair, and waited. The quiet schlicks, the wet sound of his tongue moving against your throbbing clit, and your quiet pants were drowned out by the sound of blood rushing in your ears. Maybe he sensed something was coming, or maybe not, but all the same he seemed to pick up the pace by a noticeable amount. It was too late, as wonderful as it felt to finally have a bit more of that heavenly friction that you’d been seeking, you weren’t going to let him continue to tease you. You were tired of the edge, you wanted to fall off.

On the next curl of his fingers, you pulled at his hair, hard. Harder than you’d ever done before, and you pressed your heels into his back to get him as close as you physically could. You were sure the pulling had hurt, but he only let out a loud gasp in surprise, a very similar sound to the first time you’d pulled at his locks. And it worked, that incredible patience finally seemed to snap as you kept your tight grip and he began to devour you like a man starved.

A loud moan left you, your back arching above the bed. He let you roll your hips against his mouth and fingers at the erratic pace you had so desperately been waiting for. “Nnnn, Gaara.” You squeezed your eyes shut and felt the very beginnings of that release you so desperately needed. His tongue licked your clit rapidly, his three fingers thrusting so hard and deep inside of you that you were sure to be sore later. “Yesss, coming!”

With only a few more bucks of your hips, laps of his tongue, and thrusts of his fingers you were coming undone. To the best of your ability, you tried to keep that strong hold on his hair, knowing that was what he needed the most. He moaned as he felt your walls flutter around his fingers and your clit throb against his tongue. Gaara lifted his head just a bit, just enough to watch your face and body contort as you lost your grip on his head. Your legs fell from around his shoulders, and he held them open.

He sat up, watching you closely as you basked in the blissful feeling of release after being pent up for so long. His hair was a disaster, some red strands having been pulled off remained in your hands. His chin was soaked with the evidence of your desire and his eyes told you everything you needed to know. That heated gaze, those gorgeous orbs, told you that the two of you were far from finished. So, you gave him as best a wink you could in your state.

Gaara let out a puff of breath at your sloppy wink and crawled further up your form until he was right above your face. “You drive me to my wit’s end,” he muttered before placing a soft kiss on your temple. You loved the small smile that had found its way to his lips.

“I can say the same about you.”

tagged list: @therantingfangirl @justmyownreality @hashira-mal @nightingaleflow

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mortyvongola2-0 · 2 years

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Day 2: Mutual Masturbation

Loving Lesson

Pairing: Gaara of the Sand x Reader

Genre: Oneshot, smut, kinktober prompt

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: afab!reader, mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, fapping, pretty fluffy ngl

A/N: This is the softest smut I've ever written. Very fluffy, very domestic, very loving. For once there's not even any dirty talk which is crazy for me. If you're looking for more intense Gaara stuff don't worry, there will be later. Hope you enjoy!

Read it on AO3

Physical affections were something foreign to you, but you were learning and adapting quickly. Your boyfriend was rather similar in his comfortability with touching. You both had overcome much, initially hand holding had been the extent of both of your tolerances for a few months before moving forward to embraces and continuing the progress to get to what you were so anxiously excited about. Both of you had been together long enough, longer than most other couples before they passed the stage you had yet to take on but that didn’t matter, what mattered is that you both felt ready.

He had broached the subject first, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks and an avoidant stare to the side the only tells as to his own mental anxiety about the question. You had agreed, maybe a bit too quickly. The both of you had decided on a night where you both had a relatively lax schedule and you waited anxiously for the day to arrive. When it came, you had to ask your best friend to help you prepare.

She had helped you choose clothes, specifically underwear, that you had no idea even counted as underwear. You had never felt so pretty before, it was a good feeling but an unfamiliar one. When you arrived at his door you felt like your heart might burst from your chest. It’s just a regular date, you reminded yourself. A regular date with a little extra after dinner.

Before you could even knock on the door it opened and your favorite redhead stood before you, his body language giving more away than his face. He was a bit tense, his shoulders set back and straight, his hands clenching and unclenching, and there was an unrest to the sand around him. His nerves made you feel a bit better about your own. You smiled at him, wide and loving before he let you in and your date began.

The food was delicious, the conversation lighthearted and mostly steered away from work. When it came time for the after-dinner portion you were so comfortable you had almost forgotten about your plans. He held your hand gently, stroking the roughened skin from years of ninja work and training, as you both sat on the couch. Was he procrastinating or was he just taking your comforts into consideration? Either way you didn’t mind, you knew that he wanted you and that you wanted him too. Hesitation always came with change. Even if he suddenly changed his mind, you would be alright, maybe a bit disappointed, but respecting his boundaries was more important.

He hesitated a moment, his gentle strokes pausing as he looked you in the eyes. That lovely seafoam green made you melt a little bit. His gaze was meaningful and endearing. “Are you ready? We can do this later if you need more time.”

You thought for a moment, despite already knowing your answer, you wanted to be as sure as you could be; masturbating, but together, that was a big step after all. The farthest you both had gotten was some light under the clothes exploration, nothing too heavy. But you wanted more, much more. You wanted the full relationship experience and you only wanted to share it with him. He was the love of your life after all.

“No, I’m ready. Are you ready?”

His light strokes resumed as he gave the same amount of contemplation you did before he nodded seriously. “Yes, I want to—” he cut himself off and looked to the coffee table for a moment. The young Kazekage turned back to watch you intensely, his eyes looked like molten colored glass. “I want to learn how to make you feel good.”

You didn’t think it was possible for your cheeks to feel any warmer.

“Me too,” you muttered, feeling the twisting nerves in your gut from excitement and nerves. A lump began to form in your throat and to distract yourself from the thrum of your overly-excited heart you leaned forward to press you lips to his. You noticed that his were a bit chapped, not that yours weren’t, but you decided that when this was all over you were going to tell him to drink more water. Should you gift him a bottle for your anniversary? Maybe a big one, with cute cactus stickers—focus on Gaara, dummy.

Right, focus, you chastised yourself. He kept his hold on one of your hands as he gently reached behind your head with the other one. Carefully, with little pressure, he brought you closer to deepen the kiss. Your tongue moved first, licking against him and coaxing his own into action. His tongue met yours and they stroked one another with a soft eagerness. You pulled your hand from his and wrapped your arms around his neck and he placed his now free hand on your hip. His tongue moved back first, allowing yours access to his mouth which you took full advantage of.

On average, you found that he tasted like sand. Not terrible, but also not the best flavor, but to your pleasure he tasted more like dinner with a hint of sand. A pleasurable change that made you hum into his mouth. Once your tongue was finished stroking the roof of his mouth his tongue entered yours. He dragged his tongue against the inside of your cheek and you begin to run your fingers through his crimson hair.

When you both pulled away you felt alight with excitement, you both watched each other as you breathed before you nodded and detangled yourself for a moment, beginning to fiddle with the hem of your shirt. “Here or the bedroom?”

He took a moment before replying, “Bedroom.”

With eagerness, you both stood at the same time and began to walk, albeit a bit quickly, toward his room. After you both entered, he shut and locked the door, and you took off your fancy shirt and folded it before setting it off to the side. You fiddled with the frilled bow at the front of your bra for a minute before working up the courage to look at him. He seemed enamored, his hands unsure of what to do but his eyes soft and heated as they took in your rarely bare form. Gaara, whether to level the field or to get to the pleasure quicker, he took his shirt off as well.

You’d seen his bare chest only a handful of times, but the more you saw of it the better. His pale skin and lithe muscled form always excited you. For a moment you contemplated removing your pants too before deciding that was indeed the best option. When you had finished folding and setting down your clothes you waited anxiously for his next move. Likewise, he removed his pants and placed them neatly on top of his dresser. “Should we sit on the bed?”

He nodded, and you both got on opposite sides and faced each other. The redhead kissed you this time, and you ran your hands along his exposed chest until he began to shudder. His hands wandered and gently pressed against your covered breasts before stroking along your sides. You shivered when his strong fingers settled on your naked inner thighs. When you both pulled away, a small string of saliva connected your mouths for a moment before it broke and you asked, “Should we get started?”

Gaara’s serious nod made you giggle a bit, feeling high off of your nerves, and he gave you a small smile. You took a deep breath as you sat back from him and he from you, making sure that both got a good view of each other. He kept his boxers on, you didn’t push him to remove them, but his hands shook as he removed his erection from the black material. Your breath hitched in your throat. He was on the longer side with a thickness that looked just right. You felt your sex throb.

Your staring seemed to get to him, as he looked away with cheeks and chest almost as red as his hair. His adam’s apple bobbed, “Can I see you to?”

Broken out of solo staring contest, you nod nervously before hooking your thumbs in the waistband of your panties and sliding them down your hips. You almost squeaked when you realized how wet your underwear had gotten, and when you spread your legs for him you bit your bottom lip as you showed him just how excited you were. His breathing audibly stuttered, and your fingers twitched as they rested on your trembling thighs.

You wanted to squirm as his eyes were glued to you, and you understood how he felt while you stared at him. Were you pleasing? You thought you looked relatively normal but maybe there was something weird you hadn’t seen. “I-I’m going to s-start, okay?”

“Right,” he swallowed thickly. “Right, me too.”

Slowly, you brought your fingers to the wet skin of your lower lips and ran them over your excited flesh. You didn’t masturbate often, but you had once or twice to the thought of your boyfriend. But when he was there in front of you, doing something similar while watching you, it made it hard to think about anything. Your eyes were drawn to the slow up and down stroke of his fist as he began his own show, you became transfixed.

As you watched his rhythm, your own naturally followed. When he thumbed his tip, you circled your thumb on your clit, when he stroked all the way down before slowly stroking up again, you gently inserted a finger into yourself and moaned. Your thumb stayed on your clit and you pumped your finger to the same speed of his hand. It seemed like he hadn’t been fully erect when the two of you started, as his member had only gotten bigger and more agitated as you continued.

Eventually you decided one of your fingers wasn’t enough, especially while looking at such a lovely example of what could be stuffed inside of you instead, and you added a second. The stretch was something you weren’t entirely used to, but Gaara seemed to thoroughly enjoy the sight. His cock had throbbed, so much so that even you could see it, and the tip had dribbled more of the clear fluid than it had been releasing before. He groaned and you moaned in response.

You moved your free hand up and removed your bra, beginning to feel impatient. Your thumb sped its circling as you heard the sounds of his wet skin and your own slick meld together, accompanied by your soft noises and his pants and grunts, in a sensual symphony. “Gaara,” you let out as you thumbed your left breast until your nipple pebbled under your touch. The tightening in your abdomen grew stronger and it became harder to not close your eyes and revel in the feeling, but you didn’t want to miss a second of him.

The tips of his ears, his cheeks, neck and top of his chest was flushed a delicious shade of pink. His brow bone and forehead were furrowed in concentration and his eyes remained glued to your slick soaked fingers and thrumming clit. He had yet to notice your naked breasts. Your boyfriend let out a moan of your name and you mewled and began to scissor yourself. You didn’t think you would last much longer. His lust blown eyes trailed up your body and took in your naked breasts eagerly. The redhead watched them rise and fall with every shaky breath you took, and jiggle with every thrust of your fingers.

“Not much l-longer,” you whimpered. Your skin tingled and you began to feel the pleasure more and more intensely.

“Me too,” his gravelly voice took on an extra level of baritone. So deep that if he had spoken it in your ear you would have cum just from the sound alone. “T-Together?”

“Together.” You nodded, still breathy and on edge.

Your eyes met and stayed glued together. If only you were the one stroking him, if he was inside would it feel even better than this? He reached his free hand out and you leaned toward it, placing your cheek in his warm hand and tentatively licking his open palm. The redhead flinched, his eyes squeezed shut and he gasped your name.

You felt it before you realized, and you let out your own gasp when the hot fluid hit your leg. “G-Gaara,” you moaned out, over drawn and breathy as your orgasm flowed through you. Your eyes squeeze shut and your toes curled as your hands stopped their motion and you tried to catch your breath. His thumb rubbed your cheek continuously, his other hand still as he remained hunched over.

“I didn’t learn anything,” he huffed, slight amusement to his tone. A breathy laugh left your lips and you brought your head down to rest against his forehead, in a teasing lilt you said, “Really? I learned that you need to drink more water and,” you licked your lips before lowering your eyelids in an attempt at being sultry, “I memorized every little move you made, love.”

tagged list: @therantingfangirl @justmyownreality @hashira-mal

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#kinktober 2022 #naruto series #kinktober #gaara x y/n #gaara x you #gaara x reader #gaara smut #mortyvongola2 0 fic #reader insert #gaara of the sand #gaara fanfic #naruto fanfiction #subaku no gaara #gaara of the desert

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mortyvongola2-0 · 2 years

Text

Day 5: Aphrodisiacs

Venom

Pairing: Shino Aburame x Readee

Genre: Gift, smut, kinktober prompt

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: afab!reader, vaginal sex, aphrodisiacs, no refractory period, dirty talk, lots of sweat, Shino canonically has one of the biggest dicks in Naruto and that's a fact, missionary, doggy, venom as aphrodisiac, unprotected sex, marathon sex, multiple creampies, Aburame's have golden eyes change my mind

A/N: This is dedicated to the wonderful @justmyownreality. She's awesome and so is Shino and he deserves more fanfictions and she deserves all the love~ This was fun, I hope I was able to do Shino justice and I hope you all enjoy!

Read it on AO3

You huffed as you pushed another oversized leaf out of your face. It was hot, you were sticky with sweat and growing more uncomfortable by the second—it didn’t help that your mission partner was not only completely oblivious, but he seemed relatively unbothered by the environment despite wearing a long sleeved, black shirt and bright orange pants. Not to mention the two of you had yet to even see the criminal you were sent out there to get in the first place. A cold shower, your AC unit, and your handsome boyfriend were all you wanted to think about.

“Oi, Naruto, slow down. We won’t be able to find him if we’re speeding through here.”

“Its fine, its fine, ya know. If we go faster, we’ll find him faster.”

“No, I don’t think that’s how—”

“There he is! Hey, you! Stop right there!”

“Ah, Naruto wait a minute!”

The chase didn’t take very long, despite Naruto doing his own thing, as he always did. You stood beside the unconscious, and tied up, man as you waited for the rest of the team that Naruto went to notify. “Damn mosquitos,” you muttered as your hand shooed another away from your skin before it could land. “Uhg, I hate this place.”

Another couple of bugs tried to get to you and you swatted them away, trying your best not to kill them. “Why don’t you go after the unconscious guy instead?”

“Oi,” Naruto called your name as he approached. “Let’s go, we’re gathering over there.”

“I’m more than ready.” As you turned to start heading toward the meeting area, you felt that telltale pinch of a bug bite and sighed in exasperation as you turned to swat the mosquito away. When you saw it, you paused. It didn’t look like a mosquito. It was large and long, brown with red stripes along its carapace, and you stared at it in shock as it continued to bite you.

“Ah!” Naruto yelled and squashed the bug against your skin. Bug guts and blood splattered on your flesh as the blonde looked at you incredulously. “What the hell was that, are you okay?”

“I think so?” You wiped away the guts and squashed carcass to check on the bug bite. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, it seemed like a typical mosquito bite, so you shrugged and nodded. “Let’s just go meet up with everyone.”

A few days later found you laying underneath your home fan, still sweltering despite having arrived back the day before. The Sixth had given your team a few days off to rest, and you gladly accepted hoping to relax and unwind while you could, but how were you supposed to do that when you were still so hot? You felt warm all over, sweating and flushed from head to toe. You’d never before felt so gross in your life.

You styled your hair to be as far from your neck as possible, you felt less nauseated when cold air brushed against your nape. Along with the intense heat was an incredible thirst that no amount of water, milk, soda, or juice could quench. Never before had you felt so miserable. All you could think to do before was soak yourself in as cold of a bath as you possible could, but as you laid there having only experienced a small amount of temporary relief, you noticed how inflamed your most recent bug bite had gotten. “Maybe I should go to the hospital after all,” you muttered to yourself.

Redressing was taxing, the clothes felt sweltering, despite their shortness in nature, and clung to your skin from the sweat. After you clipped your hair out of the way, opting for flipflops over your normal sandals, you grabbed your essentials and headed out the door. You began to make your way to the hospital, the hot sun not helping you as it beat against your exposed skin. But how could you not expose so much skin? If you wore even more, or thicker clothes, you were sure you would’ve died of heat stroke.

Before you could enter the large white building, you caught sight of a certain dark-haired, sun-glassed shinobi and paused. Your heart beat against your chest, and it wasn’t due to the sweltering heat that time. In fact, you almost thought it made the heat worse. The Aburame would surely know about bug bites, right? Surely, they had all sorts of antivenom; there was no need to go to the hospital when you could just ask the heir to one of the most knowledgeable clans in Konoha, right? It definitely didn’t have anything to do with him being your boyfriend or anything, definitely not.

The two of you had begun your relationship about six months ago. It had been going well, but recently a tension had grown that the two of you had yet to approach. Whenever you both were alone together it was palpable, you hadn’t even been able to give him a light peck on the lips without feeling tingly from your head to your toes. You really wanted to take things to the next level, but were unsure about how to bring it up, or even initiate it.

With a shiver and a large amount of determination you began to follow after your tall boyfriend. Man, he was so tall, and so attractive. That spiked long hair, you liked it better long like that and really wanted to run your hands through it again, to tug on it as you rode those full, plush, lips and— “Shino!”

He paused his stride and looked down at you as you approached. Gosh, he was so handsome. “Oh,” he started in that deep baritone that made the base of your neck tingle and brought goosebumps to your flesh. Your name left his lips and you practically melted into goo. “Is everything alright? The reason for my question being, you look flushed and—” he cut himself off, you watched as his adam’s apple bobbed with his swallow. “And uncomfortable.”

“Actually, that’s part of why I’m here. I need your help.”

“My help?” His defined brows furrowed.

“Yeah, I think this bug bite is making me sick.” You showed him the inflamed bump on your arm.

“I see, do you know what type of insect it was?”

“Well, no not really.” You fidgeted as you began to grow more and more uncomfortable. That thirst became your greatest enemy, your throat felt dry and it made you swallow continuously. There was that familiar tingling that had started in your lower belly, and you wanted nothing more than to get out of the sun’s rays.

“Come with me, the reason being I can better assess the situation with information at home.”

“Okay.” It was a struggle not to openly pant as you looked at him, your eyes glazing over as your thoughts drifted to imagine what he looked underneath all of those clothing layers. “Let’s do that then.”

The walk to the Aburame estate felt incredibly long. Though Shino was excellent company, his proximity only seemed to increase your dilemma. Every few steps or so, your arms would brush against each other and you almost groaned every time. It was almost like too much stimulation. And all of that coupled with the heat, the thirst, and tingling in your gut made for an excruciating experience. All you wanted was some relief, and at that point you didn’t really care what you had to do to get it. You needed. Needed it more than anything else.

Shino didn’t seem all too comfortable either and you couldn’t blame him. It would be a bit awkward to walk beside your significant other who was so obviously overheated, uncomfortable, and kept looking you up and down like you were a glass of water in a desert. You didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable, or to eat him alive with your eyes. When you were in the right headspace, you’d be sure to apologize profusely for your actions, probably even buy him some melon to make up for it.

The two of you entered the estate quietly and it seemed no one else was home. You could’ve been wrong, your senses as haywire as they were, but when Shino didn’t give any greetings or go anywhere but to his area of the home you figured you were, in fact, the only two in the house. “Would you like some tea?”

You stared at him for a bit before your brain finally registered what he asked. “Oh, sure, thank you.”

He told you to make yourself comfortable—you were in a drawing room of sorts it seemed—and you sat on the seat cushion provided as you waited for his return. You hated how you couldn’t stop squirming, you were a ninja, you’d survived the Fourth Great Ninja War, had succeeded on many missions, some were even solo missions, and here you were being brought down by a single bug bite.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you, Shino.” You took the tea and set it to the side for a moment, it was far too hot for you to attempt to drink in your current state.

“So, how did the insect that bit you appear?”

You began to tell him about the bug, how big it was, where it bit you, and where your mission was to give him a better idea of the insect population there. “And your symptoms?”

If you could be any more flushed, you would have been. It was a bit embarrassing to tell the object of your affections how overheated you were, how thirsty you were, and how wet you were. You decided it’d be better to tell him the first two and leave the last bit out of your explanation. “I’ve been overheated since I got back, and so thirsty but no matter how much I drink I don’t feel better.”

“Is that all?” He leaned in closer to you from across the table, you looked away from his shaded gaze but not before catching a glimpse of those golden orbs. The intensity took your breath away. “The reason being, the Diptera you have described, their venom, causes more symptoms.”

You finally took a sip of the tea he had offered; it was refreshing. Mint probably. It suited him well. You looked anywhere but at him as you placed the cup back down and shook your head, feigning nonchalance as best as you could in your current state. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Heightened arousal,” he stood and walked around the small table toward you. The man towered over your sitting form, and then even as he bent to kneel over you, he remained quite a bit above you. You shivered and leaned back while looking away. “I don’t believe you. The reasons being, your dilated pupils,” his hand pressed against the floor behind you beside your head. Shino had you practically pinned to the floor. He was so close you could feel his body heat against your already overly warm flesh, you almost whimpered. “The hitching of your breath, the distinctive squirming, and the hungry way your eyes devour me. You desire me.”

Even if you hadn’t before you certainly did then. You shivered, keeping your eyes away from his as you continued the same squirming he’d called you out on. You almost gave in to the need to breathe through your mouth, to pant like an animal in heat, but you didn’t and tried your best to keep your wits about you. “The insect you encountered, has a distinctive venom that worsens as it continues to circulate in your blood stream.”

He removed his glasses, and you took a peek at his honeyed eyes and bit your bottom lip. They were heated, like liquid gold as they stared you down. The Aburame inched closer, his breath fanning over your ear as he began to whisper directly to it. The low rumble of his voice broke you, and you let out a gasp as he whispered to you. “Its venom acts like an aphrodisiac in humans, with only one way to satisfy it.”

“W-What way is that?”

The young heir remained silent for a moment, his hot breath made you feel dizzy. As you squeezed your thighs together for friction, you felt just how wet you were and how badly you wanted the insect specialist. “It has to be worked out. Thoroughly.”

He may not have said it, but the implications made your insides clench. Shino seemed to hesitate for a moment, backing up only a bit so he could look you in the eyes. “Are you willing to—” again he paused, it seemed like he may have some nerves of his own despite the confident bravado. “Are you willing to allow me to treat you?”

“Yes,” you squeaked, your tongue slipping out to lick your dry lips and try to clear your throat. The sound of your voice was raspy, desperate, “Please, please, yes.”

Shino visibly shivered.

The next few seconds were a messy blur of lips, tongue, and teeth. He tasted like mint, like the tea. His large hands shook as they roamed over your sweat soaked skin and pushed your flimsy shirt up toward your neck and exposed your breasts to his greedy fingers and lips. Both of Shino’s hands, warm and calloused from years of training, enveloped and kneaded your chest in a rough manner. After breaking the kiss his tongue licked a stripe down your neck and if you had the mental capacity, you would have been embarrassed by the sweat; but you didn’t, you were too far gone.

He licked his way down, avoiding the crumpled material of your shirt, and lapped at the flesh of your breasts, he took a softened peak between his lips and sucked hard. You moaned, your hands reaching out and tugging at his outer jacket. The Aburame heir shrugged out of the coat, his lips still focusing on your pebbled bud, and he threw the material somewhere off to the side. His teeth scrapped against your nipple before he roughly bit into the underside of your breast, and you cried out. When you started to tug at his vest he pulled back from your skin and began to speak once again.

“Your skin tastes so sweet.” He took his vest off and began to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants. His voice was deeper, much deeper, his own skin flushed, and his eyes were drowning in lust, he seemed close to panting. “The reason being the venom turns your own body fluids into a similar aphrodisiac.”

With that he licked another stripe over your breast, his deft fingers pushed his pants past his hips, and with a matched eagerness you pulled your own shorts and underwear off. You lifted your hips to aide in the removal of your clothing and as they came up, they came in contact with an absurdly large, hard, and throbbing piece of flesh. “Shino you—” you cut yourself off as you looked down to his member and you felt like your eyes were about to pop out of your head. “Huge,” you muttered.

The insect user looked to the side, somehow still embarrassed despite the situation, before his lust won out and he pressed that monstrous erection between your slicked folds. You immediately moaned, both in relief and pleasure, and you laid your head back to keep your hips up and moving against his. “So wet,” he panted, his heavy tip bumping against your clit as he rubbed against you. He kept rubbing, and groaning in that delicious tone of his, and you kept shifting your hips and begging for him to put it in.

“Shino, please I can’t—” your breathing hitched and your thighs began to tremble as you struggled not to climax from the pressure of his member rubbing against your throbbing clit. “Please, please, put it in. I need you so bad.”

You felt his erection throb against you, and again he shivered. He pressed his face between your breasts as he nodded and brought a hand down to guide himself inside. His fingers poked at your entrance to make sure he was positioned correctly before pressing the head inside. It was a burning stretch, the lack of preparation adding to the discomfort as he spread you impossibly wide. A hiss left your throat and you had to shift your hips to adjust, and he sunk in deeper. “Nnnh,” you closed your eyes.

It hurt, but it felt so good all the same. His face was tense with concentration, his jaw locked and teeth grinding as he did his best to not push in all at once. The Aburame pushed in deeper, and you whined in both impatience and pleasure. You panted and wrapped your legs around his waist and pushed him further in. As he bottomed out, both of your mouths fell open with a sharp gasp.

His hands shook as they held your hips, and you clawed at his back with your nails, trying to find your bearings and get him to scratch the itch that was driving you insane. Shino seemed to be struggling just the same, his body wracked with shivers and fingers twitching against your flesh, his golden irises were shut off from the world, tightly, as he breathed shaky breaths. You squirmed a bit to try and relieve the pressure and heard his breath hitch. Unconsciously, or at least you assumed unconsciously, his hips began to buck against you.

It felt instinctual, the way his hips moved against yours and the way yours moved back. Your throat felt scratchy, your lower belly felt tight as the pleasure built. The friction from his thrusts scratched the itch you had been so desperate to relieve since the damned bug bite. “S-Shino,” you moaned, your nails blazed a trail down his back and your toes curled as you reached your first peak, the Aburame heir followed you to your heaven shortly. But it still wasn’t enough.

The two of you kept going, only pausing for a brief moment to confirm the mutual need to continue. He felt so good, the perfect angle, the perfect size; when you both changed positions, you were on your hands and knees as he took you from behind, and he reached parts of you that you hadn’t realized could be reached. Shino’s voice spurred you on and he knew it. He made sure to lean down and moan, grunt, groan, and gasp right into your ear. He came before you the second time, but even then, neither of you wanted to stop.

It was incredible, it was exhausting, it continued until late into the evening. You estimated that you’d both stopped somewhere around the sixth time. The both of you collapsed, the overwhelming thirst and heat finally satiated, and you felt completely spent. There was a giddiness that began to spread through your chest and you couldn’t help but smile at the tired look on your boyfriend’s normally passive face. He was covered in sweat, as were you, but his soft ambers didn’t leave your form. “We should clean up,” he began, his own voice gruff with overuse and an increasing amount of sleepiness. “The reason being—"

“We’re gross,” you interrupted, voice nothing more than a hoarse rasp.

“Yes.” Shino pushed some hair back from your face. “Are you feeling better?"

“I don’t know,” you teased. “We may have to go one more round for me to know for sure.” “Anything for your treatment.”

tagged list: @therantingfangirl @justmyownreality @hashira-mal

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