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Chapter Text

When Sakura joins ANBU, standard protocol dictates that she is required to complete a mandatory seduction course. She doesn’t know what to expect from the training, but for the most part, it ends up being quite theoretical. The instructors (a rotating group of seduction specialists) cover the varied expectations for missions, tactics for enticing someone, how to create optimal henges, effective genjutsu strategies, what poisons work best in subduing a target, etc. 

Although seduction missions are required of all black ops agents, individuals are generally able to determine on a case-by-case basis how much is necessary in order to fulfill the objective, unless the mission parameters have explicit instructions. The majority of the missions, as she finds out, don’t require shinobi to have sex with targets, but merely use seduction tactics as a means of getting close to someone without attracting unwanted scrutiny. 

Still, it is recommended that all ANBU agents are comfortable enough so that if something unexpected does happen while on assignment, they don’t freeze up and compromise the mission. After all, there’s no going back, and no one is overly eager to lose their virginity to some crusty old guy that they’re being paid to seduce, and later kill or swindle information out of. 

It’s now of all times that Sakura’s mind floats back to the words Zabuza had once spoken to their team in that disastrous mission to the Land of Waves: “Shinobi are simply tools”. The words have never fully left her head, because at the time, she thought he must be wrong. To a younger Sakura, being a shinobi was all about protecting your comrades, fighting for honor, and upholding your village’s pride. Maybe all of those things ended up becoming ideals that she still holds onto, and yes, there are elements of pride and loyalty in the shinobi way... But the only distinction between loyal shinobi and missing-nin is the simple fact that one follows orders from their Kage while the other fights for themselves. 

When she thinks of herself as an enactor of Konoha’s will, it’s not difficult to extend that rationality to using her body, her entire body, as a tool. Of course, there are things she would rather not do, but all missions need to be completed. If she doesn’t do it, someone else will… somehow, that makes it easier to justify.  

Still though, she doesn’t want her first experience with sex to be something that she ends up blanking out from her memory. She’s not as idealistic as she used to be; she doesn’t need to be married and it doesn’t need to be romantic, but before the missions start it will be her decision alone. 

Earlier that day, she received her first seduction mission assignment for a few days from now, which doesn’t give her a lot of time to scout out her prospects. 

Tonight is as good as any. She stands in front of a mirror and casts her ANBU henge, her hair darkening to blood red while her eyes mute to a light gray, and then slips on a silky black dress that clings to her modest curves. Since the dress has some built in support, she omits a bra, but slides on a pair of lacy black panties that Ino made her buy that she’s never had the occasion to wear before. She fastens on a pair of sensible heels and then settles for applying just a thin layer of eyeliner and a shade of dark lipstick to match her hair. 

After giving herself a once over and proving satisfied enough with her appearance, she heads out to a civilian bar. She doesn’t want to run into anyone she knows, even if she is in henge, and there’s less risk in sleeping with civilians. On the off chance that no one catches her eye, she has a few more nights to try again. 

As she walks into the bar, she internally categorizes the various types scattered throughout the crowd. There are some couples draped around each other in booths, a loud group of civilian girls throwing back shots, and a fair number of individuals flying solo. Quite a few of the men are leering at her figure in a way that sends a chill up her spine. The stares feel… too nasty to be something she would willingly sign up for. If it’s for a mission, she’ll handle the discomfort, but tonight isn’t for that, not really, and when it’s just for herself, she wants to actually be attracted to the guy. 

After scanning the bar’s remaining occupants, her eyes are drawn, almost magnetically, to a man sitting alone at the counter in a green overcoat and tan scarf. He looks to be a little older than her, with ashy brown hair that curls at the ends and eyes that are a duller shade of green than Sakura’s own. 

There’s something vaguely familiar about the deep purple markings that travel halfway down his cheeks… maybe she’s thinking of Kankuro? Except, whereas the Suna native’s war paint strikes her as a little unnerving (perhaps when combined with the whole puppet thing), on this man, it only seems to highlight the definition of his cheekbones. 

Taking the empty stool next to him, she orders a cup of sake from the bartender as the man turns his head slightly towards her. He raises his glass and takes a slow sip while appraising her, and her eyes fixate first on the wettening of his full lips as he drinks, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he swallows, and then on the little mole that dots just under the left side of his mouth. There’s something devilishly intriguing about his features and she mentally pats herself on the back for a pick well-chosen. 

When he puts his glass back down, he smiles at her as if he knows exactly the extent of his own charm.

“Kaede,” she says, returning the smile and extending her hand towards him. He grasps it delicately in his own, letting the contact linger for a moment. His thumb swipes teasingly across her knuckles before he retracts his hand to raise his drink to his lips once more. She watches a droplet of condensation trail alongside the edges of the glass.

“Sukea,” he offers in a light tenor voice that sends delicious shivers across her skin. Like a lightbulb had gone off over her head, the name jolts scattered rememberings of a photographer who had once helped Team Seven try to unmask Kakashi-sensei. She sips on her own drink, trying to recall her brief memories of the man. 

They had spent a day with him way back when, and she remembers him mentioning offhandedly that he had been in ANBU at one point; she wonders why he’s in a civilian bar of all places, but then again, so is she. 

Regardless, since he had once been in ANBU himself, she knows that he’s trustworthy, which was something Yugao had taken the time to warn her about (sex between unknown shinobi was strongly discouraged since there was always the potential that they were a spy). He also must be at least a decade older than her, but in the shinobi lifestyle, that doesn’t really mean anything other than the fact that he’s likely quite experienced. [‘Shannaro, bitches ’ Inner chimes in gleefully.] He was also patient enough to put up with three obnoxious brats, and although she’s certainly not planning on starting something with the man, she doesn’t really want to have sex with an asshole either. 

Her tongue darts out quickly to wet her dry lips and she’s pleased when she notices his gaze following the movement. 

“So what brings you out tonight, Sukea-san?”

A long, slender finger slowly circles the rim of his empty glass. 

“Hmm… hiding from friends, avoiding responsibilities,” he trails off with a playful smirk. 

She grins flirtatiously before shifting marginally in her stool so that her thigh brushes against his leg, watching with satisfaction as his eyebrow twitches upwards, his eyes gleaming with unmasked interest. 

There’s a darker quality to his tone as he inquires: “And you, Kaede-san? What sort of bad behaviors are you getting up to this evening?” His voice is dripping with innuendo as he purrs out the last phrase. 

“I wonder…” she replies coyly, never dropping her eyes from his heated look. He taps his fingers against the wooden countertop of the bar and hums, a low-pitched reverberation that makes her skin break out in goosebumps and feel feverish all at once. 

His gaze is fixated on her with an intensity that makes her writhe in her seat. She watches his eyes flick downwards to follow the movement before tracing back up the exposed skin of her legs and across the tight fabric of her dress. His pupils seem to dilate as he breathes in and there’s something vaguely predatory in the look he gives her that makes her shiver with anticipation. Briefly, she wonders who’s supposed to be seducing who after all.

While trying to regain slight control, she asks suggestively, “Can I buy you another round, Sukea-san?”

His hand drops to rest on the side of his own leg, but his thumb is close enough to brush against the exposed skin of her outer thigh. She leans into his touch instinctively and he smirks at her, his lips parting enough to reveal pointy canines that immediately snatch her attention. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be my line, Kaede-san,” he teases back while his hand migrates to fully rest on her leg. His palms are wide, spanning the entire breadth of her thigh, and send a tingling rush of warmth through her skin. She bites her bottom lip as his fingertips begin a torturous trail, up and down her skin with the lightest of grazes, her arousal skyrocketing as she tries to squeeze her thighs tighter together for a little relief. 

His grin widens further, tugging a little crookedly to one side and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t get that mouth on her at some point in the very near future. 

She tilts her head contemplatively, “Hm, well you’re certainly welcome to buy the next round if you’d like Sukea-san.”

His smile broadens, but she’s not done yet. She bends forward to let her lips brush up against the shell of his ear and murmurs warmly, “Or… we could have a drink at your place?”

There’s something downright wolfish in the look he gives her now before his hand halts in its movements, shifting to squeeze her inner thigh, his thumb sweeping tantalizingly close to her core. She almost whimpers at the feeling before the warmth disappears and he drops down a handful of change to cover both of their drinks. His eyes are glued to hers as he reaches for her hand before gently tugging her off of the stool and leading her out the door. She smiles with wicked satisfaction. Game, set, match.

—

As soon as they push through the doors to the bar, Sukea leads her to the side of the building and brackets her against the wall with his torso. He’s tall enough that his lips hover just out of reach as he tilts his head down to smirk at her. His breath is hot against her lips and her body feels on the verge of snapping from the tightly wound tension before he finally, almost tentatively, closes the distance between their mouths. 

The first brush of his lips against hers is testing, sweet, warm, nothing like what she expected from the hungry looks he had been giving her earlier. His hands find their way to her waist, gripping tightly and pulling their hips flush so that his half-hard length is pressing so deliciously against her center and she thinks absentmindedly, ‘oh there it is’ . 

After a few gentle kisses, his tongue flicks across her bottom lip and she parts her mouth to allow him access, but he doesn’t take advantage of it yet. His hesitation is cute, she thinks lightly to herself, but she wants more and she’s more than happy to push for it. Wrapping her hand around the back of his neck, she pulls his mouth to slant more fully against hers before sliding her tongue out to hotly tangle with his own. 

He groans openly into her mouth before rolling his hips experimentally, making her whimper at the sensation. Impatiently, she unbuttons his overcoat, pulling it open to eagerly slide her hands over his chest. She can clearly feel the defined musculature of his torso through the layer of fabric and is itching to rip off his clothes and trace his bare muscles for herself. His eyes flutter shut as his hand finds its way to her ass and presses her tighter against his body, his mouth dominating hers as their hips continue to roll together insatiably. By this point, she can feel the dampness of her panties soaking through the thin material of her dress. It should be embarrassing. 

And yet–

She’s practically rutting against a stranger while fully clothed, in full view of anyone who might walk by the darkened alleyway, but she can’t scrape together the basic sense to be mortified when all she can feel is her escalating arousal. 

“Is this…” he breathes out between kisses, “still okay?” 

She nips at his lip as if to highlight the absurdity of the question in her mind before trailing her tongue along the pointy canines that she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about. 

“Yes,” she exhales emphatically, the single word underlined with so much desire. His eyes dart to catch her gaze once more, and by now, his pupils are blown wide with raw lust. His voice is an octave lower as he nips at her earlobe before his hot lips trail down her neck. 

“Then…” he begins in a darkened voice that makes her shiver in anticipation, “shall we go somewhere a little more private?”

—

She barely has time to whisper out a, “please,” before he wraps his arms around her and flashes through a few quick seals behind her back. With the speed of an honestly ridiculously fast shunshin, she finds herself in a pitch dark room, his body heat leaving her abruptly cold for a moment until he flips on a light switch. She hardly has time to register the shuriken-covered bedspread before he’s on her, his mouth devouring hers passionately. 

She tugs at the scarf looped around his neck and he hastily rips it off, throwing it to the side without ceremony before shrugging out of his coat and pulling off his shirt in one swift motion. She has a moment to shamelessly admire his sculpted chest before his hands are dragging the straps of her dress off her shoulders, tugging the flimsy fabric down, down, down to reveal her lithe figure clad in just the pair of lacy black panties. 

He groans at the sight of her topless and immediately ducks down to take a breast in his mouth. She had never thought herself particularly sensitive before, but as he flicks his hot tongue against her nipple, her head is dizzy with want and she has to grab onto his shoulders for balance, her fingers digging into his skin. 

His teeth, and oh she can feel the canines now, graze torturously against the edges of her nipple, occasionally sucking at the underside of her breast, certainly leaving marks. He switches his treatment to the other nipple while his hands wander all over her body, tweaking at the abandoned nub, squeezing at her ass, and making her achingly feverish with desire. 

Her own hands are busy unbuttoning his pants and pulling at his zipper, but her movements are fairly clumsy, and he quickly takes over to push his pants and boxers down in one go. She takes a moment to stare in appreciation at the impressive display jutting against his stomach, fully hard and reddened at the tip, and feels a rush of wetness soak through her panties. 

He smirks at her teasingly and she promptly pushes him onto the bed before straddling his hips, hands resting on his chest for balance and the thin layer of barely there lace the only thing separating her heat from his. 

One of his hands reaches around her neck to pull her mouth forward, meeting her in a dizzyingly hot exchange of kisses, and she has to double check that her henge is still intact with her mind so out of it. 

He feels absolutely exquisite against her and they’re both breathing heavily as his hands settle on her hips to guide her over him in a slow roll. She whimpers at the feeling and grinds against him through the fabric once more, rubbing her clit up and down against his pulsating length. 

She yelps as he swiftly reverses their positions in a flip and crawls over her with a cocky grin before his mouth meets hers once more. 

Her hands trace every inch of his body, and boy even for a former ANBU, he is a masterpiece. There’s no way he isn’t still taking missions on a semi-regular basis with his body in such good upkeep. His figure is delightfully lean, swathed in corded muscles and covered in old scars that must speak to his days in the black ops. His ANBU tattoo is a faded red against his pale skin, and one hand outlines the ink while the other moves to tangle itself in his hair, only to have his hand catch her wrist. 

She pulls away momentarily, a little confused and he chuckles lightly, “Sorry uh, not my hair. I have a bit of a thing.”

She nods slowly, a little uncertainty seeping through, and he must recognize it because he cups her face in his hands and kisses her so sweetly, in a way that might have been innocent if not for his fully nude form and his hard length pressing insistently into her barely covered core. One of his hands trails down the side of her chest, brushing tauntingly over the side of her breast before hooking in her panties. 

He looks up to catch her gaze questioningly once more as he tugs at the lacy fabric, “Can I take these off?”

She nods, lifting her hips from the mattress to allow him to drag them gently down before she gets impatient at the slow speed and yanks them the rest of the way off. His lips follow the curve of her neck, traveling downwards to suck on each pebbled nipple in turn, lavishing them with endless attention and gods she’s never been this wound up before. 

Her back arches off the bed and she almost instinctively reaches for his hair before redirecting her hands to grasp the bedsheets. She hears him mutter “thank you” against the skin of her abdomen, but before she can think anything else, his tongue is on her clit and all coherent thoughts escape her. 

“Fuck, Sukea,” she whimpers as he strokes at her clit expertly, the lewd sounds of him sucking and licking at her core making her feel like the star character of an Icha Icha novel. 

His hands dig into her thighs, pushing her legs open to make it easier access for him. While his tongue continues to plunder her clit, his right hand trails down to just barely brush against her opening. She nearly growls in dissatisfaction, trying to tilt her hips upwards to gain more friction, but he pulls himself away from her entirely as she glares at him with no lack of obvious frustration. 

“Uh-uh,” he reprimands in a taunting voice, “patience, Kaede-san, or I’ll have to tie you up.” 

She mentally thinks, ‘cocky bastard ’ followed immediately by, ‘that doesn’t sound half bad ’.

As if he can guess the direction of her thoughts, he grins at her toothily, adding on a “maybe next time” in a sinfully dark tone before ducking back down to suck harshly on the skin just over her hip bone. She whimpers needily while his mouth continues its assault, kissing and sucking everywhere on her body except for where she needs it most. He has her thrashing about in seconds, her fists clenched tightly in the sheets, and she can only whine out a shaky, “please” before he finally, finally brings a finger to swipe slowly across her lower lips. 

He groans appreciatively and murmurs out something that sounds like, “so, so wet for me” before his finger slips into her tight opening and she has to bite her lip to keep from screaming. He plunges in and out of her with single-minded focus, his long finger curving to hit just the right spot every time. 

She sucks on her lip to try and stifle the sounds rising in her throat when he sharply nips at her neck and mutters huskily, “Don’t hold back, I want to hear you”. 

He crashes their lips together once more and she moans as a second finger joins the first. 

His tongue replicates the vigorous thrusting motion of his fingers, completely and utterly dominating her, and it’s barely moments later after a particularly deep crook of his fingers when she wails as her mind erupts into white splotches. In her post-orgasmic bliss, she distantly registers that his head has moved back down when she feels the warmth of his tongue swipe across her opening, lapping at her hungrily with an approving hum. 

His head tilts up to look at her from where he’s poised between her legs and the sight of his tongue poking out from between his lips, his canines visible and her wetness smeared across his face is so hopelessly erotic that she feels a wave of arousal immediately wash over her once more. 

“Mahhh, like that did you?” he teases with a wry grin, and there’s something about his tone that strikes her as decidedly familiar, but all thought slips away from her when his tongue starts flicking at her still sensitive clit. 

“Oh, Kami,” she murmurs, feeling entirely out of sorts.

His hand gropes against her breast fervently, but his thumb swirls over her hardened nipple with a tormentingly light pressure that makes her yearn for more. She arches into his hand and he chuckles deeply at her eagerness, but relents, pinching and rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. When he brings his mouth up from her lower lips to meet her in a wet kiss, she nips on his bottom lip with added pressure before sucking on his tongue, coaxing out a deep groan from him as his cock twitches against her. 

Her hands hungrily trail across his chest before ghosting over his length and she hears the light curse that escapes him at even the faint touch. She wraps her hand around him a little more securely, and begins stroking him gently, while his head falls to rest on her collarbone, his elbow propping him up above her. 

He makes a strangled sound before pushing himself off of her and muttering, “Fuck, hang on.”

She’s puzzled for a moment until he reaches over to the bedside table and pulls out a condom. Their eyes are locked as he places the wrapper between his teeth and rips the packaging with his free hand. She feels another gush of wetness at the look and something even darker passes across his eyes. In this moment, she gets the sense that she is very much at his mercy, and absolutely relishes in the sensation. 

He rolls the condom on, his eyes briefly fluttering shut, before she tugs on his arm to bring him back in a heated kiss, her tongue tangling with his for a few moments before they break away for air.

He grins at her mischievously as he grips himself to line up with her entrance, dragging his tip up and down her lips teasingly, before slowly sinking into her without any further warning. The sensation is… somewhat uncomfortable at first, and she threads chakra through her body to relax herself, but after several moments of pressure, the overwhelming feeling of fullness overrides all else. As she glances up to see his eyes squeezed shut in concentration, his hair sweat-dampened, abdominal muscles taut and fists clenched, bracing himself on either side of her hips, all she can think is that this was an excellent way to end her evening. 

She feels him finally bottom out inside her and his eyes flit open, sweeping over her figure before his gaze meets hers once again. “Okay?” he pants out in a strained voice and she licks her lips at the tension in his jaw as he holds himself back for her sake. 

“Move, please,” she whines out breathlessly. 

“Gladly,” he mutters in a dark tone before pulling out slightly and ramming back into her with a strong thrust. She whimpers at the sensation as he sets an intentional pace of slow, deep thrusts that has her hands desperately twisting in the sheets almost fierce enough to rip them. Her hips buck up of their own accord to meet each of his movements and he hisses out her name. 

“Oh, fuck, Sukea, harder!”

He complies readily, and as she hooks her legs around his waist, he reaches one hand down to support her lower back so that he can drive into her at a deeper angle.

“Fuck… your pussy is so tight,” he groans disjointedly between thrusts. 

She moans when a particularly deep thrust hits her in the exact right place that has her practically seeing stars and he seems to catch on immediately, repeatedly driving into that same spot over and over. 

His hips are slamming into her at an increasingly demanding pace, and the sensation is so deliriously overwhelming that when one of his hands finds its way to her clit, the sudden onset of added pleasure from the tight circles he’s pressing across her bundle of nerves is enough to make her vision blur once more. 

“S-sukea,” she whimpers breathily. 

While one arm continues to brace himself, the other hand moves to squeeze together her breasts before he draws both of her nipples into his mouth simultaneously, kneading and sucking and licking almost ravenously. He releases one of the breasts with an obscene pop in order to nip at the underside of her flesh, his sharp teeth grazing against her skin in a pleasure-pain as his tongue drags wantonly against her distended nipples. 

The way he’s devouring her is almost feral and the sensory overload is enough to send her straight over the edge again, her eyes rolling back in sheer euphoria. As her back arches, he lets out a guttural growl that makes the hairs on her neck stand on end. She feels his movements become increasingly wild and sporadic as he fucks her through her orgasms like a man possessed and her hands release the sheets to grab onto his biceps, her nails scraping lightly down his skin. 

He curses loudly as she reflexively clenches around him before his hips begin jerking into her at an almost feverish speed. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna…” he chokes out brokenly, his pace becoming hopelessly frantic before he spills into her with a deep groan, his body trembling, and she feels every inch of tension seep out of her body.

He collapses onto her, his weight a heavy comfort as his nose buries itself in the junction of her neck and collarbone. His lips press cooly against her neck, and after a few moments, his cock softens inside of her and he pulls out, rolling over so they lay side by side on the bed. His hand traces idly up her thigh as they lay there, both breathing heavily. Sakura shuts her eyes for a few moments, but has to force her brain out of the pleasant lethargy to remind herself that she cannot fall asleep here and really should get back to her apartment.

With slight reluctance, she drags herself off of the bed before picking up her clothes and quickly dressing in the outfit she arrived in, positive that she looks an absolute mess. Her nipples are still hard, poking through the thin material of the dress and her panties are uncomfortably soaked from her arousal, not to mention the numerous bite marks littered around her neck and upper chest that aren’t hidden by the fabric.

She turns back towards the bed to the figure who is now sitting half-propped up on his elbows. His heated gaze seems to linger over each visible mark on her skin before dragging back up her form to meet her eyes. She’s not exactly sure what to say here– at least on a mission, there’s an end goal for each target, but as her first casual hookup experience, this part feels horrifically awkward. 

Sukea arches an eyebrow at her expectantly, and she smiles at him a little shyly, before saying, “I should go… I have an early morning tomorrow.”

He tilts his head to the side, humming lightly, as if recognizing the obviousness of the lie, but having the courtesy not to call her out on it. 

“I’ll walk you out,” he offers in an easy tone, pushing himself off the bed and pulling on a pair of boxers. 

He escorts her out of the bedroom, his hand lightly pressed to the small of her back as they walk through a narrow hallway and darkened kitchenette, pausing in front of the door. 

She flushes and bites her lip nervously, feeling entirely out of her element. Turning to exit, she quietly mutters, “Um, well thanks then.” 

Her hand is on the doorknob when abruptly, faster than she can register, she has been spun around and is once again pinned between his torso and the door. His arms are resting on either side of her head while he cages her… still mostly nude. 

She looks at him with confusion and he grins wider before bringing his lips down to meet hers, at first softly, and then once she responds, rather insistently. Her hands spread against his chest, savoring the way his muscles clench reflexively under her fingertips, and after a few seconds, he slips his tongue into her mouth, spending several delicious moments stroking his hot muscle against hers. 

His hand snakes up her neck to tangle firmly into her hair as the other is kept busy cupping her ass. His nails lightly scrape against her scalp while his tongue seems intent on retracing every inch of the area it has so thoroughly conquered that evening. Each motion is deliberate, but with an unhurried languidness that makes time feel suspended. She can feel his cock twitch against her core through the thin barrier of their clothes and the heat sends a bolt of arousal through her worn out body. 

Their lips part as he draws back, a thin line of saliva stretching momentarily between their mouths from the wetness of the kiss, before his head slants back to regard her with a roguish smile. His thumb reaches up to drag across her kiss-swollen lips before trailing downward to hold her chin securely. His head tilts as he pecks her once more on the corner of her mouth before reaching over her shoulder to twist the doorknob behind her. 

He pushes the door open before retorting in a teasing tone, “Well thanks then.”

She shakes her head slightly, unable to hold back the grin but trying to hold back the incredulous laugh bubbling up in her throat at the bizarre combination of sexy, bashful and playful characteristics that this man manages to exude. 

She leans forward, convinced to have the last word so to speak, as she kisses him gently, directly over his beauty mark, mumbling an improbable, “see you around,” as she disappears out the door.

Safely back in her apartment, she releases her henge, strips off her clothes, and cranks the shower to full blast. Her pink strands are tied up and out of the way in a messy bun before she moves to stand under the hot steam. She hums lightly to herself as she sudses up with her rose-scented soap, but even after her skin has been thoroughly lathered in the perfumy body wash, she can still smell the heady scent of sex lingering on her skin. 

Once she’s rinsed off, she wraps herself loosely in a fluffy green towel. As she walks past the foggy bathroom mirror, wiping a small circle in the glass to evaluate her image, she turns from side to side, studying the bite marks that are scattered across her skin, and all she can think is a satisfied, ‘job well done’.

—

Sukea closes the door behind her and shuffles over to the bathroom where he delicately removes the contacts from his eyes and plops them into their solution before blinking a few times to readjust. After carefully wiping away the purple makeup and peeling off the stickers, he tugs the brown wig off and drops it onto the counter, turning on the faucet to splash some cold water on his face. He runs a hand through his matted down silver hair a few times idly to return it to its naturally unruly state. Then, with a sigh, Kakashi leans against the sink and stares at his reflection in the mirror. 

“Well that was unexpected.”

Chapter Text

Sakura POV

2 days after Kaede meets Sukea, ANBU Agent Owl heads off on her first seduction mission. She’s the one running point on this assignment, with Yugao being sent along in case backup is needed. The target is an illegal weapons dealer that’s been selling low-grade, intentionally defective weaponry to some of the smaller towns within the Land of Fire. He’s always well-armed and surrounded by guards, but his proclivity for nightclubs offers the perfect opportunity to catch him unawares.

The club is jam-packed with sweaty bodies swaying to the music and throwing back drinks. In a newly nondescript appearance with lush, raven hair and a slinky red dress, Sakura’s able to quickly attract his attention under the cover of the darkened room and flashing neon lights. Her lips are coated in a custom-made, delayed response neurotoxin. It’s all too easy to lure him in with a demure batting of her eyelashes and plant a flirty kiss on his lips before vanishing into the crowd. 

It’s practically textbook. None of his guards react whatsoever, and 8 hours later, the target collapses in his room from an apparent stroke. 

Once it’s all over, she drops the temporary henge, returning to “Kaede’s” red hair and gray eyes. Yugao claps her on the back and takes her out to the shinobi bar in Konoha for a celebratory drink. The accomplishment of an easy mission without anything going off-script feels almost wrong after the trainwreck scenarios that Team Seven often encountered. 

—

They’re now heading back from another seduction mission and it’s Sakura’s third of its kind since joining ANBU. After doing a couple of them, she’s determined that the missions aren’t nearly as bad as she was expecting. With her skills in genjutsu and her knowledge of poisons, she’s never had to do anything more than flirt with and kiss her targets on occasion. She’s been groped, which was revolting, but knocking out the prick at the end of the night helped immensely. 

It was easier too, that Yugao was always with her on these types of missions. The purple haired kenjutsu mistress was fiercely protective and had become somewhat of a sisterly figure for her, always insisting that they did something fun later on to help put any lingering nastiness out of her mind. 

She’s still happy about her decision to ensure that her first time wouldn’t be with some random sleeze though. She had felt more comfortable using her body afterwards, and now at least, it’s not hanging over her head as a possibility. 

Plus, well, who could possibly regret a night like that? 

[If she has any regrets at all, it’s that she had decided on a whim not to heal all of the marks that Sukea had left on her body. Unfortunately, she had accidentally missed a rather visible one near the back of her neck when she showed up for her pre-mission briefing. Genma had taken one look at the bite marks poking out from under her collar and promptly descended into cackles while Yugao gave her a shit-eating grin and waggled her eyebrows suggestively. Sakura / Kaede had rolled her eyes and tried to prevent the embarrassed blush from crawling across her face, but they continued to give her endless trouble about the whole thing until she threatened to poison their coffees. That seemed to shut them up.]

It’s been a month since she’s seen Sukea, and while part of her is tempted to seek him out for a repeat performance (she does technically know where he lives despite how creepy it would be to just show up), the other part of her feels a little on the fence about having sex with someone while in disguise. With a one night stand, it doesn’t seem that objectionable in her mind, but if it happened more than once, she would feel guilty about lying. 

Everyone in ANBU only knows her while in disguise, so getting comfortable with deception isn’t exactly unfamiliar territory, but still… 

Her henged appearance during all ANBU-related interactions was a stipulation that Tsunade had required when Sakura joined the black ops group. 

Since the most distinctive part of her appearance is her hair and eye color, all she really needed to do was adjust those two things. The smaller the change, the easier the henge is to maintain, so just by darkening her hair from pink to red and altering her eye color, she created a new persona with minimal effort. 

It was important to Tsunade that her identity be kept tightly under wraps when she joined, mostly because, well… no one likes to think of their hospital medic as a murderer-for-hire. 

She’s pretty sure that her ANBU squad is at least semi-aware that her identity is made up, but they don’t seem to mind, a fact which she’s grateful for. She’s still herself around them, even if she doesn’t look like it, and they seem to accept that her looks are altered for a reason. After all, shinobi are paranoid folk.

Even so, having to keep up the henge does come in handy. For one, the fact that it requires immaculate control to maintain the illusion is a profoundly useful chakra exercise. Everyone in ANBU can keep up a henge for a short mission, but not many can support it consistently for any type of long term infiltration. The more she practices, the easier it gets. It’s part of what makes her such a good agent; she can swap out her ‘usual’ henge for something else when needed, and no one is the wiser. 

—

After they’ve reported to headquarters on their latest assignment, Yugao insists on dragging them to The Rusty Kunai as per usual. 

They both change into casual clothes at ANBU HQ before they head out to the bar. It turns out, the purple haired ANBU invited her former team as well, a group which happened to include a few familiar faces. 

She wonders how she never realized that Kakashi and Yamato were on Yugao’s previous team. 

To be honest, she hasn’t seen much of the former Team Seven / Team Kakashi lately. ANBU has kept her hands full with conditioning, training, and then almost weekly missions to get her acclimated to their standard protocols. And this was in addition to work at the hospital.

But it’s not like everyone else hasn’t been busy either. Naruto’s been working towards his jounin status, Sasuke was off on some ambiguous self-searching adventure, and rumor has it that Kakashi was being groomed to take over as Hokage soon. Sai and Yamato are in ANBU as well, though she hasn’t had the opportunity to run missions with either of them yet. Not that they would know it’s her.

She brushes her red strands out of her face as she heads towards the group’s booth. When she sits down, Kakashi’s eyes sweep over her figure, scrutinizing intently while giving a lazy outward appearance. His sharingan was taken during the war, but Naruto’s unfathomable Sage-like powers had granted him a matching set of charcoal orbs that she’s still not used to seeing. Without the need to cover his eye anymore, Kakashi’s hitai-tae is pushed up higher, framing the silver strands that stick up in his usual gravity-defying style, with small tufts poking out behind his ears. The scar, no longer offset with the two-toned swirling of the sharingan, looks more roguish than imposing now, bisecting the left eye and disappearing under the fabric of his mask. Distractedly, she wonders how far down the scar goes.

Kakashi looks at her straight on, a dark look settling in his eyes as he pours her a glass of sake. His eyes crinkle in a smile as he pushes the glass towards her, but there’s a calculating gleam behind that half-lidded gaze that she’s only seen in battle. It reminds her vaguely of a wolf chasing down its prey, its teeth sharp and hidden, and she wonders how she never saw this side of him before. He’s never looked at her like this, and yes this isn’t her her, but it’s a little unnerving to have his attention all the same. 

They exchange introductions and he keeps the liquor flowing attentively, his normal slouchy posture seeming straighter than usual. If she didn’t know better, she might have thought he was coming on to her. But this is Hatake Kakashi, recluse extraordinaire. She’s obviously mistaken. 

He makes small talk for a while before ending up, predictably, with his nose buried in Icha Icha. 

The rest of the group settles in comfortably, exchanging stories and seizing the opportunity to get laughably tipsy.

Meanwhile, over in his corner of the booth, Kakashi’s glass of sake continues to magically empty every so often without exposing so much as a sliver of his lower face, much to Sakura’s chagrin. From the glimmer of amusement in his eye, he seems to find her disappointment funny, the smug bastard. 

Yamato drunkenly rambles on about how everyone keeps asking him to make them furniture, his words getting progressively more and more slurred as the evening continues. (She makes a mental note to get him drunk more often.) Yugao is nodding along consolingly, but Sakura knows that there’s an imminent possibility of her breaking out in laughter along with Genma at the wood-user’s antics. 

She’s draining the last of her glass when she hears the tinkle of the bell at the bar’s entrance and glances up to see… 

Purple makeup and a devilish smile.

Kakashi POV 

Going out as Sukea isn’t a common occurrence for Kakashi. He has only donned the disguise a handful of times when he really wants to avoid people (typically Gai) without having to actively evade search efforts. When he headed out to the civilian bar a month ago as Sukea, he certainly didn't anticipate spending the night with a fiery redhead in his bed.

He did feel a little bad at first for picking up someone while in disguise, though thinking back, it was more like she had picked him up. In any case, any guilt he felt immediately dissipated at the realization that an almost identical situation happened in one of the Icha Icha novels. 

The redhead was something he definitely hadn’t expected when he left his apartment that day, but it was a more than pleasant surprise. She was confident and sexy, and for some inexplicable reason, he felt comfortable letting loose around her, more than he usually does for a one night stand. She was just so responsive to everything he did, and he wouldn’t mind seeing her again, although the idea seemed unlikely. He knew her name, her first name anyways, and she was probably a ninja from her muscle tone and her lack of reaction to his shunshin, but he’d never seen this woman around before. The idea of not getting to explore some other things with her in the bedroom was… disappointing, but he wasn’t overly hung up about it. 

Well, that is, until he did see her again. 

He’s not at all surprised to confirm that the redhead from last month is a shinobi, but he is relatively taken aback when she shows up at the bar and is introduced as part of Yugao’s current ANBU team.

Now that she’s here, sitting in front of him, a repeat of their last encounter seems like too good of a chance to pass up on. 

He flirts with her in the most minimal way possible, just to test the waters as Kakashi, but she seems fairly… cautious towards him. She’s friendly enough but it’s nothing compared to how openly she interacted with Sukea. It seems weird, and he feels a small blow to his self-esteem, but backs off regardless. 

Even though she’s somewhat reserved with him, she does still try to sneak a peek behind the mask. He briefly considers letting her, just to see if she would connect the dots, but there are so many people around, and he doesn’t really want to gauge her reaction in public.

He slips away from the booth to head to the restroom, deciding that maybe he could make a repeat appearance as Sukea. Was that unethical? It hadn’t been a deliberate decision to try and hide his identity from her the first time they met. It was just that, by the time they had made it back to his apartment, he assumed that it would have been weird if he had just yanked off the wig and been like, ‘Sorry I was in disguise?’

It sounds creepy when he just imagines it in his head. She probably would’ve taken off for the hills. 

But… he will tell her tonight. Not telling her the second time would be intentional. 

If she wants to go home with him again that is.

When he goes to the bathroom, he slips out the bar’s rear exit and sends a shadow clone back to the booth in his place. He flickers to his apartment and quickly swaps out his usual jounin attire for his standard “Sukea” pants and roots around in his closet until he finds a dark green sweater. He tosses on the wig and pops in his contacts, eyes watering momentarily at the brief sting. Carefully, he lines up the purple strips to cover his scar and cheeks before dusting his eyelids with the purple makeup to match. He briefly glances around the apartment for any obvious clutter, then remembers that he’s practically a hermit and has few personal items in the first place. He shrugs and heads back to the bar.

—

He walks through the entrance of the bar, a jolt of satisfaction rushing through him when he catches Kaede’s eye. He glances at her briefly before moving to take a seat at the counter and getting a whiskey for himself. After a split second of hesitation, he orders a bottle of high-end sake to be sent to Kaede’s table. 

He watches out of the corner of his eye as one of the bartenders brings the bottle over to her. She says something too quiet for him to hear, eyebrows pinched slightly in confusion. The bartender gestures vaguely in Sukea’s direction and Yugao nudges Kaede with a knowing smirk.

Kaede flushes a pretty pink, but shakes her head lightly and he feels his stomach drop. 

‘This was a bad idea.’ 

He sips on his whiskey, feeling dumber by the minute and wanting to just finish his drink and leave. He wasn’t sure why he was getting so worked up about this. She hadn’t expressed explicit interest after last time at the idea of seeing him again, why did he just assume she would be happy? Perhaps the sting of being rejected twice in the same evening, both as Kakashi and Sukea, was a little too much for his ego to take. 

Determining that he’s being a bit childish about the whole thing, he decides he might as well relax and enjoy his drink before going home. Several minutes pass as he taps his fingers absently on the countertop while swirling his drink with his other hand. 

Indirectly, he notices that his "Kakashi" clone is filling up his own glass from the bottle he sent for Kaede, and he barely represses the urge to scoff. Even his clones were freeloaders it seems.

He exhales with slight exasperation, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. When he breathes in again, there’s a familiar, rosy scent in the air, and a curtain of red hair is leaning against the bar counter, watching him with an unreadable expression. 

“Mind if I join you?” she asks in a soft voice, motioning towards the empty stool to his right. 

He blinks twice before realizing that she’s still standing there staring at him.

“Not at all,” he responds after a moment’s pause, his mouth twitching upwards into a smile. 

She settles on the seat and remarks in a lilting tone, “I’m a little surprised to see you here, Sukea-san.” 

(She’s… teasing him? She’s teasing him.) He’s not sure what to make of it. There was a clear wall up in her interactions with Kakashi, and it’s mostly absent now, but there’s still… a tentativeness about her that wasn’t there the first time they met. 

He decides a little bluntness may help him figure out where they stand.

“On the contrary, Kaede-san, I’m a little surprised to see you here.” He gestures with his head towards the booth she had been sitting at, “It looks like your friends are missing you.”

(In actuality, Yugao and Genma are cackling up a riot, Yamato is practically incoherent, and “Kakashi” is still absorbed in his book.)

Kaede laughs, the sound warm and bright, and runs a hand through her hair in what seems like a nervous habit.

“Ah, well. It’s only polite to say thank you when someone buys you a drink, isn’t it?” She smiles at him slyly, a twinkle in her eye, and he has a moment where he thinks ‘that’s how she got me the first time.’

“I see… Is that what you’re doing then? Saying thank you?” he asks in a slow, slightly unsure tone. 

She grins widely at him, “Yes, thank you, Sukea-san.” 

He hums, sipping on his drink and smiling smugly when he notices that her eyes are fixated on the movements of his mouth. He sets the glass down gently before brushing a rogue droplet of moisture from his lip with his thumb. He sucks on the pad lightly, watching with satisfaction as her gaze instantly darkens. 

His voice lowers to a deeper tone, “Would you like another drink, Kaede-san?” 

Her head slants slightly as if in consideration. Lip curling upwards, she reaches over to smoothly grasp his glass. She takes a small sip, looking a little self-satisfied when his eyebrows shoot into his hairline at the bold gesture. He watches her tongue dart out to lick her lips, his finger twitching as his eyes burn into hers.

Placing the glass back down in front of him, she probes in an equally hushed, though no less seductive tone, “Is that all you’re offering?”.

The question catches him a little off guard with its vying brashness and ambiguity. It feels like they’re skirting around the edge of the matter, and he still isn’t sure what she wants from him. 

He takes a moment to study her, remembering from his brief conversation as Kakashi that she had just come back from a mission, most likely tired and drained from it all. But she’s here, she’s leaning towards him… ‘that’s good, right?’

“Do you, ah… want me to offer more?” he asks in a quietly intense voice, eyes flicking up to catch hers.

The look in her striking gray eyes is friendly, sincere, assessing. She glances back down at the bartop, finger tracing circles against the wood grain of the surface. It’s several seconds before she meets his gaze, elbow on the counter and cheek resting on her open palm. 

She smiles, replying lightly, as if admitting to a silly confession: “I suppose that I’m curious. About you still.” 

His eyes widen imperceptibly, but before he has the chance to respond, she adds in a more inquisitive tone, “Are you… curious about me?” 

Her head tilts to the side with the question and all he can focus on is the expanse of smooth pale skin revealed by the motion and how much he desperately wants to taste it once more. 

He reaches forward to idly twirl a loose red strand around his finger, eyes fixed resolutely on hers, “I am.” 

She grins at him, and it’s a bold thing, eyes dancing with obvious interest and no hint of shyness. 

He seizes the moment, voice dropping to little more than a husky purr, “Do you want to get out of here?”

—

They’re out of the bar within minutes, Sukea chuckling wryly when Kaede holds the door open for him, a cheeky expression on her face. 

“And they say chivalry is dead…” he drawls with a grin. 

“Mhm,” she replies affirmingly, her expression schooled in mock seriousness. “I’m nothing if not a gentleman.”

He barks out a short laugh, decidedly un-Sukea of him, and internally starts to sweat a bit at how best to proceed. 

They’re just standing outside of the bar, and he’s not sure if she’s waiting for him to flash them back to his apartment, or to hers, or what’s going on at all. He’s more than a little nervous and altogether unsure when the right time would be to broach the topic of his real identity. Is it better to wait until they get to his apartment? Or should he just get it over with now? Though he’d rather wait until they’re somewhere more private than out on the street…

Her voice interrupts his tumultuous musings: “Mind if we walk to your place? Shunshins always make me nauseous when I’ve had a bit to drink”. 

“No problem,” he smiles widely, starting to head down the street and then furrows his brows at the implication. “We don’t have to do anything if you’re…”

She waves her hand dismissively, “Ah no, I can burn the alcohol out of my system with medical ninjutsu, it just takes a few minutes.”

His mouth tugs to the side in a crooked smirk. “That’s a useful trick,” he responds approvingly, vaguely wondering if she would teach it to him. 

“Well not all of us can get away with drinking like Ts– like the Hokage.”

He chuckles lightly, “Don’t let her hear you say that.”

“Oh I won’t.” She shoots him an answering grin. “I actually picked up the idea from her though. I realized that despite her almost constant sake consumption, whenever she has an impromptu meeting she miraculously becomes mostly sober.”

He taps his chin thoughtfully, realizing she’s certainly right but curious about how much time she must spend around the Hokage to have picked up on that. 

“Hmm… I’ll have to keep an eye out for that.” 

They continue walking in silence for a few moments, but it’s a comfortable quiet, and the night air is refreshingly cool against his bare face. He never walks around openly like this without his mask unless it’s as Sukea, and even that isn’t a common thing for him. The breeze feels pleasant and tingly against his skin, and he wets his lips when he becomes aware of how dry they are from the wind exposure. 

His clone dispels outside of the bar, a quick influx of memories accompanying the action, mostly of Tenzo’s increasingly unbridled rants. 

His brain is telling him to just rip off the bandaid and drop the whole ‘Sukea not being Sukea’ bomb, but he chickens out and ends up pedaling backwards to clarify something.

“So, you’re in ANBU? I didn’t notice your tattoo uh…” he coughs a little awkwardly, “last time.”

“I am,” she begins slowly, and the way she hesitates makes it clear that there’s more to the story. 

“Do you often keep it concealed?” 

“At civilian bars, yes.” She shoots him a sassy smirk that looks rakishly alluring under the faint moonlight. There’s a twinkle of something in her eye (amusement, annoyance? He can’t quite get a read on her which is mildly irritating) as she continues, “Most guys either get scared away by it or take it as an insult to their ‘manly egos’ and insist on proving that they’re stronger than me.”

He huffs, shaking his head ruefully, “That’s absolutely ridiculous.” 

—

They walk up the steps of his building, slowing to a halt in front of his apartment door and he’s psyching himself up to just ‘tell her already’ when her hand lightly touches his elbow. He turns to face her while she nervously fiddles with her fingers, “I feel like I need to tell you, um…”

His brow arches, but he waits patiently for her to find the words she’s looking for. 

“My ANBU appearance, this, it’s not…” she rubs her temples and lets out a frustrated sounding sigh. “This is a henge and my identity is classified. I can’t tell you more or why, but it feels wrong to hide that from you.”

He’s slightly taken aback at having the tables flipped and all he manages to say is a strangled sounding, “oh…” as he tries to sort through it in his head.

His first reaction is overwhelming relief, and then his mind starts trying to figure out whose identity would require such strict secrecy. ‘Does he know them?’ 

She must take his silence as a bad thing though because she starts speaking hastily, “I understand if that’s too weird, and I should’ve told you sooner. Sorry about–”

She turns to walk away, but he quickly grabs her hand and tugs her back, cutting her off mid-way through her sentence. 

“It’s not too weird, um…actually…” he drops her hand and scratches the back of his neck nervously even though he feels significantly lighter about his confession after hearing hers. “I was going to tell you that, well… this is a wig and,” he waves his hand vaguely at his face, “makeup that I use when I want a little anonymity.”

There’s a few moments while she quietly processes and the only sounds are the background noises of people in the neighboring apartments. 

When she breaks the silence, he’s not sure what reaction he expects, but it isn’t laughter. 

“That’s pretty quirky, Sukea.” She clutches her stomach as she breaks out into a fit of giggles. “So when you said you were ‘avoiding friends’ when we met, it was because you had literally put on a disguise to hide from people?”

He’s still moderately befuddled at everything, “Uh… yes?”

She stifles her snickers behind her fist, “Sorry, sorry. That’s amazing, honestly.” 

Her expression turns sympathetic, although amusement is still clearly etched across her face, “You must have some persistent friends.”

An image of green spandex pops into his head and he shudders despite himself. Gai had almost caught “Sukea” years ago when he had given Team Seven the run-around to force them to work on their teamwork. That time had been close, too close, but he ended up getting away with it. The disguise had never failed him since. 

“You could say that,” he settles on in response. He waits a moment and then reaches a hand towards the wig, “So, do you want me to…?”

“No!” she blurts out a little loudly. A slight flush colors her cheeks. “I mean, it’s better this way. Now we’re on even ground – I don’t know who you are and you don’t know me. No problem right?”

He nods slowly, internally screaming at the increasing resemblance to an Icha Icha plotline. 

“And this is your apartment?” she clarifies.

Another slow nod.

She steps on her tip toes, balancing with a hand against his chest as she kisses him squarely on the cheek, “Are you going to invite me in?”

He almost stumbles in his haste to unlock the door. 

—

They enter the apartment and he’s quick to spin her around, caging her against the closed door in a mimicry of the way they parted last time. He tilts his head down and brushes his lips against hers in a barely-there kiss, enjoying the little whine she makes when he pulls back. He quite likes the feeling of towering over her and the way he can feel the contours of her lithe figure when she’s pressed against him like this.

“This is a thing of yours then, huh?” she teases in a light-hearted voice, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

He gives a faux scowl, biting her lip sharply in retaliation for the jab. His hands cup her ass firmly as he scoops her up, blessing whoever invented the skin-tight jeans she was wearing, before slamming her back against the door with enough force that the frame quivers. Her shoes are kicked off, making a clacking sound when they hit the floorboards as she hooks her legs securely around his middle. 

Greedily, he squeezes her ass while he grinds into her, his tongue slipping insistently between the seam of her lips to openly explore her mouth. Her hands frisk under his sweater, pushing the fabric up so that her fingers can trace over his abdominal muscles. He’s already half-hard as he rolls against her, feeling the heat from her core seeping through the layers and savoring the strangely sweet combination of strawberries and sake on her tongue. 

“Eager?” she quips in a mocking tone, though she herself is obviously flushed, breathless and thoroughly worked-up. He could smell the faint scent of her arousal ever since the bar and the intoxicating fragrance had only heightened since. 

“Brat,” he growls out, pinching her ass and hastily slipping out of his own shoes. 

His arms wrap around her tightly, her curves molding themselves against his lean musculature as he lifts her from the door and carries her effortlessly to the bedroom. She’s nibbling playfully on his lips, neck, wherever she can reach, but there’s a gentleness as she cups the back of his head, mindful of the hair which he can’t help grinning at. He has never, not once, done this sort of thing as Sukea. On top of that, there’s the added thrill of having someone know that Sukea is a made up persona and yet not being intent on figuring it out. It feels like a daring type of role play.

Turning around, he pushes open the bedroom door with his back and she squeaks in surprise when he half-drops, half-throws her onto his mattress. 

“Su–” 

He snatches her ankle and drags her to the edge of the bed before his hands immediately seek out her waistline, proceeds to undo her pants’ button and zipper with deft speed. There’s a sense of urgency in his movements that he doesn’t quite understand. This is certainly nowhere near the longest he’s gone without sex, yet he feels the staggering need to touch her, taste her. He gives a harsh tug on her jeans and pulls them down, leg by leg until her toned calves are bare for him. 

His mouth begins to water as he reaches for her panties, a silky red pair this time that matches the color of her hair – nice – and pulls them down quickly until she’s bare for him. He feels a little light-headed when the potent scent of her arousal intensifies without the cloth barrier.

Without pause, he grabs the hem of her shirt, half-tempted to rip the damn thing in half, but able to maintain his composure enough to slip it off over her head. He licks his lips at the sight of her creamy breasts peeking out of a black bra with a floral pattern. There’s a silver clasp in the front and he fiddles with it frustratedly, half-snarling at the damn thing until she brushes away his hands. She swiftly twists the clasp, sliding it up and to the side in a way that seems completely nonsensical. 

He stops his internal protests of the bra’s dubious functionality when her breasts bounce free of the restraints, immediately exposing those perky pink nipples that have been on his mind for weeks now.

“Gods you look delicious,” he rumbles in a deep voice, his body vibrating with anticipation.

He’s sure that his stare is on the cusp of predatory as he drinks in the impressively toned muscles juxtaposed with her fair skin and the delicateness of her features that he can’t get enough of. She seems to get suddenly bashful of her own nudity compared to his still fully clothed state and he sets out to rectify the situation in a flash. His sweater comes off in one fluid motion before he tugs his pants down, making the fact that he had gone commando this particular day obvious. Judging from her glazed expression and the way she’s sucking on her bottom lip as she scrutinizes his form, she seems to like that not-so-little fact. 

She props herself up on her elbows to get a better look at him, her eyes hazy and heavy-lidded. “Come here,” she murmurs in a low, sultry tone, a hint of edginess in the demand.

The corner of his mouth curves upwards as he crawls over her, drawling a muffled, “yes ma’am,” into her chest as he presses hungry kisses all over. His tongue lightly tastes the skin at her neck before his lips shift up to meet hers once more. Her mouth is scorching and sweet, sparking a primal want, the electric sensation amplified as her nails rake down his back with just the right amount of pressure to be on the stimulating edge of pain. 

He groans approvingly into her mouth, her tongue stroking his passionately as his hands wander over her curves. His lips begin to trail south, his hands insistent on touching and tracing every inch of her.

“If I remember correctly…” he murmurs against her skin as his mouth works its way down her flushed figure, “last time,” his hands massage her thighs as he nips at her hip bone, “you seemed to like,” his hands start to shift towards her center, “the idea,” he sucks on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, “of being tied up.” 

She whines needily and its music to his ears as his thumbs slip down to spread her open. He grins at the little “ah-ah-ah” sounds she makes as his breath puffs in hot shallow pants directly over her core. She’s glistening, absolutely dripping after only a little teasing that he can’t help the rush of smug pride that follows. He inhales the heady scent, trembling slightly at the overwhelming lust with which it fuels him. 

“Is that…” he drags his tongue slow and languorously up her slit, making her twitch and whimper under him, “something you still want to try?” His voice is low, barely rising in inflection at the end of the question as his eyes dart up to catch her gaze. 

“Fuck yes,” she exhales in a breathless tone.

A grin spreads across his face, and he presses a fluttering kiss to her bundle of nerves before pushing himself off the bed to rifle through his dresser drawers. (‘Uniform, uniform, uniform – ah!’)

He spins around triumphantly, holding a navy tie that Genma gave him for his birthday a few years ago that he’s never worn before. Though, he thinks absently, his friend would probably be pleased with how he’s putting it to use now. 

He arches an eyebrow in question, “Does this work?”

She bites her bottom lip and gives a small nod, looking so arousingly demure on his bed with her flushed cheeks, mussed hair, and perfectly pointy tits that he wishes he still had the sharingan to save the image for later perusal. 

His smile widens as he approaches the bedside, clambering over her as she brings her hands above her head to rest against the headboard. He’s trying to figure out the best way to secure her when–

“Fuck,” he hisses out the curse between his teeth.

His eyes dart down to see her licking the tip of his swollen cock, looking up at him with an innocent expression that fails on every level. 

“Fuck, I’m trying to...”

His hand clenches onto the headboard for support as she swirls her tongue around his tip in a slow circle before taking him fully into her mouth. Her tongue drags along the underside of his length, trailing from base to tip, and gods, her mouth is so damn hot as she swallows around him that he can’t resist the urge to thrust, just a little. She hums around him eagerly, lips tightly encircling his shaft and he groans at the sound. His grip is clenching the bed frame so tightly that he’s vaguely concerned about the wood splintering. 

“Fucking hell,” he inhales sharply as she teases his balls with her wicked tongue. 

She lets him slip out of her mouth and then looks up at him with a sneaky grin, “I just wanted to know how you taste.”

He ducks down to crash their lips together, one hand holding himself steady as his tongue sweeps into her mouth, tasting the sweetness he’s come to associate solely with her as it mingles with the subtle taste of himself on her tongue. She sucks his lower lip into her mouth, prying a strangled sounding moan from his throat. He breaks away panting, pressing his temple against hers for a moment while he regroups.

He pins her hands against the headboard once more, one hand able to easily engulf her slender wrists.

“Stay still this time,” he rasps in a dark tone. He wraps the tie securely around her wrists, before binding her to the top rail of the headboard with a single column knot. He pulls on the fabric, checking the tension, and turns back to her. 

“Is this comfortable?”

“Yeah.” She shoots him a cocky grin, “I can get out if I need to.” 

The rich blue of the tie’s silky fabric contrasts strikingly against her pale skin and vivid hair. He leans down to meet her for another kiss, his fingertips trailing up and down her sides with a feathering touch, delighting in the shiver that breaks out across her skin. His thumb just barely ghosts small circles over her nipples and they immediately start to harden before he breaks away. She whines in protest, but he’s too busy studying her. He shifts to the edge of the bed, his throat dry as he wraps his hands firmly around her ankles, slowly opening her legs so that they’re pushed to the edges of the mattress. 

“I want… to restrain your legs too.” He glances back up at her, “Would that be okay?”

She licks her lips and his eyes are riveted to the sight of wet pink on pink, “Yes please.”

He flashes to the living room (he’s really not sure how long he’s going to last when he’s already this wound up) to hunt down his scarves, returning in a brief moment with his classic Sukea tan scarf in one hand and another, bright green one with kunai printed on it that Gai had gotten him as a prize for winning their last contest. 

“Don’t ask,” he mumbles, cheeks tinged with pink, when he seeks her grinning at the weapon patterned scarf.

Her smile widens and she arches her eyebrows teasingly, yet refrains from commenting (thankfully). 

He quickly straps her ankles down to the bed posts at the end of the frame using the same style of knot as earlier. His palms skim up her legs, his thumbs trailing along her smooth inner thighs, and he can’t help but stare at the vision she makes, all spread out for him, “You’re utterly gorgeous.”

She blushes and opens her mouth, but his lips rush to press against hers, swallowing anything else she was going to say. He straddles her hips, his cock pressing against her stomach as he leans down to keep their lips together. One hand is pushing against the headboard while the other starts kneading her breast indulgently. 

She whimpers and whines every time his thumb brushes against her nipple, the darkened bud just beginning to peak. He starts to pick up the pace, keeping the pressure light as he repeatedly flicks her right nipple until it’s firmly pebbled. His mouth moves down to imitate the motion on her other nipple with his tongue, and she starts writhing under him.

His teeth gently circle the distended nipple, his eyes glancing up to catch her reaction before he latches on and sucks. Her eyes roll back with a moan, eyebrows tightly pinched and her back bowing beautifully as her wrists strain against the bindings. 

“So damn sensitive,” he mumbles against her breast as his lips drag across her skin. 

“Sukea,” she whimpers his name pleadingly.

“So fucking hot,” he breathes in a husky tone as he bites down on the skin above the nipple, sucking until he’s confident it will leave a mark, his hand still mercilessly teasing the other breast with delicate touches. 

“I wonder… if I could make you orgasm without even touching your clit,” he whispers darkly, lips grazing over the shell of her ear, entirely gratified when her breathing hitches abruptly.

His erection is getting painful at this point though, so as much as he’d like to continue at the exploratory pace, he needs to speed this up a bit. A shiver crawls down his spine under the intensity of her gaze, and he wants nothing more than to slam into her tight little pussy and feel the way she clenches around him, but he can wait. He can wait just a little longer. 

He shifts himself to the left side of her body to get more comfortable, hovering over her at an angle as his hand inches down from her chest to her abdomen, relishing the little shivers that wrack her body. His fingertips slow down as they ghost over her hip bone.

She whimpers when he runs his middle finger down her pussy to tease at her entrance, growling at how thoroughly soaked she is. His hand shifts to fully cup her core, his palm pressing on her clit while his slender fingers span the length of her slit, making slow circles in the wetness pooling around her lower lips. 

“You’re drenched Kaede-san,” he croons in a low, throaty voice, an approving purr rumbling in his chest.

“I– ngh,” she shudders as his index finger easily slips into her entrance, curling each time he enters. He adds another finger after a moment, continuing the motion while his thumb applies a light pressure intermittently against her clit. But he keeps the pace slow – tauntingly, torturously slow. Her toes curl, ankles rolling relentlessly as they flex under the knots of the scarves.

“Faster,” she whines in a demanding, needy voice. 

He grins, reaching his other hand up to tweak her nipple between his fingers once more, still not speeding up at all. If anything, he draws out the movements of the hand thrusting into her, although he crooks his fingers to hit deeper.

“Not yet, Kaede-san,” he murmurs in a dark voice, his left hand lightly flicking at her nipple as he had earlier. She starts squirming, trying to force his fingers deeper, but he doesn’t allow it, not yet. He wants to see what it looks like when she loses control. 

He pulls back a little, not letting her get more than he’s giving for now and she makes a sound like a snarl. 

“Something the matter?” he poses in an innocent voice, his fingers now moving even more agonizingly slow. Her cheeks are turning red, whether from arousal or anger he’s not sure, but it looks good on her.

She makes a frustrated sound in the back of her throat, otherwise keeping her lips pressed tightly shut. He tuts. That simply won’t do. He wants her to beg for it this time. Until now, she’s taken what she wants with him, and yes it’s insanely sexy, but he’s finding that it’s also wildly satisfying to have her completely at his whims. 

He watches the shock flit across her face as he removes his fingers entirely, unsuccessfully fighting the urge to grin at her pissed off expression.

He keeps lightly circling her clit with his thumb, knowing it isn’t nearly enough of what she wants. Her jaw is tightly clenched and her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration as he continues the slow movements, dipping down every once in a while to just barely slip his finger into her before ducking back out. Each time, she immediately tries to clamp down on him, as if to prevent him from leaving again. 

The third time he teases her, she glares at him vindictively as if to intimidate him, yet the look does nothing except make him more aroused, more eager to watch her submit. 

Staring her down with an arrogant smirk, he arches an eyebrow as if to say, ‘try me’ while she purses her lips. The heel of his palm pushes against her clit and starts rubbing idle circles, his face smug as he watches her cheeks turn brighter shades of red. 

“Fuck!” she starts swearing in sheer frustration, wrists jerking against the ties and muscles flexing agitatedly. She bites her lip with obvious distress, eyebrows pinching together as she pins him with a heated gaze. 

“Please,” she begs in a desperate, almost pitiful tone, “please Sukea, I need more.”

He grins wolfishly, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he slowly drags two fingers down her slit and circles teasingly around the edge of her entrance. “Of course, why didn’t you say so?”

Her face contorts in what is certain to be a snarky comeback, but he retaliates in advance by swiftly plunging two fingers into her. She gasps sharply as he pulls back slightly and drives back in before she can recover. Grinning madly, he sets a steady, punishing, rhythm, curving his fingers each time he thrusts into her to hit her sensitive spot. 

He can feel her getting wetter and wetter from his actions, the heavy musk of her arousal making him dizzy. His throat goes dry as his eyes lock onto the subtle flex of muscle in her neck as she thrashes against the restraints, a droplet of sweat sliding down her skin into her collarbone. 

She’s mumbling nonsensical gibberish interspersed with wanton moans and he ducks down to scatter marks across her breasts while she’s distracted. His lips tease and taunt, bite and nip at the skin for added stimulation as his fingers continue plunging into her with abandon. 

She’s dripping all over his sheets and he knows it’s going to be a while before he doesn’t get hard just by the thought of her tied up in his bed. 

With roughened breathing and toes twitching, he can tell that she’s getting close. Her fingers grasp rigidly onto the bed frame above her head, the wood creaking in protest under the strain. 

“Oh gods,” her body is trembling, vibrating, as her muscles ripple against the bindings. 

He adds a third finger, crooking them to hit deeper, pushing harshly on her clit with his thumb and –

“S-su,” she chokes out a gasp on his name as the fibers of the tie pinning her wrists snap and she gushes all over his hand, her walls squeezing impossibly tight around his fingers. (His cock twitches in response, wishing it was in their place.)

He continues slow strokes with his fingers as the waves of her orgasm pulse through her body. After a few moments, the quivering subsides and her breathing begins to even out. He shoots her a lazy, crooked smile as he pulls out from her. 

Slowly, making sure he catches her gaze, he brings his fingers up to his mouth, humming with satisfaction as he sucks them clean.

He sees the shock-shyness-lust etched across her face and grins at the thoroughly ruined look of her. There’s a rosy hue to her cheeks and a luster in her eyes, her hair dampened and clinging to her sweat-slickened skin. Proof of her arousal is smeared across her upper thighs, her pussy is wet and glistening from his attention, and all of it is visibly, depravedly, on display for him.  

He crawls back over her and ducks down for a brief kiss on the corner of her mouth, throwing her words back at her in his usual baritone, forgetting Sukea’s lighter voice for a moment, “I wanted to know how you taste.”

Her cheeks turn from pink to crimson at his words as she leans into his kiss. “Kami, Sukea, that was…” 

She glances down at her newly freed hands, eyes going wide followed by a squeak as she covers her face. She peeks out to look at him between her fingers, looking endearingly pink and embarrassed. 

Her words are muffled by her hands when she whispers in abject mortification, “Shit, I'm so sorry about your tie.”

He chuckles lightly, trying to put her at ease with a kiss to her forehead, but she’s not convinced.

“I’ll get you a new one, I promise,” she adds emphatically. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve never worn that thing in my life. Besides…” he pries her hands away from her face and bends forward for an achingly sweet kiss. His hand slides to tangle in her hair as his tongue traces the shape of her lips, delving in to caress her hot muscle in long, languid strokes. He breaks away and grins, all sharp teeth on display, “It was well worth it.” 

He massages her wrists gently in his calloused hands for a few moments before gazing up at her with a dark glint in his eyes, “Can you handle more?” 

“Absolutely,” she replies without hesitation. She gives him a shy smile and her eyes dart towards her ankles, “Can you untie me though?”

“Of course,” he presses a kiss to the underside of her jaw and slides down the bed to undo the bindings around her ankles. The scarves get tossed off to the side before he returns to kneel in front of her. 

She scooches closer so that she’s practically in his lap, angling forward to tease his earlobe between her teeth. His mind is buzzing and he can’t tell if the sound roaring in his ears is the thundering of his own arousal or her warm little breaths.

“Your turn,” she exhales over the shell of his ear with all the allure of an expert seductress. He hums contentedly as her hands slowly trail down his torso, her fingertips raking ever so slightly as they meticulously outline his muscles. 

Petite hands sprawl out on his chest as she pushes him to lie flat on the mattress. She straddles him with her knees on either side as he falls back on his elbows easily, utterly ensnared by the suggestive vision she makes above him. 

Her weight shifts backwards on his legs and he bends his knees to offer some support as she reaches to gently grasp his cock. It twitches violently in her hands, almost embarrassingly sensitive after so much build up. 

Without delay, she starts to guide him to her entrance and his brain momentarily sputters to a halt before rebooting. He grabs her arm to stop her movements, “Wait, let me grab a cond–”

She interrupts him briskly, impatience edging her tone, “It’s fine, I’m on the ANBU mandated birth control.”

“Oh,” he gulps nervously, a little worried at how long he’s going to last with how high strung he feels at the moment. ‘Although… ’

She seems to pick up on his hesitation, speaking tentatively, “Unless you’d be more comfortable…”

“No!” he exclaims, perhaps too eagerly, because after only a moment of contemplation, he is now one hundred percent committed to the idea of sinking into her raw and feeling every single clench of her walls around him.

She grins waggishly, the tip of her pink tongue poking out between her teeth. He gives in to the impromptu compulsion to push himself up on his elbows to meet her lips and suck that naughty tongue into his mouth. 

She whimpers, the sound outright erotic as their tongues tangle together in a filthy dance. Breaking away, she smatters open mouthed kisses against his reflexively tightening muscles while her hand continues on its mission to align his cock with her entrance. His hands reach out to steady her by the hips, her waist seeming tiny in his larger hands, and –

Finally, finally, she lowers herself down onto him, her lips parting slightly at the intrusion and her eyes fluttering shut. He feels the way she stretches around him as she slowly sinks lower, filling herself up, so, so damn wet and tight around him that it feels like the air has been knocked from his lungs. 

He has to desperately reign in his control in order not to lose himself immediately, hands inadvertently tightening in their hold on her slim waist. 

His jaw clenches at the effort, hoping for a brief respite, but as soon as she is fully seated, she starts moving, using the positioning of his legs for leverage. 

He grunts at the searing heat of her core as she rocks against him in slow, dominating movements, his head falling back onto the mattress. Beads of sweat are rolling down the back of his neck and he has to wonder at this woman who gets him more worked up than any spar in recent history. The thought crosses his mind that he’d immensely enjoy a spar with her. 

She starts to slide her ass up and down his thighs to ride him at a deliriously, torturously indulgent pace, and his mind melts. His voice is hoarse as he groans out her name, “Ah, fuck, I–”

He’s cut off abruptly as she widens her knees, sinking down farther as her hands explore his torso. She leans forward, grinding her clit against his pelvic bone as her fingers graze up his chest. Playfully, she tweaks his nipples and a sound akin to a whine sneaks out of his throat before he can swallow it. The temporary mortification soon dissipates as he loses himself once more in the lewd slick and slide of her pussy while she rides him brazenly. 

They’re both breathing heavily, coated in a sheen layer of sweat from the exertion, and he can already feel himself winding up to approach his peak. His fingers dig into her skin, certain to leave marks as his hands brace her hips, aiding in her momentum as he lifts and slams her down onto him deeper with every hit. 

Her moans are blurring into one another, her eyes closing as red flyaway strands stick to her dewy skin. Her head is thrown back as his hands shift to cup her breasts, pinching her nipples for further simulation and he just about loses it there and then at the vividly pornographic sight. He feels a surge of warm wetness flood his cock as she clamps around him automatically. A string of curses fly out of his mouth as he frantically bucks up with his hips to prolong her orgasm and careen himself to his own. 

His senses are completely overloaded by her scent, her touch, her fucking velvety walls. His brain feels like utter mush and his tongue is fuzzy in his mouth as he fights his climax for just a moment longer to call out in a gravelly, borderline desperate tone, “Kae.”

Her eyes snap open, twin pools of darkened gray that seem to be flecked with green. 

“I’m gonna–”

Her mouth twitches upwards in an expression that is nothing less than devious as she steadies herself with her hands on his chest while continuing to ride him to oblivion. His pulse is humming all too rapidly as her nails scrape against his torso, her lips whispering the words that break him in an indecently sensual purr, 

“Come inside me, Sukea.”

“Oh, fuck,” the words leave his mouth in a violent growl as the intensified pleasure finally overtakes him. His vision blurs into white splotches as he comes harder than he has in years and an intense tingling sensation races down his spine. 

He jerks spastically into her, burying himself deeper in her wet, wet, oh god so tight pussy and savoring the feeling of every spasm until the last of his spend is emptied into her. 

He exhales shakily, his limbs feeling like lead as he slumps back onto the mattress with a groan, lazily reaching for Kaede’s arm so he can tug her to his chest. She collapses against his collarbone as his arms loop around her weakly, his nose burying itself in her hair. He lets the high of his orgasm fade away gradually, the release making him feel absurdly relaxed. His eyes open sleepily (‘when did they close?’) after he feels a timid tap on his shoulder.

Kaede glances meaningfully at their still linked bodies and he blushes before letting her roll to the side and pulling out of her, their combined spend dribbling out. He wrinkles his nose a little at the mess and then looks at her apologetically before pushing to his feet, muttering “one second”. He walks to the bathroom and smirks when he feels her gaze burning on his bare backside. 

Grabbing two washcloths, he quickly dampens them under warm water. She’s sitting on the edge of the bed when he returns, flushing and offering a soft, “thank you” as he hands her one. They both clean themselves up, and he takes the used washcloths and tosses them in the laundry bin before plopping back onto the mattress. He starts to reach for her, yet hesitates with his arm half-outstretched.

“Why don’t you stay for a few minutes,” he suggests in a light tone, not knowing why exactly he feels the strange pull, particularly since he’s generally the first one to get up and go as soon as possible. 

She smiles shyly and nods, replying softly, “Just a few minutes.” He pushes down the covers and draws her towards him, bringing her shoulder blades flush against his chest. She sighs, relaxing into his hold as his arms wrap securely around her, his larger form enveloping her completely. His nose nuzzles contentedly into the crook of her neck, lips murmuring into her nape, “You just smell so good.”

She huffs a little with amusement, sneaking her toes between his ankles to intertwine their legs. Emboldened, his hand slides up (completely inadvertently) to palm her breast gently. She snorts, but doesn’t make any complaint, if anything burrowing closer to his chest. Her ass wiggles against his groin, making his cock pulse weakly, but it’s a nice feeling.

They lay like that for several moments, just drinking in one another’s body heat until he hears–

“Is that… Icha Icha?”

He looks to follow her sight line and sees his orange copy of Icha Icha Paradise sitting conspicuously on the dresser.

‘Fuck. Think fast.’  

“Oh um, yeah an old teammate gave me a copy a while back.” He rubs the back of his neck nervously, expecting an admonishment for being a pervert and adds belatedly in what he hopes is a convincing tone, “It’s not really my style though.”

Her mouth curves upwards in a wry grin, decidedly not the reaction he expected. She sits up, resting her cheek against her right hand, the movement pushing her boobs together slightly, all the more evident when the sheet slips a little from around her chest. His mouth goes dry at the sight of her thoroughly marked perky little breasts with those perfectly appetizing dusty pink nipples peeking through the sheet. 

He feels himself hardening once more, marginally impressed with his own tenacity, and the matter isn’t helped by the words that come out of her mouth next. 

“Ah, well, I’ve read them to see what all the fuss is about and now it’s sort of a guilty pleasure of mine. There’s this one scene involving chakra that I’ve been curious about…”

His eyes bug out of his head as his cock twitches, exhaustion immediately forgotten. There’s no way. No way. He mentally sends a thank you to wherever the pervert Sannin is spending his afterlife. 

Clearing his throat, he tries to affect a tone of casual indifference, “Well if you show me which one you mean, I’m happy to give it a try…”

Chapter Text

4 years after the end of the fourth shinobi war, Tsunade announces her retirement and forces the hat onto Kakashi. It’s not something he’s ever wanted, but Naruto is still learning about diplomacy and starting his little family, so for at least a little while longer, the responsibility falls to Kakashi.

3 months in and he hates it. Shikamaru is working as the Hokage’s assistant, helping to keep the place running (mostly) on schedule, but Kakashi is stir-crazy from being cooped up, steadily approaching the brink of unhinged. These days, he doesn’t get to leave the village for anything other than mind-numbing summits and with the seemingly endless piles of paperwork, he hardly has time to even spar with anyone. 

So far, the first (and only) exciting thing to happen was an attempted assassination during his second month in office, though his ANBU guard took care of the threat before he even had the chance to do anything. He should probably be happy about that, yet he was mostly just disappointed that he didn’t see any action.

Also–

Since he’s been appointed as the Rokudaime, Kakashi hasn’t seen Kaede once. 

For a few months after that second encounter, they had started seeing each other fairly frequently to relieve their mutual stressors. Sometimes they spent several nights together in a row, and there were other, longer stretches of time where they didn’t see each other because one or both were out on a mission. 

With Kaede, it was casual, creative, frankly amazing sex. They kept up the premise of hiding their respective identities the whole time, and even after the initial fascination with the disguises faded, the chemistry between the two never did. 

Still… Kakashi began to get somewhat frustrated with the anonymity. He’s never been one for relationships, but he was man enough to admit he liked Kaede. Aside from their obvious compatibility in bed, she was clever, witty, and kept him on his toes. As the weeks went on, the nights they spent together grew longer, and although they didn’t talk about anything overly serious, it made him feel inexplicably lighter. It was a relief to spend time with her.

Being Sukea, with Kaede, was like a breath of fresh air. 

He started keeping the matcha cookies that she seemed to like in his pantry and always made sure to have honey on hand for her tea… When he started cleaning his damn bathroom regularly, he knew he was screwed. 

Of course, it had to be just his luck that the moment when he started to want more, Tsunade announced her retirement, effective immediately. Kakashi had known that it was coming sometime in the near future, but apparently a spat with the Raikage had pushed Tsunade over the edge and she was done with Hokage-dom. 

He felt irrationally frustrated with the situation. Kaede had messed with his head, but the whole thing between them just seems… more objectionable with Kakashi as the Hokage now. Although he isn’t her direct superior persay, she is still one of his ANBU. For him to be having sex with someone who is not only under his command, but doesn’t even realize they’re under his command… He doesn’t want to put her in any sort of compromising position.

Not to mention, it’s not like he could keep up the whole “Sukea” facade if he brought her back to his new Hokage residence. 

Even though he understood the secrecy, he wanted to know who she was behind the henge. And now, with him being the Hokage, the whole cloak-and-daggers mystery of her identity doesn’t necessarily apply.

Out of curiosity’s sake, he had picked up her file, skimming through the various missions she had been on, and wow, she had been busy. He noted that her first seduction mission had been just days after their initial tryst and from the coincidental timing, he suspected that the two were likely related. It made him laugh a little to know that she had probably picked "Sukea" up as practice. Not that it bothers him. 

Her file marked her full name as Sato Kaede, though he already knew it to be an alias. Technically, the Hokage had the clearance to know the identity of all ANBU agents. He was certain the ANBU commander would know her real name, and Kakashi was well within his bounds to inquire into the matter, but it felt a little slimy. He would find out her name and then what? Show up as Kakashi and ask her out? Show up as the Hokage? For a booty call? For something… more? 

It was all so complicated. He had never before been in a thing like this before. 

—

The week before his inauguration, he told Kaede that he was starting a long-term mission and wouldn’t be able to see her for a while (a bit of a stretch, but not so far from the reality of the situation). He felt bad for giving such a vague explanation, but she didn’t seem to object to the ambiguity. After all, she was the one who needed to maintain her henged persona during their interactions. She seemed to understand that he couldn’t give her the complete reason for breaking it off. 

They had spent every evening of that week together, as if cramming in as much as they could (in his book, up until the moment they placed the hat on his head was fair game). The night before his “mission” (aka inauguration), Kaede had simply kissed him on the cheek, telling him to come find her if things changed.

And he wants to. Gods, he wants to. 

He misses their flirty banter, the cute way she teased him, the way her body felt against his when he slammed her against the wall, how responsive she was to every little touch, the way she moaned his – Sukea’s – name in that breathy tone… 

—

Early into his tenure as the Rokudaime, Sakura comes over to the Hokage’s office to assist him and Shikamaru with the surplus of paperwork. And… 

He’s pretty sure that he’s going crazy from withdrawal or something like it, because underneath the overwhelming potency of antiseptic and lemony hospital smell that clings to Sakura, he thinks for a moment that her scent is reminiscent of her. 

Later, he idly notices himself appreciating Sakura’s figure and the way her black spandex shorts make her legs look oh so good. As soon as he realizes what he’s doing, he shamefully and quickly locks that intrusive thought into the depths of his mind and throws away the key. No one else seems to notice the Hokage’s wandering eyes, but he ends up dismissing Sakura and Shikamaru early out of embarrassment, promising to tackle the rest of the work by himself. 

Once they’re gone, his head drops onto his desk with a dull thud as he tries to forcibly knock the perversion out of his brain. Wow, he was depraved. Okay, yes, they did look a little similar (although Kaede was taller than Sakura, wasn’t she?), so obviously his mind is just playing tricks, but it’s troubling all the same. The subtle floral scent lingers in his office, driving him mad enough that he ends up summoning the pack to keep him company, filling the room with the neutral, unproblematic stench of dog.

But why was he so hung up on Kaede anyways? He was solidly in his thirties, more than used to having people flit in and out of his life, particularly when it came to romance. They hadn’t been dating, not really, but he had never been with someone that long before her. 

Nevertheless, there’s an itch for her building under his skin. An ache that has wormed its way even into his novels, transforming the pouty eyes of the Icha Icha heroines to a whimsical gray and the blonde strands to a striking crimson. Damn it, is nowhere safe anymore?

Luckily (or unluckily as his stupid brain interjects) Sakura seems to be wildly busy with hospital work and some sort of medical outreach missions so his mind doesn’t have a chance to betray him again. After that… incident, he can’t quite look her in the eye for a while. Thankfully, he’s enough of an oddball that she doesn’t question his suddenly strange(r) behavior. 

—

Regardless, he’s frustrated at the whole damn situation of being stuck as Hokage, as well as being frustrated. So when Kaede’s team reports in from a mission, he has a hard time controlling his body’s reaction to the sight of her in the tight ANBU uniform that molds itself perfectly to her curves. 

His treacherous memory conjures up the image of how picture-perfect she looks in his bed, wearing a sassy smirk and nothing else. He bites his cheek to stave off the impending arousal, but it doesn’t do much; he’s craving that blend of snark and shyness that he’s come to lo– appreciate – about her. 

Kakashi hasn’t seen her since his inauguration, and hasn’t had any reason to, because usually, ANBU doesn’t report directly to the Hokage’s office. In this particular case though, the team’s mission held a more complex two-part directive, involving a diplomatic assignment in addition to the black ops component. 

Kaede’s ANBU team gives their report, and he’s barely paying attention, mostly running through a dozen different scenarios with ways they could really put the Hokage desk to use. There’s a small couch too, he thinks idly, but the desk takes priority in his mind.

He snaps back to focus as the last member recounts their version of the events and dismisses the group offhandedly. They all nod and start to head out the door when the impulse overtakes him and he speaks casually,

“Owl, can you stay behind for a moment?”

Kaede lingers behind the rest of the team as they exit, turning to him hesitantly, “Can I help you with something, Hokage-sama?” 

She asks the question in a steady voice and he’s always hated the title but his brain starts imagining her screaming it as he sinks into her and it suddenly doesn’t sound so bad.

Fuck. His cock is aching and the idea of fucking her in his office is making him all kinds of dizzy. Should he just…? 

His fingers are drumming restlessly on the surface of the desk as his mind races through all the possibilities and potential outcomes and the impropriety of it all. 

“Hokage-sama?” she repeats tentatively. 

Fuck it.

“I’m Sukea,” he blurts out before he can really think it through. He henges himself into the likeness of his counterpart before dropping it after a moment. 

She stiffens visibly and her chakra starts fluctuating erratically in something like panic. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He shouldn’t have said anything. Why did he open his stupid mouth? Why is she panicking? Is she unhappy? Does she think he’s unattractive as himself? 

He backtracks in a wild stammer, feeling entirely out of sorts as he begins to babble: “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to just throw that out, I just wanted you to know why I haven’t gotten in touch lately and I wasn’t sure if you were still interested in something and—”

“Shit.” 

His eyebrows quirk upwards at the frankness of her tone. She pulls off her ANBU mask and runs a hand through Kaede’s red hair. 

“Kakashi…” His brows furrow slightly as her voice modulates to something eerily familiar that he can’t quite place before she releases her own henge. 

His eyes widen in disbelief as red strands lighten to pink and gray irises brighten to a vivid emerald green. The unmistakable purple diamond shimmers into view, smack-dab in the middle of her forehead and he slumps back in his seat, head spinning while his brain connects the dots. 

He just propositioned his student. He propositioned his student… in the Hokage’s office. 

On a decidedly more important note, he’s been fucking her for months. 

“So…”

He huffs out an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah well, now I understand why you were uncomfortable when I was flirting with you,” he aims for a lighthearted tone with the half-joke but cringes as soon as the words leave his mouth. 

Sakura just stands there, looking at him with a thoughtful expression. 

He feels like a complete idiot under her evaluating gaze. Her chakra control, casual remarks about medical ninjutsu, time spent around Tsunade, the fact that she kept her identity hidden… fucking hell, he’s supposed to be smart. 

But he never expected… with Sakura? 

His brain starts to recall the sight of her sprawled out in his bed, this time reimagined in vibrant hues of pink and green. She had been… gods so forward and so damned feisty, and he’s reeling as he surrenders to the admission that it was Sakura that he has fucked her every which way since Sunday. And he had… and she had… 

He stands up nervously, trying to figure out how one apologizes for sleeping with their former student when you’re both in disguise when he notices her gaze dropping down and remembers his situation from earlier. Fuck. 

Her eyebrow arches at the obvious tenting of his pants and his cock twitches unhelpfully. She smirks at him playfully, repeating her earlier words in a teasing lilt, 

“Can I help you with something, Hokage-sama?”

The words are dripping with thinly veiled innuendo and he’s rendered speechless, staring at her with wide eyes as he thinks that he is absolutely partial to the title now. There’s a few moments of tense silence as his mind scrambles to glue itself back together, and then she starts stuttering nervously, seeming to take his lack of response as a bad thing. 

“I’m sorry, that was wildly inappropriate, I just mean… well, we’ve already had sex… er, a lot… and it’s not like that’s suddenly erased. It’s… uh… not something I ever really thought about before, obviously, but–”

She cuts off abruptly as he flashes to the door and slams the lock shut, activating the room’s privacy seal before turning to her. Darkened charcoal eyes pin her with an intent look as a rosy flush colors her complexion. 

“Are you saying,” he steps into her space, hands clenched tightly at his side in a show of unprecedented (and barely maintained) restraint, “that you wouldn’t be opposed…” he lets his voice trail up at the end in a questioning tone.

“I’m saying…” her hands reach up to hook in the hem of his mask and he swallows thickly in nervous anticipation. His head angles towards her, and slowly, she rolls the fabric down to expose the unmasked face that she has only ever seen with purple makeup. 

She smiles shyly as she holds his face gingerly in her hands, turning it from side-to-side in silent evaluation, “…I get why you hide this face.”

A little insecurity peeks through as he quips teasingly, “Is it so bad?”

Her hands slide up to tangle in his hair, nails racking across his scalp as she whispers, “It’s very, very good, Hokage-sama.”

A ragged exhale breaks from his lips as his hitai-tae is pulled off deftly, falling to the floor with a dull thunk. She grins widely as she continues toying with the silvery strands, “I like being able to touch your hair.” 

Her hands weave tighter into the pale silver tufts, tugging none-too-gently on his hair. His jaw clenches as a shudder races down his spine, not unnoticed by her sharp eyes.

“That’s interesting…” she murmurs with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“Sakura,” he exhales in a strained tone halfway between a plea and a reprimand. 

She smiles softly, looking absorbed in thought as her finger lightly, almost tentatively, traces over the full length of his scar. His eyes flutter shut with a deep inhalation. There’s something unexpectedly intimate about the moment, her delicate touch sending an electrifying tingling sensation across his skin. His heart starts beating faster and faster, feeling like he’s raced Gai around the monument while her thumb continues down to trace over his lips. 

His eyes open at the light pressure, watching raptly when her pupils dilate as he reaches forward to tuck a loose pink strand behind her ear. The back of his knuckles brush against her jawline, his hand shifting to gently cup her chin. He tilts her head up to look at him steadily, and for once, his mind combines the layers of the two women, blending red into pink and gray into green until it’s all purely Sakura. 

He zeroes in on her fond, tender, expression, cataloging every detail of her face. Her smooth skin, radiant green eyes, her full, prettily pink, thoroughly tempting lips…

There’s a quiet intensity to his voice as he asks, “Can I kiss you?” 

He doesn’t have to wait long for her answer as her lips curling upwards in an affectionate smile, “I’d be upset if you didn’t.”

His eyes dart between her eyes and her lips, wanting to be sure, but there is no trace of doubt in her eyes, and he doesn’t have the intention of resisting any longer. 

Leaning down, he cups her face in both his hands and brings their lips together in a light caress. Soft and yielding, her lips give way to his immediately, shifting and slotting together like two pieces of a puzzle. He melts under the familiar warmth of her touch, drawing her closer, closer. 

Her fragrance envelops him, and even with the scent-blocking properties of the ANBU uniform, he can detect the heady beginnings of her arousal, the floral undertones of her shampoo, the lingering mintiness of her toothpaste... 

She sighs into the kiss and his tongue steals the opportunity to slip out, teasing her bottom lip with a gently stimulating pressure. Her mouth parts expectantly at the touch, letting their tongues swirl together in an intoxicatingly feverish dance as he drinks in the subtly sweet taste that is uniquely Kaede, uniquely Sakura. 

What starts soft and warm quickly swells to an inferno, tongues clashing in a battle for dominance that he feels on the edge of losing. The scratch of her nails on his scalp goes straight to his groin, and he has a moment of sheer regret for having worn that damn wig all those times before.

Kami, she feels so good against him. He missed this, he missed her.  

Her fingers tangle in the strands at the back of his nape as her mouth shifts to trail searing kisses along his jawline. She sucks at the sensitive spot on his neck, and he feels his arousal skyrocketing as her teeth graze against his pulse point. The rush of adrenaline is sending him tumbling, making him clumsy as his fingers fumble with her ANBU vest, pulling it overhead and tossing it haphazardly to the side as his brain chants not close enough, not close enough. His hand drops to cup her ass, crushing her tighter against his chest, the heat of her core pervading even through the stupid stupid Hokage robes. 

He’s eager, impatient, to have her again. There’s an alarm ringing in the back of his head that tells him they should slow down, take a moment to discuss how things are changing. Between Sakura and Kakashi, there’s too much history, too much built between them to maintain the casual distance of Sukea and Kaede. But then she’s palming his rapidly hardening erection through his pants and all sensical thought flies out the window.  

Her scent, her touch, her taste, her fucking whimpers… it’s all too distracting for him to focus on anything else. He doesn’t realize that she’s ushering him backwards until his legs hit something solid, knees buckling as he plops onto his office chair rather clumsily. She immediately starts unzipping his pants. 

“Sakura, I–”

She cuts him off by pressing her lips to his insistently and he’s beginning to think her lips are coated in some sort of stupid potion because his brain goes completely hazy. 

“Kakashi”

And oh fuck because he’s imagined Kaede calling him by his real name dozens of times, but somehow the silky whisper of his name is even better when paired with the lust-darkened green of her eyes. 

“Let me take care of you,” she purrs in a low, seductive murmur, her tongue tracing the shell of his ear. His pants are suddenly around his ankles, and he doesn’t remember how they got there, but then she’s pushing down his boxers and his erection jolts free against his stomach, and none of it matters. 

She kneels in front of him, and he feels a rush of want as she eyes him appreciatively, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. She reaches around him to fiddle with something underneath the chair and he doesn’t squeak as the chair abruptly sinks lower. She’s now exactly at eye level with his cock and her smirk nearly undoes him right there before her tongue flicks against the notch of his tip.  

He inhales sharply, hips jerking forward, feeling simultaneously overly sensitive and in desperate need of greater stimulation. 

“Fuck, Sakura,” he pants in little more than a whine.

Her smile widens devilishly before she starts teasing him relentlessly with her lips and tongue, pressing soft kisses against his length and trailing her tongue gently from base to tip. She pushes his shirt up to expose his abdominals and outlines them with a delicate touch and he has a brief moment of self-satisfaction for keeping up his training regimen before the molten heat of her mouth envelops him and he completely loses his train of thought. 

He chokes out a gasp as she swallows around him, knuckles white from how tight his hands are gripping onto the sides of his chair. His head is thrown back against the chair at the intensely pleasurable feeling of her, warm and wet and fucking humming around his cock, sending shivers up his spine. He can already feel his balls tightening as she quickly builds him to a peak, but he hasn’t done anything for her yet. 

His jaw is painfully clenched as he glances down to watch her, and… 

He doesn’t know how to feel about the sense of raw, almost primal gratification that floods him at the lewd image of her kneeling in front of him, pleasuring him in his robes with his cock in her mouth and saliva dribbling from her lips. He’s never been more grateful for the silencing seals in the office because the sounds of her slurping around him are positively depraved. 

A soft green glow forms around her hand and his eyes widen in realization. 

“Sakura, if you pull that shit–” he starts in a warning tone, his breath hitching as she traces his length with a chakra coated finger, looking up at him with a glimmer in her eyes. 

He suppresses a traitorous moan half-successfully, but then the air is knocked from his lungs as her hand joins her mouth to grip him firmly, stroking diligently up and down his length as her chakra careens through his system. They’ve done tricks with chakra before, months ago now, but never in combination with her mouth, and she’s not holding back at all this time. He feels every single nerve of his body like a live wire, as if the sensitivity has been cranked to maximum. 

His hair is dampened with sweat while his muscles constrict reflexively, his jaw tightening, and muttered profanities spilling uncontrollably from under his breath. 

He’s never been more intimately aware of the way her chakra feels in his system, carefully controlled and yet thoroughly dominating as the hot-cold sensation overrides his senses. 

His nails dig into the arms of the chair while she keeps a driving rhythm with her mouth and hand. The stream of chakra moves through her fingertips and chases up his cock, lightly stimulating his balls as he strangles a groan at the blissful, strangely phantom sensation. It’s almost an out-of-body phenomenon to experience every point of contact, and even areas which are only being touched with chakra, on such a minute scale. 

His pulse is racing feverishly fast, eyebrows pinched together and sweat building on his brow as she swallows earnestly around him. The synced motion of her mouth and hand speeds up markedly, and the chakra output heightens in turn, pulsing deliriously through his system, sensitivity spiking once more and–

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Sakura”

He gasps as his system is flooded with endorphins, thrusting deep into her throat and spilling into her waiting mouth. 

It’s all too quick. 

He feels himself sag into the chair as his heart rate naturally starts slowing down, his mind feeling numbingly content, but he is far from satisfied. 

As soon as the high fades, he’s hit with a wave of frustration. He wanted to savor this, wanted to prove how much he missed her, not cum in her mouth before so much as even touching her. He feels overwhelmingly guilty, nearly snarling in frustration at his own overeagerness. For fuck’s sake, he’s mid-way through his thirties, but she gets him riled up like a horny teenager.

She’s still kneeling in front of him, looking deceptively submissive for the absolute minx that she is. If not for that teasing, challenging gleam to her eye, he may have been convinced. But then her hot pink little tongue flicks out and something in him snaps at the sight of her tauntingly licking droplets of his cum off her lips. 

“Sakura…” his voice is low and testy as he stands up, eyes glued to hers as he swiftly kicks his pants off the rest of the way. He shucks off the white cloak before pulling off his undershirt fluidly, unable to process the warring arousal and guilt he feels at the fact that he was just given head while in the Hokage’s office, in the Hokage’s chair, and in the Hokage’s robes. His mind isn’t made up on how he should feel, but… there are more pressing things to attend to right now. 

He’s towering over her as she stands up slowly, and his head cocks to the side to study her attentively between the strands of hair that are hanging over his eyes. 

He arches an eyebrow at her figure, jaw twitching as he rasps, “off,” in a commanding tone. 

She doesn’t contest and slips out of her clothes quickly, evidently gathering from his tone that he’s not in the mood for a strip-tease. Her ANBU shirt is tossed to the ground followed by her pants until she’s left in just her bindings and a pair of practical black underwear. 

He takes quick steps forwards, stalking her backwards until she hits the solid wood of the desk in an apt reversal of their earlier movements.

He grabs her securely by the hips and easily hoists her up to sit her on the desk. He angles forward over her, his body already brimming with feverish excitement. 

“You… stay right here,” he murmurs darkly. 

A playful grin spreads across her face, taunting, provoking, like she knows he’s been thinking of this ever since she walked in the door.

“Have you imagined fucking me on the Hokage desk, Rokudaime-sama?” The title comes out in a purr, her mouth forming each vowel almost mesmerizingly slowly. 

He smirks, his expression wolfish as he eyes her greedily, his palms gliding up and down her bare thighs. Humming in a deep baritone, his eyebrow twitches when she starts chewing on her lip, “Hmm… I’ve imagined doing a variety of things to you on this desk.”

“But I think to start…” his fingers hook in the bindings around her breasts, tugging her closer to him in the process, “…these need to come off.”

Summoning a small charge of lightning to his fingertips, he cuts precisely through her chest bindings, letting them flutter to the ground. She whines and he meets her for a sloppily wet kiss, grinning roguishly as he breaks away. 

“Two can play that game, Sakura-chan,” he croons in a gravelly tone, delighting in the full body shiver that breaks out across her skin. 

Reducing the charge to little more than a vibration, he grazes his fingers against one of her nipples. His chest rumbles in satisfaction at the soft moan that escapes her lips. He continues tormenting her breasts, working her nipples to a peak as his nose nuzzles against the curve of her neck, inhaling deeply and humming contentedly against her skin. Her breaths have turned shallow when the craving starts to surge. 

He reaches for her panties, pulling them away from her skin and they’re completely soaked, saturated with her arousal, and he hasn’t even– 

He takes a breath to calm himself down, but it backfires as he drowns in her scent, his cock already twitching back to life. 

His grip on the fabric tightens, quickly yanking them down her legs. He plants a few open-mouthed kisses along her creamy thighs before slipping the panties off her ankles entirely and throwing them over his shoulder onto the chair with a sly grin. He pushes her legs open, exposing damp and darkened magenta curls and she whimpers as the cool air hits her pussy. She’s always been shaved before, but now as he looks at the matching set, all he can think is…

“So much pink,” he murmurs as he sinks to his knees in front of her. He grabs her thighs and tugs her closer to the edge of the desk, her hands shifting behind her to brace her weight. He pushes her legs wider to make more space for him, inching closer until his nose buries itself in the thatch of curls. 

He inhales the heady scent that sends his blood racing, his fingers inadvertently digging into her skin with bruising pressure. 

“…my new favorite color,” he mumbles, nearly indistinctly. 

“Kashi,” she whines weakly as his nose nudges at her glistening pink folds. His grip tightens on her thighs as his tongue flutters out to taste her and oh, oh. He trembles at the profuse wetness, the lingering bittersweetness, feeling dizzy and dazed and hopelessly content to just drink her in.

Moving aimlessly, his tongue swirls around her bud, wandering to her entrance and brushing against her folds, not building to anything as he just takes pleasure in the sensation of having her. Her breath comes out in shallow pants, nipples pebbled from arousal and the cool air. She looks like an utter vision, an erotic centerpiece on the desk– his desk. That fact alone fills him with a bizarrely inflated ego. 

She’s sitting on scattered mission reports and various documents needing his approval, and he really should care that she’s dripping all over them… They’ll all need to be redone at this point, but he just can’t find it in himself to give a damn. Now, in the moment, this feels worth all the bullshit he’s had to put up with from the job so far, and is certainly the most enjoyable thing he’s gotten out of the office. 

Her whines are getting needier and needier, his name falling from her lips in a breathy mewl that makes him croon. He rewards her by slipping his finger into her tight entrance all the way up to his knuckle. She moans in a deliriously low tone, more grating than anything he’s heard from her before, and his answering groan is muffled as his mouth begins to double-down in its attentions. 

“Oh, yes, yes, fuck, right there,” she praises in an unrestrained whimper. 

His tongue flicks demandingly against her pussy as she starts to rock against his face, her hand latching out to clutch his scalp with a deceptively strong pressure for the size of her petite hands but is almost more fitting because this is Sakura and she can bring down mountains with her fists. 

Appreciatively, he flattens his tongue firmly against her clit before he latches onto her pearl and sucks, while crooking his finger farther into her. She gasps his name, back curving and pink nipples arching into the air with an enticing shiver. She looks absolutely captivating like this, hair sticking to her neck and gods her damn scent is driving him mad. 

Before she can recover, he’s slipping in a second finger and her gaze is incredulous as she looks down at him with wide eyes. He grins wickedly and her breaths grow rougher and rougher as his tongue continues to tease and taunt, swirl and suck on her bundle of nerves. Her face contorts into pinched eyebrows and lips that are tightly pressed together as he continues thrusting at a restrained pace, but hitting deeper, deeper each time. He can see her fighting for control, but he wants to rip it from her. His fingers crook farther in, scraping against a ridge and it’s so slick that his teeth are clenching painfully from the tension building in his own body. 

He’s greedy and he wants more still, wants every sound, every twitch, every tremor of her body. This is probably not the time to experiment but… he pulls out his fingers for a moment and she whimpers at the abrupt loss. His eyes close in concentration, visualizing the build up of his own faintly shimmering glow around his fingers and when he next plunges his fingers into her, she wails, clamping down on him so tightly and suddenly that he swears. He keeps stroking slowly, circling inside her wet heat and coaxing every shudder out of her body. 

She’s half-sobbing as she continues to gush around his fingers, choking out disjointedly, “Fuck Kakashi, I–”

He stills his movements, prompting in a low voice, “Should I stop?” 

“N-no, but–”

“A-ahhh! ”

He pries one, two more orgasms out of her with his mouth and fingers until she’s a quivering mess on top of the desk.

When she comes back to herself, he slowly draws out his fingers and wipes them absently on his leg. He turns around to pick up the white robes and her eyebrows furrow in confusion as she looks up at him.

He brings the fabric to his face and her eyes widen in understanding as she weakly reaches out to intercept him. “Kakashi,” she shouts in admonishment, “you can’t–”

“They’re my robes, Sakura-chan.” He interrupts her with a mischievous grin, proceeding to use the cloak to wipe her wetness off his face. His smirk widens at her stunned, scandalized expression, as if fucking his former student on the Hokage desk was fine, but using his cloak to wipe up the evidence is where she draws the line. 

“This is the first thing it’s been good for.” He waggles his eyebrows at her suggestively, and she glares back at him fiercely (looking so damn cute when she’s angry). 

“Don’t say that,” she pouts with disapproval, “you’re a great Hokage.”

His eyebrows quirk upwards as his head tilts to the side cheekily. “I’m great?” his voice is deep and teasing and she blushes deliciously from her nose down to her neck. 

“Don’t be so cocky,” she huffs haughtily, crossing her arms and looking remarkably prideful for all her five-and-a-half-feet of flushed skin and thoroughly mussed hair. 

“Mahh Sakura-chan,” he intones in a lilting voice, stalking closer to her and caging her over the desk with his hands planted on either side of her hips. 

“Make up your mind,” he whispers in a low, husky tone. He presses his lips to hers, yet keeps the kiss light when she tries to deepen it. Her head follows him as he pulls back, but he straightens his spine fully, angling out of her reach. 

Almost lazily, his hand drifts to his cock, watching her watching him and grinning at the dazed expression on her face, emerald eyes glossed over with pure lust.

“I’m either… great,” – there’s a slight emphasis on the last word as he grips himself firmly, shuddering at the contact  – “or I’m cocky,” – his voice drops an octave as he guides his tip to rub against her over-sensitized clit, drawing out a strangled moan from her throat. She shivers, panting into his collarbone as her head drops forward. 

“Which is it?” he asks in a deep voice, tauntingly dragging his cock up and down her folds at a leisurely pace. 

“You’re,” she puffs in a breathless tone, “insufferable.”

He teases at her entrance once more before pulling away entirely and she whines in frustration. He’s not overly happy with himself either, but it’s worth it to rile her up. 

“Nuh-uh,” he tuts disapprovingly. “That’s” – he thrusts weakly into her, feeling the tightening of her muscles as she tries to clench around him but pulling out too soon – “not very polite… Sakura.”

“Fuck,” she moans softly, “don’t… tease.”

He chuckles darkly at her eagerness, though his cock is throbbing with raw desire for her. 

“I need you, I missed you, can’t you–”

He cuts her off with an indulgent kiss, his tongue sweeping to caress hers languidly in heady, deliberate strokes. He cups the back of her head to draw her closer, prove to her… He wanted to tease her, but fuck the idea that she thinks he didn’t miss her… it’s utterly absurd.

He wraps one hand around her wrists, pinning them behind her back so that her chest arches forward. His head drops to nuzzle at her breast, his faint stubble scratching against her smooth, smooth skin as his tongue swirls around the bud until it's fully peaked. He pulls back to meet her gaze. 

“Sakura,” he says in a serious tone, “you have no idea how badly I’ve missed you.” With his free hand, he lines up his length with her entrance. “How much I’ve craved you, how much I want you now.”

His groan mingles with hers as he sinks into her slowly, watching intently as his cock plunges into her slick, slick heat, her walls squeezing tightly (oh gods even better than before) around him. It leaves him instantly breathless, the sight and feel of her dripping pussy, and he takes a moment to rest his clammy forehead against hers, both of them panting heavily.

“It’s been driving me out of my mind not to have you,” he admits hoarsely.

“Ka–” she stutters disjointedly, “ah, Kakashi, please.” 

“Sakura, fuck, it’s–” he breaks off incoherently, feeling barely lucid as he pulls out and starts thrusting into her shallowly, eyebrows scrunched in heavy focus. He’s moving slow, so slow, but it feels like the most he can manage right now, just taking his time to savor the feeling of her walls trembling around him. 

“F-fuck, I missed your–” he grunts harshly, licking his chapped lips, “gods you’re so wet, Sakura.”

He breathes heavily as he continues the torturously measured pace, “You feel… so good, s-so damn tight for me.” 

“K-ka–” his hips snap forward and she whimpers pitifully, his eyes glancing up keenly as jade orbs flash with something that he can’t place. “It felt… ngh … so good with you… with Sukea that I didn’t… I haven’t…” she trails off with a shudder as he thrusts deeper inside of her, feeling the clench of her walls around him. 

The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as she leans forward, hardened nipples dragging against his taut chest and her breath coming out in hot, shallow little pants against his skin. 

Almost confessionally, secretively, she whispers into his ear, “No one else seemed interesting enough.”

His eyes go wide, “What are you…?”

“You’re… the only one, I’ve ever–” she looks a little nervous as the admission slips from her lips and he’s so taken aback by the statement that he nearly stops moving entirely.

“Are you serious?” he asks incredulously, his voice sounding rougher than he intends.

“A-aah!” she cries out in a broken stutter as he abruptly rams into her with added force. He’s spurred into a quicker rhythm as her fingers clutch his arms, her perky breasts bouncing with every thrust like a damn porno. 

His jaw clenches rigidly as he stares down into glossy emerald eyes, questioning in a raspy voice, “Only – fuck – only with me? No one else?”

Her hands tangle in his hair, nails scratching jaggedly against his scalp and the sensation has his lips curling upwards, baring his teeth. 

“Just… S-Sukea. Just you.”

The answering snarl slips out before he can bite it back, his arousal roaring as he relishes in the feeling of her searing, obscenely wet pussy, knowing that no one else has. Why does that make it better, why does he…?

She cries out as he lurches forward, her inner walls wrapping around him constrictively as wetness spills onto the desk. 

“Fuck, Sakura,” he moans in a gravelly tone. 

He’s disoriented by the molten slickness of her pussy and he can’t think… 

She’s still clamped tightly around his cock as he pounds into her with feverish speeds, her nails raking down his back with titillating pleasure-pain, and it’s all almost, almost too much. His lungs are burning with the sweet, sweet scent of sweat and sex, cloying and heavy and heady as it clings to their skin and permeates thickly in the air. 

Gasping, as if gulping down oxygen, his hips stutter forward one last time as the coil of pleasure fractures, a white-hot scorch overtaking his vision as he comes undone, spilling into her with a guttural groan. His eyes are shut as he pants harshly, his entire body trembles with the aftershocks of his climax. 

He wraps his arms around her weakly, her body practically crumbling against his torso while they remain coupled together. Her head is tucked under his as his ragged breaths begin to even out, his hands stroking gently up and down her spine as he presses a kiss to her hair. 

“‘Kura?” he prompts softly, almost timidly. 

“Mm?” she muffles into his chest, her voice thick with sleepiness. A sharp pang shoots through him as she cuddles closer into his chest. 

He gulps nervously, “Mahh… nothing.” 

She sighs, nuzzling into his chest as her fingers mindlessly play with the short strands at the back of his neck. 

He swallows thickly before shaking his head lightly and adopting a cheery tone, “Just go ahead and catch your breath before round two.”

She brings her cheek away from his chest, looking up at him with a deadpan expression. “Round tw— Kakashi. I can’t feel my legs.”

He crinkles his eyes warmly, “take a quick nap,” he offers in an amiable voice. He pauses for a moment, adding in a low tone, “And then we’ll break-in the couch.”

“Kakashi!” She pokes him in the chest, and he rubs at the sore spot, pouting and affecting his best ninken impression. He knows it’s persuasive even with the mask so… 

“Sakura,” he retorts in a whiny voice.

“You can’t possibly expect to just play hooky the rest of the day,” she states dubiously. 

He sniffs lightly, remarking petulantly confidently, “I can and I will.”

“Honestly…” She rolls her eyes exasperatedly, “Don’t you have meetings?” 

He stifles a snicker: “I’m the Hokage, Sakura. What good is it if I don’t get my way once in a while?”

She huffs, “You’re so childish.”

“Sakura-chan,” he intones in a disarmingly deep voice, “I promise you’ll like what I have planned next.”

Her eyebrow twitches with interest, breaking the neutral expression she’s striving to maintain. “Oh?” 

He smirks, knowing that he’s won, and tilts his head to whisper over the shell of her ear, “Well, I was thinking…”

Chapter Text

When Sukea had called things off between them, Sakura was disappointed at the idea of not seeing him again. In the few months since that second meeting at the bar, they had settled into a comfortable arrangement of sorts, and she always looked forward to spending time with the man. 

Regardless of how many times they slept together, he was wildly attentive and made her feel cared for. The first time he brought her a cup of tea, sweetened exactly the way she liked, she was taken about at his thoughtfulness. He just smiled that warm smile as they sat together, sipping on their drinks and sharing in the relaxing quiet. 

Nights with him always promised a better ending to the day, no matter how it may have started, and she soon found herself seeking him out after a bad mission or losing a patient. Being with Sukea would always chase the darker thoughts from her mind, and then help her remember how to laugh again. 

It was just sex, yes, but she couldn’t help wondering how things might have turned out if she had met him as Sakura. If she had met him as him, with her as her, and they didn’t have this frustrating need to keep up appearances, could they be something more? He wasn’t intimidated by the fact that she was an elite kunoichi like the civilians she encountered, and he wasn’t overly cocky like many other male shinobi either. But would he be at all interested in the real Sakura? The pink-haired Sannin’s apprentice who created earthquakes with her fists and had two of the most powerful shinobi alive as teammates?

Sukea gave her a brief explanation about being sent on a long-term mission, and though she assumed there was more to the story, she appreciated that he said anything at all instead of just not showing up one night. Her first instinct when he told her had been to pry, to push for a more satisfying reasoning or just something, but she understood that this was the unfortunate reality of the shinobi way: sometimes things change when you don’t want them to. 

And he didn’t owe her anything really. It wasn’t like they had established themselves as more than just a hook-up, but classifying their relationship as simply “fuck-buddies” felt too… one-dimensional. 

At the very least, he seemed visibly unhappy with the situation too, and somehow, that made it a bit easier. 

That last week together before Sukea’s mission was bittersweet. It seemed like he was intent on retracing every inch of her figure, as if burning it into his memory, and she was doing the same. It was almost feverish, the way they brought each other to pieces time and time again, prying every reaction they could out of one another. When they eventually parted ways on the last evening, she smiled slightly wistfully, kissed him on the cheek, and that was that. 

—

After Tsunade steps down, things end up becoming almost unmanageably busy with the changeover in leadership, and Sakura takes full advantage of it to put Sukea out of her mind. Ino seems to notice that she’s a little bit down lately and insists on setting Sakura up on a few dates, but… 

The guy is leaning in to kiss her at the end of the evening when she realizes that, although the chunin is perfectly nice and attractive, he’s too short and too dull, his smile too symmetrical and his conversation too tactful. Sukea was respectful too, but, well… he knew when not to be. She misses that quirked grin and the way he teased her incessantly, even if it drove her half-mad. 

A week later, she goes out on a date with Kiba and he’s the exact opposite, brash and vulgar, boasting on and on about all the latest missions he’s completed. She zones out within the first few minutes, mentally plotting a way to get back at Ino (just because two people are single at the same time does not mean they are compatible). Strangely, she finds her eyes drawn to Kiba’s mouth while he’s talking and it takes a few seconds before she realizes that she’s staring at his teeth. In particular, the extra sharp, pointed ends that remind her of someone else’s (although Kiba’s are more fang-like). She’s hit with a sudden pang and makes up some arbitrary excuse to get out of there as fast as possible, picking up an extra shift at the hospital to keep herself distracted. 

Ino sets her up with a few others, but she can’t get any farther than a few random kisses with a few random dates without remembering Sukea’s lips. The way his kisses alternated between teasing and dominating, the fire that scorched her each and every time his mouth was pressed against her. The way his body felt, lean and sculpted as if it was molded to fit hers perfectly. The way his hands unreservedly claimed her body over and over until she was utterly spent, boneless in those dorky shuriken patterned sheets. 

He was frustrating and flirty and drove her up the wall and fucked her on the wall… and she misses him.

Sakura stops going out on the depressing dates and devotes herself single-mindedly to work. There’s always plenty to do at the hospital, and with the uptick in requests for her on ANBU missions, she has no shortage of diversions.

She keeps busy and tries her best not to think about pointy canines and cute beauty marks. 

—

When Kakashi reveals himself to be Sukea, she doesn’t know how to react. 

Certain things click into place, and part of her feels like an idiot for not connecting the pieces sooner while the rest of her is just plain bewildered. 

After their second meeting, she knew that Sukea must have been a disguise, even all those years ago when he “helped” Team Seven try to unmask Kakashi. Once she realized that Sukea was someone else though, she had assumed that either he was a bored shinobi who was also invested in unmasking the Copy-nin, or he was a friend of Kakashi’s trying to subtly sabotage the genins’ efforts. 

Somehow, the idea never occurred to her that Sukea had actually been Kakashi the whole time, stalking his own shadow clone while the genin chased him across Konoha. 

Frankly, she’d have to be a fool not to have noticed earlier how attractive Kakashi is, just from how she’s known him as Kakashi. It’s hard to tell when the man covers up 95% of his body in baggy clothes, but on rare occasions when he’s shed some of the outer layers for sparring, she can’t help but notice that remarkably toned ass and how his muscles ripple with each movement. He’s an elite ninja, so of course he’d be a perfect physical specimen, but there’s something particularly captivating about the fluidity of his movements.

Now, knowing the way all of him looks, and combining her experiences with Sukea and Kakashi, she feels… special. Almost giddy even. Not only to get to see under his mask, but to have the privilege of knowing just how hot Kakashi is, and who he is, when he isn’t perpetually covering himself up.

On the other hand, he’s her teacher. Former teacher, of course, and only for a few months really with all things considered. For some time now, over half a decade, she’s seen him as, well, not an equal exactly, but not far off. Perhaps somewhere between a mentor, a friend and an acquaintance? Truth be told, she’s never known how to label Kakashi. 

Recent revelations haven’t helped. 

The visions of the two are superimposed over one another and her head is spinning as she tries to fit the two seemingly different personalities together. Her silver-haired former sensei has always seemed so distant, somehow inaccessible and isolated from the rest of them. The bit of cloth wasn’t the only mask he wore. It just doesn’t make sense that as Sukea, he could be so open and inviting, so expressive and willing to let loose with her. Spending time with him always felt like a release, an indulgence to be savored. 

Was that really Kakashi? The man with his face constantly buried in porn, aloof and closed-off from others?

But then he smirks at her, and she’s immediately comforted (and aroused) by the sight of Sukea’s wolfish grin, crookedly lopsided and promising all matters of dark things. 

Except it’s Kakashi, it’s been Kakashi. And it’s easy, once she lets it, to feel the magnetic attraction, the connection with this man who makes her feel on fire.

He kisses her sweetly and it’s Kakashi’s familiar lips pressed against hers. It’s his deceptively soft hair that her fingers tangle in for the first time and his calloused hands that hold her close. 

It’s Kakashi, giving up control to her as she pushes him onto the chair and takes him in her mouth. His face that’s contorted in pleasure and his low-pitched moans.

It’s Kakashi, sitting her on the Hokage desk and kneeling in front of her to pleasure her with his hands and mouth. It’s Kakashi, holding her thighs firmly as he coaxes orgasm after orgasm out of her. It’s Kakashi, teasing her and taunting her and making her wail. 

And then he’s filling her up and fucking her slowly, then not so slowly as his thrusts build with a sense of rabid urgency. It’s Kakashi who knows every inch of her body, plucking her strings like a finely tuned instrument and it’s Kakashi who growls her name on his release. 

Fucking her until she forgets that they’re still in the Hokage’s office. 

Fucking her until it seems only natural that pink and silver should be intertwined together.

—

There’s something different between them now – a realness, an honesty that could never come to fruition between Sukea and Kaede. After all, Sakura and Kakashi have a decade’s worth of a relationship behind them. 

They don’t have much time to spend together during daylight hours, what with Kakashi holed up in the Hokage Tower and Sakura trapped in the hospital most of the time, but they make the most of it when they can. He’s started to hide out in her office in order to avoid Shikamaru, bribing her secrecy with dango, and she’s started to pop by his with a hot coffee whenever she has a spare moment. Naturally, this has led to more than a few midday rendezvous… in both of their offices.

He’s the same slouchy, lazy, Kakashi that she’s known for years, yet she can’t help but notice that there’s a lightness to him these days, and the idea that she might be responsible for it makes her smile uncontrollably. (It doesn’t hurt that she can’t remember a time where she felt more content either.)

The first time she stayed the night at his new place was a complete accident. She had been so exhausted from pulling a double-shift at the hospital that she had fallen asleep on his couch while he was making tea, only minutes after arriving on his doorstep. 

The next morning, when she had woken up in the shuriken patterned bedspread, corded arms wrapped loosely around her middle, it took several moments to recall exactly how she got there. As soon as she realized that Kakashi must have carried her to the bed from the other side of the residence, a raging blush began to blossom across her face. 

Of course, it had to be right at this moment that bleary charcoal eyes blinked open lazily, observing her sleepily through a curtain of silver strands and mumbling a faint, “g’morning”. He had yawned, yawned – his jaw stretching taut and pink tongue peeking out. His lips smacked together drowsily before his leg was thrown over her hip, pulling her closer and nuzzling into her neck with a contented sigh. The whole thing was so damn precious that her heart began racing in a frenzy, her throat suddenly as dry as dust. 

Uh-oh. 

When he finally roused to full alertness (a half hour of internal panicking later), she blustered an apology for passing out only for him to chuckle at her in that rich, velvety tone. He kissed her on the forehead placatingly, his voice still thick with sleep as he told her that she could sleep over whenever she wanted. There was a soft, intimate look in his eyes as he commented casually that his new big was too big for one person anyways, and she could tell from his expression that this was his way of saying, ‘stay’. 

This felt different. This felt nice. 

Later, when he pinned her against the mattress, thin rays of sun streaming in from the window and reflecting off his pale skin, she discovered that she likes morning sex even better.

—

It’s been a month since “the reveal,” as Sakura’s taken to calling it in her head. (It’s a bit of a theatrical title perhaps, but the situation feels dramatic enough to warrant the name.) Shikamaru leaves on a diplomatic trip to Suna (a rather convenient excuse for him to visit Temari), and Sakura offers to take over as the Hokage’s assistant for the time being. It’s her own rather convenient excuse to spend time with Kakashi.

He’s extra flirty and playful behind closed doors, quick to kiss her senseless right before a meeting and then leave her wanting until they have a free hour… or half hour. He seems to get off on riling her up and she tries her best to dish it out as much as she’s given, but usually, she’s nowhere near as successful. 

Still, the first couple days are an adjustment, and at times, it’s like pulling teeth to get Kakashi not to whip out Icha Icha whenever he becomes stressed by the workload. Luckily, she is very much up to the task of convincing him, though, she really should have known he would find a way to flip the tables on her.

Let it be known that midway through the week, when Kakashi had suggested an idea to make the day more interesting, a remote-controlled vibrator was decidedly not what she had in mind. 

The small, silicone toy advertised itself as having ‘four levels of varied intensity’, designed to be ‘discreet’ and ‘perfect for letting your partner take control’. 

Kakashi had goaded her into the idea with dizzying, thoroughly distracting kisses and promises of:

‘It’ll be fun, Sakura-chan’

‘Just a little tease to liven up a drab day of work’

She can’t remember why she ended up agreeing to it, but it’s probably because her brain always seems to turn to mush around him lately. 

It’s early the next day when he pulls her into a small hallway closet, kissing her silly until she’s horribly flushed, horny and breathless. With a smirk, his hand slips under the hem of her underwear, rubbing at her clit until she’s panting, and then gathering her wetness on his fingers before inserting the vibrator into her pussy. She shivers at the sensation of sudden fullness, and though it isn’t all that big, she can feel it every time she takes a step. 

The absolute bastard had proceeded to suck his fingers clean around a mischievous grin before smacking her lightly on the ass, winking, and heading out to a meeting that he’s already 20 minutes late for. She spends five more minutes silently cursing him (and herself) before she’s able to pull her shit together and go about her various responsibilities for the rest of the morning. 

—

Hours go by with her feeling on edge, just waiting for the thing to turn on. Throughout the morning, he’ll catch her eye and give her a knowing smirk, and her stomach will churn with anticipation, and then…nothing happens. 

She had imagined that he would mess with her during a break, or maybe while they were working by themselves in the office, but the rest of the day simply continues on as usual.

It’s starting to piss her off. Her muscles are randomly spasming around the damn thing whenever she readjusts, and she’s been leaking all day due to the unresolved tension. She’s irrepressibly needy, which turns into fuming at Kakashi because she’s horny, which then transforms into being straight up pissed because she isn’t getting off. 

By the time the council meeting rolls around, she’s stewing silently, the matter deliberately shoved to the back of her mind while she studiously records each topic being discussed. The meeting is hopelessly dull and she finds herself only half paying attention while the elders complain about this or that, whining about the “progressive” changes being implemented in the village and dredging on and on about the importance of “traditionalism”. Really, these old foogies needed to be replaced and soon.  

Fifteen minutes in, when she least expects it (because they are in a council meeting), the previously static vibrator hums to life with a gentle pulsing sensation. Her eyes widen imperceptibly as she stiffens, her hand tightening its grip on her pencil just shy of snapping it. 

She glances condemningly towards Kakashi, who's seated to her right, but he’s the picture of innocence, looking bored if anything as his head rests on his right palm. His left fingers are tapping aimlessly on the desk while he interjects into the conversation every now and then.

Sakura exhales slowly, trying to refocus on the discussion. It’s a joke, right? There’s no way he would do this now… He’ll probably turn it off any second and after the meeting she’ll yell at him and then he’ll fuck her on the desk or something. Yeah. Just a joke.

But…

She’s jotting down notes about the trade routes with Iwa when the vibrations suddenly increase to a steady thrum and her hand slips, accidentally scrawling a thick line through her notes. 

Now, she can feel the vibrations buzzing up her hips, her arousal surging as she squirms in her seat, shifting her weight from side-to-side as subtly as she can. Her panties are uncomfortably soaked and she can feel the dampness seeping through the fabric of her underwear into her dress. 

A quick glimpse to the right shows Kakashi inhaling deeply through his mask, and she knows he can smell how wet she is. It’s humiliating and yet all she wants is more. She’s going to kill him once the meeting ends but she’s also going to kill him if she doesn’t orgasm in the next ten minutes. 

As if sensing her irritation, his left hand moves discreetly to lightly brush against her knee under the table. The faint contact sends shivers up her spine, and she instinctively presses her leg into his touch. His palm starts gliding up and down her thighs with a teasing pressure, his fingers playing with the hem of her dress, grazing higher and higher… 

There’s a slight shift in the fabric of his mask that she’s certain is hiding a smug curl of his lips as he nods along with whatever inane drabble the elders are prattling on about. Sakura’s not sure what’s even being discussed anymore – she hasn’t been able to concentrate since he turned the damn thing on. 

 Out of the corner of her eye, she watches him slowly reach into the pocket of his robes with his other hand, and she knows that he’s purposefully showing her the movement. To prepare her? Taunt her?? Gods, this was not how she thought the day would go. 

This time, when the vibrations increase, she’s certain that the people sitting next to her would be able to hear it if they weren’t all well into their nineties. But she knows Kakashi certainly can. 

She chews on her lip to fight back the moan clawing at her throat, now completely drenched and feeling feverish under his heated gaze as it bores into her intermittently. She crosses her legs, trying to get some friction to ease the escalating ache, but his hand quickly intercepts, forcefully prying her legs apart. 

His hand sprawls across her upper thigh, fingers digging into her skin as he squeezes, preventing her from moving an inch. Her nose twitches and she nearly huffs in frustration, because despite how good his palm feels on her bare skin, she’s being driven to the edge and then purposefully kept there. 

She’s certain that there’s a visible flush coloring her cheeks and can feel the beads of sweat building on her brow. Kakashi’s shoulders are tense too, and at the very least, it gives her a small thread of satisfaction to see him wound up right along with her. 

Yet…it's been maybe thirty minutes into a meeting that’s supposed to last a full hour, and these gatherings are the type that commonly run over schedule. She doesn’t know how long she’s going to last at this rate.

The tempo is upped again and she flinches, nearly jumping out of her chair as the vibrator hums away at a wicked pace. Her fingernails dig into her palms, the minor pain barely keeping her from shouting out as her walls start clenching around the damn thing reflexively, trying to chase her own orgasm regardless of the impropriety of the situation. 

She’s about to excuse herself and finish herself off in the bathroom, because fuck Kakashi, when the bastard starts coughing out of nowhere.

The elders pause their boring spiel on something or other, turning to the Rokudaime with puzzled looks. “Are you alright, Hokage-sama?” one of the council members asks in a concerned tone.

“Mahh, I just feel a little off,” he responds in a scratchy drawl. Needless to say, he knows what the raspy sound does to her and she sees a spark of something devilish flare in his eyes before it quickly vanishes. He scrunches his nose and massages his throat pitifully as he continues the charade. 

His gaze flickers to her with a slight pout, “Doctor Haruno, do you mind stepping outside for a quick check-up?”

The council members all turn to look at her expectantly, yet the vibrations still haven’t stopped. She doubts her ability to open her mouth without something wildly indecent slipping out so she merely gives a short nod.

Kakashi stands up in a slouch, hands shoved into his pockets. Blessedly, the vibrations are dialed down a notch, but still very much present. 

He watches her closely, a hungry look in his eyes as she (shakily) gets up and walks to the door. She channels years of shinobi training and experience to absolutely not react to the way the change of position affects the vibrator. Even so, Kakashi notices the way her eyebrows pinch together slightly because of course he does and the fucker hides a smirk behind another cough. 

—

They exit the room and he’s quick to flash them to his empty office, slamming her up against the door and yanking his mask down to bury his nose in the crook of her neck. His kisses are scorching against her skin as he nips and sucks, making her feel utterly unhinged as the vibrator continues to thrum rhythmically. 

“Fuck,” he growls against the shell of her ear, and she whines as the throaty sound makes her leak even more. “I couldn’t stay in there another moment just smelling how wet you are.”

She suddenly recalls that this was all his fault and starts to scold him, although the malice from her tone has long since disappeared, “Kakashi, what were you thi–” 

He cuts her off, crashing his lips against hers aggressively and making her weak in the knees. 

His arm curls around her back possessively, pressing her into his chest as his erection grinds against her, the bulge not visible through the layers of his cloak yet very tangible against her core. The combined stimulus of the vibrator and the insistent pressure of his cock rocking against her is the final straw. She buries her face in the thick fabric of his robe as her vision splotches, fingers firmly clenching his shoulders while she shudders violently against him. 

He groans softly into her hair, his fingers carding through her strands delicately. 

“Fuck, Sakura, let’s go home.”

Even in the midst of her foggy, post-orgasmic high, the word home sends a thrill through her veins.

“Wait, what about the meeting?” she questions anxiously as her rational brain kicks into gear.

He steps back with a dangerous glint to his expression as his hands speedily flicker through a set of signs. Two more Kakashi’s poof into view, and now there are six stormy dark eyes trailing up and down her flushed form, all of them gazing at her intently like she’s a dessert to be devoured. 

As if in sync, they all take a step towards her and she nearly squeaks because – fuck – one horny Kakashi is enough to drive her mad in and of itself. This? This is indecent. She’s burning under the full-force of the predatory, promising stares of three Hatake Kakashi’s.

And the vibrator is still buzzing.

The original Kakashi glares at the clones, gesturing impatiently towards the door with an arched eyebrow, “Get to it then”. The clones look thoroughly unsatisfied with the arrangements, but after a sharp look from the original, one of them transforms into Sakura and they reluctantly head back towards the council meeting. 

Kakashi turns to her with a crooked smile, grabbing her by the elbow and tugging her against his torso once more.

“Problem solved,” he says cheerfully. 

Scowling, she nips at his bottom lip a little spitefully, slipping her hands under his robes to trace across his broad chest. “We,” she starts in what she hopes sounds reprimanding between fevered kisses, “are going to discuss the meaning of time and place.”

He chuckles in that mouthwateringly rich tone, “Sure…later.” Gaze darkening, his voice drops an octave, “I can’t wait any longer to taste you.”

—

They flash into the Hokage’s residence (appearing quite conveniently in the bedroom) and Kakashi hastily slips off his robes before turning to her. In a matter of seconds, his fingers are nimbly tugging down her dress and sliding her out of the profusely soaked panties. Her bra is unlatched and tossed off to the side before he pushes her back onto the bed eagerly. 

He immediately crawls over her, his head buried between her thighs as he puts his mouth on her dripping folds. His tongue caresses her with flicks and licks, and she quivers under the contact, the combined stimulation overwhelming her senses. 

“K-kashi, the vibrator!” she whines agitatedly. 

“Oh, you want more?” he teases with a suggestive smirk and fuck she loves hates how sexy his damn smile is. She never would have thought that the mask was hiding such adorable dimples. 

With a large palm, he cups her core directly over where the vibrator is inserted and she wails, writhing under him as her wetness coats her inner thighs in a dewy sheen.

“So fucking wet, Sakura,” he rasps in a roughened voice. 

He strokes her relentlessly, alternating between rubbing tight circles over her bundle of nerves and dipping down to swirl tauntingly at her entrance. He groans, sounding vaguely pained as he mutters, “Gods, we’re doing that everyday.”

“No fucking—a-ah!!”

His fingers slide into her opening easily with how ridiculously slick she is. 

“Yesss, fuck,” he hisses between gritted teeth, the words laced with an edginess that makes her tremble.

She’s absolutely ruining the sheets, an entire day of drawn-out foreplay making her drip uncontrollably onto the bedspread. Her eyes flutter shut as his finger hooks gingerly around the vibrator before slowly pulling it out. She feels abruptly empty for a moment until two slender fingers return to take the toy’s place. The vibrator is nice, but Kakashi is infinitely more dexterous. His fingers plunge in and out at a measured speed, knuckles curving and thumb tapping against her clit. 

Her breath hitches at the slight growl behind his words, “Dripping all day and driving me insane.” 

One hand moves to pinch her nipple, twisting the hardened bud between his fingers as she arches upwards into his hand. 

“Kashi,” she whimpers feebly, feeling woefully out-of-sorts. 

“I love seeing you like this,” he praises indulgently, his tone sinfully silky. He continues fondling her breast, humming appreciatively against her skin as he kisses his way across her collarbone. 

She moans softly as he shifts to tease the thus far neglected nipple with his tongue, at the same time thrusting deeper into her entrance with his fingers, his voice muffled as he murmurs into her skin, “Fuck, I love you.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Kakashi tenses, seeming to realize the significance of what he had said. Messy silver strands tickle against her skin from where he’s lingering over her neck.

Sakura places a hand on his chest, pushing him back a little so that she can look into his terrified charcoal eyes. He stares at her and gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously as the tips of his ears redden and a pink flush tinges his cheeks. His mouth starts moving, but there’s no sound coming out, and it promptly shuts, lips pressing together into a thin line. 

“Kakashi?” she prompts in a slow, questioning tone.

He blinks twice and clears his throat before responding in a slightly uneven tone, “Yes, Sakura?”

“Did you just…say you love me?”

His eyes dart frantically to the side and she becomes mildly concerned that he’s thinking about poofing away. Her fingers weave into his hair to hold him steady, forcing him to meet her gaze. She’s a verified mess of anxiety, but exhales slowly before speaking her next five words in a quietly determined tone, 

“Because…I love you too.”

His eyes go wide, mouth parting in slight disbelief. “You…?”

All nervousness fades from her mind at his incredulity. She almost laughs, though manages to hold it in as she suspects that wouldn’t go over well. Instead, she smacks him lightly across the chest and furrows her eyebrows as she comments in a fierce tone, “You moron, of course I love you.”

He seems visibly taken aback, but the astonishment soon fades from his features, turning affectionate as he looks down at her. “Mahh Sakura-chan, don’t you know it’s rude to call the man you love a moron?” The words come out slightly strangled, but fully sincere, sending goosebumps across her skin. 

She’s grinning like a madwoman as she responds in a mocking drawl of her own, “Mahhh Ka-ka-shi, don’t you know it’s rude to stop while pleasuring the woman you love?” 

He grins, and butterflies erupt in her stomach at the sight of his wide smirk, all pearly whites and sharp canines on display. 

He brings his face to hover directly over hers, and his breath fans warmly over her lips as he speaks in a dark purr, “Hmmm, that was quite rude of me wasn’t it?”

He presses a gentle kiss to her lips, leaning forward on his elbows as she cups the back of his head to guide him closer. His nose nudges against hers as he kisses her sweetly, so so tenderly and lovingly that she feels her heart stutter. They break apart for a moment, both of them breathing heavily, jade eyes shining brightly as they stare into warm charcoal orbs. 

“I’ll say,” she quips breathlessly. 

He kisses her once more, and when they pull away, he smiles in satisfaction at her thoroughly flushed cheeks. “Do you forgive me?” he questions in a lilting tone, head slanting to the side in a wry grin. 

She reaches up to comb her fingers through his hopelessly disheveled hair, trying to put on her best unaffected expression. (The effort is utterly ruined by the fact that her beaming smile refuses to disappear from her face.)

“That depends…” she responds in a light, teasing tone, “are you going to fuck me now?” 

She bites her bottom lip, watching his expression darken noticeably. 

A wicked glint enters his eyes as he ducks down to lavish her with kisses, growling against her skin, “Yes, ma’am.”