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bridgetotheskyyy · 23 days

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chapter five.

masterlist

Chapter summary: Your father arrives, the end of the month draws near, and you and Gaara hit some milestones . . .

Chapter warnings: 18+, smut (THATS RIGHT YOU GUYSS), lots of angst, physical sickness

Word count: 12k

A/N: full notes on ao3! Pls let me know if you find any errors tumblr hates me (and I hate tumblr <3333)

Read on ao3 here:

You knew it was him, though his back was to you. For you had been walking behind him all your life.

An entourage of personal guards surrounded your father. Cyclone. The strongest band of ninja from the Oasis village. All of them carried shields fashioned like scorpion pedipalps. Face masks covered all but their eyes. In the center was your father. The elders listened with rapt attention as he raconteured some epic story containing a dragon with arms outstretched and a stentorian voice. Baki sat among them, his eye shifting between you and Father. Neither Kankuro nor Temari were present yet.

“Ahh,” said Ebizo. “And here is Lord Kazekage now.”

Your father turned to see who had come, his eyes widening underneath the disk of his village head hat; they were devoid of the madness you were accustomed to seeing in them.

“(Y/n) …” Father ignored Gaara to marvel at you. He strolled, arms wide, to you. “My angel.”

He roped arms around you; you suppressed a flinch. He parted to caress your face. “I’ve been blind without the light of your smile,” he said.

“Father …” Your voice was high with hope. “I’ve … I’ve missed you.”

“Not nearly as much as I have missed you, my star.” His voice hadn’t been this gentle in addressing you since you were a child, lulled to sleep by the bounce of his knee. “How I managed in the dark, I will never know.”

Gaara bowed to him. “I have hoped to meet you for a very long time, Lord Boutoku.”

“Oh, son-in-law.” Your father strode toward Gaara, arms ready to embrace him. “You are the splitting image of the fourth Kazekage himself.”

He enveloped Gaara as everyone watched, not sure of what to say.

“Come,” Father urged. “There’s much to discuss.”

Your father’s Cyclone parted down the middle to admit the three of you. You followed Gaara to the table, but your father remained on his feet.

“It is a shame Lady Ikanago is absent,” Ebizo said. “She would have relished this the very most.”

“There will be more than enough time for me to become acquainted with the Sand’s dignitaries, surely,” your father said.

“Lord Boutoku was just telling us about the customs of your village,” Baki told you.

“Yes,” your father said. “Now —“

The door burst open. Temari and Kankuro came through.

“Don’t start without us —!”

“Kankuro, get off my foot —!”

“Ahh,” your father said, “and this must be Lord Kazekage’s eldest sister.”

Their eyes widened before they hastened to compose themselves, hands going behind their backs.

“Uh — yes.” Temari bowed. “A pleasure.”

“It’s very nice to see you again, Lord Boutoku,” Kankuro said.

“The feeling is mutual,” your father said. “Come, come. Now that we’re all here, we can discuss the wedding at last. But first.” Your father clapped his hands, and a servant knelt at his side, offering something in his hands. Your father took it to give to you. “Your mother made me promise to pass this on to you when the time came, and I infringe upon her memory if I withhold it from you a moment longer.”

A small velvet box. You opened it: a ring.

Your mother’s ring.

“It’s beautiful,” Gaara said.

You gawked at the miraculous rock for a few seconds longer before slowly raising your head to your father. He had loved no one in the world more than her. Hideo a close second (and you last, probably). Warmth blanketed over your entire being as Father squeezed your hand.

“I am sure Lord Kazekage had his own plans for securing a ring. I hope he does not mind,” he said, eyes soft on you.

“Not at all,” Gaara interjected. “The Oasis is very loyal to its traditions; I suspected something like this may happen.”

And he gently took the ring box from your hand as the members of the council watched, entranced by the sight of Gaara taking the ring from the box and sliding it over your finger.

You raised your hand to the light; the ring shone like a star he’d pricked from the sky just for your finger. You observed the scene, as if it had been plucked from one of your daydreams. Gaara before you, your father blessing it all, Kankuro, Temari, and Baki smiling.

“I’m … so happy,” You said, choked with emotion. “Thank you, Father, I — Thank you …!”

“What a blessed union,” Ebizo said. “Hopefully, Lord Boutoku will be open to answering a few of our questions?”

“Of course,” Father boomed. “Of course!”

Your father spoke of the traditions of your village. Dual colors were decided on, a mixture of the Sand’s beige with your village’s blue, along with the special foods that have become specialties in the Oasis. By the end, there was a layout for the reception, who would be coming and then seated where.

It was surprisingly fun for you. Temari had taken it upon herself to bring a binder to keep the information safe and at hand. You were waiting for your father to pause in the event of possible objections, but it obviously wasn’t necessary; the council was besotted with your father, hanging on his every word as he circled the council’s oval table as though lecturing them.

“Now,” Father sighed dramatically with a pat of his thigh, “if the council would oblige me, the trip here was excessive, and I am not as young as I used to be …”

“Of course,” Ryusa said. “A period of rest is warranted now.”

A Sand guard appeared by Gaara’s side to whisper, “It’s time, Lord Kazekage.”

Gaara nodded as you frowned, confused. It hit you: Matsuri.

“Gaara,” You murmured. “I want to come. I know this will be hard for you.”

“And I would like you to be with us.” Gaara lowered his head. “But perhaps it’s better for you to stay and reconnect with your father.”

A few seconds and you said, “Okay.”

“And,” Gaara smiled, “perhaps excise a few details?”

You chuckled. “Will do.”

You gave Gaara’s arm a reassuring squeeze before he raised from his seat, Kankuro and Temari following him.

“I’ll send one of them to tell you how things went,” Gaara said.

You nodded and watched the three of them leave. By the time you turned your attention back to the council, it was disbanding. Your father came to you.

“I finally have you to myself, my dove,” he said. “Lord Kazekage has fixed me with my own quarters. Come along. We have much to talk about.”

You didn’t know what to expect as you entered your father’s private room. Similar to yours, save for the luxuries yours didn’t possess (which, you were sure, was Temari’s doing in an effort to impress him). A fireplace crackled in the quiet space, dousing amber light on the sitting room floor as the curtains were drawn. Two plush loveseats faced each other, separated by a rug and a coffee table. A large bed sectioned off in the corner.

Your father followed you in, Chuuyou on his tail.

“These knees.” Your father sank into a couch with a pained sigh. “Never get old, (Y/n). Promise me that.”

“I promise,” You said simply to obey.

“Chuuyou.” Father turned to him. “I applaud you for protecting my daughter, as you have. You have made both your village and head proud.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Chuuyou bowed his head, both out of respect and, though he could not hide it from you, to conceal his guilty expression.

He’s still thinking about the beach.

Seconds passed in silence. You sat across from Father, feeling as though it was what he was waiting for, and remained stock still. Another sigh from him. He appeared aged in a way he never had to you before.

“Despite all my orders,” he said after a century, “you still have not tried to poison him.”

Oh no. You balled your fists in your lap. You shrank into yourself, desperate to make yourself smaller.

“I’m sorry.” You hung your head. “I’m sorry I disobeyed, I … I just couldn’t.”

“… Thank the gods.”

You looked up. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I have been rash.” Father ran a hand over his face. “There is more benefit to you marrying the Kazekage than there could ever be in disposing of him.”

“But …” Hope, once again, sat tentatively inside of you, unsure of its place in this conversation. “What about Hideo?”

There it was — the insane look common in your father’s eye rushed into his irises, all for it to disappear as quickly as it had come. Father lowered his gaze, his entire being depressed and deflated, and for a moment you felt the full weight of your father’s losses like it was yours. And in a way, it was.

“I have lost a great deal, by living in the past,” your father said. “I refuse to lose anything else … It was a mistake to send you here under such nefarious pretenses.”

“Father …” You were so quick to tears lately and now was no different. You couldn’t believe it. Relief and sympathy raised within you. The vice, wrapped around your heart always, fell away.

“Just tell me one thing,” he said, looking up at you finally. “Do you think you may come to love him?”

You thought, now, of Gaara, and the unobstructed path that now led to him.

“Yes.”

Matsuri was relocated to the Sunagakure prison later that day. Multiple accounts of her espousing her jealousy and displeasure of Gaara’s imminent marriage to you had reached a variety of ears, and, with all the evidence against her and no more cards to play, her guilt was obvious.

In the midst of all of this, all you wanted to do was go to Gaara — to be there for him and because, freed from your bond of violence, you ached for him — but you fought against it. Surely what he needed now was time to breathe. Despite knowing so little of her, you knew Matsuri had been his student, and to watch her fall into treason due to personal feelings had to be traumatic.

You just wanted to be out of the way. You couldn’t shake the feeling this was partially your fault to begin with. You kept to your room, unsure of what to do with all this free time and lack of anxiety. You couldn’t believe you were free. You admired the little piece of sky sparkling on your finger. You only had the slightest recollections of your mother wearing it as she held you, tending to your tiny body and needs.

You held your ring finger with a tenderness mirroring hers, sat at your windowsill as evening sighed into night, the soft whistling of the wind brushing past a village at peace, when a knock ripped you from your reverie.

You straightened. “Come in.”

You expected a maid who’d come to tell you dinner was ready, but —

“Are you all right?”

You startled. Gaara shut the door behind him, never taking his eyes off you, and let himself into your room. He was without his Kage robes, dressed in his trench coat.

“Gaara,” You said, astonished. A pause.

“I’ve not seen you all day.”

“I thought it best to stay away,” You said. “Are you all right?”

His eyes rounded with clarity. “You’ve heard.”

“Maids like to gossip.”

He was quiet for a second. He looked away. “It is done.”

“I am so sorry.” You removed yourself from the window seat and crossed the room to him. You folded your arms, having it awkward to have them simply dangle there, and you weren’t sure if Gaara would like to be touched.

Gaara’s head hung still. He looked so aggrieved, tiredness lining his face.

“What happened?” You asked carefully.

“There was an abundance of evidence,” Gaara began. “The elders were especially hard on her. Matsuri cried a great deal.” His hands clenched at his sides. “She kept saying it wasn’t her and that she’d been framed, yet there was nothing she could do or say to defend herself.”

You sat on your bed. “Sit with me,” You said, patting the space beside you.

When he did, he continued: “I forgive her.” Gaara turned to you. “Please do not let this taint your view of who she is. She is still a very talented and gifted shinobi.”

“I won’t.” You shook your head. Despite the anger you felt for Matsuri at the last meeting with the council, it had long since passed, and all you felt was a hollowness for the man beside you, his aggrieved bewilderment your own.

Gaara gazed into his lap, invisible brows furrowed by sorrow. “I … am still perplexed as to how this could have happened … Matsuri … But I also know love is a powerful force that can make people act contrary to themselves.” His hand inched toward yours, resting on your lap. “I know because … though I felt sympathy for Matsuri, I feel as though my heart wasn’t with her.” He looked up at you. “It was with you.”

“Gaara …” You held his hand. You were beyond flattered, and, with the new conditions you were under, you felt you could really lean into the reserved but true affection Gaara was giving you. You, now, lived in the serene turquoise of his eyes as the faintest of smiles crossed his face.

“I wanted to return to you to be by your side. All I could think about was you today, and the ring … Our future.” He rose from the bed, your hand still in his. “Come. There is something I’d like to show you.”

“Of course,” You said, curiosity lilting your voice.

Gaara led you down hallways. You realized you had never been to this area of the palace before. It was a more secluded part of the palace, quieter; nothing but a simple vase potting an enormous plant by the new, mysterious doorway you were led through.

He led you to a door, and all clicked into place for you.

His room. Gaara’s room.

At that moment, you realized you had never actually been to Gaara’s room. You couldn’t even tell anyone where it was in the palace. Sweat pressed against your palms. Warm light filled the room, but it was bare save for a simple wooden desk, a lamp, a bed, a carpet — but what caught your attention was the collection of cacti on the desk.

Definitely Gaara’s room.

He let you in first and you heard him close the door behind him as you took it in with a small smile.

You turned to him. “What do you want me for?”

“I invited you here because I wished to see you in private,” Gaara said. “I want to be alone with you. I’ve …missed having you by my side since the tent. I’ve never had anyone so close to me for so long.” Color came to Gaara’s cheeks. “As a couple,” he began, approaching you, “we should be sharing a room — and a bed.”

You turned to it, conspicuously wide enough for the two of you. You stared. Nothing was keeping you from Gaara now.

“Then perhaps we should make it truly ours.”

Gaara searched your face, your meaning lost on him, as you approached.

This time, you kissed him.

You cupped the back of his head, where crimson hair ran between your fingers. When Gaara reciprocated, your legs weakened, but he kept you steady with all the strength with which you’d been familiarized.

You had not realized your feet were moving backwards until the slight jab at the back of your knees.

With a whimper, you fell backward. Gaara quickly caught you. You sat on the bed, scooting away from him, which he took as a beckon to follow. You sighed when your head pressed into the pillows. Gaara blanketed your body with his, his lips possessing yours a second time.

You moaned, opened your mouth for his tongue to come play with yours. You welcomed the pressure of his body on top of you, your hands once again losing themselves in his hair as he flicked and nibbled against your lips.

“Show me,” Gaara moaned against your jawline, his tone raw and commanding as your hands scaled his back. “Show me everything from the books. I want to know everything.”

“That could take a while,” You hummed, your lips parting as he nibbled at your flushed skin. But we have time. We have all the time in the world.

“Then you should start now.” Gaara nibbled on your neck. Your heels dug into his calves as his wet tongue swept over the vulnerable skin.

You fumbled, pulling yourself out from under Gaara to work your shirt over your head, grappling with the deja vu you felt as you tossed it aside. You couldn’t wait. You couldn’t. Gaara awkwardly fumbled with the buttons of his trench coat until you assisted.

So many layers. You shed your pants away, now down to your underwear. You had never let another see you this naked before, let alone nude, besides your maids, and there were no secrets amongst women. But somehow, you were not nervous as you unhooked your bra. Gaara’s motions had stilled to a stop. Flutters went straight to your cunt with the way his eyes scanned you, hungry, as it slowly unfolded before him.

Your panties hung around one bare ankle when Gaara brushed a hand over your leg. He hooked fingers under your panties to pull them away himself and onto the floor.

“I want to touch you.” His tone was impossibly husky, low. His hand traveled from your leg to your inner thigh.

You laid back down for him. You were completely bare for him now, you realized, as his eyes roved hungrily over your naked flesh. Gaara’s head settled over your chest, pressing kisses against the valley of your breast, one hand preoccupied with your nipple —

“Mm …!” You arched into him. Gaara’s teeth grazed against another nipple. His curious tongue swirled against the rising bud. You heard the buckles of his uniform unfastening as your head sunk in the pillows, and you knew he was in the midst of shedding the remainder of his gear as he busied with your breasts. His naked skin pressed against your thighs. Your cunt throbbed, maddening you to be touched.

Thankfully, Gaara’s curiosity worked in your favor; his lips traveled down your skin, brushing over a nipple before sliding past the bones of your ribcage. His hands hooked over the fat of your thighs, the soft brush of your pubic hair grazing his chin.

“I remember, in the books …” Gaara’s thumb gently spread one lip, your juices surely leaking over. “The man tastes the woman. I want to taste you, too.”

Your heart skipped; Gaara’s hot breath hit your lips. “He licks up the valley of her lips …” .

You gasped. You realized what he was doing; he was quoting Icha Icha.

His lips flicked experimentally at your folds. You flinched, a knee knocking his head.

He paused to examine you. “Does it feel good?”

“Yes, Gaara …” You gripped one of Gaara’s shoulders to compel him forward, excitement causing you to flutter. “It feels so good …”

Not needing to be told twice, he sank down, gave your folds a series of licks. You could feel him pause to taste your juices before starting again.

“Good …” he murmured. “So good … If I’d known …”

“Keep going …!”

You lost a hand in his hair. Gaara was eating you. It was unreal. His hot breath on your lips, his open palms spreading your thighs open, was something right out of your wildest dreams. He ate you gently, experimenting with this new territory that was you. You were more than happy to oblige, spreading your legs wider to become more accessible to him in a way you have never been with any man before him. You gripped the sheets at his sudden kisses, the unsuspected swipes of his tongue. His fingers gently spread and kneaded at your labia, exploring you and overstimulating you in the process.

Gaara came up, accidentally brushing a nose against your clit —

You cried out. You pressed him into your cunt. A quick learner, he tested the tip of his tongue against the nub, coaxing another series of moans from you. Your eyes doubled back as he latched on to your clit, the suction of his lips driving you wild.

You writhed underneath him. Your hands rubbed over his hands as he lapped up your juices.

“Oh — use — Gaara, you have to use your — your fingers, oh!”

Gaara paused momentarily, as though something had occurred to him.

“She welcomed his fingers like old friends into her heat …”

You felt his thumb brush against your folds. It pressed farther in until it breached the entrance of your hole.

“Gaara …!” You pulled at his hair.

He grunted but did nothing to stop you, teasing your entrance with his thumb as his tongue swirled around your clit. Your legs trembled, your back arching off the bed and into his willing mouth. Your juices seeped past the fat of your behind, only for Gaara to reach down to collect it with his tongue.

His breath quickened as he replaced his thumb with a finger, pressing it in —

“Ahh! Ha—aha!” A familiar tightness was tormenting your abdomen. Close, close. You tried to think through your haze; if you could just get him to … “Another, please, and — and curl them up, oh —“

“I will …!”

He obeyed with a soft growl, adding another finger into your slippery heat. Your strangled breath coincided with his fingers sinking in. So full, but not enough. You ached for more, bucking your hips in desperation. As instructed, he brought his fingers up in beckoning —

“Aah!”

Gaara’s tongue returned to your clit, curling his fingers again and again, your juices seeping, slipping past his digits. You rocked into his fingers, finding a rhythm with him.

He sucked and kissed your clit, fingers beckoning one final time —

You cried out, clutching at him with both hands. You clenched over his fingers, the walls around them becoming rougher and tighter as your climax came. You shuddered, biting your lip. Gaara was not stopping, inciting wave after wave through you until you plateaued. Pleasure crashed back down around you, forcing you limp against the bed.

“Gaara!” You warned, pushing him away. “Stop, stop! I — I can’t —!”

Immediately, he pulled his mouth and fingers away. You fell to your side, squeezing your legs. You panted, face hot, and in your haze wondered, in the future, if he would do this to you: edge you without realizing — or maybe on purpose? Finger and fuck your poor insides to make you a fumbling mess, as long as it was what you liked. If you told him, he would do it …

A second or so more and Gaara’s hand brushed against your elbow. “Was that all right?”

You turned over your shoulder to look at him, stars in your eyes. “Incredible.” You twisted to face him, kissing his lips, tasting and smelling yourself on him.

It wasn’t long before you were throbbing again, desperate for more contact. Your overactive imagination made it so. He embraced you in the kiss, his warm cock poking at you. You broke the kiss, panting as you brushed him aside to admire him.

You salivated at the sight of him. Your dream to have him twitching and dripping his seed down your mouth was not gone, but … but you couldn’t wait any longer.

Besides, there would be more time for that.

“I need you inside of me,” You said.

He seemed to understand. You laid back down for him to topple you. Visions of the future — you topping him, bouncing atop his cock, swallowing his seed from under his table— filled your mind. Many fantasies that had already been revisited during your alone times. There would be so much time now. You just needed him.

You helped him position himself. Your excited cunt clenched around nothing in anticipation. You bit your lip as his cockhead brushed against your entrance.

“You will tell me,” Gaara began, both an assumption and an order, “if anything hurts.”

You nodded hastily, clinging to his arms. “Of course.”

“Good,” he said, “because I may not be able to stop.”

His cock slid into you, filling you in ways you couldn’t have imagined. You clung to him, nails digging into his forearms as he filled you to capacity.

You nestled in the crook of his neck. “Gaara …”

Pain gave way to pleasure as Gaara succumbed to a thrust. Your head whirled with the novel sensations. The pain was alien but not immense. You stifled stammers out of fear they might encourage him to stop.

Under no circumstances could he stop.

Another thrust —

“Mmfm!” You threw your head back. Gaara’s lips crashed into yours as he moved against you, slapping his hips into yours.

You bit into his neck this time, nibbling at the hickeyed skin soon to bruise there. Gaara’s hand found your clit by accident — and upon seeing your pleased reaction, fixed his hand there and circled it.

He grunted with pleasure as your legs involuntarily wrapped around his waist. His pants puffed into your skin as he pounded you. “Ti — tight …!”

The pain at your core mingled with the pleasure in a way that was strangely pleasant. Your lips part to emit a confused moan-whimper. You wanted more, demanded more. So enamored with Gaara’s plundering of your cunt and his sounds increasing in volume, you didn’t feel him flinch away until his cock had left you.

Gaara pulled away, a hand glued to his cock with eyes squeezed shut. White spent spilled over your inner thigh with a frustrated cry from Gaara. You watched, mesmerized, as ropes of come spilled from his slit and onto your beaded skin.

“Gaara …” You murmured, cunt squeezing around nothing.

He opened his eyes to mere darkened slits, panting as he observed his work.

“I’m — I’m sorry …” He began to come to his senses, realizing what he’d done. “I didn’t know …”

“It’s okay.” You swept his spent from your thigh with scoops of your finger, disposing of it on the fabric. “They’re just sheets.”

Gaara glanced up at you. “Yes, but you …?”

“It’s okay.” You inched toward him. “I can’t get you back up, don’t worry …”

You caressed his cock, now turning flaccid. Gaara took a sharp intake of breath as your grip grew firm. You ran your tongue over your bottom lip before pressing a soft kiss to his head. You tested the waters, taking him into your mouth slowly to see how he would react. Another kiss and swipe of your tongue —

“Nnrgh …” Gaara fisted the sheets.

You resisted a smirk as you drew back, eyes flickering up at him. “Good?”

“Yes …” His breathing had grown labored, no doubt due to the gentle strokes you spoiled his overstimulated shaft with.

You leaned forward to run your tongue over the ridge of his head, outlining the span of it with your tongue. Gaara’s short, nearly inaudible gasps spurred you on to trap his head between your lips and suck.

“Ah, hah-ah —“

You took in more of him, feeling the veins trailing his cock grow more prominent with each new inch into your mouth. You grazed your fingertips over his balls as you dared another inch, hollowing your cheeks to serve his twitching cock.

“All right.” Gaara’s hand laid on your shoulder. “Enough — enough.”

You obeyed and released him with a pop. He was near fully erect now, his cock level with your face. You dug nails into your thigh. It had been so hard for you to resist tweaking your clit with him buried in your mouth.

“If you go on, I won’t last,” he explained.

You nodded and followed the gesture of his gaze back into bed. He returned to his rightful place above you.

“One day soon, I’ll be on top,” You rambled, cheeks red and hot, as Gaara repositioned himself above you. “I can’t imagine how good you’d feel.”

“That day will be today. I only want to get this right now,” Gaara said, and with the tiniest bit of fanfare, placed his head at the tight ring of your cunt and slid inside.

“Aah — AHAA!”

“You seemed to like this before,” Gaara said, voice raised with teasing tilt as he rolled two finger pads into your neglected clit, accompanying his play with deep, slow thrusts.

“Mm …!” You arched into him, your leg spasmed in his hold as he tapped at your clit, Gaara’s fingers dangerously close to where his cock and your opening met. “Gaara!”

“That’s it,” he said. “That’s what I want to hear.” His thrusts quickened inchmeal, but a simple step felt like a mile. “I won’t be a novice for long, (Y/n). I’ll learn everything.”

He slapped a hard thrust into you and stayed there, your hips to his.

“I’ll make you feel everything,” he said as your head fell back into the disarrayed pillows.

You clenched him hard without meaning to. He had to stop talking, otherwise … The encouragement of your cunt was enough to make Gaara rock into you, lustful grunts sounding above you. You closed your and looped arms around his; his clit play would not stop; three fingers tweaked and circled your clit now, your pleasure mounting.

“She finds herself at the peak of climax, and he would be the one to deliver it to her …!”

With a loud moan, you clenched around him tighter and relished the startled moan he gave. His frown rested against your forehead. He seemed to be battling both with the pleasure he felt and the struggle to understand you, how this was possible. Your clit fixed between his two fingers, driving you mad as he filled you again and again with his cock.

Tightness gripped you again, and you knew were you were close. Gaara’s hand abandoned your calf to knead at your breast, eyes closed as he lost himself in you.

“I — I’m …” he panted. “Again …!”

Gaara’s cock twitched inside of you. Close. How could he not be? You knew this wouldn’t last long, even with the help of your mouth. Your mind blared white, bright with the idea of Gaara coming so deep inside of you —

“Ahah …” Your vision gave you another pleasured throb you didn’t need. “Gaara …!”

Stupid, stupid. You couldn’t let him, you couldn’t —

But you wanted it. Wanted him. You gripped on to him tighter. “Do it,” You ordered. “Do it, I want you — want —“

Yet as he slammed into you one final time and the warmth of his come filled you, you could do nothing but hold him closer and take it. His fingers tormented you, the stimulation sending you over the edge as well.

Gaara pulled out, and you felt the slick of his seed seep from your hole onto the sheets. You moaned, clenching around his spent.

So good …

“Amazing …” he remarked, eyes on your drooling cunt.

You tried to wade through the pleasure thrumming through you to understand your mistake, but couldn’t. The after-sex buzz proved too profound. You could hardly register it as a mistake at all, what with how good you felt, pleasurable aches simmering underneath your flushed skin. You dragged Gaara close for another kiss.

Once released, Gaara said, “I’ve never experienced this level of closeness with anyone …” He wrapped arms around you. He lowered his gaze to your beaded clavicle while you played with the damp ends of his rustled hair. “It is strange, but wonderful, too.”

“Neither have I.” You grinned. He’s so grateful. You admired the light smile that came to Gaara’s face. “Was I good?”

Gaara glanced up. “Is it possible for someone not be to be good?”

You couldn’t discern your blush from the natural post-coitus flush you had. “It’s possible.” You wished you hadn’t said it; Gaara’s brows knit together, his eyes wandering with thoughts. Apparently, you’d given him a new worry. “But you were amazing,” You hastened to add.

His expressions softened. “Good. I’m glad.” He watched you pepper his hand and arms with kisses. “I want to be as good as the men in the books.”

“I think you’ve already achieved that, my love.”

Gaara nestled closer to you in the sheets. His hand flexed — open, close — as you left a kiss on his green veins. “Do we need to stop?” Gaara asked.

You met his eye, your mind drunk with him.

“No,” You said and pulled him forward — for the two of you to be pulled under.

You had very little appetite at breakfast, your mind still enamored with the previous events that had come to pass.

Gaara was, of course, not at breakfast; tending to sensitive Kazekage duties was of the utmost importance. So instead, you choose to eat with Kankuro and Temari.

Gaara had quite the … stamina. You were sure you had looked like murder for the rest of the night; bed hair and wild eyes as you walked Gaara through all the things you had only read about and heard from other noble ladies. Aches you fought to keep discreet restricted a lot of your movements.

The sounds of Gaara’s soft pants and whispers of praise were still in your ear long after they had faded into time. Warmth spread through your cheeks as you stared idly at the water remaining in your glass, looking but not seeing.

“So close, (Y/n) —“

“You feel amazing —“

“Don’t make me stop —“

“(Y/n)? (Y/n)!”

Temari tore you from your reverie, the images of last night turning to watercolor in your mind.

“Watch the salt,” she said, pointing to your plate.

You looked down to see your hand pouring a hill of salt on your fish. You sighed, put it away and shoveled the hill from your plate.

“I’m going to give a speech at the wedding,” Kankuro said, mind made up.

“I think that’s a great idea.” Temari sipped her tea. “Just as long as you tell me what you’re going to say.”

“What?” Kankuro crossed his arms indignantly. “You don’t trust me?”

“Oh, I wonder why, Mr. psychoactive cactus man?”

Kankuro sighed in defeat as you giggled. “All right, fine,” he replied.

“Do you have anything written?” You asked, desperate for something to cling to so you might live in the present.

Kankuro shrugged. “Not yet. I’m not as good with words as Gaara.”

“Nonsense!” You playfully slapped him on the shoulder. “I’m sure whatever you say will be lovely. You’ve got to let me read.”

Kankuro held up his pinkie. “Promise.”

“I hope Lord Boutoku’s quarters are to his satisfaction,” Temari said as you wrapped your pinkie around Kankuro’s. “We wanted only the best to make him comfortable.”

So it was her. You smiled. “He’s doing well. Thank you, Temari.”

“No problem!”

Better than well, actually; your father had returned to a softer version of himself, ordering servants to and fro and requesting to be served all of his meals in bed. You resisted an eye-roll, thinking about the prima donna that he was. As long as he was happy, you supposed.

“All right, I’m outta here.” Temari set aside a napkin and rose from her seat. “Long day today.”

“With what, exactly?”

“Lady Ikanago has requested details about Lord Boutoku’s arrival, and I said I’d go fill her in,” Temari explained.

“Gonna grab her some painkillers for that hip, too?”

Temari threw a bun at Kankuro’s head, which he aptly caught and bit into.

“Or maybe some purple pandemonium.” Temari snickered as Kankuro blanched. She left her chair. “So long, you two.”

You waved goodbye to her and returned to your breakfast, humming quietly before taking a sip of your water —

“So,” Kankuro began. “You and my little brother sure had fun last night, didn’t you —?”

— You spit out your water.

“Wha — what?” You dabbed yourself frantically with a napkin.

Kankuro’s laughter shook his shoulders, the bun becoming clearly too heavy to hold under the weight of the mirth.

“How do you —“ Your mind went to wild places. “He didn’t tell you —?”

“Are you kidding?” Kankuro said. “Of course not. He’d never; he’s ever bit the gentleman he seems.”

“Then …” You looked around helplessly. “Then how …?”

Kankuro tapped a finger on his temple. “A brother knows these things; I got a good look at him earlier this morning.” He took another bite out of his now crescent moon of a bun and added with a mouth full, “plus, the two of you are such virgins — all dazed and bashful. If this is you trying to hide it, then the whole village will know.”

“Oh, gods.” You hid in your soup. You had passed out long before Gaara and had woken up in his bed without him in it, accompanied only by a simple note telling you Kazekage duties had pulled him away and to go back to sleep full of good dreams.

Kankuro chuckled. “Don’t sweat it. Nobody heard anything.”

“That’s not helping me to not sweat.”

“It’s okay!” Kankuro couldn’t stop grinning. “Really! I’m glad of it.” He shook his head, his smile not having died. “I was worried it’d never happen for him, my poor little brother.”

You groaned, elbow supporting your weight as you ran a hand over your face. “Does Temari know?”

“You’re still alive,” Kankuro said, “so no.”

That earned a little dry laugh from you, a spark of mirth, and it was gone. You looked up through a crack in your fingers. “He looked happy this morning when you saw him, right?”

Kankuro’s expression sobered a bit as he looked into your worried face. “Of course.”

You sighed, relieved.

Kankuro scooped another egg onto his plate. “You gonna go see if he’s still happy?”

“He’s busy.” Both your arms folded on the table. You looked out the window at the faraway blue sky. “I don’t want to bother him.”

In truth, you had no idea what you were supposed to do after sex. Icha Icha was coming up dry on that front; the couples usually lazed in bed or fell asleep together and the time skips gave you no idea what was meant to happen the day after.

“You’re too timid, sis.” Kankuro reached over and pinched your cheek as you grumbled. “Don’t worry about that; we bug him all day with little things. He always says he doesn’t mind. Breaks up the monotony of the day.”

You smiled to yourself. “I don’t know …”

“Both of you think too much,” Kankuro said. “Do you even think last night would have happened if my brother was so sensitive to everything you did? Stop worrying.”

You chuckled. “Okay, okay. I’ll go myself.”

“That a girl.”

You straightened your back as you neared Gaara’s office. Despite your nerves, you did want to see him again.

“Do I look all right, Chuuyou?” You asked.

He blinked, as though surprised you would expect a reasonable answer about fashion from a shinobi. “The skirt complements your legs very well, my lady.”

You nodded, assured. You had opted for your precious fishnets again, with wedged sandals and a skirt to soften their effect. Would everything be different post-coitus? For better or worse? You let yourself into his office.

“Gaara?” You sweetened your voice as the door creaked open.

Two other Sand ninjas flanked Gaara’s desk. Their heads raised when you entered. You met Gaara’s eye immediately, who stiffened upon seeing you.

“Hello, gentlemen,” You said. “I would like a minute alone with my fiancée.”

The ninja exchanged glances. You watched in mild amusement as they obeyed without a word from Gaara and exited.

“They are instructed to listen to you now as well,” Gaara said as the door closed, reading the question on your face. “I thought it appropriate, as you will be a part of my family from now on.”

Butterflies fluttered in your chest as you strode to his desk. You will be a part of my family. You admired your cactus gift now present atop it, now the parent of two tiny succulents flanking either sides of it.

“I apologize for leaving so abruptly,” Gaara said. “My responsibilities as Kazekage …”

“No!” You dismissed him with a nervous laugh. “Don’t apologize, it was nothing.”

“I never would have left you for anything less imperative,” Gaara said while shuffling papers.

Gaara’s fingers grazed yours as they ghosted the wood of the desk. And, upon instinct, you crossed the desk to him. He stared ahead. Rose-colored the pale in his face as he set aside a folder.

“Last night was … all right?”

“That’s a bit of an understatement.” You looped a finger around one of his. “Funny. I was going to ask you the same.”

“Nonsense.” Gaara’s grip grew firmer on your hand. “You were — are — everything a man could ask for.”

You lowered your gaze sheepishly, not knowing what to say to that.

Gaara gave an affirmative nod. “Good. At any rate, there is still much I wish for you to teach me.” He opened a drawer. You gawked at his collection of Icha Icha novels.

“You keep these in here?”

“They don’t interfere with work, I assure you.”

“I could’ve sworn I taught you enough last night!”

“Perhaps for one night,” Gaara said, “but not indefinitely.”

You giggled as he rose to admire you. A gentle smile narrowed his eyes. Gaara’s thumb brushed the side of your face. He left a kiss on your forehead.

Gaara …

“I intend to spend more time with you once my work is done,” Gaara said as he parted from you.

“I understand,” You said and, feigning tiredness, you added, “and in the meantime, I guess I’ll look to see what my father is up to.”

Gaara nodded wordlessly. You pet his hand, not quite through with the feel of his touch, before waving goodbye to him before leaving the office.

You might as well have been walking on pure air; there was nothing tethering you to the earth. Nothing at all.

The end of the month began to draw near. You, your father, and Gaara were in talks about how the two villages would intersect from now on. Father was willing to split his Cyclone down the middle and gift you some of the members, but you weren’t too sure. There were certain classified documents he promised you could now read and, if you deemed it wise, share with Gaara. Those you were more interested in; if you could assist in the coming together of your two villages in any way, that was how you wanted to occupy your time. The diplomacy enthralled you.

But it wasn’t because you didn’t appreciate the effort; Father hadn’t been this warm toward you since the days before your mother had died. It made you feel precious to see him grow incensed about the attack at the beach. You had to suppress laughter when he promised he would send his best to hang your attacker at a town square, slice him into pieces (whatever suited his mood that day) until you steered him on to a different subject. You often had your breakfasts with him now, where he either asked you about your days with Gaara’s family or reminisced about the good old days of being a shinobi (whenever those were, but you knew better than to interject).

And, of course, there was the ever-elusive oasis.

You asked Father if he had told Gaara anything about your village’s greatest secret, but his answers were always vague. Supposedly, he was saving the juiciest information for last.

“He’s told me nothing,” Gaara said during one breakfast Father hadn’t roped you into, “and I think it’s because I haven’t asked. I don’t wish to seem too eager.”

“Well, they can have it,” Temari had said, twirling her fork. “I’m not really that curious about some puddle of water in the middle of the desert — no offense,” she added to you with an apologetic flash of a smile. “I just care about how much of a precedent this will set for other villages we’ve rivaled with.”

“Temari’s right,” Baki said before turning to Gaara. “Excellent deduction skills, Lord Kazekage; we wouldn’t want to make Lord Boutoku uncomfortable with our inquiries. The council is doing more than enough of that on their own.”

Kankuro, you noticed, had been strangely silent on the matter.

You and Gaara were sharing a room now, which you were sure was some kind of symbolic metaphor. You had few possessions to move in besides things that were left in your closet; the clothes you had brought with you to Sunagakure, the clothes you’d bought with Temari, simple knick knacks. Gaara was more than liberal with his personal space and seemed to welcome the intrusion.

You woke one morning — ready to retch. You tore the sheets off of you and sprinted to the bathroom. You ducked your head in the toilet and vomited until you dry-heaved.

You collapsed to the side with a groan. You wiped your mouth and flushed it away.

“Are you all right, my lady?” one of the servants asked, her voice muffled through the closed door.

“I’m — I’m fine!” You rubbed your chest, stiff and aching from the retching.

What was this all about? You hadn’t eaten anything out of the ordinary? In fact, you’d barely eaten anything at all the past few days. Nothing beyond what was necessary to sustain you. Your mind had been on things far more urgent than food. How could you —

A sharp, cold chill ran over you.

No … it can’t be.

… It could.

Leaving out your first night with Gaara, the others had been … extensive. And sorely lacking in protection.

Oh. Oh —

“Damn you, Jiraiya-sensei!” You hissed as you scampered to your feet.

This wasn’t supposed to happen! His characters never used protection! What a fantasy!

But you should’ve known better, after all the stories noble women had shared with you about their accidental pregnancies. Some had even fallen pregnant on their cycle. All of these cautionary tales had impelled the younger ones to be more careful. You had not been careful.

You were pregnant.

Your head spun as you faced yourself in the mirror, ready to … you didn’t know. Laugh maniacally? Cry? Be … happy?

Happy?

You brushed a hand over your belly. Could it be possible you were growing life there at that very moment? Your child? Gaara’s child? You would be a mother? All of these casualties formed chaotic webs inside your mind, one string falling after the last. Your overactive brain flashed images of you and Gaara and children that looked like both of you. A family. A proper family …

Worry was replaced with rising elation, like a morning sun coming to bring clarity. What if you were pregnant? Wouldn’t it be a good thing? And the wedding … no one would ever know you had gotten pregnant before; in no way would you start showing before the time came.

Who would you tell? Who could you tell? Temari? Would she be upset with you?

You wished, more than anything, to have your mother.

She would know what to do. You felt a strange kinship with her suddenly; was this what it was like for her when she had discovered her pregnancy? Your mind went a mile a minute. You knew who you could tell.

Finally, you stepped out of the bathroom to see serving ladies and Chuuyou looking concerned.

“I’m fine, really!” You assured. Your mind was made up. “Chuuyou.”

“Yes, my lady?” his soothing voice hit your ear.

“I need to see my father.”

“Ahh, and if it isn’t my favorite daughter.”

Chuuyou stepped aside so you could enter your father’s room. The windows were drawn to let in the morning sun. Tendrils of steam curled into the air from his teacup. All of this was contradicted by him fanning himself on one of the couches.

“Hello, Father,” You greeted.

“Come, come.” He centered the tray on the table.”And to what do I owe this early meeting? I wasn’t expecting to see you for a few hours more.”

“Well, uh.” You watched your father’s hands dance around the tea. He poured you a cup and offered it to you. You accepted it with a tight smile. “I have something to tell you.”

Father sipped his tea. “I’m all ears.”

“Well …” You lowered your gaze to your mug, the steam heating your chin. “I woke up feeling sick this morning —“

“Oh, don’t tell me.” Father snapped his fan closed with a chuckle. “You inherited your weak stomach from your mother. Shame, shame. The woman was my entire world, but the poor thing could be so —“

“I think I may be pregnant.”

…

Breeze whipped the curtain hems with a howl. Chuuyou seemed to take in a sharp breath in the corner, unseen by you; You only had eyes for Father. He’d become a statue, facing you without seeing.

“Pregnant?” Father’s voice was hushed, low. “You’re sure?”

“We — well, I’m not entirely sure.” You twiddled your fingers. “I haven’t done any tests, but it’s a possibility …” You cleared your throat, lowering your gaze. “Highly possible. I was sick this morning, and I’ve never felt anything like that before. We can visit the infirmary together to be sure —“

“You stupid girl.”

You glanced up — hot tea seared your face.

You screamed, hands flying to your face as you doubled over to the sound of china shattering.

“Chuuyou!” Father roared, “close the curtains!”

You collapsed on the floor, still holding your face. Every part of your face burned, hot and horrible. You wailed. Curtains rustled. A hand seized the hem of your shirt to hoist you to your feet.

“Get up — GET UP — look at me!” Father snarled, shaking you.

You obeyed with a frightened whimper. Your blurred vision of Father struggled to focus in the darkness. “Father — father, please —!”

“What did I ever do for the gods to curse me with you?” he yanked you closer. “I’ve been as patient as possible, but this? I am so sick of your whorish ways!”

“Father, fath —!”

“Chuuyou told me everything about your filthy little tryst with the Kazekage in his greenhouse,” Father hissed, hot breath close to your face. “Why do you think I’m here —!?”

He tossed you. You were a fool to think the couch would meet you; your back collided with the hard ground. You stumbled, fumbling away on the wet floor on wobbling hands and feet as Father advanced.

“Did you think I would be overjoyed to see you married off to our greatest enemy? Stupid girl!” He picked up another tea cup and threw it at your head. You dodged with a shriek and it split apart at the wall.

You gasped, clutching at the wall. Something came to light in your head, wedged by the horror. The greenhouse … You glanced at Chuuyou. At the same moment, he met your eye.

You had been alone with Gaara in the greenhouse. But you were never alone, not really. And Baki had been assured by his own informants the two of you hadn’t been seen. But you had been seen. But not by Matsuri. By someone who was always watching, for you had your guardian, your supposed protector.

Your shadow.

“It was you …” You whispered. “You spread the word about the greenhouse …”

Chuuyou lowered his gaze. “Yes …”

“You told him!” You pointed to Father, a set of dominoes toppling in your mind. “You set up Matsuri!”

He closed his eyes.

“Yes,” he muttered. “Once I realized you were truly falling in love with the Kazekage, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I left your side at times I knew you wouldn’t notice or care, and assured there were two Matsuris when there should have been one. I had a clone of her visit a gossip columnist in the village. I knew it would cause a scandal.” He bowed his head. “And it did.”

You shook your head, the level of scheming overwhelming to wrap your head around. “How could you?”

And one of Gaara’s closest? His precious student, of all people? But, with a sickening feeling in your stomach unrelated to the fetus growing there, you began to understand: It would appear as though Gaara was a leader, a Kage, who did not have his house in order, who could not control those closest to him. An unstable house was one easy to topple. How he must have felt in the desert, when morning had come and Gaara was still alive.

“The Sand must be defeated, My Lady —“

“Do not call me that!” You shrieked. “You have no right to call me that!”

“This village is duplicitous, it is evil!” Chuuyou went on. “All the years of humiliation, of oppression ― it cannot be undone by something so cynical as a political marriage! They must pay for the pain they have caused us.”

“You helped to sully Gaara’s reputation to spread doubt in the council.” You felt you might retch again. “To strengthen the factions already against him.”

“His reputation has already been sullied. He is a monster — he was born on —“

“And my reputation, Chuuyou?” You murmured, your heart breaking even more than you thought it could, thought it capable. “What about mine?”

Chuuyou opened his eyes only to cast his gaze to the floor, shame keeping him from lifting his chin.

“You were supposed to protect me …” Rage and sorrow toiled inside you. And he failed both times.

You felt dirty and depraved, deprived. Chuuyou, the one person you felt you could always trust even if his shadowing had been bothersome at times. But then … What kind of fool were you? Chuuyou had been chosen by your father, after all. Anyone imposed by him should have raised your alarm, should have cast doubt within you.

“The opinion of those living in the Sand will cease to matter once I have instilled myself as their ruler,” Father said. You had not forgotten he was there. You could never forget. “I was really hoping you would surprise me,” Father’s voice was low as he glowered over you. “Everything I have taught you … I was hoping you had some sound reason for delaying your task. But instead you come to me, suspicious of carrying his child. You are so pathetically predictable.”

“So it was all lies,” You said. “All of it, from the moment you came.”

“My time here has been miserable,” Father hissed. “Having to watch you play house with that thing” — he threw his hand — “and his family. I am here for one reason and one only, and that is to take matters into my own hands.”

Your eyes widened at him. It was all beginning to make sense now. The letter — it had come after the greenhouse. Your father and his Cyclone. You had thought him simply paranoid, wanting his own protection.

That was not why.

You thought of the other Oasis ninja littered all over the palace — the entire village. Perfectly poised to act. All they needed was to be given word …

“So you’ve just been —“ You struggled to get words out. “Biding your time?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Father said. “It seems, despite my intentions, I have friends in this village.” His smile was cold. “Members of the council would like to see the Kazekage’s removal.”

A cold chill. Joseki. And only the gods knew who else. No. No …!

You weren’t quick enough — Father grabbed you again.

“I would hate to kill kin,” he said. “I am giving you not a mission, but a choice. Either you kill your beloved, or you can join your mother and brother in the afterlife.”

You stared at him. Tears ran down your face. “You wouldn’t,” You whispered hopelessly. “You wouldn’t.”

The madness had returned to your father’s eyes. Dread sank you; the madness had never left him.

“It would be a shame if I had to kill my unborn grandchild as well, a blight on our family that it is.”

He dropped you and you fell sloppily to the floor. You cradled your head as it throbbed. You cracked your eyes open, sobbing in the corner as Father left the room, and Chuuyou, his sorrowful gaze lingering on you, followed him.

You hated no one more than yourself.

You had no idea how long you laid on the floor, shattered dreams and china surrounding you. Darkness and quiet swallowed up the room. Spilled tea long cold wet the bottom of your sandals. Time blurred miserably, thick and colorless, and you inferred that it must’ve been hours. You had managed to pick yourself off the floor and skulk to the room that had once been yours. Chuuyou’s loss weighed your step where he would’ve trailed them. Locking the door behind you, you waited to collapse on the bed to collapse in every other way.

You screamed into a pillow, your tears wetting the fabric. You clenched fists into its plush, and you were sure you could rip it apart, powered by nothing but anguish.

Emotions had blinded you. You were so desperate to believe your father had changed his mind you had missed the truth: he only wanted to succeed where you had failed.

He was playing along. All this time … All the while working out sinister background details with Joseki and — horror rained down on you — others to take down Gaara. Had all those times at his bedside been a lie? You couldn’t quite believe it; Father’s joy had seemed so genuine, his laughter — when was the last time you’d heard him laugh? He’d been a different person, an echo of something long lost. The memories of all those mornings evoked a different ache in you, impelling you to touch a hand on your chest. I lost the father I never had. That’s why I feel the way I do.

Chuuyou (your shadow, what a joke) had, at some point, slipped away to frame Matsuri. What was her role in this? Beside your angst lay curiosity; a part of you wanted to go to her cell and ask her yourself.

But you couldn’t. There was no time. Angst. Curiosity. Alarm. You were possibly carrying Gaara’s child — and wouldn’t be for much longer, if you didn’t do something fast. You wiped your tears with the back of your arm, releasing a shuddering breath as you rose from bed.

There was only one card you had to play: you had to tell Gaara. Now.

You picked yourself up from your self-hate, composed yourself, and left the room for the one you shared with Gaara. He had to be there by now; it was late afternoon. The last time you had turned your head to the sky, it had been periwinkle. Your head had swelled with dreams. You hadn’t wanted to die.

You lugged yourself around, giving idle hellos to maids and servants who greeted you, working past hallways now familiar to you until you made it to the bedroom door and entered.

“Gaara …!” You were relieved.

Gaara sat at the bed’s edge, one leg swung over the other. Unharmed. He raised his head to smile at you. “(Y/n). Hello. I was just waiting for you.”

You brought him into a hug. “Thank the gods …” You whispered into his sleeve.

You felt his hand still at the small of your back. “(Y/n) … There have been some issues.”

You pulled back to stare inquisitively up at him. Carefully, you asked, “What do you mean? … What types of issues?”

Gaara cast his gaze low. “Would you be opposed to remaining only in the palace?”

“Gaara.” Your brows furrowed. “What’s going on?”

Gaara still averted your gaze. “I hate asking this of you — you’ve been so sequestered already — but … There are anti-Kazekage sentiments brewing across the village.”

“Anti-Kazekage …” You trailed. Did this have to do with the greenhouse? Or your father? Or both? “Gaara, oh no … I’m sorry …”

“Don’t be,” Gaara said. “It’s as I told you: not all have come to accept me. And as there has been a significant uptick in drama lately, it was to be expected. I highly doubt it will leak to the entire village. I’ll deal with it.” He glanced up at you at last. “But I fear for your safety, especially after what took place at the beach …” He stopped, invisible brows furrowed as he appraised you. “Is something the matter?”

“Yes.” There was no point sugarcoating. This was it. You couldn’t be a coward anymore. Do the right thing for once. For your husband. For the baby. “My —“

But your tongue refused to work; it lay limp in your mouth. Your lips parted, but only breath escaped. Sound, no words.

Gaara took your hand. “Take your time. That is what Temari would always tell me when I had trouble speaking as a child.” He paused. “As a young child.”

“I’m all right,” You said, creating some distance between the two of you. “I’m — okay, really! It’s just, my —“ Again, your tongue froze. Your lips closed against your will, refusing to help you impart speech. You tried to force words out — only to remain hopelessly tongue tied. You closed your eyes with a sinking realization.

Your heart ramped. Panic set in. Oh, no. Oh no oh no.

Father’s done something to me. I can’t say it! I can hardly think !

“Are you okay?”

“Gaara …” Fear shallowed your breath. It gripped you like a child hiding from the dark, and you wished you had a teddy to hug. I’m so scared. What should I do?

“(Y/n).” Gaara’s voice was firm now.

You closed your eyes, bringing Gaara close. “No.” You shook your head. “I — I just …” You fought tears. You couldn’t tell the truth, and now you truly couldn’t. I can’t tell him — I literally can’t tell him. “I just can’t stay inside anymore! I feel so claustrophobic, but — but I always seem to be causing trouble for you … That shouldn’t be the case for someone you love.”

“No.” Gaara caressed your cheek. “If anything, I cause trouble for you.” And with all the authority of a Kage, he said, “I will address this. I’m sorry, truly, but it will only be for a few more days. No longer.”

Like you cared about living or being anywhere besides the Sand palace. Like you wouldn’t want to burrow into it and stay forever. Wordlessly, you brought him into a hug. You wanted to burrow inside him, hide in your fiancée, the only place you felt safe. Even if he couldn’t save you.

“If anything, I cause trouble for you,” Gaara said. He stroked the nape of your neck, his voice as gentle as autumn rain. “Forgive me.”

You pinched at his sleeve, a cue for him to comfort you more, and, miraculously, Gaara obliged, running a hand over your arm.

“You … could never cause trouble for me.”

“Do you think (Y/n) has been acting strangely lately?” Gaara asked.

His siblings lounged around the sitting room, accompanied by Baki. Despite the demands of their respective duties, some days were slower than others. Gaara lived for these days where he could enjoy the company of his family and friends, and he enjoyed it now, even with his concern for you.

At his inquiry, Temari stopped fanning herself. “Hm?” “I haven’t noticed anything. Though … I haven’t seen much of Lord Boutoku lately. Oh.” She sighed and rested her chin on her palm. “I hope the council’s not crowding him too much. Did you hear Ryusa kept him out all day yesterday?”

“Serves him right,” Kankuro grumbled. “Geezers. All of them. He’s got some nerve, always retiring to his room because he’s tired — like he doesn’t have servants waiting on him hand and foot.”

“I’ve heard about people having …” Gaara fought the anxiety inside of him as he reached for the term, “cold feet …”

“Certainly not, Lord Kazekage,” Baki said. “You must understand: women are mysterious creatures. They need a great deal of time to themselves.”

“I second that,” Temari said. “It’s a surprise you’re not married, Baki.”

Baki gave her a flat look. “Oh, is it?”

“Gaara,” she said, ignoring Baki, “I’m sure she’s fine. Don’t worry.”

“Yeah, I’ll go check on her for you,” Kankuro said.

Gaara frowned. “But …”

Kankuro placed a hand on Gaara’s shoulder on his way out. “Big brother will take care of it. Don’t worry.”

Gaara appreciated the levity, and after a second or two nodded.

“Thank you, Kankuro.”

Kankuro made it to Gaara’s quarters. He could hear the trickle of shower water. The bed was perfectly made, along with the rest of the room. Not a hair out of place — beside your necklace on the bedside table.

Kankuro sighed. Worried about nothing, as always, Gaara. The necklace’s disk caught in the lamplight. Curiosity tugged at him. He approached the necklace. He remembered the pomp-and-circumstance that came along with Lord Boutoku bestowing it on you. The whole thing was cheesy, but … sweet. He knew how much you loved the thing, were never seen without it. Maybe the old man wasn’t so bad. Crazy, but not bad.

Kankuro grazed the necklace’s face — he misjudged it, though, and it clanked to the floor.

“Woops.” He knelt down to retrieve it, only to see its disk had cracked open.

His eyes widened. “Oh no,” he hissed. “No!”

Kankuro, what the fuck did you —?

Glistening black caught his eye. The necklace had broken apart at its center like a metaphorical heart, allowing something to … seep from it.

Something was inside the necklace.

He leaned forward to further inspect it.

Your hands ran absentmindedly over your body. The hot water did nothing to change the corpse-cold temperature of your skin. With numb fingers, you shut the water off, your hair dripping over the valve.

You felt othered from your own body, trapped in it with no choices, no resolution. The clock ticked imminently to doomsday in your mind. When would Father attack? Would he make you watch it as punishment?

I hope he kills me first. I do not want to see what he does next.

You palmed your stomach and imagined the fetus occupying your womb. The only thing anchoring you from life, and you had even failed this life before it was even born.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Only a few days ago, you were reeling at the prospect of marrying Gaara, only sooner you were imagining starting a family. What a risible delusion. What a farce.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

You left the shower and wrapped a towel around yourself. A new set of dry clothes lay folded for you, and after drying off, you dressed. Fresh clothes. Soft. Flowery-scented shampoo, soap. The warmth of the clothes failed to penetrate your skin, much like the shower water had. You felt carved, rounded out and empty, like a shell whose creature had long since slithered away.

You reached for your necklace — it was gone.

What? Your reverie cleared enough for you to ponder. Had you misplaced it? Remembering one moment from another had become a struggle. What had you done with it?

Unless it was taken?

Your eyes widened. Panic shattered the reverie completely. What if Father had taken it, or had someone do it?

You exited the room, head swinging either way. Where would you look? The only place that came to mind was the sitting room. You headed there, descended the stairs to the last floor —

“Has anyone seen my —?”

Gaara was there, waiting for you. And Temari and Kankuro. And Baki. And a dozen other sand ninja.

You froze on the stairs.

Kankuro, blank-faced, lifted his hand: your necklace chain roped around his fingers and hung there. “Looking for something?” He turned half of the necklace’s broken face and the poison dripped blood-black dots onto the floor.

Your body, flushed from running, ran corpse-cold again. “I …”

“(Y/n) …” Gaara said. “What is this?”

Your throat was too constricted to help form words. A thousand knives seemed to hold you in place.

“An incredibly powerful agent, I’d say,” Kankuro finished for him in a detached, clinical voice, though nothing could conceal the cold fury underneath. “Extracted from the Red Spine plant. Grows from her side of the desert. I’ve even read about it … You would’ve been dead in seconds, Gaara.”

You shook your head wildly. “No, Gaara, Kankuro — I can explain …!”

“So that’s why Boutoku’s here,” Temari said under her breath. You could see the whites of her knuckles from where you stood. Shadows shrouded her eyes before she fixed you with a murderous glare. “You planned to poison him.”

There was no air in your lungs. “No … no …. Wait, I — please —“

“This whole time …” Kankuro’s anger simmered under his breath, barely held back. “It’s all been a ruse. You were waiting for us to let our guards down —“

“No!”

“I knew something was off!” Temari roared, a hysterical edge to her voice now. “I knew something was wrong! This whole time — and when you woke up in the infirmary and flipped out about the necklace being gone! You thought we’d found out!”

Tears were streaming down your face now. You tried to move your mouth helplessly to reveal the truth, but no words were forthcoming. As Father designed, your tongue rolled and failed you.

It doesn’t matter. I knew. I agreed to all of this. All of it.

“There must be some explanation.” Gaara’s voice was measured, but even you could detect the hint of desperation in his tone. “A misunderstanding …?”

You kept moving your mouth, but you were sure you only appeared stammering and pathetic, grasping at straws to craft into lies. Your legs failed; you slumped to a step. You caught Baki’s eye, quietly pleading, but disappointment seemed to keep him silent.

“There isn’t, Gaara.” Kankuro took a step. You’d never seen him look so imposing; his face paint rendered him monstrous. “She’s been wearing that fucking thing since she got here, since I brought her to you —!”

Kankuro threw the necklace, emptied of its contents, into your face. You yelped, catching it with trembling hands. Temari’s

hands shook, aching, probably, for a weapon to strike you with.

“You snake!” Kankuro hissed. “After everything —!”

“Gaara …” You looked up — and your heart fell to pieces.

Gaara was a stone, but his eyes were lined with moisture. You had brought him to near tears.

You had done this.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Baki asked. “If you’ve anything at all to say.”

“Please, Gaara …” You were crawling away from the stairs now, toward them. “Please, please …”

Save me.

Gaara turned away from you. His expression was cold.

“Take her.”

“No!” You screamed as ninja advanced to grab you. You kicked as you were hoisted to your feet. “No, you can’t, Gaara!” You were being thrust through the threshold when your voice ripped from your throat: “I’M PREGNANT!”

The shinobi paused, turned to Gaara for guidance.

Gaara searched your eyes, his expression reserved in his desperation for this to be true.

“Please,” You sobbed. “It’s true … You can’t do this. You know it’s possible.”

He turned around, this time his back to you. “She’ll be given a test to confirm whether this is true. We can no longer take her on her word. We’re done here … Take her.”

You sobbed miserably as you were dragged away. Temari and Kankuro’s words filtered through your awareness, but nothing registered.

“Matsuri needs to be released, we need to go get her —“

“We have to deal with Boutoku now!”

“I can’t believe this —“

But it all fell away as you lolled your head to the side. Brutal daylight hit your face as you were dragged from the palace’s entrance, and through blurry eyes, you watched the place that had become your home grow farther away. Nothing but a dream.

#gaara x reader #gaara x you #gaara x y/n #gaara smut #naruto x reader #naruto x y/n #naruto x you #naruto smut #my work

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13as07 · 3 months

Text

Desert Lily #3

(Kankuro Sabaku Smut)

[Art work is not mine! Credit to DeoxyDiamond]

Requested by: Myself

Word Count: 3,150

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

I think I'm going to do a part four (yes, it's going to be another smut cause I'm a wh*re)

Also, anytime I read the line "where have you been" (regardless of the context), I read it in Mrs Weasley's voice

Exhibitionism (public sex)

Humiliation/Degrading/Praising

Color Safe Word System

Bite Marks/Hickies

Choking

Oral/Fingering

Creampie

———————————————————————

Worries and the sound of my breathing ring in my head. Kankuro keeps himself busy, toying with my legs, tugging them open before closing them a bit, just to repeat it. He's worked his way up from mid-thigh to my hip, purple streaks being left against my skin. "Ro?" I call, shaky hands clinging to his shoulders.

"Desert Lily?" He mutters, working his way back down my hip.

"I don't... we can't be caught. That would be... terrible."

Lips stale on my leg, Ro's tongue slithering out to lick at my skin as he thinks. "So?"

"So?!" I repeat, hands jumping to his hair to tug him out from between my legs. "We're not even publicly together. Do you know how terrible of an image that would set me up for? How terrible of an image that would settle you into?"

His head tips to the side, fingers toying with the hem of my skirt. "My pretty lily? What do you think me asking you as my date was?"

"You wanting to spend time with me," I answer, my tone just as confused as my mind is.

A smile cracks across his face before he dips down to brush more kisses into me, this time across my knees. "Of course, that's a correct answer, but it's not the one I was looking for."

"Then what's the answer you're looking for?"

Kankuro's head pops up again as he climbs to his feet. His arms stay under my knees, pushing me onto my back as he moves. "My desert lily," he purrs, shifting himself between my legs, and placing them around his waist before he hovers over me.

His hands crawl up my body, fingers sliding under my bracelets before wrapping around my wrists. His growing hard-on is evident as it presses against me. Kuro hovers over my face, nose tapping against mine as he looks down at me. "Our nation's greatest allies are here. Tonight's events will be in the news for at least the next month. A million pictures of us have been taken. The only way I could make our relationship more public would be if I fucked you on the dinner table instead of in the kitchen. Is that what you need my lily?"

The words brew in my groin, the thought of Kuro so willing to fuck me in front of our nation - his nation's greatest allies makes me tingle. "No," I whisper, tightening my legs around his waist.

"Are you sure? I'll carry you out there. I'll fuck you in front of everyone," he taunts, hands falling to my hips and lifting me.

"Kankuro!"

"Hush," he orders before pressing a kiss to my lips. I'm carried across the kitchen, kisses littered against my lips until I'm set on my feet again.

"Kankuro," I call again, but I'm ignored. He turns me, forcing me to face the door before he pushes it open. "Ro, please don't."

Again, I'm forcefully shifted, tucked to the side of the door with my head turned to the side so I can see out of it. People filter in and out of my view; Hokages, highly regarded shinobis, fellow villages of the Sand, and others I don't know anything about.

Hands rub against my hips as Ro's head settles against mine. "Is this okay? If it's too risky we can go upstairs or wait until another time."

"I... um... I don't want to be caught, Kuro."

He hums, pressing a kiss to my cheek before letting me go. I watch as his fingers rub against the door, blue threads glowing from his fingertips as he pulls away from the wood. The ends of the threads cling to the door as more length spews from his fingers while he moves back toward me.

"Do you know what these are?" He asks, flexing his fingers - and the hued strings - as he settles back in front of me.

"They're your chakra threads, right?" I ask, admiring the glow of them.

"Yes they are, Desert Lily," he says, shifting around so I'm cocooned between his arms and the visible chakra without anything getting tangled. "When I tug on them," he starts, movement following his words. "The door will close. When I push on them," Once again his movements mimic his words, "the door will open."

"That's so cool," I mumble, continuing to admire the chakra. "Can I touch them?"

Kuro hums a yes, an amused smile on his face as he watches me. I reach out, running my fingers over the blue glow. The threads are warm and make my fingers tingle as I touch them. "As long as my threads are connected, no one but me can control the door. Do you still want to wait? We can if you want."

I think over it for a second, continuing to toy with the bands. "You promise you're the only one that can move the door?"

"Yes, my lily."

"And if anyone comes near the kitchen?"

"The door will close instantly," he reassures, shifting the door closed again for good measure. He shifts it back open, exciting me even more.

"I'm fine with it then." My yes is followed by littered kisses across my shoulders and arms around my hips.

"My flower?" I push out a hummed yes, soaking in the feeling of his lips against me. "I want to use this sex system I heard of."

"I need more of an explanation than that."

"So..." Kankuro's cheeks puff out as he thinks over his words. "There's three colors. Green which means all good and you're enjoying it. Yellow is more of a like a slow down or 'I'm not done but something needs to change'. Red is an instant stop. You can call out a color as need be and I'll ask now and again."

"I like that idea," I coo, reaching forward to cup his face and litter it in kisses. I busy my fingers, rubbing his cheeks. "It'll help you know you didn't hurt me and help us communicate as need be."

He stays quiet, soaking in my small touches for a while before he peeps up again. "It's not going to be as needed tonight because... well, I'm not going to be super crazy cause the situation and it being our first, and ya. But it'll be good practice."

I hum in agreement, peppering kisses against his lip before diving in for a deeper one. Hands fall to my hips again, kneading at my flesh as Kankuro's lips brush against mine. "I want to taste you, flower," he murmurs against my mouth. "Color?" He teases me a bit, hands starting to hike up my dress.

"Green."

Another smile cracks across his face as he pushes me backward, my spine connecting to the wall. My eyes flicker to the side, taking a quick peek at the people only a couple of feet away.

Ro settles on his knees again, head ducking under the material of my dress. My skirt tumbles down his back, concealing him slightly. Lips brush against my thighs again as fingers toy alongside them, the sizzling from his chakra strands colliding with my skin. My attention focuses outside the door, nervously scanning the partygoers.

Soon teeth sink into my skin, pulling a whimper from my lungs. "Color?" Kankuro asks again, his tongue tracing the bite mark.

"Green."

More bite marks are littered, Ro toying with the depth of his teeth as his mouth crawls around my legs. His fingertips slide up my hips, snaking under my panties and clinging to the material. He tugs on the material, slowly pulling it down my legs before settling them around my knees. "Color?"

"Green," I breathe out, anticipation creeping from my core. My legs shift, squeezing Kuro as he inches his way up my legs again, teasing me with his slow pace. "Kankuro?"

"Lily?"

"You're teasing, that's not very nice."

"I know," he chuckles out, kissing my stomach before a long slow lick slithers through my folds. "I like it when you squirm."

After the mocking sentence is out, Kankuro's tongue plunges into me, instantly starting to thrust the muscle in and out. "Ro," I mutter, settling my hands on his head.

My eyes flicker out the door, scanning the room of people again. Before I can stop it, my hips are thrust forward, grinding myself against Kuro's face.

He chuckles at me, tongue swirling around my clit before his lips latch around it. One of his hands falls down my leg, poking at my hole as his mouth focuses on my clit. It's a weird mix of pleasure and electric energy sizzling off his chakra threads. "Color?" He mutters against me, two fingers sliding into me.

"Green. So green," I answer, back arching as my eyes flutter away from the door, settling on the imprint of Kankuro under my dress. His fingers pound into me, kisses and lick being littered over my clit and thighs. "Ro," I mutter, tugging up my skirt.

Once the material is balled up, exposing my lovely suitor, I'm met with dark eyes staring up at me and beyond speared face paint. "Desert Lily?" He calls back, eyes staying locked on me as he continues to play me, fingers sinking in and out, and tongue lapping me up.

"Please?" Is all I can manage to push out, eyes repeatedly flickering from the door's opening to Kuro wrapped up between my legs.

"Please what?" He pushes, pulling his fingers out of me before he climbs to his feet. Kuro's hands slide up my slides, keeping my skirt up and pussy exposed. "What do you want, my pretty lily?"

The words stick in my throat as I cling to his arms, nails digging into his bicep as I try to pull him closer. "Please?"

"Please what?" Kankuro repeats hips pressed against mine as his hands fall from me. "Please fuck you? Is that what you want? Do you want me to fill you up with everyone ten paces away?" His hands are busy as he degrades me, undoing his pants and tugging himself out of his boxers.

The words sink into my core, dragging even more arousal down with them. "Color?" The word comes out soft, Kuro's focus intense as he scans my face.

"Green," I whisper, eyes falling to his dick. His hand is slow as he pumps himself, the tip pink and screaming to be shoved into me.

"Okay, good," he mutters, shifting against me. His penis settles between my folds, hands gripping my knees before picking me up. I'm pressed against the wall, legs around his torso and my own hands sliding up to his shoulders.

"You are gorgeous," Kankuro mutters against my neck, littering soft kisses against my skin.

"You are handsome," I echo, leaning down to litter his face in kisses.

He smiles at me, a hand loosening on me to line himself up to me. His tip pokes in, settling there as his now free hand slithers up my neck, fingers sliding under the gold chain dangling around my neck. Slowly his grip increases, gently cutting off my air flow.

"Yellow," I mutter, when his grip becomes a little too tight.

Kankuro's head lifts, eyes locked on me as he loosens his hold a bit. "Color?"

"Green."

"Good," he mutters, head lowering again as he sinks into me. His pace is slow, making sure I feel every inch of him as he bottoms out. "You are perfect," he mutters, hand pulsing, hold tightening before going back to the approved grip.

Kuro settles in me for a second, letting me soak in the feeling of him. It's nice, having him wrapped around me and having him buried deep. "I'm going to move now," he whispers, the pace still slow as he pulls out.

It stays like this, slow and soft, and not enough for me. "Lord Sabaku," I tease, trying to sink him into me faster by tightening my legs around him. "Please move faster."

His head flips up, eyes locked on mine as he stills. "If you want to act big and official, I'll fuck you out there," he warns, hand sliding further up so his fingers can cling to my jaw. He shifts my head to the side, forcing me to look at the Sand Village's visitors again.

"Is that what you want?" He asks, giving in to my requests. His thrusts are faster but still shallow, his dick being pulled out almost as soon as it tips back in. "Do you want all our allies to see me destroy you?"

"Will it make you fuck me like a Lord instead of a civilian?" I ask, testing Kankuro as much as he's testing me.

He chuckles, the noise coming out deeper than his normal laugh. "Oh, so Miss Civilian thinks she knows everything, huh?" Kuro asks, once again giving in to my request. His thrusts are deep and fast, fully stretching me every time. "Do you know what it's like to be fucked by a Lord? Have you messed around with a Lord before?"

"No," I mutter, heart pounding as someone shifts closer to the kitchen.

"Oh, then you just want to be lusted after by them then? Is that what you want? Was your whiney little 'please don't' just a ploy?" Kankuro's head shifts back down, sucking on the skin of my neck as he speaks. His tongue slithers out repeatedly, attacking the skin of my throat that pokes out between his fingers. "You want to be fucked in front of everyone, don't you? Is that what you want? For everyone to watch as you fall apart on your Lord's dick?"

"No," I hiss out, breath heavy from the constant pressure on my neck. I clinging to his shoulders and tugging myself closer to him.

Despite my plea of difference, I clench around him from the thought, which doesn't go unnoticed by the shinoboi. "Ya? Maybe tell your body, Lily, because it seems to like that idea." Teeth sink into my neck, clinging to my already bruised skin as Kankuro continues to pound me.

The mix of Ro's mouth clinging to me, his chakra threads buzzing against my skin, and his dick nonstop pounding me breaks me. "Kankuro," I hiss, nails clinging to his shoulders and head falling to hang against him. "My lord," I mutter as I come on done on him, my juices flowing down my thighs.

"Yes, Desert Lily?" He purrs into my ear, his thrusts slow but still deep as he chases his high. "You are beautiful," Kuro mutters the hand around my neck loosening but staying put as I try to catch my breath. "You are excellent," he continues to praise, burying himself in me.

Despite his hips being still, I feel him twitch before warm slowly bubbles into me. "Did you...?"

"Ya," he huffs out, still clinging to me as he tries to catch his breath. The room falls quiet, the soft mix of our breathing and the sounds from the party filtering in. "Color?" He mutters, lazy kisses tracing the recently made bruises.

"Yellow."

"Why?" He asks, head lifting to look at me again, this time softer.

"Because you finished in me, Kankuro," I hiss, looking at him in disbelief. I swear this man is so lucky I like him despite how dumb he can be. "Are you trying to get me pregnant?"

A huge smile cracks across his face as he chuckles silently. "I mean, my main thought was how warm and snug you felt around my cock but if you did end up pregnant it would be good grounds to marry you sooner."

"Kankuro!" I gasp, empty anger sizzling in my words as I tap the side of his head.

"I'm kidding, Lily," he says, a cocky smile still on his face, letting me know he is not kidding. "Let's straighten you up before Temari notices we're gone and flips her lid."

————————————

"Where have you been?" A very angry Temari asks through clenched teeth.

"We went on a walk," Kuro answers, shrugging his shoulders as he continues to usher me back into the ballroom.

"Ya? Ya?" My suitor's older sister asks, a sarcastic smile on her face as she shakes her head. "Last time I checked, going on a walk doesn't require you to reapply your face paint," she hisses, smearing one of the newly applied lines on Ro's face for good measure.

Our clean-up was rushed and half-done. Kuro rushed me up the stairs to remove our smeared paint and reapply it. Since it wasn't very detail-oriented, purple smears still coat my hidden legs and Ro settled on piling on more gold chains to hide the old and new bruises decorating my neck. The chains are heavy but a lot less time-consuming than the design that's smeared and hidden under the new jewelry.

"If people - like you - would stop smearing it maybe I wouldn't have to keep reapplying it," Kuro snaps back, rolling his eyes at his older sister.

"I swear Kankuro, if there's a new scandal because of you-"

"Oh my lord, Temari. Chill. It's a long event, my makeup is going to get smeared, so I'm going to reapply it," Ro rants, his fingers lacing with mine before his thumb rubs circles into my hand. The soft touches soak away my anxiety, making me feel a bit better. Maybe Temari doesn't know as much as she's pretty to know.

His sister glances between us, glaring deep in her face before huffs. "Fine. Don't disappear again though. It looks bad on the Village."

"Ya, ya, ya," he mumbles, rolling his eyes at his sister again. Ro's sight settles on me for a second. His head shakes, a cocky smile on his face as he looks away from me. "Scandalous," he teases, glancing at me again before looking away.

"Says the guy smiling ear to ear," I shoot back, my smile crawling on my face.

"My pretty little lily?" I hum a yes, scanning the partygoers. Lord Fifth seems to have found a puppy while we were gone. A blonde boy with whiskers is chatting his ear off as Gaara nods his head, attention intensely on the boy. "I think you should come over tomorrow."

"To do what?"

"Take a wild guess," he says, tugging me in front of him. Arms fall around my hips, tugging me against Kankuro who's very obviously ready for round two.

"Oh," I utter, heat crawling up my face, making the face paint seem even heavier against my skin.

"We'll get dinner too, but I'm going to have my dessert first," he teases, rubbing circles into my hips and pawing at my thighs.

"I don't know how you have so much stamina."

"Because I'm a good shinobi, duh. I can't have my Desert Lily being panned after by a lousy ninja."

——————————————————————

#kankuro sabaku #kankuro oneshot #kankuro sabaku oneshot #naruto shippuden #naruto shippuden oneshot #naruto shippuden x reader #kankuro x reader #kankuro sabaku x reader #naruto shippuden smut #kankuro smut #kankuro sabaku smut

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dayeongi · 8 months

Text

FIGHTING DREAMERS by dayeongi

Chapters: 2/? (9,419 words)

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: Mature

Summary:

Shinobi Entertainment has opened auditions for its new survival show. 150 lucky contestants will go through several missions and fight their way to the top of the top 20, who will debut as a coed group for a limited amount of time before getting signed onto the company. That is; if they can survive the entertainment industry and their own personal drama! Who are you rooting for?

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

NOTICE: I may update a chapter after my friend and beta reader/editor (@macchiato-dreaming22) has had the chance to make some comments! Nothing too big about the story might change, but if you go back and see some subtle differences, that's the reason why! This fic is a constant work in progress.

Tags, etc below!

Relationships: Nara Shikamaru/Temari, Hyuuga Hinata/Uzumaki Naruto, Inuzuka Kiba/Kankurou, Kankurou/Tenten (Naruto), Hyuuga Neji/Tenten, Haruno Sakura/Yamanaka Ino

Characters: Temari (Naruto), Kankurou (Naruto), Hyuuga Hinata

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Idols, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Main couples are shikatema & naruhina, Kankuro’s love problems, Performing Arts, the villains are capitalism and the entertainment industry, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Modern Era, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sexism, Body Image, References to Depression, Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Sex, Bullying, Friendship, Unrequited Love, Alternate Universe - Music, inspired by produce 101, Inspired by Real Events, this is the moment being a kpop stan since 2010 comes in handy, not so much about the romance as it is about the challenges of the ent industry and personal growth, romance is fun tho, Self-Esteem Issues, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Discovery, Personal Growth

#shikatema #naruhina #sand siblings #shikatema fanfiction #naruhina fanfiction #naruto fanfiction #naruto idols au #fighting dreamers au #my fic #my fic updates

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kakashissimp · 1 year

Text

I’m not a Kankuro girlie, but this picture has me on my knees😩

(This image doesn’t belong to me! It was found on Pinterest. If anyone knows the artist’s handle, please let me know!!)

#kankuro #naruto #Kankuro fanart #Kankuro art

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bakapandy · 2 years

Note

All right, so I wanted to share this with you, and anyone interested. So there's a little something I've noticed about the sand sibs, which prompted a little headcanon. So you see, I'm a nerd who likes reading the wiki pages of my fave characters, and while reading theirs, I've noticed smth. Now, we know that in the timeskip between og Naruto and Shippuden the characters grow obviously, they get older, taller, and most of them gain weight. The thing with the sand sibs, is that while Gaara and Temari do gain a respectable amount in this time, Kankuro doesn't. Like, Gaara goes from 36 or 35 kg in chunin exams? To 50 in Shippuden. Which yeah, it's good to know the kid has been eating better, but Kank just went from 60 to 61 kg in 3 years. Which led me to believe Temari was behind it. Thinking about what they could've done with their father gone, in the period where they would have started bonding as sibs, I think it kinda makes sense for Tem to put Kank on a diet while making sure Gaara eats 5 meals a day. She'd do it in a "Kank your love of burgers is getting concerning and if we don't do smth about it, you'll end up like the Akimichi kid from the Leaf", kinda way. And like, Kank would dismiss her advice at first, but then start thinking about it, and "perhaps Temari is right" (ofc she always is), so he listens to her, and she takes care of both of them. And just, the image of them coming back from training hungry, and Temari putting a toast with some eggs and water in front of Kank, while preparing a whole meal for Gaara is hilarious. And I think it's true, cause in Boruto, when Tem isn't there anymore, you can see Kank has let himself go again, and has gained some chub (which all things considered, could've come as a result of alcohol consumption, as it was stated in Gaara hidden, that Kank enjoys drinking).

Wanted to bring this up, cause Kishi is consistent with how he draws everyone except Kank. He's the only sib we've ever seen shirtless, in the ep where Sakura heals him, and there he was thin with a narrow waist, but. If you've ever seen the beach ending (an ending where the characters go to the beach) we can see the sand sibs in their swimsuits (it's the one where Gaara is wearing that weird full body piece), and Kank is in the background, but we see him shirtless again, and he clearly has some chub there. Like, Kishi just choose a body type for the kid and stick with it. Anyways, thoughts?

Hmm.....idk I never really saw where this whole "kankurou is pudgey/fat" thing comes from and like it's fine, I believe in body type rep and I like seeing the designs where he does have it, but bringing up this kinda body-shamey response from the sand sibs is reading a bit too much into it I think.

And like....61kg when he's 175cm in Shippuden is like....not heavy at all...it's very average frankly if not lean (61kg is only like 135 lb at 175cm which is like 5' 9", even in part one he's 165cm which is like 5' 6" at 135 lb is still pretty average...) which is why I put very little stock into the weights in general.

My characterization of him is that he's always been on the stockier side and wears baggy clothing...which I guess is where the pudgy characterization comes from...but I mean, it's really just how clothing has weight and fall on the body when it's loose?

idk like obviously this is my style and interpretation but I'd say it's pretty close to how he's typically drawn in canon?

#ask pandy

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fallen-in-dreams · 6 months

Text

CHAPTER THREE on AO3.

Chapters on Tumblr: One. Two.

Pairing: Gaara/Sakura.

Summary: Her descent into madness came after her friends were all dead and before she was sold off like livestock. To him. He knew a thing or two about madness. And there was peace to be found in the violence of that madness. Even if only for a time. Canon divergence AU.

Rated: Mature.

Chapter word count: 4,812.

Status: Ongoing.

Reminder: the tags/warnings are important.

Enjoy. :)

Warnings: dark themes. Arranged marriage (not what you think). Eventual smut (level and degree of that warning being necessary is subjective). Death. Suicide talk. Self-harm. PTSD – expect some well-known symptoms and some not well-known ones. Please don’t read if you’re triggered by psychological &/or emotional-related trauma and effects.

For reference: Menbā: a derogatory term for someone who is considered a criminal. Uragirimono: traitor, turncoat, etc.:

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Oh God, I'm thrown. I am only happy on my own. My heart grows harder, it wants to perform. And I only ever feel it when I wanted to be torn. To be torn.

-- To Be Torn, by Kyla La Grange

.:.

I can’t do this.

This thought was immediate and harsh in her mind. But after a long shower in which she’d taken full advantage of the supplied body cleaning products as well as an experimental bout of relief from the removable shower head, Sakura was feeling a little better about her situation. A bit of touching here and a lot of extra water pressure there, and she was refreshed, tingly, relaxed, and something akin to happy. Her sensitive nerves drawn out and heightened, even if for a short while. Her building headache had simmered down, and she had a plan of sorts in mind. Well, more like mental images and a bullet-point list of things to do.

Acting like a normal human being had not been on that itinerary, but it should have been expected. She didn’t want any more suspicion to be cast on her. She scoffed at herself for her stupidity. Sakura needed a clean escape for when the time came.

If it comes at all.

She scoffed again. Her new housemates were clearly expecting her to be normal.

“Clean up,” Kankuro had told her (while she was panicking and ignoring him). “Join us for dinner later.”

Might as well get ready for that.

Standing in her room, holding a towel to her damp body, and rifling carelessly through the boring choices in the almost bare closet, Sakura sighed and grunted at each and every lame item of clothing inside. She didn’t have this in her. Not anymore. The old Sakura would’ve just politely followed direction and smiled in all the right places while she secretly basked in the selection of free clothes at her disposal. That Sakura would be tossing out all the simple items and scrounging around for the prettiest and most lavish looking clothes. Because she always had someone to impress, even after she stopped acting like a cliché fangirl and finally grew up. It used to be Sasuke then close friends…

Ugh.

Sakura shuddered, angry at her regressive thoughts.

No Sasuke. No friends. Not anymore.

She hadn’t had down time for twelve months and it was messing with her head. Now that she had time to dwell on everything and everyone that had happened and disappeared from her life, her intrusive thoughts didn’t know when to stop. In that moment, she missed the cold comfort of working too much. It had kept her alive, warm, and hot and cold all over. But now? Now, she couldn’t distract herself from the pain that came with having nothing else to do.

She shook slightly and pushed her emotions down as much as she could, her fist clenching a particularly top that reminded her of a bland looking version of her old qipao dress, just in shirt form. Just remembering the ghastly outfits that she used to wear made the clanging in her head echo louder. Sakura closed her eyes desperately.

Not out of the woods yet.

She was still in that tree stump, bleeding, broken, and surrounded by foreign ninja. Blood did not dry quickly in the warm, forest climates, so she was still sticky and wet. Her body shuddered with the phantom sensations. But she couldn’t let her guard down now. Not even here.

I can do this.

She had to. Sakura had no idea what was waiting her during this dinner with Gaara and Kankuro, but if she couldn’t do this one simple thing, then what hope did she have for the rest of her stay here? She nodded to herself as her body trembled; pins and needles preceding a rush of exhaustion.

But it was with renewed determination that Sakura sorted through the closet, putting aside anything that reminded her of the old days. There were no knickers or bras (she wasn’t well-built, so to speak, anyway), but she found a formal-looking top and a pair of trousers that matched. The pockets made her think they were men’s trousers, but she didn’t care. Black sandals at the bottom of the closet were an easy choice to go with the grey, black, and red colour palette of the clothes and she slipped into them, running a distracted hand over herself, like she was trying to smooth down wrinkles. She found a brush and quickly ran it through her hair, wincing at the slightly painful tugs. It had been too long since she’d taken care of herself.

Sakura surveyed the stranger in the full-length mirror behind the large closet door and sighed. It would have to do. She wouldn’t be winning any beauty pageants but that hardly mattered anyway. She checked the time. Kankuro said that dinner would be served at six. She sat on the edge of the bed and twiddled her thumbs, trying not to think of anything in particular and just keeping her eye on the slow-moving hand of the clock on her wall. Idleness was going to be the death of her.

When it was time, she narrowed her eyes at it for a moment before reluctantly standing.

Here goes.

Before leaving the room, Sakura took out the stick of charcoal she kept in her travel bag. She didn’t have the right type of sharp implements for this job, funnily enough, so this would have to do for now.

I’ll cut it open when I find one.

Taking a deep breath, she used the charcoal to draw the kanji for “one” on the back of her bedroom door, nice and clear and in the upper corner, so she’d have plenty of space to write more. She wasn’t going to be here long enough to cover the entire door, but the anal part of her wanted it to look neat and tidy anyway. Satisfied with her handiwork, Sakura tossed the charcoal back in her bag. Dark, obsidian eyes flashed in her mind, and she hesitated, staring at the compressed carbon residue masquerading as a drawing implement. She swallowed heavily. Memories pushed at the edge of her mind of the artist this had belonged to. Her friend.

Sakura closed the bag to shut out those thoughts and took another deep breath to steel herself.

Happy place. Happy place. Happy place. Happy place. Happy place. Happy place.

“No such place.”

Sakura swivelled at the sound of the voice but saw nothing.

I’m talking to myself again.

She hadn’t forgotten that mirage with her face. And it hadn’t forgotten her either, it seemed.

Sakura opened the door and quietly closed it behind herself. The smell of food hit her, making her stomach rumble painfully, and she could hear voices in the dining room downstairs. She froze up, hand against the wall to steady herself.

Not now, she told her anxiety. What the fuck? Calm down.

After a moment she was able to plaster something that looked like a smile to her face and make her way down the internal staircase. Her palms sweating, she stepped into the light of the dining room. Kankuro and Gaara ceased their conversation and Sakura swallowed her smile. Her face slackened as Kankuro pulled out a chair for her and the heavy eyes of the Kazekage watched her closely as she settled herself into it.

The smell of the food hit her nostrils once more, like a physical force and (once again) her stomach growled. Though far less painfully this time. She waited for the pleasantries to pass and gave the brothers a nod before digging into her rice and vegetables. She felt almost human. The food was so good that Sakura wondered who had cooked it. Neither of them struck her as the chef type. But then, appearances were often deceiving.

Kankuro explained that Temari was on a mission and Sakura nodded again. Gaara said a few things about some kind of renovations and his brother engaged him in conversation over idle topics. It was a casual setting, and nobody seemed interested in any of the heavier issues they were all thinking about. The elephant in the room, as it were. Well, maybe they were, but Sakura didn’t care one bit. If they wanted to take this engagement thing seriously, that was their problem.

But she did find herself curious how opinions in Suna had formed on the current ninja climate. What those in this room thought about everything. If they even knew the extent of Danzo’s reach. Or if they just saw him, and the rest of the ninja, as simply another leader and their hidden village.

Not that she had the courage to ask.

This engagement is mindboggling enough.

She wasn’t going to go along with it. She had a plan. It was simple, really: pretend to be normal, play at being the demure bride-to-be, scope out her options, and then think of how to evade her Root shadow long enough to get the fuck out of the village. They were very good points to consider, in her opinion. She’d done so much more crazy things on assassination missions. Of course, those were months ago, and she’d been running from one fight to the next ever since then.

All that blood does a good job of distracting me. Sticky, thick, ugly substance that is surprisingly easy to wash out.

From her clothes, at least.

Still, she was getting out of here, regardless of the methodology. And the idea that she might have to kill that shadowed, masked freak on her way out brought a small smirk to the corner of her mouth.

“Dessert?” Kankuro asked when they were all finished.

Sakura nodded and he left the room for a minute. A minute of Gaara’s curious, silent stares. Then she was feeding the hungry animal inside of her again. The one without the ability to snap back at her. She had no idea what this confectionary was called, but it tasted like a mix between ice-cream and salted caramel. She remembered suddenly that the Kazekage wasn’t a fan of sweets.

Where did I learn that from?

She wasn’t sure, but the redhead was eating his dessert, so it was clearly sugar-free. Sakura smiled slightly at that. Some things never changed. She swallowed the last mouthful and placed her spoon down, licking her lips greedily. Sakura hadn’t tasted anything this good in a long time. In between mission locations her food was either standard, dry ninja rations or involved caught meat that she either did or did not have time to cook first as well as whatever fruits and nuts she could scavenge. Sometimes she could steal food off her targets or sneak something out of a vendor, the ninja way, on her way wherever she was going. She always ate and ran.

A home cooked meal had been off the menu for almost two years.

Since Danzo took office.

She scowled lightly.

Stop fucking regressing.

She fiddled with the cutlery for a few moments before remembering she wasn’t alone in the room.

“I realise this is unorthodox and I apologise.” Gaara’s deep voice interrupted her errant thoughts.

Sakura blinked heavily and stared owlishly at him, her skin warming with the shame of embarrassment. What had he been talking about? He continued talking as though she had heard every word.

“Relations between our villages has been strained.”

No shit.

“But maybe this new agreement can help.”

Not likely.

Either Gaara was incredibly naïve, or he was just placating her. She didn’t know which was worse. She knew Danzo. This arrangement was nothing more than a distraction. That Root shadow was the one he should be more concerned with. The dark, ugly man whose only purpose here was likely to look for a way past the seals of the Kazekage mansion for no reason other than to fuck with everyone inside of it.

He can fuck himself for all I care.

Sakura leant back in her chair, returning Gaara’s intense stare. A bubble of confidence suddenly welled up inside her and she managed to keep her face straight as they held each other’s gaze. The pale green of his irises danced in the light of the candelabra in the middle of the table, and she was reminded of a green sapphire her mother had gifted her when she became chunin; a pale hue that she liked despite being lacklustre in any form of bright or ostentatious colours. It burned in her heart as a distant, longing memory. Gaara’s eyes suddenly reminded her of home.

And I kind of find it hot. Wacko.

Sakura swallowed heavily and splayed her hands over the tabletop, shifting her eyes away from Gaara.

You win that round.

“Please feel free to ask for anything you may want or need,” he continued, as though they hadn’t just been staring avidly into each other’s eyes.

Like star-crossed lovers too stupid to realise it.

She nodded her head, not sure her voice would come out as strong as she’d want it to. Gaara didn’t seem to mind but Kankuro was clearly becoming at least mildly curious regarding her silence. He cleared his throat, but she ignored him. She had no idea what to say to Gaara’s idea of hospitality, anyway.

Gaara cocked his head to the side in much the way that Sakura had seen former Hokage when they sensed nearby Anbu. She forced herself not to mirror his movement as she tried to detect the subtle chakra they would be giving off and sighed when she ultimately failed.

Suna Anbu must use a different subtle method to gain their Kage’s attention.

“Temari might not get back for a while,” Kankuro said to his brother.

Had Gaara said something? No. There seemed to be some kind of intensity in the way he was looking at his older brother. Sakura had heard that sometimes siblings were close enough to simply understand each other that well. Much like two people who’d spent way too much time together. And it could have something to do with the Anbu that Sakura just knew was there.

She clenched her fists to hide the trembling.

“Temari is not the only kunoichi absent from the village.”

“True.” Kankuro sat back in his chair and smiled genially at Gaara before turning to Sakura. “Gaara and I might be stuffy and useless–” Gaara huffed slightly. “–but we know when we’re out of our depth with women.” He chuckled.

“Speak for yourself.”

“I am,” Kankuro said. “And for you too.”

“Hm.”

“You should be glad I’m including you. Wouldn’t want to feel left out, right?” The older brother laughed as Gaara sighed and leant back in his chair.

Sakura relaxed her hands and splayed them over the table, staring down at her empty plate.

The brothers exchanged a few more words before Gaara cocked his head to the side again.

Anbu getting busy tonight.

At least someone was, she supposed.

“You’re not better with women than I am,” Kankuro said, almost as though he’d forgotten there was an actual woman in the room with them. He puffed out his chest. “They’re lining up to date me.”

Gaara scoffed softly, eliciting a soliloquy about the perks of being the Kazekage’s brother from Kankuro.

A heavy weight settled on Sakura’s chest, and she felt a slight sting, biting her lip to swallow a light gasp. She shifted in her chair.

“Well, I guess you don’t have to be good with women,” Kankuro mumbled once he cottoned onto the fact that no-one in the room was impressed.

They both glanced at Sakura as she fiddled with her thumbs, crossing, and uncrossing her feet self-consciously. She had nothing to add to their weird, sibling dynamic. She’d never had any brothers and sisters and these two were acting very strange. Sakura tuned them out as her vision blurred slightly and she closed her eyes. She was feeling light-headed and just wanted to head back to her room. When she opened her eyes again, the brothers were back to exchanging barbs with each other.

Do they always talk this long after dinner?

She had to leave the room. Sakura tried to think of an excuse to get away. In the meantime, she just needed to act normal.

“You’re not normal.”

Her head snapped up and she glared at the fourth person in the room, even as her heart raced, ignoring that conversation around her had suddenly gone quiet.

Not even a person.

It hit her with startling clarity, and she almost let out a rasp of laughter.

I can’t pretend to be normal.

.:.

Pity.

That was the dull light in their eyes. Even in Gaara’s.

She didn’t want it.

Sakura excused herself with a quick, mumbled apology and no explanation, but remembered to bow in respect at the last second before fleeing the room and half-running up the staircase. Silence followed her until she slammed the door behind herself, and she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

Sakura gasped and stretched her fingers outward as she trembled. What Gaara and Kankuro must’ve thought meant very little to her other than the inevitable embarrassment for their next encounter. At least, that was what she told herself. It seemed that even after two years of thinking she’d grown numb to it, the old Sakura who was easily embarrassed and cared what other people thought of her wasn’t long dead after all. But she wanted it to be. She wanted to take a kunai to the throat of her old self and be done with it.

She was an idiot.

And a loser. And weak. And pathetic. And all the other things Danzo told her she was now. He was an arsehole but very right about her. Why else was she still here and not half-way to the North Sea? She could be almost anywhere right now.

I am an idiot.

But she was better off now. In many ways. Who she’d been before, that silly girl hadn’t been able to save Lady Tsunade from the coup. From Danzo’s kunai. She hadn’t been able to follow Shizune out of the village. She’d been less than useless as fires and smoke and the cries of battle raged around her. She hadn’t been able to find any of her friends before it was finally over. Not even in the ashes. She’d been too weak to kill the Root following her as she tried. Broken earth and broken ribs; she fallen so hard.

Sakura let out another gasp that sounded suspiciously like a sob.

And now she couldn’t even pretend to be normal for a few hours to keep anyone from asking questions she didn’t want to answer. Maybe she was still that idiotic, weak child after all. Gaara and Kankuro probably thought so too. Were they laughing at her? Or only sighing in disappointment? She was a major disappointment.

“They think we’re insane.”

We?

Sakura chose to ignore that train of thought. She had made a fool of herself enough for one night. Her first night in Suna and she was barely holding it together. Gaara and Kankuro didn’t know her well enough to realise just how far off the rails she was, which was a point in her favour. But that wasn’t going to last forever. She needed to get a grip. She really didn’t want to hear their questions if they thought to ask them.

Sakura settled her nerves as she moved toward the bed, only now realising there was something on her dresser. A package. She stopped suddenly, narrowing her eyes at it from the middle of the room.

How did that get there?

Her brain flitted back and forth between weird genjutsu ideas and those times Gaara sensed Anbu nearby. Hm. She wondered if there were any animal summons in the village that were difficult to detect. The package looked like a normal one, with her name written across the small card on top. There was even a bow knot on it, like one would tie to a present.

Weird.

Sakura walked slowly over to it and performed the few detection jutsu she knew from her Root commander’s training. A series of quick, simple hand signs later and there was no chakra reaction from the wrapped package. Not a chakra bomb, or anything of the sort, at least. She wished she had an actual kunai as she tentatively tapped the parcel with her forefinger. She hadn’t sensed any chakra signatures in the mansion during the dinner, so she decided those Anbu had to have delivered it. Or someone else who deliberately suppressed their chakra inside their own, friendly village.

Even weirder.

She fingered the card gently, reading the short message silently. It was from two people called Matsuri & Yukata. Sakura vaguely remembered the names like a distant memory from a past life come back to haunt her. She had a visual a few minutes later as she rolled their names over her tongue. Right. Gaara’s very emphatic fangirls. She smiled at that.

What do they want?

Throwing caution to the wind, Sakura roughly undid the bow and opened the package, tossing the ribbon and now broken box aside carelessly. She held her gift up to the lightbulb on the ceiling. It was a cactus. She frowned, then reread the card. They didn’t mention what kind of cactus it was, and she’d never seen it’s like before.

“No doubt Lord Kazekage didn’t have much prepared for your arrival. We’ll fix that, don’t worry. We decided to get you a ‘Welcome to Suna, Lady Sakura!’ present, so WELCOME!”

The note ended in several smiley faces after their names, clearly added for dramatic effect. Emphatic seemed to be their default setting. This didn’t bode well. And what did they mean by fixing that? Were they going to buy her better clothes? Some feminine products? Or maybe some entertainment, like reading material. She smiled lightly at that. As long as they didn’t expect her to go to the store with them.

Nobody is ready to see my anxiety react to that.

Sakura put the cactus on her bedside table, pushing it to the edge furthest from her, then sat on the bed and sighed. She looked around the room. Really looked. Aside from the barest of furniture and no personal touches, which was to be expected, it did well as a temporary guest room. Nothing glamorous, just functional.

Almost like she was in a low-budget hotel.

She glanced at the cactus before turning away, kicking off her shoes and climbing under the bed covers, fully dressed. Sakura stared up at the ceiling.

Okay, I’m fine.

There was no threat here. She rolled over on her side, facing away from the bedside table, and closed her eyes. But the night was a cruel bitch and as she drifted off to sleep, that familiar pull into the dark, broken recesses of her mind was her only warning before everything went black.

.:.

She was back in the forest, stumbling as she tried to find a hiding spot to avoid her pursuers. The mission had gone wrong, on an epic scale, and now she was the only one still standing. The captain had died first, the other Anbu shortly after. Their screams followed her as Sakura moved between the trees, blundering along as she tried to rush her tired legs. She kept falling against the wide oaks and tripping over exposed roots. The cries in the distance were no longer her Anbu escorts. They were her hunters.

Sakura pushed herself off a thick tree trunk but instead of barrelling her way through the brush, she toppled forward, and face planted. She wasn’t cognizant enough to feel embarrassed, merely laying there, breathing in the musk of forest floor, then gasping when something started crawling over back and an insect decided to go for her mouth. With effort, she pushed herself onto her knees, spat the bug out, and then looked around anxiously.

What to do, where to go… she did her best to hide her tracks as she stood shakily, then gasped at the renewed pain in her side. She had no idea where to go and any minute now, they were going to zero in on her position.

“Where are you, little menbā? My little uragirimono”

No time to debate it. The hollowed-out tree trunk she’d fallen next to was large enough, she supposed. Dragging her pitiful arse along and gripping her travel bag like it was a lifeline, Sakura hauled herself into the relative safety of the trunk; the overgrown shrubbery hiding her from sight. Her vision blurred. Her feet were suddenly numb. Darkness crept in around her. And she was gone.

A dull thud. Her eyes snapped open. A distant soft light illuminated the ceiling above her as it blinked into existence. Her conscious mind was fuzzy as she blinked heavily, registering that she’d just been asleep. But something felt… wrong. Her body tingled as heavy breathing caught her attention and she stiffened. She turned her head to the side. Sakura let out an ear-piercing scream. Two beady eyes stared back at her as she tensed. When the breath from her short-lived scream finally left her, she gasped and then pushed away from the mirage. A maniacal grin on its face, it stood as she managed to back into the middle of the bed, just watching her. Nothing about it had changed: the same wounds that made no sense, the same torn and bloodied clothes.

My dream… no, my nightmare.

She was fully awake now.

Sakura grasped her chest, unable to break eye contact with it and unable to calm herself down.

“You’re going to die here,” it said, its mouth moving out of synch with the words. “And nobody will care.”

Sakura scrambled further away, gasping, and toppling over the edge of the bed. She stayed on the floor for a few minutes, shaking and trying to remember the breathing exercises she’d learned during her work at the Konoha hospital.

Breath in. Breathe out. In. Deeply. Out. Deeply. Rinse and repeat.

When it finally started to work, she turned around and continued the mantra in her head as she peered over the bed. The mirage was still there. Her race started racing but it didn’t give her time to resuscitate her courage. The mirage cocked its head then flickered and disappeared.

“Fuck.”

Sakura let out a loud groan. She slammed her hand down on the mattress, screaming silently at herself for letting this get her so worked up. She hated this moment of peace. She hated being idle and weak and forced to remember. Tears burned her skin and she sobbed. She wished she was back in the forest. Everything in there made sense. She was running for her life but at least she didn’t have the time to dwell on it. It was better. It was pure.

Sakura groaned again. She was self-aware enough to know how fucked up that thought was. She pulled herself up onto the bed and returned to her breathing exercises.

Breath in. Breathe out. In. Deeply. Out. Deeply. Rinse and repeat.

Her skin was moist as she hugged herself tightly. She’d gone to bed in the outfit she’d worn to dinner, and they were currently sticking to her like the sticky, sweaty sparring clothes did after a heavy workout. She laughed softly. Of all the things. But hopefully this incident was just the exhaust pipe of her emotions, and it wouldn’t be like this every night. She’d gone without sleep for large periods before, so if this happened again, she knew what to do.

Sakura pulled her legs up to her chin. Her first night in the Kazekage mansion and she was out of control. She listened for sounds of her housemates. If they weren’t heavy sleepers, they could’ve heard her initial scream. Her own eardrums hadn’t managed to absorb the sound, due to her distress, but she was pretty sure it had been loud.

Her heart hammered in her chest as the minutes ticked by, but nobody came. Relief flooded through her. Nobody was coming to check on her. That was both insulting and soothing. The last thing she needed was more pitying looks as she tried to explain away her scream.

Her body shuddered as she curled into a foetal position, on top of the bed covers and closed her eyes, hoping for a swift end to it all.

Please let the darkness take me.

She didn’t notice the eye made of sand watching her in the corner of the room as exhaustion finally took her. Nor the concerned frown from its owner.

.:.

#GaaSaku #my fanfiction #fanfiction #A Beautiful Lie

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fifth-kazekage · 11 months

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be who you are for your priiiiiiiiiiide 🌈🍉🍇🍍🍋🥝🍓

Okay, I asked Kankuro what the significance of the little images was, and he called me a fruitcake.

So.

Thank you?

#gaara #gaara answers #anon #sabaku no gaara #sabaku no kankuro

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mokutone · 11 months

Text

a mix of inked drawings! some older + younger kakashis, anbu tenzōs, and a kankuro :) im gonna fill these in with a lot of heavy black.

#my art #naruto #yamato #kakashi #tenzō #yamato tenzo #kankuro #image desc in alt text

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abdulraveman · 10 months

Text

Nishikido Ryo for GQJapan 2023.06.23 in Dior

rough translation of his interview below

GQJapan Interview with Nishikido Ryo for Netflix Series "Let's Get Divorced "I wondered if it was okay to live more selfishly".

We interviewed Nishikido Ryo, who returns to tv dramas after a four-year absence to act in the role of a man who is playing both of the main characters in "Let's Get Divorced," which has been available exclusively worldwide on Netflix since June 22 (Thursday). He talks at length about everything from the appeal of the character Kano Kyoji to "What is true coolness?”

Actor Nishikido Ryo is back.

In the Netflix series "Let's Get Divorced", a new member of parliament, Shoji Taishi (Matsuzaka Tori), and a national actress, Kurosawa Yui (Naka Riisa), who play a friendly couple for the sake of public appearances, overcome various obstacles and work together to achieve their goal of "getting a divorce". Nishikido plays Kano Kyoji, a "sexy self-styled artist" who meets Yui by chance and becomes close to her.

His presence brings a thrill to Yui, who has grown tired of their married life, as he goes to play Pachinko every day and creates mysterious "artworks" in his garage-like home, which he calls his studio. Yui says that he is "a person who’s alive yet dead." He is uninhibited in what he says and does, and is certainly a man of a certain sex appeal.

This film was co-written by Kudo Kankuro and Oishi Shizuka. They did not write one story each, but rather took turns writing a little bit at a time, as if they were exchanging diaries. Kudo-san said of Kyoji, "I wondered if women find that kind of thing sexy. To be honest, I had no idea, so I'm glad Oishi-san wrote it for me (laughs). I understood now that it’s onscreen.” Oishi, on the other hand, said, "He’s like a Zenkyoto (a radical student leftist) man from a generation older than mine. It may not be the kind of character that scriptwriters today would write, but the older generation liked that kind of character" (both from press materials).

Indeed, the character has the air of an 'outcast hero' from a Showa-era girls' manga. How did Nishikido himself see the appeal of such a character?

“I think it's about not being influenced by your surroundings. I like what I think is good, and I am interested in what I am interested in, but not in what I am not interested in. With so much information available on TV and social networking sites, I think it's quite a difficult thing to do, and it makes you feel insecure. But Kyoji is not afraid to be true to himself. Or rather, he probably doesn't even think about how he is seen.”

What is true coolness?

There is a scene in the film where opposition MP Go Soda (Yamamoto Kōshi), who is the candidate opposing Taishi, gives his best speech and the audience is engulfed by it, when Kyoji, who is present, clearly points out Soda's misstatement. This scene shows what is at the core of this seemingly free-spirited man. He is aloof, but has a passion lurking deep within him. This part of him is so compatible with the image of Nishikido himself that I feel that no one else could have played the role but Nishikido. When I told him this, he said, "Really? I'm glad to hear you say so.”

“Of course I hoped that Kyoji's coolness would be attractive, but that doesn't mean I should try to make myself attractive or act sexy. It would be very embarrassing/cringe-worthy, the moment it is found out. I was performing while praying "I hope it looks like that."”

By the way, there are several scenes in the drama where Kyoji smokes, and it is said that Nishikido's suggestion was used in one of the scenes.

“When they asked me what to do after smoking outdoors, I said, 'Why don't you put it out on the soles of your shoes?' You can't litter, and it wouldn't be cool to step on it and pick it up. It's not really an idea, though.”

The relationship between Yui and Kyoji eventually becomes known toTaishi, and the two confront each other directly towards the end of the story. Born and raised in a political family, Taishi exchanges words with Kyoji, a type he has never met before, and honestly admires him, saying 'You have something I don't have' and 'You are endlessly free, amazing'. But after he leaves, Kyoji throws the paper cup he was holding onto the floor.

“It's amazing that Taishi would come to that place, isn’t it? Kyoji probably already felt defeated at that point. He (Kyoji) thought he was going to bite him, but he didn't. Because Daishi probably didn't even think he was bitten, and he probably left without even realising he had won, right?"

After saying this, Ryo added, in typical Osaka fashion, "I don't know!" he added with a laugh.

“I don't really know. Ah, I just know that when I saw the video of that scene, I thought to myself, "I'm so tiny”. The sense of scale with Taishi was just too different. (Laughs)”

When I ask him “Who do you think is cooler, Taishi or Kyoji?” he said "They are both cool, aren't they?"

“Sorry for the half-assed answer, but .......I think each of them have their own cool and bad parts, not just the two of them, but everyone in this piece is cool in their own way. I thought Yui, Henry, and Yui's manager all had their own coolness.”

I want to have fun doing fun things.

Kyoji's attitude of knowing who he is & doing what he wants, which is the basis of his coolness, is also something that is quite difficult to maintain while living in society. Were there any parts that resonated with you?

“I myself can say that I am living as I please, or I should say, I am living the life I want to live. It is not that I am only doing what I want to do, but I think it is okay to live more selfishly, and I have come to value my time more”

As noted at the beginning of this article, this is the first time in four years that he has appeared in a drama. In addition, among the dramas in which he has appeared in the past, Ryusei no Kizuna (2008) and Gomen ne Seishun! (2014), which, like this drama, was written by Kudo Kankuro and produced by Isoyama Akira, and both were directed by Kaneko Fuminori.

“When I was working on 'Ryusei no Kizuna', Kaneko-san kept telling me to 'be careful with my enunciation” I thought I was speaking clearly. When I met him for the first time in a while in Gomen ne Seishun, I was told that my speaking had improved a lot. I think he said that once or twice this time, too. He only praised my fluency (laughs)."

Producer Isoyama, who was present at the interview, added, "Of course, that's not all. (Director Kaneko) was very complimentary, saying 'You thought it through very well’.” To which ryo replied "I ‘m embarrassed that he thought so! It's so lame” He exclaimed in agony.

“I just didn't happen to have any chance in the past four years, so I didn't really feel that I had a gap in my drama career. Now that I've been approached, I just want to do my best, and if I'm invited to do something like this, I want to go anywhere. Not only in acting, but I also want to enjoy myself while doing things that look like fun.”

He goes where his heart takes him - to be happy, comfortable and free. It is this lack of self-consciousness that attracts and holds people's attention.

#nishikido ryo #let's get divorced #rikon shiyou yo #translation

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bogbees · 7 months

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ok these ones are more ab world building sunagakure bc i love the sand sibs and hate how kishimoto went ab that village

Concept: sunakagure was carved like a bowl out of a mountain. The kazekage's building dead centre at the bottom - prob prone to flooding 2:33 AM · Jun 19, 2017

But prob not because the founding fathers of suna would have designed it with a flood drain system and pipes for indoor plumbing or whatever

Bc it HAS to be an oasis. Has to be. There's got to be a bloody underground lake - which would be rad imagine sneaking off to swim

Anyway built like a bowl. Buildings are built like 100ft from the top of the mountain I guess and gradually get lower and lower

Like Santorini just stairs everywhere everyone has killer calves from all the stairs - how gaara can exist as a ninja bc of all the stairs

Anyway I just like making suna cooler than it actually is, god there's so much wasted potential there. Just make Konoha but made out of rock

Like the buildings are made of rock, looks like old Cario or Jaislamer, with basic tunnels in the rock surrounding the village I guess

But with the underground lake, they have greenery and everyone uses colourful fabrics for shade and colours to accent shops and homes

It's not just sandy, windy and basic I like to think.

Naruto visits and Kankuro is like "I warned you about the stairs bro" 4:25 PM · Jun 27, 2017

Suna tots has bubble tea. Fuck it. 8:37 AM · Jul 29, 2017

Suna…. would have public baths too…… 4:20 AM · Aug 1, 2017

i've been looking at some many images of gol gumbaz i completely forgot that my vers of the suna admin building has a central courtyard 1:22 AM · Aug 2, 2017

cause i imaged the first kage to have used the house like the white house is used in america?? and the garden is just something nice

More rad suna: Everyone wears knee length dresses and leggings under their cloaks. There's no difference between men and women's fashion 5:14 AM · Oct 25, 2017

And veils and long dresses/ skirts are a symbol of wealth and are only worn by high society or at weddings by bride and groom

Ninjas are expected to wear midriff exposing outfits to "highlight their power" and to remind guests "yo fucks I got a guy who can kill you"

But only at fancy parties. Ninja's usually wear whatever the fuck they want. See a guy wearing a t-shirt? Yeah he's a ninja

So say high society wind country throws a party and invites the sand sibs to it. They'll all wear veils and long skirts

Temari and Kankuro will bare their midriff while Gaara will not - kazekage, you know him anywhere -- tho u really shouldn't technically ??

Temari hates the class system and only dresses up for important events. Kankuro loves dressing up for every event. They're both best dressed

Gaara… Gaara just wears a nice casual dress and pants and throws on his white scarf over his head. They hate him bc he's beautiful still!

Temari eventually drops Wind country fashion for Fire country fashion 5:32 AM · Oct 25, 2017

#bogs' muttering #the great naruto twitter to tumblr transfer #naruto #i drew these back when i went off ab it but in a sketchbook lol

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bridgetotheskyyy · 5 months

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chapter four.

masterlist

Chapter summary: Gaara shares his past, there's a cactus, and you get a letter . . .

Chapter warnings: sexual content, 18+, psychoactive elements, angst, drama

Word count: 13k

A/N: I’m not completely satisfied with the pacing of this one, So, I hope y’all are okay with this being the chapter where Everything Happens lmfaooo. Once again, please forgive any errors you might see. I was slightly less hawkish with this chapter to get it out. Thank you and hope you enjoy!

Read on ao3 here

“Ah, I see.” Baki’s voice dipped with disappointment.

Gaara and Temari had returned to brief Baki on everything, though Temari did most of the heavy-lifting in explaining. Kankuro was absent, though; the moment they had returned, he had taken it upon himself to continue his sub-Kazekage duties and, two days into their return to Sunagakure, they hadn’t seen much of him since.

“There was always a risk,” Baki said. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad Lord Kazekage and Lady (Y/n) were able to enjoy their time, short though it was. And …” Baki set a sheet of paper aside, brows drawn together in thought. “that Lady (Y/n) was able to return relatively unscathed.”

Gaara shared in Baki’s discreet concern; you had said so little to him during the trip back, and after being checked thoroughly by medical nin, you were sent to bed for vital rest. Your accoster had no assailants they needed to worry about. They even had a sea-side town ready to assist them if they needed anything as a payoff. From a perspective that was coldly shinobi, it wasn’t a bad deal.

But Gaara continued to replay the scene in his head — his sand wrapped around the man who’d assaulted you, his rage, your pleading, your voice so small, so helpless.

I frightened her.

It had been long since Gaara had felt a guilt quite like this — since he’d felt an anger like that. And now the shame, like the anger, threatened to drown him. It weighed his every step.

You, someone he came to see more and more as his future wife.

“In the meantime, we’ll tighten security,” Temari told Gaara. “No more trips or lavish shopping sprees until the news of this has died down. Hell,” Temari shrugged, “maybe even until after the wedding.”

Gaara felt Temari’s stare but did not take the bait.

“Lord Kazekage …?” Baki began measuredly. “Is there something you’d like to add?”

It was a moment before Gaara answered, grimacing. “I was a fool … and rash.”

“Gaara,” Temari cooed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “No …”

Your pleading lived in his mind, and your voice resurrected ghosts. All the ones he had killed, all the blood shed in the name of his bloodlust, his soullessness … Hundreds, maybe thousands. Gaara chafed against the memory of his old self.

Gaara, please … don’t.

“I feel …” Gaara gripped hard at the arms he had crossed, “as though I’ve … relapsed.”

“Lord …” Baki sounded stricken.

“Gaara, no,” Temari said firmly.

Gaara thought of the desert, of you sleeping beside him. Your trembling breath easing as you fell into slumber beside him was the only peace he had enjoyed that night or since. He’d been so relieved you had come to see him at all. What a miracle.

But he could still smell fear on you. An image spiked in his mind, thorny and awful, of you, eyes wide as you recoiled. Desperate to get away. Gaara squirmed with the thought.

“Anyone would have done the same,” Baki said. “You were only trying to protect Lady (Y/n).”

“Baki’s right,” Temari murmured. “It’s only natural to want to protect the ones you lo —“

Temari paused, touched fingers to her lips, surprised by her own near choice of words.

Love.

Did he love you? How would he know? Maybe not, but … You were becoming precious to him. And yet …

Love is the heart’s desire to serve those precious to us.

If you weren’t someone he loved, you were someone he was coming to love.

Had he ruined things?

He’d been driven by a desire to protect you, true, but it felt a lie to pretend his feelings were strictly heroic, like the liquid hot desire to strangle the man’s neck hadn’t lived beside the need to save you. Gaara stood; Temari’s hand slipped from his shoulder.

“I know what I have to do,” he said.

Gaara knew Temari understood, though she pretended not to. “What …?”

Gaara clenched his fist.

“I have to tell her the truth. About my past.”

You were all right. Physically, at least.

You cradled yourself in bed with a sickened groan as another wave of anxiety set your chest aflame. You pressed a hand to your sternum; the ache there restricted your breathing. Your head was weighed with cotton. You had eaten little, spoken to no one.

You ached for the obliviousness of sleep, where Hideo awaited to make you laugh, where he and you sat under cloudless skies on uneventful days, where he let you rest your head on his leg and drift off to the sound of his voice, where you were anything but who you were.

Your head whirled; your options spider-webbed, each one worse than the last. What could you do now? If you told them about your father’s nefarious plans, would they believe you? Would they understand you had changed and had no intention of hurting Gaara? But you had just such intentions in the tent, determined as you were to let it all end. Only Temari had found you, and Gaara’s waking was the only thing that staved off her suspicions.

I am a fool. You had incriminated yourself by going to his bedside. Your hands wouldn’t be clean because you exposed your father; if anything, it would only look like you were simply trying to cover all your bases.

If you wanted to hurt him, however, you had been given ample opportunities to do so. But —

But but but.

Your webs tangled and knotted. You were selfish. You didn’t want any harm to come to Gaara or his loved ones, but you also didn’t want to sacrifice … whatever this was. This play at a family. This ruse. Despite the panic you suppressed, you had never been so happy.

You touched your lips and remembered the kiss Gaara had left there.

You raised from bed, the sheets pooling around your abdomen. You couldn’t stay here and drive yourself crazy. And … you were sure Gaara and his siblings were worried, along with Baki. But the absence of people had been refreshing. You were alone and thus had no need to perform.

It’s enough. You’ll just go mad.

You dressed appropriately: a simple shirt — your beloved fishnet underneath; it made you look and feel stronger — and pants and heeled sandals. Simple but still pretty. You inspected yourself in the mirror. You combed your hair, combined it again, three times for good measure. You straightened your clothes, eliminating every wrinkle. You wanted to look nice. You liked looking nice, but today it was essential to you. You couldn’t give away your inner turmoil. You wanted Gaara to think you looked nice, too, and, after minutes of excessive grooming, you thought you did. You looked every bit the normal girl you wanted to be. If anyone saw you now, they would see an ordinary villager in Sunagakure.

The necklace gave you away.

What you wouldn’t give to be a normal, ordinary girl. A normal father, a normal family. Hideo was the closest thing you ever had to a normal family bond. Protective and kind. And gone. And you didn’t know how or why.

Or who.

Stop pitying yourself and just go. You twisted the doorknob to exit your room.

“Kankuro? Kankuro! Are you even listening to me?”

Kankuro stamped document after document with automated precision. Only when Temari’s hand came over his own did he pause.

He sighed. “Temari, unless it’s important, please let me get back to work.”

“Look at me.”

Kankuro raised his head, where Temari’s concerned gaze waited for him.

There she goes, being all motherly again …

“How are Gaara and (Y/n)?” he asked, feeling defeated.

Temari withdrew her hand. “We haven’t seen (Y/n) in a while, but the nurses say she’s well. And Gaara, well …” Temari grimaced. “Kankuro, I can’t help but feel like something bad is going to happen.”

Kankuro shot her an exasperated look. “This again? We’ve been over this —“

“No,” Temari intercepted. “Not about (Y/n), just … in general.”

“This sixth sense of yours would’ve been a little more helpful at the beach, y’know.”

The dig was below the belt and Kankuro knew it, instantly regretted it, but Temari seemed not to mind. “Hey, if I wasn’t busy helping you swindle greasy septuagenarians so you could win fancy pirate coins, I probably would’ve been more helpful.”

Kankuro shuffled sheets of paper to find the one demanding attention.

“I know,” he said solemnly.

“Like I said, we all slipped up.” Temari crossed her arms. “I don’t hold it against you. I thought I could talk to you, is all.”

“You can talk to me, Temari.”

Temari cast her gaze to the floor. “I’m worried about Gaara. He’s beating himself up over that rogue ninja … He thinks he relapsed, Kankuro.”

“Relapsed?” Kankuro parroted.

“His word, not mine,” Temari said. “It’s been a long time since he’s been that angry and almost killed someone and enjoyed the prospect of it.” Temari fidgeted. “He says he’s going to tell her everything.”

Kankuro’s eyes widened. “Everything?”

“Yep.” Temari sunk into a nearby chair.

“Well,” Kankuro began. “That’s his business.”

“I can’t help thinking we should interfere. Help him, somehow.”

“No,” Kankuro gave her a pointed look. “If they’re going to get married, there can’t be any secrets. Especially not ones that big. Gaara knows that. His past is one hell of a thing to keep from his fiancé. She deserves to know what she’s getting into.”

Temari faced him. “But his past would be hard to swallow even if she was a ninja. What if she doesn’t understand? If she can’t handle it? And he really likes her … He really likes her.” She paused with this realization, as though it had caught up to her at last. “I can see that. After all, I almost …”

Temari’s sentence died away.

“Only more reason to tell her the truth,” Kankuro said. “If she can’t handle it, then she’s not the one.”

Temari met his eye, the turquoise of hers reminding him so much of their mother. “… What if she leaves him?”

Kankuro’s emotions were tugged by the sorrow in Temari’s voice. Gaara. His little brother, who had lost so, so much, had lived such a harrowing life. Could he take another disappointment? You running away, as the villagers had? Relapse. What a choice of words.

“I trust Gaara,” Kankuro muttered. “He’s stronger than any of us could have imagined, in more ways than one. He knows the risk better than us, too, and what he can handle. The truth has to prevail. After all, what is love based on?”

Temari stared at him crookedly. “When’d you get so smart?”

Kankuro shrugged, secretly thankful for the sudden levity. “When you weren’t looking.” Another shrug. “By watching the two of you.”

“What did you ever do with that medallion, by the way?”

Kankuro dismissed this with a wave of a hand. “Gave it away, like you said.”

Temari doubled back. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Kankuro tossed a sheet of paper. “You were right; anything worth that much should go to the village. In the end, I was happy to be rid of it. Least I could do.”

Temari eyed him as he resumed his stamping. “You’ve really stepped up, Lord Kazekage. I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah, well.” Kankuro chuckled. “Let’s just be grateful it won’t be permanent.”

You forced yourself to eat a balanced meal in the dining hall. You enjoyed the quiet meal and afterward set your mind to finding Gaara and the others — but it turned out you didn’t need to; a servant found you doodling in the hallway who promised to take you to Gaara.

Gaara had sent for you.

He brought you to the roof of the Kazekage’s office. He spoke little; the tension the quiet heightened increased the anxiety already latent in you.

You looked toward him; Gaara’s back was to you, the day’s breeze rustling his hair and the long hem of his crimson coat.

“Gaara …?”

Gaara turned to you. “(Y/n) …” He grimaced, as though the words sitting on his tongue were too bitter for his taste.

You approached him. You had no desire to rush him to speak. Your anxiety spiked a thought — Is he going to confess? — and you drew in a sharp breath. You placed a hand on the railing to steady you, the sandstone stable beneath your palm. You looked out into his village. Cliffs swallowed the village, dramatizing the shadows beginning to creep as the day dwindled.

“We haven’t spoken for a while,” Gaara said. “How’re you feeling?”

“Oh.” Your shrug coincided with a sheepish smile. “Fine … I haven’t been sleeping too well, but otherwise …”

“Perhaps … it’s because we’re not sleeping together anymore,” Gaara said.

Your head shot up, cheeks red. His shy smile dawned realization in you: he’s joking.

“Oh, har-har,” You said. “When did you become so witty?”

“I’ve learned a thing or two from Kankuro, you could say,” Gaara said.

You laughed to yourself. A silence fell, though it was not as awkward as you imagined it might be.

“I am sorry I have spoken to you …”

“It’s all right,” You said. “I’ve been …” You struggled, drumming your hands on the railing. “I mean. Gaara, I’ve —”

That night,” Gaara began. “I’m glad you came to me. That … you haven’t come to fear me. I’m sure you must’ve been afraid — in general, if not … of me.”

“Of course,” You said. You had done a lot of thinking about that. Gaara had been driven to rage to save you. It had been horrible, but it was because the rogue ninja had tried to hurt you. And worse; he had been intending to hold you hostage, to drive your father to action. A tradeoff. And the gods only know what he had planned on doing with you in the space between the beginning of your capture and its end. “You did come to save me — twice, actually. From drowning and from him.”

“I wouldn’t have let either happen.”

You nodded, held his gaze. The comment, though obvious, still sent a warm sense of protection through you. One you had never felt at home. If the rogue had succeeded, would your father have spent a dime to ensure your return? Would you have been worth it? Would it have been out of love or to save himself the embarrassment? You didn’t know. You didn’t know.

Another pause. Gaara broke eye contact first, lowering his gaze to his hand on the railing.

“I’ve been a coward,” Gaara said. “I’ve been … putting off telling you the truth about some things. Allow me an opportunity to share my history with you.”

You blinked before acquiescing with a nod, shifty-eyed though you were.

“Okay,” You said. “But don’t call yourself that; you’re not a coward in the slightest.”

If anything, I’m the coward.

“Reserve your judgment; you may feel differently once I’ve told you everything.”

The sunset colors complimented Gaara so well as he eyed the horizon, seemingly lost in the past.

“Before my birth, the Sand suffered from cuts to our budget from the Wind Daimyo,” Gaara began. “That put the village at a vast disadvantage. The Fourth Kazekage — my father — felt it best to create an ultimate weapon that could heighten the village’s reputation and render us formidable to our rivals. He decided that one of his children would come to house a demon and become that ultimate weapon.”

You froze. A demon. In the sky bound journey to the beach, hand on your hip, Gaara had called it a spirit. Gaara turned to you, appraised your reaction to such a word. Years of practice aided in keeping your expression neutral, and he went on:

“Neither Temari or Kankuro could coexist with this demon, so my father decided I would be the weapon he so desired. By the time I was born, it was already done. It cost me my mother.” Gaara paused. “I was sheltered, like you. My father taught me shinobi arts privately, and I was cared for by my uncle, my mother’s brother, Yashamaru.”

You recognized the name in the madness of the story you were sure was only just beginning.

“The villagers feared me because of what I was, but I kept trying to reach out … I couldn’t understand why I hurt people when I didn’t want to, why I couldn’t be normal.”

You swallowed. A normal girl.

“My father decided that this sentimentality was an impediment to my development as his tool, and so instructed my uncle to kill me —“

“What?” You placed a hand over your heart.

Gaara’s lips quirked in an almost-smile, as though your horror was flattering in some way. “My uncle told me my mother had never loved me, and neither had he, before killing himself … I came to believe my life was the only one that mattered — that the sand that rose to protect me at all costs did so without fail. I believed my reason for existing was to kill others and preserve only myself.”

A self-sharpening tool.

“It was deceit,” Gaara said, facing you now. “My father only wanted me to believe all of this so I could be a proper tool for him. He had tried many times to kill me, but eventually stopped when he realized I could be of use once I had my powers under control. He sent me on missions to terrorize his enemies, and surely I killed many of the ninja from your village as well.”

Your village. Hideo. And yet you could not shave off the sympathy you had for Gaara.

“This is all so morbid,” You said. “How could a father be so cruel …”

And yet here you were, your father’s tool, sent to commit atrocities and seed divisions between your two villages. What if the idea had come to your father’s head and not Rasa’s? It scared you, how easily you could have been used in the exact same fashion. How you already were. Of all the things to have in common with Gaara, it had to be this.

“He wished to protect his village at all costs,” Gaara said hastily. “I understand his choice, though it has caused me great pain.”

You stared in disbelief. How? How could he forgive the Fourth for being so depraved? But you remained silent, sensing Gaara was not done.

“I went on killing, caring for no one but myself,” Gaara said. “My siblings were terrified of me. They hated me. Baki, too. The Sand plotted to attack the Leaf, as you know. We succeeded, partially, but then …”

“But then you met Naruto Uzumaki,” You finished for him. The pieces were beginning to click together.

“Yes,” Gaara said. “He was strong because he had those he loved. I didn’t understand it. I couldn’t understand it. Not at first. But he didn’t come to hate me. He saved me from the emptiness. I had someone who understood me … He changed me.” The dying light was gentle on him as he continued. “I returned to the village, determined to win them over, and show everyone I was sincere in my efforts to live differently and protect them. I discovered my father’s ploys: I really was loved by my mother and Yashamaru, and it only encouraged me to continue on.”

Gaara went on sharing more with you, and when you asked for clarifications, he gave them to you. It was all so much — for you were not a shinobi, but even if you were, it would still be much to swallow — but you tried to remain as silent as you could so as not to interrupt his story.

“I will never truly make up for the mistakes of my past,” Gaara said sorrowfully. “Those like Joseki have made that clear. But I can do what I can to improve.”

Your father hadn’t shared any of this with you. Gaara had been a child. But, you supposed, none of this would have mattered to Father. Your eyes fell over him, admiration flooding you. How could one person be so strong? What an anticlimactic, nihilistic end your mission would have been for Gaara. All that work to change, to do better, all to be murdered in his bed by some harlot …

You resumed your finger-drumming. Gaara raised his head expectantly.

“I am sure this is much to take in,” Gaara said, the edges of his voice tinged with nerves, though he tried to hide it. “But … it was wrong of me to not tell you the moment you arrived in my village. I am sorry.”

“No.” Your eyes stung as you shook your head. “It’s — It’s okay.”

Gaara nodded curtly. He averted his eyes.

“I understand,” You blurted out.

His head shot up. “You do?”

“As much as I can,” You said. “I don’t hold this — any of this — against you, Gaara.” You came forward, felt him flinch as you caressed his cheek. “If men were half as forgiving, half as strong as you, the world would be a better place.”

He held the hand holding him. “Thank you, (Y/n),” Gaara said with all the softness of a feather.

This is it. You swallowed. Tell him now. Your lips parted to speak but not words were forthcoming. Do it! Your vision blurred; warm tears ran tracks down your face. You cried for him — and for yourself. For all you were too weak to say.

If only I could be as strong as you, Gaara …

“No.” Gaara gently thumbed your tears away. “Please, don’t …”

You sniffled, hanging your head low. “M’sorry …”

“I didn’t tell you all of this to upset you.” Gaara inched closer. “Let me be the one to cheer you up after all that. There’s something in the greenhouse I’d like to show you.”

“O — Okay.” You tried a smile. “Anything you say.”

Gaara headed toward the door leading away from the roof. And, besotted, you followed him.

It seemed a simple cactus to you, though Gaara insisted it was different.

“Kankuro gave it to me a day or so after the party,” he explained. “He meant for me to take it with us on our beach trip, but I’m sorry to say I forgot it along the way.”

You evaluated the little desert plant. It was cute. Its rounded leaves raised in a patty-cake like fashion, squat and tiny in its cinnamon-colored pot.

“Probably because I couldn’t understand why it was needed in the first place.” Gaara tilted his head as he inspected the plant further. “I’ve never read about it.”

“It’s not as nice as the one I got you,” You joked, poking the cactus’s leaf, aware of your present-cactus sitting beside on Gaara’s table.

You moved aside when Gaara the botanist came to touch its fat petals. “Kankuro said to drink the water inside.”

Gaara took a small knife from his table and cut into one of the leaves with precision. He took the two little glasses on the table and allowed the water within to leak into them before handing you one.

“Are … Are you sure this is safe?” You asked.

“Kankuro gave it to me.” Gaara picked up the note beside the cactus as you sniffed your glass. “He gave me a note with it that said ‘have fun!’ I don’t know why he wrote that, but I figured this would help lighten the mood and cheer you up after everything I revealed to you.”

“That’s nice.” You glanced at the note before sipping from your glass. You doubled, taken aback by the bittersweet taste. Tart. Like lemon juice. “Wo —Wow.”

Gaara sipped after you. “I see …”

Another sip. You giggled. Relief spread through your veins as the melodrama of the day … fell away … like vapor … for some reason.

Gaara sipped again. “Hm.” His cheeks pinkened.

“I think we should” — You stumbled, placed a hand on the table — “sit down …”

Gaara took your advice. The two of you settled on the floor of one of the greenhouse aisles, admiring the succulents hidden away behind glass displays. Gaara’s gourd sat abandoned by the wall.

Another sip. You giggled some more, hugging yourself. Gaara’s face grew pinker with every sip.

“You’re much prettier than the girls in the Icha Icha novels,” he said.

You cackled and the sound was ugly, witchy almost, in your throat, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “Ohh, I love those books.”

“They’re very strange.” Gaara tilted his head as though to reconsider. “But very well-written.”

“You only say they’re strange because you don’t understand them.” You nudged Gaara.

“I suppose you’re right about that …” Gaara’s arm brushed yours as he swayed beside you. “Sometimes, one chapter comes back to me in particular. The one where the woman catches her husband with the vacuum cleaner?”

You guffawed. “Oh, that chapter was bitchin’.”

“Yes …” Gaara was blinking a lot. “That’s the word.”

“You’ll come to understand when you have more experience.” You shot your arm in the air. “Time for another lesson —!” You caught yourself about to fall. “Whoa … Hehe!”

Gaara helped to steady you with a ginger touch to your shoulder. “Be careful …”

You faced him, your head lolling against the back drawers. He was so beautiful. A desert hottie. Ha, hot. You pounced on him, fastening a leg over his own to straddle him. Gaara held your hips as you slithered hands under his collar.

“You have nice skin for someone who lives in the desert,” You said.

“Likewise,” he quipped.

You pecked Gaara on the nose before brushing it with your own with a purr.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I want to help you understand the books better,” You sat on him properly, “and why the characters do what they do.”

Gaara held you tight to him. A blink and he was on top of you.

“You’re strong!” You kneaded the muscles of his arms underneath his sleeves.

Gaara bent down to plant a kiss to your neck — before giving you several.

“Mmm …” You turned your head to allow him access to more skin. “Gaara …”

“One of the men in the books does this to the woman before kissing her some more,” Gaara said. “I understand this.”

Your fingers threaded in his hair, keeping him close. “You do?” You murmured.

“Yes,” Gaara whispered. “And when I imagine you in her place, I understand it even more …”

You ran your tongue over the shell of Gaara’s ear as he kissed the junction of your neck and jaw. He shivered under your hands. “You think I’m as pretty as her?”

“Prettier.” He nibbled into the dip at your jaw’s end. “Much prettier.”

Gaara’s lips trailed up your jaw until he kissed your mouth, pulling back only to run his tongue over your lips.

“He did that to her, too.”

You pulled Gaara’s face forward, your lips crashing to his. Your arms wrapped around his neck, hands buried in his hair as he reciprocated. You nipped and flicked your tongue against his lower lip, yearning your message to be understood. Success; Gaara opened his mouth and your tongues met, running over one another. Gaara’s hands pawed at your breasts; your nipples came to life under his kneading.

“This isn’t — ah — the first time we’ve done this,” You murmured. “Not to me. I’ve had dreams …”

“I’m flattered.” Gaara’s low baritone rumbled on your lips.

“Mmm.” You arched your back as Gaara pinched your nipples. “Aha!”

He bucked into you and you felt the unmistakable stab of his erection. He returned to your neck to bite and lick there.

“We need to be nude, so we can do everything the characters do in the books,” Gaara said, voice husky. “Like — mm — the scene where the man puts his penis in the woman’s mouth …”

You sighed as Gaara tugged on your earlobe. “Okay …” Gaara’s cock in your mouth. Mmmm … Wouldn’t be the first time you’d imagined it …

“Show me,” he ordered.

You rolled him over and heard the fallaway sound of a pot crashing onto the floor, but paid no mind to it as you lifted your shirt and the fishnet with it from your body and tossed both.

“Absolutely, I will.” You guided Gaara’s hands to your bra cups, sighed as he kneaded the soft flesh. “I’d do anything for you, Gaara …”

You were so preoccupied with the buttons of his trench coat you did not hear the door open.

“Gaara?!”

“Lady (Y/n)?!”

You raised your head toward the entrance. Temari and Baki stood in the threshold, mouths agape and blue-faced.

“Hi, guys!” You waved to them.

“You know,” the nurse began, “for someone who doesn’t like to drink, Lord Kazekage sure is under the influence a lot …”

Kankuro looked over his shoulder, murder in his eyes. “’Fuck you say about my brother?”

The nurses jumped.

“Nothing, nothing! My — My — My apologies, Lord Kankuro …!” He said.

They scurried away to continue caring for Gaara and you. The two of you were laid on separate beds, stars in your eyes and surely hallucinating, if the nonsense the two of you spouting was anything to go by.

“Let me get this straight.” Temari pinched the space between her eyebrows. “You gave our brother a psychoactive cactus and planned on getting him high during our beach trip?”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Kankuro cried. “I totally forgot about it and — and we got back and there was all the paperwork that needed to be done —”

“Why is Kankuro’s skin purple?” You asked dreamily, head lolling from side to side. You pointed at him. “That’s way too much makeup, sir!”

Baki sighed against the wall as a wreath of stars spun around your head. Chuuyou stared at you with news eyes — Kankuro doubted your guardian had ever seen you like this — and seemingly at a loss for what to do.

Baki hadn’t said a word since he helped Temari carry the two of you to the infirmary. He asked one of the nurses, “Are they going to be all right?”

“Certainly, Lord Baki,” a nurse said. “They will be fine.”

“(Y/n),” Gaara said. “Shukaku is speaking to me … He’s telling me about a great skin regimen!”

“The sand demon?” You gasped. “Tell me!”

Baki blinked at the nurse.

“Uh, the psychoactive elements of the purple pandemonium cactus will run their course,” he said, “then, they will be fine.”

“Purpl —? This is such a mess.” Temari facepalmed. “I should be kicking your ass, Kankuro —“

“Don’t,” Gaara urged dreamily. “Peace must prevail …”

“I can’t believe you thought this” — Temari gestured to the two of them — “would be funny.”

“At least they didn’t …” Baki stalled, blanching, “ … go too far.”

The three of them stood in an awkward pause. Apparently, you had been found shirtless while riding his poor brother like a pony. Kankuro, already considering you more of a sister than anything, cringed at the mental image. You were so dignified, all without being the snob he had anticipated when he first met you. You would be horrified once the cactus water wore off and you returned to your senses. He sighed; even when he tried to fix his problems, he caused more of them.

“I’m sorry,” Kankuro pressed. “This is all my fault. I’m not denying it. But we’ve got bigger problems now; neither of them can be seen like this — and what if they were seen? It’s not like those greenhouse windows are tinted.”

“One problem at a time, Kankuro,” Baki insisted, exasperated.

“For the time being, at least they’re all right,” Temari said. She turned to Kankuro and sighed. “I’m … starting to think maybe you’re right.”

Kankuro raised his brows in surprise. “Do my ears deceive me?”

Temari looked back to Gaara, limp on the bed as nurses minded his vitals. “I think I do have a mommy problem. I saw them in the greenhouse getting all … Y’know, and I was horrified — but not for the right reasons. I was thinking about Gaara’s … innocence. Not his political career. And then I wondered: why? Gaara’s a grown man. He can make his own decisions.”

“Lord Kazekage!” one of the nurses tried to hold Gaara down. “You must stay put —!”

“But the sun looks like Naruto Uzumaki!” Gaara insisted. “We have to go outside; he wants to tell us how to make ramen to honor the gods!”

“Maybe he shouldn’t be making his own decisions right now,” Kankuro quipped.

Temari managed a weak laugh as the nurses relaxed her brother. “I shouldn’t have an opinion on his sex life. I’m just so used to protecting the two of you. I’ve done it all my life. But, I need to let go …” She looked up at Kankuro. “Do you think he told her?”

“Uh.” Kankuro scratched his head. “She knows who Shukaku is? So, uh-huh. I’m guessing it went well.”

“Too well.” Temari blinked. “All joking aside, you’re right; this can’t get out. It would cause a scandal and put Gaara at a disadvantage. His role as Kazekage would be in question.”

“We’ll do some reconnaissance,” Baki said. You started singing to yourself, waving your arms in the air, attending some invisible concert, and he sighed. “Do you know how long the effects last, Kankuro?”

“Erm,” Kankuro said. “Let’s just say they’ve got a long night ahead of them.”

You cracked eyes open — only to be met with the headache to end all headaches.

You moaned, shifted to your side. Your vision was blurry as you pressed one side of your face into the pillow, the other eye focused enough to see Baki in a chair beside you.

“What happened?” You croaked at him.

“It’s all right.” The creak of a chair, a hand caressing your back that must have been Baki’s. “There was an … incident.”

“Oh, good, she’s awake!” a feminine voice said, definitely Temari’s.

“My head …” You lay on your back, frowning at the throb in your head. Baki placed a hand on your forehead.

“The headache must come from being dehydrated,” he said. “Temari, get the nurses.”

“What?” You groaned as Temari left to obey Baki. “What are you talking about? What incident —?”

You froze. Your eyes grew wide. Reality nudged — then crashed and burned beside you.

Each new memory unlocked compounded your horror. The cactus, the sluttiness — oh, not to mention the night before where you and Gaara bumbled all night long, reduced to toddlers the nurses had to work overtime to care for.

“Oh gods.” You curled into a ball, burning with shame. Gaara! You propped up, turned to see Gaara on the bed beside you, quiet but awake and averting your eyes. You laid flat on your back, the ceiling light blinking at you. Baki moved to turn it off so as to not aggravate your headache, your only light now filtering in through the window. “Baki, I’m a disgrace.”

“No, you’re not,” Baki assured you.

How can he say that? If father hears about this, he’ll murder me. That was the best case scenario. You rubbed your sore throat. What if someone learned of the poison in your necklace …

The necklace. You caressed your bare neck. The necklace that was gone.

It was gone .

You shot up, headache be damned. Temari had returned with nurses, a hand maneuvering the necklace to place a glass of water closer to you.

“Give that back!” You cried. “Right now!”

Heads turned to you. Temari froze.

You caught yourself. “Sorry, I … I’m sorry. Thank you,” You added as a nurse carried a food tray to you. “It’s just — that’s precious to me, and —”

“It’s all right.” Temari chuckled as she offered you the necklace. “I know you have questions and it’s a long story, but basically it’s all Kankuro’s fault. So, don’t worry.”

You nodded, head thumping; your previous outburst had done nothing to assuage it.

“Drink the water first,” Baki instructed.

You did as he asked, sipping the glass of water. You fastened your necklace around your neck miserably before addressing the tray of food. You didn’t want to look at food, but —

“(Y/n) …”

Gaara had abandoned his bed and came to yours. He stood before you. You blinked as he bowed.

“I’m sorry for all of this,” he said. “Truly. I should have been more careful.”

“Oh, Gaara,” You cooed. “No …”

“I haven’t been a good host. My behavior in the greenhouse was … perverted.”

“We weren’t in control of our actions,” You pressed. I can’t say I regret it entirely, either …

Gaara looked away. “I know women like to wait until they’re married for … that sort of thing.”

“It couldn’t be helped, I think,” You assured him with a nervous laugh.

“Both of you should eat,” a nurse said gently as a second dropped another tray off at the foot of Gaara’s bed. “The psychoactive properties of the cactus have clearly worn off quite a bit, but we shouldn’t get too cocky. Light meals will help.”

Gaara nodded to the nurse.

“So, (Y/n),” Temari said. “Is my brother a good kisser or what?”

You spluttered. Baki nearly dropped the tray he was adjusting for you.

“Te — Temari!” You couldn’t breathe.

Temari snickered. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

It was another day and countless glasses of water later before your symptoms eroded completely. You were sure your vision would forever be tinted purple before that, too, cleared up. The nurses cleared you from the infirmary and you thanked them a thousand times over for their help, and apologized they had to work so hard.

But you were pleased. You were free and you could eat solids again! You were nearly at the end of your second week in Sunagakure, and it had felt like an eternity.

Gaara was avoiding you; he had been allowed to leave the infirmary before you and had not returned to visit you. You couldn’t find him anywhere. Maybe it was for the best, you thought, strolling around the sand palace. Memories of the greenhouse blared more vivid than ever. The kisses, Gaara’s hands on your skin, what you had said to each other. Your face grew hot to recall it. Would you ever be able to face him again?

You groaned as you turned a corner. And just when we had made so much progress. Gaara had opened up to you and, though you hadn’t afforded him the same courtesy out of fear, you had been overjoyed to earn his vulnerability. Your shoulders dipped in disappointment when you came across a door you hadn’t seen before. It was arched with a golden knob. Movement from within. You did the polite thing and knocked.

“Come in.” It was Kankuro’s voice.

With that, you pushed the door open and looked around — it was a museum of puppets. Some sitting on the floor while others hung from the ceiling. It all would’ve been rather creepy, if not for Kankuro in the center, Crow in his lap like a baby while his father polished his arm.

“Oh,” Kankuro’s voice depressed. “Hey. How are you feeling?”

“Better than ever. I haven’t seen you in days.” You closed the door. “What’ve you been up to?”

“Oh …” Kankuro smiled faintly. “Yeah, sorry about that … I finished up paperwork early today, so decided to get back to my old hobby.” He lifted Crow’s arm to indicate his old hobby. “I’m sorry about the whole cactus thing. I haven’t been able to formally apologize; no time …”

“It’s okay, really!” You said.

“It’s really not,” Kankuro said. “What if we had needed Gaara to be, y’know, lucid?”

“We didn’t need to dive right into it the way we did. We could’ve inspected it some more.”

“You weren’t as cautious because you trusted me,” Kankuro said. He sighed. “Don’t try to make me feel better. I deserve to feel like shit.”

You leaned against his table. “Where did you even get it? Where’d you hear about it?”

“Read about it,” Kankuro said. “It was in one of the books I had sent to the office while I was doing research on …” He paused. “Other stuff … I thought it’d be funny.”

A beat. “It was kind of funny,” You said.

“Maybe.” Kankuro lowered Crow’s arm to face you. “But, it was irresponsible, really, with everything going on.”

You couldn’t refute that, but you didn’t want Kankuro feeling bad, either. You liked him happy.

You tried to throw Kankuro a bone. “It could’ve been worse.”

“What if you and Gaara had gotten like that when that rogue had attacked you? What if it had a violent effect on Gaara and he hurt you or went on a rampage? What if it had killed you both?”

All horrific scenarios. All totally possible. The bone plunged into the abyss. “Huh … May — Maybe don’t think about those things?”

“The truth is …” Kankuro began. “It was fun to be able to relate to Gaara as a brother first and the Kazekage second, like old times. I was thrilled about having a new edition to our family. Nervous at first, obviously, but then I met you, and you were so …” Kankuro motioned toward you. “You. The last few years have been so bloody. The Fourth Ninja War and everything. Madara — you don’t need to know who that is, honestly, count yourself lucky. It was nice to have things be so lighthearted … But, I got carried away. I truly am sorry.”

You said nothing, soaking in the indirect flattery. You watched as Kankuro cradled Crow in his lap. “You really love Gaara, don’t you?”

Kankuro, satisfied with his job, set Crow aside. “I do. After everything he’s been through — after everything Rasa put him through … He’s really come far. Far beyond what anyone would have expected of him. He’s gained the respect of our whole village. I hate that I might’ve jeopardized that.”

“He told me,” You said. “About his past.”

Kankuro waited expectantly. “And …?”

“It changes nothing about the way I’ve come to feel about him,” You said. “Besides deepening my respect. I wish there was some way I could excise the pain he’s suffered from all he’s come to learn from it.”

Kankuro appeared stunned. “That’s … I feel the exact same way.”

He’s so much like Hideo. You tilted your head, and it was like seeing a reflection in water. You found your brother’s face in Kankuro’s.

“Don’t worry about anything.” Hideo’s smile replaced the sun. “No matter what, I’ll always be there for you.”

Kankuro stared. “Hey. (Y/n)?”

“… Yes?”

He stared. “Promise me, no matter what, you’ll take care of Gaara. Be a good wife to him? He deserves that.”

Your heart lurched, but you remained still.

“I will,” You whispered. “I promise.”

You couldn’t bear Kankuro’s presence anymore and so promised to see him at dinner. You stalked the halls like a ghost before venturing toward the hall leading to your room.

You retired to your room, tired from nothing.

A hawk waited for you.

Panic seized your heart and wet your palms. The hawk flapped its wing in hello as your stomach spun and spun and spun.

Oh, gods. You could see your father’s wrath seeping from the letter. You wanted to hole up in the corner and die, but your hands worked to undo the letter from the hawk’s latch.

You waited a beat or two before unfurling it. The hawk abandoned your window, leaving you alone with your father’s words. You exhaled through chattering teeth and braced the moment you saw the black ink.

Dearest (Y/n), Forgive me.

“What?” You gawked, sinking to the foot of your bed.

My sweet girl, my precious star come from heaven to grace my earth, will you forgive an old man of his foibles? I have spent these last few days deep in thought. I have been horrible to you. My only daughter. It is only natural you come to despise me. How Hideo would despise me as well, if he knew. However, only the gods could comprehend how much I’ve missed you. By the time you receive this letter, I will be on my way to Sunagakure —

“What?!” You slipped to the floor.

— to help with the wedding preparations. I long to meet my future son-in-law. Please let everyone know I mean to arrive in a matter of days. Yours truly, Father.

You set the letter aside.

Your father was coming here.

And no word about the mission you had been sent on. He only desired to meet Gaara. Hope brightened inside of you. Maybe he meant it …? Hell, after the weeks you’d had, you were ready to believe anything. Only one clue suggested Father’s change of heart might be real:

He never left the Oasis village. In all your life, he had been too paranoid to step one foot away from his home. And why, if you were already here? If he was sincere …

If he was sincere … You were free.

You would never have to reveal your mission — or even better, maybe your father would reveal it all and ask for forgiveness? The future — always so bleak — vivified, star-bright inside you. The dream became more of a reality to you. You could marry Gaara and put this all behind you …

Or it was all a trick, and the old man plotted to strangle you in your sleep. That was possible, too.

You had only one option: wait until you could speak to your father in person. If you tried to go forth with his wishes or expose the plan, what if you ruined everything forever? If he was coming, a confrontation with him would either confirm or deny your wishes.

You wouldn’t get in your own way. You would wait for him to come and reveal his true colors.

You went to bed with a letter you left intact.

You twirled your fork at the breakfast table, eyes on the door. Everyone else was present — Kankuro, Temari, even Baki, who joined for breakfast occasionally. Gaara was the missing link. Apparently, he had resumed his place in the office for the morning. But the truth was glaring: Gaara was still avoiding you.

You slammed your fork down after a ten minute grace period. “This is just silly! He can’t still be thinking about the greenhouse!”

“He can,” Baki said, arms crossed. “Speaking of, from what we gathered, neither of you were seen. And there’s been no gossip our shinobi have picked up on the streets —”

“That’s all important, but that’s not what I meant,” You dismissed with a sigh. “He’s still ashamed personally. I don’t see why, though; I took it as a compliment.”

Baki cleared his throat as Temari and Kankuro snickered, the former rotating her plate for no reason at all.

“I’ve already forgiven him and it wasn’t his fault! He’s a man,” You continued to rant. For once, you could enjoy his company without the mission hanging over your head, and today he chose to be absent? “He has urges, and so what? So do I —“

“Perhaps something came up.” Baki hastened to change the subject. “Gaara’s not known to be late.”

“He’s been avoiding me for days,” You pressed. With a pout, you added, “I was hoping we could discuss something …”

You hadn’t dropped the news of your father’s coming yet.

Kankuro shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t know how to speak to you after all that.”

“You stay out of this,” Temari teased.

“Speaking of matters to discuss,” Baki said. “I choose to join you all today because many shinobi from Oasis and Suna will be at this wedding,” Baki turned to you. “We’ll, of course, need to combine the traditions of both villages so as not to aggravate either. I wanted to know if there were any specific traditions we need to keep in mind.”

“Well, actually,” You began. “I think we should wait a little longer to talk about this. My f —“

A ninja poofed into the dining room, crouched in a bow.

“What’s happening?” Temari set her food aside, alert.

“Lord Kazekage has requested an audience with you all,” the ninja said. “It is of the utmost importance.”

The four of you piled into the Kazekage’s office and were greeted with the sounds of crying. Gaara’s back was turned to you all as he looked out the window. A girl was kneeling on the floor, sobbing.

“What’s going on here?” Baki shut the door. “What’s the meaning of this?”

Temari appraised the girl — she gawked. “Matsuri?”

Matsuri’s sob wracked her body.

“Why is she crying?” Kankuro asked. “Gaara?”

Gaara turned to face the group, looking crestfallen. He raised his hand and a letter appeared.

The ninja who had brought you all stepped forward. “Matsuri was caught conversing with some gossip columnist about what she saw in the greenhouse a few days ago.”

The room erupted in cries of confusion.

“What?” Kankuro said.

“You can’t be serious!” Temari cried out.

Your gaze remained on Gaara, but he wouldn’t look at you.

“It wasn’t me!” Matsuri was hysterical, waving her hand out. “It wasn’t! It was forged!”

“She was seen by some personnel. She was leaving the ‘office,’” the ninja was heavy on air quotes, “of the columnist only a few hours ago.”

“No!” Matsuri howled. “I’d never do that!”

“You might, if you thought it would send (Y/n) home.” You could hear the sharp disappointment in Temari’s voice as she approached Matsuri. “Remember how sad you were at the party? You even asked me if Gaara had to marry, if there was some way he could reconsider.”

Matsuri stammered as heads turned to her.

“I even had to step away to console you,” Temari added. She sighed, and with a voice fit for scolding a child: “Do you have … any idea what this could do to Gaara’s reputation?”

You backed away until you hit a wall, anxiety squeezing breath out of your lungs and refusing to let new oxygen in.

“Please, I didn’t do it!” Matsuri cried. “Please, please —”

“This is bad,” Baki hissed. “What if the council learns of this?”

“They may already know if she’s” — Kankuro shot a finger in Matsuri’s direction — “been unloading our dirty laundry everywhere. You know how quickly rumors spread— and the old geezers like to pretend they’re above it all. They’ll be the first to get the scope.”

Oh gods. Not this. Not now. Having this all happen privately was one thing, but now the village could know?

And your father, who was coming to the village? Father would know.

No. No. If he had new plans, would this ruin those, too? You couldn’t breathe; there would be no surviving his rage. Slut, whore, harlot. He would disown you.

No, keep it down. You can’t panic now. No. No.

“It wasn’t me …” Matsuri sobbed miserably. “Please …”

“Matsuri,” Gaara said, the first word he had spoken since you had all arrived. “Stand up. Please.”

Matsuri obeyed, standing slowly to meet her maker. She wrung hands in her tear-stained shirt.

“We all believe in second chances here,” Gaara said.

“Not all of us,” Kankuro hissed.

“And the truth has yet to be revealed to its full capacity.” Gaara ignored his brother. “They’ll be a hearing for you. Understand?”

Matsuri sniffed, knowing better than to argue with her Kazekage, and nodded. Gaara gestured something you did not understand and more ninja appeared, kneeling before him.

“Send her away,” Gaara told them. “Keep eyes on her, but do not harm her.”

They did so, dragging Matsuri out the door, one of her arms in one of theirs.

“What an idiot!” Kankuro slammed a hand against the desk. “Just when we thought she finally got over her little crush on you — but no, she just had to double down!” He threw his hands up. “This is ridiculous! How can she say she loves you and then go and —”

“This is all your fault!” Temari rounded on him. “You and your fucking purple pandemonium —“

“We have to think of the future now,” Baki said. “We must work to mitigate the damage Matsuri might have caused.”

“I knew this was going to come to bite us in the ass somehow.” Temari moaned into her hand. “It can’t get any worse …”

“It can.” You were about to shatter to pieces. You stood outside of yourself, seeing words leave your mouth. “I received a letter from my father last night. He’s on his way.”

…

The room erupted.

“Thanks for jinxing it, Temari!” Kankuro shouted.

“What?” Temari cried. “He’s coming here? He can’t!”

“He can,” Gaara said calmly. “That’s good news, isn’t it? I finally get to meet my future father-in-law.”

“Lord Kazekage,” Baki said. “Read the room.”

“He can’t come now!” Temari picked at her ponytails. “We have nothing prepared for him! We haven’t even started preparing for the wedding yet!”

“He’d like to help with preparations, actually,” You said, desperate to cling to something to keep yourself grounded. “H — How, I have no idea —”

“He cannot learn of this, most of all,” Baki said.

Finally, Gaara’s eyes found you. He studied you as the others argued. He stepped away from his desk and came to you.

“Who wants to bet with our luck he already knows,” Kankuro threw up his hands.

“We can’t think the worst,” Baki said.

“All because of a stupid plant!” Temari cried.

“Everyone calm down,” Gaara said above the chaos.

Heads turned to him. His attention was on you, however; he took your hand in his. His calm pulse, thrumming through his palm, soothed your own.

“The villagers are not nearly as fickle as all that,” he muttered. “They will understand (Y/n) and I are young and soon to be married.”

It was a few seconds before Kankuro shrugged. “You know, he’s got a point.”

“That may be true, Lord Kazekage,” Baki began. “But you will have detractors who will take this misstep to create division.”

“Certainly,” Gaara said without a beat passed. “The next few days will be essential. Without a doubt, the council will want a word with me. We will handle that as a team. We can also address Matsuri,” Gaara paused; the hurt darkened his face. “and prepare for Lord Boutoku’s arrival.

No one spoke, but you could feel the spirits in the room lifting.

Gaara smiled faintly. “Even if we must spend all day working out these issues, it will get done.”

“All right, Gaara. You win.” Kankuro sighed and turned to Baki. “Mind splitting that migraine medication with me?”

“I second that,” Temari said.

By the time preparations were ironed out, it was sundown.

“Sheesh,” Kankuro said. “I’ve never wanted to rest so bad.” He held the door open for all of you. “You coming?”

“I’ll be a moment,” Gaara said. “I would like to speak to (Y/n) for a while.”

With no objections, Kankuro, Temari, and Baki exited, leaving you alone with your fiancé.

The moment they were gone, you collapsed into a chair. Despite your fatigue, though, you were blown away by Gaara’s strength. Nothing threw him off. And despite your spiraling — and the spiraling of everyone else — he had simply taken control. You could see why he was the Kazekage.

It was so attractive.

“(Y/n),” Gaara said, coming to the front of the desk with arms crossed. “I noticed you earlier. Your breathing was rapid, and you looked ill. Are you all right?”

The panic inside of you then was the panic inside of you now. You had only numbed it with Gaara’s help, but it had manifested in other ways, like the exhaustion gnawing at your bones now.

“… No,” You said.

Gaara knelt. “It’s all right not to be.”

His words uncorked something in you. Pain stabbed your throat, and the heat under your skin disturbed you. “I’m so afraid …”

Gaara came forward and enveloped you in a hug. Once you recovered from the surprise, you hid in the crook of his shoulder. He was steady, an anchor for you to cling to. You hugged him harder.

“I won’t allow for this arrangement to fail,” he said. “I will prove myself worthy of you.”

You laughed in disbelief. “Like you haven’t already?” You leaned back to meet his eye. “You were so strong and composed. I know how much Matsuri means to you, and I’m sorry. Thank you. I … I don’t think I could do any of this without you. I’m so tired.”

Humility hung Gaara’s head. “I am happy to have impressed you. I feel fatigued, as well. And …” He blushed. “If circumstances were different, I would prefer for you to share my bed like before. When we were in my tent …”

Ah, yes. Sleeping … Sleeping with Gaara. Weren’t there other ways to deal with stress?

You withdrew your hands. You did not want to think about sleeping with Gaara. Not now.

Gaara moved away as well. Neither of you spoke in the elastic stretch of time. Your eyes flickered to his lips … You thought of how he had kissed you, licked you in the greenhouse. How ready he was to devour you. Show me. You shivered. What you wouldn’t give for him to top you now, your legs wrapped around him as he laid you onto his desk …

You cleared your throat as you left your chair. You looked away from Gaara’s face before he could notice the hungry expression lingering on yours.

“I know you’re not feeling your best,” Gaara said. “But is there anything I can do to help?”

Please don’t ask me that. There’s so much you could do — do to me.

“No,” You said. “I’m better now, Gaara. Really!”

Gaara was not convinced. “I don’t like it when you lie about your feelings.”

His bluntness surprised you.

I lie to you all the time, you just don’t know.

He stepped toward you. He was only a few inches taller than you, but with such a commanding presence, he loomed. “I hope you don’t think I’ve been avoiding you.”

You raised your head, desperately trying to hold your own. “Oh no?”

“It’s the truth.” Gaara’s fingers grazed your own. “Despite leaving the infirmary before you, it took me some time to recover from … all we did.”

You swallowed. Were you supposed to take that as an insult or a compliment?

“I’m not usually touched,” Gaara said. “Nor do I touch others … But sometimes, I still feel you on my skin.” He wrapped fingers around yours. “Please, let me be the one to bring you peace. If you need me to …”

You blushed. What was he saying? You couldn’t talk about this! Not now! And … You couldn’t use him to make yourself feel better.

“Gaara …” You backed away, your fingers falling from his grasp in the process. “I’m so tired. If I seem off, it’s because I need to sleep. Thank you for everything. I mean it. But I really am fine.” You bowed to show your respect for his compassion. “Goodnight.”

Gaara let the moment fall. He studied you still as you inched toward the door, but did nothing to stop you.

“Goodnight,” he muttered to you as you hurried out the door.

You returned to your room hot for an entirely different reason. You changed into a nightgown before slipping into bed, but the idea of sleep was risible as your skin tortured you with phantom memories of Gaara’s lips at your neck, hands at your breasts, erection pressing into your inner thigh …

What would he have done had the two of you gone uninterrupted? He was clearly inexperienced, but his passion could make up for that …Definitely. You squeezed your legs. You would show him what to do and then, just like before, his fervor would lead the way …

You throbbed.

You couldn’t sleep like this.

You shivered at the memory of Gaara’s baritone in your ear, hot breath on your skin …

“Gaara …” You breathed into your pillow as your hand snaked past the hem of your nightgown. Your fingertips grazed the fat of your clothed vulva. You gasped; the sharp pleasure sent you squeezing your thighs together. You fidgeted to allow your hand more access, tapped your clit gently.

Gaara’s weight came over you. His tongue ran across yours, a moan low in his throat as you unclasped the buttons of his trench coat —

“Mm …” You slipped your hand past the elastic of your panties. Your folds, already moist, wet your fingers as you found a rhythm.

“(Y/n) …” Gaara’s erection kneaded into your thigh, poking as his lips sucked against the tender spots of your neck. His hands shadowed your bare breasts as he bucked into you —

“Don’t stop!” You clung to him as he fucked you, his cock stuffing you. “Just like that, come on, oh, gods —“

You flicked and worked your clit, quickening your pace as you replayed the mental image of engulfing Gaara’s cock, your fingers now his in your reimagining. You rolled on your back and spread your legs for easier access to your clit, your breath tapering into soft pants.

“Come, (Y/n),” Gaara ordered — in that tone, with that voice. “Come for me, come …!”

“Gaara!” Your head fell into the pillow, your fingers frantically circling your clit as your walls clenched around nothing. You held Gaara in your mind as stars exploded behind your eyelids. You settled your back, pained from arching, into the mattress. You rolled your fingers now from pure habit as you rode out your climax.

You pulled your fingers away from your slick folds, overrun with arousal. You should get up, clean yourself, but the exhaustion seduced your eyes to flutter closed, and sleep took you instead.

Members of the Suna council filtered into the room — and froze when they spotted the four of you already seated.

You corrected your posture, forced a poker face you had come to master. Today, you discarded the casual wear you had become used to and had opted for one of the many kimonos you had brought to Sunagakure. It seemed the right thing to do. You strove to use every tool in your arsenal to appear ladylike and good-natured. Especially after your … eventful night.

“Elders.” Gaara greeted them with a respectful nod, though he remained seated.

“Wha —“ Joseki stammered. “How —?”

“It seems,” Ebizo began, studying Gaara as he found a seat, “our Lord Kazekage has beaten us to the punch.”

You eyed the group but could find no female. “Where is Ikanago?”

“If you must know,” Ebizo grunted as he lowered into his seat, “Lady Ikanago was so excited to hear about this … greenhouse fiasco, she had an accident at home and now nurses a broken hip. She will be absent for our meetings until further notice.”

“I’m …” You struggled as Kankuro snickered from across you, “sorry to hear about that.”

“If the Kazekage insists, then we will get to the point,” Joseki said. He still stood as his contemporaries sat, ready to round on Gaara. “What is this we’ve been hearing about drugs and — and orgies?”

“Pardon?” Temari said.

Oh no. You resisted a facepalm; it sounded like the rumors were doing what all rumors did: bifurcate, multiply, mutate. So the story now was that you and Gaara were throwing orgies while getting high? This was what you had to deal with? For the first time since worries about rumors began, you felt a surge of resentment for Matsuri.

Thanks a lot .

“Nothing but mendacious chatter, I assure you,” Gaara’s voice was placid, ever composed. He sat with you on his right, siblings on his left, his fingers knitted together on the table. “Please, Elder, sit down.”

“Reckless, My Lord, reckless — even if the rumors are exaggerated!” Goza leaned forward. “Under the influence, again? My Lord, we warned you about a second time.”

“And I abided by the warning,” Gaara retorted. “I was simply caught unawares.”

“Lord Kazekage,” Ryusa said, already exasperated. “It is only a matter of time before this information travels outside of the village. We will be a laughing stock!”

“And what of your student? This Matsuri?” Sajo said. “She’s awaiting a hearing! Who will attend it?”

The council room flared with so much chatter it was hard to decipher who was saying what where.

“So disgraceful —”

“If she’s proven guilty —?”

“We cannot afford what this gossip will cost us —!”

You glanced at Joseki, who was silent. And why wouldn’t he be? All he had to do was allow the council to speak for him. This is what he’s always wanted: for the council to turn against Gaara …

“Lord Kazekage,” Ebizo spoke above the rest, compelling the others to silence, “understands his role as Kage. I highly doubt anything that has been said today hasn’t been considered by himself a thousand times over.”

“We can only wonder, now, can’t we?” Sajo shot a finger toward you. “And what do you have to say for yourself?”

You shot him your coldest noblewoman stare in return. “I do not tremble at the prospect of foul rumors and neither does my fiancé; only the shallow entertain them.”

“Perhaps you should,” Sajo replied. “You are to be married to Lord Kazekage in a month’s time. You are meant to be a lady and yet you run around like a — ”

“Enough.”

Despite the council’s attempts to intimidate him, Gaara’s title and gravitas forced them quiet. Heads turned to him expectantly, but for seconds more he built anticipation.

Oh, boy, here it comes …

“For years, I have suffered the cold harangues of this council,” Gaara began. “You have given me orders. You have insulted my family. Yet, I have taken it all in stride for the good of the village and those of you who purport to love it and hold it in high esteem.”

“Lo —Lord Kazekage.” Sajo gaped at his Kazekage. “Do you accuse us of simple lip service?”

“Sajo is right,” Ryusa said. “You can’t expect —?”

“I expect you to advise me.” Gaara stood and pressed palms flat on the table. “So, advise me. If you love this village as much as you say, you will rally behind me. You will help to alleviate the chaos this incident might have caused. So far, I have received aid only from my siblings, future wife, and former sensei. This is what they have come up with.” Gaara motioned to Temari. “My sister, Lady Temari, will take to the streets to answer questions. My brother, Lord Kankuro, will carry the brunt of this incident and admit it was caused by his prank. Though, I doubt the people of the Sand will be so quick to throw me away on simple gossip as my council.”

“I agree with Lord Kazekage,” Baki said. “I think his role in defeating Madara Uchiha will have certainly solidified their love for him.”

Kankuro held up defensive hands. “Just our opinion, however.”

“Regardless,” Gaara went on as if neither Baki or Kankuro had spoken, “whether or not we succeed in containing and curtailing this mishap will be on your hands as well as mine.”

No one spoke. It was a tall order; something told you the urge to critique the young Kage while feeling no responsibility to guide him was a tantalizing one. But if his failure was theirs? Less so.

You thought of how timid Gaara was with you upon your first meeting, how even a hand hold had seemed promiscuous. He was a gentleman always, and the insinuation he would rope you into group sex — and it would be easy for many to believe — was not funny to you. Your boiling blood challenged your poker face. Do they really have so little faith in him? After everything he’s done?

Ebizo was first to break the silence. “My sister, Lady Chiyo, had faith in our Lord Kazekage. As do I. He is a strong man, one of conviction.” Ebizo gazed at you consolingly. “And Lady (Y/n), though I know little of her, shows bravery in facing these rumors head on. Their mistakes are ones any one of us would have made in our youth. These are peaceful times, fit for celebration. Perhaps these two got carried away with their feelings. I agree with Lord Kazekage’s assessment of the situation.”

You mouthed a thank you to Ebizo and caught his imperceptible nod your way.

“As do I.”

Your lips parted in astonishment as the attention went to Joseki.

“I, of all of you, have been the most harsh on Lord Kazekage.” Joseki cast his gaze on the table. “We can only hope to earn his forgiveness by dedicating ourselves to his rule.”

The council gazed at one another with surprise and confusion. This time no one spoke for a different reason.

Ikanago’s spoken to him, You theorized with relief. Or maybe it was you, so willing to vacation with Gaara despite his warnings. He hadn’t managed to scare you off. Had that counted for anything?

Gaara motioned to you. “My fiancé has something to announce to you all.”

On cue, you stood, swallowing your nerves along the way. You squared your shoulders as you said, “My father, Lord Boutoku, will be arriving in a matter of days.”

Excited murmurs sounded among the council.

“A shame Ikanago won't be here for that,” Kankuro said under his breath.

“We will need your help in preparing a warm greeting for him,” You continued.

The initial chaos of the meeting mellowed into an enthused optimism as it came to a close. The council members sung a completely different tune now, praising Gaara and overjoyed at the prospect of your father’s arrival. Sajo approached you, seemingly to apologize for his almost-comment, but Gaara stepped in front of you, armed with a pointed look, and Sajo hurriedly excused himself from the hall.

“You did so well, little brother.” Kankuro patted Gaara on the shoulder as the elders left. Only you, Baki, and his siblings were left.

“Excellent, truly, Lord Kazekage,” Baki added.

“Truly flawless!” Temari said, looking impressed as she crossed her arms.

Gaara pinkened under the praise. The gravitas befitting his station had vanished, leaving only the man you knew. He nodded sheepishly at his siblings but eyed you.

“I don’t think,” You stepped toward him, “anyone could’ve done better.”

Gaara smiled.

“It is too bad about Ikanago’s hip, though,” You added.

“Not surprising news.” Kankuro gathered up significant papers at the table. “These relics would rather die than retire so those younger than them can come in and actually change things.” He laid a hand over his heart. “I, on the other hand, will retire by the ripe age of thirty — at the latest.”

“We all hope you do,” Temari joked.

Days passed. Preparations for your father’s arrival were laid out, and Gaara, most of all, was happy he wouldn’t be caught by surprise by his future father-in-law.

Despite your bleak anecdotes, Gaara was excited to meet him. You refused to dull his enthusiasm by sharing anything too intimate, especially since it seemed your father would be on his best behavior anyway.

Maybe. Oh, gods, you hoped so.

There was still Matsuri to handle, but Gaara told you they would delay her hearing until he had ample time for it.

“It’s so weird seeing you behind that desk now,” You said to Gaara.

Gaara was back to work as Kazekage after his long sabbatical. Kankuro and Temari assisted in ceding him urgent paperwork and documentation. Kankuro told him he could hold down the fort for a little longer, but Gaara had insisted.

“It’s for the best.” Gaara smiled at you.

“Maybe it is,” Kankuro teased. “We see what happens when our little brother has too much free time on his hands.”

“I’d like to thank you, too, Kankuro,” Gaara said, “for all your hard work.”

“Ah, Gaara …” Kankuro grinned. “What are brothers for?”

Gaara sobered. “I prefer Lord Kazekage.”

Kankuro’s ease tapered. “Oh, I — I —“

Gaara smiled. “Just kidding.”

You and Temari laughed as Kankuro wrapped an arm around Gaara and pulled him in for a side-hug.

“You got me!” Kankuro said. “I really have grown on you!”

Temari and Kankuro left Gaara to it. You were alone with him; the silence rang in your ears. You sighed into it. Could it be? Were you actually … relaxed? After the whirlwind, also referred to as the last few days, you were calm. The room had been decluttered of extraneous plants and puppets and now appeared too bare to you. Emptied. You studied the paperwork pile, handed Gaara a sheet of paper stamped with importance.

Gaara accepted it. “Thank you.”

You let your hand dangle in the air. “Can you believe it?”

He raised his head. “What?”

“Exactly.” You smiled. “It’s actually quiet. What did we do to deserve it?”

Gaara echoed your joy with a small smile. “You’re right. I’m used to Temari and Kankuro yelling at each other on their way out.”

You giggled. For a moment, you stared at him working, his motions rhythmic. Slip, read, stamp. Slip, read, stamp. Your gaze trailed up his forearms until you noticed the hunch at his shoulders.

“You still seem a bit tense.”

“Hm.” Gaara’s attention was on a document. “There’s still much to do and not all of it pleasant.”

You came around the desk, your heels clicking against the floor, until you were behind Gaara. You chuckled with surprise; he seemed not to notice you. Perhaps he thought you were looking out the window? You settled hands on his shoulders from behind.

He paused. You kneaded his shoulders, unsure if you were doing it right until Gaara’s groan vindicated you.

Gaara cleared the gravel from his throat. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want to be the only one relaxed.”

Gaara leaned into your touch. His shoulders fell as he sighed. His hair brushed against your lower stomach. You leaned forward, your arms crisscrossing around his chest, your cheek brushing against his. Gaara met your eye, his heartbeat thrumming against your wrist, a sound thundering in the taut quiet.

His hand slipped past your neck, fingers pressing into the onset of your spine. “Come.”

Don’t use that word, please.

Gaara plucked the hem of your top to beckon you. This was a bad idea … And yet you inclined as he did, his magnetism too great to resist, and your lips met.

“Gaa …” He kissed his name away. Gaara caressed your cheek, deepening the kiss as a consequence. It was neither the timid kiss in the lagoon nor the lustful kiss in the greenhouse. It sat at the nexus of both, familiar and new. Lingering. You craved more. You tried to voice his name again and again you were silenced.

Gaara broke away after a second, sensing your resistance though you did nothing to resist. “I’m sorry … It’s been so long since I kissed you. I’ve been wanting to do it again.”

The warmth in your cheeks alerted you to your blush. You blinked. “We shouldn’t.” Your protest sounded futile. “We can’t. Not after the council, I … We have to behave, I think … I’m sorry — this is my fault, I got too … This is reckless …” You swayed back, swallowing in a dry mouth. “The door — It isn’t even locked.”

“And if I lock it?”

You met both Gaara’s gaze and challenge with silence. You froze as he stood and strode to the door. It locked it with a clink. You released a broken exhale as he returned, face inches from yours.

“Answer me.”

You licked your lips, tasting the remnants of him there. Your answer should be no, followed with a rapid shake of your head, but the word slipped from your lips to tell the truth:

“Yes.”

Gaara took your hand, led you forward until you were sinking into him —

And against his lips again. You cupped Gaara’s face as he embraced you, crushing you to his chest. Your breasts sat plush against his trench-coat, eliciting a soft gasp from your fiancé. Gaara’s lips parted to admit a groan, but you swallowed it before grazing your tongue on his lower lip and inviting yourself into his mouth. Your nail snatched on one of the buttons of his trench-coat. You sighed at the memory of his erection, firmly pressed against you in the greenhouse. You anticipated it now. You adjusted until both of your legs were on either side of him, your backside resting on the desk’s edge. You fisted the fabric of his coat. Gaara swiped at your tongue; you gasped, a throb from below sending you grinding against his abdomen.

“(Y/n) …” Gaara broke away only to kiss a path down your jaw.

You moaned as his teeth grazed the tender neckskin. You bit your lip as his hand crept up the hem of your shirt. The feel of skin on skin wiped your mind blank.

Yes yes yes —

A knock.

You came up from water. Gaara pulled away; the loss of his counterweight sent you stumbling to your feet. Gaara composed himself, glaring at the surface of his desk before helping you away from it. After a few beats, he said, “Come in.”

The knob turned — and turned.

“Oh!” You hurried to unlock it. A shinobi awaited you on the other side.

“Uh, Lady (Y/n).” He nodded Gaara’s way. “Lord Kazekage.”

“What is it?” he asked.

“Well, it’s … Lord Boutoku has arrived.”

#gaara x reader #gaara x you #gaara x y/n #gaara smut #naruto x reader #naruto x y/n #naruto x you #naruto smut #my work

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