#obito uchiha x y/n

[mrsbakashi]

coming out of my cage just to post this and then going right back into it because i'm still taking a break

naruto characters and their kinks - uchiha edition (and kakashi)

(because i have to put him in everything, and if you didn't see this coming i don't know what to tell you)

⚠️ +18 content under the cut

itachi

➳ praise kink

he's such a sweetheart, has so much love for you in his heart he just can't not praise your every move. kisses every inch of your body going on and on about how beautiful and perfect you are, how soft your skin is and tells you how luck he is to be the one that gets to be with you. loves watching the way your pussy greedily swallows him whole, but also loves looking at your face squirming in pleasure, so he always activates his sharingan so he can see everything while telling you constantly how good you feel when your walls are clenching around him and you're the only thing in his mind. "you feel so so good, my love" he whispers while thrusting slowly and hard into you. "you're doing so well" he praises when you're almost there, drawing circles on your clit to get you there faster and harder. sex with itachi is never about him, it's only about you, so he only considers a job well done when you're kicking the air, pushing him away, begging him to stop because you can't take it anymore, then he cleans you up with a damp towel, pulls you to his arms and tells you what a good girl you were and reassures you how much he loves you while you feel your sleep sweep you away.

➳ breeding kink

uchihas and breeding kink, what a cliche - yes, ok, but no uchiha is so into breeding like itachi is. he doesn't do it purely because it feels incredibly amazing, or because the sight of your pussy overflowing with both your cums while he tries to fuck it right back into you is heavenly, but because, to him, it's about love - it's about how you love him so much you accept the idea of creating a life with him. he's used to cum inside you, it's been a thing since the beginning because he used it as a way to mark you, to make you his even so more and more, gently kissing you on the lips while emptying himself inside your warmth, but after you stopped you pill because you were trying the man just went insane - starting a family with the woman he loves most in the world, restabilishing the clan? hell yeah! you have him all over you all the time, and each time, let me tell you, you're not leaving until he's positive there's a baby inside you. but don't worry, he'll make sure you'll cum yourself and will tell you on and on how much he loves you. so sweet.

obito

➳ exhibitionism

obito's a slut for you, he's all about making everyone know you're his. and i mean everyone. made it his entire life's mission to make you scream so loud the whole neighborhood knows his name - and people tried to complain, but the second they see how scary obito is they actually apologize. loses it when you go on a walk and sees the way other men look at you - kisses you so violently in from of them and it takes everything in him to not take you right there. takes you out on drives to fuck you on the backseat in a random parking lot and hopes someone will see you two and see how much you belong to him, how eager you are for his touch. it's not enough that people know you're together, he needs to make sure everyone know he's the only one who can make you feel like that, completely given to him. you are his alone in every single way possible and the whole world must know that.

➳ praise kink

his praise kink is not about you, but about him. he loves the sweet praises that leave your lips when he's working wonders on your body, he'll coax the words out of you tenderly, sweet kisses here and there. please please please tell him over and over how he's the only one that can make you feel that good, that there's no one else in the world for you, and how insanely good his cock feels pounding into you, how he hits just the right place without any effort simply because you were made for each other and how happy you are that you belong to him. you make him feel like a god, he swears he can feel his soul ascending to another plan, and for that he'll give you more and more, he'll give you everything he has. everything. you have him wrapped around your finger.

sasuke

➳ dacryphilia

lives for the sight of tears on your beautiful face while he relentlessly fucks you, mercilessly tossing your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half like you're nothing but a doll that exists solely for his pleasure. pounds into you so fast and hard it honestly hurts, but it also feels so fucking good you don't care. loves the first thrust, when it's so rough because he's so big, and even if you're so wet it hurts and you always feel it won't fit - the little cries that leave your lips while you struggle to take him. loves loooves to make you gag on his cock, when he pushes into your throat and stops your breathing 'til you're desperately gasping for air, letting you breath for three whole seconds before doing it again and again and again til you're pushing him away with all your strength, nearly passing out, your face so red and wet with tears and despair. it's his favorite sight in the whole world, he'd kill thousands and thousands just to be able to see it. he loves you so fucking much.

➳ degradation/humiliation kink

boy, does he degrade you! not only is he mean with his actions, his words would hurt you more than a thousand cuts if he wasn't also so careful afterwards - you are his angel and he'll make sure you know that every breathing moment, but not when he's fucking you because he fucks you like he hates you, like he fucking despises you, violently pounding into you, rocking his hips against yours so hard you just know he'll bruise your cervix, and you will hear what a whore you are, that you begged for his cock to a humiliation point, and only when you got on your knees, crawling behind him, begging him to please please please at least touch you once was he kind enough to fuck you. "because that's what you are, nothing but a fucking whore!". you moan his name so loud he has to cover your mouth "filthy slut!" he slaps your asscheek so hard it's gonna leave a bruise the shape of his hand, because he loves hearing how you scream and cry, and that makes your walls clench harder around him "does it feel good, yeah? little filthy slut likes to hear how pathetic she is? fucking whore." he slaps your ass again, and again and again, 'til you're clenching so much around him he can't help but cum deep inside you, telling you you're nothing but an uchiha cum dump - good thing he's the last uchiha, because there's no way in hell he'd share you. you're his alone.

madara

➳ corruption kink

first time he saw you he thought you were too beautiful, too innocent to be left alone. he had to ruin you, to open your body to a new sensation only he could offer, then having you addicted on it, on him, so you'd act like a puppy around him, begging for the mere contact of his skin on yours. you were so young, you didn't know any better. honestly, you felt so flattered when madara uchiha himself showed interest in you that you ignored the warning of your father, but you had no idea he'd turn you into the perfect sub for his wildest and darkest needs and desires, literally begging on your knees for him to let you at least lick his boots, feeling like the luckiest woman alive when he kissed you. you went from a peacefully happy young woman to a great nothing but anxiety and desperation, completely obsessed with him - but when he fucked, god, when he fucked you! suddenly everything was worth it, you forgot how miserable you felt most of the time because of him, because you lived for those moments when he rocked his hips against yours, telling you what a good girl you've been to him. and you were his favourite, that's why he's trained you so well.

➳ power kink

i mean come on! come on! this man lives for feeling like a god, like the most powerful man that has ever stepped into this universe, so of course with you is no different. he'll make sure he's the center of your entire world - and not only during sex. you can kiss your friends and family goodbye, he's the only one you need now. church? faith? not in a million years - he's your entire religion. absolutely tortures you in bed, denies you so much, makes you beg til humiliation point so you have nothing else on your mind, nothing else you wish for but him, and when he gracefully grants your wish you'll know he is truly god. there's absolutely no one above him. he was, he is and he always will be. always.

kakashi

➳ brat taming

translating: he's a fucking menace. because he loves brat taming, he'll annoy the shit out of you until you're so mad you could explode, then he'll pin you down and fuck you hard just to show you he's the one in charge. "who do you think you're talking to like that, huh?" he'll hold your hands above your head, sometimes even tie them, so you can't even touch him, because you behaved so badly you don't deserve to feel his skin on the tip of your fingers "do i look like one of your friends for you to talk to me like that?". will tap your cheek to get you to reply, because you're so far gone you can't barely form a sentence "n-no, sir!", "good, then apologize", "i-i'm sorry, sir!". when you're almost cumming he'll reduce the movement of his hips to a bare minimum to make you beg, so fucks you slow and hard to make you come hard - and i mean hard. every single time. aftercare is heaven, tho.

➳ cum kink

his favorite sight in the entire world is his cum all over your body - keeps pictures of you like that in his phone so he can survive long missions away from you. he always comes hard and, tho he loves breeding you and seeing it come out of your beautiful pussy as he fucks it right back into you, nothing beats how beautiful your breasts look covered in his cum, how sexy you look with your face painted white as you naughtily smile after sucking him so good and making him come all over it. it's as if you loved it more than he does himself, and he doesn't think that's possible, but there you are, begging him to cum all over you, over and over again, rubbing it on your skin like it's your favorite moisturizer then looking at him with those eyes, those fucking eyes, asking for more. god, you're such a slut for him! it's so sexy he honestly pities how he can't fuck you 24/7, because doing anything else feels like such a waste...

© MRSBAKASHI / MRSBAKASHI 2023 - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DO NOT COPY OR PLAGIARIZE MY CONTENT AND POST ON THIS WEBSITE OR DIFFERENT PLATFORMS.

#uchiha smut #uchiha kink #itachi uchiha smut #itachi smut #itachi x you #itachi x y/n #kakashi x you #kakashi smut #kakashi hatake smut #kakashi x y/n #sasuke uchiha smut #sasuke smut #sasuke x you #sasuke x y/n #sasuke uchiha x you #obito x you #obito smut #obito uchiha smut #obito uchiha x you #obito uchiha x y/n #obito x reader #kakashi x reader #itachi x reader #sasuke x reader #madara smut #madara uchiha smut #madara uchiha x you #madara x y/n #madara x you #mine

[actuallysaiyan]

Please Please(Uchiha breeding kink headcanons)

warnings: breeding kink, unprotected sex, biting, smuttiness, possessiveness, Uchiha smutty goodness. a/n: This is inspired by @beneathstarryskies trying out a new format, so I had to try it out for myself. Part 1 of 2. Contains Shisui, Sasuke and Obito.

Shisui

Shisui never realized just how badly he needed to breed you until he came inside of you for the first time.

It was a mutual thing. It became the norm every time he fucked you. But the more you did it, the more he wanted you pregnant.

Shisui is loving and thorough, but he can be quite rough and passionate. It’s just within his nature.

“That’s my good girl.” Shisui pants as he pounds himself into you.

You don’t remember how many times you’ve actually cum. Tears are streaming down your face as you try to catch your breath. Shisui chuckles softly and he presses a kiss to your chapped lips. That fucked out look in your eyes makes his cock throb., and he has to look away before he blows his load too quickly. His face burrows in the crook of your neck. Those fast thrusts continue, filling the room with your skin slapping.

“If only you knew what you did to me. You know how crazy this little pussy makes me? Do you know that you’ve made me addicted to this?”

You whine and nod your head, but then you aren’t really sure you know what he’s talking about. Shisui bites down on the junction between your neck and your shoulder. It’s what sends you over the edge once more, and milks him dry.

Shisui is still shuddering minutes after his orgasm. And it doesn’t take long for his cock to get hard again.

Sasuke

Sasuke doesn’t want to admit how badly he wants to breed you. It’s just not really in his nature to talk about this.

The thought alone of this one act drives him insane. It’s just overwhelming. It makes him want to always be balls deep inside of you.

He gets feral. He needs the stimulation. He craves being that close to you. If you had a baby with him, it would be the ultimate act of your devotion to him.

“Shhh, take another load for me.” Sasuke mumbles, kissing you frantically.

You’ve been on this mattress for hours now. The air is so hot and thick. Your mouth is so dry, and your voice so hoarse. But Sasuke has so much more to give you. He needs this so badly. It feels like it’s been forever. He hates how much he’s been avoiding this. All to keep you out of his feelings. Sasuke wishes he could just be honest with himself sometimes. But it is so thrilling for him to be able to have you like this.

His cock pistons into you over and over, making you gasp and whimper. It’s too much. His thick head keeps bullying your poor sweet spot. His pubic bone brushes against your swollen clit with every thrust. You hear him chuckle darkly from time to time, and you know he’s just torturing you. Sasuke could have you cum a million times and it still wouldn’t be enough. There’s nothing better than your tight little walls trying to swallow his cock whole.

“Going to fuck a baby into you. You’d love that wouldn’t you?” Sasuke grunts as your walls pulse around him. “You’ll have no choice but to stay by my side.”

Obito

Obito didn’t even think he’d get the chance to love again, let alone the chance to have sex. It opened his mind to new possibilities.

You’re meant to be his little assistant in the Akatsuki, but really you are just a cocksleeve and Obito enjoys that a lot.

He doesn’t care if you’re only meant to be a stress reliever, he’s fallen for you so hard. He’s going to do all he can to get you pregnant.

“Obito, please. Slow down.” You plead but it falls on deaf ears. Obito is much too invested in his own pleasure at the moment.

He’s already made you cum. Now it’s his turn. He feels so fucking greedy when he just uses your little hole for his own pleasure. But Obito knows he’s not a selfish lover. He’ll make sure you get yours. And boy, did you ever. Obito will have you shuddering and shaking, but now that it’s his turn to cum, he just wants to rut into you over and over. He wants your little walls to squeeze his cock so tight. It’s all he thinks about when he’s not around you.

“Don’t be a brat. I want to cum now,” Obito says, and he thrusts into you harder. You cry out, your nails digging into his back.

His hips snap so quickly, you can barely catch your breath. His large hands hold tightly onto your hips, pulling you closer with every thrust. He’s never been so deep inside of you before. Something has just snapped deep inside of him. He’s going to get you pregnant this time. He has to. He wants it more than anything. He’ll think he’s an absolute failure and disappointment to his clan. This is the one thing he can do to prove he’s a true Uchiha.

“Fuck yes! I’m gonna fill you up!” He growls, and with a loud roar, he spills his seed deep inside of you.

If this doesn’t take hold, it’ll just turn into a longer round the next time.

#bacon.writes #uchiha clan #shisui uchiha #shisui uchiha x you #shisui uchiha x reader #shisui uchiha x y/n #sasuke uchiha #sasuke uchiha x you #sasuke uchiha x y/n #sasuke uchiha x reader #obito uchiha #obito uchiha x you #obito uchiha x reader #obito uchiha x y/n #uchiha breeding kink #uchiha clan smut #uchiha shisui #uchiha sasuke #uchiha obito #obito uchiha smut #shisui uchiha smut #sasuke uchiha smut #naruto #naruto shippuden

[hauntedhokage]

tempting

Obito Uchiha/F!Reader (modern!au)

summary: you’re back in town for winter break, enjoying a night with your friends before you’re fully stuck with your brother, his roommate, and whatever rules you’d be stuck following. maybe it’s the alcohol, but fucking the handsome stranger in the corner doesn’t seem like a bad idea

word count: 3k

warnings: slight age gap, (reader isn’t old enough to legally drink but over 18 and obito is like 26-27) underage drinking, public sex, dubcon (since they’ve both been drinking a lot), hair pulling 

You didn’t expect the fakes to work. You were glad they did, since you and your friends had paid too much money on some fake ids to get into a club. The tiny dresses probably helped with the bouncer who was checking ids at the door, definitely helped your small group get out of the cover charge, but once you’re in the bustling club your group is flocking to the bar before squeezing into one of the booths in the back to enjoy yourselves. You were all back in town for winter break, and you were going to enjoy this night before you were stuck in your older brother’s apartment with him and his roommate with nothing to do. 

You were three drinks in and definitely feeling the buzz, needing a brief break from dancing with a couple of your friends had you returning to the table where you had a glass of water calling your name. Once you’re seated you aren’t paying any attention to what’s happening around you, as you were very focused on trying to cool yourself down, until your friend leans in to giggle in your ear about how some guy was totally eyeing you, and you’re looking over your shoulder to try and see who. There’s additional information added, and your eyes find him rather quickly. Black shirt in the corner with dark hair, looked like the lead in one of the dramas that you and your best friend watched weekly. Eye contact is made, and the wink he sends your way has you giggling as you turn back to your friend to tell her that you were going to go to the bar and get another drink.

Luck is on your side when you feel a presence to your left and see the handsome stranger. He looks more familiar than just bearing resemblance to an actor, but you can’t place it and are too drunk to want to think about it more. It’d come to you eventually, for now you were going to enjoy the undivided attention of this older guy and hope he wasn’t creepy about it.

“What’re you drinking, sweetheart?” he asks in your ear, and you lean up to tell him what your drink of choice was as he signals for the bartender. He orders two, you assume the other for himself, along with two shots and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth when you feel his hand on your hip. “I’ve had my eye on you all night, you’re really hot.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” That hand moves lower, to the hem of your short dress, and your eyes widen slightly at the feeling of his skin against yours. His fingers play with the hem of your dress as your drinks are set down, and he’s telling the bartender to put it on his tab before he carefully raises his shot glass as you pick up the other. The two glasses clink together before you’re throwing them back, his going down with much more ease than yours, and he’s chuckling at the way you cringe as the alcohol burns its way down your throat. 

“You’re very cute,” he teases, helping you up onto the stool that was just vacated and moving in closer. His hand stays on your thigh, fingertips just under your dress with his touch feelings as if it burns him your skin as you bring the straw to your lips. “But you know that.”

“Do I?” you ask around the straw, sucking the alcohol into your mouth and biting on the plastic when he leaned in closer. 

“I just told you, so yeah.” You aren’t even thinking about how quickly you’re drinking your drink and how badly doing so couldend for you, but you didn’t have a response to this man who was watching you so intensely while drinking his own drink. “Bet you’ve got a line of dudes wanting to be where I am.”

“I don’t see them anywhere,” you counter, pushing your glass away once you realize it was empty. Tomorrow would be rough but tonight you were interested in where things went with this guy. “I only see you.” 

“Maybe I scared ‘em all off,” he muses, and you shrug while sliding off the stool. “D’ya wanna dance?”

You’re being led out to the middle of the dancefloor before your agreement fully leaves your lips, but you’re not bothered by his eagerness in the slightest. Maybe it was the alcohol, but it was nice to have someone be so interested in you - even if it didn’t leave the darkened club.

His hands feel right on your hips, holding you close but not so tightly that you couldn’t pull away if you wanted to - not that you did want to. Your arms are loosely wrapped around his neck, swaying with him to the beat of whatever pop song remix was playing. He knows about half of it, based on how he’s mumbling some of the words, and you can’t help but think about how cute this guy was. His hands move from your hips to cup your ass, giving the barely covered cheeks a squeeze while pulling you in closer as the song switches to something more upbeat. You feel the hardening erection against your hips and bite your lip, knowing that he wanted you to know how hard he was. Maybe it was the alcohol but you wanted to do something about it. 

So your hand moves between your bodies, first a finger tugging at his belt loop before your hand is stroking him through the denim. 

“You’re playing with fire, cutie,” he warns, his voice low in your ear and stirring the already boiling heat in your center. Tonight was about having fun and making bad decisions, this would be both of those things but you couldn’t care. “Wanna fuck you so bad already, don’t tease me.”

“Then fuck me,” you request, pulling him down for a kiss. He’s eager and the kiss is sloppy considering your inebriated state, but it’s exactly what you wanted in this moment even if you were surrounded by people who were watching. You can see the gears turning when you separate, and he’s grinning as he takes your hand to lead you away from the dancefloor and towards the restrooms. 

“Such a pretty girl, and you wanna fuck me?” he asks as he pulls you through the door, shutting it and shoving you against it. “Want me to fuck that cute little pussy?”

“Please.”

“Fuckin’ teasing me since you walked in with your cute little friends.” He’s undoing his belt, groaning at the feeling of your lips on his neck as he starts to lead you towards the lone stall in the men’s bathroom. “In your tight little dress, fuck me.”

He’s squatting in front of you, pushing your dress up with one hand and pulling your panties down with the other. You know they’re taken off of you, but you don’t register where he’s put them since his mouth latching onto your clit as two fingers push into your pussy has your mind scrambled more than the alcohol already had. Your hand is in his hair, gripping at the soft dark locks as he prepares you for his cock, eliciting a groan against your clit when you give a tug. 

“You taste so good, cutie. Could be down here forever I think.” The praise has your breath hitching, your grip on his hair tightening as he works his fingers in and out of you. “But you’re so fucking tight, think I’m gonna break you. Gotta make you come before I-“

“No, please just fuck me.”

“Uh uh.” He’s standing to his full height, his fingers still moving inside you as his other hand grabs a handful of your hair and pulls your head back so he can look you in the eye. “That might be how those little boys fuck, but a real man prioritizes his partner’s comfort.”

You nod to the best of your ability with his hand still holding your head in place, and he smiles before he kisses you again. Like the last ones it’s sloppy, just like the pace of his fingers in your cunny as they worked to stretch you open. It’s after you’ve adjusted to three of his thick fingers that he pulls away, offering them to you as his other hand goes to his belt so you could get to the main event. You moan at the taste of your arousal on his fingers, your tongue lavishing the digits in attention to clean them of your essence while you feel the tip of his cock brush against your clit. This was it, his hand moving from your lips so he could bring your leg up to his hip before you feel him prodding at your entrance. 

He wasn’t lying when he said he might break you, and you intentionally kept your eyes focused on his own dark irises because you didn’t want to see how big he was - that was only going to intimidate you. 

His groan as he finally starts to push in is deep, coming from the back of his throat and drowning out your pathetic whine at the stretch you still needed to be able to accommodate his girth. Your hands grip his shoulders tightly, eyes closing tight at the slight pain while trying to breathe your way through it. This was after he’d prepped you, and it still felt like this? You weren’t walking out of this bathroom when it was all said and done, he was going to have to carry you. 

“Oh, fuck,” he breathes, pressing his face into your neck while carefully hoisting you up against the stall a bit more. “Sorry, cutie, I guess I should’ve done more. You good?”

You would be, he just needed to start moving, and he grins when you tell him as much. There are kisses trailed along your neck and chest, trying to soothe you as he slowly starts to move his hips against yours. There are promises to make you feel good, promises to take care of you, and you believe them all as the discomfort finally subsides and you’re begging for him to fuck into you faster, harder, just please fuck you. 

“Fuck,” he’s groaning into your mouth, hands on your hips keeping you still as he finds his pace-  rough and unrelenting, a man on a mission to get off and you can only cling to his shoulders to stay upright despite being slammed back against the stall with each thrust. “You feel so good, cutie. So fuckin’ good on my cock.”

On the other side of the stall door, you barely register the sound of people coming and going, the occasional cheer for the dude that was clearly getting some, and none of it embarasses you like you thought it would. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe you were more drunk on the dick than you were the drink - either way you just can’t bring yourself to care because you were winning right now. 

“C’mon cutie, come on my cock,” he requests, his hand moving to the juncture where your bodies were connected. His thumb is on your clit, the pressure against the sensitive bud making you see stars as the white hot pleasure continues to build in your core. You were close, so close, and you know that he knows by the way he’s urging you along with quick strokes of his thumb and hard strokes of his cock. Your pleasured cries are muffled by his kiss, your hands tugging at his hair as you finally topple over that edge and into the blissful heat that was your orgasm. He fucks you through it, barely containing himself through the rhythmic clenching of your walls around his girth - making what was already a tight fit almost impossible for him to be able to survive.

“Fuck, fuck!” His hips stutter against yours before he stills, chest heaving against yours as his cum spills into the thin latex barrier. He leaves a trail of open mouthed kisses along your neck and chest, careful not to leave marks as your fingers try to smooth his hair down that you had definitely messed up. “Shit, cutie. I could fuck you for hours. Wanna take you home, wanna come home with me?”

“I can’t, if I don’t make it home my brother will send a search party.”

“Overprotective?”

“Very.” He’s pulling out with a groan, carefully letting your leg down so you can regain balance on your two feet. Your legs feel weak, and that has him chuckling as he has to steady you.

“I’d be overprotective too, if my sister was as sexy as you. But can I give you my number? I wanna see you again.”

“Fuck me again?”

“Buy you dinner first.” You laugh, your head falling forward against his shoulder as the drunk giggles set in. “It’ll be a good one. I’ll even cook.” 

He’s removing the condom, knotting it and tossing it into the trash can before his hands set to stuffing himself back into his underwear and fixing his jeans. Your hands are in his pocket, pulling his phone out and holding it in front of him to unlock before going into his contacts to add yourself. Complete with a contact photo of you kissing his cheek and your emoji choice behind your name. He’s quick to snatch the device back to text you “before he forgot” and you’re fixing your dress as he kisses you again. 

“Gonna let me fuck you again, yeah?”

“Yeah, I want you to fuck me again.” He’s excited to hear it, kissing you again before opening the stall door to let you out. 

“I gotta pee, I’ll catch up with you I promise.” You nod, reluctantly pulling away from him and exiting the bathroom with a plan to go get your phone and some water. Screw what your brother thought about how your break time should be spent, if you could land a winter fling to keep you occupied then you were going to do that. A little fun never hurt anything, especially not when the fun came in the form of a man that handsome who fucked that well.

“You’re a bit young to be here, don’t you think?” That voice was not good to hear, not after you’d just finished having sex with a stranger in the bathroom of a club you weren’t legally allowed to be in. You were in for a lecture, for sure. And then another one when you were sober, since your brother liked to make sure you remembered your lesson. 

“K-Kakashi? What are you doing here, you don’t have fun.”

“Out, you know what my car looks like.” 

“You can’t boss me around, I’m an adult!” An adult whose world is spinning a bit too fast now, and your elder brother is catching you as you stumble before he directs you into the women’s bathroom while apologizing to the ladies fixing their makeup so you can empty your stomach contents into the toilet. 

“An adult, huh?” He’s clearly amused as he stands in the doorway to the stall, and you’re very annoyed as you continue to throw up. He wouldn’t be so amused if you threw up in his car, but he’d also make you clean up after yourself. 

“Please fuck off,” you groan, flipping him off as you try to catch your breath. Too much, too fast, and you were going to blame the handsome stranger that just finished fucking your brains out. You didn’t even know his name. 

“Once I get you home, I’ll leave you alone.”

--

The following morning finds Obito standing in the kitchen, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. He’d come home after Kakashi had apparently dragged his little sister and her underage friends out of the club, which was funny to hear about when Asuma had told him what had happened. He hated to have missed it, but he was getting some great pussy so he chalked it up to “win some, lose some”. 

His dear roommate had already left for work, so the shuffling that he heard was definitely the little sister finally stirring. He hadn’t seen her in a while, so he was curious to see what she looked like now. 

“Oh, good morning Obito,” he hears, and he looks up from the still brewing coffee only to freeze when it registers just who he was seeing there. 

Oh, Kakashi was going to kill him should he find out. 

There you were, the girl he fucked in the bathroom and thought about for the rest of the night, the girl the thought about while he jacked off in the shower this morning, the girl he sent a dick pic to before he went to bed, and you were standing in front of him wearing one of your older brother’s shirts and some shorts that he could barely see peeking out under the shirt. You were the little sister they’d be hosting for a few weeks, on winter break from your university, the sister he’d been explicitly told to steer clear of. 

Too late for that. 

But if you recognize him, you make no notion that you did. Instead you prepare your toast and coffee quietly, eyes focused on your task and not wandering like his would wander to you. You were cuter in the light - did you know?

“Obito,” you murmur, turning with your breakfast in hand and watching with a small smile as he stands up straighter. “Those were my favorite panties, and I’d like them back.”

Kakashi was going to kill him, but there was no way he’d be able to resist his urges when you would be under the same roof for weeks. With an overprotective older brother who was hardly home due to how much he worked. With a body that responded so nicely to his touch, and eyes that just screamed ‘fuck me’ whenever you looked at him. Keeping his hands to himself was going to be impossible, but the look in your eyes told him that you maybe didn’t want him to. 

“How badly do you want them back, cutie?”

#obito uchiha/f!reader #obito x reader #obito smut #obito uchiha smut #obito uchiha x you #obito uchiha x reader #obito uchiha x y/n #naruto x reader #naruto imagines #obito uchiha imagines #modern!au

[sunstaar]

Camellias

Obito Uchiha x gn!Reader

Word Count: 0,7k

Ao3

Summary: Obito is determined to ask you out on a date.

With much-needed confidence in his step, Obito walked down the busy streets of Konohagakure all the way to your apartment complex. In his hand, he was clutching a bouquet of flowers, the many camellias expressing more than what meets the eye at first.

His heart was hammering against his chest, a nervous expression painted on his features. The whole way from the Yamanaka flower shop, he had been gnawing on his lip, almost drawing blood from how harshly he was biting down on it.

Obito desperately hoped that this would go the way he intended it to, and not the way his frequent nightmares predicted.

Right in front of the entry to your apartment complex, Obito came to a stop. His grip on the flower bouquet tightened as he took a deep breath, a feeble attempt at calming himself down.

“You can do this, Obito,” He told himself in a quiet murmur. “You practised this a hundred times in the mirror. You can do this.”

During his climb up the stairs to your floor of the complex, dread began to settle in the pit of Obito’s stomach. What if really rejected him, said no? The mere thought had him almost hurling over, doubt clawing at his throat. Right there and then, he almost stopped to turn around and leave, act like he had never come to confess to you. But in the back of his mind, there was this voice telling him to do it.

So, Obito swallowed his doubts and anxiety, and continued his way to your door. Another deep breath and the Uchiha dared to raise his hand, knocking on the door.

There was no turning back now.

From behind the door, Obito could hear a loud noise, followed by your footsteps moving to answer. He froze in his position, anticipation causing his heartbeat to steadily increase.

With a wide swing, you opened the door, smiling widely at him. “Hey, Obito! What brings you here?”

He could do this.

“I, um, brought y-you something.” Obito said, holding out the bouquet of flowers to you.

Your eyes widened as you spotted the beautiful flower arrangement, a bright array of red,pink, and yellow camellias staring back at you. For a moment, all words seemed lost to you as you took the flowers into your hands, cradling them gingerly.

“Thank you, Obito, they’re beautiful,” You said, your gaze fixated on the flowers. Then, you looked up at the man who gifted them to you. “But … why did you get me flowers? What’s the occasion?”

He had gone over this at least a hundred times in his head, and more than enough times with one of his unwilling friends taking on the role of you. Time and time again, his nerves had got the better of him, his tongue feeling tied. But not today, today he would speak the words of his heart.

In his best attempt to sound casual, he said, “I was wondering if you maybe would like to go out with me sometime? Like on a date?”

You looked at him with surprise shining in your eyes. “A date? You want to go on a date, with me?”

Obito breathed in sharply before he nodded.

The smile tugging at your lips may have stopped his heart for a moment. “Sure. I would love to. Did you have anything specific in mind?”

Obito felt a surge of both relief and excitement going through him. Sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck. He hadn’t anticipated that he would even get this far. “I, uh, there is this new ramen place that just opened. Minato-sensei said it was really good, so maybe you would want to go there with me?”

“Sounds great. I haven’t had a good bowl of ramen in some time.”

He couldn’t keep the grin off of his face. “How about on Sunday? I don’t have any missions left by then. Maybe around 5, I’ll come and pick you up?”

You nodded, your cheeks warm. “Sunday works for me. I’ll trust your judgement, then, Obito,” Fiddling with the flowers in your hands, you took a step back. “Would you like to come in? We could talk some more while I put the flowers in a vase.”

An indescribable sense of happiness washed over Obito as he walked into your cozy apartment. He had truly done it, he had successfully asked you out on a date, and you said yes. In his eyes, the day couldn’t be any better.

#obito uchiha #uchiha obito #uchiha obito x reader #uchiha obito x you #uchiha obito x y/n #obito uchiha x reader #obito uchiha x you #obito uchiha x y/n #obito x you #obito x reader #obito x y/n #some fluff <3

[itjazzbicch]

A Deeper Bond

Pairing: Hokage!Obito Uchiha x Fem Reader

Summary: Continuation of Our Futures:

With the reader helping Obito in the office now that he is hokage, she sees how stressful it can be, taking care of Obito when he has a night to unwind, learning how deeply they feel about each other…

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY! MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!) (Slight swearing, unprotected sex, creampie)

Word Count: 1.1k

“Why hello, Lord fifth,” I’d never get tired of saying those words, popping my head into Obito’s office, halting at the sight of his head laying on the desk.

“You don’t have to be so formal, Y/N,” He mumbled into the desk, clearly tired out from his day.

“But I like saying that,” I skipped in, coming to rub his back and deliver good news, “On a good note, no more paperwork and you have nothing else to take care of for the night.”

“That’s a relief,” He sighed, eye closing with a soft smile while I continued to rub up and down his back.

“I know you’ve had a lot on your plate lately, so how about you come over to my place for dinner and you can relax?”

Sitting up with a bigger smile, it spread to my face too, standing up and stretching:

“Please! I’d could use some good food.”

“And I’ll make that happen,” Kissing his cheek and taking his hand, his cheeks were red just from that, following me eagerly.

We didn’t have a far walk to my home, heading over and I made sure that he laid back on the couch to unwind while I headed to kitchen and prepared his favorite meal.

There wasn’t a second where he wasn’t smiling, sitting at dinner and venting to me about some of his duties as we ate.

I listened with open ears, trying to give him some advice as I did help along him along with Kakashi, who was his advisor.

Once his plate was cleared, I gave him a nice cold drink, sitting back on the couch while I washed the dishes.

“I just want you to know, Y/N. I appreciate you so much,” Obito murmured from the couch, looking back to see he was spacing out a little.

“I’d do anything for you,” I cooed sweetly while drying my hands, noticing that he was in a deep thought and so, heading behind where he was sitting, massaging his shoulders deeply and asking softly, “Something still on your mind?”

He was quiet, not sure what to say, and I wanted him to be in a happy place rather than lost in thought, leaning down to his ear and whispering sweetly:

“If there’s anything I can do, Obito, just tell me.”

Melting back against the couch, he took my hand to guide me around to him, rather bold for a change and sitting me on his thigh.

“Kiss me, again?”

Now it made sense why he was spacing out. He was just nervous to ask. I should’ve expected it considering how we were crossing into a new relationship.

“That’s all you had to say,” I giggled, holding his cheek and resting against his chest as I kissed him.

Instantly, he was even more relaxed, hugging me while our kiss grew more tender, getting lost and body natural flowing over to straddle him.

His legs were shaking from my kisses working down to his neck, squeezing me as I felt his erection against me, grinding slowly against it.

“Hey,” I whispered, making him look to me, assuring there was nothing wrong with his feelings, “Relax. If you want me to take care of that too, I gladly will.”

“I just can’t help it,” He whispered back, gripping harder while my hips kept moving.

“Nothing wrong with that,” Slipping my hand down and palming him, I meant whole heartedly, “I just want to make you happy, Obito.”

“You do, Y/N,” Huffing out his words, I noticed that, screw it, look in his eyes, bear hugging me and kissing me so hungrily and powerfully, “I love you.”

“I love you too-oh!”

Pushing us down to the couch on my back, he was losing control in the best way, a grind of his own so blissful, kisses a bit sloppy but full of love that made me ready for more.

“Let’s go to my room?” I slipped from my tongue, clinging to him as he picked me up nodding, carrying me straight to my bed.

Dropped on the bed, we both started stripping out of our clothes, Obito freezing once I was fully naked, but slowly smiling.

“Come here, baby,” I cooed, taking his hands to feel my skin, offering myself to him, “This is all yours. Do whatever you want to me.”

His hands started roam on their own, unable to help himself and leave kisses all over me, skin meeting with steam as neither of us didn’t want to wait anymore.

“Oh my god,” He gasped, sharing my moan, needing to watch his cock slip into, being so careful and gentle.

He was only feeding so much, watching my reactions, and I tried to help take that nervousness away by pulling his hip towards me some:

“You’re not gonna break me, you know.”

“I know that,” He sighed, but giggling with me, running his face between my breasts, “I just want to take my time with you.”

Before getting the chance to speak, my jaw hung at how full I was, our hips finally meeting and making a lewd moan come out of me.

“Obito-“ I started clinging to him because of how suddenly my body heated up, his head coming back up to mine:

“You like that more?”

“Mhm!” Keeping my legs back further to let him go deeper, my moans started flooding the room as he moved quicker, hitting just the right spot.

“Damn, your moans are beautiful,” Whispering under his breath, he was bottoming me out almost every time, able to handle the speed and keep me moaning through and through.

I didn’t even realize how much of a mess I was, lost in another world for so long till I felt his forehead against mine, hearing muffled pants, peaking to see him nawing his lip.

“You okay?” Holding his head, he nodded frantically, holding the pillow that was resting my head, thrusts growing harder and shaking us.

“I just wanna feel you one more time,” He said quickly before biting his lip again, getting what he wanted with a few more thrusts, building up the pressure in a flash, having my eyes rolling with a cry of his name as the steaming coil of heat in my stomach snapped:

“O-Ooh! Obito!”

“Shit,” His voice grew deep, nearly collapsing onto of me, gasping at the same time when a new heat took over us, feeling it pour inside of me, “Oh shi-“

“It’s okay, Obito. It’s okay,” I stumbled out, this bliss sending me into a sweet spiral that I didn’t mind in the slights, hand roaming to his hip and keeping it pinned to mine, “That was sooo good.”

“Yeah?” He chuckled a little at my tired nod and smile, kissing my cheek, “Only right to make you feel as good as you make me.”

2023 © itjazzbicch — do not repost or translate my work. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome

#Naruto #Naruto fic #Naruto fanfic #naruto fanficiton #naruto smut #naruto oneshot #naruto x reader #Naruto x y/n #Obito Uchiha #Obito Uchiha x reader #obito uchiha x y/n #Obito Uchiha fic #Obito Uchiha fanfic #Obito Uchiha fanfiction #Obito Uchiha smut #Obito Uchiha oneshot #read and enjoy

[pinkrelish]

obito x housewife reader 😳 maybe im just a slut for domestic stuff but just the thought of obito coming home from a long day of work and hugging his wife from behind and starting to trail kisses down her neck which leads to them fucking is just 🤌🤌

Housewife!Reader x Obito

NSFW: afab!reader, smut, use of good girl / bad girl, praise, sending nudes at work, exhibitionism (kinda)

Words: 3.6k

Gearing up for his most important presentation of the year, Obito was spending more and more hours at work. Maybe you got a little lonely in between loads of laundry, and maybe you sent him a photo showing how much you missed him. Right in the middle of his meeting.

From the time you locked eyes with him from across the restaurant; with him wringing his hands at the table, and you entering through the door on your first blind date set up by mutual friends, you knew you would make that man your husband some day.

Even now, ten years later, waking Obito up with a fond smile and watching the way his eyes glistened in the blue dawn caused your heart to leap the same as when you met. Smitten with his sleepy grin deepening his wrinkles, and his disheveled bed head contributing to his handsomeness; rolling into a mighty stretch to wrap his arm around your shoulders, bringing you in to his naked chest for a compulsory hug upon realizing it was a new day and he needed to start it right–showing you love.

You loved him more than anything and proved it day after day.

As his job demanded more from him, you cherished each breath longer. Searing his touch into your skin. Fawning over him like the dutiful housewife you were, because any stress you could relieve from his daily life was crucial to your happiness as a couple. His job was mentally exhausting, but necessary to afford your lifestyle.

You adored your role as housewife to your husband. Doing anything in your power to make him smile before and after work.

However.. as his hours at the office grew longer and longer, you became lonelier and lonelier.. You missed him. His touch. His voice. His time. His passion.

This should be the last day of his long hours, and you wanted to surprise him. Which is why you were in the position you were in now. An absolute squirming mess, grinning in satisfaction at the send button on your phone.

~~~

When Obito opened the door to his house at the end of the quaint street, the familiar senses of home welcomed him into marital bliss. The dinner roasting in the oven broadened his chest with warmth after being stuck in the window-paned cube of recycled stale air all day. The hardwood flooring you picked out together was akin to clouds after shuffling around the slate blue coffee stained carpet for hours, gathering his binders and charts for the presentation that had his nerves frayed on end. The cold countertop and its smoothness gliding under the drag of his fingers; an apt replacement for the table he was at not long ago. Bouncing his leg underneath it, locked away in meeting after meeting where he wasn’t supposed to check his phone. But he did.

Bored out of his mind, he slipped his phone out of his pocket to recheck the time in the brief break between presentations, and oh, did he regret it. He regretted it so wickedly when he double tapped the blank preview of the text popping up on his screen, assuming it was a thoughtful message from you to do well today.

Tap, tap.

He sucked in a breath and sat at the edge of his seat. Spine rigid. Darkening his screen and staring blankly ahead with a face so blazing red it drew his boss’ attention. It was Obito’s turn to present his statistics charts on the data for the second financial quarter, and it was the furthest thing from what ran rampant through his mind.

Indeed, saving his company money was the least of his worries.

“M-May I be excused. Just a moment.” Obito worked his clammy hands into his pockets before rising from his seat at the table, tenting his fingers to create bulk stretched across his trousers as to draw attention away from his unfortunate predicament.

This was the most important meeting of the year, his boss reminded him. A crucial financial quarter that could make or break the company, he said as Obito apologized and stumbled out of the conference room, using his break to the fullest. Focusing not on memorizing his speech, but instead on the image trembling in his hand as he unzipped his pants.

You distracted him on his important day. Embarrassed him in front of his boss.

He didn’t understand. This was so unlike you. You were the type to buy him a new matching shirt and tie for good luck; standing in front of the dresser’s mirror, sweeping your hands over his shoulders. Pausing in the moment to gaze at yourselves in the reflection, caught in the embrace of his loving arms. Rocking side to side as you told him how proud you were to have him as a husband. Blessing him, allowing him to stare into the first semblance of a family he ever truly had. Granting him the ability to grasp the notion of unabashed affection. An idea he never thought he’d attain due to his looks.

From the moment he woke to the time he succumbed to the veil of dreams, he was consumed by you, and he devoured every second of it.

You took care of him so well.

You stroked his ego with the tender touch of a lifelong partner. Going above and beyond to nurture your relationship. Complimenting his new shirt, going on about how it brought out the brown undertones in his hair whilst kissing his unevenly scarred cheek. Serving a piping hot breakfast after pulling out his chair at the dining table like it was nothing. Rising before the sun to ensure his day ran smoothly.

His success was directly attributed to you; his sweet, loyal housewife. Full of girlish grins and poise. Graceful under duress. Spending all your energy keeping the house clean and your husband happy. He was incredibly thankful to have someone appreciate him like you did, so why.. Why did you send this vicious ache below his belt in the middle of the work day?

You tucked endearing love notes into his briefcase for him to discover later when he needed a reminder of the lengths you went to assure he was loved from afar. That’s the type of thoughtful you were. Enveloping him in a hug with pretty words..

Not provoking him into a drooling imbecile when you were well aware he could do nothing to resolve the tension winding in his core. Wearing nothing but a coy smile of mockery at the state you put him in.

His wife who ironed his collars in between putting the finishing touches on the decorative iced carrots atop the little cakes you made for his lunch. Not someone who would set up an angle to capture the perfect way your fingers explored what drove you brazen enough to send unprompted.

His wife who was humming innocently at the kitchen counter mixing lavender food coloring into the frosting for next week’s bite size cakes. Whisking gravy on the stove top for his favorite roasted dinner. Sweeping crumbs into the sink with a flourish of your wrist. Swaying your hips in time with the music in your head, flouncing the hem of the knee length dress you wore, swishing the strings of your apron tied in a bow.

“Is that you my love?” you called out to your husband in a tone suggesting nothing but the usual polite enthusiasm for Obito being home for the night. Not a hint of something more lurking underneath.

Certainly nothing underneath, judging by the jiggle of your soft ass against the fabric and the naked bounce of your unconfined tits when you stirred slices of strawberries into the lemonade you hand squeezed. Knocking ice cubes around the glass pitcher at his sudden embrace.

Obito suppressed all that made him unholy. “A new shirt and tie,” he said, lips favoring your neck as the words he spoke caressed your clavicle in a gentle breeze. “A lunch with two desserts.” His hands formed to your hips in a forthcoming lurch; his grip opposing his innocuous statements, fingers digging in, giving you a preview of what was to come. “My favorite dinner, my favorite dress of yours.. What you sent earlier. What’s gotten into you?”

You reached over your shoulder and ran your nails along his scalp, pressing the strength of your palm into the crown of his head to tuck him into your throat, releasing the most pitiful whine when his teeth skirted over your pulse. “I missed you,” you confessed in a feeble, airy voice.

“I can see that.” Lured into the intoxicating rumble coming from his chest, you went pliant. Obito assumed an imposing, protective stance behind you. Bending his body to yours, shielding you from the open window in your living room facing the street where any neighbor passing by could become an audience to your deed.

“I just like pleasing my husband,” you uttered in a broken gasp. He began sucking on the sensitive flesh under your ear harder. Nipping at you. Flattening you to the counter under the weight of his chest at your back.

“And you do such a good job pleasing him. You’re my good girl.” His grapple on your hips became possessive; taking over your slight, jaw-clenching sway to halt all motion. Keeping you secure. Still. In place. No longer tempting. “So, why then..” You shivered at the gruff edge in his tone. “Did my good girl do such a naughty thing?”

Your hips were pulled back at once. Yanked from the counter and lifted upwards under the guide of his wicked grasp to collide with a sturdy object solidly between your round cheeks. “You’re a bad girl.” He held you when your weak knees gave in to his demeaning whisper. “Teasing your husband when he’s busy at work in front of his peers. Do you think walking around like this all day is pleasurable?”

With two steps, you spread your feet apart. Fully encompassing his clothed hardon begging to be released from the confines of his trousers, tipping your hips to better accept him pressed firmly against the needy outline of what you wanted filled, earning a groan from your husband at the layers of fabric separating you two.

Shameless heat fanned your throat where his ravenous kisses cooled, erupting in goosebumps down your arms. He’d never been this crazed to handle you this way, and what a thrill to be the subject of his needs.

You arched your back under his mighty palms learning the curve of your ass, and he greedily cupped your cheeks to his length. Giving in. Rocking his hips in a stunted motion, craving the pressure around his throbbing head.

“I thought you’d appreciate it,” you put a whine into your pitch. “Have something to look forward to.”

“Oh, I’ve been looking forward to it.”

Delicate silk trailed your bare shoulder. He spared one hand to reluctantly leave your ass, running it up your waist, grazing his fingertips up your bodice to reach for his tie. Loosening it. Draping it over the back of your neck, resting it on your splayed fingers, then covering it and your hand both with his wide palm, curling his fingers over yours.

“I’ve been a little.. pent up, thanks to your stunt.”

You laughed. “I thought you would’ve taken care of yourself at the office.”

“Saved it all for you, baby.” He rocked his hips into you. Hard. Stuttering your shaky exhale at the implication.

Obito locked the stall’s door behind him, turned, and ignored his less than ideal surroundings. The picture filling his phone’s screen deserved his full attention, anyway. He unzipped and sighed.

His problems surged, bulged out of his trouser’s fly. Released. Escaped. Breaking free from the tension holding it in place, his hard cock swelled to its full girth, protruding in the relief he created, tip still tucked under his belt against his stomach.

He delved a hand in and circled his fingers around the taut fabric keeping him contained. Stroking. Pumping himself as his breath went ragged. Slowly. Long tugs and hard squeezes at the base. Slouching against the door, no longer able to hold himself up. Leering at his wife’s dripping wet cunt presented exquisitely on his phone. Bent over with the side of your face pressed to the carpet in your bedroom, surely checking the mirror behind you before smiling so smugly at the camera, a sense of knowing pride in your eyes like you could see him now, with the end of his tie knuckled into his mouth. Attempting to calm himself from reaching in and obeying his twitching cock for his toe-curling prize.

No.

He had to save it for you.

Edge himself to the brink of madness and save the reward for you, his beloved wife.

Obito had his arm wrapped around your waist, utilizing the power of his forearm to bring your hips to him. Recreating the friction from his memory. Long drags of his cock against your ass, rutting into you like a horny teenager.

“I missed you,” you repeated like your text message said accompanying the explicit photo. Echoing yourself in clumsy whispers as you grinded against his cock. Sweaty, hair clinging to your forehead. Panting. Winding his tie in your fist until he protested and you couldn’t resist any longer. You spun in his hold–forcing him back–and went straight for his belt, unbuckling it before he could blink.

Taking advantage of his surprise, you leaned back to angle the head of his cock and your clit together, mercilessly using him to play with yourself. The splotchy stains on his work pants foretold his curbed lust. You cooed over his lack of composure as you worked him with your palm, “Was the photo I sent too arousing?” You pouted your bottom lip, pulled down his zipper. “Couldn’t wait to rush home and have me take care of you.”

True love meant putting others first. Renouncing your needs second, you delayed your climax and began sinking to your knees, staring into his wanton gaze. Waiting for his face to light up in delight at the impending offer for you to swallow his heavy burden.

But he stopped you.

Grabbed you by the shoulders and took your pretty bottom lip between his teeth and commanded you to stand. Employed his power over you to spin you back around, and bent you to his will; over the counter.

At least he was thoughtful enough to turn off the stovetop before the gravy burned and shoved the bowl of frosting out of the way before his lecherous hand scaled your ribs and showed you his expertise after ten years of marriage.

“Bad girl,” he said. “You’ve been too naughty for a quickie like that.”

Skilled fingers delved under your apron. With heightened senses anticipating his punishment, you felt every shift of the ruffled pleats stretched over your bodice as he cupped your breast, taking your hard nipple and squeezing it through your dress. Enough pressure to make you moan, and when he tweaked it again, harder, his heavy groan reverberated in what minute space remained in the sway of your back and his sturdy chest. Breathing harsher the more you squirmed against his lap, stuck between him and the counter top.

“You’ve been waiting for me to come home all day, haven’t you?”

Your answer was cut short–

Obito discovered how needy you were for himself. Smoothing his hand up and around your hip, he ran two fingers down your stomach. Lower. Crooking them when you bit your swollen bottom lip and whined into the cold counter, turned onto your cheek to watch his grin fade to a smirk he had to hide in kisses to your shoulder.

Even with your dress acting as a barrier, he felt–and heard–how enamored you were as he circled his fingers slowly. Quickening his pace when you simultaneously tensed your muscles and relaxed into his hold.

Neither of you would last long, and he knew it.

“Lift your dress, baby.” You obeyed with too much enthusiasm. “Not the front! Just the back.”

“But, Obi..” You clenched your thighs around his fingers, wishing to experience them and their raw ability, not the coarseness of the cotton bunched between your legs.

“Punishment,” he murmured. It was the most he was willing to deny you, even when playing the role of sexually frustrated husband. To refuse you an orgasm was out of question; he was an attentive lover that way. “Are you going to take my cock like a good girl?”

You nodded–hummed ardently at the stubble lining his jaw tickling the bridge of your nose–and widened your stance. He lifted your hips, took a lasting glance at your glistening cunt waiting to be used, and managed to undo the rest of his pants with one hand.

He sucked in a breath at the release. Furthering his frenzy for his cock to meet the fresh air, and then your warmth. Shoving down his underwear and lining himself up, all the while keeping his tempo stroking the hood of your clit.

“You can handle it,” he encouraged after he sank into you a little too fast; not meaning to say the words in a moan, but he was too on edge. The way you struggled to accept him so suddenly–clenching around his cock–it had his heart racing.

Taking it easy, he repositioned himself, doubling over to lay on top of you again. Rocking his hips in a steady rhythm, he explored deeper, and deeper. Pulling back and plunging forth when he couldn’t resist the temptation of your pussy tightening around his tip. Snapping breath after breath from you.

Your panting fogged the cool swirls of marble countertop beside your cheek. Moaning his glorious name as he stretched and filled you. After years of learning each other’s bodies, he performed all the perfect movements to get you gasping whines of warning. Running his thumb back and forth over your nipple. Rewarding your clit in quick, succinct circles. Brushing his cock along that spot that had your knees buckling.

Obito grunted with each thrust. Your cunt was gripping him, making even his shallow pumps too hard to oppose the escalating tension in his core.

Overwhelmed, you tried to dig your fingers into the counter, and when that didn’t work, you sought his hair. Your hold was languid, but you snatched tuftfuls and brought him in for a sloppy kiss, hardly reaching the corner of his open mouth.

“Co-Come on my cock.” It was a beg disguised as permission.

And you didn’t need to be demanded twice. Nothing could persuade you from fucking yourself onto the heel of his hand.

“Thank– Fucking– Mm!” you panted in a stuttering cry. Surrendering to his weight, his control, and his retribution for what you put him through today. Collapsing what strength you kept braced against his desperate pounding; it was all he could do now that your slick cunt dripped. Milking him in wave after wave of orgasm.

In a moment of reassurance, he pulled his hands from gifting you your pleasure, and wrapped one around your fist in his hair. He eased your weak grip and laid your arms in front of you, resting his over top in a loving embrace, nudging his nose to your hair. “I love you.”

You had to giggle at him. Coming home so horny he had to bend you over to fuck you then and there. Window open. Rutting into you like it was life or death; knocking over bottles of spices in the process. And still tending to you first so he could drop his dominant act and confess his love like he did on your third date.

“I love you too, Obi.”

He was done. Finished.

Straining against his quivering thighs depending on you to keep him upright, Obito dragged his hands from holding your wrists and jerked away.

The heat of his body left yours and a stark emptiness confused you. You were about to question why he pulled out, when you heard the tell tale squelchy sounds of him jerking off. His uneven breaths. His fingers bouncing off your plush ass as he reached his already-twitching tip. His erotic whisper of, “Oh, fuck. Like that, babe..”

You rose onto your tiptoes to better show off your pussy for him to stare at and he paid respects to your shamelessness most graciously.

He covered you in his cum. Aiming at your cunt, he bucked into his fist and stumbled, climaxing to his fullest. Coating the entirety of your entrance, your asscheeks. Draining what he kept repressing for days on end as work ramped up. Covering you with more than he imagined; shivering at the sensation of his fingers ghosting over his cock, watching his efforts drip down the back of your thighs.

It was his fantasy come true. Adoring the way he claimed your cunt as his and hearing you thank him in return. You were a flustered mess. Could barely stand in your post-orgasm state, and you still smiled.

“I’m going to send you nudes more often.”

“Do it again and you’ll be begging for me to stop when I get home.”

You liked the sound of that. You liked the smack on your ass he gave you, too, after pulling your dress down and telling you to get cleaned up. “You really think you can last more than once?” Your teasing smile waned to one of wonder when he gave you a look, fixing his tie and buckling his belt.

“After I do the dishes tonight, I’ll show you just how long either of us can last.”

“Oh, what a threat.” You winked and kissed him on the cheek, not missing the way he glanced at the bed and its freshly washed sheets.

“I’ll do the laundry tomorrow, too.”

Taglist: @wind-becomes-lightning @hkzv @royaltywidows @uchihashisuii @hatakebabys @smutteedreams @revefantastique @skeletxncrew @mannyrorona @sharingangirl @theirony-of-choking-on-this-dick @obitos-slut @candyopala @reeplaysvideogames @animepickle7 @mrsbakashi @glass-grapes

#obito x reader #obito #obito uchiha #obito smut #naruto #uchiha obito #obito uchiha x reader #obito x y/n #obito uchiha x y/n #reader insert #x reader #naruto fanfic #naruto smut #naruto fanfiction

[sleepysnk]

a/n: hey guys! sorry for the long wait. i haven’t had much motivation to write for the beach recently, but i had this finished so i am finally updating! it’s hard to believe that the story will be finished soon. i can’t believe it lmao. i hope you guys enjoy and thank you for your patience!

pairings: obito uchiha x fem!reader

warnings: modern au, college au, mentions of anxiety, some angst, mentions of alcohol consumption (?), protective konan (as per usual).

The Beach: Chapter Thirty

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Disoriented.

That’s the only word that felt appropriate at the moment. Hell, it was the only word that could describe how you were feeling. 

When you finally awoke the next morning, you were lost. You weren’t sure as to why you felt so.. anxious? Your stomach felt like it was in knots, and your heart was racing rapidly inside of your chest. However, you had zero recollection of the previous night. You didn’t know why you felt so sick, but it alarmed you. There were so many questions you had asked yourself. How did you get home last night? You had no idea how you ended up in your bed that morning. You were even wearing the same clothes you had left in. Did you get drunk?

You sat up in your bed. The light from the outside was basking into your room, leaving a soft glow to it. You wondered what time it was, but you couldn’t find your cell phone. Deep down, you were hoping that someone didn’t take it or something. 

However, you soon realized that it was in your back pocket. 

Reaching backwards, you pulled out your cell phone. The screen lit up, causing your eyes to squint from the harsh blue light rays. The time on your phone displayed that it was ten o’clock in the morning. You were probably hungover or something. You only really slept in if you drank the previous night, but you wondered what you had to make you blackout like that. Maybe you had some Pink Whitney or some extra shots. What you did know was that you were still very tired.

Though, there was something else that was odd to you on your phone. 

You had an immense amount of notifications. It ranged from missed phone calls to missed text messages. There were even a few voicemails you had, and it confused you. If you were drunk, surely someone made it known that they had taken you home, right? 

Then why the fuck was Konan in those missed messages?

It started to panic you. There were many questions starting to appear inside of your mind. Who took you home last night? How did you get here? What happened after you left the party? It made you feel sick, because you had no answers for any of them. You were certain Konan was at the apartment, so you’d have to ask her what happened. Frankly, you had no idea what was going on here, but you knew you’d have to message all of your friends to ease their worries about you. 

You quickly stood up, heading towards your dresser to change out of the clothes you were wearing. You needed to find something more comfortable, because you were so over the one you had on now. 

You pulled out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. It soon hit you that you still had your makeup on from last night. It made dread rush through you at the realization. You weren’t exactly in the best mood to deal with the possibility of a breakout, so you’d definitely have to clean yourself up once you sorted out this issue with Konan. 

Once you were changed, you opened the door to your bedroom. 

The apartment was quiet, almost too quiet. It made you wonder if Konan was even awake yet. She always had the worst experiences when it came to hangovers. Maybe you’d make her some breakfast and a nice smoothie to make her feel better. After all, she had been dealing with your mess for the last couple of weeks. It’s the least you could do to make up for all of those late night conversations and tear filled evenings she had dealt with. You wondered what she might be in the mood for. Eggs? No, that’s a little too nauseating. Maybe some fruit and some toast would be good. 

You turned the corner and almost jumped out of your skin when you saw Konan sitting at the dining table. She had a cup of coffee in front of her and her phone in her hand. She seemed to be mindlessly scrolling through her apps, because she didn’t notice you at first. 

“Hey..” 

Your voice broke her out of her thoughts. Konan’s eyes left her phone and were placed onto you. You weren’t expecting her reaction, but she suddenly rushed towards you and embraced you into a big hug. “Jesus, (Y/N).. you scared the shit out of me last night.” she sighed with relief, her hands caressing your back smoothly. 

Your arms went to wrap around her waist. You were kind of confused by her reaction, so you figured that you’d ask her about it. “Konan..” you started, “Of course I’m fine, why is everyone so worried about me..? Did I get too wasted last night?”

She then pulled away, her eyebrows knitting together almost immediately. Her facial expression started to worry you. Why did she seem like she was pitying you? “Do you.. not remember? You worried me like crazy last night! I didn’t think he’d be there, but he was!” she replied, placing her hands onto your shoulders. 

The mention of a he made your blood turn cold. It hit you all at once, and the memories from the previous evening suddenly flooded into your brain. You understood it all now. You knew why you felt so anxious when you woke up, and it made you sick knowing that this happened all last night. How could everything go so south within hours? All you wanted to do was have some fun with your friends to get your mind away from the thoughts you had been having the past few days. However, it didn’t seem like anything could go right for you these days. 

You weren’t even sad anymore. If anything, you were more frustrated at the fact that Itachi was back and trying to make a move. You had spent so much time trying to rebuild yourself from what he had done. For him to come and destroy that made you so upset. You could never forget what happened that night he cheated on you. He made you feel so insecure and you practically despised every aspect of yourself. It was hard for you to trust any man who wanted to speak with you on a romantic level. That’s mainly why you chose to make this semester about you and you only. However, things didn’t exactly go your way, and now you were dealing with two different issues. 

Though, Obito wasn’t the biggest problem now. It was Itachi, and you had to figure out what to do with him. 

Your eyes settled on Konan who was genuinely worried about you. She lost you that night and she later found out your ex-boyfriend was there. It made her sick knowing she wasn’t there to intervene. “I remember now..” you muttered, “You have nothing to feel bad about, Konan. I didn’t think he’d be there either, but I’m fine.”

Konan stared at you with disbelief. How could you feel fine with all of that on your plate? Seeing your ex-boyfriend at a party after all he had done must have sent you over the edge. “(Y/N).. please, don’t lie to yourself. I know how much Itachi bothers you and it’s okay to not feel okay with him being around.” she stepped towards you, her eyes seeming serious. 

You let out air through your mouth. All of this didn’t feel real at all. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do. You didn’t know what to feel or how to react to this sudden intrusion in your life. Itachi had been MIA for months since your breakup. Why show up now? You wanted to know, but you could never face him. The thought of his face in front of you made your stomach twist with knots. “I’ll be okay, trust me.” you tried your best to sound confident, but Konan could sense the uneasiness in your tone. 

She was about to respond, but the sound of a knock on the door made her pause. 

Who the hell could be here? 

You and Konan both exchanged glances with one another at the sudden arrival of a stranger. You decided to go towards the door to see who it could possibly be. There was a chance that it could have been Deidara or Sasori. The two were both at the party that previous evening, so maybe they were stopping by to check in on you. You weren’t opposed whatsoever, but they usually gave you both a heads up if they were going to come by. 

Stepping towards the door, you shifted the small metal peephole cover that was on top of the hole. 

Your eyes grew wide when you saw who was behind the door. It wasn’t Deidara, nor was it Sasori. It was actually the exact opposite. The sight of him standing outside your door caused your heartbeat to spike rapidly, and you had no idea what you were supposed to do. Many questions began to surface inside of your mind. How did he know where you lived? Why was he here? What was he going to say? Should you open the door? Fuck! This was going to tear you apart!

“Konan..” you said. “Someone’s here.”

Konan’s eyebrows knitted at your words. She didn’t like the tone of your voice. You sounded worried. She wondered if it was possible that Obito was here. He knew where the two of you resided, so it wouldn’t be much of a shock if he was standing right outside the door. 

Only question was.. who was there?

#the beach #naruto #naruto x reader #naruto x y/n #naruto x you #naruto fanfiction #obito uchiha #obito uchiha x reader #obito uchiha x y/n #obito uchiha x you #obito x reader #obito x y/n #obito x you #obito #anime fanfic #anime fanfiction

[namelessuchiha]

⤐⋙ unrequited ⋘⬷

↳chapter three : stages of grief

( chapter one . chapter two )

warnings: mentions of starvation, depression, and general grief. 18+, eventual nsfw, and suggestive themes mentioned.

━━━━━━━━

Silence wraps its arms around you like an old friend. 

It holds you tightly as though you haven’t seen each other in a while, consuming you with its warmth. Alone in the darkness of your unlit room, your thoughts run wildly in the silence. 

Silence, like an old friend, has much to say. It is the clarity that shines through your mind like a sun's rays of light. But most of all, silence is terribly and utterly dangerous. It causes you to find lost pieces of a puzzle and be able to put them together. 

‘How could I be so stupid and oblivious all of this time?’

Your thoughts filtered through the silence in stages. 

First came the denial.

There was absolutely no way that Obito was in love with Rin. The two of you had been together for four years, you had started building a life together. The two of you had planned for the future, a life-long future together. 

━━━━━━━━

“Hmm…” Obito hummed into your neck. The two of you lay in your king-sized bed, half-naked bodies clinging to each to each other as if being even an inch apart was a crime. “How many kids?”

You opened your eyes quickly, blinking repeatedly. “H-how many… Huh?”

He chuckled, “How many kids do you think you’d like to have?”

“A-ah. I’m not too sure, I’d have to think about it. Shifting your head slightly to look down at Obito’s tousled brown hair, the corners of your lips turning upward. 

“I don’t know how many little Obito’s I’d be able to handle running around this place. Just one is already causing me trouble.” 

Obito quickly untangled himself and propped himself up, beginning to protest with his arms crossed. “Hey! What is that supposed to mean? You need to stop hanging out with Bakashi so much, you’re starting to sound like that idiot.”

You leaned onto your side, propping your elbow up to hold your head in your hand and look at your boyfriend. You giggled softly at his pouting face. “What about you, how many-”

“Two. Maybe three.” He said immediately, cutting you off. “All I know is I’d like to have more than one.”

He closed his eyes, pondering for a moment before continuing to speak. “I’d never want them to feel the loneliness I felt growing up. I’d like them to always have someone they could turn to if they needed it and if we were no longer around.” 

You stared up at him in awe. Biting his lip, he looked down at you before his face broke out in a cherry red colour. “O-of course we’ll get married first before anything, I was just thinking, you don’t have to-”

Raising yourself up quickly, you lightly pressed your lips to the Uchiha’s mouth. Efficiently shutting off his nervous rambling. Your hand slid up to cup his cheek. 

Pulling back, you smiled at him. “I’d love that Obito.” 

Obito's lips curled up into his utterly beautiful smile. The one that had originally magnetized you towards him, before his loud and overwhelming personality consumed you entirely.

You swung your leg over Obito’s, straddling his lap and gripping either hand onto his broad shoulders. “So, what would we name these hypothetical children?”

“Well one of them is going to be named Tobi, with an I, and the other one-”

“Tobi?! What kind of name is that?!”

━━━━━━━━

Secondly came anger. It was loud and rageful. It was bitter. But most of all, it was pure and utter agony.

How could he do this to you? How was this even possible? He had told you himself, every day, just how much he loved you. How much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. How he wanted to start a family together and die old together. How?!

Did he ever even love you at all during these last four years? Or was it all just some ploy to stay close to Rin while she pined and lusted after his best friend, Kakashi?

Your boyfriend, Obito, was in love with your best friend Rin. But if you would've opened your eyes and acknowledged the blatant signs in front of you, maybe you wouldn’t be sitting in your solitude, heartbroken. 

The lingering glances he would hold towards Rin. The light blush that would dust his cheeks whenever she would say the slightest remotely positive thing towards Obito. The way he would center his attention almost solely on her, whenever she entered a room. The way he brought her up daily before you, her best friend, even had the chance to. 

You had blown all of these large and bright red flags off. Because you had loved Obito since the moment you laid eyes on him five years ago. 

Third, came the bargaining. 

‘What did I do wrong? Was it the way I look? The way I act? Did I not show him that I loved him enough?’

It was you who had pushed relentlessly for the four of you to hang out together as a couple. You felt bad leaving Obito alone while you and Rin had girl’s night together. When she and Kakashi finally became an item, you saw it as a golden opportunity. You had elected Tuesdays as your weekly double-date night. 

‘Maybe if I hadn’t pushed them together so frequently, this would have never happened.’

Fourth, came the worst stage of all.

Depression engulfed you like a dark cloud. It felt as if your world was solely in black and white. It was melancholy.  

It left you bedridden for days on end. Wallowing in sorrow. At first, your stomach cried out in hunger. But as the days went on, your body was completely numb. Succumbing to the fact that nothing of nutritional value would be entering your body anytime soon. Your mind followed your body shortly after. You were lethargic when the tears finally stopped flowing for the first time in days. 

Acceptance was not an option for you.

You felt like you had lost everything.

But most of all, you felt like you had lost yourself along the way, too.

━━━━━━━━

↳chapter four : enter obito uchiha

#uchiha obito #obito uchiha #obito uchiha x y/n #obito uchiha x reader #obito uchiha x you #naruto au #naruto fanfiction #naruto #naruto shippuden #obito x you x kakashi #kakashi hatake #kakashi hatake x reader x obito uchiha

[cupajoscafe]

For the headcanon thingy you were talking on Discord: Obito Uchiha being asked to help get something off the higher shelf

Your choice if at home (with s/o) or in a supermarket or smth (with stranger)

-Biscuit

HEHEHEHEH HELLO BISCUIT THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK I HOPE I CAN CHANNEL OBITO WELL ENOUGH FOR YOU AKSIXHSJSJ imma do my best 😤😤💜 I love the idea of him coming to your rescue while at the supermarket so I'm gonna roll with that!! Also: this is an AU where Obito is a good guy and never did Akatsuki things so he can actually enjoy a nice dinner with his honey 🥺

Asking Obito to get something from the top shelf

Most days you liked being blessed with your short genes. Today, unfortunately, was not one of those days.

You were at the supermarket with your partner buying ingredients for a meal you had been planning for a few weeks, and it was a recipe you'd never made before. He had gone off to look for some aromatics for the soup stock while you looked for the main ingredients.

You were in the spice aisle, and you needed the spice off the top shelf. No matter how much you stretched and how high you jumped, you just couldn't reach that one little canister you needed.

With a grumble, you skipped over to the end of the aisle and looked around for Obito.

After about a minute or two, he peered out from around the corner of another isle with the vegetables in his basket. He blinked at you as you waved him down.

"Y/N! What's up? Everything okay?" He spoke as he jogged over to you.

"I need your help." You grabbed his arm and pulled him down into the aisle, then looked up at the top shelf. "Would you mind?"

Obito looked at you, then up at the spice rack, then down at you again. He smiled and snickered, shaking his head a little bit.

"Of all the spices you need, it had to be the one that you can't reach." He reached up and grabbed the canister, then held it out in front of him. "Here ya go."

You smiled up at your partner and took the glass bottle from his hand, then placed it in your basket and beamed up at him.

"Thank you, baby." You giggled, grabbing onto his arm.

"Of course." He replied back with a smile as the two of you made your way to the checkouts.

#jo answers #half-baked-biscuit #naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto imagines #naruto headcanon #naruto headcanons #obito #obito uchiha #uchiha obito #obito x reader #obito uchiha x reader #uchiha obito x reader #obito x y/n #obito uchiha x y/n #uchiha obito x y/n #obito uchiha headcanon #obito uchiha imagines #I HOPE THIS IS OK IM NOT GREAT AT WRITING OBITO BUT I TRIED #my fic

[daddy-suguru]

Hi there~ I'm really curious what your mind can do for him so I will pick

Obito + f!reader "disturbing" his evening reading with a blowjob

Mmm big beefy man, I want him to give me piggy back rides~ and I wonder if he is ticklish. Imagine straddling him and tending himself a laughing and wiggling mess by tickling him

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ▸nsfw, blowjob becomes face fucking, gagging, dacryphilia, his cock bulging in your throat since he is thick

Letting out a heavy groan as you take his cock deep into the back of your throat. Your nose pressing against his dark hair. As his balls press against your chin.

When you try to pull away Obito’s large hand rests on the back of your head, pushing down. As he twists his thick fingers into your hair, not caring that he is messing it up. He guides your head up and down his cock.

Obito sets the book he had been reading aloud to you face down open on the side table. As he stands up and tells you,

“Since you couldn’t wait for it here, choke on it.” Tears are starting to burn your eyes as Obito comes to a pause. With his cock still buried deep in your throat. He smirks as he admires the outline of his cock in your throat.

▸ m.list

#naruto x reader #naruto uchiha #Obito uchiha #obito smut #obito x you #obito x reader #obito uchiha x y/n #obito uchiha x reader #uchiha smut #uchiha obito #uchiha clan #uchiha x reader #obito x y/n #naruto shippuuden

[actuallysaiyan]

Kinktober Day 14: Hair Pulling(Love My Way)

warnings/kinks: dubious consent, slight somnophilia, vaginal fingering, hair pulling, reader is placed under light genjutsu, smuttiness pairings: Obito Uchiha/Tobi x Fem!Reader word count: 1k tag list: @beneathstarryskies, @ricflairdrip20, @witchofcustom, @loki-love, @xailem, @the-eternal-sunflower

You were just meant to be his teammate in the Akatsuki, but Obito found himself becoming so attached to you. From day one, he knew you would possess his every waking thought. He couldn’t find the excuses to pull himself away from you. And as time went on, you became closer to the man you thought was named Tobi. Though he was strange to the others, you found him so endearing. Obito has been filled with lots of conflicting emotions and he realizes he needs to act on them.

One night, he enters your room after you’ve gone to bed. The two of you have just returned from a long mission, and you were completely exhausted when you got back to the Akatsuki hideout. Obito left you to sleep for a bit, but he decided tonight would be the perfect night to see how you might react to his emotions. He slips into the darkness of your room and he moves closer to the bed.

You stir softly, but don’t wake up just yet. Obito is pleased with this. He wants to take his time to admire you. You are truly so beautiful to him. He knows that you might not want to be with someone so ugly as him, but maybe you don’t really have a choice. He settles on the bed beside you, and he gasps softly when he realizes you aren’t wearing anything under the covers. He takes off his gloves and slowly begins caressing your soft skin.

Your eyes flutter open, “T-Tobi?” 

He smirks, “Shhh…it’s okay.”

You whine gently as he slides the covers off of you. You are naked like he suspected, leading you to sleepily try to cover yourself. You’re desperate to keep your dignity intact, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t absolutely adore Tobi. He was becoming the person you could truly count on for anything, and this had developed into a very serious crush on the strange man. 

“Don’t hide from me,” He mumbles softly in the dark. “I want to see you.”

When you don’t remove your arms from his view, he decides to take matters into his own hands. He pries your arms off of you, You squeak at the sudden cool air blowing on your naked body.

“Fuck, you are so beautiful.” You watch as he begins to unbuckle his belt and pull his pants down.

“What are you doing, Tobi?”

With an annoyed groan, Obito puts you under a light genjutsu. Everything feels a little more intense for you right now. Then he slowly pulls off his mask. You gasp at the sight of him. Though he is scarred, he is beautiful. The moonlight coming in through your window shows off his beautiful features to you. You are even more enamored with Tobi now than before.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Obito grunts. He pulls you in closer to him by your hair, making sure not to tug too hard just yet.

You let out a breathy moan, “I have too.”

You two meet in an explosive kiss. His tongue slides into your mouth, and you can taste sake and something sweet coming from him. His hands soothe down your body, taking in the smoothness of your skin. He could easily become addicted to this. He could find himself doing nothing but fucking you all day and night if he’s not careful.

It doesn’t take him long to grab you by the back of your neck, and to maneuver you into a position where you’re on your hands and knees. He grunts when he sees your pretty ass in the air. He spanks you once, gauging your reaction to pain. He is very pleased when he hears you moaning.

“You are such a little slut, aren’t you?”

You whine, “N-no!”

He laughs, spanking you again. Then again and again, making your pretty skin all pink and heated. He loves hearing you moan like this. It’s music to his ears. He knows he’ll have you compliant, and if not, he can send you further into this genjutsu if he needs to.

“Fuck, you are so wet.” He grunts as his fingers slip into you. You let out a moan as he curls them against your sweet spot.

“You make me so wet, Tobi.”

He loves the sound of you like this. It’s so much better than he would have imagined. He begins to pump his fingers in and out of you quickly, and it makes such a sweet squelching sound. His cock throbs as he feels your walls clenching around his fingers.

“So close already, hm?” Obito asks, and when you don’t answer, he tugs on your hair so you’ll pay attention to him.

“Yes! Yes!” You whine, and he spanks your ass again.

“I expect an answer anytime I ask you something.”

That would be the only warning you got on the matter. And you’ll do well to listen to this order. You don’t want to disappoint him at all. He is your senpai after all. Tobi was the one to show you the ropes, and now he was going to fuck you in any way he wants to.

He strips himself of his clothing, knowing he will perform a memory swiping jutsu on you after this. He can continue to use that on you until he is sure he can trust you fully. Then he settles between your thighs and he spreads your ass. He grunts as he sees your pretty little slick all soaked for him.

Your breath is knocked from you as he slams into you suddenly. He grips onto your pretty tresses and he tugs harshly. You can only let out pitiful moans and whimpers as Obito continues to pound you. His fingers tangled in your hair and tugging at the root just adds to all these new sensations. You’ve never been fucked like this before.

“Gonna fuck you every night,” Obito chuckles darkly. “Only you’ll never know about it.”

You can’t even begin to comprehend what he means, but maybe you don’t want to.

All you can seem to focus on is the steady pat-pat-pat of his pelvis slapping against your ass, and the way his cock seems to be so damn deep inside of you. It’s leaving you a breathless and moaning mess, which only serves to turn him on even more.

If this continues, he is surely going to fall in love with you…

#bacon.writes #kinktober 2022 #kinktober day 14 #obito #tobi #obito x you #obito x reader #obito x y/n #obito uchiha x you #obito uchiha x reader #obito uchiha x y/n #tobi x you #tobi x y/n #tobi x reader #akatsuki #akatsuki smut #tobi x fem!reader #obito x fem!reader #obito uchiha x fem!reader #naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto smut

[dumbasssimp]

God i need to get my "i can fix him" mentality under control.

#tag ur pookie bear #obito x y/n #obito uchiha #obito #obito x you #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove #obito x reader #stardew valley shane #stardew shane #shane x reader #shane stardew valley #sdv shane #rick sanchez #rick sanchez x oc #rick sanchez x reader #jesse pinkman x reader #jesse pinkman #toh hunter #hunter toh #the owl house hunter #hunter the golden guard #hunter the owl house #hunter x reader toh #hunter x reader #the golden guard x reader #the golden guard #the walking dead negan #negan x you #negan x reader

[itachislbeloved]

Forced Breeding

"Do you feel that, baby, huh? Do you feel me deep inside you?" he asked as he thrusted deep in you, your face and cheeks red from the heat that your body was radiating. You couldn't answer as his thrusts were too powerful and left you a moaning mess. All you could do was a nod and his hands travelled to your throat, holding it and pressing it slightly, not too hardly. "Words baby, I need words." he put pressure on your throat, "Y-yes, I feel you." you said between your moans and with your eyes closed feeling too good. "Should I breed you, hm, baby? Should I pump you full of my cum? Wouldn't you love that, hm? Wouldn't you love my cum dripping down your pussy?" his words made you open your eyes wide and stare at him in panic. "N-no, don't, please don't." you said as you tried to push him from on top of you but he just chuckled and held both of your hands in his one, "I don't take no for an answer baby, I will breed you and make you mine. You don't have any other choice than just to be bred by me." he said as he thrusted deeper in you and you could feel your tears trickling down your cheeks, you came around his shaft and you could feel hot liquid pour into you, you knew he did it, he came in you when you were not on the pills. "You are mine, baby, only mine to breed." he said as he came into you with a dark chuckle leaving his mouth.

---------------------------------------------------

Itachi, Obito, Madara, Tobirama, Kakashi, Pain, Geto, Sukuna, Gojo, Toji.

(I couldn't think of other characters so please let me know if you think of others.)

(Come on you know Uchihas would love to breed their partners <3)

#anime #fiction #itachi uchiha #madara uchiha #gojo satoru #kakashi hatake #obito uchiha #geto suguru #ryomen sukuna #toji fushiguro #senju tobirama #yandere x y/n #dark yandere #male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x female reader #yandere x female #dark fic #yandere x darling

[sunstaar]

Oh, Brother

Obito Uchiha x gn!sibling!Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warning: mentions of death, violence, gore & corpses; implied Kakashi x gn!Reader

Ao3

Summary: Your brother is dead, the eyes of a madman are staring back at you instead.

Your brother is dead.

With an all-too-familiar pair of orange googles in hand, you stand at his funeral, your own pair of crimson eyes shining bright and pooling with endless tears. They were fixated on the sight before you, watching carefully how the empty coffin, the coffin intended to keep the body of a mere child lost to the war, was lowered into the ground to be buried forever as a crime of war. A headstone would soon join the gruesome sight, a name inscribed that had not yet lived out his story, his storybook barely even begun and cut too short by a sacrifice he should not have been forced to make.

On your shoulder lays a hand of comfort, one belonging to a girl with short brunette hair and a pair of identical purple stripes decorating her tear-stained cheeks. Rin wears a smile that is supposed to be comforting above anything else but falls flat by the way the edges of her lips tug downward, unable to hold themselves up. She too is consumed by the sorrow haunting her, more tears decorating her lashline, threatening to fall at any moment.

From behind the two of you come chocked sobs. They wreck your heart, your grandmother’s pained cries echoing in your mind like a broken record. Her face is buried in her hands to hide the frown she is wearing, a desperate attempt to hold onto her sanity somehow. Her frail shoulders shake with every noise of despair falling from her lips, the weight of losing most of whom she loved a too heavy burden to carry for the elderly woman.

Your brother is dead. It is a fact, one that you cannot change, one you are confronted with every day you walk past his now empty room, the door standing slightly ajar because he always forgot to close it behind himself.

During the whole funeral, there was only one to make no noise. A boy with unruly silver hair stands a good distance away from the grave, or so you noticed immediately. His hitai-ate sits crooked on his forehead, covering what you knew to lay beneath, the Sharingan eye he had received from your brother. Underneath his mask, his lips are twisted into a heavy frown, one that is slightly visible from the outside. He does his best to compose himself and to stand straight at the funeral of the boy he did not manage to save, of the first person he lost on a mission he led.

His single charcoal eye is trained on the girl with a similar build to Obito, on you. 

Your brother is dead and Kakashi feels like it is his fault.

“My nii-san sometimes overestimates himself, can you make sure that he comes back?” With a wide-eyed gaze, not the slightest of hints of a Sharingan in your eyes yet, you had stared up at him, all hopeful. He had never agreed to anything, even as you begged him to do so, worry evident on your features.

Still, he had failed. Instead of returning with your brother, he had returned with your brother’s eye, replacing the one he lost in battle. A pair of goggles dangled in his hands, the glass broken in and bloodied, a solemn expression telling you more than a thousand words.

Your brother is dead. He won’t be coming back.

Kakashi had seen the realization set into your eyes as his blond sensei delivered the news to your anxious form, the hope gleaming in your eyes dying just as your brother had hours before. The moment your suddenly crimson eyes met his own mismatched pair of charcoal and crimson, a shiver ran down his spine. From the distance away, he could see your mouth open to say something, though nothing came out except for a choked noise from the back of your throat.

He turned his head away immediately, the words dying on his tongue. He wasn’t sure what it was that he should do. Should he apologize to you for causing your brother’s death, and tell you how sorry he is? Or would you yell at him, unable to look him in the eyes, in one of Obito’s eyes.

The regret is heavy in Kakashi’s heart, etched forever into the surface of his organ, Obito’s last words to him in his mind replaying in a loop every time he lays eyes on you.

“Make sure that my sibling will be alright.” And so Kakashi promised, he vowed to protect you from everything evil, to keep your heart from breaking as it did the day your older brother died.

Seeing you crying hysterically at Obito’s grave day by day without pause, your breath heavy as you beg for him to come back, to return to you, to tell you that all of this is just a sick joke and that he isn’t dead, the sight pulls at his heartstrings. To see you mourn the loss of your brother so heavily, the fact made him feel guilty, the feeling churning uncomfortably in his stomach.

Obito is gone.

Obito is dead.

Obito would never return to you.

You only ever see Obito again in your darkest nightmares, your deceased brother as the starring figure of your deepest fears.

In your nightmares, his figure appears with the right side of his body completely disfigured, the skin scarred beyond the point of recognition. It is an image your mind had conjured up on its own over time, based on the tale of his heroic sacrifice told you, twisted by the stories making their way around Konoha. When you reach out to touch his skin, your own gently brushing across his scarred, it feels cold, dead. The stench coming along with your vivid imagination is unbearable and allows for bile to crawl up your throat. His corpse, that is what he is to you now, is rotting before your inner eye for years on end, teeth falling apart the moment he opens his mouth to call out to you.

Never does he speak more words than the childhood nickname he always called you affectionately. His hand with every finger sticking into another direction, broken beyond repair, then reaches out to you, the skin practically flaking off with every move he makes into your direction. You take a step back from his figure, his name falling from your lips.

The corpse before you is not your dear brother and would never be. In his eyes lays an intensity he only had when speaking about his three favourite topics: his ironically undying love for Rin, his ambition to become the Hokage, and to one day beat his silver-haired rival. Only in your nightmares, his eyes are a shade of crimson that brings along a metallic taste on your tongue at the sight of the Sharingan swirling in his dead eyes.

Your Obito never did possess the Sharingan past its first stage, he was a boy who yearned to be recognized as part of his own clan. The eyes staring at you in your countless nightmares aren’t your brother’s, but rather the ones of a silver-haired you know.

At one point in your life, the Sharingan you have once seen swirling in Hatake Kakashi’s eye had become synonymous with the eyes Obito could have had. Had he not died so young, that is.

Standing at his grave every day, you have become accustomed to the presence of a certain silver-haired. Sometimes, the two of you exchange friendly small talk, mostly initiated by the man who carries a horrifying amount of guilt in his heart, and exchange stories about your brother. It helps ease the pain, talking to Kakashi about Obito. No longer were you on your own processing the tragedy surrounding your childhood, mourning the boy who both of you had lost too early.

Talking to someone helps you heal, it brings you solace about what could have been and isn’t meant to be. You don’t feel as alone in your struggle anymore, especially after the untimely deaths of Rin and your grandmother, there is still someone by your side, keeping you somewhat sane as your mourning faded into acceptance.

Your brother is dead, and you would never see him achieve his dreams. Never would you see him profess his love to Rin, and either have it be reciprocated or be rejected. He would never have a chance at becoming Hokage or beating Hatake Kakashi at one thing at least.

Or so you had been foolish to think.

Your pain had been all for nothing.

Around you raged the Fourth Shinobi War too many years later, countless lives already sacrificed for the restoration of peace.

Now the same face both you and Kakashi have once mourned daily stood before the two of you as the initiator of said Shinobi War, a mocking smirk playing on his scarred features. If it wasn’t for the hints of a glint in his eyes and the tuff of raven hair sitting atop his head, even you would have trouble recognizing your own flesh and blood. Your brother.

Obito is here.

Obito is alive.

Obito never died.

Instead of returning home to you, returning home to your heartbroken grandma to be a family, he had long ago fallen into a path of darkness, the very same one had always vehemently promised to defy. His features once painted in hope of becoming the Hokage of the very same village he now to bring under his forceful control, those very same features are painted into a harsh scowl, one that reeks of anger.

You feel utterly betrayed.

The only thing keeping you somewhat steady on your feet is the grip Hatake Kakashi has on your shoulder, his hand resting there with a harsh squeeze. It brings you down to earth, out of your spiral of inevitable madness created by the gleam in the eyes of the unrecognizable mad man before you.

You turn your head toward the silver-haired man, looking up at him all wide-eyed, an expression all too similar to the one you had on the faithful day, his expression mirroring your own. His mouth feels dry as he stares at you and as he swallows harshly, he feels the bile crawling up his throat.

His mismatched eyes, ironically enough more familiar than the maniac eyes of your supposed brother, travelled over your features to take them in. And just for a moment, Obito’s betrayal is pushed into the back of his mind, simply forgotten.

Instead, there is just you.

There is the way your brows are drawn into a harsh furrow, almost coming to meet in the middle, and the way your skin glistens from the beads of sweat forming on your forehead. Tears decorate your Sharingan eyes and your lips are twisted into a frown, one he wishes he could wipe off and replace with the smile you always wear when speaking of your brother.

Once, Hatake Kakashi had promised Uchiha Obito to take care of his little sibling.

The day said Uchiha turned out not to be dead at all, Kakashi determined that it was your older brother all along he had to protect you from.

The way you squeeze his shoulder back, a grim smile you managed to muster up staring back at him, that brings Kakashi out of his stare. It is not only he who had been betrayed by the supposed death of Obito, no, more so, it is a fate both of you are forever burdened to share.

It is a burden neither of you had ever chosen to carry.

The moment you meet your dear brother’s gaze you realize that Uchiha Obito is many things. He is a boy who died too many years ago in a war that shouldn’t have been his to fight, and the man that came out of what should have been an honorary death. Above all, however, no matter how this battle turns out, you know that Uchiha Obito is a traitor and never coming back to you.

#obito uchiha #uchiha obito #uchiha #kakashi hatake #hatake kakashi #kakashi hatake x reader #gender neutral reader #hatake kakashi x reader #hatake kakashi x you #kakashi hatake x y/n #kakashi hatake x you #naruto x reader #naruto imagine #obito uchiha x reader #obito uchiha x you #obito uchiha x y/n #uchiha obito x reader #uchiha obito x you #uchiha obito x y/n #sour #traitor #olivia rodrigo

[itjazzbicch]

Our Futures

Pairing: Obito Uchiha x Fem Reader 

First time writing for Obito so I hope I did well! 

Summary: Finally accomplishing his dream of becoming Hokage and having a night of partying with Kakashi and the reader, the reader makes sure he's ready for his big day, gifting him with something special...

(Thought this would be a fun, sweet fic because Obito deserved better 😭)

Warnings:  N/A

Word Count: 1.4k 

"I-I'm g-gonna be H-Hokage, don't you know?!"

"Y/N," Kakashi sighed, helping me take a drunk Obito back home, "I told you taking him out for sake was a bad idea."

"You're a bad idea! Stupid Kakashi," Obito murmured, shooing his arm away and hugging me, "At least Y/N isn't a party pooper."

"Kakashi, you know he's going to be super busy after tomorrow. What will a night of a little partying hurt, huh?"

If anything, I was getting a good laugh out of all of this, keeping my arm around Obito as we were making it to his house.

"It'll make him even later than he already will be tomorrow, I know that much," Kakashi mumbled under his breath, Obito hearing and snapping sloppily:

"You're just jealous that I'm gonna be Hokage and you're not!"

"There's no other shinobi who can take your spot, Obito, alright?" Getting the door open and guiding him inside, I cooed to him softly to calm him, "Now, let's get you a glass of water and into bed. You have a super big day tomorrow."

"Please make sure that he isn't late tomorrow?" Kakashi whispered to me as we watched Obito go to his bedroom, hearing the massive plop of his body crashing into his bed.

"Don't worry, he won't be," I assured, getting a glass of water for Obito, "Even if I have to drag him up there, I will."

"Thank you," Kakashi had faith in me as usual, waving as he was leaving, "Goodnight."

"See you tomorrow," I waved back, glass in hand, and going to find Obito, who was curled in bed, hugging his pillow and snoring away.

After everything we had all seen and experienced throughout our lives, seeing him just a night away from accomplishing his lifelong dream, even if he had been drunk and a bit annoying from it, I'd never been so happy.

Placing the glass down on the nightstand, I covered him up with his blanket carefully, fixing his ruffled hair, and adding a soft kiss to the top of his head:

"Sweet dreams, Lord Hokage."

_____________

"Ugh! The sun," In the kitchen preparing breakfast, I could hear Obito's groans, then a massive thud.

"Obito?!" Thank goodness I had just finished up, rushing into his room to find him on the floor, rubbing his head and groaning with a pout on his face, "Are you alright?"

"How much did I drink last night?" He yawned, taking my hand as I helped him to his feet.

"A lot," I sighed, holding him next to me as he stretched and yawned, guiding him to the couch, "But it's alright. Some water and a good breakfast should help."

"And sleep," Yawning more, he tried to lay down on the couch, which made me shake my head and scold him:

"You officially become Hokage today! You can't go back to sleep."

"Crap! You're right! What time is it?!" He sat up quickly, looking around to try and find the clock, holding his head, obviously dizzy from his hangover.

"Calm down, we still have time," Heading to the kitchen, I brought his breakfast and water, "So, take your time eating. I'll go get your clothes ready."

Smiling tiredly down at his colorful and hearty breakfast, I heard him whisper:

"You're too good to me, Y/N."

There was no fighting the bright smile that popped onto my face, kissing the top of his head before I went off to his room:

"Eat up. I'll be right back."

Not only getting his outfit for the day ready, but I also made his bed and straightened up his bedroom, seeing him come back once he was done eating.

"Your clothes are right here," I patted them on the edge of his bed and handed him a towel, "I'm gonna go do the dishes and when you're done, we'll go."

"It's alright Y/N-"

"Ah! Ah!" I interrupted, playing around as a bopped his nose, "It's your big, special day and I'm making sure it goes perfectly. Now, shower."

He only smiled at me, nodding before he went off to take a shower and I cleaned the kitchen. The timing was perfect, drying my hands as he came out, ready and a lot less hungover than before.

"You ready?" I smiled as I jumped next to him, holding his hand.

His face turned as red as a tomato, stumbling on his word, "B-Born ready-y."

"Let's go then!" Skipping and grabbing the door, this day was already perfect.

Not only was Obito accomplishing his dreams, but he was also the first Uchiha to become Hokage, making our way to the office and everyone who saw us waving and congratulating him. It was amazing how the village acknowledged him.

"What would you know? Obito has finally made it to an important event on time," Kakashi was waiting for us at the door that led to the roof, where the ceremony would begin.

"Shut it, Kakashi. I woke up, had breakfast, and showered all on my own. No hangover or anything!" These two were something else, unable to hold back my giggles as Kakashi already knew:

"I'm sure you fell out of bed, Y/N made you breakfast, and made sure that you showered."

"Ugh, so what? I'm here on time, ain't I?"

"Alright, boys," I giggled, ending their bickering, "The ceremony is about to begin."

"Ready, Obito?" Kakashi got the door, but before Obito could answer, I said quickly:

"You can go ahead, Kakashi. I need a moment with him. Please?"

Obito's eye darted over to me quickly, Kakashi curious but respecting my wishes:

"Don't take too long."

Once Kakashi was out of sight, Obito watched my every move as I went to grab a box, asking shyly:

"What is it, Y/N?"

"There's just something that I want you to have before you go out there," I smiled brightly, presenting the box to him as he stared at it, "Open it."

Carefully, he opened the box, gasping softly at the sight of the Uchiha crest, taking the soft, white fabric to see his very own Hokage robe, flames at the bottom to honor our sensei too.

"I made it myself," I smiled, beyond happy with his reaction, completely in awe while he put it on.

"You did?!" Moving all around to look at it, he was in love, smiling, "This is incredible!"

"I want you to know how proud I am of you, Obito," I said more softly, setting the box aside to hug him, arms wrapped around his neck and cooing, "I know you're going to be the best Hokage this village has ever seen. I don't care what anyone thinks or says. I just know it."

"Thank you," He whispered, arms squeezing around me as he admitted, "I wouldn't have gotten this far without you."

"Oh nonsense," Picking up my head to meet his gaze, I caressed the scarred side of his face softly, "You never give up, even after all the hard things you've faced, never giving in or giving up is what got you here."

His eye started to gloss over, growing teary-eyed, only wanted to make the day as special as I could by reaching into my satchel and taking his hand, placing the old goggles that he had as a kid in his hand.

"Y-You've had these?"

"Yeah, ever since that day," I whispered, fighting some tears of my own while recalling that horrible memory, "But I always thought you were so adorable when you wore those, and that it would show how far you've come."

All he could do was hug me, tighter than ever and I swore that I could feel the happiness between us, giving him one last gift by tilting his chin so he'd face me, kissing him softly. Time froze around us, lips tender, but pressing a little harder before I had to let him go:

"It's your time to shine, Obito. They're all waiting for you."

"R-Right," My kiss obviously flustered him, giggling quietly as his back turned and slapped himself, mumbling, "Get it together, Obito."

Heading up the stairs, the Uchiha crest and red flames facing me, I knew that this was a beginning of an era, one that we once thought that we could only dream of, but as Obito's head turned to me, flashing his smiled that I loved, I knew that our futures were bright and never again would I have to worry about him not being there to see it. 

#naruto #naruto imagine #naruto fanfiction #naruto fanfic #naruto fic #naruto fluff #obito uchiha #obito uchiha x reader #obito uchiha x y/n #obito uchiha imagine #obito uchiha fanfiction #obito uchiha fanfic #obito uchiha fic #obito uchiha fluff #read and enjoy

[pinkrelish]

The White Wolf of the Woods

💌 Mail Carrier!Reader x Obito!Lives AU 💌

Chapter Summary: Obito's life did not prepare him for the nuances of flirting, but that did not matter. He still denied himself the pleasure of succumbing to his desires. You deserved better than some lonely exile like him. When he pressed his knee into yours under the table while having dinner, he convinced himself it was nonchalant, despite his racing heart. When he had you wrapped in his arms, it was to teach you a cooking lesson. When he almost kissed you on the couch on movie night--twice--it was an accident.

At least, that's what he told himself, even as you let it slip you were seeing someone else, and the jealousy he felt was anything but appropriate for a friend.

Chapter: 3/4

Words: 21k

Read: AO3 / FFnet

Chapter 3: Autumn

You weren’t the most observant person. Not the best at puzzles. Not the greatest discerner when it came to those “spot the difference” hidden image books as a kid, but even you could tell the picture on the seed packet staked into the soil wasn’t quite what was growing in front of you. “Can you come here?”

The top half of Obito’s face peeked from over a bushel of wide floppy leaves one row over. His hair was dusted in golden pollen from the yellow flowers shaking under the stress of his blade as he sawed through the stem of a summer squash. “Is it another spider?”

“You’ll find one in your bed tonight if you keep it up.”

Grunting, he pushed himself to his feet and came around to your side. He crouched to your level, and in doing so, placed himself peering over your shoulder; to where his frustrated exhale hit your cheek and his knee was a pleasant pressure on the small of your back.

The corner of Obito’s mouth sloped into his usual frown and it was all you could do to not learn each intricate curve of the scars engraved into his cheek when he leaned forward and plucked the laminated paper from the garden bed, mulling over the large, orange, spherical pumpkins in the photo, and the measly, flat, sickly white one fitting into the palm of your hand.

“There must’ve been a mix up with the seeds at the store,” he sighed. “All that work to grow that little thing.”

“I think it’s cute. It’ll be the perfect decoration for the table, don’t you think?”

He agreed, but remained unswayed. “I wanted the big pumpkins though.”

“How come? Either way they’re not edible, right?”

He readied himself to correct you on their edibility, but he clammed up. He couldn’t explain why he wanted them. Couldn’t explain why he encountered difficulties recovering his composure when he discovered your proximity, biting his tongue when your nose came into focus after almost colliding with it. Couldn’t get a hold of his emotions long enough to stop his staring. Couldn’t help himself from diverting his attention from your eyes, to your nose, to your plump, precious grin.

“They make good jack-o-lanterns,” you filled in where he left off, in the beckoning space between your mouths. Snapping him out of his intrigue and severing his blatant wonderment at the softness of your lips.

“That’s an activity for children.” He was back to his usual self.

“Maybe, yeah. But if it’s one you never got to do as a kid and wanted to do it now, that’s okay too.”

Heat crawled up his throat under your rapt surveillance. “I-I forgot my knife. Over there.” Expelling a flustered swear, he dropped the marker and shook his head, returning to the row he was working on and nearly flattening himself to the dirt to escape your view, mumbling something about caterpillars on the spinach again. Providing you the perfect opportunity to tuck the picture of the pumpkin into your notebook for later.

Once you harvested the rest of the ripe vegetables without a single word exchanged, Obito hoisted the woven basket onto his hip and opened the door for you, placing the bounty on the countertop beside the sink while you laid out his old towel to dry off the produce after he washed it. The tattered towel had been demoted for causes like since you replaced it with a new set last week.

You tried your best not to fall into the trap of watching his capable hands work the brush across the russet potatoes, turning the water earthly brown with the same organic matter outlining his manicured fingernails, but, lost in your admiration, you dried the same eggplant over, and over again. His nails were kept short. Practical. Water dripped down his muscular forearms, flowing over his veins as he inspected the tomatoes; appreciating the effort it took to create life from scratch, like you appreciated the steady rise and fall of his chest as your breaths synced.

Visit by visit you grew closer, and with the first bloom of friendship, you lost yourself to his unintentional charm. A fact you stopped denying three weeks ago when you attempted to hold his hand and he did not refuse you any longer.

Disrupting him in the middle of rinsing a cucumber, you caught sight of the time and gasped. “I should get going!” He looked at the clock too, schooling the pinch between his brows.

“Already?”

“Sorry,” you said, rolling down the sleeves of your cardigan, “but I’ll be back for dinner.”

Pulling himself from scrutinizing the time, Obito ran his wet, calloused palm over the back of his neck and kept his gaze down. He passed a sweeping glance over the vegetables left to clean and shifted his weight, turning to you slowly. Stalling as if he needed to prepare himself. Leaning back on the counter, crossing his arms, observing you from under his heavy brows only when you were about to leave.

“Did you eat lunch yet?” he blurted out.

You shrugged. “I had a protein bar.”

“Protein bars are not a meal,” he scolded; a deep rasp present in his voice matching the irked creases on his forehead. “Give me a second.”

Quick like it was routine, he grabbed ingredients from the fridge. Lecturing you at each swipe of the butterknife across the bread, spreading mayonnaise. Folding the ham slices in the precise fashion he knew you preferred. “That’s nowhere near enough nutrition for your level of activity. You really need to take better care of yourself. What about those recipes I gave you for simple meals to make on the weekends so you had easy food to microwave in the breakroom before coming here? And what about those snacks I sent you home with? Don’t tell me you ate those for dinner–” He smashed the sandwich closed and handed it to you. “Why are you smiling like that?”

Smirking wider, you accepted your free lunch and made a swift backwards exit out his kitchen door. “You see, if I did all those things, I wouldn’t be able to keep tricking you into making me a sandwich. Bye, sucker.”

“You’re insufferable,” he muttered to himself, trudging to the front window of his cabin to glare at you. And wave goodbye. Because you always turned around to wave at him right as you reached the bend in his driveway. It felt like bad luck if you didn’t.

“Bye,” he mouthed, watching your lips form the word too as you waved the sandwich at him with an all-too-wry grin at his defeated face in the window. His expression could be taken as him being jaded at your antics, but with the high sunbeams and low shadows of his deteriorating porch roof obscuring him, his features subdued to something much more forlorn when you escaped his view.

Obito walked back to the kitchen. Passing by your knick-knacks, your chair at his table, your framed decor, your calendar. He picked the rooster themed kitchen towel off the floor and wrung the damp fabric between his fingers. Twisting it and twisting it.

This is how it should be. This is what he knew would happen when he suggested you come here less often, seeing him a few times a week when your schedule allowed. It was better this way. Establishing a healthier work-life balance to ensure you had more energy for yourself.

But..

The clock’s minute hand ticked far too soon for you to be leaving. You looked at the time and departed before he was ready. Cutting the days shorter and shorter, magnifying the hours between stays longer and longer.

This is how it should be, but..

The slow withdrawal of your attention devoured his thoughts in the overbearing absence of your presence in his house. Inciting a craving like no other to keep you there when he should not. Wanting you to take up space in his cabin with all the seconds you could spare, but not knowing how to be so blunt in asking for this favor when it was clear you had other–better–things to do.

“Is this my punishment?” he asked the ceiling at complete opposites with himself from months ago. “I can’t have one thing go my way?”

~~~

You opened the door to your apartment and immediately considered its worth as a shield, scurrying behind it and daring to spy a single glimpse at the shadowy creature within, and his glowing eyes of immeasurable disappointment aimed in your direction.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” you apologized to him, ”today was an Obito day.”

Approaching the hurdle seated on your sofa with a bowed head and clasped hands, you addressed your unamused orange tabby cat with utmost respect. At his cranky command, you sprinkled a few extra kibble in his nearly-full bowl and offered him a mouse toy stuffed with catnip.

“I’ll be with Obito tonight, too, so you won’t see me for a while.” Your heart raced hearing yourself say it out loud. Speaking a not-date into existence.

Surely, it wasn’t a date when it had become so regular. People didn’t call what you’ve been doing “dates”, right? Temporarily living with someone as their caregiver, then making it a point to eat at least one meal with them every few days since.

It was practical. You were hungry. And it was.. nice to spend an evening not alone in your apartment.

He staggered on his three legs and batted the mouse for you to toss, which you obliged. He chased it down the hallway amongst mounds of dirty laundry and precariously stacked magazines. “Maybe I should clean up before I go..” you said, just as a crash sounded from the bathroom and he came trotting out with a face displaying pure innocence despite the tube of lip gloss rolling behind him.

~~~

“I can’t believe you made me do all the cooking when you’re this good.”

“I’m not that much better than you. I follow the recipe.. and don’t burn things.”

“But look how thin you’re slicing the bell pepper!”

Obito looked at the red pepper he was cutting for the stir fry and compared it to the green one you were mangling, for lack of a better word. Throughout your stay over the summer your dishes improved in quality and flavor, but one thing was consistent: your bad habits. Having never learned proper techniques, your work was inefficient and unsightly at best.

About to correct you, he debated the best way to phrase his remarks without letting his exasperation slip through in regards to you being a grown adult in dire need of basic kitchen skills. However, his animosity dissipated the second your face appeared around his bicep. Situating your chin in the crook of his elbow to watch his amateur method; honed over two decades of wandering the earth utterly alone with no other options than to fend for himself, and all it took was one woman’s curiosity to make his confidence crumble.

The knife in his hand trembled. Any ill feelings towards you escaped in the faint breath he held watching your eyelashes flutter as you examined the placement of his suddenly inept fingers losing their grip on the slick vegetable peel.

“If-If you could–uh–back up,” Obito pleaded, swallowing thickly when you gave him a questioning glance.

Years he spent training dignity into his body. Grace, eloquence, charisma. All to undertake the name of a shinobi greater than himself: Madara.

Years forgotten in the turn of a clock and a dwindling facade. Regret, impatience, a sense of loss. Obito crumbled witnessing your friendly resolve contort to an aura of dejection. Shrinking away from him and going back to your pepper with an unreadable expression.

He knew why your change in demeanor bothered him, and for once, he didn’t loathe his intrinsic urge to soothe you. The words, “I’ll show you,” tumbled from his clumsy mouth, and the simultaneous sparks of understanding–of picturing exactly what he meant by his proposition–stunned you both. You stood still replaying the scene like a movie. He blushed darker, and darker still, realizing what he said.

Obito moved behind you. Standing in a way you didn’t have to look each other in the eye. This was preferable. At your back, he inched closer, to where your skin tickled from his shirt touching yours. Inching more; dragging his knitted socks along the sides of your feet, broaching the idea of his hips meeting your spine. His arms enveloped you, tilting his head to see over your shoulder while his hands found your wrists. Curving his chest to take you into his hold the same as his fingers fit themselves over yours. Discovering every ridge, every wrinkle, every soft tissue under the joints, every harsh scar winding down his pallid white skin. Thrilled to be embarking on an adventure unsuitable for mere acquaintances. Instead of admiring the rise and fall of his chest from afar, you were the cause of it. Swallowed into him whole. Becoming aware of the nervous pounding in his rib cage, huddled against the secret of his body bending to yours.

“Pinch the blade between your thumb and index. Lighter.” Under his guide, he slid your thumb into place. Your forefinger followed his lead. You lessened your grip as instructed. Made the mistake of turning your head, seeking his approval.. It had been so long since you had come to know the vulnerability of a man’s throat.

Obito never knew the enlightenment of a woman’s head resting on the crook of his neck, thus revealing an excruciating ache to keep you there until he was no more. Exposing a vicious yearning in his soul that would not rest until he succeeded, and the desire to do so struck him so candidly, water sprang to his eyes. He did not explain the surfacing emotions away, for you did not ask him to. Understanding the hitch in his breath like you understood your needs were the same as his. Melding into the comfort of his arms to nurture your shared interests.

“And my other hand?” you prompted him from his thoughts, sending your words to graze the edge of his jaw with a momentous degree of gentleness.

“Right,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper. He flipped the pepper so it was skin side down and clawed your fingers out of harm’s way. “It’s easier to cut this way.” Working as one, he steered your hands, ordering the pepper into neat slices while his lips were parted in concentration, gifting you with soft exhales brushing past the baby hairs curled around your ear.

All too soon, you moved on to the onion, the garlic, and the chicken. Separating when necessary to wash your hands, but joining again when the distance became too unbearable. Asking him to show you how to dice things as finely as he did, and never paying attention long enough to learn. He articulated the lesson in a thorough manner, but your gaze was elsewhere. Prioritizing the way his mouth moved over whatever he was saying.

“Where did you learn to cook?” you unintentionally interrupted him.

The shrug he gave enclosed you for a blissful, prolonged moment. “I’ve been alone most of my life, even as a kid. I taught myself through trial and error.” From the corner of your eye, you saw him staring at his white hand. “Even when I didn’t need to eat, sometimes it was nice to have something to do.”

“Did you have other hobbies before we met?”

Before we met. Like it was a significant event in both your lives where they changed for the better.

You liked the sound of it. Before we met. He liked it as well.

“No,” he answered, “and now you keep me busy enough I don’t have the time.” He gave another wry grin to stave off your hunger for a true smile.

Coming to terms with the fact the pale pink strips of chicken had been sitting on the cutting board for a length of time neither of you would address–considering it would be admitting how long Obito continued to hold you without reason–he stepped away from you and adjusted the burner on the stove. Distracting himself with the skillet, giving you the grace to fan your face and reign in your thoughts about your favorite customer.

~~~

While the chef himself put the finishing touches on dinner, you set the table and pulled out his chair for him as he walked the skillet over. He made your plate. You filled the water glasses. When he reached over for another helping of chicken and bumped your knee under the table, it had advanced from an accident. Over the days it became habitual. A subconscious decision to a solid choice. This was it. This was the routine. Having dinner with Obito in comfortable silence. A nice silence; broken by hums of enjoyment, compliments, and the occasional question. Awkward at first, like it always was, but as you fixed your eyes on your plates, and focused on anything besides the scorching embrace minutes ago, you settled into the new ordinary together.

His leg relaxed against yours. No longer did he jerk away. No longer did he check your reaction and jolt. He kept it there. Unlike the first few anxious meals together–full of nervous sweating and vapid musings–you maintained your heart rate, and he maintained his position.

“So, how did you get all this furniture up here anyway?” you asked. You learned a while ago to approach topics with care. Obito lived a vastly different life from you and finding common things to discuss was difficult. Of course, he didn’t shy away from his past, but relating to you when it came to anything beyond the last two years usually ended with him clearing his throat and picking at his callouses as he meandered his way through a dreadful sentence.

His life was hapless, but you were happy to be sitting next to him. You said, “I hope you don’t expect me to haul you a new mattress up this mountain.”

“Most of what’s here was from the last owner.” He wiped the corner of his mouth on his sleeve, surveying the barren den. “I didn’t need much else delivered besides the washing machine–which Kakashi brought himself. But.. I have been thinking of ordering a few things.”

“Very light weight things, I hope.”

He cocked his head at your frightful stare and waved you off like you owned all the muscle in the world. “A small side table to put at the end of the couch for a lamp or something. And maybe a coffee table.” It was obvious he was covering his mild enthusiasm, squirming in his seat and checking your face. “That’s it. Is that too much?”

“I’ll bring you anything you ask for.”

And you meant that. Truly. You’d make it happen.. Within reason.

Avoiding your reverent eye contact, Obito pushed his chopsticks around his plate. Wrestling his inner turmoil to the point of bouncing his knee against your outer thigh. “I apologize if I came off as rude earlier. You’ve far exceeded what was expected of you since we met. You cooked for me. Cleaned for me. Dedicated your time to taking care of me over the summer. Your food was amazing. Delicious, even, and I needed it. So what if you didn’t know how to cut an onion. That doesn’t make you any less competent-”

“Obito?” He looked up from his muttering, hosting a pitiful frown tugging at his scared lip. “You didn’t say anything like that out loud..” You narrowed your eyes. “Were you thinking it?”

“I.. Maybe.” Knotting his fingers on the table brought them closer to yours resting around your drinking glass. “What I’m trying to say is I appreciated you cooking for me when I was..” Tapping your knuckles on the back of his hand caused his jaw to flex in the dim light coming from the kitchen. “Earlier I was also thinking about how much you improved. I mean it, and I should’ve led with that instead.”

What an interesting man you’ve made him into. His past wasn’t alleged, but seeing him in his current state, the juxtaposition was great.

“Aw, am I melting your little heart, Obi?”

Oh, what a wicked spell you cast on him. Adding a wink to your teasing grin. Adding a wink to his name, cutting it short. Though, the raw sincerity in his praise turned you into the flustered one. “Maybe you are.” A truth neither of you were equipped to deal with at present.

Quickly shoving the rest of the cold food in your mouth and pushing back from the table with a loud screech from your chair, you rushed to excuse yourself. “I should get going. Dai needs his dinner, too.”

“D–?” Obito froze. You moved around him; picking up your plates, putting on your shoes, pulling on your sweater and untucking your hair from the collar. Still, he sat at the table. Blank faced. Processing. Motionless in the stark reality of you saying someone else’s name.

“My route is busy tomorrow, so I won’t be able to stop by the store and pick out a side table until Monday. Is that okay?” Maybe he nodded. You were already turning in the doorway to wave at him. “Bye, Obi!” You giggled at the nickname and disappeared beyond the small porch light.

Dai needs his dinner, too.

Dai needs his dinner, too.

Dai.. His.

“Who’s Dai?” Obito mumbled in the direction of your empty chair.

~~~

Monday couldn’t come soon enough.

After a grueling weekend of overtime with your coworkers helping sort packages following a mishap at the distribution center, you were more than grateful to have a quick route of only letter mail in the morning and the afternoon off.

Walking the streets of downtown Konoha, you adjusted Obito’s unassembled side table under your arm, and slowed your pace in awe to gander up at the municipal workers stringing orange lanterns across the cozy shop’s walkway. A banner above you whipped in the wind, welcoming all to the upcoming celebration. The alleys were decked with twinkly lights and hung charms spouting good fortune for the turn of season. You hadn’t attended a festival in years, and upon remembering them, your brain filled in the blank space of going alone. Coloring in a visual of someone standing next to you with his haori’s sleeve draped over your linked hands.

Sighing wistfully, you veered onto a side street towards Obito’s cabin, ready to give him the first thing he rightfully asked you for.

Rather, you dragged yourself up the mountainside to dump a burden into his outstretched arms.

“You’re really just going to sit there and watch?” Obito gestured to the many slabs of wood circling where he sat on the floor in front of the fireplace.

“I’m tired.” To prove so, you yawned and slouched further into the recesses of the couch, pouting extra hard the longer he adorned his face with a bored expression. You prodded his shoulder with your toe. “Don’t you have an extra blanket and pillow? I seem to remember bringing them a few weeks ago..”

It was a simple request expelled in a compelling lilt, Obito knew that. An ordinary ask between friends. An implication. An expectation. A desire to rest your eyes. Perhaps you had taken naps in many homes, but this was an intimacy foreign to him. No one had ever found peace and comfort and safety at his side long enough to nap.

“You want to sleep on my couch?” he repeated with a heaviness in his tone. An infinite depth in his intense stare.

Your voice escaped in a feathery exhale, “If that’s alright.”

It must’ve been alright with the way he jumped up and slid to his doorway in his socks. Yanking open the dresser, testing the strength of the last remaining handle. He was quick to return, but it wasn’t until you laid your head down, and he averted his gaze, did you realize it was his pillow. Not the extra you bought. His one pillow. From his bed. His pillow. You’d recognize the scent anywhere.

Cuddling the fuzzy blanket to your chin, you thanked him. “It’s been a long couple of days.” Your explanation was sealed with an abating, drowsy will to keep your eyes open. Blinking up at him standing in the middle of the room; an unsure sway in his stance, of which you consoled by nuzzling into the pillow like he did that one day at the end of summer.

The conflict in his eyes subsided. “Get some rest.”

~~~

Obito did his best to quiet his nerves. Wincing when he dropped a single screw. Gritting his teeth when he had to hammer a nail into place. Whipping around to check you were still asleep after he knocked his knee on a sharp corner and let loose a curse. He did his best to smother his unrighteous indulgences, and yet, as he completed another step on the instructions by sliding the drawer into place and thus finishing the project, he grew aware he was leaning against the couch again. Far from the first time he found himself magnetically drawn to your presence. Lord knows he felt the tug in his heart from the very first time you met. But this? What he was doing while you were asleep? He shouldn’t.. It was wrong. You were taken.. Unless he misheard.

Dai? Die? Dye? You could’ve said a different sentence entirely.

At least, that’s what he told himself when he thought about you having someone to go home to. To wake up to.

He tried to suffocate the ripple of envy, convincing himself in some twisted sense of joy that you chose to spend your half-day with him, which meant you valued him more than whoever you were seeing. If you were seeing someone.

Regardless, Obito felt like a king when he sidled up to the couch, pressed himself firmly against the side, and rested his temple on your exposed forearm. His eyelashes grazed just above your wrist, neighbors to your hand. And when your fingers curled–maybe on instinct, maybe seeking another to complete their circle–he became the champion of the gentleness of your palm. Beholding the demure brush of his jaw along the heel of your hand. Drowning in his impulses. Stopping once his lips reached your thumb.

Enraptured, he listened for your dreamlike inhales. Your faint exhales on the back of his neck.

Accepting his fate as a tempted man, he achieved his need for physical touch, and left it at that. A fleeting caress while you were sleeping. You weren’t even touching him–he was touching you–but it was a semblance of what he could have had if he were born of a different fate. If he had led the honorable existence you deserved; and if you were undoubtedly single, this is what he could have had. If he were brave enough to ask and receive.

Even so, with the little skin contact he earned, his worries relaxed into thoughts of optimism.

Even so, he sighed into your palm and tore himself from his longing before he had a lapse in judgment and discovered just how considerate your fingers were cupping his cheek.

Even so, with his back turned, he did not bear witness to your eyes screwed closed, steeling yourself against the yearn to smooth down his hair from tickling your arm. He did not see the slight twitch of your forefinger in the direction of his nape. Did not notice the sympathy in your eyes, nor your poor performance of pretending to wake right then.

You stirred into a sitting position and awed over the finished side table. “Oh, nice! It’ll look good next to the couch. Not too out of place with the other wood furniture.” You tried to sound as natural as possible, but with Obito’s shyness under your observance, and your urge to rub the spot on your arm where the heat from his cheek was dissipating, the air in the room changed from amiable to awkward.

Still, you smiled through the adversity taking your heart hostage, aching with a need to gather him in your arms and tell him it was okay to want to be held. 

“It’s–yeah–it’s fine there,” Obito said, finally, standing back while you walked the side table next to the armrest where he usually sat, facing the blank wall next to the fireplace; you’d caught him more than once sitting there alone in the dark with a mug of cold coffee in his hand.

That reminded you. “Your coffee table will be next, I think.” You tapped your chin. “Just need to find one I can carry.”

“You don’t have to go through the trouble..” He was already wringing his arm. “The side table is big enough, my coffee can go there,” he mumbled his way through another meek excuse to evade your generosity.

“Stop acting like a bother,” you bulldozed over his self-doubt. “I can start looking for one today while I’m out shopping. Dai didn’t like the salmon I bought him, so it’s back to the canned chicken, I guess.” You snorted and gave an elaborate shrug after letting go of the doorframe to slip on your shoes, opening the front door to bright red roses blooming between the gaps in the porch railing. “I tried to spoil him with the fancy stuff, and that’s what I get.”

You turned to wave goodbye and caught the tail end of Obito rearranging his face from an expression so glum it caused your stomach to clench. You couldn’t understand what was wrong, so you assumed the worst: you were too harsh on him earlier, using a curt tone when telling him to stop calling himself a bother. Yes, that must’ve been what soured his feelings.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, but you should know..” you started. His interest was piqued. Obito was visibly hanging onto your every word, leaning towards you with a greediness in his undivided, unwavering, blatant attention. It was all-consuming, and flattering to be fully engrossed by him. “You’re not a burden. Never have been, never will be. Whatever you need, I’ll get it.”

“I know.” He jerked his chin at his voice cracking.

“Do you, I wonder?” Throwing on your hat, out you went. To your life. To your city. To your grocery store. To your familiar faces on your way home. To your bed. To your.. someone.

Leaving him alone. Alone in his cabin that was only cozy when you helped warm it. Alone with his thoughts when you waved right before the bend in his driveway and ducked under the branch of yellowing leaves blocking his line of sight.

It was all but confirmed. You have someone waiting for you at home. Maybe?

Obito hung his head and released a frustrated growl through the tightness in his throat. With his hands covering his face, he groaned, “I’m so fucked.”

~~~

Sitting across from Obito at his dining table, you flipped through the hardback cookbook you ordered a few days ago in preparation to plan out dinners for the week. It had become a frequent occurrence that you’d pick out a meal and were missing exactly one ingredient, so you suggested having an afternoon where you sat together and made a list to take to the grocery store because whoever writes these recipes really thinks the average person has ungrated nutmeg and four different cheeses on hand–

However, Obito was once again vying for your input before you could read another line of the page you were on.

“Should we choose one from here?” Obito’s large hand encroached your peripheral as he slid the infantalyzing Cookbook for Singles towards you. You gave him nary a glance, much less a chance of consideration. You returned your nose to the book you already had open in an attempt to re-read the same sentence for the third time.

“Don’t you think we can handle something more advanced?”

He hesitated. “Is it not still.. relevant?”

“Uh, I mean, those recipes are a little too simple in that one, don’t you think? Here, why don’t you pick out one of the other magazines I got from the bookstore. They were expensive. And use more than just salt and pepper as seasoning.”

Running his fingers over the trenches of scars on his forearm, cheeks red with shame, he conceded and put the cookbook away, choosing to unwrap a magazine sealed in plastic to bury his woes in. Mind too unfocused to realize it was upside down until you got up to leave–early–and teased him about it.

~~~

It took you a week, but you were proud of the coffee table you found. You brought it to Obito almost in one piece, leaning the tabletop against the porch banister, handing him the legs and screws from your mail bag. You expected him to appreciate the furniture, yet he seemed less than enthused; lips thinned into a grimace whereas the corners of his eyes were crinkled with disappointment.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, standing near the steps. He was across from you idling in the doorway, fiddling with his sleeve cuff, gaze drifting anywhere except at you. You waited for him to respond to your question, but he continued his indecisive movements. Obito had been in a strange mood lately, and this was no exception.

Patiently, you raised your eyebrows and gave him room to sort out his thoughts. Etching the image of him rubbing his hand over the back of his neck and squeezing his nape into your mind palace, along with the subtle flex of his chest under his gray t-shirt as he struggled to speak, yet remained silent. There was a question in his eyes, but he refused to ask it. You knew him well enough to understand that much.

In fact, you knew his tendencies as well as your own. You were also awfully cognizant of the fact you had trouble voicing the things on your mind as of late when it came to the man who graduated from modest daydreams to obsessive cyclical notions of more. He was never not who you were thinking about when the girls in the breakroom were talking about dates and crushes. Stammering nonsense when your coworkers asked about your mysterious customer at the end of your route who took all your free time. If they knew the truth, that you were serving Obito Uchiha, they would faint. You quite liked the idea of that.

He was so silly, not telling you what was worrying him, just like you were silly bottling these feelings and locking them away. There was no reason to deny what you’ve known for months, but you couldn’t confess. The fear of rejection, of ruining his progress, of muddying his trust, halted you. You had to suppress yourself until it was clear he was ready to hear them. Until he made the first move. A real move. Like asking you on a date. Or outright kissing you. Something neither of you could misinterpret.

To preserve what you had, you would wait until he made a move. If he ever made a move.

“Dai’s appointment is at 2 o’clock, so I should-”

“Should get going,” he finished, a bitter sadness in his tone. He didn’t say it in a spiteful way, but the host of emotions overtaking his speech were difficult to parse. A certain hardness to his words cutting you like stone, then a soft exhale of apology in his sagging shoulders.

“I’m sorry.” You twisted the strap of your mail bag. “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise. With a big surprise!” Excitement rushed in your veins as you remembered what day it was, knowing your week of coordination behind his back would soon pay off.

“A surprise?”

“A big surprise,” you said, holding your arms out wide, roughly the size of a large gourd. He did not get it. But, whatever was distressing him lessened its strength, allowing him to step onto the planks of his porch to see you off. Walking into the dappled light, if only briefly.

You said, “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”

And he questioned, “Early?”

“Early,” you replied, not giving him any more clues.

It was hard leaving him there, but if you wanted to make Daidai’s neutering appointment on time and finish your coworker’s route to ensure you scored his day off tomorrow in exchange for him doing your route, you needed to say goodbye to Obito.

It was never easy. You supposed at one point it might have been, but not anymore. Not for a long time has it been easy to walk the bend in his driveway aware you wouldn’t see him until the sun rose again.

~~~

The jean jacket you hugged around yourself was a poor replacement for your bed. It hardly stopped your teeth from clacking, or your frosty breath from showing. It did not warm the crisp air stinging your lungs, nor did it provide shelter from the bits of hay floating in the wind. You were up bright and early, as promised, waiting for the Autumn Festival to open.

Dai’s surgery went well and was spending most of the day recovering at the vet’s office. He was in good hands, though, that didn’t stop you from tossing and turning the entire night, no matter how much he scratched you when you hustled him into a carrier.

And yet, your fatigue was forgotten the moment a man dressed in a jonin vest got one word deep into his speech about the history of the festival. You were off! Sprinting for the older woman’s booth at the front and skidding to a halt, wrapping your arms around the biggest pumpkin available. So large your fingers could not touch when you strained to lift it. Others must’ve spotted it last night as well, for they too scrambled from their spots at the beginning of the street and raced for your pumpkin, but you defended your territory, baring your teeth at anyone who dared reach for it.

“I’ll take this one!” you exclaimed at the baffled woman behind the cash register, raising your chin high and mighty against the adults around you muttering about your score and how their precious children deserved it more.

~~~

Shocked awake in a cold sweat, Obito acted on instinct. He threw off his covers and ran to the front yard in a state of disarray, ripping the door open so hard it slammed against the wall and swung on its hinges. He tripped. A twig snagged his pajama pants. One of his house shoes was left on the porch step like a princess’ glass slipper, the other was lost to a pile of crunchy orange leaves he barreled through as he yelled a heroic “I’m here!” after your first cry for help.

“What’s wrong?” Heart in his throat, he looked you over in a panic, jumping his gaze from one body part to another until he reached your dirty loafers and found nothing out of the ordinary. Once more for good measure, he visually assessed you for injuries, pausing at certain points–his favorite points–lauding the special way your lips lifted in a scoff. Observing your windswept hair and experiencing the rush of want in his muscles, reaching forward to brush the loose strands from your face, wishing to replace the breeze with his fingers combing gently through it.

He’d only been near you for seconds, and already his convictions were forgotten.

“Are you going to take this stupid thing or keep gawking at me?”

Confused, he panned down to the object pressed into his stomach and spoke with all the airy mystification of a child receiving an unprompted gift. “A pumpkin?” It was a gasp of awe. “You bought me a pumpkin.”

“Hurry,” you pleaded, fingers squeaking on the rind as it slipped from your hands, not seeing his were outstretched in the first place.

Obito whispered relief between his teeth at the divine intervention of a pumpkin of all things stopping him from acting the fool. Instead of your head cradled to his chest as his ridiculous mind ought to do, he held the pumpkin tighter to his middle than necessary, grasping at your fleeting body heat sinking through the long sleeves of the thin shirt he slept in.

“Phew!” You shook out your arms and patted the gourd he had a death grip on, sending a swell of vibrations to his core while you amused yourself at the hollow smacking sound it made. You glanced up at him for his reaction. The joy was shared, even if he didn’t smile; he was sure to highlight the ardency in his wide eyes when he regarded you, so there was no doubt your gift went underappreciated.

It was the least he could do. It was the most he could do.

You smoothed your hand along the grooves of the pumpkin, committing to the accidental clasp of your palm over the back of his fingers. Investing in an intimate touch he longed for. “It’s the exact variety you wanted to grow for carving.”

“You didn’t–This is too much–and–you don’t have one–” His denials came as they usually did, as a cumbersome and mopey spew of minimizing his feelings. You were being tender with him again. Valuing him. Showering him in more affection than he’d experienced in a lifetime combined. You were too sweet to him, especially considering the sinful themes of his daydreams keeping him awake last night. Someone like him did not deserve your gentleness.

“Just accept it and invite me inside, Obito.”

Not for the first time, he shut up and listened to you. Followed your lead. Embraced the impressive pumpkin and watched you unfold newspapers from your mailbag with numb fingers, bending over to where he could catch a glimpse under your jacket and see you were wearing a cable knit sweater with your standard pantyhose and tight skirt. He was beginning to wonder if you owned any other clothes, even as he changed into his standard navy blue cotton pants and white t-shirt himself.

“Were you working today?”

“Nope,” you said, snapping your fingers as something occurred to you, and heading to the kitchen to gather a random assortment of knives for him to carve with. “Got the entire day off. I’m yours.”

As casual as you made it sound–I’m yours–it was anything but when you set up his place at the end of the coffee table and made eye contact for what was meant to be a passing second.

Tension was held in the slight tic of his eyebrow. His parted lips. An impalpable whisper confining his tongue. An unspeakable luxury.

You were his for the day.

Obito failed to speak, so you supplied a distraction from your coy choice of words. “There’s no way I could’ve carried another pumpkin with me, so I’m gonna write letters to my friends back in Iwa.” You sat at the other end of the table and shook out your mail bag, dumping your stationary around you. Rolls of washi tape bounced, stickers sprinkled like snow, an assortment of lovely cards spilled from the table to the floor, and pens clattered wherever there was room left.

“I’ll start a fire for us,” he said.

Us.

You were his for the day.

~~~

Time passed in crackling logs and glowing embers tumbling to the stone hearth. In folded paper and seeds plunked onto a baking tray. Of black ink and stringy orange pulp smeared onto palms. Laughter and quiet. Noise and reflection. Mindlessness and thoughtfulness. It crept in introducing parts of one another’s past. In shins brushing under the table. In feet touching through pantyhose and socks. Time revealed itself in the culmination of hours spent agonizing over silly crushes.

Time crawled as Obito wiggled the knife into the same shape he’d been cutting out since he started. Eyes trained above the stem of the pumpkin, watching you lick envelope seals, press them closed, and add them to the top of the growing pile.

“It’s not like growing up as a civilian was always awful,” you said, carrying on the conversation. “Iwa’s Shinobi Academy was giant, and we attended a class of fifteen people near the back entrance to help protect us. Avoiding bullies really brought us together. Most of us worked in the government buildings downtown, so we were able to stay in touch everyday. Between my school friends and my post office friends, we made our own little close knit family. A lot of us became roommates after being emancipated from our families. But,” –you tapped the pink gel pen on your bottom lip– “that did make the dating pool incredibly small. We all ended up swapping spit with each other at some point. Oh–!”

Jealousy stung the pit of Obito’s stomach, inadvertently causing his hand to act on instinct.

A branch popped in the fire, lighting the scarred half of his face in haunting shadows, illuminating an unsettling glint in his heavy-lidded gaze. He extracted the knife from the Jack-o-Lantern’s eye socket. Pulling rind and guts. Dragging seeds out like macabre bugs to litter the newspaper on the coffee table. Triangle eye cutout on the tip of his kitchen knife like a head on a spike.

And as menacing as he appeared to others, you laughed.

“I didn’t date any of the people I’m writing to,” you teased, thinking his reaction was in jest, ignorant to the true resentment influencing his foul mood. “It’s not my thing to keep in touch with past flings, anyway. I like the present, and the future, much better. You know that.” He did. But he liked hearing you say it more. Your affirmations helped settle the beast within him. Tame him. Charm him into complying. Enticing him to unfold his legs so you could stretch yours out at the first nudge of your heel on his knee. Placing your legs in between his like you belonged there, as if his feet on either side of your thighs would protect you from harm.

“I take it you didn’t meet your Prince Charming?”

“Nope. Just a bunch of frogs.” You intended it to be a joke, but of course his mouth kept it’s tight line, turned down at the corners despite his best effort to keep his bad temper at bay.

“What’s it like.. dating in Iwa?”

You waffled, holding your hand out flat and rocking it back and forth. “As bad as Konoha, I imagine.”

Obito noticed your pause and glanced up at you, hearing your expectation for him to agree, but he shook his head and gave a small shrug, returning to his carving. Using his white hair and black eyelashes to shield the dullness in his eyes. “Do I strike you as the type of man who dates?” Even saying the word had his heart pounding in his ears, muffling your response which he sorely required to quell his anxiety.

“Are you?” you ventured.

“Kind of hard for someone like me to do that.” It was an easy answer. One he could physically, and practically, dismiss with a flash of his knife at his exiled life in a cabin in the woods on top of a mountain. A default response that gave nothing else away. Not his longing, not his hurt, not his raging grudge against anyone who had the pleasure of having you in their arms and taking it for granted.

“Do you have any interest in dating?”

“It’s not something I ever considered for myself.” To keep his mind busy, Obito slapped his palm on the pumpkin head to steady it and drove the knife into the stenciled gap-toothed smile, sawing at the jagged edges. But in the midst of getting out his frustrations, he missed the sudden way your face fell.

“Dating strangers sucks,” you said to fill the silence. “I got stood up a lot, even when it was my friends trying to set me up with someone they knew. It was just as awkward if they showed up, regardless. You’d think meeting someone for the first time would lend to talking about literally anything, but I rarely felt a connection with them. They were so boring; I’d rather be sitting at home watching TV.” Twiddling your pen in your fingers, you sighed at the miserable memories. “I’ve had long term relationships in the past, but the dating part wasn’t all it lived up to be. Maybe I watch too many romcoms, but I think it’s much more romantic to be friends first. Fall in love slowly. Deeply. Settle down with one another without realizing it, like it was the next natural step of the relationship.”

Your grin was one of godlike loveliness, and Obito fumed from across the table, unable to read your mind if the twinkle in your eye was attributed to the card in your hand decorated with glittery butterflies, or if it was for him? Or if it was for him?

Even now, Obito couldn’t do it. Couldn’t get the words out. Who’s Dai? Is he your boyfriend? Do you go home to him every night? Do you share a bed? Are you in love with him?

Clutching onto what little hope he had left, he worded his question innocuous enough to deny what he really wanted to know, “Have you made friends since moving to Konoha?” A friend like him. Or Dai. Someone you could.. see yourself with..

“I think so.”

He twisted the knife deeper, deeper into the heart of the pumpkin. Juices weeping like blood over his blade. Staring straight ahead and clenching his jaw due to what you did to him.

Under the table you were shaking your foot. He had the same nervous habit, but with how you were positioned, the movement rubbed his inner thigh. A spot no one else had touched except for him. A high, dangerous spot near the crease of his pants. Sensitive, so sensitive it had his nerves praising each quick graze. Stimulating a stir of motives he had trouble ignoring.

To save himself further embarrassment, he cleared his throat and suggested you start lunch, feigning interest in finishing his carving before getting up from the table and tiptoeing down the hall to the bathroom only once he heard you slicing radishes in the kitchen.

And it was as you placed the finished salad on the table, he returned to the den with flushed cheeks, sitting next to you like any other day. Except, today was different. Today you were his, and you had another treat in store.

“Can I come over Saturday night?”

“At this point you could show up unannounced and I wouldn’t throw you out.”

“Good! Be sure to wear your gray sweatshirt and sweatpants.”

~~~

Eager children pushed their way up cobbled streets, dashing from one game stall to the next, burlap sacks stuffed with candy bouncing on their hip, eyes shining under their masks from the festive lanterns hung above bales of hay. Spindly trees with gnarled fingers stole the moon, clinging onto the last of their brown leaves fluttering in the pitch black night. Somewhere, in a deep forest, a single hollowed pumpkin’s ghoulish face flared from the waxy candle in its mouth, acting as a beacon for the companionless girl roving the sylvan domain, and once she found her way inside the Home of the Lonely, the shuttered windows flickered with life.

“See! Now we match!” You spun in an unnecessary circle to show off your gray set of sweatshirt and sweatpants with the stripe down the side and logo embroidered on the chest just like his.

Obito was about as unamused as ever. “You bought the same clothes as me. Great.”

“We look cute together,” you baited him, laying your hints on thick by holding out your arm along his so he could see the stripes were the exact shade of blue and everything, as if it weren’t obvious. But to you, it was simply a ploy to be near him. To touch him through the layers of fabric. To play into your height difference, giggling at his dark eyes feasting on how you were dressed.

“They look better on you.”

“Wow. An actual compliment. This truly is a special occasion. I might just faint.” You put your hand on your forehead and tipped backwards, earning a groan from him at your antics.

“I’ve never seen you in casual clothes,” he said. “It’s different.. You look nice.” Maybe your glee was too obvious, clasping your hands to your face and cooing over him. He unintentionally copied you at first, bringing his hand to his cheek, unaware he was running his fingers over his scars while fixing his gaze on your hair. You wore it styled down for the first time, and when he detected he was staring again, he failed to eliminate his stutter. “S-So, why did you want to come over so late?”

You offered him a pitying, snarky titter. An evil cackle. A devious twirl on your foot and brandishing of your night of entertainment in your hands. On a dime, you stopped spinning, reached into your mailbag, and deadpanned, “We’re celebrating.” 

He squinted at the thin plastic packages. “Movies?” He scanned the array of titles you fanned in your left hand, lifting his features in an impressed way at your selection. “Horror movies.”

“I didn’t know what you preferred, so I brought some slashers, some thrillers, a true crime documentary or two, and uh..” you trailed off, grabbing a few more from your bag, sheepishly avoiding eye contact at the pretty pink cases next to the black and red ones. “Some romcoms. You know, in case you get scared or whatever and want to watch something lighthearted before bed.”

“Uh-huh.”

You didn’t need to see him to know he was suspicious. “Anyway! Do you drink?”

Obito took the six pack from your right hand, then another, then a third, wondering what else your bottomless bag could hold. “It’s been years since I’ve drank, but the better question is how are we going to watch any of these? In case you weren’t aware, I was denied a TV, so my house isn’t up to date on state of the art technology.”

“Would you stop bringing that up,” you muttered. “Pardon me for not carrying an entire TV up a thousand stairs. I have my projector with me. Now, go make yourself useful and put the beer in the fridge while I set it up.”

Smirking to himself, he did as you told him. Besides, he needed the break. The time to open the freezer and let the artificial icy air compete with the heat on his throat. Cooling his skin, and his mind. He needed to keep a level head for this night to go smoothly. Gray sweatpants were not forgiving when he let his thoughts wander.

Carrying one of the six packs, he rounded the corner to the den at the exact moment you bent over to adjust the device on the coffee table, rocking your hips side to side as you lined up a white image on the wall in front of his spot on the couch.

Obito set the drinks on the side table and immediately opened one.

This would be a long night.

“Okay! Let’s pick the movies.” You clapped and gestured for him to sit on the couch with you. Digging through your mailbag, you found the rest of the DVDs and began reciting the synopsis on the back to him, snickering at the bad grammar on the B-movies, and waggling your eyebrows at the half naked ladies on the covers. Eventually Obito relaxed his hunched posture; unfolding his arms from his lap to help flip through the collection, musing about how when he was kid the only movies he saw were in theaters on the rare occasion he could afford it. He didn’t realize how convenient they were to watch nowadays.

“This one, I guess?”

You ‘ooh’ed. “Night Terrors III. That’s a good one. And how about one from this pile over here?”

“The romantic comedy pile,” he supplied, giving you a hard stare.

“Like I said, it’s to lighten the mood in case it gets too scary.”

“You mean to watch before you walk home alone in the dark.”

“No!” you huffed.

“Then–if you’re not afraid–pick whatever’s on top and we’ll watch that first.”

“First?” Your voice was but the squeak of a mouse. It was quite late and you only planned to watch two or three movies at most. A nail-biting horror, then an upbeat romantic comedy to make you laugh and soothe the paranoia before walking out into a creepy forest at the witching hour. Horror, then comedy. That’s the order you always watched them in. You supposed you could do comedy, horror, comedy–but then Dai might worry when you came home late.

“Unless..” His breath tickled your hair standing on end. “You’re too scared.”

Obito couldn’t be serious, teasing you like this. With Night Terrors III’s egregious run time, it had to be horror, then comedy, that’s all you had time for.

You made up your mind.

The horror DVDs in your lap slid to the floor and the stack of comedies tumbled into the projector as you scrambled for it with the Night Terrors III disc in your hand, intent on playing it first.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Obito laughed–maybe even smiled–when he grabbed the back of your sweatshirt and pulled you to the couch. But his sudden bout of silliness was knocked from him. He misjudged his strength and tugged you too hard. Again.

Your feet slipped from under you and a blur of gray rose to your face. You latched onto the solid object breaking your fall and slowly drew your gaze upwards: over the dizzying rise and fall of the embroidered logo, the divided tan and white column of a neck, observing a cheek marred with pinkened scar tissue peppered with grains of freshly shaved stubble, and a set of persuasive lips waiting for you to notice them. Obito sighed what oxygen was in his lungs, and you watched him do it, just as he watched you inhale the smallest gasp.

Intoxicating heart beats surged under your flattened palms. You squirmed to relieve the pain of his hip prodding your waist, serving only to bring you closer. He had you draped over him, using his body to break your fall, but his presence did not subdue the heady rush of excitement turning your world upside down.

His lips were most definitely trembling. You witnessed their every tic. Every motion of his tongue wetting them. Their dull shine, for which you had the remedy.

“Sorry–” He struggled to speak, voice quiet like a suppressed secret.

“It’s okay,” you said, shaking your head an imperceptible amount. It took all your strength to command your gaze up, away from his lips, to his eyes. His eyes. Oh, his ravenous eyes; devouring you the indecent way a friend shouldn’t. Fanning flames in places it shouldn’t. Clenching your thighs when it shouldn’t.

But, God, was it exhilarating being ravished by him.

With his arm pinned between you and the couch, you felt the flex of his bicep drawing you in. Fingers of steel letting go of your top to spread over your shoulder blades. Traveling the length of your spine to the curve of your lower back with purpose. With courage. A blissful endeavor.

“We can watch the slasher first,” he whispered, and you experienced every vowel, every constant, every wistful letter; the vibrations, the hums, the pauses. He could order you to do anything and you would comply.

He was powerful, he was strong, and he made you weak.

“No, no,” you soothed him. “We’ll watch the comedy first.”

You meant for your next move to be consoling, if not a bit flirtatious. You rubbed his chest back and forth in an arc from pec to pec, batting your eyelashes, glancing down at his lips and lingering there. The motion was intended to convey an absolute avalanche of hints, but instead of reading between the lines, he added a quick, “If you’re sure,” and stopped exploring your body before he entered the territory of more than friends.

Maybe Obito was the least observant man on the planet. Or he wasn’t ready. Or he was inexperienced. Or he was nervous. Or he wasn’t all that into you. He was difficult to read, especially when he coughed into his fist and ran his palm over his thigh as if your compromising position was something to be ashamed of.

Alas, you ducked under his arm and followed suit, finding your own section of the couch to dominate. Took your first breath not solely comprised of the minty scent of his toothpaste and reached past him to grab a beer for yourself.

This would be a long night.

Audibly swallowing, he began to say, “Really, we can watch Terrible Nights or whatever–”

“Shut up.” He shut up. “We’ll watch It Happened One Winter.”

Sitting an appropriate distance apart for casual acquaintances, you put the disc in and forced yourself to sink into the cushions after pressing play. The speakers funneled tinny music over the opening credits, suspending your stilted conversation in lieu of the title screen. The air of nonchalance you both emitted was apparent–sipping on your beers, heads facing forward, eyes strictly on the actress blotting her running mascara–but the separation between your bodies was a grievous error. Wide enough for two hands to fit.

Dust motes drifted past the projector’s beam of light. Around you, the den was illuminated by the story of a woman arguing with her boyfriend, of her not being treated right so she left their apartment in tears and bumped into an attractive stranger on the street, and his coffee bumped into her new coat. Soon, he would offer to pay for a replacement and she–frazzled from her boyfriend’s degrading words–would offer to buy him a new coffee. They would both laugh off the blundering first impression and agree to go inside the coffee shop and thus begin the start of their relationship. You knew the plot well, having watched this film hundreds of times when you lived alone in Iwa. Obito, however, was thoroughly engaged.

The scene transitioned from bright city lights to a quaint cafe for the actors to sell their witty banter while the man gathered napkins to dry off her coat. Obito leaned forward and rested his beer can on his knee; his other hand gripped the armrest, running his thumbnail over the fabric. His eyebrows were tucked in concentration, absorbed in the fictional couple’s first meeting. Wringing his mouth when the male lead touched the woman's hand from across the table and her inner monologue revealed how tender it was in comparison to her boyfriend’s.

“Does that actually happen?” he blurted, pointing at the screen.

“Does what happen?”

“Her leaving her boyfriend for the guy she just met. That’s where this is going, right? Does that happen in real life? Breaking up to pursue someone else?”

You shrugged, hoping to alleviate his bizarre hounding. “Sure. It happens. Sometimes you don’t realize how unhappy you are in a relationship until someone else shows you. She ruined his suit too, but instead of getting mad like her boyfriend would, he understood it was a mistake. He’s kind, and patient, and clearly in love with her from the start. See, he’s putting his arm around the back of her chair and giving her that lovey-dovey look you give someone when you feel the spark. That’s a clear sign he’s interested in her, but is respecting her boundaries. It’s very romantic.”

“In conclusion, she’s willing to leave her boyfriend–who she shares an apartment with–for this stranger because she feels a romantic connection.”

“Yes.”

“So, he has a chance with her.”

“Yes.”

“She’s leaving her boyfriend because she likes the other guy better.”

“Yes, Obito.”

“Okay,” he grunted and downed the rest of his beer, getting another for himself and cracking open the tab for yours before handing it over.

For the first time in weeks, he could relax.

Empathetic music swelled during the messy break up scene, then the mood shifted to smooth jazz once the couple reunited and the woman confessed her feelings. You repeated the lines quietly to yourself, whispering words of grandeur to no one. But Obito listened. He watched. He learned.

The couple arrived at her apartment door and Obito was captivated. The camera closed in and they tilted their heads. On the couch, he did the same. He leaned his head to the side, as did you. The movie went quiet, only the sound of their moans when, at last, they kissed. He heard you sigh, but he couldn’t look away. Not when the woman invited the man inside and Obito discovered another thing he was unfamiliar with.

Most people would find watching sex scenes together awkward, but not Obito. He was enamored. Viewing it like research. Fascinated by the actor’s ability to undress another person with ease, unhooking her bra like it was nothing and tossing it to the floor along with her blouse. Noticing where the man put his hands and what sort of response it gave. Following where he decided to put his mouth on her and storing the information for later, if needed. He may never get the chance to use it, but he could dream.

“You look like you’re watching a nature documentary!”

Obito whipped around and glared. Your hand was clasped over your mouth, trying your best to cover your snort, but it was futile. The more his face turned sour, the more you doubled over with another round of belly laughs.

“Whatever,” he moped, rousing a hiccup from you as you reigned in control over your mouth and what came out of it.

“Sorry,” you said, positioning yourself to where you faced him, bringing your knee onto the couch. “You’re so adorable, I couldn’t help it.”

He knocked his knee into yours. “Sounds like a strange way to admit you enjoy teasing me.”

“So you can read between the lines.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” you answered. You stood up to go to the bathroom, pointing out you were leaving him so he could watch the rest of the sex scene in private, provoking him with a sly, knowing smile, to which he sneered.

~~~

You frowned at the bathroom mirror above the sink. Boring into your own image. Picturing what he saw. What he didn’t see.

Running your hand through your hair, it was still cold on your scalp from where it sat on your thigh, fingers open and palm towards the ceiling in hopes of being noticed. You left it there, overt and obvious, for an embarrassing amount of time, but it remained overlooked in favor of the picture-perfect romance happening before his eyes.

Maybe he saw your desperation and politely ignored it to save you the humiliation. Maybe he didn’t think your hand needed to be completed by another.

“Or maybe,” you spoke aloud to your hand, “he’s just an idiot.”

You blew out a long breath and leaned over the sink. Willing positivity to flow in and fight the negativity bringing down your night. Invoking the alcohol to quiet your thoughts about you being the one who could not take a hint.. “He did say this looked better on me.” You pulled at the cuffs of your sweatshirt and stepped back to truly appreciate the compliment. When he said it earlier, it came out of his mouth so swiftly, you babbled whatever came to mind first to dispel his sudden affability. But you had to admit, seeing yourself dressed down out of work clothes had a special sort of allure to it. Perhaps more so to him, who had never seen you this way; the way you would be dressed if this were a normal day and you two lived together. “He said I looked nice.” And you did. He thought so.

Accepting your fate, you finished freshening yourself up with a swipe of his chapstick across your lips, and left the bathroom in time to recognize the ending credits music.

“Ah, perfect,” he goaded you from across the room, holding something in his hand. “I was about to play this and didn’t want you to miss a second of it.”

“Great.”

Obito took the initiative to put the disc in this time, ensuring there were no tricks up your sleeve to play another sappy movie. The tray on the projector closed and haunting ambient noise rolled out like a fog over the room. You perched on the edge of the couch and wiped your clammy hands on your sweatpants. A vivid green forest played on the cabin wall; its cheerful colors in dissonance with the eerie chords.

“Relax.”

You flicked your gaze to the owner of the voice and could do anything but relax. Obito had sat forward to get a better look at you, his elbows on his knees and chin in his palm, eyes half closed from booze. He looked.. sweet. Not smiling, but nearly. So sweet. Until he opened his mouth again.

“Unless you want me to shut it off because you’re too scared.”

“I’m not scared,” you said and heeded his annoying advice by relaxing your tense muscles. He turned the volume up a notch on the projector and flopped on the couch, and like the oaf he was, he brought you with him.

The gap was no longer between your two bodies. It was defeated. Vanquished by Obito, who sat closer to the seam of the cushion separating you, causing you to dip towards his weight. You slanted until you were fully supported by him, the length of his body cozied to yours. The roundness of his shoulder at your cheek. His strong upper thigh bracing under the impact of your hand accidentally landing there.

His heart skipped a beat, but yours more than made up for it, hammering a sweltering flush to your skin. You let go of him and sputtered a lightning fast apology, praying you could save the rest of your dignity by wiggling into a better position, but it was useless. No matter how much you squirmed, you would eventually come to rely on him to keep you upright, slouching until you were curled into him, with his arm and leg too close to call this anything other than what it was. Cuddling.

Your hints were working. You had to believe your hints were working. You needed your hints to be working, because if this was an inebriated accident, you’d never recover from the tragedy of embracing him from afar.

~~~

Thirteen minutes into the runtime and you were making your second excuse to leave the room.

“Do we need more beer? I’ll get us more beer.”

“Remember to turn off the kitchen light this time.”

You grumbled choice words and flipped the switch, shuffling into the jet black den with a fresh six pack. You settled into your spot on the couch and swore he sat unfathomably closer. His legs were spread as well, taking up the space you depended on to not fall prey to your inclinations. Annoying.

~~~

By complete happenstance, you needed to wash melted chocolate off your fingers from the candy bar you ate. The blood-chilling, heart-racing suspenseful plucky violin strings playing as the murderer walked into the room of a sleeping girl with a knife behind his back had nothing to do with your sudden absence.

~~~

“Just gonna–” You pointed at the bathroom and got up.

“I know what you’re doing,” Obito called after you, ever observant. “You’re leaving right when things get scary.”

“No, I’m not,” you shouted from behind the closed door.

Alone, Obito finished another beer to avoid acknowledging the murder happening on screen. For a while he was critiquing the inaccuracies. How the victim should be gasping for their last breaths, not screaming. The sound effect of a blade slicing through skin when it should be a pop. Too much blood in some areas, too little in others. It wasn’t real. He reminded himself again; it wasn’t real. But it was hard to remember it wasn’t real when you were gone, leaving him to fend for himself. That’s why he needed you beside him. To bring him into the present.

His mail carrier. His reluctant acquaintance. His friend. His best friend.

No–you were more. You had to be, because if you weren’t, he’d never forgive himself for losing the opportunity to call you the best thing that has ever happened to him.

~~~

It was a coincidence you paced in the bathroom until the music died down and the shrieks ceased.

Opening and closing the door behind you, you crossed your arms and prepared to sit for an average of seven to eight minutes until the next killing, but when you hunkered into place next to Obito, you knew you belonged there for longer.

It started cautiously. Escalating minute by minute towards the climax. First, fingertips brushed a gray sweatshirt. Next, they bent to catch the material between the forefinger and thumb. Curling more to take it into their grasp. To feel the person underneath shudder out a breath, and wince. In the movie, the girl with chin length brown hair awoke, but instead of her nightmare disappearing, he stood before her, and she released a blood-curdling scream.

All at once, you clutched onto Obito’s arm and he, in turn, closed his eyes to the chase scene, his painful grip on your thigh wrinkling your sweats where his fingers dug in. Your stomach flipped at the thrills overtaking you–the fright, the giggly rush of endorphins, the relief–but being so near, you discerned Obito’s stifled panting and alarming pulse.

You lifted your face from where you childishly ducked it into his shoulder and kept your tone light, asking, “Are you okay?”

“It’s.. bad memories,” he said, blinking rapidly at the image of the killer’s pool of blood oozing on his cabin wall.

“Oh! Oh my God, I’m such an idiot.” You sprang forward and paused the movie on the black screen with tiny white names scrolling by. For him, it could end on a good note. The little girl won. He didn’t need to see the after credits scene. “I’m so sorry, Obito. I wasn’t thinking, playing something so insensitive.”

He shushed you in a croaky voice, “It bothers me less than you think, but.. it’s better when you’re here. Easier to deal with. And it’s better when I’m here too, right? You’re less scared.”

A statement lost on two people who dare not confess to its accuracy.

“Yes. I’m less scared when you’re here.”

Obito seemed to be lost in his thoughts. Retrograding to his former self. Hunching into his chest, nodding subtly to something you couldn’t hear, tracing the edge of the beer can with his thumb. You weren’t sure he was listening, but after taking a few sips he spoke again. “Can we watch another movie together?”

Time was of no consequence when it came to comforting him. “Of course.”

~~~

Romantic comedy. That was the genre name even when it leaned heavily into the romance and the jokes didn’t land. Obito was under the impression these were your favorites, considering you knew all the cheesy lines by heart, but when your temple came into contact with his shoulder, he was surprised to find you asleep. Though, at the same time, he was more than happy to practice the butterfly-inducing venture of putting his arm around you without the pressure of judgment. He could always remove it before you stirred, anyway.

He was learning. At his own pace. This was the second movie where they showed this sort of gesture happening. It had to be romantic, his heart told him so, skyrocketing when he cupped your chin to help raise your head. A delicate moment, entrusting himself to maintain composure with your face tipped back and your available lips a fraction away from his. This was romantic, his fumbling told him so. The charismatic men in the movies made it look so effortless. So easy. Obito meant to lift you gently, but in his tipsy blundering, he shoved you, and upon teetering on falling in the wrong direction, he threw his arm around your shoulders in effort to reel you back to him.

A sea of metal cans glinted around the projector; it was no wonder you couldn’t keep your eyes open, and he couldn’t keep his urges in check.

He was a boy again.

Carefree, whimsy, and proud of his juvenile accomplishments.

Your head rested where he felt it belonged, in the pocket his arm created stretched in a protective hold over you, your cheek on his chest. If you were to smile, your lips would graze the scars of who he was. Obito Uchiha. No better than the horrors in the movies you proclaimed scared you, yet, here you were, gifting him the luxury of pretending he deserved a happy ending.

He was a boy again. Lonely in this world that didn’t want him. Pathetic in his ways of stealing affection. Grieving what he did not know.

But as you snaked your arm around his belly and gathered his sweatshirt into your fingers, you released a dreamy sigh despite being in close quarters with an unredeemable monster. He was a boy, a teenager, a young man, an adult exploring a brief glimpse into a better life. One he could not bear giving up on.

The handsome man in the romcom held his lady tight. Hands formed to her waist and foreheads together, swaying to music. Dancing in a lavish living room teeming with velvets and tapestries, alerting Obito to another hurdle between him and the suave man he wished he was. He didn’t know how to dance, much less swoon you over his scratchy hand-me-down couch or his creaky wooden floors. Not to mention, if you were to fawn over him like the lady was, you would be wise to his scarred body for the first time.

He broke out in a cold sweat. You tucked your legs under you and bound his shirt tighter, warning him of your rousing. Dread sloshed in the pit of his stomach. Not only did you have impeccable timing waking up during the explicit sex scene, he hadn’t come up with an explanation for why his arm was around you.

Thankfully, mercy was granted. Instead of accusing him of being a creep towards his assigned civil servant, you nuzzled harder at his solid chest and continued to sleep. This could not have been a finer outcome. In his bout of drunken unholiness, he polished the beer he was holding and set it on the side table, freeing his hand for better purposes. He slid his palm along your fist, cradling it. Slotting his pinky around yours and crooking it slightly. Almost holding your hand again. Smirking at the actor’s orgasm face plastered across his den. He may be enjoying himself, but Obito was elated beyond a quick release. He was the hero in his own movie.

“I just–! Felt the spark with you the first time we met,” the woman in the movie raved. Another running theme Obito noticed.

The spark. At first Obito questioned what they were talking about, what it felt like, and the importance of this innate sixth sense. Did it hurt? Was it obvious? Did he feel it the first time you met? Or the second?

Did one know when they felt the spark if they’ve grown accustomed to living with it day after day, slowly, deeply, like it was the next natural step in the relationship?

~~~

The old cabin stretched its bones and groaned; its two inhabitants inside mimicked its fuss and noises of working through drowsy disorientation. The room had been bathed in black for several loud ticks of the clock in the kitchen. After the credits ran their course, the projector defaulted to stand-by mode, flashing nothing but a logo in the center.

“Obito,” you shook the dozing man who was putting a crick in your neck. “‘Bito,” you huffed, rubbing his stomach until he cut his snore short.

He sucked in the drool threatening to pour over his bottom lip and lifted his head, confused as to what was going on. “Did I–?”

“You fell asleep on me.” Selling your complaint, you rolled your neck back and forth, groaning about the pain of his head slumping on top of yours when he nodded off. You put your best acting skills into raising your arms above your head and yawning.

Taking it as his out, he removed his arm from around you, leaving behind a trace of his warmth like a ghost of the hug you wanted it to be. He didn’t try to justify why it was there, he just acted like it never happened. “It’s really late, isn’t it?”

“Super late.”

“Will you be okay walking home alone?”

“I know how to protect myself.” You made chopping motions with your hands, somehow kicking the coffee table in the process. Both of you cringed at the clanging ruckus of cans falling over to the floor.

“You sure do.” He stood. “I’ll take you through the woods.”

“As an escort? I’m so charmed, Mr. Uchiha.”

He scoffed and hurried you out the door to the chilly night. Try as he might to regress into the grump he was, you knew better. You knew the weight of those arms lifting branches out of your way. You knew the tempo of his gait as he paved your path. You knew the flutter of his heart as he stole another glance at you. You knew the complexities of his fingers pointing out a spider web to avoid. Their strengths and weaknesses. How he revealed his fears in his brutal grip when he became vulnerable to his memories, and his kindness when locking pinkies in the midst of a tender love confession happening in the fake world of the movie reflecting in his eyes.

His treasured touch reserved only for you. And only when you pretended to be asleep.

At the forest’s edge a grassy cliff and train tracks divided your and Obito’s lives from one another. Tree roots wove under the earth where you waited alongside him, blowing out puffs of air fogging the dome of twinkling lights radiating from Konoha like a premature dawn. During your last not-date he said he’d never gone this far. Not a single step into the trimmed cliffside maintained by the odd landscaper who regretted their job toeing the line of what lies beyond the whispering boughs.

“Do you want to walk me to the top of the stairs?”

Obito’s posture stiffened. His Adam's apple bobbed with a visible gulp. Plunging and leaping from the stored breath he refused to release. One foot outside his reclusion, that’s what you asked for. One step towards the train tracks. Nothing to you, everything to him; and as you dragged your knuckles down his forearm, he was taking more than one step. Borrowing your courage to complete something people took for granted.

Frozen manicured blades of grass crunched. Lumber train tracks thudded under the treads of his sneakers. Icy metal burned his hands wrenched around the handrail at the landing atop his mountain. The city he helped raze to the ground now stood tall, grand. Crowded with buildings full of families resting in the morning hour.

“Wow,” he whispered.

“You did it, Obi,” you congratulated him, matching his quiet amazement. Screaming internally at yourself for nearly ruining his moment with a hug.

“It’s so different from when I was little,” he said. “Where do you live?”

You pointed to the eastern sector. “Over there. Tiny building, can’t see it from here. One bedroom, one bath. Way too much rent.”

His face changed, losing his youthful awe for discovering what existed outside his secluded exile. “Is Dai waiting for you?”

“He’s probably asleep.”

“Mm,” he answered. A reserved response alluding to his white-knuckled grasp relinquishing the hand rail. Squaring his shoulders and addressing you with restraint present in his nuances. Clenching his fist, flexing his jaw, working through the morals which kept him from acting upon what was obvious.

You gazed up at him with hopeful, wanton desire in your eyes. This is where he should lean in and kiss you. It happened in both movies he watched. The man walked the woman home and kissed her goodnight. You weren’t exactly home, but there was no way he’d miss the hint. Your expectation was evident.

He did not take the hint.

“We forgot to pack up your projector and movies,” he said.

“Oh, it’s okay. I can get them some other time. Feel free to watch whatever you want.” You rocked onto your toes, throwing in a giggle at your forgetfulness. Adorable as you could be for him. Swishing your hips like the pretty girls in the movies. Still.. he nagged you about your well-being instead of taking the damn hint.

“I didn’t know how long your walk home was. Will you be safe?”

Again, you shrugged at the cityscape. “I’ll be careful. Do you normally worry this much about me–?”

“Yes.” It came sharp and without complexities. “Yes.”

“Don’t.” You smothered your months-long yearning and clapped your hand over his bicep in a friendly manner. As friendly as one could get when imagining their best friend’s lips on theirs. “But you can watch me go if you want.”

“I will,” he stated, “to make sure you’re safe. I’ll stay here until you’re home.”

“What a gentleman.”

You waited. And waited. He did nothing, so you left. Stair by stair, reminiscing on your night. Walking to your apartment unaccompanied. Ignoring the spike in awareness nagging you to fix your eyes on the top of the southern staircase at the person who haunted you most. Closing your door and locking it to symbolize pushing Obito out of your mind. Though, it never worked.

“Daidai!” Dai scurried from the bedroom and performed figure eights around your ankles, tangling your legs as you shuffled to the bathroom to run a makeup wipe over your face before crashing in your bed.

“Sorry I’m home so late,” you said in breathless earnest, grunting at his little paws stabbing your ribs, climbing on top of you to lay on your chest. “I cracked the code, I think.” You cupped his cheeks and doled out circles of pets along his scent glands. Your lungs vibrated with the intensity of his purrs. “Obito doesn’t like me after all.”

Dai gave a cranky meow.

“Or maybe he does! I don’t know. Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t. He’s just so–so–ugh!”

Dai gave a more positive meow and headbutted your nose.

“I know you missed me, Buddy, I’m sorry,” you said, halting your habitual rant. Once Dai acclimated to being an indoor cat, he became extremely affectionate and attached at your side. Ripping your heart to shreds when you had to leave him for such long periods of time. “It’s funny, if you were Obito’s cat, I’d see you all the time.” Between your normal route, your extended route from your coworker on maternity leave, and keeping up with who you owed what favors to, you were hardly home. Your free time was spent at Obito’s. “If you were Obito’s..”

Obito was lonely. You were too, but less so. Daidai needed a true caretaker. Someone who could dedicate their time to showering him with the love he truly deserved.

“If you were Obito’s cat..”

~~~

“Thanks for helping me out.”

Kakashi shifted the bag of litter higher on his shoulder and climbed the stairs ahead of you, smiling. His mask obscured the pleasantry, but his warm eyes told the story. “I was more than happy to assist you,” he said. “In actuality, I’ve been searching for a purpose to disappear from my desk all afternoon.”

“It’s a wonder you have your job with how often I pass by the creek and see you taking a nap under a tree.”

“Ha, you’ve caught me, huh?” He tilted his head. “Being Hokage isn’t a particularly difficult job, but I enjoy my time away when I can. Though, Shikamaru usually finds me before I fall asleep.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What did you tell him you were doing to be away this long?”

The sudden lack of eye contact was apparent.

“Oh, you know.. Aiding a damsel in distress, or something.”

“Am I the damsel, or is Obito?”

“Either!” he surmised after a pause. “I haven’t been able to escape my invaluable duties of signing papers approving of a third ramen shop on the main street long enough to visit Obito in a while. I’m looking forward to seeing him.”

“When was,” –Dai meowed from his carrier– “I know, Buddy, just a little longer,” you babied him, then spoke to Kakashi, “When was the last time you saw Obito?”

Kakashi turned at the last landing at the top of the staircase, allowing you a brief glimpse at the switch in his demeanor. Losing the sagely crinkles of joy at the outer corners of his eyes, a glint of time flying by in his dull stare. “Months? No. Nearly a year.”

“Oh.”

“Tell me,” he continued, starting on the footpath, “has he said anything concerning in front of you?”

There was no need to clarify. “He.. has. But I think his mental health has improved since the last time you visited. It’s too bad you’re coming here so late into the season, we’ve already covered the roses for the winter. He takes such good care of them. And yeah, he still struggles with finding a purpose, but I think me coming around so often gives him something to do.” You sighed fondly at the memories. Until your brain caught up with your mouth. “Not like that! Uh, anyway. He doesn’t sleep in anymore. He takes care of his house, and himself, without me asking. He cooks meals for us. I have lunch or dinner with him most days. Or both. I really shouldn’t because it affects my sleep schedule, and interferes with taking care of my own apartment–oh yeah, and it cuts into my routes, but I just can’t help it. I like hanging out with him. Obito has grown so much, I think he’s responsible enough to take care of Daidai. They need each other. And in a weird way, they’re a lot alike. They’ll be a good fit.” You almost bumped into Kakashi, who stopped mid stride. “Lord Sixth?”

In truth, he had been giving you a strange look for the entire last leg of your journey to Obito’s front yard. “Did you say you have lunch and dinner with him?”

“Yeah, totally! He’s really good at cooking and likes teaching me. We pick vegetables from his garden and he shows me how to slice them up. I have so many cookbooks from when I was taking care of him over the summer, it’s nice to choose recipes together. We talk–well, I talk–while we eat. We’ve learned a lot about each other, and yeah.” You hiked up your shoulders and moved past Kakashi before he could analyze your toothy grin. “He’s nice to be around once you get to know him. Even if he does grimace when I mix wet and dry ingredients together in the same bowl.”

“I was aware you came here often over the summer, but you still take those stairs every day during or after your mail route?”

“Yes, sir. So if you’d like to build me an elevator, I’d appreciate it.”

“Duly noted.. Er, are we not going through the front?” Kakashi asked as you veered off course to the side of the cabin, stepping over beds of reedy plants laying dormant until next spring.

“It’s usually locked. I always go through the back.” Resituating the bag of dry cat food on your hip, you opened the door without knocking and placed what you could on the kitchen counter. He lifted his eyebrows at this piece of information.

“No knocking?”

“He doesn’t mind. Obito!” You shouted his name, but no answer came. “Maybe he took a nap. Obito, wake up!” You called louder, entering the den with Kakashi standing beside you, peering into the hallway. “You have two special guests who have come to see you! Kakashi and Dai are waiting.”

The bathroom door ripped open.

Obito loomed taller than he had any right to be. Glistening from his shower. Tanned skin billowing with steam from the heat of his glare. Slick white hair stuck to his forehead. Harsh scars running rivers over his abs with lustrous droplets winding their way to the too-small towel slung loosely about the muscular contours above his hips, stunning his audience with a peek at the thick black hair trailing his stomach to the arousing flash of his upper thigh. He was posed forward like a threat, jaw set to intimidate, hands wrenched into fists. Ready and willing to fight for what was his.

His chest heaved with rage. Obito looked from you, to Kakashi, to the luggage in your hand. He blinked. He looked from your gaped mouth, to his friend’s coy expression, to the oddly shaped luggage in your hand, and the yellow eyes beyond its mesh paneling.

Kakashi spoke first, “I didn’t realize you two were this close.”

You slapped your hand over your eyes and spun around. “Put some damn clothes on!”

Obito yelped and shut the door.

You apologized to Kakashi. He just laughed it off, which was somehow worse than his teasing and did not help ease the tension when Obito reemerged wearing a pair of light wash jeans, a black shirt, and red flannel. Exceedingly handsome. Approaching you with a lightness in his steps, a friendliness to his aura. Confident. Like a great weight had been lifted from his chest.

“Sorry, I, uhm, thought there was an intruder and I–” Obito tsked at Kakashi’s egregious chuckling. “I really did. But.. Dai?”

The airy gentleness in his tone when focusing on you was one you’d never forget. Gone was the hoarse, scratchy voice he normally asserted when grousing at Kakashi. When looking at you, he softened. You were infatuated with both versions, naturally, but it was flattering being the special one he let his guard down for.

You knelt, and he did too, crouching to his knees in front of the carrier you placed on the floor. “Do you want to meet him?” Obito nodded. His face was blank from emotion. You dragged the zipper framing the door and his splendid lips parted with a gasp.

Out sauntered an orange tabby with one eye and three legs.

“This is Daidai, the stray cat I rescued a few months back.”

“Dai,” he whispered the name for the first time without anger. “This is Dai.”

Keen, Dai sniffed his surroundings, bobbing his head and twitching his tail, getting a feel of this new place with only one step out of the comfort of his carrier, pupils growing to big black lakes taking in the crowd of humans. Cautious, he swiveled his ears, listening to you instruct Obito on how to coax a grumpy cat like him, but your directions were cut short. Daidai plowed into his awaiting fingers. Rubbing his cheeks back and forth, driving them into the wood floor and trapping his knuckles, forcing Obito to pet him until he was satisfied.

“Ow,” he said.

“Yeah, he’s a cuddle bug when he wants to be.”

Obito made the mistake of sitting with his legs crossed. Also known as the perfect position to display an available lap for a cat to curl into.

Dai’s wobbly balance was endearing, earnings ‘aww’s from around the room. He plodded in a few circles on Obito’s calves to knead him into the ideal bed and laid down in a purring heap. Flumping like the chubby king he was, nuzzling into the warmth. Though, Obito was less than excited for the orange cat hair clinging to his clothes, muttering, “His claws hurt.”

You unhooked them from his pants leg. “It’s called making biscuits. It’s a sign he’s happy.” He snorted at that.

Petting the base of Daidai’s tail, the backs of your fingers brushed Obito’s stomach through his shirt, drawing his gaze away from the cat, to you, who was leaning into his arm.

“I’m not home a lot,” you spoke as gingerly as your touch. “Dai deserves more attention than I can give him. He’s older. A little grumpy, but a sweetheart, too. Once he trusts you he wants to be at your side all the time, and.. he already trusts you. He eats wet food for breakfast and dinner, and likes a bowl of dry food to be out for him to graze at whenever he wants. His litter box needs to be cleaned once a day. I brought all his favorite toys and scratching posts.” It was your greatest act of restraint to refrain from kissing his scarred cheek smelling of aftershave. “Can you take care of him for me?”

He uttered his answer as if the wind were knocked from him. “Yes.”

You may have responded with gratitude. Maybe you nodded, thanked him, and pinched your arm to see if you were dreaming; you don’t know, the pleasantness of his face was a reverie in itself.

However, in reality, Kakashi observed you two lock gazes and stare into each other’s eyes like two ripe lovebirds on their first date for an agonizing amount of time without committing to something more entertaining. It was as wholesome as it was awkward.

“So,” Kakashi cleared his throat.

“Right!” You flinched, remembering there was a third person in the room. “I’ll go find a spot in the bathroom and set up the litter box.” Collecting the aforementioned items from Kakashi, you scurried out of the den, dropping the bag of litter in the hallway not once, but twice, before he could convince you to come back.

“Well.. Okay.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s good to see you, Obito.”

Meekly, he responded in kind, “It’s good to see you, too.”

Kakashi folded his legs under him and sat next to Obito, holding out his hand out for Dai to smell. His Highness turned his nose up at the musty canine scent, then accepted a few scratches between the ears, anyway. “How have you been?”

How could one summarize how one has been in an entire calendar year to a friend who felt like a stranger?

“Good, I guess.” Obito straightened up and rolled his shoulders. “You?”

“Busy.” It wasn’t an excuse, but it sounded like one.

“Figured as much.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Obito said. “You’re Konoha’s Hokage and I live out here in the woods. You’re busy. It happens.” No malice was meant, yet the sting hurt all the same.

Kakashi withdrew his hand to his lap and sighed into his chest. Lackadaisical, lazy, unbothered. That’s what he appeared to be when he put up his shield. And he may be those things, but they did not account for the overwhelming amount of guilt slowing him down, causing him to sleep at his desk, to lose time reminiscing on where he went wrong, missing what he once held dear.

Shaking his head, a grayed silver hair bounced against his forehead as he jerked his chin in the direction of the bathroom. “You two seem to get along well.”

Obito sneaked a glance at him from under his lashes. “Yeah, she’s nice.” He used his mangled hand of healed scars and Hashirama’s cells to trace the edge where Dai’s own right arm was amputated. “I’ve told her some of my past, but she doesn’t know why I look like this. She never asked. She’s kind like that.”

Doing his due diligence to steer the conversation away from the areas of Obito’s life which ended in disaster, Kakashi surveyed the abundance of art covering the walls. “You’ve certainly decorated the place since I last came by.”

It’s funny, Obito had grown used to the grandma style decor after a while. He’d hardly noticed it anymore. In fact, he couldn’t remember when you dressed up the dining table in the ugliest floral needlepoint tablecloth he’d ever seen. There’s no way he would’ve approved of it, even if he did think the colors were complementary, and the handiwork was truly masterful, and there was a particular rose he ran his pinky over when you both reached for the butterknife and grabbed hands on accident. “It’s all her stuff,” he mumbled. “She kept bringing it over the summer when I was sick. Felt like I had no choice but to keep them since she was doing so much for me.”

“It makes your place look lived in. Like a home.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “It does.”

From the unlit hallway, you made yourself known, attracting the interests of both men by saying, “Litter box is ready to go. Kakashi, did you want to stay for dinner?”

His stomach rumbled. “If that’s alright with you two.”

Obito rolled his eyes. “Of course it is.”

You cheered, “Of course it is!” After a pause you squinted in thought. “What should I make?”

“I have enough leftovers in the fridge from last night’s dinner if you want to heat them up on the stove,” Obito said and turned to Kakashi. “If leftovers are okay.. Or we could make something fresh. Or..” Poor Obito, he’d never had to entertain multiple guests before. He was working himself up into a worry over the smallest things, glancing from you to Kakashi, imploring one of you to make a decision for him.

“I’m just happy to eat anything that’s cooked for me,” Kakashi said.

“Leftovers is it, then! And Obito?” He blinked at you. You clasped your hands in front of you and swayed your hips cutely, pouting your bottom lip. “Can you start a fire for me? I’m cold.”

He was up and throwing logs onto the metal grate before Dai could land on his feet.

~~~

Night fell early. Tips of evening sun fanned above the bottle brush pine trees, bidding the mountain farewell too soon after rising. You were sitting on the floor at the coffee table, your bowl of soup half empty, a spoon on its way to your mouth forgotten about mid-air, besotted by the rekindling friendship between the two men on the couch.

“Did he ever–” Kakashi laughed. “Did he ever tell you about the old granny panties he stole?”

“Shut up!” Obito begged, face in his hands.

“He swears he was hanging up some old lady’s laundry, but when I passed by her house on the way to team sparring–which he was late for, might I add–he was running at me with them on his head, yelling about birds or something.”

Obito revealed his burning red cheeks. “I told you,” he enunciated. “While I was hanging them up there was a big gust of wind and they fell off the clothes line and landed on my face, and yes, I screamed, which startled the mockingbirds into diving-bombing me! You know what? I’m really regretting you being here.”

You patted Obito’s knee twice. Smoothing your hand over the slope of his thigh and leaving it there after the final consoling gesture. “Aw, it’s okay, Obi. I still like you even if you do steal old lady’s under–”

“Hush it.” The playful ferocity in his narrow-eyed glare sealed your coquettish lips. “How about I tell you the story of Kakashi catching a kunai with his left asscheck.”

“Still have the scar too!” Kakashi quipped.

The rest of dinner was shared rotating stories, each of you taking a turn to reflect on the silly things in your lives which used to be tremendous deals at the time, now serving as mindless fun. Obito knew most of yours–a byproduct from how much time you spent together–but he nodded at the appropriate beats and added tidbits to Kakashi about your coworkers to fill in the gaps you left out. To someone else this may seem boring. Not to Obito. He earned the right to know you better than anyone else. Besides, your gracious hand on his leg when he spoke was more than enough motivation to participate.

Winding down the party, Kakashi hooked a finger around the folds of fabric gathered around his neck and slipped his mask over the lower half of his face. You understood the cue and stopped fiddling with the hem of Obito’s jeans and pushed yourself to your feet, rubbing the aches you collected from sitting on the floor for so long. A third chair for the dining table was next on the house’s list of needs.

“I’ll take that,” you said as you stacked Obito’s bowl and spoon on top of yours, rounding the back of the couch to add Kakashi’s to the teetering tower balanced in your palm.

You spun to take them to the kitchen when Obito reached over and caught you by the cardigan. A small latch and tug at your sleeve for an hour, it felt, with how long you waited for his eyebrows to unfurrow and for him to speak in that gossamer voice he manifested only for you. It was so gentle, Kakashi held his breath.

“Don’t wash them by yourself,” Obito said, barely above a whisper. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

One did not require a trained eye to see Obito’s fingers skim the curve of your palm, nor the adoring light you regarded him in when he made sure to include you in stories from their youth, welcoming you into their old friendship like you welcomed them to the home of your heart.

“Take your time,” you requested of him and walked away. Obito watched you leave, engrossed in your movements until you left his sight, and even then, he immersed himself in your shadow cast outside the kitchen doorway.

Icha Icha did not compare. The insurmountable reverence passing over Obito’s face far eclipsed Jaraiya’s poetry. Lewd rhymes ending in titillating adventures held no candle to his friend’s unguarded expression.

“Have you thought more on your future?” Kakashi asked.

It was clear from his reflexive scowl he knew where this was going. “No. I haven’t.”

“Not even with–”

“Don’t.” Obito ended the discussion before it began. He closed off his body language from further investigation and fixated on the fire, daring it, too, to prod into the dark place it did not belong.

The mood flipped to the bleakness of Obito’s outlook on life. The mismatched hands he wrung were not souvenirs of his past, they were his future. Marked for eternity by his mistakes. The rough palms he wiped on his jeans were not from the honor of protecting people, they were the result of manual labor to keep himself fed. The white hair he combed through was not the fruit of growing old, with his scars acting as merry wrinkles from an endless amount of smiles, it was all shit. All a disservice to those he cared about most.

He wanted more. He craved more. By the searing light of hope at the end of the tunnel, he needed more.

Yet, his brain mocked him.

Antsier and antsier, Obito fidgeted, until at last, he broke. He used his thumb and index to pinch the bridge of his nose out of desperation to alleviate his throbbing headache and confessed, “I thought Dai was her boyfriend.”

Kakashi slid his gaze to the napping cat on the coffee table, then back to Obito. “You’ll have to explain that one to me.”

Expelling an exhaustive sigh at his own cowardice, he clarified, “Every time she came over she’d talk about “Dai this” and “Dai that.” Never once did she say he was a cat. When she’d leave me to go home early, she’d say she needed to feed Dai. I thought that meant she was having dinner with her boyfriend and didn’t want me to know.”

“Do you normally think someone would phrase having dinner with the loved one as “having to feed them?””

Obito groaned. “I know how stupid it sounds. You don’t have to rub it in.”

“On the bright side, now you know she’s single, so why not make a move?”

“Because–because.. I can’t.” He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “I just–can’t.” Bowing forward, he curled his shoulders in to make himself as small as possible, picking at the flaky skin around his fingernails, focusing on anything but the impending doom swelling in his chest making it impossible to breathe through the tightness in his throat.

“Why not?” Kakashi asked delicately, keeping his voice below the sound of the running faucet. “It’s obvious she likes you as more than a friend, and you’ve devoted yourself to the very ground she walks on. Why not give it a chance?”

With the exact, nagging question he wanted to avoid being asked, everything crashed.

Obito bit back the pained noise escaping past his gritted teeth. The type of whimper a man made when struck with the fears he swore he’d never confront.

Emotions surged. His shoulders shook in bursts, as did his hands. He sniffed and turned away to swipe his knuckles under his eyes, pretending he could hide it. Once in denial, twice to fight the truth, a third and fourth time when he accepted this punishment was his repentance. He scrubbed the harsh cotton of his sleeve over his cheeks until they were matching scarlet and pleaded with Kakashi to understand the water lining his lashes. To drop this once and for all. “She deserves better.”

“And what does that mean to you?”

He spoke towards the armrest. “She deserves to live in the city. To settle down and start a family. To have a house, and a yard, and children that get to live a normal life. She deserves to find someone who can take her out on dates. Who can show her off and walk her down the aisle in front of her friends. Someone who s-she can love and–f-fuck.”

Who knew a fractured person could wallow so deep in their own misery they could not see the shattered pieces for what they were.

Kakashi closed the distance and laid a warm hand on his friend’s back. “Has she ever actually mentioned these things to you?”

“No.”

“Then have you considered these things you imagined as her dealbreakers never crossed her mind in the first place?”

“No, but..” Kakashi considered cutting him off, but Obito was moving more frantically now. Shrugging and looking around desperately. Slapping his hands on his thighs and lifting them, utterly hopeless. Stressed and at his ends frustrated with Kakashi’s lack of comprehension.

With effort, Obito managed to reign in his voice to a seething timbre, looking him directly in the eyes. “I can’t do anything for her, Kakashi.” His tears spilt to his shirt without care. “I can’t get a job. I can’t provide for her. I can’t leave my fucking house. I can’t visit her in Konoha. I can’t give her anything she wants. Don’t you get it? Don’t you think I want to spend every fucking second of my day paying her back for everything she’s done for me, but can’t? She doesn’t deserve my future. She’s too good a person for that.”

“She doesn’t care about those things.” He didn’t say it as a question to guide Obito to the correct answer; he was direct, intending to get through to him. “Don’t you get it? She doesn’t come here nearly every day, twice a day, with or without delivering you mail because it’s her job. She does it to see you, because she wants to spend every second of her day being your friend because that’s all you’ll let her be, and still, she convinces herself she’ll be okay with that because, at the very least, she gets to watch you grow into the man I knew you would become.”

“Kakashi–” he choked on a sob.

“Give her a chance. Give yourself a chance. You both deserve to know the potential to be happy.”

“I can’t.”

“Try.”

“She’ll say no.”

“She won’t.”

For minutes, they argued in the bathroom whilst Kakashi expressed regret for missing out on Obito’s progress under your care, and Obito washed his face with cold water, pondering the potential of his words.

Obito looked at his lifelong friend in the mirror. Someone who witnessed the worst parts of who he was as a human and forgave him. Someone who had more mercy than necessary. Someone who praised his smallest victories like he wasn’t a fuck up. Someone similar to.. you.

He imbued his voice with the raw sincerity he felt in his heart upon realizing his house was full, full of guests come to see him specifically. “It was good seeing you again, Kakashi.”

~~~

Kakashi’s head, shoulders, and hand poked from around the kitchen door frame. “I’m taking off,” he said. “The food was delicious; don’t let Obito take all the credit, he already admitted you baked the bread.”

Bubbling with laughter, you waved, sending a cascade of water dripping from your yellow dishwashing gloves. “Take care, Kakashi. And please,” you emphasized with a truer smile, “Please come by again. I think it really helped him.”

Nodding, he agreed, “I will,” and left.

The front door opened and closed. You picked up the cutting board Obito used earlier in the day and started scrubbing, passing the rag over the stained orange splotch in the center from a few weeks ago when you chopped more carrots than rabbits could dream of. You washed Obito’s spoon, his bowl; sloshing liquid in a trance, searching for his coffee mug, when you sensed a presence approaching you.

“Come to help me, Obi?” you asked, rinsing off a plate.

He didn’t respond, but you recognized the sound of his feet dragging, and the scent of his soap in your nose as he neared your side.

“I got most of it done already, but you can..”

His sleeve caressed your hair, alerting you in delightful tingles to his arm being draped along the shelf of your shoulders.

In the reflection of the midnight-black window, you watched him wrap his other arm around you. Weak at first, crossing it over your chest to your waist, the other rested behind your neck. He stood stock still. The grand scope of his embrace relaxed. Taking it in. Slowly. Deeply. Feeling you breathe against him. Learning the significance of your frame fitting into his. Indulging in his fantasy.

You were facing forward, he was turned to the side. His glassy-eyed stare was set above your head, boring into the clock above the stove. Keeping calm as the minute hand ticked by. Waiting. Waiting. Resisting the urge until.. until he gave himself permission.

He brought you in for the first hug he’d given since boyhood.

Euphoria bloomed. Giving into the visceral relief of him acting on his desires, of him submitting to you, of losing himself in the pleasure of his hands admiring you wherever he was allowed to. Overlapping his arms to pull you in. Tighter and tighter, digging your shoulder into his sternum.

“Thank you,” Obito murmured above you. You tipped back to study the marvelous way his mouth formed those words, and what a treat it was to be swept into the uncontrolled vulnerability of his actions. “For everything,” he finished as he lifted his chin, using the entirety of his palm to guide your head to the hollow space it created, tucking you against his chest. Entrusting you with the power you had over him.

Locked as one, he swayed you slightly. Rocking you, almost, in the echoey room away from the fire you depended on for warmth. Coping with the fact his stomach shouldn’t be this twisted in knots over hugging a friend. Just a friend. So deep in denial, he convinced himself you were just a friend.

The water on your gloves glided over the rubber to the metal sink you gripped to keep steady. You whispered as if he were an animal about to startle, “Do you want me to hug you back?”

He shook his head, messing up your hair sticking to his damp cheeks. “No,” he said. His fingers danced on your skin, increasing their limp strength upon his brain telling him this was wrong, that he should stop before he became too attached, that this was all he could have and he should be grateful for it. You may have been single, but it was obvious in your stance you did not wish to reciprocate. It was a harsh lesson he should’ve picked up on long ago. Kakashi was wrong about you. An unsurprising revelation, truly, and Obito felt stupid for believing it for the split second he considered you would settle for someone like him.

“No,” he repeated, on the verge of tears evident in his trembling. “I wouldn’t know how to let go if you did.”

“What if I’m okay with that?”

All tension left his body. His chest collapsed like the wind was knocked from him. “What?”

Tugging finger by finger, you removed your dishwashing gloves and placed them on the counter. With your head sitting on his chest at an odd angle, he realized you were looking at your reflections, making eye contact with him through the window. He roamed your expression with urgency, disbelieving the sight of your hands snaring his forearm.

Instead of rejection, he was met with your glorious face, encouraging and hopeful for more.

He could give you more.

He shifted his palm from the base of your neck, up, catching your hair between his fingers. Strumming his thumb along your cheek, he tested the newness of the sensation and craved reassurance, and in return, you closed your eyes and sank into the touch.

You gave him all the validation he needed.

Released to his vices, his yearnings escalated in desperation. His other hand climbed your body to join the one supporting your head; brazenly flowing over your hip, your waist, to the soft flesh of your shoulder, to your neck, grazing his knuckles along your jaw to your chin, tilting it up, and up until you rose to your tiptoes to meet him.

Your lips curled into the radiant smile you wore only for him.

His imposing stature faltered. Relying on you to keep him upright. Depending on you to support him as you reached into the abyss of his suffering and grasped whatever you deemed worth saving.

He cradled you to his throat. Your world went dark in exchange for the heat of his pulse covering your eyes. The bridge of your nose stroked the edge of his jaw, back and forth, nudging the palace beneath his ear and residing there, your new home. You held him. Winding your arms around one of his, confining him to your embrace with strength honed from carrying packages, and groceries, and gardening supplies up a mountain for the one man you sought refuge in day after day.

His arms crushed you beautifully. Your face was enveloped in the entirety of his palms, stretching the expanse of his obsession to touch you from your temple downwards, gliding his thumb along the curve of your lips. His chin rested atop your head, springing goosebumps where he pressed his nose to your scalp, and hummed a sigh along your skin.

Except, his fingers stopped moving. Then he breathed deeper, filling his chest, once, twice.

“Why do you smell like me?”

“I use the same shampoo as you. Conditioner and soap, too.”

A warm tear streaked down your temple.

Obito worshiped you for his epiphany by burying his lips in your wet hair, expressing his rejoice in simple words like delicate kisses to your forehead, “Of course you do.”

He was so close to performing the sign you were looking for. A hug was not a kiss. Dragging his lips across your skin was not a kiss. You could not assume them as so. You had to wait until he made the first move. It was too great a risk losing him if you confessed too soon.

But, none of that mattered at this moment. In his arms. In your arms. Praising you between the brows. Venerating him along the pale column of his neck. Both of you careful to disguise your true motives, to make the actions as small as possible, to have excuses at the ready if one were to ask..

Neither of you asked. Both of you too spineless.

~~~

At the top of the staircase, you descended a step, expecting him to stay on the landing to say his goodbyes, but of course, he was full of surprises tonight.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

Obito scanned the horizon and shrugged. It wasn’t so scary when you were here. “I want to.”

He joined your step, and took the next one of his own accord, eliminating some of your height difference. You sized him up and descended further than him, two steps this time. His ego accepted the challenge, moving past you, daring you to keep up.

And when you couldn’t keep up with his stride, you grasped his sleeve above the wrist and he waited. He waited for you to catch up, for you to shove his shoulder, for you to call him a jerk for being faster than you, and he waited until you were pointing out the buildings you were naming to close his eyes and imagine this was a future he could obtain.

At the halfway point, he stalled, and you stopped with him. He shrank away from the handrail to a nook in the mountainside protected by the stairwell where the city’s illumination did not reach. There was a noticeable lack of streetlights near this side of town. You managed your way home through the dilapidated houses on familiarity alone. The reason why this section of Konoha remained abandoned stood beside you, and he was well aware of his reputation, seeing the stark wilt he caused in person for the first time.

“Right here is fine,” he said, tugging you an irrefutable fraction closer to the alcove.

Your bad habit of swaying back and forth when given the opportunity to earn his attention reemerged. You slipped your fingers under his sleeve cuff and grinned. God, you’d never grow tired of flirting with him. When Obito blushed, it was as if your world was complete. More so, when he learned the importance of reciprocation and rotated to where his thumb and forefinger entwined yours, capturing you for a beat of his heart, and letting go.

You wondered if he also knew the importance of your left ring finger as he squeezed it. The tic of awareness in his eyebrows said he did.

“Remember to feed Dai again when you get back,” you whispered. There was no need to talk louder.

He placed his hands in his pockets, arms tight against his sides, shuffling his feet to expel his nerves. “I will.”

Silence clung to the space between your teeth. You didn’t want to leave yet, but couldn’t form a conversation to keep you there. Obito didn’t mind. He cherished the periods where you distracted yourself. How else would he get away with staring at your lips this long?

You yawned. “Well, it’s past my bedtime, I think. Early shift tomorrow.”

“Will you actually eat breakfast this time?”

“No promises.”

“Thought not.”

You forced what laughter came, and positioned yourself to leave. Granting him a second chance to sweep you off your feet, confess his undying love, and kiss you under the canopy of stars.

Regretfully, he did not stop you. He nodded goodbye and turned away, heading up the stairs to his cabin in the woods.

You curled your fingers inward from a wave he didn’t care to see and dropped your hand to your side, disappointed despite the tender embrace he gave you in his kitchen.

Feeling the weight of his indifference sagging your shoulders, you continued traveling in the opposite direction of him.

“Oh yeah,” he said. You spun around. “I meant to give Kakashi a letter earlier, but forgot.. I guess you’ll have to come by tomorrow.”

“Guess I will,” you drawled coyly, already smiling. “Lunch or dinner?”

“Both. I.. really want to see you again for both.”

No question at the end of his statement. No stuttering in his demand. No second guessing if he should ask for less. He knew what he wanted, and he posed it with the brave lift of his chin, thankful your eyesight could not discern how badly he was sweating at this distance.

“Both, huh?” You pretended to think about it. “I think I can do both.”

“Good. Uh, great, I mean. Bye.” He couldn’t leap up the stairs fast enough.

You giggled. “Bye, Obi.”

~~~

That night, Obito slid his arms through the cool, silken sleeves of his clan’s haori, tying it at his waist and climbing into bed. Draping himself in opulence tantamount to your own touch on his naked skin. He wore the collar cuddled to his face, inhaling the scent of him. And you. Sleeping peacefully for the first time in weeks.

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