Chapter 2
It’s an entirely different world she wakes up to, when Naruto is at her side.
She used to wake up early to water her plants and go on her errands, if she didn’t have a mission, and the streets were a welcome and soothing reprieve. She could walk through each market area with simple nods and greetings, all hushed and in passing. The sun would kiss her skin, and she would look up into the sky and everything would be still.
Naruto claims her as his own and makes sure the entire village knows, and every trip outside her home thereafter becomes an adventure in social politics and vibrant well-wishes.
People call out to her on the streets, hands falling on her shoulders, pulling her aside to talk and ask and project. She doesn’t mind the change, though at first it’s difficult to get used to such a stark difference between what she had known and what now is. When she heads into the markets alone she leaves now with friends, with acquaintances, people who follow her and only want spare moments of her time, so easy for her to give.
She wonders if this is how Naruto feels, now, since having saved this village. If it’s possibly to grow comfortable with this level of attention, unavoidable and intersecting into every compartmentalized section of her life. She wonders if this is what Naruto feels like when he walks through the streets of Konoha, picking up friends like strays.
Hinata doesn’t hate it, though she wonders, too, if she might let the people down. She’s not as vibrant as Naruto, and she’s nowhere near as extroverted. She folds in on herself in the evenings like a flower tucking itself away for the night, and blooms anew every morning, in her own time. A pale lily in deep soil, alone and separate but somehow still entrenched in the leaves, somehow still together.
Ino and Sakura, extroverted themselves, are quite used to similar attention. Though there’s still a difference, there, in that the people want to be close to them to be close to them, and not because of any significant other that’s in their lives. It was Naruto that shone a light over her, bright and glaring, one she couldn’t and didn’t particularly want to hide from.
It was Naruto who stood atop the highest point in the village with her in his arms, nose tucked against her neck and smile pressed against her skin for all the world to see.
And since then, she hasn’t had a single day in the village without being called out to. It baffles her sometimes how many people know her name and her face, though she knows that it shouldn’t. Besides Naruto’s influence, she is also the head of her clan, a leader in her own right. A warrior of battle and politics, both.
She smoothes a hand down the fine silk of her formal kimono, one of several that she has taken to wearing within Konoha’s walls, blatant signals of her power in this village. The Hyuuga crest warms her, pressing heavy and unforgettably between her shoulder blades. She shifts her hand to catch the wide, gaping sleeve grazing over her left wrist, and her thumb runs across a hastily sewn patch. Hanabi’s needle-work, still in need of improvement.
And Naruto’s crest.
It’s tucked on the inseam of her sleeve, miniscule compared to the crest on her back and a little difficult to see, but it makes her feel like she has Naruto with her at all times, and that’s something.
She didn’t need the reminder of it today, however. Naruto waits for her at the gates of her compound, leaning casually against them and picking idly at his nails with a kunai. Hinata slides the gate shut behind her, cheeks already tinged rose just at the sight of him. She turns with a small smile, tucking some of her wayward hair behind her ear. It’s since grown longer, the tips of it grazing her rear. Naruto peels himself away from the gate the moment he sees her, his lips curling in an instant, eyes gleaming.
“Hey,” he says, and he moves into her space without hesitation, without question. His forehead presses against hers, one hand already coming up to run his fingers through her hair, all the way from her temple to the flare of her hip. He presses his chin forward until his lips are a breath away from hers, so much so that she can feel the heat of him, the citrus on his tongue. She doesn’t know if he does this on purpose; it’s a fairly recent change, this almost teasing of lips a breath away from her own. It forces her to step closer, to press up onto the tips of her toes to catch his lower lip between her teeth. She blushes every shade of sunset but she doesn’t pull away, even when she hears an ever-familiar groan behind her.
“Listen,” Yamanaka Ino says, and Hinata knows without having to turn and look that her arms are crossed over her chest, one foot tapping. “We’re just going shopping, lovebirds.”
Hinata flushes to the tips of her ears, laughing lowly against Naruto’s chest as his arms come up to surround her. She turns in the breadth of his embrace, pleased that he doesn’t move to release her, and smiles kindly at Sakura and Ino. They’re mirroring each other, hips cocked and expressions playfully protective. They pin Naruto in place, a specimen on a board, and it really shows how confident he is that he doesn’t flinch.
Either that, or how utterly lacking in self-preservation he is. Hinata truly thinks it’s a toss-up.
“Good morning,” Hinata offers, and Naruto rests his chin on the top of her head even as he says, “You’re so mean.”
“Keep it in your pants, Naruto,” Sakura says blithely, flipping her short hair out of her face. “She’s got a reputation to uphold.”
“I know!” Naruto asserts immediately, which startles Hinata into blinking a few times. The thrum of his chest against her back warms her, but the surprise of his insistency regarding her position in the village sets chills along her arms. “Believe me, I know.“
There had been languorous talks for weeks about how Naruto would fit himself into Hinata’s life, once she became the clan Head. Her father was a rock, sharp edged like fractured stone, and Naruto was a persistent and resolutely immovable place. And Hinata was a stream bubbling between them, caught and held, calming and neutral. Eventually she talked them both into agreement, walking away with both her father’s approval and Naruto’s heart still good and fully held in her hands.
Her political savvy was not to be underestimated, after all.
“Well?” Sakura sighs, stretching her hands over her head. “Let’s do this thing.”
“You make it sound like we’re going to war,” Ino snorts, even as she reaches out and threads her fingers through Sakura’s, tugging her against her side. Sakura moves willingly, smiling.
“Been there,” Sakura sighs, sounding bored. “Done that. Shopping is a new kind of monster, especially when it’s wedding shopping.”
Naruto sidles up to Hinata’s side, fingers following Ino’s arc and sliding through Hinata’s until their palms press together. Hinata maneuvers her way with her friends into the market streets with perfect poise, even with a train of fabric trailing behind her, the alabaster silk already fringed along the hem. She thinks of Hanabi’s stubborn frown, needle in one hand and fabric in the other, and thinks she’ll like the challenge and the practice of fixing up such elegant material. Hinata only hopes she doesn’t angrily destroy the entire gown, once Hinata hands it over to her for fixing.
“I don’t really get why we have to be going shopping,” Naruto suddenly whispers, leaning down closer to Hinata’s ear so that Sakura and Ino don’t catch wind of his words. “They’re the ones getting married.”
“Sakura is your sister,” Hinata responds easily, “and Ino is going to be her wife. Of course they want family to come shopping with them; this is also a big moment.”
“Shopping?” Naruto snorts, “a huge moment? I don’t believe it.”
“Believe it,” Hinata grins, stealing his catch phrase and turning it against him. His eyes leap to hers immediately, swirling with good humor, bright and effervescent in the early morning sun. He tightens his grip on her hand and leans down rather abruptly to steal a kiss from her lips, almost knocking against her forehead.
He’s standing back to his full height a second later, and when Hinata garners enough composure to look back up at him, she sees the lightest dance of rose across his tanned cheeks, reaching so far as the tips of his ears. It makes her laugh, nearly silently, a quiet exhalation of joy.
They make it to their first shop and Ino and Sakura immediately disappear into the deepest and darkest corner of the store, searching for the perfect material, the perfect traditional lace and silk. Hinata wanders far more slowly behind them, with Naruto in tow. They touch different swathes of fabric, playfully holding them up to one another and laughing at certain patterns that truly clash. Naruto, of course, likes them the most; especially the ones in orange and rust, with sunflowers in repeated pixels. Hinata lifts the material in front of her eyes and puts it back a moment later, laughing behind her hand.
“No,” she says, when he demands she put it in her hand basket. “We are not getting that fabric, Naruto-kun.”
Naruto purses his lips for a moment, eyes squinting, and then opens his mouth to unveil what Hinata is certain would be a truly creative account of why he absolutely needs that material. He barely gets a word out before someone clears their throat just a pace beside them, and Hinata turns to see a close group of older women smiling at them. Hinata immediately bows her head, as respectful and well mannered as always. Naruto, however, just says, “What’s up?”
“Oh, well,” one of the ladies says, pushing some of her graying hair behind a curiously small ear. “We were just a little surprised to run into the two of you here. Are you shopping together?”
“Yes,” Hinata answers her, smiling kindly. Naruto rubs idly a the back of his neck, and Hinata knows he’s already bored of the conversation but trying to be polite all the while. She also knows that he’s most definitely still thinking about the fabric.
“Well isn’t that just wonderful,” the woman says, and she gestures for the rest of her friends to step up beside her, coming closer to Hinata and Naruto both.
“We all really support the two of you, you know. Such good-hearted young people. Strong wills.” One of the other women says, her eyes trailing over to Hinata specifically. “And so kind.”
Hinata feels heat in her cheeks, her smile curling up a little higher. “Ah, thank you very much.”
“Mae guessed the closest,” the first woman says suddenly, and Hinata turns to her in slight confusion. “We were all so certain that it would be sooner, but she said that with you taking over your Clan and all, it would take longer.”
“I’m sorry,” Hinata says, after a long moment of trying to follow the woman’s train of thought. “I don’t quite understand.”
“Why,” the woman gasps, her smile brightening the entirety of her expression. Her friends flutter around her, cheery and blinking. “About you young ones getting married, of course!”
Hinata’s entire face flames with understanding, until she can feel the clamminess running down her neck. When she risks a glance up at Naruto, she finds a bead of sweat running down his sideburn. He lifts a hand to scratch at it, and in the next moment his eyes are squinting shut with the vivacity of his smile.
“Oh,” Hinata says, at a loss for words. “We’re not—”
“You’re right about that,” Naruto interjects, without looking at Hinata and her startled expression. “We’re waiting a little bit. I’ve only just barely gotten her to agree to go out with me, you know!”
“Oh please,” one of the women further back says gaily, playfully rolling her eyes. “As though our princess would ever turn you down!”
“I remember when she was just a tiny little thing, all eyes. She used to follow you around whenever she could find you—”
“Oh,” Hinata feels the breath pushed out of her lungs, embarrassment clawing up her neck with heat. She laughs a little at the reminder, and watches the way Naruto’s laughter starts from the base of his lungs and rises in peals through his throat.
“Yeah, I was a little slow to realize that. But I got there eventually, ne?”
Hinata wonders at the maturity in the words, and the way they seem to be prefacing something she and Naruto hadn’t even thought to talk about yet. It was just as the women and Naruto both had said: Hinata was busy with assuming the leading role of her clan, a languorous process of its own, and she and Naruto were still fresh in their relationship.
They had not talked about marriage, and Hinata still thinks it too soon to even debate it.
But Naruto’s words and the strength of his fingers wrapped so carefully around hers, well, they feel a bit like a promise. Like an answer.
“That’s true,” the woman named Mae says, giving Naruto a particularly critical glance, though it was edged in amusement. “You really took your sweet time returning her feelings, didn’t you?”
Hinata feels her heart pound unsteadily in her chest and glances up just in time to catch Naruto’s expression, quirked and flushed in embarrassment. He rubs at the back of his hair, mussing it up until it stands on end.
“You’re really putting me on the spot here, old lady.”
“Naruto-kun!” Hinata hisses, smacking his arm. He recoils playfully, and the women only laugh. “Don’t be rude.”
“I guess she’s right,” Naruto concedes with a sigh, his grin curled higher in one corner. “Kinda embarrassing to hear it, though.”
“Well,” the woman sniffs playfully, and she crosses her arms over her chest. “You two are truly adorable.”
“And we should probably let them be,” the woman from the back says, and she starts to shepherd her friends towards the store exit, offering one last wave before stepping through the doors.
Hinata turns to Naruto with cheeks aflame, and Naruto’s expression is almost a perfect mirror when he turns right back to her. They both burst into laughter until they recognize Ino’s voice chattering away and coming straight towards them, with Sakura step behind. They break through the hanging fabrics and the aisles and aisles of folded material and Sakura immediately says, “Are you guys making out in the corner? What did we tell you about PDA?”
Naruto groans, lets his head roll forward until his forehead rests on Hinata’s shoulder. She lifts a hand and rubs gently at the back of his neck, soothing little circles to accompany her quiet laughter.
“That was one time,” Naruto drawls from Hinata’s shoulder, still not moving even when Ino and Sakura walk past them and gesture for the exit. When Hinata starts to turn to follow them, Naruto finally lifts his head and there’s a new kind of gleam in his eyes.
He says, “But I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”
Hinata pretends like her heart doesn’t give a conciliatory thump against her ribs, and her ears are burning with embarrassed heat. “That’s exactly the kind of attitude that led us to being heckled like this, you know.”
“I know,” Naruto beams, reaching back to grasp her hand again. His palm is a little sweaty, and she thinks those older women really had grilled him, more than he ever let show. “And it would be so worth it again.”
Hinata shakes her head in amusement, and they follow Ino and Sakura back onto the street. The moment they turn the corner, people start calling out to them. Naruto mostly, but there are still the every now and again villagers that notice her first, from her striking eyes and even more striking robes. Naruto always presses a little closer to her when they call out to her, almost protectively, almost possessively, and it makes her knees feel weak.
Ino and Sakura swing their joined hands between them and continue down the street ahead of them even as someone moves out of the crowd like a shadow. Neither Naruto nor Hinata flinch at his sudden presence, because they’d know him anywhere, even without looking. Sasuke slides up beside them with his hands tucked into his pockets, head bowed slightly in boredom.
Naruto brightens, smile a little sharper. “Hey bastard, you get invited to the shopping spree too?”
Sasuke doesn’t respond with anything more than a pointed eye roll, entirely disdainful and aimed directly at Naruto. Hinata smiles, used to this interplay, and continues to walk between the two of them, Naruto’s hand in hers. She catches Sasuke studying their interlinked fingers, and follows his gaze even when he meets hers, unblinking. Her smile is a little shy, as it always is with Sasuke. He doesn’t say anything, but even the peculiar rise of a single eyebrow somehow makes her feel like he’s teasing her. She turns away from him and blows a puff of air out at her bangs, her free hand coming up to fan her heated face.
“It’s warm today,” she mumbles, and she refuses, refuses to look at Sasuke again to gauge what she knows will be an amused expression. Naruto swallows heavily at her side and says, “It really is.”
“It’s not,” Sasuke says, sounding far too smug. Hinata wants to roll her eyes at the tall man, but she also doesn’t want to turn to him and let him see how perfectly riled up and embarrassed he’d made her with so little effort.
Sakura turns over her shoulder and narrows her eyes at Sasuke, not surprised in the slightest to see him suddenly in their group.
“Nice of you to show up,” she says offhandedly, and the words are sharp but not in a way that Hinata thinks is actually dangerous. “Why are you walking with the lovebirds and not us?”
“Are you and Ino not lovebirds?” Sasuke responds, utterly deadpan. Sakura snorts and gets Ino’s elbow in her ribs for her trouble.
“We love each other,” Sakura agrees with another flip of her hair. “But we aren’t itching to constantly undress each other. Like some people we know.”
“Sakura-san!” Hinata hisses, lifting a hand to cover part of her face. Her skin is so fair, every single embarrassing remark shows up clear as day, stains of petal pink over the bridge of her nose and the roses of her cheeks.
Naruto is surprisingly quiet beside her, and when she chances another glance up at him, she immediately wishes that she hadn’t. He’s staring down at her in a way that directly proves Sakura’s remark correct, his eyes expressive and heavy and intent. Hinata turns way from him and tries to work on her breathing a little more, so Sasuke’s smirk might dwindle from his smug face. Sakura walks with a little added bounce in her step, and Ino glances over her shoulder with mischievously gleaming eyes, as though she’s biding her time for her own time to strike.
They make it to the next shop unscathed, and manage to pick up Rock Lee, who immediately dives into helping Ino and Sakura find the most durable and inexpensive but high-class fabric in the store. Sasuke idles around the perimeter of the store, and Hinata sees him pick up a square of fabric by the very tips of his fingers every few minutes, as if he can’t physically stop himself. He picks up every shade of black he finds, which are admittedly rare, but so typical. Hinata laughs aloud, and he glances up at her with sharp eyes and an upturned smirk, almost a pout. Payback is sweet.
Naruto pulls her to the opposite side of the store with an abrupt burst of intent, so much so that she wonders what might’ve caught his eyes. As it turns out, she thinks in flustered amusement, it was just her.
Naruto tucks her into the corner and immediately dips towards her, lips pressing against the hinge of her jaw. He whispers, “I want to kiss you and I don’t want to stop.”
Hinata’s smile drops off her face like a stone, and her heart’s playful flutter becomes more of an intent march towards the conclusion both of them want, and very nearly need. Naruto presses her into the corner and she lets him, she completely lets him, going slack in his arms and curling into his chest, her lips seeking and finding purchase on his strong jaw. She sucks carefully for only a moment, trying to control the pressure, but even still she pulls away and a little mark is left behind. She blinks at it in wonderment, then embarrassment, and Naruto pulls back to see her expression with heavy eyes.
He lifts a hand to the spot, the pads of his fingers trailing over it almost reverently, and hisses, “Unfair, Hinata.”
“What are the rules, then?” she asks, quieter than a whisper, than a breath. “Tell me.”
“You know there aren’t any for you,” Naruto rolls his eyes, crowding her further until the weight of his body was everything she had against her, until he was the only thing on her mind. “But I can’t leave marks that can be seen.”
The moment the words are out of his mouth, Hinata watches recognition spark in his eyes, fuel on flame, igniting. His smile is a slow unfurling of intent that promises everything her heart can barely take to handle, and he moves without hesitation to press his lips against her exposed collarbone. She hisses, negation already on her lips, but Naruto pushes the hem of her Kimono aside and starts sucking intently at the skin just over her breast, right over her heart, where the fabric would cover her skin once he straightened it back into place.
Hinata doesn’t have it in her to stop him, not when his left hand grips her hip hard enough to bruise, five distinct marks of passion and restraint that make her mewl. His right hand holds the fabric aside with careless dexterity, and Hinata bows against the pressure of his beautiful mouth.
She doesn’t know how long he stays there, but eventually he trails kisses up her chest, over her throat, and finds his way back to her lips. He sucks lightly at them until they’re bruised, and then he pulls back. His lips are just as swollen, red and plump and enough to send chills racing down Hinata’s spine. She raises a hand to push lightly at the wide expanse of his chest, easing him off and away from her so she can balance without the crutch of the wall behind her. She straightens her robes as best as she can, still breathing laboriously, and shoots a pointed, glaring look back up at Naruto when her collar doesn’t lie flat against her chest. It covers Naruto’s love mark well enough, but it’s apparent that it has been moved.
Naruto’s grin is every underhanded maneuver in a game of desire and boundaries they’ve been playing for months, and Hinata is as weak to it now as she always has been.
“You never said anything about clothes,” Naruto whispers, smiling with too many teeth.
Before Hinata can respond to that with something of a retort, Sasuke looms around the corner. She flicks her gaze to him, notes the pained expression, and immediately knows that he had walked in on their little game. If her cheeks hadn’t already bled red before, they would now. Instead of retreating into the wonder of Naruto’s chest like she desperately wants to, she lifts her nose and tries to appear unaffected by his blatant and amused discomfort.
He sighs, chest rising only to heave. “They didn’t like any of the fabric, and Lee went home crying. We’re moving to the next shop.”
Hinata and Naruto trail behind him, but not before he casts Naruto with a look that blatantly expressing something along the lines of you owe me.
When they make it through two more shops and Hinata has three more love marks hidden under her robes, and Naruto’s hair is unmistakably ruffled, like someone’s fingers have been running through it, she realizes that Ino and Sakura aren’t actually seriously looking for anything. She doesn’t know why it took her so long to catch on, especially when they picked up a new friend before and after every new store, and each and every one of them made a point to put she and Naruto on the spot for being blatantly ready to claw one another’s clothes off. There were a lot of offhanded remarks about how long it’d taken for this to happen—this being she and Naruto together—and a lot of them ended with eyes gleaming in mischief.
By the time she and Naruto make it back to his apartment, Hinata is already expecting the upcoming week to be more of the same. Ino and Sakura had demanded that they accompany them until they find the perfect material, and now that Hinata is privy to the underhanded plan her friends had set up, she’s perfectly aware that Ino and Sakura were pretty much putting she and Naruto on display.
Because they’re together. Because Hinata has been waiting so long for this reality, and Sakura and Ino are the two people in the world who know it best, and they want everyone to see it and realize it.
To actualize it.
It’s a silly and terribly convoluted plan to make Hinata both embarrassed and pleased, but it’s also sweet, in the way that Sakura and Ino and their dangerous plans can sometimes be. She really does appreciate it, though being trapped with Naruto in public, unable to do anything but steal kisses and touches in dark corners is honestly starting to feel less like a game and more like torture.
Or foreplay, Hinata thinks, as she and Naruto step through his front door.
They’re not even a step in when Naruto turns and pushes her against the door, clicking the lock into place and lips already pressing against the thundering beat of her pulse. She reaches up to his shoulders and holds on for dear life, her hands so small against the sheer bulk of him. He’d spent a lot of time growing taller, his muscles spreading lankily along limbs too long for his body.
But then he settled out, and his muscles began to grow firmer, more defined, stacking on top of already wide shoulders and a lithely defined waist. As Naruto continued to train and to fight on the warfront, he grew into his long limbs. He grew his hair out, too, long enough to be gather into a tail just over his nape.
Hinata, all the while, grew into her big hips and chest, her thighs more muscle than fat but still undeniably supple. No matter what kind of training she does, too, she can’t seem to get rid of her ass. It’s probably for the best, though. She’d made the mistake of asking Naruto if he knew any exercises to lighten the bulk and really tone back there, and he’d immediately lifted her by said rear and carried her to the bedroom to tell her all the reasons he really hoped she’d not try to get rid of it, though—
“It’s totally your choice of course,” he’d breathed, “But please do not get rid of your ass. I love that ass.”
And just like that, it was all too easy to grow comfortable with her body in all regards, most especially because Naruto touches her in a way that’s nearly reverent. He does so now, too, as he always does; his fingers slide carefully along the slope of her waist, fingers reaching to grasp carefully at her flanks. They pant against each other, citrus and mint, and Naruto lifts her into his arms until her hands slide into his hair and grip, and he pushes his forehead against her sternum, nosing at her breasts.
“Fuck,” he whispers when his lips slide over one of her already pebbled nipples, sending a jolt through her spine. She arcs against the door at her back, pushing her chest as close to Naruto as she can without falling away. Hinata lets him nuzzle against her for a few more moments before she tightens her grip in his hair, pulling his head away and looking down into his heavily-lidded eyes.
“Naruto-kun,” she says, voice low but steady. “Please.”
Naruto is already walking them towards his room, but he stops first to press her roughly against the hallway wall, accidentally upending a picture of Naruto and Iruka-sensei holding a bedraggled kitten. That same bedraggled kitten eyes them from the living room, eyes glowing in the shadows, tail swishing. Hinata closes her eyes and lets Naruto suck along her skin, making a necklace of bruises around her throat. She knows she’s going to suffer for it in the morning, when she has to wear a high collar under her robes the next day, but for now all she can think about is other places she might get to feel Naruto’s mouth.
She tightens her legs around his waist and he slides them away from the wall obediently, until Hinata is falling backwards, landing loftily on a feather-soft mattress scattered with sheets and cat hair. She hopes Konoha stays in the living room and doesn’t try to cuddle them again like he had last time things got heated and intimate in Naruto’s bedroom. Not that Hinata doesn’t love the little gray, but sometimes she wants to throw Naruto and herself around without worrying about accidentally kicking her favorite kitten.
“You’re distracted,” Naruto breathes against her collarbone, forehead pressed to her neck. He’s trembling over her, his left hand pinning her wrist to the bed by her head while his right hand slides over her navel, searching for the tie that will loosen every layer of her formal robes.
“Then make me focus,” she whispers, and she finds the tie for him, loosening the knot at her tailbone with a single flick of her wrist. Naruto puts his all into everything he does, and intimacy with Hinata is no different. He releases her wrist and she turns her head to watch the pale imprints of his hold smooth away from her skin, until she can see the red rings of them around her wrist. She takes in a shaky breath and turns back to him just as he starts spreading her robes apart until she’s lying naked on nothing but silk, the Uzumaki insignia facing upright at her hip.
Naruto drops to his knees between her legs and sucks lightly at the crease of her hip, moving slowly until he spreads her, too.
The first touch of his tongue against her is hot against hot and somehow, chills start to build and cascade down her spine. Her eyes squeeze shut on a jagged inhale and Naruto slides a finger over her clit before pressing gently into her. He doesn’t waste time in preparing her with one finger, because by now he’s learned that she likes the stretch of two, the slight burn that accompanies moving a little too fast. It’d taken months to remind him that he doesn’t need to ask if she’s okay, after the first time. Months of having to tell him she wanted him to be a little less gentle with her, that she won’t break, and that she wants him to lose control with her.
Naruto doesn’t ask if she’s okay, and he slips a second finger inside of her at the same time that he lavishes her with his tongue. He presses close enough that his nose touches her skin, and he moans against her. The vibrations send her writhing against him, hips wanting to rise, but weighed down by the arm he has banded over her wide hips.
“Oh,” she moans, lifting a hand to bite gently at her wrist. “Oh my God.”
She feels the beginnings of that ever familiar but always changing tingling sensation, knowable and unknowable all at once. It builds and builds while Naruto adds a third finger and bites gentle against her labia majora, playful and intent both. He thrusts his fingers at a steady and breakneck rhythm, thumb rubbing relentless circles over her clit, and something in her stomach catches like a flame. He lets her hips rise up from under the weight of his arm as her orgasm ripples through her; her voices catches around his name, breathed long and low into the night air.
She settles back against the sheets and lets her eyes stay closed for a moment longer, jolting every now and again as Naruto continues to press doting kisses to her most sensitive of places, then the crease of her hip, before his tongue delves into her navel. She looks down at him and catches his playful smile, but it’s overshadowed by the arousal in his dark eyes, cerulean pools of promise. She curls a finger at him, still trying to catch her breath even as he slowly crawls up the length of her body.
Her body feels too loose for her to control, but she has always been stronger than her body’s limitations. She didn’t become one of the most powerful shinobi in the village with a weak mind, or a weak will.
So it’s easy to grip Naruto by the ribs and throw him under her, until her ass rubs deliberately against his clothed erection. She leans down, breasts trailing ever so faintly against his chest, before sliding her way down his body until she can get her fingers in the waistband of his pants. She wastes no time in being playful—their entire day had been spent teasing, after all.
It’s easy and familiar, the weight of Naruto’s cock in her mouth. The sounds he makes are familiar, too, and they encourage Hinata to try harder, to move more deliberately, every slide of her tongue purposeful. Naruto grips the sheets with roughened palms and his back bows up against her technique, but his hips stay exactly where she pins them, her hands holding tight. She takes him all the way into her mouth and lets him feel the back of her throat, a careful fluttering of pressure as she swallows, then slides back up and off. Naruto chants her name in disjointed pleas, voice husky and rasping on every syllable, like he can barely manage to get the words out at all.
Hinata feels the tremors in his thighs and the watches the way his abs flex in a particular cascade, and a few quick moments later she swallows hot come, her eyes never leaving his upturned jaw. He melts back into the sheets and Hinata licks carefully at the head of him, watching as he jolts at the touch, in just the same way that she had with his fingers still pushing, even after her orgasm. She wipes at the corner of her mouth and climbs up the long length of his body, until she can rest her head on his shoulder, lips pressed against his throat. She rests her leg across his hips, feels his right hand come up and around her shoulders to pull her in closer. He turns his head and presses a kiss to her mussed bangs, the side of her forehead, and she can feel his languid smile.
“That was awesome,” he breathes, and Hinata puffs a quiet laugh against his heated skin. She traces a finger over a scar just under his nipple, one she wonders at often, since he usually heals too quickly and efficiently to scar. She gets distracted by the scar, though she hears the low rumble of Naruto’s voice. It takes him saying her name a few times, then asking if she’s sleeping before she focuses back on what he’s saying.
“Marriage?” She repeats, glancing up with wide-eyed wonder. He stares down at her fondly, his eyes heavy and doting.
He says, “Yeah. Do you know when you want to get married?”
“I don’t know,” Hinata admits, frowning a little. “Is this because of what those ladies were saying? There’s no rush, Naruto-kun.”
“I know, yeah,” he says, and his fingers trace indiscriminate patterns along her shoulder. “I just want you to know that I’ll wait, however long.”
Hinata doesn’t say anything to that, just presses closer to him and smiles against the muscle of his chest, wanting to get as close to him as she possibly can, in every way.
“Okay,” she breathes at last.
And it is.