A/N - Request fic for Moonlight1258 :) I hope you like it!
Kashi-Cookie-Monster
xxx
Edit A/N - I also now have a couple of stories available on Amazon under the name Astrid Knowles. Please please please buy them! :) x
This was a stupid idea.
Hatake Kakashi came to this realisation a few stories high, perched precariously on a thin tree branch that ought to snap at any moment, and that was layered in crisp autumn leaves to boot. Leaves that wanted to rustle and fall at the slightest movement.
There was no way that he was going to get away with this. He had no excuse, ridiculous or otherwise, and he was just spread out, lounging over the wood like a shiny flashing sign saying 'Please, oh pretty please push me out of this ridiculous piece of scenery and pummel me into the ground with your magnificent fists'. Had this occurred a few years ago, she probably would have.
Instead Kakashi watched on baited breath as she turned to him like a plant to sunlight, her narrowed eyes seeking him out with unerring precision. A hesitant, polite smile graced her features as she sauntered over to him, her hips sashaying as she stepped gracefully around her bed, swinging her res skirt to show him a hint of her firm thighs encased in her tight black shorts.
It was ridiculous to think that she had been wearing that exact uniform for years now and he had not noticed. She'd finished filling out quite a while ago, too.
Her jacket had been removed, and apparently her bindings too, for as Sakura leant to force open the stiff old window the material strained over her, conforming to the shape of perky nipples beneath. They were hardened into stiff little points that drew an audible gaso from the astounded jonin. Immediately, his eyes were drawn up to her face, scrutinising her to see if she had noticed. Judging by her flushed cheeks, she had.
"Sensei." She greeted softly, a single word spoken in a melodic tone that somehow made him cringe.
Well, it wasn't like you were going to do anything, his subconscious wheedled. So there is nothing to feel guilty about.
Of course, Sakura's eyes only narrowed further, and her sensei gulped. One hand rose uncomfortable to scratch at the back of his neck, his eye closed in a smile so that he would not have to keep eye contact with her.
Sometimes it was as if she could read his thoughts.
"So, why are you here? We got a mission or something?"
He lifted his eyelid again, only to find that Sakura had straightened and moved aside, presumably to make room for him. The catch was that now he was focused once more on the moulded material, and the round globes beneath.
"Do I need an excuse to see my favourite teammate?" He asked loftily, and perhaps rather defensively. He couldn't help it; his heart was pounding in his chest, he could hear it in his ears. He could feel sweat beneath his collar.
She knows.
"Actually I was thinking that we hadn't seen each other much in the last couple of weeks and could go out for a bite to eat."
"You're peckish and want to dump me with the bill?"
I want to take you on a date, and dump you on my bed.
"You know how important teammates are to me." He replied instead, his voice entirely even due to the truth in it. His teammates were important to him. And she was the most important of the lot. If there was anyone he wished to keep safe, it was her. On the battlefield or from drunk friends, he would keep her happy and healthy… and preferably his.
She softened, and despite his honesty he felt filled with a kind of emptiness that he couldn't quite call guilt. "Okay," She replied, and with her gentle eyes Kakashi melted, too. "Just give me a moment to get ready." She rolled her eyes. "And come in, will you? You look ridiculous and the neighbours will think that you're spying on them, you pervert!"
Although loud, her tone held none of the anger that it had once contained; instead it was somewhat playful, and Kakashi smiled beneath his tight black mask, leaping gracefully into her home and watching her unhurried movements with reverence.
Her words had been fairly accurate, but it hadn't been the neighbours that he had been interested in.
Hungrily he refused to blink, his sharingan burning beneath the headband, begging him to remove the the thick material and commit the sight to memory. The way that her fingers brushed against her pale, delicate ankles as she tugged on her shoes, stroking up the lower part of her calvers as she then lifted said hands away and rose, the contours of her body displaying themselves as she straightened. The way that her breasts were pushed together then her nipples covered by the jacket as she zipped it up.
Kakashi gulped, forcing his body to remain calm as they left Sakura's apartment. Beneath her top, she was still bare.
The next time, it wasn't her bedroom. Her flat was in the corner of the building, allowing for a bathroom window as well as the living area and bedroom.
Oh, what a mistake purchasing that apartment had been for her.
She usually left that window unlocked, instead only warded by chakra signitures; hers and those closest to her, who may need to deliver her butchered body back home after a tough mission.
His.
He knew full well that if he went to the bathroom, there would be no scratching at the door like a desperate puppy, oh no. He could simply enter and then seek her out. Once he was there, she wouldn't get rid of him, would she? That was what he was going to do.
That and nothing else.
There was no reason for way that he still stood outside; no, he was seeing if she was busy.
It's just polite to check that I'm not interrupting something. I'll go in in a moment.
It was evening, the sun low and a gentle breeze rushing through his clothing as he peeped through the small, partially open window. It had always been a contortion to get in; he wasn't built like Sakura. This was probably why the bathroom was the window that she had chosen. So that it would allow her in, and keep someone of a slightly more portly stature out.
She had already changed clothes, her dirtied training clothes tossed aside in favour of more feminine pyjamas. He could see them in the laundry basket.
He could see the pyjamas on the body that stood beside the sink.
The water ran loudly, running over Sakura's cupped palms and then down into the plug hole as she splashed the cool liquid against her face. She'd been back several hours, and Kakashi watched as she cautiously pressed the pads of her fingers into the corners of her eyes, rubbing away sleepydust as she yawned.
He could also still see the thick trail of dirt on her neck from where he had dragged her down. So really, it shouldn't have been a surprise when he saw the edges of her shirt lift, offering him the sight that his pounding heart and throbbing cock had been waiting patiently to see.
He couldn't take it.
It was so wrong... in so many ways and yet it was what he wanted most with every fibre of his being. For the first time since he had been an adolescent he was filled with want harsh and building and, oh, burning through him. Long since dulled to the reality of a female form, Kakashi Hatake lived vicariously through his characters, the refuge that he originally took after the loss of his first love, one that he had wished to give up his friend.
He had been nothing without them.
His sensei had been his idol, the absolute goal that he hadn't been able to reconcile with the cruel opinions that people cast apon his father. The characters were built by their counterpart's love for them, the absolute adoration, the place of pride that they held in another's heart regardless of their shape or their actions. In Jiraiya's work, the rogue characters found forgiveness and purpose. Through readiing them he could put himself in their places, finding pride in the actions that he wished so desperately were his own. It wasn't the people, their acheivments or appeareance that appealed to him. It wasn't even their vocation; while a dedicated ninja he had built up a collection of stories for all careers. It wasn't the person that mattered, it was the love that they were given by another, and the love that they then returned.
It wasn't the wondrous unveiling of bodies that usually intrigued him, just a small flash of the pale skin of her flat stomach that burned itself into his memory before he, frightened, turned tail and fled.
The next time, he didn't leave. Knowing full well what he was wanting to do he hardly bothered to justify his actions, instead feeling giddy with the thoughts of her, his lovely Sakura, nude in the dim light of her bathroom. When she stood by the sink, she would be directly under the lightbulb as she stripped, giving him his own little show, posing her body as she stood unaware. He could see her doing that; removing first her shirt only to stretch and twist and turn in the mirror, focused purely on finding and eradicating any imperfections. Changed as she was, she was also the girl who had been dieting herself to exhaustion when she first joined his team.
The critique would push her breasts out, rising them into prominence as she tried to make them appear bigger to her own eyes. They would swell and push to escape the material encasing them; if she had been wearing anything under her shirt at all. After that meal shared together, weeks ago, Kakashi couldn't take his mind off them. He would catch himself ogling her while they trained, his eyes burning through her thick jacket, wondering if she would take it off and allow him to see.
He wanted to. He wanted to see them clothed in nothing at all.
It would be her shorts next, or jeans if she hadn't been training.
Anticipation coursed through him as he landed beside the window, just out of sight should his pink haired infatuation notice the presence and decide to look outside. He waited patiently, refusing even to breathe should his breathing alert her. Beneath the sound of his heart pounding, he heard her shower running and made himself known.
He peeped through the tiny window, hardening quickly and painfully at the sight of her, her perfect skin wet and shielded from him only by the suds of her body wash as they ran down her perfectly pale and oiled skin. Over her breasts they went, lingering around her nipples like decorations around the perfect peaks. The same trail snaked down as he wanted to; from her neck, over her collar bone and breasts and then down between her thighs with his tongue.
Without warning, her sponge slipped from her hand and her backside was bared exquisitely to him as she bent down to pick it up, her legs parted slightly to allow him a glimpse of what lay between.
God, he wanted her.
He wanted to join her in there, and rinse all of the soap off of her, running conditioner-covered fingers through her short pink locks. He wanted to dry her afterwards, holding her tightly to keep her warm.
This wouldn't happen if he entered. Oh, no. He would be refused, never to get close enough to smell her skin again.
When the movements of her body became more hurried, and her hands drifted closer and close to intimate areas, he didn't allow himself to watch. Instead he jumped aside, his whole body tense for an exertion that wasn't going to happen, and waited in the tree that sat in front of her bedroom, hiding himself among the denser area of branches, so that he would not be seen.
It was a while before she emerged, towel tucked tightly beneath her armpits.
It would have been quicker, had I been there.
Water droplets still clung to her as she removed the towel and patted herself down, displaying herself painfully to him as she parted her legs to dry them.
Ignoring his cock now was not easy.
She discarded the towel quickly, only dried in a haphazard manner, and reached for the bottle of moisturizer that lay on her bedside table; one that he was ashamed to say he had used as an impromptu lubricant in the past. It was thick and white as it slowly coated her hand, and he barely suppressed a groan as she seated herself down onto her bed. She raised her leg until it was vertical, holding it as if in a stretch as she took her time drowsily rubbing masses of the substance into her already smooth and creamy skin.
Just when he thought he'd been spared the torture, the other leg rose while the freshly moisturized one fell. Just as slowly this one was rubbed and then the remaining liquid removed from her hands by means of her torso and neck.
Unable to stand it, and knowing that she would likely close the curtains some time soon, Kakashi went home to take care of his stiff cock, fisting it tightly and jacking off firm and fast, images of Sakura's sweet smile and gentle eyes filling his vision as he came, coating his hand and belly in his warm liquid, wishing beyond anything that he could be with Sakura. It hadn't been a fantasy of her, legs spread and nipples covered in love bites as she took his cock that pushed him over. That would have been usual for him; the fabricate images of her licking him or stroking herself, his cum covering her made up face. Instead it was the simple sweetness, of her usual, lovely appearance, her happiness. Somehow that felt worse, more disrespectful that an interchangeable image that just happened to hold her face.
He'd also never felt closer to her. All of a sudden, she seemed obtainable. If it were truly her smiles and laughter that her loved, couldn't he gain that just by being near her, by watching her and endeavoring to bring those simple little quirks of her lips for himself. They were a beauty, and one that ought to be shared.
It was dark out, now, but he cleaned himself up and dressed, unable to leave while he still felt dirty. He barely bothered to ward his apartment when he left it; what did its safety matter when he was not present? He was going home, drawn to her as much by his innocent desire than his more treacherous ones.
She was asleep when he got there, curled tightly in an innocent fetal position, half of her body poking out from beneath her thick duvet, offering him the sight of the black satin teddy that she wore, her hair spread out onto the extra pillows beside her. Silently, with the ease of his profession his took down the wards that he himself had put up, just as easily lifting them again behind him as his feet set down on her bedroom floor. He moved slowly, almost as if frightened, across the room to watch her.
She looked completely out of it, like a storm would not wake her. But what about one unexpected man? What effect would that have?
His eyes on her and fear coursing through him, Kakashi took his time letting the mattress accept his weight, making certain that he didn't jolt her. He remained half seated a while, waiting for her to awake and accuse him of all things wrong, but when it didn't happen he lay, burrowing his nose against her clean hair, inhaling deeply with the wish that he could draw her close and surround himself in the scent of her, instead of sniffing pathetically at a lock of hair that had strayed from the rest. He wanted to sleep beside her, content that nothing would come of it.
He would be gone before she woke. She would never have to know.
He woke better rested than he'd been in a long time, her small arm tucked tightly around him and her face below his chin, and smiled mournfully.
But then, he didn't see the soft smile on her face as she took in the sight of him before he woke up, pulling him tighter to her and knowing that when she woke again, he would probably be gone.
R&R