#// the thrill of battle being a taste of death that set him aflame

[b0kksu]

It's been so fun to come back to Satoru but not only that receiving such a welcoming embrace on his portrayal is just lovely. There's also been some deeply amusing moments when discussing how his emotional state is literally just, if I do not act silly or joke about this - I'm going to start screaming and idk when I'll stop.

[kikyozoldyck]

ENTROPY

PAIRING: senju tobirama x uchiha!reader SUMMARY: the gradual decline into chaos WARNINGS: swearing, degradation, dirty talk, cheating, cunnilingus, mildy dubious consent (just bc verbal consent isnt given), 

"Even a simpleton could see the way that Senju dog looks at you."

Madara's smooth, dry voice stops Tobirama just before he rounds the bend to the corridor hosting your medical ward. His spine locks, jaw clenching with unease.

"Dearest elder brother, I feel it prudent to remind you that he is a married man." A short, meaningful pause, your voice lilting through the torch-lit air. "And that his wife is employed at this very hospital."

Madara scoffs, and Tobirama's gut churns.

"It is how the Senju are," your brother spits, his voice echoing gently throughout the unusually silent halls. "A Senju has no true lover, as a beast has no true mate. Why do you think he and Hashirama differ in appearance so?"

Fists bunched at his sides, Tobirama rounds the corner, his shadow breaking harsh and abrupt against the torchlight.

"Lord Senju." You blink at his entrance, only mildly startled, your dainty hands falling from Madara's newly healed abdomen, your chin rising. "Are you in need of medical aid? I was just finishing with my brother. I shall be with you in a moment."

"It would seem I injured my shoulder in the last battle. Thank you," Tobirama nods, then, not knowing why he feels the need he calls you by your first name.

(Or perhaps knowing why but being unable to admit to it.)

Madara stands, eyeing Tobirama with barely contained fury as he does so. Your fingers twitch in empty air as you turn your gaze toward him. "Elder br—."

"Watch yourself, Tobirama." Madara's voice comes out low and tight. "That is the Lady of Uchiha with whom you assume such audacious familiarity – my sister."

"Of course, Madara." Tobirama inclines his head in deference, but there's an air of boldness to it. "I wouldn't dare presume familiarity with anything of yours."

"Elder Brother," You say again, your voice soft and warning, this time laying a hand on his arm.

Tobirama glances at the motion with a knowing smirk, before his gaze alights on you once more. "Apologies for any transgression, my lady."

Something in the way his mouth forms the words seems strikingly inappropriate — brazen in its fondness. You have to tighten your grip on Madara's arm to keep him from lunging.

"Touch my sister — even look at her again with those foul eyes of yours — and I'll have your head, Senju, do you understand me?"

Tobirama blinks steady, unfazed eyes at him. You suck a sharp breath between your teeth, "Madara, please."

Madara snarls once more, his tenebrous eyes purposely set to Tobirama's, letting the silence speak for him. He takes his leave before any of you can say more.

A steady silence pervades the corridor in his wake, the flicker of torchlight licking heat at your backs.

"Sit, Lord Senju." You finally tell him and gesture to the newly empty cot, "remove your coat as well."

He shrugs out of his coat, folding it over the backs of one of the empty chairs, and takes a seat.

"Thank you for your aid, Lady Uchiha." He says as he does so, "I imagine you have been quite busy as of late and are eager to return home."

"It is no detriment. As I have said before, you are my compatriot, it is my honor and duty to assist you. Though, as your compatriot, may I offer you some advice?"

Tobirama blinks at you, catching the unbidden heat in your eyes, the slight flare of your nostrils, the heavy rise, and fall of your chest.

"I welcome any counsel you may offer, my lady."

"As thrilling as it may be to a brain as small as your own, you must stop goading my brother on." You tell Tobirama, pausing for a moment, hands moving to smooth over imaginary wrinkles in your skirt, "one day, he will strike you down where you stand. He's killed better men for less."

"Lady Uchiha, I must admit I am quite flattered by your concern." Tobirama narrows his eyes, a rare smile finding itself on his lips, "but you may rest assured. I'd sooner fear my own shadow than your elder brother."

"You jest," you frown, stalking off to the side and crossing your arms, "but every morning when he wakes, he lights a candle in hopes for your death."

"And you?" He asks, his voice heavy with something unfamiliar even to himself, "Do you light candles with such morbid intention?"

"No. Why would I?" You huff your incredulity, arms uncrossing as you stalk back to him. "The war is over, our two sides have become one. Battle prowess such as yours would be a shame to lose."

"I killed your brother. That is why Madara despises me so, is it not?"

"It is." You concede, "but I have come to learn the reason Izuna has died while you live, and it has granted me peace."

"And what, may I implore, is this reason?"

"The souls of good men are the finest spoils of war."

He stops, rears back. "Am I not a good man?"

You seem to hesitate a moment, mouth opening and then closing.

"No. Lord Senju, you are not."

"May I inquire what lead you to this conclusion?"

"To begin," You step closer, and gesture towards the space between you, "you are here with me feigning a medical emergency instead of with your wife, in your marriage bed."

"And why," It comes out more like a warning than a question, and he can see how your shoulders straighten at the tone, "do you think that is? "

You look off to the wall. "Honestly, my lord, I am unsure. I do not presume to understand the intricacies of your marriage. "You reply as he stands, your eyes drifting cautiously back to his.

His chest hums with his frustration as he steps even closer, close enough to reach out and grasp you if he so pleased.

(Does he?)

"What does your dearest elder brother say?" he snaps, sneering the familiar phrase with vitriol so acute he can taste it on his tongue.

He can see the muscles in your throat work as you swallow. He's close enough to you to hear it.

Tobirama runs a hand through his hair roughly, his jaw tight with aggravation. "Surely, you have sought his counsel on the matter?"

You seem almost ready to speak it, and then something passes over your face that he doesn't recognize. You're stepping back, out of his proximity, head shaking, and he moves before he can stop himself. He grabs for you, catching you by your arms and dragging you back against him.

He's just so tired of this quiet, violent game between the two of you.

"Tell me," he growls, and the feeling is heady in its fervency.

You stare him down, mouth a harsh frown. You don't resist his hold — though you both know you easily could — you don't ease into it either. “He says that you lust after me."

(Distantly, he understands that it's shame he should be feeling, perhaps regret, maybe even indignation if it weren't true.

And that's the hindrance, though, is it not?

Because it is true.)

Somehow, it's only keen anticipation that fills him. Were he a good man, he'd stop right now — this very instant — and return home to his wife, slip into their bed and never think of this night again.

(But were he a good man he would have never deemed to so fervently crave what he shouldn't in the first place — namely you.)

Tobirama draws a slow breath in through his teeth, glancing down to your plush, parted lips for a single, illuminating moment. He almost curses himself because when he looks back up, there's the imperceptible widening of your eyes and the gentle quickening of your breaths.

He pulls you tighter to him. "What else?" he bites out, because fury is easier, fury is an acceptable smokescreen. And he finds that wrath is an effortless cover for desire.

(He doesn't let himself think too long on why that is.)

"Lord Senju, you are being —"

"What else?" he barks, suddenly aflame, and he isn't sure whether it's ire or desire that truly lights his bones this time.

"What is the matter with you?" You squirm in his grasp, scandalized. "Unhand me right now, you scoundrel."

But you aren't looking him in the eye, and your struggle is half-hearted at best.

(If he looks closely, he'd be able to see the faint dusting of pink coating your cheekbones, the girlish flutter of your eyelashes, and the tight curl of your shaking fists.

But he can't.)

He's too busy watching how torchlight catches along your collar bone above the modest cut of your yukata. "What else?" he rasps out, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. He suddenly realizes this was a mistake, a mistake he can't find in himself to undo. He's glancing back to your face, catching the sharp cut of your widened eyes against his own.

"Nothing that is of any importance to you." You arch against his hold.

"Now, Lady Uchiha, we both know that is untrue." Tobirama scoffs, stepping into you. You stumble back with the motion, and he follows. "Tell me what depraved things your elder brother whispers in your ear about me." 

It's a challenge, he knows, and even still, he's alight with anticipation at the prospect of such vulgar words staining your lips. His cock stirs even at the thought, his control wavering dangerously as he holds you, presses into you, guides you slowly back to the cot.

He watches as something steels in your gaze, and you stop your backward tread, mouth firming into a thin line.

"He says it's your Senju blood that gives you such unsanctified cravings."

Tobirama barks a laugh, the fervor high and vibrant in his tone. It overtakes him. "My Senju blood, hm?" His hands flex along your arms, sliding lower, slipping toward your waist with more surety than he's touched even his own wife with. He's delirious with it suddenly – this potent hunger, this violent fury. As he watches you glower up at him, he thinks that perhaps he isn't the only one. He thinks this because you don't voice your protest when his hand settles at your midsection, his fingers gripping at your waist like a threat. "Then what is it, Lady Uchiha, that grants you your own…unsanctified cravings?"

You push at his chest, your outrage splashing along your cheeks. "If you think that I would crave an unprincipled miscreant like yourself, then you are truly twice the fool I thought you were."

"I assure you, I am not stupid." Tobirama's fingers curl into the fabric of your yukata, holding you flush against him. "And though I may not possess the demon eyes of your clansmen, I am far from blind. I've seen the way you look at me. I've felt the way you covet me. Deny it if you please, Lady Uchiha, but the truth is known."

You bare your teeth, your wrathful hiss breaking against the heavy air between you like a deadly promise. "I have never —"

"Never what? Never entertained the idea?" His hands are trembling fiercely at your sides, his lungs struggling under the weight of his own aphrodisia. "Never touched yourself to the thought of me? A married man. The same one who slaughtered poor Izuna."

"You truly are a bastard," your eyes narrow dangerously.

(The snarl that leaves him has your mouth parting, your throat flexing beneath a soft whine, one so sweet he fears he will fall down dead if he never hears it again. He wants to catch the hitch of your breath between his teeth and drag his tongue long and slow against your untouched throat until you're whining low and breathless at his ear.)

He wants it so violently he's shaking with it.

(It's such a pretty little picture. The Senju Lord. The Uchiha Lady. Surely this was his brother's intention when founding Konoha was it not?)

"You needn't be ashamed," he breathes just above your mouth, walking you back until your legs hit the cot, "it is only natural for a whore like yourself to be plagued with such…sordid thoughts."

You stare him down with a heat so intense that it has him hardening instantly.

"That is why your brother frets, isn't it?" he whispers lowly, like a threat, like a promise he's spent too long trying not to break. "Any dutiful brother would, what with a sister who lusts like a bitch in heat."

(And here's the truth of it all:

You never say no.

You never still his hands — though you so easily could. You never do anything but mold into his embrace — even when you're glaring at him so malevolently. Even when you're holding the cut of your words behind a practiced tongue.)

You lick your lips, ignoring the avidity with which he watches your mouth. "Lord Senju." There's still anger lining your tone, still, bite behind your words. But there's something else there too, isn't there?

"Your brother has declared me a beast," he slips a hand boldly up your side. His thumb brushing the edge of your breast so barely it could be called a mistake. His fingers sweep languidly along your collarbone – a thrum of possessiveness to the motion. "So perhaps I shall fuck you like one, hm?"

You gasp against him, your body rocking into his zealously even as your nails dig crescents into his arms with your indignation. He holds his hips to yours, his desire apparent. You don't quite collar the moan that leaves you when you bite down on your lower lip. A beast he may be, but you're the one gripping him to you. You're the one not letting go.

It sets his skin ablaze, his body racked with instant heat, a coil of desire anchoring low and sharp in his gut. "Lady Uchiha," he says on a dangerous exhale, the hand along your chest dragging up your throat to grip your jaw in his haze. His hold is firm and unrelenting, his fingers digging into your skin. He brushes a thumb along your parted lips, eyes trained to the motion. He pants raggedly above your mouth. "You never quite told me what your brother has accused me of – what vile thoughts I must entertain." Another swipe of his thumb.

You drag a heated breath through your lungs, chin tilting high.

(And it really is an easy guilt to bear, he thinks – this desire, this shameful hunger. Easier now that he can see the same sinful need in your eyes.)

Tobirama licks his lips, his thumb pressing harder at your bottom lip, the edge of your teeth grazing his skin and your tongue — your tongue, right there —

"Or will you tell me that a lady of your stature cannot repeat such utter filth?" Tobirama groans, dipping his thumb just past your lips, feeling the wet heat of your breath splashing across his skin. "That this prim and proper little mouth of yours could never speak such blatant obscenities, hm?"

Something darkens in your eyes. A sharp clarity – a single flare in the shadows of the medical ward, and — instantly — Tobirama knows there is no going back now.

Slow and sure, with your eyes never leaving him, you press your tongue to the pad of his thumb at your mouth, your lips parting in invitation. You never blink. The groan that leaves him echos through the empty room, his hips bucking into yours unconsciously as he dips his thumb into the heat of your mouth. You take his thumb between your lips, curling your tongue around his knuckle and sucking long and slow, drawing back until you release him with a dull pop.

He's staring at your spit-shined lips, transfixed, panting, drunk on his own arousal.

"He told me that beasts such as yourself take what they want."

It's all the confirmation he needs.

The hand along your hip moves to the obi of your yukata, tugging impatiently.

Your hands slink deep into his hair as you move your mouth to his cheek, your breath hot and wet at the shell of his ear. "He told me that you'd part my legs without hesitation – that you'd take your fill again and again and again."

Tobirama snatches the loosened material of your yukata from your shoulder. Tearing holes in the diaphanous silk in his hurry to press his mouth to your bared shoulder with a feral bite. You throw your head back, a keening cry breaking from your lips.

"What else?"

"He told me you'd fuck me without restraint."

In a single, furious swipe, he drags the torn fabric from you, leaving you in your hadajuban. You step from the fabric easily, and then your hands are pulling at his breastplate shirt, helping him loosen it, dragging it over his head, and then doing the same with his tunic. His hands still halfway through, unlacing his breeches, his cock straining against the fabric. You grab him by the face, leveling your gaze to his, your flushed chest rising and falling so quickly he's lightheaded at the motion.

"He told me that you'd ruin me for any other man — mark me in ways too vile for me to even fathom."

It overtakes him – this insanity, this desperation so stark and vibrant it lights his tongue with delirium when he kisses you, hard and needy and wrong. So wrong, it's got him crashing into you. His large hands dug into your hair, teeth-gnashing against yours, tongue hot and wet in your mouth as he falls into you. He collapses you to the cot, a fumbling mess of limbs and gasps and yes, please god, yes.

He's already rucking up your hadajuban. Already palming at your thighs, shoving his hips so roughly between yours that the cot creaks beneath the strain.

"Say my name," he pants against your bruised lips, licking at them like a starved wolf.

You arch against him, one hand dug into his hair, the other fisting in the bedding at your head. 

Tobirama snarls into your mouth, biting down on your lip, rutting into you, his cock achingly hard against the slip of your underclothes. "Say it," he demands again. This time harsher – this time with the kind of desperation that has him bracing his forehead to yours, panting at your mouth, gripping at your hips with bruising fingers.

You dart your tongue out to taste him, licking into him, up along the roof of his mouth, and slowly back out. He wraps a hand around your throat, urging you face to the side, his teeth sinking into the skin just below your ear. You keen at the brutal swipe of his tongue along your sweat-soaked skin.

"Say it," he releases your neck with a hiss, fingers scrambling for your underclothes. He drags them down past your knees, and you raise your hips instinctively, letting him claw them off of you.

Your voice catches in your throat, arms sliding around his shoulders to keep him to you. Finally, you whisper: "Tobirama" Then, his fingers are dipping into your cunt so abruptly and unexpectedly that you arch off the bed like a strung bow, mouth parting in a silent cry.

Tobirama groans your name into your neck, fingers sliding out just enough to plunge back in, swift and brutal. Again and again, without mercy. "How wet you are." He hums, appreciatively, "is it all for me?"

"Yes," you whine, tongue flicking out against his ear. Tobirama growls into your skin, fucking you harder with his fingers. You cry out, a broken sob catching, nails digging into his shoulder blades, his scalp.

Tobirama pushes his cock into the mattress for some relief, for any kind of relief, aching and tight and breathless. "Will you — will you allow me to taste you?"

You nod dizzily, and then he's dragging his body down the length of you. His mouth setting kisses over your shoulders, your collarbone, stopping for a moment to bite softly at your nipples before trailing down your stomach. Before you can even breathe his name, before you can also process the pressure of his palms pulling your dampened thighs apart, Tobirama buries his face between your legs and swipes his tongue slowly up your soaking cunt, harsh and firm and greedy. He moans into you with abandon, desperate to be deeper, to have you rutting against his mouth like an animal.

"Fuck!" You shout, one trembling hand latching onto his head instinctively. His hips jerk at the sudden break in your composure, at the breathless grunts leaving you.

He opens his mouth over your dripping cunt, dragging his tongue up and down your slit once more, sucking at your folds, your clit, lavishing in the ambrosial nectar that seeps from between your thighs. He moans into your heat with a hunger that shakes you. Rutting into the bed in time to his licks, eating you out like a man absolutely fucking starved, your slickness coating his lips and cheeks, his chin drenched in your juices.

He tongue fucks you so roughly, so sharp and hard and ravenous that your hips are arching up off the bed. You chase the heat of his mouth, grinding down on his tongue, the heavy, ragged sound of his breathing lost beneath the gush of your slickness. His fingers dig into your hips, dragging you into him, keeping your cunt flush against his mouth, his tongue licking you up with a deep-seated groan, drowning in your harsh pants. 

He's completely and utterly lost in you, so absolutely soaked from your sopping cunt, the taste of you, that pungent, slick taste of you and he can't get enough, can't fuck you deep enough with his tongue, and so he dips two fingers into your heat, groaning at the broken sob that drags from your lips, curling his fingers tight and sharp, anchoring you through the violent shudder that racks your entire body, teeth catching on your clit, pushing deeper, eating you out so loudly and obscenely he thinks he may just cum from the sounds as you fuck yourself on his mouth. You twist your fingers in his hair as your thighs tremble at his ears, and he has to look up at you, has to watch you fucking his mouth, wild and shameless and so sinfully wet he's close to drowning in you.

He has to see if you're watching as this Senju beast eats your cunt with hunger so savage he could cum into the bedsheets right there.

Tobirama catches your gaze through the sweat-damp fringe of his hair, your eyes sharp and brilliant and intent on his own, your bare chest rising and falling heavily, your lips bruised from where you've bitten them too harshly, and he watches as your head falls back against the pillow, your hips arching higher, angling off the bed, and the sheets are soaked beneath you, and yet somehow, through the haze of his own mindless moans, and the broken, breathless whines spilling from your mouth, and the slick, loud flush of his tongue along your cunt, over and over – he hears it.

A murmur at first – hesitant, low. And then louder, surer, until he recognizes the sharp edges of your voice, your begging, your fervent commands.

"Fuck me, Tobirama. Please. Oh, Gods. Oh, please." A desperate groan leaves you as you curls your fingers in his hair, grinding against his mouth shamelessly. The sheer vulgarity of the words coming from your mouth makes his cock unbearably harder. "Fuck me like the beast you are. Please."

Tobirama stops abruptly, his breathing ragged, fingers going still where they're buried in your cunt, coated in your slick, arousal. You howl at the interruption, arching impossibly sharp, clawing at his scalp, your gaze whipping down to his. "Why have you—" you pant, eyes gone wild and unfocused, cheeks flushed. "What are you —"

You blink down at him, your face going pale as you realize what you've said, and Tobirama stares at you, still impossibly hard, still ready to finish you off with the brutal swipe of his tongue against your trembling cunt, until he catches the firm press of your lips, the sharp glint in your eye as you keep your heated gaze to his, the way you pant without shame, without regret.

You won't take it back.

And suddenly — blindingly — Tobirama realizes that he doesn't want you to.

Something splinters in him, clawing its way out his throat, thrumming dangerously through his veins. He slips from you, ignoring the way you whimper in his absence. His hands fumble for the half-done laces of his breeches, dragging them down his thighs, his cock springing free, already seeping at the tip, already harder than he's ever been. "Come here," he snarls, one hand hooking around your ankle and dragging you down the rickety cot.

You yelp at the jarring motion, moving to rise but got his mouth is on your breast, smearing your slick over your flushed skin. His teeth scrape a nipple so sharply you cry out before he clamps down on you, sucking eagerly—his other hand palming at your other breast roughly. There is no forgiveness in his touch, no mercy behind his tongue. Your whines only grow louder.

"Tobirama," you pant, tugging at his hair, "please."

He moans long and low along the slope of your breast, his tongue swirling over your nipple once, twice, almost languidly, before releasing you. You have only a moment to catch your breath, reaching for him, but he only shoves your hands away, grabbing at your thighs.

His hands dig into your hips with a savage need as he tugs you, turning you to flip over, one of your calves dragged over by his calloused palm. He's urging you, guiding you, steadying you as you stumble along with your knees, your hands bracing against the sweat-drenched sheets, and it's a graceless claw of limbs as he yanks you back against his throbbing cock, your palms slipping along the bedding, the wet slap of skin jarringly loud in the room, his following groan drowning out the blood rushing in his ears.

(Distantly, he recognizes how pliant you are in his hands, how eager your moans, how you allow him to touch you with all the sinful ferocity he's denied himself these many moons.

He knows now – even if you'll never say it – he knows now he isn't the only one.)

Tobirama winds one hand around your hip, and then further, fingers fumbling for your engorged clit. You bite off a shriek as he pinches the nub, bucking into you from behind. You push back into him seamlessly, tilting your head back so that your sweat-soaked hair catches along the back of your bitten neck, spilling over your other shoulder.

"How could I ever deny a request spoken so earnestly?" he growls along your shaking spine, fingers slick along your folds.  He bends over you with a fierce single-mindedness that blacks out any other thought but heat and wetness and you. Tobirama drags a greedy palm down the length of your back, curving over your ass, kneading the flesh, fingers bruising as he bites down on your shoulder blade. "It would be my pleasure to fuck you, my lady, in fact, I believe I may be honor-bound to do so."

You cry out, arching against him, pushing your sodden cunt into his hand.

"You like that, don't you?" His cock slides against your folds, coated in your slickness, so fucking hard it's near painful. He pushes the tip into the heat of your cunt, a sharp breath sucked between his teeth. And then you release a huff of impatience, reaching between you to wrap your delicate fingers around the rest of him, hurriedly guiding him into your dripping cunt.

Tobirama releases a low, shuddering groan, buried suddenly and deeply inside you, his teeth catching along your spine. "You are so, ngh, warm, so tight." He pulls nearly completely out, a heated hiss breaking through his barred teeth, before plunging back in, slamming into you so hard you rocks with it, a soft gasp clawing its way out of your lungs. He places a hand along your back and pushes you down, one of his knees nudging yours apart until you fall near flat to the thin woolen bedsheet, braced on your elbows, his other hand trapped between your cunt and the cot. He grinds into you, even deeper than before, rubbing at your clit desperately.

You groan his name – a wet exhale breaking against the sheet by your face.

"You like a beast between your legs, don't you?" he growls above you, lowering himself until his chest is pressed flush against your back. "What would your brother say were he to walk in now and find his darling sister being so thoroughly debauched?" he gets out on a choked gasp. His hips crashing into your own, "and by the man who killed Izuna, no less."

"Fuck you," you spit, glaring over your shoulder, gaze heated and dark, "what, ngh, what of your wife? What would she say if she found you reveling in the taste of my cunt? I somehow doubt you fuck her with half as much ferver."

"You would be correct. My wife is no whore. Therefore, she needn't be fucked like one." Tobirama bites down on your shoulder, silencing you but for your moans. "You, however…"

In a pique of indignant fury, you push uselessly back with your weight on your elbows. Even as you arch into him, even as you suck your lip tightly between your teeth and moans.

Tobirama drives into you with a punishing pace, his cock slamming into your slick cunt as he rubs at your clit, his hand still caught between your body and the cot. "You need it. It is truly all you are good for. How long have you wanted this, whore? How long have you wanted me buried so deeply in that tight little cunt of yours, that pretty little Uchiha cunt – it is so full of my cock, so fucking — nggh. Only I can satiate that starving little cunt of yours, you know that, don't you? Only me. Only my Senju cock can make you feel this way." Tobirama winds a hand around your throat, fingers clawing up your jaw, searching for the wet heat of your mouth, again. His weight bears down on you fully, pressing you completely into the cot, into his fingers, the pool of your slickness drenching the sheets and his hand alike, and it's like he can taste you again, his tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth with his moan. Two of his fingers curl over your lip, your ragged pants hot against his flesh, and you curve your tongue around his fingers instinctively, taking them into your mouth.

He fucks you even harder then, the groan dragging from him. His teeth sink into your shoulder, as he nearly cums right then as he grunts out your name. "Yes, that's it. You would take my cock between those pretty wet lips just as eagerly, would you not?" A breathless grunt escapes him when you suck that much harder on his fingers. He drags a struggling breath through his lungs, dips his tongue to the mark of his bite at your shoulder. "Of course you would. I suppose the only real question is where you would have me cum? Would you beg me to paint those lovely breasts of yours? Your face? Or would you, perhaps, have it down your throat? So that you may swallow it all up? "

You hum around his fingers, your cunt drenching his other hand, and he can feel you tightening around his cock, his pace ruthless. "That's it, whore. Louder for me. Let the whole village hear you. Let them all know how the pious Lady Uchiha so eagerly spread her legs for me. Let them know how you let me cum inside you — like only a beast would. Come on, let them know how that pretty little Uchiha cunt aches for me and me only. How absolutely fucking soaked you are for me. Louder. I want them all to know when I cum inside of you."

You rut against his hand, your tongue sliding between his fingers with every thrust of his cock inside you.

"You're so tight, so wet – so fucking wet – allowing me fuck you this way as you suck my fingers.” The graze of your teeth along his fingers is warning and promise in equal measure, and he can't stop the rush any longer, can't stop it even if he tried. "I want you to cum for me. I want you to cum around my cock. I want to hear you scream when I spill inside you when I fuck you like the beast I am," he snarls at your ear, rubbing out an orgasm from you so hard. So violent, you actually scream around his fingers in your mouth.

You buck back against him viciously, one hand ripping the sheets from the bed with trembling knuckles. At the same time, the other reaches back for him blindly, nails digging into his hip, holding him to you. He's buried inside you so deep, his vision inks black for a terrifyingly delicious moment.

Then he's cumming with a roar. His breathing is hot and choked against your matted hair, panted out in broken grunts as he spills and spills and spills, fucking you even still, feeling the slick, hot gush of his seed seeping from your cunt as his thrusts even out, slowing with his exhaustion, until it becomes a languid, breathless rut against you.

Your moan is long and low, your voice hoarse. You squirm beneath his crushing weight, and Tobirama barely has the sense after such a furious orgasm to slide off of you. His fingers slipping from your mouth beneath a trail of saliva. He feels you jerk and shudder when his other fingers pull away from your overstimulated clit, dragging your wetness over your hip as his hand retreats.

Tobirama's chest heaves, his breathing sharp and ragged as he blinks back to clarity. He glances down at the tattered remains of your yukata. The Uchiha fan the stares back at him from the ultramarine fabric he's now defiled beyond repair. He turns his head to watch you, finds you staring steadily at him, your flushed cheek pressed against the bare cot, your sweat-soaked hair plastered to your neck and back. You're breathing ragged as well, cheeks flushed, fingers curling into the air.

Something startlingly like possession flares in his gut. He reaches for you, fists a hand in your hair as he drags your mouth to his, taking it roughly, licking into your mouth with a selfish sort of need. He breaks away panting, eyes fluttering open to watch you. He keeps his fist in your hair, his mouth close to yours.

You wind a hand up to his jaw, curving your body into his, and there's something covetous about how you splay your hand over his sweat-drenched throat.

"You should return to your wife, Lord Senju." You tell him, the promising flex of your fingers along his neck all he needs to understand.

He nods, eyes never leaving yours. "Yes, and you to your brother, Lady Uchiha." he agrees, pressing his mouth back to yours. He kisses you hard and slow, shifting over you, trapping you beneath his weight, one hand already hitching your thigh up around his hips.

-- entropy is also a rlly great song by daniel caesar