Archive of Our Own

It was hot that day, the sun boiling and bearing down on you like it intended to kill you. Heh, maybe the sun god is mad at me, you thought, a snicker leaving you at the thought. You didn’t believe in the gods, didn’t need to. And why would you? They hadn’t done anything worth believing in, after all. Your village in particular had an obsession with the god of the forests. He had one large statue in the village center, and another two that guard the entrance to the forest surrounding the village; most people placed their offerings before those specific statues. 

You wondered why; it wasn’t like there were any fantastical stories about him that you had heard. As far as you were aware he hadn’t done anything to merit such reverence, though there was the legend of his rivalry with the god of sun, but you didn’t find that particularly interesting either. What did interest you was science, medicine, those sorts of things. The villagers often called you a quack, but they did it endearingly. Afterall, without you, there would be no one to tend to the wounded. The original clinician had retired as soon as he thought you were good enough to take over. And you were damn good.

Be it morning or night, you catered to anyone in need, only closing the clinic two days a week but still making exceptions for emergencies. On days where you closed the clinic you went into the forest and nearby mountain to gather herbs for medicine. You loved the forest and all it had to offer. If you could spend all of your time there, you would. You took a deep, relaxing breath in and released it with ease.

“Woah!” You fell, your hands and knees hitting the ground first. There was a mild sting, and you clicked your tongue in annoyance. After standing and brushing the dirt off, you turned to see what your foot had gotten caught on. It looked to be a root, a long one that came from the direction you knew to be a small lake. “The end of a root,” you muttered to yourself. It looked unique and thin, odd for the flora you knew to grow here. “Hmm,” you scratched at the side of your head as you contemplated what to do. “Well, no harm in checking, right? Maybe its something I can use.”

Following the roots trail, you noticed more roots, almost identical in size and color. They all seemed to be from the same plant. “This has got to be one big tree,” you muttered. You picked up your pace, running in your eagerness to sate your curiosity. “How have I not seen it before?”

The sound of the lake reached your ears and when you finally saw the clear waters you paused to catch your breath. As you attempted to refill your lungs, you glanced around for any odd-looking plants, big ones, but the only unusual thing you saw was a large bundle of those roots. Carefully, still a bit out of breath, you made your way over to said roots. “How does this happen?” You crouched down to try and get a look at it from all angles. It looked almost like a cocoon. Puzzled, you stood back up and placed your hands on your hips. “Should I cut some of it?”

You reached into your satchel and pulled out the hunting knife you had for cutting tough plants and in the rare instance of wild animal attacks. “Sorry, I’ll only cut a little,” you apologized to the plant as you knelt and began to cut out a small section of the roots. They were tough, taking quite a bit of effort to saw through, but you were finally able to break off a length that was satisfactory. It oozed a golden sap, almost the same consistency as blood. It was a bit off putting. You glanced back at the hole you had created only to be completely taken aback. “Is that a hand,” you exclaimed. You reached in and touched the tan hand; it was large and dwarfed yours, but it was cold. You gasped, “A dead body?”

Thankfully you were able to manipulate the hand enough to reach the wrist and feel for a pulse. Your heart pounded in your chest. Please be a pulse, please be a pulse, please, please, plea- there it was. A weak but still there thud against your fingers. “I’m going to get you out of there, just hold on.”

Letting go of the hand, you began to hack away at the roots, adrenaline fueling you. You were going to save them, you had to. Your role as a caregiver wouldn’t let you abandon this task. It took a lot out of you, and you were covered in the strange golden sap by the time you were done, but you had made a hole large enough to drag the man out. He was also covered in the golden sap, and it almost looked like it was leaking from the wounds he was covered in. His long black hair was matted and caked, his masculine face bruised, and his jaw misaligned. As you struggled to drag him out of the roots more and more injuries began to show themselves. “Shit,” you grunted with effort. You usually weren’t one to curse. “Shit, shit, shit!”

You felt a bit overwhelmed, definitely under prepared. You had some of herbs that you had collected earlier, your eyes looked back and forth for a vessel to use to mix the medicine and make a paste. “I’m sorry sir, I’m going to have to undress you. I hope you understand,” you told him. You began with his armor; it was unlike any armor you’d seen before. A warrior maybe? It was strong and well made. Great, some rich guy. After his armor was removed, albeit not intact, you looked around to try and get a better idea of his wounds, however that golden sap wasn’t giving you a clear idea. 

Picking the knife back up you began to tear through his black shirt. His chest was in as bad shape as his face, but that golden sap had soaked through to his skin. You tore the left sleeve off your shirt and made sure he was in a comfortable position before quickly walking up to the lake and soaking the impromptu cloth. “I will save you,” you promised, more to yourself than anyone else. 

As the sun began to set you were finally finished with his first aide treatment. You sat with your back leaned against a tree trunk and his head resting in your lap as the adrenaline finally wore off. With your eyes closed you sighed and carded your fingers through his hair, attempting to untangle the matts and twigs in it. “I’m sorry if this is a bit too intimate for you,” you whispered to the unconscious man. “But I have nothing better to do while we wait for the village’s watchmen to come and find us.”

His black tresses gave way to your fingers easily, and the action reminded you of how your mother used to comb her fingers through your own hair. You smiled softly and began to sing the same tune that she had taught you. The birds chirped and everything was peaceful for a moment, but as the sun went down the horizon you grew concerned about the dangers the forest had to offer at night. “You have such a lovely voice.” 

You jolted in surprise and looked down at the man you’d just spent hours bringing from the brink of death. He shouldn’t be conscious yet, let alone smiling up at you so carefree. “You,” you began, hesitant. “How are you-“

“I’m a fast healer,” he cut you off, and even began to sit up. You panicked.

“No! Don’t sit up!”

“Why? I’m fine,” he said easily. He pulled off some of the bandages you had placed on his chest, the bandages were made from torn pieces of your dress. The man glanced down curiously at the goo that coated the cloth and brought it to his nose. “Mm, echinacea, excellent idea.”

You were completely dumbfounded. The cuts along his chest now just mere bruises and closed scars. “How is that possible?” He let out a laugh, lighthearted. He turned back to face you, his dark eyes full of life and mirth. Heat began to creep up from your neck to your ears. He was so handsome, even covered in dirt, golden sap, and half-assed bandages. His smile was arm and one of his big hands reached out and caressed your cheek gently. “What are you?”

“I’m Hashirama,” he responded softly. “And you?”

Before you could tell him your name, it was shouted. You turned to look in the direction of the voices, Hashirama’s hand still connected with your cheek. The watchmen, you thought. As you opened your mouth to respond to your fellow villagers, that warm hand moved to cover your mouth; you looked back at him, fright contorting your face. Using his other hand he placed a single finger to his lips, signaling for you to remain silent. “Wait until I leave, then you may go.”

Was he a rogue of some sort? You nodded your head; his smile was a bit more strained. “Don’t tell them you saw me.”
He removed his palm from your lips and stood to his full height, he offered a hand to help you up as well. Hashirama was tall and broad, much larger than you. As you stood you watched him warily and he gave a small wave. “Goodbye for now,” he said before jumping up, high up, and away. You were left stunned and confused.
 
A few weeks later found you back in the forest, humming along as you collected your weekly supply of herbs. Since that incident, you hadn’t seen hide nor tail of Hashirama. It was a shame really, despite his oddities and unexplained origins you found yourself rather attracted to his toned muscles and bright smile. Unconsciously, you smiled just thinking about him.

You had kept some of the cut ruts and golden sap for analyses but hadn’t found anything that would explain what you saw. The only thing you had discovered was that the golden sap had reactions that were identical to blood. It congealed over time but stayed liquid with the assistance of specific herbs. The similarities in consistency had been one of the first things you noticed. It both scared and intrigued you. You wondered what type of plants bled? Were there other trees that had the same golden sap? Maybe I should go back and- “Oh! It’s you again!”

“Ah!” You jumped, Hashirama’s deep voice startling you. He was squatting down in front of you, blinking at your startled face like he wasn’t the reason for it. “Hashirama,” you started softly. Had you been so focused on your thoughts that you hadn’t noticed him?

“You remembered my name,” he said excitedly. 

“Of course I did. How many strange men do you think I meet in the woods?”

He placed a hand to his chin and acted like he was giving it some thought. “Maybe two?”

“No, only you,” you responded dryly.

“Ah,” he responded, a sultry smirk molding his full lips. His voice seemed a touch deeper as he said, “I’m honored.”

Your face felt hot, and you looked away from him and back to the plants in front of you. His looks are dangerous, you thought. “Who are you, really?”

“I told you, I’m Hashirama.”

“You’re not going to tell me anymore, are you?” You paused, giving him time to respond. When he didn’t you sighed and looked back at him warily. “Will you at least tell me if you’re some kind of criminal?”

“And if I am? Will you turn me in?” A tease.

“Yes,” you said back with a huff. “I could use the money.”

“Oh,” he muttered, his entire continence crumbling. His head was down between his knees, which had been brought up to his chest, even the air around him seemed to exude sadness. You stared at him for a few seconds before laughter began to bubble through you. He looks like a pouting kid! He sniffled and sunk further into his depressed position. “And now you’re laughing at me.”

“Sorry, sorry!” You giggled uncontrollably, one of your hands at your mouth while the other you placed on his tanned hand. “I won’t turn you in, don’t worry.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.” With that he sprung back up, bright smile back; that only made you laugh harder.

Every week after that you’d continue your trips to the forest, and every time he’d find you. It became a routine, your time with him full of laughter and learning. Hashirama knew so much about plants and medicine, he told you things that you had never heard of, let alone thought to try. He told you what worked best for illness, what worked best for injury, herbs to strengthen constitution, and so much more. He was an untapped wealth of knowledge and you hung on his every word.

He seemed just as excited to see you as you did him every time the two of you met. He’d ask you mundane questions, like how you grew up and the things you liked. Hashirama seemed rather impressed when you told him about your position as the village clinician. He understood the weight your position as a woman carried, and it was almost inevitable that you’d develop feelings for him. And the more time you spent with him the deeper your feelings went.

You had invited Hashirama to stay in the village with you, many times, but he refused. It hurt a bit, though your head knew the difference your heart treated it like he was rejecting you. You had no idea how he felt about you, other than he liked to talk with you. He never gave any inclination about reciprocating your feelings and the longer you spent with him the more that stung. Should I give up? You thought. He’s just some wanted criminal anyway, right? I should just move on and marry someone from the village. But then you’d see him, his large smile causing crinkles under his eyes, his warm hands squeezing yours tightly as he led you excitedly to some new tree, and all your resolve to forget about him would crumble.

“Is something wrong?”

“No,” you responded, not quite meeting his dark eyes. He was swimming in the lake. The man was trying to kill you, you were sure. His torso bare, the water making his momohiki cling to his lower body, his dark hair stuck to his face, neck, and back. Definitely trying to kill me. You gulped and began to look at some of the lake’s smooth stones. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Hm,” he tilted his head to the side, leaning on a rock close to the edge of the water. “If you’re willing to talk, I’ll listen.”

If only I could. Another sigh escaped you before you formed an idea. Maybe? “Well, lately I’ve had a few men try to court me.”

“Oh?”

“They’re not ideal, but I am passed marriageable age. I’m wondering if I should accept them or not.” Your heart pounded in your chest. Would he take the bait? You chanced a glance in his direction, but he was still smiling, it looked a bit smaller, a bit tighter, but other than that there was no difference. Your heart sunk. Right, you thought. How could I be so stupid. 

Four weeks after that meeting, and things had begun to change in the village. There was a large increase in sick villagers visiting your clinic. You were so busy you hadn’t had the chance to see Hashirama since then. Many were beginning to show signs of malnutrition, especially the children. “Wasn’t our harvest good? What’s changed?”

“We haven’t been able to hunt in weeks, and our crops have all but died,” the village leader responded. You looked at him, puzzled.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s the god of the forests,” another elder suggested. “He’s angry with us, we must placate him immediately.”

“Shall we give him more offerings?” Another asked.

You clenched your fists. “Enough with the gods, we need to do something about this quickly.”

“We will give our food reserves to the children first,” the leader decided. “And if this continues the women will come next. If we continue to lack in supplies, I will contact other villages for help.”

But the food shortage continued, and you hardly had enough supplies to feed yourself, let alone your patients. You began to chew on appetite suppressing plants to push past the hunger. “Make way! We have wounded!”

You ran out of your clinic, toward the commotion. Four of the village’s best hunters lay incapacitated, carried toward you by their injured companions. “What happened?”

“It’s the forest,” one called, a look of terror on his face. “It attacked us as we tried to get in!”

The other villagers began to whisper, “If we can’t hunt then we’re doomed!”, “What have we done to offend the gods so?”, “What do we do now?”. 

Shit, you thought, leaf hanging from your lips. What can we do?

Everything was starting to fall apart. You had gone to the forest entrance to see what the hunters were talking about, and just like they said the trees pushed their branches together to force you from getting in. You tried another not so public entrance and met the same resistance. One of the trees had even cut your shoulder. “Shit,” you muttered under your breath. You were low on supplies, low on food, and Hashirama was still in the forest as far as you knew. You couldn’t imagine he’d be better off. “Hashirama,” you called out into the trees. “Please be okay.”

When the situation seemed dire, the village leader ordered a meeting. With all in attendance, he claimed to have a solution to all the suffering. “We will offer our gracious deity a sacrifice,” he announced. “A sacrifice of flesh and blood. One of our own.”

Outrage began to spill from the villagers’ lips. How can we stoop so low? “Silence,” called an elder. “At dusk we will give our offering. This will bring everything back to how it should be.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Please don’t choose my daughter, please not my daughter!”

“Can’t we just leave for another village?”

“You’re asking for too much!”

But the ones in charge weren’t listening to any of the back talk. The village leader’s eyes met yours, and a chill went down your spine. His gaze lingered a bit too long for your liking before he looked away. “Everyone go home and stay there, we will get the sacrifice when its time. While you wait, pray. That is all that can be done now.”

As soon as you got back to your home you began to pace. You had a sinking feeling that you were the one that was about to be sacrificed. But that would be ridiculous, you were the village’s only healer. Getting rid of you would bring far more harm than good. But your mind kept going back to that stare, to the way the village leader’s eyes held yours is if he was sorry, like you were some creature to be pitied. A swift knock at your door all but confirmed your suspicions, and when you opened the door, you felt like throwing up.

“We’re sorry dear,” said the leader’s wife. The two women beside her kept their heads down as if ashamed. “But we’ve come to prepare you for the sacrifice.”

“Shit,” came your breathless reply.

All three were the wives of the heads of the village, all three kind souls who had wanted nothing but the best for you growing up. Your heart pounded as they took their time in grooming you. They bathed you in warmed water, poured expensive oils onto your skin, combed your hair, and decorated it with gold decorations made to look like flowers, and painted your lips with red dyes. The clothing they dressed you in could hardly be called clothing. The material was expensive and white, but sheer. The top stopped just below your breasts and the bottoms were a skirt that showed much more than it covered. “No wrappings?” You asked, hoping against hope for some coverage. They shook their heads.

“Before we go dear, please, eat this.”

“But this is-“ Ginseng, and in this context it was hard not remember its aphrodisiacal qualities. The eldest woman just placed her hand on your shoulder, her face only displayed pity. You ate the ginseng without another word. It tasted different from normal ginseng, it could’ve been your hunger talking, but it tasted much, much, sweeter; like the sweetness would melt you from the inside. A band of gold was placed around your waist and sandals of a similar color were placed on your feet with care. 

“Alright,” the eldest said, a dour look on her face. “That’s everything,” she paused and pressed her lips together. She approached you, leaned on her tip toes, and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. You felt like you wanted to cry. “Please, come back safely.”

The bitterness of betrayal settled on your tongue. Come back? You thought, the idea of it giving you mixed feelings. After being abandoned like this would I even want to come back?

Like a funeral procession, the village leader’s and their wives, were all silent with grave faces as they lead you to the main entrance to the forest. You looked up at the two statues, their faces eroded by time, and suddenly they felt a lot more foreboding. You didn’t believe in the gods, but you do know that something strange was going on in those woods. Would it even let you in this time? 

As the trees seemed to part their branches to allow your entry, you began to form a plan. I’ll find Hashirama and we’ll run away, you nodded to yourself. Find Hashirama, run away, easy as that. It’ll be fine. You took a sharp breath in as you saw the state of the woods. It had been once been so bright, with animals and insects making constant noise, but at that moment all you heard was the wind rustling leaves. The flora looked so wilted, like they were on the brink of death. “Please, accept our humble offering,” the leader said. They all bowed, and you felt like you were on a precipice. 

No matter what you did, your next step would change everything. If you ran back into the village, even if the villagers didn’t become upset with you, they were still doomed without food and medicine; if you stepped into the forest that you used to make you feel at ease, there was no telling what would happen. You squeezed your eyes shut; your heart felt like it was being split in two. The best choice is probably to just run away. But there he was again, his overly cheerful smile flashing through your mind, and a sigh left your lips as you made up your mind. “Always coming to your rescue,” you muttered, beginning to walk forward.

The path was different, the sky was dark, the trees had blocked the entrance behind you. Everything about this made your skin crawl. You had no idea what part of the forest you had been led to, but you could see the shadow of a manmade structure. As you approached, rain began to fall. It drizzled at first, gave you a minute to look at the odd building before you had to run inside due to a downpour.

It looked to be a forgotten temple of sorts. A large building covered in vines and weeds that were decaying with the rest of the woods. The walls and columns which you believed to once be pristine and white were dyed yellow with wear and hunks of stone missing. The inside was largely the same, though there were two large skylights which you were sure were beautiful with moonlight, but they also allowed the downpour to follow you inside. Between the two skylights in the center of the room was a raised table, a large decorative throne a ways behind it and against the backwall. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you walked toward the throne what little clothing you were wearing was soaked through and clung to your skin, it embarrassed you how visible your breasts were. 

“Well, this is just great,” you grumbled, pulling the golden decorations from your wet hair. You placed them on a raised table at the rooms center. The rain continued to pour, and you stared down at puddles on the floor you’d have to walk through. “Whoever designed this place really wasn’t thinking.”

There were no visible decorations, only visible distress. How long has this been here? You wondered if it was as old as the village itself. The water had ruined the lovely sandals you wore so you took them off and placed them beside the throne, your bare feet made audible smacks as they walked through the water. After brushing off some dust and vines, not very well, you sat on the throne.

“You’re here!”

You perked up at that voice, its’ baritone echoing even over the sounds of the downpour. “Hashirama,” you called back and stood. “Thank the gods you’re alive.”

“Of course I am,” he responded as he made his approach. The man looked the same as he always did, which was both relieving and distressing. It had been over a month of starvation, illness, and injury for your village, and yet he didn’t show any visible signs of suffering the same ailments. “I am suffering though.”

“Really?” You met him halfway and placed your hands on his face, clinician mindset taking over. His smile softened as he closed his eyes and nodded. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you,” his tone was teasing. “How could I not suffer?”

“Don’t joke around like that.”

“But I’m serious.” Hashirama wrapped his warm hands around your still wet forearms. You tilted your head to the side. How had you not noticed he was dry? “Not being able to see you was upsetting.”

You had forgotten your state of dress until you watched his eyes look you up and down, his pupils dilated in obvious arousal, and you had to look away. In attempts to cover yourself, you tried to pull your hands away from his face but his grip on your arms was too strong. “Please,” you pleaded, keeping your gaze at his chest to avoid watching those dark eyes devour you. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Why?” Hashirama pulled you closer, he brought your left wrist up to his lips and began to kiss a slow trail down your arm. “You look mouthwatering.”

Weakly you tried to pull away, but it was more of an instinct than anything. His attentions were what you had craved for almost as long as you knew him. Your breath hiccupped as he nibbled at your pulse, his other arm reached behind you to circle the gold band on your waist. “How could I resist such a beautiful offering?”

“Offering?” Your eyelashes fluttered, partially distracted by the tan hand that had began to creep toward your rear. “What do you mean?”

He pressed you further to him, his body almost flush against yours. Your torso was leaned back, reluctant to let your sensitive breasts rub against his armored chest. “Your village offered you to me in order to regain access to the forest.”

You furrowed your brow. “They said that I was a sacrifice for their imaginary forest god.”

Hashirama lifted his lips from your skin to look back at you with a pout. “I’m not imaginary.”

A beat, then two, then three, before your brain finally began working again. Your voice was hesitant, a bit strained as you asked, “What?” 

He blinked at you a few times before his eyes widened in surprise, “You didn’t know? But I told you when we first met.”

“No, you didn’t,” you retorted, your nerves building, not quite sure how to handle the new information. 

“I told you my name.”

“Yeah, but that was it. You said Hashirama, not Hashirama god of the forests!”

“The village you come from has been loyal to me for centuries.” The black-haired man seemed to refocus on your body, he placed the arm he had been showing affection on over his shoulders and moved both hands to grab your ass. You yelped and wrapped your legs around his hips, he held you up with ease. “A god’s name is an invaluable part of the teachings. I am the only one allowed to be called Hashirama.”

Closing your eyes, you thought back to when you were younger and tried to remember ever hearing that name, but your mind quickly went blank as he leaned his head forward and began to place sloppy kisses against your neck. The movement caused your skirt to raise up, bearing your sex against his clothed erection. A gasp tore through you. “Ah, you’re driving me mad.”

Your brain tried to rationalize it, alright even if he has the title it doesn’t mean he’s actually a god. Hashirama licked a stripe along the column of your neck, and you shivered, your hands gripped at his shoulders before moving to wrap around his neck and comb through his hair. “I still don’t believe in the gods,” you muttered breathlessly, his hands tightened their grip on the flesh of your ass.

He straightened his neck and smirked at you. His dark eyes filled with lust and confidence. A strange texture brushed against your legs before gripping your ankles with immense strength. You clung to Hashirama’s neck like your life depended on it, “W-What is that?”

“Relax,” he shushed you. The things began to pull your legs apart, removing them from his hips. Similar things wrapped around your wrists, but these you could see. They looked almost like vines, but with a more wooden texture, like the roots that he had been wrapped in the day you met. As the roots began to remove your arms from his neck you looked at him in a panic, he shushed you gently. The roots at your ankles rose you as the ones on your wrists suspended you, your arms above your head. He took your chin in his hand gently and whispered, “They’re apart of me, there’s no need to worry.”

His plush lips pressed against yours and you groaned. His tongue immediately sought entrance and you obliged. You moaned as he slid it against yours, he allowed you to take the lead after that. With ease he allowed your tongue to explore his mouth, he tasted like herbs, fresh and crisp with a hint of bitterness. Hashirama’s hands moved along your body, ghost like touches all along your frame. The tips of his index fingers pressed against your clothed nipples before he rubbed them in circular motions. 

A grunt left your mouth and he swallowed it. Your nipples pebbled under his touch, and he began to palm at the full weight of your breasts as he pulled away. “Your breasts are so perfect,” he groaned. The roots on your ankles began to spread your legs further apart and he brought his thigh up to place against your heated core. “So pretty, spread and at my mercy. I’ve wanted to have you like this since I first laid eyes on you.”

The roots around your raised wrists pushed you down and onto his thick thigh. You ground down on it unconsciously, the promise of stimulation too great to resist. “Are you getting impatient, dear? Sorry, I’ll take better care of you.”

Hashirama ripped the wet cloth from your breasts, the fabric tattered as it fell open and hung by its sleeves. That had startled you. He began sucking and licking at your neck again, making sure to nibble at the places that made your breath hitch. His right hand continued to tease your breast. That left hand, though, began to trail downward. It fiddled with the golden band, “I like it, like a handle,” he muttered against your skin. Handle?! His left hand finally reached your thigh and began to creep inward toward your wet sex. The body heat from his hand brought anticipation with it. He gently touched your outer labia, his thigh moving away for a moment, you let out a soft moan. 

His deft fingers began to spread one side of your outer lips and then the roots pulled you back down to his thigh. You squeaked. The friction was more intense, the cloth rubbing against your clit almost painfully. “Ha-Hashirama,” you panted. The dark-haired man kissed his way to your neglected breast and flicked the hardened nipple with his tongue. Another flick, again, only after you whined did he wrap his lips around the abused fresh and you almost sighed in relief. 

Another root seemed to make its way up your leg and slipped between your slick folds and the forest god’s thigh. “Ah! Too much,” you cried, the feeling of the root alien to you. It was very textured, groves and abnormal lumps, a tapered tip, and you could feel every bit of it. It slid against you, your fluids more than enough to give it easy passage. The tip pressed against your already throbbing bud with each thrust forward, and his thigh only pushed it further against you. 

You wished you could grab a hold of him, dig your nails into his tanned flesh as he made you cum in such an abnormal way. The knot in your stomach tightened, his mouth switched breasts, and his right hand gripped your hip and began to make you rock against the assault on your sex. “That’s it, pretty thing, let go. Soak my thigh,” he said after he pulled away from your skin, his voice deep and a bit hoarse. One more hit from that tapered root tip and you were coming undone, groaning as you did so.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised, the roots began to lower you, his hands coming up to take you from them gently. “Do you think you can go over to that table there? I’ll be right behind you.”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, your legs felt like jelly. He chuckled and kissed your forehead before giving you a push in that direction. You stumbled but righted yourself and slowly made your way. The table was wet from the rain that had seemed to stop, it was cold, but you wanted to sit down. The table was slippery, your hair decorations still rested on the edge, the moist chill of the stone felt like a balm against your recovering sex. But you weren’t ready to be done and as you watched Hashirama’s naked form approach you, you clenched your thighs.

He was gorgeous, you had always thought so. The warm color of his, the toned muscles along his arms and pecks, even his abs were well defined. Your eyes drank in the sharp v of his hips as it led into a patch of curly black and a rather generous erection. His cock was long and thick with a delicious curve. Hashirama seemed rather proud of your attentions. His approach was slow with and with intention, when he reached you, he placed his arms on either side of you before his lips fell to yours once again.

This kiss was different, slower, but his twitching cock gave away his excitement. It was strange if you thought about it, you were being extremely intimate with a god, who’s abilities you doubted until he literally all but fucked you with them, and who you hadn’t believed in until the tryst began. But there was no time to think with his tongue back in your mouth and moving toward your throat. Your arousal drove you as you began to run your hands through his hair, down his back- he shivered at your light scratches. His hands moved, one rubbing the gold band again and the other boldly touching at your soaked folds. His pecks had the perfect amount of firmness, you liked squeezing them, and his abs quivered under your touch. 

He broke the kiss again, his hand retreating from the apex of your thighs, you would have been embarrassed by the sticky trail that followed his fingers if Hashirama hadn’t looked so pleased. “Can I taste you?” You thought he meant his fingers, so you nodded, but when he knelt and spread your knees you were glad that hadn’t been what he meant. 

The dark-haired man licked one long stripe along your lower lips before pushing your legs further apart to lap at your entrance. It felt like heaven. His tongue moved in opposite manners, started bottom to top then on the next lap it was top to bottom. He kissed your clit before sucking on it, your hips bucked automatically. His fingers came back and began to rub that bundle of nerves after his lips left it in favor of tonguing at your entrance. Your fingers went to his head, gripping his long tresses with urgency as you began to wholeheartedly ride his face. Hashirama groaned as you did, his tongue wriggling against your walls and driving you to the edge of sanity.

“Ha-Hashi,” you finish, your voice raising in pitch as your orgasm approached yet again. His fingers began to rub your clit faster, going back and forth as opposed to the circular motions they originally were. The noises that were coming from his mouth were debauched. He was groaning and moaning, almost as much as you were, his vigor like that of a man starved. Your fingers tightened in his hair, you would have worried that you were pulling too hard had your peak not hit you. “Mmm,” you whined, your eyes tearing up. Your hips kept moving, as did his tongue and fingers, and you rode out your orgasm until it hurt.

“Stop,” you begged softly. “Please, please, no more.”

He pulled away slowly, like he would go in for more at any moment. His chest heaved and his chin was covered in your slick. “You taste divine,” he told you, he looked as if he was the one who had reached his peak. “I don’t think I could ever tire of your taste.” The man stood back to his full height and began to position himself between your thighs. “Like the sweetest honey, haha, I’ll probably crave it again very soon. But unfortunately, I don’t think I can wait any longer.” You felt his tip begin to stretch your opening and you squeezed your eyes shut, but he didn’t move any further. “Tell me that you’re mine.”

“I am,” you nodded, your eyes opened once again. “I am yours.”

“That you’ll stay with me here, in the forest.”

“Stay in the forest?” You struggled to not give in, to not go along with everything just to feel more of him.

“That’s right, with me, forever,” Hashirama confirmed, his own breathing labored and arms shaking with restraint. “Say it.”

As you opened your mouth to respond he slid just a bit more inside and you groaned. “Yes,” you grunted, desperate in your need for more. More of him, inside you, enveloping you, more. “Yes, I’ll stay.”

He groaned and pushed in slowly. “Good,” he grunted. It felt like you were being split open, your mouth open in a silent gasp. He continued to push in, slow and steady, until he bottomed out and you could feel him in the deepest parts of you. His glans touched your cervix and your toes curled.

It was torturous, he hadn’t moved. You wanted him hard and fast, like he was going to break you in half, but when he pulled his hips back it was slow and methodical, like he wanted you to feel every inch drag against your walls, and oh did you. His hips snapped into yours and suddenly you were stuffed full again. You buried your face in his neck. “You feel so good, the way you rub and squeeze me, it makes me want nothing more than to pump you full of cum.”

With every snap inside, your sensitive breasts jostled against his chest and with every slow drag out you bit into his shoulder. “What’s wrong pretty?” You couldn’t tell if he was teasing or if he meant it. “If you need something you have to ask for it.”

He felt so good, but the slow methodical drag almost hurt. The stimulation was intense, like an itch that needed to be scratched. But it was still so good, you felt so full when he thrust inside and so empty as he took himself away. You felt a keening whine beginning in the back of your throat. You needed him faster.

“Please,” your fingernails began to dig into his back.

“Please what?” Another excruciatingly slow drag out.

“Hashirama, faster please,” you exclaimed. “Harder, please, fuck me until I can’t walk straight just- more please!”

He placed one hand on the back of your head and the other on your waist. “There’s a good girl, so pretty when you beg.” His hips began a brutal pace, his chest rumbled with his groans, his eyes closed as he also began to feel the pleasurable friction of his speed. “Such a good girl,” he said in a staccato, timing it with his thrusts. “Do you think anyone else could take my cock as well as you? You’re so special, so perfect.”

His words made your insides tingle, a pleasant sensation that began to build with your peak. You couldn’t help but gasp every time he hit your cervix. The sound of his aching balls smacking against your ass echoed against the stone walls, the mix of your combined sounds furthering your ecstasy. He moved your face to his and kissed you once again, your third climax of the evening crashing through you. 

Your walls squeezed around him, and he groaned into your mouth as you began to milk him. He came as well, and the warmth of his seed made you gasp. Hashirama continued to pump himself into you until you began to feel overstimulated, until all spurts of his hot sperm had finished. He pulled out, his semen immediately began to trickle out of you, but instead of having a softened member, as was typical, he was still fully erect. You blinked up at him in surprise.

A chuckle left him, and he backed away for a moment, one of his hands reached between your legs to collect your combined fluids before he began to rub them along your skin. He rubbed it onto your breasts, your stomach, along the gold band, and the fat of your thigh. “Get on all fours on the table, pretty.” You scrambled to obey.

The hardness of the stone put pressure on your knees, but that pain flew to the back of your mind as you felt his hand move up your back to between your shoulder blades and his own pressure begin to push you down. With your face down and your ass in the air you shivered. Hashirama rubbed the flesh of your right cheek before giving it a light smack, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make your body move. “This is my favorite view. Your ass up, your hole on display and dripping with my cum. Nothing makes me harder.”

He entered you again, his pace fast and merciless. You almost missed the slow and tortuous one he had begun with. The new angle was almost too much, he hit your gspot and a sharp whine left you whenever he did. You thought your eyes might cross from the pleasure. “Touch yourself,” he panted. “Rub your clit for me.”

Eager to obey, you shakily reached a hand down and began to rub your abused clit. Tears stung your eyes; it was almost too much. It hurt but it also felt so good. “You look so pretty wrapped around my cock. I can’t imagine anyone would fit you better. No one could make you feel as good. Only me!”

“Ha,” you swallowed, your saliva thick in your throat. You were already at your peak again. It would have to be the last one, the pleasure was already more than you could handle. “Hashirama, I can’t, I,” you whined, loudly. It was too much, it felt too different. Something above the average orgasm was coming. “I can’t.”

“You can,” he told you, his own voice strained as he felt your walls begin to twitch around him. “Go on, cum on my cock again.”

You rubbed your clit a little harder and after two more thrusts of his godly member and you came for the fourth time. It felt like rapture. A loud gasp tore through you, and you could feel the gush of fluid leave you. He kept going, you kept coming. It seemed like there would be no end to the high and it made you want to sob. Too much of a good thing. “Such a good girl, you sprayed all over me,” he whispered and licked a stripe down your back, his own hips began to stutter. “Just a bit more.”

One more thrust, then two, then three, and he was pulling out. You felt the warmth of his cum hit your back and he trailed it down to your ass. When he was finished, you were both panting, his hand already rubbing his spend along your skin. In a more labored version of his disheartened voice he announced, “Ahh, I want to cover you in more cum.”

You began to shake your head, throat dry and sore from overusing your voice. There was no way you could take another round, your thighs were still trembling, blood still thrumming. “Don’t shake your head,” he tsked. His hair began to tickle your sides and you felt him press his over warm cheek against your hip. Hashirama placed a gentle kiss on your pelvic bone and put an open palm against your lower belly. “You can relax for now, after all, we have plenty of time for me to continue marking you,” there was his cheery lilt.

You heard it before you saw it, the plants beginning to move and cover the exists, even going so far as to block out any human sized hole in the skylights that could be used to crawl out of. A nervous shiver wracked your spine and goosebumps began to crawl along your skin as he licked a trail up your side from your raised hip. “After all, you said you’d be here with me forever.”