A hue of red finds its way onto my cheeks, once I fall to the side and collapse, sweat-bathed into my sheets. Have I truly done that? It can't be. Slowly, I open my eyes and turn to my right, and truthfully, they meet the sleeping figure of my best friend. Naruto's hand is cupping my hip; his touch is warm and soothing, on the other hand it gives me the feeling that most likely every single wing experiences at KFC—burning, deep fried. For fuck's sake...I've just betrayed my best friend. I cannot even tell why I've done what I did. Have I fallen victim to a politician's persuasion skills, or has there been something beyond that? Naruto is... he is... asleep. That much I've noted already. And boy, he looks so mesmerising when asleep. So innocent, cute, pure... these fine lines, which one could easily mistake to be whiskers, really are an eye-catching aspect of him. He looks almost like a newborn kitten, that's strangely nuzzling me, and breathes his hot breath onto my bare skin. Naruto is... beautiful. And maybe my heart is skipping a couple beats at that very due realisation.
But no matter how beautiful I find him, how addicting his touch is on me, this is just all messing with my head. Hinata Hyuuga and I have been through way too much to even think about sleeping with her beloved. I am the worst. I shouldn't even consider Naruto Uzumaki to be beautiful, attractive, handsome, and—what did these kids call Harry Styles again? Ah right—boyfriend material. I mean, yes, he definitely is that, else he wouldn't have been married, if he never were the perfect, most caring boyfriend. Oh dear, I am taking this all into directions I've never wanted to explore. Abort! Naruto is... a friend. A good one at that. A good one with whom I've hit it, a terrible, terrible mistake—which has strangely been one of the best feelings, minus the post-sex regret—and I should just forget about it completely. That's what he is gonna do as well. What he's said about leaving her, he's just not been in his right mind. What do I even have to offer at this point. Low blow to myself. But in all God damn honesty: He and I are friends, meant to be friends, he's got a whole bloody family and one hell of an influential position. He is... unattainable. And with that thought setting in, I swing my legs over the edge of my bed and attempt a scavenger hunt for my lost lingerie. A hunt through which my blond friend sleeps through, his snoring a nice melody, which isn't nearly as annoying as I've thought it would be. God, I'm even liking his snoring. I am whipped. What a weird turn of events.
It hasn't taken long till I got dressed, my stomach twisting after putting each piece of clothing on my body again. My skin is burning, remembering his fiery touches, which have been rough and soft at the same time, putting my mind into a frenzy. Images of him flash through my head, and I feel almost nauseous. He still hasn't woken up from his slumber. I wish I could be as calm as he appears in his sleep, no care in the world, just cuddling up to my pillows and blankets, snoring softly with probably the sweetest of dreams playing in my head. It would be far better than thinking of a way to escape this reality: The reality where I couldn't keep myself in control and do what my very own subconscious has been warning me from since this everything has begun. What should I even say once he wakes up? What will he say, though? It is a scary thought, but what if he never meant anything of what he's said? Naturally, he couldn't have meant everything he said, but what if there hasn't been anything between us? I know that that would be the best for everyone, us realising that this has been dumb, foolish, uncalled for and unnecessary, and most importantly: That we have no actual feelings for each other. But how could that realisation strike the two of us? Hell, I actually have feelings for him. I just can't figure them out fully. F*ck it all, I need a f*ckin' shower. Maybe that will wash off my feelings of guilt, and the scent of his aftershave which has pretty much stitched its way right under my skin.
***
This shower is a kind of its own, no comparison to other showers is possible at this point. I am pretty much ninety-nine percent sure that this is the longest shower I've ever taken in the entirety of my twenty-five years of walking this planet. And what I'm also sure is that the boiler has never been turned up to these sorts of temperatures — dear God, may the electricity bill show mercy on my sinner self. My newly bought shower gel is already halfway empty as I rub it all over me for what has probably been the fifth time already, but I just can't get his scent out of my nostrils, out of my system. No matter how hard I scrub, this little secret is so dirty that not even Mr. Clean can make it sparkle. Man, f*ck that guy.
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The Godmother [Naruto Uzumaki]
Fanfiction【Modern AU】 【Naruto x Reader】 Uzumaki Naruto and his wife Hinata have been married for five years. They even have two children, Boruto and Himawari Uzumaki. Everything seemed to be perfect in their life, but then things went down and Naruto finds hi...