Kakashi Hatake

You and Kakashi had been dating for a while. You were the average couple — talking about your day, doing normal couple stuff — but there was one thing about the two of you: you never initiated physical contact. Not even holding hands. You found yourself walking with Kakashi through the quiet alleyways of Konoha. He was reading his book, though you could tell he wasn’t really paying attention to the pages. The soft evening light caught in his silver hair as he turned another page with lazy fingers. Before you could stop yourself, you leaned in and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. Kakashi stopped dead. He completely froze, book hanging forgotten in his hand. Then, slowly, he turned his head toward you. His visible eye was wide, and beneath the mask his face flushed the deepest crimson you had ever seen on him — the tips of his ears burning red, heat crawling visibly up his neck. Something in him snapped. He reached out and yanked you toward him by the front of your uniform with sudden, almost desperate force. The momentum sent him stumbling backward, back hitting the alley wall hard enough that he would have cracked his head if you hadn’t reacted. Your hand shot behind his head, fingers sliding into soft silver hair to cushion the impact, your other arm wrapping tight around his waist to steady him. The second he felt your body pressed fully against his, Kakashi’s free hand tore the mask down in a single, lightning-fast motion. Then he was kissing you like a man who had been starving for years. His mouth crashed against yours — hot, open, and hungry. There was nothing careful or hesitant about it. His lips parted yours immediately, tongue sliding in deep and claiming, tasting you with the most undignified, broken sounds spilling from his throat. Soft, wet, needy noises he would never normally allow himself to make. He kissed like he needed to memorize the shape of your lips, the way you tasted, the soft give of your tongue against his. One hand fisted tightly in the front of your uniform, pulling you even closer until there was no space left between your bodies, while the other stayed buried in your hair, tilting your head so he could kiss you deeper, wetter, filthier. When you finally pulled back for air, a glistening string of shared saliva still connected your mouths. Kakashi didn’t even try to hide it. He wiped the mess trailing down his lips with the back of his hand, eyes half-lidded and dark, pupils blown so wide his eye looked almost black. His breathing was uneven, chest rising and falling hard against yours. You leaned in again. Immediately his hand shot up, pressing firmly over your mouth. His face was still burning red, and he couldn’t even look at you properly — gaze darting to the side, ears glowing. “W-wait a second—” he gasped, voice rough and shaky behind his palm.