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Thing 1: The Thing About Sasuke
Okay, so, listen—I'm not saying I wanted to end up barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. Well. I am saying that now, but back then? Before I knew what a mistake it was to let Sasuke within a three-foot radius of me? Yeah, no. That wasn't the plan.
Except, let's be honest. Have I ever had a good plan? A real, solid, foolproof, Naruto-proof plan?
Nope.
So maybe it's fate. Maybe it's karma. Maybe it's because I'm just a tiny bit stupid when it comes to her.
…Okay, I'm a lot stupid when it comes to her.
It started like this:
I, Naruto Uzumaki, adorable, soft, and frankly very huggable, was living my best life. Minding my business. Wearing my cute little skirts and painting my nails and existing like the angel I am. And Sasuke? She was a menace. A dangerous menace, and not just because she was seven feet of muscle, boobs, and a frankly upsetting amount of testosterone.
No, no. The problem was that she was hot.
And I know what you're thinking.
"Oh, Naruto, that doesn't sound like a problem. That sounds like a you issue."
Yeah. Exactly.
Have you ever seen someone so hot your brain short-circuits? Like, you see them across the room, and suddenly, you're making poor life choices? Like wearing a skirt just a little too short because you know she's gonna see, and when she sees, she's gonna look?
Because let me tell you—Sasuke looks.
She looks like a starving woman. Like a predator sizing up its prey. And I know, I know I should have been worried. But do I look like the kind of guy who makes good decisions?
I don't.
And that's how I got myself into this mess.
See, it started with small things. Innocent things. Probably.
Like Sasuke giving me her jacket when it got cold. Or the way her eyes would track me whenever I walked into a room, like I was the only thing worth looking at. Or the way she would oh-so-casually stretch her arms above her head, her shirt riding up juuuust enough to show off those ridiculous abs.
Not that I was looking.
Okay, I was looking.
But in my defense, so was she.
And then one day, she just—decided.
I don't even know how else to explain it. One second, we were sitting together, me rambling about some nonsense, and then—
"You should be mine."
Like it was a fact. Like she had already worked it out in her giant, terrifying, Sasuke-brain and just forgot to tell me until now.
Which, rude. I feel like I should have been included in this decision.
But the thing about Sasuke?
She doesn't ask for things.
She takes them.
And oh boy.
I was so stupid for not running while I had the chance.
Thing 2: The Thing About Me
So, let's talk about me for a second.
I know what you're thinking. "But Naruto, you already talk about yourself all the time."
First of all, rude. Second of all, yeah, fair.
But this is important, okay? Because if you don't understand me, you won't understand how I let things get so out of hand. How I went from a free, independent, absolutely thriving individual to… well. This.
So.
I am, objectively, adorable. That's just science. I have big blue eyes, soft fluffy ears, and a tail that is very fun to pet. I wear cute little skirts, my legs look amazing, and I smell like vanilla and sunshine.
I am also an idiot.
Not in, like, a hopeless way. I have a brain. I just forget to use it sometimes. Especially when Sasuke is involved.
Which is why I sat there, blinking up at her, when she said—
"You should be mine."
Like a full-blown, galaxy-brained, five-star idiot.
Because here's the thing: I should have laughed. I should have called her a weirdo, thrown a pillow at her, something.
But no.
Instead, I sat there with my mouth open, staring up at her like a deer in headlights, my stupid, fluffy brain trying to process what the hell she even meant by that.
Because, like… what?
Sasuke was not a romantic person. She was not a feelings person. She was an angry person, a punch first, ask questions never kind of person. The idea of her, of all people, wanting me was so—so—
Ridiculously hot.
Wait.
No.
I mean—it was weird! And crazy! And I definitely wasn't thinking about how strong she was, or how her voice got all low and rumbly when she was serious, or how, oh god, if I agreed, she would just pick me up and—
Nope. Nope. We are not going there.
"Uhh," I said, proving once again that I am a genius and a poet. "Excuse me?"
She looked at me like I was the one being weird. "You heard me."
Okay, yeah, I did hear her, but I was really hoping she'd say something else. Something that didn't make my brain short-circuit and my tail puff up like an idiot.
Instead, she just kept staring at me.
Waiting.
Like this was some foregone conclusion. Like all she had to do was state a fact, and I'd just accept it.
Which, okay, yeah, that does sound like something I'd do. But I shouldn't!
Right?
Right.
So obviously, I laughed in her face.
…Okay, no, I tried to laugh, but it came out weird and nervous and high-pitched, and oh my god, what was wrong with me?!
"You can't just say that!" I finally managed, waving my hands like that would somehow dispel whatever weird, sexy tension was happening right now. "You can't just—just decide that I'm yours!"
She tilted her head, all slow and considering, and—oh no.
Oh no.
She was sizing me up.
Like a problem to be solved. Like a puzzle she was already halfway done with. Like all she had to do was find the last piece, and then—click.
Checkmate.
And then she did it.
The thing.
The thing that ruined my entire life.
She leaned in close, so close I could feel her breath against my ear, and said—
"I can. And I will."
And that, my friends, was the exact moment I lost the war.
Thing 3: The Thing About Losing
So, uh.
You ever just… lose? Like, in a way that's so embarrassing, so completely catastrophic, that you don't even realize it's happening until it's too late?
Yeah. That was me.
Because here's the thing: I didn't say yes.
I mean, obviously. What kind of self-respecting person just agrees to belong to someone just because they say so? Not me. No sir. I am a strong, independent man who—
Okay, fine. I didn't say no, either.
Which, in Sasuke's mind, was as good as a yes.
And that was a problem.
Because Sasuke Uchiha? She doesn't take "no" for an answer. And worse? She doesn't even believe in "maybe."
So when I just sat there, blinking up at her, brain officially blue-screened, she just… moved on. Like it was settled. Like she'd won.
Which—spoiler alert—she had.
I just didn't know it yet.
Because for the next few weeks, nothing really changed.
Except that it did.
It was subtle at first. Just little things.
Like how Sasuke started walking me home every day, no matter where I was or what I was doing. Oh, you're out shopping? I'll carry your bags. Oh, you're grabbing coffee? Guess I'm getting one too. Oh, you're at home, alone, minding your business? Not anymore.
Or how she always somehow ended up next to me. At restaurants. At parties. At the grocery store. At the nail salon.
Or how she just started touching me.
Nothing crazy. Just little, casual things. A hand on my lower back. A thumb rubbing circles on my wrist. A casual, totally unnecessary arm around my shoulders.
And you know what the worst part was?
I let her.
Like a dumbass.
Like a full-on, tail-wagging, heart-eyed dumbass.
Because—look. You don't understand. She's so warm. And strong. And big. And I don't mean just, you know, that part. (Okay, fine, I also mean that part, but focus, people!)
It was her whole presence. It was the way she made me feel safe. The way I just fit against her, like I was meant to be there. Like her hands were made to hold me.
And oh my god, I'm an idiot.
Because if I had a single functioning brain cell, I would have realized exactly what was happening.
I wasn't just losing.
I had already lost.
I was falling.
And the worst part?
Sasuke knew it.
She knew it, and she was enjoying it.
I could see it in her eyes. In the way she would smirk at me whenever I got flustered. In the way she would hum, all smug and pleased, whenever I leaned into her touch without thinking.
She was toying with me.
Like a cat with a mouse.
Like a fox with a rabbit.
Like a woman who had already decided I belonged to her, and was just waiting for me to realize it too.
And, well.
I'd like to say I put up a fight.
But we all know how this ends.
Thing 4: The Thing About Falling
Okay. So.
You ever have one of those moments where you realize, oh no, I've made a mistake?
Like, you're just going about your life, sipping your little drink, minding your own business, and then bam—suddenly, you're standing on the edge of a cliff, staring down into an abyss, and you just know you're about to fall?
Yeah. That was me.
Except instead of a cliff, it was Sasuke's lap.
And instead of falling, it was being placed there.
Very deliberately.
With intent.
Let me back up.
It started, as most of my worst decisions do, with a small, stupid choice that I did not think through at all.
I was cold. That's it. That's the whole crime.
It was one of those late nights where the air is crisp, and you can feel autumn creeping in, and I—being the absolute genius that I am—was in a skirt. Because of course I was.
And Sasuke, being Sasuke, noticed.
"You're shivering," she said.
Now, listen. There were a lot of reasonable responses I could have given. I could have said, yeah, it's cold, but I'm fine. I could have played it cool, laughed it off, maybe even moved closer to a reasonable source of warmth, like a blanket.
But no.
I, in all my infinite wisdom, huffed and crossed my arms and went, "So warm me up."
And then immediately realized my mistake.
Because Sasuke?
She does not bluff.
So before I even had time to process what I'd just said, before I could even think about walking it back, her hands were on me.
Big. Warm. Decisive.
And suddenly—suddenly, I wasn't sitting on the couch anymore.
Suddenly, I was sitting on her.
On her lap.
Which, for the record, is very different from just sitting next to her. Because when you sit next to someone, there's still distance. There's still space.
When you sit on them?
There's nothing.
Just heat. And weight. And the overwhelming realization that Sasuke's hands are huge and solid and resting so casually on my hips like they belong there.
And I—I don't move.
I don't breathe.
Because if I do, I might explode.
Or worse—I might do something really, really stupid.
Like press closer. Like let myself relax into the warmth of her body. Like bury my face in her neck and just—let it happen.
And oh god, she knows.
I can feel it in the way her hands tighten, just a little. In the slow, deliberate drag of her thumb against my waist. In the way she shifts, spreading her legs just a little wider, adjusting me, making sure I feel exactly how big she is beneath me.
And suddenly, I can't breathe.
Because this—this is not a game anymore.
This is real.
And I should get up. I should.
But I don't.
Because I—I like this.
And I—I think I might be in trouble.
Because this doesn't feel like playing.
This feels like falling.
Thing 5: The Thing About Giving In
Okay. So.
You ever just make a really bad decision?
Like, the kind of decision where you know—deep in your stupid, fluffy little soul—that you should stop, you should run, you should do literally anything else besides what you're about to do?
Yeah.
That was me.
Because here's the thing—here's the really unforgivable part:
I didn't get off her lap.
I should have. I could have. I could've played it off, laughed, made a joke, done anything to defuse the situation. But no.
Instead, I sat there. On her.
And worse?
I got comfortable.
I shifted just a little, adjusting my position. Letting myself sink into the warmth of her body, her muscles firm beneath me, her hands—oh god, her hands—settling heavy on my waist.
And she let me.
Oh no.
Oh no.
Because that? That was not normal. That was not how normal people behaved. That was not how best friends casually interacted.
This was something else. Something dangerous. Something that made my stomach twist and my tail flick and my brain completely shut down.
And Sasuke—Sasuke was enjoying this.
She didn't say anything. She didn't have to.
She just sat there, calm and patient, hands warm and solid on my waist, her thumbs rubbing slow, lazy circles against my hips.
And then she hummed.
Like she was pleased.
Like she had already won.
Like I was a little pet who had finally, finally decided to curl up in her lap where I belonged.
And—okay.
That should not have made my stomach flip.
But it did.
Because the thing about Sasuke?
She never asks for things.
She just waits.
Waits for you to figure it out.
Waits for you to give in.
And oh god, I was giving in.
I was.
Because my body was so traitorous, my stupid, adorable, fluffy-tailed body, which was currently leaning into her like some kind of helpless little thing.
And she knew it.
I could feel it in the way her hands flexed against me. The way her grip tightened just slightly, testing, teasing, like she was seeing how far I'd let her go.
And the worst part?
I didn't want to stop her.
I wanted—
Oh no.
Oh no.
Because that was the moment I realized.
I didn't just like this.
I wanted it.
I wanted her.
And I was so, so screwed.
Thing 6: The Thing About Wanting
Okay. So.
You ever have that moment where you realize you've been lying to yourself?
Like, really lying. The kind of lie where, if you think about it too hard, your entire reality might collapse?
Yeah.
That was me.
Because the second I admitted—really admitted—that I wanted her, everything changed.
No, seriously.
Like, the air changed. The room changed. Sasuke changed.
Because suddenly, she wasn't just sitting there, letting me exist on her lap like some dumb little pet.
She was watching me.
Like a predator.
Like she was waiting.
Waiting for me to realize what she already knew.
And god, I could feel it.
The weight of her hands on my waist. The warmth of her body beneath me. The way her thumbs moved in slow, deliberate circles, making my skin burn through the thin fabric of my clothes.
And me?
Oh, I was a mess.
Because the second I realized I wanted this, I couldn't un-want it.
I couldn't pretend it was nothing. Couldn't pretend I didn't like the way she touched me, the way she looked at me, the way she made me feel so small and warm and—
No.
I had to get up.
Had to get away before I did something stupid.
So I—very bravely—placed my hands on her shoulders and pushed.
Or, well. I tried to push.
But Sasuke?
She did not move.
Not even a little.
Instead, she tilted her head, slowly, like she was just so deeply, profoundly amused by my pathetic little attempt to escape.
And then—oh god—then she did the worst thing imaginable.
She leaned in.
Not close enough to touch.
Not close enough to kiss.
But close enough to make my breath hitch, close enough that I could feel the heat of her lips just hovering over my own, close enough that the next move—
Was mine.
And I?
Oh, I panicked.
Because if I stayed there for even one more second, I was going to do something stupid.
So I did the only logical thing.
I scrambled out of her lap, nearly fell on my face, and practically ran out of the room.
Which, in hindsight?
Yeah. That was also stupid.
Because as I left, I heard it—
That low, knowing, completely unfairly attractive hum of amusement.
Like she had already won.
Like she was just waiting for me to come crawling back.
And the worst part?
The absolute worst part?
She was right.
Thing 7: The Thing About Denial
Okay. So.
You ever try to run from a problem, only to realize it's faster than you?
Yeah.
That was me.
Because I ran. I fled. Like a prey animal. Like a tiny, fluffy-tailed idiot who thought, for one glorious moment, that he could actually escape.
I avoided Sasuke for two whole days.
Two days of dodging her calls. Two days of suddenly being very busy whenever she showed up. Two days of hiding like an absolute coward because I knew—I knew—if I saw her again, she'd look at me with those infuriatingly smug eyes, and I'd—
I'd lose.
Again.
But here's the thing.
You can't outrun Sasuke Uchiha.
And honestly? I should have known better.
Because on the third day, she caught me.
I was at home, curled up on my couch, pretending to be interested in some dumb TV show, pretending I wasn't a complete disaster over the fact that my best friend was very much trying to claim me as hers, when—
Knock. Knock.
Oh no.
Oh no.
I froze. Stared at the door like it had personally offended me.
Maybe if I ignored it, she'd go away. Maybe—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Nope.
No, that was not a go-away kind of knock. That was an I know you're in there, open the damn door kind of knock.
And me? Like the fool that I am?
I opened it.
And there she was.
Tall. Gorgeous. Irritatingly calm.
Her arms were crossed, her weight shifted slightly to one side, and she was looking at me—in that way that made my stomach twist, in that way that made my tail flick and my breath catch and my knees feel a little too weak.
"Are you done?" she asked.
I blinked. "Done with what?"
Her eyes narrowed.
Oh god. Oh god.
She knew.
She knew I'd been avoiding her. She knew why. And worse? She was enjoying this.
I scowled, crossing my arms to try and look like I had any kind of control over this situation. "I don't know what you're talking about."
She didn't say anything.
She just—tilted her head.
Like she was studying me. Like she was peeling me apart with her stupid, stupid eyes.
And then she took a step forward.
Not enough to touch me. Not enough to push inside.
But enough to loom.
And my heart—oh god, my heart betrayed me.
Because it sped up.
Because Sasuke was so warm and so big and so much, and my body knew it, even if my brain was trying to pretend otherwise.
Her lips quirked. "Liar."
My ears flicked. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me." She took another step, slow, deliberate, predatory, and suddenly, I was backing up. Inside.
And—oh no. Oh no.
Because the second I moved, she followed.
She closed the door behind her.
And then—then she just… stood there.
Like she belonged there. Like this was already her space.
And I—I was not handling it well.
Because it was happening again.
That thing where she got too close and made it too easy to want her.
And the worst part?
I wasn't running.
I wasn't even trying.
Because deep, deep down, beneath all my pathetic, completely useless denial, I already knew.
I knew she was right.
I wanted this.
I just wasn't ready to say it yet.
But Sasuke?
Oh, she had all the patience in the world.
Because she just smirked, leaned in close, and murmured—
"Take your time."
Like she already knew exactly how this was going to end.
Thing 8: The Thing About Belonging
Okay. So.
You ever just… give up?
Not in a bad way. Not in an oh no, life is hard, let me cry in a corner kind of way.
No.
I mean in the dangerously satisfying, completely inevitable, holy shit why did I fight this for so long kind of way.
Yeah.
That was me.
Because here's the thing.
I was so tired.
Tired of pretending. Tired of lying to myself. Tired of acting like I didn't already belong to her.
Because let's be honest—Sasuke had me from the moment she decided she wanted me.
I just didn't want to admit it.
But standing there, inside my apartment, inside my space that didn't even feel like mine anymore because she had already made it hers—
I realized something.
I wanted her to have me.
I wanted to be hers.
And the second I let myself accept it, everything clicked.
The tension that had been eating me alive for weeks? Gone.
The stupid war I'd been fighting against myself? Over.
And Sasuke?
She felt it.
I know she did.
Because the moment my shoulders relaxed, the moment my tail stopped flicking nervously and settled low, soft and willing, her whole body shifted.
No more waiting.
No more teasing.
She just moved.
Strong, sure hands caught my waist—no hesitation, no testing, no asking. Just taking.
And me?
I let her.
I melted into it, into her, hands fisting in the fabric of her shirt, holding on like I'd been waiting for this my whole life.
And maybe I had.
Because the second her lips brushed against mine, everything else disappeared.
My nerves. My thoughts. My past life as an independent man who thought he could resist this.
Gone.
I was all in.
I kissed her like I was made for it.
Like I was meant to be here.
Because I was.
And Sasuke?
Oh, she knew it.
She made this deep, satisfied sound—finally—and then I was off the ground, legs wrapped around her, carried like I weighed nothing.
She walked us straight to my room, straight to our future, and I didn't fight it.
Didn't even think about it.
Because this was what I wanted.
To be hers.
To be kept.
To be loved so thoroughly I would never doubt it again.
And when she laid me down, caged me in, kissed me like she was claiming me down to my soul—
I let her.
Because I was never running again.
Because she was mine.
And I was already hers.
And soon?
Soon, I'd be her adorable little pregnant housewife.
Not that I knew that yet.
But oh.
I would.
Thing 9: The Thing About Forever
Okay. So.
You ever look back on your life and think, Wow. I really didn't stand a chance, did I?
Yeah.
That was me.
Because listen—I could sit here and tell you that I fought this, that I resisted, that I put up some kind of respectable struggle before ending up exactly where Sasuke wanted me.
But we both know that's a lie.
Because now?
Now I'm sitting at the kitchen table, very pregnant, sipping tea while Sasuke—my wife, my terrifyingly devoted, dangerously obsessed wife—hovers over me like a seven-foot-tall menace.
"Are you comfortable?" she asks, like this is the first time she's checked in the last ten minutes.
I blink at her. "Sasuke, babe. I'm sitting."
"I know."
She doesn't sound like she knows.
She sounds like she's about three seconds away from tucking me into bed and personally feeding me by hand like some kind of helpless little thing.
Which, to be fair, I am pretty helpless these days.
Because being pregnant? Not easy.
I mean, I look adorable, obviously. But my balance is shot, my emotions are a mess, and Sasuke—Sasuke is worse than ever.
And by worse, I mean completely, utterly, 1000% obsessed with me.
Like, more than before. Which is saying something.
"Eat your snack," she orders, sitting down next to me, big, solid, so warm, and oh god, so pleased with herself as she watches me obediently nibble on the fruit she cut up for me.
Because here's the thing about Sasuke?
She wins.
Always.
And she's so damn smug about it.
Because she got exactly what she wanted.
Me.
In her house. In her bed. In her life.
Carrying her babies.
Yeah.
I said babies.
Plural.
Because of course we're having twins. Of course Sasuke's overly competitive, testosterone-infused genetics decided one wasn't enough.
And you know what?
I should be stressed about this. I should be freaking out.
But I'm not.
Because Sasuke loves me.
Like, in a crazy, overwhelming, deeply unsettling but also really, really hot kind of way.
She worships me.
She makes me feel safe.
And yeah, I'm huge and emotional and constantly dealing with her ridiculous level of doting—
But I'm happy.
And maybe—just maybe—this was the plan all along.
Not mine, obviously.
Because I never had a chance.
But Sasuke?
She's been planning this from the very beginning.
And honestly?
I wouldn't have it any other way.
Because I am exactly where I'm meant to be.
Forever.