Fanfiction : Naruto - NaruIno in 30 Kisses #20
Title: Going Home.
Type: Fanfiction : Naruto.
Prompt: Themes taken from 30_kisses. #20 The Road Home.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. Kishimoto does, but he sucks at it.
Rating: PG15. For language.
Word Count: 1,616 words.
Summary: Where Ino was waiting, Naruto got lost and there's porn in the making. [ NaruIno ]. On-going.
Author's Note: The annoying fourth installation that did not like to be written. Enjoy anyway. And feedbacks are eternally loved!
going home
Jiraiya was a great ninja, extremely skilled right to the ends of his ghastly white hair and blessed with the sharp mind of a seasoned survivor. One of Konoha’s Three Sannin, he carried himself with an elusive sort of dignity (if he was not pissed drunk in some tavern or fawning over anything in a skirt) found in those with boundless experience in life. His network was one of the best; a cobweb of reliable sources consisted of, more often than not, non-human (specifically: slimy, hopping creatures). He was also the member of an exclusive group of people that could withstand Tsunade’s post-menopause monthly rampage without being mentally and physically damaged. That and that alone should have given anyone enough reason to worship him.
Right at that time though, Naruto thought that Jiraiya was one heck of a smelly, perverted piece of human trash.
“Ero-sennin,” the blond jounin’s voice was uncharacteristically low and levelled as he all but hissed out that particular term of endearment to the man crouching besides him. It could probably be explained by the fact that they were hiding inside a bush, behind a crowded bathhouse. Splashes of water and unmistakably feminine giggles could be heard resounding from the building. Naruto shifted silently on his sandals and glared at the white-haired hermit. His eyes were positively livid with suppressed fury. “What does this has anything to do with expanding your network?”
Jiraiya grinned, all gleaming teeth and lecherous intention carved as plain as the wrinkles on his face. “This, my boy, is the height of networking itself.”
“You can’t tell voyeurism and networking apart if both of ‘em are dancing naked in front of you right now,” Naruto snapped in annoyance, glancing warily at the well-lit building some feet away before them. His apprehension was quite justified, as he had encountered more than enough angry females in his lifetime. The experience was not pleasant, so to say.
“I’ll have you know that nakedness never sits well with me,” the Sannin countered smartly.
His expression reminded Naruto to that of a famished wolf. The jounin scoffed. “I wonder why.” He shot Jiraiya another glare, before straightening up and flicked stray leaves off his dark green vest. “It’s been fun knowing you. I’ll remember to write up a nice little obituary for your funeral.”
Jiraiya blinked, jaw hanging slack. “Wha-?”
A quick succession of hand seals and a puff of grey smoke later revealed a shapely blonde (showing off more skin than public decency would ever allow) sneering at the Sannin with something akin to impish mischief on her whiskered face. It was a truly classic prank, really. Should’ve seen that coming. Before Jiraiya could form a single coherent sentence and/or launch himself at the near-naked female (granted it was Naruto; boobs were boobs), he was cut off by a high-pitched shriek and a palm connecting rather painfully with his slack jaw.
Sannin or not, Jiraiya found himself reeling backward from the unexpected attack.
“Pervert! Get off me!”
The cheerful atmosphere around the bathhouse dramatically stilled at Naruto’s exclamation, replaced almost instantaneously by dark clouds of ominous hostility. Jiraiya blinked owlishly, placing a hand over his throbbing jaw. He was too busy ogling at Naruto’s curvaceous, pseudo female form to notice the stampede of estrogens carriers coming up towards him from the then abandoned bathhouse. It was only when the enraged females loomed above him with raised wooden buckets that the Sannin realized how screwed he was.
Total mayhem ensued.
It was quite a satisfactory mission, Naruto (in his normal, non-near-nude form) reflected as he sauntered leisurely towards the small inn where Jiraiya and he had been staying for the last two weeks. Although the Akatsuki had suddenly sniffed up their trails in the middle of Jiraiya’s monthly networking support work, they had managed to escape relatively unharmed, except for several close calls and stray rouges. Indignant shouts and shrieks resounded from somewhere behind him, where the white-haired toad hermit was being thoroughly pummelled by the group of female bathers. Naruto glanced back to make sure that Jiraiya was still intact. After ensuring that the Sannin would live through the beating, the blond continued his way to inn. He wanted to pack up his things and return to Konoha that very evening. He had wasted too much time catering to Jiraiya’s ridiculous whims. Even owing the old pervert his life didn’t count much when he thought of those who waited for him back home.
His mind immediately conjured up an image of a beautiful platinum blonde, stretched out seductively on his bed, wearing nothing but his worn bed sheet.
It took Naruto almost half an hour to stop the nosebleed that the mental image caused.
Upon arriving at the inn, Naruto immediately gathered what meagre belongings he had (amongst Jiraiya’s scattered research notes) and went to see the couple that owned the place. The process of settling the payment took longer than usual as the innkeeper’s five-year-old daughter refused to let him go, declaring with teary eyes that she wanted to marry him. Naruto rued the day he bought the little girl a box of plum candies (because she reminded him of Ume). He was rescued by her bemused parents, and with a promise to visit them again in the future, Naruto took off towards the general direction of Konoha, his mind fully occupied by his students’ cheerful young faces and enthusiastic bouts of sex marathon with his lovely girlfriend. Nothing could ever stop him from getting to Konoha before nightfall!
.
.
.
.
Naruto was lost. As in, lost lost. Without one heck on an idea where he was.
The dense fence of trees around him swayed in unison, as if mocking the blond and the predicament in which he was in. Naruto gritted his teeth, feeling a surge of homicidal aura boiling through his inner coils and forcing through his tightly-reined control. Crimson, malevolent chakra cackled sinisterly and poured out of him like tidal waves, pronouncing the lines of fury carved into his face and the threatening cracks from his whitening knuckles. The crickets stopped chirping, as though sensing the danger stirring in the atmosphere. Birds abandoned their nest in flocks to save dear lives. Naruto narrowed his eyes and glared at his innocent backpack, whose content had been dumped onto the forest’s floor in his earlier search for his missing map.
Said map was currently in the hands of one Toad Sannin, to whom Naruto remembered giving for safekeeping on their first day of journey.
“DAMMIT!”
Crimson chakra exploded in spikes of power, leaving behind a twenty-something-feet radius of barren land and a gasping blond.
.
.
.
.
Yamanaka Ino tapped her booted foot impatiently, staring alternately for the umpteenth times at her watch and the big gates of Konoha.
He was late.
She loathed waiting.
Team One was also there, nervously standing as far as possible from Ino, who was mumbling under her breathe (they heard ‘spikes’ and ‘chains’ repeated quite often in the monologue) while radiating some kind of a murderous aura. After training under the Head of Torture and Interrogation Department for nearly two weeks, the three genins knew better than to add fuel to the fire. They had the unfortunate opportunity to experience Yamanaka Ino’s fury first hand during their first three days with her. Thus, Team One employed a rather smart and safe technique; they pretended to not be there. If it wasn’t for the fact that Naruto was their sensei (and that he promised to treat them to ramen once he got back), Shinichi, Ume and Shinji would rather be anywhere else than their current spot against the observation tower’s cold wall. Gamakichi, sitting comfortably on Ume’s floppy hat and suckling on an orange peel, seemed to agree with the genins.
“Yamanaka-san, Jiraiya-sama just reported in at the gates,” informed a brown-haired guard, warily eyeing the kunoichi besides him before continuing, “Without Uzumaki-san.”
Ino’s eyes, if possible, turned a greyer shade of stormy blue.
Team One cringed in terror and scooted farther away from their temporary sensei.
Jiraiya, oblivious of the tense atmosphere inside the control room, jumped into the room and exclaimed loudly, “The Great Jiraiya is BACK, baby!”
Utter silence greeted his ‘grand’ entrance.
Yamanaka Ino slowly turned to the Toad Sannin, chakra flaring dangerously. “Where. Is. That. Idiot?”
Jiraiya blinked, and took a step back. “Who?”
Ino raised an eyebrow. “Your idiot student. Naruto.”
Finally realizing the signs of danger, the white-haired hermit inched closer to the door. His spine was tingling from a sense of dread. “Er… I don’t know?”
The raised eyebrow twitched. “Did you lose him on your way back?”
“I was at the bath house with Naruto and-”
And thus, with that inappropriate answer, all Hell broke loose.
.
.
.
.
Two weeks later…
A dishevelled, unshaven and sexually-frustrated Uzumaki Naruto appeared at the doorstep of one Yamanaka Ino, who was currently standing in the doorway in nothing but a furry bathrobe and purple slippers. The former was trying to coherently relate his unlucky adventure into the Fire Country’s wilderness without ogling too much at the revealed skin displayed in front of his starving eyes. The latter was patiently listening to former’s desperate ramble, one hand playing with a newly-sharpened kunai while another idly toyed with the knot that held her bathrobe close. After giving Naruto approximately twenty minutes to try and explain himself, Ino finally took pity upon the young man’s plight and invited him into her apartment.
Lots of French-kissing and tongue actions commenced soon afterwards.
As well as naughty, NC17-rated activities that ought not to be written in a PG15 fanfic.
TBC
Feeback and concrit are love!
Type: Fanfiction : Naruto.
Prompt: Themes taken from 30_kisses. #20 The Road Home.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. Kishimoto does, but he sucks at it.
Rating: PG15. For language.
Word Count: 1,616 words.
Summary: Where Ino was waiting, Naruto got lost and there's porn in the making. [ NaruIno ]. On-going.
Author's Note: The annoying fourth installation that did not like to be written. Enjoy anyway. And feedbacks are eternally loved!
going home
Jiraiya was a great ninja, extremely skilled right to the ends of his ghastly white hair and blessed with the sharp mind of a seasoned survivor. One of Konoha’s Three Sannin, he carried himself with an elusive sort of dignity (if he was not pissed drunk in some tavern or fawning over anything in a skirt) found in those with boundless experience in life. His network was one of the best; a cobweb of reliable sources consisted of, more often than not, non-human (specifically: slimy, hopping creatures). He was also the member of an exclusive group of people that could withstand Tsunade’s post-menopause monthly rampage without being mentally and physically damaged. That and that alone should have given anyone enough reason to worship him.
Right at that time though, Naruto thought that Jiraiya was one heck of a smelly, perverted piece of human trash.
“Ero-sennin,” the blond jounin’s voice was uncharacteristically low and levelled as he all but hissed out that particular term of endearment to the man crouching besides him. It could probably be explained by the fact that they were hiding inside a bush, behind a crowded bathhouse. Splashes of water and unmistakably feminine giggles could be heard resounding from the building. Naruto shifted silently on his sandals and glared at the white-haired hermit. His eyes were positively livid with suppressed fury. “What does this has anything to do with expanding your network?”
Jiraiya grinned, all gleaming teeth and lecherous intention carved as plain as the wrinkles on his face. “This, my boy, is the height of networking itself.”
“You can’t tell voyeurism and networking apart if both of ‘em are dancing naked in front of you right now,” Naruto snapped in annoyance, glancing warily at the well-lit building some feet away before them. His apprehension was quite justified, as he had encountered more than enough angry females in his lifetime. The experience was not pleasant, so to say.
“I’ll have you know that nakedness never sits well with me,” the Sannin countered smartly.
His expression reminded Naruto to that of a famished wolf. The jounin scoffed. “I wonder why.” He shot Jiraiya another glare, before straightening up and flicked stray leaves off his dark green vest. “It’s been fun knowing you. I’ll remember to write up a nice little obituary for your funeral.”
Jiraiya blinked, jaw hanging slack. “Wha-?”
A quick succession of hand seals and a puff of grey smoke later revealed a shapely blonde (showing off more skin than public decency would ever allow) sneering at the Sannin with something akin to impish mischief on her whiskered face. It was a truly classic prank, really. Should’ve seen that coming. Before Jiraiya could form a single coherent sentence and/or launch himself at the near-naked female (granted it was Naruto; boobs were boobs), he was cut off by a high-pitched shriek and a palm connecting rather painfully with his slack jaw.
Sannin or not, Jiraiya found himself reeling backward from the unexpected attack.
“Pervert! Get off me!”
The cheerful atmosphere around the bathhouse dramatically stilled at Naruto’s exclamation, replaced almost instantaneously by dark clouds of ominous hostility. Jiraiya blinked owlishly, placing a hand over his throbbing jaw. He was too busy ogling at Naruto’s curvaceous, pseudo female form to notice the stampede of estrogens carriers coming up towards him from the then abandoned bathhouse. It was only when the enraged females loomed above him with raised wooden buckets that the Sannin realized how screwed he was.
Total mayhem ensued.
It was quite a satisfactory mission, Naruto (in his normal, non-near-nude form) reflected as he sauntered leisurely towards the small inn where Jiraiya and he had been staying for the last two weeks. Although the Akatsuki had suddenly sniffed up their trails in the middle of Jiraiya’s monthly networking support work, they had managed to escape relatively unharmed, except for several close calls and stray rouges. Indignant shouts and shrieks resounded from somewhere behind him, where the white-haired toad hermit was being thoroughly pummelled by the group of female bathers. Naruto glanced back to make sure that Jiraiya was still intact. After ensuring that the Sannin would live through the beating, the blond continued his way to inn. He wanted to pack up his things and return to Konoha that very evening. He had wasted too much time catering to Jiraiya’s ridiculous whims. Even owing the old pervert his life didn’t count much when he thought of those who waited for him back home.
His mind immediately conjured up an image of a beautiful platinum blonde, stretched out seductively on his bed, wearing nothing but his worn bed sheet.
It took Naruto almost half an hour to stop the nosebleed that the mental image caused.
Upon arriving at the inn, Naruto immediately gathered what meagre belongings he had (amongst Jiraiya’s scattered research notes) and went to see the couple that owned the place. The process of settling the payment took longer than usual as the innkeeper’s five-year-old daughter refused to let him go, declaring with teary eyes that she wanted to marry him. Naruto rued the day he bought the little girl a box of plum candies (because she reminded him of Ume). He was rescued by her bemused parents, and with a promise to visit them again in the future, Naruto took off towards the general direction of Konoha, his mind fully occupied by his students’ cheerful young faces and enthusiastic bouts of sex marathon with his lovely girlfriend. Nothing could ever stop him from getting to Konoha before nightfall!
.
.
.
.
Naruto was lost. As in, lost lost. Without one heck on an idea where he was.
The dense fence of trees around him swayed in unison, as if mocking the blond and the predicament in which he was in. Naruto gritted his teeth, feeling a surge of homicidal aura boiling through his inner coils and forcing through his tightly-reined control. Crimson, malevolent chakra cackled sinisterly and poured out of him like tidal waves, pronouncing the lines of fury carved into his face and the threatening cracks from his whitening knuckles. The crickets stopped chirping, as though sensing the danger stirring in the atmosphere. Birds abandoned their nest in flocks to save dear lives. Naruto narrowed his eyes and glared at his innocent backpack, whose content had been dumped onto the forest’s floor in his earlier search for his missing map.
Said map was currently in the hands of one Toad Sannin, to whom Naruto remembered giving for safekeeping on their first day of journey.
“DAMMIT!”
Crimson chakra exploded in spikes of power, leaving behind a twenty-something-feet radius of barren land and a gasping blond.
.
.
.
.
Yamanaka Ino tapped her booted foot impatiently, staring alternately for the umpteenth times at her watch and the big gates of Konoha.
He was late.
She loathed waiting.
Team One was also there, nervously standing as far as possible from Ino, who was mumbling under her breathe (they heard ‘spikes’ and ‘chains’ repeated quite often in the monologue) while radiating some kind of a murderous aura. After training under the Head of Torture and Interrogation Department for nearly two weeks, the three genins knew better than to add fuel to the fire. They had the unfortunate opportunity to experience Yamanaka Ino’s fury first hand during their first three days with her. Thus, Team One employed a rather smart and safe technique; they pretended to not be there. If it wasn’t for the fact that Naruto was their sensei (and that he promised to treat them to ramen once he got back), Shinichi, Ume and Shinji would rather be anywhere else than their current spot against the observation tower’s cold wall. Gamakichi, sitting comfortably on Ume’s floppy hat and suckling on an orange peel, seemed to agree with the genins.
“Yamanaka-san, Jiraiya-sama just reported in at the gates,” informed a brown-haired guard, warily eyeing the kunoichi besides him before continuing, “Without Uzumaki-san.”
Ino’s eyes, if possible, turned a greyer shade of stormy blue.
Team One cringed in terror and scooted farther away from their temporary sensei.
Jiraiya, oblivious of the tense atmosphere inside the control room, jumped into the room and exclaimed loudly, “The Great Jiraiya is BACK, baby!”
Utter silence greeted his ‘grand’ entrance.
Yamanaka Ino slowly turned to the Toad Sannin, chakra flaring dangerously. “Where. Is. That. Idiot?”
Jiraiya blinked, and took a step back. “Who?”
Ino raised an eyebrow. “Your idiot student. Naruto.”
Finally realizing the signs of danger, the white-haired hermit inched closer to the door. His spine was tingling from a sense of dread. “Er… I don’t know?”
The raised eyebrow twitched. “Did you lose him on your way back?”
“I was at the bath house with Naruto and-”
And thus, with that inappropriate answer, all Hell broke loose.
.
.
.
.
Two weeks later…
A dishevelled, unshaven and sexually-frustrated Uzumaki Naruto appeared at the doorstep of one Yamanaka Ino, who was currently standing in the doorway in nothing but a furry bathrobe and purple slippers. The former was trying to coherently relate his unlucky adventure into the Fire Country’s wilderness without ogling too much at the revealed skin displayed in front of his starving eyes. The latter was patiently listening to former’s desperate ramble, one hand playing with a newly-sharpened kunai while another idly toyed with the knot that held her bathrobe close. After giving Naruto approximately twenty minutes to try and explain himself, Ino finally took pity upon the young man’s plight and invited him into her apartment.
Lots of French-kissing and tongue actions commenced soon afterwards.
As well as naughty, NC17-rated activities that ought not to be written in a PG15 fanfic.
TBC
Feeback and concrit are love!