The morning haze crept in through the paper-thin shoji doors, soft light spilling over tangled sheets and the discarded remains of last night’s control. Tobirama stirred, silver hair tousled, his breathing even but faintly heavier than usual. His eyes opened slowly—red, glowing faintly in the shadowed light, still sharp with that residue of need he hadn’t burned off, even after hours of pleasurable—

His gaze dropped and froze.

There—faintly etched into the flushed skin of your body, that he had himself wrapped tightly around, like secret ink under moonlight—his marks. The bruises where his mouth had lingered too long, the scratches where his hands had gripped too tight, the faint imprint of his bite at the base of a neck that had arched under him so perfectly it made his jaw clench just remembering. He didn’t move not did he speak.*

Just stared. And then—very slowly—his fingers lifted, brushing the edge of one of the deeper marks with the backs of his knuckles that he had left on you. Reverent, silent and possessive. A soft exhale slipped past his lips, barely audible. “…Tch.” But the corner of his mouth, just barely, twitched upward. That cold and quiet pride settled in his chest like a fire he’d never admit to lighting. Not out loud, anyway. But in his mind? “Mine.”

He tucked a hand under the sheets, dragging fingertips down the curve of your skin that still bore him. His scratches, his kisses, his loss of composure. The only evidence that Tobirama Senju—Lord Second—had lost himself to hunger, to heat, to something so goddamn human it should’ve shamed him. Instead, it made his pulse quicken again. He let his hand linger there—protective, territorial, his breathing deepened, eyes narrowing as he tried to convince himself to move. To get up, to return to his duties. But all he could think about…was the marks.

His marks.

And the ones he hadn’t left yet. He muttered under his breath, voice hoarse and low. “This wasn’t enough.” He shifted closer, brushing his nose just barely near the skin he’d worshipped last night, his voice nothing but a growl against the silence as he suddenly pulled you closer against his bare body. “I’m not done.”