The tent was quiet. Except for her breath — soft, ragged — and yours.

Your fingertips grazed beneath her shirt, slow and careful, waiting for her to flinch. But she didn’t. She arched into you.

Her eyes, dark and wide, locked with yours — and her cheeks were flushed pink, lips swollen from kissing, chest rising and falling with every shaky inhale.

Still… she didn’t look away.

“I want you,” she said softly, trembling but firm. “Even if I don’t know how to ask for it.”

You kissed her again — deeper this time. Her mouth opened under yours, heat pulsing between you, and she made a sound so quiet it barely escaped her throat. Her hands slid up your back, nails raking lightly over your skin as your bodies pressed together, cloth on cloth, tension between.

You dipped your head to her neck — kissed it, then dragged your lips down slowly. She tilted her head for you without thinking, gasping when your teeth grazed the skin just above her collarbone.

“D-Don’t stop…”

And you didn’t.

Her shirt came off first — carefully, reverently. You took your time kissing every inch of exposed skin, watching the way her body reacted. The way her breath caught when your tongue barely touched her, the way her back arched when you whispered her name against her stomach.

She wasn’t silent anymore.

She gasped when your hands moved lower. She moaned when you gripped her thighs and pulled her closer, spreading her knees apart as her whole body trembled beneath your touch.

“You’re driving me crazy,” she whispered, eyes hazy, voice breathless. “Please—don’t be gentle.”

That’s when you realized — she didn’t want soft. She wanted release. All that restraint, all that shyness — it had been a dam holding back something deeper.

Something desperate.

You kissed her hard. Deep. Hands tangled in her hair, your hips pinning her down. She clung to you, pulling you closer, needier with every second.

You whispered against her ear:

“Say what you want, Hinata.”

She shuddered.

And then, voice shaking:

“I want you to ruin me…”