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Naruto's Succcccccccccccccccccc

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It is a beautiful day in Konoha. The birds are blooming, the flowers are singing. On days like these, kids like Naruto are stuck in his office doing Hokage shit because he’s the Hokage now. Like his entire dream come true except he never wanted to do this paperwork. It’s bullshit. He didn’t even ask to be born.

“How dare I be born without my permission,” he mutters at the massive, human sized stack of papers on his desk. “I don’t even have parents. Who the fuck was I born to.”

There’s quick knocking on the door to his office, like an annoying pig trying to just do her job, and he can smell the bacon. But not actual bacon. More like Ino’s shitty perfume but that’s another story. Right now, he’s thinking about bacon. Not the overly crispy bacon, but the good kind, the kind that still has a little fat on it, the kind that he likes to eat in the morning now that he doesn’t have ramen for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. (Just kidding yes he does).

She doesn’t wait for him to answer the door. Instead, she just walks in like she owns the place or some shit. How dare she.

“Hey Narushit it’s time for your morning succ,” she announces loudly so that literally the entire village can hear. Naruto is pretty sure Sasuke could hear, which means he has some shit to deal with when he gets home.


“Yeah, succ, loser. Drop those drawers,” she says, walking behind him and pulling his chair away from the desk. She moves to kneel between his knees.

“Wait what woah hold on there hoe,” he says, kicking at her. “I hired you as my secretary.”

“Yeah, succretary.”

“Ino no secretary .”

“Yeah. Succretary.”

“Ino you dumb bitch i said s e c r e t a r y”

“Do you want me to blow you or not”

“Yeah I guess,” he admits. She undoes his trousers, releasing his still mostly soft manhood. Who wouldn’t get partial chub when looking into those robins egg blue orbs.

She frowns at what’s in her hand. She expected more from the Hokage.

She holds it steady and guides the babymaking stick into her sopping wet mouth hole. If there was ever a time where her overactive salivary glands didn’t pose a problem, it’s when giving some mediocre succ. Naruto has absolutely no reaction, because no one is as good as Sasuke. Everyone knows that. Actually everyone. Except the heated glaze over his dark blues tells her that she’s doing something right with the swimming pool she’s submerged his now throbbing muscle rod into. Her mouth muscle probes at all the right places. Yes, she’s good at succ.

Naruto pulls her head back and makes her stand up, hiking her skirt over her hips and pushing her down over the desk. Her danger clam is as wet as her mouth, and he has no problem ignoring the scent and slipping his pingle-pangle (hyphenated, of course, we aren’t heathens) into her. He punishes her with his pingy, touchin all up on her insides, while she whimpers someone else’s name. That’s okay, he’s thinking about someone else too.

Once his manrection is nearing detonation, he removes it from her cooter, instead allowing his sea of children who never asked to be born to wash upon her not even exposed back. He’s ruined her clothing.

“Thanx Naruhoe,” she says, straightening up. “Don’t forget to finish all this paperwork that I definitely not on purpose shoved all over the floor.”

He glared into her orbs with his orbs, into her blues with his blues, there’s so much blue happening, there’s so much glaring, there’s so much soul searching that Ino blushes and looks away.

“Make sure you bring me a plate of bacon,” he tells her. “The good kind. Not the crispy kind. I’m hungry af”

She nods, and takes her leave.

Naruto doesn’t have to look to know there’s a glaring Sasuke sitting in the window.