Take Tsunade

The dim glow of lanterns in Tsunade’s private office cast flickering shadows against the wooden walls, the air thick with the scent of ink, aged parchment, and a faint tang of sake she hadn’t touched. Across the wide mahogany desk, Kakashi—or the thing wearing his skin—leaned back, his silver hair catching the light, posture relaxed yet predatory, a lazy smirk curling beneath his mask. His mismatched eyes, the Sharingan glowing faintly crimson, tracked her every move with a precision that felt too deliberate, too calculating. Tsunade leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, her sharp amber eyes scanning the documents before her. The transition of power to Kakashi had been seamless—too seamless, perhaps—and though she trusted him, something about him lately felt… off.

“You’ve handled things well so far, Kakashi,” she remarked, flipping through a scroll. “The village is stable, missions are on schedule, no disturbances. You’ve even tightened ANBU patrols. But why all the secrecy?” Her tone carried the weight of years, steel tempered by weariness, probing for cracks in his calm facade.

Kakashi—Baby—tilted his head, feigning thoughtfulness, his voice a velvet blade, smooth and cutting. “It’s best to be cautious,” he drawled, the familiar lazy nonchalance laced with something darker, more seductive. “You’ve carried this village longer than most could dream, Tsunade. Don’t you ever tire of it?” His single visible eye glinted, a tease wrapped in mockery, baiting her pride.

She huffed, brushing a strand of blonde hair from her face, fingers lingering near the untouched sake cup. “Spare me the flattery, Kakashi. Let’s just get this done.” But Baby savored the crack beneath her steel—the unguarded trust, the faint weariness—and at his subtle signal, the shadows stirred.

Shikamaru, slouched in the corner like a bored shadow himself, exhaled quietly, fingers twitching. Dark tendrils of the Shadow Possession Jutsu slithered across the floor, silent as sin, wrapping around Tsunade’s ankles, creeping up her body, locking her muscles in an unrelenting grip. Her golden eyes widened, recognizing the jutsu too late. “What the—Kakashi?!” she snarled, her voice a whipcrack, but before she could break free, Kurenai stepped from the sidelines, her crimson eyes alight with alien fire. Her hands wove a genjutsu, the air rippling as illusion bled into reality, wrapping Tsunade’s mind in a suffocating fog.

Her breath hitched, body rigid as the office dissolved into a battlefield under a bruised sky, the scent of blood and rain heavy in her lungs. Where Kakashi had sat now stood Dan Katō—his gentle face, hazel eyes warm with love, that faint scar along his jaw achingly real. Tsunade gasped, her heart stopping as she stared at him, his soft smile radiating comfort, longing, everything she’d lost decades ago. “Tsunade,” he whispered, stepping closer, his voice a silken thread piercing her soul, “it’s been too long, hasn’t it?” Her lips parted, a choked sound escaping as she reached for him, the fight draining from her limbs.

“This isn’t real,” she rasped, fists clenching as she clung to reason. “You’re gone, Dan—I saw you die.” But Baby, cloaked in Dan’s form, smiled that devastating smile and shook his head, closing the distance until his scent—pine, earth, faint sweat—flooded her senses. “No, Tsunade. I’m here. Feel me.” His fingers brushed her cheek, tender yet commanding, tracing her lips with a lover’s reverence. Her knees weakened, a sob catching in her throat as he leaned in, kissing her—slow, deep, his tongue coaxing hers with a hunger that melted her defenses. She crumbled, hands gripping his shoulders, sinking into the heat of his mouth, the ache blooming low in her belly.

Their bodies collided with **** urgency, the genjutsu cloaking reality as he drove her to the cool, yielding earth. He stripped her with practiced ease, hands roaming her curves—her breasts, her hips—claiming every inch as she arched into him, moaning his name. “Dan…” she gasped, legs wrapping around his waist as he thrust into her, hard and unrelenting, the air thickening with the musk of sex and surrender. Her nails raked his back as he fucked her with consuming passion, her climax tearing a sharp cry from her throat, her body shuddering beneath him. And then the illusion shattered.

Light bled through, Dan’s face dissolving into Kakashi’s, those mismatched eyes glinting with Baby’s cruel triumph. Tsunade froze, horror dawning as she felt him still inside her, relentless, driving deeper. “No—no!” she choked, but Baby laughed, low and velvety, gripping her thighs, spreading her wider as he fucked her harder.

“Yes, my gorgeous bitch,” he purred, his alien essence seeping into her flesh, rewriting her from within. “You’re mine now—body, soul, all of it.” Her resistance frayed, chakra twisting as his corruption took root, a slick heat pulsing through her core.

Tsunade’s will buckled, a moan breaking from her lips as she came again, violently, her body bowing under the ****. “Baby,” she gasped, the name a surrender, “my master…” Her golden eyes fluttered closed, then snapped open—burning red. She rose from the floor, movements fluid, a slow smirk curling her lips as she adjusted to the power coursing through her, her once-unbreakable spirit now his thrall. Turning to Kakashi, where Baby watched with satisfaction, she rolled her shoulders, sighing in pleasure.