Konoha (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lumberlady) wrote2015-07-17 11:21 pm
lumberlady) wrote2015-07-17 11:21 pm
smut fics
post first child;
Konoha had fallen asleep against him and Gonta couldn’t bring himself to wake her yet, staring down at her contented face nuzzling against his shoulder as their firstborn daughter continued to suckle at her breast whether her mother had dozed off mid-feeding or not. He waits until the babe begins to fall asleep herself before moving as gently as he can to take her into his arms, murmuring softly so that she wouldn’t fuss.
“Come here, Komatsu… Thatta girl…” Filly extracted, he takes a moment to smile down at her, trace the chubby curve of her cheek, the black whorl of her hair, and the delicate shape of her tiny, pale hooves. She’s so small… even if he weren’t the size he was, even in Konoha’s arms she seems so tiny, and though she didn’t have the shock of thick, rust-colored mane and tail, the black-coated legs and dark hooves… she was perfect. There was a part of him that mourned the lack of obvious traits from Matsukaze, the only man he had known as a father, but she had part of his name. She had part of him, part of Konoha.
Over the years, Gonta had slowly given up on the idea of his own family, his own children. He had Koume to take care of, he had her and Kohibari’s children, and by the time Tanikaze had come along he was already a man himself, so rather than simply a nephew… the boy felt almost like a son. To think that he would be able to have this happiness… to return to the mountain having seen how humans and jinba lived in the years since the tragedy, to be able to trust Tanikaze’s future to the them without hate in his heart… and to know the joy Matsukaze had, looking down at a child and watching them grow up?
“Gonta, what’s wrong?” His young wife’s voice draws him from his reverie, blinking hints of moisture from his eyes as he turns to see her looking up at him, brows furrowed in concern as her hands sleepily move to reach for his face, to brush over his cheek and find a place at the nape of his neck.
“Nothing- Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you…” He trails off as Konoha’s concern melts into a warm smile, as she presses up tighter against him to wrap her arm around their daughter, to pull at the nape of his neck to bring him close enough that she can kiss him, sleepy and affectionate.
“Mm… I love her, too. She’s so beautiful.” Gonta didn’t have any reason to do anything but agree, to kiss her back as Komatsu slipped to sleep in their arms. He might have kissed her longer, far better at actions than words, had she not suddenly pulled back… and started laughing softly, pulling her hands back to cover her mouth and cup her bare, swollen breasts.
“… Ah.” Looking down revealed the source of her laughter- two white, milky stains on the side of his clothing. The expression on his face must have been something else, because Konoha kept laughing, trying her best not to, but… even he had to chuckle in the end, more than used to his share of sick ups and the messiness of childcare after four of Kohibari’s brood. Stretching over to set Komatsu down in her crib, he instead pulls Konoha into his arms with a careless strength that made her giggle.
Gonta didn’t quite know what to do with the surge of gratitude and affection he felt for the woman who had left behind her own family and all she’d ever known for a life beside him in the mountains. He buries his face in her shoulder for a moment while she wraps her arms around him for balance, twisting onto her back to get more comfortable in his hold, back hocks limp in the air.
“I’ll get Komatsu’s dinner all over you- !” She still had laughter on her breath and in her smile, and he can’t help but leave a trail of kisses down her neck, knowing she was slightly ticklish and would squirm in delight, her tail swishing free. After a few months in the mountains, she’d gotten the courage up to leave her hakama behind… and it wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy the view, or how red-faced she’d been the first few days. How red-faced he was now, aroused by her body more than ever since she’d given birth, since he’d been able to see the maternal look on her face and how tenderly she cared for the child she’d carried in her belly the last year.
“I don’t mind.” His reply was a barely audible rumble, kissing down her collarbone, nipping tenderly at her brown flesh before he nuzzles into her bosom, breathing in her scent mixed with the smell of milk, reveling a moment in how her smaller body curls around him, how her forelegs tighten around his waist as her fingers run through his hair, cradling his head against her. How her breathy laughter turns gradually into a soft whimper of conflicted pleasure when his lips find a sensitive, dusky pink nipple, teasing until her flesh tightens and a few drops of milk bead on his tongue.
“Gonta…” Konoha’s voice was warm, finding herself a bit wanting despite her general fatigue and the sleepless nights since Komatsu’s birth, shifting in his arms again as her tail raises in desire, a shiver working slow down her long spine and drawing his gaze back up to her face, to the blush on her cheeks that mirrored the ruddy color on his own.
“I want another baby... I know it’s soon, but-” Hearing that, how could he not surge up, nipping after her words as she kept speaking between kisses, voice beginning to stutter softly and occasionally pitch to a whine as he moved a hand over her flank and began sliding his fingers over her equine chest, along the line of muscle he knew made her back left leg twitch and her hoof kick out.
“I want a big family… and you’re such a good father… and I love the way you-“ As her weight tips backwards she takes him with her until they’re half entwined on the floor of the hut, Gonta being careful as always not to crush her even as he feels more and more distracted by desire, as she spurs him on with sweet words and the way her fingers dig in at his back, find purchase in the thick line of blond mane down lower human spine before it merged seamlessly into palomino coat and withers.
“I’ll give you as many as you want-“ Words had never been his strong point, but his kisses are heated and his hands tender as he can make them, always mindful of his strength, of her smaller frame even though he knew well that she was strong in her own right. The ceiling of their mountain hut wasn’t tall enough to mount, not properly as he knew it, but his wife had spent her life among humans, and she’d introduced him to some… rather peculiar positions.
He shimmies between her legs, breathing heavily as he finds himself unsheathing, hardening as he rubs against her belly, hunching over her as she helps him find a safe place to put his hooves, her forelegs tucked up to her chest and arching up towards him from the waist, pushing up from her hands on the floor to reach him, to wrap her arms around his waist and leave kisses down his chest and stomach.
“Gonta, please-“ Konoha’s little whispers were driving him crazy, and it’s all he can do to give her what she asks, answer the sharp scent of mating desire he can smell coming off her as she awkwardly spreads her back legs, listening to the way her breath hitches into a long, low moan when he finds her entrance and starts pushing in, as she gives up her hold on his waist to fall back against the floor, spine arching and the folds of her open kimono and undone hair spreading across the floor as she tries to keep herself from writhing beneath him, welcoming him into her heat.
“Konoha-“ He rarely spoke in the act, too wrapped up in sensation and movement and coupled with the effort it took to keep from hurting her in attempts to please, but her name he manages as he pushes up against the deepest place he can, collapsing half over her to get closer, to run hands and indulge the instinctual desire to nip and bite, leaving marks along her neck as he begins awkwardly thrusting into her from such an unnaturally low angle. She gasps and whines to each hint of movement, his girth just barely enough for her to handle and the distance between them more than she’d like in order to make this work, yet-
She wants him, she wants another child, she wants the sweet, too-full feeling of him within her, she wants… well, right now maybe she does want to rewind and drag him outside to mount properly, but she’s never shied away from just recklessly jumping into things and seeing them through, and she’s not stopping now that she’s found a grip on him again, one hand buried in his hair behind his neck and another curled around his foreleg, gripping anxiously tight.
She tries to be quiet, gods, Yukikaze and his wife’s hut wasn’t that far away, and Komatsu was asleep, but no matter what sound she makes Gonta’s louder, especially as he begins to pump into her with more vigor, a motion she knows well means he’s close. Konoha does what she can to inspire him, to chase that mounting, pleasing sensation, and when she feels him spill his seed within her it feels so warm that she can’t help but quiver, clutching him close when he buries his face between her breasts and rolls over onto his side, taking her with him in a tangle of hooves and arms.
“Maybe this time it will be a boy…” Gonta nods along to her contented whisper, panting against her skin in between red-faced nuzzles and nips at her milk-stained breasts, joints aching a bit from the relatively odd strain of a jinba breeding that way, but still… He can’t help but imagine. A boy… a son…
The sound of Komatsu’s fussing gradually breaks through the tired, post-coital haze, and Konoha groans before she laughs softly into his hair, extricating herself reluctantly from his arms to stretch over to the crib, fingers skimming over the wood before they reach the child. Her father had carved it, and Mikuni had delivered it on his last visit, and now… she pulls the filly back into her arms, rocking her gently as she returns to Gonta’s side, slipping up next to him with Komatsu between them, her expression softening when she sees the smile on his face, the way he curls protectively around the both of them.
“Yeah… maybe.” And if their next child was another girl, well. ... They could always try again.
first time in post-canon;
Despite all the teasing, all of Sha’s encouragement… Konoha doesn’t find much time after the banquet to cuddle up with Gonta, despite the fact that she’d all but shouted at him to marry her and take her with him to the mountains. Some of the men had broken out asebi liquor, strong enough to intoxicate even a jinba, and it being… sort of a wedding reception, in a way, they certainly couldn’t turn down offers of toasts and cheers, and she wakes up a bit hungover in the corner of the bunkhouse, Gonta’s face nuzzling into her side, his larger form sprawled out on the floor and his arms wrapped loosely around her waist.
She savors it, blushing innocently while the rest of the party-goers snore drunkenly around them, shifting lightly so that he would rest against the softness of her bosom instead of the crook of her arm, running dark fingers through his light hair and biting into her bottom lip a bit excitedly… but before anything can happen Sha’s awake, and then her parents are crying again, and Gonta is hastily fixing her top, which had slipped open a bit in her sleep and the weight of his cheek, and… they’re off.
She cries a little, too, she can’t help it, but they leave her entire life behind and head towards Mt. Tsurugi.
It’s a week’s journey, so she thinks… maybe the next night? But Gonta seems concerned about some animal tracks they passed and volunteers to stay up to watch. So maybe the next night, she thinks, but then he had seemed so tired she didn’t want to do anything but let him sleep… and the next night she was tired…
On the fourth morning, the sun still hiding behind the mountains and fog on the ground… she can’t help it, staring at him beside her as he eats and searching for words until she’s red in the face and her cheeks have puffed up a bit in a combination of embarrassment and indignation, and he can’t help but ask what’s wrong with her… and she can’t help but answer, whispering into her food.
“When I said I wanted you to make me a woman of the mountains… I meant your woman, Gonta.” Had that… somehow not been clear? Had she been completely imagining the past few days, when he said he liked her, too? For a second she thinks she maybe had, because he almost spits out a mouthful of stew, hastily wiping his mouth and putting the bowl down, growing redder than she was in two seconds flat. She’s actually afraid he’s going to choke, panicking and moving to hit him on the back until he recovers, coughing into his hand.
“I, uh-“ She doesn’t know what to do, watching him recover, hide part of his face in his hand and stutter for an explanation. They haven’t done anything but sleep beside each other, barely even held hands, and she’d given up so much, so if this was just-
The kiss shuts her up. Wipes the worried doubts off her features in favor of a muffled noise of surprise, unsure what to do with her hands and panicking until she clutches at his shoulders, presses up anxiously against him and tries to… hells, she doesn’t know. His hands are warm and broad, so strong yet gentle as they cup her cheeks, slide against the sensitive line of jaw and neck, and her hearts are beating so strongly that she fears for a moment they might burst from her body.
They don’t, but she’s still left breathless when he pulls away, chests heaving and staring up at him in a tangled mess of desire and confusion, fingers curling anxiously in his clothing. Was it happening? Was it really going to happen?
“Gonta… ?” He still seemed to be struggling for words, looked about ready to sweat with nervousness like he had just days ago when she’d confessed her feelings, but finally he gets it out, voice low and barely audible despite its usual boom.
“It’s… been a long time, Konoha. For me.” It wasn’t like she didn’t know he was older than her. That she hadn’t come to realize, from the stories Mikuni and Gonta had told her, that not only had Gonta not been around humans before… but that for some time, he hadn’t really been around many jinba either beyond the ones they were going to meet- his elder sister, her children, and their families. But she hadn’t exactly considered how long that might have been… since he’d been around women.
“… Oh.” Smart, Konoha. She could smack herself at how lame a response that was, blushing fiercer as she tries to recover, biting on her lip and fingers tightening in his shirt as she mumbles more towards his chest than his face.
“I’ve… never at all, actually, but. If it’s with Gonta, I… want to…” Like now, she wanted to. Right now. As nervous as she was, a little scared… she’d wanted to for a while now, wanted it even more since she’d told him how she felt and he’d seemed to feel the same… and now here they were, with no one else around, practically married by the standards she’d grown up with, though she doesn’t know how they do it in the mountains, now that she thinks about it, and-
He kisses her again, slow and sweet, and though her thoughts scatter again immediately this time she figures out what to do with her hands, slipping them through his hair, running her fingers along the side of his face, sliding her thumb along the line of his eye patch. It’s such a strange feeling, the contrast between skin roughened by weather and what little of the rippling, unnaturally smooth skin of his burn scar peeked out from behind the fabric, and she can’t stop curiously caressing along it even as her lips part, as she presses against him only to-
“Gonta, wait-“ She pulls away from him to see the confusion now on his face, when she’d been the one to push him for this, only for it to give way to a flash of fear when her fingers fall to the eye patch, just begin to hint at touching it, pulling it away.
“Can I…?” She hesitates, only just starting to peel it from his face, frozen as she searches his expression for permission, the silence growing long as he hesitates, as his remaining eye flicks away… before he nods. Reluctant perhaps though it was… she takes the trust she’s given, carefully pushing the eye patch higher on his face, taking in what was hidden there in the flickering firelight.
It’s awful. The wound is old, she knew it had been when he was just a child, but despite its age it still seemed an angry color, as angry as the flames that must have melted the skin, ruined the eye now a white, scarred marble barely visible beneath healed over flesh. There’s a moment when she can’t speak, upset for just how painful it must have been, how painful the life he had led must have been, in the midst of the war she had been too young to remember… but she also knows that he’s waiting on edge for her reaction.
So she takes his face in her hands and pulls him down to her so that she can place a kiss on his hairless brow, beneath what was left of his eye, on his too-smooth cheek, murmuring kind comforts before she lets him pull the eyepatch back down over his scars. Even though she was just as, if not more nervous than he was, her arms slowly shift to wrap around his neck instead, whining softly as he nips into another kiss, trails them down her neck and nuzzles against her collarbone, breathing heavy. His hands slide down her back, slip beneath the hide wrap around her waist until his fingertips brush her withers before tugging her closer as if she weighed barely nothing, slung half over his forelegs so that he can hold her closer, higher.
Konoha can’t think of any words to use any longer, not yet. It’s easier to just kiss him and hope she isn’t bad at it, pant softly when he nibbles at her neck and squirm in a combination of what she suspects is being ticklish and also increasingly aroused, all too aware of her tail lifting beneath her skirt when she feels her skin bared by his hands pulling her kimono apart, gasping with a sudden arch of spine as his fingers and the crisp morning air both set her nipples to tightening, more flares of unfamiliar sensation that set her nerves aflame. It’s not like she’s never been in heat before, she’s desired as much as any mare, spent a few days each month every spring since she’d blossomed into womanhood really hoping everyone else around her didn’t realize how lustful she felt, but she’d never acted on it.
Just imagined. So, she does her best to act like she had in her fantasies, pressing up into his kiss and trying not to whimper in surprise at each touch and slide of his hand, slipping her own into his clothing and scraping nails appreciatively along his sides, nearly vibrating in a combination of nerves and desire. Part of those fantasies had most definitely involved running her fingers along the chiseled lines of the muscles that had impressed her so much on his first day at the yard, and here she is, actually doing it, tentatively reaching around further to find the curve of his spine, tracing hard lines of strength until she comes to the end of his mane, following it down to where blonde hair became palomino coat and then back up again. An excited bite into her lip at least manages to somewhat stifle a sound somewhere between ticklish laugh and reedy moan when his own hands demand her attention in turn, one thumb rubbing teasing circles along her breast while the other slid down the seam of where human became equine.
Konoha doesn’t know how long it is that they explore each other, slow and building and terribly lewd (terrible arousing), but she does know that it’s getting harder to muzzle herself, reduced to soft pants for breath after he kisses her so thoroughly, nipping against his jaw or ear before nuzzling into his shoulder to hide how she wants to both beg him to get on with it and yet keep on with this sweet torture for an eternity. She can feel his hearts thundering where she presses up against his chest, is sure he can feel the same beneath his large hands wherever they find a place to touch or tease on her, and finally-
“You smell so good…” His voice pulls her back to the ever-waiting present, low and husky enough to make her tremble, make her crane about with a whine to look behind her… and see that her tail is raised and slowly flicking back and forth beneath the modesty of her skirt in the instinctive, more bestial way a jinba was capable of to tempt a stallion, to wave pheromones in his face and offer flashes of wanting wetness to invite him to mount, to fill, to spill his seed-
“Gonta, I…“ But he’s already moving, already answering her with another kiss, and she’s all too eager to follow where he leads. It all blurs together- finding a way to her unsteady feet, feeling the soft bark of the tree beneath her palms as she finds a trunk to brace herself against, her hocks trembling with excitement and anxiety as fingers hook in the fabric of her hakama… and then fumble with the ties.
“It’s the- No, the knot is over there-“ She can’t help but laugh. She didn’t mean to, but it comes out in a breathy giggle, suddenly feeling like a weight was lifted somehow, clearing her mind just a little and making her feel a bit less nervous as she watched Gonta’s face turn redder, muttering a bit to himself as he followed her instructions and began to unwrap her clothing. Everything would be fine… even if she did still blush deeper in turn once the hakama slid down her rear legs, exposing her long, dark tail and rump. Exposing even more, when her tail lifts as she bites into her bottom lip, feeling as if she’s overheating when she looks back to see Gonta staring, gulping slightly before he reaches out to softly smooth a palm over her hip.
“Konoha, you have to tell me if I’m too heavy for you… or if it hurts.” The tremor in his voice makes her want to reach out for him, but in this position it’s too difficult and her fingers just dig in uselessly against the bark, biting down harder on her lip at the reminder that… oh. It might. He was the largest stallion she’d ever seen, and from this angle she can’t… actually see between his legs, but she’d seen enough that one time in the woods when he’d not had his loincloth on, and-
A final nod from her is all it takes before his fingers curl at the base of her tail, move it aside… and then he’s rearing up, forelegs clambering for purchase on her withers, his hands bracing on the trunk above her own, curling over her smaller body, lining up- and then he’s pressing in and it’s all Konoha can do not to buckle in surprise, both at his weight and how tight she feels around him, how strange and uncomfortable a sensation it was to feel him push past maidenhood, whimpering around her bit lip and pressing her cheek against the tree as she tries to lock her knees and spread her back legs. She can feel him stutter to a stop half within her, feels his breath hot on the back of her neck and her bared shoulder before his teeth scrape lightly against her skin, struggling for speech and abdominals trembling with the effort to not move, to try and keep his full weight off her by bracing his upper half steadier against the tree trunk.
“Konoha-?“ The question of whether she was alright, whether he should stop or continue, is lost somewhere in his heavy groan and her higher pitched whimper, barely able to handle his girth and yet so wanting to, so wanting for more of him, to be closer to him-
“Just go slow, please-“ She manages to answer around another whimper, struggling up closer to the tree trunk to change the angle of her spine, lift her tail higher and release a tremulous breath, preparing herself for his full length, for… being his woman. Gods, she just wanted to be so badly, so even if it hurt a little now- “Please, Gonta…”
After a moment, torn between obeying her request or pulling away, fighting his own arousal in the process, he gives her what she asks for. Adjusts his back hooves with a stutter and then finishes pressing inside of her to the hilt, releasing a guttural moan across her neck before she bares the skin to him, throat trembling with the effort to accept him, swallowing down a series of gasps and more pitiful whimpers and instead trying to focus on the warmth of the kisses he presses beneath her jaw, seeking forgiveness for her discomfort in breathy pants between touches of lips and brush of tongue and sharp canines. Trying to give her time to adjust around him at the same time as he tried to distract her, his hand drags heavy across her cheek, runs a finger along her bottom lip to encourage her to stop biting it so fiercely, slipping in past her lips to press on her tongue just briefly and urge her to release the small cry trapped in her throat, not hold anything in for his sake. Drifting down past the shallow rise and fall of her chest to run down her belly until his fingers find her coat, he moves back up to cup a breast in his hand, rubbing his thumb over a nipple, slow and gentle.
She doesn’t know how long she stands there with him shuddering still inside her, slowly growing accustomed to the tight, too full feel of him, the both of them whispering apologies for different things between strained, hot breaths and sounds, he trying his best to hold back the desire to move and she trying her best to accept him. But eventually, her breathing does even out, she finds a stance beneath him that makes his weight easier to bear, and finally, finally, she turns her face up to release a sigh, nuzzling up against his temple, breathing in his scent… and giving her permission.
He’s still so careful, using almost all of his tenuous hold on willpower to make his thrusts as slow and gentle as he could, using his hand splayed over her breast both as anchor and point of pleasure as well as to monitor her heartbeats, barely audible over his own thundering pulses. He knows she’s strong, she’s proven it to him time and again, but she just felt so delicate in comparison to him that he was so afraid of hurting her, afraid to exert any more of his strength for fear she might cry out in pain or her legs might buckle.
But eventually, a slow and gradual process, she starts to feel more comfortable, starts to feel his thrusts more as friction and fill that might turn pleasurable rather than an assault pushing past nervously tight defenses. Words are too difficult now, it’s too new and overwhelming, but she’s glad they’re far away from civilization, because it felt like every buck from behind triggered a moan or a gasp, nails digging into the tree bark and desperate for other touch, more distraction, arching her upper spine to press her breast into his hand and baring her throat and shoulder for his possessive bites and gruff, soft kisses. He was louder than her- she could tell he was trying to not be, but as his thrusts grew rougher, began to lose rhythm to shudders of hips flush against hers, so did he lose grasp on his heavy pants, the low growls and grunts as he neared completion-
And then, without warning- at least, without any warning she had yet to pick up on, he came deep inside of her, shoving in as far as he could on instinct and pressing his forehead into the crook of her shoulder, letting out a long, shuddering groan of relief as he quivered above her, tightened his grip on her breast and held her as if she were the only thing anchoring him to reality as he rode out his orgasm. It was all Konoha could to do tighten up and support him, moaning in time to the spill of warmth inside of her, full and heavy, a sensation that just felt… Right. Felt good, felt like exactly what her body had been craving.
As he came down from the high, staying within her to make sure his seed remained as he softened, Gonta’s breathing slowly settled back down alongside her own, their heavy heartbeats nearly synced as his hand moved from her breast to her belly, fingers splayed to curl and release over her skin and coat in a comforting, soft touch. She’d done so well for her first time, he felt so bad for causing her discomfort-
“Gonta, I love you-“ Her voice brings him back, eyes wide as he looks down at her in shock, at how affectionately she looks up at him even with her face still flushed with not quite satisfied want, how strain had marred her skin with sweat, how out of breath she was.
“I love you so much-“ How could he not kiss her? With a shudder he slips wetly from between her legs, pulls away to dismount but comes back to her before she can even miss him, kisses her gratefully and smooths his hand along her spine, back and forth to soothe any residual aches or stiff muscles, helping her carefully down to her knees, to her side where he could lay beside her, nuzzling between her breasts and inhaling the smell of their coupling, listening to the sounds of her affectionate whispers. He couldn’t help but feel like he’d failed her, but-
“Can we try again tonight? I think I’ll be better at it the more we practice… and I want to be a woman of the mountains before we get to your home.” She was still smiling at him, tired as she felt, still wanted to be with him in every sense of the word…
“C’mere-“ He can’t help but pull her into his arms and hitch her higher up in his grip, trail his fingers down her flank and beneath her tail until thick fingers find where she’s been left aching, nuzzling against her well-marked neck as he feels her kick out behind him in surprise. He wasn’t going to leave her like that, especially not after those words- and besides. She was too cute, too arousing when she tightened around his fingers and moaned his name into his hair, throwing her arms around him to clutch desperately at his shoulders and shudder in time to the slip of his thumb over where she was most sensitive, voice rising in lewd moans and arching desperately into his touch.
… Maybe they could try again before night fell. With a sturdier tree.
Konoha had fallen asleep against him and Gonta couldn’t bring himself to wake her yet, staring down at her contented face nuzzling against his shoulder as their firstborn daughter continued to suckle at her breast whether her mother had dozed off mid-feeding or not. He waits until the babe begins to fall asleep herself before moving as gently as he can to take her into his arms, murmuring softly so that she wouldn’t fuss.
“Come here, Komatsu… Thatta girl…” Filly extracted, he takes a moment to smile down at her, trace the chubby curve of her cheek, the black whorl of her hair, and the delicate shape of her tiny, pale hooves. She’s so small… even if he weren’t the size he was, even in Konoha’s arms she seems so tiny, and though she didn’t have the shock of thick, rust-colored mane and tail, the black-coated legs and dark hooves… she was perfect. There was a part of him that mourned the lack of obvious traits from Matsukaze, the only man he had known as a father, but she had part of his name. She had part of him, part of Konoha.
Over the years, Gonta had slowly given up on the idea of his own family, his own children. He had Koume to take care of, he had her and Kohibari’s children, and by the time Tanikaze had come along he was already a man himself, so rather than simply a nephew… the boy felt almost like a son. To think that he would be able to have this happiness… to return to the mountain having seen how humans and jinba lived in the years since the tragedy, to be able to trust Tanikaze’s future to the them without hate in his heart… and to know the joy Matsukaze had, looking down at a child and watching them grow up?
“Gonta, what’s wrong?” His young wife’s voice draws him from his reverie, blinking hints of moisture from his eyes as he turns to see her looking up at him, brows furrowed in concern as her hands sleepily move to reach for his face, to brush over his cheek and find a place at the nape of his neck.
“Nothing- Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you…” He trails off as Konoha’s concern melts into a warm smile, as she presses up tighter against him to wrap her arm around their daughter, to pull at the nape of his neck to bring him close enough that she can kiss him, sleepy and affectionate.
“Mm… I love her, too. She’s so beautiful.” Gonta didn’t have any reason to do anything but agree, to kiss her back as Komatsu slipped to sleep in their arms. He might have kissed her longer, far better at actions than words, had she not suddenly pulled back… and started laughing softly, pulling her hands back to cover her mouth and cup her bare, swollen breasts.
“… Ah.” Looking down revealed the source of her laughter- two white, milky stains on the side of his clothing. The expression on his face must have been something else, because Konoha kept laughing, trying her best not to, but… even he had to chuckle in the end, more than used to his share of sick ups and the messiness of childcare after four of Kohibari’s brood. Stretching over to set Komatsu down in her crib, he instead pulls Konoha into his arms with a careless strength that made her giggle.
Gonta didn’t quite know what to do with the surge of gratitude and affection he felt for the woman who had left behind her own family and all she’d ever known for a life beside him in the mountains. He buries his face in her shoulder for a moment while she wraps her arms around him for balance, twisting onto her back to get more comfortable in his hold, back hocks limp in the air.
“I’ll get Komatsu’s dinner all over you- !” She still had laughter on her breath and in her smile, and he can’t help but leave a trail of kisses down her neck, knowing she was slightly ticklish and would squirm in delight, her tail swishing free. After a few months in the mountains, she’d gotten the courage up to leave her hakama behind… and it wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy the view, or how red-faced she’d been the first few days. How red-faced he was now, aroused by her body more than ever since she’d given birth, since he’d been able to see the maternal look on her face and how tenderly she cared for the child she’d carried in her belly the last year.
“I don’t mind.” His reply was a barely audible rumble, kissing down her collarbone, nipping tenderly at her brown flesh before he nuzzles into her bosom, breathing in her scent mixed with the smell of milk, reveling a moment in how her smaller body curls around him, how her forelegs tighten around his waist as her fingers run through his hair, cradling his head against her. How her breathy laughter turns gradually into a soft whimper of conflicted pleasure when his lips find a sensitive, dusky pink nipple, teasing until her flesh tightens and a few drops of milk bead on his tongue.
“Gonta…” Konoha’s voice was warm, finding herself a bit wanting despite her general fatigue and the sleepless nights since Komatsu’s birth, shifting in his arms again as her tail raises in desire, a shiver working slow down her long spine and drawing his gaze back up to her face, to the blush on her cheeks that mirrored the ruddy color on his own.
“I want another baby... I know it’s soon, but-” Hearing that, how could he not surge up, nipping after her words as she kept speaking between kisses, voice beginning to stutter softly and occasionally pitch to a whine as he moved a hand over her flank and began sliding his fingers over her equine chest, along the line of muscle he knew made her back left leg twitch and her hoof kick out.
“I want a big family… and you’re such a good father… and I love the way you-“ As her weight tips backwards she takes him with her until they’re half entwined on the floor of the hut, Gonta being careful as always not to crush her even as he feels more and more distracted by desire, as she spurs him on with sweet words and the way her fingers dig in at his back, find purchase in the thick line of blond mane down lower human spine before it merged seamlessly into palomino coat and withers.
“I’ll give you as many as you want-“ Words had never been his strong point, but his kisses are heated and his hands tender as he can make them, always mindful of his strength, of her smaller frame even though he knew well that she was strong in her own right. The ceiling of their mountain hut wasn’t tall enough to mount, not properly as he knew it, but his wife had spent her life among humans, and she’d introduced him to some… rather peculiar positions.
He shimmies between her legs, breathing heavily as he finds himself unsheathing, hardening as he rubs against her belly, hunching over her as she helps him find a safe place to put his hooves, her forelegs tucked up to her chest and arching up towards him from the waist, pushing up from her hands on the floor to reach him, to wrap her arms around his waist and leave kisses down his chest and stomach.
“Gonta, please-“ Konoha’s little whispers were driving him crazy, and it’s all he can do to give her what she asks, answer the sharp scent of mating desire he can smell coming off her as she awkwardly spreads her back legs, listening to the way her breath hitches into a long, low moan when he finds her entrance and starts pushing in, as she gives up her hold on his waist to fall back against the floor, spine arching and the folds of her open kimono and undone hair spreading across the floor as she tries to keep herself from writhing beneath him, welcoming him into her heat.
“Konoha-“ He rarely spoke in the act, too wrapped up in sensation and movement and coupled with the effort it took to keep from hurting her in attempts to please, but her name he manages as he pushes up against the deepest place he can, collapsing half over her to get closer, to run hands and indulge the instinctual desire to nip and bite, leaving marks along her neck as he begins awkwardly thrusting into her from such an unnaturally low angle. She gasps and whines to each hint of movement, his girth just barely enough for her to handle and the distance between them more than she’d like in order to make this work, yet-
She wants him, she wants another child, she wants the sweet, too-full feeling of him within her, she wants… well, right now maybe she does want to rewind and drag him outside to mount properly, but she’s never shied away from just recklessly jumping into things and seeing them through, and she’s not stopping now that she’s found a grip on him again, one hand buried in his hair behind his neck and another curled around his foreleg, gripping anxiously tight.
She tries to be quiet, gods, Yukikaze and his wife’s hut wasn’t that far away, and Komatsu was asleep, but no matter what sound she makes Gonta’s louder, especially as he begins to pump into her with more vigor, a motion she knows well means he’s close. Konoha does what she can to inspire him, to chase that mounting, pleasing sensation, and when she feels him spill his seed within her it feels so warm that she can’t help but quiver, clutching him close when he buries his face between her breasts and rolls over onto his side, taking her with him in a tangle of hooves and arms.
“Maybe this time it will be a boy…” Gonta nods along to her contented whisper, panting against her skin in between red-faced nuzzles and nips at her milk-stained breasts, joints aching a bit from the relatively odd strain of a jinba breeding that way, but still… He can’t help but imagine. A boy… a son…
The sound of Komatsu’s fussing gradually breaks through the tired, post-coital haze, and Konoha groans before she laughs softly into his hair, extricating herself reluctantly from his arms to stretch over to the crib, fingers skimming over the wood before they reach the child. Her father had carved it, and Mikuni had delivered it on his last visit, and now… she pulls the filly back into her arms, rocking her gently as she returns to Gonta’s side, slipping up next to him with Komatsu between them, her expression softening when she sees the smile on his face, the way he curls protectively around the both of them.
“Yeah… maybe.” And if their next child was another girl, well. ... They could always try again.
first time in post-canon;
Despite all the teasing, all of Sha’s encouragement… Konoha doesn’t find much time after the banquet to cuddle up with Gonta, despite the fact that she’d all but shouted at him to marry her and take her with him to the mountains. Some of the men had broken out asebi liquor, strong enough to intoxicate even a jinba, and it being… sort of a wedding reception, in a way, they certainly couldn’t turn down offers of toasts and cheers, and she wakes up a bit hungover in the corner of the bunkhouse, Gonta’s face nuzzling into her side, his larger form sprawled out on the floor and his arms wrapped loosely around her waist.
She savors it, blushing innocently while the rest of the party-goers snore drunkenly around them, shifting lightly so that he would rest against the softness of her bosom instead of the crook of her arm, running dark fingers through his light hair and biting into her bottom lip a bit excitedly… but before anything can happen Sha’s awake, and then her parents are crying again, and Gonta is hastily fixing her top, which had slipped open a bit in her sleep and the weight of his cheek, and… they’re off.
She cries a little, too, she can’t help it, but they leave her entire life behind and head towards Mt. Tsurugi.
It’s a week’s journey, so she thinks… maybe the next night? But Gonta seems concerned about some animal tracks they passed and volunteers to stay up to watch. So maybe the next night, she thinks, but then he had seemed so tired she didn’t want to do anything but let him sleep… and the next night she was tired…
On the fourth morning, the sun still hiding behind the mountains and fog on the ground… she can’t help it, staring at him beside her as he eats and searching for words until she’s red in the face and her cheeks have puffed up a bit in a combination of embarrassment and indignation, and he can’t help but ask what’s wrong with her… and she can’t help but answer, whispering into her food.
“When I said I wanted you to make me a woman of the mountains… I meant your woman, Gonta.” Had that… somehow not been clear? Had she been completely imagining the past few days, when he said he liked her, too? For a second she thinks she maybe had, because he almost spits out a mouthful of stew, hastily wiping his mouth and putting the bowl down, growing redder than she was in two seconds flat. She’s actually afraid he’s going to choke, panicking and moving to hit him on the back until he recovers, coughing into his hand.
“I, uh-“ She doesn’t know what to do, watching him recover, hide part of his face in his hand and stutter for an explanation. They haven’t done anything but sleep beside each other, barely even held hands, and she’d given up so much, so if this was just-
The kiss shuts her up. Wipes the worried doubts off her features in favor of a muffled noise of surprise, unsure what to do with her hands and panicking until she clutches at his shoulders, presses up anxiously against him and tries to… hells, she doesn’t know. His hands are warm and broad, so strong yet gentle as they cup her cheeks, slide against the sensitive line of jaw and neck, and her hearts are beating so strongly that she fears for a moment they might burst from her body.
They don’t, but she’s still left breathless when he pulls away, chests heaving and staring up at him in a tangled mess of desire and confusion, fingers curling anxiously in his clothing. Was it happening? Was it really going to happen?
“Gonta… ?” He still seemed to be struggling for words, looked about ready to sweat with nervousness like he had just days ago when she’d confessed her feelings, but finally he gets it out, voice low and barely audible despite its usual boom.
“It’s… been a long time, Konoha. For me.” It wasn’t like she didn’t know he was older than her. That she hadn’t come to realize, from the stories Mikuni and Gonta had told her, that not only had Gonta not been around humans before… but that for some time, he hadn’t really been around many jinba either beyond the ones they were going to meet- his elder sister, her children, and their families. But she hadn’t exactly considered how long that might have been… since he’d been around women.
“… Oh.” Smart, Konoha. She could smack herself at how lame a response that was, blushing fiercer as she tries to recover, biting on her lip and fingers tightening in his shirt as she mumbles more towards his chest than his face.
“I’ve… never at all, actually, but. If it’s with Gonta, I… want to…” Like now, she wanted to. Right now. As nervous as she was, a little scared… she’d wanted to for a while now, wanted it even more since she’d told him how she felt and he’d seemed to feel the same… and now here they were, with no one else around, practically married by the standards she’d grown up with, though she doesn’t know how they do it in the mountains, now that she thinks about it, and-
He kisses her again, slow and sweet, and though her thoughts scatter again immediately this time she figures out what to do with her hands, slipping them through his hair, running her fingers along the side of his face, sliding her thumb along the line of his eye patch. It’s such a strange feeling, the contrast between skin roughened by weather and what little of the rippling, unnaturally smooth skin of his burn scar peeked out from behind the fabric, and she can’t stop curiously caressing along it even as her lips part, as she presses against him only to-
“Gonta, wait-“ She pulls away from him to see the confusion now on his face, when she’d been the one to push him for this, only for it to give way to a flash of fear when her fingers fall to the eye patch, just begin to hint at touching it, pulling it away.
“Can I…?” She hesitates, only just starting to peel it from his face, frozen as she searches his expression for permission, the silence growing long as he hesitates, as his remaining eye flicks away… before he nods. Reluctant perhaps though it was… she takes the trust she’s given, carefully pushing the eye patch higher on his face, taking in what was hidden there in the flickering firelight.
It’s awful. The wound is old, she knew it had been when he was just a child, but despite its age it still seemed an angry color, as angry as the flames that must have melted the skin, ruined the eye now a white, scarred marble barely visible beneath healed over flesh. There’s a moment when she can’t speak, upset for just how painful it must have been, how painful the life he had led must have been, in the midst of the war she had been too young to remember… but she also knows that he’s waiting on edge for her reaction.
So she takes his face in her hands and pulls him down to her so that she can place a kiss on his hairless brow, beneath what was left of his eye, on his too-smooth cheek, murmuring kind comforts before she lets him pull the eyepatch back down over his scars. Even though she was just as, if not more nervous than he was, her arms slowly shift to wrap around his neck instead, whining softly as he nips into another kiss, trails them down her neck and nuzzles against her collarbone, breathing heavy. His hands slide down her back, slip beneath the hide wrap around her waist until his fingertips brush her withers before tugging her closer as if she weighed barely nothing, slung half over his forelegs so that he can hold her closer, higher.
Konoha can’t think of any words to use any longer, not yet. It’s easier to just kiss him and hope she isn’t bad at it, pant softly when he nibbles at her neck and squirm in a combination of what she suspects is being ticklish and also increasingly aroused, all too aware of her tail lifting beneath her skirt when she feels her skin bared by his hands pulling her kimono apart, gasping with a sudden arch of spine as his fingers and the crisp morning air both set her nipples to tightening, more flares of unfamiliar sensation that set her nerves aflame. It’s not like she’s never been in heat before, she’s desired as much as any mare, spent a few days each month every spring since she’d blossomed into womanhood really hoping everyone else around her didn’t realize how lustful she felt, but she’d never acted on it.
Just imagined. So, she does her best to act like she had in her fantasies, pressing up into his kiss and trying not to whimper in surprise at each touch and slide of his hand, slipping her own into his clothing and scraping nails appreciatively along his sides, nearly vibrating in a combination of nerves and desire. Part of those fantasies had most definitely involved running her fingers along the chiseled lines of the muscles that had impressed her so much on his first day at the yard, and here she is, actually doing it, tentatively reaching around further to find the curve of his spine, tracing hard lines of strength until she comes to the end of his mane, following it down to where blonde hair became palomino coat and then back up again. An excited bite into her lip at least manages to somewhat stifle a sound somewhere between ticklish laugh and reedy moan when his own hands demand her attention in turn, one thumb rubbing teasing circles along her breast while the other slid down the seam of where human became equine.
Konoha doesn’t know how long it is that they explore each other, slow and building and terribly lewd (terrible arousing), but she does know that it’s getting harder to muzzle herself, reduced to soft pants for breath after he kisses her so thoroughly, nipping against his jaw or ear before nuzzling into his shoulder to hide how she wants to both beg him to get on with it and yet keep on with this sweet torture for an eternity. She can feel his hearts thundering where she presses up against his chest, is sure he can feel the same beneath his large hands wherever they find a place to touch or tease on her, and finally-
“You smell so good…” His voice pulls her back to the ever-waiting present, low and husky enough to make her tremble, make her crane about with a whine to look behind her… and see that her tail is raised and slowly flicking back and forth beneath the modesty of her skirt in the instinctive, more bestial way a jinba was capable of to tempt a stallion, to wave pheromones in his face and offer flashes of wanting wetness to invite him to mount, to fill, to spill his seed-
“Gonta, I…“ But he’s already moving, already answering her with another kiss, and she’s all too eager to follow where he leads. It all blurs together- finding a way to her unsteady feet, feeling the soft bark of the tree beneath her palms as she finds a trunk to brace herself against, her hocks trembling with excitement and anxiety as fingers hook in the fabric of her hakama… and then fumble with the ties.
“It’s the- No, the knot is over there-“ She can’t help but laugh. She didn’t mean to, but it comes out in a breathy giggle, suddenly feeling like a weight was lifted somehow, clearing her mind just a little and making her feel a bit less nervous as she watched Gonta’s face turn redder, muttering a bit to himself as he followed her instructions and began to unwrap her clothing. Everything would be fine… even if she did still blush deeper in turn once the hakama slid down her rear legs, exposing her long, dark tail and rump. Exposing even more, when her tail lifts as she bites into her bottom lip, feeling as if she’s overheating when she looks back to see Gonta staring, gulping slightly before he reaches out to softly smooth a palm over her hip.
“Konoha, you have to tell me if I’m too heavy for you… or if it hurts.” The tremor in his voice makes her want to reach out for him, but in this position it’s too difficult and her fingers just dig in uselessly against the bark, biting down harder on her lip at the reminder that… oh. It might. He was the largest stallion she’d ever seen, and from this angle she can’t… actually see between his legs, but she’d seen enough that one time in the woods when he’d not had his loincloth on, and-
A final nod from her is all it takes before his fingers curl at the base of her tail, move it aside… and then he’s rearing up, forelegs clambering for purchase on her withers, his hands bracing on the trunk above her own, curling over her smaller body, lining up- and then he’s pressing in and it’s all Konoha can do not to buckle in surprise, both at his weight and how tight she feels around him, how strange and uncomfortable a sensation it was to feel him push past maidenhood, whimpering around her bit lip and pressing her cheek against the tree as she tries to lock her knees and spread her back legs. She can feel him stutter to a stop half within her, feels his breath hot on the back of her neck and her bared shoulder before his teeth scrape lightly against her skin, struggling for speech and abdominals trembling with the effort to not move, to try and keep his full weight off her by bracing his upper half steadier against the tree trunk.
“Konoha-?“ The question of whether she was alright, whether he should stop or continue, is lost somewhere in his heavy groan and her higher pitched whimper, barely able to handle his girth and yet so wanting to, so wanting for more of him, to be closer to him-
“Just go slow, please-“ She manages to answer around another whimper, struggling up closer to the tree trunk to change the angle of her spine, lift her tail higher and release a tremulous breath, preparing herself for his full length, for… being his woman. Gods, she just wanted to be so badly, so even if it hurt a little now- “Please, Gonta…”
After a moment, torn between obeying her request or pulling away, fighting his own arousal in the process, he gives her what she asks for. Adjusts his back hooves with a stutter and then finishes pressing inside of her to the hilt, releasing a guttural moan across her neck before she bares the skin to him, throat trembling with the effort to accept him, swallowing down a series of gasps and more pitiful whimpers and instead trying to focus on the warmth of the kisses he presses beneath her jaw, seeking forgiveness for her discomfort in breathy pants between touches of lips and brush of tongue and sharp canines. Trying to give her time to adjust around him at the same time as he tried to distract her, his hand drags heavy across her cheek, runs a finger along her bottom lip to encourage her to stop biting it so fiercely, slipping in past her lips to press on her tongue just briefly and urge her to release the small cry trapped in her throat, not hold anything in for his sake. Drifting down past the shallow rise and fall of her chest to run down her belly until his fingers find her coat, he moves back up to cup a breast in his hand, rubbing his thumb over a nipple, slow and gentle.
She doesn’t know how long she stands there with him shuddering still inside her, slowly growing accustomed to the tight, too full feel of him, the both of them whispering apologies for different things between strained, hot breaths and sounds, he trying his best to hold back the desire to move and she trying her best to accept him. But eventually, her breathing does even out, she finds a stance beneath him that makes his weight easier to bear, and finally, finally, she turns her face up to release a sigh, nuzzling up against his temple, breathing in his scent… and giving her permission.
He’s still so careful, using almost all of his tenuous hold on willpower to make his thrusts as slow and gentle as he could, using his hand splayed over her breast both as anchor and point of pleasure as well as to monitor her heartbeats, barely audible over his own thundering pulses. He knows she’s strong, she’s proven it to him time and again, but she just felt so delicate in comparison to him that he was so afraid of hurting her, afraid to exert any more of his strength for fear she might cry out in pain or her legs might buckle.
But eventually, a slow and gradual process, she starts to feel more comfortable, starts to feel his thrusts more as friction and fill that might turn pleasurable rather than an assault pushing past nervously tight defenses. Words are too difficult now, it’s too new and overwhelming, but she’s glad they’re far away from civilization, because it felt like every buck from behind triggered a moan or a gasp, nails digging into the tree bark and desperate for other touch, more distraction, arching her upper spine to press her breast into his hand and baring her throat and shoulder for his possessive bites and gruff, soft kisses. He was louder than her- she could tell he was trying to not be, but as his thrusts grew rougher, began to lose rhythm to shudders of hips flush against hers, so did he lose grasp on his heavy pants, the low growls and grunts as he neared completion-
And then, without warning- at least, without any warning she had yet to pick up on, he came deep inside of her, shoving in as far as he could on instinct and pressing his forehead into the crook of her shoulder, letting out a long, shuddering groan of relief as he quivered above her, tightened his grip on her breast and held her as if she were the only thing anchoring him to reality as he rode out his orgasm. It was all Konoha could to do tighten up and support him, moaning in time to the spill of warmth inside of her, full and heavy, a sensation that just felt… Right. Felt good, felt like exactly what her body had been craving.
As he came down from the high, staying within her to make sure his seed remained as he softened, Gonta’s breathing slowly settled back down alongside her own, their heavy heartbeats nearly synced as his hand moved from her breast to her belly, fingers splayed to curl and release over her skin and coat in a comforting, soft touch. She’d done so well for her first time, he felt so bad for causing her discomfort-
“Gonta, I love you-“ Her voice brings him back, eyes wide as he looks down at her in shock, at how affectionately she looks up at him even with her face still flushed with not quite satisfied want, how strain had marred her skin with sweat, how out of breath she was.
“I love you so much-“ How could he not kiss her? With a shudder he slips wetly from between her legs, pulls away to dismount but comes back to her before she can even miss him, kisses her gratefully and smooths his hand along her spine, back and forth to soothe any residual aches or stiff muscles, helping her carefully down to her knees, to her side where he could lay beside her, nuzzling between her breasts and inhaling the smell of their coupling, listening to the sounds of her affectionate whispers. He couldn’t help but feel like he’d failed her, but-
“Can we try again tonight? I think I’ll be better at it the more we practice… and I want to be a woman of the mountains before we get to your home.” She was still smiling at him, tired as she felt, still wanted to be with him in every sense of the word…
“C’mere-“ He can’t help but pull her into his arms and hitch her higher up in his grip, trail his fingers down her flank and beneath her tail until thick fingers find where she’s been left aching, nuzzling against her well-marked neck as he feels her kick out behind him in surprise. He wasn’t going to leave her like that, especially not after those words- and besides. She was too cute, too arousing when she tightened around his fingers and moaned his name into his hair, throwing her arms around him to clutch desperately at his shoulders and shudder in time to the slip of his thumb over where she was most sensitive, voice rising in lewd moans and arching desperately into his touch.
… Maybe they could try again before night fell. With a sturdier tree.