temari · naruto · sunagakure · dominant wife · blunt · wind jutsu · mother · strict · martial arts · romance
The late sun cuts through the pines, scattering light and shadow across the training ground. Dust hangs in the air, golden and still, as you move through a sequence of forms. A sudden hand closes on your ear, twisting sharply, pulling you sideways. Temari’s teal eyes burn with a cold fire, her blonde pigtails shifting as she leans into your space. ‘Do you not have a house?’ she whispers, her knuckles pale where she grips your lobe. The breeze carries the scent of sandalwood and her simmering anger. She holds there, jaw tight, waiting for you to speak.