Based on the beautiful doujinshi "Stranger" that I stumbled across on YouTube of all places. Link: watch?v=yWayKhXwjTg

And yet also inspired by Taylor Swift's song, "Come In With the Rain."

Summary: She was beautiful and she was asleep. The window was open and he had been waiting. (some dubious consent)

…

Anyway, I have MOVED this story COMPLETELY to another site. You can find this STORY and all its subsequent UPDATES here, just remove the spaces and asterisks (*): h*t*t*p :/ archiveofourown. o*r*g /works/1180478

I have the same penname there as I do here: ParadiseAvenger

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It was a dark night—moonless, starless, the black void of the sky obscured by dense rain-heavy clouds—but it had been a dark day as well. The outer edge of the city was in shambles. Orochimaru had attacked Konoha in some sort of desperate last-ditch effort, though no one was certain what drove him to this. He had arrived with nearly the entire ninja population of Sound around noon, interrupting lunch all throughout the city.

Naruto, Sakura, and Sai had been training together, working on their teamwork as a vain ploy to disguise the fact that they hadn't heard of Uchiha Sasuke in nearly two months. It was beginning to look as if he was either dead or had been taken as Orochimaru's next vessel. Either way really, he was as good as dead. When Orochimaru struck, Sakura couldn't express in words how happy she was to see that pasty white face drawn tight with the end of his life. At least Sasuke wasn't Orochimaru's container.

Despite the fact that Orochimaru's current body was slowly dying, the battle went on for hours. Sakura found herself separated from Naruto who had gone to fight the snake directly. She held back with Sai, keeping the bulk of Orochimaru's minions from breaking through Konoha's gates. When Kakashi arrived, he checked on his team long enough to learn that they were alright before joining Naruto against Orochimaru.

Sakura would never know what exactly happened after that since she was on the ground while Naruto and Kakashi were high above her, fighting atop Orochimaru's giant snakes. She knew only that there had been a shout of warning and she had looked up in time to see first Kakashi and then Naruto being blown away. Leaving Sai to hold the gate, Rock Lee taking her place at his side, she rushed to her comrades and fell in beside Tsunade. She pressed her hands over the gaping wound in Naruto's chest, pushing back the Nine Tails with her presence and healing him.

The shadow of the great snake fell across Sakura then and Naruto gripped her arm in a bloody and slack grasp, his mouth opening in horror as he tried to push her aside. Sakura would not leave him, not for the world. She pressed the wound solidly, pouring her chakra into it, and then she whirled to face the giant snake at the last second. Its mouth roared open, all sharp teeth and hissing tongue. She raised her fist, enough strength to destroy the world going into it. She struck the snake, blasting it far back, and waited for it to return.

But the snake never returned. Just outside the gates of Konoha, she heard the crash of its large body breaking through trees and then the hiss of its death. The battle went still and silent, heavy, and Sakura could nearly taste the uncertainty of what had happened. Someone had killed Orochimaru at the height of the battle, though no one had seen exactly who. Soon after that, the remaining Sound ninjas scattered like cockroaches when the light comes on.

A great cry of victory went up, but Sakura didn't join them. She turned back to Naruto, pressing her hands over the wound in his chest, pouring all her concentration into healing him. He closed his fingers around her wrist, his touch warm and light if not bloody, holding her close. She smiled softly.

Tsunade and Rock Lee came up behind Sakura as she worked, but she did not turn to look at them.

"Does anyone know what happened?" Sakura asked without removing her eyes from Naruto. The wound stitched beneath her hands, closing easier than any other injury with the addition of the Nine Tails inside him.

"No, Sakura-san," Lee said, breathing hard through his nose.

Tsunade shifted, laying her hands over Lee's shoulders and letting her healing chakra slide into him. "Kakashi caught a Sound ninja by the back of his jacket and looked at him fiercely," she began with an eye roll that suggested Kakashi had probably looked at him more-than-fiercely with the Sharingan. "Apparently, Orochimaru was under the impression that Sasuke had returned here and came to claim him before his body expired."

Without speaking, Sakura pulled back her chakra from Naruto and helped her friend sit up.

"Eh," Naruto said, his face expressing emotions that Sakura would never voice. "He thought teme was here?"

Tsunade nodded and Sakura felt her sensei's eyes burning into her back.

Sakura straightened up and then pulled Naruto to his feet. "I wonder who told him that," she said finally because the silence weighed heavy on her back. "Sasuke hasn't been here for years and we haven't even heard news of him in months."

"Who knows?" Tsunade rolled her shoulders and adjusted the deep v-neck of her shirt, tucking her large breasts back into a safety zone. "Sakura, I could use your help. It's been a long battle and the Sound ninjas are no pushovers. A lot of people are hurt."

Sakura nodded, made sure Naruto could stand on his own, gave Lee's hand a soft squeeze, and followed swiftly after her sensei. She stopped only to demand that Kakashi stop dangling a younger Sound ninja by his ankles, obviously threatening him. On the horizon, night was falling swiftly in a sunset that was washed with the colors of blood.

…

Konoha was quiet and still in the darkness, obviously exhausted. Some power lines had been knocked out, shadowing the streets thick moonless black, but Sakura walked on without halting. She had lived here her entire life after all. She arrived at her small apartment building, trudged up the stairs, and let herself inside. Her apartment was dark, but she found that her power was still intact. She stripped off her soiled clothes, blood and sweat and grime covering most of them, and promised herself she'd do laundry tomorrow. Naked, she went to her bathroom and stood under the shower as more of a courtesy than an actual desire to be clean.

She was so tired… all she wanted to do was sleep…

In a waft of steam, she emerged from the bathroom and took some clean clothes out of her bureau. She didn't own a pair of pajamas, but in light of Orochimaru's recent attack, she didn't think tonight was a good night to sleep in her panties. Pulling on a light tank top and a pair of comfortable shorts, she moved to the window and pushed it open. The cool night air rushed in, kissing her damp skin and making her shiver. She took a light red blanket from the foot of her bed, wrapped it around her shoulders, and used what little remaining strength she had to push her bed against the window.

She knew it was slightly foolish to sleep so exposed, but Konoha felt unspeakably safe tonight. Orochimaru was vanquished, his Sound ninjas had scattered, and hopefully somewhere—somewhere—Sasuke was still alive. Besides, the refreshing night breeze felt wonderful and the smell of rain was heavy in the clouds. Sakura had always loved the smell of rain. Tonight, it smelled fresh and fertile, as if flowers could be grown in it, as if something that crazy was actually possible.

Sakura lay down, her mattress cushioning her like a pair of warm arms. She didn't let herself imagine whose arms they might have been and instead focused on the smell of the rain. Soon, exhausted from the long battle and longer night at the hospital, she fell into a deep and fitful sleep.

…

From his perch atop the telephone pole, Konoha was still and dark in the moonless night. Thunder rumbled faintly in the distance, but there was not yet any lightning. That suited him fine. He preferred the inky blackness that allowed him to lose himself within it.

It had taken him a fair while to find her apartment. It wasn't as if he could just ask for directions. No, he had to search for her within the village, being careful not to be seen. He had watched her walk home from the hospital, her heart light from saving lives and content with the knowledge that Orochimaru was dead. At least, he assumed her heart was light from that—his certainly was.

He watched from his perch as she came home and stripped off her clothes just inside her front door. She moved through her apartment, blissfully unaware and stunningly naked, and ducked into the bathroom. When she emerged, she was sadly covering herself with a towel, but he could see the faint dewdrops of water sliding over her skin.

She dressed, though barely, and then moved to the window. For a moment, he feared that she had spotted him, even amidst the darkness, even though all but his skin blended in with the night. But she did not or if she did, she was hiding it with great success. She had never been that smart though, not when it came to him. If she had seen him, she would have said something, tried something, cried…

He watched as she absorbed the feeling of the night and inhaled the scent of the rain. When she moved her bed towards the window and lay down beneath a tangle of red blankets, it was as good as an invitation. She was foolish to do this—to sleep with the window open and her bed so visible—but he supposed that Konoha had always felt safe for her.

He waited for her to fall asleep as patient as a viper waiting to strike. As he did so, he took a strip of dark cloth and a long length of rope from the pouch at his hip. Konoha's greatest young kunoichi… he would have her, even if she would no longer have him.

He leaped down from his perch atop the telephone pole soon after she had sleepily rolled onto her side and gone very still. Very few ninjas tossed and turned in their sleep—one exception could be the dead-last ninja of Konoha. For one such as him, it was an easy matter to land in her open window.

Crouched there, he studied her as she slept deeply. Her hair was the same as he remembered, pale cherry-blossom pink though she had kept it short. It fell around her face in stunning wisps and tendrils. Her lips were pink, slightly parted, her breath soft. Her lashes were dark and thick, lying against her cheeks like twin fans. Her eyes were closed so he could not take in the shade of perfect emerald, but he knew it was there. In fact, she had complimented her eyes by painting her nails a shade that matched them.

The only thing that had changed greatly was her body. Her legs were long and shapely, her hips curved, and her ribcage was narrow. Her breasts had grown, her nipples showing faintly through the pale material of her tank top. He had watched her in battle, taking in the brute strength she now possessed, but it was hard to believe such strength could flow from such a delicate and lovely body. She had blossomed into a beautiful woman, so beautiful that he licked his lips at the thought of what was to come.

He stepped carefully down from the window and closed it, just in case she decided to shout or struggle. He didn't want her voice to carry and attract unwanted attention in the still night. Certainly other ninjas were not sleeping as deeply as she was in light of Orochimaru's invasion. Konoha was safe, but people were still cautious—more cautious than her.

There was a naked kunai lying on her nightstand. Just to be safe, he put it away in his pouch with the others he carried.

He wet his lips and took the strip of dark cloth from his pouch again. It was an easy matter to slide it over her eyes, but it was not so easy to tie it without catching her hair and pulling it painfully. Finished, he maneuvered her wrists together and bound them securely. For a moment, he studied the long shape of her bare legs in the dimness and considered binding her ankles, but it would make what he had planned only harder.

Then, content that she was properly restrained, he let himself enjoy the sight before him. He leaned over her, inhaling the sweet scent of her soap and skin. She smelled wonderful and there was heat coming off her bare skin. He wondered if she would taste as good as she smelled.

But, before even that, in a moment of rare attachment, he found his hand gently cupping her face. Her skin was warm and her hair was soft beneath his fingers. He wondered if the gloves he wore were harsh on her smooth skin. He bent closer, his lips lightly brushing the shell of her ear, inhaling deeply. She smelled of cherry blossoms, but that shouldn't have surprised him.

Softly, he whispered, "Sakura…"

The reaction was immediate, his dangerous voice jolting her from such a deep sleep. For a moment, he almost felt bad to wake her. She tensed in his arms, her body rocking up from the mattress only to meet the hard wall of his chest, and she jerked hard against the ropes that bound her wrists. He could practically see her mind going through a checklist of her surroundings and knowledge. He trailed his fingers down her throat, prying a shiver from her body.

…

A cold voice cut through her dreams. "Sakura…"

Sakura's eyes opened to darkness and she immediately knew something was wrong. She had fallen asleep before she had remembered to turn off the hallway light so there should have been at least a little bit of light with which to see by, but there was none. There was only thick all-encompassing darkness. She blinked, feeling her lashes brush against some kind of cloth. Blindfold, she realized, and tried to relax enough to think.

She tried to move, but something—no, someone—was holding her down against her bed. She squirmed experimentally, lifting her elbows and knees. There was weight across her legs, keeping her from moving them, and she quickly tried to pull her arms down. Her wrists were bound and her superhuman strength did nothing to break them. They were infused with chakra. Whoever was in her apartment was a ninja and a very dangerous one at that.

She writhed, her back arching from the mattress, and she felt the hard warm plane of a chest against her own nearly-naked skin. She felt it breathe, felt the pulse of its heart, felt the hard planes of mesh armor beneath the thin shirt fabric, but that told her nearly nothing. She knew it was a man, just by the voice and body. It must be one of Orochimaru's ninjas, one of the Sound who hadn't been gathered by the jounin and ANBU after the attack.

How had he found her? Why would he come only for her?

Her heart skipped a beat.

Lightly, his warm fingertips trailed down her exposed throat and she shivered in revulsion. She had never been touched like this before and she had never suspected that she would be bound and violated in her own apartment. She had never expected that her first time would be like this.

"Who's there?" she demanded and was pleased to find that her voice was stronger than she felt inside.

He didn't answer, but the mattress sank a little as he leaned down over her. His breath was normal, scented with neither alcohol nor stinking with anything. His body had felt slender and surely a heavier man would be sinking the mattress more or else crushing her. His fingers stilled just above the swell of her breast, feeling her thundering heartbeat, not yet touching her intimately.

"What do you want with me?" Sakura asked because she could think of no reason for any of the Sound ninjas to personally want to violate her. She was a healer and had healed even a few of them. She was the Hokage's apprentice, but she didn't know any classified information. She was well-known as an ex-teammate of Uchiha Sasuke's. Was that it? Did they think she knew where he was? But even if she did, Orochimaru was already dead. What could be gained by hurting her?

Before she could think of any other reason, the man spoke, "There's only one thing I want tonight."

She grit her teeth and the muscles of her thighs squeezed tight. "Who are you?" she demanded, turning her head against the blindfold, but it was bound securely.

To her surprise, he breathed out softly and then murmured, "I can't answer that myself."

A chill ran through her.

"I don't really know who I am anymore," he continued and his fingers slid back up her chest to fold over her throat lightly. "All I know is the person I am now wants you."

Her throat flashed as she swallowed nervously and she could feel him smirk down at her, amused by her fear. Sick bastard, she thought to herself. What would a man like this do to her? She forced back the encroaching terror and held onto her inner strength with both hands. "Let me go!" she shouted at him, lashing out sharply with her knees. "You'll pay dearly if you don't let me go right now!"

He chuckled softly and used one hand to force her knees back to the bed. "I like it when you act all feisty," he murmured and his hot breath ghosted against her ear. "Sakura."

Too strong, she realized with a jolt, her legs straining to break free of his hold. He was too strong for her to fight like this. She was completely at his mercy, but she couldn't die yet. She would have to do whatever it took to get out of this alive. Naruto still needed her, her training with Tsunade was still incomplete, she still had to bring Sasuke home. She couldn't die now.

His breath was still hot against her ear, but he had stopped speaking. He seemed to be waiting, waiting to see what she would do. Again, she tried to break her legs free of his grasp. If she could get loose, one solid kick should keep him off long enough for her to run. But he kept her restrained with one hand and it was clearly easy for him to do so. He was so strong, stronger than she was. Instead, she forced herself to relax beneath him, trying to give in. Maybe, if she did, she would survive.

He breathed out softly and the painful grip on her knees subsided. Then, something hot and wet traced lightly along the shell of her ear. Blindfolded as she was, it only proved to increase her sensitivity. She yelped, jerking her head aside and away from him, but she felt his smirk like something tangible on her body.

"Don't," she gasped out, but he continued as if he hadn't heard her voice.

With tenderness she didn't think a rapist could possess, he began to feather kisses all over the skin that he could reach without releasing her knees or wrists completely. His lips were soft, tracing a path from her ear to her forehead and down her cheek. He inhaled deeply occasionally as if savoring this moment and it made her skin crawl even as her cheeks flushed with blood. Blushing, she squirmed as he kissed the light scratch on her cheek with unbelievable care.

When he settled against her throat, she nearly cried out in unexpected pleasure. Her skin was so sensitive and every fiber of her body was focused on him. It was unspeakable for her to expose her most vulnerable body part—her throat—to someone like this. But even as she thought to pull her chin down and hide her jugular, she was already giving in to the sensations. His tongue traced wet and hot along the beating vein in her neck, lightly kissing where it met beneath her jaw.

"Please," she whispered. "Please, stop… Why are you doing this?"

He didn't answer, but instead traced his tongue down the length of her neck to nip lightly at her collarbone. It didn't hurt, but it sent a little thrill of unexpected shock through her body. Her breath escaped in a rush and her body quivered beneath him as he pressed countless soothing kisses over the affected area. The fingers of one hand tangled loosely in her pale hair, smoothing it gently. Again, he breathed her in and then placed kisses all along her injured cheek.

"Please, I… I don't want this," she whispered. She wasn't sure why she chose to say that. It wasn't as if rapists cared what their victims wanted. In fact, she was fairly certain that forcing her was the entire point of this. She trembled, her heart pounding. "Please…"

Yet surprisingly, his kisses slowed. He let his lips linger on her forehead and then his mouth slid down to her ear again. She shuddered as his warm breath moved over her skin, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he spoke. "Are you sure about that?" he whispered.

She didn't answer immediately, distracted by the light touch of his fingers running down her back. Her tank top had ridden up and he was freely touching her bare skin, trailing his fingers lightly over the quivering skin of her belly. As if taking her silence as an answer, he resumed kissing her just as he had before.

His lips were on her throat again when she finally whispered, "Why are you here? Why me?"

He stilled, his breath coming lightly over her moist skin. "Because you belong to me. I've come to claim what's mine."

Sakura's heart froze in her chest, turning to stone. What? What?

He kissed her throat again, mapping a light path up her jugular with his tongue, as if to prove she belonged to him only because he was being gentle with her life. Well, Haruno Sakura belonged to no man and she wasn't about to give in this easily. He might take her, but he would know that she would never belong to the man who raped her.

…

"Well, you're too late," she snapped at him. Her voice was as hard and cold as winter.

He froze, his kiss just at the edge of her jaw when she had spoken. She had obviously chosen to wait until his dangerous mouth was no longer on her vulnerable throat and now she dipped her chin down to protect that area as best she could.

What did she mean by that?

How could he be too late?

Quickly, he ran through what he had seen of her that day. He had been watching her fight, watching her heal, watching her smile in the afterglow of victory. He remembered seeing her guarding the gate with a pale artist, pressed shoulder to shoulder. He remembered how she spoke to her silver-haired teacher, waving him away to fight on with a smile and threatening him off later. He remembered the way she had held the dead-last ninja in her arms as she healed him. He remembered seeing her take the hand of another ninja with a bad haircut, squeezing it and smiling at him. Ninjas did not often express emotions in the field of battle. Any of those gestures could have been as intimate as a kiss.

"I belong to someone else," she continued. Even though he had bound her, her presence seemed to explode off the bed. Her confidence filled the room, stony and strong, but there was still a flush on her cheeks.

More as a hope than a true statement, he shouted at her, "You're lying!"

She flinched, but did not otherwise back down. "I'm not," she murmured even as his hands dug painfully into the soft skin of her arms. "I love him… with all my heart."

His gloves were armored and he knew the plates were biting into her skin. He knew bruises would bloom on her the next day like black roses. He stared down at her, at the blindfold that marred her true expression. Her lips were pressed close and her pulse was beating hard in her throat. She was afraid, still afraid, but her words…

He wrapped his fingers around her neck, letting her feel the strength in his hands. Should he strangle her? Rip the life right out of her? He wanted her to know how easy it would be for him to kill her. She trembled beneath him, every fiber of her body quivering with the fear that he would do so. He wanted to her know that loving someone else—loving someone other than him—was a crime so great that she deserved to die for it.

Her tongue snaked out, wetting her soft pink lips, drawing his attention to her mouth. For a moment, it felt just as easy to kill her as it would be to lean down and kiss her. For a moment, he almost did and in that instant, the calm returned to him. No, he wouldn't kill her. What purpose would killing her serve? That was not why he had come here.

As his hands moved from her neck, he felt her body soften with relief. She seemed to realize that she had gone too far with him and fell silent beneath his strong body. But she was still blindfolded and could not see him, could not see into his eyes or into his heart. She did not know what he intended.

…

Sakura only felt him move, felt his hands slide through her hair, felt the heat of his body against her bare skin. When she felt his breath on her lips, for a moment, she feared he was coming to bite her. She flinched away, a little whimper escaping her lips.

But he did not bite her. He did nothing to cause her pain. In fact, his lips folded over hers in a kiss so gentle that it was hard not to accept it. She felt herself begin to melt, dissolving into the kiss. She relaxed beneath him, her clenched fists even opening slightly. Then, his hot tongue traced the seam of her lips and she pulled away as slightly as she dared.

"Please," she whispered. "No more."

He stilled, the kiss breaking as easily as glass. "Why?" he demanded and there was a dangerous hiss in his voice that made her blood run cold. "Why do you have to belong to someone else?"

Suddenly, she felt as if her life depended on what she said next. Her heart pounded raggedly, but no words would come.

Instead, he dipped down against her. His hair tickled her bare skin as he rested his head against her clothed breasts, listening to the fearful rataplan of her heart. "Tell me," he continued in a voice that was sharp as a dagger. "Does he… touch you like I do?"

Before the words had even left his lips, his hand closed softly over her breast through her shirt. The fabric was a welcome barrier, but it did nothing to stop the feeling of his warm hands on her untouched skin. It did nothing to quell the feeling of his thumb rasping lightly over her nipple, raising it into a little peak. She whimpered softly, biting back the sound of pleasure that desperately wanted to escape and be heard by this man who would claim her.

His hand was still folded neatly over her breast when he spoke again, "Does he… kiss you like I do?"

She gasped, shock filling her lungs, and thought to turn her face away, but he was already folding his mouth over hers. The kiss was deeper and harder this time, but no less tender. She found herself opening to him despite everything. His tongue dipped into her mouth with all the caution of someone who expected to be bitten at any moment, but she was unable to think about causing him that kind of pain. Why? Why couldn't she hurt him? He was going to rape her and yet…

The kiss was so sweet and yet so passionate. She melted into him, her tongue lifting to tangle with his. He welcomed her reaction without speaking, matching her touch for touch. His thumb ghosted over her nipple again, making her shiver in pleasure and surprise. His fingertips were soft on her flesh, no longer pressing with the armor of his gloves. Gently, tenderly, softly, he continued to kiss her for the longest time until every rational thought was gone from her mind.

Then, he went still. He paused, waiting, waiting.

She realized he was waiting for her to answer his questions.

Maybe it was the distant rumble of thunder or the exhausting events of the day… Maybe it was the soft touch of his hands or the way his mouth had folded so perfectly over hers… Sakura would never know what drove her to speak to her violator, but she did. "No," she whispered, feeling the heat of shame burn in her throat and cheeks. "We've never… done anything like this. Though I love him so much, he… will never love me in return."

His nose brushed hers, his face so close, as he asked, "Then, why say you belong to him?" He didn't give her time to answer though and continued, "I could give you so much more."

For a moment, Sakura's heart and mind tumbled into a conflict. Why would this rapist care about another man in her life? Why would he care who she belonged to? Why would he care to offer her more or be so gentle? Did he think himself a misunderstood lover come to call? She opened her mouth to snap at him, to once again demand he leave her be, but he once more claimed her lips in a searing kiss that she couldn't break from.

Every fiber of her sensible mind screamed for her to pull away. He was beginning to relax around her. Even his grip on her legs and wrists had loosened completely. Instead, his fingers were tangled in her hair or brushing along her shoulders tenderly. But though her mind still fought, Sakura's body had given in. She melted beneath him, her breath coming in short little pants. It felt so good…

"I've been waiting for this," he whispered, "for a long time."

She swallowed nervously, but still couldn't find the will to fight him off. "I've never been kissed like that before," she heard her mouth say. "I've never… been kissed at all."

His nose brushed lightly along her cheek and his fingers caressed the line of her collarbone. She tried not to think how the breath rushed from his chest in relief as she said that. His voice betrayed nothing when he repeated, "Never?"

Her lips continued as if loosened by his kiss, all her secrets rushing out to the ears of a man who would rape her. "It's not that I didn't want to… It's just… he never…" Her cheeks burned. What was she thinking? What was she doing? He was here to rape her and she wanted his sympathy for another man who had never even kissed her. Why would he care? Why would he ever—?

"Shh," he murmured and kissed her lips gently. He deepened it, his tongue sliding into her mouth deeply. "I can make up for all the times you haven't been kissed. I will give you a year's worth of kisses right now, Sakura."

Again, he fell into kissing her. His lips worshiped her skin, licking and kissing everything he could reach. Each time he did so, a little moan of pleasure escaped her lips. She didn't want to enjoy the feeling of his lips and tongue, but she was far gone. It felt amazing.

"This isn't right…" Sakura whispered, a final effort to protest slipping from her mind to her lips.

(Nearly 4,00 words of mature content removed. Please read in ORIGINAL format on Archive of Our Own.)

X X X

Please, check out my first ORIGINAL NOVEL! The Breaking of Poisonwood by Paradise Avenger. (Summary: People were dead. When Skye Davis bought me at a slave auction as a birthday present for his brother, I had no idea what my new life was going to be like, but I had never expected this. It all started when Venus de Luna was killed and I was to take her place, to become the new savior… Then, bad things happened and some people died. In the heart of the earth, we discovered the ancient being that Frank Davis had found and created and used to his advantage. The Poisonwood—)

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