Sunlight

Pairing: Seventre

Summary: Small drabble based on their vacation

His first thought is what happened to that alarm?

There’s the heat of sunlight on his face as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes, chest rising through a deep inhale before releasing with a short whoosh past his lips. Entre’s arms flop to the sides as he smiles at the ceiling, rested and refreshed and sunk beneath a mountain of white pillows and down comforter.

His smile dips a little as he peeks at the window, sun spilling between green hotel curtains. If it were six in the morning –appointed wake-up time– it would definitely not be that bright outside. He scrunches up his nose and allows a languid stretch to roll through his body, fingers entwined and sliding up the headboard as his back arches and feet curl over the end of the bed. With a satisfied sigh, Entre rolls over to the clock on the nightstand, expecting to have lost an hour or two only to read the digital numbers and nearly fall off the bed in a scramble of limbs.

“O-ONE?!”

Immediately, his hands slap over his mouth, fingertips digging into his cheeks as blue eyes flicker over to the still-snoozing man in the bed across from his own.

When he doesn't stir, Entre’s fingers slowly slide away in relief. “Sorry,” he whispers and snags his bottom lip between his teeth, knowing the man can’t hear him but still feeling the need to say it. For a moment, he simply bounces on his knees on the bed, indecisive. He doesn't really want to wake up 72 when he looks so comfortable but at the same time he knows the man would want to get their day started – or what was left of it anyway.

His lip slips out so he can gnaw on the inside of his cheek instead and nervously tug at his bunny pajamas. Untangling himself from the sheets, Entre pushes off the bed, padding the few steps across until his weight makes a dip at the edge of 72’s. Honestly, he isn't surprised he had slept in. Entre had always been an early riser by nature but the stress of booming business had smothered that a bit so he was quick to take any chance at rest he could get.

But 72?

Entre reaches over, his toes pushing and curling into the carpet as his fingertips graze the dusting of hair over the man’s chest, just above the bedsheet. There’s a physical jolt from the skin-on-skin contact that reminds Entre he’s not wearing his gloves, and 72’s here not-wearing much less. As if the situation’s not intimate enough, the knowledge of that makes him squirm a little in his spot.

It’s really weird to see him like this – not bad! Definitely not bad, just…weird. He was all business: schedules, control, paperwork and all the knowledge, all the answers, all the time. It’s weird to see him relaxed. It’s weird to see him enjoying a break.

His fingers climb higher, and he has to swallow around a lump in his throat when they trace the smooth line of a collarbone.

He jumps when a hand snaps around his wrist.

“What are you doing, kid?” 72 keeps firm hold on him, voice gruff with the dregs of sleep.

“SORRY! SIR! Sorry, I’m sorry,” Entre babbles, flustered and looking everywhere and anywhere but his mentor’s face, which is obscured by shadow. The bar of sunlight only highlights his jaw and the upper part of his chest but Entre doesn’t need to see the rest to know what kind of look he must be getting.

The man releases his wrist and pats his hand reassuringly, covering a loud yawn with his own. “You startled me, that’s all.”

“Ehe…sorry,” Entre smiles and pulls his hand back, cheeks still flushed as he wrings them into his shirt. “But, y’see, we uh-“

But 72 is already aware, having reached over and turned the clock to face him. “No, no, look at the hour,” he laments, shaking his head and bringing a hand up beneath the shadows, over his eyes.  “So much for our plans, our breakfast, a morning shower.”

“No, it’s fine! Don’t worry!” The boy waves his hands frantically, climbing further up on the bed. “It’s only day one! We can just stay in and order movies and stuff for today, no problem!”

For a moment, 72 looks unsure. But then he picks his head up a bit from the pillow, sheet slipping a little lower as a soft chuckle rumbles up the column of this throat. “If that’s what you’d like.”

Entre’s smile is so brightfully infectious it’s almost nauseating. “I like,” he chirps, grabbing at and squeezing the man’s fingers in his own, “whatever I get to do with you.”

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Here have this too. Old seventre thing I wrote to try and cheer a friend up.

Me Versus You

Pairing: Oncest...sorta? IT'S KINDA HARD TO EXPLAIN BUT OKAY EYAH ITS BASICALLY ONCEST

Rating: M (violence, cannibalism, some sexual themes)

The Once-ler leaned back in his velvet plush chair, a red as dark as the blood caked on his lips and hands. He raised one leg, shoving the polished heel of his shoe against the dead weight at his feet. His upper lip curled around the severed finger wriggling beneath it, nail picking leftover flesh from his teeth. This had been a very unsatisfying meal. Smacking his lips, Once-ler tossed the makeshift toothpick aside, not bothering to look where it thumped on the floor as he pushed up liquid-smooth from his seat. His tongue ran over a straight row of teeth, hand wrapping around the wooden handle of his axe propped by his chair. He hopped over the dead – shit, what even was this one? He didn’t much pay attention to details like that anymore. Once-ler crouched down and jabbed the blunt end of the axe against a meaty shoulder, pushing the body over onto its back. He hooked a gloved finger into the hem of his latest victim’s pants, pulling up and peeking inside before letting the band snap back into place. “Man,” he tsk’d, attention flicking up to settle on a horribly disfigured face. “My apologies, did I embarrass you?” A low chuckle rumbled from the core of his chest as blue eyes roamed over the slits of white between the man’s lids, the red strips of flesh hanging loose from his cheeks, hacked and clawed from his bones. “Just askin’. You are looking a little red in the face, after all.” Another low laugh resonated as he stood up, head turning at the sound of a soft scuff across the room. “Oh! I nearly forgot you were here.” He drug the axe behind as he closed the distance between them, metal head clattering noisily across the floorboards before coming to an abrupt halt. Once-ler flicked his hat back and placed one arm against the wall, bangs tickling his forehead as he tipped his chin down to smirk at his former self, adorably bound in thneeds and mirroring the blue rings of his own eyes. “You’d think by now you’d learn to wipe that abandoned puppy look off of your face.” For a long moment, all Oncie could do was stare blankly into the face that mirrored his, but only in the way of its basic features. There was a twist to the expression before him that sent waves of chills down his spine, forcing a shudder that he didn’t even know how to force down anymore. His eyes darted from the corpse across the room, to the bloody ask at his other self’s side, and up to meet that manic stare focused only on him. An anxious breath left hushed and wordless whispers on his lips, choked him silent. His hands twisted into their restraints. So far he’d been left off the menu, but he knew it was only a matter of time. A jagged grin slanted across Once-ler’s face. He flipped his axe, pushing a sharp edge under Oncie’s chin, pinching the skin there. “When are you gonna stop being such a pathetic fuck?” His knees bowed out as he lowered into a crouch, sliding his hand beneath the soft material of a thneed and tugging it in to pull his former self closer. “Heh, man, loosen up,” he lowered the axe, set it aside and raised his hand, a bloody green finger pulling down Oncie’s lower lip. “Maybe it’s time for a change of pace,” he squished Oncie’s cheeks in, shaking his head slightly, “do something quick before I bite that mouth off your fucking face.” He dropped his hand, slipped it under the raggedy tails of Oncie’s button-up shirt. Velvet soft fingers circled a pink nipple, traced the bony outlines of a prominent ribcage with a smirk. “Are you hungry?” The words themselves sent a hollow jolt of pain to needle through Oncie’s abdomen. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten, honestly. At least, eaten something he didn’t try to vomit back up a second later. Tailing rapidly behind the emptiness was a rush of anxiety, the stab of what was left of his sense of morals and he shook his head as violently as he could manage. He shied away from the touches on him as the shock of cooling blood made him nearly retch in the back of his throat. Despite that Oncie knew what entailed, the word ‘hungry’ evoked a soft rumble from his stomach, so low and pathetic it wasn’t far off from a whine. “You’re gonna hurt my feelings, Oncie,” Once-ler grabbed the other by his cheeks, smoothed his thumbs beneath his eyes and left red streaks behind, “haven’t I given you everything you need?” Laughing, he shoved Oncie’s head side and got to his feet, picked up his axe, turned on his heel and took sure steps back to the fresh corpse. Once-ler pinched a strip of flesh hanging loose from the man’s face, grabbed his axe just beneath the head and sliced through the skin. His lips quirked as he caught the meat between his teeth, let it dangle down his chin as he made his way back to Oncie and gave him a face-full of himself. His teeth were spots of crimson on pearl-white, stretched in a grin around flesh as he reached forward with one gloved hand to fist Oncie’s shirt, jerking him in. “Come’n get’t.” Instantly, Oncie’s mouth snapped shut, lips thinning into a tight, obstinate line. His brows furrowed over a hardened gaze that was looking everywhere on his other self’s face that wasn’t the strip of human flesh dangling from his lips. Even if this was at least the seventh meal he’d been forced to eat since he was strung up, it didn’t sway him from maintaining a difficult demeanor about it. This wasn’t something a mere few weeks was going to change in him. Once-ler had the decency to raise both brows in surprise, pausing for a moment before snorting quietly and loosening his hold. He plucked the flesh from between his teeth and cocked his head, hat finally tumbling off but he paid it no mind. “Not that I don’t appreciate a little rebellious display, sweetheart, but you’re really driving a stake into my hospitality here.” Without warning, his fingers were at the lapels of Oncie’s shirt, buttons popping as they ripped the fabric apart. He was all paper-skin and protruding bones, scars sprinkled here and there from where Once-ler simply couldn’t help himself sometimes. “This is my food, after all.” He tipped his head back and raised his hand, flesh dangling over his lips before it disappeared between them in smooth motion. Gloved hands pushed Oncie's mile-long legs aside, pinning them apart by his thighs as Once-ler crawled forward, forcing his counterpart back up against the wall. Their foreheads bumped as Once-ler’s lips, still closed, curled into a smirk. One hand shifted over the lean stretch of Oncie’s stomach, fingertips brushing up the side before suddenly diving down beneath the hem of his pants. Oncie’s legs jerked out of reaction when a suede palm cupped between them, lips parting in a gasp and that was all the opportunity Once-ler needed. He swooped in, open-mouthed, and wasted no time shoving the wad of flesh out with his tongue, forcing it over as his fingers squeezed around what he held in his hand. With a muffled series of shouts, Oncie tried to jerk back away from the intruding tongue, but was only met with the back of the wall. He was pinned in between the two of them, nearly helpless in fighting off the flesh being forced into his mouth. Nearly. Little to no thought went through Oncie’s mind before he bit down on his other self’s tongue. He didn’t have the gall nor the strength to bite all the way through, but his point was made clear. His face winced up in disgust, the portion in his mouth rolling slickly across his own tongue. “Ah!” Once-ler pulled back, tongue still caught between the other’s teeth. “S’thit,” he twisted the limp dick in his hand by the base, brutal and merciless and enough to earn a pained gasp that let the wet muscle snap back into place. Blood welled up beneath Once-ler’s tongue as he watched the other cough up what he hadn’t already swallowed (and a little of what he had). His jaw jutted from left to right before a clear ‘ptoo’ ended with a clot of blood dripping down Oncie’s cheek. “Cute,” Once-ler breathed and pulled his hand out to hook his fingers under the thneed, “but I suppose it does look better on you than in me.” Snatching up his axe, he jerked his counterpart by the binding and dragged him along to the other side of the room, where a few rough kicks shoved a heap of bloody useless out of the way to be replaced with a gracelessly tossed Oncie. Once-ler half spun on the balls of his feet, lifting and slamming one so they rested on either side of the man below him. Something snarky and biting sat on the tip of his tongue, perhaps another little clever rhyme he seemed to have developed a habit for, but looking down at his other made it crumble into an empty breath. His smirk slipped a bit, fingers tightening around a wooden handle as one lone pulse, vague but familiar, beat to life in his chest. There were instances where his former self reminded him there was still a him. Not hollow. Not voracious. Every now and then, sparks of determination and – this killed him the most – pity in bruised, tired eyes made him fully aware: your conscience has not yet eradicated. Once-ler crouched again and slapped a green-encased palm over Oncie’s eyes. “Stop looking at me like that,” he growled, axe hovering in a threatening manner over his fingers, “or I’m gonna carve those baby blues right out of their fucking sockets.” The blood on the floor seeped slowly through Oncie’s clothing and he grit his teeth, swallowing down another retch. The feeling reminded him of the metallic taste still swimming around his mouth. A few quick breaths escaped his parted lips before he closed them. He couldn’t remember how he got here; he couldn’t remember anything before this. The thing that worried him most though, was not knowing how the self hovering above him now became who he was. Whirls of more elaborate and eloquent arguments spun in his head, but all he managed was a croaked, “Don’t do it.” He cringed with his words and squeezed his eyes shut. There was a stinging in them, the heralding of tears that weren’t going to show. He was long since too dehydrated for things like that. “This isn’t you...this isn’t us.” “Us...” Once-ler’s lips twitched back up into a half-smile. He moved his hand up a bit to push his thumb against a closed eyelid and began rubbing in disturbingly soothing circles, felt the shape of the squishy sphere beneath. “It was us when we started choppin’.” He pushed his thumb up, forcing Oncie’s eye open to look at him. “It was us when we counted money.” Once-ler slid the metal edge of the axe beneath the Thneed, cutting the soft material loose with one clean slice, freeing him. His other hand moved down, over Oncie’s bloody cheek, cracked lips, until his thumb was pressing into a beating pulse point just beneath his jaw. “It was us when the Barbloots fled and the Swomee Swans flew and the Humming Fish flopped.” The axe dropped with a thud and Once-ler sidled back, the pressure of his fingertips pushing skin up around his counterpart’s throat. “When everything ran out and dried up but suddenly when we try to make do...” He paused, licked his lips and without warning, snatched Oncie’s arm, wrenching him over onto his stomach so his face smacked against the blood-drenched floor. “You’re right. It’s not us.” He jerked Oncie’s hips up, yanked his pants halfway down and shoved his thigh between his legs. “It’s me versus you.” A raw grunt huffed across the damp floor. Oncie’s limbs slipped across the blood-spattered floor, spreading it further and coating his hands and feet in it. Choked, weak and dry sobs shuddered through his chest as he tried to wriggle his way away from his other self. “I...wasn’t there for that,” he said, voice just a hiss above a whisper. “That so,” Once-ler hummed. It was low, patronizing. He ground his thigh up between the space of Oncie’s legs, slid both hands down the slope of his back, pushing his shirt up to reveal inch after inch of freckled skin. “And where do you think I came from?” he groused. His conscience was literally a stain on what was left of his existence. Or maybe he was the stain that had grown to nearly consume the whole. That made more sense. Either way, Oncie was a constant reminder of everything lost that Once-ler had been striving to forget, and his value as an amusing toy was being steadily outweighed by what he represented. Cold blue irises flickered over the flesh beneath them as gloved fingers stroked up the curve of Oncie’s neck and wound through his hair, tipping his hat forward over his eyes. He could hear his breathing, short and harsh puffs that his body shook and struggled for like a dying animal. He pushed his leg out, forcing the other’s knees to slide further apart along the blood-soaked floor as Once-ler leaned down to press his mouth against the swell of a hip. It could hardly be called a kiss, with the way his lips simply pressed there, unmoving, as saliva pooled under his tongue. That really had been an unsatisfying meal. The languid twisting and turning that had been Oncie showing his discomfort with the current situation snapped into a quick, almost violent, jerk of his body when teeth sank in. He tugged against the fisted grasp of his hair even after his scalp protested. A few hairs were pulled loose and it took a forceful yank of him backwards to get him to stop. There were scars and scabbed proof of similar occurrences before, but it didn’t change the fact that it stung. Pain coursed through his body, reminding him that he wasn’t completely numb yet. Shivers stole control of his limbs until it was all he could do to just prop himself on the floor in the prone position his other self had forced him into. A cold chill threaded through him, but not from his exposed skin. His voice caught up in a hoarse gasp as he gaze focused steely on the wall across from him, anywhere but behind him. Once-ler pressed his knee behind his counterpart's to pin him in place. He bit into the only flesh on Oncie’s body where there was still a little fat left, tongue pressed up between his teeth to stroke over flushed skin. His behavior dissolved into something primal - growling and tugging and gnashing - not that his actions weren’t savage from the start. Gloved fingers wet with blood tightened through dark strands, yanking his head back until his neck craned painfully. Oncie’s jerking around certainly wasn’t helping his situation. The more he struggled the more Once-ler had to fight to keep him in place, and there was something about literally subduing his conscience that pushed this situation already going too far. Little huffs and gasps and grunts as his tongue rolled over slightly salty skin made blood pound through his ears, his limbs, his cock. Soft, pliable flesh turning red and sore between his bites and jerks made him reach down to adjust himself through suddenly too-tight pants.   When it became clear he wasn’t going to get anything with teeth alone, Once-ler let the skin snap back from his lips, a string of saliva keeping them connected as he lifted his head, only to be broken apart by a quick sweep of his tongue. An irritated growl bubbled up from the pit of his stomach as Once-ler gripped the other by his hips, thumbs pushing into the hollow indents at his lower back. His heartbeat pulsed through more than his chest, blue eyes settling on his axe as he mused that this may not be the first time this has happened, but judging by his anger and hunger, it might certainly be the last. Air hissed through Oncie’s nostrils as he drunk it in desperately. His brows furrowed deep over clenched, stinging eyelids. His backside throbbed and he could feel the chill of saliva and blood cooling over his flesh. Shakily, he pulled one of his arms up to cover the Once-ler’s hand still grasping his hair and squeezed around his shivers. He pressed his face to the blood-soaked floor and watched as his quickening pants pushed the liquid around languidly. Self-preservation was instinctually kicking in and he couldn’t help himself from pleading in order to keep himself safe. “Y-you don’t have to be like this,” he gasped around the emotions welling up in his chest. “We survived perfectly fine before you became...,” he paused, unwilling to let it fully sink in just how far this other version of him had fallen. “...how you are now.” Wrong. So off the mark Once-ler had to pause, bring a hand up to his eye as laughter trickled past his lips because that was the certainly the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. You don’t have to be like this. “Is that what you think?” he laughed, amused, breathless. “That we can just go back, to what?” He sat up a bit, pulling his weight off of Oncie as he began removing one of his gloves, plucking finger by finger. “Do you think they won’t judge all the blood on our hands?” Literal or otherwise. His conscience was so undeterred by the consequences of their reality it made Once-ler sick, infuriated.   He pulled the glove slowly by the tip of the middle finger, exposing clean, untouched skin little by little until the fabric slipped off completely. “Have you peeked outside lately?” Once-ler didn’t allow for an answer before looping the glove around the other’s throat, yanking both ends to get him up on his knees so they were back to chest.

He rested his chin on Oncie’s shoulder, dark hair falling over one blue eye as he wound the glove ends around one still green-cased hand. “No, because you can’t. You can’t stand to look at me but guess what? The feeling’s mutual.” He reached around with his free hand, bare fingertips running lightly over a glistening red lower lip before falling down Oncie’s side, where sharp nails picked at a fresh scab. “Don’t you forget that I know what’s in the pit of that little black heart. You want them to forgive you but forgiving yourself?” He snorted as skin gave way beneath his picks, a sliver of red bleeding out. “You can’t even start.”

___________________________________________________________

Vague endingg but i thoguht it worked well enough to put up since most likely it's not going to be continued aha

but original ending spoiler alert anyway

He eats him.

Derishus.

this is not fandom related it's personal with original characters/self-reflection i'm not going to tell you who they are if you read it and ask it's just self-therapy and i just need it here so i'll have easy access to it when i need to re-read it thanks

Sometimes that really cliché thing where you know what he’s going to say before he says it happens because usually it’s you feeling the exact the same way.

“I hate talkin’ on the phone.”

This is definitely one of those times.

“Me too.”

“But you’re the one who called.”

Yeah, but you’re in bed and your computer’s too far for messaging. “I know.”

“Long as you do.”

He sounds a little annoyed, like it’s more trouble than it’s worth. You’re more trouble than you’re worth. Or maybe it’s just being on the phone. Yeah, do that. It’s healthier to take the less self-loathsome route. But this is still stupid and you shouldn’t have done it but you can’t just hang up. You’ve been an annoying emotional wreck lately and you need to get it fixed.

“So is there a reason for this orrr…?”

You open your mouth but just let hang like that without saying a thing. You can hear the clack of his keyboard on the other end of the line and it hits you he’s got better things he could be doing than listening to you over the goddamn phone but here he is doing something he hates, for you. That’s the whole issue. “Why do you like me around?”

The keys stop clacking. “What?”

“Why do you like me around, like…I dunno man, I don’t do anything? There’s nothing special about me, I don’t understand what you keep me around for when you’ve got way better people you could be spending your time with.” God that’s stupid, it’s needy and pathetic and stupid but you’re being honest. There are a billion and one better people than you, more enjoyable than you, but for some reason here he is, with you, and you’d go all around your fingers and toes again and again listing off why you don’t deserve it.

“Dude, where is this even coming from?”

You can feel the heat in your face bleed all the way to the tips of your ears. “I know it’s stupid, I just…it’s been eating at me.” You’re mumbling, fuck, but you hope he hears because you really don’t want to repeat yourself.

“Well, why do you like me around?”

Your head snaps up, fingers clenching around the phone. “What? Fuck you, no, I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.”

“Oh my God.” You huff and let your face fall back into the pillow, shoulders hunching in as you tangle your fingers through your hair. There’s a bit of a stretched silence, of who’s giving in, and you contemplate just hitting END and tossing the phone across the room more than once. But what ends up happening is an exasperated sigh and you yanking the covers over your head, mumbling more into your pillow than the receiver. “You’re funny; really fucking talented and interesting…you always put me in a good mood, smart, fun…” You stop, fingers twisting into the fitted sheet as you press your face deeper into your pillow maybe with the slight hope of suffocating or smothering yourself. “This is really gay.”

“Yeah. But those are my reasons, too.”

“I’m not any of that though, that’s the thing.”

“Shut up, you are.”

Your fingers unclench from the sheets and the phone, a loosening of your shoulders as you open your eyes from being screwed shut. You’re really never going to believe that he sees you like you see him because that’s just fucking ridiculous, but you won’t say why because you know it’ll just make you more of an annoyance than you’re already being.  In all honesty yeah, you don’t deserve him and he deserves better than you, but at the same time you don’t know what you’d do without him. And you’re not used to needing someone like that and it’s as frustrating as it is rewarding and you can’t really do anything about it. “I hate you; I’m going to shit in your eye.”

“Hahaha! You love me.”

“Jesus….”

Midnight

Rating: M/NC-17? (PWP but nothing too hardcore)

Pairing: Oncest

___________________________________________________

“Oh, really,” the Once-ler splayed his hand over his former self’s swelling erection, gloved fingers gradually curling around the base, “the chopping or this?”

“Th…ngh…” Oncie’s head fell back over the curve of the other’s neck, back arching as his lower half bucked and writhed and squirmed. All of this was too much but the gloves were really pushing him past his limit, too soft and too good over rigid flesh on fire. God, what is that, suede?

“There’s quite a lot of ground between ‘really’ and ‘maybe’, Oncie.”

Those fingers squeezed and Oncie was a gasping, shuddering mess. “It’s enough!”

A smirk stretched out against his ear. “Oncie, Oncie, Oncie,” the Once-ler’s eyes narrowed over his grin, fingers building a brutal but steady pace with their strokes, “look how much your family loves you now.” He pressed a firm kiss against a pink, freckled shoulder, free hand sliding up to hook over it. “You love the attention. The money. Power. Control. You can’t lie to me.” The Once-ler smoothed his soft green fingertips along the underside of a pulsing length, earning a low moan that dribbled past Oncie’s lips before he snagged the bottom one between his teeth to silence himself. The Once-ler chuckled and jerked the other flush against himself, growling against his cheek, “There is no such thing as enough.”

“Damn it,” Oncie grunted and let his head fall forward heavily.  His hips snapped upward, sliding deliciously through those velvety fingers and how can he even think to do the right thing when his greed literally has him by the dick. “But,” he rasped and grit his teeth, black bangs shadowing over eyes already screwed shut, “my promise.”

The Once-ler simply grinned. “What’s a few broken words and few dead things,” both gloved hands slid down Oncie’s inner thighs, pushing them further apart with a laugh, “when the Once-ler and his Oncie get to live like kings?”

______________________________________________________

oops

forgot i wrote this ahaaa

Beatdown (strider fic)

The cement is black, grimy, hot. Sun is beating against your sweat-soaked nape at the same tune to the pain pulsing in your side and your cheek is scratched as raw as your hands and your knees are bruised and screaming but you don’t move. Fuck that. There is an internal riot – it hurts, don’t you feel the blood, this is not okay you asshole – but everything is suppressed beneath stiff limbs and steady breathing. If any of it breaks through you’ll be knifed way worse than bone-deep. Words cut somewhere that doesn’t fucking heal.  

You’re not moving.

“Get up.”

There’s that edge in his voice, gruff and low but not quite sharp enough yet to show he means business. You hear the blade of his katana sing as Bro slides it back into its sheath for the moment (hopefully). Your mouth opens and you try to choke something out around the cork of pain jammed in your throat. Doesn’t work. You lick your lips, try again, and this time it’s raspy and faint but hey, you got it out.

“What?” He snaps. Sighs. You are such a pain in the ass. “Christ, quit mumblin’ and get up, you’ve been through worse.”

Oh yeah.

Yeah.

The not moving rule breaks as you reach up; gingerly run your fingertips over the swollen bumps of Frankenstein stitches that line your forehead. They’re coming loose. Bro was a shiner at kicking your ass but the guy made a piss poor nurse. You clench your fist. “I said I’m good. Right here.”

There’s a beat that shadows the throb in your ears as his footsteps pound towards you. None of his flashstepping bullshit. They’re hard and heavy and even and jesus fuck that’s a million times more terrifying. ”Good is on your feet, not eating the pavement with your bony ass in the air. Get up.”

There it is. That’s the ‘don’t try me, kid’ tone.

Your nostrils flare with a long, exaggerated sigh before you extend an arm for your shitty sword. It clings and clatters across the ground as you push yourself up, but that’s all you do. Get on your feet and push your shades up because they’ve slipped too far down on your nose for comfort. Your fingers are loose around the hilt of your blade, the tip still touching the ground.

You’re tired of this. There’s air conditioning inside, a shower, your music, and a cold six pack of Apple juice and you can’t wait to go and glutton yourself on all of it to forget about this stupid strife because you’re tired of this.

Bro crosses his arms over his chest in an all too familiar show of muscular disappointment. You snap your own thin arm back down when you realize you started rubbing at it subconsciously. You’ve been noticing you noticing yourself doing that a lot lately. You make a mental note to chew out Lalonde.

“Is that how you’re gonna face the guy who just handed you a solid, painfully embarrassing beatdown?”

“I said I was good on the ground.”

His mouth twists at that sentence, like he could chew on it and spit out the bits he didn’t like. “Lazy fuck.” Even with the barrier of his shades and yours, Bro’s gaze slips like a splinter under your skin. Its intensity speaks volumes without needing a fucking word, so needling you physically shift in discomfort. And then, “But you’re doin’ better than last time.”

The comment comes out shrugged and off-handed but lightning might as well have just struck your heart with the way your chest tightens up and you fight not to snag your lower lip between your teeth. Hearing those words come out of his mouth – hearing anything that remotely sounds like praise – makes your stomach flip turnways like it’s on a trip straight out of your ass. When you’re the family fuckup, receiving credit is almost overwhelming.

If that’s not enough, this fuck’s just come up behind you. He’s got both your wrists in one hand and he’s going on about stances and straightening your shoulders with the other. Something about real men who, even wounded, keep running until they can no longer stand. Bro kicks your legs apart, smacks your lower back so you’re not a slouched over piece of shit.

“Got it?” he grunts.

No, you don’t ‘got it’. You can’t get it because his breathing is too distracting, ruffling your hair with every exhale as his fingers squeeze around your pulse. You can’t get it because his heartbeat’s like thunder, like a drum between your shoulder blades. You don’t get a word because the air has gone solid around you and you can’t draw it in for your life and the wet heat of his breath has moved to your ear so he can ask again even though you know, you know he hates repeating himself.

You lick your lips, and your voice sounds like a string that’s been pulled way too tight, but, “Yeah.”

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here's a thing

idk how to Striders it just came out

please continue your green fanfic, its such a cool idea!

aw thank you so much! i'm really happy you like it

unfortunately, i don't have a continuation planned for the drabble i posted set in that universe - but i do have a larger story planned for the idea itself that i will start once exams/school are over c:

Fanfic: Green

Rating: PG-13 for dick touching through the pants

Pairing: AU Oncest (Greed/Onceler)

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The mattress was actually creaking in protest of Once-ler’s excitement. For the life of him, he could not tear his eyes away from the clutter of green bills in the hollow of his hat, literally bouncing cross-legged on his bed. “And did you see all those people?! Oh man!”

“Gross.” Once-ler wrinkled his nose, chest deflating a bit. Sighing, he set the hat aside, mouth curving into a small pout as Greed pulled his legs off the desk, bored. “You could be a little more excited for me.” Greed’s eyes flicked up to him, cold and stern blue. “You should do something worth my excitement.” There was a stiffening in Once-ler’s thin shoulders, brow furrowing in offense as he met Greed’s glare with his own. After a moment of simply staring the demon down, he set his jaw and slid off the bed. One dark brow rose in a slow arc as Greed watched the boy settle on the floor between his legs. He plucked another string and stroked a gloved hand over the neck of his guitar, half of his mouth quirking upward. “Oh…” Once-ler licked his lips, swallowing as he pushed Greed’s legs further apart. His hands slid inward, slow, hesitant, before he rubbed the heel of his palm against the soft bulge beneath black fabric. A low groan rumbled from the demon’s chest, hips bucking in a not so subtle demand for more. But then again with Greed, demands were anything but. Once-ler bit at the inside of his cheek. He had no idea what the hell he was doing (the basics were easy enough to grasp), but that had been a really nice reaction. Still, it couldn’t hurt to have a little...help.   He reached over and tugged at one of Greed’s gloves, looking up at him. “Do these help with more than just,” he rolled his wrist in explanation, hoping that was enough to get his point across, “you know?” Oh, Greed knew. The demon snorted and rolled his hips up into Once-ler’s palm. “I don’t know. Enlighten me, Oncie.” With a grunt, Once-ler shoved his hand against Greed rougher than necessary. “Playing!” he hollered, not bothering to elaborate because the other knew perfectly well what he meant. With the way those gloves made his fingers fly over his guitar, then it wasn’t too much of a stretch to assume they could do more than that, right? Greed let a malicious grin grace his features, his hand coming up to stroke the boy’s freckled cheek. “What kind of playing?” “Wow,” Once-ler smacked the hand aside, a red flush filling his cheeks, “I’m not gonna do this with you.” Greed chuckled, amused by his determination and embarrassment more than anything else. “Well,” he husked and pulled the guitar strap over his head, propping it by the desk, “why don’t you slip them on,” he began tugging at the glove fingertips, one by one, a curtain of dark hair falling over one eye as he smiled down at Once-ler, “and find out?”

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i have this AU where Once-ler wants to be a famous musician and his ambition stupidly leads him to end up summoning a demon to help him out, Greed (which is "Greedler"). Nobody can see Greed other than him and when he wears Greed's snazzy green gloves he goes from p good guitar player to WHOAWHEREAREMYPANTieS guitar player, kind of like that episode of Futurama where Fry gets the Devil's hands.

Oh yeah and sometimes they do dirty things too.

hup.

some Valentine DaveRezi fic I'll think of a title for later

Pairing: Dave/Terezi

Rating: T

Warnings: minor bloodplay, but it's not sexual :lll

durp \:U/

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She’s been at it for like, ten solid fucking minutes.

Red eyes peer from behind the screen of sick shades and over the top of an exceptionally shitastic issue of GameBro to stare at Terezi on floor. She has Dave’s Valentine cards piled up in reds and pinks and whites on her lap and she’s practically dr – oh shit no, scratch that, she is drooling. Dave’s hand comes up slowly to make a motion over his chin, but it freezes when Terezi finally deems it enough of a problem to lift her own hand and wipe the trickle with the heel of her palm. “DAVE, THESE ARE POSITIVELY DELECTABLE! EVERY SINGLE ONE!”

He watches as she rubs a horrendously bright pink card against her cheek. His stomach does a nasty kick-flip when the sight makes him think of his own intestines, and tightens up when he realizes Terezi probably wouldn’t mind that a bit. She is really fucking into those things, good God. Dave is half-expecting her to scatter the cards on the ground so she can roll around in them. Fuck money, construction paper’s where it’s at.    

Terezi gathers the cards back up into a neat little pile before flicking her thumb over the corner of it, leafing through each one. “So you got one from every female at your school?”

She sounds impressed and that makes his heart want to beat a little faster but he puts a stop to that shit right away, breathes in deep and collects himself. A Strider heart rate any higher than average beats per second was a sharp turn off Cool Street, and that was unacceptable.  Dave flips a page of his magazine, making sure the turn is extra crinkly and obnoxious since Terezi can’t really see him do it. He has no idea what he’s reading anymore but he has to keep up appearan…soundances that he is, because otherwise it’d be too painfully obvious that he was a lot more interested in her than this upstanding piece of literature in his hands. He shrugs, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankles. “What can I say? Striders are like bees, can’t keep the honeys off.”

 A lie.

Over here in reality, Dave wasn’t really as popular as he made himself out to be online. He was cool as fuck, yeah, there’s no denying that but just because you’re cool doesn’t mean other people are intelligent enough to recognize that coolness when they see it. To everyone else, Dave was seen more along the lines of that- quiet-snarky-kid-with-the-shades-inside-and-the-earbuds-glued-to-his-head. And dudes had given him half of those cards, considering they weren’t gifts so much as obligations. Mrs. Whatshername never moved on from elementary and made the whole class exchange cards every year, so no quiet-snarky-kid-with-the-shades-inside-and-the-earbuds-glued-to-his-head or any other perceived unfortunate misfit felt left out because they were too much of a piece of shit to get a date.

Not that Dave felt that. His chest is too empty from all the fucks he dumped out. How can he feel anything with an empty chest and no fucks? This day is a bad joke and consumerism bullshit and Dave doesn’t care.

But Terezi doesn’t have to know that.

She makes a face and for a second, Dave thinks that crazy fucking nose of hers has Scoobed out his lie, and he braces for her to call him out on it. But she just smacks the card pile down on the floor, “Bluuhh! You have to mate with all of them?”

“Haha, what? They wish.”

“Good! I would be a little jealous, you know.”

That’s enough to get Dave to lower his magazine. One blond brow smoothly arcs up over his shades, just as slow as his small half-smile, “Yeah?” He tries not to look as pleased as he feels, even though that’s a little pointless, he’s got a nagging feeling that she can smell or taste or whatever which way his lips tilt, so yeah. “That’s not really somethin’ girls go around admitting.”

Terezi’s laugh is startlingly maniacal, scornful; mocking him for saying something so retarded but still thoroughly, thoroughly amused by it, “Why wouldn’t I admit it? That’s how I feel.”

“Yeah, that’s a weird thing about you.” He sticks his pinky in his ear and tosses GameBro on his bed. “Chicks are usually like all fucking riddles and codes and shit – never sayin’ what they mean or havin’ ulterior motives.” Dave takes his finger back out and flicks off what he’s dug out before stretching and shoving his hands in his jean pockets. “Luckily, Lalonde’s kept me on my toes for years with that shit.”

“What are you saying, Dave, that I never had ulterior motives?” Black lips literally pull back from ear to ear, showing off two rows of what might as well be gleaming lethal razors.

Dave isn’t fazed. On the outside. Anyway, she’s right. Terezi was those things. All of those before-mentioned things. Honest and brutal or cloak and dagger and slick as fuck, depended on the situation, really.

He clicks his tongue, “You? Never.”

“I AM AN EXPERT ON THAT SARCASM THING NOW, BY THE WAY,” Terezi huffs, feigning offense before she smiles. “But yes, that sounds stupid and complicated.”

“Yeah I’d say that’s a good way to sum up human girls in general.”

“But not troll girls?”

A smirk. Smirks were acceptable. Smirks were badass. “Not blind ones who like to mess with dudes and have a disturbing red fetish. Those are cool I guess.”

“Hehe, I see.”

“Do you?”

“VERY FUNNY DAVE, MAKE CHEAP JOKES AT THE HANDICAP GIRL.” Terezi grins when he chuckles and picks up one of the cards, an especially tasty-smelling, frilly red one. “Tell me about this flushed holiday again. You don’t spend it with all these,” she shakes her hand over the pile, indicating the people who gave them to him.

“Nah. You can spend it with friends or something. But usually you get like,” his shoulders roll back in a shrug, “one special person to spend it with, and you exchange mushy shit with each other.”

 “Mushy shit?” her nose scrunches up a bit.

“Augh no, like, you know, candy and…candlelight dinners, flowers,” Dave pulls out a hand to wave it aimlessly, “shit like that.” He snaps and points at her, “Like those romcoms Vantas is so pathetically obsessed with.”

“Well those are terrible but this is a delicious earth holiday! All these different reds, everything smells like Dave and cotton candy.”

“Pfft,” Dave chews on the inside of his cheek, taking that as a much bigger compliment than he’d like. “Didn’t you have this over in troll-land or whatever?”

“Mmm, nope! “ Terezi crosses her legs and accidentally knocks the pile over, but instead of picking them up she just spreads them out further, messier. “Quadrant Hours might have been something similar but it was nothing like this!” She smeared her thumb over some words written in crayon, enjoying the smooth texture against her rough skin. “These aren’t the kind of emotions that were particularly celebrated on Alternia. Maybe if you culled your matesprit’s enemy’s head and presented it to them, that’d be much more appropriate cause for celebration.”

She’s doing that grin again.

Dave pushes up his shades, leans back in his computer chair. “Yeah…Hallmark doesn’t really cater to that sort of thing.” He rubs his hands down his jeans and curls his fingers over his knees, still watching her as intently as when he’d started. “So you’ve never gotten a Valentine’s card?”

“Dave! How could I have gotten one if I didn’t have a Valentine’s!”

“Valentine.”

“Yes, that! Whatever!” She holds the red card up to cover her mouth, the thin edge of the top pressing just under her nose. “Though it would have been nice.”

…That is just about the saddest fucking thing Dave has ever heard.

It shouldn’t be, she didn’t even have this holiday. But the thought of Terezi not getting a single sappy ass card for her entire rage and bloodied alien existence was like one of those Nakodile fuckers chewing mercilessly away at his heartstrings. Fuck.

Wordlessly, Dave slips off of the chair and onto the floor with the troll. He picks up a random white card and opens it, laying it flat on the ground before tearing it right down the middle, the sharp rip filling the small space between them.

Hearing more ripping, Terezi leans forward, black hair spilling over her shoulder as the echo of tears sends shivers trembling down her spine. “Hey, hey, what are you up to, coolkid?”

Dave ignores her for the moment, glancing off at Caledscratch propped against a near wall. He reaches for it but then stops as a thought hits him, fingers curling into a fist that he rests on the floor as he looks back at Terezi and orders quietly, ”Open your mouth.”

Her lips do part a little, but in a more what the fuck way rather than obedience. “Dave, are you serious? Because I’m not going to lie, I’ve had dreams about this.” She flashes him a teasing grin full of teeth. “In my dream, you are the star. It’s you.”

“Jegus, quit fucking around, can you not make this…” Dave snags his bottom lip, chews slightly and lets it slide back out. “Nevermind. I was gonna say weird but, this is gonna be pretty fuckin’ weird anyway.”

“What is?”

“Just open, trust me. Fuckin Aladdin in this bitch.”

“Haha, who?”

“Tz, c’mon, open.” Finally, she listens and opens her mouth, though not quite as wide as Dave expected, which he knows she’s doing on purpose.

But that’s fine.

He brings his fist up, letting it unfurl and poking the tip of his forefinger against a sharp fang at her lower row of teeth. Dave lets it sit for a moment, feeling her tense and breathe as his skin brushes the ring of her lips. Without warning, he presses his finger harder, enough to make a dent in his flesh before swiping it downward in one smooth motion, grazing a black tongue on its way out.

“OH MY GOD!” Saliva instantly pools under Terezi’s tongue as the taste of Dave’s blood slides luscious and wonderful against her palette. She swallows to get all the saliva and sweetness down and she is nearly, nearly, unable to handle it. “DAVE, ARE YOU TRYING TO DRIVE ME CRAZY?”

Dave holds his finger perfectly horizontal so the bead of blood at its tip doesn’t drip, isn’t wasted. “Don’t have to try,” he chuckles.

Luckily, Terezi’s interest in his actions overshadows her need to grab his wrist and shove that decadent pink and red finger back in her mouth. She’s bouncing slightly in excitement, wringing her hands because she’s not sure what to do with them as she waits for Dave to finish. “What are you doing?”

“Finger-painting.” Dave traces his finger over the clean space of the card he ripped, leaving blood strokes behind in two red humps that curve in and touch at the bottom, making a heart. “Extremely fucked up and morbid finger-painting. Just how you like it.” He wonders if he should write words, too. Could she even read it? Well, she could read IM’s couldn’t she, this wasn’t all that different, right? Fuck, he really didn’t think this through.

Regardless, his hand scrambles over the top of the desk, knocking into the computer mouse before grabbing a lone pen beside it.

to the blind fucked up troll girl.

and the coolest. not even ironically.

have this valentine you cool freak.

from the heart of a strider.

Okay wow, that last bit is a little gay. But fuck it.

He caps the pen and tosses it over his shoulder, then grabs up the makeshift card, bloody fingers and all, and offers it out to her, “Happy Valentine’s.”

Terezi stops bouncing and reaches out, taking the card more delicately than he’s ever seen her handle…really anything, to be honest. Dave watches as she examines her gift, running her fingertips over the fresh bloody heart and tracing her claws over where she smells the ink of the lettering. Her expression slowly brightens from interest and curiosity to full-blown hell fucking yes. “A REAL VALENTINE’S FROM THE COOLKID HIMSELF! THIS IS ABSOLUTELY THE DOPIEST PRESENT I HAVE EVER GOTTEN! I WILL TREASURE IT, DAVE, THANK YOU!”

“Dopest, and yeah, I knew you’d like it.”

“I LOVE IT!”

“Yeah you do.”

Terezi laughs. Not that creepy yet weirdly endearing cackling thing that makes his bones quiver, but an honest to Gog laugh as she leans into his personal space. “So, Mister Dave Strider, am I the one special person then?”

“Well you’re definitely one. And you’re definitely special.”

“Dave!”

He shrugs.

“Heh,” Terezi flips the card over and gives the heart one swift lick, “and you’ll let me lick your finger but not your delicious eyes?”

“Wow, first of all, there is a shitton of middleground between licking my finger and licking my eyes. Second, how do you know they’re so fuckin’ delicious if you never tasted them?” Jesus Christ did he just say that? That shit just fell out of his mouth. It’s all over his floor, his socks, what the fuck. This alien broad was seriously getting to him, what the fuck had twisted up in his head that it was totally okay now to talk about how his eyes tasted.

Probably the same thing that snapped apart and made it a thing for him to paint a crappy heart for her with his own blood.

Well.

Shit.

“Every smell carries a little taste with it, numpnuts! Even grubs know that!”

“Really. Cuz I was betting it was from you fantasizing about them so much.”

She grins. “I didn’t say it wasn’t.”

“Cute.  You’re still not putting a tongue in my eye.” Dave laughs softly and wipes his hand on his jeans, feather light bangs brushing over his forehead. “You should know best what happens messin’ with shit like that.”

“HAHA MORE BLIND JOKES. LOOK AT ME, SASS MASTER; I AM EXCRETING FLUIDS FROM THE FORCE OF MY LAUGHTER.”

“Gross, but you really are getting a handle on the sarcasm. And the rhyming.”

“Hehe,” Terezi lays the card down and reaches up, only mildly surprised when Dave doesn’t stop her from pulling his shades off. She sets them by the card and scuttles closer, holding Dave’s cheeks in her palms as her thumbs smooth over his closed eyelids. “How’s a kiss then? That’s part of the ‘mushy shit’ that you’re supposed to do, right?”

“…You wanna kiss my eye,” Dave deadpans.

“I wanna kiss a lot of you.”

“Well, fuck, how do I say no to that?” He earns that laugh again as she leans in, only to pout when Dave stops her with a hand on her arm. “Hold up.” His fingers slide up the length of her arm, cupping a knobby shoulder before tracing over the curve of her throat, her cheek, and slips one arm of her glasses between his first two fingers, flicking them up to reveal her eyes.

It’s perfect because he doesn’t feel naked not wearing his shades around her, because they’re pointless, she can see right through him anyway. Really, if they weren’t so fucking out-there lookin’, and no one told you she was blind, you wouldn’t know. They’re endless and so focused on his own that Dave has to let the heartbeat rule drop for a second, because goddamn.  “There,” he murmurs, smirking, “even.”

Terezi mirrors his smirk and moves in, pressing a firm kiss to the very corner of a half-lidded red eye before pulling back.

“That’s it? I thought you said a lot of me.”

She tucks her hair behind her ear with a low, throaty laugh. “And lick. And chew. But we’ll work up to those, because you’re such a fucking wimp about it.”

Dave snorts, “Your burns need work. My face needs work.”

“Your FACE needs – damn it! Dave!”

Dave chuckles as his hand falls to cover hers over the card and beside his shades, claws scraping his skin as their fingers tangle lazily and he presses his mouth to hers. 

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first of all i am really sorry if the second half of this is so shitty, i started yesterday but didn't have time to write and wanted to get it done today so..i rushed <____> i also think they're kinda out of character :l idrk how to write either of them;; but there's a first try for everything, so hopefully it's not too horrible and i'll get better 8I 

uh yeah

Happy Valentine's ;u;/

GRATUITOUS NARUINOKIBA PORN BECAUSE CHII IS THE BEST OK OK <3

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Kiba laid his forehead on Ino’s shoulder, grunting softly when she arched her back away from his chest and into Naruto’s, forcing both their cocks deeper inside her. Wait no, fuck, Naruto wasn’t in this. Naruto was not one quivering naked body away from his own, with his dick hardly an inch away from Kiba’s. “Shit,” he rasped, knowing full and well that his best friend was just one peek over Ino’s shoulder, which he fucking refused to look over. But his presence was really hard to ignore when he could feel the occasional brush of their legs – not smooth like hers, not one fucking bit, but still sent sparks blazing through his nerves all the same – or the way the mattress creaked and groaned every time he snapped his hips up in unison with Kiba’s.

God.

He moved his lips to the nape of Ino’s neck, parting her hair with his nose and letting his eyes slip shut.

Naruto wasn’t much different below him. He tried to focus on Ino’s face, her pretty flushed cheeks and half-lidded aquamarine eyes, but every now and then he’d catch a glimpse of Kiba’s shaggy head or a tan, muscular arm between the cascades of Ino’s hair on both sides of him. A small furrow creased his brow as she shut his eyes, digging his fingers into Ino’s waist and thrusting a little more harshly into her than he’d meant to, and then felt Kiba’s balls brush against his dick and for a moment, every goddamn muscle in his body froze up with a sharp gasp.

Fuck.

It was really weird to think about them fucking at the same time, but luckily there wasn’t much room for thinking. Or unluckily. Depended how you looked at it. All Naruto knew was every time Ino squeezed around his cock it was so good he made noises he used to only associate with pain, and then Kiba, fuck, he’d make those noises too, and Naruto swore the ache it caused in his body pierced him right to the bone.  

Between them, Ino was literally trembling with the pleasure of being filled to brink. But when Naruto froze up, she noticed, and opened one eye in a squint to find him with his own screwed shut beneath her, and Kiba’s face buried against the back of her neck, his breathing shallow, quick, and hot on her skin.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out these two morons were trying to pretend the other didn’t exist right now, and that just wasn’t going to work. In Ino’s point of view, this was team effort. Plus, if they were too busy avoiding eye contact, then they weren’t performing at their best here, and if she was letting them put their cocks inside her then she expected nothing less than the best in return.

She leaned down, pressing her chest against Naruto’s as her mouth parted over his. “Naruto~,” she sing-songed, rocking her hips back into both of them.

Naruto shuddered, his knees drawing up and knocking clumsily into hers and Kiba’s, his reply a little breathless, “Yeah?”

“Do me a favor,” Ino whispered, rubbing her thumb over Naruto’s cheek. A low moan bled out of her when she reached back with her other hand, tangling her fingers through brown hair and using the hold to tug their other partner down with her, over her shoulder. “And kiss Kiba.”

Whatever spare blood they had rushed to both men’s cheeks, coloring them completely red. Kiba was the first to protest, “Like hell I’m kissin’ this loser!”

“Fuck you, dog breath!”

“Hey!” Ino clenched her insides, effectively shutting both of them up with ragged gasps. Only these two could possibly keep the sense to argue during a time like this. She tugged at Kiba’s hair with one hand and squished Naruto’s cheeks with the other, rolling her hips languidly. “Kiss him,” she demanded.

There was a deadlock between the three of them for a moment. Naruto decided to break it with a long exhale and pushed himself up on his elbows.

Ino watched as blue eyes narrowed at Kiba, who was still red-faced and utterly still with a curled lip and an expression that read I fucking dare you, Uzumaki.

Naruto had never been one to back down from one of those.

He lurched forward and caught his friend’s mouth with his own, Ino watching out of the corner of her eye as she leaned against Naruto’s chest, a small smile on her lips at the gruff ‘mph!’ Kiba made. She literally had to hold back a laugh when Naruto pulled back and Kiba instinctively followed after his mouth, before catching himself and looking away with a huff, his nails digging into Ino’s hips.

“There,” she chimed, and followed Naruto’s tongue with her fingertip when it swept over his bottom lip; picking up whatever taste Kiba had left behind. Her eyes lidded, smug, as she ran her hand through Naruto’s hair, pushing his bangs back as she smirked over her shoulder at Kiba, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

OT3 tiem

Boundary of Adoration

Title: Boundary of Adoration

Pairing: Shinjo/Naruto (DarkNaruto/Naruto)

Rating: M

Warnings: twincest, sexual situations

accompanying art drawn by zombieskully <3

Boundary of Adoration

It was 2 AM, and Naruto was alone. Not alone in the full sense of the word, his parents were asleep, and his brother was at a friend’s, but alone as he needed to be, because he knew what he was doing was something you don’t really share with anyone else. The door to the gameroom was closed, lights were off, and he sank further into his blue bean-bag chair. His childhood was scattered on the carpeted floor, action figures and Hot Wheels cars lying beside far-more-used X-box and Playstation and dog-eared comic books. They were cast in the white-blue flicker of the television, and a stark, disturbing contrast to the naked woman moaning on it as she writhed against her lover. Naruto bit his lip and fumbled with the remote as she let out a particularly loud moan, quickly lowering the volume. It wouldn’t do well to have his parents walk in on their fifteen year old son watching Hotel Erotica at 2 AM. Naruto stared at the screen, blue eyes half-lidded, mouth parted, head tilted to the slightest right. The woman – Katherine, he thinks is her name – whispered something, longing and breath-filled and passionate, and it made Naruto pulse inside his pants. His hand wandered up from his side, smoothing over his sleep-pants and sliding down the inside of his thigh. A groan built up in the back of his throat as he covered the bulge between his legs, fingers splayed and palm rubbing gently as he remained fixated on the screen. The door opened. “JESUS!” Naruto hollered, scrambling for the remote as the light switch was flipped on, flooding the room in far too exposing brightness as Naruto quickly changed the channel to some late-night anime. Shinjo stood in the doorway, finger still under the switch and a Blow-Pop hanging out of his mouth as he stared down at his twin. “Whatcha doin’?” “Nothing! Fuck! Turn off the light! Fuck, what the fuck, I thought you were at your friend’s!” Shinjo grinned slowly, eyeing his brother’s hard-on, “Doesn’t look like ‘nothing’.” He turned off the light and quietly closed the door. “And nah, I missed you too much.” There was a bump in his right cheek as he pushed the Blow-Pop against it with his tongue, catching the white stick between his teeth as he glanced at the TV and chuckled, “I know you’re not getting off on Inuyasha, bro, what were you watching before?” Heat spread across Naruto’s bare shoulders, crawled up his throat and flooded his cheeks. “Nothing!” he repeated. “Hm,” Shinjo shoved a few toys to the side with his foot and plopped down in his black bean-bag beside his brother’s, wordlessly reaching over and snatching the remote out of his hand. “HEY!” Naruto lurched for the stolen device but the brush of his erection against his pants sent sparks of electric pleasure through his nerves, making him go still. He watched as Shinjo completely ignored him and looked for the ‘return channel’ button on the remote, gnawing his lip when he found it and the television flipped back to the soft-core porn Naruto had been touching himself to. Shinjo’s eyes widened slightly and he laughed out loud. “Haha! What the fuck, seriously?” Naruto’s face was hot and red with shame. He twisted his hips to try and hide his erection but only managed to make himself shudder and turn redder. “Shut up! You’re gonna wake up Mom and Dad!” Shinjo glanced at him, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’re the one yellin’.” The white stick shifted to the other corner of his mouth as he turned back to the TV, watching the actors fuck in the most ridiculous position he’d ever seen just to cover up their genitals. “What are you watching this shit for? You know we’ve got the hard stuff.” Naruto glowered at him. He did know they had the hard stuff. He knew the exact channel numbers, but he couldn’t care less about them. “That stuff is…stupid,” he mumbled, gripping his bean-bag with one hand and rolling the little Styrofoam balls inside between his fingers. He looked off to the side. “Pointless.” Naruto was embarrassed that was he getting off on something that most people considered a joke. But in all honesty with himself, he just wasn’t fucking interested in straight out porn. He didn’t care about how tight some used up chick’s vagina was and he didn’t care how big the guy was or how hard he could fuck her or how loud he could make her yell like an angry fucking cat, he didn’t care about any of that. The soft-core stuff wasn’t perfect either, but at least it focused more on the emotional aspects, and tried to have a story behind what was going on. He liked that. He responded to that. As sappy and cheesy as it was, Naruto found it more appealing to watch people pretend to “make love” than to watch people fuck. And he was never going to admit that out loud. To anybody. Ever. But luckily (or unluckily), in Shinjo’s case, he would never have to. Shinjo’s lips titled in a half-grin, “You’re such a sap.” He set the remote down out of Naruto’s reach, leaving the channel where it was. Naruto’s eyes narrowed. He had expected him to leave. “What are you doing?” Shinjo popped the stick out of his mouth, slivers of pink gum peeking out from the red-head of candy. “Bonding,” he said simply, gesturing to the TV. “You’re not serious.” “If this is what you like,” Shinjo let his Pop tilt back in his fingers, so it pointed to his chest, “then this is what I like.” “I’m not watching this with you!” Naruto clenched his bean-bag, glaring at his brother. “Don’t pull any of your weird shit, Shinjo.” Shinjo turned to him, white grin far too wide and blue eyes too mischievous not to make Naruto uncomfortable. “Weird shit?” Naruto banged his fist on the floor, but its frustration was smothered out by the carpeting. “Don’t play fucking stupid! You know what I’m talking about!” “From what I recall, you fucking enjoyed that ‘weird shit’. Or did you forget how fast we had to go wash our pants so Mom wouldn’t find them in the laundry?” Naruto’s ears burned at that memory, and it left him sputtering. So he yelled out the only thing that made him feel better in situations like that, “Fuck you!” “Heh,” Shinjo smirked triumphantly, sliding the Blow-Pop back into his mouth as he turned his attention to the TV again. Naruto glared at him as he sank into his bag, reluctant to look back himself. The mere sound of the couple panting and their damn headboard banging against the wall was enough to fill in every space of silence in the room (despite the volume being so low) between him and his twin, was enough to still make his fingers itch to grab the need between his legs. He felt awkward and embarrassed having Shinjo just sit there, smiling so calmly at the screen and looking so unfazed knowing Naruto was hard right beside him. Ever worse was that, Naruto knew his brother knew he was thinking this, knew Naruto better than he knew himself and knew just the right red-buttons to push, and that just turned Naruto on more, and he felt there was something severely wrong with him because of that. Suddenly, Shinjo looked at him pointedly. Well, not at him specifically, but at his clearly and painfully hard dick tenting in his pants. “You’re not gonna touch it?” Naruto tensed, whispering harshly, “What?! No! Fuck! Not with you here! God, Shinjo, what the fuck?” Shinjo’s eyes flickered to the television, then back to Naruto as he reached up, pulling his Blow-Pop out with a particularly hard suck. “If you’re not gonna touch it, I’m gonna touch it.” “No!” “Then touch it.” “NO!” Shinjo shrugged, like it was no big deal, and didn’t get up and walk over so much as roll over right on top of Naruto, the bean-bag shifting beneath their combined weight. Naruto barely had time to curse at him before his brother’s hips rolled into his, the feel of candy-kissed lips sticky on his throat. He garbled something that didn’t make sense as his spine went liquid-lightning, and his hands shot up to push at a grinning Shinjo’s face. Shinjo pulled Naruto’s hands from his face and pushed them down. He leaned up and poked Naruto’s nose with the end of the stick still jutting out from between his lips. “Don’t be noisy,” he warned. “THEN DON’T RUB YOUR FUCKING DICK AGAINST MINE!” “Fine,” Shinjo let go of one of Naruto’s hands, which nearly flew up and punched his face were it not for the firm rock of his hips that made his brother gasp and fist unclench to grope for Shinjo’s shoulder instead. Shinjo grinned and pulled the Blow-Pop out, “Here, hold this for me,” he said and shoved the candy between Naruto’s lips. Naruto coughed, the head of the Pop having hit the back of his throat, making his eyes water. He glared as Shinjo laughed and pinched his cheeks in with one hand, making his mouth pucker. “Look at that,” he murmured, “now you have me inside your mouth.” His lips stretched out, painted candy-red as his fingertips skimmed their way down Naruto’s bare chest. “I should return the favor.” Naruto’s mouth ripped open in a shuddering breath as his brother’s lips and teeth raked their way down his stomach, pinching skin and sucking until it hurt before licking it all better. He shook his head stupidly, a pang of nausea in his gut before it was overrun with unbearable heat. Shinjo’s mouth was wrapped around his protruding dick, and he was dragging his fucking tongue over the clothed bulge while massaging Naruto’s thighs with hard and insistent rubs of his fingers. Naruto’s head fell over the back of the bean-bag, his fingers tangling into Shinjo’s shaggy blond hair as the Blow-Pop dangled from his lips. “Fuck!” Shinjo flattened his tongue over the pulsing length, making Naruto’s thighs quiver beneath his hands before he looked up at him, annoyed. “I said don’t be noisy, you.” He pressed his palm roughly over the bulge, and Naruto gasped, face flushed and fingers tightening in his brother’s hair as he practically chewed up his lip to keep quiet, the Blow-Pop pressing against the inside of his cheek. Shinjo laughed softly and looked back down, opening his mouth to lavish his twin with further affection before something made him pause. He stared at Naruto’s pants and pinched the black cloth between his fingers, gaze flickering over the pattern of little orange frogs that dotted them. “Hey,” he said, looking up again, “these are mine.” Naruto’s face was still red but his eyes narrowed significantly, sliding to the side as his mouth curved into a pout around the stick, knowing that fucker was going to be smug about this. “I couldn’t find mine,” he mumbled, then raised his voice defensively, “and you weren’t even supposed to be here tonight!” Shinjo stared at him, his lips gradually stretching into a grin. “Really,” he chuckled; dragging himself back up his brother’s flushed body. His pressed his lips against Naruto’s craned neck, sucking on his Adam’s apple so Naruto’s hands came up with a gasp and clawed over his shirt. He let go and spoke softly against tanned skin so much like his own, “So, what you’re telling me is, you were gonna come in here and jerk-off,” he whispered and moved up further, caught Naruto’s bottom lip with his teeth as he thrust his own erection –suffocating in his jeans – against Naruto’s thinly clothed one, shattering his brother’s curse so it fell in crumbs off his tongue. “While wearing my pants,” he finished haughtily. Naruto could feel his heart hammering. It was really hard to think when Shinjo’s hips were still rubbing mercilessly against his, making his toes curl in and his eyes roll back, but the back of his mind nagged that he hadn’t thought about what he was doing in the way Shinjo pointed it out, and it made him sick with shame to think that somewhere in his subconscious, Naruto knew his brother was absolutely right. He went looking for these fucking pants, when any would have done just fine. Nevertheless, “It’s not fucking like that!” Shinjo snorted and leaned down, dipping his tongue expertly into Naruto’s panting mouth and curling it around the Blow-Pop to bring it back into his own. He chuckled when Naruto snapped his lips shut, then pushed forward, so the stick was trapped between their mouths. “Isn’t it?” Shinjo mocked, rocking and rutting so ruthlessly against his brother he had Naruto grunting and arching into him for more. Naruto fought to keep his mouth shut but eventually the pleasure was too much, strings of it racing and snapping through his veins as Shinjo finally dropped the Blow-Pop and ground his erection against Naruto’s, pushing a fray of blond bangs up and out of his face with both hands. “Shit – hah!” Naruto’s back bowed, the bean-bag molding into it from below as his skin crawled towards the heat his brother’s body promised. Shinjo’s laugh burst over Naruto’s lips, his thumbs lovingly smoothing out the tense wrinkles of his forehead. “You’re gonna come,” he chuckled softly – not a demand and not a question, but a simple observation. Goddamnit. He was right. Shinjo was always right. And Naruto hated him being right about this. Things like good and wrong were way too fucking close for his liking, because his moral was drowned out by the sounds his brother made him make, sounds that came out and slammed their fists against the walls in brusque and desperate demands for more. More Shinjo. More contact. More, more, more. “Fuck you – fuck! I can’t like this!” Shinjo frowned, his brow crumpling as he forced Naruto’s head back by the hold he had on his hair. “Why?” he growled. “You love me, right?” Naruto grit his teeth and punched his brother’s shoulder. “Of course I do!” “Good.” Shinjo grinned and pressed his cheek against his brother’s, sighing warm and wanting over his ear, “I love you, too.” Suddenly, Shinjo’s hands seemed to be everywhere, sliding down Naruto’s sides and following the dip into his back. Naruto made something between a choke and a gasp when those hands slipped inside his pants, cupping what they found there and forcing Naruto up tighter against Shinjo’s body. And suddenly Shinjo’s tongue drug hot and wet up his cheek, the rough material of his shirt scratched over Naruto’s nipples, and he moaned in Naruto’s ear and shuddered against Naruto’s body and an emotion that this was too easy and too natural and too fucking good ripped through him like lightning. Shinjo knew what the sharp arch of Naruto’s hips meant and he quickly muffled his brother’s short yell with a kiss, smirking into it as he came against him. Naruto’s body continued a slow roll, riding out his orgasm as his nails bit into the meat of Shinjo’s shoulders. He had to admit that he liked this part, with just them in a glow before the inevitable wave of guilt that came every time (for him, at least), so he breathed it in deep, let it dance in his lungs before exhaling out again. He let his head hang back over the bean-bag, away from Shinjo, panting quietly as cool air hit his flushed cheeks. But he jerked up a second later when felt a finger hook into his waistband, pulling back as Shinjo peeked inside. “Hey!” “Just wanna make sure you didn’t make too much of a mess this time,” Shinjo chuckled and let the band snap back into place. “These are still mine.” Naruto’s head fell back once more, his laughter deep with a hint of delirium as his hand came up and slapped over his eyes. “Fucker.”

Maybe I'm Just Tired

Title: Maybe I'm Just Tired

Pairing: SasuNaruSasu

Rating: M (more for caution, I really think it's "T" :I)

Warnings: drinking, drunk!Naruto, drunkstuff some awkward kissing idk

Maybe I'm Just Tired

The air was heavy with the smell of beer and smoke, and whoever owned this house couldn't possibly be happy with the fact that that blond girl was vomiting in the corner. No one seemed to notice her though, she wasn't so important that she could stand out amongst the throng of sweaty bodies or drugged up laughter or blasting music. Things like that were expected at parties anyway, and so very easily overlooked. Naruto fell sideways on the couch as Bombs Away blared in the background, falling right into someone's lap. He looked up, glazed blue eyes rolling lazily over a tan face with red tattoos under sharp eyes. He raised one hand and grinned. "I'm Naruto." The other snorted and raised one hand back, waving it slightly with his own fogged up gaze. "I'm Kiba." Abruptly, the both burst into laughter, leaning into each other with so much hilarity spilling out of their guts that they were grabbing them with tear-touched eyes. But just as suddenly, Naruto stopped laughing, and looked up at Kiba with an almost confused expression, as if he'd completely forgotten what had been so funny in first place. "Dude, I know that," he said. Silence. Naruto's mouth spread into a slow grin, a goofy one that clearly reflected his brain was nothing but fuzz and bubbles at the moment. "I'm Naruto." Kiba's bark of laughter startled the blond even more than the sudden hand he pushed against his face. "Man, y're so fuckin' wasted! Haha!" Naruto smacked the hand away and slapped his own against Kiba's tattooed cheek, still grinning up at him. "Not enough, if I can still recognize your ugly face." He paused and pushed his thumb and forefinger in so Kiba's mouth puckered, then laughed at it. "And if I can still use the word 'recognize'." He shoved his finger in the air and kicked one leg up. "More beer!" "Dude, dude!" Kiba reached over him, grabbing a full can of beer off the table in front of them, which was supporting a rather impressive pyramid of empty cans they had already drunk. "S'play Boozefall!" Boozefall was a game their (wasted) brains had created where one person laid on the other's lap while the other person raised a can of beer up and poured it into his or her mouth, to see how much they could get down before choking. The stream of booze kind of looked like a waterfall as it came down, hence the name "Boozefall." Kiba and Naruto are geniuses, if you can't tell. Naruto's nose scrunched up lightly. "Hell no, you almost drown me last time!" "Naw naw, this time," Kiba popped open the cap, "this time I got it, got this shit." "Ffff," Naruto reached up, poking his fingers over Kiba's face with his blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Iunooo," he drawled, suddenly breaking off in sputters as a miniature blow-up was thrown right on his face. Sakura plopped herself down on top of Naruto's stomach, stretching her arm across the back of the couch and crossing her legs as she smiled at her friends, pink hair pulled back with two glittery clips. "I thought you might appreciate that," she giggled as Naruto looked at the doll before chucking it over the couch arm behind him. Sakura tugged down her skirt, the beer in Kiba's hand catching her emerald eyes. "What are you doing?" Kiba raised the can with a grin, some liquid sloshing out over his fingers. "Boozefall!" Sakura rolled her eyes and brought her fist up to rest her cheek on it. "Are you two that drunk already?" She eyed the beer-pyramid on the table and raised a brow. "How many have you had?" "Two," Naruto slurred. Sakura frowned at him, glaring. He laughed nervously and scrubbed one hand through the blond spikes on his head. "Less than 12." Kiba kneed Naruto's shoulder to get his attention back. "Ready?" "Hell yeah!" Naruto tilted his head back and opened his mouth, watching as his friend's tongue poked out in concentration, the beer hovering over him. Kiba bit his lip to hold back a snigger as he tilted it and light-brown liquid cascaded and splashed over Naruto's nose, mouth and chin. He coughed and sputtered, Kiba laughing hysterically as he gasped for breath and Sakura slipping off his stomach as he rolled right off of Kiba's lap and thumped onto the carpeted floor. All three of them were in a fit of laughter, Naruto not even able to care when his floor-rolling made him crash into the table and their pyramid came clattering down, beer cans rolling off the edge and raining over him. Nobody else noticed their antics, the music still blasting as all the joy in the world shrank down to the drunken stupidity of their tiny circle. Naruto wiped the tears from him eyes and rubbed his sleeve over the beer on his face, still chuckling. "Aw, c'mon guys, c'mon," he pleaded, getting up on wobbly legs and holding his hands out to them. "Let's dance!" Kiba was still laughing. "I can't – haha!" He put one hand over his stomach and let his head fall back over the couch as he tried to calm down. "If I get up I'll vomit, fuck." Sakura made a face at him but smiled as Naruto fell back on couch with them, kicking his legs over Kiba and resting his head in her lap this time. She made a soft sound that was lost over the music and began running her fingers gently through the golden strands of her friend's hair. "Hey, Naruto," she said, "I thought your roommate was coming?" There was a warm throb that came to life in Naruto's head at those words. "Pft," he snorted and relaxed into her fingers. "I told 'im, but he wouldn't come. Party shitter." Sakura pouted lightly. "He hardly ever comes out with us." "Cuz he's an asshole," Naruto gruffed, cheeks flushed as the throbbing began to meld with the strokes of Sakura's slim fingers, soothing him. "God, why do you talk about him so much?" He grinned and let his arms flop out. "I'm right here, talk about me." "Pft," Kiba smacked those arms with a toothy grin. "If she ain't talkin' about him, you are." Then he proceeded to do a whiny and rather poor drunken imitation of Naruto complaining about Sasuke: "What a prick! Isn't he a douche? Don't you wanna hit 'im?" "Well, he is…and I do," Naruto argued quietly, his lids fluttering under the soft, steady strokes running through his hair. "Allll the goddamn time, Sasuke this and Sasuke that blah bluh blargh," he made a dramatic hand wave. "When we've got this pretty chick we could talk about instead," Kiba leaned into Sakura with a white smile, while Naruto chuckled in agreement and turned his face into her flat stomach. Sakura snorted and pushed Kiba's face away while tugging Naruto back gently by his hair. "Flattering, you two," she chimed, lips tilted the slightest bit. Her eyes scrunched up merrily as she tapped one manicured finger against the tip of Naruto's nose. "I think you have a crush," she teased. "Wha," Naruto murmured, eyes already closed. "Yeah," she giggled and stroked her thumb over his eyelids. "Like when little boys fight with girls on the playground." Naruto was barely hearing her, his head was cloudy and her fingers were so damn soothing. " "Mehn..." "Naruto?" Sakura blinked and shook him lightly. "Hah! What a loser! He passed out!" Kiba slapped the other boy's leg on his lap with a huge grin. "Idiot." Naruto's mouth dropped open but all that came out was a string of drool and a loud snore.

_________________________________________

Naruto's senses awoke to the smell of vanilla, and he breathed it in strong and sweet. His eyes were still closed, heavy and drowsed with his mind still in a drunken haze. Slowly, he realized that he was no longer on the couch at the party, but was piggybacking off of someone with his arms draped over their shoulders and his nose buried in soft, soft hair. Naruto breathed in again, groaning softly and smiling as he was assaulted with that rich scent. His muddy brain slowly pieced that Sakura smelled good, was freakishly strong for a girl, definitely had soft hair and was the last person he'd seen before he passed out. Thus, Sakura must be the one carrying him home, thinking he was still asleep. His arms were hanging right over her chest. Drunk Naruto was pretty stupid. All this added up to Naruto grinning into soft hair as his hands rose up and groped at the chest behind them. The body stopped walking, standing utterly still as Naruto's hands roved over a surprisingly flat, hard chest, his mouth dipping into a small frown. "What are you doing?" Sasuke snapped. Naruto didn't have to open his eyes to know Sasuke's mouth was twisted upward, that one of his eyebrows was significantly raised as he glared at his roommate over his shoulder. He also knew that he had to answer Sasuke's question, seeing as how his fingers were still squeezing around Sasuke and looking for something that clearly was not there. It wasn't too disappointing though, hm… Okay wait, wait, Sasuke had asked him what he was doing. There were two responses to this that Naruto's mushed brain came up with. You're not Sakura. You don't have boobs. C'mon Naruto, you can do it. His brow furrowed, eyelids parted as blearily and slowly as his mouth, "…You're not have boobs." Wait… Sasuke straightened up and Naruto was unceremoniously dumped on the ground. He cursed and sat up carefully, his world still swimming slightly as rubbed his lower back and looked up through milky blue eyes at a scowling Sasuke. "Where's Sakura? N'Kiba?" He glanced around them, taking in the empty street and black night sky. "Wh…" "Sakura took Kiba home and called me to come get your wasted ass." "Oh…" Naruto's lips curved into a pout. "Well that sucks." "Hmph," Sasuke shoved his hands into his jean pockets and kept walking. "Ah – hey Sasuke!" the drunk blond called, scraping his palms over asphalt as he scrambled on the sidewalk. Sasuke paused and looked coolly over his shoulder. "If you're sober enough to grope people, you're sober enough to stumble two blocks home." Naruto made a face; something caught between a grimace and a pout as he tried, pathetically, to get off of the ground but kept tripping up and falling on his ass. Sasuke just watched him, slowly raising a brow when Naruto started slowing down. Naruto moaned, his stomach protesting all the movement. He laid down flat and rolled over the sidewalk until he rolled right off and flopped onto the grass, feeling nauseous and looking the very definition of a hot mess. He raised his head slightly, "Sasukeeee!" "Augh," Sasuke blew a bang out of his face and rolled his eyes. He walked back over to the idiot. "Seriously?" Naruto made another drawn out groaning sound and carefully managed to get on one knee. Sasuke sighed and curled his lip, reluctantly bending over to awkwardly rub the heel of his palm over Naruto's back. After a while of more groaning and threatening gagging on Naruto's part that nearly made Sasuke jump out of his skin, Naruto finally reached up and tugged Sasuke's arm with a smile and without having spit up a single thing. "Nahh, s'gone." "Good. Now get up." "Sas'keee" Naruto stuck out his lower lip and reached up to Sasuke, wiggling his fingers. Sasuke's brow twitched. At this rate, they were never getting home. He was half-tempted to leave the drunken idiot out here but if something happened to him, Sakura and Kiba would never let him hear the end of it. "Dumbass," he grumbled, bending down and hoisting the other boy up. Sasuke had to brace himself as Naruto practically collapsed over him, slinging one arm around Sasuke and leaning all his weight against his side. He grunted and slid one hand around Naruto's waist, jerking him up by his jeans and attempting to take a step forward but Naruto was not helping at all. "Naruto! You can't just lean against me, fucking moron! I swear to God, I will drag your sorry ass back if you don't put some goddamn effort into this." Naruto stared at him, hearing him but not entirely understanding what he was saying. That wasn't his fault though, Sasuke's face was really, really distracting. With his eyebrows furrowed and his nose all scrunched up and mad…that probably wasn't a good thing, but Naruto thought it looked good anyway. His mouth was really pink, too, and Naruto liked the way it opened into this little angry black hole before closing and getting all tight again. Heh, tight. Naruto titled his head and leaned into Sasuke, who stopped scolding him and just stood still and watched him back silently. He looked straight into Sasuke's eyes, and if he were sober, such intimate contact and so up close probably would have scared the shit out of him, but right now they just looked dark and cool and very concentrated on his own. His lips were a breath away from Sasuke's, and something was building up inside of him, something profound and beautiful that he wanted to say to him and was bubbling up his throat at an alarming pace. Naruto opened his mouth. Burp. "What the – Naruto! God, fuck, what the fuck!" Sasuke didn't let him go but he did try and bat the stench of beer and Naruto-breath out of his face. Naruto grinned at him, oblivious, and leaned into him again. He used the arm slung around Sasuke to pull him in closer and buried his nose into the nape of his neck, tickled by the dark strands that brushed over him as he inhaled deeply. "Y'know, you smell s'pretty." He chuckled as Sasuke flushed, and reached up to poke a slightly red, pale cheek. "Like a girrrl, haha!" Irritated, Sasuke snorted and promptly punched him in the side, satisfied when he made him whine. "Naruto, just…shut up."

x-X-0-X-x

It was around two in the morning when they finally made it to their apartment. Naruto's room was night blue, his bed highlighted like a stage by the moonlight and Sasuke was beyond ready to shove him onto it and go back to his. In fact, he was just about to do this, when Naruto suddenly gripped his shirt tightly and pulled back. "Wait," he murmured. "What?" Sasuke snapped. Naruto looked to the side, narrowing his eyes at the bathroom, as if in challenge. "I gotta piss," he pushed himself away from Sasuke and stumbled a few steps over to the door. Naruto leaned against it and lowered his hand to turn the doorknob – and missed. His brow crumpled, fingers closing and opening at all the air around the knob but never once actually gripping it. He smiled and kept trying to grab for it anyway, not even looking up as he said, "Shit, it keeps movin', Sasuke!" Sasuke pinched bridge of nose. He sighed and walked over, slapping Naruto's hand away and with a grip, twist, and push, the door flew open and Naruto went tumbling inside. Sasuke watched him lay on the floor, laughing like it was the most hilarious thing in the world. "Shit! Shit, m'gonna piss!" He could not stop the laughter, even as he struggled to get up but kept slipping and falling back on the linoleum tiles. He looked absolutely stupid, and Sasuke couldn't help his own amused chuckling as his fingertips came up over his lips. But after a moment of Naruto still just sniggering on the floor, Sasuke's neck flushed when he realize he might really have to help him get up and take a piss. He hesitated, looking over his shoulder to entertain the thought of leaving, but that was only for a brief moment. Sasuke looked at Naruto, who had finally stopped laughing and was now glaring at the toilet with those airy eyes. Sasuke cleared his throat awkwardly, "Do you need…?" Naruto cocked his head back, studying Sasuke for a second before his own face flared up as well. "No!" He sat against the wall and pouted. "I can just…" He trailed off, crossing his legs tight and letting his head loll with a groan of frustration. Sasuke bit the inside of his cheek and stepped into the bathroom. He was relieved when Naruto accepted the hand to help him up, and Sasuke guided him to stand in front of the toilet. Kicking the lid up with the tip of his sneaker, Sasuke sidled up behind Naruto, holding his weight against his own. He tried to keep his face passive as he undid Naruto's jeans, but when Naruto's fingers wrapped around his thin, pale wrists, he felt the warmth creep up his throat and knew his cheeks went red as hell. Naruto watched as Sasuke pulled his cock out, transfixed. His face was dusted pink as well but he looked more dazed than embarrassed. He moaned softly as he finished his business, with Sasuke trying his damnedest to keep his breathing even behind him. Sasuke swore he broke a world record with how fast he tucked Naruto back in and zipped him up. Naruto smiled and reached behind him, petting Sasuke's hair and chuckling. "M'thanks, S'ke." Awkward. Awkward. Fucking, fucking awkward. "Yeah," Sasuke muttered, slowly tugging Naruto back into his bedroom. Just as they got out the door, Naruto suddenly slammed into Sasuke, pinning him to the wall. Sasuke opened his mouth to yell at him but the sternness in the other's eyes, which looked a tad less glassy than they'd been all night, even in the dark room, stopped him cold. Naruto leaned into him, and Sasuke turned his face away, getting ready to punch him off in anticipation of another belch attack. But Naruto simply continued to stare at him, and reached up to push one of Sasuke's bangs aside. "Y'know, she said…I got a crush on you." Sasuke quirked a brow, confused. "What? Who?" Naruto's lips parted, as if he was about to say something, then thought better of it and closed them. Instead, he grinned slowly, licked his lips, and mumbled, "Can't do you anyway. Dick won't fit," he raised one hand; middle finger held straight up in the air between them, "with that ice-pole up there," he finished. "Wh…." Sasuke's brows knitted, irritation written all over his handsome face as he smacked Naruto's hand down. "Shut up, you fucking loser, there's no pole in my ass," he whispered back harshly. Naruto chuckled. "S'okay," he assured, "I like you anyway." And Naruto moved in, making Sasuke go rigid as pressed a kiss to the very corner of his mouth. Dark eyes narrowed in uncertainty as Naruto breathed a curse and tried again, grabbing Sasuke's arm and tugging him in as he concentrated and closed his mouth over Sasuke's bottom lip, held for a moment, then let it go with a soft, wet sound. Sasuke's heart was hammering erratically in his chest as he grabbed Naruto's hips and pulled him in, close, tight. He opened his mouth as Naruto opened his, the ring of their lips touching as Naruto sighed into him, long and deep and wanting. It made Sasuke's bones ache, his lids fluttering while Naruto's blue eyes remained half-mooned and fixed solely on him. Sasuke couldn't even care that the air between them stank of beer, he could only dig his nails into Naruto's hips, his skin on fire as Naruto dragged his mouth over his again. Sasuke's lips folded over Naruto's for a moment, snagging in a breathy, almost-kiss before Naruto sighed and moved over, resting his forehead on the exposed skin over Sasuke's t-shirt collar. He sighed again, and maybe he was just tired, but Sasuke would swear it was in relief. "Thanks," Naruto murmured against his skin, then picked his head up and smiled at him. "Bed now," he fumbled for Sasuke's hand and jerked him forward. Sasuke stumbled with him. "I have my own-" "No Sas'ke!" Naruto looked back at him with narrowed eyes and a pout. He put his finger up to his lips. "Shhh," he instructed, and then collapsed on his bed, pulling Sasuke down with him. "Bed," he said again, this time through a louder-than-necessary yawn, and let one of his arms flop over Sasuke's chest. Sasuke exhaled and glared at him for a moment, then breathed in deeply and kicked off his shoes, turning to his roommate. "You're a moron." "S'you," Naruto mumbled back, eyes already closed. "Tch," Sasuke smirked and tucked his arm under his head, allowing Naruto to pull him in closer as his lids slipped shut as well.

I AM TOO LAZY TO SOMEHOW TRANSFER THIS THROUGH COMPUTERS

BUT I KNOW YOU CHECK YO DASH A LOT HERE YA GO, BRO <333333333333333333333333333

Domestication

Title: Domestication

Pairing: SasuNaruSasu

Rating: M

Warnings: foxhybrid!Naruto, sexual situations

Domestication

Furrowed, dark brows. Flared nostrils. Pink lips curled back over gnashed teeth. Honestly, Itachi swore his brother's face was responsible for a kitten's death somewhere, probably one that was playing with a puppy over the lap of a cancer-stricken child. "Must you be so sour?" he chided. Sasuke didn't even look at him; he was far too busy glaring murder at every other person in the room, thought its intensity was lessened a bit by the drink-induced flush on his cheeks. "Must you open your goddamn mouth?" "Grumpier than usual tonight." "Fuck you." Itachi brought his wine glass to his lips, the red liquid barely rippling within it as he swept his long hair back with his free hand. He stared listlessly at the other boy, questioning softly, "You're not even going to feign interest, for you brother?" Just to piss him off –and because he was already slightly drunk–Sasuke purposely grabbed at his own glass so the wine sloshed over the mouth. It didn't leave too noticeable of a stain, as the tablecloth was a rich crimson color, but it did cause a tic in Itachi's jaw, and that was enough to make Sasuke smirk. "My brother knew how much I hated these things when he dragged me along." "Then not even for yourself? People are going to think you're a tad unsociable." Sasuke snorted and looked around at the honey-colored walls draped in red velvet, the gaudy crystal white chandelier hanging still as death above them, the blur of lacey evening gowns and tailored suits that stood and glided and murmured so, so soft and polite that they were nothing but an annoying, persistent string of whispers in his head. "You obviously have me confused with some idiot who gives a damn what people think." Sasuke had never understood how he could have been born into this world of glamor, privilege, and class - he had always been so disgusted by it. Everything, everyone was so fake and greedy, and fought over the most frivolous and unnecessary things. He exhaled heavily through his nose and glanced at a woman across the room. Her hair was piled in pink braids on top of her head, and she was stroking her fingers through the hair of her pet seated by her side on the floor. Sasuke scrunched his nose at the creature. It was a female, pale and nude with nearly pearl-white eyes titled in complete adoration at her master. She looked every bit human as Sasuke did, were it not for the small furry ears atop her head that were pressed flat against it, and her long tail flitting behind her in such a way that made Sasuke assume she must be a cat-breed of some sort. The pink-haired woman turned away from conversing with her peers to look down at her pet, still running her fingers through dark-blue strands. The cat leaned up a bit, smiling gently as her clawed fingertips reached up and touched the very edge of the woman's lips. Sasuke snorted and looked away. That was another thing he'd never quite understood. Wealthy people's fascination with these "pets", showing them off and spoiling them, they just had a penchant for the exotic, he supposed. Regular dogs and hamsters and parrots just weren't good enough. Itachi called back on his attention, setting his glass down and folding his hands over his lap. "So, you're going to sit and pout." "I don't pout," Sasuke snipped, downing his glass and earning another disapproving glare for it. "Hm," Itachi reached for the wine bottle, gracefully pouring the liquid into the womb of his cup without spilling a single drop. "You act as if you have some better place to be, Sasuke, when more than likely you'd be sitting in that hovel you call a home." "I have better things to do at home." Itachi stopped pouring and sat back, looking at his brother through narrowed eyes. "Oh really? Such as?" Abruptly, Sasuke snatched the wine out of his brother's hands. He was almost upset that Itachi just let him, he had to admit that he half-wanted a fight at the moment. "Such as picking my fucking belly-button, because that is more appealing to me than being stuck in a golden room full of snobs buying beasts and you, lecturing me." He wasn't exactly smashed, but clearly the drinking was making him far more brash and hot-headed than he would ever allow himself to be, were he sober. He held the bottle up, knowing his behavior was nothing short of outrageous and truly, honestly, not giving one damn about it. "Right now, this is the only consolation for being here." He tilted his head back and took a swig. Itachi sighed quietly and first reached for Sasuke's glass, pulling it away as Sasuke blanched and lowered the bottle. "Give it ba-hey!" His fingers twitched when the bottle was plucked out of his hand as well, his brother handing both to a passing waiter. "You said 'belly-button', I think you've had enough," he explained calmly. Sasuke opened his mouth to argue but was quickly cut off as Itachi raised his hand and continued, "Yes, yes, you don't care what I think." He growled and closed his mouth, pressing his lips together in tight irritation. The lights suddenly dimmed throughout the room, not enough to blacken it but enough that the brightest and most attention-grabbing spot was the giant stage propped at its end. Itachi smiled slightly. "Please try to relax, Sasuke, and enjoy what they have to present. Perhaps something will pique your interest." "Hmph." The silky white curtains fluttered apart, dancing away from the center of the stage and revealing a rather eccentric man with silver hair and a black patch over his right eye, standing behind a podium placed at the far left. Kakashi. Sasuke scoffed, recalling having met him before at some other charity function. He wasn't so terrible but he certainly wasn't Sasuke's favorite person. He was a smartass. That was Sasuke's job. Asshole. It seemed that Kakashi hadn't noticed (or didn't care) that the curtains had pulled back, as he read three more pages of his little orange book before the rising questioning murmur of the crowd finally pushed him to close it with a sigh. He set it down and looked out at his audience, and even with only one visible eye, he clearly looked disinterested. "All right," he said, gripping both sides of the lectern. "There's no need for introductions. I know why you're here, and you know why you're here, so let's get started." A wave of soft, regal laughter rippled over the crowd, even Sasuke reluctantly chuckled a bit. Think of Kakashi what he may, there was no denying the man was entertaining. Kakashi signaled someone offstage without taking his gaze off the audience. "First up, we have a lovely male named Haku." On cue, a young boy stepped out from the side of the stage, stopping dead center and turning to the guests with a bare smile on his face. He was very slender with chocolate-brown eyes and long, dark hair that fell smoothly over creamy shoulders. A pair of antennae curved slightly out of his head, and the brilliant blue wings of a butterfly fluttered and shimmered nervously behind him, edged in black patterns that curved and stroked their path all the way down his sides. He seemed a bit flushed about his nudity, even though that was the common attire for pets. Kakashi waved his hand aimlessly, allowing the audience to "ooh" and "ahh" for a moment before clearing his throat to gather their attention. "Haku is of the Papilio breed, aged nineteen years and shows exceptional characteristics of loyalty and compassion. He is intelligent, non-confrontational, a quick learner, and excellent candidate for a companion." Sasuke snorted at the euphemism. "Bidding starts at 250,000 dollars." Before the man had even finished speaking, one woman's hand was up. Kakashi threw his own hands up with a small smile. "Wonderful! Do I hear two-sixty?" A man's hand. "Yes, you. With the face." Another. "Two-ninety!" "Glorious. Three-hundred?" "Three-twenty!" "Three-forty!" Hand after hand after hand. That butterfly walked off stage with a new master and nearly half-a-million dollars to show for it. Sasuke sighed as a female was brought out, her skin nearly ghost-white and small, round, black ears peeking out of her short-cropped hair. He glanced at Itachi, rolling his eyes to find his brother absolutely captivated by the stage, admiring every creature's loveliness to the minutest detail highlighted by the bright stage lights. Itachi had always had some odd fascination with beautiful things, studying them and peeling them away layer by layer with the sharp intensity of his dark eyes. Sasuke had always thought that was pretty fruity of him, but then again he sometimes tended to refer to Itachi as his brooding big sister. Mistakenly, of course. The charity was another $375,000 richer by the time panda-girl walked off. With another dejected sigh, Sasuke pressed his forehead into his palms, elbows placed firmly on the table just as he'd always been told not to do. His arms slowly slid further and further apart, almost in time with Kakashi's droning voice as he went on and on about each pet, giving their name, their breed, over-glorifying their already outstanding qualities. Eventually, Sasuke's head slipped into the crook of his arm so he was resting halfway on the table, counting the minutes until Itachi would finally tear his eyes off the stage to turn around and admonish him for it. But that didn't happen, and Kakashi kept talking, and they were surely over five million by now. The words began to blur to Sasuke's senses, his lids fluttering to fight off sleep, as they might as well have been the same one repeated over and over again. This pet was "beautiful", this one "graceful", but this one "resplendent." It was the jagged edge of gruff curses slicing through those words that snapped Sasuke's lids apart and made him spring up from his position. Collective gasps of horror and shock filled the room as the next pet was not summoned but practically dragged onto the stage by two fairly big and intimidating men. Kakashi raised one hand in explanation, the largest smile he'd had all night alight on his face, "This is Naruto. He's a fox or something. We bit off more than we can chew and are very eager to get rid of him." Sasuke's mouth parted in surprise as he stared at the creature and unconsciously leaned forward in his seat. He was a little more beast-like than the usual pets Sasuke had seen, his feet being the main difference; from the ankle down they were full-fleshed fur paws, a light orange that walked on padded and clawed brown toes. His eyes were also much more narrowed than Sasuke was used to seeing, and the most piercing shade of blue he'd ever seen on either human or animal. His lips were curled back in a snarl around sharp, white fangs, hands bound behind his back as the men kept a steady grip on his arms, and four ridiculously bushy tails writhed behind him as he wrenched his body every which way to try and get out of his constraints. Sasuke felt his mouth twitch as Naruto thrashed his head from side to side in frustration, the long, furry fox-ears on both sides of it flopping with his movements. Sasuke had never seen anything like him, he was fascinating. Kakashi tapped the podium. "As you can see, he also has quite a bit of a temper. Bidding starts at three-hundred dollars." Half the room erupted into laughter, while the other half simply scoffed. In here, that amount of money wasn't worth enough to blow your nose in. "I'm not some damn thing you can sell!" Naruto hollered, using the leverage of the men holding his arms to throw his lower body up in attempts to kick at Kakashi. Sasuke's reaction to this surprised even him; he didn't consider himself a pervert, and though he was cocky enough to know he had a certain prowess in the bedroom, his libido was so goddamn picky that he was hardly ever up for displaying those talents. But the way that creature thrashed, lean muscles flexing and straining beneath taut, tanned skin, the grunts and growls and curses flying like daggers out of that overly obnoxious mouth, made Sasuke's fingers curl and grip at the tablecloth, made his heart beat so loud and furious against his chest he swore it was trying to burst out of him to answer Naruto's damn howling. Nobody responded to the bid, and so Kakashi tried again, "Very well, how about one-hundred?" "He's quite appalling, isn't he," Itachi murmured, nose the slightest bit scrunched. Sasuke's lips twitched into a smirk. "He is." Still nobody placed their bid, because this was not a pet, not by society's standards anyway. Pets were elegant, pets were obedient, polite, delicate things to be pampered and adored. Somehow, they hadn't gotten to this one, somehow Naruto had managed to keep his beast, and Sasuke was enthralled by it. A pet was tamed and a waste of time and space, a beast was a challenge worth every drop of dime and sweat. Sasuke stood up, "Five-thousand!" Kakashi smacked his hand on the lectern. "Sold! To the lovely Sasuke Uchiha." Every single head in that room turned to him, even his brother had the courtesy to look a tad bit surprised. Kakashi chuckled while Naruto stood in open-mouthed shock before regaining his composure to sputter out, "Asshole! I'm worth way more than five-thousand!" That earned him a leather gag slapped over his mouth and tied around his face. Kakashi's head lolled to the side. "First you complain about being sold, and now you complain you're not being sold for enough." He waved his hand dismissively and Naruto was hefted up and offstage, muffled curses and kicking galore. Itachi raised a brow as his little brother sat back down, turning to him. "When I said something might pique your interest, I thought your interest would be more…conventional." "Itachi," Sasuke chuckled, "have I been nothing but conventional tonight?" A faint smirk tugged at Itachi's lips. "Yes, well, he seems to be quite a handful." "A handful yes, but I doubt he's as much trouble as the show he put up there."

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'Handful' had been such an understatement it was bordering on insulting, because Naruto didn't turn out to be a 'handful' so much as a raging hurricane that was constantly tearing through Sasuke's apartment. From the moment Sasuke brought him home on a rather expensive leash, Naruto was demanding his release and causing trouble whether or not Sasuke had his back turned. "I'm not some fucking 'pet!'" he hollered, kicking over Sasuke's coffee table and clawing feverishly at his collared leash. "What the hell is this shit made out of anyway?" He tugged and jerked and dug his claws into the collar but to no avail. Sasuke gritted his teeth and yanked the leash – hard – causing Naruto to topple over with a grunt, cursing as his knees hit the ground. And all hell broke loose. Naruto let out a primal cry and lunged at his 'master', tackling him to the linoleum floor and smashing two brutal punches into his pale face before Sasuke managed to jerk the leash hard enough to get him off. But he was barely able to scramble up before Naruto sprung for him again; snagging his teeth into Sasuke's shirt and tugging him back down with one harsh pull. Sasuke landed on top of him, cursed and grabbed for Naruto's wrists, pinning them to the floor while his shirt was quickly tearing between sharp fangs with an audible rip. "That's enough," he breathed, words dark and threatening but laced with such pure thrill that even he couldn't stop the smirk that bloomed over his lips. Naruto thrashed beneath him, Sasuke's shirt nearly in tatters by the time he finally let go with a loud, "Fuck you!" Mustering all his strength, he bucked once and threw his weight to the side, causing Sasuke to slip off of him so they were both on their sides, though he still had a firm grasp on Naruto's wrists. Sasuke grunted as Naruto pushed forward. His elbow hit the floor, right on the funny bone and his fingers spread out over one wrist as pain shred through his arm. "Christ!" Naruto grinned but Sasuke's other hand still had him by both his other wrist and the leash so all he could do was fumble to his knees and punch him again while trying to yank himself out of the grip. The pain exploded across Sasuke's face as it ebbed away in his arm, a gush of blood running down from his nose. Before Naruto could get another hit in, a rush of adrenaline shot through him and he wrenched ruthlessly at the leash, once again causing Naruto to fall over, his chin hitting the floor with a painful clink of teeth. This time, Sasuke managed to climb over his back and pin him down with all his weight, digging his knees as hard as he could into the backs of Naruto's thighs and holding his arms against the ground. Naruto growled and snarled, his furry feet slipping against the smooth floor as he tried to get up, his chin throbbing with a thin trickle of blood leaking down the corner of his mouth. He writhed and twisted and Sasuke struggled to keep him down. "Motherfucker," Naruto rasped, "get the hell off!" Sasuke could feel Naruto's tails brushing desperately over his backside, and he was becoming very distracted by the hard body rubbing and twisting against him from below. Sasuke had to get him to stop, he had to calm him down, this was too much and too raw and he couldn't even remember the last time he had bled. In an act of desperation, Sasuke jerked the leash back and propelled himself forward, clamping his teeth around one of Naruto's ears. That one bite made Naruto freeze up. His body went completely rigid beneath Sasuke, eyes wide and blue before narrowing with a soft moan as he relaxed against the floor. Sasuke raised a slow brow, teeth still digging hard into the fuzzy appendage. Experimentally, he let go, and Naruto immediately tensed up. "DON'T DO THAT!" he hollered. "FUCKING BAS-" Sasuke bit down again, harder this time, and Naruto shivered and groaned as his body became lax once more. "Bas..bast…" he trailed off with a quiet moan. Sasuke smirked around the ear in his mouth. Well, that's one way.

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The discovery of Naruto's weak point didn't make that much of a change, Naruto was still just as determined to get Sasuke to disown him. So instead of taking him on physically, Naruto had resorted to destroying his apartment and trying to make Sasuke's life a living hell. Sasuke would come out of the shower and see his shoes freshly filled with urine, come home from work to see his tables flipped over, his room raining feathers from shredded pillows, or walk into his study and find his work papers scattered and his chair sticky with a very curious white substance. This plan had severe flaws in it though. For one thing, Sasuke didn't really get angry at the fact that Naruto poured beer over his books or purposely clawed up his couch; every possession Naruto fucked up was easily replaced or cleaned up, and Sasuke would not get angry but instead do something that led to a second problem. The second problem was not so much a flaw to Naruto's plan as it was a complete backfire: every hostile, disobedient, destructive thing Naruto did didn't make Sasuke mad, it just made him incredibly fucking horny, and he would start making advances on Naruto. In fact this problem nearly canceled out the plan entirely, because those advances usually led to a fight anyway, which then led to the third and most plan-obliterating problem of all: The sex. And how much Naruto enjoyed the sex. Surprisingly enough, Naruto had been the one to push it that far first. He couldn't really help himself when he'd had Sasuke pinned to the floor of the study, his split lip and bloody nose dripping crimson dots that hit the corner of Sasuke's grinning mouth and ran down his pale cheek. The sight of his 'master' beneath him like that, still gripping that leash like a lifeline as the clothed hardness between his legs brushed and coaxed Naruto to life. Naruto's hind paws braced themselves, tails shifting curiously as his hips rocked forward of their own accord, and the gasp he'd earned made his heart go crazy. His brow had furrowed in frustration as he rolled his hips again and again, gritting his teeth at the fact that he hated this human for buying him yet couldn't seem to get enough of those gruff breaths and moans each thrust of his hips drew out. He'd stopped after a moment, craving but hesitant and unsure. But the harsh jerk of his leash and a demanding and breathy "do it" made his decision fairly quick. The uncertainty had crumbled into writhing bodies, clawing and pulling and panting so harshly it was like they had forgotten how to breathe. The leash was wrapped around Sasuke's fingers as he'd arched into Naruto with a brusque order for more – harder, faster, can't you do anything right and don't be such a goddamn pansy. And Naruto had snarled and covered that cocky mouth with his own, the tang of his blood smeared in a warm and breath-filled kiss as his hips bucked relentlessly against Sasuke. When he came it was with a violent shudder and spilling a groan down Sasuke's throat, his blue eyes slipping shut as he felt a smirk against his lips. Naruto had never really gotten over that situation or any situation after that. In fact he sometimes had to wonder if he was still doing these things not because he wanted Sasuke to kick him out, but because he wanted to get into those situations with him every time, on a daily basis, and it still wasn't fucking enough. It was a very, very persuading reason to want to stay. But like hell would he let Sasuke know that. Currently, Sasuke had just stepped in the door from work, and was staring at the shredded blue curtains hanging in tatters off Naruto's claws. He closed the door and set his briefcase down, reached up to loosen his tie and close his eyes. "I just bought those," he said. Naruto threw the curtain slivers to the side with a growl, the leash swinging lazily as Sasuke strolled up to him. "So just go buy some new ones." He kept his glare and grabbed harshly at Sasuke's arm when the man took his chin in his hand, brushing their lips. "I intend to." Sasuke's breath on his mouth pushed Naruto's heart into overdrive, his body recognizing and clearly welcoming what it knew was coming if the way his cock twitched was any indication. He felt the pressure of Sasuke's mouth on his and suddenly clenched his fist and drove it into Sasuke's stomach. Sasuke coughed and hunched over, quickly gripping the leash so when Naruto's shoulder rammed into his, the fox came tumbling down with him. Clawed fingers smashed Sasuke's head against the floor and his world swam as he blindly swung back, connecting his fist brutally against Naruto's jaw. It was difficult to maneuver himself as Sasuke was still in his suit from work while Naruto twisted over him, naked and only hindered by the leash. He wrapped his legs tightly around the other's waist and used the moment of surprise to knock out one of Naruto's arms from under him so he fell forward, close enough that Sasuke simply jerked up and caught his ear with his teeth. "Shit," Naruto hissed, his lids fluttering as his body melted and he struggled to keep himself from slumping over Sasuke. Sasuke chuckled, keeping his teeth tightly clamped as he pushed Naruto up with a grunt. He basically shoved him over the coffee table, orange ear pulled back by his teeth as he laid flush against him from behind. His legs were steeled over the backs of Naruto's knees, and he could feel the lazy brush of his soft tails play over the dark strands at the nape of his neck. When Sasuke was sure he'd be able to at least hold Naruto down, he let the ear flop back into place. Naruto immediately elbowed Sasuke's side as hard as he could but only got another grunt in response. "You're a fucking cheater," he growled. Sasuke smirked and reached up to flick the ear, making it twitch. "Heh, it's like you came with an 'off' switch." "Shut up!" Sasuke made a pensive sound, sending shivers racing down Naruto's spine as his forefinger toyed with the edge of the ear. "Hn, just as well, since there doesn't seem to be any other way to get you to calm down. Unless…" he trailed off, but his words were evident in the way his hips pushed forward, a hard bulge digging into the small of Naruto's back. A moan built up in in Naruto's chest but he forced it down. His ear was still fluttering pleasantly under the light touch, blue eyes striving to roll in pleasure but he used every bit of will power to force them to narrow instead. Naruto snorted and reached up, tugged the leash in and stretched his arm behind him, groping around until he grabbed and jerked at Sasuke's hair. "Why don't you get mad?" he grumbled. "I'm wrecking your shit." Sasuke remained silent for quite a while, simply breathing against the back of Naruto's blond head. It began to make the fox uncomfortable, so he growled softly and shifted underneath him to get his attention, feeling the smooth leather of his shoes graze against his hind paws. Without a word, Sasuke's hand slid forward to cup his throat, tilting Naruto's head back, and the fox couldn't hold in the groan this time as Sasuke's lips touched his ear, as his nose poked in to trace the curve of its edge. When Sasuke spoke, it was breathy and warm and ghosted over Naruto's ear in a way that made his bones ache and his blood run thick and slow as honey in his veins. "Every day I go to work, it's tedious direction. Every social event I'm dragged to is spiritless and predictable. Every time I visit my family, it's perfect order or the door." Naruto shuddered as Sasuke ground against him and nipped at the edge of his ear. "You're the only chaos in my life." His unleashed hand snaked down, palming Naruto's erection and earning a harsh tug at his hair. His fingers rubbed over the hard length, not with any finesse or strategy, just simple strokes that were enough to make Naruto's lids fall half-mast. "I didn't realize how empty it was before that." Naruto's other arm flew back, his cheek hitting the table as he panted between clenched teeth, gripping Sasuke's hair so hard that it hurt and clutching the pressed suit in his claws. "I'm not a pet," he grit, slim fingers smearing drips of pre-cum over his cock with each smooth, steady stroke. Sasuke smirked, recalling the sophisticated procession of pets at the auction, and how Naruto had devastated it with the sheer power of his presence. Naruto gasped as Sasuke suddenly twisted his hand roughly, a vicious tremor shredding through him when he whispered "You're not" and dragged his tongue up the inside of Naruto's long ear. That was far beyond what it took to have Naruto spurting jets of white beneath the table with a heavily satisfied groan, his sperm streaking the dark blue rug. As he panted softly in his own afterglow, Naruto was surprised to feel Sasuke's fingers working over the collar round his throat, until a snap was heard, and it thumped against the table and slid to the floor, leash and all. Naruto grabbed at his free throat curiously and glanced back at Sasuke through the corner of his eye, wincing slightly as the other finally got off his now sore knees. Sasuke made a face when he moved up, feeling a bit stuffier in the suit than earlier and noting that his boxers were a little too sticky for comfort. He gestured to the apartment entrance. "If you really want to leave, there's the door. I won't stop you." The intensity of Naruto's glare was hot on his back as he left to the bedroom. Naruto snorted and looked at the door, debating whether to actually leave simply because he was sure Sasuke knew he…wouldn't. As upset as he was that he had been bought and taken home like some piece of furniture, Naruto couldn't deny that living with Sasuke hadn't been what he expected at all. He was an asshole, yeah, and cocky and knew just how to push Naruto's buttons but he wasn't the same as all the other elitists that had been at that auction. Naruto could see that simply from the fact that he lived in this tiny apartment and couldn't care less what destruction Naruto caused to his material things. And aside from the leash, he'd never really treated Naruto like a pet was treated, displaying him like a trophy or coddling him for everything he did. If anything he treated him like a friend he just really liked to fight and have sex with and just have around, Naruto had even been the one to stubbornly refuse Sasuke's offer to get him some clothes, something that would have detracted him further from a "pet" status. Naruto huffed on the floor and sat back, his arms laying limply in front of him as he brought up his foot and scratched at the inside of his ear in thought, making himself quiver slightly. On top of all that, this admission of Sasuke's that Naruto was basically…the only good thing in his life made Naruto's gut warm up in a really oddly pleasant way that he didn't want to dwell upon too much. His paw slid down so the pink pads pressed against his whiskered cheek as he stared sternly at his semen stained on the rug. Plus, that bastard was just too goddamn pretty for his own good, and how was he supposed to be mad when Sasuke just let him fuck him and orgasm wherever he wanted to? "Fucker," the fox grumbled, turning his head slightly to lick at his paw pads before shaking out his ears and standing up. He ran his tongue over white fangs and made his way to the bedroom as well.

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Sasuke had made it clear night one that he didn't care where Naruto chose to sleep, but that his king bed was certainly big enough that he didn't need to go out and buy another one when they could both sleep in it and have enough space not to bother each other. His apartment was too small for that. Grumbling, the fox had taken him up on the bed. Naruto wouldn't say it to him, but he had liked their sleeping arrangement that night, and every night since. He didn't think Sasuke was aware of it, but he apparently had a thing for Naruto's tails. He always managed to slowly migrate his way over to Naruto's side in his sleep, shoving pillows away in favor of burying his face into the bushy tendrils curled around them. Sometimes he would even shove cold feet between Naruto's, and moan softly as the fur warmed them up. Naruto was okay with this, because with his mouth partly open and not in a smirk and his brow relaxed as he breathed quietly against Naruto's fur, he didn't look like so much of the cocky jerk he was when awake. Naruto liked to watch him, his eyes dilated in the dark as he rested one arm under his head and used the other to trace Sasuke's mouth with the tip of a claw or push his hair out of his face. The room was blue with moonlight as Naruto's gaze flickered over Sasuke beside him, lightly gripping a tail with one hand and resting his head on another. He grinned and moved a third one over his face, brushing its tip over a pale nose, and chuckled softly when it scrunched up and Sasuke's hand batted it away of its own accord. Naruto's grin fell to a small smile. He reached up and let the back of his hand flop against Sasuke's cheek in a playful retaliation. "Bastard."

and then i runawaystucked in the iscribs

shiitt

small kushi for practice hnnn i haven’t drawn in so long !___@

a mixmatch of pre-shippuuden/post-shippuuden NaruKibaNaru things

<U>

AND SINCE EVERYBODY CHOSE TODAY/YESTERDAY TO FEEL DOWN

HERE, GERBIL <3

SOME FOR YOU TOO 8(

BECAUSE YOU WILL PASS THAT TESTTT >:T <3<3<3<3<3<3