Wednesday, September 7, 2011

An England Baby Daddy -- Game Of Chess

Character: England

Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia

OC: Natalie, loves British accents

Inspiration: Wahh~ British accents, of course <3

// Prologue //

Loving Arthur Kirkland was like playing a game of chess: one false move and you’re out. It was like walking on an endless trail of glass, always worrying about moving gingerly. Sometimes, it even seemed like the disappointment of a rainy day, as frequent as the changing London atmosphere. (Which were all very depressing, of course.)

It never failed to amuse Natalia whenever she came to visit England, simply because being around him seemed to be so caustic. Oh, he was a very stable sort of gentleman with quite an interesting past, but his own mental sanity wasn’t what she was referring to.

Natalia felt like a willing pawn in Arthur’s game of chess. Whenever she was around him she felt the desire to help him in whatever way possible. She had a feeling that it had something do to with her infatuation with him, but it was all cut and dry, really.

Maybe to Arthur, Natalia was a few steps above a mere pawn – at least, she hoped she was – but it didn’t matter either way. Both of them were playing a dangerous game.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” he told her.

Ah. A universal threat that was supposed to dub your opponent into thinking that what they’re doing is wrong, when actually it is the exact opposite~! How fickle did he think she was?! Regardless of his obvious attempt at degrading her own judgment, Natalia moved her bishop and took his knight. Bahaha.

The look he sent her was slightly incredulous. He totally didn’t expect her to ignore his blatant – huh. The smirk that was winding up his lips looked absolutely delicious, but that wasn’t the only thing strange about the situation.

“You should have listened to me,” he gloated. His queen knocked her bishop down and he victoriously grabbed the fallen piece. Ohhh. She had forgotten about the queen’s moves. Stupid reverse psychology!

She glowered at him and pouted, not realizing that as she stared at the chess board brooding, Arthur was staring at her face. It was a shame she missed the look in his emerald eyes, because it was short lived but nonetheless very rewarding.

“Alright. Prepare to be beaten,” she warned, and moved her rook farther into the board. (Yes, she was quite aware that she’d used that warning almost every time she moved a piece. And yes, she was also aware that it only amused the man before her. Shut up.)

He was obviously taking her words to heart, because the smile that he gave her told her of his enjoyment. He allowed a soft chortle to escape his lips as he leaned back, eyes roving her face rather than the board. “I’m tired of this.” He tilted his head, eyes locking with hers and sending shivers catapulting through her eager body. “We should do something else.”

Natalia grinned, “But I was about to beat you!” But then, as he shrugged and began leaning back toward the chess game – no doubt to prove her wrong – she scoffed and pouted, “...Fine. Let’s do something else. Playing chess with you is such a hassle.”

He grinned at her and hummed, beginning to pick up the game. “But I bet you enjoy pretending to beat me every time we end our games short.” His grin widened at the scowl she sent him.

“Humph. I do, actually. Don’t take that happiness away from me,” she couldn’t deny that the grin he was sporting was making her heart beat every faster. The table between them was entirely too small.

He seemed to be thinking the same train of thought, because his eyes suddenly sparked fire. His grin turned slightly mischievous as he eyed her; his entire countenance shifting into something a little more dangerous. It was nothing short of riveting.

“You know, I think I have some other ideas of what we can do,” he said, voice taking on a suggestive tone. She shivered and smirked, leaning forward, “I’m sure whatever this idea is, I’ll be ready for it~”

Sigh. The trip to the bedroom never was short enough.

// How It Happened //

A harsh sigh left her lips as he pushed her to the wall. His hips ground fitfully into hers, erection making her sink ever deeper into bliss and passion. Her fingers tugged through his hair, drawing his mouth hard against hers in a dominant kiss that quickly fell into submission as his tongue roved her bottom lip.

When she opened her mouth for him, Natalia was met with fierce desire. His taste was dangerous and perfect. She moaned against him and wrapped her legs farther around his waist. In the back of her mind, she wondered if this was what heaven felt like. (The bliss was reaching catastrophic levels.) She moaned again.

When her back hit the mattress, Natalia’s mind blanked completely. Her movements were driven by one desire. Burning need tore at her, enforcing a passion that would have frightened her had it not been utterly returned.

Against her mouth, Arthur snarled. His desire for her was growing with every second. Every movement of their hips was making him crazy and wild. Every kiss of her soft lips had him losing sight of any reality that might have been there. The earth didn’t exist anymore; there was only the sky as they shot upwards, past clouds and into a heightened bliss that before seemed unattainable.

Clothes came flying off bodies. The heat increased as skin burned skin. Lower bodies ground fitfully together with restraints: the pledge within their eyes was plausible and obvious. They stared at each other for only a moment before their lips connected, and the immediately lost any thought that might have been.

As their bodies connected and became one, they circled upward into indescribable passion. Intense gazes connected: soon, it wasn’t just a physicality that kept them intertwined, but an emotional promise as well.

Their ragged breaths mingled as they drew closer to the edge. Hips snapping heatedly, they rose higher and higher, past any and all boundaries that they’d previously hit. Arthur threw his head back and let loose a moan that drove Natalia crazy. She arched her back, feeling release imminent with every thrust, and shut her eyes tightly. His fingers closed around her legs, lifting them to gain better access. He only got in a few pounding thrusts before the position went them overboard, jerking wildly and intrinsically against one another as they came.

Reality set in only moments after, but it didn’t stop the lovers from moving together. Arthur slowed his pace, bringing them back to earth peacefully as their lips worked passionately together. A satisfied emotion hung in the air.

“Mmm...” she thought about saying something, but the look in her eyes silenced her completely. There was no need for words. The connection of their bodies portrayed their thoughts perfectly.

She smiled and lifted her head to kiss him again, drawing him closer as she tightened her legs around him. She didn’t want to let him go just yet. In the back of her mind, Natalia decided that she was probably more than a mere pawn to Arthur. (If the love in his eyes had anything to do with it, anyway.)

// How You Told Him //

Arthur Kirkland would make a good father. He liked children and treated them with care and affection. (With the exception of Sealand, but that was an entirely different story.) Natalia was positive that he would be perfect for the job. And really, what other choice was there? She was pregnant with his kid, after all.

He paced the living room, hands grasped together and eyebrows furrowed with frustration. Natalia was sure that he’d walk a hole into the carpet, but she kept her mouth firmly shut. The apprehension in the air was astounding and not to be trifled with.

Mutters spilt from his mouth as he paced, all centered on his problems – America, France, Germany – and all filled with anxiety. The world was upon his shoulders and Natalia was only going to add to that weight. She swallowed thickly and kept her gaze trained to the ground.

He sure was making it hard for her. She had woken up with blazing determination, intent on telling him the news that she had coveted for the past week. She was unsure of how to say it. Every time she opened her mouth to, her mind jumped to conclusions. He would yell at her because he didn’t want a kid right now. He would scorn her and leave her to take care of the child herself. He would tell her that he didn’t need any more problems.

But no, she had realized when she’d awoken, Arthur wasn’t like that. He was kind and soft beneath his hardened outer layer. He would understand, because he was a part of this, too. (She hadn’t gotten pregnant by herself, damn it.)

Her determination had died down as soon as she saw him, though. Through breakfast, she had felt the tension in the air, caused primarily by her. They’d made it throughout the entirety of the day with said tension. It was probably confusing the poor man very much.

But then, maybe it wasn’t. He didn’t really looked confused at the moment. More like annoyed.

“Arthur,” she cut in, heart swelling with a realization. If she didn’t tell him now, he might find out in a different way. It was her obligation. Besides, she wanted him to know. But when he brought his eyes to meet hers, her willpower crumbled once more. She felt so fickle.

His brows furrowed even more, “What the bloody hell is the matter with you today, anyway? Don’t think I haven’t noticed – “ he stopped when he realized that there were tears brimming at the corners of her eyes. “...Natalia?”

She smiled a watery sort of smile and kept her eyes firmly away from his. This definitely wasn’t the way she wanted to tell him. Sobbing it to him lost some of its heartwarming quality. “...I’m alright. It’s just...I...” she glanced up at him, but did not meet his worried gaze. He was quick to slid into the spot beside her. When her hand rested within his, she felt better.

He didn’t have to ask her what was wrong, because his eyes said everything. He reached up to brush away her tears and she sighed. As long as she didn’t look at him, she would be ok. Determination flared within her once more. “I’m...pregnant...” Huh. Well, it hadn’t been as strong as she’d wanted it to be, but at least she got it out.

His silence worried her. When she finally managed to glance up at him, he looked shocked. There was a happy sort of glitter within his emerald eyes, though, that set her nervousness aside. How silly she was! His lips curved into a tiny smile, meant especially for her, and he chuckled lowly.

As he leaned in to kiss her, Natalia realized that she hadn’t had anything to be worried about in the first place. He understood perfectly fine. Yes, she mused, blissfully shutting her eyes, he would make a very good father.

// Epilogue //


She glowered at him, brows furrowing in frustration as she peered up into emerald eyes. Once – just once! – she wished he’d let her win. It’d make her feel at least a little better about her losing streak.

He smirked victoriously and leaned back in his seat. In the other room, a cry erupted, cutting off whatever he was going to say. Immediately, his eyes flickered to the doorway and he watched his wife rise from her defeat to check on their two month old daughter.

His eyes softened as soon as she came back, carrying the tiny bundle in her arms as she hushed it and bounced the babe to quiet her. It didn’t work: the cries only got worse.

Arthur chuckled and she threw him an exasperated look. Silently, he held out his arms, taking the bundle as it was offered to him. Like magic – Natalia raised a brow suspiciously at the thought – the babe was silenced. She snuggled up to her father’s chest and let out a large yawn. A moment later, tiny eyes were closing of their own accord and sleep was imminent in the air.

“Huh,” Natalia sat down beside her husband, watching her child sleep in his arms. She reached out to brush at the baby hair upon her head, “I don’t know how you do it.”

He sent her an amused smirk and leaned back, closing his eyes. For a moment, Natalia just sat there, watching the father and daughter’s mirrored actions. And then she giggled, curled up, and laid her head to his shoulders.

His head immediately came to rest upon hers. Silence reigned in the room, saturated with peace. This was what Natalia wanted out of life. Complete and utter happiness in the form of a husband and child. Perfection.

She felt herself falling into the sweet folds of sleep. Her head was nodding against Arthur’s shoulder, her mind closing down with the promise of rest. And then...a low chuckle reverberated Arthur’s chest. He kissed the top of her head. Into her ear he whispered, “I guess you’re sick of playing chess, hmm?”

Her expression, though tired, managed to contort into disgust. He chuckled again at the sight and said no more. Peace welled up again.

In the back of her mind, Natalia realized that she really wasn’t a pawn anymore. In fact, within Arthur’s arms, she felt more like a queen.


A Hidan Baby Daddy -- Poison Ivy

Character: Hidan

Fandom: Naruto

OC: Sayuri Komichi

Inspiration: Deidara and his evil, evil ways~  ;3

// Prologue //

Hidan was like poison ivy: he was scratchy and never seemed to go away, especially when Sayuri was concerned. Anytime she was feeling down and out he was always there to make her feel worse. In fact, any time she was feeling anything, he always seemed to be around. (And of course, upset her in some manner. Because that’s what poison ivy did, you know.)

Sayuri didn’t particularly enjoy Hidan’s company for several reasons. First of all, he swore a lot and that made her uptight and annoyed. Second, he usually brought his stupid false God into every other conversation, and that left her even more uptight and annoyed. Thirdly, and perhaps the worst of all, he always seemed to find time out of his extremely busy schedule to harass her even more. It was infuriating.

The tension between the two was reaching catastrophic levels, and the other Akatsuki weren’t really blind. Every time Sayuri and Hidan were around each other, said tension would flicker into roaring flames. As though someone had just poured copious amounts of lighter fluid on it. It was seriously starting to affect the other members. Especially Kakuzu.

“Stupid fuckers,” Kakuzu muttered, glaring daggers at the arguing duo across the room. Their faces were so close together that it almost looked like they were about to make out...except that they were also yelling obscenities at each other, which sort of drew all form of romance away. (As though Hidan would fall for some stupid mushy romance anyhow.)

Deidara grunted from beside him. His artist’s zen had long since been interrupted by the argument. Ever since Sayuri had began screaming at the top of her lungs – and Hidan wasn’t far behind her in terms of volume – Deidara had decided that any artwork he was currently working on was pointless. It would probably just turn up as a jumbled, contrasting piece of crap anyway. Like Hidan and Sayuri’s attitudes.

“I think, un, that we should do something about them, yeah.” Cerulean eyes twisted up as an idea began forming. Lips crawling up into a snarling smirk, Deidara nodded, “And I think I have just the idea...” Kakuzu could only raise a brow. Leave it to the blonde to create an even more caustic situation than right now. (But he admitted that it would be interesting. Anything that had to do with Hidan’s dignity being warped would be interesting, and Deidara was evil enough to do just that.)

// How It Happened //

Sayuri hadn’t realized how annoyed the other Akatsuki was with Hidan and her until she was faced with Deidara’s evil aura. He’d walked up to her with that glint in his blue eyes – the one that screamed I-wanna-see-you-blown-to-pieces, forced a blindfold over her when she was caught off guard, and threw her into a dark room before shutting the door on her face. When she heard the door lock, she knew she was a goner. But when she heard the certain grumbling of her hated arch nemesis, she knew she wasn’t going to go down alone. Damn.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Hidan glared, silver eyes narrowing into spiteful slits. Sayuri felt her anger flare at the sight of his detestable expression. She stepped over the blindfold she’d long since tore away and spat, “Oh great. What’d you do to piss Deidara off this time?!”

She almost cursed herself for instigating him. Almost. He tore up from his seat and stalked toward her, deadly eyes set intensely to hers. “Shut the fuck up, bitch. We all know that Deidara is a stupid fucker. I didn’t do shit.”

Sayuri rolled her eyes at his language. She snarled at him and was about to say something else when she suddenly stopped. When Hidan was standing there, the sliver of light from beneath the door all but lit up his silver appearance. He almost looked... “What the hell are you staring at?”

She shook her head, throwing her expression back into a hateful glare. Of course Hidan didn’t look good. He never looked good. He didn’t look handsome at all; not from the moment she first saw him till now. “You make me sick.”

Her words caused an interesting reaction. He let out a fierce growl that sent shivers up and down her spine and sauntered toward her, throwing her against the wall. His weight on her was heavy and dominant, just like the twist of his lips as he glowered down at her. He was inches away, wavering above her face as his eyes scourged hers. Why did her lips suddenly feel so dry? As though reading her mind, he flicked his gaze to stare at her mouth before snarling and tearing his eyes back.

His lips contorted into a scowl. When he spoke, his voice had a strange twang to it that screamed danger and something more. “I make you sick, hmm? I wonder what else I can make you feel.” For a moment, his eyes continued to burn into hers, deadly mirth alighting his gaze. But then, the connection was broken as his mouth crashed onto hers, ravishing completely and not allowing her to keep up.

Not that she wanted to. She struggled, of course, because this was Hidan, and she hated him. She fought him, throwing all her scorn into pushing him away. But as she did, he pulled her closer, knocking her against the wall, scourging her lips more roughly with his, bruising her with dominating fingers as he touched her. It was invigorating, unnerving, because as she battled with him she could feel herself losing, sinking down into the pit of black passion that he instilled within her veins.

She groaned against his mouth when he harshly dragged his fingers down her sides, trailing fire past clothing and skin. He pushed her brutally against the wall as he lead her through that fire, tainting her mind with the need to bathe in the flames. Every touch, every movement was aching passion.

Somehow, Sayuri felt thankful. All of her angst and aggravation was spilling out into her movements. She couldn’t help but kiss him back now, because there was only one thing that drove her body against his, and that was revenge and the dark need for satiation. Hidan could give her both those things.

His hands tugged her lower body against his, exciting her with the prospect residing within fabric restraints. Their bodies melded together, fitting perfectly in a way that astounded her. Emotions drained away. There was only the feel of him and her, shut within a darkened room with no other form of entertainment. Desperation clung to them; cloth fell away; anger was sated with desire.

Sayuri hadn’t realized how sick her own mind was until Hidan had trapped her high to the wall, breaching her as no other man had. The brusque arousal of being dominated by him was mind blowing and frightening. Every thrust of their hips sent her further into brash enjoyment; every bite of his teeth made her shiver in scary satisfaction.

She grasped at him, his hair, his shoulders, feeling as though she were about to fall away. He snapped against her fitfully, growled pleasurable obscenities to her half coherent mind, and forced her closer and closer to release.

It was a fierce end for them both. As his hot seed spilt into her, he bit down on her shoulder. Blood trailed down her pale skin, melding against his lips and giving him a barbaric appearance. When he raised to head to stare at her, eyes narrowed in harsh reality, Sayuri lost herself. He sent her into a whirlpool of senseless joy. She jerked against him as though it was the only thing she knew how to do.

As her head hit the wall behind her and her chest heaved, Sayuri was strangely thankful for Deidara’s sick sense of humor. Being stuck in a locked room with Hidan was oddly fulfilling.

// How You Told Him //

Hidan stared at her, fury welling up within his darkened eyes. The room was brimmed with tension, anger, and frustration, but Sayuri was holding herself quite well. She raised a brow at him, as though daring to say what was obviously on his mind. He took that dare, of course, because he was Hidan, and always looked for ways to annoy the hell out of her.

“You’re fucking pregnant? Get rid of the damned thing.”

She rolled her eyes. Luckily, his biting words didn’t scar her in the least. She had been ready for such a vehement attack. She knew him too well, and was unsurprised at his reaction. His fury was increasing with every second of her obvious indifference.

“It’s not my fault, you sick prick,” she told him, not really anger but rather calculating and brewing. Hidan hated it when she brooded. “You’re the one that came onto me.”

He ground his teeth together and full out glared at her. His hands clenched into pissed off fists. Danger shrouded his figure, but still Sayuri did not budge from her place on the couch. She didn’t seem at all saddened by his lack of romance upon hearing the life changing news. She looked resigned and uncaring about how he acted, and that only infuriated him even more.

“Bitch,” he spat, stalking forward, “it’s not my fucking fault either. You had to give me those eyes – “ and then he shut up, as though he had gone too far. (From the smirk that was beginning to form upon her lips, he reckoned that he had.) He glared harder.

“Well, whatever you decide to do,” she drawled, peering up at him, “let me know. It’d be nice if you didn’t act bipolar during your decision.” She shivered, as though annunciating her words.

Hidan growled, pushing her back to the couch as she tried to stand. He wasn’t letting her disappear just yet, and it the satisfaction dwelling within her eyes had anything to say on the matter, she didn’t mind his dominance. He smirked a brutal smirk and leaned in to capture her lips.

He wasn’t good with words. In fact, he wasn’t really good with anything that hinted at humanity, but as his mouth crashed upon hers, Sayuri felt dangerous pleasure rolling off of him. At least he hadn’t killed her yet, she mused as she pulled him closer. That, at least, was a good sign.

// Epilogue //

Hidan looked...almost sane. It was oddly unnerving to see him with a baby, as though he weren’t a cold blooded killer. It was also kinda of fulfilling. Sayuri grinned, and he threw her an annoyed glare.

“Don’t worry,” she told him, pointedly looking away from the image now that she’d been caught, “You look cute.”

That didn’t seem to help whatsoever. With a fierce growl, Hidan forced the bundle into her arms. She grasped her child tightly and humphed, but couldn’t deny the endearing smile from curving up her lips.

“God damn it, woman,” he spat, looking everywhere but her and his kid, “Stop smiling -”

Sayuri knew for sure that he was about to swear, so she cut him off before he could. Holding her child close to her chest, she told him indifferently, “Don’t even think about cursing in front of our baby. That’s one of the things that’s gonna have to change.”

Hidan’s eye twitched. He certainly didn’t miss that his swearing was only ‘one’ of the things that needed changing, and he definitely didn’t want to know about the others. (Hell, everything about him was evil reincarnated.) He grumbled, crossing his arms as they stepped closer to the base. What would the other Akatsuki members have to say about this? He didn’t want to act like a fucking dad in front of them all. He glared at Sayuri. He didn’t want to be subjected to anything embarrassing, and with that kid around there would no doubt be many of said moments.

But then, he watched as her lips formed a strangely peaceful smile, and his breath was utterly knocked away. In the back of his mind, Hidan wondered when he’d gotten so sensitive...and then frowned deeply.

Screw it. Who the fuck cared about Deidara or Kisame and Kakuzu?! If they did anything degrading to him – or, he snarled, his God damned woman and kid – he’d make sure they paid.

Beside him, Sayuri merely smirked. Screw her, too, he scorned. (He decided to actually have to take that into consideration come nightfall~)


Sunday, September 4, 2011

A Dark Mousy Baby Daddy -- None The Richer

Character: Dark Mousy

Fandom: D.N. Angel

OC: Aeria Miazaki

Inspiration: Sixpence None the Richer albums~

// Prologue //

Dark Mousy was a thief, and therefore did things of his own accord. He played by his own rules and, in the absence of said rules, made up his own. He didn’t look to others to guide him, because he didn’t need them. He did things on his own, and that’s how he liked it.

Which was why, one night during midnight, when he found a particularly nice looking house that reeked of valuables, he didn’t bother to ask anyone if he should break into it. He just did. Because he was Dark Mousy, renown thief who played his own game.

It wasn’t as though he often broke into random houses. Usually, he had a schedule to follow. (Or, at the very least, a mental list of well known residences.) The reason he set his sights on this home, Dark didn’t know. But once he got inside he decided that it was definitely the right choice. Gut feelings usually were.

After taking one look around the sitting room, Dark immediately caught sight of several lovely, priceless artifacts that would add a nice weight to his wallet. (And was that gold...?) What a good choice, he mused, and darted farther into the house.

His footfalls were transparent. He moved like a ghost through the rooms, taking only what he thought would be worth his while and leaving everything else behind. By the time he had gotten to the fifth sitting room, the inner pockets of his leather jacket were full.

He was about to make his getaway when he noticed a striking portrait above the fireplace. The moonlight shafted over it, making the frame glow with faint traces of gold leaf. The portrait was of an older man with stern brown eyes. His countenance reeked of maturity and age.

“That’s my father,” a sudden voice said, and Dark had to stifle his startled gasp as he flung around. The girl was stood by the threshold didn’t seem surprised to see him. In fact, she looked oddly resigned to the fact that he was stealing her belongings. It was as though she didn’t want them anyway. He watched her shrug and step into the moonlight.

Immediately, Dark was hit by a single realization. He had not seen such a beautiful face in a very, very long time. The peaceful way which her features were settled made a strange emotion creep through him.

“When he wakes up, he’ll probably be really angry with you.” She said it as though she was proud of him! What a weird situation he had gotten himself into... She chortled softly at his expression, “Don’t worry. I won’t tell. It’ll be out little secret?” She put a finger to her delicious looking lips and winked. The mystery surrounding her increased.

He hummed, stepping closer to her. His composure was finally returning to him. In a smooth voice, he wondered, “What’s your name?”

She grinned, and it unsettled him a bit. Instead of answering him, the young woman shrugged again. “Will you be coming back tomorrow night, Dark?”

Before he could get an answer in, she gave him a little wave and began walking away. But before she was completely out of the door, she glanced back at him, mirth dancing in her eyes, “Oh, and I recommend you check the third parlor. There’s an especially pricey piece of artwork hanging on the left wall.”

Dark raised a brow. Huh. Maybe he would come back tomorrow night. After all, if there was one thing Dark loved more than money, it was a good mystery.

// How It Happened //

Months fly by fast when you’re in love. Or so that’s what they say. It hadn’t felt like a long time, but as Dark glanced up at her face as they sat together on the roof, he realized that it was. Almost a year had passed since their first, unconventional meeting. A strange emotion welled up inside of him at the thought.

As they sat there, he realized other things, as well. Her features were highlighted to perfection as the moonlight hit them. She had always looked the best in the moonlight, he decided, and brushed a finger over her cheek softly. When she turned to glance at him, question in her eyes, he smirked. It seemed as though she had grown more and more beautiful as every day passed. Their midnight meetings showed him that much, at least.

Said meeting had been going on since the week after they first met each other. Dark couldn’t deny that he had been strangely attracted to her the moment he laid his eyes upon her. Everything about her was a mystery to him, and even months afterward it was difficult to figure her out completely. She tossed him a playful smile and murmured, “What are you staring at?”

Her voice ghosted over the wind as she uttered her words. It enforced a peaceful sort of sensation to reside within him. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the roof, humming. “Nothing terribly exciting.” They both knew he was lying.

She chortled and leaned forward, suddenly straddling his hips. The random move made him open his eyes to stare at her. She looked absolutely beautiful sitting on him like that. It almost felt as though she were his – utterly his – and that made him feel extremely good. She leaned down to press her lips lightly against his. In a soft voice, she whispered, “I think I know how to make it more interesting.”

Ah. Damn. There was no possible way to deny her, and she knew it. Their passion existed only during the nighttime hours, when everyone else lay asleep. It was unquenchable fire, coursing through veins like no other emotion had, and it stole them deeply into a dreamland that left them riveting with indescribable satisfaction.

His hands reached up to press against her hips, digging them deeply against his and making her feel exactly what she was doing to him. The realization made a sexy smile curl over her lips as she gazed down into his violet pupils. She looked like a panther as she stalked forward, lips meeting his delicately before darting away to kiss other areas of his burning flesh. She teased his neck, biting gently as her fingers loosened his leather shirt. As it fell away, Aeria was astounded by the beauty that moonlight can illuminate. His chest was pale and Godly, and it took all her self control not to loose herself against every smooth crevice.

Her fingers ghosted over muscle, eyes locked with his as she reached the edge of his pants. He didn’t seem particularly nervous; in fact, he seemed more relaxed than ever as he stared right back, gaze burning desire within her. Gingerly, she unbuckled his leather pants and slid them off his hips.

Before they could come completely off, however, Dark stopped her. His eyes were fiery with want now, and he regarded her with a passion that left her blind. His hands slid under her shirt, trailing up her sides and bringing her slowly down to his lips. As they kissed, more cloth disappeared.

Falling into passion was always a rewarding experience, especially when it was with someone like her. Aeria was left utterly breathless as the final piece of clothing came off. Their bodies melded together, flesh upon flesh, and in apparent arousal they became one.

Love making was intense when it was done during the darkened hours of the night. The moonlight washed over them, sinking between every dip and curve and giving each lover an otherworldly quality. Breaths intermingled as their lips brushed against each other, gently and lovingly. They left the desperation to their lower bodies, which jerked and rolled with pleasurable intensity.

His eyes never left hers throughout their intercourse. His hands, secured upon her waist, guided her around him as his hips bucked to meet hers. Every jostled thrust; every invigorating shove had each of them sinking farther into bliss.

Release was like a haven they fell into systematically. Together, pushing blindly against physical restraints, they experienced sated passion as they collapsed upon each other. Aeria laid her head to his chest, kissing his burning skin as his arms came around to hold her close. Their thrusts slowed, and when they opened their eyes they were back on the roof beneath the moonlight. Reality resurfaced.

Said reality did the same thing a few weeks later.

// How You Told Him //

The night breeze shifted over two solitary figures as they sat together outside. The moonlight was waning thin – a small crescent shape in the sky – and it seemed to contribute to the strange awkwardness between the thief and the woman.

He glanced at her, wondering if he had done something wrong. Was their passion wasted? Did it disappear when he wasn’t around? He had been absent during the past week due to a heist and had only just returned that morning. Did she realize, perhaps, that during his disappearance her life had been easier? She hadn’t had to sneak around behind her parents backs, or lie to her friends about the reason for her sleepiness during the day. Perhaps she was regretting that she had met him at all.

He was about to speak – to tell her that he didn’t want this passion to end, because seeing her was the one thing he looked forward to, and that falling into passion with her was the one thing that made him feel human – when she suddenly moved. He darted his eyes to met hers, and was surprised to find that welling up behind her dark purple eyes was a wetness that seemed like tears. She was crying.

His heart jerked in his chest. He had never seen her cry. It surprised him to think that seeing her tears made him hurt. She opened her mouth a few times and then closed it, seemingly unable to say what it was on her mind.

He gently put a hand on hers, silently asking what the matter was, and watched as her cheeks were wetted by emotion. Finally, she spoke, but her voice did not hold her normally mysterious air. Instead, it was heavy. “I didn’t think this would happen, you know. You must hate me.” Another tear. “I don’t want to make you think that you have to stay with me, because I know your job wouldn’t allow it! And you probably don’t want to anyway – “

Oh. Was that what this was about? Not knowing just how deep the situation was, Dark frowned and murmured, “Why would you think that? Of course I want to stay with you – “

She shook her head. Her eyes were intense when she lifted them up to stare at him, and for a moment, it took his breath away. “...No. You don’t understand. You – I mean, I – you see...I just...” He watched with barely hidden anxiety as she took a deep breath. She shut her eyes tightly. “I’m pregnant.”

His eyes widened for a split second, but managed to control his shock by the time her eyes opened and she peered up at him. Huh. For a moment, he imagined what life might be like with her and a child. He liked what he saw. Tilting his head, he darted his eyes back to hers. A suave smirk curved up his lips. “Is that all? Why on earth are you so worried about that?” And then a moment later, “I suppose we should get married, hmm? Seal the deal?” He would have laughed at her incredulous expression, but decided that now wasn’t the moment. Instead, his smirk morphed into a pleased smile. He leaned down to kiss her. Seal the deal, indeed. Aeria was only too happy to do just that.

// Epilogue //

Dark Mousy stole many things in the course of his life. Grand Larceny hung on his shoulders. He should have been caught ages ago, really, but well...he was Dark Mousy, and he never got caught.

Erm...except maybe this once. Aeria slapped his hand and it quickly retreated from the cookie sheet. She sent him a glower, “Don’t eat the cookies, Dark. It’s almost dinner time.” He sent her an expression that mirrored said glower.

Dark leaned against the counter as he watched Aeria get back to work. She’d been in the kitchen all day, ever since early afternoon, and the counters were full of baked goods and other meals that would no doubt last them a few weeks. She didn’t much like cooking, so she usually picked out a day and dedicated the entirety of it to getting meals ready. Though Dark didn’t enjoy her spending so much time there, there was one good thing about the situation: when she wore that white frilly apron, she looked damned sexy.

His violet eyes trailed down her delicious body, memorizing the already memorized curves of her hips, chest, and waist. She looked about as edible as the cookies she had just finished making...maybe even more so, he mused.

He was about to stalk forward to have a little taste when the hurried sound of tiny footsteps rushed into the kitchen, and his daughter dove onto Aeira’s leg. She stumbled a bit at the sudden weight, but caught herself on the counter. Dark couldn’t stop the chuckle that swept through him. (He was rewarded with one of Aeria’s looks before she turned to deal with their hyper active daughter.)

“Momma, I want a cookie!” Dark chuckled again. He was about to speak up and say the same thing, but Aeria cut him off.

She swooped down to pick up the three year old and shook her head, “Dinner’s nearly ready. You can have one for dessert.” The small child was immediately silenced by the promise and nodded. Aeria gave her a tiny kiss before setting her back down. A moment later, their daughter was running back into the living room.

As soon as she was gone, Dark smirked and walked behind his lover. His arms caged her to the counter, and as he towered over her, he felt her shiver against his broad chest. A low chortle reverberated through him.

“I don’t think I can wait for my dessert,” he murmured into her ear, and gently bit down on the soft globe of flesh. She keened against him, lips parting intimately. Dark was suddenly filled with the desire to turn her around and take her mouth with his.

He leaned in, kissing her jaw and winding his arms around her slim waist. There was only one intention on his mind, and that was to –

“Momma? Daddy?” ...he softly cursed as their daughter once again made herself known. Aeria hummed a bit, trying to rid the lust from her voice and body. When she next spoke, she seemed to have done a good job of disguising it, “Dinner’s nearly ready, sweetie. Why don’t you help momma set the table?”

And just like that, Aeria slipped from her husband’s arms and began getting plates and napkins ready. Dark mumbled another curse and leaned against the counter again. As he watched his wife assist their daughter, he let his discouragement show on his face.

As well. He’d always have time to steal her away later that night. (After all, he was Dark Mousy, renown their who didn’t just take physical valuables~)


An Iruka Umino Baby Daddy -- Robin

Character: Iruka Umino

Fandom: Naruto

OC: Amaya Kanachia

Inspiration: Their wedding night :3

// Prologue //

There was something undeniably beautiful about Konoha during spring. The leaves once again flourished into buds and blossoms, and the sunlight that shined down on the village seemed fresh. A soft breeze picked up and rustled some early leaves that clung to their branches. A chilly morning air was apparent around her, but Amaya only reveled in the peace and hurried down the path.

If there was one thing she adored, it was meeting with her lover for a quick breakfast before parting ways again. She knew that his classes had already started, but he always made time in between his third and fourth class to come see her. Usually, he’d walk the short distance to her school, where she worked as a teacher to non-ninja children. But today Iruka had asked her out to the local coffee shop. It was a refreshing change.

When she stepped inside, Amaya was immediately met with the sweet smell of baking bread and pastry icing. A quiet smile past over her lips as she looked around. He was not there yet, so she seated herself by the window and got comfortable in her seat.

After sitting there for five minutes, Amaya was beginning to get frustrated. Iruka would never stand her up, so there must have been something going on at the ninja academy. Her tea was already half gone and was getting cold rapidly. The warm pastry she had ordered for him was also getting cold, and sat on its delicate plate as though mocking her. No one else was alone, she noticed when she gazed around the shop. No one else was saving a cold pastry for their absent boyfriend.

It shouldn’t have bothered her, and she realized that as soon as the door jingled open and Iruka came hurrying into the coffee shop. Immediately her stress was relieved. She looked him over as he caught sight of her.

He looked flustered and red in the face, which was strange. Amaya knew how strong he was as a ninja, and a little running would never make him this tired. Her forehead creased as he pulled out his seat and collapsed into it. He was either angry and hiding it well, or embarrassed...

He smiled at her, and immediately she felt a similar smile gracing her own lips. She pushed his pastry toward him and, giggling, murmured, “You’re late. I hope you like cinnamon rolls.”

He sent her a thankful look, “You know I do. And yes, I’m sorry about that.” He was quick to take a bit of the roll.

Amaya tilted her head. He was hiding something. It was painfully obvious, and she had known him for too long. She smirked and turned to her teacup, taking a sip and waiting for what was no doubt coming.

“Well? Aren’t you going to ask me why I was late?” he asked, suddenly grinning a wonderful, large smile. It nearly took her breath away.

She hummed and decided to humor him. They still had half an hour before their break ended, anyway, “Why were you late?”

If it were possible, his smile got even larger as she posed the question. He raised a finger and stuffed his hand into his pocket. Her confusion raised tenfold. What he pulled out was not something that she expected in the least. A small velvet box was gently pushed toward her on the glass table.

If there was any doubt in Amaya’s mind as to what was inside, it was dispelled by the huge grin on his face. He didn’t look nervous, but then again he didn’t really have a reason to. They had already spoken about this before...this action was just the beginning of what they knew they both wanted...

But it still called for some major emotional breakdowns. Her eyes welled up with happy tears as she opened the box. The ring that lay within was just what she had dreamt of. Glancing back up at Iruka’s gleaming eyes, Amaya let out a choked laugh and stood up from the table. Their lips met in a soft dance. They were so immersed in each other that the smiling gazes of the other coffee shop customers passed right by them.

“You’re wonderful,” she told him as he slid the ring onto her finger. Another chortling laugh spilled from her lips, “Absolutely wonderful~”

He only chuckled and nodded, “Only for you.” She had a good feeling about this~

// How It Happened //

The air was heavy with apprehension by the time Iruka and Amaya reached their destination. It was a crisp, cool evening. The sun was just making its descent over the horizon, and the spring atmosphere was fresh and inviting. However, neither were thinking about the scenery. There was only one thing going through their minds.

She felt him glance at her – a soft, loving sort of gaze – as she stepped up to the counter. The hotel clerk immediately put on a generic smile which grew more and more sincere as Amaya explained their reason for being there. As the woman handed them their key, her spectacled eyes flashed down to their intertwined hands. Two golden rings glittered up at her.

The trip upstairs grew more painstaking with every step. Their breath hung in the air as they drew closer to their door. Excitement, relief, and nervousness perforated their bodies.

Before Amaya could insert the key into their discovered room, Iruka stopped her. He gripped her wrist in a gentle hold that mirrored every other emotion lingered within his eyes. His breath floated over her face as she turned questionably to him. No words were exchanged, because none were needed. It was just him and her, and the love that so obviously surrounded them.

His lips covered hers in a sweet kiss, as though trying to portray comfort. He gingerly pushed her back against the door and secured his arms around her. Slowly, Iruka ran his tongue along her bottom lip.

It was a very sentimental moment for the two. They were about to enter a room and become one for the first time as a married couple. As Amaya opened her eyes to stare into Iruka’s – her husband, she realized with a grin – she found that only the excitement and relief were now the only emotions running through her. The familiarity in his eyes, couple with the sense of romance within his smile made all the nervousness disappear. Why would she be nervous, when she knew that this would only cement their love ever deeper?

She leaned up to press her lips to his once more before turning around, fumbling with the door, and opening it. The excitement heightened at the sight of the large bed, pushed up against the far wall.

Had her thoughts not been completely focused on that bed, she would have noticed the other aspects of the room. She would have seen the dainty white curtains that were pulled over dark glass, or the comfortable setting that the darkened teal walls suggested. Her eyes did flicker toward the couch and chairs situated near an electric fireplace, but as Iruka’s arms wove around her from behind, her mind was forced back to the moment...and the bed.

It was like a towering promise. The sheets were beige and looked insanely refreshing. The multiple pillows made it seem like a cloud. She turned her head to glance behind her, locked eyes with her new husband, and sent him a large smile. He hummed and kissed her neck. The door was pushed closed a moment later.

Iruka’s lips felt like satin against her skin. They ghosted over her neck and up her jaw, leaving a tingling sensation everywhere. His hands scourged over her as well, tugging breezily at the dress she had long since changed into. The fabric fell quickly to the floor.

The cursed nervousness was threatening to return, wavering over her persistently. Amaya could only lean her head back and fall into the passion that was now coursing through her veins. To dispel it altogether, she turned in Iruka’s arms and her fingers got to work, pulling away cloth by cloth and revealing skin with every subtraction.

It wasn’t as though she hadn’t seen him naked before, but when the last piece of clothing finally shifted to the ground, a new sort of emotion came diving into her. Her eyes roved him; her hands touched him. The planes of his chest never felt so smooth, nor did the curve of his hips ever seem so powerfully desirous. When her eyes finally locked to his manhood, all coherent thought flew from her mind. She had him before, multiple times. But never before had this moment felt so important – so immensely passionate.

When she next lifted her gaze to his, Amaya was overcome by the intensity residing in his brown orbs. It felt like he was seeing her; all of her. Shivers wracked through her body. The bed suddenly felt too far away.

“Iruka...” her voice felt thick and coated, and the sound of his name coming from her parted lips made his eyes flash in satisfaction. He leaned forward to take her into his arms, and once he had secured her knees and back, he began walking to the bed, determination lingering in the air.

As soon as her back touched the mattress and Iruka found solace above her, Amaya found that she could quite remember what had happened a moment before. All she could think about was what was going to happen, and that it was happening far too slowly. She reached up to bring his mouth to hers, trying to instill that same impatience into him.

It seemed to worked. There was no foreplay, because the desperation of their bodies were too great for such things. Iruka situated himself between her legs and kissed her with a passion that seemed strangely heightened. Was it just her, or did this moment feel entirely new? It wasn’t like the other times they had become one. This was different; it was bordering on fiery impulsiveness.

When he slid into her, Amaya saw stars. He wasted no time – paused only for a moment to read her eyes – and when he saw mirrored need within them, he moved. Not long after, their hips had set a pace that rivaled any beforehand.

Their passion had escalated so much in that seconds before unification that it didn’t take very long to reach the end. The sounds of their moans soon became overpowering, drowning out any other noise or thought as they raced away, nearer and nearer to their edge.

Every thrust forced him deeper within her; every touch made the stars intensify, clouding both their visions and passionately throwing them higher up. When he suddenly hit her just right, at just the perfect moment, Amaya let out a moan that made him crazy. His pounding thrusts quickened as he ravished her, fully and completely dominating her as they both fell away into utter satisfaction.

His seed shot through her like a pledge, filling her up like he never had before. Heat coiled within her as she jerked against him, pushing him father into her as she came in sweet bliss. His name rolled from her lips again and again, and he suddenly realized that he desperately wanted to kiss her – to make that parted mouth of hers bruised and his. When he leaned down to take a kiss, their final release flashed through them and forced them to hurtle back down to reality.

Their chests panted and their thrusts slowed in passion, but their kiss made up for the lost desire as their tongues battled. The kiss was so intense that their teeth clattered together multiple times. Moans still spilt from throats.

“Haa...Iruka...” she wanted to tell him that she loved him – that he was so fucking amazing and never failed to please – that she was so happy they were finally married because the mere thought of parting from him made her heart cold. But she couldn’t find the words, because when she opened her eyes to look into his, the love that they shared was enough. The silent connection of their still intertwined bodies was enough. The lingering kiss of their bruised lips was enough. Every word she had thought was expressed within his gaze. He was more than enough for him; he was utter perfection. He leaned down to kiss her once more, and it started all over again.

// How You Found Out //

The sitting room was quiet with an exaggerated, anxious silence. There was a flash of happiness within each lover’s eyes, and yet the way they grasped their hands together showed off their nervousness. On Amaya’s lap, the pregnancy test sat like a symbol of a new life.

“If we do...have a child,” she murmured, turning her gaze to her husband, “would you be happy?”

Iruka gazed at her. A slow smile spread over his face at her obvious worry. He chuckled and leaned in to brush his lips over hers. One word gave her solace. “Yes.”

He would be a good father, she mused, lips curving up to smile at him. He was a sincere and loving man and would treat his child well. She let out a pent up sigh and wrapped her arms around his waist. The minutes ticked slowly by.

It was a busy time of their lives. They had only just been married two months prior, and were only just settling into their new house. Amaya felt a little claustrophobic at the thought of another difficulty. But this was her child, she realized. It wasn’t a difficulty; it was a blessing. Iruka gently kissed her cheek, breath blowing softly against her lips as he reached for the test. The apprehension grew.

One glance was all it took. In some way, the couple had already known that Amaya was pregnant. Too many things had pointed in the direction, and they had bought the pregnancy test on a whim because they wanted some form of proof. The green check mark had both of them grinning. They turned to each other, eyes shining in joy, and leaned in to express that joy through a mind blowing kiss.

This wasn’t a difficulty, Amaya repeated in her mind. This would make her even happier than she was now.

// Epilogue //

A soft smile lit Amaya’s face as Iruka handed her a cup of coffee. He gently placed a comforting hand on her stomach, kissed the side of her neck, and proceeded to wrap her up into his arms as she drank a few sips. Their child was due any month now, and Amaya was thankful that the pregnancy was nearly over. Being pregnant was tiring, but every bit rewarding as she had hoped it would be. Especially with Iruka to take care of her, she mused.

They shared a soft smile. The first love of marriage was still fresh on their minds, and Amaya hoped it would stay as such for years to come. As Iruka leaned in to press his lips against hers, she figured that it would. A promise lingered in the air.


Saturday, September 3, 2011

A Sasori no Akasuna Lemon -- Entertain Me

Character: Sasori no Akasuna

Fandom: Naruto

OC: Naomi, age 25

The night air was crisp and cool. There was a bitter taste in the wind as it drifted and spun through cloaks and hair. The bitterness of said wind seemed to make everyone else equally unsatisfied, but perhaps that was just because of their usual countenance.

“Damn idiots. What the fuck do they think they’re doing, anyway?” a silver haired man mumbled, teeth baring in a rather animalistic manner. The air around him wasn’t just bitter; it was aggravated to a point of fury.

There were two others with him, but they didn’t seem as affected to the cold as the former. A blue skinned man, who looked more fish than human, stood with a towering and overbearing aura. His slit-like eyes glared hard at the biting mutters of his companion. The other man didn’t seem to care about them at all. His burning eyes were his most striking feature, seconded only by the flaming red hair that curled above his ears. His pale skin seemed hard and unyielding, as though nothing could get past him. In fact, his entire person seemed that way.

No one responded to anything the silver haired ninja said. Their ability to care seemed to have disappeared altogether, especially after the complaints rose to a steadily louder pitch. Only Kisame’s teeth began to grit in anger. The red head remained stubbornly impassive.

Hidan was just beginning to snarl about his desire to break the door open when it suddenly did open, and a warm pool of light gathered on the trio. The man who stood inside took one glance at them before immediately pushing himself aside. It wasn’t uncommon for S-Ranked ninja to enter here: it was a club for criminals.

The first thing Hidan did was storm inside, glaring fitfully at the doorman before making his furious way toward the bartender. Kisame trailed behind him, mouth set in what seemed to be a permanent scowl as he watched his companion’s back. Sasori was the last one to enter. His dangerous eyes flickered to rest upon the doorman as he passed, as though extending a silent warning to him. Warning or not, the man on the receiving end got the message and managed to disappear before anything could happen to his health.

When Sasori reached the bar, the bartender quieted down. The red head and his two companions were pretty well known among the S-Ranked society, which was no surprise. He placed his order, took a seat beside Kisame, and watched with rigid eyes as his drink was made. Luckily for the bartender, Sasori found no unbalance in the mixture, and proceeded to ignore him and the rest of the bar.

After sitting there for about ten minutes, the curtains across the room suddenly opened, and a woman who was scantily clad walked onto the stage. Her blonde hair was shocking in the dim light. Kisame ogled her like a piece of meat.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” she said into a microphone, though she needn’t have. Every eye and ear in the room was directed toward the small stage, and had been every since she sauntered onto it. Everything about her screamed ‘sultry’, from the way she walked to the low tones of her voice. “As most of you know, tonight we’ll be hosting our annual event. When you see the girl you’d like, please step over to the silent auction to the right. And please remember: these girls are here to entertain. Sexual favors must be agreed upon and not forced.” She said it so breezily that it seemed apparent of every girl’s loose nature.

This sentiment was proved as soon as they began walking out. Every new addition gave way to a lesser amount of clothing. Every pair of legs had an easier aura than the last. When a red head walked out, Sasori’s eyes flashed. Though her choice of clothing was surprisingly limited compared to the others, it was obvious that she was pretty. (Attractive in subtler ways, like in the swing of her hips, and the upward, smirking tilt of her mouth.) Hidan took one look at her and scoffed, but Kisame seemed to have similar thoughts as Sasori, for he quickly made his way to the silent auction to bid. Huh. Sasori knew there was a reason he kept the shark around.

Let it be understood that red heads are known to universally united when thrown together. Naomi had entertained Kisame for much of the evening, as her duty had enforced, but as soon as the man had one too many drinks, she had found surprising solace with the other silent red head.

Drinks scattered the counter top as they sat, side by side. No words were exchanged whatsoever, but the strange, invigorating tension between the two didn’t require any. Naomi swore that there was fire burning in her veins, for the incomprehensible intimacy was tangible in the air.

To anyone around them, they just seemed to be two strangers who happened the be grouped together, which was true...but there was something deeper about their haphazard relationship. Something obviously there.

That something wasn’t made known until the sixth drink. The silence between the red heads was broken only by the throwing down of empty glasses as they hit the hard wood. As they both reached for the last glass, their fingers brushed together, and the electricity that shot between then forced a gasp from Naomi’s throat. When she glanced over at Sasori, he was staring at her, fierce eyes locked with hers. Immediately, another electrical shock buzzed through her...or was that the alcohol, finally setting in? It didn’t really matter, because now, there was only on thing on her mind.

“...Meet me in Room 14 in ten minutes?” she breathlessly wondered, desire stirring her voice.

She thought she saw a the dim flash of amusement in those stoic eyes, but before she could be sure, Naomi was stumbling from her chair. As she made her way to the rented rooms above, her alcohol-induced mind realized that he had never actually given her an answer.

Time crawled by slowly. Naomi found herself sitting at the edge of her hotel bed impatiently, clad in only a nightgown. (Which she had hoped would be coming off soon enough.) This hope didn’t look like it would be answered, though, because Sasori no Akatsuki had still not come.

She was beginning to think that he had ignored her invitation. The previous amusement she’d thought she saw within his eyes welled to the front of her mind. Did he not mean to come at all? She pouted and crossed her arms.

It was already fifteen minutes after she’d told him to meet her, which could mean one of two things. Either Sasori wanted to be fashionably late and not appear anxious, or he didn’t want to appear at all. The latter seem much more likely. She wished criminals weren’t so hard to understand. If he had told her straight out that he wasn’t interested, it would have saved a lot of annoyance.

As she flicked out her light and got comfortable in her bed, Naomi couldn’t deny the impatience of her body. She had been so sure that he would come, had worked herself up with the promise of a passionate night, only to - what was that sound?

She sat up in bed, widened eyes scouring the darkness. The thin slice of light from beneath her door was disturbed...there were shadows beneath her door, and they looked suspiciously of two feet. Huh. So he’d decided to stop by after all. Better late than never.

Her lips formed a triumphant smirk as the door quietly opened. The light from the hallway illuminated his figure, making him seem even more powerful than ever. His shocking red hair could not be mistaken.

Naomi pulled the covers from her body and got up. Her nightgown felt suddenly shorter than it did minutes before, and tighter around her chest. Was it just the heat of his eyes, or was she feeling a little more bare to him? Shivers ran up her spine.

It didn’t take him long to reach her, and when he did, he didn’t immediately take her. He stared at her for a few moments, eyes roving her scantily clad body with a hunger that had been previously been disguised. When he touched her, it wasn’t to throw her to the bed, but rather to stroke a finger down her cheek. He didn’t seem quite as dominant as she thought he would be, but the realization came as more of a relief than a disappointment. Maybe there was another side of S-Ranked criminals than she’d previously thought.

...Or maybe there wasn’t. Though he didn’t seem particularly debasing as he stood before her, the fiery impatience that lingered within the passion of his gaze had her reassessing her previous thoughts. She only found this to be more true as the moments flew by, and they were both overcome by said impatience.

The bed seemed closer than it was, because they just barely stumbled to it in their sudden onslaught of desire. Kisses bruised their lips, given sloppily and passionately. The random display of emotion had Naomi grasping for straws – and his red hair. Her breath came out in pants as her back hit the mattress and his weight came crashing onto her.

She decided that she didn’t really mind being pinned to the bed by him, because it was both exhilarating and satisfying. Every stray brush of their skin sent her heart ever faster, pushing against her breast plate in wanton desire.

He trailed his burning lips to her neck as his hands slid into her nightgown. His fingers ghosted up her sides, sending tickling sensation throughout her body. He didn’t stop until he was cupping her full breasts, and by then Naomi was so far into thankful submission that she didn’t care what he did. (Except she rather hoped he’d loose her nightgown soon.)

She let out a breathy moan when his hands began moving, massaging her in a harsh but no less pleasurable manner. Every movement of his was harsh, actually, or at the very least rugged and in control.

His lips crashed back down onto hers, forcing her deeper into dreamland as his tongue roved her mouth. Her eyes rolled back as she tasted him – if danger could have a taste, it would be his! – and heated coiled within her as hips came to grind against hers.

The erection that was obviously growing against her was as relieving as their kiss. The feel of it sent her body into ballistic decadence. (Control? Pft. It was thrown to the wind.) Her fingers tugged at him, wildly removing as much clothing as her hazy mind could comprehend. When his shirt fell away, she was quick to scratch down his delicious chest. Her lips worked heavily with his, tongues battling in a heated fight as their bodies shed more and more cloth.

When skin finally grazed skin, the soon-to-be lovers seemed to completely loose sight of reality. A snarl spilt from Sasori’s throat, deep and menacing as it ghosted over her lips. Their naked lower bodies pushed against each other, not fully meeting but dearly wanting to. As always, it seemed as though the control was still within Sasori’s grasp, for each time Naomi lifted her lips to push against his, he pulled back before she could take him.

His teasing was cruel. Naomi cracked her eyes open to throw him a glare. She guessed he wasn’t an S-Ranked criminal for nothing. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she pressed their chests together. A silent plea fell from her parted, bruised lips.

Dark amusement flashed through his eyes. His fingers pinched her breasts tightly, reveling in the sight of her twisted expression. His teeth leaned forward to harshly bite down on one pink nipple. As her back arched up in pain, he finally broke through her barriers and tore into her. The doubled pain and pleasure had her nearly screaming.

Sasori never waited for anyone, and so he didn’t care if she wasn’t adjusted to his length. He pulled out and rammed back into her as often as he liked, striking eyes narrowed with dark passion. A snarl twisted up his lips, making him appear like a wild animal, capable of eating her alive. The distorted pleasure that it gave her made her question her own sanity.

Every thrust sent him deeper into her, delving farther than anyone had ever gone. Naomi’s cries and pleads and moans were all too riveting for his mind; they fell about him like tidal waves and pushed him closer to his end.

He dug his fingers into her thigh, growled, and lifted her leg up over his shoulder. The new found freedom that he immediately achieved was well worth it. Naomi’s back arched, breasts heaving with each thrust. Her fingers sought for something to hold on to, and grasped tightly to the sheets that were spread over the bed. Her throat constricted in a desperate moan that sounded vaguely like Sasori’s name.

That one moan seemed to send him over the edge, because a moment later he was coming, jerking his hips wildly against hers and she milked him clean. He grunted, leaned forward, took her lips in his and kissed her as roughly as he dared. His hot semen filled her and she lost it as well, heat uncoiling like an elastic band and shooting forward to meet with him.

Every part of them melded together. Limbs wrapped more tightly to limbs; lips scourged lips; chests pressed against chests. It was a parade of sensations that felt like nothing neither could have ever imagined.

With one last grunt, he was done. But they didn’t move. Their kiss morphed into a gentle, thanking one. Their arms unwound but they did not let go. Their lower bodies spasmodically lowered them back into reality, but their minds were still miles high, caught within the folds of heavenly bliss.

It seemed that, as the minutes wore on, the bliss, too, lowered. When they finally opened their eyes and found themselves intertwined upon the bed, a peace quickly settled over them both. Naomi tilted her head back and smiled softly. She was satiated.

The next morning, the only reminder of his existence within her bedroom were the few grains of sand that were scatted over the floor.


A Gaara no Sabaku Lemon -- Hook, Line, and Sinker

Character: Gaara no Sabaku

Fandom: Naruto

OC: Naomi, Age 23

** This is a sequel to Liquid Courage, though can certainly be read as a stand alone Lemon as well **

A glass was slammed onto the wooden table. Around Naomi, there were rowdy yells and jeering. A fight was taking place a few tables down, though it was between two men who were pissed drunk and didn’t really cause any trouble. Lights were swimming in her eyes, and laughter was building in her ears. Across from her, a group of her friends began chortling at an unheard joke. Another round of glasses were taken up.

It had been a month since the last time she’d entered a club, and somehow, she was feeling a little down. Naomi never was a depressed woman, but compared to the uplifted, heavenly feeling that a past red-head had given her, all her days were spent moping around in boredom. It was a shame that she’d been too drunk to get his number.

She could still remember him vividly. It was as if he’d never actually left, but then that made her even more depressed, because he did leave, and that was that. Sometimes, her skin still burned with the reminder of his touch.

“Feeling a bit under the weather, Naomi?” a friend suddenly asked, drawing her forth from the thoughts she’d sunk into. She noticed how all her friends’ attention was on her. With a light clearing of her throat, she shrugged, smiled dryly, and shook her head. “I’m fine,” she mumbled, and reached for her tall, nearly untouched glass of vodka and tonic so as to brush away their inquiries.

It worked. As she lost herself in the bottom of her drink, the conversation was turned elsewhere, and she was saved from any more questions. She was feeling under the weather, but that wasn’t because of any physical sickness. Naomi forced herself to gulp down more. Maybe if she forgot about him, she wouldn’t care so much.

She was only on her third drink when a sudden shadow loomed over their table. Immediately, the conversation of her friends died down. All eyes turned to the newcomer, but only Naomi recognized him.

“...Kankuro?” there was no mistaking that weird cat hood that adorned his head. (In fact, there was no mistaking him regardless. No other guy wore purple make up and sported such a sneering grin.) She raised a brow.

He nodded to her in greeting, flashed his eyes to her friends, and then ignored them as he turned back to Naomi, “Hey. I saw you come in. Wanna have a drink at our table?”

Our table. He wasn’t alone. Which meant that Gaara was probably with him. Naomi stared at him, unsure. Now that there was actually a chance of seeing the red head again, was Naomi up to it? Could her heart take another fling that would no doubt leave her clueless for the next month...? Eh. She supposed it could. (Said heart was surprisingly flexible.) She was quick to get up. Her friends were so unsure of what was going on that they didn’t even complain as she walked away with Kankuro. She’d explain the situation to them some other time. But for now...across the clubs dance floor, an unmistakable flash of shocking red hair met her. She swallowed thickly as they neared him.

When her eyes locked with pale green, Naomi felt shock burn into her body even though she was well aware of his presence. He didn’t seem very surprised to see her. In fact, his entire countenance was as relaxed as one could be. His back was lazily slouched in the booth, arms resting heavily on the table. In one hand was a tall glass of what looked like vodka.

As she sat down across from him, Naomi felt a surprisingly strong desire remove the distance. She had never felt such uncontrol before. The urge to jump him was practically insatiable. Naomi was so overcome by reigning in said urges that she didn’t even notice the glass of beer that Kankuro set before her.

She was thankful for the distraction of the alcohol and was quick to find the bottom of the glass.

No questions or pleasantries were exchanged. Gaara merely stared at her, foamy eyes burning into hers. Kankuro chatted mindlessly, but his words passed right over Naomi’s head. She was too preoccupied by the swirling emotions within those eyes.

He seemed to be silently screaming to her, but it wasn’t an angry sort of yell. This outcry was brimming in passion; in the scandalous desire to replay their last meeting’s events. It produced a similar craving within her.

She wasn’t sure how long they sat there, staring vividly into the other’s eyes. Naomi could only recall the seemingly endless array of alcohol that she was subjected to, and the familiar scene made her longing heighten. She vaguely wondered whether this particular club would be more lenient to their using the restroom stalls.

After a while, Kankuro seemed to realize that he was getting no where in his one-sided conversation. Grumbling, he sent a scowl toward his brother and stood up, grabbing a bunch of empty glasses and making his way toward the bar to get refills.

As soon as he was gone, the atmosphere shifted. Desperation wavered over them. Their gazes intensified to a daring extent. It was almost as though Gaara was setting forth a challenge. Whether he was or not, Naomi fell for it hook, like, and sinker.

As soon as Gaara detected her submission, he stood up. His figure was suddenly very powerful. He viewed Naomi as though she was the only woman there, and it made her heart beat so fast that she thought she might faint. She was quick to follow him up.

At first, Naomi had no idea where Gaara was going. The bathrooms were in the opposite direction, she knew, but as he walked toward the door, she seemed to understand. When she saw him take a pair of keys from his pocket, all her previous confusion was replaced by extreme excitement.

It seemed that, even though Gaara’s car could take them anywhere, he had no intention of leaving. Naomi could only guess that his need was on the same level as hers, because she didn’t care where they went as long as she had him.

The backseat of the car was cramped, but that only made it all the more interesting. Naomi crawled in first, hands shaking with uncontrolled arousal. When she felt Gaara’s thankful weight around her hips, she couldn’t have asked for more...but then his lips came crashing onto hers, and that realization melted into ridicule.

His kiss was fierce and dominant, and screamed of the promise of passion. As their lips worked with insatiable need, his hands ghosted over her body, evoking emotions and cravings that, only a month before, had seemed foreign and strange.

Heat coiled within Naomi’s stomach. She was pounding for him, ready and waiting beneath his slim figure. Her mind kept screaming instructions at her, but every time she tried to follow through with them, Gaara intersected her. In a way, the lack of liberation was tantalizing her. He was not a person to be trifled with, and the realization had satisfied shivers racing all over her body.

Her fingers tugged at him everywhere – his hair, his clothes, his neck – but it didn’t seem to make him go any faster. This time around, it seemed as though he wanted to take things slow. (As slow as one could go in the backseat of a car, at least.) The softness of his controlled movements was nothing short of invigorating.

His hips ground against hers in sweet friction. The fabric restraints of their clothes earned several keening moans from Naomi, and a fumbled, undecided movement of her fingers as she failed to rid them of said clothes. It was failed, because before she could tear his pants off, Gaara grabbed her wrists and pined them above her head. He leaned back to stare into her eyes, reflecting all his passion, want, and patience in his single burning look.

“Wait,” was all he uttered, voice thick with lust and the promise of more. But even as he spoke, his body contradicted him as he hoisted her legs farther around him and pushed his strained manhood to her heated core.

He traced her cheek as his lips found hers once more, ghosted his tongue over her lip, and dug a hand into her silky hair. He grunted out a pleased moan when she returned his affection, this time going as slow as he. There was a danger in the deliberate actions of their bodies, as though Gaara was getting ready to utterly sweep her away.

Indeed, he was. His lips grew hotter against hers; their tangled limbs grew tighter; and the sudden, ominous ripping sound of her pants sounded in the soft silence. It was like the light in the darkness, the deep breath before the storm, and the peace directly after all mixed into one tiny breath of air. The lovers took that breath into their lungs, inhaling a sensation that overturned their entire bodies, and finally began to fall into the realm where reason and thought do not exist.

Naomi swore that the car was rocking so harshly that it made discretion needless. She couldn’t help herself though, for she contributed half of said rocking as she met her lover halfway.

He towered above her, arms bulging out delicious muscles as he hovered over her mouth. Their faces were inches apart and they exchanged breathes with every push of their erratic hips. His hair fell into his eyes as he stared at her. If the movements of their lower bodies was not enough to make Naomi exhilarated, then it was definitely the striking contrast within his hard, passionate, erotic green eyes.

Her ankles were joined at his back, squeezing together with every unification of their hips. Her hands had secured a place at his shoulders, hugging his close to her and digging her nails into his skin. He didn’t seem to mind the pain – in fact, he seemed particularly pleased to have it. It was as though the insignificant blood was like a breeze of reality that cut through their dream and made it attainable.

“G...G-Gaa-Gaaraa...!” He snarled at her moan and bit down on her neck, tongue roving her skin as though striking gold. Her breathy whispers were quickly making him loose control. Every outward push of breath came with the soft keening of his name, and it had him pounding into her with increasing zeal.

After only a few thrusts, their movements paid off. The rocking of the car intensified as the lovers hurtled toward their end, desperation clinging to their every motion as they hurried toward release. It was almost sorry to see their finish, but the bliss that quickly rose them ever higher was not likely to disappointed. If it was anything like the last time...

But it was better. It was better because they weren’t just fumbling around uncertainly, wondering if they were doing things right. It was better because the undeniable pledge that saturated their every touch wasn’t meant to be overlooked. It was better because Gaara wasn’t holding back, and neither was she. They found solace in the way their bodies molded together, breathes panting with the last of their passion.

And then, everything was silent. The car stopped rocking, their hips stopped moving, and the warmth that had consoled their haphazard, rushing minds lessened. A peace lingered in the air, illuminated by the soft, ragged pants of the two intertwined lovers.

Nothing was said; no words were exchanged. As Gaara slowly released her from his grasp, he turned to gaze at her. He took his time in sitting up, and she took hers in following him.

For a moment, they just sat there, still reveling in the bliss that had been theirs moments ago. After the majority of that bliss wavered, Naomi brought her lips to press silently against his. It was a short kiss, as though she were thanking him, and it made his heart swell with emotion. Tonight would probably be their last meeting.

Unless...he took her face in his hands and kissed her harder, disputing her vague goodbye. Who said that a relationship couldn’t be born from a fling? It happened every day. It could happen to them.

As their kiss turned into more, Naomi pulled back. Her lips were bruised to perfection. Her eyes were twinkling up at him with a clouded sort of happiness. Her mouth was curved up with pleasure. When she spoke, her voice was breathless and invigorating. “You’re place?”

Gaara merely smirked. There was danger surrounded him again, and it made Naomi chortle in mirth. They were quick to stumble to the front seat. Hopefully, they would find Gaara’s house a lot faster than it took them to find hers.

Extended Ending

Kankuro had spent much of his evening away from his table. He was well aware of the sexual tension between his brother and the girl, and it was definitely not something he wanted to get involved with. He figured he’d meet back up with the duo after an hour or two.

But as the night drew to a close and people began filing out of the bar, Gaara was no where to be found. No bathroom escapades this time?

As he drunkenly stumbled out the door, Kankuro began searching for Gaara’s car....only to find the parking space which previously held it to be empty. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“You with that weird red head?” he turned to glance at the bouncer, who was leaning against the club’s wall smoking a cigarette. “Whatever he was up to, it sure shook the whole God damned car.” An amused laugh annunciated his words.

...Mother of God. Not again.