[Naruto] NejiHina Smut Themes 1-5
Nov. 7th, 2007 11:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
runespoorTitle: NejiHina Smut Themes 1-5
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
runespoor7
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Bunch o’ smutty drabbles.
Notes: The lovelyhiasobi posted a theme set back in March, and I’ve been struggling on-again-off-again with this idea since then. For the record, I hate writing smut so a number of these will likely be not all that graphic. They’ll be sex-related, at least. >_>
1. Hurt
One of the things Neji came to learn was that just because Hinata cried out or whimpered didn't mean it was bad.
When he slammed her against a wall or bent her over a table, when the Council was barely out of the room, because he was there and they might see her now but it wasn't her they were bowing to, but only the title she was bearing (the title she was twisting out of shape with everything she had, everything she was; until the Council would have no more but bowing to her because it would be all that was left).
When he tightened his hold over her wrists, when he jammed his knee between her thighs, when he yanked on her hair and thrust his hips forward and there were a few tears sliding down her cheeks.
When he knotted the hitai-ate firmly as a gag, the metal plate over her cheek and the cloth between her jaws, so she could have something else to bite down on than her own lips. When he whispered things into her ear that they could both pretend the gag was keeping her from answering to.
When she didn't always ask in so many words, but she looked at him or brushed against him in a certain way (in front of the elders; Remind me I'm not like them; please help me fuck their world up, Neji-niisan) or she ignored him (and if he didn't respond, then it would have been a row) or she let him work his issues out (his issues, and her issues, and at some point it had become their issues; weren't things marvellous?).
Just because Hinata reacted when she hurt didn't mean it was bad.
It was when she didn't that Neji knew things were wrong.
2. Freedom
Hinata has been a prisoner for three months, and a Hyuuga for her whole life. She has been the Hyuuga heir since she was born, and a disappointment to her father ever since his eyes wandered on his brother's son. Hinata, Neji acknowledges, has been burdened with chains that wanted to drag her down into cages he only came to see far too long after he started resenting his own.
Hinata has a crush on Uzumaki Naruto that is bound to go unfulfilled, because of her own failings, or his, or the clan's. Hinata had hoped to fight Neji off when she clearly didn't stand a chance. Hinata's choices always seem to leave her thrown into the dust, rather than as high and free as they suggest her dreams are.
Hinata kisses Neji in corners of the Hyuuga compound and more often in her own room, where she is the Hyuuga Head and her door just lacks the shiny plaque on the cage.
Neji can't help but think that if they want to cage her up, they're going at it the wrong way.
Her thighs are spread and her lips are parted and her eyes are delightfully open, and she lets out the most intoxicating little cries in mid-morning sun.
3. Chair
Neji tentatively tries his bonds.
It's useless, of course, and he doesn't particularly want them to give, but he's just not used to these. Habitually when she wants him tied up, Hinata sprawls him on the bed and binds his wrists to the headboard.
Today though, Neji's sitting on a chair with his wrists tied behind the chair's hard back, and he fleetingly wonders what prompted this particular fantasy.
It's uncomfortable as hell, but he's not going to complain.
Not with Hinata rocking slowly in his lap, when she's straddling him with her thighs and breasts pushing into him, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, with her short moans coming like the delighted little gasps of a child into his ear. He feels her around him, against him, gentle and insistent, and so, so hot.
Their chests are sweaty, sticky as she rubs against him, pressure slightly lifting off him before she sits back again and Neji groans softly.
Her breath catches, her arm slips on his shoulder and almost off, her nails rake over his flesh as she tries to regain some amount of steadiness, and she leans forward, resting her forehead against him for a moment, but her inner muscles don't relax around his cock.
He's not sure she'd be able to relax them in this position, when she has gravity weighing her down and no mattress she could push on with her knees.
She can't pull off him so easily like this; Neji's groin tightens at the idea and at the prolonged contact, unmoving except for the pressure of her breasts as she breathes, but he's given up on trying to thrust there. He has virtually no leverage, and he's reluctant to try anyway.
Hinata's thighs are trembling against him, her arms bonelessly draped over his shoulders.
Neji's almost afraid of hurting her if he moves, though he's never gentle when he leads and he knows for a fact that she's already been stretched much more than that, with bruises on the tender skin of her inner thighs, and the cautious limp to prove it.
Her sticky fringe itches his skin, her face heated with the flush of sex. Her long hair clings to her neck and back, he sees – heat and sweat. It's probably even less comfortable for her than it is for him.
A muffled, giggly chuckle nests into his neck, before Hinata pushes back into her previous position. He catches her smile as she leans backwards, her eyes closing, and he smiles back, even if she can't see him.
4. Shower
The water made everything slicker, particularly the tiles, but Neji could focus chakra in the soles of his feet as her back slid against the slippery wall and she had to reflexively squeeze her thighs. His hands were braced on either side of her head.
He kissed her collarbone, rocking into her.
Hinata answered with small squeals which were lost in the drumming and streaming of water on them, deafening into the stall.
The sounds of their activities might be reverberated loudly on the outside, for them there was only the water crashing and flowing, annihilating every other noise.
He was filling her, holding her, flush against her, but the heat of his body was dimmed by the sheet of cool water running down between them. He might be mumbling, moaning softly, she wouldn't know it.
His mouth was only adding wetness to already wet skin, only slightly warmer. The showers attached to the public training grounds were simple accommodations.
Hinata thought that maybe that was the reason Neji liked it so much.
5. Flower
Sometimes Neji muses about girls and flowers as his hands roam over Hinata's sleeping body.
In broad daylight, he doesn't like flowers; he sees only the skeleton of what they symbolise; they, like many other things, are lost on him. In broad daylight, nothing would be further from a flower than Hinata to him, no matter how many may be surrounding her, in the shape of a lotus on a pond, or bushes of colours, or a vase in a room, or a painting on a wall.
(Flowers wait to be picked. Flowers are what the gardener decides they should be. Flowers wither and die all too easily, and are replaced.)
He doesn't think about Ino or Sakura; or, if he does, his lips curl into a smirk of disdain. It is easy to discard them, all flower-like though they are.
He alone knows that Hinata is more of a flower than either of them, or any of the would-be kunoichi who mastered more of the Academy-taught ikebana than Hinata ever had.
She doesn't look like a flower, not even a thorny rose, not even a timid violet. Her hair is blue and black like inky water rippling under the moon, with nothing of the yellow or pink children use to represent petals. Her silhouette is curved with dramatic breasts-waist-hips emphasis; nothing of the lean line of a stem there.
But when he touches her nipples with the tip of his fingers, very delicately lest she wakes up, the buds bloom on her breasts. And when he snakes his hand lower and curls his fingers over her crotch, tracing the rim, she opens just like a flower, her clitoris just as sensitive as he imagines a pistil should be.
If he brings his head down there and breathes in, he can smell her.
Author:
runespoor7Rating: NC-17
Summary: Bunch o’ smutty drabbles.
Notes: The lovely
hiasobi posted a theme set back in March, and I’ve been struggling on-again-off-again with this idea since then. For the record, I hate writing smut so a number of these will likely be not all that graphic. They’ll be sex-related, at least. >_>1. Hurt
One of the things Neji came to learn was that just because Hinata cried out or whimpered didn't mean it was bad.
When he slammed her against a wall or bent her over a table, when the Council was barely out of the room, because he was there and they might see her now but it wasn't her they were bowing to, but only the title she was bearing (the title she was twisting out of shape with everything she had, everything she was; until the Council would have no more but bowing to her because it would be all that was left).
When he tightened his hold over her wrists, when he jammed his knee between her thighs, when he yanked on her hair and thrust his hips forward and there were a few tears sliding down her cheeks.
When he knotted the hitai-ate firmly as a gag, the metal plate over her cheek and the cloth between her jaws, so she could have something else to bite down on than her own lips. When he whispered things into her ear that they could both pretend the gag was keeping her from answering to.
When she didn't always ask in so many words, but she looked at him or brushed against him in a certain way (in front of the elders; Remind me I'm not like them; please help me fuck their world up, Neji-niisan) or she ignored him (and if he didn't respond, then it would have been a row) or she let him work his issues out (his issues, and her issues, and at some point it had become their issues; weren't things marvellous?).
Just because Hinata reacted when she hurt didn't mean it was bad.
It was when she didn't that Neji knew things were wrong.
2. Freedom
Hinata has been a prisoner for three months, and a Hyuuga for her whole life. She has been the Hyuuga heir since she was born, and a disappointment to her father ever since his eyes wandered on his brother's son. Hinata, Neji acknowledges, has been burdened with chains that wanted to drag her down into cages he only came to see far too long after he started resenting his own.
Hinata has a crush on Uzumaki Naruto that is bound to go unfulfilled, because of her own failings, or his, or the clan's. Hinata had hoped to fight Neji off when she clearly didn't stand a chance. Hinata's choices always seem to leave her thrown into the dust, rather than as high and free as they suggest her dreams are.
Hinata kisses Neji in corners of the Hyuuga compound and more often in her own room, where she is the Hyuuga Head and her door just lacks the shiny plaque on the cage.
Neji can't help but think that if they want to cage her up, they're going at it the wrong way.
Her thighs are spread and her lips are parted and her eyes are delightfully open, and she lets out the most intoxicating little cries in mid-morning sun.
3. Chair
Neji tentatively tries his bonds.
It's useless, of course, and he doesn't particularly want them to give, but he's just not used to these. Habitually when she wants him tied up, Hinata sprawls him on the bed and binds his wrists to the headboard.
Today though, Neji's sitting on a chair with his wrists tied behind the chair's hard back, and he fleetingly wonders what prompted this particular fantasy.
It's uncomfortable as hell, but he's not going to complain.
Not with Hinata rocking slowly in his lap, when she's straddling him with her thighs and breasts pushing into him, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, with her short moans coming like the delighted little gasps of a child into his ear. He feels her around him, against him, gentle and insistent, and so, so hot.
Their chests are sweaty, sticky as she rubs against him, pressure slightly lifting off him before she sits back again and Neji groans softly.
Her breath catches, her arm slips on his shoulder and almost off, her nails rake over his flesh as she tries to regain some amount of steadiness, and she leans forward, resting her forehead against him for a moment, but her inner muscles don't relax around his cock.
He's not sure she'd be able to relax them in this position, when she has gravity weighing her down and no mattress she could push on with her knees.
She can't pull off him so easily like this; Neji's groin tightens at the idea and at the prolonged contact, unmoving except for the pressure of her breasts as she breathes, but he's given up on trying to thrust there. He has virtually no leverage, and he's reluctant to try anyway.
Hinata's thighs are trembling against him, her arms bonelessly draped over his shoulders.
Neji's almost afraid of hurting her if he moves, though he's never gentle when he leads and he knows for a fact that she's already been stretched much more than that, with bruises on the tender skin of her inner thighs, and the cautious limp to prove it.
Her sticky fringe itches his skin, her face heated with the flush of sex. Her long hair clings to her neck and back, he sees – heat and sweat. It's probably even less comfortable for her than it is for him.
A muffled, giggly chuckle nests into his neck, before Hinata pushes back into her previous position. He catches her smile as she leans backwards, her eyes closing, and he smiles back, even if she can't see him.
4. Shower
The water made everything slicker, particularly the tiles, but Neji could focus chakra in the soles of his feet as her back slid against the slippery wall and she had to reflexively squeeze her thighs. His hands were braced on either side of her head.
He kissed her collarbone, rocking into her.
Hinata answered with small squeals which were lost in the drumming and streaming of water on them, deafening into the stall.
The sounds of their activities might be reverberated loudly on the outside, for them there was only the water crashing and flowing, annihilating every other noise.
He was filling her, holding her, flush against her, but the heat of his body was dimmed by the sheet of cool water running down between them. He might be mumbling, moaning softly, she wouldn't know it.
His mouth was only adding wetness to already wet skin, only slightly warmer. The showers attached to the public training grounds were simple accommodations.
Hinata thought that maybe that was the reason Neji liked it so much.
5. Flower
Sometimes Neji muses about girls and flowers as his hands roam over Hinata's sleeping body.
In broad daylight, he doesn't like flowers; he sees only the skeleton of what they symbolise; they, like many other things, are lost on him. In broad daylight, nothing would be further from a flower than Hinata to him, no matter how many may be surrounding her, in the shape of a lotus on a pond, or bushes of colours, or a vase in a room, or a painting on a wall.
(Flowers wait to be picked. Flowers are what the gardener decides they should be. Flowers wither and die all too easily, and are replaced.)
He doesn't think about Ino or Sakura; or, if he does, his lips curl into a smirk of disdain. It is easy to discard them, all flower-like though they are.
He alone knows that Hinata is more of a flower than either of them, or any of the would-be kunoichi who mastered more of the Academy-taught ikebana than Hinata ever had.
She doesn't look like a flower, not even a thorny rose, not even a timid violet. Her hair is blue and black like inky water rippling under the moon, with nothing of the yellow or pink children use to represent petals. Her silhouette is curved with dramatic breasts-waist-hips emphasis; nothing of the lean line of a stem there.
But when he touches her nipples with the tip of his fingers, very delicately lest she wakes up, the buds bloom on her breasts. And when he snakes his hand lower and curls his fingers over her crotch, tracing the rim, she opens just like a flower, her clitoris just as sensitive as he imagines a pistil should be.
If he brings his head down there and breathes in, he can smell her.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-11-07 02:22 pm (UTC)With a lovely kinky intro like that, the fic could have ended just there. :d ... no wait, more is always better. XD It almost made me sorry when the last sentence turned out like a bucket of cold water. X'D The last sentence was amazingly insightful: it's when people don't react that you know something has gone way too wrong.
But in the meantime it interrupts the smut. ;_;
XD
I must say, although you claim to go easy on the descriptions, your drabbles were Wonderfully explicit and visual. It is very likely thanks to how you combine the physical and the psychological. It is a lovely combo, really. I'm actually surprised (in a good way!) by the audacity. I would suppose, for example, that 2. Freedom and 5. Flower are meant to be the least graphic, but somehow they just allow the imagination to run wild (not that there's anything with filling in the blanks, either).
It reminds me of how you write fighting scenes: you don't necessarily go much into the technicals, but with the right emotional setting everything just feels so explicit.
What can I say? These were really hot. XD Mooore!
no subject
Date: 2007-11-08 04:58 pm (UTC)So yay, I extrapolate. I also try imitating the style of a few authors I like who write these really short, really good fics/fragments/scenes, but I must admit so far I'm failing. xD
~working on the next batch!
no subject
Date: 2007-11-08 05:35 pm (UTC)... *nosebleed* *makes note of using logic game analogies*
I'm not sure how you compare to those other authors, but remember this: no matter how hard you try, you won't ever become Shakespear. That doesn't mean you can't be a hell lot of a great author though. If all the people who can't measure up to Shakespear were to give up writing, the world would be a rather sad place. XD
Basically, don't leave us with those lame writers that make up 90% of ff.net. ;_;
no subject
Date: 2007-11-08 05:44 pm (UTC)So not leaving the Naruto fandom in the foreseeable future. Mwahaha, you're not getting rid of me that easily! :p
no subject
Date: 2007-11-08 01:42 am (UTC)And oh, my god. Bondage ♥ Goddamn, that's hot!! I like how Neji wants to be gentle with Hinata, but he's always rough! That's pretty cute ♥
The fifth theme was... so perverted ♥ Touching her when she's sleeping?! You're a sneaky snake, Neji!
no subject
Date: 2007-11-08 04:51 pm (UTC)Lol, you get embarrassed, I get bored. And lazy. "Okay, I got them in the mood. *only took 800 words, phew* ...Now I've got to make them actually have sex. And describe it. ... ...you know I think I've already made them have sex. Let's fade to black and write something else."
Kinky sex is the least boring to write.
I'm glad you thought those worked!
And, heh, for the fifth... Think about it this way: it's reverence. *<- is being sincere, so wut* It's the expression of how pure and beautiful and obsessive his love for her is! Also, I bet she totally likes waking up that way.
no subject
Date: 2007-11-18 07:58 pm (UTC)