[Naruto] NejiHina Smut Themes 18-20
Dec. 13th, 2007 12:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
runespoorTitle: NejiHina Smut Themes 18-20
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
runespoor7
Rating: NC-17
Summary: sixth set of smutty drabbles.
Notes: 19. Red takes place immediately after Day in the Life. ...*HAPPY AGAIN*
18. Spiral
It took Neji remarkably little time to catch on how Hinata hated the ANBU tattoo he wore on his shoulder. It took him exactly as long as it took Hinata to see it when she was back from that three-month long mission.
But of course – and Hinata knew this the moment she met his eyes – he meant for her to hate it.
A torrent of hateful words rushed through Hinata and made her press her lips together until they had to be white so she wouldn't scream. (Neji's shoulder was white, too. Which Hinata had been the only one to know before he'd joined ANBU and donned the uniform that flaunted his skin and its new brand of a new master, and the mask that would hide who he was.)
She hated it and hated and hated it, as she twirled her tongue on it insistently, rubbing with the flat of her tongue as if she wanted to erase it – or make it bleed, she was not sure – lapping at it like she'd seen Akamaru do when he wanted to taste something, following the design with the tip of her tongue, again and again and again, obsessively, as she held Neji down on her bed.
They were still both fully clothed except for his shirt, which she'd removed as soon as they were alone. She was grinding down on him, pressing her thighs and pushing down on him in a motion that meant punishment. Her knees had found his hips and were now squeezing, vice-like, on the bones.
Neji's hand rose and lazily tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, trailing on her skin. Before he'd reached either her lips or her neck, her own hand flew up, catching his wrist and violently bringing it down on the mattress, pinning the articulation down and clenching.
She didn't quite snarl. Neither did she look up.
"Do you like my tattoo, Hinata-sama?"
Neji's voice was like silk.
He shifted under her. He was hard. Her fingers tightened again on his wrist, before abruptly letting go. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the mark where she'd squeezed him stayed white for only a moment, before quickly reddening. She could make out the shape of her fingers.
Her only answer was to lick the tattoo again, lasciviously, as she snaked her hand between them and stroked him through the cloth.
The sound of rustling hair and fabric warned her that he was turning his head before he spoke next.
"I never would have been able to get it without you," the words were breathed into her ear, insidious and taunting. "ANBU is very thankful that you allowed Hyuuga to join. Do you know, they would love you to be one of them." Then his whisper became even softer. "Some of them even think that is what you have been intending."
Hinata didn't deny, though she could have.
She'd as good as promised him, several times over, that she would never join ANBU. That there would never be an animal mask to her name, or a red spiral on her arm.
He wouldn't have gone into ANBU if he hadn't made up his mind.
He'd had three months.
Hinata had only wanted to come home and forget about her mission before filling in the last reports; she had already done the debriefing with Ibiki, and she'd showered at the Intelligence and Interrogation headquarters both before and after she'd talked to him, as she always did every time she entered the building and every time before she left.
She had only wanted to find Neji.
She undid his fly, slipped her hand beneath his boxers and wrapped her fingers around his cock, massaging the hardened flesh that jolted under her touch. Instantly, a sick sort of relief flooded through her. She wondered why this reaction made any difference. He hadn't given any sign that he acknowledged she had her hand down his pants.
She didn't want him any less for the brand on his shoulder, after all.
Pushing off him, she worked his clothes down until they were at mid-thighs level. He didn't help her, but neither did he turn away to keep her from achieving her goal. Then she quickly undressed.
It was like a distorted re-enacting of the evening before she'd left on her mission, Hinata told herself. Except that now the fire in Neji's eyes was sparkling with viciousness, and he didn't need to be restrained not to touch her.
Then, slowly, Neji ran his hand up his length, then down. The tips of his fingers smeared the precome gathered on his slit. Hinata took it in, took in the faint marks on his hipbones where she'd squeezed, took in the flat expanse of his stomach, the dipping of the navel between abs that weren't so much chiselled as hinted, thanks to the clan taijutsu, and which, Hinata knew from experience, felt like living steel under her palms.
His breathing accentuated.
Hinata felt herself blushing under his gaze – she knew he was looking at her, and she didn't dare look up yet. She was afraid of what she'd see in his eyes.
She had never wanted anything the way she wanted him now, and she thought it must show. Especially to Neji.
And this was why he was putting on a show, wasn't it?
A sudden twist of his arm caught her eye – a darker stain against his paleness revealed – and it was the tattoo he'd flashed at her.
The ANBU spiral, and his hand on his cock.
She didn't need the Hyuuga prodigy's eyes to understand what he meant to convey; that he didn’t need her, after all.
But he was still on her bed, in her room. And after three months of – she would just call it spying, it was the most accurate description even if Hinata would never have been selected for that mission if they'd only needed a spy – Hinata just wanted him. Even if he was slightly less Hyuuga than before she'd left, and not really hers any longer at all.
Somehow, if he was naked and in her room, he had to be Neji-niisan.
And – Hinata vowed as she crawled on the bed on her knees, defiantly meeting Neji's blank/burning eyes and, holding him around the base, sinking down on his cock – she'd find a way to take him back.
Neji already had a mark on his forehead.
It was one too many.
19. Red
"Good," Hinata has just said, and she means it; it is good that she should have blood on the sleeve of her kimono. It should serve to remind Neji that as much as he acts otherwise, she's not helpless.
She's just killed four ninjas; three of which she handled herself in the space of a handful of seconds, two of which she tortured in front on Neji's eyes – not much, just enough, just enough to know if they knew who had sent them to kill her. Just enough to help them talk.
Just enough.
She could have done more.
Maybe she should have.
She’d wanted to.
But Neji wanted to take over; so, instead of denying him outright and – or – making sure she was right, she selected to trust the dead ninjas a little sooner than she usually would have, and to forego the following exchanges. She killed them as painlessly as she knew how, with a controlled infusion of chakra to stop their hearts.
But her sleeve nevertheless bears a stain of blood. It isn't really a stain, actually; the fabric is sprinkled with a multitude of small red drops that almost look like they have always been part of the flowery fabric's design. It's only when one looks at the base of the wide part of the sleeve that the illusion is broken; there the sleeve looks as though it has been dragged into the liquid.
She must have been careless, she doesn't remember when she has made a move that could result so.
Neji's fingers wrap gently around her wrist, and his other hand equally gently slips the sleeve up. That's when Hinata realises she has been staring at her sleeve. She hasn't heard him move, either, and she is still kneeling by the last man she killed. She could look down and a little further, and she would find his face, glassy-eyed and frozen in death.
She doesn't. Her eyes are fixed on Neji's fingers. She sees them around her wrist; he is touching her. She can also feel them, when she concentrates on it. They are warm and fit tightly but lightly around her wrist.
She tentatively, curiously turns her hand in his, and she finds she can. It creates a sensation that is too light to be called a friction. It's much closer to a caress. Her body is reacting to the contact, but, because she judges such lightness interesting, she turns her hand again.
The fingers tighten warningly, making her stop, and she looks up.
Neji opens his mouth as if he wanted to say something, and Hinata's head cocks to the side. Neji has a very pretty mouth, thin, well-defined lips, less chapped than hers. But he closes it instead, shaking his head; Hinata stays very straight and unmoving as he leans over, bringing his head closer to her, until Hinata can see distinctly each of his eyelashes, and his breath brushes against her lips. She fights against the urge to recoil, and in the next moment his lips are touching hers.
It's natural for her eyelids to flutter closed, after a moment, and for her lips to part as Neji is kissing her.
His hand is running on the skin of the arm he uncovered; Hinata has goosebumps. His other hand is cupped behind her nape.
Hinata lets him kiss her.
Later, she also lets him spread her on the floor like a doll, with her gaze serious and trusting. (One inch to the left of Neji's face glints a pair of glasses.)
20. Tea
A spacious living room, coppery sunlight cleanly painting the window panels on the smooth empty floor. It's the end of the afternoon, the shadows are darker than they otherwise would be.
(Pay no heed to the eight-limbed shape in the shadows, and the sounds muffled by the silence of the room.)
The light falls diagonally across a low table, cutting it in two unequal parts.
(Cloth slipping down an arching back.)
On the table, everything is set for tea. The air is still and cool over the teapot.
(A cry from the figure that doesn't make it past the border of light; the outline of the shape changes again, the distance closes between the perpendicular halves.)
One of the cups, knocked over, lays on its side in the light part, its contents spilled on the table top.
Author:
runespoor7Rating: NC-17
Summary: sixth set of smutty drabbles.
Notes: 19. Red takes place immediately after Day in the Life. ...*HAPPY AGAIN*
18. Spiral
It took Neji remarkably little time to catch on how Hinata hated the ANBU tattoo he wore on his shoulder. It took him exactly as long as it took Hinata to see it when she was back from that three-month long mission.
But of course – and Hinata knew this the moment she met his eyes – he meant for her to hate it.
A torrent of hateful words rushed through Hinata and made her press her lips together until they had to be white so she wouldn't scream. (Neji's shoulder was white, too. Which Hinata had been the only one to know before he'd joined ANBU and donned the uniform that flaunted his skin and its new brand of a new master, and the mask that would hide who he was.)
She hated it and hated and hated it, as she twirled her tongue on it insistently, rubbing with the flat of her tongue as if she wanted to erase it – or make it bleed, she was not sure – lapping at it like she'd seen Akamaru do when he wanted to taste something, following the design with the tip of her tongue, again and again and again, obsessively, as she held Neji down on her bed.
They were still both fully clothed except for his shirt, which she'd removed as soon as they were alone. She was grinding down on him, pressing her thighs and pushing down on him in a motion that meant punishment. Her knees had found his hips and were now squeezing, vice-like, on the bones.
Neji's hand rose and lazily tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, trailing on her skin. Before he'd reached either her lips or her neck, her own hand flew up, catching his wrist and violently bringing it down on the mattress, pinning the articulation down and clenching.
She didn't quite snarl. Neither did she look up.
"Do you like my tattoo, Hinata-sama?"
Neji's voice was like silk.
He shifted under her. He was hard. Her fingers tightened again on his wrist, before abruptly letting go. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the mark where she'd squeezed him stayed white for only a moment, before quickly reddening. She could make out the shape of her fingers.
Her only answer was to lick the tattoo again, lasciviously, as she snaked her hand between them and stroked him through the cloth.
The sound of rustling hair and fabric warned her that he was turning his head before he spoke next.
"I never would have been able to get it without you," the words were breathed into her ear, insidious and taunting. "ANBU is very thankful that you allowed Hyuuga to join. Do you know, they would love you to be one of them." Then his whisper became even softer. "Some of them even think that is what you have been intending."
Hinata didn't deny, though she could have.
She'd as good as promised him, several times over, that she would never join ANBU. That there would never be an animal mask to her name, or a red spiral on her arm.
He wouldn't have gone into ANBU if he hadn't made up his mind.
He'd had three months.
Hinata had only wanted to come home and forget about her mission before filling in the last reports; she had already done the debriefing with Ibiki, and she'd showered at the Intelligence and Interrogation headquarters both before and after she'd talked to him, as she always did every time she entered the building and every time before she left.
She had only wanted to find Neji.
She undid his fly, slipped her hand beneath his boxers and wrapped her fingers around his cock, massaging the hardened flesh that jolted under her touch. Instantly, a sick sort of relief flooded through her. She wondered why this reaction made any difference. He hadn't given any sign that he acknowledged she had her hand down his pants.
She didn't want him any less for the brand on his shoulder, after all.
Pushing off him, she worked his clothes down until they were at mid-thighs level. He didn't help her, but neither did he turn away to keep her from achieving her goal. Then she quickly undressed.
It was like a distorted re-enacting of the evening before she'd left on her mission, Hinata told herself. Except that now the fire in Neji's eyes was sparkling with viciousness, and he didn't need to be restrained not to touch her.
Then, slowly, Neji ran his hand up his length, then down. The tips of his fingers smeared the precome gathered on his slit. Hinata took it in, took in the faint marks on his hipbones where she'd squeezed, took in the flat expanse of his stomach, the dipping of the navel between abs that weren't so much chiselled as hinted, thanks to the clan taijutsu, and which, Hinata knew from experience, felt like living steel under her palms.
His breathing accentuated.
Hinata felt herself blushing under his gaze – she knew he was looking at her, and she didn't dare look up yet. She was afraid of what she'd see in his eyes.
She had never wanted anything the way she wanted him now, and she thought it must show. Especially to Neji.
And this was why he was putting on a show, wasn't it?
A sudden twist of his arm caught her eye – a darker stain against his paleness revealed – and it was the tattoo he'd flashed at her.
The ANBU spiral, and his hand on his cock.
She didn't need the Hyuuga prodigy's eyes to understand what he meant to convey; that he didn’t need her, after all.
But he was still on her bed, in her room. And after three months of – she would just call it spying, it was the most accurate description even if Hinata would never have been selected for that mission if they'd only needed a spy – Hinata just wanted him. Even if he was slightly less Hyuuga than before she'd left, and not really hers any longer at all.
Somehow, if he was naked and in her room, he had to be Neji-niisan.
And – Hinata vowed as she crawled on the bed on her knees, defiantly meeting Neji's blank/burning eyes and, holding him around the base, sinking down on his cock – she'd find a way to take him back.
Neji already had a mark on his forehead.
It was one too many.
19. Red
"Good," Hinata has just said, and she means it; it is good that she should have blood on the sleeve of her kimono. It should serve to remind Neji that as much as he acts otherwise, she's not helpless.
She's just killed four ninjas; three of which she handled herself in the space of a handful of seconds, two of which she tortured in front on Neji's eyes – not much, just enough, just enough to know if they knew who had sent them to kill her. Just enough to help them talk.
Just enough.
She could have done more.
Maybe she should have.
She’d wanted to.
But Neji wanted to take over; so, instead of denying him outright and – or – making sure she was right, she selected to trust the dead ninjas a little sooner than she usually would have, and to forego the following exchanges. She killed them as painlessly as she knew how, with a controlled infusion of chakra to stop their hearts.
But her sleeve nevertheless bears a stain of blood. It isn't really a stain, actually; the fabric is sprinkled with a multitude of small red drops that almost look like they have always been part of the flowery fabric's design. It's only when one looks at the base of the wide part of the sleeve that the illusion is broken; there the sleeve looks as though it has been dragged into the liquid.
She must have been careless, she doesn't remember when she has made a move that could result so.
Neji's fingers wrap gently around her wrist, and his other hand equally gently slips the sleeve up. That's when Hinata realises she has been staring at her sleeve. She hasn't heard him move, either, and she is still kneeling by the last man she killed. She could look down and a little further, and she would find his face, glassy-eyed and frozen in death.
She doesn't. Her eyes are fixed on Neji's fingers. She sees them around her wrist; he is touching her. She can also feel them, when she concentrates on it. They are warm and fit tightly but lightly around her wrist.
She tentatively, curiously turns her hand in his, and she finds she can. It creates a sensation that is too light to be called a friction. It's much closer to a caress. Her body is reacting to the contact, but, because she judges such lightness interesting, she turns her hand again.
The fingers tighten warningly, making her stop, and she looks up.
Neji opens his mouth as if he wanted to say something, and Hinata's head cocks to the side. Neji has a very pretty mouth, thin, well-defined lips, less chapped than hers. But he closes it instead, shaking his head; Hinata stays very straight and unmoving as he leans over, bringing his head closer to her, until Hinata can see distinctly each of his eyelashes, and his breath brushes against her lips. She fights against the urge to recoil, and in the next moment his lips are touching hers.
It's natural for her eyelids to flutter closed, after a moment, and for her lips to part as Neji is kissing her.
His hand is running on the skin of the arm he uncovered; Hinata has goosebumps. His other hand is cupped behind her nape.
Hinata lets him kiss her.
Later, she also lets him spread her on the floor like a doll, with her gaze serious and trusting. (One inch to the left of Neji's face glints a pair of glasses.)
20. Tea
A spacious living room, coppery sunlight cleanly painting the window panels on the smooth empty floor. It's the end of the afternoon, the shadows are darker than they otherwise would be.
(Pay no heed to the eight-limbed shape in the shadows, and the sounds muffled by the silence of the room.)
The light falls diagonally across a low table, cutting it in two unequal parts.
(Cloth slipping down an arching back.)
On the table, everything is set for tea. The air is still and cool over the teapot.
(A cry from the figure that doesn't make it past the border of light; the outline of the shape changes again, the distance closes between the perpendicular halves.)
One of the cups, knocked over, lays on its side in the light part, its contents spilled on the table top.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-12-13 02:24 pm (UTC)And what's better?
Celebrationverse is BACK!!
YAY!! WOOOT!!
Not that I'm excited or anything...
no subject
Date: 2007-12-13 02:32 pm (UTC)Hmm, I'd say that Celebrationverse was back. Like, back for this theme. >_> It doesn't want anything to do with me so far any more, and my brain's getting kicked by Ino and/or AU. So probably no Celebrationverse before, er. Long. >_>
no subject
Date: 2007-12-14 12:38 am (UTC)Hmm.. her preoccupation with the bloody sleeve is interesting, too. It's hard to pin down exactly if she's feeling actual remorse, or shock; or if she's merely diverted. It seems like she's staring at it with the same mental detachment as when she lets Neji kiss her, but then earlier you say that she had killed them the most painless way she knew how (also disturbed at the fact that she knows *which* of the ways would be painless XD;), almost as if to spare them from the torture, but then she's done it before...
It's puzzling, a bit disturbing, and very messed up. ^^ *huggles it* XD And, well, the other two.. are also messed up and especially 18 shows some interesting dynamics in Neji and Hinata's relationship. And I like the subtle, but still very powerful smut in 20. XD; I guess there's some symbolism with the cup, but I'm not gifted enough to guess at it. :P XD
no subject
Date: 2007-12-19 03:18 pm (UTC)I'm glad that her detachment comes through, as it's the way my Hinata deals with the shock of, well... taking Kabuto's place in what he did to her. More accurately, when she tortures someone, she's torturing herself - the girl who was a prisoner in Sound. Which you can guess isn't the healthiest thing ever. >_>
There's a thing implied, too, that by "letting" him do that to her, she can also refuse him.
Actually, I wanted to imply that she takes no part in it. I don't think she could refuse him - not that Neji'd rape her, but I don't think she even envisages she could say no. To her mind, she has no reason why she'd say no. She has no reason to say yes either, which is why she barely reacts (she's doesn't kiss back, and she's merely responsive as it is). There aren't many things to which Hinata would say either no or yes when she's in that state.
bloody sleeve: cheap symbolism ftw about how she's got blood on her hands and how she's not even dressed the part of an I&I expert blahblahblah... :D
you say that she had killed them the most painless way she knew how (also disturbed at the fact that she knows *which* of the ways would be painless XD;), almost as if to spare them from the torture
Hinata's not a sadist. As much as she can be said to think in that mindset, she's worried about how humane she is - on the one hand, she takes great care to spare them the pain of dying, but otoh, she's concerned about the fact that she''d have liked to torture them longer than she did. That's also one of the reasons she killed them as soon as she did; she was starting to fear that she was enjoying it.
Painless death: yeah, well, what Kabuto didn't oh-so-nicely tell her, I'm sure Ibiki & co instructed her in. >_> *covers the fact that the sentence may still sound weird*
Someday I'll totally get around to writing the story behind 18. I even know what happens, I just... completely lacks the energy.
that, and the T7 part of the fic keeps telling me that it could be better.Oh, and the symbolism in 20 is just very, very minor - actually, it's more of an implication that they jumped each other and didn't care that they'd tilted one of the cups over. And it's supposed to reflect their position shuttup. In my mind, Hinata is totally straddling Neji, and the cup that was dropped was Neji's because Hinata really was the one who jumped him.
Wow, I sure did ramble. Sorry for that, but your comments were interesting, and I had to answer, right? Right?
no subject
Date: 2007-12-14 05:59 am (UTC)i totally fall in love with No. 18!!
thank u very much!
no subject
Date: 2007-12-19 03:20 pm (UTC)...*starts looking sideways at the story behind 18* ...
no subject
Date: 2007-12-28 01:56 pm (UTC)