Naruto WIP, MadaSaku one-shot (PWP, NC-17, rough draft)
(breath play)
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing: Madara x Sakura
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Dub-Con ahoy! My take on ‘breath play’, and adult content ahead. Get your harassment-stick or popcorn ready, whatever floats your boat.
Length: Approx. 1500 words, give or take.
Disclaimer: Fic’s mine, characters belong to their rightful rights-holders.
She hated him. Hated him so much.
The band around her throat tightened, constricting her airways as he pushed her forward with his thrust; her heart rate sped up as her anxiety spiked, then faded as he rolled his hips back again, giving the strap just enough slack for her to gasp and catch her breath before he thrust forward again. Stretched her uncomfortably, inside and out.
Sakura felt his hot, moist breath against the curve of her neck as he leaned forward, his tongue tracing the elegant, sweat-dampened lines. From deep inside his chest he growled appreciatively when she shuddered, and the rumbling passed through her as he pressed himself to her back.
“Come closer,” he breathed, the words tickling her ear. “Or you’ll run out of air.”
She tried to turn her head away but the band tightened again, her logic desperately struggling to overcome her natural response, fear, which demanded she escape, or at least attempt to escape.
“No,” she croaked, her fingers clenching as they tried to form fists. Bound as they were, they were mostly useless, but she had to release the stress somehow.
His hands moved from her hips to rub up and down the insides of her thighs, teasing her, as he traced her jaw line with his nose. His dark hair brushed her cheek, and she stiffened further.
“A-way,” she tried to order him, but her voice was raspy.
With sensual ease he placed a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her jaw to her throat, before coming to rest his teeth lightly on her pulse.
She felt him smirk as he rolled his hips up, touching so deeply inside her her breath left her in a high-pitched gasp, his cock filling her so completely and hitting one of the most sensitive spots in her core that she shook with the intensity of the feeling.
It was then he tightened the line again, trapping her, forcing her to feel everything he did to her, the hot, moist air he breathed across her exposed chest, his firm, commanding hands on her inner thighs as they commanded she splay herself open further for him, the hard thickness that filled her, everything so intensely tears leaked from the corners of her eyes.
She hated him. So much. Hated him for making her feel so powerless.
“Air, please!” she tried to speak, her voice barely making a squeak as no air could pass through her vocal cords.
“Hmm? Was that a please?”
He released the line slightly, just enough for her to let her breath out, and she sagged back against him, unable to fight him much longer.
She was getting dizzy.
“Feeling more cooperative yet?”
With her lying against him so, finally submitting to him in some manner, his smirk grew. He enjoyed watching her breasts heaving as she tried to suck in air, as she trembled against him, as she closed her eyes and likely couldn’t think of anything but him in that moment.
But he wanted more.
Rolling his hips into hers more gently for a minute or so, he let her rest as he nuzzled her neck and hair.
“I like it when you fight back,” he murmured, nibbling his way up the shell of her ear, his heavy breathing setting off fireworks in her veins, no matter how hard she tried to deny it. Deny him.
Her thought processes were shutting down at his more gentle ministrations; the way his member pulsed inside her, shifting up and down, gently nudging her just perfectly over and over and over again in a torturous tease. She could feel her core clutching at him, trying to keep him seated deep within her, as if he belonged there, as if it was his place. It didn’t escape her notice that he could feel her doing this to him, too, as his breath hissed out between his teeth, into her ear to tickle her and arouse her further.
She hated him so much. So exquisitely, especially, when he made her feel like this.
As her channel finally slickened to welcome him properly, Madara’s breathing became heavier, his lust taking over.
“Yes,” he growled, his pace picking up again. “That’s it.”
Madara shifted and dragged her flush up against his chest, his arms moving so that one hand caressed up her firm, lithe body to her pebbled mounds, the other slipping into the thatch of pink curls that seeped for him.
As his thumb found her button, he brushed it lightly, once, twice, three times, relishing in the way she thrashed against him, cursing him, fighting him even as her hips met his-finally, he thought victoriously-and her body responded to his, melting into his, meeting his rhythm for rhythm. Inside the electricity in her bloodstream crackled, building up and her vision went hazy, dizziness setting in all over again, this time for a different reason.
“You should participate more,” he whispered into her ear, ghosting his thumb and forefinger across her stiffening nipple, nibbling her throat lightly when she cried out with a sob. It was heady, how powerful he felt when he inflicted so much pleasure upon his little toy. “I think you’d enjoy this,” he punctuated the statement with a few taps against her clit, “more than you already do.”
“Fuck you,” she panted, trying to turn to glare at him even as he sank his fingers deeper into her, pushing harder against the button, rubbing the slick bud as it swelled with arousal. She hated him, hated him, hated him-the electricity spiked, her eyes shut tightly, her toes curled-
She swallowed her resulting wail-she would not give in to him-felt her own hips betraying her as they thrust forward to meet his hands greedily.
Oh gods, she was so close-
“Fuck me? Oh, already there, Sakura-chan,” he retorted, his voice was slightly amused. Then his eyes darkened, the lust, the urge to dominate her overwhelming him.
“Or, almost.”
It was his only warning as he snapped his hips forward-and pushed her forward, too, tightening the line around her throat so her airways were completely closed off.
The bed shook and banged the wall with his intensity, his entire focus now on Sakura and her body, the way she reacted to him, his hands teasing her distended nipples, her engorged pleasure-bud. When she suddenly stiffened, her back arching, he knew it would be any moment.
The colour of her face changing as she scrabbled to breathe, he saw her eyes fluttering, rolling back; her core grasped him, taking him even deeper inside her as she clenched around him, almost painfully, and milked him of everything he had.
When she came, she tried to scream but made not a sound.
But every muscle in her body corded and inside she unleashed a lightening storm. Light exploded behind her eyes and for a moment, Sakura forgot everything she was, who she was, what she was, who she was with. There was only that one glorious feeling, racing through her, all-encompassing, leaving nothing but white-hot pleasure behind.
Feeling every inch of himself suddenly buried to the hilt in her perfect velvet grasp, Madara cursed hotly against her shoulder, biting down with the dizzying explosion of their release.
It lasted, and he reveled in it. She was his match, his mate, his, in every way.
As he gripped her tightly around her middle, finishing himself off with a few final thrusts, he released the band around her beautiful throat, taking in the skin’s bruised and rubbed-red state as the tether drifted to the ground.
Now freed, Sakura gasped, greedily sucking in air and coughing as the coolness burned her abused throat.
Gradually, taking his time-and slowed by his own post-coital satisfaction-Madara released the bonds that restrained her hands and wrists, freeing her.
Too weak to do anything more than shudder with the aftershocks and relief that she was alive, Sakura lay there in his arms, trembling as he brought the blanket up over them both.
“You did well,” he murmured against her hair before shifting her in his arms so she lay half on top of him, her head cradled in his shoulder.
Still coughing occasionally, her heart beat finally slowing, Sakura closed her eyes and let him do as he pleased, too exhausted to more than simply breathe.
In time, he rubbed a hand gently up and down her back. Whether to soothe her or congratulate her, or even just re-assert his perverted, possessive claim on her, she never knew. Didn’t know what to do about it anymore at all, anyway. He’d taken over almost every aspect of her life, up to and including her intimacy.
Yes, she hated him. Hated him for what he did to her. Hated him for how he treated her. Hated him so much for the way he dominated her. Hated him even more for the fact he felt perfectly entitled to use her as he did.
Hated him most of all for how much she hated herself after their rounds of love making, for how she couldn’t hold back her reactions to him, how she enjoyed feeling trapped and dominated, how she knew he would never truly harm her beyond bruises she could heal herself (by now, in her sleep).
Yes, she hated him, so much. Especially for how he made her feel.
Which was absolutely…. She sighed, the air intensifying, however briefly, those delicious little aftershocks that ripped through her body again… incredible.
The bastard.
AN: I know *nothing* about breath play, and even less about canon!Madara. XD And we all know my lemon-skills need work, too. I’ve just been on a MadaSaku kick the past few days. Ignore this, it’s a rough. Just getting it out of my system. If I feel inclined later, I may go back and re-work it to something worth posting to aff.net. *needs work* I realise this, which is why this is getting backed-up here.
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing: Madara x Sakura
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Dub-Con ahoy! My take on ‘breath play’, and adult content ahead. Get your harassment-stick or popcorn ready, whatever floats your boat.
Length: Approx. 1500 words, give or take.
Disclaimer: Fic’s mine, characters belong to their rightful rights-holders.
She hated him. Hated him so much.
The band around her throat tightened, constricting her airways as he pushed her forward with his thrust; her heart rate sped up as her anxiety spiked, then faded as he rolled his hips back again, giving the strap just enough slack for her to gasp and catch her breath before he thrust forward again. Stretched her uncomfortably, inside and out.
Sakura felt his hot, moist breath against the curve of her neck as he leaned forward, his tongue tracing the elegant, sweat-dampened lines. From deep inside his chest he growled appreciatively when she shuddered, and the rumbling passed through her as he pressed himself to her back.
“Come closer,” he breathed, the words tickling her ear. “Or you’ll run out of air.”
She tried to turn her head away but the band tightened again, her logic desperately struggling to overcome her natural response, fear, which demanded she escape, or at least attempt to escape.
“No,” she croaked, her fingers clenching as they tried to form fists. Bound as they were, they were mostly useless, but she had to release the stress somehow.
His hands moved from her hips to rub up and down the insides of her thighs, teasing her, as he traced her jaw line with his nose. His dark hair brushed her cheek, and she stiffened further.
“A-way,” she tried to order him, but her voice was raspy.
With sensual ease he placed a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her jaw to her throat, before coming to rest his teeth lightly on her pulse.
She felt him smirk as he rolled his hips up, touching so deeply inside her her breath left her in a high-pitched gasp, his cock filling her so completely and hitting one of the most sensitive spots in her core that she shook with the intensity of the feeling.
It was then he tightened the line again, trapping her, forcing her to feel everything he did to her, the hot, moist air he breathed across her exposed chest, his firm, commanding hands on her inner thighs as they commanded she splay herself open further for him, the hard thickness that filled her, everything so intensely tears leaked from the corners of her eyes.
She hated him. So much. Hated him for making her feel so powerless.
“Air, please!” she tried to speak, her voice barely making a squeak as no air could pass through her vocal cords.
“Hmm? Was that a please?”
He released the line slightly, just enough for her to let her breath out, and she sagged back against him, unable to fight him much longer.
She was getting dizzy.
“Feeling more cooperative yet?”
With her lying against him so, finally submitting to him in some manner, his smirk grew. He enjoyed watching her breasts heaving as she tried to suck in air, as she trembled against him, as she closed her eyes and likely couldn’t think of anything but him in that moment.
But he wanted more.
Rolling his hips into hers more gently for a minute or so, he let her rest as he nuzzled her neck and hair.
“I like it when you fight back,” he murmured, nibbling his way up the shell of her ear, his heavy breathing setting off fireworks in her veins, no matter how hard she tried to deny it. Deny him.
Her thought processes were shutting down at his more gentle ministrations; the way his member pulsed inside her, shifting up and down, gently nudging her just perfectly over and over and over again in a torturous tease. She could feel her core clutching at him, trying to keep him seated deep within her, as if he belonged there, as if it was his place. It didn’t escape her notice that he could feel her doing this to him, too, as his breath hissed out between his teeth, into her ear to tickle her and arouse her further.
She hated him so much. So exquisitely, especially, when he made her feel like this.
As her channel finally slickened to welcome him properly, Madara’s breathing became heavier, his lust taking over.
“Yes,” he growled, his pace picking up again. “That’s it.”
Madara shifted and dragged her flush up against his chest, his arms moving so that one hand caressed up her firm, lithe body to her pebbled mounds, the other slipping into the thatch of pink curls that seeped for him.
As his thumb found her button, he brushed it lightly, once, twice, three times, relishing in the way she thrashed against him, cursing him, fighting him even as her hips met his-finally, he thought victoriously-and her body responded to his, melting into his, meeting his rhythm for rhythm. Inside the electricity in her bloodstream crackled, building up and her vision went hazy, dizziness setting in all over again, this time for a different reason.
“You should participate more,” he whispered into her ear, ghosting his thumb and forefinger across her stiffening nipple, nibbling her throat lightly when she cried out with a sob. It was heady, how powerful he felt when he inflicted so much pleasure upon his little toy. “I think you’d enjoy this,” he punctuated the statement with a few taps against her clit, “more than you already do.”
“Fuck you,” she panted, trying to turn to glare at him even as he sank his fingers deeper into her, pushing harder against the button, rubbing the slick bud as it swelled with arousal. She hated him, hated him, hated him-the electricity spiked, her eyes shut tightly, her toes curled-
She swallowed her resulting wail-she would not give in to him-felt her own hips betraying her as they thrust forward to meet his hands greedily.
Oh gods, she was so close-
“Fuck me? Oh, already there, Sakura-chan,” he retorted, his voice was slightly amused. Then his eyes darkened, the lust, the urge to dominate her overwhelming him.
“Or, almost.”
It was his only warning as he snapped his hips forward-and pushed her forward, too, tightening the line around her throat so her airways were completely closed off.
The bed shook and banged the wall with his intensity, his entire focus now on Sakura and her body, the way she reacted to him, his hands teasing her distended nipples, her engorged pleasure-bud. When she suddenly stiffened, her back arching, he knew it would be any moment.
The colour of her face changing as she scrabbled to breathe, he saw her eyes fluttering, rolling back; her core grasped him, taking him even deeper inside her as she clenched around him, almost painfully, and milked him of everything he had.
When she came, she tried to scream but made not a sound.
But every muscle in her body corded and inside she unleashed a lightening storm. Light exploded behind her eyes and for a moment, Sakura forgot everything she was, who she was, what she was, who she was with. There was only that one glorious feeling, racing through her, all-encompassing, leaving nothing but white-hot pleasure behind.
Feeling every inch of himself suddenly buried to the hilt in her perfect velvet grasp, Madara cursed hotly against her shoulder, biting down with the dizzying explosion of their release.
It lasted, and he reveled in it. She was his match, his mate, his, in every way.
As he gripped her tightly around her middle, finishing himself off with a few final thrusts, he released the band around her beautiful throat, taking in the skin’s bruised and rubbed-red state as the tether drifted to the ground.
Now freed, Sakura gasped, greedily sucking in air and coughing as the coolness burned her abused throat.
Gradually, taking his time-and slowed by his own post-coital satisfaction-Madara released the bonds that restrained her hands and wrists, freeing her.
Too weak to do anything more than shudder with the aftershocks and relief that she was alive, Sakura lay there in his arms, trembling as he brought the blanket up over them both.
“You did well,” he murmured against her hair before shifting her in his arms so she lay half on top of him, her head cradled in his shoulder.
Still coughing occasionally, her heart beat finally slowing, Sakura closed her eyes and let him do as he pleased, too exhausted to more than simply breathe.
In time, he rubbed a hand gently up and down her back. Whether to soothe her or congratulate her, or even just re-assert his perverted, possessive claim on her, she never knew. Didn’t know what to do about it anymore at all, anyway. He’d taken over almost every aspect of her life, up to and including her intimacy.
Yes, she hated him. Hated him for what he did to her. Hated him for how he treated her. Hated him so much for the way he dominated her. Hated him even more for the fact he felt perfectly entitled to use her as he did.
Hated him most of all for how much she hated herself after their rounds of love making, for how she couldn’t hold back her reactions to him, how she enjoyed feeling trapped and dominated, how she knew he would never truly harm her beyond bruises she could heal herself (by now, in her sleep).
Yes, she hated him, so much. Especially for how he made her feel.
Which was absolutely…. She sighed, the air intensifying, however briefly, those delicious little aftershocks that ripped through her body again… incredible.
The bastard.
AN: I know *nothing* about breath play, and even less about canon!Madara. XD And we all know my lemon-skills need work, too. I’ve just been on a MadaSaku kick the past few days. Ignore this, it’s a rough. Just getting it out of my system. If I feel inclined later, I may go back and re-work it to something worth posting to aff.net. *needs work* I realise this, which is why this is getting backed-up here.