"enough" [prompt bingo challenge ★ karneval]
title: Enough
rating: M, for fairly explicit sexual themes
prompt: permission
word count: 1223
summary: Whatever intimate warmth that existed within him was not meant for her, nor did she think it would ever be. Just being at his side and being trusted by him would be enough for her, meaningless fantasies about a voice that would be unusually soft when filled with the utmost tenderness for no one but her and intimacy and warmth be damned.
notes: not enough tsukumo porn - that's my story and i'm sticking to it. also i needed smut practice dont judge me bro
.enough.
Click.
The door slid shut.
Click.
She turned the lock with unusually shaky fingers.
She hadn’t taken the rest of the day off like he had so seemingly gently asked her to.
Instead she had spent the day training every bit as hard as usual, for she had to work hard to be allowed to stay with him. If she was deemed to be too weak, she would be forced to part with him and that… Well. That would break her heart, for she had not worked harder than anyone had known she could only to slack off. No, she had done it all for him, for a chance to be by his side.
Right from the very beginning of her studies, everything she had done had been for him.
Her training was an easy way to pretend that her stomach didn’t fill up with a fluttery sensation when he had greeted her that morning before going off on another secretive mission, that her cheeks didn’t heat up so easily whenever he pointed out a mistake she made (or more truthfully, whenever he simply was around), that she didn’t care far more strongly than she was supposed to care about her Commander.
His easy sensuality and charm was to blame. There was no one she trusted more than him, no one she desperately longed to impress and please more than the man who had saved her all those years ago and who now affected her in completely new and foreign ways, and just how could she, a young girl now all grown up and secretly overflowing with hormones underneath her seemingly immovable calmness, not fantasize about being with such a man?
Slowly she moved across the floor to sit on her bed. Perhaps it was because of her inappropriate feelings that she felt so incredibly guilty about what she had dreamt about last night.
Eyes that were a most brilliant shade of dark violet focused on nothing but her, that charming smile that made her feel weak in the knees when it was directed at her, heated bodies and a rush of tender need and mutual desire.
A pooling heat that was warm like molten lead already gathered in her belly and it only seemed to grow even hotter with every heartbeat, every second spent thinking about that dream. She only had to picture that large, warm hand and her fingers were already pulling her shorts down along with her panties (a simple white pair, almost shamefully plain).
A few more flashes of images of intimate embraces, of searching caresses that elicited gasps and muted moans, and her delicate fingers were trailing down below her waist to brush against the fine little triangle of golden hairs that lay there.
Vaguely ashamed with her hand having slipped down to her thighs, she stilled suddenly, peculiarly ashamed as she eyed the door for barely a second, then swiftly looked away from it as though someone stood there, as though she had been caught while doing something this incredibly shameful. How ridiculous of her. The door was locked, Tsukumo was sure of that for she had checked if the door was properly locked not just once or twice but far more times than she actually needed to guarantee herself privacy. Even if the door hadn’t been locked and someone had walked in on her this very second, how could they ever tell what she was thinking about, how could they ever see what was going on inside her mind?
Despite her attempts to reassure herself a part of her knew that perhaps he would be able to tell if he was actually standing there. He would shoot her a knowing glance, there would be an even more knowing smile splayed on those sharply handsome features, the slightest smug upward curl of his lips.
His kiss would be generous.
His lips would brush her cheek, the lobe of her ear, move down in a slow and warm trail of light kisses down the silky, woefully vulnerable skin of her throat. Perhaps even nibbling and leaving marks…
The blush on her cheeks darkened, turned into a rich hue just a shade or two lighter than a plump cherry.
Her fingers were once more brushing against her thi-
No.
They were no longer her fingers. In her mind the fingers brushing against the inside of her thighs, moving higher and higher and higher were not her own clumsily inexperienced ones, but longer and thicker and calloused and far more skilled. It was his fingers that dug lightly into the furrow of her labia and her hand merely rested on top of his and that was why she felt her own rapidly growing slipperiness and heat.
So sensitive, how had she gotten this… This heated already?
His fingers would be digging into the firm curve of her ass at first and knead, her own tightening in his hair, her nails then raking down over his shoulder blades as he would look at only her, those dark violet eyes would meet her own (a few shades lighter than his) as he would finally drive his cock oh, did she really just so far into her that her buttocks would be crushed beneath his hips. He would press against her forehead, her tongue, her taut belly - she would willingly drown and completely lose herself in his warmth, in the taste, the feel, the smell of him.
“A-ah…”
Though she bit her lip to stay quiet (oh gods, what if someone heard her) a needy whimpering noise escaped and it spilled thickly into the silent darkness of her bedroom.
I-I…
Fingers rubbing quick and light at the all the right spots with occasional soft and wet noises, the sensation of him filling her, opening her up almost too much all at once, moving inside of her--
“Hirato…”
She pushed her hips up against her handagainst him in her fiery intense need and promptly fell apart right then and there. Quivering, shaking violently, quivering again, her mouth opened and she could not contain her soft moaning any longer, her back arching as much as she could muster and her free arm grasped at nothing, grasped at what was but an image conjured up by her own imagination.
Normally that not so sudden realization would have stung somewhat but in her thoroughly exhausted and spent saturation of pleasure, Tsukumo paid it no mind.
She sprawled on her back under the covers, still breathing hard and feeling overheated.
This was so wrong.
A subordinate should not think about her commander in that way.
It was silly and pointless. Whatever intimate warmth that existed deep within him was not meant for her, nor did she think it would ever be. Just being at his side and being trusted by him would be enough for her, meaningless fantasies about a voice that would be unusually soft when filled with the utmost tenderness for no one but her and intimacy and warmth be damned. Logic demanded that she would need to bury any semblance of stronger feelings toward him, lock it all away deep inside her to prevent it from ever putting her position at his side in danger.
This was enough. This had to be enough.
Because it was all she could ever hope for anyway, wasn’t it.
rating: M, for fairly explicit sexual themes
prompt: permission
word count: 1223
summary: Whatever intimate warmth that existed within him was not meant for her, nor did she think it would ever be. Just being at his side and being trusted by him would be enough for her, meaningless fantasies about a voice that would be unusually soft when filled with the utmost tenderness for no one but her and intimacy and warmth be damned.
notes: not enough tsukumo porn - that's my story and i'm sticking to it. also i needed smut practice dont judge me bro
.enough.
Click.
The door slid shut.
Click.
She turned the lock with unusually shaky fingers.
She hadn’t taken the rest of the day off like he had so seemingly gently asked her to.
Instead she had spent the day training every bit as hard as usual, for she had to work hard to be allowed to stay with him. If she was deemed to be too weak, she would be forced to part with him and that… Well. That would break her heart, for she had not worked harder than anyone had known she could only to slack off. No, she had done it all for him, for a chance to be by his side.
Right from the very beginning of her studies, everything she had done had been for him.
Her training was an easy way to pretend that her stomach didn’t fill up with a fluttery sensation when he had greeted her that morning before going off on another secretive mission, that her cheeks didn’t heat up so easily whenever he pointed out a mistake she made (or more truthfully, whenever he simply was around), that she didn’t care far more strongly than she was supposed to care about her Commander.
His easy sensuality and charm was to blame. There was no one she trusted more than him, no one she desperately longed to impress and please more than the man who had saved her all those years ago and who now affected her in completely new and foreign ways, and just how could she, a young girl now all grown up and secretly overflowing with hormones underneath her seemingly immovable calmness, not fantasize about being with such a man?
Slowly she moved across the floor to sit on her bed. Perhaps it was because of her inappropriate feelings that she felt so incredibly guilty about what she had dreamt about last night.
Eyes that were a most brilliant shade of dark violet focused on nothing but her, that charming smile that made her feel weak in the knees when it was directed at her, heated bodies and a rush of tender need and mutual desire.
A pooling heat that was warm like molten lead already gathered in her belly and it only seemed to grow even hotter with every heartbeat, every second spent thinking about that dream. She only had to picture that large, warm hand and her fingers were already pulling her shorts down along with her panties (a simple white pair, almost shamefully plain).
A few more flashes of images of intimate embraces, of searching caresses that elicited gasps and muted moans, and her delicate fingers were trailing down below her waist to brush against the fine little triangle of golden hairs that lay there.
Vaguely ashamed with her hand having slipped down to her thighs, she stilled suddenly, peculiarly ashamed as she eyed the door for barely a second, then swiftly looked away from it as though someone stood there, as though she had been caught while doing something this incredibly shameful. How ridiculous of her. The door was locked, Tsukumo was sure of that for she had checked if the door was properly locked not just once or twice but far more times than she actually needed to guarantee herself privacy. Even if the door hadn’t been locked and someone had walked in on her this very second, how could they ever tell what she was thinking about, how could they ever see what was going on inside her mind?
Despite her attempts to reassure herself a part of her knew that perhaps he would be able to tell if he was actually standing there. He would shoot her a knowing glance, there would be an even more knowing smile splayed on those sharply handsome features, the slightest smug upward curl of his lips.
His kiss would be generous.
His lips would brush her cheek, the lobe of her ear, move down in a slow and warm trail of light kisses down the silky, woefully vulnerable skin of her throat. Perhaps even nibbling and leaving marks…
The blush on her cheeks darkened, turned into a rich hue just a shade or two lighter than a plump cherry.
Her fingers were once more brushing against her thi-
No.
They were no longer her fingers. In her mind the fingers brushing against the inside of her thighs, moving higher and higher and higher were not her own clumsily inexperienced ones, but longer and thicker and calloused and far more skilled. It was his fingers that dug lightly into the furrow of her labia and her hand merely rested on top of his and that was why she felt her own rapidly growing slipperiness and heat.
So sensitive, how had she gotten this… This heated already?
His fingers would be digging into the firm curve of her ass at first and knead, her own tightening in his hair, her nails then raking down over his shoulder blades as he would look at only her, those dark violet eyes would meet her own (a few shades lighter than his) as he would finally drive his cock oh, did she really just so far into her that her buttocks would be crushed beneath his hips. He would press against her forehead, her tongue, her taut belly - she would willingly drown and completely lose herself in his warmth, in the taste, the feel, the smell of him.
“A-ah…”
Though she bit her lip to stay quiet (oh gods, what if someone heard her) a needy whimpering noise escaped and it spilled thickly into the silent darkness of her bedroom.
I-I…
Fingers rubbing quick and light at the all the right spots with occasional soft and wet noises, the sensation of him filling her, opening her up almost too much all at once, moving inside of her--
“Hirato…”
She pushed her hips up against her handagainst him in her fiery intense need and promptly fell apart right then and there. Quivering, shaking violently, quivering again, her mouth opened and she could not contain her soft moaning any longer, her back arching as much as she could muster and her free arm grasped at nothing, grasped at what was but an image conjured up by her own imagination.
Normally that not so sudden realization would have stung somewhat but in her thoroughly exhausted and spent saturation of pleasure, Tsukumo paid it no mind.
She sprawled on her back under the covers, still breathing hard and feeling overheated.
This was so wrong.
A subordinate should not think about her commander in that way.
It was silly and pointless. Whatever intimate warmth that existed deep within him was not meant for her, nor did she think it would ever be. Just being at his side and being trusted by him would be enough for her, meaningless fantasies about a voice that would be unusually soft when filled with the utmost tenderness for no one but her and intimacy and warmth be damned. Logic demanded that she would need to bury any semblance of stronger feelings toward him, lock it all away deep inside her to prevent it from ever putting her position at his side in danger.
This was enough. This had to be enough.
Because it was all she could ever hope for anyway, wasn’t it.