Mature delicacies(?)
I think I am gonna stick with the petname n00b. +fufufu+
N00b Kat reporting... once more. >.>
I'm on a row. All thanks to the support I have been given here. :D (And a little three day vacation from my hectic work schedule.) Thank you everyone!
It's usually said that reviews make artists/writers work faster, right? Right. So true.
Now, onto the goods. Mature. Could be worse though.
Doubles: Art and Drabble. They are meant to be a pair~~ <3
Preview~~ (because I really don't know how comfortable some people might be with it, hence, better safe than sorry I guess :S )
Full picture can be found http://cleokat.deviantart.com/art/KakaSaku-Cherry-Blossom-Mask-183552364
The drabble was written mainly because, after finishing the pic I thought... 'Humm. It hints Sakura, but might be missunderstood. Have to take care of that.'
So, here it is!
Title: Cherry Blossom Mask
Word Count: 961
Rating: M
Pairing: Kakashi/Sakura
Summary: Sakura is suddenly struck with the workings of her treacherous mind.
____________________
It burns me. Like a spiderweb of emotions, hot, scalding, yet never enough. Just almost there, at the horizon. Still unreachable, just a little further. Please, just a little further...
I can feel the warm moistness that laves my silken lips, and sometimes my fingers, for I can’t keep them still. They tremble, and play, reveling in the sensations that shoot up my arm, eliciting goosebumps that tug on my skin, rise further and envelop the already swollen and sensitive mount, whose peak roughens more. Like an invisible caress of a lover, kneeding, teasing.
Pairing with the hot coil of desire that tightens, and almost snaps inside me, but never does.
I can’t... I can’t take it anymore. It’s so close. God, please, just a little further.
My legs are trembling, and a whimper escapes my lips.
My heart thumps against my ribcage: a wild bird trying to break free, wanting out.
Echoing in my ears, melting with little grunts (his?) and soft gasped moans. And his name, that leaves half in half raspy and moaned. That name, that my tongue follows, not only to wet my rapidly drying lips, but to follow the sweetness of it. His response reverberates against me and my back arches, pushing myself to him again, wordlessly begging for it to stop, to continue, faster, harder, oh God right there...!
His hand spread over my side, following the now pronounced curve of my back, for my taut muscles haven’t released the tension. My fingers, the ones delved in soft locks, tighten and loosen at fast intervals. The same as his caresses on me, and I swear the desperation of knowing that I am about to reach where he wants to take me is going to drive me insane.
He grunts again: I whimper and his hand rolled around my propped leg steels its hold as suddenly, all that I have been demanding and begging and wanting, and desperately trying to reach all but explodes- it rises, higher and higher in sensation, as my body undulates madly.
My breath ceases, my eyelids flutter, and close fiercely, my heart stutters, and that proverbial warm wet tongue of sheer bliss slides on the back of my brain, drowning my sense of self, the awareness of where I am, who I am. Like a strange reality where the only second you can recall is the one prior to the one you're experiencing now, annulling yet chanting what I am, and what I feel. For as paradoxical as it might sound.
In that reality, where words are not needed nor cared for, one still rises, echoes inside my mind.
I do not fall from the peak, I slide, and my lungs grasp for the air they are starving for.
And suddenly, as the primal want that had commanded all my attention is no longer an objective, my consciousness provides again that name. The one I chanted between moans and whimpers, the one I am sure I yelled, for my throat feels raspy and dry.
“Kakashi...” It slips between my lips, now with my full awareness. My eyes snap down, my heart still thumps, and I am met with a pair of mismatched eyes staring back at me. Between the nest of my legs.
.
.
.
.
My eyes snap open, to the familiar view of my ceiling, sliding almost dizzily to the wall of my room as I rise on the bed, my elbow propping my torso up. My breath is still ragged, my pulse is still racing, and my eyes are still wide open, as my hand clenches on my shirt close to my heart.
“Kakashi...?” I say again breathlessly, fearfully, confused.
The imagery of that look, that half lidded look staring at me is burnt inside mind’s eye, and I feel my cheeks heating up to the point of it being uncomfortable. My hearts stutters.
Holy...First... Second... Third and Fourth.
Talk about MAC truck realisations.
I just had the most spectacular wet dream.
With my sensei.
My eyes widen more.
“Oh God.” I can’t even tag the tone of my voice. It’s something between shame, mortification and plain incredulity.
‘Ok, calm down Sakura, think!’ I prompt my hectic brain.
Ok, it’s normal to have erotic dreams, especially since I have been quite celibate the past year.
But... Kakashi? Seriously, Kakashi?
He’s fourteen years my senior, and my team leader!
He’s... He’s Kakashi-sensei for Pete’s sake!
Plus, he’s a pervert!... Always reading those novels... But he doesn’t act like a pervert. He’s actually quite respectful... And he’s not my sensei anymore, hasn’t been for the last ten years give or take.
And he is nice to me when it matters...
And he is kind of cute, even with that mask. And fit, I know, I’ve seen him bare-chested once in a mixed onsen in one of our missions. Ok, all ninja have to be somewhat fit, but his are really... chiseled. Not too much, a perfect balance. Humm...
Blink, blink.
Oh no. Am I seriously mentally drooling over him?!
What the hell!!! This reasoning is so not helping me.
Still in shock (in various levels by now), still looking unseeingly at my messed bed-covers, a single realisation pops into my hectic line of thought for a second, making me blink again and ripping a little gruff laugh from me. And then another one. And then full fledged laughter.
All my worries of the dream, and the obvious lusting after the man in my head, and the dream, oh damn that dream, are put on hold, as I let the stress of the last couple of minutes leave me in that oh! so liberating way.
“Oh my God...” I keep laughing, unable to stop. “Even when dreaming of him, that bastard has his damned face covered!!!”
_________________
It can also be found on http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6417681/1/Cherry_Blossom_Mask
And that's it for now! N00b out. +salutes+
N00b Kat reporting... once more. >.>
I'm on a row. All thanks to the support I have been given here. :D (And a little three day vacation from my hectic work schedule.) Thank you everyone!
It's usually said that reviews make artists/writers work faster, right? Right. So true.
Now, onto the goods. Mature. Could be worse though.
Doubles: Art and Drabble. They are meant to be a pair~~ <3
Preview~~ (because I really don't know how comfortable some people might be with it, hence, better safe than sorry I guess :S )
Full picture can be found http://cleokat.deviantart.com/art/KakaSaku-Cherry-Blossom-Mask-183552364
The drabble was written mainly because, after finishing the pic I thought... 'Humm. It hints Sakura, but might be missunderstood. Have to take care of that.'
So, here it is!
Title: Cherry Blossom Mask
Word Count: 961
Rating: M
Pairing: Kakashi/Sakura
Summary: Sakura is suddenly struck with the workings of her treacherous mind.
____________________
It burns me. Like a spiderweb of emotions, hot, scalding, yet never enough. Just almost there, at the horizon. Still unreachable, just a little further. Please, just a little further...
I can feel the warm moistness that laves my silken lips, and sometimes my fingers, for I can’t keep them still. They tremble, and play, reveling in the sensations that shoot up my arm, eliciting goosebumps that tug on my skin, rise further and envelop the already swollen and sensitive mount, whose peak roughens more. Like an invisible caress of a lover, kneeding, teasing.
Pairing with the hot coil of desire that tightens, and almost snaps inside me, but never does.
I can’t... I can’t take it anymore. It’s so close. God, please, just a little further.
My legs are trembling, and a whimper escapes my lips.
My heart thumps against my ribcage: a wild bird trying to break free, wanting out.
Echoing in my ears, melting with little grunts (his?) and soft gasped moans. And his name, that leaves half in half raspy and moaned. That name, that my tongue follows, not only to wet my rapidly drying lips, but to follow the sweetness of it. His response reverberates against me and my back arches, pushing myself to him again, wordlessly begging for it to stop, to continue, faster, harder, oh God right there...!
His hand spread over my side, following the now pronounced curve of my back, for my taut muscles haven’t released the tension. My fingers, the ones delved in soft locks, tighten and loosen at fast intervals. The same as his caresses on me, and I swear the desperation of knowing that I am about to reach where he wants to take me is going to drive me insane.
He grunts again: I whimper and his hand rolled around my propped leg steels its hold as suddenly, all that I have been demanding and begging and wanting, and desperately trying to reach all but explodes- it rises, higher and higher in sensation, as my body undulates madly.
My breath ceases, my eyelids flutter, and close fiercely, my heart stutters, and that proverbial warm wet tongue of sheer bliss slides on the back of my brain, drowning my sense of self, the awareness of where I am, who I am. Like a strange reality where the only second you can recall is the one prior to the one you're experiencing now, annulling yet chanting what I am, and what I feel. For as paradoxical as it might sound.
In that reality, where words are not needed nor cared for, one still rises, echoes inside my mind.
I do not fall from the peak, I slide, and my lungs grasp for the air they are starving for.
And suddenly, as the primal want that had commanded all my attention is no longer an objective, my consciousness provides again that name. The one I chanted between moans and whimpers, the one I am sure I yelled, for my throat feels raspy and dry.
“Kakashi...” It slips between my lips, now with my full awareness. My eyes snap down, my heart still thumps, and I am met with a pair of mismatched eyes staring back at me. Between the nest of my legs.
.
.
.
.
My eyes snap open, to the familiar view of my ceiling, sliding almost dizzily to the wall of my room as I rise on the bed, my elbow propping my torso up. My breath is still ragged, my pulse is still racing, and my eyes are still wide open, as my hand clenches on my shirt close to my heart.
“Kakashi...?” I say again breathlessly, fearfully, confused.
The imagery of that look, that half lidded look staring at me is burnt inside mind’s eye, and I feel my cheeks heating up to the point of it being uncomfortable. My hearts stutters.
Holy...First... Second... Third and Fourth.
Talk about MAC truck realisations.
I just had the most spectacular wet dream.
With my sensei.
My eyes widen more.
“Oh God.” I can’t even tag the tone of my voice. It’s something between shame, mortification and plain incredulity.
‘Ok, calm down Sakura, think!’ I prompt my hectic brain.
Ok, it’s normal to have erotic dreams, especially since I have been quite celibate the past year.
But... Kakashi? Seriously, Kakashi?
He’s fourteen years my senior, and my team leader!
He’s... He’s Kakashi-sensei for Pete’s sake!
Plus, he’s a pervert!... Always reading those novels... But he doesn’t act like a pervert. He’s actually quite respectful... And he’s not my sensei anymore, hasn’t been for the last ten years give or take.
And he is nice to me when it matters...
And he is kind of cute, even with that mask. And fit, I know, I’ve seen him bare-chested once in a mixed onsen in one of our missions. Ok, all ninja have to be somewhat fit, but his are really... chiseled. Not too much, a perfect balance. Humm...
Blink, blink.
Oh no. Am I seriously mentally drooling over him?!
What the hell!!! This reasoning is so not helping me.
Still in shock (in various levels by now), still looking unseeingly at my messed bed-covers, a single realisation pops into my hectic line of thought for a second, making me blink again and ripping a little gruff laugh from me. And then another one. And then full fledged laughter.
All my worries of the dream, and the obvious lusting after the man in my head, and the dream, oh damn that dream, are put on hold, as I let the stress of the last couple of minutes leave me in that oh! so liberating way.
“Oh my God...” I keep laughing, unable to stop. “Even when dreaming of him, that bastard has his damned face covered!!!”
_________________
It can also be found on http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6417681/1/Cherry_Blossom_Mask
And that's it for now! N00b out. +salutes+