[fanfic] What's in There?
Title: What's in There?
(very unimaginative title *sigh*)
Fandom: DOGS
Characters: Badou, Naoto, some Nil. and Heine.
Disclaimer: Miwa Shirow and someone who posted the kink XDD
Rate: M for nudity
What's in There?
The sound of gunshot died, yet the battle wasn't about to end. To Badou's ears, the music died already.
He glanced at his partner -it's Naoto this time- kicking the last man's pointing gun. He hoped she remembered what they were ordered this time. No survivors. It was a short and clear order, as if it was to doubt the blade maiden's mercilessness. He saw a quick reflection of her favorite weapon, and he knew what came next. Blood splashed the gunpowder-smelled air, leaving red stains on her short black hair.
Badou saw her sitting next to her last victim. What was she doing? Comforting him in his last seconds of life? Now that’s he never saw from the albino gunman.
“Amen,” he said as he approached the lethal lady.
She didn’t respond. Badou didn’t mind, for he found something more interesting than that. Her shirt was slightly ripped, yet the small hole revealed her cleavage. Clear enough for Badou to see stream of blood running through a river-like pathway. Blood seems to gather in one point before it flows downward, trailing under her breasts in opposite direction. So small a hole, so much information. Yet, Badou demanded more.
“What’s this-“ he slid his fingers in the small hole, trying to reveal more information underneath.
Tip of Naoto’s knife on his eye-patch was the answer.
“Easy with that knife, girl. I don’t mean to molest you.”
“Neither do I,” came the cold answer.
Badou approached the knife bearer, his fingers trailed the riverbed underneath her shirt. Naoto’s knife trailed his right eyebrow, then rest his temple, tip pointed right into his dysfunctional eye.
“What’s in here?” asked Badou.
“What’s in here?” her reply resembled an echo with knife tip moved further to where his right eyeball had been.
“There’s nothing in there,” he whispered as his fingers kept tracing the riverbed on her chest, making the hole bigger.
“Really?” she whispered to him, for they were now only inches away.
Her knife tip left a small dot on the skin underneath his eye-patch. A real threat for Badou, but he didn’t twitch, nor did he retract his fingers from Naoto’s chest. He didn’t think the girl would retract either.
Slash!
One quick movement of her knife cut his eye-patch string, left his scar-full eyelid exposed.
He’s been embarrassed by that damn right eye twice. Once, when he lost it. Twice, when she pulled his eye-patch. That’s enough. That’s more than enough.
“Well, there you see it. Now let me see yours,” Badou commanded. In despair, of course.
“Not so fast, pervy,” she replied in heavy voice.
Was that voice or her fixed eyes on his dysfunctional eye that made him… well, he could not be aroused by that masculine girl, could he?
Just when he thought his genital organ was safe down there, he saw her face moving toward his. He could smell her skin, a mixture of sweat and blood, just like his own. Was she about to kiss him? His healthy eye shut, trying to drive the thought away. Then he felt something wet touched his dead eye.
Naoto was licking every inch of his scar-full eyelid. Her tongue tip drew the map of his scar line. Her hand on her knife hilt pressed against the back of his head. Her breasts slowly touched his jaws. Up and down, down and up, making a synchronous movement with her tongue. His hand could do nothing but to grab them.
“Well, there is something in here,” Naoto said as she pulled her body away, leaving her knife at his dead eye.
“Yeah,” he responded, hand reluctantly moved away from her breasts. “What’s in there? Come on. You’ve seen mine,” he pouted.
Naoto was being generous. She pulled up her shirt, revealing small white breasts smeared with blood. What felt like a riverbed for Badou’s finger turned out to be two large scars, deep and long cut from top to opposite under side of her breasts. So iconic. So beautifully carved. Both lines seem wanting to break her breasts away.
Badou couldn’t help but to trace them once again. No wonder Naoto loves katana and blade so much. A masterpiece of katana’s work is imprinted on her skin.
“Who gave this to you?” Badou asked.
“I don’t remember.” Her voice was almost a whisper. “I thought he’s dead, but now I’m not sure.”
“He knows how to hurt a woman’s pride.” His thumb gently brushed the suppleness of her breast. “He surely does.”
“So does he,” said her knife to his dead eye. “He knows how to hurt a man’s pride.”
“No, ma’am.” Badou’s lips curled upward, “My manhood is still intact.”
“Ah,” Naoto made a disappointed tone. “Really? Let her check,” she commanded her blade.
Badou felt the heat rose under his belly when a cold object rubbed his zip-cover. “She called the knife her. She called the masculine thing her,” Badou thought. He shouldn’t have thought about it, for it made his hand squeeze her breast and his cock hardened.
Less than ten seconds passed. Badou’s hand was still holding her breast. Naoto’s knife has made its way of ripping the front part of his jeans. Her pinky finger has slid through his briefs, trying to expose what was covered by the fabric, little by little.
“Hm. Seems you’re quite honest with your words, mister,” she said. Her pinky didn’t seem to agree, though. It pulled the fabric that covered Badou’s most sensitive part with all its might. It succeeded at last.
“I hate to say this. But I agree with you, Badou. This,” she pointed the tip of her knife at his half-erected cock, “is quite intact.”
Click.
“Now what’s the point of pointing gun at my head, Badou?”
Badou hated that voice, that casual tone of her. She’s the most emotional among the four assassins. If one is allowed to cry during battle, it must be her. Then why was she so casual when her death is only one click away? Yet he didn’t mention her knife fiddling with his cock.
“What’s the point of … whatever you are doing… ,” Badou managed not to gasp, “Just get that damn thing away from my… or I’ll---“
“Blow my brains away?” she completed his sentence. “Go ahead. I’ll be dead, of course. But this pride of yours,” the coldness of her knife caressed his warm member, “won’t be this pretty anymore.”
Damn, she’s right. Any sudden movement of her could make that damn knife cut the life of his beloved ‘little brother’. No, he’s not going to take that risk.
Then do something about it! The tiny Badou inside his head kicked his brain. Grab that fucking knife! The tiny Badou stomped his half-working brain. It only made it worse. His hand still held the gun, pointing at her temple. The other hand, as one could expect from Badou, was still on her breasts, mimicking the circular movement of her knife at his cock. The right combination for killing the last piece of his sense. Even the thought of cigarette wasn’t there anymore.
“He really is a stupid man,” Naoto continued. “This is absolutely intact. I mean, if he really wanted to crush your pride, at least he could… well! Look, it even functions.”
Badou may only have one eye left, but the eye was never wrong. This time, that good eye told him the expression that Naoto made during her knife game. It wasn’t an expression of aroused girl. It was more like an expression of a girl opening her birthday present. An ancient katana, for Naoto’s case. It seemed like she want to plug it out, slide it into the sheath and carry it in her belt. It seemed like she want to wear it.
She didn’t touch it with her bare hand. Not even with one finger. Neither did she seem to want to. And don’t forget the fact that her breasts were massaged by a man’s hand. Badou knew it. It was even clearer now. Naoto is a dyke.
“Don’t get mad at him, Badou. Not now. What’s over is over, hum?” her knife pat his proud cock gently, “you’re not suppose to be this …” and tapping it a little harder, “… stiff.”
Badou jerked at that.
“She must be the one who kissed Nil’s little neck, making her wear turtle-neck gothic dress the next morning. And that tiny tongue of Nil must have traced the scars on her breasts while her fingers fiddling her tight pussy. That blind bishop couldn’t see them scissoring in her room, or even better, on the church floor. No, not under the chairs where parish sat. It was right on the front of the altar. And they…”
“Look, it’s getting longer and longer!” Naoto whispered, “Is that normal? I mean, being this long---“
“… hold each other tight. Tits against tits, nipples brush nipples. Her fingers caress Nil’s inner thighs while her other hand…”
“Shit! It’s even longer than my knife!”
Badou wasn’t aware of what his lesbian thought did to his ‘little brother’. Yes. That very brother grew bigger and longer, and prouder than ever. Naoto was right. He could see her knife was a little shorter when they were standing side by side. As Badou could expect from Naoto, he heard her say,
“I wish it was a knife.”
That’s it. That’s enough. Building Pisa Tower took a great pain. And so did his manhood tower. Being this big and this hard was aching. It ached like hell. It needed more than just the touch of a knife.
“Do something about it, woman!” He pushed the gun at her temple.
“About what?” She looked into his eye with her innocent look.
Damn, the eyes! How could she look more innocent than Nil? Oh, she’s so dyke. God, he wanted to fuck her now.
“Th-this,” his eye commanded her to look at his cock, “do…it!” He wasn’t sure what he meant with ‘it’. His mind had gone somewhere else.
“Oh,” Naoto whispered, “I knew there’s something … not normal here,” she pointed the tip of his cock with her knife, “maybe I should call a doctor.”
“No!” he almost yelled.
“No?”
“Just spread your legs and hop on me! Talk dirty. Scream my name. Throw that fucking knife away. Rip your pants. Lick my… wait! Rip and throw your knife… oh whatever. Just…“
“By the way,” Naoto said with analyzing tone.
“Rape me.”
“I think you should shave, Mr. Nails.”
.............. Later that night .............
Heine was startled at unusual greeting from two persons who entered Buono Viaggio.
“Hi, Heine.”
Two voices, man’s and woman’s , with very different tone made him turn his head to them. The woman had broad smile on her face. It’s not like her at all. The man had a grumpy face as always. But this time there was something different. His hand held the front ends of his jacket tightly, as if he kept a blood diamond in his crotch.
The man sat next to Heine. The white haired man was curious at this strange situation. Let me remind you something: nothing can make Heine curious. I mean, he thinks, a lot perhaps. But he’s never curious. Yeah, he’s no fun. Definitely no fun.
“Badou…” he began.
“Don’t ask,” Badou spat.
Heine didn’t give up. He scooped his pocket for a half-pack of cigarette. He pulled out one and waved it right in front of Badou’s nose. The red-haired didn’t move. His eye was gazing at nowhere.
“I will never ever, ever, ever partner her again,” he muttered in his thought for another hundred times.
~ that's all, folks ~
ps:
for someone who post this:
Badou/Naoto: Involving their scars. Maybe something akin to reluctance on one's part because of them, if you please ♥
you are responsible for making me fall for this pairing. and I shall take revenge! ♥♥♥
(very unimaginative title *sigh*)
Fandom: DOGS
Characters: Badou, Naoto, some Nil. and Heine.
Disclaimer: Miwa Shirow and someone who posted the kink XDD
Rate: M for nudity
What's in There?
The sound of gunshot died, yet the battle wasn't about to end. To Badou's ears, the music died already.
He glanced at his partner -it's Naoto this time- kicking the last man's pointing gun. He hoped she remembered what they were ordered this time. No survivors. It was a short and clear order, as if it was to doubt the blade maiden's mercilessness. He saw a quick reflection of her favorite weapon, and he knew what came next. Blood splashed the gunpowder-smelled air, leaving red stains on her short black hair.
Badou saw her sitting next to her last victim. What was she doing? Comforting him in his last seconds of life? Now that’s he never saw from the albino gunman.
“Amen,” he said as he approached the lethal lady.
She didn’t respond. Badou didn’t mind, for he found something more interesting than that. Her shirt was slightly ripped, yet the small hole revealed her cleavage. Clear enough for Badou to see stream of blood running through a river-like pathway. Blood seems to gather in one point before it flows downward, trailing under her breasts in opposite direction. So small a hole, so much information. Yet, Badou demanded more.
“What’s this-“ he slid his fingers in the small hole, trying to reveal more information underneath.
Tip of Naoto’s knife on his eye-patch was the answer.
“Easy with that knife, girl. I don’t mean to molest you.”
“Neither do I,” came the cold answer.
Badou approached the knife bearer, his fingers trailed the riverbed underneath her shirt. Naoto’s knife trailed his right eyebrow, then rest his temple, tip pointed right into his dysfunctional eye.
“What’s in here?” asked Badou.
“What’s in here?” her reply resembled an echo with knife tip moved further to where his right eyeball had been.
“There’s nothing in there,” he whispered as his fingers kept tracing the riverbed on her chest, making the hole bigger.
“Really?” she whispered to him, for they were now only inches away.
Her knife tip left a small dot on the skin underneath his eye-patch. A real threat for Badou, but he didn’t twitch, nor did he retract his fingers from Naoto’s chest. He didn’t think the girl would retract either.
Slash!
One quick movement of her knife cut his eye-patch string, left his scar-full eyelid exposed.
He’s been embarrassed by that damn right eye twice. Once, when he lost it. Twice, when she pulled his eye-patch. That’s enough. That’s more than enough.
“Well, there you see it. Now let me see yours,” Badou commanded. In despair, of course.
“Not so fast, pervy,” she replied in heavy voice.
Was that voice or her fixed eyes on his dysfunctional eye that made him… well, he could not be aroused by that masculine girl, could he?
Just when he thought his genital organ was safe down there, he saw her face moving toward his. He could smell her skin, a mixture of sweat and blood, just like his own. Was she about to kiss him? His healthy eye shut, trying to drive the thought away. Then he felt something wet touched his dead eye.
Naoto was licking every inch of his scar-full eyelid. Her tongue tip drew the map of his scar line. Her hand on her knife hilt pressed against the back of his head. Her breasts slowly touched his jaws. Up and down, down and up, making a synchronous movement with her tongue. His hand could do nothing but to grab them.
“Well, there is something in here,” Naoto said as she pulled her body away, leaving her knife at his dead eye.
“Yeah,” he responded, hand reluctantly moved away from her breasts. “What’s in there? Come on. You’ve seen mine,” he pouted.
Naoto was being generous. She pulled up her shirt, revealing small white breasts smeared with blood. What felt like a riverbed for Badou’s finger turned out to be two large scars, deep and long cut from top to opposite under side of her breasts. So iconic. So beautifully carved. Both lines seem wanting to break her breasts away.
Badou couldn’t help but to trace them once again. No wonder Naoto loves katana and blade so much. A masterpiece of katana’s work is imprinted on her skin.
“Who gave this to you?” Badou asked.
“I don’t remember.” Her voice was almost a whisper. “I thought he’s dead, but now I’m not sure.”
“He knows how to hurt a woman’s pride.” His thumb gently brushed the suppleness of her breast. “He surely does.”
“So does he,” said her knife to his dead eye. “He knows how to hurt a man’s pride.”
“No, ma’am.” Badou’s lips curled upward, “My manhood is still intact.”
“Ah,” Naoto made a disappointed tone. “Really? Let her check,” she commanded her blade.
Badou felt the heat rose under his belly when a cold object rubbed his zip-cover. “She called the knife her. She called the masculine thing her,” Badou thought. He shouldn’t have thought about it, for it made his hand squeeze her breast and his cock hardened.
Less than ten seconds passed. Badou’s hand was still holding her breast. Naoto’s knife has made its way of ripping the front part of his jeans. Her pinky finger has slid through his briefs, trying to expose what was covered by the fabric, little by little.
“Hm. Seems you’re quite honest with your words, mister,” she said. Her pinky didn’t seem to agree, though. It pulled the fabric that covered Badou’s most sensitive part with all its might. It succeeded at last.
“I hate to say this. But I agree with you, Badou. This,” she pointed the tip of her knife at his half-erected cock, “is quite intact.”
Click.
“Now what’s the point of pointing gun at my head, Badou?”
Badou hated that voice, that casual tone of her. She’s the most emotional among the four assassins. If one is allowed to cry during battle, it must be her. Then why was she so casual when her death is only one click away? Yet he didn’t mention her knife fiddling with his cock.
“What’s the point of … whatever you are doing… ,” Badou managed not to gasp, “Just get that damn thing away from my… or I’ll---“
“Blow my brains away?” she completed his sentence. “Go ahead. I’ll be dead, of course. But this pride of yours,” the coldness of her knife caressed his warm member, “won’t be this pretty anymore.”
Damn, she’s right. Any sudden movement of her could make that damn knife cut the life of his beloved ‘little brother’. No, he’s not going to take that risk.
Then do something about it! The tiny Badou inside his head kicked his brain. Grab that fucking knife! The tiny Badou stomped his half-working brain. It only made it worse. His hand still held the gun, pointing at her temple. The other hand, as one could expect from Badou, was still on her breasts, mimicking the circular movement of her knife at his cock. The right combination for killing the last piece of his sense. Even the thought of cigarette wasn’t there anymore.
“He really is a stupid man,” Naoto continued. “This is absolutely intact. I mean, if he really wanted to crush your pride, at least he could… well! Look, it even functions.”
Badou may only have one eye left, but the eye was never wrong. This time, that good eye told him the expression that Naoto made during her knife game. It wasn’t an expression of aroused girl. It was more like an expression of a girl opening her birthday present. An ancient katana, for Naoto’s case. It seemed like she want to plug it out, slide it into the sheath and carry it in her belt. It seemed like she want to wear it.
She didn’t touch it with her bare hand. Not even with one finger. Neither did she seem to want to. And don’t forget the fact that her breasts were massaged by a man’s hand. Badou knew it. It was even clearer now. Naoto is a dyke.
“Don’t get mad at him, Badou. Not now. What’s over is over, hum?” her knife pat his proud cock gently, “you’re not suppose to be this …” and tapping it a little harder, “… stiff.”
Badou jerked at that.
“She must be the one who kissed Nil’s little neck, making her wear turtle-neck gothic dress the next morning. And that tiny tongue of Nil must have traced the scars on her breasts while her fingers fiddling her tight pussy. That blind bishop couldn’t see them scissoring in her room, or even better, on the church floor. No, not under the chairs where parish sat. It was right on the front of the altar. And they…”
“Look, it’s getting longer and longer!” Naoto whispered, “Is that normal? I mean, being this long---“
“… hold each other tight. Tits against tits, nipples brush nipples. Her fingers caress Nil’s inner thighs while her other hand…”
“Shit! It’s even longer than my knife!”
Badou wasn’t aware of what his lesbian thought did to his ‘little brother’. Yes. That very brother grew bigger and longer, and prouder than ever. Naoto was right. He could see her knife was a little shorter when they were standing side by side. As Badou could expect from Naoto, he heard her say,
“I wish it was a knife.”
That’s it. That’s enough. Building Pisa Tower took a great pain. And so did his manhood tower. Being this big and this hard was aching. It ached like hell. It needed more than just the touch of a knife.
“Do something about it, woman!” He pushed the gun at her temple.
“About what?” She looked into his eye with her innocent look.
Damn, the eyes! How could she look more innocent than Nil? Oh, she’s so dyke. God, he wanted to fuck her now.
“Th-this,” his eye commanded her to look at his cock, “do…it!” He wasn’t sure what he meant with ‘it’. His mind had gone somewhere else.
“Oh,” Naoto whispered, “I knew there’s something … not normal here,” she pointed the tip of his cock with her knife, “maybe I should call a doctor.”
“No!” he almost yelled.
“No?”
“Just spread your legs and hop on me! Talk dirty. Scream my name. Throw that fucking knife away. Rip your pants. Lick my… wait! Rip and throw your knife… oh whatever. Just…“
“By the way,” Naoto said with analyzing tone.
“Rape me.”
“I think you should shave, Mr. Nails.”
.............. Later that night .............
Heine was startled at unusual greeting from two persons who entered Buono Viaggio.
“Hi, Heine.”
Two voices, man’s and woman’s , with very different tone made him turn his head to them. The woman had broad smile on her face. It’s not like her at all. The man had a grumpy face as always. But this time there was something different. His hand held the front ends of his jacket tightly, as if he kept a blood diamond in his crotch.
The man sat next to Heine. The white haired man was curious at this strange situation. Let me remind you something: nothing can make Heine curious. I mean, he thinks, a lot perhaps. But he’s never curious. Yeah, he’s no fun. Definitely no fun.
“Badou…” he began.
“Don’t ask,” Badou spat.
Heine didn’t give up. He scooped his pocket for a half-pack of cigarette. He pulled out one and waved it right in front of Badou’s nose. The red-haired didn’t move. His eye was gazing at nowhere.
“I will never ever, ever, ever partner her again,” he muttered in his thought for another hundred times.
~ that's all, folks ~
ps:
for someone who post this:
Badou/Naoto: Involving their scars. Maybe something akin to reluctance on one's part because of them, if you please ♥
you are responsible for making me fall for this pairing. and I shall take revenge! ♥♥♥