(naruto) more crossdressing!sasuke. XDDDD;;;;
It's not my fault, the bunny ambushed me. SASUKE IS SUCH A SLUT. Anyway, this is quite NC-17, and even more plotless than the first.
grammar, tenses, stuff like that? i sorry for all the replies i gotta reply to, but this fic wouldn't leave me alone, and now i have to sleep. x_x
There are times when he can barely stand Sasuke. The bastard is even more bitchy now. Always on his case, always throwing sarcastic comments right and left, and their rivalry has reached new heights. He wonders if there's any friendship left in the tangle of their complicated relationship.
There are times when he wishes he's never set eyes on Saki-chan. Cute, shy, blushing, so pliant Saki-chan.
Right now, it is not one of these times.
Right now, Sasuke is lookout. This means that Saki-chan is leaning on the windowsill and looking gravely outside, a fragile, almost sickly girl on the edge of womanhood, a cute little thing with ruffles at her sleeves and a ribbon around her throat, posing for the rare people who happen to be looking up at the mansion at the edge of the little town. The people who are getting less and less rare, and most of them are boys, who wave at the General's niece, perfectly framed by the elegant window. Sometimes, Saki-chan nods back, just a little, and they slap each other in the back when they think she's too far to see.
Naruto would be a lot more jealous if he wasn't too busy watching his hands disappear under the short skirts, if he wasn't too engrossed in the feel of her thighs clasping his erection, holding it in that warm hollow where he can rub against the silk panties to his heart's content.
It's dark inside the house. None of them see him grin as he watches them watching his little girlfriend. A doll, yeah. They blush and try to encourage each other to open the gate and go knock on the door, they dare each other to approach the aloof little princess. Meanwhile, he runs his fingers along the edges of her stockings, and wonders what they'd think if they knew that the perfect, distant damsel is currently holding a cock between her thighs. What they'd think if they knew that their pretty debutante was a boy, who could kill them all without blinking.
What they'd think if they could see the erection stretching the silk panties...
He pulls her hips back, and nonchalantly, Saki moves, leaning forward on her elbows, arms crossed elegantly. The falls of lace hide her hands; Sasuke's hands are clenched on the windowsill, hard enough to leave actual gouges in the wood. Naruto flips the skirt over the small of her back, cups her buttocks. They're so tight. Muscled; not really that girly. Pretty anyway, in the soft panties, with the garters pulled taut over their curves.
He can't get over the fact that he owns that ass, lacy underwear and all. He squeezes it, kneads it with abandon. Saki-chan is tense, her knees trembling faintly with nervousness and arousal, though he can bet her expression still screams "I am deathly serious/bored" to the world. That's one of the times he's glad Sasuke is so good at pretending he doesn't feel anything.
Though Naruto always likes to push that ability of Sasuke's to disconnect his features and his feelings. He runs a finger up the cleft of her ass, caressing her through the slick material. He lingers on her entrance; she squeezes her ohsowarm thighs around his erection.
"Naru-kun, you aren't..." she whispers. He shushes her, his fingers already under the panty straps.
"Oh, yes, I am," he replies, unconcerned. She won't fight him. She never does. The other day, they rode on the bus together. There were too many people to get a seat each, so he pulled her in his lap; people smiled, such cute kids. He could have unzipped his pants and sat her on his cock right there, only protected from view by her short, fluffy skirts -- no one would have known -- and she would only have blushed.
The other day, he tapped Sasuke on the shoulder for a job well-done, and ended up head first in a pond. He could have done worse; he could have spanked his ass. He frowns, and spanks the back of Saki-chan's thighs. She emits a strangled noise that takes as much after a startled gasp than after a whimper. He doesn't know what's the bastard's problem, but he can't stand being touched anymore... as a boy, that is. As a girl, she practically begs for it, with every shy glance, every absent flick of her tongue over her glossed lips.
Maybe it gives him a hard-on, to have Naruto's hands on him, and it's only acceptable to be aroused by his rival when he's a she. When he's Naruto's cute, vulnerable, obedient girlfriend. One day Naruto will test, but right now the agreement suits him well enough; he can have his badass, challenging as hell rival and his strong, reliable teammate, and he can have his Saki-chan, his girlfriend to cherish and protect and get kinky with.
He rolls the panties down. The garters block their fall; they stay, crumpled silk around her bare thighs, hindering her legs. Saki-chan shivers. Naruto steps back, admiring the view. Black boots and striped stockings and panties down and skirt hitched up, trembling like a virgin, bent over like a slut. His girlfriend.
"N-Naruto..."
"Pose for your fans, pretty. You don't want them to know what a naughty girl you can be."
He picks up the tube of lip gloss -- peach today -- and draw a smooth, wet line down the cleft of her ass. She twitches; he spanks, then smoothes the rumpled skirt off the small of her back.
At first it was hard not to laugh when spouting off that kind of lines, when behaving in such a way, but now he doesn't find any of that funny, or cheesy. He says it because that's what he thinks -- Saki-chan is prettier than anyone he's ever seen -- and he does that because that's what Sasuke needs. Because Sasuke is fucked up, and he wants to know he's pretty -- wants to know he is something to be desired -- and he wants to know Naruto will take charge, take responsibility.
Lip gloss doesn't make for very good lube, and he would be afraid to hurt her, but ... He won't make crude jokes about her taking it like a man out loud, but he doesn't think less of it. Saki-chan doesn't even protest as he pushes the cool metal tube inside her slowly, cautiously, just sighs shakily, and squirms a little. She tries to spread her legs when he pulls the little tube free, but her panties hinder her. He rests the head of his cock against her pucker, and watches her tighten, nervously. He caresses her butt soothingly, murmurs reassurances and praise when she finally relaxes, and watches himself disappear between her buttocks.
"Oh, yes, you're marvelous, baby... the prettiest, awesomest girl in the world." He sinks into her, moaning softly. "So tight... so perfect..." He stops moving. She attempts to thrust back -- a borderline aggressive move that's more Sasuke than Saki. He kneads her buttocks, waiting for her to settle down. "Shh, don't move... Remember, they're watching. Everyone's always watching you."
She cringes. He knows her face doesn't change, aloof, disinterested, but he can feel her flesh tighten. He has hit something right there with his words.
He starts rocking, pulling out of her smoothly between every sentence, pushing back in as he whispers, breathlessly. "They're watching you... so proper... so pretty... so perfect... they stare and stare, and they wonder what the hell you're thinking about, and they don't even dare to reach out and ask... They don't know. They can't know. You wouldn't tell them anyway. But you don't need to tell /me/. I already know. You don't need to tell me anything. Or ask me for anything. I know. I'll give it to you. You don't need to... Be cold. Or standoffish. Or wary. Because -- you're /mine/, and I'll -- oh god, Saki -- I'll warm you up. Pull you close. You don't have to ask. I won't ask. I'll just -- just do it. Because I want it. Because you're, mine, you're MINE --"
He doesn't know what he's saying anymore. He doesn't even know if he's talking to Saki or Sasuke. It doesn't matter. His girlfriend is moaning out loud now, more from his words than his thrusts. She's still trying to keep a tight hold of the windowsill, but Naruto's ramming into her so hard, she keeps pitching forward. He wonders what her admirers think is going on, and laughs breathlessly. They can watch from afar, and wonder. He's hidden in the darkness behind his pretty doll, fucking her, possessing her, and all they can do is stare, and wish they could touch.
The best, is that his Saki-chan would dismember any of them if they so much as brushed a finger against her shoulder, and that -- knowing that he's the only one allowed to care for that crazy, lethally magnificent, utterly desirable being -- that's the best feeling in the world.
Or maybe it's just his orgasm talking.
Spent, he pulls out regretfully, and slumps on a stool conveniently placed a step behind. Saki's legs are still shaking, and she's leaning heavily on the windowsill. The front of her pretty dress is all wet. He smiles, caressing her hip softly. "You're beautiful."
She would be beautiful, he thinks, even without the stockings and the boots that mask some of the wiry muscles in her legs, even without the garters and the fluffy skirts lending roundness to her hips. Even without the large, lacy sleeves hiding her shoulders and the scars on her arms and the tendons on the back of her hands, or the ribbon keeping her hair from looking like a furious bird's crest.
She would be beautiful even as Sasuke, and that knowledge doesn't scare him as much as it did in the beginning, but what does scare him is the way Sasuke would respond to that. Sasuke is strong, and aloof, and utterly vicious when crossed. Sasuke never lets his guard down, never owes a debt to anyone. Sasuke doesn't want reassurance, or protection, because he can protect himself and he knows exactly where he's going and why.
Saki is everything he isn't allowing himself to be. Soft, unsure, submissive; it's okay for other people, but not for him. This is why it's okay to get reassurance, and protection, and affection, when he's the contrary of himself. And only then.
There are times where he wishes he'd never set eyes on Saki-chan. Cute, shy, blushing, so pliant Saki-chan.
But when her lips are half-open cutely, and she glances at him from beneath her sinfully long eyelashes, and she's blushing for him -- pliant for him -- he wishes -- he wishes...
Forgetting the eventual spectators, he pulls her on his lap, and caresses her hair gently, and tastes the peaches on her lips. "You're so pretty. My Saki."
grammar, tenses, stuff like that? i sorry for all the replies i gotta reply to, but this fic wouldn't leave me alone, and now i have to sleep. x_x
There are times when he can barely stand Sasuke. The bastard is even more bitchy now. Always on his case, always throwing sarcastic comments right and left, and their rivalry has reached new heights. He wonders if there's any friendship left in the tangle of their complicated relationship.
There are times when he wishes he's never set eyes on Saki-chan. Cute, shy, blushing, so pliant Saki-chan.
Right now, it is not one of these times.
Right now, Sasuke is lookout. This means that Saki-chan is leaning on the windowsill and looking gravely outside, a fragile, almost sickly girl on the edge of womanhood, a cute little thing with ruffles at her sleeves and a ribbon around her throat, posing for the rare people who happen to be looking up at the mansion at the edge of the little town. The people who are getting less and less rare, and most of them are boys, who wave at the General's niece, perfectly framed by the elegant window. Sometimes, Saki-chan nods back, just a little, and they slap each other in the back when they think she's too far to see.
Naruto would be a lot more jealous if he wasn't too busy watching his hands disappear under the short skirts, if he wasn't too engrossed in the feel of her thighs clasping his erection, holding it in that warm hollow where he can rub against the silk panties to his heart's content.
It's dark inside the house. None of them see him grin as he watches them watching his little girlfriend. A doll, yeah. They blush and try to encourage each other to open the gate and go knock on the door, they dare each other to approach the aloof little princess. Meanwhile, he runs his fingers along the edges of her stockings, and wonders what they'd think if they knew that the perfect, distant damsel is currently holding a cock between her thighs. What they'd think if they knew that their pretty debutante was a boy, who could kill them all without blinking.
What they'd think if they could see the erection stretching the silk panties...
He pulls her hips back, and nonchalantly, Saki moves, leaning forward on her elbows, arms crossed elegantly. The falls of lace hide her hands; Sasuke's hands are clenched on the windowsill, hard enough to leave actual gouges in the wood. Naruto flips the skirt over the small of her back, cups her buttocks. They're so tight. Muscled; not really that girly. Pretty anyway, in the soft panties, with the garters pulled taut over their curves.
He can't get over the fact that he owns that ass, lacy underwear and all. He squeezes it, kneads it with abandon. Saki-chan is tense, her knees trembling faintly with nervousness and arousal, though he can bet her expression still screams "I am deathly serious/bored" to the world. That's one of the times he's glad Sasuke is so good at pretending he doesn't feel anything.
Though Naruto always likes to push that ability of Sasuke's to disconnect his features and his feelings. He runs a finger up the cleft of her ass, caressing her through the slick material. He lingers on her entrance; she squeezes her ohsowarm thighs around his erection.
"Naru-kun, you aren't..." she whispers. He shushes her, his fingers already under the panty straps.
"Oh, yes, I am," he replies, unconcerned. She won't fight him. She never does. The other day, they rode on the bus together. There were too many people to get a seat each, so he pulled her in his lap; people smiled, such cute kids. He could have unzipped his pants and sat her on his cock right there, only protected from view by her short, fluffy skirts -- no one would have known -- and she would only have blushed.
The other day, he tapped Sasuke on the shoulder for a job well-done, and ended up head first in a pond. He could have done worse; he could have spanked his ass. He frowns, and spanks the back of Saki-chan's thighs. She emits a strangled noise that takes as much after a startled gasp than after a whimper. He doesn't know what's the bastard's problem, but he can't stand being touched anymore... as a boy, that is. As a girl, she practically begs for it, with every shy glance, every absent flick of her tongue over her glossed lips.
Maybe it gives him a hard-on, to have Naruto's hands on him, and it's only acceptable to be aroused by his rival when he's a she. When he's Naruto's cute, vulnerable, obedient girlfriend. One day Naruto will test, but right now the agreement suits him well enough; he can have his badass, challenging as hell rival and his strong, reliable teammate, and he can have his Saki-chan, his girlfriend to cherish and protect and get kinky with.
He rolls the panties down. The garters block their fall; they stay, crumpled silk around her bare thighs, hindering her legs. Saki-chan shivers. Naruto steps back, admiring the view. Black boots and striped stockings and panties down and skirt hitched up, trembling like a virgin, bent over like a slut. His girlfriend.
"N-Naruto..."
"Pose for your fans, pretty. You don't want them to know what a naughty girl you can be."
He picks up the tube of lip gloss -- peach today -- and draw a smooth, wet line down the cleft of her ass. She twitches; he spanks, then smoothes the rumpled skirt off the small of her back.
At first it was hard not to laugh when spouting off that kind of lines, when behaving in such a way, but now he doesn't find any of that funny, or cheesy. He says it because that's what he thinks -- Saki-chan is prettier than anyone he's ever seen -- and he does that because that's what Sasuke needs. Because Sasuke is fucked up, and he wants to know he's pretty -- wants to know he is something to be desired -- and he wants to know Naruto will take charge, take responsibility.
Lip gloss doesn't make for very good lube, and he would be afraid to hurt her, but ... He won't make crude jokes about her taking it like a man out loud, but he doesn't think less of it. Saki-chan doesn't even protest as he pushes the cool metal tube inside her slowly, cautiously, just sighs shakily, and squirms a little. She tries to spread her legs when he pulls the little tube free, but her panties hinder her. He rests the head of his cock against her pucker, and watches her tighten, nervously. He caresses her butt soothingly, murmurs reassurances and praise when she finally relaxes, and watches himself disappear between her buttocks.
"Oh, yes, you're marvelous, baby... the prettiest, awesomest girl in the world." He sinks into her, moaning softly. "So tight... so perfect..." He stops moving. She attempts to thrust back -- a borderline aggressive move that's more Sasuke than Saki. He kneads her buttocks, waiting for her to settle down. "Shh, don't move... Remember, they're watching. Everyone's always watching you."
She cringes. He knows her face doesn't change, aloof, disinterested, but he can feel her flesh tighten. He has hit something right there with his words.
He starts rocking, pulling out of her smoothly between every sentence, pushing back in as he whispers, breathlessly. "They're watching you... so proper... so pretty... so perfect... they stare and stare, and they wonder what the hell you're thinking about, and they don't even dare to reach out and ask... They don't know. They can't know. You wouldn't tell them anyway. But you don't need to tell /me/. I already know. You don't need to tell me anything. Or ask me for anything. I know. I'll give it to you. You don't need to... Be cold. Or standoffish. Or wary. Because -- you're /mine/, and I'll -- oh god, Saki -- I'll warm you up. Pull you close. You don't have to ask. I won't ask. I'll just -- just do it. Because I want it. Because you're, mine, you're MINE --"
He doesn't know what he's saying anymore. He doesn't even know if he's talking to Saki or Sasuke. It doesn't matter. His girlfriend is moaning out loud now, more from his words than his thrusts. She's still trying to keep a tight hold of the windowsill, but Naruto's ramming into her so hard, she keeps pitching forward. He wonders what her admirers think is going on, and laughs breathlessly. They can watch from afar, and wonder. He's hidden in the darkness behind his pretty doll, fucking her, possessing her, and all they can do is stare, and wish they could touch.
The best, is that his Saki-chan would dismember any of them if they so much as brushed a finger against her shoulder, and that -- knowing that he's the only one allowed to care for that crazy, lethally magnificent, utterly desirable being -- that's the best feeling in the world.
Or maybe it's just his orgasm talking.
Spent, he pulls out regretfully, and slumps on a stool conveniently placed a step behind. Saki's legs are still shaking, and she's leaning heavily on the windowsill. The front of her pretty dress is all wet. He smiles, caressing her hip softly. "You're beautiful."
She would be beautiful, he thinks, even without the stockings and the boots that mask some of the wiry muscles in her legs, even without the garters and the fluffy skirts lending roundness to her hips. Even without the large, lacy sleeves hiding her shoulders and the scars on her arms and the tendons on the back of her hands, or the ribbon keeping her hair from looking like a furious bird's crest.
She would be beautiful even as Sasuke, and that knowledge doesn't scare him as much as it did in the beginning, but what does scare him is the way Sasuke would respond to that. Sasuke is strong, and aloof, and utterly vicious when crossed. Sasuke never lets his guard down, never owes a debt to anyone. Sasuke doesn't want reassurance, or protection, because he can protect himself and he knows exactly where he's going and why.
Saki is everything he isn't allowing himself to be. Soft, unsure, submissive; it's okay for other people, but not for him. This is why it's okay to get reassurance, and protection, and affection, when he's the contrary of himself. And only then.
There are times where he wishes he'd never set eyes on Saki-chan. Cute, shy, blushing, so pliant Saki-chan.
But when her lips are half-open cutely, and she glances at him from beneath her sinfully long eyelashes, and she's blushing for him -- pliant for him -- he wishes -- he wishes...
Forgetting the eventual spectators, he pulls her on his lap, and caresses her hair gently, and tastes the peaches on her lips. "You're so pretty. My Saki."