A/N: Whoa there, buddy. Did you read the first oneshot, You Belong To Me, yet? If you haven't, then you won't know what's going on, okay? Soooo...go read that then come back, 'kay? If you HAVE read the first part, then what are you still reading this for?! Read the fic already!
Shukaku and Matsuri
'I can see the fear in your eyes, I see it materialize.' - Two Weeks
'Did you really think I would let you go? After what you did to me, you actually had the gall to believe for even a second that I wouldn't have my revenge?'
She had humiliated him. What she had done to this particular demon was - in his eyes - unforgivable and deserving of harsh punishment. And he reveled in the idea of having her suffer under his hands, having her beg for death. In which case, being the gentleman he was, he would oblige to her pathetic wishes with a smile stretched over his lips.
And one hand gripping her bloodied heart in his fingers so he could feel her die.
"Shut-up, just shut-up!"
Matsuri flung herself at the wall, beating it with her fists in a fit of fury at the complete and utter unfairness of what was happening to her. Or more accurately, in her head. He would not leave her be, would not go away. He was always in the front of her mind contradicting everything she did and mocking her very existance.
She heard him cluck his tongue in mock disappointment, and she could imagine him shaking his head with his golden eyes glinting cruelly at her. She shuddered and sunk to the floor against the wall.
'Now why would you go and do something like that, Matty? Hmm? That won't solve anything, now will it?'
Matsuri refused to answer, anger boiling and simmering and pouring out of her skin in waves. She felt him shift inside her, felt his grin stretch in her head as he pulled against the shackles chaining him down and keeping him from taking control. Immediately she slammed down on him, keeping him from pulling at his restraints.
He grinned at her attempts to keep him at bay. It was so weak compared to what he had endured with his previous host. He shook his shackles again, testing her and getting excited when he felt her fear seep around him as she pushed back at him harshly.
'Stop it.' She demanded, forcing herself into a full body image inside her head as she dared to confront him directly. She trembled slightly.
In her head, she had him trapped in total darkness with only their bodies visible in the pitch black, aside from one wall. It shimmered slightly, like a film of water lay over it, with three thick chains trailing down and shackling to his wrists and neck. He stood pleasantly against the wall, his hands now still against his sides and eyes watching her carefully.
She had assumed that he would take on the appearance of Gaara. Why? She didn't know.
He had instead taken on what he called his own self. His hair was the color of cherry wood, a mix between brown and crimson while his golden eyes glinted dangerously at her from a sculpted face and thick lashes. His body was lean and wiry, intimidating and deadly as he stood before her. He shifted, his body flowing like the wind as he did, and it reminded her of how a jaguar moves as he hunts.
"And what, pray tell, brings you to my humble abode at this time?" He asked, eyes scanning over her quickly before locking with her gaze once more.
Matsuri bristled and took a threatening step toward them, frustration momentarily causing her to act on impulse. She halted however as he leaned forward and the links scraped against each other, breaking her from her fury haze. His eyes glinted excitedly, beckoning her to get closer and she swallowed thickly.
"You know damn well why I'm here, bastard." She spat, glaring heatedly at him.
He chuckled deeply. "Is someone getting angry with me?"
She grimaced at his mock pout, acting as if it disgusted her to see him so. He only laughed at her.
"I want you to disappear." She said, her voice quiet and hardly audible to her own ears.
He cocked his head to the side, his eyes drilling into her face with an intensity that left her knees weak. "What was that?"
Matsuri took a shaky breath, trying to steel herself and force conviction into her voice. In all honesty, she didn't know why she wasn't being more assertive. This was her head, not his. It didn't matter that he was a coniving demon that enjoyed making her miserable. It didn't matter that she had been forced to share her mind with him for such a long period of time. What mattered was that he had no place here.
So why was she fighting with herself about this? Why, in the deepest part of herself was she not fighting him to the fullest? She knew she could be stronger, she was sure of it. The silence around them rang in her ears and Matsuri clamped her eyes shut and fisted her hands at her sides. This is stupid, she told herself. You hate him, hate him. Why are you letting him have so much influence over you?!
Shukaku raised a brow questioningly, curiousity gleaming in his eyes. His wrist stung suddenly as if he was being burned and he jerked his hand against the chain. His eyes cut to the shackle on his wrist and he narrowed his eyes angrily at the offending restraint. Damn it, even though her control was weaker than Gaara's, he was still chained to a fucking wall.
It was then that his attention was averted quite swiftly to the links connecting to his wrist's shackle. The link hooked to the loop of shackle was sizziling and bubbling. It was as if straight acid had been poured onto it as it fizzed and ate away at itself. In a matter of seconds it spread to the shackle and the next link, following the same pattern as the first.
He tilted his head and watched with mild interest as the steel turned to nothing but rust flecks floating to the floor. Interesting. He glanced up at the girl standing a few yards away and grinned albeit docily at how she held herself. Eyes shut tight, hands gripped into tight fists - very amusing. He was sure that his shackle releasing him was the result of her thoughts.
"Why thank you, Matty. I didn't know you cared." He said snidely, smiling wickedly when her eyes flew open, surprise and anger burning in their depths.
Her eyes cut to his freed hand as he shook it experimentally and her mouth dropped open in shock. How....?
Shukaku jerked the wrist that was still trapped in the harsh steel and stared pointedly at her. "Well? Would you care to do this one while you're at it?"
Panic rose so swiftly in her that she immediately disspelled the full body image in her head and snapped open her eyes to the darkened room that had once served as an interrogating quarters for traitors, but had now been left to rot on the outskirts of Suna. Dust covered every corner as cobwebs lay swung lazily in any available space. It smelled of wet wood and mold and the very air inside the room was damp and kissing the exposed skin of her arms and upper legs.
Suddenly, feeling suffocated, Matsuri unzipped her vest and flung it away from her, gulping in deep breaths as she did so. Her headband soon followed, clinking against the wall and floor dully before settling amongst the dust and rotting structure. Her fingers worked on the gloves and arm guards that seemed too tight and too restraining on her skin. In seconds, she lay sitting in the middle of the floor in nothing but her T-shirt dress, leggings, and sandals.
And then the tears came.
Fear pulsed just beneath the surface, along with the utter misery of her situation. She couldn't be alone, she couldn't have her own mind to think, and she couldn't get rid of this monster infesting her body with his tainted soul. She was no longer the pure and innocent kunoichi of Suna, but something else entirely. She wasn't her anymore. Who was she?
She didn't know.
Shukaku cackled giddily and the noise seemed to pour out of her own lungs and wrap around her menacingly. When he grinned triumphantly, she touched her lips with the tips of her fingers and found them stretched over her teeth in a sinister smile. When he spoke, her mouth moved and spat the words out in an acidic voice. Once more, panic seized her and she scrambled to her feet and across the room to where broken pieces of glass littered the ground.
Picking up the biggest of the pieces, Matsuri gazed down at her reflection and stared in horror at the golden irises gazing back up at her. She had lost herself to a demon.
She was screaming. Glass shattered on the floor as it fell from her suddenly weak fingers. Shukaku's howling laughter was just as loud and consuming as her screams, bubbling around her like a live animal. Tormenting her. Mocking her. Teasing her.
Her ears were numb from her screams and yet she did not stop. She couldn't for she could feel Shukaku's excitment in her and it fueled the fear shooting through her system. It was like she was running as fast as she could with a shadow hovering over her, ready to pounce on her at any second. The constant threat of death was driving her mad and she didn't know if she could handle it anymore.
"Face your fears, coward."
"LEAVE ME ALONE!"
"Come on! Face me!"
And then she was in front of him, eyes ablaze with her fear and rage, her lungs in overdrive in her chest as her heart hammered away erratically. Matsuri, for the first time in her life, wanted to kill someone. She had never been one to crave the death of another, it just wasn't in her nature. She had just done her duty as a kunoichi and had blocked out the horrid images of the enemies she had been assigned to take care of. Now, though, the bloodlust coursed through her in a rush and consuming her rational thought fast.
Shukaku's eyes were bright as he watched her, legs tensed beneath him as he waited for her to come at him. Once she did, all of this would be over. The cards would be in his hand, and he would call the shots. He would make her beg for her life continously. His manacles clinked together loudly in the silence, reminding him once more that he was chained like a dog.
It would be her turn to be shackled to this damn wall very soon.
"Come on, Matsuri. What would Gaara," he sneered the name. "say about you if he saw you now, so weak and helpless."
She snapped. She was rushing him and in seconds had her hands wrapping around his throat with surprising speed. Even Shukaku was momentarily stunned from the swift movement. Her fingers tightened and she relished in the gag he choked out as she bared her teeth at him.
"I told you to just shut-up and leave me alone!" she hissed.
His eyes locked on hers and she could see the dark amusement lighting them up from the inside. Realization dawned on her slowly then, remembering that somehow one of the restraints had snapped from his wrist and he had a free hand. Before she could retreat a safe distance, his hand was tangled in her hair and jerking her head back harshly.
She yelled in pain at the fire stinging her skull and her fingers released their tight grip. Her eyes narrowed on the man before her in disgust and she felt the bile coating the inside of her mouth. More than anything she wanted to scratch the smile from his lips.
His golden eyes were like cold stones as they gazed down on her, taking on an inquisitive look as he spoke slowly and softly to her. "What are thinking?"
The sudden change in him had her mind reeling and all she could manage to stutter past the shooting pain in her scalp was an intelligent: "H-huh?"
He sneered at her and tightened his fingers in her hair. "I want to know what you are thinking. And don't lie, I'm in your head. I'll know if you do." he warned, eyes sparking dangerously.
"I hate you."
He smiled. He fucking smiled. "Wonderful," he breathed and her chest felt like it caved in and crushed her insides as he leaned down toward her and brushed his cheek against her own and pressed his lips close to her ear. "Because I hate you, too."
Was that even her voice? How could she sound so calm and collected when on the inside it was a miracle she hadn't broken apart into tiny pieces from the onslaught of emotions and thoughts and needs and newly burning desires eating her from the inside out like a consuming parasite to its doomed host.
There was a sharp crack and both her and the demon holding her froze at the sound, mentally scanning themselves to see if they were still intact. Confusion flicked in Matsuri's eyes and she tried to move her head to see what had made the noise. Instead, she screamed and thrashed wildly when his other hand gripped her jaw and made her face him.
The shackles were gone.
He was loose.
Oh, God, nooo...
"Well, this is a pleasant surprise, don't you think?" he whispered, smiling sardonically at her.
She began to shake in his hands. How could this have happened? How?! He was going to take over, he was going to kill her and then go for the village just like he had tried with Gaara two years ago. He was going to get out!
She forcefully yanked herself away from him, jumping back a few steps before charging back in and tackling him full in the chest. She wasn't a medic ninja so she wasn't familiar with the human body, she hardly knew where any of the killing points in a person were. She was familiar with weapons, how to use weapons, how to kill someone with weapons! But she had no weapns! It was hopeless, she knew, but, God, what else could she do?!
The only thing clear was that she had to wrap her hands around his throat, had to choke him. So when they slammed to the ground with a bone-jarring impact, her hands shot at his throat and squeezed for all she was worth. It was harder than she could ever imagine to hold back a sudden onslaught of tears and regret and...and guilt.
The sudden realization that she didn't want to kill him had her staring in pure and unadulterated shock down at the man below her. Oh, no. No, no, no!
The forcefullness of which she felt when she was slammed back into reality was painful and she cried and sobbed as she stood on her own two feet back in the run down room on the outskirts of home. Her chest ached with her heaving breaths and her ribs felt broken when her heart refused to slow and continued to beat recklessly against them. Her hands clutched at the fabric of her shirt and she bent at the waist, screaming for all she was worth at the ground.
Why did this have to happen to her?!? WHY!!! WHY DID THIS HAPPEN!? WHY COULDN'T SHE STOP HIM!?!
She screamed and screamed and screamed for what seemed like hours. She screamed for the helplessness wrapped tightly around her, for the pain consuming her very skin, for the hate she couldn't feel for him but only for herself, the confusion for why she couldn't hate him, and then finally for the fear holding her so desperately, cracking her at the seams and tearing her apart bit by bit.
Why wasn't she dead yet?
And then someone else was screaming with her, yelling and shouting with as much intensity as herself. It shocked her and yet she couldn't stop. She dropped to the floor and she felt the floor vibrate as the other person followed her movements. Against her will, her head flung back and she was screaming at the water stained ceiling and her hands were fisted at her temples and rage was flowing through her veins.
She didn't have to look to know Shukaku was the cause of this. That he was kneeled on the ground with his hands fisted harshly in his hair and shouting at the sky because of her. Because he was finally free, but they were so deeply connected from the two years together that he couldn't break away completely. And he hated it, but she could feel that at the same time a small part of him loved it.
And she felt the same.
Her mind blanked, and when she was conscious of her movements again, she was standing before him and looking over her shoulder at where she had previously been. She blanked again. This time when she came to, she was holding his face between her small hands and staring into his burning, heated, smoldering gold eyes with glittering black pools mirroring his gaze. Her body seemed to act on its own as she sat on his lap and the silence drowned them.
She pressed forward and smashed her lips to his.
In that moment, Matsuri died.
She ceased to be the same girl, the same kunoichi of Suna. It was like shedding a skin you know isn't your own and walking straight into what you know is yours. She hated herself for the stinging betrayl of leaving Gaara behind, for leaving her friends and her village and for leaving herself behind. But it didn't last because she wasn't that girl any longer.
Her body seemed to snap.
His lips pressed back against hers and one of his hands clamped onto the top of her thigh, keeping her there in case she decided to up and run. He wouldn't let her. She wouldn't let herself. His other hand curved against her jaw like a vice, and she was forced to stay still and let him take control, to feel as he forcefully pushed past her lips and invaded her mouth with every intention of claiming her very being. She didn't fight it.
Shukaku growled savagely into her mouth and wrenched himself away, glaring with so much rage that if Matsuri hadn't died a few moments before, she would have tried to escape. Instead, this Matsuri fisted her hands into his shirt and shoved him back against the wall. His head hit the plaster and he hissed and gripped the upper part of her arms with his hands and shoved her back, flipping their positions and dragging her to a standing position.
"I hate you." he seethed, keeping her still with a bruising hold. I hate how you make me feel.
Her eyes stared up at him defiantely. "I hate you, too." I hate how you let me feel.
His mouth was on hers again, never giving her the chance to fight back as he seemed to be everywhere at once. Biting and nipping, sucking and licking, hands sliding over her and grabbing her, keeping her still and to himself. He was never gentle, always rough and unforgiving in his movements and she found herself glad for this. She didn't want him to treat her like some innocent doll. She was far from it.
He grabbed her legs and lifted her up and her legs wrapped around his lean waist and hands fisted into his shirt, holding herself to him in a viscious grip. He snarled and rolled his hips suggestively against her own, and the heat that shot through her had her head rolling back and a moan bubbling from her throat. His echoing groan vibrated through her and she trembled.
"I'm not Gaara," he said suddenly, biting down harshly on her throat and she gasped, fingers weaving into his russet, unruly hair. "I won't go easy on you."
She pulled his head from her neck. "I don't want you to," she ground out and kissed him feverently, teeth clashing against his own as her tongue shot in and purposefully overtook him. "Now, shut-up." she mumbled.
For once, he actually did.
He slammed her into the wall to break her dominant streak and when she whimpered, he took her mouth and showed her just who was boss. His hands yanked the T-shirt dress over her head and flung it away, followed closely by the bandages binding her chest and plain black underwear. In seconds he had her pinned to the floor and was kissing and nipping his way down her chest. She suddenly gripped his hair and pulled him up.
A warning growl, promisiong torturous afflictions erupted from him as his golden eyes collided with her glazed orbs. She pointedly sat up and tugged at his shirt. Understanding flickering over his features, he leaned away and took off his shirt, exposing his sun kissed skin scarred with wounds from battles long ago. When he leaned toward her again, she shook her head and unbuttoned his pants.
He hesitated, not wanting to be completely exposed just yet. He wanted to make her suffer longer, but she was relentless and dodged him when he went at her again.
"Fuck," he hissed and shook of his pants and once more pounced on her, forcing her to the floor before she could get a good look at him. It was too late, she saw his exposed body and shuddered. It was going to be painful, she knew. He was too big.
"I'm not letting you get away."
His mouth seared her own and her chest heaved with the fire that seemed to pour from his lips. Scorching flames raced over the skin his mouth touched, tracing a line from her jaw to her chest and over her stomach. She knew what he was going to do, and she desperately didn't want him to. Her legs, still dressed in her leggings, shot up and her knees dug into his ribs, effectively stopping his descent.
"Don't." she gasped, her legs quivering when he tried pulling away. "Don't." she repeated.
A sadistic smile spread over his lips, golden eyes glittering dangerously as he loomed over her. "Fine," he said in a deadly voice. His hands grasped her breasts and kneaded them in a way that had her moaning and wriggling beneath him, hips rising to grind against him again and again and again. His eyes screwed shut at one point and all movement ceased. When she whimpered helplessly beneath him, his eyes shot open and his hands grabbed her wrists and held them above her head.
His eyes were wild and glazed with lust and her insides flipped. She rose her hips again and rubbed harshly against him and he made a noise that sounded somewhere between a groan and a snarl. His eyes clashed with hers, warning her, taunting her, driving her insane.
And then he drove into her without warning, filling her completely to the hilt painfully and, oh, so delicously. He filled her in a way that she had never felt, never knew existed, could never have imagined in her darkest fantasies. And then he was moving.
It was not gentle, just like he had told her. It was anything but. It had her crying out, screaming and wriggling beneath him in pain and pleasure so intense she thought she was drowning in it. Everything became a blur except his hissing breaths, his flaming mouth on hers, his rough hands tracing her body in such maddening ways, and his violent, seemingly never-ending thrusts. The sensations she felt ranged from skin-ripped-from-bone pain and screaming pleasure.
She felt like she was going crazy and her hands fisted into her hair as she was brought insanely close to the edge and she screamed loud and long and achingly needy. He grunted and pressed his lips to hers, pulling her bottom lip into his mouth between his teeth and sucking. His tongue danced around hers as he moved faster and faster, harder and harder, going deeper and deeper.
When would it end? She didn't want it to.
But abruptly so he hit a spot that had her falling apart at the seams and yelling, hands and legs clutching to the demon above her for dear life. He dragged in deep breaths as her walls convulsed against him, pulling and stroking him in such a way that with a final, deeply driven thrust, he was falling off the edge of the world after her, biting back noises he didn't even know he could make.
Matsuri's bleary eyes stared up at him, glazed and still in shock of what had just happened. Her body still trembling anxiously in the aftermath of her orgasm. His bright, glittering eyes found hers and time seemed to stand still. He searched through her eyes, seemingly into the very depths of her soul, looking for regret. They both knew that even if he did find a hint of guilt or disgust, he would outright laugh and throw it in her face. In any case, there was none, and he gave no reaction.
He spoke in a raw, almost soft, tone. "I hate you."
"I hate you, too." she answered, voice gentle.
I hate how you make me feel.
I hate how you let me feel.
A/N: Well I hope that wasn't too terrible and it lived up to the expectations of the readers that wanted a sequel...Anyway, this was kind of like a Halloween gift! So Happy Halloween guys! Hope you have a good one. Took long enough for this to be written, didn't it? Haha, please review!