Erm, hi guys! Super unforgivably late update, I know, but, y'know.. Life, transitioning of fandoms, y'know.. o-o
Keep in mind that I am rusty in regards to both this story and several other things considering my previous way of writing out things. I'm sorry for any weirdness. Just yeah. (try to) Enjoy. :D
This story is nearing its end, actually. So prepare thyselves!
Warnings: Psycho!Sasu. Sakura. Difficult situations. Effed up language. Shota. Sexual stuff all over. The usual.
Soft limbs, feather bones, long hair. Breakable, weak. My mother.
The purple marks on her cheek, father's fist painted underneath her makeup. Lip split open on each side like snake fangs. White legs smeared with dry cum, her eyes brimming like the flood outside. Father at the kitchen table watching her cook. House smelling like food, stove steaming.
"Please excuse his horrible manners, Doct-, Sasuke, he's just a very lonely boy, and I-"
My eyes are the leaves outside the window, tangling in the wind, swaying side to side. My skin is the wet excitement stemming from my kiddish prick. Father stands, my mother's still. Shaking. Her shoulders move and I breathe loudly.
"...can't make friends. I don't know why, I've tried getting him to befriend the little girl on the second floor but nothing ever comes of it. I've spoken to him about it several times, but each time he just-"
His hand finds its place against her shoulder. He breathes her scent, her neck; eyes closed, he pulls her to him. The salt falls loudly to the floor. The walls contain her sobbing, quiet sobbing. The milk in the glass next to her hand. She speaks of me.
"Sasuke must be hungry, please-"
And he knows that I am watching.
"I've thought of sending him to another home, but the counselors always say there are no others available-"
My hand is the wandering snake that my brother's friend brings every morning. The one that slithers against my dick whilst Itachi's bathing. Behind mother's apple tree; snake being placed against my lily-white ass, its tail being dipped to fuck me deep inside.
Ass clenching, tail moving, friend laughing at what he's watching.
"..Autism? I think it must be that-"
And then father begins to shove his fingers inside her, orders me to come out from behind the wall. To watch him do what a real man does.
And I do.
Father takes her. And I like it.
Mother cries. Cries cries cries.
Because that's all she does. Because that's all they ever do; the girls. The whores that I pay for. I've cut a few. Dug a hole for two. It spiraled. Once. Twice.. Four times? They'd screamed, defied me. So I did what was fated, intended. Killed them, explored their cold holes with my dick.
But I swear it never happened.
Which is why I've never bothered to tell Hatake. And if it had happened (in a dream wherein another, perhaps), the fault was never mine to begin with.
I watch her, Sakura, the swine, dead-eyed, as she continued to blather on about several which boorish inanities in regards to Naruto.
My hand reached from across the table in order to brush my fingertips against her lips the moment I could bear no more, hushing her softly. I looked into her eyes. I traced the seam of her mouth. I felt it parting. Her hot breath snaked itself towards my wrist, sating beneath my sleeve. Her face reddened, audibly choking on her own shit so that she finally ceased from.. speaking.
I was angry. Impatient. Broken and shattered with throngs of lovelorn sonnets choked within my throat; sonnets for my Naruto.
Such ire aflame, this searing rust of need that the child had abandoned me with that evening with every step that he dared to take further away from me. How he refused to look at me, refused to speak to me, refused me. Me.
It was quiet. Very quiet. I could trace Sakura's heartbeat from the outer planar of her chest with my eyes. Count each pulse. Hate each one, kill each one.. End each one from somewhere in my mind so that Naruto would be mine. Take him, steal him, make him pay..
Though, ha, 'thievery' it wouldn't be at all because he had been Mine the very moment I had loved him, seen him; sought him.
And you simply must know that whatever I want, or care to attain, becomes just as so. My own. And no law, nor whore, could stop this.
I slid my chair towards her, loudly kicking away the dinner table so that I set the least amount of distance between her and I, just enough to keep my chest from touching hers.
She sat frozen.
My fingertips slid and brushed towards her chin, gently, until they fell and traced the tract of her beating neck. I made sure to look at her, my brow slanted just enough. Furrowed, just enough, so that I perfectly exuded my plastic desire to fuck my cock up into her cunt hard and fast.
And I knew immediately that she liked it, wanted it, that I had won, because she leaned in, begging me for more. A slag could only uphold so much restraint. I found myself hardly being able to blame the unpaid whore, for what mindless minx could possibly reject all that I am?
"Tell me," I whisper to her, the palm of my hand falling upon the unimpressive mound of her left breast, "Does Naruto have his parents?"
She swallows, I hear her, and my hand tightens around her tit. "K-Kushina.." she says as her thighs begin to tremble, "Was a.. kind person.."
I lent towards her ever further, encouraging her, lifting her legs to rest on either side of my waist so that I now sat in between her. Her ass is nearly on my lap now, she's hardly on the chair. She chokes on air. She gasps, her hands clenching hard onto my shoulders.
"Go on," I tell her.
"Sh-she was a cashier at the nearby grocery store.." She pauses. I could feel her hesitation begin to brim. The whore cares yet for the child, for my Naruto. But there is nothing to fear, and my hand assures this when it slips in between her legs, faintly encircling the clothed pulse of her clit there. She mewls, and then, she continues. "A-Always smiled. We exchanged a few texts n-now and then.. b-before the fire."
I smile. The mother is dead. Burned. Churned into a cindered crisp.
"And the father?"
"Minato.." My hand stopped momentarily, torturing her. "Died.. as well."
And that is all I ever need to hear.
I lent then, reaching for her lips, but before I could ignite the process of a rancid kiss, there was a pounding at the door that happened to cease this.
I stood before she did, sharply shoving her legs away from me. Her eyes grew wary, as though she were stunned by the action. I motioned at the door before she could dare to say anything, however, let alone, think anything.
I crossed my arms against my chest without looking at her. She was a wraith. A wretched wraith. An ugly sin that kept me from my delectable goal, from Naruto. I towered over her. I was more than her. Her unattainable, her dream, her wish, and her desire. She understood this, and so she immediately rushed towards the door, opening it.
I couldn't hardly see who it was on the other end of the doorway, but what I could hear was a horrific bellow of a voice. Like that of a man, an angry one. Though, a man it couldn't have entirely been with the bloating contours of massive tits bulging from its chest.
A woman, then? An exceptionally grisly one? Whatever it was, it nearly tossed Sakura out of the way when it had seen me, stomping over towards my direction with a wicked scorn written across its weathered face.
"The fuck's this?" it snarled. Its breath reeked of alcohol.
I took a step back. A leer traced across my lips when Sakura rushed to get the strange creature away from me.
"A friend, Tsunade," she said, struggling to maintain the smile on her face. "Dr. Uchiha. He came over for dinner earlier-"
Tsunade. The woman in the picture frames. My eyes narrowed, recognizing now her hair and her face.
Eager to rid of the new, irritating intrusion, I extended my hand, offering it. The snarling pig, however, refused it, and nearly bit out at me, spitting a slob of secretion at my feet before she attempted to punch me. Sakura gasped, struggling to keep the drunken hag in place.
"Tsunade, please, you're drunk-"
"Uchiha, huh? You and your fucking family can rot in a pile of steaming shit, you know that? Damn godless, uncharitable fuckers! I'll rip your fucking face off!"
My hands began to sear, I could admit to you. I was trembling for the opportunity to cut her. To maim her. To fuck her until she bled, pled, and ripped in half. But, of course, I did nothing. And nothing it would be even when she managed to release herself from Sakura's hold, effectively slapping me across the face.
There was a long, rather uncomfortable silence.
Sakura stared at me, wide-eyed, possibly on the verge of fainting to the thought of my superfluity amount of possible reactions. The hag breathed angrily, heavily, but I grabbed her wrist before she could lash at my face again. She froze when I twisted her wrist back, cracking the intended tendon. She knew then not to fuck with me, because her muscles relaxed, and only her bestial snarling remained.
"We could discuss 'charity' over fine wine from within the comfort of my private office, if you would like. Then, we could, perhaps, treat you to a.." my gaze dwindled subtly to her breasts, "renewed breast implantatio-"
"You little shit," her other hand suddenly shot to my collar, clenching onto the expensive fabric with a force that was not meant for the arms of a woman, completely ignoring the cleaving pain that I made sure to twist further into her opposite wrist. "Think I'm scared of you, kid? I'll break your every bone. Fuck your sissy white ass with my highest heel. You'd be fucking smart to leave my niece and Naruto alone, you manipulative, selfish fuck."
I leered at her, showing her teeth, giving her a look that spoke in provoking whispers. She gave a hellish glare in response, a glare that only a devil's favored bawd could ever hope to conjure up.
"Is this the part where I should feel threatened by a drunken, haggard shrew?"
She growled almost inhumanely. I tightened my grasp on her wrist the more she dared to look into my eyes, quietly watching her quell the need to writhe in pain. The bone would snap any second now.
My lips itched in anticipation.
Unfortunately, Sakura somehow tore the hag away before the wrist in my hand could crack broken, causing the clinching hold on my collar to comfortably disperse. They pushed each other around, seemingly disagreeing on how I should be treated or some such fucking absurdity like that. There was a clamor of noise, of yelling, of screaming, of accusing fingers and looks, of all that women do.
I watched blankly. Infuriated. Silently aflame in a cesspool of distress. At that time, I would have already lain with Naruto in his bed, breathing in his scent, kissing him, shoving my dick into his skull, if it weren't for this.
Somewhere along the moment that Sakura went pleading with the hag outside, however, a memory began to settle in.
I recalled my father's anger on a Christmas night, some years ago. An anger that nearly destroyed half of the entire house, that broke my brother's jaw, that left me crying like a withered fuck from somewhere in a corner as I watched it all. It was something in regards to a house, of a man outside who came every night to threaten my father with the law, suing, money, and the like.
My father owned countless property, assured and prideful in both his composure and endless fortune. The man outside, however, never failed to taint this, to make my father exceedingly angry. A beast.
It was a man with incredibly long white hair, I remember, begging for his house back; pleading that he and his wife had worked hard for it, that he and his wife had been 'cheated'. That he and his wife cursed all that we owned. And I suppose that is why it occurred to me in that small, insignificant moment that the psychotic crone outside who'd dared to lash out at me that night had been the man's said 'wife'.
Nothing at all important, see. And even less so when Sakura had stepped back inside, locked all three locks, sighed, and turned back to look at me.
I didn't give her a chance to apologize for anything. I honestly didn't give a breathing, pliable fuck about the whole situation. It took me three steps to stand directly in front of her in order to clasp onto her wrist, and a few more to lead her into the room that I had analytically guessed as being hers (the one right across from Naruto's).
Amidst the regrettable process of kissing the rancid planar of the slag's mouth, I reached down in between her, cupping a handful of her slit in my hand. She mewled, shook, and then I threw her onto the bed, closing the door behind me so that Naruto wouldn't wake to such indecent atrocity.
I stripped her, but I remained clothed, if not for the loosening of my pants and belt. I found it difficult to become aroused. The sight of her, I think, made it increasingly challenging. Her breasts were not at all to my liking, and her figure was.. displeasing.
I had to choke her until she begged for me to stop in order to attain some sort of hardening to my cock, and then I was forced to let her suck me off so that I might've been able to maintain an erection hard enough to fuck up into her.
I don't think I looked at her the entire time. I pictured my only as the one beneath me, I pictured Naruto. I could hardly hold out the pretense of the illusion for no longer than a few moments, however, for there was no plausible way that that would be how he would feel when I finally slipped inside him. No.
Not at all..
I fucked her with a condom, and when I bored of that, I turned her around so that I could sodomize her. She cried, said she'd never done anything like it, that she 'wasn't ready'. I ignored her. I held her wrists against her back, pushed her head down into the mattress, and gave it to her hard until I came with the ineffable thought of Naruto's lovely eyes lingering in my mind.
I pulled out and immediately softened. I excused myself to the restroom. I believe I vomited countless times before I gained enough sense to peel off the condom.
When I returned, she was naked underneath the covers, the lights dimmed as they initially were, and by the one God, I swear it took all of my love and desire for Naruto in order to go through with the unfeasible deed of sleeping with the loose bitch.
And, somehow, I did.
Her filthy hands loomed my body, unbuttoning all that she could until I was left shirtless, beltless. Said she was sorry for 'not trusting me earlier' and 'making things awkward'. I nodded stiffly, attempting to calm the unbearable need to sprint into the bathroom to scrape my dick raw. To bathe in bleach.
She asked to see me again. She asked several things, actually. Prying for a conversation that I clearly didn't want, laughing girlishly at countless which stupidities so that I might have been seduced into giving her head, perhaps. I said and did nothing, however, and stared only at the ceiling, waiting until she finally fell into some sort of sudden sleep amidst her one-sided conversation in regards to shoes and clothing.
I waited close to three hours, completely still and silent. She roused against my arm several times, freezing me into a cold death that spoke to me in dangerous threats of her waking and never going back to sleep again.
I had only one, single, precious opportunity to see Naruto alone in a bed that night. To be cleansed of the filth that lingered yet on my cock and skin. To finally be inside my daisy, boyish nymph.
I pulled on my dick a few times, safely quelling the sheer excitement for what lay just across the hall. I trembled in heaving arousal. Panted quietly as I stiffened and leaked with painful incompletion whilst my skin heated with the insatiable longing of the lovely, blue-eyed child.
I wanted him like I wanted none else. I needed him like the wine in my glass. I longed for him with an ardor that would set a flame further aflame. To claim him, what was mine. To allow him to feel, to show him, just how much he'd hurt me when he dared to walk away from down that wretched hall.
How he'd turn his back on me as if I'd meant nothing to him at all.
I slid Sakura from off my arm and shoulder when enough time seemed to have passed, and with a speck of spectral stealth, I slipped from underneath the covers and off the bed without stirring her too greatly. She moaned sleepily, caressing the empty space I had once been in.
I took nothing with me when I stepped out of there.
The smell of honey, of oak, of musk, and of all that exudes warm milk and innocence.
So pure of thought. Carved, etched, and painted by a god-lent grace.
Forgive my wishes to be always near him, he whose small, pink lips placate.
I left my breath, as well as my restraint, somewhere far behind me the moment I slipped into Naruto's room and saw him. He slept like no other ever could. My dilemma grew thick. I knew not whether to grow angry, smitten, enraged, saddened, or crazed with my love for him.
All I knew was that he was perfect. Was lovely. Was worthy, had all of me. That I was his. That he was mine. That I needed his skin in my mouth, the taste of him. That I needed to fuck into him. Fuck it, his hole, until it seeped white with my seed in fervent, glistening greed. That he would whisper to me how much he wanted it. How hard he wanted it, how fast, and how deep, my name.
My fingertips traced him gently, the contours of his childish face. I shivered. I nearly sobbed at the feeling of his skin, nearly collapsing onto the floor knowing that I had slept with another that was not, indeed, him. That I had deceived him in some way. That I had hurt his throat with my cock the day before. The thought of ever losing him..
Helpless, I fell to my knees when the thoughts grew too great and too real. My emotions for him, far too overwhelming.
I wished to dress him in wealth. Bathe his smooth skin in silvern silk, wrap him tightly and securely in golden chain, kiss his lips until I couldn't possibly kiss his lips anymore.
This child who overcame me, made me fall into lovesick swoon between the sin and the cliff. And much had I preferred the sin (this blond, blue-eyed sin), for the sin was far too sweet, and the cliff, not at all sufficiently steep to have allowed me death from the fall alone.
"Naruto.." I lent, whispering his name. "God, Naruto." I licked his lip once, his cheek. I tasted him, his soft breathing. "You're beautiful.. So beautiful."
He groaned quietly, rousing so that he hugged his stuffed animal closer to his chest. His yellow brows knitted lazily in confusion amidst the haze of his dreaming. I stared in utter awe, taken, the moonlight from the window just enough to allow the lovely outline of his small body from beneath his covers to become visible and obvious.
I licked my lip, bit it, as I grew increasingly provoked. His hole must have been so warm by then. Wet for me. Tight, and ready.
I traced a tract of kisses all along his neck, tempting him to wake. He wouldn't, however, and I grew impatient all too soon. I bit sharply at the nape of his neck, all teeth and tongue, sucking passionately, slowly, milking him awake. His eyes fluttered open immediately, completely freezing at the sight of me. I could hear his heart race when I pulled away from him, kissing him softly.
"S-Sasuke..?" he croaked, his voice laced with surprise.
I was helpless not to stare into his eyes. Tremendous orbs of ocean blue, lashes so inexplicably long.
I nodded, tracing the pink seam of his lips with my own. My hand snaked eagerly down in between me, rubbing frantically against my throbbing cock, caressing the skin, fucking the slit just enough with my fingertip.
I gasped onto his lips, watching him with lidded eyes and furrowed brows as he watched me in return.
"What's wrong, Sasuke..?" he asked in a worried whisper, his small hand reaching to rest against my cheek. "You look like you're gonna cry.. Are you okay?"
My lips swelled and reddened to the erotic rhythm of his touch. My cock frothed and twitched with fluid from within my palm. I was aching to shove it in him. To fill him, to suck him dry, only to fill him again and again and again all night long.
"Naruto, do you love me? You do, don't you?"
He giggles at the gentle kisses I give him all across his whiskered complexion, running his tiny fingers through my hair whilst he nods feverishly against my cheek.
"Say it, Naruto. Say it."
Please just say it.
"Love you lots, Sasuke."
And that was all I ever needed in the lasting integral of my life.
I pulled away from him, standing.
He watched with widened eyes as my hand grew wild on my cock. He noticed my nudity, causing him to cower against the headboard of his bed, harshly hugging at his toy, hiding his face.
This further increased my desire to fuck his brains out.
"You scream, I won't love you anymore," I tell him. "You tell anyone," I pause to pull the covers away from his body, tossing his toy aside so that he would look at me, "I hurt her." I point at the wall, towards the direction of Sakura's room. "Understand?"
He nods slowly, watching me with palpable fear written all over those enormous blue eyes. Maybe there were tears there. I don't remember. All that mattered was the incoming feat of his small, deflowered ass ripped open and gaped around the pole of my cock.
I climbed onto his bed in one swift motion, straddling him into submission. He was defenseless, and he knew it. He whimpered when I began to undress him, ripping off any fabric that disallowed me from seeing the entirety of him. When he lied naked, I lent to kiss him, tasting his tongue with my own as my hands wrapped around his throat in the process, squeezing lightly.
He began to cry. He quivered. I could feel the tears falling. It bothered me.
I reached my hand beneath, frustrated, rubbing his prick alive so that he could hopefully stop crying.
There was no reason at all for him to cry, see.
I was going to love him when I never grew or felt the need to love anyone or anything else. Fuck him slowly at first, lovingly, instead of just hammering him dead until he drooled my cum and begged for my cock to end him.
No, nothing like that.
I was going to kiss his lips, lick his ass, worship his body the same way he always wanted me to since he first asked me my name – tempted me – at the park.
Because he was special. Because I wanted to fuck him more than just once.
What more could he possibly want..?
Surely this isn't as horrid as I think it is.. right? o-o Revieww. xx