endless_scrolls (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
endless_scrolls) wrote2010-08-05 09:55 am
endless_scrolls) wrote2010-08-05 09:55 am
A Lifetime in Denial
Title: A Lifetime in Denial
Type: Not-So-Drabble
Fandom: Naruto
Theme: Compromising Situation [ Wordcount: 945 ]
Character(s): Tenten, Uchiha Sasuke; brief mention of Orochimaru, Aburame Shino, Haruno Sakura
Pairing(s): Hints of Sasuke/Tenten, implications of Sasuke/Sakura, implications of Shino/Tenten
Warning(s): Sexy tymes, omg, children under 16 should go sit in the corner until it's over ./////.;
Disclaimer: I own nothing but these words.
Note: Based on a plot idea originally made for the RP community of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
circleobetrayal that eventually inspired the fic 'Inheritance of Betrayal.' Theme borrowed from 30_tortures and completely got away from me. In massive form. That I should've broken up into two or three smaller fics, Holy Freakin' Hell. >_>; Part one of three.
Dedicated to:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
its_game_time you can turn Sasuke's head away now
His hair was too long, she thought. And Tenten fought the urge to laugh inappropriately at the notion while she felt his lips press almost desperately against the hollow of her neck. Because of all the things to pass through her conscious, that singular thought had been at the forefront. Not how her nerves tingled at the feel of his fingers brushing along the curve of her hip to grip at them tightly while he continued the rhythmic pulse of his own. Or how the rough exhale of his breath seemed to cool the wet trail that descended down along her collar, causing the kunoichi to shiver at the feeling. No, they all fell short to how oddly wrong it felt when she glided her fingers through the young prodigy's hair in a fit of desire and want... only to find it a few inches longer than she remembered.
Then again, the face she imagined was not the one she would wake up with. Never was. And as handsome as she knew Sasuke to be, this was not the man she dreamed of being with every night. He was miles and miles away in the village of their births, and belonged nowhere near the hole of a hideout where Orochimaru kept as one of his many bases.
Silly, she mentally scoffed. And her breath hitched at a particularly forceful thrust of his hips. -- He was getting close, she knew; only then would he disregard his usual neutral indifference and control in favor of giving in to the more primal portion of his instincts -- But then again, he was probably thinking the same thing of her. That hers was far too long as well, longer than he cared to know or remember. And exceedingly too dark. But to acknowledge that would mean that he would have to forget the fantasy just as much as she did, and settle with the reality they both lived. After all, there weren't many people in the world who possessed pink hair like she did. And Tenten was not prepared to waste unnecessary amounts of chakra to retain the illusion for him.
Uchiha Sasuke was a genius and master of the Sharingan. He should be capable of keeping up his own illusions.
Biting lightly at her lower lip, the kunoichi inhaled sharply as a jolt of pleasure ran the length of her spine at the constant roll of his body, back arching at the feel of his fingers gripping and gliding along the scarred skin. Then her own control began to slip and those same fingers moved to stifle any stray whimper that decided to escape from the young woman's perfectly bruised and puffed lips.
Five minutes later, both fell back against the mattress relatively breathless and physically satisfied. Mentally and spiritually, though, Tenten could not help but feel drained and defeated as she put her back to him.
"...Stop feeling guilty."
Eyes moving to the side in the dark, she remained perfectly still for a moment and let his voice echo through the chamber of her living quarters as well as the kunoichi's mind before responding. "He'll never forgive me."
"He'll never find out," Sasuke grounded out, blunt and to the point as ever.
Sighing softly, she had to admit that the younger shinobi had somewhat of a point. No one else in the complex knew of their affair, let alone anyone back in Konoha. And the both of them had already made an unspoken agreement to never reveal such a thing to anyone. So the chances of word getting back to anyone were meager and nearly non-existence. Sasuke had as much to lose as she did if this secret got out, after all.
But she would know. And the kunoichi knew that it would weigh heavily on her conscious regardless of whether or not Tenten would get away with it.
And besides, as much as she wanted to pretend -- as much as they could pretend -- Sasuke was not Shino. She was not Sakura. And that realization was enough to put this ridiculous arrangement to shame and guilt. Why continue when they both knew the truth behind the lie?
Quietly, she lingered in that thought while the bed shifted with his movements. The springs creaked and groaned softly in protest to the muteness, but still Sasuke rebelled against it. And with a quick snap of the match, there was light in the room, not enough to see the demons hiding in the dark corners of the room, but adequate enough to see his hunched shadow playing against the far wall as he sat at the edge of the bed.
"You had another dream about her, didn't you?"
She didn't turn to face him, disregarding the level of respect she would usually give under normal circumstances. After all, Sasuke had his back to her as well. And talking to his back rendered as much results as talking to his face on most occasions. Instead, Tenten simply continued to watch the movement of his image against the dirt panels that seemed to cage them in, carefully waiting for the telltale signs of his thoughts. Because, she knew, the young Uchiha's struggles could easily be seen in his actions. Especially when one knew where to look.
In that way were the two men in her lives the same.
Whether it was a trick of the light or a realization of reality and his own humanity, the figure on the wall seemed to bow his head even more. In shame, in thought, it didn't matter which. And that was all Tenten needed, to know. "Now who's the one feeling guilty?"
Type: Not-So-Drabble
Fandom: Naruto
Theme: Compromising Situation [ Wordcount: 945 ]
Character(s): Tenten, Uchiha Sasuke; brief mention of Orochimaru, Aburame Shino, Haruno Sakura
Pairing(s): Hints of Sasuke/Tenten, implications of Sasuke/Sakura, implications of Shino/Tenten
Warning(s): Sexy tymes, omg, children under 16 should go sit in the corner until it's over ./////.;
Disclaimer: I own nothing but these words.
Note: Based on a plot idea originally made for the RP community of
circleobetrayal that eventually inspired the fic 'Inheritance of Betrayal.' Theme borrowed from 30_tortures and completely got away from me. Dedicated to:
its_game_time His hair was too long, she thought. And Tenten fought the urge to laugh inappropriately at the notion while she felt his lips press almost desperately against the hollow of her neck. Because of all the things to pass through her conscious, that singular thought had been at the forefront. Not how her nerves tingled at the feel of his fingers brushing along the curve of her hip to grip at them tightly while he continued the rhythmic pulse of his own. Or how the rough exhale of his breath seemed to cool the wet trail that descended down along her collar, causing the kunoichi to shiver at the feeling. No, they all fell short to how oddly wrong it felt when she glided her fingers through the young prodigy's hair in a fit of desire and want... only to find it a few inches longer than she remembered.
Then again, the face she imagined was not the one she would wake up with. Never was. And as handsome as she knew Sasuke to be, this was not the man she dreamed of being with every night. He was miles and miles away in the village of their births, and belonged nowhere near the hole of a hideout where Orochimaru kept as one of his many bases.
Silly, she mentally scoffed. And her breath hitched at a particularly forceful thrust of his hips. -- He was getting close, she knew; only then would he disregard his usual neutral indifference and control in favor of giving in to the more primal portion of his instincts -- But then again, he was probably thinking the same thing of her. That hers was far too long as well, longer than he cared to know or remember. And exceedingly too dark. But to acknowledge that would mean that he would have to forget the fantasy just as much as she did, and settle with the reality they both lived. After all, there weren't many people in the world who possessed pink hair like she did. And Tenten was not prepared to waste unnecessary amounts of chakra to retain the illusion for him.
Uchiha Sasuke was a genius and master of the Sharingan. He should be capable of keeping up his own illusions.
Biting lightly at her lower lip, the kunoichi inhaled sharply as a jolt of pleasure ran the length of her spine at the constant roll of his body, back arching at the feel of his fingers gripping and gliding along the scarred skin. Then her own control began to slip and those same fingers moved to stifle any stray whimper that decided to escape from the young woman's perfectly bruised and puffed lips.
Five minutes later, both fell back against the mattress relatively breathless and physically satisfied. Mentally and spiritually, though, Tenten could not help but feel drained and defeated as she put her back to him.
"...Stop feeling guilty."
Eyes moving to the side in the dark, she remained perfectly still for a moment and let his voice echo through the chamber of her living quarters as well as the kunoichi's mind before responding. "He'll never forgive me."
"He'll never find out," Sasuke grounded out, blunt and to the point as ever.
Sighing softly, she had to admit that the younger shinobi had somewhat of a point. No one else in the complex knew of their affair, let alone anyone back in Konoha. And the both of them had already made an unspoken agreement to never reveal such a thing to anyone. So the chances of word getting back to anyone were meager and nearly non-existence. Sasuke had as much to lose as she did if this secret got out, after all.
But she would know. And the kunoichi knew that it would weigh heavily on her conscious regardless of whether or not Tenten would get away with it.
And besides, as much as she wanted to pretend -- as much as they could pretend -- Sasuke was not Shino. She was not Sakura. And that realization was enough to put this ridiculous arrangement to shame and guilt. Why continue when they both knew the truth behind the lie?
Quietly, she lingered in that thought while the bed shifted with his movements. The springs creaked and groaned softly in protest to the muteness, but still Sasuke rebelled against it. And with a quick snap of the match, there was light in the room, not enough to see the demons hiding in the dark corners of the room, but adequate enough to see his hunched shadow playing against the far wall as he sat at the edge of the bed.
"You had another dream about her, didn't you?"
She didn't turn to face him, disregarding the level of respect she would usually give under normal circumstances. After all, Sasuke had his back to her as well. And talking to his back rendered as much results as talking to his face on most occasions. Instead, Tenten simply continued to watch the movement of his image against the dirt panels that seemed to cage them in, carefully waiting for the telltale signs of his thoughts. Because, she knew, the young Uchiha's struggles could easily be seen in his actions. Especially when one knew where to look.
In that way were the two men in her lives the same.
Whether it was a trick of the light or a realization of reality and his own humanity, the figure on the wall seemed to bow his head even more. In shame, in thought, it didn't matter which. And that was all Tenten needed, to know. "Now who's the one feeling guilty?"