askerian | *whinewhine*

I really, really wonder where the hell my ability to write smut has disappeared. T_T there was a time anything i wrote was full of innuendo and I had to beat the pervy off with a stick. now? bah.

I must get the pervy back. And to fight my inability to write PWP...

FIRST THREE TO ANSWER WITH THE PAIRING OF THEIR CHOICE (and a situation, if they want) GET A DRABBLE-LENGHT PWP THING.

And this time I swear i won't get so preoccupied with a neat plot that i'll forget all about the smut -- no ~~more than a hint of~~ plot in these! è.é

EDIT/ okay, four it is. ~_____~;;; I swear, you people.

SO.

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majochan: Team Seven blanket fic. ... oh god i have a fic started kinda like that -- NO. NO. PWP I SAID.
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screwfate (XD hahaha): ItaSasu. mmm. *__*
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theninjakitty: ... team eight, pervy use of jutsu... *pondering*
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melhime: NaruSasuSakuKyu, inner saku -- huh. gotta have to think on this one. *pondering*

Hand at his throat, callused, warm -- shouldn't be warm, should be cold like his heart -- weight on him -- crushing him against that wall. He can't breathe. He hurts. There's a hand tracing his bruised ribs, gently, so gently; he'd rather be struck again. It's more real. It doesn't leave him waiting for worse. It doesn't happen. Caresses, more caresses -- sheer torture.

You still lack hatred, little brother.

Whisper in his ear, soft voice; his guts clench. He struggles mindlessly -- not like a ninja, just like a boy who doesn't want to be touched. His wrists are caught, squeezed -- he fights not to scream -- sick crunch again. He doesn't scream. He doesn't. He'd rather be left broken than...

You still lack hatred, and the path you chose... isn't working.

Lips on his neck -- warm, chafed, too real. He tries to yell a denial; his screams of rage are muffled by thick black cloth. The words and the touches are so much worse than any beating he ever received.

We're going to fix that.

He's going to be left broken, all right. He doesn't count the ways.

whinewhine

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