White Pureness | By : UchihaYumi Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female Views: 1439 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Author:
Uchiha Yumi
Title:
White Pureness
Rating: NC-17
Summary: A
strange story. I don’t know why I wrote it, really. I hope you will
R&R, even if you don’t like the story. Itachi x Hanabi, not too
harsh, I promise!
Genre:
Angst/Romance
Parings:
Itachi x Hanabi
Main
characters: Uchiha Itachi, Hyuuga Hanabi
Disclaimer:
I don’t own them and I don’t gain money off this…
Notes: You
know, Hanabi is 7 years old and Itachi is 17. If you don’t like that kind
of things (though I think it’s not too “harsh”) get lost,
please! English is not my native tongue. If you find something wrong, please
tell me!
Special
thanks: To Funny_Neko ‘cause she was the first
to have a look at this fict ( and because she
appreciated it!), and to Lilya-chan, who read it
though “that kind of things are not her piece of cake”. Thanks,
girls!
White Pureness
Men
aren’t allowed to judge other men’s actions. Feelings are something
you just can’t refuse, or bury in the depths of your regretting soul.
That is,
the undeniable truth of our awful existence. We’re just bare toys, utterly
submitted to the hugeness of our sensations, unable to find something to hold
onto while sinking in that black ocean of emotions.
That’s
why we always seek for love, only to drown in the immensity of the warmth that
provides to our wounded heart, as tainted hints of pleasure crawl under our
fired skin.
You
can’t deny it, nor choose. You’re just bound to accept it, trying
to take it for all it’s worth.
When I
first saw her, she was heading to the Academy, her pink school-bag resting on
her shoulders. She was nothing more that a little child, she could have been
six or seven.
I took a
glance at her slender figure: big pale, empty eyes were focused on the ground,
long raven locks framing her rosy face.
A little pure
angel.
Her mouth
was slightly opened, gasping for air as she rushed towards the school’s
entrance.
I began
wondering how pleasant would be just to get lost in her wide, pale, bottomless
orbs.
I silently
followed her around all the day long, my bloody glance staring at her as if I
could drain out of her all of that intoxicating innocence. I felt my soul
slowly falling in the enjoyable world of pure feeling and oblivion.
I found
myself sneaking inside of the Hyuuga’s manor.
The long ample corridors were vaguely lightened by the moonbeams.
Half hidden
by the darkness that night granted me, I headed upstairs, where the
women’s apartments used to be. My footsteps echoed on the wooden floor,
which faintly cracked under my weight.
I activated
my Sharingan in order to find her room. I could sense the dim brightness of her
ethereal aura spreading out of the last door on the left. When I entered there,
she was in her underwear, laying on her side. Her chin was resting on her right
hand, her legs slightly parted.
The sound
of her steady breath filled the air, reverberating in the obscurity.
I sighed,
then bent down to take a glance at her face, half covered by a handful of black
hair.
The perfect
image of innocence.
I moved my
hand to touch her, shivering as I sensed her soft, tender skin brushing against
my fingers. I moved down, reaching her breast-less bosom, her stomach, her
waist, finally resting on her panties. She shifted and let out a breath as I
lowered her knickers and began to slowly caress her inner core, applying a
gentle pressure towards her entry.
Her eyes
suddenly flew open, and she tilted her head to look at me, a mixture of
interest and pleasure painted on her face. She didn’t speak a single
word, and I felt myself pleasantly sinking in the depth of her glance.
“I
want you” I said, placing
myself on top of her, supporting my own weight with my arms.
She
didn’t answer. She just looked at me a bit more, then nodded, tentatively
parting her legs.
I grinned,
removing my fingers, just to lick them sensually and slide them mercilessly
inside of her once more. She moaned, biting her lower lip and clenching her
fists on the blankets. I deepened my motions and she let out a faint cry.
I leaned
forward to kiss her bleeding lips, wholly tasting the bitterness of it. Her
mouth opened when my tongue begged for entrance. She explored my cavity,
cautiously cuddling it, then broke the kiss, needing some air. My lips started
to trail down her neck, her bare chest, her stomach, and I felt her groaning.
I glimpsed
at her. There was no hatred or fear in her expression, just the willing
conscience of the pleasure building up in her body.
I abruptly
took off my probing fingers and placed my inner thigh against hers, slowly
brushing against her entrance, but never really reaching it.
She let out
a loud cry and arched her back, trying to deepen that harsh contact and savour
a bit more of that cruel delight. I smiled as I sensed her moaning and panting,
scratching my back with her little fingers.
“Please” she whispered.
And then I
stopped. I took a quick glance at her face. Her mouth was open, her lips slowly
moving to praise me for more and her eyes widened with pleasure. I caressed her
heated cheeks and then turned, reaching the window.
“I’m
sorry – I said – I won’t be the one to break your
pureness.”
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