Adult-FanFiction.org : Naruto

A Night Of Firsts
By : Sessakag
Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female > Naruto/Hinata
Views: 3190 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Don't own Naruto, only this story.
Chapter List
- 1-A Night Of Firsts
- 1
STOP AND HEED THIS WARNING
If you are sensitive to drug usage, alcohol, risky behavior and your favorite characters behaving ooc/badly, do not read this one-shot! Skip this and wait for the next one. This is a dark depiction of the lows grief can drive a person to, if you don ’t want to read about that, go no further!
Only warning, and you all know I do not make idle warnings. Read at your own risk!

Prompt: Collage AU

A Night Of Firsts

College was a time of discovery.
It was a time for wild parties and unprecedented freedom, a time where naive teens gain their first taste of adulthood.
A place for one to experiment and uncover new things about oneself amongst their peers.
As she stared dead-eyed into her cup, inhaling the fumes of rum, gin and cola, Hinata couldn’t pretend that that was what this was.
She wasn’t experimenting.
She wasn’t finding herself…
Lifting the cup to her lips, she tilted the bright red container, grimacing as bitter liquid slipped down her throat.
It burned her throat and brought tears to her eyes.
Stifling the overwhelming urge to choke, she stubbornly tipped it back more, swallowing as fast as she could, getting half-way through before stopping to cough her lungs out.
This was her first party, her first drink, her first time venturing out into the real world.
She wasn’t here to have fun.
She wasn’t here to experience the novelty of a college get together.
She was here to forget…
To wipe her mind clean of Hinata Hyuuga and her ugly past and uglier present.
To wipe away the harsh reality that her bestfriend, the boy she’d grown up with from the cradle, one-third of her trio group, at the tender age of eighteen, was no longer apart of this world.
He was gone.
Dead.
She lifted the cup again, fighting the agony in her chest with the burn of alcohol, refusing to stop until she reached the very bottom, until she found the promised relief of inebriation. A strange heat spread in her belly as the last few drops passed her lips, the sensation incredibly foreign and heady, stirring in a way she’d never felt.
It wasn’t what she wanted, but it was a start.
A group of girls found her on her third cup, giggling like they were at a comedy show, teasing her about her nerdy, un-stylish clothes, accurately accusing her of sneaking into a party she wasn’t invited to, that this was clearly her first rodeo and she was doing it all wrong!
If she really wanted to get high, if she really wanted to party, she should pop a couple of mollies.
Hinata didn’t know the term.
She’d never drank before tonight.
She’d never taken more than aspirin before tonight.
The very idea had always been scary, repugnant to her.
She was a good girl.
She didn’t do those kinds of things.
She wasn’t raised to behave recklessly and irresponsibly, but…
She wanted to feel good, she wanted to feel happy and free, she wanted to feel everything her new friends told her she’d feel.
Anything but the emptiness in her heart, anything to take the pain from her soul.
She took them with little thought, with little care for anything other than the promise they held.
The world changed.
It came alive.
It touched her and she touched it.
She danced for hours, losing her mind to the music and the hypnotic sway of bodies all around her. Happiness wrapped her up in it’s tight embrace, stroking her torn soul like a newborn, stitching the pieces of herself back together, every breath that left her lungs tasted like rainbows, every brush against her skin a caress she felt in every nerve on her body. She was careening through reality, spinning amongst the stars, laughing as she hadn’t laughed since the devastating tragedy just two weeks ago, as though the most painful weeks of her entire life had never happened at all.
This was what she wanted.
This was why she was here!
This was the artificial peace she needed so bad!
She was stumbling down the hall an endless time later, following her crowd of girlfriend’s down a unfamiliar dorm hall.
This wasn’t her University, she didn’t know where she was going.
Weaving drunkenly and giggling like a madwoman, lost in her own world of intoxication, she broke off from the group and wandered away.
For a moment, the doors she passed looked like the ones from her dorm.
Her dilated eyes squinted, her foggy brain making connections that made no sense.
She knew these numbers, she’d seen them before!
12, 14, 16…
They were getting close to hers!
Her number was 22!
She stood wobbling in front of number 22, staring hard at the swirling numbers, hand fumbling for the knob.
She opened the door and nearly bludgeoned her nose on the wall as she stumbled inside.
Everything looked different.
She didn’t remember her room being so small, and what was with all the sports memorabilia and clothes all over the floor, and why were the sheets on her bed bright orange?
She snorted.
Somebody must of rearranged her room and decorated it like a boy.
Walking as though the floor was full of molasses, Hinata spacewalked to the single twin bad and dropped face first into the pillows.
The sheets felt amazing on her skin, the unfamiliar scent wafting from her blankets mind blowingly good…
Someone shook her, hard.
“Ay, you good?”
She rose with a start, head swimming pleasantly as she gurgled a response. It was dark, but from the window, a sliver of moonlight illuminated the person shaking her.
Blonde hair, blue eyes, orange hoodie and tanned shorts.
Handsome, in that rugged sorta way and his cheeks had weird lines that she found drunkenly fascinating. He smelled just like her sheets, but with a heavy overtone of alcohol.
She toppled, or almost toppled.
Strong hands held her up right.
“Hmmm, how come you’re in my dorm?” she hummed.
“You’re in my dorm,” he glanced over her clothes, the baggy letterman jacket emblazoned with her university’s logo, her unfashionable ankle length dress and geeky little hair bow, then barked a laugh, “you get lost on the way to the library, or something?”
She stared at him, turning over the insult in her mind, knowing she should be offended but bursting into an unladylike snort instead.
“You’re fuckin loaded,” he laughed, “what animal got you fucked up freshman?”
“Hmmm, Mia, and Kai, and Yuki and Shizukaaaaaa,” she singsonged.
He propped her on the wall his bed was pushed against and sat next to her, nearly toppling himself as he sat heavily.
She trilled mirth, filling the room with bubbly giggles, “you’re f-ed up too!”
“F-ed up?” he hooted, “the fuck? You don’t cuss?”
“Nuh uh,” she confirmed, nodding though she meant to shake her head.
“Not even when you’re so fucked up you’re passed out in somebody else’s dorm?”
She got it right this time, shaking her head wildly, then reaching for his shoulder when the world spun long after she stopped.
“That’s some dumb shit,” he chuckled, staring drunkenly at the ceiling, “you’re backwards as fuck.”
The hilarity of his words sent her into another round of hysterics, she laughed until her sides ached, then laughed some more, the blonde stranger joined her, lost in his own drug induced good feels.
“How the hell you wind up here?” he asked, “your letterman’s got the Suna logo, why the fuck you slummin’ it in Uzushiro Uni?”
“Hummm,” she stared at the far wall, trying to remember, “I met this girl at the-” she snorted a laugh, “at the library.”
Her companion/stranger shook the bed with his amusement, his low rumbling mirth kick-starting her own.
“Shh, shh, let me finish!” she trilled, shaking his shoulder, “mkay, mkay, see I was at the- don’t laugh! Come on!” she shook him again, fighting not to join in, “she met me in there, that place with all the books, she asked me where she could find a book on umm…umm, I don’t remember but she dropped this flyer when she left, I picked it up, saw it was about this party so I took the train and came here!”
For some reason, they thought that was the funniest story in the world.
They laughed again, crying mirthful tears before gasping for breath for several minutes. When they were calm and (somewhat) in control, they started talking about everything and nothing.
Nonsense and deep stuff.
Midway through, something happened.
He reached in his pocket, and pulled out a baggy.
She glanced at it, her sluggish brain slowly placing the name of the white powder.
The big C…
“You mind?” he asked, his eyes slightly hostile, as though he’d whipped out blow before and been judged harshly.
She shook her head, watching wide eyed as he whipped a small reflective tray from between his mattress, then reached inside his pocket for a rolled up bill. Everything felt surreal as he drew three lines and snorted two.
He pinched his nose after, sniffing harshly several times.
She was out of her element, so far beyond anything she’d ever been near that it all felt like one long, crazy dream.
He turned to her, oceanic orbs piercing, holding the rolled bill out to her.
“Wanna hit?”
There wasn’t a thought in her brain that told her not to, there wasn’t even a thought that told her to do it. She was mindless as she moved closer and reached for the rolled up bill.
He shifted, handing her the tray.
She place the bill to her nostril, then hesitated, unsure how to do it.
He chuckled, “just inhale and move it across, quick snort, nothing to it, ‘ttebayo.”
Leaning down, she clumsily inhaled, rearing back as it burned, nose itching fiercely.
“Shit, you really did it,” he laughed, taking the bill back as she sniffled, “didn’t think you were that type of girl,”
“What,” she snorted, “type of girl did you think I was?”
“Fuckin stuck up,” he replied, grinning like a fool, “one of those goody two shoes that’s always got her nose in a book and a broom up her ass, dattebayo. The kinda girl that don’t know shit about how to have fun.”
“I used to be,” she admitted cheerfully all smiles and giggles.
She was teeming, pumped full of energy, and feeling absolutely euphoric.
A soft breath left her lips as she tilted her head back and closed her eyes, feeling the air around her, the blissful vibes of life on her skin.
“You dress like you’re still that girl,” he pointed out, tossing the mirror and baggy to his bedside before scooting his butt to the head of his bed, resting his head against the wall as his heavy lidded gaze stared back at her, “one party, a couple pills and coke don’t change you over night, princess.”
“Maybe I still am, deep down, maybe that goody two shoes is buried under all this crap,” her smile faded, she turned, staring at her companion, showing him the naked mess of her destroyed soul, “when you lose somebody it…changes you, you know?” throat tight, voice shaky, she whispered, “from the moment you hear, everything’s different. You’re different.”
Silence spread between them, thick as a miasma.
He was quiet, eyes alight with the rush of his high, but his sapphire depths were also pensive, liquid pools of the pain she saw in the mirror.
In that moment, she knew that he knew too.
He knew it the way she knew it.
She saw her own pain reflected in his eyes, a terrible pain in him that she recognized in her, that same desperation and soul decay she fought every second of every day. It was raw and unpleasant, so achingly familiar it was as though she’d met a long lost friend.
Who had he lost?
What heartbreaking death had put that look in his eyes?
“Yeah, I feel ya,” he said, gazing down at his hands, “that fuckin’ emptiness in your chest, ya know? You do anything to fill it with something…” he muttered, looking at the nearly empty baggy, carding fingers through his messy hair, “who’d you lose? Somebody close?”
Why…
Why did he have to ask her that?
She was feeling it again, and she didn’t want to.
She sucked in a shuddering, fingers fisting the sheets below her as an image of dark hair and darker eyes flashed through her mind.
A smiling face she’d never see again.
A brother not of blood but of heart, gone from this life.
It ripped everything out of her.
Everything good, everything happy, everything hopeful and joyful was gone, leaving behind a festering cauldron of agony untold, a fierce torment her bible thumping father had warned her would befall a sinner beyond the gates of Hell.
She was messed up, intoxicated and high and it still hurt, and she didn’t wanna talk about it but it hurt.
“He was my friend,” she was crying and she didn’t realize, “my big brother and-”
She touched her chest, a sob bursting from her throat, hoping he’d know what the gesture meant, that he’d know without her saying how deep her agony ran.
How torn apart she was inside.
He sighed long and hard, his throat working several times.
He knew.
Reaching under his bed, he popped open a bottle of something clear and strong smelling, took a swig then handed it to her.
Weeping like the broken soul she was, Hinata took it and took a swallow.
They spent the next hour drinking and talking, Hinata unloading her pain in an ugly drunken session of crying and laughing over past memories, lamenting circumstances and mourning the future.
She crawled into his arms at one point, seeking comfort and finding it.
He told her about his recently deceased mother, the two months he’d spent lost and confused.
How he’d wanted to crawl into the casket with her.
He was…nice, this stranger, and he knew, he understood.
He connected with her in a way nobody had since it happened, he didn’t give her cheesy words and religious spiel, he didn’t try to convince her this was some grand plan she just didn’t understand. He acknowledged how f-ed up the situation was.
How much it just…sucked.
Maybe that’s why she initiated the kiss, or maybe she was high and emotional and lonely.
Whatever it was, in that he understood too.
His kiss was as desperate as hers, his hands just as eager as he ripped her clothes from her the way she had his.
It didn’t cross her mind that she was out of control, that she was making a mistake.
That she was behaving recklessly, and was setting herself up for pain later down the line.
She was on autopilot.
Running on pure instinct and contrived emotion.
She was hurting and wanted it to stop anyway she could.
And Lord above did it stop her hurt!
His hands were rough on her breast, plucking her nipples, rolling them with his thumbs, sucking on them wet and hot, shocking her system with her first taste of carnal pleasure, and when he touched her down there, in that secret place no one had ever been, it felt like she’d taken another molly.
He was clumsy and uncoordinated, and she didn’t know if he was a virgin too or just too drunk to keep a steady stroke on her clit but it was maddening.
Bouncing between not enough and just right.
He kissed her again, abandoning her clit to spread her thighs, his shaking breath panting against her mouth as he reached down and aligned their sexes.
She cried out a sound of pain as he shoved several inches inside her, fingers digging into his hard shoulders.
“Relax,” he whispered huskily, curling his hips, forcing another two inches she didn’t think she could handle, “fuck your pussy’s tight,” he groaned, a shudder running through his larger frame, “you a fuckin virgin or something?”
“I-Is that a p-problem?” she questioned, concern marring her brow, face contorted in a wince.
“What the fuck,” he muttered to himself, then said, to both of them, “you picked the worst dick for your first time, ‘ttebayo.”
She didn’t know what he meant…until she knew what he meant.
Thick, long, he filled her struggling walls well beyond their limits. She was drunk, high and reckless, but it wasn’t enough to dim the pain of his penetration. He wasn’t small by any means, and by the time he bottomed out she was close to tapping out.
It was too much!
He stretched her wide, was lodged so deep she felt like he’d split her in half.
“Breathe,” he growled against her mouth, his groin pressed flush to hers.
She filled her lungs, wondering when she’d started holding her breath.
He moved, slow and deliberate, stroking her insides in a torturous glide that felt. His low groan rumbled against her neck, his big hands groped and caressed.
He was rough and greedy.
Sucking on her flesh, nipping her skin.
She clutched his hips with shaking thighs, latched onto the hard, muscled planes of his contracting back as high pitched sounds of discomfort, of ecstasy tumbled from her throat. He was on her and in her, his pace sluggish yet ruthlessly pounding and it hurt but felt so good she felt like she was coming already. There was pressure and pleasure, she couldn’t tell if it was his huge cock stroking her sensitive walls or if she was actually orgasming that was causing the sensation.
His bed creaked, the headboard crashed rhythmically, mirroring his harsh thrust.
His fingers found her nipples, pulling and tugging.
She whined beneath him, liquid lust pooling in her lower belly, and that’s when it changed.
When everything heightened.
When she was no longer holding on for dear life, but tugging him into her to make her feel good faster, harder, and even in this he heard her quiet plea.
Grabbing her hips in a brutal grip, he fucked her the way she wanted, the way she needed, quick and wild, reckless and careless with all the force of his heartache and grief behind each thrust. The slap of wet flesh filled the room, the squelch of her cunt lewd to her own ears. The piercing stare of his drugged out eyes boring into her own exciting.
He lifted her leg, changing the angle.
She arched, clawing his tanned flesh, wailing her bliss to the heavens above.
The intensity felt amazing but painful at the same time.
She felt free and out of control, beyond reality and pain and death and God nothing in this world could stop her!
Nothing could touch her!
She was invincible in this fragile world!
She felt cleansed somehow, that poison in her chest purged in the face of her current intensity, all her woes and lows paling in comparison to tonights…depravity.
Terrible tension built in her abdomen, frightening in it’s strength and voracity.
She wasn’t confused this time, nor was she unsure.
She was about to cum.
When it hit, she knew it would destroy her from the inside out.
Moaning and crying, trembling all over, she gave herself up to the whirlwind of climax.
Her toes curled, her hips lifted, her eyes grew blind as she soared.
XXXXXX

Hinata pressed a hand to her throbbing skull, tired eyes closed tight as she waited.
Anxious, she snapped them open and glanced at the time on her phone, ignoring the sixteen missed messages from Kiba, the three voicemails waiting.
She couldn’t deal with him right now.
She hadn’t been able to deal with him since Shino passed and for the life of her she couldn’t understand why.
She didn’t understand why she was ignoring him.
Why she was pushing him away.
Why she had done what she did three months ago.
She didn’t know who she was anymore.
What would Shino say, if he knew what she’d done that night?
This isn ’t you, Hinata.
She swallowed hard, setting her phone down again.
It hadn’t been her.
Not all of it.
Pressing the heel of her hands to her eyes, she fought the urge to burst into tears all over again for the millionth time.
Her phone beeped, blaring the familiar tone of her alarm.
With shaking hands she reached for the little stick on the counter, her heart pounding as it decided her future.
Hinata stared wide eyed at the little plus on the white stick.
It was positive.
Telling her what she already knew deep down.
She was pregnant.
XXXXXX
This was another story that I had planned, though the premise is a bit different. I have a love for ‘the one night stand knocked up trope’ and want to do my own eventually. Anyway, the message of this fic is that grief can take you to terrible places and you can end up doing anything to make yourself feel better, even if the way you ’re coping leads you to even more pain.
Hope you were able to feel that message clearly!
Laters
Sessakag~
- 1
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

A Night Of Firsts	By : Sessakag Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female > Naruto/Hinata Views: 3190 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Don't own Naruto, only this story.

A Night Of Firsts