Do people often write fan-fiction for their own fan-fiction

Do people often write fan-fiction for their own fan-fiction? Ah well, this was for my friend Maddie because she secretly fangirls over Deidara (only in stealth) and insists my story should end up something like this. (Normally I wouldn't have given in but it was her birthday.)

Except I don't normally writ like this and I'M SORRY IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON BUT THE FIRST PART OF MY STORY IS CRAP! So if you really want to read it it's on my Quizilla account (thesepeopleareus). Maybe once I fix it up I'll post it here.

So yeah. There's more, but the next two parts are the same scene (basically) but from different perspectives.

Oh, and Michiko is my OC, in case you couldn't figure that out. She is somewhat of a vampire, she is blind, and she practically grew up with Itachi (must read story to know why).

Hope you enjoy!

And some people seem to be warned away by this, the first chapter, so just let me say: This is not what the whole thing is like! If you get really disgusted then don't read this one, read chapter 2, then skip 3 and go on! The rest of the story is FINE!! (Well, apparently now we have a little blip in chapter 12, but that's about it.)

Oh, and somehow it seems people get the idea that because all these chapters have different names you can just read the ones you feel like. And you can, I guess, but if you do you'll suffer severe confusion because all the chapters do run together as an actual story.

That is all.

Deidara's Happy Story

Michiko's expression went deadpan. "If I understand correctly, you managed, somehow, to lose and regain both your arms during my absence?"

"Yeah…" Deidara mumbled reticently. "But-"

"Boy, you really need FTC, don't you? Isn't that Sasori's job; to make sure you don't hurt yourself?"

Deidara smirked a little and laughed half-heartedly. "I don't get any sleep thanks to Master Sasori. He hardly speaks to me except to gripe about something, he's so friendly with Eris." Deidara groaned and slapped a hand over his eyes, slowly dragging it across his face. "So very friendly," he grumbled. "All night long."

"Eek," Michiko said blandly. "Didn't need to know that."

Deidara realized he had said something wrong when she shivered, almost dropping the knife. Deftly, he reached over and closed her hand back around the blade's handle. "Sorry. Bad subject."

Trying to lighten the mood, he went on. "Yet, at least I was able to keep you from dropping that knife, with my good as new arms!"

Michiko slammed the knife down on the counter and hunched her shoulders. "Except for that patch of skin that looks like it came off of an elephant's butt."

Deidara winced, glared at the back of her head, and ran his fingers forlornly over the ridiculously obvious wrinkles that ruled the skin around his elbow, up until the stitches. She may have been right, but that was an unprovoked attack that rubbed salt and lemon juice in his wounds. "Geez, don't snap at me," he muttered sharply at her back. "It's not my fault Itachi's left you bitter."

Michiko's hand twitched back around the knife like a vice; as if one would have to pry it from her cold, dead fingers. "Thank you for that one, Deidara. While you're at it," she whispered cynically, quaking, "why don't you take another stab at my heart? Lance me again!" she roared, turning to make a wide arc with the knife. Her expression twisted into a frightening, wide-eyed grin as she screeched, "I know better than anyone how a little physical pain takes your mind off your troubles!"

Deidara flailed his arms as he backed away in an attempt to avoid the blade whistling past him, but it sliced through the tip of his finger as he retreated.

The pain screamed and throbbed for a moment, eventually subsiding to a dull roar before the blood came hot and fast. He was instinctively putting it to his mouth when Michiko's hand shot out and snatched hold of his wrist, fingernails worming into his skin.

"Wait."

Well, that was rather redundant; he was already waiting, since she still had a dire hold on the knife.

Slowly, cautiously, intently, she pulled his hand away from his mouth and closer to hers before popping his finger past her lips. Michiko let out a fusion of a sigh and a moan of pure ecstasy, drawing the blood out with gentle, repeated sucking motions. Soon after that she let the knife clatter to the floor, wrapping her other hand around his wrist as well.

Deidara was getting chills and heat waves rolling up and down his spine at the feel of her tongue winding around his cut and pulling back, only to return momentarily. Still, he couldn't help but wonder if he was just an acting substitute for Itachi. And, as strange as it seemed, he almost pitied him… Though it could be more accurately described as a long desired but undeserved feeling of superiority.

The guy had never been a livewire to begin with or anything, but he had become - if possible - more distant. Not that Deidara was any judge, but Itachi was getting thinner and increasingly pale, with deep shadows like bruises that made a haunt of his eyes. He ignored everyone and everything, for all practical purposes, seldom speaking at all unless to try croaking out a demand. His expression was gaunt, and he drifted from room to room like a ghost. Every motion translated a soul brimming with pain, as if he remained perpetually just beyond the reach of his former emotionless bliss.

Deidara was still pondering this when Michiko's lips crashed into his.

Needless to say he was… surprised… then confused… then ecstatic. It took him a few seconds to get his feet back under him and start kissing her back.

Good job, the voice muttered in approval. Wonderfully executed.

Deidara shoved it away. He had been waiting for this, and he was not about to let such a precious opportunity slip through his fingers; for Deidara, relationships were as hard to find as a bar of soap in the bathtub of life, and twice as hard to hold on to. Hence, the voice was ignored and he got back to the more important things in life. For instance, making out with Michiko like one possessed.

She was putting up a ferocious struggle for dominance, almost winning out when her hands ran up the nape of his neck and into his hair. Yet he did not surrender; he was trying to be more assertive.

Holding her ever more closely, tightly, he slipped his hands just up under her jacket and licked at her waist seductively. He hadn't even noticed that she had been slowly guiding him backwards until his back was to the kitchen counter. She latched onto him and contested his victory by viciously grinding her pelvis into his.

Deidara got a distant, detached feeling that Michiko was trying to outperform him, but that thought didn't survive long. The sensations she created enveloped him in thick folds of rapture.

He utterly failed to bite back a moan, and he felt her smirking in the kiss. That simply would not do. He had as good as waved a white flag, and so he launched one last assault in attempt to claim victory as his own.

Deidara forced his tongue past Michiko's lips, exploring the contours of her mouth. She did not seem to be any warmer on the inside than out, but he enjoyed the rush he got. It was like nothing he ever had before.

He inadvertently grazed his tongue on the tip of one of her fangs. Her saliva stung on the open wound until her tongue zeroed in on his blood and began licking it up in a crazed frenzy. He fought back pathetically, not really wanting her to stop, and lazily opened his eye to a slit.

Itachi stood in the doorway.

Deidara stiffened and froze, glaring at him. Michiko paused, waiting for him to continue, then pushed against his tongue with a frantic note. It could almost be called pleading, even, until she stopped and sniffed the air.

She too bristled at Itachi's sudden appearance, reluctantly pulling her mouth away from his and shooting poisoned daggers at Itachi with her void-black eyes.

Itachi merely stood there, despondently, staring at them with the Sharingan. He wasn't menacing, though; just staring at them like he had passed into the realm where a tortured soul hurts so much it grows numb. He appeared almost fascinated for a moment or two, eyes flicking between them, back and forth, until he faded into a dull, inquiring stare with his head cocked slightly to one side.

Michiko hissed at him in return. When he didn't leave, she moved her arms down to Deidara's back and gripped him tightly, a deep growl welling up from the barrel of her chest. Itachi didn't move, and she snarled at him.

"Mine!"

He started at that, as if waking from a nightmare, looking around feverishly until he faded again and drifted slowly away, not giving them a second glance.

Michiko continued to growl like a demon at the empty doorway, grabbing onto Deidara with increasing ferocity. She stopped when he tilted her head back and kissed her once more.

Once they managed to disentangle themselves several minutes later, Michiko picked up the knife off the floor and stuck it under some running water. Deidara was almost depressed that he was the one panting, until he remembered that Michiko didn't have to breathe anymore. She tried industrially slicing away at the glazed ham that had been intended to go with the now cold fried rice, but stopped after not even a minute.

Deidara hugged her from behind and nuzzled her neck. "This won't impede the progress of your making dinner, will it?" he asked playfully, breathing down her jaw line.

Michiko laughed and turned her head back, taking a moment to run her tongue over his lips.

"Dinner?" she asked softly. "Let's spring for dessert instead."