Blow
She was his best dealer and she let him fuck her sometimes too. Drug Dealer AU
Disclaimer: M for hefty intercourse (trigger warning - aggressive scene), graphic depictions of violence, drug use, implied drug use, rampant drug dealing, language and adult themes. This is a dark and kind of heavy romance. If you are not comfortable with this premise or are under 18, please do not proceed.
Expanded from a one-shot. Will likely be in three parts.
Blow Pt. II
They fuck on ecstasy.
At least they try to. Sakura has lost her mind.
They'd taken the same amount but since she's half his size, she's feeling it a lot more intensely than he is. He doesn't really feel it, maybe a little bit.
They are lying in his bed, facing each other. In the dark. Undressed.
Her palms are flat against his chest. She is lightly feeling him. Curling her fingers and caressing him there, but she's too fucked up to do much else.
He is running his hands all over her naked body.
Up and down her back. Over her ass. The front and back of her thighs.
Through her hair.
Around her neck.
She's going to die.
"I thought you said to never sample the product," she murmurs.
She's fazed out.
"You can do it once or twice, with me," he says.
She's really hot and says so.
"I'm really. Hot," she moans.
They're not doing much more than just nuzzling and kissing.
"Are you making me feel this way?" she murmurs.
He laughs at her, then says, "Yeah, it can be intense."
She is almost mewling as he continues to touch her all over her body. Every part of her that he glides past feels overly sensitive for her.
He moves the placement of her hands from his chest to his shoulders, so he can run his palms down her front.
From there, he moves his touch to her shoulder blades.
Suddenly she tenses, then shakes.
His hands freeze at her back.
"Did you just come?" he asks, shocked.
What the fuck?
Shit.
"Don't get addicted to that feeling. We're just doing it once," he warns.
"Uh-huh," she's only half listening. She still feels crazy.
"That's why you don't use your own product."
That's okay with her. She doesn't really need a stimulant to feel hot like this with him.
Her new job is to count most of his money and keep track of some of his inventory after he sees his distributor.
She thinks she prefers this to dealing.
Sasuke was still paying her to do this work. It wasn't nearly as much, but it was still enough where she had plenty left over after paying rent and her bills.
Selling had been a great way to earn coin and pay things off, but some of the guys on campus had started getting too ballsy.
It's like they'd gotten a taste of small time dealing, flipping a couple ounces they had gotten from her; then they all thought they were kingpins.
She scoffed as she looked across the room at Sasuke weighing five kilos of blow for accuracy.
Yeah, okay.
"What are you staring at me for?"
He lifts a brick off his scale, drops it to the side, then reaches for another one.
"Do your job," he scolds.
She looks down to avert her gaze and quickly gets back to her task.
She was mid-count on several different bands from his various dealers and had lost her place.
The summer had passed by quickly in a haze. Sakura finds herself at Sasuke's house more often. Sometimes to work and sometimes just because.
She's in her senior year now.
She is nervous when she approaches him to explain something for her finance course.
He's sitting at his dining table where he's railed her at least 50 times, writing things down in a notebook with a solitary expression on his face.
Periodically, he turns a couple pages and crosses things out.
He looks up from what he's doing.
She doesn't even consider this table a place to eat dinner. It just looks like a surface to fuck on to her.
She feels herself getting wet.
He eyes her knowingly.
"What's going on?" he asks, sharply.
His focus drops back to what's in front of him.
"Um..." Sakura starts.
She's not sure how she ends up half-dressed and straddling him in his chair, his dick inside of her as he lifts her by the waist on and off of himself.
She has her legs tucked behind her, resting on the top of his thighs.
His eyebrows are drawn together as he fucks her.
"Why do you always look so—" she moans. "—So mad when you're fucking me?" she asks.
He straightens out his expression a little bit, but it doesn't really change much.
"Do I?"
Sakura nods.
"You're tight."
He presses his thumbs into her hips.
"...and I'm concentrating on not coming right away," he grunts.
She smirks and squeezes herself around him.
She grabs at her own chest as he bounces her, then Sakura leans forward and starts kissing under his jaw.
She'd discovered he liked that a while back. It made him the slightest bit shifty and that got her more wet.
"I don't—"
He cuts her off by shoving his tongue in her mouth.
She pulls away from him to finish her sentence.
"I don't understand something for finance," she says, breathlessly.
He drops her onto himself hard there.
He stays deep and groans, his head leaning back, then snapping up again.
Her hands are gripping his shoulders tightly now, her bottom lip between her teeth.
He moves her around in a circle on himself, still deep in her, then up and down, then he comes in her, squeezing her hips as he does it.
She doesn't come, but she's okay with it.
He kisses her chest, then looks up at her face.
"Okay. Show me later. I'll explain it to you," he says.
She nods, pleased.
"I need to finish what I was doing before you interrupted me first," he continues.
He signals at her to get off of him.
She gives him a dirty look as she shifts around to stand.
"You interrupted yourself! You grabbed me," she exclaims.
He smacks her bare ass and says, "You wanted it."
She doesn't deny this.
She bends over to grab her clothing so that she can redress herself.
He's already straightened himself out and is back to working.
She raises her eyebrow at him and the surface he's writing on before she walks off.
It will never be a dining table.
She is home alone in the shower, the bathroom door open.
She screams and covers her body when unexpectedly, Sasuke punches her shower curtain back.
She had been staring off into space, thinking about making a sandwich. She hadn't even heard him come in.
"Oh my god," she says.
She eyes him in fear, the room is steamy and he looks ridiculously mad through the mist.
"What the fuck! How did you get in here?!" she questions.
She smooths her wet hair back and out of her eyes.
He is glaring at her.
"Jesus!" she continues.
He's in an unzipped jacket and an unzipped hoodie with a white t-shirt underneath. His jeans are loose and riding low and his expression is displeased.
He's holding up her house key to her face.
"You left this in the fucking door," he scolds.
She cringes.
"Oh."
She crosses her arms. He was making her cold now by keeping the curtain open for so long.
He proceeds to berate her.
"Don't be fucking stupid. I have money stored here. You can't leave your key in the lock and just invite a random ass motherfucker inside!"
He shoves her key into the front pocket of his pants.
"Sorry," she says, apologetically.
He is staring at her wet, naked body now. Looking her up and down.
"Get out, I have business."
He shakes his head in disbelief at her, then turns his back to leave and wait for her in her living room.
"But I thought I wasn't selling anymore?" she whines.
"You're not."
She's in a towel now, kind of dripping all over her floor.
She had not been able to finish her shower properly and she's a little annoyed at him.
He hadn't informed her that he was going to come through. He'd just shown up, unexpected and unannounced.
She tunes into what he's saying again.
"This guy considers you his connect and you were telling me he was spending enough dough to be a fat chunk of your returns."
She shrugs at him.
"Yeah, so what?"
She grips the terry cloth a little bit harder, then presses it against her chest to absorb some of the moisture that's collecting on her body.
His eyes track her movements, then lift back up to her face.
"You need to pass him off to me," he states.
She pouts at him.
She's standing across from him, and they're not very close to each other. She'd subconsciously lingered close to the bathroom door so she could stay warm from the steam.
"He was annoying though," she grumbles.
"How?"
She looks towards her kitchen. She still really wanted that sandwich too. She looks back at him.
"He was a little handsy," she shares.
He looks unhappy.
His hands now in the pockets of his jacket, his expression becomes accusatory.
"Were you fucking him to make more sales?" he asks, slowly.
"No!" she says, indignantly.
He stares at her a second too long.
She suspects that he does not exactly believe her.
Fuck him. She didn't fuck anyone for extra cash and she's insulted that he would imply it.
She frowns at him, but then gets over it quickly.
His brain was wired differently than most. He seemed to process a hundred different outcomes of a scenario at once, generally drawing to the correct conclusion, but sometimes not.
They are both silent for a minute.
He's getting hard at the sight of her barely covered by her towel.
She smiles like she knows and drops it.
"Like what you see?"
His face randomly looks a little murderous and she falters.
"Don't tease," he says with an agitated groan.
She's shrugging and bending over to retrieve her towel when he storms up to her and runs his hands all over her.
She latches onto his throat with her mouth.
He's late for a meet-up after that.
If Sasuke had been pissed about her key being left in her lock, then whatever level of angry he was right now did not compare.
She had miscounted something important.
Sasuke was really mad at her.
Her eyes are scrunched as he flips out on her in his living room. She's sitting on the couch as he walks back and forth on the other side of the coffee table, alternating between yelling at her then stopping to glare at her.
On the tail end of his tirade, he delivers a low blow.
"Why am I giving you this much responsibility? You're just a fucking kid!" he yells.
Her eyes bug out and then she blinks slowly. She purses her lips.
He's officially offended her.
Sasuke stands in place, unmoving.
He does not apologize, he does not take it back.
He just watches her get up, retrieve her things and storm out.
Sasuke doesn't see or hear from her for several days.
He starts to get worried she's doing something stupid. Something like nailing other guys for example.
He goes to her.
She's just burrowed under a blanket with ice cream and her laptop looking cranky in her bed.
She gives him a dirty look.
After she had left hers in the lock, he'd made himself a key to her apartment without her permission. He had let himself inside.
He's standing in her bedroom doorway, mean mugging her.
"Want some?" she offers her ice cream, cautiously.
He doesn't even like ice cream, but he trudges forward and has some off her spoon anyways.
Standing next to her bed, he stays bent over to give her a kiss, then says, "Sorry."
Sakura eyes him guardedly as he pulls back from her, her expression residually bitchy yet satisfied.
"Put this away," she demands.
She hands him her ice cream and the lid and her dirty spoon uncaringly.
He looks down at the bullshit she's dropped into his hands with irritation, but does her bidding without verbalizing a complaint.
If all he needed to do to earn her forgiveness was eat fucking ice cream and then put it back in her freezer, then whatever. He was down.
She's not fully used to sleeping over yet.
He slept with a gun beneath his pillow and something more like an assault rifle under his bed.
Some nights he held her tight, so tight she couldn't breath.
The heat of him at her back was almost suffocating and she'd want to cry from the overwhelm.
Other nights he would turn his back to her, sleeping on the other end of the bed and pretending she wasn't there.
In the middle was best. He'd toss a loose arm around her and just breath in and out next to her as they slept.
She woke up one morning to him staring at her.
She blinks a couple times as she comes to, her head turned towards him. She is facedown, primarily a stomach sleeper.
"What?" she asks.
Sasuke is lying on his side, facing her. He looks like he's been up for a while.
"You snore," he states.
She stretches her arms above her head and yawns.
"It's cute though!"
"Who told you that?" he questions.
His eyes dart around for a moment, she is fidgeting as she gets less drowsy and it is distracting him.
"My first boyfriend," she says, matter-of-factly.
He makes a face. He asks a personal question that he doesn't think he will like the answer to.
"How old were you when you lost your virginity?"
"14," she says, promptly.
He looks away from her, ashen faced.
"What about you?"
Sasuke sits up now, resting his back against his pillow and the wall behind it.
"Not 14," he says.
Sakura is peering up at him, she's still too groggy to sit up or get out of bed.
"My boyfriend was 18!" she continues.
He glares at her from above.
Christ.
"I'm sensing a pattern here," he mutters.
She smirks at him.
"I don't know why older guys like me so much!"
He doesn't answer her out loud.
I do.
Sasuke reaches over to tap her forehead with two fingers. He tucks some hair behind her ear and then he gets out of bed.
Someone shows up to Sasuke's condo with their weekly drop.
Sakura sticks it through the counter once. Then twice.
It's short. By a lot.
She looks up.
Sasuke is across the room, his hands in his pockets as he listens to the guy request what he needs for next week.
He is in a loose white t-shirt and black jeans, a silver chain around his neck.
She had pointed at the jewelry when she saw it on him earlier.
"Since when do you wear a necklace?"
"It was my brother's. He's dead."
The guy Sasuke is talking to had run out of product earlier than normal.
Then why is it so short…? she thinks.
She is wondering how to communicate this without just saying it out loud.
How did Sasuke handle this before he delegated it to her?
He looks up at her in passing, as if he can sense her uneasiness.
She shakes her head to the side very briefly and looks down at the cash machine, then looks back at him.
He gets it.
She sees him reaching behind his waistband.
She backs away and heads into his room, closing the door with a soft click as the guy begins to scream.
When he'd first started fucking her she hadn't been the best and she had not been moving that much weight.
He hadn't been paying attention to her yet, so he hadn't put too much thought into the fact that he fucked her about once a month.
He wasn't sleeping with anyone else. He literally did not have time. She was convenient and easily accessible for him.
Her 'I'm just here to party and have fun' attitude worked for him too.
She didn't expect anything out of him.
Sasuke couldn't say the same for the majority of women his own age. Most of them wanted a relationship, then marriage and then kids.
He couldn't deal with any of that alongside of what he did for a living. It didn't work and he didn't have the patience for that kind of lifestyle.
He is looking at Sakura now, while she sleeps in his bed next to him. She'd been pressed up against him, making him overheat but he'd been too lazy to move her.
She always fell asleep before him and she usually woke up after him too.
Sasuke stares at her a lot when she's not aware of it, knocked out. Memorizing her features and her body and learning all there is to know of her like this, intimately.
He's not being rushed and he's not being scrutinized for being a creep.
He doesn't really see a problem with it. She had caught him before and hadn't really done or said anything about it.
She unsticks herself from him, half asleep. She removes her shirt so she is topless, then her bra so she is braless, and drops it all to the floor before reattaching herself to him like glue.
Her head turns to his, her eyes shut and eyebrows creased.
He looks down at her.
She wasn't doing any of these movements on purpose, but he felt like she was.
He grabbed at her hair.
Gently moving it from her neck, he bent his head down and inhaled at her skin.
Sakura had seen Ino eyeing them in the hallway as they'd tumbled into her house through her front door. It had reminded her of something.
"Are we exclusive?" she asks, as they're sharing heated kisses.
His hand is cradling her face, sliding down the side of her neck, to her shoulder, behind her back and then it fists into her hair as he moves his mouth against hers.
He pauses and pulls her face away from his, by the back of her hair.
"Have you not been recently?" he asks, voice low.
His hand in her hair tightens uncomfortably.
She tells him the loser that smelled like a Cheeto was the last time she'd been with anyone else.
He thinks back to when that had been. Months ago he's certain. Sometime in the early summer.
They were going into late fall now.
His hand loosens from her hair, then moves down to the small of her back and rests there. He just kisses her more in response.
His other hand is gripping a belt loop on her acid washed, skin tight jeans.
She is on her tiptoes with her arms around his neck trying to reach him, so he bends a little farther down to make it easier for her.
"What are we going to tell Naruto?" she asks.
He makes a sound of displeasure, dropping his forehead against hers.
Naruto was going to kill him.
Her brother hadn't confronted him yet. He hadn't said much of anything to Sasuke these past couple of months.
"You guys are like the same age. He's not gonna be happy," Sakura continues.
How many times throughout the years had he sat there and listened to his friend bitch about how hard it was to take care of his little sister?
Sasuke nips at her earlobe.
He pulls away to say, "He already saw most of what there is to see."
She gives him a light smack on the chest.
"Don't remind me about that!"
She's never asked him if he'd been sleeping around too.
His thoughts focus on this for a bit. She didn't care?
Sakura is bent over in his kitchen, digging through his fridge in her underwear.
He pauses from counting money at the dining table to look at her form.
"There's nothing to eat in here!" she complains.
"Order something," he mutters.
His focus returns to his count, he'd divided the money by each top dealer's geographic region and then subsequently by bill type.
He was trying to assess which area was underperforming the most, in case he needed to do something about it.
She turns back at him and huffs, her hands on her hips.
"Maybe in a bit. Need some help?"
She helps briefly, but he ends up eating her out on top of the money pile.
The dining table is once again used for a purpose outside of its actual function.
He's on his knees on the floor in front of her, his hair messed up from her fingers pulling at it.
His shirt is off from her getting overly excited leading up to this.
"Didn't we just count all of this? It's— it's fucked up now!" she exclaims.
He looks at the now disorganized pile underneath and around her body, annoyed about it for a moment. He hadn't written down what he'd done so far.
He tells her what's been on his mind regarding her lack of interest in who he'd been seeing.
Sasuke grips her ankles tightly to hold her legs open as he speaks.
He's got each of her feet held towards the corners of the wood table, her limberness allowing him to spread her in a wide split.
She gives him a look from above. Her palms are behind her back so she can keep herself upright. She wants to watch what he's doing better.
She was surprised at how comfortable she was, held open in the splits, on his table, so he could lick at her.
Just a couple months ago, she was squirming and trying to get out of this kind of intimacy.
She focused on placating him now though.
"I knew you weren't fucking around with anyone else. It was obvious," she states.
Her bra is see through and he stares at her chest as she talks.
He looks up to her eyes at her proclamation though, glaring at her from below.
What was that supposed to mean?
He wants her to explain further, but he's not going to ask.
She does it anyway.
He goes back to tonguing her and her breath catches.
"Y-you wouldn't have had time. You're always so…"
He sucks on her and she lets out a sound of approval at what he's doing.
"...So busy."
She's too observant for her own good.
That trait comes back to bite him in the ass later.
He's short.
Without her sales, his revenue is not the same and he doesn't have what he needs to meet with his distro.
He's tapping his fingers against his thigh as he sits in her living room, mulling over this.
She's in her bedroom changing clothes after they'd fucked wildly against her balcony door.
She comes out half-dressed.
"What's your deal? Are you low? Don't think I haven't noticed you triple counting money this week."
He glares at her.
"What do you need me to do? There are a couple parties tonight..." she says, trailing off.
He looks away from her.
He doesn't want her to sell anymore, but she cleared more of his inventory than anyone on payroll.
He rubs his fingers at his forehead, then clicks his tongue.
Fuck.
He takes her to her drops in his car.
"Are you coming in?" she asks.
"Fuck no."
By the time he takes her to her third and final stop, they'd been out for three hours.
15 minutes into this one, he's spacing out behind the steering wheel of his car. It's parked a block back and across the street from the frat house she had disappeared inside of.
He's got a good eye on the building from this angle and a smooth route to drive away if needed.
Out of the corner of his eye he spots tell tale red and blue flashing lights. A handful of police cars are rolling up across the street.
He lowers himself in his seat, eyes assessing what's playing out as he sits low. They are going to hit this frat, that much was apparent.
His guess is underage drinking, but Sakura's got a bag of amphetamines and a bag of pot on her big enough to put her away.
She could just ditch it, he reasons, but that would not be ideal.
He flips open his burner and sends her a quick text.
5/0 outside
She responds within the minute.
K
The police are walking in through the front in droves and he spots a sequined, sparkly thing on the roof shimmying down a fucking trellis.
She's barefoot, having ditched her high heeled shoes and she's slinking back to his car in the dark.
He's giving her a disbelieving look as she sneaks into the passenger seat.
He drives off casually.
She gives him a breathless smile.
"That was crazy!" she laughs.
He's not impressed.
"That, was a fucking burn up," he mutters.
"They just wanted to give out booze citations," she shrugs.
She's fiddling around with the contents of her bag.
"I wasn't able to sell most of the stock at that last drop."
He sighs. Great. Still short.
"But I got the money anyway!" she holds up two stacks triumphantly.
He does a double take while he's driving.
"What the fuck."
She laughs.
"I upcharged like crazy and he was desperate because he's been dry since I stopped selling. He paid like quadruple."
"Fucking doucher!" she pumps her fist in the air and falls back into her seat, laughing some more.
He thinks he loves her then.
"Why are you dressed like that?" he questions.
He's stopped by her apartment to take some cash from the chunk he stored there now.
"I'm going to a party!" she says.
She is in a neon colored bandeau top and an opaque, black mini skirt. He can clearly see her form fitting black underwear through the sheer material of the skirt.
He freezes, a little confused.
He'd associated that behavior to her dealing for him. So what was she doing if she wasn't going there to sell?
He asks because he's annoyed.
She scoffs at him.
"I mean I still like to party? I'm going to have fun?"
"Who are you going with?"
"A couple friends."
He's assessing her.
She walks up to him and throws her skinny, little arms around his neck.
"What's wrong? Are you jealous?" she whispers.
She presses her lips to his lightly.
He is being still. Like a statue.
He changes the subject, albeit not by much.
"So how have you been fielding your regulars when they ask to cop?"
His rough hands are resting on the bare skin between her skirt and her barely there top.
She shrugs, "I just tell them I don't sling anymore."
He eyes her with something close to uncertainty.
"None of them get mad? No one from the other night has tried to re-up again?"
"I mean, sure, they're bummed, but no one's done anything crazy."
She looks down at his hands on her body like she's thinking about something, then looks back up at him.
He sighs. He wasn't planning on staying here long. He had parked in a standing zone and had intended to be in and out.
His eyes scan her apartment, thinking of the fastest way to handle this.
"Where do you want to get fucked? Hurry up, I gotta dip."
She smiles at him and grabs one of his hands to pull him along.
"The kitchen counter?"
She pulls under her skirt once they're next to the counter and her panties fall to her ankles. She toes them off then looks at him expectantly.
He lifts her up, and sits her on the edge of it, spreading her legs with his hands. Her skirt bunches up above her waist.
He uses one hand to check her, she's dripping already, and the other hand to pull himself out.
He was already hard. Her stupid outfits left little to the imagination.
As he pushes into her, they both inhale sharply.
She looks into his eyes for a minute, the green of hers darker than usual. He's not moving.
She feels like something just shifted between them, but she's not sure what.
He leans down to kiss her. Her eyes close while she responds.
Her legs wrap around his waist, crossed simply and tightly behind his back.
He rests his hands on each side of her, palms resting on the quartz surface of the counter.
Sakura grips his forearms to steady herself, and then he's moving forcefully in and out of her.
She moans quietly as he moves, matching his thrusts.
She slides a hand from his arm to his face and directs him into another kiss with her.
He groans into her mouth.
They both finish quickly.
Sasuke drops her off at her party afterwards.
She'd spoken too soon about her regulars leaving her alone.
She's been cornered near a bathroom at this party by an angry group of entitled, wannabe drug-dealing college boys.
Sakura rolled her eyes internally. These were the future politicians, doctors, lawyers and scientists of the world.
She's getting a little scared for her safety now though. They outnumbered her and all of them were kind of big. She recalls two of their names, but blanks on the rest.
"Yeah, well hook us up with your plug instead," demands Sakon.
He seems to be the ballsier one during this interaction.
The other guy's name was Jirobo, she thinks. Or was it Kidomaru? Or maybe all three of them were standing in front of her?
As much as she thinks they're losers, she would be stupid to think that they're incapable of causing her physical harm.
You don't accept an already opened drink at a party from scummy guys like these. They were like that.
"No."
She crosses her arms.
"Bitch, come ON. We heard you were making some sales again on the side," Sakon continues.
Internally, she fumes.
She'd made those sales to help out her— to help out Sasuke as a one-off.
Not to appease these assholes.
"Your shit was fire," he says.
She looks between them as they block her escape, tense.
"I bet you fucked your way to the top to sell that kind of quality," Sakon adds.
She gets angry.
Fuck these people!
"I'm not in touch with him anymore," she lies.
"Bullshit bitch. Zaku lives in the same building as you, he's seen the same mean looking dude come and go from your house on the reg ever since you moved in," he continues.
Her eyes widened.
What the fuck?
"Zaku said he looks kind of like a gangbanger. Didn't he?"
Sakon looks to one of his friends to back him up.
"Yeah, Zaku said that," Jirobo confirms.
She wants to fight her way out of this, but knows it's not realistic. She switches tactics.
"Okay, sure. I'll hook you up," she says, smartly.
They back off after that.
She says goodbye to her friends a while later and leaves the party quickly.
She shows up at Sasuke's afterwards, in her same outfit.
She'd texted him to make sure he was home first.
He had been about to knock out, exhausted, but he waited up for her to let her inside.
He glares at her when he lets her in, holding the door until she's walked through it and then shutting and locking it behind her.
He moves and stands across from her, kind of close to the hallway near his room.
She remains near his front door.
"Didn't I tell you not to come here dressed like a nightwalker? What the fuck?"
His eyebrows are drawn together, his face in a scowl, arms crossed at his bare chest.
"Oh, shut up. No one in your fucking building thinks I'm a hooker!"
She shifts from foot to foot. Her shoes are bothering her, he notes.
"I'm friendly with most of your neighbors," she tacks on, grumbling.
He rolls his eyes, dropping his arms to hang at his sides.
She had him there.
"What is it?" he asks, tiredly.
She tells him.
He breathes deeply.
This was a nightmare.
Normally, he wouldn't have let someone stop selling so abruptly, especially if they were moving the volume that she was.
She proceeds to mention the comment that was made about her fucking her way to the top.
He shrugs, unfazed.
"Is that an inaccurate approximation?" he asks.
Her mouth drops open before she speaks.
"What?"
Sasuke is giving her a disbelieving look now.
"I mean, you're not still in denial that you got special treatment because I was fucking you. Are you?"
He raises an eyebrow.
She looks upset for a bit, then straightens out her face.
"Why did you even come on to me?!" she yells.
He shrugs again.
It was convenient.
He answers with a question instead.
"Why did you harass me until I let you deal for me?"
She glares at him.
I thought you were hot and dangerous and it made me want things.
They don't need to say anything, they both know these answers already. They stare at each other in a brief, tension filled silence.
"So are you telling me I need to pay this guy a visit though?" he pivots.
"...Maybe," she answers.
Sakura hugs herself for a moment, but then drops her hands to pull down at her travesty of a skirt.
He was going to swipe it from her closet and burn it the next time he was at her house.
"I don't like that they're watching me," she says, looking away from him and off to the side.
He gets a decent view of her rosette locks with her head turned. She had it half up in a small messy bun at the back.
"I'll handle it," he responds.
She looks uncomfortable, then looks straight back at him and nods.
He is in basketball shorts and he looks fatigued. He was clearly going to bed.
She turns towards the door to head out.
"Where are you going?" he asks, sharply.
She turns her head to the side to look at him again, hand on the doorknob.
"Home?" she says.
Sasuke points at her outfit for emphasis before he speaks.
"This late, looking like that?"
He was fussy with her sometimes and it annoyed her, but he did have a point.
"How did you even fucking get here?" he questions.
She turns back to him, then bends over to remove her heels.
"The bus."
He clenches his jaw. This was a con to her being this young. In some areas, she was fucking reckless.
No grown ass woman in her right mind would take a public transportation bus at 2 o'clock in the morning, half-dressed and half-drunk, by herself.
"Can I have some water?" she asks, yawning.
He shakes his head in annoyance, then gets it for her from the kitchen while she is caught up bending over and massaging her toes.
Cup now in hand and agitated, he leads her to his room.
He puts the glass down on his nightstand, then drops himself onto the mattress.
Sakura strips down to just her panties, dropping her purse, skirt, shirt and strapless bra in a pile in the middle of the floor.
"Turn the light off," he demands at her.
She does, then slides in after him into his bed.
Zaku has a busted up face, an arm in a sling and an awful limp when she spots sight of him next. He won't look her in the eye when he crosses paths with her on campus.
By now, some word has finally gotten around that her connect is essentially a big time drug lord and not just some random grunt, lower down in the pipeline.
People don't really bother her again.
Sasuke was at her back again, pressing his body into hers, their skin joined.
He was moving in and out of her slowly, breathing in at her hair.
He liked taking her this way. Feeling her entire body stretched and touching his beneath him.
She is holding herself up marginally with her elbows, her hands clasped together. She seemed to revert to holding her own hands whenever he positioned her like this.
Her top half is very slightly arched and off the bed, but most of her front is pressed against the mattress.
His head is over her shoulder and she moves hers to rub against his as he fucks her.
One of his arms wraps around her and grips her clasped hands.
The other wraps underneath her, across her bare chest.
They kiss.
He comes into her.
Sex with him was getting too intense and she found herself subconsciously distancing herself from him, wrapping herself in a protective shell to cocoon in.
She was avoiding eye contact, sometimes being limp like a rag doll rather than present and responsive.
She knew she was being childish and she knew that he noticed.
He was smart. Maybe the smartest person she'd ever met.
So when his calculating eyes assessed her while she rode him, when his hands sifted through her hair while he was on top of her, he was pretty aware of the fact that she was closing herself off.
She shouldn't have been surprised when he played her at her own game.
He stopped initiating sex with her. It had been over two weeks since they'd last had it.
Sakura was unsure what this meant.
She was sitting next to him on his couch. The TV was on and he was looking at it, and she was looking at him.
Her arms were crossed.
It was Friday night.
Usually, she was out at a party or she was studying, but tonight she'd wanted to be with him.
"What do you want, Sakura?" he asked, gaze locked on the TV.
She frowned.
You. Now.
He finally turned to her.
"You're being annoying," he said.
One of his shoed feet was pressed against the edge of his coffee table, his knee bent.
"Are we not going to have sex anymore?" she asked, put out.
He gave her a lengthy once over before responding.
"You're confused. Figure your shit out first, then ask me to fuck you once you're straight."
He turned away.
She slept as far from him as possible that night.
Fucking asshole.
He was woken up the next morning by Sakura dropping herself onto his cock.
He blinked awake, still drowsy, then lifted his palm and gripped one of her hips tightly as he became more aware of what was going on.
He glared at her.
She was feeling herself up and bouncing up and down on him.
He reached under his pillow with his other hand and pulled out his gun.
She froze and stopped moving. Her hands dropped to her sides then grabbed at his sheets nervously.
The look on his face was heavy.
Her eyes were wide as he pointed his weapon at her chest.
Absently, she noticed that his dick was getting harder inside of her.
Fucking. Freak.
"You're still confused," he says, softly.
Something about his tone was making him seem more dangerous than usual.
"Get. Off."
She wanted to cry. He fucking sucked.
She straightened up and crossed her arms.
"No," she says, defiantly.
He raised an eyebrow at her.
He places his gun on the nightstand closest to him.
Sakura is distracted by the movement, so she is taken aback when he abruptly pushes her off of himself and flips her to her stomach by the ankle.
He kneels over her form, then grabs her by the neck. He lifts her up in front of him, her back to his chest as he kneels upright behind her.
Keeping a firm grip around her throat with one hand, he fists the other tightly into her hair at the back of her head and starts pounding the shit out of her.
"Is this what you fucking want from me?" he grunts into her ear.
He pulls her head back farther so that he can look into her surprised face from above.
She looks a little thrown off, but he doesn't give a fuck right now. She is as wet as she's ever been.
He pushes into her with force, his expression angry.
Her hands come up to try and pry at his on her neck, but he releases her hair to grab at her wayward arms and hold them behind her back.
She is gasping for breath, her head once again facing forward.
Her hands push against his abdomen as he holds her arms tightly behind her, pulling and pushing her off of himself.
She gasps out his name.
"You want me to fuck you like this instead? Is that it?" he asks, out of breath.
She tries to shake her head but his hand on her neck doesn't really allow it. He's not sure if she's aiming for a yes or a no.
He presses his fingers into her jugular a little tighter for a brief moment, then eases up and lets go.
His grip had been firm, but in no way had it been hard enough to actually choke her.
He runs his hand down from her neck to across her front, pinching at her nipples so tightly that she screams.
Loudly.
He twists each as he pinches and then he lets go of them and pushes her forward onto her stomach, releasing the arms he had secured behind her back.
She is sputtering, her hands scrabbling for purchase in his sheets but he doesn't give her time to recover.
He enters again with all of his weight, laying himself on her back.
She screams out once more, the octave high and shrill.
He grips the skin at her waist forcefully, pinching and pulling at it. It will bruise, he knows already.
He puts his other palm across her entire face, pulling her head back and plowing her.
He drops himself into her balls deep over and over, not once entering her with a shallow thrust.
She's whimpering and moaning loudly.
He thinks his hand feels wet, with her tears or her spit or her snot, he's not sure which.
He still doesn't give a fuck.
He moves the hand from her hip to underneath her, rubbing vigorously at her clit.
She's letting out the same pleasure-pain sound from the back of her throat on repeat now.
He feels himself hitting her all the way at the top everytime he drops in. He moves his palm from her face to pull at just her mouth with his fingers. His other hand is drenched in the cream of her pussy.
One of her small hands has reached back, trying to brace herself at his thigh.
The other is extended above her head, fisted into the sheets.
Her tits, still sensitive from his roughness, rub uncomfortably into the cotton beneath them. Him lying on her and dropping his whole weight into her is pulling the breath out of her.
"I can fuck you like this," he continues. "If this is what you're fucking looking for, I'm capable of it."
She wails at him then.
"No— no stop. I can't take it. It's too much at once. Please?"
"Come first," he says.
"I can't!" she cries.
"You can."
He rubs at her faster and switches from deep penetration to shallow thrusts.
He moves his hand from the front of her face back to her hair and pushes her head down into his pillow.
"Come now."
She is crying out hard, a moan and a scream mixed together.
He feels her tightening around him.
He groans.
This is the hardest she's ever come against him.
His hand loosens in her hair.
He puts both his hands at her lower back and lifts his top half off of her, holding his weight up with his palms at her back.
She's resting a cheek on his pillow now, her arms wrapped around the cushion tightly. Her hair is a tangled shit show and she's covered in sweat.
She's still coming and crying out and he's still pumping in and out of her as she spasms around him and then he's coming too.
He's spilling into her, a guttural sound coming out from deep within his chest.
He pumps it all into her until he feels himself get soft and then he pulls out of her with no warning.
He leaves her there as she heaves for breath.
He sits on the edge of his bed, feet flat on the floor and takes a couple deep breaths himself.
She's on her stomach behind him, her chest still rising up and down rapidly as he puts his head in his hands.
He doesn't move for five minutes, holding his face to ground himself, then he gets up without a word.
It was too early for this shit.
He comes back a short time later with water and tissues for her.
"Sit up."
She eyes him suspiciously, then sits up. She feels kind of weak.
"Drink this."
He hands her the glass.
They're both still nude.
She gives him a mean glare, then drinks shakily.
Wordlessly he hands her the tissues next, after she's drunk half the cup.
Sakura takes them with a trembling hand and wipes off her face. It's covered in drool and tears and snot.
Sasuke sits next to her, taking the cup from her and putting it down on the nightstand.
Afterwards he leads her into the shower and washes her. He lathers her body, then rinses her off, his hands all over her. At her back and under arms and at her pussy and her ass.
He wets her hair, puts it to the side of her neck, then shampoos it and rubs it into her scalp and rinses her again.
She eyes him throughout, letting him take care of her without much resistance. His face is pensive and he doesn't speak.
She feels her cheeks growing hot and it's not from the warm water.
If she thought she had rough sex for real before this, then she was sorely mistaken. Rough sex with him had been something else.
She feels bad for pushing him when he'd clearly tried to give her space the night before.
Space she hadn't realized she needed.
Space she was being too immature to take and reflect in.
"I'm not confused."
She says this later, after some hours have passed and they've done some work on opposite ends of his house in silence.
"You're just— you're too," she waves her hand around at him.
"You're too much sometimes!"
He shrugs without looking up from what he's doing.
"If you don't like it, then leave."
She looks frustrated with him and puts one hand on her hip.
"That's not what I said."
He looks up at her now from where he's seated at his dining table. She is standing in the hallway, near the door of his office where she'd been camped out for most of the day.
"Then what?"
Sakura appears a little apprehensive now.
"I've never felt this way before," she says, voice small.
Sasuke gets up.
He walks up to her, grabs her hand and bends down a little to give her a light kiss, but doesn't say anything.
Staring up at him she asks, "Have you?" curiously.
He looks down at her, still standing close.
"No."
She was okay after that.
He lets himself into her house with his key. He's not paying much attention, so he doesn't notice Naruto sitting at her dining table until he's walked in and locked the door again behind him.
His best friend is glaring daggers at him.
"You have a key?" he asks, murderously.
Sasuke stays near the door, leaning his back against it.
Sakura comes out of her bedroom in short-shorts and a shirt of his that he thinks she's swiped from his house.
"Naruto, I looked everywhere, I can't find—" she starts.
She freezes when she looks up and spots him at her door.
"Um."
Her eyes dart between the two men in her life in a panic.
Naruto is gripping the back of his chair.
"He has a key?" he repeats the question at Sakura.
"Yes, you fucking moron. I have a key. Is that all that's going to come out of your stupid fucking mouth?"
Naruto's head snaps towards him and he shoots out of his chair.
Sakura slaps a hand to her forehead.
Oh, jeez.
"What the fuck did you just say to me!?" Naruto has rounded on him and is yelling in his face now.
"That's my— that's my little sister! What the fuck are you doing?!"
His hand is now pulling at Sasuke's shirt. One side of the black zip-up hoodie Sasuke is wearing over his tee falls off his shoulder.
Sasuke is in the process of raising his fist.
"Stop! Stop! Both of you, stop it!" Sakura screeches.
They freeze and turn to her.
"Naruto, let go of him. You're being embarrassing," she says.
Sasuke smirks.
"Me?! I'm being embarrassing?!" Naruto is incredulous.
He lets go of Sasuke and gives him a shove.
He goes to sit angrily on the couch, then freezes.
Freezes like the memory of catching them fucking months ago has suddenly returned to him.
Naruto makes a look of disgust and then goes into her kitchen instead.
Sakura has an open layout kitchen, there is no dividing wall, just a counter that serves as the separation from the rest of the apartment.
Naruto grabs a beer bottle out of her fridge, smashes the cap off against the edge of the counter, and chugs it.
"Fucking. Explain this."
He is looking between them and waving his hand around.
Then he glares at Sasuke.
"You're like seven years older than her, you sick asshole. What the fuck!"
Eight actually.
"I'm an adult," Sakura sniffs.
She is curling her toes into the floor, her body language illustrating that she is on edge.
"You shut up," Naruto says, without looking at her.
She scoffs, outraged.
"Don't tell me to shut up," she remarks, stamping her foot.
Sasuke steps more into the apartment. He tosses his keys onto her coffee table and kicks off his shoes.
These actions piss Naruto off more, because he's clearly made himself at home here, multiple times.
He knew that scene he'd walked in on a while back had looked too suspect.
It had been too open... too intimate... too... loving.
Like it had been the hundredth time they'd had sex rather than the first.
He had refused to address it with either of them.
He had immediately reverted into denial and attempted to vigorously wipe it from his memory instead.
Sakura now sits at the dining table looking at them nervously.
Sasuke looks at Naruto pointedly.
"I'm fucking your sister," he says, bluntly.
Sakura cringes.
Really, Sasuke?
Sakura feels like Naruto's eyes are looking for something sharp in her kitchen to stab him with.
He grips the countertop tightly before exploding.
"YEAH? I FUCKING KNEW AS MUCH. MY EYES ARE STILL SCARRED FROM SEEING YOUR DICK INSIDE OF HER!"
Sakura makes a look of disgust.
"Ew, Naruto!"
Naruto finally looks at her, his blue eyes icy. He feels like an angry, red mass is oozing out of his body.
"Sakura, I am telling you not to speak to me right now," he says.
Naruto is mad. He turns back to Sasuke.
"This bastard should know better and he needs to EXPLAIN himself."
Sasuke gives him a disinterested look.
"Explain what?" he asks.
Naruto looks back at him with disbelief.
"How did this happen?" he demands.
Sasuke and Sakura share a long glance from across the room.
Naruto would die if he knew she had wor—
"She was working for me," Sasuke provides.
She smacks her hand against the table before yelling at him.
"What the fuck? Sasuke!"
He shrugs at her. No point hiding that now.
"She was— WHAT?"
Naruto's hands shoot outwards, the empty beer bottle falling sideways on the counter with a loud clatter at the motion.
"You were selling fucking drugs for him?!" Naruto asks, outraged.
He turns to her, eyes wide.
"You knew he does that?!" she asks, shocked.
Naruto shakes his head. How stupid was she?!
"Of course I fucking know what he does. Are you fucking kidding me?"
Sasuke directs Naruto's attention towards himself again.
"We exchanged numbers that night. At the club," he says.
Sasuke has tucked his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. He's standing near the couch and her coffee table now.
Naruto is wracking his brain to try and pinpoint exactly what night is being referenced.
"I can see you hurting yourself trying to fucking think, you fucking loser," Sasuke criticizes.
Naruto flicks him off with both hands.
"Dude, shut the fuck up! Just because my memory isn't as good as yours…"
Sakura raises an eyebrow. She hadn't really seen them interact before, now that she thought about it.
Then it dawns on Naruto.
Wasn't that his fucking birthday? And Sasuke had tagged along because he was secretly celebrating his own promotion too?
And he'd paid the bill, so that had been pretty sweet.
What the fuck had he been doing? Buttering him up so he could turn around and bang his little sister behind his back?!
Fucktard!
Naruto wants to kill himself.
"Dude. She was like fucking 19 then. What the actual fuck?! What's wrong with you?!"
He should never have introduced them to each other. This was a disaster.
Sakura had snagged a decent fake ID and fucking begged him, begged him to come.
Fucking. Fuck!
"Okay, but I'm still missing the part where you tripped and your dick landed into her vagina."
Sakura squeaks at this.
"Naruto, stop being so vulgar!" she exclaims.
She has both her hands in her hair now, her elbows on her table.
"Oh, excuse me. Sorry," he says sarcastically, eyeing her with distaste.
"Fuck off!" he adds on, for good measure.
Sasuke shrugs again.
"It was casual and then it wasn't."
Naruto eyes him down with malice.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Sasuke rolls his eyes at the moron.
"I have a fucking key don't I? Fucking put it together, dumbass."
Naruto squints between them.
"Are you guys dating?"
Sakura is embarrassed. Her cheeks feel hot. She and Sasuke hadn't ever really put a label on it themselves.
"She's my girl. Get over it."
Sasuke was done with this conversation.
She asks him to fuck her aggressively again.
"I don't want to," he says, tone short.
"But I want you to."
"Why?" he asks.
"I— I liked it," she says.
"You were crying out that you couldn't take it…"
Her cheeks flush a little.
"No one's ever done that to me before! It was overwhelming!"
He makes a face at her.
"Why is everything fucking overwhelming for you?"
She lifts her hands up.
"I don't know!"
"Fine. Get on your stomach."
Afterwards she's lying on her side facing him, her head propped up on her hand.
He is on his back breathing hard, staring at the ceiling, eyes half-lidded.
"You're not hurting me," she says.
His eyes rotate to her, then drop to the bruising at her hips and the finger shaped redness at her neck, then back up to her face.
"I like it," she assures.
He doesn't. He decides to share this.
"I don't."
She frowns.
"Why not?"
He takes a minute to respond, his gaze back on the ceiling.
"It makes this… feel cheap."
Outside of his declaration to Naruto, it's as close as he's gotten to addressing whatever this was.
"Why?" she's confused.
He looks at her from the corner of his eye.
"That's not how I fuck someone I—"
He swallows. He doesn't finish the sentence and instead starts a new one.
"I was just mad at you the first time."
She throws an arm across his chest and hugs him.
"Okay. If you don't like it, I won't make you."
He regrets exposing her to how he hate fucks, because now it's all she wants and it's too draining for him.
They settle on something in the middle on nights where she wants to be tossed around more than usual. It's not nearly as emotionally or physically taxing for him and still seems to give her what she's looking for.
And then she indulges him, fully present, when he just wants to be morose and serious and grip her body while he's inside of her. Staring at her face with his intense expression that once made her uncomfortable, but now makes her feel something else.
She suspects it's the feeling of being loved but she's not entirely sure.
He had a snitch in his crew that he'd been forced to take care of.
It had unfortunately not been as clean he would have liked.
The motherfucker had fought back pretty hard before he took his last dying breath.
He pulls his shirt up with his teeth, then uses the arm on the uninjured side of his body to yank it off the rest of the way.
Sasuke is sitting behind the desk in his home office, removing the makeshift bandages he'd wrapped with gauze against the gash in his abdomen with a wince.
He had needed to temporarily patch himself up earlier so he could drive himself home.
He blanched and felt light headed for a moment as he eyed the damage.
He'd pulled out a kit from a desk drawer. He couldn't get shit like this treated at a hospital.
In his industry, you were either your own doctor or you knew a shady one who saw you under the table.
He had sewn up worse than this on himself before.
He groaned.
This was fucked.
He wasn't really thinking of Sakura in that moment.
He just wanted to handle this and go to bed.
She'd mentioned something in passing about being busy this weekend with studying and catching up with friends.
He'd been thankful she'd never tried to force those kinds of interactions on him.
Sasuke's patience for most social interactions with anyone outside of his barely existent circle was little to none.
He had a desk lamp pointed at himself and a small, circular table mirror propped up on his desk.
He'd just doused his hands in rubbing alcohol and had been threading a suture needle with wire, his face in a concentrated grimace, when he heard the latch of his front door.
His head snapped up.
What the fuck.
Sakura had bitched her way into getting a key out of him. She was angry that he'd imposed himself upon her house with one and demanded that she get an equal privilege.
"Hello?" he heard her calling out.
He could hear the soft trudge of her footsteps coming up the hallway. She dragged her feet when she was tired.
"Sasu—" she froze in the doorway.
He looked at her, eyebrow raised.
Her eyes darted from the needle and wire in his hands, to his injury, to his face. Her mouth went into an o shape.
After a pause, she asks, "Do you need help?"
"No."
He threaded the wire and stopped paying attention to her.
She was stepping closer, assessing.
"I've done this before. I don't think you can say the same," he says.
He ground his teeth as he put the needle through his skin.
She waves her hands around.
"Stop, stop. Let me do it."
He glanced at her in irritation before looking back down at his wound.
"You're butchering your skin!" she says, exasperated.
She dropped her bag, spotted the alcohol bottle and cleansed her hands with a rather professional method that had him squinting at her with suspicion.
When he'd done it, he'd gotten a quarter of the liquid all over the floor.
She kneeled in front of him, her expression slightly concerned but also focused.
She gestures at him to hand over the needle and wire.
"I know how. Our Aunt Tsunade taught me. Gimme."
Reluctantly, he passes it off to her.
"Aren't you going to drink some liquor for the pain or something?"
"I don't need that," he scoffs.
She lifts her shoulders up in indifference, then proceeds.
Using scissors from his kit, she undoes the suture she is not impressed with and he takes a sharp breath at the action.
"Sorry," she says, glancing up at him. "You were going in too deep," she murmurs, looking back down.
He swallowed as she began with the needle, her touch delicate.
It was much more practiced and much more professional than what he was about to have done to himself.
"Your aunt taught you this?"
Sakura doesn't respond for a moment, she's focused on knotting a stitch.
"She was an army medic."
She cuts the wire after her surgical knot, then starts a new stitch.
"She claimed it helped her with her PTSD to show us how to do things," Sakura continues to work as she speaks. "Granted, we mostly did it on wounded animals but..." she trails off.
"What?"
He adjusts his legs so she can kneel between them more comfortably, but she does not appreciate it.
"Don't fidget."
He breathes in deeply as she continues.
After a time, his hands begin to dig into the armrests of his desk chair. She notices and pauses after knotting and cutting the wire on her latest stitch.
She's halfway through sewing him up.
"Need a break?" she questions, looking up at him.
He nods at her, his face a little pale.
"Give me a cigarette. They're on the coffee table."
She rests the tools she'd been using on him, on his desk.
"It's not good for the bleeding."
He gives her a look.
"You know I don't give a fuck about that."
Sakura frowns and gets up, walking out of the room to grab his squares.
She inclines her head at his injury as she returns. "What's this from?" she asks, curiously.
She hands him his pack and a lighter.
Her eyes are on his fingers as he opens the box to pull a cigarette out. He tosses the box to his desk after he has put the stick between his lips. He lights it, inhaling.
He was confident she was already aware that his hands were dirty. He'd alluded to it before. But she hadn't heard it explicitly from his mouth.
Whatever. If she didn't like it, she could leave.
Nothing so far had scared her away yet though.
"I iced somebody earlier."
He takes another drag and blows smoke towards the ceiling.
"He didn't go quietly," he shrugs.
Her eyes widen and she takes a sharp breath.
"I see."
She is standing directly in front of him, facing him. Her lower back is leaning against his desk, and her hands rest on its surface, next to her hips.
"What did he do?" she asks.
"He was a snitch and he was talking to a narc."
Sakura looks a little worried.
"Are you in trouble?"
Sasuke wants to put out his cigarette, but can't lean forward to do it because he's in pain. He holds it in front of himself and eyes the filter as he responds.
"No. I handled it."
She was starting to realize that 'handling it' had multiple meanings for him.
Sakura reaches for the butt of his cigarette, offering to take it. He passes it off to her to get rid of.
"Okay," she says.
He gives her a calculating stare, gauging her reaction.
"Do you kill most people that betray you?" she asks.
He pauses, still staring at her.
"Yes."
She raises an eyebrow at him.
She'd become cognizant of the fact that part of him got off on violence.
His dick getting hard every time he pointed a gun at her said as much.
After that, she stitches up the other half of the gash quickly and efficiently.
"How many people have you killed?" she questions, curiously.
She is cutting up gauze for a bandage now, her back to him as she does it on the surface of his desk. She's on her knees.
"Personally, five."
He was lying. He's wacked closer to eight or ten with his own hands, but she didn't need to know that.
She could tell from the phrasing that the number was higher. He's likely ordered someone else to do the rest.
"But you have someone else do it for you sometimes?"
He nods as she turns towards him to tape him up.
He didn't have a number for the executions he'd ordered. It all kind of blended together after a while.
"If I'm coming for you myself, then you know you've really fucked up," he says.
She bandages it better than him too.
She stood up to turn away and retrieve her bag, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her in for a kiss.
He guided her other hand to the bulge at his crotch.
"I don't want to reopen that," she whines at him.
She lifts her hand from his body and points at the bandages.
"I just sewed it shut!"
He speaks against her lips.
"Use your hands then."
Before bed, he opens the drawer of his nightstand and pulls out a pill that he pops in his mouth and dry swallows.
"What's that?" she asks.
She's in her underwear and a soft cropped tank she'd brought with her.
"A Vicodin," he mutters.
He winces as he gets in bed, his movements slow.
"I want one," she demands.
"No."
Sakura frowns.
"Sleep on my other side tonight, I don't want you to run into this when you start pressing yourself all over me in your sleep," Sasuke says to her.
Her mouth drops open.
"I don't do that! You're the one that grabs at me!"
If that's what she thinks happens after she passes out, then she's a fool.
Grumbling, she climbs over him and sits on the opposite side of the bed from where she usually sleeps.
He notices her eyeing the drawer he pulled the norco out of, with interest.
"Don't even fucking think about it, I know exactly how many are in there."
She yanks at a hair tie on her wrist.
"I don't understand you," she says.
Sakura is now tying her hair into a messy ponytail, most of the strands falling out because they're too short for it.
"You had no issues with handing me hundreds of pills and ounces of blow and pot and everything else under the sun to sell, but when I want to try a small amount of something, it's a firm no?!"
She sticks her tongue out at him and lies down next to him, her head turned towards his face.
"How does that make any sense?"
There's a reason I trusted you with that much volume, he thinks.
At the time, she blatantly had no intention to sample or short.
He turns his neck to look at her briefly too.
"You have an addictive personality. I'm not giving you shit," he says.
"I do not!" she says.
She did. He was right
She was addicted to him wasn't she?
Amongst other things.
She burrows herself beneath his covers. He had already reached under the pillows and switched the placement of his gun, so that it was underneath his head instead of hers.
She curls onto her side, facing him as he lies on his back.
She lets her fingertips slide around his forearm for a bit and then she reaches her hand down and grasps very loosely at his.
He squeezes back twice but otherwise keeps his hand slack.
His body is relaxing. Maybe from his pain killer or from weariness or both.
He falls asleep before her for the first time.
Sakura peers at his face.
He didn't look like a nice person. There was a hard edge to his features that was rather prominent when you looked at him.
But there was a sexiness about him that drew her into him like metal to a strong magnet.
She knew he was bad from the second she had met him.
She's unsure how to feel about him offing people who'd wronged him.
She had guessed as much from the things she'd heard him allude to previously, but did it change things for him to say it so straightforward instead?
Her eyes fall to the bandages on his abdomen.
"I've done this before. I don't think you can say the same."
He'd been seeped in blood long before she'd met him.
She was still here though, sleeping next to him with barely any clothes on.
Vulnerable and exposed.
He made her feel safe and protected and taken care of and their sexual chemistry was one in a million too.
She didn't want to leave, even though he was a little scary sometimes.
She had figured out by now that at least with her, he felt things very deeply. His responses and reactions just came out wrong or overly intense as he worked through them.
She wasn't too sure what he was really like with other people though.
His interactions with his dealers didn't count. Most of those had been sterile business transactions thus far.
Though, there had been the guy who had shown up to his condo short on money in her presence.
She'd really only otherwise seen him with her brother, and he and Naruto were at each other's throats more than anything.
She suspected their relationship might be just that; animosity and mutual respect, alongside inexplicable camaraderie.
She leans in to kiss his cheek, then falls asleep. Pressing herself close to his uninjured side, just as he'd accused her of doing.
Someone is knocking crazily at his front door. He wasn't expecting anyone to come through today, so he is understandably on edge.
He looks at Sakura on his couch, puts a finger to his lips and approaches the door with one of his guns held behind his back.
He looks out the eyehole.
It's his next door neighbor, Sasori.
"Yo, Sasuke, open up!" he bellows.
He continues to annoyingly bang with his fist.
"I think your girlfriend dropped this in the hallway."
He's waving Sakura's wallet at the eyehole on the other side of the door.
Sasuke turns to give her a murderous glare as he tucks his gun into the back of his pants.
He opens the door and yanks the wallet out of his neighbor's fingers.
"Thanks."
Sakura barely has time to wave at the redhead from her spot on the couch, before Sasuke slams the door shut.
She liked Sasori. He kind of looked like an older version of Gaara.
Sasuke eyes her with suspicion. She looks like she's daydreaming and he can guess pretty accurately what about.
She was trouble.
He drops her wallet in front of her on the table.
"You're getting fucking careless," he says, irritated.
Her mind flashes back to leaving her key in her lock and she blanches.
"He just picked it up and returned it, what's the big deal?"
Sasuke shakes his head at her, then lifts a hand, gesturing at her wallet.
"Now he knows your full name, where you live, how old you are and if your student ID is in there, he knows where you go to school."
He frowns, then crosses his arms as he stands across from her on the other side of the coffee table.
"How much cash did you have in there?" he questions.
She shrugs, leans forward to grab it and opens the pink leather to double check.
"$500?"
"And now he knows you over carry on cash too."
Sakura looks guilty. She shuts her wallet delicately and grips it in her hand.
"That guy barely knows anything about me," Sasuke continues. "But you just handed him your goddamn biography."
He rubs at his eyes, then walks off.
"Careless," he says.
He was having trouble figuring out how to deal with her.
The carelessness was adding up and normally he'd just punch some teeth out.
But she wasn't dealing for him anymore, she was handling all of his money and some of his inventory counts.
And she wasn't some random fuck on the street doing business. She was basically his partner.
His… lover.
He groaned.
Using his fingers, he had worked her up. A lot.
Then, he'd left her hanging.
"Wh-what? Keep going!"
She is spread open on his bed, and he is kneeling between her legs, his hands drawn back.
He raises an eyebrow at her, then wipes his fingers on his pants.
She pouts.
"Stop being so careless and next time you'll get your orgasm."
He shrugs and then gets up, leaving his room.
What a fucking asshole!
"What the fuck!" she mutters, angrily.
She reached down to finish herself off, but he pops his head back in the door.
"Don't do that," he says.
Her hand is frozen against herself in confusion.
"Why not?"
He's looking at her funny and she can't tell if he's being serious or if he's playing.
"Because I said so," he says, tone firm.
Serious then.
She frowns.
"This isn't fair!" she cries.
He lifts a shoulder at her then walks off again.
"Life isn't fair," he calls out.
Like everything else he'd intended to do to her as a one-off sexually, she ended up finding orgasm denial arousing.
"Do it again," she said.
"Or don't do it again?" she said, unsure.
"You know what I mean!" she exclaimed.
He shook his head at her.
Addictive. Personality.
She was a great fuck.
He should have known she was a dormant, kinky slut too.
The flexibility, amongst a slew of other things he'd begun to notice, were definitive indicators of this.
She liked when he told her what to do and he'd told her what to do plenty.
Cross your legs.
Touch yourself.
Turn around.
Bend over.
Split your legs.
Ride me.
Suck me off.
Take your clothes off.
Leave your shoes on.
Relax your throat.
"Can I come?" she asked, breathlessly.
He shook his head at her from behind. His fingers circling her wet center, his hand pinching one of her tits and twisting.
She'd forced him into the bathtub with her at her house.
She was between his legs, back resting against his chest in water that was just a little too hot for his comfort, but he was dealing with it because this was turning him on.
His legs were bent, too long to extend all the way in the tub.
Hers were spread open, resting along the inside of his.
She was short enough that she could straighten them out and fit in the tub without issue though.
"Please, can I come?" she tried again.
He switched to her other tit and then alternated between circling her center and sticking two fingers inside of her.
The movement of his hands splashed the water.
"No."
She reached both of her hands back and ran them through his wet hair then rested her hands on his bent knees.
She gripped at him tightly and made an exasperated sound.
"I need to come. I'm going to come."
Sakura was squirming around against his body at this point, her skin slick.
"Wait."
She was whining now, making all sorts of fucked up noises at him demanding her orgasm.
His dick was unbelievably hard.
He moved his hand from her breast to her throat, gripping her neck.
Then he rubbed exclusively at her clit with great speed.
"Come now."
She seized up, then flailed with a loud moan and a scream.
Her legs were kicking and her hands pinching at his knees.
Water splashed out of the tub.
She gasped for air as she came down from it, her limbs going limp.
"You straight?" he asked her.
She was nodding, leaning back heavily against him, bone-weary.
He released her neck and kissed the top of her hair.
He wrapped his arms around her torso, sighing, then leaned his head back against the edge of the tub.
"What about you?" she asked, softly.
"It doesn't feel good for me under water. We can handle it later," he muttered at her.
She was on his bed, blowing him while she was in a backbend.
"Fuck," he said, under his breath.
She moaned around his length.
His eyes were fixated on her bent body and the subtle bounce of her exposed, upside down tits as he stood next to the mattress.
He palmed them as he fucked her mouth upside down, then reached a hand towards her pussy and swiped up her slit.
She stopped and released him from her mouth so she could speak.
"No, stop! I can't hold the backbend if you—"
She shrieked mid-sentence. He hadn't stopped, even though she had.
"—If you touch me!"
He smirked at her briefly, though she couldn't see it from her angle.
He rested a palm on the flat space between her breasts and otherwise did not touch her, per her request.
But when she was gagging on his dick, he couldn't help but lightly grip her throat with his unoccupied hand.
Sasuke inhaled sharply.
He could feel the muscles in her throat against his hand, working around his dick.
He came unexpectedly into her mouth.
She started coughing and choking, his come leaking out of her lips.
Sakura dropped out of her backbend, releasing him from her mouth.
She straightened her arms and legs out and fell flat on the bed.
He stepped back and looked down at her upside down face.
She was wiping at her lips with her arm and trying to catch her breath.
She coughed lightly.
Then, she smiled at him.
She flipped over onto her front and kicked her feet behind her in excitement.
"Did you like that?" she asked, giddy.
He felt exhausted.
"Get on your side of the bed. I need to lie down."
She complied as he dropped himself heavily.
He tossed an arm over his eyes as he lay there.
Spent.
He did like that. Yes.
She kissed his chest, then flipped over to face away from him. Her naked back pressed hard into his side.
"Night," she mumbled.
He'd stopped by her house to store some money and had ended up falling asleep on her couch.
He was taking a nap.
She looked at him, her lips turned up.
He did too many things in a day, running around from place to place and keeping track of a million different things. He was chronically worn out, but she figured that was just the nature of his work.
He had tossed his jacket on a chair at her dining table because he'd been hot.
He was curled on his side, one hand across his chest at his shoulder and the other resting on his stomach.
The great Uchiha Sasuke. Violent, murdering, trafficker of illegal substances.
...And cute at naps.
She giggled behind her hand at the absurdity.
He opened an eye at the sound.
Heavy sleeper he was not. She had learned that the hard way.
Sasuke gestured at her to come closer, then pulled her down to spoon her in front of his body, once she was in reach.
She sighed, content and fell asleep against him.
Naruto is still unsettled by her relationship with his best friend.
He had come by to use her laundry machine because his own was broken.
"I don't think you should be seeing Sasuke, Sakura," he says.
He is moving things from the washer to the dryer. The machines are stacked on top of each other and fit snugly within a designated closet in her apartment unit.
"Why not?" she asks.
She's in the kitchen, looking into her fridge and freezer and cabinets, figuring out if there's anything for them to eat.
"You don't even know anything about him!" Naruto exclaims.
He turns on the dryer, then turns to her direction as she speaks.
"Sure I do. I've known him for the last three years."
His arms cross.
"Okay. I've known him his whole life."
Sakura leaves her cabinet doors open and turns to him, hands on hips.
"Are we competing here?"
He shakes his head, frustrated.
"His last girlfriend went missing."
Sakura freezes for a moment, then laughs it off.
"What, you think he killed her?"
Naruto's expression does not change. He turns away from her to dump the rest of his laundry bag into the emptied washer.
"Yeah, right. Why do you think that?" Sakura pushes.
She doesn't really believe her brother right now, but Sasuke was rather unpredictable. This information piques her interest in a way that she wants to ignore, but can't.
Back still facing the other way, he says, "Because she fell off the face of the earth at random while dating him, that's why."
He measures out some detergent, dumps it in, then presses some buttons to start the washer up.
He turns around again, analyzing her.
"You know what he does, right? Like really know?"
She shrugs from her spot in the kitchen.
"I think I do, yeah."
"So, why would it be surprising?"
Because I can't picture him ever doing that to me, she thinks.
Naruto is aggravated.
"Fuck that bastard! What? He got too lonely, so he grabbed at the first thing in his sight with legs?"
He shuts the laundry closet door with more force than necessary, the hinges making an ominous creak.
"He's not lonely!" Sakura defends.
"You're trying to tell me he wasn't lonely when you met him? Get bent."
Sakura starts wringing her hands.
"He just likes being alone…" she trails off.
Naruto walks closer to her and stands on the other side of her kitchen counter.
"Bullshit," he says.
Sakura huffs.
"That's probably the loneliest I'd ever seen him in his fucking life," he continues.
She frowns.
"He's bad news and he's bad for you. I'm not going to forgive him for this."
Naruto is gripping the edge of her counter as he rants.
"Why are you even friends with him then?" she asks, perplexed.
Naruto is quiet for a while.
"He's like us. Everyone— his whole family is dead."
Sakura looks thoughtful.
"It was my brother's. He's dead."
"Me and you had each other and Sasuke had me I guess," he trails off, deep in thought.
He probably had to forgive him at some point, he knew. Sasuke had been on his own for a long time.
He had put off introducing them to each other for as long as he could. Sasuke was always involved in some hard shit and Sakura had been just a kid.
...Until she very suddenly was not a kid and he'd had a whole slew of problems as she'd entered her ridiculous rebellious phase.
Naruto had essentially been her guardian since he was 18. If he was being honest with himself, she'd done worse than this.
She'd been a nightmare.
Maybe it was time for him to let go and hand her off to someone else to worry about.
That asshole's selfish, shadiness aside, he didn't trust anyone on this planet more than Sasuke anyways. Other than Sakura.
He runs his hand through his blond hair and looks up at his sister.
"I'm hungry."
She rolls her eyes.
"You're older. You should be the one feeding me!"
Regardless, she turns back to her fridge to get some ingredients. She had enough odds and ends to make them something legit enough.
"Been there, done that. Your turn!" Naruto proclaims.
TBC...
If you like Blow, check out other fics by illCat (me)
Courtesan: Sex for Money AU. One-shot.
Marionette: College AU with a twist. Multi-chapter WIP. Ch. 17 pending editing
Tarnished: Good Girl/Bad Boy HS AU. Two-shot.