#so apparently the myths about tanuki balls stems from long ago when they would use tanuki scrotums to store away gold

[hirvitank]

@prosynica

i cannot believe you convinced me to do this...

CREOSOTE CHAPTER 69

read below the cut, but be warned

She checks herself in the mirror, fusses over her hair, tilts her head as she scrutinises her features. She’s nervous, feels her hands tremble, her cheeks flushed a subtle pink. There’s nothing to worry about, she reminds herself, sucks in a steadying breath. Her reflection stares back at her, deceptive enough in her confidence to nearly fool herself—sadly, there’s no denying the nervous race of her pulse. A knock, and she starts at the sound, head whipping around to stare at her door. She smooths down her dress, feels her body through its fabric, skin burning with anticipation—tonight’s the night, she promises herself: she’ll finally make her move.

She opens her door, ready to greet her guest, then falls silent at the sight of him. There’s a cactus in Gaara’s hands, consisting of three stalks. Or, more precisely, two small stems and a larger one, creating a rather... interesting shape.

He’s the first to speak: “I found this by the side of the road, and well,” he pauses at her expression, eyes darting between the cactus and her, “I hope you don’t mind?”

“Oh!” Could this be a hint? Perhaps a warning of some sort? What if, unlike normal men, he has a… “I- no- of course not!” She shakes those thoughts from her mind, feels her cheeks burn.

“Are you sure?” He tips his head, narrows his eyes. “You don’t sound like you mean it.”

“No! It’s just…” she falters, takes another look at the uniquely shaped cactus.

“Just…?”

She clears her throat, feels her blush deepen, then—in a single breath—says: “It looks like a penis.”

“A penis?” He raises the cactus, inspects it closer as he turns it in his hands.

She blanches, reminded of Ino’s words, wonders if maybe he’s never seen one before, which would imply-

“I suppose so,” he concludes, lowering the object, offering: “I can throw it out if it puts you off.”

“No, it’s fine,” she quickly assures, meanwhile trying to usher him in before anyone has a chance to spot the Kazekage carrying a phallic cactus around. He doesn’t protest as she drags him inside, closing the door as soon as she can, only then discovering just how narrow her hallway is. She can feel his breath down the nape of her neck, swears she senses the heat radiating off his body, his arms awkwardly trying to keep the cactus from hurting her.

“Um…” he starts, clearing his throat, the word brushing against her skin, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.

“Oh, right,” she nervously laughs, shuffling past him without touching any needles, “sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he says, following after her. “I’ll just...” He places the cactus on her counter, stares at it strangely for several seconds, a frown tugging at his brow.

“A drink?” she offers, notices the high pitch of her voice and tries clearing her throat.

“Water is fine.”

She nods, offers a nervous smile as she sidesteps him, feeling her heart stutter at the proximity. Tonight’s the night, she tells herself again, biting her cheek as she fills two glasses. But how is she supposed to breach the subject? ‘Hey, Gaara, I know we’ve been dating for several months now, and I’d really like it if we could, you know, do the... the good ‘ole horizontal—or vertical, if that’s your preference.’ No, no way! He’s never going to- it’s too weird, asking it like that. What if he laughs? God, she’s such a-

“Sakura.” She starts as his hand wraps around hers. “I think it’s full.”

“Wha-“ She blinks, shakes her head, notices the glasses are overrun with water. “Right, of course.” She doesn’t move, however, too caught up by his touch, long fingers gently wrapped around her palm. He seems to notice, instead turns off the tab himself.

“Is it the cactus?” he asks, sends her a quizzical look, hand releasing hers. “You seem nervous.”

He’s too close, too warm, too overwhelming for her to process all he’s saying. “The cactus?” she asks, once again feeling her face heat. “No, really, I’m just glad you’re here. In my apartment.” She bites her lip, hands him one of the glasses. “Just you... and me. Alone.”

He takes it, albeit hesitantly, watches her with large eyes. “Yes,” he says, almost like a question.

“Let’s take a seat, hm?” she quickly offers, circles him, nearly jumps onto her couch. The water almost spills from her glass, sloshing dangerously as she sits, a broad smile plastered on her lips. He follows, though in less of a hurry, awkwardly holds his over-filled drink. When he sits down, she carefully scoots a little closer, tries not to move too obviously. It doesn’t escape his attention, however, his eyes darting to where their thighs now touch.

“Actually,” Sakura starts, moving even closer, “about that- ouch!” She flinches away from him, notices too late how her water spills across his lap, leaving a dark stain in his pants. “Gosh, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened!”

He frowns, appears deep in thought, then suddenly perks up. “No, that’s my fault,” he quickly apologises, reaching into his jacket and retrieving... another cactus? “I forgot this was in here.” Its needles are surprisingly long and sharp, making it hard to believe he wouldn’t feel them. He appears to pick up on her thoughts, clarifying: “My defence gets in the way.”

“Right...” she mumbles, then remembers she’s ruined his outfit just now. “Sorry about your pants, I could see if I have-“ she cuts herself off, thinks she could actually use this situation to her advantage, then offers: “Do you want me to help take them off?” Yes, perfect! Now she just has to connect with her inner seductress and get this show on the road, or the bed, preferably.

“Is this standard relationship practice?” He puts his drink away, brow puckered into a pensive frown.

“Yes,” she says, standing from her place. “But only if you like it.” She’s in front of him, feels her heart high in her chest, the bared skin of her arms and legs covered in goosebumps—there’s a nervous thrill running through her limbs, inciting a wave of shivers.

“Okay,” he accepts, watches her with curious eyes. She bites her lip, nods, slowly lowers herself to her knees, resting her hands atop his legs. His gaze follows her all the way, something unfamiliar stirring in its depths, tempting her to take things further—see how far she can go. Releasing a soft breath, she slides her hands further up his legs, takes in the way his eyes follow the movement. She leans forward, presses her chest against his knees as she starts on his buttons, revealing the band of his underwear—she’s almost disappointed he isn’t naked underneath.

There’s an audible hitch in his breathing, and she relishes the small victory, slowly peeling his pants off, hinting for him to raise his hips by briefly tugging upwards. He complies, making it easier for the wet fabric to slip down, exposing the smooth skin of his legs. She frees his feet last, pulls the fabric across one limb at a time, until he’s left in only his jacket and underwear. She takes in his shapely legs, appreciates their slender build before allowing her gaze to travel up; past knees, thighs and then-

“Don’t tell me there’s more cacti?” she blurts, pausing at the noticeable bulge.

“In my underwear?” he asks, sounding as surprised as she. “I don’t think so...”

“You don’t think- how-“ she cuts herself off, feels her heart hammer in her chest. “I’m sorry,” she rushes, “I’m not offending you am I? It’s just, you...” She’s searching for words, hasn’t the slightest idea how to put this—as far as she can tell he’s packing a whole lot more than she’d anticipated.

“It’s fine,” he chuckles, much to her relief, looks as inviting as ever as he smiles. She returns the expression, braves her nerves as she returns her hands to his legs, carefully pushing herself up. His skin is hot beneath her palms, his gaze dark as it follows her, briefly shooting to her lips. She feels her blood rush through, pulse violent as it throbs with hunger.

“I could take these off, too?” she offers, hovering above him, gaze indicating his underwear.

He wets his lips, takes a deep breath, then nods for her to continue. She grins, bites her lip excitedly as she hooks her thumbs behind the band. Carefully, she tugs, feels the fabric start to slip, revealing his hipbones, then further down...

“Holy shit Gaara!” she gasps, eyes wide as his obviously well-endowed member springs forth from its confinement, revealing below an unusually generous pair of family jewels.

“I know, I’m incredibly fertile.”

She blinks, taken aback by the reveal of such a monster cock and brazen set of balls. “What’s in there?” she finds herself asking without thought, fingers itching to touch the admirable assets —wonders if he’s ever even busted a nut.

“Gold, apparently.”

She snorts, meeting his gaze. “You’re kidding?”

He shakes his head, dead serious.

“You have golden jizz?”

He raises a brow, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world for anyone to be shooting actual jewels from their jewels. “Of course.”

“That doesn’t sound healthy, and as a medic I’m concerned.” She pauses, feels her lips pull into a grin. “But as a girlfriend I’m impressed.”

He smirks, pulls her into his lap, his bulging penis violently slapping against her bared thigh, then growls into her ear: “From now on I’ll be Gaara of the Golden Shower.”

You can imagine for yourself what happened next. I’m off crying.