Tobirama:

The power I felt when I pointed a gun to someone's head was thrilling.

How they trembled before me, on their bare knees.

Please, Sir, no! Spare me! For my children.

I don't give a fuck about your children, I would say.

I never looked them in their eyes, just kept playing with the trigger of my gun.

The constant fear I lived under evaporated and disappeared whenever I had someone's life in my hands, which was why I loved it so much. It gave me a sense of control over my life, something that was otherwise lacking. At the cost of these people's sense of control, though...

But it was the only way I was keeping myself alive. 

Izuna:

His head was still downcast, but his eyes followed me with interest as I approached him. I was a bit wobbly on my feet, and I slipped a little on the heel of my boot, causing the albino to smirk. I was far too drunk to find it embarrassing, though.

I sat down on top of his table, my legs crossed, slung my ponytail over my shoulder. He looked at me hungrily; I would see black thoughts forming behind his eyes.

"Whatcha got there?" he asked, looking back at my table where my drink stood. His voice was dark, raspy, murky, but yet stable, as if he would be a good singer.

"Vodka", I slurred. "And cranberry juice."

"Too bad."

"Why?"

He looked me dead in the eyes, lifted an eyebrow again. Fuck, he was hot when he did that. "I don't take advantage of drunk men."

"Who said I'd let myself be taken advantage of?" I retorted.

He took a sip of wine. "I have my ways."

"Oh, I don't doubt it."

He reached his hand out, took hold of my grey cardigan and pulled me towards him. I stood up, straddled him and sat down. I must've looked tiny on top of him.

He bent his head down, planted his powdery lips on my left collarbone that was left bare by my one-shoulder cardigan. I blamed the alcohol for leaning my head back and moan.

"What are you looking for?" he asked huskily.

"Escape from my first week at work?"

"What do you do for a living?" he asked.

"Guess." He bit my collarbone a little. "Mmm..." I went.

"Don't test me", he purred.

"I'm not testing you. I'm asking you to guess. I want to know what impression I make on people."

"Hmm..." He took my hair between his thumb and index finger, and I let him. I usually hated when people touched my hair, which was why I'd shoved that man's face into the wall my first day at work. This man, though... "Judging by your clothes... You're extremely stylish, by the way."

"I see you have dueled before..."

He put a long, strong finger to my lips. "Shh. Hush, baby." I shivered. Wow, did he call me... "My guess is you're working in a second-hand shop."

I snorted. Which wasn't fair because  I would probably find that incredibly fun.

"What are you doing, then?" He put a finger underneath my chin. He was all in all just playing with different parts of my face. It was enormously pleasant.

I took his wine glass from his hand, took a gulp. "I might tell you some time. What about you?"

"I will not tell you some time."

I took another sip of his wine. "You have something to hide?"

He started playing with my hair again. "We're on all hiding something, aren't we?"

"I'm not", I said, and was about to take a third sip from his wine glass when the man took it from me and gulped it down, taking care to drink from exactly where the marks from my lipgloss were.

"Your lipgloss tastes of vanilla."

I licked my lips playfully. "Want more of it?"

"Yes", he said simply.

And he connected our lips.

He lips tasted of red wine and peppermint, and he was eating at my vanilla ones. He was a good kisser. Like, very good. My misty brain lost itself in the sensation of his lips against mine, but also his hands. They were searching their way confidently over my back, then underneath my cardigan to touch my skin.

"Mmm..." I said as he massaged my shoulder blades.

He disconnected our lips for a moment, and I noticed he was panting. And also that his erection was bulging underneath me where I sat in his lap. To think I have such an effect on this man...

He dove his lips onto mine again, then licked my lower lip with the tip of his tongue, surprisingly carefully, as if politely asking for entry, which I found incredibly sweet just because it was so surprising of such a man.

I gave him entry, and his tongue tasted of cream and flesh. He wrestled mine skillfully, danced with it, his hands sliding down to my waist. Then, he slid his hands to my front, started fondling me. I leaned my forehead to his shoulder, and he planted a tender kiss on my cheek.

"Not here..." I murmured.

"What?" He nibbled my ear.

"You can't touch me here..."

"You don't like it? Do you want me to stop?"

"No..." I sighed; it had felt so good but he had stopped instantly when I expressed hesitation. "They're gonna throw us out."

"No, they're not..." I could hear the smirk in his voice.

I waited patiently for him to elaborate. He kept his hand on my dick through my trousers even if he'd stopped massaging it, and I was so wet I was sure I would make his hand sticky through the jeans fabric soon enough.

"I own the place", he whispered into my ear.

I looked at him. "You serious?"

He smirked.

Holy shit, this man is loaded.

"Surprised?" He started placing wet, sensual, loud kisses on my mouth, which I moaned into.

"Very", I breathed.

And we started making out again.

For literally an hour we just fucked each other's mouths. The only way I had any sense of time was by people walking past, murmuring: "They're still at it? It's been forty-five minutes..."

We didn't care. He used his tongue softly on my lips in such a way I never got tired of it. I pressed my groin against his, and when I felt up his chest with my hand, I noticed it was clammy with cold sweat.

"You want to fuck me so bad..." I teased.

"You're not better off yourself", he breathed, put his hand to my head and kept kissing me.

We were interrupted by his phone ringing. "I'm sorry, gorgeous", he purred, and I could hear he really was. There was something about his entire demeanour. He was bossy, competent, could probably own whoever he wanted. But there was a gentleness to his soul, as if he would protect anyone he loved with his life and do everything to make them happy. It touched my heart.

The albino didn't answer, just looked at his phone screen. "I'm so sorry, pet, I need to go." He grabbed my waist and lifted me from his lap as if I weighed nothing. He then put his finger underneath my chin and put his lips on mine. "Not that I want to..." he spoke, lips connected, before he kissed me for another good five minutes, his groin pressed to mine, until I was moaning, mewling mess underneath him.

He took one look at me, then walked away, leaving me in the mist of alcohol and arousal I had created for myself.