Sasuke and Sakura’s wedding night. Contains smut. Please also note that Sasuke’s left arm has been replaced by Tsunade here, and this takes place after ‘The Last’ movie.
This is my first time writing a love-scene, so no flames, please. Also keep in mind this is both Sasuke and Sakura’s first time, as I’d like to think Sasuke is from a very traditional Clan and would wait until marriage to sleep with her.
Disclaimer:Sasuke Uchiha and Sakura Haruno/Uchiha belong to Masashi Kishimoto.
He leads her quietly through the dim, candle-lit corridors of his ancestral family home, his bare feet treading routes that are still acutely ingrained within the deepest catacombs of his mind. The polished wooden pathways he navigates are all too familiar, and the memory is enough to tug on the old strings of nostalgia slumbering somewhere inside his chest – but there are no more ghosts or past demons, here. The compound has been fully restored to its former glory, and is ready once more for life.
Ready, once again, for love.
She follows him, her small, slender fingers tightly entwined between his longer, larger ones, and beneath the flickering glow of flame, she glimpses it once again; the telling glint of lustrous diamond that reminds her of her new status and title.
The name is a musical serenade inside her head. She feels giddy, breathless, still caught in a state of star-struck awe and disbelief. She had waited and dreamt of this day, of this moment, since childhood, and it had been everything she had ever wanted and so much more. Ino and her friends had decorated the venue to perfection, and the festivities had been loud and joyous, lasting late into the evening. A little too boisterous, perhaps, for the innately private Sasuke’s tastes, and an anxious Sakura had half-feared that her handsome groom would lunge at Naruto at several points during the speeches and attempt to throttle him, when Konoha’s Seventh Hokage had launched into grossly exaggerated and thoroughly embarrassing tales of their genin-team adventures – oh so long ago.
Tales that had all suspiciously ended with them stuck in a disastrous fix - only to be miraculously rescued at the last moment by the loveable knucklehead.
Sasuke – whose ego always absolutely demanded that he outdo his rival and best friend in every single department - had scowled murderously at the insulting inaccuracy of the accounts. Sakura had gaped in appalled dismay. Kakashi, scratching his head, had looked as bemused as one could with their features secretively concealed behind a mask.
It had gotten to a point where even Sakura had been left red-faced and twitching, ready to pummel the blond to a pulp for daring to mortify her on her special day - were it not for Sasuke’s firm, restraining grip on her knee beneath the table – but then the blond had suddenly looked straight at them, and with tears shining in his eyes, had raised his glass in toast and spoken words that had stunned them both.
“We might not really be related, but these two were my family when I had nothing, when I was nobody, and they mean everything to me. Without you guys, I… I would’ve been lost. I wouldn’t have made it. Thank you, Sasuke. Sakura-chan.”
Then, in typical Naruto fashion, he had ruined the emotional moment entirely by cheekily declaring that they name their firstborn in his honour.
The smile of recollection on Sakura’s lips widens as she focuses on their joined fingers. Biting her lower lip, she releases an internal squeal of glee. Cha! All her fantasies had come true! Sasuke’s grip on her is secure, and he guides her with a certainty and confidence that makes apparent the commanding man he has become, no longer the frightened boy who had sought to sever all bonds and fled from responsibility and accountability in the past.
She then lifts her eyes to his broad back, setting them onto the red and white Uchiha emblem stitched proudly onto his traditional robes - an emblem that matches the one on her own. He is the last of a noble, prestigious line that has all but dwindled out. Sakura shyly hopes that it won’t be the case for long; that soon, there will be tiny feet padding along the wide halls, feet belonging to little cherubs who share their family name.
It is her job, she tells herself with conviction, to please him now, to meet every one of his needs – just as it is his to provide for hers. She sincerely hopes she can make him happy – but as he finally draws to a stop before a pair of sliding screen doors, Sakura feels the first flutters of apprehension replace the senseless excitement that had, up until that point, made her wedding day pass in an exhilarated rush.
Her smile falters. Suddenly she is nervous and overcome with all sorts of confidence-diminishing worries.
It is her first time. Of course she had saved herself for Sasuke – it had always only ever been him – but what if this is not his? The thought weighs heavily upon her mind, but what troubles her even more greatly is the prospect of him having high expectations – of her disappointing him.
What if I don’t satisfy him? What if I can’t relax and it hurts too much? I can’t seem to remember anything Ino or my mother told me about how to please a man, she thinks frantically to herself.
But she manages to plaster a smile onto her lips regardless as Sasuke directs a brief glance back at her, before releasing her hand to slide the doors to their new bedroom open.
They step inside, and as Sasuke quietly slides the screens shut behind them again and gives her a few minutes to settle in and adjust, Sakura’s eyes nervously bypass the low-framed, king-sized bed resting against the centre of the northern wall, to take in the sheer size of the impressive space. It is tidy, of course; she expects nothing less from a man as meticulous and orderly as Sasuke – with sturdy wooden wardrobes and shelves and carefully tended plant pots placed beside a larger set of screen doors to their right, leading out to what she assumes are the private compound’s gardens.
She is correct, for the doors slide smoothly apart as Sasuke pushes them open, and moonlight spills into the room, bathing it in an almost ethereal glow. Outside, beyond the wooden patio that provides access to other areas of their home, she glimpses an unexpected string of trees that share her name, lined against a high concrete wall bearing the Uchiha crest.
They are suitably in full bloom, in time with the early spring season.
She laughs softly in surprise, joining him by the open doors.
“Sakura trees?” Her tone is light and teasing as she admires the pretty blossoms. She desperately hopes she disguises how anxious she feels on the inside. “Have you planned this all along, Sasuke-kun?”
“Hn,” her new husband – husband, her inner self screeches ecstatically – grunts, in that endearing manner of his, when he doesn’t quite feel entirely comfortable with openly admitting a truth – but isn’t inclined to lie about it, either.
Sakura distractedly fingers the Uchiha pendant he had gifted to her on her nineteenth birthday, as she watches the dusky pink petals, appearing lavender under the starry night sky’s milky illumination, flutter noiselessly to the ground.
The cool, pleasant fresh air that drifts into the room helps Sakura to clear her head for a moment. But when she feels Sasuke’s warm breath against the back of her exposed neck, she barely manages to suppress the shudder that shoots down along her spine, sending goose-pimples surfacing along her skin.
At some point, while they had been watching the peaceful, idyllic scene, he had slipped behind her. He had always had the knack, from a remarkably young age, of moving as gracefully and silently as a shadow.
“Sakura,” he exhales, as he draws back the white bridal hood that rests over her head. His voice is low. A near whisper as he takes in the significance of this situation.
Sakura closes her eyes, and takes the moment to really feel his presence behind her; his warmth, his reassuring strength and power and the undeniable masculinity he radiates. She senses his formidable, potent chakra signature, and it crackles like a rolling thundercloud in the air around them, all static, thrumming electricity that makes her cantering heart beat a little faster. His chakra flow at that moment is curiously unstable - conflicted, almost. His usual, iron-like command of it seems to have temporarily faltered.
That is wholly uncharacteristic of him, Sakura thinks to herself, and then it hits her. It hits her that perhaps the ever-composed, unshakeable Uchiha Sasuke is a little nervous, too.
Sasuke begins to lift his right hand. He is standing close behind her – close enough for her back to brush the front of his body. Close enough to smell the delectable sweetness of her fragrance, to touch her. But he is suddenly hesitant. Reluctant, almost, even when he knows that this is their long-awaited wedding night and it is to be expected that they consummate their union now.
He hesitates, but it isn’t because he doesn’t want her; Sasuke is suddenly unsettled by just how much he desires his new bride – every part of her. But he is apprehensive, too, and is trying his best not to show it. And that- that weakness of body and mind- it disturbs him.
Because he knows, if they proceed, that he will be vulnerable tonight. And he had promised himself vehemently, so many times in the past, that he would never allow himself to be unguarded ever again.
Yet he has always had a weakness in Sakura. This breath-taking woman, one he has watched bloom into the most resilient and beautiful of flowers, who has loved him for so long, and who stirs such turmoil within his heart; he is not worthy of her, he knows. But she has chosen to give herself to him in marriage, anyway. And he worries, as he notes the palpable tension in her shoulders, betraying her own jangling nerves, that he will not be enough for her. There is a lingering sense of self-doubt; that despite his best efforts to atone for his past, he cannot make her happy in the manner she truly deserves.
But he also knows that it could not have possibly ended any other way. He could not have suffered seeing Sakura with another man far less wretched than he was, content in the arms of someone else. The mere thought of anyone other than him touching her makes Sasuke’s chest burn with possessive jealousy. She is his light, the light he had thought he had lost long ago. Her gentleness in his presence, her sweetness, her care and her touch bring him to life in ways that had startled him at first – but now fuelled a terrible, ravenous need.
He was gluttonous, really, for Sakura’s affections. This unnerving reality had hit him hard, after the war, after he had travelled the world on a path of redemption and self-discovery. He had known it when he had finally returned to Konoha after two years and sought her out, like he had promised to do before he’d left her. And perhaps it makes him selfish, but he wants to take every last ounce of love Sakura has to offer, to fill his starved self to the brim with her devotion, until he never again feels the torturous pain and agony of hollow emptiness.
Still, the uncharacteristic uncertainty lingers. His throat suddenly feels peculiarly parched. Unbidden and unwanted, words spoken to him the previous night whilst he’d been out drinking with Kakashi and Naruto drifted through his head – words he hadn’t particularly wanted to hear, but had found himself foolishly listening to, anyway.
Leave it to his old, perverted sensei to provide him with some last minute, emergency advice in the bedroom department.
“The Uchiha have quite the reputation as passionate lovers, Sasuke.”
Well, that casual opener, which had caused him to almost choke on his cup of sake, hadn’t been helpful at all.
Naruto, just slightly intoxicated, had roared with laughter and dug an elbow into a coughing Sasuke’s ribs. “BWAHAHA! Really?! No pressure then, eh Sasukeee?!”
“Your wedding night is your entry into manhood.” Kakashi had gone on, to Sasuke’s dismay. “It’s a battle ground in its own right – but you can’t simply just attack your opponent as you do in ordinary battle circumstances.”
Sasuke’s ears had burned and he had frowned at this ridiculous piece of advice. Of course he hadn’t been planning on outright ambushing Sakura! What did they think he was - some kind of uncultured animal?!
Although… the fleeting thought of tackling her completely off-guard had certainly seemed appealing for a brief moment…
“Yeah,” Naruto had sniggered. “Can you imagine that? Sakura-chan’ll beat ya senseless, dattebayo!”
“I’m certain that your bride wouldn’t appreciate it,’ the former Hokage had agreed, chuckling in amusement. “You must instead be gentle, Sasuke. Sensitive. I… ah… realise this may be difficult for you; but take it slowly. Make sure she is comfortable first. You wouldn’t want to do anything to frighten her off or make her tense.”
“I’ll kick your ass if you ever hurt Sakura-chan!” Naruto had chipped in threateningly. “You know I will, bastard! I’ll kick it so hard you’ll lose all your limbs this time!”
“Shut up, usuratonkachi,” Sasuke had snapped back venomously.
“Just admit it, you asshole. You’re nervous.” His best friend had slapped him heartily on the back. “Quit trying to act all cool! We can see right through you, right, Kakashi-sensei?”
Kakashi, who was far wiser than the reckless blond, scratched the back of his head and prudently chose not to tease the last Uchiha.
“I am not,” Sasuke had hissed furiously. A blatant lie.
“HAHAHA!” Naruto had pointed with his bandaged right hand, and made Sasuke’s eyebrows twitch in mortification when one of the bar staff had glanced nosily in their direction. “You ARE! Sasuke-teme is totally nervous! Too nervous to do it with-”
Sasuke had then proceeded to gracefully kick Naruto’s stool out from underneath him, sending the loud-mouthed blond tumbling to the ground, and prompting the absolute moron of a Hokage to howl in protest.
“SASUKEEE! You piece of shit! How dare you treat your Hokage like that? I’ll have your sorry ass thrown into jail, you stupid bastard!”
Sasuke had hastily terminated the awkward conversation at that point. He hadn’t exactly felt comfortable discussing the topic of love-making to Sakura with Naruto and their perverted old teacher. Kakashi had sighed – and as Sasuke had risen from his stool, he’d nudged a small book toward him.
“Consider it a pre-wedding gift,” his childhood sensei had stated, winking mischievously at him as Naruto had quickly forgotten his ire and started to slur nonsensically about how much he loved Team Seven. Thinking only of the need to make a speedy retreat, Sasuke had grabbed the book and left Kakashi to deal with the whinging Hokage – only to return home and almost choke when he’d realised what it was his old teacher had apparently gifted to him.
A copy of Icha Icha Make-Out Tactics. Face burning, Sasuke had decided to get rid of it right there and then – he didn’t need sex advice from such a controversial and notorious love guide - only to shamefully give into temptation and end up flicking cautiously through it.
He hadn’t taken in much. Most of it had been stupid and downright outrageous. He’d scoffed and sneered in disgust – and he might have gotten somewhat flustered in places – but one thing had stood out in all the crammed pages of rambling, raunchy nonsense.
The stressed, male-ego boosting importance of pleasing a woman first.
Sasuke’s thoughts return to the present and he swallows, and orders himself to man up. He is an Uchiha. And he must take the lead, here. He fiercely tells himself that as much as it is his wife’s duty to satisfy him physically, it is also his responsibility to tend to her needs, also.
His hands, which had hesitated before, slide up to her covered elbows. He takes the first step, and bends his head forward.
Sakura releases a disjointed breath at the feel of the tip of his aristocratic nose following the graceful curve between her neck and left shoulder. He nuzzles her, inhaling her scent deeply, but the innocence of the touch is enough to elicit tiny tingles regardless.
“Sasuke-kun,” she whispers, as he quickly grows bolder, and his arms slip around her midriff, to draw her snugly back against him.
His lips brush over the sensitive skin of her throat. Sasuke has discovered that he has a strange affinity for her creamy neck; that he likes to pay it particular attention. He thinks that surely it has something to do with the desperate need to permanently erase the haunting image of his past self’s treacherous fingers squeezing crushingly around her windpipe. He wishes to kiss her there, until he somehow forgets the nightmarish memory of his insanity-induced attempt to kill her, back then. Even when he knows that he never can – despite her already forgiving him long ago.
Sakura sighs, closing her eyes, willing her wild pulse to settle as Sasuke’s lips caress her skin with a tenderness that he hides from the rest of the world – a tenderness that is disarming, as he leaves a trail of cool little raindrop kisses that summon blazing heat in their wake. This is it, she tells herself; this is the start of her initiation into womanhood. She still somehow half expects to awaken from this dream-like fantasy; has to fight to regulate her breathing.
This is the night her heart has been yearning for - spent in the arms of the man she loves more than anything else in the world.
But she fears for the intensity of her emotions, already so overcome, when they are both still fully clothed. Her heart pounds harder still, when Sasuke’s hands move to tug demandingly at the sash around her waist and remove the first, heavy layer of her elaborately-layered wedding kimono. His unsteady fingers fumble sometimes, and Sakura has to help him, giggling with coy, girlish embarrassment. Before she knows it, however, she is left only in the final silk under layer.
Sasuke then turns her around to face him. He handles her with painstaking caution – as if fearful that applying any pressure will break her, like she is made of the very same glass he knows she can effortlessly shatter. Their eyes meet, and Sakura feels breathless as his piercing charcoal irises smoulder into her, catching the silver of the moonlight behind them. There is clear intent in his heavy gaze – yet she thinks she can perhaps see the same flicker of uncertainty that plagues her, also, as he takes her hands in his and reels her slowly away from the patio view and back toward their marital bed, his eyes never once leaving hers.
Biting her lower lip shyly, Sakura reaches out to him, proceeding to undress him also. Her hands are visibly shaking, and he has to help her in places, too. When the top of his formal attire is finally cast aside, and he stands before her, all rippling, taut muscles and steely masculinity, she swallows thickly, her lips suddenly oddly dry. Her work in the hospital means she is no stranger to topless men – but this is Sasuke, and now they are alone.
Her eyes wander admiringly over his broad shoulders, his lean, smoothly muscled arms, the strongly sculpted plains of his bare chest and the defined ridges of his abdomen. She sees the many battle scars, some faded more than others, and she thinks their imperfections only make him even more beautiful, like artistic maps carved upon his skin, each mark representing a different struggle, its own unique story.
To think, that this glorious body is now all hers and hers alone…
Sakura licks her lips. “Sasuke-kun,” her voice wobbles precariously to her horror, and she can feel the inferno raging in her cheeks. She has the urge to slide her palms all over those mouth-watering pectorals, but she is all at once pitifully flustered, and frozen by the sight of him. “Ah- I-”
He can see her nervousness all too clearly. This simply will not do, he tells himself, his eyebrows furrowing marginally, for her to be so tense. Trust Sakura to be so annoying. Clearly she requires some additional encouragement. Deciding to do something about it, he grasps her right wrist in his newly-replaced left hand – still healing and tightly bandaged up to the elbow – and pulls her close. Then, before she can babble anything else incoherent, he bends his head down and presses his parted lips lightly against hers.
Sakura’s eyes widen and the air in her lungs hitches. Of course she has been kissed by Sasuke before – multiple times, in fact – but each time sparks fly and it still feels like the very first. Butterflies break free inside her stomach, wings tickling and fluttering in agitation, and warmth floods through her. His right arm slips around her waist, and tugs her forward so that she is pressed against the nakedness of his upper body. She finally closes her eyes and her heart thunders against her rib-cage, as she tentatively lifts her hands to his bare skin, fingers gliding, seeking, exploring. His heat singes her, and once she has touched him, Sakura seems unable to stop.
The kiss is slow and chaste to begin with, and makes Sakura’s insides quiver. Then it quickly grows into something more volatile, full of frightening desperation and raw, ravenous need. A depth of hunger that leaves them both breathless. Sakura’s arms wrap around his neck and the slanting pressure of his lips on hers increases as the kiss hardens and deepens. Soon it is fiery and bruising, and Sakura’s head is reeling from the lack of oxygen. She can feel Sasuke’s chest heaving as he crushes her against him.
They stumble sightlessly backwards, toppling onto the bed, and somehow she lands on top of him. Sasuke is certain that his heart has never before drummed this hard or fast, and there is an aching, heavy throb developing between his legs. Sakura is straddling his waist, and it is peculiarly starting to become increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything else but her, as he looks up at her charmingly flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips.
He thinks that he maybe likes the sight of her, on top of him.
Instinct and desire seem to override Sakura’s nerves, then, as she gazes down at him, as if entranced. Her palms slide slowly, experimentally, over his rock-hard abdomen, to the steely pectoral muscles she had been itching to caress just minutes earlier, and with the tantalising, teasing motion, the throb inside him intensifies. When she leans forward to trail sweet butterfly kisses along his collarbone, he swallows thickly. Sakura’s mouth continues to explore his chest, and she giggles a little against his skin, with the shyness of touching him in newfound, bold places.
When she finally draws back, her hands flat against his toned stomach, she smiles down at him.
“Am I heavy, Sasuke-kun?” she teases, referencing a long ago, childhood memory.
Sasuke blinks at her; he remembers it immediately.
“Hn,” he scoffs, smirking; for all her famed strength, she is now a mere feather when he holds her in his arms. Then he reaches out to yank her eagerly forward, capturing her lips hungrily once again. His hands wade into her prettily arranged, pale rose hair, and he starts to pull out the decorative pins and blasted accessories that keep her silky locks prisoner from his seeking touch. He feels them snag in resistance in his haste, and this causes Sakura to whimper in half-hearted protest against his mouth, but soon he can feel no more obstructions, and her fine tresses tumble free between his fingers – though only his bare right hand can fully appreciate their softness.
Her hands cup his face, stroking tenderly, and suddenly the remaining clothes between them seem to be an awful hindrance. She wants to feel the scorching heat of his skin, to experience those coiled muscles tensing against her.
“Sasuke-kun,” she gasps into the dimness, as she briefly draws back for a breath. “I-”
“Be quiet,” he mutters back, too distracted by the sweet curve of her jawline to concentrate on what she wants to say or waste precious air on words. Before she can respond, he moves lightning fast and effortlessly flips their positions, pinning her down beneath him. Then his lips are on her throat again - and so is his hot tongue. It devours the column of her neck, and he clamps his lips over her skin, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. He wants to brand her all over her. He alternates between this and directing a sizzling trail of impassioned kisses that prompt Sakura to release the sort of sound that would surely make even Ino blush.
A pleading, soft moan. And it is like a detonation exploding inside Sasuke’s ears – an enticing musical symphony that makes his heart gallop faster still. He wants to hear it again. He wants her to say his name like that. Sakura bites her lower lip, as if ashamed of the noise – but he simply smirks down at her, letting her know that he likes it. Very much.
She wriggles beneath his weight, and he succeeds in removing the final layer of her wedding kimono, leaving his bride in only her lacy undergarments. His hands quickly make short work of discarding those too, as his lips continue to distract her, hovering over her jawline, to her face, where he proceeds to kiss her burning cheeks, her little button nose, her forehead, her right earlobe. Sakura protests at this teasing and pulls his mouth back demandingly to hers. His weight crushes down upon her, and the increased skin to skin contact causes a foreign tingling sensation to kindle inside her lower belly.
Sasuke draws briefly back to allow them both the chance to fill their deprived lungs with much needed oxygen. She is already breathless and flushed; her eyes are heavy-lidded with passion and desire. He doesn’t think he has ever seen anything more beautiful in his life, and he feels a sense of masculine pride and accomplishment, knowing that he is the one getting her all flustered.
His dark eyes lower to appreciatively take in the soft swell of her breasts. It then strikes Sakura that she is completely naked; she had been so diverted by his kisses before, and he had removed her underwear so swiftly, that she hadn’t even really paid it much thought. Almost instinctively, she begins to raise her arms self-consciously over her chest, fearful that he will think her not ample enough or up to his standards.
Her husband, however, stops her, gripping her wrists firmly to prevent her from concealing his view.
“Don’t,” he murmurs. He does not want her to hide any part of her from his eyes.
Shyly, she allows him to press her arms back down against the mattress. He is silent, baffled by how she could possibly be ashamed of her beautiful body, as he greedily drinks up the sight of her petite, feminine form, his gaze roaming over her creamy breasts, her flat, toned stomach – and finally settling on the triangle of soft pink curls between her legs.
His breath hitches. The desire inside him now is near crippling, the heat unbearable as he feels his manhood stir beneath the lower robes he has still yet to remove.
Sasuke knows what he wants. Natural instinct dictates it to him - the need to claim her at last as his, to bury himself deep inside her hot core, to empty himself into her until they are both breathless and spent.
“S-Sasuke-kun,” her voice shakes, and this catches him off guard. His eyes dart back to her face, to find unexpected tears shining in her verdant irises. She suddenly looks so vulnerable. So slight. Unsettled and put out by this, he raises his right hand to her flushed left cheek, where she can feel his fingertips brushing over her skin.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, silently worrying that he is maybe moving too fast for her, or somehow doing something incorrectly.
She bites her quivering lower lip. Swallows back the thickness in her throat, before she chokes out emotionally, unable to hold back her insecurities any longer, “I- I love you, Sasuke-kun! I love you so much! And I want to make you happy, but-” she squeezes her eyes shut, and confesses, “I don’t want to disappoint you. I-!” She breaks off, when he abruptly taps the diamond yin seal on her forehead with his index and middle fingers, a familiar gesture of affection between them that seeks to calm her down.
He meets her gaze, holds it steady.
“Just relax,” he attempts to reassure her – only for one corner of his mouth to turn down at the sight of her eyes welling with tears. Then they are spilling, and Sasuke curses himself internally.
Always, he makes her cry. Even now. He never knows the right thing to say-
Frustrated, he lowers his lips to her cheeks, kissing away the tears. The unexpected gentleness of this touch only makes their volume increase. Sakura wraps her arms around his neck in happiness, yanks him down to her, and silences her sobs against his shoulder.
Misinterpreting this as genuine upset and even more disturbed by the feel of her trembling beneath him, Sasuke realises that she must be afraid, and suggests, with great restraint, “Sakura, I-” he swallows. “We can stop.”
“No,” her muffled voice answers. “No, Sasuke-kun- it’s just-” in a barely audible whisper, she admits, “This is my first time. I…” she laughs a little in embarrassment. “I waited for you.”
He exhales in understanding. Then he pulls back, stares at her. He wants to tell her this is his first time, too, but she is already reaching out to him again. He bends his head to kiss her more gently. And like a flower, he feels her open up beneath him, her lips parting, her body gradually relaxing once again.
He had always imagined that Sakura would remain faithful to him, but to hear her openly confirm it fills him with a rush of warmth that is almost overwhelming. Sasuke tells himself that he will not give himself relief before he pleasures her – before she is ready to receive him. His mouth moves from hers, to her throat once again, before lowering to explore the valley between her breasts. But he falters before he touches her there, suddenly strangely hesitant again.
He glances up at her. She seems to understand, too, for she takes his right hand, and shyly guides it to where she wants him to touch her. He cups her left breast, marvelling at its silky softness and weight. Then he begins to massage it, prompting a little whimper to escape Sakura’s lips as he kneads it gently, before rolling her nipple experimentally between his index finger and thumb.
This causes her to stiffen in surprise. He looks up at her again, to find her eyes are closed. The air escaping her mouth is growing shallow and quick. She enjoys being touched like this, he notes with satisfaction, storing it in mind for future reference, and does it again, prompting the same pleasurable reaction. Her moan is even louder, when he lowers his parted lips to the mound, swirling his rough tongue around its sensitive, aroused bud before taking it completely into his mouth, sucking gently.
“Ohhh,” her back arches, as his left hand moves to stimulate the unoccupied breast that is not receiving worship from his tongue. “Sasuke-kun…” she groans, as she reaches out to his head with a hand, fisting her fingers through his fine raven hair.
These new, unfamiliar sensations - they feel so good. Her inner self boasts that of course they do; Sasuke-kun had always been remarkably proficient with his hands. Who could have known, however, that his tongue would turn out equally as delightful? But she can’t think coherently enough to communicate this to him, while his mouth is doing such tantalising things to her.
The sound of his name falling so huskily from her lips spurns him onwards, encourages him to continue, sends him on a quest to elicit even more. He wants her to be more vocal. Because surely the louder she becomes, the better he is performing.
And as with everything else he does, Sasuke has to be the very best.
He then turns his focus to the other breast, sucking and fondling and caressing, before growing even bolder, directing a trail of feather-light kisses along her abdomen. Sakura is now almost panting with need and the heat in her lower belly intensifies. It is radiating to the unchartered territory between her legs, centralising as a throbbing ache that demands urgent attention. She squeaks in alarm as he ventures lower, his hair tickling her skin as he teases her pelvic bone, before brushing his lips over her inner thighs.
She gulps, jerking in startled surprise, when they drift a little too close to her womanly core. She does not expect Sasuke to be this daring during their first time – but clearly he has no issues with intimacy of this degree, for his bandaged left hand presses firmly down against her abdomen to keep her in place, while his right parts her thighs to allow him better access.
“Sasuke-kun!” she yelps, her cheeks burning as she scrambles to push herself up onto her elbows. “No- wait. Please!”
Her reaction is interesting, and so is the increased tension he detects in her body. Sasuke flicks a heavy-lidded glance up at her, and gives her a smug smirk, so utterly devious and sexy that her heart jumps into her throat. Something tells him that he has her now. She gapes at him – and when he disregards her half-hearted plea and runs an index finger experimentally over her inner folds, he is rewarded with the sight of his wife biting down on her lower lip – hard - as her eyebrows furrow together.
He strokes her tantalisingly again, and she releases a strangled sound. He watches her face curiously, intently, using the cues he is receiving from her body to discover which spots excite her most. Her expression is caught somewhere between the blurred boundaries of embarrassment and eagerness. Sakura clearly likes the feeling – but obviously thinks his mouth shouldn’t be anywhere near down there.
It is almost enough to draw a chuckle of amusement from him. She is his. He can touch her wherever he pleases, using any part of his body he likes. And if this area is what flusters her most, then Sasuke tells himself that he will just have to pay it special, particular attention.
He parts her folds, finding the small bud of her clitoris. Sakura releases another choked sound when he brushes his index finger over it.
“Sasuke-kun-!” she manages through tightly clenched teeth. “Please-!” The sensation his touch is eliciting is positively sinful, a tingling burn that is steadily growing into a force so unstoppable, it leaves Sakura’s head spinning. When his thumb begins to stimulate the sensitive spot further in a slow, steady, circular motion, she rewards him with her loudest moan yet, clutching almost painfully onto the sheets underneath her.
He immediately responds to her vocal feedback, his pace and rhythm quickening. The musky scent of her turns him on, and he can feel her growing moister under his touch. It is the most incredibly arousing sight he has ever seen; Sakura, all hot and bothered and sexually excited before him.
And loving her like this, giving her pleasure; it feels so very right.
Panting, she glances down to watch him through half-lidded eyes, before her elbows give out, sending her collapsing fully onto the bed once again. She turns her head, and tries desperately to muffle the sinful sounds in her throat – sounds she did not even realise she could make – by pressing her mouth against one of the scattered pillows beside her.
Sasuke’s eyes narrow disapprovingly. He will have none of that. Keeping his right hand working in its position, he lifts himself up over her and leans forward, catching her chin with his fingers. Angling her face back toward him, he meets her pleasure hazed gaze directly.
“I want to hear you,” he tells her, and quickens the circular motion of his thumb even further, as if to punish her for even attempting to deny him of the lustful exclamations leaving her lips.
Sakura’s back arches in response, her head falls back, and she rapidly loses the will to swallow back her moans any more. Any previous embarrassment is replaced entirely by pure, selfish lust as the tingles rapidly grow in intensity. “Ahhh!” she whimpers. “Oh! Yes! Right there, Sasuke-kun! Ohhh!”
His eyes fix onto her face in wonder. Suddenly, he cannot look away. When she lifts her hands to clutch frantically at her breasts, his breathing becomes more laborious. He can feel the searing heat between his legs growing underneath his robes, throbbing for the same attentions he is giving to her. And suddenly his thumb against her growing slickness is not enough. He wants to taste her. Sakura gasps when, without warning, he replaces his hand with his tongue, swirling hotly around her bundle of nerves.
“Ahhnn!” she cries out, the tension in her lower belly, tightening and coiling until it becomes near unbearable, verging on the sweet agony that accompanies pre-release. Sasuke is ruthless, and does not relent. The blood rushes in his ears and each and every one of Sakura’s throaty, sexy moans urge him to quicken his movements, to bring her to the very edge of the explosive summit she is rapidly climbing.
“Ahhhh! Sasuke-kun! Oh, God! Yes. Yes! I’m-! I- ahhhh!” Her hips begin to buck on instinct, pushing her clit more firmly up against his ravenous mouth.
Sasuke holds her down more firmly, and rewards her yearning pleas by applying more pressure and sucking harder, and she momentarily stiffens, then cries out his name as the constricting coil inside her abruptly snaps, sending wave after wave of rhythmic pleasure coursing through her.
It is a feeling unlike anything she has ever experienced, and Sakura’s head falls back as her entire body arches upwards, arms splaying as the euphoric sensation washes over her. Her heart is thundering at an unnatural pace that will surely induce some form of cardiac arrest, but she can’t focus on that, can only feel the pure ecstasy he has given to her.
He presses her abdomen down, preventing her from trying to jerk her hips away, forcing her to ride out the remainder of her climax before his eyes as he finally pulls back to find a trail of liquid leaking from the opening of her virginal entrance. She has loosened up and relaxed completely, is wet and ready for him.
Self-satisfaction and masculine pride swell inside his chest once more, as a smug Sasuke acknowledges that he has given Sakura her first orgasm. And she seems to have thoroughly enjoyed it, too.
And suddenly, now that he has given his wife her release, Sasuke finds that he can no longer hold back the need for his own.
She remains there for a minute, heart racing, trying to gulp down air, stares dizzily up at the high ceiling above them as she struggles to catch her breath, the after-glow of her first climax lingering deliciously. Her mind is blown, and her entire body feels warm and wonderful.
Tsunade-shishou had slyly teased her about the Uchiha being famed lovers, possessing a stamina that was uncommon. She begins to think she might understand the reputation, for she and Sasuke have not really even begun, and for him to pleasure her already like this first, even before he had entered her-
“Sakura-” he utters thickly, his own heart hammering against his rib-cage. It is all at once senseless and consuming, how terribly his body desires their union. He cannot fathom how he has gone so long without this physical closeness with her. Still panting, Sakura understands, and reaches for him, nodding. He has melted away her tension, made her feel at ease. It is now her turn.
She wants to give him the same pleasure he has given to her.
She lifts herself off the bed and leans forward, pressing a palm to his strong chest to push him back down onto the mattress. Sasuke is internally pleased by her increased boldness, and complies. Then she climbs onto him and straddles his hips. She bites her lip and experimentally begins to rub her wet core against the growing hardness she can feel underneath his lower robes.
“Sasuke-kun,” she breathes. “Is this- is this okay?”
It is more than that. Sasuke only manages a terse nod. He is too diverted by the pleasurable feeling of her gyrating down on him to verbally respond.
Just as he had watched her responses before, Sakura now watches him closely also, using every visible cue her eyes can detect to pleasure him. Her breath catches in her throat when she sees the way his jaw clenches tightly as he watches her, and his features contort slightly, as if in pain. Sakura’s heart soars at this encouragement and she is eager to bring out more new expressions. She soon finds a steady rhythm, and grinds backwards and forwards against him, breasts bouncing, which drives Sasuke near wild. He reaches out, runs his hands over her silky upper thighs. She is driving him crazy. He needs to be inside her soon. The ache in his groin is near agonising, now, and Sasuke isn’t sure how much longer he can hold back.
The friction begins to stimulate Sakura once more, too, and she throws her head back as she rocks against him, eager to reach the heights of ecstasy again.
“Haah…” she exhales, closing her eyes as she quickens her movements.
But Sasuke, now fully aroused, can wait no more. In one swift, predatory movement that knocks a surprised Sakura off her newfound perch, he shoves her off him.
“…!” She barely manages to snag a breath before his lips crash down against hers, while his hands move to hastily unfasten and discard his lower garments.
“Sakura,” he whispers; the strain inside him all too evident in the creases on his forehead. “I can’t,” he speaks through clenched teeth, “-hold back- anymore-!”
She nods breathlessly, and as he places his elbows on either side of her head and lowers his body to position himself between her parted legs, she laces her fingers with his.
She squeezes tightly, her eyes wide and brimming with tears of another kind. Happiness, he realises, and is so moved by the pure and ardent love shining in her eyes as she gazes up at him in that moment, that it is enough to render him speechless. He lowers his head, touching his forehead to hers as he exercises every last shred of restraint he possesses to wait for her signal, his heart a frantic drum.
She seems to understand how much this means to him, for it is she who whispers to him lovingly, “I’m ready now, Sasuke-kun.”
The hardness of his length prods her slick opening. Sakura gulps as she anticipates the inevitable discomfort that will accompany their two bodies becoming one at last. But this time, she is fully prepared for it.
Sasuke bites his lower lip – and then nature takes its course.
Her breath hitches in her throat as he penetrates her in one swift, forceful thrust and drowns his groan into the crook of her neck. Then she is gasping at the sheer, unexpected fullness of him, of his agonising thickness and length - the way he seems to stretch her walls so completely, to way beyond their limits.
“Ah!” she cannot help but cry out, overcome by the sharp, stinging, burning pain, but Sasuke is quick to silence her with bruising kisses, as he pins her arms above her head. They help to distract Sakura enough as he fights against his raging desire, and remains completely still within her, waiting for her to acclimatise to him. It is a few minutes before he dares to move again, sliding slowly out of her, gritting his teeth as he does so.
His eyes briefly close, eyebrows furrowing. Fuck. She is so incredibly tight. Her heat surrounds him to his hilt like a molten sheath, and he does not think he can stand the delicious friction. The sensation is divine, like no other he has ever known, and he worries that he cannot hold back, that he will hurt her if he goes too hard and too fast, in the way his body is urging and begging him to do.
Gentle. He has to be gentle, he reminds himself. But the heat is unbearable, and all he wants is to dominate her completely-
Sakura moans, eyes closing as he eases back in carefully, pushing as far as he can, as deeply as her cavern can take.
“Sakura,” his dark eyes check on her, as he struggles to regulate his own breathing.
“I’m fine,” she gasps, and he finally releases her hands to caress her face, wiping at the tears that had spilt when he had initially entered her. She opens her eyes and offers him an unsteady smile. “Really, Sasuke-kun,” she reassures. “I’m- haah,” she huffs, expertly channelling healing chakra to the source of pain. Immediately it helps, reducing the worst of it to a dull ache. “I’m fine,” she says again, encouraging him to continue.
He nods, and gingerly resumes. And being inside her feels so good, he does not understand how he has gone for so long without knowing such intimate pleasure. He senselessly thinks he ought to have married her right after the war, for he does not think he can now ever get enough. Sasuke half-fears for what this will mean - what it will do to them both – for a passion this dangerous will surely set them both aflame – but he cannot bring himself to worry for it, then. For the first time in his life, his body completely overrides the wishes of his mind as it pursues one thing and one thing alone.
He bites down on his tongue, fighting against the groan that begs to fly free from his throat as he plunges in and out of her, his movements slow, inexperienced and disjointed at first, but he has always been a fast learner, and when he is certain that Sakura’s discomfort has waned, he soon gains a steady rhythm.
Their slick bodies slap against each another as he drives into her with increasing force, causing the mattress beneath them to creak against its bedframe.
Sakura’s soft hands are then in his hair, tender and adoring, and she whispers that she loves him again as she wipes the perspiration from his brow. Sasuke knows this truth, has never doubted it since they were twelve, and responds, plunging faster and harder into her until she begins to whimper once again with renewed need. Every thrust drives him closer to the edge, increasing the torturous friction between them until he feels himself rapidly climbing to his peak.
He hisses her name, overwhelmed by the tantalising way her walls clench around his length. He can feel himself getting closer and closer to release, and suddenly she is all he can see, all he can feel, all he can think about. There is only her in the world, and nothing else.
Her fingers are now roaming over his chest, gripping onto his strong shoulders. The dull pain is all but forgotten as the familiar, burning tingle returns and overrides everything else, roaring to life like a furnace blazing into being inside her lower belly. The weight of him above her, the feel of his muscles tightening with strain against her makes Sakura writhe beneath him.
“Unh!” she cries out as he picks up further speed, slamming into her with something akin to near-desperation. “Ah! Sa-su-ke-ku-un!” she moans his name pleadingly, her words punctuated by his forceful thrusts. The tantalising feel of his thick, throbbing cock as it ploughs deeply and relentlessly into her is driving her to disorientation. “Ah! Ah! Ah!”
The heat and friction are now excruciating. A delirious Sasuke feels like he is losing his mind at the sight and sound of her writhing and moaning under him, and kisses her deeply to swallow back his own groans. Almost angrily, he plunges his tongue ravenously into her mouth, teeth nipping and biting as his hands move to squeeze her breasts. Her tongue dances against his. clashing for dominance, and she wraps her arms tightly around his neck, yanking him closer. Her legs lift to hook around his waist, increasing the slant and friction between them further. Sasuke grunts with effort as he continues to pound almost mercilessly into her, and feels as though he is being swept along by the irrepressible tides of tempestuous passion. He cannot fight against the force, can only drown with her, into her. She is the only thing that anchors him, his only hope of salvation.
He needs her. At that moment, Sasuke needs her so much, so desperately and so wretchedly, that it steals his breath away.
Sakura’s toes curl and her nails claw down the skin of his back with a force that she is certain will leave angry red marks. But he doesn’t care. It simply heightens the exhilarating sensations coursing through him.
“Khh!” he releases an incoherent, strangled sound, informing her that he is close. So, so close. But he does not want to reach his climax alone. He wants her to orgasm before him, again, is absolutely adamant that she will – and shoves a hand down to her clit again. He rubs at it, his rhythm irregular, frantic and distracted – but the extra stimulation is enough to send her crashing over the edge again.
“Ahhhn!” she screams, nails digging into him like sharp talons. “Sasuke-kuuun! Yes! Yes! Yes!”
And as her walls contract tightly and rhythmically around him, Sasuke finally reaches his peak right after her. The pressure and tantalising tension coiling inside him overflow to boiling point and erupt as his hot seed empties into her, and pure pleasure unlike anything he could ever have imagined tears like a riptide through every inch of his body. He is unable to stop the guttural groan from escaping his throat, and is carried through the waves of bliss by the delectable sound of Sakura crying out his name, over and over again. It is an extreme adrenaline rush, an incomparable euphoric high that sends his soul soaring, makes his throat close over with a depth of emotion wholly alien to him.
It is enough to leave him quivering inside.
His movements become more disjointed as he rides out the last, lingering remains of his orgasm, panting heavily against Sakura’s sticky neck. She holds him, stroking his hair as he begins to descend from the heavenly heights of pleasure. Sasuke gives her one final, deep, tantalisingly slow thrust – then collapses and grows still against her, remaining deeply embedded inside her heated core.
For a long time, they are quiet, the silence between them broken only by the sound of their heavy breathing. Sasuke feels a sense of warmth, peace and fulfilment that he has never experienced before, lying there in her arms, his ear pressed against her left breast, where he can hear the soothing sound of her heartbeat as it gradually slows to its regular, resting rhythm.
It is not long before his eyelids grow heavy, and he tries to fight it, because there is something he wants to say to her, but his mind seems to have abandoned him entirely, for his thoughts are scattered and clouded, and even speaking seems to require too much energy.
“I love you, Sasuke-kun,” she whispers into the darkness, a lullaby that lulls him into the blissful arms of sleep.
But her voice is enough to trigger a final, valiant fight for remembrance inside his head, and he mumbles her name and what he thinks it was he wanted to say, uncertain whether he really manages to articulate it at all as slumber finally takes him.
Sakura’s eyes pool with tears of contentment and her heart is ready to burst from happiness as she stares up at the ceiling, when his drowsy, but unmistakeable words reach her ears.
“Sakura. Thank you.”
Cough. Yeah. I hope this didn’t disappoint, guys. Again, please keep in mind this is THE FIRST time I am writing a full on love scene, so obviously there’s room for improvement. Thanks for reading and please LIKE/REBLOG/COMMENT and share so other SasuSaku fans can read!
Another love-scene oneshot, which will happen after Sarada is born when Sasuke returns from a long mission away, will be written when I find the time.
Art request- You taking Rust to the beach so he can be happy
i hope a sketch is okay bc i’m a lazy ass
idk about any of you guys, but all the beaches i went to in spain had these wooden plank pathway kinda things that went a little way onto the beach - if rust is in a wheelchair i guess he’d only be able to go as far as the end of the path before he needs to be carried. which i will gladly do
Note - I haven’t written in years, I gave this thing a prologue to both stretch some really old muscles, and two, to give some context of the first time (post movie) Branch loses his colours … Chapter 1 will be set at the actually beginning of the story following the prompt
Note 2 - If anyone can give me a better title, please shoot them my way … this was a filler title whilst I thought of something better … (though it kind of fits a little with the context of the story)
“Branch I -” the bright pink queen turned her head with a
grin, looking to her new partner. The smile faltered, realising the troll she
was looking for wasn’t there. Her eyes looked left, right, left again.
summary: you are enjoying a night at the vacation house with the team when things take a very blingy turn. needless to say everyone in the galaxy attended your wedding
It seemed that Tony had to have a party, no matter where he was. Even if that meant having a bonfire with the Avengers and their significant others at the vacation home in Maine. Waves could be heard crashing on the beach that was only a short walk away. Everyone was sitting on the white lawn chairs around the giant fire that Steve and Bucky had started. Vision and Wanda were sitting rather close to each other, neither of them were drinking, nor understood the concept of it. It was peculiar watching those two grow close together, but Wanda seemed to enjoy working through their relationship.
Clint and Laura finally could go back to drinking since the kids were back at home being babysat by Director Fury. Which as entertaining as it was to watch, the two parents were very happy to be relaxed with their best friends in the world. Another cozy couple was Tony and Pepper. They hadn’t had any kids, yet, so they were still in the honeymoon phase of just lovingly looking into one another eyes and that was the whole world for them. Then there was Natasha and Steve, no way in hell were they dating. Both of them had been the closest things to siblings for each other in years, and they clicked and had one anothers’ back. Thor and Jane were by the fire as well, and had been very cozy after their wedding in Asgard. Jane looked relieved to be in sweatpants finally after having to wear Asgardian clothing for almost a month.
Once Bucky was rescued, the two of you instantaneously meshed together. There was something in him that reminded you of yourself, especially since you both had been in Hydra’s grip for some time. Only you had been rescued a year earlier, and you had worked with the Winter Soldier on a few missions during your time in Hydra. You were a big part of his recovery, and from that point on you both had just been…one. Every Avengers mission you both were strategically placed together and worked when the other was down. That was what made everyone just smile when they were around you both. Your current situation was sitting on Bucky’s lap with a beer in hand, he had one as well. Although he couldn’t get drunk, he realized that apple beer was the way to go. The lawn chair you shared was closest to the fire since the breeze and the chilly Maine air had you all bundled up.
Bucky was talking to the group about something related to one of the recent missions, and it gave you a minute to sit and reflect on the people around you. It was almost like a dream; surrounded by Earth’s mightiest heroes and you were considered one, with the love of your life. Someone had a speaker going that was playing nice slow bonfire music over on a table, low enough that everyone could hear each other when they were speaking. The stars were out, shining fully on all of you around the fire. Bucky asked to get up, so you stood and then took his seat when he went to talk to Steve on the path to the beach. It was normal for the two of them to take walks, just to have time to themselves to talk about whatever best friends do.
After a few minutes passed by, the two of them came walking back up the wooden pathway from the beach. Both had smiles on their faces as they came back to where they had been sitting. Bucky seemed like he was getting ready to ask you to get up, but he did just the opposite and motioned for you to just stay seated.
Then he got down on one knee in front of you, and pulled a little velvet box out of his pocket.
Immediately your heart was racing a million miles per hour, and everyone’s mouths fell open with a few gasps. You were completely unprepared for this moment, wearing sweatpants and hair up in a bun. But Bucky opened his mouth, and the little box containing a gorgeous ring, before you could continue going through crazy things in your head, “Y/n, I need you to know that you are the only one for me. Not only have we been through hell and back, you’ve brought me to heaven and here.” He bit back tears, “It would be an honor, for you to be my wife.”
You struggled to even form words, so you squealed a “Yes!” and after he slid the ring on your finger, you jumped up to kiss him. You wrapped your arms around him, and his arms went around your waist and you could hear everyone taking their phones out and taking pictures to announce the happy news later. Nothing could’ve been more perfect than that moment, that was until your wedding day.
Natasha helped zip up the top of your wedding dress, and then she took a step back to marvel at you. “I cannot believe that a year ago he proposed to you at that fire pit outside, and now here you are, getting married on the beach.” She paused to compose herself, then continued rambling about how your first child better be named Natasha or she’ll get revenge on Bucky. But as much as she went on, you could only think about the love of your life standing and waiting for you to walk down the aisle, waiting to be married in front of your closest friends and remaining family.
Nat, Pepper, Wanda, Jane, and Laura were chosen to be your bridesmaids, and they fulfilled everything they needed to do. Once they finished walking down the aisle, you realized it was finally your turn. Steve and your father came from around the corner of the downstairs to the beach house, and they both gave you a smile. This made you giggle a little, mainly from the nerves. They held out their arms for you to link in between them, and you all walked towards the glass doors that were leading to the rest of your life. The Barton kids opened them to a yard full of family, friends, and other heroes. Taking a shuddering breath, you looked down the aisle to see the sight you truly wanted to. Bucky was standing there, almost in tears at how beautiful you looked. He never in a million years thought that he was going to be getting married to you, and having you be walked down the aisle by his best friend.
The two men by your sides started to walk with you, and everyone rose from their seats. No matter what, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Bucky. He just looked so…radiant. You were able to quickly get a glimpse at who was attending your wedding. All of the Avengers, the Guardians, some of the ‘Defenders’ (Jessica Jones and Matt Murdock to be specific), and your family. Your family looked a little out of place next to some of the out of worldly people. Focused back now on Bucky, you reached the altar. Your dad & Steve gave you a kiss on each cheek, and you proceeded forward, and grabbed onto Bucky’s hands. Coincidentally enough, Bruce was the one officiating your wedding, and he looked so sweet standing up there in a gray suit. He gave both of you a smile, and began.
It felt like it all came and went like a breeze, and quick enough you were dancing with Peter Quill to ‘Ain’t no Mountain High Enough’ during the reception. Your cheeks were hurting from all the smiling you’d done that day, and the night was flowing on by. Soon enough you were sitting on Bucky’s lap by the same fire he proposed to you by, and he said the four little magical words.