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scribe-of-elysium · 2 years ago

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Medicine - Part IV

Nothing too explicit but 18+ and NSFW anyway.

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Sasuke tenses.

It isn’t the right time, he thinks to himself. It certainly isn’t the right place. They are on a classified mission that contains a high level of risk, with far too much at stake should they blow their own cover. And a grave mistake has already been made in disclosing his relationship with Sakura to his reckless inmate.

But his wife is close enough for him to feel the warmth radiating from her body. Close enough for him to be overcome by the sweetness of her familiar perfume, an enticing fragrance that sings to and sirens his senses.

This is perilous, he knows. For they have been too far apart, for far too long, and the itching desire to touch her, to return the affection she has always offered him so freely, is maddening. It is unbearable.

He opens his mouth in another attempt to warn her - only to hesitate. The way he often has over the years, when confronted by her presence. She presses closer, and his resistance wavers, for the touch of her rosy, soft, plump lips is an ignition that sends a dangerous hum vibrating through Sasuke’s body. Like tinder to a flame, heat rushes through his veins, setting him alight.

He burns. How he burns and yearns for this woman. She makes him burn in ways she does not even perceive, in ways that have restored meaning and purpose to his life. It was Sakura’s love that thawed the numbing, jagged ice that had once encased his bruised and tattered heart. It was her love that had gently coaxed him into trusting her, into relying on her, into daring to dream of a better future for himself - a future in which there was light and warmth. A future away from the bleak, cold darkness and loneliness he had once believed was his only possible destination.

It had been her kindness and patience, and her forgiveness, which had allowed him to begin healing. Allowed him to believe, for the first time since the night of his clan’s massacre, that he was truly worthy of love. Worthy of family. Worthy of redemption and happiness. That he was far more than the last survivor of a cursed and damaged bloodline.

She and Sarada are his redemption. They are the family he had once believed to be forever lost to him. His wife has no idea just how much she has given to him, no idea of the immeasurable gift of her unconditional love, and just how much it means to Sasuke.

He has never been able to tell her with words. He has never been the sort to pen romantic poems, or articulate declarations of feelings. But what is not explicitly expressed out loud, is shared like a secret kiss in every exchanged glance. In the fire and passion and desperation and reverent worship of their touches.

Touches that are too far apart, because duty calls him away from her side too often.

Touches of which he is starved.

When her fingers rake gently through his hair, his fragile hesitation splinters. One minute, he tells himself. Just one minute, and he will end this. He closes his eyes and parts his lips, ravenous to taste her, drawing her tongue into a sensual, frenzied dance that causes their mingling breaths to quicken.

He knows it is a mistake the moment he does it. She is reeling him in, and he can feel himself falling into her honey trap. His heart slams against his chest, and an approving mewl escapes her lips when he deepens the kiss, and brings his hand up to cup the back of her head as she pushes the front of her body against his.

The sound is like a delirium-inducing drug, one that robs him of his senses. Images fill his mind, images his Sharingan has imprinted there, of his tempting wife sprawled beneath him, cheeks flushed, rose hair tousled like a halo around her head, of Sakura writhing and moaning and sobbing and gasping his name in need. Of the bewitching way she looks when she comes undone and abandons herself to sheer bliss, of the pure devotion that shines in her eyes when she strokes his face and whispers that she loves him.

Love that she gives so readily. Love that he consumes so selfishly, so gluttonously.

The last time they had made love before he had departed, it had been slow and trembling and gentle. But there is nothing gentle about their hunger for one another now. It is predatory. It is carnal. It is devastating. A ravenous, feral beast that claws at them, that demands to be let loose.

She grabs at the belt of his trousers, tugging and fumbling to unclasp it. He fists his hand through her hair, and tugs in response, breaking the kiss and eliciting a sharp gasp from his wife. Dipping his head, he lays claim to her delectable throat, sucking and kissing and biting at the spots he knows her hair will conceal, and is rewarded with an approving moan.

“Oh… Sasuke-kun…”

His parched, famished tongue licks up her flesh, as if lapping up an elixir of nectar. He has never much liked the taste of sweet, sugary things. Sakura is his only. His only exception.

Winding an arm around her waist, he lifts Sakura easily off the ground, and sets his wife on the metal work-top. Medical supplies clatter to the ground, but in that moment, she succeeds at last in unbuckling his belt, and Sasuke does not care about the noise they are making. All he can hear is the rushing of blood in his ears, the thundering of his heartbeat. His lips devour hers once more, his mind and body singularly focused on one task. He knows what they both crave and need from one another, and he will honour the sacred vows he made to take care of her in every single way.

The kiss is bruising, punishing, claiming and consuming. A fiery brand that is raw and ruinous and fuelled with mind-fogging lust. A rushed midnight tryst is not how Sasuke prefers to worship his spouse’s sensual body. He much prefers to take his time, in a sanctuary that is private and wholly their own.

But the words Jiji spoke to him about married couples remaining close together haunt him. They have sparked fresh guilt within Sasuke over the many months each year that he is forced to spend away from Sakura and their daughter.

How much of their lives has he missed? And how much will he continue to miss protecting Konoha from the shadows? What if it is not enough security for Sakura and their child? What if this wasn’t the marriage she had always dreamed of and expected with him?

What if another man attempted to approach Sakura? With Sasuke gone so often from the village, it is perhaps not so far-fetched for ordinary civilians to assume that she might be single, and raising their child alone. Sakura is beautiful, clever, successful and talented. Any man in his right mind would try his luck.

The very idea gives way to a twisting, unpleasant throb deep within the confines of Sasuke’s chest, and he kisses Sakura harder, with a desperation that borders on frustration. He loves her. It does not matter how far apart they are. To him, they are always connected. No time or distance will ever change his feelings. He cannot understand why Jiji said those damned words, sparking uncertainties that had never before even occurred to Sasuke. Equally as much, he cannot bear the thought of another man trying to move in on Sakura, daring to touch Sakura-

His thoughts fracture, and his chest heaves as she slips a hand inside his pants, eliciting a pained hiss from his lips. He aches for her. The ache is unbearable, and demands immediate remedy and relief. A remedy and relief only her touch and body can give to him.

He pushes her skirt up over her hips with his hand, then pulls aside her underwear. And when he finally slips inside her velvet warmth and joins them together as one, he is overcome with sensation. With indescribable feeling.

And he knows.

He knows from her sigh as he sinks his teeth into the supple, soft flesh of her lower lip. He knows from the way she trembles against him, from the way she eagerly hooks her legs around his waist and holds him tightly to her as he begins to thrust, hard and fast, against her. He knows as she gasps his name and he groans hers against her neck. That she is his. And he is hers.

And he knows that nothing, and no-one, can ever break their bond, and the sincerity and strength of the love they share.

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End of oneshot. Sorry it took a while to post the last bit. If you enjoyed my writing, please consider reblogging and reading my other work.

Thanks for reading.

#SasuSaku #Sasuke Retsuden #Oneshot #I'm still on hiatus #This was a one-off because I was inspired by the manga #Feels weird writing canon!verse SS #Fanfiction

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mangostarjam · 4 months ago

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declarations (alternate version) — kaiju no. 8, hoshina soshiro x f!reader, use of foods as nicknames, childhood best friends dynamic, reader wears a dress and heels, oral (f!receiving), 3k words — the first bit is the same as the original but it does deviate

"Why do I need to wear a dress?"

Hoshina Soshiro glances up from where he's lounging on your bed. You've already pulled on the dress, of course, and he watches with probably way too much interest as you tug and adjust the way it drapes along your body. It's pretty. It fits perfectly, though you have no idea when Soshiro learned your measurements enough to show up at your door with such a gorgeous dress hanging from his fingers. Maybe he got them from Okonogi-chan?

"You'll be walking 'round with me and the Captain, egg tart, so you've gotta look the part," he says idly, though you can feel the burn of his stare along the newly exposed skin of your back. "And don't forget the heels!"

You glance at the cute, strappy heels he left by your mirror and frown. "If I wear those, I'll be taller than you, Soshiro-kun."

"Aw, that doesn't matter," Soshiro says. He sits up and you look away from the flex of his incredibly defined abdominal muscles beneath his compression shirt, which he apparently wears all the time, even under his formal dress uniform with all its tassels and buttons.

God. Embarrassing. You really need to get your staring issue under control.

"I can fight whoever looks at ya."

"Wha— ?" Heat sears across your face as you splutter and spin around to face him. The skirt of your dress twirls with the movement and you catch his gaze snapping down to your thighs. "Why would you need to fight anyone?"

"Hm?" You take a step back as he gets up and stalks over to you, holding your breath subconsciously as he kneels at your feet and takes one of the heels in hand. Your room suddenly feels warmer, the air hushed, as if the two of you are the only ones who exist in the entire universe. Soshiro chuckles quietly and shoots you a grin that makes your knees feel wobbly.

"Soshiro-kun?"

"Well, 'course I'm gonna fight for ya, apricot," Soshiro says. You flinch as he reaches out to grip your calf, the rough callouses on his fingers scraping lightly as he lifts your leg and slides your foot into the shoe. "You're my best friend, yeah?"

And I'm just a simple man in love goes unspoken as he carefully ties the silk around your ankle to keep the shoe in place. You wobble a bit at the balance and he glances up from beneath his violet bangs. "Hold onto my shoulders," he says quietly, reaching for your other leg. "Don't worry, I've got you."

"S-Soshiro-kun, I can put these on myself," you mumble, heat flaring up your spine at the careful pressure of his fingers on your ankle. He lifts your leg and you grab abruptly at his shoulders, fingers digging into the thick muscle there as you regain your footing with his support.

Soshiro lets out a breath. "I know," he says simply. "But I wanna do it."

Is this what men do when they're in love? You wouldn't know — the only man in your life you've ever cared about is right in front of you, and he's refused to elaborate on his strange statement no matter how many times you've asked. You have a feeling he means it, though.

Like, really means it. You love Soshiro — of course you do. You've always loved him. But lately it's felt… different.

Still comfortable. He's still your biggest supporter and vice versa, and he still knows exactly how to cheer you up and make you laugh. You know all his ticks and tells, and you take great pride in taking care of him while he's looking out for everyone else.

But at the same time… it's uncomfortable.

These little touches — they're new. The way his gaze lingers on your body is also new. Or… maybe you've just never noticed before. It's not a bad thing. But it makes you feel strange and fluttery inside and you catch yourself daydreaming about what it'd be like to actually get a hickey from Soshiro. Your best friend.

You stare down at the top of his head and try to repress a shiver as he skims up your legs to where your skirt rests against your thighs. His touch leaves behind a trail of warmth that burrows deep. "Um— ?"

"Ya look real pretty like this," he says. You're still holding onto his shoulders as he rises from his crouch, your entire body hot and hyperaware of how close he's standing once he straightens. "I could really just eat ya up." The smirk on his face makes your heart thump painfully in your chest, but he doesn't give you a chance to question it before he's grabbing your hands and spinning you around in a little twirl.

"S-Soshiro!"

You let out a little yelp as the room suddenly turns sideways, your center of gravity abruptly gone as Soshiro scoops you off your feet with one strong arm behind your back and the other beneath your knees. You throw your arms around his neck in a desperate move to keep from falling, though you know he'd never drop you.

Soshiro looks down at you with a glint in his eye. "Maybe I will."

"You'll… what?" you ask, breathless. He looks… hungry. Something about that look makes your stomach clench. "Soshiro-kun?"

"As your best friend, I think I've gotta do a lil inspection," Soshiro says brightly. He carries you over to your bed effortlessly, laying you down with a care that makes you burn up in a mixture of embarrassment and want.

You want… something. Soshiro gently detangles your hands from behind his neck and brings them up above your shoulders, gripping both wrists in one of his hands. His other hand is planted by your shoulder to keep from squishing you, though he keeps his balance with a knee between your thighs. "What…?"

"Just checking," he murmurs, leaning down to brush his nose against yours. You can feel his breaths on your lips and you strain a little against his hold, wondering if he can feel your pulse beating rabbit-fast in your wrists. His hand is trembling, though you can't imagine it's from the strain of holding himself up. "Can I?"

What… what is he asking?

Does it matter? It's Soshiro —

"Yeah," you breathe. "Go ahead."

His lips brush yours in a whisper, an exhaled sigh, a pressure as light as a butterfly. You make a funny sound and he grins as he skips down to your neck, pressing a firmer kiss there at your pulse.

"You do taste good, chestnut," he mumbles, just before you feel the sharp nip of his canines pinching your skin. You yelp in surprise and he chuckles, brushing his lips across the spot in apology.

"What did I say about food nicknames," you manage to gasp out, blinking blearily as he rises back up to face you. The tops of his ears and the arch of his cheekbones are painted a charming pink, but his eyes are serious as he meets your gaze.

"Are you good?" Soshiro asks.

Are you? You do feel good — better than good. The way your heart is racing would probably raise some eyebrows in a medical ward and your brain feels like mush, but. You've had your share of meaningless crushes — puppy love, infatuation — but none of it ever really mattered because you've always had Soshiro.

None of it ever felt like this.

Oh.

"I'm good," you whisper.

"And this is okay?" he asks. "I'm not — I told ya I don't mess around when it comes to you."

"I'm not messing around either," you grin up at him, feeling suddenly buoyant as the pieces click into place. "I'm yours, Soshiro."

Your best friend looks at you for a moment, but whatever he sees in your expression makes him laugh — a rough burst of sound punched out of his chest — before he leans down to kiss you again.

You can feel him smiling into the kiss.

It's a little awkward — he bumps your nose and you can't keep from grinning, either, so the kiss turns into several kisses, the smooth press of his lips against yours sending heat curling through your veins as his kisses get deeper, hungrier. He tilts his head and finally lets go of your wrists to grasp your chin, moving you to get the angle just right, though his careful intentions go up in smoke when you reach up to tangle your fingers into his hair and tug.

He pulls back with a gasp, eyes wide and pupils blown, panting as if he's just finished fighting off a kaiju. His voice cracks as he murmurs your name.

"Yeah?" you lean up to brush your lips against his jaw, admiring the strain of his neck as he huffs. "You're so pretty, Soshiro-kun."

It takes a second, but Soshiro's next breath is a sharp inhale as he presses his body against yours, pinning you to the mattress.

Then he whines.

Oh, god.

The sound seems to startle both of you, but he recovers first, dipping down to kiss you senseless as the ache in your core intensifies. He's solid and warm and heavy on top of you, his hands burning along your arms and sides and skimming over the neckline of your dress before he seems to settle on gripping your hips as he bullies his way between your thighs. The gasp you let out is loud in the thick air of your room, but the groan he lets out when you squirm against the solid, unyielding length of him is even louder.

Soshiro moves back to pressing hard kisses to your neck and exposed shoulders, panting hard as you whimper with every stinging nip of his teeth. "You're gorgeous," he murmurs, "you're so fucking perfect, I can't —"

"S-Soshiro," you whine, wiggling your hips in an effort to chase the electric sparks of pleasure rising with every sharp, aborted thrust of his hips. "What's — why're you —"

"I'm tryin' not to cum in my pants," he grunts, fingers digging hard into your waist to still you. You sob at the loss of friction and Soshiro huffs. "Fuckin' hell — you're so — but I can't be walking 'round the party all dirty."

Your eyes snap open at the reminder and you shove at the shoulders you were clinging to for dear life a moment ago. "The party!"

"Yeah, the party," Soshiro laughs, grabbing one of your hands. He presses a kiss to the leaping pulse in your wrist. "Didja forget, pumpkin?"

The tender affection somehow makes you warm, even as his hips grind slowly against your core to make you burn. Your legs, which you hadn't even registered moving, drop to the sides, sending your dress to pool further up your thighs and exposing the thin fabric of your panties. Soshiro glances down at the movement, but you can only see the way his lashes flutter at the sight before he's grinding his clothed cock against you again.

A muscle in his sharp jaw ticks as he glances back up at you. "Ya look real good," he says, "and I'm tryin' to do this right, but —"

One thing about being best friends for your whole lives means you can tell when he's holding something back.

One thing about becoming lovers with your best friend is that now you can see he's been holding back from this.

"You can't go into the party like this," you point out. Soshiro laughs, a strangled sound.

"We're not havin' a quickie as our first time," he says firmly. His expression lights up. "But I did promise an inspection, didn't I?"

"What're you — Soshiro!"

He moves too quickly for you to react, pressing another hard kiss to your lips — his tongue dipping in to draw out a startled moan — before he's suddenly kneeling at the edge of the bed, yanking you closer by your legs spread on either side of him. "The heels look nice," he says conversationally, dragging his hands up your calves.

You suddenly feel over-sensitive, your nerve endings straining into his touch as he leans forward to drag his nose along the inside of your thigh. "Ah— Soshiro, that tickles!"

"They make your legs look good," he continues, as if you hadn't spoken. You raise up on your elbows to glare down at him as he brushes his lips featherlight against your thigh. Soshiro smirks and turns his head to nip the skin there, kissing and sucking along your thigh as he slings your leg over his shoulder for easier access.

Oh, shit.

The whine you let out would be embarrassing except that Soshiro mutters a curse and shoots you a look that makes your core clench tight. You reach for his hands, desperate for some leverage or an anchor, and he lets you take one of his hands but uses the other to hike your other leg over his shoulder.

"This is cute," Soshiro remarks, looking intently at your panties and the damp spot clearly evident even in the dim light. "Were they expensive?"

What is he asking? Why would it matter when the only thing you can focus on is the incessant ache in your core, inches away from his touch, heartbreakingly empty and wet and hot —

Soshiro rips your panties with one hand and tosses the flimsy scraps of cloth aside, exposing your fluttering core to his hungry gaze. You shift desperately, torn between wanting and wanting to hide, but before you can voice a request Soshiro dips in and licks you.

"Oh, fuck —" you moan, collapsing back on the bed as your hips buck up into the friction. Soshiro licks at you sloppily, digging his tongue into every inch and fold of you as he groans.

"All this for me?" he murmurs, catching your eye as you clutch desperately at the blankets. "Only for me, right, melon drop?"

You nod shakily as he gently kisses the throbbing bundle of nerves at your core. "I'm yours, Soshiro," you gasp. The waves of pleasure building in your body are frightening, your heart pounding hard, but you can't help tilting your hips closer to him. "Please, Soshiro — I… I can't —"

"Hah — fuck you," Soshiro groans. "Hold on to me."

You barely get a moment to register his command before he dives back in, targeting your clit and sucking on it as you sob with pleasure. White hot electricity races through your veins as you scrabble desperately for something to hold on to, grabbing at the purple strands of his hair and rocking your hips as he devours you.

You feel the burning touch of his finger as he drags it along your lower lips, making you suddenly hyper aware of how empty you feel. Your insides clench futilely, your fingers twisting into his hair painfully as you moan and beg. "Soshiro, Soshiro please —"

You can hear the squelch of your wetness as he finally slides his finger inside you, poking and prodding your walls until he presses against something that makes you see stars. Your back bows off the bed as you pant and squirm.

"There ya go," he grunts, pulling back to fix you with a burning red stare. "Let go for me, honey. I've got you."

You clench around his finger as he adds another, the intrusion unfamiliar but welcome, pleasure spiraling and spiking through you as he flicks his thumb over your clit and presses against that spot just right. It's — it's too much — too overwhelming —

Soshiro sucks your clit between his lips again and you shoot over the edge with a shout.

"Good fucking girl," Soshiro murmurs. You can barely hear him beyond the fuzzy aftershocks, but the words bleed warmth into your face as you melt into the mattress. He carefully licks you clean, chuckling when you whine at the overstimulation.

"Soshiro?"

"Yeah?" He climbs back over you, the lower half of his face shiny with wetness. It should be gross, but you're so boneless you can't even bring yourself to care as he leans down to kiss you, tongue tangling with yours as you moan at the taste of yourself.

"Where'd you… where'd you learn how to do that?" you mumble tiredly.

"In my dreams," Soshiro says, laughing when you pout at him. "I've been dreaming 'bout you for ages, y'know. But most of the technical stuff was from locker talk with the guys."

You nod and glance down, but the angle is awkward and you can't quite see —

"Ah, don't worry 'bout me," Soshiro ducks his head and you stare at the pink flush rising up his neck. "I'm gonna hafta meet you at the ballroom, hazelnut. I need a change of pants."

"Oh," you nod, wide eyed and blushing as he snorts. "Sorry?"

"Don't apologize for bein' a dream come true," he says. "But we should really go soon, or the captain'll have both our heads."

Soshiro helps you stand on wobbly legs as you regain your balance on heels, kneeling to smooth your dress back down your thighs. "Wait — what about my panties?"

He tilts his head thoughtfully. "Right, I'll help ya with that."

Soshiro's touch is warm this time, not burning hot, and the kisses he presses along your thighs are more ticklish than anything. He grins up at you as you giggle. "Will we tell Captain Ashiro after the party tonight?"

He rises and his gaze goes to your neck and shoulders, exposed by the straps of your dress. Something sharp and pleased settles in his smile. "I don't think we'll need to worry 'bout it. Any fool who gets close to ya when you're marked up all pretty for me is askin' for trouble."

… What?

You look past him to the mirror and gasp. All those little bites from earlier are blooming pink and purple beneath your skin. Soshiro laughs, swoops forward to kiss your scolding right out of your mouth, and pulls away only after you've melted back into his arms, pliant and breathless.

"You passed inspection, by the way," Soshiro adds, smiling a little lopsided and fond. "Congratulations on becoming the Third Division Vice Captain's fiancée."

Your eyes widen. "Fiancée?"

"Oh, too soon? We can start off with 'girlfriend' first."

"Soshiro…"

"What? A guy's got dreams, alright?"

You laugh. "You didn't even propose!"

"Alright, fine," he kisses you again and you beam, delight and happiness swooping through you at how easy it all feels. "Keep that third finger on your left hand empty for me, apricot."

"It's a promise."

#hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #kn8 x reader #kn8 fic #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kn8 smut #hoshina smut #hoshina soshiro #fuji writes fic #UNEDITED and written while elbow to elbow with people at anime expo lmao #sorry to those fans if they were reading over my shoulder or something #while we waited in line or for panels to start #i'm still on hiatus bye again #hope you enjoy this alternate version #and yeah. i did give hoshina a praise kink. it makes sense to me

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