feewrites

[feewrites]

apples

fandom: naruto characters/pairings: sasusaku

He always picks the reddest ones.

They are often not the best ones—the ones she buys are always the best, not too sweet and not too sour either but hers are not red like blood, they’re more of a color of red and yellow like an autumn leaf. Sometimes, she buys green apples too, the same color of her eyes.

Sasuke doesn’t complain about the taste. He’s not one to be picky with food. Neither is Sakura, but she is more comfortable than him in the marketplace and always takes her time to pick the best products so that the food she buys from the market and cooks taste always good.

Sasuke functions in the plainest ways and having wandered for some years around the world have made him quite the minimalist, even more so than before. He ate what he found on the road, and drank water from rivers. When he stopped at villages, he simply bought omusubi since this was practical food. Since he came back to Konoha, when Naruto doesn’t invite him to Ichiraku or when Sakura is too busy to eat with him, he only eats what he buys from the market, fresh products and easy to cook.

Grocery shopping is a small affair, but Sasuke finds comfort in the routine and the time he spends with her. They don’t lead an ordinary life but they do simple things like simple people and it is good—it feels nice.

It’s a process—for him to buy his apples. Whenever he adds them in the basket, Sakura eyes the fruits for a moment and then looks at him in silent wonder, as if she wants to say, are you sure? but she never says anything and smiles gently at him. She knows better to ask silly questions.

He knows Sakura’s gaze is always fixed on his face when he takes the first bite, musing if the fruit is sweet enough or sour because it’s not completely ripe yet. Over time, he’s developed the mannerism of looking back at her when the fruit is good, frowning slightly when it feels a little too sweet on his palate, and he stops chewing for a short instant when it is too sour.

Still he eats.

They might not taste the best but Sasuke finds pleasure in choosing carefully the reddest ones, but also the moment when they reach Sakura’s hands after dinner, the stark contrast of the fruit’s red skin against her fair hands. He watches as she holds the apple in one hand, full in her palm and the sharp knife in the other, peeling off the skin slowly, and yet effortlessly. There’s something about the way she moves her hands, one turning the apple around as the other holding the knife peels the skin away, moving in the opposite direction. There’s something about the crimson color of the apple against her pale complexion that makes him wonder why red is such a good color on her.

It also makes him wonder about a crest that would suit her back, or at least he’d like to think so.

One day, he thinks, when they’ll want more of this routine—more than doing the grocery shopping together, feeling her gently tug at his cloak when she wants to stop at a particularly stand, walking side by side in the streets, helping her cook and wash the dishes, watching her peel off the skin of his apples and cutting them into quarters on a small plate she pushes before him.

When he swallows the first bite and looks back at her, Sakura giggles and loudly bites into a quarter.

(“Argh, Sasuke-kun! It’s sour!”

He just smirks and takes another bite.)

One day.

[feewrites]

together, we ride

fandom: naruto characters/pairings: sasusaku

She dips one toe first, and feeling satisfied with the water’s temperature she dives her foot, then the other in the river. Sakura closes her eyes and hums softly, seemingly delighted by the experience. They are traveling leisurely and Sasuke finds himself enjoying the journey, stopping at places he wouldn’t have stopped had he been traveling alone, and staying longer at places where he’d have left the day after.

With her, there is a semblance of normality he hasn’t felt for a long time. Sakura’s presence brings back memories buried in the back of his mind, and they make him ponder about another life, about a world made of ifs. They are like the wind though, fluttering for a moment in his conscience before he blinks and the thoughts drift away in the next.

They leave, but Sakura stays.

And Sasuke watches her as she turns to him and smiles when she meets his gaze—the one that makes her eyes crease at the corners—and taps the ground beside her with her hand, asking him in a mute question to join her. Indulging her because really, he has no reason to refuse her invitation, Sasuke takes off his shoes and unbinds the bandages around his calves, feeling during the entire process her eyes drinking in his movements, hearing her slow intake of breath, he then bends down to sit beside her, and dips his feet in the river.

He closes his eyes and breathes slowly.

The water is cool and the faint stream of the river kneads his legs and relieves the tension he’s put on his joints.

“It feels nice, doesn’t it?”

He grunts in agreement. Beside him, Sakura swings her legs back and forth in the water, making the current a little stronger than before. She hums again, the gentle sound blending to the tune of the river and the wind. When he looks down at her a moment after, she has her eyes set on the horizon, swaying her upper body ever so slightly as to mimic the slow, calming motion of her legs.

As if she feels his gaze on her, Sakura pauses, turns her head and meets his eyes. He doesn’t know how he looks at her but there’s something she sees on his face that makes her avert her eyes, and he watches her look at one side, then the other, the slow movement of her throat when she swallows before she looks up at him again and giggles.

“What?” Sakura asks, somewhat bashful.

It’s natural, almost intuitive to smile.

And so he does and says, “Nothing.”

But he takes her hand in his and laces his fingers through hers, gazing at the palette of warm yellow, gentle orange and velvet pink she’s been previously viewing.

Sasuke feels her squeeze his hand as her legs sway again.

[feewrites]

dorks

fandom: naruto characters/pairings: sasusaku

A faint smile would tug at her lips when she saw the scar on his chest. Sakura always touched the scarred skin with a certain tenderness Sasuke had always found odd, her fingertips gliding delicately on the mark left by Madara with his own chokuto. He didn’t mind. He’d always liked her touch.

It was peculiar, though. His body was covered with scars, albeit most were barely visible because those had been left by kunai and shuriken, but the one on his chest was the only scar that had ever moved Sakura in such a way.

It happened one night, some months after he married her, when Sasuke finally asked her why. She was sitting on the edge of the bed reading a letter Naruto had sent her when she heard him, and she turned her head to look at him.

“Eh? Why are you asking Sasuke-kun?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Curiosity.”

“Well, it’s pretty silly to be honest,” she scratched her nape as she laughed awkwardly, cheeks slightly red. “You might find this ridiculous. Do you still want to know anyway?”

“I asked.”

The corner of her mouth curved up just a little. “All right,” she said, folding the letter and setting it aside.

She turned around to face him and Sasuke eyed her, watching her come closer on her knees before him. He frowned, not quite knowing what to expect from his wife. She could be unpredictable sometimes. Her hands grasped the hem of her thin pajama top and she lifted it up high enough Sasuke could see the underside of her breasts.

His gaze dwelled for a short moment on the curve of her breasts before his eyes were inevitably drawn to the scar on the left side of her stomach. It was the only spot where her skin wasn’t smooth. Obviously, she had other scars given her profession but those weren’t as noticeable as the one he was looking at. Sasuke knew the story behind the scar. She’d told him about it when he’d asked her, curious about the few battle scars that marred her skin. She’d been stabbed like he’d been, but her scar was much less prominent than his in both color and surface because she’d already begun to heal the wound while the blade still impaled her.

He let one finger glided over the scar, feeling her skin tremble to his touch.

He looked up to meet her gaze and blinked.

“I don’t understand.”

Her eyes softened at his words. “I told you it was silly.”

Then, with her pajama top tucked under her breasts, Sakura moved to straddle him. She sat down on his pelvis and Sasuke watched as she pulled up his shirt to bare his torso. Although he raised an eyebrow, he didn’t protest and let her fingers traced the mark on his chest.

He saw it then, the light curve of her lips and the tender gleam in her eyes.

“I love all your scars,” she began, voice soft and gentle. “They tell your story, what you’d been through. They remind me everyday that you’re still alive… and I love this one here the most.”

“Why?” His hand wandered on her thigh, stroking the barely apparent scars he knew by heart. He’d studied them, kissed them all, committing them to memory with the sharingan.

There was a pause in which Sakura smiled at him, as though she was keeping a secret, and then she leaned down and pressed her mouth to his. She flattened her hand on his chest, feeling the rough texture of the scar beneath her palm, the slow drums of his pulsing heart.

His scar was a mirror of hers—a scar left by a blade that could have cost their life.

Against his lips, Sakura looked into his eyes and whispered quietly, “Because we have matching scars.”

Sasuke tasted her smile when he pulled her in for another kiss.

(“You dork,” he’d grunted, his thumb grazing the scar on her stomach.)

.

.

Bonus — Years later

“Hehehe.”

“Why are you laughing Naruto?”

Alcohol had loosened him up, and Naruto responded to his former teammate’s question by pulling his jacket up and there, on his stomach, Sakura and Sasuke both stared at the scar, a clean cut left by Sasuke’s chokuto earlier in the day.

The wife beamed, the husband just rolled his eyes.

“Oh! Naruto, you—!”

“Hehehe! You better believe it, Sakura-chan! Team 7 all the way!”

“Nice, Naruto!”

(And the two morons toasted their cups while the only sane one muttered a snobbish “dorks” under his breath, drinking another cup of sake because he needed it.)

[feewrites]

clair de lune

fandom: naruto characters/pairings: sasusaku a/n: keep reading if you ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) but i warned you

He appears in the moonlight when the village sleeps and Sakura stares, observes. Sasuke stands in front of her window and beside her bedside table; he is a trespasser in her home but he fits there, in her bedroom, in this moment. There is beauty to behold in the darkness of the night. His skin seems to glow in the moonlight, and the soft features of his face appear even more ethereal. His mismatched eyes enthrall her, bewitching her to come closer—so she does.

She stands before him, close enough to feel his warmth, far enough to take another step. Sasuke has this magnetism, this gentle force that draws people to him and in every intake of breath, Sakura watches the way his chest moves like a gentle wave. She can’t stop her hand from reaching up to his face and the intensity of his gaze, the sensation of his warm skin against her palm make her catch her breath.

In the moonlight, his eyelashes flutter down as though he is shedding silver tears. He leans into her touch and she shivers, her hand quivering ever so slightly against his jaw when she realizes what it means. His compliance, his trust.

Sakura takes the remaining step that keeps them apart and cups his face tenderly in both hands. He bends a little, pressing his forehead to hers as she closes her eyes to savor the moment. His cloak brushes her in a feathery caress and when she inhales it is the masculine scent of him, an earthy, after-rain smell that tickles her nostrils. She shares his breath, his warmth and he lifts his lone hand to cover hers; she feels the gentlest pressure before his fingers trail down her forearm. He roams lower, the tip of his fingers grazing the side of her breast, then her ribs and her body trembles to his touch like a string an artist plucks to form a resonance.

At last, Sasuke grips her waist and pulls her closer and her breath hitches in her throat; Sakura belongs there, against him and in the cradle of his embrace. Her breasts are pressed against his torso, her abdomen flat against his toned one and there is a fever that spreads all over her body. It is thrilling and burning and sultry but she wants this—and more.

His fingers lift the hem of her shirt just a bit and stroke the bare, soft skin there. Sakura bits her lip and quivers again, moving her hands to his silky hair and the strands slide through her fingers. His mouth brushes against hers like air, never touching and her heart throbs for him, the promise of his lips stirring her blood.

In the silvery gleam of the moon, she wants to taste him.

When Sasuke tilts his head and the tip of his nose rubs against hers, Sakura stops breathing.

.

.

The gentle, faint pressure of his lips on her own opens her eyes.

Instinct takes over. Her hand moves swiftly and deftly—she grabs the kunai on the bedside table and cuts his throat, feeling the flesh torn apart, the liquid spilling out from the lethal wound. It is warm on her skin and wet on her clothes but Sakura is unimpressed, her pulse steady and her eyes cold. She lives because she fights, and she is deadly because she kills.

She aims for the heart.

Her phantasm bleeds red but Sakura has no regrets.

Sasuke is beautiful in the moonlight, but he is even more in the sunlight.

.

.

Really, what did you expect? 乁༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ㄏ

[feewrites]

in fine (iv.)

fandom: naruto characters/pairings: sasusaku summary: sakura works and waits, and time passes a/n: i. ii. iii.

The little girl in prison who in fact is not so little brings news of Sasuke on a warm day in March.

In the comfort of her apartment, Sakura eats her take-out yakisoba and lets her mind wander; yesterday’s events are still fresh into her brain. She remembers Chino’s tale, the way she speaks of Sasuke, a mixture of envy and admiration, the knowing glances, the smiles she had exchanged with Naruto every now and then because this is about Sasuke, and the smile the girl gave them both when she finished her story.

It is gratitude, Sakura has seen it enough to recognize it. Families and close friends of patients have this same look.

There are moments in Chino’s story that make her smile because she thinks, ah, this is so him, and there are other moments when her stomach turns in knots and her throat goes dry because the war may have ended, but the world is still a cruel and unfair place. Mostly though, Sakura’s heart clutches in a pleasant way.

Because Sasuke is using his power to protect and help others.

It does make her happy to know that his journey makes him see the world differently and it tugs at her heartstrings too, because she wished she could be with him.

She knows he is away because he wants to discover the world with a new set of eyes, and she is also aware he stays away from the village because he feels he is a threat to Konoha, to them—he was an international criminal, is the only member left of the Uchiha clan and the unique owner of the sharingan and rinnegan. His mere existence is harmful to those close to him.

Sakura knows this. After all, she has experienced this firsthand a year ago and maybe, she muses, that event has consolidated his belief to stay away. Still, he should know by now—he should know he is worth it.

Sakura sets down her chopsticks upon the empty take-out box and lets out a small yawn, stretching out her arms to relieve the tension on her shoulders and on her back. She perches her chin on the palm of her hand, humming softly as she gazes distractedly through the window. The trees in her street are green with young leaves and the buds are waiting for the sun to kiss them.

Spring is coming and Sakura wonders when he will come back.

.

.

The familiar flaps of wings slice the cold air and the sound prompts Sakura to look up at the sky and there it is—her green eyes widen for a second when she realizes Sasuke’s hawk is whirling above her, ready to land so she extends her arm, and the king of birds comes down on the offered limb.

It is highly unusual, Sakura thinks as she scratches the hawk’s head with her index and the animal leans into her touch, seeking more. Sasuke has always sent his hawk to the Hokage’s office whether his messages are personal or not, and Kakashi always passed down the very few letters that were destined to either her or Naruto. Sakura is a little wary of the content of his message but does not presume the worst because Sasuke is one of the strongest ninja she knows.

He has to be all right. It is Sasuke, after all.

When the note is secured in her hand, Sakura stretches out her arm and the hawk, regal and noble, spreads out its wings and flies away.

As she reads his message, the color of her cheeks deepen into a deep red because his note reminds her that even away, he can make her heart beat faster.

I’m coming back.

.

.

[feewrites]

cooking mama

fandom: naruto characters/pairings: sasusaku

Sasuke can feel her stare on the back on his neck as he cuts the tofu into small chunks. The knife goes chop, chop, chop onto the wooden cutting board, the only sound that echoes in the open kitchen as he tries hard to ignore Sakura who is watching him cook, sitting at the dining table.

She’s trying to muffle her giggles, but Sasuke is a shinobi and they both know her efforts are quite shallow.

“Quiet,” he admonishes, but stays focused as he brings the cutting board above a pot, and the tofu goes into the miso soup in a plop. “You’re being annoying.”

“Sorry,” she says—but Sasuke knows she is so not because he still hears her soft giggles. “I can’t help it. Are you sure you don’t want my help?”

Sasuke turns around and stares at his wife and her teasing smile, but it’s the clone beside him that answers her.

“I am enough.”

Her smile broadens and her green eyes crinkle at the corners.

“Okay, dear. If you say so.”

[feewrites]

Prompt – White

fandom: naruto characters/pairings: sasusaku

It was distracting.

Sakura was chatting lively with one of her patients, smiling assuredly. The intern that assisted her explained to him the procedures of the surgery he was going to undergo in a few hours, and Sakura answered his questions with simple, uncomplicated words. She was confident, affable and professional and it showed—the patient’s uneasiness quickly faded away. Instead, he looked relieved and even cracked a joke to which Sakura and her intern softly laughed.

It wasn’t the first time Sasuke watched her while she worked. It had become a habit to pick her up at the end of her shift or to spend some time with her during her lunch break and whenever he waited for her, he always found his eyes trailing after her. There was something oddly fascinating about Sakura when she was in her comfort zone. In the sanctuary of the hospital.

She was professional and at the same time, approachable.

Her stance, her demeanor and her attire made her more so.

She had tied up her hair with a pen, the one usually hooked over the top pocket of her white coat. It was a messy bun, strands of her pink hair escaping the knot at the back of her neck and kissing her cheeks. She stood straight, shoulders square with her hands in her coat pockets and a smile played around her lips whenever she was facing patients. She spoke to them with professional kindness, listening to their predicament, easing their discomfort and spoke to staff members with authority, but always with politeness and civility.

Sakura wore her usual ninja attire minus the pouch that hung around the waist beneath her lab coat and that piece of white cloth, rarely wholly white, sometimes smeared with tea and food stains and often with blood stains definitely made her look more professional.

And it was distracting.

Sasuke rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger and sighed. Lately, he thought about her more often than he would have liked, many a time with that hospital coat of hers. Sometimes those were appropriate thoughts, nothing really embarrassing only quiet admiration and pride about her skills and her dedication to others but lately though, his thoughts tended to be more… concupiscent.

And his dreams dismally more vivid than his thoughts.

Sasuke let out a small groan—he didn’t want to think about his occasional burning dreams.

“—I’ll see you later then, Midori,” Sakura said to her intern before they parted ways. “Ah, Sasuke-kun!” She called him when she saw him, surprise in her tone. Sasuke looked up to see her approach, her green eyes crinkling at the edges and a smile brightening her face. “When did you get back?”

“Half an hour ago,” he replied softly. “I went to Kakashi and I got here a few minutes ago.”

“I see,” she said, and Sasuke watched how the words played on the column of her throat, how the loose strands of her hair danced along the movement. “Have you eaten already?”

He quickly lifted his gaze and met her eyes, inquisitive, completely unaware.

“No. I was waiting for you.”

She looked pleased and her smile widened.

“Ino told me about an okonomiyaki restaurant that has recently opened up near her family flower shop. What do you think?”

He shrugged but that was enough for Sakura who started walking. Sasuke followed her, less than a step behind her—and found his eyes trailing after her. The nape of her neck was obscured by a few unruly pink threads and it looked so fair, so unsullied he was tempted to leave a mark there. With her hands shoved into her pockets, the lab coat hugged her form tightly and not for the first time, Sasuke observed her shape.

She had slender shoulders. Her white coat outlined her refined back and her lean waist, curvy hips and her rear looked—

He closed his eyes and sighed again.

It really was distracting.

[feewrites]

in fine (iii.)

fandom: naruto characters/pairings: sasusaku summary: sakura works and waits, and time passes a/n: i. ii. it’s getting longer so maybe six or seven parts, i think

Sometimes, she feels a little lonely.

Most of her friends are either married, engaged or dating someone seriously. It is true they are still quite young but a shinobi life is a dangerous one and while some devote themselves to this perilous life, most of them start a family when they reach adulthood and enjoy the promise of growing old together for as long as they can for tomorrow may never come.

So it is a mixture of jealousy, of longing that tugs at her heart when she sees stolen glances or hears communicative laughs. Sakura is happy for them, but it makes her feel a little forlorn.

Times goes by, but it is as if Sakura remains still, as tough she is frozen in time.

The very few letters Sasuke sporadically writes her do smother her solitude, just a little. The comfort those letters provide her is a bittersweet one because it reminds her that while he thinks of her, he is not here. It is a sweet ache that she can’t help but indulge in, but his absence does not hurt her life the first time he left the village; this time, it is a different kind of hurt—seeing her friends glow with happiness because they have a beloved one to lean on when things are hard while she works, mending and healing broken ones.

Envy hurts like a voice that can’t be heard.

But, at the end of the day, it is just selfishness thinking; she wished she could have that, to have what her friends have, to have the one she loves close to her.

Looking up at the cloudy sky from her office’s window, Sakura releases a deep sigh.

Gods, she misses him, so, so much and working at the hospital only intensifies the emptiness that fills her heart. She wants to see him, to talk to him, to hear his voice—she wants concrete to feel he is alive.

(Today is a bad day. She lost a patient.)

.

.

Sakura enters the Hokage’s office like a storm that has yet to commit any everlasting damage, turning a blind eye when she spots the man who is supposed to lead the village reading a smutty book during his work time.

“Give me a mission,” she says in a tone that suggests resistance is futile. “Solo, away from the village.”

Kakashi hides the book in the drawer, acknowledging the tacit agreement.

She needs adrenaline—the kind that smashes bones and ruptures veins.

.

.

She has completed the B-rank mission in eight days, which is two days more than Sakura initially planned. However, those eight days away from the village have felt liberating. It is as if she can breathe again.

She feels lighter and now, she is ready to go home.

“Welcome back, Sakura-chan,” Naruto says with a tired grin when she reaches the gates.

Dark circles hover under his eyes and from the way he is trying to maintain his posture, Sakura supposes he must have been waiting for her return at the front gates for a few hours, and barely got any sleep the night before. He is incredibly sweet, Sakura can’t help but think fondly, and maybe a little bit stupid, too.

“I’m back,” Sakura replies, reflecting the same tired smile on her face.

Because neither of them wants to go home for the moment—Naruto because he does not want to disturb his sleeping wife, Sakura because no one in her apartment is waiting for her—they sit down a bench, the one that has always bound Team 7 together and let time slip away.

The silence that settles upon them is a comfortable one as the day breaks above them. The first ray of light kisses her skin, and with Naruto besides her whose body heat and chakra wrap her like a warm blanket, the morning breeze of a winter day is an agreeable one. It has been a long time since they spent time alone together as they are both engaged in their own life, buried in their own occupation. They are so young, barely twenty and they already have so much responsibility, so many people that depend on them. In a way, Sakura has missed him too and she appreciates the fact that despite his busy schedule, he has made time to welcome her back in the village.

And when it comes to her feelings, Naruto has always been a good listener.

“I was in the north,” Sakura finally speaks, her voice breaking the silence. “I didn’t see Sasuke-kun. I didn’t expect to, you know, because it wasn’t like I was actively looking for him but I hoped I’d come across him so… I’m a bit disappointed, I guess.”

To her surprise, Naruto wraps his arm around her shoulders and closes the distance between them. The gesture holds no romantic connotation though; it is platonic, friendly and Sakura realizes this is what she should have sought that day—while breaking bones and ravaging lands made her feel good and kept her in shape, the comradeship comfort, the sibling reassurance provides her with something more precious.

Ataraxia.

“I miss the bastard, too.”

Sakura leans her head on his shoulder and closes her eyes.

It is a long overdue respite.

.

.

[feewrites]

in fine (ii.)

fandom: naruto characters/pairings: sasusaku summary: sakura works and waits, and time passes a/n: i. 

Winter comes slowly, and the first snow marks Sasuke’s return.

His return is unexpected but warmly received. What surprises her even more is that he came to pick her up at the hospital—Sasuke’s return falls right in time for the team’s monthly get-together at Ichiraku. Sakura does not question his chivalrous attitude as she presumes Kakashi or Naruto to have talked to him into picking her up at the end of her shift to surprise her.

And what a charming surprise it is.

He is only here for two days, he tells her when she asks him. Sakura is disappointed but smiles nonetheless; having him for a few days before the new year is an agreeable present anyway.

As they walk together to join the rest of the team at Naruto’s favorite restaurant, Sakura glances at him every now and then. He has grown taller since the last time she saw him. He is a head taller than she is, it appears. His hair has grown too, his bangs covering his left eye. As for his body… His black cloak covers his entire being.

She frowns.

“Have you been injured lately?” Sakura asks. “How’s your arm?”

She should have asked these questions earlier but she has been too caught up with his unexpected appearance to question his health.

“No,” he replies. “I’m good. My arm’s okay, there’s no phantom pain.”

Sakura is not entirely satisfied with the answer, but acquiesces because Sasuke is being honest and if he says he is fine, then she trusts him.

Still…

She bites her lip, hesitates for a moment, but eventually says what she has in mind.

“Tomorrow,” Sakura begins, and from the corner of her eye she sees Sasuke tilts his head, “Come see me at the hospital.”

“Sakura,” he breathes her name in a puff of air, but it implies so much more. “I’m fine,” he reiterates softly. “You’re busy and I don’t want to bother you.”

“You don’t bother me, Sasuke-kun, you never do,” she says kindly, feeling warm because in his reply there is consideration about her. “Knowing you, you probably haven’t seen any doctor since you left the village so let me check you up, please.” Sakura stops walking and looks up to meet his gaze, so black and so mesmerizing, and adds, “As your friend and medic-nin, I want to see you off knowing you’re in good health.”

Sasuke sizes her up and even though she wants to look away because she feels suddenly bashful, she holds his gaze because she has a point to prove. If at one point she had wanted to accompany him in his travels, she knows that right now if he were to ask her to join him, Sakura would not be able to say yes; she has too much responsibilities for the moment, this is the least she can do for him.

Whatever he sees in her eyes, Sasuke seems satisfied because he nods his head.

“Alright,” he finally concedes. “What time?”

Sakura beams at him. Her smile is so wide it almost hurts her cheeks.

“Hmm, maybe around nine a.m.? I’m less busy in the mornings.”

“Aa.”

Small steps, Sakura thinks as they remain walking. Side by side but never touching—but the distance seems shorter than before.

.

.

She is there to see him off three days later at the village’s front gates.

She hands him a lunchbox—omusubis with okaka—and tells him to be careful. Sasuke blinks, pleasantly surprised; that she has packed him a bento or that she knows his favorite food, he supposes it might a combination of both. It is oddly domestic and it reminds them both of a memory long ago where they had shared their lunch with Naruto.

And then, it is like a movie Sakura pauses at her favorite moment and keeps playing on a loop. It lasts only a few seconds but every second feels like an eternity and it goes like this: the man she loves lifts his hand up to her face, and in her eyes the gesture seems so slow, so normal before he taps her forehead with the tips of his fingers like a kiss from the wind, and a gentle, barely there smile lingers on the lips.

“Thank you,” he says genuinely.

The sun has yet to rise but she feels warmth spreading all over her body.

Anyone who sees her that day notices she looks radiant, and when she is asked why she is in such a good mood, Sakura smiles, her grassy eyes sparkling and she says, “It’s a secret.”

.

.

[feewrites]

in fine (i.)

fandom: naruto characters/pairings: sasusaku summary: sakura works and waits, and time passes a/n: very short story divided in three or four parts, not sure yet. will post on ao3 as oneshot when completed

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Sakura exhales deeply. September is a calm month but peace knows no rest. Almost three years after the war, everything seems at peace, but Sakura knows, it is only on the surface. Everyone has a scar or two or more; some are carved into the skin while others burn in the mind, and only ashes are left.

.

.

Their hesitant smiles, their joyful laughs; the children at the clinic are less reserved, less plagued with nightmares and they look happier. As they sit on a bench watching them playing with a ball or ninjas and daimyos, Naruto thanks her, tells her had the clinic existed when they were kids, he would not have felt lonely at all.

He would have felt loved, he continues, taken care of, and Naruto believes wherever he is, Sasuke is grateful too.

Sakura’s stomach knots and she wants to cry. His words mean the world to her, it warms and breaks her heart at the same time. It shows the unfairness of his past, of Sasuke’s. Team 7 is a dysfunctional family and sometimes, Sakura wonders—but what ifs and whatnots are unhealthy thoughts because they lead nowhere.

In the end, Sakura wouldn’t have it any other way. They are her boys and she could not save them. Instead, they saved each other and she saves others because she can, because this is what she is.

She is no goddess, does not host a beast inside her flesh or holds the world by her retinas; she is only human, after all.

Her fists may destroy the earth, but her palms heal flesh.

Sakura prays it is enough.

.

.

“Why do you love Sasuke-kun, Forehead?”

The question Ino asked genuinely, with no malice when they were on their lunchbreak still rings in her head two days later. Sakura couldn’t answer her, pathetically stumbled with words and Ino just laughed and quickly changed the topic because it obviously flustered her.

Scrolls and charts scattered on her desk, Sakura still can’t find the answer.

She is twelve no more and while Sasuke is aesthetically pleasing to look at, with that raven hair and ivory skin, Sakura is not shallow anymore to find appreciation in one’s physique only. She had been amazed by his talent in their younger days, but now they are all incredible in their own way and while Sakura acknowledges his power with lucidity, she also takes pride in her own, nurtured with her blood, her sweat and her tears.

In retrospect, he has been rude to her plenty of times before and after he left the village. She has also seen his cruelty firsthand and has even been a victim of his—but she can’t really blame him for that since she has tried to kill him too. The genjutsu he put her under during the war still leaves a bad taste on her mouth. She does not blame him for she understands the purpose, but that does not mean she has to like it.

And despite everything, Sakura never forgets that he is incredibly kind, too.

It was just a crush at first. Silly and childish, Sakura does not deny that but somehow, she has grown to love him deeply and after all these years, she still loves him; Naruto and Kakashi have never stopped loving him, too.

Still, she wonders as she looks up at the sky—blue like Naruto’s eyes, clear and bright, she loves him, nothing will ever change that. Having no concrete answer to Ino’s question is not what upsets her.

The question itself unsettles her.

.

.

Life goes on but she does not forget.

She merely puts the thought away.

She has work to do.

.

.

[feewrites]

Day 22 – An Outsider’s Point of View

fandom: naruto characters/pairings: sasusaku a/n: sasusaku month, ssm17d22 warnings: i’m using the international system of units so for those who aren’t familiar with it, 15 m. is about 49 ft. also don’t take this piece too seriously i just went wild out of nowhere and i am just too lazy to change

It was a case of in-the-wrong-place-at-the-wrong-time.

They hadn’t noticed him yet and Boruto prayed the gods to stay unnoticed because he knew a free pass to hell was waiting for him should he be discovered in the bushes.

He wasn’t supposed to be here, hiding in the bushes and watching them make out. In fact, he wasn’t supposed to watch at all—but Boruto couldn’t keep his eyes away from them. He was drawn to them.

And he felt absolutely like a pervert.

And a voyeur.

Luckily—or unluckily, whether the reader is feeling lewd or not, there were at least a good fifteen metres separating him from the couple so he couldn’t see their faces clearly, but auntie Sakura’s pink hair and uncle Sasuke’s black cloak were unmistakable.

It was just a peck, at first. It had been so innocent that Boruto fought back the urge to snicker when he saw it. Instead, his lips stretched into a mischievous smile as he watched Sakura tug on Sasuke’s cloak, pulling his head downward so that she could kiss him softly on the mouth.

So ingenuous, so chaste.

But that all changed when the Fire Na—

(SORRY. WRONG SHOW.

It could have worked, though.)

Ahem.

—But that all changed when Sasuke attacked.

His hand caught her waistband before she could step away and he pulled her against him. If at first, Sakura had seemed surprised, she quickly responded to his enthusiast by looping her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers through his black hair.

(From his spot, it looked like she was pulling at his hair rather fiercely and knowing Sakura’s ridiculously beastly strength, Boruto was quite afraid Sasuke would go bald.

And what a letdown that would be.)

He watched as Sasuke’s hand drifted from Sakura’s waistband to her bare midriff, stroking the flesh with his thumb and judging from the breathy moans and quiet groans he could hear whenever their lips parted, they seemed to be really into it.

Boruto was into it, too.

Therefore, when they disappeared in a puff of smoke two minutes later, Boruto felt strangely disappointed. It wasn’t really educational—not that it was supposed to be—but it was raw and oddly fascinating. He’d seen his parents smooching before and it grossed him out but that was probably because it was his parents and Sakura and Sasuke were totally a different matter… or maybe not.

Boruto considered what happened very slowly.

He’d been watching them make out.

Hidden in the bushes.

So he was a voyeur; he could live with that.

But that was his master. His dad’s best friends.

His childhood friend’s parents.

Oh.

Sarada’s parents.

Oh.

Shit.

HOLY—

.

.

He could never face Sarada again.

[feewrites]

Aww that fic was absolutely fantastic. Sasuke and Sakura cute little interactions are so nice to read.

Thanks Anon! I also enjoy reading little moments like the one I wrote because after everything they’ve been through, I crave for peaceful, domestic moments :)

[feewrites]

Day 18 – Comfortable Silence

fandom: naruto characters/pairings: sasusaku a/n: sasusaku month, ssm17d18

Resting on his wife’s lap, Sasuke feels like sleeping.

Lying on his side, Sakura’s thighs, smooth and cool pillow nicely his head. Her hand is like a feather, gentle and light, brushing his hair and scratching his scalp—his spine shudders and his ears twitch; he’s basking in the exquisite sensations.

Her arms are completely bare, he feels no bracelets hanging on her wrists. Her hands have a nice and clean smell, like antiseptic but the scent is so faint Sasuke can barely perceive it since he’s so used to it; first from his past days in Orochimaru’s lair, then from the time he’s spent in the hospital after the war. However, he has since long grown to appreciate it, having associated the smell with his wife.

Her fingers untangle his black hair, tucking loose locks behind his ear before he feels her nails gently and slowly grazing his scalp. Sasuke knows she knows the way she moves her fingers on his scalp makes him tingle; she can feel the smallest tremors that run through his body and he’s quite certain she’s smiling above him, amused by the way his body reacts to her. With her other hand, the fluffy puff of the mimikaki goes swoosh and whoosh around his ear.

As far as he can remember, Sakura’s touch has always been therapeutic to him. It’s a gentle touch, tender and warm. He feels calmer, more serene.

(As a matter of fact, he sleeps best when he has his arm draped over her, her hand covering his or when Sakura cuddles him from behind with her hand inside his shirt, as though she’s checking his body temperature.

But, if Sasuke’s honest, he knows she does this to feel his muscles.)

When she touches him, Sasuke feels like he’s lying on the grass on a spring day.

It’s soothing.

Sure, there are times when they are feverish and passionate—and they happen more often than Sasuke will ever admit—but these quiet moments are the ones Sasuke relishes in the most. Words are silent and eyes don’t meet but it’s intimate and very, very peaceful. It’s in the way she touches him, when she grazes lightly over the helix of his ear with her nails, when she tucks his hair behind his ear because she doesn’t want loose strands to get in the way of her ear cleaning. It’s in the way she moves the mimikaki, drawing lazy circles around his ear with the white puff, and then picking on his ear with the other end.

It’s a nice feeling indeed—to feel cherished.

[feewrites]

1.

fandom: miraculous ladybug characters/pairings: adrinette a/n: also posted in ao3

“Smells good,” Adrien said, the scent tickling his nostrils when Marinette handed him a black mug filled with a chestnut liquid. It smelled like chocolate and yet, not quite exactly. “What’s this? Hot chocolate?”

Marinette settled beside him on the couch as she set down her own mug on the coffee table before her. Hers was crimson red and along with his, the set she’d gifted Adrien to celebrate his moving in to his new apartment served as a reminder of the time they’d both passed as Ladybug and Chat Noir.

They were superheroes no more, but memories of that rapturous period were enough.

Wrapping her arms around his middle and leaning on his shoulder, Marinette felt him intuitively close his toned arm around her form, his fingertips drawing circles gently on her waist. The gesture, small, gentle and so distinctively him made her close her eyes in appreciation as she inhaled his scent—faintly woody, the scent of his cologne had faded.

“Not exactly hot chocolate,” she mumbled, the tip of her nose brushing his sculpted throat. “Try again.”

He sniffed again before he took a sip. Chocolate? Plants? Well, it did have a fresh scent mixing with the sweetness of the cacao. “It has an herbal scent.”

“Yeah,” Marinette said softly, almost a murmur and when she pressed a faint kiss just below his ear, making his Adam’s apple bob, Adrien was quite certain she was smiling. She confirmed his suspicion when she looked up and met his grassy eyes, inquisitive, and added, “It’s peppermint hot chocolate. Alya’s recipe. Is it good?”

“Try it yourself,” he merely said, leaning forward and pressing his mouth against hers.

Parting his lips, Adrien felt her hot breath and her tongue invading himtasting the sweet flavor of peppermint hot chocolate, letting her have a sample of him. Her tongue curled around his, grazed lightly across the roof of his mouth before she swiped her tongue across his bottom lip, stopping her movement.

As if that would stop him—he’d always want her.

Adrien brought his free arm resting on her waist to her skull, tilting her head up a little so he could crash his lips on hers, fueled by desire when she opened her mouth and his tongue dove inside to taste her sweetness.

When they finally parted to catch their breath, his forehead to hers, Adrien’s long fingers tangled in her black hair trailed down to her spine, caressing her in a faint, loving gesture that made her feel like a puddle of water. It was one of those moments when the faintest touch of him would render her completely silly and make her melt like she was an ice cream melting on a hot summer night.

Utterly silly.

Exhaling deeply, Marinette’s eyelashes fluttered and his enamored, teasing eyes caught hers before she could avert her gaze—she knew from the moment she caught the glint in his eyes what he was going to say.

She could already feel the blood pumping onto her cheeks.

“So,” Adrien started, smirking. “Is it good?”

Feeling shy, Marinette closed her eyes as a whisper brushed Adrien’s lips. “It’s sweet,” she said candidly with a hint of a smile.

Adrien’s body trembled to the vibrations of his laugh.

[feewrites]

Day 14 – Even Just for a Moment

fandom: naruto characters/pairings: sasusaku a/n: sasusaku month, ssm17d14

He was a man of stately presence but he wasn’t overbearing. His quietness, his calm demeanor and his soft voice—he was like a flame, burning slowly, faintly and never bursting.

There was an air of tranquility around him now, as though he was at peace, not with the world as Sakura knew it was too soon, the wounds still fresh but at least, he looked like he was at peace with himself.

She’d caught him many times in his hospital room staring out the window with a distant look. The sight wasn’t anything extraordinary from his fourth floor room; red leaves falling down from the trees and above the skies forever changing as time passed. It was a nice sight, Sakura conceded, but Sasuke was never one to study nature like it was art.

Besides, she knew that look. She’d seen it before.

That faraway look, that look of wonder.

He wanted to leave. It was only a matter of time before he did and even Naruto wouldn't be able to make him stay; this time, he wasn’t leaving to cultivate his anger and his hate.

He wasn’t leaving for power.

For what exactly, Sakura wasn’t sure but he was like a hawk, looking into the horizon for something only he could see and what he was looking for, it wasn’t in Konoha.

Still, he came back to them and he was here, at least for now. What they had now, even if it lasted only a moment—with everything that happened between them, it was enough. She loved him and she knew he cared for her and it was enough.

“Hi, Sasuke-kun,” Sakura greeted him when she entered his room. Walking up to him, she held up her grocery bag and said, “This time, I brought you some apples. I have some time to spare before I have to go to work. Want me to peel them for you?”

He looked at her for a moment, then slowly nodded his head, “Please.”

He was going to leave but in those fleeting moments they spent together, she knew they would be alright.