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Enthralled

Summary:

Old friends are reunited to discover that some things simply do not change with the passage of time.

Notes:

This is completely self-indulgent smut written in honor of Valentine's Day. Hope you enjoy it!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Maybe it’s the aftereffect of the adrenaline leaving her veins, or the monumental relief that always comes with the end of battle, but there is languorous warmth in Tsunade’s bones, and her heart is full of sudden yearning. She has finally gained a sense of closure that she had not dreamed she might find, from the resolution of an all-consuming grief that has haunted her since the day of her lover’s death, so long ago. She has nearly forgotten what it is like to live free of such pain, and she feels strangely liberated. She feels alive, yet conflicted somehow.

The camp is filled with the sound of multitudes of Allied shinobi celebrating a hard-won and costly victory, but the Hokage’s tent is a tiny oasis of quiet amidst the clamor. For the first time in long years, Tsunade sits reunited with her only remaining childhood teammate and fellow Sannin, and she feels an inexplicable draw to him. It has been decades since the last time they met on neutral ground, though neither of them appear older than thirty. He is an infamous missing nin, a criminal that most call a monster, and he is guilty of a multitude of atrocities that negate the past heroics of his youth. Even so, his eyes still draw her in with their aureate glimmer, and his scent is the same, dark and heady like the forest at night, reminding her of bygone days filled with sensual pleasures that she abandoned long ago.

Several bottles of sake have already been consumed between the two of them, and as Orochimaru sets down his cup and licks a wayward drop from the side of his mouth, her lips find his on impulse, and for a moment time stops altogether. His hair is the same thick midnight silk under her fingertips, and she shivers as his arms encircle her waist, cautiously pulling her closer. He flicks his tongue past her lips, and a flutter of heat begins in her chest and slowly flows down through her belly. When she edges closer, he pulls back from her kiss and his eyes meet hers, hungry and glittering with dark promises.

“What is this, Godaime-sama?” he queries, his lilting voice wrapping around her, gossamer-soft and warm with long familiarity.

She doesn’t answer him. When their lips meet again, it feels like coming home.

Unbeknownst to all, they were lovers in the bloom of their youth, following instinct rather than reason. They had first come together in the dark after a particularly gruesome mission, coupling furtively under the stars, with the blood of enemies barely dried upon their skin. Tsunade tried to resist her own impulses, but Orochimaru quickly became her favorite addiction, and an unintentional source of comfort when nothing else made sense. There was a darkness in him that understood the same darkness she could feel growing within her after every assassination, S-class mission, or general slaughter they were ordered to complete.They would meet in secret, in the forest edging his clan’s lands, or in her room at night, when he would sneak into her window, and take her in her own bed.

She has nearly forgotten how beautiful he is, and how completely he overpowers her senses. He seems to remember exactly where to touch and kiss her so that she loses control of her wits, surrendering to him, in spite of the fact that doing so is surely putting herself in mortal danger. Tsunade is surprised to find that she simply doesn’t care. If Orochimaru had truly wanted her to come to harm, he would have left her to die on the battlefield, her body rent in two, beyond any other intervention. Instead, he orchestrated her rescue, and he saved her life. 

Tsunade’s hands are desperate, gripping the edges of his tunic as his lips traverse her neck, his serpentine canines grazing her flesh and leaving shocks of pleasure-pain in their wake. She tugs firmly at the rope belt at his waist, and he assists, loosening it and tossing it aside. Her fingers tangle in the heavy fall of his satin-smooth hair as he pulls at the remaining scraps of her obi, letting her torn kimono top fall open, baring her abundant breasts. She reciprocates, pulling at his tunic and undershirt until he pulls the cloth away from his body and she can see his form for the first time in decades.

In spite of the manifold experiments and alterations he has performed on himself, changing bodies, he hardly appears different from the young man she can still see in her mind’s eye. He is slender, but still lean and delicately muscled, with milk-pale skin that feels velvet soft under her fingertips, free of the scars he once had. The black curves and lines of his tattooed clan seals still mark his arms, accenting the unrelieved alabaster expanse of his skin.

Before she can make another move, he pushes her back against the sleeping bag they are sitting on, and butterflies roil through her stomach in a frenzy of excitement. He is dangerous, one of the most deadly men alive, and the prospect thrills her far more than it should. In an instant, she is sixteen again, reveling in the debauchery to be had with the most beautiful young man she has ever set eyes upon. A glint of devious amusement shines in his golden eyes, as if he too is caught in the midst of a memory, reminiscing about a time when they were younger, and much less scarred by the passage of time.

But this is no fumbling tryst under the stars, fueled by teenage hormones and riled emotions. Alcohol may warm her blood and take the edge off of her anxieties, but she is still lucid, and every move she makes is deliberate. She may be one of the only people on the planet to have ever seen him lose himself in the touch of another, and just as he is masterfully playing the most sensitive places on her body, she responds in kind.

He is solid above her, the length of his body pressed sweetly against hers, and his bare skin is preternaturally hot under her hands. She kisses him harder, lacing her fingers in his hair, grabbing a handful and pulling firmly, grinning at the resulting growl that rumbles through his chest. He has always hated anyone touching his hair because of how sensitive he actually is to being touched, but right now it is the perfect torment. She tickles her nails along his scalp and pulls again, jerking his chin up as he gasps. Tsunade digs her teeth into the pale column of his throat and he writhes against her, before grabbing her wrists and pinning her upon the ground.

His golden eyes devour the sight of her beneath him, and his lips follow the same path, his hands moving to divest her of what is left of her pants, before removing his own. Sharp teeth nip at the tender skin of her breasts and abdomen, bringing the edge of bright pain that steals her breath, leaving minute crimson droplets and lurid bruises in their wake. His lips and tongue soothe away the sting, stirring up heat and the ache of desire between her legs. Orochimaru moves up over her, pressing in close, his lips hot against her ear.

“The years have indeed been kind, Tsuna-chan.” His words are sibilant, liquid devilry teasing her skin, as his tongue traces her ear, making her squirm at the ticklish sensation. “Truly, you haven’t changed a bit.”

Long fingers wander down her chest, tracing circles around her sensitive nipples before pinching them tightly, making her gasp. Her red-lacquered nails dig into the skin of his arms, and he grins.

“Still prefer a little pain with your pleasure? I’m happy to oblige, so long as your watchdogs don’t do away with me for it.” His fingers twist and she yelps, then moans as red hot sparks of sensation sizzle down her body, converging until all she can think about is the need vibrating throughout her core.

His lips and tongue play over each of her nipples, leaving them wet, red, and throbbing. He leans over her on one arm as his free hand slips between her legs, cupping the whole of her femininity. Two fingers sink into her, engulfed in the tight, molten heat of her channel, and he makes a low sound of satisfaction before leaning up to kiss her again.

“So needy. How long has it been, my dear?” he purrs against her cheek.

“I don’t know anymore.” she whispers, her words punctuated by another moan as his fingers continue to play within her.

“What do you want most, Hime? For me to take you?” It has been years since anyone has called her by that nickname, and it brings back a flood of emotion as his fingers move deep within her, curving hard against the center of her pleasure. She moans, and jerks her hips upward, desperate for more contact.

“Yes, please.”

“Here?” Orochimaru thrusts his fingers once more before withdrawing, sliding them lower to press against the pucker of her ass. “Or maybe here?”

Tsunade gasps, “I…”

“Tell me, Tsuna-chan.” he murmurs, sucking on her bottom lip, biting gently. “I haven’t touched you in almost a lifetime, but I still know you better than anyone…inside…and out.”

“I don’t care, Oro. Everywhere, every way, just… make me forget the rest of the world for a while.” she whines faintly, and his eyes darken with unspoken lust. 

He gives the faintest sigh as he insinuates himself against her, skin to skin. She can feel his arousal, smooth, hot, and heavy against her thigh, and she reaches down to touch him, but he pins her wrists back, and captures her lips with his own once more.

Then he is pressing inside her, filling the aching emptiness within, and there is nothing but the delicious friction of their bodies entwined, of sweet sensation flowing through her from head to toe. He sets a deep, hard pace, and each stroke rocks through her, radiating almost-violent shocks of pleasure through her core, bringing her quicker than she could have imagined. She nearly screams as she comes, but his hand is quick and firm across her lips, muffling the sound. His jaw is clenched, and his teeth bared in effort as he holds himself back from taking his own pleasure, while her body pulses tightly around him where they are joined.

Orochimaru suddenly withdraws, turning her over and lifting her to rest on her knees as he sidles up behind her. Both of his arms encircle her waist, with one hand playing over the bundle of nerves at the apex of her nether lips, while the fingers of his other hand delve lower, into the abundant wetness now dripping down her thighs. He caresses her clit as his free hand drifts behind her, rubbing a slick finger over the cleft of her ass before slowly pressing inside. Tsunade gasps and moans raggedly, trying to relax against him as he works her open, gently adding another finger, then eventually a third. When she is ready, his fingers are replaced by the hot press of his cock, and she grips the sleeping bag beneath her hands, overwhelmed by the sensation of being filled this way. He groans aloud against the back of her neck as he slowly enters her, and she arches back into the sensation, reaching one of her arms back to anchor herself against his shoulder.

They had experimented with all aspects of sex in their loveplay as teens, so this act is not foreign, but he is still the only man to have ever had her this way, and it feels forbidden and thrilling, like everything else about their joining. His fingers over her clit continue to circle the sensitive nub as he begins to move, filling her and then retreating, his breath quickening, and sweat beginning to bead along both their bodies.

His pace is slow, carefully measured in time with the movements of his hand. After a few moments, his fingers dip inside her and his thumb rests upon her clit, allowing each thrust to set off a chain reaction within her body. The slow burn of sensation begins to build, driving higher and higher until he slows again, and she is afraid he is going to leave her there, as if suspended between Heaven and Hell. Then he withdraws almost fully and shoves back inside her, and she finally breaks, shuddering in his arms, biting her lip bloody with the effort not to cry out in agonized pleasure. This time, Orochimaru follows her over the edge with a choked groan against her hair, and she can feel each hot spurt of his essence as he empties himself deep within her body.

He withdraws and stretches out beside her, gathering her into his arms once more. Both are silent in the afterglow, with lassitude settling into their limbs, though unspoken emotions practically shimmer in the air between them.

“Do you ever think about him?” Tsunade asks in a soft voice.

“Who?”

“Jiraiya. I…I miss him. And I hate that he is completely lost. I mean, we couldn’t even put him to rest at home, in the village where he belongs..”

“Nothing ever truly lies outside the realm of possibility, Hime. You should know that by now.”  Orochimaru states plainly, his long fingers tracing the length of her spine. 

They remain this way for long moments, neither sleeping, as they both know her guards will come to take him away before dawn.

 


 

Tsunade lays one last missive on her desk as she shoulders her pack and lifts the hood of her cloak to cover her hair. Several months have passed, and Hatake Kakashi has been inaugurated as Rokudaime Hokage, beginning his tenure effective today. It is one hour until dawn, and she walks the familiar hallways of the Tower, letting certain truths sink into her mind: the nations are at peace for the first time in her life, and she is officially retired as a shinobi. Nevertheless, the burden of duty, once lifted, never truly goes away, and it is with a heavy heart that she leaves the building, unsure when she will return.

A tall ANBU in a falcon mask meets her at the village gate, accompanied by another shinobi in a long, dark cloak similar to her own. The ANBU secures what looks like a bracelet to her wrist, and she seals it with her own blood and an accompanying burst of chakra. It is the companion piece to a pair of chakra inhibiting cuffs, the only “key”, or method of release for the person wearing them.

Orochimaru lifts the hood of his cloak. His hair is tied back and he has covered his clan markings with some form of cosmetic. The cuffs look like bracelets around his wrists, and he has access to enough chakra to complete a simple henge, but that won’t be necessary until they leave the Land of Fire. He looks at Tsunade, who dismisses the ANBU with a nod of her head.

The village gates close behind them, and as old teammates reunited, the two remaining members of the Legendary Sannin begin their last mission together, only this time it is a personal one. 

With ease, they speed through the treetops in the direction of Amegakure, to bring their third teammate home at last.

Notes:

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