I wrote this for my class back in 2015 or so for jokes and laughter. yes it's a troll fic, yes youre supposed to not know what to feel, no youre not supposed to take it seriously, and no i didn't keep a straight face when i wrote it
He was never really fond of Tuesday nights. The hump of the week may has well have already begun and there was still so many more days until the weekend—at least that would be the case if he were just a civilian. Instead, Sasuke had another reason for his Tuesday woes, specifically the weekly Uzumaki-Uchiha dinner.
It was his turn to cook again with Hinata that night at Naruto's home, so it wasn't like he was needed at all in the kitchen. Still, Sakura had threatened him with her fists to stay and make himself useful. He groaned internally. There was nothing he really knew how to make or wanted eat so long as they weren't food pills. He'd had enough of those over the years. Meanwhile, Hinata reminded him that the most basic foods could warm the heart- as she prepared some of the most complex dishes he'd ever seen.
While flipping through a cookbook, he landed on a page towards the center, suddenly feeling his mouth water and his mind wander. Sasuke glanced over at Hinata, hesitating.
"Do we have potatoes?"
She pointed into the pantry. "I believe we do, though they may be old."
No, they were pretty fresh. Discovering them was like becoming relieved for the first time in a long while, his heart slowing and his eyes growing greedy for more. He doesn't know if he should undress the russets before warming its core, but he does know that he needed to wash off the grime first. Taking five large ones in his hands, he placed them carefully into a strainer, rinsing each spud by rubbing his thumb along its grooves.
"Oh baby, you're so wet."
"Sasuke, did you say something?" Hinata called out behind him.
"The counter is getting wet."
She handed him a towel, both reaching for each other wordlessly as they passed along the cloth. In a moment of panic, he dabbed the dry counter and set it to the side, hoping that Hinata didn't catch him in his fragile lies. But she was unaware of the sin running through his mind and down the drain as she noisily diced spring onions, keeping to herself whether she was aware or not of Sasuke's forbidden pleasures.
It was a blessing in disguise at least, and he reunited with his golden delicacies. Under the shimmering waterfall, he could see the tanned skin gleaming, waiting for the soft touch of flesh against starch. It called to him, whispering delights into his waiting, empty soul. His mouth felt too small for his accumulating thirst. Something had to be done.
He covered the slick tates with his hands, shielding his leering eyes from them as he continued to rub at the nub located at the base of a particular one, slowly, lavished in wetness. It started to become an addiction as he worked at them from all sides, going as far as to dip his other hand into the depths and emerging with not one, but two. Grinding his teeth together, he suppressed the urge to show that though he spoke very little words, he had a more talented skillset with his tongue. It couldn't sit still, and even as he worked on the last potato, he brushed the ridges of his mouth fantasizing about what could be.
Unfortunately, the building sensations had a greater effect on Sasuke than he would have liked. During the final stretch, he buckled against the counter, bracing himself with his elbow as he tried to finish the job before he grew too weak to go on. The waiting pota-hoes tried to seduce him, oh they tried so hard, but he had to remain strong lest he fell into Eve's temptation and claimed the same demise. He never meant to stimulate himself as far as he did, but—
"It could be us, but u playin'," he gasped, furrowing his eyebrows in frustration.
As he reached to shut the faucet, he found himself battling an internal enemy that he'd forgotten for just a blissful moment. What kind of potato dish should he make? Sasuke cursed under his breath, already fondly wishing he could punish the potatoes for making him choose between them. If only he could take one in his hand, the water dripping from his darling's skin, and hear his palm come into contact with the naughty, dirty potato it used to be. But it was clean, purified from the sins he wanted to taint it with.
He had to keep himself under control. For bae.
Consent was important to him and he would never harm his precious potate in such a deceitful way. It had to be ready for him, ready to be bitten into and its juices coating his mouth with holy perfection and the soft mashed—
Mashed potatoes.
Of course.
Sasuke had been so blind. He should have realized its true form as it watched him patiently, smoldering, waiting to be hot enough to bake the salty sweat on his skin. It was about to get steamy for them both.
He went through his procedures robotically but quickly, lighting the fire below as he suffered through its own preparations, knowing fully that it was undergoing a transformation of its own as love boiled, lust just simmering on the surface. Time meant nothing to him as he waited for it to emerge from its confinements as a changed potato.
"Soon, my precious," he whispered.
And when the kitchen timer rang true, he quickly poured the cloudy waters away to reveal her dazzling form. There was no hesitation in his step as he was drawn closer to the embers. The wisps of perfection to wrapped around his fingers, beckoning his hand closer but burning him at the touch.
"Babe, I'm delicate."
The love marks that appeared on his hands stood out against his callouses, a beautiful combination of pain and endurance. He let out yet another moan as the stings dug deeper. The more he tried to hold onto his lover, the more it seemed to want to escape his grasp. Was this their first fight? Darling, no.
But it felt so right even through the hurt. But Sasuke felt so complete when they were together. He pounded at the skin, speeding up the motions as he cried out against it. The flames engulfed him but he knew he couldn't stop now.
"What a hawt potate," he growled, nail marks piercing into its back as he held on.
It was certainly a feisty potate, hot and heavy as his own baby gravy churned deep within. Eventually he got used to its swaying moods, but he knew that it wouldn't remain tame for very long as it waited for Sasuke to unveil it to the world.
As he prepared to take the glowing orbs for himself, flanking it with the metal tool that caused her to cry out in pain, Sasuke briefly noticed that Hinata had already left the room. Good, he thought, becoming more and more wild in behavior once he realized that there was no longer anyone standing in the way of his sinful night. He poured melted butter over its body, ravishing the smell that came from the mixture of fluids.
And he couldn't stop there. No, he needed his white milk to join with hers, the potato. Adding it in, she grew louder, more aggressive and unwilling to let him take her too easily. But once he growled out and drilled deeper, she allowed their bodies to mash together, her creamy skin overwhelmingly smooth and delicious. The sound of a squishing mass overrode his senses.
That was until he heard his name calling from another room, stressing the last syllable passionately . He responded reflexively.
"NAAARRRRUUUUUUTTTOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
"DINNNEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!"
That was right. He wasn't home enveloped in his sheets with his starchy lover. This wasn't his beautiful home. And it wasn't his beautiful wife.