#like. it’s that simple. and it makes me weep uncontrollably | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

soraviie · 2 years

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spending holidays together.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader ━ masterlist

━ about: fluff, some angst if you squint ━ pictures taken from Pinterest

━ a/n: I tried to make this as vague as possible but obviously coming from a country and a family that celebrate Christmas, I was a little bit biased, either way however you celebrate this time or if you're just chilling, I hope you can enjoy this little reaction regardless. Also, there might be a little continuity from previous reactions for some boys

━ previously posted on soraviii

NAMJOON: “Monie! Come here, boy! Monie!”

Seeing only the rushing colours of the uncaring crowd, you waddled to the side and began to weep uncontrollably. Monie will get lost and die, and Namjoon will hate you forever. This was your first holiday together and you couldn’t even do this one simple thing.

And perhaps, yes, it was the three cups of Svarak talking which you’d drunk while wandering the Christmas market in Prague and perhaps yes, it was the horrid jetlag clouding your emotional state to the point where light inebriation was the least of your worries. Oh, why did you pressure Namjoon into bringing Monie abroad? Who brings a dog to a romantic getaway abroad anyway?

“He’ll get lonely,” you whined, placing your palms against Namjoon’s chest as you adjusted yourself in his lap.

“He doesn’t understand that emotion,” Namjoon had snided, hands reaching up to grab your hips. “Or any emotion for that matter.”

“Dogs can feel emotions!” you pouted in the poor thing’s defence whilst Namjoon brushed his thumb over your lower lip.

“I know, baby,” he affirmed. “I’m just saying he specifically doesn’t have them.”

“You’re so mean.”

Well, this idiot of course. Maybe you should have been meaner too, maybe then Monie wouldn’t think it as funny to rip away from his leash and go running off in between vendors selling gingerbread cookies and hot wine. And now be lost forever.

“Baby?”

Seeing Namjoon, trying to hold onto the thousands of gift bags to send home, running towards you, only made you weep all the harder, snot falling onto your jacket.

Tossing the paper bag into the slushed snow, Namjoon took a hold of your face and fretted, like he always did, a million miles per second.

“Are you hurt? Are you in pain? Did someone hurt you? Are your bones broken?!”

“You’re going to hate me!” you cried, earning nothing but a confused frown and prolonged worrying.

“Why would I hate my baby?” he cooed but you fervently shook your head, evading his kiss.

“I lost Monie! I-I lost him and they’re gonna sell him, Namjoon! Oh god, they’re gonna sell him to some mean kids as a holiday present who are going to pull on his tail and ears! Oh, God, what have I d-done?!”

“You mean this Monie?” Namjoon asked with a smile as he stepped aside and lo' and behold without the slightest hint of shame in the eye stood a white dog, his leash stretching to tie around Namjoon’s wrist.

“Oh my God, you bastard!”

The little dog was rather displeased by the callous and unrefined way of your hugging but you paid it no attention.

“I found him some five minutes ago,” Namjoon explained, more than a little bewildered at your outburst. “Trying to steal some poor guy’s chicken kebab.”

“And all the trip you fondled him more than me. I was but a decoration.”

“Okay, I get it.

“I mean, I bring my wonderful partner halfway across the world to the top 1 spot to celebrate winter holidays in Europe and what do I get? Nothing. They spend the entire time not admiring the splendour of a city with more than a thousand years under the belt, no, they spend that time buying dog treats.”

“Would you shut up?” you pressed a palm against Namjoon’s mouth, feeling the vibrations of his laughter against your skin. “It was our first holiday together, sorry for being emotional about failing you.”

“You could never fail me baby,” he muttered softly, taking your hand away. “Happy holidays. May we spent fifty more together.”

With a kiss against your temples, Namjoon tucked your legs closer into his lap. His apartment might not be a city with a thousand years under its belt and perhaps it did not smell of hot wine, but it was warm and comfortable, standing strong against the harsh weather of this year's winter and you were perfectly content on spending the holidays quietly in your lonesome. Either way just like he did in Prague, Monie slept the night away, only waking when needing to beg for some food.

YOONGI: “So which one is yours?”

And because it made sense, your mother removed her glasses, squinting at the TV.

“The second one on the left.”

“What, broad shoulders with a nice smile?”

“No, mom, that’s Jin! I’m with Yoongi.”

“Is it the little one?”

After a partially amused albeit exhausted sigh, you affirmed.

“Yes, it’s the little one.”

“He looks…nice.”

“He is nice,” you smiled softly to yourself. The broadcast ended and Yoongi’s face was replaced by a soft strumming of generic winter music. Looking out the window with a tangerine twirling between your fingers, you hoped he was at least warm somewhere in Seoul, warm and resting. As it was yesterday and as it will be tomorrow, there was a sunken pang that came when thinking of Yoongi. In times like these you wished nothing more for him to be normal, or at least a little less remarkable, for it to be ordinary enough to sit here with you, awkwardly nodding to whatever your mother said, holding your hand in his and gorging on these tangerines that you subconsciously bought for him.

But well…life was what it was and you had to accept him. All of him.

A ring at the door.

“Oh!” your mother jumped, startled by the jarring sound perturbing the otherwise mellow evening. “It’s probably those damn singers!” she cursed, rolling up the newspaper as if a bunch of mitten-cladded carolers could be thwacked on the nose like a misbehaving dog.

“I’ll get it,” you sprang to your feet, rushing to the door. “Hey, listen,” you yelled at the ringing stranger, battling with the rusty lock. “This is not a festive house so don’t expect any - oh.”

“Oh,” Yoongi echoed softly. His might be freezing red, along with his nose and his hat was perhaps so big it seemed to envelop his head as a whole, and he just might be covered in snow from head to toe as though he’d tripped and dove face down into a big pile, but to you, he was nothing but a vision.

“Happy holidays,” he whispered and stretched out a small parcel towards you which you clutched, head pounding away thoroughly dazed.

“You don’t even celebrate,” you muttered but Yoongi only shrugged.

“I’m here to celebrate you, nothing mo - wow!”

Wrapping your arms tightly around his neck you began to truly ponder if wishes could indeed come true in this harsh and unfair world as someone liked to say.

“You’re choking me here, lil’ heater,” Yoongi gasped for air but you didn’t listen, smelling in his faint cologne and breathing a heavy exhale of relief.

“Deal with it.”

He hummed lowly, with one palm reaching to pat your back. It might have been freezing but you didn’t even notice. Unbeknownst to you neither did he.

JIN: “It’s fine, Jin.”

Nervously, he exhaled, still twiddling with the reindeer print of his singing tie in the front seat of the car.

“I need to be perfect,” he muttered, peering through the dark at your childhood home standing in the distance like a menacing shadow of an oppressive rock face. One he had chosen to smash his head against this night.

“You don’t need to be,” softly, you denied, kissing his cheek. Even with the ring on both of your fingers, he blushed. “But you still are. Don’t worry. As heinous as you are, you're an angel compared to my relatives.”

Because of the panic-filled tremor running up his spine it took a whole two minutes for Jin to truly register your words, during which you’d already climbed out the car, taken the largest bulk of presents in your arm and knocked on the door, fully awaiting to be greeted warmly back home for the holidays.

“Heinous?” Jin muttered absent-mindedly before shaking himself out whatever terrible spell besieged him. It wasn’t your mother he was so afraid of -

“Oh, Seokjinnie! How’s my favourite son-in-law doing?!”

No, it definitely wasn’t your mother, though he would appreciate she’d pinch his cheeks just a tad less.

“So, you’re the fiance that they divorced once already.”

It was your judgmental aunts that had him sweating in consecutive nightmares for many months now.

“Auntie A, please, let’s be civil,” you pushed yourself in front of the slowly brewing conflict. “Not on the holidays.”

“So, Seokjin, we wanted for you to be more included so we…tried to make some of your home foods.”

Jin didn’t know much of this nice woman who spoke kindly to him. She might be your second cousin twice removed on your father’s side, or your aunt thrice removed on your mother’s side… Either way, the spread on the table indeed looked far more eccentric than he was used to. And ever since you’d entered his life, it had been nothing but eccentric.

With bated breaths, the nice lady and your mom waited for his approval and cringing inside, he gave a hollow, polite smile.

“I like it,” he vomited a bit in his mouth.

As soft music travelled from downstairs, muffled multicolour of lights glimmered from the small window of your bedroom behind which stretched vast slopes of snow covered by dark.

“What are they talking about?” Jin whispered, stroking your hair as you laid on top of him. Usually, he’d never liked it but you’d been more of his firsts than he’d ever thought. He could hear just the end of the conversation but the drunken drawl made the words nearly incoherent.

“About how much they love you,” you muttered in reply, tracing absent-minded patterns on his chest.

“Liar, liar, ugly pants on fire.”

“Hey, these pants are not ugly,” you whined and Jin hummed. “And I wouldn’t lie. Not on this season of goodwill.”

“Good will, my ass, are you not grinding against my crotch?”

HOSEOK: “Would you sit still?”

“Sorry, my nose was just itching.”

“Well, do you want it green?”

“No, ma’am.”

You smirked slightly before focusing back on the work at hand. Or should you say on the hand.

Hoseok really shouldn’t be looking this good in nail polish. Especially how immediately much you wanted these fingers up in your…Well, either way the polish would be destroyed then.

With the lights twinkling in the background and the fireplace burning, the night was swimming away into the late night with gracious, almost lulling ease. And while you drew the golden stars one by one, there might still be that treacherous minuscule pang of discontent in the lower pits of your heart, but you pushed it away. Ironically, the first night you painted matching nails it was a time much like this - winter holidays, here in snow-dusted Seoul.

“Just say you’re disappointed,” he had sighed.

“And what would that change?” you mumbled grimly, focusing on dragging the brush with near perfection, coating the nail slowly in all black.

Hoseok didn’t say anything, only drew yet another heavy sigh, before laying his head in your lap.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. You knew this would happen - no couple shirts, no photos, nothing shared in public, nothing to ever prove that this, whatever that even entailed, was real. You knew all that but if only knowing would hurt the hollow ache taking root. You felt the weight of his stare but rather than confronting it you decided to be a coward and focus solely on painting your nails. Because that’s what mattered when the love of your life had to tuck you away in his home like a dirty sock otherwise you’ll be harassed until mental breakdown. You knew he carried that ceaseless guilt all around, so much so, that even his ever-present smile was cracking at the seams like vinyl in a cold room.

“Maybe you can paint my nails?”

That at last had you glancing sparsely towards his side.

“You mean…like matching designs?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, the tone sounding completely casual. Almost too casual. “I don’t mind painting my nails and…

“And I’ve never stopped wanting to have a little bit of you with me everywhere.”

“As cute as it is, I think Baloo just farted.”

Hoseok threw a heavy glare towards your old, over-fattened Grinch of a Birman only to have it returned back tenfold.

“He hates me.”

“Just a bit. All done.”

Blowing on his nails, Hoseok glimpsed outside and you watched as his stare turned wistful, seeing the many rows of families, friends and couples all enjoying outside, trading easy laughter and intoxicated cheer.

“You don’t regret it, do you?” he muttered, almost incoherently. “Being with me?”

You brushed a hand over his knuckles with a sad smile.

“Our family might be small and our home might be a little quiet but it’s a good one. I don’t need anything else.”

For a second, Hoseok almost appeared stunned before his eyes softened in the glimmering lights and he brushed his forehead against yours.

“Happy holidays, baby.”

JIMIN: As the years began to pile up, more and more you began to understand the unceasing back pain all adults seemed to complain about and even more so the sentiment behind Grinch standing on a hilltop and yelling down upon the entire city “I HATE YOU!” The hatred for you came shockingly easy, hey, maybe you were just a bad person but what was not easy was to remember that you’d lost your best friend and the man of your dreams all in one well-coordinated swoop.

Forever didn’t seem so stable when it could be killed by a few petty, anger-driven words. The only forever would be the ceaseless taunting.

If only you would have spoken more; if only he would have listened more. If only you had been brave enough to finally tell your best friend you loved him. If only you were just bold enough to believe that his jealousy was out of fear and not some chauvinistic sign of unspoken ownership. If only you’d have the guts to crawl back and apologise. If only…

If only you’d crashed into him harder and cracked your own skull in the process. Then you wouldn’t have to be standing here, in the middle of a snowing open-air ice rink, with children skating amok, evading the pleads of their exhausted parents; you wouldn’t have to be standing here looking at the stupid face of stupidly endearing Park Jimin, of his stupid red eyes that hinted at not so long before finished crying session, of his stupid mismatched hair, growing dark in the roots and still blond at the tips and most of all you wouldn’t have to be feeling the unmistakable sensation of sheer joy as you were faced with someone whom in anger you swore to hate forever.

Guess that forever didn’t last either.

His hands, red and roughened from the cold, shuttered to a halt, previously occupied with dusting off your coat as he’d bumped into you on the ice, hurtling you painfully through the air.

He wet his dry lips and gently ghosted those dry-ass hands of his over your elbows, wanting to trap you? Hug you?

Either way, you were pissed and the crowd as it turned could be extremely lonely. Snowflakes fell in large clumps from the blackened sky, behind which sprawled the infinite Cosmos. Infinite Cosmos! With planets and galaxies and universes beyond your comprehension so why? Why, oh why, did this man hold so much power over you?!

“Don’t come near me,” you growled. “I don’t want to forgive you!”

Jimin being an obnoxious, catty bastard of an angel leaned into your face, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath on your nose, his own expression marred with sheer spite.

“So I’m forgiven now?”

There were many things to hate about Jimin. How he made your heart quicken and how well he was aware of that fact. The cocky smile he wore as your face hued in unflattering shades of red. You hated how sad he looked when he was down and how it made you want to ruin the entire world for ever daring to upset him. You were supposed to be unflappable, unapproachable and yet slyly like a creeping cat he had pushed past all those finely built walls to make a home in your heart.

“I’m angry at you!” you curled up your fists only to receive a harsh scowl in return.

“I’m angry at you as well!” Then he smirked because, despite all your talk when his arm wrapped around your waist, you made no effort to remove it.

“Stop doing that!”

“Oh, I’m sorry that my face makes expressions,” he rolled his eyes, pushing you closer.

Ask anyone and they’ll tell you that winter lights were pretty but they were cold, much like the sun at certain longitudes of the Earth, but currently, you couldn’t possibly get any warmer. Your back was positively sweltering acutely aware of his stable touch and the fine line you so inappropriately were skating on. Friends. Not lovers. Friends. Just friends. Not even friends now, ex-friends! Strangers! But the way he was holding you was of no strangers. Of no friends.

Standing here in this stupid, overpriced ice rink with its stupid golden lights, you felt yourself falter, succumbing to weakness. It was all his fault! So why could you not stop the smile blossoming upon your lips?!

“Park Jimin,” you shoved an accusing finger into his chest that definitely hadn’t been getting more toned as of late. “Will you hold yourself responsible when I experience emotional malfunction?”

“Do you mean feelings?” he clarified, eyebrows wrinkling in confusion. “Because if you do, I've been experiencing emotional malfunction for a long time already. I’m the victim here!”

“And what do you want me to do about it?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, but you knew that glint in the eye that had nothing to do with the glimmer of the decorations. “Kiss it better why don’t you.’Tis the season of kisses.”

“It’s not.”

“It is now,” he growled and pushed his lips upon yours.

TAEHYUNG: Honestly, of all the crazy moments within the last year, it was this one that made you fully grasp just how wild one’s life could get. Here you were on this shaking metal box, after much snivelling and snarling to get a little piece of paper, cramped in between two sweaty dudes and travelling hundreds of miles per hour just to see someone’s son. Embarrassing. And yet you were trembling inside.

Catching a taxi, you tried not to get overwhelmed by the bustling of this foreign city and instead focused on perfecting the tied ribbon, praising the heavens that it didn’t get too smushed in your carry-on luggage. Your family were more than a little concerned and more than greatly disheartened by you skipping away across the world on winter holidays of all time but anyone with eyes could see - your heart was already long gone to that stranger in your phone.

Naturally, you didn’t enjoy seeing Taehyung so glum but the miserable reply of “Doubt so” to your misleading little “Happy Holidays, dear!” did grant you a bit of selfish cheer. He was missing you.

As the decorated trees and many overrun shops breezed past the car windows, you smiled to yourself, nuzzling into the red scarf he’d gifted you. Though when the time came to rap at his door, after getting through the apartment security, you found a sudden knot forming in your throat. What if he didn’t want you to see you? The plans after all had been seemingly set in stone - you return back home and spend the time there. What if he’d been preparing to go out with friends? What if he wasn’t even home? You’d look even more foolish after going through all this trouble.

Shaking off the nerves, you gathered yourself and knocked before the sliver of cowardice could nestle once again. You could hear Tannie bark on the other side which was a rather good indication he was home and just a second after were elatedly greeted by the sound of slippers shuffling across the floor. You threw a wink at the camera showing his doorstep, barely having the time to jump out of the way when light speed they were thrust into your face.

“You might get stuck that way,” you teased as Taehyung stood in the doorway, floundering for air like fish out of the water.

“I thought you were going home for holidays.”

“Well, I couldn’t leave you all alone,” you shrugged. “Don’t say that you’re not - oof!”

With the gentleness of a raging rhinoceros, Taehyung yanked you into his arms, swaying around as though he was hearing his favourite song.

“You didn’t even look at your present,” laying on the bed next to him, you pointed at the still-wrapped gift perched on the nearby bedside table. With an elbow braced against his head, he didn’t even glimpse at the gift or attempted to deny the accusations.

“I will tomorrow,” he promised quietly and you hummed, twirling the button of his loose cardigan that truthfully sat too low on his chest for your mental well being.

“I’m sorry this probably wasn’t the best winter holiday -”

“It is,” he interrupted without blinking, tone gaining such a lilt of fierceness, you raised your head in astoundment.

“Did your wish come true or something?”

“Yes, it did,” he answered simply.

JUNGKOOK: Perching the laundry basket on your hip, you tilted your head to the side, curiously inspecting the green thing attached to the ceiling. You knew Jungkook had his fair share of quirks but putting herbs in the doorway… Shaking your head, you gave a resigned sigh and decided to leave your boyfriend be. But the green thing seemed to haunt you like the world’s shittiest ghost. It wasn’t enough for it to be shoved in a random corner of Jungkook’s own home but soon it invaded yours as well. Waking up, with one cheek pressed against his chest, you shook Jungkook awake, pointing concernedly at the vegetable hovering on the lamp above your head.

“What is that for?” you inquired, confused but he merely smirked, wagging his eyebrows in nothing but the most annoying fashion.

“Why don’t you tell me?”

“How would I know?” you grumbled, kicking a leg out of the covers, missing the affronted look Jungkook threw your way, when you missed his puckered up lips.

As the month dragged on, you grew increasingly perplexed at how Jungkook’s green celery seemed to simply appear wherever your eyes strayed to. You were growing half convinced he had these things half a dozen shoved down his pants.

“Yes, mom, I got the correct size,” you defended, trying to spot Jungkook’s car in the underground car park of the hellsite that was a shopping centre during the holiday rush. A black car…in a shopping parking lot...like looking for a needle in a stack of needles. Finally, seeing the correct licence plate, you drew a heavy sigh of relief.

“I’ve got to go, talk to you later!”

Upon getting in, you threw the many bags in the backseat, ready to yap Jungkook’s ears off with some overdue complaining only to fall promptly silent when seeing that piece of kale hanging from the car mirror.

“Ehm…I don’t think it’s an air freshener, Koo,” you gently informed him and he scoffed, lips jutting out in a deeply offended pout.

“What did I do?” you whined, receiving a dirty glare as an answer.

“Do you hate me or something?” he glowered after turning his head to the other side and laying his chin on the steering wheel.

“Why would you say that?”

“You’ve not given me any kisses,” he pointed glumly at his spinach.

“Why would…why would a bundle of herbs equal kisses?” you frowned, failing to see his logic. It wasn’t like it was rare but you’ve never been this confused, especially given how resentful he appeared.

“Herbs-?” then all of a sudden he broke out in roaring laughter, startling you immediately. Clutching at his stomach, Jungkook threw his head against the seat. “Oh my god, I’m in love with a dummy.”

“Don’t call me a dummy!” you insisted. “Explain why artichoke equals kisses?”

Whatever you said set him off even further and loudly clapping, it would seem Jungkook would commit suicide by choking himself with laughter.

“ᵃʳᵗᶦᶜʰᵒᵏᵉ,” he gasped, tears streaming down his cheeks and blissfully ignoring your budding irritation.

“Fucking Elmo laughing ass,” you groused, turning up your nose and hissing when Jungkook pressed a wet kiss against your cheek.

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albertswitch · 2 years

Photo

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BWWRPM7Y

He gave me a look that shivered my bones and then without another word pulled me across his lap.

He moved me about to his comfort level. When I was settled to his liking, he placed one hand on the top of my left leg and the other on my back, and gave me a last brief lecture on my actions and on not shaming him in front of his friends.

And then it began. The first swat struck my bottom and I yelped in pain and surged forward on his lap. He pulled me back slightly, and at that point, realizing it was time to pay the price of my brattiness I let myself go. Abandoned any idea to act as an adult girl I started to squeal like a bratty kid.

"Nooo! Please, I'm sorry, sir...uncle, please don't spank me! PLEEEASSE!"

My tearful and penitent cries were wasted. The spanking started in earnest, and uncle seemed determined to make sitting a painful prospect for some time to come for me. I began to cry my eyes out and wiggle as I always have done when spanked since I was a little girl. Soon my poor chubby bottom was on fire, and I felt I was the sorriest girl in the world as he spanked and spanked me.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SPACK! SMACK! SLAP! SMACK! SMACK! SPACK! SMACK! SLAP! SMACK! SMACK! SPACK!

Uncle rained down hard hand spank after hard hand spank, again and again.

Soon the, “No Sir! Please Stop Sir! Pleaseeeee!” wails gave way to simple crying long before he was done roasting my poor rear.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SPACK! SMACK! SLAP! SMACK! SMACK! SPACK! SMACK! SLAP! SMACK! SMACK! SPACK!

By now all I could feel was the continuous rain of spanks over my bottom. The sting was unbearable, I could virtually feel the flaming red heat spread over my swollen buns. Uncle was an exactingly thorough spanker, my all rear end was simmering with scarlet heat when he switched smacking down the top of my thighs. Keeping me closer he shifted me higher on his right knee and laid in hard on those particularly tender spots.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SPACK! SMACK! SLAP! SMACK! SMACK! SPACK! SMACK! SLAP! SMACK! SMACK! SPACK!

I threshed my heels in midair, clutching my bottom cheeks as they received each stunning blow. I was weeping uncontrollably now and quaked from crown to toe, streaks of pain were lancing the range of each leg.

When I was sure I wouldn't be able to sit down again anymore, he stopped spanking me. Uncle held me over his lap until my wailing subsided. Once my tears had abated, he subjected me to a shaming last scolding, “You, young lady, won’t show any disobedience, attitude, and act of disrespect that can bring you into problems and bring shame over me anymore. The moment you cross the line you'll be straight back over my knees, and believe me, this spanking will seem you a cakewalk. Now get up.”

I got off his lap, and then my only concern was the excruciating fire raging on my rear.

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obito76 · 2 years

Text

[Closet Secrets]

Chapter 4 : Feelings or something else?

You can read my full work here on AO3

---

Raven sighed into her pillow as Dick brushed soft kisses on her shoulder, his comforting weight pressing her down into the mattress. His hard cock rested against her arse, warm and a bit wet with pre-cum that she could feel stain against her skin with each brush across it.

“Missed you so much, Raven,” he murmured against the skin of her shoulder before repositioning himself to deliver feather-light kisses along the vertebrae of her spine, heading toward her neck.

“Mmmhhh, me too,” there was an airiness to her voice that always occurred whenever Dick worshiped her body with kisses. “I was so lonely without you…my fingers just aren’t the same.”

She felt his chuckle against her body, dark and warm and fucking sexy, and then his lips brushed against her neck slow and gentle before he spoke with a hunger in his tone that made her want to rub her thighs together, “You fucking slut, how often did you touch yourself?”

“Everyday…” Raven whispered, a blush heating her cheeks at the admission.

Dick started grinding his cock against her and Raven let out a sharp breath of excitement. She naturally shifted her hips upward, trying to angle his cock to sink into her weeping pussy instead of sliding over her flushed lips, but he ignored her unspoken request and she needed to bite back a whine of disappointment.

Dick’s lips brushed against her ear, sending tingles down her spine, as he spoke, “And what did you think about? When you touched yourself?”

“Fuck, thought about you. About your fingers, stroking inside of me, making my vision turn white. Or your tongue—oh fuck!” Raven broke off as Dick bumped the head of his cock against her swollen and needy clit, causing her legs to spasm.

“Keep talking, Raven. I know you weren’t finished,” Dick scolded her as he delivered a sharp slap to her ass with his large palm. Uncontrolled whimpers spilled out of Raven’s lips before she pressed her face into the pillow, trying to calm down her breathing.

“Raven,” her name came out as a deep and primal warning from Dick’s chest and her heated core throbbed just from hearing it.

Fuck, she was so lost for him.

A painful slap that echoed in the air and would leave a red palm-print on her ass cheek, forced a scream out of Raven.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Raven moaned, one side of her face pressed against the pillow so she could speak without being muffled. She swallowed to clear her throat, but her voice still came out whiny and needy, “I, fuck, thought about your tongue. L-lapping at my cunt, sucking on my clit, ngh—you always make me come so much, so hard.”

“Good girl,” Dick purred as he soothed her spanked asscheek, his palm rubbing it in gentle circles, “I’m going to do all that for you, baby, but after. Right now, I’m going to fuck this cunt silly. Do you want that?”

“Please, please, please,” Raven begged readily and easily. She had been dying to have her empty cunt filled by Dick’s thick cock since she saw him in the morning in the kitchen with his wife. He finally returned from a two day-long assignment in France and Raven was desperate and needy for him. She would answer any questions he asked and any requests he demanded if he would finally sink in deep into her and make her feel complete.

Dick’s kissed the area behind her ear, that strangely sensitive spot that always pulled a moan from her mouth, unbidden. And then she felt Dick rubbing his fat cockhead against her wet folds to lubricate himself. Raven whined at the simple action, her quim clenching against nothing, already greedy to have his cockhead sit snuggly against her womb.

“Babe, you’re so wet already. Your needy little pussy wants my cock that badly?”

Raven’s eyes nearly rolled to the back of her head from hearing Dick utter such filthy words with easy confidence.

Hearing Dick say words like cunt and slut and fuck always made her wet; she just found it so fucking hot, especially when they are directed towards her.

She nearly panted as she spoke, “Yes, yes, Dick—fuck I’m so wet for you. Don’t tease me, please? Please Baby?”

“What do ya want, Raven? Say it. I’m not doing a thing until you say it.”

“God, please, Dick,” Raven whined pathetically, trying to wiggle her hips and get his perfect, gorgeous cock inside of her, where it belonged, but Dick’s large hands pressed down her hips, holding her securely against the mattress.

“Say it,” his voice came out dark and demanding and just a bit needy, and it was all completely sexy.

Raven opened her mouth in compliance, speaking before her brain could play catch up and she started babbling, “Fuck me, please, I want—cock. Your cock. I want your cock. Iwantyour—”

Dick sunk his cock in all the way to the hilt, ripping a loud cry out of Raven’s throat as his cockhead tapped against her cervix. Raven, despite being so wet her fluids were already soaking against the sheets, gushed out more slick from her quim, her body overjoyed with being completed by her lover's cock.

“Sweet fuck, Raven, you are such a slut for my cock,” Dick grounded out through clenched teeth as Raven’s warm and slick walls squeezed tightly around him.

“Yes, I-I am,” the reverential tone made Dick purr with happiness.

“I’m going to fuck this greedy little pussy and make you come like crazy. Is that what you want?”

“Yes, please, that’s all I want.”

“Good girl,” Raven’s cunt clenched around Dick’s cock at the praise.

God, two simple fucking words keyed her up so much. Raven wanted to do everything in her power to make him say those words again and again.

Fuck she wanted to be his good little girl so badly.

Dick used his hands to press down against Raven’s hips, his fingers gripping hard enough that after a few minutes it would leave bruises that she wouldn’t heal in the morning. He used the leverage to retract his hips and pelvis, unsheathing his cock from Raven’s pussy until only the head of his cock remained, being squeezed gently by Raven’s walls.

Dick paused there for a moment, until Raven started letting out a wounded whine, displeased with the emptiness of her. Dick could see Raven’s hands gripping the pillow tightly and, despite not being able to wiggle her hips, she kicked her feet back from her knees, her heels lightly slapping against Dick’s arse.

Dick shook his head at her childish display before sinking in at an angle, only a few inches deep, making sure to stroke hard against the spongy tissue at the front of her cunt.

The effect was immediate.

“Oh! Oh!” Raven moaned whorishly as Dick kept thrusting against the same spot repeatedly with controlled strokes, his weight pressing down on her making the pressure against her cunt even greater with each slow and steady thrust, “Fuck Azar, Dick, Dick!”

Dick persisted with his shallow but meaningful fucking, making sure her g-spot was under constant assault by his cock as he slid just across it and then back again, over and over, incessantly. He knew it was driving Raven crazy when she started pressed her face against the pillow and bit down on it, trying to stifle her moans, but the sounds leaked through her clenched teeth. Even muffled, he could hear how affected she was.

“You like that don’t you? Like my cock driving you crazy, making you want to cry.”

Raven ignored him, digging her face deeper into the pillow, her thighs quivering and her walls undulating around his cock as her body already started approaching an orgasm.

Dick let out a harsh growl at Raven’s lack of response, running his hand up to her messy purple curls and gripping tightly. He pulled on her hair and Raven let out a yelp as her head was forced off the pillow. Tears pricked her eyes from the painful grip, but Raven didn’t complain.

She loved it when Dick was rough with her.

“Answer me,” Dick hissed out, his thrusts becoming more aggressive as he lost a bit of control.

“Ungh, Fuck! Dick! Your cock—ngh, shit—feels too good!” Raven managed to ground out some coherent words around a bout of moans and whimpers as Dick fucked her to near delirium.

“You love it don’t you? Love my cock, love me making you a needy whore? Only I can do this for you, right, Raven?”

“Oh, fuck, yessss. Only you, only you,” Raven sobbed, tears falling down her cheeks now, overwhelmed by Dick’s pointed attack on her g-spot and the delightfully pain against her scalp from his grip.

It was so fucking perfect.

“That’s right, that’s it, going to come? Raven, your perfect cunt is fluttering around me like crazy. Don’t hold back baby, be a good girl and come for me,” Dick coaxed her with a lushness in his voice, gently pushing her head down against the pillow, his palm still on her head as a grounding presence.

Raven sobbed again, her toes curling, and she could only mutter fuck and God and Dick a few more times as a pressure kept building up in her core like a tightly sprung coil—and then it snapped.

Raven shrieked as her cunt gushed obscene amounts of slick against the bedsheets and against his cock and groin as she squirted, her thighs quaking as Dick fucked her through a mind-numbing orgasm.

God, it felt so fucking good, fucking heavenly.

Her world spun and her throat ached, but, after a moment, Raven was completely cognisant when she tried and failed to close her legs together, to protect her sensitive cunt from Dick’s insatiable cock as he buried into her, deep.

“No, no, no, no, please, I’m so fucking sensitive,” Raven’s voice croaked as she tired begging, turning back to look at Dick’s face and she knew she was fucked when she saw his flared nostrils and burning gaze.

“Use your safe word,” Dick growled, his speed slowing down, but not the depth of his thrusts.

Raven immediately clasped her mouth shut, her teeth biting into her lower lip and drawing the taste of copper into her mouth. The sensitivity of her post-orgasm cunt almost hurt.

And she might actually like that pseudo-pain a bit too much.

And Dick fucking knew it too.

“That’s what I thought,” Dick huffed out, his demeanor breaking for a second as he smiled widely down at her.

“Oh fuck, I love you Dick, I really fucking love you.” Raven couldn’t keep the adoration out of her words as her body quivered in pleasure.

His smile was breath taking.

Fuck Starfire,

She loved this man.

And then he started pounding away deep and right in front of her womb and all she could think about is how much she loved his cock.

#robrae #dickrae #teen titans #raven roth #raven teen titans #smut #dick grayson #robin #smut prompts #shameless smut #teen titans smut #smut writing #raven x robin #dick grayson x raven #dick grayson x rachel roth #cheating

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newagesurvivalist · 5 months

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Questions and disputations

Life offers us a variety of problems and matters for consideration. Thought, that boundless source of occupation, is moved uncontrollably between day to day affairs, mantras, abstract speculations, aspirations to greatness and success (or perhaps we should say, sensibleness), and, of course, our search for meaning.

Certainly, it seems we need a lot of affirmations during the day, and this is a common theme in wellness buzzwords, that one needs to affirm one's own happy existence - his sweet life as Shakespeare called it (Midsummer Night's Dream) - to be more content or presumeably see some great, as of yet unperceived joy about his or her life. However, to me it appears as if ones true intrepidity, his richness and luck, is verily found in a certain sternness of spirit, in fact, why in nothing more than persevering or holding out during one's time, or, in fact, continuing forever with the simple routine God has deemed him fit to perform.

The process of acquiring factual truth is terrifying. Frankly, we are often taken aback when attempting to fathom excellences in concrete theory. Speculative confrontalism is unlimited, but foundations are found in divine contemplations. The how and why of predicaments is full; however, in principle there may be a difference in the conflagration of contemplative derailment and psychology. By all means, amendment has to set the particulars of confusion to a directive. Eternity, in a theological sense, aids us in the assention of hope in a valid and actual showdown between liminaries and cognitivities. The graphic, of nominal disputation, is full of diminishings in the wholeness of distinct areas of freedom. The capability, of sheer remembrance, has some relation to the simplicity of significant description, and yet the revolution of commemorative indomitability may aid us in a discrete way, but this will always haunt us in the last analysis.

These are crazy things, but the strangeness of life is always going to make us say unusual things. The inner and the outer are distinct. In our inner life we move chaotically to find some fixed point or foundation; in our outer life we state the obvious and rail against enemies, or seek to stand our ground somehow, but as someone once said: there are no enemies here.

A well-known Dutch author referred to the television as the "treurbuis" or weeping tube. I am moving into my own place this month and one of the things on my list is to purchase a television. However, in a weird way it frustrates me. I love to just sit and allow time to pass; in a way, this is my main hobby, but some - weeping, sorrowful - part of me does desire a television in my house, as if it wouldn't be a house otherwise: that's almost the thing, that I am just desecrating this entire zone of my own house to another man's idea of "home", of having a spell at home. Somewhere I am thinking I don't even want a television. It's like, you can just hae a room with maybe a radio, bookcases, a piano even - and then you can dwell in your house in contemplative concentration, doing what you like and frolicking a bit. It is all about the "duur uw uur" of Albert Verwey. Life is really not composed of acts, but rather of routines, and our mission is truly to be the best we can be in the limited time we have: to do something meaningful, to develop our repertoire, to be happy in our work.

In practice, there is no knowledge: from there comes the notion that academic philosophy is not knowledge, but sport, custom. However, there is a time and place for philosophy. A man can consider the mysteries of the universe, but he can also fight for them, wage a war. In any case, waging a war is the only time ideas are completely relevant. Not because war is supposed to destroy another. On the contrary, we see that the philosophical war is aimed at growing each other in knowledge, to some extent. The capital is the cerebral. We strive in life to achieve some degree of elevation, to escape from our wretched predicament. The thing is, we can find ourselves involved in a variety of art forms, and each genre gives us opportunities to become fuller, wiser individuals. The point is to take on certain projects. This is all more than simply passing the time.

We decide what is good. Religion is dealing with humans. Yes, we can't always understand religion, but all religions have a cause that keeps them together, a design and order. We don't need order, but we do need a cause. This is how people congregate.

So we see that there is no way to fix our attention entirely on an idea. All ideas constantly vie against each other. Conquering oneself is an illusion, for if it isn't the cosmic truth that satisfies us, then it will be some passing problem that bugs our mind. But so we do see that we don't really need anything to relate to our fellow man. All we need is a cause. I will state that the best thing for us is to embrace a certain lifestyle. It could be Punk Rock, but frankly I feel more attracted to more national themes. The best thing for us is to find some common ground in the metaphysical quagmire.

Life is truly diverse. We move from the inner to the outer, and then we are swamped by crazy problems, but there is a simpleness to the foundation of the world that can be found even in an untroubled, easy stance to life's affairs.

#a midsummer night's dream #note #ramblings #gerrit komrij #hegelianism #latinity #education #christianity #buddhism #daoism

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simpvalley · 3 years

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How They Show Their Love (RSV Bachelors Edition)

♡ Characters include: Ian, Jeric, Shiro, Kenneth & Phillip

♡ A/N: This was written in a day after only playing SDV for 60+ hours over the past two weeks. I hope you enjoy! ❤

Ian

Giving: Acts of Service

Ian knows no better way to show his love for his loved ones than by making himself useful through sheer hard work and this definitely reflects in his relationship with you. He will always want to know how he can be of service to you around the farm or if he can run any errands for you - just because he wants to be helpful to you and to remove any burdens he can off your shoulders.

You’d just returned home from a day at the mines to find the entire house sparkling from top to bottom, a delicious warm meal waiting for you. Ian was in the middle of watering the pots of flowers you’d put around the house as decorative pieces. “Welcome home! I was just finishing up some chores I thought I could help out with,” Ian said with a cheerful smile.

Seeing how happy he was being helpful, you didn’t have the heart to tell him they were plastic flowers. You’d just have to replace them with real ones.

Receiving: Words of Affirmation

Ian has many insecurities, from his impoverished background to his lack of a proper education. Hearing from you that he has you by his side to support him in overcoming these insecurities will mean the absolute world to him. Reassurances from you that you believe that he is indeed capable of whatever it is he is trying to do, be it learning how to read and write or his woodworking skills, will also help keep him motivated to continue trying his best to improve his skills.

It was a quiet morning on the farm. You were putting together iridium sprinklers as a favour for Alissa while Ian sat on the couch, a book he’d borrowed from the library open on his lap. Not having had the opportunity to have a proper education, Penny had suggested he start learning how to read and spell simple words with children’s fairy tales. He’d chosen Cinderella as the first book he’d tackle.

You were just packing up the last sprinkler when you heard a quiet sniffling. You quickly got to your feet and approached Ian who was sitting hunched over on the couch with his face hidden from view, asking worriedly “Ian? Are you okay, babe?”

Ian quickly ran the back of his hand across his face before he looked up with an obviously forced smile and said “I-I’m fine.” You sat down on the couch next to him and waited patiently till Ian found the courage to continue speaking “I...I just feel so stupid. Vincent and Jas can read this stuff but I can’t even make it past the first page.”

Upon saying that, Ian burst into uncontrollable sobs. You put your arms around him and pulled him into a hug, letting him cry out the frustration. It was only when the tears seemed to cease that you spoke “Ian, these things take time. You’re not going to be able to pick up reading and spelling in a day.”

You pulled away from the hug and put both your hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. The tearful expression on his face almost made you weep as well but you stayed strong for him. You continued speaking “You’ll get the hang of it in time, I promise. You’re the most hardworking man I know and you are definitely not stupid. You’ll overcome this just like you’ve overcome everything else except now, I’ll be by your side helping you too. Alright?”

Ian nodded slightly and a smile finally lit up his handsome face. He looked down at the book still laid open on his lap for a moment before turning back to you, asking shyly “Will you please read with me? Only if you’re not still busy with the sprinklers.”

Jeric

Giving: Words of Affirmation

You’ll never feel insecure with this man around! He may throw around compliments like they cost nothing but you can be rest assured that he means every word of it when it comes to you. If ever there comes a time where you’re feeling a bit down and need a pick-me-up, Jeric will be there with a cup of your favourite drink and sweet words to go with it.

“Here you go, beautiful. Tell me what’s wrong now,” Jeric said as he settled down on the floor beside you, handing you a mug of hot chocolate. You accepted the mug from him and after a sip, explained that you sometimes went through periods of insecurity.

Jeric put an arm around your shoulders and squeezed you gently, planting a kiss on the top of your head. He said “Baby, you’re the most gorgeous person I have ever met. You’re kind, generous, beautiful - all the positive adjectives vocabulary has to offer. You have nothing to feel insecure about.”

You didn’t reply but had just rested your head against his chest, closing your tearful eyes.

As he held you in his arms, Jeric decided then that it was his mission to remind you every day how stunning you are until you began to believe it too.

Receiving: Quality Time

Jeric LOVES spending time with you. He’ll use any and all excuses to follow you around as you do your daily chores. If this is early on in your relationship, it’ll be because he wants to get to know you better (as mentioned in his dialogue in RSV’s NPC Adventures). If it is after you’ve been dating/married for a while, it’ll be because he misses you and just craves having your comforting presence around him. He tries to not appear clingy but internally, he would drop anything to be with you 24/7.

“Awww, what do you mean I can’t come with you?,” Jeric pouted as he watched you get your gear together for a trip to the Skull Caverns. You’d been planning this for the past week and Jeric had been constantly dropping hints that he wanted to join you ever since you brought it up.

You placed the last box of cherry bombs into your backpack and looked up at Jeric with an apologetic smile. “It’s too dangerous, baby. I’ll be back before you know it, okay?,” you said, leaning up to give him a quick kiss on his lips.

Jeric walked you to the bus stop and waved goodbye, trying not to show his disappointment. By the time the bus was out of view, Jeric had made up his mind. He’d go to the Adventurer’s Guild and ask Marlon there to train him to use a sword. Then, you’d have no reason not to let him go with you!

Shiro

Giving: Quality Time & Acts of Service

After all Shiro has been through, he has come to appreciate every minute that he gets to spend with his loved ones. Shiro cherishes the evenings he gets to spend with you even if you’re just curled up in front of the television under warm blankets or individually doing your own things in each other’s presence.

Shiro also shows his love by trying to be as useful as he can be despite his disabilities. If you cook dinner, Shiro will wash the dishes. If you put the laundry into the washing machine and dryer, Shiro will fold your clothes and put them neatly into their respective drawers. Teamwork is key in this relationship!

You were sitting on the couch, glancing in the direction of the kitchen every now and then. Shiro had insisted that you get some rest after a long day of farming while he put together some treats for you. He had been progressing well during his physical therapy sessions according to Phillip but it still didn’t stop you from watching out for him, just in case.

Shiro slowly walked out into the living room, carrying a tray that held a bowl of popcorn and two cups of hot chocolate. He laid the tray onto the table in front of the couch and sat down beside you, trying not to show any signs that the effort had tired him out. “Thank you, babe,” you said appreciatively, cuddling up to him and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s the least I can do for you when you work so hard every day,” Shiro said with a smile, kissing you gently on the lips. He put his arm around you and rested his cheek on the top of your head as you flipped through the channels on the television, relishing in the comfort you brought him just by being beside him.

Receiving: Words of Affirmation

Shiro is often concerned that you would get bored of being with him since he can’t do very much due to his disabilities. Whenever he worries about this, he starts to second-guess your relationship and wonders whether you would be better off dating someone else who would be able to give you experiences that he personally can’t until he recovers completely.

Shiro will genuinely appreciate it when you reassure him that that is not the case and you wouldn’t want to be with anyone else but him. He may need you to repeat it every once in a while but Shiro just wants to be sure that you’re happy.

“Y/N, are you...happy?,” Shiro had asked one morning while you two were having breakfast. You looked at him in surprise, wondering what had prompted him to ask such a question.

You put down your cutlery and reached across to take his hand into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Of course I’m happy, Shiro. I’ve got everything I could ever ask for - a loving husband, a beautiful home and a thriving farm. Why do you ask?,” you said with a questioning smile.

Shiro averted his gaze from you and said nervously “I just sometimes worry that you’ll get bored of me. You know, since I can’t do very much…” His cheeks were flushing a light pink and you could hear the slight tremble in his voice as he spoke.

You gently rubbed the top of his hand with your thumb as you said assertively, making sure he was looking at you “Shiro, look at me. You are the one and only man I have ever and will ever love. I could never become bored of you. Okay?”

Shiro nodded with a small smile and you knew that while appeased for now, he still had doubts in his mind. But you didn’t mind. You would reassure him over and over again if Shiro needed you to because you loved him with all of your heart.

Kenneth

Giving: Acts of Service

Kenneth will insist on coming up with some sort of machine that will help you to fully automate the farming process, from watering to harvesting. While he works on that though, Kenneth will do his best to help you with little chores around the farm even though he’s not familiar with this area. At the end of the day, he just wants to help reduce your workload so you won’t have to be so stressed.

“Come to bed, honey. That can surely wait for tomorrow?,” you said as you wrapped your arms around Kenneth from behind. He had been working all day in his study, trying to finish his automated harvesting machine. It was the start of Fall tomorrow and he wanted it to be ready by then.

Kenneth looked up with a tired smile and said “I just want this done in time for tomorrow. I’m really close this time, I can feel it!” The two of you never brought it up after it had happened but the last time, his machine had almost burned down the crops after exploding nearby. You were remaining optimistic that Kenneth would figure it out eventually however.

“The seeds will literally only be going into the ground tomorrow, love. Harvesting won’t be for another couple weeks or so. You have plenty of time,” you assured him. That didn’t seem to persuade Kenneth so you had to resort to your final move. You slyly whispered into his ear “How would you like to help me by planting a different kind of seed tonight?”

Kenneth’s face flushed a deep red and he cleared his throat, saying as he hurriedly shoved his tools away into their respective places on his desk “W-Well, you know I always love to help!”

Receiving: Physical Touch

Living on his own on the outskirts of Ridgeside Village with not many people he would call a close friend, it’s not surprising that Kenneth is absolutely touch-starved. He will come up with a plethora of excuses to touch you throughout the day, and Yoba forbid you try to leave the bed in the mornings before Kenneth has had his fill of cuddles. Feeling you in his arms just makes his relationship with you feel more real (he constantly wonders how he got so lucky to be with you) and you fill him with a sense of comfort that he would otherwise only find while working on his projects.

"Mmm...five more minutes," Kenneth mumbled sleepily as he wrapped his arms around your waist. The alarm clock had rung about ten minutes ago and you knew you had to get ready for the day as it was the day of a new season but Kenneth was being especially clingy that morning - which you didn't mind at all.

You twisted your head around to give him a kiss and whispered "I've gotta go to Pierre's for some seeds today, honey. There'll be time for cuddles later, I promise." Kenneth made a whining sound and refused to release you from his arms.

He mumbled again, kissing you gently on your bare shoulder "Just five minutes, please?" You couldn't help a smile from forming on your lips. How could you resist giving in to him when Kenneth was being so darn cute?

Farming would just have to wait.

Phillip

Giving: Gift Giving

There is nothing more that brings Phillip pleasure than seeing the bright smile on your face when he gives you a gift, whether it’s a massage to soothe your sore limbs or a delicious meal at Pika’s restaurant. If you’re just as into comic books and action figures as he is, Phillip will also lavish you with monthly comic book subscriptions (which he will definitely not partake in as well).

You woke up that morning to the sound of cardboard being ripped apart. You put on your warm slippers and padded to the kitchen where you found Phillip sitting on the floor while poring over a comic book, surrounded by ripped cardboard and bubble wrap.

Upon hearing your footsteps, Phillip looked up with a smile and said “Good morning, Y/N! The new comics just came in, your box is on the table there.”

You picked up the box and found that it had already been opened. You turned to look at your husband with a raised eyebrow and he grinned sheepishly, saying “I may have already had a peek, sorry…”

Receiving: Quality Time

Phillip doesn’t get much down time in between visiting his patients every day and then meeting up with Harvey to help him out with the clinic every now and then. That is why he holds every moment he gets to spend with you dear to his heart and greatly appreciates it whenever you take time from working on the farm to be with him on his breaks.

“Can you believe the cliffhanger they left us on?!,” Phillip groaned in annoyance as he placed the comic book on the grass beside him, resting his head on your shoulder. You two were sitting on the lawn in front of the Log Cabin Hotel, Phillip having had an hour to spare in between seeing his patients.

He’d called you earlier that morning, asking if you wanted to come over and read the latest issue of Incrediman with him and you, being the best girlfriend ever, had agreed to take some time off from farming to be with him.

“Thank you for coming up here to see me...I’ve missed you,” Phillip said, turning to you with a shy smile. He slipped his hand into yours and wished that moments like this didn’t have to be so rare. The two of you were just so busy all the time, sometimes the only time you got to see each other was at night when Phillip stayed over at your farm. But even then, you were both so tired that you would just go to bed.

You hesitated before asking “Maybe it’s time for us to move in together?” Before Phillip could answer, you pulled out something from your pocket and put it into the palm of his hand. It was a Mermaid’s Pendant - even Phillip who had not lived in Stardew Valley for long knew the significance of that pendant.

“Will you marry me, Phillip?”

#stardew valley #ridgeside village #rsv #ridgeside village headcanons #stardew valley headcanons #rsv shiro #rsv ian #rsv jeric #rsv phillip #rsv kenneth

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sixeyesgojo · 3 years

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jjk characters handling your period

Summary: “What do you mean, no baby this month either? Okay, suffer then.” - your damn uterus

Pairings: Gojo/Megumi/Nanami/Naoya/Toji x Reader

Content warning: the monthly bloody nightmare your uterus puts you through and the whole shebang that comes with it, language warning, suggestive themes, explicit warning for Toji (you’ll see why)

A/N: purely self-indulgent because I suffer. @megumifushi and @sukirichi , my gals, I gotcha. Also dedicated to all readers who suffer from the same fate (may it be right now or not). Also: Yes, absolutely open the video I linked in Megumi’s part (it’s safe, I promise).

Gojo Satoru

You turn and turn in bed uncomfortably. Something isn’t right, you think and it’s not the fact that Satoru is missing next to you. Not knowing immediately irritates you. All of a sudden you become painfully aware of your lower region. Yes, of course it had to be that time of the month. You just knew you already stained your panties and perhaps the sheets haven’t been spared either. Getting out of bed, then realizing it was already past noon, you sprinted to the bathroom. Fuck, moving fast was not a good idea.

Having changed the sheets and your stained panties, you made your way to the kitchen. Your stomach growled, signaling you were hungry, but at the same time you feared. Smelling food, let alone tasting too much of it, was a slippery slope – either your nose would protest or your stomach, no in-between. Regardless, you had to eat; or were you supposed to starve to death because of this? Not in this lifetime. “I AM BACK!” an annoyingly loud voice rang through the apartment. You groan and turn around. “Fuck off, Satoru,” you say. Your irritation flaring up for seemingly no reason. “Stop being so motherfucking loud. My head feels like it’s going to split in two and my pussy is fighting the crimson war right now,” you snarled at him.

“Oh honey, seems like I called the right shots then,” he declared proudly and held up a bag filled with... snacks? “I already called in sick for you for the next few days,” Satoru continued to explain as he wrapped his arms around you, “and I’ll be by your side 24/7 for the next two days. We’ll do fun stuff. How does movie night with lots of cuddling for tonight sound?”

“Why are you so nice to me right now?” you mumbled, tears welling up in your eyes. “Simple: I don’t want to be castrated by you,” he whispered back and planted a kiss on your cheek. “Fair enough. What will we do tomorrow?” He stayed silent but pulled out a black card out of his sleeve. You gasped.

Fushiguro Megumi

Ping. A notification. Quickly, you scrambled to get your phone to see what that was about. You desperately needed some distraction right now. The pain was too much. Your boyfriend Megumi had gone somewhere you didn’t know. All you knew was that your boobs were sore, the sensitive nipples rubbing against the fabric were already too much. In addition to that, you also experienced period cramps, resulting in back pain as well. Life was not easy at the moment but at least you could lay in bed for today, doing absolutely nothing.

Unlocking your phone, you saw a new message from Yuji: “omg look at this???” [Video link] It was a video of 42 seconds. There was a cute seal – probably the cutest and fluffiest seal you have ever seen – and background music. It may have only lasted 42 seconds but it definitely triggered some happy feelings inside you; it was so pure and you loved the energy of the clip. Perhaps these feelings were a bit too intense and overwhelming. Tears streamed down your face and you started sobbing uncontrollably. Why were you like this? It wasn’t even a sad video, was it?

You buried your face in the blankets, weeping as if someone just broke up with you. Through your loud crying, you did not notice the door opening. A jangling noise could be heard from your nightstand. Instantly, you shot up to check for intruders but luckily, it was Megumi. A frown spread on his face. “What happened?” he asked as his thumbs wiped your tears from your cheeks. You showed him the video, still sobbing, “Look at the seal... It’s so c-cute. I just... got emotional because it really t-traveled the world. This cutie deserves the whole world...”

“And so do you,” he bluntly stated, “now take the ibuprofen I brought you for the cramps and rest up.” As a matter of fact, he not only brought you painkillers but a hot water bottle and food as well.

Nanami Kento

“No, give me that. Lay down and rest. I can dust off the shelves on my own,” his deep voice commanded. If there was a man that screamed “male wife” it was definitely Nanami Kento, particularly when it came to you being on your period. You weren’t allowed to do anything in the house, except for very light chores. With good reason. “Kento, I can do–” Yeah, no, it wasn’t possible and Kento knew it too well.

You weren’t lucky when it came to period symptoms. Besides excruciating back pain, extremely sore breasts and headaches, you also had the luck to suffer from dizziness every single time you experienced the monthly nuisance. The first time you even passed out. In fact, it had happened several times. And that was precisely how Kento decided to not let you do anything. Still, you felt bad to leave everything to Kento. His work already demanded so much from him and here you were, being babied and even spoon-fed. You didn’t even have to cook your own meals or wash and iron laundry.

You had barely said those words when the unwelcome whirling sensation took you over again. Your feet wobbled, you were in danger of crashing to the ground. In a flash, Kento was by your side to steady you. “I told you not to overdo it.” He cupped your cheek with his warm hand. “Sorry, Kento. I’ll... just rest for a minute.”

Zenin Naoya

Period pain? Laughable. Naoya thought it was pathetic. A woman – these already weak creatures – having period symptoms was a mystery to him. What could possibly hurt about bleeding a little? He couldn’t understand. Your pitiable and sorry state was only another inconvenience to him. Not that you hindered him in any way – you were obedient enough to be quiet and complain as little as possible – but he absolutely despised seeing that annoying expression of pain on your face every time he had to look at it.

Hell, he didn’t even want to engage in sexual activities with you during that time, even though he had randomly picked up somewhere that it might help. Not that he wanted to help you, it was your problem and yours only, not his. “Stop looking at me with those eyes. It’s disgusting,” he remarked condescendingly as he got dressed for wherever he had to go. “When will you be back?” you croaked out but he totally ignored you.

“Women are so damn weak. It’s so fucking pathetic, I almost want to give you a hug,” Naoya gagged. He was about to leave the room but stopped in his tracks. Looking over his shoulder, he caught a glimpse of your face that was contorted with pain. In long strides, he made it to one of the cabinets, fished out a tiny box and threw it on the bed. “Tsk, you better get well soon so you can serve me again, dumb bitch.”

Fushiguro Toji (soft)

Work hadn’t been treating him kindly: not yesterday, not today, not ever. Although he was highly capable and never failed to exceed himself, all Toji truly wanted to do was to go home. When he finally made it through the door, he called out, “Am home.” Usually, you would come running to greet him but when nothing but silence greeted him, his hand instantly moved to the cursed creature lingering on his shoulder. It was suspicious. Did enemies manage to find this hideout? Where were you? His hands started sweating.

Stealthily, he approached the kitchen. To his surprise, he saw your form in front of the counter, hunched over in pain. Dropping his offensive stance immediately, he quickly strode over to check on you. “Hey, what are you doing there?” he asked, hesitatingly putting a hand on your shoulder. You looked at him, grimacing with pain, “Oh, Toji. I didn’t realize you were home yet. Sorry, I’m not done cooking dinner yet, I just feel so nauseous, exhausted and my entire back and shoulders hurt so much. It’s so sore.” “I see.” He nodded, understanding what was happening. Suddenly, he lifted you effortlessly. You squealed, “Toji!! What are you doing?!” “Taking care of you,” he promised. “But dinner!” “Don’t care.”

Making his way to the bedroom, Toji laid down with you on top of him. Something about his warmth already made you feel better but as his large palms rubbed your back in circular motions, you felt as if you were in heaven. Toji’s ministrations soothed the pain so well, you almost let out a moan. Now that the pain didn’t overshadow all the other symptoms anymore, the drowsiness took over. “Toji, ‘m tired,” you mumbled; eyelids fluttering already. “Then sleep. I’ll take care of dinner later,” he whispered. You only hummed in response, already far too gone. Slowly but surely, his steady heartbeat lulled you to sleep. “Sleep tight.”

Taglist: @megumifushi @gojos-mochi @assbuttbaek @bleueluna

#gojo x reader #megumi x reader #nanami x reader #naoya x reader #toji x reader #gojo satoru #fushiguro megumi #nanami kento #zenin naoya #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen naoya #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #tw: period talk #tw: periods #tw: menstruation

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pleasantanathema · 3 years

Text

A Little Taste

Pairing: Step-dad Erwin x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Pseudo incest (step-dad/step-daughter), Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Fingering, Choking (on fingers and hand around throat), Secret Relationship

A/N: This is what Erwin brain rot and a too-long shower leads to. Please heed the warnings.

Erwin was a commander in every sense, you could feel it in his stride, in the way he held himself, so real and full against the border of his composure. He was golden, muted power, even in the moments of silence you spent together— drinking in his study when you visited home for Christmas break, sitting in the breakfast nook in the early morning light as he read the paper and you perused books without actually reading them.

Sometimes it made you sick to your stomach that you couldn’t stop staring, couldn’t stop thinking about your step-dad, but other times it brought you a silent thrill, made your chest burn with excitement, especially when you caught him looking back at you. Brilliant blue eyes were always waiting for your first move. That’s how the game worked. The initiating step had to be made by you; you had to show your willingness, your need for him, then he would take over.

He was always so calm and in control, someone who changed the atmosphere whenever he drew near. But whenever you moved closer, you could see the softness in his eyes, felt the quietness between his fingers as they wrapped around your throat. He was a gentle lion, shy and soundless before the press of your lips would stir and rouse him into something more dangerous.

You could still remember the first time you fucked him.

Alone in his study, your mom hundreds of miles away on an impromptu business trip, and you asked him for a sip of the dark, amber colored liquor that sloshed in his glass. You immodestly draped yourself on his knee, short dress pooling around your hips to expose smooth thighs. He was eager to appease you, full lips curving into a smirk at your boldness.

His long, thick fingers dipped into the drink, coating them in the expensive whiskey.

“Have a taste.”

He slipped his digits into your awaiting mouth, eyes watching your every move as you sucked the burning alcohol from his skin. He pressed down against your tongue, groaned as you swallowed around him and your heated lips slid along his knuckles.

You thought it would be simple, just a little taste of something you weren’t supposed to have.

But simplicity wasn’t enough for your selfish step-father.

He placed his spit-slick fingers between your legs, pulling you deeper into his lap as pushed your panties to the side and curled his fingers inside you.

“You’ve always been such a good girl,” your hands were sinking into his blonde undercut as you whimpered for him, “you always do exactly as you’re told, don’t you? I raised you that way.”

He wasn’t wrong. He came into your life your first year of college, sweeping your mother off her feet with his handsome features and the promising wallet of a high-rise CEO. You weren’t beyond the age of raising, however, and Erwin took his time teaching you how to behave for formal dinners, took his time teaching you how to be the perfect little lady with etiquette books and trips to lavish department stores.

“Yes, daddy,” you whispered. He used to hate when you called him that, said it made you sound childish. But as his other hand wrapped around your throat, keeping your chin tilted toward his face so he could watch you come undone, you could feel his cock hardening at the moniker.

“You look so pretty like this, darling, take my fingers so well,” he knew you liked the praise, could feel your pulse pounding against his palm at the words.

“I-I want you…” you mewled when his strong thumb began to circle your wet clit.

“Want me to do what? Use your words like I taught you.”

You were rocking in his lap, pressing yourself down his hand as you chased your high. Slick was running down your thighs. The noises were lewd, wet, the sound of fingers plunging into a too-willing cunt.

“Want you to fuck me, wanna feel you inside me.”

Your hands were trailing down his chest, fingertips stumbling as you pulled at the buttons of his dress shirt.

“You can have me if you can take me.”

You realized what he meant when he leaned back in the leather chair, allowing you to unbuckle his belt and pull his cock from his slacks. His cock was fat, long, hot blood thumping beneath silken skin and thick veins. It was pretty, weeping with pre-cum and flushed pink at the flared tip. You couldn’t help but to touch him, moaning as the fingers inside of you suddenly didn’t feel like enough.

It dawned on you that he was just as needy for you as you were him.

Erwin pulled his hand from between you drenched thighs as you straddled him, bringing his sticky fingers back to your lips. You took them in, tongue lapping at the bittersweet taste of you on your daddy’s fingers.

“How’s that taste?”

You closed your eyes as he greedily pressed his fingers down your throat.

“ ‘s good,” you murmured with your stuffed mouth, lips closing tighter as his cockhead brushed between your slick folds.

“Keep them in there and keep quiet. Can’t have the whole neighborhood hearing you scream for me.”

Heat raced to your cheeks at his words and at the burn of his cock pressing into you. Your walls were tight around him, his pumping veins molding to your insides. One of your hands pressed against his exposed chest for balance as he started to thrust, your panties softly cutting into the fat of your thighs as he spread you. You were still slipping down his cock, body unsure if it could take all of his length. But, of course, you were a good girl for him, eventually taking every inch of him in so he could bottom out inside of you.

You weren’t sure how long you were moaning around his fingers, lingering notes of slick and whiskey painting your tongue. Time was inconsequential as he took you, other hand secured at your hip so he could bounce and move you how he wanted.

It felt so good to be used by him, to hear him grunting below you, to feel the sheen of sweat building on his chest.

“So good,” he groaned, “so fucking good for me.”

His balls were slapping against your tender ass cheeks, his damp slacks sliding against your thighs, the blonde curls at the base of his cock kissing against your swollen clit.

You wanted to remember this moment forever, wanted it to burn and sear against your thoughts like a polaroid in a dark room.

“Daddy,” the name was a muffled sound in your mouth, reverberating down his fingers and forearm.

“Daddy’s gonna cum inside you, darling,” your lashes fluttered open at his confession, and your chest tightened at the sight of his normally perfect hair falling against his forehead, his cheekbones stained pink with lust. He was as undone as you were, his jaw flexing and eyebrows pressed together as he took what he wanted from your body.

“Please,” you begged, spit drooling from the sides of your mouth as you moaned uncontrollably with every plunge of his cock spreading your pussy apart, “pleasepleaseplease.”

He knew what you were pleading for. You wanted to cum with him, didn’t want to be left behind as you both barreled down the path of no return.

Erwin slowly broke you apart as he swirled his thumb over your clit, a purposeful, brutish pace that matched the cock skimming along your gummy walls. But he was becoming just as unhinged as your cunt sucked him in more and more, your belly clenching as you got pulled closer and closer to ecstasy.

“Come on, cream on my cock, baby, cum for me, cum for daddy.”

You almost gagged yourself on his fingers as your head fell forward from the forcefulness of your orgasm. You screamed around his skin, felt his knuckles against your teeth as you held back tears. It all felt too hot, too fast, like he’d stretched you like a rubber band and snapped you back together. Your belly was tensing over and over again, shocks of pleasure racing down to your toes, making your fingers curl against the downy hairs of his chest.

Erwin came soon after you, holding a growl back in his throat as he buried his seed into your depths. Some part of you hoped that he came just from seeing what he’d done to you. You dreamed that he reached the point of euphoria just from watching you cum, watching you cry and shake for your daddy in his lap, his cock stuffed so deep in your pussy that he could feel your heart beating.

When he pulled out of you, he quickly pushed your panties back into place, two fingers patting against your abused clit.

“Don’t lose a drop of my cum, darling. I want to feel it inside you next time I fuck you.”

That first fuck was just the first move, just the first taste.

Every time you visited home from college, Erwin found a way to take you. Some nights were quick and hasty, the two of you fighting against time so you wouldn’t be caught. Asking you to help him find something in his car, only to have you back in his lap with his massive hand over your mouth. Following you after you said goodnight, only to press you against the shower wall and have you praying that the heavy sound of water against the tiles covered the sounds of you whimpering for your daddy.

There was a time he was bold enough to slide his hand up your skirt at a family dinner after you playfully pulled at his pant leg under the table. Your moans bubbled into the wine glass that you nursed, thighs clenching around his wrist.

Erwin was relentless whenever you released him, whenever you made that first step and teased him, asked him for more cum, touched him when no one was looking.

Your favorite moments were when you could find him alone, run your hot tongue along the shell of his ear and tell him how good you’ve been for him. How you think of him when you’re away from him, how you imagine that your hands are his when you touch yourself during the witching hours of night. Sometimes he would strip you and lay you naked across his desk so you could show him exactly how you make yourself scream when you’re alone.

Sometimes he would leave you with things to remember him by. He’d suck a bruise in the shape of his mouth on your breast, leave nail marks along your thighs, smack a scorching handprint into your ass cheek that you’d feel for days on end.

He once had you filled with shame as he pounded you into the bed he shared with your mother. With his back pressed against yours, his hand back around your throat where it belonged, he whispered promises that couldn’t be kept.

“I’m yours, darling, just like you’re mine.”

Your ears burned with the vows as your pussy spread to take him in deeper, harder.

“I’ll fuck you even after you get married, my little girl will always be mine.”

Affirmations would tumble out your open mouth, little whines of yes daddy and I’m yours.

But you knew one day the game would end. Someone would find the pieces, someone would hear you, see you, catch you, but the thrill of it had you cumming even harder whenever daddy decided to play with you.

#erwin smut #erwin x reader #tw:incest #erwin smith #Erwin Smith x reader #erwin x you #aot fanfic #aot erwin #aot fanfiction #snk #snk erwin #snk fanfic #snk fanfiction

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damn-stark · 3 years

Text

Ch.18: Were it not for you

Chapter 18 of Cherry

A/N: Did I tear a bit at the end? Yes. Yes I did.

Warning- Angst, LONG CHAPTER! talks of grief and death, Fluff!, swearing, slowburn.

Pairing- Jean Kirstein x reader

Episodes- 3x56-3x59

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

A gentle knock on the wedged door echoes out the hall and to the vacant streets of Shiganshina. The gentle rhythmic tap also travels within the room concealed behind the slightly broken wedged door.

There was actually no privacy to maintain within the room, but you still knocked out of courtesy, in hopes you’d hear Levi’s okay to walk in, but silence followed after your knock. Regardless of the silence, and the knowledge that he’s reminded you that you didn’t have to knock when you looked for him, you waited and knocked again. Yet the silence was consistent, letting you finally make your move to push the door open.

When the door stopped creaking as the knob tapped the wall, there Levi stood, watching Erwin’s corpse with a glossy empty stare. He didn’t even acknowledge you walk in, it was as if he wasn’t even in this room. You tried calling his name to gain his attention, but he still wouldn’t even blink. The only way you broke him from his stupor was when you grabbed his shoulder.

“Levi.”

Finally dull blue eyes briefly meet your gaze, before he looks to the floor and steps away from the bed Erwin was on. He still remained silent, and you didn’t have the heart to comment on anything in regards to what you walked into, so all you do is place the wild white lilies you found nearby in the vase by the bed.

While you’re beside the bed albeit, your eyes couldn’t help but glance at Erwin’s uncovered face, causing you to feel another wave of deep anguish slam into your chest that makes it feel heavier. Now you’re the one who can’t find themselves being able to move from their spot as you stare at Erwin’s pale face. The tears that pool in your eyes want to come out, but you quickly force yourself to break from the stupor that wanted to hold you captive to step forward and pull the cloak's hood over Erwin’s face. Doing so, finally let Levi break the silence.

“Are you okay? You don’t seem to be badly injured, but I know how you are.”

You blink to look away from Erwin and glance down to the spot where the pain was throbbing on your body. You think of lying so he wouldn't worry or possibly be overbearing, but lying wouldn’t serve you any good, he’d find out regardless. So you just answer him honestly. “If an infection doesn’t set in, then I’ll be fine.” You slowly turn to face a piercing glare. “Uh, I got hurt, but Hange took care of me. I’ll be fine if I’m careful. How about you?”

Levi sighs and steps back whilst he drops his gaze once again. “I’m fine. Really. Just mad that the bastard got away.”

Silence followed suit of his response, letting your eyes focus on the dust particles that danced inside the sun beam that reflected through the glass window. Usually when you were in the comforts of your room, or Levi’s, and it was silent just like now, you did enjoy watching the sunbeam bounce on your fingers out of pure, and genuine admiration over something so “simple” as the sun reflecting in a room. However today, you could hardly acknowledge it as you noticed how hard Levi tried to ignore the sorrow felt deep within his heart, and clearly and deeply expressed on your face.

“It’s good that you’re okay, it would’ve…” he pauses and exhales as his eyes flicker up to look at yours. “…been messy if you weren’t.”

“Meaning?” You probe cheekily. “You would’ve been completely distraught? Like uncontrollably weeping over me?” You quirk your brow. “Or like you would’ve used the injection on me?”

“In a heartbeat.”

The smirk on your lips fades away alongside the amusement you felt with your teasing comments. “It would've been wrong.” You mutter seriously.

Levi shrugs. “I wouldn't have cared.”

“I wouldn't have wanted you to do it. Not with how the situation was.”

“Sometimes being selfish isn’t wrong. Especially not when it comes to keeping you alive.”

Your lips part to shoot an immediate answer, but your words get stuck to the back of your throat. Silence returns to the room again, this time though, with a much heavier tension, and longer than the previous moment of silence. You actually couldn’t even find what to say until you turned away from him. “Do you regret the choice you made?”

The heels of his boots click on the wooden panels as he approaches you from behind to answer bluntly. “No.”

“Hmm.” Your eyes flicker to the side to look at him already looking at you. You could tell that he wanted to add more to your previous conversation, but you didn’t want to dwell on something that wasn’t going to happen anymore. “I got side tracked on what I was supposed to tell you, but…Armin should be awake soon if he’s not already up.”

“About time,” Levi huffs.

——

“Well?” Levi queried, “up to speed, Armin?”

Said boy's eyes were wide, struck with bewilderment. He sat in silence the whole time Eren and Mikasa caught him up on what happened. And throughout the entire explanation every reaction was seen expressed just in his eyes as clear as day. Armin could only seem to share what he thought now in an in disbelief state.

“Are you telling me…the Scout Regiment…is the ten of us here…and that’s it?”

“For the time being,” Jean confirmed. “The fighting ended four hours ago. We’ve been looking for survivors, but…none yet…”

Armin looks away from Jean and continues just the same. “S-so, we managed to seal the walls of Shiganshina…but Reiner, the Beast Titan and the other escaped…Bertholdt was captured…then there was a dispute about using the injection on Commander Erwin or me….and I…” he stammered profusely, “turned into a Titan and ate B-ertholdt…” he trails off and stays silent for a second before he begins to gag and cough. Everyone gathered around him watches him, some with concern, while others just wait for him to calm down. Jean albeit falls by his side and hands Armin a pouch of water, which he gladly accepts.

When he sets the pouch down, he begins breathing hard and still can’t seem to be convinced. Armin demands clarity from Levi for such a difficult choice, but as expected Levi wasn’t all that sweet, actually kicks Eren and begins to argue. “I told you to tell him everything. The thing is, it seems your two friends here didn’t think that way. They stood up to me…prepared to draw blood.”

“Huh?”

“We’ll take whatever punishment comes.” Eren assures Levi.

“You’ll be disciplined for insubordination,” Hange tells Mikasa and Eren, “but, does taking the punishment allow you to do anything?”

Eren’s head drops and he mutters, “no.”

“However,” Levi continues, “the final decision to choose was mine. No, I chose this to be the place where Erwin dies.”

His words roll off his tongue with ease, not a single hint of the same sorrow that you had barely caught on him back in the room expressed on his face. Then again he couldn’t afford looking sad or being vulnerable, who knows maybe he was so in private, when you also weren’t there. As of right now he remained nonchalant to assure Armin’s continuous doubts over the choice, and the fact that he was now in some ways Erwin’s replacement.

“Don’t get me wrong. You’ll never be Erwin’s replacement. But, I know you have a strength that nobody else has but you. I won’t regret my decision.” However,” he says as he grabs Mikasa and Eren’s heads. “Don’t make these guys regret it. Nor anyone else. And don’t regret it yourself, either. That is your mission.”

Armin answers with silence in his continuous bewildered state, but the silence doesn’t last long as it allows Sasha to begin groaning out loud before snapping her complaint. “Shut up!”

Your friends gasp at her reaction and you can’t help but snort, letting a faint smile play on your lips. Hange on the other hand begins to laugh before adding, “we’re no match for Sasha. Well, being the successor of Erwin as Commander of the Scouts, we’re kinda in the same boat. From here on out, we’ll have to grin and bear it. Right…Now then…” they close their eye and let out a deep exhale before standing up to continue. “If it’s not a problem for Armin, we should get going. Levi, Eren, Mikasa and I will go investigate. You other five keep watch from atop Shiganshina’s wall.”

“Roger.”

“Eren. Do you still have the key?”

Eren clutch’s said object hidden under his shirt and confirms their question, setting him and those meant to go with him off the wall and finally towards the basement. While you sat in wait with the other four though, you couldn’t help but let your eyes and mind wander to Armin.

“Armin.” Your eyes fall to the rag you damped as you begin to dab it on Sasha's face to keep her refreshed. “How does it feel to be back in your hometown?”

Said boy acknowledges your question by slightly shifting his head, but he still keeps his gaze on the city below where Eren and Mikasa had disappeared to.

“It feels…” he trails off and sighs. “Strange. It’s been five years. It all feels surreal, like I’m not meant to be here.”

Your hand stops and you look up at him to comfort him with bluntness. “But you are. The choice was made for a reason. You’re alive because you're meant to be.” You blink to look back down at Sasha's twitching face and continue gently dabbing her face with the wet rag. “You can’t sulk. There isn’t time for that. Embrace your second chance to make something grande out of it…” your lips tug to a faint smile as you feel a hint of pride. “Besides, don't you have a sea to discover?”

Armin shuffles around and even if you don’t see it he answers with a small, happy smile that brings forth a comfortable waiting silence.

The sun was beginning to lower, and the four that travelled to the basement wouldn’t return until dusk, bringing with them new mind blowing information.

Turns out that the sky was endless after all, the stars roamed way beyond what anyone's eyes could ever possibly see; to places far away, with more people than you could ever imagine, larger cities that were described to be more elegant and far more grand than the ones here. They brought new findings that you never ever thought existed. Such as the shiny portrait, Eren’s father called a picture.

It was truly amazing that people could be…drawn? Captured…so clearly. It made you wonder if you could ever be captured like that, in such a small piece of glossy and elegant paper. Seeing, admiring the photograph, felt like a dream, it opened your mind to new curiosities that ran wild in your mind. Your hunger to discover the world you once thought small grew far deeper. Now you were famished to learn a lot more than what your eye could possibly see. Yet you couldn’t help but feel sad as well. Learning that there was much more of this world made you wish that there were others here to share such amazing news with you.

Oh my beloved Marco. Furlan. And Isabel, the sky is truly beyond endless. I promise I’ll try to see it all—you smile at your hands grasping your reins before you throw your head back to watch the waking sky as you approach the wall. A couple birds fly overhead, over the wall, to Trost District, and you can’t help the grin that spreads on your lips. Even if you carried a heavy loss after the battle, that gloomy cloud was pushed to the back of your head. Right now, all you felt was happiness over what was discovered, you felt like that little girl in her first moments above ground again.

You relished in the feelings after such findings for the little while that you could because you knew it wouldn't last. Going past the wall, returning home would bring back that grief, it would set a new harsh truth also found within the books of Eren’s father. So you basked in the little happiness while you could.

——

“Here,” you smile warmly and let go of the three small boxes once Armin has them secured in his hands. “To make you all feel better. Or at least I hope they do.” You take a glimpse over his shoulder to see Mikasa sleeping away in her cell. “You should try going to a real bed Armin,” you suggest as your eyes slide back to him.

“It’s okay,” he assures you, “I can wait for them here. I don’t mind sleeping on a chair. Besides,” he smiles, “I think this care package should do the trick.”

You scoff lightheartedly and nod. “Hell yeah it will. I made sure to accommodate each box for your individual needs and likings.” You set your hands in your pockets and fall back to sit on a wooden chair set against the wall. “I’m truly a great friend that way.” You laugh at your own comment, but all too soon come to a stop as pain shoots from your stitched up wound.

“Are you okay?” Armin instantly asks in concern to your groan.

“Yeah,” you nod and clutch onto your side. “Damn wound hurts ever since it got stitched.”

“Have you,” Armin teases, “tried resting?” He sits back on his chair in between the cells and sets two boxes down to keep his own on his lap. “Your stitches are fresh, and Mikasa says that your wound is deep, you shouldn’t strain yourself. You’ll make—”

“Yeah, yeah,” you cut him off. “Levi has nagged me hundreds of times already. But I can’t,” you sigh and watch your hands slide out of your sweater pockets so you could begin fiddling with your fingers. “Learning that there is much more beyond the walls. That we’re not truly alone, and that we’re actually considered an “evil race of devils” leaves a lot to think about.”

Armin nods in agreement and his own eyes drop to his hands as a deep sigh leaves his lips before he speaks on your comments. “It seems you’re right. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that either…I mean I knew that Titans weren’t our only obstacle since well…the fight with your father, but the fact seems surreal now.”

“Hmm.”

“But,” he interjects in a much cheerful tone, “now that we know that more exists beyond the walls, means we have a lot more to explore. Right? I mean we can’t let that taint our excitement?”

Your eyes flicker up to him and a matching twinkle shines within your gaze, whilst a beaming smile begins to slowly grow on your lips. “You’re right….absolutely right. I mean,” you begin to muse. “We have to see the sea. The one Eren mentioned, the one talked about in the journals of Eren’s father?”

At the mention of the sea, Amrin’s eyes lit up with pure happiness, he leaned forward and began to add about things you had never heard about, places that also lay beyond the walls; fiery lakes and snowfields of sand. You listened. Of course you did. You consumed all his words with content, feeling like a couple of school children. Hours passed and once you could rip from your seat you realized you had forgotten to tell him that Historia was going to come to Trost.

Oh well, he and the other two will find out by someone else.

Which they did, literally the next day, when Hange and Levi went to release them from their holding cells to take them to Historia herself before the meeting with the council. Which in truth, you forgot all about until you ran into Mikasa, Eren, Armin, Levi, Jean and Historia, on your way to look for Hange and your mysterious letter.

“Hange—” you cut yourself off at the realization of the group behind her. “Oh.” You blink cluelessly. “What’s going on?”

“We're going to the meeting with the council,” Levi reminds you, setting off that bulb in your head.

“Right!” You exclaim with a nervous giggle, “well I’ll walk with you guys then.” You’re quick to fall at Historia’s side to try and catch up with her, but you’re interrupted rather quickly.

“You’re not going,” Levi deadpans.

Your eyebrows furrow and your pace slows down so you could walk around Hange and fall at his side to protest. “Huh? Why not?”

“You’re going to be resting. Trying to actually heal your wound. Too much walking will open up your stitches, then you’ll actually die.”

At his persistence in front of all your friends, your face begins to burn and your confidence dwindles. “I’ve been fine.” Your voice cracks, “I can’t skip the meeting.”

“Sure you can,” Jean also cuts in, “we'll give you the report after.”

You pout in frustration and you shoot a burning glare at Jean; who is unaffected by it. He’s actually smug since he knew Levi would agree—“Tsk. I’m not—”

“It’s an order,” Hange cuts you off, causing your annoyance to boil. “Sorry, Cherry. Your wound seems to be just as inflamed as the day it got stitched. So please just take it easy. Maybe keep Sasha company. Or…read your letter.”

You shoot your head up and lose all your anger to feel flustered and hotter, as if you were under a hot spotlight. Hange pulls out the metal case and tries to hand it to you with a weird expression painted on their face. “You know you never told me that you—”

Hastily before they could finish their sentence, you snatch the the case from their hand and cut them off. “We’re not talking about it.”

“What?” Hange’s voice squeaks. “Why not? You can trust me.” They raise their hands and smile. “I mean having feelings—”

You fall back from the group, even if they stop to watch you. “Stop!” You exclaim, “just—”

“Wait,” Historia chimes in curiously. “Who sent you something? Did Reiner send you a letter?” A smirk grows on her lips, and now a tension grows between the group and you.

“Yeah,” Jean pressed with a hint of jealousy that no one caught in his voice. “What does it say? We’re all curious to know.” He narrows his eyes on you and then looks at the case in your hand, making you feel much more flustered.

You try to ignore it and him by pretending you were fine and showing them a very feigned grin, not daring to look at Levi out of fear that he knew the contents of the letter. “I'll see you all later. Enjoy your meeting.” You begin to walk back towards the dorms and wave. “Goodbye.”

——

Reading the letter albeit was harder than expected. Not because of lack of concentration, but because you…feared what was written. What could have Reiner possibly wanted you to know? No matter how much you tried, your eyes wouldn't dare themselves to read each word, your mind didn’t want to learn any sentence.

What if the words hurt? What if they confused you no matter how much you knew that Reiner was in the past? No matter if you knew your feelings weren’t there anymore.

What if the words are spiteful? Which again brought back the fear that the words would hurt.

Yet, you’d never know if you didn’t read it. By the tell on Hange’s face it was something worthwhile.

I need to read it. Have to, for my own sake.

You flip the first paper over and slowly drop your eyes on the first letters, ignoring how the paper trembled in your hold.

“Dear y/n,

I can’t lie and say that I didn’t throw away dozens of papers with barely chicken scratch on the sheet to avoid writing to you. Yet I also don’t want to hide my truth, not from you, which is why—”

No. You can’t finish it. At least not yet. Perhaps after the ceremony. When you could find solitude in your room, hide under your sheets and cry or be angry without having to fear that someone would see you.

——

“Did you finish reading the report?” Jean asks while you filter into the grande hall.

You nod and slide your hands in your pockets, “yeah. But it’s not like there was much to read considering I knew it all beforehand.”

“And you wanted to go,” Jean huffs.

You both come to a stop with your friends at the side of the room, away from most of the crowd. “Well I’m glad I didn’t. Felt nice having some time to myself.”

“Hmm. Well you did miss Eren’s sudden outburst in the middle of the meeting.” Jean stifles his laugh and looks down to avoid looking at the boy he was talking about.

“Jean,” you scold, “don’t start anything right now please.”

Jean smiles softly and shakes his head. “I’m not. I’m just catching you up.”

“It’s not funny,” you try to say seriously as you fail to keep yourself from laughing. “Levi says he’s going through a phase.”

“You’re the one laughing.”

You cover your mouth and stifle your laugh that Jean only instigates more. “This is not a laughing matter y/n, stop thinking about how embarrassing that must’ve been for him. This is supposed to be serious.”

“You know Jean,” Eren interjects in a sharp whisper, causing you to suck in your breath and instantly cut off your laughter. “It’s not really proper to talk about people behind their backs.”

You play off your previous actions by scratching your nose and hiding your hands in your coat pockets, averting Eren’s glare and backing away from Jean as he explained your conversation. “I was just catching y/n up about yesterday’s…events.”

“I’m sorry Eren,” you interject sweetly. “I’ll shut him up. It’s difficult going through puberty, there's just so many phases one goes through. It’s not easy and we understand. Sorry.” You smile at him and turn away before you could catch his reaction, hearing Jean snort, but then hold himself back considering where you were. He tried to comment on it, but you cut him off knowing he’d just make things worse for you. Instead you focus on the first thing you catch. “Jean, your buttons are all wrong.”

Said guy looks down and groans. “I was in a hurry.” He moves his hands to try to undo them, but you instinctively reach for them first.

“Here, I’ll help you.”

He should’ve stepped back and pretended that you were being overbearing, said that it was embarrassing that you were quick to help him do something as simple as fixing the buttons on his coat, but he actually liked that you noticed something nobody else cared to point out. Besides he liked having an excuse to have you close to him and be able to look at you. However, whilst he was watching you help him, he felt a sudden itch on the side of his face, he scratched it to ease the feeling, but he found that the funny feeling was still there. Instead of trying to soothe the feeling, he turned his head and found that the feeling was sprouted by Levi’s glare burning into Jean.

The glare was piercing, and felt deadly. It’s as if the little man was actually burning Jean with the simple look. And it didn't take a genius to know as to why he was getting such a terrifying look. When Jean returned his gaze to the reason in front of him, he slapped your hand away and took a big step away from you as he grumbled his excuse. “I can do it. I’m not a child.”

“Tsk.” You wince and rub the back of your hand. “Okay. Sorry.” You take a step back yourself, but you don’t question his sudden change of behavior, or catch Levi’s lingering glare. Hitch then catches your eye and steals your attention before you could even try to notice a thing.

“Hey, you heroes of the walls.” She waves and her entrance receives the same surprised reactions.

“Hitch…you came?” Jean questions her presence.

“I just came to see you guys receive your medals,” she shares in such a casual manner.

“I see.” Jean then falls silent for a moment as he drops his head and takes a couple seconds to form words he thought would be of some comfort. “Marlo was…brave all the way till the end.”

“Yeah,” Hitch says quietly, her head dropping and her smile completely falling from her lips.

“Right Floch? Tell her.”

“Sure,” Floch complied, “Marlo Freudenberg was an urgent recruit, just like me. But he managed to bring us recruits together. The situation was hopeless and the Scouts were on the verge of ruin...”

Slowly your hands fall at your side and you put your full attention on Flochs surprising choice of words.

“…We thought all was lost and were stricken with fear. But he…Only he inspired us.”

“Yeah?” She queries.

“He was an amazing person.”

“I know. That’s why…that’s probably why he never listened to me.”

“But in the end,” Floch kept interjecting, “I’m sure he regretted being there.”

Tsk. What the hell.

Hitch stiffens and you manage to catch a small gasp escaping her lips. Of course she’s quick to play it off, and return to sounding as casual and cool as before to turn and walk off. “I’ll laugh if you screw up the ceremony.”

After she walked off, Jean turned to Floch and remarked angrily on his choice of words. “Hey! Why did you do that?”

“Because,” Floch retorted, “someone has to tell the truth.” His eyes slide to the corner to shoot a glare at Armin’s way.

“I know how desperate you were to revive Commander Erwin.” Armin steps forward.

“That’s right. It should have been the commander, not you,” Floch argued bitterly, much to everyone’s dismay and growing discomfort. “I’m not the only one who thinks that. We all do. Everyone who read that report thinks the same thing: why wasn’t Erwin the one picked?”

“What the hell do you know about Armin?” Eren snapped. “Tell me!”

“Nothing at all. I’m not his childhood friend, and we’re not chums, either. But I can still tell you why Armin was chosen. It’s because you two,” he points to Eren and Mikasa, “and Captain Levi brought your emotions into it. You thought the injection was all yours and made a totally irrational decision! Basically, it was too hard for you to let go of someone important.”

Eren proceeds to stomp towards Floch to shoot him an anger fueled warning. “Hey, you should shut your mouth.”

“Eren. Deep down inside, I bet you think you’re always in the right. That’s why you never gave up in the end.” Floch counters without fault. “Just like a brat that won’t listen.”

“Eren,” Mikasa says at his side, “just leave him alone.”

Flochs attention quickly shoots to your cousin. “Mikasa’s the one who behaved like an adult. At least she gave up at the end.” At the sound of Floch picking on Mikasa, you don’t hesitate to break away from the stun filled silence and part your lips to argue against him. Yet just as you were prepared to fight, Floch threw the first verbal punch, rendering you silent. “And you. I thought you’d be the one to act decent. But you’re not as honorable as you think you are.”

“Hey!” Jean quickly cuts him off and gets in the middle of Eren and Floch before they could think of doing anything. “What the hell's wrong with you two? Floch. Let’s not do this during a funeral for our fallen comrades, all right?”

“What’s done is done,” Connie cuts in, “so let’s just drop it.”

“And you guys…you didn’t stand up to your superiors.” Floch continued to spat. “You didn’t even stop Eren and Mikasa. All you could do was watch. Medals for what? A funeral for who? You guys better start telling the truth when you go to enlist more recruits. That way, you won’t get cowards like me joining by accident. What the hell are we supposed to do now without Erwin?! Because…even fodder like me…I get that I’m completely expendable, but…Even fodder like me…has a right to decide if it’s worth dying for!”

Everyone falls silent after. No one steps up to argue this time because everyone knew his words were nothing but true. It didn’t excuse him from having the outburst, but you couldn’t dare try to prove him wrong because he wasn’t. Surprisingly Armin commented on it. “Floch is right. Commander Erwin is the one who should've lived. I’m not the one who can turn this situation around.”

“How can you be so sure of that?” Eren tried to comfort Armin. “I really can’t say if it was the right decision or not. None of us know what the future holds. For starters, have you even seen beyond the walls? What is there beyond the walls?”

Armin breaks from the dark cloud that held him captive, and you catch his eyes light up as he lifts his head to whisper, “the sea.”

“That’s right. The sea. You haven’t seen it, right? None of us really know anything! Fiery water, lands of ice, sandy snowfields! The possibilities are endless out there! On the other side of the wall, freedom is—” Eren abruptly cuts himself off and his whole body visibly stiffens. The change in his demeanor was notable, but no one could try to question it before Levi cut in.

“Hey, brats. It’s time.” He points to the throne. “Line up.”

Pushing aside Eren’s sudden and odd cut off that had made him go rigid, everyone follows what Levi says. After that, while the ceremony went on and words were shared in regards to the events that each and everyone of you barely made out with your lives, it was easy to forget what had just happened. Floch’s words weren’t forgettable, but the moments after were. Especially as excitement began to bubble within you when you lined up to receive your first medal.

Waiting for your turn to come made you angsty, you couldn’t help but feel pride at yourself for having such an incredible honor. With a hand on your heart, all you could think about was how proud Furlan would be. It had been so long ago when you wished to join them in the expedition he wouldn't return from, everyday after that, you were fueled with hope to become a soldier like him to help humanity get rid of the monsters that had taken him from you. And now here you are, in front of the Queen, waiting to receive a medal for your efforts. You knew that the Scouts had suffered a heavy loss; you had lost Erwin, and Moblit. But it wasn’t wrong to relish in your pride.

However, while you waited for your moment to come, you noticed Eren suffer through the same rigid state as before. It was odd, he didn’t move a single muscle and Historia, herself, seemed stunned by his sudden reaction the moment after he kissed her knuckles. Someone should’ve followed up on him about it, but no one did, he even ignored it as if nothing had happened. But you should’ve. Someone should’ve. But it was all part of his “phase”, right?

*A MONTH LATER*

The room smelled of firewood, and herbs from the tea starting to boil on the stovetop. The light outside was beginning to dim now that the days became shorter, with it bringing an unwanted bitter cold every damn night as winter was around the corner. Luckily the fire eating up the wood in the fireplace provided a comforting warmth to the comfortable atmosphere around the round table.

“It’s good that you came Mikasa,” Levi finally spoke up after sitting in silence throughout his meal. “I know Cherry’s happy you did.”

“Well,” Mikasa muttered shyly, “you two are the only blood family I have. I wouldn't miss it.”

You smile from ear to ear with your cheeks filled with food.

“Do you guys do this all the time?” She questions as she twirls the food on her plate. “Eat alone together I mean?”

“Well,” Levi sighs, “it wasn’t always just the two of us. But yes, we try to eat together when we can. We haven’t done it in a while though.”

You swallow your food and lean in to add onto his comment. “You can join us now. If you want to, of course.” You pick up your spoon and scoop up some soup. “We don’t eat together all the time, but whenever we find time we like to do it.”

Mikasa smiles. “Thank you.” She doesn’t hold your gaze for long over how flustered she felt, instead she hid her eyes by looking at the food she was playing with. “Who made this? It’s very good.”

“Levi did,” you blurt with your mouth partially full of food. “He’s very good isn’t he? He used to cook all the time when we lived underground. No offense to Furlan,” you snicker, “but Levi was always the better cook.”

“Cherry, stop talking with your mouth full of food,” Levi scolds you as he stands up to get the pot off the stove.

Your eyebrows furrow and you scoff. “I’m not! I swallowed first!”

“That’s not what I saw.”

“I get excited,” you mumble.

Mikasa snickers as she continues playing with her food. Your eyes snap her way and just as you part your lips to shoot her a remark, Levi picks on her habit. “And you stop playing with your food.”

“I,” Mikasa utters, but then stops herself to sit up straight and quietly take another bite from her food.

“Actually,” Levi continues while he walks to Mikasa’s side to pour tea in her teacup. “I did want to talk about something with you two.” He walks around the table to come to your side and fill your teacup, before returning to his seat in silence and pouring his own cup. His silence proceeds after that, and he takes his time to relieve your curiosity as he sits down and takes a long sip of his tea first.

When he does set his teacup down, he firstly meets your eyes for a second before his eyes flicker back to his cup to finally continue. “You girls are older now.” He clears his throat and you start losing the curiosity that once burned bright. “Which means that you have new urges.”

You instantly choke from the shock his words left you in. Levi ignores your reaction and misses the look you share with Mikasa as he averts his gaze and exhales to continue with an ease that feels practiced. “I know that no one can keep you from having feelings. It’s only natural to like someone.” His grip tightens around the rim of his teacup and he finally has enough courage to briefly meet your widened gaze, and Mikasa’s unreadable expression. “And with that I do want you girls to know that even if I'm older and a man, that you can feel comfortable coming to me with anything. Cherry knows that. I want you to know that too, Mikasa.”

“Oh,” she whispers, “okay. Thank you”

A deep exhale unfurls from your lungs, and after you try to alleviate your dry throat that didn’t seem to feel better no matter how much tea you drank, you manage to offer Levi a small smile now that you recuperated from your disbelief. And you didn’t feel that way because Levi somehow made things awkward, and it was weird that he was bringing this up. Because the truth was that when it came to having heavy talks with you, he never shied away from them, he was the one who read up on what happened to girls when undergoing puberty, and he wanted to be the one who talked to you about it. Even if some topics weren’t always so comfortable to talk about he did.

“Actually,” Mikasa broke the silence, “y/n, don’t you like someone?”

Once again your eyelids peel back as you’re hit with another wave of surprise. This time though you couldn’t pick yourself up so easily, or really at all. No matter how comfortable you were with Levi, gossiping about a crush was something off the table. It was something you talked to with Sasha, or Mikasa. If Marco were here, he’d be one of those people too, but it was only a topic talked to amongst friends. It’d be weird giggling over some guy with Levi. The one and only way you’d bring a boy up is if you were pursuing something truly serious.

Which is why you didn’t talk to him about Jean. No matter how much you felt for him, you wouldn’t try to pursue anything yet...or at all. Levi never even knew about Reiner, and something had sparked between you two—but maybe that’s due to the fact that his secrets were revealed.

“Really?” Levi probes through his frustration, and even if he knew it wasn’t him, he dared to ask in some hope it was, “is it Armin?”

“What?!” You exclaim with a nervous laugh. “No. No!”

“He’s a nice guy.”

“No it’s not Armin,” you insist whilst shooting Mikasa a glare as she snickered to her cup. “It's no one. Mikasa,” you kick her shin, “is just being funny.”

Levi peers at Mikasa grinning at the table, and hums when noticing her reaction. He doesn’t stay quiet though, he continues to poke the subject. “Hange told me about the letter. I didn’t read it and I didn’t let her tell me about it. But was it him?”

You swallow thickly and lose all sort of uneasiness as you begin to feel more upset. “No….it’s nothing to worry about.” You meet Levi’s gaze and offer him an assuring smile.

“Okay,” Levi nods in comprehension.

Rather than dropping the subject, you smirk and shoot Mikasa a mischievous look as you pull her down with you. “Can we talk about who Mikasa likes though, hmm?”

Levi smirks and lifts his teacup. “Oh I know all about him.”

Mikasa loses all amusement and glares at the both of you, but she’s hasty to drop the subject unlike you. The rest of your time together is filled with small talk. At first the dinner was kind of awkward considering Levi and you were welcoming Mikasa for the first time, but throughout the evening, everything flowed easily, as if the three of you had done this before. It felt nice choosing to have dinner, especially after everything that happened. It was nice seeing Levi smile, and hearing Mikasa share a laugh. The dinner was very much needed, and it’s a moment you’d cherish and look forward to having again.

However, It was the time after the dinner that was difficult, because of the reminder of the letter that you possessed. You couldn’t seem to let it go, your mind was overrun with the curiosity of what lay beyond the words you read a month ago. There was no more avoiding it. You needed to read it.

Dear y/n,

I’m sorry. I'm sorry that you had to find out about who I truly was the way that you did, when I close my eyes I can still see your distraught face. It haunts me. I'm sorry that it hurt, you’re a gentle person, you’re sensitive, which is why you didn’t deserve such a blunt revelation, or the things I did to you.

But if I had told you any other way, would you have understood? Would you have listened without getting mad?

Nevertheless, it’s done and I’m sorry.

Now can I tell you about how much I hate you. I hate that you ever saw me as a person, back home people looked at me with hatred and disgust because I was simply born. Here, you were one of the many people that didn’t. You looked at me differently, you always looked at me with kindness, with gentle affection. A look at you and I felt assured.

Yet that doesn’t take from the fact that I hate that I harboured feelings for a paradis devil. I hate that you still make me feel that way, I really do, it’s one of the cruelest things that you have done to me.

But I can’t tell you that I regret every falling for you in the way that I have. Because it’s true y/n, I love you. I love you. I love the way you look at the world, the way you love the earth and humanity. I love your thoughts on the world. And all I wish is for you to get all that you may want from this damn world, I hope you see all the precious things the world has to offer. But I do have to tell you that none of them would ever compare to how precious you are.

With that said, I hope that I see you again. Someday. For now I’ll have to wonder if we had lived different lives, if I had chosen a different path that day, or been born a different man, would you have fallen in love with me as I fell in love with you?

Goodbye my precious y/n. Know that when I look at the stars, I’ll think of you.

Reiner.

The letter trembles in your hand, and your eyes unfocus from the white sheet of parchment. You imagined that you’d cry during or after reading the letter, but your eyes were dry—but maybe that’s because the cold air dried your eyes and blew away the possibility of you crying. All that you did feel was completely taken back over the letter you had just finished reading. You didn’t catch yourself angry, or overwhelmed with sadness, but you did catch yourself dumbfounded.

Now you understood why Hange was so weird over the letter. Why they looked at you so weirdly the couple days after they gave it to you, and why they insisted on talking over your past about Reiner, and any potential crushes you could have at the moment. Because of this letter.

What can you do with it now though? The truth was that it did hurt, you could start feeling the pings of pain in your heart as your mind processed his spiteful words that were then contradicted. So what could you do with it? Let the night breeze blow it away, or let the trash consume it?

No. That wouldn't be right. Hmm.

“Y/N.”

You crumble the letter under your hold, and tuck it under your coat to then shift your feet to see Eren walking towards you. “Eren?”

“What are you doing out here? It’s cold.”

You smile. “I could ask the same to you.”

Said boy shrugs and falls close beside you to try and preserve the warmth around where you stood. “I saw you out here and I got curious. Considering you’re alone.”

A scoff leaves your lips and you blink to look away from him. “I was just looking for a quiet place.”

“Is your room not an option?”

You laugh softly and shake your head. “Sometimes I do have visitors, so I knew that coming out here would guarantee that I’d be alone. But I guess I thought wrong,” you tease him.

Eren doesn’t smile, he remains as serious as he’s been all month and glances at your hand tucked behind your coat. “What were you reading?”

You bite on the inside of your cheek and completely avoid his stare as you respond with silence. He notices your afflicted reaction and speaks on the unspoken answer. “Did you finally read the letter?”

“Mhmm.”

“Good,” he retorts, “You can finally tell Jean about it so he can stop being so damn annoying: “I don’t get why she doesn’t talk about it. Why is she being so private about it? It's not like she can go to him anyway.” Blah, blah.”

Your eyes slowly flicker back to Eren and you huff out a breath of air before remarking his comment. “Well you tell him he can shut the hell up because I won’t show him.”

“Why not? He’s your best friend. I thought you told him everything. It’s actually annoying that you do that.”

Your face begins to feel warm, and your heart begins to race. “Because it’d be weird.”

“Why?” Eren probes.

“Because,” you try to explain, but come out empty. “Because he’s a guy?”

Eren snorts and shoots you perplexed gaze. “That has nothing to do with it. Why won’t you tell him?”

“Because!” You exclaim in frustration. “It’s weird Eren! Okay?”

Their’s silence for a second before you hear him laugh. When your eyes snap to him you’re taken back and confused by his sudden reaction. It doesn’t last long, but after he’s done there's a smile on his face that’s accompanied by a clear look on his face that said that he knew something. He wasn’t cocky, rather he was acting mysterious about it which was strange and alerting.

“What’s that look for?” You sneer.

“What look?” He asks, pretending to be clueless and innocent.

“That,” you point at him. “That look. It’s like you know something I don’t!”

Eren shakes his head, “I,” he hesitates, “don’t know a thing. You’re just weird.”

“Tsk,” you scoff and face away from him once again.

“Burn it then. The letter.” Eren suggests seriously. “It’s not like it means anything. And it seems that it only hurts you. Burn it.”

You kick a rock off the ground and lift your hand to look at the parchment in your hand again. “I just wish it could burn the memories along with it.”

Eren sighs, “yeah it won’t do that. But I bet it’ll help.”

His words were unexpected, his behavior was weird and has been weird for the past month now. As you tried to steal a side glance of him, it turned out he was looking at you, so you didn’t catch that distant look that you’ve noticed on him before. But there was something odd about him that you did begin to pick up on just now too; He was more serious recently, bruting, silent, he always seemed lost in his own mind. It was now as you were alone with him that you began to actually notice it and not take a passing note of it.

Yet you didn’t find yourself trying to get answers. You brushed it off as him still being upset over what happened after returning from his hometown. It’d take time to heal from that, so you glossed over his odd behavior and let him help you start a fire in a nearby fire pit without a single question.

When the flames were enraged you pulled the letter out from its hiding spot, and after a deep breath and a moment of hesitation, you let the letter fall in the fire to then watch as sparks flew up against the night. You basked in the flames' warmth, and stood in silence while the burning flames ate away at the parchment, turning it into nothing but ashes. Now Reiner’s words only existed in your memory, that unfortunately wouldn't burn away anytime soon, but Eren was right, watching the fire burn the letter and all his words along with it, made you feel much better. You were still a bit wounded over what he said, but your heart didn’t feel those pings of pain anymore.

“That actually helped,” you broke the silence and spoke over the crackling fire. “Thank you Eren.”

Said boy meets your gaze and offers you a soft smile before he looks away and proceeds to extinguish the fire, leaving the area dark and surrounded by the strong smoky after smell. After that he doesn’t take long before he turns body halfway to then break you from the silence. “Come on, let's go inside. You’ll catch a cold.”

Without putting up a fight, and actually feeling thankful that you were getting out of the cold, you follow Eren inside, walking side by side in a comfortable silence.

*1 YEAR LATER*

The air was dry and hot, as it blew past your face the wind offended your face, it stung the apple of your cheeks sting. But Eren said it was just the sand grains hitting your face as it mixed with the wind that didn’t let your hood stay on your head. And there was a lot of that on the ground your horse ran on, miles and miles of golden lands of sand. Nothing like you've ever seen before. And nothing compared to snow fields.

The sight was mesmerizing though, especially with how the sun casted over the fields of sand. The sun beams made the distant grains of sand glimmer like glass. For so long it seemed like you would never leave the field, it seemed endless, but soon some of the sand met its end when it stopped at the edge of a tall grey wall you rode by, whilst some part of it blended into a hill with spots of tall grass.

Beyond that hill though, that’s where all your curiosity focused on, to the loud crashing sound that traveled over it. It was a consistent sound that got louder the closer you all rode towards it, it sounded like a calm song that consisted only of slow crashing rhythms. Usually the sound of a crash was chaotic, but this was a peaceful sound. Unrealistic.

Yet that word held no meaning compared to the beauty that lay beyond the hill. How could someone describe the large glimmering blue body of water? Beautiful didn’t even begin to describe how the blue water looked. Was it majestic? Surreal? The crashing sound you had heard from the distance was now a louder sound in your ears, even more so as you stood in a still silence as you ogled the calming water, as you caught waves calmly flowing into the sand bank below.

This couldn’t be real. The sea seemed like a painting, or a dream you were stuck in. And it would’ve felt that way if you didn’t remind yourself to breathe in the fresh air. The air that smelled like…well there were no words that came to mind because it didn’t smell like anything, if someone did demand an answer, the first thing that came up was, fresh, the air really smelled fresh here. Different.

The breath of air was reviving as well. Feeling the air travel into your lungs broke you from your stupor, and let your limbs finally receive the messages to move that your mind kept sending. And before you knew it, and without thinking, you tugged on your horse's reins to turn back and sprint down the hill without a single word to anyone. Levi called after you in a concerned voice, but his words were blown away by the fresh and cool breeze. Your horse didn’t even come to a full stop before you swung your legs over the saddle and slid off its back to let your boots crash on the sand ground.

Quickly after your boots struck the ground though, you felt the sand begin to pull your feet down, it made you begin to panic. But it was truly nothing to worry about because your feet just sunk down a few centimeters. That led you to not waste anymore time and begin to tug your boots off, hopping on one foot as you struggled to pull them off in a hurry. However, after you freed your feet from every layer that covered it, you ignored how soft and grainy it felt because all you could think about doing was jumping back as the skin on the bottom of your foot burned.

“Ow. Ow. Oh. Ow.” Instinctively you began to skip forward, where the water met the sand. Feeling the damped, cold and more solid ground under your feet felt instantly refreshing. The sand tickled your toes as you wiggled them and buried them in the sand, the feeling and sight of the darker grains of sand getting stuck between your toes made you smile, and made you begin to crouch down to feel it with your own fingers, but the moment the water lightly crashed into your feet, you let out a soft giggle and jumped back feeling completely in awe with how cold the water felt, and going completely unaware of the approaching horses.

“Cherry!”

You stand up straight at the sound of Levi’s call.

“Be careful!” He warned.

Once again you laugh before you look back at him with a goofy smile on your lips, and tears rolling down your cheeks.

When did I start crying?

Levi hesitantly slid off his own horse and he wanted to shoot you another warning, or scold you for not being cautious in new territory, just like he did when you took your first step above ground. But the moment he saw your soft smile and the happy tears filled in your eyes, he stopped himself and eased a bit to take in the sight of sea from up close. He nevertheless watched from afar, unlike all your other friends who soon wandered into the water, slowly taking their time to admire it a bit more before completely relaxing and enjoying the new finding without a care in the world.

“Look,” Hange whispered as they point to something purple and curved buried in the sand under the water.

Cautiously you crouch down and scoop it up to show off it to Hange with a grin. “What do you think it is? It has like ripples on it, and it’s hard, but light.”

“You two stop touching stuff, you don’t know what it can do. What if it’s poisonous,” Levi shouts again, albeit like all the other times, you throw him a thumbs up before completely brushing off his concern and going deeper into the water. “Cherry.”

A mischievous grin spreads on your lips and you let your object drop to walk further away, only slightly peeking back before you pretend to fall into the water. And even if the water burned your eyes as you stayed submerged, you kept them open to be able to see after hearing Levi’s muffled call. Knowing that he would instinctively come to you in worry, you waited underwater with your breath held.

The moment you saw his boots nearby you jumped up and rapidly grabbed him to drag him under. Levi fought against you and won, jumping out from under the water and looking at you in disbelief. He parted his lips but he didn’t even know what to say for a few seconds, you were grinning like a child and he didn’t feel mad, he just felt surprised—“brat,” he whispered breathlessly, holding your gaze and staying in the water.

You shrug and grin wider before taking a step away in thoughts of joining Sasha, Connie and Jean in the distance. Yet the moment you take the step away, you feel water splash all over the side of your face. Your head instantly snaps in the direction where the water came from and you catch Levi with a small smile on his face.

“It wasn’t me,” he lied. “It was Hange.”

“What?! Liar!”

Your grin slowly regrows and the water below splashes as you shift your body around to face Levi. He holds your gaze, but let’s his eyes bounce to your hands tucking under the wet surface. No matter how cautious he tries to be though, he misses your quick flick of the wrists and gets splashed with water. He lets out a lighthearted scoff and hits you right back, the sudden cold and wet feeling making you laugh after the water hits you.

Without hesitation you throw more water, this time Levi laughs softly before he walks back out of the water and tugs Hange to the side so they’d be hit with the second large splash of water you had thrown. They were going to protest against Levi, but Hange’s attention snaps to you when the water hits them. Unlike Levi’s hesitance at the beginning, Hange is quick to play along with you, albeit she’s more harsh with their splashes. But considering that your friends began to gather after hearing Levi laugh, and catching only partially of what playful actions he gave into before returning to the safety of the sand, you hide behind Jean and let him get splashed.

“Hey! What the hell is your problem?” He snaps at you after he gets splashed.

“You were in the way,” you quip in a playful tone.

Jean slowly begins to smile and before you could walk away, he grabs you and tries to pull you down to the water. You grip onto his forearms and fight back against his attempts. “No, Jean dont you dare,” you say in between laughs.

Sasha and Connie begin to help him, but you keep resisting against them and only laugh more, to the point your stomach begins to hurt. And since the three of them were balled up around you, Mikasa manages to sneak up and shove the four of you in the water. After seeing you go under again, Levi reacts and is ready to go after you, but Hange is quick to stop him when they reach his side.

“She’ll be okay. I mean she is seventeen.”

Levi crosses his arms over his chest and lets out a relieved breath of air when you come out of the water with a beaming grin. “Yeah,” Levi grumbles, “I know.”

Hange pulls off their glasses and begins wiping the water off the glass while they continue to try and assure him. “My point is that she’s not a little girl anymore.”

Levi hesitates to answer, and when he can form words he looks at the sand and mutters. “I know.” He looks up again to watch you from afar, not being able to help himself get lost in the happy smile glued to your face. “We’ve come a long way from The Underground.”

“Hmm. She’s done great.”

He exhales deeply and can’t help the memory of Kenny’s words from playing in his head as he watches you laugh carefree, and have fun with your friends without worrying about anything else, simply enjoying the time in the sea neither of you even thought of imagining when you lived underground.

“Promise me…You won’t let her turn out like me. The world has a habit…of destroying the most precious things.”

A/N- Don't worry my beloved friends there's going to be more chapters before moving to season 4! And I will tell you, LOOK FORWARD FOR THE NEXT ONE!! IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING!

Tagged- @expectoscamander @greenygreenland @that-soft-lesbian-friend @dai-tsukki-desu @usernamehere91 , @avocadopoosae @romancried @victor-criss-bish @moo-moo-meadow @stareatceiling @padfootii @ravensleepyeyes

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tchaikovskym · 3 years

Text

Wangxian fic recs

(pt2 here)

Hi so I live for fic recs that's why I've decided to finally make recs myself. So here are the fics I enjoyed the most in no particular order

Linger in the Sun by etymologyplayground

"Tell Lan Zhan that I'm weeping uncontrollably," Wei Wuxian says to the juniors. "Tell him I'm truly pitiful and he needs to do everything I say until I'm well again."

Lan Congyi is in the middle of carefully holding his eyelids open to check his pupils, but he still obeys, bless him. "Hanguang-Jun, Senior Wei would like us to tell you that he can't stop crying and he'd like for you to do everything he says until he's better." There's a moment of silence, and then Lan Congyi says to Wei Wuxian, "Hanguang-Jun says he already does everything you tell him."

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji find themselves cursed, unable to see or hear each other. They figure things out anyway.

I loved this one so much!! A nice case fic with lots of love!!!

From the Ashes by mostlynonsense (travelingpsycho)

The war is over and Lan Zhan wants nothing more than a quiet life and a simple job as ship's security. His partner Wei Ying has other ideas about the quiet part, and life is never so simple... (a.k.a. Wangxian In Space)

I'm always wary of space stories because ever since others had gotten me into star wars or voltron I started to think stories about space are plot lacking technical fantasy. But not this fic! Of course it has the vibes of space stories, but it redeemed the whole thing for me. Anyway there is tension and... love!! And don't fear the angst tag, it's not because of bad miscommunication!

most times a wish by impossibletruths

Turns out the HR department may have had a point when they said don't bring your work home with you, and not just in the metaphorical sense. In his defense, it's not like he was trying to get anyone cursed.

I love this fic aaaa! It's modern cultivation, I really liked the setting!! And oh my god they were roommates hehe

side effects may include by slightlytookish

Worry still sat in Wei Wuxian's stomach like a stone, but what Lan Wangji was describing sounded less like the curse was acting up and more like he'd gone and caught a cold.

As if on cue, Lan Wangji sneezed loudly.

On their first night hunt together after Wei Wuxian returns from his travels, Lan Wangji gets hit with a curse that seals his spiritual power. With his defenses down, he soon catches a cold.

Wei Wuxian is ready to look after him. What he's not ready to deal with are Feelings.

Lovely the untamed post-canon fic! Love!!!

if you go chasing rabbits by occultings (microcomets)

Wei Wuxian drops his hand, leans one shoulder into the stunted door frame. “Oh. Okay. So. Why are you here, exactly?”

“The Institute sent me to assist you,” the ridiculously beautiful cardigan owner says, “as your familiar.”

Wei Wuxian laughs as if it’s a joke, although the man’s stony expression makes it clear that any humor gleaned from him is likely unintentional.

“Well, uh, I appreciate your,” Wei Wuxian says, “you know, time, but everything is under control here, actually.”

With impeccable timing, a tea-kettle sound keens from the kitchen, followed by a contained bang.

—

Or: Wei Wuxian is a witch, Lan Wangji is sent to be his familiar. They figure it out.

I loved this one so much! Once again the way magic works in this was so fascinating! And usually I stay away from animal transformation because that can get weird in an uncomfortable way, but not this one!

Bring Out The Sea In Me by Tabi_essentially

Post canon, Wei Wuxian takes Lan Wangji to the ocean because he's a total water baby and he wants to share his joy. Some rando gets pulled out by the rip, WWX is a competent badass, LWJ is massively turned on by this.

A nice careless beach day that turns into not so nice beach day, but it's all good at the end.

and here comes the summertime by ribena

(available only when logged in ao3)

On the first day of Lan Zhan’s first class of senior year, Wei Ying walks into his classroom.

“Oh, good morning, Wei Ying!” says Professor Song cheerfully, because she has betrayed him. She smiles at Wei Ying, because she has betrayed him, and then she gestures at Lan Zhan and says, “This is Lan Zhan, have you two met before?” because she has betrayed him.

“No,” Wei Ying answers, and sticks his hand out at Lan Zhan. “Nice to meet you!”

“The two of you are going to be TA’ing this class together,” Professor Song goes on, like she has not just thrown off Lan Zhan’s entire day and possibly his entire month. “And, of course, helping out with my research together as well, so I hope you two can get along well!”

or; Lan Zhan tries very hard not to be Wei Ying's friend. He does not succeed.

I almost didn't read this because Lan Zhan was too much of an ass to Wei Ying at the beginning, but man I'm glad I stayed and read it.

A Bad of Nibs (Nibs are Bad) by Enk

To his own surprise, Wei Ying doesn't hate quarantine. It's full of Lan Zhan, bunnies, great food, evenings curled up on the couch watching nature documentaries. Wei Ying can't imagine it getting any better. Until it does.

Except Nibs. Nibs are the worst.

And *gasps* they were quarantined together! Really cute and lovely <3 (the nibs part will be explained lol)

Unstrictly Ballroom by Ariaste

Thirteen years ago, Wei Wuxian brought scandal and shame down upon his head and was thrown out of the competitive ballroom dance circuit. He vanished, never to be heard from again.

Lan Wangji aches when he remembers the way Wei Ying danced--like a laugh given movement and form. He has never stopped searching for him.

Delightful fic! I really don't know anything about competitive dancing but I felt it.

all the silver moons by milkcrates

"Hey," says Wei Ying. It's the softest his voice has gone tonight, but he's close enough for Lan Wangji to– touch him, kiss him– hear him. "Eyes on me."

Wei Ying, thinks Lan Wangji, always.

And he passes out.

Lan Wangji gets injured on a night hunt, Wei Wuxian takes care of him, and lots of feelings are had.

What it says on the label, LOTS OF FEELINGS ARE HAD.

For my heart's ground. by orange_crushed

After a while he can feel a palm against his face, gentle fingers soft and soothing. It’s not real, not exactly: he can tell the difference between a ghost’s touch and a living person’s, between a spirit-vision and an overactive imagination. His education has been thorough. But the beating has also been thorough, so for now he forgets what he knows and leans into it, into the hand cupping his cheek. It’s soft and dry as those forgotten petals, as the touch of a pillow. He can smell wildflowers, can taste blood and dirt. My baby, his mother says, and he closes his eyes. My treasure. He barely remembers the sound of her voice, but the feeling of it is just the same. Just the same as ever.

[In which Lan Wangji loses almost everything, plants a garden, and grows a second chance.]

Love how this fic took the silly concept of planting A Yuan among the radishes and developed something so intricate and beautiful, another type of magic.

Bzzz Bzzz Feel Good by ScarlettStorm

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says, and when Wei Ying turns around, Lan Zhan has followed him into the kitchen and is doing something with the empty wine glass that could almost be termed fidgeting. His fingertips tense and relax, and Lan Zhan takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders almost imperceptibly. “Would you like me to cut your hair for you?”

Wei Ying’s brain skids to a halt. Oh. Huh. That would. That would be a hell of a lot easier, wouldn’t it? Lan Zhan would at least be able to see and touch the back of his head at the same time, and that’s half the battle. Even if it’s not a good haircut, it would be something, and it probably wouldn’t end with Wei Ying in tears, and it would end with Wei Ying having shorter hair, which is the only thing he really wants right now.

“Yeah,” he says, a little awed. “If you don’t mind then that would be great, Lan Zhan.” He can almost feel the breeze on his undercut again, spine tingling in anticipation.

Or: Lan Zhan offers to help out with Wei Ying's quarantine growout... with sexy results!

Modern AU and getting together via quarantine forced haircut at home <;3

the best of you by sysrae

When Jin Zixuan calls in a favour, Lan Wangji ends up renting his spare room to Wei Wuxian.

It doesn't go how any of them expected.

Loved this fic so much aaa

Disapproving Rabbit by jadztone

Elementary school teacher Wei Ying talks his idiot coworker Su She out of making a class pet out of a rabbit he found in a park. He's quite taken with the bunny's glares and foot stomps, and so is his son A-Yuan. But any hope that they might make this disapproving rabbit their pet is dashed when they learn the truth about "Bunji" from vet friend Nie Mingjue.

Cute fic with shapeshifter Lan Zhan

Tell Sincerely, Half So Clearly by Sweet_William

Lan Wangji was in love with his roommate, Wei Wuxian. Which was fine. It was fine. He was handling it. Or he was handling it, until they started to get closer, and Wei Wuxian picked up a little habit that seemed tailor-made to push him to his limit until he either confessed or was set on fire by his own blush. Lan Xichen was probably taking bets on which it would end up being.

A short one but a good one! F E E L I N G S

A Curse of a Different Color by nickel710

At home, Lan Wangji steels himself before taking off his shirt to investigate the problem on his arm. He isn’t sure which will be worse— to peel away his sleeve and find something horrific, or find nothing at all out of the ordinary.

Still, the only way to know is to take action, so he shoves his anxious uncertainty down into his golden core to burn away into nothing and unbuttons his shirt. Out come the cuff links, set gently back into their case. Finally, he tugs his arms out of their sleeves and, not yet looking at his arm, puts the shirt into its appropriate color-sorted laundry bin.

At last, he lets his gaze move to the back of his left forearm. His breath catches in his throat. The fingers of his right hand move, shaking just slightly, to skim at the half inch spot about halfway between his elbow and wrist.

Hard to the touch, there is a patch of cool white stone on his skin. More accurately, perhaps, there is a patch of his skin that has transmutated into, if he had to hazard a guess, white jade.

In which Lan Wangji is slowly turning into jade and turns to local curse-breaking expert Wei Wuxian for help.

This was such a good one! Jade of Gusu, you say, huh. I loved the concept of someone being so expressionless that it made them turn to actual jade.

Where You Fell by Sweet_William

Years ago, Lan Wangji was a Senior in high school, readying himself for graduation and the coming years studying at the Gusu Lan Institute of Music. Everything in his life made sense, from his role in his family, to a future as a classical musician. The only thing that didn’t fit was the sudden epiphanies he had about himself brought on by his bothersome and flirtatious classmate, Wei Wuxian. When the growing attraction and friendship was cut short by the other boy’s disappearance, he mourned what could have been, but ultimately had to move on. What he didn’t know was that fate would bring them back together again one day, or the reality of how far apart two lives can diverge, how some can find peace and prosperity, while others can fall farther than he ever imagined.

This is a looooooooooong one and I read it while it was still being written and I had such a great time with it! Hit me in all the right spots. However be wary of 300k words tho!

Vagabond by xantissa

Wei Wuxian comes back to Cloud Recesses after a year of wandering the world, hoping to start a relationship with Lan Zhan. He doesn’t expect to come into the middle of a case of sleeping sickness mysteriously killing people, nor does he expect what follows, putting everything he holds dear on the line once again.

Loved this one so much! There was such a good twist!

decay by antebunny

The Lans agree to take in the DafanWen after Wei Wuxian rescues them from Qiongli Path. Their only condition: that Wei Wuxian lets himself be purified of resentful energy. Lan Wangji thinks this is how he will finally get his Wei Ying back, free from demonic influences. Wei Wuxian thinks this is a fancy way of saying "execution."

Angsty in all the right ways.

in the blossom season (in the pouring rain) by varnes

“A-Yuan,” he says, carefully, “did—did you make the flowers grow like this?”

A-Yuan shakes his head in exasperation. “Baba, I said. Doctor Flowers did it.”

“Doctor Flowers,” Lan Zhan repeats, pointing at the tiny plum tree, just to confirm that his son is suggesting a magical tree named Doctor Flowers sprouted overnight and made their tame family project turn into a verdant jungle. A-Yuan nods. “Doctor Flowers,” he confirms. “He’s funny! I like him.”

A mysterious garden blooms on Lan Zhan's rooftop. His internet forum pen pal gives great gardening advice but never seems to sleep. The man who works at the florist, who keeps reviving the plants that Lan Zhan can't seem to keep alive, has a beautiful smile.

These things are related.

Mhmm cute little misunderstandings

a garden in your ribcage by puddingcatbeans

Strange magic-induced rings of decay have started appearing all over the old, weary city of Yiling. As the resident witch, Wei Ying is prepared to deal with it on his own with his unorthodox way of witchcraft, but recently a new witch has moved into town.

Between solving the mystery and re-learning this grown-up, softer version of the Lan Zhan he remembers from what feels like a lifetime ago, Wei Ying's days have become a lot more interesting.

(or, soft witches au featuring the wens, plants, food, and the inherent romanticism of having deep mutual respect for the fellow witch you're working together with to save a city.)

I'm a sucker for modern magic and this fic delivered the best! Loved it so much!

the world passes by but for me there is only you by beeswaxing

Lan Zhan finds out about Wei Ying’s core removal from an unlikely source, and it isn’t the only secret the two teenagers have been keeping from each other.

Sentient weapons taken to another level, dare I say.

Lead Me On Through by vesna (mrsronweasley)

"Who do you think your betrothed is?" Wei Wuxian asks, sprawling out in front of Lan Zhan and enjoying the prim thinning of his lips at the question. He shouldn't be sprawling—they're in the library, for one, and Lan Zhan is studying, for another—but he can't help himself. Wei Wuxian is a sprawler.

"I do not believe this to be of importance," Lan Zhan responds, without turning his gaze away from his book.

"What!" Wei Wuxian sits up. "How can you say that? Of course it's important! This is the person you'll be with for the rest of your life, Lan Zhan."

A great take on Idiots In Love like oh my god they were SO DUMB but I loved them anyway

Counterpoint by Magnolias-by-the-Window (JustAnotherAbby), maichan, Tsuminoaru

“It is hard to write a beautiful song. It is harder to write several individually beautiful songs that, when sung simultaneously, sound as a more beautiful polyphonic whole.” (John Rahn)

In music, counterpoint is the relationship between two or more musical lines that are independent melodies, yet harmonically interdependent.

Lan Wangji, the principal cellist in his orchestra, finds himself performing JS Bach’s Art of Fugue with a student string quartet one semester and falls in love with the ways his life intersects with that of the lead violinist.

Wei Wuxian, a composition major, finds himself echoing that sentiment, and their story takes on all the complexity and fascination of the very fugues they are learning.

This was so good! It was like entering music school, muted sounds of someone practicing all over the building. I re-started listening to Tchaikovsky just because Lan Wangji told he liked him.

A Sure Thing by vesna (mrsronweasley)

The message says, I require exclusive commitment as well as flexibility. You may spend the night, but not always. I will be the one to keep the schedule of our meetings.

Wei Ying crunches on a chip thoughtfully, then takes a deep breath and writes back, What do I get in return?

Do not read if you're not okay with sex work etc. I didn't know if that was okay with me, but despite that I started it and it was the right decision though!

总有一天; a place to hide (can’t find one near) by yiqie

That’s just the thing, isn’t it? Wei Ying feels nothing. He doesn’t feel anything, and this emptiness should scare him. He knows he should be scared. He wants to be scared. He isn’t. Fear itself is never scary; fear is just a response. It means that your body wants you alive. It’s the absence of terror that scares him.

Another music one and oh it hit in all the right spots. Big warning for suicide, but the author did a great job by describing it. I was worried they would glorify suicide or make Lan Zhan the savior of it all, but they did not. I'm very glad the focus was not on how Wei Ying got there, but the suicide was rather the starting point, and the fic talked about recovery more than downfall.

#me thinking i can rec smth when all i can say 'it was a great fic' lol #wangxian fic rec #wangxian #the untamed fic rec #mdzs fic rec #the untamed #mdzs #if you have similar taste to mine and you have fic recs hmu babeees #happy valentines my loves

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sirisuorionblack · 3 years

Text

Counting...

Sirius Black x Reader

Summary - (Y/N) had been waiting for four very painful hours for the return of her boyfriend and he did just for mere minutes but she was determined to get him back.

Warnings - So many tears that u could bathe in and fluff.

(Y/N) sat at the dining table, alone, a coffee that turned cold being left unattended, her foot tapping anxiously and she blankly stared at the mahogany wood though her thoughts ran wild.

It's been four hours, very long four hours since Sirius - her beloved boyfriend - was supposed to be back home by the time from a "mission" but he still hasn't returned just adding fuel to the blazing amount of worry she had been enduring these days. She was a strong woman, Sirius always told her that, he would add it with a chuckle just realising how lucky he was.

Rapid knocks pulled her away from her trance. She gulped, taking out her wand and arming herself as she tentatively walked the door.

Upon unlocking, the door swung open and Sirius - she just knew it was him - smashed his lips against hers, pushing the two of them inside, pinning her to the wall.

He kissed her as though there was no tomorrow, as though he was terrified of something beyond her knowledge. He kissed her hard. A deep intuition in her just rang those bells of alarm.

(Y/N) pulled away, cupping his face as he heaved deep breaths, his head ducked and his whole body shivering.

"Hey, hey, Sirius, look at me," she pressed, softly as she tried to get him to look at her for she would read him like an open book once she saw his eyes.

When she did see those grey orbs, a soft gasp tumbled from her lips. There was no such thing as a sparkle in his eyes anymore, it was hollow, empty and filled with tears.

"Sirius, what happened?" She asked, worried beyond any level. A sob racked his body, his hands clawing hers as he tightly held them.

"James," he muttered through his sobs.

"James? What happened to him!?" She asked her eyes widening with fear, "Sirius, what happened!?"

Sirius flinched and tried to regain his breath, "James and Lily - they - that rat - he killed them!"

He sank to his knees in front of her but she stood there watching him sob uncontrollably as she numbly tried to comprehend the situation vaguely.

Giving up her attempt she too, collapsed before him, collecting him in her arms as he held onto her as if she was his lifetime. Not a single tear strung her eyes rather she blankly stared ahead, holding Sirius tightly in her arms.

It would take her years to accept what had happened, she lost them, she lost her best friends, she lost her almost family but what actually made her feel something was how Sirius felt, he lost the one he called his brother right after he lost his own, the girl he saw growing accustomed to their shenanigans and keeping them on the line was simply gone. He wouldn't hear his laughter anymore, he would see her lovely emerald eyes anymore and all because of the person they considered their best friend.

Rage passed through her though it subsided the moment a beaming Harry's face crossed through her mind.

"Sirius, Harry!" She vaguely exclaimed.

Sirius' sobs intensified and she waited until he calmed down enough to speak.

"Hag-Hagrid took him and I-I did a foolish thing," Sirius said, not meeting her eyes as he felt his head spin.

Her eyes widened, filled with an excessive amount of worry, "Wha-?"

She didn't even get to finish the question before the door burst open, a group of Aurors stood at the door, their wands outstretched, glaring at the couple sitting on the ground in each other's much-needed embrace.

"Mr Black," the Auror in the middle, growled as he stepped in. (Y/N) and Sirius scrambled to their feet, (Y/N) before Sirius.

"Ms (L/N), move over, he is dangerous," A female Auror said softly, outstretching her hand and looking at her as though she was a child about to throw a tantrum.

"Dangerous?!" (Y/N) scoffed, "Absolute bullshit!"

"Ms (L/N), step aside," Another Auror commanded her.

Sirius slipped his hand into hers, squeezing it, searching for the warmth he was afraid he would be deprived of.

The two Aurors in the front whispered amongst themselves. Suddenly one of them harshly pulled (Y/N) back, dragging Sirius away from her.

"NO!" She yelled as she struggled against the restraints of the Auror holding her back by the arm.

Before her, Sirius struggled to remove his arm from the Auror wanting nothing more than to just rush into her arms and be in her comforting embrace though that seemed like a wild fantasy at that moment.

Finding (Y/N) too hard to be held back, the Auror muttered a spell under her breath. (Y/N) straightened, her eyes turning blurry. She balanced herself against the wall, shaking her head and blinking her eyes.

"Sirius," she muttered, slipping in and out of consciousness. She no longer was able to stand on her feet. And Sirius watched her, yelling her name over and over again until three Aurors bodily dragged Sirius.

"(Y/N)!" Sirius yelled as he tried to pry the Aurors' hands at the same time (Y/N) whispered, "Don't go, Sirius," watching as he struggled against them and then, blank.

"(Y/N)," she heard someone call her name, "(Y/N),"

"Moony!? Moony is it you?" She asked, trying to open her eyes.

"Yes, yes, it's me," Remus said, helping her sit up. When Remus had entered Sirius' home after he had received the news, tears staining his cheek, he found the door blast down, not a soul aware of what had happened and what he next saw disturbed him senseless. For a second he was scared into oblivion, for a second he doubted his best friend, for a second he pitied that traitor as he saw (Y/N) laying on the ground motionless.

Remus had rushed to her, racking his brain all the difficult charms and methods he had been taught to wake her up but in the state of panic, he forgot the simplest method of all - just shaking her to wake up.

(Y/N) sat on the floor, her back against the wall, her hand clasped tightly in Remus', she took deep breaths. They sat in silence as the two of them tried to contemplate what had happened.

"They dragged him, Remus, I don't know even why. They said he was dangerous; Sirius cant be dangerous, he isn't," she muttered, looking at him with tear-filled eyes.

Remus sighed as he sat on the floor, squeezing her hand comfortingly and took a deep breath for what he was about to say, "After he found out about...Peter, he left after him and Sirius seemed to have cornered him, and then the Aurors arrived when almost 12 muggles were killed, and they saw nothing of Peter except for his finger was found. Before they could arrest Sirius there itself he had apparated here,"

By the time Remus finished, (Y/N) had her head leaning against the wall, staring at the photo frame right before her. It was of Sirius and her, making goofy faces and smiling at the camera, it was a week after they graduated.

"Why would Peter do that?" She whispered as she finally looked into his eyes. Remus chuckled sadly, "You know him, very well honestly, he would want to be under those who were more powerful than him, so he joined," Remus gulped, "Voldemort,"

(Y/N)'s lips parted in disbelief, "He was the spy?"

Remus nodded.

"But how did he do it?"

He sighed, "He was the secret keeper, it seems,"

"What?"

"Yeah,"

(Y/N) slapped a hand against her mouth as tears ran free from her eyes. Remus wrapped his arms around her, allowing his best friend to weep into his arms and he too, unable to hold the tears, let them stream down his eyes.

The morning when Dumbledore came to the household where Remus and (Y/N) sat, silently grieving for their best friends, not a word uttered by them, to inform Sirius has been sentenced to Azkaban for life, (Y/N) didn't feel sadness rather rage, "What!? He's not been given a chance to prove his innocence! You can't throw just him like that into Azkaban forever!" She yelled.

Dumbledore spoke calmly, "Ms. (L/N), please calm down. It's been declared by the Ministry, we cannot do anything about it,"

She took a deep breath and looked at the man pointedly, "Well, professor, if that's it, I don't find a reason for your presence here anymore,"

Dumbledore's blue eyes flashed but he apparated without a word nonetheless.

"What have you gotten in your mind?" Remus asked with a smirk as he looked at her pulling her hair into a bun and taking a deep breath.

"I am gonna prove Sirius' innocence and get my godson back," she said, determinedly as she left to her room leaving Remus sitting on the couch smiling to himself. When you have a determined (Y/N) with you, that's an announcement for the hell that is about to break loose and it could be positive or negative.

"Coffee," Remus muttered, placing the flask on (Y/N)'s desk as he glanced over the papers and textbooks scattered on her desk, "What are these?"

(Y/N) sighed, placing her pen down and leaning back on her chair, tipping it as Sirius taught her, unconsciously and Remus didn't want to point it out to her, dampening the mood.

"It's so simple, honestly," She said, glancing at the papers and then at him, "I have to get Harry's custody, and if not me Sirius should, it's legally that way too. You can't just place a year old baby in a household of the worst sort of muggles, one that absolutely ignored the fact that she had a sister,"

She took a deep breath, "Now, to Sirius, you cannot arrest someone without any evidence, much less sentence them to prison with no trial permitted. If we just try to get him a trail then everything will fall back to normal,"

"As normal as it could be," Remus said carefully.

(Y/N) sighed and nodded, "As normal as it could be,"

"What are we gonna do next?" Remus asked.

"Find someone who could help us officially for this,"

"Can't we, I dunno, do it ourselves?"

"I...I don't know,"

"We will give it a shot?"

"Damn right you are,"

Finally after two exhausting days, (Y/N) stood before Barty Crouch, some would say glaring at him, the other a cold fixated stare. She stood briskly, head held high without the minimal amount of shame or fear in that massive room, filled with people.

"Ms (Y/N) (L/N), you are here requesting another trial for Mr Sirius Orion Black." Barty Crouch said, looking at her through his glasses.

She shook her head, "Demanding for a trial,"

Crouch's nose flared as he without any disagreement corrected his mistake, knowing far too well the capability of (Y/N).

"Now, the best Aurors have seen Mr Black on the spot laughing like a maniac as the street held 13 dead bodies, including his very own friend Mr Peter Pettigrew," Barty Crouch said.

"First of all, 13 dead bodies? When was Peter's body found?" (Y/N) asked, ignoring the whispers and mutters that grew thick in the council, her gaze fixated on the man before her.

"That's right. His body was never found," She said.

"So are you telling the Wizengamot that Mr Pettigrew just magically disappeared from the scene,"

"Oh please, this Wizengamot is for magic!" She stopped to look at the slightly embarrassed face of Crouch and smirked, just look at him in the end, "Besides, he could have apparated for all we know. But that's a matter for another day; all we have at our hands is a trial for a falsely imprisoned man,"

"Ms (L/N), I will be the one directing the Wizengamot today, so please," Crouch glared at her. Someone raised a hand amidst the crowd, Amelia Bones, "Mr Crouch, I think it's best if we allow her to explain her demand. We can vote," she said, looking at the council.

A little more than half of them raised their hands, "Ah, the motion is passed, Mr Crouch, we must let her speak,"

Barty Crouch's lips twitched, "Very well then, please proceed Ms (L/N),"

(Y/N) had a smirk rivalling Sirius himself's. She took a deep breath, this moment would determine her whole life, "I demand a trial for Sirius Black, with respect to the event that happened on the night of Halloween. I am quite blatantly ashamed that the most powerful ministry wouldn't grant a trial for an innocent man," there was a voice of disapproval.

(Y/N) ignored it and continued, "I find it extremely disturbing that someone just based on his last name could be sent to Azkaban for a crime he allegedly committed. Now, Siri-Mr Black's relation with...James Potter was well known, they were almost brothers and the question here is how was he supposed to betray someone so close to him,'

"It was also known by almost everyone here about how Mr Black was disowned for going against the absurd ideas of his mother at the young age of 16, would that very man commit a crime as such!? And it's quite easy to find the truth here at the Ministry of Magic, a simple Veritaserum would do the job and if that didn't work, a check of memories of muggles at the spot would have shown the truth. And just as you said you have the best Aurors, allow them to seem the truth!"

(Y/N) finished, taking a sip of the water beside her and the council looked rather convinced by her speech. Once again Amelia Bones stood, "A vote again, perhaps, Mr Crouch?" She asked.

The man in question looked absolutely bewildered by how wrong things have been going now that the spotlight to it had been given. He nodded.

"Great. Those in favour of granting Mr Black his fair trial upon the use of Veritaserum," she said and grinned as almost all the members in the council raised their hands.

(Y/N) beamed as Crouch announced, "Sirius Orion Black will be given his trial on the third of November, here at this very room with Veritaserum brewed by a highly talented Potions Master. Any objection? Very well then, Council dismissed,"

"Moony!" (Y/N) rushed into Remus' arms, tears stinging her eyes, "We did it, Moony! We did it!"

"You got the trial!?" Remus asked, grinning at her after she pulled away.

"Yes!" She chuckled happily.

"You did it!" Remus yelled as he pulled his best friend into a bone-crushing hug, wiping his own tears.

"When is it?" He asked, still beaming.

Her bottom lip quivered, "Third of November,"

Remus' shoulder slumped, Sirius had planned something that would have changed the two of their lives on that day, and it was part of the reason why he got arrested. Remus engulfed her in a warm hug.

"Don't worry, we know he is innocent," Remus reassured (Y/N), him moving to the stands while she stood in the front of the very room she struggled for a trial on November 3.

Minutes later, the Aurors escorted Sirius into the room, he looked glum and hollow. He looked as though he feared human touch anymore, as though all those bad memories within him surfaced. He looked fragile and in that moment (Y/N)'s heart shattered.

She wanted to just rush into his arms and never let him go, hold him close to her, whisper soothing terms into his ears, for only him to hear.

Sirius glanced around the room, his eyes falling on (Y/N), he felt in the precise second nothing but pride blooming through his chest, she was his brave girl, he wouldn't worry about her, he knew she would survive. If his world hadn't collapsed, he would have called her his fiancee.

"Mr Sirius Orion Black, after the request of Ms (L/N), you have been granted a chance to prove your innocence. You will be given two drops of the truth potion - Veritaserum, and then Ms Amelia Bones, will question you," Barty Crouch announced.

Sirius was then seated in the middle of the room, his eyes fixed on nothing but (Y/N) who smiled warmly at him and he felt as if there was nothing wrong, it's just another prank he got caught in, just another petty detention, just another pathetic duel with Slytherins, he felt a bloom of comfort spreading from his chest. He allowed a little smile, very minuscule to tug on the corner of his lips.

"You, Sirius Orion Black, son of Walburga and Orion Black?" Amelia Bones questioned the basics, testing the potion.

Sirius snorted, folding his arms before him and slumping on his chair, "Unfortunately,"

"You were a Gryffindor?"

He smirked, "Yes,"

"Well, Mr Black now let me know what happened on Halloween's night?"

Sirius took a sharp intake of breath and sat properly on the chair, "I went see Prongs first to tell about the ring and when I went there the roof of their house was absolutely collapsed and I was afraid what could have happened so I went in and," Sirius' voice broke and tears stung in his eyes just as it did to (Y/N), she never knew these.

"And I-I saw James laying on the floor, his eyes were open but....he wasn't- he wasn't moving and when I checked for his breath," Sirius took a deep breath, "There was nothing,"

Sirius retold what he had seen and done on that day, with pauses for breath and sips of water to calm himself down.

By the end, Amelia Bones was moved to tears so were the rest of the courtroom, especially (Y/N) who often wiped her eyes.

Bones turned to Barty Crouch, silently asking him for the final judgement.

He took a deep breath, "Very well then, at the end of this trial, based on accounts given by the Accused induced with Veritaserum, I, Bartemius Crouch, hereby declare, Sirius Orion Black innocent!"

Remus and (Y/N) patiently waited for Sirius to change out of his Azkaban clothes and into the one he was wearing that day.

"Love?" Sirius called, tentatively, about four feet away. Tears started to stream down (Y/N)'s eyes as she ran towards him.

She threw herself into his arms, burying her head into his shoulders and chanting his name. Sirius slowly started to rock her, finally, the warmth he had been deprived of seeped into his body, he felt safe and...home.

"Darling, I am here, don't worry, it's going to be OK," He consoled her. The turn of events was almost hilarious for (Y/N), it was supposed to be her saying those words.

She pulled away, cupping his cheeks. There were dark circles under his eyes, his eyes - Oh goodness - they were a dark shade of grey, bad memories and tears clouding them, and he looked pale.

She couldn't hold her to see him anymore so she smashed her lips against his, inviting him for a passionate embrace. Neither of them knew until then that this was what they wanted, to feel the other, a silent reassurance that everything is going to be alright.

Remus watched as the two of his...remaining best friends held each other in a much-needed embrace, he smiled warmly. The surprise that would await the two of them by the other.

"Come on," (Y/N) beckoned inside their, squeezing Sirius' hand and Remus in tow, "Stay here," she said and disappeared inside a room.

Sirius took out the velvet box buried inside his coat pocket and showed it to Remus, who clapped him on the back and nodded encouragingly.

When (Y/N) returned with a sleeping baby Harry in her arms, beaming, she didn't expect to see Sirius on his one knee, holding a velvet box open, a beautiful diamond ring shining inside.

The two of them gasped simultaneously as Remus watched with proud eyes, feeling like a mother watching her kids grow.

"I dunno what to say," Sirius said, "Everything I prepared flew out of my mind. But just one thing, I need you in my life, I need you for my sanity, I am absolutely nothing without you and you hold my world above, darling, if it wasn't for you it would have collapsed ages ago. Over everything else...I love you, so much that I can't even express it. I-will you, (Y/N) (L/N), marry me?"

(Y/N) nodded rapidly, unable to speak she rushed into his arms, still holding Harry carefully.

They pulled away after a moment and Sirius slipped the ring into her finger and took Harry in his arms, admiring how much he looked like his father.

"I love you, (Y/N)," he said, his arm encircling around her waist.

"I love you too," she muttered, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Remus," Sirius called, glancing behind for his best friend, "Group hug,"

Remus rushed to the three of them. Finally, they felt happy perhaps like tightly woven remainings of one big family.

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius orion black #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius x reader #remus lupin #remus john lupin #remus lupin x platonic!reader #james potter #harry potter #harry potter x reader #lily evans #amelia bones #marauders #marauders era #mwpp era

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ellana-ravenwood · 4 years

Text

Sick Day - Batfam x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : It’s never fun to be sick. Duh. But when you have loving parents there to take care of you, maybe it isn’t so bad ? Just short little snippets of the first time each Batkids fell ill in Wayne Manor, and how Bruce and his wife (you :D) dealt with it.

Another “burst of the moment inspiration” story, just a little drabble. Promise I’ll post something more elaborate soon :), hope you’ll like it :

My master list blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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(Thanks to that anon who mentioned the kids getting shots, that gave me with this an idea on how to start this fic :D. The original beginning was different, I think I like that one better hehe.)

"Mister Wayne, if you keep doing this, I'm not going to be able to give your son-Bruce for god's sake !"

Leslie Thompkins, for the first time in her long career, was about to lose her patience and give up on...giving a simple shot to a baby.

She has seen worried parents before, of course. The one that clung to their child’s hand, or those who would cry because their little one was in pain…

Babies that young, who had to get vaccinated for the first time, never really experienced this sort of quick pain before.

A lot of them would cry more out of surprise than because it really hurt. Oh and when the parents were extra worried, you could be sure the baby was even more likely to burst into tears, sensing his parents' distress.

Yes. doctor Thompkins gave shots to a LOT of babies, and saw a LOT of worried parents before…But never had she met someone quite like Bruce Wayne.

He always came to her when his kids were sick. He could go to a fancier office, or to one of those pricy fancy private hospitals. But no.

No because, when it came to his kids’ health, there was no one he trusted more than Doctor Leslie Thompkins.

So it was no surprise when he brought his youngest son, Thomas, to get his first shot ever. What was a surprise though, was his reaction.

"And now you know why I'm always the only one in the room when this happens."

You say, smiling apologetically to the doctor. But ah, at least your husband's reaction eased a little the tension in your body brought by the mere idea of your baby being hurt.

Every single time Leslie got the syringe close to your little one, Bruce would reflexively grab her wrist and stop her from giving the shot to his son.

Ridiculous, really.

But it seemed it was something he couldn't fight.

He apologized the first time he did it, as Dr Thompskins smiled and said it was ok, rather amused. But then the second time, it was getting clear he didn't seem to quite control himself. At the third time Bruce was visibly sweating. Dr Thompkins finally snapped as she tried for a fourth and fifth time to give a shot to little Thomas (who, at barely 2 months old, was much too young to even understand what was happening, but by his little smiles it was clear he was happy every time his father would come into his vision).

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just…I thought I could do it, but I can't."

And oh. Oh it's adorable the way he turns to you, his eyes saying "I'm sorry" as he takes his son back in his arms and holds him against his chest. You weren’t sure if it was to comfort little Tommy, or if he was comforting himself.

"I think I should just let you two handle this ?" He asks, unsure. He doesn’t want you to be mad or to think he’s abandoning you.

"I think this is a good idea Bruce, yes."

You smile at him reassuringly. It’s fine. It was always fine.

"I'm sorry, sorry I'm letting you do this alone once again. I just can't…"

"Oh it's ok my Broosh, I know you hate shots. I can handle it, and little buddy here sure can too."

Thomas coos happily as you pick him up delicately from his father's arms. Bruce resists a bit, before finally giving in and letting you take hold of the little one.

He lays a hand on his son's head, looking fondly at him (of this look he only gives his children, of this pure look full of unconditional love, and a hint of “what did I do to deserve this sort of happiness ?”) and then sighs, press a soft kiss to your forehead, murmuring a last “I’m sorry, my love” and leaves the room.

He feels a little ashamed to let you do this once again, but you've always been the strongest one out of the two. After all, you willingly decided to marry a man like him…

"Alright Mrs Wayne, ready ? And here we-oh not you too (Y/N) !"

"I'm sorry I'm sorry, I don't know what took over me, it was just a reflex too !"

You apologize, as you let go of the doctor's wrist…

Yeah, it was just a gut reaction to seeing a scary needle approaching your baby's thigh. In your line of um, nightly work, you came to be very wary, of syringes. You still remember vividly that time Tim got hit with one of Scarecrows’ needle, and how terrible this night had been...

"Ok ok, now is fine. Go. I'm ready. Go fast though, now. Now I’m not looking. Go. Go. Go."

Tears welling up in your eyes at the mere thought of this happening, you look away as you hold your son still (something he doesn't like as clearly shown by his little sound of protest, and as he starts to fuss about), and in one, two seconds…it's done.

And not a peep from your son.

He just stopped making any sound (he've always been rather vocal), his eyes went wide, and he made a face that looked like he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to cry or not. Then there’s one more second, and Leslie had a soothing bandaid on his little leg, and you were holding him against your heart, and the pain was so fleeting and already gone, that he just gets over it quickly, feeling your love.

Calming down instantly, not noticing the tears in your eyes (thank god, or it’d be a sure way to make him weep too).

And so he doesn't cry. And everything is ok again.

“Well, that wasn’t so hard, was it ?”

“Actually, it was.”

You say, barely holding your tears in, your son cooing in your arms

“Um...I was talking to Thomas.”

Leslie answers, amused. And just like that, you both burst into laughter.

After a few minutes of this uncontrollable fit of giggles, you thank Leslie for her help, and leave the room, joining your husband who had been walking back and forth in the waiting room, nervous.

He comes immediately to you and Thomas, and as soon as the boy sees his dad he smiles widely and giggles. Bruce gives him a soft smile, before turning to you :

“How was it ?”

“For me ? Not great. For Tommy ? He didn’t even utter a sound. Our little guy is brave !”

You kiss your son on his forehead, and he giggles and coos even more. There’s a short silence, before Bruce says :

“I’m sorry...”

And then he takes you in his arms, sandwiching little Thomas who’s protesting a bit. Damn, his parents could be so clingy !

“It’s ok my Broosh, I already told you. It’s ok.”

You sort of knew since you stepped into the doctor’s room that you’d end up being the one having to hold your boy anyway.

You knew oh too well how squeamish he was whenever HE had to get a shot done (and oh who would’ve thought the big bad bat hated getting shots so much uh ? You were pretty sure he would rather getting actually shot than take a tiny needle in his arm any day of the week...Alfred always had to fight with him to inject anesthesia when treating him for wounds). It was actually sort of a requirement, that you’d be next to him to give him your hand when he absolutely had to get a shot.

So understandably so, he always skipped on his children’s vaccins. He just couldn’t bear to see anyone he cared for to get that very things he hated so much, it just made him feel ill.

And you’ve always been fine with this. Since that very first day when you took Dick there...But Bruce always felt bad.

Because whenever you’d get out of the doctor’s office, you’d have fresh tears in your eyes, because you were just too pure for this world (is what Damian would say).

Dick always took advantage of this. He was never really scared of shots, and thought they didn’t really hurt...But oh, oh he would always cry a river of crocodile tears just so he’d get extra cuddles and ice cream.

And then, that cheeky little bugger passed that knowledge of “when we get shots, or we get sick, the parents literally let us do WHATEVER we want !” to his little siblings (you were actually pretty sure your kids would pass secret ways to manipulate you and Bruce along to their younger siblings and..you were oddly fine with it. You loved those kids too much to care, really).

This thought reminded you of that very first time Dick fell sick, shortly after you and Bruce officially adopted him.

And how much you guys freaked out.

It was both a pleasant, and terrible memory.

And oh. Oh you already dreaded the day Thomas would have his first real fever...You still remembered how it happened, with all your other children.

“What is it ?” Bruce asks, always knowing when something was on your mind. And so you say : “Nothing bad, this just reminds me of when Dick got sick for the first time while with us...”

A light of recognition ignited in Bruce’s eyes, he knew exactly what you were talking about.

Bruce only had fond memories of when he was sick and his mom and dad would take care of him.

He thought they were the best, wether they’d hold a “barf-bucket” for him, or stay up all night because he was too feverish...

What he never realized though, is that having a sick child was actually absolutely terrifying ! Bruce often felt sick himself, when the kids were ill.....ah, but nothing ever beats those first time each of them got sick.

DICK

Dick wasn't as young as Thomas, when he first came into your life. None of them were. But he was still a cute little bean, your baby.

Eight years old, and oh so sweet and nice and cute and you could just squish his little cheeks all day (albeit from the few outburst of anger at times, but hey, he was but a child, every kid throw tantrum from times to times).

He had been living with you and Bruce in the Manor for the past six months, when you had your first fright, and realized that being a parent meant being worried about your kid's well being for the rest of your days

Dick was definitely a tiny kid when he came in your life. He was rather short, only having a growth spurt when he was around 14/15. Barbara Gordon used to tease him to no end about this, up until he finally caught up with her and ended up being taller.

But yes, his small stature for his age, maybe made you baby him even more than the others, sometimes.

Ah. That first time little Dick Grayson was sick at Wayne Manor.

You. Freaked. The. Fuck. OUT.

You and Bruce, both.

Coincidentally, Dick became ill ON THE ONLY FEW DAYS OFF ALFRED WOULD TAKE A YEAR !!

Every year, for a theater festival, Alfred would take off to his homeland, to England, in London to be exact, for but a few days.

The three of you were in the batcave. Bruce was getting ready to go out, while you were on the bat computer and Dick was training on the side, doing some acrobatics on the trampoline Bruce installed.

And then he came to you, pulling on your sleeve, and he was so pale...

“I don’t feel too well.”

He said, right before throwing up for a few way too long seconds, as tears welled up in his eyes...it was never nice to throw up, and once again, no matter how mature he acted, you were reminded that Dick was but an eight year old child.

But he wasn’t only crying because throwing up fucking sucked. He was also crying because he thought you were going to be mad at him.

You reassured him, as you cleaned his little face up, and Bruce (who looked quite green himself...later on, you’d discover than when his kids or you were sick, he felt sick too...quite a strong reaction, really) carried him upstairs.

You were frantically googling how to take care of a sick child, as Bruce stayed with Dick, holding a bark bucket to his face, and drawing soothing circles on his back with his hand.

The panic dumbed the both of you down. It seemed like you couldn’t think, as you tried to make Dick as comfortable as he could.

You could feel your anxiety blowing through the roof, and knew that Bruce was close to have a panic attack himself (he was prone to them, although you and Alfred were the only one who knew).

You didn’t know what was worst, the fact he was sick and had no idea what you were supposed to do, or how much Dick was sobbing and apologizing.

“Should we call Dr. Thompkins ?”

“I don’t know her number, Alfred is the one that calls usually...”

“Should we take him there then ?”

“I don’t know, Alfred is-”

This went on for a little bit, as Dick was throwing up and crying. Saying “sorry !” every two seconds. But...Instinctively, Bruce was trying to soothe him with those warm pats on his back. And you were caressing his hair, empathetic. And...

You decided to not go to the doctor today, Dick was sick, but not sick enough to take him to an emergency. And in Gotham ? Leslie was needed for a lot, especially in evenings like this.

“Alfred um, gives me flat soda when I have a stomach ache ?”

“On it !”

You say, bolting on your feet and running to the kitchen, taking a cola and opening it up. Meanwhile, Dick’s fit calmed down, and he seemed to instantly feel better as he probably threw everything he needed to up...

He seemed content, cuddling against Bruce as the man was softly patting his back in small circles, and using his other hand to hold his head delicately.

You and Bruce were definitely not experienced parents yet, and it showed.

It showed by those first few minutes of utter panic, as your child got suddenly sick. And it showed as how you instantly just thought of calling Alfred...

That day, you both realized though, that you couldn’t always rely on the butler when it came to raising your son. For situations exactly like that one.

Both you and Bruce were still young, and scared to make mistakes but..You had to try. And you had to keep a cool head. Your motherly instinct kicked in.

It was so odd, seeing the big bad bat, wearing his costume without the cowl on (he didn’t have time to take it off as he rushed upstairs with the boy in his arms), looking so worried...

Bruce was so pale, and you could see that in a way, he felt his son’s pain too...Which just made your head click, and take action.

“Ok, ok we can do this. Keep the barf bucket close, let’s wait for the soda to get flat, and um...let’s try to distract him. A movie, perhaps ?”

Dick nodded, and although he wasn’t throwing up anymore, he seemed too weak to stand up (or maybe he was faking, could be, honestly, with that one...doesn’t matter) so Bruce carried him again.

And it was a sight. Bruce was a tall man. And Dick was a very small kid.

It was cute. and in that moment...In that moment it felt like you both suddenly realized what it meant, to be a parent.

Bruce, holding his son in his arms, feeling the little one’s heartbeat and slowed breath as he was kinda nodding off...was this how his own father felt, when holding him ? It was nice. It was a surge of pure love, and knowing that he would die for that kid if he had to. Hell, he would burn the whole world, for that kid.

It was so odd. The situation wasn’t that crazy, Dick probably just ate something bad, and with the trampoline and all the jumping around...he got sick.

As a child, you had those rapid sick moments of having a bad stomach ache, which would turn into throwing up, to then feel better. Those sudden moments when your own parents would take care of you...

Ah. You hadn’t realized how much worry being a parent would bring. Bruce didn’t either. You guys adopting Dick felt like an obvious thing to do. Felt like it was meant to be...

But it wasn’t just yet, that you felt like a mom. Or a dad.

It took some time to build. Just like it took time for Dick to call you “mom” and “dad”. And in that moment, as your kid (yes, your kid) was sick, that was it...

Finally. Yes. That was it.

You were a mom.

Bruce was a dad.

Dick was your son.

Of course you panicked as he suddenly got sick. But now, it was in your hand to properly take care of him. And thus started the first ritual you’d ever make with one of your children.

Dick, when sick, liked chicken noodle soups. Made by you. He liked cuddles, up until he turned 12 or 13, then he acted as if he was too grown up for them. This eventually stopped when he turned 19, not long after Jason’s death...He regressed back to a little boy in some ways, and needed you. And Bruce.

You’d often drive to Bludhaven just to give him chicken noodle soup and sprite, when he got sick. Even as he grew older and older...He loved it. No one could ever beat his mom babying him, when he felt under the weather.

JASON

"Hey buddy, are you ok ?”

“Yes, yes I’m ok mom.”

He smiles at you sweetly, his eyes half-closed, and clearly still relishing in the fact that he can finally call someone “mom”. But this happiness he felt whenever he realized he was finally safe, and had a home, was oddly dimmed, this morning.

“Are you su-OH MY GOD !”

Your hand is burning, as you lay it on his forehead.

He’s burning up !

“Hey wow hey, kiddo, come here, you’re not feeling well are you ?”

But Jason shakes his head, and says :

“No I’m good. Just tired, but I’ll wake up soon.”

He smiled again, but it felt all wrong.

Of course, you didn’t take his words for it, even if you knew Jason wasn’t a liar. But the fact spoke for themselves, your kid was NOT alright. No matter what he was saying.

Turned out, you were definitely right. He really wasn’t alright.

In fact, Jason had...pneumonia. A bad case of it. That he probably caught when he was playing earlier that day, in the snow, with Bruce, staying out up until his lips were blue and he was soaking wet !! Bruce could just never resist him, and didn’t have the heart to say “no” when the kid kept asking on playing more...

He dearly regretted it. But you reassured him, this wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t.

You rushed to the hospital, Bruce holding a tiny little Jason wrapped tight in a few warm blankets. And the doctor confirmed you made the right call, taking him to the ER.

It wasn’t like with Dick, where it was obvious the boy had a mild sickness. No. Jason really looked bad, and ready to drop.

You and Bruce let once again your parental instincts kick in and...It was the right call.

When Jason woke up, he let out a string of apologies and you realized...You realized the kid was terrified you wouldn’t want him anymore if he bothered you too much. Was scared to death that you’d want to take him back where you found him, that you’d give up on him.

His real life father bolted at the first signs of troubles. His mother was a drug addict for whom he was never good enough to try and get cleaned up.

He was abandoned, over and over again along his short life and...he was absolutely terrified that if he was too much of a nuisance to you two, you and Bruce would leave him as well. That you wouldn’t bother.

And it broke your hearts.

Softly, when Jason finally got better, after a few days of utter nightmare for you and Bruce, you took him home. He still needed some rest, as he was a little sick, so you tucked him comfortably in his bed and finally, you told him :

“From now on, you promise me to tell us when you don’t feel ok ? Wether you think it’ll bother us or not. You will never bother us, little buddy, ok ?”

“Ok”, Jason said, unsure.

“What do I have to say or do, to convince you you’ll never be a nuisance to us ?”

The question took Jason by surprise, and he wasn’t quite sure of what to say. In his feverish state anyway, he had a hard time thinking. He heard himself say :

“Stay with me ?”

“Of course. Always little one, always.”

And as he softly drifted to sleep, feeling the cold and soothing towel you would wet over and over again to put on his forehead, he heard you hum a song from your childhood, that would become a song always sure to put him to sleep.

He was out, when Bruce said : “I’ll stay home tonight.” A shame, really. Because maybe, maybe if he heard that the Batman was going to skip patrol just to keep an eye on him...Then he’d know he would never bother him. Ever.

That he would forever hold a dear, prime place in his heart.

Jason woke up the next morning, and found you and Bruce asleep on the floor, right next to his bed. You were still holding a towel that had long since dried up, and one of Bruce’s hand was clutched tightly on your shirt.

The basin full of cold water laying on his bed side table was almost empty. Jason smiled.

He felt better after a few hours of good sleep, and slowly got out of the blankets, pulling them with him, to then lay down next to you two, throwing the thick quilt over all of you.

Later that day, Alfred found the three of you all cuddled up. He snatched a picture. Picture that was framed, amongst some of your favorite of your children, in your office. And in Bruce’s.

The way you sung him to sleep when he was sick...When he died, it was the last thing he thought about. When he saw the bomb would explose before Bruce could save him.

He thought of how soothing it was, to be taken care of by you. And your humming voice rung in his ears, as he realized he was going to die. Right there.

Oh. Oh he wished he could be a little sick eight years old again, forget all his worries, and just fall asleep with the sound of your voice in his ears, while his dad would hold the both of you in his arms...

TIM

“Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, go back to bed this instant !”

Tim was the most difficult one, when he had a fever. He was a bit of a workaholic (like father like son ?), and always wanted to help. He hated being too sick because then he felt useless.

Your boy just wanted so much to be there for everyone, that he often forgot himself in the process and...yes.

His first real fever/sickness was punctuated by you constantly trying to get him back into bed.

You almost never even knew Tim was sick !

The boy was so used to taking care of himself, that he tried to handle everything on his own. He even took an appointment to the doctor himself ! But then, before having the chance to go there, he passed out in school, which resulted in a call from his principal that ended in Bruce almost having a heart attack.

You understood him of course. It wasn’t really a nice feeling to be called out during a business meeting to have someone tell you your son passed out in school !

It was just a little flu, but the fever and lack of sleep got the best of him.

Bruce didn’t even tell anyone where he was going, as he rushed to the school. You met him there, as he was walking out of the building, with a little sleepy Tim in his arms.

“I can walk, I swear I can walk.”

The boy was saying, yet his head was on his dad’s shoulder, and the up and down bobble of Bruce’s walk was clearly putting him to sleep.

Your husband settled your son in the car, and drove home.

“He was trying to convince me he could finish his school day, and that he had a group work today and didn’t want to let his friends down...”

“Sounds like Tim alright...”

You said, looking back at his sleeping form in the back seat.

Bruce nods, but you could see something was on his mind. You always knew, when something was on his mind. Brushing a few fingers on his cheeks, you ask :

“What is it, my Bruce ?”

His eyes are on the road, of course. But he flicks them quickly to you, and he knows. He knows he can’t lie to you, or get away with telling you half-truth.

You’ll know, if he’s not really telling you what has been worrying him. He takes a deep breath and, with a small voice says :

“Is this...my fault ?”

At first, you don’t understand, and you say :

“I’m pretty sure it’s because that boy never wears a damn sweater, and we’re in Gotham in the middle of Winter haha.”

But then...Then you realize what he means.

He’s talking about the fact that Tim always seem to overcompensate for something. Always seem to want to be there for everyone, forgetting sometimes he’s just a ten years old boy.

Tim was the only one out of his siblings that became Robin for no personal reason, but just because he loved Batman and wanted to help him. Just because he wanted to help people.

He didn’t have a tragic backstory (although he unfortunately got one later on...), he didn’t have a reason to become Robin, other than his good nature and really wanting to help...

And Bruce let him. Allowed him to do this. Even after what happened to Jason, he let Tim sneak in your life and become Robin.

You’d argue that Tim didn’t leave you guys much of a choice, and sort of had a “well I’m gonna help you no matter what, deal with it” sort of attitude. But you understood your husband’s worries.

He was afraid that he was the one that made him that way. That it was because of him, that Tim worked his health off.

“Oh, Bruce, my Heart...No. No it’s not your fault. It’s just how this amazing little boy is wired. I actually think that thanks to you, he’s more focused and taken care of. The gods can only imagine what Tim Drake would’ve done if he hadn’t been trained by Batman himself...If you said “no” to him pestering you about becoming your Robin, he would’ve taken it upon himself to go out there anyway. And then...I can only imagine what would’ve happened. So no. No it’s not your fault. It’s just...how he is. He reminds me of you a lot, actually. And I’m so, so glad he managed to convince you...Couldn’t imagine my life without that little one in it. Even if he does give me grief often, overworking like that. But it’s not your fault. It’s not. On the contrary.”

It took you a while, to convince Bruce he didn’t create Tim the way he sort-of created Dick and Jason. But you managed to, as you always did. You could be very convincing. Plus, the boy helped. It was clear his dedication came from himself mainly, that he was just born this way.

Too clever and smart for his own good, destined to be a Robin...and maybe a Batman, one day ?

Yes. Tim was the only one that wasn’t in it for himself. For personal reasons. He just wanted to help...

But after that first time he got sick, he understood that sometimes, it was ok to rely on you or his die. That in fact, he would gladly do so !

That day, Bruce carried him to his bed, even as the boy protested he was alright. Finally, you’ve had enough and ended up sort of lecturing him...gently.

“You need to rest, sometimes, ok ? If it’s too much, if you’re too tired, physically AND mentally, you need to take a few steps back...and let others take care of things, and of you. Ok ?”

“But-”

“No buts Timmy. It’s important. If something bad happens to you because you’ve been ignoring your own body, your own self...What will happen to those you want to help ? In order to continue what you’re doing, you need to take some pauses. Like right now. You are sick. You passed out in school. So...It’s gatorade and crackers time.”

Gatorade and crackers.

Tim’s favorite drinks and food.

Gatorade and crackers.

Two things that were rarely found in Wayne Manor. You always tried to give healthy balanced meals to your kids. Especially to Tim, who had the opposite of a balanced diet when he came into your lives (the fact he often had to take care of himself as his parents were too busy meant he often chose his own food...and of course he’d rather have ice cream than broccolis).

But the fact that you were now giving him Gatorade and crackers meant...Meant that Dick was right. When they were sick, you would do anything to make them comfortable.

Coincidentally though, Gatorade and saltines helped out, when one was sick.

On that first time he became sick after starting to live with you, Tim found that it was ok, to relax sometimes. That he didn’t have to waste his life away 24/7 for others, and that he could enjoy some down time.

It only happened when he was sick, to your great dismal. You constantly tried to convince him to take a break (just like you did with Bruce...but although it worked with your husband, especially as he got older, Tim was just very stubborn, and wanted to help too damn much). You even had to trick him into it often.

So although you hated seeing your kids in any kind of pain, you were almost glad when Tim got sick. Because it meant he would really take care of himself. Or rather, letting you take care of him.

That first time he got sick, he ended up leaving his bed...only to go cuddle up in yours and Bruce’s, and enjoy some down time. And learn that, it was ok, to take care of himself.

Hell. You’d hammer this fact in his head if you had to.

Gatorade and crackers, while watching movies in yours and Bruce’s big bed, was why Tim thought that in the end, being sick wasn’t too bad.

Extra points if you two were in the bed with him, snuggled up all nice, safe and warm.

CASSANDRA

Cassandra didn’t like TV, when she was sick. Instead, she liked you reading her stories better. And you’d read to her all day, if need be. Switching from time to time with your husband.

She had trouble sleeping, even when sick and weak. Listening to your voices telling her all those wonderful stories was soothing beyond measure.

The first time she fell sick while at Wayne Manor though, her first reflex was to go hide. Because when she used to be sick with the man who called himself her “father”, with David Cain (that scum), he used to get so mad at her.

As if it was her fault, she became sick.

So she’d run away. Curl into a ball. Wait for it to pass. And then face him, healthy again. It was easier to confront him when she was ok...So she’d rather run away and face the consequences, rather than stay around him while sick.

And so, her first instinct was to go hide.

She went to the attic, and did what she used to do.

Curled up in a ball, in front of the round window. And wait. Alone.

It’s Bruce, who found her. He was casually checking the GPS he put on his children. They still thought they got rid of it, the sweet kids...but as if he’d only implant one. He knew it wasn’t really ethical, but after what happened to Jason, he wasn’t willing to take any chances.

During the day, he would check a few times, and usually during boring office meeting, to see where they were. That day, he saw Cass in the Manor’s attic, and didn’t think much of it. Cass was a curious one, who took it upon herself to explore everything in the house.

But when he came home, and she was still there, his guts told him something was wrong...He rushed to the attic, and found her.

And his heart stopped, when he saw her laid on the floor, curled up into a ball, and softly moaning because she had a bad fever.

She wasn’t asleep, even in this state she fought sleep, afraid to have nightmares (and while having a fever, she couldn’t just wake up to escape them...).

Bruce carried her out of the attic, holding her tight in his arms, his heart bleeding as he realized why she isolated herself while she needed help.

People often misjudged Bruce on that matter. Saw him as a cold harsh man. But oh; oh if it was touching his children or you...He would feel so much. Too much, even. He just loved you all to death.

When he brought her downstairs, and you saw her, you immediately entered “mom mode” and fussed over her, getting everything you needed to make her comfortable...but as it turned out, all she wanted was to feel yours and Bruce’s presence.

To hear your voice, and feel you were there.

And so without thinking, you picked up a book and started to read it to her. And you could feel her relax, let her guard down. A rare occasion she would truly let herself be chill.

The first time Cass got sick while living under your roof, her first instinct was to hide and lick her wounds all by herself. It was to lie on the floor and hope it would pass fast. It was-

The second time she felt under the weather, she immediately went to you. It was early in the morning. And it’s only thanks to Bruce’s amazing reflexes that Cass didn’t throw up all over you two, as he pulled you away from her just in time...To then take care of changing the sheets, while you held your daughter’s hair as she threw up in the master’s bathroom’s toilet.

And then Bruce went downstairs to take a “barf-bowl”, the one actually, that her mom used to take for him...ah. He always used that one for all the kids. Call it nostalgia.

The second time Cass got sick while under your care, she didn’t hide. She wasn’t dreading it, even as she got even sicker than the first time. No.

No because now, she knew she’d always find you so you could take care of her. Ah, and Dick, Jason and Tim gave her many tricks to fake being sick and have you all for herself...

DUKE

Duke was older than any of your kids were when he started to live at the Manor. He was already in his teens. He wasn't a tiny bean like the rest of them, when he came in your family...

And yet. Yet the first time he fell sick, you babied the hell out of him.

So what if he was sixteen ? Doesn’t mean he couldn’t have all the care a child should have when he wasn’t feeling well.

And so you were ready to take care of him, when Alfred came to you this morning to tell you “Master Duke” wasn’t feeling well.

However, when you got to his room and indeed saw he was feverish, he refused to talk to you and just wanted to be alone.

And then it hits you.

Duke was sixteen.

He wasn’t a lost little eight years old boy who had just lost his parents, or never even had parents. He wasn’t a child in dear need of love and cuddles.

He was sixteen.

And he wanted HIS mom.

What happened to his parents was too fresh.

And they weren’t dead...In a way, seeing them lose their mind with no chance of ever getting better was worst.

Duke was sixteen.

And there, sick, all he wanted was to have his mom’s care again.

Yes. Duke’s case was different than all your other children. Because his parents were still there. Because he was older. Because everything was so fresh, at the moment.

In time, in the coming years, he would come to feel just like his siblings did. But right there, just mere few weeks after he moved to the manor, and mere few days after Bruce helped him find his parents...

Duke was homesick.

He missed his dad. But he missed his mom even more. Probably for the same reason that your kids loved to have you around so much, when they were sick...

There was no doubt in your mind that Duke’s mom was amazing at taking care of him when he felt ill. She probably had her own tricks, to make him feel better. Tricks that you did not know...And so you asked.

You simply asked.

Because you wanted to make him feel better. You wanted to be there for him, even if right now, he didn’t want you around.

If he truly wanted to be left alone, you’d leave some medicine and leave him be. But your guts were telling you he was just sad, and the sad was translated into him pretending he wanted to be alone.

Your guts were right.

Duke wanted his mom. Yes. But he also didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts, right now...He just didn’t want to hurt your feelings. He knew how motherly you could be. He didn’t want to project his mother on you. He-

“What do you need ?”

You asked, and the answer came to his mind instantly. He spoke before even realizing he was doing it :

“My mom used to make a perfect drink of warm water, honey, ginger and lemon.”

And as you tried to recreate his mom’s drink, never quite getting the measurements right (you could see on his face it wasn’t like his mother’s), Duke slowly felt better.

Because...Because yes. He missed his mom. And the way she took care of him. Especially on sick days. But...It wasn't everywhere that one could find someone who cared so much, that they were willing to spend their entire day trying to get a drink right, right ?

And when Bruce came home, and asked him if he was “alright champ ?”, Duke realized one thing...

Yes. He wanted his parents. Yes, he missed them like hell. Yes, his sick days would never be the same...

But he wasn’t alone. As Bruce joined in trying to make the perfect drink of “warm water, honey, ginger and lemon”, Duke came to the realization that his situation wasn’t as desperate as he thought, this morning, when he woke up feeling under the weather, and without his mom to take care of him.

Because you were still there. And were planning on staying there for a very long time. Of course, you could never replace his mom. Just like you never replaced Dick’s, or Damian’s...You just, became another mom to them.

And Duke...That first day of being sick in Wayne Manor ? He felt like he was finally willing to let you become his second mom. To let Bruce become a father figure. To have this found family, in this tough times...

Sick days were never the same than when he was a little kid and still had his parents around.

Duke was sixteen. Growing up wasn’t easy, especially after what he went through. And sick days would never be the same...But it didn’t mean they wouldn’t be nice, as he slowly let you and Bruce, and his newfound siblings, take care of him.

Yes. To have this found family in this tough times was quite a joy.

DAMIAN

To the surprise of many, Damian actually didn’t resist too much being taken care of when he first got sick under your roof.

Damian actually loved being sick, because it meant snuggles time with you, safe and warm under a blanket on the couch, watching his favorite movies. It meant your soothing fingers running in his hair, making him feel peaceful and relaxed.

It also meant that he’d have you all for himself.

With five siblings (with a sixth one on the way), it wasn’t always the easiest thing ever, to get his mom only for himself. Yes. He loved to be sick, and babied by you.

The first time he got a bad fever, a few months after he arrived at the Manor, he dreaded falling ill because...

Well. Because he was raised in the League of Assassins. And being sick, no matter how much, was not considered reason enough to not train. To not do what his grandfather told him to do.

He used to work through the sickness. Even if he felt like passing out (and he did, a few times, which earned him hours from his sleeping time taken away...).

So Damian hated being sick.

Until. Until he became ill for the first time when living with you.

By that time, you and Bruce had learned how to manage a sick child. And although Bruce still felt physically ill too whenever his children were, he managed nowadays to be somewhat ok and take care of them without wincing.

It happened not long after Damian started to call you “mom”. He fell asleep while you guys were watching a movie and...it’s what instantly told you something was wrong.

No matter how bad a movie would be, Damian would NEVER fall asleep in the middle of it.

Ah, and sure enough, as you checked his temperature you realized he had a bad fever. And so you carried him to his room, tucking him into bed.

He woke up as you were doing that, and looked at you, utterly surprised. What was going on ?

“Get some rest buddy, you’ll feel better soon.”

You said, smiling. And at first, Damian didn’t understand. He had been so conditioned in ignoring his own well being, that he didn't realize something was wrong with him. But then, you laid a hand on his forehead, and said :

“Ah it doesn’t seem like it’s such a big sickness, I’ll go get you some medicinal tea and...What do you want to eat ? If you’re hungry ? Maybe you’re not, sometimes when I’m sick I just don’t wanna eat anything.”

Sick ? Was he...Sick ? Yes. He was. But it was so mild, that he didn’t even think he needed to rest. Or...Didn’t he ? He was just so used to still work even when sick.

“What-What about school ?”

He asked, and he was surprised his voice sounded so weak and tired. Was he always feeling like that when sick ? Yes. But...Something was different.

And then it hit him.

“I think it’s ok if you skip a few days’ buddy.”

The difference was that, when he was sick while amongst the League of Assassins, he was always terrified that his grandfather got tired of him and send him hitmen (it happened a lot before, while he was sleeping for example, and it always happened to test him, test if he was ready, and willing to kill and ask questions after). That he didn’t find him useful enough.

While here, with you, he felt safe. He felt loved. He felt warm.

And so his body wasn’t in a “fight or flight” state. He was just...sick. As any normal kid would be.

When with the Al’Ghul, he somehow managed to convince himself to keep going, to work through the pain. And oh, it’s wonders, what the brain can do when you really want to.

But here. Here he didn’t have to act tough. To keep walking or he’d end up dead. Here. Here he was safe. And loved.

So he felt the sickness, the fever. He felt it’s true effect.

“What do sick people eat ?”

He asked, and at first you didn’t think much of it. You started to tell him Dick loved chicken noodle soup while Tim preferred saltines. Cass would never eat much, neither would Jason, but they’d always say yes to some flat sodas.

He seemed unsure of what he wanted, so you asked him a simple question :

“What do you usually eat, when you’re sick ?”

It was such an innocent question. But it made him almost cry.

Usually ?

Usually...

“Well...”

He hesitates, and you sense there’s more to things than you originally thought. Finally, after looking at your encouraging smile, he says :

“When I was sick before, I still had to train. And then they’d tell me I’m weak.”

In one sentence, you understand everything. And you could punch yourself for ever thinking that he got taken care of when sick. And then the next second, you hold him tight in your arms, and once again, Damian is surprised.

But pleased. He had been touched starve most of his life, this was nice.

“My poor baby...”

He didn’t even complain you called him a baby, and let you hug him. And then...Then you spend time with him, trying to find the perfect ritual to make him feel better while he was sick.

You had such rituals with everyone. Formed on the day they first got sick. Damian needed his own thing too...

Thus was created the “couch nest”.

It involved covering the living room’s couch with at LEAST one quilt, then Damian would bring the pillows (and maybe some stuffs animals, or even real ones...Titus often sneaked in) from his bed, and you would tuck him in with one or two more quilts.

He would then spend the rest of the time watching TV and movies with you. Or with his siblings. Or his dad.

And it was so comforting, to be wrapped up like that. Almost like laying in a hug. It made him feel like he was perpetually held by you.

Damian used to hate being sick. Because he hated being weak.

But this changed. Just like he changed. Thanks to his family. Thanks to you.

Now, just like Tim, he almost loved, being sick...

************

“This sort of reminds me of that time Dick got his first fever...”

You were thinking about all those terrible, yet sweet days, of your children being sick, as you walked up the stairs to your house, a hand tightly weaved around your husband’s.

Bruce was holding a sleeping Thomas in one of his arm (the boy was so small he could even fit in one of his hand, really), and felt relaxed. Here. With his son, and his wife, the love of his life. And with the knowledge than when you’d push the door to your house open you’d-

“Father ! Mom ! How is he !?”

Both you and Bruce quickly put a finger on your lips, and Damian throws his hands on his mouth, regretting his scream. But he was just so worried.

He couldn’t come with you to the doctor’s office as he had school (plus you were pretty sure he would’ve been 100 times worst than Bruce, trying to stop Leslie by any means necessary), and had been thinking about his little brother’s first shot all day.

Damian, just like his dad, wasn’t very fond of shots. He hated that his brother (wether the youngest one, or one of the older one, really) had to go through this.

It was always silly to you, how both Bruce and Damian, who’ve been through much worst than small little shots, hated those so much...Silly, and very cute.

Damian was looking critically at his brother, checking him silently for any signs of distress, for any “mistakes” Doctor Thompkins would’ve done, and seemed satisfied that the boy was fast asleep in his dad’s arm.

And Bruce...Bruce was smiling.

He felt so relaxed. And happy.

When you pushed that door, it opened on Damian rushing to the two of you, worried about his little brother. But it also opened on Alfred, who baked some comforting food, and brewed some tea for you, knowing how hard on you this sort of things could be (and yet how you insisted to take your kids to the doctor yourself, and not let Alfred do it, because you wanted to be there for them).

It opened on Cass smiling, and ruffling Damian’s hair as to reassure him.

It opened on Tim, who took a small break from his college study to come down and spend some times with his siblings, ready to relax in front of a movie (it was family movie night !).

It opened on Duke, who’s hands were full of DVDs, and who was excited to try to convince y’all to watch “Ninja and Pirates 6″, or something of the like.

It opened on Jason, who was smiling in such a way that no one would ever know all the things he went through. And it made Bruce feel all nice and warm inside...even as the little shit mimicked him having to take a shot. Squirming and looking as if he was about to faint. And ah, he hated to admit it, but his boy was impersonating him really well.

And it opened on Dick. His first kid. The one that, one day when getting sick, was who made Bruce realize what it truly meant to be a dad. The one who knew the best how much he hated seeing any of his children sick, or getting shots.

On Dick, who was laughing really hard at Jason’s impersonation, and giving him feedbacks about what to improve to make it even better.

The door opened on his family.

And as the ruckus surrounding him woke Thomas, as Damian yelled at Jason and Dick for being so loud, and as Bruce’s eyes fell on you, while you looked at your little tribe with love in your eyes...

Bruce felt relaxed. And so, so, oh so happy.

________________________________________________

This is yet another one of those stories I’ve been posting a lot lately, that do not take me very long to write and in which I don’t put that much effort, but that I really enjoy writing nonetheless ^^. And I hope you enjoyed reading it :), I’m nervous actually this isn’t up to your standards hahaha...Yes, hope you still liked it. Don’t hesitate to leave a little feedback etc etc ^^. Thanks in advance !

See you soon with something much longer and on which I spend a lot of time working ;).

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dayseternal-blog · 3 years

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Summary: Hinata gives Naruto candy on Valentine’s, and he develops a crush early-on. An Alpha/Omega fic.

Pairing: Hyuuga Hinata/Uzumaki Naruto

Written for @naruto-smut-monday 2021 - February Prompt: Sweet as Candy / Love Bites.

(This is many months late, so I carry no expectations for the event moderators to reblog this 😓)

Rated E for really explicit, kinky smut!

Sweet and rich.

Her usual milkiness pitching lower and bolder.

The familiar scent of her heat fills his lungs with each gasp against her lips, tugging at his heart, enticing each shove of himself into her soft folds.

She breaks the kiss with a tortured moan that rolls through his heightened, rutting senses. Her face turns, exposing the broken, shining gland at her neck once more.

His mark still looks fresh from their aggressive first round. He had awoken from their fitful rest with Hinata eagerly sucking him off in the dead of the night. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when they finally fell back asleep in cuddling, knotted exhaustion.

His tongue catches the liquid caramel at her gland, just as sweet as her scent, and gently, he gnaws into her sensitive neck to release more for him to drink as she squeals, slick flowing around his swelling piece, nudging deeper and deeper.

“Hinata…” Clawing pleasure skips along his skin, shimmering in his veins with each suck against the abused claim.

“Ah...Alpha...”

He doesn’t need her breathy Omega voice to encourage him, not when her snug passage is readily opening up to accommodate his urgent thrusts, his hands gripping her flared hips still as he impales her hurriedly until she’s wrapped entirely around his knot, stuck and breathlessly screaming for him. “You wanted this again, yeah?”

She nods enthusiastically, the bob of her chin frantic like the shake of her large breasts. Tears of pain and pleasure glint along her dark lashes and pink cheeks, her little tongue teases him as she gasps from puffy lips, tracks of his saliva and her leaking scent gland glimmer in the mid-morning sun. His usually proper and demure wife is a beautiful mess on his rigid cock, soaking wet for him, the excellent sight filling his inner, lusting beast with possessive pride.

“Look at you,” he groans, slipping mindlessly into his secondary gender, “my pretty Omega, living for my knotted dick, acting all cute for my cum.”

She wiggles beneath him with an affectionate gasp, and he’s grinding hard into her until her glassy eyes squeeze shut, more tears escaping.

He leans down to lick each one up, the saltiness making him grab at the top of her head to turn her intoxicating gland toward him so that he can drink her in, her heady, rich taste invading his senses.

She squirms beneath him.

Her legs squeeze at his waist.

Blunt fingernails pinch into his back.

Tight nipples push into his chest and smooth stomach arches into him.

Plush flesh clenches around his knot, coaxing his release. Her hot breath ghosts over his bicep, prickling his skin with a begging, “Please, please, please-”

And he’s coming before he can even consider holding back, throbbing into her humidity, smearing his own broken gland against her lips until she’s sucking everything out of him, his whole body and soul yearning, pulsing into her welcoming, soft comfort. Take all of me.

For only a blissful second, his mind feels empty, his Alpha terribly pleased and sated.

She paints a small strip with her tongue at his gland, and the beast reawakens.

He’s fucking his cum into her, stirring into her weeping flesh, his knot plugging her up so that she’s awfully sloppy around his dick, a rumbling in his chest as she clings to him, her face buried in his neck, her warm tongue still licking cutely at him. “Hinata, you need more, don’t you?”

“Naruto-kun,” she sighs, “mhmm…”

So this is what it’s like to share their heat and rut, their tempos finally coinciding after their first bonded year.

He’d imagined it was never-ending sex, the idea both arousing and concerning, but experiencing it leaves him trembling with honest delight and, more than anything else, sincere love. Of course, it’s an overwhelming desire to impregnate her, to make her whole body and life undeniably his, something that’s normal in his rut anyway, but with her very much unprotected body so willing and ready, so much slick to ease his knot into her over and over again without worry, it’s as if every part of them is shared, synced and in tune, eager to please and enjoy each other.

He can’t even begin to consider separating himself from her at the end of these five or so days, can’t at all recall what his daily life is like outside of their home.

Not when her hazy eyes are lowered in an expression of come-hither lust, all hints of his usual shy, reserved wife forgotten with his stiff piece warm and wet, pushing against her cervix. Her fingers dance over his arm muscles, massaging over the back of his shoulders, and tunneling into his hair.

He nudges his face into her neck, inhaling her scent deeply as new attraction rushes fast and hard into his knot, as if he hadn’t been excited the whole time.

“Fill me up, my love,” she whispers, her moist clit sliding at his groin, and that voice intones, breathier and lower, “my sweet Alpha.”

Shivers run up his spine, his hips straining at her more insistently, tight flesh tugging at his knot as he tries to ram himself deeper into her. Memories of his thick seed dribbling down her thighs from past ruts morph into images of her stomach swollen with their child. They’ve prepared for this week for a couple of months now after their last rut and heat nearly overlapped, only for one incredible day that convinced both of them they needed more in their marriage. After the nine day ordeal of caring for each other's needs, they had visited their doctors, Hinata had taken out her birth control, and then they had reviewed tips on self- and partner-care for acclimated bonds.

All their preparation is flying out the window of his mind now.

They’re supposed to clean up after this? The wet wipes seem completely unnecessary, and he lets her know he has no intention of using them. “Gonna cover you in my scent, no other Alpha will even dare to look at you.”

She nods, a lovely, dazed smile curling her kiss-swollen lips. Soft, agreeing moans soothe the aggression simmering low in his gut, turning his lust into appreciative hunger.

They’re supposed to eat that microwavable shit? Isn’t Hinata’s body enough for him? His hands sink into her fluffy tits, squeezing and playing, whetting his appetite with her delicious curves. And isn’t he enough? “Only going to feed you my knot, keep you full of cum. You can eat my hard dick whenever you want.”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes...” Adoring, pearly eyes gaze up at him even through her tortured gasps.

He smashes her into the bed, one hand clutching her round ass desperately as the other tangles into her hair. Her needy kisses are just as much tongue as his, their lips sucking on each other avidly.

Ecstasy slides through his veins, blooming over his mind, cocooning him in pleasant sensations, cum shooting out in eager twitches against hot, milking flesh.

He’s left panting into the pillow, the material doing little to stop her rich smell of satisfaction from drawing him back to lick at the abused flesh of his claim on her, her body shivering uncontrollably and enticingly beneath him, teasing his body and mind with the taste of her sweet, sweet dew.

Everything about her has always been sweet to him.

From her scent to her smile, her kiss, and her touch. The glow in her eyes, just for him, to her intimate voice.

The way she always tries to understand him and is there to support him.

He’s wondered if they were made for each other, the strength of their connection at times so overwhelming that he could cry.

They were taught in school that mating isn’t decided, not like some spiritual concept of soulmates, but that potential bonded relationships are cultivated carefully over time.

However, significant inclinations may form from way before either party presents.

He thinks he’s been inclined to her from the moment she handed him, a random elementary schoolmate in the hallway, not even in the same class as her, one of her extra giri chocolates on Valentine’s Day. She handed a couple of other boys she passed on the way an extra chocolate, too, but he didn’t care. He crushed on her fast and easily, his heart swayed by nearly any kind gesture from a girl. Having one more chocolate than his friends was something he bragged about right away in pretend nonchalance, saying that a girl from another class gave it especially to him.

His fleeting feelings might have ended there if he weren’t in her class the following year, if she hadn’t handed out giri chocolates again, if she hadn’t noticeably blushed pink and whispered, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Naruto-kun,” or if he hadn’t found out his little baggie of chocolates had one more heart-shaped piece than Sasuke’s baggie…it was a small win compared to all the unappreciated honmei chocolates Sasuke received, but Naruto took what he could get.

Maybe his little school crush would have ended there if she had stopped handing out giri chocolates to boys in intermediate school, the way most girls did when they started presenting, when she wore her skirt as long as was acceptable by school dress code, sweaters over her button-down uniform, and simple blue ribboned chokers to cover as much skin as possible, when the mystery of her designation tickled the back of his mind whenever she was near, but he had no way of knowing, especially with their sex education steering hard by-the-book on disease, protection, and, most of all, consent, rather than humoring their curiosities about individual designations and tell-tale personality traits.

He and the boys in their class still got giri chocolates from her despite how so many of them acted like annoying idiots, and he knew he wasn’t the only one who liked that thoughtful sweetness about her. He also knew he was the only one who had one more chocolate than the others, or, at least, one more than Kiba.

“Let me see,” he’d say mid-grab, stealing the bag from Kiba’s hand.

“What the fuck, why are you always trying to take mine, you have your own!”

His eyes strained to swiftly count the number of adorable handmade, heart-shaped chocolates through the dark purple plastic, her level of effort making even giri chocolates feel incredibly special. 5.

“They’re all the same every year, fucktard.” Kiba snatched it away. “But you better not have broken any.”

His bag, for the third year in a row, had 6, and his cheeks flushed with wonder, a self-satisfied grin breaking out. “I was just checking. It really is the same every year. Isn’t it great?” He popped a chocolate in his mouth, pushing back the overly gleeful thought that it could all mean something more than a coincidental mistake.

Their third, last year of intermediate school, he expected it. A bag of six chocolates, just for him. And with only her characteristic small, shy smile, she handed him his gift, and he grinned hugely to cover up his nerves. “Thanks, Hinata!”

She bowed her head and hurried to the next boy in the room.

And he counted. 6. His gaze flickered up to her back, wondering, the seed of his suspicions sprouting awfully strong. What if these chocolates are actually honmei? She’s just too shy-

His bag was ripped from his grip.

He whipped around, eyes wide, staring up at Kiba’s exuberant smile.

“I gotcha first this time!”

“Kiba!” he shouted, his arm swinging up, but Kiba pulled it back just in time. Scenarios flew through his mind, all of him humiliatingly chasing his friend around the classroom for a little bag of giri chocolates, and Naruto quickly decided to play it cool. “Give it back, man.”

Kiba ignored him, making an elaborate show of scrutinizing the bag. “I was just checking-ttebayo,” he mocked when he did a double-take. “Whaaat, you got 6?! That’s not fair!” He checked his own bag. “I only have 5!”

His heart stopped. His gaze flashed to Hinata.

She was staring at them.

Panicking, he turned away. “...Really?! Cool!” he spit out in feigned surprise. “Maybe she just doesn’t like you as much! Give it back before you break one.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. How could she like you more than me?” Kiba tossed the bag at him, and Naruto grabbed it harder than he should have, the chocolates knocking together in his stressed hand.

Blood rushed hot through his system, but he was desperately trying to appear unaffected. “You probably smell like dog!”

Kiba clicked his tongue at that, then looked directly at the girl in question. “Hinata, do I smell like dog??!”

Naruto hesitated to look at her, but when he finally did, she was already falling to the floor.

The blame ultimately fell on Kiba for her fainting incident, since he asked such an obtrusive question like that, but somehow, Naruto couldn’t help but think it to be his fault, that he had failed some kind of test, messed up a secret game, and couldn’t protect something special that was only meant for him to know.

Wondering attraction maybe could have ended there, at the start of high school, when gossip about Sakura, pretty and sassy spitfire of a girl, and her rumored, unexpected Omega designation ran rampant around their grade level. The idea that someone so fiery and untouchable could be secretly emotional and clingy attracted many of the boys who were starting to show symptoms of presenting, such as starting to differentiate the scents of the girls in the class.

Though Naruto himself couldn’t smell anything from anyone, that didn’t stop him from imagining the athletic, rosy-haired girl, wondering what about her smell made her so desirable to some of the presenting boys… Whenever she was near, he focused his senses as much as he could, but nothing.

Hinata didn’t pass out giri chocolates that year to his great disappointment.

He shrugged it off, understanding that it’s seen by most as a childish or seemingly flirtatious tradition, that Kiba’s noisiness last year made her change her mind, that maybe his extra chocolate was a mistake of coincidence the last four years. He’d rather jump off the second-floor window than ask her if there was any meaning to it, so he decided to pay no mind to it, and he would have, but…

When she smelled like chocolate, sweet like a candy store, the next day, and he thought maybe she was a day late. Maybe she was still passing out chocolates to everyone, even though he couldn’t see any large bag, making him wonder if she had stuffed her sweater pockets and clothes full of chocolate. His temperature ran high, adrenaline racing through his heart whenever she walked even slightly in his direction, hoping for something from her that never came, and for days after, he was glaringly upset at how she definitely made chocolate, a whole lot of chocolate, and didn’t give him any.

Two months later, he began to understand that she just smelled like that, like she dumped chocolate perfume on her clothes, and some days just a dab, but either way it clouded his mind and made his stomach flip-flop anxiously, made him feel impatient and antsy beneath his skin, and he couldn’t take his irrational frustration anymore.

“Hinata, why do you always smell like that?” His tone was much more accusing than he meant it to be, but it was too late.

She was frozen a few paces between his desk and Ino’s, her angelically light eyes wide, her fair skin tinting pink as she looked back at him, and that chocolate smell amplifying with a strange tinge of citrusy unknowns. “...Huh?”

His face scrunched up in equal confusion at her seemingly innocent ignorance. “I don’t know, like, you smell really swee-”

Realization struck him hard before Sakura’s fist to the back of his head. “Naruto! What the hell do you think you’re asking her!”

“Ah fuck!” He clasped the back of his head and bowed on his desk in pain, partially to shield from any more hits, partially to hide his beet-red face.

Ino and Sakura were yelling at him, calling him a pervert and that they should report him, but his mind zeroed in on Hinata’s soft voice, asking him if he was okay, saying that she was completely fine, that it’s really okay and that she wasn’t going to report him.

His heart was pumping rapidfire, embarrassed heat crawling like a poison through his veins until he could swear he was hot to the touch, even the tips of his ears felt like they were burning, and he tried to hunch his shoulders to hide it.

He had been scenting her.

Everyday for the past two months.

Focusing on hers alone as if she was the only girl in the room.

Yet he hadn’t realized it at all.

If his feelings could have changed after that, it would’ve taken a whole lot of rejection on her end. She easily consumed his thoughts even when he didn’t want to think about her. Even when he actively tried to find someone else’s scent to enjoy, like Ino’s spring and fresh floral or Sakura’s berry and soda pop, but he ended up forgetting them with her near, ended up fazing into some kind of sparkling clarity, fuzzy around the edges yet Hinata in the center of it all, his eyes settling onto the wide ribbon peeking over her uniform’s collar as he sat at the back of the classroom and her in the front.

He noticed every time she fidgeted with the ribbon, he noticed how her scent strengthened into something darker and exciting on various occasions, but then how she’d be gone from school for days at a time, just like some of the other matured girls and boys. Her extended absence after such impactful scents left him utterly bored and empty at school.

Then at home, he couldn’t contain his imagination, recalling her coloring scent, her fingers pressing over the choker at her hidden gland. What might she be doing right now? Maybe at this very moment, she was comforting herself in a nest of pillows and blankets, using toys to mimic his penetration, maybe calling his name as she writhed in heat before passing out with an exhausted afterglow…?

The last Sports Festival of their high school careers saw lots of students pairing up. The adrenaline rush of the special competitions fueled love confessions every day up until the last moments of the final afternoon. He longed for a confession.

His eyes kept sliding toward her.

Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail throughout most of the festival, her simple white sports shirt and standard black shorts revealing her arms, legs, and the shape of her body.

Undeniably, he liked her. Despite not knowing either of their designations, despite rarely talking to her, he couldn’t stop admiring her perfection, his eyes capturing as much as he could commit to memory before he had to look away, so as not to stare.

But sometimes he wouldn’t look away fast enough, their eyes would awkwardly meet, and she’d blush and look away first. He’d focus determinedly somewhere else, yet inwardly, just as he always had, he’d wonder if there was any meaning in her looks, or if it was just coincidence, if those extra chocolates from their childhood were just coincidence, if he was just leading himself on in a sick and doomed game that he imagined all by himself.

He never got a confession.

But it seemed like Hinata did.

A snowy-haired boy from another class kept visiting her during breaks, talking to her from the sliding window between the hallway and the classroom, leaning over the sill to smile at her, obviously basking in her directed attention and the way she familiarly called him, “Toneri-kun.”

Silently jealous, all he could do was watch and listen, pretend to pay attention to the people around him and not his crush getting stolen away by some guy he could’ve sworn he had never seen before.

Three tedious weeks later, Toneri got bold and invited her out during lunch. As soon as she left the room, he stood up and followed after them, not even knowing exactly why he needed to dig his wound any deeper, only that he had to witness this himself, confirm the status of their relationship himself, otherwise he’d drive himself crazy in the classroom with speculation.

It was easy to follow from a distance. Her scent had long since invaded his memory. So what struck him first was the slightly sour notes marring her sweetness, kind of like before a class oral presentation.

She was anxious.

They stopped behind a school building, and he leaned against the wall around the corner, straining to hear their conversation.

“...Toneri-kun?”

Hinata’s voice was easy for him to pick up, and he didn’t question this realization, it was just further proof to him of his doomed infatuation.

“...I’m sorry, I tried,” she murmured.

Naruto assumed the pauses were when Toneri spoke, but they were all indistinct tones.

“I, I just don’t think...I can see you that way...I’m sorry...”

Everything in him began relaxing, the awful clenching around his heart suddenly released, and he collapsed to the ground in a crouch, not even actively trying to listen anymore.

“Because I...I like someone.”

His eyes shot open, adrenaline rushing at her words, and only one question ringing in his mind, Who?!

“I, I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that.”

Silence followed, and he started to back away, not wanting to get caught eavesdropping on what obviously was a sound rejection.

“Toneri-kun?...No, I, I, no-!” The panic was unmistakable, her sweetness drastically souring, and he was back at the corner, straining to understand what could possibly be going on now.

A whispered “Naruto-kun-”,

And he was around the corner running, shock exploding at seeing Toneri bent too close to her, nose at her neck, Hinata backed against the building wall. His body slammed into Toneri hard enough to make him fall to the ground.

“Hinata!” He looked at her, checking to see that her ribbon was still secure, that she appeared unharmed, but he felt like he was going to suffocate, air not making it past his throat, a building panic and disgust roaring loudly in his core that had him turning back around to direct this somewhere, his excessive anger pinpointing Toneri, red coloring his vision too fast for him to comprehend the confused expression on the splayed boy.

He jumped on him, his fist connecting with Toneri’s face fast and hard, the knock of his white head against the ground deeply satisfying his suddenly justified instincts, and he raised his fist again to drive his point home when his arm caught midair.

He tried to yank his arm free, but the unidentified grip only proved tighter, so he raised his non-dominant hand into a fist, ready to pound into this challenger who dared to scent and claim his chosen one.

Weight pushed into his chest, light eyes taking up his whole vision. “Naruto-kun! Stop!”

The cacophony in his mind silenced. A voice within responded viscerally, Omega.

“Naruto-kun.” Milky sweetness suddenly flooded him, beating back the flames within. Her head ducked into his chest as she clung to him. “I’m okay, I’m really okay, you need to stop, you hurt him!”

He blinked, suddenly outside of himself. He looked down to see Toneri shielding his face with his arms.

He stood immediately, clutching Hinata into his chest, and he backed away. Not knowing what to do or say, he wrapped his other arm around Hinata’s shoulders, turning them around, rushing them far from his crime.

He hovered near Hinata throughout the rest of the lunch break, soaking in her sweet scent, alternately trying to forget or make sense of his loss of control.

He didn’t have to wonder for long.

Toneri’s injury didn’t go unnoticed, and he was called into the Principal’s Office. Hinata was called in to confirm his side of the story, and then Naruto was sent to the counselor’s office.

He had been apparently so aggravated by the emotional incident that, for the first time and unknowingly, he had called on his inner Alpha into officially presenting. But his actions were still inexcusable by school rules.

Both he and Toneri were suspended for two weeks.

The school went wild over the drama. Even when he returned, whispered rumors of a “fight for dominance” and “claiming rights” circulated, and he couldn’t even think of approaching Hinata with such scandalous gossip surrounding them.

But sometimes, she’d tuck her hair back, or sweep the midnight strands over her shoulder, wide ribbon peeking over her shirt’s collar, wrapping her graceful, white neck in his view, then she’d look back at him, their gazes connecting for an exhilarating instant.

He didn’t need words or a confession. From her beckoning sweet scent to her affectionate looks, from the memory of her whispering his name for help and her Omega voice calling out to his Alpha, he knew that she returned his feelings, that she was just as aware of him sitting around the corner as he was aware of her during that incident...that there was a high chance for them to start a relationship.

After they graduated.

But a long wait kindled a passionate love.

In the first year of their relationship in university, they were careful to follow the recommendations, clumsily having their first-times near the end of her heat, when she’d be conscious enough to make decisions, yet physically capable to accept any loss of control on his end. She wanted to spend his first rut with him, too, but he decided against it, not knowing what might happen.

It was lonely. He had never loathed a past decision so much before in his life. No matter that he took over-the-counter suppressants to calm his Alpha’s tendencies, like keeping his knot from forming or hammering down the aggressive urge to bite into soft skin, his mind kept wandering to her, his fingers tapping into her social media for pictures of her that inevitably had him working himself into a sleeve or humping his pillows and blankets, every moment compounding frustration and dissatisfaction in a never-ending cycle, until he was phone calling her, “Just to hear your voice.”

“Oh, Naruto-kun...I miss you, too. Are you okay?”

He was already achingly stiff, his own developed gland at his neck pulsing needfully, his Alpha aroused as if blinking suddenly awake, then thrashing to be with her. “Mm, yeah.”

“The medicine is okay?”

He tugged on his member, his eyes closing.

“...Naruto-kun?”

He pumped himself, settling into a rhythm. “...Yeah?”

“...Are you okay?” she repeated with more hesitation, more concern.

A harsh breath left his mouth. “No, yeah, I just needed to hear you, Hinata,” he managed to breathe out.

“I, I missed your voice, too.”

He worked himself in his hand, imagining her whispers at his ear instead of his phone. “I miss you. I need you. I need you, Hinata.”

“I wish I could help you.”

He shortly moaned. “Yeah. I can’t stop thinking about you.” His train of thought quickly devolved into memories of her last heat from there, his control on his mouth snapping. “Can’t stop thinking about your body, how I’d…” He groaned. “I’d fuck you so hard, Hinata-”

“Yes,” she breathed.

Shivers ran through him. “You’d like that, right? My hard cock driving into your dripping pussy-”

“Oh, Naruto-kun...yes…”

Blearily, he grabbed an already used sleeve, and began thrusting into it with earnest. “You’d be so hot and slick, just gripping me so tightly-”

“Naruto-kun!” Her voice pitched breathily.

“Fuck. Hinata. That’s it...”

She moaned, the hungry sound making him grind himself into the tool.

“Are you touching yourself?” he asked, trying to imagine her lewd facial expressions.

“...Yes…”

He sighed in desire and frustration, working his hips, grunting and groaning. “...Hinata…”

“Naruto-kun…”

“You’re so soft…”

“Mm…you’re..so...mm...so big...”

Eyes closed, he lay down on his bed, and a picture of her sinking down on him, riding him, ran vividly through his mind.

“You’re so hard…” Her sultry voice slipped around his mind like a drug, carrying him straight to the brink.

“I’m going to fill you up with my cum, over and over again.”

“Oh...please...yes…”

“Paint your insides with my seed…” His mind faded as she breathed his name, a sound that toppled him over the edge. He convulsed into the sleeve, pumping his hips wildly, the agony of his orgasm ripping him out of his fantasy.

When his eyes opened again, he was staring at the ceiling, utterly alone. The imagined warmth of her body just the still air of his dorm room.

Her breaths came through the phone as his mind cleared, and he roughly apologized, “Sorry.”

“...Hm? Oh..no, Naruto-kun, it’s, it’s okay, I understand.”

He rested, the exhaustion of his hours of lust suddenly hitting him.

“...Do you want me to come over?”

This short reprieve of his rut had him second-guessing. He knew that once the next wave hit, he’d want her in-person. “I don’t know, maybe, if you want…only if you want.”

“I’ll be there soon, Naruto-kun.”

She let him indulge himself between her own classes, rushing straight to him for a quickie before heading off to her next class, her womanhood and pad-lined panty sticky with the potent seed of his rut.

Numerous times that week, he wished he weren’t on medication so that he could knot her and force her to stay with him until he deflated, even if that meant she’d miss her class.

So when summer break coincided with his second rut, they talked about forgoing the medication. He wonders if he should have known better, but of course, he couldn’t control himself. He knotted her right away, and in his haze of animalistic lust and at the brink of orgasm, his teeth tore off her ribbon from her swollen, pink gland even though he had known it wasn’t the right time. Her hand slapped to her neck right before he could mark her, and he ended up biting her fingers as he came.

It was awful, but she forgave him.

Close calls in their feverish, hormonal lovemaking forced both of them to start wearing locked collars on their glands with the keys in another locked cabinet. It would be too much trouble to retrieve the keys in the throes of passion. She had initially tried simple belted collars, thinking she’d be too foggy to deal with the buckle, but she herself would desperately remove them during the height of her heat while he pounded her into a puddle.

“Please,...Alpha,...claim me,” she breathed, stretching her neck so that he could see her bare, perfectly unscarred, and puffy scent gland.

It took everything in him to shut his eyes, while his inner Alpha raged with desire.

When she realized he couldn’t be enticed, the incident of chomping her fingers still weighing on him, she tried a different tactic. Her teeth picked at his collar, her breath tantalizingly hot on him, her tongue licking at the exposed edges of his equally swollen gland, his heart thudding in his chest for their bond to be finalized.

If she ever bit him, even just a little, he knew he’d claim her in a heartbeat.

But she somehow held herself back every time, only teasing him with her lips and tongue, or the lightest graze of her teeth around where he desperately wanted her to bite down. Then she’d beg for his cum, whispering dirty words he’d never imagine could leave his quiet girlfriend’s lips.

By some way or another, they managed throughout university. He knew their parents would kill them if they bonded too soon, but after proposing to her in their final year, job-hunting, and graduation, he found less and less reasons to hold back.

He didn’t plan on marrying anyone else, and he knew Hinata didn’t plan on it, either. So why weren’t they mated, yet? Would their parents really be angry at them? Technically, they were both working adults now, even if he had only just received his first paycheck.

Her intoxicatingly rich scent enveloped him, like the protective nest of blankets and pillows she’d neatly piled and encircled around them. Her organized nest popped with distinct orange and black from his jackets and shirts, used as pillow cases to scent the entire bed if he steps away for a moment. He himself couldn’t smell the ocean air of his scent that apparently soothes her. Yet she curled into him, trembling and feverish with the onslaught of her fast-approaching heat, breathing in as deeply as she could at his shoulder.

He blinked slowly, the fog of her pheromones sending him through a buzzed state. Was it his imagination, or were her heats getting denser over time, more tantalizing and sensual? Blood was rushing low, desire accumulating slowly yet surely in his core with a certain, particular heaviness growing in his sack with the lovely, familiar scent of her heat. His body was preparing to emulate a rut, readying to knot her, claim her, mate her. The beast within paced itself. His senses felt heightened in awareness of every shiver against his skin, of each puff of her breath, anticipating anything she might need of him, waiting to prove himself worthy.

She squeezed him, soft whimpers spilling from her lips as she rubbed her sensitive breasts into his side. Her nightgown was a thin little piece, meant to provide her some semblance of modesty and keep her cool, but it made little difference to him. Her soft thigh smoothed over his legs, her knee bumping into his erection.

Just that small stimulation had him breathing her in deeply, his eyes rolling back for a second, his heart jumping with lust. He could tell she was almost there, almost ready to succumb to her nature. He knew each of her signs, how she would call for him so wantonly when it was time, how her body would move enticingly, how her slick would sluice down her legs uncontrollably.

He knew her better than he knew himself. Each facial expression, each mood, each routine, each peculiarity and detail.

He felt like he knew everything there was to know of his fiancée, and it intrigued him, frustrated him endlessly to know that there was actually still so much more for him to learn.

Turning his head, he pressed kisses into her hair and let his eyes roam down the dips and swells of her form. “...I want to bond with you, Hinata.”

“But..we’re...not married..yet,” she breathily whispered, still clinging onto her consciousness before her Omega drove her instincts.

“I feel like we’re already married.”

“We...don’t technically...live together...yet.”

“I feel like we’re already bonded.”

“Mmm...we’re not..though.”

“You don’t want to bond?” he asked more pointedly.

“You know I do,” she answered immediately.

“Then why not now?”

“Because…” Her voice died there. She lifted herself up marginally, the effort apparently taxing, heat-glazing eyes barely meeting his own gaze, and he pulled her onto him for a steamy kiss. Her tongue played with and yielded to him, letting him taste her helpless moans until they needed to breathe. Panting, she murmured, “Can we?...bond now...?” Her hand trailed over his bare chest, reaching for his locked collar.

“I love you, Hinata, and I can’t find any reasons to wait anymore.”

She wiggled on him, her lips rocking hotly against his own. “I...love you..too..Naruto-kun… Please, claim...me….tonight.”

He removed himself from her side to get the keys, making sure to soothe her worries about where he was going, then he unlocked his own collar. His gland, swelling in response to her darkening scent, almost felt like it had a heartbeat of its own.

She lay back obediently as soon as he reappeared, and he moved over her as she turned her chin up, letting him unlock her own collar, and he tossed the leather to the ground unceremoniously.

His gaze lingered on her gland, swollen pretty and pink, delicate skin waiting to be broken. He could bite her right now if he wanted to. “Do you want to wait for your heat to come?”

She shook her head. “I...can’t...wait...”

Nodding, he removed his boxers as she threw her nightgown off and rolled down her soaked panties, a heavy string of slick stretching with it.

His breath grew labored as he kneeled between her creamy legs, positioned his dick at her glistening center, and quickly sunk into her marvelous warmth, penetrating her silky folds deeply. “I love you, Hinata.”

“I...love...you...Naru..to-kun…” Her breaths pushed out with his long thrusts, more slick sliding out of her and covering his pelvis. Her sweet scent was much stronger now, piercing his senses into a mindless devotion as he worked his stiff cock into her.

He fell forward, rubbing their chests together, relishing the soft give of her squirming body beneath him with a groan of approval. He found her lips, their tongues caressing each other hungrily, her breath steaming up at him with each squishy thrust.

By the end of tonight, her soft, curvy body and her beautiful, gentle mind would be entirely his. Her chocolatey scent would be his to taste for himself from the intimate source, sweet nectar on his tongue.

He nosed her exposed gland, breathing deeply, his tongue tracing the delicious swell.

“Naruto-kun,” she whispered, a tremor shaking her bodily as he licked her, her soft hold clenching around him.

Desire surged, the base of his piece already swelling. “Hinata,” he groaned, trying to hold back his eager, oncoming knot, “can I claim you from the back?”

Like in the traditional pictures. The Alpha dominating the Omega into submission first before they changed places, and the Omega ultimately choosing whether to seal the bond for life. It wasn’t the only way, but it was the one he had frequently fantasized about as a teenager whenever Hinata was absent. Maybe because he was always watching her from the back of the classroom, always noticing if she turned around.

Her light eyes gazed up at him through lowered lashes. “Yes.”

He sat up, pulling her legs together against his chest. A few thrusts into her, and she twisted onto her side, her body curving deliciously, his hands delighting in her pinched waist, her pillowy breasts, the jiggle of her ass as he slapped into her. “Fuck.” His knot was inflating fast, insisting on burying into her with each push. “On your hands and knees, Omega. Present for your Alpha.”

She gained her knees as he pulled out for a second, turning her dripping petals up to him beneath a wiggling, full ass.

He drove forward, ramming himself into her, her body opening up for his knot. He pushed himself deeper as she took the swell of him, her lower lips closing around him, locking him in like she was made for him, her body ready for his inner Alpha to claim her. Excitement thrilled through him, her gland prominently waiting for him with Hinata’s hair draped on the other side. Salivating, he leaned over her prone form, hands gliding and squeezing up her smooth body until his fingers sunk into her breasts.

He tongued her gland, relishing the flutter of her cushiony flesh conforming to his tight knot, the pleasure prickling like static. He let his teeth graze her delicate skin, the tease on his mind unbearable, yet devastating on her.

“I’m yours, I’m yours, oh, Alpha, I’m yours, please, Alpha, only yours, take me, take me-”

His lips enclosed around the swollen skin, gently suckling as she fucked herself on his knot, her ass shaking on his pelvis wildly, aromatic slick smearing all over him. “Hinata, all mine, so cute and needy on my big cock, begging for my claim.”

“Yes, yes, please…” Her repeated, begging promises overpowered the last of his control, his hand reaching further up to take hold of her slender neck, the possessive gesture wringing a mindlessly loud moan from her throat.

He bit.

She burst beneath him.

Hormone-rich flavor flooded his senses, ecstatic pleasure whipping at him like a pinch, grounding his body to hers as warmth pooled low, he was coming hard, but airy delight enfolded him, her scent and taste softly weighing through him. He clung to her shivering body, hands squeezing at her skin, his fingers reaching for more of her, his cock still twitching out cum as far as he could reach. He swallowed down more of his claim, more of the forbidden honey of her body, a devotion sealing upon him that sent his heart throbbing louder and louder, only to realize...it was hers. Her pulse and moaning breaths so clear, he couldn’t hear himself at all.

Heat spread from his chest, circulating out until he was burning uncomfortable pins and needles across his whole body, numbing him.

Except for where they touched.

He had at some point fallen to his side, tangling her to himself as close as he could. Need rippled through him. His body felt empty. His own mating gland felt tight and hot, pulling and pulsing at his neck. Her soft skin and flesh comforted him like a drug, all of his senses zeroing in on her sensation, and he needed more of her, yet his Alpha felt weak, intoxicated, incapable of taking what he wanted.

All he could do was clutch her tightly, pierce himself into her over and over as his knot softened, suck on her skin, and listen to each of her hitching cries in attempts to soothe the aches of an incomplete bond.

Her dewy gland left his lips, and in his lust-ridden daze, he wanted to pin her back down, but he couldn’t.

He couldn’t move as she pushed his shoulder, laying him flat, as she mounted him and moved upon him.

Through bleary eyes he regarded the bouncing form of his mate, each stroke making her moans sing in his mind, her heavy pulse drumming in his ears. His Alpha, drunk on his claim, murmured, My Omega, mine, encouraging his hands to pull her wide hips down to meet his weakened thrusts, fingers to lazily pull at her nipples as they jiggled in front of him. Before long, she was taking in his knot again, her flaring hips swaying as she fitted herself onto him, her soft body perfectly taking him, her Omega voice whispering so sweetly, “My Alpha...”

He strained his head to the side in a helpless plea. Never before had he felt so needy or powerless. They had learned in Health Class about how incomplete bonds could drive someone mad. How imbuing someone else’s essence within can lead to emotional, mental, and physical pain if left unanswered.

And he realized he would feel frightened if he didn’t trust her completely to take him in return, to glide her hands across his chest like he’s precious, to lean over him as her heated gasps and cries rang through him, to lowly murmur, “Mine,” an echo that alerted his senses enough for his body to gravitate up toward her, toward her kisses, her teeth, grazing, sinking…

He burned.

Strained.

Furiously released.

Her enticing, whimpering sounds urged him on.

A thick pulse from his gland, to his heart, to his cock.

Like a heavy thread tying him to her fluttering clutch around his throbbing piece, to her rapid pulse beating in his mind, to her caressing and insistent tongue and lips on his neck. His whole self, not just his dick, was knotted to her for the first time. Cum continued to spill out of him, each shot spreading fluffy euphoria over him, whitening his mind around their taut connection.

And then he could truly feel her.

Her Omega.

Pleasant, delighted comfort mirroring his own. Her beautiful emotions washing through him, completing his until he couldn’t distinguish his own high from hers.

He turned his head, pushing her face from his gland, finding hers, and drinking her in. He caught her dripping essence on his tongue, the warm, sweet taste whipping at him once more, drugging him.

Her heightened pleasure raced against his heart as she climbed the peak of ecstasy once more. Striking ecstasy surged harder and harder through their bond, her orgasm crashing through him, more cum spurting out of him as she cried out her elation.

He felt endless.

Cycled and recycled in her embrace. Needing and providing, giving and receiving, sharing and keeping.

They enjoyed their new bond straight through the start of her heat, his body not needing a break for several hours past his normal, rut-less limit. When his piece finally softened, he noticed she wasn’t exhibiting the usual symptoms of her heat, like deliriousness and confusion. He knew exactly what she wanted, and while he pleasured her with a dildo instead, she didn’t beg him for anything he couldn’t give.

She was less tired in the brief respites from her heat.

She seemed settled and happy, rather than struggling against her inner Omega’s needs.

“We should’ve bonded sooner,” he reflected aloud as they finally ate their first meal in over ten hours.

Sitting in his lap, she hummed in agreement, snuggling against his chest, and sighed, “I love you, Naruto-kun.”

“I love you, Hinata.” He smiled, meeting her content expression.

Thoughts of their parents’ reactions were far from their minds.

And of course, as soon as they broke the news when her heat was over, Hinata’s father immediately forced them to have a civil marriage at the courthouse that week, even though their wedding ceremony and celebration with guests were in only a month and a half. Hiashi made Naruto move into Hinata’s apartment immediately, even though the agreement had originally been only for her heats or his ruts.

They stood together, admiring the photographs of their wedding on the refrigerator. Hinata smiled into his chest as they embraced. “We got to get married twice,” she reflected aloud with a laugh.

“Yeah, see, not too many people get to have two weddings,” he agreed.

“And I got to have you all the time, sooner, so it’s definitely a good thing.”

“Yeah.” He squeezed her harder, despite knowing what her sinfully angelic body would do to him. He was thinking their parents, Hiashi included, must have remembered the effects of new bonds, and for that reason forced them to marry and move in together, beyond just for appearance’s sake and societal expectations…

He missed her all the time. A strange loneliness even if he was surrounded by people. And his libido was much higher than before.

He wasn’t taught that part about the bond in school.

That seeing her at the wedding in her figure-hugging gown would nearly incite an erection. That having their first dance, even in front of all their friends and family, would make him want to grind against her like they’re in the club. That just thinking of her at work would make him feel like he needed to rub one off in the bathroom.

It was like being on the tip of going into a rut, but staying at that edge for days, weeks. He could still control himself easily, but if she’s in his arms here and now, there’s really no reason to stress about it.

It affected her similarly.

She was more than willing, letting him make love to her wherever they were in the apartment, just turning around, pulling her panties down, and allowing him to fit into her so that they could satisfy the physical side-effects of their bond. “Naruto-kun,” she gasped out as she leaned against the kitchen counter.

He watched the soft skin of her ass bouncing on his hips with each of his energetic thrusts. “Hinata, you’re so sexy.”

She hummed a disagreement that turned into a yelp as he pinched her nipples, rolling them between his thumbs and forefingers until they were hard points.

“Yes, you are.” His dick twitched inside of her as she gasped tortured cries. He was going to come quickly, the need beginning to boil over even though it had only been a couple of minutes. His right hand groped her full breast, the plush skin turning him on even harder as his left reached down to find her clit.

His middle finger slid over the hot, moist hood. One gentle stroke, and she was convulsing on him. Two strokes, and she sobbed out his name.

A groan fell out as he pulled himself close to her, shoving his straining piece as deeply as he could and pulsing sweet release into her soft clutch.

She panted into the crook of her arm, letting him rest against her back. “I love you.”

Smiling tiredly into her hair, he whispered, “I love you, too.”

Quickies were a solution to ease their newly mated Alpha and Omega, and gradually, over the course of the year, their cycles calmed and fell into a synchronizing rhythm.

It’s a blessing he doesn’t take for granted. Rutting into his mate and not just any heated Omega found on dating apps. His only partner in his whole life.

There’s nothing better than knowing he’s the only one to have ever held her, the only one to have ever been inside her, to make her gasp and cry in pleasure, to have her slick dripping down his groin, and to have his name on her wanton tongue.

To be the only one she’s ever called, “Alpha…”

To be the only one she looks at with heat-stained pink cheeks and glazed, cloudy, adoring eyes.

To hear her begging for his knot, to bear his child.

He’s lucky.

“Good girl,” he mutters before smashing his lips to hers, her squeals hot on his tongue. Sucking kisses down her jaw, he buries his face at her neck and nudges into her until she opens up for his knot completely. “Take it.” Elation tickles at his extremities, and he holds her soft body closer.

Tense hands press into his back, and her silky flesh pulls at him with insistent tugs around his knot. She arches into him with mindless, urgent praises.

Hot spurts of cum leave his aching cock, and he shudders against her smaller, trembling form. Groaning, he jerks into her, pressing his straining piece as deeply as he can.

Her still-broken gasps, the pull of her body, and the vibrant scent of her gland promise him a long climax, and he imagines the concentrated seed of his rut soaking into her cervix.

She’s probably already pregnant from their first round with the fertile conditions of their bond, but that knowledge only stirs his Alpha’s primal instincts.

In some bygone evolutionary past, unmated outsiders of the pack would be drawn to a pregnant female’s “glow,” her shroud of strongly attractive aroma meant to encourage her own mate to stay close and provide...

Itʻs a medical fact that soon Hinata’s enticing scent will lure others with little self-control.

So he just needs to make sure they know she’s his.

Sitting up, he leisurely grinds into her jolting body, delighting in each tortured cry. She’s still sensitive to the touch, but he strokes the slanting curves of her hips, around to her soft thighs near his torso, then back up her body to squish into her tits. Minutes of caressing her body pass, and his knot gradually deflates, allowing him to stab into her with longer thrusts. “Hina...you feel how hard I still am for you?”

She nods with a blissful smile. “Naruto-kun,” she coos.

“Yeah.” He grabs her wrists and brings her hands down, silently encouraging her to feel their sloppy connection below.

Dutifully, her hand encircles the base of his length as he pulls out, dripping with their cum, while he has her other hand smear against her steamy womanhood. “My Alpha’s made me so wet,” she comments, her cloudy eyes lidded in sensual intimacy.

He takes her hands and flattens them against her stomach, then glides them up to her full breasts. Watching her touch herself, he groans as he penetrates back into her slick folds. “Feel how soft you are? Feel how your body makes me so hard for you?”

The pink of her cheeks deepens as she moans, and he pierces her a few more times before withdrawing once more.

He drags his cock along her thigh and rubs the mess into her creamy skin. He scoops the dribbling loads from her pussy and smoothes it across her tummy. “Rub it in.”

She does the rest without prompting, her fingers reaching down to her lower lips spread around the tip of his girth before drawing back up to trace shining patterns over her skin.

Grinding into her, he watches her hands dip over the slopes of her body, her fingers shamelessly lingering at her nipples, pleasuring herself, leaving their cum shining on her areolas. “Pretty tits,” he grunts, leaning down to nip at the jiggling, erect buds.

Suddenly she tenses up, writhing beneath him, her breasts pillowing against his face. Her stressed grip clenches at his biceps, and he looks up to see her agonized expression.

Her eyes closed in rapture.

Swollen lips wide open, her jaw working around a breathless scream.

Velvety folds tighten around him, inviting him to snuggle deeper as her creamy fluid splashes down his balls. Pride sizzles through him at the tell-tale signs of a well-loved Omega, the idea of her soon-to-be multiple, repeated orgasms exciting him.

She bucks up at him, quietly begging, “More…knot...need…knot…”

Pulling out, he flips her onto her stomach. Using his knees to spread her legs apart, he glides his piece along the length of her crack, steamy slick sticking to her ass cheeks as he compares his engorged size to her smaller body.

“Naru-”

He slides back into her spread petals, rapidly pounding into her. Avidly watching her ass bounce against him, he slaps the pale skin to bright red, earning him ecstatic squeals. That familiar pinching surges low, and he’s swollen again, his knot taut and full, but her dripping folds easily wrap around him as he pushes in.

She gasps mindless words of appreciation that devolve into a moan once he reaches beneath her to stroke her slippery clit. One, two, three hard rubs with his fingers, and her passage tightens up in rhythmic tugs on his knot.

His eyes roll back as she forces his ejaculate out, a snarl fixed into his jaw. His fingers push into her clit as he grinds into her, ensuring a torturous orgasm that leaves her breathlessly climbing another peak soon after.

“A-Alpha, oh, Alpha!” Creamy slick leaks around his knot as she writhes enticingly beneath him, and within a minute, her soaked walls are massaging his hot length once more in trembling ecstasy.

Grunting, he squirts out the last of his load, adrenaline streaming hot-cold from every extremity, tingling pleasure washing through and seeping into her.

He collapses, pulling her to their sides. Eyes falling closed, he focuses his senses on the chocolatey taste of her honey dripping on his tongue, the melty feeling of his cock nestled securely in their shared moisture, and the softness of her areolas puckered into tight nubs between his fingers. He enjoys her squirming ass in his lap, the thumping beat of her heart in the background of his mind, her loving sighs.

Teasing pleasure tickles at his inner beast, and possessive affection blooms strong within.

An instinctive pressure in his chest to hold her close and never let go.

Ebbing and flowing through his veins, emotion rising like an incoming tide. It’s still hardly the start of their first acclimated bond together; they’re only just entering the final stage of the mating process.

Her heady scent is stronger than ever, and he’s sinking into it. The pitching climax of their bond has him relinquishing control to her needs, his body easily responding to her desires. They’re reaching a new depth and alignment in their relationship that excites and mystifies him, will conceivably drag him under and rebirth him.

“Do..do you hear that?” Her breathless voice is barely audible over the faint, singing hum he can feel trembling through them, a primordial tone of mates only ever described, never recorded.

“Yeah.” Content attachment fizzes through him, bubbles across his skin, and he cuddles her close, snuggling his piece deep.

She turns her head, hot blush dusted across her cheeks, warm lips and tongue slotting perfectly with his.

He is meant for this, meant for her to be meant for him. Maybe the gods didn’t tie red threads between their fingers, but she twined him in herself. Each look, word, scrap of attention paid tangled them, sewed his soul to hers in a way their bodies can only attempt to replicate in sinfully sweet ritual.

“Naru..mm…” Her light gasps mist at his tongue with each rock into her body, and he drinks each breath in, savors the pure adoration and unremitting arousal he can taste from her lips.

“I know, Hinata, I know.” Sweet craving and even sweeter indulgence wrap beautifully about him, and he draws them deeper to sweetest release.

#naruto-smut-monday #naruhina fanfiction #naruhina fanfic #thank you for reading!#alpha/beta/omega au #a/b/o dynamics

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