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static-fanatic-1 · 3 years

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Hello, I hope you are doing well today. I was wondering if I can get a semi-angst hc of Pakunoda, Illumi, Milluki, Silva, Chrollo, Kurapika and Shalnark + Setsuno, Overhaul, Chronostasis, Tamaki, Endeavor, Shinsou, Aizawa and Shiggaraki with a s/o who hates them, but once their children gets kidnapped they beg and cry to the boys/girls to find their child and bring them safely home. Hopes that makes sense. Please and thank you.

Pakunoda:

She hates seeing you in pain, in ANY pain, so this doesn’t sit well with her at all. It hurts that you hate her, but to her it doesn’t matter as much as her undying love for you. She is sweet, and she knows despite keeping you captive, you are cared for. This includes your and her child. She will tear the world to shreds with her lovely heels.

She will be more methodical in ending whoever took her child, and no harm will come to the sweet baby. She will not use this against you in anyway, she would rather you love her naturally. So when da baby is returned, she won’t tease you or ask for something in return. She just wants to comfort you both and tell you everything is okay now.

Illumi:

Like Paku, Illumi cares about both of you, just in a really different way. He “loves” his kids more as a tool and as a successor to his lineage, not like he loves you. So when his kid is taken, there will be hell to pay.

He doesn’t really think much on the fact you are begging him, though it is a nice change to your typical screaming. He won’t brag, boast, or use it against you, for the most part anyway. He might be robotic, but he still is smart. He will keep your children in mind next time you try anything too risky.

Milluki:

He doesn’t care about his kids, they are spoiled little shits in his eyes. He probably didn’t really want kids in the first place, but one thing led to another and here they are now. So when they are taken, he sees it as an inconvenience, but also an opportunity once he sees how distraught you are.

He makes it into a big deal and boasts about how only HE can save your kids. HE is the only reason you will get your little babies back. And don’t worry, he will make sure you inderstand that. He will ALWAYS use this against you at any moment of any day. He wants you to know you need him.

Silva:

He doesn’t care about your kids, to him they are an end to a means, and another way to keep you with him. So as much as he knows his kids can take care of themselves, or at least he wants them to be independent through whatever means, seeing you hurt makes him take initiative. You are devistated, fine, he’ll save your kids.

Silva makes quick work of whoever took your kids, and makes sure to savor it. Once he’s done, he lets you take a moment to be happy for your kids being safe, but don’t expect to be in the clear. You will have to give him something in return, and knowing his sex drive, you probably wouldn’t like it. But your kids are safe, so everything is fine, right?

Chrollo:

Like Silva, Chrollo doesn’t care about your kids. A means to an end, to keep you locked with him. Though, he really does care about you, so he will do anything to make you happy.

This means getting that little bundle of attention-stealing-shitness back. Anything for you to get on his good graces. Besides, he has the whole troupe that loves the kid, so they will all pitch in to find the little one. I don’t think he will use this against you, mainly because you should already knows nothing will get between the two of you, not even your child.

Shalnark:

Shalnark is a strange one, to me he seems like a mix between Chrollo and Pakunoda. He cares, a lot, but if anything was to come between you and him, he wouldn’t mind making a point. Still, seeing you in so much emotional pain makes him jump into action.

He calls up his best friends to help find the poor sap who took his and your kid. Yeah, they won’t last long. Shal takes great care in handling the little one to make sure they aren’t too scared. He also spends a lot of down time after to bond with the both of you. Maybe this wasn’t a good thing to you, but to him it only brought you closer together.

Kurapika:

Really big family man, whoever took your kid must have been the most stupid person to walk the earth. He is defiantly on your side with getting his kid back, so he won’t use this against you as much as the others might. Instead of bragging or boasting about how you need him to keep you safe, he will want a little something in return.

He might be on your side, desperately wanting his kid back, but he wouldn’t waste an opportunity to get a little treat from you. He will manipulate you to feel guilty, like it was somehow your fault, just to get something from you. Wether it be some bonding time, or something more suggestive, he will get it through manipulation. Of course he’d love to bond some more with your kids after he retrieves them, just don’t think you are safe around Kurapika.

Setsuno:

This poor guy had a terrible relationship before you, so there is no way in hell he would let what happened before happen again. He hates the fact you hate him, but he refrains from hurting you in anyway, this includes your kid. He will leave the room, break things, anything other than touching you and both of your kid.

When someone takes the baby, you aren’t the only one pissed off. Setsuno is furious, so he will do anything to get your kid back. He calls his friends just in case, and the three of them destroy whoever laid hands on his baby. Setsuno is happy to have everyone together again and he’ll take this time to bond with the both of you. Just don’t push him away or else he’ll remind you who saved your kid.

Overhaul:

Overhaul finds children to be dirty, they are nasty things that need so much attention. With that being said, to an extent, he treasures his kid. He wants them to be just like him, so he takes his time to teach them everything there is to know about ruling the underground. Again, his kid is an end to a means, but he does think of them a bit more than most of the others on this list.

When he kid is taken, he is frustrated for a few reasons. One is because he taught his kid to use their quirk (if they are old enough to have it by now), and two because he has to waste his time trying did of dirty things. Though, seeing you beg for him to save your baby makes it more worth his time. Much better than when you grit your teeth and turn the other way. So when he gets the baby back, he makes sure you understand what he went through to appease you.

Chronostasis:

Another one that actually likes his children and treasures them. Chronostasis is more of a family man, taking care of the children, getting groceries, the usual stuff to help around the house while you are there. He doesn’t keep you stuck, he just uses his profession to threaten you. But other than that he acts like a normal father when he doesn’t have work to do.

Taking his child is a really bad thing. He values work a lot, so he will put work first, so he will only leave to find his kid once overhaul gives him the go. He might get help, but in the end it doesn’t matter. He will tear anyone apart to find your baby. When he does, he brings them home and smiles at you, taking as much time as he is given to comfort the both of you. Everything can go back to normal now, just ignore the spots of blood on the bottom of his white jacket.

Tamaki:

Such a shy guy, he doesn’t do much to your hatred against him, he kinda just lets it happen while apologizing profusely. Though he doesn’t let you go. He does, genuinely, love his kid. In a way it gives him a sense of pride that he helped create such a beautiful baby. So when they go missing, and you grip his shirt and beg for him to find them. Tamaki is relieved you finally need him, but so frustrated at the same time.

He wants to sulk and cry through his frustration at loosing his kid, but your begging doesn’t allow that. Instead he asks his besties for help and makes sure to hurry. He’s so happy to get his baby back he can’t help the tears of joy falling from his face. When he comes back home you both cry and hold your baby as close as you possibly can.

Shinsou:

I think Shinsou has an inner demon when he is a Yandere, this is when it shows itself. He loves his kid, and is a really relaxed guy when it comes to the both of you. It’s just when his patience is pulled by someone out of his obsessive behaviors is when it becomes a problem.

He goes on his own, after all he is a hero not many know about, and his ability is insanely powerful. He will find the people resposible and tell them to “jump off this building” or “go kill yourself”. Things that will force them to get their hands dirty and stay away from his kid. He comforts his kid, tells them everything is okay now and that the two of them are going home to see you. Y’all can all watch a movie too, get take out and simply take it easy.

Aizawa:

He is almost exactly like Shinsou, or Shinsou is almost exactly Aizawa. The biggest difference is Aizawa has less patience, and isn’t afraid to get a little sadistic. With that said, you are more likely better “behaved”, though you still have some fight in you. Your kid is one of your joys in life, so when he comes home from work and sees you begging for your baby back, he’s happy.

He goes on his own and takes out whoever was involved. He doesn’t kill, he isn’t that reckless, but he definalty beats them to a bloody pulp until the police arrive. He does the paperwork, and then happily takes back his kid. Aizawa will make sure you know he did this for you and he will make sure you only think that. He loves his kid, a lot, but if you think you owe him more love, then that’s a win for him.

Endeavor:

Enji thinks his kids are weapons, I mean, that’s obvious right? He does care, but more as it would be a waste if something bad were to happen to them. Also, they are keeping you stuck with him. So yeah, when they are taken he gets pretty pissed about it.

Enji kinda rubs it in your face too, I mean you are begging for his help. You NEED him to save your kid. He won’t tell you he would get them back either way either, he wants you to think you owe him. So expect listening to whatever demands he wants from you. Not much time to appreciate your baby being safe.

Shigiraki:

Crusty man actually kinda likes his kid. In a way it’s like he has a distaste for them but can’t help but have a connection with them at the same time. Even Shigiraki doesn’t think he would be too distressed if something happened to his kid, but he was wrong. He takes it personally, and your begging makes him even more pissed. How dare they?!

Shigiraki makes a huge deal out of it, the entire league (those close) will be involved to cause chaos to the idiot who hurt his kid. It will be all on the news, how much carnage he caused, but not a single person will know it was because of his kid. He will boast about how he defeated the final boss for you and his kid, and he expects you to reward him. After you reward his efforts he will relax with the two of you, taking in the warmth from your love.

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saintshigaraki · 4 years

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HERE, IN THE MORNING LIGHT, IS WHERE WE’LL BARE OUR SOULS

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x f!reader

words: 3.2k

excerpt: Really, how many times can you blame Ushijima for breaking your heart when you’re the one who can’t seem to stop handing it to him -- on a silver fucking platter no less.

a/n: this is...a bit too similar to my bakugou drabble i’ll admit. but i could see a relationship with ushijima having some of the same problems. he’s not purposely cruel, but god, doesn’t that just make it so much worse?

tags: angst, mentions of alcohol, implied sex, reader is full of rage, ambiguous/open ending

in case you want to read it on ao3!

You greet Toshi at the door, as you’ve made a habit of doing when he manages to come home before you’ve fallen asleep.

(Like a well-trained dog, you think, with only the most bitter sort of amusement.)

When you lift your hand up to cup his face, a sweet hello, love, how was your day? on your lips, he sweeps it aside (gently, of course. He's always so sickeningly gentle when he brushes you aside. You think that might just make the hollow sting of his nonchalant rejection that much worse.)

“Have you made anything for dinner?” he asks, already walking away before you have a chance to pull him down for a kiss. Your arm falls unceremoniously at your side. A deadweight, swinging.

I think I might hate you, you want to say, so, so badly. The words are there, right on the tip of your tongue as you stand frozen in the darkened entryway, his shadow stretches, eclipsing you, as he walks further and further away.

But these moments of sweet burning-hot rage pass as quickly as they come and soon -- too soon, maybe, or not soon enough -- you find yourself turning on your heels and shining a too-bright smile, the one that shows too many teeth and leaves an ache in your cheeks.

“Not yet, love, but I can whip up something real quick.”

The words taste like lead in your mouth.

(Or maybe that's just the blood from biting your tongue.)

Who knows, you muse, bitterly, bitingly. What does it matter anyway?

You make your way towards the kitchen.

Later that night, after he’s finished fucking you into the mattress, he grunts out an I love you, before rolling over and promptly falling asleep.

His cum is sticky and uncomfortable as it cools on your burning thighs.

You stare at the lights sweeping across the ceiling from the passing cars and try to remember days when you didn’t feel as though someone had hollowed out everything that made you and filled in the empty space with barely contained rage.

Rationally, you know you weren’t always so unhappy with Ushijima. You loved him -- you still do -- you have for years. You could barely contain your tears of joy when he asked you to marry him and you didn’t manage to contain them at all the day you officially tied the knot.

You were so happy then. So, so, happy.

What happened?

(You know exactly what happened.)

You’ve made sacrifice after sacrifice for him. Moved from country to country. Left your family and friends behind more times than you can count. Because you love Toshi. Because you love him more than anything. And because he loves you, though you know he doesn’t love you more than anything. It’s a selfish gripe to have. A rather dumb one too. Of course he doesn’t love you more than volleyball. Why should he? He’s dedicated his whole life to the sport. Countless hours, countless injuries, and setbacks, and he’s persevered through it all because that's what he does. Because that sport, that court, that stupid fucking ball, is what he loves above all else.

It’s not as if you jumped into this marriage wholly and totally blind. You’re not dumb. You knew volleyball was going to be a priority in his life, the priority. And you thought you could handle that. You did handle it. For 5 years you’ve handled it, the constant moving, the last minute canceled plans, the weeks of him traveling that have left you all alone for near months at a time in a cold home with a cold bed. You’ve handled it all with a too-wide smile plastered painfully across your face.

But things have -- shifted, recently. Maybe it’s the pressure of what could very well be his last Olympics coming up in these next few years, maybe it’s the fear of someone younger, better, stronger than him taking his place, or maybe, he simply doesn’t give all that much of a fuck about you anymore.

(You know that’s not true. Wakatoshi loves you. You know that. Which is what makes this all so much worse.)

I love you, isn’t that enough? he’d said bluntly, and maybe a bit confused, last time you brought up your concerns after the third canceled date in a row.

His words had made you pause. Was it enough? Why isn’t it enough? Shouldn’t it be enough?

At the time, you’d thought, maybe. Maybe I can make it enough.

A year later and you’ve come to the realization that it simply -- isn’t enough. Maybe if you were a different person, a slightly better person, it’d be enough. But you’re not. You’re you, a strange, toxic concoction of hollow fury and selfish desires (for comfort, for love, for anything more than whatever this is).

You roll over on your side to face your husband. He’s on his back, like he always is when he sleeps, completely dead to the world.

He’s statuesque, unmovable, untouchable, even now.

You gently brush your finger over his brow, sweeping his hair to the side, and tracing his strong jawline. You’ve done this a thousand times. You’ve memorized every curve, every freckle, every scar. You’ve mapped countless constellations across his skin.

You don’t hate him, you realize, in the dark suffocating silence of the night. Not yet, at least. There’s still too much love for him in your heart. Still too many memories of brighter days. Sweeter days. Gentler days.

He’s been good to you. As good as a man like him is capable of being. And you love him so, so dearly for it.

He has tomorrow off, maybe -- maybe you should talk to him. There’s still time to salvage this. There’s still so much love for him in your heart, enough to drive out the hate. You know it.

He has tomorrow off, you repeat to yourself. The first full day he’s taken off in a month.

You’ll talk to him then.

You have to.

The morning light is what wakes you. The gentle rays kiss your cheeks so sweetly.

Without fully opening your eyes, you reach towards Ushi only to be met with -- cool sheets.

Your stomach drops painfully and it's as though he’s taken your heart in his hands and just squeezed.

You open your eyes, wearily, tiredly, and the morning light no longer seems so sweet. It’s mocking. A cruel, bitter reminder of better days and broken promises.

You crawl out of bed, trying to stay optimistic -- maybe he just went for a morning jog -- even though you know that on days he has off he likes to sleep in. You try desperately to give him the benefit of the doubt, because he promised and you want so badly to still be able to believe him, even after everything.

He used to have every Saturday and Sunday free, then around three years ago it turned into every Sunday, then a year and a half ago it turned into every other Sunday, and recently -- well, it’s been a while. A long, long while.

But he promised he’d stay home today.

He promised, you repeat as you stumble around the apartment only to find it painfully silent, empty, and so, so cold.

You collapse on the couch, hunched over, your head hanging pitifully into your hands. You take a deep, pathetically shaky breath.

And then you laugh.

You laugh so hard you nearly heave.

Two years ago, you would’ve cried. A year ago, you would’ve screamed.

But now? Who do you really have to blame, but yourself? How can you not laugh? How can you not laugh at just how stupid and gullible you are?

Really, how many times can you blame Ushijima for breaking your heart when you’re the one who can’t seem to stop handing it to him -- on a silver fucking platter no less.

This is your fault. And it has been for a long while now.

It’s time to move on.

You book a one-way flight home -- you haven’t been back in so long. Too long, you know. You stuff as much as you can into your single suitcase and pitiful carry-on bag. It’s all strangely methodical and robotic. You’re calmer than you’ve been in months.

This is how it was always going to end. Honestly, you don’t think there was really supposed to be another option, any other way out. You don’t think this mess was ever going to be fixed. It was stupid of you to ever believe otherwise.

By the time you’ve managed to compose yourself, get your affairs in order, and meticulously pack away as much as you can, the sun has started to dip below the horizon.

The clock reads 9:18 PM. Your flight is in a few hours. You’ll have to get going soon.

You pick out the nicest, most expensive bottle of red wine in your home. You were going to save it for when Ushi made the national team again but, as you’ve learned rather painfully, sometimes plans change.

You pour yourself a glass, but in the end, can’t bring yourself to take a single sip.

That’s how Ushi finds you, sitting at the kitchen table, toying with a glass of wine. There’s only the lone kitchen light lit in the apartment. The shadows dance around him, dark and monstrous, ready to swallow you both whole.

Wakatoshi has never been particularly skilled at reading social cues but you can tell from the slight tilt of his head that he knows somethings wrong. You wonder if he knows exactly how wrong.

(Not that it would really change anything if he did.)

The thud of his gym bag hitting the floor echoes too loudly in the silent apartment.

He steps into the kitchen like he does all other things -- with purpose, with confidence. It will never not leave you in awe, even now, how sure he always is of himself. He’s a blunt force weapon, he always has been, and you can’t imagine a time where he’ll be anything but.

He stops at the opposite end of the table. It’s the beginning of the same song and dance you two have done time and time again when he breaks his little promises.

His big ones too.

(You think of when he had missed your five-year anniversary dinner for a last-minute practice. He hadn’t forgotten about the reservation, he’d told you after he’d returned home to you sitting alone at the kitchen table, half-drunk and livid, but people were relying on him, is what he’d said, and there’s always next year.)

This routine is comforting, if only in the cruelest way.

We can put on a show, just this last time, you think. For old time’s sake.

Your eyes fall back down to your glass as you speak. “You said you’d stay home today.”

You look back up just in time to see him opening his mouth. No doubt getting ready to cycle through the same set of excuses he’s been using for the past four years.

A teammate called.

I needed the extra practice.

There’s a skill I need to perfect.

The Olympics are 4 years away...3 years away...2 years away....you know that, love.

And, of course, no matter his reason, his excuse, he always makes sure to add, I’ll stay home next Sunday, I promise.

He doesn’t intend for that last part to be cruel, you’re sure of it, but God, if that doesn’t make it so much worse.

You cut him off before he can even start. “You promised.”

His brows furrow at your exhausted, weary tone. “There was a team meeting today, I’m sorry I forgot to mention it to you. It went on longer than I expected it would. We can still go out to dinner if you’d like.”

You give him a sad sort of smile. You’re too tired to give him any other. “I don’t think I’ll have time for that, love.”

Ushijima’s left brow twitches, as it always does when he doesn’t quite understand what’s going on.

He takes a step forward, around the table. “What do you mean? Are you going out tonight?”

You shake your head softly. “No, Toshi.”

You can’t help but wish more than anything, that it didn’t have to come to this, because you have loved him so much, so deeply, and you think that for it to end like this is a disservice to you both.

His jaw clenches, no doubt already trying to contain his frustration. He’s probably tired after his long day. An argument over something like this is probably the last thing he wants. A good wife would care more. A good wife might’ve persevered, smiled through her husband's little lies and shattered promises. A good wife might’ve tried harder. A good wife might’ve dug her heels in, instead of letting go completely.

But you’re not a good wife. Not now, at least. For all you know, you never were. You’ve always been just a bit too bitter, too selfish, too flawed. Not willing enough to throw yourself on the metaphorical altar for him.

He’s close enough now that he can see the suitcase at your side. It stops him dead in his tracks.

“What’s going on?” His tone is hard, demanding, but you know him too well to miss the fear that pulls at the corner of his eyes.

Ushijima Wakatoshi is a lot of things. But he’s certainly not dumb. He has to know what’s going on. He has to have known that, eventually, this was what was going to happen.

You stand up slowly, bracing your palms against the rough wood of the tabletop.

“I-” you let out a harsh, mean breath. You hate that you’re doing this. But you’d hate yourself more if you didn’t. And you know you’d grow to hate him too, eventually, if you stay. You’re burning up here in this home, each broken promise and cold night add fuel to the already raging fire. You’ll be nothing but ashes soon enough. “I can’t do this anymore, Wakatoshi.”

His pretty olive eyes narrow. The look he gives you is practically glacial. His fury has always been so, so cold. A stark contrast to your burning rage.

He takes a deep breath. “I don’t understand.” His words are slow, methodical, and too even.

They crack open something violent inside your chest, something with teeth. Something mean and ugly and so, so sad.

Too many years of biting your tongue have culminated into this moment. It’s time to strip yourself to the bone, to the ugly marrow. No matter how painful or awful.

Don’t you two deserve that, at least? Don’t you two deserve to part ways having seen the worst of each other?

“Of course you don’t understand, Ushijima,” you spit out, caustic and cruel. “How can you?” The laugh you let out is ripped from the very bottom of your heart, mean and poisonous. “Or more accurately, why would you? Why would you even bother understanding? It’s not like my unhappiness has ever really meant anything to you before-”

He cuts in sharply. “You know that’s not true.”

“No,” you hiss. “I don’t. How can I? I’ve been miserable for years now, left to beg for scraps of your attention like a fucking dog. I’ve reduced myself to this pathetic creature. I-” tears cloud your vision, far faster than you can blink them away. “I don’t even recognize myself anymore, Ushijima. I’m so--I’m so angry all the time and if I stay here that’s going to be all that’s left of me.”

It’s silent after your outburst and in the air is something awful and too great. You’re both teetering on the edge of something terrifying.

“If you stay with me, you mean,” he says, finally, and far too soft for a man like him. All signs of his previous fury have fled and in his eyes is a painful sort of vulnerability.

Your anger dissipates with his, mostly because you’re so fucking tired of being angry.

Is it really his fault, anyway? What exactly were you expecting of him, when you took his last name? Were you really wanting him to change something so fundamental, so ingrained in his soul, just for you? How unfair of you, you realize now, how cruel.

“Toshi.” You’re exhausted. And so sick of being second best. “This is more my fault than it is yours. I thought I could handle what being married to you would entail but I was,” -- you laugh, far less biting than before-- “very wrong.” You close your eyes, unable to look at him. “And now I suppose we’re both paying the price for it.”

“I love you,” he says, bluntly. “And you love me.”

You’re finally able to meet his eyes again. You take in the planes of his face, the subtle pain etched into every corner, a brutal, beautiful reflection of the years you’ve spent by his side.

“I do love you, Ushijima. More than anything.”

“Then why are you doing this?”

You swallow hard. “Sometimes, that just isn’t enough, Toshi. Relationships require more than love. They require work, and compromise, and some semblance of care and dedication, and you just-- you just don’t have the time for that right now, and I understand that. But I can’t keep doing this to myself. I deserve-” you stop and give yourself a moment to choose your words carefully, lovingly because you’re desperate for him to just understand. “We deserve better, don’t you think?”

He shakes his head, his hair falls in his eyes. You sweep it aside, a force of habit after all these years, something you’ve done a million and one times. Before you can jerk your arm back he grips it in his large hand. His fingers wrap around your wrist, unyielding.

“I need you,” Toshi says, uncharacteristically desperate. You can feel the heat radiating off his chest. It's a twisted sort of comfort. Knowing this may very well be the last time you’ll be in this position.

You smile, sweetly and a bit sadly. “No, you don’t, Ushi. You need volleyball. You need the thrill of the game and the taste of victory but you don’t need me. You’ve never needed me. And that’s okay.” You lift your other hand up to brush the stray tear that’s fallen from his eye. He nuzzles into your palm before you can move it, clinging to you like some sort of lifeline. “It’ll be okay, Toshi, we’ve just reached the end of our road. That’s all.”

He raises a shaky hand to trace the dried tracks of tears on your cheek, it’s startling to see him so uncomposed. “Please,” he nearly begs, “don’t do this.”

In your heart, there’s an odd brew of grief and rage and pain and love so mean you know you’ll feel the ache of it for years to come.

You think of all the shattered promises he’s left at your feet, you think of the gentle way he’s held you through the years, you think of his string of nonchalant rejection, you think of yourself, bright and burning.

Your mind spins from it and all you can do is rest your head against his chest and close your eyes.

a/n pt 2: there is some untapped potential in the fed up housewife genre and i am determined to unearth it. also i love ushi i promise i think he’d be a great husband under most circumstances

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu angst #hq #hq x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenarios #ushijima x y/n #ushijima x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #vicwrites #vicwriteshq

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valwentinefics · 3 years

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Instincts - Helmut Zemo x F!Reader (omegaverse) 18+

Plot: Y/n, an unmated omega, forgets to get a refill of her suppressants, sending her into her heat while at work. Luckily for her notorious criminal and alpha Helmut Zemo is hiding out in the backroom. (Takes place after episode 4 of tfatws)

A/n: First of all I’m sorry, second of all I’m sorry, third of all, You’re welcome. This is my first time writing omegaverse so it’s probably not the best and I haven’t read an omegaverse fic in a hot minute. Sorry my smut is always so short, I really gotta work on that.

Warnings: smut, normal a/b/o things, possessive dirty talk, mentions of omegas being harmed, mentions of fear of being assaulted. (if i missed anything please let me know)

As an unmated omega, Y/n knew well of the dangers of the world. Everywhere she looked alphas lurked around looking for their own omega, a rare thing to have in this society. Although omegas were coveted and prized they were still at the bottom of the hierarchy and were expected to be subservient to whatever alpha marked them, a thought that terrified Y/n. Stories of alphas that harmed omegas were sickeningly common, and with everyone plastering on fake kindness in hopes to place their mark on her neck, Y/n was terrified she would end up a statistic.

Suppressants were Y/n’s saving grace, an illegal method to mask her true nature from the world and pose as a beta where she could live her life peacefully, something she could never do as an omega. If she were to get caught she could face serious time in a correctional facility built just for omegas to learn their place in the world, and so every day was filled with caution and fear.

“God I look like shit.” Y/n’s heavy eyes looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, the bags under her eyes deep and only looking worse due to the harsh fluorescent light buzzing away above her. The illegal suppressants had many side effects ranging from life threatening to mildly troublesome, but the one that affected Y/n most was the inability to fall asleep. Each night was spent tossing and turning, her body feeling restless.

Sluggishly Y/n grabbed her concealer, dabbing it on beneath her eyes, her hands shaking with exhaustion. She finished with a sigh, running her hands through her hair to remove any major knots. She didn’t have the energy to fully go through her hair, not seeing the point. She was hidden as a beta anyways, no one would give her a second glance. Y/n opened the medicine cabinet, looking for the white box of suppressants, only to not find it anywhere. Her stomach sank as she realized she forgot to get her refill yesterday. It would be fine though, she hoped. She had gone without them before and hadn’t gone in heat, surely it would be the same thing this time, but for some reason there was a nagging feeling in her mind it wouldn’t be.

Y/n grabbed her perfume, spraying it on herself. The scent was cinnamon, similar to her natural scent as an omega, but it had the slight acrid scent of being a perfume. She hoped that would be enough to convince the alphas she passed by that she was just a beta wearing perfume. It wasn’t something she used often, only when her overtired brain didn’t remember to get the refill of her suppressants.

“That's good enough, I hope.” Y/n mumbled to herself. She smoothed out her short sundress, the light flowy fabric ending at her mid thigh. It was her favourite dress, she felt and knew she looked cute in it. Y/n didn’t like to wear things like this often, she didn’t want the attention of anyone, but frankly she felt like shit and needed the joy looking nice brought her.

The walk to the flower shop had Y/n’s body feeling hot, however she assumed it was the warm weather, not wanting her paranoia to make her miss work. The flower shop she owned was Y/n’s only source of income and it wasn’t a bad one at that. It was common for alpha’s to come in and buy bouquets to give to the first omega they see on the streets in an attempt to woo them. That was another reason Y/n refused to accept her status as an omega. Every bit of romance was just disingenuous. Alpha’s only wanted to have the honour of being chosen by an omega, they didn’t care about who that omega was. However, Y/n was happy it paid her bills.

The day went by smoothly until closing time when Y/n turned off the open sign, the neon light no longer lighting up the darkening street outside. As she grabbed her keys to leave a sharp pain went through her abdomen, causing a gasp to escape her throat. She rested a hand on the painful area, eyes wide. She should have listened to her instincts, she should have stayed home, but she didn’t and now she was going into heat in her store. Y/n paced, her mind running at a hundred miles an hour as she tried to figure out what to do. She couldn’t go home, walking would be near impossible for her with her heat approaching fast. She would have to wait it through in her shop with no relief.

“Oh fuck…” Y/n groaned in pain, leaning against the wall. She knew she had to find something to eat to get the strength to get through this. With shaky steps she headed to the back, her hand glued to her abdomen as if that would alleviate her pain. As she approached the door to the back room her blood went cold, her nose picking up the faint scent of an alpha through the thick door.

She debated opening it. Her instincts were telling her to open it and get his help with the heat, her brain told her it could be dangerous. Eventually decided to confront him, to ask what he was doing and maybe for his help getting home if he didn’t seem too awful. With her keys clutched between her fingers just in case, she slowly opened the door, her body almost melting at the scent that wafted to her.

A man dressed in a long coat with a fur collar stared back at her with shock, the scent of pine trees wafting off of him. “Omega…?” He spoke with a Sokovian accented voice. It took Y/n a few moments before the identity of the dangerously handsome man registered in her mind. She had seen him on the news. He was Helmut Zemo, the man who almost single handedly destroyed the Avengers.

Y/n shook her head, forcing herself to concentrate. “You’re Helmut Zemo… What- what are you doing here?” She asked, fixing her posture to appear assertive and trying her best to resist the urge to submit right there. A mixture of fear and arousal was filling her body to the point where she thought she might explode.

“So you’ve heard about me?” He tilted his head slightly. “I needed a place to hide for a bit, I’ve been scoping this place out. You’re the owner, Y/n, correct?” Y/n gulped but nodded, worried about why he was hiding out. “That doesn’t matter right now. Why are you here? It’s not safe for an omega in heat to be out in public.” He scolded as if Y/n didn’t know that. It was odd, having the notorious criminal seem to care about her safety. She wondered what he was trying to achieve, if anything.

“It wasn’t my choice okay?” She snapped, a wave of pain washed over her and she slumped against the door frame with a groan. Zemo got up, moving to her quickly but stopping once Y/n had flinched, worried he was going to try something.

“You need to get home, where’s your car? I'll escort you there.” He said, his voice was strained and Y/n’s eyes couldn’t help but land on the growing bulge in his pants. He was going into a rut which explained his current caring and protective nature. Her mouth watered at the thought of having his cock in her mouth but she tore her eyes away, looking to the side to avoid him.

“I don’t have a car… too expensive.” She groaned out, her breaths growing to pants as she started to overheat, fanning herself with her hand.

Zemo let out a staggered exhale, running his hand through his formerly perfectly done hair. “What’s your address? I’ll bring you there myself.” Y/n was impressed at the amount of self control this alpha had. Even as his rut was beginning he managed to stay calm and collected for the most part, but Y/n knew it was hard for him, sweat ran down his forehead as he strained to keep control.

Reluctantly Y/n told him her address knowing he was her best bet at getting home safely. A whimper escaped her throat as she felt her slick begin to drip down her thigh. She clenched her legs together, desire seeping into every part of her. She wanted the alpha’s knot more than anything she had ever wanted before. She could hardly focus on what Zemo was doing, not noticing he had draped his coat over her and picked her up until they were already out the door.

Zemo didn’t breathe as often as he needed while he walked, trying not to inhale Y/n’s scent as he moved at a quick pace, shooting piercing glares at every passerby that dared look their way. He felt protective over the little omega. His cock strained uncomfortably against his pants as his mind filled with thoughts of mating with her, but he pushed them back, not wanting to take advantage of her. Arriving at the apartment building he used her keys to unlock the door to the humble apartment, locating her room and placing her down on her bed. Y/n took off his coat and offered it back.

“You can keep the jacket for now, I’ll come back for it once you’re done with your heat.” He said, quickly turning around. Y/n’s hand shot out, grabbing his gloved hand.

“Please alpha, don't leave, help me.” She whimpered. Y/n didn’t know where that had come from, but she didn’t regret it, knowing it wasn’t just her heat talking. He was powerful, respectful, not to mention handsome. Everything a good mate should be, even though Y/n knew mating with a dangerous man like him was out of the question. Y/n found herself liking the man despite knowing what he had done and not knowing him long. She knew he would treat her well during her heat, if he accepted.

“Are you sure omega?” He asked, not facing her in fear that he would pounce on her as soon as he saw the desire in her eyes.

“Yes alpha, please…” Y/n whimpered again, giving his hand a small tug. “I need you”

That was all he needed to lose control. Zemo turned around to face her, stalking to the bed as he removed his shirt, straddling Y/n’s warm needy body. Her smaller hands reached out, undoing his belt and palming Zemo’s cock through his pants. Y/n couldn’t help the filthy thoughts that flooded her mind, desire for the dangerous man’s knot consuming her.

Zemo let out a groan, taking off his pants and boxers, letting his painfully hard cock free. Y/n’s eyes were clouded with lust as she leaned forward, mouth open and ready to suck it. He tapped the side of her cheek with his cock, running his hand through her hair and gripping it.

“No liebling, this is about you. I can wait for another time.” He let go of her hair and Y/n laid down, watching the alpha as he took off her panties and put her legs over his shoulders, running his cock slowly up and down her folds and coating itself in her slick, the tip teasing her as it came so close to going in. Y/n let out a little whine, letting him know she was growing impatient. “I apologize omega, it’s rude of me to tease.” He smirked before shoving himself all the way in easily.

Y/n’s toes curled as she let out a loud gasping moan, throwing her head back in pleasure as he began to thrust in and out of her, the position they were in allowing him to reach every part of her with ease. His hands ran up and down her waist as he let out a deep moan. Y/n’s eyes were locked on him as he fucked her deeply, causing her to let out a whimper of pleasure with every thrust.

“Look at you little omega, taking my cock so well.” He reached over to cup her cheek in his hand, rubbing circles into the soft flesh with his thumb. “Does it feel good?” His hand dropped from her cheek and began to rub her clit with just enough roughness to send her over the edge, a loud moan escaping her as she came.

“Yes, fuck! harder, please!” She said between moans, her hands tangling themselves in Zemo’s hair and gripping it as she panted.

Zemo moaned as he re-adjusted her legs on his shoulders, picking up the pace. “This pussy of yours, it’s mine now. I’ll fuck you through this heat and every heat you have next.” He growled, hitting Y/n’s sweet spot, making her cry out in ecstasy.

Y/n felt warm inside at his words. Her pussy clenched around his cock as the stimulation from him rubbing her clit and pounding into her sent her over the edge again, panting as she came hard. He was good at making her feel good, and for once Y/n was glad she was an omega.

“Fuck, you feel so good clenched around me. Do you want my knot in you, little omega? Do you want me to fill you up with my cum?” He asked cockily, receiving a desperate whine from Y/n.

“Please, please, please!” She begged, the only thoughts filling her mind were those of need for his knot buried deep into her.

“How can I refuse... when you’re asking so nicely, liebling.” He spoke between grunts. His thrusts slowly became more sloppy and deep and Y/n knew he was about to cum.

With one last deep thrust Zemo buried his cock all the way into Y/n’s pussy, his knot trapping the two together as he emptied his cum into Y/n. She felt so full in a good way, her breaths heavy with exhaustion as she internally frowned at the thought of Zemo pulling out of her. His knot alleviated the worst of her heat and as she laid there sore and sweaty, her now clearer mind had no regrets about what had happened.

Zemo pulled out after a while, his knot going away. A smile danced on his lips as he saw the cum dripping out of her as he pulled out his cock. Y/n’s eyes fluttered closed as she moved to a more comfortable position on the bed. Zemo grabbed his jacket from the floor, dusting it off and draping it over the omega’s tired form. Hesitantly he hovered over her before pressing a soft kiss on the top of her head, deeply inhaling her scent.

Not wanting to intrude any more, he got dressed and walked over to the couch, exhaustion filling his body as he slumped down onto it, closing his eyes with a smile. He could tell he would need all the rest he could get while he rode out the omega’s heat with her. He was so happy he decided to hide out at that flower shop.

Tags: @peculiar-monstar @lovelyzabrak-meadow @captainsherlockwinchester110283

#a/b/o #omegaverse #zemo x reader #helmut zemo #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo #baron zemo x reader #zemo #zemo smut

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quillsandtypos · 4 years

Text

Ski Trip

Summary: when the reader agrees to go on the annual ski trip up to the mountains with her boyfriend, Luke, and her friends she expected to go looking at mountains. But what she ends up doing doesn't require much hiking

Pairings: alive!Luke Patterson x reader

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: THIS IS NSFW FOREPLAY SMUT PEOPLE

If any of you have ever had a conversation with me and you read this fic, no you didn't

...........................................

"What are you two doing tomorrow?" Julie asked you.

You rolled into your stomach and propped your head up in your hands. “I’m not sure, but I know what we're doing next weekend, unfortunately.”

That peaked Julie’s interest, you weren’t usually much of a complainer. “Why unfortunately?” she questioned.

“Because I'm going on the Ski trip with him,” you whined. You wanted to spend time with Luke, you just didn't wanna go on the trip.

“Oh my god, you get to go?” she excitedly asked.

“Not helping,” you commented.

Julie smirked. “Sorry not sorry, I’ve been trying to get you to go for the past two years. And the first year, I couldn’t even go,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, so why would I have gone if you and Flynn weren’t even gonna be there?” you asked. As if on cue, Flynn walked down the stairs.

“Heard you guys were talking about me, all good things I hope?” she spoke as she walked down the stairs.

“Always,” you said, somewhat sarcastically.

She motioned for you to scoot over so she could have some space on the couch.

“So, if we’re done talking about me, did I hear someone say something about the ski trip?” Flynn questioned.

Before you could open your mouth Julie was already telling Flynn about how you were coming on the trip.

“You are?” Flynn squealed.

You tried to not get excited from their joy, but it was impossible; they were contagious.

You shyly smiled. “Yes, I’m going.”

“Yayyy!” Flynn yelled. The girl was practically jumping up and down.

“Oh who are you sharing a room with?” Flynn asked.

“Luke and I are,” you answered.

The girls exchanged a look you knew all too well.

“Shut up!” You covered your face with a pillow.

“We didn’t say anything!” they protested in almost complete unison.

You could feel your cheeks burning up. “Yeah, but you thought it,” you argued.

“Well whether we thought it or said it, you’re sharing a room with your boyyyyyyyfriend,” Flynn sang.

“If you guys start sing teasing me, I will leave,” you threatened.

“Don’t you need us to pick out your outfits?” Julie remembered.

“Oh, shit, yeah.”

“So in other words you have no leverage?” Flynn realized.

“I’m your ride home,” you reminded her.

“Outfits it is, but do not think we will be forgetting about this!” Flynn cried as she walked up to your bedroom.

“Whatever Flynn!” you yelled back.

“She’s right you know,” Julie slyly commented.

You just huffed in response.

The two of them did a very good job at helping maximize your california wardrobe for the mountains. Granted you had to go buy a couple things in advance, but overall, you felt confident that you could bear the cold of the mountains.

“Alright, I think you’ll survive,” Flynn proclaimed.

You closed your suitcase, and surprisingly you didn’t even have to sit on it.

“Thank you guys, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem, it was our pleasure, especially since you’re actually coming this year,” Julie said.

You dropped them both back off their houses and they were nice enough to spare you from embarrassing you in the car ride.

...........

You heard someone creeping up behind you as you grabbed your stuff to head to your second class, and as you felt arms wrap around your waist you knew it was Luke.

You turned to face him. “So I was thinking if we get one of the window rooms then we can see the snow when it falls,” he proposed.

Your face lit up. “Wait, it’s gonna snow when we’re up there?” you excitedly asked.

He happily watched your beaming face “I mean that’s what the weather said.”

“Oh my god! I haven’t seen snow since-” you paused, “actually I don’t remember, but it’s been awhile.”

“Well there’s a good chance that’s gonna happen,” he said.

“You know you’re actually required to show up to school for them to allow you to come right?” you teased. Though originally it had been a legitimate concern.

He licked his lips. “I’ve been coming everyday so I could come on this trip,” he defended himself.

“Coming to school and staying in school are two very different things Patterson,” you playfully reminded him.

He leaned in closer and his voice got quieter. “And what’s that?”

You resisted the urge to swallow and pulled away from him. “One is what I’m doing right now, because I need to go to class.”

He pulled his lips tightly before sighing. “You got me there,” he admitted.

“I always do,” you said, as you started walking off. You turned around to see him still standing there, you would be lying if you said it didn’t bring you joy.

“Go to class Luke!” you yelled back at him.

“You got it!” he saluted you and walked the other way.

You playfully rolled your eyes. That boy would be the death of you, but you supposed there were worse ways to go.

That Friday you didn’t have any school since the school board figured it was pointless to send a bunch of kids to school the day before they went on a ski trip. There wasn’t going to be any actual learning anyway. You usually would’ve spent some of the day at Julie’s; which you did, but today it wasn’t in the studio for practice. You figured since she had helped you pack, you could at least keep her company as she packed.

“So who are you sharing a room with?” you asked her, as she sorted through her jeans.

“Me and Flynn just figured we’d share one,” Julie said offhandedly.

You chose to not comment on how she was obviously forcing herself to be casual.

“Ah I see, do you know if Alex and Reg are coming?”

“Yeah, and get this Alex and Willie are sharing a room,” she gossiped.

“I’m calling it right now, they're gonna start dating by the end of the weekend,” you hypothesized.

“I 100% agree.”

The two of you spent the next hour or so just discussing what sort of things you wanted to do while you were there over the weekend, and of course how much Flynn was running around her house frantically changing outfits. You actually were excited about going, not necessarily about the actual trip, and about dealing with certain classmates, but you were looking forward to being with Luke and hanging out with your friends.

For some reason when you woke up the next morning you were a little nervous, you supposed it was because you had never been skiing or snowboarding for that matter.

You got ready pretty minimally considering you were soon to be on a five hour bus ride. None of your family was up yet so when Luke pulled into your driveway you slipped out the door.

“You got everything?” Luke asked.

“Everything except my chill,” you responded with a smile.

“You’re gonna be alright, and you don’t have to do anything there you don’t wanna do, so if you don’t wanna risk a broken leg, then don’t.”

Despite your anxieties, you knew he was still right.

“Thanks Luke.”

“Anything for you.”

When the two of you got to the bus everyone else in your group had already gotten there. You, the rest of the band, Flynn, and Willie had made a plan for the bus.

“We have arrived,” you announced to your friends as you and Luke took your spots.

“And just in time too, people kept trying to take your seats,” Willie reported.

“Thanks for saving them,” Luke responded.

The two of you continued chatting with the rest of your friends until the bus driver instructed everyone to take their seats. The majority of everyone slept on the way up there but you were too anxious to get there to sleep. Instead you watched youtube as Luke napped on your shoulder.

“Luke, Luuuuuuuuuuuke, Luooooooooooooooke,” you spoke. You were trying to wake him up quietly but you were starting to realize that wasn’t going to work.

Luckily Reggie was awake. “Oh he’s a heavy sleeper, that’s not gonna work.”

Reggie basically got himself so he was dangling off both sides of his chair before yelling in his ear.

Luke awakened with a jolt, looking fairly startled.

You weren’t entirely sure whether you should laugh, throw Reggie under the bus, or maybe both.

“What happened?” Luke asked.

“I woke you up,” Reggie answered innocently.

“By yelling in my ear?” Luke groggily questioned.

Reggie quickly tried to backpedal himself out of this situation. “I mean I don’t think the method is relevant, the important thing is that you’re up.”

Luke wasn’t awake enough to deal with the situation at hand. He just chose to lay his head back on your shoulder.

By the time you had made it to the hotel you were ready to collapse. Luke laughed when you flung yourself onto one the beds.

“Should I be worried?” he asked, mostly as a joke.

“No,” you smiled and rubbed your face, “I’m just really tired.”

“You couldn’t sleep on the bus?” he guessed.

“Yeah,” you groaned.

“You know what would help?” he asked.

“Do tell,” you inquired, from your face down position.

“This,” he said, before he jumped on the bed beside you. He curled his warm body around you and pulled you in.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yes,” you responded. You attempted to melt further into him. You laid there in a comfortable silence for a couple of minutes.

“Luke we should probably go do things,” you suggested. You attempted to get up but he pulled you back down.

You stayed with him but you turned around so you were facing him. “Luke?”

“Yes, y/n?”

You bit your lip, you had to admit, it was pretty cute. “Are you going to let me get up?” you asked.

He looked into your eyes lovingly. “Well if you’re trying to leave then no.”

“So that would be a no.”

“Well if you look at it that way then yeah,” he admitted with a mischievous smile on his face.

“Luke come o-” the rest of your sentence didn’t quite make it out. Your smart boyfriend decided to use your weak spot on your back against you.

“You wanna go now?” he teased.

“Not necessarily,” you lazily responded.

You could feel your willpower fading as the light stokes up and down your back sent a calm wave of chills through your body. But you knew if you didn’t use your chance now there was a good chance you weren’t getting out of that bed today.

“Luke come on we gotta go,” you whined. It’s not like you weren’t enjoying yourself, you most definitely were, but your friends had to be wondering where the two of you were.

“Alright, alright, fine,” he gave in.

“Can I have a kiss though?” he sweetly pleaded.

You gladly agreed, but you realized his plan of not leaving the room hadn’t quite ended when the kiss started leading down to your jaw.

“Luke you’re not sly,” you laughed.

“Oh is that so?” he asked, as he moved down to your jawline.

You nodded your head.

“Then why aren’t you moving?” he purred.

Okay, so he maybe had a point.

“You can tell me to stop,” he reminded you. He looked into your eyes for any sign of you wanting him to stop and waited.

“Unless of course, you don’t want me to stop?” he asked, with the biggest smirk you had ever seen on his face.

“Not necessarily,” you said, completely avoiding his eye contact.

He crawled over top of you, “What was that princess?” he asked.

You forced yourself to look into those beautiful blue eyes, and that devilish smile. “No, I don’t want you to stop Luke.”

“That’s what I needed to hear.” He bent his head down at your jawline, this time starting on the side of your jaw bone. He sucked at the skin and you bit your cheek down on a moan. He moved down from your neck pressing harder and making it harder for you to control yourself.

“Luke,” you moaned.

“Yes?”

“No marks.”

He smirked. “It’s a little late for that one.”

You rolled your eyes at his antics. “You suck.”

“I don’t think you're exactly in the position to be saying those sort of things,” he warned.

You raised your eyebrows. As if he thought you would back down that easily. “Really?”

He licked his lips and shrugged.

“Make me,” you insisted.

“Bad choice of words,” he threatened. In a second his shirt was off and one of his arms held your’s down and above you.

This time he noticed when you swallowed. “Nervous?” he asked, his lips quirked up.

He might’ve been starting to get to you, but you weren’t going to admit to it. “You wish Patterson,” you tested.

His head dipped down towards your collarbone. He lightly sucked on it and gradually increased his intensity until your body unwillingly gave you away and you gutturally moaned.

He jutted his chin out, the fire in his eyes on stage was nothing in comparison to this. “What about now?”

“Yes, Luke,” you groaned out.

He somehow managed to pull your shirt off with you laying down, and managed to unhook your bra with minimal difficulties.

His mouth softly sucked on the very top of your nipple.

“Fuck,” you moaned.

As he continued sucking at a rapid rate you felt the knot in your stomach twisting further, just as you thought it was going to release Luke stopped.

“How much do you want it?” he asked as he slowly pulled your pants down.

You were not going to give him the satisfaction of begging.

You felt a finger glide across your clit ever so slightly and back and forth he kept going, ever so slowly.

A whimper escaped your lips.

“Beg for me, that’s all you have to do,” he promised. He was most definitely enjoying himself.

He moved back up to your nipples but instead he moved as slow as he could, he was trying to break you.

“Come on princess, you know you want it,” he taunted.

A sole finger swiped down your pussy and your breath hitched.

“Luke please,” you moaned.

“What please? I think it has something to do with fucking you silly,” he hinted. He once again crawled over top of you to be able to see your face. Like a predator stalking prey.

“Please rail the shit out of me Luke,” you whined.

“That was all you had to say princess.”

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jointimeandspace · 3 years

Text

Hey y'all! So this is my second headcannon. I may make this a part 2 if the moment strikes or I have some ideas. But I hope you enjoy. *Edit: I just wanna say I was definitely inspired by @KathyIsWeird on AO3. Check out their story "Teach Me Tonight." It made me feel so happy, especially as a chubby person myself.

First Night (pt.1?)

It was a cloudy night as you sat on the large bed while looking out the window. The silence of the room was quiet, but not uncomfortable. It was also warm and peaceful; an orange tint bounced of the walls that were created from the fire. You were nervous. It was you first time making love with Alcina. As you stared around the room your poor stomach was in knots. What if you vomited, or fainted? You'd be so embarrassed. As much as you wanted to run away, you couldn't. You pulled the sheets around you trying to steady your nerves. The deep breath you took was so shaky and loud that you could've sworn everyone in the castle heard it, but you wanted this moment to happen, and waited for it for a long time. When you first started working at the castle, all you wanted to do was work long enough just to save up enough money to leave the village. Falling in love was the last thing you needed. At first you thought love was just a set back to your goals, but you soon found out the lady of the house felt the same way. There'd be times in the beginning when you'd catch her looking at you when she thought she was being subtle about it, wondering what was reeling through your mind when you saw her. It made you uncomfortable at first. As time went on you eventually started noticing her as well. Her pale skin with a tint of gray underneath, her beautiful full, red lips, her gray-green eyes, everything about her was ethereal. To know she wanted you, a chubby, insecure girl with glasses was almost shocking. You've always remained in the background, minding your business and doing your chores, trying not get in trouble so you won't get sent to the dungeons. You were flattered. "She clearly, must've seen something in me that I didn't and still don't see," you said to yourself.

"And so I do."

You jumped as your breath hitched in your throat. For someone as enormous as her she was awfully quiet. You stared at her wondering if she was real or not. Alcina emerged from the bathroom wearing a dark purple robe with a very prominent low cut center. She smelled of fresh gardenias and her raven hair was out of her famous bun and down to her shoulders. She looked like an angel.

"You look...divine, Alcina!"

She smiled as she walked over to her vanity to pour herself a glass of wine. "Thank you, pet! Not half as divine as you. You look so pretty in that pink negligee. You know, you should really wear more clothes that inhance those soft, sweet curves of yours," she said as she took a swig of wine. She turned her eyes at you. There was a hint of love in those eyes along with something else. They darkened as she looked you up and down. You sometimes forget she is predatory by nature. What she wants, she gets. Tonight, she gets you.

"Um, I'll try. I look in a few catalogs tomorrow. Whatever looks right I'll show you."

"Wonderful! What's on your mind, dear? I can see the gears rotating in that cute head of yours." Alcina moved over to the bed and sat on the edge. "Are you nervous, draga?"

"More than you ever know. I've never been with someone before. Sure I've had...moments with myself, but even those were awkward," you sighed. You scooted down on the bed to lay back on your pillow, looking up at the ceiling. " I felt good for a second, but I never finished. I've been close though, even though I wasn't sure what I was doing was right." You turned over on your side embarrassed.

Alcina chuckled as she stroked your leg. "Draga, there isn't only a singular way to pleasure yourself. If what you did felt good, then continue doing it. As for finishing, sometimes an orgasm shouldn't always be the end goal. If it happens, then that's all good and well. However, the more you focus on it, the harder it'll be to get there. The best feeling is to let the activity flow naturally. Do you understand?"

You turned to look at her. That was easy for her to say as she was more experienced. Over decades of practice and maybe even more to come. You felt, even though you wouldn't admit it, that your time was limited.

"I know, Alci, but I...." Anxiety was creeping in as you've never had such an in depth conversation about this with anyone, but you mustered up the courage to continue. "I just want to know what it would feel like. For so long I was convinced that I wouldn't meet anyone, and so I thought that the only way to make me feel better about...potentially being single for the rest of my life was to try to achieve orgasm, and when I didn't get there I'd be frustrated. Like I said, I felt good, but incomplete. Now that I've met you, I really wished I could've had one. At least I would've entered in this relationship having an inkling on what to do." Tears spilled from your eyes. Alcina grab her handkerchief from her robe pocket and wiped your face as she positioned herself along the headboard. She pulled you into her lap cuddling you until you calmed down. She hated to see you cry. To her sex was a simple, easy thing to pick up. But she had to remember that this was your first time. You told her at the beginning of your relationship that you wanted their first time to be meaningful. Alcina hummed and thought back to her wedding night. It was awful! The lack of communication made her feel jaded, the belittling her husband did to her made her feel dirty, and nothing was consensual at all. She kissed the top of your head.

"This is stupid, Alci! You probably think I'm a mess right now. I've often been told that nobody wants to be with virgins. We're too this, too that, too emotional, too clingy. I could go on forever...."

"Don't, love. I know how you're feeling. My first time, or any other time after that during my marriage, wasn't pleasant. I was told the same things by my husband and he took matters into his own hands. But you? I'll never do to you what he did to me; made me feel, small, useless, unimportant, unworthy, and an idiot for not knowing what I was doing. A nuisance, I was to him. And he made that known. If I didn't know what I was doing, he was going to find someone else who did. It hurt! A partner is supposed to teach and help you. Your feelings are heard and so valid. Those people that told you all that nonsense remind me of that horrid man. Of course they're having sex, but do you know if they are truly happy?" You looked up at her. You didn't know. People always talked about how much they were getting, but you didn't know their struggles aside from them bedding each other. What if their relationship was one sided? What if it was fulfillment for one and meaningless for the other? Comparison is the thief of joy you always heard.

"Sex doesn't always equate to happiness, love. It's better to be alone than to jump from one relationship to another wondering if what you feel is happiness or emptiness. Sometimes sex is used as a coping method, a random stop along this road called life with no real feeling involved. For some, it may not bother them at all and they continue where they left off. For others, it can make them feel drained and tired, and then that emptiness and depression comes creeping back again when they find out it wasn't truly love. I'm not judging you for waiting, so please don't feel bad. I wouldn't have judged you if you didn't. You would've had experience, but even then boundaries would still need to be set just like now."

Your grip around Alcina tightened. You felt as though a weight was lifted off your shoulders. You have no idea how she has so much patience, but your glad she does. "Thank you, Alci! I guess that makes me feel a little better. I was wondering if, maybe not tonight, but soon, could we try again?

"Of course darling! Whatever you want." She smiled and gave you soft kiss. "Sweetie? When the time comes, you'll find I can be a most wonderful teacher. I want to make you feel so good." Her hand trailed down to your bottom and a rush of electricity sent shivers through your body. Alcina chuckled as she gave you a dazzling smile. "We'll have to practice everyday, draga."

"Well, then professor, I can't wait to start our lessons. I want to know EVERYTHING!" You giggled and gave her another playful kiss. You were so lucky to have someone so caring and understanding as Alcina. You know your first time will be magical when it eventually comes.

#resident evil 8 #lady dimitrescu #resident evil village #village #alcina dimitrescu #alcina x reader #alcina x maiden #lady alcina dimitrescu #headcannon

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lostandsearching · 3 years

Text

Her Loss

Pairings: Maria Hill/Fem!Reader, Natasha Romanoff/Fem!Reader, Wanda Maximoff/Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N is forever searching for her, the half of her soul that will free her form the pain in her heart. But what does she do when the roads fork into different paths and into different arms. How does she differentiate from true love and fleeting lust? Can she find the arms of her destined or will she simply doom herself and let them slip through her fingers.

Warnings: WandaVision elements used, swearing (maybe?)

Word Count: 2600+

A/N: Here’s chapter 3 and we’re following our favourite little witchy! Just a shout out to @theperfectlovestory for being so patient and reading through my chapters. If you ain’t read her work, you’re missing out! As always, reblogs and feedback are welcome. Enjoy :)

Chapter One | Chapter Two

Tossing and turning, she shifts around in bed uncomfortably. Having been able to sleep the night before, exhaustion catching up to her, she is faced with another restless night. Her sleeping has improved over the months. The nights she cried to sleep was no longer a regular occurrence but she still had her difficulties.

The bed was always too unfamiliarly empty no matter how much time had passed. There was no weight by her side causing a dip in the mattress, no strong arms wrapped around her waist encasing her protectively and no cool body to nestle herself against. Her empty bed serves as just another reminder of everything she’s lost. The fates had been cruel to her, delivering her time and time again into loving arms only to rip them away from her far too soon.

Having accepted that sleep will not welcome her tonight, she looked towards the wall clock on her right. ‘It’s only four but I guess I can enjoy the quiet and watch the sunrise for a little while’ muttering to herself. She clambers out of bed throwing on a large dark blue jumper, his jumper, and a pair of jeans careful not to make any noise and stir the children next door.

She loves Clint’s children dearly and wholeheartedly. They accepted her, a stranger, as family without hesitation or fear of her abilities. Little Nate went so far as running to her with the widest grin on his face to proudly proclaim that he’s also named after her brother. This only brought happy tears to her eyes as she engulfed him in a hug. Yes, she loved them dearly and she couldn’t be more grateful to the retired archer and Laura for opening their home to her but sometimes it was too much.

The happy shrieks of laughing children reverberating off the walls, the gentle and loving touches between Laura and Clint, the pure love and pride in Clint’s eyes as he took in his family at the dinner table would sometimes be unbearable for Wanda. This was supposed to be the life she had with him. A home, he had secretly bought for them, in a place called Westview with two children at least. They would have dinner together as a family, watch their children grow up like no time has passed at all, even go trick-or-treating wearing silly family costumes. Her life would have been filled with love, laughter and warm embraces but he was gone, taking her dreams along with him.

Wanda quickly threw on her slippers and crept as quietly as possible out of the farmhouse, trying to avoid rousing the slumber of the ever attentive Hawkeye. He may need hearing aids but Wanda would bet anything that he wore them to bed to avoid being taken by surprise. One misstep on a creaky floorboard would have him rushing out with bow and arrow in hand, ready to protect his family from any intruder, only for her to flounder a lame excuse at her sneaking around at an ungodly hour.

Lady luck was on her side it would seem and she escaped the confines of the home without incident. She is instantly greeted by a cool and gentle breeze caressing her skin. She sits on the steps of the home looking up at the clear night sky as the sun teeters on the horizon, teasing the darkness with a warm glow. She lets her mind wander back to over a year ago, to the events that unfolded after her return from the now dubbed Blip.

One moment she had Vision’s lifeless body cradled against her as she sobs, only to be suddenly greeted by a strange man calling her to arms, Vision’s body nowhere to be found.

“The fate of the world needs you to come with me now if we are to have any hope in defeating Thanos” and with that he opened a portal and passed through, Wanda nipping at his heels.

She thrust herself into the chaotic battlefield, remnants of the destroyed compound strewn about, with only one goal in mind. He took the love of her life, he took her life and he’s taken her home. Thanos has taken everything from her and now she’ll make him pay.

She flew in engaging Thanos, bombarding him with all the rage coursing through her veins. Angry, red wisps encase the tyrant threatening to rip him apart but as she was within a hair’s breadth away from finding her revenge, hell fire reigned from the skies knocking her off her feet. The battle for the gauntlet waged on being passed from Avenger to Avenger in hopes of getting it to some rickety van in the distance.

When all hope seemed to be lost, the gauntlet fixed around Thanos’s hand once again with an arrogant line about inevitability escaping his lips, their one and only chance arrived.

“Stark! Now!” a sound shouts commandingly before a woman encompassed in light crashes into the purple titan throwing him back. In the few moments after the order, Tony flew into action and disabled the gauntlet remotely allowing it to fall from Thanos’s hand and to wrap itself around the ready fist of Captain Marvel.

“Yeah, I don’t think so” she retorts with a head tilt and a cocky grin painted on her face. ‘Snap’ the battlefield is once again being covered in ash but it is Thanos’s army that is falling to dust with himself crumbling soon after. Being exposed to gamma radiation in space for years and receiving power from the space stone made her more resilient to the after effects of using the infinity stones. Painful as it was, she would recover.

Wanda on the other hand wasn’t sure she would recover herself. Not only had she lost Vision and her home, in what felt like a matter of fleeting moments, she lost the chance at avenging him by her own hands. ‘He’s gone, this will have to be good enough’ she finally relents to herself.

It was only after the battle had ended, when Bruce and Captain Marvel, she later learned, had been tended to that she found out the true price of her, and the half the universe’s return. Natasha Romanoff had given her life in exchange for the soul stone, she gave her life so the world could be set right.

The icy cold Black Widow had held her at arms-length after Wanda had entered the older woman’s mind at Ultron’s behest. At the battle of Sokovia Wanda tried to remedy her mistake and prove herself but lost her first home and the life of her brother, Pietro, instead. Clint quickly took it upon himself to care for the young witch and urged Natasha to give Wanda a chance. He believed she already paid a heavy price for her mistake, she doesn’t need to be punished anymore.

With many gruelling training sessions under the watchful eye of the Black Widow, a tentative bond slowly grew, one of mentorship and then eventually friendship. Natasha grew to care for Wanda like a younger sister, although she would never out rightly admit of her fondness to the other Avengers. Wanda learnt to appreciate that the harshness delivered in Natasha’s training had served to keep Wanda alive, to give her the tools to protect herself from their dangerous job.

She had lost another loved one, Natasha on a planet and in a time she couldn’t reach, she needed to get one of them back. She approached the only man she knew that would have the unending finances to find Vision’s body. Although she still doesn’t trust Tony Stark, his hubris being the reason for her parents’ death and then his pride being the reason she was locked away in the Raft like an animal, she believed that his intentions were only ever good, even if his methods were questionable at best. He swore on his daughter’s life, much to the surprise of Wanda only having learnt of Morgan, that he would find Vision for her. She will try to trust him once more.

The compound needed to be rebuilt and Stark needed to build another time machine so that the stones could be returned to their original time, cutting off the branches, at least that’s what was explained to her.

It took no time at all, considering Stark’s wealth and that the world was also eternally grateful for the return of their loved ones, for the Avengers compound to be rebuilt. Surprisingly, especially to Stark, she continued to stay at the cabin whilst the new time machine was being built. She couldn’t possibly go back to the compound with both her love and her sister being gone.

“Please bring her back, I can’t lose anyone else. I don’t know what I’d do” she pleads with her arms around the super soldier. She pulls back from their embrace, tears threatening to fall.

“I’ll bring her back Wanda, whatever it takes” Steve promises with finality and with a gentle squeeze of her hand, he steps into the portal.

Wanda stood there with bated breath, closing her eyes and wrapping her arms around herself. She squeezes herself tightly as if holding back a terrible force and its impending explosion from within, should Steve fail. It isn’t until Bruce speaks that she tempts fate by opening her eyes, fixed on the platform once more.

“5…4…3…2…1. Ha! It worked!” he yelps, fisting the air with joy.

Wanda couldn’t believe the sight in front of her, Steve kept his word. Forest green eyes land on hazel green ones. She wasn’t too sure what happened, one moment she was standing and the next moment, she was crumpled on the floor sobbing. She finally let the tears free fall, allowing the anguish, loss and small reprieve to wash over her. ‘She came back, someone came back’ a mantra repeating itself in her mind begging to be believed.

With all the agility and grace attributed to the Widow, Natasha leapt out of Steve’s arms to engulf the younger woman in hers. As is always in the Avengers’ lives, the joy of a win is forever marred with sorrow at the cost of gaining it.

The compound having already been built, Wanda finally returned with Natasha by her side. The Avengers home was no longer filled with mirth as it once was, trauma, loss and exhaustion hangs heavy in the air. Clint had chosen to stay at the compound temporarily, with his family, to spend time with Wanda and Natasha. Tony and Rhodey chose to retire, Captain Marvel had long since returned to space but promised to visit when she was in the galaxy, Thor chose to leave the Avengers to join The Guardians in space and Vision was gone.

It was a week after Natasha’s return, a week at the compound that Wanda finally got the call she so desperately needed.

“Hey witchy, how are you liking the new digs?” Tony jokes. Wanda couldn’t help but roll her eyes as anger began bubbling beneath the surface.

“I am not in the mood for your jokes Stark” her thick Sokovian accent slipping past the cracks of her control.

Tony lets out a heavy sigh before responding. “OK kid, this isn’t a social call. I promised I’d find him but I don’t think you’re gonna like what I’m about to tell you” he tries carefully.

Her eyes are consumed with whirls of red while her hand holds the phone in a vice-like grip. “Where is he Stark?” she says through gritted teeth.

“I tried to get his body released to me this morning, but they refused. I could spend every dime I have and liquidate all my assets, they still won’t let him go claiming that he is government property since he signed the Accords.” frustration clear in his voice.

“I will get the best lawyers on the case but it will take time be…”

“Where” she interrupts with a bite in her tone.

“S.W.O.R.D”

After the events of meeting Hayward and seeing what he had done to Vision, Wanda knew she had two choices. She opted for the latter. She called Natasha as soon as she left S.W.O.R.D’s offices making her way back to her car.

“Wanda, what’s going on? You ran…” Before she could finish her questioning, she is interrupted by Wanda’s broken voice.

“S.W.O.R.D have Vision’s body and they wouldn’t let me take him home to bury him. They’re tearing him apart like an OBJECT! He gave his LIFE and they won’t even let what’s left of him find PEACE!” her anger is replaced by breaking sobs wracking through her body, ending her ability to speak any further.

“Come home now. Clint and I will fix it” She commands calmly and confidently.

Just as Wanda was the female assassin’s younger sister, she was also the archer’s daughter. No-one messes with the two deadly assassins’ family and escapes unscathed.

True to the Widow name, Natasha seduced and hacked her way into S.W.O.R.D’s data server and extracted details on questionable S.W.O.R.D activities including Hayward’s isolated server with files and data on his less than legal proclivities.

Clint, being true to his ethos, was crawling through S.W.O.R.D ventilation shafts, planting well placed audio and visual recording devices, courtesy of Stark himself.

With all the pieces at hand, Natasha only needed the perfect person for the execution. Her love for Wanda saw her doing the unimaginable for the first time. She asked for help.

“Maria, I need you to do something for me. I need you to get Vision’s body from S.W.O.R.D. Clint and I have all the data you’ll need to make it happen” her steady voice not betraying the pounding in her heart.

“Why would I get on S.W.O.R.D’S radar exactly?” Maria responds emotionlessly. She would have done it without question of course, but she can’t let Natasha know that. After all, she has a reputation to maintain.

“Because I will owe you a favour” Natasha retorts through clenched teeth. A pregnant pause fills the air before Maria responds.

“Send me everything you have and give me 48 hours” without another word, Maria ends the call and Natasha releases a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding.

Maria, always a woman of her word, saw to it that 48 hours later Vision’s body was being returned to Wanda at the compound under S.H.I.E.L.D escort. Wanda may not have given her lover the death that he asked of her nor the vengeance that he was owed, but she could give him the burial that he deserved and the farewell she needed.

All the Avengers, including Rhodey, Tony and Thor, returned one last time to pay their respects, to honour their fallen ally and friend. Wanda laid to rest the love of her life and yet another piece of her heart.

“You know, you still aren’t as quiet as Nat” he teases taking a seat on the step beside her. “Penny for your thoughts?” he gently prods.

“Thinking about him” Wanda whispers, still unable to say Vision’s name since the funeral. “Thinking about what you, Nat and even Tony have done for me since”

He turns to look at the young woman and sees not only pain in her eyes, but a steady determination that wasn’t there before. He keeps quiet, allowing her to gather her thoughts without interruption.

“I think…no, I know I’m ready to go home Clint” she says with growing confidence. She finally turns to face the archer. She sees time, suffering and loss etched on his aging face but those are all muted by the brightness in his blue-grey eyes full of love and pride.

Wanda has survived the loss of her parents, her brother, her first home and her lover. She’s tired of surviving and she is finally ready to go home to start living.

“I’ll tell Nat so she can get a jet ready and prepared for you” and with that, they spend the last few moments together, sitting in silence and basking in the warm glow of the sunrise full of hope and gentle promises.

Chapter Four

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cherrynojutsu · 3 years

Text

Title: Like Gold

Summary: Sasuke grapples with love and intimacy regarding his developing relationship with Sakura after returning to the village from his journey of redemption. Kind of a character study on Sasuke handling an intimate relationship after dealing with PTSD and survivor’s guilt in solitude for so long. Blank period, canon-compliant, Sasuke-centric, lots of fluff and pining, slowly becomes a smut fest with feelings.

Disclaimer: I did not write Naruto. This is a fan-made piece solely created for entertainment purposes.

Rating: M (eventual nsfw-ness)

AO3 Link - FF.net Link - includes beginning/ending author's notes

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Chapter 7/?: Catalysts

Sasuke doesn’t indulge in baser needs often, despite the frustrating paradox that is the male endocrine system’s apparent determination to make him do so. He finds it feels… empty, after. Like there’s supposed to be something more, but instead there’s just whatever is situated above his head to stare at while his breathing levels out, an interminable abyss of silence and stars, or tree foliage, or apartment ceiling. Impulses and feelings of a sexual nature are probably normal for anyone his age, but in the past, satiating desires like this has made him feel guilty, given the context.

When he's not plagued by nightmares rife with gore and blood and bodies, or the occasional aching memory, his subconscious takes the opportunity to bombard him with dreams of a suggestive nature, having deduced somehow that it’s the most effective method to get him to… tend to things.

This variety of dream customarily involves pale pink hair, multifaceted eyes, and soft fingertips, branded into the part of his brain that controls his most base instincts with a hot iron.

He notes begrudgingly as he gazes at plain plaster above him, brows furrowed, that ostensibly, it works well enough, if the intricate mess of thoughts and feelings in his head and on his abdomen are anything to go by.

Sasuke would never admit it to anyone, but Sakura has headlined exclusively in nearly every sexually-charged dream he's ever had, and resultingly the majority of his sentient thoughts while indulging outside of dreaming, too. When they were Genin, it was innocent enough; he had reasoned that, being the main girl his age he associated with, it made sense his inadvertent dreams, beyond the scope of his control, involved her. He'd shaken it off in those early days as the by-product of the developing hormonal cocktail that is the pubescent masculine mind, and ignored the part of himself that kind of had a crush on her even then. Or definitively more than a crush, after the Chunin Exams and the hospital and jealousy.

He had tried convincing himself of the same thing at fourteen, once he'd left the village and had attempted to sever all bonds. It didn’t work, though; by that point he knew better, knew what the feeling he was trying to squash actually was.

Which meant it didn’t work at fifteen, either.

Nor sixteen, and definitely not seventeen, eighteen, or nineteen.

All of that has been wholly indecent on its own in the past, causing him to feel shameful every time it happens, and even more ashamed if it’s a rare day where he’s weak enough to act on it, a day where he wakes up mere seconds from an edge rather than minutes.

But this morning, he woke up on the tail end of all of that with the addition of freckles , of all things to fixate on, and he just knows he's never going to forget about them now, that they’re branded into his grey matter in perpetuity. Freckles just above the interior of a shoulder, eight of them, a small scattering he had been pressing his lips to, listening to a softly whispered Sasuke-kun, reaching around her with his only arm, so he could make her say his name like that again.

It is far from the first time he’s touched himself to the thought of Sakura, but it is the first time he’s indulged since they’ve been… together.

Except this time felt… different.

Less like an unrealistic reverie he should try to abstain from and more like an eventuality. Less guilt, too, or rather, almost none, because he’s in a relationship with her now, and he’s pretty sure he’s supposed to have feelings like this regarding her. Not that he is anywhere near ready to do anything about them, because he absolutely is not; he’s not certain he even comprehends that level of vulnerability, to touch another person and allow yourself to be touched by them, though he badly wants to, someday.

No, Sasuke doesn’t indulge in baser needs often… but he did this morning, when he woke up teetering just on the precipice, fantasizing about tiny tan flecks seen and unseen, and he’s trying to work through how he feels about it, this guilt surrounding the fact of not feeling guilty like he ordinarily does, as well as the lingering curiosity he’s struggling to force down regarding how many other freckles Sakura has.

Even moreso, he yearns for soft words that he has often thought may be sentimental to the point of being utterly quixotic. It's why he doesn’t typically submit to this kind of inclination in the first place; it’s meaningless on one’s own, he secretly thinks, though he has nothing to compare it to. No sense of connection or true lasting fulfillment like he imagines there must be, for people to talk about it the way they do; just pleasure that's there for a blinding scattered second and gone the next, with nothing tenderhearted or meaningful in the moments following as his vision refocuses and he picks up the pieces.

He stares at his ceiling, an aporia of longing and complicated compulsions ricocheting in the hallways of his head, or perhaps from his skull to the roof and back again, an absurd push and pull that leaves him with more questions than answers.

Has she ever thought about him the way he thinks about her?

What would it sound like, Sasuke-kun, when she’s like that?

Is it okay to feel like this, now? To think about her in this regard?

Sasuke is accustomed to not sleeping well - it comes with the territory of his lived experience, an unfortunate fact of life he’s somewhat learned to deal with - but during the mission to Sand, he'd slept fairly restfully, though in short increments of five or six hours. That's apparently the tipping point of how long he gets to go without being sojourned by some variety of vision in the night.

He eventually makes his way to the shower, using torrid water and soap to double cleanse what’s left of his mess. That's a big contributor to his consternation, too; it's so embarrassingly messy that it’s impossible to imagine ever doing anything like it with her . He flips the dial to cold after he’s bathed for the better portion of five minutes, because serpens caput is still burned into his retinas, and he’s hoping against hope to freeze it out of himself like he has tried to do with shame in the past.

It doesn’t work; it just induces shivering, algidity overwhelming the senses but doing nothing to distract the mind.

He shoves his face into his book after, desperate for the distraction a proverbial fiction featuring an old fisherman can provide and thinking once again that he needs to acquire a lamp. Anything to get the thought of pressing his lips to her freckles out of his head, because he’s pretty sure if he keeps thinking about it, he’ll have to take care of things for the second time today, and then he really won’t know how to feel.

So when a banging erupts on his apartment door shortly following eight, followed by a shout of, “TEME! I'm here, let’s go!”, all he can think is finally, because he knows it will at least get his mind off of this strange lack of guilt and a curiosity he’s not ready to unpack yet. The book helped, but he thinks he needs the challenge a fight against Naruto can provide to truly leave behind this level of prurience. He doesn’t know how he’s going to look her in the eye when they meet at three as they planned, otherwise.

Sasuke shoves on his sandals and grabs his chokuto before opening the door. “So you finally showed. Thought you'd sleep all morning.”

Naruto’s eyes narrow, indignant and already launching into a retort. Good. Maybe he’ll get some iota of order knocked back into him, enough to put compelling constellations away for the time being.

XXX

Sasuke feels monumentally better by noon. It’s another draw, an absolute whirlwind of swinging limbs that made it impossible to focus on anything else. He didn’t take joy in it necessarily, and he suspects Naruto bruised his ulna bone to the extent it almost cracked, but it helps, the diversion of pain; the tinge he feels when he moves it is a welcome hindrance. They’d stuck mainly to taijutsu and clashing weaponry, so physically, he’s pretty exhausted.

They’re resting in the dirt, making a valiant attempt at rehydrating. It’s moderately hot for this time of year, barely on the cusp of mid April, but it’s seeming like the Konoha heat will be returning with the same vengeance it always does. A small trickle of sweat sinks its way down his back.

Sasuke feels nearly normal again. Or normal to the extent he generally feels, anyways. He gets the urge to do something good - to tip the scale, so to speak.

"...The cutting board works. Thank you." It’s not what he’s most thankful for right now, but it’s a nice thing to say as substitution.

His friend grins at him. "Welcome! It was all me, by the way. Hinata-chan didn't even help me pick it out!" Naruto scratches his head, downing more water. He’s moving rather slowly, as if he is sore, too; Sasuke thinks perhaps he came close to beating him this round.

They stare upwards for a while, soaking in the sun as clouds roll lazily by. Birds fly overhead, finches and song sparrows twittering their selections, collecting materials to build more nests for this new season. It’s another effective distraction, one that fills him with a sense of nostalgia, replacing his earlier sense of compunction regarding the mystifying concept of physical love and the whims that accompany it.

Naruto speaks up after a bit. "Ne, teme, wanna go to the market with me? Hinata-chan asked me to get some groceries and some stuff for the backyard."

Sasuke glances at his teammate and contemplates. It can't hurt. He did want to pick up potatoes to make actual curry with, and he could get some other things, too. He'll still have time to shower before he meets Sakura at the hospital.

"...Sure."

Naruto takes longer to rise than he does, shuffling carefully as if he is in pain, but once he’s standing, he seems fine enough, stupid grin slapped on his face at Sasuke’s agreement to go with. They set off in the general direction of his building so he can drop off his weapon first. He gets dirty looks sometimes, walking around, though it’s not nearly as bad as when he first returned and it doesn’t bother him on the same level that it used to. When he’s with Naruto or Sakura, he gets less of them, but he can't imagine a sword strapped to his back in the market will do much to help his reputation.

Naruto doesn't allow the easy silence to last. "Y'know, teme, it's really good to have you back in the village. It feels like everything's finally coming together. We'll have to do some fun stuff this summer. And also in the fall!” Gears are turning behind cerulean eyes, and he adds, ”...Hmm, and the winter, too!"

"...Yeah." He stares at the mountain, thinking about what cherry blossom trees look like in summer and fall and winter. It will be nice to see the one across the street change colors throughout the seasons. Or the one on the hill, where they're going later today. He has seen their like numbering in the thousands, scattered everywhere on his journey - he’s highly cognizant of them, for obvious reasons - but he hasn’t been granted the privilege of watching the same one through the whole of a year’s growth cycle in a long time.

"Sakura-chan seems really cheery lately, too. Can't imagine why." The second sentence is said flippantly, without any real conviction, as if Naruto knows exactly why.

Sasuke glances at his teammate, neck warming and heart skipping a little at the mention of her. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of hearing that Sakura is happy from secondhand sources; it makes him feel like he’s doing something right for once. Maybe not all his impulses are complicated in nature enough to require dissection, as he was accustomed to doing when he was away; spending time with her is one, and he's been indulging it often.

He briefly entertains the idea of outright telling Naruto that they're together, then, but the dobe is moving on before he comes up with the words. "Well, anyways. Wanna spar Monday morning, if neither of us get a mission by then?”

That’s… specific. Maybe he doesn’t need to say anything to him, after all; he’s sure it’s no coincidence that Naruto is asking about the exact time period Sakura is busy training with Ino, probably as aware of her schedule as Kakashi is. Their old sensei might have told him, he supposes, or maybe Sakura said something; Sasuke wonders when he last saw her.

“...Sure. If you think you can handle it.”

The response he gets is a slug on the left shoulder, but it’s not overly hard. Sasuke narrows his eyes in response more out of habit than any real malice. He sees as Naruto’s hand retreats and slips out of a fist that words are written on his palm. He didn’t notice it throughout the morning due to their hands constantly being locked around weapons or thrown in punches, and he resists the urge to roll his eyes; it's likely a grocery list.

Naruto leans against the brick downstairs while Sasuke drops off his sword, and then they head to the main market area as the dobe chatters. It’s fairly busy, it being a Saturday, but it’s not intolerably so; most people are busy eating around now.

Sasuke is completely unsurprised when Naruto beelines straight for the noodles; naturally he would be out of them. He takes the opportunity to procure a blend of wild rice. Thus far he only has white and brown in his own pantry, and he’s been trying to eat it often. He's always liked rice, but it’s high in calories, too, an easy way to try putting on weight. Another variety to choose from would be beneficial.

He trails after his friend to the baking supplies next, where Naruto examines containers of flour and sugar. Sasuke concludes Hinata must bake, because he’s confident any cookie prepared by the dobe could not possibly be edible. While his teammate is occupied, Sasuke turns the corner and procures a half dozen eggs, a large bag of potatoes, and two different varieties of tomatoes. The extra five pounds of weight held in the crook of his arm doesn’t do wonders for his bruised bone situation, but it’s not wholly unbearable; he’s fairly used to dealing with pain.

“Hinata-chan said to go to the gardening stall on the north end,” Naruto says once they’ve paid and exited the building, so they begin a course in that general direction. “She said they have the best perennial bulbs; that means they come back every year!”

Sasuke twitches, surprised he can even pronounce the word perennial if he’s lived this long without knowing what one is.

“Anyways, she wants to plant some, uh…” His voice trails off, and he peeks at his hand, where Sasuke now sees the names of flowers written in feminine writing that has to be Hinata’s.

Of course. Like he could spell the words, let alone read his own sloppy handwriting.

“Iris, phlox, and uh… echo-na-na-chee-ah.”

“Echinachea,” Sasuke corrects dully, giving him a withering look.

“Sure! That! She wants to plant those in the backyard, kind of line the house with them, since the front is looking pretty nice now. She said to get bulbs; they root better. They might bloom this year, but if not, they’ll for sure come in next year!”

“...And she entrusted you with this?” Sasuke asks, raising an eyebrow.

Naruto just laughs, utterly unphased. “Duh, that’s what the list is for, teme. Hinata-chan is super smart like that. Putting it on my hand makes sure I don’t lose it!”

They meander to the northern edge of the market, past the congregation of other stalls selling seeds and garden starters. It's getting towards the end of planting season for Fire Country, but there is still plenty to choose from here, allegorical gates of green swinging open in salutation. They pass some tomato plant starters, already starting to climb their cages, but Sasuke decides against it; his hand is full presently, and the bone still kind of hurts, and none of them are red heirloom tomatoes anyways, being smaller variations like plum or cherry or grape. He likes all tomatoes, honestly, but if he was going to grow one, he’d just want the one of a favorite to worry about. Repotting a starter would also require a planter, which he doesn’t have; another thing to carry.

The stall Naruto leads them to is probably the nicest one there, judiciously laid out and everything labeled neatly with precise calligraphy. The few tables the vendor has are overflowing with perennial starters, but Naruto goes to the three vertical displays of seeds and bulbs, so tall they are at eye level with both of them. They’re filled to the brim with diminutive packages, printed with large pictures of the flowers they contain the beginnings of, along with genus names and common names in smaller text. The blond examines them, surveying his hand, then the display, then back to his hand again in scrutiny.

Sasuke watches, resisting the urge to sigh and waiting for the inevitable.

“Hmm… I guess this would be a lot easier if I knew what any of these looked like. Gonna have to read them all.”

Sasuke rolls his eyes and steps forward to point to the section of iris bulbs to start with. He gives him a minute to work out which colors to pick, observing the throng of people entering and exiting around them, young and old and in-between.

Phlox are next; he directs his teammate to the appropriate section, where there are quite a few options of hues. Naruto examines them as if he is making a grand decision transformative in nature, mumbling to himself.

“Hmm… She likes blue and purple. Maybe I should…”

His own gaze wanders as he tunes Naruto out, taking in pictures of begonias and caladium on plastic shiny in the sunlight, before his vision locks on the far display.

He wanders over to it as if his body is moving of its own accord.

There are several varieties of lilies, he learns as he scans the packaging, oriental, trumpet, and what is apparently called nerine. White nerine lilies had been the variety his mother grew, lining their yard with curved porcelain petals, clusters emanating from many single stems.

He sets his groceries at his feet to free up his hand, picking up one of the packages to read the instructions on the back. His arm aches as he does so, but he couldn’t care less.

Nerine lily bulbs require good drainage. If there are still puddles in the prospective planting area 5-6 hours after rain, locate another site, or amend the soil with organic material to raise levels 2-3 inches. Nerine lilies also require soil that is somewhat gritty, though it also must be organically rich. Adding compost may increase nutrient content.

In spring, choose a location in full sun. If you are in a hotter region, site them where they will receive morning sun and afternoon shade, and plant the bulbs with an inch of the slender top above the soil surface. The top of the bulb is the area that looks like the stem of an onion. Install bulbs 8 to 11 inches apart for a massed look.

Nerine bulbs develop foliage that gather sun rays and strengthen the plants during the spring and summer months. Flower stalks develop in the fall. Provide water when the plants are actively growing, and very little when they are dormant.

You may cut the final flower stems to display decoratively. This will not hurt the plants and the cuts last long periods of time indoors. After they finish blooming for the year, cut off any remaining flower stalks. Your plants will rest for the winter months before sending up new growth in the springtime. Over time, nerine lilies will form clumps. They like to be crowded, so don’t feel pressed to divide them unless flower production begins to decrease. Clumps can then be dug, split apart, and moved to other parts of the garden, or shared with friends.

When Sasuke looks up, deep in thought, he notices Naruto searching for what he assumes is echinacea, flitting stiffly at random between the first two displays and scratching his head. Wordlessly with the package of lily bulbs still in hand, Sasuke points to the bottom right corner of the first, where several color selections are.

“Thanks, teme!” Naruto plows back to the specified stand and stoops down comically slowly, though Sasuke barely sees, gaze drawn pensively back to the packet he was examining.

The memorial stone has decent drainage, aside from the occasional hard rain like last weekend; that will become less common as the weather warms, and one or two monsoons a summer never drowned his mother’s lilies. Shade in the afternoon could be an issue, though. There’s a large oak tree on the west side that might cast some protection over it, but he only ever visits under the cover of night, so he’s unsure. He would have to examine the trajectory in person to gauge.

He considers the market bag the groceries were handed to him in earlier, studying it closely.

Carefully, he puts the package back where he found it, though his eyes linger on it. He’s no gardener, not like Sakura is, and besides, his arm hurts.

XXX

He’s leaning up against one of the blue columns outside of the hospital when Sakura emerges at three, sprightly as ever. She’s holding the two journals and the medical text from their first trip to the library; she said yesterday that she needed to return them, but there shouldn’t be any new ones she needs to check out just yet. He hadn’t stayed terribly long after they’d finished the tenmusu because he needed to shower and write his mission report, but they’d made plans to swing by the library and journey back up the hillside to read together again. There was also mention of possibly picking up food afterwards, to take to her place. Hazel Wood must be in her tote, hooked around her shoulder.

“Sasuke-kun,” she greets cheerfully. “Whew. It’s getting warm out already.”

“...It is,” Sasuke comments before he extends his hand for her texts, his own already held there, a silent offer to carry them for her.

She blushes as she passes them to him, sliding them into his hand. His eyes drift to the freckle on her cheek, and he wipes his mind blank by sheer willpower alone as they head east. The books aren’t as heavy as the groceries had been earlier, so it doesn’t hurt as much, but he's wondering at this point if the bone might actually have a small crack. He thinks he should ask her to look at it; maybe later, at her apartment.

“My balcony days may be numbered by now, at least until the fall comes,” Sakura observes as they meander.

He contemplates. “...Do you sit out there often?” It is so utterly befitting of her that he thinks he can picture it, her reading out there, surrounded by plants. He wonders if she ever admires the night sky. Their team had stargazed sometimes, on missions that first year as Genin.

Green eyes settle on him from his right. “I like to, when it’s nice out. A lot of times in the summer it gets too hot, though there is an occasional night when it’s cool enough. Fall is really the best for it. You can see the changing leaves from above. Even if it's a chillier day, it’s pleasant with some tea and a blanket in the evening."

He debates for a long moment, but decides against bringing up stout squirrels or chestnut-flavored everything or Naruto slipping on a leaf.

“...It sounds nice,” he comments simply instead, wondering if he’ll be invited to sit with her on her balcony, once fall arrives. They would have to sit kind of close; the space doesn’t seem very big from below, and it's cluttered with greenery.

Sakura smiles up at him, a look that says she agrees with his assessment.

Then, she offers softly, "You can sit out there sometime with me, if you'd like."

His neck warms; all he can do is nod and avert his gaze elsewhere, an abundance of something tender and sweet flaring to life in his belly.

Returning the books barely takes two minutes; they’re wandering towards the outskirts of the mountain in short order. Sakura sprawls in the same spot she did last time, so he takes up the same position, too, leaning up against the trunk of the tree, stable and strong.

And then his eyes catch on another freckle she has, this one near her elbow, and all he can think about is the slightly textured consistency of his ceiling, and whether the impulse to press his lips to her skin without guilt was an okay thing to feel.

She reads and he more contemplates than reads for about an hour, sprawled beneath the scant amount of shade provided by this tree that has lost its petals, trading them in for florets of a greener variety. It’s pleasant, once he can drown his inner disarray of thoughts. He eventually gets through a sliver of his book, though turning the pages is a little cumbersome, tinged lightly with pain. Perhaps he shouldn’t wait until later to ask her to examine his arm.

Sakura finishes her own book, though she keeps the pressed petal between its pages; she must have gotten through more of it while he was on the way to and from Suna. She just reclines there, after, looking up at the sky with her arms at her sides, near exactly the relaxed pose she used to lie in when they were younger.

Sasuke finishes the passage he’s on, and marks his place with the petal she’d plucked from his hair last week, before pointedly setting the text aside and following her eyes to the azure. Fluffy clouds are floating by as the sun inches closer to the west horizon, pushed steadily by the breeze.

“How is Ichika’s recommendation?” She questions.

“...Interesting.” He genuinely is enjoying reading it, despite his aberration.

Her head angles towards him, lying against a gnarled root at a slightly different angle. Her expression is curious, like she’s encouraging him to elaborate.

“Simple, but heavy with metaphors.” He considers for a second, then adds, “You might like it. Poetic.”

Full lips twist upwards. “Maybe I’ll read it next. Her recommendations are usually pretty apt; she gets a good read on people.”

“...How was yours?”

“Hmm.” She pauses, as if thinking it over. “A girl and her mother who get caught up in some bad luck. They inherit an estate - that’s where the title comes from - and supernatural things start happening. It’s kind of a story within a story situation; the grandmother they inherited the house from was an author, so they start going back and reading her writing for clues.”

“...A mystery.” It seems like she’ll read any genre. Mysteries would probably entertain her; she’s always liked to solve things.

She laughs, music to his ears. “Yeah, I suppose it is. It was pretty good. Well written; better than the last one.”

There is a pause.

“...Maybe I’ll read it next,” he echoes, her same words from earlier.

Green sparkles at him, amused before she shifts back towards the firmament.

“...Sounds like a book club.”

It is the most Sakura joke. He huffs a ghost of a laugh as more gauzy clouds drift idly by. It is peaceful, sitting here underneath the same sky as her, observing in easy silence through branches with fresh emerald buds.

And then Sasuke flexes his forearm, shifting slightly, and it still hurts. He considers; she probably won’t mind.

"...I think Naruto cracked my arm bone," he finally confides.

She turns to him, expression fluctuating immediately into one of disquiet, pink brows knotting closer in concern. He blinks and she's standing already, walking over and sitting cross-legged in the nearest open space, an indent in gnarled roots that she navigated through and found a place in as if it were nothing.

Wordlessly, Sasuke holds it out for her to inspect once she’s seated, and she gently rests her fingertips on his forearm.

"It’s from this morning?” Sakura asks, looking concerned in a way that makes his heart thump a little. Or maybe it’s from her hands encircling his skin.

He nods; she must have deduced that they trained earlier. She prods gently before threading green chakra beneath his skin towards the bone, probing for a break.

She frowns. "Oblique fracture in the ulna, though it's very slight and non-displaced.” Her gaze flicks up to him, and all at once, it’s the exam room again, him hyper aware of how close she is to him even though this is clinician Sakura. “I’ll fix it; you really shouldn't have been carrying anything on it."

It takes him a moment to realize she’s referring to him carrying her books earlier, because he’s thinking about the groceries from the market, which were definitively heavier. Her proximity and the aroma of tart berry and the freckle on her cheekbone are all incredibly distracting. Especially the freckle. He peers at her fingers, glowing verdant, and notices one on the inner portion of her right wrist, too.

"...Sorry." He says finally, flicking his eyes back up to her nervously after a long minute is spent mending marrow back together. She inclines her head back down to his arm, apparently accepting his apology for not mentioning it sooner. It's an odd sensation; he can feel the crack fusing from the inside out, ataractic chakra seeping into the diaphysis to fortify.

He feels like he should clarify, so he adds as she works, eyes fixed on her face which has settled in concentration, “I thought it was just bruised at first.” She nods as if that makes sense, working on it for another minute or so without glancing up.

He hopes she's not mad at him. Sasuke shifts his gaze downwards, something in him sinking.

“Flex it, then bend, please,” she requests, not moving her digits; she must need to feel the arm move to determine if it’s healed. He does as she asks and it’s notedly improved, no lingering pain.

“It’s better. Thank you.” He looks upwards just as she does, hoping the jade will still be soft on charcoal.

It is, startlingly so, and she’s flushing all of a sudden, dropping her hands from his arm and rising to her feet a step away, as if she, too, just realized how close they were. It's different here, daylight and not part of their routine like her entryway is becoming.

“You’re welcome,” she says somewhat hastily, complexion darkening. He’s not sure he’s much better; his neck is warm, and he remembers very specifically where each of her fingers had just been on his skin, like the ten points of contact are singed into his epidermis, and likely his grey matter, too.

As he tries to force his pulse to even out, Sakura adds, softly, “You could have just come in with him.”

His brows furrow in confusion. “...What?”

Sakura blinks, countenance appearing as if she is sorting through a problem in her head. Pink dissolves back to her normal coloring.

“Naruto came in with a slipped back rib, earlier today. I assumed it was from sparring with you.” She rolls her eyes, then. “He went and got groceries before coming in; he had them with him. Luckily nothing chilled; he had to wait for a bit.”

"...He didn't say anything about his rib." Now the slow rising and crouching is making more sense.

She sighs, closing her eyes for a second as if something has become clear, but she only replies, "Ah. Of course."

"...Wouldn’t shut up?"

"...Yeah." She turns away slightly, cheeks stained anew for some reason; it makes him curious what their third teammate babbled to her about. "He said as I was kicking him out that he was going to plant flower bulbs with Hinata this afternoon. He showed me the ones he picked. It’s good timing; the perfect time of year to plant some. Pretty soon it'll be too warm."

He lets those words drizzle slowly into his being, a little gentler than a summer monsoon.

"...Our next Hokage can't pronounce echinacea," he eventually tells her.

She chuckles with mirth, a sweet sound he finds relieving; she must have gathered he was present for that endeavor, now, and she can't be too mad at him if he can still make her laugh. Sasuke inwardly hopes she doesn’t gather that he also got groceries; he doesn’t think she’d be very impressed. It was kind of stupid to do that with a questionable arm, in retrospect.

"No," Sakura acknowledges finally, appearing highly entertained. "And he didn’t know what a perennial was until this morning, yet he’s planting an army of them. Probably without reading the directions."

They look over the village together for a lengthy moment in which he considers text printed on the back of a white package.

Then she says his name, so quietly it’s almost a whisper. "Sasuke-kun.”

He angles to her, and sweet jade is on him again, ebbing seafoam cresting as the late afternoon sunlight hits her.

"Thank you for telling me about your arm. In the future, please come to the hospital, if I'm working. You can wait in my office, if you’d prefer. I don't mind; use the window.” Her expression changes to troubled, and suddenly she is no longer the clinician version of Sakura; everything is tinged with something more, something that burns him in its intensity. “You shouldn’t just… suffer in silence, if something hurts. Even if you think it’s nothing. Please tell me."

Oh. She’s not mad, just worried. Heat grazes his ears, and he swallows, staring down at his forearm.

He wants to be close to her. He really does.

"Okay,” he agrees, and means it, carefully meeting green.

They head down the hill together to seek dinner before the rush hits, deciding to go to the yakitori stand she mentioned when he first returned. She chatters about how Naruto wants to have a bonfire in his backyard, once summer’s here and everything is planted.

“...He’s excited about his yard,” Sasuke comments after they’ve ordered, leaning against the wall of the exterior waiting for their takeout. He requested his without the sauce, since Sakura said it’s on the sweeter side for yakitori.

Sakura grins, and she’s really pretty, shadows of a nearby tree dappling her skin, cheeks still red because he paid. It’s only fair; she’s been feeding him. “Yeah, he is. I’d like to see their flowers and garden in the back, eventually. I’m sure once they’ve got it how they want it, they’ll have all kinds of get-togethers back there. Last year we carved pumpkins at their place, instead of at Ino’s and Sai’s; there’s less mess to clean up if it’s outside. He said today that you should come this year.”

“...What?”

She blinks as if remembering something, then smiles sheepishly. “So I never mentioned this, because it happened after I…” She flushes, and she looks away for a second. “...After I sent a letter for the month already, but Sai learned about this artistic thing they do in the Land of Woods, a couple years ago.” Her gaze shifts back to his. “They hollow out pumpkins and carve designs into them, in late October. Warding off evil spirits as they go into the cooler season or something; they put them on their doorsteps with candles in them so the carvings light up the night. It’s odd, but I think it’s become a tradition now. It’s fun, once you get the hang of it. We roast the seeds with salt and Hinata bakes pumpkin bread.”

That sounds entirely odd and completely characteristic of Sai; he supposes there is the artistic angle to consider. Sasuke passed through the Land of Woods three separate times, but never in the fall. “What kind of designs?”

She smiles as if she’s trying not to laugh; his expression must be that of one who is exceedingly perplexed. He supposes it’s not an expression he wears often. “Well, they’re supposed to be scary, I think, but we don’t really do well at making them that way. They’re more funny or decorative. Sai makes pretty good ones, I guess, mean faces with sharp teeth.”

“...What do you carve?”

Her eyes twinkle. “I tried a leaf, the first year, and a crescent moon the second. Sai and I teamed up to carve one for Kakashi-sensei, too, last year; a scarecrow with a cat.”

A crescent moon is not at all what he would have guessed she’d gravitate towards; he thinks immediately of the Six Paths Yin Seal that once adorned a hand he no longer has. Then he comprehends the final part of that sentence.

“...A cat?”

“Oh. Yeah, he got a cat.”

“...His summons are dogs.”

She giggles. “Yeah, Naruto and I thought it was weird at first, too, but he does kind of seem like he’d be more of a cat person overall, the more we thought about it.” Sakura shrugs. “He’s in the village most of the time now, being Hokage, so I guess he thought he could be around enough to take care of one? They’re more low-maintenance than a dog would be. I usually get tasked with feeding it and changing its litter, when he travels to watch the Chunin and Jonin Exams.”

Momentarily, he wonders if Sakura knows what’s under Kakashi’s mask; their old sensei allowing her into his space in his absence may have given her opportunities for some form of low-key reconnaissance on the matter.

Then his brain seizes on another notion, one that’s far more amusing, because she said she teamed up with Sai, and that can only mean one thing.

“...What does Naruto carve?”

Sakura’s grin widens as if she perceives exactly what thought he’s just had. She probably does; she knows him well. “He’s terrible at it. His never look like anything; just orange mush. He loves it, though, and Hinata puts it on their front step anyway.”

He snorts. Figures.

A bell dings, so they peer back in, and sure enough, their food is ready. Sakura steps forward to collect it, thanking the worker, but as she turns, she pauses.

Sasuke follows her gaze, and sees none other than their third teammate in the street, walking their direction and waving emphatically. He’s wearing a different pair of pants, knees absolutely covered in dirt and grass stains.

“Oi, teme! Sakura-chan!”

Sakura glances up to him before swiveling towards the road, their food in hand; Sasuke trails close behind, pushing apart the hanging banners of the stand as he steps beyond the threshold of the restaurant.

“Naruto,” Sakura greets when they’re out in the open.

“...Dobe.”

“Looks like you’ve planted everything,” Sakura says more than asks, gesturing to his pants as evidence.

“Hehe, yep, all of ‘em! It was work, but it will be worth it, later in the year.” Naruto scratches his head, grinning. Sasuke lets those words sink in, too, drenching dead roots.

“And now you’re getting Hinata yakitori as a treat?” Sakura pushes, seeming incredibly amused.

“Well…” Naruto looks away bashfully, grinning ear to ear. “Yeah. Gotta repay her somehow. She has good ideas. I just follow her lead.” He looks back to them, then. “Did you tell teme about all our awesome plans?”

Sasuke’s focus falls to Sakura, who is flushed, biting her lip in a smile.

“I may have started to.”

“Well, good, because our yard is going to be totally the best, and if he thinks he’s getting out of it...” the dobe points at him accusingly, “Then I’ll kick his ass!”

Sasuke scoffs. “As if you could.”

Sakura shakes her head, pink locks fluttering with the motion. “Always with the physicalities... Anyways, I’m sure it will be lovely, when everything finally comes together.”

An uncommonly stretched pause passes where blue eyes zero in on the food container Sakura is holding, before they travel up to the two of them.

The grin shifts to something remarkably tender.

“...Yeah. I’m sure it will be.” He says it with the utmost confidence, like he is as certain about it as he is about the sun rising tomorrow, and Sasuke gets the sense that he is no longer referring to gardening.

The moment passes, and then Naruto is punching them each on the shoulder respectively and sidestepping away towards the yakitori stand. “Anyways, gotta go, so I’ll catch ya later! I’m guessing you have plans of your own.”

Sasuke blinks as their teammate disappears into the restaurant, ears burning a little. When his vision travels down to his right, Sakura is blushing a dark red. She meets his gaze, smiling sheepishly.

They turn to go to her building. The entire way there, Sasuke considers everything in the beginnings of a green that seems endless, nurtured by people from all walks of life. He has been noticing it this whole time, since his return, but now he's thinking about how dull it would be without it, whether it’s dirt roads or lifeless grey granite. This is not the wilds, where seeds sprout unabated. Here, one must put in the work to grow things, find suitable locations and till the soil.

When they reach Sakura’s apartment, his eye lingers on her plants as he follows her inside. She sets the takeout on the table by her window. A shadow of a leaf from the jasmine above them is cast hazily out of focus on her left cheek.

“Would you like any sauce with yours? I could make some teriyaki sauce quick, or I have lemons I’ll be cutting up anyway for mine.”

“...Lemon?” Citrus complements chicken, he knows, but he understands that to mean she’s planning on putting it on hers, over top of the yakitori sauce.

Her lips curve upwards. “I like it on other things, too. It’s good on yakitori.”

So Sakura slices a lemon and it sits on the center of the table between them as they eat. She drizzles her yakitori with three of them, and he takes the other three. The chicken is pretty good, tart with the citrus and seared alongside green onions. It’s still warm, as it wasn’t a long walk to her place at all, a convenient sort of sustenance.

“...What else do you like lemon on?”

She chews thoughtfully, swallowing before answering. “Hmm, a lot of things. Fish, even ones that are usually served with lime. Pork. I like it on vegetables, too. Salads, pasta, rice. Most desserts that include lemon I like, as well.” She pauses again, and adds, “Lemonade, if it’s homemade.”

No wonder they’re always in her fridge. “...And tea.”

His heart flips at the way she smiles at him.

“...And tea,” she agrees.

They watch the streets fill and empty from her window, finishing the meal in a companionable reticence, smelling faintly of citrus rind and shadowed by greenery from above.

He helps her prepare decaffeinated sencha after, trying not to stare at the freckle on her cheek. He’s pondering this morning further, the notions of impetus and yearning, and also the way she says his name, but this time uttered softly under a cherry blossom tree with an invitation into her office, if something hurts.

Sakura cares about him. A lot. Sasuke knows this, has known for years, but it’s the actions of her affection, the way she expresses it purely and simply as if it’s a true north cascading through her veins, that has inched its way into his bone marrow, engraved on the latibule he carved inwardly to avoid dry swallowing life’s more bitter medicines.

As she stirs sugar and honey into her own cup, she asks, “Care for a chess rematch?”

He doesn’t even have to think about it; he nods his assent. It’s time to test something.

They arrange the board together at her table. The first round, Sasuke cautiously plans every move, surveying alternating squares and attempting to predict what strategy Sakura will employ. In some instances, he mirrors her, moving a rook a turn after she does, shifting a pawn out of imminent danger, and so on. It’s a very involved way to play, requiring attentive calculation of each move.

It’s a prolonged match that he eventually loses with a final sweeping motion of her remaining bishop, but it’s fairly close.

“...Again?”

She grins and wordlessly starts setting up the pieces she has captured, so he begins to set up hers. It’s an interesting task, a message of opposites, her setting up his dark figures and him setting up her light ones.

The second round, he simply follows his instincts, negating planning ahead farther than a couple of turns. If he gets an impulse to shift a pawn one way, he does. If his gut tells him to move the knight into her territory or to retreat a rook, he goes with it.

It drags on for the better part of an hour, and ends in a stalemate.

The smile she gives him is breathtaking, a broad and warmhearted validation.

“You’re good,” she comments, jade eyes dancing with joy. He gets the impression that it is not often she gets forced into a draw. He wonders who else she plays with. It can't be Naruto, but maybe Sai or Ino also play.

“...So are you.” He is somewhat reassured now. His impulses used to be ruinous, stemming from anger and anxiety and loss, but perhaps his journey helped in that regard. He just needs to make sure they're rooted in the right things, whether it be logic or affection, and then the major task becomes to feel rather than to overthink.

When he kisses her good night in her entryway, another movie watched and plans for tomorrow later, he doesn’t reach for the freckle the first time, though his hand twitches with the longing to. It’s treasured, this tender pressing of lips that feels like dipping a toe into still water. It is imbued with both of her hands resting on his shoulders again, ten fingertips that have him in her grip more than she could possibly fathom.

He studies her eyes when he pulls away, staring down into soft depths of viridescence. He will drown in them someday, he thinks, slowly but surely working up the courage to wade into the deep end.

The second time he kisses her, he lets himself graze her cheek to truly appreciate the difference, allowing acknowledgment of the impulse, compelled forward rather than backward as if bound by some metaphorical form of northern star situated on the rise of her cheekbone.

Sakura leans into his touch once more as she did yesterday, but this time, she brings up her own hand and delicately lets her fingertips rest atop the outside of his, as if she encourages the caress, thumb brushing against his knuckle as his lips gently brush hers. Her other hand stays resting on his clavicle, a tender embrace, osculant in a way he has hoped for countless times, inclusive of this morning.

It is exactly what he needed, a catalyst of encouragement comprised of a heat that is gentle, coaxing, but still brands him all the same.

Maybe it's okay to want to skim her freckles and more, to allow the affinities he has to breathe. They’re together now; it stands to reason they'll one day venture into territory more uncharted, if he can concede to that kind of vulnerability. Not that he’s anywhere near ready for that - he’s not - but his instincts don’t appear to be all disastrously calamitous. Touching her cheek is something she clearly welcomes.

Sasuke gave in to darker tendencies once. Perhaps it's okay to give in to lighter ones; nothing grows in the absence of light, after all. He brushes a thumb across the high point of her cheekbone once more with her hand encompassing his before they part, embracing a new habit prior to whispering good night.

The way she smiles up at him, skin aflush and glimmering eyes, is everything.

XXX

He inspects the stone and the soil surrounding it for a long while, heavy-heartedly trying to ignore the encyclopedia of names in favor of envisioning what it would look like with lilies surrounding it. Less lugubrious, probably. The trajectory of the tree’s shadow would touch the stone in the evening, he sees, now that he’s here in person. He only ever haunts this place after nightfall when there's less chance of someone happening upon him. He wishes it was more secluded for that reason; maybe healing happens in the sunshine, and that’s why he still struggles with coming here after so many years, creature of the night that he is.

Evenings with Sakura feel like healing, though, and they linger after hours consistently. Maybe next time he’ll visit his dead kin at twilight, a brittle sort of compromise.

He'll see if the impulse still grips him tomorrow, and then decide. He knows his mother would like them. Itachi would, too, although it never feels like he's here, not the same way that it feels like the rest of them are, the air weighted with an accursed brand of perfume pouring outward in all directions.

White lilies may be able to touch the light in his stead for the time being. Even if they don’t grow, he at least will know he tried, and there is always next year. By then, he may have the capability of asking Sakura if she would help him; she’s clearly a capable gardener, and there should be less sediment, if he puts in the work.

By the time he leaves for his apartment, a thin layer has loosened.

#naruto #sasusaku #ssfanfiction #cherry writes #like gold #fanfiction #i said chapter 7 by the end of august and we cut it kind of close but we made it B)

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ellitx · 3 years

Note

helpppppp i read that scenario of reader sleeping over, and I couldn’t help but imagine that they all share the same room when that is. Also what do you think the twins would do to get readers attention over the other?

Im gonna set this back when you’re in the middle school or something.

masterlist

fluff

word count: 1.6k

You and the twins are already comfortable with laying on each other’s bed whenever you/they visit. Your mother, Amos, even brings snacks to your room for them to eat and she always gets excited whenever they come to your house.

She’s even the one who insisted if you wanna invite them for a sleepover! Your father, Decarabian, always disapproves whenever you ask him if you can sleep at the twin’s house. (Also because uncle Andrius is there and he doesn't want you to get close to him)

Himmel and Venti were having friendly bickering and thinking over what gift they should give to your mother as thanks for welcoming them in. Amos accepts anything! She really appreciates they’ve put an effort to do it but later on, feels guilty and that they didn’t have to do it.

Speaking of gifts, your birthday is almost coming. Himmel and Venti thought at the same time. And while Aunt Amos is here...

You already know that they also have the same idea to ask your mother what you would like to have as a gift but have different methods to approach her.

It was Himmel who first asked aunt Amos about it. Well... not really her but someone else. It was after dinner and he decided to help her out and the maids in cleaning the dishes. He was really nervous and shy to ask her. Is it really alright if he questions aunt Amos what are your favorites? Will she get disappointed that he doesn’t know what your likes and dislikes are for the entire years he grew up with you?

Himmel sighed and continues to wipe the dishes with a dry cloth and puts them inside their respective racks.

“Master Himmel is everything alright?” A maid suddenly asked in concern, surprising him.

“We can handle everything here. If you’re getting tired, we’ve already prepared and tidied the room as what the Young Mistress has ordered.” She continued. The boy blinked before shaking his head and giving a soft smile to her way.

“Oh please don’t worry about me! I’m just thinking about something.” His attention was back on the ceramic plate and he carefully does dry it.

“Is it perhaps the Young Mistress’s birthday is coming soon?”

Himmel almost dropped the plate if it were not for him to quickly regain his balance and tightly hold on to it for dear life. He looked at the maid in utter shock, his face was scribbled with bafflement and embarrassment as he owlishly blinked at her.

Was he really that obvious the maid managed to point out his current problems right on spot? Well, It’s better to talk to her about this right? She knows you more than him after all.

Himmel nodded and set his gaze on the plate, mirroring his appearance.

“What do you think [Name] would like to receive as a gift?” He muttered under his breath as heat began to crawl up to his face up to the tip of his ears.

“Young Mistress’s favorite?” The maid echoed. She then placed her gloved hands to her chin, deep in thought.

“I’m sure she’d love anything as long as it’s from you. It’s the thought that counts, is it not?” She said before turning off the faucet to avoid wasting water.

Himmel was quiet for a minute.

Anything, huh?

—

Venti would directly ask Aunt Amos what gift you would like when she was preparing night snacks for the three of you. The younger twin snuck out of the room and left you and Himmel alone to play some video games.

As much as he’d hate not being included there and missing out on the fun, the most important matter right now is the gift you’ll get for your day of birth!

“Aunt Amos! Aunt Amos!” Venti cried and slammed the door open to where the kitchen is. The said woman shrieked at the sudden intrusion and looked over her shoulder to see the culprit behind her almost heart attack.

“Venti... goodness you gave me a fright there.” Amos chuckled and continued to prep up an iced tea.

“Aunt Amos, I wanna ask you something!” He said and leaned over the counter to take a peek at what she’s doing.

She stopped whatever she’s doing and wiped her hands with her apron before setting her focus on the short male.

“What is it?”

Venti walked back and cleared his throat behind his fist as if he were going to make a speech.

“A man is sitting in a pub feeling rather poor. He sees the gentleman next to him pull a bag of 100 Mora out of his pocket.

He turns to the rich man and says to him,

'I have an amazing talent; I know almost every song that has ever existed.'

The rich man laughs.

The poor man says, 'I am willing to bet you all the money you have in your wallet that I can sing a genuine song with a lady's name of your choice in it.'

The rich man laughs again and says, 'OK, how about my daughter's name, [Name]?'

The rich man goes home poor. The poor man goes home rich.

What song did he sing?”

Venti ended his riddle with a smile at the woman. Amos seemed to be contemplating his question very well and it’s not often she gets to participate in his brain-teasers. So this is very much a surprise for her.

Well, enough about that, she has to answer this quickly and she doesn’t want to make him wait for her longer. Going back to his riddle, was the rich man supposed to be her husband? Venti did mention your name when the poor man asked the rich man.

A song that has your name...

“Is it Happy Birthday?” She answered.

“Bing bong!” Venti’s fingers were formed to an okay sign and gave her a big grin.

“Knowing the answer is Happy Birthday, I suppose you’re also going to ask me about [Name]’s gift, am I correct?”

Venti let out a hearty laugh and winked at her. “Correct once again, Miss Amos!”

“Sooo...” He held on to the chair’s backrest and gave her the best puppy eyes he could muster to get another answer from her.

“Please please please please tell me what [Name] would like— no, LOVE to get on her birthday!!” He begged and clasped his hands together as if he was praying to a god.

“Now, now, isn’t that cheating? Your brother never asked me about this so isn’t it fair for you if you guess as well?” She remarked as she arranged the brownies on the plates.

“Wait— Himmel didn’t ask you?!”

Oh, how foolish he was to think the older twin actually asked your mother. Was he thinking too much when Himmel helped her out in cleaning the table? Perhaps yes, perhaps not. Or maybe Aunt Amos is hiding something that even she cannot tell the hidden secret to him?

“Well, I suppose I can give you a hint on what it is.” Amos motioned for him to come closer in which Venti quickly obeyed. Venti took note of all the words left from her lips in his head and is beginning to plan out events on the next days before your birthday.

His smile was brighter than the sun in this nightly hour and his eyes sparkled in excitement and joy. Even though her hint lacks information and clues he could deduct, he at least speculated it must be that item!

“Thank you, Miss Amos! That’s already a good hint for me! Now if you excuse me, I suppose we can eat this already...?” He sheepishly asked as he looked on the tray placed with a pile of brownies on a plate, a pitcher of iced tea, and three tall fragile glasses.

“I was about to ask you if you can bring it to the room. Be careful not to trip on your way!” The young male bobbed his head and picked up the tray with his two hands.

“Will do! And thank you for the snacks again!” And then off he goes, his slippers slapping against the tiled floor to make his way back to the shared room.

Amos watched his form disappear before her eyes flicked to the doorframe. A small smile appeared on her lips and crossed her arms over her chest.

“You can come out now, dear.” She said. A good minute of silence was only present in the kitchen before a tall man stepped out of the darkness, sighing heavily as he threw her a look of disappointment.

“Did that little rascal really have to use me in his riddles?” He groaned before taking a look over the leftover pieces of brownies.

“What? It’s kind of amusing and smart to do it. I’ll give him kudos for that.” Amos opened her lips and popped in small bits of the dessert in her mouth to take a taste of it.

“Hmph,” Decarabian huffed as he poured a drink to the glass.

“And let me guess that Himmel also asked you about [Name]’s birthday?” He almost spat out his drink when his wife mentioned the name of your friend. It would be a waste if he did that and he doesn’t like to cause a mess in this area already.

“I told you he’s a good kid. You just have to get rid of that frown of yours and your authoritative aura. Himmel’s always doing his best and now he even had the courage to approach and ask you.”

Decarabian could only stand still and remain silent as he sipped his drink.

—

ive written a shared room scenario before and this is set on college au. Do take note this has nsfw content in it

#anon ask #ellianswers #venti x reader #himmel x reader #genshin impact x reader #elliwrites #venti fluff

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dsmp-agere-stuff · 3 years

Note

Hello Jade ! it’s 🍒 again but could you write little!ranboo with cgs!tubbo and tommy? for plot maybe ranboo has been stressed with syndicate meetings, but when he wakes up regressed he’s confused because he’s never done it before. he becomes overwhelmed and scared so he gets tubbo. tubbo understands but has never been a cg so he calls tommy (tommy has been a cg to wilbur before) so tommy comes over, him and tubbo take care of ranboo. maybe they play hide and seek / tubbo carrying ranboo thanks!

Sorry this took me a while to get to!! It came out a lot more angsty than usual, so- beware of that.

Tw: described panic attack that ends after ——, Shame about regression, believing you aren’t deserving to regress

Ranboo rolled over in his bed and stuffed his face into the pillow, shaking his head some to burrow it in more. He pulled his blanket closer and hummed into whatever was in his arms. He whined when a piston went off somewhere and burrowed his face into the thing he was holding, which was a grass plush. He looked up once the sound was over and carefully got up, trying to find something to eat, but wobbled too much to get all the way to the fridge. He just sat down on the floor and whined to himself, going to bite his nails. He looked around for something to get, too tired, he thought, to really think. Which meant he couldn’t do anything, which sucked. He knew he had stuff to do today! He had meetings!! He had to tell Techno that Quackity was being mean!! He wasn’t supposed to be tired now!

Ranboo rubbed at his face with his sleeves to try and get the water off his face, staying on the ground as he got a message from his little communicator.

Tubbo. Tubbo was supposed to- Tubbo-

Ranboo’s Brain was far too foggy to read and he was absolutely not telling Tubbo about this of all things. So, he just slid it to the side and went from chewing on his nails to sucking on his thumb, trying to calm himself down about the meeting by reasoning with himself, which was usually the opposite of what actually happened, like this time, where he just catastrophized himself into a corner.

His communicator was an awful background noise to the whole thing as he finally got the energy to get up and start pacing around, still wobbly but needing to move in some way. He almost tripped so many times but he managed.

——

Someone knocked on the door and opened it anyway, “Why’re you ignoring me!” Tubbo joked as he knocked on the ladder downstairs, expecting Ranboo to be busy.

Ranboo let out a little whimper, shaking his head out of guilt, not getting that Tubbo was joking.

Tubbo heard the noise and ran upstairs with a laugh until he saw Ranboo and paused, “yo. You okay boss man?”

Ranboo shook his head and messed with his clothes, still pacing.

“Hey, hey.” Tubbo walked closer to him, “what’s wrong? What do you need?”

Ranboo shook his head again and rubbed at his face with his sleeves.

“Tissues?” Tubbo guessed.

“Nooo!” Ranboo Drew out in almost another whine, then looked down in what seemed like shame, still walking.

Tubbo rolled his eyes, “work with me dude.”

Ranboo made a softer version of aggressive noises he could make, still tearing up.

Tubbo sighed, “I’m calling Tommy, okay? Let’s get you to sit down, okay?”

Ranboo shook his head more.

Tubbo glanced at the block on Ranboo’s bed, “just mess with your blocks, man. I have to talk to Tommy.” Tubbo sent Tommy a message about it.

Ranboo begrudgingly went and grabbed the block, stuffing his face in it again. He continued to pace, holding the plush as tight as he could. He couldn’t remember where he got the plush from but he didn’t care, it was making him think a bit less and that helped.

Tubbo came out from the corner of the room and went over to Ranboo, “Hey, Ranboo, are you little?” He asked softly, trying to not be too alarming in case Tommy was right.

Ranboo just looked confused and shook his head, not even looking Tubbo’s way. Tubbo huffed and continued to text Tommy, “Tommy’s gonna come over to check on you, okay? He knows mental health stuff better than most of us, sadly.” Tubbo shrugged and went to the corner again

Tubbo looked around the room while Ranboo started to rock himself in place, singing to himself in light little noises.

Tommy eventually ran in and was clearly holding in his usual yells, “alright, what is this then?” He exaggerated his accent to try to cheer Ranboo up, maybe.

Tubbo sighed, “Ranboo’s being a downer- more than usual.”

Tommy watched Ranboo for a moment, then went over and tilted his head, “you scared, big man?”

Ranboo immediately shook his head and bit onto the plush, looking away from Tommy.

Tommy took a step back, “hey, hey, it’s fine.” Tommy turned to Tubbo, “he is *so* little. Tubbo, he’s literally babbling.”

Tubbo shrugged, “hey, I don’t know what it is.”

“It’s your husband!”

Tubbo sighed, “yeah, but you kinda need to tell me what to do ta- ya know- deal with it??”

Tommy rolled his eyes and shrugged, “I mean you have a kid right?”

Ranboo finally let out a little vwoop, glaring at the two’s heads.

“Sorry.” Tubbo mumbled.

“Just treat him like any other kid.” Tommy suggested.

Tubbo nodded confusedly and walked over to Ranboo, not looking up at Ranboo, “hey, big man, let’s sit on the ground, okay?”

Ranboo glanced down then carefully sat down, pulling his legs close to himself.

Tubbo smiled and laid on the ground, “you have no clue what being little is, huh?”

Ranboo shook his head.

“Well, neither do I. Tommy!” Tubbo got up and gestured for Tommy to sit down.

Tommy gave Tubbo a face then sat down in front of Ranboo. “Fine, fine.”

Tubbo smiled, “I’ll go get us food.”

Tommy and Ranboo just sat near each other for a bit, until Tommy spoke up, “sooo- regression.”

Ranboo mumbled something against the plush.

Tommy sighed and set his bag to the side and started unpacking it, “what’s a good way to phrase this... okay, okay, so you know how like, we all cope with the ssstuff that happened on the smp. The usually coping method is you know making a new country. Wonder what that says about Karl... anyway! A probably like- better one is what you’re doing, which is called, you guessed it, age regression!”

Ranboo was too tired to guess anything, trying to find a comfy spot to sit, but the floor was stone so that wasn’t happening.

“It’s like- you feel like a kid and you act like one? And it helps?” Tommy scrunched up his face, then shrugged, “Wilbur did it before... you know and like. It did calm him down some. He was really fun too, like how a puppy is fun for like the first 10 minutes, but drag it out for- I don’t know? An hour? Who cares, you get what I’m saying.”

Ranboo has absolutely no clue what Tommy was saying and just nodded, scooting closer for comfort.

Tommy rolled his eyes in mock annoyance and got close enough for Ranboo to lean on him, which he did. Tubbo came up with a bunch of crackers and things to go with it, “yooo?”

Tommy shrugged with his free shoulder and held out his hands for the food.

Tubbo set the plate in front of the two.

Tommy looked over at Ranboo, “we should get you regression things.”

Ranboo shook his head, “no nee’.”

Tommy rolled his eyes, “do.”

“No”

“You do.”

“M-m.”

“Ranboooo, come on, big man. You can’t tear your plushies to shreds.”

Ranboo pulled his mouth far away from where he was biting it, pouting and whining.

Tommy snorted, “you know I’m right.”

Ranboo shook his head, “won’ b’ b’b.”

“Huh.” Tubbo asked mid bite.

“You’re almost definitely going to be a baby again. We should be prepared for that, at least a little bit, you know?”

Ranboo stuffed his face in the plush again, “nooooo-“

Tommy huffed, “why not?”

“Go’a ‘tay biiig!” Ranboo bounced on of his legs.

Tommy shrugged, “you really don’t have to. Tubbo and I and like- your other friends can help watch you whenever.”

“Listen, if it helps you, poggers man.”

Ranboo made a loud screech and threw his plush to the wall, then ran over to his bed, getting on it and hiding under the blanket.

Tommy and Tubbo both stopped mid everything and watched Ranboo, confused as to why he was suddenly so agressive.

Tubbo took the grass plush and set it next to Ranboo on the bed. Ranboo got out of the blanket to take it and put the blanket back over. Tubbo sat in that spot and gently laughed as Ranboo immediately hugged him around the stomach. Tommy sighed and went over to the other side of Ranboo’s bed, “we’ll talk about it when you’re big. For now... how old you feel, big man?”

Ranboo shrugged and hugged Tommy’s arm, trying to hug both and the plush. Tommy messed up Ranboo’s hair, “you seem like a tiny little toddler.”

Tubbo smiled and rubbed Ranboo’s ring, “sooo, just about carrying age?”

Ranboo very audibly gasped and held his arms out.

Tubbo snorted, picking Ranboo up carefully, “there we go.”

Ranboo was immediately almost bouncing out of Tubbo’s grip out of joy. He babbled and vwooped out something neither one of them knew, but both cooed at the cute noise.

Ranboo kept babbling, pointing at things and telling them about whatever he felt like, trying to gesture to further elaborate, but at some point Tommy gave him a rattle (made from a little jar, beads, and a stick) and Ranboo gave up trying to make sense in favor of making as much noise as he could. Tubbo tried to respond as well as possible. Ranboo just enjoyed them both listening, almost talking himself back to sleep.

Tommy helped get Ranboo back in bed, “now I’m gonna get you more little toys, got it?”

Ranboo let out a good whine before shoving his face back into the grass plush.

Tubbo sighed and pet Ranboo, “you cool with me staying here?”

Ranboo nodded and gestured to Tommy with his shoulder, still nodding.

Tubbo took a breath, “we’ll be downstairs if you need anything. I’ll send Enderchest up.”

Ranboo let out a happy vwoop before genuinely trying to sleep.

“Night big man.” Tommy mumbled.

Tubbo pet Ranboo more, “Night, Ranboo. Love you.”

#agere tubbo #agere ranboo #agere tommyinnit #agere mcyt #little!ranboo #cg!tubbo #cg!tommyinnit #agere dsmp #jade writes

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