Characters/Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader, Sam (mentioned)
Word Count: 2030
Warnings: Some kissing, implied future smut.
Summary: It’s the final part in the series, I don’t want to spoil anything!
Author’s Note: Wow, the final part! I can’t thank you guys enough for all the sweet things you’ve said about this series, I had a great time writing it, and I hope the final part is everything you were hoping it would be! And I’m sorry if the ending feels a little rushed, I was pressed for time this weekend. Enjoy, guys :)
If you would like to read any of my other fics please check out myMasterlist!
*Gif is not mine, all gifs used on my blog are from Google Images.*
After eating another pathetic excuse for dinner with the boys and deciding where you were headed next - deeming it a pointless trip to have come so far and only do one hunt in the area - you gathered your things, the second motel key off the table, and limped out of the room to go find your own. Which was, as it turns out, even smaller and more frigid than the last one.
The cold air hit you like a brick as you stumbled out of the motel room, using the wall for support and dragging your duffle bag behind you through the freshly fallen snow. Dean had, of course, tried to help you with your bag and get you safely to your new room, but you’d turned down his offer and opted to do it yourself, your newly stitched leg screaming in protest with every clumsy step. When you got to your lonely little room you collapsed on the bed with a groan.
Ever since you had started hunting with the boys you’d always gotten your own room, every time without fail, and it never fazed you in the least. You enjoyed the quiet, gratefully took the seldom found privacy, and couldn’t imagine a worse fate than having to share an already cramped and more often than not dirty motel bathroom with two men. You were happy with the arrangement – or, as happy as a hunter could be when bouncing around from one dive to the next. But now? You just felt lonely.
The room was too quiet. You found, to your surprise, that you didn’t mind giving up some of that privacy if you were giving it in favor of being near Dean. Even sharing the amenities was something easily avoidable if you managed to wake up before the Winchesters. You liked sharing a room with them – you liked sharing a room with Dean.
You weren’t purposefully ignoring his attempts at
communication but work had that annoying habit of getting in the way. The
entire household had been rushed off their feet cleaning and preparing the
house for Yuri’s mother, who was coming back from a business holiday in a
week’s time. Even though she wasn’t due back straight away, the house had been
a flurry of activity that just left you completely exhausted. Every night,
you’d finish late and head home, looking at the missed calls and collapsing
asleep before you could call him back.
Fandom: Marvel Pairing: Logan Howlett x (teacher)reader Genres: possible secondhand embarrassment, a bit of jealousy, fluff Words: 1.615 Summary: Drunk, you confess your feelings for Logan, despite being sure he wants only Jean. However, Logan has a surprising admission to make - requested by Anonymous
Notes:This turned out sadder than I expected, tbh. But enjoy, I guess?
Edit: Moodboard below submitted by @saf0607 (isn’t it pretty??)
“Men often make up in wrath what they want in reason.”
-William R. Alger
yourself to where you know Jaebum’s placed, in a level below the others. You
bite your lips as you trudge your way down the staircases, encased by nothing
apart from the fluttering light from the torches lining the wall; you often
wonder why Lucifer can’t just invest something more modern, but you remember
that he’d prefer the creepy vibes he’d achieve with them.
really want to face Jaebum. Not knowing how much he must be beating himself up
for their failure, like he does every other time. By some sort of luck, he’d
managed to find himself in a position of responsibility after his creation,
hence why he’s now the little leader of the Sins and, as a result…
trying to will your eyes to stop stinging. You hate how much he blames himself,
but as the Sin of Wrath, he can hardly help but show his frustrations out—it’s
a miniature hell of his own, for himself, made by himself.
“mysweetbloodyrevenge: Can you do Frank smut where he’s Y/N’s new neighbour and she finds him really attractive, but he’s like really confident and stuff and she’s shy and later on he kinda bullies her at school and makes her angry to get her attention?”
Confession time… I did send in the request for this imagine :P it was the first one I sent to @we-write-imagines and I was a lil’ nervous… oh, and it kinda relates to a Teen Wolf fic I’m working on as well, but is not actually connected to it :):)
If anyone wants to be tagged, please send in an ask as it’s easier to organise that way, thanks :):)
Being attracted to a murderer wasn’t the best thing you could do. Going behind your friends’ and family’s backs to be with the guy was probably the worst thing you could do. But how could you resist someone like Peter? Still, you tried to stay away from him, but it never seemed to matter. You could run, but you couldn’t hide… not that you wanted to.
knew how dangerous Peter was. You knew exactly what he was capable of. But none
of that seemed to matter. Even though he’d killed people, and turned your
brother into a werewolf, you couldn’t control the attraction you felt towards
didn’t help that you knew he was just attracted to you -if not more.
around wasn’t easy when the people who care about you have supernatural senses.
The first time you’d gone off to meet up with Peter you’d nearly been busted
the second you got home. Scott had cornered and questioned you about why you smelt
You smelt like
Peter… and that turned you on.
course, being turned on can also be sensed, so you had to try and control
yourself while also trying to lie your way out of the situation, even though
Scott’s super hearing allows him to hear whether you’re lying or not.
you still managed to fool him… surprisingly.
that you made sure to be as careful as possible.
Peter was making it harder to stay under the radar. He found it amusing that
you didn’t want people to know, so he did things that were small but if noticed
it would lead to a lot of questions.
Synopsis: You and Wonwoo work at a fro-yo shop and together.
“Wonwoo, we’re out of chocolate chips, can you go to the back and a grab some more?”
Wonwoo simply nodded and saluted you before he went into the storage room. You and Wonwoo had been working together at Franks’s Fro-Yo for almost a year now. For most of the day, the shop was pretty empty since most people in town preferred the frozen dairy confectionery at night. Of course, once the sun started to set, the place would swarm with people trying to get a cup. Luckily, you and Wownoo usually worked the morning shift and always had plenty of time to yourselves.
He barely slept last night after what happened with the slave, too eaten up by guilt to find any respite within dreams. She had felt so good in his arms, her cleaned skin soft against his and that damn scent wrapping itself around him like a warm fur. It was wrong. She was nothing, a Saxon whore who was worth about as much as a fattened pig. His sweet Margrethe would hate him if she knew the thoughts that plagued him. And that makes him hate himself.
Ivar has called all his important men to dine with him this morning, to discuss the success of the raid. He had also asked for all the slaves to be brought as well, so he can choose which ones he wants for his personal household. He pointedly avoids looking at where they are huddled in the middle of the hall, like lambs ready for slaughter. He cannot look at her, not after the thoughts that filled his head last night.
His brother sits on their father’s throne, lazily picking at some food while his ever sharp eyes peruse the room. Ubbe has to admit; Ivar has been a good king these last few years. Kattegat has prospered under his rule, although he is not sure how much he should attribute that to Ivar’s level headed Queen. How his hot headed brother ever managed to capture the heart of someone like Ljota is beyond him.
The woman in question is seated on his left, new babe nursing contentedly at her breast. Ubbe chooses to look at his niece for a while; it is better than looking at who sits on the other side of Ivar, in the chair of highest command. His fist clenches involuntarily. It should be him, seated next to the king, leading the armies when Ivar chooses not to. It should be him, and not Hvitserk.
But Ivar does not forgive easily, if ever. And Hvitserk did not fall prey to Lagertha’s schemes. Hvitserk did not fail his family.
Ivar clears his throat, interrupting Ubbe’s morose thoughts, and the room falls to silence.
“Men, the gods have indeed blessed us this spring. Another successful raid against the Saxons, slaves and riches and livestock beyond what we could have hoped. And,” he pauses, reaching out to run a hand reverently over the nursing babe beside him, “they have also seen it fit to give me a daughter and heir.” At this there is loud cheering and pounding of cups on tables. Ivar holds up his hands, and there is silence once more.
“Each man will get his pick of the plunder, both treasures and slaves alike. As your King, I will take for my household first. I know I did not raid with you, for I did not wish to miss my child’s birth. Since that is a gift far above what we have taken from the Christians, I will only take a few slaves for myself. The rest is yours.”
More cheers fill the air. Ubbe chances a glance over to the mass of scared women. She is right in the middle of them, clearly terrified but standing tall. Her gaze suddenly swivels to him, as if she can sense his eyes upon her. The flinch that wracks her body is so obvious he can practically feel it himself. Her wide doe eyes are locked on his, pink lips parted slightly. Her cheeks are flushed, her dark hair coming undone from the hasty braid trailing down over her ample chest. The words pretty, pretty, pretty echo furiously in his mind, and the hatred he feels in that moment for her is utterly overwhelming. He wants to stride over there and rip her apart with his bare hands. How dare she make him think such thoughts?
Ivar has left his throne now, his crutches scraping over the floor as he makes his way towards the slaves. He surveys the whimpering woman briefly, and Ubbe cannot help but notice that his eyes linger on her.
Something odd bubbles in his chest; he does not like the idea of his brother owning her. Mine, his inner wolf growls savagely. He desperately tries to push the wolf down, to tamper these strange feelings of possessiveness. He watches Ivar reach out to touch her as she recoils, and the wolf within gives a wild, warning howl. He is up and moving before he even realizes it.
“That one is mine,” the words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them. “I stole her. Pick another.”
Ivar looks shocked for a moment, before storm clouds brew in his icy eyes. “And who are you to make such claims, brother? Are you saying you, Ubbe the Traitor, should have pick ahead of your King?”
The title makes his heart twist painfully, but he stands his ground. “I do not ask for much, Ivar. I accept my status in your eyes, I do as you ask without complaint. Give me this.”
Ivar’s answering grin is mocking, cruel. “You do not ask for much because you know you deserve even less. You know what you have done. Why then should I allow you to even have a slave at all? You do not want this bitch for any reason other than that I do."
"Ivar, I am asking as-”
“Asking as what? A brother? You are barely my brother anymore. Only birthblood ties us. You are making an even bigger fool out of yourself, Ubbe. Who is this slave to you, other than a chance to make a Saxon pig squeal?”
He should concede. He should step back and let Ivar take her. His brother is right. What is she to him? Sure, he may have enjoyed her warmth last night. He may even find her bland Saxon features mildly pleasing. But she is property, she is lower than dirt, she is less than even he is. She is not worth another fight.
But the wolf does not want to leave the lamb to be crushed by the serpent.
“If she is nothing more than a pig, then she is fitting for me, is she not?” He grabs her by the arm; she shrieks in terror and tries to pry him off. He holds on tighter. “Let the filth have the filth.”
Ivar opens his mouth to reply, his hand straying to the axe strapped to his belt. But before he can do or say anything, the clear voice of Ljota cuts him off.
“I wish to have the smallest girls for our house, husband mine,” she says, and there is iron in her voice. “Their fingers are nimble for needlework, and our daughter should have the finest clothes. Let Ubbe have the fat sow. She is of no use to me.”
His heart gives a strange flutter of dread and relief. Ivar may be king of Kattegat, but Ljota is Queen of Ivar. A curt nod, an icy glare, the slave cries quietly beside him. Ivar will not forget this.
Inspired by @pearlidab (If anyone is interested in proofreading this message me please)
*Warning of sexual and mature content*
*Beware of memes*
“I like you Dazai, please go out with me.” The words echoed in Dazai’s ears. He swore he heard wrong for a second but he couldn’t deny that he did with his subordinate standing in front of him looking like his face was going to erupt at any second like an active volcano.
He wanted to just save Atsushi the heartbreak and just reject him right there. He wouldn’t be the first to confess and he probably won’t be the last. Whether he rejects or accepts it depends on his mood but one thing that never changes is that they never stay. No one really stays. He can’t meet their expectations, male or female. “I’ll be in your care,” He should feel guilty from the amount of hope and happiness on Atsushi’s face that brings tears to the boy’s eyes. If only he knew that he was doing this so, he would learn how bad of an idea it was. He’ll fall out of love. He’ll let go.
genre: fluff. soulmates that feel each other’s pain au.
‘I just banged my knee on that table over there and you hissed in pain, dude I think we’re soulmates’
word count: 2.7K
Taehyung scoots forward, chair scraping shrilly against the floor to take a closer look at the purpling bruise on your forehead you woke up with this morning. You don’t remember bumping into anything, but you’re greeted with the large discoloured blotch just above your eyebrow the first thing you look into the mirror after washing up, much to your confusion. The chestnut-haired boy’s eyes grow rounder, more curious as they take in the bruise, a hand coming up to hover in front of your face and—
okay do you think you could do one with Alex Summers + "dont look at me like that" "why" "cause it makes me want to kiss you" where they kinda hate each other??? pls (psa: i adore your writing 💞)
i screamed while writing this tbh (thank you cutie!)
alex + “don’t look at me like that” “why” “because it makes me want to kiss you”
Needless to say, becoming lab partners with one of the schools ‘bad boys’ has ruined your life. Alex Summers has managed to find each of your nerves, and has gotten on every single damn one. From letting you do all of the work on projects to calling you ‘princess’ when you’ve annoyed him, it somehow formed into a love-hate friendship. And not to mention, the tiny voice in your brain nearly screams at you everyday to just admit to yourself, that you do in fact have a crush on him.
It’s the end of the year and Angel (a girl in your chemistry, who happens to be friends with Alex) invited you to a get together to celebrate, at the beach. It’s nearing the middle of the night and the only reason you’re really there is to hang out with a couple other friends and to maybe harass Alex a little bit — but after a couple hours pass and he doesn’t show up, you push the slight disappointment out of you; and decide to get a little tipsy. Why not? After all, if you make a fool out of yourself, at least he won’t be there to antagonize you… right?
Soon you’re easily giggling at whatever stupid jokes Sean tells, and your body feels so much warmer and lighter. It isn’t much longer before Sean and Angel and pretty much everyone is completely hammered — even Darwin! You’re not sure who suggests that everyone strips down to their undies to go jump in the water, but you stand your ground when Darwin tugs you up. (No thank you, I’m perfectly fine with the s’mores!)
So you plop yourself down on a blanket with a bag of marshmallows, plopping one in your mouth. But before you can properly chew the marshmallow, a tap on your shoulder startles you so bad that you flinch, turning on your butt; ready to swing — only to find Alex laughing heartily, clutching his chest as you kick sand at him.
“Alex, you dick!” You exclaim, after you nearly choked to death.
“Didn’t expect you to actually be here, princess.” He laughs, plopping down next to you. Alex’s brows furrow together as he scrunches his nose up, obviously smelling the booze on you. “Wait, are you actually drinking?” He adds, with a small smirk.
Rolling your eyes, you throw another marshmallow in your mouth, before answering him.
“And why is that a shock to you?”
“Because,” he huffs out with a laugh, as it were obvious. “you’re a good girl. Good girls don’t do that kind of stuff.”
At that statement, you shove him by his shoulder, causing half of his body to get covered in sand. And all the asshole does is actually laugh, brushing off the sand as you pull your knees to your chest in annoyance.
“I’m not a good girl.” you whine petulantly, as Alex catches his breath; standing to his feet.
“C’mon princess,” he says, holding out his hand. “if you’re such a bad girl, let’s go join in on the fun.” He gestures towards the group in the water, and you nearly kick him in the groin — because how are you supposed to handle yourself half naked around him?!
But you’re determined, so that’s how you end up stripping down to your underwear and bra — dashing into the ocean as Alex struggles to kick off his jeans. You go deep enough to where the water is covers your bottom half, and you can feel the chill to your bones. You face Alex, who is now running in after you, and yell,
“See, Summers? I’m not a good girl!”
Even though it’s dark, you can totally see the smirk on his face as he dives under the water. You throw your head back in a laugh, before you feel two strong arms wrap around your calves and knees — sending you tumbling under the water. You squeal as you fight your way back to the top, grabbing one of Alex’s biceps and wrap the other around his shoulder. When you surface, Alex has his arm wrapped around your waist; holding you tight against his own body, so close that you can feel the heat in his chest warm up yours.
There’s a couple moments of silence as you realize the intimate nature of your position, so close to each other that you notice the small moles under his jaw; or how his eyes are a beautiful color of blue — and most definitely, the clenching of his jaw, which seems to be clenching and unclenching at the feel of your wet skin against his.
You take your lower lip between your teeth and drop your gaze to his lips, before looking back at him up in the eyes; eyelashes fluttering. You can feel his bicep tense under your touch as you dig your blunt nails into the skin there, causing him to release a breath of air through his flared nostrils.
“Don’t look at me like that, princess.” He mumbles, leaning his forehead against yours.
You hesitate to even ask — but the way he swipes his tongue over his lips is enough for you to a deep feeling to awaken in your stomach.
“Why?” You finally ask, voice low.
“Because….” he starts, as if he was struggling to find the right words. “Because it makes me want to kiss you.”
Your heart pretty much fucking falters at his confession — because never in a million years did you think, that big bad Alex Summers would ever say something like that.
There’s a second where you have to decide between drowning yourself out of embarrassment, or kiss him — and for once, you decide to do what your gut and heart tell you to do. So you kiss him.
You pull him down to your lips and you kiss him — you kiss him like you’re the last people on earth, touch starved and insatiable for each others touch. His lips feel like fire against your as he cups your cheek and slides his tongue against yours, eliciting a small sigh of contentment from you. You’re not sure how long you kiss each other for, but when his lips leave yours to suck a mark beneath your jaw, you curl your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him off to look at him in the eyes.
“Not such a good girl after all, huh, Summers?”
All he does is look at you like you’re the center of his world, lips curling into a smirk, as he presses a kiss to your lips; pulling off to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, before he says,
I’m incrediblyterrified excited to announce that I’m writing a fic!!!
It’s no secret that I have an overwhelming amount of feels for Tsukki. I have spent a shameful amount of time analyzing his character, speculating his motivations, and developing countless head canons. A couple weeks back one of my dear friends on here made a suggestion that I try writing. At the time I totally brushed her off like that was the craziest thing in the world..and here we are now, hah.
This fic will follow Kei’s development from the moment Karasuno lost to Seijoh in Season 1 all the way through the end of Season 3. My goal is to give you all an inside look at what (I think) Kei possibly went through all that time. Actual canon events and conversations will be used (and tweaked, at times) along with many new situations that I think may have happened behind the scenes while the focus was more on Hinata/Kageyama. (And let’s be honest, I really just needed an excuse to write third gym antics)
Chapter 1 will be posted this Friday, but to thank you all for taking the time to read all of this rambling, there is a preview here under the cut! =^^=
Genre: Fluff, attempts at comedy and mentions of smut if ya wanna.
Word Count: 880.
Your lips were parted and your eyebrows were furrowed as his hot, heavy breaths hit the shell of your ear. His hands were firmly placed on your hips, fingers digging with just the right amount of pressure to keep you in place as you arched your neck upwards, exposing your throat to the cold air of the practice room. Your knees curled when you felt you back being pressed flush against his chest and held out your arms, gaze fixed on the mirror wall to observe the position of your bodies.
“No, this is not it. We need to do it again,” you shook your head and straightened your body back to normal, hearing Jongin huff quietly as he put you back down.
“What’s the matter, Y/N? I swear we’ve done this bit two hundred times already,” he whined as he followed you to look at the screen of your phone, which you insisted you two used to record the practice and fix up any mistakes. Kai had thought it was a good idea at first, but now, as he saw you pause on what he thought was a perfectly executed transition and point at your own feet, he was starting to regret his agreement.
“I’m supposed to be en pointe before you pick me up but I keep forgetting, see?” You looked at him and nodded towards the screen with an expression that screamed ‘I don’t know why you don’t see it’, to which he just rolled his eyes and turned around to stride towards his water bottle.
“I think that’s as en pointe as it gets. You have a bone structure, you know?” He teased you with a small smile, you were always too hard on yourself so he tried to get you to relax as much as he could. Sometimes, his attempts even included making a fool out of himself, that evening was the case. “Okay, miss I-want-to-be-an-actual-doll,” you huffed and his smile grew as he started moonwalking towards the centre of the practice room. “Let’s do it again from the top, and make sure to re-”
You turned around from still stressing over the recording when you heard a loud thud, followed by an enthusiastic string of ‘fuck’s as Kai rubbed the back of his head which had instants ago bounced against the floor. “You okay? How even do you trip on a tile flo- oh…” He showed you his sole with a small chuckle and you couldn’t help but start laughing once you knew he was okay. “That’s what you get for rehearsing with old stage shoes, you dumbass.”
He shrugged and sat down on the floor to take off his boots. “They’re making me dance in these at the concert anyway, gotta get used,” he chose for lame defense before throwing the pair inside his bag. “I guess we’re done rehearsing anyway, I can’t dance in socks.” He gulped the last bit remaining of his water and walked over to you, ready to leave.
You were gathering up your things as well when you nodded, agreeing with him before something crossed your head. “I’m hoping you don’t think you can walk back home in socks either, there’s surely a great variety and at least one new kind of fungus waiting impatiently to join the EXO dorms. Here, take these,” you fetched him your extra ballerina shoes and his grin turned into a straight line as he catched them mid-air.
“You better not fucking tell Chen I walked back home in ballerina shoes, he’d never let me live past it,” you let out a bright laugh as you saw him struggle with fitting his feet into your shoes and curse at you for it. “It’s not my fault you’re Bigfoot’s third cousin, now hurry up, I’m hungry,” you grinned when he stuck his tongue out at you as if you were nine and confectioned a pretty bow as a knot for the shoes.
You two walked out and headed to your house for dinner. Jongin and you had been friends since the first day of training nine years ago, since the directors kept pairing you two up, you ended up spending lots of time together so gather ups weren’t uncommon even now that you two were each living on your own and had a successful career in idol groups. While you showered, he ordered take out for both of you and you set everything up as he showered afterwards.
As usual, he once again forgot to tell the person on the phone not to add onions to your order because of your allergies, so you once again ended up eating his fried chicken not feeling one ounce of guilt as he looked at it while eating your order, regretting his life decisions. It was okay, though. You knew you couldn’t rely on him and letting him order your food would more likely than not cause you to be close to death, but you could rely on him for other things. You could rely on his strong arms holding you up securely whenever you had to practice an intricate figure, and he could rely on you always having an extra pair of ballerina shoes to cover up for his mistakes. Talking about regretting life decisions…
A/N: This smol piece of I don’t know was inspired by that gif. I was planning to write a smut but that gif came across and I couldn’t help it. I’ll still write the smut but I had to do this, I’m not sorry.
Request: Fluffy scenario where Kookie finds his s/o crying because she is so insecure about her body and her face & he comforts her?
Genre: Drama / Fluff.
Jungkook suspected something was amiss when you said you weren’t going to make it to your date. And knew that for a fact since you had spent all week rambling and talking nonstop about the place and how much you wanted to go together, to top it all you had a long time without going to a proper date so it was beyond strange that you called him to say you weren’t going. He kept asking through the phone for reasons but you sidestepped around the questions leaving him without knowing anything, your voice sounded off too, that made him more suspicious, so Jungkook decided he wasn’t going straight home, he had to know what was happening and what you were hiding from him.
Jungkook headed to your house, it didn’t take long to get there and when he arrived your mother opened the door for him, letting him in with a smile, by this point in your relationship he already knew all your family, it was common for him to visit you at your house so your parents weren’t surprised to see him there. -May I speak with Y/N?- You mother nodded. -You arrived at a good time sweetheart, Y/N doesn’t want to leave her room- Jungkook frowned. -Something happened?- Your mom shook her head. -I’m not really sure, but she doesn’t want to come out and she won’t talk with anyone- His eyes widened, he wasn’t expecting exactly this, but worry came to him like a flooding wave, something was obviously wrong. -Alright, I’ll go and see if she wants to talk with me-
Your mom gave him permission to go into the house to your room, Jungkook already knew the way so he got there in no time, finding your door securely locked. He knocked twice. -Y/N?- You didn’t answer and Jungkook’s frown deepened, he knocked again, calling for you louder this time. -Y/N? I know you’re there-
I hope that this was to your liking and thank you again for your request. I really appreciate it! It was actually a really nice piece to write and I enjoyed writing it, so thank you again ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ
Having found themselves on the outskirts of the Land of Wind, the wife and husband duo had stopped to rest beneath a rather large tree. While Sasuke was more than willing to push ahead, Sakura had insisted that they stop for a bit. It was unlike her, but he stopped nonetheless. And after a brief moment of silence between the two, his wife spoke.
Pregnant. The word was practically foreign on his ears and in all honesty, he wasn’t sure how to react. Did he react with joy or worry? Did he send her back to the Leaf? Travelling around pregnant certainly wasn’t a good idea and it couldn’t possibly be good for the baby.
“Sasuke?” The subtle worry in her voice made him turn. That’s right. He still hadn’t responded.
“Sakura,” he stepped forward, placing a gentle hand atop her head. “…That’s great news.” A smile lifted his lips. It really was great news. Sakura, his wife, was pregnant with his child.
“Oh good,” she breathed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know it’s a bit of a shock but…I’m happy.” She placed her hands gently to her stomach, a blush warming her cheeks. She was truly the essence of beauty and the more he looked at her, the more in love with her he became. And he would come to love her more and more as her stomach expanded. He honestly didn’t know what to do with himself for the next nine months. But as the months progressed and as Sakura’s belly grew, Sasuke grew more and more comfortable with the fact that he was going to be a father. The Uchiha Clan, his family, was slowly expanding.
“Hey Sasuke, why don’t we take a break here?” Sakura was standing a little ways away from him, her hand resting on her stomach. Having moved from the Land of Wind and entering the Land of Earth, the two stopped to rest at a nearby stream. Nearly six months ago, Sakura had announced her pregnancy and now, here she stood; harboring their child. He watched as the woman relaxed into the grass, releasing a soft sigh as she did so.
“Man, this baby sure is heavy. And it’s only been six months.” She looked down at her rounding stomach, caressing it gently. The young woman was more than a little excited for this child to be born. After all, this child alone would be the exact representation of their love. Looking up towards the black haired man, she watched as he silently sat down beside her.
“Did you want to feel?” She inquired, a small smirk on her lips. Sasuke stared at her, completely dumbfounded. Although he had thought about it several times, he was always too embarrassed to ask her for permission. The last thing he needed was to feel her stomach and find himself eating dirt in the next instant.
Sighing softly, he stretched an arm forward and placed it on her stomach. It was a strange and exciting feeling. Her stomach was much rounder than it had been before and warmer than usual. Could that be a result of the child growing within? “Our child,” he said suddenly, keeping his eyes focused on her stomach. “I can’t wait to meet them.” He looked up at his wife, rewarded with the soft pink hue to her cheeks. Her eyes were wide and her mouth agape slightly. It seemed that he had said something rather surprising.
Attempting a feeble recovery, she responded quickly, “W-Well, we’d better keep moving. Right?” On a typical day, the young man would have easily agreed with her. He still had much of the world to see and he wasn’t about to stop now. But this time, he replied softly, “No. Let’s rest a little longer.”
“Huh?” Sakura was more than surprised at the answer. She couldn’t possibly have heard him right. He wanted to rest longer? Her eyes fell to his hand and a smile spread across her lips. She lifted a hand and rest it atop his own hand. It would only be a matter of time before their child was ready to enter the world. And when that day arrived, it would be the happiest day for the both of them.
“So,” she caressed her own stomach, a little ways away from Sasuke’s hand. “Have you told Kakashi Sensei yet?” He looked up at her, face stern. “Or…Naruto?”
In an instant, he stood and replied, “Let’s get going.” Sakura’s jaw dropped. What was so wrong with letting their friends know about the pregnancy? Was it really that awful of an idea?
Grabbing the hand he extended, she pulled herself up from the grass. “H-Hey, Sasuke,” she followed after him, amazed at how quickly he could move. “There’s nothing wrong with telling those guys! I’m sure they’d be more than excited to hear about the baby. Sasuke! Wait!”
Stopping just before the treeline that lead deeper into the woods, he watched her silently. Of course he had thought to tell Kakashi and Naruto, and had done so several weeks after she announced her pregnancy, but he wasn’t about to admit that to Sakura. If he did, she would hold him to it for days on end and he would never escape her teasing. Picturing it now gave him chills and so, he would avoid the topic as much as possible. For now, he would turn her focus on something more important. Like a name for the baby.
“Hey, Kakashi Sensei! Any letters yet?”
Naruto came in almost every morning, asking the same question time and time again. And each morning, Kakashi would respond with the same answer: “No.” But this time and this time only, the man replied calmly, “As a matter of fact, I just received a letter from Sasuke this morning.”
“What? Really?! What does it say? How are things? How’s Sakura?” The questions stumbled free from his mouth in a whirlpool of both worry and excitement. He always hoped to hear from the two of them and he always hoped that whatever he heard from them was positive. But since Sasuke returned and took Sakura, he had heard little to nothing from them. Occasionally, Sakura would write a letter or two, informing everyone where they were and what they were doing. Although receiving a letter from Sasuke was more than unusual.
“Well, it only has one word on it. Why don’t you read it for yourself, Naruto?” Kakashi handed over the letter, a smile spreading across his face from beneath his mask.
“Huh?” The blonde took the paper quietly. As soon as the word was read and processed, his entire face lit up. He turned to Kakashi, then to Shikamaru, and then back towards the paper. After a brief moment of silence, he cheered loudly, bouncing around the room.
“Hey, calm down, would’ja?” Shikamaru breathed, a smile of his own spreading on his face. He wasn’t one for cheering out loud or making a fool of himself, but even he couldn’t hide the fact that he was overjoyed by this sudden letter.
Kakashi watched the blonde quietly, joy bubbling within him. Pregnant. Well…guess I’ll have one more to love, won’t I?
“Hey Sasuke, I was thinking…” Sakura walked beside her husband, her hand intertwined with his own. He kept his eyes ahead, but his attention went straight to her. “Maybe we could name the baby Itachi. After your brother.” She looked up at him, waiting for an answer. “And if it’s a girl,” she continued. “We could name her Tsunade!” A grin spread across her face and a chill ran down Sasuke’s spine. The last thing he wanted was a child named Tsunade.
“How about Haruto, if it’s a boy,” he was rewarded with a pair of puckered lips and furrowed brows. “And Sarada if it’s a girl.” The pink haired woman turned to him. A smile warmed her face and a hand dropped to her stomach quietly.
“Sarada. Sarada Uchiha…” She murmured to herself, giggling softly. “It’s perfect.”
“Well, it’s only perfect if it’s a girl.” He breathed in response. However, she was too lost in swooning over her stomach and he couldn’t help but smile a little. This child was an Uchiha, his child. No matter how many times he thought about it, he was always thankful to the woman that bore this child. Sakura Uchiha. It was a name that warmed his heart, sent great waves of relief washing over him and his every thoughts. Together, they were raising a family and that fact alone was enough to make him the happiest man in the world.