#JUST MAYBE... kissed... but ONLY on the cheek anything else is gross and yucky''

[not-enough-eyes]

Im being so genuinely serious when I say this lesbians need 2 start being hornier on main - outside of Tumblr [and even on tumblr tbh] bisexuals, gay men, straight women, straight men etc can start talking abt their sexual escapades no problem but anytime a lesbian starts talking abt how she wants 2 get it on w another woman suddenly were all puritans clutching our pearls - let lesbians talk abt how they wanna fuck nasty !!! They deserve it !!!!!!

[ficklewish]

All of You

A Leviathan x Reader fic

Genre: Fluff, slight angst

Wordcount: 1.2k

Warnings: none.

.・゜゜・✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*.・✫・゜・。.｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

You knew that falling for a hardcore otaku demon would be a bad idea, and yet, your heart didn't listen. Leviathan was someone you never expected to come into your life and invade your thoughts every waking moment of the day, sometimes even in your dreams. No matter how hard you tried to make your brain become occupied with something else-work, food, sleep, anything else-it always went back to him. Even when being in the human realm, you would wonder if he was doing alright, if he was eating and sleeping properly.

To everyone else, they thought Leviathan was ugly or gross, seeing as he would sometimes go weeks without bathing. To you, he was adorable. Whenever you'd force him to shower and he'd whine about possibly missing the newest anime premiere, you'd think he looked so cute, staring at you with those sad eyes of his, trying to convince you to let him stay and watch. Whenever Leviathan would go on a spree of playing games and not leave his chair for anything, you always brought him snacks and some water, telling him to take a break every now and then to hydrate and eat.

Even with how insecure and tsundere like he was, you fell for him, because to you, he was perfect. However, that didn't mean you told him right away. You'd always give some stupid excuse to not confess, when in reality you were scared beyond words. In your mind, confessing to Leviathan was the same as going into a boss fight severely underleveled. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get yourself together and just….say it. Which is where you are now. Planning out how you were going to confess to Leviathan.

"Hmm….maybe through Minecraft- no that's not gonna work too well….". You had been at it again, trying to plan out how you were going to confess to Levi without making a fool of yourself. Pacing back and forth in your room, plotting some stupid plan. Being so caught up in your head, the notification ring from your D.D.D scared you, and you went to see what or who it was, secretly hoping it was Leviathan asking to hang out. Your silent hopes were crushed when you saw it was Satan asking you to head to his room. Heading over, you pass Mammon and Asmodeus in the hall, both rambling about money or skin care or something. Once at Satan's room, you ask what he needed you for.

"I'm tired of seeing you and Levi go back and forth with each other." You blinked. "What do you mean?" Satan puts his book down and looks at you. "I mean the fact that you both have feelings for each other, it's pretty obvious." Feeling heat rising up your neck, you immediately start denying your feelings towards Levi. However, Satan wasn't having any of it. "Listen, just go confess to him. The worst that could happen is that he'll faint from being too flustered." You couldn't go against what he was saying, as you knew it was true. And yet, the fear that ran through your body was unstoppable. As if reading your mind, Satan puts a hand on your shoulder. "I promise you, nothing will go wrong. But if he does pass out, you owe me a book of my choice." You smacked his head.

It had been an hour since then, and you had been standing in front of Leviathan's door for a good minute trying to calm yourself down. You could hear the noise coming from his computer and the rapid clicks of his mouse, most likely playing a game. Smacking your cheeks a few times, you sucked it up and knocked on his door. "Levi…?" No answer. Maybe he had his headphones on? You tried again, louder this time, and it sounded like he finally noticed as you heard a small crash of something falling onto the floor. "W-who is it?!" You noticed how startled his voice sounded. "It's just me…" The door immediately swings open, and you almost stumble from the fright it gave you. Looking up at Leviathan with wide eyes, he stares back down at you with red cheeks. "What're you doing here? It's almost 11 pm." Had it really been that late? "Oh, I'm sorry, should I go then? I didn't check the time and thought it was earli-'' You couldn't finish your sentence as he had dragged you into his room and shut the door, effectively startling you once again. "No, no, don't go! B-but don't take this the wrong way!" How cute. You noted that his game was paused, and that what fell onto the floor was a controller of his. Most of the lights were off, the only light in the room coming from the massive fish tank, covering everything in a blue glow. "Did something happen? Why are you here?" Remembering your reasoning, you feel the nervousness and heat running through your body again. This was it. Whatever happens, happens. "I actually need to tell you something." Standing in front of him, you look into his eyes for the first time. Under the blue lighting, Leviathan looked ethereal, almost as if he never fell from heaven. The blue lighting fit him perfectly, and all you could do was admire him. You completely forgot about everything, and Leviathan was growing restless and flustered with your staring. Covering his face with his hand, he looks away.

"Leviathan, I love you." A moment of silence passed before you realized what just transpired. Eyes widening in shock, you smack your hand over your mouth. You did it. You finally confessed. You refused to look at him, scared at what expression he was making. "Why?" All emotions left you, and you looked at him in disbelief. "I'm a yucky otaku, I don't shower for weeks at times. Why me? I'm not worth it." You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Leviathan thought he wasn't worthy of love. Bullshit. Marching right up to him, you grab his face between your hands and force him to look into your eyes. "Levi, you're absolutely worth it, no matter what you think. You're such an amazing demon, you care about your brothers, you just have your own way of doing it. Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise. It's okay to not shower for a while, as long as you're happy and comfortable, that's all that matters. I fell for you, all of you." You smiled at him, and he couldn't take it anymore. Levi crushed you in a hug, trembling slightly, trying to hide his crying face in the crook of your neck. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, using one hand to pet his hair to comfort him. Moving you both to his bathtub bed, you try your best to lay down with him, although it took a while to get comfortable in such a small space as Levi was huge. You didn't know how long it was until he calmed down, but you didn't mind. He moves his head from your neck and looks up at you, eyes bloodshot and puffy. You smile at him, and kiss his forehead, pulling him closer to you. "Go to sleep, it's late." He nods, nuzzling his face to your neck again. Before he drifts off, he gives his answer. "I love you too…" Your smile grows wider, and soon, you follow after him.

--------

Bonus:

"He didn't faint." You look at Satan with a smug look, and he sighs. "Well, that's fine." Then, he smirks. "So, about that mark on your neck…" You smack him. He laughs.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆-: ✧ :-゜・．.・。.・゜✭・✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟ

a/n: sorry for such a long wait on a new fic 😭 I had severe writers block for a while, hope this makes up for it!

[yamithediaperdork]

Forgotten stories 1:Baby angel (Mortal instruments)

Jace stared at his birth father, mouth open in shock. the older blond was all grins however as he held up a pair of short-all's and a diaper shirt on a coat hanger with one hand, and was holding a pack of special adult diapers with the other. His father had been talking about how much he wanted to be back in jace's life and Jace himself was more then open for that (lord knew he could use the break from demon slaying) but then his dad had suggested starting from the beginning, at which point he had pulled out the embarrassing garments. Jace couldn't help but notice, even in his shock that the diapers in question were call lil stinkers, and the pack had a boy not much older then himself all scrunchie face and clearly dumping a load in the back of his nursery print diapers..with the pack boasting about it's heavy duty capacity and it's new and improved smell blockers "Sooo..what do you think?" Stephen asked, as it had been a full 20 seconds now since his son had said anything. "..Are you on crack!?" "..Not the answer i was hoping for, but we can work with it.. No sweetie, daddy isn't on any drug but the love you bring into his life!" "..No really, what are you on? should i be checking the trash for needles?" "Sweetie your starting to hurt daddies feelings." "You wanna put me back in diapers and dress me up like a baby!" "Well no, thats not true." "..YOU HAVE SHORTALLS AND DIAPERS! How is that NOT a baby!?" "because I'ma make you a toddler. totally different." ".. I'm checking the trash cans." "enough, come on, I really think that you letting me dress you up will help us bond. give me ONE day, just one!" stephen pleaded and set the items down, bringing his hands together to beg. "Ngggh..One day.. and I'm not craping myself." jace said, looking at the outfit and well, maybe a small tiny itty bitty little part of him was wondering just what the diapers would feel like. "Deal!"

20 minutes later and Jace, the more powerful of all of those with angel blood.. was staring at himself in the mirror with a red face. the thick diapers pushed his legs apart and the black shortall's simply bulged trying to contain the double thick diapering he'd gone under. (and when he had tried to whine that one was enough, Stephen had merely pointed out that since it was for one day only, he wanted maxamin diaper butt cuteness..unless jace was willing to make it three day. at which point Jace had huffed and hugged the chicken stuffie his daddy had handed him) Stephen had even quickly checked jace's core temp while diapering him, slipping a finger in and out of his sons butt hole a few times and jace could almost swear there was still a finger or SOMETHING up there! his white diaper shirt did go along nice with the shortalls, and his power ranger socks and sonic sneakers (velco of course) had his crinkling and really looking like a big baby. 'toddler.' he reminded himself and huffed, clutching chickenboo (so what if he had named the stuffie already?) closer to his chest. "You look so friggen cute!" Stephen gushed, coming up behind his son and kissing the big toddler's cheek, making him squirm. "Daddy.." jace whined, but a little smile broke out. "So ready to go to the park and play?" Stephen asked, and ducked from the swing of death (trademark pending) that came from jace using Chickenboo. "take it thats a no." Stephen chuckled. "No outside!" "But daddy wants to push you on the swing set!" "NO.OUT.SIDE!" huffed the pouty boy who was glaring now. "how about a deal? if you can keep your diapies clean for a hour, then no outside. you go tinkle or boom boom.." Stephen trailed off and smiled. "..fine! but first me and chicken boo are going and checking the trash cans." "..for the last time, i'm not on smack!"

after checking the trash can's anyways, Chickenboo and jace settled down in the living room, sitting on the floor with his sneakers still on (just in case he decided he wanted to play outside according to daddy, like THAT was gonna happen) and watching cartoon while Daddy made them lunch. Seeing that it was Grilled cheese and fries jace put on a polite face, as he would of preferred some Chinese take out but then again he likely would of ended up having to answer the door and then would of had to kill the delivery boy to keep rumors of this from spreading, so it was for the best. the sandwich was mostly good till he got to the middle, where he started to gag and choke and Stephen was there in a instant, patting his back and asking if he was ok before Jace was finally able to spit up what had started to gag him, a slice of cucumber! "are you trying to poison me!?" the huffy big toddler whined in the aftermath. "..are you allegoric to them?" "No! but their GROSS! and Yucky!" Jace huffed and whined, then used part of the blanket he had been sitting on to wipe his touge to clear off the icky cucumber taste. '...and he wonders why I think he's perfect for being a big toddler.'

it wasn't too long after that though that jace had gone from playing with chickenboo, sitting up on the couch with daddy to bolt up and dashing for the bathroom. 'I was wondering when those would kick in.' Stephen thought, casually strolling up behind Jace who was now in the bathroom, whining and struggling with the shortalls, and pooting up a storm. "oh my, sounds like somebody could use some help!" "G-Guhh..Daddy come on! I'm gonna crap myself!" Jace whined and pleaded. "well you ARE diapered so that would be ok.. butttt I guess i'll be nice and let you use A potty." Stephen said. "thank you thank you thank you!" Jace mewed and turned so daddy could get the stupid frigging buckles undo for him. "but we'll have to go back out to the living room." Stephen added. "...but the toilets right here!" JAce whined and let out a LOUD fart that had the boy hunching over, a look of panic on his face. "The adult potty is, you're potty is in a closet in the living room. do you wanna argue with daddy and poop your diapies, or listen like a good boy and go boom boom in a potty?" "Big boy! big boy!" "heh. then take daddies hand." Stephen said and held his hand out. moaning and whining, jace limped behind Stephen as they headed back for the living room, he was on the verge of losing it and it was only his angel blood that had kept him from disgracing himself this far. the potty was a stupid DUCK and Jace instantly hated it, but compared to his other option he knew he couldn't be picky.. Daddy got his shortalls off and then undid the snaps on the diaper shirt as jace whimpered and whined, almost on the verge of tears. "Dadddy hurry! I can't hold it much longer!" the big baby whined, wetting his diapers as he struggled to hold his poopies in and then the diapers were tugged down and off, along with everything else and in just his socks and sneakers Jace plopped down on the duck potty, grabbing the handles and crying out as wave after wave of hot sludge erupted from his bottom. "P-P-Pooooping daddddy!" "yup, you sure are. on the potty! such a big boy!" Stephen said and kissed jac'es forehead as the poor boy was unloading everything in his guts. the smell quite frankly was awful, but to Stephen it was victory and he decided to hold off mentioning that the wet diapers meant they could go to the park. a weak trickle of urine mixed with the poopies and with a final spurting fart, Jace just leaned against the potty, panting and sweating. "wow, i'm shocked you still have your bones after that!" Stephen teased and got a weak glare from Jace. "Just..Just hand me some tp, a ice pack and let me mourn for my butt hole." Jace mumbled. "Cute. but little guys don't wipe themselves. you strong enough to stand up and bend over for daddy?...for me to wipe your butt..just realized how that sounds." stephen said, then added the second part quickly. "..I'd kick your butt but I just down have the power right now." Jace mumbled weakly and slowly got himself standing and bent over, closing his eyes tight as stephen wiped his now slightly gaping asshole with the little guy all clean, stephen led him to the bedroom, still naked save for his feet and noted that Jace looked half out of it, rubing a eye and yawning lots. not a dsingle argument was given as daddy laid him on the bed and tugged his shoes and socks off, then got the big toddler in a fresh diaper (only one this time and then handed jace chickenboo. "I think somebody could use a little nap." Stephen said and kissed jace's cheek as the oversized toddler blushed and snuggled into the stuffie. "am..kinda sleepy.." "Have a good sleep buddy. daddy love you~" Stephen coo'ed. "..Love you too daddy." the strongest demon slayer in the world mewed, then as daddy tugged the curtains closed and tip toed out, Jace drifted off to dreamland, with one last thought echoing in his head. 'Maybe this isn't so bad after all..'

[vinylhazza]

ethan being sick and begging you to suck him off because he wants you to take his pain away temporarily

“i’m dying this is what’s happening my life is ending and i haven’t planned my funeral or beat the last level on my batman game,” ethan is groaning from the his side of the bed, pathetic and small under the heap of covers on top of his limp body. you wanted to cuddle but you needed to tidy up the room just a bit or you would surely go insane from the clothes strung all over the wooden floor, bed, and chair.

it’s never messy in his room but he’s a sick mopy mess so you thought you would help out knowing how annoying and whiny men get when they are sick. hence ethan’s over dramatic testament.

so you’re bustling around picking up cups and making little comments here and there:

“a banana peel ethan? really?”

“you haven’t even worn these shorts yet why are they on the floor?”

“okay that’s it, this is the last cup i better find in here or i’m gonna flip”

and he would be laughing at your irritated voice and try and kiss it away for you but he’s so fucking sick he can’t even find he energy to pay attention. you sound like his mother and he hates it but he feels like he literally can’t move. he’s been stumbling around the house sneezing his soul out at every 10 second periods that the energy has drained away from him and leave him to be a stiff lump under the covers. all he’s good for at this point is whining.

he wants to cuddle. he wants to cuddle so bad, but his best friend at the moment is a pale blue box of tissues that are half empty from him blowing his face off for so long. his nose his red, itchy, and sore and his cheeks are puffy and pale. he doesn’t look good. perfect to you as always but to anyone else he probably looks like death. but when you hear his statement you are whipping around.

“e baby you aren’t dying you’re just sick quit being a whiner,” you smile softly at him, stepping close and leaning onto the bed to kiss his cheek despite his quiet warnings that he is a walking sickness machine.

“but i ammmm i just want some lovin’ but i’m tired” he’s mumbling, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear gently. his tone is suggestive and he’s fiddling with the necklace he got you for christmas, sparkling against his face from the light of the lamp. he couldn’t handle the natural light from his window - moaning that it was too bright and was just mother nature mocking his headache.

“bubba you’re a little too tired to do anything aren’t you? you can’t even move,” you’re trying to be rational but it’s hard because you would never turn down any sexual moment with ethan even if he is sick. he was the one denying all the attention all day and warning you away like he had the plague.

“yeah but maybe you could...give me a little somethin for my troubles?” he smirks with hopeful puppy dogs eyes, now moving to twirl a lock of your hair around his finger.

“a little something for your troubles huh?” a sly smile is cast across your face at the look in his eyes, honestly excited because he hasn’t even let you touch him except for him spooning you during the night since the day he got sick. you have been having to beg to even lay against his chest when he naps. he loves his girl, just doesn’t wanna get you sick. and honestly you wanted to help him out cause it might help you out too, seeing him all worked up again. “such an inconvinence isn’t it?” you mutter with a teasing gleam.

he’s nodding with his bottom lip out in a pout, brown eyes gleaming up just drinking in all the sympathy he can get so he feels a little better. he still can’t breathe that well but when the cover finally drops and the cold air hits the skin that was showing just under his hoodie, he’s sucking in a breath and clutching your hand - wanting you to help him but hating the cold so so much.

ethan watches as your bat his hand away with a giggle, assuring him he’ll be warm in no time. you quickly remove his joggers with urgent fingers, wanting to get the show on the road seeming as you were just as eager to have him in your mouth as he was to be in it.

he hoped you knew how much he appreciates you doing this when he’s been so yucky and gross. but you would never think of ethan in any other way than your honey - he was just a bit sick that’s all.

he complies by lifting his hips when you tug at the band of his boxers, knowing he’s rock hard and being slightly impressed that he got that worked up just by the thought of you sucking him off but knowing it’s been a few days and that seems to be a lot when it came to you guys. he normally can’t keep his greedy hands off of you.

he watches with a ghost of a smile as you tug the boxers down so he springs free and all the way down to his feet and toss them to the end of the bed.

“make you feel all better,” you whisper absentmindedly, knowing it’s not going to fix the virus persay but it’s gonna make him feel better for a little while and get his body amped up for a bit.

“thank you swee- h-holy shit okay,” he’s overwhelmed already by your warm hand that comes to wrap around him. his voice is shaky and little coming from such a big man.

“holy shii- okay that’s-“ he breathes when he feels your hot palm circle around him, squeezing lightly. his voice is gravely but he gets the point across well. you’re smoothing some of his precum that oozed from the tip down his base, alluringly clutching his dick and smirking at the fact it is much more smooth and wet and easier to rub.

your movements are slow at first, wanting to ease him into it and give him a slow burn so it would last longer for him because he just looks so excited. it’s a slow up, down, and twist of your wrist with heavy eye contact. you’re thumbing the slit quickly back and forth making his cock jump in your hands and his body jolted with a gutteral moan, drawn out and heavy.

“fuck that felt good baby”, he’s admitting through quivering lips. he really looks like he might cry with how good you’re already making him feel.

you were taking your time. it was honestly because you were nervous and excited to get him in your mouth at the same time. it just seemed like everytime you saw him bare he got bigger. you would never tell him that he already had a massive ego. you always tease him about being small and it usually gets him into an angry possessive sex mood and you love it too much to ruin it with admitting he’s actually massive. he knows it anyway. when you usually say these things he fucks you against every surface of the house and he didn’t give a damn WHO was in the house, just that you know his dick is the only one you’re ever going to need.

he did look quite cute laying down all snuggled in his hoodie, the neckline just low enough to show his mouth. you could’ve giggled but he kept twitching in your hand and making it hard to concentrate. his girth his heavy in your palm, so fucking hard so fast.

he’s looking at you with timid eyes, tucking fringe back when you lean down to give his tip a sweet kiss. the sight of your hot plump lips laying against the tip affectionately, passionately, almost like you loved it, sent another moan ripping through him quickly.

your eyes closed and your lips envelope him after waiting so long to get him as hard as he could get, so tight and wet. you’re twirling your tongue and rolling it on him.

“roll your tongue on me- yes yes like that keep doing that- oh,” he’s whimpering and clutching your hair in his hand, slipping the the hoodie higher over his stomach from started to sweat and getting too hot.

you’re suckling on his cock like a pacifier, wide doe eyes blinking at him under long eyelashes. he groaned and his hips threatened to buck. you know he’s completely not concerned about how sick he is at this point, just about your warm wet mouth working on him. your pussy is clenching and pulsing, craving him being up inside you. but you want to just ease him into this and if you would have him inside you at this point you would just ride him until you black out so that wouldn’t be the best option.

he’s panting heavily when you take a hard lick against the head of his dick, tonguing the slit and swirling it for added torture. your hand wraps around his base once more.

you’re rubbing him up and down fast, spreading spit over his length to make your hands that much smoother against him.

“this making you feel better bubba?” your voice is thick and sweet like honey, dripping with seduction.

“yes,” he swallows hard, voice tiny and desperate. he’s all but massaging your scalp as you sink down on his dick repeatedly.

you speed up to a steady pace, twisting one hand to meet your mouth on the way down, focusing on his erratic breathing and the gasps and whimpers he would let escape from his slack mouth. focused on the tightening of his stomach and hand in your hair.

“shiittt- mhm im gonna cum,” he warns you urgently, lifting his hips into your mouth to face fuck you gently with the energy he had left.

“give me all of it bubba,” low voice pushing him further to that place. you look up at his face once more and moan around him when you notice color had come back to his face, rosy cheeks to match his rosy nose.

you knew what was coming and you were prepared to catch it all. you hummed around him and with that he yelled out, finishing in your mouth in hot spurts shooting onto your tongue. it just keeps coming. he’s letting go so hard his thighs are quivering, his head is thrown back, mouth open, moaning loud, eyes watering, totally gone.

you suction your lips when you come up, keeping all of it inside and taking his face in your hand, making him look as you swallow. that has him shooting a little more from the tip, kind of embarrassed at this point that he came that hard but feeling so good and warm he doesn’t care.

“fuck you’re too good to me,” he chuckles, a drunk dazed looking smile coming to his face. you laugh lightly, lowering yourself down to have him wrap his big arms around you. you have to take the crap you picked up to the kitchen but you’re honestly horny as fuck so you might have to fix your own situation before you can even think about continuing to clean.

“you deserve it bubba,” you mutter, kissing and sucking on his neck, pulling the covers back up to cover his lower half and over your shoulders. his breathing is becoming heavy, the blood flowing through him easier now he feels like. he’s sleepy and your lips on his neck feel so good that he’s slipping into sleep again. so thankful for his angel.

[lavenderprose]

what about the very first time irina gets injured (not seriously!! but to the extent where she is howling and viktor and yuuri both cant??? do anything?? oh god please stop crying baby) maybe she ends up in hospital and she is finally sleeping in the huge hospital bed after falling asleep squeezing viktor's hand and with yuuri cuddling up with her stroking her hair pressing his face into it kissing her head reassuring himself she's fine but when he meets viktors eye they both just crumple ;_;

oh my God anon okay so like when I was little I followed my mom into the bathroom and she didn’t realize it and she accidentally closed the door on my finger and like it wasn’t broken or anything and I didn’t blame her because honestly I was kind of Jazzed because I Felt Important when they X-ray’d my hand and I was a gross gremlin child so I thought it was cool that my fingernail turned black but like looking back I can tell how guilty she was about the whole thing and like what IF

What if it’s something like that only more serious like Irina’s poor little foot. Like it’s early in the morning and Irina is following Yuuri around and rubbing her eyes with her little sippy cup and Yuuri is four months pregnant with Mikhail so he’s got some serious Pregnancy Brain going on and he doesn’t notice Irina following behind him until he walks into the closet and slides the partition closed behind him to get dressed and hears the worst most ear-splitting scream he has ever heard.

Now I’m not a mother but I am a daycare teacher. I hear babies scream on a regular basis and I can tell the difference between ‘screaming for attention’ and ‘screaming that can wait for a minute’ and ‘HELP ME HELP ME NOW HELP ME.” I also maintain that there is something instinctive in every mammal that knows what the scream of their baby sounds like and gets an immediate and horrible rush of adrenaline from it.

This is definitely screaming of the HELP ME HELP ME NOW DADDY HELP ME variety, and Yuuri immediately slams the door back open. Viktor flies into the bedroom, feet practically not touching the ground–he’ll later realize that he has absolutely no memory of what happened between Irina screaming and him suddenly holding her in his arms, frantically searching her body for injury, but from physical evidence he’ll gather than he dropped the coffee carafe at some point, shattering it–and it’s a mess of both of them demanding, “What? WHAT???” while Irina screams and screams.

Eventually, Irina finds the word FOOT in one of her languages and neither of them know which one it is but they don’t have to. 

“Oh, oh, oh,” Yuuri takes her itty bitty foot tenderly by the ankle. “Oh, Viktor, oh God. Oh God, it’s swelling. Oh my God, Viktor, I closed her foot in the door. Oh my God.”

Both of them know what a broken foot looks like–they’ve been skating too long not to. The telltale trail of bruising along the outer side of Irina’s foot is already forming, and she squeals with every accidental twitch of Yuuri’s shaking fingers.

“Shit,” Viktor hisses. “Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. Okay. Okay. It’s–Irina, sweetheart, please, please. You’ll be okay. Shh, it’s okay, I’ll–” he rises to go to the nightstand, pulls out his keys and tugs last night’s shirt on over his head. “Okay, let’s–do you–who should drive?”

“You.” Yuuri picks her up, trying desperately not to jostle her foot. She screams anyway and Yuuri feels it go straight through his heart and into the pit of his stomach. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, pushing back tears of his own. “You drive faster.”

“You shouldn’t–”

“Let me carry her,” Yuuri snaps. “I don’t care if it screws up my back, I don’t.”

Viktor lets him carry her down to the car and hold her as he drives, but when he tries to get out of the car with her Viktor stops him.

“You can’t jeopardize the safety of our son because you hurt our daughter,” Viktor tells him.

Yuuri knows that they’re both stressed and that Viktor probably didn’t mean it that way–and that he’s right, Yuuri has both a family and personal history of bad pregnancies. Yuuri thinks about his own problems pre-Irina and his mother’s miscarriages between himself and Mari, thinks about the baby in his arms and the baby inside him, and feels so very acutely helpless for a moment that he feels like he’s falling into an endless pit.

Viktor comes around and takes Irina from Yuuri, waits for him to get out and give the key to the valet before they’re all but running into the emergency room. 

Irina has quieted from wails to whimpers, but the man behind the check-in desk for the emergency room is obviously alarmed when he sees a pair of obviously-distressed parents speeding towards him with a crying two-year-old. He doesn’t even ask them what’s happened before he presses the button to open the ER doors.

“What happened?” asks the triage nurse, already putting Irina on a bed. Irina, scared, picks up her wailing again. 

“She was, um–” Yuuri runs a hand through his hair. “She was following me and I–I didn’t notice, and I closed the closet door–and it slides–and she–I must have caught her foot–I–oh God, I didn’t–I didn’t mean to, oh my God, I–”

The nurse, noticing Yuuri’s mode of panic and the telltale roundness of his belly, says, “Alright. Alright, sir, why don’t you calm down. I need you to calm down. Is he pregnant?” she directs this much towards Viktor.

“Yeah,” Viktor nods. “About four months. And he has anxiety issues–”

“I’m fine,” Yuuri snaps, voice shaking. “I don’t need you–patronizing–”

“Alright, alright.” The nurse carefully sets Irina’s foot down on the bed. “Everyone just needs to stay calm. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

Irina hiccups. 

“Go on, bunny,” Viktor murmurs. “Tell her your name.”

Irina eventually whispers her name into her own shoulder, sniffling.

“Oh, Irina. What a lovely name. Are you an Ira or an Irinka?”

“She’s an Irishka,” Viktor murmurs, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Well, Irishka, you’re going to be just fine. Okay? We’ve just got to take a couple pictures of your foot to see what’s going on inside of it, and then we’ll patch you all up and send you home. Alright?”

Irina nods, red-rimmed eyes turned down.

“Alright. I’ll be back with something to make you feel a little better.”

She leaves, and Yuuri sits down with Irina on the bed. Viktor takes the chair, and they wait. The nurse brings back some baby aspirin, which Yuuri convinces Irina to chew despite it tasting yucky, otosan. 

They take Irina’s X-rays and confirm that her foot is broken. A small fracture that will probably heal with very little problem, given that she’s so young and her bones still have so much elasticity. They bandage the foot and move Irina to a room–a private one, because some of the hospital staff know the name Nikiforov and know that a celebrity and his family probably won’t want their issues aired to anyone else. That’s as far as the special treatment goes, though, because they’re still told that the doctor has left for the day and will have to put the cast on in the morning. 

Irina, likely due to a combination of the baby aspirin and the stress of the day, falls asleep as soon as they get her settled. Yuuri strokes her hair until she falls asleep, laying on his side next to her with his head propped so he can watch the fluttering and eventual closing of her eyelids. When she’s finally asleep, he braves eye contact with his husband for the first time in several hours.

His eyes immediately fill with tears.

“I’m so sorry,” Yuuri whispers. “God, Vitya, I’m–I’m so sorry.”

Viktor swallows, eyes going very soft in the way they do before he cries.

“It’s not your fault,” Viktor murmurs.

“It is,” Yuuri replies. “It is. What’s my job? To make sure she doesn’t get hurt.”

“Your job is to love her,” Viktor says. “Love her more than anything else in the entire world. And you do. You do, baby. Accidents happen. This was an accident.” He holds out a hand. “Come here. Please, come here.”

Yuuri does. Viktor pulls him down into his lap and presses his cheek to Yuuri’s shoulder, his hand to Yuuri’s belly just below his navel where their son grows. “I should apologize to you. I was talking out my ass earlier. I didn’t–didn’t mean what I said. It was horrible.”

“You were scared,” Yuuri whispers. “It was fear talking.”

Viktor props his head up, looking into Yuuri’s eyes, gentle. “You’re a wonderful father. An amazing one. I love you more every time I see you with her. Do you know that? Do you know you’re the only other person I really trust with her? I know Yakov or Yura or your family would never let anything happen to her, but you’re the only one–the only one who I don’t even have to think about.”

“Even now?” Yuuri whispers, voice thick.

“Even now.” Viktor kisses the curve of his jaw, very tenderly. “When she was born, I was so scared–because I didn’t even trust myself as much as I trusted you and when–when she was born, suddenly you couldn’t–how do I say it? While she was inside of you, I knew she would be safe. There was never a doubt in my mind. I’m sorry I made you–if I made you think otherwise.”

“Oh,” Yuuri sniffs. “I–”

“Otosan?” Irina stirs on the bed. “Papa?”

Like a unanimous agreement, they both crawl into bed with her. 

“We’re here, Irishka.” Yuuri smooths her hair back. “We’re here, honey.”

It’s a tight fit. Irina is small, though, and doesn’t mind being squeezed between them.

“And baby?” Irina mumbles, flattening a hand against Yuuri’s belly far above where the baby would reside. It makes Yuuri’s heart melt anyway.

“Yes,” Yuuri whispers. “We’re all here.”

[queercapwriting]

“(HSAU) Maybe something where alex has to go to the school dance with max Lord cause she’s not out and elizas making her? And Maggie comforts her and says it’s ok? Idk I’m just having a really rough time lately” from @swift1d5sos

She knows.

She knows, because she knew pretty much the minute she first laid eyes on Maggie Sawyer.

She knows, and Kara knows, because she told Kara pretty much the minute after she first laid eyes on Maggie Sawyer.

She knows, and Kara knows, and sometimes she thinks Maggie knows. But Maggie is her best friend, so she hasn’t told her. Hasn’t told her because how can she tell her without telling her she wants to kiss her, without telling her that when they hold hands, she wants it to mean something it doesn’t mean now, without telling her she wants to be her girlfriend, without telling her that when she sleeps over in Maggie’s bed, she doesn’t sleep, because all she wants to do is touch, is kiss, is giggle, is cuddle closer, cuddle more, cuddle romantic?

She knows, and Kara knows, and sometimes she thinks Maggie knows, but she hasn’t told anyone else.

Mainly because she doesn’t want anything getting back to Eliza.

Eliza, who always expects perfection.

Eliza, who is kind to all the other kids -- including and especially Winn Schott, the boy Kara brought home for dinner after he got a black eye for experimenting with nail polish -- but Alex is the exception.

Eliza, who Alex could never stand to disappoint, especially now, especially since... her father.

Eliza, who can’t stop talking about that jerk Max Lord, that jerk Max Lord who came in second to Alex’s Intel entry, that jerk Max Lord who’s so smart and so responsible and oh, Alexandra, isn’t it so wonderful that he wants to take you to the spring formal? He has such wonderful taste, to be courting my beautiful, intelligent girl.

Alex doesn’t know how to tell her no.

Alex doesn’t know how to tell him no.

Because she can’t stand to be a disappointment. 

Because if she tells Max no, she won’t be rejecting one particular boy, one particular date. 

If she tells Max no, she’ll be rejecting Eliza’s hope that she can live a cookie-cutter life, a full life, an exceptional life... a perfect life.

So she bites back tears and she swallows bile and she programs a yes into the robot he made and sent to her locker -- she can’t help but think Winn would have done a more elegant job -- and she accepts Eliza’s hugs and discussions of what dress she’ll buy her and oh, do you want to get your hair done? I’ll pay for it, Alexandra, you’ve been working so hard, you deserve to be pampered.

She bites back tears and swallows bile and tries not to watch Maggie’s fists clench. Tries not to watch Maggie’s jaw set, her eyes water, her nostrils flare.

She tries not to derive any hope from those things.

She tells herself it’s only because they’re friends. Best friends. And they were supposed to go to the spring formal together. As friends. As best friends.

“You have to tell her, Alex. You don’t have to go with Mr. Yucky Pants,” Kara tells her as they walk the beach together that night. Alex scrunches her face up and Kara adjusts her glasses.

Alex’s heart tugs, as the gesture still makes her think of Jeremiah.

“What? He’s rude. And he’s arrogant. All the bad English words you’ve been teaching me.”

Alex can’t help but smirk, and she tosses her arms back in her trademark shrug.

“Yeah, he is, but even if he was the nicest guy -- like, James or Winn or something -- I wouldn’t...”

“I know. Because you’re a lesbian.”

“Shhhh!!!”

“No one’s here, I’m sorry -- “

“I know, Kara, just... just...” Alex groans and holds out her arm, offering it to Kara, who steps eagerly into her embrace. “I’m scared, Kara,” she continues, in a small voice.

“I’m with you,” Kara tells her, and she wraps her arm around Alex’s waist, so they’re walking as close as they can be. Alex sighs and lets herself feel safe.

For now.

For now, until she sees Maggie the next morning on the steps on the side of the school. Until she sees Maggie and she wants to scream, because she still looks sad and she still looks hurt and she still looks like everything Alex wants.

“I don’t wanna go to the stupid dance with that stupid Max Lord,” Alex huffs without preamble, collapsing next to Maggie unceremoniously.

Maggie sits up straighter, and the ghost of hope flashes across her features.

“Oh. Well, you said yes, so I thought you did.”

Alex rolls her eyes. “Ew, no. He’s gross. And even if he weren’t gross, I wouldn’t wanna go with him, I...” She stares and she forgets how to breathe when Maggie’s expectant eyes meet hers, when Maggie’s fingers graze her own so light it almost tickles.

Her best friend. Her best friend. Her best friend.

“I wouldn’t want to go with any boy.”

Maggie’s breath hitches and Alex licks her lips.

“Neither would I,” Maggie whispers like she hasn’t spoken in years. 

Alex’s eyes are stinging, and Maggie’s are wet, too.

“Why are you, then? Going with him?”

“I’m scared,” Alex admits.

“Of?” Maggie asks, and Alex gulps.

“Of what would happen if I went with the person... with the girl... I really want to go with. Instead of some boy.

“What are you scared of?”

“My mom. Not so much the world. But my mom. Disappointing her. And... and you. Losing you.”

Maggie shrivels, and Alex shakes her head, reaching out to take her hand.

“I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t feel the same way. Or if we tried to be girlfriends and it didn’t work and I lost you as a friend.”

Maggie blinks and a tear spills onto her cheek.

“You won’t. Lose me. Not ever. And your mom... she can deal, Danvers. She can deal, because you... you’re perfect.”

Alex gulps. “Perfect for you?”

Maggie grins, and Alex thinks that maybe, just maybe -- with her little sister, with her best friend, with... herself -- she can do this.

“Yeah. Super perfect for me.”

[sun-summoning]

part i | part ii | part iii

-

sakura and sarada make their way to the dock, but five minutes into their walk, sarada gets fussy and demands sakura carry her. after alternating between nuzzling sakura’s neck and thrashing around, sakura hears the girl’s stomach grumble and can’t help but snort.

“don’t laugh at me!” sarada yells. “it’s not nice!”

“sorry, sorry!” sakura quickly soothes. she kisses sarada’s forehead without really thinking about. “you’re just super cute. and hilarious,”

“you’re still laughing, mama!”

sakura clenches her jaw as she works on smothering the rest of her amusement. when she’s quiet, sarada peers up at her shyly. “when i’m hungry,” sakura tells her, “naruto isn’t allowed to talk to me. usually he says something dumb and i snap at him in my hanger.”

“what’s hanger?”

“when you’re hungry and angry.”

“oh.”

“yup.” sakura winks at her and sarada grins back. “why don’t we get some dinner?” she suggests.

she should probably let naruto and sasuke know where she went so they don’t worry, but then she snorts again, not giving a single care for naruto and sasuke who abandoned her with what they though was a ghost demon child. screw them. they could worry.

not really wanting anyone to see them and ask questions about who this girl is, sakura buys them a tray of takoyaki. they stop for some drinks and dessert and then they eat by the lake in the uchiha district. they sit together on the dock, their feet dangling off the edge, and watch the sunset between bites.

sakura has to wipe sauce off of sarada’s cheeks on more than one occasion and has long given up on telling her not to wipe her hands on her pants. all the while, sarada regales her with stories of her parents. 

or, from how sarada words things, about sakura and sakura’s apparent husband.

“-one time papa and i made were going to make you breakfast because papa said you had a bad week.”

“aren’t you a little young to be cooking?”

“yeah, but if i don’t help then the food will be yucky and you would be sad. papa likes tomatoes and he always puts them in stuff but tomatoes are gross.”

sarada continues talking and sakura nearly chokes because you know who else likes tomatoes? 

sasuke. 

and who did sarada say her father was? 

also sasuke. 

“--and remember the resort papa took us to for our birthdays? can we go back there again mama now that he’s back from his mission? or--” sarada pauses and bites her lip. “when he gets better, i mean.”

sakura swallows thickly. “um. sure.” sarada seems to brighten up a fraction so sakura smiles at her. “yes, we definitely can.” and although she knows she shouldn’t, she adds, “i promise.”

“okay!”

sarada continues chatting, beginning most things with “mama, remember when--” and telling her silly stories about her own antics or those of her parents. she talks about sakura like she’s this incredible supermom and about her papa like he’s adores them both so much. she mentions little things about her papa that make sakura pause and consider that maybe sarada’s claim might be true. maybe sasuke could be her father. 

but then sakura looks at her reflection in the water and remembers she’s seventeen, just got back from a war, and definitely not the woman this little girl is talking about. she’s too young to have had a child, she knows she most certainly did not have a child, and, most importantly, sasuke doesn’t love her the way this girl’s father loves her mother.

-

when they return to sasuke’s house, there’s no trace of sakura or the girl. naruto freaks out, rushing through the house and opening every door while screaming sakura’s name and swearing revenge on the ghost demon child if she did anything to hurt sakura. 

“can you not?” sasuke asks.

naruto glares at him. “how can you say that? sakura-chan is missing!”

“or she’s just gone.”

“that’s even worse!”

sasuke counts to ten to keep his temper in check. “naruto, sakura’s shoes are gone and so is her bag. she probably just...went out.”

“hm.” kakashi crosses his arms. “sakura took the potential threat outside without any sort of back up. that’s...surprisingly irresponsible of her.”

sasuke rolls his eyes. “or just nice? the girl is a kid, not a monster. unless--” he eyes the scroll in kakashi’s hand. he still hasn’t explained what it is or why he needed to come back with them when he had more important things to do like assign missions or review the annual budget or read porn at his desk. “--there’s something you’d like to share?”

“yeah!” naruto adds oh so helpfully. “what the hell, sensei! you still haven’t said anything helpful.”

kakashi is saved from having to shamelessly bullshit his way out of an explanation when the front door opens again and they hear sakura talking and the little girl giggling. the two enter the kitchen and naruto grabs sakura. he sweeps her into a tight hug, spinning her around the room.

“ugh,” sasuke scoffs. “can you not?”

“fuck you!” naruto yells when he lets go of sakura.

“oooooh, you said a bad word.”

the little voice draws everyone’s attention to the girl. suddenly shy in the company of more people, she moves closer to sakura until she’s standing behind her legs. sakura bends down and murmurs some soothing words before picking the girl up. 

sakura’s quick affection makes sasuke a bit anxious. did they make a bad decision leaving her alone with the little girl? shit. of course they did! what were they thinking? they knew nothing about her and they just left sakura alone?! sasuke meets naruto’s eyes and knows he’s thinking the same thing. they left sakura with the ghost demon child and now she had sakura under her control and--

“i’m just going to give sarada a quick bath,” sakura tells them.

her mundane words snap sasuke out of his panic. “what?”

“sarada,” she repeats, gesturing to the girl with a turn of her head. “she’s a bit of a messy eater--”

“hey! mama’s being a meanie!”

“--so i’m just going to give her a quick bath.”

she goes upstairs to the bathroom where they first found the girl, leaving sasuke and naruto to wonder what was going on. they both turn to kakashi, only to find him almost hyperventilating.

“whoa, sensei!” naruto yells as he approaches the older man. “are you okay? you need to breathe.”

“i can’t.”

sasuke stands. “should i get sakura?”

“fuck!” kakashi makes a noise reminiscent of a dying animal crossed with laughter. “i’m going to die. i can’t. this is amazing.”

“what the hell are you talking about?” naruto asks.

kakashi shakes his head but again, sasuke’s gaze is drawn to the scroll he’s holding onto.

“you know who she is,” sasuke realizes. 

kakashi’s eyes crinkle as he grins. “that i do.”

-

sakura stays with sarada for a few minutes before understanding she’s smart enough to not let herself drown in the bath. she tells sarada she’s just going to get some clothes because, well, sakura didn’t think that far ahead, and when she’s standing in the doorway, she decides that sarada might be smart enough but accidents still happen, so she leaves behind a clone. 

she goes back down to the kitchen and glares at naruto and sasuke.

“hello, fuckboys.”

naruto pouts. “what’s that for?”

“um, for abandoning me earlier?”

“well you’re a jerk too! you left without even leaving a note. we were worried the ghost demon child got you!”

“she isn’t a ghost demon child, moron. and obviously you weren’t that worried,” sakura says, nodding to the cup of instant noodles naruto prepared in her absence, “considering you had time to cook.” 

“it’s called stress eating. can i live?”

“children!” kakashi calls, getting their attention. “can we focus? we have a strange child and a strange scroll to attend to?”

“right.”

“why don’t you summarize what you’ve learned so far, sakura.”

so she does: 

the girl upstairs is sarada. she’s four-years-old and think she’s from konoha and that sakura is her mother. she also thinks sasuke is her father but sakura keeps that fact to herself. sarada hasn’t done anything that might indicate she’s something evil or might have some bad intentions. she’s just kind of there. calling sakura her mother.

“are you?” kakashi asks.

naruto laughs and sasuke mutters, “really?”

“of course i’m not her mother!” sakura gestures to herself. she chooses naruto and turns to him. “naruto, look at these boobs and tell me i’ve had a baby.”

“i--” naruto looks into her eyes pointedly. “i don’t think i’m allowed to look at your boobs.”

sakura raises an eyebrow at him. “they’re my boobs and i told you to. why would you not be allowed?”

“well, it’s not okay to sexualize you like that. you’re my friend!”

“sexualize? ugh!” sakura crosses her arms, irritated. “i told you to look at them in the context of gauging whether or not they were dragged down by motherhood, not to--” she shakes her head. “you’re gross.”

“at least i own it!”

“that doesn’t make it better!”

sasuke, who had not been looking at sakura’s boobs, decides to end their pointless argument. “we get it. you didn’t have a baby, sakura.”

“thank you.”

“but,” kakashi says, “that doesn’t change the fact that she could still be your kid.”

“okay, you lost me.”

that’s when kakashi grins. or, at least, he probably does, judging by the way his eyes crinkling. damn that mask of his.  “have you kids ever considered time travel?” 

“i...what?”

“time travel,” kakashi repeats.

sakura nods. “no, yeah, i heard you.”

“then why’d you say ‘what’?”

“because apparently tsunade-sama, the greatest hokage this village has ever seen, was succeeded by a delusional idiot.”

“wow.”

sakura shakes her head as she laughs a little. “time travel? kakashi-sensei, that’s ridiculous!”

“well...” naruto, who seems to be considering the idea, frowns at her. “as someone who had a fox living in his stomach for his whole life, are you for real, girl who literally hopped between dimensions to save sasuke?”

shocked that he isn’t as baffled as she is, sakura looks to sasuke for a voice of reason. instead she finds him genuinely thinking over kakashi’s claim.

“sasuke-kun--”

“why are you letting her call you ‘mama’?” sasuke asks.

“what?” 

they all nod, actually curious, and sakura flushes. it’s not like she was encouraging it. she tried to make her stop but the truth is she just didn’t have the heart to. the little girl seemed to think she was someone else -- someone that she positively adored -- and it would have been cruel to stop her. sakura shrugs. 

“b--because i--” sakura huffs and glares at them. “i feel bad!”

“you feel bad.”

“yes!” sakura shrugs. “i just...i don’t have the heart to stop her. she’s just believes it so strongly and i’d feel bad saying no.” she chews her lip. “and she’s adorable.”

as if on cue, sarada begins calling for mama from upstairs.

sakura moves but stops herself to prove a point. sarada calls her again and sasuke raises an eyebrow at sakura, challenging her. 

“you gonna do something about that?” he asks.

“no!” sakura hisses instinctively. but then sakura calls her one more time and she falters. “okay, gotta go, bye!”

-

sakura comes back down soon after to ask sasuke for some old, small clothes that might fit sarada. then she smiles sheepishly and gestures to the drenched front of her own shirt and asks if maybe she can borrow something too. 

rolling his eyes, sasuke leaves naruto and kakashi and goes upstairs with sakura. he hands her some things from his adolescence that would probably be too big on sarada but fit decently enough on sakura.

he lingers in his room after she’s left and considers the entire situation.

who the hell is sarada? where did she come from? and why was she in his house? 

naruto’s “ghost demon child” theory is ridiculous but kakashi’s time travel one actually has some merit to it. sasuke considers the little girl that follows sakura around like her shadow and tries to place her. did she come from the past? is she a relative of his? but that can’t be. there’s no way she could mix sakura up for her real mother. there was no one in his clan that looked like sakura. assuming, of course, she even came from his clan. 

sasuke frowns because she had to be an uchiha. she had the features and she was in his home, walking around like it was hers.

so then did she come from the future?

the question causes sasuke to still. he swallows thickly and because he’s alone, he actually considers it. did the girl come from the future? if she did and sakura was her mother did that make him--

sasuke blushes at the thought. he looks around wildly as if he’s been caught doing something inappropriate. but if sakura was her mother and he was her father, why wasn’t she going around calling him “papa” as much as she was calling sakura “mama”?

it startles him how easily he accepts this possibility, but the truth is there’s no reason it should. a child with sakura? it’s not like there has been anyone else he cared about. and he highly doubts he’ll ever care about someone the way he cares about sakura. he hasn’t done anything to show his feelings, but surely at some point he had to have been able to do something. right?

“screw this.”

deciding that it would be best to just repress his feelings and his thoughts, sasuke exits his bedroom to return downstairs. he passes the bathroom where sakura and sarada are, and he peers in through the open door. 

there he finds sakura kneeling in front of sarada, drying the girl’s hair with a towel while sarada tells her a story including sweeping hand gestures and a lot of smiles on sakura’s end. they both look ridiculous in his clothes. sarada is swimming in his shirt and sakura’s just fits awkwardly. 

but what catches his eye is the uchiha crest on their backs. 

suddenly sakura is standing, looking his way and coming closer. she smiles that sheepish grin she uses when she has to ask him a small favour. “hey, sasuke-kun. sarada made a mess on the floor. could i get another towel--”

“shut up.” 

sakura’s eyes widen and sasuke feels a bit guilty. 

“just. i...” sasuke doesn’t say anything though, suddenly flustered and unsure. his heart is pounding so loudly he wonders if sakura can hear it and wonders what she might think of it. 

“you?” she prompts. 

she looks confused and sasuke tries not to look hurt. it would be ridiculous to look hurt much less feel hurt that what -- that sakura can’t read his mind and tell how much he wants to just be with her?

he doesn’t really get it. it’s not just about being with her -- not in the way that naruto is with a new girl every other week. no. sasuke just wants to be around her. sasuke wants to see all the incredible things she’s learnt how to do and is constantly learning how to do. he wants to hear about her ideas, her missions, her damn day. he wants to laugh at her culinary failures and marvel at her chemical successes. he wants to watch her be better and maybe learn a thing or two. he just wants to be by her side.

“nothing.”

he can see that he’s disappointed her almost as much as he’s disappointed himself. he shakes his head as he goes back to his room and gets her another towel. she’s still standing where he left her, a pensive look on her face, as he hands it to her.

“thanks,” she mumbles.

“it’s fine.”

sakura nods. “i think i’ll take sarada back to my apartment tonight.”

“sure.”

“that is, if that’s okay--”

“i don’t care.”

“o--okay.”

sakura pauses, as if she’s waiting for him to say something else, but then she goes back to sarada and finishes drying her off. 

when they’re done, they go back down to naruto and kakashi. sakura tells them about her plan to keep sarada with her for the night and kakashi looks disappointed but doesn’t stop her. naruto tells her to call him if sarada does anything suspicious like watch her when she’s sleeping, but sakura tells him to go away. 

“goodnight, sasuke-kun,” sakura finally says to him when he walks her to the door. she shifts sarada in her arms so she might better balance her bag. the girl yawns widely and closes her eyes.

sasuke opens the door for them. “bye.”

as they walk away, sarada waves at him lazily and he swears he hears her mumble, “goodnight, papa.”