I wouldn't say much – I love NaruSaku and I hate to see great works shadowed behind the piles of popular NS stories that I never have liked as much except for a few, which also I'll drop below in the list.
I'll update this list whenever I come across a story that I particularly enjoy or finds worth spreading word across. So be sure to like and reblog this post so you can revisit it to add new story in your reading pile later.
Also, genres vary and are not mentioned, but does it make any difference as long as the story is good?
Warning: super long post featuring beautiful, beautiful stories that you wouldn't regret reading. I swear. I'm positive. Contains SNS and other side pairings.
Without further ado;
How I fell in love with my best friend: Krapo || ff.net || M || complete
How the little blond boy Sakura had always known had changed, changing as well her feelings. The unfolding of their life, while Naruto worked to become the best Hokage and she faced her own emotions. Growing Love.
(I have nothing but upmost reverence for this story. This author writes one of the nest NS and I have loved all. NS is beautiful and Sakura is badass. Everything we already know is here and more.)
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Dangerous infiltration mission: Krapo || ff.net || M || complete
Naruto and Sakura are send by the Hokage for a difficult infiltration mission. They will have to face more than just the danger itself as they will have to keep their cover to be fake husband and wife credible. how it will impact the relationship between the two ninja. Growing Love. Misunderstanding.
(If you loved the aforementioned story, you'll love this one too. Mutual pining.)
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All over again: Krapo || ff.net || M || post-war || complete
Sasuke come back, Team seven is reunited. But Sakura has lost Naruto. How will she make him fall in love with her again? What other difficulties lies ahead of them?
(Naruto loses memory. SasuSaku angst but not in romantic sense and I loved it all. Misunderstanding and more mutual pining. And I'm in love with this story too.)
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Hit the floor running: Sakurablossom009 || A03 || M (but unnecessary) || Modern Hitman/Robbers AU || complete
Life was going great, Sakura thought. She was penniless, stranded in Europe without a way home, her fiancee had just dumped her for another woman AND her new companion was quite possibly a thief. How could things get any worse? Wait...was that guy pointing a gun at her?
(Now, personally, I don't prefer modern AU, but this story really had interesting characterisation and more character depth. NaruSaku is pretty spot on. It also features SasuHina and bamf!Hinata)
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The greatest pretenders: snowyseas || ff.net || M || Borutoverse || ongoing
Fifteen years is a long time to not talk to someone you consider your best friend, and is made even more difficult when they (and you) are married. The things Sakura should have confronted Naruto about never came to fruition, but as an old saying goes, "the truth will always be revealed".
(Your typical I-made-a-wrong-choice-but-now-can-be-done story but unlike many other stories in this they don't admit their love for each chapter at the first chapter itself. In fact, it feels so canon and you can almost superimpose it upon the canon. Sakura is mentally strong and knows what's right. )
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He was the sun: SavageTrickster || ff.net || T || Canonverse || ongoing
He had come a long way - from a lonely orphan ostracized by everyone to a loved hero. He deserved all these. His Hokage dream to come true. All the ramen he could eat. - Her eyes fell on a certain Hyuuga seated close enough for accidental touches. Her heart sank a little at a harsh whisper of reminder - And a deserving girl...who could give him all her love.
(So far so good. It's ongoing, and is at chapter 3. Sakura leaves Konoha much like how Naruto did, to explore the world aka seeing my headcanon in writing.)
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Wilderness: Kanji no Sakka || M || canondivergent || ongoing
As the war screeches to a temporary halt, Naruto leaves the battlefield on a unique mission only he can complete. Sakura is ordered to go with him. In the days that follow their bond is changed forever.
(Although I hate any explicit stories that involve characters below age 17, I give this a pass because of the uniqueness of plot and characterisation. It has fine lemons that comes with a good plot.)
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How It Should Have Been: OfPaintAndOil || ff.net || T || canon divergent || oneshot
It wasn't supposed to be this way. Sasuke was supposed to be the dark one, the unredeemable one. Naruto was the bright one, the good one. It wasn't supposed to be like this, with blood on his hands and glowing red eyes and a grin. Naruto was supposed to make everything better, and maybe he did, in the end, but Sakura had never expected the end to look quite like this.
(Featuring Yandere!Naruto. It leaves you wanting for more and is a fascinating read. It's dark themed so proceed with caution as your favorite character might or might not be dead.)
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The Best Dates are the Cheap Ones: Shivakashi || ff.net || T || post!Timeskip || Oneshot
The whole point was to get the best date; that meant the richest and classiest guy, right? Sakura realizes what she has taken for granted and Ino learns a lesson in value.
(Sakura learns her lesson and snatches her boy. InoNaru is worth noting. Not the best characterisation of Sakura but bear with her jealousy for that is the reason why NS fluff exists. Story itself is very light and entertaining.)
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mangoes and strawberries: ohthelinsanity || ff.net || T || postwar || oneshot
Sakura Haruno was elbow deep in Naruto Uzumaki's guts when he asked her to marry him. It was so not the right time. But she still said yes.
(This story just screams NS upon every single line. Diabetes warning. Too cute for this world. One of the best NS fluff I've read thus far. It kinda sticks to you forever!)
in which Naruto asks Sakura about that time she literally reached into his chest and grabbed his heart with her bare hand.
(Heartwarming. We all know how Sakura held Naruto's heart on her palms and how we love that moment. This is memory of that moment reminisced by our cutie pies.)
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One Big Uzumaki Family: John Smith || ff.net || T || postwar || Complete
A set of drabbles revolving around Naruto, Sakura, and their children. It turns out that, when the war ends, these two get busy. Real busy.
(IF YOU DON'T READ THIS MASTERPIECE HOW DARE YOU CALL YOURSELF NS FAN?!!! READ!!! This story should be on the top of your reading list.
UNDERRATED AF!
R e a d t h i s s t o r y and cry with me for this should have been canon. 100%)
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My Life Would Suck Without You: peanutbutter126 || ff.net || T || oneshot collection
Sometimes it's the smallest things that matter the most.
(Read this and then One big Uzumaki family. You'll feel super satisfied. I promise.)
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Colors and Carousels: Folle Sakura || ff.net || T || oneshot
She couldn't count the number of times she'd been mistaken for Naruto's girlfriend. Not that she minded. But Naruto acted like it was so… so… offensive.
(No words for this one. Just read and enjoy the confusion.)
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Let's Get Married: luvtoshi || ff.net || M || postwar || complete
It was supposed to be a simple solution to their immediate problems. But maybe they took more than they can chew?
(This is one of my few favorites that is also popular. Spot on characterization and beautiful relationship growth. This is one of the few stories that always stuck to me.)
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Chasing Smoke with Bare Hands: soulaire || ff.net || T || oneshot
"I could have loved her," Sasuke says flatly. "If she'd just given me the chance—" "Sakura gave you all the chances in the world," Kakashi cuts in, stern. "You underestimated her. And you underestimated her ability to walk away from you. At the core of it all, that's where things went wrong."
(This story is for those who loves both SS and NS but thinks Sakura deserves happier life than what she got in canon. Features NS and slight SS.)
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Touch: ohthelinsanity || ff.net || T || oneshot
Kakashi watches as his student grow to be more physically comfortable with one another. He finds it kinda ridiculous.
(Fluff. Feelings. Kakashi's fed up and might have diabetes from all the observation.)
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Moonlight shadows: luvtoshi || ff.net || T || oneshot
Sometimes, the moon brings out hidden feelings to the surface.
(Beautiful literature. NS feels. You can almost mistake it for canon with the way characters are written.)
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Seriously Serious: Damsel in Shining Armor || ff.net || T || modern AU || oneshot
He confessed to her when they first met. He confessed to her years after. He confessed to her almost everyday. Her response was almost always positive... So why the heck was he still single? "I love you." "Love you too. So is Sasuke-kun taken or not?"
(The only reason why I even picked this story is that it is a oneshot. I have very little interest in modern AU. But this one makes another exception. Pining. Love at first sight.)
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It was always you: luvtoshi || ff.net || M || postwar || complete
The war is long over. They have both grown. Now it's time to conclude their story. Naruto and Sakura.
(You know what, all stories from this author are just, Chef's kiss. )
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A Safe Pair of Hands: Kanji no Sakka || ff.net || T || oneshot
Sakura heeds a stern warning to make it clear how she feels about Naruto.
(Feels. You'll love this if you like first person pov. This story told from Sakura's pov.)
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Other Dreams: tricksie || ff.net || M || oneshot
"Naruto, you shouldn't endanger yourself—" "Stop it," he snapped. Dropping his arm to hook under her seat, Naruto pulled her firmly onto his hip, locking her to him. Sakura gasped, suddenly aware of just how very close they were.
(Sexual tension. Romance. Leaves you wanting. Also, high on feels and lust on equal measure.)
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Heaven Unexpected: Folle || ff.net || M || oneshot
Because nothing can happen; it's Naruto. He always comes back. He's practically indestructible.
(Heavy on feels. There are chances that it might rain. Actually there are high chances. But oh well, it's beautiful and one of my favourites so here it goes.)
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Shade of the Leaf: Ravyn || ff.net || T || canon divergent || complete
Sasuke is back. Naruto has joined ANBU. Sakura is spending more time in the hospital than in the field. Team 7 struggles to redefine itself, because sometimes you don't know what you really want after all.
(Featuring Mature but still in-character!Naruto, Badass!Sakura, (Bit)Supportive!Sasuke along with Team 7 friendship. Mutual pining. Ending but with a lot loose ends.)
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Breaking Up Isn't that Hard to Do: Narf-for-the-Garthoc || ff.net || T || oneshot
This is not an epic tale of action, suspense and true love. Yeah, I'm disappointed, too.
(This is pure comedy. With a dash of romance. And insanity.)
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Steamy Encounters: Narf-for-the-Garthoc || ff.net || T || oneshot
A flurry of coincidences and fateful machinations bring Naruto and Sakura together at the local baths. Can they rein in their animal passions? And do you really think that's the kind of story I write?
(Just r e a d. Please.)
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Garden of Sanctuary: Nes Mikel || ff.net || T || Canon divergent || oneshot
An alternate ending to Naruto. The Heavens describe the Garden a peaceful paradise. The Hells describe the Garden a baneful prison. In here... which is it?
(This is part of a series which you can follow from the author's profile. This is the second part, but can be read exclusively. As far as the AU goes, this story and settings is brilliant and heartbreaking. This is told from Naruto's pov. To look at things from Sakura's, read the first part. It is multi-chaptered.)
While capturing the Kyuubi, Uchiha Itachi finds true adversaries in the form of Haruno Sakura and Uzumaki Naruto.
(Wanna see NaruSaku teamwork? This is it! You wouldn't find it anywhere better. Strong!Naruto, Strong!Sakura versus Itachi Uchiha)
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Life is a waving feather: jusrecht || AO3 || T || AU || oneshot
Everyone thought they were inevitable.
(There's beauty in subtlety and this is that. Also, mentions of character death.)
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Home: kirabook || AO3 || T || AU || complete
Shinachiku finds himself in a strange place with little to no explanation. Everyone he knows is there, but why are they acting so strangely? Why do they seem so different? And where is his home?
(Cute and heartwrenching at the same time. Cameo Stalker. Read this for NS family feels pre-marriage.)
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Things we never say: thekatthatbarks || AO3 || T || oneshot
She wished she knew how to hold things lightly. There were some things she was terrified of breaking. Whether it be from an honest misstep or simply because she could.
(Reminds you why we love NS so much.)
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Open seasons: sazzafraz || AO3 || T || SNS || postwar || oneshot
The way Sasuke comes home is less myth and more devastatingly embarrassing happenstance.
(Featuring badass!Sakura, obedient!Naruto and normal!Sasuke, as well as Sakura's commentary on her life)
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Five things Sakura will never tell Naruto: sowell || AO3 || T || AU || oneshot
Kunoichi know how to keep their secrets.
(NS relationship analysis story.)
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Artistic purposes: StormyInk || AO3 || M || AU || Oneshot
Sai finds his favorite drawing subjects a bit lacking of late, and he sets a plan into motion to draw his team mates together. Simply for the sake of his art, of course.
(Aka Sai is fed up from seeing his teammates dancing around each other and decides to help them get laid–the story. You gotta admit Sai is the best wingman.)
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I collect my tears (so I can drown you in them): amako || AO3 || T || AU || complete
The hardest thing is letting go. Or Sakura sees Naruto falling in love with Shikamaru a little more every day, and she does the only thing she can think of. Then it's only a matter of learning how to stop loving Naruto.
(Sakura and Angst that has nothing to do with Sasuke. Featuring Sakura-sensei. And Shikamaru. It's a great story if you know when to let go of canon)
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Stranger than the wild: kiddattwell || AO3 || M || SNS || postwar || Ongoing
The war is over and Sasuke is home for good, but Sakura can't choose between the boys she loves. Sasuke still has his demons and Naruto still fights them and Sakura still follows them both, but this time down a path that none of them expected.
(This is canon. It is the best SNS story I've ever read. Story told in SNS POV in rotation. Slow burn, pining and relationship complication. YOU GOTTA READ THIS, I INSIST!!!! Also features SaiIno and InoShika.)
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Bringing Back Sasuke: Blue Jeans || ff.net || T || post war || oneshot
Naruto brings Sasuke back to Sakura. Many, many times over. Sasuke does not appreciate; not the blood and definitely not the angst.
(I've read this story multiple times and it gets funnier and makes your heart hurt and swell simultaneously each time. NaruSaku wouldn't be blissfully happy together without Sasuke thrown somewhere in the mix, that's exactly why I love SNS. This story perfectly represents the dynamic of team 7.)
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Yurei: Kanji no Sakka || ff.net || T || AU || oneshot
The past should stay dead and buried, but it won't if Naruto can't let go.
(Not exactly my favourite story, but I liked the concept. We all know how stubborn Naruto is once decides on something. If he wants to become Hokage, he will become Hokage. If he believes in Sasuke, he will believe in him forever. If he loves Sakura, he will marry her – uh, or should have, very OCC of him that he didn't.)
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Tag NS fan you know so they don't miss any of this!
I ship Carmuel… and idk if it’s bc I’m little older now and more mature… but I understand why she left. I feel like they need to grow apart in order to grow together. They both need to heal from the stuff they experienced in the previous seasons. She especially needs to heal from Polo and the shit that her parents put her through. She needs to love herself before she lets Samuel in. Who knows? If they end up together in the future, then they end up together. But I’m not mad about them breaking up.
In the eve before the end, Mikasa has a strange vision.
Ao3
The noise of the barracks would drive her insane. Metal on metal, rattling every couple of seconds alongside the steady trembling of the soil beneath their feet. Mikasa turned to face the wall, shutting her eyes to find solace, to no avail. No matter how tightly she closed her eyes, no matter how many pillows she put against her ears, the passing of the colossal titans was not something that could easily be ignored.
It shook the ground, it resonated in her soul. Amidst the noise of the end of the world, Mikasa could almost hear the voices of the innocent women and children beyond the sea, oblivious to the destruction to come their way.
Her head started thumping in that familiar pain, one she knew. Tears filled her eyes, but this was no time to cry. Not when Hange would come get her at any moment. They had said they would appear a little after one thirty, but there was still a couple of hours for the clock to reach one, and sleep would not come.
Her head gave another thump, and Mikasa pressed both hands against her forehead. If her eyes were open, her senses focused on the grim shadows marching outside, towards the world. If her eyes were shut, her head thumped, as if her body was forcing her to look at what she had caused.
She would give anything to have a moment of respite, she thought as she pressed both palms to her forehead. Just one moment of peace, that’s all she asked for…
“These will be good for you three. It was a good order you made,” a woman was saying. “I’m just glad I caught you when you returned.”
Mikasa opened her eyes and encountered a withered, kind face standing in an empty hallway in front of her. She looked behind her shoulder and encountered a tidy looking room, with large windows facing a city.
On the balcony, a tall man, with long, light brown hair and an elegant stride cleaned the windows.
“Miss Mikasa?”
“Yes?” Mikasa said, turning to the woman and realizing she was holding a bag of ripe pears for her. “Oh, how much do I owe you?”
“Darling, he paid for them in advance this morning. Remember?”
Mikasa turned to look over her shoulder again. He was familiar, the tall man. Where had she seen him before?
“Ah, to be young again,” the woman said as she put the bag in her hands. “Take your pears, go enjoy your husband. I’ll see you and your family this Sunday,”
“Husband?” Mikasa asked, whirling to look at the woman, realizing she was already halfway down the hall. She brought her right hand up to her chest and found no ring. Perhaps she had misheard, and this was all a fever dream, and the man on the balcony hadn’t just given her a wink from where he stood.
Mikasa walked in the kitchen by muscle memory and went to store the fresh pairs in their pantry; her body knew the apartment as well as she knew her own name: the wide windows, the ceramic tiles on the kitchen, the familiar scents of spices and glow leaking through the window.
She closed the pantry and walked towards the hallway. Just a moment ago, she’d been lying in the barracks, trying to ignore the end of the world happening just outside their rooms.
Mikasa caught a glimpse of her reflection on the mirror and froze again; last time she’d had her eyes open, her hair had been styled in a pixie cut, short enough to resemble a man’s haircut. The Mikasa staring back at her had her hair down to her shoulders, shiny and black as night itself.
Also, the Mikasa staring back at her was older. Not old by any means, but she was definitely not nineteen anymore.
“A dream,” she whispered to herself.
But the scent from the pears and recently baked bread was too strong, the sunlight coming from the windows had warmed her skin… and the tune the man in the balcony was whistling was clear in her ears.
Her feet took her back to the living room. Outside, the tall man with the light brown hair was sweeping the balcony. Even from afar she could see how the muscles of his back and arms strained against his shirt.
But what drew her attention the most wasn’t the man, at least not at first.
It was the moving bundle in the crib by the window.
“It can’t be,” she muttered, taking uncertain steps towards the crib. She peeked into it, and the sweetness that filled her heart when those hazel eyes stared back at her was unlike anything she’d ever felt.
The baby moved their tiny feet and arms when she came into focus, almost as if wanting to lift their body up at her. They smiled a toothless grin and made sweet noises that seemed almost like a beckoning call.
“Hey,” Mikasa said, and took a hold of the child automatically. She lifted the baby and brought it against her chest, surprising herself from how perfect they felt in her arms. “Why are you being so loud, huh? Where’s your momma?”
“Ma…ma,” the baby cooed, giving her a toothless smile.
“Yes, mama,” Mikasa agreed, sitting on the sofa by the window and lifting the baby in front of her. “Where’s mama?”
“Ma…ma,” the baby laughed, flailing their little arms at her, kicking with their tiny legs. “Mama!”
“You’re silly,” Mikasa laughed, catching herself off guard.
The muscles in her face relaxed in shock, and Mikasa wondered the last time she had smiled so sincerely. Less than an hour ago, the thought of laughing so easily would’ve seemed obscene. How could she smile, with so many awful things happening? Thousands of children were about to perish because of her, and there she was, smiling as if she lived in a peaceful, beautiful world.
The baby mimicked her expression and, almost as if they were connected, their eyes filled with tears, and their laughter started to turn slowly into whimpers.
“No, no,” Mikasa said. Again, her body acted on its own, and she moved her arms up and down steadily, trying to appease the baby. “Come on, you were smiling a second ago,”
The baby whimpered some more and crumpled up their tiny face, about to burst into tears. Mikasa looked out the balcony, noticing the man had started to serve two glasses of wine on a table.
“Baby, please. Don’t cry. Look, your papa is gonna be mad,” She said. An idea came to her mind then, a thought that came from a distant memory from her childhood. “You’re lucky nobody else is around, baby.”
She puffed up her cheeks and exhaled with her tongue out, making a farting noise, and the baby’s big, hazel eyes settled on her. Alright, she had their attention. Mikasa opened her mouth in a perfect O then closed it, puffing up her cheeks while doing the same steady movements with her arms.
“Mama,” the baby cooed.
“Mama, yes,” Mikasa replied, puffing one cheek and then the other, then twisting her face in one of those funny expressions she recalled from her father. It didn’t take long for the baby’s face to acquire the same happy, adorable expression from a moment earlier. “Where’s your mama?”
The baby laughed, loud this time. “Mama,”
“There we go,” Mikasa sighed in relief, bringing the child closer to her chest. “I’m sure mama wouldn’t like seeing you cry, you know,”
“Hey, someone’s awake,” the man said, coming in from the balcony. Mikasa stiffened as he approached them, overcome by a sudden protectiveness for the child in her arms.
His hand settled on top of her head, and he caressed her all the way to her neck, lifting the hairs on her arms. His hands were big, perfect for someone his size. “I take it we’ll handle that bottle later?”
The baby looked up at the man and laughed. “Ma…ma,”
The man sighed, then took quick steps to sit by her side on the sofa. “I swear I’d give my right thumb to hear her say papa at least once,”
Ah, a girl. Mikasa looked at the baby’s hazel eyes, how they shifted between the two, and a strange realization came to her mind. A little girl who had given her the strangest cravings –buttered crab, pickled pumpkins, cantaloupes with cream cheese—, a little girl that had been her first taste of motherly love on the giving end.
“This…is our child,” she whispered breathlessly. “Little Sasha.”
“Of course, she is,” the man replied, leaning forward to kiss her temple.
Mikasa turned to look at his face, her cheeks hot, her breath heavy and quick.
The face she encountered did not surprise her at all. It was a familiar face, one she’d shared struggles, grief and joy with for almost a decade. His features had grown and settled into adulthood, enhancing the hazel in his eyes and the sharp lines in his face.
“Jean?” She mustered, her voice shaky.
“Hey, are you alright?” He cupped her face, and Mikasa closed her eyes at the contact of his skin on hers. She didn’t understand his gesture, his touch, but her body did. Her chest filled with warmth, and her heart swelled with an affection she had never thought she could feel for anyone other than…
“Mika, are you well?”
“Mika?” She replied, balancing her baby with one arm. Nobody had called her that before. Their child leaned against her, setting her chubby little face against her chest, swelling the affection in her heart even more. “Mika, you look…”
“Surprised?”
Jean smiled at her. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head, words stuck in the back of her throat, her eyes watery. Jean’s smile wavered and her heart shrunk in her chest. “Was it the grave?”
“T-the grave?” Mikasa replied, her voice a whisper. There were memories behind a locked door, memories that belonged to the body she was in, this grown body that had experienced much more than she had at nineteen years of age…she didn’t want to see those memories.
“Here,” Jean said, his voice soft and sweet as he went to take the baby from her arms. “I’ll put her to sleep and you are getting a warm bubble bath, gorgeous,”
Mikasa hugged her baby, shaking her head, her protective gesture bringing the smile back to her husband’s face. She took a long, shaky breath, trying to understand the information her mind had just thrown her way. Her husband. Jean was…her husband, the man she had a child with.
“She might only say mama,” Jean said, sticking out his tongue and wiggling his fingers in front of their baby girl. He gave her a fleeting look, his smile sincere, showing nothing but boundless love. “But I’m the best at making her laugh,”
He was right in that regard, Mikasa thought hazily. Another wiggle of his fingers, and their little girl was laughing out loud, her innocent voice quenching the panic in her heart. She looked at her now-husband making faces at their child, how their baby laughed with him, showing the little dimples on either of her chubby cheeks, and her eyes filled with tears again.
What was this feeling? The warmth in her chest, she’d never experienced that. No matter how she hard she searched in her memories, she couldn’t think of one occasion in which her heart had felt so light, when happiness had been so undeniable, so unbreakable.
Mikasa kissed her baby’s chubby cheek and whimpered.
“Ma…ma, mama,” her baby replied.
“Yes, I’m your mama,” she whispered, unable to hold back the tears.
“Hey,” Jean said, all his senses focused on her again. He slid closer to her on the couch, enveloping her shoulders with his long arms. Mikasa’s body leaned against him by instinct, used to the comfort of his touch.
What happened? Mikasa thought. Five minutes ago, she’d witnessed the beginning of the end of the world. And now…she was sitting in the most comfortable sofa she’d ever been in, with a bustling, modern city outside their window, with Jean Kirstein by her side.
Jean Kirstein was her husband and the father of her child.
“I know it’s a hard day for you,” Jean whispered, stroking her hair with movements so soft and kind it was hard to picture him as the soldier he’d been only a few hours ago, before they all went to their barracks to sleep. “But I’m here, okay? I’m not going away.”
“Jean, I don’t know what’s going on,” she whispered.
“What do you mean?”
“A minute ago…the pears and you, and…” she looked at her child, her eyes focused on their conversation. Of course, those eyes had come from Jean. She’d never seen another person with eyes as hazel colored as his. “Our baby…Sasha is our baby, isn’t she?”
“She is,” he said. Mikasa turned to look at him, tears spilling down her eyes. Jean furrowed his brow, concerned, and cupped her face. “Honey, you’re worrying me. Mika, come on. Talk to me.”
Mikasa shook her head; he’d seemed so happy before, so immensely happy, the last thing he deserved was her crying in front of him for no reason.
But it wasn’t like she had no reason to cry for. She had no idea where Armin was, where Eren was. As far as she remembered, both Armin and Eren hadn’t had much time left with their titan curse…and how could the city outside be in such a good state, when Eren had sent millions of titans to trample the world? Had the curse ended somehow? Were Eren and Armin living somewhere in that city?
Despite her concern for her friends, the reason for her tears was another. One look into her husband’s worried gaze told her he would understand anything she told him. Even before this strange vision, Jean had a talent to understand others’ concerns. That’s why she’d always thought him a natural leader.
“Is it right, to feel this happy?” she whispered, hugging their baby girl with both arms and kissing the side of her head. “Am I allowed to feel this happy, with everything that’s happened? Jean, can I even—”
Jean’s lips were on hers before she could continue. She had never kissed anyone before, but the body she had been transferred to had kissed Jean before, and kissed him plenty. This Mikasa with long hair knew Jean’s body to his very core.
Her body responded before she could allow herself to protest. Muscle memory was a funny thing, she thought as her lips followed his movements and her mouth parted to allow his tongue inside her.
“Look at me,” he asked, parting from their quick kiss, leaving her with a strange sort of thirst that, much like the happiness and peace in her heart, she had never experienced before. “Mikasa Ackerman, you deserve all the happiness in the world,”
“I do?” Mikasa whispered, then used her hand to cover the baby’s ear that was nearest to her mouth and lowered her voice even more. “Jean, I’m a monster."
“We said you wouldn’t talk about yourself like this. You are not a monster,” he said hoarsely, using one hand to rub her cheek while the other went to stroke their baby’s back. “Look at her. She adores you, Mika. Could someone this cute adore a monster? Not at all, right?”
The smile formed on her lips quickly, and she narrowed her eyes in Jean’s direction in a playful expression this body knew well. “You’re being cute again,”
Jean smiled back at her, looking every bit as handsome as women around her had said he was during their years in the military. “I made you smile, though,”
“You’re good at that,” she said. Her body was more relaxed when he leaned forward again and brushed his lips against hers, and Mikasa allowed herself to revel in the touch of his skin on hers, on how he kissed their baby’s forehead when he parted from her, making her laugh again.
“She adores you too,” she said, handing him their baby so he could hold her in his arms. Jean took their child in his right arm and leaned back against the sofa, his other arm outstretched. He gave his left side a gaze, inviting her without words.
Mikasa hesitated a second, still in disconcert by the sudden change of life she’d experienced. She stared at this older Jean Kirstein holding their child and felt drawn to him. This Mikasa, her very own self, longed to be by his side, to kiss his handsome face, to make their child laugh together.
Their baby –little Sasha Ackerman— wiggled her arms in her direction, as if asking her to join their family embrace. Her heart filled with joy again, and it seemed to beat just a little harder by the sight of the family this Mikasa had built.
Suddenly, the memory of the ground shaking beneath her feet felt distant, years distant. The sorrow, the grief and pain were still there, but they were a mere dull throb, buried under hundreds of layers of memories by Jean’s side, by their daughter’s side.
Jean tickled their baby’s cheek and made her laugh again. How this Mikasa Ackerman had moved on from all that pain and fallen in love with Jean Kirstein, she had no idea. But she wasn’t one to question with such an endearing sight in front of her.
She laid back and cuddled against Jean’s side, smiling at her little daughter, feeling at peace for the first time since she had been that child in that mountain. But this time, it wasn’t her the one receiving her parents’ love.
No, this time, she was the one giving love to a child, alongside a man whose affection seemed as deep and powerful as the ocean itself.
“I just want you to know that you deserve to be happy, okay?” Jean waited for a moment to pass before speaking again, his voice acquiring a strange, concerned pitch. “Are you happy?”
When Mikasa spoke again, she couldn’t tell if it was herself, or an amalgamation of her future self and the person she was now. “I am.”
_______________________________________--
When night came and their child fell asleep, she found herself in his arms. Even if she had wanted to, she would’ve been unable to pull away. She was cobalt, and he was an impossibly huge magnet.
Mikasa blamed his way of kissing; it was hypnotizing, it melted the world outside and left the two in a sphere where there was nothing to do but touch each other until their hands hurt, to kiss until they ran out of breath.
Jean’s touch set ablaze her skin, it left hot trails wherever he kissed and stroked. When he parted her legs to place sweet licks and kisses in between her legs, Mikasa hid her face with both hands, unsure how she was supposed to handle the pleasure coursing through her body.
She could not know whether this vision was reality or just a dream; and, no matter what it was, shouldn’t she be feeling guilty that she was giving so much of her body to another man?
No, he wasn’t just another man. He was Jean, he was her Jean. He was her man, and that was as true inside her mind as the fact that the sky was blue.
The Mikasa from this world, that Mikasa belonged to Jean Kirstein. But her nineteen-year-old self realized she wanted to belong to Jean Kirstein, too, to be his one and only, to share her warmth with him alone. The woman she was now knew the past and accepted it, and she embraced the present with open arms.
Jean’s face buried a little deeper, and Mikasa arched her back, closing her eyes and sinking her nails in her own skin. “It’s okay,” he muttered. Without looking up, his arms found hers and pulled them away from her face to keep her from harming herself in the midst of pleasure. “I’m here, you can come,”
“Come?” she said. Her skin prickled as his fingers stroked the skin of her arms and traveled to cup her breasts briefly. Then, they went back to hold her hands and intertwine his fingers with hers.
“You can be loud,” he whispered, pressing his tongue against that particularly sensitive spot in her womanhood. Mikasa arched her back even further, the pleasure unlike anything she’d felt before. “Be loud, honey,”
“Jean!” she shouted, squeezing his hands with hers as the waves of pleasure increased. “Something’s coming, Jean!”
“Yes,” Jean growled against her skin. “Come for me, Mika,”
She screamed his name and for a moment she feared she would wake their child in the other room. But Jean had assured her it would be fine if she was loud. Even before this vision, she had trusted his judgement and advice and she’d accepted his opinions and thought them as valid as Armin’s or any other superior officer, despite that they’d always stood on equal ground.
Her body went limp soon after the last surges of pleasure finished, leaving her in a state of hazy bliss. The happiness from before and the happiness from now differed greatly, but they brought the same peace to her heart.
The happiness from this afternoon had been sunlight, soft kisses on the cheeks, hugs and laughter.
This happiness was a strange, animal bliss; it made her chest lighter, her head dizzy and her skin prickled. This happiness made her want more, and the source of all that was the man hovering above her, smiling at her as he watched her breathing steady.
“I love you,” Jean whispered, pressing part of his weight on her. Mikasa hugged him by the shoulders, wanting his whole body to envelop her like this.
“I love you too,” she whispered without thinking, unsure why saying those words should make her feel guilty, or ashamed. Again, unsure whether this was fully herself or if it was the long-haired Mikasa talking for her.
“Can I?” he asked in a hoarse voice, pressing his manhood against her core.
She looked at Jean in the eyes, basking in the beautiful hazel canvas, and realized this body loved him as ardently as he loved her. Trying to deny it would be folly, it would be like trying to cover the sun with a thumb. She wanted him, she wanted to feel what this older, more mature Mikasa got to experience every day with this Jean.
“Yes, please,” she replied. Jean put his hand underneath her back to lift her a little, and Mikasa parted her legs. She bit her lips in anticipation, and Jean smirked.
“Excited, huh?” he asked, nuzzling her neck.
“It’s new,”
“What’s new?” Jean asked, kissing the back of her ear.
Mikasa bit her lip more, cursing herself. “I…don’t know,”
Jean stopped kissing her and looked at her in the eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay, Mika?”
She didn’t know how to answer that. Part of her mind was certain she’d gone insane; she’d created a hyper realistic fantasy of a life she would never have, for heaven’s sakes, and with Jean Kirstein, of all people.
Mikasa couldn’t even imagine how embarrassed the real Jean would feel if he knew she was thinking about him this way. Yes, he’d had a childish crush on her years ago, but they were comrades now, friends. She could bet anything he had not once imagined a married life with her, not at this point in their life. And of course he had never imagined them in bed like this.
Jean would think her a freak for picturing another friend in this position.
The other part of her mind, however, wanted to give into the pleasure that his body promised, just as how she had sunk into the sweetness that afternoon. They had made dinner together, then they had played with their child’s wooden toys alongside her before putting her to sleep.
Now, she wanted to make love. She wanted to make a second child. She lifted her head slightly, touching his lips with hers. Mikasa knew this body had kissed her husband thousands of times, but she still felt butterflies in her stomach when she initiated the touch.
“Inside me, Kirstein,” she asked in between strokes of their lips. “I want you inside.”
Without waiting, Jean sunk inside her, and Mikasa’s body parted for him without issues. She welcomed him into her warmth as she had a thousand other occasions since their first night together, which now felt like it had happened decades ago.
“I love you,” she yelped when their bodies were fully connected, hugging him with an eagerness that was unlike her. “Jean, another child. I want another one with you,”
Jean smiled, then moved in and out of her with slow movements. “I want another too,” he admitted, and Mikasa put both hands on his face to feel the sharp lines of his chin. “I love you so much, gorgeous,”
This wasn’t her. Or perhaps it was an amalgamation of the Mikasa lying in the barracks and the Mikasa that was now a mother.
Her pain from the scars of the past hadn’t left her, but this house was her little bubble of happiness, the thing she looked forward to the most each day. The child in the other room was her pride and joy, and the man with her in bed was her forever love, the one that was there to stay.
She hugged her husband, her Jean, and gave herself fully to him, hoping these quiet, peaceful hours could last on forever.
She was lying with her back against his chest, watching the city lights flicker amongst the fog. His chest moved steadily against her back as he breathed in and out, and his breath was warm on her neck. There was a throbbing left by their lovemaking between her legs, but this body was more than used to the sensation.
And Mikasa herself didn’t find it at all displeasing. It was a reminder of what they had done, of how they seemed to have been connected in body and soul.
Whatever this vision was, it was making her forget. The pain was dulled in her heart and the imagery of earlier was barely a blur, a small, dark spot in the middle of a sea of bright, beautiful memories.
The love she had felt for others, for Eren and Armin, was there still, alive in her chest, but now the main objects of her affection were two different people –her husband and child. The priorities in her heart had changed, but that didn’t hurt her, nor did it weigh heavy in her conscience.
“Jean,” she whispered. He pressed his body tighter to her and kissed the curve of her neck.
“Yes?”
Mikasa tilted her head to the side, and Jean plagued her neck with more kisses. “Was this your dream all along?” she asked, her fingers intertwining with his.
“This?”
“A life like this,” Mikasa said, lifting his hand and putting it against her chest. Jean leaned in and kissed her cheek.
“I wanted to be wealthy, live in the inner districts. You remember that, don’t you?”
“I do,” Mikasa said, smiling to herself when recalling Jean’s teenage self. “You were annoying.”
His chest jolted upwards a couple of times. A chuckle, her mind noted. That happened a lot, it added as well. Apparently, she had a sense of humor, and one that made him laugh often.
“Thank you, Ackerman,” he said, kissing her cheek. “I always love your honesty.”
“Answer my question.” she replied, looking at him in the eyes. Jean smiled, then used his strong arms to flip her on her back gently. She laid on her back while looking at him in the eyes, strangely unashamed by the fact that her breasts were out on display in the moonlight.
Jean placed his hand on her navel while he stared at her face. “Yes, I wanted something different, but things changed.”
She recalled Trost, when things had gone awry, the deaths of all their comrades, how their futures had come to an abrupt hall thanks to the claws of death. Amidst all the consequences that had come from the breech of wall Rose, she recalled Jean had been one of those who had been deeply changed by all the carnage.
“When did a life like this become your dream?” she said. Their apartment was fancy and beautiful, the fanciest place she’d ever had to live. But it was no mansion, and it was certainly no luxurious apartment in the inner districts.
In fact, Mikasa realized, she didn’t even know the name of the city they were in.
“My dream isn’t a life like this, Mika,” Jean leaned closer to her, inches away from hers. He cupped her face, then he stroked her cheek with his thumb. “You are my dream, Ackerman. You’ve been my dream for years. If it’s a mansion, or a straw house by the sea, if you are there, that is my dream.”
Tears came to her eyes without warning. When had she ever heard words as beautiful as those? And Jean had said them without any mockery, nor hints of sarcasm. There was no tug of war with him, nothing that made her hesitate his boundless love for her, how much he admired and adored her.
“Jean,” she whispered, reaching out to hold his face with one hand. When she spoke, she knew it wasn’t the older Mikasa speaking. This was her, merging slowly into that version of herself whose heart had learned to heal, to love. “You are my new dream, Jean,”
Her husband smiled, then leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. Mikasa put her arms around his torso and followed the movements of his mouth. His presence was sunlight, the thawing of winter.
This time, Mikasa’s tongue entered his mouth, making him groan in delighted surprise. Jean’s body leaned into hers, and Mikasa welcomed him gladly. She wrapped a leg around his waist, not understanding her desire, but accepting it regardless. It wasn’t only this body that wanted Jean, it was herself. She wanted the happiness that came from being with him, the happiness that came from loving him back fully.
A loud cry from the other room caught her and Jean’s whole attention. He pulled away from her and they exchanged a look before sharing a smile.
“What do you think it is this time?” Jean chuckled, kissing the back of her ear. Mikasa closed her eyes briefly. “Dirty diaper?”
“She’s hungry,” she said a moment later, surprising herself by the mastery of her motherly senses.
“Isn’t she always hungry?” Jean joked.
“She was a big baby, remember?” she said, running her hands over the muscles of his arms. “She’s tall like her dad.”
“I’ll bring her to you,” Jean kissed her for a moment before leaving the bed. He searched the room and, while he found his pants, Mikasa’s eyes wandered inevitably to the muscles on his back and chest.
He was years older from what she remembered, and she had rarely seen him without a shirt on in the past, but the shape of him remained the same, the muscles still perfectly defined. Mikasa put her hands on the belly that her abdomen had turned into, a result of her pregnancy, and her eyes went back to her husband’s body.
“Hey,” he went to kneel by the side of their bed. He took her hands into his and kissed her knuckles before he went to kiss her navel. “I love you. We’ve spoken about this, haven’t we? Your body was and is perfect, alright? You’re gorgeous.”
Mikasa smiled at him. “Did you read my mind?”
“I just know you well by now,” he smirked, then leaned forward to kiss the corner of her mouth. Jean straightened to button up the shirt he’d been wearing that afternoon. Mikasa stared at him, surprised by how mesmerized she was by his body. “You’re staring, Ackerman.”
“Shhhh, Kirstein,” she replied, her cheeks burning red. “G-go get Sasha. She’ll be starving now,”
“I’m surprised she even woke up. We had a long day, and a long hike to the grave,” Jean replied, stretching his arms over his head. “They’re turning that spot into a park at a point. We have to think of a way to hide the stone,”
“We need to take her to Armin,” she said, lifting the blanket to cover her chest. “It’s been eight months and he hasn’t met her yet,”
“He’ll visit us next month, remember?” Jean said from the door. “The international commission needed him in Argyle for the accords renewal. I’m sure he’s bringing a lot of presents. He has to, otherwise we won’t forgive him,”
“Peace commission?” Mikasa said. Jean turned to look at her, arching a concerned eyebrow. Mikasa shook her head, attempting to reduce his worries. “In any case, we need to take her to Eren, too. He’ll want to meet her…and he hasn’t…has he?”
“Mika, honey,” Jean walked back to her, and when he sat in front of her, the cries from her baby became muffled in her ears. “Mika, we went today, remember?”
Mikasa swallowed hard. “Today?”
“To the grave,” he said. Jean held her face with both hands. Everything that wasn’t his face was blurry, but Mikasa could not know if that was because of her tears or her mind. “Mikasa, are you okay?”
“What grave, Jean?”
“Is this you I’m this you I’m talking to?”
“Jean, hold me,” Mikasa whimpered and reached out to hold him, but her arms seemed to have shortened, for no matter how much she wanted to touch Jean’s skin, she simply could not reach him. His face became blurry, and the edges of her vision became black.
No, Mikasa thought. I don’t want to leave.
“Mikasa? Mikasa!” Jean called. “Mikasa!”
__________________________________________
“Mikasa!”
Her eyes and pillow were wet when she opened her eyes, but her sight was clear, her mind was back in place. When she looked at the window, she recognized Hange’s features outside. She blinked and sat up, noticing she was back in the barracks with all the other survivors from the crumbling of the walls. The air wasn’t warm anymore, and the cries from that child had vanished.
“Child?” Mikasa muttered. “What child?”
Where had she gone off to?
“Mikasa!” Hange repeated, their voice insistent, urgent. “Come on, we need to hurry. You’re five minutes late and we still need to get Jean.”
Jean.
Mikasa put her hand against her chest, wondering what that nostalgic feeling meant, why it had awakened with the mention of her companion’s name. She tightened the grip on her skin, unable to think of a logical reason why Jean’s name had brought her so much…
“Mikasa!”
“Coming,” she replied.
None of that mattered right now, not with everything happening around them. She severed the strings tying her to her strange, blurry dream and came off the bed. She would make an effort to remember later on, after stopping Eren’s folly and bringing him back to their side.
“Hurry!”
“I’m coming!”
__________________________________________
Jean and she exited their meeting place with slow, miserable steps. They had a grim task ahead and their determination would not prove enough to carry it out. They were going to face the gods of destruction and their leader, and they were going to be on the opposing side.
“We need to start planning,” Jean said, clearing his throat to hide the hint of fear in his voice. “Are you alright?”
“I’ll be fine,” Mikasa replied. “Do you have anything in mind, for our plans?”
“A couple of things. I’m sure Hange and Armin will chip in with the rest,” he said. Even in the badly lit alleyway, she could see the glint of his hazel eyes focusing on her. “Are you sure you’re fine?”
“I’m fine,” she reassured him, thinking he would not be convinced by her words.
Instead of countering, Jean leaned back against the brick wall and sighed. “It’s times like this I wish I hadn’t given up smoking,”
“You smoke?” Mikasa asked, reluctant to go lean against the wall next to him, more focused on digging through her memories. There was no point to it; it seemed that whatever she had dreamed, it had been flushed away from her memory during their meeting with Hange.
“I used to,” Jean said with a bitter smile. “It was such a short time you barely noticed.”
“It’s good you quit,” Mikasa said, folding her arms. She’d never been good for small talk and, for some reason, her social skills became worse when Jean was involved. Perhaps he was too good at conversation, and she was too terrible. “I don’t like cigarette smoke.”
“I know,” Jean smiled again, this time a bit more amusedly. “I know you don’t like the smell.”
“Are you okay?” Mikasa asked.
“What do you mean?”
“When you came to us…you seemed upset,” Mikasa finished saying, unsure how to explain the expression she’d seen on his face. “Like you’d just lost something,”
“I lost my faith that things could get better,” Jean quipped.
Mikasa dropped her arms at her sides. “Jean,”
He sighed deeply, then combed his hair back in a gesture so utterly familiar that Mikasa had to wonder when and where she’d seen him do that, and why it felt as if she’d seen that movement a million times already.
“I thought I’d seen something,” he admitted, closing his eyes and covering the side of his face that was nearest her. “It turned out my mind was playing tricks on me.”
“You too?” Mikasa asked.
Jean straightened against the wall, his brow furrowing. “Did you see anything?”
She nodded, unsure why her tongue felt like lead in her mouth.
“What did you see?” Jean asked, his voice urgent, desperate to find some sort of meaning to whatever he had seen. “Was it clear? Was it…was it like being there?”
“It was,” Mikasa said, looking away from him.
“What was it?” Jean asked. “Was it Eren? The rumbling?”
“I can’t remember,” Mikasa said, clearing her own throat to drive away the nostalgic feeling that blurry dream brought to her. “It wasn’t the rumbling,”
Jean looked at her for a long time in silence, and something told her he was trying to read her, and he was having a hard time with it. He was good at reading her, that he had proved when they’d been locked underground, when his words had made the dull ache from Eren’s words diminish, but he was not perfect at reading her. At least not yet.
“Yet?” she blurted out, more confused than before.
“Huh?”
She looked back at him, setting her attention on the hazel of his eyes. The color reminded her of something, of someone of extreme importance that hadn’t come to be. Mikasa took a hesitant step in his direction, then another. “Jean—”
“It’s dangerous to be standing out in the open,” Hange’s voice hissed from behind the half-opened door. “Disperse, and stop risking the operation!”
They exchanged another look, now both fully focused on the task ahead. There was no time to exchange vision stories, no time to find sense to what had happened. “He played with the paths, when he undid the walls,” Mikasa whispered as they advanced hidden in the shadows. “Maybe that made us see funny things.”
“Smart. Yeah, maybe that’s what happened,” Jean said with a shrug, burying his hands in his pockets. “I wonder what the others saw.”
“Others?”
“Yeah, Connie and Armin,”
Mikasa frowned. For some reason, she had just assumed it had just been her and Jean the ones to have visions. “Was yours nice?”
“It was…wonderful,” Jean admitted, exhaling and pointedly looking away from her. “And yours? Can you remember anything about it?”
A tiny smile formed in her lips. She looked away from Jean, although she was sure he had noticed the blush on her cheeks. And while she knew he would think it was a vision of Eren and Armin, Mikasa herself couldn’t understand why she was smiling the way she was.
“I can’t remember a thing,” she said, giving him a brief, sideways glance. “But it was a beautiful dream.”
I ship Carmuel… and idk if it’s bc I’m little older now and more mature… but I understand why she left. I feel like they need to grow apart in order to grow together. They both need to heal from the stuff they experienced in the previous seasons. She especially needs to heal from Polo and the shit that her parents put her through. She needs to love herself before she lets Samuel in. Who knows? If they end up together in the future, then they end up together. But I’m not mad about them breaking up.
I’m sorry but I ship malina more than darklina. I mean c’mon “you’re my true north.” STOOOP He’s so adorable in the show. Also, the way that mal fulfilled his promise of coming back to her. He literally went through hell and back just to be with her!!!
Here is my list of the top greatest movies of all time, in no particular order. These are some of my favorite movies and some of the greatest movies (in my opinion) that you should see before you die :)
HAHHAHA (POST SEASON 3) I mean... I was kind of right 💀 Basically everyone was incest. I deadass had to draw a family tree once the “origin” was revealed.
andulkaphoto
vaporwave
janainaart
izzy806
theartofmadeline
kaledo-art
ellievsbear
baratheonpilled
jacobvanloon
turnnoffyourmind
