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irndad · 1 year

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in every other life- s.r.

a/n: my soul is in this mf fic. there's a lil sexual tension lol! this is a behemoth of pining. so much fucking pining. this guy needs you like air wtf!! ALSO the poem is from a book, the lover's dictionary by david levithan. summary: the love of spencer's life is also his best friend, and she goes on a few dates. he does not handle it well, internally. ft. metaphysics by our dear genius boy. wc: 3.3k (holy shit)

While he recognizes that no direct injustice has actually been done to him, he can’t help but feel that it’s so unfair.

Because Spencer had never actually wanted much of anyone, actually. He was too much of a child through his entire education, and he’d found anyone that he’d even consider had almost instantly had dismissed him. He’d grown used to a life where companionship wasn’t a desire that crossed his mind.

But he wanted her.

His lovely friend, his coworker, who was the kind of lovely that it feels unfair you’d ever have to take your eyes off of. She’s the best person he’s ever met, the sort of wonderful you read about but never convince yourself you’ll ever see. He knows the shape of her, has her form memorized from watching, waiting for her to step into the office every day.

It was only a matter of time until he wasn’t the only one with his eye on her.

She’s actually absurdly easy to want. There’s nights where they watch something, often what he picked, Doctor Who or some other science fiction which would be great if he could focus on anything but her. Her warm disposition ruminating his too-small apartment with a kind of light that follows his every movement. He’d adore her even if she wasn’t, but it’s impossible to ignore how beautiful she is- the kind of pretty that you hardly expect to see in real life.

“Hey you,” her so-sweet voice is what breaks him out of his daydreaming, and he looks up at her lovely face smiling down at him. Fondness seeps through her tone, and it’s everything he can do not to preen that her first thought at seeing him is one of pleasure.

“Hey back,” he says, greeting her with a warm grin of his own. “How was your weekend?”

It’s a calculated question.

She had canceled their weekly movie night. He’d tried not to look too disappointed, like the idea of her next to him on his couch, of her nimble fingers raking through his unkempt hair while something nice, but far less wonderful than his company played in the background wasn’t all that was keeping him going. These days, and he knows it’s likely delusion, that she sometimes seems to gaze back at him with a similar sort of desperation, hooded eyes and tenderness.

It’s a liminal space, those nights. How can people be two things at once? You cannot be both in love and not. In the low-light of his place, under his blanket- it’s like Schrodinger’s experiment. She can’t love him like a friend and more at the same time- it resists the laws of physics. She is his best friend, a fact he knows as sure as gravity and the elements, and believing anymore than that- it’s asserting an impossibility.

When they’re alone together, though. It seems like the impossible exists.

But she’d canceled it, something she hadn’t done for the months they’d been engaging in their little tradition. So there had to be a reason. She sits next to him, her desk next to his.

She looks a little disheveled, only in an adorable way- but a little like she’s been busy, like her flow is disrupted.

“It was good! I finally went out with that guy Penelope’s been begging me to let her set me up with.”

It’s all that he can do not to freeze up.

Penelope has been trying to get her to go out with her friend Ben, which Spencer thinks is a stupid name, by the way, and secretly he’d been so, so pleased when she had brushed off the invite. It’s a dangerous thing, hope. He tries not to have too much of it, tries to savor the thought of her, of more for moments of particular vulnerability. It’s treacherous, to want her the way he does. He knows he can’t let himself feel it all the way.

And logistically- romance is not a reason for a valid reason for him to be panicking the way he is, but all he can think about is the physics. Two opposite things cannot be true at the same time.

“You know, studies suggest that even now, the majority of couples are meeting in person or through friends over any other medium.”

It hurts to say. She’s part of a couple, one half a whole that he doesn’t complete.

“Seriously? I’d have thought it’d changed by now. I guess it’s safer to date someone you know.”

She’d date someone she knew? Is that what she prefers?

“How did it go?” He hears Emily ask, and this conversation is already the bane of his existence.

“Guys, it really wasn’t a big deal! We got dinner, it was just a little thing.”

Spencer isn’t experienced in dating, but he does know that dinner is a serious date. Coffee is a smaller thing, but dinner-

Dinner means she got pretty for him. Probably picked out a dress for the evening, spent time on a carefully manicured look. Spent hours of her precious, rare, time on him.

It’s not fair how much he fucking hates this guy.

“Dinner is not nothing!” Penelope squeals, and he would love to share in her excitement, except it kind of feels like a piece of his heart is being shredded.

“Dinner means coming up to my place, have coffee, oh look who doesn’t have her hair done-“

Please kill me, he thinks. Please.

“Oh, that definitely did not happen.”

Thank god.

Except he can’t miss her flush, how her expression shifts- and he has the sickening feeling he’d be hearing that guy’s name again.

When they all settle around the table, her doe eyes focused on gruesome images that were the exact antithesis of her spirit, he couldn’t help but feel that even if it hurt, there was finality.

The cat was out of the box. Two things cannot be true at once, and so only one is- she does not love him, at least not the way he does.

Ben, is not in fact, going away.

If he had more willpower or self-preservation, Spencer would keep his distance from her, but the truth of it is that as much as he wants to be the person she turns to, her smile is most of why he can stand his job anymore.

It’s a Tuesday, and everyone is grumbling about being pulled in early in the morning, but he’s just happy to have a reason to leave the house.

“Spence!” He hears her excited voice carry, the pretty sound picking his ears up at once. “I got you coffee. It’s hazelnut, and it’s like, 90% sugar. You’re gonna love it.”

She beams at him, and he takes it in his hands. Their hands brush, and he tries so hard not to notice how soft her hands are. Her name is on the cup, and an unconsenting fantasy of her name meaning that he’s hers creeps into his mind before he can bat it away.

But her cup says Ben.

“Thanks,” he says her name, tries to sound measured and friendly. “Coffee date?”

She preens, and god, if this guy doesn’t get how lucky he is it might be thing thing that actually sends him over the edge after all these years.

“Just a quick thing, we were just in the same place and he bought me a coffee, I’d already gotten yours.”

If there’s two roles he can fill and he doesn’t get to pick, if he’s stuck with friends, he’s gonna be great at it, and he’s gonna be grateful. Because knowing her is a grace in itself, the kind of thing you should could yourself so lucky to have.

“He sounds like a great guy,” he hears himself say, “I’m glad you’re doing this.”

It’s the right thing to say. He’s sure of it. The thing he’s not sure of is why the smile she offers him doesn’t reach her eyes.

The next time he notices the cracks in their relationship, it’s when they’re out. She’d suggested this bookstore-cafe kind of thing, and he’d jumped at the thought, all of his favorite things in one afternoon. He’d felt foolish spending so much time picking out his outfit out, wearing the blazer she’d once complimented-he’d actually stuttered so hard in thanks that Morgan laughed for a full minute when she left the room- but she always looked beautiful, and he knows he sometimes pales in comparison.

“Oh, I love this one!” She thumbs over the spine of a thin book of poetry. She’s wearing a forest green sweater that hugs her frame, and a bracelet hangs on her delicate wrist. He loves looking at her, though he tries to conceal it. His goal of being a supportive friend includes trying not to make it that known how gone for her he is.

“I don’t read too much poetry,” he admits, “But I’m sure you have excellent taste.”

Her keen eyes skim through the pages intently, clearly seeking out a specific passage before stopping, gaze alight with recognition.

Her tone is molasses-sweet when she begins reading, and his heart skips a beat.

“When I say be my lover,” her voice hitches, reverent of the quote and he is reverent of her, “ I don’t mean ‘let’s have an affair. I don’t mean Sleep with me. I don’t mean Be my secret. I want us to go back to that root. I want you to be the one who loves me. I want to be the one who loves you.”

It feels impossible to look away from her, doe eyes practically sparkling in the low light of the shop, and there it is. His heart’s in his throat. Of all the things you could have told Spencer he’d experience, hearing her lovely voice wrap around the words be my lover in hushed tone, in sacred sweetness, would never ever be one he’d guess.

He’s not sure how he feels about the multiverse theory, but right now, he can feel all the versions of himself pressing right up against him. Can see into lives he doesn’t get to live, lifetimes where his love isn’t a buried, worn-out tattered thing to keep his ever-frigid chest warm. Versions of himself that in this very moment can smile back at her, warm and open and kind, and kiss her perfect smile.

Because he would be her lover. He would come home to her, spend the rest of his life building a home that she could fit into. It’d be easy, actually. She’s easy to imagine- nights of laughing in a shared kitchen, evenings where her company is a fine wine, sipped at leisure with the comfort of knowing it’s never going to slip from your grasp.

“I like that,” he says, voice too vulnerable for his own good, eyes unable to tear from the eye contact. “I really like that.”

In the root of it, he already is her lover. He is the one who loves her. She’s just not his.

It comes to a head on a Friday. It’s a few weeks from he book shop, and the air feels heavier between them now. The last handful of Fridays he’s sat with the ghost of what used to be their plans, empty time lingering where in its’ place used to be her company.

He doesn’t know if she’s been with Ben. He tries not to think about it.

The sound of her voice lingers in his mind, sweet and bitter in his mind like old lemon candy, the kind his mother would save for special occasions. He’d spend any amount of money he had to hear her lovely voice say those words to him out of the context of a poem.

At work, they seem almost normal. Like one of them wasn’t desperately in love with the other; like a genius and his lovely, incredibly empathetic, kind best friend. In the field, their actions flow together seamlessly. She is always the first to listen and to understand (and god, isn’t it intoxicating to have someone meet you in understanding) and there is nothing to suspect is off.

But there’s still a cloud lingering. The poem- the soft melody of her voice curling around the words, the request of it all, the way she had sounded so wanting- and then, there’s Ben.

She doesn’t mention Ben to him, of course, but Penelope does. Penelope, all bows and bright colors and cheeriness keeps bringing the absolute worst news to Spencer with a smile on her face.

He’s taking her out for drinks! Oh, he’s reading her favorite book, do you know what it is?

This anger isn’t an emotion that he’s familiar with. A roar of possessiveness, the bite of it not tempered at all by rationality. Has he touched her?

It seems almost a tradition at this point when she shakes him out of his jealous storm of thought.

“Spence?” she muses, “You alright?” They’re alone at his desk, everyone having fled for their own evening and weekend plans. This was one of the Fridays that she had agreed to spend with him, and he wonders if he’ll be able to handle the scent of her shampoo so close after such a lapse of the sensation. Will all of his judgement go where he can’t follow?

“Yeah,” he says, tucking his papers into his bag, “I’m excited for tonight.”

His place is actually a short walk from the office. He’d been embarrassed to show her the place at first. It’s all function over fashion, and a bit cramped, but she’d looked at as though it was made of something more, something good. She didn’t even tease him. It had actually been her idea, to start these movie nights.

Ironic, really.

The walk was pleasant, the weather a little frigid but still nice, and she looks beautiful under the setting sun. It’s incredible to him, how her lashes catch the light and make her irises look like polished stained glass. His favorite color. Through the looking glass of another life, he sees a version of himself that gathers her up in his arms. In this daydream, she grants him one of her smiles that seems to carry its’ own light, and leans into his body like it’s the only thing that keeps her steady. It’s so clear. On the other side of the veil, he kisses her reddening nose, and keeps her warm himself.

In the here and now, Her coat is long, and hangs low by her ankles. It’s an elegant thing, like the woman who wears it, and Spencer would be grateful for a lifetime of just looking.They stop in front of his door, some invisible force stopping him from entering.

She sheds the coat inside his home. It smells like the candle she got him for his birthday, a reminder of her grace. He’s saved a bottle of wine for them, a sweet thing for the sweetest thing he’s known.

“I’m sorry,” she speaks the warmth of the beverage on her tongue, and it should feel abrupt but it doesn’t.

“What for?” He can’t imagine what she would have to apologize for.

“I know things have been…off between us,” she says carefully, considering the phrasing of each word. He watches her with a reverence, his hazel eye brimming with affection with nowhere to go. “You’ve been so great through it.”

Her legs are thrown across his own, and she’s dangerously close to sitting in his lap, but not exactly. He’s missed having her this close, the last time she’d been in his orbit was before she’d had reason to be gone. She smells floral. He fights With limited filtering through his already treacherous mind he thinks, He can’t take this from me. I still get her like this.

“I’m not entirely sure what it is.”

She slowly shuts her eyes, go for a moment to somewhere he can’t follow. Her cheeks are rosy from the cold.

“This whole Ben thing.”

“Oh.”

Logically, it always had to come back to this. Someone else had the good fortune to know her like this, to be the person she reads poetry to in deep meaning to.

He’s been stealing moments from someone who’s not his to take them from.

“I don’t even know how I wanted you to react.” she murmurs, staring at the rim of her glass.

“I just want you to be happy” His voice is something low, grit in the sound of it. His hand rests on her thigh. There’s warmth blanketing the room and he wants to kiss her. He wants to kiss her all the time.

She laughs, but it’s not her normal laugh. It’s tinny and a little bitter. He pushes his luck, and reaches out to brush the side of her face, moving the hair but still holding her face. Her breath smells like strawberry wine and temptation.

It feels different tonight. Low light and tension that could be sliced with wire. Every part of her is in reach, and something in the air makes all of this talk of relativity, of physics, moot.

Like maybe he’s not in the only world they don’t end up together.

Her face is warm and soft under his touch and he loves the sight of her. He’s never touched her like this. Every point of contact feels electric, addicting.

“What is it? The Ben thing?” He doesn’t know what he’s expecting to hear. What he wants, is for her to tell him that it doesn’t matter anymore, that she picks him-

“I only went out with him the once.”

“What?”

“I told Penelope I was still going because it made her happy and she said I couldn’t keep going to your apartment and reading you poetry and call that romance.”

Romance?

Wasn’t it romance, though?

Her eyes widen in something akin to horror.

“Shit, Spence- I’m sorry, that is so fucked of me to say-“

“You,” he tries to say calmly, “aren’t going out with Ben.”

She blinks.

“No?”

He has spent so much time living in other lives, existing in the minds of versions of himself he wasn’t lucky enough to be. Drinking coffee imagine a life colored in her presence, falling asleep yearning for the presence of something lighter than what he has to carry.

He can’t exist in two places. That was the entire basis of the experiment.

He moves his other hand to hold hers, and somehow she’s shifted to being on top of him, and he looks up at her with unwavering desire.

Spencer isn’t good at wanting people, but it comes naturally with her. Less of an action and more an urge, a course of motion to which he is at the mercy of. This is what leads him to close the gap between them, and kiss her. It’s

Her delicate fingers run through his hair, and she can’t be close enough, please, and he could spend the rest of his life kissing her, actually. He probably will spend the rest of his life thinking about the soft sigh he pulls out of her.

“I want it to be me,” he manages to say through shallow breath, still so close that his lips brush hers every other word, “I want to be the one you pick. I want it to be me.” His hazel eyes seem to shift in the moment, swirling with emotion.

She brushes a lock of his overgrown hair out of his face. He normally shaves when he sees her, but he’d been so busy that he’d forgotten, and felt embarrassed of it now. That is, until she runs her index finger along the edge of his jawline.

It’s then she leans down and kisses him again, pliant and good, his hands around her waist. He breathes a prayer into her mouth, one that hopes that she never ever comes to her senses about him.

“Spence,” she says, her voice golden silk, a kindness. “There was never anyone else to pick.”

#spencer reid #spencer Reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic

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fanaticsnail · 4 months

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Snail important question;

Of any line-up of characters of your choice-

Who do you think is attracted to competency,

Who is attracted to stupidity,

Who can go either way,

And who is attracted to both at the same time (imagine;

Reader: sorry I'm late I had to fight off two different ships

Them: is that how you got that bruise on your face?

Reader: oh... Actually, I wasn't looking and pulled a push door off its' hinges into my face

Them, kicking off their pants: god you're so fucking stupid, sit on my face

)

Also, I feel like there are different versions of competency and stupidity. Street smarts vs social obliviousness. Book smarts vs functionally illiterate. Strategic/battle smarts vs what-do-you-mean-flashing-the-enemy-isn't-a-valid-distraction?

(Zoro is completely math smart and dumb in every other way)

I could imagine Luffy would be attracted to hyper specific competency. If you're really into a specific thing and good at it and it's your dream he would absolutely love it even if it sounds like you're speaking gibberish to him. He wouldn't even think of it as weird - I mean, no more weird than any other dream he doesn't personally understand - he's certainly not the type to judge based on societal norms. You could talk his ear off about the reproductive habits of different animals and he wouldn't get why everyone else doesn't like to hear it when they're eating but hey more food for him.

Snail. Your asks always know how to get the better of me. Have a series of little drabbles, dear.

Competency, Stupidity, Duality

Masterlist here

Word Count: 410+, 510+, 580+

Synopsis: They can't help what attracted them to you. No matter what you did, they simply couldn't get enough of you. Their emotions finally catch up with them, and they confess their adoration for you.

Themes: variety x gn!reader, feelings, injury, mentions of battles, finally giving in, all different 'reader' inserts, confessions of love, kid x reader, zoro x reader, killer x reader, angst, fluff, sweetness.

Notes: I wasn't expecting to write this today, but I've been thinking about the big boys lately and I needed to give them some love. Something about trios lately.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training

Competency: Eustass Kid

When Eustass Kid noticed how quick and sharp you were to react in life or death circumstances, he was immediately smitten with you. Being a Straw-Hat, your ambitions and dreams were fostered by your playful captain as you sailed aboard the Thousand Sunny. Your ability to interact flawlessly by balancing the combined efforts of the three crews had him intrigued by your charisma.

Fighting by your side was something he didn’t expect to affect him so much. The way you researched the strengths and weaknesses of all three crews sailing and fighting together was admirable. Asserting yourself by asking Law to push and pull you closer to the fight with the Ope-Ope no Mi ability, while fighting side-by-side with Massacre Soldier Killer in close quarters, had him left wordless.

After the battle finishes, he watched as you hastily aided your crew of their injuries while disregarding your own; putting others first while adding pressure to your hand-gash, hovering it over your head to slow the bleeding. He couldn’t get enough of you.

He needed you to know how he felt about you, but being in the presence of Luffy and Law always seemed to bring out the more juvenile side of attitude. His simple attraction and infatuation with you had to be revealed to you in due time, but he couldn’t risk sounding like an idiot in front of you. He would have to simply wait until you were alone and unoccupied before he made his move to take care of you after taking care of others.

Slowly approaching you as you sat down against the tangerine grove aboard the Thousand Sunny, his shadow shrouded your form and prompted you to gaze up into his scarred, sheepish face. Your smile caused his heart to beat harder and his head to swirl with a variety of "what-ifs". Gulping back his insecurities, he knelt down in front of you.

“Let me take care of that for you,” he offered with a soft smirk, “You’ve done so much for others, and I think your hand needs some seeing to.”

“If you say so, Captain Kid,” you shrug, offering your injured hand delicately to him and listening to his every instruction as he treats you, “I wasn’t aware you had any medical training.” He straps your hand in a bandage, placing down the final ties before holding your injured hand in his.

“I don’t,” he shrugged with a smile atop his painted lips, “But I’ve lost an arm before, and I don’t want to see that happen to you.”

“You’re-...” he stuttered over his words, gazing at your hand before softly drifting his tired eyes up, “...-You amaze me. Truly, amaze me.” You place your other hand on his, never once removing your eyes from his face as he offers you such kindness.

“Thank you, sir,” you nod to him with a soft smile, “You amaze me, too.”

Stupidity: Roronoa Zoro

“Why would you do that?” Zoro roared at you, hovering his body over yours and caging your face-down body within a shield of his own. The gashes on your back were deep, your body weeping out the red essence and staining your clothes with it.

“C-Couldn’t risk yours,” you stuttered out with a soft smile, “H’was gonna g-get yours. Didn’t want you to wear the shame.” His eyes widened, filling with a steam of glossy tears that threatened to spill over the moment you stuttered out your confession. “That’s what you said, wasn’t it? Mark on the back is a swordsman’s greatest shame?”

Drip.

One after one, soft tears spilt down his cheeks and mixed with the fluids pooling at your back. He leaned down towards you, the heat of battle dying down with the swift, flaming kick of the blonde cook and giggling chuckles of your captain, Luffy.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” he sniffed his sobs back as he leaned down to cage you, “Can’t you see? None of that fucking matters without you here.” He softly, tenderly moved you from your position on the floor to not disturb your wounds. He sat you up, cradling you against his broad chest and openly sobbed for you.

“When you get better,” he growled into your shoulder, “I will repay you for this. I will pay my debt to you.” His sobs got more desperate, not halting in the slightest when Trafalgar D Water-Law approached the two of you in your embrace.

“Let me get ‘em to the infirmary,” Law offered, gesturing for Bepo to ready the aid kit, “I’ll treat the wounds there-.”

“-I won’t leave them,” Zoro barked over your shoulder, your soft smile tugging at your cheeks in your hazy daze. “Let me go with you, Traffy. I won’t say a damn word to distract you, on my honor.” Law nods, raising his hand and spreading his fingers and offers the two words to switch positions within the infirmary: “Room, Shambles.”

As you drifted in and out of consciousness, you laughed each time Zoro chastised you for your stupidity. Echos of: “There were so many other things you could’ve done instead,” and “You stumbled into that blade like a moron and took that hit for me, idiot.” You giggled through the pain, barely feeling it as Law worked to stitch you together again.

Upon regaining consciousness, you looked to your moss-haired crewmate and offered out your hand to his bicep. His head was bowed, arms crossed over his chest, and was assumed to be napping by your bedside. Feeling your touch, he was roused from his sleep and immediately leaned forward to bring his face beside yours.

“You’re a fucking moron,” he huffed, smiling in a melancholy grin. You laughed at his insult, squeezing his muscle before retracting your hand. As you nearly drew it away to your side, he caught your hand and brought your palm up to his lips.

“My fucking moron,” he confirmed, placing a soft kiss to your palm before using it to cup his face. “I love you.”

Duality: Massacre Soldier Killer

Staring up into your face while remaining silent, resting his masked face on the heel of his palm, he listened to your recount of a very specific childhood injury that left you with an interesting scar on your thigh. Killer’s eyes never left your face, his cheeks beginning to glow warm and vibrant beneath the shroud of his mask.

“So, let me get this straight,” Captain Eustass Kid held his hand in front of his face and gave it a gentle wave to halt your words, “That sick-looking scar wasn’t from any time you served with Luffy, but because you set off a fucking harpoon and speared yourself in the leg with it?”

Killer felt himself swoon at the melody your laugh thrust into the atmosphere. He was ever thankful his blue and white mask disguised how much he was smiling beneath the shroud.

“Yep,” you popped the ‘P’ afterwards, nodding in confirmation as you sat beside Usopp and drew your tankard up to your lips, “But I learnt from it, and it hasn’t happened since.” Killer sighed, his voice almost coming out in a soft moan to reveal his growing infatuation for you. Kid barked out a harsh gaggle of laughter, clapping you on the shoulder with his right hand and gestured for you to reveal it to them.

“Let me see it again, go on,” he chuckled, removing his hand and sitting back on his seat, “Use Killer’s thigh as a prop so we can see it properly. You don’t mind do you, big guy?” Killer absentmindedly and slowly shook his head, tapping his thigh twice with his hand for you to reveal your injury to the captain of the Victoria Punk, himself and your crewmate beside you.

“Alright,” you shrugged, standing beside Usopp and Killer and gently placed your foot atop Killer’s thigh and began hiking up your shorts to your hip, “Feast your eyes, Captain.” Sure enough, an interesting looking scar was revealed on your inner thigh, clear as day and sure as the sea is salty.

“Oh, fucking hells!” Kid gave you a hearty laugh, “You seeing this, big guy?” Kid turned his attention to his first mate, his smile only growing as he noticed the angle of Killer’s mask never left your face. Surprise was immediately thrust into Kid’s eyes, noticing the unwavering resolve in Killer’s posture.

You turned your attention down to the silent and broody first-mate, your face puzzled and eyes searching his mask for any further thought or action. He slowly drew his hands up to clasp around your ankle and calf, holding it firmly as he leaned forward.

“You’re perfect,” he offered in a breathy whisper, stroking your leg and gazing lovingly into your face, “Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”

Your face flushed with a warmth at his words, eyes widening and looking down at his large hands as they held you so tenderly and delicately within his grasp. Smiling, you leaned forwards and placed your hand over his scarred left forearm with mischief in your eyes, asking him a simple question with a suggestive tone.

“Like what you see then, big guy?” At your question, Usopp nearly choked on his drink. You had never been this bold before, and this came as a shock to your crew’s skilled sniper. He covered his choking with a soft cough, turning away with a downturned smile and stifling his growing laugh.

“So much,” Killer confirmed, gently caressing your calf and looking up at you through half-hooded blonde lashes beneath his mask, “So, so much.”

#one piece #x reader #roronoa zoro #eustass kid #massacre soldier killer #one piece drabbles #gn!reader #kid x reader #zoro x reader #killer x reader #op drabbles #one piece x reader #op x reader #one piece x you #one piece fluff #ask snail #snail answers

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calliopesdiary · 5 months

Text

“mini-me”

synopsis; your little sister captures the hearts of your boyfriends, you may even say she has a little crush on james.

contents; sexual activity mentioned, fem!reader, reader has a cute lil sister, poly!marauders, james has baby fever, you have baby fever, i have baby fever, everyone has baby fever

warnings; none! just a brief mention of sex but nothing bad (;

a/n; i’ve been daydreaming about this fic for so long

“NESSIE! FINALLY MY BEST FRIEND IS BACK!"

roared a thunderous James Potter who’d spotted your little sister— Vanessa.

Nessie was all over the boys, and they were all over her. she was a first-year hufflepuff and a true sweetheart.

Sirius silently adored how similar you two looked, it was like looking at twins— except one of them happened to be five years older than the other.

He was too afraid and stubborn to admit it, but Nessie gave him a heavy dose of baby fever.

was she a baby? no, not even close. but something about her cheeky smile, the way her robes hung over her like how a child pretending to be an adult’s would, and how her hand (which was considerably smaller than his) slid into yours lovingly at any given time.

maybe it was just that he wanted to see you as a mom, or that he longed for a family that was warm and loving.

“y/n, dear.” Sirius caught your attention quickly, even though you were watching James ramble on to Nessie like it was an oscar award winning film.

“hm—?” you hummed, attempting to pry your eyes away from the sweet scene.

“what do you think i’d-be like?”

“what do i think what would be like?”

“you know, having kids.” he could tell from your flustered expression that to were certainly not expecting that.

“o-oh… w-well…”

luckily the conversation had been interrupted by one Nessie.

Nessie ended her conversation with James, earning a “hey!” when she walked away from him.

“Siri.” she tugged in his sleeve.

“yes, darling?”

she blushed at the pet name, and started twirling her hair.

“um.. will you guys take me to Hogsmeade…?”

“Hogsmeade? Ness, only third years and over can go to Hogsmeade—“

“Professor Mcgonagall said if i went with you then it would be alright!”

She tugged on Sirius’ slightly oversized leather jacket once more, as he stumbles from the unexpected tug.

“whats going on in here— AGH!”

Remus stumbled backwards as Nessie pounced on top of him like some wild animal who was about to feed on him.

“hi— oof— hi Nessie.”

Remus was taken aback by the little first year jumping around in him in a circle chanting;

“i’m going to Hogsmeade!”

“Ness, he gets it.” You groaned from your position on James’ lap.

“Get off!!” Nessie shoved you with all of her pre-puberty force.

“N-Nessie!” you ‘gently’ hit the bedpost as Nessie locked herself onto James.

“What candy is she on? Pixi Stix?”

“Oh, suck my dick, Moony.”

“Gladly—“

“Oi!” Barked James.”

“whats a dick?”

“Nessie—..”

HOGSMEADE was beautiful in summer time.

obviously— it wasn’t summer yet, but with April coming to a close and blossoming like a flower, you could basically say it was summertime.

you walked along with Remus and Sirius, as Nessie was hanging around with James as they skipped ahead down the alleys and walkways of Hogsmeade.

you adored James, and how sweet he was to your sister, she was such a sweet kid and deserved the love.

"James?" Nessie stopped skipping for a moment, keeping a steady walking pace instead.

"Hm?"

"Do you love my sister?"

"I do."

"so why don't you marry her?" Sirius burst into a quiet laughter, and Remus tucked the hysterical boy into his chest.

"i- marry her? i'd love too, but we're a bit young."

“but Snow White was 14 when she got married.”

“Oh.” James was clearly a bit flustered, his cheeks turned to a shade of pink.

Remus watched his lovers interact with Nessie, and it sparked something deep inside him.

Remus (until now) had ruled out a happy ending for himself.

being a lycanthrope, he never wanted to pass that burden to his child. so he couldn’t— no, wouldn’t have kids.

but somehow, someway, as he watched you with your little sister. he realized how badly he wanted you to be a mom.

for the first time, Remus realized that he could live happily.

“Remus? are you alright?” You tapped his shoulder rapidly, and he snapped out of his trance.

“Y-yes, sorry I got distracted.”

“you don’t have to apologize.” you smiled brightly up to him, the smile he was so in love with.

the smile he wanted his kids to have.

you four dropped Nessie off back at her common room, and Sirius immediately sprung onto you, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“Siri?” you asked through soft giggles.

“I can’t wait to have a kid with you.”

#marauders era #fem!reader #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #marauders #poly!marauders x reader #fanfiction #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #james potter x reader'

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arminsumi · 1 year

Text

SAKURA.

𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟 ⋅ fem reader

NOTE: i really liked this idea and merged it with my little daydream of Gojo being in his clan and meeting you in a small village (like before he moved to the city or something) and tweaked it just a lil bit if that's ok!! i hope i delivered, and mwa ty for your request lovely anon i hope i got it all right, enjoyyy 💐

REQUEST: Can you pls write gojo who gets the Hanahaki disease cause of reader and gojos condition worsens so to keep the strongest alive the higher ups set up an arranged marriage with reader (her mission is to love gojo so he doesn’t die but she is defensive and uncooperative at first) but then she warms up to gojo (he does everything to make her happy) and they both live happily ever after 😭💕

SUMMARY — you meet a boy on a Taiko-bashi as a child. Little did you know, he was the prodigal son of the Gojo clan, and you would be married into that family to save his life.

WARNINGS — heavy angst to fluffy fluff, he steals ur first kiss, domestic life with ur kid Megumi at the end <3 😭, unrequited -> requited love, arranged marriage, quite a lot of blood/bloody flower mentions, disease/afflicted with coughing spells (see about the fictional Hanahaki disease here. Basically u cough up flowers and/or throw up full flowers if it gets life-threatening), poor boy almost dies, there’s a scene where it’s insinuated that he throws up a full flower, some teasing/playfulness yk the usual you'd expect from gojo, lmk if i have missed a warning thank u

WORDCOUNT ≈ 4.3k

PLAY ME ♪ bouquet — Ichiko Aoba

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

When you were seven, a boy a few years older than you – perhaps two or three – passed you by on a Taiko-bashi in a small village. You remember him as the boy with peculiar eyes and white hair who looked back at you on the bridge. In your eyes, it was a very ordinary encounter with a very extraordinary looking stranger.

But in his infinitely blue eyes, there was ingrained a more meaningful and vivid memory of that encounter. He held it very close to his heart. When you and he made that brief eye contact as he looked behind his shoulder, slowing at his mother’s side, he felt a windswept, lovestruck feeling come over him. He batted his pretty lashes at you and stopped walking for a fleeting moment, as if captivated, and then went his separate way with the image of your face burned into the forefront of his mind. His kimono fluttered as he tended to walk in a gliding manner.

When you were fourteen, the same encounter happened again. A familiarly pale face with barely grown-in features looked back at you – his whole body felt a twinge of excitement. He only took one small moment to look at you and yet knew you were the same girl he saw as a child on this very same bridge.

Years went by, and the two of you kept encountering each other at peculiar times in your lives at that same bridge. Neither of you spoke to each other once, well, you didn’t say a word – but he uttered a few boyishly desperate greetings and even bowed as he glided past you to try and get your attention. If only you would have stopped for a chat, the poor boy would have given anything for that.

In some way, it felt like the two of you knew each other, though it was only your eyes that ever talked.

Come your eighteenth birthday, you were burdened with awful news. You were to be married to a man you had never met – someone from the Gojo clan. That person was apparently fatally sick with a disease you had scarce knowledge on. You asked your friend at the time, her name you’ve long forgotten by now, about Hanahaki and all she said was;

“Your lover is going to spit flowers in your face.”

You scrunched your nose up in disgust and confusion at this. A very silly image formed in your mind about the disease ever since your old friend had said that – all you could imagine was your future husband spitting saliva-wettened, half-destroyed flowers at your face.

The Gojo family and your family had always distantly known each other, hence all the visits to the village that they resided in. Your marriage to Gojo was long-debated throughout the years – yet neither you nor him knew anything about it. Neither of you prospected marriage, you were just the two strangers that passed each other on the Taiko-bashi every time the Sakura was in bloom.

The first time you and the son of the Gojo clan were introduced, it had already begun with a rocky start. You walked in when he had been overwhelmed with a coughing fit, and you were hushed back outside. The shoji door smacked shut behind you, and you heard sickly coughs piercing through the translucent sheets. When your future husband stopped coughing, and the blood and petals were cleaned up, you were brought back into the room. There were both your families and some important-looking officials in the large room, all formally sat on the tatami mats with mixed expressions. His mother seemed delighted at the sight of your face – but not more than her son.

Gojo Satoru, an eighteen-year-old at the time, with usually such a loud mouth and good joke up his sleeve, was rendered speechless when you had walked into the room. He analysed and absorbed every feature that made up the image of what he thought was the most charming and alluring creature ever to exist. Definitely a creature, he thought as you formally bowed with him, because no human could possess such an ethereal beauty.

Satoru was intrigued by you from your encounter on the Taiko-bashi, but when he was finally introduced to you he was utterly captivated.

The reasons and conditions for your marriage with the Gojo clan’s prodigal son conflicted with your strong beliefs in love and romance. You had rather aggressively told the poor boy your opinions in the days leading up to your wedding.

“I always thought,” you emphasized with a snotty tone, yet he listened to you like one would listen to the tranquil flow of the river under the Taiko-bashi, “that I would marry someone I loved, and not be forced to love…” you seemed so disappointed with how your life was turning out, that he couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for you.

“I’m a positive person, I have faith that you’ll fall in love with me in no time.” He said cheekily and winked at you. You felt very taken aback by such straight-forward flirting – you must understand, no boys in your village ever did that. They were very proper, even reserved.

He was almost charming in that instant, but then he added; “Who wouldn’t fall in love with me?”

At the time he was so full of himself that you could hardly believe there was space for any petals in his body. But there certainly was – when you left him alone in that room and stormed off, appalled by his conceit, he clutched the side of the door frame and coughed up little pink petals – enough to comprise three whole flowers.

It started worrying him, a few days before the wedding, when he started coughing more often. And not just that, but he started coughing up more petals than he had ever in his life. The peculiar disease had started during a time in his childhood that was coincidentally very close to the time he first passed you by on the bridge.

The night before the wedding, he laid in bed and brooded. And he was never the type to brood – he let life happen and moved on relatively easily. But he brooded, and brooded until it felt like he sunk so deep into his futon that he became one with it. The ceiling blurred.

What was going to happen if you didn’t fall in love?

That thought scared him so much that he violently drove it out of his mind and replaced it with an ideal daydream; he envisioned you and him cuddled up, bracing each other’s bodies, and melting into each other like real lovers do. He imagined you would be warmer than him, with that cool touch he had, and you would also stroke his hair. It was very fluffy, he made sure to point that out to you several times – but you never took a hint.

On the day of your wedding, he snuck to meet you just before the ceremony. He was crouched in the garden outside the room that you were preparing in. It’s then when he heard you voice your feelings to whoever it was helping you get ready.

“How can I love a stranger? And anyways, he is so full of himself, I can hardly believe there’s space for any flowers in there. There’s nothing I like about him.”

“Oh, Y/n, you have yet to learn about him. I’m sure you will find he’s rather charming. He is the pride of the Gojo clan, after all – he has the Six Eyes and Limitless. He’s the strongest, he’ll always be able to protect you – ”

It sounded like the woman talking about him was your mother, with how she praised him so much. She was right, Gojo thought; he could protect you from anything.

His expression was grave after hearing your thoughts. But he put on a lightened smile and masked his slight heartbrokenness when the rituals and main ceremony commenced.

It was a very formal, rigid ceremony. Gojo looked up at you sadly a few times, wishing you would spare a glance. He brooded on the idea that you’ll never love him like he loves you, and then a sickening, ticklish feeling spread in his throat and just as the closing ritual ended, he burst into a coughing fit – one of his worst yet. A bit of blood dribbled out his flushed lips, contrasting against his pale skin. Of course you were concerned – and of course you felt the urge to help and comfort him. But those feelings were purely out of the goodness of your heart.

Friends share love. But even when you and Gojo developed something resembling a friendship, it didn’t alleviate his disease. It was embarrassing sometimes, to realize that you were failing at the one thing you had to do; and that was keep him alive.

He was quite genuinely dying for you to love him.

Yet you refused to be in the same room as him for too long. Your mother had to encourage you. Eventually, both his family and your family worked together to make sure you and Gojo spent adequate time with each other. They organized meetups ranging from fancy nights-out to long voyages to weekend sleepovers. It was comical, how your families got along more smoothly than you and Gojo.

It’s the spring of his nineteenth birthday when the thought of kissing you becomes a reality. Well, it doesn’t go as he planned it. See, Gojo envisioned that kissing you would solve all his problems – he thought he could infect you with his love, somehow worm into your heart through a passionate kiss.

So when you and him sat for tea in a spacious room, kneeled side by side on the tatami mats, he went in for a kiss. You were distractedly straightening out your kimono when suddenly a pair of inexperienced, boyish lips crashed onto yours.

“Mmf!” you reacted with sheer shock – why on earth was he kissing you? The audacity, he had just insulted and made a mockery of you with a cheeky, playful attitude.

“Satoru!” you whined into his mouth.

He cupped the back of your neck and partly entangled his hands in your hair. White lashes sat pretty as he closed his eyes and glided his wettened lips over yours. For the briefest moment, you let yourself enjoy his kiss. But suddenly, as if your principles of love kicked back in and stomped on the moment, you shoved him away.

And a hard shove that was, he fell out of balance and landed on the mats with his elbows, a look of shock and surprise twisting into comedy.

“Playing hard to get?” he joked. His heart sunk ever so slightly at your rejection.

“You can’t just kiss a girl!”

“Come on, I’m your husband – if I can’t kiss you, then who is allowed to?” he asked.

You looked furious, like you were about to bite him, so he slowly started backtracking.

“I just wanted to see if kissing you would – ”

“How dare you, that was my first kiss! I thought I would have a cute first kiss, not a hasty one shared over… over a cup of tea!” you complained.

His expression changed and he started sputtering apologies. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know – I – ahuh!” he started lightly coughing.

And now it was your turn to feel apologetic, because all the bad tension between you and him brought on another violent coughing fit for him.

“I’m okay.” He choked out, eyes water and face reddened – some blood pooled at the corners of his lips, he instinctually brought his hand up to his mouth to catch any that dripped.

You rushed and kneeled over him, placing a much-needed soothing hand on his shoulder. “Satoru, I’m sorry.”

He tried to muster up a joke to lighten your worry, “H-hey, since when d’you call me S-Satoru? I thought it was strictly Go-jo.” he was interrupted by more coughing.

You comforted him, until his parents came into the room. They seemed disappointed with you, but masked it.

The night fell heavy all around the Gojo home. The barren Sakura trees’ branches subtly shook in the wind. A storm was approaching.

“Hey, sweetlips.” Gojo slipped into your room as you were in the middle of preparing for bed. “There’s a big storm comin’, if you get scared you can sleep with me.”

“Are you out of your mi-” you shut up when a sudden, extraordinary crack of lightning sounded and shocked you right out of your skin.

Gojo had a little laughing fit at your overreaction. He was completely calm at such a loud noise. Of course he was.

“I’m not sleeping with you!” you muttered angrily, but then you saw the dejection on his face – no, rather, you saw the way he tried to conceal it, and you felt bad.

Maybe tonight is the night you’ll try harder, you thought.

“Okay, well, don’t cry like a wimp if the thunder scares you ‘cause I won’t come running to soothe you.” He said and left you alone.

When he walked down the hall, his fingers grazed over his lips. All he could think about was how blissful it felt to kiss you, even if you did reject him. And he was your first kiss – maybe it was wrong to smile over that, but he couldn’t help himself as he climbed into the comforts of his bed.

A violent rainstorm engulfed the village.

As the lightning got more frequent and more terrifying, Gojo scrunched up his shoulders and half-hid his face under his blanket. He felt like a boy again, as scared of the thunderstorms as he was when he was seven years old. His pretty upturned nose peaked over the blanket, eyes glistening with tears as he recalled the fateful day you and him encountered each other at the Taiko-bashi.

He held onto that memory with a death grip. No one else ever had the honor of being so close to his heart, not even his best friend who he had made at Jujutsu high when he was seventeen. No, that heart of his he kept reserved for you. He thought to himself that night, while curling up on his side in pain, that even if he dies, at least he would die having been able to love you – albeit without reciprocation.

And then it happened. He shot up and let out a violent cough, and began spluttering over his white blanket. The thunderstorm was so violent that it muffled even the violent coughing in his room. His head felt like a dense ball of tension.

Unrequited love for many boys his age was heartbreaking, but not deadly. He morbidly laughed at that fact, observing the flower that he had thrown up onto his blanket, soaked in his blood.

He was dying.

He defeatedly closed his eyes, breathing through his blood-glistening mouth. His chest lightly heaved. “Y/n, you’re really gonna be the death of me… ah, oh well. That’s okay.” He muttered madly to himself and fell back onto his bed, too weak to stay awake any longer.

It was probably the work of the universe, but you floated down the unlit hall and tapped at Gojo’s doorframe. “Are you awake? Satoru?” you called his name in a gentle murmur.

There was an eerie silence. You slid open the door and caught a glimpse of bloodied sheets and a mangled-looking flower.

“Satoru!” you rushed over to him, stirring him awake with a harsh shake on his arm. “Satoru? Are you okay? Can you hear me?”

He groaned weakly – you felt a small relief. He wasn’t dead, though he really looked pale enough to be. His cheeks were flushed, his lips cracked and dry with residual blood.

Not a word you spoke sounded coherent to him though it was, all he heard was the soothing qualities in your voice. Though his vision was blurred, he knew it was you, because he felt the familiar air and scent of you.

He felt a strange sort of alleviation when you cupped his cheeks, murmuring something. Oh, when did he end up in a doctor’s room, laid on a patient’s cot? Weren’t you and him just in his bedroom at night, during a loud thunderstorm?

All he recalled was that you held his hand and squeezed it for a long time, while you were travelling somewhere. He remembered feeling your comforting presence each time his consciousness stirred.

“Have I died and gone to heaven?” he chuckled jokingly, feeling your lips press to his forehead.

“Huh?”

“Probably dreaming…” he muttered to himself.

“Satoru, you’re not in heaven you’re at Doctor Tanaka’s home.” You told him.

He pinched his eyes shut, overwhelmed by his afflicting sickness and Six Eyes.

“I’m so sorry…” he heard you speaking in a more tender voice to him than you ever had before. He felt the pressure in his chest lessen as you spoke, “… I was going to come to you because the thunderstorm scared me… no, actually, because I wanted to be with you. I felt this overwhelming urge to be at your side, and I don’t know why. Satoru, I’ve been such a fool. I’ve been such a scared fool, fearful of loving a stranger. Or, no, I guess I’ve feared loving someone I’m not supposed to be loving. You’re so special I feel driven away by it. But I promise I won’t flee from your love anymore, Satoru – I love you, and I’ll express it as much as I can in this feeble human form. The rest of our love will happen in the stars, after we die, I guess.”

He opened his eyes. It felt like the burdening fog that had been plaguing him since he was a little boy on the Taiko-bashi finally cleared. Everything felt fresh and sharp, and good and properly comforting. It felt like he had woken up from a long dream or arrived home from a harrowing journey through the landscapes of his mind.

“So you can be good with your words.” Was the first thing he said, and that was such a Gojo response that you knew he was okay.

“How do you feel?” you asked him, peering down at him.

He groaned and stretched and shifted around, fussing dramatically.

“I feel…” he began, and looked over at your lips. “Like I deserve to be kissed.”

“Oh, shut up you…”

He pouted. “Okay, ‘guess the kissing can wai- mmf!”

You kissed him very quickly and recoiled from shyness. His lips were divine.

He shot up out of the bed like he couldn’t just believe what happened.

“Wow.” He blinked at you. “So gutsy, you know you’re not allowed to kiss your husband!” he joked.

“You are such a – ”

“ – good kisser?”

“An idiot!” you giggled, genuinely enjoying his company.

The two of you bantered, basking in the newfound feeling of shared love. When the doctor came back in, he was preparing to witness the worst – but he was utterly surprised and at a loss for words when he walked in on you two smiling and laughing.

And it was the talk of the village. Neighbors gossiped, “Did you hear that Gojo Satoru is cured?” they spoke amongst themselves, “I heard! Apparently it’s a very romantic love story, did you read the newspaper article?”

You and Gojo drifted down the Taiko-bashi, together. He squeezed your hand when you set foot on the bridge, the cool skin of his wrist tickling your inner wrist as they pressed together.

“What are we doing here?” you asked him confusedly.

“Don’t you know this place? It’s the place we met.”

“Ooh, you’re romantic, huh?” you smirked.

A small blush crowned his cheeks.

“I’ve been romantic since the start.” He defended.

“What d’you mean! You were so cheeky!” you kicked his leg.

“I was quite a menace, I’m sorry – not sorry – kidding, kidding, I am sorry.”

He looked at you with a cheeky smirk, knowing damn well what you were talking about.

“You know…” he began, looking over the bridge at the river flowing beneath and admiring how the stream carried the Sakura blossoms. “Whenever I used to get coughing fits – bad ones – I would soothe myself with the memory of when we first met here. I can still recall the kimono you wore, and the Sakura that got tangled in your hair – and I thought about…” he came closer to you, speaking with a charming allure, “How badly I wanted to pluck that flower from your hair.”

You blinked up at him. How could such romantic words come out of him? You didn’t know how to respond.

“Ooh, did I make you shy?” he teased.

“No…”

“I totally made you shy. That’s so sweet. Are you blushing?” he giggled, putting his cool palm up to your cheek to feel the heat, “Oh, you’re blushing blushing. You could burn my hand right off.”

“Satoru!” you giggled.

“Ah!” he clutched his chest dramatically when you said his name, “Don’t say my name like that! I have a wife.” He joked.

“You are ridiculous!”

He gave you a big, toothy smile. “But you love me for it.”

“I do.” You tell him, and though he’s heard it many times after that day, each time feels like the first time you’re saying you love him.

“Gimme a kiss.” He asks.

“Come get it.” You tease, slowly backing away off the bridge.

“Seriously? You’re gonna make me chase you for a kiss? I’ve coughed up petals because of you, ‘n you’re gonna do me like this – heyyy! Get back here!”

Running into the petal-littered streets like carefree kids felt so freeing and exhilarating. He felt like he was catching up on all the fun he missed, if only you would have lived in his village as a child or visited more often.

“Got you!”

“Ah! Jesus, you scared – mmmf!”

He didn’t hesitate to take a much-needed kiss from your quivering lips. He kissed you so hard that you felt dizzied, lost for breath, rendered speechless. And he relished the love pouring out from you.

You stood there being kissed by your husband in a quaint alley, standing tiptoed on the Sakura blossom-littered ground to meet him halfway. Gojo’s heart thumped at the smallest things, like the fact you were standing on your tiptoes – that was the cutest thing in the world to him.

The two of you took a break for breath, and silently admired the Sakura blossoms as they drifted, being swept away by the wind.

Gojo looked at them, and looked at you, and thought of everything that had happened up until now. He was about to say something lovey-dovey but blurted out a dumb joke instead just to hear your laugh.

“Damn, I used to cough up those things.”

You laughed, “Your jokes aren’t good, Satoru.”

“But you laughed.” He said cockily.

“Shut up or I will never kiss you again.” You playfully threatened.

“You don’t mean it.” He tilted his head at you. You cracked a smile.

On the walk home, he kept calling you various nicknames – all flowers.

That day became a cherished memory of the past as the two of you weaved your way into proper adulthood. And the nicknames followed; he went through the whole flower alphabet, even the bizarrely named ones, even the Latin root names. When he wanted to annoy you, he’d call you prunus subgenus cerasus.

Now Gojo fusses around the living room of his tiny Tokyo apartment, preparing food for a little boy of the name Megumi. The day is full and busy, but any second he can get with you, he relishes.

“My tulip, 'gimme a kiss.” He asks.

“Come get it.” You tease.

“Ew.” Megumi grimaces, hearing this exchange right as he walks into the kitchen. He walks right back out.

“Gumi, get back here, food is almost ready.” Gojo calls after him, then leans down to try and kiss you but you playfully dodge him.

It always happens like that – he asks for a kiss, you refuse jokingly, he chases after you for a kiss and you scamper away. Like a running joke that’s a callback to your past.

“C’mere, you – ” he finally snatches you up, too needy for a kiss to play around anymore. “Stay right there and let me kiss you.”

He enjoys every second of kissing you, embracing you tight like he’s never letting go. Just like when he first kissed you, Gojo cups the back of your neck and tilts his head to deepen the kiss. It has you breathless, gasping – he’s so alluring that you shudder.

“Satoru!” you scold, “The food will get cold…” you excuse.

“Okay, okay. But you owe me extra kisses tonight.” He winks.

“You’ll have to get them out of me yourself.” You tease.

“Oh, I will, don’t you worry. I’ll take every little kiss I can.” He says determinedly.

He pecks at your lips, savoring the sound and feeling of the act.

“Ew!” Megumi grimaces, and walks out the kitchen just as he walks in like earlier.

“Gumi! Food! Sit-your-silly-butt-and-eat! You rascal you.” Gojo lifts him by the armpits, and tickles him like a real dad.

Megumi is poker-faced at the tickling.

“Y/n, tell Gojo he’s being annoying.”

“Husband, you’re being annoying.” You murmur up at Gojo.

“Am I?” he smiles down at you, giving you another cheeky peck.

Megumi sighs.

“Stop spyin’ and start eating, little lotus.” Gojo threatens playfully.

“Dad. Save the flower nicknames for Y/n.” Megumi scrunches his nose up.

Gojo's face lit up. “Okay, okay. Enjoy eating, I'm gonna go see where she went off to.”

He hurried into the bedroom where you had wandered into and excitedly whisper-shouted “He called me dad!” he gushed like he was the happiest man alive.

1K notes · View notes

darkpetal16 · 2 months

Note

Quick question for all the boys: what nickname would they give to their partner?

ALL?? OK BABE I GOT YOU. but like I can't do an "all" post again there's just too many now lol.

Underfell!Sans (Red): Babe (all), sweetheart (for the shy or introverted babes), doll/dollface (for the feisty babes)

Underfell!Papyrus (Edge): Love (but very sparingly, he’s not fond of nicknames):

Underfell!Wingding (Fell): My dear / My love / My other half / My heart (all emphasis on the my)

Underfell!Asriel (Prince): doesn’t use nicknames unless explicitly asked to. Might refer to you as partner / mate / spouse however.

Underfell!Grillby (Fellby): Sweet girl/boy/pup & Little firecracker.

Underswap!Sans (Blue): Not fond of nicknames but will occasionally call you his puzzle piece. If you ask him to call you something specific, he will.

Underswap!Papyrus (Stretch): Honey, honey bear, honey pie, spicy honey, and if he wants to be ornery / annoy others in public. . .honey bunny wunny.

Underswap!Wingding (Thread): My dear, my little patchwork, darling, marshmallow / cinnamon spice / pumpkin pie.

Underswap!Asriel (Buttercup): Dummy (affectionately). He gets embarrassed by nicknames.

Mafiafell!Sans (Hit): for feminine presenting partner: doll face, sweetheart, lil lady, cookie. For masculine presenting partner: pal, buzz, lil gent, dish. For neutral, mixture of both depending on his mood.

Mafiafell!Papyrus (Boss): He doesn’t do nicknames, per se, but instead waxes poetry for you about you in private. He’d also prefer it if you didn’t give him nicknames in public. Reputation is very important to him and his family and he expects you respect that.

Mafiafell!Wingding (Don): Muse, my dear, darling, puppet, marionette, toy

Mafiafell!Asriel (Heir): Meadow, my haven, my sunshine (if early riser) / my nightfall (if late sleeper)

Slumbertale!Sans (Slumber): Buddy, chum, pal, bucko, friend, fella who naps with me, pillow, blanket, kitten (if you nap often) / puppy (if you do not take naps often), the one who makes plans, my worser half (jokingly), my alarm clock, etc. He’ll come up with obscure and odd nicknames depending on your routine together.

Slumbertale!Papyrus (Mayor): MY RIGHT HAND! There is no bigger compliment because this fella HATES to rely on anyone so if you’re his right hand then you’re someone as invaluable to him as his own right hand.

Slumbertale!Wingding (Abyss): Dewdrop.

Slumbertale!Asriel (Unending): My dream come true, dreamer, buttercup, butterscotch, butter biscuit

Slumbertale!Grillby (Sleeby): His nickname will be dependent on your favorite drink. For example if you like pina coladas he’d call you his sweet coconut, and if you like soda he’d call you his pop-heart.

Horrortale!Sans (Axe): No nicknames unless you specifically tell him to. He just doesn’t think about it.

Horrortale!Papyrus (Sugar): My little meatball, Strawberry jam, rhubarb pie, my berry, love, heart, SOUL

Horrortale!Wingding (Ghost): my heart / our hope

Horrortale!Asriel (Yarrow): butterscotch, cinnamon bun, and sun drop

Horrortale!Grillby (Calcifer): no nicknames!

Reapertale!Sans (Reaper): Nothing set in stone. He'll come up with one time nicknames for puns. Like if you were burned alive & died to met him, he'd call you hot stuff. If you drowned he'd call you a mermaid with lungs. Things along those lines.

Sciencetale!Sans (Doc): he tried nicknames. It came out awkward because he kept stuttering and he was deeply embarrassed so he never did it again.

Sciencetale!Wingding (Professor): Treasure

Siren!Sans (Siren): That’s a human concept, so he wouldn’t choose any. You can tell him what you want him to call you and he’ll accommodate.

Siren!Wingding (Apex): Same as above.

Dustttale!Sans (Dust): Idiot, fool, daydreamer, dreamer, (and very rarely when he thinks you aren’t listening) my miracle

MASTERLIST (HCS & REQUESTED SCENARIOS)

#undertale #undertale au #underfell #underswap #mafiafell #slumbertale #siren sans #siren wingdings #horrortale #reapertale #dusttale #dust sans #sciencetale #hc #interactive fiction #jelly donut #iykyk

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aomine-ryo · 1 year

Text

A lil scenario for Aomine’s birthday because he is, in fact, the best boy. It’s nothing too intricate, I just like to think that Aomine is super nervous around his crushes even though he’s a narcissistic bitch on court (love him tho)

Scenario: Aomine’s crush confesses to him on his birthday

gender neutral reader

Birthdays were just another day for Aomine, and he’s perfectly fine keeping it that way. His complaints begin when everyone around him makes it a bigger deal than it is. And the biggest culprit of this was Momoi.

As much as Aomine loved his friendship with Momoi, it’s days like this where he wished she would just tone it down a bit. He knew that whatever she did was out of love for him, but the way she showed it was way too flamboyant for Aomine.

This year round though, she seemed to be a little too quiet about her plans for the day. She still was the first one to wish him and give him a gift, but she hadn’t mentioned anything else. Either she finally respected his wishes to keep things low-key, or there was a surprise party looming around the corner. And Aomine had an awful feeling it was the latter.

“Dai-chan, you don’t have any plans later today, do you?” Momoi questioned as the two of them walked to school together that morning.

“I do,” Aomine murmured, letting out a big yawn as he rubbed his eyes to wake himself up .

“Huh? What plans?” Momoi questioned. Even though he was half asleep, he could hear the panic in her tone. She was so obvious.

“I have a date with my bed,” Aomine said simply, daydreaming about being wrapped under his warm blanket again.

Momoi clicked her tongue in annoyance. “It’s your birthday. You’re not just gonna spend it in your room.”

“There’s nothing stopping me,” Aomine replied.

“I’m stopping you,” Momoi snapped. “Let’s have a dinner at mine.”

“What? Just you and me?” Aomine questioned absentmindedly, dark blue eyes catching a glimpse of his classmate walking through the school gates.

As soon as Momoi noticed you, she knew she’d completely lost Aomine’s attention. But she carried on anyway, “I thought of inviting Tetsu,” she paused for a moment as a grin took over her face. “If you want, I can invite Y/N as well.”

Aomine snapped back into reality upon hearing your name. “What? No! That’d be so weird,” he protested, his face heating up.

Momoi sighed, “When will you make a move on them?”

“I don’t like Y/N like that,” he replied defensively, avoiding eye contact with Momoi as he did so.

“You’re not fooling anyone, but sure,” she said as the two of them approached their classrooms. “Anyways, you, me and Tetsu tonight, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah whatever,” Aomine rolled his eyes before entering his classroom and plopping down in the seat behind you.

“Daiki! Happy birthday!” You said, turning around to face him with a wide smile.

Aomine was suddenly more awake than ever. “Oh thanks,” he said curtly, “how come you’re not passed out on the desk like every other day?”

“Had to stay awake to be the first in the class to wish you,” you shrugged, “Plus you would’ve woken me up anyways because you’re an asshole like that.”

Aomine chuckled at the sentiment, “How sweet of you to stay up for me,” his tone was mocking; it made you want to punch him.

“You’re so annoying,” you rolled your eyes.

The rest of his school day was fairly normal— napping in class, finding any opportunity to annoy you, drooling over you when you weren’t looking— the usual. In a way, he was glad his birthday was on a Friday; being in school meant that he got to spend his day with you, though he wasn’t exactly pleased to be waking up at 7 a.m. for it.

“Dai-chan! Hurry up! I’ve got to prepare for the dinner!” Momoi called out as she stood at the door of your classroom at the end of the day, interrupting a nonsensical back and forth between you and Aomine.

The navy haired boy sighed, “Satsuki, that’s a problem you created for yourself.”

“You say that, but when the food takes too long to cook it’s non-stop complaining from your end,” Momoi retorted, earning a small laugh from you.

“Whatever. See you Monday, loser,” Aomine said to you, his hand reaching over to your head and messing with your hair.

“Stop that!” you whined, trying to swat his arm away and regaining your composure once you did. “Have a good birthday, stupid,” you said, packing up your stuff once he headed out.

“You guys are so cute,” Momoi beamed once it was just her and Aomine in the hallways.

“Can we please not have this conversation again? Just for today?” Aomine groaned, already frustrated with himself for the lack of flirting he’s been able to do with you. He didn’t know what it was. It was usually easy for him to flirt with girls he was interested in, but with you he was always nervous; afraid he’d mess it up with one wrong move.

Once Aomine had gotten home, he was absolutely exhausted. He laid down in his bed and let out a heavy sigh. He didn’t know if he had it in him to go for dinner with Momoi and Kuroko— let alone whatever Momoi was covering up. He just wanted to nap and maybe just scroll through his socials— maybe he’ll find the perfect meme to send to you so that he has an excuse to talk to you again. Nevertheless, he did end up drifting off into the nap he’d been waiting for since he had woken up that morning.

Aomine was stirred awake by the sound of his phone’s ringtone. He squinted at the bright screen, seeing Momoi’s name and quickly remembering that it was still his birthday. He brought the phone up to his ear, “Hello,” he said groggily, eyes closing once again.

“Where are you? I’ve been trying to reach you for the past half hour!” Momoi scolded into the phone.

“I was asleep,” Aomine answered simply.

Momoi sighed in disappointment, “Get to mine quick. Tetsu and I are hungry.”

“Mhm,” Aomine hummed before ending the phone call. It took him a moment, but he finally gathered the strength to drag himself out of bed and into the shower, cussing out his birthday each step of the way.

Aomine made it out of the house fairly quickly, but there wasn’t a single thought going through his head when he walked up the driveway of Momoi’s house. He didn’t bother ringing the doorbell— he never did. He took his shoes off and headed towards the living room, “Oi Satsuki—”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY AOMINE!”

Aomine’s heart leaped out of his chest for a moment at the sudden chorus when he stepped into the room. He had fully forgotten about the possibility of a surprise party. Standing in front of him was a crowd of basically all the people he knew— the Miracles, his teammates, some of his classmates, and most notably— you.

“What on earth…” was all he was really able to say. He was still trying to process the fact that you were here. He definitely did not put enough effort into his outfit for this to be happening.

“Were you surprised?” Momoi asked, pouncing up and down like an excited puppy.

“No, you’re a bad liar. I’m just sleepy,” Aomine answered truthfully, causing everyone to erupt into a fit of joking booing and jeering.

“Okay okay, we’ll get to the cake in a second, but first you have to take your birthday shot,” Kagami grinned, swinging his arm around Aomine’s shoulders and handing him a shot glass filled with vodka.

Aomine downed the shot with no hesitation. He needed all the confidence he could get to try to flirt with you— not that he really had a game plan in mind.

Admittedly, it was rather nice to have everyone all together. It had been a while since he had seen Kuroko so it was nice catching up with him and also bullying Kagami whilst he was at it. Moreover, he couldn’t help but steal glances of you chatting with people and swaying along to the music— he still couldn’t believe that you were actually there.

He did, however, make the stupid mistake of matching his drinks with Kise— who had a much higher tolerance than he did. Aomine soon found himself needing to get away from the music and the crowd, so he stepped out to the front porch, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. He took a seat on the steps, blankly staring out into the empty street as he tried to stop his vision from spinning.

He heard the front door behind him open and shut, steps moving towards him. “What’s the birthday boy doing all alone out here?” you said, taking a seat next to him.

Aomine’s lips instinctively broke out into a smile upon hearing your voice, “Trying to stop the world from spinning. And also avoiding Kise because I cannot stomach another shot,” he answered honestly.

“I do not envy you right now,” you chuckled, knowing the feeling all too well.

“You haven’t had anything to drink?” Aomine questioned, trying to meet your eyes but failing miserably.

“Not really, I don’t let myself go all out around people I don’t know too well,” you shrugged.

“You don’t need to worry about that, I’ll take care of you if you get too drunk,” Aomine said, a slight slur in his words.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the gesture, “As sweet as that is, you are in no state to be taking care of yourself— let alone me.”

“I’d sober up if I need to,” Aomine said confidently.

“I’ll take your word for it,” you said, tone filled with sarcasm. A silence fell between you two as you both looked out into the street. It wasn’t an awkward silence, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either— for you, at least. Aomine seemed to be in another dimension by the looks of it, but you felt like there was something that needed to be said. “Oh right!” You said shuffling around and breaking the silence suddenly as you reached into your pocket and pulled out an envelope. “Here, this is for you.”

“What is it?” Aomine asked, brows furrowed in confusion as he took the plain white envelope that said ‘To Daiki’ in your handwriting on it.

“It’s a birthday card,” you said, fidgeting with your hands nervously as you pondered over whether this was the right move.

“Can I open it?” Aomine asked, his respectful manners around you remaining even though he was absolutely hammered.

You hesitated for a moment as you thought over the contents of the card. While it was just a greeting card, you also put down how you felt about him— more specifically, how you had a crush on him. You weren’t sure how he’d react and it was eating you alive. “Um, okay. But don’t read it aloud. And don’t look at me when you read it,” you said, burying your face in your palms as he opened the envelope.

You saw his smile widen upon seeing the card in the first place— it had a cute little cartoon dog with a birthday hat and balloon on the front. Aomine thought that it was such a cute design, it almost reminded him of Nigou. He opened the card up eagerly, wondering what had you so shy. His eyes scanned over the words you had written down, his whole body seizing when he got to the words ‘I like you.’ He read it over and over again in disbelief, sure that it was his drunken mind making him see words that weren’t there. He even ran his finger over the words to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. Damn those birthday wishes work quick.

He slowly looked over at you, meeting your eyes through the gaps between your fingers. “Are you serious?” he asked softly.

“It would be really cruel for me to lie about something like that,” you said, trying to use humour to cope with the nervousness.

Aomine leaned over and wrapped his arms around you tightly, pulling you into a hug. It definitely caught you off guard because it was now your turn to freeze.

“I feel the same way,” he mumbled into your shoulder, your tension beginning to ease with his words. He didn’t exactly intend for the hug, it was something his body did before he could even process that it was happening. He wanted to kiss you, but he was afraid that he wouldn’t remember it the next day— a stupid thought, but what else could you expect from him?

“You have no idea how glad I am to hear that. I genuinely thought I was gonna vomit out of nervousness the whole way here,” you said, finding comfort in the sweet scent of Aomine’s cologne and the sound of his light chuckle.

Aomine finally broke away from the hug, cupping your face in his hands as his dark blue eyes met yours. “You’ve officially made this the best birthday I’ve had in a while,” he grinned, his lips were so close that you could feel his breath on your skin.

“You’re welcome, stupid,” you replied in what was barely a whisper, your eyes darting between his eyes and lips before he finally closed the gap. His lips were soft against yours. Even though he’d been waiting for this moment for ages, he wanted to savour it. There was no need for him to go all in. He just wanted to melt into your touch and bask in your gentleness. The world finally stopped spinning; as your fingers ran through his hair, he did his best to remember this moment. Your soft touch, your fresh scent, the sound of your gentle breaths— he wanted to remember every single bit of you that made his day.

#kuroko no basket #kurokos basketball #knb #kuroko no basquet #aomine daiki #momoi satsuki #kuroko no basuke x reader #aomine daiki x reader #kise ryouta #kuroko tetsuya #kagami taiga #murasakibara atsushi #akashi seijuro

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divinelolita · 1 year

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heyy😘

i feel like you've done this before but its worth a shot😞

could you do jealousy headcannons with the whole band of tokio hotel🤞🏾(separately of course) with a little nsfw thrown in please(all of them topping idrc if they're dom top or sub top)

thank you smmm i love your writing like fr your keeping my writing alive😭 if u alr did this just straight up ignore it😌

JEALOUS BAND X GN READER

AGGHHH I LOVE U 👹! i’ve been so confused cuz normally I'd have so many ideas but I was absolutely stuck recently💀 sorry if it's not good I'm better at writing dom reader..

(contains some nsfw themes so if you don't like that please don't read!!!)

BILL:

・He doesn't get jealous easily, but you make him crazy, bae.

・Y'all r probably at a club or something when it happens.

・If you flirted with someone/touched their arm or hand he would just look from afar, thinking about what he was gonna do with you.

・He'd get so caught up in his daydreaming that he feels himself grow hotter and more desperate for you.

・He eventually goes up to you and pulls you to the car

・While he's driving he holds your thigh in his hand, rubbing little circles into the side with his thumb.

・Remind you that you are his and his only 😍.

・When y'all get out of the car he can't keep his hands off you, roaming all over your body as he pulls you close.

・If y'all have sex he'd make you scream his name, again reminding you that you are his and he can pleasure you better than anyone 😋.

・It's getting a lil cringey and serious bro I'm not used to this-

"Good boy/girl. Doing so well."

"So pretty, so good for me.."

・Jealously ends soon after, he knows you love him as he does for you!

TOM:

・Unlike Bill, I feel like he'd get very jealous.

・Only watches you for a second before going up to you, holding a hand around your waist as he sees who your talking to.

・Makes sure to call you 'babe' and 'darling' so the person knows your taken 🤷🏻.

・You feel him occasionally grab your thigh, his hand trailing closer to your inner thigh-

・If you swat his hand away his grip only tightens.

・He eventually pulls you to the car, and baby he's going wild.

・Brings you into a fierce kiss, your lips nearly getting cut.

・Roams his hands up your shirt, fingers going down your sides and waist. 🤭

・Tbh he's so horny rn y'all def have car sex.

・If your into it he probably spanks you..

I'M CACKLING HELP LMFAO

・If you thought Bill was rough your in for something with Tom.

・Bitch has no mercy

・Probably overstimulates you too....

GEORG:

・Actually hides being jealous pretty well, but he can't always help it.

・He feels his stomach get knotted if he sees you talk/act in a flirty way with someone else.

・Tries to ignore it, reminding himself that you love him and you wouldn't do anything weird.

・If the other preon touches you, though, he's right beside you.

・He keeps a hand at the back of your neck, digging his fingers in it gently.

・Doesn't bother taking you to the car, y'all go to a bathroom.

・Throws you in the stall as he locks it behind him.

・Shushes you if you try to make excuses.

・Keeps his hand at the back of your neckbas he kisses you, his other hand having a firm grip on your thigh.

・His kisses trail down to your jaw, then neck, and all the way down...

・He edges you until your crying, man.

"You can take a little more, right.?"

・He shushes you if your too loud (due to being in the bathroom) but he can't help but grin whenever you moan out his name.

GUSTAV:

・Not the jealous type at all, nope.

・There's only so much a boy can take, though.

・Bites the inside of his cheek as he glares at you.

・Watches the way you act, if your with someone else he makesbsure to also watch their movements.

・If they get too close to you he feels like he got the air sucked outta him.

・Doesn't stop you from talking unless the other person gets a little too comfortable.

・Afterwards, in the car, he'd ask a few questions about this person.

・Raises an eyebrow at you if you lie or don't explain.

・If anything he's a soft dom 🤷🏻

・Holds your hands over your head while having sex.

・Leaves kisses and hickeys all over your neck and chest, nipping at the sensitive skin.

"You're so perfect... so sweet."

・Praises you like there's no tomorrow.

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aajjks · 1 year

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Tutor. JJK

synopsis. becoming your tutor was only the start.

warnings. söft yändērē, sïmp 101 jk, öbsëssîvë thoughts, öbsëssïön, flüff, he’s sö shy lmao

note. just a lil something, I like to call him simp!jk. share thoughts plz.

Jungkook could look at you forever.

You are so attractive, that smile of yours, those E/C eyes of yours make his mind feel dizzy, you make him feel so stupid, so foolish.

So foolishly in love with you.

But he knows you’re way out of his league, you’re everything he’s not, you two are no match, but yet his heart craves you, he can’t stop loving you. How can he not love you, you’re his first love, he was in love with you the first time he saw you.

“Can you stop daydreaming?” Jungkook almost curses under his breath, his friend annoys the fuck out of him sometimes, why would he even dare to interrupt him when he’s busy thinking about you?

“Don’t give me the death stare, simp.” Jungkook doesn’t stop glaring at his friend though, biting the inner cheek of his mouth, glaring daggers at him. “I mean… why don’t you just ask her out already? It’s been two years, JK.”

Jungkooks shoulders sulk at that, his friend has a point, but he simply doesn’t have the courage to ask you out.

You would reject him in a heartbeat.

“No… she’s way out of my league, man…” he barely whispers to himself. He’s so insecure, he wants you so much but he’s so scared to have you, you’re an angel, he’s not worthy of you.

“You never know Jungkook, I mean personally you’re a pretty good guy, I don’t understand your fear but you do you.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply but tries to focus on the teacher instead, as much as he wants to spend the whole period gawking at you, he can’t risk being noticed,

Especially not by you.

“Okay, so I am pretty sure that everyone’s understood the lecture, I hope there are no questions.” The old professor speaks, it doesn’t interest Jungkook.

His mind is still set on you, you never leave his mind, you have him obsessed, it scares him almost. But it feels so good though, because he has a reason to look forward to every day, his reason is you.

“Actually sir?” He blinks twice when he hears your voice, his heart immediately skips a beat. “I had a confusion regarding the concept, if you could help me understand- I am sorry yn but the class is almost over, maybe one of your peers will help you.”

Jungkook doesn’t think before he speaks up. “I-I CAN HELP YN!” His voice echoes around the class room, all of the students turn to look at the shy boy,

Including you.

You are looking straight at him, he can feel your eyes on him.

“Well it’s settled then, thank you Jungkook.” The professor picks up the papers and smiles, “class dismissed.”

Jungkook feels so uncomfortable under everyone’s gaze but as soon as the bell rings. He sighs of relief. Jungkook notices his friends gaze on him too, he doesn’t look at him, because he knows you’re still present in the room,

And he’s pretty sure you’re approaching him already. “Dude she’s coming, good luck.” His friend whispers to him, Jungkook closes his eyes, his friend leaves, even though he couldn’t care less about that typically,

He was all alone with you now.

“Hi Jungkook,”

He will explode any moment from the excitement that’s running through his body, his brown eyes shoot up at you, he stands up, his body is reacting on its own, “H-Hi yn.. wait you know my name?”

You are simply the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, you give him a small smile, it makes him want to scream, “of course! And thank you for volunteering to help me, I appreciate it.” You put your hand out for him to shake, and he almost whimpers as he feels your skin touch his,

“I-It’s all good YN… don’t worry about it.” You’re making it impossible for him to act normal, “s-so shall I… oh you’re so cute jungkook!”

Oh my God.

“W-What?” Jungkook feels insane. He’s not sure if he’s hallucinating about you calling him cute, has he gone actually insane?

“I said you’re pretty cute, Jungkook.” He still hasn’t let go of your hand, you try to break the handshake, but he doesn’t budge.

“Are you okay?” You ask him with sheer concern, he’s too lost in his thoughts to realise that he’s been holding your hand for the last five minutes.

“O-Oh yeah I am… I’m sorry!” He quickly leaves your hand and apologises, bowing in front of you like a loyal servant. “aw no it’s fine. So I was thinking maybe you could help me with the concepts either in the free period or.. somewhere else?”

His eyes widen, he couldn’t believe this,

He had a golden opportunity in his hands.

“I-I… don’t mind anywhere YN.” He scratches the back of his head but inside he’s screaming, it’s so easy for him to conceal his feelings.

Oh the things you make him do.

“Great so how about my house? I mean I’m kind of a lazy person so I’d rather not meet at a coffeehouse or something, I love being in the comfort of my home.” You adorably explain and he’s sure his eyes are heart shaped right now.

“If you don’t mind of course.” Oh just how considerate you are, Jungkook is so obsessed with you, you’re an angel.

He’s convinced.

“O-Of course YN! I’m cool, I-I’m fine!”

“Okay thank you tutor, see you at 7?”

“Of course YN!”

“So I will text you the address, see you soon.” You wave at him, he just stands watching you walk out, you have him awestruck, today is a very blessed day for him,

Also he managed to keep a few secrets from you, like how he knows where you live, Jungkook sighed of relief when you left,

This was a start of something really special for him, and you.

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dellalyra · 11 months

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ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʙʏ ʙᴏᴏᴋ: ᴀᴋɪᴏ ʀʏᴜ ᴛᴀᴅᴀsʜɪ ɢᴏᴊᴏ

ᴀ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ғᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴs ᴇxᴛʀᴀ

Pixie says: requested by my darling angel mrs.geto (aka @soraya-daydreams) forever ago but I have just finished bc uni has been kicking my booty. i love this - it’s mostly silly but a nice lil extra for FF.

The first time Akio laughed, it surpised nobody that it was his father who elicited the sound. The game of peekaboo had always made the baby smile and gurgle away but today it seemed to especially tickle him as you lay beside him on the bed with Satoru popping in and out sporadically of his field of vision. Satoru popped up with enough gusto to even make you laugh. That’s when the most melodic sound either of you had heard rang across the room. A tiny, bubbling giggle from the stretched out baby on the comforter - you both froze.

“Do it again, ‘Toru.” You whisper, urgently.

So he does.

And he laughs again.

That night you both spent hours coming up with ways to make the baby laugh and recording videos to send to the family.

Safe to say, next time Itadori was over - it became very clear that Akio was a Gojo through and through when he began laughing at Sukuna’s malicious remarks through Yuuji’s cheek mouth.

At 5 months, Akio was on his play mat on the living room floor while you made some food with your husband. Music from the speaker had coaxed your husband into twirling you around and wrapping you in his arms as he laughed at whatever nonsense you were babbling on about, pressing kisses to your cheeks and nose. You’re spun like a princess and when you see the baby mat, you gasp. Satoru stops, looking at you - then the mat.

Akio wasn’t on his back anymore chewing on his teething ring - he was sitting up.

Sitting up and staring at you both.

With a murderous glare of an angry cat, exactly like his father.

“He sat up.” Satoru whispers.

“Yeah, with first degree murder in mind, I think.” You reply.

You approach the baby (cautiously).

His face suddenly changes into a bright smile, wide and cheerful as he has another first.

He reaches his chubby little arms out and makes grabby hands toward you.

Gasping, you scoop him up.

“My baby! Of course you can have a cuddle, my smart little man!” You coo, nuzzling his little head.

Satoru leaps over the back of the sofa and comes to join in.

“Grabby hands and sitting up in one night! Baby boy, you’re spoiling us!” He says, reaching to squeeze his arms around your waist.

The baby frowns.

Satoru pulls away.

Akio smiles.

Satoru lifts Akio from your arms, and he’s fine and dandy, nuzzling his papa.

Satoru goes to kiss you both on the cheek but when he gets to you he’s met with a scowling baby again.

“Holy shit - kid, am I not allowed to touch your mama?!” Satoru gasps.

You test the theory and find that Akio loves cuddling you both still, just - separate. The minute Satoru tries to kiss you it’s back to the scowl (luckily, not a tantrum).

“Listen here - she was my wife first.” He narrows his eyes at the baby he has suspended above his head.

“He’s bound to be a little possessive, he did come out of me.” You roll your eyes, laughing at the two Gojo boys battling for your attention.

Satoru pouts, sulking.

“Yeah well, I come in you.” He retorts.

“You are so lucky that child is only 6 months old and you haven’t scarred him for life like you did with Megumi.”

At 7 months - you and Satoru were waving goodbye to Megumi on a Sunday evening as he went back to stay at the dorms for the week, with Akio on your hip. Feeling movement from the baby, you look at him as he clumsily waves his hand around toward his brother.

“Look! ‘Toru! He’s waving bye-bye! You waving bye-bye to ‘Gumi, baba?” You coo, as Megumi stands at the gate for an extra minute just to wave at his little brother being doted on by his parents. Ijichi, here to collect Megumi, receives a wave too.

8 months - Akio’s hand and finger movements are improving rapidly, slightly advanced for his age if anything. He can grab and pull and push and pick things up now - much to the entire families amazement.

One sunny Thursday evening, the designated day every week for ‘Kooking with Kento’, as you named it back in High School. The tradition formed when Nanami first made enough food for an exhausted young and Satoru one day after a particularly long and frustrating mission, and has been a weekly occurrence since. Nanami would come to the house, you and him would cook and then the family would eat together. This week, with it being a balmy April evening - you sat outside in the garden together, a bottle of wine split between you all and Akio on his Godfather’s lap. Mid-sentence, Kento was cut off as Akio reached up to grab his Uncle’s sunglasses off his face.

It was silent for a moment as the baby waved them around, before you and Satoru burst into cacophonous laughter.

Nanami couldn’t help the small smile as he fitted the glasses on the babies small face.

First word was unsurprising. A day trip out with his parents, sitting in a cafe as you and Satoru share two large slices of cake and milkshakes and Akio drools over the sight in from of him. He begins jabbing his little hand at the plate, poking you both in the face and babbling nonsense.

“You had some cake, ‘Kio!” You laugh.

“This is my cake. Papa’s cake.” Satoru says.

“Eh? Mama and Papa’s cake. ‘S mine too!” You pout, batting his fork away with yours.

“I’m bigger than you, so I should get about 70% of it.” He reasons.

“Absolutely not. I wanted my own slice, you insisted on sharing because it would be romantic so it’s a 50/50 split or go get your own, Satoru Gojo.” You glare. Cake’s a serious topic in your house.

“It is romantic!” He argues.

“I agree, it’s adorable, and I love that you suggested such a cute thing - what’s also adorable is cake. We split the cake 50/50, Satoru. It was literally in our wedding vows that all cakes be split in half so that we can both live happy lives.” You contribute, still sword fighting his fork.

“Cake!” Came an angry little voice.

“Mama’s cake!”

“Papa’s cake!”

There’s silence.

Akio is looking at you both.

You look at him, then each other. Tears spilling in both your eyes.

“Cake!” Akio claps, shouting the word again.

You both let out a sob. Hugging him and then each other and pressing kisses to every face at the table.

“As much as you want, sweet baby!” You say, feeding the 11 month old a bite of your cake.

“Any cake! All of it!” Satoru nods, beaming and ordering three more slices.

His first steps, came toward his father.

Satoru had been training with Megumi all afternoon in school, before they both got into his car and drove home to you and Akio. You had returned to work a month prior, continuing to teach the second years and had picked up Akio from your mom’s that afternoon before driving home.

You were sitting on the floor with your baby, playing with his blocks and reading him stories before the jingle of keys could be heard at the front door. Your son crawled out of your lap and toward the hallway, stopping at the coffee table as the door unlocked and in walked his father and older brother.

“Hi, my loves!” Satoru calls, smiling and blowing kisses toward you both as he takes off his sunglasses and coat.

“Hi mom.” Megumi calls.

Akio squeals, hearing the two voices, using the edge of the table to pull himself onto his feet as he’d been doing for a month now.

The two men come around the corner, and Megumi leans against the archway to the room and Satoru kneels down on his haunches as he always does to let Akio crawl to him.

However, nobody expected him to pull his hands away from the table and begin to take wobbly, determined steps toward him.

“Oh my god!” You gasp.

“Yes, baby! You got this! Come see papa!” Satoru calls, delight evident.

Megumi straightens up, walking around the side - ready to pounce at any sign of a tumble.

The baby makes his way just to his father’s feet on his unsteady feet before his legs give way and he tumbles straight into his father’s large, waiting arms.

The three of you crowd over him, cooing and kissing and crying (you and Satoru), and later when he walks toward Megumi - you record a video - a very precious video to save to the collection.

At 14 months, a trip to the playground reveals a lot.

You and Satoru, Megumi and Itadori (Nobara is shopping, unsurprisingly) are sitting having a picnic as you watch the baby toddle around the area playing with the giant abacus and building blocks, and thoroughly enjoying the sandpit.

You see his little head follow something, eyes locked intently on it. Following his line of sight, all you can see is a playhouse. A cute, wooden playhouse.

Looking to your side, you see your husband is staring at the same spot.

“Satoru?” You ask.

“He’s looking right at it.”

“Huh? The playhouse? Why’s he so focused on it?” You puzzle, there’s one in the garden at home so it’s not a new sight for the baby.

“No. There’s - Y/N - there’s a fly head in it.” Satoru says, eyes flicking between the boy and the playhouse.

Your head snaps, toward the baby.

You follow his line of sight, and sure enough he’s staring directly at the top left corner of the playhouse roof.

“Is it in the top left corner?” You ask Satoru.

He nods.

“Holy shit.” You whisper.

“He’s got it.” Satoru says, breathless in wonder.

“Huh? Got what?” Itadori asks through a mouthful of strawberries.

“Shut up, just watch.” Megumi elbows him.

“How…? I thought - ” You begin.

“It’s said to be impossible but… I always wondered with the strength of your cursed energy - combined with my bloodline, if it would create another one.” Satoru says, serious and thoughtful.

“He doesn’t have my cursed energy though? Only yours.” You ask.

“It’s only Gojo energy he has, yeah, but what Gojo energy would have been weakened by one parent being a less powerful sorcerer was bolstered by the fact you’re a special grade yourself. It strengthened my genes to create another one, fully powered.” He says, breathless in his awe.

Your jaw drops. Shocked.

Akio - has broken the mould.

Two wielders of the Six Eyes now exist in the world.

You look back at the baby, grabbing Satoru’s hand who squeezes it three times (I love you.) You squeeze it back four. (I love you too).

The baby pulls himself up. Toddling in the direction of the playhouse. You go to stand up, a flick of a finger from any adult or student sorcerer would exorcise a fly head. You’re pulled back down, onto your husband’s lap.

“They’re harmless alone. It won’t hurt him.” He says.

You know he’s right, and wouldn’t ever let anything hurt a hair on that baby’s head so you sit, leaning back against his chest.

As Akio approaches the playhouse, the fly head comes out and perches on the little bench beside it.

Akio stares at it, tilting his head like a curious kitten.

Itadori jumps up, ready to go fist fight in a playground - but Megumi pulls him down.

“Watch this.” Megumi says, quietly.

The fly head moves toward where Megumi’s divine dogs are flanking the baby and lands on Akio’s shoulder. He just looks at it, curious - until it pulls on his fluffy white hair. Without a sound, just a frown - and a smack of a pudgy fist - the fly head drops to the ground, fizzling into nothing.

You and Satoru just look on in awe, silent and amazed by your beautiful baby boy.

“He’s something special.” Satoru says, voice full of love.

“Course he is, he’s part of you.” You whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

Itadori is just sitting slack jawed.

“Did the baby just -” He mumbles.

“Welcome to the Gojo household.” Megumi smirks.

His first conscious choice of style came with a decision at two and a half. He marched into the living room where you sat, his papa’s head on your lap as you stroked his hair. Papa had the same hair as Akio, just shorter.

“Mama! Papa!” He says, standing with his hands on his hips.

“Yes, sir?” Satoru says, one eye open and saluting the child.

“Change my hair!” He says, determined.

Your heart nearly broke - hoping he wouldn’t ask for it to be cut - you adored his long white locks you tied in a little bun. Yet, if he wanted it cut - you’d agree.

“What do you want to do, ‘Kio?” You ask, still combing your hands through the head of hair on your lap, where your husband sat nuzzling the growing bump and whispering sweet nothings to you and the baby inside.

He pats the top of his head, looking at you both from in front of the fireplace.

“Up here! Like Uncle Soso!” He says, smiling.

You and Satoru just smile at him (relieved he’s okay with keeping his precious long hair).

“You want two little buns like Uncle Soso?” You confirm.

He nods, very assuredly.

“Your Uncle Soso’s hair is pretty fire, kid, good choice.” Satoru smiles at him, beckoning him to sit on his lap where he lays.

“Yeah, ‘s so fire.” The baby nods, smiling and grinning.

“Okay, how about we do it the next time we go see him at school?” You suggest.

The baby cheers and claps and tosses himself onto his father’s lap like an Olympian, thanks to his tall height for a 2 and a half year old and then hugs you both.

“Mama? Maybe we watch Toothless? Papa loves Toothless. As a s‘prise for him?” He whispers (he doesn’t, he’s got all the subtlety of his father).

“Oh, is it for Papa? I thought we watched How To Train Your Dragon for Akio?” You smirk.

“No - for papa.”

You look down at your husband.

“No. He’s right. It’s for papa.” Satoru confirms, smirking up at you both before flicking on the film as the three (four) of you curl up under a blanket.

Akio’s first little sibling was a day of great excitement for him. He sat, not patiently, on the floor of his ‘Uncle Soso’s’ apartment, playing with blocks and toy animals with him (his Uncle Soso was very fun to play with, he thought) and asking every 20 minutes if the baby had come. Every time, Uncle Soso would say “not yet, ‘Kio, but soon.”

When the phone rang, and Choso answered Megumi’s call saying the baby was here and it was time to come to the infirmary - he scooped up Akio and said,

“Wanna go meet your sister?”

Akio was enamoured with Mirai from the moment he laid eyes on her. She was so tiny, even tinier than his baby dolls and looked like a pretty snowflake. She had the same hair as him, white and fluffy but her eyes looked like his Mama’s. He kissed her softly on the forehead, trying to remember all the things ‘Gumi and Uncle Soso told him about being a good big brother.

He was so attentive, insisting on playing quietly in the same room as Mirai when she napped so he could keep an eye on her - and keeping a little cloth in his toy box so he could help Papa or Mama if she had too much milk. He would sit and tell her stories every night, trying to remember the ones Mama and Papa told him about the heroes who saved the world, the Knight with the Pink Hair (he thought that one was cool, since his Jiji (Yuuji) has pink hair), The Prince of Shadows, The Piercing Princess and the Wizard Kendo. He told her the love stories of the King and Queen in the stories too, he liked those characters a lot - The Honoured King and The Queen of The Forest. Sometimes, he would wake up in the morning and see Papa asleep, with Mirai on his broad chest and Mama asleep in bed and crawl into bed between them, holding their hands and kissing his baby sister, before drifting back to sleep with them.

The first secret he had to keep was the ring. He was 6 and ‘Gumi was sitting at the table with him, Mirai and their parents.

“Mom, dad - I - um… wanna show you guys something.” He said, awkwardly as ever.

Akio didn’t look up, his pasta was too good.

Well, he didn’t look up until he heard his Papa gasp and his mama shout ‘No fucking way!’.

On the table, in front of Megumi was a tiny black box with a gold ring inside. Whats so special about that? Mama and Papa both wear rings all the time.

“You’re gonna do it? You’re gonna ask him?” His mama asks, voice sounding funny.

“How? Is it super romantic? Oh my god, our baby boy is getting married!” His papa shouts.

“I haven’t asked him yet!” Megumi retorts, his face really red.

“Like he’d ever say no.” His dad rolls his eyes.

“Your dad’s right, ‘Gumi - he adores the ground you walk on! When are you going to ask him? Do you need any help? We can book out a restaurant or something for you!” You squeal in excitement.

“Tomorrow. I’m not going to do anything extravagant - you two always said your private, quiet proposal was really special so I’m going down that route.” He says, shrugging but face focused.

“What’s a posal?” Mirai asks, face covered in sauce.

“When you ask someone to marry you, ‘Rai.” Akio responds to her.

“How did you posal, mama and papa?” She asks, poking her dad in the arm.

“Your papa made a pretty picnic and we sat out in the garden in the summer and he gave me a pretty ring and asked if I would marry him. It was just us two, and it was perfect.” You say, tilting your head to kiss your husband, both softly smiling.

“Of course it was, everything I do is perfect - just look around this table. I’m the strongest.” Satoru nodded, winking.

“Of course I said yes, and we got married and that was 12 years ago! Then we had you two squirts.” You says, sticking out his tongue. You stood up, walking to put your arms around Megumi’s shoulders and kiss the top of his head, eyes teary and smiling.

“And she’ll never get away!” Satoru says, running to lift you up and over his shoulder, tickling your sides as you squeal, before he sits back down, now with you on his lap, arm around his neck. Papa and Mama were always touching, he liked seeing them cuddle, it made them both smile a lot.

“So ‘Gumi is gonna marry Jiji?” Mirai asks.

“I’m gonna ask him to, yeah. Is that okay with you two, because if we get married he’ll be your brother too.” Megumi asks, serious.

“Yes please! Please, please, please!” Akio pleads.

“Get married tomorrow!” Mirai squeals.

“I’ll ask him tomorrow, how about that?” Megumi smirks.

“Deal.” Akio says, nodding.

The next time Megumi came over for dinner, three days later, Yuuji was wearing the gold ring.

#submission #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #family formations extras #dad!gojo

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honeybunny-sawamura · 9 months

Text

Title: Under the Christmas Tree Pairing: Daichi Sawamura x Fem! Reader Genre: Fluff (PG) Synopsis: Just a lil birthday fic for Daichi. Gets a lil heated but nothing too sexy. Domesticated fluffs Warnings: time skip, established relationship: married with children, holiday season: leaning more towards Christmas, intimacy, Word Count: 900+ Unbeta'd: hope it's alright OxO A/N: it's been FOREVERRRRRRRR since i wrote. but i can't be skipping my love's birthday. so here's something lovely and short for my favorite captain.

“Oh? I didn’t realize there's one more present that needed to be unwrapped.”

Daichi’s chocolate brown eyes move away from the kaleidoscope of lights, tinsels, and pine needles to see you grinning down at him with eyebrows wiggling in a playful tease. His lips turn up to match yours in his own toothy grin and lifts a hand to beckon you with his forefinger.

“You’ll get to unwrap me a little later. For now, come join me under here,”

You don’t hesitate to lay under the tree with your husband; shimmying closer to him so you’re both shoulder to shoulder as you two admire the Christmas tree in a different perspective. Originally, it had been your idea: finding comfort in the prismatic view of the decorated pine after sprucing up the house for the holiday seasons. The sight was mesmerizing and it had Daichi finding you and your two sons cuddling under said tree. Soon, it just became a thing in the the Sawamura household: spending time laying around the tree, talking, giggling, wishing, and basking in the holiday magic.

“The boys are gonna be sad when we gotta get rid of it,” you say. You hear Daichi sigh next to you and you tilt your head so you can gently bump it with his.

“I know, but it’s already starting to lose it’s green color and without the presents, you can find so many needles that’s fallen,”

“Mmm, I’m pretty sure one’s poking my ear right now,”

You two stay silent for a while; just looking up into the tree and listening to the soft music that’s playing on the TV. It's comforting, matching the soft quietness of a snowy night. Daichi slips his hands into yours, intertwining fingers, and then brings it up to brush his lips to the back of your hand.

“Thank you, for the scarf you knit for me. It’s hard to tell that you’ve never done it before. I’m over the moon that you chose your first knitting project for my birthday,” He turns his head to look at you, lights making his eyes glitter and shine, and a smile that has your heart fluttering like when you had your very first date with him. You shake your head in modesty but you smile along with him.

“It’s got some loose sections and the volleyball looks wonky but that green has always been your color,”

“Honey, it’s perfect. I’m wearing it everyday until summer comes. And I thought you said dark blue was my color,”

“Dark blue and green. And Daichi please, you’ll get hot under it in the springtime… You’ll wear it to work too?”

“Of course! I want you to wrap it around me before I get out the door,” Daichi huffs earnestly that it makes you giggle. You turn on your side so you can face him and your husband mirrors you.

“I already put on your tie in the morning. Soon, you’re gonna be asking me to dress you!” you poke at him teasingly, no real heat to your words. You love being in charge of picking his tie and getting it on him. The intimacy it gives you just before he leaves you for the day was something you wouldn’t trade the world for. His loving stare, the rise and fall of his chest, his hands that are sometimes on your waist or tucking a strand of hair away from your face; it was a moment just for you and him.

Daichi’s chuckle breaks you from that sliver of daydreaming, warmth rising to your face when you see the way his eyes darken a little and he shuffles closer to you.

“You have no problem UNdressing me though, so what’s wrong with dressing me in the morning” he taunts then laughs when you squeak out his name. Daichi chortles out apologies as you mock-scold him about saying lewd things aloud with children in the house even though said kids were tucked away in bed for the night.

“Weren’t you the one saying you needed to unwrap me, hmm?” Daichi counters as he untangles his hand from yours so he can set it on your hip then have it follow the curve of your thigh. Sparks ignite in your core as you watch the way his pupils bloom to have his eyes go darker and you swear you can feel the heat your husband gives out get hotter. You place a hand on his chest to try and confirm this but you get distracted by the eager thumps of his heart. This time, his name comes out of you like a temptation. Daichi licks his lips and your eyes follow your tongue before you confess,

“I have another birthday present for you, honey. Though it’s best we have you unwrap it in the bedroom,”

You both get eager grins on your face and Daichi quickly steals a kiss from you that earns him an elated squeal from you. Just as he’s quick to kiss you, he’s quick to get up from under the Christmas tree and tug you up too. You feel giddy at his eager mood with butterflies dancing in your chest and tummy. Like naughty teenagers, you and Daichi hush giggles behind free hands while scurrying over to your shared bedroom. All lights are turned off except for those on the Christmas tree; winking and twinkling for a special birthday and the new year to come.

Tagging some moots who I think would like this too: @tsumtsumland @vs-redemption @ceo-of-daichi @belladonnafleur @undersero @kingdaddydaichi @toonpai @vexx97

#daichi honey #daichi x reader #daichi x you #daichi x y/n #daichi sawamura #sawamura daichi #daichi sawamura x reader #daichi fluff #haikyuu daichi #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu fic

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ladylooch · 1 year

Note

Omg it’s okay!!! My request was a smut with Nico and she has a breeding kink after playing with timo and Emma’s kid. And he sucks her tits a LOT. 🫠 and while they’re fucking he dirty talks about having a baby

-🌸 anon

A/N: Message me when you see what I did ☠️ Everyone say thank you 🌸 for smutty Nico and Lexi making our baby, Lucie.

Word Count: 2.0k

From this lil AU.

I am not sure how much longer I can take this.

Our nephew, Lio, is in love with Nico today. He wants nothing to do with either of his parents. The result of Nico carting this baby everywhere is my fertile ovaries bouncing in my body. They ache for Nico until it spreads like consuming wildfire across my skin, burying deep into my bones. The only cure is getting railed.

I push out a heavy breath, catching Emma’s attention.

“You good? You seem like you’re anxious.”

“I- uh.. Yeah. Your brother with Lio is really cute.” Emma shields her eyes, looking to the pool where Nico and Timo supervise Lio’s swim time. He’s wearing little floaties and a floppy, fish bucket hat. Nico is holding him outwards, trolling him through the water as he laughs.

“Yeah that is precious.” Emma whines. “If I didn’t remember labor so distinctly, I might pull the plug and beg for another.” She shrugs, going back to her magazine.

Pulling the birth control plug would be so easy for me right now. I just wouldn’t start my new pack. We could dive right into bed together and he could… My mind gets lost in the fantasy of him and I working together for something so special in our fancy hotel room. Nico has been talking about babies more and more the last few weeks. We have been spending so much time with Timo, Emma, and Lio. The endless baby snuggles and giggles have turned into a craving for us both. Our apartment feels too quiet. Our life has something missing. But babies are a big change. And neither of us has had the courage to spit it out loud yet.

Lio’s crying pulls me out of my daydream. The three boys walk towards us. The upset baby reaches out for his mom with big, crocodile tears, trying to wiggle from Nico’s grasp.

“Oh sweet boy. Come here. Are you tired?” Emma pulls her son into her chest, stroking at his cheek as she gets him ready to nurse. Timo tosses a thin blanket onto the two of them and sits beside Emma on her chaise.

“He’s really tired. He keeps getting water in his eyes from rubbing his fists into them.”

“Yeah, we should go back to the room for a bit.”

“Honestly, I could use a nap too. This kid tired me out being his chauffeur all day.” Nico tells us, yawning at the end.

“He loves you so much.” Emma smiles at her little brother. “You’re daddy material for sure.” Her distinct wink at me has my lips pursing with a giggle.

We all head towards the bank of elevators. Nico asks if I want to grab a drink at the bar, but I shake my head. I am also sleepy from laying in the sun doing absolutely nothing, and laying with him in bed sounds like pure perfection. He is relieved when I say no. Inside our room, I run to the bed, jumping under the covers as Nico puts our pool stuff to the side. I snuggle in deep on his pillow. He chuckles, pushing me over so he can climb in.

“I wanna share this with you.” It’s a California King and fairly feasible. He settles on the other side, turned my way so we can look at each other. I think about telling him my desires from the pool, but his black lashes are battling sleep and it’s not the time.

Nico wakes me up an hour later with a gentle squeeze of my butt. Then, his lips begin to pepper kisses along my cheeks.

“Hey, Emma just called. They are ready to head back down. Do you want to go or stay here?”

“Let’s go.” I nod, stretching out. I feel recharged from my nap and ready for another margarita.

Nico heads to the bathroom then comes out, double checking the pool bags.

“Oh, Lio’s hat is with us.” He picks it up, showing me the floppy bucket hat that was responsible for the ovary bouncing. “I can’t wait to buy our kids cute stuff like this. I mean, come on.” He chuckles, tossing it to me. I catch it, tracing an orange fish with googly eyes. My eyes go back to his as he ruffles around in the bags some more, checking the sunscreen supply. He does a double take when he sees the look in my eyes.

“Lex?”

“Neeks, I want you to get me pregnant. I want your baby in me like now.” The words fly out of my mouth suddenly. I clasp my hand over my mouth in shock. Then force myself to continue because the words touched air and I have an ache that will not let me breathe if he doesn’t soothe it. “I want our babies to grow up with Em and Timo’s kids. Let’s just have a whole parade of them together.”

“Are you serious?”

“I’m so serious. Drop the bags and put a baby in me.”

With no hesitation, Nico empties his hands. He rushes across the room to me, lifting me up into his arms as we aggressively grope at each other. Tongues lap at each other as Lio’s fish hat falls to the ground at our feet.

“Please. Please.” I beg him again. “Watching you with Lio. It’s… done something to me. My brain chemistry is fucked. I don’t know.”

“Damn, Lex.” He moans. “This is so hot.” He groans back as I rub against him, squeezing him over his swim suit. “Are you sure? I need you to be so sure.”

“I am, babe. Please.”

“God, say ‘please put a baby in me’.”

“Please.” I whine earnestly. “Put your baby in me. Wanna make you a daddy, Neeks.”

Nico grunts out in earnest, then puts me on the edge of the bed. He reaches for my bikini bottoms, pulling them off and tossing them behind him. They land on the corner of the TV. I laugh, then suck in a surprised gasp as Nico strokes a finger through my slick flesh.

“Soaked. Baby.” He moans. “Are you off the pill?”

“Um, well, I was supposed to start today but I haven’t taken it.”

“So this is… no birth control at all?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck.” He moans, then pulls himself out of his blue swim trunks. He is rigid, veins protruding against the taut skin. His fingers stroke his hard length, oozing pre-cum out of his head. I untie the white cover up for him. He leans down, stroking himself still while sucking on my nipple through my bikini top. His fingers brush my clit, rubbing gracious circles while I press against his hand.

“Want you inside of me.” I moan, tangling my fingers through his locks as he sucks my other nipple. His mouth opens wider, sucking so much of my flesh into his mouth until his teeth tighten into a gentle bite. My ohmygod is lost in the air of the room, stifled out by the lack of oxygen in my lungs from Nico’s touch. I reach my hand down, encircling his throbbing cock with him and stroking in rhythm together.

“Gonna cum on your stomach if we keep going.” He says, pulling away from my grasp to run his engorged head along my clit.

“We can’t have that. Need you to cum inside of me.”

“Lex, I did not think you had this in you.” He chuckles, poising at my entrance as he rests one hand on the bed by my head.

“Look what made me into, Nico Hischier.”

“I’m so lucky.” He says against my lips as he beings to move inside of me. The intensity of his entrance is dulled by the sweetness of his lips on mine. He consumes my moans. “Gonna have the best mama for my baby.” I reach for the hem of his shirt, shoving it up his abdomen and trying to get it off his head.

“Help.” I am desperate to touch his bare skin. He pauses inside of me, taking his shirt off and knocking his hat off too. I bite my lip as he comes down to kiss me again. His hand shoves my bikini top up my breasts to expose them.

“I love your tits. I hope they get bigger.”

“They will.” I moan. “And then you can’t have them.”

“Fuck. That’s gonna be tough.” He works himself deeper into me, watching my face for my head to do… that. It falls to the side as my face scrunches up in need. “Need your help to cum, sweets.”

“Don’t stop…” I whisper as my hand falls to my clit, rubbing in sync with his thrusting. “Nico.”

“I love you, baby. Come for me.”

His words make the ache explode into white hot heat in my core. My legs shake against his sides where he has my knees pressed back. His hands come up, shoving my thighs into my stomach as he fucks himself deep. I reach down, gripping his shaft and stroking forward as he releases cum inside of me. Nico squeeze my hand as we pull more out of him, bucking his hips with a wide open, gasping mouth. He exhales sharply, gently easing out, still dribbling a bit from his tip.

“I love you too.” I finally say, panting in unison with him as my hands grip both his forearms. His hands hold my hips in place as he works towards recover.

Nico crawls onto the bed with me, laying beside me as his right hand covers my belly. I hold his hand there, all three of them rising and falling with my fast breathing. We stare at the ceiling together. Nico’s thumb begins to trace over my skin. I feel emotional tears pinching at my eyes. Nico and I are trying. This is real. We are going to make a baby. Our baby.

“I want this with you so bad, Neeks. That wasn’t just talk.”

“I know. I do too.” He assures, rolling to his side and kissing my shoulder. I turn my face to him so he can kiss my lips. “We should do that a few more times.”

“Yeah. Like at least nine before we leave.” Nico grins.

“Let’s make it 12 for lucky 13 total.” I laugh as he strokes his fingers along my belly again. “I’m going to spoil you.”

“You already do.”

“Get ready. It’s going to be even more.”

Nico’s phone begins to ring in the pool bag. He tucks himself back into his shorts, then goes to grab it.

“What the fuck are you two doing?” Timo’s voice comes through the speaker. Nico makes eye contact with me and we share a silent laugh.

“Sorry, we fell back asleep.”

“Hurry up, Lio is crabby because he wants Uncle Ni snuggles.”

“Okay. Five minutes. We’ll be back at the pool.”

He clicks the end button, stuffing his phone into his swim trunks.

“Uncle Ni gonna be Daddy Ni.” I grin, grabbing my swimsuit bottoms from the TV corner and sliding them on. Nico closes his eyes, shoulders drawn down while his hands go to cover his lap. “Did daddy get you?”

“Yeah.”

“Nico Hischier, my baby daddy.” I sing-song as I dance across the room to him. He pulls me into his arms as I go on my tip toes to kiss him. He helps me retie my bathing suit top on and close my cover up. His fingers splay out on my ribs as he looks down at me when we are done re-dressing together.

“Today is another moment in my life I couldn’t imagine not having you a part of.” I soften, melting into his body at his sweet words. “No one else I want to do this with but you.”

Life with Nico is an unbelievable dream. Nobody wake me.

#what my world spins around au #nico hischier fic #nhl fan fiction #hockey writing #my writing #hockey fan fiction #writing request

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