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dcxdpdabbles · 5 months

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So Danny is just a bunch of good that takes a humanoid shape, and we've seen him stretch and warp himself. What is sometimes he just leaves bits of himself behind. He has restoration so he can heal himself and others so when he realizes he left a foot behind he just grows a new one.

Batman: We've found more of the meta, 3 left feet all genetically identical, either were dealing with a cloning operation or someone using a regenerative meta as an organ farm. The most recent finds washed up between Gotham and metropolis.

Meanwhile Danny: I've gotta visit Dani more Madrid was beautiful can't wait to show Jazz the photos, tried to land and eats it, Damn it I though I fixed this!

Danny loves his new power- he likes to call it "Play-Boo" as a pun on playdough because it allows him to shift and change his body as he sees fit.

It was hard to mentally change his appearance as his core was tied to his idea of himself. Still, he can make his hair longer at will, shift to a younger or older version of himself, and even slightly change his coloration, though that takes a bit more concentration.

Danny is sadly unable to shape-shift into someone else. He thinks being able to regenerate is an okay trade-off. Especially when Danny accidentally leaves bits of himself behind with his new warping technique.

It's not the kind of warping he would like- seeing as he could only go a few yards from his original spot- but he hopes with time and practice, he will be able to fling himself from one side of the country to the other, much like opening portals.

But unlike the portals, he won't have to step into the ghost zone as a layaway.

One day, he'll be able to think, "Star City!" and bam will be there without having to destabilize his whole body or lose limbs. Or some internal organs. Like his left kidney.

Which was currently somewhere in Gotham as his warping has developed to the point that he can send himself to the area within eyesight, and he had traveled to metropolis in this method instead of flying to try to perfect it.

"Shoot," He grumbles, falling into a booth across from Dani. She had asked that he visit the big city with her, do a few sights, and then the two would fly downstate to check out some national parks.

"Lost something again?" She asks, sipping the soda she had ordered while waiting for him. Dani had been in the city for about three days and had fallen in love with the diner they were eating at.

She insisted they meet up there just so Danny could try some of their roast beef sandwiches. The favorite food of the two siblings.

"My left Kidney." He sighs, patting his side. Thank goodness his Play-Boo allowed him to not feel pain. He hated to have to feel every time he lost one of his body parts. "I need to eat my troubles away until a new one grows back."

"I'm not paying for your meal."

"But Dani! I'm down a kidney!"

She snorts. "It'll grow back by the time we leave, and you know it. But fine, you big baby, I'll pay for lunch. You have to cover the diner."

Satisfied, he lets her call over a waitress who quickly takes their orders and vanishes to the back, where the cook will likely make "the best damn roast beef" for him. He leans back, asking Dani about her travels.

She eagerly starts talking about the local art she has taken pictures of. At one point, her travels had turned into photo albums, documenting everything she saw and experienced.

She made some money this way, selling some of her photos, but mostly, Dani preferred to keep them for herself or the family.

As she talked about the light reflecting on some large News building- the daily planet- and the great lengths she had to go to get close enough to capture the sunlight, the door to the dinner chimed.

Two men in suits ushered in, one wearing a dark blue that seemed far cheaper than the deep black of his companion. Danny instinctively turned towards the sound, but he quickly looked away as the two men found a seat in a booth furthest away from him.

"I met this guy, Jimmy, who promised to have my photos submitted for a junior photographer contest. It's to help promote tourism, so it's based on the "Metropolis' beauty," but first place is five hundred!" Dani eagerly tells him, her eyes sparkling.

"I know you'll win. You'll make a name for yourself in no time as the best photographer of our era." Danny smiles at his little sister. He lowers his voice "Maybe with that money you win we won't have to sell my organs for a while."

She laughs, adding to the joke like it's second nature, "But you're so fun to harvest! Side's it's not like Vlad will allow you to walk away from the operation. He already has two more kidney orders from Gotham waiting for you."

Danny grimces. "I just lost one this morning. Why does he overbook me so much."

"I can do it if you-"

"Not on your life. I can regerate. You can only cry."

Dani kicks him hard in the shin. She waves her coffee spoon at him like a wizard banishing a wand. "Are you calling me a crybaby?"

"Well, I'm not calling you a cry-lady." He laughs as she scoffs. She opens her mouth to say something when her eyes lock with something over his shoulder. Her face closes down at once, hardening into someone who has traveled through the roughest parts of cities and towns.

Danny used to be worried that her instance of traveling alone at such a young age would ruin her childlike wonder and innocence, but he knew it would be worse to keep her at home.

Even with Vlad finally getting the much-needed help, the fact that Dani has existed for two years now didn't mean she was comfortable with being tied down.

Twisting around, he doesn't see anything out of the ordinary. The two men are casually eating their meals by the far window- too far for them to hear, the waitress is sitting behind the counter flipping through a magazine, and the chef can be seen through a little window making something at his gril.

What had alarmed Dani so much?

"We have to go," She hisses in ghost speech, eyes never leaving the man in the blue suit. Was it him? He seems to unthreatening with his big bulky glasses and easy smile. "I don't know why, but I don't like that guy's vibe."

Well, he won't argue with her about her gut feelings. Those were never important to ignore. "Let's take the rest of this to go."

She raises her hand, calling over the waitress, flipping open her wallet to leave enough to cover their bill and leave a generous tip. Danny quickly gathers their food in take-home boxes, keeping his body in front of Dani to block the men's view of her.

He's grateful that he had pulled on his hood, as his ears had gotten cold from the warping. With the fact he never turned around once since they walked in and his trusty hood, his face has been kept hidden from the men.

A small victory.

Hopefully, he won't see them again after this.

"Come on." He tells Dani, as she quickly gathers her stuff. "Vlad is going to have my arms and legs if we late meet him. I don't want to be just a torso again."

"I mean, it's your fault for trying to run away." She sighs. "You know how he gets. At least you didn't have to entertain his guests."

"Yeah laying in a dark room hoping to regrow my limbs is much better than letting those freaks touch me." Danny agrees thinking back to the big gala Vlad had invited them to.

To show goodwill and try to move past their hostility, the Fentons' children- Jazz, Dan, Danny, and Dani- had all agreed to go with him, under the condition that they be on their best behavior.

Danny had been running late due to a ghost attack and had chosen to use his wrapping far past the agreed limitation his parents, and Vlad had set for him.

He got to Vlad's castle but none of his limbs had followed him. Mom had been so outraged by his reckless behavior he's been grounded staying in one of the guest rooms without tv to "think about what could have happened!"

Dad and Vlad had merely nodded to their wife's punishment for their child. (And he was still getting used to the idea of Vlad being married to his parents.)

Jazz, Dan, and Dani were left to the gala, where Jazz had intellectual conversations with college professors Vlad was funding or where Dan was talking up some pretty men and women with a drink in hand, Dani as the youngest was left to affluent old ladies pinching her cheeks and giving her backhand compliments on being a "lady."

The Dannies hated being touched by strangers, and those higher-class old ladies had no concept of personal space.

"Don't worry, I'm almost too old soon." Dani chirps, holding the door open for him. "Soon Vlad will have to find other kids to flaunt in front of rich people."

"That would be the day." The two exit the dinner, switching the conversation to the idea of dessert- deciding to search on their phones a local frozen yogurt place.

Neither notice the two men- one whose fork has crumbled in his grip and another who is clicking away on his phone with a look of outer disgust on his face

"Bruce?"

"I'm already messaging Babs. She's following them with the city cameras as we speak. Don't worry, Clark, this "Vlad" isn't going to get away with it."

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Practice makes perfect Au #Basically Clark started heard them with his superhearing #He thought it was cute when she talked about the photo contest that quickly grew into alarm at the rest of the convo #Misunderstandings all around #Vlad married Jack and Maddie two years ago #Now he the chill step dad #Danny is 16 #Dani is 14 #Jaz is 18 #and Dan is 17

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politemenacephd · 3 months

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The Surrogate (Part One)

Miguel O'Hara X Peter B. Parker X GN!Reader (+18)

Part two Series Content: Planned pregnancy, Breeding kink, PinV sex, Oral sex, Threesome, Web knotting, Aftercare, Possible Angst/fluff.

Miguel and Peter want a third child, and apparently they've run out of options. That is, except for you, their friend and colleague. They offer to cover everything, and the pay is life-changing. There's just one catch: they went to concieve naturally.

notes: i am working on arachnophilia, shits jst kinda rough, but i started this a while ago, enjoy x

‘You want what?!’

You almost spat out your drink in shock, unsure if you’d really heard what you’d just heard correctly. It was a miracle you didn’t accidentally spit alcohol into your companions faces.

You were sat in a booth at the bar all the spiders went to in Nueva York when off duty. It was pristine and white like almost everything else in this world, with floating tables and neon lights adorning the walls in various space themed shapes.

You’d been here a couple times before yourself, but tonight was different.

You’d been brought here by two of your friends from the Spider Society; Peter, one of the older ones, and Miguel, the head of the entire institute and Peter’s very open partner. They’d been incredibly cryptic about why they’d wanted to meet, with Peter simply insisting over and over that it was important, that they needed you to hear them out, and though you’d rolled your eyes a bit as he followed you around the HQ like a lost dog you’d eventually relented to his pleading.

You were now very aware of why they’d been so cryptic.

As you wiped away the small dribble of drink left sliding down your chin, Miguel and Peter continued to watch you in silence. Miguel was fixed with his usual sombre expression while Peter beamed at his side, hands clasped on the table in an inviting, open manner. It was the strangest contrast.

‘Just, think about it!’ Peter said. ‘That’s all we’re asking!’

‘No, no—wait, so I heard correctly?’ you stammered. Peter and Miguel shot each other a look before turning back to you in unison. After some nudging from Peter, Miguel forced a similar patient smile onto his face.

‘Yes. You, heard correctly’ he said. You gabbed at them both.

‘I—So, you, want me to be your surrogate?’ you repeated dumbly. The two men nodded.

‘W…. why?’ you asked, your voice audibly wheezing as you darted between the two. The two men just glanced at each other. They seemed almost dumbfounded that you would ask such a question, like they hadn’t anticipated your immediate acceptance.

‘Well, we… We love the girls, so much, and—we just, we want another one’ Peter said. ‘It’s all we talk about at home! Every night, how May and Gabi deserve a sibling, and—recently they started talking about it too, and—we can’t tell them no!’

‘But, I mean—sure, that’s great, but Why me? Why are you coming straight to me? Have you guys ruled out adoption, or… I mean I’m just, surprised? Or, confused? Definitely confused’ you replied slowly.

‘Ah, no, we haven’t… ruled it out, per say’ Peter said with a shrug. ‘Just—it’s, hard to work out adoption when uh—’

‘Peter isn’t from this universe’ Miguel bluntly interrupted. You could hear the slight sadness in his voice. ‘And—with my genetics, and my background, it—the government would never allow it.’

‘Oh… Oh, I see. But, why me then?’ you stammered. You were on good terms with the two men, that was true enough, but you hadn’t thought you were this close. It was so out of left field as well.

‘We—ran an analysis on whose genetics would be best suited for the role’ Miguel muttered. You noticed that he looked embarrassed to be admitting this. ‘Because of what happened to me, how my DNA was spliced, it’s tricky. I’m not genetically compatible with a lot of people. You were, one of five candidates, and we believed you were the best.’

You couldn’t help but wonder who the other candidates were, but more so you were stuck on the idea of needing to be genetically compatible. You knew Miguel was unusual, but, that unusual?

‘So, you came to me first, huh?’ you asked, lightly stirring your drink.

‘Yes!’ Peter hissed. He was leaning in over his lap with his fists tucked to his chest, his eyes wide and desperate. ‘Yes! Because we trust you!’

You couldn’t help but smile at his sweet insistence. ‘Hey, guys, I like you too, but—’

‘We’ll compensate you’ Peter insisted. ‘We will! Miguel will pay WHATEVER you want. The entire time we’ll pay for housing, food, medical care. You will be absolutely safe. And, along with that, we’ll give you a full payment after the babies born as thanks! We’ll—’

‘Hey, hey, woah!’ You raised your hands to try and slow the man down as he began physically crawling over the table in his excitement. Miguel grunted and silently grabbed his collar, dragging him back to his seat. Peter squirmed a little in his partner’s tight grip. ‘I’m just explaining, I—’

‘Look, that—that’s all amazing. I just—’ You were silenced as Peter reached over once more to slap down a cheque on the table. You darted your eyes at the two men before lifting it up.

‘Holy…. Shit’ you hissed.

It was a lot. A LOT of money. Not so much as to be impossible or unreasonable, but enough to make your stomach drop.

‘I—you’d, give me this?’ you stammered.

‘Yes! For your labour and time’ Peter said. ‘Fair compensation.’

You paused. This amount of money was enough to make a serious, permanent difference in your life. You’d told yourself you could cope, that you could just put up with the status quo, but this changed everything. And what, all you had to do was carry their baby for nine months?

Peter leaned closer. ‘Are you, just not comfortable with pregnancy, or—’

‘No’ you said, eyes still fixed on the cheque. ‘No, it’s—fine, just… Are we, doing this like, casually?’

‘I’m willing to pay for us to both have lawyers. You can choose yours, so you’re comfortable, just bill me ahead of time for the cost. We’ll draft up contracts to be sure no boundaries are broken, and to ensure you have a legal right to what we say we owe you, and of course with clauses to protect your personal autonomy’ Miguel explained. Man, when he talked business he was so commanding, you thought.

‘Huh. Okay. I mean… I, I guess I, would be fine with that’ you muttered back.

‘I understand this would be a large undertaking’ Miguel said, his body leaning a little closer. You watched with wide and curious eyes as his arm came down over the table. You were fixated on the bulge of his bicep, nearly the size of your head now bursting from the seam of his slim fit shirt. It made you a little dizzy, as did the thick, dark hair across his forearm. You watched his calloused fingers drumming on the table, revelling in the clack of his talons.

Peter must have seen you eyeing him because he rushed to hide his smug smile. He knew you were giving in.

‘I’m taking it seriously. You will be compensated, you will be cared for. I just need to know that you understand what you’re getting into. We… Trust you, well enough. That’s why we’re asking you. We trust that you’d have our best interests as heart, just as we’d have yours’ Miguel said slowly. You nodded.

‘Okay. Sure. So, do we do invitro, or—’

The way their faces changed caused you to stutter on your words. They glanced at each other, their faces strained, as if they dreaded what they had to say next. Miguel pumped his brow once before turning away, leaving Peter to sigh and address you alone. Clearly Miguel didn’t trust himself to deliver whatever the bargain was.

‘We… Ideally, we, would like a… natural, conception’ Peter said, his voice dipping slightly on the word ‘natural.’

You felt all the blood rush from your head, only to rise back up and fill your cheeks with a pulsating warmth. Natural? Conception?

‘So… You, would want to get me pregnant—’

‘Physically. By us’ Miguel said. You hated how you shuddered slightly at his voice, at that smooth, husky, sombre tone. It slid down your ears like silk.

‘It’s just, our preference’ Peter explained with a lopsided smile. ‘Miguel’s not a fan of, sterile environments like an invitro lab, brings back bad memories you know? And—well we don’t like the idea of anyone having access to his genes, or mine, that’s bad news. Plus, it’s less stress on you, theoretically. No doctors poking you, or injecting thing, blegh. You know. You know, of course you know.’

You nodded along slowly as he spoke. I mean, it made sense. You had felt some concern when it was first brought up but they both seemed sincere, like this was just the best option, and they seemed so excited. You decided to continue entertaining this idea.

‘Ah… Sure. So, would it just be, one, of you? Like we work out who we want, or—’

‘Well, I mean, we’re not fussed about who the biological father is’ Peter said, his lip tilting into a shy half-smile. ‘It can be either of us. But, chances of success are higher if, we… both, are, trying.’

You raised both brows as you slowly realized what he was coyly implying. ‘You—so, both of you? You’d, both be having sex with me?’

‘Yyyyeaahh’ Peter said. His dorky smile was so annoyingly sweet, you thought glumly, especially on such a handsome face. You always struggled to say no to him. ‘It’s just, like we said, ensure it happens quicker.’

‘And you’re both fine with this?’

‘Yes! We discussed it before, I made the big guy go to therapy first’ Peter said, playfully tugging on Miguel’s arm as the man stoically stared into the distance. He was putting on a stern face but he was clearly endeared by Peter’s affectionate attitude. ‘Its fine! It’s easier, with you being a friend, because you know us and you respect our relationship already.’

‘I sure do’ you said with a slight laugh.

‘See? Exactly! But yes, we talked about it, we know it’s just business. Well, I mean—not to say, it can’t be fun, I mean that’s what they say right? Making the baby is the fun part—’

‘Peter, please’ Miguel groaned between gritted teeth.

‘What? What! What did I say?’ Peter whined. You stifled your laughter as the two bickered.

‘What I’m saying is, we wouldn’t expect you to just, lie on your back like a brood mare and, uh—just, put up with it’ Peter said in a hushed voice as he returned to you. ‘We’re happy to both be involved, we’re happy to, make sure you’re enjoying yourself too, just—we’ll work out the boundaries.’

Again, you nodded slowly. It was a lot to take in, but they seemed to understand that.

‘Just… Just, gimme a minute’ you asked as you picked up your drink. Miguel nodded while Peter went into a ramble about how fine that was, words which you quickly tuned out as you disassociated into your own thoughts.

It was all happening so fast. You supposed you’d have time after this to work it out, though, They said there’d be contracts drawn up, that would take time. Just… did you want to do this?

Having the baby sounded scary, but as they said it’d be around the clock care. With the head of the spider society and all his equipment on hand it’d be hard to imagine something going wrong. You did also trust the two of them, they were your friends and had proven themselves to be good men. Well, most of the time.

And it wasn’t that you were opposed to sleeping with either of them. They were unbelievably attractive, each in their own unique way. Miguel was gorgeous, a top heavy giant with beautiful eyes and such a deep and expressive face, and Peter had that sweet DILF charm about him. They both did, really.

So what was the hang up? Really, WAS there a hang up? It felt like there should be one, but, the more you thought about it, the more you realized you couldn’t find one.

9 months of work was rough, real rough, but you’d be cared for to the max. You’d be paid an extraordinary amount, enough to change your life. You’d be done and over, a clean cut single job once it was done, and supposedly you’d have your own lawyer to ensure you were protected.

Should everything go to plan… It sounded, almost perfect.

You just had to suck up the courage to lie down and let these two men put a baby in you. The moment you contemplated the thought, your face started to heat up, and you rushed to take a drink to cool it down.

“Okay. Ah, can I… Speak?” You asked, awkwardly calling back their attention. The two men turned to you in unison.

“Okay…” you said slowly, before taking another, conclusive breath. “Okay. I’m in. If—”

‘OH! YES, THANK YOU!”

Your response was cut short as Peter flung himself over the table and wrapped you into a bear hug, an embrace so tight that you could barely breath. Miguel simply offered a sympathetic, if slightly exasperated smile over Peter’s back, before helping to claw the man back once more. “Thank you, thank you- oh this means so much to us!” Peter stammered, ignoring your attempts to quiet him. You could feel other people staring across the bar now and it was becoming quite distracting.

“Yeah, yeah, just- Okay, I happy to start the process. I do want that lawyer, uh- not that I don’t trust you guys, but, like you said it’s a big deal’ you said. Miguel grunted approvingly.

‘I wouldn’t have wanted you for the job if you hadn’t accepted that’ he replied, idly glancing at his nails. ‘I’d only accept someone who was, well… Smart enough to set boundaries, even if we are friends.’

‘Right, right. Good. That’s- good’ you said. At this point your mind was racing. You’d accepted the offer, but, what now? It’d probably be a while before any action happened but the sudden, daunting realization that action *would* happen hit you like a truck. You glanced over to where Miguel and Peter were now deep in conversation.

God, they were both huge. Huge. Miguel especially was enormous, nearly 6ft 9 with that thick neck and toned upper torso, the glint of his chiselled collar bone gleaming beneath the neon bar lights. Peter wasn’t as muscular but he was still tall, nearly as tall as Miguel, and he had that quiet, unsuspecting dad-bod strength about him.

You felt your shoulders hunch a little. You had no idea what to expect going forward here, all you knew is that—

‘Hey, sorry, are you gonna finish this those?’

You jumped back to reality to find Peter pointing across you at the table. Your eyes slowly followed his finger, which you realized was pointing at a half-finished bowl of fries you’d got when you arrived after missing dinner. Your eyes shot back up.

‘Uh… I mean, probably not, no’ you said. Peter didn’t say anything more; he just made that sweet, pleading puppy dog face and tilted his head a little. You and Miguel both sighed in unison, but you willingly slid them over to him.

“Oh thank you—” Peter said before his words were turned to garbled mess as he finished the bowl. You turned awkwardly back to Miguel instead. “I’ll send the paperwork over tomorrow” Miguel said, pre-empting your immediate thoughts. “We’re in no rush, so, we’ll work out the details at your pace.” ‘Aha, ah- sure. Thanks. I mean I’m, assuming it’ll be a long process anyway, right?” you replied.

Miguel tilted his head a little. ‘You mean, the pregnancy? Yes, though, I’ve heard it goes quicker than you think. We’ll do all we can to—’

‘OH, no! Not like, the pregnancy specifically” you elaborated, hands now raised. That drew Peter to look up from devouring everyone else’s meal, his eyes curiously fixed on you. Miguel’s stony red gaze remained locked in much the same way.

‘I mean the uh… The, baby making process’ you explained, giving a shrug to try and ease the awkwardness of saying such a thing. Miguel didn’t flinch though; he continued to stare, his head slightly tilted. ‘Like, making a baby can take… months, up to a year even. We’ll have to work around that timeframe I assume’ you said, finishing your point in a rather stilted manner.

Peter turned to look at Miguel. The neon lights were blaring at his back, shadowing his face until his features popped. So sharp, so thick-set, so chiselled. To your surprise, he suddenly smiled in a way you’d never seen before. He gave you a smug, wolfish grin, flashing just an inch of fang.

‘Oh, no. Don’t you worry about that’ he murmured, his voice unnervingly confident. You blinked and watched with a burning core as Miguel leaned forward to finish.

‘It won’t take long at all.’

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman atsv #atsv peter b parker #miguel x peter #miguel x y/n

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magics-neptunes-things · 7 months

Text

A Baby for Christmas

Hi guys ♥

This is a new style I'm trying so I hope you will like it. Please let me know what you think about it! It was very long to write so I'm really sorry if you still find mistakes in it.

Summary : How your baby comes in your life. (Worst summary ever)

Part 2 is here!

TW : Mention of miscarriage, pregnancy.

______________________________________________________________

December

When Leah looked you in the eye while you innocently drank your coke and said "I want a baby" the shock was such that you spit out your drink. I mean, of course you know perfectly well that the blonde has a desire to create a family, you both talked about it pretty early in your relationship. But you didn’t expect her to throw you this information while you are lying on your couch, dressed only in one of her t-shirts too big for you after activities not necessarily adapted to any public.

By the time you managed not to choke, the blonde had added "With you" which made you bow both eyebrows at the same time.

"Thank God" you answered, dropping your soda can on your coffee table.

Leah laughed and grabbed a tissue to wipe your chin, while taking again.

"I think we have everything we need to welcome a baby properly, don’t you think? We have a house, we both make a good living, and I know you’re the love of my life."

After confirming that she were yours (your two-year marriage could have been proof of that alone), you contacted clinics and took the first steps to the path of motherhood.

You had hoped that the test carried out a few days before Christmas would be positive, but that wasn't the case. Even if Leah hugged you tightly, saying you that's it's ok and you will try again, you can't drive away your melancholy.

The following days, you were eternally grateful for Leah’s efforts to change your mind, going out to different Christmas markets or offering different Christmas activities. She knows how much you love this holiday. And you have to admit that it worked and you probably fell in love with her again.

January

"This is bullshit" you complain suddenly, driving Leah's attention on you.

"Ok. But which one are you talking about?"

Leah's answer made you smile and rolling your eyes. You were walking in Hyde Park hand in hand, taking advantage of illuminations that have not yet been removed. In the early afternoon, many families still enjoy the ice rink and the various activities offered by Winter Wonderland. It's the last day of opening and many people seem to still want to enjoy it.

"Genetics"

All you have to do is take a look at Leah to see that she’s completely lost by what you’re saying. Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t fully realize that Leah’s were thousands years away from yours.

"Care to explain?" asks the blonde, frowning.

You sighed and stop walking, without letting Leah's hand go.

"I want our baby to look like you. Not me."

Leah’s smile is tinged with a hint of sadness. It's obvious that your child will not be able to have your both features and you find this completely unfair. Aside from the fact that he would just be perfect, when you imagined having kids with Leah, you always imagined them looking like her.

"It’s sad and cute at the same time" Leah comments, releasing your hand to put her arm around your waist.

You pout and sigh softly, letting yourself go against her. You’re not a professional sportsman and Leah is going to make her big comeback on the football fields in two weeks. It made sense that you were carrying your child for both of us.

"There is a way to make it possible. To make him look like you" you add, once again crossing her questioning gaze.

"Babygirl I love you but I swear if you prepare to mention my brother in any way…"

"Ew no, what the hell?"

You frown with cringe while looking at her. She shrug and bite her lip before answering to you.

"Well one of the gynecologists we visited mentioned me the idea, but I’m glad to hear you don’t like it"

"I mean Jacob is cute because he looks like you, but not in this way"

Leah has a satisfied and superior smile that makes you laugh softly and you note in a corner of your head to ask her the name of the gynecologist to go and stick an one star in her Google reviews. But you’d rather go back to the present.

"So, what I was saying before you try Lannister-ed us (Leah rolls her eyes) is that I saw on the Internet that there is another possibility. I can take one of your eggs and take care of the pregnancy. But in the end it will look like you."

"Just to be sure" Leah says with her special accent "You want to take one egg from me (she put her index on her) to put it here (she put her index on your belly) and make the baby grow so he looks like me (she put herself again)?"

"Yes?"

"I like this idea a little to much" Leah smirks.

February

You’ve always hated needles since you were little. Vaccines have always been your hell on earth and despite all the persuasion of your mother, you have never been able to donate your blood. Fortunately, you have never had an operation, otherwise you sincerely don't know how you would have done. When you told Leah about this little detail, she thought you were exaggerating and laughed. But that was before you had to have an injection every night for the goods of your treatment and that possibly you could have a baby in a few months.

"Baby, it’s time!"

You look up from the television to see your wife leaning against a piece of furniture in your living room, a mischievous smile on her face and a syringe in her hands.

"Oh no" you whine

"Oh yes."

Without giving Leah time to react, you jump off the couch and run into the bedroom. That doesn’t stop you from hearing your wife’s voice sigh.

"Seriously?"

You’ve only been on this treatment for a few days, but every day is worse than the last. Leah is doing her best and she is particularly sweet and delicate, but your belly is covered with bruises and it has clearly become your most hated moment of the day.

"Y/N I swear to god!" makes Leah when she realise that you hide yourself in the cupboard. Again.

"Leave me alone you creep"

But Leah doesn’t listen to you and opens the closet door on the fly. You try to escape, but it was not counting Leah’s sporting reflexes that tackle you on your bed. Sitting on your legs, she knows you have no chance to escape.

"Baby please, can we talk about this?"

"Stop acting" Leah laughs softly as she lifts your shirt.

Knowing that you cannot escape it any longer, you close your eyes and take a great aspiration.

"Finished"

You open your eyes to see the satisfied face of Leah, who in the meantime put the needle on her bedside table.

"I have to admit you’re getting better and better at it" you whisper reluctantly.

In truth, you didn’t even feel anything. But you quickly spot the glow that shines in Leah’s eyes when she looks at you.

"I must admit that I particularly like this position" she whispers as she leans over you, putting her lips on yours.

March

"I think I’ll throw up" you nervously say.

"Actually, I think you were supposed to pee on it" your wife objects with sarcasm.

Despite yourself you let go of a nervous little laugh, rising from the edge of the bathtub on which you had settled. Today is the famous day of the pregnancy test and you are so stressed that you wonder if you will fall out, vomit or simply end up rolled into a ball on the floor of your bathroom.

"5 minutes" Leah grumbles after a few seconds, looking at the timer on her phone. "Who makes these tests?"

"Certainly people who love neither women nor children"

It’s Leah’s turn to giggle a little, but the tension is still there. To pass the time, you sing from memory Good Caroline in your head several times, until the timer rings in the room. Leah jumps so much that she drops her phone on the ground.

You exchange a look and you talk first.

"You’re watching. I don’t have the courage."

Leah sighs softly but gets up from the toilet bowl, nervously approaching the two tests you've done. You preferred to be sure of the result so as not to have false hopes, just in case. With trembling hands, Leah takes a deep breath before taking both tests in her hands. Her nervous face becomes unreadable and you will certainly die of stress in a few seconds.

"So what? Lee?"

After a few seconds, Leah puts her attention back on you, her gaze still unfathomable.

"My Love, I swear…" you begin, ready to threaten her if she remains silent one more second.

"Positive."

"What?"

She seems so incredulous that you think you misunderstood. But a big smile appears on her face and she jumps into your arms.

"Positive! We will be Parents!"

April

Lying in your bed, Leah is scrolling on her phone while you have opted for a more traditional way of doing things, using a book. You’ve been thinking about a name for a few weeks without really finding your happiness. Despite the fact that you still go the time, you fear that you arrive at the birth before making a choice. Not wanting to know if the baby is a girl or a boy complicates your task, but it's time to assume this choice until the end.

"What do you think of Alistair?" you ask while raising the nose of your book.

"Of course, if you want him to be able to join the royal family later, it will be perfect" mocks Leah and you roll your eyes.

"I know!" exclaims your blonde seconds later with a victorious smile. "William!"

"William Williamson? Really?"

"Well, yes!"

Your sarcastic tone and arched eyebrow seem to amuse Leah more than reason since she laughs, proud of her discovery. And seeing her happy face, you can’t help but smile softly.

"Harry?" you suggest, a few minutes later.

"No."

Leah’s clear and almost cold answer surprises you and you raise your nose from your book to look at her. Her eyebrows are raised and you don’t understand why. Does she have a hatred you didn’t know about Harry Potter?

"Why?"

"Because Harry Kane and there's no fucking way that my son is named after a Tottenham player."

Leah threatens you with her finger and you hold back with a smile, realizing that the subject is burning for your wife.

"Oh man…" you whisper softly as you resume your reading.

Some time passes and the silence settles, interrupted only by the rain that strikes against the windows of your house. You take advantage of this silence to snuggle up against Leah and you smile as you feel her cheek pressed against the top of your skull.

"Magnus?" you suggest after a few minutes.

Leah raises her head and thinks a few seconds before nodding.

"I like it. You can add it to the list."

With a satisfied smile, you add Magnus to Cameron’s suite after taking the time to trace William. The innocent look that Leah takes when you look at her while doing it amuses you and you rest your pen.

"We’re only looking for a boy’s name, but what if it’s a girl?"

Looking up at you, Leah puts her phone on her thigh and you see her hesitant to speak again. The way she sways slightly on the mattress makes you think about what she does when she stands up and has to tell you something. Fortunately, this was never a serious confession.

"Well… there’s a name I like, since I was a teenager"

"Okay?"

"I’m afraid you don’t like her"

You smile softly, passing your legs over hers. Your curiosity is driven by the fact that Leah doesn’t seem to want to tell you. Taking her hand in yours, you intertwine your fingers and look into her eyes.

"Come on Leah, just tell me" you whines.

"Charlie?"

"Charlie Williamson" you try the first and last name several times on your tong, under the inquisitive eye of Leah, before giving her a big smile. "I really like it."

May

"I'm scared" you mumble against Leah's neck, where you're hiding your face.

You both were in the gynaecologist’s office that follows you during your pregnancy. This is the first ultrasound you will have for your baby. After taking a blood test after a month of pregnancy and confirming that you were pregnant, you considered it unnecessary to specify that you did a test almost every other day. This all sounds almost too good to be true. You feel like something terrible is going to happen to you.

"I’m sure it’s going to be all right" Leah replies with her deep, calm voice, kissing the top of your head.

In truth, she is at least as stressed as you and doesn't pay any attention to the magazine she's reading. She is also the first to get up when you are called, even if she gently reaches out to you to help you do the same.

The gynecologist asks you about your state of health, but you rather want to shake her so that she hurries to put you on the observation table. You want, need, to know that everything is fine.

After a few minutes it is finally the case and you find yourself nervously attached to Leah’s hand.

"We may not hear the heartbeat well, since the fetus is still small" it informs you, which does not help your stress to decrease.

You answer nothing, focused on the images that scroll on the screen in front of you. You look at Leah when she explains to both of you where the baby is, which you would have been unable to see on your own. These white spots are inexplicable to you. But your wife’s wet eyes are enough to make you smile.

"Come on, let’s try to listen to his heart now."

You swallow and close your eyes, expecting to hear a very slight sound after the doctor’s explanations. But it’s actually a fast and loud drumming that sounds in the room, making you quickly open your eyes. The sensations you feel when hearing this melody are indescribable and you only realize that you are crying when Leah gently wipes your tears with her thumb.

"It looks like this baby is in great shape. Congratulations. I’ll let you get dressed and we’ll make an appointment for the next check."

You nod and can’t get your eyes off the frozen screen where the proof is that this baby really exists.

"We’re gonna be parents."

Leah’s sentence, the same one she uttered when discovering the positive tests, seems more like an achievement this time. But you understand her feeling. It seems to be much more real.

"You’re not gonna knock out, are you?"

The look lost in Leah’s gaze becomes clear again when it lands on you and you address her a mocking smile.

"Of course not. Kiss me rather than tell nonsense."

Smiling again, you stand up and put your arms around her neck to kiss her tenderly. You let go of her when she kisses your cheek and neck, enjoying the moment. You’re going to be parents. And most importantly, your baby is healthy.

June

The good weather being back, it's with a little more motivation that you go to Leah's football matches. Even if you haven’t missed one in or around London, not having to cover yourself with layers of clothing is nice. Summer is coming and the end of the season too. Arsenal is pretty well placed in the standings, but it's a FA Cup's match that is being played today. And not just any since it’s the final and Arsenal is playing against Chelsea.

You find yourself in the ranks of families and friends, surrounded by the Williamsons and other family members of different players. The friends are also present since Ella Toone is also part of the ranks, just like Mary Earps and other international players that you have already met several times thanks to Leah.

You're wearing a jersey with Williamson print on your back, Leah's Arsenal cap and you bought yourself a scarf at the booth, which you put on your shoulders. The proud look your wife gave you when she saw you was worth it.

The match is tight and it's with a blank score that the half is whistled. Leah looks for you and addresses you a smirk before entering the tunnel to return to the changing rooms, which you answer obviously.

"Would you like something to drink, darling?" asks your mother-in-law affectionately and you think for a few moments.

Quench your thirst and know that you will run to the toilet a few minutes later and definitely miss part of the game? Or wait for a few more minutes? You end up opting for the second option and given the following of events, you are quite right. If you’d missed that moment, you’d probably have found yourself with a divorce paper under your nose.

60th minute, a corner for Arsenal is played right in the box. The ball is taken from the head by Alessia but ends on the crossbar. However, it’s not over since Lia managed to intercept it and pass it back to Leah who sends a cannon ball to the bottom of the nets.

You expected Leah to rush to her teammates to celebrate, but instead you see her positioning her arms as if she was carrying an imaginary baby and she started rocking it. There’s a big smile on your face when you realize what she’s doing. You haven’t made your pregnancy public yet, fearing you’ll have to announce bad news if things go wrong. It must also be said that the fact that you are not famous and that your belly grew during the winter allowed you not to have too much effort to put in place for this.

Playful smiles on their faces, Leah’s teammates finally reach her height to congratulate her for this goal. These hugs finished, Leah looks for you again among the crowd and you send her a kiss with your hand.

Thirty minutes later, the referee’s whistle rang through the stadium, sealing Arsenal’s victory. You find yourself jumping on the spot with excitement too, cuddling all the people you can reach. You know how important this game was for Leah, who wants to get back to her old level as soon as possible.

It’s only after the cup has been lifted by the whole team that Leah makes her way to you, but you’re happy to see her enjoying these moments with her friends. You smile when you see her running towards you and get as close as possible to the edge of the field. The height of the bleachers doesn't seem to bother Leah who climbs it simply to get to your height.

"I’m so proud of you, Leah" you smile as you stretch out your arms at her.

A big smile on her face, Leah hugs you with pleasure, putting a tender kiss on your lips.

"Did you see my goal?"

"Was it you? I could have sworn it was Cloé who scored that fantastic goal"

Leah snorts and you smirk at her, taking her face in your both hands.

"Have you seen my celebration too?"

"I did Baby. You're such a dork" you smile when Leah laughs and kiss her once again, forgetting the world around you, making you believing that you are all alone.

But you weren't.

"Hum. Mind if I hug my sister, too?"

September

Leah’s flirtatious nature is known in the football world and it never changed when you guys got together. You know perfectly well that there is nothing behind, you saw the way she flirted "for real" when she became interested in you. However, as you often tell her, it's not necessarily as easy to understand for the person in front of her. Because of her sexual orientation, they are very often girls.

But then again, you never gave her a fit of jealousy because she never exceeded the limits you set and because she always proved to you that you could have a blind and total trust in her. Apart from her sharp, chaotic, unpredictable and sometimes stubborn character, Leah knows how to be affectionate, attentive, romantic and tender. You think some people won’t believe you, but you don’t care. That part of Leah is only for you and that’s perfect.

But tonight, you feel your hormones bubbling. Leah asked you to join her in the karaoke bar she used to go to with her teammates. Tonight there’s Alessia, Lia, Alex, Katie and Caitlin. After breaking everyone’s ears on an Adele song, Katie was forced to sit down for the end of the evening and sulks in her corner. Alessia and Leah went back for drinks while Alex started a song with Caitlin.

Lia is installed at your side, but you must admit that you're paying any attention to your discussion. Your interest is entirely focused on the waitress who flirts without the slightest embarrassment with your wife.

"You’re not listening to me at all" Lia laughs softly, making you finally turn your head in her direction.

"No, I’m sorry."

You make a grimace but she addresses you a smile, apparently not in the least vindictive. You like the Swiss girl, you know she had a little fling with Leah before you met, but her behavior towards you has always been impeccable. You can’t tell if feelings are completely erased from her side, but she’s a loyal friend to Leah and who would you blame for someone having stifled feelings for the perfect woman that is Leah?

Speaking of the blonde, you shift your attention to her to see that she is still in full discussion with the waitress. Even Alessia seems to find time long, her gaze navigates between Leah and the table. Noticing that you observe the scene with coldness, she taps on Leah’s shoulder with a discreet nod in your direction.

Your eyes cross the baby blue of Leah who seems to realize the situation immediately. So she easily emerges from the grip of the waitress who had literally grabbed her arm to come back to you.

"A little song Less?" quickly offers Lia when she feels the tension emanating from your body.

Alessia vaguely answers a "Yes please" letting her desire to flee the possible dispute that point the tip of her nose, which would surely have amused you another day.

"You okay Babe?" asks Leah, putting a hand on your leg.

"Don’t Babe me, Leah." You said coldly with an eyebrow arched.

"Come on, Baby, it was nothing. We were just talking."

"Normal people don’t talk to others by sticking their breasts under their noses."

Leah rolls her eyes and you push her hand back from your leg, but the blonde does not let go and passes the same hand around your shoulders to squeeze you against her. You try to escape, but your big belly is holding you back. Now the baby’s on Leah’s side.

"Leah" you try to push her away despite the gust of kisses she puts all over your face.

"Leah" you repeat once again, feeling your anger wither.

"I love it when you say my name" your wife whispers mischievously in your ear.

"Stop it. It’s not funny"

Despite this, Leah has a smile on her face when she resumes speaking, your chin delicately trapped between her thumb and index finger.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it bothered you that much. You know I only see you. It doesn’t bother you so much usually, what changes this time?"

You shrug your shoulders in perfect bad faith. You know why, but you’re not sure you want to talk about it. When it goes like this before, you have a nice time sticking to Leah and making out with her to make your rivals understand that she's yours.

"Dunno" you mumble before you finish your soda.

"You’re lying" Leah whispers in your ear, laying a kiss on the corner of your jaw.

"What do you want me to say?" you sigh softly "she is younger, prettier and she can certainly offer free drinks to whoever she wants."

The end of your sentence was mostly meant to distract Leah from the rest, but it obviously didn’t work. The blonde straightens a little, frowning.

"No one is prettier than you"

"Oh please, Leah, I appreciate your support but I have already gained more than ten kilos. Be realistic. I am. And I don’t like it when women prettier than me flirt with my wife."

But Leah doesn't seem to hear it from this ear since your face always between her fingers is putting closer to hers. Her eyebrows are frowned, much more than usual.

"Nobody’s prettier than you. I’m serious."

You have trouble supporting the intensity of her gaze and you find yourself blushing like you did when she complimented you at the beginning of your relationship. The blonde finally releases your face, but only to tighten you against her, with two arms this time.

"You are my wife. No one is prettier than you."

October

In half a sleep, Leah turns around in your bed to get on her stomach, expecting to be able to curl up against you. Except that it's only the void that receives her, making her frown. Still without opening her eyes, she taps the mattress in search of your body, without success. It's only then that she opens her eyes and rises slightly on the mattress to note your absence at her side.

"Y/N?"

When the silence answers her, Leah ends up getting up and looking for you. She walks through the different rooms of the house starting with the bathroom and ending with your garden, without success. Gradually, the blonde feels panic invading her, especially when she realizes that your pajamas are wisely folded on a chair in your room and that you left with her purse but without your phone or your car.

It's with trembling hands and fingers that your wife grabs her phone to call the first number that comes to her mind in an emergency.

"What’s up Baba?" makes the sleepy voice of Amanda Williamson, awakened at 3am by her daughter.

"Y/N is missing."

********

When you return home, you are surprised to see that an additional car is in your driveway, apparently parked in a hurry. You don’t understand why your mother-in-law’s car is here, or why all the lights in the house are on.

So it’s puzzling that you go to the door, your food bag in your hand. People had warned you that you would have strange cravings, but you didn’t expect to want cinnamon rolls and Beef Jerky in the middle of the night. Unable to go back to sleep and not having it at home, you simply decided to go to the supermarket open 24/24 in your neighborhood to do some shopping.

If you were perplexed when you arrived at home, you have the impression that question marks grow on your head when you pass the front door. Leah is sitting on the couch with her head in her hands and your stepmother in a bathrobe over her nightgown on the phone with someone. Hearing the front door, Leah abruptly raises her head and before you realize it you find yourself pressed against her with blond hair obstructing your vision.

"Okay, she’s here. Yes … thank you very much" you hear Amanda saying before she hangs up.

"Where the hell were you? Are you okay? What happened?"

Leah releases you a little and holds you at arm’s length, letting her gaze slide over every inch of your body to check that you have no wound anywhere.

"I’m fine! I - I was hungry so I went to buy food"

"At 3 in the morning?!" Leah half-scream

"Yes?"

"Without taking your phone?"

"I forgot it."

"For God’s sake, have you lost your mind?! If anything had happened to you, what would you have done? We were calling the cops and -"

"Leah."

Amanda’s voice sounds and you realize at this moment that she has taken a few steps to get closer to you both. Laying a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, she draws her attention with her calm, smoothing voice. It seems to work since Leah turns directly in her direction.

"She’s fine. You were afraid, but everything’s fine now"

The inspiration that Leah takes to calm down is audible throughout the room and you take advantage of this moment of calm to say in a small voice

"I'm so sorry"

The blue eyes of the footballer refer to you and the embrace that you exchange this time is more made to comfort her for once. Over her shoulder, you give your mother-in-law an apology smile.

"Sorry for pulling you out of bed in the middle of the night"

"No worries. But I’m going back now."

She winks at you and kisses you both before leaving the house. Leah is still in your arms and you gently stroke her back with your fingertips, following her spine. Her face is hidden in your neck and you kiss her hair before you speak again.

"Shall we go back to bed too?"

Leah answers you with a grunt and grabs your hand to train you in your bedroom, taking care to turn off the lights of the house in passing.

"Don’t ever do that to me again" Leah mutters and clings to you like she’s afraid you’ll disappear again.

"I’m sorry" you say again. "I know how tired you are with the games and the training. I just wanted to let you rest."

"I don’t care if I��m tired. If you need anything and I sleep, you wake me up. If anything happens to you and I’m gone, you call me. I won’t accept any excuses."

"At your command, Captain" you smile tenderly before kissing her.

"I’m not kidding, Williamson."

"I know, Williamson."

November

"Y/N Y/S/N Williamson, will you please come down that ladder, right now?"

Hearing the voice both panicked and commanding of your wife, you smile and roll your eyes. Leah’s over-protective behavior is growing day by day and you will surely not be allowed to lift any pencil soon.

"Leah, I’m not risking anything" you say, turning in her direction.

"No! Don't move! You will fall!"

Letting the panic prevail, Leah rushes towards you, throwing her football bag and her boots to makes you come down the ladder by carrying you in her arms like a bride. Smiling, you put your arms around her neck and put your lips on hers.

"You’re so strong" you coo tenderly before deposing other kisses along her jaw and into her neck.

You feel her shiver, so you continue your kisses. Leah was away all the morning and the beginning of the afternoon for training and you were getting bored. So you decided to install the Christmas decoration, going up the boxes from the cellar and setting up your Christmas tree. Without decorating it, knowing that Leah would do it with you. You also had time to decorate the windows with stickers and fake snow and you were finishing installing the lights above your windows.

"Oh no, I know exactly what you’re doing" laughs Leah as you, gently resting you on the floor.

"What?" you ask maliciously.

"You’re trying to distract me from your foolishness"

"I will only speak in the presence of my lawyer"

Leah laughs and you can’t help but smile when you hear your favorite sound. Putting yourself on tiptoe, you deposit a new kiss on her lips to which the blonde responds without hesitation.

"How is my baby?"

Her hand gently settles on your belly and you smile again feeling her do.

"He’s in great shape, he’s been kicking me all day"

"Believe me, there is a future talented footballer in there"

"A striker most certainly" you smirk

"No way. He's going to be a defender"

"Or a keeper"

"Who in the world would want to be a goalkeeper, except Mary’s children?"

You know that Leah is joking and that she will be happy no matter what path your child chooses. But if he could enjoy football and become an Arsenal fan, it would probably be a big plus for her. As if to confirm this words, you feel the baby give a new kick, exactly where Leah’s hand is.

"Well hello to you too Buba" Leah says tenderly before bending over to lay a kiss on your belly.

"How was training baby?" You ask, picking up the stuff Leah threw on the floor a few minutes ago.

"Leave it, I’ll take care of it" intervenes the blonde, grabbing you by the hand. "It was ok, but training in the cold begins to become painful"

You smile at her and decide to take her with you in the kitchen.

"How about a nice hot chocolate?"

"I think it’s the best idea of your day. Way above climbing a ladder and being eight months pregnant."

December

Leah is in the training room, surrounded by her teammates when her phone starts ringing. By habit, in case you have an emergency, she leaves it under general so you can contact her anytime. She gave you a special ring, allowing her to recognize your calls compared to others.

"Lee, phone" shouts Alessia across the room.

"Can you look who’s calling me please?"

The blonde does it willingly, rummaging through spare clothes and cereal boxes.

"It's your mother."

Leah sighs and walks across the room to grab her phone and hang up. However, Leah barely has time to rest it that it starts ringing again, making Leah frown.

"She knows I’m training, why is she insisting like that?"

The question is said aloud, but it could just as well be pronounced in his head. However, this would not have allowed Katie to respond.

"Maybe an emergency?"

"Didn’t you tell me Y/N was with her this morning?" intervenes Lia.

The captain’s face breaks down a little and she quickly picks up at this welcome reminder of her friend.

"Mom?"

"Baba don’t freak out, but we’re at the hospital. Y/N’s water just broke."

"I’m… I’m coming"

Just after hanging up, panic seizes Leah who gathers her belongings by embarking half of those belonging to Viv in passing. Miraculously her teammates manage to understand what she explains to them and Lia intervenes quickly, with all the calm and sweetness that characterizes her.

"I’m driving you, there's no way you’re driving in this state."

After refusing that the entire team accompanies them ("It’s a birth, not a summer camp"), it's finally with Alessia and Katie that Lia accompanies Leah to the right hospital. It's finally a good thing that the Swiss woman decided to accompany Leah, she would surely have managed to go to the wrong maternity.

"Leah breathe" Katie says from the back seat.

"Easy to say! If things go wrong? In addition, the baby is early! What if he doesn't survive this?"

"Wasn't the expected delivery date the December 12?" asks Lia, bowing her eyebrow.

"Yes."

"Leah, we’re the 7" Alessia gently intervened.

"So what?"

"I swear to God that if this child inherits your drama rate, I’ll get him enrolled in drama classes" says Katie, sighing at length.

In the room you’re in, time seems long without Leah. Amanda keeps you company until your wife gets here, but between the pain and the stress, you don’t look too good.

"You’re doing very well darling" your mother-in-law gently makes you, to whom you address a smile-grimace.

Fortunately, a few minutes later Leah finally makes her appearance, dressed in a sky blue outfit that you saw a thousand times in Grey’s Anatomy. The relief is so great when you see her come that tears rise to your eyes. Focused on Leah, you don’t even realize that Amanda is taking the powder.

"My Love" whispers Leah as she lays a kiss on your forehead.

Leah tenderly caresses your face while listening to the nurse’s information and you relax as much as possible. You didn’t hesitate for a second when you were asked if you wanted peridulral. You willingly let other women be brave, but you, no thanks.

The hours pass, both slow and fast. Leah does her best to relieve, relax or change your mind. She’s perfect, once again.

It's only around 2am that your baby’s cry finally sounds in the delivery room, after long hours of labor. You can’t tell which of the three of you cried the most when your little miracle is lying on your chest, Leah sitting next to you in bed.

A little blonde hair down, quickly covered with a hat, and baby blue piercing eyes as light as Leah's are the first features you discover in your perfect baby. Just like you hopped.

"So, what will you call this little angel?" the nurse ask you.

"Charlie. Her name is Charlie" Leah mumble, a big smile on her face. "Charlie Amanda Williamson."

#woso x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader

834 notes · View notes

darkbluekies · 5 months

Note

Hey, sorry if this has been addressed before but gathering from the info you’ve given about dr kry, why does he choose to have biological children instead of just adopting? Seeing as he seems put off by sexual ideas and is a germaphobe in general, I kind of assumed he was asexual. Plus he doesn’t seem like the kind of traditional macho “won’t raise another man’s child” type of guy, so why not adoption?

My requests etc are still closed, but I just have to answer this anyway.

Dr Kry is ABSOLUTELY the type to not raise another man's child. That is the entire idea of this one shot — tying to get rid of y/n's son so that he can have his darling. The only reason why he doesn't kill the little kid is because he has y/ns genetic material and I think that it literally says in the one-shot that he cannot bring himself to kill anyone with y/ns genetic material. If he wasn't y/ns, that kid wouldn't be alive.

I don't really understand why so many of you think that he is asexual ... he's literally obsessed with his darling? He's just uncomfortable with physical touch and really shy about it. When writing him as a husband instead of a, primarily doctor, he's much more comfortable with physical touch. He just needs to take it slow. Remember that he wants to stay professional when he's at the hospital because of the doctor-patient relationship. And yes, he is a germphobe, but when have that stopped a yandere?

Adoption is not in his vision for his future home life, because his main goal is to have children that have both of your genetic material, because, perhaps, if you somehow manage to escape, he hs othr ways to brign you back. And since he hates kids, the only ones he would be able to tolerate would be the oens he produces himself. Although they wouldn't be his first priority. (which is why his future twin daughters haven't heard him say "i love you" to them).

#yandere doctor #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader

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shakespeareanwannabe · 5 months

Text

As You Wish, Chapter 1

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister, reader is described as having a tattoo and goes by Buttercup, verbal arguing, almost physical fighting, alcohol use, references to death and loss and mourning

Jake’s House, a few months after the Uranium Mission

When she had been invited to Miramar to visit her older brother, Robert Floyd, she had been given two ground rules. Follow all of Robby’s instructions so as to not get into trouble with the locals or the top brass. And do not fall for Hangman’s charms.

The first rule was easy. She was a rule follower by nature, allowing herself to be ruled by her brain and her built in sense of logic, so following Robby’s lead was easy. And she’d assumed that the second rule would be easy as well. Anyone named Hangman was not someone she was interested in getting to know, especially since her brother had told her almost a year ago that the man earned the nickname by always leaving his wingmen hanging as he chased the glory for himself. Though Robby had seemed to relax his personal views of Hangman after their latest top secret mission, he remained firm that he wasn’t going to allow his baby sister to become one of his co-worker’s (dare he say friend’s) conquests.

And yet, here she was, three months after she was supposed to leave to go back to New York, cuddled up on Hangman’s couch as they settled in for another movie night. So much for letting her brain rule and following her innate logic.

Her brain was mush and her logic had gone out the window the second he’d asked her to stay, and she knew it wouldn’t be coming back so long as he was tracing his long fingers up and down the length of her spine as she laid on his chest, her head slowly rising and falling as they watched her all time favourite movie.

She sighed happily as she felt his plush lips press into her hairline.

“What’re you thinkin’ about?” he whispered as two characters sword fought on screen.

“How happy I am,” she murmured into his chest. “And how lucky. I’m lucky I found you, lucky my job is letting me work remote, lucky to feel so happy.”

Jake pulled her closer, tangling their legs together beneath the light throw blanket that had been tossed over them. “I’m happy too,” he whispered, watching as the main character on screen was now struggling to fight a giant. “Even though I have zero idea what is happening in this movie,” he added with a chuckle.

“That’s because you’ve been too busy trying to cop a feel to pay attention to a seminal classic of our generation.”

“Can you blame me? You’re literally on top of me. No guy in his right mind is going to pass up that kind of opportunity.”

She giggled. “Well, try to focus because my favourite part is coming up.”

Jake pouted but agreed, watching as the man in black outwitted the smaller man, grabbed the princess, and took off running.

“This is your favourite part?” he chuckled as the man in black mocked the princess’s pain.

“Would you hush?” she clapped a hand over his mouth, then shrieked as he licked her palm. “You’re disgusting!” she giggled, wiping her hand down his shirt. “Ooh! This is it!” She turned her attention completely to the screen as the princess shoved her captor down a large hill.

“As…you…wish!” the man called as he tumbled head over heels, the princess following straight after him.

“There had to be an easier way to follow him down the hill,” Jake joked.

“Jake!” she whined, craning her head to look at him from her position against his chest. “She doesn’t care! Buttercup doesn’t feel any pain. Her Westley is alive, so she’s so happy she could fly! Now stop ruining it!”

“Alright, I’m sorry. Hey…” he pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’m sorry. Thank you for sharing this with me, Buttercup.”

She blinked, her head cocking to the side in an inquisitive display that made him melt. “Buttercup?”

“Yeah. You’re brave and clever and loyal, definitely stubborn, and I have no doubt that you’d push someone down a hill for insulting you if you knew you could get away with it. Plus…” he pressed a sweet kiss to her lips this time, grinning as she gasped lightly. “I’d definitely fight a determined Hispanic swordfighter, a giant, and a conniving Wallace Shawn to keep you safe.”

She giggled, resting her head back on his chest. “Buttercup…I kinda like that.”

Camp Silver Star, Now

Abby quickly settled into her cabin, a cozy wooden building with four sets of bunk beds and large windows that opened onto the woods that surrounded them. Her cabinmates were nice enough, not judging her for her slight British accent, though there were some questions as to why a child with family in the American military had a British accent. However, by the end of the first day as the eight girls shared stories and jokes about their lives. They had all been impressed when they found out that her mum was a famous author, most of the girls recognizing her mother’s penname from their own bookshelves back home, and even more impressed when they found out her uncle and aunt had flown with the near infamous Dagger Squad. Most of the girls in her cabin had family in the Navy, so they were at least semi familiar with stories of the defunct but elite squad of fighter pilots. Her mum had been right, in a way. Being around other children who had family in the military (whether they were currently serving or retired, like her aunt and uncle) was a bonding experience. Plus, it helped that she genuinely liked the other girls. They were friendly and two of them, her bunkmate Isabelle and her friend Max, even wanted to be fighter pilots, just like her.

Abby could feel the sting of homesickness fade with every day that passed. She filed things away in her brain, stories that she wanted to share with her mum when she was able to call her on Phone Home Fridays, activities she wanted to continue once she was back home, jokes she wanted to tell her aunt to see if she could earn a rare smile. She even planned on begging Penny, the owner of the camp, for some of her recipes to take home, because the food was absolutely delicious.

Abby sniffed as the scent of maple and salt hit her nose as the door to the dining cabin was thrown open and her troop strolled inside for breakfast on the first Friday of her visit to camp. Pancakes were apparently a Friday morning tradition at Camp Silver Star, and Abby could feel herself salivating at the very thought. She was about to make a beeline for the breakfast counter when she heard a voice calling her name.

“Abby!” Max pouted. “My braid came undone. Can you help?”

Abby rolled her eyes fondly. Max had extremely curly hair and always complained about it getting in her eyes when they were doing activities, so Abby had started braiding it for her.

“Yes,” she called back, eyeing the long line of campers jealously as she turned her back on the table laden with all her breakfast favourites, just missing a young camper rushing behind her to bypass the line and go straight to the woman manning the tongs.

“Hey Amelia, does the fruit salad have cantaloupe in it? Because I’m allergic,” Charlie stated, holding out her bowl of fruit salad. She’d been so distracted by the delicious smells and the juicy gossip she was sharing with her friends that she had totally missed that very crucial detail.

“Oh shoot! Yeah, it does. Sorry, Charlie. I’ll talk to the cooks about leaving cantaloupe out of the fruit salad. You and another camper are allergic, so that really can’t be happening.”

“Thanks, Amelia. I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, and I’ll appreciate not getting yelled at by your dad for letting you go into anaphylactic shock,” Amelia winked and Charlie grinned. She’d known Amelia just as long as she’d known Penny, given that Amelia was Penny’s daughter and she’d been present for all visits and memorials for her stepdad.

“Don’t worry. Your mom still scares him, so he wouldn’t yell. Too much.”

Amelia rolled her eyes playfully. “Thank god for small miracles.”

Charlie waved and walked over to her cabin’s table, not paying any attention to the camper who had just sidled up to the breakfast table.

“Good morning,” Abby chirped happily as Amelia turned away from her to grab a plate. “I have a quick question about your fruit salad, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, kiddo. What’s up?”

“Would there happen to be cantaloupe in your fruit salad? I’m unfortunately allergic.”

Amelia’s brow furrowed as she turned back to face the camper. “I already to — oh!” She blinked as though she was trying to erase a sudden case of double vision. “Oh. A-Abigail, right?” When the camper nodded at her, she giggled nervously. “Yeah. Abigail. Hi. Hi. I’m—I’m Amelia. W-we know about your allergy. You a-and another student—I mean—camper have the same allergy. I…I’m gonna go talk to the cooks right now and make sure they know not to put any more cantaloupe in the fruit salad. Okay?” Amelia rambled, backing up and almost bumping into a cook bringing out a hot tray of bacon. “Oops! Sorry, Ralph! Can you take over for me for a quick second? Thank you!”

Abby was left scratching her head, wondering why the breakfast lady was so jumpy, and particularly curious as to why she could be heard running towards the main office screaming, “MOM!”

Abby and her cabin had spent the morning in the flight simulator, which had only served to cement her desire to be a Navy aviator like her aunt and uncle. She couldn’t wait until later that afternoon, when she could use the computers to video chat with her family back home and tell them all about how she had almost made it to the end of the program without crashing once. Until then, her cabin, Cabin 4, was scheduled with Cabin 7 for horseback riding. And while Abby was an accomplished English rider, she would much rather be joining the queue at the computer building. But, since she couldn’t skip the activity, she lined up with the rest of her cabinmates along the wooden fence that sectioned off the riding ring.

A girl inside the ring was just finishing up her turn on a small course of jumps that had been set up at the opposite end of the ring.

“Way to go, Charlie!” the riding instructor called as the girl, riding a large palomino, trotted back to the entrance of the ring.

“No sweat,” the girl, Charlie, shrugged as she dismounted with ease and patted the horse’s neck. “Champ’s a sweetheart, and that course is nothing compared to the one back home.”

The instructor, Karen, rolled her eyes playfully. “Yes, we shouldn’t expect anything less from the ranch girl from Texas. Would anyone like to try to top Charlie’s time?” she called, looking down the line at the rest of the campers.

“I’ll give it a go,” Abby volunteered, adjusting her helmet and leading her horse, Rosita, towards the gate. “I’m a pretty decent rider.”

“I’m not sure ‘pretty decent’ is going to cut it, but suit yourself,” Charlie retorted as she passed.

“Charlie, be nice!” Karen barked, her eyes scanning over Rosita’s tack to make sure it was properly fitted.

“Sorry, Karen,” Charlie replied in a tone that suggested to Abby that the apology was less than sincere.

Abby rolled her eyes and mounted up, patting Rosita’s chestnut hide as she settled into the saddle.

“Don’t let Charlie get to you, okay?” Karen murmured, tightening the girth of Rosita’s saddle. “She’s a nice kid, just a little…”

“Ostentatious?”

Karen stifled a smile. “You all set?”

Abby nodded, gathering her reins and clicking her tongue. “I’ve got this.”

Charlie smirked as the other camper started off at a trot, but that smirk slowly faded as she and the horse started going through the course with ease, clearing the jumps and obstacles with greater ease than she and Champ had. She was left to scoff as the pair cleared the last jump with ease and cantered back to the starting line, the kids from Cabin 4 cheering her on as Karen announced that she had beat her time by one and a half seconds.

“It’s alright, Charlie. You’ll get her next time,” assured Ryann, her bunkmate, as they led their horses back to the stables to groom them and bed them down for the night.

“It’s probably because she was riding English style,” Charlie grumped. “Everyone knows its easier to jump in English style.”

“That’s not true and you know it,” a posh voice sounded behind them, and Charlie rolled her eyes.

“How would you know? Have you ever tried to ride Western?” Charlie challenged, stepping closer. The girl didn’t back down, clipping her horse onto the tether outside the stall and stepping up to her.

“No. Have you ever tried riding English?”

“No, but—”

“Then you can’t claim that one is easier than the other, can you?”

The other girls from Cabin 4 laughed, and Charlie felt her blood boil. She hated being laughed at. It happened enough at her school back home and she absolutely despised it.

“Yeah, well English riders are usually stuck up rich kids anyway. How much did your mommy and daddy spend to teach you how to ride like that?” she snapped, feeling her face flush with anger and envy.

Abby felt tears pool in her eyes. “I…I mean…”

“Why are the horses just standing around, not being groomed?” Karen questioned as she strolled in from the office, taking in the stiffness between the two girls and the heaviness in the air.

“I…it’s nothing, Karen,” Abby murmured, taking her helmet off and pulling her hair out of its low bun.

“Yeah. We’re fine,” Charlie added on, removing her helmet and allowing her blond hair to cascade over her shoulders, ignoring the gasp of surprise from those around her.

Charlie turned to put her helmet on the shelf at the same time as Abby, their eyes locking with hurt and anger glimmering beneath the matching green seas.

Abby’s eyes blinked in shock and Charlie schooled her features.

“What are you looking at?” she muttered.

“I…I mean, we…”

“You two are practically identical!” Ryann screeched, the horses nickering in surprise.

“You’re dreaming, Ry,” Charlie stepped around her and started brushing down Champ.

“I agree with her,” Abby stated, stepping up to Champ’s other side and meeting her eyes. “If you take away a few cosmetic differences, we look the exact same.”

Charlie shook her head. “You’re imagining things. Or you need to get your eyes checked.”

Abby scoffed and crossed her arms. “I have perfect vision, I’ll have you know. And I’m not imagining things.”

“Well, I think you are!” Charlie dug her heels in. “There’s no way I look like someone as snooty as you!”

Abby crossed her arms. “Well, I don’t particularly want to look like a cornfed hick either, but at least I’m not delusional and denying the situation.”

“What did you just call me?”

“Girls, girls!” Karen appeared at Champ’s head, soothing the now nervous horse. “Take a walk. Both of you. Cool off before you call home. And I don’t want to hear any more negative talk like that. Not in my stables.”

An echo of “yes Karen” bounced off the walls as the girls glared at each other and stalked off with their cabinmates, each set of girls trying to calm down the green eyed blond in their midst.

“Ugh, dad! But you promised!”

Charlie glared at the pixelated likeness of her father’s face. Normally, she would’ve been thrilled to see her dad. He had a kind face that let Charlie know that, even when he was mad or tired or frustrated, he loved her, the crow’s feet at his eyes and the dimples in his cheeks appearing every time he smiled at her. They appeared now as he grinned at her through the computer screen.

“I know I did. But I’m still saying no. And that’s because the only complaint I’ve heard is about this girl,” Jake Seresin chuckled. “Otherwise, you seem to be having a great time. And I know Penny is taking good care of you.”

“Well, yeah…” Charlie muttered. “But she called me a cornfed hick!” She purposefully left out the argument they had about possibly looking alike, because Charlie knew it was not the truth.

“Only after you called her snooty, punk,” Jake shook his head. “I know I’ve taught you not to dish it out if you can’t take it.”

“I know, but…but she’s so infuriating!” Charlie moaned as she sat back in her seat.

“You want me to come down there and handle it, Charlie?” a voice called as a moustachioed man in a Hawaiian shirt crowded into the screen.

“You are not going out there to handle an 11-year-old, dude,” another man appeared on the call.

“It’s fine, Uncle Roo,” Charlie giggled. “Listen to Uncle Javy.”

“Yeah, Uncle Roo, listen to Uncle Javy and get out of here,” Jake parroted, glaring at his best friend.

“Hey, don’t put words in my mouth,” Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado countered, leaning further into view. “You’ve just got to find something you’re better at than her and beat her at it. That’ll teach her.”

“Yeah!” Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw crowed, leaning in on the other side, completely blocking Jake from view. “I’m sure you could hustle her in darts! You and your dad have been beating us since you were big enough to handle sharp objects!”

“Alright, alright, enough!” Jake shoved his way through the two other men and glared at them. “Would you mind giving me a moment alone with my daughter?”

Charlie giggled as her uncles blinked at her, then at her dad, before muttering about rudeness and walking away, waving at her as they clicked the door shut in the distance.

“Sorry about those animals,” Jake joked but Charlie shook her head.

“No, it’s okay. I missed them too.”

“Ah. I see how it is,” he pouted.

“Oh, c’mon, dad. You know I miss you most.”

Jake smiled softly, gazing softly at his little girl. “Yeah, I miss you most too.” He sighed. “Listen, kiddo, I…I wanted to tell you something. I—”

“Alright, girls!” Penny called. “Time to switch and let the next batch of girls have their turn.

“Maybe you can tell me next week?” Charlie suggested as she prepared to log off, her heart panging at the thought of not seeing her dad for another week, but the lack of communication was supposed to simulate not always being able to talk to your family while you’re overseas. Plus, it made things equitable for those who had parents in the military, because they wouldn’t have to hear their cabinmates talking about frequent talks with their folks.

Jake nodded with a sigh. “Yeah, I guess so. Hey, punk?”

“Yeah, dad?”

He grinned. “I love you lots.”

“I love you lots too,” she murmured, feeling herself choke up at the pang of homesickness she felt. “I’ll see you next week, okay?”

“Okay, kiddo. Bye.”

Charlie blinked at the black screen before slowly standing up and walking away, only pausing to glare at Abby as she strolled by and sat in the same cubicle she had just been using.

Her uncles were right. When the time came, she would whoop that prissy girl’s butt in darts, just like her daddy had taught her.

“But mum!” Her Aunt Natasha smothered a chuckle at Abby’s affronted tone. “You and Uncle Bob promised!”

Her mother sighed, pressing her fingers into her eyelids. “I know, love. I’m sorry. But having a small spat with another camper doesn’t mean your uncle can drop everything and come to get you. I’m sorry.”

“But…but…”

“What’s this about, kiddo?” Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace asked from her position next to Abby’s mother. “I know you, you don’t quit on something just because some little bit-ter girl gave you grief.”

Abby giggled weakly at her aunt’s poor attempt at covering the near curse.

“What is it, darling?” her mum leaned closer, close enough for Abby to make out the small buttercup flower tattoo on her clavicle where it peeked out from her neckline. She had seen that tattoo her entire life and it always brought her comfort. She knew from experience that it was the reason her aunt and uncle always called her mum Buttercup.

“She said that I was prissy and snooty and that my mommy and daddy must’ve paid a lot of money for me to be able to ride like I do,” she almost whispered, but she knew from the pain in her mother’s eyes that she had heard her.

“Oh, baby, I…”

“Yeah, no, I was right the first time. What a little bit—”

“Nat!” Buttercup cried, whipping her head around to stare at her best friend. “Not helping!”

“What? You want me to just sit here while someone insults our girl?”

“Yes, I want you to sit there and let me handle it!”

Nat rolled her eyes and stood, half disappearing from frame. “Well, in that case, I’m just gonna go. Bye, kiddo.”

“Bye Auntie Nat,” Abby called at her aunt’s retreating back.

Buttercup sighed again, rubbing her eyes. “Sorry, baby. I know that talking about your father is a sensitive subject—”

“Yes, because I don’t know anything about him!”

“I…I know,” Buttercup murmured, leaning in closer to the screen. “And I know we should’ve had a conversation about him a long time ago, but…”

Abby’s shoulders heaved and she leaned in close too. “I know. I’m sorry, mum.”

Buttercup smiled softly. “My sweet girl…you have nothing to be sorry about. I…I’ll tell you what. We’ll have a girl’s day when you get back and we’ll have that conversation.”

“You promise?”

“I swear.”

“Thank you, mum.”

Buttercup smiled at her through the screen. “You shouldn’t have to thank me for having a much-needed conversation with my growing daughter. And in the meantime, please just ignore this girl. I’m afraid that engaging in more competition with this girl will escalate the situation beyond either of your control.”

“But mum!”

“Just ignore her. She’s probably taking something wrong in her life out on you.”

“So, you want me to be the bigger person?”

“I know it’s not fair, but yes. I know you have the same competitive spirit as your uncle and Nat, and that you need that competitive spirit to make it at the Naval Academy and at Top Gun, but right now you’re just a kid. So, please, just let it go.”

“Mum, I—”

“Alright, girls! Say goodbye and let the next group have a chance!” Penny called.

“Abby, promise me.”

“Bye mum! Love you!”

Buttercup sighed before smiling. “I love you too, sweetheart. Take care.”

Abby smiled, feeling a small pang of loneliness as she looked at her mother’s kind face. “I’ll see you soon, mum,” she murmured before closing the tab and sighing. She had been feeling so much better about being away from home, but seeing her mother’s face made the longing for home rush back. Home was her mom, her uncle, and her Aunt Nat, where everyone understood her and nobody questioned her small, odd family. Home was not Camp Silver Star, where a girl who looked just like her gave her attitude and made her think about a huge part of her life that was missing.

“Sorry, mum,” she whispered to herself. She loved her mom and often took her advice, but not this time. She could not in good conscience just ignore this girl. That’s not how she operated. So she would find a way to put this Charlie girl in her place, whether her mother liked it or not.

While the other campers were making their phone calls home, the kids who had already made their calls or were waiting to call got to hang out in the games cabin. It was full of a mix of old and new arcade games, an air hockey table, board games, a couple of pool tables, and a dart board.

When Abby arrived at the games cabin, she immediately spotted Charlie and her friends standing at the dart board and an idea sparked in Abby’s brain. She was decent at darts, her aunt and uncle had made sure of it, and she was good at bluffing. Perhaps this was something that she could beat Charlie at.

Rolling her shoulders back, she strode over to the small group of girls and cleared her throat.

“I’ll play winner,” she declared, staring Charlie down.

The other blond smirked and nodded. “Done deal,” she chuckled and threw a dart, not daring to break eye contact.

Abby turned at the sound of cheers and gasps, and saw the dart sticking directly in the bullseye, her heart sinking at the sight. She was, in fact, decent at darts, but clearly Charlie was more than decent. This would be more difficult than she thought.

“And that—” Charlie let the dart fly and smirked in triumph. “Is game.”

Abby sighed but something occurred to her as Charlie’s friends surrounded her for a congratulatory hug.

“I guess that makes us tied!” she called over the din, causing it to silence immediately as Charlie turned to her.

“What are you talking about? I beat you.”

“Yeah,” Abby agreed. “At darts. But I beat you in the riding ring. So that makes us tied.”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t count. I beat you fair and square.”

“If you insist…I suppose that means you’re too scared to face me at billiards.”

Charlie froze, a scowl marring her eerily familiar features. “I’m not scared.”

“Prove it,” Abby stepped up to her, gesturing to one of the empty pool tables. “Winner can even break.”

“Fine,” Charlie muttered through gritted teeth. At least she knew she was a champ at pool too. She had been playing with her dad and uncles since she was tall enough to reach the tabletop. However, she gulped as she watched Abby expertly rack the balls and chalk her cue, maybe it wouldn’t be that easy.

“Eight ball, corner pocket!” Abby crowed as the ball sunk neatly into the net.

Charlie groaned, leaning on her pool cue. They had been pretty evenly matched up until one of Charlie’s stripes had ricocheted wrong and sunk one of Abby’s solids. After that, Abby had proceeded to sink every one of her balls neatly, ending with the solid black eight ball. Charlie had never seen anything like it, not even when her dad was playing against Javy and Rooster.

Abby approached her, her hand outstretched with a small, taunting grin gracing her face. “Good match. I believe that makes us 2-1.”

Charlie smacked her hand away as a bolt of frustration tore through her. “I told you! Your little stunt while riding didn’t count! Besides, even if it did count, Rosita did all the hard work anyway!”

“Then I suppose it was Champ who did all the hard work while you were riding the course!”

“That’s not true and you know it! I’ve spent my entire life on the back of a horse! You’re only a half decent rider because your mommy and daddy paid for you to be.”

Abby fought back the tears that almost always automatically pooled in her eyes at the mention of her parents. “Stop. Saying. That. You don’t know the first thing about me!”

“Or. What? You gonna sic your mommy and daddy on me?”

The two girls were nose to nose, their friends and fellow campers huddled around them in a circle, anxious to see exactly what was going to happen.

“Ahh!” Abby’s cry was sharp and painfilled as she pushed Charlie away from her, but Charlie had been working on her father’s ranch since before she could walk and she wasn’t so easily swayed.

“That’s it!” She grabbed for Abby, but before she could make contact, she felt a firm hand grip her arm and looked up to see Penny standing above them, holding the two of them apart as her nostrils flared.

“I will not tolerate any fighting in this camp,” she stated stonily, glaring between Charlie and Abby. “And from what I’ve heard, the two of you have been at each other’s throats all day.”

“W-what are you going to do with us?” Abby murmured, her eyes heavy with fear.

“Send us home?” Charlie tacked on hopefully.

Penny sighed heavily. “No. The two of you will be assisting with extra chores around the camp instead of participating in group activities for two weeks. And…you will be removed from your cabins and placed into a smaller cabin. Together.”

Charlie gasped. “You can’t—”

“And you will be there for the rest of your stay. Together. Amelia will come get you for your meals and escort you to the dining hall, where you will be allowed to sit with your friends. Other than that, you will be living together, cleaning together, and working together until you two can figure out how to get along.”

“Mrs. Mitchell—”

“Aunt Penny—”

“My decision is final. You have ten minutes to grab all your belongings and to meet me by the trail head. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Mrs. Mitchell.”

“Yes, Aunt Penny.”

“Good. You are dismissed.”

Penny sighed as she sat at her desk, her small office only lit by her desk lamp and the faint hint of moonlight trickling in from the window. It had been a long day. Between Amelia hunting her down and explaining that there were a pair of doppelgängers at camp, Karen’s report about a verbal altercation during riding practice, and one of her younger campers running to tell her about two girls getting into an argument in the games cabin, she knew she deserved the small glass of whiskey she was currently sipping on. The campers were safe, the security systems were set, and Amelia had opted to sleep close to the smaller cabin where her two problem campers were now housed, claiming that she’d be able to step in before any blood was shed if the two girls went at it again.

Penny sighed again, rolling her neck before looking at the photo frame she had on her desk.

“I don’t know, Mav,” she whispered to the portrait of her late husband, dressed in his military whites as he waited for her to come down the aisle. “Maybe inviting Charlie and Abby here at the same time was a mistake.” She laughed quietly before taking another sip of her drink. “I know, I know. You would’ve wanted me to invite them the second I opened this place, but I wanted to have a year or two experience before I tried to do…this.” She shook her head. “They’re just so angry at each other. And at themselves. God, they remind me so much of Amelia after I split from her dad. But at least she was old enough to understand. And I wasn’t hiding a whole sibling from her either.” Penny drained her glass and leaned in close to the picture. “I know. You’re right. It’s my duty to try to fix this…the way you wanted to before you died.” Penny sighed shakily and wiped her eyes. “I miss you, Mav. I know you would’ve known how to bring Charlie and Abby together if you were here. I’ll do my best. I love you.”

With that, Penny pressed a light kiss to the glass of the frame, thousands of lip prints providing proof of her nightly ritual, and stood to stretch before heading off to bed, her head swimming with different ideas on how to bring the two girls together.

—————————-

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#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #parent trap au #jake hangman seresin #glen powell #jake hangman fic #as you wish fic

234 notes · View notes

lemonflavoreddishsoap · 8 months

Note

Can I request La Squadra x S/O who's taller than them? Thank you.

yes you caaaaaan! Sorry if these are, ironically, shorter HCs.

jsyk i write this with the opinion that Risotto is by far the tallest

------------------------------------------------- La Squadra with an S/O who's taller than them!

Formaggio

"Well yea, it's easy to be taller than me, heh" *insert shrinking...noises?*

The taller the S/O, the more inclined he feels to shrink himself and ride on your shoulder. Get used to it.

Bro gets on his tippy toes to kiss you. he doesn't even have to but he still does. It's kind of cute?

Illuso

"No you're not."

Unless you're taller than him by like. A foot or some shit. He is adamant you two are at least the same height.

He doesn't bring it up unless you do but...he subtly tries to make himself seem taller. It's so fucking petty, you decide if it's annoying or charming :/

Prosciutto

"Alright, and?"

He probably cares the least about your height. Sure, you're taller than him. So what? Unless his head is at like. boob level 24/7 or something somehow, he doesn't care.

Unless you bring it up, or poke fun at him being shorter. You better think his glares are sexy 'cause....

If you're tall enough for it to matter, he'll do the "pulling you by the collar into a kiss" thing

Pesci

"Being near you...feels so secure...."

He loves it!!!! When you hug him it feels like you're completely surrounding him...like, not literally, but the idea is so comforting!

I was going to say you should rest your chin on top of his head but...um...how sturdy is his hair?

If you're happy with your height, he'll bring it up a lot when he compliments you.

Melone

"DI MOLTO"

"Is your whole family like that?"

Excited to know if it's something that runs strong in your genetics. No particular reason. Trust me.

Like Pesci, he doesn't have any issues with having a taller s/o. It's just another lovely aspect about you <3

Ghiaccio

"Okay fine, I get it! For fucks sake!"

This poor guy. To be honest, he really doesn't care that you're taller than him, he thinks its fine. But people won't leave him alone about it

Yeah he's an "angry little gremlin thing" but they gotta stop dragging his s/o into it...it kind of sours the height difference a little.

But like I said, he really doesn't have any issues with it. If you can get past how much the comments annoy him, you can probably see how much he likes your chin on top of his head, or how you look so slightly down on him when your faces are so close....gah sorry what was i doing-

Risotto

"Be nice. They're are not scary."

yes you are. my lactose intolerant ass envies you. what the actual fuck.

I guess that's a pro about him being with someone taller than him, that he can't intimidate his s/o with his height? That's not to imply that he's intimidated by you though!!

Unless people are causing a fuss about it though, Risotto doesn't mind your height. I don't think physical appearance means much when it comes to partners to him? Just my personal feeling.

#I feel like this was a bit rusty. probably because it's shorter #la squadra #jjba x reader #la squadra x reader #formaggio x reader #risotto x reader #ghiaccio x reader #illuso x reader #pesci x reader #jjba #melone x reader #prosciutto x reader #ive come to realize my headcanons are rarely ever 100% fluffy #like i often bring up annoying/not totally fun parts of characters in the hcs #i kind of do it naturally but #is it..something people like?#its more realisticish i guess but at the same time i get why some people may not wanna be surrounded by their favorite characters flaws #in random x reader writing #i am! overthinking! but if i can get peoples answers on this anyways it would be nice

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monsterblogging · 2 months

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So, it finally clicked that while the average person does in fact broadly comprehend that people are neither good nor evil - they're good and bad, and have free will - they also can't understand why some people would fully commit themselves to completely awful causes or to being a terrible person throughout their entire lives. They can't really picture how this works, because they can't imagine themselves choosing to die on a hill of Being A Terrible Person.

This void in their comprehension is where the myth of the Ontologically Evil Person is very likely to come and settle in sooner or later, because it seems to finally provide an answer that makes sense of otherwise senseless cruelty and violence. Agonizing questions like "Why would my boyfriend spend so much energy on making me feel like shit and breaking me down?" "Why would this historical figure decided to kill all of these people?" and "Why would this guy go start a cult and murder everyone?" are finally given an answer, and the formerly-bewildered person finally has some peace of mind.

Because of this, the myth of the Ontologically Evil Person is incredibly hard to get out of people's minds once it takes root. For one thing, bad ideas are like bad habits; it doesn't really work to tell people to Just Stop With Them, because without something else to take its place? They're going to fall back on it.

And if somebody's been traumatized from abuse? The last thing they want to hear is that they're basically dehumanizing their abuser and that's not cool, because it feels to them like the other person is taking their abuser's side and telling them to get fucked. Even if this not what's happening, the survivor's brain is currently operating on fight/flight/fawn/freeze mode, and a brain operating fight/flight/freeze/fawn mode is keyed to making snap decisions to try and remove you from the danger as soon as possible, which means categorizing everything into black and white. This person couldn't care less about the history of eugenics right now; literally all they care about is being safe.

"Okay, so if the Ontologically Evil Person doesn't exist, how the hell do you explain those fuckers over there?" some of you are probably asking.

Here's the deal. Literally every human being alive can and will do terrible things if they're sufficiently scared and desperate. They're in no position to appreciate that nearly all asshole behavior can be explained by a lack of critical social and self-management skills, or by a lack of access to self-improvement (including being too traumatized to trust means of self-improvement).

People who are scared, insecure, and under high levels of stress will often cling to anything that makes them feel better, because they want to feel safe and secure and not in psychological and/or physical agony. (Stress does an absolute number on your body, too.)

Being reliant on a shitty behavior, belief system, or product for some measure of feeling secure and safe is how you get people saying things like "If I didn't act mean, everyone would just walk all over me!" or "I was really depressed before I found this, so if I gave it up I'm going to get depressed again, and I might hurt myself." (And there might be some truth to this one! This might indeed happen if they give it up cold turkey, and without finding an alternative!) It's how you get people conducting """scientific""" studies to """prove""" that their bigotry is totally justified and not at all irrational. ("Well of course these people are genetically inferior, they wouldn't be poor and disease-ridden if they weren't... what do you mean, systemic inequality and uneven healthcare access? No that's obviously fake and made up by More Bad People.")

People also act in unhealthy ways to deal with personal insecurities implanted by parents or society. You have people out there whose parents drummed it into their heads that second place was for worthless losers, or that no one would love them if they didn't look or act a certain way. You have people who absorbed the idea that acknowledging the basic humanity of shitty people means that they have to forgive them and personally help them get better and just suffer through the abuse in the meantime.

This is how people choose to die on the hill of Being A Terrible Person. They weren't ontologically evil. They were scared, and they thought they saw a fortress on the top of that hill that would keep them (and perhaps also their loved ones) safe.

#evil #morality #people #shitty people #abuse #radicalization

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wazzappp · 7 months

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@quasar-crew MY BRAIN FINALLY LET ME FUCKING DRAW SHIT LETS GOOOOOOOO.

Ok so all of these ideas are seriously impacted by quaser and polarspaz's amazing fic which you can read here and also this one called undertow. The combined might of these two fics are giving me brainrot that could make Ethan Winters jealous.

I love seeing everyone give Leon mandibles. Seriously. Mandibles for the win. Bug boys stay winning ong frfr. BUT. I wanted to try and do something slightly different because I saw the regenerators in the remake and went JESUS CHRIST WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT ITS HORRIFYING and then proceeded to watch like 3 speculative biology videos about how they work.

I have given himb. Teef. When in doubt just add more teef this always works no exceptions.

I had some VERY OBVIOUS Xenomorph inspiration I'm not even gonna pretend like I didnt. However I am very proud of his tail. Ive essentially created a design that allows it to turn into a saw once its impaled someone. If the blade of the tail gets caught halfway through someones torso? Shaboom. The spines flex and you've got an automatic bone saw now cut that guy in half.

I also have some speculation about how the plaga itself mutates the body.

Given that in game the infecting agent is called a 'toxin' I can only assume that the plaga is mutating its hosts with a geneotoxin. A genotoxin is a chemical agent that causes chromosomal damage and/or mutations. Usually these mutations refer to cancer, but the plaga could absolutely be making something specialized to mutate a host in a way it deems beneficial. This would mean that the plaga would probably be pulling nutrients/calories/protien/WHATEVER it needs from Leons body, and using it to create and refine this toxin.

Also, the black blood vessels leads me to believe that the plaga is spreading this toxin through the cardiovascular system, so I made a diagram that includes 'barbs' in the left ventricle and left atrium. I figure the toxin would be essentially 'hitching a ride' to the oxygenated blood that would then spread throughout the entire body. That also got me thinking about how much I see Leon coughing up some kind of black substance. I think that could be his body purging materials that the plaga has deemed 'waste'. So genetic material that it doesn't think is needed would be coughed up. So. Uh. I guess he's basically coughing up his own rotten insides. That gets worse the longer I think about it.

#thanks for suggesting that I make a version of infected leon quaser this was really fun #I have some ideas for like. not just the torso. but I got a little carried away. might add on more later #my art #digital art #resident evil #leon kennedy #infected leon #sketch #fic rec #seriously fucking read those fics. top tier body horror on fucking GOD frothing at the mouth writhing on the ground need m o a r #everyone is infected au

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mageofseven · 1 year

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The Boys-Ranked from Loves Kids to Childfree

Just a random post idea, ranking all of the guys from those who want and need to have kids to those would rather do without.

Despite me writing dozens of posts with these men as dads, I do think some of them would prefer to not have kids.

•▪︎▪︎◇°●♡●°◇▪︎▪︎•

Loves Kids

Beel- it would be a crime if this man never became a daddy.

Diavolo- this lonely man has so much love to give and wants to be a better father than his was to him! He also kinda needs an heir but that's honestly less important to him.

Asmo- loves children and believes his would be the cutest of them all! Another man with a lot of love to give, but might not truly understand just how much a person has to sacrifice as a parent.

Mammon- Another lonely ass man who would love his kids above all else. Knows he really needs to get his shit together and debt issue figured out first though and that's the tough part.

Lucifer- Loves kids, but has already raised seven siblings (or like, 6 siblings and technically a son). This man is tired and would prefer not to raise anymore children, but if one popped into his life in any sort of way, he'd still love them and do his best for them.

Simeon- Loves kids, but does not invision himself a parent. Angels raise siblings, not their own offspring so the idea of being a parent doesn't even come to mind.

Levi- this man is very conflicted on the matter. He's lonely and likes the idea of having a little being for him to love and be loved back. However, kids would require him to change most aspects of how he lives his life and this man is not okay with that.

Barbatos- likes children, but would prefer not to have any of his own. This man works 24/7 and feels it would be unfair to any child he could potentially bring into this world. That and his ability to see into the future is genetic and would be pure torture for anyone not trained with it so he thinks it would be cruel to risk a child of his inheriting such power.

Satan- has very little experience with children and sees no reason for him to have them. Doesn't fully understand the interest in dedicating his life to another being or see any positive aspects of such since his own childhood was so... complicated, to say the least.

Solomon- this old man has very little interest in kids and honestly, finds the idea a bit daunting. Either his kids would inherit his immortality and watch people they care about die or Soli would have to watch his kids grow up and die in what would feel to him like a blink of an eye.

Belphie- oh devil, he can't stand them. Had to deal with Satan as a kid and though Satan was...very unique as children come, Belphie carries that experience with him to this day. Sees kids as something forced on people where you can no longer have your own feelings or take care of yourself because you're expected to only look after them.

Childfree

#obey me #obey me otome #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me brothers #obey me undateables #obey me diavolo #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me barbatos

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lycheedr3ams · 8 months

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Witcher!könig

an idea came to me today: witcher!könig

more below the cut

if you're not familiar with the world of the witcher, click here to learn about the game and world. but in short, it's a dark fantasy set in medieval times where monsters, sorceresses, and witchers exist. witchers are monster hunters. witchers train from childhood to fight monsters, and undergo genetic mutations once they have passed all the trials. because of this genetic mutation, they're seen as freaks. remind you of anyone? (konig is not a freak, but many people in-game think he is)

there are a few different witcher schools (think of them as factions, they're not actual schools), and each school's pupils tend to have similar characteristics that define that school. witcher!könig is definitely from the school of the bear. I decided this not only because they do their training in harsh mountain regions, but also because of this quote i found from the wiki:

Witchers of the Bear School, unlike the Wolves or Griffins, tend to be loners and do not forge strong bonds with their brethren, and so them meeting on the Path can even lead to bloodshed. This is because of the philosophy of the school's founder, who believed that witchers should focus only on the job aspect of their profession. He thought that any code or knightly virtues were just inflated nonsense to feed the ego, and thus favored autonomy above all else.

I think this suits könig so much. i can just see him being this gruff, quiet loner witcher. i think he'd prefer to camp outside or live in the countryside eventually rather than in the major cities. also, witchers cannot reproduce but tend to be very horny, so i can also see him sleeping around A LOT lmao. overall, witchers are absolute fucking badasses, but they're spurned by most of society because of their more-than-humanness from the genetic mutations, along with religious propaganda that preaches against them

would you guys be interested in possibly a witcher!königxfem!reader? I'm undecided on if the reader should be a sorceress, or a village girl that witcher!könig meets, maybe does a contract for her, and falls in love with her obviously

variations of bear school armor on Geralt

....

i was going to say that witcher!könig had been cursed with lycanthropy and had to hide this from other witchers, but then i did some research on the lore and apparently, witchers cannot become werewolves. so scratch that lol

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mueritos · 2 years

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im glad that people r clowning on that detrans person who went viral on twitter for blaming trans people/hrt for his baldness and normal male genes, but i really hope this can at least wake up some transmasculine people, ESPECIALLY white transmasculine people.

many BIPOC transmasc people already have standards of whiteness imposed onto us, but we do not cry wolf when our genetics cause the male secondary characteristics that they do. many of us are hairy, many of us have thick and coarse hair, some of us get extremely deep voices, etc and etc. BIPOC transmascs already have to deal with the masculinization of our bodies even before HRT because many of us cannot achieve white standards of womanhood. it is just also incredibly ignorant to shed tears over normal secondary sex characteristics that everyone on HRT are informed about. Just because you have male pattern baldness, an adams apple, and a low voice doesn’t mean you suddenly lose your worth as human being. white transmascs who successfully performed white femininity and desperately still cling onto it or try to be a hairless pretty twink after HRT,,,PLEASE understand that you cannot control the way HRT reacts to your body. You cannot complain about not looking like a beautiful twink because you cannot control how your genetics and HRT will masculinize your body. Like holy fuck.

there is definitely a time and a space for detrans people to discuss their journeys. Many of them don’t regret HRT, many of them just simply realized they don’t need to be binary passing. But when we center detrans experiences as the reason why HRT needs to be stopped, why trans people are making “serious mistakes” to their bodies...yea I dont care how much you hate yourself. You do not need to make your insecurities everybody elses problem.

I genuinely hope this makes some white transmasc people realize that its okay to look like a normal dude. Some of us feel euphoric by the male pattern baldness. Some of us love our hairy arms and legs. Some of us love being men. Some of us love loving men. Some of us love having friendships with men. There is nothing wrong with being a man. The biological essentialism of vagina=good and penis=bad is not just a gender issue, it’s a race issue as well. These ideas are inherent to whiteness; when you say you distrust all men, when you say they all deserve to die...this means ALL men...Black men, queer men, transmen, Asian men, Latino men, Indigenous men, men who are disabled, men who are GNC, lesbians who are men, butches....

Having a caution toward men or male presenting people because of patriarchy, sexism, and misogyny? Fine. Hating them, vilifying them, viewing them as inherently predatory and evil? No. Thanks for making us feel like we’re all dangerous, that definitely does nothing to the male pysche, and thanks for conveying that anyone with a vagina is inherently good.

god. destroy white ideas of gender and sexuality already. you guys are just so damn annoying. we cannot get an ounce of solidarity because of you guys.

#muerto talks #hrt #trans stuff #masculinity #sorry i became a man and sorry i love being a man and having masculinity and loving men #did you know u cud have nice relationships with men? did you know they can be your friends too?#non men really arent helping in the whole uplifting men who want to create a healthy masculinity #when u shut down our attempts at that you are literally telling us you want us gone #thanks a bunch #im so annoyed #ive just been hearing irl and online so much i hate men discourse #its all so terfy and white and bio essentialist

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bokutosmochi · 1 year

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MAKE HIM JEALOUS! ♡ GETO SUGURU featuring wingman!gojo satoru

geto suguru x fem!reader

ingredients? gojo's sick and tired of hearing you fawn about geto and geto fawn about you so he decides to take matters into his own hands, and that's bad news for both you and geto.

what's it? crack, kind of

allergen warning/s? jujutsu high teacher!geto au, wingman!gojo is a warning in and of itself tbh, gojo calls himself "daddy" twice, reader wears short dresses, mentions of going to bars, nonconsensual filming (just making out), gets a little heated at the end

if you don't like gojo, this may not be for you because his wingmaning ways is questionable lol.

sugar level? 5.4k

regulars? @tokyometronetwork @tahonet

parlor's note? this is tied with clingy mammon in the poll that i made, but in celebration of the new trailer and visuals, i decided to post this one first <33 enjoy!!

bon appetit!

from beside you, gojo poked at the puff of your cheek with the end of the plastic fork in his hand as he shamelessly devoured the strawberry cake that was supposed to be for two -- you opted out of it last minute when lost your appetite upon seeing something that made your stomach churn uncomfortably.

"c'mon, sweetcheeks. it's not like suguru's a manwhore." his mouth is full of the spongy delicacy and you had no idea how you understood him, but you did.

he was right though. girls and boys may be fawning over geto left and right, but he never reciprocated their affections nor take advantage of their attraction to him. most of the time, he'd just smile at them politely then bow as he thanked them. and most of the time, gojo would clasp a hand on his back as if proud of how people fawned over his best friend.

unfortunately, one of the people who fawned over his best friend was you. now, having geto suguru as the person you had a crush on wasn't the worst thing that could have happened. it's certainly a better option than catching a crush on the annoyingly immature white-haired sorcerer, but the amount of attention he got didn't help with your confidence, especially since a lot of pretty girls who looked like they won the genetics lottery frequented his instagram dms as well. it made you second guess yourself at times you swore to finally tell him your feelings which was an embarrassingly large number of times because you've been friends with geto since you were children, and now, with the addition of a certain gojo satoru, you were teachers at jujutsu tech.

the moment right now was just one of those times. if you've kept track - which gojo did, because he's gojo - this would have been number three hundred and sixteen. the three hundred and sixteenth failed confession attempt.

you went to the bakery nanami recommended, he said that it's where he got his daily sandwich back when he worked as a salaryman, and bought their strawberry cake. the kind girl who worked behind the register told you that it was limited edition, only available during the season where the strawberries in the area were especially juicy and sweet. it was paid for with the intention of successful love confessions and being eaten together by you and geto, but when you saw him getting friendly with a girl outside campus, you quickly threw it to gojo who was waiting patiently for the opportunity, though he did defend themself saying but sweetcheeks, i swear to the gods i did not want it to happen this way with an icing-laced grin that did not help his case at all.

"yeah but still," you retorted to his previous statement about geto not being a manwhore. "asking a guy who gets asked out on a daily basis to go on a date with you is nerve wracking." you picked on the skin around your fingernails.

gojo hummed thoughtfully from his place on your left as he bit into one of the fruits. "yeah, i guess you should be scared to ask out suguru. after all, it's not like he knows you inside and out and realizes how much of a catch you are." he grins at you, a dollop of whipped cream on the corner of his mouth; his tongue peeped out to slide through it.

"tell ya what," he roughly wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you to him. "let's go shopping tomorrow, okay? my treat. let's buy you a pretty little dress to get your pretty little head off of the boy problems, 'kay?" he stands up and wanders away just as geto sits down on your other side. "what was that about?"

you couldn't help but shrug at him. after all, with gojo, who knew? "god knows."

gojo texted you all the information you needed that night when you were done with your missions and out of school premises.

{from [blue gatorade-eyed menace]: tomorrow. we'll pick you up at your apartment at about ten in the morning. we're going shopping for dresses, so wear something easy to put on and off. peace ✌🏼}

you tried to text him back, asking him about the we in we're picking you up in his text, but didn't get a response back though you're sure he's still awake.

so now it's tomorrow and you're dressed in a casual little black dress with mary jane shoes and white knee high socks. you've already showered, eaten breakfast, brushed your teeth, and packed everything you needed in a neat bag, yet gojo still had no response to the question you asked him yesterday night. you had a festering feeling you wouldn't get one and you'd just have to find out who else he meant by we, although if you were being honest with yourself, you already had a pretty good idea of who it's going to be. one, it was just another person who completed your circle - ieiri shoko did like joining in every now and then when she needs some more chaos in her life - and two, geto, the whole reason that gojo's setting this situation up in the first place.

it's ten fifteen - of course the strongest sorcerer is fashionably late, the way he always is - and you're sat down on your loveseat, bouncing your leg, anxious for what it is gojo has planned out for not just you, but your shared best friend too. you didn't exactly trust the man to not embarass you in front of the black-haired sorcerer for more reasons than what you could count.

you retrieve your phone out of your bag, pressing the power button in order to see if the man send a message, saying anything about cancelled plans - that would only happen if luck happened to be on your side - since they were taking so long. there was none, and when you put the device back where it belongs, you hear a car honk in front of your house, a door slam shut, then a shout. "hey sweetcheeks! get your fine ass out of the house!" you rolled your eyes and left then.

gojo was leaned against the black, sleek, phantom rolls royce he brought for the occasion, a mischievous smirk on his face, and his arms crossed against his chest. when he spotted you, his grin grew even larger as he approached you and threw an arm over your shoulder as you locked your house. "don't take everything i say to heart and flatter yourself, kay? everything's part of the plan."

you didn't need to whisper the way you did since the other man was inside the car which had all windows rolled all the way up, but you did it regardless. gojo already had his back to you, strolling down the pebbled path in front of your house, whistling to himself "the what? what do you mean the plan?" you wanted to catch up to him, to grab him by the shoulder - even though you know it's technically not possible unless he lets you - and ask him what he means by that, why the plan includes him being flirty(?) with you, but the bastard warped quickly got inside the car when he sensed your presence getting close to him.

he looked so smooth doing it too. leaving geto is none the wiser. well, if only you didn't glare at the white-haired menace from where you stood in front of the driver's car door where he sat, before deciding that it was pointless - gojo's as stubborn as a mule - and hopping into the backseat. "what was that about?" one of geto's eyebrows were raised in amusement, looking at you through the mirror. "nothing" was all you grumbled out before looking out through the window and effectively ending the small conversation.

"alright, let's go gang!" gojo cheered, pumping his fists into the air from the front seat as he pressed down on the gas pedal and with that, the three of you were off.

he was a fast driver, so the car ride flew by. you did not even get the opportunity to do some sight seeing as everything was a blur. you stopped looking at the outside world after a while as it would most likely just give you a headache. gojo was behaving strangely throughout the whole time though, pretty over there in the backseat said she needed a new party dress and don't go dozing off on me, sweetheart he smirked at you.

when you got to where he was driving you, you realized that you were no longer in a part of tokyo you were familiar with. the mall standing in front of you as well as the surrounding were unfamiliar.

"never been here before, baby?" gojo's head was tilted to the side, catching your chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing you to look up at him and stare right into his eyes. "just hold onto my arm the whole time, yeah? and cross your fingers you won't get lost."

"you lovebirds done?" a deep voice came from behind you. you momentarily forgot about geto because of how much gojo was distracting you with his "plan" you still didn't know the details about so you whipped around backwards in surprise. "yep!" the white haired sorcerer said, popping the p in the word as he threw an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him.

little did you know, he looked over your head and winked at geto who was narrowing his eyes at his friend. "sorry, suguru. it's either you make a move on her or i will" he mouthed out mockingly before walking towards the entrance.

"okay! how about we get some lunch first. i'm starving." gojo turned towards geto who was avoiding looking at your figure. instead, he kept on focusing on satoru's face or elsewhere in the building. "yeah, sounds good." was his short answer.

much to gojo's relief, it seemed like you were playing along to the song he has been strumming. getting geto to finally muster up the courage to ask you out might be easier than he initially thought.

"where'd ya wanna go for lunch, pretty?" he turned to you, lowering his head so he'd be at eye level with you. on top of that, he also smoothly slid his glasses down the bridge of his nose to expose his eyes, what many people considered to be his greatest asset, physical attraction wise. if gojo wasn't your friend and if you didn't have such a strong feeling of affection and longing towards his best friend, you might have fainted right then and there. many people would kill to be in your position right now, that's something you're sure of -- along with that, you're also sure that those aforementioned people do not know how utterly annoying gojo satoru is.

"i'm craving ramen." you blinked at him, not pulling away from him or getting flustered by the intense eye contact. "d'you know if there's a good ramen place here?"

"i know just the place." he grinned, booping your nose and throwing an innocent look towards geto. "you up for some ramen, suguru?"

the long-haired man hoped that you weren't looking at him right now, him who is gritting his teeth at his second best friend -- he's seriously thinking about giving the title to ieiri instead. "sure. ramen sounds good." his broad shoulders were stiff and there was a forced smile on his face.

he continued to walk behind you and gojo on the way to the ramen place, letting the two of you to lead the way. his arms were crossed and the look on his face was positively dangerous. the playful glint in his eyes that was usually there when the three of you spent time together wasn't there and he was glaring at everything he saw. he looked more intimidating than he does most of the time, and more intimidating than he does whenever he gets send out on missions.

because with those missions, he's confident in his abilities to get them done and exorcise - or sometimes ingest - the curse he needed to get rid off, but in this situation, he didn't know if you returned his feelings for you or if you had a thing for gojo. after all, the bastard told him that he has a thing for you -- the first step of his magnificent plan.

on the car ride to your house, gojo adopted a serious demeanor and asked geto about his feelings for you, telling them that he likes you as well. look man, i know you like her, but if you're not gonna ask her out, i will. i'm not gonna waste any of our times. the seriousness in gojo's voice when he said those words frightened him a bit because he can count the times his friend has been serious on one hand and this just happened to be one of those times.

gojo satoru, you are a royal pain in the ass.

between that and the teasing looks the man has been sending him the moment you got here, he didn't know whether gojo meant it or not.

goddamnit satoru, why must you be like this?

he knew the reason - because he wouldn't stop telling gojo about how much he wanted to ask you out instead of actually asking you to go on a date with him - but it's not like he's going to admit to that anyway.

there wasn't much improvement in either man's behavior when they got to the restaurant. gojo continued to flirt with you, you subtly flirted back -- you didn't reject his advances and shyly looked down, silently thanking him whenever he gave you a compliment. your arms brushed against each other's often, and geto did not find you moving away from gojo, you let gojo feed you one of the deep fried gyozas he ordered, and let gojo tend to the stray strands of hair that was falling onto your face as you blew on the noodles, brushing it to tuck it behind your ear. and finally, geto still sported that annoyed, tight smile on his face. by the way he gripped his chopsticks tightly, skin stretching over the carpals under it and veins going up all the way up to his forearm bulged, the white-haired man sat beside you could tell that your mutual friend was getting pissed off. it would only take just a few more shoves before he broke.

personally, you do not know if this was the best route to take; making your best friend and crush jealous, but then again, you assumed that suguru talked to satoru about his girl problems more than he did with you -- and you weren't wrong thinking that considering the fact that suguru's girl problems orbited around being unable to muster up the courage to ask you out. satoru probably knew what he was doing, right?

"we should go and buy my baby's dress now before he forget about it or spend all our money, hm?" gojo suggested making you nod. he had a hand on your lower back as you led them to your favorite store to finally begin shopping. "and dontcha worry about the price tag baby, daddy's got ya covered." he winked at you, whispering the words into your ear. thankfully, he didn't say it loud enough for the whole store to hear the way he usually does things, he just said it loud enough for suguru, who's walking on the other side of you to pick up. "have some fucking decorum, satoru." he grimaced, wrinkling his nose.

"don't got any!" the man chided playfully, folding both hands behind his head as he strolled around.

you definitely chose a good store to browse through. if gojo wasn't on an in-a-way mission right now, he most likely would have wandered off by himself to look through the different dress shirts and suit jackets they have. the colors they came in were appealing, pleasing to the eye, yet not well-known, and the textures were just as rare. he can go and buy things for himself the next day he doesn't have much on his plate. right now, the most important thing was how the dresses on the racks were exactly geto's type. even if you chose the most hideous one available, he's sure his friend will not be able to take his eyes off of you regardless, but then again, perhaps that has nothing to do with the look of the dress; it's simply because it's you and you're absolutely irresistible to one geto suguru.

geto who tries his best to avoid looking at you or at the assortment of dresses on gojo's arm because he knows the effect that you have on him. geto who separates from the two of you so he could browse through some clothing articles for himself. geto whose only reason for doing that is a pitiful attempt at trying to distract himself from looking in your direction, when in reality, your very presence, the scent of your cursed energy in the air suffocates him and distracts him from thoroughly looking through each article of clothing his hand grazes.

but then, when he hears a whistle in the air that's directed to him, he realizes that there really is no escaping this. "hey suguru, sweetcheeks over here wants to try on some dresses in the dressing room. you should come with." he could have said no. he should have said no, but it was like his feet had a mind of its own. he was already walking towards your direction before he processed gojo's words.

the dressing rooms were big. comparable to the areas in that say yes to the dress show that gojo promises he doesn't like even though he binge watches it every single time he finds himself stressed out.

he cleared his throat as you had your back turned to him, hanging the dresses you had picked out up on the hooks. "i've gotten a few things. you mind if i try em on now too?" his deep voice rumbled making you smile and wave your hand in front of your face.

"of course not, suguru. why're you acting so weird today." and at your words, the other man in the room bursted out in uncontrollable fits of laughter.

"yeah suguru! why the hell are you acting so weird today, huh?" he egged his friend on. gojo had no idea if you meant it that way, but he's entertained and glad you said it regardless.

geto only glared at him, taking all three of the long-sleeved button down shirts he got and getting into the main fitting room; the area you and gojo were in now was still private, just for the three of you, but there was one long couch, a circular platform in the middle of the room, and a large mirror in front of it so you'd be able to observe the clothing you debated on buying from several different angles. the area radiated sophistication and luxury, a spotless bright white color from the floor all the way up.

the first one he tried on was his least favorite. actually, he was still just debating on whether he should get it or not when gojo called his attention to go into the fitting rooms. he grabbed it on a whim, not wanting to be awkward and keep you waiting as he stared at the item of clothing. it was an off white color with gold buttons; the same thread color was used, a shimmering gold lining it. it was made out of a shiny silk, one that had geto's nose scrunching up.

it definitely looked better on the rack and would have preferred it if you didn't see him in the thing, but as soon as he unbuttoned the first button, he heard your voice ring out. "suguruuu what's taking so long?" and of course, gojo being, well, gojo, couldn't help but to follow it up with a "yeah! we wanna see what ya got already!" truthfully, the man scoffed at one of the things on geto's arms when they entered the dressing room and it just so happened to be what the black-haired sorcerer was wearing right now.

with a huff and a short prayer addressed to the gods, hoping that you didn't think he looked ridiculous as he actually did, he puffed his chest out, squared his shoulders, and feigned as much confidence as he can when he walked out of the smaller space within the fitting room.

your eyes widened and gojo didn't even bother covering up his amusement.

thankfully for geto, the next two items of clothing were much better. the three of you thought so and he even ended up with the decision to buy them.

with that ironed out, it was your turn to try things on.

the first one was a lilac-toned dress. it didn't reach mid-thigh, but didn't ride up too much if you were to sit down or bend over. the fabric was glittery, but not to the point of being obnoxious. it had a x-shaped neckline, and showed off the space between your tits. it wasn't the tightest, but still managed to flatter your figure.

"okay, what do we think?"

if you were paying enough attention, you'd see how geto's mouth hung open upon seeing you, and if gojo saw you in the same light as his friend did, he probably would have done the same. "looks good!" he said with a wink and two thumbs up.

"c-could be a little tighter, especially around the waist, but it looks good." geto didn't want you to catch on to him being more-than-flustered, and fortunately for him, he was quick to recover and give you his detailed opinion the way he always does.

"everything looks good on her though." gojo questioned him with a quirk of an eyebrow and it made the man sputter, waving his hands in front of him at both you and gojo.

"i never said it didn't look good! you look good-you always look good-i mean! it just-" you cut him off with a laugh which in his humble opinion resembles that of an angel's. "it's okay, suguru. i know what you meant."

"i might buy this one." you said, smoothing the skirt of the dress out. "it depends on the next ones. if i like this more than one of those, i'll probably buy it." and with that, you were back to the dressing room.

back where your two best friends were sat, there was a whispered one-sided arguement. "don't think i don't know what you're up to, satoru." geto glared making the other man laugh and tilt his head at him.

"oh really now? what am i trying to do then?" he snickered.

geto's fist clenched the same way his jaw did. "you're trying to make me mess up and look like a fool in front of her." was said through gritted teeth, and if anyone else was talking to him, they would probably be on their knees, begging for forgiveness because of how mad and intimidating geto looked, but gojo satoru is not just anyone else. he never was, and he never will be.

he cracks his knuckles and sinks further down into the black leather seat. "it's not my fault you get all fuzzy inside whenever you see her, isn't it suguru?" he grins at him and decides to fess up. "actually, i was trying to get you to confess to her, and guess what? she's on it too. so, are ya actually gonna do it?"

geto's eyes nearly bulged out of his eyes at what left his friend's mouth. does that mean you're aware of his infatuation with you?

who told you about it?

was it satoru? were you able to piece it together yourself? was it painfully obvious that he's painfully in love with you for the past ten years?

how long have you known?

why didn't you do anything about it?

do you find satoru provoking him by flirting with you somewhat entertaining?

do you even want him the same way he wanted you?

so many thoughts were running through his head at an overwhelming speed, but before be could reply to gojo, you were strutting out of the fitting room in a revealing light green number. it was similar to a slip dress, just a few inches shorter than the last one you modeled. it was a spaghetti strap dress and had a rectangular neckline and dipped at the front exposing your neck and collarbones; the color definitely complimented your complexion, geto thought, licking his bottom lip when he thought you weren't looking, when he thought you were too busy gawking at your own reflection because why wouldn't you? his reaction gave you confidence to be bolder, to actually flirt with him. to make it even worse for him now that he's trying to hide his feelings for you - though he recently found out that it's all for naught - was that it was backless. covering nothing of your body posteriorly other than your lower back until the dress reached the hem.

"this one's cute." you commented. the dress much more flowy than the last one, but remained to be sexy and appropriate for bar hopping whenever you - or any of your closest friends - felt the itch to do so. you held the skirt as you spun around in it, stood in the circular platform before staring at your two friends. "what do you guys think? satoru?"

"can't really put what i think into words." he clicked his tongue. "i bet suguru has something to say about that pretty little dress though."

if he was standing up, he's sure his knees would have buckled from the way you quickly turned to him expectantly with the cutest doe eyes and a shadow of a pout on your lips. if you knew about his feelings for you like satoru said, he's sure you're really out to get him, he thought. "i like the other one better." he coughed out. the pout on your lips grew as you looked at yourself in the mirror again. "this one's on sale.. but you're right!"

once again, you heard gojo tsk. "i already told ya princess. 'm your sugar daddy for the day." he smirked, eyes shifting to geto to see his reaction, see the way his eyes dim and the way he irritatingly chews on the inside of his cheek, trying to not let his annoyance show.

you seem to perk up, though, so geto couldn't let himself get angry at gojo for too long. "okay! time for the last one!" you walked into the dressing room, but before you closed the door behind you, you peeked through the gap and winked - was geto going crazy or did you specifically wink at him? - "this last one's my favorite."

surprisingly enough, for the last article of clothing you were going to model for them, neither gojo nor geto knew why you were taking so long. they didn't know if you were trying to get geto on the end of his seat, building up anticipation, or if it was just hard to put on.

from under his breath, gojo uttered out a "you better ask her out after this one." at his friend. "i'm sick and tired of the both of you talking to me about each other. it's getting annoying."

geto gaped internally at that, if the gojo satoru, the person who not only held the title of the strongest sorcerer, but also the title of the most annoying sorcerer found them annoying, then it must be worse than what he initially thought. yet even with this kind of thought, geto simply maintained his calm composure, pairing his inquisitive look directed at gojo with a raise of one of his eyebrows. "i don't think you're in any position to judge someone on them being annoying, satoru."

before the man could reply, you re-entered the room, now clad in the dress that you claimed as your favorite and shit, it's so pretty and it makes you look even prettier, and shit,

it might be geto's favorite too.

you strutted inside the room with an oh-so casual ta-da~ if what you were wearing wasn't enough to put the special grade sorcerer geto suguru to his knees.

the dress was black with cream white colored accents. it was one of those dresses that were very strappy in the back, geto can almost feel the way the skin of your back would warm his hand up whenever he's walking with you at night, guiding you through bars with a palm on the small of your back. the top part of it that's shaped like a butterfly had sequins sewn into it, while the bottom part was made out of a soft velvet-like material. the dress was just long enough to be able to cover your bottom whenever you sat down or bent over to grab something.

it was truly one of a kind, and you in that number was truly a sight to behold.

you didn't need anyone to tell you that though. one, you could see how well the dress complimented your figure, how good you look in it. and two, from the mirror you were facing, you could see the way geto's mouth was slightly hanging open and the way his eyes regarded your form the same way you regard his whenever he rolls up the sleeves of the black button down shirt he wears.

what surprises you though, was the words he spoke while he still found himself unable to strip his eyes away from you. "shit, anybody ever told you how gorgeous you are?" he feels like his mouth is dry, but for some reason, drool can peak out of the corner at any time.

you laughed lightly at him, looking at him from behind a shoulder. "every now and then, why?"

"because," he stands up, still look at you through the reflectively glass in front of you. "you're fucking gorgeous." he's in front of you now with two large warm hands placed firmly on the curve of your waist. after he put his hands on your body, he asked a small you okay with this? which you nodded to. it was all you could do, completely mesmerized and put under the spell of the mint that attacked your senses. the smell of his breath and his perfume as well as his natural scent hit you so hard it almost gave you whiplash.

he wrapped both hands around you now, his hands met at your front. "can i take you out on a date?"

you turn your head to the side and reach up to tangle your fingers into his hair; it messes up the bun he was wearing, and while usually, that would get on the man's nerves, he didn't find it in himself to be the least bit upset when it's you that's doing it. and especially since it's you that's pulling him closer, parting your lips before kissing him.

your lips move in tandem, tongues slipping into each other's mouths as you shift so your body would be facing his. one of your hand remains to be buried in his hair, while the other is wrapped around his shoulders, strong and sturdy after years of workouts and exercise. all the while his hands wander through your frame as if gojo satoru isn't in the same room as you; eventually, his left is on your back, firmly pulling you into him, while the other finds purchase on your ass, groping and grabbing shamelessly.

from in front of you, gojo scoffs. "and he tells me to have decorum." it was only when you pull away that you realize gojo has been broadcasting your whole interaction with suguru on your group chat with your shared friends via video call. your eyes widen in realization while his grin widens at a message he received. "oh, and shoko says finally."

i get: reblog

you get: gojo as your wingman

#order of the day!#order up for geto!#one matcha mochi #with a side of coconut italian ice #geto fluff #geto x reader #geto one shot #geto x you #geto fic #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk one shot #jjk x you #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen one shot #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fic

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