i am glad you're not hiding it with a smile though

anonymous asked:

Umm I am sorry for disturbing you, if it's okay, Jumin and MC playing 20 questions, and like they get to know each other's insecurities, reassuring each other and all (Same anon who requested hide and seek game XD sorry if I am annoying you)

You are never disturbing me, don’t worry! I love getting asks and requests and you’ve been very sweet. I’m happy to write this for you!

Also I had like no idea what 20 questions was before I researched it I thought I was hip with the crowd

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“Love?” Your husband approached you, curiosity painting his face. “Have you heard of a game called twenty questions?” 

“Yeah, what about it?”

“I’ve heard about it multiple times, and I’d like to play it.” He exclaimed, sitting down across from you. “Would you like to join me?” 

“Sure!” You chuckled. “What type of category do you want to do?” 

“Favorites and least favorites?” 

“Alright,” You tapped your chin, trying to come up with ideas. “How about you think of your least favorite thing, and I’ll try to guess it?” 

Jumin nodded, his mind processing through all the sorts of things before he finally spoke up. 

“Okay, I’ve got something.” He folded his lips. “It’s something that’s alive.” 

“Is it something I know about?” 

“Yes.” 

“Is it an animal?” 

“No.” 

You frowned. “A person?” 

“That’s right.” 

You had narrowed your eyes in confusion.

There was only person who came to her head straight away.

“Is it…her?”

There was an uneasy feeling that crept into your heart at the mention of his mother. 

You knew how her actions distorted his views when he was younger, and it left you a bit unsettled at the thought of her. 

He glanced away, his body tensing. “…No. She’s very close, however” 

His mother had nearly drained the family of their income, instead spending her time on reckless shopping sprees. 

She hadn’t meant any harm, you knew that much, but the affect she had was devastating. 

And it never quite clicked in her head that her actions were wrong. 

You sighed, taking his hand and squeezing it comfortingly. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-” 

“It’s okay darling, I’ve told you about her. It only makes sense that she’d be a possibility. I know you had the best intention.” 

You still could never quite bring yourself to let go of his hand. 

Yet the questions still spilled.

“Is it someone I know?” 

“Yes.” 

“Am I on bad terms with them?” 

“No.” 

One question after another, as though being read off of a list. 

Until, you reached the end.

You couldn’t wrap your head around him despising someone. 

He hadn’t told you that was the case at least. 

“I give up.” You scrunched up your nose, furrowing your brow. “Who is it?”

“I think I’m a bit glad you didn’t figure it out. It would’ve left me…a bit sad in a way.” He frowned. “It’s…me.” 

You froze.

Him? 

He hated himself?

“What…?” 

“I know…” He sighed, as though it was leaving his throat dry and voice hoarse. “I know to many I seem like the perfect person…but before I met you I was hiding behind a mask of sorts.” He tightened his grip on your hand, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles. “I hid all of my rampant emotions and knotted strings so that the world wouldn’t see what a disaster I actually was. I didn’t think they’d understand…I didn’t think they’d accept me. People prefer the seemingly perfect, cool and collected businessman, not the confused and withheld person that may be hidden beneath.” 

You soaked in his words, and crept closer to him, shifting to sit in his lap. You laid your head on his shoulder, your fingers weaving through his hair tenderly. “Well, if it means anything, I think you’re a wonderful person.” 

He warmly grinned. “You’re the first person I’ve ever opened up to, did you know?” He continued, his words soft. “You make me feel as though I could be seen for who I am by the rest of the world. It may sound odd but…you make me feel human, instead of the statue, I pretend to be. You make me feel truly loved.” 

You swore tears pricked at your eyes, your breath hitching as you sat up and gently pressed your lips against his. 

“You are truly loved.” 

He closed his eyes, truly content.

“As are you. Don’t ever forget that.” 

He wound his arms around you protectively, as if you may disappear with the next passing breeze. 

You sat in silence for a moment, simply enjoying the other’s presence until you spoke. 

“Okay, I’ve got something.” 

“Oh?” 

“It’s my favorite thing.” 

“Any free hints?” 

“No, I think it’s pretty clear.” 

And so, he began to ask.

“Is it alive?” 

“Yes.” 

“Do I know of it?”

“Yes.” 

“Is it Elizabeth 3rd?” 

“As fantastic as she is, it’s not.” You said through laughter.

“Is it an animal at all?” 

“No.” 

“So it’s someone?” 

“Yes.” 

“Is it someone I know?” 

“Yes.”

And as surprised as you were, he didn’t figure it out.

He stared, perplexion glimmering in his eyes as he looked at you. “Who is it then?” He asked. “I’ve thought of nearly every possible person.” 

You smiled. “It’s you!” 

He didn’t even appear to realize at first. “Are you sure?” 

“I’m positive!” 

“I’m…your favorite thing…” He laughed lightly. “I never thought I’d be someone’s favorite.” 

“Well, you’re mine.” You huffed. “You made me feel wanted and cared for. I always worry if I’m saying the wrong thing, or if someone dislikes me. Being abandoned is one of my biggest fears, to be…forgotten.” A chill ran up your spine. “But I don’t have to worry about that with you. I know that no matter what you’ll always stay by my side.” 

However, your chills were replaced with a loving warmth as your husband kissed your temple gently. “Personally, if you asked me, I don’t understand how others can’t see what a blessing it is that you’re in their lives.” 

“You always say such kind things.” You hummed. 

“Kind…” He smirked. “I must have gotten that kind of influence from my favorite thing.” 

“And what’s your favorite thing?”

“You of course.” 

Accidental Confession

A/N: I’M THE WORST AT NAMING MY IMAGINES I AM TRULY SORRY. I’ve never actually finished and imagine this fast… Usually it takes me days before I finally decide it’s finished and I post it. I hope you’ll like it!

Requested?:
Can you write a Steve imagine were you’re an avenger and you'r on a mission and get shot and passed out or something because of blood loss. And Steve finds you and carries you back to safety or something- saving your life. Idk I’m not very good with ideas btw your an awesome writer!!

Pairing: Steve x Avenger!reader

Words: 1,914

Warning(s): Bullets, blood loss, near death experience


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anonymous asked:

Could you do a Touka showing Hide her kagune prompt if you're feeling it? Maybe she takes off her shirt for it and he gets really flustered haha. Thanks so much if you write it, but no worries if you don't!

oooh, i am kinda feeling this one right now ♪( ´u`)

contains: ~800 words, some blood, vaguely referenced nsfw, hidetou. comes after this fic.

hope you all are having a good day~

===

Sometimes when she turns her head, Hide will wince — or look away — or stare back at her, with a smile a little wider than usual, and with just a little more tooth.

It’s so faint, so fleeting. Someone not dedicated to the necessary art of human behavior might not have noticed anything off at all. To Touka, it is obvious, but it’s only when she’s in his apartment one night that she finally understands.

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gangseeey  asked:

Hi, I'm v new to the fandom but I'm kinda stuck already. I’ve a prompt for you, if you're up for it: imagine that after Eggsy becomes an agent, the trauma from the abuse he suffered with Dean catches up with him. After Harry's death, he starts dreaming nightmares about V-day, and soon these nightmares kinda morph in to the ones with Dean until Eggsy’s dreaming of Harry beating him. When he then comes back, he starts noticing that Eggsy flinches whenever Harry makes a sudden movement. Angst pls?

welcome to the fandom! i feel fairly new as well tbh i just joined a couple weeks ago but i’m picking stuff up i think. apparently we’re all trash no matter what, no exceptions. 

so i feel bad about this, but i don’t think i can do this prompt for a couple of reasons. 1) i don’t actually have nightmares? like the closest thing i had to one ever was this weird one about colin firth being my baby daddy and impregnating me with a dildo in the shape of an arm. so like. i have no idea how to write nightmares realistically at all. because all of mine turn into random shit that i can’t even put actual words to half the time 2) i am very, very lucky to have never experienced abuse of any kind. i’ve tried to write a handful of fics that deal with this topic and i end up handling them very poorly. like i can reference it, but when it’s the focus, i end up borderline fetishizing it. which isn’t cool or okay in any way. and i don’t trust myself to handle it safely without hurting someone in the process. and i’m working on that and recognizing what i’m doing is problematic, but i’m not going to post anything to do with it until i am 500% sure i’m not being a gross little shit like i was when i was younger 

so! i recommend if you want the prompt handled, giving it to someone else with better sensitivity than i have. this is all on me being a weak ass writer, and i’m very sorry! 

i’m not going to leave you empty-handed though, so here’s something that very loosely follows your prompt. i’m very very sorry and i hope this doesn’t displease you completely! 

— 

Post-V-Day is, to put it simply, a clusterfuck. Kingsman is in shambles, with a leader dead, a handful of members dead due to the SIM cards, and another handful dead due to the implants exploding. Merlin barely trusts anyone other than Eggsy and Roxy, which means they have to handle a lot more than new agents usually had to. 

Aside from saving the world, of course. 

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itszoienotzoey  asked:

Please analyze those two kisses? :) you're like the best with analyzing fitzsimmons

Thank you! I’m glad to hear you like my meta, so here it is (and it is long):

Before I start about kisses, here are some other, similar meta I’ve already written: about Jemma’s “Do you love him?” answer (x) and about all that happened around the kisses (x). 

From the beginning: both Fitz and Simmons are very emotional in this scene. There’s just so much, so much problems and nothing is working and it’s nobody’s fault and it just hurt. Fitz just heard that Jemma loves the other guy and he must admit that it’s understandable and how weak and unworthy he sees himself in comparison. What’s interesting is that he never asked if Jemma loves him. He just goes through a list, each point stabbing him in the heart, of how great Will is. Until Jemma points out how great Fitz himself is.

As Iain and Liz said in the interview (x) Fitz’s kiss is dictated by an impulse. He was not planning or thinking, he just run out of things to say because there was no words left to express them. So he kissed her with all the passion he had. Because they’ve missed so many chances already and the time is never right and someone can hide their emotions only for this long. It’s fast and desperate and full of fire.

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glitter on the wet streets; an orphan black spy au

Super Secret Spy Organization that has wickedly talented teenage assassins is being infiltrated! Also, teenage assassins with girlfriends.

Written for sharkodactyl

Read on AO3!

.,.

“I got fifty on Sarah,” Cosima Niehaus says after a moment, practically resting her head on the window to the training room as she watches to the two figures throw punches, dodge swings.

“No way,” Art Bell says next to her, sipping his cup of coffee. “Beth’ll get her. She hasn’t missed a single mark in, like, years.“

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anonymous asked:

malec prompt: "oh i wasnt paying attention bc ur very good looking and i hit my head against this pole and oh god it's bleeding you're gunna help me with that???

Sorry this one took so long! I haven’t had the time to get to it.
Couple quick notes: 
1) They’re both human in this.
2) That address at the end there? Total BS. I know nothing of New York. >.>

               As far as Magnus was concerned there was really nothing more tedious than sitting in middle of the day New York City traffic. Everyone was on their way back to work from their lunch breaks and, dreading the return to their tedious and unloved jobs they were driving as if, rather than work, they were heading to their executions. Nothing was moving. Nothing.

               “Somebody better be dead for this sort of delay.” Magnus grumbled, sinking low in his seat.

Not that he actually wanted anybody dead. It was just that he really wanted to get home after being in LA for two weeks directing his latest fashion show. He missed his own bed. His own bathtub. His cat.

But no. Everyone was too busy not moving. And it wasn’t as if he could turn down a side-street and try a different route; he was currently in the middle of a block. Besides. The last time he’d seen a side street (which seemed like hours ago even though it was only about sixty feet behind him) the road on the other end had been just as bad.

“I’m going to die in this car.” Magnus announced to no one in particular as he slid even lower, now barely able to see out the windows.

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Without a Doubt, You're the One I Dream About

Title: Without a Doubt, You’re the One I Dream About
Warnings: None
Pairings: Louis/Harry, Zayn/Liam
Words: +13000
Summary: Louis is rich and famous. Harry works at his daughters daycare center. Zayn and Liam are madly in love. Niall is Louis’ friend with transportation benefits. Maybe, somehow, everything will work out okay. Someday.
A/N: this was going to be short but no. No that never works out for me. In the middle of writing this my computer decided to be a dipshit and malfunction, so I had go finish it on my phone. That’s why at one part the indents aren’t as indented. I know, arrest me. Well enjoy. Sorry if it sucks. Might do a sequel if ya want because I feel like it doesn’t wrap up enough. I apologize for any spelling errors or what not, I tried to fix what I could but quite frankly I’m tired. I’ll fix it more later. Enjoy xx

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theicecreambattle  asked:

Oh oh oh! You're taking prompts! Yay! Any bandit outlaw fic would be great! I can't get enough of them! ;)

Prompt: Bandit Queen meeting while they’re both disguised for a job

“You have got to be kidding me.”

He chuckled softly as he pulled her back onto her feet, somewhat glad when her hand remained upon his shoulder, the other held gently within his grip as she allowed him to continue leading her around the dancefloor. She’d known that there was something familiar about those blue eyes behind the mask, about the softness of his voice and the strange intonation he spoke with but to find out that it was the very fool who’d practically ruined every heist she’d ever planned, had beat her to every single robbery she’d spent months strategizing well, it was more than a little infuriating.

“What are you here for?” she asked in a hushed whisper, allowing him to pull her closer under the ruse of being unable to hear her though she quite enjoyed the feel of his stomach pressing lightly into her own. He smelt like forest and she had to stop herself from inhaling the very scent that she’d come to associate with home, the only scent she’d ever truly associated with safety and damn him for making her feel weak when she needed to feel strong.

He spun them quickly and she was quite impressed with the skill with which he led, the strength of his hold and his sure feet that had them moving gracefully. She had absolutely no idea how to move, had always been left immensely confused when the kind Queen had taken her in as a child and allowed her to sneak into the ballroom to watch when the King had guests over. She’d been transfixed as a child, had watched the various arm and leg movements that turned the dance into something spectacular. She was glad though that he knew what he was doing, remained pliant in his arms even as she awaited his answer. He must have sensed her impatience though for he was soon laughing as he whispered “might I say how lovely you are looking this evening m’lady.”

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anonymous asked:

I absolutely love this blog! Could you write a continuation of young Claire who got stuck in the stones and older Jamie? What happens next? Is Brianna OK?

Anonymous said:Love the au prompt of Claire frozen in time! Imagine Claire near the end of that pregnancy and Jamie worrying about her.

Follow-up to this

They’d felt the baby move, on and off, healthy jabs to Claire’s ribs and organs and swiping a foot or a hand across the walls of her womb so that Jamie could watch with a sort of wonder as his child showed every sign of life and strength. But they were both nervous about the impending birth. What if something was wrong with the baby? What if something had happened there, in the veil of time? Perhaps a demon had entered Claire’s womb, or a faerie? Claire still woke screaming with nightmares of the place, clothes soaked with sweat and her whole body trembling. God only knew how the child might be affected. 

Early on, they’d sailed to America to escape all that had happened in the Highlands. Jamie’s wife wasn’t welcome in most places, and everyone looked at them strangely. She having appeared so suddenly out of nowhere, pregnant, of all things. People didn’t believe she was Jamie’s wife; and some thought she was his mistress, his whore. The looks and whispers had been far more unbearable than the murmurs of her being a witch had ever been.

But here, on Fraser’s Ridge, life was peaceful. Fergus was off traveling along the coast in search of new tenants who would come in the spring. For now, there were just the four of them. Claire, Jamie, Young Ian- who had sneaked aboard the ship after Jenny had outright refused to allow him to join his uncle and the witch-auntie, and Fergus’ wife Marsali. Ian and Marsali had grown used to Claire and had come to love and trust her in their months of traveling together. Seeing her struggle with her pregnancy had surely helped them to see her as little more than a woman, no matter what had happened in the past.

There was a storm raging outside at the present, but the cabin was warm and comfortable, shutters closed against the snow and a warm fire burning on the hearth. Claire had been experiencing a sense of disquiet all day, though. She’d paced back and forth, feeling faint contractions. The babe was coming. Jamie was terrified (though he certainly wasn’t the only one.) He kept leaving the cabin for one thing or another, Ian trailing along after him, only to return when the cold got to be too much. They didn’t want to be there when she was giving birth, Claire knew that, but there was little choice for it now. Marsali, of course, several months along in her own pregnancy, was there to help every step of the way.

Claire had taken to bed to rest for an hour or two, Jamie curled up against her with his hands spread over her shuddering stomach. When she woke, she knew it was time. Two more hours of pushing followed, in which Ian had gone off to the pantry to hide with Rollo. But Jamie was trapped inside, Claire’s hand grasping his hard enough to break bones, were he a weaker man.

At last, a broken wail filled the room, and Claire pushed herself up some, straining to see the baby. “How is he? Is he whole? Let me see him. I need to examine him!” she demanded. She needed to know that her baby was normal, healthy, that no complications had arisen due to their time in the void. 

“Weel, ten fingers and ten toes, mo nighean donn. But I’m afraid he is missing something,” Jamie said, holding the baby in a blanket while Marsali tied off and cut the cord as Claire had taught her. 

Claire felt her stomach drop; a look of fear pulled at her face, and she tried to push herself up, reaching for the baby. “What is it? What’s happened?”

Her husband was beaming, though, eyes alight with excitement and glittering with tears of joy. He looked toward her, finally shifting over so she could take the little bundle. “The babe’s missing the very vital part that makes him a man, Sassenach, seein’ as he’s a she, after all,” he assured her as he lay the writhing baby on her chest. 

“Oh- oh! It’s a girl?” She laughed and looked down, eyes scanning the newborn before she leaned in to do a few quick checks of the baby’s vitals. Healthy. Strong lungs, surely, for the whole cabin seemed to be echoing with her cries. “Brianna,” Claire whispered. “Brianna Ellen.”

“Eh?” Jamie frowned. “What kind of name is that?”

She snorted and tilted her head back to gaze up at him for a moment. Then she looked back down at their daughter, watching as she took to her breast, quieting as she guzzled down her first meal. “You told me, when I’d gone through the stones, to name the child for your father. Seeing as he’s a she, Brianna will have to do, won’t it?”

Jamie snorted at that and bent to kiss the top of his wife’s head. “Aye. Aye, I suppose it is a beautiful name, after all. Brianna,” he echoed, elegantly rolling his tongue around the ‘r’. “She’s a sweet lass. And she’s well, Claire? Truly well?” He sat down on the edge of the bed, draped an arm around his wife, and brushed the thumb of his other hand over the baby’s cheek. Claire could tell that he was already in love.

“She’s well, Jamie. We’ve both made it through just fine.” She tilted her head up to kiss him, their lips lingering together for a moment. Then she lay her head on his shoulder. “I am very tired, though. You’ll take her when she’s finished eating?” 

His eyes widened at the thought of having the baby all to himself, a hint of worry crossing his features. But then he nodded, beaming all over again when that little hand curled around his finger. “I’ll take her, then. And ye’ll need yer rest, mo nighean donn. Ye’ve done so well.” He kissed her head again. “Thank ye. Oh, thank ye for this blessing, Claire,” he added in a whisper.

She was already dozing against his shoulder, but she smiled softly and nodded. “Thank you for loving us. For bringing us back, when we were lost.”

His arm tightened around her, free hand supporting the baby as Claire’s hold sagged. But Brianna had begun to drift off as well, so he gently took her, wrapping her up tight against the chill, and moved to sit by the fire where he could better admire this beautiful baby girl- who looked just like him. 

anonymous asked:

OMFG YOUR POSTS ARE AMAZING.YOU ARE THE STEREK QUEEN AND I WILL WORSHIP YOU. please keep being this awesome and don't stop the sterek love!!!!

OMFG YOU ARE AMAZING AND RIDICULOUSLY SWEET, ALPHA NONNIE! As for the queen bit, I am but a jester in the Sterek Court. However, I shall never stop the Sterek lovin’. 

Speaking of court(ing), Derek buys Stiles a puppy he’s been googly-eyed over for months. Maybe it’s from being around Stiles too long, but Derek’s sense of humor has become infected with a case of Stilesitis. So he purchases the puppy and puts bushy eyebrows on him knowing that’ll get a full-bodied laugh out of him. There’s something electric about hearing and seeing pure unadulterated happiness radiate off Stiles, it’s mesmerizing and addicting. Once Derek’s appropriated all the necessities for the pup, he lets him get acquainted the loft while he goes upstairs to clean. 

Stiles blows in through the door like a hurricane an hour later, “Got your text, and broke a few laws to get here fast as I could because your text is cryptic as fuck. What’s wrong?!” Stiles pants, hunched over with his hands supporting him on his knees. He frantically glances around the loft and sees no sign of Derek.

 “Derek, I swear to god you better answer me. Where the hell are you?!”

In that moment the blue eyed, bushy browed, furry little bundle of excited yapping comes bounding towards him. 

“Oh my god… Derek?!” Stiles leans down, trying to pick up Husky pup but is met with muted snarls as he’s currently busy playing tug-o-war with his pant leg.

“I thought you said you handled those witches last month!” The puppy looks up and tilts his head questioningly before padding backwards a few steps and crouching in a playful fighting stance.

“You wanna play, Sourpup?” Stiles chuckles out, kneeling on the floor. “I guess we could play for a few minutes before I take you to Deaton’s to get this sorted out.” The pup’s stout tail wags as Stiles lowers himself on the ground, mimicking his stance and letting out his own playful growl. The pup yips before charging towards him, claws scrambling to find purchase on the floor, sliding to a stop, knocking his head against Stiles’. Stiles laughs as he strokes down the pup’s back, cradling him to his chest. 

“I’m so tempted to wait until tomorrow, or maybe even Monday, to take you to Deaton’s. Plus, I saw a batman outfit that you would look insanely adorable in.”

A low growl rumbles through the loft at that, Stiles stares quizzically down at the pup who’s currently fixated on playing with the zipper of his hoodie. “I hope that was your tummy rumbling…”

Derek walks down the spiral steps, arms crossed, eyebrow hefted in extreme levels of judgement, all the while trying to damnedest to hide his amusement.

Stiles’ eyes volley comically from the puppy to Derek. “I guess what they say is true, they do grow up so fast.”

Derek drops his arms and rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe you’d wait 3 days just to play dress up with me. No wait, actually I can.” 

Stiles gently places the pup on the ground, softly chuckling as he watches him scramble towards a pile of toys triple the size of him. Honestly, Derek must have bought the entire store out of their toy stock. 

Derek nods towards the furball, “Glad you two had the chance to bond; he’s yours.”

Stiles’ jaw drops in shock, stumbling over incoherent words. “Mine?! Derek…what? why?”

Derek stands next to Stiles, watching the pup wrestle with a sock monkey. “Because I saw the way you look at him every time we walk past the store,” Derek quietly states. “He makes you happy, and I - I like seeing you happy.” He ducks his head, trying to stop the blush creeping across his face but failing miserably. 

Stiles turns toward him, their shoulders brushing before Stiles grabs his hand, making Derek’s eyes meet his. “For all your werewolfy senses, I don’t know how you missed the way I look at you. Because Derek, you -you- make me happy.” Derek stands stock-still, rooted to the spot as the words wash over him, not allowing them to seep in for fear of them falsely fueling his hope or waking him up from this euphoric dream.

It isn’t until Stiles’ grin slowly parts as he leans in, soft warm lips pressing against his own, tentatively at first, before growing hungry. Derek takes a few seconds to snap out of his head and into reality. Hands clutch tightly to one another, anchoring themselves to each other, to reality, as lips dance to music heard only in their hearts, expressing feelings that no string of words could ever hope to fully illuminate. 

Stiles pulls away, smile growing exponentially while his eyebrows waggle obscenely. “So that batman outfit… I’m pretty sure they make them in overgrown puppy adult sizes too.”

“Not a chance, Stiles!” Derek calls over his shoulder as he goes to fill Sourpup’s food dish, feeling as though he’s walking on clouds, smirking to himself. It’s not out of the question, but Stiles doesn’t need to know that right now. He’ll save that for his birthday.

nohurrytoshout  asked:

The father scenario with Hayama, Akashi, and Kasamatsu was so cute and since you're still taking on requests, I would like to have the same theme but this time the rest of the GoM+(a character of your choice). THANK YOU

haha awe really? I’m thankful! Since you want the rest, I’ll glad do them! But I may make their scenarios short since there’ll be 6. I hope that’s okay!


Aomine: You could feel a headache coming on, though you weren’t sure who was worse. It’s expected for a two year old to be crying and upset, but to see your husband mocking him, in a way to be playful, was just ridiculous. It seems he really hasn’t grown up.

“Daiki!!”

He stopped, looking at you with navy blue eyes, “What?”

You huffed, “How old are you? Why are you mocking your son?”

He blinked, “What are you talking about? He’s enjoying it!”

You were about to yell when you noticed your son laying on the floor, a big smile on his face. You looked between the two, sending glares at Aomine and sending a frown at your son. Both of them held huge innocent grins on their faces, as though they weren’t doing anything wrong.

Shaking your head, you sighed, turning your attention back to the dinner you were making. Both of them were such a handful but you couldn’t deny how much you loved them.

Kise: “Come on buddy. You can do it! Come show mommy what you’re wearing!”

Raising an eyebrow, you turned your attention from the book you were reading to Kise, who was calling your son towards him. You noticed how he peaked his head around the corner, acting a bit shy, as though he was scared to see your reaction.

“Ryouta, are you serious? Your son is only two! He’s too young to be modelling!”

Rolling his eyes, he looked at you, “You’re never too young to start modelling, [Name]-cchi! Besides,” You watched as he slowly came from around the corner, wearing a cowboy outfit. Before you could ask, Kise picked up your son, placing him on his shoulders, “Your son wants to be a horse rider one day!”

You couldn’t stop the laugh from escaping your lips as you stood up, approaching your little cowboy and big horse. Placing a kiss on your son’s cheeks, you pinched them slightly before looking at your husband, placing a quick kiss on his cheek.

“No horse would ever be cuter than you.”

Kuroko: When you got home from a long day of teaching, you’d expected there to be a lot of noise coming from your son. But what shocked you was the silence that welcomed you home. Placing the keys on the hook, you took off your shoes, an older Nigou greeting you at the door.

Bending down to pat him, you smiled, “Hey boy! I hope you had a good day!”

He licked your face, eliciting a giggle to escape your lips. Standing up, you gave him another pat before he ran towards the living room, causing you to raise an eyebrow. When you turned the corner, you couldn’t stop the smile from forming on your lips at the sight.

There laid Kuroko, peacefully sleeping with your baby boy on top of him. His hand held him to his chest, both of them snoring peacefully as the t.v continued to play quietly in the background. You saw a picture they’d previously drawn laying beside the couch. There, in the drawing, was a big black and white dog, who you assumed to be Nigou. Then there was a small boy with light blue hair, who was holding two older people’s hands. Picking it up from the floor, you went to place it on the fridge, small tears falling from your eyes.

If you could come home to this everyday, you’d be a big blubbering mess. But you couldn’t deny the happiness swelling in your heart.

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