#occasionally they will add A Feature | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pochipop · 10 months ago

Text

＃LOVE AND DEEPSPACE !! ♡ — HOW I CRAVE YOU IN THE MORNIN' (RAFAYEL X READER).

#. synopsis! — rafayel doesn't really like mornings, but heaven knows he likes you .

#. characters! — rafayel.

#. warnings! — none .

#. word count! — 1.3k .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @hhoneypop (moodboards) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

Rafayel has never been a morning person. He likes to watch the occasional sunrise if he wakes naturally to catch it, but heaven knows he’s loath to pull himself out of bed before he feels good and ready. You, on the other hand, don’t tend to have the luxury of sleeping in until whenever you please. The life of a Deepspace Hunter often requires early starts, and now that you’ve woven your life so tightly between the threads of Rafayel’s, he’s seldom excluded from the harsh ring of your alarm coercing you out of bed, out of your dreams of sweet nothings, and into the real world (which is often much less pretty.)

You don’t even have to open your eyes to know that Rafayel is already pouting at the mere thought of your departure, and your suspicions are confirmed when he snakes his arms around your waist, groaning.

“Baby,” he mutters, “don’t go, the bed gets so cold when you leave.”

You sigh.

“Have to,” you murmur, still half asleep. “Work.”

“Call in sick.”

“I’m not sick,” you answer, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “You know my work is important for more reasons than one, Rafayel.”

“I do know,” he sighs, though it’s clear he’s less than happy about agreeing.

In fairness, you’re not particularly happy about this either. You love your job, worked hard to get it and climb the ranks within it, but man, sometimes you wish it were possible to pay the bills with currency earned cuddling in bed with the man nuzzling into your neck like a kitten.

“Then don’t ask me to call in sick,” you laugh, turning your head to press a soft kiss to his warm temple.

He groans again, though you know he appreciates the affection.

Gently and with great reluctance, you pull yourself from Rafayel’s embrace, though you can’t help but take a moment to marvel at the way early morning rays of light filter through the curtains, playing on his delicate features. His eyes like marbled sunsets lazily find their way to you, still heavy with sleep, peering up at you in a mixture of love and discontent.

“You’re a menace to my sleeping schedule,” he grumbles playfully.

“Consider it payback for all the nights you’ve kept me up too late,” you answer jokingly, shrugging your shoulders.

“I’ll have you know, keeping you up at night is a vital part of our relationship,” he pouts, but there’s an unmistakable glint of mischeviousness in his tired gaze.

You giggle, knowing he’s joking (at least in part.)

“I’ll make it up to you,” you move closer, cupping his cheeks in your hands and leaning down to peck his lips. “Promise.”

“You better,” he mutters.

“Don’t I always?” You inquire, fingers feathering through his soft hair.

“Yeah,” he acknowledges in a semi-rare moment of complete sincerity from the man who often goes through the world half-wittingly. “You do.”

You smile, soft and warm, leaning in for another lingering kiss, savoring the warmth and familiarity of Rafayel’s touch. His arms reach up, wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer, as if he’s hesitant to let go.

“Be safe, okay?” He says.

“Always,” you nod.

Before, you might have mistaken his concern for a lack of trust in your abilities, but you’re well past the point of pointless misunderstandings. Rafayel may be an artist, and he might spin his words like golden threads from time to time, making you read between the lines, but your sincerest assessment of the moment tells you he’s said exactly what he means. He wants you to be safe, wants you to come home in one piece, and you let him steal another quick kiss before standing upright.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” you add, hoping it might soften the blow of your departure.

His playful pout returns.

“You seem to doubt the depth of my ability to lament over your absence,” he states.

“I don’t doubt it at all, but I’d rather you find more enjoyable ways to spend your day,” you laugh.

He sighs dramatically.

“Bring back something interesting from your adventure,” he suggests, a teasing smile pulling at his lips. “Maybe something I can crush up, turn into paint.”

“Need I remind you what happened the last time you used an oddly sourced item for pigment?” You ask incredilously.

Rafayel rolls his eyes.

“Need I remind you that that’s precisely how we met?” He counters.

“Still,” you sigh, “I’d much prefer you not be endangered by your paint. Stick with oils and acrylics for a while. For my peace of mind.”

“Is that concern I detect from you, my little hunter?” Rafayel grins.

“Of course it is,” you reply honestly. “You might be pretentious and obnoxious, but I love you. I’d never want you in harm’s way.”

His teasing smirk softens to a genuine smile at your sincerity, and he stands, taking a moment to stretch before reaching out to caress the curve of your jaw with the top of his index finger.

“Obnoxious and pretentious, huh?” He chuckles lightly. “Thank you for the glowing evaluation of my character, darling. But, because I do happen to love you as well, I’ll let that little dig slide, —and I’ll do my very best to stick to safe and traditional mediums, at least for the time being, just for you.”

You can’t help but smile at Rafayel’s good-natured reply. His gentle touch lingers on your jaw, and you lean into it, relishing in the softness of his affection.

“Very much so appreciated,” you answer amusedly. “I’ll consider it a personal victory if we can avoid any and all paint-related Wanderer incidents for the forseeable future.”

Rafayel gives a curt nod.

“A noble goal, my dearest hunter,” he says. “Now go forth and fell any pesky Wanderers intent on disturbing the peace of our humble city of high-class electronic developments, bringing back tales of wonder and triumph.”

Heaven knows he has to be the most dramatic man you’ve ever met, but you couldn’t imagine him being any other way.

You play along and give him a mock salute.

“Yes sir, at once.”

Rafayel stifles a laugh, clearly pleased by your participation in his theatrics. He thinks for a moment that this life he lives with you is nothing short of fantastical, —the kind of comfort he only dreamed of just years ago, and now here you are before him, like some kind of angel he’s terrified he might wake up to find was a figment of his deepest desires all along. But his worries are quenched by the way your lips slot so perfectly against his own as he leans in, kissing you sweetly.

“May the cosmic forces be ever in your favor, my love. Return not only with tales of triumph, but also interstellar souvenirs for my viewing pleasure and artistic inspirations if you happen to stumble across any. Preferably ones that will not curse our modest seaside home.”

You laugh, and it makes his heart stutter.

“I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for cosmic trinkets,” you assure.

You’re thrumming by the time Rafayel pulls you in again, pressing you closer to his chest. There’s nothing he has to say to fill the silence, and you let your eyes close for a moment, awash in the silent exchange of understanding so deep it could rival the cosmos. Beyond all the playful banter and the theatrical mannerisms, there’s love here, and that’s really all you could ask for. Worries about your safety, concern over Rafayel’s tendency to attract bad omens, —they dissipate in the face of this connection that buzzes like a live wire.

As you finally pull away, you meet his gaze and find nothing but softness there, replacing all the prior amusement and tiredness from before.

“Return safely, my angel. Our oceanside abode awaits your triumphant arrival,” he takes your hand, brushing his lips over your knuckles. “And so do I.”

#love and deepspace #love and deep space #love and deepspace x reader #love and deep space x reader #rafayel x reader #rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace x reader #rafayel love and deep space x reader #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deep space rafayel #love and deep space rafayel x reader #love and deepspace rafayel x reader

3K notes · View notes

leclerc-hs · 11 months ago

Text

don't wake the kids - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x nanny!reader (fem) summary: in which you got his daughter to finally fall asleep but risk waking her up not too long later warnings: 18+, slight smut, oral (f-receiving), bad french (please correct me i was tired while writing this lmao), not proofread!!!! word count: 1608 author’s note: i think i’ll write more for them bc i like the idea of single dad charles LMAO. this was fun xoxoxo

PART 2

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THERE WAS SOMETHING about Mr. Leclerc that always made you stare at him in admiration. Maybe it was the fact that he always excelled at everything he did. For instance, raising a daughter on his own couldn’t have been easy. Hell, merely spending a single night watching over his kid has you feeling thoroughly drained. So, when Charles came home to you sprawled along his couch with the TV on a low volume, he wasn’t surprised. In fact, the sight brought a grin to his lips. You were the absolute cutest thing he had ever seen. Aside from his own daughter of course.

You weren’t even aware of the impact you left on him and his daughter. There wasn’t a day where you weren’t mentioned by his daughter. She adored you, and he did too.

“Comment était-elle?” How was she? His voice was deep as he dropped his keys on the table of the entry way table. “Fatiguée?” Tired?

You barely moved as he approached the room, too comfortable to even sit all the way up for him. His hands rest in the pockets of his dress pants as he leaned up against the arch of the living room, suit jacket slung over his shoulder, eyes never straying from yours.

You felt yourself swallowing harshly at the sight of him. He’s so fucking hot. “Elle était un ange!” She was an angel! There was a soft glow of moonlight that seeped through the curtains, casting a gentle radiance on the room as you whispered those words. You were whispering, careful to not wake her in the next room over. But also, in attempt to hide the desire in your voice. It would be a complete lie if you said you didn’t find him attractive. If you didn’t think about him that way.

With a subtle exhalation, Charles gracefully moved away from the archway, making his way towards the couch. He lowered himself onto the couch beside you, his head finding a comfortable perch on the back cushions, a gentle smile gracing his features. His legs extended languidly, and the contours of his thigh muscles subtly asserted themselves through the delicate fabric of his dress pants.

Turning his head to look at you, “Would you mind staying in the spare room tonight?”

His eyes, an enchanting shade of green, held you captive in a mesmerizing trance. Lost in their depths, his question became a distant echo, momentarily forgotten in the captivating allure of those verdant depths.

It wasn’t an abnormal question. At least, not anymore it wasn’t. You’ve been watching his daughter for months now and have occasionally crashed at his when it was too late at night. When you didn’t answer right away, lost in thought, Charles felt the need to wearily add an “I’m too tired to take you home.”

It’s not that you didn’t have your license, but you didn’t have a car. And because it meant more money, you always said yes. At least you always told yourself it was for the money. But it really was for all the times you got to see a shirtless Charles in the morning. His hair all disheveled, eyes full of sleep. The rasp in his voice. And also, the breakfast.

His hand swiftly dropped to your exposed thigh, the tennis skirt adorning your body doing little to cover you. He patted the area right above your knee softly for your attention, “Je suppose que tu n’as pas de vêtements; je vais te trouver quelque chose.” I assume you don’t have clothes; I’ll grab you something. The touch was so miniscule, so quick, that you could barely grasp the concept that it happened before he was already standing.

Although staying over wasn’t new, borrowing his clothes was.

You found yourself unable to speak as he stood from the couch and made his way to his room. The air was charged with a delicate tension. You were convinced it was the suit that had you stumbling for words, or maybe the fact you haven’t had sex in months and Charles is just that fucking hot, and in front of you, looking at you, touching you.

“J’espère que cela est assez bon.” I hope these are good enough. Bathed in the gentle luminescence of the room, Charles gazes down at you with an intensity the captures the essence of the moment. In his hands, he holds a neatly folded pile of clothes, extending them toward you with a certain grace. A faint, sleepy smile graces your lips as you accept them.

With a languid elegance, you begin to rise from the comfort of the couch, only to find Charles extending his hand toward you. His fingers confidently entwine with yours, pulling you up. Although, it seems Charles underestimated his strength because you are sent flying to your feet, awkwardly tripping in the process. But before you can make a total fool of yourself, Charles is slipping an arm around your waist, holding you to his chest.

You can feel your cheeks redden in embarrassment, “Je suis tellement désole.” I’m so sorry.

You feel Charles laugh reverberate in his chest, making you more alert of just how close you two were. “Ne sois pas désolée.” Don’t be sorry.

In that suspended moment, time seemed to stretch, creating a timeless place where you and Charles were encapsulated. Locked in a shared gaze, the world outside this intimate bubble ceased to exist. Uncertainty lingered in the air, an unspoken question hovering between you two. Charles’ firm hold persisted, grounding the moment in the tangible warmth of his touch.

As the stillness enveloped you, his eyes were fixated on your flushed cheeks, a canvas painted in hues of warmth. The intensity of his gaze conveyed an admiration that transcended words. To Charles, the sight of your blushing complexion was nothing short of captivating – an endearing revelation of vulnerability that only heightened your allure.

“Tellement jolie,” So pretty. The words were so soft. Barely audible if it wasn’t for your proximity. It was as if he didn’t even know he said them out loud.

You felt frozen while trying to decide if this was a dream or not. But when the pads of Charles thumbs made way to your face, tracing your bottom lip slowly, you knew you were fucked.

“Est-ce que je peux?” Can I?

You wanted to scream. Yes! You felt your stomach churning with need. But externally, you were calm. You needed to be quiet.

You made the move to nod your head when his lips collided with yours. It was slow and tentative at first. Like he was trying to test the waters. He pulled away for a moment, eyes staring into yours once again, as if he needed to make sure you were okay with this.

But as soon as he saw your lips draw into a smile, he knew he was fucked.

The second time your lips met it was feverish and messy. All tongue and no air. The clothes that he handed you previously, now lay on the floor in a messy pile, your hands sliding around his neck. You both go tumbling down onto the couch.

He groaned quietly into your mouth – a sound as if the taste of you was something he craved his whole life. His hands dropped from your jaw, closing around your neck, as you felt him push your further into the couch cushion with the weight of his body.

“J’ai besoin de toi,” I need you. You managed to slip the words out, your fingers trailing through his hair on the back of his head.

Before you had the chance to press your lips back together, he was pulling away, leaving you breathless and a little confused until his hands dropped to the waistband of your skirt. His fingers shoving their way in and pulling them down, your underwear being yanked off in the process. His gaze met yours once more, filled with anticipation and eagerness.

“Tu as l’air tellement putain de bien comme ça.” You look so fucking good like this.

Like this. Spread out and beneath him. Completely bare and whimpering for him.

You could hear him curse to himself as he draped your leg over his shoulder, seeing how wet you already were.

The first drag of his tongue on you was enough to make your back arch instantly. He groaned, his nose brushing against your clit as he dipped his tongue inside of you. Every dip of his tongue sent you bucking your hips harder against him. And he loved it.

With every stoke of his tongue, your fingers fisted his hair tighter. You began to buck your hips, so close to reaching your orgasm, but he denied. His hands were quick to push your hips down onto the couch. He wanted to hear you beg.

“Charles,” you sighed softly.

“Hm?” You didn’t even have to look at him to know he was smirking. His tongue was placing slow licks to your clit, light enough to keep you right on the edge.

“S’il te plaît.” Please.

Charles was back sucking on your clit in less than a second, his hands sliding up to your covered breasts, squeezing them. He moaned into your pussy, the sound enough to send you spiraling over the edge. You gripped onto anything that was near and placed it over your face, trying to cover the moans that were escaping your lips.

Your body shook as you pressed the pillow into your face. He licked you as you came down and didn’t stop until you were practically shoving him off.

His lips were glossy and puffy, coated with you. A smirk on his face as he stood up and looked down at you completely flushed on his couch, half bare. You looked at the bulge of his cock, pressing against the seams of his dress pants, and then back up at his eyes.

“Bedroom?”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #f1 imagine #don’t wake the kids cl16

2K notes · View notes

admirxation · 1 month ago

Text

彡 𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝐬𝐭 - 𝐝𝐮𝐛 𝐜𝐨𝐧

♡ 𝐬𝐮𝐦. reader needs to get out of a speeding ticket. (wc: 3.3k)

𝐜𝐰 — afab!reader x corrupt cop!Leon S. Kennedy, modern/no outbreak au, 18+ smut mdni, dark content, dub-con (power imbalance), ooc, flirting, dirty talk, degrading (slut and whore are used against the reader), unprotected sex, p in v, outdoor sex, bending over, and cum. -> you have been warned; continue at your own discretion.

You had been in your own little world, lost in thought, with the monotony of the highway lulling you into a kind of reverie, unaware of the exact numbers that were ticking up on your speedometer. You were driving back from work—another gruelling day—and were exhausted, unable to think with enough clarity as you watched the ribbon of an empty road stretching out before you. The muted hum of your car engine blended into the sounds of the night with the occasional car driving past and overtaking you, your atmosphere filled with dotted streetlamps and headlights being the only light source to illuminate the motorway.

Your mind was blank, going into autopilot as you continued to push down on the pedal and go toward home, as you always did. That pathway was the quickest; very little went on through here besides the occasional animal that darted across the street or a street being closed off during long reconstruction processes. However, those were the only problems until you saw the red and blue lights flashing behind you in the rearview mirror.

At first, you didn’t think those lights and sirens were for you, thinking it was just for the person ahead—until you were flashed with the cruiser signalling you to pull over. Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach as you noticed the signal, thinking it was a mistake until your gaze lowered to the speedometer.

“Fuck,” you whispered through your teeth as you noticed how above the speed limit you were.

A slight tremor passed through your fingers as you slowed down, indicating before pulling up to a complete stop until you noticed in the side-view mirror and saw it was a male office—easy. You saw him step out of the car, striding over and managing to get a view of his frame as his dusted blonde hair fell on the framing of his face; when he was walking further up, you noticed that face—this guy had to be a rookie. You could make that assumption with his soft features, and he seemed near enough your age; to your naivety, you thought this would just be a simple unbuttoning of the blouse and squishing your arms together to show a subtle amount of cleavage and drop your voice into a silky octave to convince him to let you off with a warning.

The officer was approaching—taking his time—with his gait deliberate and slow enough to add anticipation and a tremor within your beating heart; you took the opportunity to unbutton the top two buttons on your silky blouse, puffing up your hair for some volume and getting ready to plead your innocence to the rookie. When he reached your window, he bent down just slightly, his presence a bit too close for comfort when you noticed his blue gaze staring into you, his badge now gleaming in the dim light, the sound of his fingers tapping against the window of your car. You quickly pressed the hard button and lowered your window, quickly giving him an innocent and sweet look.

“Do you know how fast you were going, Miss? " His voice was almost fatigued. He was clearly exhausted like you were from having to be at work at night.

You blinked, remembering to keep up that innocent but seductive look as you pushed your arms together a bit more—but his gaze didn’t lower; he looked unimpressed more than anything.

“No officer… I’m sorry, was I speeding?” you had a soft tone in the traces of your syllables, hoping to god that he would take it in as your fingertips drummed on your skirt-covered thighs.

He chuckled, but not one of humour, one that was devoid of humour and more condescending than anything. His eyes were sharp and calculating as he watched your face, then starting to lower with the flicker of his blue gaze trailing from your strawberry hue lips to your exposed collarbones and soft, subtle cleavage—he had seen this trick one too many times by now, but it was always fun to watch people try. Especially when the person trying was as pretty as you were, maybe he could have a bit of fun with this.

“You were over the limit. " His voice was smooth, with a layer of something that made you uneasy, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on the feeling—at least, not just yet.

You could only continue to plead your innocence with a small and apologetic smile, trying your best to defuse the situation.

“I must have lost track, officer. I am so sorry. I guess I wasn’t thinking… a stressful day at work, you see.”

His smirk widened a little too much: “Hm, well, you need to handle your “stressful days” at work better than speeding, Miss. " He talked down to you, making your heart quicken, and the hot liquid pulsate through your veins as you felt your body start to go cold at his piercing stare.

You brushed your fingers through your hair, flashing another sweet smile; this was too amusing to him, but all he could think about was how he was glad an attractive girl like you was pulling the trick, giving him a chance to let off some steam with someone he could actually find easy on the eyes.

“Look, officer, I am extremely sorry I just—”

“Trying to flirt your way out of a ticket.”

Shit.

“No, no, I—”

“I haven’t been in the job long, Miss, but it’s the oldest trick in the book; you think because you’re young, you can flash a pretty smile and think I’m going to blush and warn you.”

Busted. This would not be good; it was another payment on a whole load of debt you had accumulated since you tried to be an independent adult after college.

You gave a defeated sigh, your head kicking back on the headrest.

“License and registration, please miss.”

You opened up the cabinet of the car and gave your documents to him, your stomach lurching as he snatched them away from you in a quick motion, turning his blinding white flashlight onto the information and a quick look at you.

To his delight at the confirmation, when the flashlight was pulled to your squinting eyes, you weren’t too bad to look at, not like the other girls who desperately flirted to get out of a ticket and had nothing to show; you were quite attractive, just his type—attractive and desperate. He handed them back to you and leaned in closer, his arm resting on the edge of your window as his face was inches away from you, making a lump form in your throat as your lip quivered momentarily, terrified of the ticket that was going to be written and cause more impending debt on your government name. The air between you two felt suddenly thick enough to slide through, and your chest steadily fell and rose as your breathing quickened. That anxiety was charged with something unspoken.

“Hm,” he breathed out, his gaze lingering on your lips. “Actually, I’m kind of glad I stopped you now,” a smirk forming a curved and sinister shape on his lips. You grossly misjudged this guy for a normal rookie.

“Oh, um, why’s that? " you said with an awkward smile, your tone of voice now slightly heightened in pitch.

“It gives me something nice to look at on my work shift,” he squinted his eyes at you with his smile, taking your form in further; his tone had a suggestive but sharp edge, and it was far from playful, innocent flirting.

You just expected to do some innocent flirting, wanting to get away with a warning by flashing a sweet smile and putting a fake number in his notebook with the last two digits being swapped so you wouldn’t have to see him again. But you felt your stomach twist, feeling a cold chill run through your spine and making goosebumps along your soft skin in trepidation’s wake.

He didn’t move for a bit, his body looming over yours as his eyes roamed around your face, looking at the shade and shape of your eyes, the way your eyelashes were formerly batting when trying to act all guilt-free, looking at the bridge of your nose, and the red tip from the cold night, then slowly going to the blouse that had been unbuttoned by two small buttons, so subtle, but enough to get him excited about you. You wanted to flirt, and you would get the consequences of that now.

“I can… I can take that ticket, officer. I understand. I should have been paying attention,” you stuttered in a shaking tone as he continued to look at you from head to toe in the car, not minding the debt when seeing how that stare was drilling and piercing through you.

“A ticket? No, I don’t think we need to go through that route.” he tilted his head, his smirk deepening in its curve as it made a dimple in his cheeks that sinisterly creased.

“But, as you said, officer, the flirting trick wasn’t going to work, and I need the consequence, with a ticket,” you couldn’t help but let out a short and breathy, awkward laugh as you tried to defuse the anxiety that was pooling in the pit of your stomach, your heart pounding against its chamber like it was starting to come alive and run away from its designated place.

“True but… I don’t mind if you flirt.”

“What’s with the change of heart... Honestly, officer, I’m really sorry and—”

“Aw, are you scared now… Don’t like it when the game goes against you, do you?” he whispered, coming too close for comfort as your heart continued to thump against your ribcage, that pounding drilling into your eardrums and begging that someone drives past, or that he just gives up, you didn’t want a ticket but that smirk was making you feel uneasy, why couldn’t you just flash a pretty smile and get this over and done with. “I’ll give you a choice... To make it fair on you I suppose, you can either be given a ticket… which will cost a pretty penny… and judging by the material of that blouse and the type of car you’re driving, I’m sure you don’t have the money... Or you could get out of the car and… Let’s see how well your flirting can get you out of trouble, yeah?”

His smile made your skin crawl, with his hand resting on the roof of your car and his strong gaze trying to coax you out of the safe refuge of your car walls; his other hand had drumming fingers against the window frame in a lazy rhythm, similar to that of a ticking clock, to show your time was wasting and needed to make a decision—now.

He wasn’t wrong about not having the money; it’s the way you endured your boring and unfilling job just barely to afford the bare minimum with a lack of support; you looked at his face, and despite the skin-crawling effect, his smile was starting to have, he wasn’t unattractive, he was quite hot if he didn't have that creepy tinge to all his words, it wouldn’t be too bad to play his game? You could get out of some money, but at the very most, you might need to kiss him. Right?

You cleared your throat, fighting with yourself to keep your voice nice and steady: “I… I guess I could come out.”

“Great choice.”

You unbuckled your seatbelt, hearing the metallic click outside, and felt his stare pierce right through you as he watched you stop outside, watching you shudder as you felt the winter air across your skin and cause your goosebumps to harden on your skin. He watched your standing figure, taking in how your cheap clothes hugged onto your curves and looking at every slope of your feminine shape; his eyes certainly gleamed with approval and a hint of glistening arousal that shined in the blue of his eyes as he looked upon you.

“Hm, not bad,” he muttered to himself with his fingers on his chin, that smirk on his face like a cat looking at a mouse to play with, measuring and sizing you up as you stood there, suffocating on the tension between you two in the cold winter air.

His suggestive stance hung in the air like smoke, clinging to your lungs. The road was empty, and only the sound of the swishing wind and rolling tyres was miles away from your location. To your disappointment, this pathway didn’t have many people pass it, which was good for avoiding traffic but awful when you were stuck in a situation like this.

You forced a tight smile as a wrinkle formed on your smile lines, your mind racing but that part of your brain trying to keep calm, focusing on your drumming heartbeat. But his smirk was still frozen in place, his eyes locking up as he weighed out his options. He slowly straightened up and moved closer to you, removing any distance that was between you—his fingers now trailing on your jawline.

“Keep your eye contact; it’s rude not to pay attention,” he said nonchalantly, his freezing fingertips tracing the line of your soft skin, looking at your features up close. “Be a good girl and bend over the car for me.”

“What? Am I being arrested?” you quickly blurted out of panic, your blood running hot through your veins.

“No, no, relax… Just follow instructions, and you’ll be on your way home in no time.”

As you hesitantly put your hands on the cold hood of your car, you deeply swallowed that lump that was forming in your throat, connecting your thudding heart in your chest to the freezing metallic of your car hood as you were left vulnerable with your ass pushed out—it felt so demeaning. However, while your mind was running on overdrive, Leon was measuring you up like a snake ready to devour, no longer stifling over the anxiety of what his thoughts and impulses were going to lead up to; if anyone knew what he was doing, he would soon lose his badge and his reputation… but who was here to stop him? Certainly not you; you weren’t going to be stupid enough to put yourself into more debt than you needed, and who would believe that innocent rookie cop Leon would ever do such a thing—the perks of having a sweet face, you could get away with anything.

He continued to watch you surreptitiously, taking in how your thighs were shaking; he soon coaxed a sharp gasp as he pressed his crotch against the fat of your ass, rubbing his trousered cock on your skirt and watching you shake, practically squirming against him as you whined pitifully.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do this. You can just accept the ticket, and I’ll leave you alone,” he teased in that tantalising and condescending tone. He knew you didn’t have a real choice, but it was fun to plead the case of ‘but you could have left’.

While you were settled down, you felt his hands smooth over your ass, biting your bottom lip as you looked behind you.

“Oh, what’s this? No,” he continued with that tone that made you feel like a pathetic puddle underneath him, “I think you like this, don’t you?” he brought his vision to your bitten lip and the way you looked at him through half-lidded eyes, clouded by desire, and shame.

He wasn’t exactly wrong, and you hated to admit that to yourself or him, but you couldn’t deny that you felt your nipples hardening against the hood of the car and felt your cunt start to tighten whenever his tented pants were rutting against your ass; you were ashamed of yourself, but… you wanted him.

“Didn’t think I would be stopping a complete slut,” he muttered under his breath, but enough for you to hear as his hands were hiking up your skirt, and seeing the soaked patch on your panties from behind, making him scoff out a condescending laugh. “My, you are pathetic, aren’t you, getting wet for a guy who wants to use you… How endearing,” he practically purred as he bent down and whispered the end part in your ear, leaving a teasing bite on your earlobe and making you suck in a short and cold breath, your pants showing up in fogged-up clouds in the winter night.

“Hm, I like you,” he continued to whisper as he jerked down your panties, the rough and thick lace fabric pulling down your skin and causing you to wince, “don’t worry, you’re in very, very good hands,” he cooed as he watched your glistening cunt tighten in the cold, slowly unzipping his pants and letting his throbbing erection spring out, before slowly rubbing it against your soaking slit.

“Oh my god~” you moaned out.

“How much do you wanna avoid that ticket, huh?” he teased as he pushed the fat head of his cock in and out of your needy hole, making you anticipate when he was going to fully push his whole length in and make you his needy little whore.

“Mm, so much, officer,” you whimpered out through your quivering speech.

He absorbed every word and whimper as he kept making you plead continuously, “I couldn’t hear you…Speak up; do sluts not know how to use their words now?” god, he was such a jerk, but this jerk was making you soaking wet and begging for a sweet release; you didn’t even care that you were avoiding a ticket, all you cared about was the fact you wanted to cum all over that cock.

“Please,” you finally hissed out.

“Good job looks like you can use your words,” before you could interject or plead anymore, he finally rammed his whole length inside of you, forcing a loud and pornographic groan to protrude out of your glossy lips, your eyes rolling up and up until he was making you see blurred stars as you felt his bare cock rut against your spasming and tight walls, feeling dumb as he continued to make you his slut.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he moaned out with his fingers deepening onto the fat of your hips, “oh such a needy little slut, all to get out of a ticket,” his breath hitched as he felt your walls tighten and clasp around his length tighter the more he spoke to you.

“Ah~ ah~ ah~,” your eyes were so far up that anyone would just see the whites of your eyes, with that stupid and dazed smile as your lips were parted in your moans, taking it, and shamefully… loving every bit. “More, more, more,” you groaned out through your chewed lip, knowing this was so wrong, but hey, at least you were getting out of a ticket and was getting the best fuck you had gotten in a while as well.

“Oh, your cunt is perfect, such a pretty pussy. I love ruining it.” He kept missing out his condescending and vile words down at you, practically gasping when he felt your pouty lips dribble down your juices over his shaft. “Oh, you fucking whore,” he moaned out as he kicked his head back, loving how you were just wrapped out his little finger, feeling his climax soon to come with his eyelids fluttering and his nails digging into your skin, enough to leave crescent moon shape indents on your hips, his balls slapping against your skin and tightening with every second he was getting closer to grasping at his high.

He groaned when he finally met it, pulling out and shooting his thick load onto your skirt; your favourite skirt was going to have to go to the washing machine after this, but you didn’t care about that with how good you felt.

As you were pulling up your panties and pulling your skirt back down, standing up in your breathless and panting state, you were left with confusion when he pulled his notebook out.

“Number now, and while you are at it, put your name there as well; I’d like to whisper it in your ear the next time you beg for me.

taglist: @elfven-blog @porcelainseashore -> if you want to be tagged in my works here is my taglist [x], and if you want to be deleted from it just message me privately.

a/n: woop woop the first post of kinktober! I hope you enjoyed this and stick around for what I have planned, if you're interested I do have a 'kinktober 2024' in my pinned post so you can see what is coming up, and my taglist is open for people you want to be tagged in my works from everything to something very specific they're looking for. Happy kinktober, and I hope you have fun here *mwah mwah*

434 notes · View notes

winterdeepelegy · 29 days ago

Text

Vanilla Gpose Tips

I get asked occasionally how I make my screenshots if I'm not using shaders or mods. The short answer: Patience. Gpose's suite of tools is a lot more robust than it used to be when it was first released. But if you want a screenshot to really shine without using third party add-ons, it's not something you can just go into gpose, take a printscreen and get back out. You might capture a moment with nice lighting that way, but it takes more than that. 1. Choosing a location and time of day is job one. What kind of mood are you trying to convey? Does your intended screenshot have a theme (or a prompt?) or are you just looking at your new glam and marveling at how fine your character looks in it? Does a lighter or darker setting suit the character better? Setting, time of day, and weather can affect this. 2. You can stop time and weather from changing. I keep this on by default because it can take upwards of 30 minutes IRL to fine tune a screenshot. The middle button below. Make sure it's highlighted.

3. Toggle battle effects on/off. It's the button right next to the time/weather stop, the icon of the guy holding the sword. If the icon is highlighted as it is in the screenshot, your battle effects are on. If you want to capture pure motion and not worry about battle effects, turn this off. 4. Wet effect. Use it, use it, use it. It doesn't just make clothes look wet and make skin glossy, it actually helps to bring out texture and detail on the character's outfit. Especially since the graphics updates in 7.1. I've found it also adds shine to hair and can help the eyes stand out more.

5. Sticker Mode. Yes, there are oodles of cute minion stickers, flags, and numbers, but there are also some great effects to be found in the Decorations category! Sparkles and twinkles, lens flare, among other things can help enhance metallic points on a glamour, AND they can be resized! So if you want a more subtle twinkle on the edge of your spectacles or earrings, you can tilt and downsize your desired sparkle. There are also cute flowers and hearts. 6. Quick Keys. If you're playing on a keyboard, the 1 on your top number row freezes the screenshot. This is extremely helpful if you're trying to catch a battle emote right at a specific moment. If you miss it, keep trying because emotes will continue to cycle until you change them. R and Scroll Lock will both hide/unhide the gpose controls. X will turn on lighting. Space Bar will toggle your character to stop them from facing the camera and vice versa. 7. Lighting Intensity is Dependent on Distance. The closer you're zoomed in on your character, the brighter the light is going to be when you turn it on. Try adjusting your zoom in or out and toggling the light to see if the illumination is to your liking. You can also adjust the RGB on the lights to fit the mood/environment. I also recommend turning on Manual Brightness. 8. Color Filter and Screen Effect. These two features, in my opinion, require the most patience. Not every color filter and screen effect will work well together in every scenario. Click through and preview all of them in your screenshots and see if some SE's work better with your preferred CF. You might find an unexpected combination that you love. Trailer and Echo color filters are great for flashbacks (no one uses Aetherometer, it's an eye bleeder). Use the Pencil or one of the monochrome CFs and Noise 2 SE to create a nice black and white film or photo effect. 9. Frames. Frames are one of the more limited features and not always needed in order to capture a great screenshot. Action poses benefit from the Cinema frames, however, while more lighthearted moments play well with the photo options.

10. Emotes. Before you enter Gpose, be sure to /groundsit to clear your most recent emotes. Summoning mounts and minions also count as emotes for the sake of Gpose. By the same token, you can use battle abilities before entering Gpose, and this is what it will cycle through. You can't activate a battle ability while IN Gpose. You will have access to all of your non-battle emotes and facial expressions, though. You can combine any emote with any facial expression by choosing the action first, and expression second, so you can /prettyplease and /awe at the same time to make your character look hilariously horrified. If you enter Gpose with an active battle ability, you can still apply a facial expression to it from within the tool. 11. Bits and Bobs. Enable Manual Focus and Depth of Field will help bring out the details of the background more, and will help to make a more cohesive screenshot. Manual Focus is great if you want your character in the frame, but you want to shift the focus elsewhere, to an object or another person in the background for example. In the same menu where you'll find emotes, click the second eye button to "Track Camera". Your character's eyes will follow the position of the camera. Lastly, again, have patience. Allow yourself time to play with all the tools Gpose has to offer. You're probably not going to get the winning screenshot after clicking Printscreen just one time, you should take multiple shots from different angles with different lighting and effects, then compare them all and pick the ones you like best. And remember, even if it's the true endgame, it's not a competition. Your screenshots are not "worse" or "boring" just because you're not using third party tools. I look forward to seeing what you create, and you should too.

#ffxiv #ff14 #ooc #out of ice

404 notes · View notes

chosok-amo · 2 months ago

Text

NOT FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES: GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

do you know what tea could affect your relationship? making you have an argument with your boyfriends because you thought they were overprotective and overbearing.

wc. | masterlist ( art © artist )

the sun hangs high in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over your backyard. the clear blue sky stretches endlessly above, dotted occasionally with fluffy white clouds that drift lazily by. the gentle breeze rustles the leaves of the big trees surrounding your yard, creating a soft symphony of nature that sets the perfect backdrop for a relaxing day.

you’re inside the house, standing in the kitchen with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed tea wafting through the air. the kettle hums softly as it heats the water, and you take a moment to gather your thoughts. the tranquility of the day is a stark contrast to the chaos of your usual life, filled with sorcery and battles against curses. here, in this peaceful moment, everything feels right.

you glance out the window to see gojo and geto sitting together under the shade of the trees. gojo leans back against the trunk, his signature playful grin lighting up his face as he talks animatedly about something that seems to amuse geto. his carefree energy is infectious, and you can’t help but smile as you watch the two of them. geto, with his arms crossed and a relaxed demeanor, listens intently, his lips curling into a soft smile as he occasionally chimes in.

after a few more moments, the kettle clicks off, bringing you back to your task. you pour the hot water into a teapot filled with your favorite blend of loose leaf tea, the leaves swirling gracefully as they steep. You take a moment to appreciate the simple act of making tea, finding comfort in the rhythm of your movements.

while the tea brews, you take a peek outside again. the sunlight dances on their skin, highlighting their features in a warm glow. gojo's hair seems to shimmer under the sunlight, and you can see the way he gestures animatedly, the light catching the mischief in his eyes. geto, on the other hand, appears more grounded, with a calm expression as he occasionally shoots gojo an exasperated look, as if to say, “what are you going on about now?”

after a few minutes, you pour the tea into three cups, adding a touch of honey to each one, knowing how much they both love the sweetness. you also grab a small plate of freshly baked cookies you made the day before, their warm, buttery scent still lingering in the air. with everything prepared, you step outside, the warmth of the sun enveloping you. the moment you appear, both of them turn their attention toward you, their faces lighting up with smiles.

as you carefully made your way to the backyard with the tray in hand, the warm evening breeze brushed against your skin. but just as you took another step, you felt your foot catch on something, and before you could react, you were falling forward. the tray slipped from your grasp, and everything seemed to slow down as the hot teas spilled, burning your arms. ‘tud! you hit the ground hard, the impact rattling through your body and your head smacking against the unforgiving earth.

a sharp pain shot through your skull, and you felt a warm, sticky sensation as a wound opened up on your forehead. your vision blurred for a moment, and a pained groan escaped your lips.

at the sound of the tray crashing and your body hitting the ground, gojo and geto's eyes widen as they witness the fall unfolding in front of them. they jump to their feet, moving towards you with a mix of concern and surprise on their faces.

“shit, baby!” the raven-haired sorcerer exclaims, worry etched across his features.

“are you okay?” gojo adds, his voice laced with concern. he kneels down beside you, quickly assessing your injuries.

you get up from the ground sit there, dazed and try to process what just happened. the world around you spins slightly, and you blink rapidly, trying to steady yourself. despite the stinging in your arms and the throbbing in your head, you forced a smile, hoping to ease their concern. “i’m okay,” you mumbled, though your voice was a bit shaky so your eyes, you look confused.

gojo and geto exchanged a concerned glance before their eyes returned to you. they could tell you were putting on a brave face, but they could also tell your fall had left you confused.

“bullshit,” geto mutters under his breath, not buying your attempt to downplay your pain. gojo gently reaches out, his fingers lightly brushing against the cut on your forehead. “you're bleeding. and your arms look like they were burned.”

the concern in gojo's voice is clear, and his eyes meet yours, searching for any sign of more serious injury.

“can you stand? we should get you inside and clean those burns.” he says, gently helping you to your feet.

meanwhile, geto gazes at you with a mixture of worry and irritation. “you shouldn't have tried to carry all that on your own like that. it's too much for one person,” he mutters, his tone slightly accusatory.

you blink up at them, feeling the warmth of their concern, but also a little embarrassed by the fuss. with a small, sheepish smile, you shrug slightly and say, “it’s just tea, baby. i’m fine, really.” you let out a soft laugh, trying to lighten the mood as you brush off the dirt from your clothes.

“no need to freak out, i’m tougher than i look.”

despite the sting from the burns and the throbbing in your head, you keep your tone light, hoping to ease their worries a bit.

gojo narrows his eyes at you and crosses his arms, clearly not convinced by your downplay of the situation. “tougher than you look or not, you still fell pretty hard. let's get you inside so we can check you for any other injuries.”

meanwhile, geto rolls his eyes at your stubbornness, a mix of concern and irritation on his face. “you're so damn stubborn. just accept our help for once.” gojo gently places a hand on your back, leading you inside the house. geto follows close behind, his arms crossed over his chest as he shoots you a disapproving look.

“you really should be more careful. what if you hit your head harder or break a bone?” he says, his voice stern but clearly laced with concern.

gojo shoots geto a look, silently signaling him to ease up a bit. he turns to you with a reassuring smile, his touch on your back gentle and comforting. “come on. let's clean you up and see how bad the damage is.”

gojo wraps one arm around your waist, supporting you as he gently guides you indoors. geto follows closely behind, his gaze trained on you like a hawk, his annoyance with your stubbornness clear in his eyes.

once they get you inside, they lead you to the living room, sitting you down on the couch. “stay here,” gojo instructs, a hint of command in his voice as he moves towards the first aid kit. after some moment, he quickly returns with the first aid kit, taking a seat next to you on the couch. he carefully opens it, pulling out some antiseptic and gauze.

“alright, let me take a look at those burns,” he says, his voice gentle and soothing. meanwhile, geto hovers nearby, his arms still crossed over his chest. his eyes are fixed on you, watching the scene unfold with a mixture of concern and irritation.

you bite your lip, glancing down at your hands resting in your lap, feeling a sting not just from the burns but from the way geto’s words hit you. you mumble softly, “i can carry a tray by myself... it’s just a tray with teas and snacks.“ your voice wavers slightly, the guilt creeping in as you pick at the fabric of your clothes. “i didn’t think it was a big deal… i just wanted to bring you guys something nice.”

you look up at geto, his expression a mix of worry and frustration, and then over at gojo, who’s focused on the first aid kit, his movements a little more tense than usual. the weight of their concern settles on your shoulders, making you feel even worse. “i’m sorry,” you add quietly, eyes flickering down again, feeling like you messed up more than you intended.

geto's expression softens a bit at your apology, his annoyance replaced with a hint of guilt.

“it's not that we don't appreciate the gesture,” gojo chimes in, his voice gentle as he continues to tend to your wounds. “but we don't need material things to feel loved. we just want you to be careful.” he looks up at you with a reassuring smile, his eyes holding a mixture of compassion and understanding.

“we care about you, that's all. we just don't want you getting hurt because you're trying to do too much.”

you shift uncomfortably under their gazes, feeling their words sink in, but you can't help but cling to your stubbornness. “it's really not too much,” you insist quietly, your voice still a little shaky but firm. “i just wanted to do something nice for you both. i can handle a tray—”

but before you can finish, you hear them both tsk in unison, their irritation flaring up again. gojo gives you a stern look, his brows furrowing as he presses a bit harder than necessary with the bandage. “you say that, but look where it got you,” he mutters in annoyance, clearly frustrated by your insistence on downplaying what happened.

geto watches the scene unfold, his irritation mounting again. he pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“why do you insist on being so damn stubborn?” he grumbles, his patience wearing thin. “we don't care about the goddamn snack tray, we care about you. you could've gotten seriously hurt.”

he crosses his arms once more, his eyes fixed on you with a mix of concern and anger. “how many times do we have to tell you that the only thing we want is for you to be safe and healthy?” gojo finishes wrapping your wounds in silence, his touch still gentle even though his irritation is evident.

once he's done, he sits back and looks at you, his eyes a mixture of concern and annoyance. “we know you want to do nice things for us, but you don't have to push yourself.”

geto lets out another sigh, his arms still crossed. “he's right. we don't need you to go out of your way like this. we just want you to be careful and take care of yourself first and foremost.”

you look up at them, confusion flickering in your eyes. you’re a sorcerer, just like them—used to fighting curses and enduring much worse than a slight burn or a bump on the head. to you, this was nothing more than a small accident, not something that should have them this upset. “it’s just a tea,” you murmur, your voice low and sincere. “i’m not pushing myself. i just wanted to do something nice for you guys. it’s really not a big deal.”

you can see their concern, but you don’t quite understand why something as simple as bringing them a snack is being seen as you overextending yourself. you’ve handled way worse. “i mean, come on, it’s a burn and a scratch. i’m not exactly falling apart over here,” you add, glancing between them with a frown.

gojo's brows furrow in frustration. “it's more than just a burn and a scratch. you could have seriously hurt yourself, and for what? a damn tea tray?” he snaps, his voice rising slightly, just a little, enough to send you a sign that he is angry.

geto's jaw clenches, his irritation grows with each word you say. “it's not about the damn tea, and you know it. it's about you not taking care of yourself. goddamnit, why is that so hard for you to understand?”

you scoff, frustration bubbling up inside you as their words hit a nerve. you feel their protectiveness, but it’s starting to feel suffocating. “why is it so hard for you two to understand?” you snap back, start to get defensive, eyes narrowing as you meet their intense stares. “i get it, okay? but it’s not a big deal, and you’re making it into one. it’s just a tea tray. i’m not made of fucking glass.”

gojo's eyes narrow in response, his own irritation flaring to match yours. “you're right, you're not made of glass, but that doesn't mean you should act like an idiot and put yourself in danger.”

geto runs a hand through his hair, letting out an exasperated sigh. “it's not about the damn tea! it's about you not listening to us or taking care of yourself. we care about you, more than you can imagine,” he says, his voice tinged with both frustration and concern.

you cross your arms, feeling defensive as their irritation continues to hang heavy in the air, the bubble of anger start hugging you. “i know you’re worried, but i’m not some delicate flower that needs constant watching. i just wanted to do something nice, and now we’re arguing like it’s the end of the world.”

geto’s jaw tightens further, and gojo’s brows knit together even more, but you keep your ground, refusing to back down. “i appreciate that you care, i do. but you’re blowing this way out of proportion. why can’t you just let it go?” you add, your voice softer with defiance, feeling like this whole thing is spiraling into something it never needed to be.

gojo lets out a frustrated huff, running a hand through his hair. “we're not treating you like some delicate flower, baby. we just want you to listen to us when we say we don't want you putting yourself in danger over something so trivial.”

geto steps forward, anger flashing in his eyes. “how many times do we have to tell you that we care about you more than anything? we don't care about the tea, we care about you. goddamnit, why is that so hard for you to understand?”

you scoff loudly, rolling your eyes as you push back against their intensity. “oh please,” you snap, the sarcasm dripping from your voice. “you two are always treating me like i’m some fucking porcelain doll.” your words come out sharper than intended, but you’re fed up with their overprotectiveness.

you start mimicking them, your voice mocking as you wave your hands dramatically. “baby, don’t do this, don’t do that, you’re going to get hurt. don’t touch this, don’t touch that,” you mimic their voice, your tone exaggerated and annoyed. “like, do you hear yourselves? it’s constant! it’s like i can’t do anything without you hovering over me.”

gojo's eyes narrow, his patience wearing thin. “we're not treating you like a porcelain doll. we're treating you like we love you. and when you love someone, you want to protect them from getting hurt.”

geto's jaw clenches, his anger rising in response to your mimicking. “you know what, fine. maybe we do hover too much. but can you blame us? you have a tendency to be reckless, and you never listen to us when we say ‘no.’”

gojo runs a hand through his hair, sighing in frustration. “look, we’re not trying to control you. we just want you to be safe. and lately, it feels like you’re constantly pushing the boundaries, doing things you shouldn’t, and completely disregarding our concerns.”

geto's irritation is clear in his expression as standing near you, hovering with his emotions. “we know you’re strong, and we know you can handle yourself. but sometimes, it’s like you want to push your limits just to prove something, and it scares the hell out of us.“

you roll your eyes, frustration boiling over as you feel cornered by their words. “oh, please, spare me the love speech,” you retort with sarcasm, your voice laced with annoyance. “you’re so overly protective, it’s suffocating. i appreciate that you care, but i’m not some weakling that needs constant protecting.”

you can’t help but feel exasperated as you continue, your tone sharp. you glare at them, feeling like no matter how much you try to explain, they just see you as fragile.

“it’s like you think i’m weak or something,” you add, voice rising with the frustration that’s been building. “i don’t understand why you’re always on my case, like i’m going to break at any second. i’m not made of glass, and i don’t need you constantly breathing down my neck to make sure i’m okay.”

you take a step back, crossing your arms tightly over your chest, trying to put some distance between you and the suffocating concern they keep throwing your way. “i get that you’re worried, but you’re treating me like i can’t do anything without messing up or getting hurt. it’s not fair. i’ve fought curses, i’ve faced danger, and i’ve survived just like you have. so why can’t you see that i’m not some helpless damsel who needs to be saved all the time?”

your voice wavers slightly at the end, the mix of anger and hurt making it hard to keep your composure. you just want them to see you as their equal, not someone who constantly needs looking after.

as you continue your tirade, gojo's patience snaps.

“you know what?” he snaps, his voice rising to match your anger. “we do see you as our equal. we see you as someone who's strong, capable, and independent. but can you blame us for wanting to protect you? can you blame us for wanting to make sure you're not getting hurt just for some stupid tea? we care about you, damnit, and it feels like you're constantly putting yourself in harms way just for shits and giggles!”

his words hit you like a slap, the sharpness of his voice cutting through your anger and leaving you stunned. you stare at him, wide-eyed and speechless, as his frustration spills out. you know you’re not purposely trying to hurt yourself, and they know that too. accidents happen, and not everything is within your control.

you open your mouth to respond, but the weight of his words leaves you feeling deflated, like anything you say would just add fuel to the fire. their concern is suffocating, but your own frustration is blinding, and you realize this argument is going nowhere.

you look at gojo, searching his eyes for some understanding, but all you see is the mix of worry and anger that has been bubbling between you all. feeling a lump form in your throat, you quickly decide that it’s not worth continuing this back-and-forth. without saying a word, you turn on your heel and walk away, your footsteps heavy with a mix of hurt and resignation.

you can hear geto call after you, but you don’t stop. right now, it feels like anything more would just make things worse. so, you keep walking, knowing that some space might be the only thing that’ll help any of you see clearly.

gojo watches you storm away, the anger slowly fading to be replaced with a pang of hurt in his chest. he knows he could have handled that better, but your stubbornness has a way of getting under his skin.

he tries to steady his breathing, trying to push down the emotions churning within him. gojo looks over at geto, who looks as frustrated as he feels.

“great,” gojo mutters under his breath, running a hand through his hair in frustration, “i shouldn't have snapped like that.”

geto shakes his head, the irritation still evident in his expression. “no, you had every right to be angry,” he says, crossing his arms. “she's acting like she's goddamn invincible. she doesn't understand the pain we feel when she puts herself in danger like this.”

sitting by the pond, you let the cool water lap against your legs as you try to calm your racing thoughts. tears stream down your face, a mix of frustration and sadness pouring out as you think about the argument. you feel a deep sense of hurt, knowing that no matter how much you want to show them you’re capable and strong, they always seem to see your actions as reckless.

you wipe at the dried blood on your forehead with the back of your hand, inadvertently smearing it more, and the stinging sensation only adds to your emotional turmoil. you think about how, since you started dating them, their constant hovering and worry have sometimes made you feel stifled, unable to do anything without fear of their disapproval.

you understand that their overprotectiveness comes from a place of love, but it feels like every gesture you make, every small attempt to contribute or show affection, is overshadowed by their anxiety. it’s hard not to feel unappreciated when you see their frustration instead of the gratitude you hoped for.

sitting alone by the pond, the peaceful surroundings offer a sharp contrast to the emotional storm inside you. you let yourself cry, the tears mixing with the cooling water as you try to make sense of it all. you wish they could see that you’re not trying to get hurt or push boundaries for the sake of it, but just to share in the small moments and show them that you care too.

for now, you need this space to process everything, hoping that in time, the argument will settle and you can find a way to make them understand without all the heightened emotions.

gojo and geto stay standing in the living room, the weight of your absence hanging heavily in the air. geto lets out a heavy sigh, his arms still crossed. “we shouldn't have gotten so worked up, that was stupid.”

gojo nods, “yeah, but she drives me nuts sometimes with her stubbornness.”

geto raises an eyebrow. “and you think you're any better? you can be just as stubborn as she is.” gojo rolls his eyes, he grumbles, “shut up, i am not that bad.”

geto smirks, the tension starting to ease between them. “oh really? do you want me to list all the times you’ve been a stubborn ass?”

gojo huffs, offended. “hey, i’m not that bad.”

geto gives him a skeptical look, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “just the other day you refused to listen to me when i told you not to eat an entire pack of candy before dinner.”

gojo's cheeks flush slightly, caught in his own stubbornness. “that was different.” gojo rubs his temples, feeling a headache forming from the tension. “we just want her to be safe. why is that so hard for her to understand?”

geto lets out another sigh. “i know, i know. she's just... she's so used to handling things on her own. it's hard for her to let us in and accept help.”

gojo nods, looking in the direction you stormed off. “i just wish she wouldn't take it as a personal attack every time we try to protect her. we're not trying to control her.”

geto rubs the back of his neck, frustration clear on his face. “i know, but she sees it as us thinking she's weak and incapable. it's like she forgets we see her as our equal, not just some fragile doll.”

there's a moment of tense silence before gojo speaks up again. “do you think... do you think we're suffocating her?” geto's expression softens, considering gojo's question. “it's possible,” he admits. “we may have been a little too protective, a little too... overwhelming.”

gojo lets out a weary sigh, leaning against the wall. “we just want to keep her safe.”

geto nods, the worry in his expression showing how much your safety truly means to them. “we do. but... maybe we're going about it the wrong way. we need to find a balance.”

you stay by the pond until night falls, the cool air eventually nudging you back inside the house. your wounds still sting a bit, but you know it’s better to head inside, especially since your boyfriends don’t like you being outside at night without proper warmth if they’re not around.

you find your way to the kitchen, where you see them talking softly. gojo is perched on a bar stool, his expression a mix of concern and frustration, while geto stands behind the counter, preparing dinner. the soft light from the kitchen casts a warm glow, a stark contrast to the chill outside.

you hesitate for a moment, taking in the sight of them before stepping into the kitchen. gojo’s eyes flicker toward you, a look of surprise crossing his face as he sees you. geto, noticing your presence, immediately stops what he’s doing and turns to face you, his own concern evident.

“hey,” you say softly, not meeting their eyes directly. you don’t want to reopen the argument but feel the need to acknowledge their presence.

gojo’s gaze softens as he takes in your still slightly disheveled appearance. “you alright?” he asks, his voice gentle but laced with worry. you nod, trying to muster a small, reassuring smile. “yeah, i’m fine. just needed some time to cool off.”

geto steps closer, his eyes scanning your face and the smudge of dried blood on your forehead. “you shouldn’t be out there alone like that,” he says quietly, his tone softer than before but still carrying a note of reprimand.

you sigh, feeling the weight of their concern and the argument that still lingers between you. “i know,” you reply. “i just needed some space.” gojo and geto exchange glances, relieved that you're at least somewhat okay but still concerned about your wounds and your emotional state.

gojo crosses his arms, shifting anxiously on his stool. “we were worried.”

geto nods, mirroring gojo's stance. “we know things got heated earlier, but we were really worried about you being out there alone like that.”

gojo runs a hand through his hair, the tension still crackling between the three of you. “we just want to make sure you're safe. we... we care about you, you know that, right?”

gojo softly sighs as he notices the dried blood on your forehead, a concerned look on his face. ”come here,” he says gently, extending a hand towards you. “let me clean that wound and get rid of the dried blood.”

he guides you to a bar stool beside him, his touch careful and reassuring. his eyes are focused and tender as he prepares to tend to your injuries, the frustration from earlier replaced by a more soothing concern. geto watches from the behind counter, his expression softer now, reflecting his own mix of relief and apology.

as gojo carefully dabs at your wound with a soft cloth, his eyes catch the tear stains on your cheeks and the redness in your eyes. his movements still for a moment, a pang of guilt and worry tightening in his chest. “hey...” he murmurs softly, his voice filled with regret as he gently lifts your chin to try and meet your gaze, but you still look away, avoiding their eyes.

geto’s breath heavy slightly when he notices the signs of your crying. he took a seat on your other side beside you, his expression melting into one of deep remorse. “oh, sweetheart…” he whispers, his voice cracking just a bit. “we didn’t want to make you feel like this.”

they both exchange a look, the earlier frustration completely washed away, replaced by a heavy sense of regret for having upset you. gojo brushes a thumb gently against your cheek, wiping away the lingering tears. “we’re so sorry,” he says softly, his tone earnest, “we never wanted to make you feel this way.”

as you sit between them, the weight of their concern and guilt washing over you, a sense of vulnerability slowly replaces the anger from earlier. gojo and geto's touch is gentle and caring, their eyes filled with remorse and apology.

“we... we just want you to understand,” gojo continues, his voice is still soft. “we care about you so much, and it kills us to see you in danger or hurt.”

geto nods in agreement, his hand coming up to gently brush aside a strand of your hair. “we should have been more understanding. we shouldn’t have gotten so angry.”

you take a deep breath, feeling the weight of their words settle over you. the vulnerability in their eyes softens the edges of your frustration, but there's still a lingering ache from how things unfolded earlier. you look down, fiddling with your hands as you gather your thoughts.

“i get it,” you begin quietly, your voice slightly shaky but steady. “i understand why you worry, why you’re always hovering. it’s because you care, and i never said anything about it because i know it comes from love.”

you glance up briefly, catching the guilt in their eyes before looking away again. “but the way you got so mad at me earlier for something i couldn’t control… that’s what hurts. i’m not trying to be reckless, i just wanted to do something nice for you two, without constantly hearing ‘don’t do this’ or ‘don’t do that.’”

you pause, your voice thick with the weight of your emotions. “you both always do everything for me, and i just… i want to give back, even if it’s something small like making tea. i’m not weak, and i’m not going to break. sometimes accidents happen, but it doesn’t mean i’m pushing myself too hard.”

the room falls into a soft silence, your words hanging in the air as they take in everything you’ve said. you can see the realization flicker across their faces, the way their concern had come off as controlling rather than caring, and how deeply it had affected you.

as you finish speaking, you see both gojo and geto's expressions transform, guilt and understanding replacing the frustration from earlier. their eyes reflect the weight of your words, and they know you're right. their protective tendencies have sometimes crossed the line into control, even if it wasn't their intention.

gojo's voice is softer, gentler than earlier, as he responds. “i... we didn't realize it was coming off like that. i guess we just... we're just so used to trying to keep you safe.”

geto nods, his hand reaching out to gently take yours. “we didn't realize that our protective behavior was making you feel like we thought you were weak. that's not how we see you at all,” geto continues, his voice filled with remorse.

gojo interjects, a hint of desperation in his voice. “we never viewed you as breakable or fragile. we just... we just can't bear the thought of something happening to you. but that doesn't give us the right to control your every move. we... we overstepped.”

they both fall silent for a moment, the weight of their actions sinking in further. then, geto speaks again, his voice laced with regret.

“we’re sorry, sweetheart,” he says, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “we never wanted to make you feel like you couldn’t do anything without our say-so. we were being overly protective, we see that now. we just...” he trails off, swallowing the lump in his throat.

gojo chimes in, his voice filled with guilt, “we just couldn't bear the thought of losing you.”

you listen to their words, feeling the sincerity in every syllable, and the walls of frustration that had built up around your heart start to crumble. the intensity of their emotions, their fear of losing you, and the realization of how their actions have affected you sink deep. you can see the regret and guilt etched on their faces, and it tugs at your own heartstrings.

with a small sigh, you squeeze geto’s hand back, glancing between the two of them. “i know you both mean well,” you say softly, your voice carrying the weight of your emotions. “but i’m not going anywhere. you don’t have to worry about me so much that it stops me from doing simple things.”

you look up at them, your eyes still glistening but filled with understanding. “i just want to feel like i can take care of you, too. that i can do things for you without feeling like you’re constantly waiting for me to mess up or get hurt.”

there’s a pause as you take a deep breath, letting go of some of the hurt from earlier. “i love you both, and i appreciate how much you care, but i need you to trust me, too. trust that i know my limits, and that i’ll ask for help when i really need it.”

they listen intently, the weight of your words sinking in. their expressions soften, the guilt and remorse in their eyes deepening.

gojo nods, a look of understanding settling on his face. “we... we get it,” he says, his voice laced with a hint of shame.

geto’s grip on your hand tightens slightly, his voice quieter but no less sincere. “we’ll try to do better. we’ll try to trust you, we just… we just get so worried when things happen, like they did today.”

you gently pull your arm from geto's grasp, showing them the spot where the burn had been. “see? i’m fine,” you say, your tone softer now but still firm. “i heal fast, and it was just a small accident. nothing major.” you point to your forehead, where the cut has already start to heal, a small reminder of how resilient you are.

“i’m not saying you shouldn’t care, but i’m not made of glass,” you continue, looking between them. “i can handle a few bumps and bruises. i just want you to see that i’m stronger than you give me credit for.”

as you show them the healing burn and the nearly faded cut, they cannot help but feel a mixture of relief and shame. they know you're right, that you heal quickly, but the worry always lurks in their minds.

gojo runs a hand through his hair, his voice laced with remorse. “we know you’re not delicate, we just…”

geto cuts in, his gaze flitting to the almost healed wound on your forehead. “we just panic when we see you hurt. it’s hard… it’s hard for us to see you in pain, even just a little.”

you look at them both, your voice steady but gentle. “i’m fine now, really. you know better than anyone that sorcerers are built different. a little scratch like this,” you gesture to your forehead, “it’s nothing. it’ll be gone by morning.”

you can see the mix of relief and lingering worry in their eyes, but you continue, hoping to ease their minds. “i get it, okay? i understand why you’re worried. but you don’t have to be so scared every time something happens to me. i can handle it.”

geto and gojo exchange a look, your words sinking in. they can see the truth in your statement, that you're no delicate flower that needs constant shielding. they know that you're strong, capable, and they should trust your abilities.

gojo lets out a weary sigh, finally nodding reluctantly. “you’re right,” he says.

geto nods as well, a look of understanding passing over his face. he reaches out and gently takes your hand again. “we know you can handle yourself. we just… we just care about you too much to not worry.”

you squeeze geto’s hand gently, looking between the two of them. “can we just stop now?” you say softly, your voice tinged with exhaustion. “because if we keep talking about it, it’s never going to end. you guys always find a way to worry about me.”

geto lets out a small chuckle, though it’s more resigned than amused. “yeah, we do, don’t we?”

they both notice the weariness in your voice, and how the conversation just keeps going in circles. gojo lets out a weary sigh, running a hand through his messy hair while geto’s laughter is more bitter than amused.

“yeah,” he says, his grip on your hand loosening slightly. “we do.”

the tension in the room lessens a bit, replaced by a sense of mutual understanding. they both nod, acknowledging their tendency to worry excessively about your well-being.

you take a deep breath, feeling the tension in the air begin to fade. “i promise i’ll try to be less reckless with myself, hm?” you say softly, your tone sincere as you look at both of them. “i know you just want what’s best for me.”

they both soften at your words, the weight of their worry slightly alleviated. gojo grins weakly, a hint of his usual playful demeanour peeking through. “less reckless, huh? that's a tall order for you.”

geto sighs, a small smile tugging at his lips. “we do want what's best for you. we just wish it didn't have to come with so much anxiety.” you roll your eyes, a small, amused smile forming on your lips. “you two are impossible,” you mumble, leaning in to press a quick kiss to each of their cheeks. “assholes,” you add, your voice filled with affection rather than malice.

they both snort at your fond insult, the previous tension all but gone now. gojo's lips turn up in a cocky grin, his usual bravado returning. “you love it,” he teases, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards him.

geto lets out a soft chuckle, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “we may be assholes, but we're yours,” he replies, leaning in to capture your lips in a gentle kiss.

they continue to pepper your face with light kisses, their affections filling the room once again. gojo speaks first, his voice laced with amusement. “so, does this mean you'll be less reckless now, hm?”

geto nods in agreement, his hands still gently holding your face. “please do. we might actually start going gray from all the worry.” you nod, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “anything for my overbearing assholes,” you say, your tone light and affectionate.

both gojo and geto snort at the term 'overbearing assholes boyfriends'. gojo rolls his eyes dramatically, while geto just shakes his head, unable to hide his amused grin. “overbearing assholes,” gojo repeats, chuckling. “can't say that's too far off the mark.”

geto adds with a smirk, “but we're your assholes. and we're pretty damn sure you wouldn't have us any other way.” you chuckle, nodding with a playful sigh. “sadly,” you say, leaning in to give each of them a soft peck on the lips.

#jjk x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #geto x y/n #geto x you #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #jjk fluff #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #satosugu fluff #satosugu angst #satosugu x reader #satoru x reader #suguru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader

431 notes · View notes

fanfictionismyaddiction · 3 months ago

Note

Toto Wolff with wife reader. New video for the Merc team and they rope the couple to answer questions in This or That. Which seems to be an instant hit among the internet. Feat their son, Jack. Up to you. Thanks!! :))

Unscripted Moments

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader, feat. Jack

Word count: 1.4k

Request are open

______________________________________________________________

The sun was bright over Brackley as the Mercedes-AMG Petronas F1 Team headquarters buzzed with activity. It was a special day—media day, where the team filmed content for their social media channels and sponsors. Among the lineup of activities, one stood out as a highlight: a “This or That” video featuring the Team Principal, Toto Wolff, and his wife, Y/n. To add an extra dose of charm, their young son, Jack, would join them.

The idea had been floated around for weeks. Fans adored Toto’s serious, calculated demeanor in the paddock, but whenever he appeared with Y/n and Jack, a different side of him came to life—one full of warmth, humor, and a little bit of mischief. The media team knew this would be gold, a perfect blend of light-hearted fun and family love that would resonate deeply with fans around the world.

As the day began, Y/n and Jack arrived at the headquarters, warmly greeted by the staff. Y/n was no stranger to the world of Formula 1; she had stood by Toto’s side through every victory and defeat, offering her unwavering support. Today, however, was different. It wasn’t just about the cars, the team, or the strategy. It was about their family.

Jack, bouncing with excitement, held onto Y/n’s hand as they made their way to the set. The production crew had transformed one of the spacious lounges into a cozy, living room-like setting. There were plush sofas, soft throw pillows, and a few framed photos of the Mercedes cars in action, giving the room a personal touch.

Toto, already on set, was talking to the director when Y/n and Jack walked in. His face lit up at the sight of them. “There’s my little man!” he exclaimed, scooping Jack up in his arms. Jack giggled, his tiny arms wrapping around his father’s neck.

Y/n watched them with a smile, her heart swelling with love. Toto was always busy, always on the go, but when it came to his family, he made sure they knew they were his top priority.

“Ready for this?” Toto asked, his voice light, but with an undercurrent of playfulness. He leaned in to kiss Y/n softly, his free hand resting on the small of her back.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Y/n replied with a grin, adjusting the collar of Toto’s shirt before smoothing down Jack’s hair. “Jack’s been practicing his answers all morning.”

Jack beamed proudly. “I’m going to say ‘Airplane!’ every time,” he declared, which made both his parents laugh.

The director clapped his hands together, signaling the start of the shoot. “Alright, everyone, let’s get started. Y/n, Toto, Jack—you’re the stars today.”

The family settled into their seats, with Toto in the middle, Y/n on his right, and Jack perched comfortably on his lap. The cameras zoomed in, capturing the easy, loving dynamic between them. Toto’s arm rested casually behind Y/n, his hand occasionally brushing against her shoulder, while Jack fiddled with the buttons on Toto’s shirt, clearly enjoying the attention.

“Okay, first question,” the producer said, his voice lively. “Coffee or Tea?”

Y/n didn’t hesitate. “Tea, definitely.”

Toto shot her a mock-surprised look. “Tea? Really? I’ve been making you coffee every morning for years, and now you tell me you prefer tea?”

Y/n laughed, nudging him playfully. “You make it so well, I couldn’t break your heart by saying anything.”

Toto chuckled, shaking his head. “And all this time I thought I was being the perfect husband.”

“You are,” Y/n reassured him, leaning into his side. “Just with slightly misguided caffeine choices.”

The camera caught every bit of the banter, from Toto’s faux shock to Y/n’s playful smile. Jack, sensing the mood, contributed his own answer with a loud “Juice!” which earned a burst of laughter from everyone on set.

“Juice is a valid choice,” Toto said, ruffling his son’s hair affectionately. “But only when Mum’s not looking.”

“Excuse me?” Y/n raised an eyebrow, her tone teasing. “Are you encouraging our son to sneak juice?”

Toto’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Only in emergencies,” he quipped, which caused Y/n to roll her eyes in mock exasperation.

The questions kept coming, and so did the laughs. “Mountains or Beach?” was next, and Y/n immediately answered, “Beach. There’s nothing like the sound of waves and the feeling of sand between your toes.”

Toto nodded thoughtfully. “True, but the mountains have their own charm. The peace, the quiet... Perfect for a getaway.”

“Perfect for escaping emails and phone calls, you mean,” Y/n teased.

“Exactly,” Toto admitted with a grin. “But honestly, I’d go anywhere as long as it’s with you two.”

The sweet comment made Y/n blush slightly, and the crew couldn’t help but let out a collective “aww.” Jack, who had been listening intently, chimed in with “Airplane!” again, sticking to his plan, which sent everyone into fits of laughter.

“Looks like Jack is sticking to his guns,” the producer said, still chuckling. “How about we change it up a bit? Dogs or Cats?”

“Dogs,” Y/n and Toto answered simultaneously, their voices merging into one. They exchanged amused looks, both remembering the countless times they’d been charmed by stray dogs during their travels.

“Especially the time we tried to bring one home from Monaco,” Y/n reminisced, her eyes sparkling.

Toto nodded. “That dog was convinced we were meant to adopt him. He followed us everywhere.”

“And he almost ended up in our suitcase,” Y/n added with a laugh.

“Jack would have loved him,” Toto said, glancing down at his son, who was now pretending to be a dog, barking softly.

“Maybe one day,” Y/n mused, resting her head on Toto’s shoulder.

The producer, sensing the perfect segue, moved on to the next question. “Formula 1 or Football?”

This one took a moment. Y/n grinned, knowing where her loyalties lay. “Formula 1, of course. How could I choose anything else when I’m married to this guy?”

Toto smiled, a bit bashful under the attention. “I’d have to agree, but,” he leaned in conspiratorially, “I do enjoy a good football match. Just don’t let the drivers know.”

The cameras caught the playful exchange, the way Y/n playfully nudged Toto, the fond look in Toto’s eyes as he gazed at her. Jack, meanwhile, shouted “Cars!” in a burst of excitement, once again steering the conversation back to his favorite subject.

“You know what, Jack?” Toto said, shifting his son slightly so he was facing the camera. “One day, you’ll be in one of those cars, and I’ll be on the pit wall cheering you on.”

Jack’s eyes widened with delight at the idea. “Really, Daddy?”

“Absolutely,” Toto replied, pressing a kiss to Jack’s forehead. “But first, you have to promise Mum and me that you’ll always have your juice.”

Y/n laughed, shaking her head at the promise. “That’s one way to secure his focus.”

The producer smiled, flipping to the final card. “Morning person or night owl?”

Y/n and Toto looked at each other, this time with more serious expressions, though still laced with affection. “Night owl,” Y/n said with a knowing smile.

“I’m a morning person,” Toto countered, “though I’ve learned to appreciate the night more because of you.”

Y/n tilted her head, her smile growing. “You’re sweet. But you have to admit, some of our best conversations happen late at night, after Jack’s asleep, when it’s just the two of us.”

Toto nodded in agreement, his hand finding hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re right. Those are the moments I cherish most. Even if it means less sleep.”

Jack, who had been listening carefully, suddenly yawned, earning another round of laughter from the crew. “Looks like someone’s not quite sure if he’s a morning person or a night owl yet,” Y/n said, wrapping her arm around Jack and drawing him close.

The session wrapped up soon after, with the family exchanging warm goodbyes with the crew. As they walked off the set, hand in hand, the cameras continued to roll, capturing those unscripted moments that showed just how close-knit the Wolff family truly was.

When the video was finally released, it was an instant hit. The internet exploded with love for the Wolff family, with fans praising their natural chemistry and the way they made every moment feel genuine and full of heart. Jack became an overnight sensation, with his “Airplane!” answer and infectious smile winning the hearts of millions.

“More Wolff family content, please!” was a common comment, along with “Jack is the real MVP!” and “Toto and Y/n are couple goals!”

#fanfiction #reader insert #fanfic #f1 #toto wolff #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #toto wolff x reader #fluff #Toto Wolff

592 notes · View notes

mariasont · 2 months ago

Text

RAINY WITH A CHANCE OF HOTCH - A.H

a/n: hi wow it's been a hot minute!

firstly, i just want to say i am so incredibly grateful for everyone who has reached out <3 i love you all and once i am not as overwhelmed i promise i'll go through my messages and inbox. you all are amazing and im kissing you all through the screen.

secondly, this summer was the hottest messiest express that could have been is the short n sweet explanation to my disappearance (sabrina reference, sorry i had to) but i just struggled hard core with my mental health and needed a detox from social media.

thirdly, but i'm back and i love you all and here is a short like fic featuring everyone's fav miss bimbo reader <3

masterlist

parings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: just some cuties being cute

wc: 0.6k

Hotch hesitated to acknowledge the fact that he found himself often gazing out of his office window, discreetly observing your arrival in the parking lot each morning. He attempted to justify this behavior by reasoning that, as the unit chief, it was within his responsibilities to monitor the welfare of his team.

He mentally recited the same mantra repeatedly as he moved towards the exit, an umbrella tapping persistently against his side. Hotch found himself calling out your name before he realized it, his hand shielding his face from the unrelenting raindrops as he took in your appearance.

"Stay there," he borderline commanded, moving towards you as you clung to the driver’s side door.

You looked as pretty as ever, with your hair swept back from your face and curls framing your doe eyes. It made you that much more alluring and, consequently, even more distracting.

When you first joined as his assistant, he discreetly suggested to whoever was in charge of the hires back then that he was less than pleased with the arrangement. He found it hard to focus, his eyes constantly drawn to you. He wanted to claim it was involuntary, but he knew there was intention behind his constant search for you.

"Well, hi there, boss man," you chirped, your disposition utterly unaffected by the water that had dampened your outfit.

He considered himself a noble man, honorable even, or so he told himself as he resisted the urge to glance down at your blouse that was now nearly see-through.

He quickly unfurled the umbrella, taking the liberty of shielding your perfect face from the onslaught of raindrops. You smiled up at him in a way that was so carefree it made his heart clench in his chest.

He cleared his throat. “You’ll catch a cold if you stay out here.”

“Good thing you’re here to prevent that.”

Aaron’s face was now wet, rivulets of rain tracing paths from his hair to his chin. He struggled to prevent a smile at your words, tucking his chin into his chest to conceal it.

He let you take hold of his arm, your purse occasionally tapping into his leg as he closed your car door and started towards the entrance. You leaned in closer, earning a knowing look from him.

You smiled into your coffee, pink lipstick staining the travel cup. “What? I wasn’t all the way under the umbrella.”

He knew that was a lie because he wasn’t all the way under the umbrella, ensuring you were fully covered.

“I didn’t say a word.”

“Your eyes are very expressive, Mr.”

“Then you should know I’m thinking we need to get you inside and dry." He looked at you knowingly, his grip on the umbrella tightening as you both reached the entrance.

“Dry? Around you?” you questioned, smiling innocently towards Hotch as he closed the umbrella and opened the front door. “Wishful thinking, sir.”

“Do I need to remind you we’re at work?”

Hotch combed his semi-damp hair with his fingers, flicking some water in your direction. You squealed, hands flying to shield your face, a stream of giggles following. The smile on his face was now inevitable.

“Sorry, can’t help myself,” you managed to say through the laughter.

He kissed your cheek softly, then started to walk to his office. Glancing back, he adds, “You’ll be sorry when we get home.”

That shut you up.

taglist: @readergf @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @freyy253 @broadwaytraaaaash @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @crouchingapple @navia3000 @aaronlovesava @bakugocanstompme @pansexualhailstorm @averyhotchner @looking1016 @everythinglizzy @sky2nd @messylxve @alexxavicry @yaykeira @spencerssatchel @candyd1es @storiesofsvu @pleasantwitchgarden @kodzukenmaaa @hiireadstuff @dilflover-3 @spenciesslut @phoenix-le-danseur-de-pole @deadofnight0 @sabmichell @jstcln @just-here-to-read13 @c-losur3

join my taglist here!

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x bimbo reader #aaron hotchner x bimbo #bimbo reader #criminal minds

618 notes · View notes

goxjo · 4 months ago

Text

⟢ ┈ he likes to dress you up !

content. f! reader, voyeurism / my favorite voyeur big spender! satoru, pet names: princess + baby, he calls you sexy, being satoru’s barbie doll, implied semi-public sex, minors do not interact (18+)

thinking about gojo satoru taking you shopping, dressing you up however he wants like he always does. he says it’s his favorite hobby- treating you like the princess he knows you are despite you feeling overwhelmed from your constant spoils.

he certainly does not care how much you say is ‘too much’, or that you’re not used to this kind of luxury. all he knows is he absolutely revels in the twinkle in your eyes seeing yourself clad in clothes that bring out your best features. that, and no one’s ever treated you like this before- it’s imperative he gets to be the first and only!

he knows your size like the back of his hand. the act alone of picking out clothes for you to try on is enough to drive him insane, blood rushing to his cheeks as he holds out a piece of clothing. just imagining your sweet chest filling the bust area, the fabric clinging to your figure, molding to the shape of you, his cock nearly swells thinking how sexy you’ll look wearing all the stuff he chooses for you.

not to mention how he particularly likes to enter the dressing room with you, no matter how hard store attendants have tried time and time again to keep him out. aside from the fact that he’s one of their biggest patrons - and that’s only ever since he met you - no one’s been able to stop him from watching you strip in and out of dresses, skirts, raunchy tops, and the occasional (usual) lingerie, blue eyes deadlocked to your figure the entire time.

and more often than not, attendants have to turn a blind eye to… the common commotion within the dressing room- a.k.a. the sweet little noises you and him make that dressing room doors and curtains did nothing to stifle. they’ve got no choice but. after all, how often do they find their commissions blowing up to 3x their weekly average in just one afternoon.

next item to try on is one he dubs one of his favorites- a black strappy dress that hugs you tight around the waist, with a slit riding up to your thighs, and a deep plunging neckline.

“zip?” you ask after struggling to even get it halfway through. “up…” you add.

“my bad!” gojo hums, ogling you through the mirror. “what’d I tell ya? you look perfect.”

“I don’t know, i-it’s showing too much.”

“you look sexy.” his voice is low, hot breath fanning your ear while his hand caresses your side.

“I-I still don’t know…”

gojo steps out of the dressing room, leaving the curtains wide open to call in one of the attendants.

“what do we think?” he asks the attendant, one arm crossed over the other, the other hand bringing a knuckle to his chin. a pair of eyes study you who’s feeling incredibly tense under their gaze.

“I think it looks perfect.” the attendant shakes their head feigning disbelief. anything to please their big-spenders.

“so do I. I think she looks sexy. tell her she looks sexy.”

“you look very sexy, miss!”

gojo dismisses the attendant as soon as they affirmed his little musings.

“was that really necessary?” you ask, turning to look at yourself on the mirror once more. your head tilts to the side, eyes squinting as you attempt to see gojo’s vision.

“now, do you see what I see?” gojo sneaks his hands around your waist from behind you. “Fuck, baby. I’m getting hard just looking at you.”

“I think so…”

“perfect. keep it on, need to rip it off of you when we get home.”

REBLOGS & COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED !!! ♡

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo x reader #jjk smut #gojo satoru smut #jjk imagines #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #!love letters #!jjk #!gojo #tw voyeurism

550 notes · View notes

pearlywritings · 1 year ago

Text

In father's embrace

synopsis: Genshin men as dads and what your family dynamic is like.

pairings: Ayato, Thoma, Alhaitham, Kaveh, Tighnari x fem!reader (separately)

tw: fluff, established relationship, mentions of pregnancy

word count: 7.2k words

a/n: I really wanted to write Diluc and Kaeya, but realized that I can't create something new since I already have a family AU with them. Here's the materlist's link if you are interested! Also you can find the HSR version of this here!

Ayato

This man is a dad of twins - a boy and a girl. Both babies took more in their mom’s appearance, but have his soft violet eyes and honestly? This man adores you, his wife, so when he sees your kids develop more and more of your features as they grow - his heart can’t be fuller.

He is a fun and patient dad - he will teach them anything they ask him to, and offer guidance, yet still leaving space for them to learn some on their own. He also enjoys when they sneak into his study during his working hours (because mom decided to take a nap, and Thoma went out grocery shopping, and they are so-so boooooored), letting them wander around the room for the nth time, touching all the trophies and scrolls he has there (all the things that could be of danger were long removed), and when they eventually feel sleepy, crawl closer to him to nap, resting their heads on his thighs while he stays in his kneeling position, writing.

Even if they look a lot like you, it’s so easy to tell that they are his kids - the mischief babbling in their little bodies is untamable for the longest time, and Ayato loves it. Sure, sometimes it is a headache, and mostly for you, but at least they didn’t develop strange tastes in food like their father. More than once they used their similar looks to play pranks on the staff members or their parents, dressing in each other’s clothes and going about their day like that. What does their father think of it? Two words - “promising” and “entertaining”.

They are also their aunt’s absolute delight. Ayaka adores them, showering the two with gifts and attention. And even though she and Ayato are not twins like her niece and nephew - she still feels warmly nostalgic whenever she witnesses their interactions.

Best aunt - thanks to her Vision the twins experienced the joy of ice skating, lessons of etiquette became more fun (though still effective), more days off were granted to her brother to spend time with his family (she practically started stealing his paperwork at some point to fulfill it on her own). She and Thoma are making your life so much easier and for the first time Ayato truly feels at peace and like he is living his life at its fullest. The quiet rooms of the Kamisato Estate are finally filled with joyous laughter and summer warm happiness - his kids are bringing back the light to the gloomily strict atmosphere of the family house.

But sometimes the two only add the workload to his plate in the most wild ways possible.

Ayato closely observes one of his kids - presumably the son - as both the parent and the child are sitting in the room dedicated to the twins’ studying. They have the best tutors Inazuma could provide and both showed exceptional results in all their classes. Even if one of them failed an examination on the first try - the second one was always a success. That was until you walked in on your daughter rewriting her history test, only to discover your son in her place, with his sister’s clothes and blue locks tied in her manner. And that’s when the truth came to light.

Honestly it was no surprise their teachers never suspected anything - only four people could tell the twins apart easily - you, Ayato, Ayaka and Thoma, though the latter had trouble with that occasionally, and your children made sure to speak as similar as possible once the idea of replacing each other appeared. Of which you also learned that day Ayato and you sat them down and urged to tell you everything. The scolding about cheating from you and a lecture from Ayato on the topic of how important it is to do as good as you can on your own were provided, but in the end you just hugged them and said that you do not expect them to be perfect in everything, which left the kids relieved.

But from then on Ayato has been in charge of supervising the twins during their exam retakes. Just like today.

“Public diplomacy, national security, diplomatic etiquette, hm…” the head of the Kamisato clan skips across the paper with questions the tutor gave him beforehand on the latest topic of international relationships. He notices how his child doesn’t fidget and doesn’t even let the eyes run across the room - the straight posture and neutral expression etched on a thirteen-year old’s face is admirable. But he does note the uncharacteristic stiffness. Along with another major thing.

“Princess, where is your brother?”

Eyes widen slightly, but that’s enough to prove that he is correct. He watches his daughter hesitate for a moment, though there is no doubt in his mind that neither of his children would ever lie to him or their mother. And the defeated sigh shows as much.

“Sorry, father,” the girl lowers her gaze in apology. Fishing a hairpin from behind her brother’s kimono lapel, she makes quick work of collecting her hair. Then she looks into his eyes again.

“He is in my room, pretending to be me and probably stressing. Before you ask why we decided to switch - he begged me to.” “Oh?” Ayato puts the papers to the side and rests his chin on an open palm. “Could you please elaborate?” “Remember how we went to the Kujo residence for a playdate?” Her father hums, already getting a vague understanding of what’s going on. “And when we accidentally overheard how the oldest son was being scolded by his father for not doing enough in his studies. And brother got it into his head that if he keeps failing not once but more times, you are going to be disappointed in him. I know he studied for this retake, I helped him with that, but at the last moment he got anxious, and, well, here I am. Like all those years ago.”

“I see,” the man in front of her nods, and she doesn’t see any negative emotion painted on his face. Quite the contrary, he smiles.

“Be a dear, go get your brother and come back together. Change the clothes though. Oh, and tell him I am not mad, okay?” “Okay, father,” she mirrors his smile and relief flashes in her eyes - the girl truly cares for her twin, and that warms Ayato’s heart.

When half an hour later both arrive there is already a table served with tea and sweets, and the head of the Kamisato family immediately invites them to take their seats. His daughter looks calm, which can’t be said about his son - the boy has the most miserable look on his face, holding onto his sister’s hand and staring at the surface of the tea in his cup. Ayato decides to speak first.

“Kujo family is the last people one should take as an example,” his firm, yet reassuring tone makes his son glance at him. “Sure, they are respected, but their methods are too old-fashioned, and the way they treat their children is no good. Do you understand, little blossoms?”

They nod and even if Ayato doesn’t see it, he knows they squeeze each other’s hand.

“You better do, because neither me nor your mother will ever push you to the point of devastation. In studies as well,” the boy bites his lip. “I am serious. I will not be disappointed in either of you if you have to retake one test again and again. Striking for perfection is a good goal, but not when you torture yourself physically and emotionally to achieve it.”

“But father…” his son lifts his eyes and stares right into Ayato’s and it shoots right through his chest how vulnerable the kid looks. “You are perfect. And I don’t want to let you down…” “Me? Perfect? Oh, dear,” the man can’t hold a light laugh back. “Ask your mother and she’ll prove you so wrong, trust me. And none of you is letting me down - you should be proud of yourselves. At such young age you both show bright talents and knowledge - and it’s okay if it’s not the case for every possible field of studies. This is general education, later you’ll get more practice to catch up, or concentrate on your strongest abilities. Listen,” he addresses his son specifically, and the boy cocks his head to the side a little, “be more confident and trust your sister if she insists you are doing well. Don’t be afraid to ask questions and come to me if you feel unsure, alright?”

The boy glances down, letting the words sink in, and Ayato patiently waits. In his mind he admits that it's his oversight - he should've noticed earlier that one of his kids has been struggling. Now he will make sure to change that.

Eventually his son deeply sighs and looks at the adult in front of him with trust reflecting in those pretty eyes.

“Alright,” he nods with a small smile lifting the corners of his lips. Slowly standing up and letting go of his twin’s hand, he rounds the table and steps right into Ayato’s outstretched arms, wrapping his own around the man’s neck.

“Thank you, father,” he whispers right before burying his face into haori-clad shoulder. “I love you so much.”

And the man smiles, whispering those words back and soothingly patting his back, as the daughter shows him thumbs up with the tenderest look in her eyes.

Thoma

This man is such a sweet dad - nearly cried, when your first child, a girl, was delivered. Same was when a couple years later the son was born too.

Juggling his work and caring for his kids was never an issue for him. A big part of it was played by the Kamisato couple, who allowed him to bring first his daughter and then his son to work, when each of them was old enough. Which, most likely, was what prompted the Kamisatos to have their own kids - one day years ago you and Thoma wanted to have a date night - one you haven't had in a while - and Ayato's wife offered to watch your little baby girl. Does it need to be mentioned she wanted her own kids after that?

Thoma's kids are taught to be polite and respectful, but not overly reserved and quiet, no - in your own house the man would literally let them destroy the kitchen in attempts to bake something as an experiment and then turn cleaning it up into a fun game of three, or four, if you decide to join.

He is that kind of dad, who constantly falls asleep with both kids nestled on his chest and his arms wrapped around them, with a book of tales either lying on his stomach or abandoned on the floor. You literally mastered your technique of waking him up without stirring the kids, so you could bring the two to their rooms.

Your kids love walks, whether it’s in the city or admiring the scenery near the Kamisato Estate. When it’s in the city though, the four of you attract attention without a fail. Especially elders, who coo at the image of Thoma holding his daughter’s hand and you cradling your little boy to your chest. You are literally showered in little gifts and are offered many discounts, because everyone adores and respects your family. At some point for a short period of time a rumor was running around Inazuma City, that if you get to see all four members of the Kamisato retainer’s family, luck is going to follow you through the day. Thoma had to ensure it came to an end, wanting to keep you three safe and not being followed around in your leisure time.

To summarize it’s needless to say that this man is a natural when it comes to being a father. He already aced being a great husband, you never had any doubt that the same would be true about becoming a dad. And it brings you so much joy that your kids are aware of it.

Making your husband's lunch is an essential part of your morning routine. Sure, the Kamisato Estate provides its workers with meals and breaks, but knowing how much Thoma loves your home-cooked meals, you'll never refuse him this pleasure.

On days like today you pack two more lunches, for your kids - yesterday they expressed their desire to go and help their dad. But you are more than aware of the plan they've had in their mind for the longest time. That's why you turn a blind eye and chop fruits particularly loudly, when you ten- and four-year olds sneak into the kitchen and hide something in the wrapper of an already packed lunch.

And when they were leaving and every member of your family gave you kisses, you couldn’t help but notice the decreased stack of small papers you have in the hall to make notes.

Maybe next time, you’ll ask your kids to join.

Thoma bringing his kids to work is always a pleasant surprise to the Estate’s staff. Even the guards by the gates can’t keep their composure, when the girl cheerfully greets them, wishing a good day, and the boy softly chirps a little “hi” and shyly waves his hand at them. Next person they always meet is Furuta - and the old lady adores their greeting ritual and is the one who looks after the fellow housekeeper’s kids when they help or play outside. But if usually the woman just makes small compliments to the children and chides Thoma for not bringing them over more, today his daughter breaks the routine - she suddenly lets go of his hand and quickly runs to her father’s colleague and asks her to speak in the corner. A bit stunned, the blonde watches the two move farther and start quietly talking. The boy in his arms curiously watches them and then, as if realizing something claps his hands.

“What is it, cookie?” But the only answer he receives is merry giggling.

The next strange thing happens, when the three of them arrive in his room - kids, looking as suspicious as possible, start making excuses to go and play first, though they usually insist on following him around unless they get bored, and as they disappear behind the door with his daughter’s bag - Master Ayato requests his visit.

Getting out of his office only an hour later, Thoma has to rush to his duties, realizing that he’ll have to speed up if he wants to finish everything the blue-haired man has just told him to do. He even handed him a list with tasks, which never happened. What’s going on?

Not finding the children in his room, he decides to start without them, assuming they'll join him later. Okay, what’s the first thing on the list… Check all the chairs. Alright…

Luckily this piece of furniture isn’t numerous in the residence, giving the culture of Inazuma, and Thoma knows perfectly every single room where he can find them. What he wasn’t expecting to find is the folded papers on the seats of some of those. Upon unfolding each revealed a single letter. Strange… Well, at least the chairs themselves are in the required condition.

Tucking the papers in his pocket and fishing the list out of the other one, the man checks his next destination. Check all the bushes around the main building. Blinking, he looks again. No, the handwriting is definitely his master’s, but the contents? In his style, but why so sudden?

Following every single point, Thoma manages to find in total 13 papers with letters on it, before the list stops being weird and advises the housekeeper to dedicate the time before lunch to his common responsibilities. Which he, with an exhale of relief, proceeds to fulfill.

When the time for lunch rolls around, kids, as if magically, reappear at his side and innocently smile at him, asking how he spent his time. He promises to tell them over lunch.

Lunch, that brings him four more pieces of paper. And suddenly, both kids are not that interested in food.

“Make a phrase, make a phrase!” His daughter chants, holding her brother in her lap, and the little boy claps his hands, chanting ‘make! make!’. Already realizing that all of this was their meticulously crafted plan (to participate in which they managed to convince quite a few people), Thoma doesn’t oppose, putting all the papers on the table in front of him.

S V E E T S I R H E Y B T

And A P A P which he got from his lunch.

“The” is guessed immediately. “Is” as well. When he reaches for the “A P A P” to add it to the pile, the girl suddenly lunges forward, putting her hand on top of it and shaking her head. Alright, not yet.

S V E E T R Y B is left. Okay, maybe “very” and… “best”!

Moving the pieces around in utter concentration, the man puts the words in the right order. And only then the ten-year old lifts her hand. With a baited breath he moves the four remaining pieces a little more and his heart skips a beat, and the summer-green eyes widen.

PAPA IS THE VERY BEST

“Surprise!” The girl beams with the widest smile, hugging her brother. “We wrote it together! See how some of the letters are clumsy? He did it!” She proudly looks at the boy, gently ruffling his hair. “Recently he was trying to learn how to write! You are the first one who sees it, even mom didn’t! And we chose this phrase, because- dad, are you crying?”

Warm silent tears are indeed running down his cheeks and the man nods, not trusting his voice. A whirlwind of emotions overtakes him, making it a little hard to formulate his thoughts, but he reacts immediately when his kids rush to him, opening his arms and catching them in a tight embrace. He'll tell them how touched he is, he'll praise them, he'll declare his love for them again and again. A tiny bit later. Now he just needs to hold them and hear that he, for real, "is the very best papa".

Alhaitham and Kaveh

Listen, just LISTEN - imagine these men’s pure shock when their wives surprise them over a double date at Kaveh’s house with their pregnancies. Like, AT THE SAME TIME. Kaveh is gaping at his woman, but Alhaitham is no better - a glass with wine frozen in air in the middle of his attempt to put it back on the table as his eyes are not blinking, glued to his spouse. The blonde would be the first one to break from his stupor and tightly hug his wife, kissing all over her face all laughter and little jumping in place, while his junior would finally put the glass down and beckon his woman onto his lap and bury his face in her neck with arms around her body, quietly thanking her for amazing news.

The kids are not even formed in the women’s stomachs, but they already have a story to share.

Alhaitham

Despite not giving the impression the man likes the idea of being a father to a child together with you, his beloved. Of course the pregnancy was planned, but even he couldn’t predict the possibility of you and his friend’s wife being pregnant at the same time. Though he does find it a little amusing and can’t lie to himself that watching you and your female friend discuss the nursery designs, the clothes, the gender, the two babies becoming akin to siblings warms his heart.

He always loved quiet evenings with you, but later, as your bump got more and more prominent, he finds himself craving your back pressed to his chest and his palms cradling your rounding stomach. He talks to his kid in there, reads them books and soothes, when they are restless and don’t let you sleep that well. And that’s how early on you understood who’s going to be the one putting your newborn to sleep, because your persuasions didn’t work that well.

And your husband doesn’t mind. He actually loves cradling his daughter - yes, it’s a little girl! - to his chest and lull her to sleep - it gives him an unimaginable sense of fulfillment.

As your little wonder grows older, Kaveh can’t help but comment how similar her scowl is to her father’s - combined with the annoyed sharp glare of the eyes she also got from him. But that’s only when she is being capricious. Most of the time she is calm and sporting your sweet smile, voice soft and eyes lacking the mentioned above sharpness.

By the way, she is older than Kaveh’s kid, which makes the Scribe just a little bit smug.

Alhaitham is all too happy to be the one educating her. He makes sure to balance her time spending with him and her time spending with you, encouraging her to engage in your hobbies and have a mother-daughter time. But the most he loves the time the three of you spend together - be it as simple as grocery shopping, having a meal together or cuddling in the evening, or going on whole little expeditions, because his girl wants to explore something on the topic she is currently interested in.

Oh, and he is so biased when it comes to her. There is only one non-scholar kid in all of Sumeru who has her own personal access to the House of Daena, research laboratories, research data and the Scribe’s office at any working hour - and that’s your daughter.

“Look, that’s the Scribe’s wife!”

Taken aback, you stop in your way when at least a dozen students surround you. Raising an eyebrow you survey their faces thoughtfully, noting that they seem to be quite desperate. But even before you can open your mouth they interrupt.

“Tell him to let us in! We have applications to submit!”

“And I have questions why mine was declined!”

“I need his signature on my thesis papers!”

“He locked himself inside with your daughter and said not to disturb their nap! Unbelievable-”

“And how exactly can I help?” You cut through the cacophony of their voices. Students look at you as if you’ve just grown a second head.

“...you are his wife? You can influence him.” “First of all, demanding something from a person you barely know is simply rude,” you narrow your eyes and a chill runs down some of the spines - for a moment you looked just like your husband. “Secondly, I am not involved in his work and I don’t plan to. Now, please, step aside.”

“You can’t be so cruel!”

“Oh, and you can? Let me guess, at least half of you missed deadlines, a small portion made mistakes again and the rest are not in an urgent need to see my husband, but decided to stick with others in hopes that getting to him right now will work?”

Leaving them stunned by your easy guess, you finally push your way through, holding a box with food you brought for lunch close to your chest. Once in front of the door you don’t even have the time to raise a fist for knocking, because the door unlocks and opens, revealing the tall man behind it.

Silently and quickly you step inside and the door shuts again, the key turns in the lock and then is thrown on the nearest table. The office meets you with welcomed tranquility, and dimmed lights are a nice contrast to the blindingly white walls of the Akademiya.

“So, you heard everything? They said you were napping,” you question his guess of when to open the door to let you in. Alhaitham rolls his eyes, glaring at the hindrance you left behind the door, and then takes the box from you.

“I was, but since I lent my earpieces I could hear the commotion in the corridor,” with his free hand he takes yours and leads you further into the room. There, on the sofa, you spot your daughter - wearing her dad’s device and napping, curled under his cape.

“Oh Dendro Archon, she is so adorable,” you coo in awe. “Look how big your things are on her!”

“She demanded I take a break and sit with her,” the Scribe hums, putting the food on the table and then locking both of his arms around you in an embrace. “But the more she was reading to me while sitting at my side, the sleepier she was getting, so we decided to nap.”

You listen to him, while observing your precious girl. She seems serene and content, holding onto the gold-embroidered piece of fabric, surely containing her father’s soothing scent. The earpieces are adjusted to hold onto her head and in silence you can even catch the faintest sounds of a melody. Ah, if only you had a Kamera with you…

“Let’s get her her own earpieces and cape.”

“The cape is unnecessary, but I did consider the device. I could make her her own, especially since she’s been complaining about having hard times to concentrate while she is at the Akademiya.” “But with the cape she’d be just like you!”

“Am I alone not enough for you already?” Light turquoise eyes are hard to read, but you manage to catch a shadow of amusement.

“But matching outfits are charming! Like, remember the last time we’ve been to Kaveh’s? The whole family had matching robes!”

“Then you’ll have to dress like me too.”

“If I am to get an intricate cape and a device to block the sounds of you huffing - I don’t mind.”

Alhaitham huffs. Then stops, realizing he’s just done what you were accusing him of, and you can’t help but laugh.

��Kidding, kidding. Let’s discuss it over lunch. Can you wake her while I am setting the table?”

Your husband nods and, receiving a quick peck to his cheek, releases you from his hold, stepping closer to the sofa.

As you busy yourself with the food, you occasionally glance at the two from the corner of your eye, absolutely swooning over how gently Alhaitham takes the earpieces off, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, softly murmurs her name and coaxes her from sleep with the news that mommy came and brought delicious food with her. And when two sets of identical eyes look at you tenderly, a loving smile lights up your face.

Kaveh

Can you see this man sticking his finger in Alhaitham's direction and declaring that his kid is going to be senior to his friend's? Because I can. (Too bad he was wrong).

As well as I can see this man accidentally becoming supportive not only of you but the other man's family as well - and drawing the blueprints for both nurseries is probably only the beginning (but you were the only one whose every suggestion he took without arguing).

From day one his mind is set on being the best dad for your baby, just like he is the best husband to you. He reads books, seeks advice in Bimarstan, even writes letters to his mother in hopes she'll share her experience, that could help you. Though when it comes to shopping for your yet unborn baby, you have to physically restrain him from buying every single cute plushie or onesie he sees.

When your daughter is born though, it's getting harder, because your own desire to spoil this golden-haired angel is unmeasurable. Maybe it's because she looks so much like your husband and you are projecting your need to shower him in love and affection and give everything you possibly can, but by the end of the day you just simply love her very much.

Kaveh adores doing anything creative with his daughter. She wants a mosaic in a frame on her wall? They'll put it from the little tiles together and Kaveh would hold her in his arms so she could hang it. She wants a dollhouse? They'll spend the time drawing the draft and picking colors and materials for EVERYTHING. And then he'll be building it, while she crafts little furniture. And it doesn't matter if she did it too small or too big - papa will help her adjust it.

But even so, Kaveh doesn't expect his daughter to be some genius or follow in his steps. No, he knows he'll love her even if she stops sharing the creative approach with him. He knows better than anyone how crushing it is to have everyone's expectations to loom over you and predatory gazes watch tirelessly, anticipating the moment you fail. He gives a vow to himself, to you, to your girl, that he will be there no matter what.

Matching. Outfits. You own so many it's almost worrisome. But your daughter loves them. There were a couple occasions when she drew her own designs for the three of you and you had it tailored, which left her absolutely ecstatic.

On that note, you believe Kaveh's (tiny) fear that she'll lose interest in creativity is going to be short-lived - especially after your visit to Fontaine to let your daughter meet her granny, which the girl spent with wide open eyes and mouth, absorbing everything around her to use it later.

Also having your daughter earned you a heavy supporter in moments when Kaveh starts to overwork. He can't resist the charm of both of his girls and is easily swayed to the nearest sofa/bed to cuddle and share lots of kisses. All his life he has been the anchor for others - now he has two people to be that for him.

Kaveh is easily spooked by sudden noises, and your eleven-year old daughter knows that. That's why she makes sure to tap her feet loud enough to hear their approach through the door of his study. Balancing a small tray with a cup of tea and your special dessert in one hand, she lifts the other to gently knock on the door.

"Come in, baby!" Reaching higher she pulls the handle.

The floor littered with crumpled papers isn't a new sight to her, just as her father's hunched back over the properly lit table. But when the door closes, the architect immediately puts the pencil down and turns around, giving her a big smile.

"Hi, sweety," he is beaming, seeing her adorable face and a growing smile, complementing those precious twinkles in her eyes.

"Hi, papa!" She chirps like a little birdie - her actual nickname - and Kaveh nearly drops his head in his palms and cries. How can he be a father to someone so tender?

"Mama said you are working and made you something! I helped," she lifts the tray, showing him what she has. "We hope you will like it."

Oh, he definitely will, he doesn't doubt it. Carefully wrapping his fingers around the edges, the man takes his late afternoon snack and brings it closer to his face, inhaling the sweet smell of the desert and a soothing aroma of the tea.

"Thank you, little birdie," he puts the tray aside and bends lower to wrap his arms around her and smooch her cheek. "You and mama are the best."

"Hehe, we know," she giggles. "You are the best too."

"Awww," Kaveh can't help but nuzzle against her cheek, gaining another giggle and a cute scrunch of her nose.

"Daaaaaaaad!"

"Sorry, sorry, baby, you are just so adorable. Just like your mama."

"But mama says I am pretty like you."

"Both can work together," he assures her, but a soft blush covers his cheeks. No matter how many years have passed, he still gets shy whenever his wife uses "pretty" to describe him.

"Okay!" She simply agrees, giving him a big hug. "Sorry, but I should be going now. Mama wants to go grocery shopping and I want to help her."

Now that she says this, Kaveh pays closer attention to her outfit - the white sundress with pink roses is definitely not something she'll wear at home.

"Alright then, let me escort you downstairs."

Standing up, he easily hoists her in his arms and lets her perch on his left one, as her arms wrap around his neck.

When they reach the hall, the girl has managed to make two braids in his hair, now twisting them around each other. Kaveh finds both her and your obsession with touching his hair amusing, but sometimes it feels nice and relaxing. And you did put him to sleep by scratching his head on multiple occasions.

You, who are standing in front of the mirror, and even witnessing just your profile, the architect is in love all over again.

He should take you on a date later this week.

"Well, I definitely wouldn't mind that," you chuckle, turning to face him and offering your most teasing smile. Ah, he said the date part out loud, didn't he? "But right now I need to go and take care of our dinner's ingredients."

Your husband nods in understanding and puts your daughter down, dusting the skirt of her dress and making sure everything is intact. Getting a quick peck on the nose, he gives her one on the forehead and straightens up to immediately welcome you into his embrace and share a soft kiss.

“Be sure to take a break and enjoy the snack we made for you. And I mean it when I say taking a break. We all remember how you spilled your morning coffee over the blueprint and had to redraw everything again. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

A wild shiver runs down Kaveh’s spine and he feverishly shakes his head. No, if there is one thing he is certain in it’s hating the repetition of this.

“You don’t have to remind me,” his heavy sigh ghosts over your skin. “And it won’t happen again.”

“I believe in you!” You cheer joyfully and it warms his heart.

“I believe in papa too!” Your daughter throws her fists in the air. “Papa can do anything!”

“Of course he can,” you gently nudge her back, ushering her to the front door. “See you soon, Kaveh. We love you.”

“I love you too.”

Waving at your leaving figures he waits until you shut the door and stick the key in the lock, before smiling to himself and returning to his study.

The tea got a little cold and the dessert’s top melted just a tiny bit, but both are still incredibly delicious. Leaning back in an armchair with a plate resting on his knee and a cup wrapped in his hands, the man feels happily at ease and two precious girls are the reason why.

Tighnari

Frankly, I don't think Tighnari has ever given much thought to becoming a dad, let alone settling down with someone. But taking care of Collei, becoming her mentor, stepping so close to becoming a parental figure, probably played its role as well.

Biggest part, of course, was you - another pretty fennec hybrid, who, due to the same biological background, could share a lot of things with him that the man couldn't and honestly didn't want to bother explaining to others, he sure has other things to fulfill.

It took years of courting from both sides, but eventually, you two settled down together, content with each other as a partner. When the talk of kids happened, the forest ranger was hesitant - he knows he can handle a kid, he can handle ten if required thanks to his immense patience and love for teaching, but since you were different from humans, the man was aware that you could be carrying more than three babies at one time. Even if your body is built to handle it by evolution, he still didn't want to make you go through with so much. Initially. However when you looked so hopeful to have a family with your beloved, swore it's going to be just one time and then you'll keep using protection like before, he was convinced and actually quite excited.

So much nuzzling during your pregnancy. So much nuzzling when the babies are born - three beautiful boys and one girl, with the prettiest fluffy tails and ears of yours or his fur. He immediately jumped to being a father, without any complaint taking care of your kids, while you were recovering. He adores them so much, but at times hardly manages to keep an eye on all four - good thing you moved into a bigger house that is closer to the ground, because little explorers did try to escape outside on multiple occasions.

What gets Tighnari's heart burst like fireworks though? Spotting you napping with all of your babies huddled in your embrace, body practically curled around them and a tail resting on top. The first time it happened - maybe a couple of weeks after you gave birth to them - Tighnari left you alone with the kids to do an examination on the work of forest rangers in his absence, and when he returned back - he nearly collapsed from how adorable the five of you looked. Definitely joined.

From their early age he taught his kids everything about the forest so they would be prepared, and, even he won't ever admit it, it stirred something in his chest when they looked up at him with wonder and fascination in their gleaming eyes. They were also taught to be independent, but at the same time to work as a team, and they are so good at that.

The circle of four is absolutely perfect. Little hands are swift and precise, and the absolute concentration is written on the seven-year olds adorable faces. You and Tighnari even stopped your own grooming of each other’s tails to observe your kids’ routine of doing the same thing, but among themselves.

With four pillows on the floor they once again made themselves comfortable, just like every evening, equipped with different kinds of brushes and safe oils.

You put your chin onto Tighnari's shoulder, still holding his tail in your lap, with yours resting under his palm, and make a soft sound, loud enough for him to recognize and not alert the kids. Your husband nods, purring in response and rubbing his cheek against your temple.

"They are so adorable, 'nari," you sigh, watching the four being so absorbed with their task that they don't even talk. The male couldn't agree more, lifting the corners of his mouth in a smile and then picking another brush to get busy with the tip of your tail.

"They absolutely got it from you, my dear. And did you notice how much progress they've made in the fur-caring routine?"

Tighnari doesn't see that, but you, still staring forward at your kids, clearly see how four pairs of ears prick up. How cute, someone wants the praise.

"That they did. And I don't know about you, but at the age of 7 I didn't even know that the fur has to be clean and taken care of anyhow. I guess, I never gave it much thought when my mom did it for me. Our little ones are so independent."

Four tails move a little, kids clearly delighted.

"You are right, they are," Tighnari hums, running his fingers through your now well-groomed fur, and your children hold their chins up proudly. "If only this independence didn't extend to trying to escape to the forest on their own against all of my warnings."

Inhumane eyes glare at the frozen bodies of the "explorers" in question, making them lower their gaze and pick up from where they stopped their routine. Oh, they know what they've done.

You can only sigh, fully understanding your husband's concerns, and finish tending to his tail.

Next is the balm you generously scoop onto your palm to rub into the rough texture of your fox-like pads. When you do the same for Tighnari, receiving a tender kiss to your nose, and then to each of your babies, as they walk to you one by one, still with guilty, pouty, but adorable faces, while your husband is putting away all the tools and products.

Soon your bed is occupied with all of your kids, snuggling to your sitting body and drowsily asking to sleep with you two tonight. Even the thought of making a dozen more steps to their own rooms is killing the last energy in them - the routine has an incredible side effect: they immediately become sleepy when they are done and you don't have much trouble with putting them to bed.

Especially when the bed is right here. The bed that became a large one not even a couple of months along their lives, because this has been a common occurrence.

"Mommy, daddy, can we sleep with you tonight, please?" Your daughter lifts her pleading eyes at you, being the one who managed to directly slide into your lap and into your embrace. Three boys, attached to your sides silently lift their eyes too, pouting in attempts to break your resolve. Which wasn't here in the first place.

"What'd you say, 'nari?" Chuckling, you look at your husband climbing onto the bed to join the five of you.

"Weren't we just discussing their independence? They can surely walk to their rooms. Come on, babies, back to your beds."

"Noooooooooo," their hold on you immediately becomes a death grip. "We want to stay with you!"

"Kids, I can't breathe-" you gasp from the crushing hug of at least two pairs of arms squeezing your middle.

"We want to stay, we want to stay, we want to stay!"

"That's what you should've told yourselves earlier this morning when you decided to get to the river with spinocrocodiles. That you want to stay. Home. Until I or your mother could go on a walk with you outside the village."

At his strict tone and at the reminder of them nearly losing their tails this morning to the sharp jaws of wild animals, four little foxes lower their eyes, ashamed. But they do relax their hold around you.

Tighnari sighs, rubbing his temples and contemplating when he's going to get his first gray hairs.

"Okay, I'll let you sleep with us tonight, BUT," he slightly raises his voice to emphasize, especially since the four immediately got in high spirits, "if something like this happens again - you are losing this privilege for a week. Are we clear?"

"Yes, daddy…"

"Yeah.."

"Mhm…"

"Sure, dad…"

And that's the only confirmation Tighnari needs before lifting the covers, because no matter how restless and disastrous your children can be - he has almost as hard a time as you do telling them "no".

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #ayato x fem!reader #thoma x reader #thoma x fem!reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x fem!reader #kaveh x reader #kaveh x fem!reader #tighnari x reader #tighnari x fem!reader #kamisato ayato #thoma #alhaitham #kaveh #tighnari #genshin impact fluff

3K notes · View notes