#this ask is very old but i still think about it
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✎ the babysitters' club
- gojo satoru x reader
in which yuji, megumi and nobara are tasked with the most important mission ever by their teacher—watching over his baby son!
genre:
total crack, first years are trying their best to babysit your son to save their grades, an attempt at humor, gojo is irritating as always, fluff, fluff, fluff
note:
this is sooo incredibly silly :') some inspiration are taken from the baby starfish onesie, this ask, and this illustration -> if you're wondering how gojo dressed his baby, he's looks just like that :)) tagging @3zae-zae3 <3
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
"Gojo-sensei... what is that wiggling starfish!?"
On one sunny day in jujutsu school... trouble is once again brewing in the form of Gojo Satoru bringing his baby son to the class.
"Starfish? No, no," Gojo retorted with a displeased expression, directing his gaze towards Yuji and clicking his tongue as he patted his squirming baby, which was still hidden from their view. "He's my pride and joy! Don't refer to him as starfish!"
"But you've got him dressed up as one..." Nobara pointed out, her tone flat and unimpressed.
"That's his kid," Megumi provided, wearily sighing. God, he knew already today was going to be a long day.
No one from school had seen your seven-month old baby son yet, and Gojo was determined to make it an occasion to remember.
Beaming with pride, he gently removed his baby from the starfish-themed onesie, revealing him in a tiny black jujutsu outfit specially tailored for him, complete with miniature black glasses. He held him up, presenting him for everyone to see.
"Behold, everyone... my son! Isn't he just adorable?!"
. . . a momentary silence before—
"Oh my goodness, he is!" Nobara cooed, forgetting her earlier sentiment, immediately approaching the baby with shining eyes. "Sensei, how could you manage to have a baby this cute!?"
"Heh! Only the finest technique utilized to create him—"
"Complete bullshit—"
"Hush, Megumi! No cussing in front of my baby! I'll deduct your marks!"
"Seriously...?"
"Now, class, today I have a very, very important task for you..." Gojo said, his voice dripping with mischief as he sported a broad grin. "If you succeed, I'll personally draft a recommendation letter for each of you to Yaga. But if you don't..." he paused for the suspense, scanning his three students' curious faces.
"Then I'm failing you in my class!" Gojo continued with a grin, prompting immediate reactions from his students.
“What! Why?!”
“That's not fair!”
“Sigh.”
“All you have to do was to watch over him until I come back. Everything you need is here— in this bag!”
Megumi rolled his eyes. Nobara raised an eyebrow. Only Yuji who seemed to be genuinely interested.
"Isn't that easy?" Gojo tilted his head playfully, looking absolutely stupid with his blindfold. "There are three of you here. If you can't even manage to look after one baby, then you should not even think about romance and dating."
"Nonsen—"
"Quiet, Megumi!"
And so began the day's mission: looking after Baby Gojo until his father's return.
“Lalala~ look you’re flying!”
“Fwa...”
“Kugisaki, don’t hold him like that! You’re making him cry!”
“No, I’m not— Itadori! Don’t smush his face—!”
“WAAA!”
“You idiot!” Megumi hissed, plucking the poor baby from his clueless friends and immediately soothed him, pulling him close and patting his back. He even gently shushed him, “There, there...”
And Yuji and Nobara could only look at him in awe as the baby's wails turned into soft sniffles, peaceful in his embrace.
"Whoa... Fushiguro, so babies like you, huh..."
"Unfair!" Nobara clicked his tongue, before fixing a wide smile and waved at the baby in Megumi's arms. "Hi baby~ don't you want to held by big sister—"
"He doesn't like you, Kugisaki."
And so, that was how the three of them spent half the day—constantly watching over Baby Gojo, with Megumi supervising both the baby and his two friends.
"Sometimes, I wonder what she sees in him..." Megumi grumbled sullenly, resigned to his fate, his gaze fixed on the crawling baby while he sat on the floor and threw his little sunglasses.
For all the sighs he exuded, Megumi undeniably had a soft spot for the baby. Prior today, he had held him several times, and he'd never admit it, but he'd protect him to the best of his ability, if anything, because you had done so much for him.
“Gojo-sensei is cool!” Yuji remarked. “Of course Y/N-sensei is happy with him.”
Nobara rolled her eyes. “Only you would say that.”
"Hey, don't you think he wants his milk?" Yuji suddenly pointed out, as the baby became fussy. Megumi nodded and Yuji immediately reached for the bag Gojo left. He pulled out a bottle and handed it to his friend, but in the process, he accidentally knocked the bag over, spilling its contents onto the floor.
"Ahh, my bad," the boy sighed, collecting the diapers and washcloth, until he realized that there were some more—
"What's that? Photographs?" Nobara picked one of them up, and immediately gasped. "Oh my! Look at this!"
On the picture was the same baby, but much more smaller and swaddled in baby blue blanket and tiny blue beanie. Most likely taken when he was a newborn.
"Whoa, wait, there's something written behind the photo..."
When she flipped it over, both she and Yuji studied the messy handwriting, instantly recognizing it as their teacher's.
Yaaay! ♡ Baby is here! I'm sooo happy you made it!
But mama went through a lot to bring you here... so don't ever forget that she loves you very, very much, okay?
"This is sweet." Nobara looked at the picture with a genuine smile, until she realized that there were some more scattered on the floor.
The other picture was of the blue-eyed baby on his arms and knees, wrapped in an orange and black bee onesie, complete with little wings, and behind it was written:
Aren't you just the cutest bee?! And what's more, you've started crawling! Aw, papa is so proud! In no time at all, you're going to be as strong as me!
"What are you two doing over there?" Megumi asked, still feeding the baby with the milk bottle. Nobara beckoned him over.
The third photo was of you smiling so prettily while holding your baby, still in his bee suit, and Gojo also in the frame, wrapping his arm around you, clearly the one holding the camera to take the selfie.
Two my most precious treasures ♡
Sweetheart, I love you.
And baby too!
Yuji smiled, as he felt warmth spreading in his chest. "Gojo-sensei really treasures his family, huh?"
"He is," Megumi agreed, because he had seen it all throughout his life.
"Well, no wonder..." Nobara giggled. "Any woman showered with this much love would be happy."
And that day, the trio also uncovered another side of their teacher, that his deepest affection was reserved exclusively for his wife and child.
Well, the sentimental feeling didn't last long though...
"This is our chance!" Nobara said in a hushed whisper. "When else are we going to get an extra family discount!?"
Megumi was so ready to burst a blood vessel as he held the baby—given that he had forbidden his two friends to lay a finger on him. "We are meeting Gojo-sensei here, not to—!"
"Hush! Itadori, don't you agree with me?!"
Yuji nudged his cross friend, trying to appease him. "Lighten up, Fushiguro! We can have more meat!"
At the last minute, Gojo suddenly told the three of them to bring his baby and meet him at the shopping center as he didn't want to waste energy to go back to the school. And like broke students Nobara and Yuji were, they decided to use Baby Gojo to snag an extra plate in a yakiniku place.
Megumi's eyes twitched. "This is not making sense at all, they won't believe—!"
"Shut up, you! Waiter~ here! We have a baby! So we're eligible for the family package!"
The judging stare of the waiter was enough to make Megumi combust on the spot, and yet somehow he passed the four of them as family eligible for the extra plate.
It was later, after they had their lunch that Megumi suddenly had an upset stomach and left the baby momentarily in his two friends' care.
And under less-than-watchful eyes...
"Hey, Kugisaki, meat on this side is the juiciest! Try it!"
"Ooh, you're right!"
The baby only blinked at them in wonder as he stayed in his spot. Not for long though... and it didn't help that they forgot his existence after they went to the cashier and headed out.
"Oi, Itadori! Don't forget to split the bill!"
"Oh yeah! Anyway, why is Fushiguro taking so long?"
Megumi got back right afterwards, and he frowned. "You done already? I haven't even gotten my ocha refill—" and it dawned to him when he saw both Yuji and Nobara with empty hands.
"Wait... where's the baby?"
"—! Oh my god!"
And when the three of them rushed back to the yakiniku place and approached their table earlier, Nobara almost screamed at the empty chairs, "He is gone!"
"You left the baby with the kids and told them to come here?!"
You were positively fuming as you scolded your stupid husband in the bustling mall.
"Well, we haven't gotten much time to spend together, just the two of us!" Satoru retorted, his tone sulky as he pouted. "And besides, Megumi is there. I'm sure they'll do just fine~"
You let out a sigh. True enough, being parents is no joke. Aside from stay-at-home dates, the frequency of the two of you going out had dwindled exponentially since having your baby.
"Technically, you are still on the clock though." You threw him a glare. "You're being a very irresponsible teacher."
Satoru smirked. "Heh, spare me. But I'm being a very good teacher to you in our—"
"One more word and I'm locking you out—!"
Just as you were about to give him your (empty) threat, the building suddenly boomed with an announcement from the mall's broadcast speaker.
"Attention, shoppers. We've received a report from three teenagers that they've lost a baby. He is seven-month old, wears black shirt, has white hair and blue eyes. He is last seen at Yakiniku Q—"
"Satoru..." your voice trembled, dread settling in the pit of your stomach. The baby described by the speaker was unmistakably your son, and the realization of him being missing sent you spiraling into panic.
"Hey, calm down." Satoru gripped your hand tightly, his voice steady as he faced you. "We're going to find him, alright? I'm here. Don't worry."
And after taking off his glasses, in a matter of seconds, Satoru figured out where he was.
Nobara's eyes welled up with tears, frustrated. "What do I do, Gojo-sensei will fail us now..." she muttered, biting her lip.
"That's what you're worried about?" Megumi replied, turning to her with a clear glare.
"He's going to be fine! He is!" Yuji interjected, trying to reassure his two friends despite his own rising anxiety. "He’s not just any random baby—who knows, maybe he can shoot cursed energy to protect himself!"
Megumi and Nobara leveled their annoyed stares on him and Yuji immediately regretted his attempt to lighten the mood.
"I still think he can't get far from the yakiniku place." Megumi was too panicked to check with the staff earlier and just went with Yuji's suggestion to report it to be announced, but now that he thought about it— "I think we should go back."
And thank goodness the three of them returned for the second time because, this time, they finally saw the baby safely cradled in your arms, with Gojo speaking to the waitresses nearby.
"Oh?! Gojo-sensei is here!"
But as soon as the three of them came into view, Gojo immediately fixed them with his unamused gaze.
"You three..." his voice was lower and it made the three kids shudder. "What did I tell you about failing this mission, huh?"
Yuji, Nobara and Megumi were visibly spooked, immediately bowing their heads in unison as they chorused—
"Gojo-sensei, we're so sorry!"
Nobara then pointed an accusing finger at Yuji. "But it was his fault! He kept eating away and didn't even oversee the baby anymore!"
"Wha!?" Yuji glared back at her. "No! You too! You kept eating my meat too!"
"Whatever it is, I'm not a part of this—" Megumi cut in boldly. "My stomach hurt so I had to go for a bit, and they couldn't even keep an eye on him—"
You soothed your squirming son as the first years were throwing blame at each other. Gaping in confusion, you couldn't help but wonder how such a simple task had turned into this incident.
"Tsk." Gojo crossed his arms dramatically, and you knew he was just messing with them, as he suddenly turned to you with a grin.
"Nah, as both a teacher and the victim's mother— Sensei~ who do you think is responsible for this? Or should I punish all three of them?"
The three kids before you were quaking in their boots, and you really didn't have time for this right now. Honestly, if if you had to quickly pinpoint the source of this chaos...
You directed your most irked glare at your husband. "You."
“Huh?!”
“You’re the one staging this by threatening their grades, and it results in our baby being missing!”
Now you were bickering with your husband and putting him in his rightful place. Nobara and Yuji gaped, while Megumi heaved a sigh of relief.
"Does this mean... our grades are saved?"
Epilogue
"They said he fell..." You pat your baby's head worriedly as he babbled happily in his crib, your expression darkening into a frown.
You didn't really blame the first years for their lack of experience, but as his mother, the news from the restaurant staff that they had found your son falling from the chair made you extremely uneasy.
Seeing your distress, Satoru’s natural response was to comfort you until you were back to smiles again. He gently tickled his boy's tummy, prompting him to squeal in absolute joy. "Look, he's perfectly fine. You don't need to worry so much, yeah?"
"But it's strange... I'm happy he's fine, but how? Most babies will get hurt or at least be inconsolable after falling. But he was totally okay..."
Satoru shifted his gaze to his son, as now his round, crystal blue eyes that mirrored his blinked back at him with such innocence and trust that even melted his heart.
"Ah, I see." Suddenly he smiled as if he had figured something out. "This is just my guess, but you know my guesses have like... 90% of probability of being correct—"
"Hmm...?"
"He might have activated Infinity by instinct. Heh."
#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen#jjk imagines#jjk x you#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru#satoru gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#gojo x you#gojo#gojo fluff#gojo satoru imagines#jjk fluff#gojo satoru fluff#dad!gojo#satoru gojo fluff#jjk gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jutusu kaisen x reader#satoru x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo
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hiiii
okay so this is completely random but i saw this thing about how female octopuses throw seashells at male octopuses that bother them and it just made me immediately think of monster!konig and his wife who constantly tries (and fails) to reject his advances
Being a mermaid in the same territory as the one that old eldritch horror hybrid has claimed is a very tough life. You can't even swim out of your enclosure, a small, cozy cave in the middle of nowhere, without his pawing at your body and trying to get his eggs inside of you. It's not even mating season, you think - but it's always mating season with him. Konig never had the chance to breed in the last 100 years, and so he is desperate. Enough to start snatching any compatible egg host without as much as asking their opinion.
He likes you, and is making it your problem. But, even the eldritch horror is a gentleman at heart - and he has three of those, actually. He allows you a couple weeks of gentle courting when he swims to your cave and tries to give you gifts while you collect garbage and sea shells to throw at him in a feeble attempt to tell him off. You're never successful, but you try your best. Yelling st him, punching him, throwing stuff at him - Konig still thinks it's a really nice mating strategy, as you show off your strengths to your future mate. He likes it. Really, really likes it.
You still resist when he is finally done being courteous and just snatches you down to his cave instead. It's dark and murky and you hate being here, but he pushes you down and keeps you there with his tentacles - there isn't a lot of options when you're pinned and held as strong as possible. You hate every second of it, but his affection is relentless. Dangerous. It's natural to submit to a strong mate, but you're still trying to resist, and it makes him laugh. Such a strong little mermaid, still trying to say you're independent and strong. Adorable, he thinks.
You're even cuter when he finally pushes you down and feels you to the brim with his eggs. Your resistance is adorable as you scream and moan, not able to push him away. God, you're too good for him. He makes sure that you know this as well.
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How can you consider yourself any sort of leftist when you defend AI art bullshit? You literally simp for AI techbros and have the gall to pretend you're against big corporations?? Get fucked
I don't "defend" AI art. I think a particular old post of mine that a lot of people tend to read in bad faith must be making the rounds again lmao.
Took me a good while to reply to this because you know what? I decided to make something positive out of this and use this as an opportunity to outline what I ACTUALLY believe about AI art. If anyone seeing this decides to read it in good or bad faith... Welp, your choice I guess.
I have several criticisms of the way the proliferation of AI art generators and LLMs is making a lot of things worse. Some of these are things I have voiced in the past, some of these are things I haven't until now:
Most image and text AI generators are fine-tuned to produce nothing but the most agreeable, generically pretty content slop, pretty much immediately squandering their potential to be used as genuinely interesting artistic tools with anything to offer in terms of a unique aesthetic experience (AI video still manages to look bizarre and interesting but it's getting there too)
In the entertainment industry and a lot of other fields, AI image generation is getting incorporated into production pipelines in ways that lead to the immiseration of working artists, being used to justify either lower wages or straight-up layoffs, and this is something that needs to be fought against. That's why I unconditionally supported the SAG-AFTRA strikes last year and will unconditionally support any collective action to address AI art as a concrete labor issue
In most fields where it's being integrated, AI art is vastly inferior to human artists in any use case where you need anything other than to make a superficially pretty picture really fast. If you need to do anything like ask for revisions or minor corrections, give very specific descriptions of how objects and people are interacting with each other, or just like. generate several pictures of the same thing and have them stay consistent with each other, you NEED human artists and it's preposterous to think they can be replaced by AI.
There is a lot of art of the internet that consists of the most generically pretty, cookie-cutter anime waifu-adjacent slop that has zero artistic or emotional value to either the people seeing it or the person churning it out, and while this certainly was A Thing before the advent of AI art generators, generative AI has made it extremely easy to become the kind of person who churns it out and floods online art spaces with it.
Similarly, LLMs make it extremely easy to generate massive volumes of texts, pages, articles, listicles and what have you that are generic vapid SEO-friendly pap at best and bizzarre nonsense misinformation at worst, drowning useful information in a sea of vapid noise and rendering internet searches increasingly useless.
The way LLMs are being incorporated into customer service and similar services not only, again, encourages further immiseration of customer service workers, but it's also completely useless for most customers.
A very annoyingly vocal part the population of AI art enthusiasts, fanatics and promoters do tend to talk about it in a way that directly or indirectly demeans the merit and skill of human artists and implies that they think of anyone who sees anything worthwile in the process of creation itself rather than the end product as stupid or deluded.
So you can probably tell by now that I don't hold AI art or writing in very high regard. However (and here's the part that'll get me called an AI techbro, or get people telling me that I'm just jealous of REAL artists because I lack the drive to create art of my own, or whatever else) I do have some criticisms of the way people have been responding to it, and have voiced such criticisms in the past.
I think a lot of the opposition to AI art has critstallized around unexamined gut reactions, whipping up a moral panic, and pressure to outwardly display an acceptable level of disdain for it. And in particular I think this climate has made a lot of people very prone to either uncritically entertain and adopt regressive ideas about Intellectual Propety, OR reveal previously held regressive ideas about Intellectual Property that are now suddenly more socially acceptable to express:
(I wanna preface this section by stating that I'm a staunch intellectual property abolitionist for the same reason I'm a private property abolitionist. If you think the existence of intellectual property is a good thing, a lot of my ideas about a lot of stuff are gonna be unpalatable to you. Not much I can do about it.)
A lot of people are suddenly throwing their support behind any proposal that promises stricter copyright regulations to combat AI art, when a lot of these also have the potential to severely udnermine fair use laws and fuck over a lot of independent artist for the benefit of big companies.
It was very worrying to see a lot of fanfic authors in particular clap for the George R R Martin OpenAI lawsuit because well... a lot of them don't realize that fanfic is a hobby that's in a position that's VERY legally precarious at best, that legally speaking using someone else's characters in your fanfic is a much of a violation of copyright law as stright up stealing entire passages, and that any regulation that can be used against the latter can be extended against the former.
Similarly, a lot of artists were cheering for the lawsuit against AI art models trained to mimic the style of specific artists. Which I agree is an extremely scummy thinbg to do (just like a human artist making a living from ripping off someone else's work is also extremely scummy), but I don't think every scummy act necessarily needs to be punishable by law, and some of them would in fact leave people worse off if they were. All this to say: If you are an artist, and ESPECIALLY a fan artist, trust me. You DON'T wanna live in a world where there's precedent for people's artstyles to be considered intellectual property in any legally enforceable way. I know you wanna hurt AI art people but this is one avenue that's not worth it.
Especially worrying to me as an indie musician has been to see people mention the strict copyright laws of the music industry as a positive thing that they wanna emulate. "this would never happen in the music industry because they value their artists copyright" idk maybe this is a the grass is greener type of situation but I'm telling you, you DON'T wanna live in a world where copyright law in the visual arts world works the way it does in the music industry. It's not worth it.
I've seen at least one person compare AI art model training to music sampling and say "there's a reason why they cracked down on sampling" as if the death of sampling due to stricter copyright laws was a good thing and not literally one of the worst things to happen in the history of music which nearly destroyed several primarily black music genres. Of course this is anecdotal because it's just One Guy I Saw Once, but you can see what I mean about how uncritical support for copyright law as a tool against AI can lead people to adopt increasingly regressive ideas about copyright.
Similarly, I've seen at least one person go "you know what? Collages should be considered art theft too, fuck you" over an argument where someone else compared AI art to collages. Again, same point as above.
Similarly, I take issue with the way a lot of people seem EXTREMELY personally invested in proving AI art is Not Real Art. I not only find this discussion unproductive, but also similarly dangerously prone to validating very reactionary ideas about The Nature Of Art that shouldn't really be entertained. Also it's a discussion rife with intellectual dishonesty and unevenly applied definition as standards.
When a lot of people present the argument of AI art not being art because the definition of art is this and that, they try to pretend that this is the definition of art the've always operated under and believed in, even when a lot of the time it's blatantly obvious that they're constructing their definition on the spot and deliberately trying to do so in such a way that it doesn't include AI art.
They never succeed at it, btw. I've seen several dozen different "AI art isn't art because art is [definition]". I've seen exactly zero of those where trying to seriously apply that definition in any context outside of trying to prove AI art isn't art doesn't end up in it accidentally excluding one or more non-AI artforms, usually reflecting the author's blindspots with regard to the different forms of artistic expression.
(However, this is moot because, again, these are rarely definitions that these people actually believe in or adhere to outside of trying to win "Is AI art real art?" discussions.)
Especially worrying when the definition they construct is built around stuff like Effort or Skill or Dedication or The Divine Human Spirit. You would not be happy about the kinds of art that have traditionally been excluded from Real Art using similar definitions.
Seriously when everyone was celebrating that the Catholic Church came out to say AI art isn't real art and sharing it as if it was validating and not Extremely Worrying that the arguments they'd been using against AI art sounded nearly identical to things TradCaths believe I was like. Well alright :T You can make all the "I never thought I'd die fighting side by side with a catholic" legolas and gimli memes you want, but it won't change the fact that the argument being made by the catholic church was a profoundly conservative one and nearly identical to arguments used to dismiss the artistic merit of certain forms of "degenerate" art and everyone was just uncritically sharing it, completely unconcerned with what kind of worldview they were lending validity to by sharing it.
Remember when the discourse about the Gay Sex cats pic was going on? One of the things I remember the most from that time was when someone went "Tell me a definition of art that excludes this picture without also excluding Fountain by Duchamp" and how just. Literally no one was able to do it. A LOT of people tried to argue some variation of "Well, Fountain is art and this image isn't because what turns fountain into art is Intent. Duchamp's choice to show a urinal at an art gallery as if it was art confers it an element of artistic intent that this image lacks" when like. Didn't by that same logic OP's choice to post the image on tumblr as if it was art also confer it artistic intent in the same way? Didn't that argument actually kinda end up accidentally validating the artistic status of every piece of AI art ever posted on social media? That moment it clicked for me that a lot of these definitions require applying certain concepts extremely selectively in order to make sense for the people using them.
A lot of people also try to argue it isn't Real Art based on the fact that most AI art is vapid but like. If being vapid definitionally excludes something from being art you're going to have to exclude a whooole lot of stuff along with it. AI art is vapid. A lot of art is too, I don't think this argument works either.
Like, look, I'm not really invested in trying to argue in favor of The Artistic Merits of AI art but I also find it extremely hard to ignore how trying to categorically define AI art as Not Real Art not only is unproductive but also requires either a) applying certain parts of your definition of art extremely selectively, b) constructing a definition of art so convoluted and full of weird caveats as to be functionally useless, or c) validating extremely reactionary conservative ideas about what Real Art is.
Some stray thoughts that don't fit any of the above sections.
I've occassionally seen people respond to AI art being used for shitposts like "A lot of people have affordable commissions, you could have paid someone like $30 to draw this for you instead of using the plagiarism algorithm and exploiting the work of real artists" and sorry but if you consider paying an artist a rate that amounts to like $5 for several hours of work a LESS exploitative alternative I think you've got something fucked up going on with your priorities.
Also it's kinda funny when people comment on the aforementioned shitposts with some variation of "see, the usage of AI art robs it of all humor because the thing that makes shitposts funny is when you consider the fact that someone would spend so much time and effort in something so stupid" because like. Yeah that is part of the humor SOMETIMES but also people share and laugh at low effort shitposts all the time. Again you're constructing a definition that you don't actually believe in anywhere outside of this type of conversations. Just say you don't like that it's AI art because you think it's morally wrong and stop being disingenuous.
So yeah, this is pretty much everything I believe about the topic.
I don't "defend" AI art, but my opposition to it is firmly rooted in my principles, and that means I refuse to uncritically accept any anti-AI art argument that goes against those same principles.
If you think not accepting and parroting every Anti-AI art argument I encounter because some of them are ideologically rooted in things I disagree with makes me indistinguishable from "AI techbros" you're working under a fucked up dichotomy.
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Dehya + Arlecchino Forgotten!Creator AU
A proper response to @ninjacomix sorry for the wait!
Dehya
You woke up in the deserts of Sumeru when you first arrived in Teyvat, so it’s no surprise that the first people you met were Eremites
Unlike the Traveler, you are not immediately attacked- half because of your divinity subtly making them more docile, and half because you’re covered in sand and dressed in foreign clothes and practically melting under the sun- and yeah, you look too pathetic to rob
They end up taking you back to Aaru Village, and that’s where you end up meeting Dehya.
Well, technically you meet Dehya the day after you arrive, when you rush outside during a sandstorm and spot her fighting monsters
It’s a bit surreal, watching an actual fight like this, and you’re frozen in awe
At least until you notice the Rifthound sneaking up on her
You’re panicking as you lunge forward, feeling something begin to expand inside you, and-
Everything is still
Both the storm and the Rifthounds are frozen in place, and Dehya is looking at you, extremely confused
“What is this?!?” “HOW SHOULD I KNOW?!?!” “YOU’RE THE ONE DOING IT!!!!”
Dehya dispatches the Rifthounds quickly, and the sandstorm resumes
And the next day, the both of you set out towards the Akademiya, wanting to figure out what your deal is
(You don’t realize that now the gods are remembering the creator, the Akademiya is Scrambling to find any and all information on you and why they forgot you)
During the journey the both of you grow close, and a few weeks in, the both of you wrapped in a blanket to protect from the chill of a desert night, you turn to her.
“Hey, let’s get married.”
And after choking on her water, she agrees to it
Congratulations! You have a wife!
The Creator, showing up hand in hand with an Eremite is not what an Akademiya scholar expected to see at four in the morning on a random day, but that is what he saw- and he thinks the subsequent panic is very understandable
Before you know it, you and your new wife are sitting in the acting grand sages office as Nahida uses some kind of Archon communication to page the other Archons
It takes about an hour for them to burst through the door
(In that time you’ve taught Alhaitham and Dehya how to play Rock Paper Scissors, Go Fish, Uno, and you’re in the middle of teaching them slapjack. Alhaithams hands are suspiciously red and Dehya is smirking)
They’re instantly fretting over you, apologizing for forgetting you and generally praising you, completely overwhelming until Dehya pulls you away
“Hey! Who are you supposed to be!” It’s Venti, disappointed that his god has been taken from him
“That’s my wife!” You state proudly.
And then everything clicks
“Wait, I’m a god?”
The room explodes in noise, but Dehya’s hand never leaves yours
Arlecchino
When it comes to Arlecchino, instead of taking you to Aaru Village, you ask them to take you to the border of Fontaine
You’ve only made it to the end of Sumeru in the Archon Quests- maybe if you head to Fontaine now, you’ll get to see the Archon Quest in person!
It’s only once you’ve taken the Aquabus to the Court of Fontaine that you realize you do not have a single mora on your person.
It’s after a day of exploring that you end up near the sea, and after being startled by a giant crab appearing from nowhere (It was Very Scary I promise) you end up tumbling into the water, you’re trapped under, and-
Wait… you can still breathe!
You light up with excitement, diving deeper, and that begins your life as a diver.
You end up becoming a collector, selling cool shells and oddities to anyone in the Court who’s willing to buy them (You’ve built up a pretty good rapport with the supply manager of Chiori’s Boutique)
It’s also underwater that you discover you’re the creator- finding an old abandoned temple with murals of a god that look just like you, helping you make sense of the power beneath your skin
But hey, if no one else was gonna bring it up, you wouldn’t either
And it’s underwater that you end up meeting your first Fatui member: Freminet
He was surprised when he first saw you swimming around- but now he’s grown pretty accustomed to you, and sometimes you guys even interact
Admittedly, sound doesn’t travel well underwater, so most of your communication is via charades, but the two of you end up growing close
Freminet shows you cool diving spots, you collect valuables from the ocean floor together, swim together in blissful silence, and play with all the friendly ocean animals you seem to attract
It only takes about a month for Freminet to begin mentally referring to you as mother (This boy is starved of a parental figure)
And after that it only takes a week before he slips up
He’s waiting in Father’s office, looking around as he waits for him to arrive
It’s pretty sparsely decorated- but there are a few ornaments still left around.
“Mother would like this…” Freminet muses, looking at a small model boat, delicate and intricately carved.
A flash of heat at his back. “… What did you just say?”
After a very long and frantic explanation, and a slightly shorter lecture on stranger danger, Arlecchino demands to meet you.
You first meet the harbinger after a day diving with Freminet, and he shoots you an apologetic look as you both surface to find a harbinger on the shore
And then you make eye contact
Your thoughts: That is a harbinger. From the Fatui. Huh. I’m going to pretend not to know that.
Arlecchino’s thoughts: That is the Creator that The Tsaritsa told me to look out for. They have the exact same appearance. I will pretend not to know that.
Arlecchino asks you to tea to get to know you better, and it devolves from there.
At your tea party, she introduces herself as a completely normal orphanage matron, and you’re polite enough to not point out that her brooch is a tiny Fatui emblem
You introduce yourself as a normal diver and she ignores the fact that your spoon has been stirring sugar into your tea without you even touching it
Your relationship continues in a similar fashion, with the both of you pretending to be a completely normal couple
After a few months, when both of you are getting married, you both ignore the oddities of your guests
“Ah, darling, the Fatui are here.” “Oh yes, they sponsor my orphanage, how polite of them to come.”
“Angel, Morax is here.” “Huh. Isn’t he supposed to be dead?” “Yes.” “Well, I’m glad he could make it.”
The both of you continue with intense purposeful ignorance
Venti: Your grace, do you really want to marry the harbinger? Is she threatening you?
You: What harbinger? I’m marrying a completely normal and totally average orphanage owner. So kind and generous she is.
Arlecchino, in the background, kicking Childe for trying to start a fight at her wedding, pausing to turn and wave: Hello.
Also Freminet is the flower girl
#genshin sagau#sagau#sagau genshin#sagau x reader#sagau forgotten!creator au#genshin impact sagau#sagau cult au#Sagau forgotten!creator au#sagau Dehya#Sagau Arlecchino#Sorry if my writing is inconsistent I won’t fix it#forgotten!creator au
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okay so it's been a bit... sorry about that??? ^-^; here's a quick doodle dump to make up for it with a brief (for me) explanation of where i've been at the end <3
some things that were meant as ask responses but i never felt like posting
scattered bits from a lore headcanon comic i have no plans of finishing... set when jax first joined and ragatha was still new, before shit happens (queenie abstracts) and things got worse for them...
idk i like thinking about the possibilities and i like it when characters start out hopeful and get it beaten out of them so i'm giving jax and ragatha that treatment in my head :)
here's the "behind the scenes" stuff i mentioned in the second of my raggedy ann tadc crossover posts
and here's me giving pomni varying levels of a hard time
old aggie board stuff
one of my first ragatha and pomni drawings on the left (nov 2023) and a lil redraw on the right.... (mar 2024) pls... don't mind my old ragatha design i didn't know what i was doing
and for those who like my sona, doodles inspired by the mafia roleplay/au(?) that's been around... not actually part of it, but i was part of a mafia roleplay myself back in 2020 so idk, consider it an acknowledgement of my roots :D
OKAY so where i've been... well at first it was a normal break, but then i figured i'd extend it until finals were over so i wouldn't get distracted! probably should've given some warning but ehhh i got busy fast and getting to go off grid for a bit was relaxing :)
anyway i'm all done so i'm back more or less??? still fatigued from studying for weeks straight so idk when i'll pick up the pen again but that'll be soon i hope...
and bc i drafted this before it was posted YES i've seen the episode 2 trailer!!! very cool i'm very excited!! gonna try and get ep 2 hype art out before it drops!! :D
#missed you silly people in my computer i hope you are well :)#the amazing digital circus#tadc#pomni#jax#queenie#kinger#ragatha#sona art#my art
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Wibta if I told my mom she loves a cat more than her own children.
I do feel like an asshole for this. I’m 17f and I have a younger sister 15F. My parents are married and for the most part good. When have a 12 year old cat that my mom just adores.
This part is all speculation, but when I very young like I was 5 or something my mom had an event that changed a lot. She stayed with her parents and would visits us. My grandparents would help out and no one really ever explained what happened to her but she lived there for like a year, she did move back in with us. My dad got her a cat to cope while she was away. The speculation is she had really bad post partum depression and had a break down. The reason I believe this/and this is my own theory, was when I was struggling mentally, my mom encouraged me to go to a therapist and they asked family history and she said she had struggled with depression/episodes and had tried medication but never stayed on. She just said when she was younger she had a hard time regulating emotions, and she wants me to worry about me and my own emotions. The post patrum comes from the fact that I asked my dad why did you two have kids and he admitted he wanted kids and my mom was more on the fence. I also find it weird she gets really nervous around Mother’s Day and will often try to not celebrate. (She always says she could be a better mom)
My mom is a good mom don’t get me wrong. She’s always encouraged my sister and I to try and do our hobbies. She’ll drive us where we gotta go. I know she works overtime when she wants to make sure we can do stuff for the family. It’s just sometimes, she seems more like a distant mom. She’ll listen to us, do anything asked, but idk how to put it into words.
But she really loves this cat. And I do love our cat too, but this cat and my mom are bonded. The second my mom comes home and the cat greets her and my mom picks her up and kisses her. She calls the cat her pretty princess and a hundred other nicknames. She calls me my dad and sister honey, bunny, and sunny. I know the cat actually makes my mom happy. Her eyes light up when she sees the cat. I know she looks forward to coming home to the cat. When we go on vacations she’ll miss the cat, or if she goes on a work trip she’ll always ask for pictures of the cat or ask to see the cat on FaceTime. She throws a small birthday party for the cat every year and makes a cake. For our birthdays she’ll ask what we want and sometimes she resorts to store bought desserts.
So this is where it gets bad. Our cat is now sick and probably has a year left to live. The vet told my mom she’s a good cat owner and has always done right for her, but with her age, treatment isn’t really the route because it’s not gonna prevent death, so just focus on making the cat happy and comfortable (this vet appointment was her 6 month check up.) My mom hasn’t been doing well mentally. She’s always struggled with mental health. She just seems to have a shakey mind at times if that makes sense. She very much before would hide her struggles, but we knew she’d have them. Before she would like stand still just gripping the counter with one hand. Now my mom is definetly depressed. She will come home be greeted by the cat, and go to her room and cry with the cat. She’s been just not happy.
My sister and I kinda decided to see if telling her we got good grades would cheer her up, and she’ll say good job and will sometimes offer to cook something or get something for us, but her eyes are just like very tired. (There is also an app she can use to check out grades but she never once used it and will just take our word face value) We’ve talked to my dad about this and he basically said that our mom has always loved animals (she use to work with her grandpa at a pet store he owned, but apparently her grandpa wasn’t a good person to most people in the family except her, so that was hard on her). I asked my dad what he thinks and says it’s normal for someone to be sad about this and that he’s gonna work hard or make sure we get all our needs handled. Which is nice, but I kinda wish it was my mom. I don’t feel dire need of anything, I’m just annoyed/jealous a cat can destroy my mom mentally.
My mom has gone over load for the cat. She cooks for her, makes her dinner buys the best food and mixes then. She often cries while cooking, and asks the cat if she likes the food.The cat doesn’t even know what’s happening.
I was looking at prom dresses online and asked my mom to look with me and she was just out of it. She would just say she’d like one or she’s not a fan but don’t let that discourage me. She’s just kinda lifeless. I try talking to her about it and she’ll aplogize and says she’ll get better. (It’s been like a week)
It boiled over when my mom’s sisters came over. (She’s the youngest. One sister has kids and one doesn’t) My mom tried to be happy and perky but ended up crying about the cat. Her sisters kinda said that she’s gotta be strong for her family and my mom just cried saying everything’s gonna be so much harder without the cat. I wasn’t in the room, they were in the basement, and there’s a vent where you can hear everything down there. My sister and I do easedrop to see what they say (her sisters are loud but we can never hear what my mom is saying without the vent. Normally we do it because my mom is a more different interesting person and again we don’t know our mom well. Away from us she kinda puts down the facade and actually talks). I was just angry. Her life isn’t hard. We’re middle class, if she wants to go to therepy she can afford it. We all deal with grief and loss. Yes I’m gonna be sad when our cat passes, but she is an older cat. I don’t imagine my life becoming “harder” other than my mom being depressed, but she is an adult who will heal from this.
After her sisters left and she was doing her night routine, I asked her if she loves the cat more than my sister and I. She said that’s not true and if she could do something more for my sister and I please name it. I told her that that’s the problem is that she does stuff for the cat without thinking, but for us it’s all asking us and she’s the adult she should know. She’s said she’s not a mind reader and she’s gonna rely on the information I give her to help me out where she can. I went to my room because ovbiosuly that conversation wasn’t going anywhere. I feel like my mom understands a cat more than her own daughter.
My dad came in a little while after and we talked. He assured me my mom loves me and this cat has been like an emotional support animal through the years. He mentioned my one friend who has an emotional support dog and compared them and told me that the cat has helped my mom emotionally with emotional regulation and just helps her steady herself. I asked if we were enough, or if my mom regrets having a family and she would just be happier if she just left us for the cat and lived by herself. My dad told me she loves all of us, but depression can be hard to navigate. I asked him about how he wanted us more than our mom and he just said that he was more excited, but my mom wouldn’t have had us unless she wanted us (which I don’t think is totally true.)
I went into my parents room and my mom was there with the cat. Again going to the cat for comfort. I told her I was sorry for saying she loved the cat more than us and she apologized for how her treatment towards the cat can seem that way and if I ever need anything please ask. It made me mad because she again is relying on me to know what’s wrong/ or ask, instead of her just idk taking initiative. I didn’t say that.
I get people can be mentally ill, but she’s also my mom. I do feel bad about telling my mom she loves a cat more than me, but I also don’t feel too reassured.
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drenched
member — junhui x f reader
genre — smut
word count — 2.4k
synopsis — the pool isn't the only thing that gets jun all wet.
warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, oral (reader receiving), squirting, body worship, pussy drunk jun, mentioned that reader wears a bikini (+ other clothes), they're so horny for each other it's actually just gross
notes — requested by anon for my 🐈 1k event — thanks to @onlymingyus for looking over this for me <3 sorry the synopsis is boring asdhgsj i couldnt think of a cooler one. also very very sorry again that it's taken me so long to get to these old requests but i hope you enjoy! please be sure to reblog with comments or send an ask if you liked this :)
if there's only one thing in this world that jun is obsessed with, it's your pussy.
practically every night he comes home, throwing his bag on the chair and pulling you onto the couch, begging you to let him eat you out, just really quick before dinner, please? i'll make you cum so fast, promise, just let me have ten minutes with you.
most of the time he slides your pants down and finds you already wet, knowing the kind of mood he'll be in when he gets home. it's almost impossible to force your mind out of the gutter when you can't stop picturing him kneeling between your legs, his dark brown eyes turned even darker with lust as he watches your face and every single tiny little reaction you have to him.
it's not your fault that you really can't help it if your mind wanders during the day, sending a shiver down your spine every time you think about how desperate he is for you. he'll never pass up the opportunity to bury his fingers inside you, moaning about how good it feels to have your cunt clenching him so tight and how pretty your legs look as they tremble around him.
jun loves nothing more than how wet you get and he'll clean you up with his tongue, his cock throbbing because he knows you're like this for him and him only. he'll gladly spend hours between your legs, groaning about how you're straight out of his dreams; what other explanation could there possibly be for the fact that he gets to come home to the prettiest girl he's ever seen every single day? not only that, but that you let him play with you whenever you want? he feels like he's died and gone to heaven every time you spread your legs apart and let him spend as much time as he wants in that spot.
of course, he has other favorite things, too. he loves fucking you from behind so he can see your gorgeous ass bouncing in front of him. he loves laying back and letting you do whatever you want to him, pushing his shaft between your breasts and grinning when he covers your face in his cum. but nothing compares to having his face smushed in your pussy, his skilled tongue and long fingers reaching places inside you that you didn't even know existed before you met him.
tonight is no different than every other night that he comes home and begs for your pussy. except this time he's got one thing and one thing only on his mind, and it's going to drive him insane if he doesn't have you right this second.
the first time it happened it caught you off guard. your cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment as the drops rolled down his abs coating the both of you in liquid, your legs still wrapped around his waist when he stops thrusting. you started to apologize, until jun lets out a long, low groan and tells you don't you fucking dare apologize for the hottest thing he's ever witnessed in his whole goddamn life and now he's made it his life's mission to making you squirt as much as is physically possible.
you didn't even know you could squirt at all before jun, but he brings a side out of you that you didn't know was there. a side of you so absolutely insatiable, like an unquenchable thirst, and now that it's been unlocked you're addicted to it.
with the rising temperatures and clear, sunny skies that have come after the rain and cold, it's obvious that summer is quickly closing in. it's one of his favorite seasons for many reasons, but the main one is that hotter weather means seeing you in more revealing clothes.
he had never been the type of guy to go feral at the sight of an ankle or an exposed shoulder, but around you it's like he loses all control. the way your shorts hug your ass—jean shorts, pajama shorts, bike shorts, any and all of them. his mind goes blank and all he can imagine is your perfect pussy hidden so teasingly from his view, and he'll do anything to get a taste. teasingly, because you know exactly how he gets and you love to play into it just to make him even more riled up.
you've started buying shorts that are just a little bit too small, just a little bit tighter that show another extra inch of skin. and you grin in satisfaction every single time he tears them off of you and pushes his hand down past the waistband to feel how soaked you are… until he wipes that smile right off your face with just a simple brush of his fingers.
the same goes for your shirts, too. the crop tops that expose your tummy; he loves to run his fingers over your skin, and the short length makes it so much easier for him to slide his hands up to feel your breasts. and don't even get him started on the tank tops; he feels like a virgin all over again, unable to stop his cock from twitching in his pants. when he sees that little extra bit of cleavage sitting so perfectly.
god, he loves every fucking thing about your body. but there is, however, one downside to the summer season.
okay, so it's not exactly like they banned him from the public pool, but they did tell him (in not so nice words) to stop feeling up his girlfriend in the locker rooms, and now he's too embarrassed to ever show his face there again. which honestly is more than fine by you, because if your hand wasn't down his swim shorts jerking him off as you lazily sat beside him in a chaise lounge, then was it really even a good day?
but besides that, the problem is that he can't see you near water without thinking about making you squirt. there hasn't been a single time when you've been out on the backyard patio, drops of sweat glistening on your skin from the summer heat as you hold a garden hose in your hand watering the tomato plants, that he hasn't wanted to push you against the side of the house and take you right then and there. to curl his fingers in your pussy until his hand is more soaked than the vegetables.
or like the time you both stayed at your parents’ house for a weekend while they were on vacation. he'd found you sitting out by the pool reading your book after you've just finished swimming, and the drops of water on your thighs that hadn't yet dried from the sun had reminded him too vividly of how you looked after he made you squirt with his cock. that day you'd needed a second shower, and it wasn't from the chlorine in the pool.
if your mind is in the gutter when you think about him, then his mind is in a place further than hell when he thinks about you.
so really, you can't blame him for tonight. you can't get mad at him after you sent him pictures of the pretty new bikini you'd bought for the upcoming cruise you were going on next month. but not just pictures of the bikini; pictures of you wearing it, your knees spread temptingly in a way that you knew for a fact would get him hard as a rock in seconds.
he's pissed, but more than that he's needy, because he already had to jerk off in the bathroom at work because he couldn't get his hard-on to go down any other way. his own fist will never compare to how good your pussy feels against his face, so it seems as good a place as any for you to start making it up to him for your bad behavior.
he barely gets the front door closed behind him before he's pushing you against the wall, his fingers clawing desperately at your sides as his lips capture yours. it's hot, he’s hot, and the temperature outside has nothing to do with it.
even the air conditioning in your house can't cool you down as he drags you by the waist to your shared bedroom, telling you it would be in your best interests to be waiting naked by the time he comes back with towels because he's not feeling very patient tonight.
you love it when he gets like this, and you grin triumphantly as you pull your panties off and leave them hanging off the edge of the bed, the glistening wet spot on them purposefully noticeable. you already know that you won't be leaving this room until the towels and sheets beneath you are equally soaked, and just the thought alone makes you dizzy.
the grin on jun's face is wide enough to rival yours when he comes back to find you laid out so prettily on the bed, on display for him like a gourmet fucking meal.
you lift your hips for him as he spreads out a towel beneath you, kneeling at the foot of the bed with your thighs on either side of his head. just one look at your dripping folds and he's already gone, throwing your legs over his shoulders and digging his fingers into your thighs to spread you apart even more for his eager mouth.
you've had jun's mouth on you more times than you can keep track of, but every single time still feels like the first. no matter how often he does it, you don't think you'll ever be prepared for the first lick, when he flattens his tongue to cover as much of you as possible at once before he begins.
the way he immediately and easily finds your clit, sucking messily before moving lower to slide through your folds, is always enough to bring you right up to the edge, but it doesn't last. it's a constant battle between making you cum as fast as possible, or prolonging it and moving around until you can't take it even for one more second and your orgasm is ten times stronger.
this time he chooses the latter, but you already had a feeling that that's how things would go. he's focused, honed in on your pussy; he is going to make you squirt all over his face, and if you don't think that's a guarantee, then you'd be sorely mistaken.
it's not the first time you've played this little game with him: sending suggestive photos and texting flirty messages, until you inevitably end up under him with enough orgasms to last you a week. but it's never enough to last, of course, and it's not long before you do it all over again.
he likes to act like he's teaching you a lesson, but you both have been through this routine enough times to know it's the thrill that keeps you coming back more than the need for punishment. you could always just ask him, but where's the fun in that? it's much more exciting to push his buttons and let him take over. it would almost be funny how his reaction is exactly the same every single time, if your reaction weren't also exactly the same. it's a habit you fall into together, but you wouldn't trade it for anything.
jun's fingers slide up your body, stopping at your waist to grab you and pull you harder against his nose. it's impossible not to let yourself get lost in it, moaning and threading your fingers in his hair as your pussy throbs in his mouth.
he points his tongue at your clit once more and he doesn't let up until your thighs start to shake, your breath coming out in shallow gasps. you're close and he knows it, almost even better than you know it yourself because he's spent so much time between your legs that he knows how to read your body like an open book.
your fingers in his scalp squeeze tighter, pushing his head further into you, and he groans at the feeling. he loves how quickly you get fucked out from his mouth alone, that you’re barely even processing how roughly you're moving his head because your body is on fire from the stimulation.
he'd live and die in your pussy if he could, and that's exactly what he plans to do tonight as his tongue flicks faster and harder. he can feel the wetness already gushing out of you and he knows you're right there, ready to give him what he so desperately wants.
with one final suck to your clit you go rigid and your muscles release, whimpers and whines flowing from your lips like liquid as you cum. it drenches his face, running down his cheeks and his chin and soaking his hair.
he drinks you up like a starved man, like he's been wandering alone in the desert and finally found his oasis. your head rolls back and your body writhes under his hands, but his grip is too tight and he is far too committed on getting every last drop from you to allow you to squirm out of his grasp.
it's overwhelming nearly to the point of pain but you don't want him to stop, you desperately need him to keep going until you're drained. and that’s one of the best things about jun, is that by now he can practically read your mind and he can tell when you need more and when you don’t.
he can tell what you want without even having to ask, so he reaches up and squeezes your hand in his as he looks up from between your legs, meeting your eyes and giving you that look that makes you shiver because you couldn’t imagine anyone else but him in this position. you don’t want to stop, not yet, and he nods at you knowingly with a hazy little grin and slides his tongue right back where you want it.
he’s more than willing to spend the rest of the night kneeling in front of you until you’re spent, if that’s what you want. honestly, he’s willing to spend the rest of his life there, too.
i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!
taglist will be in the comments under this fic since tumblr is having problems with mentions, i can't add them as i usually do. if you'd like to join and be notified when i post a new fic, you can fill out this short form here! :)
#kvanity#kflixnet#k-labels#caratlibrary#[📌] — june.writes#jun smut#junhui smut#svt smut#seventeen smut#junhui fanfic#junhui scenarios#junhui x reader#jun imagines#jun fanfic#jun scenarios#svt scenarios#svt x reader#svt imagines#seventeen imagines#seventeen fanfic#seventeen scenarios
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Leclerc Family Beach Day
Charles Leclerc x reader ｡･:*˚:✧｡
Word count: 1,607
It was a perfect summer day in Monaco. So perfect in fact that the Leclerc family just had to get out and have a beach day. Charles, Y/N, their four year old son Jules, and their newly one year old daughter Ines. Charles had spent the last hour trying to figure out how to fit all of the beach toys in his Ferrari 488 pista. With the limited space in the car Y/N made the executive decision to move the family to her bigger, 5 seater car. Charles, slightly disappointed in the car change, insisted on driving.
As Charles finished loading the car, talking to a little Ines who was strapped to his chest in her baby pink bjorn. Jules runs out, crashing into a much taller Charles legs. “Hey buddy, are you excited to go to the beach with your sister?” Charles kneels down to face his son, keeping a hand on his daughter as well.
“Yes papa! Nessie will have so much fun!” the little boy cheers, jumping up and down in excitement for his baby sister.
Y/N comes out of the apartment, holding Ines’ baby bag over her shoulder, locking the door behind her as she makes her way to the car in the driveway. Charles walks over to his wife, giving her a quick kiss before taking the bag from her shoulder and placing it in the trunk, closing it, signifying the beginning of the trip.
“Are you excited mon bebe?” Y/N asks her son, scooping him up and showering him with kisses. “Yes maman!”
“Remember Jules, Nessie isn't as big as you yet. She is still very small which means she can't go as far out in the water as you can. She’ll probably stay closer to the sand with me the whole time”
“Can I still play on the sand with her?” Jules asks, looking up at his papa with big eyes.
“Of course, mon fils. I'm sure she would be so happy to play with you.”
Charles, Jules, and baby Ines walk towards the car together, Y/N giving her daughter a kiss on the head before taking her out of Charles' baby bjorn and placing her in the car seat behind the driver's seat of the car. Charles opens the passenger door for Jules, lifting the little four year old boy into his carseat, and buckling him in, Jules pretending his papa is his engineer strapping him in for a race. Charles and Y/N walk over to their respective sides, double checking that everyone is buckled, Charles starts the car and the family heads to the beach.
The drive to the beach is peaceful, light music playing in the background as Charles and Y/N listen to Jules talk about how excited for the long awaited beach day. Ines, sitting in her carseat, fighting the inevitable sleep, making little babble noises to herself.
After the fairly quick car ride, the Leclerc family arrives at the somewhat secluded part of the large Monaco beach. Charles parks the car, getting out and opening the trunk, loading as many bags on his arms as he can, trying to keep himself from making multiple trips. Y/N gets out, taking Ines, holding her to her chest as she uses her other free hand to help Jules out of the car.
The family of four makes their way down to the beach, quickly finding open seats, placing their towels down. Y/N makes herself comfortable on the chair, adjusting Ines to a comfortable position against her chest, digging through her bag to find the book she's currently reading. Charles places all the bags down, applying sunscreen to both him and Jules. The four sit for a minute, Y/N and Charles hyping up Jules for the ocean just a few meters away.
“Papa, can we go now!” the little boy cheers, staring at the ocean straight in front of him. Y/N gives Charles a nod in agreement, the driver giving his wife and daughter forehead kisses before walking with his son toward the water.
“You wanna go play in the water Nessie?” Y/N asks her daughter, who is now sleeping against her chest. “No? You wanna hang out with your maman? I think that sounds like a perfect idea”
Down by the water Charles holds his son's hand as they walk into the water, Charles not wanting his son to get swept away by a current due to his small size. Once they find themselve deep enough for Jules (the water coming up to his hips) Charles sits down to play in the water.
Jules turns to his dad, hitting his hands against the water, splashing his dad in the face. Charles moves his hand against the water, lightly splashing his son in retaliation, Jules laughing at their water fight.
“You want to go on my shoulders mon fils?” Charles asks, the little boy nodding excitedly.
Charles gets out of the water, lifting his son up and placing him comfortably on his shoulders, holding his little legs to steady him. Charles walks deeper into the water, holding his son so he can see farther out, but still staying safe with his papa.
Back at the shore Y/N is documenting the sweet moment between father and son. Holding her camera out, taking as many pictures as she can before Ines wakes up needing something. She puts her phone down, admiring the pictures, ultimately deciding on setting them as her iphone lock screen background.
A little yawn captures Y/N’s attention, the woman looks down at her daughter, now awake and staring back at her. The baby smiles at her maman, Y/N smiling back at her daughter's tiny face. “What do you say Nessie? Is it beach time?”
Y/N takes Ines’ gummy smile and little coo as a yes. Marking her page in her book and placing it back in her bag. She puts some more sunscreen on her daughter, adjusting her little sun hat before taking the girl in her arms and walking toward the beach.
“Look papa, it's maman and Nessie!” Jules cheers, Charles turning around to see his wife and daughter walking toward them. Y/N keeps Ines close to her, holding the little girl tightly as the two of them make their way to their boys.
Charles starts walking closer, taking Jules off his shoulders and placing him down in the water when it becomes safest, the boy runs to his maman, hugging her legs, looking up at his little sister in admiration. “Is Nessie ready to go in the water?” Charles coos at his daughter, taking her from his wife's arms.
Charles sits down in the water again, placing his daughter against his chest so half her body is submerged. Her face contorts, not used to the warm ocean water. Jules kneels down too, looking at his little sister, waiting to see her reaction. The little girl's face turns into a smile, her chubby legs kicking back and forth under the water with excitement.
Y/N sits down with the rest of her family, the adults talking while their kids splash around in the water. “I would call this a successful beach day Mr. Leclerc.”
“I would have to agree with you Mrs. Leclerc.” Charles says, leaning over his kids to kiss his wife. “Thank you for giving me them, for giving me this.”
“Thank you for your contribution” Y/N laughs, “I’d say we make a pretty good team”
“The best” Charles kisses his wife one more time, their attention going back to their kids.
“Maman, can Nessie and I go make a sand castle?” Jules stands up, making himself level with his parents
“Of course, I don't know how much help she’ll be but papa and I could help if you'd like?” Jules nods in excitement, taking his maman’s hand and pulling her out of the water, practically dragging her to the shore.
Charles laughs at his wife's expression, watching her get pulled away by their tiny son. “Papa, hurry up, youre so slow!” Jules yells back to his papa.
When they make it back to the shore, Jules plops himself down on the sand, digging through one of the many beach bags they brought, trying to find all of his supplies. Charles sits down across from his son, spreading his legs out against the sand, placing his daughter down in front of him so she's leaning against his stomach.
Y/N sits off to the side, taking pictures of the family, talking with her boys as her son cautiously works on the delicate sand castle. Charles cheers his son on, only helping when his son asks. Ines reaches for the castle a couple times, Charles moving back, preventing his daughter from accidentally ruining his son's hard work.
As the sun starts setting, sleep starts to hit both of the Leclerc kids, Charles starts packing up the bags, taking trips back and forth to the car, loading them all up. Y/N insisted on helping her husband but Charles insisted she stay put and relax. Y/N lays on the beach chair, both of her kids asleep in her lap. Now it's Charles' turn to capture a beautiful family moment, setting the picture as his new background as well.
Charles lifts up Jules from his wife's lap, the boy's head resting on his papa’s shoulder, Charles helps Y/N, kissing her once more as the family walk to their car, kids in hand, leaving behind a beautiful beach and a successful beach day for all.
#dad!charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x female reader#Charles Leclerc x y/n#dad!Charles Leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fluff
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little old me — r. cameron
soooooo my deepest, darkest, most impulsive thoughts may have won over with this one. hopefully you like it or at the very least, understand why i wrote it :)
❝ who’s afraid of
little old me?
you should be. ❞
pairing: bf!rafe x dark!reader
context: rafe comes to realize you’re more like him than he thought.
words: 3k+
warnings: definitely +18. mdni. murder, dark!rafe, psycho!rafe, psycho!reader, jealousy, possessive behavior, p in v sex, unprotected sex, sub!rafe (kind of, but not really), choking, praise kink, cutting, stabbing, blood, violence, blood play (idek if it counts tbh), dark fluff (is that even a thing?), SMUT with fucked up plot… rafe and reader being crazy, basically
you stood by the bar beside your best friend, engaged in conversation about some guy who'd pissed her off today by standing her up on a date, your eyes focused on the scene behind her head, where your boyfriend sat on the couch in the living room, a girl with short brown hair beside him, trying to cling onto his arm.
you feel your grip around your glass tighten, as the girl's hand gets closer and closer to wrapping around rafe's bicep.
"do you know who that girl is?" you cut your best friend off in the middle of her sentence and she snaps her head to what or who you're looking at.
"oh, that's sofia," she tells you, taking a sip of her drink. "she works as a bartender at the club. always flirting with top, kelce, and rafe. why? you jealous?"
heat rises in your chest at the mention of the girl constantly flirting with rafe, but you play it off. "please," a scoff leaves your mouth. "you know he knows better."
you take sip of your drink, and pull out your phone to text rafe.
you: if that sofia girl touches you one more time, i stg i'm dragging her ass across the floor
rafe: chill baby
rafe: you won't
you click your tongue and type away, your best friend watching your every move.
"you good?" she asks.
"mhm," you hum, sending the message.
you: you think i'm kidding?
you: try me, bitch.
you look up to find rafe snickering at your text, which only pisses you off more as he texts you back.
rafe: shut the fuck up, and get over here.
you: fuck no. tell her my drink's empty.
rafe watches as you down the rest of your drink and set the glass down on the bar, before waltzing away and heading outside, throwing him a glare as you do. he rolls his eyes at your antics, but gets up to follow you anyway.
“where the fuck are you going?” he calls after you, trailing closely behind as you cross the front lawn. “you came here with me.”
“i’ll call an uber,” you reply, continuing to walk towards the road. “go back and inside and let sofia touch you some more.”
“oh my god,” he groans and catches up to you, grabbing onto your wrist to make you stop and look at him. “will you quit being a brat?”
you tilt your head up at him, fire in your eyes as they lock with his. “and what are you gonna do if i don’t?”
—
a moan slips out of your mouth as your back hits rafe's bedroom door, making it slam shut—thank god, his family had gone to the bahamas—as he kissed you like a man starved.
"still got more to say about sofia?" he says against you, lips trailing down to your neck, and hands trailing up your thighs to hook them around his waist. "jump."
you do as your told, your legs locking around him and your fingers tangling into his hair, as your lips connected again and rafe's hands trailed up your back—one pressing you against him and one sliding up your hair.
he turns and lets you fall onto the bed with him above you, your legs still locked around him, as he began untying the knot in your shirt. he pushes it off of you, revealing your lacy white bra.
"fuckkk y/n," he groans, hand reaching up to grab at one of your tits.
"you like it baby?" you ask, as he trails wet kisses down your neck and collar bone. "it's new."
"i love it," he says, fingers unclasping it from the front, and lips moving to wrap around your now exposed nipple.
his other hand massages your other boob, finger flicking at your sensitive nub.
you pull him up to attach his lips back to yours. "i want you, rafe. now."
he chuckles against your lips, the vibration turning you on more, the spot between your legs getting wetter. you flip the both of you over so you're straddling him.
"i like this side of you, doll," he looks up at you with a smirk as you rid yourself of your bra, and he reaches up to grab both your tits. "should make you jealous more often."
"shut up," you say, leaning back down to kiss him, hands entwining into his hair as your hips press down into his.
a groan falls from his mouth as his hands roam over your body, your hard nipples pressing against him.
"need you, pretty girl," he said, hips lifting into yours.
"more than sofia?" you ask, pulling your lips away from his.
"more than anyone," he replies, hands snaking around the front of your waist to unbutton your shorts.
you move to the side so he can tug them off your legs, along with your lacy white thong, while you reach to pull his shirt off his head and he takes off his shorts.
you swing your leg back over him once you're both naked, hovering and grinding your hips above him, slickness coating his dick just enough to tease him.
"doll, come on," he whines, attempting to press you down onto his length.
you place both your hands on his chest and lean down towards his ear. "this'll teach you not to make me jealous."
"y/n…" his voice is much serious now, and you smirk.
"what?" you look at him with innocent eyes, hand trailing down to grab his dick and align it with your center.
you slowly sink down onto him, your body relaxing as he groans.
"so so good," you mewl, hips rocking against his.
he watches you closely, hands moving to grip your hips. he lifts you up slightly and slams you back down, eliciting a moan from your mouth.
"move, pretty girl," he demands, eyes locked on yours as you sit up. "let me see you ride me."
you give in to his words and begin bouncing your ass on him, hands trailing down to his abs to steady yourself. up. down. up. down. up. down.
"just like that, doll," rafe says, hand trailing up your body to wrap around your neck. "you look so pretty riding my cock."
that only makes you pick up the pace, hands moving to rest on his thighs behind you, as your pussy clenches around his length, your orgasm quickly building up in your core. rafe's hands move to grab your tits as you continue, his eyes watching himself slip in and out of you.
"you gonna cum for me, baby?" he asked when you threw your head back in pleasure.
"cum with me, rafe," you moan, your high inching closer and closer.
his fingers pinch at your nipples and that sends you over the edge, your hips slowing down as your high washes over you. rafe follows soon after, thrusts getting sloppier as he comes down.
you slowly move off to lay beside him, and he reaches out to open the drawer of his nightstand and pull out a small towel. he uses it to clean the spot between your legs before cleaning off himself.
you position yourself under his comforter as he tosses the towel on the ground and joins you.
"remember how good my pussy feels around you next time you let sofia touch you," you say, snuggling into him.
a small chuckles falls from his lips as he wraps an arm around you and places a soft kiss on your forehead. "good night, crazy girl."
—
your eyes shoot open at the sound of rafe’s phone incessantly buzzing on the nightstand, as the sunshine peeked through his bedroom curtains.
making sure not to wake him, you reach over to grab his phone, rage boiling through your veins when you read the notifications on the screen.
3 missed calls from sofia.
sofia: hey, i saw y/n throw a fit and storm off last night. that must be a lot to deal with everyday lol. lmk if you need to blow off some steam ;) xx
“oh, this bitch needs to be put down,” you mutter to yourself, immediately unlocking rafe’s phone—he gave you his passcode months ago without you even asking—and typing away to reply to sofia's message.
rafe: hey sof :) yeah, she's a lot. how 'bout you meet me at tannyhill around 2 today?
you hit send, and the three bubbles appear almost immediately.
god, this bitch was desperate.
sofia: perf, i'll see you then!!
rafe: just knock when you get here, i'll be home alone
sofia: you got it, see u later xx
you roll your eyes and proceed to delete the conversation, before moving to rafe's phone app to remove her 3 missed calls from his log.
three. who calls a guy with a girlfriend three times? crazy bitch.
just as you're about to place his phone back on the nightstand, rafe groans and shifts, arm slinging over your waist, as a call from ward vibrates his phone.
"baby," you nudge rafe, but he just groans again, arm around your waist tightening. "rafe," you shake him this time and his eyes flutter open.
"morning, pretty girl," he smiles, hand scratching your lower back. "you ok?"
"mhm," you nod, pretending you had just woken up. "woke up from your dad calling, though."
you hold the phone out to him, which was now vibrating for the second time with ward's name.
"sorry 'bout that, doll," he takes the phone from you and sits up, answering the call and pressing the phone up against his ear.
"i'm gonna go pee," you mouth to him, and he nods, as you get out from under the covers and slip on rafe's shirt before walking towards his bathroom.
you close the door behind you and take a quick piss before washing your hands and deciding to brush your teeth.
hopefully rafe wasn't gonna be around the house at 2 today, you thought. you knew he went out golfing with the boys and hit the gym afterwards every saturday afternoon, usually returning around 5 or 6, so it shouldn't be a problem. unless ward had him do something today that required him to stick around the house—now that would really put a damper on your plans.
the door opens and rafe joins you, only wearing a pair of boxers. "mmm," he walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, chin resting against your shoulder. "i'll never get sick of seeing you in my shirt."
his eyes meets yours through the mirror, and you lean down to spit and rinse your mouth.
"what's my baby doing today?" he asked, as you wiped your mouth dry.
"probably just hang around here," you shrug, hands trailing along his arms, as you leaned your head against his. "maybe lay out by the pool for a bit and make some lunch."
"for me too?"
you look down at him, and his eyes meet yours. "you're not going golfing with kelce and top?"
"oh, i am," he nods. "and i gotta take care of some stuff for dad too, so i'll probably be home a little later." perfect. "how 'bout we do dinner? you can dress up all cute and sexy, and i'll take you out on the town?"
"sounds perfect, baby," you smile, connecting your lips with his.
this was gonna be the best day ever.
—
after rafe left around eleven, you occupied yourself by taking a quick swim in the pool, before settling on a floatie and closing your eyes, as the sun beat down on your skin.
ring! ring! ring!
your alarm clock goes off at 1:50 pm, and you open your eyes to take your phone from the cup holder and silence it, happily slipping off the floatie when you realize it's almost time.
you grab your towel from one of the pool chairs and dry off before wrapping it around you, slipping on your crochet shorts, and waltzing inside with more of a pep in your step than usual.
you whistle as you walk through the house and stop in the living room to hang your towel off the back of the armchair and sit down, just in time for a knock to come at the door.
it's followed by another, before the front door creaks open and closes, as the sound of someone's footsteps get closer and closer.
"rafe?" the sound of sofia's voice fills your ears and you smile when she reaches the living room.
"hey, sof," you say, causing her to completely stop in her tracks, a few feet away.
"oh, y/n," she was clearly caught off guard. "i didn't know you'd be here."
"of course you didn't," you shrug, sitting up. "because you came here to see my rafe, isn't that right, sof?"
"uhh…"
"no need to lie, sweetheart," you drawl. "i've been expecting you." you pull out the pocket knife that you had stashed in the armchair earlier to prepare and spin it around in your fingers.
the color instantly drains from sofia's face, as you flip the knife open, the blade catching the sun's light.
"here's the thing, sof," you stand up and slowly approach her, the growing crazy look in your eyes making her uneasy. "i'm a very possessive person, and i don't like sharing what's mine." you shake your head, eyes focused on hers.
"and rafe… tall and handsome as he is… is mine," you glide the edge of your knife across her collarbone as you round her, making sure not to cut her just yet. "and personally, i didn't take it very well when you called and texted him this morning."
"i- i don't know what you're talking about," her voice shakes, clearly afraid of what you might do if she admits to it.
"hey, i saw y/n throw a fit and storm off last night. that must be a lot to deal with everyday. let me know if you want to blow off some steam," you recite the text message she sent rafe from memory, making her breath hitch.
"that— that wasn't an accident," sofia shakes her head. "i didn't mean-"
"oh, baby," you whisper against her ear, making her head turn towards you. "don't you know i hate liars?"
"please," sofia begs, eyes closing shut as tears stream down her face. "y/n… you don't have to do this."
"and you didn't have to text my man," you tut, trailing the knife down her back. "but you did, so i'll make it quick."
"no!" she shouts, pushing you away from her, and beelining for the door.
"you really shouldn't have done that," you chuckle, a smirk coming across your lips, as you follow to tackle her before she reaches the door.
you turn her around, so you're straddling her, both your knees pinning her arms down. "i tried to be nice…" you say, gripping a handful of her brown hair as you lean down to cut across her collar bone.
she screams in agony. "stop, stop, stop!"
"consider this a lesson, sof…" you trail off, knife moving down to dig into the side of her stomach. "rafe," stab. "is," stab. "mine."
you pull the knife out from her side, blood splattering on your stomach, as you drag it up her body, towards her chest.
"and," stab. "you," stab. "don't," stab. "take," stab. "what's," stab. "mine."
the color drowns from her face as her eyes turn lifeless, and she stops squirming underneath you.
at this point, your chest, face, legs, and arms are covered with blood splatters, your hand holding the knife bloodier than any other part of you.
you stand up and hover over her, a smirk coming across your lips at the sight of her dead body.
"look, dad, i took care of it, a'ight?" the familiar sound of your boyfriend's voice booms through the house, as you hear the backyard door slide close.
shit. shit. shit.
he wasn't suppose to be home until later. what the fuck was he doing here?
panic begins to build up inside you, as rafe's footsteps approach you, and you round sofia's body to pick up one of her hands to begin dragging her towards the front door. maybe it was a good thing she tried to run.
"yeah, i got it," you hear rafe's voice again. "i think y/n's taking a nap right now, so i'll take the druthers out and-" he suddenly stops in the entryway connecting the living room to the kitchen, eyes on you. "i'll call you back later."
he ends the call with ward, phone coming down to his side.
"i told you i'd drag her across the floor?" you joke, shrugging a shoulder.
"holy shit, y/n!" rafe rushes over and crouches down to feel sofia's pulse.
nothing.
he looks up at you. "did you do this?!"
"no…" you give him your innocent eyes, and drop her hand, pocket knife hiding behind your back.
"what the fuck, babe?"
"hey, don't act like this is all on me!" you argue, pointing down at sofia's body and pacing around the room. "she was the one who was texting and calling you nonstop this morning! she should've known better! no one takes what's mine. especially not you!"
"you— you did this… because of me?" rafe slowly stands, eyes refocusing on your crazed out state.
"of course i did," your shoulders falling limp. "i— i love you, rafe!" you shake your head. "i— i can't lose you. not-"
before you could get another word out, he was pushing you up against the wall, lips hungrily kissing yours.
the knife clatters onto the ground, as your bloodied hands tangle into his hair, and he hooks a hand around your thigh to bring it up beside his waist.
"you— you're not mad?" you ask between kisses.
"are you kidding?" he mutters against you. "fuck no. just a little more work for me."
"wait, wait, wait—" you place a hand on his chest, and push him away just enough to look at him. "what does that mean?"
"there may or may not be a dead body in the cargo bed of my truck…"
"you killed someone?"
"it was necessary?" he shrugs, a cute little smile on his lips.
a laugh falls from your mouth before you can stop it.
"what?" rafe asks, chuckling at the sound of your adorable laugh.
you shake your head, hand trailing down his hair. "we're so fucked up."
"and that's just how i like it."
i hope y'all don't think i'm absolutely insane now lolz. i swearrrrr i just wanted to try something new.
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
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tags: @chiaraanatra @ijustwanttoreadlols @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @solanathascientst @10ava01 @werewhatkilledthedinosaurs @void21 @groovycass @azrielsgirll @rroslitas @crvptidgf @star-girl-05 @redhead1180 @shadyshadyy @prettypimpcess12 @emotionsmgcbabe @outerbankspov
#rafe cameron#rafe#rafe ob#rafe outer banks#rafe smut#dark rafe#crazy rafe#dark reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe and reader being partners in crime#rafe x reader#rafe x y/n#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe fic#obx fit#outer banks fic
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WIP excerpt for tabetharasa behind the cut; alpha Jazz, a dark alley, and a very pretty omega. ( + non-chrono link for mobile users )
Jazz has no idea why Red Hood thinks he smells anything but delicious, but there’s a very reckless and dubiously-ethical part of her that would be willing to prove it to him. Not that she would, obviously, because that would be, again, incredibly unethical and highly inappropriate and also a total dick move.
She just could, that’s all. Just if it came up or whatever.
“Well, it’s not,” she says, mildly put out by whatever’s going on here, and Red Hood growls. His scent blockers continue to be useless. Just–absolutely useless, yes.
Ancients, he smells so good. What is she even supposed to do about how good this omega smells?
Maybe offer to walk him home, or at least offer him her jacket so he has enough alpha scent on him that no one bothers him on his way back to his den. Although he’s a crime lord–or a vigilante? one or the other, whatever–who’s built like a truck, so that probably isn’t really a concern, she supposes.
Then again, some people seriously do have no sense of decorum.
Or survival instincts.
“Shut the fuck up!” Red Hood snaps. Jazz frowns. That seems like a disproportionate amount of anger in his tone. Maybe he's sensitive about his pheromones. Well, if people have been telling him he smells like death . . .
Though “death” doesn't necessarily smell bad, in Jazz's opinion.
Admittedly, that's a liminal's opinion and besides the point anyway. But still.
“Alright,” she says. “But can you get to your den safely? Or . . . somewhere you can den down, anyway, I don't know. I assume you have a headquarters or a safehouse or two, something like that. Or at least can afford a heat hotel or know a decent clinic.”
Red Hood hisses at her. It crackles through his modulator, but the sound of it still makes her jeans a little . . . uncomfortable, she'll just say. Sue her, she likes omegas with a bite to them. Johnny 13 definitely didn't win her over by being the sweet and polite type; he won her over by being a blunt asshole in a leather jacket who'd convinced her that he was a sincere and straight-up person.
She wonders how “sincere” the average Gotham crime boss really is, but it’s a little difficult to concentrate on that question with the scent of old books and burning cedar filling up her nose. And also that note of lilac. That note of lilac is a problem.
A serious problem.
“I realize heat drop is probably imminent and you must be uncomfortable, but it’s a valid concern on my part, given your condition,” she says, which normally she’d make sound politely disapproving but really can’t make sound any kind of disapproving right now. Again: the lilac. “So can you?”
“Fuck makes you think I'd let you anywhere near my den?” Red Hood snarls. Jazz blinks; tilts her head.
“Nothing,” she says. “What makes you think I was asking to go anywhere near it?”
Red Hood–stalls, briefly. Jazz tries to be polite about how incredibly obvious a tell that statement was.
Flattering, but incredibly obvious.
“I mean, I'd be happy to escort you if you’d like,” she says. “Or lend you my scent, if you need it. But I'm not trying to presume anything.”
“Fuck off,” Red Hood snarls. “Nobody escorts an omega like me.”
“Do you think maybe you have some self-esteem issues?” Jazz asks. Heat is almost definitely making him a bit more volatile and emotional than normal, considering the kinds of things he’s been saying to her, but it still seems like a valid question. Being on their cycle doesn’t make people different people; just makes it a bit harder for them to censor and control themselves.
Or a lot harder, sometimes.
Judging by how strong Red Hood’s pheromones smell right now . . .
Well, he might be having a harder time than he’s used to having, so far as “controlling himself” goes.
Jazz certainly is, all inappropriate knotheaded puns aside.
Do Poison Ivy’s pollens make cycles hit harder, actually? Or does the suddenness of the effect disorient or throw people off, maybe?
Well, that’s a worrying thought, since Red Hood seems to be out here alone.
“‘Self-esteem issues’?” Red Hood repeats incredulously, his pheromones briefly sparking with bewilderment. Jazz decides not to press it, since he might be feeling a little vulnerable right now.
“Yes,” she says. “Is there someone you can call, if you don’t want an escort or to borrow my scent? I could wait with you until they show. No offense, just Park Row’s not a very nice neighborhood.”
Red Hood laughs.
“No fucking shit!” he says, spreading his arms. “It’s Crime Alley!”
“I know, sorry, I just keep accidentally calling it ‘Park Row’ in my head. Still new in town,” Jazz apologizes. She assumes a crime lord would prefer his territory be correctly referred to, anyway. Seems like a thing. She knows standard humans don’t actually have haunts–even most liminal ones don’t, including her–but sometimes she does . . . well, not forget, exactly, but just . . . expect them to anyway, she supposes?
She spent way too long in Amity, yes.
Even without Crime Alley being Red Hood’s actual haunt, though, it’s still disrespectful to call it the wrong name. It’s still his territory either way, and she imagines someone on their cycle especially wouldn’t appreciate the mistake.
“What is your damage?” Red Hood snarls, his voice modulator crackling threateningly as he visibly bristles, and Jazz catches notes of that electric and unexpected edge in his pheromones again. Still vaguely familiar, but still not quite what it seems like it should be. Just . . .
Really, if she didn’t know better . . . well, she’d think he was liminal. But that seems like a very unlikely coincidence for her first week in Gotham, so . . .
Then again, her life is her life.
It’s not really the time to be asking Red Hood about his levels of ecto exposure, though, and she’s pretty sure they’ve both got more important priorities right now.
“We don’t really have time to unpack all that, to be honest. You really do need to get home,” she says. “Or at least call someone to pick you up. If you go into heat drop alone in Crime Alley, I can’t imagine it’s going to end well.”
Red Hood hisses. That might’ve sounded like a threat, Jazz realizes belatedly.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” she says, apologetic again. “But it’s not safe, is it?”
“If anyone I don’t want near my ass tries to touch me, I’ll put a bullet up theirs,” Red Hood growls, low and crackling.
“That seems like a lot of trouble when you’re on your cycle, though,” Jazz says. He’d have a body to deal with, and maybe someone would call the cops–well, she supposes it is Crime Alley, so maybe not . . .? But it’d be self-defense anyway, and if he is a crime lord, maybe he has people for that.
Hm.
She really needs to get familiar with this area as soon as possible, yeah. And just Gotham in general, really. Every city has its own idiosyncrasies, but Gotham is its idiosyncrasies.
Well, so is Amity Park, of course.
“I think you belong in Arkham, lady,” Red Hood says. Jazz feels like a Gothamite should be more understanding of someone taking supervillain attack side effects and hostile heated-up crime lords in stride, but apparently not.
“Technically, you’re not wrong,” she says with a wry smile. She’d offer him a handshake, but that’s not really appropriate for an alpha to offer to an omega in heat. Especially not an unmated alpha, which Jazz very definitely is. “I start Monday. Jazz Fenton, psychiatric intern. At your service.”
Red Hood manages to very clearly stare at her without actually taking off the helmet. It's actually an impressive amount of expressiveness to get across, under the circumstances.
Or there could be a touch of liminal empathy happening, admittedly. That's possible too. Especially with another liminal involved.
Jazz briefly considers what knotting a liminal omega might actually be like if an empathy loop got established somewhere in the process, which is a lie, because what she’s actually imagining is picking up this liminal omega and showing him exactly how delicious she thinks he smells.
Definitely inappropriate.
“They will literally eat you alive,” Red Hood says.
“I mean, there’s a risk of it,” Jazz allows, because nothing is a perfect guarantee. It’s just not a very large risk. Comparatively, she means.
“You applied to Arkham on purpose, lady?” Red Hood says disbelievingly.
“Oh, no,” Jazz says, shaking her head. “They made me an offer. Somebody read my thesis and liked it, apparently.”
Well . . . “thought we should interview you for either a position or to have your file established for whenever the convictions start rolling in”, whichever. The interviewing psychiatrists had a range of reactions during her interview, she supposes is the best way to put it.
Jazz really doesn’t think it’s fair to classify her parents as actual supervillains, but an increasingly long list of professionals has, admittedly, not agreed with that assessment.
She can’t imagine what they would’ve thought if she’d told them about Danny, considering.
Well, it’s not her problem if someone else is going to be close-minded about things like that.
“I’m sorry, I’m really not trying to be pushy here, but are you sure you don’t want to call anyone? Or want my scent. Or . . . literally anything,” she says, gesturing a little awkwardly with her shopping bags. “I do get told my pheromones are pretty discouraging to unwanted attention, if that helps?”
“Sure they are,” Red Hood snorts. Jazz tries not to look disapproving, given his compromised state. That kind of thing can bother omegas in heat, she knows.
“That’s what people tell me,” is all she says. Obviously it’s not just the default parts of her scent that make it a strong deterrent, but as for the force of the emotions and claim she can put into it . . .
Well. She just hears it’s “discouraging” to other alphas pretty regularly, that’s all. And also some betas, depending on their sexuality. And, um . . . well, a little closer to “catnip”, for omegas, but . . .
“I’ll believe it when I smell it, knothead,” Red Hood snorts again. “Prove it.”
Jazz isn’t sure that’s a good idea, considering–again–his compromised state, but, well . . . he’s clearly a strong omega himself, and maybe she’s a little miffed by him just assuming she’s lying about something like that, that’s all. She knows plenty of alphas do lie about their pheromones or even lay on fake ones, but . . . well, it’s hard not to wonder if he just thinks she’s a lesser alpha because she’s female, or because of how she’s dressed or looks or speaks, or just because.
Her inner alpha doesn’t love the experience of one of the most gorgeous-smelling omegas she’s ever scented sneering at her worth as an alpha without even giving her a shot to prove it, either way.
“Are you sure?” she asks.
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Painted Smile
Painted Smile II
<- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->
Pairing: Alastor x Female! Reader
Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.
Notes: It's beginning to be a littler darker. Slowly we will see Alastor's mindset. There is blood in this chapter and a bit of sadism from Alastor. But I hope you'll enjoy it. I can't wait for them to grow up so it can get darker and darker~
You were so bored. You were laying on the floor of your bedroom, staring at the ceiling. It's been a whole week since you played with Alastor and you couldn’t wait for the weekend to come. Your mother wanted you to make friends in your new school and the weekend you would be able to go play with Alastor, and she would be able to meet with her precious friend.
You pouted. You were still trying to find new games to play with Alastor, you didn’t want him to feel bored with you, you wanted him to want to be friends with you! You didn’t want him to see you as a child, you were eight years old, he was a year older, if you were a child so was he ! You stood up and went downstairs, meeting your mother in the kitchen.
“ Mommy, what do boys like?” you asked, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. You didn’t know why but you felt embarrassed to ask your mother. Most of the time, your friends would follow your lead as you decided the games you wanted to play. Your mother turned toward you with a knowing smile.
“ What do boys like or what do Alastor like?” she said with a teasing glint in her eyes. You shook your head so hard you almost lost your balance. How come she already knew you were thinking about the boy?
“ No mommy ! It’s just… At school, they don’t play the same game I used to.. So I’m asking you, what kind of games were you playing when you were my age?” you tilted your head, proud of you. You weren’t lying , you were also curious about your mother’s childhood, but if it could help you find a game Alastor would like..
Your mother held her chin with her finger, looking at the ceiling, searching in her memory. After a few seconds she shook her head and went back to cooking.
“ I’m sorry sweetie, I don’t really remember. It’s a shame you don’t want to know what Alastor likes, Marie told me some information about him but I guess you are not interested.” she sighed with a smile as she cut the vegetable on the kitchen counter. You looked at your mother, eyes wide open, curiosity devouring your inside.
“ What does he like, Mommy? Tell me, tell me!” you bounced next to her, grabbing her dress with a beaming smile, already forgetting that you wanted to keep your curiosity about the boy a secret. She laughed as she patted your head, putting the knife down.
“ Well, he likes food, he always loves helping Marie when she is cooking but if my memory is correct he doesn’t like sweets. He also loves music, he plays the piano very well !” She told you as you stared at her. He liked food and music…
You didn’t know how to play an instrument and you only knew how to make sweets - with your Mother’s help-. how were you supposed to be closer to him with that information!
“ Well sweetie, don’t look so down! You can sing with him while he plays the piano, can’t you?” she tilted her head as she stroked your cheek. You blushed and shook your head, you loved singing but you didn’t want Alastor to hear you, what if he didn’t like your voice? He didn’t see you as a proper lady, what if he deemed your voice annoying or worse ! Maybe you could try to cook something for him with your mother’s help..? As you shared your idea with your mother she smiled and promised that this weekend you would cook something for Alastor and his mother.
~~~
Finally! You buzzed with excitement as you held the plate that contained the food you made with your mother. It was almost 2 pm as you walked toward the soon to be familiar house. Your father didn’t come with you this time, saying that he would not interfere with your mother and Marie’s gossip. You couldn’t hide your smile as your mother knocked at the door, laughing at your eagerness. Three seconds later, the door was wide open with Marie hugging your mother and kissing you on both cheeks. You really liked “La bise”, you hoped she would keep doing it.
“ Well, well, what is that my dear? Did you make it for us ?” Marie asked as she took the plate from you, inviting you inside her house. You nodded with a proud smile, looking around to see if Alastor was there. “ If you’re looking for Alastor, I think he is in his bedroom, playing with his radio.” You didn’t wait for her to give you permission, as soon as she told you where Alastor's bedroom was, you were running, trying not to fall the stairs, eager to play with the boy.
You quietly opened the door and peeked inside the bedroom where you could hear music playing. And there he was, his back to you,his head moving with the rhythm of the melody, sitting on a chair with a radio on the desk in front of him. You grinned and walked slowly and quietly toward him, you were going to give him the scare of his life. As you inhale air to shout near his ear–
“ How rude, entering a boy’s bedroom without permission.” Alastor turned his face toward you with a cocky smile. You almost said a bad word but held yourself and you smiled at him.
“ I see no boy.” you grinned, as you crossed your arms in front of your chest, just like he did the first time you met him. He blinked and brought his face closer to yours, his smile getting bigger and bigger. You blushed and took a step back. “ What ?”
“ You know that I could hear you from the moment my mother opened the door? You aren’t really discrete. “ he took his glasses on his desk and put them on before looking at you once again. “ Why are you here ?”
You almost choked on your own saliva. What did he mean? Didn’t he want to see you again? Trying not to blush from embarrassment you just turn your head to the side, closing your eyes, your lips in a small pout.
“ Well, my mommy wanted to see your mommy and she brought along. I didn't want to see you again!” you stuck your tongue at him before turning your back at him. Your face was red, disappointment and embarrassment were circling in your body. You felt so upset, so lonely.... You felt Alastor’s hand on your shoulder but didn’t move, you kept your back at him. You were done being nice to him. Serves him right!
You heard him sigh before you felt his hand on your eyes, covering them. You stood still, confused. What was he doing? Can’t he see that you were angry with him? You opened your mouth to tell him to back off but–
“ I didn’t expect…to be content to see you today.”
You stood there for a minute in silence, his hand still covering your eyes. You couldn’t help the big smile stretching your lips. You put your hand on his eyes, as you could because you couldn’t see anything, but Alastor took your hands and put it on his eyes.
“ I wanted to see you too.”
You both stayed like this for a minute or two until you couldn’t hold still any longer. You took your hands off his face and he did the same. You smiled at him before kissing both his cheeks, just like his mother did to you. He looked at you, his smile twitching but didn’t do anything else. You clapped in your hands, feeling overjoyed once more.
“ I cooked something for you ! And don’t worry, it’s not sweets !” you smiled, pleased with yourself. Alastor blinked, tilted his head and grinned.
“ Why did you not make sweets ?”
“ I thought you did not like sweets?”
“ How do you know?” he teased.
“ Whatever, it’s not important!” you walked toward his radio with big shining eyes. You listened to the music coming out of it and turned to Alastor with a big smile. “ Let’s dance !”
You saw his smile stretched with a glint in his eyes. He held his hand toward you like a gentleman. Just like how your father did when he danced with your mother in the living room. You took his hand and jumped to the rhythm, laughing as you saw Alastor face drop, his smile confused, watching you jumping around as you held his hand in yours. You encouraged him to jump just like you, you didn't know if he was timid or something else but after some time he began to dance with you.
He took your hand, making you twirl, your dress moving with your movement. You looked at him, surprised. He seemed to know how to dance like an adult! He smirked at you and you couldn't bear to see his face so satisfied, again. You let go of his hand, dancing toward his bed… and then, you took a pillow and threw it at his face. You watched as it hit him right in the face, making him stumbled back, falling in his behind. You laughed loudly, holding your belly.
“ Serves you right Mister Alastor–” you fell on your bottom as Alastor ran toward you and hit you with the pillow. He had a big grin on his face, laughing and hitting you with the pillow as you were laughing, trying to escape him. He pinned you down and held the pillow in his hand above his head.
“ Rule number one, never drop your guard.” He hitted you with his pillow. “ Rule number two, I’m the strongest here.” he hitted you once again. “ Rule number three, give up.” He smiled as he watched you trying to sit up but each time you tried, he would hit you softly with his pillow. As he held the pillow once again above his head, his shirt raised a little, making you able to see his belly. You tilted your head as you saw .. bruises ? You looked at his face and saw his gaze on you, any kind of fun was no longer present, even his smile seemed to have faded a little.
You quickly took his hand and put it on your eyes, covering your vision.
“ I wanted to make you something, I know you don’t like sweets because I asked my mother what you would have liked…” you bite your lips, your cheeks red. You wanted Alastor to laugh again, you wanted him to have fun so you began to blablated about your old life, what you liked to eat, to do… you let his hand go but he kept it on your eyes. After five minutes of you talking alone you stopped.
“ … So you sing?” he asked.
“Yes! ”
“ We can try a duet if you are good enough.” he took his hand off your face with a playful smile. You grinned, mission accomplished !
“ Kids, come downstairs !”
Alastor stood up and helped you sit up. As soon as you were ready, you went downstairs where your mothers were waiting for you. You sat on the sofa with Alastor as you began to chat the afternoon away. Beginning to get bored after twenty minutes, you looked at the windows and squeaked in glee as you saw a cat walking. You jumped off the sofa and ran outside.
“ Kitty, kitty, hello~” you approached your hand and let the cat nuzzle against your hand. You smiled as you petted it, happy to hear it purring. You heard footsteps behind you and soon after you saw Alastor, standing still as he stared at the cat. You didn’t know what happened but the cat began to hiss toward your friend, you tried to calm it but its claws dug into your hands before it ran away. You let out a scream as you held your hand against your chest. That hurts ! You looked at your bleeding hands, tears welling up in your eyes.
“ Let me see.”
You sniffed as Alastor took you hand in his, watching your injury. You tried to not cry, you didn't want him to think you were a crybaby! He asked if it hurted, to which you answered with a nod.
“ You can cry if you want.” You shook your head but let out a shout as Alastor dug his nails in your hand. You looked at him, eyes wide open with tears streaming down your face, why did he do that? But what was even more confusing was that Alastor was staring at you, without blinking.
“ Don’t be ashamed, you can cry. I… I think I want you to cry.” he looked confused even with his smile. You didn’t know why but you began to cry as Alastor was observing you. You didn’t know what was happening and it was kind of scary but maybe Alastor was asking you to cry because he couldn’t cry? You thought about his bruises on his belly and cried louder. You were scared. You opened your eyes to see Alastor’s face closer than a moment ago.
“ You…–”
“Alastor.”
Alastor flinched as he tored his gaze from you and looked in the voice’s direction. You tried to look behind you but he kept you against him, hugging you. You sniffed but didn’t move. Who was that?
“ Father.”
“ Why is this chick crying ? For God’s sake, what have you done boy?”
“ The cat scratched her.”
“ This stupid cat… I’ll shoot it next time.”
And just like that, the man entered inside Marie’s house, shouting about his arrival and that he was hungry. You searched Alastor’s eyes but he hid your eyes once again with his hands.
“ Never cry in front of this man.”
You just nodded.
~~~
Marie was cleaning your cut while your mother was petting your hair, saying that you were a brave girl because you weren’t crying. You couldn’t help but look at the man, sitting on the sofa with a glass of… whiskey was it? Alastor was sitting next to you but his smile seemed so tense.
“ I think it’s time for us to go home, I wouldn’t want to go back when it’s too dark.” Your mother said as she stood up. Marie did the same and you turned toward Alastor. You whispered into his ear.
“ I’ve made pizza with my mother. I hope you will like it.” He looked at you as you gave him a happy smile. He took your uninjured hand in his and dragged you to the kitchen. He looked around to be sure that nobody was here then, he took a knife and took your plate. He began to cut two pieces of pizza and offered you one piece. You smiled at him and began to eat the pizza that your mother and yourself made. You stared at Alastor as he munched, looking at the food in his hand. He looked at you and smiled softly.
“ It’s good.” you beamed at his answer. “ Next time, I’ll cook for you.”
You hurriedly finished your food before going toward your mother who was calling for you. You kissed Alastor on the cheek and waited for Marie’s bise. You waved them goodbye and left with your mother.
~ ~ ~
You were staring at your ceiling, in your bed. You were supposed to be sleeping but your thoughts were too loud to be able to fall asleep. You sighed and looked at your injured hand. Why did Alastor want to see you cry? Why did he not want you to cry in front of his father? You huffed, next weekend, you’ll ask him. And if he doesn't you will hit him with a pillow.
Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova
#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#alastor headcanons#alastor scenario#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagine#alastor x you#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fluff#fanfiction#fanfic
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okayyy so…. been thinking about jesus reid with his cane lately and i was wondering if you could do a little blurb where spencer is having trouble…. finishing, maybe cuz of his leg (idk how that would work but like) and spencer’s getting all frustrated so coworker!reader offers to help him out and he’s all whiny n shit 🤭
nsfw | mdni
i can imagine this being like he rarely ever has any free time so he tries to get off when he takes a shower but standing for too long hurts his leg. so he went to work without being able to get off. i hope you guys enjoy!! this is fem!reader btw as all of my works are!
warnings: nsfw content, blowjob, female reader, whiny spencer
—————————-
when spencer came into work looking defeated, you immediately knew that something was wrong. you weren’t quite sure as to what it was. but as the genius doctor walked with his cane, you just assumed it was likely to be his leg bothering him. you had felt bad at the fact that he had been shot in the leg and was suffering through walking with a cane. and judging by the look on his face, the one of frustration and annoyance, you could tell it was most certainly his leg that was bothering him.
it was one of those rare days when there wasn’t a case and so the only work to do is paperwork or reading up on old case files. your desk was right next to spencer’s as you looked at your computer to check your emails. you glanced over at spencer, who was reading an old file. he was biting the inside of his cheek as his finger followed along the text, his hair falling to his cheeks. he looked tense and you couldn’t help but speak up.
“spence?” you asked, looking at the genius.
spencer looked up from the file to look at you. “yes?” he replied softly. his voice was usually soft spoken and you loved that about him.
“are you okay?” you asked with a concerned look in your eye. “you’ve seemed frustrated and annoyed all day,” you added.
spencer took a deep breath, stretching his arms. “i-i mean for the most part i am,” he exclaimed, “it’s just this damn leg. it’s been…a hassle really.”
“have you been elevating it?” you asked, tilting your head at your coworker.
“when i can,” he said with a small smile. your concern for him softened his frustrated demeanor. “it’s hard though, alone at home. especially because i have to do everything myself,” he said, licking his lips and running a hand through his hair. “i-uh barely have time to…take care of myself, and when i do, it hurts to stand on my leg for that long,” he whispered nervously, not knowing how you’d react to him.
“take care of yourself how?”
spencer’s cheeks reddened. “i uh you know what? it’s not appropriate, i’m sorry i mentioned anything at all. let’s just not talk about it, yeah?” he said, going back to looking at the file.
your eyes widened as you realized what spencer had meant. you quickly composed yourself, clearing your throat and going back to what you were doing. though with the redness of your own cheeks, it was obvious to tell that his words had some sort of effect on you.
the day went by without anymore conversation with you and spencer which bothered you a bit. it most certainly had felt awkward after that. though you couldn’t help but think about the idea of spencer trying to get himself off, jerking himself off. it was likely he did it most in the shower judging by how this job has early days and very late nights.
today, being the rare day that it was, everyone had gone home at 5:30 PM. when you had gone home, your thoughts were still on spencer. wet, long hair clinging to his skin as he leans on his bathroom wall, looking down at his cock, jerking himself off. you could imagine just how hard it was to stand that long on his leg, especially since you doubted he brought his cane into the shower with him.
around 8:00 PM, you decided it was time to be a good friend and help spencer with his issue.
you knocked on the door of spencer’s apartment. you stood there a bit anxiously, biting your lip as you waited for him to answer. you were wearing the clothes you had worn to work, a black pencil skirt and a red blouse. your hair was down. after a few minutes, you heard the tapping of spencer’s cane before it stopped and he opened the door. his eyes widened as he saw you, not expecting you to be at his apartment.
spencer was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a FBI sweatshirt. you licked your lips nervously, looking at spencer. “oh!” he exclaimed. “y/n, what are you-“ he cleared his throat as he realized his voice was a bit too high. “what are you doing here?”
you took a deep breath. there was no backing down now. “can i come in?” you asked, looking at spencer. he moved to the side, allowing you to come into his apartment. you stepped inside and he closed the door behind you.
he walked over to the couch, taking a seat. you looked around the apartment before you turned to look at your coworker. “so,” you began. “when you told me, you’d been…struggling,” you continued, “i thought perhaps…i could help you.”
“w-what?” he stuttered, looking at you with his beautiful big brown eyes.
you walked over to spencer, your heels clicking on the wooden floor, before you kneels in front of him, between his legs. “i-i could help you if you let me,” you said softly, looking up at him. you put your hands on spencer’s thighs.
spencer licked his lips, looking down at you with a look you’ve not seen before. you could tell that your words had an effect on him, judging by the fact that he was already semi-hard in his sweatpants. “i-is this real?” he whispered.
you nodded your head. “yes,” you whispered back.
“i-if we do this, it’ll effect our whole dynamic,” he whispered, reaching a hand to move your hair out of your face.
you looked up at him, biting your lip. “i want you, spence,” you exclaimed softly. “and you need help. i want to help you,” you said as you moved your hand higher. you began palming him through his sweatpants, causing spencer to moan softly. “can i help you?”
spencer nodded his head, bucking his hips into your hand. “yes,” he said shakily. “please.”
you let out a breath of relief as spencer had given you. you put your hand on the hem of his sweatpants, pulling them down enough to reveal his cock. spencer let out a gasp from the cool air on his cock. it was red and angry, a signal that he hadn’t had relief in a while. his cock was long but not girthy. about seven inches or so in length. you smiled slightly, looking at spencer’s reddened face as he looked down at you.
you gave his cock an experimental tug, causing him to let out a small whimper. the sound was like heaven to your ears. the genius fbi profiler had been reduced to a whimpering mess by a simple tug of his cock. and it was powerful.
you lowered your head, giving the tip an experimental lick. spencer let out a shaky moan, bringing a hand to your hair. you slowly eased your mouth onto his length, stopping about halfway before going back up. your mouth moved up and down slowly, creating a rhythm as spencer whined and moaned, bucking his hips into your mouth.
it was all very new. you’ve of course done this before with other partners. but to do this with your coworker, someone you’ve had a crush on since you began at the BAU, it’s most certainly surreal. and clearly, spencer needed the help. so really you were just being a dedicated coworker.
“oh-oh fuck,” spencer moaned as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking his cock a bit faster. “feels so good,” he whined, closing his eyes in pleasure and throwing his head back. his fingers were entangled in your hair as you sucked him off, tugging at your hair gently. “mm!” he moaned. you hadn’t expected spencer to be so vocal but you didn’t mind it at all. it sent pools of arousal to your cunt, soaking your panties.
spencer began thrusting his hips into your mouth, unable to help himself from doing so and you allowed him to. what you were doing was for him. and if he wanted to use you for his pleasure, you were more than allowing him to do so. “oh my god,” he groaned, thrusting his hips up into you. “your mouth feels so good, y/n,” he said as he opened his eyes to look down at you. your messed up hair, your glistening eyes looking up at spencer, you were absolutely gorgeous.
spencer felt his cock stiffening as the heat in his abdomen grew bigger. he let out a loud trail of, “oh fuck, oh fuck, i’m so close, oh fuck.” he was about to pull out of your mouth but instead, you kept him in your mouth, sucking him off to completion. spencer let out a whine as he began cumming into your mouth with ropes. “oh my god,” he said, shuttering as his load shot down your throat. and being the good girl that you were, you swallowed greedily.
when spencer finished, you pulled off of his cock, leaving a trail of saliva and cum. spencer was breathing heavily, looking at you with a look of lust and gratefulness. he caressed your cheek, running a thumb across your bottom lip before bringing it up to his own mouth and licking it. “thank you,” he murmured to you, grabbing your hand to pull you onto his lap. you were careful to not hurt his leg at all.
“anytime,” you murmured back.
“i think i should show you how thankful i am,” he said before kissing your lips hungrily. and that kiss began a night of immense pleasure to the both of you.
it was safe to say that the two of you were no longer just coworkers anymore.
#minsasks#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds smut#spencer criminal minds#criminals minds x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid#spencer reid x fem!reader#🌸 — min’s asks#spencerasks
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“While I hope that isn’t your intention, staring any harder at the fire won’t make it any stronger. No matter how accomplished you may be.”
You feel the muscles in your brows relax in the dark of the night. Interesting, that. Considering how you don’t recall them furrowing so tightly in the first place.
Hearing the scratch of shoes against stone, you feel him make himself more apparent, as he always did. Moving to stand beside you. Not resting his eyes upon your visage just yet. Choosing to study the dying embers you must have been glaring at in front of you.
He takes quite an awful amount of time in doing so, too. Whatever thought you might have been thinking about long gone from your grasp as his presence unnerves you.
You feel your hands clenching and unclenching to alleviate yourself.
Yet the very air around him still makes your head swim, and your blood boil.
He takes a deep breath, as if steeling his resolve, before turning to look at you.
“What’s on your mind?”
“Cut the shit, Dekarios. What do you want?”
He shudders at the use of his name, but raises his hand up in false surrender. Gesticulating with his arms and hands as much as he did when you last saw him this close up.
“I mean no harm, and I see no point in denying to remedy whatever rift may have come between us.” He motions to the both of you, as he speaks.
“Come now,” he moves to lessen your distance, but you only turn to keep facing the dying campfire as he continues.
“Surely whatever schoolyard taunts and transgressions exchanged aren’t worth jeopardizing our efforts in our search for a cure, hm?” There’s a hopeful lilt at the end in his voice. He looks almost sincerely apologetic as continues on. Words, lacking their usual garrulous nature, as if keeping things short and simple would appease you.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was apologizing out of the goodness of his heart.
“And who told you to apologize this time? Was it our fiery friend, or ‘The Blade of Frontiers?’ Or perhaps even our closest confidante; Astarion?” He raises a finger up with a confused expression to counter, but you beat him to it.
“With all due respect, Mr. Dekarios, we can go on our merry little way without discussing this.” You still refuse to look at him as you settle on admiring your nails for a change of scenery.
“Perhaps we’ll find some other fortune altogether and be rid of our parasites in the mornings that follow! And our little truce will matter not once we part ways and we both return to where we belong.” You finally move towards your tent to close your conversation, but Gale seems to ignore the implication as he follows you.
“You can finally return home to your beloved tower in Waterdeep, and I will be happily rotting in my little hovel.” You make one final tilt of the head to look at him, as if turning your whole body would be too much of an effort or grace to bestow upon him.
“Good night, sir Archmage.” You huff out as you disappear into the flaps of your tent without even letting your old classmate a chance to retaliate.
He stares incredulously at the still swishing material of your sanctuary. He releases a heavy sigh that built up in him and walked back to his own space in the camp to stew in his thoughts.
His eyes catching on the spyglass that he set up right outside his tent with disappointment.
If things had gone pleasantly, he would’ve asked you to observe the stars with him, as they were clearer to see from here than in Baldur’s Gate.
He distantly recalls you wanting for one during your academy days as the view from your little hovel, as he once called it, was rather murky. What with all the factories in the area.
He takes one last look at your tent from his and shakes his head.
It eludes him why you’re so hostile around him.
And even more so when you’re nowhere near this way around the others. He figured you two would be closer, given your shared interests and trade.
Hells, he even admired you all those years ago. Watching you accomplish so much, despite many difficulties. He wonders if you’ve ever respected him in the same way.
He sees Wyll looking at him, and he shakes his head to tell him that he doesn’t feel like talking. Entering his own tent to turn in for the night.
Hoping for any good that the gods can afford them come first light.
#bg3 x reader#I’m clearly not meant to write anymore#but I needed something like this out there at least#somebody please do a better job than me#gale dekarios x reader#bg3#Gale x reader#gale of waterdeep x reader#gale of waterdeep x tav#gale dekarios x tav#gale x tav#gale of waterdeep#Gale dekarios#gale bg3#bg3 gale#bg3 gale x tav#bg3 gale x reader#wizard rivalry?#wizard shit or something
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This Is Me Trying
Part 3 of the "Anyone Else But You" series
Pairing: Huening Kai x Reader
Summary: Being friends with Huening Kai would be much simpler if he didn’t give you butterflies all the time.
Tropes: enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, fluff, angst, stylist!reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: swearing, reader is insecure, mentions of death
A/N: I made a Spotify playlist for this fic if anybody wants to give it a listen hehe <3
“Remember how I used to be so
Stuck in one place, so cold?
Feeling like my heart just froze
Nowhere to go with no one, nobody”
—Magic, TXT
When the weekend comes around, you’re worried that you’ve hallucinated the entire situation, but when Kai knocks on your front door, he looks good. Really good.
“I–I like your outfit,” you say, taking note of the details. “It’s different from how you usually dress.”
“Yeonjun helped me pick stuff out. He said you’d like this.” Kai spins, allowing you to take in the full ensemble. He’s ditched his usual skater boy attire for a button down, slacks, and a chocolate brown wool coat that matches the color of his eyes.
“You didn’t have to dress up for me,” you say, shaking your head.
“Of course I did. You’re the coolest looking person I know.” Has he always thought that? “I don’t know how you do it every day, though. We probably spent hours picking out just this one look.”
“Every Sunday, I plan my outfits for the week. Sometimes it takes the whole day if I’m not feeling too creative.”
“That sounds stressful.”
“It is.”
“Why do you do it, then? I mean, you always look good, but does it make you feel good?”
You blink back at him. Nobody has ever asked you anything like this. You have no idea how to respond.
Kai can tell that he’s struck a nerve. “Sorry. I just meant that if it stresses you out, you shouldn’t feel pressured to do it all the time. There’s a lot to like about you besides how you dress.”
“Right. Should we get going?” you ask, fiddling with the hem of your cardigan. Suddenly you feel overdressed.
“Let’s do it,” he smiles.
All you can think about on the walk over to the concert hall is whether or not this is a date. It feels like a date. He’s dressed like it’s one.
He said he wanted to be friends, you remind yourself. Still, when he accidentally drifts close to you and your shoulders brush, you can feel your face heat up.
You sit together on the steps of the concert hall, people watching and pointing out your favorite and least favorite outfits.
“I like her hat,” Kai says, pointing to a toddler walking hand in hand with her mom. She’s wearing a fluffy beanie with bear ears.
“Maybe I can convince the team to let you wear one on stage,” you think out loud. “It would be really cute for a concert.”
“That would be so awesome, Y/N! But I don’t want you to think about work right now. Let’s just have fun today.”
“I’m always thinking about work,” you admit. “I’ve thought about clothes every second of my life for what seems like forever now.”
“You aren’t that old,” he points out.
“I’m one year older than you,” you remind him. He skipped the birthday party that Yeonjun threw for you last winter.
“Okay, I take it back,” he surrenders. “You’re old and should look into retirement soon.”
You know he’s just joking, but you can’t help but think that he’s right. Maybe you shouldn’t focus so much on what everybody is wearing all the time, yourself included.
“Y/N,” Kai says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You jerk your head up.
“I used to play in an orchestra,” you blurt out, instantly regretting answering a question that was never asked. Still, you have Kai’s full attention, and the point of this is for the two of you to get to know each other. “I, uh, I played the viola, but I wasn’t very good at it.”
“That’s so cool! I play the piano!” You already know that. Everybody does, but you appreciate how he seems to have forgotten that he’s world famous. “We should do a duet sometime! MOA would love it.”
“Uh, I’m not sure MOA would love seeing you with a girl,” you deflect. You’ve seen what dating scandals can do to someone’s career.
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he agrees. You watch the cogs inside his head spin before a lightbulb goes off. “Maybe we can set Taehyun up with a fake one on Academy Reincarnation and you can play in the background. ”
“That… actually sounds pretty funny.”
“Ooh, Y/N, thinks I’m funny,” he muses, before turning away to face the busy square. “Seoul! Y/N thinks I’m funny!”
“Shh!” you laugh, cupping your hand over his mouth. You are not mentally prepared to deal with any crazed fangirls tonight. “We have to go inside, now.”
Before you can overthink it, Kai grabs your hand and the two of you rush inside, greeted by marble floors and draped velvets. It’s the most beautiful place you’ve ever seen.
“Wow,” you sigh, taking the entire lobby in. “You know, I haven’t been here since I was a little girl. My mom would bring me here all the time. She played the piano like you. I always wanted to take after her, but I have trouble forming chords.”
“I can give you lessons, if you want,” he offers. “I have a keyboard in my room back at home.”
“I’d like that,” you smile back. You try not to read too much into being invited into his bedroom.
“Why don’t you and your mom go to concerts anymore?” Kai asks, hoping that it isn’t too personal a question. His anxiety grows exponentially as you take your time responding.
“She passed away when I was nine,” you say calmly. It doesn’t hurt you to tell people anymore. “I wanted to come because today is actually her birthday. My dad is really sensitive about it, though, so it was just going to be me. But I’m really glad you’re here.”
“Oh… Y/N, I’m really sorry. I didn’t know. I don’t know what I’d do without my mom.” He stares at his shoes, guilt written all over his face. “I could’ve made things more special for you.”
“Don’t worry, Kai. It already is special,” you say, squeezing his hand in reassurance. “My mom would probably be happy to see me coming here with someone who loves the piano just as much as she did.”
His face relaxes again, and he does very little to stop himself from grinning ear to ear.
After you take your seats in the back of the balcony and the lights begin to dim, a strange sense of calm overtakes you.
Despite being in a crowd of strangers, sitting next to Kai in the dark and listening to the hum of strings as they warm up makes you feel like you’re the only two people in the world.
Midway through the concert, you realize he’s still holding your hand. Maybe he’s like this with all of his friends, considering you’ve seen him and Soobin skipping down the halls hand in hand on multiple occasions. Still, you hope he never lets go.
—————-
Even though it’s technically your job, it’s a rare occasion where you actually get to dress the boys. Today, all hands are on deck for the filming of their upcoming album’s concept trailer.
“I can’t believe they’re making you wear a white sweater,” you sigh, holding up Kai’s outfit for the Dreamer sequence. “Everybody else gets such cute colors.”
“At least I get to stand out,” he grins, always looking on the bright side. He’s already got on his eyepatch, but it’s a little crooked. You walk over to fix it.
“Hold still,” you say, adjusting it into place and smoothing his hair down. “There we go.”
“Was I better this time?” he asks. You look up at him in confusion.
“What?” His face is so close to yours that you can feel his breath.
“I didn’t move this time. That night at the club,” he explains, “Well, you were telling me the story of when we first met. How I flinched and walked away and it hurt your feelings.”
“Oh. Yeah, you were much better this time.”
“I’m glad. I’ll try to be good for you, Y/N. I’m really sorry about before. I feel like I really wasted our time being so… weird. We could’ve been friends much earlier.”
“It’s okay, Kai, really,” you say, stepping back and handing him his sweater.
“It’s not, Y/N. It was silly of me to be so nervous around you.”
“You were nervous?”
“I guess you don’t remember that part of the conversation either, huh?” he asks, pulling his t-shirt off. You’ve seen the rest of the group shirtless before, but Kai usually goes into the bathroom to change whenever you’re around.
Your cheeks flush as you stare at his smooth skin and his broad shoulders.
“Uh, Y/N?” he says. While you were checking him out, Kai managed to get himself stuck. “I think my shirt is caught on my necklace. Can you help?”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you say, working gently to untangle the fabric around his neck. You can feel how warm his chest is, reminding you of riding in the taxi on his lap. Eventually, you’re able to get him freed.
“Thank you,” Kai smiles. “I’m really glad you’re here. Everybody else is always rushing me.”
“I might get in trouble if you don’t hurry up, Hyuka.” You’ve never called him by a nickname before. It’s foreign to think about, but somehow rolls naturally off your tongue.
“Fine, okay, I’m ready,” he says, pulling the sweater on. The color actually compliments him really well. “Do you need to add any finishing touches?”
“Hmm, spin around,” you say, twirling your finger. Kai does his signature penguin stance and waddles in a circle, making you giggle. “No, you look cute.”
Your eyes widen as you realize what you’ve just said.
“You think I’m cute,” he smiles, doing a little happy dance. “Ooh, I’m the cutest boy in the world, huh?”
“Hey! I said you look cute,” you assert, crossing your arms in an attempt to play it off. He’s right, but you don’t want him to know that.
“Close enough,” he says, grabbing his crown off of the makeup table. “I should go. I’ll see you later. You’re the best!”
He pulls you into a hug, nearly lifting you off the ground. When you’re back on your feet, he presses a quick kiss to your cheek and leaves the dressing room. Yeonjun does it all the time, but it feels different coming from Kai.
Your hand moves to your cheek, lingering on the spot where his lips touched. Fuck. You might actually be falling for Huening Kai.
—————-
For the past two months, you and Kai have alternated picking out activities to do together. Last week, you taught him how to make banana bread. He almost set your apartment on fire.
Today, he’s invited you to his place to practice playing the piano.
You’re more nervous than you need to be. It’s your first time in his bedroom, but it’s completely innocent.
Except when you’re sitting on the piano bench together, knees and shoulders pressed against each other, and he’s got his hands placed over yours to help guide you, you feel butterflies in your stomach. That’s not how people who are just friends feel.
You’ve come too far to throw it all away over a stupid crush. He’s simply much too out of your league. Still, while he’s busy explaining chord progressions, you’re staring at how long his eyelashes are and how cute he looks when he’s wearing his glasses.
“Are you even listening to me?” Kai asks, pouting. “I thought you wanted to learn, Y/N!”
“I do!” you lie. “I am very interested in what you’re saying right now.”
“What did I even say?” He crosses his arms and furrows his brow in fake anger.
“Um…” you start. You know you’ve been caught. “I’m sorry. I was distracted.”
His face shifts to worry. “Is something wrong?”
“No! Nothing’s wrong. Let’s keep going,” you say, flipping through his binder of sheet music. “Oh, I love this song!”
You had never expected him to have the piano score to Night Changes by One Direction, but you aren’t complaining. In a way, TXT’s dynamic reminds you a lot of the long gone boy group.
“This song is kind of like us,” he notes. You shoot him a confused look. It’s a love song, after all.
“What do you mean by that?” you ask, your palms now sweaty.
“I just think it’s kind of crazy how things changed between us.” That’s not really what the song is about, but you’re not going to tell him that. “I’m glad we’re friends now.”
“Oh, yeah, super crazy,” you say, exhaling. “I’m glad we’re friends too.”
“Y/N?” he asks, his face close to yours. Is he about to do what you think he is?
“Yes?”
“You have an eyelash on your face.” He brushes a finger across your cheek and holds up the lost lash with a smile. “Make a wish.”
You blow it away, vowing to never let him know that what you asked for was him.
“I have to tell you something,” you confess. “I don’t actually want to learn how to play the piano. I’d rather just listen to you play.”
“Oh,” he says, pleasantly surprised. “I can do that. Should I serenade you, too, m’lady?”
“Yes, please,” you giggle. His goofy side is such a nice departure from the gloomy, quiet Kai you were used to.
You’ve heard this song probably hundreds of times, but Kai’s version feels brand new. As you watch his fingers dance across the keys and listen to his soft voice, the lyrics begin to seem like they were written just for the two of you.
—————-
Taglist: @orangesodafoam @deezbutz28 @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @iyeeeverydee @internet-folks @darlingz99 @foxyjun @stardustmooncakes @giaalorine @beomgyubabybear @niningtori @goquokka @csbenthusiast @moarmyjkhk @lizdevorak @sooberryworld @lonelybutterflytae @midnight-mochii @theresawtf @nowadays56 @jjklvr9
P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist!
#hueningkai x reader#hueningkai#huening txt#txt#tomorrow x together#txt imagines#txt fic#txt hyuka#hyuka x reader#txt x reader#txt fluff#txt angst#hueningkai fluff#hueningkai angst#hueningkai imagines
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Indecent Proposal (17)
Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.
Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader
Characters: Natasha Romanoff, Jake Jensen
Warnings: established Stucky, caring mobsters, pregnant reader, fluff, implied needy reader and Bucky, candy theft, polyamory
Indecent Proposal (16)
Indecent Proposal masterlist
Two months after Bucky and Steve found out about Rumlow’s plan to get information about them using the nurse, said man disappeared.
No one cared about Brock Rumlow's disappearance. One day, he left town and never got seen again.
People may think Steve and Bucky took care of the annoying thorn in their flesh, but the truth is that they didn’t touch one hair on his head.
“Still nothing?” Bucky watches Natasha stuff the money he brought to her into her bag. Another good investment for the mobster, money for her retirement to Natasha. “Be honest, Nat. Did you take care of him?”
“I told Rumlow that his little stunt with the nurse went too far. He had the order to stay away from your…” she wrinkles her forehead still not understanding your relationship with the mobsters. “Fiancé.”
“We didn’t kill him,” Steve pushes off the wall to look at the pictures on Natasha’s desk. “Even though, we planned on taking him down. Rumlow had it coming.”
Natasha frowns deeply. “If none of us took him down… What happened to him? This doesn’t make sense at all.”
“What if he fucked with the wrong people over?” Bucky scratches his scruffy chin, wondering if the man obsessed with him and Steve annoyed the wrong person. “We can’t be the only people he messed with.”
“I don’t know,” Natasha sighs and rubs her tired eyes. “He’s a good cop.” She rolls her eyes when Steve makes a retching noise. “Believe it or not, he’s not a complete psycho. Rumlow is good at his job. I don’t know what you did to make him lose his mind.”
“We did shit to your little buddy,” Steve grunts. “If someone made him disappear, I owe him one. This way, I didn’t have to get my hands dirty.”
“This must be very funny to you, Rogers,” Natasha wrinkles her nose. “He was a good man and a good cop. It’s too bad he got lost in your web.”
“We didn’t lure him in,” Bucky snaps at Natasha. He glares at her, making sure she knows they did come here to chat. “One day your friend decided he must bring me and Steve down. Does he even know that we maintain peace? No one dares to harm citizens since we took over the throne.”
“I get it,” she huffs. “You are the kings of your kingdom of shit.”
“Careful—” Steve snarls at the redhead. “Our fathers build this kingdom with blood and terror,” the blonde steps closer to Natasha, sizing her up. “Bucky and I changed the old ways. We took their empire and changed it for the better.”
“What do we do about Rumlow now? If he’s dead, people will start asking questions. It’s no secret that he was obsessed with us.”
“I will try to keep you out of this,” Natasha steps away from Steve. She doesn’t want to rile him up even more.
“You’ll keep us up to date,” Steve points his index finger at the redhead. “We need to know every detail of his disappearance…”
“Doll, what are you doing,” Steve laughs. You threatened to cut Bucky’s cock off because he dared to steal a chocolate bar from your secret stash.
“He stole from me!” You pout. “Bucky stole my favorite chocolate bar. It was the last one with hazelnut.” Faking a sob, you look at Steve. “You should scold him.”
“I was hungry after you wanted a taste of Bucky,” the brunette grins. “And you got a whole drawer filled with the sweets. Candies, chocolate bars, all the good stuff. Steve, she’s got a sweet tooth.”
“Not only a sweet tooth,” Steve smirks. “She’s a naughty little minx too.”
“Hey! I’m not little,” you kneel on the bed to glare at Steve. Not months ago, you trembled in fear in front of Steve, and now you talk back and tease the mobster. “You better watch your tongue, or I won’t show you the latest ultrasound picture!”
Bucky watches you and his husband bicker. He smirks and chuckles. The brunette leans back and enjoys the show. “Steve, she’s getting cocky. What will you do about it?”
Steve cocks a brow. His features darken and he smirks at you. “I will spank her cute ass if she gets even cockier.”
You laugh at Steve’s words. He wouldn’t dare put his hands on you. Both men are deadly and strong, but with you, they are soft and gentle. Even if you are a brat and a needy slut sometimes.
“The doctor will be here in half an hour,” Bucky stretches his legs and yawns. It was a long day. Jensen and Bucky tried to find out more about Rumlow’s disappearance over the last hours. “Let’s not fight over stolen candy.”
“I did not forget you stole from my stash, punk!” You poke your index finger into Bucky’s thigh. “You are on thin ice, Sir.”
“Sir, huh?” Bucky licks his lips. “Steve, how long until the doctor arrives.” He looks at his husband.
“Buck. No,” Steve shakes his head. “Last time the doctor almost caught us red-handed.”
“Hmmm…good times,” you nod and sigh dreamily. “Very good times.”
“Your fiancé is healthy,” the doctor murmurs while scribbling down a few notes, “everything looks good. There is nothing to be worried about.” He looks up from his notes. “We should talk about the results of the ultrasound we took today now.”
He clears his throat and looks at you. The elderly man gives you a soft smile. “Can I tell them?”
The doctor chuckles now. “Of course, my dear.”
“Alright,” you clap your hands before grinning at Steve. “I will blow your mind.”
“Please tell me she’s not pregnant with a Tasmanian devil,” Steve mirrors your smirk. “I bet she is. It would explain her bratty behavior.”
“Stevie, let Y/N talk. I wanna know what she wants to talk about,” Bucky grabs your hand. Anytime you have an ultrasound examination he turns into a softie. “Go ahead doll. We are listening.”
You take a deep breath. Suddenly you’re a little nervous. “I-doctor can you tell them?” You chicken out and drop your gaze.
“Fuck! Is something wrong with the baby?” Steve presses one hand to his heart. “Please tell us.”
“Doll…” Bucky holds your hand a little tighter. The usual tough man looks helplessly at his husband. “Stevie?”
“The baby and your fiancé are healthy,” the doctor hastily says. “We got no bad news for you. It’s rather, good news for you and your fiancé, gentlemen.”
“Good news,” Bucky nods at Steve. “Did you hear…good news. Phew.” He sighs deeply. “Thank fuck.”
“What is the good news?” Steve rumbles. He stares at your swollen belly, awaiting an answer. “Doctor?”
You take a deep breath and look at both men. You don’t know if the news is good to them or not. “We—we are having twins!”
#steve rogers#bucky barnes#stucky#stucky x reader#pregnant reader#stucky x fem#stucky x female reader#female reader#stucky x y#Indecent Proposal (17)
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(Translation) Gilbert's Beast Manual
His POV Story
The final installment in Gilbert's current party event.
Spoilers. I'm not a translator, I just throw stuff into online translators, so expect errors. Case 1 | Case 2 | Case 3 (I recommend you read these beforehand for the full experience.)
Please be aware that this installment contains some heavier emotional content as well as sexual content later on—MDNI. As a final note, I recommend you have read Gilbert's proposal event beforehand. Just in case. (Technically I'd also recommend you have read his physical exam event too, but not to the same degree.)
—
I couldn't tell the little rabbit the real reason I had her accompany me on official business.
I'd most certainly earn a scolding and remonstration if I did.
I felt like I wanted to be scolded at least once though, since the little rabbit was the only one who could truly rebuke the conquering beast. However...
"I want the little rabbit to be able to survive in Obsidian even if by some chance I were no longer here."
Those were not words I could simply tell her, because I knew just how devastating they would be for her.
(That being said, today's been worse than ever.)
Crimes of the older generations continuing to go unchecked, signs of rampant bribery within the military...
The little rabbit's beautiful eyes were exposed to so many of these things.
(What is it about this country that when one rotten thing disappears, three more take its place?)
(Maybe everyone's got a death-wish. Yet they still beg for their lives once they're weeded out.)
(...It's incomprehensible to me. If only they'd all just die to save me the trouble.)
Emma: Gil, are we done with official business for the day?
My darkening thoughts must have breached containment; as the little rabbit walked beside me she entwined her fingers with mine.
Her warm hand permeated the cruelty staining across my heart.
Gilbert: I don't have any plans, but is there anything you'd like to do?
Emma: Is it alright if I come to your room? I feel like your bookshelves are calling for me.
Gilbert: Of course it's alright.
(...You probably have a lot to think over.)
Her face only spelled out joy. There was no deceit to be found.
She didn't change her usual demeanor, not even when faced with an irritable beast.
(I've known Walter and Roderic for a long time and even they're prone to checking my complexion on days like this.)
Of course that certainly didn't mean she hadn't noticed a thing.
In fact, the little rabbit, with her keen insight into other people's emotions, should have already pinpointed mine.
[flashback to Case 1]
Gilbert: Anyhow... was it written on my face?
Emma: ...Yeah, it was.
Gilbert: Hehe, well that's no good.
Emma: Isn't that what I'm here for?
Emma: To help give you even a little peace of mind?
[end flashback]
(That's what you said this morning, right?)
(...Truly, you're so gallant for a baby rabbit.)
The little rabbit immediately leapt at the books once she arrived in my room.
Although she'd probably learned by now that concentrating on the books alone would make this troublesome beast very jealous.
So she picked out only one before walking over to the bed and sitting down beside that beast.
Gilbert: ...What's this? Political science?
Emma: I felt like doing some studying today.
(Oh, I see...)
(Someone with a truly pure heart doesn't get tainted after experiencing filth. But rather, they lament their own helplessness.)
(...That's just so like the old me.)
A young boy who'd once learned about corruption and then tried desperately to change the status quo.
And after he'd finished reading all the books available within the country, he'd asked a book dealer to regularly procure ones from other places so he could vigilantly instill the knowledge into himself.
That was back when I'd still foolishly believed that no matter how corrupt a person was, there was an alternative to killing them as long as you engaged with them sincerely.
(Things didn't work out so nicely in the real world though.)
(...But I want the little rabbit to stay like this, just as she is.)
Gilbert: [smiling as he watches her read] ...
Emma: ...
Gilbert: ......
Emma: ......Gil.
The little rabbit looked up from her book, appearing as though she might cry.
Emma: Are there any easier political science books?
Gilbert: Ahaha... I knew it.
Gilbert: The book you're holding is so philosophical that even I found it difficult to understand.
Gilbert: Would you like me to recommend something aimed at beginners?
Emma: Yes, please, if you wouldn't mind!
Gilbert: And what should you do when begging me?
Without hesitation, the little rabbit placed her hands my shoulders and kissed my cheek.
Emma: ...Please, Gil.
Gilbert: It's boring if you do the same thing you always do.
Emma: Then how about...
When I sensed her trying to bite my ear, I pulled back.
Gilbert: Really now... So that's what you're gonna do.
Emma: Aren't you always biting my ear? It's a show of my affection.
Gilbert: But you're already aware though, of how sensitive my ears are?
Emma: ...
Gilbert: Oh, I almost forgot. I still have to discipline you.
Emma: ...W-what are you talking about?
Gilbert: Are you playing innocent? You still haven't made up for sneaking medicine into my food during lunch.
Emma: Um, I did make up for it!? Didn't you have your fun teasing me for it?
Gilbert: That was just a bit of playing around. You see, my real punishment—
I grabbed the little rabbit's hand as she tried to run and forced her onto the bed in a roll.
Just like that I gathered her wrists above her head and bound them with a nearby cloth.
(I hadn't really planned to do something like this...)
(But the little rabbit's been a bad girl, so I've got no choice.)
Emma: I was... going to study...
Gilbert: I'll have a beginner's book picked out for you by tomorrow.
Gilbert: Or rather, if you're interested, I can teach you myself? After all, training people is my forte.
I undid the collar of her dress and ran my fingers directly over her bare skin.
The little rabbit's cheeks turned as red as the sunset when I placed my hand over her breasts.
Emma: But don't you have things to do, Gil?
Gilbert: It's up to me how I choose to use my limited time.
Gilbert: You really don't have to be so overly anxious. If I can't manage, I'll say so.
(Although there's nothing that should be getting higher priority over the little rabbit's requests.)
The little rabbit started rubbing her legs together as I caressed her over and over again.
Purposely ignoring her mounting frustration was, of course, all part of the plan.
Emma: In that case... Thank you, Gil.
Gilbert: You've certainly got funny tastes to be saying thank you at a time like this.
Emma: That's not what I mean... mn... ah...
She suddenly let out a lewd cry when I lightly poked the hardened tip of her breast.
Emma: This afternoon, too, you...
Gilbert: I let you have your release right away this afternoon, didn't I? I wouldn't call that a punishment.
Emma: ...
Gilbert: It's no use being wistful either.
When I turned up the hem of her dress, I didn't even have to touch her to uncover the stain on her underwear.
Just a light swipe up the thin fabric and my fingertips came away damp.
Gilbert: Now then, you're going to have to suffer a lot.
Emma: ...At least... let me take my clothing off please.
Emma: I can't bear to... ruin the dress you made for me.
(Jeez, you truly are...)
Gilbert: I'm not listening to you.
Emma: Ah...
I thrust my fingers into her wetness as if I was trying to scrape out every last drop of nectar.
The dress pinned underneath her quickly became sullied.
Emma: Gil... mn...
Gilbert: If the dress gets dirty, you'll be just be reminded of something embarrassing whenever you put it on, won't you?
Gilbert: This is punishment, so you've got to resign yourself and accept it.
Emma: .......You're so mean.
Gilbert: And who exactly do you think I am?
(For the world's greatest villain to let you off with meanness and nothing else... that just means you're special.)
After the punishment, the little rabbit, thoroughly sullied, headed for the bath.
I honestly wanted to chase after her, but there was still work to be done today.
Roderic: Pardon me, sir.
Gilbert: I figured you'd come.
When I got to my office desk, Roderic immediately selected a document from the stack and handed it to me.
Roderic: ...I thought I might be turned away.
Gilbert: I'm in a good mood right now so I'll forgive you.
Roderic: That's surprising. I thought a storm would have been raging these past few days.
Gilbert: Ahaha, everyone has the little rabbit to thank for that.
Roderic: ...They can't thank her enough.
Gilbert: Neither can I.
I briefly glanced over the document before picking up my quill.
[I'm not gonna paste all the cutaways from the CG like I did in Case 3]
Gilbert: I see. So they've already completed their draft. Excellent, excellent.
Roderic: It seems experiencing your wrath this morning made them respond accordingly.
Gilbert: I'd like for them to submit the draft before it ever gets to that point next time.
Roderic: It's only because nobody can come up with out-of-the-box ideas like you.
Gilbert: They're all conclusions one can arrive at rationally. It's not like I'm making unreasonable demands of anyone.
(We're in trouble if they can't grow to the point where they can keep the older generations in check even without me.)
While talking, I read through the document and noted down points of concern.
Gilbert: ...Also, the draft was poorly-constructed. With this there's too gaps for us to drive that old man into a corner.
Roderic: Then I'll have it returned to you in such a way that we can.
Gilbert: I only appreciate haste. You help them too, Roderic. I'd like to have the contents finalized before our next regular meeting.
Gilbert: If we leave that old man unchecked, he may soon start a losing battle against neighboring countries.
(Up until now I'd left him to go and self-destruct on his own but... it was a promise to the little rabbit.)
Roderic: ...Understood, sir.
After completing my review, I handed it back to Roderic.
Gilbert: What's the next document?
Roderic: It's here, sir.
Gilbert: ...I know I keep asking, but is there more still?
Roderic: There's a mountain of things I'd like you to look over.
Gilbert: I thought I'd delegated my authority out.
(And it's not like they're even required to check in with me before proceeding.)
Roderic: This just means that Obsidian needs you.
Gilbert: That's certainly a problem.
Roderic: No, sir, it's not.
(I've got no intention of dying now that I've decided to live, but...)
(The everyday life that's persisted until today may not necessarily continue on tomorrow.)
(Because of the position I'm in, I have to assume the worst and act accordingly.)
Gilbert: ...[sigh] Unless we can get everyone past the idea that failure is some sort of capital crime, won't it be difficult for you and I to manage all this work on our own?
Gilbert: It seems like my presence is a hindrance after all.
Roderic: Please don't say that!
Gilbert: Fine, fine. If you don't like it, then go give out this PSA.
Gilbert: "As long as there's no fraud or corruption at work, I won't kill you over a simple failure. So please rely on your own judgement more."
Roderic: ...Very well, sir.
(Even so...)
I'd felt someone's passionate gaze trained on me even while we were talking.
The person in question may have believed they were well-hidden.
But I couldn't help but notice the hem of her negligee flickering from her hiding spot.
Roderic: ...Sir, let's deal with the rest of this tomorrow.
Roderic may have noticed as well since he was giving up on the rest of the documents.
Gilbert: Hey. You definitely didn't see anything, right?
Roderic: I saw nothing and I noticed nothing.
Gilbert: Is that so? That's fine, then. Thank you for your hard work.
(Narrowly escaped death, didn't you...?)
The door closed behind Roderic and I stretched out my arms as though to relax.
Gilbert: Now, then, little rabbit.
Emma: ...So you'd noticed me after all.
Gilbert: Well that's a given.
Once I beckoned, the little rabbit understood my request exactly and climbed onto my lap.
Gilbert: You were throwing Roderic such a passionate look.
Emma: I was looking at you!?
Gilbert: He was positioned in the same line of sight.
Gilbert: As you know, you have a very troublesome man on your hands. So you're aware of what you should do at a time like this, right...?
Emma: ......
The punishment from earlier seemed to have taken effect as the little rabbit kissed my lips instead of my ear.
I lightly bit her lip on her way out, imparting a bit of pain.
But rather than get angry, the little rabbit's eyes only seemed to soften with joy.
(Looks like I was able to soothe you after all.)
Emma: ...Did I interfere with your official duties?
Gilbert: [pouts] Roderic's the one who interfered. Showing up at this hour with documents for review.
Emma: That's probably because you were busy during the day.
Gilbert: [grins] Hehe... I showed you a lot of things I don't like about Obsidian today.
Emma: ...And I want to know about even more of those things from now on.
Emma: Because I'd like to be able to assist you as well.
Gilbert: Ahaha, that's reassuring.
(...Hm?)
The little rabbit had begun to frown as she spoke.
(Have I said something wrong?)
I hadn't the faintest idea what it could be, so I settled on comforting her for the time being by stroking her cheek, still warm from her bath.
Gilbert: You're pulling such a long face even though your words are so reassuring,
Emma: ...I wasn't lying.
Gilbert: I know that. So what's eating at you?
Emma: ...I can't really put it to words.
Emma: It's just... I'm envious of Roderic.
(......)
Emma: He's able to assist you more than me, and he knows everything...
(...So that's what was on your mind while you were eavesdropping.)
(The little rabbit is jealous of Roderic.)
(The sweet little rabbit of all people.)
Gilbert: Wow... I'll have to give Roderic a bonus.
There's no way I wouldn't be happy to be shown such love to the point of jealousy.
This was an event that completely overturned all the depressing stuff from today.
It was practically a miracle.
Emma: ...I get it now. So this is what you've been feeling all this time.
Emma: Hehe... What do I do? I'm really jealous here.
Jealousy was supposed to be a negative emotion by nature yet the little rabbit took it in as though it were a good thing.
I felt like she'd gotten a glimpse of how this beast dealt with his jealousy on a daily basis.
Gilbert: Serious jealousy is nothing like this though, you know?
Emma: Are you saying there's more to come?
Gilbert: Yeah. Your jealousy's in the early chapters.
Gilbert: The more and more you come to love me, the less you'll be able to contain that kind of adorable jealousy.
Emma: I'll work diligently then.
Gilbert: Hehe... I can't believe you've cheered up this much just from turning into a jealousy fiend.
(It's just like Roderich was saying. I definitely shouldn't have been able to show any kindness toward my surroundings these past few days)
And yet, what occupies my heart now at the end of the day is pure happiness.
(The reason I had Emma accompany me on official business was in preparation for a day that might possibly come...)
(At least that's what I'd thought, but perhaps in reality I'd only wanted to be healed.)
(...Nothing in this rotten world can change a thing about the beautiful world that Emma brings.)
(Maybe I'm just spoiled by the comfort in that.)
(...I may be a lot more dependent on Emma than I realize.)
When I laughed despite myself, Emma began to gently stroke my hair.
Gilbert: Taming the conquering beast is difficult, isn't it? But it might be easy for you.
Gilbert: Because I'm so madly in love with you.
(I'm sure I could cherish you endlessly.)
(That's why... I wish this daily life could go on forever.)
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Translation references: 無理矢理 1 | かと 1 2 | 感謝してもしきれません 1 | あなたなら 1
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