#Milestones like this are just wild to me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iwaasfairy · 6 months

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┌─ “ ! „ CADAVER

tw. wound fucking, blood, gore, don’t read this if you’re squeamish!!, somnophilia, oral, noncon, megumi is delusional in this, yandere, belly bulge but gross! , cannibalistic thoughts wordcount. 6.4k

a/n. this one,,, was me pushing myself to just go buck wild, and channel my inner junji, and i think i got somewhere with it... a select few of you will understand me when i say that ,, this is like my love letter to megumi fr ♡ like i said though, this one might be the one that has people a little yucked out but! it's basically my halloween fic, for the spooky month

fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

When the rattling of the stretcher finally quiets in the halls and the rising rate of adrenaline starts to flatten out, Megumi’s lost on what to do. Any of the other sorcerers can’t decide what the next step is either, it seems. Yuji with his back pressed against the glass and staring off into the empty part of the hall they just came from, and principal Yaga a stern quietness and arms crossed. Ieiri-san will do her best work today of any days if there’s anything to be done about it, but Megumi can tell. That uncertainty hangs over all of them as the faint breathing of a collapsed body grows more pitched and panicked.

Megumi always sort of hated you. He didn’t like you from the second he first met you, and it just grew and grew and grew from there. He hates your stupid demeanor with your higher-than-thou morals and your sky-high milestones and that grin that could make even the coldest heart split in two. It doesn’t escape him that this is the same reason he always did enjoy Maki, but you were — more recognizable to him, and yet somehow much further away.

He always hated the way he’d catch himself watching the soft motion of your lashes, or how your mouth would form words, the heat that would carry color to your face. He always hated the quiet moments you’d sit by his side, rattling his heart out of his chest and laughing at him for his hot cheeks; and he always hated how you’d be the thought on his mind right after he’d made sure his own limbs hadn’t yet been blown to bits. But standing with his hands covered in a coating of blood that isn’t his, dripping onto the panes of the old flooring, he wonders what that hatred ever really got him. It never helped him understand you better, that for someone so alike himself, you were so much better at everything.

His chest is rising and falling too fast.

Gojo’s too late, always is when it comes down to the wire, Megumi thinks as the lankier man rushes through and stops a few feet away from them. Yaga’s brow pinches, before he lifts his head the slightest bit to acknowledge the white blond. “What’s the status,” Gojo has to ask, and before he has another conscious thought, Megumi’s furiously rubbing his hands over his sweater in an attempt to get the blood off while his teeth clack with how hard he’s clenching them. There’s a thickness between his ears that makes everything sound far off. The blood stains his fingers the more he rubs, and his face gets hotter and hotter as it lasts.

But he thinks he hears the principal explain.

How you had been pinned down and knocked clean out, head bashed against the concrete pillars. How Megumi had been too busy trying and failing to keep the uglier curse from blasting you both to shit, to notice. How the other special grade had picked you up by the neck and unceremoniously shoved something into your mouth and pushed until it went down your throat - until you started convulsing, spitting out blood and bile before he could reach you. Megumi hadn’t taken the time to look then, but he knows now what it was, slimy, decaying contents of a little vial that had gone missing a few months ago.

“The girl must’ve been a real good match.” Yaga pushes his fingers to his brow, as if forcibly trying to push the frown down. “Ieiri’s doing what she can.” It doesn’t make any of them feel better when Gojo clicks his tongue and aims his eyes at the door, before casting a quick glance at Megumi under thick, blond lashes. He wants to puke. He’d shoved his fingers down your throat for what felt like hours, trying desperately to get you to throw up the curse. Had carried you all the way back while you were sobbing and wailing in pain. Nothing.

If even the worst case repeats itself, they’ll have another incarnation on their hands, and the noose will be tightened around your throat. Yuji must have already realized this, because he’s yet to say anything since you’d been tied onto the stretcher with blood pouring out of your nose and ears and coughing up grime. Megumi’s not even sure if Ieiri would hesitate to put you down without a second warning before it gets to the same turning point. And he is pissed. At the situation, his friends, himself, you. He’s so angry his hands shake, and so angry tears start stinging behind his eyes, feeling like any motion might cause him to throw up. He hates you.

Your chest’s rising with big motions up and down, up and down, as you drum your feet on his bedsheets like an excited rabbit. Megumi grunts, snatches the book from your hands and tosses it back down with the others that were not-so-neatly stacked on his desk. Your shape on his bed makes a dent in his mind that he’ll have to keep replaying over and over when he closes his eyes, and it has a frown pulling his eyebrows down automatically. “So grumpy,” you yawn, and also roll over onto your stomach to tuck your legs to your core, lifting one hand to rest your face into it.

“This isn’t your room.”

“Might as well be,” you giggle back, and he watches for a moment as your hair falls along your shoulders in a gentle brush, making you look even more enchanting. You’re soft and parts of you are shiny like silk, seemingly oozing your rosy, peachy aura all over his stuff. You catch his eyes for just a few breaths, still rising your chest too distractingly, before you push yourself up and slide off the bed to walk up to him. He pivots to thumb through the notes on his desk again, to be farther away from your face probably, and his shoulders rise into an uncomfortable pinch when you approach, feet patting on his floor. “Megumi.” You say his name with a clear pout.

Then heat covers his skin at the base of his throat and he freezes, letting the way you drag your soft lips over his pulse fill him up entirely. His hands shake too hard to keep a grip on the paper, so he spins you around and shoves you back against the desk as you hiss at the sudden painful grip, his fist wrapped into the collar of your shirt. “I already told you to stop doing that.” He hisses, and your eyes are wide and glittering like diamonds, beautiful color peering up at him.

“But you like it when I do that,” you whisper back ever so softly, and his head feels like it’s splitting at the seams, cracking his skull under a non-escapable pressure. He can’t think, can’t even eat normally without the ghost of you hanging over him and shaking him up. It’s unbearable even when you’re not around. His fist unclenches from the flimsy fabric to instead grip your chin with his thumb, and his heart bangs against his ribcage harder than can be normal. Harder than is healthy. A little thought in the back of his skull begs to push. Just once, deny you from digging your claws deeper into him— but he’s already melted to your shape before he can blink.

His face drops like you’re magnetic, thighs pushing you further into the desk and also into him; and it’s truly embarrassing that his hands are still shaking like they do. You lean in when he does, and let your lips meet his hungry, treacherous mouth, other hand sliding to your waist to pull you closer. Your tongue brushes his and he implodes inside, and he swears it hurts to be this close to you.

Not that you care. Your arms wind around his neck to pull him even closer, and his blood feels like it’s boiling under his skin.

He finds himself wandering back to the quieter wing of the school when the sun’s already dipped far past the horizon, and the cold starts picking up. He’s dragging his feet, so he won’t fucking rush back to the room he finds himself thinking about so fast he stumbles. He’s glaring at the patterns in the floorboards so he doesn’t cry. You’re stable- quiet puffs of air escaping your nose every few seconds, but you’re still under surveillance. As far as the clans are concerned, they’ll put something sharp between your eyes sooner rather than later, before whatever’s slumbering inside you wakes up. But Gojo’s fighting for you. It makes him grimace to think about.

Knocking his knuckles onto the doorframe, he enters the dimly lit room. Nanami doesn’t stand when he spots him, but does uncross his legs as he takes a deep breath. Neither of them speak for a while, and the dark haired man takes that time to run his eyes over you. You’re not as dirty as you were when you first got back, shivering and shaking. You’re no longer dripping with blood, though he’s sure if he were to look close enough, he’d still be able to see flecks of it between your cracked lips. As he walks up, he finds himself thinking that you look strangely peaceful, and that doesn’t seem entirely right.

Save for the bloody mark that seems branded into your forehead, you look like you’re quietly sleeping on the metal slab that supports your body. After all the pain and agony you’ve caused in him, sleepless nights and long days of wondering, hoping you’d be okay. Why is it that he’s the one affected by you? Why is it that he’s the one who’s going to have to say goodbye again? He stares at your unmoving form as if that’ll give him an answer, but it doesn’t. And the pit in his stomach swells again. He’s just so angry all the time. Megumi breathes out. “It’s my turn to take watch for a while.”

“You’re early,” Nanami’s deep baritone chastises, but he gets up from the seat anyway. He smooths out the wrinkles in his suit, before slowly placing a hand on the other’s shoulder. The weight is heavy, and somehow doesn’t soothe him at all. But there’s an attempt, he guesses. He’s still not entirely sure why everyone is looking at him like he’s the one who needs it most, broken and disheveled and mourning. He’s been able to finish his tasks like everyone else has, and he can banish the thought of you when he’s supposed to focus on work— at least, mostly. He doesn’t need the fucking pity. “Want some coffee? Or green tea?” Nanami asks, letting his hand slide off when Megumi shrugs.

“No. I’m okay.”

The older man seems to hesitate, simply nodding when he walks past. Before closing the door behind him, he once again clears his voice, and Megumi turns over his shoulder. The blond has this look in his eyes, of pity, as he talks. “Megumi, there’s a chance she pulls through.” Why again - that fucking pity? “Don’t give up.” Though it makes him tingle with an unbearable sort of itch deep under the skin, he grits his teeth, and his brain’s hot and irritated when he responds.

“I wasn’t going to.” Nanami doesn’t seem to believe him, but still softly slides the door closed behind him, and when the footsteps grow softer and softer, Megumi allows for a second to collect himself. He braces his hands onto the metal as he leans in, close enough to feel just the slightest bit of your warmth on his fingers, and see the way you’re still breathing, though shallow, too faint for his liking. His brows pinch when he finds himself with his forehead pressed to your stomach, hunched over like he’s praying at your shrine or something. But he can’t help it.

As much time as he spent beside you with a frown on his face, it never feels enough. He can’t stay away, like it’s an involuntary thing— you leave him no choice in the matter. Even here in the darkness, whining softly into your wheezed breaths, it isn’t enough to be beside you. He can’t do anything from here at your bedside; and that uselessness makes him feel even more uneasy. He needs to be closer to you. Wants to be so close you two get stuck together and melt together like an inseparable entity, would want to crawl inside you if he could.

His nose presses into the clean shirt that smells like your laundry, as he clenches his fists so hard along the table edge they start to ache. His eyes are pressed closed tight when he allows him just a second to nose below your sternum, and that uncomfortable stinging sensation comes back to his eyes. “Fucking idiot,” his lips brush against your covered skin, taking in the lack of heat, of your smell and the way you sounded with his face buried there, “I didn’t mean it.”

“Aw, ow, ow, Megumi~” You pout with a pitched whine as his hand stays screwed around your knee for a little longer, keeping you trapped under his heavier, taller body so that you start wiggling. Your head falls back against his arm, and you lean to press a few kisses to his wrist that’s holding your own to the floor. “Be more gentle.” You pout when you pull back and flash him that fucking look that sends icy shivers down his spine, and exactly nothing else. “You can be gentle, can’t you?” Every other part of him flushes with heat under your doe-eyed, pitiful look, definitely when you start wiggling out of his grasp like you’re suddenly over the game.

You started it. He wouldn’t put himself in your range on purpose. When you’re about halfway out from under his crouched form, you sit up to be face to face; and you brush your hand past his ear, down his jaw and neck and trail his collarbones, all places he’s convinced are now stained a bright, obnoxious pink from his flush. You let your fingers linger when you tilt your head aside a bit so you can slot your lips over his into a sweet, little kiss, and you pull your lips into another pout. “Swear you’re doing it to hurt me sometimes. I’m never trying to hurt you, you know.” A few strands of hair fall over your eye when you sit below him, and he has to fight every single muscle in his body not to push it back for you.

He wants to see your eyes. He wants you to see him like this, pinned under you like the attraction you render him as— his body collapses on top of you as you start giggling all fucking cutely, and his heart races more than it ever has. Your heartbeat drums into his face when he buries it into your softness, chest against his cheek, too long for his own sanity before he drags himself off you. And it is a drag. His entire body starts feeling sluggish when you’re this close to him, close enough to drown himself in your scent. He won’t ever say it, but that scent gets him hard and awfully mellow all at once, his cock coming to life in his pants before he’s moving.

You look happy. Your eyes are those bright, gentle colors that rain down on him, and your lips are quirked into a soft smile, you must know what you’re doing to him. Setting him up for failure again. He huffs and pushes himself onto his back instead, knocking his head to the floor while you’re moving from the rug - splaying your knees either side of him before you nuzzle right back on top of his chest and make it even harder to get a breath, let alone catch it. He’s sure he’s panting a little when you leave your warmth draped all over him, and you don’t do anything other than be there.

His arms are still on the floor, his body rigid under you, but you’re softly giggling into his peck before he frowns down at you again when you catch his eyes. “What?”

“Your heart is beating super fast,” you admit, not proud, not gloating - just stating the fact, and heat overtakes his neck now too. Instead of letting you wind him up any further, he bucks you off and switches positions again, now with your two wrists caught in his hands as you squeak with the ache that probably lodges in your back.

“Can you get off of me?” He sits back on his feet, not letting go of your hands yet, before your eyes flutter and you grab him back. Well, brush your fingers over the skin you can reach, pawing at him just enough to tickle. “What’s with you today?” he bites back, and also snatches his hands back to escape the onslaught of feelings that wash over him. You don’t sit up this time, and from the tilt of your head, you’re considering your answer for a while before you speak out.

“Do you like me, Megumi?” Fuck. His room seems to collapse in on itself. Or, maybe it’s his body— because he gets a little more short of breath, and his thoughts short circuit as his mouth stupidly drops open. He’s choked up for long enough that he has to clear his voice to try an answer, and even then, he gets stuck. You’re studying him so closely it must show. The blaring warmth that fills him up and makes his ears bright red. After another second, your eyes seem to dim slightly, as you push your cheek to your shoulder, opening yourself up to even more attacks. “Love y’, ‘gumi.”

He straightens up with enough tightness in his chest to choke him, makes his eyes sting and his head blare cold, painful warnings— he grabs some of the glasses from the small table beside him, launches it straight into the wall until it shatters into a million pieces upon impact. The loud clang doesn’t do anything to settle his anger, where he fists his hands into his hair and pulls, in hopes the worry will somehow vanish.

“Why do you always have to be such a hero?” he hisses, even though you can’t answer now, “wouldn’t it have been enough to just stay here with me?!” He tilts your face to his and drops his lips to yours, and that familiar softness is enough to have him clenching his eyes shut again against the tears. He kisses you until your mouth opens a bit, then slides his tongue up against yours and grips your shoulders, pulling your limp body towards him more. “I’ll be better to you.” He pleads. You don’t move, and the breaths going over his cheeks are so shallow.

But he can’t stop himself from tangling your tongue with his, licking into your mouth and chasing the warmth until he runs out of breath. You’re so fucking pretty still. He kisses you again, bumping teeth, and grips your hip hard as he lays over you a little more, chest to chest and feeling it brush against him with each soft pant he lets out, each gravelly moan. It doesn’t hurt so much to brush his tongue against yours, to swallow your taste on his tongue until his lips numb — but while it doesn’t ache, it’s also not enough. Before he’s able to think about the morality of his actions, his thumbs are hooking under your shirt and pushing it up, over your soft belly and ribcage all the way up until it’s over your tits, where his lips travel to as soon as the skin’s exposed. You’re so soft still, too.

He’s not sure what he’s doing other than leaving messy, open mouth kisses onto you, kneading your skin between his hands as all the warmth in his body pools into his groin. Your tits are sucked into his mouth, one then the other, as he rubs his face into the doughy skin, then he’s pulling and pinching at your tits like he knows makes you whimper. The sound’s burned into his working memory, and it drives him on to run his face down your soft body to the part where your thighs meet. The skin just above your skirt of the softest, warmest, and he full on moans when his cock twitches hard in his pants and he reaches down to grab himself.

Normally you’d be blinking up at him now, sending him that little look with grabby hands, ready to wrap your puffy lips around him— it’s different when it’s his hand screwed around himself and not even moving yet. he can’t, or he’ll cum in his pants, and he’s not going to waste his cum like that when your warm pussy’s right before him. He’s shaky when he pushes the fabric up, flipping it over your tummy; and groans again when he licks down your panties and mouths at the seat of it. It tastes so much like you his eyes roll back, and his knees give a little, while more precum leaks out of him and into his pants.

He frees his hands momentarily to slide you to the edge of the metallic table, two hands gripping your butt and squeezing, then hooking his finger in your panties to just pull them aside. He doesn’t care about the chaffing he’ll have. Not even a second thought when your little pussy is in front of him, and he pushes his mouth to you for some open mouthed kisses, down to your pussy and back up. Wrapping his mouth around your clit, he sucks hard, and rubs the bud a few times with his tongue. He swears your breathing goes more pitched and heavier when he does, when his fingers trail down your puffier lips to rub the bit of wetness around.

His cock’s painfully hard in his pants, and after a few more times licking you up and down so that your slick covers the entire bottom half of his face, he pushes the zipper down and then takes himself out to watch how red and sore the head of his cock already is, oozing pre and coating both his boxers and his shaft. He spits into his hand to give himself a few tight-wrung pumps, tighter than he likes normally- if he doesn’t, he’ll spill all over your cute, little pussy. He pushes his fingertips inside your now wetter cunt, watching it wink and beg for something to fill, and groans when one finger slides in with ease.

Your soft walls are still soft and hot around him, giving mean licks over your clit again and again in a way that would normally overstimulate you too easily. You don’t whimper or whine now, take his finger nice and sweet inside your squelching, gooey walls, only making a little noise when he slides in a second and he can feel the slight bit of stretching you need. He’s dripping onto the table now, balls tight and heavy - imagines how you moan and look when you’re sucking on them and you smack your lips with each open mouthed kiss or lick. You between his legs is always enough to have his knees giving, and it’s no different now, he has to hold himself up against you before he thinks better of it.

You’re slid back on the table too easily, making room for him when he pushes one of your legs aside— and let out a slight gasp when he hoists himself over your body. He just wants you. So bad. It’s not so embarrassing when you’re not awake to see how fucking crazy he looks, flushed, cock twitching between his legs as he strains to kiss you again, lick over your tongue for more of your taste, and breathes your name. “Baby, fuck- I need to be inside you.” He wants to hide away in your safety forever. A crystalline, fucked up thought springs up in his mind for just a second, but he banishes that with a few blinks.

Instead he lines himself up over your hot, needy pussy and pushes inside just the head at first, grunting tightly at the softness that envelops him. His whole body shudders as he pushes in deeper, feeling that pit in his stomach expand with each inch that he goes deeper, tangles his fingers with yours when he bottoms out and fills you up so well. You’re curled into his touch, and he kisses you, his thoughts blanking as he pulls back, and snaps his hips back inside you. You’re hot and wet and it feels so fucking good, clenching your hand inside his larger one. It’s not fair. He’s losing his mind, and you’re always the end of him.

His cock rubs against your swollen insides with rough, imprecise strokes — he doesn’t mean to, it’s just that trying to focus on anything other than the heat as he slides in and out of your tight pussy is too much. You’re too much; you’re haunting him even now. He kisses down your face to your neck, sucks on your skin and bites down hard enough to make a serious mark, wanting to hear you cry. Normally, you’d cry out his name so pretty, dig your nails into his back until he’s letting you go and grinding back on his cock, but you can’t do that now. His cockhead bumps your spot each time he fucks himself into you further, but it’s not enough.

It’s never been enough. He wants to be closer to you, and that horrible image that was launched into his head creeps back up before his eyes, bloody and horrible. Maybe he always told himself that he hated you because - no matter how much he fought, he would never be able to stomach actually hurting you as much as it hurts him. But now, withering on top of you as his cock thumps with how much blood rushes south, everything else falls away. He wants to claw and bite and carve his way to your insides and make you pay just a little for his sins. His body is coated in a thin sheen of sweat, thighs pumping blood through his body to his lungs, his gut, his cock.

He pulls out of you to kiss down your tits and over your covered ribs, thumbing over the head of his cock and gliding it over your puffy clit, your wet pussy lips and flicking it just in and out of your drooling cunt— before he puts a sloppy few kisses there too, tongue coated in slick. The blood pumps through his head so hard he feels dizzy, pounding behind his eyes as the heat of your cunt overwhelms him entirely. It’s too hard to stay sane -he’s never felt less sane than now- when you’re laying below him like this, ready to leave him all alone. You wormed your way into his heart when he didn’t want it, and now, now that’s all about to end.

His mouth is dry, but he’s drooling as he grips your thigh and kneads the doughy skin of your tummy— looking so soft and warm and perfectly shaped for him. He wants -needs, needs it, to feel you swallow him, ruin him- to cut you open and eat your insides out with the sick force of what he’s feeling right now— he groans your name again, desperately trying and failing to get it out of his head— the more he tries the better it feels to think it. Despite having his fist around the base of his cock, stings of white shoot over your body as he crumples in on himself and paints you with his cum. He’s still hard though, painfully so, and as soon as he’s done cumming he can already feel the building urge to do it again, trailing his shaking fingers down to your clenching pussy and rubbing your clit until your body starts wiggling back just a little too.

Megumi wants to go, bury this urge down and never think of it again. He really does— but it’s like he’s possessed, drooling over your body and flicking his cock in and out of your pussy without sliding back in. He might’ve had it wrong this whole time, but if this is love - God, he loves you, he loves, loves, loves you so much he’s not ever going to have enough. Can’t ever say goodbye, not when his entire soul’s been bound to yours, has been rotted away into nothing like this. There’s only you, and him; and he can’t get close enough to make this fucking feeling go away.

With black spots swimming over his vision, he’s not sure what he’s doing until he’s knelt on the floor and shards of glass cut his knees open through his pants; he doesn’t feel it - just trembles as he gets one of the larger shards and crawls back to you, right between your plush thighs as he kisses your face over and over until he feels like he’ll be sick. “Forgive me when you wake up, baby.” It doesn’t really sound like him anymore, faint and messy as he ruts his cock against the inside of your thigh and stares at your face for a little longer. He paws at your tummy again, maybe it’s the lack of oxygen - he feels like he hasn’t taken a breath in ages - or the fact that all his blood is cleary in his swollen cock, hot and heavy.

He kisses you again, pants against your chest as he watches between your two bodies as one arm keeps him up, and the other drags the shard of glass below your belly button just hard enough to create a little cut. He just- just wants to be a little closer, you’ll let him, you’ll let him- he’s been so fucking mean to you and if he can just do this, he’ll make it up to you. Specks of blood well up that he swipes his thumb through to slide it into his mouth, get used to the taste of copper on his tongue. Sometimes he bites your lip hard enough to split it, and you tear up and whine, tangle your fingers in his hair.

He could cum on the spot when you yank like that, but the taste now isn’t enough. As he pushes the shard of glass into your skin harder, watching one layer make way for another, tougher tissue that still gives when he grids down a little- he waits for the moment where he feels bad, regrets and walks it all back- but the feeling doesn’t come. Your body looks so pretty like this, robbed of your innocence by his hands; and he doesn’t wanna cum yet, fuck. The adrenaline swimming in his head is pounding too hard to feel anything other than love for you, and the pulling, almost unbearable sensation of wanting to slide back into you. The blood pools around the hole as he slides along, hearing the skin squelch and snap, building a sweat along his neck and collar. Maybe you’d lick it up if you were awake.

The blood runs, covers his entire fist that’s wrapped tight around the glass, it creates little rivers that you’ll both be laying in soon. He coughs, before kissing you below your jaw, feeling the weak pulse beneath his lips— and righting himself to look at his work with a better angle, groaning. There’s both more blood and less than he expected, pooling in your belly button, all over your pretty pussy, his thighs and hands- his cock not yet. He drops the glass aside as he thumbs over the wound and sure enough- he’s cut through fat and muscle and sinew without too much struggle, because you’re soft all over.

He pushes the fleshy gash open more, thumbs over the clean cut he made with a strange sort of fascination before the hot, hot blood gets to be too much for his curiosity and he leans in to lick from your clit up, up, up until his tongue reaches the raised, tight skin— what has he done, what’s he doing, this, this isn’t — he can’t stand the heat that’s coming out of you for long, and it smells, but that isn’t what sticks with him right now. He’s never wanted to be closer. The gaping pouch of your belly’s drooling red for him. The head of his cock twitches when he feels the hot of your stomach coating him in blood, and coating you in turn. The cum from before’s all but washed away, but he’s sure he can give you another couple orgasms before he tuckers out.

He’s strung so high all of this feels like a dream, like his head is about to roll off of his neck; he pushes in with a garbled sort of sound that comes from deep, deep inside him. The skin doesn’t wanna give way at first, but he manages to push back hard enough before suddenly he’s inside, and it’s like nothing else. The pressure of a slab of skin taking him where it’s not meant to go— bleeding and whining out like this, it’s euphoric. He’s able to see his cock’s outline glide into you until it’s bulging your stomach, squelching and sucking him back in; feels like you’re taking him deeper than ever, letting him fuck his cock so deep he’ll hit your ribs soon. You’re so fucking beautiful, even like this, getting coated and letting him fuck it.

He doesn’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re dying, but the peace that washes him entirely clean might be close; he grinds his hips into you hard enough to rock your body under him as he laces your hands again. Both, this time, just chasing after an end that seems like it’ll never come.

He feels infinite. Your blood’s so hot it’s almost painful, and the tightness of the hole he carved into you is entirely different from your pussy, pushing back against him like you’re begging him to get out. He imagines you’d beg so pretty- but he’s inside you, finally inside and deeper than anyone’s ever been. He’s able to watch his cock blow up your belly and make it hollow when he pulls back, and God- he should feel worse than he does. He could swallow you whole if you’d let him. The feeling has him shuddering over you as he pants your name, makes your tits brush over his chest- and his balls smack against the smooth stretch of skin until he can’t feel his feet any longer.

Now he’s got you dirtied, he wants to ruin you too, leave you a mangled mess of flesh and swallow every last bit of you until he never forgets the taste. But that would require he’d stop fucking his hot cock into your bloody, little pouch, and that won’t happen. He’s panting, sweat running down his back from the effort, and his groin starts to feel a little raw too. He might’ve been going for hours by now, licking your mouth clean from his drool only to dirty you again. The head of his cock feels fucked raw inside you, and his thighs shake before his shoulders square over you.

Megumi speeds up his pace fucking into your guts -actually- until he clenches every muscle, is overcome again and reaches heaven inside you, spurting creamy white into the pouch he’s created for himself; “Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck,” his hand has to twist into an uncomfortable position to reach for your clit, but he wildly does it anyway— cramping up, until he’s collapsing on top of you and stilling inside. The stench of blood makes the entire room smell, as he thumbs over the side of your blood-coated thigh with one hand, and feels the shaking all the way up and down his spine. He pulls out so slowly, pumping the last bits of cum out with a throaty moan, before he slides off the table onto awfully shaky legs.

If he was any more lucid, he’d think twice before leaning by your side to kiss your eyes, your nose, your pouty lips as the tears that must’ve been building for a while run down your temple— and suppresses the need to actually eat you- for now, he rubs a softer hand over your exposed tummy, before folding the now blood-drenched fabric of your skirt back down to hide your puffy pussy, lest he be tempted again. He whispers his love into your ears, nuzzles at your hairline until the feeling comes back to his hands and feet and he tucks his spent cock back into his boxers, and goes about cleaning the mess he made of the floor.

It’s only when an uncomfortable scratchy sound comes that he notices the burning heat on his neck, the dried sweat painfully sticky— and straightens up beside you when you start to shake again. Immediately his worry is sky high. Even in the gross air of mixed blood and cum and the scent of sex soaking everything, his mind is just clear enough to hold your head when you thrash around a few times, and your chest rises wildly up and down. Then before his very eyes, the damage he’d done upon you slowly starts to stitch itself together, like weaving threads. Lacing you up until every bit of muscle, fat, and skin restores to it’s pristine glory before he ever touched you, with a little puff of cursed energy.

He bites his lip hard when the shaking stops, and your back lands back onto the metal with a soft clang. The noise is louder now it’s quiet in the room. Megumi waits for a bit longer before he brushes the hair from your face, and doesn't mind it that he’s leaving tracks. The darkness is filled with his tense breathing, and then — every sound at once. Your eyes shoot open with a cry, sobbing out like a baby for a few painful seconds. But then spot him thumbing your tears away devoted like he is -though he won’t admit it to you, and you let out a noise of pure relief.

It’s almost poetic, when you crash back into his arms and this time, he lets your arms wind around his waist.

#kinktober #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi smut #fushiguro smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #tw.dark content #tw.somno #tw.noncon #tw.wound fucking #tw.blood

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hyuckiefluff · 3 months

Text

pairing: mark lee x fem!reader

genre: smut

wc: 1.2k

cw: consensual somno, unprotected sex, fingering + oral (fem receiving), reader’s boobs fit in mark’s hands, usage of terms like baby, princess and slut, a bit of cockwarming so no aftercare rlly

a/n: thank you for the request @jaemnationnn <333 !! hope you like it! i rlly wanted to get this out by today so if it feels kinda rushed it’s cuz it is T.T also i’ve never written anything like this so all feedback is appreciated!! also omgg i’m at 777 followers rn :0 feels like an important milestone hehe

Mark found you sleeping when he got back from practice. He checked the clock on the nightstand and realized it was almost 3AM so he thought it best not to wake you. But as he turned to leave for the shower, he noticed that you were wearing nothing but a shirt of his. You were also missing your underwear, he noticed as he carefully peeled the blanket off you. He cursed under his breath, struggle visible on his features.

He told himself he shouldn’t act on his perverted thoughts. You were both tired and he would hate to disturb you knowing you had to get up early.

"Hmm... Mark," you softly mumbled, interrupting his thoughts. You stirred a bit more, but within seconds your head fell back on the pillow as your body relaxed again.

Or so he thought, but then your hand suddenly ventured from where it rested in your stomach down between your legs.

You were having a wet dream, Mark gulped.

“God, you're gonna be the end of me," he muttered, walking closer to your snoozing self. He was sweaty from practice, but if he didn’t do something about the painful bulge in his pants, he was scared a blood vessel might actually pop.

He hesitated to touch you at first, even though you'd given him the green light to do this before.

"Mm… Mark…please..." you let out a soft moan, shifting slightly and revealing more of your soft skin to his hungry eyes.

He groaned, undoing his sweatpants and letting them drop to his feet. His dick sprung free in a violent manner, the tip blushed a painful pink.

He couldn't help but wonder what he was doing to you in your dream. Was he just touching you, or was he already balls deep inside you? His mind went wild and his body just followed along, silently stalking over your form.

He let his nose nuzzle your neck and you sighed in response. The sleepy sounds you made every second only fueled his actions, he left a wet trail below your earlobe with his tongue and let his hand wander down, fondling your right breast, replacing your own.

"Mark..." you moaned.

He murmured "M' right here, baby..." into your neck. His fingers found the warmth of your cunt as they moved between your thighs. He let out a sated sigh as his finger entered you with ease. You shifted lightly, spreading your legs wider. Even in your drowsy state, your body reacted to him so well.

"So wet..." He grunted and rutted against you instinctively. He didn't want to wake you, but he couldn't help himself.

"I guess my dirty girl had a dream about me." He bit your jaw tenderly and murmured. "Calling my name in your sleep like some slut in heat?"

You slowly opened your eyes, furrowing your brow in an attempt to focus your vision. "Mark?"

"Yeah, baby?" He was slightly out of breath, with heavy eyes on you.

"You're home… mngh" You moaned as his finger curled inside you.

"M’ sorry, baby...I couldn't help myself.” He whimpered, rutting against nothing.

"Mm...so sleepy," you mewled, gently reaching for his untidy hair.

"It's okay, you don't have to do anything baby." he cooed. You simply nodded, closing your eyes again.

With this, he wasted no time pulling your shirt up and locking his mouth around your already perked nipple.

He was quite obsessed with your boobs— how could he not be when they fit perfectly in his hands and felt even better in his mouth. He delicately bit, sucked, and kissed every inch of your chest, gradually moving down until he hovered above your heat. His mouth latched onto your core as if drawn by a magnetic force, groaning at the feeling of being engulfed by your scent, taste, and warmth. The man seemed to have an insatiable appetite for eating you out, clear by the fact that he would do it even in your sleep.

Mark enjoyed burying his head between your legs but what he really needed there right now was his dick so he pulled you down to eye level, glanced at your slightly open mouth, and took the chance to kiss you while positioning his tip in your entrance. God, it was ridiculous how tight you were even after he had prepped you with his mouth and fingers. Your gummy walls were practically swallowing him, causing his hips to waver and forcing him to grasp onto the sheets for support.

He tried to keep a slow pace, but this vice-like grip you had around him made it hard to control himself. He knew he’d cum early if he kept going at it like this so he switched to a position behind you while lying on his side. This was more comfortable for you and also reduced the impact of his thrusts so as to not shake you as much.

Nuzzling into your hair, he breathed in the sweet scent of your coconut shampoo. Coupled with the soft moans and occasional whimpers escaping your lips, it created his own little paradise.

There was something about seeing your most vulnerable reactions to his touches that had him utterly hooked. Maybe he needed to do this more often.

"So damn good, princess," he groaned, the sound of his skin against yours softly echoing in the room. His hands firmly gripped your hips, guiding you back so he could be (impossibly) closer. Meanwhile, his other hand snaked around your chest, toying with your nipple.

"Mmm..." you were mumbling something he couldn’t quite make out.

He didn’t know if you were fully asleep or just lost in incoherent thoughts before reaching your orgasm. Regardless, he sensed his own release approaching. Gripping your leg, he lifted it slightly so his thrusts could reach deeper.

"Fuuck..." he moaned, your walls coaxing the orgasm from him. The way you spasmed around him, milking him for all he had, had him seeing stars as he shut his eyes.

So much cum was dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets but Mark was utterly spent, the exertion of doing this right after practice taking its toll so instead of getting up and cleaning you with a wet towel, as he normally would, he simply took off his shirt and carefully wiped away what had dripped down your thighs.

After that, he found himself so comfortable in his current position that, before he could think to pull out, he was already dozing off with you.

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peachypinkygloss · 9 months

Note

Congratulations on reaching 2k followers 👏😄🙌 💕🌷

For the request I request needy 3 months pregnant oc waking up jimin to fuck her because of her hormones after they made love to her before sleep

tysm love!! 🫶🏻

midnight sex

Your hormones make you extra horny during your pregnancy and Jimin is there to help you.

pairing: bf!jimin x fem!reader

genre: established relationship, pregnancy au, smut

warnings: filthy and nasty af, pregnancy sex, unprotected sex, lots and lots of cum <3, 800 words.

a.n.: my breeding kink is screaming rn. thank you for requesting jimin like i literally needed it lmfao

This is part of my 2k milestone celebration! Here is the post for the drabble game! 🤍 (requests are closed!!)

♡・2k celebration masterlist・♡

"Minnie," you whisper, tapping Jimin's shoulder to try to wake him up.

Currently, your whole body is burning and the erotic dream you just had didn't help at all. You know your panties are soaking wet and the uncomfortable feeling is really hard to ignore.

Your hormones are acting wild during your pregnancy and even though you and Jimin are normally sexually active, this is hitting new records. You can't even recall the number of times you've asked him to fuck you this week. Heck, you've had sex just before going to sleep tonight.

"Please, Minnie," you whine desperately.

"Mmmh."

You sadly sigh, thinking that you might cry. That's a bit dramatic, but it's your hormones' fault. You really need Jimin right now.

You hit his shoulder again and it finally seems to work. He groans, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. He opens his eyelids after, blinking a couple of times before seeing anything else than pitch black.

His eyes get used to the darkness and he turns his head in your direction. "What? What's wrong?" He asks, his voice a bit raspy.

You pull on his t-shirt, wanting him as close as possible to you. "Please, Jimin," you beg again, just needing the ache between your legs to end.

"Tell me what's wrong," he demands, still a bit sleepy.

You decide actions are more worth than words and lay his hand over your wet panties. Even though he's still in a daze, he realizes what you need.

"Aw, baby, do you need my help with that?" He coos, rubbing your pussy with his palm. He gets on top of you, his arm folded beside your head to support his weight.

"Yes, I do," you quietly moan, passing your arms around his shoulders and pulling him in for a quick, sloppy kiss.

He hums in approval, hooking his fingers under the band of your underwear, pulling them down your legs. You're only wearing a t-shirt so he slides them off easily, discarding them away somewhere in your room.

He lowers his sweatpants enough to free his cock, slowly pumping himself to get fully hard. He looks into your eyes while doing so, knowing it drives you wild.

"Beg for it," he says, his tongue peeking out to wet his plump lips. "Beg for my cock, baby," Jimin orders and you can see so much lust in his eyes, it makes you feel so desired.

Honestly, you beg for him to fuck you even when he doesn't ask you to. You have no shame in doing that and it's definitely not something like this that will hurt your pride — especially when you really need his cock for your own sanity.

"Please, Jimin, fuck me," you whine. "I really need you, need your cock inside of me," you insist, just proving to him how much you actually mean it.

Jimin groans at your words, loving hearing them coming out of your mouth. He carefully inserts the tip of his erection into your wet pussy, making you softly gasp, having missed this feeling so much.

Jimin is really girthy, so when he pushes his cock deeper in you, it stretches you out so well it has you almost crying tears of joy — you're not dramatic, it's the hormones.

"Ah, shit, that's it, baby," he praises, holding your hips into place. The veins in his arms pop out and you run your palms over them, feeling just how strong he is. "Pussy's so good."

You moan out while he grunts, setting a regular pace that quickly turns erratic. His balls slap against your skin, the sound resonating in your bedroom, getting coated in your wetness that drips down your ass.

You lock your legs behind his back, being pounded onto the mattress by him, exactly what you needed to get your hormones to calm down.

You pass your hands under his t-shirt as well, feeling his abs and his muscles tensing under your fingers. You simply love everything single thing about Jimin and it's hard to keep your mind straight while he fucks you stupid.

He repeatedly hits your sweet spot, bringing you close to your high. He comes close to his orgasm too, grunting as his balls tighten.

"I'm close. Please, don't stop, Minnie," you plead, eyes watery and chest heaving rapidly.

"Me too, baby, me too," Jimin breathes out, his face just hovering over yours.

You both cum at the same time, your legs shaking like leaves and his hips steadying against yours. He shoots his cum into you, and there's a lot. If you weren't already pregnant, you'd thought he's trying to literally get you knocked up.

When he pulls out, his cum dribbles out of your pussy in amount, hole quivering from your previous orgasm. "Fuck, baby, you're so full," Jimin comments, amazed by how much cum comes out of your cunt.

You only hum tiredly, the ache between your legs finally gone.

But you know it'll come back very soon. You're lucky you have such a caring boyfriend.

#🍑 [drabble game]#requests #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts drabble #bts imagines #jimin fanfic #jimin fanfiction #jimin smut #jimin imagines #jimin drabble #jimin x reader

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olee · 3 months

Text

Mil Horas | Enzo Vogrincic

*for the request of enzo :)

English and Spanish

It has been a challenging experience for you to witness the effects of your boyfriend's acting career on his mental and physical health. Your boyfriend, Enzo, recently secured a role in the movie "Society of the Snow," to be honest, this was a big deal for him. This was his first acting gig in a movie, and it was directed by a renowned film director, J.A. Bayona.

The movie's plot is set around a group of people surviving in the Andes mountains, and it follows a gripping storyline that keeps Enzo on his toes. He had to narrate some scenes and play a significant role in the film, which was exciting and nerve-wracking.

However, as the filming progressed, Enzo began to feel mentally and physically drained. He had to work long hours, often late at night, and the pressure to perform well was overwhelming. He struggled to balance his regular life with his filming schedule, and this took a toll on his mental and physical health.

You have been a supportive partner, trying your best to help Enzo cope with the demands of his acting career. You hope he can overcome these challenges and emerge victorious, as this is a significant milestone in his career.

Enzo, the lead actor in the upcoming film, had to drastically change his lifestyle to meet the demands of his character. He was required to follow a strict diet plan, but his dedication to his role led him to take extreme measures. He skipped meals and pushed himself beyond his limits as if he were truly surviving in the wild. As his loved one, you were understandably concerned about his health and well-being. You even spoke to the film's director, Bayona, about Enzo's condition.

One day, Enzo called you on WhatsApp, looking pale and exhausted. He had just finished filming a scene in Barcelona and was feeling weak. You answered his call and asked how he was doing, but before he could respond, you interrupted him and urged him to take care of himself, "Enzo, por favor, necesito que me escuches. Te lo he dicho millones de veces y nunca me das bola. Por favor, cuídate, me tenés preocupada. Necesito que sigas la dieta, si no vas a tener una reacción fea." You reminded him repeatedly to follow his diet plan and emphasized that he did not have to take the role so seriously. You assured him that his health was more important than anything else, and advised him to take some time to relax and meditate.

He sat there at the open-air café, his complexion drained and expression distant, sipping on a cup of coffee. With a reassuring tone, he said, "My love, don't worry about me. I'm perfectly fine. Take a look, just enjoying a peaceful moment with a cup of coffee here, and I wanted to see you. Honestly, Barcelona is treating me well, but I miss you so much, and I really need you here." Unsure how to respond, tears welled up, and you confessed, "Enzo, I miss you too!"

Enzo, noticing your tears, adopted a more comforting tone. "I don't want you to cry. I'm fine. Barcelona is challenging, but I know we'll be together again soon. I miss your hugs, your laughter, everything."

As you spoke, the conversation became tinged with nostalgia. Enzo shared details of his days in Barcelona, enthusiastically describing places and situations. "I swear, I even miss your scoldings here. No one cares for me like you do, and that's what I'm missing."

Amidst sips of coffee, you discussed plans for the future, dreaming of the moment when you would be face-to-face again. "We'll be together again soon. Don’t worry."

The background music caught your attention as he showed you through his camera the charming street in Barcelona where he was seated. To your surprise, it was your favorite song, "Mil Horas" by Los Abuelos De La Nada. A smile spread across your face as you recognized the familiar tune.

Funnily enough, Enzo, caught up in the moment, started singing the song, “Tengo un cohete en el pantalón/Vos estás tan fría/Como la nieve a mi alrededor/Vos estás tan blanca/Que yo no sé qué hacer/La otra noche te esperé bajo la lluvia, dos horas, mil horas, como un perro/Y cuando llegaste, me miraste y me dijiste: ‘loco, estás mojado, ya no te quiero’”His voice, carried by the ambiance of the street, added a touch of spontaneity to the virtual encounter. Without a second thought, you joined in, singing along with him. The distance between you seemed to fade away as the shared love for the song created a delightful connection across the miles.

#enzo vogrincic #society of the snow #my writing #la sociedad de la nieve #uruguay #latina #spanish #enzo vogrincic x reader #enzo vogrincic fic #enzo x reader #fanfic #argentina #agustín pardella x reader #simon hempe #matias recalt #Spotify

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thebearer · 7 months

Text

the milestones menu: nonna berzatto's homemade pasta

prompt: yours and carmen's first "i love you".

contains: fluff, general fluff. some mentions to dead relatives, carmen's self doubt, but very minimal bc it's very fluffy :)

2 cups of flour- Semolina.

4 Large Eggs

Pinch of Salt

Put flour into a mound. Make a center, and add the eggs to the middle. Whisk slowly with a fork, gradually working it in little at a time until nice and thick. Knead the mixture for about ten minutes. Let it rest in the fridge for thirty minutes. Put it in a ball, and roll it out very thin.

“Can’t believe you never had homemade pasta.” Carmen shook his head, blue eyes peeking out from under the mess of curls.

“Nope.” You shook your head, grinning over the crystal wine glass, sipping your riesling slowly. “Strictly a boxed pasta girl.”

“Fuckin’ criminal.” Carmen grinned, a playful, lopsided smirk that had you blushing.

The counter was covered in flour, stopping just where you rested, propped up on the granite while Carmen worked. Your eyes trained on his hands, hands that stirred the eggs into the flour, kneaded the dough until your thighs were clenching.

“My Nonna is rollin’ in her grave right now, you know that?” Carmen pulled you from your gaze, rolling out the dough.

“Noooo, don't say that.” You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re making me feel bad, Carmen. I swear I thought Olive Garden made fresh pasta.”

Carmen laughed, a little shy but louder now- more himself. He’d blossomed with you lately, unveiling new parts of himself every single day. “‘M just kiddin’, baby.” Carmen hummed, eyes cutting to you a little skeptical. “Sorry, I-I didn’t mean to sound like an asshole. That sounded douchey, right?”

You smiled, setting your glass behind you. “No, I was just messin’ with you, bear.” The nickname- his nickname. Hearing it more and more roll from your tongue, each time his heart skipped harder than the last.

“Is this her recipe?” You asked, picking up the faded recipe card, looped cursive on the aged paper. “Your Nonna’s?”

“Yeah,” Carmen nodded. “I, uh, so when I left to go to culinary school, right? She was sick, and… and I think she, like, knew that when I went to New York that would be the last time she saw me.” Carmen’s face dropped, slow and sad, it made your own heart sink.

“So she-she gave me all these recipe books and-and cards that were hers. We used to cook together a lot. She taught me how to cook, y’know? My mom and dad were always at the restaurant and didn’t want to cook when they got home. They didn’t want me in the restaurant either so I spent a lot of time with her.” Carmen muttered. You could see the memories playing behind his eyes.

You liked to picture that version of Carmen, a little boy with wild curls, helping his Nonna cook. Happy memories.

“That’s sweet.” You smiled, leaning against the cabinets. “She did a really good job. You know she’s so insanely proud of you.”

Carmen snorted, shaking his head lightly. “Yes, she is. Everyone’s proud of you, Carmen… I’m proud of you.” You hesitate, eyes scanning his features. It was true, of course, but handling Carmen sometimes was like handling a frightened animal. You were never sure what would make him scatter away in fear.

Carmen swallowed thickly, cheeks flushed red, lips in a tight line. “T-Thanks.” Carmen muttered, wiping his hands on his apron, tossing the flour back into his clammy hands.

“She, uh, she woulda loved you, y’know.” Carmen’s eyes met yours, intense and piercing. “I wish you coulda met her.”

“Yeah, me too.” You nod. “I would’ve loved to hear all the baby Carmen cooking stories. I bet she had some good ones.” You smiled, bright and wide- perfect. It made Carmen’s brain numb.

“Yeah, she would.” Carmen nodded, hands stilling, still buried in the dough.

He felt it in his bones, his heart, consuming his thoughts. The overwhelming need he’d felt for weeks, since the first time you kissed him really, that he’d been fighting- too scared to say. What he felt every time he looked at you, when he thought about you.

“Um, I-I wanna say something, and-and I don’t know if I should even fuckin’ say this or-or if it’s… fuck, if you-you feel the same or I just, I don’t wanna fuck this up because this is like the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and-and I’m workin’ on not ruinin’ good shit in my life and bein’ ok with it like-like my therapist says ya know, but-” Carmen rambled, words spilling out in fast, overwhelming bouts that took you by surprise.

Carmen flustered, reaching a dough covered hand to his face, the sticky batter catching on his brows and hair. He flushed deeply, hands shaking in embarrassment, cursing under his breath. “F-Fuck, I-I’m sorry. I-I, nevermind, it’s not… I don’t know why-why I would-” His hands trembled, body shaking with anger and embarrassment. Way to fuckin’ go, Berzatto, you fuckin’ ruin it. That’s all you ever do, Carmen thought bitterly, wiping his hands off on the cloth.

“Carm,” You said softly, your voice a beacon in the raging sea of his mind, pulling him out of his own harsh thoughts.

Carmen turned, a fury flush of pure embarrassment that burnt all down his cheeks to his chest. Eyes soft and wary, hesitant like he was doomed, destined for the worse.

You slide off the counter easily, grabbing the spare towel, bringing it to his eyebrows, wiping the dough off gently. The softness of your touch soothed Carmen, lulling his hammering heart- he didn’t see your own shaking hands, filled with your own adrenaline nerves.

You stood in front of him, eyes on the other, careful and watching- unsure. “I-I love you, too.” Your breath hitched, squeezing the words out in a nervous tumble. Carmen didn’t move, body going rigid, heart stopping entirely. The ringing was back in his ears, clouding his brain so loudly he was sure he heard you wrong.

“I’ve wanted to say it for a while, too, but didn’t…” You shook your head, heat in your own cheeks, eyes casting down to his dough covered hand. “I didn’t know if-if you felt that or if- I don’t know, I didn’t want to seem crazy or obsessive if it was too soon, and-and scare you.”

“No,” Carmen croaked, tongue thick in his own mouth. “No, I-I mean- fuck,” Carmen shook his head, looking to the wall. He needed a second, words jumbled in his mouth, heart racing, so high off the adrenaline he felt like he could combust at any moment.

“I-I was gonna say that too.” Carmen nodded, the quirk in your lips making his heart lurch. “That I love you. I was- yeah, I love you. I-I have for a while.”

“Really?” You whispered, voice tiny and excited, like it was a secret just for the two of you. Maybe it was.

“Yeah, fuck yeah.” Carmen let out a breathy, shaky laugh. “I love you, and-and I just love you so much it makes my brain hurt sometimes.”

“Me too.” You grin, a hand pressing to his cheek. “I love you.” The phrase you’d repressed for so long, deprived yourself of saying now spilled out of you like a mantra- like that was all you could say now.

Carmen grinned, brain bubbly and light. He let you pull him into a kiss, head tilting down, lips molding over yours so they fit perfectly.

Later over plates of Bologonese, you grinned across the table from Carmen. “If I didn’t tell you I loved you before, I definitely would now.” You moaned, pointing at the plate. “I really was missing out.”

Carmen beamed under your praise, gooey and love drunk off your words- off you. He knew Viola Berzatto, wherever she was, was boasting with pride.

And he knew his Nonna would have loved you too.

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pigeonpeach · 3 months

Text

Mother and Father

A/n: Its genuinely wild to me how i went from like only porn bots following me to like actually 291 followers! It almost doesn’t feel real but I’m so grateful for you all! I held a poll earlier to determine who’d id write for as celebration for the milestone and arlecchino won! So here it is!

Prompt: how I met your mother

Arlecchino x fem reader

Your job wasn’t too easy, but it also wasn’t too hard. You loved kids. You found their antics amusing, you found it hard to suppress a smile when they looked so cute. With Arlecchino’s most recent addition: Lyney and Lynette however is when you truly came out of your shell.

The children watched as you sewed together their favorite teddy bear. A disagreement earlier led to the bear torn right down the middle.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…” one child cowered.

“You know better now, you guys have to be careful with these. We don’t get toys too often now.” You gently scolded. The other children seemed a bit surprised. Including the guilty ones.

“So… you aren’t mad?”

“Not that much. You’re kids, its natural that you may wreck your belongings. You must learn to be more careful and how to repair them. But you are too young Talia, I’ll teach you how to sew when you get a bit older. Then you can repair your own toys.” You pat her on the head.

“I’m sorry.. I’ll do better next time.” Talia looked down as you raised her face to meet yours.

“I’m not mad Talia, i just want you to be more careful next time that’s all. Okay?” You changed your tone to be more sweet. Talia teared up a bit. You out the bear aside as you used your hands to wipe her tears, you placed a kiss on her forehead.

“Okay… can I help in some way?” She asked.

“Yes. I want you to gather all the stuffing Mr Bear lost so i can put it back in him. Okay?” You said. She nodded as she set off to retrieve it.

It didn’t take too long for the kids to like you. You were sweet and soft spoken. Your hold was gentle and loving, and they’d come to love your kisses. Especially Lyney.

“Lyney you know you should be asleep, your father won’t like it if you wake up too early.” You gently chided. He stubbornly attached himself to your thigh even more so. “Lyney you know I can’t just stand around all day. I have to make breakfast.” You couldn’t even kneel down.

“No..no… where my lynette… wheres my sister?” He cried. You brushed his hair lovingly.

“Your sister is in the girl’s barracks now. I’m sorry it must be hard to get used to that.” You knelt down carefully as he nuzzled his face against you.

“Can.. I see her? Please?” He looked at you so sweetly how could you resist. You picked him up, resting him against your chest as you headed over to where Lynette would be.

“Just be quiet now. We don’t want to wake anyone up.” You said.

“Why are you up then? Father won’t let us out until 6am.”

“Because I’m her employee, you, are her child. My job is to prepare you all breakfast. And my only help is sick today.” You sighed. Lyney seemed to think for a bit.

“Maybe i could help you?” He said. You thought about it. It would be better than nothing.

“Alright then. Just be sure to not let Father catch you out so late.” You smiled. Opening the door to the girl’s barracks, you noticed Lynette stood up from her bed. Quietly she crawled off her bed and trotted over to you, her little tail swaying in a excited manner. You felt your heart melt seeing how happy she looked to see her brother. This was their first night apart. You gently let Lyney down as he immediately hugged her.

“Brother, did you sleep?” She asked innocently.

“Not well. I kept having nightmares.” He said. She seemed to understand. “Lynette, we must help today.” Lyney leaned into Lynette’s ear “She said she has to prepare breakfast alone.” He said. Lynette seemed to agree.

“Well you don’t have to. You two could just go back to sleep.” You said. They shook their head.

“No no.. we must help.” Lynette said. You sighed. You couldn’t say no to them. They were just cute and determined, Lynette in particular was such a cutie with the bowtie on her tail. You struggled to maintain your composure as your instincts screamed at you to just pepper kisses on her cute little face and hug her tightly. But you held back.

“Alright just be quiet.” You said. The three of you now set off to the kitchen. You realized quickly that it’d be difficult for them to help given how short they are.

Nonetheless the twins were persistent. They cracked the eggs with caution. Lyney eagerly scrambling them as you prepared the wok for it. Its not easy cooking for so many children. But you’ve gotten used to it. A lot of what they eat is prepared by rations sent by various companies partnered with the Fatui. But the children always preferred fresh scrambled eggs than the ones in the rations, you noticed that when you do so they’re far happier and more well behaved. The only problem is how much that requires.

“We’ve finished the first batch.” Lynette held out the bowl of liquid eggs with pride as you smiled. There was thankfully no shells you could spot. But you trusted she would notice. Lynette was the most observant.

“Hmmm.. yes this is satisfactory indeed. Get to start on the next one and we should be finished.” You said.

The children were delighted to have fresh eggs ready for them. Even if they weren’t actually fresh but just warm. You helped portion out each child’s plate which took almost forever. But hearing their happy little ‘thank you’s helped you feel better. The room was filled with chatter and laughter.

“I worry you spoil them too much.”

You jolted as you looked behind you. “A-arlecchino!” You were a bit surprised. “Its just that… they’ve been working so hard lately I wanted to reward them with something small.” You explained, trembling. The children fell silent as they watched with anticipation for her reaction. But Arlecchino didn’t seem upset, nor angry or sinister. She was always hard to read however.

“I see. Children.” She sai, every child looked at her with alertness. “Since your caretaker has gone out of your way to provide you a must delicious meal, I expect no slacking off today’s training yes?” She said with authority.

“Yes father!” The children said in unison.

“You may continue eating.”she then turned to you. “Did.. you buy these eggs yourself?” You nodded. “Your own money correct?” You nodded. She looked over you, her gaze feeling almost… warm? You weren’t too certain. “Don’t work yourself too much next time. If you want to arrange such rewards I’d be happy to help. As long as its within reason of course.” She said with a surprising softness. You gulped.

“Th-thank you. W-would you like some?” You smiled nervously. Little did you know in that moment was the start of her ever growing feelings for you. But she merely shook her head.

“I’ll have whats leftover. I have my own chef so I wouldn’t like to deprive the children of their food.” She said. “Keep up the good work. I’ll be looking forward to it.” She said walking away. You looked on in awe, you knew she was scary yes, but something about her didn’t seem nearly as menacing. You weren’t sure but.. it appears you made a good impression on her. The children looked at you, concerned until you smiled at them.

“And you ordered… 67 bags of flour for the orphans? Yeah right don’t they have rations.” The rude guard said. The seller seemed a bit upset at the guard too.

“I’ve already told you that I work for the house of hearth as a caretaker. What crime could i be committing with this much flour anyways? I paid for it, every cent is paid. What is your deal!” You were annoyed at this rate. The guard seemed to not back down.

“Well how do I know if you have some secret? Huh?”

“LEAVE HER ALONE!” A voice came from the crowd that formed. You recognized it as one of the children you cared for, a teenage boy named Andrej. “You are a officer are you not? Do you not know it is illegal to falsely accuse someone without a trial to prove one’s guilt first? You shameful man! You dare to use your power for what exactly?” You were a bit surprised at his actions. He’d always been so quiet when you handled him, you didn’t know he’d value you so much.

“Why you-“

“He’s right though. What exactly are you doing officer! Picking on innocent civilians!” Another joined in. You recognized them as Danica. The officer quickly seemed surprised.

“Well i-“

“Zip it! Just wait until the Knave finds out the guards have been unjustly harassing her employees.”

“Please calm down you two. There’s no need to get that worked up here.” You said, placing a hand on their shoulders. “We’ll just file a report and be done with it.” The guard looked shock as they backed off.

“Don’t mess with our mother.” Andrej whispered at him.

“Andrej told me you were harassed today?” Arlecchino asked as you just settled in the flours into the walk in pantry.

“Just a powerhungry guard. I can handle it.”

“It isn’t a matter of wether or not you can handle it. Its a matter of why he felt it was okay to do so in the first place.” She stood infront of you. Looking down. “My children adore you alot, they would do anything for you. But they also shouldn’t have to. Rest assured, that man will be dealt with.”

“I don’t want to cause trouble that’s all. I’m not that fragile.” You said.

“Its no trouble to me. You are very important for the children’s wellbeing and morale. Infact I was wondering if you could do full time. Increased pay, more breaks of course. Don’t worry about the walk home at night. You will have a escort.” She said. You felt quite surprised.

“I’ll take you up on that offer then.” You smiled. She seemed to calm down.

“Very good then. Next time, let them your children protect you, its their way of repaying your generosity.” She left then. But you wondered what she meant by ‘your’ children.

“I don’t want him to touch me no please!” You heard little Lynette cry in her sleep. You had been passing the barracks ready to clock out when your maternal instincts kicked in. You bursted through the door rushing to her bed. You sighed in relief seeing she was okay.

“Lynette?” You called. She moved in her sleep. “Lynette!” You sat by her side until she woke up. Her eyes teary as she backed away. “Its just me sweetie. Don’t worry I’m not going to hurt you.” You offered your hand to her, to your surprise she rubbed her face against it. She wiped her tears as she came closer to you.

“I had a scary dream.. that’s all.” She said.

“I know.. do you want to tell me about it?” You asked. She shook her head. “Alright then, how about I make you some tea?”

“Tea?” She asked. “Isn’t that for staying up? That’s what father drinks.”

“There’s a special one I have, its to relax yourself. Come.” You stood up, she followed suit as the other girls sneakily watched.

You set the kettle on the stove as you showed her the packet.

“This is the special tea, you don’t use this if you want to stay awake. See the packaging is purple. Use it sparingly though. Now we boil the water and when its warm enough we just add it in. You’ll see.” You said, Lynette watched observantly. You could still see she was a little bit shaken up.

“Can I ask you something?” Lynette seemed nervous, though her face was stoic, her hands fidgeted with her bow.

“Of course dear.” You smiled warmly at her. Unbeknownst to you some of the other girls had snuck out to head your conversation. Many unable to sleep as well.

“Father is.. well our father. Because she provides for us and guides us. I once heard that a mother is the one who gives warmth and love to a child.. you fit that definition perfectly to me.. it feels wrong to call you miss or caretaker so much… could I call you mother?” She asked. Your heart soared. You took a minute to steady yourself. “Did i say something wrong?”

“No-no… its just..” you wipe a tear before she could spot it. “I’d love that Lynette. I don’t mind being called mother if that’s what you or anyone else wants to call me.” You said smiling.

“But why are you crying then?” Another voice asked. A little girl hiding in the shadows with a few others.

“How ling have you been there.” You said confused.

“We couldn’t sleep.. we just wanted some tea too.” The other girl said.

“Very well. Don’t make this too much of a habit though. We don’t have enough teabags for everyone to have tea time.” You said.

As Arlecchino walked the halls intending to just head to her sleeping quarters, the echo of laughter came from downstairs. Skeptical she immediately descended the stairs, pausing to watch as you sat with 5 little girls in a circle drinking tea.

“See you hold out your pinky like this, then you take a few sips at a time.” You whispered. The girls followed suit. Arlecchino leaned against the wall as she felt a sense of pride in her cold heart. Something about you was warm, warmer than her vision, warmer than the sun, and gentler than any cotton. Something about you made her forget the curfew as she focused on how domestic of a scene it was. In that moment you weren’t her caretaker or her employee, but the mother to her children.

“Like this?” A older girl showed her cup. They were empty currently as you waited for the water to cool. The cup slanted, if it was full it would’ve scorched her lap. But you had been clever not to allow so.

“You still use your other fingers Tanya. Oh see, Lynette had got it.” You smiled. The other girls followed suit.

“What do adults use teatime for? It seems so long..”

“Well typically you do so to relax and unwind if you’re alone, or to talk with other adults in a more causal but still refined setting.” You explained.

“What do they talk about then?” Lynette asked. Arlecchino noticed how her tail would curve slightly as she and the rest of the children sat at one of the dinning tables.

“Buisness, personal life… boring stuff. But sometimes its gossip.” You smile. The girls seem intrigued.

“What kind?”

“Well.. I heard that allegedly, miss Trudane, a very upperlady, may have altered her unwed brother’s will to make herself the sole beneficiary to his estate.” You smile. The girls light up in shock and intrigue.

“Really? Wait is that true?”

“Sh! Mother said to be quiet remember.”

Arlecchino felt herself soften at that. The children we’re referring to her as mother.. if she was their father and they their mother then.. her heart blossomed as she clutched her chest composing herself. She strode in catching the group by surprise.

“Father.” The girls lowered their heads.

“I’m actually rather curious, how do you know that?” Arlecchino asked looking at you.

“O-oh well it is just gossip. I heard it through the grapevine that’s all.” You said nervously.

“Do you by chance have another cup available? I’d like some tea myself if you wouldn’t mind.” She said. The children seemed surprised and almost excited as you quickly agreed. Getting up to get another cup while she sat next to where you did. Lynette looking up at her with curiosity.

“Y-you’re not mad?”

“No. I myself couldn’t sleep actually. So I’ll let this slide, don’t let this become a habit.” She said.

After sending the children to bed you and Arlecchino were left. You kissed each girl on the forehead while she watched from the doorway. Sense of comfort placated her as she thought of you. How she wished she had a figure like you when she was younger. How you now provide a loving mother figure for her children that she has thought of being. You both exit closing the door.

“Its late, If you want I could escort you myself, or you could stay the night.” She offered.

“S-stay?”

“I have a guest room you can stay in. Its in the upper levels though.” She said. You noticed it began to rain outside.

“I suppose I’d have to… by the way.. did you hear the conversation where they asked to call me.. mother?” You asked.

“I didn’t but I see no problems with it. The children have been robbed of any normal family life, abandoned by their societies with no love in sight, how could I ever deny them a mother when they have you. You work so hard to make sure each one is loved and cared for.. I have a great deal of respect for you.” Your heart raced seeing her smile, a gentle and genuine warmth from her.

“Thank you. That- that means alot to me.” Your cheeks dusted with pink as you smiled.

You truly became irreplaceable in the eyes of your children. They all clamored to protect you at any given moment. You noticed while cleaning up some drawings what looked to be picture of you and Arlecchino, side by side like husband and and wife. In the style that many family portraits are often drawn. You felt a little warm thinking about it. Arlecchino is a terrifying woman yes but… she is so kind to you. She is so soft and gentle with you, she protects you, you feel very safe in her presence nowadays. And the children, they’ve become more happy with you around. They call you mother and her father, a bond that is almost romantic to you. Its almost a bit embarrassing to you because you two aren’t romantically involved. Yet it seems now the children expect it.. Today would be mother’s day, and you anticipated having alot of gifts.

You actually underestimated how many you would receive. A plethora of drawings you planned on putting in a scrapbook, a surprising amount of jewelry that the children would combine their savings to afford, and even a little origami crane from some of the creative children. Freminet’s gift was quite noteworthy to you as he gave you the most pretty clam you had seem. Lyney and Lynette had gifted you a most beautiful earring set along with heartfelt letters that had you in tears. The excitement died down however as the children were sent for today’s training session. You watched from afar as the kids participated in physical activities. To your surprise Arlecchino came over to you once more, in her hands she held a most delicate box. You were a bit confused.

“Its only appropriate I award the mother of my children handsomely. It is mother’s day afterall, so take this as a token of my gratitude.” She said. You carefully took it. The children from afar noticed you two as some watched expectantly.

“Are they going to kiss?” Talia whispered.

“Shh!”

Your jaw dropped seeing the most intricate necklace. It fit your style nicely as she smiled at you with the most soft of looks you had seen in anyone. Your heart beat fast as you noticed the slight red in her cheeks.

“Thank you so much.. I- i truly cannot thank you enough..” you smiled gratefully at her. In that moment there was a sense of love you felt, her hands gently taking the necklace from its box.

“Here let me put it on you.” She said. Her fingertips brushing against your skin as you realized she wasn’t wearing gloves. Oh how your heart raced as you looked in the mirror she offered.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” You said instinctively hugging her. Her hands in turn wrapped around your body.

“They’re hugging! Oh my gosh!”

“Talia be quiet father will hear you!”

Arlecchino’s gifts didn’t stop at mother’s day however. You frequently received flowers from her that you often used to decorate the house of hearth’s barracks or play areas, mainly because you ran out of space in your own home. Besides, you had been spending so much time here now that your house felt more like a hotel than a home at times. You were reading a book silently as the children gathered around reading in silence.

“Mother..” Lyney shamefully approached you as lynettr and freminet had their heads down. “Could I.. confess something to you?” You felt skeptical. What could he have done to warrant such shame? They weren’t troublemakers by any means, if he broke something then he wouldn’t be this upset…

“Go on.” You placed a book mark as you listened to him carefully. He leaned into your ear to whisper: “Lynette and I snuck in a stray cat we found.. and we have fed it for awhile now keeping it in the barracks.. but it must’ve gotten out because we can’t find it anywhere. Have you heard anything?”

“I know it was wrong but.. I couldn’t bare to see such a creature be homeless.” Freminet mumbled. You smiled.

“Oh dear you should’ve told me! I could’ve taken in the kitty myself and bring him with me here! But I’m sure your father wouldn’t mind having a cat here.” You patted his head. “I’ll help you look for him, you keep looking down here, I’ll go check out the upstairs.” You had a feeling the cat might’ve gone there.

Recently you had been allowed up there more and more so you simply bypassed the guards. You realized however you wouldn’t be allowed to check the rooms. You asked around finding nothing, you took a deep breath before knocking at Arlecchino’s office.

“Come in.” You opened the door to see the cat in question lounging on her lap. “I assume the children are looking for he correct?” She said, gently petting the cat.

“Yes actually. Could I convince you to let them keep her?” You sat across from her. You could hear the kitty purring in her lap.

“Of course.”

“You see-oh. I didn’t expect you would agree so easily.”

“Well, a cat is a useful companion. I’ve seen how the children try to sneak in strays or have formed close bonds with them and I see no reason to deprive them of those bonds. We can’t take in every stray yes but I have no reason to prevent them from bringing a cat. Dogs are another issue, they cause messes and may be more difficult. But this cat is quite well behaved. In fact, she came in here herself.” Arlecchino “she may be good for mice control too. In the winter months is when mice tend to invade homes more. So her timing is perfect. Besides, she is such a beautiful tabby. Orange females are quite rare.” You relaxed seeing how she seemed quite fond of the kitty.

“That’s a relief, I’ll let Lyney know the cat is safe with you.”

“Actually could you take her with you? I have to leave in a bit and she won’t get up on her own accord.”

“Of course.” You approached her to scoop the kitty up as it meowed in confusion. Arlecchino’s eyes were on your chest that became slightly more exposed as you leaned down. “Thank you again Arlecchino, I’ll make sure that cat doesn’t trouble you.”

“Its no problem at all. So long as she makes you and the children happy.” Arlecchino smiles.

“Mother… why don’t you and father kiss?” That question had you shocked. You looked at the child in question as you tried to figure a way to explain it.

“Yeah mommies and daddies always kiss. That’s what my friend told me..”

“Maybe they kiss in private?”

“We don’t kiss no.. your father and I aren’t in a relationship like that.” You cleared your throat trying to regain composure. The children seemed a bit sad at that.

“Why not?” One kid asked.

“Because we just aren’t. Now go play with that cat.. or something.” You quickly took a step back to compose yourself. Watching the kids interact with each other as you fanned your face trying to calm down. But why did the thought or suggestion of that even make you feel this way? How come you felt so warm in the face? You sighed as you tried to clear your head of it.

Were you in love with her? Your boss? A literal harbinger? You knew people died by her hand.. but.. the way she holds little Lynette’s hand.. the way she her hands may suddenly find themselves on your shoulder slowly becoming more of a familiar sensation, her presence doesn’t actually frighten you as much as it used to. You’re more nervous if anything, that she’ll see through your eyes how you truly feel about her. The kids love you two, calling you mother and her father, she refers to you as the “mother of her children”! How could you not feel so tingly and feathery inside! She’s become so alluring too. You once found her scary and intimidating but now… oh you secretly crave her. She is such a menacing woman.. is it bad that you want her? Your employer?

You sighed as you were taking your break, getting lunch at a simple cafe with a nice coffee to clear your mind. You thought about your children with her, not by blood yes but by heart. They call you mother, they bring you gifts, your birthday is never forgotten anymore. You’ve truly come to see them as your own now. You have to remind yourself at times that you didn’t bare these children. That some heartless people let them sat on the streets without taking them home, you could never imagine so. Especially Lynette and Lyney, a most adorable duo. How could anyone ever hurt such innocent souls?

From what you know, the previous Father was far crueler than her. Freminet told you of how he scolded them for crying or weakness, how he lied about his mother’s death to him.. how Arlecchino had slain him and taken his place, how she had slain the man who tried to hurt Lynette… you felt a bit warm knowing the children had such a fearless protector now. And you too were apart of the family she established… maybe its not the worst thing to be in love with your employer, especially in these circumstances. But for the sake of your job and your work relationship you simply can never act on these feelings. You don’t want to ruin things between you and her..

“You called?” You opened the door to her office. You noted how Arlecchino’s blazer wasn’t on. Revealing her under shirt… her dark hands.. oh… should you really be looking?

“Yes I did, come in. I don’t bite.” She said. You approached her timidly. “I just wanted to reward you for such hard work. You’ve truly helped shape this place into a far more comfortable environment. I almost feel envious that it wasn’t like this when I was growing up.” She smiled at you. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered uncomfortably so.

“That means alot to me. I really just have a soft spot for children.. I adore them greatly and.. it hurt to see them be in such pain.” You said.

“Yes. But I wanted to invite you to dinner sometime.” She said. You froze.

“Dinner?” You said. She nodded.

“Yes, You’ve done so much for me that I feel as though I’m in your debt almost. You’ve gotten even the most disrespectful of children under control and you single handedly made this a home rather than a house for these children. I feel as though as the father I must reward you even more than I have.” She said, relishing in the slight red on your cheeks.

“I-i see.. but the children seem to think of us as… partners… I haven’t really been able to properly explain to them that we aren’t… you know.. dating..” you said.

“I don’t mind that assumption, that is if you’re fine with it.” She replied. You felt even more nervous. “Do you want to go to dinner with me? I’ll have a reservation for the most extravagant of restaurants. I’ll pay for the bill of course.”

Your mind raced, was this a confession?

“I’d love to.. if you’re fine wit-“

“I’m with it. I wouldn’t offer this if I wasn’t.” She assured. You felt such a rush of adrenaline.

“Th-thank you.. I- I.. I look forward to it.”

“If you want you could spent the night here.” Arlecchino offered. “I’ll let you stay in my room. I’m going to be spending most of my time in the office anyways”

“I.. if you’re okay with that then sure..” you said nervously. It was pouring outside as you debated how to get home at this hour. You followed her upstairs as you felt a bit nervous. This was a big step in your relationship afterall. Sleeping in her bed.. it feels so intimate.

“Here.” She opened the door to her bedroom. It was incredibly red, it was very intricate and detailed as you would expect a harbinger to have. The pillows more for decoration than comfort. You looked around as she watched you awe the room. “You can sleep on here whenever you like, as long as you aren’t working of course. But make yourself at home here.”

“I will thank you.” You said. She closed the door, her high heels clicked as she went to her office. You felt so timid. You looked in the closet out of curiosity, noticing there was two. They were both huge but one was empty. You realized she probably got the other for your clothes.. it made sense. You would eventually move in of course but it almost delighted you to know how thoughtful she was. She was already planning ahead.

That night you woke up to the door slamming. You jolted awake to see Arlecchino closed the door quickly as she undressed almost immediately. You felt quite flustered as she seemed to pay you no mind. She didn’t seem in the mood for conversation now so maybe you should keep quiet. You laid back, the moonlight was the only light as you noticed the unmistakable red stain coating the sleeves of her jacket. She then paused, turning to you.

“Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you.” She said in a low voice.

“I- just… um..” I’m a little startled that’s all.” You said.

“You should get used to it. This home I’ve made is still nonetheless a fatui organization.” She said, she didn’t seem like she was in a good mood at all.

“I know… how often do you come home like this?” You ask.

“Ideally not so much. But realistically its not uncommon.” She answered. You nervously bit your lip as silence settled between us. Once cleaned and changed however she sighed. “I’m sorry if I frightened you.” She walked over to press a kiss to your cheek.

“No no you’re right. I should just get used to this.” You said. She seemed pleased with that response.

“I have some things to finish up before bed, best not to wait for me now.” She said before leacinf without another word. You silently wondered if you had known what you were getting into by accepting her offer. But it was too late now. You weren’t going to ditch now. You’ll get through it, this time with her by your side.

#genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #domestic fluff #arlechinno genshin #wlw

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