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melancholyhigh · 1 year

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ARTWORK

ft. leon x artist!reader

synopsis. you're an artist, and leon's your muse.

content. 1.5k words. fluff, smut. nude painting, leon's pov, needy leon, praise kink, masturbation, handjob.

note. this was j supposed to be fluff but i got ahead of myself.

masterlist. i love your guy's feedback :3

“Paint me like one of your French girls.”

You laugh at Leon’s statement. He’s perched on the small, green couch in your home art studio, wearing nothing but his pink, fluffy robe as you prepare your oil paints.

“You’re my first French girl, Leon.”

–-

You had suggested painting him nude while you were both in bed, lazing around. You’re in each other’s hold, Leon’s arms around your waist and face on your chest when he asks about any new projects you had in mind.

He loves hearing about what art piece you were doing or planned to do. It was how you expressed yourself, whether there was a deeper meaning or none at all. He found it beautiful. Every work you do it had a bit of your personality in it. He could tell your work from thousands by the intricate details they carry.

When you told Leon you wanted to paint him, he wasn’t too surprised. You mentioned he was your favourite thing to draw or think of when you had art block. The admission had left him sputtering, his face red as he tried to get his words out.

On the third date, you showed him your sketchbook, pages littered with drawings and portraits of him. Some were quick sketches, while other’s looked like you took time to get every detail of him.

You’re always on my mind, Leon. You had confessed. Was it a little creepy? At that moment, flipping through the drawings of him, the attention to detail they held, he’d say it was romantic.

People have always said he was pretty as a picture, yet you’re the only one that makes his heart beat faster and his tummy fill with butterflies when you say he’s the type of gorgeous you’d find in a painting.

“A nude painting,” you specify. It was as if you told Leon he was the object of your affection for the first time again. His head buries into your chest, trying to hide his flushed face. You smile at his sudden bashfulness.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, baby.” You run your fingers through his soft hair. “I want to try something new, but it’s okay. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“‘S fine, angel. But can’t you use a picture?”

“Where’s the fun in that, pretty boy.”

He groans, muffled by your shirt, and you giggle.

He loves to please you — in more ways than one — and nothing compares to the smile that graces your face, so he agrees. It’s not like Leon’s uncomfortable with you looking at him bare and vulnerable. There were other problems he was worried would interrupt your craftwork.

–-

Leon leans back into the couch, doing just as you instructed. His bare back hits the soft cushioning, and it’s surprisingly comfortable.

His robe is off, on the floor next to your easel. He rests his chin on his hand, supported on the arm of the couch.

He’s nervous. You said it’s nothing you haven’t seen before, but this almost feels more intimate than being intertwined with you in bed.

Maybe it’s the gaze you hold when you’re analysing him, grasping the compositions and layering basic shapes onto the canvas.

He can’t help but think of when you told him he’s your favourite canvas to mark up. Sucking the reddish marks into his skin which turn the prettiest shade of purple, as you like to put it. Or when you said the colour on his cheek was your favourite shade of pink.

You always did like to rile him up, muttering the filthiest things to him in the most mundane setting, just like right now.

“Spread your legs wider, Leon.” You mumble in a casual tone as if you don’t know the implications of your own words. You’re so engrossed with getting your work right you probably don’t.

It’s so fucking sexy seeing you in your element. Your brows pinched together, and your face serious with concentration.

He obediently listens to you, parting his legs wide, and the problem he wishes wouldn’t happen is currently hardening between his thighs. You don’t notice, mixing paints to ensure it's the correct shade.

You’re probably 30 minutes into painting, and he’s already hard. You said you’d take a while to finish, and he could tap out whenever he wants to, but he doesn’t want to disappoint.

Finally, you’re looking up from the canvas and towards Leon. Your brows quirked up in surprise when trying to examine his features, studying the curve of his nose and the sharpness of his jawline to imitate on the canvas. His face is pink, the shade you know and adore so much.

Your eyes trail down his body, his dick fully erect, slapping against his stomach. Your gaze is on his face again with a smirk on your lips.

He knows, you know, he’s rock-hard simply from the glances you take at him and the words you mutter. His lashes flutter, and he moves his hand to cover his face while the other is shamefully obscuring his cock.

“Be a good boy, and don’t move, Leon. I want to make sure everything looks good.” You say, and he thinks you aren’t going to acknowledge his 7-inch problem.

“Oh, and make sure your pretty dick is hard for me, okay, baby?” You go back to your painting, trying to hide your smug expression.

His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows his nerves, but he relents, going into position, not before giving his cock a firm squeeze.

“Don’t cum too, okay? I want to be the one making you cry.”

A few hours pass, and Leon is on the verge of tears. He listened to what you said, only providing himself with enough stimulation to keep his cock hard but not enough to tip him over the edge into bliss.

Precum leaks from the head down to the shaft. His dick is red and spent. He wants nothing more than for you to stop painting and make him cum.

“I’m almost done. You’ve been such a good boy for me, baby.”

Your words are almost enough to make him spill his cum over the expensive fabric of your eccentric couch.

You’re adding the finishing touches to the painting with each stroke, making sure you get the placement of each mole or freckle correct and each vein of his cock following to the tip right.

You swear he belongs in a museum. No art can replicate how beautiful he truly is.

“I’m done.” You sigh, moving to get up to rid your skin of paint.

After rinsing yourself off the paint, you make your way to Leon. You get comfortable in a seat on the couch right next to him. He’s breathing heavily in anticipation, looking up at you through his long lashes. Pretty, pink lips parted as pretty gasps left him.

You cup his face, pressing your lips to his. The kiss is soft as you move your lips slowly in unison. He breathes out your name when you pull away. One of your hands moves to his throat, softly squeezing. Leon whimpers, his hands moving to hold your waist.

“Good job, baby. You didn’t cum once. I know it hurts, but I'm going to make you feel better,” you whisper, softly kissing his flushed forehead.

Your hand moves to his pulsing cock, and gives it a soft squeeze, relishing the whine Leon lets out. Your touch sends goosebumps along his skin, and he plants his head into the crook of your neck.

His hips eagerly buck into your hold. He’s practically sobbing into your neck, his soft hair tickling the underside of your jaw. You rest your chin on top of his head, smelling the fragrance of his shampoo.

You thumb the slit on the tip of his cock, using his precum as a lubricant to start moving your hand back and forth on his shaft.

You start at a slow pace. You don’t want Leon cumming quickly, wanting to enjoy every cry and whimper.

The soft shlick noise of you jerking Leon’s cock fills the room with his desperate cries. He pulls back away from the crook of your neck, tears flowing down his blushing face.

“Please, please, please, g– go faster, angel. I’ve been such a good boy for you. Let me cum, please.” He pleads, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes. His hips rutted frantically into your palm. How could you deny your boy?

“Okay, pretty baby. Cum for me.” You say softly, picking up the pace of jerking him off.

He whimpers loudly, thighs quivering lightly as his orgasm crashes and hot spurts of his cum spill onto your hand. He’s panting, dazed with lust and staring at you with what seems like hearts in his eyes.

“T- thank you, thank you, s’much.” Leon gasps like a broken record, and you think he’s fucked himself dumb with your hand.

You peck his lips, effectively shutting him up.

“Let’s get you cleaned up so I can show you my favourite artwork yet.”

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #re4 remake #resident evil 4 #leon kennedy x you #leon s. kennedy #leon kennedy smut #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil #leon kennedy resident evil #resident evil smut #reader insert #smut #re4 smut #re4 #✩‧₊˚ fics

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kteezy997 · 10 months

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The Candy Man- Part Two//W.W.

Warnings: smut, bathtub sex, curse words, some dirty talk, Willy wanting to fill reader with his cum

You couldn’t stop thinking about him. Your candy man, your Willy Wonka. You were convinced that his wonder-filled green eyes were burned into your memory forever. Your mind raced with images of his springy dark curls, his creamy pale skin, and his big cock that filled you to the brim. Your pussy ached just thinking about it.

It was a week to the day that he came knocking again. Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest when you opened your door to reveal Willy: brown top hat, purple coat, and the sweetest of smiles.

“I can’t believe it’s you.” you uttered dreamily. Your prayers had been answered: Willy had come back.

“Hey, y/n. I’m sorry to bother you.”

“Oh, you’re certainly not bothering me.”

Willy smiled kindly at you, then continued, “I have just been thinking about you, and I wonder if maybe what happened was wrong. I mean, it was absolutely wonderful, but you are a married woman. I would hate for your husband to find out-"

You cut him off as he was speaking, “Don’t worry, Willy. He will never know. It’s our little secret.”

“Oh,” he nodded, “alright then. That’s great. Um,” he looked down at his boots, shyly, “do you mind if I come in? There was something else I wanted to ask you.”

“Oh yes, of course, come in!” you said, maybe a little too enthusiastically, and you stepped aside, letting him by.

Willy walked over to the couch, rubbing his cold hands together. He did look rather cute with his rosy cheeks and slightly pink nose from the briskness outside. “You really should stay inside today, it’s too cold for you to be out there, y/n.” he said.

You blushed at his sweet words, “Should I get you some hot tea to warm you up? Or maybe some coffee?”

“No, no, I really don’t want to trouble you.” he insisted, “Come, sit with me if you would?”

You obliged him, and sat down next to him.

"Look, the real reason that I came by is to ask you if...it was okay, what I did? Was it any good?" Willy cleared his throat, apprehensively, "Did I do a good job?"

You laughed and touched his hand, "Yes, you did. I came twice, Willy. You were a natural. Better than my husband, might I add. And I've been having sex with him for years now. Well, not hardly at all lately, but that's neither here nor there." you shrugged.

"It's just that it was my first time, and I wanted to be sure that you enjoyed it as much as I did." his cheeks became a little bit flushed again, but it was not from the cold this time.

"I definitely did, Willy." you said sincerely, intertwining your fingers with his.

He softly squeezed your hand and nonchalantly looked over to the fireplace area. He shuddered ever so slightly, "That rug."

"Does it do things to you like it does to me? The memory?" you purred as you leaned in close to his ear with an idea creeping into your mind. You bit your lip.

"Yea-yeah, it does. I remember exactly what you looked like laying on that rug.” he turned to look in your eyes. The tension was palpable as your faces were just a few inches apart. “I can't get you out of my head, y/n."

"Ya know, I was about to draw a bath for myself before you came knocking, would you like to get in with me?"

"More than anything." Willy blurted out without hesitation.

.......

Willy had gotten into the hot water first, and you straddled his lap. With the both of you in the tub, the water level was dangerously high. But even if it were to spill onto the bathroom floor, you didn't notice. You were ravaging his lips, and he ran his wet hands all over your body, above and under the water.

Steam rose up from the water, creating a sweltering atmosphere. Your bodies were flushed.

You sank down onto his hard cock, and he rutted up into you. You cried out in pleasure as it slid all the way in. Your breasts bounced, tapping the surface of water and splashing in Willy's face. You grabbed his cheeks and kissed him sloppily as you fucked.

You did your best to grind your hips and keep up with him, but it was a losing battle. You were quickly brought to an orgasm with how fast he was thrusting up into you.

You whimpered as your body went limp, but Willy put his arms around you, and continued to pump his cock in and out. "Oh my God! Willy…Willy Wonka!" you cried, having never felt so good in all your life.

"I gonna come, y/n." he stuttered as his pace slowed and he thrusts became sloppy. He grabbed handfuls of your ass, and gave you a few more strokes as he kissed your face. He groaned in a huff, and you felt his cum filling your pussy.

You hugged him tightly, just needing to be close to him. Willy nuzzled into your neck and you rested your chin on his head. You put your hand on the back of his head, his curls at the nape of his neck were soaked as you pet them.

He looked up at you, his arms still linked around your body, "Kiss me?"

You leaned in and smashed your lips to his, "Mmm." you moaned happily against his mouth. You pulled away and he snuck in another peck to your swollen lips. You put your hands on either side of his chiseled cheekbones, "My angel candy man, dropped on my doorstep, so yummy and cute, with a cock made by the devil." you grinned, kissing him again. You couldn’t get enough. He was addictive like chocolate.

Willy chuckled, "I don't want to be done yet. Need to fill you with more of my cream.”

"Ugh, yes, treat me like one of your fine chocolates, Willy. Fill me, I want it.” you begged, moaning into his lips in another eager kiss.

"Turn over, please?" he asked, in between pecks, puppy dog eyes in full effect.

You couldn't deny his request. He was all you wanted, all you thought about and longed for, and you were going to take him as long as you wanted, as long as he was there. You nodded, swirling yourself in the water so your back was to him. Willy pushed you forward, careful to keep your head above water, and he pulled your hips up. With your ass to the surface and facing him, he held your waist, and slid his dripping wet cock inside you again.

"Ah!" you moaned as he thrusted fast, splashing the water and making it slosh out on the floor. The bathroom was filled with the loud splashing noises he created. You braced yourself on the bottom of the tub with your hands. The bath water sprinkled your face and hair with warm droplets as you took Willy's cock over and over.

After a moment, he let out a huff and you felt him release inside you once more. "Wheeew, sorry y/n. It may take more practice for me to last longer." his breathing was uneven as he spoke. He leaned over your back to leave a kiss on top of your head.

"No," you panted, "it's alright, it was amazing. You bring me more chocolate next week and we’ll practice some more.”

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @chalametbich

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothee x reader #timothée imagine #timothee chalamet smut #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka #wonka #wonka 2023 #wonka movie

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the-palelady · 7 days

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listen. if you don’t like sabrina carpenter that’s fine, but that woman’s outfits are so stunning and i can just imagine ghost going absolutely mad seeing you in them.

especially in something like THIS. that man would go absolutely fucking feral.

normally he would be ripping your cute little outfits and lingerie at the seams, but oh no, not this one. the baby blue just looked so perfect, hugging your curves in all the right places. he had to keep this outfit safe no matter the cost.

one night, you slip it on right before he comes home from work, and set yourself up all pretty for him. your hair fanning out across your face, skin glowing, an angel amongst a sea of blankets and pillows right there on top of his bed.

simon’s angel.

and oh he is on his knees for you.

he’d worship every last inch of your body. those perfect, round tits that he’d suck into his mouth eagerly. he’d kiss down the plump of your tummy, the dip of your hips, until he’s nestled in between your legs.

he’d kiss along your inner thighs, moving his thumb up to rub at your sensitive nub, your back arching up into him, whining out his name like the pretty little thing you were.

simon would take his time with you. always does. he doesn’t want to hurt his girl when he finally does settle himself in between your legs, his cock heavy and sliding against your folds. the lingerie is still on, panties tugged to the side around his thumb.

“all this for me?” he’d ask in that deep, loving voice, reserved only for you. strands of his golden hair, that have grown out a bit more than usual, stick to his forehead. a handsome grin is plastered along his scarred face, lust filled eyes gleam down at you and you’d whine.

god you loved him so much.

and he’d let you know he felt the same, wrapping his hands around the curve of your waist while he pressed himself into you. pressed himself into heaven.

“look at ya. so pretty.” you swear you hear him whine.

“takin’ me so well like a good girl.” this time you whine.

his thumb comes up to rub at your clit again while he pistons into you relentlessly. his tip hits that sweet spot so deep inside that you see stars and he backs off for a moment before hitting it over and over again.

your moans only encourage him further, his free hand roaming you like he can’t keep off of you, can’t get enough of you.

he grabs your jaw, your lips pursing from his grip. simon looks down at you with an expression so feral you could have orgasmed from that alone.

“gunna fill ya fulla me, sweet’art, that alright?”

you whine and beg for him.

yes. please, simon. inside, please.

“sing for me, angel. i wanna hear tha pretty voice.”

and you do sing for him. his name falling from your lips like a hymn, a gentle song only meant for his ears. simon can’t help but hold onto you tighter, gruff hands digging into the meat of your hips as you clench around him so tight he feels dizzy.

and he all but loses his damn mind, fucking you into the mattress despite how overstimulated you are. tears stain your pink cheeks and he thumbs them away, pressing into you so far you can feel him in your guts.

simon’s rambling, his forehead pressing into your temple as you cry out, your tears dampening his cheeks.

“ya look like a fucking goddess in this damn outfit. so beautiful. dunno wha tha fuck i did in my past life, but damned brute like me doesn’t deserve ya.”

he won’t stop talking. it’s all so much, yet the praise is sending you over the moon. your skin is on fire where his thrusts meet your ass, and you know there will be purple hand shaped bruises blooming along the expanse of your body when the morning comes.

“fuckkk,” his hips stutter slightly, your core becoming tight as he pulls himself completely out and slams himself right back to the hilt continuously.

“gunna breed this pretty pussy,” and you clench around him so fucking tight he almost collapses, a guttural moan escaping his chapped lips.

“ya like that, baby? want me to make ya a mummy?”

your back arches and you scream for him, white consuming your vision. simon’s hands grab ahold of your plump thighs and his hips roll down into you one last time. he twitches inside of your warmth while his spend coats your velvety walls. his arms reach up to wrap around your torso that’s still arched, his forehead pressing into your ribs as he catches his breath.

you both sit this way for a while, until he regains his composure and lowers your tired body back down to the bed.

when he sits up right your eyes are closed, long lashes tickling the apples of your blushing cheeks. your breathing is even now, and your skin is somehow glowing even more than it was when he first walked in. your hair cascades out around you like a wave. his palm hesitantly glides up along your tummy as if taboo. as if someone like him was undeserving of someone as soft as you.

and simon swears when he looks up at you, taking you in completely, he sees the glow of a halo above your head and a pair of angel wings nestled against the silk sheets of the bed beneath you.

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cocteaucherry · 9 months

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another silly gojo thing I wrote with pregnant reader (I was inspired by Kali’s pregnancy announcement 🩷)

a/n- (I promise pt 3 of LTLM is coming out later today or tomorrow)

cw- pregnancy, talks of sexual situations, gojo being gojo :p

The day Satoru found out you were pregnant was a day you’ll never forget.

It was a freezing morning in January and you had just finished taking down the Christmas decorations (yeah it was a few weeks after Christmas but you both were lazy) you let out a huff wiping your hands as you stared at the old cardboard boxes that housed the glittery decorations, it made you feel more emotional than usual seeing yet another year pass.

You heard the door burst open and you turned to find your husband dragging in a bunch of wires and lights, “ six hundred twinkling lights taken down by your one and only!” He exclaimed, dropping the lights and using his foot to close the door, “you sure? I could’ve sworn I heard you on the verge of using Hollow Purple.” You said playfully as you gazed lovingly at your husband.

“What?! No! I was of course gonna take you out of the house first!” The blue eyed male chuckled as he walked towards you immediately wrapping his arms around your waist, “I think I deserve a kiss for my bravery and perseverance.” He hummed his hands running over the slight pudge in your stomach, “Do you really?” You peered up at his face to be met with a very shocked expression, you chuckled nervously staring at his over exaggerated face.

Gojo could tell something was off for the past few days, frequent bathroom trips, slight nausea in the morning and your missed period. (He might be the strongest but he’s not the smartest) and now your cursed energy was changing he sensed it when he walked in it was almost doubled. “I mean this is the BEST way possible, let me stress BEST, are you somehow maybe- just a little bit ermm.. pregnant?”

Your mind went blank at the question, “Maybe?” You shrugged your shoulders, “it would make sense..” your mind tried to calculate the last time you and Gojo were intimate but Gojo calculated for you, “Christmas.” He said his mouth was still wide open, “yeah , maybe wrapping myself like a present wasn’t the best idea.” You giggled and Satoru was quick to retort with a red face, “you practically had nothing on! You can’t blame me!” Gojo pouted, rubbing the back of his neck, “can we go buy some tests to confirm your theory?”

About seven tests later it was confirmed, you were pregnant.

Of course tears and hugs were shared and you wanted to share the news with your friends but Gojo stopped you claiming he wanted to see how long you both could go unnoticed, he also opted to buy a camcorder to track your happy moments. It was more of a nostalgia thing. (Even while you're pregnant he’s still dramatic.)

By the time you were breaching your second trimester a lot of things changed, for worse and better, the spare room in your house was converted into a full baby room, all constructed by gojo himself since he was terrified of you getting injured. The baby room was filled with expensive baby materials and toys, “Satoru.. are you sure this isn’t too much?” You stared at the room in disbelief, your hand stroking your bump, He grunted, placing a heavy box with more materials down, “What? Think I can go bigger?” He winked and opened the package.

“We don’t even know the gender yet? you yelled walking down the hallway to lay down.

Everyone in Satoru’s life knew something was up, he walked with more pep in his step and glowed even more than he already was.

“So does anyone know what’s up with Gojo-sensei?” Yuji questioned sitting on his bed, Kugusaki and Megumi on the floor visibly not listening. “Don’t know, don’t really care either.” Megumi deadpanned which earned a grin from Kugisaki, “Not sure Yuuji, have you tried asking his wife?” she asked, peering from her phone. “She hasn’t been around here in like months!” The pink haired boy exclaimed failing to connect the dots but Megumi did for him.

“Maybe she’s expecting.” He shrugged it off going back to type on his phone, “What?! You mean they-they-“ yuuji stuttered.

“Yuuji they are adults, plus it would make sense right after the holidays too. So she’d be about.."Kugisaki counted in her head, “second trimester?”

“You guys are taking this a little too well?!” Yuuji exclaimed, “oh Kugisaki and I made our own theory a few weeks ago-“

“And you didn’t tell me?!-“

Later that day you had a teary eyed pink haired teenager yapping at the door about how you didn’t tell him sooner.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu x reader #x reader #jjk imagines #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo fluff #satorugojo #pregnancy #pregnant reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you

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hades-in-bloom · 1 year

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Scars

Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

summary: thinking of Leon’s scars (with a little bit of touching).

warnings & contents: fluff; assumed older Leon (more of RE6 and Vendetta, although I keep using ID! to illustrate); could be age gap, could be none; lots of cuddling; mentions of violence (sorta); the reader could be any gender; no mentions of y/n

a/n: a blurb, because I can. As always, proceed at your own risk. Minors DNI! Masterlist xoxo

soundtrack: billie eilish — when the party’s over

***

Leon’s figure was resting on top of the bedsheets, his bare back exposed to one’s curious sight with his features relaxed, while he was catching up on hours of sleep he was deprived of this week; thanks to another one of those excruciating missions. You couldn’t hold back a small smile; he looked so peaceful, lying there with disheveled dirty blonde hair and not a glimpse of worry on his face—something you would die to see more often after everything he has endured.

You were doing your best to stay as quiet as humanly possible so you wouldn’t wake him up when your gaze got drawn to the network of scars, interspersed with moles, scattered across his pale skin. There were a couple of fresh bruises flourishing into purple and yellow blobs, too, adding to a rich picture. You winced like you could feel his pain. You’d never get used to seeing him this way—seeing him hurt.

Your touch was lighter than one of a feather when your fingers slid over one of his scars, tracing its shape slowly, with care. This one seemed to be old, fading away over the years, thus one of the rarest ones—as there were many more those anew, coming in different shapes and shades of pink. It didn’t matter, though, how many of them were on Kennedy’s body—you knew them all, keeping the count.

You pulled your hand away in a swift motion as you felt Leon stir. He was still half-asleep when he opened his eyes a crack, his gaze fixed on your features. You looked guilty.

“Hey,” he muttered hoarsely with a faint smile. He didn’t sound irritated—rather exhausted. “Can’t keep your hands off of me, sweetheart?”

You chuckled softly as you eliminated the distance between the two of you, and then rested your head on the edge of his pillow. His hand immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake you up.” You pressed your lips against his forehead. You kept your voice barely above the whisper, hoping he’d be able to go back to sleep.

He hummed, “It’s okay,” with his eyes almost shut again, as his mind stayed in the half-place between awakeness and dreams. His thumb caressed your side mindlessly, soothing himself down.

You put your hands on his back in a kind of hug, feeling the bumps of his scars under your fingers.

“You have never told me their stories,” you said quietly, cradling him with your touch.

Leon’s body tensed slightly, his face now hidden in the crook of your neck. His warm and even breathing sent shivers down your spine.

The man became silent for a moment, taking his time before he replied, “I don’t believe these are stories that I should make you listen to.”

He preferred not to bring his work home.

You didn’t insist—you have always respected his choices. You left a kiss on his temple while Leon hugged you tighter.

“I’ll listen to anything you’d be willing to tell me, handsome.”

He smiled; you could feel his lips stretching out on the skin of your neck. It wasn’t a trust issue; Kennedy could tell that much—but he needed time to gather the courage to drag you into his waking nightmare.

“Maybe one day, sweetheart,” Leon sighed deeply, his tone calm as he admitted; his eyes now closed. “Maybe one day.”

You spent the next minutes running fingers through his hair until he drifted back into a blissful sleep.

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sh1-n0bu · 2 years

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♡︎ 𝙞 𝙙𝙤 𝙖𝙙𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ♡︎

anon asked: nobu could you do something with scara and feminization?? thank you!

characters: sub!scaramouche x nb!dom!reader

warnings: edging, overstimulation, praise, dacryphillia, feminization, just scara fucking himself stupid on your cock, as always cock can also mean strap on

notes: i gotchu nonnie, i gotchu😌 also scara is a bit of a yandere here ig??? this came out much more softer than i imagined. as a fellow scara-nation person, SCARA NATION COME GET YALL FOOD🗣

reposting bc tumblr has started a war against someone they can’t beat by deciding to suddenly flag my posts as mature

“aah! aanhg! m-mine. mine mine mine! only mine! n-no one else’s! mine! minemineminemine-gyaah~!”

bouncing on your lap with a cute purple, lace lingerie and stocking on was your sweet boyfriend. eralier today when you had your friend and co-worker drop by your house to drop off some of your work documents, scaramouche saw how awfully close you two seemed. your friend even gave you a hug! so he decide to surprise his loving partner with a gift.

after finishing the documents, you didn’t expect your cute boyfriend to be sitting on the bed with the latest lingerie you bought for him. pink nipples being seen through the bra and his already hard cock poking a bit out of the panties with the stocking hugging his thighs just enough to cause a little pudge, he looked absolutely delicious. throwing himself on you and guiding your bigger hands to roam around his body, scaramouche started grinding himself on your legs.

“aww love what’s this gift for?” kissing the old hickeys and marks on his neck, you gently squeezed his ass. even that little action seemed enough for scaramouche to moan in your ears.

“just-just wanted to make you happy” came in the breathy response of your short lover. he oddly seemed quite desperate today. wearing a cute set, throwing himself on you, selfishly grinding his ass over your thighs. but it’s not like you were against it. if your sweet boyfriend was feeling nice might as well enjoy it.

dragging you to the bed by the collar of your shirt and pushing you down on the bed, he seemed more like himself now. straddling your crotch and grinding himself, scara started mumbling and whining about some stuff about how you’re his and he belongs only to you. how you should only look at him, need no one else but him and something along the lines of it.

and that’s what led to this point. with your sweet kuni fucking himself stupid on your cock.

“[n-nameee]~ please? h-help me! ca-anngh aaGKK! pleasshee~ help me! tired. shoo tired nngk~” whining about how tired he is and how he can’t ride your dick anymore he looked down at your face with a pitiful look and tears running down his cheeks. but you only smiled at him and squeezed his hips, gently making him grind down on you. he sometimes hated how easily in control you are.

“shhh, it’s alright baby boy. you can do it. i know you can. do it like how you always do okay? up and down baby boy. up and down” toying with his cherry red tip with one hand while guiding his hips to meet yours, scaramouche found himself growing more and more desperate. soon enough he came with a loud yell of your name and fell on top of you like a deflated balloon.

“aww you did such a good job darling. surely you don’t mind if we go a few more rounds right?” flipping yourselves over and kissing his cheeks you asked him for his permission. he can get overstimulated a bit too easily at times. nodding and smiling dumbly up at you with hearts in his eyes with a dazed look, this was gonna be a long night.

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sciencebecameouraddiction · 7 months

Text

title: dancing in the rain

author: sciencebecameouraddiction

fandom: hazbin hotel

rating: PG

genre: slight, baby angst/ major fluff

pairing: Alastor x Reader

summary: all hell had was acid rain, and all you wanted was the rainstorms you knew on earth.

Rain hardly ever was an occurrence in Hell. And when it was, it was acid rain. You sighed, looking out the window and watched the green acid pouring down on everything, missing desperately the rain storms that you had on earth. Being the youngest at the hotel, you remembered more clearly the burn of the sun on your skin, the cool breeze on a fall day and even the mix of the humidity in the air that felt like it would choke you but the reprieve as a rainstorm came and fell from the heavens.

“What has you so melancholy, my dear?” A voice asked behind you, shockingly quiet all things considered, toning down the announcer quality in his voice.

“Hey Alastor, just thinking is all.” You replied and smiled at him, not wanting to explain that the acid rain made you sad.

“Now, whatever it is that you’re thinking about is casting a dark shadow over your usually lovely face. So, tell me, what’s wrong? What kind of hotelier might I be if I didn’t ensure that all the patrons here were happy?” He said, the announcer tone coming back into his voice, which made you wince. Knowing that meant he knew you were lying so he was going to put on a show if you were. You sigh.

“It’s the rain.” You explain.

“The what now?” He asks, all effects gone from his voice except shock and a bit of confusion.

“The rain. I miss the rain. Not this rain. The rain on earth. The smell of the earth after a good rain storm, the way that especially in the summer when it was so hot, the rain was a cool reprieve. It always felt like…” You trailed off.

“Forgiveness?” Alastor finished, looking outside the hotel now too. You blink and look up at him.

“Yes. Are you sure you don’t read minds?” You chuckle, resting your head on your hand. You suddenly feel his microphone tap your head. You look up at him as holds his arm out to you.

“Come with me.” He says, not giving you time to feel confused. As when you take his arm you shadow travel with him to the other side of the hotel appearing at the door of his room.

“This is your room.” You say, confused now.

“Ever observant. A skill many would kill for I’m sure.” He smiles at you, but the sarcasm is evident as he holds open the door for you and you step into his room.

“Just a certified Sherlock Holmes.” You roll your eyes, taking his sarcasm.

“I never had the chance to read those books.” He mused for a moment, as he shut his door and walked around you heading to the forest area. You stayed near the door.

“I have the collection if you’d like to borrow it and read them.” You explain. “They are annotated though, so you’ll have to put up with my notes.” You explain.

“That would be lovely, dear.” Alastor says stepping on the grass and you watch as he takes off his coat and hangs it on a coat rack that appeared suddenly. He turns to you. “Aren’t you coming?”

“I-I guess?” You say, more like a question. You jog over to him and start walking next to him. “Are you killing me in your forest because I complained about acid rain?”

“Oh, no. Not you at least.” Alastor chuckles. “I want to show you something.” You look up at him skeptically.

“Hey Alastor, can you take smaller steps?” You ask having to jog to keep up with him. He looks down and hums seeing how you were almost running next to him.

“Good to know that if I had to catch you I could do so without breaking a sweat.” He says, as he walks slower and taking smaller steps, allowing you to actually walk, instead of run.

“Har har.” You say deadpanned and roll your eyes. You walk into a clearing that has a cabin in the middle. The whole forest felt like it was shrouded in the twilight of fall when lightening bugs gently floated around and the sky was a perpetual shade of blue, purple and pink. You finally looked up and around, seeing the trees, the bugs, the animals, the sky. Tears formed in your eyes. “Alastor, this is beautiful. It looks just like-“ You stop, your throat constricting as emotion overtakes you. You feel Alastor’s clawed hand rest on your shoulder.

“Just like earth?” He finishes, speaking softer than you had ever heard. You nod and look at him, watching him take everything in and then looking down at you.

“Come, let me show you something else.” He says, walking away and heading to the cabin. You walk in and suddenly feel at home. The decor is a little dated and you feel transported to the 1920’s, but it’s all homey. There’s a kitchen, a living room, a lounge and a hall way leading to what you assumed to be a bed room. You walk through the living room, taking it in but trying not to pry at the photos Alastor had in frames along the mantel of the fire place, you see at the back door there is almost like a deck, with a more modern porch swing.

“The porch swing is a nice addition.” You mention, smiling a bit at the modern accessory in what felt like a time capsule.

Alastor chuckles as he sets his microphone down and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. He joins you next to the window. “You haven’t seen the best part.” He murmurs, unusually quiet and reserved. You don’t mention the change in demeanor though, wanting to savor the quiet and this almost more authentic view of the Radio Demon.

“What’s the best-“ You stop when you hear it. The start of a pitter patter of rain on the roof, that builds and when you look outside, it’s raining. “Is that?” You blink a few times.

“It is. Safe for you to touch as well. You won’t get hurt.” He smiles a genuine looking smile as he goes over to the record player and starts playing music. Your hand touches the door, feeling the coolness of the water slide down the glass pane. You can’t stop yourself as Alastor fiddles with the record player, you open the door, quickly closing it so no rain would get in the cabin and rush outside off the deck. Twirling in the grass as the rain poured down soaking you.

“What are you doing?” Alastor yelled from the door, watching you like you had gone mad.

“Dancing in the rain!” You yelled back, a smile feeling permanent on your face.

“You’ll catch a cold, get back inside!” He says, looking up at the sky and then back at you.

“No! Come join me! It’s amazing! This is exactly what I remember.” You say holding you hand out to Alastor. His smile looks more like a grimace as he takes you in looking like a wet dog. He looks back inside and waves his hand at something and you see towels appear and the record player is louder so you can hear it outside. He takes off his shoes and socks and places them neatly at the door but far enough away that when you come in, water or mud won’t get on them.

He walks out getting drenched almost immediately as you run up to him and grab his hand and pull him on the grass. You take both his hands and start trying to spin around in a circle with him, as you see his eyebrow raise. You stop and look at him, a little disappointed when he doesn’t spin with you and you start to let go of his hand, until his hand tightens and pulls you to him.

“We can dance in the rain, but we will be actually be dancing.” He says as he proceeds to guide you through a dance that was popular when Alastor was alive, morphing into an odd mash up of a swing dance and you dancing like you were at a rave. You both settled down and were now just slow dancing as the song had turned a bit slower. You watched as Alastor’s eyes were closed as his face angled up to the sky. You made a spit second decision, and rested your head on his chest, really it was like the start of his abdomen but it was as tall as you could reach. You didn’t see his head snap down to you and watch as you seemingly relaxed in his arms, drunk off the warmth he gave and the cool from the rain still coming down. His hand moved up, and grabbed your chin, encouraging you to look at him. As you did, you saw his eyes widen and his cheeks turn bright red.

“What’s wrong?” You ask quietly.

“I’ve never… done anything like this before.” He says quietly, and it breaks the fogginess you felt before.

“You don’t have to be scared. It’s just me.” You say, as if it’s the most simple thing in the world.

“Just you? Darling, just you is enough to have me go to war.” Alastor murmurs and then his eyes widen again, shocked. You realize that he is just blurting things out and there is no filter. You smile.

“Well, I’m honored that the Radio Demon would want to be in my corner.” You say as your hand reaches up to touch his cheek, stopping just a few centimeters away, allowing him to close the gap if he wanted to. He leans into your touch shaking his head.

“Not the Radio Demon, dear. Just Alastor.” He says, looking at you with a vulnerability you had never seen before. Your eyes widen and you smile.

“Even better.”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor altruist #alastor/reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfic #alastor fanfiction

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f4iry-dvst · 3 months

Text

PRETTY SWEET

a/n: guess i’m back haha!

pairing: pussy drunk!Chris Sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: No one loves the taste of pussy quite like Chris; he never fails to show you that.

cw: smut, oral (fem!receiving), squirting, mommy kink, sub!chris

“Let me, please mommy, wanna taste you so bad”

The whine that trails off of his sentence makes you giggle in that degrading way you know makes his head mushy, while your hand gently tucks a rogue curl on his forehead back behind his ear. Chris is between your legs, stomach pressed to the mattress as his restless hips grind into the mattress while he thinks you aren’t paying attention and he’s looking up at you with those godforsaken pleading eyes of his that you cannot deny. Of course, you can’t say no to him, he’s your precious, precious boy. That doesn’t mean you’re opposed to teasing him though — sometimes he has to work for it.

You chuckle again at the rustling of the bedsheets from his desperate movement before giving in.

“Of course you can sweetheart”

Chris near enough shouts with joy. That’s one thing you’ll never understand: how he gets such a kick out of getting you off and is legitimately upset if he can’t. You do get it, obviously. Toying with him until dawn breaks is like, better than crack rock; you’ve never gotten so sad when he doesn’t want to be played with though. It’s endearing at the very least: you can’t say you minded how much attention he pays to your pleasure, even disregarding his own for it routinely.

Not even a second later you feel the delicate touch of Chris’s tongue winding its way from your navel to your middle, and that’s when you stop his fun with a tug of his hair.

“But, Mommy wants some marks first, okay? Can you do that baby? Can you claim me from everyone else?

He’s quick to nod, willing to go to the world's end if it meant he got to taste you. It’s not often he finds himself the giver of a hickey; always rushing into making you cum, it’s very rare he stalls long enough for something like that. Chris knows you love them: love being adorned with the bruises and the bite marks, feeling the burn when he gets a bit excited and nips a little too hard or accidentally brushing over one in the morning and being reminded all over again just how much he loves you. He knows. His head just gets a little bit cloudy sometimes, that’s all. You’ll never blame him for that, it’s all your fault anyway.

You weren't sure where he was going to start his assault with his mouth, as he typically chooses your chest. If there’s anything that comes close to his love of pussy, it's boobs. But he’s still between your legs, hands bound tightly around your hips and he doesn’t seem to be moving: excitement was beginning to bubble low in your stomach. Chris’s lips latch onto the pudge of your thigh a beat later, sucking the skin into his mouth like it’s his last meal and letting his tongue swirl to soothe any sting he might inflict. The edges of your mind begin to blur as he hums and whines away as if he’s the one being sucked on; you can practically feel yourself gush at that. He repeats this process a few more times, scattering pink and purple blotches across your inner thighs like they’re his canvas until he pulls away again to look you in the eyes. They’re wet with arousal and need, glistening and oh-so-blue in the gentle light of your bedside lamp. He just looks so beautiful like this.

“That’s my good boy…I think you deserve your treat now don’t you”

He whines pleadingly, rapidly nodding again.

“Go ahead, make mommy feel good”

Well, no need to tell him twice. He’s shockingly slow to it at first: the tip of his tongue dragging through your folds from your hole to your clit, circling the pulsing bud before pulling away to dribble a little saliva on it. His thumb reaches round to flick it – once, twice and then a third, each one making your hips jolt upwards towards his face. You may be in control of him, but that doesn’t mean his touch doesn’t reduce you to a mess of your own. He giggles all sweet like a child with candy, like he doesn’t even know how much all this is affecting you. Of course he does, he just loves playing up on it.

Then, his tongue flicks back out and starts playing with your clit almost teasingly. Chris knows your body like the back of his hand; he knows just how to work you up, what makes you cum and what sends you flying off the side of the earth. This is his area of expertise – as he likes to say – he’s well practised and he can get you there so quickly you won’t even know what hit you. It’s always been so interesting to you how someone so sweet, so innocent and needy could be such a beast between your legs. Don’t get him wrong he still needs your instructions and demands, you’re comforting words and praise, but this is where he thrives.

You don’t even notice when he pulls your clit into his mouth with a suction you could never replicate until he starts letting it go, slow, agonisingly slow and the fire that alights in your veins is feisty. It’s all over every inch of you yet simultaneously all in his mouth and it’s wild how incoherent you’ve become in a few short minutes. He sucks it all back in his mouth again and starts flicking his tongue over the tip, and it’s clear then just how close you truly are already. Your hands are gripped tightly onto the bed sheets, pulling so hard to ground yourself the cover has pinged off of one mattress corner but you don’t have it in you to care.

“Mommy, mommy I need you to cum, please… cum on my face please”

You’re not quite sure why that does it for you. Maybe it was the pleading and whining, or the way he sucks your clit back into his mouth so roughly when he was done begging. Whatever it was, it had you bursting at the seams immediately. You feel his left hand pushing down on your stomach as your pussy begins to convulse and throb, and a feeling hits you that you haven’t felt in a long time. With not even a second to acknowledge what he’s forced out of you, your pussy gushes into his mouth. It throbs harder as you squirt, every muscle in your body pulling tought and your head thrown back deep into the pillows. Chris swallows it all dutifully, moaning loudly into your middle at the taste of your cum on his tongue.

You’re not quite all back to yourself yet when he yelps and cries out your name, but you know exactly what just happened to him. His hips are still pistoning into the mattress when you finally look down, rubbing his sensitive cock through his orgasm like a pathetic dog. You can’t help but coo at him even through your laboured breaths.

“Thank you, baby, you made Mommy feel so good”

Chris whines at that, nuzzling his head into your stomach and grinning against your skin. What a perfect boy.

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #oneshot #chris sturniolo oneshot #smut #sub chris sturniolo

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matchavellichor · 1 year

Note

If you’re still taking requests then I have one 😊

Could you please write a scenario where Sebastian goes home for the Christmas holiday to make amends with Anne and Solomon (before shit happens) and he leaves Ominis and Female MC alone. They finally get to spend time alone together for once and find they have a lot more in common than rheu previously thought (they go on walks, study in the library, hang out in the undercroft) and Ominis who already had a secret little crush on her but always thought that Sebastian kinda had a claim on her, starts falling very hard and he finally decides to do something about it. Maybe they’re hanging out in the undercroft one night and he spontaneously kisses her. I would adore if you could take this into NSFW territory, I’d love the awkward yet sensual first-time sex between them if you could (and as much as I love him, please no Dominis, I want the sweet boy we meet in the game) ♥️

A.N: Thank you for this request! I absolutely adored writing this, so precious 🥹 I hope you enjoy! Also thank you to everyone else who sent a request, I'm trying to get through all of them now that I'm on break and have more time 🫶

You Drew Stars

f!MC x Ominis Gaunt - NSFW/Fluff - 5.6k words

Summary: After Sebastian leaves the castle to spend winter break in Feldcroft, Ominis' sentiments for his friend slowly begin to stretch past the bounds of what's platonically appropriate...

Tags: "Un"requited Love, Pining, Miscommunication, Loss of Virginity, First-Times, Friends to Lovers, Supportive Friend Sebastian Sallow

The library was empty as Ominis meandered his way through towards the back shelves, most of the other students having gone home for winter break. To his satisfaction, the few who had stayed didn’t share any habits of curling up with a book an hour before curfew.

He made his way to the old, royal purple chaise that he usually sat in towards the back corner of the establishment, tucked just behind a shelf on holistic gardening that no one ever frequented. He stilled when he noticed someone already there, the quiet sound of pages turning alerting him of their presence.

“Hey, Ominis,” She glanced up when she heard him approach and eyed the book in his hand curiously. “Some light reading before bed?”

“Oh, it’s you,” He scratched the back of his neck. “I was, but I think I’ll just head back to—”

“Don’t be silly,” She tucked herself towards one side of the lounge and patted the seat directly beside her. “Come on, there’s plenty of room.”

“It’s fine, really, you were here first—”

She sighed. “Will you just sit down?”

He shifted nervously in his place for a moment before finally coming to some decision and making his way towards her to take a seat. The chaise sat two people comfortably, albeit a bit cramped, their arms brushing every time either of them turned a page.

She didn’t seem to mind. Unfortunately, he didn’t possess the same level of indifference, a faint flush of pink creeping up his neck from beneath his white Oxford when she crossed her legs and her thighs brushed against his.

After finishing up her chapter, she reached over to tilt the front cover of his book towards her, her curiosity getting the best of her. She was awfully forward, if not borderline rude. He tried to disguise the fact he liked it.

“Brontë?” Her eyebrows shot to her hairline. “Developed a rebellious streak, have you, Ominis?”

“Something like that,” He mused. “Though, I suppose there are better ways to defy my parents.”

“Oh, certainly. If you spent more time with me you’d have a plethora of creative ideas by now,” She grinned. “Not that sneaking around reading Muggle literature isn’t an admirable offense, of course.”

He breathed out a laugh. “You make an enticing offer, I have to admit.”

“What can I say, I’m enticing.”

Overwhelmingly, he thought.

He accompanied her to her dorm room afterwards and tried to wipe the stupid, dreadful smile on his face the entire walk back to his own.

They fell into a simple sort of routine.

Even though they had already fit into some category of the word friends, it had never been in the same way that she was with Sebastian. The more he got to know her, the more he wondered why he hadn’t done so sooner. She was absolutely brilliant.

He quickly learned she was just as much of a night owl as he was, often walking into the common room to find her already curled up on one of the wingback chairs in front of the fireplace, waiting for him.

She’d lay out a rotating selection of Muggle literature and make him pick one for her to read to him, even if he insisted he could just cast a simple dictation spell or transfigure a copy in braille.

He quickly found his particular favorite was Jane Austen, to which she teased him relentlessly for being a bleeding heart romantic. Gods, she had no idea.

She introduced him to Mary Shelley, which he enjoyed just as much, although he posited he’d grow to appreciate just about anything as long as it was her reading it to him.

It was over steaming cups of earl gray in the common room and midday walks through the snow-crested forest that his inkling of a crush morphed into something else. Something more.

Feelings, he recognized rather ruefully, one late evening after she’d fallen asleep with her head pillowed on his lap in the common room.

Twisty, hot, almost nausea-inducing feelings. Overwhelming and nerve-wracking, but at the same time so unbelievably good, and warm, and sweet, because how could he feel anything else with her except pleasantries?

They were the kind where he found he wanted to do nothing more but stay in the private, simple routine they’d created for themselves, just the two of them. Wanted to keep living in the daydream he’d invented about their relationship, where sometimes she’d hug him goodnight a little too tightly, or sit a little too close, and it’d almost feel like she cared for him the same way he cared for her. Almost.

He ignored the guilty, nagging sensation in his gut about her relationship with Sebastian, and decided he’d let his delusions take him through the remainder of their holiday together.

Stretched out on the plush rug in front of the common room fireplace, he wrapped a hand around her ankle when she went to nudge him with a stockinged foot for the thirtieth time in the last five minutes.

“Quit it,” He didn’t glance up from where his fingers were combing over the braille in his open textbook. “You’re distracting me.”

“You’re not even studying anymore,” She wriggled her foot out of his hold and poked his thigh again in defiance. “You’re a terrible fake-reader, you know. You don’t even make your eyes move across the lines.”

“Hilarious,” He rolled his eyes, finally closing the book on his lap. “And maybe I’ve stopped studying because someone has been prodding me incessantly for the past half-hour.”

“My mental capacity has reached its limit for the night. And I’m starved,” She picked herself up from the floor, rolling her shoulders back in a stretch, before holding a hand out for him to take. “Come on, up. Let’s get something to eat.”

He waved his wand over his wristwatch. “It’s nearly one in the morning, where on earth are we going to get something to eat?”

Her lips curled into a smirk as she helped him to his feet. “I have my ways.”

He sighed a defeated breath as he let her tug him along. “Yes, I’m aware. I’m afraid that’s precisely my concern.”

“Gods, we’re going to be given twin concussions by a kitchen elf any second now. I hear Tilly’s got a particularly strong arm.” The glowing tip of Ominis’ wand cast the dark surroundings of the Hogwarts kitchens in a red hue. “Keep an eye out for any hurtling rolling pins, will you?”

“Will you stop worrying? It’s fine.” She huffed, sticking her head into one of the pantries of the kitchens before popping out a few moments later. “Apple or blueberry?”

“Both?”

She grinned, slipping back inside. “This is why we’re friends.”

“We’re friends? This is news to me.”

She narrowed her eyes at where he was poised at the doorway. “Keep talking like that and we’ll be enemies soon enough.”

“My biggest nightmare,” He teased. “I certainly would not want to get on your bad side.”

He followed her as she slipped past him out of the pantry with two magically-steaming pies in hand, making her way towards the exit of the kitchens.

“You’re certainly a lot smarter than Sebastian, then,” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “You know what’s good for you.”

You’re good for me, he thought.

“Call it self-preservation.”

“How about dinner with a view?” She stopped at the bottom stairwell of the Astronomy tower, only pale moonlight and the dim, orange glow of the scattered wall sconces to illuminate the barren hallways they’d been treading through.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t really make a difference to me, all of my dinners are without a view.”

“Oh, look who’s all clever all of a sudden.” She rolled her eyes.

He grinned. “I’ve always been clever. Do keep up.”

She balanced the pie in her hands in one arm and took his hand with the other, beginning the long, meandering ascent to the upper tower platform.

Her fingers laced so nicely with his, as if they’d been carved to mold perfectly with his own. Smaller than his, but warm, and familiar. He reveled in the privilege of getting to touch her so freely, conscious of the fact this comfortableness would most likely end as soon as Sebastian was back from Feldcroft.

They sat cross-legged with their arms draped over the metal railing, tucking into their pies and trading spoonfuls of rich, syrupy goodness. It wasn’t as cold as a normal December night, but he cast periodic warming charms over them anyways and transfigured his jumper into a blanket that turned out only marginally big enough for the both of them.

They ate in comfortable, companionable silence and all that he could think about is how he wished he could do this always. In the summer, in the spring, in the fall. That this wasn’t something temporary, something that would be robbed from him in a few short weeks.

“Didn’t realize you were such a messy eater, Ominis.” She glanced up at him, an amused smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “Where’s all that pureblood dining etiquette gone to?”

He rolled his eyes and went to feel around for a napkin, but she leaned forward instead. He sucked in a sharp breath as she braced a hand on his thigh and swiped her thumb over the side of his mouth, collecting remnants of blueberry jam, brushing over his bottom lip in a moment that seemed to stretch for an eternity, though in reality was brief and fleeting.

She sat back down in her seat, unphased, and popped the digit in her mouth, bottom teeth scraping over the pad of her thumb, sugar melting on her tongue.

His mouth felt terribly dry.

He swallowed down the sensation of longing with a spoonful of apple filling and flaky, golden crust.

Bellies full with ungodly amounts of pie, they laid beside each other on the too-small blanket, and Ominis tried to ignore the too-loud sound of his blood rushing in his ears, paired with the too-fast beating of his heart in his chest, and attempted to simply relax.

He closed his eyes and focused on something other than the consuming feeling of want prickling over his skin, setting his nerve-endings alight with the desire to touch and hold and caress. She wasn’t his to do any of those things with.

He focused on her soft, steady breathing. The rise and fall of her chest beside his.

“Merlin, it’s beautiful.” She murmured, a dazed quality to her voice.

“I’m sure it is.” He replied just as listless, though undoubtedly for other reasons.

She turned her head to face him. “Want me to describe it to you?”

He turned to face her as well and he was suddenly acutely aware of the feeling of her breath ghosting his cheek. She was so close. His voice was quiet. “Would you?”

She nodded. “Alright, close your eyes.”

He bit back a smile. “You’re such an idiot.”

She grinned. “Shut up and do it.”

He obliged with a disgruntled huff. Pleased, she turned back towards the scenery.

“It’s a full moon tonight, so everything has this almost…silver glow. Like the whole world’s been dipped in platinum.” She began.

He tried to picture it in his head, sheens of pale white cast over rolling hills and thick forest.

“You can see the entire lake from up here, never-ending and inky black, and juuust there, past the border of the forest—” She outstretched a hand. “—is Hogsmeade, with its little orange lights.”

She glanced sideways at him to see his eyes still closed, the softest smile brushing his lips.

She continued, “What’s really pretty though, is the stars. Too many to ever count. Enough to make your head dizzy, really.” She let out a laugh and he decided it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

“Some are brighter than others, and you can make out little pictures in the night sky. Tonight, there’s Orion looking down on us,” She tilted her head, brows knitting together as she took a moment to study him. “Actually…”

He let out a startled breath when he felt her fingertips make contact with his cheek, dragging over his skin in feather-light touches, tracing the small smattering of beauty marks there.

“You bear a remarking similarity,” She ran her index softly between the points, connecting little invisible lines. “Right here.”

He swallowed hard. “Do I?”

“Mhm,” She hummed. “It’s awfully pretty.”

She hadn’t pulled her hand back. His skin buzzed with the sensation, because her fingertips were still there, on his cheek, touching him with a softness that he had never known before in his life, with a kindness that he was so unaccustomed to.

Gentle, repetitive drags, skin-on-skin, that same prickling sensation of want having grown into something almost painful inside of him. Bubbling and overwhelming, just underneath his flesh, his fingers twitching with the desire to reach out and feel.

He was conscious of how stupid it was, mind-numbingly so, but he couldn’t bear the aching tension in his chest any longer, and he knew of only one way to acquiesce his restless heart.

He cupped her own cheek in his hand, dipped his chin forward, and captured her lips in his.

Her fingers froze against his cheek, and he could feel the slight surprise in her body language, before it quickly morphed into something else, something accepting, something satisfied. As if she’d been longing just as desperately, had been waiting for this the same way he’d been.

Her hand dragged down to thread through the fine, blonde hairs at the nape of his neck, tugging him closer to her, eliciting a sharp intake of air through his nose, settling all kinds of feelings deep behind his navel.

She parted her lips for him and he chased the syrupy taste of sugar on her tongue like he needed it to live, swallowed her quiet, breathy pants like mouthfuls of honey, sticky and saccharine and so overwhelmingly her he could drown in it.

She was so sweet, so soft, and far, far too perfect for his fantasies to have ever possibly done her justice.

When she finally broke away, he could feel her drowsy, sapless smile against his lips. He smiled back, just as giddy, an absolute fool, surely, but in the moment he couldn’t care less. He resisted the urge to dive back in. To run his tongue over her teeth and plead for more, because he knew he would most likely never get enough.

He was content then, just holding her. She tucked herself into his side, pillowed her head on his chest, and let him run his hands up and down her back. Let him bury his nose in the crown of her hair and revel in the feeling of having her there, feeling too much like his.

After that, their routine shifted into something else. Something unspoken, that didn’t really need any labels or clarifications, because it all fell into place like pieces of a puzzle. Normal and simple and easy and natural.

Because, of course he got to kiss her goodnight when he left her at her dorm room every evening. And it was only obvious that they’d lace their fingers together on their Sunday trips to Hogsmeade for a butterbeer, and sit on the same side of the booth instead of opposite each other like before. And why would she not drape her legs over his lap on that purple chaise in the library, or tuck herself into his side on that dusty, old loveseat in the Undercroft?

He wasn’t sure what he’d done to ever get so lucky, but he thanked Fortune herself every night he got to collect her in his arms and press lingering kisses to her forehead. It was an intoxicating feeling to have everything he wanted right there in his hands, soft and pliable and willing, so perfectly receptive to his touch, so eager to reciprocate with the same amount of fevered passion and affection.

Of course, there were levels of uncertainties to their relationship still. Questions he couldn’t bring himself to ask, out of fear of ruining everything. What are we and and for the love of Circe, tell me this means something to you, too poised on the tip of his tongue everytime she wrapped herself around him and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

There were boundaries, admittedly maybe only fictitious ones his own anxious brain fabricated, but ones nonetheless. He’d always ask her first before he kissed her, and she’d always respond with eager nods, blissful smiles, and her fingers curling into the front of his shirt to tug his mouth down to hers.

He adored kissing her. Maybe a bit too much. Alright, maybe alarmingly too much.

He’d spend eternity with his mouth on hers if he could, and it still wouldn’t be enough. He constantly craved the numb, bruised feeling of his lips after a particularly long makeout session. He couldn’t get enough of touching her, of being so intimate with her, of the soft and sweet and spit-sticky brushes of her tongue against his, of that aching, heated swirl he got just behind his navel.

She was bliss personified.

Crossing a leg over the other on that worn, tawny loveseat in the Undercroft, he skimmed through the pages of the paperback in his hand with his wand. A few feet away from him, she was reducing a couple training dummies into splinters of charred wood, spell after spell rolling off her tongue with ease.

His headstrong little witch. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips at how powerful she was, admiration swelling in his chest.

After getting her fix of dueling for the day and craving attention, she made her way over to him, sitting beside him, although more accurately, practically sitting on top of him. Not that he minded.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she looked up at him expectantly, and because he’d give her absolutely anything her little heart desired, he tucked his book away immediately and turned his focus towards her, pecking a kiss to her cheek. She smiled in satisfaction.

He had the tiniest inkling of a feeling that maybe he was spoiling her rotten. Not that he minded that, either.

“Tired?”

She shook her head. “Just missed you.”

He brushed the back of his knuckles against her cheek and couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his mouth. “Did you now?”

She nodded, staring down at his lips as she leaned in to press her mouth against his. Simple and natural and easy. It was a wonder how normal it seemed, as if it was something they’d always done.

Her tongue brushed against his bottom lip, pleading for entrance, and of course he obliged, because who was he to deny her anything?

He could feel the little exhale of breath against his cheek as his tongue met hers, feel the way she instinctively pressed more against him as if she wanted to mold herself to his very bones.

He loved having her like this.

Eager and passion-filled, her magic thrumming in her veins with a little added intensity, reflected in the way she kissed him, in the way she touched him.

She broke away for air, but he couldn’t help the desire to have more. He trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses over her jaw, down the length of her neck. He’d never kissed her there and he found himself particularly interested in exploring. She positively melted under his ministrations.

“Ominis,” She sighed his name on a breathy pant and the sound coursed straight to his groin, tugging at that aching desire in his gut, that heated, twisty, starved feeling that was always there when he touched her, lingering someone hidden, nursing it into something insatiable.

She reconnected her mouth to his and stoked that flickering flame inside him until it was red-hot and all-consuming.

He tangled his fingers through her hair and explored her mouth with a deliberate slowness. Languid, syrupy drags of his tongue against hers. Hot, needy breaths shared in a space between them that was far too little and far too much at the same time.

A gasp died on his tongue when she shifted in her seat to press herself even more against him, effectively straddling his lap, impatience dripping down her spine. He went rigid.

“Hold on, don’t—” His fingers dug into her waist to still her, but she had already dragged her hips flush against his, right against that aching stiffness in his trousers. His face blanched, mortified. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

She held her bottom lip between her teeth, processing the feeling of him, a very specific part of him, pressed right to the gusset of her knickers, right under her skirt. It was like someone had stricken a match, lit her nerves on fire.

She shook her head, her cheeks hot. “Don’t apologize,” She smoothed her thumb over his cheek, reassuring. “I want you, too. I want this.” She shifted minutely, tentative, right against that throbbing part of him.

His brows knit together, looking almost pained. “Gods, you can’t say things like that.”

“It’s true,” She whispered, shifting against him again, deliciously slow. The slightest roll of her hips. It was enough to ruin him completely. “Please, Ominis.”

He nodded then, forehead pressed against hers, fists white-knuckled in the starched linen of her shirt. He let his hands fall to his sides, onto the tattered pillows of the loveseat and sighed.

“Not here.” He planted a kiss on the corner of her mouth. “You deserve something nicer.”

Ominis’ dorm was certainly nicer.

Clean and tidy to the point of almost being manic, just as she imagined it would be. She glanced over at the surrounding beds and noticed his side strikingly bare in comparison, devoid of the clutter of Quidditch posters, junk and other memorabilia that you would normally expect to find in a teenage boy’s room.

His sheets were crisp and neatly-pressed, and laid back against his pillows, she could pick up the faint smell of vanilla and bergamot and, most strikingly, him.

He hovered over her there, his hands on either side of her head on the pillowcase, a pink flush dusting his cheekbones, uncertain. She found it awfully endearing.

“Have you ever…?”

He shook his head, sheepish. “No.”

She nodded.

A gnawing feeling clawed itself inside his chest, something marred and ugly and possessive, a jealousy he knew he probably had no right to feel. “Have…you?”

She shook her head. “Never.”

His brows furrowed, confusion and surprise and a faint sense of relief etched into his features. “Really? You and Sebastian never…?”

She sputtered. “Me and Sebastian?”

“Er…yes? I assumed you two had already been—”

“Dear gods, no,” She laughed, as if the mere notion were hysterical. She looked at him bewildered. “Where on earth did you ever get that impression?”

“I don’t know, you’re both always spending so much time together.”

“As friends.” She choked. “If I’m being completely honest, I’ve always harbored a bit of a crush on you.”

It was his turn to sputter. “On me?”

She smiled. “Yes, it’s a bit embarrassing, actually. I’m surprised Sebastian’s never told you. He’s tormented me about it since the moment he found out.”

Ominis winced and let his head fall forward, voice muffled in the collar of her shirt. “Gods, I’ve been such an idiot.”

“Well, that’s only natural,” She teased, raking her nails softly through the hair on his nape. “Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you.”

He picked his head up. “So, I…we could’ve been doing this, so much sooner?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Been wanting to get into my pants for very long, have you, Ominis?”

He groaned. “That’s not what I meant,” She watched as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth, embarrassment tinging his cheeks. “I’ve liked you for quite a while.”

“Have you?” She grinned. ��I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” He murmured. “A bit of pining was good for me. Humbling.”

She tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “Yes, I’m sure you’re not very used to not getting what you want, hm?”

“Mmh,” He hummed, non-committal, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Terribly spoiled, I’m afraid.”

“I won’t hold that against you, either.”

She laced her fingers behind his neck, tugging him forward to bring his lips down to hers again. Ominis could barely contain the euphoric feeling of relief in his chest, of completion, of blissful satisfaction in knowing the witch underneath him was his and only his.

He let his hands wander, explore, caress, tugging her blouse out of the waistband of her skirt and running his hands over the creamy smooth expanse of her stomach. He let his lips roam with just as much fervor, trailing down the length of her neck, scraping biting kisses over her collarbone, over the soft curves of her jaw.

“Take this off me,” She pleaded in between kisses, breathless, and he would be a fool if he didn’t immediately oblige. Slender, deft fingers turned clumsy and unpracticed in the heat of the moment, fumbling over buttons and the zipper of her skirt with a lot more lack of finesse than he was used to doing most things in life. His heart was pounding too loud in his ears for him to care.

If she was anything she was impatient, and he quickly learned this impatience would be the very bane of his existence, as she proceeded to grind her hips up to meet his every time he tried to pause and regain some level of composure.

She seemed to take a form of sick gratification in the way he’d curse under his breath at the feeling of the soaked fabric of her knickers, rubbing back and forth against that stiff, aching part of him, nearly bringing him to completion.

He crawled down her body before she could torture him any longer, hooking his fingers into the hem of her knickers and tugging it down to pool at her ankles. He left a trail of wet, open-mouth kisses in his descent, dragging his tongue down the line of her sternum, slow and deliberate.

She tensed. “You don’t have to—”

“Please,” He nosed at the soft curve of her stomach, his breath warm against her skin, eyes half-lidded behind blonde eyelashes. “I want to. Please let me.”

Her voice was quiet, anticipated. “Okay.”

It was all he needed to kiss her there, lips pressed to her dripping core, sucking just slightly, tentatively, just enough to make her gasp. His tongue was velvety smooth, purposefully slow, as if savoring it, savoring her.

“Tastes good,” He murmured against her cunt in a hum, lips sticky and glistening, voice hoarse and gravely with want. “Tastes s’good. Mmh.”

She couldn’t stifle her moans as he lapped at her firmer then, more focused, dragged the tip of his tongue and swirled it around that sensitive little bundle of nerves he had already deduced made her hips writhe and her hands tangle in his hair, pulling, pleading.

He didn’t know exactly what he was doing, but Ominis prided himself on being a very intuitive learner — and there was no better lesson than her nails raking over his scalp and her mewls muffled against the back of her hand every time he evidently did something right with his tongue. In this more than anything, he was determined to get all O’s.

“Oh, gods, Ominis,” She breathed out, and that was all it took for him to break, for him to push two fingers inside her cunt, wrap his lips around her clit, and suck. Hard, until her toes curled at either side of his hips on the bedding, and her head was thrown back onto the pillows, and she was repeating please, please, please like a prayer — as if she’d ever have to beg him for anything.

He pulled her over the edge with a groan against her cunt, fingers pressing into that little spot on her walls that made her vision white over with stars, melting her muscles into a puddle of ecstasy. Coaxed her through it, lapping at the wetness until she was reduced to shudders and breathy, shaky pants.

“You’re so beautiful,” He climbed over her, chest heaving, pressing kisses to her cheeks. He rambled praises, utterly sapless, euphoric, and if she didn’t know any better she’d think he was coming down from the high of his own orgasm with how giddy he sounded. “Oh my gods, you’re so unbelievably perfect. Sounded so good — tasted so good, fuck. You’re just—”

She kissed him then, not minding that she could taste herself on his tongue. Slow and sweet, her head dizzy with endorphins. He liked her like this.

Reaching down between them, she ran her hand down the placket of his briefs, palmed the evidence of his arousal, reveled in the way his lips faltered against hers. She dipped her fingers past the elastic of his waistband, and the whimper he let out when she finally wrapped her hand around him was nothing short of depraved.

“Want to be inside of you,” He pleaded, his hips rutting of their own accord against her palm, warm and slick with desire, a sticky bead of pre-cum pooling at the tip. He felt so thick in her hand. “Please, want— want it so bad.”

He couldn’t bear the restriction any longer, tugging his shorts down his thighs, exposing alabaster skin and flushed pink and so much of him she couldn’t pull her eyes away.

He notched himself at her entrance, lips hovering over hers, asking for permission without words, and all she could do was fervently nod to keep herself from begging.

He laced his fingers with hers as he slowly pushed in, gasps shared between their lips, foreheads pressed together. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him closer, urging him for more.

His voice was wrecked when he spoke. “Is this — am I hurting you? Is this alright?”

She shook her head. “You’re perfect —you feel so perfect.”

He groaned, surging forward to capture her lips in his, pouring every ounce of devotion and adoration into the way his tongue brushed against hers, as he slowly rocked his hips, in and out, cautious, shallow thrusts.

“Please, more,” She whispered, quiet, needy, and he couldn’t help but oblige. He bottomed out inside of her, his head falling to her shoulder, and eased his hips back to meet hers with a sharp thrust.

She was overwhelmed by the novel and absolutely foreign feeling of being so full. That dull sting where he was stretching her out around him, that pleasurable ache where he was pressing up into her walls — it was all revoltingly delicious. She never wanted it to stop.

“Christ, you’re — fuck,” Her fingers wrapped around his bicep for support, nails digging little crescent-shaped marks into his skin. “You’re so deep—oh my gods, please move, please, please move,”

He was half-convinced he’d cut out his own beating heart in that moment and present it to her if she asked. He braced himself with his fingers splayed warm and broad on her hip, holding maybe a bit too tightly, and fucked into her with steady, deep thrusts, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“Yes, yes, yes,” She gasped, his cock pressing deep into that sensitive spot inside of her. She could feel that winding knot behind her navel being pulled taut, being stretched tighter and tighter until she felt like she might break. “Like that, just like that — fuck, please don’t stop, please don’t stop,”

Ominis had by no means a dirty mouth, was never, ever crass by an definition of the word, but hearing her pleading in his ear, feeling her squeeze so tightly around him, slick and warm and utterly divine — he couldn’t stop the endless litany spilling from his mouth, delirious from how good she felt as he thrust into her thoroughly, his self-restraint slipping out of him like grains of sand through open fingers.

“You’re so perfect. My angel, oh my gods, all mine. Mine, mine, mine. Gorgeous, so gorgeous, you’re so tight, so tight around me. Fuck, I can’t stop, I can’t — I need —I need you, I love this, I love this so much, fuck, fuck, fuck, I love this, I love—”

His words died on a strangled moan as he finished inside of her, pumping into her until he pulled her over the edge along with him, electrifying her nerve-endings into bliss. He pressed his lips to hers like he needed her to breathe, like the only oxygen he desired was the ones she would give him from her very own lungs.

She spoke first, dazed. “That was—”

He let out a laugh, soft and pleasure-rough, the slightest bit drowsy. “Amazing. Brilliant. You’re absolutely brilliant.”

She returned his gleaming smile with her own, teasing.

“You’ve only just noticed?”

It took one look. The raucous bustle of other students still disembarking around him, yet his attention was trained on his two friends smiling and waiting up for him.

His eyes darted between the two, briefly combing over the faint bites of purple on her neck that was peeking out just slightly from beneath the green and silver of her scarf, then finally dipped to where their hands were surreptitiously clasped behind layers of cloaks, and he immediately knew.

Sebastian dropped his suitcase on the weathered boards of the dock with a thunk and ran up to clap his hands on his friends’ shoulders with a sly smile and a satisfied glint in his eyes.

“Fucking took you two long enough.”

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #sebastian sallow x reader #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy imagine

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adelheidvonschicksal · 9 months

Note

Hcs for Itadori x reader, who distances themselves from him and avoids him, because they have feelings for him and are scared, because they don't know how to behave around him and are scared of rejection please?

Itadori is the best person you know. He’s kind and empathetic, always willing to listen to others, and has this endearing positivity about most things. He may not be the brightest person but he’s quick to learn when given the chance. He’s also strong and handsome.

Likewise, people could list positives about you; but in this situation, when you think about what you have to offer in return, all the positives you’ve heard, you still can’t see what is so special about you that someone like him would accept your feelings. You feel inadequate.

You’re don't think you're pin-up model pretty like his posters, Itadori likes tall girls with big asses, he claims, and there’s nothing about his behavior that would insinuate that he likes your personality more than the rest of your friends.

You can’t take another day without telling him, feeling the need to scream out that you like the boy every time he gets too close, touches your arm too readily, calls out your name to back him up in whatever dumb arguments he would have with Kugisaki, or save you a seat right next to him.

You’re terrified that you might accidentally let it slip, and he’d reject you because there isn’t a good enough reason for him to like you as much as you like him. And if your words didn’t make him realize it then your actions would give it away eventually.

Fortunately, Itadori isn’t very perceptive when it comes to romantic feelings towards himself. What he can notice is when one of his friends seems troubled, and he can notice even more that he hasn’t been seeing you around as much lately.

He notices things like you don’t sit next to him anymore at meals, you don’t seem to want to hang out together as much (and when you do you always ask if the others coming too), or when he’s reading a good manga and wants to show you a panel you’re not there.

Itadori thinks he’s done something wrong to make you angry at him, and the guilt of not even knowing what he did wrong starts to preoccupy his mind. Maybe he took one too many snacks out your “secret” snack drawer (shit, did I forget to replace it?) or maybe you didn’t like the way he’d play with and squish your plushies when he’d hang out in your room (they never complained about it so how was I supposed to know!), or maybe you didn’t like his humor (But you laughed at his jokes a lot. But what if it was those awkward uncomfortable laughs and he didn’t notice!)

Itadori is pulling out his hair trying to figure it out. He considers you one of his best friends, and it’d be awkward to be classmates and work together if you hated him.

He gets all desperate about it, annoying Fushiguro and Kugisaki to help him figure out what he did so he can apologize already because every time he tries to ask you swear you’re not mad at him!

He wants to make up already and go back to arguing about stupid things instead, like whether purple or pink hair would suit you the best. He becomes hyper-aware of the pinch in his heart when he thinks about the two of you possibly matching and now you keep avoiding him.

Either Fushiguro or Kugisaki is going to try to force you to talk to him because the tension is getting annoying and a bit sad with how pouty Itadori gets and to tell him that you have a crush on him already. That you’re already pushing him away and losing him by hurting his feelings.

Before you can, Itadori is already onto his next move, buying anything to make up for what he thinks he did wrong: new snacks; new plushies; new novelty socks from when you loaned him a pair and they got ripped up during a mission; that hoodie of his you’re always complimenting? Yours, you can have it. He doesn’t even like hoodies anyway!

He’s going to show up at your dorm door, apologizing. He doesn’t know exactly what he did so he is going to simply apologize for everything. He really hates fighting with you because he really likes you, and it’s killing him not to have you like him, too.

You end up having to apologize to him and explain that you’re scared to be around him because you have feelings for him and didn’t want to be rejected, that you want to be friends with him even if he doesn’t have those feelings back for you, and you were afraid to lose him as a friend.

It takes him a minute to process everything you said. He’s trying to think of a world where he could ever reject you. You’re so pretty and talented and smart, and you did nothing but occupy his mind over the last couple of weeks and even before then he’d think about you a lot. You’re dazzling.

He explains all that to you so sincerely, with the smallest hint of shy embarrassment as he puts the words together, that it makes you feel stupid for even thinking he’d reject you and not realizing that he could hold the world with the amount of feelings he has for you.

Of course, you accept.

Itadori laughs and shuffles all the items he got for you: he guesses this means he prepared the s/o hoodie too early?

#yuji x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuuji itadori x reader #yuuji x reader #yuji fluff #head canon

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hoshikarasu · 9 months

Text

LOOKS BETTER ON YOU. — CHOSO X M!READER

❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀featuring : choso with a male reader .

❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀synopsis : trying the lipstick trend with choso ! — WC: 1.1k

❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀notes : male reader . you/your pronouns . reader wears lipstick . choso briefly thinks about the idea of being marked by reader . not proofread . this is entirely self-indulgent .

“I’ve never seen you wear lipstick before.”

Granted, Choso can’t say he has ever seen you wear any type of makeup before. You didn’t particularly dabble with it aside from the occasional eyeliner, but even then, you didn’t see it as necessary to include in your routine.

It was a surprise to see you return after a trip to the store with a few tubes of lipstick in different shades of red and purple; the same colors that he answered with when you asked him for his favorite color before you left.

The tubes of lipstick sat innocently at your desk for a while before he finally caved into his curiosity and asked if there was a reason you bought them. It seemed as if you were waiting for that question, a light flickering in your eyes, as you explained to him how you saw this trend on Tiktok. (He would later go track down Yuji to ask him what a Tiktok was and listen attentively to his younger brother’s explanation.)

You then mentioned that you wanted to try this trend out with him.

Now here you both are, finally having free time to spare from your busy schedules, and you wanted to film that Tiktok today. And Choso could never say no to you. Especially when you looked up at him with a hopeful, excited look.

At his observation, you glanced up from the mirror you set up before you. The corners of your mouth curved into a smile. “There’s a first time for everything. Besides, don’t you think it’s coming out great?”

His eyes dropped back down to your mouth to examine them. There was something mesmerizing about the way you applied the lipstick. Despite your lack of experience with makeup, you could’ve fooled him with your precise movements.

You chose one of the red shades to apply on. The one that was a deep blood red and reminded you of his blood manipulation.

It felt like an eternity of him staring at your lips being painted before he swallowed down the thoughts that crossed his mind briefly. “What.. should I be doing?”

Choso can’t help but feel a bit guilty for simply admiring you and doing nothing else. He glanced over to where you set up your phone for a moment before he turned back to you.

“Nothing yet. I still have to do something, so you can just stand there looking pretty for me.”

Your words brought a tint of pink to his cheeks as he struggled to think of a response. He soon settled with murmuring your name in a quiet, low voice.

Turning his head away, he heard your muted giggles and felt his face grow even warmer.

He doesn’t know how much time passes before you’re suddenly right in front of him. You’re forced to stand on your tippy toes just to reach out and cup his face, guiding him to look into your warm gaze.

It’s then that he noticed how perfectly painted your lips were. You looked absolutely breathtaking. Any and every thought in his mind disappeared, far distracted by the sight of your lips coming closer to his face.

Pleased at the prospect of a kiss, something he’ll never say no to, Choso leaned forwards.

Except right when he was about to capture your lips into a kiss, you tilted your head and pressed your lips against his cheeks. Your lips lingered against his skin for a moment before you finally leaned back and admired your work.

A stain in the shape of your lips is left on his cheek.

He can vaguely see it from the mirror you had been using. He can’t pull his gaze away from his reflection. The mark kept him in a trance that his heart skipped a beat at the thought.

He really likes the thought of having marks adorning his skin if they’re left by you.

A part of him wants to ask you to leave behind more marks, to smear your carefully done lipstick across his skin. But luckily, you sense this desire within him. Or maybe it’s simply because that’s what the trend requires (Choso wouldn’t know, he didn’t ask for the details on what this trend was about).

Either way, Choso’s pleased to see the way you leaned forwards again and smudge your lipstick by pressing more kisses on his face.

A significant amount of the lipstick is wasted in planting perfect marks all over Choso’s face. By the time you’re satisfied, he looked a bit dazed, resembling a love struck teenager who just kissed his boyfriend for the first time.

He can hear you barely holding off your chuckles before you make a comment, “This looks better on you than me.” You shoot him a grin and walk over to your phone, motioning him over.

Without hesitation, Choso slides up in the space beside you. You gave him a quick rundown over what you want for him to do, which he took to heart seriously to not disappoint you, while you set up the timer on your phone.

Like you requested, he ensures that he’s off to the side enough that he doesn’t appear in the frame of your phone.

Your phone displays the countdown and the selected audio you chose starts to play. You began to apply the lipstick on your lower lip, which you had apparently wiped clean at some point without him noticing.

The lipstick drags across your lower lip with bolder movements than your first attempts now that you have some experience under your belt. You soon ‘accidentally’ drag the lipstick down past your lip, leaving a smudge against your skin because of this mistake.

Ah, his cue.

Reaching out to grip your chin, Choso watched how you craned your neck to look up at him, and used his thumb to gently wipe away the stain.

The phone captured it all thanks to your subtle shifting of the phone to pan over to Choso. He looks as he always does, a bored expression resting on his face, but there’s no denying the fondness in his gaze.

His attention is solely fixated on you, never sparing a glance at your phone, until the audio comes to a stop and your phone replays what was just filmed. He refuses to move from his spot though his grip is loose for you to move out of it when you turn towards your phone.

He watches over your shoulder as you do all that is necessary before posting the Tiktok and redirecting your attention back to him.

You notice that he seems a bit lost in thought.

Before you could ask him what’s wrong, he speaks up.

“Can we use up the rest of your lipstick?”

And just like him, you can’t find it within yourself to tell him no.

#— ✦ ˙ 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 .ᐟ #choso x reader #choso x male reader #jjk choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jjk x reader #jjk x male reader

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miragemurder · 10 months

Text

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Spotlight

Pairing: Veneer x GN Reader

Genre: Fluff

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A Oneshot/short story for all the Veneer lovers out there, since there are a few fanfics. ★ ★ ★

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Lights, Camera, Action. Mount Rageous was a bustling city with many young and talented people alike. The city was mainly known for their famous singers as every road had a sign showing off the different types of music the place was made of. Bright colors everywhere as the overall vibe gave off an 80’s and 90’s type aesthetic. It honestly was overstimulating but most people didn’t mind.

You were out partying with one of your friends when you first heard about these overnight stars. They were the talk of the town, everyone knew them, besides you.

“Who?..”

“You’re telling me that you don’t know who the Velvet and Veneer are?”

“Let me guess, artists?” You sighed. Honestly you didn’t really care to keep track of the next upcoming popstars of the week. You just wanted to enjoy the music. Everyone here was so involved in everything it seemed almost tiring, and boring.

“Only the best artists ever! Have you heard their new single Watch Me Work? It’s absolutely amazing!” Your friend shrieked, obsessed with the new stars.

You shrugged and continued on with the rest of the party, joining in and dancing along to whatever was playing. You were having a good time until eventually it became tiring. You tapped on your friend’s shoulder signifying that you were gonna head to the bathroom but in all honesty, you just needed a break.

You headed to the left side of the club, back to where the bathrooms were. There were barely any people here surprisingly. You thought there would be more since, well it’s a club there’s probably some sort of shady shit happening. It was quite calm and you quietly thanked the lord. All the music and lights could be overstimulating. You were just about to head into the bathroom when you saw a hallway with a ramp a little far right to the bathrooms.

‘Hmm… wonder where that can lead to.” You thought. You shrugged it off and turned back around to go into the bathroom. You were just about to enter as you felt someone knock into your shoulder. You turned around confused, staring at who just bumped into you.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! Did I hurt you? These shoulder pads can be a bit… much.” The stranger stared at you, frantically apologizing and waving his hands around. You looked back with a wild expression. His hair was green and styled into a pompadour like mullet. He wore black pants that were oddly shaped and light pink shoes. His top was very extraordinarily as he had huge shoulder pads with a purple diamond on each side, and a smaller one on his chest.

“Oh no, you’re fine. I’m just surprised I didn’t see you there.” You laughed softly, watching his facial expression. He had a quizzical look on his face, like if you didn’t just realize who you were talking to.

“Heh.. yeah well honestly I don’t know why my sister picked this outfit, not my thing. Anyways, I got to get backstage, hope you’re enjoying the show.” He smiled and turned around, confidently strutting back out and heading up that weird hallway you were questioning earlier.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, questioning what just happened and why that guy was wearing such an outfit. You splashed your face with some water and closed your eyes, taking some time to relax before you went back out there. After a couple of minutes, you heard your phone buzz and quickly picked it up. It was a message from your friend.

“OMG! OMG! You have to hurry! Velvet and Veneer are gonna perform!” It read. You sighed, rolled your eyes, and put your phone back into your pocket.

You walked out of the bathroom and unwillingly went into the crowd of people. It was like the crowd got ten times louder, everyone excited to see the next performance. You groaned and continued to slide into the crowd, pushing around trying to get back to your friend.

“Hey I’m back, what’s going on?” You tapped your friends shoulder, making them aware of your presence.

“You made it just in time! Velvet and Veneer are gonna perform!” She squealed, holding onto your arm and jumping up and down. You pulled your arm back and nodded your head, not really caring about what your friend was talking about. Even if you didn’t care that much, you were still happy that she was happy.

The crowd quieted a little as the announcement over the speaker came on.

“Ladies and gentleman! Please welcome your stars of the show, Velvet and Veneer!”

Everyone started jumping up and down, dancing and overall going crazy. You watched as the two stars came out onto the stage when suddenly your stomach dropped. You recognized one of them.

Did you just accidentally meet Veneer?

You stood dazed and shocked while your friend was bouncing and cheering. They gave you a quick glance before they noticed your expression. Quickly, they stopped bouncing and came closer to your awkward self.

“Hey, are you alright?” They asked, putting a hand on your shoulder. They tried to comfort you but it was a little hard since the crowd of people were being pushed into you two.

“Yeah I just… remember when I went to the bathroom?” You glanced down then you turned your head to look up at them.

“Yeah of course, that was like fifteen minutes ago.” They laughed a little.

“Well, when I was waking in I kind of accidentally pumped into someone, and that someone may or may not have been.. Veneer.” You gave your friend an awkward smile, hoping that they would believe you accidentally just met a famous singer.

“Are you being serious? Like are you sure it was him?” Your friend questioned. They wanted to believe you but it sounded crazy. It’s very unlikely to accidentally walk into a celebrity.

“The guy had huge shoulder pads and green hair, I’m pretty sure it was him.” You tilted your head in a “duh” like manor. They gave you an amused look and then smiled.

“Well, what are we doing over here? We gotta get up close to see if he recognizes you!” They grabbed your hand and swiftly started pushing past people to get to the front of the stage. You were left shocked as you tried to pull your hand away from your friend’s monstrous grip.

“Wait I don’t think that’s a good idea-“ you yelled out, trying to get them to hear you.

“Of course it is! Come on!” They continued to push past the crowd of people until you guys got to the very front of the stage. You were terrified, your body was in a state of shock and panic as you watched the stars right above you. You watched as they performed their many songs, looking out into the crowd and waving at the audience.

You watched as Veneer looked down into the crowd, waving to people until he stopped and looked at you. His face faltered for a second before he got back into character. He smiled, waving at you until he did something a little unexpected.

He winked.

You felt like you just got set on fire, your face burning up to what felt like a thousand degrees. You gave him a shocked reaction, jaw dropped while you stood there motionless. He laughed and went back to looking at the rest of the crowd. You felt like you were gonna pass out.

——————————————————————————

A while after the whole party died down, you were in a corner of the club with your friend chilling and talking about random crap from your younger years. Most of the people left while some stayed with friends to drink and chat. It was almost time for the club to close before you saw someone walk out from backstage.

“Oh hey! It’s you!” Veneer walked up to you and your friend, a huge smile across his face.

“Oh my gosh we are such huge fans, can I have a picture!” Your friend cheered, bouncing up and down with their phone in hand.

“Why of course!” He laughed. Your friend brought up their phone and took what felt like five thousand photos.

“Thank you so much!” Your friend squealed. You tried to calm her down until you saw Veneer staring at you.

“So did you like the show? Was it worth it? Did I look good” He said that last part smugly, shrugging his shoulders with a smirk on his face. You giggled and nodded your head.

“It was really good! You guys did fantastic.” You smiled. You meet this guy a couple hours ago but it felt like love at first sight, as cringe as that may be.

“Well… I know I’m technically not allowed to do this but…” he held out a piece of paper with his name and number, you stared at it in shock.

“Here’s my number, if you ever wanna talk.” He looked up at you and gave you a kind-hearted smile. You nodded and thanked him.

“Well, would you look at the time! I must get going before Velvet kills me!” He laughed, slightly worried.

“No literally, she might actually kill me. Anyways it was nice meeting you…?” He paused, giving you a questioning look.

“[______]” you said, giving him a small smile.

“Ah [_____], it was nice meeting you!” He smiled as he walked off giving you a ‘call me’ sign with his fingers. You laughed and turned back to your friend.

“I cannot believe that just happened! Oh my god congrats!” They yelled while squishing you in a huge bear hug. You hugged them back, laughing and spinning around with them like you just won the lottery.

You’ll definitely be calling him later.

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Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed this oneshot/short story I made. It was barely revised and I don’t really have a lot of experience so I hope it was decent lol (He’s a little out of character.) It was quite fun and I hope to write more in the future! Leave requests in the comments!

Part 2: Secret

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#trolls #trolls band together #veneer x reader #velvet and veneer #veneer trolls #fanfic #gn reader #veneer #veneer trolls x Reader #oneshot #short story

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seeingivy · 1 year

Text

family rules

satoru gojo x f! reader

**read the other one’s here

in which a horrible fight, an even worse accident, and a few injuries leads to you, satoru, megumi, and tsumiki creating some family rules

Megumi sits across from you on the counter, his eyes narrowing at the ground, as you press a pack of frozen peas into his eye. He winces at the contact, his eye still swelling into a brilliant shade of purple.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, kid.” you whisper.

His head remains low, refusing to meet your eye. After his fourth fight of the month, you feel helpless with where you stand with him, unsure how you can help him regulate how he’s feeling. You knew violence was an easy outlet for him, something you’re sure you had Toji to thank for, but you still tried to get him to change his ways, at least a little bit.

Satoru’s approach, however, was squandering any efforts you were trying to make. The first time Megumi got into a fight, Satoru was positively pissed, not because Megumi punched a classmate, but because he didn’t place his thumb inside his fist. It was very infuriating for him to find out his kid couldn’t punch the right way.

The second and third fights were hardly any different, Satoru majorly concerned with whether or not Megumi won, or if he hurled any insults while fighting, rather than actually reprimanding him. You knew Satoru could be immature, like a gangly man-child at times, but you were growing frustrated with his carefree nature as of late.

At the end of the day, the two of you were responsible for Megumi. Tsumiki was easier in that sense, more receptive to the help you gave her. Slowly but surely, she had been coming out of her shell, coming to you and Satoru for help when she needed it. But Megumi was a stone cold rock, stubborn as they come. A blazing ball of anger.

You hear Satoru’s key jam into the door, ready to brace yourself for the talk you wanted to have with Megumi. You had texted Satoru earlier in the day, letting him know that Megumi had gotten into another fight and the two of you needed to have a talk from him.

He pads into the kitchen, a pale pink box resting in his hands. He places the box on the counter, pressing a swift kiss to your head and then Megumi’s. As he raids through the fridge, you open the box out of curiosity and feel your blood boiling. The cake says congratulations megumi in pale blue frosting.

“Megs, do you mind joining Miki upstairs for a minute? I need to speak with Gojo over here.” you say, straining a smile at him.

Both Megumi and Satoru’s eyes widen, the use of his last name signaling to Megumi that he should leave while he still can. Megumi stalks away, taking his bag of frozen peas with him.

“You have got to be kidding me, Satoru. You bought him a cake for punching another kid in the face?” you say, clenching your fists in efforts to stay calm.

“It’s just a joke, my love. No harm done. I’ll talk to him about it later. You know, all that cheesy stuff you say - words before violence, be the bigger man by walking away.” he says, pressing a consolation kiss to your cheek as he sets out plates for dinner.

You cross your hands over your chest, absolutely livid with him. How can he be so calm about this?

“Satoru, be serious for one minute. Megumi is our responsibility. You’re doing him a disservice if we keep letting him process his anger this way. Don’t lead him down the wrong path.” you say, turning towards him.

He turns to face you, clearly frustrated with your insistence. You knew he thought you were a little bit of a stickler, the complete opposite of his carefree nature, but he usually loved you for it. However, your differences came with butting heads often, especially when it came to Tsumiki and Megumi.

“I’m not leading him anywhere wrong. You’re setting him up for failure if you tell him to keep letting kids push him around like that. You’re the one leading him down the wrong path.” he states, crossing his arms across his chest. Childish, even during a fight.

“Solving your problems with fists isn’t always the answer, Satoru. This is why he doesn’t talk to us when we ask him what’s wrong. We have to wait for him to explode, just to find out he was suffering the entire time.” you respond, clenching your fists so hard you’re sure you’ve drawn blood.

“Whatever problem he has, I’ll deal with it. Remember, he’s my kid, not yours. My responsibility. So I’ll figure out what’s best for him moving forward.”

He waits for a response, his eyes still boring into yours. You don’t bite back, but instead turn around to face the door, the tears welling in your eyes.

“All quiet now, Y/N? Have nothing to say to me?” he says.

“No, I don’t.” you bite back, bitterness evident in your voice.

“And why’s that? You sure had a lot to say a few minutes ago.”

“Because. He’s your kid. Not mine. It’s not really my business what he does, is it?” you spit back, turning to him with your tear filled eyes.

As much as you can care for Megumi, he’s right. Tsumiki and Megumi are technically his kids, you’re just his girlfriend who happened to stick around once they arrived. And as much as you can care and love the two of them, that doesn’t earn you a place in their family.

You feel Satoru’s fingers crawl around your wrist, his face softer than it was minutes ago.

“Hey, hey. Wait a minute.”

You shrug his wrist off, grab your keys, and run out the door. There’s no point in staying somewhere you don’t belong in the first place.

You ignore Satoru for a few hours, currently eating ramen on a very annoyed Shoko’s couch. Nanami was here as well, having been around helping her hang some paintings in her room. You feel your phone buzzing on the other side of the couch, sure it’s Satoru spam calling you after you had been ignoring his texts.

He had been texting periodically every thirty minutes, but had resorted to calling for the past ten. Shoko thinks you should slap him once, set him straight for good. Nanami thinks the two of you should talk it out, maybe explain where you’re both coming from.

You choose to ignore both of their advice, opting to watch Ten Things I Hate About You and diminish Shoko’s ramen supplies one bowl at a time instead.

Shoko runs into the room, followed shortly by Nanami, who has a phone pressed to his ear. They’re both rushing around the room, putting on their shoes and shoving random items into a bag.

“Y/N, get up. Right now! We have to go.” says Shoko, placing your shoes in front of you as you still pace the room.

You stand up, moving slowly for your shoes. They’re both still rushing around you, filling the backpack with an extra pair of clothes and the entire bunch of bananas sitting at the counter.

“Where are we going?”

They seemed to have missed the question you had just asked. Shoko nearly falls rushing upstairs to grab something, a sense of urgency present in the two of them as they move around you.

“Do you know Megumi’s blood type?” says Nanami, as he hands you a hoodie to wear.

“His blood type? Why do you need his blood type?” you say, pulling his hoodie on.

“Satoru and Megumi. They got into a car accident. They’re both at the hospital now.” he says, your blood turning cold.

He places his hand to your shoulder, squeezing once in support. A car accident. They both got into a car accident. You look up at Nanami, his brown eyes filled with concern.

“O negative. His blood type is O negative.” you whisper, grabbing your phone from the couch and heading out the door with the two of them.

As you scroll through the notifications on your phone, you realize the person calling you wasn’t Satoru, it was the hospital. You were the first emergency contact, followed directly by Nanami, who had actually picked up the phone.

Nanami nods in response, relaying the blood type on the phone. The three of you file into the car, Shoko sitting with you in the back, her hand clasped into yours.

“I know all the doctors there, they’re going to be just fine.” she says, securing her seatbelt on.

You nod, twiddling with your house key in your pocket. You pull out your phone, texting Tsumiki to see where she is. Nanami had only mentioned Satoru and Megumi, the thought of her sitting all alone in a room somewhere worsening your mood all together. As you open your phone, you finally read all of Satoru’s texts, the one’s he sent after your fight.

i’m sorry love

you know i didn’t mean it

just come back, you know he’s our kid

you’re a part of our family

i know you’re right. he shouldn’t be punching people every time he disagrees with them. i just have trouble being too hard on him, i don’t want to be like my parents

not an excuse. i know i’m in the wrong. we can have the talk with him like you wanted. just come back y/n.

kids are getting real upset with you gone, they miss you already

we’re coming to get you.

You drop your phone onto the floor of the car, the tears flowing freely now. They were coming to get you. You’re the reason they were in that car in the first place.

Shoko places a hand to your back, directing you to calm your breathing as you enter the parking lot. Nanami parks the car and you’re rolling out of the car, your feet dragging you the doors of the Emergency Department.

As you enter the waiting room, you spot Tsumiki sitting on the chair alone, her cheeks pink from crying. You run over to her, crushing her in your embrace. You feel her cry against you, separating to check she wasn’t injured.

“The blood, it’s not mine. It’s Satoru’s.” she says, hiccuping in between her words from crying.

You feel a tightness in your chest, feeling nauseous at the thought of how much blood is on her shirt. How much blood did he lose? You cross your heart that he’s still conscious at the least, so you can tell him how sorry you are for leaving in the first place.

“Megumi?” you ask, still holding her in your arms.

“He cut his arm, but I think they said he was going to be okay. They won’t let me in since I’m not over fourteen.”

“That’s okay. Stay here with Auntie Shoko and Uncle Nanami. I’ll go ahead and check on them and come back okay?” you say, pressing a kiss to the top of her forehead.

“I want to be a part of your family.” she says, her eyes colored red. You feel your heart squeeze at her words, slightly upset at yourself for even putting that idea in her mind in the first palace.

“You are a part of my family, Miki. Me and Satoru were just having a little disagreement, that’s all.” you respond, squeezing her hand twice before heading towards the doors of the ER.

You brace yourself, pushing the two double doors open. You see Satoru’s white hair first, lying in the bed directly across from the doors. He’s hooked up to two IV’s, his eye a brilliant purple.

You walk in, grabbing his hand in yours. His eyes flutter open, his eyes softening at the sight of you across from him. He squeezes your hand twice, wincing as he sits up in his bed to face you.

“If you put on a cute little nurse's uniform, we could live out one of my biggest fantasies right now.” he whispers, his hand caressing the side of your cheek.

You laugh through your tears, cursing his idiocy in moments like this. He’s okay. He’s making perverted sex jokes while he’s in a hospital bed. He’s more than okay. You look back at him, his blue eyes staring into yours. You can feel the tears flowing out of your eyes, your neck drenched in your tears.

“Hey, hey. I’m okay.” he says, opening his bandaged arms for you to enter his embrace.

“Don’t do that again, ‘Toru. I thought you left me. You’re the only family I have.” you say, pressing your face against the side of his neck, taking in his familiar musky smell.

“Excuse me little lady. You’re the one who left me. You’re the only family I have too. Can’t believe you thought otherwise for even a second.” he says, his hand running through the side of your hair.

“You just seemed so mad. And technically, he is your kid.”

He tightens his grip, pulling you away from his chest to look at you.

“He’s our kid. I got mad but that’s what family does, love. We disagree, get into a fight, but come back to each other at the end. Kind of broke the rules by walking away, silly girl.” he says, his fingers poking into the soft of your cheek.

“We don’t have any rules. But, I won’t walk away again.” you say, cupping his face in your hands.

“Better not. I’ll crash the car again to bring you back.”

You glare at him, squishing his face tighter in your hands. Still immature, even in a hospital bed.

“There’s that downright horrifying glare I love.” he laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You smile in response, pressing a kiss to his cheek in response.

“Where’s Megumi?” you ask, settling back into his arms.

“Getting stitches. I tried to join him back there, but they wouldn’t let me.” he says.

“I’ll send Miki in to sit with you. She’s out there crying puddles. I’ll try to see if I can go in there and hold his hand.”

He nods in response, letting go of you as you get off the bed next to him.

You watch Tsumiki run into Satoru’s arms as soon as she enters the double doors with you. You watch him hold her close, whispering into her ear as you cross the hallway to find Megumi.

Before you grabbed Tsumiki, Satoru had mentioned that Megumi and Tsumiki had heard parts of your fight and seemed slightly bothered by the entire ordeal together. Tsumiki’s comment from earlier suddenly made a lot more sense to you.

You find Megumi at the end of the hallway, wincing at the doctor putting stitches in his hand. When you reach his bed, you press a kiss to the top of his head, holding his free hand in yours. Your tears have returned, the relief flooding through you that your kid is mostly still intact.

He squeezes your hand as the doctor continues, salty tears streaming down his face. You swipe your fingers across his cheek, wiping away the wetness with your hands.

“Are you mad at me?” he whispers, his eyes still narrowed towards the ground.

“No. Are you mad at me?”

“No.”

The two of you sit in silence, your hands still pressed together as the doctor continues the stitches. You can’t help but stare, eyeing Megumi for any signs of pain as time goes on. He has a long gash running down the length of his arm, a few pieces of glass lodged near his wrist.

“I won’t fight anymore.”

You shoot him a weak smile, letting him lean his head against your shoulder. The two of you sit in silence for a while, with him rubbing circles into the side of your hand as the doctor finishes. You and Megumi walk out of the hallway, his arm fully bandaged, to meet Tsumiki and Satoru back outside.

Tsumiki runs over, crushing you and Megumi into a hug. You see Satoru’s shoulders relax at the sight of Megumi, running his hands through the kid's hair as the two of you walk up to them.

You bend down, holding the two of them in your arms, with Satoru still sitting up in his bed.

“So I was thinking.”

“You can do that?” responds Megumi, effectively cutting off Satoru from whatever he was saying.

You and Tsumiki laugh in response, you ruffling his hair. You swear you can see the makings of a smile spreading across his face.

“Since we’re a family…we have to lay down some ground rules. We never made any when we started living together. First, Tsumiki always has to do whatever I say.”

The three of you glare at him, none of you finding his joke amusing.

“I’m kidding, obviously. Tough crowd. My first real rule is for Megumi. You can’t punch someone every time you’re upset with them. No more fighting.”

You smile at him, your heart beaming at his words. Megumi nods in response, agreeing to the first rule put out.

“Second, we all stay together, no matter what. No walking away. We can argue all night for all I care, but no one walks away.”

The three of you nod in response, agreeing again. Tsumiki speaks up this time, cutting Satoru off.

“Three. No arguing if we can avoid it. At least not all the time anyways.”

You and Satoru promise her you won’t fight, at least not like that again. The four of you huddle together, squeezing each other into the tightest hug known to man.

“I have one.” says Megumi, whispering into your ears. You nod at him, telling him to speak up.

“No one leaves the house without saying goodbye. You especially, Mom.”

Mom. Mom. Megumi just called you Mom. You stare down at him, meeting his gaze. You can see Satoru gaping at the two of you in your peripheral vision. He pushes himself further into the hug, hiding his face against Satoru’s shirt, the tips of his ears pink. You look over at Satoru, smiling at him. You can feel his pouting starting already, you knew Satoru was competitive when it came to these things.

You hold them all close, soaking in the warmth of the three of them against you. You feel Satoru’s hand tangle with yours behind Tsumiki’s back, his forehead resting against yours.

“Hey, fifth rule. Everyone calls me daddy from now on.”

Megumi and Tsumiki groan in response, disgusted by his choice of words. You lightly tug at the ends of his hair, signaling him to shut up and stop ruining your first moment as a family. The four of you head out of the ER, hand in hand, with a congratulations megumi cake waiting for the four of you at home.

#satoru #satoru x y/n #satoru x #satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x you #gojo satorou #satoru x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu megumi #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro tsumiki #jujutsu kaisen #seeingivywrites!

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