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hivemuthur · 1 day ago

Note

If it’s okay to request, may I request hcs or something with Viktor where he’s dating an autisc reader?

Okay, first of - I have no idea what I have done to be granted such trust, thank you so much Anon! I have been provided amazing advice from @rennethen while writing this and done some research and I hope, I hope, I hope it meets expectations.

ViktorXAutistic!Reader HeadCannons

viktorxgn!reader mature, fluff and again: Viktor setting impossible standards for real-life men

author’s note: I have decided to not include tics, as they come in so many variations and I didn't want to impose anything upon Readers, but I can imagine Viktor being a total sweetheart about them.

word count: 1,4K

—

Since your first meeting, Viktor has been smitten with your bluntness and your ability to take his acrimonious jokes apart without a hint of incredulity in your voice. The way you keep asking subsidiary questions until you dig through the layers of his sass to the actual thing he meant to say leaves his soul naked as day, every single time. Finally, an inquisitive mind, he thinks to himself, as you go for the killing blow:

“So, what you’ve meant to say is that you find me attractive?”

“Eh, I suppose that is what I meant,” he admits dumbly, scratching the back of his neck. “Though usually I tend to be a little bit less straight forward.”

“I prefer straight forward,” you tell him with wide eyes.

“I… I shall remember that.”

Viktor soon realises that being asked a lot of questions makes him blush in a funny way and his chest gets all fuzzy. So, he begins to share every little aspect of his work with you. The more questions you ask, the warmer his heart gets and somehow the way you get excited about his ideas is worth more than any other academical pat on the back he ever received.

Before asking you out for the first time, Viktor conducts a thorough research, not very different to the ones he conducts for the sake of a thesis. He finds out what are your favourite places and favourite spots to sit. He books two reservations, just in case.

He does the same thing when you try out a new place. Just in case. It has proven useful only once.

As a man who values routine, he finds it absolutely endearing that good things remain in your orbit for a long time and discovers that being greeted with his own name by the barista is actually a nice little feeling.

When he asked you if he could kiss you for the first time, he held his breath while you were reconsidering. He found it hard not to laugh stupidly and nod his head a couple times too many when you responded with the same question.

He cupped your face and brushed his thumb on your lip tentatively. At first, he just rubbed his nose against yours. Then, his cheek, as he pulled you closer. You decided his hair smelled nice and that he could proceed. You didn’t know what to do with your hands at first, because he was wearing an incredibly itchy jumper, so you settled on his neck, and he took it as an invitation to kiss you deeper.

When you told him about it he gave the jumper to Caitlyn, and even though the sleeves are not long enough for her, she wears it often. Gradually, Viktor is in the process of exchanging his wardrobe to touch-friendly materials, currently he is half-way through. He wears the offensive clothes to meetings with Jayce, because Jayce will hug even a hedgehog.

You teach Viktor the value of comfort, not just in the clothing department. Suddenly he finds that his blankets are softer and that his flat increased the base number of cushions.

He religiously cuts the tags out of your clothes and his work is so precise it’s as if the tag was never there in the first place.

Viktor will still periodically ask for a permission to touch you, only to hear “Yes, please.” And it still makes him blush.

He keeps two notebooks—one on your current food fixations. He writes down a start date of each and marks every little alteration. He examines the lifecycle of each dish, as you eat it every day for a month and suddenly stop, to move on to the next one. On the back of the notebook he has a list of old reliables.

The second notebook, he treats more seriously—it’s a journal of stimming. He makes a note of each gesture in order to recognize your emotions better. After a while he is able to tell if you are feeling overwhelmed, just excited or trying to concentrate.

He is completely bemused by the fact that you always know what entered the bowl first—the cereal or the milk.

When you unconsciously repeat words back at him in his accent he makes it intentionally heavier, because he finds in unbearably cute.

After some time, he’s learned to recognise when you are masking. When it happened for the first time, he allowed himself a pinch of panic. Only when you unravelled at home, he sighed, partially relieved, and made a note of it in his journal.

Viktor carries a pair of noise cancelling headphones when you go out together. He puts them on you if you get overstimulated and presents you with something else to shift your focus into—a tight hug, a smell or he presses gently on your shoulders to steady you.

If you happen to have a meltdown at either of your homes, he wordlessly prepares you your favourite food and stays close enough for you to reach. Sometimes, he does a full body scan with you, to see which part requires the most attention.

There are certain sounds that Viktor makes which you particularly like—the click of his tongue, the intercepting ‘ehs’ and ‘ahs’—and once he connects the dots between him making those and a smile that always blooms on your face, he produces as many as he can, while still sounding natural.

He enjoys just existing with you. Sitting in the same room, while he works, and you read is his definition of a happy place. Just glancing over to you, your tongue filling your cheek as you read something particularly interesting, the small sounds you make at turning points in the story make his heart flutter.

He finds himself involuntarily memorizing the lyrics of the songs you play on repeat. He has no idea who the artist are, but he knows their songs by heart now. It makes him feel old, in a funny way.

It completely disarms him, when you return his gifts. After three futile attempts to give you something of popular romantic demand, he scolded himself for not changing the method soon enough. Instead of jewellery, he encourages your special interests, through getting you books on the topics or taking you places that embody your passions.

On the other side of the coin, your gifts are deeply appreciated. Every little pebbling trinket has it’s special place in the box on his desk. He takes them out periodically and counts how many times a tiny detail in the chaos of the outside world has made you think of him.

For dates, Viktor chooses times and days in which the world is less crowded. Instead of a busy Saturday night, you go out in the middle of the week. After a particularly failed attempt of gifting you perfume, Viktor takes you to a balm perfume workshop, where you can make scents for each other that are buildable and unoffensive to sensitive skin.

He’s built an intimacy with you that is based on trust and constant checking. He takes care of the mood and gives you enough stops to reconsider on the way.

You both talk a lot during sex. A change of mind is natural and there is enough space made for it. He has learned a lot about himself, and his self-esteem strengthened, when he realised that, ‘I don’t like it,’ doesn’t mean ‘I don’t like you.’

If, for whatever reason, the communication turns nonverbal, you both have come up with a system of pats that signals where each of you should direct your attention.

Your inquisitive mind helped him find three additional positions, in which he feels comfortable and painless, and it eludes him entirely how he could have missed them.

Viktor’s favourite part of aftercare is cuddling you naked. He adores the way your warm body melts into his. If you add head scratches to it, he will fall asleep in your arms. He breaths in the smell of your hair and his heart beat evens out with yours.

#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor fanfic #viktor x f!reader #arcane #arcane fanfic #my writing #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #viktor x oc #viktor nation #request #viktor x gn!reader #viktor fluff #viktor x reader fluff #viktor headcannons #arcane headcannons #viktor hcs #arcane hcs

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writingsoftarnishedsilver · 2 days ago

Note

i just imagine mc loving driving sebastian up the wall by whispering things like I want you inside me or I want to taste you before walking away like nothing all day sebastian and his will power are holding on by a thread

One of Those Days | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

ahhhh anon thank you for this request I had sooo much fun torturing Seb while writing this. I hope you enjoy it too!!

Words: ~5,500

Tags: Implied Smut, Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, Post Canon, Seventh Year, Angst, Teasing, Longing, Established Relationship

Friday mornings always held a certain promise for Sebastian. The week’s end brought the light at the end of the tunnel: no more late-night study sessions, no looming deadlines, and—best of all—plans for the weekend. And this weekend was shaping up to be exceptional.

He was seated at the Slytherin table across from Ominis, who was currently buttering a piece of toast with his usual meticulous care. Sebastian leaned back, cradling his coffee, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Why are you so smug this morning?” Ominis asked without looking up, his tone laced with suspicion.

Sebastian chuckled. “It’s Friday. The weekend awaits. And tomorrow’s plans? Impeccable.” He leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice. “She got me tickets for the Puddlemere United match. Front row.”

Ominis raised an eyebrow, still focused on his toast. “Ah, yes. Your doting girlfriend, endlessly spoiling you. Do remind me how the universe decided that you deserved her?”

“Still trying to figure that out myself,” Sebastian replied, taking a sip of his coffee. He grinned despite the jab. Ominis had been endlessly teasing him about your relationship since it had started over a year ago, but Sebastian couldn’t blame him. He still felt like he was getting away with something by having you in his life.

His gaze drifted to the Great Hall’s double doors for the third time in as many minutes. You were always late to breakfast—perpetually running behind in the morning.

“She’s late,” Ominis said flatly.

“She’s always late,” Sebastian replied, unable to keep the affection out of his voice. “You’d think by seventh year she’d have mastered the concept of time.”

“She must have overslept,” Ominis mused, as if it weren’t the obvious explanation. “Again.”

“She was up late,” Sebastian said defensively. “Studying."

“Is that what she told you?” Ominis asked, tilting his head with a knowing smirk. "Let's be honest, she was probably off fighting acromantulas in the forest again."

Sebastian opened his mouth to reply, but then he spotted you slipping through the doors, looking every bit as radiant as he’d expected. His heart did its usual stupid flip at the sight of you.

You glanced around the room, spotting him instantly. That smile widened, and you started toward the Slytherin table.

“Speak of the devil,” Ominis huffed a laugh, though Sebastian barely heard him. His attention was fixed entirely on you as you approached.

“Morning, boys,” you greeted, slipping into the seat beside Sebastian as though you weren’t a solid twenty minutes late. “Miss me?”

Sebastian leaned closer, brushing his shoulder against yours. “Always. Though I was starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost.”

“Got caught up,” you replied breezily, reaching for a piece of toast. “You know how it is.”

Ominis sighed. “No, we don’t. Some of us value punctuality.”

You smirked at him, your eyes glinting with mischief. “And yet, I still manage to charm you both despite my flaws. A talent, really.”

“Somehow, I don’t think it’s charm so much as sheer persistence,” Ominis replied dryly, but there was a flicker of a smile tugging at his lips.

Before you could reply, Imelda Reyes appeared behind him, her usual air of impatience in full force.

“Ominis, did you finish the notes for Professor Binns’ essay?” she asked brusquely, tapping her foot as if she had somewhere more important to be.

Ominis sighed heavily. “Yes, Imelda. Not that I understand why you insist on taking history so seriously. You do realize it’s impossible to impress a ghost?”

As Ominis turned his attention to Imelda’s complaints, you leaned toward Sebastian, the faint scent of your shampoo teasing him as you spoke just low enough for him to hear.

“You know,” you murmured, “I had a dream about you last night.”

Sebastian froze, the casual sip of coffee he’d been mid-swig nearly going down the wrong pipe. He coughed, turning his head away to avoid choking outright. When he finally managed to compose himself, he looked at you, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“And what, exactly, was this dream about?” he asked, keeping his voice even.

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you picked up your teaspoon, delicately stirring your tea, your gaze fixed on the swirling liquid as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. When you finally lifted your eyes to meet his, you tilted your head, your lips curving into a slow, deliberate smile.

“Nothing appropriate for breakfast conversation,” you replied sweetly, dragging the edge of the spoon between your lips.

Sebastian’s brain short-circuited. He stared at you, a faint pink creeping up the back of his neck as you set the spoon down with an air of innocence. You went back to buttering your toast like you hadn’t just shattered his ability to think coherently.

“Everything all right, Sebastian?” Ominis asked, his attention back on him now that Imelda had left.

Sebastian cleared his throat. “Fine,” he said quickly. Too quickly.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, biting into your toast to hide your grin. Ominis raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but didn’t press further.

You sipped your tea serenely, but Sebastian could feel the amusement radiating off you in waves. He knew that look. The playful light in your eyes, the subtle curve of your lips—it was the look you always got when you were about to cause trouble. And Merlin, it was only breakfast, but you’d already decided to make this one of those days.

He sighed internally, doing some quick mental math.

It lined up. Of course, it did.

Three weeks ago, you’d asked him to come with you to the apothecary, dragging him along while explaining that you needed to restock ingredients for a potion you brewed monthly. He had listened with genuine interest, mostly because you had a knack for making even mundane things captivating. You’d laughed when he asked a few questions, calling him “endearingly clueless for someone so brilliant,” and gone on to share more details about how the potion worked to ease period pains. But now, as he connected the dots, realization dawned with the weight of inevitability.

You were ovulating.

Sebastian’s stomach did a little flip, and a faint, involuntary heat crept up his neck. That explained everything: your heightened playfulness, the way you leaned just a little closer, the way your teasing had an edge that sent sparks skittering down his spine. You were always a minx—bold, confident, and unrepentantly mischievous—but there was something about these days that tipped you from charming troublemaker to full-blown menace. And now that he’d caught on, he knew exactly what kind of day this was shaping up to be.

He was in trouble.

The rest of breakfast passed in a blur. You kept your hands to yourself, but every glance, every comment, you sent his way held that same spark. It was enough to make him want to tug you into an empty corridor and—

“Ready for class?” Your voice broke through his spiraling thoughts, cheerful as ever. You rose from your seat, brushing crumbs from your skirt as if you hadn’t spent the last fifteen minutes planting suggestive landmines in his brain. He swallowed hard and nodded, pushing his chair back to stand.

Ominis muttered something about Sebastian being unusually quiet, but Sebastian waved him off, claiming he was still waking up. A complete lie—he was wide awake now.

As the three of you made your way to Charms, Sebastian tried to steel himself. He knew better than to let you get under his skin this early in the day. If he gave in to your antics now, you’d win—and you loved to win.

The moment you slid into the seat beside him, he felt the familiar brush of your knee against his under the desk. He told himself it was unintentional until you shifted just enough to press against him more deliberately. His gaze flicked to you, but you were already pulling out your parchment, looking perfectly innocent.

When Professor Ronen began the lecture, Sebastian attempted to focus. It lasted all of five minutes before you leaned toward him, your lips brushing the shell of his ear.

“Your concentration is admirable, really,” you whispered, the soft warmth of your breath sending a shiver down his spine.

His quill faltered mid-stroke, leaving a jagged mark across the parchment. He turned his head, intending to glare at you, but you were already sitting back, your expression unreadable as you scribbled down notes, head tilted in concentration, the very picture of academic diligence. But then he felt it—your hand, light as a feather, brushing against his thigh under the table. His breath hitched. You didn’t react, didn’t even glance his way. Instead, your quill kept moving steadily across the parchment as though you hadn’t just set his pulse racing.

Your fingers rested there for a moment, almost as if testing the waters, before you began to trace slow, deliberate circles against the fabric of his trousers. Sebastian swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as he gripped his quill. He tried to will himself to focus, to block out the sensation, but you didn’t stop. In fact, you leaned slightly closer, your arm brushing his as you added a flourish to your notes.

“Comfortable?” you murmured, your voice low enough that no one else could hear.

Sebastian glanced at you sharply, his eyes narrowing in warning, but you didn’t look at him. The only sign of your mischief was the faintest twitch at the corner of your lips.

His hand twitched, tempted to grab yours and stop you before you pushed him any further, but he knew better. Drawing attention to what you were doing would only give you more satisfaction. So instead, he gritted his teeth and leaned slightly away, his voice a hushed growl. “Behave.”

You finally turned to him, feigning wide-eyed innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Seb,” you said, your tone sticky sweet. “I’m just taking notes.”

The corners of your lips quirked upward, and Sebastian let out a slow exhale. You were relentless, and this was only the beginning. He shifted slightly in his seat, praying for the class to end quickly before he did something that would land both of you in detention.

But then your hand slid higher, and all thoughts of self-control vanished in a haze of heat and frustration.

“Are you trying to get us caught?” he muttered, his voice strained. His hand moved under the desk to still yours.

You leaned in slightly, your lips close to his ear. “What’s the fun in that?” you whispered, your breath warm against his skin.

Sebastian’s jaw clenched, his knuckles white as he gripped his quill. He managed to hold on until Professor Ronen called for the end of class . You finally withdrew your hand, gathering your things with a pleased smile that only deepened the blush on his cheeks.

When Defense Against the Dark Arts rolled around, Sebastian had convinced himself that you’d already done your worst for the day. Charms had been a test of endurance, but surely you couldn’t keep it up through another class—especially not with Professor Hecat keeping a watchful eye.

You slid into the seat next to him without a word, a soft hum of a tune under your breath as you unpacked your things. Sebastian didn’t miss the glint of mischief still lingering in your eyes, but he chose to ignore it.

Professor Hecat began the lesson with her usual briskness, outlining the day’s activity: practicing defensive and offensive spells in pairs.

Sebastian exhaled in relief. Partner work meant he could focus on the task at hand, and spell practice was something he excelled at. He cast a sidelong glance at you, waiting for the inevitable quip about how you’d wipe the floor with him. But instead, you gave him an easy smile, looking far too composed for his comfort.

“Alright, partner,” you said, drawing your wand and stepping into position across from him. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Sebastian smirked, eager to reclaim some sense of control after the morning’s torment. “Ladies first,” he said, gesturing for you to make the first move.

You raised your wand, your posture flawless, but before casting, you paused. “It’s so warm in here,” you murmured, loosening your tie and pulling it free with a casual flick. You undid the top two buttons of your blouse, fanning yourself with your hand. “Don’t you think?”

Sebastian stiffened, his smirk vanishing. “I—what?”

You gave him a pointed look, as if waiting for an answer, before shrugging lightly. “Never mind. Let’s get started.”

He barely had time to blink before you cast Expelliarmus, your wand aimed with precision. The spell hit him squarely, sending his wand spinning out of his hand. You grinned triumphantly as you caught it midair.

“Not bad, huh?” you teased, your voice light and smug.

Sebastian huffed, running a hand through his hair to buy himself a moment. “Not bad,” he echoed, stepping closer. “Now, hand it over.”

You tilted your head, your eyes gleaming with playful defiance. Instead of returning his wand immediately, you held it up, forcing him to move closer. “Come and get it."

Sebastian gritted his teeth, closing the distance between you. His pulse quickened the moment he got close enough to take in the details: the faint flush across your cheeks, the way your chest rose and fell just slightly faster than normal, and—Merlin help him—the open collar of your blouse that gave him a perfect view of your collarbones and just enough cleavage to make his mouth go dry.

He hesitated for a fraction of a second, his gaze flickering to yours. Your pupils were blown wide, and that maddening smirk was still firmly in place. You smelled like your usual perfume, that subtle scent that had been driving him to distraction all day, mixed with the faintest trace of parchment and ink.

Sebastian’s hand shot out to take his wand, but you pulled it back at the last second, your smirk widening. “What’s the matter? You look a bit tense.”

He took another step closer, his chest nearly brushing yours. The air between you crackled with tension, and he was certain you could hear the rapid thud of his heartbeat. He locked eyes with you, his voice low and rough. “I’m starting to think you want me tense.”

You shrugged. "Not sure what you're talking about."

Sebastian’s jaw tightened, his patience hanging by a thread. He reached for his wand again, his fingers brushing against yours as he finally pried it from your grip. For a moment, his hand lingered over yours, his thumb skimming the back of it before he pulled away.

“Your turn,” you said, stepping back with a satisfied smile. “Let’s see if you can disarm me.”

Sebastian let out a slow breath, gripping his wand tighter. Focus, he told himself, though it was easier said than done with the way you were looking at him—like you were daring him to lose control.

“All right,” he said, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. “Ready?”

“Always,” you replied, your smile unwavering.

He raised his wand, channeling every ounce of his frustration into the spell. Expelliarmus! The red jet of light shot toward you, and your wand flew from your hand, clattering to the floor behind you.

You sighed dramatically, shaking your head. “Well done,” you said, your tone dripping with mock defeat. “I suppose I’ll have to get that.”

Sebastian watched, helpless, as you turned and bent over to retrieve your wand, taking your sweet time as you reached for it. His gaze betrayed him, trailing down the curve of your back to your hips and further still. The hem of your skirt rode up as you bent, barely covering what it was meant to, and leaving absolutely nothing to Sebastian's already frazzled imagination.

He swallowed hard, dragging his eyes away with an effort that felt almost physical. Merlin, you were going to kill him. He could already feel the warmth creeping up the back of his neck, and he prayed to every deity he could name that no one else was paying attention.

When you straightened and turned back to him, wand in hand, your smirk was firmly in place.

“Enjoy the view?” you asked, tilting your head as if the question were perfectly innocent.

Sebastian couldn’t help the low growl that escaped him as he stepped closer again, his voice a quiet warning. “Keep it up, and you’ll regret it.”

Your grin widened, utterly unrepentant. “Is that a threat?”

For a split second, he considered saying something that would wipe that smirk off your face, but Professor Hecat’s sharp voice cut through the tension. “Back to your positions!” she barked, her gaze darting between the two of you. “Focus, Mr. Sallow, Miss—”

“Yes, Professor,” Sebastian said quickly, stepping back and trying to calm his racing heart. But as he moved into position, he could still smell your perfume lingering in the air, and the image of your teasing smirk was seared into his mind.

He was barely holding it together, and the day was far from over. But surely, over lunch and surrounded by friends, he’d have some semblance of a reprieve. You wouldn’t dare push things in front of an audience—or so he hoped.

He slid into a seat beside Ominis, who was already stirring a bowl of soup to cool it off. Garreth and Natty sat across from them, deep in a lively debate about the Honeydukes confections.

Sebastian exhaled a small sigh of relief as you arrived a few moments later, seating yourself between Natty and Garreth across from him. You greeted everyone cheerfully, plucking a goblet of pumpkin juice from the table with your usual grace. For a fleeting moment, Sebastian thought he might actually survive the meal unscathed.

He was wrong.

You reached for the fruit platter in front of you, selecting a piece of pineapple and popping it into your mouth with a content hum. Sebastian caught himself watching the way your lips curled around your fingers, quickly tearing his gaze away as heat crept up his neck.

He wasn’t fast enough. You noticed, of course, and your eyes gleamed with mischief as you plucked another piece of pineapple, holding it up thoughtfully.

“Sebastian,” you said, your tone far too casual, “do you eat pineapple often?”

His brow furrowed. “Uh, not really. Why?”

You shrugged, biting into the pineapple and chewing slowly before answering. “Oh, it’s just something I read once. Supposedly, it makes… certain things taste better.”

The words hung in the air for a split second before their meaning hit him like a Stupefy spell. His jaw dropped, and he felt the heat in his cheeks spread like wildfire.

Garreth, who had been mid-sip of pumpkin juice, choked and started coughing, his face contorted with suppressed laughter. Natty’s eyes widened before she covered her mouth with her hand, a muffled giggle escaping. Even Ominis, usually the picture of composure, pinched the bridge of his nose with a long-suffering sigh.

Sebastian, on the other hand, was frozen, torn between mortification and the desperate urge to throttle you—or kiss you senseless. “You—” he spluttered, his voice low and strained. “You can’t just—why would you—”

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “What? It’s just a question. I’m curious.”

“Curious,” Sebastian echoed, his voice a growl. His grip tightened on his goblet, knuckles white as he tried to maintain some semblance of composure.

You grinned, clearly pleased with yourself, and went back to your meal as if nothing had happened. Garreth finally managed to stop coughing, wiping tears from his eyes as he laughed. “Merlin’s beard, Sebastian, you’re as red as my tie.”

“Shut it, Weasley,” Sebastian muttered, glaring at him before shooting you a dark look.

Ominis sighed again, his patience clearly wearing thin. “Do the two of you ever give it a rest? Some of us are trying to eat in peace.”

Sebastian gritted his teeth, forcing himself to focus on his plate. You, meanwhile, continued to eat with maddening grace, each bite more deliberate than the last. To anyone else, you seemed completely oblivious, but Sebastian knew better. The way your lips lingered on the edge of your goblet, how your tongue darted out to catch the stray drop of pumpkin juice, the slow way you licked your fingers after finishing a piece of fruit—it was all deliberate, and it was driving him insane.

When lunch finally ended, Sebastian practically leapt to his feet, eager to put some distance between you. But as the group began to disperse, you slipped up beside him, your hand brushing against his arm.

“What do you say we use our free period to get a head start on homework?” you suggested, your tone casual but your eyes sparkling with mischief. “The library’s quiet. Perfect for concentration.”

Sebastian narrowed his eyes at you, suspicious. “Concentration, huh?”

You tilted your head, looking up at him with faux innocence. “What else would we be doing?”

He exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. The library it is.”

Sebastian trailed after you, already regretting his decision to agree to this “study session.” He wasn’t walking to his doom—not exactly—but it certainly felt like you were leading him into a trap he’d willingly sprung. Every step you took ahead of him, your hips swaying just enough to catch his attention, felt deliberate, and his patience was wearing thin.

When you reached the secluded table in the back of the library, you slid into a seat with a satisfied smile, glancing up at him as if daring him to sit across from you. Of course, he did—because, Merlin help him, no part of him could resist you, even when you were driving him out of his mind.

“You’re awfully quiet,” you said, leaning forward to rest your chin in your hand, your voice laced with amusement. “Something on your mind?”

Sebastian opened his mouth to reply but quickly thought better of it, forcing himself to focus instead on pulling out his parchment and quill. He needed to get this essay done, fast—before you found another way to turn his brain to mush.

“Nothing,” he muttered, not looking up. “Let’s just work.”

You hummed in response, a light, teasing sound that sent a shiver down his spine. When he finally risked a glance at you, you were watching him with that knowing smirk, the one that said you knew exactly what you were doing to him—and you had no intention of stopping.

To your credit, the two of you did manage to work in relative silence for about an hour. It was a miracle, really, considering the way you had been tormenting him all day. The soft scratching of quills and the occasional flipping of pages filled the air, lulling Sebastian into a false sense of security. You even asked him a few legitimate questions about your arithmancy work, and he found himself easing into the rhythm of study.

But of course, it couldn’t last.

You tapped your quill against the edge of the table thoughtfully, drawing his attention as you tilted your head, a curious expression on your face. “Sebastian,” you said slowly, like you were turning something over in your mind.

He glanced up, cautiously optimistic that this might be a real question. “What?”

“If you cast Levioso on something heavy enough, do you think there’s a weight limit?”

Sebastian frowned, considering. “There’s a theoretical limit, I suppose. It depends on the skill of the caster and the strength of the enchantment. Why?”

You propped your chin in your hand as you gestured toward the sturdy oak table in front of you. “Can you cast it on objects to make them stronger, or is that a separate charm altogether?"

Sebastian blinked at you, trying to gauge where this was going. Your expression was innocent enough—curious, thoughtful—but he’d spent far too much time with you to let his guard down completely.

“That’s a separate charm,” he said slowly, leaning back in his chair. “Reinforcement charms can strengthen objects, but Levioso isn’t meant for that. It’s just levitation.”

You nodded thoughtfully, your fingers tapping lightly against the edge of the table. “Makes sense,” you mused. “I was just thinking… these tables have probably been here for decades, maybe centuries."

Sebastian frowned, unsure where your train of thought was leading. “I suppose so. Why?”

Your lips curved into a soft smile, and you tilted your head, your eyes sparkling with a mischief he recognized all too well. “Oh, no reason,” you said lightly, waving a hand. “I was just wondering how much weight they could handle. You know, hypothetically.”

The room seemed to still as your words hung in the air, and Sebastian felt his stomach drop. His quill froze mid-scratch, and he stared at you, his mind racing to keep up.

“Hypothetically,” he repeated, his voice flat, though his pulse was anything but.

"You know," You shrugged, leaning back in your chair with an air of nonchalance that was completely at odds with the gleam in your eyes. "Like the weight of two people."

Sebastian stared at you, half-convinced he was hallucinating. You were far too composed for someone who had just casually suggested something so completely inappropriate in the middle of the bloody library, yet here you were, twirling your quill like the picture of innocence. He wanted to say something clever, something sharp that would throw you off your game, but his mind was stuck on one thing.

Two people. This table.

Sebastian’s knuckles turned white as he gripped his quill, his patience dangling by a thread. He could feel the heat crawling up the back of his neck, and you noticed, of course. You always noticed. The way your eyes sparkled with mischief, that faint smirk tugging at your lips—you were daring him to lose control, and you both knew it.

But Sebastian was stubborn, if nothing else. He forced his gaze back down to his parchment, his quill scratching out nonsense as he tried to focus on anything other than the absurdly inappropriate image you’d planted in his head.

“Anyway,” you said lightly, your tone as innocent as ever, “I've had enough of arithmancy for the day. What was the essay prompt again for potions? Something about brewing methods?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “The efficacy of different brewing techniques for enhancing potion potency.”

“Right,” you said, nodding thoughtfully, a contemplative look crossing your face. “Hm… I think I know a book that covers this. It talks about how it’s all in the measurements. Every little thing has to be just right. You’ve got to be so careful with how deep you’re going in, or… well, the whole thing can become quite explosive."

Sebastian’s quill snapped in half.

He froze, staring down at the broken pieces in his hands as if they might somehow offer an escape from this torment. But when he looked up, your smirk was waiting for him, smug and triumphant.

“Oops,” you said sweetly, tilting your head. “Did I say something distracting?”

Sebastian gritted his teeth, his patience unraveling by the second. “You know exactly what you’re doing,” he growled, his voice low and tense.

“Do I?” you replied, feigning innocence. But the glint in your eye betrayed you. You leaned forward slightly, your voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Surely you'll get top marks on this essay... I think you know exactly how deep to go."

Sebastian stood abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor as he pushed it back. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and filled with a heat that made your smirk falter for the first time all day.

“Outside. Now,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

Your brows lifted in mock surprise, but the flicker of excitement in your expression didn’t escape him. You opened your mouth to say something—no doubt another teasing remark—but he wasn’t having it.

“Don’t,” he warned, cutting you off. “Just move.”

For once, you complied without argument, though the playful sway of your hips as you walked ahead of him made it clear you weren’t done yet.

Sebastian followed close behind as you weaved through the bookshelves, his chest tight with frustration and something far more dangerous. He didn’t know what he was going to do when he finally got you alone—but he knew he couldn’t take another second of this.

“You’ve been playing games all day,” he growled as you walked, his voice low and rough. “Do you think I didn’t notice? Do you think I’d just let it slide?”

You raised a brow. “I don’t know what you mean,” you said, tilting your head in mock confusion. “I’ve been perfectly well-behaved.”

Sebastian grabbed your wrist, his forehead nearly brushing yours as his hand came up to cup your jaw. “Well-behaved?” he echoed, his tone dripping with disbelief. “You’ve been driving me mad. Every look, every word, every touch—” He cut himself off, dragging a hand through his hair before pinning you with a glare. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you?”

His grip on your wrist tightened—not enough to hurt, but firm enough to leave no room for argument. Without another word, he turned sharply, dragging you through the corridors at a pace that made it clear his patience had completely run out.

You didn’t protest, your steps falling into sync with his as he led you toward the one place he knew you’d have privacy: the Undercroft.

When you finally reached the hidden entrance, Sebastian didn’t even bother with his usual careful precision. He muttered the incantation quickly, his voice rough with impatience, and the hidden door swung open. He tugged you inside, the heavy door slamming shut behind you with a resounding thud that echoed in the quiet, secluded space.

The silence hung for a moment, broken only by the sound of your unsteady breaths as Sebastian turned to face you. His gaze was dark, intense, and utterly consuming as he stepped closer, backing you up until your spine pressed against the cool stone wall.

“Do you think this is a joke?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous, every word dripping with frustration and something far more primal. His hand braced against the wall beside your head, effectively caging you in.

Your smirk returned. “I think you’re overreacting,” you replied, your tone light but laced with a hint of defiance. “All I did was—”

“All you did,” he interrupted sharply, his other hand gripping your chin gently but firmly, tilting your face up to meet his eyes, “was make me spend the entire day trying not to lose my fucking mind.”

You didn’t back down, even as his chest brushed yours. “I was just having fun."

“Fun?” Sebastian echoed, his lips curling into a humorless smile. “You think driving me mad was fun?”

You tilted your head, grinning. “I think you like it."

Sebastian’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, the tension between you seemed to reach its breaking point. His thumb brushed over your jaw, a deceptively soft gesture that made your breath hitch. “Maybe you're right,” he admitted, his voice gravelly. “But don’t think for a second that you’re off the hook. You’re going to pay for every second of torture you put me through today.”

Your smirk widened, and you leaned up to brush your lips against his, your voice a teasing whisper against his mouth. “Promise?”

Sebastian’s answering smile was dark and full of intent as he guided you toward the sofa. “Oh, you have no idea.”

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l1v1ngd3dgrrl · 3 days ago

Note

yo can u do coquette reader x daisuke pretty please

Daisuke x Coquette! Reader (SFW+NSFW)

an: hope I captured the aesthetic properly, I had to triple check that I was using the right definition.

I'm doing headcannons + mini drabbles, I hope that's ok with you anon <3

MDNI banner: cafekitsune

Cw(s): Use of the nicknames Baby/Princess/Babe/ my girl, praising (Daisuke giving!) , mild nsfw that isn't overly explicit, author is not entirely sure if they captured the coquette style properly.

SFW

How you met

First off, wow. He thinks you look like an angel.

He met you while at a thrift store. You were looking at some porcelain figures, a small rabbit with hand painted details catching your eye specifically.

The more he observed you, the more he wanted to get to know you better..but he didn't want to be a total creep about it.

He stops looking at the various shirts and makes his way over to the isle you're on, playing it cool and pretending to take interest in the various figures in front of him.

An angel with slightly chipped paint makes a light go off in his head.

"Hey uh-" he pauses and holds the angel figure in his hands and gestures it towards you. "I found your twin!' He's smiling nervously, hoping he doesn't come across as some weirdo. When you don't respond he's debating about just dropping everything and running away forever. Some pick up line, huh? When you finally crack a smile smile he relaxes. "Sorry that was cheesy. Uhm I'm Daisuke." He sets the figure down on the shelf. "Well Daisuke nice to meet you, I'm y/n." His mind blanks for a moment, unsure of what to say next. You break the silence by reaching over an picking the angel up and examining it, "So this is my twin huh?" He splutters a bit, fumbling words awkwardly agrees with you. Something along the lines of 'because you're pretty like one' finally leaving his mouth in a coherent way.

You bought the figure and exchanged contact info with him after talking a bit in the store, agreeing on an eventual date.

The first date

You two agreed to go on an official date after three months of talking, something he totally respected and was hyped about once the arrangement was made.

He wants to take you out somewhere nice, but not too up front. Something that he thinks you would enjoy doing is visiting an art exhibit and then eating dinner at this nice little bistro downtown.

When he meets you at the exhibit he's giddy with excitement, and in awe at your outfit. It was simple but still elegant.

During the art exhibit portion of the date he learns you have quite the eye for different French artists, rambling on about the meanings behind paintings and little hidden details that the untrained eye might have missed.

You have brains and beauty, what more can he ask for? (he's learned quite a bit that he never thought he would even be bothered to learn about before.)

Dinner is his treat, he's saved up money for this moment specifically.

During dinner both of you continue to talk, learning more about each other. He learns that you have always adored the 'vintage' hyper feminine style, and how it took you ages to accumulate a wardrobe full of various outfits. Thrifting being one of your common grounds made him so incredibly happy, he's 1000% taking you on a thrifting date if you let him.

(spoiler you do)

"Well, I had a lot of fun." you say as he walks you to your front door. "Thank you for dinner, I had no idea that Bistro was even there!" He chuckles and nods. "I had a lot of fun too! I've learned so much about you," he pauses carefully thinking about his words. "I would really like to take you out again sometime, I think you're a really awesome girl." Your lips curve into a smile and you press a peck on his cheek, a lipstick mark bold against his tan skin. "I'd really like that," you brush away a strand of hair from his face. "I think you're a really awesome guy." you mimic him. He practically melts then and there. "So it's settled, how does next Thursday sound?"

Dating

You two became 100% official after 3 more dates, and you two have been going steady for about 6 months now.

Nicknames he calls you include: a shortened version of your name (if possible that is), baby/babe, my girl. and he'll even whip out the mi amor if he's feeling really romantic.

(tries to) Spoil you with new additions to your wardrobe, or knicknacks. You're 1000% thankful of course, but you don't want him blowing all his money on you.

Your favorite date is when he takes you out downtown and the two of you just spend hours sightseeing and checking out different stores.

NSFW

Now, Daisuke's sex drive is pretty standard for a guy his age and he imagines yours is equally standard for a woman your age as well. He doesn't rush to get intimate with you, lets you call the shots when it comes to initiating. (but not in a submissive way, he's just trying to be a gentleman)

(Though it's not inherently sexual) the nickname princess comes out of his mouth the most in the bedroom, often praising you.

has bought you a couple of lacy bra and panty sets, but melts when you're in your 'grandma' nightgown. Just something about it drives him insane (y'all know that meme about the grandma nightgowns that 'kept her bills paid'? think of something like that.)

rolling back to him praising you, it's not the usual "oh you're taking it so good blah blah blah." WRONG he's telling you how beautiful you look, how angelic you sound, just how perfect you are and how he can't believe how lucky he is to have such a lovely girlfriend.

The headboard lightly thumps against the wall as you buck your hips against Daisuke's. He's below you, groaning and keeping those gorgeous brown eyes fixated on you. Your eyes are shut and lips parted as you moan as you bounce on him. "That's it princess, let it all out." he rumbles, a hand coming up and brushing against your cheek. "feeling good?" you nod and reposition slightly. He chuckles and lets it trail off into a moan. "I'm such a lucky guy to have such a perfect girl"

#18+ mdni #mouthwashing #daisuke x reader #daisuke mouthwashing

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labyrinthofsphinx · 1 day ago

Note

Hello hi, the artwork with Canon bois and Demon Drift has watered my crops and cheered me up. Happy new year! Love your art, stories and this whole blog <3 Hope you're doing good!

Anon asked: Congratulations Demon Drift you've been spontaneously adopted by the Radio demon and the Media Overlord! Loved this whole little arc btw! Au Alastor and Vox calling out their cannon selves on their bs and now they're actually talking again!!!! Let's gooooo Anyway, this was all lovely. Your murder partners comics are such a joy to read! <3 Can't wait to see what you've got cooking next!

First of all, thanks so much for all the love guys, omg. You are all the best <333 And since y'all wanna see more of them the offshoot, here's a little something:

Huh, no distortion on the video feed. Imagine that.

Thanks again for all the love everybody, and the asks! <3

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rivendell-poet · 3 days ago

Note

Quick ask

Do you think you could do a hobbit boys (Thorin, dawalin, and Fili mainly) with a short 4’8 human female reader who is often mistaken as a dwarf and they only realize when she can’t under stand the pet names or courting thing the boys do

Not so quick answer, I'm afraid. But of course! I've ended up not mentioning reader's height or gender in this I'm afraid, but height does end up being implied. Thanks so much for requesting anon - and I hope you enjoy it!

*･༓˚✧❝𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ��𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐟❞ ‧͙⁺˚༓˚✧ « headcanons »

○ Thorin ○ Fíli ○ Kíli ○ Dwalin ○ Bofur ○

GN!Reader | No TWs | Wordcount : 1.2k

𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧

✧ Thorin is a big believer in the old, traditional dwarven way of courting.

✧ (Not just because he’s too scared he doesn’t have the words to properly confess to you, and that he wouldn’t be able to take a rejection that way.)

✧ It starts very small, such a tentative gesture that - if it wasn’t Thorin - even the other dwarves might not realise it’s courting.

✧ You certainly don’t, as you smile up at him before thanking him. Wondering why he’s ducked away so quickly afterwards.

✧ (It’s to hide how red his face is becoming.)

✧ Then you don’t reciprocate, at all. But Thorin just thinks he wasn’t quite obvious enough.

✧ His next gesture is grander, although he presents it slightly more gruffly. Again you can see the care and love that’s gone into it, but you don’t just want to assume it’s romantic.

✧ Everything’s accepted. And then nothing happens. And still nothing happens.

✧ You notice Thorin becoming slightly more withdrawn and decide to complain to Bilbo, muttering about how confusion these dwarves can sometimes be.

✧ ‘These dwarves?’

✧ It’s then Thorin realises that, perhaps, you aren’t a dwarf at all.

✧ Finally, he decides to use his words. Coming up to you, and asking if you’d realise what he was doing.

✧ Both of your cheeks are hot as he explains his intentions to you, and you realise all the things you’ve missed.

✧ As his explanation comes to an end, and you explain you’d truly like to court him - he steps slightly closer.

✧ “I know that all people kiss.”

��𝐢𝐥𝐢

✧ He never thought he’d be one for traditional romance, the pain-staking time courting takes. To get all the details just perfect for the beloved he’d end up falling for.

✧ Fíli had always assumed he’d have a whirlwind romance, and the details wouldn’t matter.

✧ It was true, in a way; you could have done anything for him and he’d beam and blush as if you’d hung the stars for him.

✧ But Fíli is determined to make it perfect for you. Because you deserve nothing less.

✧ So he begins to ask some of the older dwarves on what to do, how to make sure it all goes well.

✧ Fíli‘s getting quite far along, gift almost made for you, when he decides maybe he should ask the hobbit as well.

✧ “You- you thought they were a dwarf?” The incredulous tone of Bilbo makes poor Fíli rethink quite a lot of choices. If he didn’t notice that is he good enough to love you?

✧ Taking pity on the lad, Bilbo offers him a smile. “But anyone, dwarf or not, can see the love you have for them. Do it anyway, you just- might have to explain some of the finer details.”

✧ It’s that advice Fíli ends up taking, asking if he can speak to you in private.

✧ He still does things the dwarven way, at the very start. Waiting until he’s finished - and you’re looking at him with a mixture of hope and confusion.

✧ Then he explains things the best he can, what each gestures means, why he chose each gesture. How specifically he’s decided to show his love for you.

✧ Because you’re absolutely worthy of confession twice.

𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐢

✧ The first to start showing his affections, of course. And he decides the best way to do it is semi-casually.

✧ After all, he can always say he was joking if you don’t reciprocate the feelings. Hope you didn’t notice how pink his cheeks were, along with his smile and the shine in his eyes when he looked at you.

✧ “How are you, amrâl?”

✧ Does it get him some stares from the other dwarves? Yes. Is it worth it when you look at him and then quietly respond? He’s certain it is.

✧ Slowly he gets bolder. Jokingly calling you his betrothed, his star, his sun and moon. Each time you seem slightly less surprised, and slightly more comfortable.

✧ Eventually, he decides that he doesn’t just want to joke around. He wants to properly ask you, to be able to properly court you.

✧ “Amrâl astî.”

✧ There’s a moment where he looks in your face for recognition, and then sees blankness.

✧ Something must be obvious in his expression, because you suddenly seems to understand. And then, almost shyly, ask if he’s just confessed.

✧ It’s then that Kíli suddenly realises you’ve never talked back to him in Khuzdul. That, in some respects, you never quite seemed dwarven.

✧ With you still looking at him, he tries again. The confession is longer this time, if slightly quieter - with a few times he’s not as confident - but there’s still just as much love in it.

✧ Once Kíli finally begins to court you, he also begins to teach you what all his nicknames mean.

𝐃𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧

✧ Like Thorin, he’s much more comfortable in sticking with the dwarven traditions as well.

✧ To be able to confess how much you mean to him without having to put it truly into words. To share something intimate, instead of court with a grand, romantic gesture.

✧ Still, Dwalin spends a lot of time perfecting everything. Making sure that this confession will be right for you, right for him. Right for (what he hopes) can become the two of you, together.

✧ Dwalin doesn’t have a lot of small gestures, but rather one bigger one.

✧ One where - even though you’re not a dwarf - you can so easily feel the love through. His devotion is evident in every part, the love he has for you obvious.

✧ You’re silent until he finishes, and then you ask, “This is the confession I’d been hoping for, right?”

✧ There’s some confusion but he confirms it is instantly. And you meet him in an embrace, a gentle kiss.

✧ He’s incredibly soft with you - but there’s still hints of Dwalin as your lips connect. As he smiles when the two of you pull away.

𝐁𝐨𝐟𝐮𝐫

✧ When he first gives you a carving, he doesn’t expect you to see a grand romantic gesture in it - because it isn’t to him, but more of a subtle way. The polite way of informing you ‘my heart might be beating for you, I hope you don’t mind’

✧ Yet it isn’t as grandiose as so many stories he’s heard. And it isn’t a proper courtship gesture. So he doesn’t expect too much.

✧ But, when he places the carving in your hands, you’re in awe. So thankful. So enamoured by the object he’s left a blushing mess.

✧ As you give him a hug he wonders how you can’t feel his heart, hammering away.

✧ Emboldened by this he tries again, putting more effort in this time. And again you seem to appreciate it like no-one has before.

✧ But you still don’t initiate anything romantic.

✧ Perhaps you want to take it slow? So Bofur waits two, three more carvings before deciding to talk to you.

✧ “I… know you haven’t seen my courting gifts as exactly what you wanted. How- how do you want me to say I love you?”

✧ The way your eyes go wide clue him into the fact, perhaps, you didn’t know originally.

✧ Repeating his words back to him, you can feel your mortification as you explain you didn’t know they were courting gifts. How you’d gladly accept them.

✧ That you’d be honoured to court him.

A/N : As you can see by the vagueness, I definitely have a great grasp on dwarven courting techniques. (and would welcome anyone who'd be willing to explain them to me <3)

« masterlist » thank you for reading *･༓˚✧ Taglist : @celestialhole / @starwars2222 / @withasideofmeg / @nilintakan / @wordbunch ✧ wish to be tagged?

✧ @killermarionette / @bespectacledhuman / @howling-medic / @deannie13 / @paigemackenzie0206

✧ @recordofragnarokfan2 / @themuseinthewoods / @satans-bitch / @ferns-fics / @northernwing

#the hobbit x reader #the hobbit x you #thorin's company x reader #thorin's company x you #thorin x reader #fili x reader #kili x reader #dwalin x reader #bofur x reader

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znivlho · 18 hours ago

Text

Out of jealousy.

pairing : storm shadow x male reader

genre: smut to fluff

cw: NSFW 18+, rough sex, anal, oral, rimming, riding, blowjob, creampie

anon's request :

i wish to request please! I've been good crazy for Storm Shadow since the first G.I Joe movie and i quiet have this thought in my mind(i think it'll be quiet long, I'm sorry) so the Reader is one of student in Arashikage clan (most likely like Snake Eyes) him and Storm Shadow had a great relationship, they trained together, studied together, hang out together. The reader was a place for him to come back whenever he get upset or his jealousy toward Snake Eyes flaring.

Storm shadow developed liking for the reader while reader remain think of it as friendship(well, they were a children back then). So when the Hard Master died and Storm Shadow left, he felt betrayed, angry, in pain both from the grief for Hard Master and abandonment by Storm Shadow. But different from other, the reader don't believe the accusation that was thrown to his 'friend'.

Back to current time, the reunion of this two happened, and of course it's full of fight with Reader end up getting kidnapped by Storm Shadow. Other hostages was put in cells while reader was put in his private quarters by request of Storm Shadow himself because the liking he developed in his childhood seem turn to something more (cough obsession cough). So yeah, the confrontation happened and something snapped in him and Storm Shadow end up fucking him hard and rough. I thinking Storm Shadow the type that will leave mark in every spot and places on reader, outside and inside.

This is my request, I'm sorry if it's so long but i appreciate it a lot if you write it 🙏🏻🥲

i love this request so much that i had so many ideas on how to write it, thank you so so much anon, please accept this emoji ⭐️ as a gift and please use it if youll request again🙏

NSFW 18+, read at your own risk.

you suddenly woke up, blinking your eyes open as you stare at the ceiling with a dim light open. where are the others? why are you even laying down on a bed while the others fight? is it over?

many thoughts lingered to your mind as you looked around the room, but then you saw a familiar figure beside you, staring at you with those fierce eyes of his. those eyes who you missed to look at every single day since you were kids.

"storm..?"

you called out, seeing your childhood friend who wore an white shirt along with a short sitting on the floor beside you, but you can feel his eyes stare at your soul. you were frozen on the spot, he was now infront of you, the man who you waited in your whole entire life since he left.

"w-where have you been?? youre all grown up.."

you sat up as you asked worriedly about him, seeing him after many decades that you though he was dead. the last words turned into a whisper as you slowly reached your hand to his cheek.

"why did you left..?"

you spoke up, you have many questions in mind about him. but he kept quiet, suspiciously quiet while staring at you with those eyes of his that you cant explain what is it express.

"why are you with snake eyes?"

he finally spoke up, but not the question you expect. you cant explain to him, how you were with the man he hated so much since he show up just for him to be replaced and the hard master left him out like he never existed.

you were also caught by snake eyes. the more the latter has been hanging out with you the more you and storm became distant.

"i.."

you slowly pulled your hand away from his cheek, but he suddenly and swiftly pulled you closer to him that your faces almost touched.

"why?"

his grip around your wrist tighten, his eyes were fiercely staring straight into your soul. he wasnt like this before, he changed a lot.

you looked away, trying to look away from that stare that you thought it would gouge your eyes out if you kept looking at him.

well, thats a wrong move for you to make.

his hand went up to your chin as he agressively pulled you closer, his lips connected to yours hungrily that he craved it for a very long time. his hand pushed you down to the bed on your back agressively, pouring out all of his anger that he take up back then.

his tongue went straight into your mouth, exploring each corner and crevice he can feel inside. biting your bottom lips hardly until it bleeds, making you whine in pain. his teeth captured your tongue, biting it hard enough that it left a mark that was gushing out blood.

you were in pain but it felt too good. you cant understand why you cant stop what he was doing to you even though it hurts that you gave in. the more he kissed you hungrily and agressively, the more you got used to it and the more you became more desperate.

his hands roam around your body, ripping the fabric that was on his way to your skin. the both of his hands felt your body for the first time in many decades he wished he would touch, roaming around like it was looking for something.

your body was fit to his own hands, muscular yet so tiny beneath him. holding your waist with both of his massive hands make him feel so satisfied, he cant choose which part of your body was his favorite but instead he would pick all of it.

he leaned away but then he started attacking your neck like his life was depending on it, so desperate he had to mark every inch he touches with bite marks and hickeys. most bites were hard and deep that he made it slightly bleed on purpose, sucking it after till it was swollen then move to a next skin he would find. he wouldnt leave an inch without his mark and he didnt care if people sees it, he wants everyone to know.

meanwhile, you were a mess below him. whimpering and moaning at every action he made that made you feel pleasure, sweat dripping down along with strands of hair curled around your forehead. you never thought that you needed this, that it was that thing that made you feel pleasure for the first time.

he leaned away as he looked at you full with swollen marks and hickeys around your neck down to your collarbone and ended to your chest, your hair all messed up to the pillow as you look at him with those desperate eyes of yours made him turn on so much.

but he still not satisfied with the marks he made, and he would love to put more around your skin.

he leaned down to your chest, playing with your nipples that are desperate for touch, he sucked on it like a newborn who seeks for their mother's milk.

it was the sensitive part of your body, your voice betrays you as you let out questionable moans. even though he cant see your full face, he was satisfied with those sounds that went through his ear like music.

he bit down both of your nipples, making it both have the same mark as it pops up swollen up from his sucking. he went down to your lower torso, your fine toned body was perfect to him he cant stop marking at it.

he then suddenly leaned into your head again as he lifted you up, making you lie down on your stomach while his hard breathing was loud next to your ear.

"mh.. ive been waited for so long.. look what you did to me.."

he huskily whispered to your ear as he leaned his hips to your ass, making you feel how he was hard beneath the cloth he was wearing.

just by feeling it make you jolt by how long it was, how you felt it twitching in the fabric as it touches you.

"seeing you with snake eyes makes me dissapointed, and angry.."

he continued whispering while his hands do the job to pull away the pants youre wearing, his lips biting your ear till it was swollen.

"do you like that bastard?"

he asked as he gripped down tightly on your hair, making you throw back your head just for him to see.

you didnt answer, you cant even for a single word. you can sense he was mad angry inside unlike the emotions he was showing.

he scoffed after not hearing any response from you as you felt a tip aligned to your aching hole.

without any warning, he shoved inside his throbbing cock to you without any lube, any preperation, just straight filling your insides up.

you screamed at the sudden movement, the pain aching around you especially inside. he didnt even move yet but his tip was hitting your prostate.

he whispered to your ear once more as he started thrusting into you hardly and aggressively, hitting your spot every thrust as you felt your insides will tear apart when this continues.

"ill ask that later."

you cant hide your moans, it was getting loud from time to time and he really liked it. seeing you a mess down below him makes him satisfied.

he picked up his pace as you were reaching your climax, his hand held your throbbing cock, teasing its tip as he suddenly matched the pace betwwen his thrusts and his hand going up and down to your throbbing cock.

you cried out a moan as you came, him following not a long after. you catched your breath for a while, but he suddenly flipped ypu together so that hes below you.

he pushes you up to sit while his cock still inside you, making you whimper by the movement as his cum drips down from your aching hole.

"that was just a warmup, (name)."

he whispered to your ear as his hands gripped down to your hips as he raised you up from his cock, then suddenly slammed you down.

earning a loud moan from you, he then continues the agressive and hard pace for a long time..

not only did he cum twice, for 6 rounds he took you in.

{bonus}

after taking care of you, let you wore his fresh clothes, changed the sheets, let you drank water, he crawled in the bed to you as his head rested on your lap.

your hands quickly move to his cheek as you caressed it, moving away his hair that was blocking his face as you leaned on the headboard.

"you know, i-" "we'll talk about that tomorrow."

you cut him out as your eyes were closed as you continued to caress his cheek, only for him to fall asleep quickly.

#lee byung hun #x male reader #storm shadow #gi joe #zho writes

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doodle-pops · 1 day ago

Text

Just A Hug…And One Kiss

Námo x reader

Request: Hello! Could you please write a fic with Namo? Something sweet and fluffy, maybe reader drags him from work to a date night, with a romantic dinner and cuddles afterwards? Our lovely judge needs some love and affection. Thank you and have a beautiful day!

A/N: Thank you the request so I can write more Námo content, anon!

Warnings: none, fluff

Words: 1.5k

Synopsis: You convinced your overworking husband to let go for one evening and relax.

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You found yourself standing in the grand chamber where he often spent long hours contemplating and recording the fates of the dead. The space was vast and imposing, its stone walls carved with intricate patterns that glowed faintly with an otherworldly light. There, Námo sat at a large stone table, his dark hair flowing over his shoulders as he pored over yet another decision. His piercing green eyes were fixed on a glowing scroll before him, his sharp features illuminated by its soft light. He looked every bit the formidable Judge of the Dead, but to you, he was simply Námo—the one who had captured your heart.

“You’re working late again,” you said softly, breaking the heavy silence.

Námo’s head lifted slightly, his eyes meeting yours. He did not sigh, nor did he frown, but you could see the faintest flicker of weariness in his gaze. “There is much to be done,” he replied in his deep, measured voice. “It cannot wait.”

You stepped closer, the hem of your robes brushing against the smooth stone floor. “It can wait for one evening,” you insisted gently, placing a hand on the edge of the table. “You’ve been at this for days without pause. You need a break.”

Elegantly, he raised a brow, his lips pressing into a thin line. “The souls entrusted to me do not rest, nor do they delay in arriving. My duty is to—”

“Your duty,” you interrupted, though your tone was soft and teasing, “will be there tomorrow. Tonight, however, your duty is to me.”

His expression shifted slightly, the faintest hint of amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, reaching out to grasp his shoulders and massage his tense muscles. You felt him stiffened slightly before relaxing under your touch as your fingers worked. “You work harder than anyone I know, but even the Judge of the Dead deserves an evening to himself now and then. Let me take care of you for a change.”

“I have responsibilities—”

“And I have plans,” you interrupted with a firm tone yet affectionate. “Plans that involve you, my dear husband, stepping away from all of this,”—you gestured at the desk piled high with documents—“and spending an evening with me.”

There was the barest hint of a smile threatening to break through his stoicism. “And what, may I ask, do these plans entail?”

You leaned down, placing your chin on his shoulders, and slid your hands down his arms. “Dinner,” you said softly, “a proper one. Followed by a quiet night together. No scrolls. No souls. Just us.”

For a moment, he said nothing, simply studying you with those piercing eyes of his. You could see the conflict there, the instinct to protest warring with the desire to give in to your request. Finally, he sighed—a sound that was more resigned than exasperated. “You’re persuasive.”

You grinned, straightening and holding out your hand to him. “Only because I love you. Now, come on. Don’t make me drag you out of this chair.”

With a quiet chuckle, Námo took your hand and allowed you to pull him to his feet. His tall, imposing frame towered over you, but the way he gazed at you—gentle, almost reverent—made you feel as though you held all the power in the world.

The dining room you had prepared was far removed from the austere grandeur of Mandos. It was warm and inviting, lit by the gentle glow of candles placed in elegant holders. A table stood in the centre of the room, adorned with a simple yet charming arrangement of flowers and a delicious spread of food that you had painstakingly prepared. The scents of roasted vegetables, freshly baked bread, and spiced wine filled the air, creating an atmosphere of comfort and intimacy.

Námo followed you into the room, his sharp features softening as he took in the sight. “You did all this for me?” he asked quietly with a touched of genuine surprise.

“Of course,” you replied, smiling as you guided him to a seat. “You deserve it.”

“I can’t imagine you cooking all this yourself,” he teased.

“Excuse me,” you retorted, feigning offence and lifting a hand to your chest. “I’ll have you know I spent hours on this. Blood, sweat, and tears, my love. Blood, sweat, and tears.”

“Is that so?” he replied, one dark brow arching. “I suppose I should commend your effort, then.”

“You should,” you said, nodding emphatically. “And if you’re not careful, I might make you do the dishes.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, and you could have sworn you saw the ghost of a smile. “I shudder to think of such punishment. The Great Doomsman washing dishes,” he humorous muttered. “How poetic. If my brother ever catches a whiff of me washing dishes, I will never know peace.”

He sat down, his movements as fluid and precise as ever, but you noticed the way his posture relaxed slightly as he settled into the chair. You took the seat opposite him, pouring wine into his goblet before filling your own. The two of you clinked glasses, the sound ringing softly through the room.

As the meal began, Námo allowed himself to enjoy the food, his usual restraint giving way to a more relaxed demeanour. You chatted easily, steering the conversation away from his work and instead focusing on lighter topics—the beauty of the stars that evening, a memory from your shared past, a funny story you had heard earlier in the week. And he listened intently, his lips curving into a faint smile at your words.

At one point, when you reached across the table to brush a crumb from his cheek, he caught your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to your fingertips. The simple gesture sent a shiver of warmth through you, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“You spoil me,” he said with a tinged of rare vulnerability.

“Someone has to,” you teased. “And I’ll do it as often as I can.”

“I had forgotten how pleasant it is to simply...be,” he admitted after a while, his voice thoughtful. “To enjoy a meal without the weight of responsibility pressing down.”

“That’s why I wanted to do this for you,” you said softly. “You give so much of yourself to others, Námo. It’s only fair that someone gives back to you.”

His fingers instinctively tightened around yours, his touch warmer now after the meal. He looked at you with a desire that made your breath catch, his viridian eyes filled with a depth of emotion he rarely showed. “You are a gift,” he said quietly, his words carrying a weight that made your heart swell. “One I do not deserve, but one I am endlessly grateful for.”

You felt a heat rise to your cheeks, but before you could respond, Námo rose from his seat, holding out his hand to you. “Come,” he said. “Let us leave this table behind and simply enjoy each other’s company.”

As he led you out the dining room, you two of you ended up in a smaller sitting room, where a plush sofa and a warm hearth awaited. He sat down first, his long, dark robes flowing around him as he leaned back against the cushions. You joined him, curling up at his side as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

The fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the walls. The warmth of the flames and the steady rise and fall of Námo’s chest beneath your hand created a cocoon of comfort and peace. For a while, neither of you spoke, content to simply exist in each other’s presence.

“I cannot remember the last time I felt so at ease,” he admitted eventually. His fingers traced idle patterns on your arm, his touch light and soothing. “You have a way of quieting even the most restless parts of my spirit.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “That’s what love does,” you replied. “It makes even the heaviest burdens feel lighter.”

He was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the fire. Then he turned to you with an expression uncharacteristically open and vulnerable. “You remind me of the light before the first music,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Pure, untainted, and full of endless possibilities. When I’m with you, it feels as though I am standing in that light once more.”

“You and your rare, sweet words,” you chuckled as you reached up to run your finger along his jawline. “What would I do without them.”

His lips curved into a small, affectionate smile as he leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours. In response, you tilted your head up, your lips brushing his in a kiss that was soft and tender. There was a fleeting moment when you sensed the final weight on his shoulders dissipating.

When you pulled back, his eyes were closed, casting a serene expression. “It seems I have received far more than I deserve tonight.”

You laughed softly, resting your head against his shoulder. “You deserve everything,” you said firmly. “And I’ll spend every day reminding you of that if I have to.”

“You have humbled me, my love,” he whispered. “I do not know what I did to deserve you, but I will spend every moment I have trying to be worthy of you.”

“You already are,” you reassured. “And you always will be.”

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @sakurayaxd @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind @addaigio @lamemaster @feanorynz @6esi @will-0-wsps

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#namo fluff #namo x reader #namo imagine #namo scenario #namo x you #namo x y/n #namo mandos #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion imagine #silmarillion fic #silmarillion fluff #middle earth x reader #middle earth imagine #middle earth fluff #middle earth fic #x reader insert #x reader fluff #silmarillion #doodlepops writings ✨

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funnier-as-a-system · 18 hours ago

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Hey, um... This ain't exactly.. An easy thing to say but, uh..

.._I SCARED OFF MY HEADMATES._

I JUST REFERRED TO THEM AS "THE VOICES" BECAUSE. WELL. I DIDN'T KNOW SHIT ABOUT THIS STUFF THEN!! AND ALWAYS DISREGARDED THEM WHENEVER THEY SPOKE [THEY ARGUES A WHOLE LOT. LITERALLY COULDN'T DO ANY WORK FROM THE SOUNDS OF 0NI, D AND COMPLEXITY ARGUING ALL THE TIME-]

Ok.. Calm calm.....

So. I never ever listened to them and sometimes also arguing with them tried my best to ignore them.. Yelling "SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP" repeatedly usually got them to... Well, _shut up._

But just. We had another argument together. After _STARSCREAM_[don't even ask me how she got in here I don't fucking know] decided to act all mighty and shit another yelling match started that I just.. Couldn't take it anymore.. I had some.. Uhm, "quite the words" to say the least. They silenced for the day after that..

And then the next morning they just.. Weren't there when I woke up. At first I was, well, glad! It was finally quite for once! I could do things that normal people did! But uh.. After the second day it was far too quiet for my liking.. And.. It's been a month now. It's still too quiet.. Starscream[why HIM instead of others I have no idea] came back for 20 minutes a week ago.. I was glad to have at least SOMEONE back but she went away again..

I learned about this whole "system" stuff thanks to a follower saying "oh this is such a funny post as a system!" on a reblog I've done. --Which led me here. I've been... _Learning_ the past few days.. And. Well. Things really do fit me well and.. I'm not sure if I hate that or not...

I.. The reason for this _ask_ is because.. I wanted to know if others had this.. Well, "_experience_" too? Like.. I.. I miss them, alright? It suddenly went from 7 to 1 in here and it's far too quiete!!! I just.. I wanted to know if there was possibly a way to bring them back..?

I understand if this isn't the way to go for this typa stuff but... I.. I really don't know _where else_ there is.

Welp. Thanks for.. Having this account and all I suppose. Were a real help in things and, the posts are quite funny as well..! [Sigh..]

- @blog-bites-eats-u-violently

Hey, there. It sounds like you've been having a rough time lately. You have my sympathies for that. I won't give too much advice on this situation you're in – I don't feel equipped to do that – but you're not alone in this experience, anon. We went through a very similar situation a few years back, actually.

At the time, we'd just recently made our then-host (as in, the headmate who was our host at the time) aware that they had others in their head, that they were part of a system. We had... a rough few months after that, filled with fear and doubt. And at one point, our then-host became overwhelmed, and ended up driving away the headmates who were talking to them.

The silence lasted for about two days before another headmate of ours stepped up to talk to our then-host, helping them work through their issues and reconnect with those they'd run off. From what they can remember of the event, it was mostly a matter of mentally "reaching out" – consciously trying to connect to the ones they'd driven off so they could apologize. None of us are sure how it worked – best we've got is that we've always visualized our communication difficulties as walls that we have to get our internal communication/messages past – but it did, and we're all chill now on that front.

So, yes, others have had this experience before, and your headmates will likely come back to talk to you again. I can't promise anything, but if my-our story is anything to go off of, even situations like this can be recoverable. It just may take a while for all the hurt to be worked out.

#thanks for the ask!#caps lock

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girl-lostconnection · 19 hours ago

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YOU ARE MAGIC LOVE NEVER FORGET THAT 🥹🥹🥹 WTFFF that was actually so soft and I’m crying salty tears heeeelpp!! that was amazing !! gonna make a little something in return for you 😚:

i used second person — might be strange?

he comes back from his first deployment — where he was unluckily shot in the thigh — and by some miracle, he manages enough strength to wobble off that bus as you stand on the sidewalk. he’s got crutches and for some reason no one’s helping him with his duffel bag and that sight alone is soul-crushing. you rush to him, angry and confused, grabbing his bag and forcing him to sit on the curb.

“simon riley! what the hell happened to you?” he has never seen you this angry, but the way you’ve got your hands on your hips is causing some tightness in his jeans. he wishes you were this type of spitfire back then.

“got shot, luv, won’t ‘appen again,” he chuckles roughly, as if you’d just asked him the weather.

“simon edward (i hc this as his middle name cause it’s so funny sorry) riley. you’ve just told me you’ve been shot and im not meant to worry six ways to sunday?!” you’re appalled, aghast even. “i let you go off for six months, maybe! and you’ve gotten yourself into a mess. bloody christ!” you speak as if you’re allowing him to breathe, and as if everything he does, he does in your name — and god, why does he love it? “nonsense.” and the whole way home — because you are his home, no matter the place — you’re grumbling about how he’s going to cripple himself before he’s 35 and he’s just snickering.

because regardless of his injuries, and his countless therapy (physical or otherwise) appointments that you’ll drive him to, you will always be proud to call him your soldier.

and your third book begins with:

“to my soldier. stay home and read more books, please. you can’t leave me here.”

Anon, I’m gonna cry that’s so cute. Thank you so much for writing this!!

Also it’s all right, I got your second message, I’m gonna tag this one as one of your asks.

But also…anon, I’m giving you a big smooch on your bright beautiful head — this is beyond sweet🥹 Your writing is great and it makes me feel so warm and soft, I can’tttttt

And I love how your Reader just keeps popping out books (our productive queen) and giving hell to this big man when he doesn’t take proper care of himself because how dare he get shot (I know right???).

The way Simon is like “won’t be happening again” CAN YOU GUARANTEE THAT BIG MAN, I love that part, you cooked there some very good very canonical Simon Riley

And no one helping Simon with his duffel bag? Anon, stopppp, the way Reader would snatch the thing off his shoulder — he’d be unsure whether or not it was there in the first place at all. And I love that that’s exactly the vibes I was going for in their timeskip because he’s simply home whenever he’s with Reader.

They are his home. He comes back to them and suddenly everything is lighter and better and he smiles more and he’s happier version of himself (my baby🥹)

#call of duty #cod mw2 #girl.asks #anon strawberry #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #ghost x reader #unsweetened lemonade

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delulustateofmind · 2 days ago

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hello, I'm currently going insane over the last part of "can my friend join". And i read your replies to asks related to that. And I'm going to ask something so crazy but I think it'd be soooo interesting, and something to ponder abt (for me at least)

Tw. Narcotics?

Say the reader gets their hands on edibles or something. Maybe weed to smoke or as brownies (because we know Suguru smokes/at least carries lighters. Maybe for this hypothetical scenario, let's assume he has it and that's how she got it). One of the effects can be that it makes you laugh uncontrollably about things that aren't THAT funny. And in general puts one in better mood.

Let's say satosugu see reader laughing her heart out at something random n silly and find out it's because she accidentally somehow consumed an edible.

(For the sake of this scenario, again, let's assume that the depression meds or some medical complications after so many pregnancies lead to reader being rendered infertile. So no question about any baby being harmed. )

In that case... how do they feel? Do they want her bubbly-ness back? Or are they now indifferent? Or do they hate her smiles and the sound of her laughter?

Will Suguru try to forcefully take away the edibles, (after a few times) if satoru is against the idea, coz satoru likes how you seem to have a bit of personality outside of being a cardboard cutout of the person you used to be? Will SATORU too put his foot down on letting you choose if or not you want to have access to these?

I am sorry in case i inadvertently offended you with this ask. I genuinely found it hilarious, imagining their confusion at first. It would be interesting to read about a scene where satoru and Suguru maybe cannot come to an agreement about a situation. And both are stubborn/ want control.

I understand if you won't want to answer this one, and i apologise in case you don't like stuff like this. I genuinely do not mean to make you uncomfortable.

Thank you for reading!

Anon, baby, it takes a whole lot to offend me. You're so freaking sweet, mwah.

TW: Narcotics, unedited, implied dubcon/noncon

I think I hinted at this in one of the previous asks, but yes, they definitely use narcotics. It’s kind of like a date night situation, because normally, you’re so numb. But when you’re high on that sweet little pill they give you? Oh my, you’re back to being the sweetest little thing.

Sure, you might be a little spaced out, and sure, you might not fully understand what’s going on. But Satoru loves the giggly mess you become. You let him hold you, nuzzle into you, and for once, you don’t resist. The sex is incredible for them because you actually seem like you’re enjoying it. You’re softer, more pliable, and sometimes, you even blurt out that you love them during it.

Those moments—hearing you say “I love you”—fuel both Satoru and Suguru’s belief that there’s still an ounce of the old you left inside. As much as they’d want to keep you drugged and loveable forever, Suguru worries about the long-term effects on your brain. So, he insists on keeping it as a weekly date night ritual.

On those nights, they send the kids out of the estate and have an absolute field day with you, indulging in every ounce of affection and compliance you offer under the influence of their little solution.

#tw: Narcotics #snail yaps #“This is love” asks #anon smoochies #i think im finally caught up in asks??

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azen13 · 2 days ago

Note

Same anon who asked for the yan!wrio hcs. I wanted to thank you for it! I loved it. And you’re absolurely right! I think you hit the nail on the head regarding how he will act as a yandere. I loved it so much I might as well ask for another fic, hehe 🤭

I wanted to ask if you take requests that include reader with x or y traits. If yes, I wanted to ask for this specific scenario: (if you dont mind, I’ve asked other genshin yandere writers to write this as well and I’m asking you too because I’m really curious on how you’d write this!) Yan!Wriothesley with an oblivious reader. Basically everyone knows wriothesley is infatuated with her, including the guards and inmates, and everyone knows he’s killed for her, except she herself. I wanted to see what you think Yan!Wriothesley would do if he was met with such a reader. It can be a HC or a fic, anything you’re comfortable with!

Thank you for your timee💕

Pensato

A/N: Hello again anon! Thank you so much for this ask. I love Yandere!Wriothesley and Wriothesley in general, so writing for him is such a treat. I think I may have gone a little bit off-track but I hope this will suffice! Thank you again for your ask!

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

CW: Yandere Themes, Murder

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Though the weather was far from fair, this was certainly the most beautiful day Wriothesley had spent on the surface for a multitude of reasons. Rain pattered against stone in a wonderful little waltz, providing a soothing ambiance to the day’s activity–you had invited him on the surface to go shopping in Rue d’Arpont, an enchanting street in the Court of Fontaine full of little boutiques and bistros.

Being that Wriothesley lived in Meropide and didn’t deal with the fickle Fontainian weather on a regular basis, he didn’t have an umbrella, providing him with a convenient excuse to loop an arm around your shoulder and keep you slotted against his side. It was a certainty that by that evening, at least three tabloids would be printed regarding the mysterious Duke of Meropide’s unexpected relationship with one of Fontaine’s premier pianists. Neither you nor he seemed to mind the thought of that much–though, Wriothesley knew you had hardly thought of that happening when you happily offered to shelter him beneath your umbrella. You simply wanted to help a friend, and Wriothesly had taken the opportunity to mark you as property of Meropide in the process.

“I’m glad you invited me to join you.” Wriothesley’s voice broke through the quiet precipitation, the sound of every droplet of water bending to accompany the melody of his words. In the distance, murmurs lent another texture to the quiet building symphony. Just as Wriothesley took a breath, thunder called in the distance and lightning responded, smashing apart the tender composition. A line of electricity arced across the sky, fingers curling down from the clouds to try to grip Fontaine in its gnarled hand.

This wouldn’t do. With so little time together, Wriothesley longed to keep your attention firmly focused on him. Neither weather nor your naive whims would disrupt the tempo of life he had set for you, now and forever. “Seems like it’s getting really bad.” Wriothesley’s arm dropped from your shoulder, sliding down your side to grasp your waist. By the way your head turned back to him–eyes widening with such innocent surprise and your cheeks ripening to a gentle, flushed pink–he had your attention again, a fact that made his heart flourish. “Maybe we should find some place to get lunch? My treat.” His free hand pointed towards a small restaurant with what appeared to be a greenhouse by its side. Through the drenched window panes, rows of trellises full of little cream-colored flowers seemed to cover the walls. It almost seemed like something only a dendro vision holder could create, so ethereal and elegant.

A bashful smile shone across your face, as soft as the sun’s first kiss of light at dawn. “That’s very kind of you, Monsieur Wriothesley, but-”

“Ah-ah-ah, no ‘but’s. I insist.” Though your voice was as enchanting as a siren’s song, Wriothesley knew better than to indulge in your innocence. Your virtues became vices with how sharp they were, and Wriothesley knew that if he didn’t exploit them, someone with much more wicked schemes would. “Consider it a congratulations for your performance in Meropide.” As he steered you over to the entrance of the bistro, his mind meandered down streams of memories, tracing back to the roots of this desire to protect you.

A letter. One wedged between manila folders stuffed with forms and transcripts that was brought to his desk as part of his daily work. About two hours after beginning paperwork, his hand weary and barely grasping his pen–his preferred weapon of choice when battling the bureaucratic beasts the Maison Gestion conjured–he found his fingers lifting up a letter that was blissfully light. Upon opening it up though, he quickly realized he was in for a different sort of battle: every word on the page was written in cursive and wild and wispy as wind and waves, to the point where it was almost indecipherable. Fifteen minutes passed by as Wriothesley tried to decipher exactly what each letter meant. Eventually, he understood the message: a famous Fontainian pianist was requesting permission to come to Meropide to perform for the prisoners.

That was the seed that you had planted in his mind. The people of Fontaine held such revulsion for Meropide and its inhabitants, it seemed startling that someone–much less a figure as cultured as a musician–would want to come to Meropide on their own free will.

But you did.

He wrote back, not accepting your request just yet, but feigning suspicion. Further details would be required before he could approve of such an event, including the answers to several questions. Among them, a simple, unadorned “Why?”.

Your response came quick, written in the same mesmerizing slanted script. The way you wrote was conversational, as though you were simply talking to a well-known friend and not an imposing, powerful stranger like Wriothesley. The answers to Wriothesley’s more logistical questions were thorough and cooperative, though he could hardly care. He was willing to handle everything, from the moving of the piano to the security of the concert. If anything, your answers only confounded him more and more. Trust seemed to bloom from every sentence, the very paper reeking of benevolence. Since he had been a child, Wriothesley had never allowed such flowers to grow in the garden of his heart; instead, they withered into ash, leaving his body barren of such tenderness.

A warmth pooled in his chest, trickling steadily into each of his limbs. Briefly, Wriothesley wondered if this is what it would feel like to drink Sinthe.

His next letter was simple: a time, date, and place.

You arrived in Meropide minutes before his letter requested you come, not that Wriothesley minded. Preparations had been made well in advance so the day would proceed smoothly, and Wriothesley had spent many sleepless nights pouring over the list of procedures to make sure you wouldn’t have a bad time in Meropide. Wriothesley escorted you to his office, made you a cup of tea, and offered you a pastry before you went out to perform. While you sat, he noticed in your lap was a small burlap sack that one might use as a Mora pouch.

“You don’t need to tip me for letting you perform here, you know.” He elected to frame his question as a joke, adding in a teasing smile to make the picture he painted look more convincing.

Despite your career in the arts, you seemed to be no actor by the way that you squirmed in your seat. “A-aha, I was…shopping earlier.” As you spoke, your eyes seemed to ricochet in their sockets as they glanced at every corner of his office.

Wriothesley was ready to press further. By this point, he had ruminated on your letter for far too long, as though examining every stroke of every letter to glean some new facet to your intentions. The few minutes he had spent talking to you only confirmed many of his thoughts, reinforcing the budding desire to shield you from any potential criminals that could have done you harm. Even though he had a question ready on his lips, he decided to stay quiet. He planned to keep a close eye on you as you stayed in Meropide, so any suspicious behavior would be easy to observe. Plus, he trusted you. Not fully, but the seed you had planted in Wriothesley’s heart had taken root and sprouted.

When the clock in Wriothesley’s office struck noon, he escorted you out and towards the makeshift venue the prisoners and staff of Meropide had prepared for your performance. It was nothing extravagant, just a simple metal platform with a well-used baby grand piano, but the shoddy backdrop only made you stand out more as you took the stage and sat down. Your fingers slipped up towards the keyboard. As you began to play, Wriothesley had to lean in just to hear the faintest whispers of harmonies. Each note seemed to evaporate, congealing into airy clouds of sound that slowly moved across the room. The music crept towards a crescendo, your hands occasionally dropping into the lower registers of the piano as the auditory sky began to darken and rumble with thunder.

And then, just as it seemed you were ready to send lightning shooting across the crowd, you released the tension with a torrent of rain. Your hands fell up and down the keys in a blur, glissandoing one way before arpeggiating the other. Finally, as quick as the tempest began, it stopped. Birdsong filled the air, a gentle gust of wind tickling newborn leaves and making them rustle with laughter.

You hadn’t even released the keys, but Wriothesley wanted to ensure he was the first to congratulate you for your performance. After he began clapping, a rapturous applause echoed throughout the room. You may not have been a vision holder, but you were still capable of such otherworldly feats, conjuring images simply from the vibrations of strings.

While Wriothesley wished to congratulate you for your playing, many other prisoners had the same idea, rushing up to you eagerly. Some leaned in too close, others clapped a hand on your shoulders, all of them seemed to stoke some fervent flame deep in Wriothesley. He kept his lips shut and simply waited, though. None of them were breaking the rules of Meropide, after all.

The line shrunk at a snail’s pace, as it seemed that each new person wanted to talk to you longer than the last. By the time there was only one person ahead of Wriothesley in line, impatience flickered imprudently in his mind. When he saw how engaged you were with this prisoner, though, the flame of impatience quickly burnt itself out, and from the ashes rose a fire that burnt stronger. The prisoner was an old man in his forties or fifties from the looks of it. He wore such a dour expression it seemed as though he was a wax statue in a hot room. The words you spoke to him were furtive, your fingers reaching into the pocket of your pants. As deft as a magician, the Mora pouch Wriothesley had seen earlier slipped from your fingers to the prisoner’s, who quickly pocketed the money.

Before the prisoner could even turn around, Wriothesley had begun taking wide steps back to his office. If you called his name, he didn’t hear, nor did he care. The guards would escort you out when the time was right and take care of any other matters. His presence wasn’t required there. Instead, he had a much more pressing matter at hand. Walking in a ring around the room, Wriothesley flung open cabinet after cabinet in an agitato, ignoring how files shot out and fluttered to the floor. After each one had been revealed, he began to comb through every single form with surgical precision. There was a cancer in Meropide, and it would be removed with no delay.

The diagnosis was quick. After three or four cabinets, his hands opened a form and read a name he had memorized with such certainty, he didn’t even need to check your signature. As he read the case, his anger ebbed and flowed, constantly changing directions like a river over time. What once was jealousy quickly returned to its original course: protectiveness. Your father was a former merchant with a penchant for gambling. Eventually, he became so mired in debt that he had to turn to less savory business to make money. Namely, selling Sinthe.

You weren’t the issue. No, far from it. Instead, your father had weaponized your wholesome nature and pointed the tip of the blade at your heart. With how you carried yourself it seemed that it hadn’t pierced you yet, but that didn’t mean it had other effects. The form–which was quickly being crumpled by Wriothesley’s hands–contained a photograph of your father, still that same gloomy expression. Beneath the contours of your father’s face, Wriothesley saw his own adoptive parents take shape. He felt the familiar stab of betrayal, of trust razed and devastated.

Wriothesley believed in rehabilitation, but he also believed in justice. And in a place such as Meropide, where every rule was of his own design, justice would be enacted in accordance with Wriothesley’s wishes. When your father was summoned to Wriothesley’s office one day and never reappeared, everyone in Meropide knew what happened. Weeks later, when you were invited to return to Meropide for tea with Wriothesley, as you walked along the metal promenades of the prison, you noticed how the prisoners cast you strange glances, but couldn’t understand why. Week after week, you continued to return, allowing Wriothesley into your world.

All those meetings had led him to the surface, to a small bistro on a quaint street. The two of you were brought into the greenhouse, though the sight surprised both you and Wriothesley. Instead of real flowers and trellises, it was an optical illusion; someone had painted the image of a garden lining the walls of the building.

“Why are there no real…” your voice tapered off, but the waiter was quick to pick up on your question.

“We used to have real flowers, but too many people would pick them. Eventually, the cost of replacing them became too great, so we contacted an artist to paint them.” The waiter shrugged then left.

After pulling out your chair for you, Wriothesley sat down opposite to you and sighed. “What a shame. It looked pretty from the outside.” A few seconds of silence passed as you fiddled with the tablecloth. “Anyways. Say, have any performances planned? I’d love to hear you again.” At the sight of a gentle smile gracing your face, Wriothesley felt himself perk up a little with pride.

“Not at the moment. Sometimes I’m booked, other times I’ve got nothing, and right now…”

Sensing opportunity, Wriothesley quickly jumped back into the conversation. “Well, if you ever need anything, I’m here for you.” His hand slithered across the table and brushed against your palm, fingers full of barely-restrained greed. He could offer you an entire world of opulence and comfort, protect you from those that seek to undermine your innocence. A delicate wildflower such as yourself might wilt temporarily after being transplanted, but in the long run, a stable environment will allow you to flourish without all the threats of nature. You may be the musician of the keys, but Wriothesley has mastered the song of your heart. When he takes you for himself, all that will be left of you in this world is the silent echo of your sweet melody.

Your cheeks flushed, you smiled bashfully. “Thanks Wriothesley.”

#yandere wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #yandere genshin #genshin x reader #genshin x you #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #wriothesley #wriothesley x you

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joosthead · 1 day ago

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Ok now some non-family thoughts. I love normal au in any era or timeline. Not just the family stuff. I would love to know more of their backstory. I wanna see the 1.5 breakups, how they were during lockdown, how they were when Fryslân got released, how they were when he got the call that he was going to represent The Netherlands.

I'm very intrigued about Reader's role in the whole "eurovisie saga" (not surrounding the DQ itself obviously, but the happier parts. Before it all crashed and burned 🥲)

I wanna see Reader at the J005t Klein 4D Experience meeting Enzo and Myron for the first time and planning future double dates. I wanna see Reader backstage at Lowlands 2023 with matching mime makeup. I wanna see Reader in the hot air balloon with the rest of the gang; asking Joosti to kiss her before he takes a bite out of that onion and laughing at Appie fake proposing to Alanis for tiktok.

I love how you gave her friends too!!! Ruby and Marina seem so cool. So Ruby is involved with Tantu. Is Marina romantically linked with anyone or is she just living her best life as Alanis' friend? After seeing her having a drinking contest with Stuntje, I kinda ship it....lol.

I imagine Ruby is hanging out with Tantu and his friends one night and in walks in this goofy blonde man wearing clothes so baggy they look like they are falling off of him and a light bulb goes off in her head.💡 "Hey! Wanna meet my friend who needs to have fun for once in her life?"

Ruby and Tantu setting up their workaholic friends with each other and forming the most mismatched power couple in the friend group that some how produces a lasting marriage and 3 kids. Their impact lol. Well more like purse and baco's impact but the intent was there.

We have so many great writers and artists in the fandom and I love it so much. There's different flavors and vibes for everyone. So many creative and kind people. So chill compared to other platforms. Thank you again for taking the time to read and reply to these. It makes me so happy. More to come I promise. Overstim is going to be fire I know it. - family anon :)

omg i almost passed out i thought i lost this ask

but HEWWOOO FAMILY ANON

ive finally made time to write the response to this!!! i hope you enjoy !! its quite long ahdfskjf

suggestive rpf ahead, minors dni, anti-rpf dni, 18+ only

1.5 breakups will have their time in the sun hehe ;) i wish i could elaborate but huge spoilers LOL. you don't have to at all and please don't feel pressured to -- but i am always down to give spoilers in dms LOL !!

to be honest i have it so that the pandemmy doesnt happen because i tried writing with it and it was soo hard adksjakjds the bulk of their big relationship events and conflict happen during 2020-2021 so i just took it out LOL.

if the pandemmy did happen: there would definitely be a normal au baby or two MUCHHHH earlier LOL. yes it would be an accident. yes it would encourage them to get together much faster than they did. their lives would still be amazing <3 i always think its so interesting to think about stuff like that happening LOL

how they were when fryslan got released:

fryslan was huge for them cuz it was the first album he released with them officially together!! reader definitely gets lit at the release party (also they have crazy good sex that night). she was there through the entirety of the creation of fryslan so like... knowing how much it took to make it, start to finish was very :''') huge for them. j005t klein 7 was already in the midst of the process and one of the breakups happens during albino sports vol 1 creation. so fryslan being their first "wow everything is okay and we will together forever" is emotional for them hehe

eurovisie saga: i usually skirt around this event completely though it does canonically happen in universe. i probably will never write about the sad parts for obvious reasons

i think normal au reader was very involved in the planning for esc :) down to outfits and the rollout and the marketing for it ... definitely lots of sleepless nights in the klein household in the lead-up to. calling out of work cuz they pulled an all-nighter helping with the visuals. when they got the call it was a ton of tears for SURE like they cried for hours about it cuz they were just so proud of him after everything he's gone through... it is a huge "you made it" moment. they were already impressed with how far he'd gotten when they met in 2019 -- never thought something as big as this could happen, but knew that he could make it once he put his mind to it :''')

4d experience

FUTURE DOUBLE DATESSS WAHHHH i think for every friend that reader meets they become friends as well even if they're not super aligned with work and such LOL ... i think it's surprising for enzo that joosti would get with someone so different from him but he soon sees they fit together like pieces of a wonderfully weird puzzle <3 double dates are definitely in line!! especially when they all have kids and can save on the babysittter LOL reader 10000000% gets a little bit of a big head about being his gf and being backstage with him.... definitely lots of quickies lots of hands over mouths lots of disheveled clothing and having to run to the stage before he's late. heheheh

lowlands 2023

HNNNNNNNG they do mime makeup on each other and then fuck about it so they have to wipe it off and let the makeup artists do it LOL. smudged gray black white paint and breathy kissing ,,, fucks them in the skirt and everything... so into it. when they wash it off and get it baxk on again they take a million photos LOL he invites them on stage with the rest of the crew since they're all dressed up for it perfectly but once they see how GINORMOUS the crowd is they refuse and its good cuz once they see how huge this is they cry about it happily

hot air balloon

reader is like the biggest scaredy cat and had to be dragged onto the hot air balloon. im talking eyes screwed shut clinging onto joosti and the friends gigglign about it and promising they'll be fine ... joosti is like guys stop they're really scared :// so they stop and he talks to them. is fully ready to insist that the hot air balloon comes down but reader relaxes and they get to film their content for it <3. once they start making all their little tiktoks reader laughs a little bit and then asks for a kiss before joosti eats the onion hehe and they're fine for the rest of the time :)) my babies

im so glad ruby and marina are liked hehe -- i normally hate inserting ocs when writing rpf (and especially elaborating on them more than a name LOL) ruby and tantu are dating! and marina is the resident lesbian (idk if you know her but ive always envisioned marina like... looking like the director emma seligman LOL not to give my own faceclaims and affect your image of them but yeahhh. she definitely is living her best life as alanis' bestie !!

ruby and tantu

YESSSS i fully believe that once tantu and ruby get involved and she meets joosti she knows... she knows this guy will be fun for dear reader. whatever that means for reader since they never really have fun anyways. i think ruby fully decides on setting up reader and joosti after seeing tantu and joosti work on music together. his work ethic is on par with reader's and they're the same brand of detail oriented but the difference is joosti knows how to have fun and i think ruby really wants her girl to have some fun and live a little :'''). she is a little worried that reader will immediately shut it down cuz joosti is so. joosti. yknow. but shes so pleased when she sees they've argued and reader's given some fun to occupy them LOL. it's sort of a mental stimulation principle (mental stimulation that isnt work or school hehe) they are so mismatched and so unexpected but so goooood for each other. ruby is so happy about this until she's left babysitting 3 rowdy kids LOL at least it's always with tantu

i will give you some songs on the normal au playlist that might give some hintie hints about how the relationship is gonna play out: "spring into summer" by lizzy mcalpine (this is the defacto title of the au in my head. itll continue to be called normal au but this is sorta the perfect perfect encapsulation of the au.), "ankles" by lucy dacus, "maroon" taylor swift, "im not in love" by 10cc, "archie, marry me" by alvvays, "pristine" by snail mail, "everyday almost" by madi diaz, "could cry just thinkin about you (full version)" by troye sivan. hehe. i listen to music 90% based on lyrics and 10% based on sound LOL. so maybe this will help!

im so happy joostblr is this way !! ive never felt so safe in a fandom especially to post and talk and make friends... my last fandoms were pretty hostile so this is so so lovely even if the other platforms are sort of messes. i hope joosti come back soon so everyone comes back !! i miss everyone being here sooo much ajsdasj. im so happy joosti has connected me to wonderful readers and people like you who take their time to truly read and see my work -- i'm so grateful!!! so so so grateful :)) it makes me so happy being able to reply !! ily family anon and im so excited to see you again!!!

#joost klein x reader #joost x reader #joost klein fanfiction #joost fanfiction #joost x you #family anon #normal au #asks #<3 #juno's writing #juno's hcs

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daeyumi · 3 days ago

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okay so i previously said i was gonna post some of the weirder asks in the inbox so here they are. i will be deleting the actual asks from my inbox since i’m not comfortable with answering them outright.

weird asks:

okay first off please don’t do this. it’s…… an incredibly bold choice to walk into someone’s inbox and ask for essentially a master study artwork, of a ship that the artist doesn’t like. (i don’t expect everyone to know my ship prefs ofc but it does lead me to question whether this person even follows me, as i literally never post about that ship- so why request it?)

also ofc they were asking this to happen for free, since they posed it as a request. which were also very closed at the time, since i only accept requests when i specifically ask for them

this one….. i can only guess that they were requesting a doodle of imp form midna, dressed as jessica rabbit? or at least wearing her dress?

no thanks.

okay okay hoooooooooooooo boy there is so much to unpack with this one. okay first off, the obvious— they don’t actually state what they’re referring to- i can only speculate that it was the above posted doodle, since it was the only thing i posted around this time that had both zelda & midna in it?? i don’t even think i have any pieces where all three of them are present.

ANYWAYS with that in mind, i mean yes that’s clearly intended to be zelda’s hand in the pic— but why would u assume link is included in this scenario at all?? he’s literally not mentioned whatsoever AND ALSO why immediately assume sexual context? or at least that’s what i’m guessing anon was implying here? based on the wording?

but again, if this is the image they were referring to (and i can’t think of another that would fit better, unless they saw the midzel “i prefer girls” meme redraw i did, which implies a first person view even less than this doodle does, and similarly doesn’t include link whatsoever)— why assume that the cute cheek squish meme redraw post references a completely different scenario of midzelink? nothing against ppl who ship the three of them, but it’s most definitely not the intent of my doodle here. i should also add that i have nothing at all against sexual content, but moreso want to point out that it’s an odd thing to assume about this image in particular.

i don’t even ship midzelink and i just don’t understand what would make anon assume that that’s what i was referencing

anyways. what a thing to leave in someone’s inbox ig.

okay this one i really don’t want to drag this person bc i get what it’s like to be awkward online but. please don’t do this.

i don’t even know u, so i have no opinion of u. if you want to talk to someone online, it’s best to lead with a question about a shared interest or try to get to know them first- asking someone if they like you, with no additional comments or context is just going to lead to confusion or avoidance.

i just don’t know what kind of response anon was expecting

#weird asks #dae answers #answered asks #cw: suggestive #?#i think??#it’s very unclear but just in case #sorry for being so bitchy on these responses lol but these have been festering in my inbox for a bit

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wisecura · 5 hours ago

Text

Sheets

megumi fushiguro x fem-reader

p.1

p.10 ⁭ ( ⸝⸝꩜ ᯅ ꩜⸝⸝;) p.12 (getting close to the end)

p.11

AN: very very very sorry for the late post! I do have a clear ending in mind for this (typed up my outlines and everything) and I'm hoping to wrap it up soon--thank you for your love and support! and my cute anons asking for updates. it really had been encouraging even when i'm not feeling great. I hope this chapter is up to par, been feeing a bit of a block and a bit shy with posting. sometimes I focus on the negative and forget i'm doing this as a hobby. (get a bit self conscious and wonder if i'm even good at writing haha) so thank you again for the love and support. If this sounds disorganized please tolerate me ♥️ i'm ranting now, so please--

warnings: this story may cover sensitive and uncomfortable topics. please read at your own risk, violence, lashings, blood, mental breakdowns, yandere, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, mommy kinks, mommy issues, arranged marriages, forced marriages, angst, eventual smut, clan politics, age gap (5 years from meg, and a little over 10 with toji), toji aint the best dad, mentions of child abuse, slowww build.

Short summary: Your arranged marriage to Toji Fushiguro had been sudden and unexpected, but now you found yourself living under his roof alongside your moody stepson. Your only directive from your clan head before moving in was clear: keep a close eye on Toji, the notorious Sorcerer Killer, and his son, a potential sorcerer prodigy.

anons, anons, anons (if i say it three times will you appear?♥️)

Your eyes locked onto it immediately.

He’d forgotten his school bag at home, which was so uncharacteristic for the always-on-top-of-it Megumi. The fact that he's gone off without it was a surprise in and of itself.

And being the good, responsible figure you were, you decided you needed to get it back to him. Sure, you could’ve just texted him, but the nagging curiosity ate away in the back of your mind.

You deserved that much…right?

Over the past few years, both you and Megumi had grown, though in ways that felt fundamentally different. It seemed like only yesterday when you towered over him by at least a foot, but now, at 22, standing on the edge of what felt like both everything and nothing, you began to pick up on more around you. Each time he came back, it was as though he had learned something new, gained some insight or skill that added to the ever-growing distance between the person he was and the person he was becoming.

And with those changes came those unwelcome feelings that gnawed at the back of your mind. Jealousy—Admiration. A sense of responsibility that weighed heavier than it had any right to. Overwhelming affection that felt almost instinctive, but no less unsettling. A little too...much for deep thought. And astonishment at the person who regularly sat in front of you at the dinner table—so far removed from the boy you once knew.

Meanwhile, your life felt stuck in place, confined to the monotony of daily errands and long hours indoors. Days blurred together, weeks slipped by unnoticed, and yet that nagging ache in the back of your mind never left. So desperate to go off the beaten path.

And the trail leading to Jujutsu High was gorgeous. Thick trees lined the path, their leafy branches casting intricate shadows on the pavement. The sunlight peeked through in golden streaks, making the entire scene feel almost surreal. The warmth on your face nearly euphoric. You’d only ever seen pictures of this place when you looked it up online, but they didn’t do it justice.

“Woah. And who might you be?”

The sudden voice shattered your focus, making you spin around so fast you nearly lost your footing. Your pulse spiked, heart pounding in your chest as you stumbled back a step, clutching the two bags in your hands like a damn lifeline. For a brief moment, the world around you blurred, leaving only a splotch of leaves in your line of sight.

Your gaze snapped to a face far too close for comfort—definitely too close.

White, unruly hair, gleamed in the sunlight, but it was his eyes, so unnervingly blue, that froze you in place. He was undeniably handsome. But the smirk that graced his face and the look in his eye as his head tilted slightly, was unnerving. As if you were some curious puzzle he’d stumbled upon.

“Lost?” he asked, his tone light and teasing, but there was an undeniable weight in his presence that sent a shiver down your spine. Then it hit you—the suffocating wave of cursed energy radiating off him. It was staggering, an oppressive force pressing down on your chest and making it hard to breathe. How had you not felt it before? It rolled off him in unrelenting waves, so overwhelming it left you momentarily speechless, rooted to the spot.

“What? You shy?”

His voice broke the silence, dripping with that insufferable amusement. He was just as bad as Toji it seemed. He tilted his head a bit more, his eyes glinting mischievously, as if your reaction was the highlight of his day. Your irritation felt obvious, but it was quickly drowned out by the lingering unease that his cursed energy evoked. Stranger danger. stranger danger.

You instinctively stepped back, trying to create some distance, but he didn’t budge. If anything, he leaned in closer, his presence invading your space with an air of lazy confidence, like he had all the time in the world to unravel whatever it was he found so intriguing about you.

You hadn’t even realized you were staring until he spoke again, the lilt in his tone making your cheeks heat with something closer to indignation. Still, you weren’t about to be rude—not with someone who exudes this kind of power. Not when he was the only one walking down this path with you. Not another soul in sight.

“Sorry,” your voice wavering slightly. “Do you… work here?” The hesitation in your tone was unmistakable, and his response was immediate—a wide grin stretching across his face. Fitting.

“That depends… who’s asking?”

Before you could respond, your name rang out, a deep voice, heavy and familiar, cutting through the air from behind you. The grin faltered on the man’s face for the briefest of moments, replaced by a flicker of surprise as his eyes shifted past you to the source. You turned instinctively, already recognizing who it belonged to, even before you saw him.

Of course, it was Megumi.

“What’re you doing here?” His voice was blunt, almost tense, as he closed the distance between you in a few long, purposeful strides. There was no warmth, no casual greeting—just that demanding tone that made your chest tighten.

Why did he look so upset?

Oh, did you... mess up?

You barely had a chance to open your mouth before he was standing right in front of you, his hands gripping your shoulders firmly. His eyes scanned over you as if he was checking for some kind of damage you hadn’t even realized might be there.

“You... left your bag at home,” you voice was soft, quiet. He didn't seem to acknowledge your words as you attempt to hold up the bag. Proof of your...innocence? Why would you even need a reason to be here? You weren't doing anything wrong.

His expression never wavered, the clench of his jaw making it clear that your answer hadn’t fully soothed whatever was bothering him. His grip on your shoulders softened slightly, though he gave them a small squeeze, almost reassuring. But his attention shifted.

Gaze moving past you, and you felt the change immediately. His posture stiffened, his whole demeanor shifting into something colder, more guarded. Without a word, he stepped in front of you, his body casually yet deliberately placing itself between you and the white-haired man. His shoulders completely blocking you from view. The movement was subtle, but the message was clear. Just how did Megumi know a man like this?

“Gojo-sensei,” —Ah.

“What’re you doing here? I thought you were on a mission.”

The man—Gojo—let out a heavily dramatic sigh, looking completely unbothered by Megumi’s tone. “Finished early,” he replied with a casual shrug, hands crossing behind his head, far too relaxed. “But who’s this you’re hiding?”

His voice gave you chills, and you shifted uncomfortably, not able to see him, but no doubt that creepy grin was still slapped across his face. Gojo didn’t wait for an answer. He leaned slightly, trying to catch a better look at you around Megumi’s frame. “She’s not your girlfriend, is she?”

“No,” Megumi shot back, the word flat and final, his tone leaving no room for interpretation. Gojo raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Alright, alright. Touchy, huh?” His voice was playful, almost sing-song, but the way his gaze lingered on you felt a little too probing, a little too long for comfort had Megumi clenching his fists.

You swallowed hard, heat rising to your cheeks. Whether it was from embarrassment, unease, or the palpable tension between him and Megumi, you couldn’t quite tell. You hadn’t interacted with Gojo much, but the way Megumi’s entire presence had shifted told you everything you needed to know—Gojo wasn’t exactly a welcome sight. Whatever lightness existed in the air before was gone, replaced by an invisible but tangible weight pressing between the three of you.

Gojo might not have been dangerous, but he definitely gave the impression of someone who liked to push boundaries just to see how far he could go. His teasing nature seemed to thrive on reactions, and you could tell Megumi wasn’t in the mood to indulge him.

A stray thought crept into your mind....maybe Megumi had never mentioned you to anyone here... The idea hit harder than you expected, a dull ache settling in your chest. You banished it before it could take root—now wasn’t the time.

“Yo! There you guys are!”

A bright and cheery voice shattered the lingering tension. You turned to see a pink-haired boy jogging toward the group, a huge grin plastered across his face. His eyes were wide and warm, his energy unmistakable—this had to be the friend from the photo Megumi sent. There was something undeniably magnetic about him, a friendliness so genuine it seemed to pour off him in waves, reminding you immediately of an overexcited puppy.

Megumi stiffened beside you, muttering something under his breath you couldn’t quite catch before reluctantly offering a grumbled greeting. Yuji skidded to a stop just in front of you, planting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. He straightened quickly, his grin softening into something almost shy when his eyes landed on you.

“Oh, hi!” he said, a light blush creeping onto his cheeks. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, his smile still firmly in place. “Sorry—I’m Yuji Itadori! You must be… uh…” His voice trailed off as his brow furrowed, the wheels in his head clearly turning as he tried to piece together who you might be.

Megumi let out a long sigh, his irritation practically radiating off him. “She’s with me,” he said flatly, stepping just slightly closer to you, his tone making it clear he wasn’t in the mood for explanations.

You couldn’t help but smile at him, his presence a much needed distraction. “Nice to meet you, Yuji,” you said warmly. Yuji’s face lit up even more at your friendly response. “Wow, Fushiguro never said anything about—”THWACK!

Before he could finish, Megumi stepped forward and smacked Yuji on the back of the head with a loud thunk that echoed down the trail, making you jump.

“Megumi!” surprise flooding your tone, trying to sound somewhat scolding. This had to be a first. You'd never seen Megumi so...

Yuji barely flinched, rubbing the back of his head for a second before laughing. “Jeez, Fushiguro! What’s with you today?” His grin stayed intact, though you couldn’t miss the slight wince that suggested the hit hadn’t exactly been gentle.

He raised his hands in mock surrender, still chuckling. “It’s fine! I’ve got an extra-thick skull anyway,” he added with a playful wink in your direction. You noticed Megumi seemed even more frustrated with the additional member, but he didn't comment on it. You wondered how long he'd hold out until he just left.

“Well, Megumi,” Gojo emphasized the name with a teasing lilt, his eyes flicking to you as if testing the waters. “This is…interesting. Didn’t mention you’d have company today.”

Megumi’s scowl deepened, his eyes narrowing slightly. “It’s none of your business,” he shot back without hesitation. He hadn't even known you were coming. A mistake on your part obviously.

“Whoa, Fushiguro, didn’t know you were the overprotective type,” Yuji joked, though his curiosity was evident beneath the teasing tone.

Gojo leaned slightly. "She a friend or something?"

This all but confirmed your earlier suspicions. Megumi doesn't talk about you. You drew in a breath. “I’m his—”

Megumi’s hand shot out, his grip firm but not harsh as it wrapped around your wrist. “We’re done here,” he muttered, his tone low and decisive. Without sparing a glance back, he began steering you away with purposeful steps, leaving no room for protest.

“Wait—what?” Yuji’s voice followed after you, completely baffled. But neither tried to stop him. Gojo chuckled quietly and gave a lazy wave. “See you around… whoever you are,” he called out, lighthearted, his eyes trailing you.

Why the hell was he so curious about you.

Megumi kept his grip on your wrist, practically dragging you along until the two of you reached a more private spot—a quiet little area tucked beneath an overgrowth of trees. Thick bushes surrounded the bench, adding a sense of seclusion that felt both calming and suffocating all at once. You recognized the place from earlier on your walk. It wasn’t far from the front entrance, and the realization sent a small pang through your chest. How many times would he make it obvious he didn't want you here until you'd get it? The self conscious part of you brain was screaming at you. feeling oddly shy with being here.

You stole a glance at him, catching sight of his face. His jaw, clenched, his gaze sharp and tunneled, like he was too lost in his own frustration to notice anything else. The tension in his features was unmistakable, and that tightness in your gut only grew.

When he finally let go of your wrist, you felt the cool air replace the warmth of his touch, though it didn’t ease the knot forming in your stomach. He sighed, his shoulders sinking slightly as some of the tension eased from his posture.

“What’re you doing here?” his voice, low but softer than before.

You could easily cry. Despite being the older one here, you felt more like a scolded toddler, small and out of place. But when your eyes met his, something shifted. The hard glare he’d been wearing was gone, replaced by a calmer expression, maybe even a little tired. His hands moved to his face, rubbing across his eyes as if trying to wipe away the remnants of his frustration.

You really needed to get ahold of yourself. Since when did it matter if he wanted you there? You were there to drop off something he forgot. Maybe it was just the embarrassment teens get when their overly affectionate parent comes to dote on them in front of their friends. Maybe theyd tease him about this later....

When he looked at you again, there was that particular softness in his gaze, the kind that made your chest ache. Your thoughts immediately cleared. Maybe he wasn't so upset with you...

“You embarrassed of me?” you joked weakly, forcing out a laugh that didn’t quite land. You prayed the faint hurt in your tone wasn’t as obvious as it felt.

Megumi’s eyes widened, caught off guard. Like he hadn't anticipated you actually being hurt by his actions. He could sense the tension in your voice, much like how you could sense his. He stared at you for what felt like forever, his mouth opening slightly as though he wanted to respond, only to close again as the words faltered. His head tilted just a fraction, his brows furrowing in thought, like he was scrambling for an excuse but coming up empty. The silence stretched between you, and for a moment, it seemed like he wasn’t sure what to say—or if he even could.

You chuckled, stepping forward to pinch his cheek lightly. “Relax,” you teased, quickly shoving down the lingering sting of your own feelings as you swung the strap off your shoulder and held the bag out to him. He wasn't mad at you. “I told you—I brought your bag. How can someone as responsible as you forget something like this, hmm?”

For a moment, Megumi just stared at the bag, like he couldn’t quite believe you’d gone out of your way for something so trivial. Slowly, he reached out to take it, his fingers brushing yours in the process. The brief contact wasn’t much, but you caught the faintest flush creeping into his cheeks.

“Thanks… mom,” he muttered, his voice quieter than usual, almost shy.

He eyed the second bag slung around your shoulder.

"Oh! And this is for you." He took the bag quizzically, peeking inside only for his eyes to light up. "Thought I'd at least bring your favorite." The packed dinner was a good choice. The awkward tension from earlier melted away as a warm smile spread across his face.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at how cute he was, the tense atmosphere already fading away. A small lull settled between you, the kind of silence that felt comfortable rather than strained. The overgrown trees swayed gently overhead, their leaves whispered softly in the breeze, wrapping the moment in an almost serene stillness. It was starting to get cold out. Soon enough, he would be due for another birthday. Yours had already passed a few weeks back.

Without warning, Megumi stepped forward, pulling you into a tight hug. His arms wrapped securely around you, holding you close as his chin came to rest lightly on top of your head. The embrace was firm, not overbearing, and for a moment, you froze in surprise before leaning into it. He was always one for affectionate gestures... but....

“You should head back,” he said quietly, though there was a faint reluctance in his tone that made you nearly hesitate. You didnt want to leave just yet.

You nodded, your hands brushing his arms briefly before you pulled back. “Alright,” you replied softly, offering him another small smile before turning to leave.

As you walked back toward the path, you spotted Gojo and Yuji nearby, standing a little too still to pass as innocent. You were sure they were supposed to have left already, but there they were—watching. Not that you had anything you were particularly secretive about.

But Yuji’s gaze seemed to dart to anywhere but you, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, while Gojo leaned casually against a tree, the ever-present grin on his face somehow managing to look even more smug.

The second your eyes met theirs, Yuji’s face flushed bright red. He muttered something under his breath, quickly averting his gaze as though he could disappear by sheer will. Gojo, on the other hand, stood there shamelessly. All cocky and arrogant. Immediately irritating you again.

Megumi stepped out from behind you, their eyes shifting over immediately. Gojo’s grin turned absolutely wicked, his quirked brow seeming ready to tease him endlessly. Yuji’s mouth twitched, as though he was trying—and failing—not to laugh, his wide eyes flicking between the two of you.

Megumi, however, barely acknowledged them. He strode past you without a word, but as he did, you felt the faintest brush of his hand against your back. The touch was light, almost imperceptible, but deliberate enough to send a jolt through you. Your cheeks warmed instantly, and before you could even process the moment, Gojo gave an exaggerated cough.

By the time Megumi reached their sides, Gojo and Yuji were all over him, poking his cheeks and teasing him relentlessly. You couldn’t help but wonder if they’d ever let him live down whatever they thought they’d seen. For someone as stoic as Megumi, seeing him soften must’ve been quite the sight for them.

You sighed quietly, feeling a little secondhand embarrassment for him.

The walk home was pretty silent.

It was hard to find much to do when the house was as silent as it was. Time seemed to crawl as you went through the motions of your routine, everything blurring together in the same, boring monotony.

You and Megumi exchanged texts here and there, but as always, he was evasive about certain topics. He avoided talking about his friends, that teacher, and especially his missions. No matter how many ways you tried to bring it up, he always managed to steer the conversation elsewhere.

But he seemed more comfortable sharing through photos—pictures of the meals he was eating, scenic views, and even the occasional selfie with a classmate or two. It seemed he was trying to include you more in his day to day life, maybe sensing your growing urge for something different. You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about it.

He wasn’t supposed to be worrying about you like this—but when had Megumi ever not been thoughtful when it came to you?

He was always helping around the house, bringing home things you needed. He’d carry the heavier bags without being asked, and when he was home, he never went out much. Instead, he’d linger in your presence, watching the same TV shows you liked, or even sitting in complete silence, or even sun napping on the couch. A second shadow.

And if you were forced to admit it, he made the loneliness and monotony a lot easier to bear. His presence had a way of filling the empty spaces, making the house feel less like a silent box and more like a home.

When it came to you, Megumi seemed to have a sixth sense. He was always away at school when you were called out to your clan house, yet, without fail, he’d send you a message the second you got back, asking how you were. He always seemed to know when you were stressed or needed something—sometimes even before you realized it yourself. Megumi wasn’t just thoughtful. No, he was in tune with you in a way that felt almost uncanny.

And now that he was older… you couldn’t help but wonder. Did he still harbor that same puppy crush he had when he was younger? The thought made your head spin. Was he still seeing you in that light, or had it faded? He’d never fully confirmed it back then, never said anything outright. But he’d always been affectionate—hadn’t he?

Wasn’t he always like that?

And yet… how would you feel about that?

No.

These weren’t the right questions to be asking. You still had a place here. You were still his stepmother. These weren’t the thoughts you should even be entertaining, not for a second. But the thought made you freeze in your tracks, the shirt you were folding suddenly feeling heavier in your hands. It was nearing his graduation—just a week away—and you didn't have the faintest idea what came after.

Would he be moving out? Would he stay home for a while to plan his next steps? Would he be doing Jujutsu work?

And then there was the question you didn’t want to ask, the one that made your stomach twist. Would you still be allowed to stay here? Or would your clan come calling, pulling you out of the life you’d carefully built over the years? The main reason for you being here was Megumi and Toji. Forming those relationships and feeding small bits of information. But if neither of them were even going to be home....

No, surely they wouldn’t. Not after all this time. If they were going to do that, they would’ve already done it… wouldn’t they? Surely....They hadn't mentioned it before at least.

Toji had come home briefly the week before Megumi’s graduation, but it didn’t take long to learn he’d already taken on yet another mission. Despite the two of you growing closer over time, it never seemed to slow him down when it came to picking up those lengthy assignments that kept him away for days at a time.

This time was no different. He mentioned it was a high-profile case, one with the potential to drag on longer than expected. “Two weeks minimum,” and he wouldn’t be back in between.

It wasn’t anything new. Toji’s comings and goings had always been unpredictable, and you’d grown used to the empty spaces he left behind. But something about this mission left you uneasy.

But for now, all you could do was wait.

come home

#dead dove do not eat #yandere #male yandere #manipulative #obsessive yandere #jjk #jjk smut #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi x yn #yandere megumi

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