#your descent into madness because of me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

highvern · 10 days

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Drive Me Crazy

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x f!reader

Genre: smut

warnings: strangers to lovers, virgin!JK, dry humping, oral sex, cum eating

Length: ~3.7k

Note: yes i'm insane. no i won't be taking further questions. thank u @gyuswhore for chaperoning my descent into JK madness

summary: You're not the only one with a shitty dating life. Your driver seems to be having a worse night than you can imagine. But things take a turn for the better in the backseat of his car.

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

“Uber for Y/N?” you ask, stumbling into the backseat. “Thanks. God, you wouldn’t believe the night I’ve had.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” the man, Ian according to the information on the app, gasps.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” You’re a wreck; makeup running, clothes damp from the rain peppering on the window. The last thing you want is some hot guy as your driver for the short journey back to your apartment but at this point you can’t muster the energy to care.

“Uhhh—”

“You probably don’t want to hear about my shitty night.”

“Well that and—” he starts, cut off before he can say more by your tipsy motormouth.

“Where does a man get off telling me he isn’t interested in gold diggers when he’s a public school teacher? No offense but what gold?” you ramble. “Not to mention, when I told the waiter to split the bill he asked if I thought he didn’t have any money. Like make up your mind dude.”

“What the fuck?” he asks lowly.

You nod in agreement, hands thrown wide in exasperation. “That’s what I’m saying!”

“That’s fucked up.”

The thickness of his voice doesn’t register in your mind, a broken edgy scratching at the edges of your brain but it doesn’t signal any significant interest “Oh, that's not even the worst part.”

“There’s more?”

“He said ‘I asked too many personal questions.’”

“Like?”

“What he liked to do for fun, if he’s originally from the city, do you like dogs or cats? Literally anything I could think of because apparently he’s allergic to carrying a conversation.” In your hand, your phone rings with an unsaved number. “Hello?”

“Hi, this is your Uber. Did you mean to cancel your ride?”

“What?”

“Ian from Uber? I’ve been circling the block and haven’t found you and you weren’t answering your phone.”

“Oh! I’m sorry I’ll just—cancel. Yep. Bye.” You stare at the equelly unease expression on Not-Uber Driver Ian’s face, muddled brain racing. If he isn’t your driver that means you got into the car with a random man.

“Who the fuck are you?” you scream.

“Who the fuck are you?” he yells back.

You fiddle with the door handle, unable to grab a hold with shaky hands. “Oh my god, you’re a kidnapper.”

“I’m not a kidnapper!”

“That’s what a kidnapper would say!” You fumble for the pepper spray in your bag only to find it absent. It’s not your usual bag. It’s the nicer one that barely fits your phone and chapstick. Damn it.

“YOU GOT IN MY CAR,” he argues.

He makes a good point. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I tried but you talk a lot.”

Another good point.

“Oh my god, what the hell,” you gasp. “Why are you sitting here with the doors unlocked? I could have robbed you.”

“I used my last five bucks to buy this ice cream. Just kill me instead.”

You balk. “That’s so sad.”

“Yeah, I’m aware.”

“You’re a horrible kidnapper.”

“And you’re a pretty shitty carjacker so I’d say we’re even.”

If he was dangerous he's had plenty of time to prove it. Instead, when he looks back over the center console, all you see is the red rimmed eyes of a kicked puppy with a bird nest for hair. A ridiculous expression for a man of his size but you pity him nonetheless. He’s harmless. Pathetic. But harmless.

There’s a story about him and you’ve always been curious. “Okay, not-Ian, why are you sitting in a parking lot eating ice cream on a Friday night? Kidnapper thing aside, this is just sad.”

He’s hot. Even in nothing but sweats and his own misery. The intimidating kind of handsome that people, men and women, pine over. Hand themselves over on a silver platter if he so much as asked.

“Thanks,” he grunts, going for another spoon of ice cream.

“So why are you upset?” The rain outside intensifies, setting the scene to bare your souls in his cramped Toyota.

“Ugh…” he hesitates.

“You don’t have to tell me, but I don’t think it can be any more embarrassing than what I just went through.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Why not? If it’s more embarrassing then I won’t steal a bite. Is that chocolate?”

“Cookie dough,” he corrects. “This girl I’ve been talking to ditched me.”

“Because?”

He prepares with a deep breath, steeling himself against whatever motive his fling had. “I’m a virgin.”

“What?” you ask dumbly. Virgin.

Chin tipped back, he swipes at his face in embarrassment. “I told you it's embarrassing.”

“You’re eating your feelings because you’re a virgin?”

“Yes.” He waits for your interjection. When it doesn’t come he hesitantly continues. “And the last person I told laughed in my face and started hooking up with my roommate. So…”

“What a bitch.”

“Yeah. People just assume I’m some kind of man whore.” He explains, head banging against the wheel. “But I’ve never done anything besides… ya know?”

“I have no idea, complete stranger.”

“Like hand stuff.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely a virgin,” you snort. “Move over, I’m coming up.”

Shimmying into the front seat takes more coordination than you’re prepared for. The hem of your dress rises to brazen heights, a draft curling around the edge of your panties. Its a feeling you assumed would be happening with your date and not in the car with a random stranger. But beggars can’t be choosers. At least it’s good ice cream.

He pointedly avoids looking anywhere close to your legs. Polite. Innocent. Virginal. How cute.

“Thank you. That makes me feel so much better.” His eyes roll as you settle into the passenger seat, snatching the container and taking a bite from the same spoon he’d been using.

“Sorry,” you say after swallowing. “Is it because you don’t want to? Because that girl can go fuck herself then.”

“No, I just, I don’t know. I get nervous? They’re expecting someone who knows what they’re doing and I have no idea. And then all I can think about is what if I’m bad at it which makes me more nervous and then I feel like throwing up.”

“Please tell me you haven’t thrown up on a girl.”

“Ew, no,” he laughs, taking a bite for himself. “I just make an excuse to slow down and then leave.”

“Okay. Well…” You try to think of something, anything, that could make him feel better. It’s not everyday a stranger spills their guts about lacking sexual experience. “So what if you’re bad? It’s not like you can’t get better.”

“Okay, but what girl wants to sleep with a guy who’s bad in bed?”

“How do you know you’re bad if you’ve never even tried? It’s different if you’re bad and you don’t care. Just tell whoever you're with you’ve never done it before. If they don’t jump at the chance to teach you then they can fuck off.”

“Well, Mina rubbed my face in it—”

“Oh fuck her. She seems like a bitch.”

“You’re not wrong,” he says.

Rain drizzles on the windshield, obscuring the lights into messy streaks. A flood of memories surrounding your own virginity rush to the forefront.

Your college boyfriend, Jimin, wanted to wait. It was cute. High school sweethearts going to the same school, taking similar classes, holding hands in the library. You thought he wasn’t ready and you respected it, found it endearing that he wasn’t like most of the guys your friends dated that couldn’t wait to do it.

Or you did until you decided to surprise Jimin for his birthday with breakfast in bed and got your own surprise. A girl, naked in his bed, Jimin’s own clothes scattered around the room.

You broke up with him right there. Two days of crying later, you invited your lab partner, the one Jimin couldn’t stand, over.

It was Yoongi that sent a selfie of you two cuddled up in bed to Jimin. He still likes to cash in on that favor whenever he needs a dog sitter.

Yoongi knew there were no feelings involved. A simple favor in the form of revenge against a shitty ex. Maybe not-Ian is your chance to pay it forward. By the looks of things, you wouldn’t be suffering.

“Ya know, some girls like guys who are inexperienced. It’s hot knowing you can teach someone how to be good in bed. Like an ego boost.” You shrug. If he wasn’t looking at your legs before but he sure is now. Pink ears and round eyes, his fingers twitch in his lap as you suck the spoon clean. At least the hour spent shaving your legs isn’t going to waste. “Besides, you obviously care how the other person feels, which is more than some dudes.”

“Why would someone not care if the other person feels good?” he asks, tone laced with disgust. “That seems like the entire point.”

“The world is full of mysteries.”

“My name is Jungkook by the way.”

Jungkook. Fitting somehow. It tastes good on your tongue. Like the cookie dough ice cream.

“Y/N.”

You end up in his lap in true stereotypical fashion. A too long silence, his eyes on your mouth and yours on his. Someone leans forward and now you know Jungkook is a great kisser with even greater upper body strength.

His inexperience shows in the fine details: shaky hands, hesitant tongue, waiting for you to take the lead as not to offend. It’s endearing. Someone as big as him treating you with such gentleness. But it means he’s thinking about messing this up and that’s the opposite of what you want.

You kiss him deeper, a grip on the side of his neck that he eagerly surrenders too. Your other hand wedges between your chests. Teeth nipping at his lip, you rock against him, palming against the soft cotton sweats until he’s plump in your hand.

“God,” he chokes. His own hands busy themself on your body, one at the seat of your ass, teasing the edge of your dress where bare skin peaks out while the offers a tight grip at your chest, pinching your nipple in desperate retaliation.

“Feel good?” You rut again, a tease for your own pleasure in the form of Jungkook’s heavy breath. It’s decent contact on your core, not enough to get you off but plenty for right now.

Kissing is well in his realm of experience. Obvious from how quickly he finds his bearings, licking behind your teeth. It’s good. Better than dry humping his thigh in the front seat should be. Vision dark from his hands frantic at your ass, thighs rising to meet every torturous curl against the heat of his lap.

You fall into his shoulder, drool staining his sweater as you pant. “Ever had your dick sucked?”

“No.”

A vein raises across his neck and becomes your new guidemap. Your hand at his crotch squeezes, his cock twitching at the action. “Do you want to?”

“You don’t have to,” he hisses.

You squeeze his cock again, enough for a needy drive of his hips in response. “I want to.”

“Seriously?” he marvels.

“If it’s cool with you.” You nose along his jaw, teeth scraping red over his skin. His stomach dips under your hand. “Get in the back, I don’t need to get caught with your dick in my mouth.”

“Holy shit, don’t say that.” He kisses you again, firmer this time.

You crawl back through the narrow opening between the front seats, ass on full display for Jungkook’s eyes. The heat of his palm ghosts over your legs but he doesn’t touch. The deliberate arch in your spine isn’t enough to break his self control just yet.

He comes next. The struggle is endearing, half stuck between the seats and wiggling forward. “I think I’m stuck.”

“Why didn’t you just go around?” You snort, grabbing around his arms and pulling to no avail.

“Too late now.”

You're both laughing. Breathless because Jungkook is lodged between the seats with zero hope. “Why are you so heavy?”

He wiggles through with your help, nearly elbowing you in the head in the process. But he’s in the seat with his lap as prime real estate. You try to commandeer the space once again but Jungkook stops you. Instead, he settles between your legs, weight pinning you into the door. Broad shoulders block out the light but you take it in stride, fisting the back of his sweater as he finds your pulse.

“Can I go down on you?” He nuzzles down your throat, mouthing the spots he’s learning make you putty in his hands.

“Yeah, sure,” you hiccup. “That’s fine.”

Jungkook crams between your legs, bending in half on the floor like a contortionist. The sparse kisses across your thighs would be a blatant tease if nervousness wasn’t rolling off him in waves. He’s eating pussy for the first time and acting like it’s open heart surgery.

“Calm down.” You brush a hand through his hair, attempting to be comforting.

“I am calm.” A bold faced lie. Even in the darkness of the backseat the signs of his impending nerves are obvious.

“You’re shaking,” you say. “I’ll tell you what feels good. You’re not gonna mess it up.”

An open mouth on your core kiss leaves you sweating with a weak hum. At least he knows where the clit is. Or has a vague idea of its presence. Jungkook presses his face further into the cotton, suffocating himself without realizing.

“O-oh,” you hitch.

Humiliation brews from such a visceral reaction to something as basic as a kiss over your panties. But Jungkook is out of his depth here and any reaction will stroke his confidence.

He ducks away, watching you with rapt attention. You’re the teacher and he’s a student eager for whatever validation that may fall from your lips. “Good?”

“Yeah, do it again,” you praise.

He nods before diving back in, throwing your legs over his shoulders for better reach. Your pulse jumps with juvenile eagerness. Like it’s the first time you’re left with a boy unsupervised and his hand is the first real thing to touch you between the legs. It makes you feel dirty. Has your hairline sweat and tongue go dry. A bold wash of his tongue couples the next kiss, hot and wet as he laps against the fabric until your own arousal mixes with spit.

"You fucking liar,” you croak. The back of your head knocks against the window, hips rolling into his mouth.

"What?” Jungkook asks, leaning back but just barely. His breath fans over your skin, a shiver crawling up your spine. “Did I do something—"

“It’s good. So good,” you praise. “Touch me more.”

He jumps at the chance. Your panties tear down your thighs, out of the way with some rough maneuvering. Bare for his eyes, Jungkook takes more than a fill before diving in for another taste. But not until he spits on your clit and rubs in the mess with his thumb. Your thighs spread wider to accommodate a hard pass of his mouth, more wet kisses burning your cheeks.

“Jungkook, fuck,” you sigh. “When you said ‘hand stuff’ what did you mean?”

“I’ve touched a vagina before if that's what you're asking.”

You swat his hand. “Don’t say vagina, it makes me feel like I’m at the gynecologist.”

“Sorry, a pussy.”

“Don’t say it like that either, weirdo. Have you fingered one?”

Pointed silence is answer enough.

“It’s okay. I’m not gonna make fun of you. Just don’t put a finger in my ass and you’ll be fine.”

He doesn't laugh at your poor attempt to cut the tension but he releases a weighted sigh, muscles sagging an inch. Better. Instead, he focuses on stroking you to life between your folds, fingertips nudging your bud teasingly.

“Use your mouth some more and then finger me too,” you beg.

“Uh—how many? I don't wanna hurt you." He’s unsure despite the obvious twitch in your thighs. It burns depravity through your veins. His innocence is hot. Jungkook doesn’t even realize how fucked up he has you from some softcore porn level touching.

"All of them. I don't care, I’ll tell you if it’s too much."

One hand firm on your stomach, keeping your dress out of the way as he spreads your insides with two. The first strokes are meek. Nothing to scream over but he’s learning and that’s what's important. Seconds tick by and Jungkook finds a hesitant rhythm. Wet noises echo with each slow sheath, reserved but stretching you all the same. The wet strokes of his tongue are there too, placating just in case. A soft curl of his fingers makes your hips cant into his mouth.

The fogged windows are a dead give away to what's playing out in the backseat. If anyone stumbles down the sidewalk then you’re both dead but Jungkook’s mouth is distracting in the worst way.

And then he licks between his fingers, tongue slipping past his knuckles for a pure taste of your arousal. You go fuzzy at the edges, thighs squeezing tight until he’s forced to keep them spread or risk having his head crushed.

“Oh–fuck me, god.”

It’s not fair. For him to be good at this so quickly. To delude himself into thinking he could possibly be bad, trying to convince you he’d be bad. Complete unfair how ill prepared you were for Jungkook worshiping your pussy like he’s never tasted anything better.

He really needs to be more confident because, in the cramped back seat of his car, you’re losing your mind and it’s barely been ten minutes.

“Can I—” he asks around your clit.

“Do whatever you want, just don’t stop,” you ramble. “Jungkook, fuck.”

A hand of your own sinks into his hair, angling his chin for better access. Wet echoes fill the car, sharp mewls from your lips adding to the noise. Nerves blazing, your ride his mouth for all its worth. Eager slippery circles of his tongue against your clit intensify, built on praising moans of his name.

“Fuck. Tastes good,” he grunts. A squeeze of your hand, the one not pulling his hair and then he’s finding your chest, blind groping until you guide him to your nipple and curve into the sting of his grip. He twists it. Hard.

You want to cry. The sweat suck of his mouth, fingers confidently curling it that spot that makes the air thinner in your lungs. Moans die between your teeth. Too quick into the next sensation to revel. There isn’t a thought other than Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook.

“Jungkook!” you cry, grinding into his fingers. Your teeth clench as a third one stretches that extra inch. Stiff in the thighs, you force yourself down into the friction. His tongue hardens, perfect for use as you hump his face weakly.

Your legs kick, scrambling under the sharp pleasure. He’s got you melting into nothing right on his carseat. Jungkook doesn’t lean back to ask for more confirmation; just takes the signs for what they are and keeps going with renewed stamina at the promise of your pleasure.

“I’m gonna—oh, god. Yessss,” you hiss. Nails sharp against the back of his neck, Jungkook buries his face in your cunt.

You go rigid, voice breaking into a desperate whimper. Jungkook has the sense to keep going, lashing at your clit over and over with each desperate pulse of pleasure through your veins. Flashes flare behind the darkness of your eyes squeezed tight. You make a few more desperate noises, lurching in his hold before falling lip and worn.

“Fuck, okay. Okay,” you whine, pushing him away from your core before the stimulation becomes too much.

His mouth is drenched, cheeks and chin smeared with your orgasm. A flash of tongue collects some of the mess but you drag him into a kiss before he can go for seconds. First time eating pussy and he’s one for one. If that doesn’t help his confidence then nothing else will.

“Give me a second and I’ll blow you,” you pant into his lips.

“I-it’s okay.”

You pout at the brush off, a deep kiss as you invade his space. “I promise I want to.”

Your hand goes for his pants just to be captured with his own. His fingers are still soaked from your insides. “No, I…I came too.”

“Really?” you ask in awe.

Jungkook is embarrassed again. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. That’s hot.” You kiss him again with a gentle suckle along the curve of his lower lip. Jungkook drinks it in, crowding you back into the door again like you aren’t a pile of mush. Your back hurts from hunching over for so long but you let him keep you tangled up for a little while longer just to feel the shuddering exhale from his nose across your cheek. “Can I see?”

He swallows thickly before rolling down his sweats. The thin fabric of his boxers are wet, sticky under your shaky hand. You dip below the waist band, fingers grazing the limp ridge of his cock. He’s stuck in the inbetween of soft and hard but still hot and heavy in your hold. Your core throbs in interest at the feeling.

Jungkook shivers as you swipe at the slit, collecting a bead of cum. You want to get your mouth on him but he looks like he might cry if you keep playing with it.

When your hand retreats, rising to your lips for a taste, his eyes round, mouth gaping over silent words. The pink of your tongue comes out, lapping at the thick mess coating your thumb.

“Is it okay if I get your number?” he asks after the initial shock wears away.

“Yeah,” you snort. “You can have my number. You can give me a ride home too. And we can do that again in my bed.”

The glee on his face is worth the disgusting mess between your thighs. “Hell yeah.”

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@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @writingbarnes

@dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos

@seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially @scoupsjin @isabellah29

@luvseungcheol @crisle19

#ksmutsociety #kvanity #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #JK smut #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #svt x reader #🫡 highvern

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astraystayyh · 9 months

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you're in the wind, i'm in the water

hyunjin x reader. friends to lovers with a pinch of unrequited love (it's very much requited dw). this is pure brainrot so suggestive at the end. but also fluffy and soft. also reader wears a two piece swimsuit.

a.n: again, sanest response i could have to this hyune. please enjoy my descent to madness :) also the last scene is heavily inspired by my favorite dialogue in the song of achilles!!

pt. 2- orange

The first time you went on a vacation with Hyunjin’s family, you were only seven years old.

You don't clearly remember the island his parents took you to, the details of the travel elusive to your memory's grasp. But you remember Hyunjin- his hair darkening under the touch of the saline sea, akin to a night sky devoid of its stars. You remember the dimple on his left cheek- the sheer pride in you each time you managed to bring it to light. And you remember thinking that Hyunjin was pretty, for the first time in your small existence.

It's a thought that scorched itself indelibly into your brain, and as the years cascaded by, the branches of your love grew, each leave bearing new adjectives to describe Hyunjin- caring, emotional, talented.

But never yours.

You're both older now, and you see him less since his house is no longer right next to yours, the rhythm of life distancing you both. Hyunjin comes in and out of your life as an ephemeral tide, gently brushing your shores. You cling to the sea shells his oceans sometimes throw at your feet- the rare times when your schedules align, when you can see him beyond the confines of your phone, in pixelated video calls late into the night.

And it seems as if you've caught a rare shell this time- one with an ivory pearl hidden within it. Because you're traveling once again with him.

You're all much different, the passage of time marked you in different, but palpable ways. But your presence with Hyunjin's family still felt just as effortless as it did when you were seven. You never had to second guess what you said or how you acted with them. You were just like running water, flowing naturally within the nooks and crannies of his family.

And at night, under the moon's watchful gaze, your hushed conversations with Hyunjin remained. Beneath a shared blanket knitted by his mom, the warm sand melded with your feet, his dimple appearing once again at every word you uttered. He was still as pretty, perhaps even more so with time's gentle sculpting, molding his features into much sharper ones. It seemed only fitting for a soul as beautiful as his.

"I want to take you somewhere tomorrow," he had whispered excitedly, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, momentarily leaving you breathless- tongue dissolving in your mouth like ivory seafoam.

"You want to kidnap me?" you playfully asked, nudging him.

"You don't want to come with me?" he pouted, his gaze locked into yours, pupils appearing much darker with the absence of the sun, like a boundless ocean. The water was right beside you and yet your only wish was to swim in his eyes.

"I want to," you admitted.

"Anywhere?" he asked, irises trembling slightly as he sought your response. You were both very different, chemicals binding his molecules, and your love for him binding yours. You stood faraway from one another- you in the water and he in the wind, stirring your waves, submerging you in the seas of your longing.

"Anywhere."

...

Faraway land punctures the ocean you're gazing at, crystal blue water filling the small pool Hyunjin took you to. You admit it's a breathtaking view, only your eyes can't depart from Hyunjin's figure.

He jumped into the pool first, while you went to retrieve your camera from your bag. And now you stand by the door, heart caught in your throat, as you watch him swim around. Hyunjin is graceful, in the way he moves his limbs, bending the water to his will. It doesn't look like he's swimming, rather dancing on liquid ground.

Kkami joyfully barks once he sees you, and Hyunjin finally lifts his eyes, locking them with yours. He is pretty, unattainable, a singular star outshining all the celestial light. Foolish of them to even think they could compare.

And he's still not yours.

"I’ll take a picture of you both," you smile softly, willing yourself to conceal the lump growing in your throat. Hyunjin nods, draping his hand over Kkami's body, softly scratching the spot behind his ear. You take the first pic, capturing the tenderness in Hyunjin’s eyes. This one's for you alone.

"Okay, look at the camera," you call out cheerfully, and they both turn to look at you in unison. Though your bodies did not touch, the intensity of Hyunjin's gaze seemed to sear into your skin, igniting a fire within you. Foolish of you to dream of more.

You set the camera aside, before sitting at the edge of the pool, dipping your toes into the cool water. Hyunjin swims towards you, positioning himself between your legs, his warm hand wrapping around your ankle. You want to flee, to go back to to the innocence of seven, to never recognize how pretty Hyunjin is, to avoid the heartbreak of dreaming of someone you'll never have.

"Come swim with me," he pouts, palm pressing against your damp skin. You shake your head, a teasing smile on your face, and he pulls you to him, hands holding your waist promptly to prevent you from sinking under.

You free yourself from his intoxicating hold, before diving into the water, a desperate attempt to get away from him. Because when Hyunjin held your waist, a tenderness so earnest in his eyes it made your heart skip a beat, you dared to imagine a future together. For a fleeting moment you became the ocean and he the sky, merging at the faraway horizon.

Hyunjin dives right after you, and then you both swim around one another, giddy smiles on your faces, your laughter echoing around the room. He tries to drown you, hands gliding across the surface of your skin, making goosebumps ripple in you. You attempt to do the same, but you soon regret it. His skin was smooth, taut muscles flexing under your touch; broad shoulders you wrapped your arms around, trying to push him down. Your hand accidentally brushed against his pulse, and you removed it as if it had burned you. There is life beating within him, wildly. But not for you. Never for you.

"Wait, hold on. Your straps are loosening," he notices, reaching for your arm and spinning you around, your back now facing him. "Can I?" he asks, voice dipping to a lower timber. You feel it in the depths of your stomach, depths only he can unravel.

"Yes," you whisper, as he undoes the loose knot of your swimsuit, the one behind your neck still holding up the fabric against your skin. You can feel his cold breath traveling across your bare back, crystalizing the droplets of water trailing on it. His fingers are a stark warmth as they brush against your spine, fingertips gently grazing your skin, like a delicate feather. You imagine your body is molten wax, and he's the seal stamp pressing onto you, molding you whichever way he'd like.

He's tentative as he grabs the undone straps, wrapping them in a knot. Or at least attempting to. You can tell that he's shaking, a shuddering breath escaping his lips. "Im sorry, I didn't tie it well," he giggles sheepishly, undoing the knot once again. You don't reply, unsure of what words will stumble out of your mouth. 'I don't mind you touching me' instead of 'it's okay'.

You turn around once he's done, but he doesn't move back, his body mere centimeters away from yours. You can see the rise and fall of his chest, the slight blush creeping up his neck, coloring him in the prettiest shade of crimson. The droplets cascading down his body, forging a tantalizing path you wish you could undergo. His dampened hair, a shade darker than his usual color. His lips slightly parted, rosy as they've always been. His adam's apple bobbing up and down furiously.

And you suddenly can no longer breathe.

Beneath the water, his hand encircles your wrist, a touch so faint you almost believe that you've imagined it. His fingers trail down, holding your palm and bringing it to his face. He closes his eyes, letting out a shaky exhale, one you inhale right back in. You're cradling his cheek, his hand right on top of yours, holding it in place.

"Hyunjin..." you start, but he shakes his head, eyes still shut.

"Please," he whispers, "just for a little." and the clouds slightly uncover, a singular sun ray piercing through them- one petal of hope unfurling at his words.

"Don't- don't do this," you plead back, tone tinged with panic. You couldn't have him, not even for a second, not even in a dream. That's the way things are. Two parallel lines, traveling down the same path, forever adjacent, but never merging as one.

Hyunjin plants a soft kiss on your wrist, lips barely brushing against your pulse. You've never truly known gentleness until this moment.

"If I told you that this trip with you is the happiest I’ve been in a while, would you believe me?" he whispers against your skin, head slightly tilted.

You shake your head no.

"If I ask you something would you be honest with me? I'm tired, yn," he says, his voice softening as it always did when he uttered your name. As if the syllables were always coated in honey, even in his sadness, in his anger, and now, in his pleading for you.

"I will," you respond with an equally quiet voice, and yet it resounds loudly around the room, amplified by the consequences looming around the corner.

"Do you want me?" he asks simply, expecting you to easily uncover a secret you've buried for years, to dust the weight of your fear in mere seconds.

You remain silent and Hyunjin deflates a bit, shoulders slumping forward, the dimple in his face vanishing completely.

"Because I'm drowning in my want for you."

A water droplet falls from the strands of his hair, landing softly on his mouth. You follow its descent, as he licks his lips nervously, his hold on your wrist faltering. The wind is gliding across the water- he's offering himself to you. Who are you to ever refuse?

Your lips crash on his before you even realize it, years of longing exploding before your eyes, spilling from your mouth to his in the most vibrant colors. His lips are soft as you've always imagined them, and they move against yours perfectly, as if molded from the same dough, created to meet again and again, in a fervor, and then in a tenderness that makes your heart ache.

You're kissing Hyunjin, and you aren't burning, disintegrating under the weight of longing for someone so unattainable. You aren't Icarus- you flew too close to the sun but it hadn't burned you, instead it embraced you, it's now wrapping its hands around your waist, pressing your chest to its warm one. It's a touch you welcome, one that liquefies in your veins like molten amber.

You wrap your legs around Hyunjin’s waist, as he walks backward until your back is against the pool railing. Your hands are tugging his damp strands, fingers threading through his locks the way sunshine weaves between the leaves. He tastes sweet, sweeter than anything you've ever had in your life. And you're greedy, you can't get enough of him, so you part for a second only to meet again, his hands digging into your sides. Chest to chest, skin to skin, heart to heart.

"Say it," Hyunjin whispers against your lips, "say that you want me back."

"I want you. So much, Hyune. You're the only one I’ve ever wanted," your words wash over him, erasing every doubt that was anchored in his heart. How could you not have seen it, all this time? In each photograph you took, his gaze, always on you. The fondness in his eyes and the dimples in his cheeks, only ever coming forth for you.

You lean away, head dipped down to kiss his shoulders. Your lips trail down his collarbones, moving to the mole on his arm. He smells like chlorine, and the sweet scent of your monoi oil. Hyunjin is pretty, Hyunjin is warm, Hyunjin is yours.

Your eyes meet his and you both let out giddy giggles, the flush of your cheeks matching his. His lips are slightly swollen, and he bites the lower one as he glances at Kkami, who was idly watching you both.

"Do you think we traumatized him?" you ask in a hushed whisper.

"I think he's glad this happened and he no longer has to hear my rants about you," Hyunjin smiles sheepishly and you laugh, the sound reverberating through Hyunjin’s heart.

"Have I ever told you how much I love your laugh?" he asks, thumb swiping across your cheek with a tenderness that leaves you dizzy in its trail.

"You have," you whisper, the sound of it getting caught in your throat.

"And this?" he gently grazes your cupid bow. "Have I told you how much I love your lips?"

"You haven't," you say, mouth parting slightly at his words.

"This then," he trails across your neck, skimming your pulse. "Did I tell you how I feel about your blush? How it always always starts up your neck? Always so pretty?"

"No," you are breathless now, shuddering under his touch.

"What about this?" his hands hold your waist, kneading the tender flesh. "Did I ever tell you? About this?" They go over your hips, gliding across the bare skin. "Surely I did."

You shake your head. Skin burning up where he had touched it. He smiles, tongue poking against his cheek, hands going to your back, tracing over your spine, undoing the knots of your swimsuit. "And this? Did I tell you how much I want you?"

You close your eyes, wind meeting water. "Tell me again."

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gavisimmaculaterizz · 3 months

Note

Hi I was wanted to request one with Jude where you and Jude are cuddling asleep on the couch but Jude forgot he invited his friends over and they make fun of Jude for being a simp

— loverboy / jude bellingham.

summary: jude can be a simp when it comes to you, as his friends say.

warnings: none, just fluff

masterlist

as the sun began its descent toward the horizon, it filtered through your blinds, casting luminous shades of princeton orange and sunflower yellow across the room.

you had spent most of your day with your boyfriend, jude, chatting and tidying up your lovely apartment in the heart of madrid.

the evening was warm and comfortable, creating a quiet and cozy ambiance. you lit some candles and settled into the comfort of your couch.

with your feet propped up on the coffee table, you reveled in the comfort of your surroundings as you immersed yourself in the pages of your book, waiting for jude, who was washing the dishes.

so entranced by your book, you didn't notice jude had finished with the dishes until he announced his presence.

"baby, I finished with the dishes," your boyfriend said.

startled by his voice, you quickly closed your book and looked up into his chocolate eyes.

"you scared me, for god's sake!" you exclaimed, laughing nervously.

he chuckled, looking at your startled expression, and took the opportunity to sit down on the couch beside you.

"come here, baby, I'm sorry for scaring you," he said, breaking into a fit of giggles.

you swiftly moved, positioning yourself on jude's lap. although annoyed he interrupted your reading, you found you couldn't really be mad at him while wrapped in his arms.

"what do you want to do today?" he asked, giving you a peck on the cheek.

"let's just relax, jj," you said, yawning. all that cleaning had left you exhausted to do something fun.

you snuggled into his shoulder, finding peace and comfort. as you started to drift off, a noise reverberated through the house.

ring

it was the sound of your doorbell…

"who was supposed to come today?" you wondered internally. you couldn't remember inviting anyone over, and you assumed jude hadn't either.

unbeknownst to you, he had invited his friend and girlfriend over.

"i'll get it, baby. you stay here," jude said calmly.

you nodded, anticipating the visitor at the door.

jude walked over and, upon reaching the door, peeked through the peephole.

"It's rodrygo and his girlfriend," he whisper-yelled. you adored rodrygo and his girlfriend, yet their presence was puzzling.

he opened the door and was greeted by the brazilian couple.

"good evening, jude," said rodrygo and his girlfriend luana. he welcomed them and invited them inside.

"Y/N!" exclaimed luana, upon seeing you on the couch. she adored you, and the feeling was mutual. she was your favorite WAG, and you always spent time with her whenever you both were free.

"luana, it's great to see you, babe! come and sit down with me," you said as she approached, and gave her the biggest hug.

jude and rodrygo entered the room after, observing the two of you chatting.

"hello, y/n," rodrygo said with a smile. you returned his greeting and offered them both something to drink.

luana sat close to rodrygo while jude came over to your side, promptly draping an arm over your shoulder.

he started kissing your neck, seemingly oblivious to the visitors around.

"jude, stop it! there are people here," you exclaimed, laughing nervously. he always had a knack for making you feel nervous in the presence of others. he tends to become cocky in the presence of his friends, which can be frustrating as he sometimes gets too carried away.

"yeah jude, we don't want to see you eating your girlfriend's neck, you simp" rodrygo said, laughing.

you began to feel embarrassed immediately, but jude, on the other hand, didn't care at all because he was entranced by you.

once he got out of trance, he noticed your flushed face, and began to laugh.

"we just saw you make out with your girlfriends neck" rodrygo said laughing. soon after rodrygo, luana began to laugh with him.

"can't i show affection to my girlfriend?" jude asked, adopting a pleading puppy face expression.

"you behave irrationally around her; it's like you're completely infatuated," came the reply.

he complained in a childlike manner after being called a simp.

but he didnt care if he was called a simp for you..

a/n: im sorry i delayed this so much i was so stressed abt my english presentation🥹! if its shit im so sorry i was super stressed and i wanted to get something out 🫶🏻

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #football #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham x you #real madrid #jb5 #bellingham latest #rma #rmcf

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theostrophywife · 9 months

Text

kiss with a fist | chapter one.

masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: kiss with a fist - florence and the machine.

author's note: i'm so excited to share this series with everyone. this was literally meant to be a one shot fic but i have no self control therefore it spiraled into a whole series. without further ado, please enjoy the first chapter and let me know what you think 🤎

Wit beyond measure is a man’s greatest treasure.

Intelligence, knowledge, wisdom. These were the traits that Ravenclaws valued most, but if the founder of your house could see you now, Rowena Ravenclaw would probably roll over in her grave.

Because there was nothing smart about falling in love with Theodore Nott.

In fact, it might be the most idiotic thing you’ve ever done in your entire life.

So why did it feel so bloody exhilarating?

To understand your descent into madness, it was prudent to trace the events back to point zero.

It was a rainy September afternoon, unusually dreary even for the Scottish Highlands. The first week of your return to Hogwarts had been chaotic to say the least. Between performing your prefect duties by showing the first years around the castle and dealing with the clueless third year that accidentally set off Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs in the Great Hall, you were absolutely knackered by the time Friday rolled around.

Unfortunately, you had no time to rest. Even though the term just started, you were already spending much of your nights studying until your eyes felt like they were going to fall out of your skull. Tonight, you were in the potions laboratory tackling a particularly stubborn advanced draught. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t figure it out.

You dropped a sprig of wormwood into the cauldron and stirred counterclockwise then clockwise, just like the recipe instructed. The concoction bubbled to the surface. Holding your breath, you peered into the mixture with hope that this try would finally turn out successful. The potion turned a vibrant magenta color before exploding all over the front of your uniform.

Sadly, this was the closest you’d come to brewing the Angel’s Trumpet Draught. You sighed, wiping down your tie with a washcloth. It did nothing except make the mess worse. What you needed was a good old fashioned soak.

Luckily, you had access to the prefect’s bathroom on the fifth floor. During this time of night, it would be gloriously empty. Giving you the perfect opportunity to wallow in bubbles and self pity.

The trek from the dungeons to the fifth floor was fortunately uneventful. The hallways were dark and quiet, allowing you to slink off to the bathroom in peace. With a whisper of pine fresh, the pearly gates opened.

You turned on the faucets, setting the temperature just below boiling and dispensing herbs and fragrances into the tub. When you were finally satisfied, you quickly discarded your soiled clothes and eagerly stepped into the warm bath. The scent of rosewater and pink himalayan salt instantly relaxed you.

You sighed deeply, leaning against the marble tile and closing your eyes. This was definitely not the way you thought seventh year would go. Your last year at Hogwarts was supposed to be the highlight of your academic career. While your housemates fretted and fussed over quidditch games and blood moon balls, you refused to take your eyes off the prize.

Ever the diligent student, you had no interest in extracurriculars unless it brought you closer to your dream of becoming an accomplished potions master, which would hopefully catch the eye of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. Joining the prestigious group was a dream that you had been working towards since first year. Blood, sweat, and tears had gone towards achieving this goal, especially during your most recent break.

You spent the entire holiday interning at the Brewery, attending lectures at the Magical Division of the University of Oxford, and you had not only completed the assigned reading for your Advanced Potions class, but Professor Slughorn’s personal recommendations as well. All of that hard work should have placed you ahead of the curve, but your class rank remained the same as always.

Second.

Not first.

Never first.

No, that spot belonged to that rich infuriating smartass pureblooded motherfu—

“Theodore Nott,” you said, lacing your voice with as much venom as you could muster.

Between the pale moonstone pillars stood the source of your academic anguish. Theodore was dripping sweat, his green and silver quidditch jersey covered in mud and grime. The prefect badge pinned to his robe was barely visible, more brown than silver. His curly brown hair fell erratically across his cheekbones as he brushed a stray strand away to squint in the faint light.

The side of his mouth quirked up into a smirk when he recognized you. “You know, most people just call me Theo.” His gaze lingered on your form, which was barely covered by pink suds. “Especially those who know me rather intimately.”

You flushed in response. Amusement danced in his watercolor eyes, which seemed brighter now thanks to his sun kissed complexion. Knowing Nott, he probably spent his summer laying out in the Italian sun while attractive witches fed him grapes by hand. You didn’t get a tan like that from holing up in the English countryside with nothing but a boiling cauldron and a dusty textbook for company. He didn’t even have the audacity to pretend like he was worried about his class ranking. The bastard.

“Every rule has its exception, Theodore,” you gritted out. “Now get the fuck out.”

He cocked his head, sending a mass of wavy brown locks to spill to one side. “You’re right. Most people don’t usually say my name like it’s an unforgivable, but I guess you’re special in that way, diavolina mia.”

Little devil, Nott's idea of a fond nickname, irritated you to no end. Your annoyance only made him use it more. Gods, what a wanker.

“Are you deaf or just thick? This bathroom is occupied,” you huffed, sinking lower into the bubbles. “Leave before I scream bloody murder.”

Theo smirked. “Oh, I guarantee you’ll be screaming.” He kicked his shoes off, leaving them in a messy pile beside your own neatly arranged boots. “Though the only thing I’ll be murdering is that pu—”

The glare you sent his way would have sent lesser men running for the Forbidden Forest. “I’m serious, Nott. I’ve had a terrible fucking day and I am not giving up the bath.”

“Neither am I,” he countered. “Practice was brutal. I ate shit on the pitch and all I want to do is to reap my prefect benefits via bubble bath. I’m afraid you’re just going to have to learn how to share, sweetheart.”

You watched in stunned silence as he peeled off his jersey. The moonlight streamed through the glass stained windows, painting him in a surreal sort of light. There was no ounce of shame to be found in Theodore Nott as he stripped off his trousers and stood stark naked in the middle of the bathroom.

Look away, you thought. Look the fuck away now.

But like a moth to a flame, you found yourself horribly drawn to the cocky, arrogant, son of a bludger. His tall frame cut an imposing figure in the dark as slivers of moonlight danced across his ridiculously toned chest and well-defined abs. He was neither brawny nor scrawny, but somewhere in the middle, which unfortunately happened to be your sweet spot.

To make matters worse, the smug prick seemed perfectly aware of your ogling. You could’ve sworn Theo flexed as he stalked towards you. Unlike most boys his age, he wasn’t awkward or bumbling. Theo was confident in his body. Too confident.

You sighed. “Can you at least attempt to be decent?”

“Why? It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before.”

As if you needed a reminder of this ongoing tryst between you. Theo waded to your side, leaning his head back as the warm water sloshed around him. His eyes fluttered close, those thick lashes of his kissing the top of his cheekbones. Water trickled down his collarbone and you had to fight the urge to lean over and lick it off.

“I told you, last time was—“

“The last time,” Theo finished. “I’m perfectly aware, principessa. You say it every time.”

“I mean it this time.”

He cocked his head, flashing those hypnotizing eyes at you. “Oh?” Theo drawled slowly, reaching out to brush a wayward lock of hair that had escaped from your braid. “Did my poor little Ravenclaw finally find the courage to say no to the big bad Slytherin?”

Your breath hitched as he pressed his lips against your throat. “Fuck,” you whispered.

“Go on then, love,” Theo hummed against your skin. He kissed the sensitive spot beneath your earlobe, making you involuntarily arch into him. Slender fingers wrapped around the base of your throat, holding you in place. “Tell me what you want, diavolina.”

You sighed in defeat. “Stop being an asshole and kiss me, Nott.”

Theo grabbed the back of your head and crashed his lips against yours like a man starved. After months of going without, you came to the horrid realization that you craved this as much as he did. You crawled into his lap, straddling him as he gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

I am a stupid girl, you thought. A stupid, horny girl who had no business snogging Theodore Nott.

One, you were bitter rivals. Two, Theo awakened a dangerous side of you that defied all logic. This whole fucked up situation started because of your lapse of judgment last winter. As always, Theo had said or done something to annoy you during class and in return you hexed his drink to taste like dragon dung. He retched for a week straight. Somehow Snape found out that you were to blame and placed both of you in detention.

One thing led to another in the potions classroom and you ended up with your skirt around your waist and Theo’s head between your legs. You quickly resolved that the only way to shut him up was to keep him occupied and occupied he was. Ever since then, the two of you had been at it like rabbits.

You thought that you would leave all of it behind in sixth year, but barely a week into this term and you were already repeating the pattern.

“I’ve been thinking about this all summer,” Theo groaned into your mouth.

“That’s cute, Nott,” you responded sarcastically. “Miss me over the holidays, did you?”

Theo rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. Don’t act like you haven’t been thinking about this too. You’ve been testier than a Hungarian Horntail since the minute you got off the platform. I could tell that you haven’t been properly fucked since our little impromptu goodbye in the broom closet last spring.”

“You’re absolutely repulsing.”

He smirked. “Then why are you pulling me closer?”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up and fuck me before I change my mind.”

“You could say please.”

“I could,” you said with a shrug before gripping his cock and lining him up at your entrance. Theo groaned as you sank down into him with a satisfied little smirk. “But I won’t.”

The moan that came out of his mouth barely sounded human. “Fuck,” he said, burying his head in the crook of your neck. “How do you always feel so fucking good?”

You knew what he meant. As much as you hated to admit it, Theo was right. You hadn’t gotten properly laid since your last tryst. There had been other boys this summer, but none of them made you feel like this. Because sex with Theo wasn’t just sex. It was warfare. You fucked like you both had something to prove.

Even now, as you grinded your hips against him, Theo thrusted upwards with equal force like you were competing for the bloody house cup. You ran your fingers through his hair, frowning a little.

“What?” Theo asked.

“Did you cut your hair?”

He grinned as he trailed kisses along your jaw. “You don’t like it?”

“Less to hold onto.”

“Don’t worry dolcezza,” Theo chuckled darkly. He squeezed your thighs and pressed you against him roughly. “I’ll make sure to hold on tight for the both of us.”

You hummed in agreement before sinking down again, setting a steady rhythm as you rode him with reckless abandon. For someone who valued logic, every ounce of common sense you possessed went out the window when it came to this infuriating boy.

Maybe you were a masochist. But as Theo thrust sharply into you, the stupid little voice in your head said that you didn’t really mind the pain.

You moaned as Theo tilted your chin, capturing your lips with his. It was a clash of tongue and teeth as you fought for dominance, putting your bodies to the test. He knew exactly what buttons to press, which sensitive spots to hit, how to challenge you physically and mentally.

“Gods, right there.” You whimpered, digging your fingernails into his back. Theo’s hypnotizing eyes snapped to yours, piercing through every layer until you felt even more bare than you already were. “Don’t fucking stop, please.”

He smirked. “So you do have bedside manner after all.”

“Not for you,” you said as you grinded down hard, making Theo bite into your shoulder.

“Salazar fucking save me,” he grunted.

“Your founder can’t save you now, Nott.”

“Cruel, ruthless woman.” Theo looked up at you like he was praying to the stars. His movements stilled as your gazes collided. “Tell me you missed this. Tell me that no one else makes you feel like this.”

You whined at the loss of friction. “You’ve picked a shit time to get all sentimental on me, Nott.”

“It’s not sentiment, it’s the truth,” Theo declared, thrusting lazily. “And I want to hear you say it.”

“Why?”

“Call it curiosity,” he said casually. “I want to know if I measure up to the boys back in Oxford.”

Not even close, you thought. But you were not about to admit that out loud.

“Curiosity killed the cat, you know.”

Theo chuckled before sinking his teeth into your neck. “But I’m not a cat, little bird. I’m a snake and I’m coiled around you ready to strike if you say the word.”

You shivered slightly. This constant back and forth, all the bickering and banter, was just you and Theo’s sick and twisted version of foreplay. Gods, you fucking missed it.

“Fine,” you grumbled. “Theodore Nott, you are an infuriating little shit but you fuck like an absolute demon. I missed sneaking around with you in the broom closet, the charms classroom, the astronomy tower, and wherever else we managed to defile in this bloody castle. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

The shiteating grin on his face almost made you want to take it all back, but then he flipped you over, laying you down on the cold marble tile and staring at you with so much lust in his eyes that you felt the depths of his desire in your core. He crawled over you, water trickling down his tanned skin.

“Close enough,” he remarked before hiking your leg over his shoulder and burying himself so deep that you clawed the edge of the tub to keep yourself from slipping.

The rest of it was a blur of skin on skin as Theo unleashed himself on you. His mouth, his fingers, his cock were all just tools of seduction that he wielded with lethal precision.

The pleasure washed over you in waves, crashing again and again as he made you cum not once, not twice, but a total of three times. By the time he reached his peak, you were so exhausted that the two of you collapsed in the dark.

You laid side by side, staring up at the domed glass ceiling in stunned silence. After a moment, Theo turned over to face you.

“So?”

“So what?”

“Did I manage to knock that stick out of your arse?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing off the tile. “And that’s my cue to leave.”

“I’m kidding. I’m good, but I’m not that good,” Theo teased, following closely behind as you put your clothes back on. He eyed the bright magenta stain on the front of your uniform. “What happened there? Did you murder some poor unsuspecting pygmy puff?”

“No, but I did a number on the potions lab,” you lamented with a sigh. “That stupid Angel’s Trumpet Draught is bloody impossible to brew.”

“That old thing?” Theo asked, pulling out a fresh set of clothes from his quidditch bag. “I finished it ages ago.”

You gaped, nearly tumbling over your own skirt. “How? I followed the recipe word for word and this disastrous stain was all I managed to achieve.”

“Sometimes you have to go off the book,” he replied. “Experiment a little.”

“No thanks, I’d rather keep all my limbs intact.”

“I think you’re doing a rather splendid job of endangering yourself all on your own,” Theo said sarcastically. He cocked his head as you slipped on your boots. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll show you how to brew the draught in exchange for a favor.”

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “What kind of favor?”

“That’s for me to decide and for you to accept.”

“I’d rather not give an egomaniac a nuclear advantage.”

Theo rolled his eyes. “Do you want my help or not, diavolina?”

“Fine,” you said with a sigh. “But only because I’m desperate.”

“Words every bloke is dying to hear.”

Without a word, he tossed a mass of balled up fabric in your direction. “What’s this?”

“A jumper, an article of clothing generally worn to retain warmth in colder climates,” Theo deadpanned.

“I know what a jumper is, you tosser. Why are you giving it to me?”

“Because, you’ll get a cold walking around like that,” Theo explained with a longsuffering sigh as though you were a clueless first year. The corners of his mouth quirked up. “Plus, I can see your nipples through your blouse and as much as I enjoy the view, I doubt that flashing Filch is at the top of your bucket list.”

“You truly are appalling,” you replied, shrugging the slightly faded jumper on. The thing was so worn that you couldn’t even make out the inscription on the front. The fabric swallowed you whole, skimming the top of your thighs. It also smelled like sea salt and smoke and boy. One boy in particular.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He grinned, showing off those stupid little dimples of his. “Meet me in the potions lab tomorrow. Eight o’clock sharp, just like old times. And bring a muffin.”

“For the draught?’

“No, for me.” Theo said, holding the door open. “I’ll need motivation if I’m spending my Saturday morning with you.”

You slipped into the hallway and flipped him the bird. His laughter followed you in the dark like an annoying shadow.

“See you tomorrow, my little pygmy puff!”

Taglist: @annaisabookworm@marina468@yaraasthings @the0doreslover@bubybubsters@moony-artemis @natasha887@lucyysthings@criesinlies @bunnymallowo@niktwazny303@letmedownslows @siriuslyalovergirl@wordsarelife@clairesjointshurt @daydreamingabthar @mishtay @cherry-hoe @littlebookbengal @maybefoxysouls @nomup @aliensknowmyillusions

#your honor i love him and his filthy mouth #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott smut #theo nott x you #theo nott imagine #theodore nott x you #theo nott fluff #theo nott fic #theodore nott fic #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n

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generalsmemories · 7 months

Text

Ginkgo leaves

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ based on the ask: Since reqs are open, you think you could write jing yuans reaction to his lover being Mara-struck? Thank you! - requested by anonymous

✧ contents: established relationship, angst, hurt/almost no comfort lmfao, implied character death, mentions of other characters, pov mostly written in jing yuan's pov, still usage of 2nd pov (referring the reader as you), mayhaps ooc because jing yuan is an emotional wreck.

✧ a/n: when i tell ya'll i legit struggled to be able to write this entire thing. there's been like 3-4 scrapped drafts because halfway through writing i would just NOT be satisfied with the result. to the anon who requested this, i'm so sorry it took this long - but i hope the upcoming trainwreck makes up for it! a trainwreck im still not actually satisfied with LMFAO. but it's better than the other 5 scrapped works. also not beta-read so fellas if u see a spelling error - no you didn't.

p.s: some mara-struck information i give here are totally fanmade for the purpose of this fic alone, as such don't take whatever i write about mara here as what actually happens canonically to characters (then again most of the playable characters have different symptoms of mara themselves).

"Benefactor, am I correct to believe you're asking me if the general has any specific interests?" Tingyun asks with a snicker, the trailblazer looking away from her prying eyes while mumbling a quiet yes.

"Some of the younger... Can I call them younger? Anyway, some of the younger Xianzhou citizens are very infatuated with the general. Seeing as I've been announced as his honory guest, they do often come and ask me various things to try and gain his favor. So yeah, anything at this point will work - so please!" the trailblazer hurriedly explained, clasping their hands together in a desperate attempt to get anything from the foxian amicassador leaning back with a quirked eyebrow.

"Ahh, love truly makes someone go blind doesn't it," she muses out loud, the trailblazers' eyebrow furrowing together in confusion over the foxian's lady choice of words, "... You're not entirerely wrong with that statement..."

"Do you want to know what his favorite flower is?" Tingyun asks, ignoring the confused question that had been uttered to her, snapping her fan open to hide the cheeky smile that spread across her lips - but anyone could still tell that her eyes were gleaming with mischief as the trailblazer nodded their head.

"He doesn't have one."

"Then why did you even-"

"But he likes ginkgo leaves."

The trailblazers' eyes widened in shock, and rightfully so because the very thing ginkgo leaves are associated with are after all...

"He had a lover once, and as far as I'm aware, his last moment with them while they still had their consciousness intact was surrounded by ginkgo leaves."

Jing Yuan whilst having forgotten almost every single moment with you, does unfortunately remember the exact details of the day that your descent into madness started. Because what he witnessed wasn't a futile struggle you had with yourself to not to destroy everything within your vicinity. Instead, he witnessed the slow process of your bright self becoming an empty shell, only capable of uttering a few words.

It's comical really, even when faced with a curse that struck everyone mad - he found out that it oddly fit your character to not go mad, but instead become the complete opposite of your gentle self. A hollow shell of the person he fell in love with all centuries ago.

Jing Yuan knew he had to end your suffering right then and there when you first started to show signs.

But he couldn't - This wasn't something that had to be immediately dealt with, his hand wasn't forced like it was back when he had to slay his own master down before she took more lives.

No, this was a normal afternoon on what would've been another normal, mundane day in both of your lives. But everything went wrong the moment Jing Yuan heard the breaking of glass, and how there was a lone gingko leaf inside the palm of your hand - a ginkgo leaf that you were staring wide-eyed at with a trembling hand.

You were too far from the veranda to have a ginkgo leaf in your hand.

General Jing Yuan would've ended your suffering the moment you turned around to lock eyes with him, your own face twisted into one of utter fear.

General Jing Yuan would've reported you the to Ten-Lords Commissions as the law had stated. But Jing Yuan couldn't - because Jing Yuan knew that the moment he did, he would never see you again.

So he decided for once he would be selfish. Jing Yuan rarely made choices lately that was based off of his own feelings, but his time with you was cut too harshly, so once again he chooses to be selfish. Even if that meant that it would prolong your suffering just a tiny bit more. "... We can figure something out," was the only thing he could muster up the courage to say with a shaking voice. You didn't say anything, your mouth wobbling a tiny bit and your breathing getting harsher by the second.

But still you indulged him - you always did. So with an equally wobbly smile, you only nodded your head slightly, "... Sure."

That wobbly smile and expression of utter fear was the last genuine expression that truly came from yourself.

The descent to becoming fully mara-struck is usually a fast process, the curse able to completely overtake someone's mind within the same day the symptoms appears - rendering the person completely vulnerable with the only alternative to either hand themselves in to the Ten-Lords or wait for the Ten-Lords to come to them personally.

Your usual easy-going smile was gone, in its stead was eyes that kept going in and out of focus. Almost as if you were desperately trying to keep yourself grounded - a battle you both knew would end with your defeat.

Jing Yuan didn't dare to venture outside of the house. One step out and every Cloud Knight would've been on you within seconds to subdue you. He had first initially resorted to just holding you within his arms for as long as he could, to be able to remember how you felt like after your death.

But with the minimal strength you had left, you had wobbled to the garden, every step taken only making you pant heavily. But even with heavy breaths of air leaving your lips, you had refused to take Jing Yuans hand or offer to even carry you out to the garden. When you had managed to reach the ginkgo tree standing tall at the center of the garden, Jing Yuan was sure you were going to collapse in front of it, taking a quick step to catch you.

But instead you had merely reached your hands up, the falling leaves fluttering gently down onto your palms. And while you were in indescriable pain for the last couple of hours - Jing Yuan could only see a serene expression when you looked up at the ginkgo leaves that were continously falling down.

"... They're beautiful... aren't they... Jing Yuan? It's almost a pity... that these beautiful... leaves are associated with our doom," you said softly. Jing Yuan could feel his breath hitch in his throat when you uttered his name.

You're obviously struggling to convey whatever thoughts you still had to him properly, taking a moment in between words to catch your breath, eyebrows furrowed slightly as you fought against the searing pain that was spreading through every nerve in your body.

There's a sudden gust of wind which causes the pile of leaves in your hands to flutter away from your grasp. Your hand stretches out slightly, almost in an attempt to reach out for them - stumbling a bit in your step. The limp causes Jing Yuan to take a quick step forward with his arms outstretched. Perhaps seeing him in your peripheral vision causes you to stop the futile attempt to catch the escaping leaves, arms going limp against your side as you turn to face him - your once blank expression turning into a somber smile instead.

Jing Yuan thinks that it's unfair how normal you look in front of him - almost as if you haven't been becme mara-struck. Like nothing has happened to you aside from the ginkgo leaves fluttering from your lips whenever you cough. The same cough that causes the general of Luofu to flinch every time - without fail.

And perhaps you can see his inner turmoil, the way he tries to make eye contact with you, but is unable to after a few seconds. The way his hands clench too hard into fist to the point droplets of blood fall down to the grass and stains it a deep red while he bites his own lips to not say a word - lest he says something that he will regret.

And you truly wish that you could tell him everything is okay like you usually do.

But for the first time since the day he lost his friends, you can't.

"... I'm sorry," you finally say, the apology making him whip his head up to you again. Mouth opening to say something to comfort you, to tell you that it's not your fault. But the words are unable to leave his mouth when he sees your arms slightly outstretched towards him with a small smile.

And he can't hold it in anymore.

It only takes him a few wide steps to reach you from his position before he cradles you within his arms. The grip is tight, unbearably tight to the point it hurts, but you don't complain. You're limp in his hold, and if this was any day he wouldn't comment, but the fact that you're not moving a single muscle terrifies Jing Yuan to the core. "... Please," he finally manages to whisper, the rustling of ginkgo leaves around you almost drowning out his quiet plea.

"Please don't make me do this again."

He doesn't ask if the tensing of your body is caused by the pain that's rapidly increasing or if it's caused by his silent confession. He can however feel the gentle hand that rests against the lower part of his back and your head resting against the side of his own. The reassurance you try to give him does nothing to help because he's aware that it probably brought you unmeasurable pain to try to move those limbs - instead the general buries his face closer to your neck and squeezes you tighter.

"... You won't." you whisper quietly.

It takes a moment for Jing Yuan to process the meaning behind those two words.

But it's a moment too late, because before he can get his phone out to usher a command, a few resounding knocks can be heard throughout the quiet mansion.

"General Jing Yuan. This is Xueyi of the Ten-Lords commission. I've gotten information that there's currently a mara-struck within these premises."

Jing Yuan feels his blood run cold, he pulls himself away from you to stare at you properly in disbelief.

You're still staring at him with the same somber expression, however he can tell there's a small pitiful smile grazing your lips, "I'm sorry," you whisper once again.

"I asked her... personally," you start, finally letting yourself rest now that the end is near, slumping down onto Jing Yuan's chest, your ear settling itself against his heart to hear his rapid heartbeats.

Jing Yuan loathes the fact that it's at this moment, with the Ten-Lords commission outside of your door and with him completely broken do you actually look at peace - like your battle against time has finally come to its conclusion.

And naturally, the one who lost is you.

"Half a day... with you. Then she would come and bring me there. You won't have to... do this again."

You're not able to see Jing Yuan's face - and Jing Yuan wouldn't want you to see how he looked like right now. The arms around you is trembling, his mind is racing - trying to come up with anything to give him a bit more time with you.

But for once, the general that had a plan for every situation had nothing in mind.

He's lost. And the prize of the loss this time is losing you forever.

"General, I apologize for the rudeness of what I'm about to do, but this is for both of your safety," Jing Yuan hear Xueyi mutter from outside of the door, before he hears the rattling of the door frame start to slide open.

"Wait- no," it's a quiet request that gets ignored as Xueyi strides in alone, the lack of company making Jing Yuan's eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"... Their last request along with the request for my late arrival here was for the Cloud Knights to not see you like this. Naturally I won't tell anyone of what I've seen today."

Jing Yuan doesn't care about that, he could care less about his image right now, pulling you closer to him while his eyes are downcast - he makes no move to hand you over to the judge.

The puppet judge before him does not say anything - nor does she make a move. What she does however is wait, wait for the general before her that has been utterly crushed and broken by the person in his arms start to accept the harsh truth once again.

If he doesn't handle the mara-struck himself, someone else would - but the end result only serves to punish him in the end, the one left behind.

Xueyi hears a silent breath be let out by the general, her once closed eyes opening up to see the general pull slightly away from you, one hand reaching up to cradle your cheek. Your eyes have long since closed, and you're most likely not even conscious to hear what he's about to say.

"My dear... I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. But I'm afraid you'll have to wait a bit longer before we can meet again," he whispers, bumping his forehead against your own gently, "I hope you won't fault me for that."

A long ginkgo leaf flutters right between the two of you, eventually settling down on your chest.

Jing Yuan sucks in one last deep breath, "I'm sorry I kept you here for so long - I'm sorry you had to be in pain for so long because of me," he leans in to slot his lips one last time over your own, whispering something that Xueyi can't hear before he rises up, your body limp in his arms.

"Thank you for your service Miss Xueyi, please see them off appropiately." Jing Yuan says, voice sounding eerily calm - almost like his usual self.

When he turns around to finally face her, the puppet's lifeless eyes seem to grow a bit in surprise. Before her is the general of Luofu, his usual easy-going smile present on his lips.

Like he wasn't carrying his mara-struck lover in his arms.

"As much as I would want to accompany you to see them off, I'm afraid I have some urgent matters to attend to," he informs, handing your body over to Xueyi - she doesn't comment on how his hands are still slightly trembling or how he immediately turned a bit to the side to ignore staring at her head-on.

Even though Xueyi doesn't want to ask, she still asks either way, "What are your plans from here on, general?"

Jing Yuan only gives her a close eyed smile, turning his gaze towards the large ginkgo tree with his hands behind his back. He gnaws a tiny bit at his lips, finally breathing out.

A couple of seconds passes by before he opens his mouth.

"I think I'll meditate a bit under this tree before heading back to the Seat. I can't leave Luofu without me for too long after all."

5 SCRAPPED WORKS AND I'M STILL NOT ACTUALLY THAT SATISFIED BUT IF I KEEP THIS PIECE LONGER IN THE WORKS THE MORE I'LL BUTCHER IT SO HAHA - THIS IS THE BEST WE CAN DO AFTER 3 MONTHS OF CONSTANT BACK AND FORTH FELLAS. I HOPE IT SQUEEZED YOUR HEART A TINY BIT NONETHELESS.

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail imagines #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr imagines #star rail x reader #star rail imagines #star rail x you #honkai star rail angst #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan angst

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toomanyideasandfandoms · 2 months

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I knew you'd like the idea >:3

Just imagine the characters having an intervention meeting without the creator and they bring THAT up and the notebook along with it and the entire room just goes to silence and no one know how to bring the fact that close to half of the deaths later on were of their own creator's hands.

You're right though, I def think that Sumeru would actually make the problem worse and potentially cause a relapse in which case another nation takes over and Sumeru is seen as worse or inferior for causing more pain to the creator (like the little hypocrites they are smh)

Imagine there's some pages on the old notebook of just describing how they felt and the reader can see the slow descent to madness as each death happens and it's like forbidden knowledge for them to the point that it actually like becomes risk of being lethal, so they kinda stop looking into it and just try their best to heal their creator and just leave the skeleton in the closet, per say.

I forgot to put my little thing on the last post but here it is again! I have way more ideas for sagau that i will probably never get to write so i'm happy to share them!

🍌anon

🍌 anon I want you to know that I am eating everything up cause MY GOD THE WAVELENGTHS WE'RE HAVING AAAAA

And ohhhhh ohhhhhh forbidden knowledge, your brain rn omg. CHRIST ALMIGHTLY

Some of the notes would actually be forbidden knowledge, especially if we're talking the early ones and if the creator was isekaied before Sumeru's archon quests. Omg- NO ONE CAN READ THE FIRST COUPLE OF EDITIONS, besides for Traveler-

Wait....this just made me realize something. I FORGOT TO EVER THINK ABOUT THE TRAVELER, WHAT ROLE WOULD THEY EVEN HAVE??? OH GOD HOW COULD I OVERLOOK THIS WAIT

Putting a pin in that for later (slamming my head against the wall over this)

But yeah Traveler is probably the one that creator would be closest too, because they have to be the first ones (besides Nahida or Neuvillette) to know the truth. So when the notebooks are found they're the only ones allowed to read it. So they would be at the meeting and conveying what is necessary but also keep the important parts our for the sake of the creator's privacy and to keep the forbidden knowledge from infesting again.

What probably keeps them at an advantage is the language creator uses can only be read by Traveler since Teyvat's language is usually translated for us in game in our own languages.

And also yes Sumeru would be worst, glad we agree. BUT THAT'S ONLY BECAUSE OF THE AKADEMIYA, Azar fucking sucks and would never understand. BUT- if we're talking with Alhaitham being the acting leader then there's a higher chance for them. Especially with the other Sumeru characters being there, and Nahida!! Nahida would be a godsend since she obviously would have the most knowledge, both known and unknown, and also would be able to peer review others ideas based on when she's read the memories of the creator (poor baby got traumatized tho-)

PLUS! Kuni (Wanderer name I use, making sure that's known) being our body guard, ain't no way creator is dying even if it is their wish. Combine that with Cyno also on guard duty and you got a chance of healing way better then whenever Azar (fuck that guy seriously) was in charge.

#sagau #genshin sagau #death seeking creator #others ideas #also i am very happy youre sharing this with me #i love hearing peoples ideas #this is why this blog is a dumping sight for ideas #let us all scream at each other over every potential a story could have #🍌anon

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garciaasfluffypen · 3 months

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for she is mesmerized

r is very proudly of polish descent. what wanda doesn’t know, is that r can speak fluent polish and wow, is it hot in here or is it just her?

pairing: wanda maximoff x f!reader word count: 1.9k warnings: use of y/n, female leaning terms of endearment, wanda’s falling in love with you but refuses to admit she has feelings (#emo), mentions of wanda having nightmares, mention of y/n's family dying (no description), small descriptions of looks (reader has wavy hair, no color used), reader and wanda are both 19-20 years old

a/n: hello besties, wanda phase!melly is back (everyone say thank you wandasaura!!!). i'm not used to writing for wanda so her characterization *may* be a little bit off, but i'm excited to try and step into her shoes! also, please don't get mad at me if the polish translations are off i literally speak zero polish but wanted to use it because i'm polish and thought it would be cool.

translations of the polish used will be at the end of the post!

if you’ve ever heard of the avengers, chances are you’ve heard of the hiena. she hailed from poland, and made it very clear she had no intentions of succumbing to silly american traditions (except for halloween and christmas, since pepper made her fall in love with decorating the tree in the lobby of avengers tower and she loved the idea of halloween since she was a kid). there was very little that y/n shared about herself, but if she could tell the avengers about her homeland and how much her traditions meant to her, she’d do it. her polishness was something y/n kept close to her chest considering she moved away from home a few years ago after a big explosion killed her whole family. there were things about y/n that wanda wanted to know like she knew the back of her hand. things that only y/n could tell wanda in the solace of her company, when the rest of the avengers had gone to sleep and it was just them two in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to heat up.

it was probably why wanda started falling in love with her.

well, wanda wasn’t sure she’d call it love, per se. the slovakian had been a recluse since she first arrived, especially after watching pietro sacrifice himself for the greater good. her feelings had pretty much been turned off since the moment tony gave her the pin to her room. and while the others didn’t understand her need to be alone sometimes, y/n did. wanda appreciated the space she gave her, but sometimes wished that she could get a little bit closer to her. she wanted someone here she could rely on. while she had that in natasha, she couldn’t find herself ever knocking on her door in the middle of the night when the nightmares plagued her. natasha had made it clear that she would be there for her no matter what, but if she were being honest, she was still a little intimidated by the red head. everyone had their stories, and wanda knew she would learn about them in due time. but the one story she wanted to learn was hers.

y/n was very different from her hiena counterpart. while her avenger-sona - as wanda liked to call it - was very in your face and i won’t take your bullshit, y/n was almost the opposite. she was very much not confrontational, she would tend to sink away when faced with the opportunity to face a problem in the tower head on. she was quieter than one would think, staying towards the back or opting to stay in with pepper and bruce while everyone else went our for drinks and dancing after big missions. it was enamoring how much she changed as soon as the grey and white suit came off and y/n could be herself. wanda always watched her from a distance, never getting too close for comfort. trying to catch her walking down the halls or watching her relax in the library curled up with a book. the way her wavy hair framed her face in the lowlight of the fireplace always had wanda mesmerized. how could someone with so much pent up anger look so angelic without even trying?

wanda’s phone buzzed with a reminder that read “weekly avengers meeting, 2pm”, which meant she had to leave the solace of her bedroom. with a sigh, she wrapped her cardigan around her midsection before slipping on her shoes and making her way into the hall towards the elevators. the doors opened on the third floor where all the meeting rooms were, leaving her to shrink further into her cardigan and keep her head down as she walked through the halls and past all the closed office doors. as usual, thor was jaunting on about some crazy story, probably fabricating some of the details to make the girls he was talking to flaunt over him more than they already were. natasha, who was standing a few feet away at the vending machine, simply rolled her eyes and grabbed the bottle of mountain dew from the bottom before continuing down the hall.

as wanda made her way down the hallway, she passed a room with a singular person in it. you. hiena. she had to force herself not to trip over her own two feet as she peered through the crack in the door, biting her thumb nervously as if you knew she was there. wanda had to force herself to look away from you and step out of the way as you paced the room, fearing that you’d see her and know she was eavesdropping. should she be eavesdropping? not at all. she was still so new to the team, she had a reputation to upkeep. but there was something about hearing you talk in your home language so professionally that had her stopping in her tracks.

it almost reminded her of home.

“przepraszam, nie rozumiem.” you sighed. “nie uważasz, że lepiej byłoby-” you got cut off, sighing angrily. “wiem, co masz na myśli, ale nie do końca się z tobą zgadzam.” another moment of silence. “dobrze. porozmawiam z tony'm.”

you hung up your phone and wanda sprung into action, running away from the door and acting like she didn’t just listen to half of your conversation despite the fact that she understood only one word. she waited a moment before walking down the hallway, pretending that she just happened to pass the room you were in at that very second.

“wanda!” your polish accent was shining through. “you’ve been settling in okay, i hope?”

“as good as i can,” she started. “it’s um.. a change.”

you nodded. “i can understand that. it was a lot for me too. you heading to the meeting?”

“yeah uh, yeah.” wanda nodded.

“can i walk with you? that way you don’t have to go in alone, i know the first avengers meeting can be a bit weird with everyone staring at you.”

wanda had to stop herself from buckling at the knees.

“that’s very sweet of you.” wanda smiled. “thank you.”

“of course.” you gave wanda a half smile. “come on, tony doesn’t like it when we’re late.”

wanda smiled as the two of you started walking down the hallway together. she had to fight every urge in her body to stop her hand from brushing up against yours as you walked towards the meeting room together.

as for you, you could practically feel the admiration radiating off of wanda. you had found it quite cute how she always seemed to be watching you do your mundane little tasks. it might have been the reason you found yourself leaving the comfort of your room more and more lately, trying to catch a glimpse of the younger girl. wanda was young, yet she had been through so much. she was handling it with so much grace and composure, you were surprised you hadn’t heard her break down into tears yet as you walked past her room every night. there was the chance she had magick-ed the walls, yes, but you knew from experience you could only hold things in for so long before the dam burst. it was how you and bruce bonded when you first joined the avengers. he had found you in the midst of a breakdown and from then on became your father figure- more so than tony, who was the one who took you under his wing in the first place. granted, tony was… well, tony. there was only so much you could get out of him before he started acting weird about it.

the meeting went off by without any issues, mainly going over and debriefing the last mission you went on and attempting to tip toe around talking about the battle of sokovia, considering the wound was still pretty fresh for wanda. paperwork was signed, reports were filed and you were ready to get out of there. the weekly meetings were very tiresome, you hated talking over the strategy side of things. you always had an itch to keep moving and doing things when it came to things like this. even in high school, before everything went to shit, you would always look forward to the end of the day so you could go run on the track for a few hours before heading home. bruce had gotten you some fidget toys, saying something about how they’d help, but they only do so much when all you want to do is move around.

the need to be moving all the time was partly why you named yourself after hyenas. not only did your powers give you heightened hearing, the strength you found while training with natasha made you feel as fierce as one of them. the avengers were almost like your pack, even though you could never consider yourself the leader. you had been under tony’s wing for a few years now, and almost considered them family. almost. nothing would or ever could replace the family you had left behind in poland. you talked to them constantly, trying to keep in touch with them as much as you could to make sure they were doing okay after everything that had happened. it pained you to think that they would have been gone if you hadn’t grown into your powers sooner.

“alright, meeting adjourned!" tony’s clap shook you out of your thoughts. “i’ll be in my office if you need me. but don’t need me, actually, i have a lot of things to do today.”

pepper rolled her eyes. “i’ll be readily available if anyone needs anything. you all know you can come into my office whenever.”

“thank you, pepper.” wanda’s voice was quieter than it was earlier.

“of course, sweetheart.”

everyone dispersed relatively quickly, leaving you and wanda alone in the room. thankfully pepper got the memo to close the door behind her, giving you two a barrier from the outside world.

“are you okay?”

“hm? oh um… yeah. i’m…”

“i lost my parents too. a few years ago.”

“i’m sorry.”

“don’t be. shit happens, you know?” you chuckled dryly. “i guess what i’m trying to say is, if you need anything… my door is always open.”

you could have sworn a smile cracked on wanda’s face. “thank you.”

“it’s okay if you’re not okay, yet.” you looked over to her. “i have to remind myself of that every day. i’m still not okay. the independence i got from my family…” you paused. “i could have saved them if i was there.”

wanda reached over and squeezed your hand sympathetically. “there are a lot of things that we could have done differently. we can’t dwell on it.”

“you sound like natasha.” a small smile formed on your face.

“i might have picked up a little bit from her.” she smiled back. “she’s very smart.”

“that she is.” you glanced at the time on your phone. “do you want some lunch? i made perogis and rosół yesterday.”

“perogis sound good. what is ro…”

“rosół? it's a soup from poland. my mom made it for me and my cousins when we were little. a lot of the time when we were sick, but it’s still good even when you’re well.”

“that sounds good too.”

“then it's settled. lunch time, on the house.” you slapped your knees and stood up. “you coming?”

“let’s do it.”

TRANSLATIONS: przepraszam, nie rozumiem- sorry, i don't understand nie uważasz, że lepiej byłoby- don't you think it would be better to // wiem, co masz na myśli, ale nie do końca się z tobą zgadzam- i know what you mean but i don't fully understand // dobrze. porozmawiam z tony'm - fine. i will talk to tony // rosół- a traditional polish soup very closely aligned with chicken soup! typically made with some sort of meat, broth and other garnishings. *thank you to tynix for letting me know i was using the wrong translation of "fine"!

#moja żabko universe #wanda maximoff #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #mcu fanfiction

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bunny-yan · 3 months

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wow… your yandere duke series is so powerful. the betrayal, the angst, it’s written so well!! i’m not requesting a drabble or anything, i’m just wondering where do you think reader and the dukes relationship will go after this? imo it would be impossible for the reader to forgive their husband after knowing he let his brother do what they wanted with them. will you be continuing this series or can you provide a general answer of some sort?? :D the curiosity is killing me!!

Someone else requested the reader to don the apparel of a widow and I think it'd be really interesting to write about how the different aspects of your relationship change because the husband you knew and loved is now dead to you.

I imagine the reader being coaxed into intimacy just for the duke to get angry and not know whether he wants to force you closer or push you away when it isn't the same as before.

It wouldn't be as genuine.

I think of it almost as a reverse love-bombing except you aren't the abuser in this situation. You're captive in this idea of who you thought your husband was, who you hope he still is, and yet you can't choose between the gnawing guilt you feel whenever he looks at you like a jilted child or the anger that threatens to consume you whenever you feel what he let his brother do to you.

I think it'll be a slow descent into madness until one of you breaks.

How? I guess we'll see.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #ask #yandere male #gn reader #yandere duke

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 5 months

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hey maggots PLEASE CALM DOWN ONE MOMENT PRESS CONFERENCE.

Okay. Have we stopped screaming? Okay, nice. *taps mic* Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your--I mean, hi, Good Omens fandom and maggots. I was going to make a new intro post eventually, but after you all flattened my notes with eldritch screeching I think a press conference is more fitting. Especially considering the phrasing of these beauties:

Maggots I love you but look me in the eyes and tell me you're not journalists reporting straight to the Times, with full honesty. You cannot. The how do you feel about this is only missing several microphones with news outlet names all in my face and that's wonderful. Entirely valid. Press conference time it is.

First, for those of you who do not need a Q and A, a quick note: Um hello maggots, yes I am still grieving, cheers to the people who queued sad Good Omens posts for the exact time I finished watching. That is dedication, truly, to torturing your mascot. A most sincere fuck you to all of those kind folks.

Next, Neil, thank you for showcasing my madness. I barely remember making that updated post. It was 2 am and I tried to convince myself it was a bad idea. So of course I did it anyway and now I am staring in horror at how unhinged I have revealed myself to be. You picked the most perfectly awful time to delve into the fray. I raise my glass to you.

Alright. For everyone else who is utterly confused and/or has just entered this madness, below is the press conference you have instigated, my loves.

You: ASMI WAKE UP NEIL REBLOGGED YOU. Me: I'M AWAKE I PROMISE THANK YOU ALL THE TWENTY ODD PEOPLE WHO SHOUTED FOR ME TO WAKE UP, YES I WAS NAPPING. BUT I AM AWAKE. IT IS DIFFICULT NOT TO BE. You: HOW DOES IT FEEL BEING LESS THAN A MONTH IN THE FANDOM AND-- Me: I was kidnapped, so with the blindfold and all the ropes, I'll be honest, I lost track of time. It could have been less than a month. *stares into distance* It could have been eighty years since Jan 4th 2024. You: YOU'RE AN ADOPTIVE MAGGOT. Me: Now hang on one second y'all you're stealing my term. I coined maggots to describe all the people, in the Good Omens fandom or otherwise, who kidnapped me or followed me or watched me descend into madness. Why? Because I was made the Mascot of the fandom, and Maggot sounded like Mascot. Kind of. I didn't know at that time that there was a bloody maggot scene in Good Omens. I also didn't know that apparently in the Bible, Bildad the Shuite calls mortals 'maggots'. But either way. I'm the adopted mascot. And the adopted child of divorce. You: If people who follow you or watch your descent are maggots, does that make Neil a maggot? Me: Uh okay I've got this question several times. @neil-gaiman, Neil I'm sorry, I'm going to pass this question to you. You are free to reply or not as you choose. *hands one of the mics over* You: ARE YOU OKAY, ASMI? Me: THANK YOU FOR CHECKING IN. *clutches Crowley even closer* NO I AM BLOODY NOT. I'M ON DAY FOUR OF GRIEVING AFTER THE SECOND SEASON. ANY MENTION OF POTTED PLANTS MAKES ME EMOTIONAL. THE GOOD OMENS BOOK IS ARRIVING TODAY IN THE MAIL, THANKS JEFF BEZOS FOR AMAZON. OH WAIT AMAZON IS THE STREAMER FOR GOOD OMENS. THANKS BEZOS AGAIN. IF I HEAR THE WORDS RITZ, EDINBURGH, PLANT, RED, BLACK, DEMON, HELL, STARS, CONSTELLATIONS, ESPRESSO, I WILL START TO UGLY CRY. *SHOVES MICS ASIDE, RUNS THROUGH THE CROWD TO GO SOB IN A CORNER ABOUT CROWLEY IN EDINBURGH NEXT TO ELSPETH AND WEE MORAG UNTIL THE GOOD OMENS BOOK ARRIVES AND I CRY OVER MY BABY ANTICHRIST AS WELL*

Cheers everyone conference over because your poor Good Omens Mascot is currently incapacitated with grief goodbye I'm sure you understand--

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bliss-in-the-void · 10 months

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Why is Satoru so fixated on this idea of “never letting anyone be alone again”?

The answer at face value is obvious, Suguru was alone after they started taking solo missions, but let’s really talk about the gravity of that statement, and also the relevance that Shoko’s “I was there too, you weren’t alone” has with this concept.

I’ll be discussing the manga so spoilers if you aren’t caught up:

This analysis cooks I tell you

In Jujukai 0, Satoru sees that Yuuta tried killing himself with a knife to prevent hurting other people. He wants to confine himself completely and be alone, exactly like what Suguru had to go through a decade earlier. Satoru recognizes this and forces Yuuta to join the first years so that he won’t be alone and face the same descent into madness that Suguru did. He feels that he failed Suguru, and this is shown time and time again throughout the story, such as here:

Here, Satoru had a discussion with Shoko, who is remembering that conversation. He said that he’ll raise the next crop of sorcerers to be allies so no one will be alone (his prime motivation for everything), and then Shoko responds effectively, “I’d never fall in love with either of you, but even still, I was still there, you weren’t alone”

But she isn’t recognizing the full meaning behind Satoru’s words. Because what happened after Satoru became the strongest? This became his belief:

He advanced at such a quick rate that he left Suguru in the dust. And that caused both of them to be alone. He was alone in being the strongest, and Suguru was alone in being unable to reach that same level, alone to deal with curses on solo missions, and alone in his descent of madness. It drove them apart, and got in between their bond.

I think Shoko recognizes that much. But I thought it was weird when she suddenly said “I’d never fall in love with either of you” because it was like…well, yeah, but why say that? Bringing up love seemed kind of random and out of place.

And then I realized it’s because she recognizes that Satoru and Suguru were in love with each other. Being in love with someone means that you feel a certain level of depth unmatched with anyone else. You feel like the two of you are at the top of the world, or in your very own world, apart from the rest, completely untouchable. Time and time again we see this shown throughout Satoru and Suguru’s interactions.

That is what Shoko means when she says “I’d never fall in love with either of you”. She’s saying “I recognize that I never felt the kind of love you two had for each other, but you were still never alone.”

And I get that. But because she doesn’t comprehend the bond they had (and really, she couldn’t, because the only ones who can truly feel it are the two of them), Satoru and Suguru really were alone once they split up. Maybe not physically, but emotionally, they were all alone.

And Satoru left Suguru first. Not physically, but emotionally. Because of the stark difference in their abilities. And that is what lead Suguru down his dark path, because he felt alone, and Satoru wasn’t there to chase away his contempt for non-sorcerers like he used to.

When Satoru says he wants to raise strong allies so no one is alone, he’s saying that he wants no one to be the strongest, he wants everyone to be at the same level, so that there’s no barriers, there’s no blind reliance on power causing someone to take what they have in front of them for granted like he did to Suguru.

That’s why this hits harder given that context:

“Trust, huh? To think you still had some of that for me.”

Suguru spent these last 10 years thinking that Satoru didn’t trust him, didn’t need to, because of the difference in their abilities. Why trust someone else when you need only rely on your own powers? Or, in the animated version, Suguru says,

“You want to talk about trust? I didn’t think I still had any of that left, with the shit I went through.”

Satoru left him alone when he “alone became the honored one,” breaking Suguru’s trust. From that point, he didn’t pay real attention to Suguru. When he asked Suguru “have you lost weight? Are you okay?” And accepted Suguru’s half-baked answer, that showed Suguru that Satoru didn’t really care. Or at least, wasn’t paying enough attention to know something was seriously wrong. Broken trust. Satoru had abandoned him and their bond.

Too late, Satoru recognizes this. And he makes his vow to raise the next generation to be strong allies so that no one gets left behind like Suguru or isolated and “special” like himself. You can even see it when he decides to put Itadori in the room right next to Megumi. He never wants it to happen again.

#jjk #jjk meta #jujutsu kaisen #satosugu #gojo satoru #geto suguru #stsg #suguru geto #satoru gojo #jujukai #jjk spoilers #satosugu meta #jujutsu kaisen meta #jujutsu kaisen analysis #satoru x suguru

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olderthannetfic · 3 months

Note

audience question: how did you approach having to explain jkr's descent into madness to people who are chronically online but aren't tapped into the major fandom community, without just sending them contrapoints' video? (i mean, i can, but i'd consider it as a last resort if they want further info)

context: my old college friend who is a hp fan (the usual childhood book geek backstory) recently bought the legacy game and i had to bite my tongue when they try to engage me with it. it's in the scope of our usual topics, which is just sending memes to each other and minding our own business in different fandoms, but now i feel like i should say something, except that opens up a can of worms because of the *waves hands* discourse surrounding it.

i'm not sure how to unpack this without me having to come out to them in some capacity first (which is something i've been planning to do for awhile now, i know i'm not obligated to). it's such a charged topic for a friendship that's built on daily posts of cat gifs and i'm not sure how to bring it up without seeming like i'm shaming them for it? it's astounding to me that they have no clue why 'they're not seeing any fanart of this character on twitter when they checked' and actually went to tumblr to find some, without bumping into any bullshit, but i guess the tags self-contain the topic so they don't get see any discourse against it.

tl;dr: should i even bring this up? or should i just let it die down? i feel kinda bad ignoring the topic, but it's also something that i would not prefer to engage with said friend because i don't want to spend my energy having to address it. (i should just send the contrapoints video, huh)

I think I would say something like "JKR turned into kind of a jerk over the years and it soured me on HP-related things." If they ask for details on her being a jerk, send the video link.

I don't think it's necessary to come out, nor do you need to elaborate a lot until they ask. You can get into the issues with the game itself if you want to, but if your primary aim is to get them to not talk to you about HP and/or to be aware that there's something going on with HP, you don't need to get into that level of detail.

The experience of not liking a creator anymore after they change or you find out things is pretty common. If you keep it more to "I feel sad now", that gives them less to get offended by or argue with and feels less like an accusation.

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danikamariewrites · 6 months

Text

My North Star

Cassian x reader

Summary: You and your siblings represent the eight points of your father, King Astraeus’, brightest star. After his death your seven siblings have come to the decision to banish you since you don’t agree with their way to rule. Sending you across space and time you end up landing in the Illyrian Mountains.

Warnings: violence, angst, fluff, and very long

A/n: based on this request

They had you dress in your armor. Had you strap your sword to your back. All to get rid of you. In your twenty-five years of life never once had you been a nuisance to your siblings. Being the youngest made you unseen and you had handled it with grace.

Never had you defied your father or the woman you are forced to call mother. Never once had you gotten in their way of ascending the throne.

Your siblings were all in agreement on how they wanted to rule. And who would question gods?

You are young, you’ll learn is something you always heard from the seven of them. But you didn’t want to learn. You wanted to change things. Make the world a better place for the people you ruled over.

Clearly, your older siblings did not like that idea. You wouldn’t be standing here with a portal to gods knew where at your back as they all looked down at you from the dias in the throne room. Guards surrounding you with their weapons drawn.

“I have been nothing but compliant all my life. Learning to live in your shadows as father favored all of you, never paying attention to me. You were all I had. And now you’re abandoning me because what? I won’t agree to Castor’s ruling?”

Your eldest brother sighed, looking bored as he spread out on the throne. The sight made you sick. He was lazy, arrogant, and cruel. He is the last person in existence who should be king. “What’s done is done little sister. I can’t have descent among the ranks. Our brothers and sisters are in agreement with me.”

Tears stream down your face as you realize what Castor was truly mad about. Were you truly being punished for something you had no control over? "That's not why you're getting rid of me, is it? You hate that I'm more powerful. If I'm still around our people will question your rule when they see me." Castor pounded his fist against the arm of the throne. He stood so abruptly the throne almost toppled over.

Guards and courtiers and even a few of your siblings were confused at the reaction you drew from him. Castor points a finger at you, the rage simmering on his face threatening to boil over. “You have no right to speak to me that way!” He stomps down the dias stopping at the line of guards keeping you from your family.

Castor takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm his temper. It’s too late though. He’s already ruined himself for the people who are supposed to show him blind loyalty. “You will hand over your sword before you go.” He said plainly. “No.” You say firmly, standing straighter, ready to defend yourself. If you were going to take something with you it would be the silver and pearl sword at your back. You forged it when you were fifteen before your first battle to match the bright silver armor you were wearing now. Like hell you’d give that up. It was imbued with your power. Castor would melt it down for its core and the beautiful thing you’d created would be gone.

The guards looked conflicted as Castor waved his hand for them to stand in attack position. You discreetly step back two paces, trying to get as closer to the portal before they strike. It was shrinking as Castor wasted time. You realize that you’d have to jump soon or die here.

“Give it here, little sister.” He holds out his hand, impatience running low. You shake your head vehemently. You take two more steps back. The cold breeze from the portal sending chills through the open spots in your armor. “No Castor.” You say trying to keep the shakiness from your voice. “You want me gone? Then all of me is going.”

The room around you fades. Closing the distance between you and the unknown, you leap before anyone can grab you. There’s a moment where you’re suspended in mid air. A light feeling taking over your body. Like you weigh nothing. Looking back you find the chaos of the throne room frozen. Castor lunging to grab any part of you he can reach. Guards mid-swing to strike you down.

You don’t have a chance to fully take in the scene before you're falling. There's just darkness as you tumble through time and space. You feel a pull in your stomach. It's unbearable. Your bones feel like they’re compressing. Before it gets worse the pain vanishes as you keep falling. And falling. And falling.

It felt like you were falling for hours. Days. Years. All sense of time and direction was gone. Left was up and Down was right. Tears from your eyes spilled upward, floating away from your face. You didn't know if it was from the wind whistling past or your fear of the unknown.

When you could finally see again you started slowing down. As if the universe was deciding where to put you. Taunting you with what could be.

Different worlds in all different periods of time flew by. Major cities that looked old and new. Gleaming towers touching the sky, people with and with out wings flying through the air. Lush green worlds with castles, some with odd architecture that seemed millennia away built into the land, others with flying ships coming and going. Worlds made entirely of water with structures just above the restless surface.

But the universe didn't stop at any of these places. If you could choose you don't know which world you would pick. You'd love to explore all of them if you could.

Time slowed again, bringing you to another world. The final one it seems. A glittering night sky came into view until it was the only thing you saw. Snow capped mountains appeared to get closer, the air chilly with a roaring wind.

Gasping, you realized this is where you were being dropped. The universe picked a world and it was this gorgeous, endless night. At least you'd have the stars. Maybe there would be new constellations for you to discover.

You tried to control the rest of your fall. Summoning your power, your hands eminated that familiar shimmering white glow. You could use the propulsion of the 'star beams'—you and your sister Vesper lovingly called them—to slow down. The light flickered like you couldn't fully connect to it. Your heart pounded hoping it was just a one-time thing.

It was not.

In fact your light seemed to dim every few hundred feet. You felt an odd buzzing rush through your body at what seemed like the five hundered feet mark. By three hundred feet your power fully flickered out on you.

Holding in your scream you braced for impact. You silently prayed the snow was deep enough to cushion you. Feeling the ground rush up at you, you screwed your eyes shut, not wanting to watch.

The snow was no help at all. You hit the hard, cold earth hard. You rolled over onto your back taking in deep breaths to help dispel the pain running rampant through your bones. To distract yourself from your shaking body you focus on the night sky.

The stars seemed so familiar but new. Even though your current situation sucked a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. You have a new night sky to discover. A new north star to navigate the land with.

Sitting up you move and crack your joints to get feeling back in your body. Now that your bones have stopped shaking you stand, stretching again.

You look around the mountain region and spot what you hope is a village in the distance. Lanters and fire light told you that the residents were still awake. Hope flared in your heart. Maybe this mountain village would be your new home. A smiple life but it would be yours and no one would try to control you.

——

Rhys felt the breach in the wards an hour ago. With every minute he wasted winnowing to Windhaven, telling Devlon, and tracking down Cassian and Azriel he was on edge. Anyone could have broken through. And that anyone could have any kind of power with a grudge or looking to destroy a city.

While waiting the High Lord donned his fighting leathers, strapping his sword to his back. His brothers came rushing up to him as he pulled the leather srap through it's buckle.

"Devlon sure took his time getting you two. Did he tell you about the wards?" Rhys asked, tension in his voice from the concern for his court. The pair shook their heads givinging their brother a worried look. “An hour ago the wards were breached. Whoever it was is up here in the mountains so they have a ways to go before the city. I want this done quietly so we don’t cause panic, ready?”

“Let’s go.” Cassian said, checking the glowing ruby siphons on the back of his hands. The three brothers spread their wings, taking off into the night sky.

——

Cutting your way through the forest the trees finally thinned out. You must be getting close to that village. Taking a pause, you lean against one of the thick tree trunks to stretch out your back. Your body still feels tight and achey from the fall. Gods, you’d kill to have a hot bath right now.

Letting go of the rough bark you wiped your hands together to get rid of the dirt. Continuing your trek up the steep mountain the sound of beating wings above you making you freeze. Not knowing what is attached to said wings you find it in your best interest to hide. And you better hide fast because they sound like they’re slowing down.

Running on silent feet you backtrack a few feet to the left to hide behind one of the larger trees. The sound of someone whooshing through the branches and landing, shaking your surroundings makes you hold your breath. Pressing your back to the tree trunk hard you will your powers to come back to you. That familiar light sensation in your body had noticeably dimmed.

If you had to fight you were terrified you’d have to rely on hand-to-hand combat or weapons. You weren’t at full strength, no way you could last.

Crunching footsteps got louder and louder as whoever was searching the woods drew closer. You had to make a decision and fast. Attack first or wait. The thing about waiting is that you can get too comfortable with your hiding spot. You let your guard down and someone surprises you.

Taking a chance you peek out from behind the tree. The thing with large membranous wings had his back to you. It looked like a male, male shaped at least. He could have a creature like face for all you knew. Something nasty and horrible or sharp teeth meant for ripping limbs from your body. You had never encountered anything like that on your home world but you always had a wild imagination.

Home world. What an odd thing to say.

The winged creature turned slightly, just enough so you could see his profile. Definitely not a sharp toothed monster. He seemed quite handsome actually. You wanted a closer look at him except every warning bell in your head was going off telling you to stay put.

His nostrils flared, sniffing the air. You quickly duck back behind the tree holding your breath once again.

A red blast shot through the tree just next to your head. You roll sideways, shooting to your feet. The male was closer now. Glowing red stones adorned his hands, shoulders, knees, and chest. They were pulsing with power as his face portrayed a warriors rage.

Holding your hands out at your sides, palms out, you willed your power back to you harder than you ever had in your entire life. To your relief, your hands glowed brighter than you had ever seen them. You felt the light in your whole being. It felt like it was emanating from your whole body.

The male looked frightened for a moment before snapping back into a battle stance. The dam you were keeping up on your rage at your family was breaking. If this male was looking for a fight you would give it to him. You bring your palm up to cover his chest in your line of sight.

A red shimmering shield absorbed some of the light, pushing the male backwards a few feet. Once the light died the rage on his face was clear. His teeth were bared at you and he let out a deep threatening growl. He started running at you drawing his sword.

You mimic his movements, bring the metal to clash in a loud ringing that shook your eardrums. It didn’t affect you as much as the male, who winced in pain. You didn’t hold back. You slashed and slashed and slashed. Hoping he’d fall soon.

You brought the male to his knees with a flash of your power and extra aggressive swing of your sword. Your blade sticks in his, creating a small notch. The surprise on his face changed to anger. He pushed back hard with a loud cry. You tried your hardest to dig the heels of your silver boots into the ground. The snow and frozen dirt making it impossible to find purchase.

He pushes you over a thick root causing you to lose balance. Calling to your power again you find it flickering out again. The white light dying as it reaches your finger tips. He notices and takes advantage. Elbowing you in the chest you fall the ground hard for the second time that night.

Before you can recover and fight back he dropped his knees down on either side of you, straddling your middle. Your instincts scream at you to start scratching and hitting him. But he acts like he’s being bothered by a fly as he bats your hands away. Catching your wrists in one hand he pins them above your head. You still struggle. You didn’t want to make it too easy.

Watching his face you noticed his eyes glaze over. His attention was on you, but it seemed like he was somewhere else. Taking advantage of the moment you attempt to knee him in the groin. He catches on to what you’re trying to do and moves to trap your legs tighter. You were now fully pinned under this hulking male.

There’s no way to get out of this. He’s far stronger and if you did break free he’d have no problem reaching out to pull you back. Or he could fly off with you. Then your chances at reaching the small mountain village would be zero. Your chances were looking pretty grim right now anyway.

As you stopped struggling and accepted your fate for right now. Adrenaline wearing off had the exhaustion of everything hit you. The bruises and stiffness from falling out of the sky. The ache in your chest from where the male elbowed you. Your arms were shaking from wielding g your sword. You are a certified mess.

Your vision began to go in and out. Between long blinks you saw two other figures standing over you. They were almost identical to the male on top of you. Almost. Even in your tired haze you could tell there was something unique about each of them. That they each held a special power. And then nothing.

——

You came to with a jolt. Feeling ropes tight around your wrists you started to panic. The door to the room you’re being held in opens with a bang. You wince and tuck your chin to your chest.

You had to get out. Escape somehow. You refuse to be locked away after escaping (well…being banished) from your own personal hell. How sad would it be if you traded your brother for another monster. Maybe you should’ve stayed. Continued being the silent, unquestioning sister and support Castor’s rule.

Looking up you see the three males from last night. You assumed everything happened last night since it was day time. You hoped it was last night.

The three look down at you with an odd curiosity. Like they’re dissecting you. You notice that glazed over look in all their eyes. As quickly as you noticed it their gazes refocus on you. The one in the middle who clearly carries himself like a leader steps forward.

“You’re a curious little silver thing. No one in the seven courts, or on the Continent for that matter, has claimed you to be their spy or warrior.” You raise an eyebrow at him, pursing your lips. Courts? The Continent? Just where exactly did you end up? The only positive you see right now is that the two of you can communicate. Hopefully you can clear things up and this male will believe your story.

You start to say something but the words get caught in your throat. Your mouth feels dry as you start to get anxious. What if they don’t believe how you got here? Would they just kill you? You had to stop catastrophizing. You’ll never talk if anxiety gets the better of you.

“I’m not from here. I had no idea where I was landing.” They all give you the same confused look. “From Prythian or another continent?” Ok, now’s your time to shine. Just drop that mind blowing piece of info on them and be done with it. “I’m from a different world.”

You bet if you knew them personally those expressions they are making would be priceless. The three males are completely dumbfounded. The one in the middle snaps back to his leader stance, something like curiosity and the knowledge of being right sparkling in his violet eyes.

“Please explain,” he said with a slight, confused smirk pulling at his lips. “Can I sit somewhere more comfortable? It’s a long story and I’m in so much pain.” You shouldn’t have mentioned the pain part but you are desperate for a cushy arm chair or a couch. A fluffy rug even. Anything but a rickety wooden chair and ropes that cut off your circulation.

He looks like he’s debating letting you. His hesitance makes you start your epic tale. “I was banished from my home, but it felt more like running before something bad happened.” The sincerity in your eyes makes up his mind. With a wave of his hand the ropes disappear.

Pushing yourself to stand you’re a bit wobbly. Now that you’ve rested you are starting to truly feel all the pain from last night. You should be fine in a day thanks to your accelerated healing. At least being part god from your father’s side was good for something.

The male who had been questioning you lightly grabbed your arms. Steadying, he leads you into a sitting room. Looking over your shoulder you see the room you were just in is no longer empty. The wooden chair was gone and bedroom furniture decorated the space. Curious. A place of magic then.

Stretching out on the large couch you let out a sigh. It feels good to be comfortable. The three males, still nameless to you, you realize, take up different seats around you. “I’m y/n, by the way.” “My name is Rhysand. You are already well aquatinted with Cassian,” Rhysand gestures towards the male with the red gems in his leathers, giving you a small two-fingered salute. “And this is Azriel.” He silently gives you a small nod in greeting, like you just entered their home and haven’t been their “prisoner” for the last twelve hours.

You tell Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian the story of your fathers passing, how you think your oldest brother murdered him, that he didn’t want you around anymore under the guise of not agreeing to his way of ruling. You did not give up the extent of your power. You still didn’t know if you could fully trust these three.

Rhysand then explained that you were now in the realm of the Fae. That there are seven courts in Prythian and fate had chosen the Night Court for you, the court he is High Lord of. You were blown away by the description of these courts. Wanting to explore them all.

After being told about his powers you let Rhysand into your mind. You wanted to establish trust and you knew how to fight off someone with telepathic powers. You could easily crush his mind if it came to that. Seeing that your story was true, and that you truly could not return home, Rhysand gave you a sympathetic look.

Days went by. The High Lord let you stay in his cabin until he thought of a permanent solution for you. The male you fought, Cassian, was staying with you. Not to watch you, Rhysand had reassured, to keep you company. It didn’t feel like it though. You still felt like you were tied to that rickety wooden chair.

Sitting around didn’t feel right to you. Learning there was a whole camp outside the cabin where a fighting style you had no idea about was being taught made you restless. You wanted to learn. Wanted Cassian to teach you.

You like talking with Cassian. During meals and at night before bed you would trade stories from childhood or fights you had been in. He was amazed you could fight so well and wielded so much power at twenty five years old.

Tension seemed to be growing between the two of you. Not bad tension. It was almost awkward. Like neither of you wanted to say the wrong thing. For the first time a male wasn’t speaking to you to climb a social ladder or to get to one of your family members. Cassian seemed truly interested in you, and you didn’t want to mess that up.

You couldn’t deny that he’s attractive. You have a craving for him. You want him to be yours. You want all of his attention. Plus he is everything you want in a male. Strong, good looking, a fighter, kind, and caring.

Over dinner that night you finally worked up the courage to ask Cassian if he would be willing to show you the camp and let you train. he had paused, thinking through his options. You didn’t know Illyrians, which scared him. Cassian would never forgive himself if anything happened to you. “I will ask Rhys if you can train. I’m sure that won’t be a problem.” Truthfully, he wanted you to stay in the safety of the cabin until your permeant solution was available. But he knew the reality of what you are. You’re a warrior, a fighter like him. And you would rather die than sit still.

Three days passed without an answer from Rhys. You had become impatient and irritated with Cassian’s answer each time you asked. “He hasn’t made his decision yet. But he will soon.” Soon. You were getting sick of that word. You could tell Cassian felt bad each time he didn’t give you the answer you wanted. He knows what it’s like to want to let the warrior out. To do your routine. To fight.

Making the decision for Rhys you dress in the fighting leathers Cassian had made for you. Adding your silver gauntlets to your arms and strapping your sword to your back. The leathers fit like a glove. Flexible and breathable. If only you could fully mix these with your armor. Then you’d have quite the battle suit.

You weren’t allowed to roam the village alone. Suspecting that was more Cassian than Rhys given the way residents of Windhaven were staring at you. Murmurs joined their curious looks. But you held your head high, keeping your pace calm as you look for the training rings.

None of them are Castor. He is not here. He cannot hurt you. You had been repeating those words to yourself more than you’d like to admit. Every night since you arrived in the Night Court sleep had been restless. Nightmares of Castor getting his hands on your sword or killing you or locking you up plagued you.

Cassian had been there, though. He sat with you, talked with you. One night, after a particularly horrible nightmare, Cassian sat with you on the couch letting you grip his hand. The two of you sat in silence for hours as his warm, rough hands grounded you.

He never asked questions. Never pushed you to talk about it. He let you take things at your own pace, which you were grateful for.

Your siblings or father or handmaidens never let you talk about things that bothered you. They all believed nightmares were silly things to dwell on. “Ignore it,” you had been told when all you wanted was comfort.

Clanging metal had you shaking the thoughts from your head. Especially the ones of Cassian. You find him in one of the training rings with his shirt off, sparring with another male that looks younger. The ring was surrounded by a group of males who all looked younger than him. You watch him spar, his muscles flexing and those wings move to help keep his balance.

Something you couldn’t get over was his tattoos. The black intricate swirls spanning his chest and arms left you breathless.

As Cassian blocked the males strike he struck the younger males abdomen with a fist, sending him sprawling in the dirt. As the male stands you find yourself in line at the edge of the ring. Cassian turns from the male to talk about everything his opponent had done wrong. He stopped short noticing you among the Illyrians. The rest of the group follows his gaze, those closest to you edging away. Cassian looks at you bewildered. Trying to tell you to go back to the cabin with his eyes.

“I got bored.” You say nonchalantly, giving him a small shrug. A male across the ring sneers at you. Good. You were looking to let off some steam.

Cassian opens his mouth to most likely tell you no until the male who sneered at you spoke up. “Since when did outside females get to join training?” He smirked, thinking he struck a nerve. You returned his smirk with your own. Taking a step over the chalk line. “If you want we can spar. Unless you’re afraid to lose to a female,” you taunt him. Anger flashed in his face before that cocky smirk returned.

“Fine,” he bites out, drawing his sword. From the corner of your eye you spot Cassian. He had a torn look on his face. Like he wanted to stop you but he couldn’t help but wonder what you looked like at full power. How truly unleashed you could get. Gods was he…turned on by this?

Yes. Yes, he absolutely is.

After this—he told himself—he would make his move. You were made for him. Literally fell from the sky for him. After that first fight Cassian knew he met his match.

Focusing back on the fight in front of you, you draw your sword. The pure silver blade and mother of pearl inlay gleaming in the afternoon sun. A collective gasp sounded from the group at the pure power of the blade.

The two of you face off in a ready stance. Cassian marks the start of the fight and you begin circling each other. He makes the first move, trying to rush you. You block, spinning out into a defensive stance to continue circling. This was taking too long. You wanted more action than this.

Spinning your sword you run feel speed, watching the cocky look melt from the bastards face. He rushes to block your slashes. Catching him off guard you knock the sword from his hand, sending it flying past the chalk line.

Something snapped in you. The male looked at you ready to brace the storm that brewed in your eyes. Driving your sword into the dirt you launch yourself at him. Landing a hard, unforgiving kick to his chest. Stumbling back a few steps he regains his balance, putting his fists up. You dodge each punch he throws at you.

After you counted six punches you could tell he was tiring himself out. Pathetic. When his fists were lowered you saw your opening. Throwing a right hook his jaw made a sickening crunch. Finally down on the ground you dropped all your weight onto your right knee, falling onto his ribs.

You couldn’t help but punch his face over and over and over and over again. You couldn’t stop seeing Castor’s smug face. That smiling, thinking he had won by getting rid of you. You didn’t stop until a dark power rumbled all around you. A deep, dark voice booming through the village.

“ENOUGH Y/N!” Rhysand was standing next to Cassian, who looked like he didn’t know what to do. His warm hazel eyes sparkling as he looked from your bloody fists to your wild face. Looking Rhysand dead in the eyes you land one more punch.

Shoving yourself off the male you stand at your full height. Rolling out your shoulders and neck. Letting the tension in your muscles fall away. Picking up your sword and walking out of the ring right up to the high lord the other Illyrian’s gave you weary looks. Worried that if they breathed wrong they would be on the ground and bloody next.

“I’m a god Rhys,” your tone cool and confident, “you don’t tell me to stop fighting.” As you walk back in the direction of the cabin you miss the look of Cassian is giving you. His hazel irises are practically in the shape of hearts as he watches you saunter off.

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