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sadnymi · 3 days

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「 ✦ One of your girls .✦ 」

[Theodore Nott x reader]

Summary: Theodore Nott was the love of my life, the one I'd trade my whole world for. But this summer, I yearned for a different role in his life, even if it meant becoming just one of his girls

Warning:fluff,angst,smut, oral (f!received), fingering, lying about virginity,(+18)

Words:8k

In this world of labels there are , "good boys" and "bad boys," Theodore Nott existed in a category all his own. like devil in disguise, but manlier. And definitely hotter by like a thousand degrees .

As I stood there, captivated by his interaction with a Gryffindor girl, two stark realizations crashed over me. First, I desperately needed to refine my Marauder mischief skills. And More importantly, I needed to bridge the chasm between myself and Theodore. This summer, I wouldn't just be his little sister's best friend; I craved a different role in his life.

Lana's voice, sharp and cutting through my reverie, jolted me back to reality. "Y/N, are you with me?"

"Forgive me, my thoughts wandered," I muttered, composing myself with practiced neutrality.

“I was just saying, I really want Dad to approve this environmental camp," she continued, her enthusiasm undeterred.

"Absolutely," I agreed, forcing a smile. "Those Larus birds undeniably deserve all the protection we can offer." However, my gaze remained tethered to Theodore and his seemingly animated conversation with the Gryffindor girl.

"Right?" Lana beamed. "Perhaps Theo or Christian could help us sway Father?" Lana suggested hopefully.

"An excellent suggestion," I managed, a barbed comment forming on my tongue.

Perhaps your brother would engage in more productive activities than fraternizing with the Gryffindor girl. But I swallowed the retort.

"Christian can be a bit overprotective, bless his heart," Lana began, "but I do believe the 'puppy-dog eyes' technique, as he calls it, might work on Theo," Lana mused cheerfully.believe

A pang of curiosity shot through me. Could this "puppy eyes" technique be effective on Theo as well? I stifled the urge to inquire.

As if sensing my scrutiny, I almost choked on a gasp when he turned, our eyes locking for a beat too long. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, he resumed his conversation with the Gryffindor girl. My mind conjured elaborate – and disturbing – daydreams of her demise.

"Are you alright?" Lana's voice held a hint of worry.

"Perfect," I muttered, the word a lie heavy on my tongue. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the backdrop of my escalating jealousy.

"Then let's proceed," she declared, taking my hand in hers.

The world became a blur as we walked, the proximity to Theo and his unwelcome companion amplifying my agitation. My pulse pounded in my ears, a relentless drumbeat against the backdrop of muted classroom sounds.

Finally, we passed them. Still, Theo's gaze lingered on me, a silent connection that sent a wave of heat through my body. Just as abruptly, , Then in a move that stole the breath from my lungs, the Gryffindor girl cupped Theodore's jaw, pulling him down for a rough, aggressive kiss. I averted my eyes, a wave of nausea washing over me.

“ EWWW “ Lana muttered, mirroring my own disgust.

“Perhaps," I ventured, my voice tight with unspoken emotions, "you should utilize those puppy dog eyes sooner before he gets distracted again “

Potions became a blurry mess of bubbling cauldrons and swirling fumes. Snape's usual scathing commentary faded into the background, as my mind replayed the scene on loop: Theo, his lips locked with the Gryffindor girl, a stranger who somehow managed to snag his attention. Her triumphant smirk as she pulled away felt branded onto my eyelids.

Jealousy gnawed at me like a rogue Flobberworm. Every stolen glance his way felt like a betrayal, a secret message only I could decipher. Was this what Lana meant by "puppy eyes"? Because right now, all I wanted to do was unleash my inner dragon and set the damn girl ablaze.

The Great Hall echoed with the boisterous chatter of lunchtime. As I joined my friends at the Slytherin table, a familiar warmth washed over me – camaraderie, yes, but something more potent simmered beneath the surface. My stolen glance at Theo, however, sent a jolt of conflicting emotions. He was already there, his dark eyes locked on mine for a lingering moment before he averted his gaze.

A playful tug on my braid brought me back to reality. Lana, a mischievous glint in her eyes, was trying to get me out of my misery that she can’t quite understand what gets me into

Mattheo, being his usual blunt self, decided to stir up some trouble, "Just want to make sure the rumors are true. Did our little Y/N break Cedric Diggory's heart?"he said, causing Theo's gaze to intensify on me, igniting a mix of excitement and nervousness within me.

"Sorry, what?" I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

"It's okay, y/n, we can see that you're at that age for those kinds of things. What puberty did to you can't go unnoticed,"

My cheeks burned a furious red. The air crackled with tension as Blaise's words hung in the air.

Before I could retort, a cold fury replaced Theo's usual nonchalance. "Shut the hell up, Zabini, before I make you."

His sharp tone silenced the table. I stole a glance at him, he looked relaxed despite his tone , his eyes locked in a silent battle with Blaise. And that was well- very awkward

Matteo, unfazed by Theo's outburst, pressed on. "Back to the broken heart thing, did you really ditch a date with Diggory?"

My cheeks burned under the scrutiny of the table. "It wasn't like that, he understood," I stammered, desperately trying to salvage the situation. "I just said I had to study."

Lana, oblivious to my boiling frustration, jumped in. "No, no, she's just being humble! Cedric was head over heels! He was moping around for days after she said no, his heart practically shattered. Still he can't seem to take his eyes off her today."

I shot her a glare that could curdle milk, but she just winked back, clearly enjoying the drama.

"Why'd you turn him down, then?" Blaise pressed, his amusement evident.

Theo, however, surprised everyone. "She's still too young for that," he muttered. Really? The audacity! My hand twitched, a silent promise of violence aimed at his handsome but infuriating face.

My temper flared. "First of all," I stated, fixing him with a hard stare, "I'm only a year younger than you. Second, I said no because it wouldn't be fair to either of us. I already have feelings for someone else."

A collective gasp rippled through the group.

"You never told me that!" Lana exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise.

"No," I said, trying to project a confidence I didn't entirely feel. My gaze locked with Theo's, daring him to look away. "I was planning on telling you… tonight."

"Who is this mystery man?" Matteo leaned forward, his tone laced with curiosity. "Do we know him?"

"No, you don't," I lied smoothly, a flicker of defiance sparking in my chest. "He graduated."

A wave of disappointment washed over Blaise's face. "Oooh, Y/N, you sneaky minx! Who knew you had that in you?"

The Hogwarts Express rumbled to a halt, signaling the end of the semester and the glorious (or dreaded, depending on who you asked) freedom of summer. Bidding farewell to Lana, whose eyes held a knowing glint that made me sweat, I trudged off the train, eager to reach the familiar comfort of my own home.

Living just two houses away from Theo and Lana meant constant proximity, which could be either a blessing or a curse depending on how things unfolded. The lie about a mysterious older boyfriend sat heavy in my stomach. It was a desperate attempt to buy myself some breathing room, a chance to navigate the confusing maze of emotions swirling within me.

The oppressive heat of summer hung heavy in the air, mirroring the nervous knot in my stomach. Lana's father had finally approved the conservation camp, and while I was happy for her, a pang of disappointment shot through me. That meant less time to figure things out with Theo.

Taking a deep breath I slipped into a summer dress – the kind that hugged my curves perfectly and left a trail of cool air on my skin.

Taking a deep breath, I crossed the two houses separating our homes and knocked on Theo's door. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. What was I even doing here?

The door creaked open, revealing Mrs. Finch, the Nott family housekeeper, her face etched with surprise. "Miss Y/N? What a surprise! Mr. Theo is the only one home, I'm afraid. Miss Lana's still out."

My cheeks flushed crimson. This was not the grand entrance I'd envisioned. "Oh!" I feigned surprise. "Goodness, how forgetful of me. I just realized I left something in Lana's room. Terribly sorry to bother you, Mrs. Finch."

The housekeeper's expression softened. "No trouble at all, dear. Just head on up, third door on the right."

With a mumbled thank you, I practically sprinted up the stairs, my heart thundering in my chest. This impulsive, poorly-planned visit was already spiraling out of control. Would he see through my flimsy excuse? Most importantly, what was I going to say to him once I was alone with him under the guise of borrowing something from Lana?

The familiar chaos of Lana's room swam before my eyes. Clothes littered the floor, forgotten textbooks sat precariously on the desk,I don’t know why she insisted that no one else but her clean her room when she barley do it

"Are you lost?"

The sound of Theo's voice cut through the mental fog. I spun around, heart hammering against my ribs like a frantic hummingbird. He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, his gaze lingering on me a beat too long.

And then, his eyes scanned me from head to toe, a slow, deliberate sweep that sent a jolt of heat straight to my core. Merlin's beard, I wanted to be on my knees (respectfully, of course). That summer dress, the impulsive visit - everything suddenly felt like a terrible, wonderful mistake.

"N-no," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "I, uh, just came to… borrow something from Lana." The lie tasted like ashes in my mouth, but I couldn't bring myself to confess my real motive. Not yet, anyway.

Theo pushed himself off the doorframe, taking a slow step closer. The air crackled with a tension that had nothing to do with the summer heat. "Is that right?" he drawled, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. His eye held an unreadable depth that made my breath hitch.

"Yes," I managed, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "She mentioned a book on… Larus migration patterns? I thought I might borrow it for some summer reading."

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. "Larus migration patterns, huh? Sounds like a fascinating read for a summer day."

His words were laced with a double meaning, and a blush crept up my cheeks. Was he teasing me? Did he suspect my real reason for being here?

The silence stretched, thick and heavy. My carefully constructed plan was falling apart faster than a poorly brewed Amortentia potion. But before I could stammer out another excuse, Theo surprised me with a soft chuckle.

"Well," he drawled, his voice softer now, "since Lana's not here, perhaps I could help you find the book."

The breath caught in my throat. Here I was, caught red-handed (or rather, red-dressed), and yet, Theo's amusement was oddly disarming. His casual demeanor didn't quite match the intensity I'd glimpsed in his eyes moments ago.

"Really?" I squeaked, my voice barely above a whisper. The air crackled between us, charged with a sudden shift in energy.

A slow smirk played on his lips. "Yeah, why not? Did you want someone else to help you, maybe?"

He took a slow step forward, his presence filling the room. I instinctively leaned back, my back hitting the wall with a soft thud. A thrill shot through me as his eyes lingered on my face, a storm brewing beneath the surface.

"He's not here, though," he drawled, the amusement leaving his voice. "So bad."

Confusion clouded my mind. "He?" I stammered.

Theo's brows furrowed. "Oh, your older, hot crush? That's what you said, right? So you're here all dressed up and making excuses for nothing." The smile that had been playing on his lips vanished completely.

A wave of panic washed over me. "Are you kidding me?" I blurted out, unable to contain my frustration. Heat crept up my cheeks. "Are you that blind?" just then I realized the depth of my mistake. He thought my crush was Christopher, his own brother!

He was close now, so close I could feel the warmth radiating from his body. His hands braced themselves on either side of my face, caging me in. My breath caught in my throat.

"Trapped?" he murmured, his voice a low growl.

If looks could kill, I would have been dead. Theo's expression was a mix of anger, hurt, and confusion. I reached out hesitantly, my fingers brushing against his cheek. Thankfully, he didn't pull away.

"It's not Christopher," I whispered, my eyes darted drawn to the tempting curve of his lips.

"Oh yeah?" he challenged, his voice husky.

I couldn't hold back any longer. This was it. With a surge of desperation, I cupped his face with one hand, the other finding its way to the back of his neck and I kissed him.

It was a moment of pure, unadulterated passion. I was kissing Theo it wasn’t a dream , feeling the heat and intensity of the moment wash over me. My lips on his, our breaths mingling, it was my first kiss, but that fact faded into insignificance. He was the only thing that mattered.

Panic briefly gripped me when he didn't immediately respond to the kiss. I pulled away, searching his eyes for any sign of reciprocation, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Fuck," he muttered, pulling me closer, lifting me effortlessly until my legs were wrapped around his waist. His kiss this time was harder, more urgent, our bodies pressed against the wall as he devoured my lips.

It was a hungry kiss, filled with raw desire and longing. I moaned into his mouth, unable to contain the pleasure that surged through me. As his tongue sought entry, I responded eagerly, my hand finding its way to his shoulder, the other tangling in his hair. It felt intoxicatingly good, every touch sending sparks of pleasure coursing through me.

He didn't stop, his kisses growing more intense, more mind-blowing with each passing second. I felt myself teetering on the edge of something powerful, something I had never experienced before.

When he finally pulled away, our lips still touching, he whispered, "We shouldn't do that." I leaned in, wanting more, desperate to recapture the fire he had ignited within me. But this time, he stopped me with a gentle hand on my cheek.

"We shouldn't," he repeated, his words laced with a battle between desire and control.

" You ... don’t want this?" I asked, desperation creeping into my voice.

"Fucking hell," he muttered, before claiming my lips once more in a kiss that left me breathless and wanting more.

He kept kissing me, then his lips dipped lower, trailing a path of fire down my neck. Each touch ignited a new spark within me, a desperate need for more. But just as quickly, he pulled away, his hand clamping over my mouth the moment a moan escaped my lips.

He released me with a ragged breath, fingers brushing my lips – a touch that felt both accidental and deliberate. "Don't fucking let me do that again," he growled, his expression unreadable.

"Theo..." My voice trembled, a choked whisper lost in the deafening silence.

"Don't," he cut me off, his voice laced with a raw emotion that sent shivers down my spine.

I ignored him, the dam of my emotions threatening to burst. "No, Theo, I do like you so much! No, I think I love–"

He slammed his hand down on the nearest surface, the sharp crack echoing through the room. "Stop talking! Stop fucking talking and get out!"

My heart plummeted to my stomach. I stared at him, disbelief etching lines on my face. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't the answer I'd envisioned.

"I said, get out!" he roared, his voice raw with something akin to despair.

My body reacted before my mind could catch up. Fear, a primal and cold sensation, gripped me. I couldn't stay there, not with that look in his eyes. Tears blurring my vision, I turned and fled. I ran blindly out of the room, my feet pounding against the wooden floorboards. I didn't stop until I was out of the house, gasping for breath on the front porch steps. My legs felt like jelly, my vision obscured by a torrent of tears.

After four days of crying in my room, watching romcoms, and indulging in ice cream, I had practically shut myself off from the outside world. Ignoring calls and messages, I had no intention of leaving my room anytime soon.

But then, my phone started ringing, and the name that flashed on the screen caught my attention – Blaise Zabini. Why was he calling me? I debated whether to answer or not, but curiosity got the better of me.

"Hello?" I answered tentatively.

"Hello, beautiful lady. What are you doing tonight?" Blaise's smooth voice flowed through the phone, surprising me.

"Did you mistake my number for someone else?" I asked, slightly bewildered.

Blaise chuckled. "No, Y/N, I'm calling you. There's a party tonight, and you should come."

I couldn't believe it. Blaise inviting me to a party? It seemed surreal, especially considering how distant I had been lately. "Is this some kind of dare?" I half-jokingly asked, recalling how Lana and I had once begged to be included in their circle last year.

"No, of course not. Lana is away at camp, and I figured you must be bored. Plus, you're old enough now. So, are you coming?" Blaise explained.

I was shocked but managed to say, "Yes."

"Good, I'll pick you up," he said confidently.

"Um, what should I wear?" I asked, feeling a bit out of my depth.

"Something hot for sure," Blaise replied, causing my mouth to drop open. Surely, there must be more to it than just small talk and an unexpected invitation.

I dragged myself out of bed, feeling a bit more alive than I had in days. The prospect of going out, even to a party, was both daunting and oddly exciting. I made my way to the bathroom, deciding that a hot shower would do wonders for my mood.

The water cascaded down my skin, washing away some of the heaviness that had settled over me. I washed my hair, taking extra care to make it look presentable. After all, Blaise had mentioned something about looking hot, and I wanted to at least make an effort.

Once out of the shower, I wrapped myself in a fluffy towel and stood in front of the mirror, contemplating my options. My wardrobe seemed to mock me with its array of dresses, each one a reminder of happier times. But tonight was different. I wanted to feel good, even if just for a few hours.

My eyes settled on a vibrant off-shoulder red dress, short enough to be playful yet elegant. It had been a while since I'd worn something so bold, but tonight felt like the perfect occasion. Slipping into the dress, I couldn't help but admire how it hugged my curves in all the right places.

With my hair styled in loose waves cascading down my shoulders, I turned to my makeup. Opting for a subtle smokey eye and a bold red lip to match the dress, I added a touch of highlighter to give my skin a healthy glow.

Just as I finished applying the last stroke of mascara, my phone rang again. It was Blaise, letting me know that he was waiting outside. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my purse and headed out.

A slow smirk spread across Blaise's face as he took in my entire outfit. "Damn, Y/N," he said, his voice dropping a cool octave. "You look goodness. Tonight, you're not just breaking hearts, you're shattering them."

"Thanks," I managed, trying to project an air of confidence I wasn't entirely sure I possessed.

The drive to the bar was a blur of conversation and upbeat music. Blaise gave me a heads-up that this was a different scene than the usual hangouts Lana and I frequented. No sticky floors or questionable punch here. This place oozed sophistication with a healthy dose of trendy vibes.

The closer we got, the bigger the butterflies became. "Just a heads-up," Blaise said casually, "Theo's gonna be there."

My eyes widened like headlights caught on high beams. "Why are you telling me this?" I blurted, my voice shaky.

Blaise held up his hands in mock surrender. "Whoa there, little firecracker. Easy now. Listen, I know what happened," he said, his tone gentle but firm.

He paused, his gaze meeting mine in the rearview mirror. "You've got two choices tonight," he continued, his voice low and serious. "Option one: Go in there, drown your sorrows in overpriced cocktails, and cry yourself to sleep like you have been for the past week. Option two: You walk in that door, head held high, and have the best damn night of your life. Show him what a colossal mistake he made. But more importantly, have fun. Forget Theo for the night. You deserve it."

My initial suspicion flared. How did Blaise know about Theo? Did Theo tell everyone, maybe even paint some twisted narrative of what happened? The worst-case scenario played in my head: everyone knowing I'd forced myself on him. I pushed those thoughts down, refusing to let them take root.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I asked, my voice laced with a hint of suspicion.

Blaise raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. "Oh, the nerve! Here I am, trying to be the ever-so-charming host, and you accuse me of… niceness?" He placed a hand dramatically over his chest. "Honestly, Y/N, I'm deeply wounded."

I couldn't help but laugh, the sound light and genuine. It felt good, a welcome change from the constant ache in my chest. As we pulled into the bar's crowded parking lot, I spotted a familiar face – the Gryffindor girl from school, the one with a permanent case of RBF.

Suddenly, the prospect of a night out filled with new faces and zero Theo drama seemed a whole lot more appealing.

"Alright," I announced, a determined glint in my eyes. "Going inside and having fun sounds way better."

Blaise's smirk widened. "Now you're talking," he said, finally pulling the car to a stop. "Let's do this."

We pushed through the heavy bar doors, the sudden wave of loud music and flashing lights hitting me like a physical blow. My eyes squinted against the assault, struggling to adjust to the dim, pulsing atmosphere. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, spilled alcohol, and something vaguely floral that I couldn't quite identify.

Then I saw it.

Bodies. Everywhere bodies. Couples intertwined on couches, limbs tangled in a way that left little to the imagination. People grinding against each other on the dance floor, clothes barely clinging to their sweaty forms. My mouth fell open in a silent scream.

"Are you kidding me, Blaise?" I shrieked, my voice barely audible over the pounding music. "Did you invite me to an orgy ?"

Blaise chuckled, his earlier cool persona replaced by something a little more… suggestive. "Not quite, sweetheart," he drawled. "But if you're interested, I know a guy…"

Blaise winked, then turned his attention to a group of women across the room. My stomach churned. Had he brought me here just to ditch me?

"Where are you going?" I demanded, grabbing his arm before he could slink away.

He looked back at me, a sly smile playing on his lips. "You wouldn't want to know, sweetheart. Trust me." Before I could argue, he was weaving his way through the crowd, leaving me stranded in a sea of strangers.

Panic clawed at my throat. I was completely out of my element, suffocated by the throbbing music and the overt displays of affection. Trying to navigate the throng of people felt like trying to walk through a mosh pit. Elbows jabbed, drinks sloshed, and muttered curses collided with the music. Every step forward felt like a battle.

Just when I was on the verge of tears, a familiar voice cut through the din.

"Y/N? Is that you?"

I snapped my head towards the source of the sound, relief washing over me like a tidal wave. There, standing a few feet away, was Cedric Diggory, a friendly face from Hogwarts. He looked as surprised to see me as I was to see him.

"Oh, thank God!" I exclaimed, practically throwing myself at him. He caught me with a smile, a steady presence in the swirling chaos.

"What are you doing here?" I blurted out, clinging to him like a lifeline. "I came with Blaise, but… well, he kinda ditched me."

Cedric's smile faltered slightly, but he recovered quickly. "Don't worry about him," he said reassuringly. "I can take you home if you want."

The offer was tempting, a safe haven from the overwhelming sensory overload. But then my gaze fell across the crowded room, landing on Theo. He was… well, making out with someone. Not just anyone, but two someones. His hands were everywhere, his lips moving feverishly between two very enthusiastic girls.

The sight of him sent a fresh wave of anger and hurt coursing through me. I wanted to scream, to cry, to set the whole place on fire. But instead, I did something completely unexpected.

"Actually," I said, my voice surprisingly steady, "Do you want to dance?"

A slow smile spread across my face as Cedric offered his hand. Relief momentarily eclipsed the anger simmering beneath the surface. He led me onto the dance floor, his touch light and hesitant on my waist. Compared to Theo's rough possessiveness, it felt… foreign.

"Theodora Nott," I muttered under my breath, the name a bitter curse on my tongue. Every fiber of my being ached to tear my gaze away from Theo.

Cedric's breath tickled my ear as he spoke, but my mind was elsewhere. Then, our eyes met. Theo's. His face contorted in a mixture of surprise and disbelief, like he'd seen a ghost.

Theo seemed momentarily speechless, his jaw clenched tight. Then, in a move that surprised even me, he shoved the two girls aside, their confused faces momentarily forgotten. He barged his way through the crowd, a determined scowl on his face.

"Diggory," he spat, his voice laced with venom.

"Nott," Cedric replied, a flicker of confusion crossing his features.

"Think I can take this from here?" Theo said, his gaze never leaving mine. "Thanks for keeping Y/N company."

Cedric glanced between us, a hesitant frown creasing his brow. Knowing I needed to act fast, I plastered a sickly sweet smile on my face.

"It's alright, Cedric," I chirped, my voice dripping with fake sincerity. "Theo's here now, and you know, practically like a brother to me."

Theo's jaw clenched tight, his anger barely contained. It fueled a fire within me, a perverse satisfaction at seeing him squirm. Cedric, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension, simply nodded and melted back into the crowd.

As soon as he was out of sight, I reached out and lightly touched Theo's arm. "Hello, brother," I purred, the word laced with mockery. "Enjoying yourself?"

He swatted my hand away, his voice tight with irritation. "What the hell do you think you're doing here?"

"Dancing, drinking, you know ," I replied, my voice light and carefree. "Hopefully getting some… you know, without having to share." I couldn't resist adding a pointed jab at his earlier display of affection.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "That's not the right answer, Y/N."

"Oh, so now you're the authority on what's right and wrong?" I scoffed. "Just get lost and let me enjoy my night."

"Not happening," he growled, stepping closer. For a fleeting moment, I swear his eyes flickered to my lips, sending a tremor of something unexpected through me.

"Not happening," he countered, his eyes flickering towards my lips for a fleeting moment.

A shiver ran down my spine, but I refused to let it show. "So you get to have fun, but I can't? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you were having a blast with your little… (here I paused, searching for the perfect comedic insult) …buffet." I forced a smile, pushing myself away from him in a playful, yet firm, manner.

He didn't get a chance to retort before a gasp escaped my lips. A clumsy dancer, fueled by who-knows-what concoction, careened into me, spilling the entirety of his drink down my dress. The scarlet fabric clung to my body like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination.

Theo let out a frustrated curse under his breath. "Damn it, Y/N, and your damn stubborn red dresses ," he muttered, before grabbing my arm and pulling me away from the crowd. His gaze darted around frantically, before settling on a nearby staircase.

The world spun a little faster as Theo pulled me through the crowd, his grip tight on my arm. We navigated through bodies and flashing lights, finally ending up near a darkened stairway leading upwards. He pushed open a door, revealing a large, beautifully furnished room – a stark contrast to the party raging outside.

"Stay here," he instructed, his voice low and urgent.

I rolled my eyes, annoyed at his bossiness but strangely comforted by his protectiveness.My mind was still reeling from the sudden alcohol shower, my thoughts fuzzy and disconnected.

Theo's presence alone was overwhelming. All the anger, hurt, and confusion I'd been feeling seemed to coalesce into a potent cocktail of emotions. My mind, however, wasn't processing things clearly. The red dress clinging to my body, the sting of Theo's earlier words, the memory of seeing him with those girls – it all swirled together in a chaotic mess.

Ignoring the instruction to stay put, I crossed the room and locked the door with a satisfying click. Grasping the hem of the ruined dress, I ripped it upwards in one swift motion. There, standing before a giant mirror, was me in all my red lace glory – bra and panties matching the ruined dress.

Theo stepped in, a black t-shirt clutched in his hand. His gaze locked with mine, a slow burn spreading across his face. He scanned me from head to toe, his eyes lingering on the shocking red lace bra and matching panties that were now my only attire.

For a moment, the room seemed to shrink, the music fading into a distant hum. The air crackled with a tension that sent a jolt of electricity through me.

"You're drunk, aren't you?" he finally managed, his voice rough with a mix of concern and something else – something deeper.

The question snapped me out of my haze. A defiant chuckle escaped my lips. "Not a single Shot," I replied, my voice surprisingly steady as I walked towards him.

The t-shirt fluttered to the floor, forgotten. His eyes were fixed on me, his face a mask of conflicting emotions. I stopped just inches from him, tilting my head up to meet his gaze.

"What are you doing?" he whispered, his face just inches from mine. The heat of his body radiated against mine, intensifying the buzz in my head.

"We don't have to be in love," I slurred, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. A part of me knew this was insane, But another part just craved his attention, his touch.

All I craved was his attention, his touch.

"I just wanna be… one of your girls tonight," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. A shiver ran down my spine as the reality of my words hit me. Was I really saying this? But then I remembered Theo with those other girls, the way they would whisper about him at school, the way they boasted about their "experiences" with him.

Suddenly, a strange sense of defiance mixed with a simmering desire fueled my next words. "I want what you give them," I confessed, my eyes locked on his. "The kind of thing they brag about to their friends for years."

He reached out, a single finger brushing against my cheek. My breath hitched at the contact.

"Give me tough love don’t hold back," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "Push me, choke me. Show me what it's like to be… yours even if it’s just for a night ." My voice dropped even lower. "Anything," I whispered, "just don't pretend you don't want me."

My words hung heavy in the air, the audacity of them making my cheeks burn. But before I could even think about backtracking, Theo surged forward, scooping me up into his arms. A gasp escaped my lips as he pulled me close, the familiar scent of his cologne washing over me.

He lifted me, wrapping my legs around his waist as he pulled me close. My hands instinctively found purchase on his broad shoulders, the heat radiating through his shirt setting my skin alight.

"That's wrong," he rasped, his lips brushing dangerously close to mine.

"It's not," I insisted, the defiance laced with a desperate plea.

He didn't answer. Instead, he kissed me. It was a hard kiss, desperate and hungry, as if he was trying to erase everything that had come between us. My body melted against his, all thoughts fleeing my mind except for the fierce press of his lips against mine.

He carried me across the room, depositing me onto a large table. pulled away after what felt like an eternity, his eyes blazing with an intensity that sent a tremor through me. He pushed a stray strand of hair from my face, his eyes searching mine. "I'd hold onto something, if I were you." he murmured, his voice thick with possessiveness that both terrified and excited me.

My fingers brushed against his face, his warm breath ghosting over my lips as he leaned down.

His hand moved down my body, a slow, deliberate caress that sent shivers erupting across my skin. His fingers grazed my thighs, a light touch that somehow managed to ignite a fire within me. My breath hitched, a moan escaping my lips as desire battled with the remnants of reason.

His lips brushed against my ear, his voice a husky whisper against my sensitive skin. "Choose a word," he murmured, his breath sending shivers down my spine.

I nodded numbly, unsure if I would even be able to speak if I needed to.

"Red," I managed to whisper, my voice laced with desire as his lips trailed along my neck, eliciting a soft moan from deep within me.

"Fucking red again," he muttered, his lips pressing against my skin with a hunger that ignited a fire within me. I arched my neck, offering him more access, more of me.

"You use this if it gets too much, understood?" he said, his voice commanding. I nodded eagerly.

He continued to kiss my jaw and neck with an intensity that left me breathless. My hand tangled in his hair, urging him closer. When he bit down on a sensitive spot on my neck, I couldn't contain a scream of pleasure.

His hand cupped my core through my panties, and I instinctively gripped his shoulder, my body responding to his touch. I had never experienced anything like this before, but I couldn't admit that to him.

"Have you done anything like this before?" he asked, his breath hot against my earlobe. I moaned softly as I lied, nodding in response.

"Yes," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the rush of sensations.

He parted my legs forcefully and held my jaw in his hand, locking eyes with mine. "You did?" he questioned, a hint of possessiveness in his tone.

I nodded again, unable to speak as desire coursed through me.

"He's dead, whoever he is," he declared, sending a shiver down my spine. His fingers slipped inside my panties, and I gasped at the sudden intimacy, my body responding eagerly to his touch.

"Theo," I managed to gasp out, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Yes, baby?" he responds, his voice deep and husky. The way he says "baby" sends shivers down my spine. It feels too good, too right, felt like a sweet caress to my soul.

"You can do whatever you want to me," i whispered, my fingers tracing his jawline. "Anything."

He responds by parting my lips with his finger leaning down to take my lower lips into his kiss. It's so soft, so gentle, that I feel like I've been transported to heaven. His tongue enters my mouth at the same time he touches my clit, and I moan.

He rubs my clit in gentle circles, and I hold onto his shoulder, digging my nails into his skin. He pulls away from the kiss, my lips are still on his, and I moan into his mouth. His tongue continues to explore mine as his fingers work their magic.

"Oh Merlin," I cry out, and he smiles against my cheek.

"Not Merlin, baby, but me," he whispered against my cheek, his touch sending me spiraling further into ecstasy. He added a finger inside me, and I cried out, my back arching with pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so tight. You sure you've done this before?" he questioned, a hint of disbelief in his voice. I've done this before, in my dreams, with him. I bite my lip to keep from moaning too loudly, and he looks displeased with that.

"Keep making those sounds, I love the sound of your voice," he says, and I do it again. He stops kissing me” you did that again and i stop, understood? “ I nodded immediately.

He’s not done yet. He pushed my bra strap down, placing kisses along the exposed skin.

His fingers start to move faster, as he kissed me, swallowing all my moans. He adds another finger, and I scream, my back arching again.

I bite my lips without even noticing and he slowed his movements I hold onto his hand fast, afraid he'll stop.

"Please don't stop, I'll be good, I promise," I beg, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Fuck, say it again," his gaze intense with desire.

"I'll be good, Theo," I repeated, my voice a desperate plea.

He moves his fingers faster in response, hitting a spot inside me that makes me see stars. He keeps hitting it, over and over again, while circling my clit.

"I'm going to--" I try to say, but I can't finish my sentence. Pleasure consumes me, and I scream his name. He plays with my hair, pushing my tears and hair away from my face.

"I know, sweet girl," he murmured, his words pushing me over the edge into a mind-blowing orgasm."So sweet, so good."

He watched me with intense desire as I came, his fingers never ceasing their movements. "And so fucking hot," he added as he looked at me while experiencing his own release.

“you look so pretty when you’re cumming for me,” he murmured, placing soft kisses on my neck

I breathed heavily as he pulled his hands from me, bringing his fingers to his mouth and savoring my cum. "You taste so sweet, baby," he murmured, his gaze locked on mine.

He cupped my face, placing soft kisses on my lips, again and again. "So sweet, so angelic,"

With a gentle touch, he lifted me from the table, carrying me softly and placing me on the bed. His face was close to mine, his nose brushing against mine, and he kissed me deeply. I moaned as he opened my bra clips, leaning down to place a soft kiss on my jawline, then my collarbone.

He traced his way down, kissing every inch of my body until he reached my breasts. I closed my eyes as he put a soft kiss on them, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Eyes on me, baby. Don't shut them," he commanded, and I nodded, my breath heavy. I looked at him, my love for him overwhelming.

With each lick and kiss, I moaned louder, the pleasure building with every touch, and I arched my back, my fingers gripping the sheets.

With a final lick, he traced his way down, kissing every inch of my body. He kissed my stomach and looked up at me, his gaze intense.

He parted my legs, the sight of him between them is my idea of heaven. I nodded, and he pulled my panties down.

As he pulled my panties down, I felt a rush of shyness,"You will keep them open," he said, and I nodded again , my breath hitching.

"Good girl," he praised, his lips trailing kisses along my thighs. I couldn't resist running my fingers through his soft hair, pushing it from his face.

"You want rough love, you say?" he stated, using my own words against me.

"Yes," I moaned, my mouth gasping as I felt his mouth on my wet pussy.

"And you keep listening to what those girls say?" he asked.

"Yes, and it hurts," I managed to say.

"So I have to make up for it then, baby, don't you think?" he asked,

He didn't waste time. His tongue explored my folds, and it felt strange but in a good way. He licked and sucked, and I felt like I might explode.

He kept doing it, for what felt like an eternity. He kept my legs open, and my back ached. I cried heavily, it was the best thing I had ever felt. I could feel my body already over the edge.

"Don't cum," he said, and I shook my head. He continued eating me out, so much. I could feel his fingers inside me, and I screamed again.

"Please," I begged, unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure he was giving me.

"You cum, and it's over," he warned, his finger entering me gently.

I held onto his shoulder tightly, my body teetering on the edge. "Say the word, and I'll stop," he offered.

But I couldn't bring myself to say it. "No," I managed to whisper, my voice filled with need and desire.

His tongue flicked my clit, and I felt my orgasm building. I screamed his name, and he kept going, pushing me further and further over the edge. I screamed again, and again, and again. I couldn't take it anymore, and I came hard, my body shaking with the force of it.

He looked up at me, his lips glistening with my juices.

I was still trying to catch my breath from what just happened as Theo's words registered in my mind. "You are a virgin," he said, and I shook my head fast, trying to dispel the shock.

"No, no, I'm not. The boys I've been with before weren't experienced," I managed to say, feeling a rush of embarrassment at my slip of words. Why did I say "boys"?

Theo's gaze held fire as he processed my words. "Boys?" he repeated, his voice tinged with something I couldn't quite decipher.

I immediately felt the need to defend myself. "You don't think I'm attractive enough to be with more than one boy in my life?" I asked, a hint of defiance in my tone.

"Quite the opposite," he assured me, but his expression remained serious. "I want to know who dared and did that," he added, his eyes searching mine.

I bit my lip nervously, realizing the implications of what I had unintentionally revealed. Boys were afraid to pursue Lana because of Theo's reputation, but the way he reacted made me wonder if he wasn't threatening the boys for just getting close to lana .

"You can't just control who I can be with, Theo," I said, surprised at my own boldness.

"I think I can," he asserted firmly.

I took a breath, trying to calm the tension that crackled between us. "I won't mind," I said softly, my voice pleading. "I would do anything to please you. I would do anything you ask me to."

"Stop talking like that, y/n," he ordered, his tone strained.

"Okay," I acquiesced, sensing that I had crossed a line.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath, clearly struggling with his own emotions.

I reached out and touched his hand that was on my face, trying to ease the tension. I smiled while kissing his hand, then surprised both of us by putting one of his fingers inside my mouth and sucking on it gently.

"You are going to be the death of me," he muttered, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

"I need you, Theo, all of you, even just for the night, please," I pleaded, desperate for him to understand.

"Don't cry, unless it's from the pleasure I give you," he said, brushing away my tears gently.

I propped myself up on my elbow to get closer to him, craving his touch and his reassurance. He kissed me again, and in that moment, I felt like I could live in this bliss forever.

He reached for a condom, and I tried not to show my nerves as he prepared himself. His size was daunting, and I couldn't help but wonder how it would fit inside me. My head hit the pillow again as he spread my legs, his hardness teasing my entrance.

He entered me slowly, and I cried out as the pain shot through me, tears streaming down my face. "You are a fucking virgin," he exclaimed, his own frustration evident.

"It's not a fucking game, y/n," he continued, his tone softer but still edged with tension.

"I'm sorry, please do something," I pleaded, feeling overwhelmed.

He wiped my tears away, his features softening. "Fuck, baby, don't cry. It will get better, I promise. Just relax," he reassured me, his voice soothing.

"Breathe, it's just me," he added, placing kisses on my forehead and then my cheek.

"I think... I think you can move now, please," I managed to say, trying to regain my composure.

He held my face in his hand while the other supported him as he moved slowly, allowing me to adjust to him. I closed my eyes, focusing on the pleasure and the connection between us.

"You want fast, I can take it," I said, unsure if I was ready but wanting to prove myself to him.

"It's not a competition, y/n. You don't have to prove anything, baby,"

"The girls you've been with, they must have..." I started to say, but he cut me off.

"They didn't matter. You do," he said, surprising both of us with his confession.

He settled into a rhythm that felt perfect, and I closed my eyes, reveling in the sensations. His thrusts ranged from slow and tender to fast and intense, driving me wild with pleasure.

"Talk to me," he urged, and I struggled to form coherent sentences amidst the pleasure.

"It feels... good," I managed to say, my words coming out in fragmented breaths.

"Yeah?" he questioned, and I nodded, unable to articulate just how amazing it felt.

He increased his pace, and I arched my back, meeting his movements eagerly. "What about this?" he asked, his touch sending waves of pleasure through me.

"Do it again," I begged, wanting more of him, more of this intense pleasure.

He obliged, and the pleasure intensified, pushing me closer to the edge of ecstasy. I moaned and cried out his name, lost in the sensations that only he could evoke.

He thrust a few more times, then finally reached his own peak, his body collapsing slightly against mine as we both caught our breaths.

After a moment, he pulled out and disposed of the condom, then lay beside me.

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. I was afraid to talk afraid to ruin what we just had, My hand hovered in the air, reaching for his face, but Theo stopped me, his grip surprisingly tight on my wrist.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo against the backdrop of my racing thoughts. Please, no. Not the cold shoulder again.

" The- Theo," I whispered, my voice trembling, but he pushed my hand away before I could say more. His sudden change left me feeling lost and vulnerable, like I had done something terribly wrong.

"You… sore?" he finally spoke, his voice strained.

I blinked, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. The Theo who had been making love to me just minutes ago seemed to have vanished. This was the cold, distant Theo I knew all too well.

"A little," I managed to whisper, my voice cracking.

"Then get dressed," he said curtly. "I'm taking you home. Your big night is over." his words cutting through me like knives. I tried to speak, to explain, but he silenced me with a stern command. "Not a word, y/n. Not a fucking word."

He got out of bed and started putting on his clothes, tossing a t-shirt and his jacket in my direction. As he grabbed my phone and things, I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. It was as if everything we had shared meant nothing to him.

As shaky legs carried me to my feet, I pulled on the clothes, tears blurring my vision. A choked sob escaped my lips, and another, and another.

"Congratulations, Y/N," I whispered to myself, my voice raw with emotion. "You're officially one of his girls."

"Congratulations, y/n. You’re officially one of the girls," he remarked, his words cutting deep into my already wounded heart.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Part 2?

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys x you #theodorenottsmut #theodore nott #fluff imagines #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott masterlist #theodore nott smut #theo nott

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onlyhuis · 3 days

Text

drenched

member — junhui x f reader genre — smut word count — 2.4k synopsis — the pool isn't the only thing that gets jun all wet. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, oral (reader receiving), squirting, body worship, pussy drunk jun, mentioned that reader wears a bikini (+ other clothes), they're so horny for each other it's actually just gross notes — requested by anon for my 🐈 1k event — thanks to @onlymingyus for looking over this for me <3 sorry the synopsis is boring asdhgsj i couldnt think of a cooler one. also very very sorry again that it's taken me so long to get to these old requests but i hope you enjoy! please be sure to reblog with comments or send an ask if you liked this :)

if there's only one thing in this world that jun is obsessed with, it's your pussy.

practically every night he comes home, throwing his bag on the chair and pulling you onto the couch, begging you to let him eat you out, just really quick before dinner, please? i'll make you cum so fast, promise, just let me have ten minutes with you.

most of the time he slides your pants down and finds you already wet, knowing the kind of mood he'll be in when he gets home. it's almost impossible to force your mind out of the gutter when you can't stop picturing him kneeling between your legs, his dark brown eyes turned even darker with lust as he watches your face and every single tiny little reaction you have to him.

it's not your fault that you really can't help it if your mind wanders during the day, sending a shiver down your spine every time you think about how desperate he is for you. he'll never pass up the opportunity to bury his fingers inside you, moaning about how good it feels to have your cunt clenching him so tight and how pretty your legs look as they tremble around him.

jun loves nothing more than how wet you get and he'll clean you up with his tongue, his cock throbbing because he knows you're like this for him and him only. he'll gladly spend hours between your legs, groaning about how you're straight out of his dreams; what other explanation could there possibly be for the fact that he gets to come home to the prettiest girl he's ever seen every single day? not only that, but that you let him play with you whenever you want? he feels like he's died and gone to heaven every time you spread your legs apart and let him spend as much time as he wants in that spot.

of course, he has other favorite things, too. he loves fucking you from behind so he can see your gorgeous ass bouncing in front of him. he loves laying back and letting you do whatever you want to him, pushing his shaft between your breasts and grinning when he covers your face in his cum. but nothing compares to having his face smushed in your pussy, his skilled tongue and long fingers reaching places inside you that you didn't even know existed before you met him.

tonight is no different than every other night that he comes home and begs for your pussy. except this time he's got one thing and one thing only on his mind, and it's going to drive him insane if he doesn't have you right this second.

the first time it happened it caught you off guard. your cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment as the drops rolled down his abs coating the both of you in liquid, your legs still wrapped around his waist when he stops thrusting. you started to apologize, until jun lets out a long, low groan and tells you don't you fucking dare apologize for the hottest thing he's ever witnessed in his whole goddamn life and now he's made it his life's mission to making you squirt as much as is physically possible.

you didn't even know you could squirt at all before jun, but he brings a side out of you that you didn't know was there. a side of you so absolutely insatiable, like an unquenchable thirst, and now that it's been unlocked you're addicted to it.

with the rising temperatures and clear, sunny skies that have come after the rain and cold, it's obvious that summer is quickly closing in. it's one of his favorite seasons for many reasons, but the main one is that hotter weather means seeing you in more revealing clothes.

he had never been the type of guy to go feral at the sight of an ankle or an exposed shoulder, but around you it's like he loses all control. the way your shorts hug your ass—jean shorts, pajama shorts, bike shorts, any and all of them. his mind goes blank and all he can imagine is your perfect pussy hidden so teasingly from his view, and he'll do anything to get a taste. teasingly, because you know exactly how he gets and you love to play into it just to make him even more riled up.

you've started buying shorts that are just a little bit too small, just a little bit tighter that show another extra inch of skin. and you grin in satisfaction every single time he tears them off of you and pushes his hand down past the waistband to feel how soaked you are… until he wipes that smile right off your face with just a simple brush of his fingers.

the same goes for your shirts, too. the crop tops that expose your tummy; he loves to run his fingers over your skin, and the short length makes it so much easier for him to slide his hands up to feel your breasts. and don't even get him started on the tank tops; he feels like a virgin all over again, unable to stop his cock from twitching in his pants. when he sees that little extra bit of cleavage sitting so perfectly.

god, he loves every fucking thing about your body. but there is, however, one downside to the summer season.

okay, so it's not exactly like they banned him from the public pool, but they did tell him (in not so nice words) to stop feeling up his girlfriend in the locker rooms, and now he's too embarrassed to ever show his face there again. which honestly is more than fine by you, because if your hand wasn't down his swim shorts jerking him off as you lazily sat beside him in a chaise lounge, then was it really even a good day?

but besides that, the problem is that he can't see you near water without thinking about making you squirt. there hasn't been a single time when you've been out on the backyard patio, drops of sweat glistening on your skin from the summer heat as you hold a garden hose in your hand watering the tomato plants, that he hasn't wanted to push you against the side of the house and take you right then and there. to curl his fingers in your pussy until his hand is more soaked than the vegetables.

or like the time you both stayed at your parents’ house for a weekend while they were on vacation. he'd found you sitting out by the pool reading your book after you've just finished swimming, and the drops of water on your thighs that hadn't yet dried from the sun had reminded him too vividly of how you looked after he made you squirt with his cock. that day you'd needed a second shower, and it wasn't from the chlorine in the pool.

if your mind is in the gutter when you think about him, then his mind is in a place further than hell when he thinks about you.

so really, you can't blame him for tonight. you can't get mad at him after you sent him pictures of the pretty new bikini you'd bought for the upcoming cruise you were going on next month. but not just pictures of the bikini; pictures of you wearing it, your knees spread temptingly in a way that you knew for a fact would get him hard as a rock in seconds.

he's pissed, but more than that he's needy, because he already had to jerk off in the bathroom at work because he couldn't get his hard-on to go down any other way. his own fist will never compare to how good your pussy feels against his face, so it seems as good a place as any for you to start making it up to him for your bad behavior.

he barely gets the front door closed behind him before he's pushing you against the wall, his fingers clawing desperately at your sides as his lips capture yours. it's hot, he’s hot, and the temperature outside has nothing to do with it.

even the air conditioning in your house can't cool you down as he drags you by the waist to your shared bedroom, telling you it would be in your best interests to be waiting naked by the time he comes back with towels because he's not feeling very patient tonight.

you love it when he gets like this, and you grin triumphantly as you pull your panties off and leave them hanging off the edge of the bed, the glistening wet spot on them purposefully noticeable. you already know that you won't be leaving this room until the towels and sheets beneath you are equally soaked, and just the thought alone makes you dizzy.

the grin on jun's face is wide enough to rival yours when he comes back to find you laid out so prettily on the bed, on display for him like a gourmet fucking meal.

you lift your hips for him as he spreads out a towel beneath you, kneeling at the foot of the bed with your thighs on either side of his head. just one look at your dripping folds and he's already gone, throwing your legs over his shoulders and digging his fingers into your thighs to spread you apart even more for his eager mouth.

you've had jun's mouth on you more times than you can keep track of, but every single time still feels like the first. no matter how often he does it, you don't think you'll ever be prepared for the first lick, when he flattens his tongue to cover as much of you as possible at once before he begins.

the way he immediately and easily finds your clit, sucking messily before moving lower to slide through your folds, is always enough to bring you right up to the edge, but it doesn't last. it's a constant battle between making you cum as fast as possible, or prolonging it and moving around until you can't take it even for one more second and your orgasm is ten times stronger.

this time he chooses the latter, but you already had a feeling that that's how things would go. he's focused, honed in on your pussy; he is going to make you squirt all over his face, and if you don't think that's a guarantee, then you'd be sorely mistaken.

it's not the first time you've played this little game with him: sending suggestive photos and texting flirty messages, until you inevitably end up under him with enough orgasms to last you a week. but it's never enough to last, of course, and it's not long before you do it all over again.

he likes to act like he's teaching you a lesson, but you both have been through this routine enough times to know it's the thrill that keeps you coming back more than the need for punishment. you could always just ask him, but where's the fun in that? it's much more exciting to push his buttons and let him take over. it would almost be funny how his reaction is exactly the same every single time, if your reaction weren't also exactly the same. it's a habit you fall into together, but you wouldn't trade it for anything.

jun's fingers slide up your body, stopping at your waist to grab you and pull you harder against his nose. it's impossible not to let yourself get lost in it, moaning and threading your fingers in his hair as your pussy throbs in his mouth.

he points his tongue at your clit once more and he doesn't let up until your thighs start to shake, your breath coming out in shallow gasps. you're close and he knows it, almost even better than you know it yourself because he's spent so much time between your legs that he knows how to read your body like an open book.

your fingers in his scalp squeeze tighter, pushing his head further into you, and he groans at the feeling. he loves how quickly you get fucked out from his mouth alone, that you’re barely even processing how roughly you're moving his head because your body is on fire from the stimulation.

he'd live and die in your pussy if he could, and that's exactly what he plans to do tonight as his tongue flicks faster and harder. he can feel the wetness already gushing out of you and he knows you're right there, ready to give him what he so desperately wants.

with one final suck to your clit you go rigid and your muscles release, whimpers and whines flowing from your lips like liquid as you cum. it drenches his face, running down his cheeks and his chin and soaking his hair.

he drinks you up like a starved man, like he's been wandering alone in the desert and finally found his oasis. your head rolls back and your body writhes under his hands, but his grip is too tight and he is far too committed on getting every last drop from you to allow you to squirm out of his grasp.

it's overwhelming nearly to the point of pain but you don't want him to stop, you desperately need him to keep going until you're drained. and that’s one of the best things about jun, is that by now he can practically read your mind and he can tell when you need more and when you don’t.

he can tell what you want without even having to ask, so he reaches up and squeezes your hand in his as he looks up from between your legs, meeting your eyes and giving you that look that makes you shiver because you couldn’t imagine anyone else but him in this position. you don’t want to stop, not yet, and he nods at you knowingly with a hazy little grin and slides his tongue right back where you want it.

he’s more than willing to spend the rest of the night kneeling in front of you until you’re spent, if that’s what you want. honestly, he’s willing to spend the rest of his life there, too.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 15 hours

Text

That's My Man

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~500

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Spencer gets a haircut and you have a most pleasant reaction to it.

Square Filled: holidays (2023) for @cmbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

It’s been an entire month since you’ve seen your boyfriend but he’s back now. He spent Christmas and New Years with his mother back in Las Vegas while you stayed with your family in Virginia. You two are still so new that you haven’t had the chance to meet his family, and you weren't going to let your first meeting be the holidays.

If and when you’re going to do it, you want to do it right.

While the holidays might be over, the snow is still coming down in waves, making this a white winter. Snow is probably your favorite kind of weather because you get to create angels and snowmen and forts and anything else you want. You want to do that and go ice skating with Spencer tomorrow when the sun is out but for right now, you’re going to have a movie marathon.

He’s staying over for the entire weekend and you can’t be more excited than you are right now.

“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice comes from the front hallway. The door opens to face a solid wall fifteen feet from the door. To the left is the kitchen and to the right is the living room. “I’m here!”

You gave him a key pretty early on because you already knew he was the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. It’s one of those things where you just know. You love him so much and you don’t want to waste any time with him.

“In here!” you call from the right. Spencer shrugs off his jacket and hangs it on the hook in front of him before closing and locking the door. He walks into the living room and you turn to greet him when a confused frown sits on your face. “Why are you wearing a beanie?”

Spencer hates hats. He doesn’t like the feel of them or how he looks in them. Why is he wearing a beanie? He hasn’t all winter.

“I don’t know. I liked how it looked on me.”

“Mmhmm.” You get up and walk over to him. “Now what’s the real reason?” He looks shy as if he’s embarrassed to tell you. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is fine. Just… don’t laugh, okay?”

“Okay.”

He takes off his beanie and your jaw practically drops to the floor. He messes with his hair to make it look good but you’re fixed on that the fact that he got a haircut. He doesn't have long curly hair anymore. It’s short and slightly spiked. There are longer pieces in the front but he’s cut it all off.

God fucking damn. He looks so goddamn fine.

“Please say something,” he sighs, unable to take the silence anymore.

“Oh, my God.” He lowers his head knowing you must hate it. “Look at my man!” He snaps his head up as a slight blush creeps up his neck. “Damn, you look so good! Is that Spencer Reid? My gorgeous man?”

“Okay, stop,” he smiles, blushing profusely. You jump into his arms and kiss his face all over, and he tips his head back and laughs. “Okay, okay, okay!”

You pull away with a loving smile and keep your arms wrapped around his neck.

“You look very handsome.”

“Thank you,” he smiles.

Choosing you has got to be the best thing he could have ever done for himself.

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#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fiction #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fan fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #cm #cm fic #cm fanfiction #cm fanfic #cm fluff

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pshcomforts · 3 days

Text

➳ always | psh.

idol!sunghoon x fem!reader

“i don’t want things to change, pray they’ll stay the same”

synopsis: you and sunghoon celebrate your 100 day anniversary!

warnings/content: written in third pov. fluffy fluff!!! it gets a teeny tiny bit suggestive but nothing happens. hoon and reader love to tease each other! reader also doesn’t do well with affection (lol). nicknames — gorgeous, loser, idiot, pretty. not proofread.

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 2.0k

a/n: this oneshot is in support of my followers reaching 500+ and bc i love you guys! thank you for always showing support one way or another, whether you comment/reblog or you’re a silent follower, you guys have made my account grow so much regardless! forever grateful for each and every one <3 so here’s a happy and comforting fluff!

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: always by daniel caesar

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

2:22 ─────────────|────── -1:22

the day dawned over as sunrise started to peek through the sheer window curtains, awakening y/n.

her eyes cracked open little by little, quickly searching around the room for her phone.

soon enough, the device was in her grasp — looking over the notifications received through the quiet night. a few text messages were shown here and there from her friends and her boyfriend, who was already gone due to his busy idol life.

then, a sudden notification had caught her eye.

୨⎯ don’t forget! 100 day celebration with hoon ׂׂૢ ⎯୧

y/n’s eyes sparkled with joy at the reminder. mind filled with exciting bliss in the thought process of finally getting a day off at work to frost cakes for fun with her boyfriend.

her body basically jolted from the built up anticipation, jumping up from bed to get a start on making the homemade cakes.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

as hours passed and the sun was setting down, sunghoon had finally reached the time to leave practice.

he quickly bid his members goodbye, leaving hybe building to get to where he called home.

“y/n?” he yelled after approaching inside the apartment.

instantly, the boy was hit with the smell of baked sweets — creating a lightly approved hum to be heard.

“gorgeous?”

his call was more worrisome now, a hint of curiosity showing through as he walked in to see his girlfriend with little frosting marks around her clothes.

“hi hoonie!” she cutely beamed with an eye smile.

sunghoon’s heart instantly lit up, fluttering as he took in the sight in front of him. he cleared his throat before replying back — “you finished baking the cakes?”

y/n nodded her head like an eager child. “yeah! i didn’t want to take too long baking because the frosting’s the fun part!” her exclaim had him abruptly smile.

“i wanted to bake with you though.”

his eyes scanned around the room, observing the cake batter slightly spilled around the dirtied bowls while the flour was around his girlfriend. he cracked a grin at her awkward stance after what he said.

“sorry.., i just thought you would’ve wanted to do the frosting because of how tired you might’ve been from practice.”

the male shook his head to reassure her with a playful manner taking over.

“it’s okay, pretty. i’m sure we can still have our fun frosting the cakes together.” his assurance made his girl smile, feeling a comforting warmth at the pit of her stomach.

“thank you..,” she blushed, cheeks reddening at the name call.

“being with me for 100 days has really made you go soft huh?”

“no!” her yell echoed in the quiet kitchen as she landed a smack on his arm afterward.

hoon faked the pain, grabbing at where he had been hit with an exclaim — “ow, y/n!”

the girl playfully rolled her eyes at his cheesy act.

“shut up hoon,” she murmured back with a half smile forming on her lips.

he hissed out a sigh, still going along with the same energy.

“not even gonna tend to your 100 day boyfriend?”

“it’s actually been a little longer than 100 days, so…”

hoon beamed a smile at the little reminder. “so are you still gonna frost cakes with your 100 plus day boyfriend or what?”

“yes hoonie, i am.” she softly replied back, getting the colors of the frosting ready as the cakes cooled down.

the boy hummed a — “good” — before approaching her and planting a kiss on her cheek. they quickly blushed a bright pink once her eyes met his, reflecting love as his did so too.

still meeting her gaze, he mumbled, “can’t wait to see the outcome of our cakes.”

the two smiled in unison after what he said.

sunghoon pulled her in, closing the gap between them to place a sweet kiss on her lips.

“are you gonna wear your practice outfit or do you wanna change into something else?” y/n asked, but breathlessly against him.

she felt his lips turn into a grin, replying with — “i’ll change into something more comfortable.” he clicked his tongue before leaving to her room.

as he changed into something more easing for the occasion, the girl spread out the bowls of frostings and mini cakes onto the table. she strummed in approval, grabbing an apron to tie around herself.

hoon then walked out to the living room, already having his apron on from grabbing it when walking to the bedroom. his eyes instantly landed on her body figure as she barely started to wrap it around her waist.

“want help with that?” he softly beamed with glimmered eyes.

she nodded, turning around so her boyfriend could reach the back ties.

the stance they were in made them a little awkward in the moment, everything quiet and still as she patiently waited to be done. he cinched it up close to her waist, hands being delicate with the back of her body.

his hands then snaked around her waist, pulling her into an embracing hug.

a gasp from y/n was heard from the sudden touch, cheeks unknowingly blushing as she said, “gosh hoon, that was sudden.”

his head rested on her shoulder, eyes closing from the warmth while only chuckling.

soon enough, she pulled away with a bright smile that reflected his.

“come on, we should decorate these cakes.”

her mumble was soft as she sat down, pulling him down with her as well. his gaze lingered to stay on her, but due to the compliance of her request, he decided to actually start frosting the cakes with her.

for the rest of the night, y/n and sunghoon continued to frost and decorate their lunchbox cakes — quiet music playing in the background as they talked to each other through different topics.

“are you almost done?” the pretty boy asked with an eyebrow raise.

she nodded her head with no attention turned to him, all focus completely put into the effort of making the cake look aesthetic.

taking note of this was too obvious in his eyes as he cracked a soft laugh at her — “you’re really focused on this, aren’t you?”

y/n nodded her head again with no response, leaving hoon to disappointingly shake his head in a playful way. he clicked his tongue in an attempt to catch her attention once more but couldn’t celebrate in victory of it.

“gorgeous?” sunghoon called out. “look at me.”

her head swiftly turned to finally look at the boy, only to be met with frosting suddenly landing on her nose.

she gasped loudly at the sweet cream placement — “PARK SUNGHOON!”

his face was immediately enlightened with joy at the name call, fangs and dimples showing up on display for her to see how much he enjoyed her distress.

“how dare you??” the girl whined, smudging off just a little bit of the frosting.

“sorry,” sunghoon snickered a laugh — “but you were too focused.”

“it’s my turn now!” y/n yelled out, fingers dipping into the frosting to get revenge.

he screamed a — “NO!” — as he backed away, only to land on his back with her on top of him.

she laughed at his fallout, hands attempting in every way to place the frosting somewhere near his face.

“stop fussing around hoonie, you started this!”

her voice echoed in the apartment with his laughs being the only thing heard from him.

“you’ll never get it on me!”

with his last words said, she eventually was able to swipe the frosting onto his cheek, earning a scream from him.

“NOOOO!”

hoon’s words were filled with tears of agony and she only giggled at his silly screech, analyzing his facial features to see how playful he was.

eye were shut, dimple was popping through, and full teeth were out for her to see.

“loser, that’s what you get.” y/n teased, nudging his shoulder with her hand like she always did.

he shook his head like a dog shaking its body after a bath, fluffy hair flopping around.

“you better not do it anymore,” she added in with a proud glint in her smile.

he playfully rolled his eyes, flashing another ear-to-ear grin at her as he said, “fine i won’t..,”

her body turned back to the direction of the cake before swiping another finger into the frosting, evil plan already forming in her head.

“hoon..?”

as soon as his face turned, she quickly let the frosting place itself on the tip of his nose. sunghoon shut his eyes at the sensation.

“Y/N!!”

as if the two had switched places, he began to wipe the frosting away and attempt to get back at her.

almost immediately, she was pinned under him, squirming around to leave his grasp but couldn’t due to his strong hold.

“hoonie, you’re supposed to just get me back, not pin me like this!”

y/n shook her head as his amused smile grew.

“i like this more,” he commented.

his finger went to her lips, letting the soft frosting touch them before swooping his head down. their lips connected as he tasted the sweet vanilla icing.

she kissed back and he softly smiled into it, pulling away not too long after to lick his lips.

sunghoon’s eyes glistened as his gaze locked onto hers, admiring just how gorgeous his girlfriend was.

“happy 100 days with you,” he gently murmured with a half smile.

y/n reflected his facial expression as her eye smiles creased — “happy 100 days, loser.”

his hands interlocked with hers, tangling together as they stayed in the same position. they both admired their partner, each in honest disbelief of how they even managed to find someone who got them like no other.

“can’t believe 100 days passed, time moves so quick when I’m with somebody like you.” he uttered, causing y/n’s face to scrunch.

a smile quickly formed on her face after, responding— “that was a little cheesy, hoon.”

the two mirrored each other’s grin, small laughs heard as he shook his head.

“i just wanted to tell you how much you mean to me.”

her eyes softened at his adorable confession, causing her cheeks to blush with his. she slipped her hands out of his hold, placing them on the sides of his face to pull him in for another soft kiss.

“through all the teasings, you mean the world to me.., idiot.”

her whisper was delicately against his lips as she pulled away, causing the males face to flush.

in realization of the butterflies he got, he forced himself to lift from their position, allowing her to sit up as well.

“let’s finish decorating these cakes, yeah?” he sweetly mumbled.

y/n nodded in agreement and the two turned back to their cakes that began to crust a little due to the lack of attention.

sunghoon placed a soft kiss on her cheek before fully going back, enjoying how rosy they got at the sudden affection she still wasn’t used to.

“stop it..,” she whined, secretly liking his little displays of affection that were only meant for her.

the girl nudged his shoulder, eyes not even wanting to meet his as she felt her heart thumping.

“go back to your cake.” she added on, taking a quick glance at him so she could admire his gorgeous features.

sunghoon didn’t say anything, just simply smiling and chuckling at his girlfriend before complying to her words.

the two continued to frost and decorate their cakes as the night began to come through.

soft music remained to be the mood maker for them, playing out as they laughed in constant unison of looking over at their fond memories of being together for a little more than 100 days.

more was definitely yet to come as they found their other half in human form.

the invisible string becoming tighter than before while creating more memories to look back on.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

a/n: just wanted to say again, thank you for always supporting one way another! unfortunately, i will be going on a quick hiatus just bc of finals. i won’t be able to write a lot with my focus on school for a little so for the time being, other requests in my inbox will be on hold but i’ll still be posting some of my old writings! so it’s just my new works that’ll be on hiatus (lol). thank you regardless! <33

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beauregardlionett · 2 days

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did i rant to my friends about dorian and orym just to be called a simp? yes i did. and i'll do it again.

these two characters? consume my waking thoughts. because just fucking think about this from a timeline/literary point of view for a second with me.

orym lost his husband and his father-in-law (who he always calls dad because he didn't have a dad growing up) in a violent attack on his leader a while ago and whatever magic was used to kill them kept them dead - no reviving magic worked to bring them back. in the space of a single attack, he lost two of the most important people in his life, and now he's a widow who still mourns and loves in equal measure even while far from home trying to save the world. he loves even though he's scared of losing again.

dorian is a runaway heir to a title he never really wanted, a musician for himself, a charlatan hiding behind an easy smile, who has really only ever wanted to see the world in his own time and make real friends for once in his life. and he did that! all on his own! he was with the group at the beginning of the campaign but then they ran into his older brother who was in trouble and needed to lay low and dorian went with him, falling back on old instincts that family by blood comes first. he ran from the group and from the foundations he was building with them. because dorian has only ever run from the things that scare him. but now he's back, re-traced his frightened footsteps toward the daunting promise of tomorrow - not yet with the group, we're getting his side of the story first. and he even said it himself, that he ran from the group and now he's not sure why he did it, why he left, when he stands here now and realizes everything he wanted was already in front of him.

they have sending stones, a once a day chance to say something to each other in 25 words or less. they've been using them, keeping each other updated on where they are, that they're still alive, and kindling this flame even without dorian at the table, without even seeing each other, and liam has been carrying this torch alone for 78 episodes but damn it the flame is still lit regardless!

and orym always updates on their progress and location first, and with whatever words he has left he drops in a sentiment to remind dorian that they still care - that orym still cares. and orym is practical through and through, he's a strategist so he always always always uses his words wisely because he's so fucking limited by this spell but the last message he sent? he repeated himself, he admitted a weakness, he faltered.

he told dorian where they were. he asked if dorian could come their way. he admitted to struggling while his voice broke. he asked again but in a different way if dorian could come their way. he ended the message with the most heartbreaking "fuck, i miss you," i have ever heard in my life.

orym, the man who messaged dorian 52 episodes ago and said "glad you're not here, wish you were anyway." because they're constantly in danger, and he wouldn't wish that on dorian, but he still aches to have him near. orym, the man who confessed 13 episodes ago during a trial with his friends that he's lonely, that he misses dorian and sometimes he thinks it's okay and sometimes he doesn't - because he was married and is still mourning and how dare he have feelings for someone else? how dare he move on even when his husband would WANT him to be happy again? he indicated dorian was missed by everyone in three of his previous messages before the trial, before finally shifting to 'I, orym, me - it's me who misses you'.

and dorian, the one who replied to a message orym sent him with "stay steadfast, sending you fairer winds" in the most longing tone i have EVER heard. dorian, who kissed orym's forehead when they parted ways but that is the closest they have come to acknowledging whatever is between them. dorian, who has been to orym's home between exu and c3 and met orym's mom and knows about orym's husband.

when orym died 58 episodes ago, he went limp and the sending stone slipped out of his hand because he was trying to message dorian before he died, before he ran out of words and breath. before he was revived, there was a moment he stood in the beyond and saw his husband and he told orym "you're not done," and orym said "i really wish i could stay," and then his husband said "i'll still be here," and orym said, heartbroken, "oh, i miss you so bad."

he told dorian, "i've really missed you," and "fuck, i miss you." i miss you is orym's way of saying i love you.

they're so close. they are so close. and orym fully died 19 episodes after dorian left, but he was revived and then never told dorian via sending that happened. part of me wants dorian to find out and the other part hopes he never has to feel like he failed orym by leaving. because nothing could have changed that from happening, not even dorian.

they are so close to reuniting, orym has needed dorian back for WEEKS and he's so close. i'm begging them to hold on so they can hold each other again.

and, again, from a literary point of view, you know the wildest part about all of this?

none of it is scripted.

#cr #critical role #dorian storm #orym of the air ashari #dorym #writing #my writing #i guess???? idk simp rant or whatever #anyway. am i making a hell of a lot of assumptions about their dynamic? yes.#will i be stopping? n o p e #this ship hasn't sailed far but i'm clinging to the steering wheel regardless #i had to get this out of my brain so i could focus on finals

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bananadramaaa · 3 days

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your version of Alastor's dad has the vibe of a desperate, washed up musician with a drinking problem and terrible temper. I can easily see him making Alastor's life hell while also being excited/jealous that his son turns out to be a talented piano player. What if HE taught it to Alastor? And it's one of the very few nice memories he has of what was a petty tyrant loser of a man...

Yeeeeeeessss, so happy that this vibe is visible in my sketches. Because I thought about from whom Alastor got his artistic tendencies, you know, and I thought maybe his father was an artistic type. And sure, there was a nice moments, he wasn't a monster, just a moron. It's not like Al's father hated his kids or wife. He hated life. And it's very hard to see nice things and create them around you when you disappointed in life itself. Hopefully, it makes sense what I'm saying here 😅

Like "Oh, you want to learn how to play piano? Let's get you that piano, my gifted child". And the next time "you're an ungrateful child! I bought you that piano and you don't even play it! If you practice more you won't do those stupid mistakes!" *Bang his fist on the table*.

He's not gonna hit his kids or wife, no (furniture will be victim of that rage). It's his words, the way he delivers information, so to say, that hurt.

#ask #human au #words are hard #I'm bad at explaining

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faeriekit · 11 hours

Text

Immediate Roadside Assistance Required

Phic phight fill for sapphireshield (no tumblr listed)

Warnings for: extremely mild depictions of domestic violence

The car that pulls over is a SUV. Beige. Kind of grimy. There’s a mom at the front; inside, Dani bets there’s probably one or two kids.

The mom rolls down the window. She looks nice. Kind of soft. Tough, in a kind of mom sort of way, but soft enough to see a girl with her thumb out at the side of the road and actually pull over. It’s a sweet gesture; Dani has a vague idea that hitchhiking hasn’t been trendy since the eighties, so this’ll have to do.

The mom sticks an elbow out the window and looks Dani up and down. “You alright, sweetheart?” she asks, a different twang on her tongue than the vowels Dani’s been used to all her (short) life. Dani might be out farther than she thought.

Dani grins. For this mom, it’s nice ‘n sweet. “I’m good! I need a ride, though; I’m trying to get to my stepparent’s place. Tryin’ to get as far as the border.”

The woman flattens her lips. She probably thinks Dani’s a runaway, but she’s not. Dani’s something a lot worse.

“You sure?” The mom looks up at the sky, even as her kid squeals about something snack-related in the back. “It’s about to get dark out, honey. Storm’s coming.”

Dani’s grin doesn’t let up. “I’m gonna go meet my brother! I already know where I’m gonna lay up, so don’t worry!”

The mom is for sure worrying; worrying her lip between her teeth, and worrying over a scruffy kid in a torn-up hoodie. “...Well. ‘Long as I get to see him when we get there. Hop in.”

Dani grins, and hops up in the car.

It’s a little warmer in there. Smells like cheerios; there’s a baby, Dani notices, in the back seat. It’s got her middle two fingers in its mouth and big brown eyes.

Dani waves. The baby stares, since babies do that, and Dani occupies herself by making funny faces over the shoulder of the passenger seat, eager to elicit a giggle from a little kid. She loves little kids. She wishes she’d been allowed to be one.

“You might want to turn around and buckle in, young lady,” the mom drawls, wiping stress off her forehead. “Don’t want you to die if we end up in a crash.”

I can’t, Dani doesn’t say, because she’s nice. I’m already dead.

So she turns around and buckles herself in. The mom flicks on the radio, and a woman’s voice starts growling over an electric guitar and a roughed-up drum kit. It sounds fun.

This ride’s going to be good. Dani grins, all teeth and brimstone. There’s a storm rolling in, bad luck hanging in the air like vapor and sparks. Lightning’s on its way.

It’s a long way to the state border. Dani’s going to enjoy every minute she can with the window down, electricity in her fingers, and the quiet humming of the driver singing along.

They make it to a rest stop about three quarters of the way there.

Dani’s not against stopping, so she just peeks out the window, watching cars and exhausted drivers slog through the paved flats of the rest stop parking lot. “What’re we doing?” Dani asks, entertained in her own way. Maybe this nice mom is going to try to hand her off to CPS!

It wouldn’t work, but, you know. It would be kind of annoying, if ultimately well-meaning.

“Diaper change for the baby,” the mom offers, and, yeah, that’s practical. “Vending machine break for me. Bathroom break for you, probably.”

Oh, that checks out. “Alright!”

The child lock pops, and Dani hops out of the car; she waits, patiently, for the mom to bring out the baby, who looks even more luminous asleep and spitty than when it's awake.

“It slept through a lot of Rock ‘n’ Roll,” Dani admires. The baby gets held to mom’s chest, a blanket wrapped around them both. “That’s cool.”

“He’s heard a lot of Joan Jett since he was born. I’d be shocked if he couldn’t sleep through a hurricane at this point.”

Dani trots after the mom, patient in her wake. They don’t look too much alike, so maybe there are other people wondering if they even know each other at all, or if Dani’s getting kidnapped or traded away for cigarettes. Or probably they just think Dani’s getting babysat, helping watch a baby while the mom ends up driving them over and away from wherever Dani’s landed herself this time.

The diapers the baby uses are a thick, sort of plush material. They look soft. There are little pastel teddy bears on them: one blue, one pink. Dani gets to touch one when the Mom asks her to pull one out of the big blue bag. There are a whole lot crammed in there; they’re packed in so tight that it’s hard to pull one out of the stack without pulling out all the others, but the baby can only wear one diaper at a time!

“Thanks, sweetheart,” the mom says. It’s the nicest anyone’s been to Dani in ages. She’s glad she lived long enough to hear a soft mom call her sweetie and sweetheart for no reason other than being convenient. “You have to go?”

Dani shakes her head. The mom gives her a look. “We’ll be in the state for another hour. You want to try, at least?”

…She hesitates. The baby doesn’t notice, busy playing with its toes as its mom tries to wriggle it back into its butt covering for the sake of covering its butt. She doesn’t usually have bodily functions that actually…function. But the mom lady didn’t know that.

Whatever. She’d play a game of Snake in there. “‘Kay.”

Dani goes into a stall, flicks open her phone, and manages to eat like twenty little pixels before she actually runs into her own little snake body and dies. Ugh. It doesn’t take up too much time— how much time are humans supposed to spend in the bathroom, anyway??— so she fires up a new game and almost gets through it before she hears someone yell. Dani jolts.

The baby starts crying, faint and far away. Dani quickly grabs herself together and puts the phone away. If something’s happening— something happening to the mom and the baby—

Dani dashes out of the bathroom. There’s a guy at the door. There’s a guy holding the baby by the arm so that the baby is dangling and the guy is yelling at the mom who’d driven Dani here, physically pushing her when she tries to get her baby back.

The instinct to hit him is impossible to wrangle. It’s too bad, but Dani has to help the baby and the mom. Hitting him might hurt the baby, if she isn’t careful— doubly true if she uses an ecto-blast.

She goes invisible instead.

Carefully pulling the baby intangibly through the man’s grip is a quiet, tense process. The baby keeps crying and crying and crying, but the more she hides it, the quieter the cries seem.

And then there’s a baby shallowly crying in her arms.

The guy doesn’t even realize, too busy shoving and hitting the mom who’d done nothing wrong. Dani hates this guy. He reminds her of Vlad— too angry that he isn’t getting his way, and never understanding why no one’s obeying him fast enough.

Dani hoists the baby into one arm, mirroring the way the mom had carried it into the rest stop when they first came in. The hold doesn’t feel as secure as Dany thinks it ought to, but it frees up a hand.

Dani grabs the mom’s hand.

The woman disappears into thin air. The guy looks so spooked.

Dani giggles. Either way, it’s super easy and simple to fly the mom and the baby through the bathroom walls, and hiding them in the bathroom cleaner closet seems safer than hiding them in a stall. Dani doesn’t pause when the mom gasps, frightened by the change in scenery; she pops the baby into her arms and disappears back the way she came.

Dani Phantom has a guy to beat up.

There are lots of ways to scare humans, Dani finds; humans are afraid of the dark, and afraid of what they can’t control. They’re afraid of pain, and they’re afraid of loud noises. Humans aren’t afraid of everything all the time, but they can be afraid of more things when they’re combined than when they’re not.

So Dani flexes her aura. The lights flicker in the main room of the rest stop. The man stops, but his hand is still raised.

He looks to see where the baby is, and realizes that he’s empty-handed. The woman is gone.

The lights go out.

Dani loves being seen sometimes. She doesn’t like being bothered, but she loves attention when she knows no one can call the cops on her; so she drips green. She lets herself glow, gloopy and malformed, as she pulls herself through the wall. She turns melty eyes onto the man who took the baby from its mom.

The guy kind of looks like he’s going to piss himself. Good.

Dani starts to fake cry. It starts out as little sniffles— and then moans, and sobs, Dani clawing herself out of the wall until she’s floating, midair, half-formed and wailing. She kind of hopes she looks super spooky, like one of those CGI gross guys from Stranger Things, or that girl who walked down the stairs in a spooky backbend one time.

The guy steps back. Great. Dani inches forwards. The guy steps back again, face pale as a china plate, looking inches from giving up the ghost and bolting off to the parking lot.

Excellent.

Dani takes her hands off of her face to show melting, distorted features. And she screams.

The guy is gone in seconds. He should just be a sprinter instead of bullying moms and their little babies! Dani huffs, hands on her hips. Whatever. As long as he’s gone, he can do whatever he likes.

Dani barely remembers to set her face right before going to get the mom and baby out of the closet. It doesn’t matter how human she looks, though, because when she opens the door back up for them, the mom looks like she’s seen a ghost.

Dani grins, and probably her teeth aren’t showing anything too weird or spooky. “That guy left! Can we go now?”

The mom takes a deep, rattling breath. She does that thing where she touches her forehead, her chest, and then the air above her shoulders. No one’s told Dani what that means so far, but she’s seen it a lot.

“...Sure, sweetheart.”

Dani beams.

They make it to the edge of the state just as the rain starts to pour down. The mom is still looking for Danny by the time Dani points them into a gas station, but Danny’s not here; Dani made him up long enough to get a ride as far as she thought she could get tonight. The mom is still peering through the gloom of the driver’s side window as Dani turns herself transparent and flies out and away.

The mom was nice. The baby was nice. Dani liked this ride.

She walks, intangible, through the rain. The highway is dark, and wet, but Dani’s optimistic; sometimes people feel bad for her, so she gets more rides in a thunderstorm than on a sunny day. After an hour, somewhere on a rural road she’s never seen nor heard of before, Dani sticks her thumb out for a low little car going exactly the speed limit.

The car has a little old couple in the front and passenger seat. They look like grandparents. The grandpa rolls down his window, white eyebrows pushed together. “You need a ride, honey?”

Dani grins.

#Phic phight #Phic phight 2024 #Danny phantom #dani phantom #danielle phantom #LOVE the idea that Dani becomes a national cryptid on accident #Dani does what comes naturally but her instincts are SO fucked #alright that's my last one. I'm tired.#faer fic

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sstormyskyess · 2 days

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Still Woozy

author's note: i was listening to my still woozy playlist and got the inspo to write some headcanons based on the songs i thought fit the boys! also wanted to write my first piece with alejandro so here it is 👍 [side note: all the songs refer to a woman/fem listener but for the sake of this, the reader is gn!]

cw: nothing, just fluff!

word count: 800+

TF-141 + Alejandro x GN!Reader

Simon “Ghost” Riley [Cooks]

♡ Ghost is a little clueless when it comes to romance and the things that come with it, having been in a toxic home for his younger years. Most of his ideas about romantic relationships come from the very few movies/shows featuring happy couples he’s seen, so his ideas on how to handle a real relationship are scarce and sometimes a bit misconstrued.

♡ But once he finds the one he loves, he’s ready and willing to try his best at figuring things out as he goes. Regardless, he’ll still be fairly lost in the early stages of a relationship.

♡ But don’t get it mistaken—if he’s in a relationship, he’s absolutely head over heels in love, and he’ll do his very best to keep everything working smoothly, even if that means messing up every now and then. He would rather die than hurt you, so be prepared for him to be asking a ton of questions; you may need to reassure him frequently to remind him that just him trying is enough.

John “Soap” MacTavish [Get By]

♡ Soap is a bit of a goofball in a committed romantic relationship, but it’s all for the sake of his partner because he lives to see them happy more than anything else.

♡ He loves to see you happy and practically any time he notices you not feeling your best, he’ll do what he can to bring your spirits up, whether that be taking you out on a nice, fancy date or just staying in and getting you to spare some time for yourself. He has a special place in his mind to remember all of the things that make you smile, like your favorite foods/restaurants and the media you like to engage with.

♡ As referenced in the song, though, he’s made a fool of himself for the sake of cheering you up a few times. It makes you feel bad, but it is quite funny watching him do the silliest things to make you laugh.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick [Get Down]

♡ Gaz is a very dedicated partner and he would do damn near anything for them. He’s made it clear to you on multiple occasions that he can handle pampering you with anything you please, even if you tell him you don’t want to overwork him.

♡ He’s by no means a materialistic person, but he loves to spend his money on you. When he’s on leave, he loves taking you on vacations, big or small. He’ll buy you any little thing you may have your eyes on or have mentioned wanting in the past, because what else will he do with the money he gets from his job? After all, before you came into his life, he was a fairly frugal man, only spending money on what’s really necessary. Now, though, you’re his only real necessity, meaning you get spoiled one way or another.

♡ He also loves it when you get clingy and adores when you’re all over him like your life depends on it. It never gets overbearing for him and he wouldn’t trade the world for your love and attention.

John Price [Wolfcat]

♡ Despite being a rigidly authoritative person outside his home, when Price is alone with his partner in the safety of his own home, he is absolutely whipped. He’s a homebody at heart and he loves filling a domestic role in his intimate relationships.

♡ He’s most certainly a quality time enjoyer and he spends a good amount of time planning little activities for the two of you to engage in while he’s home on leave. He’ll try to mask it as him simply trying to keep himself occupied in place of the strict schedule he’s accustomed to on base, but it’s obvious to anyone that knows him well enough that he’s obsessed with being by your side.

♡ Not to mention, he loves a partner that can put him in his place when needed, since he knows he can be a little headstrong and stubborn. Disagreements turn into arguments, but he knows when to shut up with you because you’re very good at reminding him that he’s not invulnerable to being wrong.

Alejandro Vargas [Habit]

♡ Alejandro is a romantic man even if his work often comes first. But, if he had it his way, he would be spending all his waking moments with his partner. His carefully manufactured distance between his work and family has him feeling insecure about the stability of his relationships, but he always comes back to you, no matter what happens.

♡ He doesn’t fall in love quickly, always wanting to make sure that he’s making a sound decision on who he’s going to lavish with his affections. But he’ll be glued to you once he’s finally comfortable in his choice to settle down with you. He doesn’t do frivolity; everything he does is done with purpose and his love life is no different.

♡ He’ll also put in extra effort for you to have a good support system while he’s away so you never feel lonely, likely with his family. He has plenty of family to go around and he’ll use that to his advantage to keep you comfortable even without him in your presence.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

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signalburst · 3 days

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Shōgun Historical Shallow-Dive: Part 1

Does everybody else's heart hurt? Good! Let's get learning. These characters and the people that inspired them all deserve their own post, but here's a quick one if you're wondering what happened. This is a shallow-dive because the history is extremely complicated, and a condensed version of just the events leading up to Sekigahara (the battle depicted in the finale) take up entire volumes of history. I'll do my best to answer questions about what happened to our three protagonists, in the show, as well as real life 🙇

One note: given I'm not a professional historian, I've got no obligation to not have biases and favourites. I've tried to keep most of them out of this, but if you want to punish yourself by trying to keep track of who's who in the Azuchi-Momoyama period, this book is the best English-language overview.

What happened to Toranaga (Tokugawa Ieyasu)?

Gif: @yocalio

I am not as strong as I might be, but I have long known and practiced patience. And if my descendants wish to be as I am, they must study patience. - from The Legacy of Ieyasu Tokugawa

In the book, Toranaga reveals that it had been his aspiration to be Shōgun from the very beginning. That was what drove his alliance with the Taiko, that was what drove his feigned alliance with the Heir.

History follows a very similar path. I re-read some chapters on the battle of Sekigahara last night, and there is no easy way to explain it, but: the result of Sekigahara (an enormous, two-day battle with 200,000 samurai and ashigaru warriors in the field) was an enormous victory for Tokugawa, Toranaga's real-life counterpart.

Years - sometimes decades - of scheming by Tokugawa had made Ishido/Ishida's Western Alliance completely fragmented. In the months leading up to the period displayed in the show, Toranaga was calling in a lifetime of marriage alliances, diplomatic advantage, defensive pacts and childhood friends who'd risen to high status. Re-reading the sources, the names of all the lords of all the important fiefs and castles makes my head spin, let alone the ones that turned out to be pivotal to Toranga/Tokugawa's victory. But it was a resounding victory, and by both the numbers and the disposition of forces, he should have lost.

Historians have a consensus that if the 'Western forces' of the Heir had have fought together with a unified command structure, they would have won, easily. But they didn't - orders from Ishido/Ishida were ignored, Toranaga/Tokugawa endured onslaughts, and the Regents' opposing armies eventually fractured and melted away. This was a last-of-an-era battle. Families were fighting on either side, every single unit that could be brought to bear was on the field. It is no exaggeration to say Sekigahara is one of the few, unambiguous battles upon which the beginning of a historical era came down to.

Toranaga/Tokugawa triumphed because he spent decades building unity of purpose and strong alliances, simultaneously sowing division amongst the Regents, who ultimately balked at being commanded by a bureaucrat like Ishido/Ishida. Whilst there was no one decisive moment of an extremely bloody, rainy, two-day battle, the fact that Ishido/Ishida's forces refused to be told what to do by someone of lower status was the main theme of their defeat. A crucial army stationed on the hill stayed still, refusing to commit to either side, until Toranaga/Tokugawa fired muskets into their ranks. They made up their mind, and attacked Ishido/Ishida's Western army. Ishido/Ishida's one trick of firing a flare to commit the reserve army didn't work. The commander ignored it. Instead of being there to fight for something, Ishido/Ishida's coalition was there to oppose someone. They all had different reasons. And ultimately, the man that brought them together didn't command enough respect to command a battle.

As our show Toranaga said, the Regents fell upon each other. He might have been a bit optimistic about how and why this would happen (they fell over each other in retreat, and it took two days of horrific combat), but it happened. Tokugawa Ieyasu was famous for richly rewarding former enemies, and most of those he defeated kept their heads. This reputation is a strong incentive for leaving the field when things start going Tokugawa's way.

The two exceptions were Ishido/Ishida, and Kiyama/Konishi, both beheaded in Osaka (Ishido, bizarrely, was upbeat about his fate, until seconds before the sword came down). Killing Ishida was the obvious move, as the man schemed and bitched so much he caused a civil war. Killing Konishi was more calculated - it opened up his trade-hub in Kyushu to being ruled by a fervent Buddhist daimyo and ally of Tokugawa.

Toranaga/Tokugawa forces soon captured Osaka Castle after the battle of Sekigahara, and with it, the Heir.

Toranaga/Tokugawa 'reluctantly' accepted the Imperial appointment of Shōgun three years later, in 1603. In 1605, he abidcated, passing the title to his most malleable and competent son, Hidetada. He was the real power behind the throne and ruled until his death in 1616.

The year before he died, he was able to fully secure his legacy. The Heir (in real life, Toyotomi Hideyori) had begun to gather daimyo to Osaka castle who were opposed to Tokugawa. Tokugawa used the flimsiest of pretexts - the opening of a shrine - to order the Heir out of the castle. He refused, Tokugawa forces besieged the castle - twice. The first one was called off because cannon fire nearly killed Ochiba no kata, and she pushed her son to sue for peace. By the second siege, there would be no peace: the Tokugawa forces defeated all oppoosition, and secured the legacy.

Toranaga/Tokugawa's descendants would rule for 250 years of internal peace and external lock-down of the country from barbarians (and Christians), except for limited trade.

The big question: did Toranaga/Tokugawa really want to be Shōgun from the start? History tells us, rather unambiguously, yes - before the campaign, he was writing his 100 Articles for ruling Japan, which would be instrumental for his family holding on to power and preventing internal strife. His plan may well have gone back to his formative, teenage years. At the very least, it is highly likely it was solidified when Toranaga/Tokugawa was a vassal of the Dictator Koroda/Oda Nobunaga - the man Mariko/Hosokawa Gracia's father assassinated, who was brutal even by the standards of the day. We don't have time for him, the Taiko, and Mariko's father today - but my opinion is that the motherfucker firmly deserved to be assassinated, and the only amazing thing is that the inspiration for Mariko's father was able to hold off for so long.

But that killing set off a chain of events that would lead to Toranaga/Tokugawa becoming sole ruler of a unified Japan. So much of history is contingent on individual actors and random events. It didn't have to happen. It was extremely unlikely. But, through patience (and by my reckoning, a lot of luck), he made the world he wanted to see. Whether that was worth the price in lives is for the reader to decide.

But by all accounts, Toranaga/Tokugawa died very satisfied in the knowledge that his legacy was secure, his realm was unified, and, finally, at peace.

What happened to Mariko (Hosokowa Gracia)?

Gif: @yocalio

As is probably obvious, Mariko's purpose was fulfilled before the conclusion of the show. As is also probably obvious, her historical counterpart - Hosokowa Gracia - did not have an affair with an English sea pilot (😢). She did, however, change Japanese history, and tipped the balance of noble support towards Toranaga/Tokugawa. Her death had meaning.

The framing of her marriage to Buntaro and exile after her father's successful assassination of a brutal dictator is almost exactly correct. She was one of the most desirable, valued and accomplished young noblewomen of the day. The stain of the name Akechi would haunt her for the rest of her life. Real life Buntaro, Hosokowa Tadaoki, genuinely sent her away for two years to save her life. The Hosokowa family even went so far as to pretend that she had died, to save her from the Taiko's vengeance. Whilst her marriage was an unhappy one (though not, as far as is known, abusive), she was beloved by the head of the Hosokowa clan, the show's Hiromatsu. They went to extraordinary lengths to keep her safe.

Her main comfort in her life was her faith. It's perhaps here that we get the strongest through-line from Hosokowa Gracia to Mariko - unafraid, intelligent, and fierce.

She first came to learn about Christianity from her Christian maid, who extolled the virtue of the faith, and the opportunities for intellectual stimulation theological discussion could bring. In 1587 (five years after her father assassinated the dictator, three years after she returned from exile), she decided to take action on it. She snuck out of Osaka Castle and visited the main church in Osaka - she had lively conversations with the elderly Father-Visitor, and was an excellent pupil of both Portuguese and Latin theological texts. I don't know if you guys have ever tried to read those things, but even in translation, they are torturous. This woman was extremely intelligent.

As a noble woman of the Taiko's court, she knew he was about to issue an edict outlawing Christianity. Being the (excuse the language) absolute fucking badass that she was, she had her maid (baptismal name Maria) baptise her before the edict was issued, transforming from Hosokowa Tama to Hosokowa Gracia. Even though she had to keep her faith a secret due to the Taiko's edict, she found a way to hold on to it. She had a special sake cup made with the Hosokowa mon emblazed on the lip, which, on very close inspection, was actually a Christian cross.

During this time of her religious conversion and education, a primary source from a Jesuit priest says that 'I have never disputed with a woman of such clear judgement, and such definite knowledge.' She was known for being fiercely intelligent, and this is commented on in many European letters and journals that have remained from the Catholic church's time in Japan.

Her relationship with her husband - like Buntaro, a senior retainer of Toranaga/Tokugawa - was frosty. They never reconciled after her father's (Akechi Mitsuhide) rebellion, but her husband did recall her from exile when it was safe to do so, and she lived to serve a very similar purpose to Mariko in the book and show. By virtue of not being an interpreter, she was less close to Toranaga/Tokugawa than in the book and show, but she was still dedicated to her clan and her clan's overlord, as will become clear.

Just as in the show, Hosokowa Gracia agonized at the thought of seppuku putting her soul in mortal danger. But she perceived her duty to be to ensure death before being captured or otherwise dishonoured.

To put it bluntly, Ishido (Ishida in real life) fucked up. Before any military manouvers had begun, he went to seize hostages of friends and enemies alike throughout Osaka castle. His forces tried to forcibly seize Hosokowa Gracia from the family quarters. She gave orders for her senior retainer to kill her, her daughter, and set fire to their section of Osaka Castle, so that none could be taken and subjected to dishonour. She arranged with this samurai to stand on one side of a shoji screen, facing him. He stabbed her through the heart with a naginata. She died, satisfied in the knowledge that:

...the death was not suicide, and her soul would doubtless be spared from the torments of Hell.

Although not doing this directly on the orders of Toranaga/Tokugawa, it's highly likely she knew that she was making a statement (many of the other hostages went quietly). This furthered his cause immensely. Inspired by Hosokowa Gracia, families streamed out of Osaka Castle and other Regent-held castles by any method they could. Her example ignited a firestorm of controversy surrounding the gall of a jumped-up bureaucrat (a reputation Ishido/Ishida would never escape) forcing the death of one of the era's pre-eminent noblewomen. Although her husband was relatively unbothered by her death, her father-in-law - the book/show's Hiromatsu - was furious. Because of Hosokowa Gracia and his granddaughter's death, he immediately fortified his border castle.

He defied a large [Ishido/Ishida] army of 15,000 men with only 500 men of his own.

Many of [Ishido/Ishida's] commanders held [Hosokowa Fujitaka/Hiromatsu] in such high regard that they went through the bare motions of laying siege. On a regular basis, gunners 'accidentally' forgot to load their cannon with iron shot, and so Tanabe Castle's walls reverberated daily to the harmless booming of blank gundpowder explosions. [Ishido/Ishida's] military offensive had launched to a disastrous start.

The siege only ended because of an imperial decree (it's a long story - Fujitaka/Hiromatsu knew an oral tradition special imperial poem that risked dying with him, nobody could refuse the Emperor). More than this, any chance Ishido/Ishida had of convincing skilled and respected generals to commit to his side ended with Fujitaka/Hiromatsu's defiance. Such was the respect that he commanded, and such was the rage he felt at the death of his daughter-in-law, that he worked tirelessly to gather support for Toranaga/Tokugawa, despite his advanced years.

Mariko/Hosokowa Gracia's contribution was an inflection point to what many samurai, busho and daimyo were suspecting - that Ishido/Ishida was a snake bitch who couldn't be trusted (I believe that's the correct historical term). Her actions galvanized resistance against him, and continued to spread the wildfire that would seal his defeat on the battlefield of Sekigahara: 'Why are we taking orders from him?'

Importantly, Hosokowa Gracia's remains were gathered by a Catholic priest, and given a Christian burial in Osaka. From everything we know of her, this would have been very meaningful indeed. Just as with Mariko in the show's depiction, Hosokowa Gracia's death was not senseless or without meaning. It meant something, and continues to resonate through the centuries.

What happened to John Blackthorne (William Adams)?

Gif by @cinematic-gif-archive

The short answer: imagine an alien landed in America. It was smart enough to avoid death. It ended up chief special advisor to Obama, and they became bros. That is William Adams's life.

First things first: Blackthorne stays in Japan. 'Old Rich Blackthorne' scenes are basically fever dreams. I was worried when the episode opened with a flash-forward to an old man living in Tudor comfort. This would be a huge change from both the book, and history. The novel ends with Toranaga confirming that his plan is for Blackthorne to never leave Japan. Blackthorne finds his place there. In history, the same is true of William Adams.

In episode 10, the 'is this a flash-forward?/is this a dream?' question is answered halfway through the episode. Blackthorne drops Mariko's cross over the side with Fuji's family ashes. As soon as that's done, the aged visions of Blackthorne disappear.

For those who are more textual than visual: the episode is titled A Dream of a Dream (a play on the title of the Taiko's death poem). Concussed, grief-stricken Blackthorne is dreaming of the dream he used to have - returning to England with riches and glory, his family name secure, with every comfort Queen Elizabeth the First can offer a pirate-explorer like Sir Francis Drake or Sir Walter Raleigh. But as soon as he lets go of Mariko's cross into the water (earlier, actually, when he sincerely attempted seppuku to try and save the people of Ajiro) that dream stopped appearing. The dream he had of exploiting Japan for riches and glory was gone, replaced with the reality of the life he is left to build.

In the show and the book, Toranaga is explicit about never letting Anjin-sama/Blackthorne leave Japan. If he builds new ships, Toranaga will burn them again. He needs Blackthorne's knowledge, expertise, and - in a bizarre twist of fate - friendship. We leave him hauling his wreck from the harbour, ready to salvage the keel and spars, to build a new ship in Japan.

So how does this marry up with history? Extremely accurately. As far as we know, the historical William Adams was slightly less of a pirate/privateer than the book/show's John Blackthorne. His hatred of Catholicism was more driven by their fervent desire to kill him, which they kept up for nearly a decade. His interest in exploration, in the show and in the historical, was genuine.

The show's story very closely follows what actually happened in real life (again, sans romance... although he does have love in his life, which we'll get to). His crew were initially imprisoned, he was summoned by Toranaga/Tokugawa, and met with him many times to discuss his knowledge of the outside world, trade, and Christianity's impact in Asia. The Jesuits did pester the Council of Regents, and Toranaga/Tokugawa in particular, to execute him. Toranaga/Tokugawa refused, saying this barbarian had done nothing to harm Japan or its people. The Jesuits would not forget this.

He did train elements of Toranaga/Tokogawa's army in how to work the cannon his ship possessed - a skill he possessed, but no one else was willing to offer. He actually followed Toranaga/Tokugawa to several battles. Recent primary source evidence has revealed it was highly likely he was actually at the Battle of Sekigahara, which is a very recent development in the historiography of his life. It is just bananas insane, but it demonstrates just how useful (and likeable) Blackthorne/Adams was to Toranaga/Tokugawa.

I've read two biographies of William Adams, and he was very, very like the Blackthorne portrayed by Cosmo Jarvis. Other Europeans in Japan complained that he was arrogant and dismissive - historians see this as Adams adapting to his station in Japanese society, and being extremely frustrated with European manners and bearing in Japan.

Once Toranaga/Tokugawa became shōgun, Adams - already a samurai - was made hatamoto, and forbidden from leaving Japan. He was granted many generous cuckoos (250 of them!), an estate in Edo, a fief at the entrance to Edo bay, and rose to become Toranaga/Tokugawa's chief trade advisor. During Toranaga/Tokugawa's remaining life, he built two Western-style ships (which Tokugawa came aboard and was very pleased with - that's nice!), and took over piloting duties of Portuguese and Spanish ships making landfall in Edo, pissing off the Catholics to no end.

On Ieyasu Tokugawa's death in 1616, his holdings and fief were confirmed by the new shōgun, Ieyasu Hidetada. But his relationship with the court wouldn't be the same. My reading of the sources leads me to believe that James Clavell was right here: Toranaga/Tokugawa Ieyasu genuinely liked Blackthorne/William Adams, and wanted him around.

As more and more Europeans arrived in Japan, including the English and the Dutch, Adams served as translator for them, and - for the Enlgish - fixer whenever they did something barbaric and rude that would warrant execution. He seemed to view spending time with the (no joke) drunken, whoring, disgusting-smelling English trading factory members as an extreme annoyance. He seemed happiest at sea, and at his mansion in Edo, where he married the daughter of a merchant in 1613. Whilst her name is lost to the historical record, they had two children, Joseph and Susanna.

He wasn't a deadbeat dad - he wrote to his wife back in England, explaining that he could not return. She was a firebrand, and eventually extracted a form of life insurance from the Dutch company that had contracted Adams's piloting services. Partly she was able to do this because of a proclamation issued by Toranaga/Ieyasu Tokugawa: 'William Adams was dead the day he was made samurai, and Miura Anjin - the pilot of the fief of Miura - was born.' That sounds like a badass quote I've made up, but that's one of the English translations of Tokugawa's proclamation.

Adams kept up his maritime adventures, charting the Japanese coast, going on several trading missions to Southeast Asia (sailing to Thailand and meeting with the King of Siam, furthering his amazing ability to charm and dazzle). He struck up firm friendships with members of Tokugawa's court, fellow Japanese merchants in Edo, and the much more polite Dutch traders, despite the tensions that had grown between their two countries.

There's an important aspect of his legacy that endured for centuries. Toranaga/Tokugawa, suspicious of what he had learned of Catholic conversion and invasion of other Asian states, was already disposed to be wary of the Church. The Church in Japan would not let Adams rest, attempting to kill him, convert him, bribe him, and offer him passage home in 1614 on a Portuguese ship. In the same year Portuguese priests claimed that only Spanish miners had the skills to open up the mineral wealth of Japan. Adams warned the shōgun, again, that this was the Catholic way - first the priests, then the conquistadores.

Influenced by these reports and counsel, and because the Jesuits legitimately were conspiring to do the shit Adams accused them of (always a tough charge to defend), Toranaga/Tokugawa Ieyasu expelled all Portuguese priests in 1614, and demanded all Japanese Christians recant. Apart from this leading to the Dutch being the only nation allowed to conduct trade with Japan, this was the end of Japanese Christianity, until the country was forced open in 1855. Christianity never took root in the same way it would in places like Brazil and the Philippines. Was William Adams the only factor in this development? No. Was he a factor? Yes.

He died in 1620, after twenty contented years in Japan and Asia. His will stipulated that his estates and belongings be split evenly between his family in England and Japan. One of Adams's colleagues recorded that Ieyasu Hidetada transferred lordship of Adams's fief to his Japanese son, Joseph, as well as his katana and wakizashi. His line fell out of the historical record, but memory of and monuments to the Anjin remain in Japan.

Faring Well

Shōgun, the book, was fiction, written by a man fascinated by Japanese history, driven by a desire to bring it to the world. He was overwhelmingly successful. It was an excellent start, and even fired up some fascinating academic discussion at the time that I'd definitely recommend. The 2024 adaptation, in my view, changes many of the elements that have aged poorly, were flat-out wrong to begin with, and - like all great adaptations - adds to the work, rather than cheapening it.

Despite being based on real people, the fictional characters created for the show - Blackthorne, Toranga, and especially Mariko - feel real. That is an amazing achievement.

I hope this opens up an interest in Japanese history for some viewers. Being able to visit the places where these events took place is a truly awesome experience. Like all history, it's for individuals to judge what they think of the players.

Hiroyuki Sanada said that he admires Tokugawa Ieyasu because of his ability to bring forth 250 years of peace out of nearly 500 years of chaos. Was Ieyasu motivated by altruism, or self-interest? Does it even matter?

Anna Sawai saw in Hosokowa Gracia a moving, powerful woman, deeply committed to her faith, and to doing what she believed was right in the context of her time. As a person without faith myself, I found this portrayal of genuine belief extremely moving. The demonstration of her convictions was one of the most amazing performances I've ever seen.

And as for the English pilot, Cosmo Jarvis said he wanted to capture the restlessness of Adams, his slow transformation and growth, and the unique qualities that allowed the man to survive and thrive in an extremely deadly time. One thing he nailed that I think even James Clavell messed up was how deepy strange William Adams was. Not weird, not insane, but just a very singular individual. Biographers talk about his aloof, detached, self-aware nature being misconstrued as arrogance by Europeans who encountered him in Japan. Part of it was his annoyance at their inability to learn how to be in Japan; part of it was that he was simply built very differently. In embodying this, I think Cosmo Jarvis succeeded amazingly.

From what we can find in the historical record, William Adams and Hosokowa Gracia may not be 'great' in the sense that Tokugawa Ieyasu was 'great'. They did not build an era. To borrow a phrase from one of my favourite historical writers, whilst they may not be 'great' people, they were good people. That is vanishingly rare in the history we celebrate, and I think, for that reason alone, it's important to remember them, and the things they lived and died for.

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