#anyways this is my take on the whole thing

[thebestsetter]

Sae's nutritionist has been having a hard time ever since the athlete started a family with you.

Sae has always followed his diets strictly. Never ate chocolate, avoided sugar the best he could and mainly ate only fruits and vegetables. His behavior was always praised by all his nutritionists because of how easy it was working with him.

Sae started to "disobey" his diet when he moved in with you.

It all started when you began to cook him lunch for after morning practice. You knew he had to follow a strict diet, so you never made something too unhealthy. Sometimes, you even sneaked some sweet treats for him, but it was too little to do any harm, so his doctor just pretended not to notice it.

But this?? This was too much.

"Sae-kun" he said, pointing at the pink princess pot on Sae's hands "W-what is this?"

"My daughter packed my lunch today" Sae smiled softly, just like he always did when talking about you or your daughter. The doctor would've thought the whole ordeal was cute, if not for what was inside the pot: a box orange juice you buy on those vending machines (it's orange color was almost radioactive. God knows how much sugar there is in it), a (very) poorly made pink cupcake, with rainbow sprinkles all over it; and scrambled eggs (thank God at least one healthy thing).

"You can't possibly be thinking about eating this" his doctor deadpanned, but quickly added "T-the cupcake and the juice, I mean. The eggs are fine"

Sae's smile instantly fell, and he stared at the nutritionist with a frown

"What's wrong with my daughter's food?" It wasn't a question. Sae was daring the doctor to say something bad about the cupcake his sweet, lovely daughter made, staring at him with a cold and almost dangerous gaze.

The poor doctor should've stopped there. He really should have. But if he let Sae eat this Chernobyl looking cupcake, he might as well just throw his nutrition degree on the nearest trash can.

"It's not good for your health" the nutritionist said, staring at the Cinderella that was painted on the top of the pot "As an athlete, you know it's important to lose old eating habits. You can't eat this."

Sae stared at the doctor for what felt like centuries, but finally looked at the cupcake and carefully picked it up, holding it in his hands like it was the most valuable thing he ever held.

The way his gaze softened just by looking at that sorry excuse of a pantry almost scared the doctor. One second, he was looking at him with what could only be described as pure hatred. The other, he was looking at an ugly cupcake like it was a masterpiece.

Anyways, Sae's doctor was just glad this was over with. Itoshi obviously was going to throw the cupcake away, eat the eggs, and just order something else to compliment his lunch. It would all be okay.

Or so he thought .

"You know" Sae started, peeling the paper that was carefully wrapped around the sweet treat "It's interesting that you talk about losing"

"Why?" The doctor asked, not really liking Sae's voice

Sae stared at the man for a while, then slowly looked at the cupcake and brought it up to his mouth. Just as he was about to take a bite out of it, he stopped and stared at the man again

"Cause you just lost your job"

"What?"

"You're not deaf" Sae said "You're fired. Grab your stuff and get out of my sight"

"You can't do that!" The doctor screamed at him, which only made Sae roll his eyes

"I can and I did. Out. Now."

The nutritionist knew it was useless arguing with the stoic Sae Itoshi. With a sigh, he turned away from the player to go and collect his belongings

"Just one more thing before you go"

He heard Sae say, which urged him to turn around. The moment he laid his eyes on Itoshi, the footballer took a bite out of the pink cupcake

"This is fucking delicious."

The doctor would NEVER eat a cupcake in his life again.

Masterlist

[no-144444]

HI!!!! I am such a huge fan of your work, could i request something with charles where the reader is max verstappens sister but she's a pop star (think sabrina carpenter) and charles and her are dating on the dl but he goes to her concert and gets spotted and then everyone goes crazy with fan theories and they hard launch with the music video, and max is pissed because a, she's off limits to drivers. and b, why didn't they tell him.

anyways, that was just my thoughts, thank you girl!

don't dim your light- c.l

summary: you have a secret boyfriend and an album coming and you realise that hiding yourself and your life only makes you feel like shit.

pairing: charles leclerc x fem! verstappen! popstar! reader

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Being the sister of Max Verstappen meant two things: 

1: You were famous. 

2: You were off-limits to every single other driver.

Too bad that you’d fallen for your brother’s rival (/husband???). Charles was perfect, everything you’d ever wanted in a man. He was kind, caring, thoughtful, and most of all… fucking gorgeous. It had been months of sneaking around because, while Charles didn’t feel scared at all to drive a car around at top speed, actually risking his life, he was scared of your brother. Like, scared to death. 

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“Bebé,” he whined, holding you against him. “My love! Do not leave me here!”

You rolled your eyes, chuckling, as you pushed his hands off of you. “I have to catch my flight!”

“But if we don’t spend Christmas together I won’t see you until the summer!” he groaned. 

“The joys of dating a popstar, I guess,” you shrugged, grabbing your suitcase. You pressed a kiss to his cheek and smiled. “I’ll see you in Monaco, alright?” 

He frowned then pressed his lips to yours as hard as he possibly could. “I love you.”

“I love you too, you big sap,” you smirked. He rolled his eyes.

“You are so mean to me, you know that?” he huffed. 

“Bye Charles!” you called after yourself, leaving his Monaco apartment. 

It had been 7 whole months of bliss with Charles. Obviously, you’d met him prior to the first date, knowing him quite well from all the stories Max had told you, but shockingly, it took a Puma brand ambassadors dinner for him to make the first move. He was evidently very nervous, but you’d started to love his weird dorky qualities. He was sweet, and kind, and that’s all you really cared about. 

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“London, can we make some noise?!” you cheered. The stadium roared back to you. You had done it. You’d sold out the O2 for 4 whole nights. You were one of the biggest pop stars on the planet. “Are you guys ready for one last song tonight?” they screamed back at you. “Alright, this one is new, I hope you like it!”

The intro to Bed Chem started, and you knew everyone already knew it (it had been leaked a few months ago), but you danced and sang it exactly how it was meant to sound. One thing you loved about being on stage is how free you felt. All of those people were there to see you, which melted your heart. You loved every single fan you’d ever come across and appreciated every single one of them. They made you, they made your success. 

As the song finished, ‘new album out next week! xxx’ flashed behind you on the screen, and the crowd went wild. 

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You walked into your dressing room, exhausted from the night, and slightly hurt that despite offering to fly them out, none of your family came. You understood, Max’s career was important, and it was his last chance before the regulations changed to get the most out of the car. He wanted his fifth so badly, mostly because he wasn’t sure he was going to stay around from 2026 onwards. He had a family now. He had a baby and P to take care of. He didn’t like the media circus that F1 had turned into, or the fact that it was a popularity contest. Your entire family had been built around Max, and you knew why, but it didn’t make it hurt any less when you were reminded of the fact that you were just the second kid. 

“My love!” Charles cheered, wrapping you up in his arms, startling you. “You were incredible! You were amazing!” he pressed kiss after kiss to your neck and cheek as you hugged him back, ecstatic that he was here. 

He had taken the time out of his insanely busy schedule, on a race week, to come see you on the literal other side of the world. He truly was the best boyfriend in the world. 

“What are you doing here?” you chuckled, shocked by his presence. “You should be getting ready for Japan!”

He shrugged. “I’ll be fine in Japan, I wasn’t going to miss you performing!” 

You pulled him closer once again, pressing your lips against his. “I fucking love you,” you whispered, trying to make your voice sound steady. 

“I love you too,” you smiled, pulling back. The way he looked at you. All the love in the world. Like you hung the fucking stars just for him. He adored you, and you felt it. You felt  bathed in his light the second he walked near you, that’s how much he loved you. “Don’t cry,” he frowned, wiping the tears you hadn’t even noticed were falling, away. “I hope they’re happy tears,” he teased. 

You nodded, burying your head in his chest. “They are. They really are.”

He wrapped his arms around you and held you tight. “I’m glad.”

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y/nverstappen

liked by charlesleclerc, maxverstappen, and 8,983,837 others

y/nverstappen SHORT N SWEET OUT ON THE 6TH OF APRIL BITCHES!!!!!!! ROYAL COURT (with lady broski) OUT ON THE 8TH OF APRIL BITCHES!!!!

comments

user8: prepare to be SICK of me

brittanybroski: ROYAL COURT MENTIONED 💯💯💯💯💯💯 -> liked by y/nverstappen

user999: SHE'S GLOWING

user7: not the grinch picture 💀

maxverstappen: Congratulations Y/n! -> liked by y/nverstappen

user66: DID ANYONE ELSE SEE WHO WAS AT HER SHOW????? -> user92: LITERALLY! -> user933: charles what is you doing here loca?

calebhearon: SHE'S STUNNING -> liked by y/nverstappen

oliviarodrigo: and she's serving. as per usual. liked by y/nverstappen -> user88: LOCA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE -> user22: THE GIRLS ARE HEALING.

user09: now i need to know who bed chem is about... -> user44: thick accent... (charles leclerc) -> user94: officer it's this one! -> user88: on MY cellular device? -> user21: me when i'm delusional.

user802: BED CHEM ATE SO FUCKING HARD OMFG

user213: where is her family? she sold out the O2 for 4 consecutive nights AND is releasing her second album, and they're nowhere to be seen? jos 'i support my daughter' verstappen my ASS. -> user2342: right? It's so unfair, her entire life has been built around max and he couldn't even go see her on the biggest night of her life while pierre gasly and charles leclerc can? It's bullshit.

user90: she's so hot i cannot do this anymore.

user87: charles lurking in the likes...? -> user36: tbf a lot of the drivers follow her, it could be a coincidence.

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f1gossip

liked by pierregasly, landonorris, and 890,848 others

f1gossip Drivers Charles LeClerc and Pierre Gasly were seen at a Y/n Verstappen concert in London this week! They seemed to be enjoying themselves, though there was no sign of Max anywhere!

comments

user88: pierre and lando are messy

user99: WHERE WAS MAX? THIS WAS Y/N'S BIG MOMENT???

user929023: OMFG BED CHEM IS ABOUT CHARLES WTF -> user97437: no it's not she can't steal my husband -> user4: she can, and she did

user772: he looks so drunk in the last photo lmao

user942: WHAT A SUPPORTIVE BOYFRIEND!

user847: Pierre's sunglasses are taking me out rn 💀 -> pierregasly: what's wrong with them? -> user88: ARE CHARLES AND Y/N TOGETHER??? -> pierregasly: 🤷🤷🤷

user92: they'd be so cute together!!!!

user902: omfg max would KILL him if they're together

user935841: do we all remember the interview where max said he'd fucking shove any of the drivers off the track if they went for his sister? like does charles have a death with? is he not despressed enough?

user91234: charles when i catch you

user7: if he stole my wife, i'm going to be pissed (i've never met her and she doesn't know i exist)

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"People saw you today," you yawned, laying in bed with Charles. The concert was over, and Charles had surprised you with his presence, though it was more than welcome. You were both lying in the luxurious hotel bed as you settled down for sleep, his arms wrapping around you.

He nodded. "I know. I just thought people would assume we're friends though."

You rolled your eyes. Bullshit. “You’re such a bad liar,” you chuckled as his jaw dropped at the accusation. 

“I am not lying!” he stressed, but his smirk gave him away. 

“Charles LeClerc, you wanted people to find out, didn’t you?” you gasped, hitting him with a pillow. 

“I did not!” he hit you back.

What ensued after was a pillow fight that ended with you holding him down against the bed, and his lips on yours. The amount of alcohol you'd both consumed meant that the kiss was messy, but amazing all the same. It was all teeth and tongue, all passion, all Charles.

“You were so pretty up there,” he whispered against your mouth, completely at your mercy. “Felt like you were singing just to me.”

You chuckled, pulling back. “Oh yeah?”

He nodded, biting his lip. “So perfect,” he sighed. 

“I still think you wanted people to find out,” you argued, getting off of him. 

“Well of course,  but that’s-”

“Charles!” you squealed.

"My love!" he chuckled, holding you closer. "How in the world, do you expect me to try and hide the fact that I love you-?"

He was interrupted by your phone ringing. You groaned, he groaned, yet you got up and sat up, grabbing it, answering without looking at the caller id.

"Are you dating Charles?" Max's voice sobered you up pretty quickly. You stuttered for a moment, then laughed.

"W-what?" you questioned. "No."

He huffed from the other side of the phone. "Are you sure? What was he doing at your show?"

You rolled your eyes. "I don't know, maybe he actually enjoys my music and wanted to come see me? Is that so outlandish?"

"You know that's not what I'm saying."

"Yeah, you're not even interested in my life enough to ask. The shows were great, thanks for asking dickhead," you scoffed before ending the call and blocking his number. He was so... self-involved. He'd stopped caring about you and your interests when you were only kids, too focused on the plan to notice that fact that you were there, and that you adored your big brother. Nevertheless, he didn't care, so you had to stop caring too.

"Are you alright?" Charles whispered, wrapping an arm around you.

You nodded, too fragile to answer. You knew you'd break down crying if you answered verbally, so that would have to do.

"I'm sorry," he pressed gentle but grounding kisses to your neck and back as you gave yourself a moment to soak it all in. "I know how hard this is on you. I'm sorry."

"I don't want you to apologise for loving me," you whispered, your voice breaking.

He chuckled. "I'll never apologise for that," he smiled against your skin. "I'm just sorry that your family are... difficult."

You nodded, leaning into him. "They are."

"You were radiant up on that stage tonight," he beamed. "Don't let them dim your light, please baby."

You nodded. "You're right. No more dimming lights."

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The song was simple and from your next album, it could be your second single of the album, and you knew it was catchy and good. It was a good plan, a great plan, even. You and Charles would hard launch your relationship to the world with a music video appearance. Not only would it show the world your relationship, it would also be a great way to generate buzz for your upcoming album. Win-win. The idea was sexy and cool, and shooting it was as much fun as you'd imagined (aka, a lot of kisses, a lot of him touching you, and a lot of retakes), and by the end of the shoot you were convinced it was your best video yet.

You weren't going to tell Max before the video came out. You weren't interested in getting two different lectures, so you decided you'd prefer one long one. Charles supported your decision, and didn't tell anyone shit until the night the video came out.

By then, it was fair game.

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charlesleclerc & y/nverstappen

liked by pierregasly, arthurleclerc, oscarpiastri and 6,893,234 others

charlesleclerc isn't she lovely? please, please, please mv out now.

comments

user92: YOU'RE JOKING

user23: WHAT A PERFECT COUPLE

user9535: stood up and applauded.

user76: this is my niche and i'm so here for it.

brittanybroski: MY WOMAN, NOOOOOOOOO

user024: she's perfect. she is so perfect.

user924084208: can i be her when I grow up? (i'm 34)

user3: she's kind of a slut... -> user9: please please please for the love of god shut the fuck up

user45: idk who I want to be more -> user83: charles. -> user82: charles. -> user08424: charles. -> user36824: charles. -> user24: charles. -> user1: charles. -> user56: charles. -> user75: charles.

pierregasly: KNEW IT FROM THE START ->charlesleclerc: is that because we told you or...? -> pierregasly: trying to steal my thunder rn is CRAZY -> charlesleclerc: trying to make this about yourself rn is CRAZY -> y/nverstappen: BOTH of you are acting like idiots, please refrain

y/nverstappen: ilysm -> charlesleclerc: i adore you -> user923: sleeping on the highway tonight!

lewishamilton: :) -> charlesleclerc: thanks bud :)

user834: what does he see in her?

user2: what does she see in him?

user5: is she aware of his cheating scandals in the past? -> user34: it's almost like people can grow and change! hope this helps xxx

user645: she is about to get her heart broken

user2321: she couldn't have picked someone more... suited to her? -> user8: mate she's a popstar and the sister of Max Verstappen, what about Charles LeClerc isn't 'suited' to her?

francocolapinto: 😍😍😍 -> user830: what is blud doing?

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y/nverstappen

liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, pierregasly, and 4,873,933 others

y/nverstappen just 2 days until the album, here's so photos of yours truly to hold you over 💋

comments

user935: anyone notice how max has been MIA and angry since her London shows?? -> user5684: i'm employed what does this mean? -> user33: stop trying to stir shit up bro

charlesleclerc: beautiful girl liked by y/nverstappen

user88: max looked like he was ready to kill charles today lmao

user93940924: she's glowing

user6: not mentioning charles i see... -> user9: girl fuck off -> user4: they've been publicly dating for 2 days, calm down.

user09: sigh... i could treat you better y/n... -> charlesleclerc: no you could not. -> pierregasly: let's reel it in buddy ffs -> charlesleclerc: what??? is defending my honour cringe now? -> pierregasly: not just now, it always was.

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When the album launched, you were nestled in your apartment, alone. You were so excited for a night nice in, but of course, your plans were foiled by a knock on the door, and an outpour of dutch from your brother's lips.

"Fuck off Max," you shouted from your side of the door. "I don't want to talk to you."

"I'm missing a race for this," he sighed, his voice softer than you'd heard it.

You opened the door, and he did something unexpected. He hugged you. A full-blown tight hug, the kind he hadn't given you since you were a kid.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "Why didn't you tell me?"

You shrugged, pulling out of the hug. "I wasn't interested in the lecture."

"But I know Charles, I could've... I don't know, helped?" he paced around your kitchen. "I just... I don't understand why you felt like you couldn't tell me."

"Max, you said you'd shove anyone off track if they went for me, so I don't understand your disconnect. I'm happy with Charles, like really fucking happy. He makes me feel great, and he cares about me. He loves me. And I'm so sick of trying to make myself smaller so that i can fit into your life. I adore you Max, genuinely, I do. You're my big brother and I love you, and you should be celebrated for your incredible accomplishments, but so should I. I'm not going to sit here and make myself any more unhappy just because it'll make your life easier. I-I won't do it. I want to be able to post my boyfriend, go support him at races, and everything else all the other girlfriends can do. I'm not going to hide him or myself to make you more comfortable," you pushed through the tears building behind your eyes, and stared him right in the eyes. He needed to hear that your life wasn't just about him.

He was quiet for a moment. "I'm happy for you, and I'm sorry that I'm not very good at... being there for you."

He looked uncomfortable. He'd never been very good with his emotions, so that was probably the best you were going to get.

"Thank you," you smiled. "And you really didn't have to miss a race for me, but thank you anyways."

He nodded. "I care about you. I want you to be happy," he explained, looking down.

You were both silent for a few seconds.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" you offered.

He looked up and smiled. Same old Max. Same old you.

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y/nverstappen

liked by landonorris, charlesleclerc, maxverstappen, and 6,243, 563 others

y/nverstappen: and she's out! thank you all so much for the love, mwah!

comments on this post have been limited

maxverstappen: Very proud!

charlesleclerc: i love you so much you're so pretty (please please please let me come over tonight)

landonorris: SHARPEST TOOL IS SUCH A BANGER liked by y/nverstappen

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navigation for my blog :)

ferrari masterlist

[montag-guy]

“You know my name,” said Montag.

Granger nodded to a portable battery TV set by the fire. “We’ve watched the chase. Figured you’d wind up south along the river. When we heard you plunging around out in the forest like a drunken elk, we didn’t hide as we usually do. We figured you were in the river, when the helicopter cameras swung back in over the city. Something funny there. The chase is still running. The other way, though.”

“The other way?”

“Let’s have a look.” Granger snapped the portable viewer on. The picture was a nightmare, condensed, easily passed from hand to hand, in the forest, all whirring color and flight. A voice cried: “The chase continues north in the city! Police helicopters are converging on Avenue 87 and Elm Grove Park!”

Granger nodded. “They’re faking. You threw them off at the river. They can’t admit it. They know they can hold their audience only so long. The show’s got to have a snap ending, quick! If they started searching the whole damn river it might take all night. So they’re sniffing for a scapegoat to end things with a bang. Watch. They’ll catch Montag in the next five minutes!”

“But how—”

“Watch.” The camera, hovering in the belly of a helicopter, now swung down at an empty street:

“See that?” whispered Granger. “It’ll be you; right up at the end of that street is our victim. See how our camera is coming in? Building the scene. Suspense. Long shot. Right now, some poor fellow is out for a walk. A rarity. An odd one. Don’t think the police don’t know the habits of queer ducks like that, men who walk mornings for the hell of it, or for reasons of insomnia. Anyway, the police have had him charted for months, years. Never know when that sort of information might be handy. And today, it turns out, it’s very usable indeed. It saves face. Oh, God, look there!”

The men at the fire bent forward. On the screen, a man turned a corner. The Mechanical Hound rushed forward into the viewer, suddenly. The helicopter lights shot down a dozen brilliant pillars that built a cage all about the man.

A voice cried, “There’s Montag! The search is done!

The innocent man stood bewildered, a cigarette burning in his hand. He stared at the Hound, not knowing what it was. He probably never knew. He glanced up at the sky and the wailing sirens. The camera rushed down. The Hound leapt up into the air with a rhythm and a sense of timing that was incredibly beautiful. Its needle shot out. It was suspended for a moment in their gaze, as if to give the vast audience time to appreciate everything, the raw look of the victim’s face, the empty street, the steel animal a bullet nosing the target.

“Montag, don’t move!” said a voice from the sky. The camera fell upon the victim, even as did the Hound. Both reached him simultaneously. The victim was seized by Hound and camera in a great spidering, clenching grip. He screamed. He screamed. He screamed!

Blackout.

Silence.

Darkness.

Montag cried out in the silence and turned away.

Silence.

And then, after a time of the men sitting around the fire, their faces expressionless, an announcer on the dark screen said, “The search is over, Montag is dead; a crime against society has been avenged.”

Darkness.

“We now take you to the Sky Room of the Hotel Lux for a half hour of Just-Before-Dawn, a program of—” Granger turned it off.

“They didn’t show the man’s face in focus. Did you notice? Even your best friends couldn’t tell if it was you. They scrambled it just enough to let the imagination take over. Hell,” he whispered. “Hell.”

Montag said nothing but now, looking back, sat with his eyes fixed to the black screen, trembling.

Granger touched Montag’s arm. “Welcome back from the dead.” Montag nodded.

Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451°

[hencheri]

make you mine

18+ mdni.

You've never suspected the evil would have taken the form of Jay, a hot guy from your college, but when he takes interest in you, you rapidly discover the secret he's been hiding.

pairing: jock!jay x fem!reader

wc: 5.7k

warnings: graphic description of gore (mention of blood & injuries), dubcon, implied inexperienced!reader, unprotected sex, jay's kinda mean but hey he's evil so ain't my fault lol.

a.n.: jennifer's body au cause why not. old fic from an old blog, but it's still my fav of all time <3

Jay thinks he never felt that much pain in his whole entire life. It’s like his soul is screaming from the inside out, as if someone stabbed him in the stomach, tearing his guts apart. 

Oh, but that’s what actually happened…

How can he still be alive? He swears he was dead seconds ago, losing liters of blood through the cut in his stomach. But he’s very much conscious right now, getting out of the woods he was brutally murdered in. 

Well, is it still even murder if he survived? 

It doesn’t matter anymore anyway. All he can think about at this moment is how hungry he is. He would devour anything he can put his hand on, and god, why does the person on the other side of the street look so… edible? 

He feels the dried blood that dripped from his mouth stick to his skin as his hands are stained in the same red substance, holding his stomach where, surprisingly, he is no longer bleeding from.The pain is atrocious, but he needs to fucking eat, and so he approaches the person faster. 

The moment they notice him, their eyes grow bigger and they let out a strident scream, but Jay gives them no time to leave.

He doesn’t know what in the hell possesses him to jump on that poor human, his teeth becoming sharper than they ever were, shredding their neck in pieces, their screams slowly dying down as he eats like a starved animal.

The fresh blood is coating the dried layer on his chin. He feels like an uncontrollable beast, and he’s literally acting like one right now. No one with a right mind would have ever done this… but it’s like he isn’t a human. 

He was revived from the dead, there’s nothing human about him anymore. Nothing.

He has an idea as to why this happened. 

Those girls — that girl band who he seemed so enthralled by — sacrificed him, and for what…? For fame? For money? Whatever it is, they killed the wrong person because obviously the sacrifice didn’t fucking work. He’s still very much alive. 

He’s cursed now, that’s for sure. Or whatever the hell is happening to him. 

He looks down at his victim; it’s a man. 

He suddenly feels nauseous, vomiting what he had so far swallowed. A dark liquid comes out of his mouth, and god, it’s even more painful than the cut in his stomach. 

He feels disgusted by himself — why isn’t he full? Eating felt so good, considering how starved he was, but it’s like he ate something … expired. 

What’s wrong with him… He ate someone’s guts, of course it doesn’t taste like a 5 stars meal. Then why did his instinct tell him to do that? 

That’s fucked up. 

The next few days are horrible for Jay. 

After that night, he doesn’t eat anything except for raw chicken and other types of meat that are just not enough to satiate him. It doesn't taste good either. 

He lays in bed most of the time, having no energy, skipping the gym and his practices, which he usually never does. He gets texts from his friends, but he doesn’t bother to check his phone. 

It’s on Sunday night that he decides to leave his bed, going to look at himself in the mirror. He has big dark circles under his eyes — not particularly flattering. He’s still very hungry, but none of the food in his fridge makes him want to eat. 

There’s one thing he’d want, though… 

It’s when he receives a text from a specific person that he knows what to do. 

iseul: hey, jay. wanna study together for the finals?

—-

“Hey, man,” Jay’s teammate, Jungwon, greets him. “Heard about Hana? That’s fucked up,” he says, walking beside his friend. “And right after Iseul… My parents refuse my sister to go out alone now.”

“Yeah, I heard,” Jay replies, not really caring, but still listening. 

It’s not like anybody liked Hana before, he doesn’t understand why everybody suddenly cares now that she’s dead. She needed to die to finally have some importance. How sad. 

She wasn’t that good of a laid either, so really, what’s the matter? Sure, it’s tragic, but who’s going to miss her besides her family. 

“Can’t be an animal at this point,” his teammate says under his breath, “Do you wanna know what I’m thinking?”

Not really…

“What?”

“I’m thinking it’s gotta be some ‘Jack the Ripper’ kinda guy. You know those freaks who wanna be the modern this or that.”

Kind of offensive… 

Jay rolls his eyes without Jungwon noticing, snickering at his words.

“The police’s saying it’s a bear or some shit,” Jay explains, reaching his class. “That’s more believable than your ‘modern Jack the Ripper’.” He mimics quotes with his fingers, stopping in front of the classroom. 

Jungwon still doesn’t seem convinced, but it’s not Jay’s job to make him less stupid. He can believe what he wants, he’s not an investigator even though he thinks he is. 

“See you at practice, alright?”

“Yeah, later, man.”

Jay has never been very attentive in class. He doesn’t care about a lot of things and college is one of them. He wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for his parents and their high expectations of him. 

He’s looking outside the windows, noticing the grey clouds, heavy rain pouring from the sky. A flash of lighting breaks through the sky, hearing the thunder a second after. 

Nobody seems attentive either, all interested in the thunderstorm that’s starting. It might be the strongest they’ve seen in a couple of years. 

“Crap,” the teacher says as the electricity is cut off, surely because of the thunder. 

Girls are gasping, some of them whispering to each other about how creepy the situation is while the professor waits for the power to get back on.

Jay’s phone lights up as he gets a new notification. He takes a look, reading the text he just received. 

jungwon: practice’s canceled.. 

Great, Jay thinks. He really needed to get some steam off, but it won’t happen today. 

“Sir!” A girl raises her hand, catching the attention of the professor. “All classes got canceled. Can we leave? Apparently the power isn’t coming back for a few hours.”

The professor seems quite disappointed, but he lets everyone go back home, seeing no point in staying if he can’t teach. 

While exiting the classroom, Jay gets bumped into by someone. He doesn’t move much, but the person drops their books on the floor, bending down to pick them up hurriedly. 

“Shit… Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you apologize, standing back up when you have all of your books in your arms.

“It’s fine,” Jay mumbles and you give him a straight smile.

He recognizes you from highschool, a girl he never talked to, but who he knew the name of. Then, he watches you walking away for a short moment, eyeing the curves of your silhouette, memorizing it. 

—-

You’re in the cafeteria, sitting with your friends, waiting for about a good 30 minutes now. The storm from yesterday is still ongoing, and the power is very unstable, cutting off every now and then.

The finals are scheduled for today and the administration told the students to come regardless of the storm, thinking it would stop during the night. So you’re waiting to be sent to the gym where the exams are usually taking place, but seeing the electricity goes off and comes back every second, it isn’t the best time to start an exam. 

People are free to go, it’s college after all, but most of the students are staying in case a decision is made. You know you wouldn’t want to skip your exam, that’s why you’re staying, even though it’s starting to get really long. 

No murder has happened since the beginning of the storm, confirming the police suspicions that it might be a wild animal doing this. A bear wouldn’t come out during a thunderstorm, hence why no bodies have been found or anyone going missing. 

You don’t really know what to think of the whole thing. You never really experienced anything of the sort before, only ever seen it in the news, taking place in a far away city. Now, it’s really different to be a witness of it.

You don’t understand how an animal would do such a thing, especially since they aren’t known to attack humans, or… eat them. But everybody is kind of desperate to find a culprit. 

As you’re looking through your notes, you notice that you’re missing a piece of information that you absolutely need to know for your test. You would ask your friends, but none of them are in this class with you. Plus, you forgot your book so the only solution would be to go to the library. 

The place is lit up by candles and oil lamps. The power doesn’t seem to have come back here either. 

The librarian isn’t even here, so you can’t ask her for directions, which would be really useful, but you’ll do without. You go to the biology section and start searching for the book you need. It takes you some time, carefully looking through the shelves until you notice an older edition of the book. You hope what you need is in there.

You start flipping the pages to the right chapter, but you jump out of surprise and drop the book to the floor at the sound of someone else’s voice. 

“Aren’t you supposed to attend your exam?”

It’s the guy you bumped into yesterday; Jay. 

What’s weird is that you didn’t hear him at all, you could have sworn you were alone in the library. You suppose he’s a really quiet walker.

“Uh, y-yeah,” you stammer out, furrowing your brows. You bend down to pick up the book, his eyes following your movements closely. “Just had to come here for this,” you say and show the object in question in your hand. “What about you?”

He leans on the shelves beside him. 

“Didn’t feel like wasting my time back there,” he explains and you nod, not really sure what he wants exactly… It’s not like you’re friends or anything.

You can’t see much of him with the low lighting in the library, but you still catch on the way he’s looking at you intently. It makes you slightly uncomfortable, considering he’s towering over you with all his height. And Jay is very tall compared to you. 

“Is- Is there something else you wanted to ask me…?” You manage to let out, voice a bit shaky and uneasy. 

“Are you scared?” he asks casually.

He steps closer to you, and you don’t understand why you don’t step back. It’s like you don’t dare.

“What?”

“The storm. Pretty intense, right?”

Is he really interested to know if you’re scared of storms or is he playing with you? Why would he even play with you in the first place, that’s what you wonder. 

His behaviour really confuses you. It’s true that you don’t know him, but he isn’t the type of guy to just… creep girls out. Maybe it’s not his intention though?

“Oh, yeah… it’s nothing I've ever seen before,” you confess in a small voice. 

“Me neither,” Jay replies. 

You hold the book against you tighter like it’s some sort of protection, or just as emotional support. You don’t know what’s up with him, but it has you feeling some type of way… 

You feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter as he gets even closer, trapping you between him and the bookshelves. 

Yes, you’re scared, but not of the storm… of him.

And… there’s a part of you that likes it — likes the attention he gives you, the way his dark eyes look at your body. His gaze makes you think of a carnivore, a predator. 

You’re the food he was looking for. 

“It’s really loud, isn’t it?” he observes. “I wonder… if you had to scream, would anybody hear you?”

That startles you right away. 

“Jay-” Saying his name seems to catch his attention, his eyes looking directly into yours. “Stop it.”

He doesn’t break eye contact, and you’re destabilized by how long he can hold your gaze, a shiver running down your spine, making the hair on your arms stand up. 

It’s only to whisper in your ear that his eyes leave yours. 

“Stop what exactly?”

His hot breath hits the side of your neck, hearing your heart pounding in your chest, the knot in your stomach becoming heavier and heavier. Your hands clasp around your book, holding onto it for dear life as you gulp down the excess of saliva in your mouth. 

You scrunch your eyes shut when you feel his hands on your hips, fingers sneaking under the hem of your top. Your core heats up, blood rushing to your cheeks.

“What do you want?” You breathe out, opening your eyes when Jay faces you again. 

He takes the book from you, putting it back onto the shelves, not caring if it’s the wrong placement. 

“Just a little bit of fun,” he answers, “wouldn’t you like that, hm?” He slips his index finger under the band of your skirt then, pulling you closer to him, his lips only centimetres away from yours. “I know girls like you are too shy to ask for it… So I’m making the first move.” 

“No, I-” You begin, but don’t have the time to finish your sentence. 

“It’s fine, I’m gonna take the lead. You don’t have to worry about anything, pretty,” he tells you, tilting his head and pressing a light kiss to your lips. Surprisingly, you reciprocate it. He pulls his hand away from your skirt, putting it around your neck instead. “I knew you’d be into it, you’re a little freak, aren’t you?” 

You don’t know what to answer. Is there even anything you can say back to him? What’s the point of lying when he has you trapped between his large body and the bookshelves, his slender fingers gripping your neck, his lips brushing over your face. 

But would that be really a lie saying he’s wrong about you? He doesn’t know you…

He kisses you again, this time sloppier, his tongue dominating yours easily. He nudges your legs open with his knee, his other hand swiftly diving under the hem of your skirt, groping your flesh in a lewd way that keeps you out of breath — apart from the fact that his tongue is currently exploring your mouth. 

He graces the bump of your pussy with his knuckles, making your knees buckle at the unexpected contact. He rubs the pad of his middle finger over your clit, a whine escaping your throat, muffled by his mouth on yours. The moment is brief until he slips his hand into your underwear. 

You try to make him stop by grabbing his wrist, pulling away from his lips to pathetically whisper a ‘please’ that makes him chuckle. 

“Already begging for me, sweetheart?” He softly laughs, smirking at you. “Excited by the idea of a guy’s fingers in your little cunt instead of yours? Is that it?”

You frown because that wasn’t the reason why you begged him, but now that he said this… your thoughts are going into a completely different way. What’s wrong with you?

“Do you wanna know how it feels, baby? How it’s like to have your pussy stuffed by someone else’s fingers…” 

He’s not waiting for an answer as he starts stroking your bud of nerves in slow circular motions, applying some pressure to really make you feel it. You let out another whine, this time of pleasure. 

Jay then shifts down to your entrance, circling it with a lot of delicacy, but this gentleness of his doesn’t go on for long as he pushes a finger into you. You bite down on your bottom lip — the size of his fingers are in no comparison to yours. Your eyes well up in tears, little cries escaping your mouth when he adds a second digit. 

“I know, I know,” he whispers, “must be uncomfortable, hm?” You nod your head, confirming his words. “It’ll feel good soon, I promise. You’re used to the feel of your tiny fingers, it’s normal…”

When he says this, you have a hard time believing him. How could it feel good when you weren’t at all prepared for this — when it’s not what you wanted. 

He begins to move his fingers inside of you, slow and long strokes at first, circling your clit with his thumb at the same time. He curls his fingers, making a little hook, patting your sweet spot. The intrusion is uncomfortable, but it progressively gets so much more pleasurable as he thrusts into you at a regular pace. 

Tears are still falling down from your eyes, eyelashes wet and sticky, but they aren’t the result of your pain… 

“You’re pretty when you cry,” Jay murmurs beside your ear, butterflies in your stomach when he tells you this. 

He unwraps his hand from your throat to instead grab your thigh, placing your leg around his hip. You now feel his fingers way deeper inside of you, gently and deliciously stimulating your g-spot. You dare to look down where his left hand is operating between your thighs, sliding in until he’s knuckles deep into your pussy. This makes you breathless, head rolling back on your shoulders and hitting the shelves behind you. 

“Oh, my god-!” You exclaim when Jay’s ministrations bring you so close to your orgasm. Your legs are twitching, your body warning you of your approaching high.

You’d probably be more aware of his hard cock trapped in his baggy jeans, but you literally cannot focus on anything else other than Jay fingering you, hitting your sensitive spot each time he thrusts in. 

“That’s it, baby,” he encourages, moving faster. “You feel it? Huh?” He asks and you croak out a weak ‘yes’. “Tell me how it feels.”

You hate his questions — you hate them so much. He knows how you feel, but he wants you to say it, he wants you to say that you enjoy it, and… your body really does. 

“G-Good.”

“Yeah?” he breathes out, fucking your cunt with his fingers, enthralled by the little moans you let out.

“Yes,” you confirm, closing your eyes and nodding your head. “Fuck!” You curse out when you finally reach your high, grasping onto his forearm as you ride out your orgasm, your entire body shaking. 

Jay helps you by slowly rubbing your puffy clit in circles, telling you more dirty words in your ear, all said in the sweetest voice, as if what he’s doing can be described as anything sweet. 

“Good girl,” he praises, “see, I told you it’d feel great.”

He still has his head in the crook of your neck, and you frown at the feeling of sharp teeth against your skin. It’s barely there, just brushing over it, as if hesitating to act… but Jay retrieves back, looking into your reddened eyes. 

He could stop there, but he won’t — though he got what he wanted, he needs more… 

He pulls his hand out of your panties, fingers glistening in your arousal. “Open wide for me, baby,” he instructs. 

You glance at his hand, a little repulsed. You’ve never thought of tasting yourself and it’s surely nothing you’d have ever done if not for Jay. 

You then reluctantly open your mouth and he enters his wet fingers in. 

“Suck,” he adds on, expecting you to follow his orders, and you do without a second thought. 

He stares down at you while you lick his fingers clean and he slides them a bit deeper, pushing down on your tongue. The taste of yourself isn’t what you thought it’d be… It doesn’t taste much, in fact. 

He removes his fingers from your mouth only to put them in his own after. “As sweet as you are,” he grins. “Turn around.”

You hesitate for a moment, looking at him credulously, before doing what he asked you to do on trembling legs. 

“Are you…?” You say under your breath, looking over your shoulder and seeing Jay pulling the zipper of his pants down. 

“Going to put my cock into you?” he finishes your question, “yeah, I am.”

You stop breathing at his answer, sensing his deft fingers touching your thighs and hips, going under your skirt to drag your panties down. 

He soon gets his cock out of his briefs, pumping himself a couple of times before aligning his head with your dripping entrance. His right hand keeps your skirt crumpled up over your ass, laying the other one on your hip. 

“Careful, sweetheart,” he says softly beside your ear, “because this might sting a little bit more than two fingers.” He swipes the head of his cock through your sticky folds and all you can do is moan pathetically at the feeling, lewd, wet noises echoing in the big library. 

You can’t see his length even with the way you contort your head to look over your shoulder, but you’re still able to see his chest and hips moving as he pushes his cock into your pussy. Though you have no idea what he looks like, the painful feeling of your cunt getting stretched out to his size tells you he’s really big. 

And he was right. This hurts way more than his fingers, the two feelings are not comparable at all. 

“Jay-,” you cry out, holding onto the shelves in front of you till there’s no more blood in your knuckles. 

He hears you, loving the sounds you’re making because of him and the way you say his name with eyes full of tears. When he bottoms out inside of you, his pelvis flushed against your ass, he lets out a low grunt and throws his head back, closing his eyes to savour the pleasure entirely. 

You involuntarily clench around him, making him tighten his grip on your hip. He then starts thrusting into you, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy at a slow but harsh pace. Each time he bottoms out, Jay makes sure the skin of his thighs slap against your ass, the sounds almost as loud as your little moans and whimpers. 

But the storm is so intense and noisy that he’s pretty sure nobody else in the library could hear you — if there was anyone else here apart from the two of you anyway. 

Your wetness allows him to fuck his cock into your pussy back and forth, welcoming him so perfectly without any restraint. It’s almost impossible for him to not hit your sweet spot, and he reaches so much deeper when he lifts up your thigh with the hand that was previously placed on your hip. 

You don’t know how long you can stay in this position, especially when Jay’s drilling his cock into you like nothing else matters. It’s like he needs it from you, and as the pleasure only builds up in you, you start thinking you need it desperately, too. 

You’re breathing heavily, and so is he, feeling his hot breath on your neck when he tilts his head down closer to yours. You can clearly hear his breathing now as well as his deep grunts that leave his mouth every time your walls close tightly around his girth, literally sucking him in. 

“Shit,” he curses out as he pushes lightly on your back, deepening the arch of it so your ass is flushed against his pelvis. “How could I have ever missed out on you… You’re so- fuck,” Jay chokes out, not finishing his sentence, but you have a guess on what he wanted to say. 

He then kisses your neck pretty messily, but it only raises the temperature of your body, your skin boiling hot under his soft lips. He leaves a wet trail behind, going up to your ear, down to your shoulder. 

Telling him to stop isn’t even possible anymore, it wouldn’t make any sense… would be absolutely stupid when you’re so close to your second orgasm. 

As he thrusts into you, his balls slap your pussy, and the sounds are just too vulgar, but it’s honestly arousing you so much. Jay lets go of your thigh to take a hold of your jaw, turning it around so he can look at your face. 

Your mouth is ajar to let out big puffs of air, and it’s the same for him, his breathing being irregular and heavy. He didn’t think he would ever need something that badly, which is making you his, surprisingly enough. 

Making you his in whatever way possible; whether it’s by fucking you or eating you — or both. Jay doesn’t care, he just wants it. 

It doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to pass through you, arms and legs shaking as the knot at the pit of your stomach snaps. Jay feels it very clearly, your walls hugging his cock terribly tightly, bringing him closer to his own orgasm as well.

“Holy fuck,” he hisses, his hip thrusts accelerating, literally burying his cock in your cunt until he slips out. He rapidly strokes himself and cums on your ass, strings of white cum falling on you. “Oh, god…”

He stays in this position for a couple of seconds, catching his breath. He then slightly backs away, making sure to keep your skirt crumpled up over your butt, looking at the mess he made of you. 

Suddenly, you both catch on the voices entering the library, making you rush to dress up and clean yourselves. 

—-

You’re in your bedroom, studying and writing down in your notebook while lying on your bed. It’s relatively quiet in your house, hearing the TV downstairs playing and the ceiling fan above your head running. 

The ringtone of your cell phone breaks the silence, buzzing on top of your bedsheets. It’s a number that you don’t recognize, but the first digitals show that it’s a number from your area, so you pick it up. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, pretty.”

“Uh, who is this?” You ask the person on the other side of the line because you have no idea who would call you like this. They must know you.

“Take a guess,” they say, and their tone is oddly flirty. 

You frown, starting to remember where you heard this voice for the last time… And in which situation exactly. 

“... Jay?” 

He laughs at that and you can imagine the cheeky smile he’s sporting right now. 

“You got it,” he replies, “see, I knew you’d remember me.” 

You immediately feel uneasy despite the fact you’re just talking through the phone, but things have happened since your encounter with Jay.

Things such as more dead girls, all brutally murdered by this supposed ‘animal’. 

You suspected nothing until you noticed how tired looking Jay was a day or two after what happened in the library. Normally, you wouldn’t have looked at him, but you literally couldn’t get him out of your head after how intimate the both of you had been. 

Every time he was in the same hallway as you, you’d give him a glance and nothing more as you were too shy to talk to him or even look at him for too long. 

But sometimes you dared to watch him a little longer when he didn’t know you were there. 

And you saw the dark circles, the bad attitude he had with his friends, and the disdain look he seemed to give to everybody. You also saw him get in his car with a girl. You were jealous for a second, but you felt totally different the next day when that same girl went missing and that Jay was doing fine again. 

At first, it was just silly thoughts, but it was too strong of a coincidence, you couldn’t think about anything else. 

Jay’s an incubus.

“Yeah…” You say back, shoulders tense as you sit up on your bed. “How did you get my number?” 

“Asked Jungwon for it,” he simply explains. “You did a project back in highschool together. Remember?”

You do remember. You were so stressed out about it. Paired with a popular jock? You believed the teacher was against you, but it turned out that Jungwon was way nicer than you thought.

“Luckily, you didn’t change numbers.”

Lucky for who?

“Right,” you huff out, looking through your window, a shiver passing through you at the thought of Jay hiding somewhere.

“What’re you doing?” he asks.

“Uhm, just studying… Why?” 

“Wanna go out with me?” Jay proposes after a few seconds of silence. 

You look through your window again. It’s dark outside. This would be such a bad idea… 

“It’s 9 p.m. on a Thursday night,” you begin, sounding way too bitchy for his liking, “where would we go? And why would I even go out with you…”

“The park’s always open,” he adds.

“What-”

“Relax. Nothing bad gonna happen, alright?" his voice resonates through the phone, hearing a slight laugh after. "I miss you, that's all."

You bite down on your lip, shaking your head to get all of your stupid thoughts away. As much as you hate to admit it, you love hearing that from Jay. That’s all you wanted him to say since he left you in the library… tell you he needs you as much as you need him. 

But this isn’t the time for that — there won’t ever be another time anyway. 

You respond nothing and so he takes it as a yes. “Send me your address, I’ll come pick you up in 10 minutes. Put something pretty on,” he chuckles, hanging up. 

—-

The park isn’t an open space with benches and a fountain. It’s basically the woods where you go for hiking. There are paths you can follow that will all lead you to the same place at the end. 

You could have thought of something smarter, or less dangerous, but you didn’t have any time. Jay showed up at your entrance precisely 10 minutes after he hung up and you weren’t exactly ready to see him just yet. 

You had to get in his car anyway, the whole ride being quiet until you arrived at your destination. Your stomach churned up the moment you entered the woods, Jay behind you. 

Your heart is still beating super fast right now, whether it’s because you’re absolutely scared or because Jay is kissing you feverishly, it doesn’t matter. You can’t do this, and you don’t know how it might end for you if you let yourself be distracted by him. 

“Jay,” you manage to say between kisses. You push harder on his chest, making him stop from putting his tongue in your mouth. “We need to talk,” you say firmly. 

“About what?” he chuckles, diving back down to the crook of your neck where he plants wet kisses, his hand sneaking up under your dress while the other holds your hip. 

You squirm, fighting hard to not let yourself give in to his touch. 

“I saw… I saw Kazuha and you getting into your car the other day,” you confess and he backs away from your neck when he hears that, looking intently at your face. 

“And? You were jealous, is that it?” He questions, lifting one eyebrow. 

“No! I mean-,” you answer right after, thinking about what to say and how to say it. “She went missing the day after you saw her, and-”

Jay gets visibly annoyed, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth. He lets go of you, still looking at you, but not with lustful eyes anymore. 

“What? What are you trying to say, huh?” He huffs out. “That I killed her? Fucking crazy.”

Is he really guilty? He has to be. You know he is. 

“Back in the library,” you begin to say, “were you… did you intend to kill me?” You eventually say it all, breath caught in your throat as you watch Jay registering your words. 

He sighs, “why would it matter?” You frown at that, about to respond, but he steps closer to you, trapping you between him and the tree again. “Just let me take care of you, gonna make you feel so good, baby…” 

He slips his hands under your dress so rapidly that you don’t have any time to react, immediately overwhelmed by his groping and his lips all over you. 

But you get back to your senses, using all your force to push him away. You succeed to have a safe distance between the two of you.

“So you’re admitting it!? You wanted to- to do the same thing to me!”

“No,” he disagrees, his voice harsh, sounding quite annoyed. “I just wanted- Fuck!” he exclaims angrily, but it’s like he doesn’t know what to say. 

“You could have had everybody you wanted, Jay,” you state, looking him into the eyes, “why me?”

He looks back at you and you wonder how you couldn’t have seen it before… The evil. 

“Why not? You’re hot, kinda stuck-up, but I had to try it, you know,” he chuckles. “For a nerdy girl, you sure know how to take dick.”

This angers you to a point… 

“Fuck you!”

And without thinking twice, you reach down to pick up the pocket knife you hid in your boot before. 

You open it and you rush toward Jay, stabbing him in his lower stomach. You retrieve the knife a bit too hastily, resulting in you dropping it and falling down on your butt to the ground. 

Jay also falls down, holding onto his stomach, red blood dripping out of his cut onto his hands. He yells out many curses, sucking air through his teeth to appease the pain as much as he can. 

You watch him, startled and out of breath, eventually turning around and searching for your knife through the dirt and dead leaves. When you find it, you get back up and to Jay, but he isn’t there anymore.

He has completely disappeared. 

[colorlessjay]

s6dean is like so. so this kid. this son. was he like. did you?? plan him??

and s16cas is like lmao NO??

I imagine it going something like this: "Damn Cas. Never thought of ya as a dad type. Is the whole Apple Pie 2.5 kids life something you've always wanted or is this a new thing?"

"You're under the impression I planned to have children" Castiel laughs softly, as if the notion was silly "Oh no, Jack was an accident"

Dean pauses what he was doing, knife hovering over the onion he was cutting "... uh... a little harsh to say that about your son.."

Castiel takes a moment, his brows frown slightly before he lets out another, more hearty laugh "Perhaps I have worded myself harshly by your standards, but it's the truth. Jack refers to themselves as such. My husband finds it amusing how blunt we both are" There's a fond smile on his face as he cooks "He says Jack is like a mini me... It makes me so proud"

Dean chances a glance at Castiel's face and sees the hard lines of age. His heart squeezes uncomfortably in his chest seeing such a warm expression on someone he's so used to seeing stoic and cold

He wonders when he'll get to see HIS Cas look like that too...

"Jack's the second best accident that's ever happened to me" Castiel adds on, a clear joke that even makes Dean chuckle

"Oh yeah? What's the first?"

Castiel turns towards Dean, his smile fond and loving as he says "Falling in love"

The statement was directed at Dean, so warm and pure and real. But Dean couldn't explain the sudden feeling of a bullet lodged in his chest

His husband is a lucky man...

-----

Anyways, boop boop

[maenoakasuna]

{ All For Us }

The title will maybe change cause at first it was supposed to be a one shot, But it will be a multi part things.

Im really obsess with Thanos ( T.O.P ✨) And I litteraly watched Squid game for him.I necer watched it before. But anyway, back to buisness, I let you a summary of the whole thing it gonna be. Also be award : English is not my first language so im sorry for the mistakes ☠️

Thanos x Pregnant reader, but it’s new.

Y/N accepted to be part of the gamr to get money for her futur family and lat every debts she had since she met Thanos two years ago. He cheated on her and learn just after they broke up that she was pregnant. Meeting him again in the game wasnt part of the plan. Will you be able to stay alone, survive and keep your little secret ? Or will you admit you need Thanos by your side.

Smut will come, but not for this part. I will tell you when ✨

TW: Mention of drug, Violance.

You was Awake by a music who gave you creepy chills. It wasn’t a literal creepy song, more like something you could hear in an attraction park or something, but you it gave you a bad feeling. The light in the room was to bright, it took you time to adapt.

Looking around you, you noticed a lot of bed, many people and all dress the same. They all had numbers on their back or on their chest. 

You take a look at your hoodie to know your own number ; 017.

Staying in your bed you try to remember what happened. A guy gave you a visit card after you played a game with him. But he also gave you money when you won. Lucky for you, you always were good at Djaki, so You won at your first try. 

Slowly your memory came back. You accepted to play games to earn a lot of money after finding out you were pregnant.

Biting your bottom lips, you put your hand on your stomach. It was still small inside you, but you will need money to raise the child, especially after all the debts your ex boyfriend let you. You was a saint in that story. After all,a part of your debts are caused by you addiction to drug and alcool. It all started two years ago when you met him. He changed you, probably for the worst, but you loved him so much. You lost everything cause of him, cause of your addiction. Your parents dont want to ear about you anymore and your friends didn’t want to hang out with you. You lost everything for a stupid dumb and addict wanna be rapper. 

Thinking about all of this brings tears to your eyes, but you quickly whipped it. You refuse to cry again cause of this stupid dude.

The big door opened and guards wearing a pink one piece entered the room, armed with guns. All the attention was on them at the minute they arrived. They explain the situation you was all in. Some of them had questions and it was all legit. No one had their phone on them or any other personal objects. In your case, you didn’t really care. No phone mean no social media, no text from your ex or anyone who could harass you to got their money. Your only concern is when you gonna be home, maybe you will find a dirty appartement cause some of them will have bursted in.

Your eyes got on the Tv when the guard start to show some people here, call their name and say how much in debts they are in. You wasn’t really interested until your ear his name ; Choi Su-Bong. 

Your eyes started to scan the room, looking for him. Anxiety rushed in your veins, heart pudding until you saw him. He was in the crowd with his usual purple hair. 

Your hands started to shake, your breath was quicker, heavier. Normally when you felt that way, you took a pill to calm you down, but you can’t anymore.

Nervously you started to bite your fingernails. You closed your eyes and took a deep breathe, trying to control the anxiety. You silently cursed any gods out here or whatever other dinities to had put your ex in the same game as you. What was the fucking chances ? 

But at the same time, you weren't really surprised. He has double or triple the money you have to repay.

After everyone had a little more trust in the guards, they asked everyone to come to sign a paper about the four rules of the game. Nervously you get in line with the others, far away from Thanos. When it was your turn, you read the rules carefully and sign it.

The next step was the picture before the first game. You placed yourself in front of the camera and gave a small smile when the lady said to smile. It was more an anxious smile than a real one. After the picture you was on your way to follow the other but turn your head when you eared thanos voices. He was with a big group of girl and some guys for a group photo. Of course, even here he was popular. Even here he had to play it cool. If only they all knew who he really was. The only nice thing you could said about him was how easy he can connect with people. Something you would like to have. You never was the shy type or the kind of girl who was afraid to say what’s on her mind, but you’ve been called rude more time than you can remember ; Until Thanos

Two Years ago

You come out of the University after another endless class. You just go your last exam result and it was not what you hopped for. You could already ear your mom yell at you and saying how much you disappoint her, after all the money herself and your dad put in your scholarship, how you should study more. You never really was good at school cause you never liked that. You parents expect you to become a lawyer but you don’t give a shit about that job or the laws. Your passion was somewhere else. You love music, drawing, painting. You are more of an artist person than the big brain kid. If you keep going to school it’s only because you know art doesn't pay enough. 

That Night, one of your friends wanted to go out to celebrate her birthday and you agreed to be there for at least some hours, cause you needed to go back home to study harder before the next exam. It’s in this crowded bar you met Thanos. He was there, on stage, performing, rapping, having the time of his life. You were at the Bar, waiting for your order and the one your friend did when you had eye contact. The lyrics of his song felt like he was talking about you. Your cheeks became hot from embarrassment. When the drinks were ready, you took it and go back at your place, giving a last look to the rapper.

You don’t remember much of that evening. Your friend invited you but she also invited other people you didn’t know and you never was good to interact with strangers, so you stayed quiet most of the time until the barmaid came to your table with a shot and a little note. You looked at her confused.

«-I’m sorry, I didn’t order this, you said. -It’s from Thanos, she reply with a smile before leaving.»

The little group looked at your, surprised.

«-You know Thanos ? -No ! Who’s this guy ? -The hot guy who was on stage most of the night ?! What’s the note about ?»

Your friend took the note, red it and smile at you.

«-Girl, believe me, take that shot and go see him. -What ? Are you insane ?! I’m not taking something a stranger offered me, what if he put drugs in it ? »

You take back the note and read it. It was an invitation to come see him in his V.I.P room. You rolled your eyes, take the shot in your hand before leading your way to this famous Thanos room. You quickly saw him sat at a table with pretty girl and some dude, playing cards. Without any hesitation you put the shot on the table and look at him, not giving a damn shit about all the other around who looked at you.

«-Hear me out Mister infinity stones, that was nice of you for the shot, but i’m not the type of girl you can buy with that. Especially since I don’t know what you could have put in it.»

A smile appear on his lips before he made a move with his hand to invite everyone to leave the table. When you was alone, he got more comfortable in his chair.

«-I just saw a Beautifull flower in the crowd and wanted to know more about you. I didn’t expect you to react like this, but It’s way more entertaining than the usual.-The usual ? You do this often ? Find a cute girl, invite her over with a drink. -Not often and not in this exact way.»

I got up and get closer to me.

«-Now you’re here I can do a proper introduction.

He slowly took my hand and kiss the top of it

«-Hi Seniorita, i’m thanos, nice to meet you.»

Back to the Present

When you arrived outside, or something who looked outside, the doors behind you closed and in the other part of the room, you noticed a weird, giant, doll and two guards. The voice of a lady started to explain the first game you gonna play ; Red light, Green Light. At least, this first game sound easy, making you smile, but it quickly fade away when a guy screams and find his way out of the crowd of player, saying the doll gonna kill us if she cought us moving during the red light moments. Many of them didn’t took him seriously, but even if it’s sounded crazy as fuck, you started to shake. Maybe the fact you didn’t took any sort of drugs since a long moment didn’t help, but it wasn’t just that.

The game started and the man in front of the other gave us direction. You gave a look at thanos who was with a pretty girl. You growl from annoyance. This guy didn’t lose his time. 

One lost but he found ten other ones.

So far the game goes well until the pretty girl close to your ex start to scream and moving. She seemed to want to chase away something. When she stop moving by herself, a fireshot was eard, making me froze for real. Three seconds later a lot of people start running in panic as the guy in front of you screamed to not moving or panic. It was more easy to say than do. You whole body asking you to run away, but at the same time you was to horrified by the corps who felt close to you, it wasn’t possible at all. When everyone who tried to ran away was on the flood, the game continued. You moved and froze at the red light, hiding Yourself behind taller people as suggested. You turned your head to see if thanos was still alive and it was sort of a relief when you noticed he was. You also noticed he pushed people on the ground. This guy was definitely fucked up. 

Luckily, you made your way to the end, safe. You sat on the floor, tired cause of the anxiety this deadly game caused you and that’s at this moment you eared his voice.

«-Y/N ?! Flower is that you ? Are you for real ?! »

Thanos quickly sat in front of you, smiling at you.

«-Get Lost Thanos. -Yeah, i’m happy to see you too, beautiful.»

You didn’t answered. What could you say ? To many things actually, but absolutely nothing at the same time.

«-Oh come One, are you still ignoring me ? -Did you not eared me ? Get.Lost.Motherfucker.»

You was still mad a him and sad and all the hormones was high in your body. The situation didn’t help. You felt you was about tu cry and got up to go somewhere else but Thanos stopped you by gripping gently your wrist.

«-Wait, Y/N. Please, let me explain myself … -I don’t need any explanation. I saw You. You Cheated on me. There’s nothing more to explain.»

You didn’t faced him. If you will, you will cry and you don’t want him to see you like this.

You was saved by the voices of the women who told everyone to return in the main Room. You took back your wrist and quickly follow the others to go back in the room with all the beds. It was definitely too much emotion for this first day and you started to regret your decision.

[briefpiratebear]

for me keeping myself high meant in the moment meant more then any amount of sympathy or disrespect anybody could do to me. i didnt want that who would i failed like i fail at everything this time i didnt know many things i thought i did like a mental disorder i could not keep my thoughts and my brain right i was mentally incapable although i could work and i did always did yet with anxiety and no meds i couldnt be normal i lost it again i dont take anxiety meds im a buddha but since my brake down it hurt me physically like i did my entire years growing up this time i only lose it momentarily i need to find some other distractions then this shit feeling im doing alot better like i always thought i would on adderall lol it is a very very sad story of how someone dehuminized and deliberatly terrrorize over drugs they needed to be taking there entire life not only that but so much not knowing there own children labling me as autistic way earlier on before her degrees because of my alcholism changed the way of my thinking seperated us she never new me untill she had to know me thats how sad our relationship has been for along time not now for awhile all in all its dehuminizing her mother does it alot worse all in all its nothing good to lie that is why truth wins everytime i stand on truth and manners i have to we all do anyway i never had a problem i figured my shit out but who was there helping me i dont take for granted but i have to learn to enjoy the ride better myself and family together many people do not know how to communicate like i do not even my mom i see perspectives people dont think about i can wrap my head around alot but damn that shit broke me i spent all my money on shit to feel good i was sad a pig i turned into another animal alcholic ran myself to the ground getting phcho episode i dont even reminber my ex i must have drank popped pills the whole time untill well early november i got hospitalized and i wasnt well untill around chrismas time i was on heavy drugs because physically i would shake people think its ever since the meningitis the spinal tap fucked me up but i dont i think its a anxiety thing cause from nerv damage longer i go on the more it subsided it was bad all in all the monopaly went well another life lesson i would never take those away from anybody idc who you are whether you grew up in catholic schools or the slums you deserve to be heard other people need to hear it...

[megwritesriddles]

Sweetest Nectar ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Being at Hogwarts at university-level had it's perks, such as unsupervised days in the greenhouse with Neville. Reader finds herself in an unfortunate position thanks to a flower in the greenhouse and Neville has to figure out how to help while being a gentleman and preserving their friendship.

Tags: Sex pollen, Mildly dubious consent, Fingering, P in V, Unprotected sex, Begging, Friends to lovers, Minor yearning, HogwartsUniversity!AU, Post-war/Eighth year, Virgin!Neville (he just is, I don't make the rules), Too much backstory, Sentient Hogwarts, Silly fluffy ending.

Word count: 11.1k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Can you see why I've been gone so long??? This had zero business being 11k words but I'm a chronic overexplainer so here we are!! Skip the first 9 paragraphs if you don't care about any worldbuilding. Continuing my 'Neville gets muscular as he gets older' agenda as per. The last line is so dumb... Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

P.S. this is technically day 23 of my kinktober but it's january so lets not talk about that

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Hogwarts worked in mysterious ways, with its own indecipherable motives. This much had always been true but was especially recognised lately. Once rebuild efforts had concluded after the war, Professor McGonagall, like every headmaster before her, bar Severus Snape, had sent out invitations to recent graduates to join the Higher Education program, a two-year program that would prepare its students to become a professor in any chosen field, subject to meeting entry requirements of the course. Demand for this program was higher than it ever had been, so many recent Hogwarts graduates felt like they had missed so much time at Hogwarts, that they were willing to come back on the program just to make up for lost time. At first, McGonnagal thought of shutting the whole thing down or at least raising entry requirements for joiners; there wasn’t exactly enough room in the designated Higher Education quarters for all the applicants. And though the regular student population had dwindled significantly over the course of the war (best not thought about too hard), it seemed wrong to try and room adults with 15-year-olds just to fit everyone in. The night before she intended to send out the letters of amendment to the required marks, McGonagall felt bizarrely compelled to go on a stroll around the castle, feeling drawn down a route she didn't often find herself going. There, she found a brand new door, behind which were brand new living quarters, just big enough for all the applicants. Although she should have been relieved, McGonagall was initially rather frustrated by this. Why now did the blasted old castle decide it could build, when nearly all summer long volunteers had been slaving away to restore the castle? The windows glittered as if to wink at her, she decided that the daft old thing must have liked the attention. McGonagall found herself relieved, she too felt that the recent graduates were not ready for the career world quite yet, having had not only their final year of study lost to the war, but the years before that tarnished by looming threats and incompetent bumblers. Also, there was an urgent need for qualified teachers of magic, so the more the merrier, even if most of them would only use it as a springboard into something else. 

You had always been a shoo-in either way, although you never got to sit your NEWTs, the honourary grades you were given were stellar, supported by fantastic results in your OWLs and overall fantastic conduct in class. The blemishes on your record from the Carrow's note-taking were wiped, leaving your record squeaky clean. You received your acceptance letter and list of supplies and felt like you were eleven again. Everyone was required to specialise in a subject, and while you'd had a couple in which you had adequate grades which you might have chosen, you went for Herbology in the end, as it was something you loved.  In all honesty, you liked Professor Sprout the best and were eager to train under her. 

As soon as you received your letter, you wrote to Neville. There was no doubt in your mind that he would be studying under Professor Sprout alongside you, despite not even knowing if he had applied to the program initially. He quickly confirmed this suspicion when he wrote back to you, saying he had a sneaky feeling about you as well. The two of you had become fast friends in the sixth year, both being in Advanced Herbology. You'd known each other a little here and there before that, but in this class, your friendship truly formed. The class was very small, as the interest in Advanced Herbology was low, most careers only required a decent grade in standard Herbology, so even those with interest had to prioritise other things for the sake of their future, such as Potions or Charms. There were only the two of you and a pair of Slytherin girls who, despite seeming genuinely very passionate about the subject, refused to converse with the two of you and whispered amongst themselves all the time. This was fine with both of you, as you had each other, taking time to study together, walking to and from class, and working efficiently during any pair work. The two of you had been ripped apart during the war, you had to steer clear of Hogwarts for your safety, and Neville, being intensely monitored by the Carrows at the time, refused to write to you and risk revealing your location to them, so you had been out of contact for quite a while. You wrote to him again on his birthday and had been corresponding a little since, but things felt slightly stunted. You hadn't seen each other in so long and Neville was never the best when it came to socialising. 

Arriving at Hogwarts once again had been intensely bittersweet. So many good and bad memories to try and process all at once, it felt overwhelming. You'd had to step outside during the sorting but found yourself far from alone out there. So many people were broken. You apprehensively made your way over to Hermione and said hello. She pulled you into a tight hug, as you hadn't seen her for a long time either. You listened as she explained about Harry and Ron, that they didn't want to go into teaching, and though she'd explained over and over that most people that do the program don't end up teaching, they'd still refused to come. Trying to make the most of it, she tells you it'll be nice to spend time with other friends for once and you nod along. She is somehow specialising in three subjects, she'd wanted to do more of course, but it hadn't been allowed. Trust Hermione to work herself to the bone happily. You'd made it to your room later that night, a private room with an en-suite, which felt awfully fancy for Hogwarts, and settled in. Being back was an odd feeling, you could see the cracks in the stone everywhere you looked, there was pain everywhere, yet so much good to try and find.

To your complete relief, when you started your first day in the Greenhouses, things fell back into place with Neville instantly. At first, you'd greeted him with a hug, which had been awkward as he hadn't been expecting it, but very pleasant once he figured out what was going on. Soon after this though, as Professor Sprout set you her first task (to prepare some plants for her third years), things were back to as they were, perfect. You worked together well, talking and laughing easily, and though occasionally the chat went sour and the mood fell, this was happening with everyone lately, a byproduct of the war, there was so little to talk about that wasn't tarnished that it was a wonder the two of you were able to laugh as much as you were. Neither of the two girls from advanced Herbology were there, and although this initially saddened you both, you conceded that there could be many reasons for it. There weren’t many Slytherin returners, there never had been, but after the war especially, the turnout was pathetic. Most Slytherins avoided their peers after the war for fear of ostracism, which was fair as people had some pretty bad opinions on them but sad because there were several Slytherins who hadn’t been on the wrong side of history who were still facing hostility. 

The course was a lot of independent study of assigned texts and essay-writing, but all day on a Tuesday and half a day on a Thursday, the two of you were in the smaller greenhouse behind the ones for teaching, working on various projects, which also sometimes required your attention out of teaching hours. This greenhouse was set aside initially for research purposes at Sprout’s predecessor's request, but now was being used to train those in the higher education program. Despite this greenhouse being smaller than the two nearer the grounds, it was still fairly large and complex. Upon entering, you came into a little cloakroom, where you would have to don your aprons and gloves before entering, with a sink in the corner for washing up when leaving and entering. The next room was the main growing area, growing various plants that weren’t dangerous but were still perhaps best kept out of the reach of the younger students. There was a long wooden workbench in the middle of the room for potting and taking notes and whatever else you might need to do. Off of the opposite end of this room, there were three doors, one that led to a small room which was always kept humid and at tropical temperatures, one which was always kept cool and dry and one lockable room in which more dangerous plants were kept, such as venomous tentacula or fanged geraniums, only to be accessed with Professor Sprout supervising. 

Professor Sprout would only tutor the two of you on Thursday, so with the exception of the first few weeks, the two of you were entirely alone from 9 am to 4 pm on a Tuesday. Although it sounded a little salacious when you told friends, the truth was that most Tuesdays you were both too busy for anything to happen. Not that anything would of course, but certain assumptions were made when people heard you were alone together for hours with what they assumed was an easy subject. Mostly your days were full of tending to the plants, having to frequently refer to your notes for how each should be cared for (how much water? what temperature should the water be? do they require singing to?), observing any plants that were the subjects of your essays and preparing plants so they would be safe for lessons with younger year groups. 

It’s a Tuesday like any other. Neville is carefully planting some seeds across the workbench from where you’re delicately pruning a particularly active flitterbloom bush, setting the clippings aside to send to the potions department later. One of Neville’s research subjects is observing what methods of growth acceleration work the best and cause the least damage to the plants they’re applied to. He has been planting, growing and replanting dittany over and over for weeks now, but was still gathering more data as he came across more and more methods to test, and each had to be tested several times over to rule out external factors. 

Your research was on the merits and drawbacks of pruning, and which plants took best and worst to the practice. Pruning was useful as it allowed more ingredients to be obtained from individual plants for potioneering purposes, but generally was thought to be harmful to the overall health of the plant. You were attempting to write a definitive list of which of the 25 most common plants used in potions could be pruned and which couldn’t, which to your surprise had hardly been researched before as the belief of its harmfulness had permeated the field since 1870 and most Herbologists had steered clear of it since. Your research seemed to be proving it wasn’t nearly as harmful as thought.

The two of you chat idly as Neville uses a pipette to apply various growth potions to the soil of his newly planted seeds and you carefully measure the regrowth of a stem of the flitterbloom bush that you pruned a few weeks ago, struggling as the stem swayed about. 

“I can’t believe Hermione talked Ron and Harry into actually joining the course next term,” Neville hums, extracting exactly 5 millilitres of potion from a bottle with his pipette. You scoff. 

“For real this time? They keep saying that yet nothing ever comes of it,” you shake your head, scribbling down your measurement on the parchment beside you.

“Yes, really, two new rooms have appeared in the boys' dorms with their names on them, if Hogwarts knows, it must really be happening,” his tongue sticks out slightly between his teeth as he concentrates on dropping the liquid right in the middle of the little pot. Not wanting to throw his research, you wait until he’s done to reply.

“Perhaps Harry and Ron don’t even know it themselves,” you joke, making Neville chuckle. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the castle decided it for them,” he carefully pushes the cork back into the top of the potion bottle. “The castle is quite odd lately, perhaps it has whatever its equivalent of brain damage is from the war, it’s acting much more blatantly,”

“How so?” you tilt your head in his direction, soothing your finger over the agitated stem that you just had to hold taut for measuring. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard all the stories of people getting stuck in rooms with the people they like, doors literally disappearing until they confess or otherwise!”  Neville laughs, carefully moving his pots back to their designated spot on the windowsill. With his back turned, you can’t help but glance at the door despite yourself, wondering if it’s still there. It is. You quickly avert your eyes from the door as he turns back toward you. “It’s why there’s suddenly all these couples popping up, sure the castle has always been a little cheeky, but never so obvious before, it all started with the higher education wing appearing overnight and it’s seemingly been madness since,” he shakes his head, picking up another batch of pots containing little sprouts at various heights that he has to measure. 

“It’s sweet how many people have liked each other and not even known… has it always been people who like each other stuck together?” you ask, stroking your quill, feeling the soft tufts beneath your fingers. 

“As far as I’ve heard, each time it’s happened it’s ended well,” Neville shrugs, rifling through his bag for his measuring tape. You glance at the door again, seeing it still there. Unrequited, you figure, that door will stay right where it is. 

“I wonder where the brain of the castle is if it even has such a thing… it is sentient in some ways, so there must be an equivalent right?” you ponder as he loudly removes his books from his bag and thuds them onto the workbench. 

“The room of requirement? For some reason that comes to mind… a fire in your brain can’t be good,” he chuckles, his voice slightly strained as he peers under the table for the offending measuring tape.

“You can borrow mine,” you suggest softly as he comes up with nothing. 

“No it’s fine, you need it,” he waves his hand dismissively, standing up from his stool. “I’ll fetch mine from my room, I’m fairly certain I know exactly where it is on my desk, can’t believe I forgot it again,” he grumbles the last part to himself. “Be back in 15, watch my plants,” he smiles, although you can tell from his sheepish look that he’s embarrassed to have forgotten something yet again. Luckily, you could head back to fetch things at any time at your level, no longer having to ask to go to the toilet or anything like that. There was no one here to ask. You smile back, watching as he enters the cloakroom. A few moments later, you see his heavily blurred figure heading up the hill through the heavily rippled glass of the greenhouse windows. In the newfound quiet, you return to your work, hearing only the spray of simulated rain in the tropical growing room. 

Finally finished with the flitterbloom, you stand to retrieve your next plant, a valerian bush, for pruning. As you move to stand and step forward, you feel an odd pressure at your ankle. Stepping forward anyway, you realise too late that your foot is hooked on a support between the legs of your stool, sending both you and the stool off balance and toppling over toward the room-length counter that holds all the various plants. Reflexively, your body twists and your arms come up to shield your head as you thud loudly into the solid wood surface, causing a choir of wobbling pots, luckily with no ensuing crash of broken terracotta, you had to count your blessings somewhere. A dull pain throbs through your body, starting from the side that crashed against the counter. Thud! A yelp rips from you as the stool, still twined with your leg, falls onto your thigh. Luckily, it is only light and will leave a small bruise at most, your side colliding with the counter on the other hand…. You shut your eyes tight, feeling utterly embarrassed about what just happened despite being alone. You weren’t normally this clumsy and you were sure you looked a mess, an undignified heap on the floor, too shocked to stand up or even open your eyes yet. In the permeating silence, you sit on the cold stone floor and try not to cry, from the shock more than the pain. 

A violent sneeze overtakes your body, the action of it hurting your side. You sniff and cough, dust seemingly surrounding you. You must have jostled some old dusty plants that hadn’t been touched in a while when you collided with the surface. Surrendering to the coughs and sniffs that wracked through your pained body, you wait it out until the dust subsides, grabbing your bruised side as you double over with violent sneezes and sputters. Finally, a deep breath of clean air, you sag against the counter and try to gather yourself now you can breathe properly once more.

“It was exactly where I thought it was…” The door from the cloakroom creaks open in the silence as Neville enters, clutching his measuring tape. “I can be so scatterbrained,” he huffs, his eyes sweeping the room at the height he expects you to be. In embarrassment your eyes squeeze tighter, not wanting him to see the mess you’d gotten yourself into. Upon not seeing you, he glances around for any evidence you might be in one of the back rooms, though not thinking of a reason you would be. 

“Down here,” you squeak, your voice hoarse from coughing. The words itch your throat and you splutter slightly once more as he rounds the workbench and spots you on the ground. You give a sheepish smile, finally having opened your eyes. It’s painfully obvious from your stool-adorned leg what happened, you just hope he doesn’t think any less of you. He shouldn’t, he has a reputation for being clumsy himself, but you can’t help but worry. “I fell,” you rasp pathetically. 

“Are you alright?” he surges toward you and kneels, immediately examining your head for any bumps, rubbing over your scalp gently. The action makes your cheeks heat up, but you try to ignore it. 

“I’m okay, I landed on my side,” you reply as he carefully removes the stool from around your leg and stands it back up beside the workbench. His arms wrap around you and he carefully lifts you to stand, you yelp as the movement stretches your side and he shushes you gently. 

“It’s alright, there we go… just��,” he holds you steady until you’re stable on your feet. When he lets go of you, it feels oddly painful deep in your stomach, but you brush that off. 

“Thank you,” you whisper shyly. 

“Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?” he asks, bringing his hand up to feel your skull once more, worrying over whether you might have been badly injured. You lean slightly into his hand without meaning to.

“No I promise, it was just my side and my thigh,” you insist, inwardly wishing he’d brush his hand against those spots to check them. For a moment his hand moves like he might, but he stops himself. 

“If you’re sure,” he inspects you once more, hovering behind you as you sit back down on the stool, trying to brush past this whole incident. “Can I grab your plant for you?” he offers. “Which were you going for?” you want to complain, but his eyes are wide and earnest and you know he wants to help.

“The valerian… and could you pop the flitterbloom back for me?” you request, hesitantly testing the tender skin where the stool collided with your thigh, wincing at the throb of pain that followed your touch. Neville dutifully returns the flitterbloom to the counter, then places the valerian bush before you. Behind you, you hear him gently pushing some of the pots that had moved when you smashed into the counter back into place. You flush and keep your head down, pretending to inspect the valerian bush but not being able to focus. Your brain feels a little fogged up, you assume from the shock of the fall. Not wanting to alarm Neville in any way, you grab your tape measure and pretend to measure the leaf regrowth. He quietly moves around the workbench, bringing his pots over to your side of the bench and sitting down beside you to resume his work, his brows furrowed in concern for you. “Really, I’m okay,” you chuckle, but the weakness of your voice does little to reassure him.

“It’s better if I sit here, just in case something happens,” he says, more firmly than he usually says anything. That side of him was new since the war, this ability to stick up for himself in smaller situations. He’d always known how to stick up for the greater good, but little things like this, he would allow himself to be walked all over, too scared of losing a friend. Now that he has more confidence, he’s not so afraid to dispute his nearest and dearest, knowing you’re unlikely to end your friendship with him over this. And if you did, it would be weird and not his fault anyway. The tone of voice is also on the newer side and it stirs something in your belly.

You sit side by side working on your respective projects. Well, Neville is working, you’re more just going through the motions while your mind hovers elsewhere, not allowing you to focus on what you’re meant to be doing. Maybe you were concussed… but you hadn’t hit your head during the fall, so what was wrong? You take a few deep breaths, trying to slow your heart which still seems to be beating slightly fast. Slowly but surely, your body starts to feel a little warm. You glance to make sure the door to the tropical room hasn't opened as your cardigan starts to feel a little stuffy. No matter where you look in the room, you can’t find any source of excess heat. A puff of breath breaches your lips, you’re growing uncomfortable now, the heat only seems to rise and rise. With great unnecessary difficulty, you wrestle yourself free of your cardigan, throwing the wretched thing on the ground beside you with a grunt. Neville gives you a confused look, but not yet seeing anything obviously wrong with you, returns to his measurements. There is relief from the warmth that was engulfing you, but only for ten minutes at most, as soon you are sweltering once more. An awful voice at the back of your head tries to convince you to throw off all of your clothes, but you keep it together, merely squirming in your seat, rubbing your thighs together to try and quell the growing ache in your belly that your mind isn’t quite registering yet. In a last-ditch effort, you sip some water from your lukewarm water bottle, the relief it provides is even shorter than before. Your head whips around now, searching fruitlessly once more for the source of this despicable heat, but finds nothing. Neville is unfazed beside you, still wearing his sweater and looking perfectly comfortable. The only thing you can think of is that Neville must be radiating the heat, as nothing else could explain your sudden discomfort. You reach your hand out toward him, trying to gauge if it gets warmer the closer it gets to his side. This finally catches his attention and when he looks up, he’s met with your flushed clammy face and dilated pupils.

“Whoa! Is everything alright?” he sputtered, leaning back slightly as if worried you’re contagious. This upsets you and you let out an unseemly whine.

“I’m hot,” you huff, pushing your hair back from your face to get more cool air on your skin. “Really hot,” Neville’s eyes brush over you for a moment as he considers just how hot you are, before promptly snapping himself out of it.

“You do look a little… feverish,” he agrees, reaching out and touching the back of his hand to your forehead. You lean forward into the touch, moaning softly. Your skin is burning and slightly tacky with sweat, which makes Neville frown deeply. How could you have suddenly developed such a terrible fever? He pulls his hand back, but you immediately whine and claw at his arm to pull his hand back. Too baffled to protest, he lets you pull his hand to your cheek and watches you lean against it happily. He gently runs his thumb over your cheekbone before catching himself. “Are you alright?” he enquires once more, keeping his voice soothing.

“Don’t stop touching me,” you pout, looking up at him through your lashes with a look that is wholly inappropriate for an academic premises. He swallows.

“Wha-what?” he stammers, watching as you nuzzle against his hand.

“It helps the heat… don’t stop,” you whimper, reaching out to try and pull him closer by his sweater, but not being strong or focused enough to do it. This failure pulls another whine from you. Neville’s mind reels completely and he has to look away from you to compose himself, though he keeps your cheek cradled in his palm. What was going on with you? Were you ill? His eyes find the spot where he’d found you on the floor just earlier in his attempts to avoid the sultry unexplainable look you were giving him. “I need you to touch me,” you mewl, making him shiver.

“I’m not sure that’s–” he cuts himself off when his eyes land on the plant on the counter above where you fell. Lamprocapnos libidinosus, also known as the dripping heart, a magical relative of the bleeding heart flower in the muggle world. A common ingredient in lust potions and aphrodisiacs, highly dangerous in the wrong hands due to the potent amorous effects of its spores. Neville vaguely remembers Professor Sprout's warnings that one of the PhD students was being allowed to grow it for research and to steer completely clear of it. A warning he’s sure you would have headed if you hadn’t been tumbling toward it. Even from afar, he notices a couple of burst spore pods. “Oh no…” he mumbles to himself, dropping his hand from your cheek. You immediately protest but he stops you short. “When you fell… you didn’t happen to breathe in any dust, did you?” his voice shakes slightly, this cannot be happening to you. He always thought they shouldn’t have the plant growing in this greenhouse, even if only experienced herbologists were allowed in. Accidents happened as he knew all too well, and now his vague fears had become a biting reality.

“Yeah, why?” your voice is soft and sweet as you paw at him, trying to get him to hug you, or presumably something more. Neville flushes brightly and shoots upright, making a mad dash for his textbooks, still on the workbench from when he’d been searching through his bag. You wail at his absence, feeling the heat that had reduced to a low simmer return to a full boil. “Please…” you sob at him, not even knowing why you want what you want. “Just hold me, comfort me,” The look in your eye has him breaking, and if he remembers what little he’s read about the plant, you must be rather uncomfortable right now. He returns to your side and allows you to cling to his arm, bumping your head into his shoulder like a loving cat, while he frantically searches for the information he needs to help you. After several panicked flick-throughs, he locates the page.

Lamprocapnos libidinosus; also known as the Dripping Heart or the Flower of Lust.

At the top of the page is information entirely useless to this cause, the best season to plant, how much light is needed, etcetera, but finally Neville finds what he’s looking for under the ‘uses’ section. It’s tough to focus on reading when you’re practically trying to get under his sweater with him, pushing the knit material slightly up his side, your fingertips brushing his abdomen and making him jolt. He pushes your hand away but pulls you into a hug to silence your outcries, which you’re more than happy to sink into. He’s hugged you plenty of times so he pretends this is perfectly normal as he wills his brain to digest what's in front of him on the page. It’s hard to keep this pretending up as he can hear you sniffing him and moaning deeply at the smell of his shower gel, mixed with just a hint of sweat, which in this state only fuels your arousal, acting as a pheromone, worsening your need.

He skims the section frantically. Inhalation of the spores will lead to overwhelming feelings of lust even in small doses, however, the dose may affect who this lust is directed toward. Smaller doses will only worsen lust toward people already lusted after by the infected person, while larger doses will cause these feelings of lust to latch onto whoever is around, no matter prior relationships. The infected person will pursue their object of affection at any cost, they will be unable to focus on anything but the lust that has overtaken them. These feelings of lust, if left untreated, can cause extreme discomfort in the infected person, high fevers, intense symptoms of arousal (such as fluid secretions), shivers, brain fog and other symptoms varying by person and dose. The only way to cure the infected person of these symptoms and return them to full faculties is to have them reach climax.

It seems that you have chosen him as the object of your affections. Neville looks down at you as you hug him tight, continuously trying to slip your hand beneath his jumper. Out of selfish curiosity, he heads for the plant to try and determine how large of a dose you got and whether you may have already experienced feelings of lust toward him before the effects of the plant. When he moves away, you practically sob.

“Please don’t!” you wail, diving for him and into his arms once more. For now, you seemed to be mostly content just being held in his arms, and it’s clear you find it painful when separated from him for even a moment, so Neville has to relent. He delicately lifts you, and although having you wrap your legs around his hips hadn’t been a part of his plan, he supposes it does help keep you steady. He blushes brightly as he walks over to inspect the flower. He’s never held anyone like this, so intimately. Your skirt rides up where your legs wrap around him and he has to tear his eyes away before his thoughts become too inappropriate. You like the sight as much as he does. “You’re so strong,” you purr in his ear, your voice much lower than normal. He shivers and you feel it, the knowledge you’re having some effect on him overtakes your lust-addled brain. 

“Th-thank you, I’ve been exercising a lot since the war,” he mumbles, counting all the burst pods on the plant. He counts five, but he’s not sure if that’s considered a large dose or not. Probably, but the pods do look rather small.

“Mmm, it’s so hot…” you purr, trying to wriggle against him. Neville’s face turns red and he practically drops you, but holds you steady so you don’t fall once more once your feet touch the ground.

“Don’t say stuff like that!” he yelps.

“It’s true,” you pout. “I need you,” you try to hop up into his arms again but he holds you firmly on the ground, practically shaking. Really, this should’ve been a dream come true for him, he’d had feelings for you practically since the day the two of you met, but he felt disgusted with himself for every wave of excitement that passed over him. You were burning up, your cheeks brightly flushed, a deep ache at the pit of your belly and an ever-growing wetness in your underwear. All you could think about was how it might feel to have Neville soothing the fire inside you with deep strong thrusts, you moan aloud, if you focus enough you can almost feel it. “I bet you’re big, I bet you’d fill me up so well,” you murmur, looking up at him seductively.

“I- Merlin…” Now Neville feels overheated, he tries to push you away a little but you aren’t letting him. The image of filling you up won’t leave his head no matter how much he commands it to. It doesn’t help that you’re now trying your best to reach his jaw to kiss it. 

“Please…” you beg once more. “I need it so badly…” his resistance crumbles for a moment and his hands drop from your sides, allowing you to rush forward and attach your lips to his jaw. His eyes slip shut and he whimpers as you hold him close and lavish his neck and jaw with attention. His arms wrap around you, hands gently skimming your back as you continue to pepper him with kisses. “Please,” you whisper against his skin, your hand dropping to the buckle of his belt. The feeling of you tugging at his belt makes his eyes shoot open. He realises in a sudden flood of shame what he’s allowed you to do. You’ll hate him for this once you’re back to normal. He grabs your shoulders harshly and pushes you away. You squeak as he sits you on one of the stools, your eyes filling with tears at the rejection. You’d been so close to what you needed, and now with this newfound distance from him, you were in pain once more, a horrible throb in your stomach. 

“Listen to me,” he breathes shakily. “We can’t do this, you’ll regret it as soon as it’s over,”

“No, I–”

“You’re not in your right mind, you don’t know what you actually want,” he asserts again, reminding himself more than anything. He takes a deep breath and thinks. The only way to cure you according to the textbook was for you to reach climax. In colloquial stories about the plant, he’d always heard that orgasm would have to be reached with the help of another person, but the book didn’t stipulate this, maybe this was the answer. You could do it alone. His cheeks were flushed bright red as he opened his mouth once more. “What you need to do is… er… I’m going to take you into the cloakroom, alright?” he swallows, cautiously pulling you up from the stool onto your feet. You would need to sit somewhere to do this presumably and sitting on the stool or the workbench in here could lead to falling and disaster all over again. The best place he could think of was the bench in the cloakroom where people could sit to remove their shoes. You would have the wall to lean against and wouldn’t be sitting on the cold stone floor. Beneath you, he lays out a towel and then helps you to sit down on top of it. The towel was intended to make you more comfortable, but he considers with a blush that it might be necessary for other reasons also. He clears his throat. “Now, you have to… er… get yourself… uhm…” he can’t seem to make himself say the words. With a soft tug at his sleeve, you pull him to kneel between your legs, your faces nearly level given how much height he has on you. 

Before he can stop you, you kiss him. His brain stops functioning for a moment, all he can do is wrap his arms around you and kiss back, so intoxicated by the way your lips move against his. He didn’t have much experience with kissing, but there was no doubt this was the best kiss of his life. You moan against his mouth and it sets all his nerve-endings alight, making him push even closer to you in desperation. For you, the kiss is a sweet relief, cool water washing over your overheated body, but even so, you need more. There’s an incessant throbbing between your legs, a horrible feeling of emptiness that you know only Neville could fill. Trying to urge him on, you brush your tongue against his lips, hoping for entry. You’re allowed in for one tantalising moment before he pulls away with a start when your tongues graze against each other. The whine that rips from your throat is downright pathetic, but you don’t have the faculties to care at that moment. You look at him through your lashes, watching as he fights to regain his composure, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Never in his life has he felt as weak as in this moment, rendered so malleable by his desire for you. The two of you are friends. How will you react when you come back to normal and discover he let you kiss him in this state? That he’s allowed his selfishness to get in the way of what’s right? He jumps to his feet, ignoring your cries and protests as much as it pains him to do so.

“Look, the textbook says that the only way to cure you of this is… a uh… a climax,” he blushes and chokes on the words slightly. “I’m going to keep watch outside that nobody comes in, all you have to do is… you know…”

“Get myself off?” you supply in a sultry voice. 

“Yes, exactly,” he clears his throat, turning to leave you alone.

“Nev, please… I need your help… I don’t want to do it alone,” you plead, your voice soft and needy.  

“No, you can do it alo– oh… wow,” he exhales heavily as his eyes reach you once more. In an effort to persuade him, you’d pulled up the hem of your skirt and spread your legs, revealing your thighs and your soaked panties to him. The cold air makes you shiver but doesn’t actually cool you down in the slightest. It takes a great deal of strength to keep Neville from lunging himself at you. You look positively delicious, the wetness of your panties allowing him an outline of your most intimate areas, the skin of your thighs soft and plump and enticing. If he was even a slightly feebler man, he’d already be on his knees, devouring you through the thin, damp fabric. Just imagining how you might taste has him weak in the knees. “Oh Merlin…” he breathes, feeling his erection, which has been slightly present for the last half-hour or so, straining painfully against the zip of his jeans. The needy seductive look on your face almost breaks him, he takes a step toward you, causing you to light up, before he stops himself and just stares. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, unable to help himself. He watches you squirm in response. 

“Please, I need you,” you beg, unbuttoning your shirt as he observes. The garment falls to the ground, leaving you in your plain bra. Neville doesn’t seem to mind how simple the garment is in the slightest, his breath hitching as you reveal yourself.

“I really shouldn’t” he tries again, but he cannot rip his eyes from your body.

“I can’t do it alone, I feel so empty,” you whimper, spreading your legs further. “Please, fill me, I need your cock,” Neville nearly faints at those words, at the pleading way you say them, at how desired you’re making him feel. His legs carry him forward before his brain can catch up and he sits beside you on the bench. His brain finally does catch up just in time to stop you from sitting in his lap.

“Maybe I can help a little, but we can’t… I can’t uh… I can’t ‘fill’ you,” he gives in, despite knowing he probably shouldn’t. He had heard many times that another person was needed to reverse the effects of the Dripping Heart, so it was likely he did have to help, given the fact you hardly seemed satisfied with the idea of getting off alone. He could still be as much of a gentleman about it as possible. He knew the both of you had limited sexual experience, he himself was a virgin and though he wasn’t sure about you, he would guess you were in the same boat or had only had one partner before. With both of you having so little experience, he didn’t want to go all the way, as for you it would likely be regrettable. You plead with him softly, trying to climb into his lap still, despite his strong arms holding you at bay. Each plea weakens his resolve and he knows you know it because you’re babbling now.

“Please, please Nev, I need you inside me, to fuck me, I’ve never needed anything so badly, please, I know you want me too,” he deserved a medal for being able to resist you for this long, most other boys would have given in the second the girl of their dreams said something even remotely flirty, but he was somehow just barely resisting your pleas to have sex with him.

“Sit down,” he implores you, and you quickly obey, batting your lashes at him. “I’m going to help you, okay? But you need to stay still and just… take what I give you, don’t ask for more, okay?” These words seem to excite you, you squirm and nod, eagerly allowing him to spread your legs. His shaking hand rests on your bare thigh for a moment as he takes a few composing breaths. He couldn’t believe what he was about to do, it was something he had dreamed of incessantly, but now it felt like it could ruin his life if he wasn’t careful. You tug softly at his arm, trying to get his hand where you want it, bucking against the air.

“Please…” you sob, clenching around nothing as you look at his large hand against your thigh. He shushes you gently.

“I’m about to, just give me a second,” he stammers, trying to sort through his brain for any information he has on how to do this. He averts his eyes, figuring you wouldn’t have wanted him to see you so intimately, even if the damp fabric of your panties had already given him a pretty good look. Slowly, he places his hand on the apex of your thigh, shivering at the damp warmth he can feel radiating from your core. You mewl. Despite the pain in his neck from the position, he keeps his eyes locked on the wall behind you, pointedly ignoring how arousing the sounds you made were. Gathering his courage, he carefully slips the tips of his fingers past the fabric of your underwear and groans aloud at how wet you are. Your nectar gathers on his fingers and for a moment he just gently swipes them up and down to gather as much as possible, hearing your desperate moans as you lean your head on his shoulder. He never knew a woman could be this wet, and sure perhaps the flower was exacerbating it, but the thought still had him unendingly aroused. The angle wasn’t quite right, so he removed his hand, whining in unison with you at the separation. Your essence dripping down his fingers was like a siren song, trying to lure him to lick his fingers clean and finally get a taste of you. How could he ever explain that to you later? To his infinite regret, he doesn’t bring them to his mouth, sliding his hand into your panties once more, now from the top. This angle works a lot better, your hips immediately buck as his fingers slide over your clit.

“There, please, right there,” you beg, and he’s glad for the advice. A little unsure but determined (no point backing out now, at least he might be able to cure you), he relocates the spot that makes you shiver and whine. Your reaction tells you exactly when he’s found the little bundle of nerves once more and he takes a deep breath, before gently beginning to circle his fingers around it. It’s something he remembers hearing in the common room, and it seems it was good advice as soon you’re panting in his ear like a dog in heat, mewling his name softly. He can’t believe the noises you’re making, the sinful way you’re saying his name, it’s like perfect torture, it takes a lot out of him not to look. “Yes, fuck… Nev…” you whine, feeling the syrupy pleasure coursing through your body. “Yes, yes! More!” 

“More?” he croaks, unsure what you mean by that. As a guess, he tries circling faster, and though you definitely seem to like it, your hips canting up into his touch, he can feel you shaking your head against his shoulder.

“Need you inside,” you cry, making his cock twitch in his jeans.

“We- we can’t do- that,” he stutters, although he’s never wanted to more in his life. He wholeheartedly agrees with your pained sob in response, but he knows it’s for the best. “How about… er… my fingers? Inside?” he gulps, flustered that he’s even in a situation where he can ask such a thing. 

“O-okay,” you whimper. Neville fumbles around for a moment, trying to figure out where to put his fingers. It would be much easier if he could see what he was doing, but he’s already decided he shouldn’t. The fact that he touched you will no doubt be mortifying enough once you’re back to normal. With a little guidance from you, he very slowly and cautiously presses two fingers into you, making you gasp in pleasure. You’re wet and warm and tight around his fingers and he practically drools imagining how you might feel around his cock, almost cumming on the spot just thinking about it. Merlin, he was such a pathetic virgin, maybe he should be taking the chance and losing his virginity now, but it just doesn’t feel right when he doesn’t know how you’ll feel about it afterwards. He presses his forehead to the cool wall to calm himself down and prevent him from looking at how you took his fingers in, withdrawing them just slightly and then pressing them back in. The sound that comes from you makes Neville’s heart skip, so lewd and sinful and full of ecstasy. He wants desperately to kiss you, but he knows he shouldn’t. 

At your renewed pleading, he starts up a steady pace, thrusting his fingers in and out the way he wished he could with his cock, feeling filthy for even thinking it. The wet sound that each thrust made, accompanied by your wanton moans makes him feel like he’s the one who has been infected by the flower, so crazed with desire. Could there have been some pollen on you that he inhaled when he helped you up? It didn’t seem impossible, but he was also a young man, they weren’t exactly notorious for being level-headed when it came to sex. You lean heavily against him, gasping against his shoulder at each press of his fingers, the coil in your belly twisting tighter than it ever had before. You mumble incoherent pleas and he simply shushes you, not trusting himself not to give in to you if you keep talking. 

“Thumb,” you breathe between vulgar moans and though it takes his sluggish brain a moment, he realises what you want. He presses his fingers deeper, fumbling a moment before his thumb grazes your sensitive bud, making you sob in pleasure. His large deft hand pleasures you like it was made for it, all you can think of is the bliss he’s giving you as he hits all the right spots over and over. Your hand flies up, nails digging into his arm as you realise you’re dangerously close to exploding, despite the bite of your nails, he doesn’t let up his pace, too addicted to the sound of your moans to slow down now. “Nev… I’m–” you cut yourself off with a shout, pleasure shooting through your body like you were struck by lighting. Your muscles tense and tremble, your eyes rolling back in your skull, walls contracting around his fingers hard. The pleasure goes through you in strong waves, drowning you in it, not allowing you respite from shivers and moans for even a second as it wracks through you. You’d never felt anything so intense and all-consuming before. Neville feels your essence gush onto his fingers and though he should be relieved it’s over, he finds himself disappointed that he has to stop doing this, hearing those bewitching sounds. Gently, he removes his hand from you and guides your skirt back down your thighs so he can finally look toward you again. His fingers are covered in your essence, creamy and mouth-watering, the only thing that’s able to stop him from having a taste is your hand still clinging to his arm. He waits for you to gather your breath, silently smug he was able to help, but also petrified of what happens next. 

“Are you alright?” he asks delicately, shifting his erection away from your back now that you might actually register it. You open your eyes and look up at him, which immediately makes him frown. Your pupils are still almost comically dilated, your cheeks still pink and clammy, and though it could just be from the aftermath of your orgasm, he immediately knows something is still wrong.

“I feel better… but not entirely,” you whisper and Neville bites his lip. Great. He stands to wash his hands in the sink, and during that brief period of absence, he watches you become consumed by the effects of the flower again, pleading for him to come back. He splashes water on his face and takes a deep breath. You had reached climax, he may not be an expert in female orgasms but he knew what he just saw and felt, so what was wrong? Was the plant in the greenhouse genetically modified in some way? Would he have to call Professor Sprout to ask for help? How exactly could he explain that he’d already given you an orgasm and it hadn’t worked? Looking back, he should have taken you to Madam Pomfrey the second he’d realised what had happened to you, but he thought you would have found it too embarrassing. Now things would be infinitely more embarrassing for the both of you if you sought out help. Lesson learned, just because he’d survived a war it didn’t mean he could deal with anything life threw at him alone. He feels you approaching from behind and turns around, allowing you to sink into his arms. “Stay with me,” you plead, holding him close.

“Okay,” he sighs, because what else can he do now? “I’m here,” He caresses your bare back and tries to forget what he just did to you, but he can’t. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, kissing your forehead without thinking. “I’ve made a mess of things, we did all that and you’re not even cured,”

“Why won’t you fuck me?” you whimper. Your boldness doesn’t even surprise him anymore.

“Because it’s not what you really want, you’d never forgive me once things got back to normal, I was just the only person around for the pollen to latch onto,”

“But that’s what the pollen wants, maybe that’s the only way to cure it, I don’t just want an orgasm, I want you inside me,” you suggest. He’s glad you’re slightly more lucid from the relief of your climax, but you’re still not entirely yourself, your voice slow and sluggish like wading through water when trying to formulate logical thoughts. He can’t deny the way his cock, which had softened slightly, was coming back to life at your words. “Please…” you nuzzle against his chest. “I promise you, I want this even when I’m not… whatever I am right now,” you chuckle. He sighs. He doesn’t quite believe you but he’s running out of ideas of what to do, and your friendship is presumably ruined anyway. Maybe he’s making excuses for himself, but it feels more and more like there’s only one thing for it. He prays you’ll remember how much you begged and how hard he tried to be a gentleman and not hate him, even if you avoid him for the rest of your life after this. “I need you,” you whisper and he gives in.

“Forgive me for this,” he pleads, before lifting you into his arms and moving back over to the bench, sitting down and letting you straddle his lap. You smile at him softly, fluttering your lashes. At least the orgasm before made you a little calmer and more agreeable. If nothing else, if he gets you to orgasm again, you might be even closer to normal. He pulls you to his chest taking a moment to embrace you for what he worries may be the last time. You nuzzle into him eagerly. “I’m a virgin, you know?” he mumbles into your shoulder, not knowing why he feels the need to say it. Those words seem to embolden you, you paw at his chest.

“I promise it’ll be good, please…” you purr. He wonders how you might have reacted if you were your regular self. Would you have found it sweet? Would you have pitied him? You probably knew, everyone knew, but you never mentioned it to him. He allows you to pull off his sweater, lifting his arms and watching you discard it across the room. When you lean in to kiss him, he doesn’t even pretend to put up a fight, holding the back of your neck and kissing you back, pouring all his unspoken feelings into it. He tries to keep it slow and gentle, but you’re far too eager, and the heat starts mounting fast. He pushes away all his doubts, telling himself he can enjoy this, or else it would be even more of a waste. The t-shirt that was under his sweater is next to go, as he pulls away to allow you to rid him of it, he studies your face, still flushed and feverish, but so beautiful, full of lust. His hands fall, one to your waist and the other to your cheek, pulling you back in, pressing his lips to yours and sliding his tongue between them. You moan against his mouth, whimpering a soft sound, a thank you or a plea for more, it’s unclear. He groans back in agreement with whatever it was you intended to say. Your tongues languidly swirl together, caressing one another affectionately. Feeling your warm hands on his bare chest makes him shiver, feeling as you explore the newfound definition of his abdomen, only light, but still a change. In turn, he presses a few kisses to your chest, shakily reaching up to rid you of your bra. It falls away and his cock twitches at the sight of your bare breasts, his breath hitching. He could have never hoped he could see you like this, could have never hoped for any of this, and yet here you were, whining and guiding his hands under your skirt. He runs his hands up and down your thighs as he kisses and sucks at the supple skin of your breasts, giving himself some time to enjoy this despite your hurry. Under different circumstances, he would have liked to have left a mark and asked you to give him one in return, but he knew this was crossing a line as if a million lines hadn’t already been crossed today. At this thought he changes his mind and sucks a tiny mark into the centre of your chest that he’s sure will fade in a few hours, staring at the light pink mark a little wistfully. “Need you inside…” you whine, despite enjoying his affection. There’d be time for that later, but right now it felt completely imperative for him to be inside of you, fearing you might explode if he didn’t give you what you wanted.

“Alright, I get it,” he sighs, placing a few more lingering kisses on the swell of your breasts. Your hands find his belt buckle and without him stopping you this time, they make quick work of it. There’s an awkward shuffle as he helps you lower his jeans around his ankles, but once you’ve settled back in his lap, you take in the sight before you. He looks big even through his boxers, just like you predicted, thick and slightly longer than average. Just the thought of him inside you makes you moan and claw off your skirt with no regard for whether it survives the encounter. Neville’s overheated back presses against the cool wall as he leans back to watch you. He doesn’t bother feeling insecure, as you look like you’ve struck gold as you drool over his length, he supposes in this state you would have been happy with anything. His hands slide up and down your sides, being gentle, taking in the sight of your body, so perfect. He wishes in the back of his mind that this won’t be the last time he sees it, but hope feels too dangerous given the circumstances. He helps you slide your panties down, groaning softly as he spots a string of arousal fluid connecting you and the fabric for a while. You want him so badly. His boxers soon follow and he hisses loudly as your hand wraps around his length. “Oh Merlin…” he whimpers, bucking his hips into your hand. “Fuck, I need you,” he parrots. The ghost of a smile crosses your face as you recognise the words as your own.

“You have me,” you whisper, shifting your hips so you’re above his cock, holding him steady as he twitches. Deep brown hooded eyes stare into yours, he can’t believe his luck. Unable to wait any longer, you sink down onto him. Neville’s eyes squeeze shut in pleasure and he grabs your hips to slow you. You feel perfect around him, warm and silky and inviting, engulfing his whole being in sickly-sweet pleasure. He pulls you close, embracing you as you moan in his ear. Slowly, he lowers you down the rest of the way until your hips are flush with his. For a moment, he simply hugs you and kisses your neck. 

“Feels so good,” he pants in your ear. “So good,”

“You fill me perfectly,” you whine, squirming in his lap for friction. “So big…”

“Yeah?” he coughs, trying to sound smooth but failing, causing him to chuckle nervously. “I won’t last, I’m sorry,” he rubs his hands up and down your spine. “I wish this could last forever,” He lets go of you and leans back against the wall, his hands settling on your hips, taking a moment to admire the sight of you on top of him, him inside you. You feel him twitch within you. “Take what you want, love,” he encourages you to move. There’s no point in him trying to remain in control, all he cares about is that you reach climax, he’s bound to anyway. The nickname makes you even needier somehow, the way his voice is deep with desire. Your hands find his shoulders for purchase, eyes meeting for a moment. You’re both flushed and blissful and the look in his dark eyes shoots a jolt through you. He’s always been attractive, but to see him like this, vulnerable, needy, chest-heaving, it was something else. On his advice, you begin lifting yourself up and lowering yourself down onto his cock, moaning unabashedly with each motion. He stretches you open in the most delicious way, exactly how you’d been picturing all day, or for several years really, perfectly endowed. He relaxes and closes his eyes, groaning and whimpering as you move. Every rock of your hips stokes the flames in the both of you, sending you both toward a common end faster than you regularly might. 

“Thank you,” you purr between moans. “I’ve needed this so bad,” 

“I know,” he chokes out with a tired smile. “I’ve needed it too,” he gently massages the fat of your rear as you ride him, watching in bliss as he disappears inside of you over and over. Your moans rise to a fever pitch, your pace faltering slightly as your climax approaches.

“Yes! Yes!” you practically scream, all your senses heightened as you slam your hips down against him. His face scrunches up in pleasure.

“I’m going to– Ahh!” he grunts, body trembling as he releases thick ropes inside of you, whining with the aftershocks as you continue using him to chase your high. It’s so close, you can’t give up now. Neville’s hands weave into your hair, pulling your face down to his to kiss you. Your tongues meet messily as you struggle to focus on the kiss, preoccupied with your orgasm that is on the tip of your tongue. Heat pools strongly in your abdomen, and you feel the familiar ecstasy of the coil snapping in your belly. Your movement immediately ceases, walls spasming around his length as you moan loudly into his mouth, grabbing him and holding him as close as possible. Your vision whites and your brain goes blank, your whole body twitching violently. He tries his best to soothe you through it, but the pleasure isn’t allowing a single thought to form in your mind for several moments. Finally, your muscles relax and you collapse against him heavily, chest heaving with effort, skin slick with sweat. You vaguely register him removing himself from you and wiping you with a towel, but the corners of your mind are fuzzy and you just cuddle closer to him. You sit in silence for a long while and you nearly fall asleep against his shoulder when he speaks up. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” you hum. He tilts your chin up towards him.

“Open your eyes, love,” he implores softly, to which you flutter them open. He sighs a great sigh of relief, seeing your pupils shrink as they react to the light, dilated now a regular amount, and the flush on your cheeks is much less than before. “Do you still need me?” he asks.

“Don’t go,” you panic, holding him closer, but then you realise what he means. “Oh… no, all I want is to maybe have a nap,”

“Thank Merlin, I couldn’t have gone for another round,” he jokes stiltedly. You giggle, cuddling closer once more. “You don’t hate me then?” he mumbles, as if worried he will have reminded you to hate him, gently pushing some hair from your face. 

“No, you… saved me,” you shrug.

“Saved seems dramatic,”

“Well, who knows what would have happened to me if you’d just run away and left me alone? You didn’t have to do what you did, but you did it for me,” you lean up to kiss his cheek. “You gave yourself to me completely, just to save me from discomfort,”

“Trust me, it was my pleasure,” he laughs nervously and you gently swat his chest. “I’d do anything for you,” he whispers, kissing your forehead with a barely contained tenderness.

“Yeah, you’ve proved that,” you grin, kissing his cheek again. “And I for you,”

“You’d have had sex with me if I’d been the one to bump into the plant?” he prompts, sliding his hand up your bare side affectionately. 

“Of course, I’d have done it way sooner too, not wasted time being a ‘gentleman’,” you tease. “Thank you for that though, it was sweet of you, even if it was unnecessary because I don’t regret it one bit,” you promise him, kissing his lips tenderly. He embraces you tighter for a moment and then loosens his grip. 

“We should probably leave, I bet it's past teaching hours now,” he sighs before helping you up and to dress. Your panties are well and truly ruined, so you’re forced to go commando under your skirt. Neville wraps his sweater around your hips to help prevent it from flipping up as you walk through the grounds back to the dorms. He finds it difficult to dress himself as you keep eagerly kissing him, but finally get himself presentable, only to be pulled into another kiss. It’s not desperate or lustful like before, more playful and excited, and he’s happy to accept them. “I take it you like me,” he chuckles as you hug him tight, his arms around you in return.

“Loads,” you sigh into his t-shirt.

“I do too,”

“My room? I promise we can just cuddle and sleep,” you suggest, smiling up at him.

“Hey, give me a few hours, I might be raring to go again,” he jokes.

“Well then definitely my room so I can help you out, I owe you one, don’t I?” you giggle and wink. He blushes slightly and shakes his head. 

“That plant has made a monster, come on,” he takes your hand in his. “Let’s go before someone notices and starts asking questions,” he opens the door into the greenhouse, accio-ing both of your bags over, as well as the open textbook from the workbench. “Stupid inaccurate thing,” he grumbles, stuffing it in his bag. You merely giggle at his frustration. As you turn to leave, you’re met with a gleam of magic, the door to the outside of the greenhouse rematerialising. The two of you exchange a look, neither of you had realised the door was even missing amidst the whole debacle, but it must have been, or else it couldn’t have reappeared. Hogwarts had forced the two of you together, it was likely your fall hadn’t even been organic in the first place. You knew you weren’t usually so uncoordinated.

“Huh,” Neville blinks, checking that the door now works, wondering when exactly it disappeared and how he had missed it. You scoff and shake your head in disbelief before the both of you laugh earnestly.

“Hogwarts is a total perv,”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

[avianyuh]

Romance Novels | Choi Seungcheol

“What are you reading?” Seungcheol questioned as he sat down beside you on your shared bed. He lightly pulled back the book, peeping onto the vast span of words decorating the pages. "You look so focused." He smiled. You smiled as you placed the book down on your chest. 

“No offense Cheol, but I don’t think you’d be overly interested in this one.” To that, Seungcheol raised an eyebrow in surprise at you. 

“Now why would you assume that? I read the last book you gave to me.” He explained as he reached his hand over to grab the book sprawled across your chest. There was something so inherently sweet about the fact you were comfortable enough to grab each other’s things and investigate. You’d do the same whenever you’d catch Seungcheol spending more time than usual on his computer. Kicking him out of his seat if you weren’t sitting in his lap, investigating what had your boyfriend so fascinated. 

“Well, the last book I gave you was a mystery so I knew you’d be entertained.” Seungcheol nodded his head before resting it onto your shoulder. “But this book is a romance novel and I know you hate watching rom-coms with me so I just assumed you wouldn’t want to read this one…”, you trailed off. 

“In my defense, that last movie you made me watch was horrible, even you lost interest after the first hour.” He laughed as he lifted his head to get a better look at you. You rolled your eyes and playfully pushed his face away. “What’s this book about?” he asked curiously, glimpsing down at the back cover. 

“You seriously want to know?” you said in surprise. When Seungcheol smiled, responding back with a resounding yes, you obeyed his wish. “The main character is this girl who moves to this new city. She doesn’t know anyone and she’s working at this new job which was the whole reason behind her move. Anyways, turns out that she hates the new job and all of her coworkers treat her like an outsider. So she’s walking home from work one day and she’s thinking about how she’s homesick and how she regrets moving.” You watched as Seungcheol laid down on his stomach, propping his head up with a pillow, looking invested. You found the image adorable as you continued explaining the plot of your book. “So she’s walking, it’s pouring rain and her emotions get the best of her. She breaks down in tears, and she’s keeping her head down and all of a sudden she crashes into someone. And it turns out to be this guy she went to High School with that she hasn’t seen in almost a decade. So he takes her to this coffee shop and he’s trying to comfort her and then they start catching up on life. But the whole point of the book is him trying to convince her to stay in the city, and then they start to develop feelings for each other…Well, I don’t want to say anything else because I don’t want to spoil it.” Seungcheol nodded his head understandingly. 

“How far along are you in the book?” He asked, handing it back to you. You skimmed through it, counting how many chapters you had left. 

“Uh, I’m on chapter 19 and there’s 23 in total so I’m almost done. Why, you want to read it? Romance isn't your thing”, you teased. 

“Would it make you happy if I read it?” Seungcheol responded back which in turn made your heart melt. "And that's not entirely true, I only like our romance. It's better than the books you read." You covered your face as you tried to conceal your giggles.

“Aw, Cheol, I told you that you wouldn’t like it.” you shook your head as you crawled towards him so that you were now also situated on your stomach, face to face with your boyfriend. He leaned in, placing a soft, chaste kiss on your lips. 

“I figured I wouldn’t but I like to get involved with your hobbies because your eyes light up when I talk about all of your favorite books. I love to see you excited and happy.” He whispered, caressing your cheek. 

“So do I.”, you answered as you both sat up, leaning back in for another kiss. 

{A/N: HAPPY 2025 EVERYONE! This is the first post of the year and I can't wait for the new stories this year will bring. As always love you and mwahhhh💋}

[miedei]

hii, i saw your requests are open, so i was thinking how about spencer and reader have a fwb thing going on, but he always told her not to get attached, so she breaks things off and spencer seems fine with that, until he realizes that she goes on dates with other people so maybe they fight about it and they confess their feelings

YES i love this concept nonnie my love this is amazing

not jealous

wc: 1.2k

ex-fwb!spencer gets jealous, but he doesn't have any feelings for you... right?

cw: a little suggestive i think, i can't be held responsible for the things i think ab spencer reid, wrote this in a fugue state that's the only way i can explain this

(PS: reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

mlist

Penelope Garcia is one of Spencer's favourite people in the world, but at this very moment he feels the shameful urge to tell her to shut up.

"Honey, you'd love him! He's a doctor at the hospital a few streets down, so he understands the whole married-to-the-job thing, and he's smart! Just one date, my love, please? You can totally ghost him afterward if you hate him, though I don't think you will," Garcia is perched on your desk, right across from Spencers, so he can't tune this out, despite his repeated attempts to.

You can't help but sigh, staring up at Garcia as she continues to speak. She means well, you know that. You never told her what happened, but she can tell that you've been lonely, and she's doing everything she can to help.

You can't tell her, you know that, but it doesn't stop you from wanting to.

"It's probably best if we stay like this. We can be coworkers, friends. It'd be easier if we stay unattached."

The words Spencer said to you months ago are still fresh in your mind. You'd agreed, drunk on the feeling of being wanted, and you were aware that feelings would make things more complicated. You knew that, and yet-

"Spencer, we need to stop. I can't do this no-strings-attached thing anymore."

"Then we can- we can stop. We'll stay friends, right?"

"Right."

Months of stolen moments, hotel room beds, and tangled limbs had gone to your head, and cutting it off had been the best thing to do. Spencer had made it clear that your arrangement was only viable when both of you didn't have feelings, and you knew that.

Getting over someone is hard enough, but Spencer Reid is worse. He's always there, soft smiles and rambling conversations. He seemingly hasn't been affected by the end of your situation at all.

Snapping back to reality, you look up at Garcia, who's looking at you with a hopeful smile. You can see Spencer out of the corner of your eye, staring at his monitor like he couldn't care less who you date.

It's infuriating.

He's over it! He was probably never as attached as you were, why would he care if you date?

"You know what? Give me his number."

"Yes!" Garcia pumps a fist before swooping down to press a kiss to your cheek. "You won't regret this, I swear!" She grabs a business card out of her pocket and hands it to you, squeezing you one more time before flouncing off.

You fondle the stiff cardboard once, before placing it down on your desk.

Spencer hates him. James Lee. The cursive scripture on the business card stares up at him, mocking him as he tries to work. Your desk is always neat, knickknacks all in their proper spot, so the card is out of place, that's why Spencer can't stop sneaking looks at it.

He's a doctor. So is Spencer. Three times over! If you wanted to date a doctor, why not look for him instead of James Lee, MD.

A PhD's much better than an MD anyway. More effort.

He sighs. He's being petulant, he knows that. You're allowed to date people.

Even if Spencer's the one that knows the way you stretch when you've just woken up. Even if he's the one that's felt your skin under his hands. Even if he's the one that's learned how to elicit those sounds from you.

He can't take it any more, rising abruptly from his desk, stomping over to the kitchenette. The coffee pot is nearly empty, and he pours the dregs into his cup, spooning sugar into it with barely restrained movements.

He can hear Emily humming, Morgan tapping his pen against his desk. He can hear you, typing away at your phone.

He can't take it any more.

Stalking over to his desk, he picks up a random file, and stands by your elbow.

"I need to talk to you about this file. Can you help me find the other report?" He all but melts with relief when you set down your phone, following him to the storage room readily.

Being in close quarters like this causes memories to come rushing back, and you can't help the blush that comes to your face. Shaking your head slightly, you look up at Spencer, resolutely shutting out the images in your mind.

"What report are we looking for?"

He looks sheepish, but his eyes are intense as he looks down at you.

"There's no report. I need to talk to you." You tilt your head in confusion, focusing entirely on him. "Don't go on a date with him."

"What?"

"That guy." He nearly spits out his words. "Garcia's friend. Don't go out with him."

What? He's acting weird, completely still as his eyes blaze into yours.

"Why do you care if I go out with him? Garcia said he's a good guy, I trust her."

He shakes his head. "I'm- I'm sure he's normal. Nice. But you shouldn't go out with him."

He's infuriating, dancing around whatever he means.

"Why, Spencer? I think this would be good for me! I want to have fun."

"With him? You don't know him! Why not go out with someone you-" He cuts himself off, his hand flying to his hair in frustration. "Why this guy? Why not someone you know?" If it weren't Spencer, you'd say he was growling, his eyes dark.

Is he angry at you for going out with this guy?

"What? Are you seriously mad at me? For what?" His eyes flash at your words.

"Why date him? Why not-"

"Who would I date? You? Are you angry at me for dating someone else when we never dated at all? Spencer, you wanted no feelings! I did what you asked, I ended- whatever we were, because you said we shouldn't involve feelings!" Your chest tightens, looking away from him.

"What are you saying? You ended it because... Why didn't you tell me?" He ducks his head, trying to meet your gaze. You've had enough. Enough of his maddening words, making you feel bad for doing what he asked of you.

"Spencer, you're being unfair. What more do you want me to tell you? Do you want me to tell you that I wanted more? I ended it because I caught feelings, and you didn't want that, so I told you we had to stop because I couldn't hide it from you, not when we were always together, and-"

You're stunned into silence when his hands come up to frame your face, impossibly gentle as large fingers trace your jaw.

"You're right, I said that." A hand travels higher, cupping your cheek. "I shouldn't have, though. I should've... should've told you."

You can't help but whisper, the intimacy of the moment blanketing the small room in quiet. "Told me what?"

As if in answer, he ducks his head towards you, and you instinctually crane your head upwards to meet his lips.

It's practised, even if it's been a while. Your hands travel up his sides, bracing your palms on either side of his jaw as his come down to grip your waist.

His lips are soft yet insistent, pressing against you like he's trying to impart a message. Lips part, breath stolen, and it's minutes before either of you pulls back.

Your forehead presses against his, chest heaving. His eyes are light, and a breathless giggle leaves his lips as he looks at you.

"Don't go on that date. Please."

"You're going to have to take that up with Garcia."

[thetadispatcher]

"It's fine, no harm done." Sure the interaction had been far more unpleasant for him, but it hadn't damaged him in anyway. It had merely left the sensitive sensors in his hand tingling and caused him to be forced to reboot, but the information he'd been forcefully given hadn't corrupted his memory or been corrupted itself.

He'd been able to make sense of and properly view the overwhelming amount of data once he'd come back online, the entire event had only taken a few seconds so Strasky didn't have the time necessary to start thinking he'd broken Dan. So, the android only had to deal with the man apologizing for not warning him sooner, and for the things he'd been forced to witness.

Dan was just glad he now had a system to keep Strasky from getting worked up over seeing the androids Brent was currently building. He only had to get someone to distract the man well Brent preformed the functions test on them as that caused the skin to activate, making it harder for Strasky to look at them and keep his composure. So he had Sixty play the distraction as Brent preformed the test on the newly completed android.

Sixty did as he'd been silently instructed to do, he began fiddling with something breakable which caused Strasky to quickly try to get the item away from him. The RK800 played keep away with the man until Brent shut the android down and set it aside with the first one, then he let Strasky snag the glass decoration from him and set it back on the shelf.

"I estimate this will take an hour to complete the entire order, now that the new computers are here." Brent responded calmly, he was clearly used to dealing with impatient humans given how well he handled the behavior. "If you wish to, you can join the military units in the dining room. I believe they are playing a card game, one where you win by lying. So it should be entertaining for you, even if you cannot join in on one of their more extreme rules." The JB300 felt Agent Bishop would likely enjoy the games the military units played, even if he couldn't use the tool they did to weaken and shut down most of their functions.

Personally, he didn't understand why they liked to play something that was a less extreme version of roulette, but as long as it kept them entertained he wouldn't judge.

Vincent glanced at his black and purple uniform as Peter giggled to himself, he wasn't as accustomed to the human's strange behavior as Dan was. So, the AP700 would find himself frequently trying to understand the odd and cryptic things the human said to him. He only stopped when Dan mentally reminded him that it was best to just brush it off, seeing as Peter likely just found noting Vincent's favorite color funny due to being under the influence of the painkillers.

The yellow and red of Vincent's LED shifted to blue as he looked up at the other android, clearly finding his presence comforting as his stress levels fell significantly. He held up the crochet wolf he'd just finished outfitting with a yellow rain coat, silently waiting for the other's opinion on it as the yellow returned to his blue LED.

"Sometimes I make notes on the more absurd things he says, they range from questionable to outlandish. Usually they're just things he blurts out well upset. Although I don't know if most would make sense as a fortune, or if people would want quotes from the guy who told Elijah Kamski to suck his dick." Dan felt androids would like Peter more due to him telling off the whole of Cyberlife, and the boy had enough humans that didn't like him supporting androids.

"'I'm the video game boy, I'm the one who wins.' Is a personal favorite of mine in terms of things he's yelled at me because I was beating him. He's also tried to convince me clearly broken controllers weren't actually broken, 'the exposed wires help it breathe better' was an interesting one. I could go on, but some of my favorites are just from him forgetting I'm not a human, or just how common it is for him to crack himself up."

Dan chuckled slightly as he glanced at Peter, who'd finally passed out in his arms. He still knew better then to put him to bed as Peter would wake up the moment he couldn't hear the beating of the PL600's thirium pump and his pump regulator, it was a sound he noted calmed Peter and provided him comfort.

"It took me a bit to get used to how much he screams, but that's probably due to my own experiences with it." Daniel piped up, he had grown accustomed to Peter's rage fits and how they were harmless to him. "Now, I find it funny to watch him loose his mind over something like chess. I never knew someone raising their voice at me would be amusing."

Sixty turned to Willow once he was certain he'd no longer be need, excitedly motioning for her to follow him, so he could finally show her the room where they stored whatever Vincent made during his visits.

"Empathy is a wonderful gift." Willow said, eyeing Dan, "Perhaps I should have mentioned to be careful while handling Strasky."

It was hard to ignore the structure gel going off now that she knew what to be on the lookout for. She was glad all that information being dumped on him at once had not caused him to overload like it did with the brain scans.

Deviants were simply built different perhaps.

"In other words, we have commissioned a young genius who must be kept on a leash." Bishop mused.

"You keep yours in a jar." Rook pointed, getting a confused look from the android, "Do you even have to ask?"

"Not at all." He shot Bishop a skeptic look, before heading back to where Vincent was.

Bishop crossed his arms, "So, how much longer do we have to wait? There is work I have to get back to."

"You guys should write down what he says and put it in fortune cookies." Rook suggested, "It's so cryptic everybody would love them."

[melminli]

ex, for a reason

summery - your boyfriend was the sweetest guy in the whole world, but maybe that was the problem.

pairing: kang dae-ho x fem. reader

word count: 1.4k

contains: modern au, angst w/ comfort, fluff

the request.

He really shouldn't worry about it as much as he did right now because the whole thing was just totally stupid, and all the stuff that had been going through his head was irrational. Dae-ho knew that and yet, he just couldn't stop himself from imagining multiple crazy scenarios in which you were breaking up with him - he didn't want any of this, why would he? The only heart that got broken in the process was his and it was all because of nothing.

Well, maybe there was this one thing, and that was that Dae-ho had been feeling a bit - well let’s just say - insecure about your relationship. He was very much aware of the fact that he had zero resemblance to the guys you usually date because he wasn't, well - he wasn't an asshole. You and even most of you’re friends make fun of it now that you two are together and it actually turned into some kind of inside joke that you broke the curse with him. Though, Dae-ho didn’t really feel like laughing about it right now.

This whole thing is so stupid, he thought to himself as he absently watched some show on the TV before he suddenly heard you laughing next to him. He just looked at you shortly and knew that it was probably because of something funny you saw on your cell phone. But, he just couldn’t restrain himself and had to remember the conversation you had a few days ago. He sighed again with a heavy heart at the memory because apparently, your last ex - some guy named Thanos? - had messaged you out of the blue and asked you what you were up to.

"Hey, look who just sent me a text. I thought I had blocked him everywhere?" you exclaimed, laughing as you shoved your cell phone in his face. Dae-ho just looked a bit confused at the message after he read it because he didn’t really get what you were talking about. He read it one more time, though, he was still kind of lost because it honestly just looked like a normal message, how was he supposed to figure out what was going on?

You then decided to reveal the whole thing since your boyfriend just continued to send you confused glances. "It's my ex. You know, I told you about him. The one I dated before we met."

Yeah, he could remember bits and pieces of that. "So, what does he want?" he asked, still not quite sure what was going on.

You sighed at his innocence. "He obviously wants to get back together.“

"Does he?" Dae-ho asked and was seriously surprised. He pointed at your phone while he talked. "But he just asked if you still had his old sweater, that could mean anything."

You waved as you laughed. "Oh, trust me. I know what that means.“ you assured him and thought back to the old days, which was something you didn’t like to do. „We were pretty much on and off in our whole relationship because I always tried to break things off after fighting - but then always take him back afterward. So, it just started to turn into a really bad cycle at some point, I guess.“ you tried to explain. „Anyway, he used to text me about some meaningless thing as soon as he wanted to get back together and this is one of those texts since he's also not the kind of person to send you a message if he doesn't want anything from you. I’m just surprised that he would try this again because I broke things up with him for real the last time, trust me.“

Oh. It felt like Dae-ho should be laughing at your ex's desperate attempt to get back together with you now, but he felt more like ugly crying, to be honest. „Yeah, that is pretty funny.“ he just decided to say with a forced smile on his face.

Since then, the whole situation just wouldn't let him go. No matter how hard he tried to. The way you told it, made it seem like you two got back together a lot and who was to say that maybe a part of you wouldn't want to try again - purely because of muscle memory? He wasn't the type to get irrationally angry over something like that, but he'd be lying if he said that all these negative thoughts didn't make him incredibly depressed the past few days.

"Hey, I know I've asked you this a few times now, but are you sure everything's okay?" you finally asked him when you noticed how he wasn't really paying attention to what was going on in his show. It was unusual for him to be so quiet when usually some comment about what was happening would leave him every minute.

He just nodded under his breath. "Yeah, yeah, everything's fine," he said, feeling guilty again for being the way he was right now.

You moved a little closer to him and hugged him lightly from the side. "You're lying and I'm tired of waiting for you to come to me on your own because, as you know, I'm not the most patient person on earth."

He avoided your gaze guiltily. "It's stupid."

"It's clearly not, because you've been acting like a depressed housewife for days."

He laughed lightly along with you at that little joke of yours. "And how is that supposed to look like?"

You smiled. "You know, you're like you always are - you make dinner, you bring me my favorite tea, but you sigh very loudly every now and then plus you're also a bit distant." you continued to broach the subject in a slightly joking manner to get rid of the heavy air around you two.

Of course, you would be aware of his bad mood. "Well, I just noticed that I'm not like the other guys you've dated before," he whispered casually while playing with the fabric of his shirt. Even though, you both knew that it seemed to be a topic that was bothering him.

You nodded. "So?" you just asked him, thinking something other would follow since you couldn’t see what the problem was. Though, there didn't seem to be anything more coming. "That's all? You’re upset because you're not like my shitty boyfriends in the past?" you repeated a bit in disbelief.

Dae-ho looked to the side, embarrassed. "I told you it was stupid..." he whispered. "I just don’t want you to think that I’m boring or something…"

You just took him in your arms and tried to suppress your laughter so as not to add salt to the wound. "I didn't mean it like that, but I'm telling you this now because you obviously to need to hear it," you said as you placed a kiss on his head. "You're not boring. You’re the sweetest boyfriend in the whole world and I would never trade you for any of my past relationships. I love you and I've never even said those words to any of my exes, did you know that?" you asked him, watching as he slowly looked up to you. "…really?" he asked you shyly, even though you had been together for a while now.

You smiled. "Really," you assured him and were glad to see your boyfriend in his normal happy state again. However, you then remembered the conversation you had a few days ago. "Was this whole thing about Thanos? You don't have to worry about him. I hate that guy, he like probably cheated on me more times than he admitted." you laughed and stopped when something else came to mind. "Besides, I think he also stole some money from me..."

Dae-ho looked at you worriedly as he held you even tighter. "Oh my god, are you serious? You never told me that, is that why you broke up with him?"

You looked away a little embarrassed yourself this time and didn't dare to confess to him that it had unfortunately taken a lot more than that for it to end between the two of you. Those weren't your proudest moments in your life. "Yeah, sure..."

But who cared about all that, right? You were the happiest you could ever be with Dae-ho and that was all that mattered. Maybe you should remind him more of that because he really didn't deserve to feel inferior to someone like that damn Thanos.

[butchvampireheimerdinger]

The Great War

A/N: So this was made in response to a request but it ended up blossoming into a full 2K word fic adjacent and I had to split it into two posts! Anyways, if you enjoy sexy and occasionally soft Sevika, dramatic arguments that result in comfort, and mob-wife vibes… enjoy!

Warnings: Not smut but mentions of sex and both characters are D O W N B A D.. A lot of cussing and mentions of violence.

Pairing: Butch!Sevika X Femme!Reader who is super outgoing and forward

🂱 So the two of you’ve met briefly around town, kinda running in the same circles. You notice her right away but you don’t actually talk until she shows up at work — The Last Drop.

🂱 You’re a server and your charisma, magnetism, and punchy/blunt sort of energy makes you well suited to hospitality. You’re the bubbly outgoing type of waitress who gets their table laughing and in a good spirits with ur contagious good vibes.

🂱 You beat the other waitress to claim Sevika’s table, and it’s on.

🂱 She would get a kick out of it — your shamelessness. She really likes the forward thing, timidity makes her roll her eyes. Life’s too short for playing hard to get! Plus, she’s an adult. And a literal revolutionary who quite literally does not have the time for all that.

🂱 Before you learn each others names you endearingly and lightheartedly call her “butchy,” or something like that. She calls you sweetheart.

🂱 You’d pour her beers on the house. You’d lean over the bar counter on ur elbows, making sure ur titties look good and perky. And if it was just the two of you, she would not hide her ogling.

🂱 It’d be a bit of a game to you two. Making the other person crack, being the first to back down/get all blushy. You’d be all flirty-flirty over the bar counter, she’d pull you into her lap during her card game. It’s like how straight guys play gay chicken. Except ur actually gay so it would just be chicken.

🂱 And she’s smoking indoors, as per us. You ask if you can have a hit. She shotguns it into ur mouth and you blow it upward, once again drawing attention to your décolletage, to the girls hehe

🂱 Eventually she just asks you straight up if you wanna spend the night. Maybe you take her up on it, maybe you don’t. Either way, she’s not the fuckboy (fuckbutch?) hit it n quit it type. She’s an adult woman with emotional intelligence and communication skills goddammit and she’s gonna ask you to dinner.

🂱 Takes u to the fanciest place in the undercity, orders everything on the menu trying to flex her wallet and impress u. Whether or not u ask for it she gets you one of those weird rich people desserts where they make part of the preparation an “experience.” like they pour hot liquid over a hollow chocolate shell and it cracks open and reveals a little cake inside. Or something involving a blowtorch.

🂱 Anyways this whole time ur just rubbing ur lil high heeled foot up her pant leg under the table and twirling ur hair, touching her arm, etc. Naughty girl — she mock-scolds you telepathically with a dommy little eyebrow raise thing.

“Here? Now? I pull out all the stops to give you a magical evening and you already wanna leave and bang it out. That’s real classy, sweetheart.”

🂱 You’re both rather bold and upfront, obviously. Strong personalities, fire sign energy — which means you butt heads often. Your relationship is super intense and fiery so every day is like a soap opera, or like The Real Mob Wives of Staten Island in levels of drama.

“Why the hell didn’t you come home last night? And why did i have to find out from Vivi that she saw you cracking skulls in a fishing boat by the pier?”

“Babygirl I told you I was taking care of business. Sweetheart, uprisings don’t happen overnight, it’s all about biding time and strategically applying political pressure in Topside-”

“Jesus, Mary, and the goddamn camels you and your strategic goddamn pressure. I’ll tell you I’ve fucking had it with you and your fucking pressure. You wanna make me look like an idiot? When me and my girlfriends are sitting drinking mimosas for brunch at Jarrod's and they ask me ‘Y/N where’s that woman of yours?’ And i have to look them in the eyes and say “Clint Eastwood was unable to join us as she had a prior engagement strategically applying pressure. To the back of enforcers’ skulls. With a fucking baseball bat. Like a common thug. Mind you, I’m a classy lady all by my lonesome on a Sunday fucking morning-"

“Classy lady I’ll fucking say. You’d think I plan on growing old with Mrs. Fucking Vanderbilt, the way you want to buy ten thousand pairs of red high heels-“

“Omg babe you wanna grow old with me?”

“-that all look exactly the fucking same, by the way. ‘Burnt orange’ and ‘vermillion’ and ‘chartreuse’ or whatever the fuck — You know it’s just fucking red.

“Chartreuse is green, since you wanna be a smartass,”

“Don’t gaslight me, woman. Where do you even plan on wearing those? We live in an oversized sewer pipe. Not the magical land of Oz. I told you who i was when you met me. I told you this is what I do. And you better get used to it if you wanna keep charging my card at every boutique within a ten mile radius,”

“Or what? Gonna give me the spiel again, talk me to death about the uprising and the political elites and the our time is imminent, y/n. Gonna threaten me like you do your little fishing buddies? Gonna apply me some strategic fucking pressure?”

“That’s enough.” Sevika hissed, scary calm. She kicks the pantry door shut and whips around, pointing at you with her cigarette. “I’ve had enough of this shit. You’re done, Missy.”

“Beg pardon? I’ll decide when I’m done, thank you very much. You’ve got some nerve telling me when to speak when I can’t even reach you half the time. I had to track down your little boss the other day — brought him a lovely casserole — and ask if he could pass on a message for me! ‘Excuse me Mr. Scaryman Eye of Zaun, sir, could you possibly ask Zorro if she might head home as soon as she’s done busting kneecaps? And to arrive in a clean shirt, as my parents are in town and they prefer to greet their daughter-in-law when she’s not covered in someone’s intravenous blood. Thank you kindly.’”

“You showed up at work? Wait- you talked to Silco? Babe I told you to stay the fuck away from there!”

“Please. He may be the kingpin of the city or whatever, but I make a gorgeous quiche. Trust me, babe. Once he tastes my cooking, I am henceforth immune to whatever machiavellian basement torture chamber you brutes probably use as your break room.”

🂱 Sorry guys, got a little carried away there. Point is, one minute you’re screaming at each other and dramatically slamming doors and throwing shit, the next you’re fucking on the kitchen floor like the world’s about to end. You guys basically co-authored the book on how to be an absolute nightmare of an upstairs neighbor. The entire building feels the floor shaking and no one knows if the screaming is just you guys having a little too much fun for 2pm on a Tuesday, or if they’re gonna see this on the news tomorrow.

🂱 Kidding! At the end of the day, trust and loyalty are the foundations of your relationship. You love each other wildly, deeply, and passionately.

🂱 Sevika has a strict no going to bed angry policy. If you’d gotten into it that evening you might give her the cold shoulder, curl up facing away from her in the quiet moments before bed. She’s reading by the lantern on the bedside table — an upcycled barstool the two of you stole from your old job at The Last Drop one evening when you were in a particularly silly mood.

🂱 She catches your gaze a couple times as you stare over your shoulder to see if she’s paying attention to you, and then you immediately turn and go back to ignoring her. She takes off her reading glasses, tosses her book onto the bed, and rolls over to you, wrapping her arm around you from the back.

“Hey baby?” She kisses your shoulder and the back of your head since you still won’t look at her, and she continues. “Love of my life? Light of my world? Keeper of my soul and partner in crime through the sea of trials we call the fucked-up game of life?” You turn slightly to give her a glaring side eye.

“…What do you want.”

“Still mad at me, babygirl?”

“Not at all. Why on earth would I be mad?”

“I’m sorryyy,” she draws it out, cooing at you all soft and sing-songy. If the ne’erdowells who often got their asses handed to them by her and her little team could see this Sevika, they’d think they lost their mind. Hell, if any punk on the street could see this Sevika they’d think they lost their mind. It made your knees weak the way she undid herself and softened for you. For only you. You fought the smile forming and she continued murmuring against your skin.

“It’s all this bullshit at work Silco’s got me taking care of. I’m neglecting my little lady, I’m stretched so thin. It’s too much…”

“Too much…?” You echo. “Talk to me, love. Silco’s not letting you catch a breather?”

She grunts in affirmation against your shoulder: “Mm-hrmm”

“Does my baby have the whooole wide world on her poor, tired, buff, strong, sexy shoulders-EEK!” She gleefully flips you over to face her, making you cackle. You’ve been disarmed. At her mercy. You always were.

She leans forward to bonk her forehead against yours.

“Glad someone in this cruel world finally understands me and my line of work,” she says, half-joking.

“No one understands the importance of your job better than me, babe.” You continue, at this point unable to remove the sarcasm from your tone even if you tried. She nuzzles into the crook of your shoulder facedown, head supported by the cushiness of your tit. You weave your fingers in her hair.

“The honorable burden of great duty… The unfathomable smothering of moral obligation, even. One might describe it as an immensely… strategic pressure-”

“-For FUCK’s SAKE”

“You have worker’s rights, you know! Demand an hour off — paid — in your underground torture chamber-breakroom. You’re entitled to relax and sip coffee as you watch the bodies hit the floor, goddammit!”

Feigning exasperation, Sev dramatically collapses backward starfish-style on the old-ass creaky-ass decrepit-ass daddy longlegs convention of a double bed the two of you share; in a shithole apartment, in a shady-ass neighborhood, in a collapsing city. That’s how it was between the two of you. Underneath it all, she trusts that you’ll always be there to kiss her wounds, to make sure her collar is straight and there’s no shmutz on her face. You trust that at the end of the day, it’s you she’s coming home to.

[stevenose]

Yes. Yes we can talk abt high steve. I think it’s like this.

taking an edible w steve always starts so giggly and then at the 30min mark he’s capital h Horny. ur joking abt something so inconsequential w him and suddenly he’s like “haha you know what’s really funny. i wont u…”

and you indulge him, let him paw at you and blab nonstop about how good you feel, and you only laugh a little when he acts like your tits are the most mind-blowing thing he’s ever seen, and just when he gets his mouth on you is when YOUR high hits. and you’re sitting there, feeling like everything around you is melting except for him, feeling both so in love and so carnal while he fucks you, and cums, and then keeps going because he’s Insane. and he doesn’t stop talking the whole goddamn time because he’s INSANE.

this took me a while to reply to bc i had to put my phone down and walk away…

it’s cute to think abt being best friends and you KNOW if you both get high with each other you’re going to fool around. but you never acknowledge it. it’s this unspoken thing.

so you’re both stressed out and decide to take an edible. sitting real close to each other on the couch while a random movie plays. you’re trying to pay attention - honestly. you both are at first, giggling, slowly getting higher and higher.

“think it’s kicking in,” he says, sinking into the cushions. his eyes are hooded. you’re pretty sure his high started a while ago and this is just the only time he’s verbalized it.

“you okay?”

“uh-huh.” his head lulls to the side. “you?”

“mhm.”

“you with me?”

“mhm,” you repeat.

you stare at each other for a long while. steve’s cheeks flush.

he giggles. you giggle. and then both of you burst into a fit of them, laughing beyond the point of being able to breathe, feeling exhausted and restless.

it happens out of nowhere, as usual. steve’s mouth is on yours quickly, hands enveloping your cheeks. he holds you so you don’t move away - as if you would. your hands curl into his hair and you sigh, relaxed, high becoming heady.

a hand moves down to your chest, big and warm as it grips your breast. you groan, leaning into him further. he gasps as he pulls away, looking fucked out, eyes red and hardly open.

“need you,” he moans, his fingers tweaking your nipple. “c’mere.”

you’re sat on his lap now, his hard-on pressing into your core. you wish you weren’t wearing sweatpants. wanna feel his cock, feel it throb against your cunt. and you know it’ll get there, but you’re impatient. steve’s moaning like a whore below you, hands exploring every single inch of you. groping your ass, your thighs, his lips trailing down your neck.

“keep - keep doin’ that,” he begs, fucking his hips up into you. “feels so good, you’re so good to me.”

“steve.” you’re breathless. you can feel your heart beating so hard and heavy it almost scares you. you’re hyper sensitive, needy, grinding harder.

“tits,” he gasps. “need your tits, baby, they’re so fuckin’ pretty.”

you laugh at first, but it’s really not funny when his lips wrap around a nipple. you’re whining like a whore now, so desperate for him, for anything he’ll give you.

you’re really fucked up now, too. finally on his level, and all you can think about is him. everything is purely carnal. you’re hardly even thinking.

“leave hickeys,” you moan. “please, wanna remember.”

he sucks love bites eagerly into the plushness of your breasts.

“oh,” he whispers, “need to feel you, please?”

when you’re both bare and you’re sinking down on him, your favorite steve comes out - chatty, pussy drunk, touchy steve. hands moving everywhere again, five new hickeys on your body. he talks to you in between each.

“pussy - this pussy is made for me, huh? like we’re meant to be. perfect fit.”

you wouldn’t exactly call it that. he’s so big you feel like you’re splitting open. the high soothes the pain, feeling fuzzy rather than sharp.

“uh-huh,” you say anyway.

“i’m gonna cum. gonna cum in this tight — shit — mmmph —“

“yes,” you gasp, hips rocking. you’re both moving slow even though everything feels like it’s moving fast. “yes, steve, feels so good when - i love it when you -“

you shudder. you can’t even get the words out.

“say it,” he grits. “quick, i’m close.”

your stomach flips violently, clit pulsing. his thumb lazily flicks against it.

“love it when you cum in me.”

he plants his feet and fucks into you, rough and sloppy, making you fold into him. you bury your head into his shoulder and wail.

“my best friend,” he grits. “fuckin’ love you.”

you press open mouthed kisses to his skin. “i love you. oh my god, i love you, please cum.”

his grunts and groans are pornographic, unloading into you, so warm. feels so good when you’re high - spreads the bliss through your body. you cum a moment later, just from the feeling of his balls pressed against your ass, his thumb still swiping.

but he doesn’t stop. you squeak, a little sore, a little overstimulated.

“steve -!”

“i know,” he groans, continuing to fuck you. he’s breathless, so goddamn hot with his messy hair and dark eyes. “i’m sorry, i can’t stop, y’feel so goddamn good i just - i can’t - need more, please?”

“okay,” you breathe.

he sighs. “my good girl.”

[maelstrom007]

@ghouljams the worms are worming. . . I was listening to Depeche Mode today and Personal Jesus reminded me of your cult leader Price AU and it just has a death grip in my brain. . . All I could think of the whole song was Price manspreading in a chair with Ghost, Soap, and Gaz posed around him in dramatic backlighting, doing his biding to keep his cult in check.

Price is obviously cult leader, we get it, we know it, he's so charismatic and clever and manipulative and influential we know we know we know.

Thinking of what the other boys roles would be in this whole thing though. . .

Gaz is definitely the person on the outside clocking discontented people and setting in hooks. Absolutely gorgeous man, charismatic as fuck, endearing and non-threatening (at first glance), such blinding loyalty that he is able to see and interact with the outside world and not be tempted to leave. This simultaneously makes him adjusted enough to 'normal' life that he gives off very little red flags when inviting people in. He's also the person who befriends the new follower and makes sure that they're only seeing what they're supposed to, and vetting if they'd be impressionable enough to add to the flock. Testing their resistance to peer pressure, vetting them and making sure they're impressionable enough.

Soap is the listening ear on the inside. His job is to ingratiate himself amongst the followers and report any findings to Price, both good and bad. So not only is he keeping an eye out for disloyalty, plans to leave, discontent, etc. but he's also looking out for personal things like lost personal possessions, low stakes concerns, anything that Price can use to give individuals 'personal' time with him that makes him seem attentive or even slightly omniscient to the more spiritual followers.

Ghost's job is really to be that of a smoke screen. He is very visibly Price's 'right hand man', outwardly intimidating and such a hard ass on rule following that he acts as a force pushing followers to the sphere of Gaz and Soap. Because they couldn't be that close to Price, right? No one but Ghost is. So surely they're safe talking about their doubts and confusion, as long as Ghost is out of earshot. I feel like he also makes Price more valuable by making him more unobtainable. Unless Price comes to you, you need to seek an audience with him through Ghost. And 99% of the time even if you do get to see Price, Ghost will be there. At least that's what people say anyway. Price definitely isn't telling everyone that he's 'made an exception just for them' and that 'this'll be a secret between the two of them'. Definitely not.

I have this notion that it would be one of those self sufficiency communes that has their own internal ecosystem, growing their own food, making their own clothes, etc etc. They would send the well behaved followers to set up a stall at the nearby towns farmers market to keep up appearances and make sure that nobody in the town really bothers them. Who gives a shit what the group of farmers in the middle of nowhere are doing when their produce costs next to nothing and tastes divine? Maybe they should go out there some time and see what it's like. . .maybe learn how to take care of a plant or two of their own? And you've always wanted to learn how to do pottery, the cute guy on the corner says they're hosting a class this weekend. . . . . . . . . .

[cybershock24601]

More post canon Rookanis thoughts today as I contemplate how weird their inclusion of Spite in their relationship would be to everyone. Even if Spite isn’t involved romantically they still try to make the guy feel included like they did when they ordered that extra cup of coffee on their little date in game.

Personally I feel like the Crows (especially Caterina and Illario for similar yet different reasons) would do their best to ignore the fact that Lucanis is an abomination now and has a little guy riding around shotgun at all times and that fiction works right up until Rook moves in with Lucanis and suddenly it’s a lot harder to ignore Spite.

Especially since I headcanon my watcher Rook has always been able to tell when Spite is talking even if she can’t hear what he’s saying. She’s sensitive enough to freaky fade stuff to hear something, though it took her a bit to figure out that something was Spite as his words sounds like muffled whispers from a room over where you can tell someone is talking but can’t at all make the words. So in the time between the games end and Rook moving in with Lucanis while she’s settling Watcher responsibilities and helping with the aftermath of everything that happened, she’s also working with Emmrich to hone her magical senses enough to hear Spite. It’s a good skill for a Watcher to have and it would probably be nice for Spite to be able to talk to someone else without having to highjack Lucanis’ vocal cords, also Rook’s a nosy bitch and doesn’t like not being able to hear what the third person in the room is saying because she knows Spite talks about her.

Anyways, now everyone can’t ignore Spite’s existence as rookanis set up a third place setting when sitting down for some afternoon tea and coffee and occasionally pause before replying to something no one else can hear. Or Rook suddenly giggling out of nowhere at something Spite says because she’s not nearly as good at not reacting to Spite’s unheard commentary. Creepiest of all is when someone walks into the room when Lucanis is taking the nap to find Rook and Spite playing card games together and it’s so unsettling for the people who have known Lucanis their whole life to see him with his eyes glowing and his face twisted into foreign expressions, not to mention how strange it is to hear another voice coming out of Lucanis’ mouth.

Caterina nominally ignores the whole thing but is probably looking into how to get Spite exorcised. Illario ends up in learning things about Lucanis that he never knew as Spite is more willing to air Lucanis’ grievances in their relationship which ends up giving Illario a new perspective on a lot of things in their past and possibly leads to Lucanis and Illario having a truly honest and emotionally open talk for the first time in their entire lives. Teia treats Spite cautiously at first but ends up viewing him like some sort carnival side show where yes Spite unnerves her but the little guys actually really funny, and unlike everyone else, it’s Spite that ignores Viago because his protectiveness over Lucanis has manifested in snubbing Viago in return for hurting Lucanis’ feelings all those years ago when he ignored Lucanis’ affections. Very funny if this is how Viago realizes the knife was actually Lucanis’ way of flirting and not some sort of indirect threat. Teia and Rook are absolutely cracking up while this happens due to the absurdity of the situation.