#its so frustrating i feel like everyone gets it wrong. we are never making it out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoonsluvr · 3 months ago

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CHERRY

박성훈 ꒰ park sunghoon ꒱ — genre; summer au, best friend’s older brother, forbidden romance, smut, a bit of fluff, angst ୨ৎ cw; p in v, unprotected sex, spit, choking, gagging, oral f.rec, mating press, edging MDNI. ⟡ synopsis; you never thought that an unexpected obsession formed during your trip to southern italy would teach you one life’s cruelest lessons — never fuck your bestfriend’s brother ୨ৎ wc; 4.8k — library ⭑.ᐟ

inspired by; cherry - lana del rey

isla yaps; hii, this is my first work so i’m a bit nervous!! lmk what you think of the layout and feedback in general is appreciated! :)

Was it wrong that you felt happy when your parents announced they wanted to take a vacation alone this year?

You sit opposite them at the dining table, your mom explaining herself for the hundredth time over. Clearly she felt guilty about it but you didn't mind. “You know its our anniversary during that time darling and I hope you understand that we love having you with us, of course we do, but 50th anniversaries are rather special and we’re booking a honeymoon resort.”

You feign a look of sadness to act like you’re listening but your mind is already elsewhere. It wasn’t that you didn’t like spending time with your parents, that wasn’t the problem at all, but now that a family vacation was out of the picture, joining Stella’s family in Italy was back in the conversation.

Soojin, or Stella as she liked to be called was your best friend, your ride or die. Years ago, when you moved to a new town, the Park family were your next door neighbours and you and Stella quickly became close, bonding over your hatred for the town and its people. You two had always felt suffocated in its environment, the way everyone knew everyone’s drama, everyone’s problems, everyone’s secrets. You promised each other that one day you would escape and explore the world together for that very reason.

You were over at her house so much that you were basically a part of the family. You had your thumbprint on their security system, the password to the garage door, and even your own designated chair at the dining table. Her mom used to jokingly call you two sisters, but honestly, that didn’t feel far off. You and Stella had grown up together, seen all of each other’s phases too. The cringe phase, the boy-obsessed phase, oh god- the emo phase, and yet your friendship was still going strong. From weekend sleepovers where you giggled and gossiped all night long to crying on each other’s shoulders after not feeling accepted in school, to smoking your first blunt together, you two had been through every whirlwind experience together. After all these years, you still struggled to express just how much admiration you held for her.

And now, it had come. This was the last summer you had left with her. In 3 months you were going to head North to New York City, to pursue a degree in arts while Stella would remain in your hometown. When you broke the news, you expected her to be angry at you because of the promise you made to travel together forever, but she simply smiled and told you she was proud of you and that she always knew you would make it far.

You felt a pit in your stomach thinking about being apart, you had never really imagined life without her, so imagine your relief and excitement when she proposed that you join her family on their vacation to Italy this summer. One last chance to have the time of your life with your best friend while you were both still young? No one could catch you dead saying no.

“Mom, please.” You beg, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from frustration. You sit across from her on the kitchen island, sipping on a mango smoothie as she prepped dinner for tonight. At this point, the conversation had been going on for far too long and both of you were running thin on patience. “I just don’t understand why you won’t let me go.” You huffed, used to getting your way.

Your mother sighs. “Sweetie, I’ve explained this to you. The Parks have done so much for you, your entire life! I just don’t want you to be a burden on them when they’re trying to have a family vacation. They're extremely sweet for offering but it’s a tough situation.”

“Ugh!” You exclaim and your mother shoots you a don’t-be-so-dramatic look. “They offered to have me! And besides, with you and daddy going to Mexico and Stella going to Italy, I’m going to be alone this summer. My last summer before college is going to be spent wasting away. It’ll be years before I see Stella again!” You pout, your eyes sparkling with hope as you see her expression soften, triumphant that you clearly struck a soft spot.

“We’ll see about it darling.” She sighs.

Even with her weary expression, all the tell-tale signs were there. She had been convinced. You stand up, satisfied as you go to text Stella the news.

And that’s how you find yourself going to the South of Italy for three weeks with the Parks: Stella, her mother and father, and her older brother Sunghoon.

Sunghoon had always been a little shy and introverted making him hard to talk to, your four year age gap not doing much to help create a relationship either. Despite that, Sunghoon had always tried being sweet to you. After many attempts of trying to talk to him over the years, you finally managed to break his shell the one time he rescued your prized possession, a teddy bear plush named Ben, from a tree branch. You still remember the warm hug he gave you when you cried over Ben’s stitching being torn and ever since that day, although you wouldn’t call yourself friends, the relationship shifted. It changed from nods of acknowledgement to smiles, from waves of greeting to hugs.

During your last years of middle school, you even developed a small crush on him but you never once told Stella, knowing she would have killed you. Once you turned fourteen, Sunghoon left to go for college and you hadn’t seen him since then. You had no idea what he was like now, his personality, his likes and dislikes, his interests. Honestly, the thought worried you a little. You just decided you would try sticking to Stella on the trip, hoping that things wouldn’t be awkward.

Only if you knew. Only if you knew what was about to happen, you never would’ve chosen to go on that godforsaken trip.

The last minute nature of your decision to join the vacation meant that tickets weren’t available on the same flight as the Parks, so you booked one for a flight that arrived in Italy just two days later. You didn’t mind however, you were just excited to spend time with Stella.

And so you arrive in the quaint beach town of Taormina, located on the shorelines of the island of Sicily. The drive from the airport to your location spans over rugged hills overlooking the Loian sea. You maintain small talk with the barely english speaking driver, chatting about what to do in town and what beaches to visit. A gasp leaves your mouth as the taxi comes to a halt outside a stunning Italian villa style Airbnb. You know the Parks aren’t exactly middle class, neither were you, but you weren’t expecting this much grandeur.

Cobblestone bricks line the pathway to the house, leaning up against the ivy covered walls. Heaps of colorful potted flowers are placed at the entrance and a wooden gazebo in the corner catches your eye. Stella is sitting in the gazebo, sipping tea. When she sees you, she jumps up in excitement and rushes over.

“You’re here!” She squeals and twirls you around as you both laugh excitedly. You hear claps of joy from the back as Shin-ah, Stella’s mom steps out of the front door, her husband, Ji-hun in close pursuit. You quickly wish the driver goodbye and thank him before hugging them both fondly.

“Gosh, we only just saw you a month ago and you’ve already become prettier!” Shin-ah exclaims, making you blush and immediately resort to your usual ‘humble’ deflections that you recited out like a poem whenever she complimented you.

You lean to the side, getting up onto your tip-toes to get a glimpse of the dark haired boy who just stepped out of the door. Sunghoon. His short black hair was now grown out into a mullet and he no longer held the smiley expression that his face once always used to carry. You glance at his arms, his thin tank top showing off his muscles, a striking difference to his previously scrawny build. He looks so different. He’s grown now and more confident, no longer the sweet, shy boy you used to crush on. Theres no doubt, Sunghoon Park has matured. He’s a man now. A fucking gorgeous man, that too.

Sunghoon murmurs a half-hearted greeting towards you, reminiscent of the way he used to speak to you before you two became comfortable. You’re not surprised-it had been years since you’d seen him. Traces of your previous dynamics were long gone by now. You return the soft greeting as Shin-ah ushers you into the house, Stella following behind, wheeling your luggage in.

“You must be hungry, come, we’ve already set the table.” And sure enough, the intricately carved wooden dining table was all set up with dishes, cutlery and a large pizza in the centre. Dinner with the Parks is comfortable as you go back and forth with them, discussing the trip’s itinerary, recent stories and more.

Shin-ah glances at Sunghoon before turning back to you. “So, you and Sunghoon haven’t seen each other in a while. He’s been asking what you’ve been up to.” It was horribly obvious that Sunghoon couldn’t care less about what you’d been up to. His mouth opens in annoyance at his mother’s words. “What? No I—" But he’s cut off by a sharp nudge from his father who scowls at him. Embarrassment pools inside of you and you laugh awkwardly before Shin-ah nods encouragingly for you to continue.

“Well uh— I’m going to NYU after this summer. I’m going to be studying art history and I’m hoping to get an internship with a local gallery this summer, after the trip of course. But yeah…” You trail off awkwardly as Sunghoon pretends to be interested. An awkward atmosphere settles over the table and you finish in silence.

After dinner, you head up to your room that you’ll be sharing with Stella. You’re sitting on the floor, unpacking your suitcase while she removes her makeup.

“Hey,” she turns to you, “I’m sorry about what happened with Hoon earlier. I don’t know why he’s acting like that.”

You wave it off. “No, don’t worry about it at all, it’s all good. I’m sure it’ll settle down in a while.”

She nods comfortingly but deep down you feel a little hurt. You knew that it wasn’t going to be the same but you didn’t expect him to be so cold.

After a few chaotic days of what felt like never-ending sightseeing and cold shoulders from Sunghoon, you finally collapse onto a picnic blanket out in the back-garden, your white sundress pooling around your knees. You roll over onto your stomach, kicking your legs into the air as you grab your book, the pages soft between your hands as you slowly flip through, trying to find where you left off. Pop. The sound of plastic popping as you open the box of glowing red cherries next to you. Your favorite.

You're a few pages in when a soft voice calls from behind you. “Hey.” You glance behind to see him standing there in a loose white shirt and khaki shorts, holding a book. He laughs softly as you scramble to straighten yourself. “No need for that, you can sit however you want.”

“No, no it's okay,” you shake your head, sitting up straight now, confused at his cheerful demeanour “what do you need?”

“I was wondering if I could join you,” he tilted his head, “you seem to be having fun.”

You squeeze internally. Something about Sunghoon was making you nervous right now but you plaster on a sweet smile nonetheless, “of course.”

You’re hyperaware of his every movement as he approaches and sits down next to you on the blanket. He holds up the book he had and it takes you a second to realise that both of you had gotten the same book to read, ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’. You smile at him, “that’s funny.”

“It is, isn’t it?” He hums. “How’s Ben doing?”

You laugh, the anxious feeling in your stomach fading a little. There’s no need to be nervous in the first place, it’s just Sunghoon. “He’s doing okay. No more accidents since the last.”

The two of you fall into silence. He coughs. "Listen... I uh— I didn't mean to act that way when you first came."

You nod almost immediately. "You don't have to explain yourself, I get it, it's fine."

"No, I was acting like a jerk for no reason. I mean- you know how I am with people at first and I hadn't seen you in a while, it just took me a while to get used to. That's not an excuse for how I acted though, I'm sorry."

You peer at him. "I get it, I figured that's the reason you were acting distant. It's okay. I'm glad we can be pause normal again." You both look at each other and for a second you feel him glance at your lips but his eyes move away so fast, it's impossible to tell. He smiles softly at you.

Your legs are crossed as you lounge lazily on a chair on the balcony, taking in the view of the salty sea, waves lapping against the rocks. Once again, a box of perfectly round Italian cherries lay on the table behind you. You couldn't seem to get enough of them.

“You must really like these.” Sunghoon murmurs from behind you, pointing at the box of the sweet fruit. You smile lazily at him, not surprised by his interruption. Somehow, he had been finding you in all sorts of odd places recently, almost as if he was looking for you from the second you disappeared from view. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Sunghoon thought you were pretty. You realised fairly quickly from the way his eyes flicked up and down whenever he saw you, resting on your tits for just a second more.

“They’re my favorite.” You nod, grabbing one and popping it into your mouth as he watches. Maybe it's the way he’s staring at you hungrily but a newfound confidence takes over you. You reach for another cherry but this time, you make sure to hold eye contact with him, looking up with big bambi eyes as your tongue swirls around the sweet fruit. You bite into it and the red juice dribbles down your chin, your eyes glinting. His finger instinctively reaches down, a millimetre away from your chin before you nod to give him permission.

He swipes at the juice on your chin, before pulling his finger back, licking it slowly. Your throat suddenly feels like it’s constricting. You should not be doing this— holy shit you should not be doing this. You stand abruptly, coughing slightly. He doesn’t react much but a slight smirk plays on his face. Pause. “I should go,” you stutter as you rush into the house, heart hammering in your chest.

You try your best to ignore him for the next few days because you had no idea what possessed you to do that. Your mind constantly replayed the moment. The way he stared at you. The way he touched you. The way he licked his finger. God you were so fucked. Every time you saw Stella, you couldn’t help but feel guilty but then you tried comforting yourself. It wasn’t like you had done anything wrong, nothing actually happened.

You didn’t even notice what you were doing at first, your actions seemingly innocent in your mind. You just wanted to make the most of the summer clothes you owned and the heat in Taormina was intense, right? But your skirts were growing shorter and shorter by the day, your bikinis became skimpier and skimpier. That, accompanied by the way you tucked your hair behind your ear when he came around, batted your eyelashes at him, knowing it made him crazy-you hadn’t even realised but that little incident between the two of you had made you develop a little obsession with Sunghoon Park, just like the one you had all those years ago. And you were desperate for his attention now.

Right from your shiny olive skin that glistened in the Italian sun to your long hair that swayed as you walked, Sunghoon Park knew you were gorgeous, even more so now that you were making it painfully obvious. He knew. He knew you were doing all of this entirely on purpose but that didn’t mask his staring as you lather on sunscreen, resting beside him in the sand in a floral pink bikini.

You know you have him.

"Hey can you help me with this?" You ask softly, holding out the bottle of sunscreen towards him. His jaw ticks but he takes the bottle from your hand.

"Actually," you smile sweetly, "on second thought, I think I'm done, what do you think?"

If looks could kill, you would strike dead at this very moment from the way he was looking at you. “What’s your game?”

You stare at him, not expecting him to say those words so soon. “What do you mean?” You pout, pretending to be oblivious, a little upset that you didn't get to have that much fun with him before he called you out.

He scoffs. “You know exactly what I mean. Don’t play dumb. You like teasing me and then pulling away at the last moment, don’t you?” When you don’t respond, his expression hardens. “You’re trying to win a game you don’t even know how to play.”

Before you get the chance to respond, the two of you are interrupted as Stella runs to you, laughing.

“Hey are you having fun?” Stella smiles down at you.

“I’m having a great time, thanks.”

She nods as she moves to sit down on the sand, between you and Sunghoon.

Theres a moment of silence before you speak. “Hey Stells, thank you for letting me come. I appreciate it a lot. I would’ve had a terrible summer without you and I’m just really glad we get to spend time together before … you know …”

She smiles at you again. A genuine smile. “I’m gonna miss you. A lot. And I know you’re worried but i’m not, because I know we’ll always be friends. We’ve been through everything together and stupid New York isn’t going to change that.” As she pulls you in for a hug, you feel a pang in your heart. You love your friend and the last thing you want is for her older brother to come between you. But you just can’t help yourself.

You glance up at Sunghoon who's watching you two hug with an emotion in his eyes that you can't quite place. He meets your eyes and you shut yours, unable to look at him any longer. You hold onto Stella tighter, suddenly feeling disgusted with yourself. You're sickening. Sickening and selfish.

Your phone screen shows 4:36AM and sleep wasn’t coming. You sit up, rubbing your eyes as you glance at Stella snoring beside you. You get out of bed slowly, the wood creaking beneath you. You desperately needed a walk to clear your mind. Stepping into your fuzzy slippers, you leave the room, entering the narrow corridor outside. Sunghoon’s door stands tall in front of your face, which you would have normally ignored, except today, streaks of light peek out of the crack at the bottom. Why is he awake?

You know you shouldn’t. You know you really shouldn’t but you do it anyways. You knock softly. A few moments pass and you think he might not come. Right as you’re about to leave, the door clicks open and he stands there in grey sweats, shirtless. You choke a little but he doesn’t notice, neither does he seem surprised to see you.

He looks you up and down and you realise what you’re wearing—a tiny pink lace-trim nightgown, barely covering anything. He’s smirking now. “Come in.”

“Uh I—“ You start to say as you begin to regret your decision but you’re cut off by his harsh tone, his smirk now faded, replaced with a hardened expression.

“That wasn't a question. Come. In.”

You swallow nervously as you follow him into the room and shut the door behind you. Sunghoon sits on the edge of the bed, motioning for you to stand in front of him. You do as he asks and now you're staring down at his face, your silky hair hanging loosely, brushing against his cheeks. He starts to grab harshly at your waist and you gasp slightly.

"You think this is funny huh? Playing all these games? Do you have any idea what you're doing at all?" When you don't respond he starts again. “What? Cat got your tongue? Are you all nervous now? Don't be, you started this after all."

You breathe out shakily, hands finding his neck. "Please—"

"Please what?" His smirk is back, he likes that he's finally the one in control. "Say you want me."

"God I want you, I do." You whine pathetically. And whatever little power you may have had over him was gone, he had claimed it back. His dark eyes glint sinisterly as he stands, picking you up by the waist and placing you down onto the bed. Your legs are raised, being held up by his hands as he presses kisses on your left ankle. He slowly makes his way down, nuzzling his nose into your inner thighs. His teeth lock onto your panties and you gasp as he drags them off, discarding them on the floor, leaving you exposed.

"Fuck you're beautiful."

He dives in again, his nose pressing against your clit as he laps harshly at your folds. You throw your head back, a jerk reaction to the sudden sensitivity. You cry out and feel him immediately stop what he was doing. You whine softly in annoyance. "Wow baby, it seems like you really want my sister to know I'm fucking you right now." You swallow harshly as his eyes shoot daggers at you. "Keep. Quiet."

He's looking at your pussy now. You wait, burning to see what he would do. And he spits on it. You gasp, biting your lip to stop the moan. He spits right on your pussy, using his fingers to spread his saliva around your messy area. He begins to lick up your folds again, pressing his tongue down on your clit.

You can't handle it. It's pathetic but you already feel a knot building up in your stomach. "Hoon— I'm going to—"

"Not yet," he spits out, coming up.

You moan weakly in protest but he doesn't seem to care. "You don't deserve to cum yet. You've not been a very good girl have you?" You shake your head.

His hands reach for his pants now, pulling them down in one quick move and you could see how painfully hard he is. Your eyes widen as he pulls out his cock. It was big. Too big. Bigger than you'd ever had before and you didn't know if you would be able to handle it. He laughs, looking at your expression. "Don't worry baby, we'll make it fit."

He pushes your legs up all the way and you were practically bent in half in front of him, your knees blurrily shifting in and out of your peripheral vision. He lines his cock up with your entrance and rubs the tip across your wet folds, groaning softly as his eyes shut. Without warning, he pushes it in and you shriek in surprise, causing him to shove his fingers into your throat. You're choking around his fingers now as he thrusts into you, quickening the pace. Tears stream down your face as you gag, you're close again, you can feel it, but so can he. Just as you're about to reach your high, he stops his motion again and you lean back into the bed, panting hard. You're desperate for release now but as you stare up at his fucked out face through your lashes, smirking down at you, you know he's not going to give you that release anytime soon.

So you go four more rounds. Four more rounds of chasing that desperate high that he pulls away from you at the last moment. You're fucked up now, sweating and panting, your hair splayed across your face as you cried and cried, begging him. The sun had risen now and it pooled in through the window, enveloping you in a warm glow, making your tan skin look golden.

"God baby, you look so fucking sexy right now." Sunghoon reaches an arm towards the desk nearby, where a small pile of digital cameras lay. Stella's digital cameras. The one's she had excitedly bought for the trip, wanting to capture every memory. He points the lens of one of them at you and you don't even have enough energy to protest. Click. And just like that, a picture of you in one of your most fucked up moments was captured forever. He tosses the camera aside, turning his attention back to you.

"You up for one more?"

Strings of gibberish come out from your mouth and he chuckles as he pushes into you once again. He thrusts in and out and you're moaning loudly this time but neither of you cared anymore. You're so sensitive at this point that it doesn't take long for that familiar feeling to arise again. This time, Sunghoon lets you have it. You let out a strangled moan as you feel your orgasm wash over you. Pure fucking euphoria. He collapses on top of you after cumming as well. You reach out, your hands tangling in his hair, stroking his face gently.

You realise you haven't kissed yet. You lean down, placing a gentle kiss on his pink lips. He kisses you back immediately but there is no lust behind it. "You're a goddess, you know that?" He speaks, muffled against your arm. You laugh this time, reaching for the camera next to you. Click. Another picture. But this one is much cuter, the two of you staring into the camera, laughing as your arms are wrapped around him. Click. And another. He's kissing you and you just want to stay in this moment forever.

The remainder of the vacation is spent stealing glances and kisses with Sunghoon as you two sneak away at random times together. You visited his room every night, sometimes it was sex and sometimes you just wanted to cuddle.

If there was one thing you were sure of by the end of the vacation, it's that you were madly, madly in love with him. And he was in love with you too.

1 month later

You step into your room, flopping onto the bed, exhausted from your shift at the gallery. You pull out your phone to texts from both Stella and Sunghoon. Sunghoon's reads 'see you tomorrow :)' while Stella had texted to cancel your bar plans for the night, wanting to hang out at home instead. You almost feel relieved, too tired to even think of going to the bar. Instead, you quickly change your clothes and head over to the house next door. Shin-ah opens the door and she's delighted to see you as ever.

After exchanging some small talk, you head upstairs to Stella's room, briefly glancing at Sunghoon's door.

"Hey Ste—“ You stop. She isn't there.

You look around, confused for a moment before realising she's sitting outside on the balcony.

"Hey, what's up?" You smile at her as you take the seat beside her.

She doesn't respond, staring straight ahead into the pink sky. She's holding an envelope, nothing too special, just a plain white envelope.

"Do you know what this is?" She speaks for the first time, holding the envelope up, still refusing to look at you.

Your eyebrows furrow. "No?"

She breathes out, finally turning to meet your eyes. You recoil slightly when you see the wild anger looking straight at you. She opens the envelope slowly, almost teasingly. "You know..." She trails, "I recently sent in the film from the trip to be developed."

Your stomach drops.

She knows.

The envelope is finally open and she pulls out three photos. The first one of you laid down on the bed, fucked out with his cock still inside you, then you and Sunghoon are hugging naked, then you're kissing.

You're going to throw up.

"Look at me." She speaks softly, gently, but her voice is full of venom.

You look up to meet her eyes but you just can't do it. Your world is spinning.

"I want you to go to New York," her voice drops to a whisper, "and never come back. I never want to see you again. I never want you to see my brother ever again. Do you understand?"

You're nodding now, pleading silently, tears streaming down your face but you know it's not going to do anything.

She takes your nod as a yes. "Good, then we're clear."

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megwritesriddles · 6 months ago

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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

all fandom masterlist | hp masterlist | read it on ao3

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︶︶⊹︶

hey you! want to get tagged in my work when it comes out? click here! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

xoxoxo

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books-and-omens · 2 years ago

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Heyyyyyy I’d really like to talk more about the ball, who’s with me.

Because for all its glitter, the ball is dark. No, seriously, it’s dark. It’s eerie, it’s disturbing, and the narrative doesn’t shy away from showing us just how much.

As in a classic fairytale, mortals are being spirited away into another realm to dance through the night. Here, however, we see exactly who is orchestrating the dance, and why.

And we empathize with him, but watching Aziraphale has never been so painful or so unsettling.

Nina arrives distraught and is immediately hit with the realization that she doesn’t feel distraught, even though she knows she should be feeling it. She confronts Aziraphale and he just tells her: oh yes! :) no long faces tonight! And she is disturbed throughout the ball, thinks she is losing her mind, questions and fights the enchantment… but from time to time, the enchantment still takes hold.

And just—

Aziraphale. Aziraphale, you do know that manipulating people is wrong, don’t you? You… do know that? And yes, of course, neither Crowley’s nor Aziraphale’s approach to morality is human. They are eldritch, they are otherworldly. It was Crowley who changed the paintball guns into real guns in S1, though of course, the humans still had choice in using them.

But the ball is still different.

We’ve never seen Aziraphale do anything quite so disturbing before, or go so obviously deep into his own delusion. There are moments during these scenes when even Crowley, permanently frustrated, is very nearly disturbed. (“Angel! What are you doing?” or “Making it rain is one thing, but a BALL?”)

I fully think that by that point in the story, Aziraphale is not all right. He is in an anxiety spiral, denying reality fiercely, obstinately, disastrously, not listening to any of Crowley’s hissed warnings. Yes, yes, he is giddy, he is in love. It’s so very important for him that everything go RIGHT this night, the night he gets to dance with Crowley. Is he even aware of everything he is conjuring up, of the enchantment he has woven? The humans who step through the doors of the bookshop change: their clothing, their mood, their speech patterns… By this point, is Aziraphale doing this consciously at all? Or is reality conforming to his expectations, forcing everyone into a replica of the nineteenth century while Aziraphale himself, distracted and smitten, works himself up to inviting Crowley to dance?

In the first few episodes, as fear and danger grow, as Aziraphale is faced with the danger specifically to Crowley (I don’t see why he would risk his existence for you, Shax tells him in the car), Aziraphale only denies reality all the more fiercely, only holds on to his plans tighter, only puts more force into them and exerts more control (really, rather like the archangels with their Great Plan).

And the ball, beautiful and otherworldly and eerie as it is, is also a dire warning.

In the morning, it will be Crowley, not Aziraphale, who will get told off for manipulating Nina and Maggie. Aziraphale won’t reflect on this. He won’t be forced to reflect, and Metatron will manipulate him in turn.

There is a plan to follow. The show must go on.

GOD the ball is so dark.

#good omens 2 #good omens

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eva-does-their-best · 10 months ago

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Going from "I'm not one of those trans people who do x or y" to "I am so one of those and I should have not judged them and I am glad that I got rid of the normative judgemental attitude I used to have".

Going from "I'm just a lesbian so liking trans men is wrong i don't want to deny their manhood" to "My sexuality is weird and that is fine, I like who I like despite the theoretical implications of it and I am not denying anyone's identity because I like them for who they are and respect them no matter what".

Going from "I'm just a regular binary she/her woman" to "I'm a girl and a woman but my dissociation and life experiences also make me feel impersonal so I can use it/its and I'm not weird for it, i wouldn't even be weird if I had no justification either, I can even use doll pronouns because I like them and they make me feel warm and happy and that is what matters".

Going from "Ok so these are all the labels with their very clear definitions and meanings and everything else is internet quirky stuff" to "I literally would not know how to explain what you are and I won't force you to explain it if you don't want, I don't need to understand it to accept you, you are valid and loved. If you instead want to explain it to me I'll do my best to learn and defend it whenever I can".

Going from "I am so sad, frustrated, angry and in pain because I will never be or look cis" to "I actually don't like the cis normative look, I don't want to cispass, I like trans beauty but specifically I like me beauty, the one where I am still myself but a more me version of myself. The world constantly told me what I should aspire to be and look like and like and I was brainwashed for so long but now I've broken free and am free to fully love myself and everyone else in this world who ever thought they were weird or ugly because my eyes find so much beauty in everything and everyone!"

Going from "Ew furries" to "I don't want to make fun of people who deviate from the norm because that is exactly what happens to me and we should all be together or else we are treating ourselves as exceptions and exceptions are easily revoked, I will learn to love everyone against a brain poisoned with conservativism and "normality". I like rats I should make a rat fursona or smth it would be so cute it'd so represent me :3".

Going from "I am useless, lazy, falling behind, a disappointment" to "I am physically and mentally disabled, there have never been accomodations for me in any aspect of my life and the intersectionalities of gender, sexuality, economical situation, etc. have made my life extremely difficult, I forgive myself for both failing and for blaming myself, I will seek help and advocate for myself to the best of my abilities and I will respect my limits in this world that was not made for people like me".

Learning is hard, changing is scary, but it's mostly just your brain being a conservative for the sake of commodity, safety and self-preservation, sometimes you need to fight your brain in a war of attrition but when you finally win you'll be so much happier.

I am so much happier now, my world is bigger and brighter and I see everyone and everything with a new, beautiful light. I look back on how I was and how I thought and how the world works and it all looks so much worse and grey, I am not going back there, this new mind is my home now.

And the best part is that I know I will keep learning more and changing more and the world and this life will keep getting better and better🥰.

#trans #queer #nonhuman #social rights #eva's random life posts

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zoe-oneesama · 7 months ago

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If its okay to ask what exactly is the issue with Chloe's writing in the show for you? The creators have stated multiple times "there will be no redemption, she's rotten to the core and she's gonna stay that way" and it seems like thats what you want from her. So where exactly do they fumble the bag for you?

Mostly the part where they wasted everyone's time.

They tried to play both sides - kept her as nasty and self centered as always and did nothing to change her, but also make multiple episodes where we're meant to feel sorry for her and the heroine is portrayed as In The Wrong for being too harsh on her. It was annoying.

Like, it was just...tonally confusing at the time. It's totally in character for her to "steal" a Miraculous and not give it back when the rightful owner demands it back, being a thief was never outside of Chloe's wheelhouse. So tell me why they had the heroes give her soft woobie eyes and make excuses for her on the grounds of "you just wanted Mommy to look at you" and frame it like that's correct??????

And then, AND THEN, after wasting everyone's goddamn time trying to pretend they were doing something deep with Chloe, they didn't just double down on her being a two-bit one dimensional mean girl and tried to pretend like they didn't devote multiple episodes to convincing the audience she was more than that, but they wrote her to be even more comically evil as if to drive the knife even deeper! You can't help but read into their motivations, it feels like they're doing it to target certain fans specifically. "Oh you liked Chloe and wanted her to be redeemed? What if we ANTI-REDEEMED HER?! And now she's somehow more evil than our abusive magical terrorist! BWAHAHAHA!" Like?????? The Fuck?????

There's a moment in Season 5's "Collusion" where Bustier brings up the gift Chloe got her at the end of "Zombizou", doing this speech about how she recognized that Chloe was just a fragile teenager looking for love and attention (the EXACT THING that Season 2 spent a multi-episode arc trying to convince their audience of) only for Chloe to snap back that Bustier is using her student's feelings to "blackmail" her in that moment and uses this as grounds to get the woman fired.

And I feel like that really encapsulates the frustration I have at specifically the staff behind Miraculous Ladybug when it comes to Chloe.

Here is Chloe mocking Bustier for reading into what happened in "Zombizou" and instead it feels like the viewer is being mocked. Everyone who thought they were going somewhere with Chloe, everyone who bought what they were selling, everyone who's time was fucking wasted, is being laughed at in this moment.

Look, I never bought into Chloe being redeemed, so my personal annoyance was this dilly-dallying through this random side quest that amounted to nothing, which is a constant in this damn show. But, and I know this might be hard for some to believe, I had deep deep sympathy and empathy for fans who really thought and really wanted for the Battle of the Queens Arc to amount to something. I am so, so angry for them, because every season finds a way to not only stab you all in the back but twist the knife.

So yeah, that's my "issue".

#nothing about Chloe's writing is clean it's a cluster fuck #like we get it writer's you don't like Chloe #maybe reserve some of that hatred for the shitpile of awful dads you've created seemingly by accident #ml salt #writing salt #ask zoe

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bernardsbendystraws · 1 month ago

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a brutally honest post from me to you.

to preface, I know this is a corner of social media where we fangirl and write fanfiction. i'm aware that these issues are not as severe as irl problems, but just because it's not that serious doesn't mean that a stress/frustration/sadness just goes away.

so yeah, i do know that these aren't the biggest issues that people are gonna face in life, but it's some i wanna talk about. if you don't wanna hear it, scroll. this is a judgement free space and i'll block anyone who disturbs that.

[ posts not doing well hurts. ]

when you're brand new, it kinda sucks. getting traction is hard. people like familiar names with familiar writing styles and layouts. they know what they're getting into.

its not because you're writing sucks, it's because you're different. maybe you have some weak points, but everyone has those at some point. so no, it's not you or your skills, it's because you're new and people like gravitate towards familiar things.

when you're not new, it can really suck. now you know you can get the readers, but sometimes that's almost worse. you'll feel like there's more pressure, that you'll never be able to top xyz. and it really hurts, especially if you make something that you're so proud of and it doesn't get as much traction as you hoped it would.

its not because it's bad. there's so many factors. sometimes it's because one of the triplets posted, maybe just an active period on tumblr where the algorithm is really in your favor, or maybe it was because the readers were sharing your work behind the scenes because they loved it so much.

it varies and it sucks. there's pressure to 'do better' but then you feel kinda stuck. you can't always do better, but you can always do your best.

either way, it's not truly your fault. there's so many factors that contribute to how well a post performs. your efforts are still something you should be proud of regardless.

[ friends ]

this is something i've really struggled with. it's really difficult. social ques are not my strong suit, I take things as they are presented to me. every friendship is different and not all of them are created equal.

some people want to be friends for interaction as a transaction. some people want to be your friend to make it seem like they have a place on sturniolo tumblr publicly. some people want to be friends to be your friend. there's a difference.

doesn't matter who you are, how many followers, or how many fics you have. not all intentions are genuine, even if they aren't necessarily bad.

[ dr*ma ]

i've been in dr*ma and i've also watched it. i've tried hard to avoid it but sometimes it is necessary to call out. when i was a smaller blog there were a lot of big blogs people loved that were straight up mean.

i can say confidently that i've never been mean to someone right off the bat for no other reason than thinking i was better than them. that has and will never happen because i know exactly what it feels like.

talk to a person in private first. i don't care what it is. ask them questions and have them give you direct answers. if it is something deeply concerning like a predator, that is an instance where it is important to speak up since it directly effects people on here.

it broke my heart when the juno / bri situation happened and i had dozens of minors dming me saying something happened but they were too scared to speak up.

i really hope that never happens again, but if it does, people need to feel safe enough to go to an adult on here. i'm happy i was that person for a lot of people because i needed a person like that when i was a kid.

put mdni on all you want, but please don't isolate minors when they are wanting to feel included. that's puts them at an even more vulnerable position and people know that. draw boundaries but keep all of this in mind.

i can and always will admit when i'm wrong even if i'm still hurt by the other person. apologizing isn't something that says 'oh this person is wrong, that person is right,' it's something that is required for basic human decency and respect. if i hurt someone, i want them to at least have the closure of having an apology.

i can't take back the actions or words, but i can validate their feelings and that's really important since we're all human and have feelings.

agree to disagree if you need to at the end of the day, but leave people alone. exposing people for things that aren't necessary is never gonna make you feel better.

interacting and creating genuine friendships will you give a lot more peace and joy then hate and conflict ever will.

point is, treat others how you want to be treated. we're all humans with feelings and coming here for an escape to fangirl and write. do things to make the community better. do things to make yourself happy and proud in the long term.

i appretiate anyone who has stayed to read this, truly. i don't know how much of a difference it will make but i don't care. i said what i said and i meant it. if this helps one person, that already makes it worth it in my eyes.

i love being apart of this community and i hope we can build it to something we're all proud of and wanting to be apart of at the end of the day.

with love and big tits, rose 🫶🏻

#·˚ ༘ ʚ rose toy 𖧧 #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic

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midnightloversmusic · 11 days ago

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Hey, I read your virgin James x reader. I really liked it and I was wondering if you would write the opposite?

Like reader who's has no experience and James offers to be their first time and its all super sweet and loving.

thank you for the request lovely :) cw: smut, loss of virginity

James Potter x Fem!Reader 1.1k words

----

"Love, this isn't going to work if you keep tensing up" James' voice is soft but his words are slightly exasperated,

"Sorry" slips out of your mouth as you move your hands to cover your eyes

James tsks, "nothin' to be sorry for angel, just don't want it to hurt for you" he says as his had runs comfortingly up and down your thigh.

he's currently between your spread legs, one hand holding onto himself at your entrance and the other trying to calm you down.

you take a deep breath

"we don't have to do this if you aren't ready-"

"I'm ready!" comes out of your mouth so fast it makes James chuckle. The truth is you wouldn't rather be doing this with anyone else. you know James will be gentle with you. He wouldn't hurt you, not on purpose, he wouldn't forgive himself.

He reaches his hand that was stroking your thigh to pull your hands from your face

"Would you stop hiding, please?"

you peer up at him and his expression is soft, loving almost in more than a friend way, which is just preposterous because he's only doing you a favor by taking your virginity. You had been talking to him about how frustrated you were, how everyone else talks to you about their sex life and you can't relate to them or give them any advise because you'd never experienced it.

James, sweet as always, listened to everything you were saying with his doe eyes practically dripping with sincerity.

You had admitted how you felt like something was wrong with you. Because why else would you not have done it already? James did not approve.

he shook his head and said a bunch of comforting words that all blurred together and were forgotten when he said "I could do it"

you thought he was joking at first.

But one look at his expression told you the opposite.

James had never gotten into details about his sex life with you before, but you always assumed that he was some sort of sex god, not that you thought about him having sex, okay maybe you thought about it once, okay so you thought about it more than you'd like to admit, which is why him asking you to have sex with him when he knows you are a virgin kind of turned your brain into mush.

You don't remember much after that, a quick conversation, tentative and soft touches, a slow kiss, a faster kiss, a very heated kiss, getting carried to the bedroom, him laying you down on your bed, slowly slipping out of your clothes in between kisses.

and now you're here.

breathe

He's still looking at you with that soft expression and it helps you calm down a bit it's just James.

you feel your muscles relax as your nerves lessen,

James beams "Atta girl"

he gives you a quick peck and resumes his previous position. As he lines himself up you distract yourself by running your eyes across his abs, memorizing every curve of muscle, every blemish on his skin, every mark, and then he slide in.

It's only the tip at first, but you still suck in a breath and close your eyes.

It doesn't hurt, but the feeling is still odd and new

You look up at James as he takes a shakey inhale and breathes out an "Okay?"

you nod your head and reach for his hand holding your thigh

"you can do a little more, I think I can take it"

James studies your face, when he shows no trace of hesitance he moves in a bit more

the stretch of him burns, but when he brings his hand down to your clit and starts to rub lazy circles the pleasure starts to outweigh the initial discomfort.

"You feel so lovely, you have no idea y/n" James lets out as his gaze is stuck on your pussy making you suddenly shy which is comical considering he's inside of you,

"James-"

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this, love. No idea how happy I am that I'm going to be the one to make you fall apart"

his finger speeds up its circles and he inches himself deeper into you, making you forget any response you had been building. Your strangled cry of his name is now pleading instead of shy

you watch as his abs twitch as he bottoms out and you are a mess.

"James please, please. Please. I need more- I need you to move, I-"

he shushes you and slowly moves his hips back, pulling out all the way to his tip before sliding back in and you are on cloud nine.

Both of you moans and whines blend together, he moves so he is practically laying on top of you.You wrap your legs around his back and he slides even deeper inside you. You steal a few kisses from him, they are messy and uncoordinated, the two of you lost in pleasure. As he continues you are just moaning into each others mouths.

Then the feelings start to overwhelm you, he fits perfectly inside you, he's so deep, his movements on your clit are dizzying. You feel like you're drowning, gasping for air. Your fingers reach his back and your nails dig in as a wave of pleasure rolls over you pulling both you and James under.

your head feels pleasantly fuzzy as you listen to James catch his breath on top of you.

"you did so well for me m'love" he mumbles into your neck as he kiss his way down your chest and back up to your face. he kisses your cheek, your chin, your head, nose, mouth, until you're lost in a dazey fit of giggles.

"I hope I lived up to any previous expectations?" James questions as he lifts his head and rests on his elbows to look down at you.

"Lived up to? James I'm not sure I even remember my expectations after that. I think you've ruined me for life, nothings ever going to even come close to that."

James snorts, "That was my evil plan"

"There is not an evil bone in your body, James"

he smiles at you, "You ready for me to pull out love?"

you hesitate a second,

"It shouldn't hurt, but it might be a bit uncomfortable"

you nod your head and he kisses your cheek before reaching down to guide himself out. He was right, it was slightly uncomfortable but not too bad.

you watch him slip the condom off and tie it before chucking it in the bin beside your bed. He then gets up and returns with a cloth to clean you up. His movements are tender and filled with love.

you really do believe you're fucked now, James Potter has quite literally ruined you for anyone else.

#james fleamont potter #james potter x you #james potter x reader #james potter #james potter smut #james potter fic #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #jamespotter #james potter fluff #james potter imagine

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linkcharacter · 7 months ago

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Oh I have so many thoughts on aroace Curly, I think it brings so much on the table when analyzing the game's story.

Amanormativity ties in with the reoccurring mentions of the nuclear family, from Wrong Organ making 1950s mock advert posters, to Swansea talking about how getting a wife and kids didn't bring him any fulfillment in life.

In the cake cutting nightmare sequence, where Jimmy talks with Dream Curly about the mediocre cake, Dream Curly begins to talk about how sometimes you can only get the subpar stuff in live. Sometimes he'll get promoted, buy a house, fall in love. But other times he'll just have some awful fucking cake with his friend.

I think there is that subtle implication that Jimmy does buy into Amanormativity, with him projecting his beliefs on Dream Curly that a platonic relationship is lesser then a romantic one. But we never see Curly suggesting that he wants such a thing in the pre-crash.

With Jimmy thinking that Curly has everything in life, except for the desire (although I think Jimmy would view it as Curly not having the skills for it) to get a romantic partner, he would heavily lean into getting the one thing that Curly couldn't get in life to one up him.

THATS EXACTLY WHAT IM THINKING!!! AMATONORMATIVITY BE DAMNED!!!!

Looking at Mouthwashing through an aroace lens is interesting

"Jimmy thinking that Curly has everything in life, except for the desire", well said, well said! And references to the nuclear family fit in very cleanly thematically for Mouthwashing.

Jimmy leaning into amatonormativity is a smart observation. Jim internalizes all the social norms and standards on what you have to do to have a normal and desirable life, who sees everything Curly has and what Jimmy wishes he had, and is offended that Curly isn't satisfied, that he has the "audacity" to be unhappy. Curly meanwhile only wishes for his life to be something he doesn't have to run from, because by all means, he has already reached a point where he should feel accomplished, but isn't. Curly doesn't want to be a freighter captain his whole life, he doesn't want to settle with his sustainable position, he just wants to be happy. Like Swansea who has reached the "ideal" outcome of his life, having a wife, kids and a good career, it will never feel as good as embracing all what society deems undesirable yet right for you.

Jimmy does imply to seeing himself as lesser as a friend, "fall in love" being a goal and a "cake with a friend" being something he "has to settle for", it's all in the subtleties with underlying themes of "what you're "supposed to want" by society's expectations" against "what feels right for you". Jimmy is frustrated that Curly is going to "leave the dirt behind him", when in actuality, letting the crew and him go is the last thing Curly wants. Curly wants to be with his friends, he deeply cares about his crew, and about his close friend.

Mouthwashing as a whole reads to me as platonic through and through. Swansea and Daisuke having such a meaningful familial bond, Curly and Anya being sweet, playful and caring without romance, Anya and Daisuke having something of a siblings dynamic are dear to me. Also it's really rare to get to see representations of "toxic friendship" in media. Its always toxic romance this, toxic yaoi that, toxic family there, however in reality, friendships aren't excluded from being as rotten and abusive as the others, yet they're often overlooked. Jim and Curly are especially unique in this way. It's very impressive how they managed to showcase Jimmy's mistreatment of Curly in such a platonic way (at least that how I read it). Jim too, like Curly, in general avoids hints at romance and attraction explicitly related to him during his gameplay, not with Curly, nor with Anya (dear god thanks for that at least). It's all spite, annoyance and parasitizing off of these two. (That man's dry and lowkey hates everyone and everything) No attraction attached, no desires except hoping it hurts.

Curly to me is very much aroace, or at least on the spectrum. Like, the trivia fact that one of Curly's fondest memories is that of his friends putting in effort to make a shitty awful cake, tells us all we need to know on how dear his friends are to him. Platonic relationships mean so much to Curly, even when it's Jimmy fucking Mouthwashing, the worst friend ever imaginable.

#apologies I'm gonna rant a bit too #amatonormativity runs rampant within this fandom as well it seems tho #looking at you jimcurlers who think #“there's no way Curly and Jimmy were ”JUST“ friends there has to be something ”MORE“ to their relationship”#“because obviously two guys can't be close and toxic and NOT be having say gex with each other”#on the other side there's people who undermine or dismiss their friendship entirely #on this note I wanna say that as long as the ship isn't romanticizing abuse and consent is present it's not that much of a crime #and harassment of real people is worse than questionable fictional saygex #i just think it's heavyy mischaracterization of at least one of them #like swinging and missing the mark #I'm saying this to curlya enjoyers too despite me being one #they care for each other they're playful they're teasing #but they don't have to be in a romantic relationship to be just as friendly or doomed #but i don't get to judge on which is the correct way to enjoy characters #I love these characters #hooollyy yapp #would you guys also hear me out on demiromantic demisexual anya #mouthwashing #curly mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #asks

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beautifulmadnesss · 2 months ago

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"I Don't Ever Wanna Know What it Feels Like to Be a Shadow of Myself" Garrick Tavis x Riorson!Reader

Summary: Xaden's sister doesn't like Violet until they are both captured and interrogated by Varrish.

A/N: This has become a mini series, but can also be read as a standalone.

Part 1 Part 2

Also 5.5k and lots of angst. Hope you enjoy!

Violet had apparently been researching how to raise the wards in Aretia and now we were making plans to break into the Archives. It was completely insane and had far more chance of failing than success. Everyone else seemed to think this was completely fine.

I could tell Xaden was at least a little reluctant. He trusted Violet, but not Aaric, who was vital to Violet’s plan and apparently actually the prince in disguise. I agreed with him, at least on the latter. I still wasn't confident that Violet was going to keep our secret, especially after she told her entire squad, which was far too many people who knew. She could’ve gone to her mom last year after Resson, but she was also the reason we were even there in the first place.

"There are so many things that can go wrong with this plan. She really doesn't have any clue where the journal is, what it looks like, or what protections are around it. We are risking everything for this plan just on her word" I have really tried to like her, but every time I looked at her I see not only the striking resemblance to the woman who spent hours carving into my brothers back, but also the reminder that it was her inability to control her mind that got Liam killed. No matter how many times Xaden said it wasn't her fault that doesn’t change the fact that if he never told her about the supply drops, then Liam would still be here. I couldn’t understand how he could possibly trust her after everything. I wanted him to see the version of her I saw. I knew it was wrong and I honestly knew it wasn't going to work, but I pushed anyway. Using my second signet I tried to force the thought of distrust into his head. The impact was almost immediate, his shields slammed up so hard I physically stumbled. He was expecting it, damn his signet.

"Knock it the fuck off." He growled, rounding on me and towering over me. Bodhi was the only other person that knew the double meaning behind that and he glanced between us anxiously. We’ve been at each other’s throats constantly and I knew it was frustrating for him. "This is Violet's plan and it's the best we have, so shut up and do what you're told." His condescending tone set my teeth on edge and made me feel like a scolded child. Fire sparked momentarily in my hands before Bodhi cut it off, stepping between us.

"You're both right. It's not without its risks. We all decide if we want to do this. Anyone who doesn't want to go down there and risk dying can stay. Even if we do this and we get out, if someone catches us we're dead." Violet spoke up, unease filling her tone. I have to at least give her credit, she was far more humble than anyone else in this room.

"I'm in," her best friend, Rhiannon said first.

"Oh you know I'm in!" Ridoc agreed as well.

"We stick together." Sawyer added. One by one everyone affirmed their decision to go for these journals that were the key to our survival.

"I'll follow you anywhere." Xaden declared before immediately turning his gaze to me expectantly. Last time he was here on leave, after RSC, he was soft and gentle. For the first time since reuniting I felt like his little sister again, just like I had imagined it would be like being together again after five years. He saw Violet on the parapet before I made it across and she had changed him. I later learned about the deal he made with her mother, Violet’s safety in exchange for our chance to redeem ourselves in the Rider’s Quadrant, but that didn’t stop me from hating her. He had to keep her safe or we were all dead, but sometimes it felt like him taking care of her had replaced how he used to take care of me when we were kids. I didn’t really need him to, but after being on my own for years feeling like an outsider and always being on guard, I craved the safety of my big brother. Growing up it was always the four of us. We had our own little club that we didn't let anyone into, except Liam when he was around. I was strong and important, but then Violet came in and changed everything. It was stupid and childish that I was jealous of her, especially considering I was now dating Xaden's best friend and he was definitely still pissed about that. He was getting tired of how I constantly challenged her and it had put more than a little distance between us, something I hated more than anything. Not to mention the additional danger she was posing for both of them this year by constantly pushing against Varrish. The most infuriating part was that I still had to help protect her, because no matter how much I hated her, if she dies, he dies.

"Fine." It was the best I could offer. I could see in Xaden's face it wasn't enough, but he didn't say anything.

Violet and Jesinia made a plan of what roles we each played and that was when my little resolve I had to keep a lid on my emotions broke.

"I'm on guard duty with babysitters? I can help and you know it." The demand was directed more at Xaden. The look he leveled at me told me how much he just wished I would go along with the plan as if he was the most agreeable person on the continent.

"I'm not letting you screw everything up by setting fire to the Archives." He was slightly taller than Bodhi, so he was able to glare at me over his shoulder.

"And you said my brother was the asshole." Aaric chimed in.

"Perhaps they aren't all that different." I didn't mean it, not really, but I said it before I could stop myself.

"Either shut fuck up or go back to your room. You're acting like a child and I don't have time for it. Violet is the one who is actually helping us accomplish the mission so she makes the plan." He towered over me, shadows swirling around my legs and his voice seething with anger that matched my own. The assertion that the daughter of our enemy was doing more to help my home than I was sent me over the edge.

"I fucking hate you." I had never said those words to Xaden other than during stupid sibling spats. We didn't fight like this, but the pressure over following in our dad's footsteps and the tension between us was too much. We didn’t really get the opportunity to talk about everything that happened and now all of his leave time was spent with Violet.

Bodhi pushed me back, trying to put distance between us. "We have to go now. You two need to cool it." It was silent for a minute until Violet continued with the final assignments as her friend Jesinia handed out Scribe robes to all of us. My rage continued to simmer as I silently dressed in the robes I was given.

I didn't speak again until after Bodhi, Ridoc, and I had taken our position as guards.

"So, the whole brooding anger and insanely hot physique is a family trait?" Ridoc inquired, breaking the silence with his usual brand of humor.

"Did you always plan to be Violet's court jester or did you have higher aspirations?" I shot back.

"I'm going to take that as a yes." He replied with a chuckle.

"You two should really talk." Bodhi interrupted before I could reply to Ridoc. He was looking at me imploringly and I know the constant tension between Xaden and I had drained him.

"He's too busy with Violet and he probably doesn't want to talk anyways." I also didn’t want to talk because I was tired of the fighting too. I was scared and stressed and exhausted, but it felt like all of my emotions funneled into anger.

"No, he does but you're both so damn stubborn that you're just going to keep tearing each other down. I'm tired of it. We are at fucking war and we could all die at any minute. We almost did. Liam did. So the both of you need to stop being idiots and start acting like you're a family." He couldn't yell, since that would defeat the whole point of a secret mission, but I heard him loud and clear. “You should give Violet a chance. She is going to be around no matter what, so you might as well find some way to give her the opportunity to show you she isn’t her mom. Resson wasn’t her fault either.”

"Okay, I'll talk to him tomorrow before he leaves." I could see it wasn't enough for Bodhi. "You're right, okay. I'll talk to him, I promise."

"Who doesn't love a happy ending?" Ridoc chimed in, successfully made both Bodhi and I laugh.

"I could use a happy ending right about now." I sighed.

"Gross." Bodhi fake gagged.

"After we get out of here, you are more than welcome to join me in my room." Ridoc smirked over at me.

"Sorry, you're not my type."

"Because I'm not a brick wall of tattooed muscle or is your type limited to one specific man who isn't here."

"Both." I replied, returning his smile. I did really miss Garrick. The letters weren't the same and I couldn't even tell him half the things I wanted to. Most of his letters to me came with more black lines than words. The separation from him only made the feeling of isolation even worse, especially while I was fighting with Xaden.

"Well you're both gross and we're almost out of time, so get ready." Bodhi's remark got us all to stand at attention. Our silence was tense as we all stood, waiting for them to come out. The bells began to toll and there was still no sign. “I’m sure they’re fine.” His voice lacked any of the reassurance he was trying to convey.

“Fuck, they’re not going to make it.” Ridoc said, just before they all came barreling out.

“Everyone to your places, now.” Xaden commanded, cutting off any questions we wanted to ask. Our talk was going to have to wait a bit longer.

After the small detour to be seen in the commons with Ridoc and Bodhi, I quickly backtracked to catch up to Violet and Xaden. The entire way back I was trying to come up with a sufficient apology, but none sounded right. I knew the best real way to show him I was sorry was to make more of an effort with Violet. I don't really trust her and I don't even really like her, but I also hadn't tried to do anything other than find reasons to hate her.

My heart sank when I saw her alone. "He left?" There was no hiding the disappointment in my voice.

"Yeah, he has to get the journal back for Brennan to translate." She said cautiously. I could tell she didn’t really want to be alone with me, she even seemed a little scared. I really have a lot of making up to do.

"Oh, right. We should go then." I turned to walk back to the dorms with her when a voice interrupted us.

"Violet?" It was Nolan, her mender friend, but I only slightly relaxed, still keeping my hand near my dagger. She may know him well enough to trust him, but I didn't.

She greeted him warmly and I could only hope he didn't hear the nerves dancing at the edge of her tone.

"Cadet Riorson," I gave a polite nod. "I know you've been under a lot of stress lately so I brought this for you." Normally, my total distrust of anyone in leadership here would keep me from drinking with Violet, but given what was sitting in her bag I decided it was best not to push it. We had to be as discreet as possible and get out of here quickly. I took the mug from Nolan and drank, feeling surprisingly comforted by the feel of the warm liquid.

"I hardly ever see you apart from Lieutenant Riorson on Saturdays. Where is he?" Something about his tone caused me to glance at him suspiciously. Then when Jack Barlow and his friends appeared, I stepped closer to Violet. He may have just saved her life, but there was no way he didn't hate her. He was probably plotting her death and while I hadn’t warmed up to her yet, I wasn’t letting that happen.

"Is everything alright? Nolan asked her, his eyes also following Jack as he crossed into the opposite wing.

"It's fine." She replied, taking another sip of her drink and I followed. When I moved the cup down I saw her staring into the mug with her brows knitted in confusion.

"Violet?" I questioned wearily, but I felt it too. Fuck. Nolan was staring at her bag. He knew. I didn’t have any time to think, I just reacted, forcing my breathing to slow and mentally reaching for the man in front of me.

Revealing my second signet to anyone was likely a death sentence, but if we didn't get out of this we were dead anyways, so I had to try. I concentrated hard, focusing on the vision of him walking away and back to the Healers Quadrant. I stumbled slightly as my balance gave. He was talking to Violet, but his voice was hazy, so I couldn’t really hear him. I pushed harder and his words cut off, his attention turning to me. Fuck, this was it. He knows and now there's no going back. The connection into his mind swam in and out of focus. I reached, trying to pull more power from my dragon, but the thread snapped. I was cut off. I stumbled again, but this time my legs gave out and it was all I could do to throw my arm out to keep my head from hitting the stone.

The pain in my head was overwhelming and the very first thing I became aware of when I woke up. Maybe it was whatever they drugged us with or from pushing myself too hard trying to stop Nolan. I tried reaching out to my dragon and felt the empty response, which means no fire and no mind manipulation. Several voices come into focus and my body immediately jolts to attention at the sound of the two most identifiable, Violet and Varrish.

I opened my eyes and immediately noticed I was bound to a chair directly across from Violet who thankfully looked mostly unharmed. The room around us filled me with dread. Blood was caked on the walls and floor. We were unarmed and bound in a torture chamber. This wasn’t like RSC, this was a torture chamber built for real world interrogations.

Mallory. The memory of RSC and the vicious murder of my squadmate slammed into the forefront of my mind. I forced myself to push it down before the panic became overwhelming. If I dwelled on it now Violet would meet the same fate and I was not letting that happen.

"Glad to have you join us Cadet Riorson." Varrish sneers at me.

"Fuck you." I spit at him, but this time he doesn't go for me. It's Violet he backhands at full force. I grit my teeth. I can't do anything, but watch. If he knows it's getting to me, he's going to keep pushing. This is one hell of a way for Violet and I to mend our relationship.

"One of you will tell me how you got this journal and who it was that helped you. I have an entire week to get it out of you and I will do so by any means necessary." He moved behind her so that I had a completely unobstructed view as he broke her fingers one by one. She screamed in agony and I fought hard against the binds on my wrists and ankles. The chair had no give, meaning it was bolted to the ground.

"Leave her alone!" I screamed.

"Tell me." He demanded, but I didn't respond. I couldn't. "Very well." He continued to snap her bones. The overwhelming feeling of helplessness brought tears of frustration to my eyes. I couldn't tell him. It would risk my brother, Bodhi, Imogen, Garrick, and everyone else in Aretia. After a while, the temptation to tell set in. I couldn't watch Violet get tortured like this. Xaden already hates me, he's never going to speak to me again after he finds out I let this happen to her. I had to find a way to get his attention.

"You don't want to ask how an intinsic survived right under your nose?" The response was immediate. Violet crumpled to the floor as he let her go. Her broken arm hit the ground first causing her to moan in pain and my stomach to turn as I saw the bone press against her skin.

"Yes, Nolan did tell me that he suspected you were an intinsic after you tried to stop him a few nights ago." Fuck, had it really been that long. The hunger and thirst that dominated my senses told me that wasn't hard to believe.

My breathing sped up as he prowled closer to me. "You could let me show you."

"While I applaud your efforts to have your power returned to you, that is a rather weak attempt." He came to stand behind me. "I'm more interested in how it works. That much you can explain to me. I'm sure Cadet Sorrengail would appreciate the reprieve."

"Don't." Violet's voice was raw and she couldn't move. This was the only piece of leverage I had.

"I can manipulate people's minds. Force thoughts into their heads and make them do what I want." If we ever made it out of here alive, I was signing myself over to be a weapon.

"Interesting. When did this signet manifest?" The glint in his eyes let me know that he was fully invested in all I had to say. It was over, no matter if we made it out of this room or not, he was going to do whatever he had to do to mold me into a weapon for Navarre. Violet had to get out of here alive, then I would be alone and I would die before he broke me.

"A few weeks after the fire manifested." I was giving as little information as possible. I knew I was fucked either way, but at least this way I can prolong it and keep him away from Violet.

"You've kept it hidden this whole time?" I nodded. "Who else knows?"

"No one." I couldn’t help but glance at Nora, the truth sayer, standing in the corner.

"Lie." She responded immediately and Varrish struck me.

"I suppose I should have expected you to lie about this. You isolate yourself because you're so afraid of the ones you love getting hurt. You're petrified of being alone. Shocking for the daughter of the famous Great Betrayer to be so weak." It was my turn to take blow after blow. Violet’s protests went completely ignored. "You've hid this long enough we cannot kill you simply for being an intinsic, but I can break you and you will become quite the weapon for General Melgren." It felt like hours. My entire body was in agonizing pain. The worst was when he pinned my leg to the ground at an awkward angle and stepped on it over and over again until it snapped, even then, he twisted and pushed on it. He didn't even pause as Nolan came in to mend Violet. She was still weak with dehydration and huger, but her body being mended gave her the strength to talk back. Varrish didn't relent. He knew she wasn't going to tell him about what we had done. I knew that as long as his attention was focused on me, she was safe. Xaden would come for her, I just had to buy time. "You girls have a few more days before Lieutenant Riorson violates his leave to come to search for you. Then, perhaps he will tell me what I wish to know." He let the threat hang in the air as he left. Fuck. He was smart and I fucking hated him for it. Xaden would fall for this trap without hesitation. He said it himself, he would follow her anywhere.

"Violet, I'm sorry." I said after a while. "I'm so sorry. I-" Breathing hurt. Forcing air through my broken ribs was agonizing, but I had to tell her.

"It's okay." She replied softly.

"No, it's not. You're the best thing that ever happened to Xaden. I've been jealous and I judged you for what your mom did. Which isn't fair when you've never once judged me for what my father did." I tried to shift in the chair, but caught sight of the bone protruding from my leg. My stomach rolled as I forced myself to look away. "Please forgive me." There was more I wanted to say, but I felt so weak and my brain was so hazy.

"Of course. If we survive this, maybe we can be friends. Have a sleepover." The laughter quickly fell into coughs for the both of us.

"No boys allowed." I smiled at her, genuinely. Everything I thought about her was wrong and I feel horrible that it took torture for me to see it, but I could only hope that she would keep Xaden happy. I now know I can trust her with my home and my people.

We didn't speak again. Varrish and Nolan were a revolving door. They mended and beat Violet over and over again. Nolan never mended me. Occasionally Varrish would turn his attention on me, that was the closest Violet came to breaking. The pain was never ending, but we both held strong. We could survive this. Xaden wouldn’t be alone, he would have Garrick and Bodhi at least. If it came down to it, I would make sure they got Violet out. I owed her and Xaden that much at least.

My right eye was the only one that would open anymore and even that was a struggle. I forced it open at the sound of a familiar voice, but not the one I wanted to hear.

Violet immediately started to struggle. We both knew what was coming and without shields he would get everything.

He had the decency to look shocked at her appearance, his eyes only momentarily drifting over to me. Varrish continued to impress upon him the importance of getting Violet's memories. We were traitors and the entirety of Navarre was in danger from us. Ironic coming from him, but I kept my mouth shut.

“They’ve requested all leadership to assemble immediately.” Nora interrupted, urgency clear in her voice. Xaden and Garrick, it had to be them. We just had to hold out a little longer.

“Help me, please.” She begged Dain and I knew it killed her to do it. His face was taut with tension and I knew that it was useless. All I could do was watch as he placed his fingers on her temples, both their eyes closed in concentration.

After a few moments he pulled back with a gasp. “You’ve been smuggling our weapons to aid another kingdom.”

Fuck. It was over. He had seen everything.

“Violet, it’s not your fault.” I said, trying to offer some reassurance.

“They need all of us now.” The woman interrupted again, but Varrish wasn’t listening. He stepped on my leg and I screamed as the pain ricocheted through my joints.

“Please, Dain!” Violet begged but he kept his face devoid of emotion.

“Let me see the dagger so I can compare it to the one in her memories.” He asked Varrish, who complied after warning him not to kill Violet.

My world swam in front of me, but I tried hard to stay focused on what was happening in front of me. Dain placed the dagger against Violet’s throat. Muttering to her about trust. He was really going to kill her.

“No! You fucking asshole!” I screamed and fought against the chair with every ounce of energy I had. The pain was blinding but if I didn’t do something, anything, Violet would bleed out in front of me, just like Liam and just like Mallory. I couldn’t let that happen. The woman was calling more urgently for Varrish and I reached for my power I already knew wasn’t there. They had ensured we continued to drink the mixture that severed the connection. “Violet!” I was hysterical, but my efforts were useless.

I heard the squelch of knife of flesh and I panicked. “No! Violet!” The shock clouded the vision in front of me. Varrish was the one bleeding, not Violet and Dain was cutting her free. She wasn’t dead. She’s fine. Dain was cutting her free. “What?” I asked, voicing my complete confusion as to what just happened.

“I don’t know if we can fight our way out of here, but if you don’t move we’re dead.” He moved toward me and I flinched out of instinct, but all he did was cut away the binds. I could see the emotions written so plainly on his face, he never knew about any of it. His father had lied to him just as much as he lied to everyone else.

“I can’t.” I looked down at my leg. “Take her.” I implored him. Varrish wasn’t dead, but he was slumped against the wall. They had time to get out. “Neither of us can walk and you have seconds to get out, so take her.” He nodded, handing me the dagger and moving forward to help Violet. He lifted her up and pulled her arm around his neck to help her walk.

“No, we aren’t leaving her.” She tried to protest, but she was cut off by the woman, Nora, blocking the doorway.

“Move and I’ll let you live.” Dain promised, offering the bitch a mercy she definitely didn’t deserve.

Violet was leaning against his back but her gaze was locked on mine. I gave her a weak smile. I had a dagger and I was no longer bound to a chair. That was something.

“I make no such promises.” She was dead before I could fully register that he was really here. Xaden was here. Violet was safe, he would make sure of that.

My eyes felt so heavy. I don’t know that I had slept at all since we were captured, just when I passed out from the pain. I tried everything to keep watch over Violet and I did, I kept her alive. Now, she was safe and I could rest.

“Hey, hey. Open your eyes, babe. Please.” Gods I never thought I’d hear his voice again. His hands were on my face and I immediately felt the tears well up.

“Garrick.” I melted against the feel of his hands on my cheeks. Safe. I was safe. Even if I died now, at least I wasn’t scared and alone.

“Hey beautiful. If you miss me that much, just ask next time. I can be wherever you are in seconds.” I laughed and opened my eyes to see him staring at me with unyielding intensity. There was no trace of laughter in his face as he watched me, his eyes taking stock of the injuries he could see. His jaw clenched and his fingers tightened as if I was going to disappear.

“That bad?” I knew the answer. As far as I knew, we had been here for five days and I couldn’t even guess how many cuts, bruises, and broken bones I was suffering from. My leg was by far the worst of it though. The heat radiating from the open wound was definitely indicative of an infection.

“Here.” It was Dain. He stood next to Garrick with bandages and a splint. “It’s not enough, but you can stabilize her leg.”

“I’ll do it. Garrick, I need to know the path is clear when we move. Aetos don’t make me kill you. Help Violet.” Xaden knelt down in front of me while the other two did as he asked, Garrick more reluctantly than Dain. He gripped the sides of my face and kissed the top of my head hard before leaving.

“I’m sorry. I-“ I wanted to apologize for everything but my throat felt like sandpaper. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect her.” I couldn’t get out enough words to say everything I wanted, but I hoped he could see my sincerity. “I was awful to both of you. Xaden, but you didn’t deserve it and neither did she. I tried to keep her safe, I promise.”

“Were you going to sacrifice yourself to get her out?” His voice was tight with emotions I hadn’t heard from him in 6 years. I nodded. “Don’t ever do anything so stupid again.”

“You love her.”

“I love you too. You’re my sister. I can’t lose you.” He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead, something so out of character for him that I didn’t notice his subtle movements as he used his shadows to reset the break in my leg. I screamed so loud, I barely heard his whispered apology. He worked fast, wrapping the splint and securing it to my leg. It was messy but as he pulled me to stand I could at least hold myself up a little. I still had to put nearly all of my weight on him, but I could manage.

“Aetos, you know everything now. If you’re going to follow, fucking follow.” That was more like Xaden, though the fact that he was trusting Dain to carry Violet was still confusing.

“Xaden, we have a problem!” Garrick called from the top of the steps.

“What kind of problem?” Every step hurt like hell, but it was either push forward or stay in that dungeon forever. I kept pushing, knowing I was getting closer to Garrick.

“A general sized one.” We rounded the corner to find him with a sword to his throat, General Sorrengail stood above him.

I surged forward ignoring the new sparks of pain, but Xaden held me back, something that wasn’t exactly a difficult task, but I fought as hard as I could.

“Who’d you kill?” She asked, her eyes flickering between Xaden and her daughter who was just behind us in Dain’s arms.

“Everyone.” His answer was clearly what she wanted because she immediately dropped the blade. This time Xaden let me go when I half stepped, half fell into Garrick's arms. I was vaguely aware of the conversation happening around us, but all I could focus on was his arms around me, holding me up. We both clung to each other without a word. His fingers threaded through my hair, pulling me close. I felt so weak and I was still disconnected from both my dragon and my power, but I was safe with him. I breathed in the smell of him, letting it overpower the smells that had dominated my senses for the past several days. The damp smell of the stone and the sharp smell of blood. Our blood.

“We have to give people the choice.” Violet begged. My attention returned to the conversation. “Tell them the truth and let them decide.”

“Violet, they're not just going to leave everything because you tell them the truth.” Xaden reasoned.

“No, she’s right.” I said, feeling more confident now that I was safe.

“Clearly you’ll need to be mended when we get home.” Xaden remarked, glancing at me in mock concern.

“Look, do you want me to trust people or not?” I challenged.

“Well, there’s a middle ground between asking you to trust my girlfriend and revealing our secret rebellion to the entire quadrant.”

“Right, because you both are famously known for your pragmatism.” Garrick chimed in.

“I thought we agreed you weren’t going to take her side all the time just because you’re together now?” Xaden turned to him with a genuine look of betrayal.

“Oh you’re right, sorry, didn’t mean to make you jealous, babe.” He leaned forward teasingly as if he were going to kiss him until shadows shoved him back. I felt some of the tension lift, as I felt the laughter rumble in his chest.

“Fuck off. Look, we’re running out of time. I trust you.” He told Violet and she looked at Dain expectantly. What an odd group we were.

“I guess my last official act as wingleader will be to call a formation.” He resigned.

Less than an hour later we were mounted on our dragons and flying toward Aretia with more dragons and riders than I ever could’ve imagined. Home, we were really going home.

Yes, little one. You did it.

The feeling of being reconnected to my dragon and my power again was enough to give me the strength, with the help of my brother's shadows, to drag myself up onto the seat. I smiled as I let sleep pull me under.

Part 4? Other requests? Let me know!

#imagine #empyrean imagine #fourth wing #fourth wing imagine #fourth wing x reader #riorson!reader #the empyrean #garrick tavis x reader #garrick x reader #garrick tavis

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w1zxrd · 15 days ago

Text

The Stranger Things writers want byler shippers to feel like Joyce Byers.

(i'm aware this is a long read, but it's worth it i promise! 💔)

- "Joyce, 99 out of 100 times a kid goes missing, the kid is with a parent or relative."

"Well, what about the other time? You said, '99 out of 100', what about the other time, the one? The one!" -

since the season 5 release date teaser came out, lot of stranger things fans have made their way back to the fandom!.. delightful! because of that, arguments over certain stranger things topics have gotten more vocal (if that's even possible); like, for example, the wars between byler and mileven and which will be endgame!

mileven shippers, or maybe even just anti-byler shippers, have been mentioning (as they always do) that "byler wont happen", "it makes no sense", and "byler shippers are delusional". as well as that comes a lot of complaints from byler fans; saying mileven shippers have it all wrong, they under analyze, and dont understand the small details Stranger Things writers and directors bring to the table.

with all this being said, as a byler shipper myself, its quite frustrating when some people just dont see what you see and will never believe what you believe, especially on a topic that is pretty important to you.. That sounds a bit familiar, right? 😭 (i'm getting to the point, I swear. stay with me now.)

- "Maybe I am a mess, maybe I’m crazy, maybe I’m out of my mind! But, God help me, I will keep these lights up until the day I die if I think there’s a chance that Will’s still out there!" -

this is ALL that Joyce Byers had gone through when trying to find Will in season one. Will communicated to her through the lights, she saw him through the wall, she heard his phone calls.. but because the chances that such supernatural and unrealistic things were happening are very low, nobody believed her.

recently, i saw a comment on tiktok stating something along the lines of, "i have no idea why it feels like everyone is incapable of listening in this fandom. the general audience has a surface level of knowledge on everything that simple analyses can make you feel crazy," and it made me realize something.

maybe, just maybe, that's the entire point. i know that's pretty obvious, but on the topic of byler, it's easy to feel crazy! a lot of people say that the byler evidence we have seen means nothing, and it's all just delusional. a HUGE number of people believe byler won't become endgame and are concerningly very against it, actually. it's like Joyce with the lights. she knew Will was alive, and people argued she was going crazy.

but was she really crazy? nope. she wasn't. after everything, after no one had believed her at first, she was RIGHT. i mean, (this is important) the proof that Will was alive was very obvious to her, she saw it herself! some just didn't agree with her because THEY didn't see it.

this sounds oddly familiar to what happens between mileven and byler shippers. we have so much evidence, so much proof, that it almost just feels obvious how the final season is gonna go for Mike and Will, yet we still get called delusional and crazy for it all.

but, this is SUPPOSED to happen. it's no accident. the writers have set this up in such a way that some people will just never accept the fact that Will and Mike could be a potential couple in season 5, the idea almost feels impossible to them: they are basically the people who didnt believe Joyce. they've built it in a way that mirrors Joyce's experience. despite everything, Will was still found alive after he was seen 'dead' and even had his own funeral! sometimes, the impossible IS possible.

in conclusion, byler may feel unrealistic, what are the chances that these male main characters of this show will fall in love? the shows so popular, that just can't happen! well, you know what, people also believed Will wasn't alive, but Joyce did. and she was right.

byler shippers, you may feel crazy. you may feel out of your mind. but maybe we are right, and people will just never believe it until it truly happens.. there will always be the 1 in the 99 out of 100.

if youve made it this far thank you so much!

#byler #joyce byers #will byers #mike wheeler #stranger things #byler endgame #i hope this makes sense #byler nation #idk how to use tags #mike wheeler is gay

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just-some-random-blogger · 2 months ago

Note

Can i request some cregan, like reader having her first time with him?

A/N: i know you said *HAVING her first time, but im not in a smut mood. I AM IN A CREGAN MOOD THO. this has been holed up here for a while now, so anon, if ur reading this, sorry no smut but I hope you like fluff. edit: the fic died and now im sad so the fic is sad pls i hate hormones

Frosty Lips

As a girl, you never imagined you would one day be wed to the to the Warden of the North. As a grown woman, you can't imagine ever being in the arms of another.

Cregan Stark x Reader | 500> | cw: fem!reader, fluff, smitten!Cregan, domestic life, typos, etc.

Tagging: @aneurins-barnard because her gif is LICHRALY the reason why I wanna write at all EVERYONE SAY thank you eli. also @arabellasleopardcoat HI!!!! LOOK ITS CREGAN!

Cregan rubs your bare shoulder and kisses the spot that connects to your collar. He rubs your arm, adjusting the blanket on you.

It was late, and he knew it. From the way the sun shone from out the window, he figured it was possibly noonday already.

He slowly pulls away from you and for the fourth time, you pull him back into your chest, groaning in disapproval.

He sighs.

You rub your cool hands down his bare back and he rubs his nose into your neck as a response, mumbling, "we must wake, my heart."

He feels your head shake. A sighs yet again, though devoid of any actual frustration; his eyes were brimming with endearment and amusement as he watches you pretend to sleep.

He speaks your name, meaning to sound vaguely threatening.

You frown and crawl atop him, "no."

"Gods be good," he mutters, clenching his teeth as you kiss his jaw. It was a losing battle, there was no way he was going to push you off, not when you were so warm and wanting.

"Must we rouse?" you mutter, "aren't I owed more time with my lord?"

Cregan's breath hitches.

You snake your arms around him, "we've just had our wedding night."

"Aye," he strokes your hair, "and I want for nothing more than to stay in your arms."

"..."

"... but?"

Cregan grunts, "but..." he rubs your back, "Winterfell will not stand without its ward."

You lift your head up.

The pouty frown you give him pokes a hole into his heart. It was not just a showy frown to get him to stay a little longer, you looked troubled. He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, "what's wrong?"

Taken off-guard by his question, you mask your expression with a pantomime of your original pout, "the ward of Winterfell does not warm my bed..." you nuzzle your face into his neck, "my husband does."

Cregan sighs as he clutches your head. He murmurs against a kiss on your hairline, "if you are worried the ward of Winterfell would forget about his wife, you are sorely mistaken."

A beat passes.

He rubs your shoulder as you draw aimless shapes on his skin.

"And what if the Lady of Winterfell does not do her duties well?"

He shifts to see your face.

"What if she makes a mess of everything she wishes to help with?"

Your glassy eyes make his brows furrow. He takes your hand and kisses it, "then I would be glad to have a lady who wishes to help me at all."

Your lip wobbles.

"And I would stop gifting her sweeties because she no longer deserve them."

You snort and slap his chest.

He smiles, glad the jest wipes the rueful look upon your face. He kisses the top of your head, "come, my bride. Let us make a mess of things together."

#cregan stark #cregan stark fanfic #cregan stark fic #cregan stark fluff #cregan stark fanfiction #cregan #creagn fic #cregan fanfic #cregan fluff #cregan fanfiction #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fic #cregan x reader #cregan stark x reader

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angelsglitch · 5 days ago

Text

ITS NOT LIKE I LIKE U

mean!reader x loser!ellie highschool au

summary: youre popular and it's safe to say you dont want losers like ellie coming to the best party of the year. but maybe the reason you dont want her there isnt the reason you would expect.

warnings: swearing, drug use

lowercase intended

pink - you

green - ellie

blue - other characters

one - see u saturday two - my little loser

you stumble over to where ellie is sitting, clearly intoxicated

“well, well, if it isn't little miss perfect. what’re you doing all alone over here?”

ellie looks up at you with a mix of annoyance and frustration, trying to maintain her composure

“shouldn’t i be calling you that…. and i'm not alone. jesse's just... getting a drink.”

“right.” you laugh then walk off.

elie lets out a sigh of relief as you walk away, but her moment of peace is short-lived. the party is getting more chaotic by the second, and she feels trapped in this situation

she walks out into the garden and takes a deep breath of fresh air, grateful for the quietness of the garden. she pulls out her phone and starts texting jesse

| ellie: i'm outside in amy’s garden. way too loud in there. come find me when you're done?

jesse responds quickly

| jesse: yeah man i'll be there in a minute jst tryna get away from this girl too lol being annoying as usual

a few minutes later, jesse finds ellie in the garden and sees her sat on a bench

“you good? saw you sneak out here before” he says

ellie nods, still looking a bit stressed. “yeah, I just needed some space. that girl is relentless.”

he sits down next to her “yeah, she gets like that. but you shouldn't let her get to you. she’s just jealous of how smart you are.”

ellie snorts “jealous? of me? that's a first.”

jesse grins “seriously man, you're way cooler than her. and all of them — you just don't see it.”

ellie rolls her eyes, but a small smile tugs at the corners of her mouth “whatever you say, jesse. let's just chill out here for a bit longer. i really don't want to deal with her ass again tonight.”

“alright, i’ll go find dina then i’ll be back” he says disappearing back inside

ellie watches him go, then leans back against the bench, staring up at the stars

“finally, some peace and quiet." she says to herself, however she jinxed it as you walk out into the garden.

ellie notices you and tenses up again, her shoulders stiffening as she pretends to be engrossed in her phone

“ohhh my god what a loser” you laugh to yourself slurring your words in the process.

ellie’s face flushes red with anger and embarrassment, but she keeps her voice steady "leave me alone bro. i’m not in the mood for your bullshit."

“why should i? i didn’t fucking want you to come anyways” you snap back

ellie stands up, finally facing you head-on “bro what the fuck is your problem with me?”

“i just don’t fucking like you!” you spit

ellie laughs bitterly "yeah, i got that loud and clear. but you know what? i don't like you either. you're just a shallow, fucking judgmental person who thinks being popular makes you better than everyone else."

“i’m not-! i just can’t- just forget it” you stutter trying not to say the wrong thing

ellie crosses her arms, looking at you with a mix of irritation and curiosity "can't what? can't handle someone who's not like you? someone who actually has interests and doesn't care about being liked by everyone?"

“you think i haven’t tried to fucking like you?”

ellie raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised by your outburst "what are you talking about? you've made it pretty clear you hate me from the moment we met."

“you just don’t get it and you never will so just… stop” you sigh

ellie scoffs

“no, i don't get it. you come here and start shit, then say you tried to like me? that's rich."

“seriously fucking just stop you’re gonna get shit out of me that i don’t wanna say”

ellie takes a step closer, her expression softening slightly “fine, i'll stop. but you know what? you're the one who keeps coming back to bother me. maybe you should figure out why that is before you start throwing insults around."

“because..” you trail off, too drunk to collect your thoughts

ellie waits, her eyes searching yours for an answer “because what? spit it out."

“because i fucking like girls” you let out a breathy scoff to yourself “and im in denial… but i know, deep down, but i cant-i have a reputation and i just can’t.”

ellie's eyes widen in surprise, her expression shifting from anger to shock “you... what? you like girls? that’s why you’ve been so shitty to me”

“i’ve always liked you I just- couldn’t let myself… so i tried to hate you and i was a bitch. i admit that”

ellie takes a step back, processing this information “wait, you've liked me this whole time? and you thought the best way to handle it was to bully me to push down your feelings?"

“what else could i do?! i couldn’t let anyone find out! everyone would see me differently, especially because you’re…. you”

she looks hurt and frustrated “so you decided to make my life hell instead of just talking to me like a normal person? you know, i thought you were just some typical homophobic bully. but now I see it's just your own internalized issues."

you stand there at a loss for words

ellie crosses her arms again, her voice firm but not unkind “you need to figure your shit out. you can't keep pretending to be someone you're not. and you definitely can't keep taking it out on me."

you sigh “im sorry okay? so there’s your answer.”

ellie sighs deeply, running a hand through her messy hair "sorry isn't enough. you need to stop being a coward and be honest with yourself and others. it's not fair to anyone, especially me."

you throw your hands up in the air in frustration “oh god i don’t even know why i told you.”

ellie looks at you with a mix of sympathy and frustration “maybe because deep down, you know you can trust me. but trust doesn't just magically fix everything, you still have to make things right.”

“i swear to god if you tell anyone about this you better count your days and count them well”

ellie’s expression hardens again “don't threaten me. and i won't tell anyone, but only because it's not my secret to share. but trust me, i can handle whatever you throw at me."

you sigh again “i just don’t know what to do.”

ellie softens slightly, seeing your genuine distress “you need to start by being honest with yourself. and maybe stop being such a jerk to people who don't deserve it.”

your expression falters and you look at her looking genuinely apologetic “im sorry, i really am. i just thought it was easier for me to not think of you in a romantic way if i just filled my head with bad thoughts about you.”

ellie shakes her head, a small smirk playing on her lips "that's the stupidest shit i've ever heard. but i guess i can understand the logic... sort of. you really are an idiot, you know that?"

“yeah, i am”

ellie chuckles softly, the tension between you starting to ease “at least you're self-aware. but seriously, you need to work on your coping mechanisms. they fucking suck.”

“seriously, i just don’t know what to do now. i don’t wanna keep on being mean to you but if i just stop altogether, my friends will think something is up.” you say

ellie considers this for a moment "well, we could start by being civil. maybe not hang out with your friends when they're being assholes to me. and maybe... we could try talking more. like normal people."

“are you serious? really? i can’t be seen speaking to ellie williams of all people.”

ellie rolls her eyes “oh please, like i care about your social status. i'm not asking you to be my best friend or anything. just... not treat me like shit anymore."

“ill think about it” you joke playfully

ellie rolls her eyes again, but there's a hint of a smile on her face "yeah, yeah. don't strain yourself too hard thinking, princess."

“you know you’re actually not that bad as ive conditioned myself to think” you admit

ellie smirks “and you're not as much of a bitch as i thought. who would've guessed?"

“oh ha ha”

ellie laughs genuinely this time "just admit it, you like speaking to me."

“maybe. or maybe my true feelings are coming out from the deep depths of shadows” you laugh

ellie raises an eyebrow, clearly amused and bursts into laughter "oh lord you're such a weirdo. but hey, if you can stop being a dick, maybe we can be friends."

“bro friends? i’m trying to not like you not fall in love with you”

ellie's expression shifts to one of surprise and slight disbelief "wow, you're really laying it all out there today, aren't you? you can't just say stuff like that and expect me to react normally."

“i’m drunk. i really don’t care what i say.”

ellie crosses her arms, looking skeptical "drunk or not, you should still watch what comes out of your mouth. especially when it's about your feelings for me."

“why” you say confused

ellie steps closer, her voice lowering “because it complicates things. you're supposed to be my bully, not someone who's secretly into me. it's confusing and messy.”

“fair enough” you shrug

she studies your face, trying to gauge your sincerity

“so, what happens now? you just go back to being the popular pretentious bitch and pretend this conversation never happened?”

“well, i don’t know. i’m sure you heard the talk of the school that me and mason broke up and i don’t know what to do about it because he wants to get back together, but i don’t like him. i don’t know if i like boys at all.”

ellie's expression softens slightly, showing a hint of concern "yeah, i heard. and honestly, it sounds like you need to figure out your own feelings before you worry about mason. you don't have to rush into anything."

“i’m sorry for like telling you my feelings about you and shit”

ellie shrugs

"it's fine. i mean, it's not like you planned to confess your feelings while drunk. just... maybe next time you're feeling confused, talk to someone who's actually a friend."

“thank you” hug her but she doesn’t push you off

she stiffens slightly at first, clearly surprised by the hug, but then relaxes and awkwardly pats your back

"yeah, don't mention it. and maybe lay off the alcohol for a bit."

“it’s cold, do you wanna talk inside?” you suggest while rubbing your arms

ellie glances at the house, then back at you “sure, why not. i could use a break from the cold anyway."

ellie follows you, looking around curiously as you walk upstairs and enter the guest room

"so, what's the plan? are we just going to sit here and avoid the real world for a while?"

“i mean sure, i don’t mind”

ellie plops down on the bed, making herself comfortable "cool. i could use a break from studying anyway. and honestly, i'm curious about why you're suddenly being nice to me."

“well i did just fucking confess my feelings” you say, confused about her obliviousness

ellie laughs softly "yeah, that is true but that doesn't mean you have to be nice. you could still go back to being your usual self tomorrow."

“fair… do you think it was obvious?”

she looks at you

“y’know that i liked you or was i too much of a bitch for you to tell”

ellie thinks for a moment, fiddling with a loose thread on her shirt "i mean, i had my suspicions at first. the way you would always target me specifically, the insults that seemed a bit too personal... it made me wonder if there was something more behind it."

“oh.”

ellie smirks again "yeah, 'oh' is right. you weren't exactly subtle about it"

“did you ever feel any type of way back..?”

ellie hesitates, avoiding eye contact “i... don't know. maybe a little confused? i mean, i never expected the girl who made my life hell to suddenly have feelings for me.”

ellie notices your silence and looks at you "what? you can't just ask me that and then not say anything."

“i just don’t know what to say.”

ellie sighs and leans back against the wall "well, maybe you should start by explaining why you even liked me in the first place. i mean, we're literally complete opposites."

“i don’t know, you’re pretty, your smart, you have friends that like you…”

ellie chuckles slightly at the compliment

“pretty? that's a new one. and yeah, i have friends, but they're not exactly popular like yours.”

“yeah.”

ellie looks at you intently

“i really didn’t plan on telling you this”

ellie laughs again, shaking her head "i know you didn't. but now that you did, we're stuck in this weird situation where you have feelings for me and i'm just... confused."

“yeah” you walk over to the bed and sit next to her

ellie tenses up slightly as you sit close to her, the bed adjusting to the new weight

"you're really not making this any easier you know”

“what?”

elie looks at you, her expression a mix of annoyance and curiosity "trying to figure out what to do about all this. you're sitting here, being nice to me, telling me you have feelings for me, and i don't know how to react."

“right”

ellie runs a hand through her messy hair, clearly frustrated

“and it's not like i can just forget everything you've done. the bullying, the insults... it's hard to just move past that.”

“i’m not saying you have to like me back ellie”

ellie looks at you, her expression softening slightly "i know you're not. but you're still expecting something from me, aren't you? some kind of reaction or response?"

“well yeah i guess, but i im not expecting anything i mean i made your life shit for ages” you reply back to her as she glances down at your lips as you talk

ellie quickly looks away, trying to hide the fact that she was staring at your lips "you're right about one thing. you've been a real fucking pain in my ass”

“i know i get it” you say as the two of you hold eye contact

ellie's breath hitches slightly as she maintains eye contact, her heart racing. the tension in the room is palpable.

"then why are you still here? why do you even care about how i feel?"

“i’ve already told you, i get it’s hard to understand, it’s confusing for me too.”

ellie swallows hard, her gaze flickering between your eyes and lips again

"yeah, it really is. you're a walking contradiction, you know that? one minute you're being a total jerk, and the next you're confessing your feelings."

“i know, i know” you say looking down at her hands avoiding her stare

ellie notices your gaze and instinctively pulls her hands away, crossing her arms defensively "stop looking at me like that."

“like what?” you say, genuinely oblivious

ellie huffs, clearly flustered

"like you want something from me. like you're waiting for me to do something."

“i said nothing, and the fact you brought it up seems like you want to do something.”

ellie rolls her eyes, but there's a hint of a smile on her face "you're infuriating, you know that? always finding a way to twist my words."

“i’m just kidding, unless? joking.”

ellie lightly shoves your shoulder, a small laugh escaping her lips

"oh, shut up. i'm not doing anything with you."

“your loss.” you shrug as you lean back on the bed

ellie watches you lie down, her eyes lingering on your relaxed form for a moment before she shakes her head

"you're actually so full of yourself. just because you're hot and popular doesn't mean i'm going to fall for your charms."

“oh so you think im hot?” you say turning to face her fully.

ellie face turns bright red as she realizes her slip-up "i- bro- i didn't say that- i just meant… oh you’re so fucking annoying”

“aw” you mock her and pull a fake sad expression

ellie covers her face with her hands, clearly embarrassed "stop being so smug. it's not cute."

“you’re cute”

ellie peeks at you through her fingers, her cheeks still flushed

"i hate you."

“i hate you too.”

jesse pushes through the crowd of everyone in the kitchen and walks up to dina.

“hey d, you seen ellie anywhere?”

“ohh, no she’s not in here or in the garden, maybe check out front or upstairs, we’ll look in abit” she says to him taking a sip of her drink as she dances.

“alright we’ll check for her soon” he replied as he places a kiss on her mouth.

ellie hesitates for a moment before lying down next to you, keeping a small distance between you

"this doesn't mean anything, okay? i'm just tired of arguing."

“yeah, i know… me too.” you let out a breathy sigh

ellie stares up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the fact that your shoulder is almost touching hers

"you're really testing my patience here man.”

“could say the same to you”

ellie looks at you with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity "what do you mean by that?"

“im kidding” you say nudging her shoulder

ellie groans in frustration "you're such a tease. i don't know if i should punch you or kiss you."

“oh?”

ellie's eyes widen at her own words, realizing what she just said

"i- like bro i didn’t even say that. i didn’t mean it like- i'm just tipsy and saying stupid things."

“so why don’t you?”

she freezes, her heart pounding in her chest*

"why don't i what?"

“the second option.”

ellie's breath hitches as she looks at you, her eyes flickering to your lips again

“you’re fucking kidding me”

“am i?”

ellie swallows hard, her resolve weakening "yeah actually, yes, you are. and i should be smarter than this, but... i can't help myself."

ellie leans in slightly, her voice barely above a whisper

"you're really going to make me do this shit, aren't you?"

“hm?” you tilt your head slightly

she leans in and kisses you passionately, her hands gripping your shirt as she pulls you closer. the kiss is filled with pent-up frustration and desire.

ellie breaks the kiss for a moment, breathing heavily

"i hate you for this."

“i hate you more.”

you lean back in ellie kisses you back fiercely, her fingers tangling in your hair as she deepens the kiss. her body presses against yours, seeking more contact.

suddenly dina walks in as she’s looking for ellie and you both jump away from eachother quickly

ellie quickly runs a hand through her messy hair, trying to compose herself as dina stands in the doorway with a smirk on her face.

"well, well, well. what do we have here?" dina scoffs

“what.”

dina leans against the doorframe, crossing her arms

"don't 'what' me. i saw you two. i'm not blind."

“what’s happening is someone fucking?” one of the school jocks, logan says peering through the door

ellie's face turns bright red again, mortified at being caught by not just dina, but also logan

"looks like the nerd finally got lucky." he says

“and with little miss queen bee? noooo wayyyyy! and after mason? hashtag downgrade!” he chuckles to himself as he snaps a pic of us, finding himself hilarious.

ellie shoots him a glare "shut up, logan. fuck off."

logan chuckles and walks away, leaving dina still standing there with a knowing look on her face

"you know this is going to be the talk of the school now right?

ellie groans and puts her head in her hands

"i'm never going to live this down. i can already hear the whispers."

“how about you just drive me home?” you change the subject, forcing a smile.

ellie looks up at you, grateful for the distraction "yeah, that sounds like a good idea. let's get out of here before anyone else shows up."

“good plan.” the two of youwalk down the stairs through the kitchen and leave amys house, then get into ellie’s car.

ellie starts the car and pulls out of amy’s driveway, her knuckles white as she grips the steering wheel tightly

"i can't believe this is happening. why did i let myself get caught up in this?"

“to be honest i think we would have been fine if logan and dina didn’t see” you say trying to look on the bright side to a situation that has no bright side

ellie glances at you, her expression a mix of frustration and annoyance

"yeah, but they did see. and now everyone's going to know. it's just... embarrassing."

“dina won’t tell anyone, but logan… i don’t know, he’s like masons best friend”

ellie's grip on the wheel tightens even more at the mention of mason

"yeah mason is the last person i want to know about this. he'll never let me hear the end of it."

“how do you think i feel he’s like the most crazy ex ever!”

ellie lets out a humorless laugh

"right, i forgot about that. he's obsessed with you. this is going to be even worse for you than it is for me."

“exactly and like y’know.”

ellie nods, understanding the gravity of the situation

"yeah, he's going to flip out. he's already threatened me once for even talking to you."

“i don’t think people would even believe logan though, like me with you.”

ellie glances at you again, her expression softening slightly "maybe not. but he'll still try to start rumors. and you know how fast they spread in this school."

“it’s fine, i don’t even care anymore.” you sigh

ellie lets out a small sigh following yours, her shoulders relaxing a bit

"you're surprisingly calm about this. i'm still freaking out here."

“i think if i lose my friends for yknow making out with a nerd then they’re obviously not my friends, y’know?”

ellie smiles slightly, touched by your words

"i appreciate that, angel. but i don't want to cause any problems for you. you have a reputation to maintain."

“it’s fine ellie, really, i feel speaking about it tonight kinda changed my thoughts on things, y’know.”

ellie pulls up to your house and parks the car

"i guess i did have some things to say. but i didn't expect them to affect you so much."

“thanks for driving me” you say giving her a genuine smile.

ellie turns to face you, her expression serious

"anytime. and if you ever need to talk again... i'm here."

“i- okay.” you say giving her a quick kiss on the lips

ellie blushes again, caught off guard by the kiss

"see you tomorrow, princess."

“see you at school nerd.”

ellie watches as you get out of the car and head inside. she sits there for a moment, processing everything that just happened before driving away.

ellie walks into the school hallway, feeling a mix of anxiety and determination. she can already hear whispers and see people pointing and staring at her. maybe not that dramatic, but it definitely felt that way.

ellie tries to act casual as she walks into class andtakes her seat next to you, but she can't help but notice the looks from her classmates. she whispers to you

"i think everyone knows."

“yep. same” you say quietly

the teacher looks at the two of you

“girls stop talking.”

ellie quickly shuts up and faces forward, her cheeks still slightly pink. she glances at you out of the corner of her eye, silently communicating her discomfort.

“awww love birds” one of the boys on the basketball team speaks out

ellie tenses up at the comment, her hands gripping her pencil tightly. she shoots a glare at the basketball player.

“shut the fuck up, jake."

you pull your phone out under the desk to message ellie

| you: everyone knows and ive fell out with pretty much all my friends because of it ;-;

ellie's phone buzzes and she discreetly checks it, her heart sinking as she reads your message. she types back quickly.

| ellie: sorry to hear that like genuinely. this is all my fault

| you: it’s okay, i have u right? my little loser”

ellie can't help but smile at your message, despite the situation. she types back with a hint of sarcasm.

| ellie: wow thanks for the pep talk. i feel so much better now."

| you: but seriously, it’s good. im sure masons mad, haven’t seen him yet today

ellie glances around the room nervously, half-expecting Mason to burst in at any moment.

| ellie: yeahh i’m sure he's seething. he's probably planning some dramatic confrontation.

| you: we can talk about it behind school later, me and u

ellie nods slightly, understanding your plan.

| ellie: okay sounds good. i'll meet u there after class

ellie takes a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves.

| you: its gonna be okay

| ellie: "I hope so. but I trust u. srsly

you give her a small smile as you glance over to her, feeling a mix of relief and anticipation for your meeting later.

| you: speak to u later see u there loser

divider creds: @uzmacchiato

#ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie the last of us #ellie willams x reader #ellie x reader #tlou fanfiction #ellie tlou #high school #tlou au #ellie x you

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warmcookiepuff · 7 months ago

Text

RESTART ( badly timed reunions suck ass when you leave your best friend behind)

— gn!reader, jason, wingman roy, mentions of dick

tw: curse words (many), jason dealing with his mental health and hyper independence (i hc he never properly deals with it)

p.s: raw writing skills after a year of retirement (it sucks).

p.s 2.0: Yes i rewrote this

---- ⭐ ----

"You've got a type," Roy jokes, lightly shoving his friend as he swivles his cup of juice. His eyes turning to the newbie vigilante across the room, stressing over the cups knocked over on the table.

"Yeah? What's that?" Jason rolls his eyes, adjusting himself on the wall. His eyes never leave your back.

"Scary," Roy hums, taking a sip of his juice as he watches you stack the cups again annoyingly.

It's been a while, you know. Probably a decade. Last you checked, he upped and died after getting adopted from the Alley you both grew up in. His shirt used to be as dirty as yours. Your smarts still match his, even more actually. Both were practically inseparable before--

Well.

"I don't know why you guys don't just talk," Roy muses. "It's not like you don't know each other."

"We don't," Jason answers harshly, his eyes looking away from you to his friend. "I'm not the kid that played mechanic anymore. Besides, I've got blood on my hands."

Its quiet. The house is still buzzing with friends and family. Wayne's mansion was grand as always. Jason always looks out of place in a space like this. Especially in celebrations, he typically never shows up. Not even for his own birthday. Much less Dick's.

Where he currently is.

The real question is: "Why is he here?"

Dick knows Jason won't come to the party. Everyone does. In typical Jaybird fashion, he'd send a text a few days late wishing his family a 'happy birthday' (if they're lucky).

He's a self-sufficient guy. The hyper independent, gruff, bad boy vigilante with a few screws loose. He does fine on his own.

So Dick brings in his screws; you. Jason fell for it like a sheep.

"How did Dick even--" Jason starts, feeling frustrated over the situation. Roy cuts him off.

"I told him."

"Honest to God I could kill you right now, Roy."

"In my defense, it sounded good at the time."

"I almost chopped their head off? What the fuck do you mean it sounded good?!"

"They threw like 15 bombs at you. Something tells me they don't just die easy."

"Christ, you're insufferable," Jay pinches the bridge of his nose. Needing silence above all else at the moment for the migraine that was shooting up his psyche. "i need some fresh air. DON'T follow me. I'll shoot your ass."

Jason leaves before Roy could say a word.

The balcony doors push open. Cold air pricks his cheeks and he takes a deep, deep breath of the polluted Gotham air. He rests his elbows on the railings, overseeing the city raining with crime.

Home.

There's a beat of silence. Before he sighs heavily, holding his head in his hands.

"Why am I like this," He asks himself in a low, tired voice. One he uses when he's sure he's alone. "Fuck's wrong with me. Can't be normal for five fucking seconds."

"Honestly, it was like 46 minutes but who's counting?"

Jason arms himself with his gun as swift as possible, his eyebrows furrow angrily as he makes sense of the silhouette standing by the balcony door behind him.

"Better than beheading, I'd say," You roll your eyes, walking up to him unfazed.

"You-- I-- Give me like 5 seconds," He locks in, immediately stuffing his gun in his holster. Fuck, since when did he stutter.

"Time's up," You answer smoothly, leaning on the railing with your body turned to his own rigid stance. "Speak, big boy."

"How'd you know I was out here?"

"You're a big guy," You answer, shrugging. "Also, Roy."

"Fucking ginger," He sighs, massaging his temples. "Don't do this to me."

"Do what?"

"Pretend we're talking. Like we're friends again."

"I'm not doing anything you don't want me doing," You put your hands up in surrender. "Talk when you want."

It felt like hours had passed by in the quiet that the cold had started to nick at your skin. Cars had passed, small amounts of people had left. For once, Jason didn't want to disappoint someone more than he already has -- he's stuck in his own head. He had to say something.

Anything.

Anything that isn't so fucking stupid.

"I... I missed... you," He says through gritted teeth, his eyes never meeting yours -- his heart pounding and nervous.

He should've died in the Pit.

The second of silence you left had him consider every escape option possible.

You snort loudly and burst out laughing. It catches him off guard. It was noisy, loud -- full of life. You grip the railing as you hold your stomach.

"I--," You heave, snickering through your words. "I-- I missed you too."

#jason todd imagine #jason todd angst #jason todd x reader #jason todd #jason todd fluff #jason todd headcanon #jason todd x gn!reader #red hood x reader #red hood #red hood fluff #dc comic #dc headcanon #dc x reader #gender neutral reader

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ivysprophecy · 7 months ago

Text

sharpest tools

warnings: dual POV HAHA so im not saying i know jj or that this is how he thinks or whatever im simply doing it for a change of pace and writing style, wanted to experiment a little so by all means if this isnt your thing pls keep scrolling. mentions of extreme anxiety, mentions of chronic pain meds, over the counter meds

word count: 2299

prev. | next

masterlist

summary: after your fight blows out of proportion both you and jj are left wondering what just happened? and the poor pogues are caught in the crossfires trying to delegate and reunite the two idiots. because neither of them are the sharpest tools in the shed.

jj's pov

"jj... jj wake up," my eyes open enough to see someone crouching in front of me.

why the hell is sarah waking me up?

i move to sit up forgetting i slept in the hammock last night so i swing and struggle for a second before gaining my balance back.

"whats up?"

she hands me a water and some aspirin she snagged from the kitchen, from the looks of it no one else is awake. "just wanted to make sure you were alright."

"i appreciate it sar but im good. i swear," i take a swig of the water before swallowing the pain killers, "theres absolutely nothing wrong," because really i dont know that the fuck is wrong.

"im guessing you dont wanna talk about what happened last night?"

"honest to god sarah im not even sure what happened- that girl kissed me and before i could get her off me y/n swooped in and exploded."

sarah sits criss cross on the grass next to the hammock looking over at me with an odd look on her face.

"so you didnt mean to kiss her?"

"no- sarah i didnt kiss that girl i swear on my life. she was asking me a question about directions and all of a sudden shes got me pinned against the rocks. honest," i hold my hands up in surrender feeling interrogated, "i'd never do that to y/n"

"im not saying you would- its just that we didnt know until last night so... speaking of that. what the fuck was that about?"

everyone has so many questions and honestly i do too, i dont know half of the answers. feels like i wiped out and i cant find the shore.

i just wish she'd talk to me. like im sure if shed just let me get two words in i could reassure her but i dont know what shes thinking right now and its killing me.

i hate it. i hate that i caused this.

but in my defense it kinda feels like she blew it way out of proportion if she had just let me explain this whole thing would be okay.

"i just... i dont know sar- she had all this anxiety about relationships and whatever- i dont really get it but she said she wanted to keep it between the two of us. who was i to tell her no ya know? i just wanna be with her."

sarah just kinda looks at me with wide eyes.

"what?"

"youre like- down bad arent you? youre totally whipped."

"i wouldnt say that-" she interrupts me.

"jj maybanks got a girlfriend... this is headline news," she chuckles making me roll my eyes. i thought we were having a serious conversation, not that i try to have those often but i could use her advice on the subject.

"sarah seriously- what the hell do i do? i barely know what happened last night how am i supposed to fix what i dont know is fucked up?"

"well from the tid bit you told me? sounds like shes massively overthinking and just saw the wrong thing at the wrong time, and it just so happened to fit into her warped little nightmare."

what the fuck did she just say?

"so youre saying this is just all in her head?"

"no- well- kind of... from the sounds of it shes got a lot of anxiety and trust issues. shes probably trying to self sabotage the relationship."

i let out a frustrated sigh, "can you not talk like a therapist for a minute?"

"jj what im saying is you both dont know how to handle the situation. you need to talk to each other, have a real discussion not just scream in each others faces like last night."

"i tried to talk to her! she wouldnt listen!"

sarah lets out a laugh letting her head hang as her body shook from the laughter. pushing some hair out of her face she turns her body to face me more head on.

"jj- it was the heat of the moment and she was scared and upset. of course she wasnt going to listen... now that shes had time to cool off? you might have a better shot."

"but what if she doesnt believe me?" look i dont like admitting that i get a little insecure sometimes, but id rather do that than fuck my relationship with y/n.

because god ive been trying for so long i dont know what im gonna do if i lose her.

i really need to see her. "is she awake?"

"not yet i dont think... why? what are you gonna do?" i stand up running my hands through my untamed hair trying to wake up a little bit.

"im gonna try to make it up to her- make sure shes up by the time i get home. 'kay?"

"home? what the fuck are you talking about jj? where are you going?" sarah stands up as she sees me walking towards my bike. her voice raising so it will carry enough for me to hear.

"dont worry bout it!"

with those final words i take off down the dirt road...

readers pov

ugh. my head is pounding. i need excedrin.

god last night was a horrible combination for my chronic migraines.

i walk into the kitchen and see john b and pope huddled in the corner making shushing noises before turning around to face me.

"there she is!" i shove my hand in john bs face to shut him up.

"its nine am. wheres the medicine cabinet my head is throbbing." poor sweet pope hands me the bottle of pills and a cold water. god bless him. "thank you," i let out a whine as i tilt my head back to take the medicine. "sorry ive got a killer migraine."

"oh-" they exchange glances with one another before pope speaks up in a hushed tone, "go lay down- let the meds work. and drink your water."

i squint at him, seeing how nervous he is. he wants to say something. they both do.

is this headache bearable enough to get this conversation over with? technically yes. should i use it as an excuse to ignore everything? probably not...

"its okay. we can talk. i can tell you want to."

"thank god" jb expresses before pope hits him in the chest, which leads to john b throwing his arms up in defense "what? you said we needed to talk to her!"

"yea but not force her to!"

"guys- cmon its fine. really. i know its a lot so lets just get this over with. yes jj and i had been dating for a month. yes we didnt tell anyone on purpose, i didnt want the pressure. i dont know if he kissed that girl or not but i freaked out and just wanted to be alone. i didnt mean to hurt his feelings but i was obviously upset so i said things i didnt mean. there. happy?"

both the boys look at me with bug eyes, "a month?!" they exclaim together.

"my god- yes. a month. its really not a big deal-"

"yes it is y/n- thats a huge step for you and jj. i thought the whole casual thing would flame out. this is a huge commitment for the both of you," pope reminds me, as if i wasnt aware. i

i was simply trying to down play it to give myself a reason to care less, seems like thats not happening any time soon.

"what are you my doctor?"

"i think what pope is trying to say is... were a little worried about you y/n/n... what happened last night- you kinda flew off the handle."

i whip my head around so fast i get dizzy, grabbing the counter for stability.

"excuse me? i flew off the handle? jj was the one kissing other girls-"

"y/n i think deep down you know thats not true-"

"no- no you dont get to tell me im crazy and then tell me what im thinking- this is my relationship. this is exactly why i didnt wanna tell everyone because i knew youd all stick your noses in it. what happened is between me and jj. no one else."

pope reaches out to steady me seeing me sway a little, "woah- okay maybe we should put a pause in this convo-"

"im fine pope. i just dont see how this is anyones business."

"we're not saying its our business y/n/n, were just worried about you. youre not acting like yourself. you seem anxious, paranoid, you know- just not normal," pope pleaded with me, making me sit on one of the dining chairs.

"right-" john be interjected, "all were trying to point out is we all know jj would never ever put his whatever you wanna call it with you in jeopardy. hes whipped. theres no way he went and kissed another girl."

i see where theyre coming from. i really do. i want to believe it but there are too many things playing in my head that tell me otherwise.

on one hand, i know jj would never hurt me. not on purpose, and to cheat is definitely with a purpose. hes always reassured me that its just me and since we got serious he hasnt given me a reason to doubt him.

but on the other... just seeing her all over him is so hard to forget. it all happened so fast, i dont know how long theyd been kissing for, maybe i got there just as it happened or maybe itd been going on for a while i have no idea. too many factors.

"y/n if you listen to literally anything we say let it be that we know jj loves you," i look up at the curly haired boy whos basically grown to be my brother.

"thats a big word for elmo-"

pope runs a hand over his face with a sigh, "for the love of god be serious for a minute," 'theyre made for each other' he thinks to himself. "just hear him out. please. for some reason he loves you a lot-"

"hey!"

"-and if were speaking freely youre the one whos put all of this at stake because all the rest of know jj didnt kiss that girl. youre the only one who has doubts. so talk to him. please. were begging you."

"... 'we're?' youve all talked about this?"

"of course we have- it all unraveled in front of us what else did you expect? by the way i was supposed to tell you sarah is siked for you- maybe nows not the time," john be stops himself scratching the back of his head.

honestly it gets a giggle out of me.

"okay.. yea. ill talk to him. where is he? is he here?"

pope looks out the window in the front yard, where he can see sarah peeking in before moving out os sight to pretend she wasnt listening in.

"he was here- he slept outside last night. wanted to give you space since you both normally share the couch."

oh... thats- sweet.

fuck. maybe i am screwing all of this up.

"can i come in now??" i hear sarah yell from the other side of the door.

"get in here!" i raise my voice a little testing my headache, which ironically has somehow gotten a little better.

sarah walks through the door. letting out a rather dramatic sigh, "finally. sorry- jj got some big idea and left on his bike a few minutes ago. said to have y'n awake by the time he gets back so... i dont really know what to do now."

john b looks at his wife and i notice... its like how jj looks at me.

fuck.

fuck fuck fuck.

"do you know where he went??" i look at sarah with a begging tone and pleading tone.

she shakes her head "sorry honey bun," she teases with a smile. "but since weve got time... john b, pope, and i will go get some breakfast while we wait for jj to get back. you stay here- give you two some space to work it all out."

"what? no its fine- really you dont have to go..."

sarah walks up to me grabbing me by the shoulder with some stupid fucking grin like shes all knowing, "girl. youre gonna be fine. youll talk, kiss, and make up and be the happiest couple ever. it will be sickening, trust me id know. relax. it will be fine. you and jj will be able to work this out, im sure."

and with that john b grabs the keys to the twinkie heading out the door following wifes orders, with pope following in suit with an apologetic shrug.

sarah gives me a teasing kiss on the forehead, "well be back soon sweetie be safe."

"oh fuck off- bring back bacon and coffee please," she salutes me before walking outside with the boys.

"no one ever said she was the sharpest tool in the shed," john b quips as he steps into the twinkie with a sigh before turning the ignition.

pope hops in the back letting out a small laugh "yea thats for sure."

"neither of them are," sarah rebuts looking over at john b as they all laugh. "theyre both as sharp as a dull spoon"

"what the fuck did you just say?" jb looks over at her with a quizzical look on his face.

"just drive routledge."

#jj maybank fics #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank one shot #fic recs <3 #jj maybank need you by my side #mama needs her jj #my writing <3 #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #obx

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with-my-calamitous-love · 7 months ago

Text

last 5 years running out my mouth

katsuki bakugou x reader

one night, amongst the crowds and the music, katsuki wonders why he’s looking for you- he knows you don’t go to parties, anymore. themes of (katsuki’s) depression and substance usage

i love you 5sos nation 🪐 inspired by you dont go to parties

5 am.

katsuki’s clinging to his couch. everyone on his contact list, and everyone on their contact lists and so forth, stood in his house. red, drunken eyes dart around, as if looking for someone. though he knows its futile. you’re not there. at least, not anymore.

he groans, sitting up. he needs to vomit. this isn’t a good look for a new, fresh-faced hero. he pushes through the crowds, starting to kick people out. he didn’t care where they went, just not here.

he knocked over a vase. he’s probably offended a bunch of people. he’s trying to make it to a place in the apartment that doesn’t reek of alcohol and dead dreams- an ambitious attempt, to put it nicely.

he groans, bumping into someone. he grows even more frustrated when he sees who it is.

“katsuki, you’ve gotta sit down, man.” kirishima says, directing his friend to the bedroom. kirishima is a party goer, but lately, he knows to stay sober enough to keep things in check. someone had to be bakugou’s jailor.

katsuki doesn’t protest, sitting down while the redhead ushers everyone out of the house. he sighs, returning to the bedroom, seeing bakugou sitting there, his head in his hands.

“fuck… i don’t know.” he pinches the bridge of his nose. he doesn’t curse out of anger or hatred; he curses out of sadness. katsuki sits there, like theres vultures spinning around him, waiting for their time to strike.

what a tragedy.

bakugou opens his mouth to say something, but the overwhelming urge to vomit takes over. kirishima walks over, pushing him onto the bed and making sure he lays on his side. he stares, heartbroken, wondering where it all went wrong.

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you prayed he’d just talk to you, about his fears and about his doubts. you wish he’d be honest about his panic attacks, especially after the war. he’d wake up in a cold sweat, remembering the fighting, remembering the tears. but some invisible barricade caged his feelings inside his heart. this had to be his battle.

he’s still there in the darkness, feeling like a heartless monster. he’s starting to come undone, the sadness in his bones seeping into the security and confidence once embedded in him. maybe he isn’t who he set out to be in the first place.

but he’s not gonna let you know that.

“told you i’m find, moron.” he says, spooning you. he hopes you don’t notice how glossy his red eyes are, but you do.

“katsuki, please-“

“i’m fine.”

you bite your lip. if you can’t get him to open up, maybe you can take his mind off of it. a party never hurt anybody, right?

“…denki’s throwing this get-together tomorrow night.” you say, proposing the idea to him. “its a reunion for our class. we should go. it’ll get your mind off of… whatever it is.”

he scoffs, musing that he’s too good for parties. “yeah, a bunch of lightweight assholes i have to drive home? no thanks.”

“oh c’mon, it’ll be fun.” you pout.

it’ll be fun, and because you’re desperate to see a smile on his face again, even if its from laughing at his friends drunken antics. anything that’ll have even a semblance of your katsuki back.

“i’ll think about it.” he can’t say no to that face.

and that was the first time you ever saw katsuki drink.

he can handle his alcohol well, actually. he keeps you close by him, starting with one shot, and then another, and then kissing your neck in front of all your friends while his bitter breath tickles your skin.

he was laughing, enjoying himself. he was surrounded by people who diminished his doubts. a night of partying and fun did him some good.

what you didn’t anticipate, however, was how often he was attending them now.

the fame followed him everywhere. katsuki would end up in different celebrities’s basements, with close friends or even strangers. at first, you went with him. but it were as if the alcohol formed oceans between you two, separating you from katsuki.

he’s spiralling and you can see it. he’d chase down all that pain with shots, and all that trauma with drunken dares and released inhibitions. at first, you went with him to have fun. then, you went with him to make sure he didn’t take his foot off the breaks. now, you couldn’t bring yourself to go at all.

“katsuki, you need to stop.” you say, following one of his nasty hangovers.

he groans, clutching his temples. “don’t… god, you’re making my head spin, [y/n].”

“i’m making your head spin?” you scoff. “no, thats because you were out till 3 last night.”

“it was denki’s birthday.” he tries to excuse himself.

“no, it was sero’s, and they told me you were shitfaced for most of it!” you raise your voice, tears brimming.

his eyes widen, seeing how upset you are. he knows its irresponsible, but he also knows being drunk was a way to feel something, anything other than sad. given the choice between drowning in whiskey and drowning in tears, he chose the one that was capable of poisoning him.

“please.” you plead. “stop with the parties, with the drinking. its hurting you!”

“i have it under control!”

“you don’t!”

he stands up, his hangover more evident than ever. “god fucking damnit, [y/n]. if all you’re gonna do is bitch and moan like a fucking extra, just go!”

exactly 2 seconds in, katsuki realized what he said. but he’s too late.

theres a palpable silence in the air, followed by the sniffling crinkle of your nose as the tears cascade down.

“[y/n], babe, baby, i’m sorry. fuck, i-“

you slap him, cutting him off. his head whips to the side, just taking it. he wants to argue back, but he knows he deserved that.

you pack up your things, and he doesn’t have it in him to try and stop you. he begs in his mind for you to stay. secretly, you’re begging that he’ll beg.

but he doesn’t. and you leave.

subsequently, katsuki’s partying habit goes from controlled to dangerous.

he’s never not drunk, never not out doing something with people he doesn’t know. he’s always staying just a bit too late, but always manages to kick himself out in time to get to work. he’s always irritable, in part to the hangovers but largely in part to your absence.

people are starting to catch on. maybe not the fans, who adore him and his looks no matter what, but his colleagues have noticed a shift. the no-bullshit, toughed out dynamight sunk somewhere beneath his rising blood-alcohol levels.

still, he looks for you. he wonders if you’re still on the couch, singing karaoke with your friends, belting and humming along to the tunes. he thinks you might be in the kitchen, making yourself a drink and calling an uber in advance. or maybe you’re in the washroom, overstimulated, your anxiety taking over. anxiety he knows all too well. the anxiety he tried to hide beneath parties.

some nights, he’ll drunkenly stumble into the washroom, whether its his own or someone else’s. he’ll wonder if you’re there, sitting on the sink, ready to leave with him to your shared home.

but its another lonely night.

you don’t go to parties anymore.

because you’ve stayed at home, crying over photos, wearing his hoodies. everything you’ve learned about katsuki during your split had been against your will. there was silence from him, but the whispers of news and gossip tabloids could scream. you’re mad, yes, but you also pray for his safety.

selfishly so, you hope he still looks for you at those parties. at least there, he cares a little. maybe even more than you realize.

right now, he’s sitting on the couch with kirishima, denki, and sero. though all of them have had a bit to drink, katsuki is undoubtedly the worst of them all. he’s bitching about you, about missing you, about how you left him.

“she just.. got up and fucking left.” he slurs, leaning his head back. the mood is killed, and no one really has the energy to argue. except maybe for denki, who points out the obvious.

“you told her to leave. and she had a good reason for bringing it up to you, dude.” denki says. “can’t blame her for walking out on you.”

silence. the calm before the storm.

exactly 5 seconds later, katsuki is positively losing his shit, yelling at denki who just sits there, dumbfounded. kirishima is holding his friend back while sero attempts to position himself between the two. its one thing to be yelled at. but being yelled at by katsuki bakugou? thats something else.

“i don’t know what to do, man.” sero says, looking at eijirou for answers. the redhead honestly isn’t sure either. one thought crosses his mind, but he’s worried.

“get him to sit down.” eijirou says. “i’m calling [y/n].”

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“hello?” you say into the receiver. theres a pit in your stomach hearing ejirou’s voice, knowing he wouldn’t call you if it wasn’t an emergency.

“hey [y/n], listen… katsuki’s drunk, and he’s yelling at denki… i’m so sorry, but… you think you can come get him?”

god, its exhausting being a good person sometimes.

“yeah, i’ll be right there.” you huff, grabbing your car keys. eijirou thanks you, knowing you might be the one thing that calms him down right now.

all 3 boys help get him into your car. your heart clenches, seeing just how badly he’s been doing. he’s sick, and he’s tired. his eyes are swollen from crying, you know it.

eijirou leaves you with a long hug, arms embracing you. “take care.” he says. “call me if he acts up. he might need someone to kick his ass.”

you chuckle, for what feels like the first time in forever. “yeah, he could.”

when you re-enter the car, you don’t start it right away. you look over at katsuki in the passenger seat. maybe he’s starting to sober up, or he’s drunk enough where he’s starting to be honest.

“i’m so fuckin’ sorry, babe.” he says. you just nod, eyes welling up with tears, words failing you.

he laughs bitterly, head leaning your way. “i’m a mess, [y/n]. like, a real mess. doctor told me i have depression. i didn’t tell you ‘cause i didn’t wanna look weak. pathetic, right? i feel pretty weak right now.”

you look over at him, already wanting to cry all over again. you should have seen the signs. right now, they are so glaringly obvious- the detachment, the avoidance, the drinking….

“and i miss you more than anything.” he says. “i wish i just… talked to you more. even if its your shitty knock-knock jokes.”

you’re crying, but you do scoff a little, holding his hand. “my knock-knock jokes are not stupid.”

“knock knock.” he says.

“who’s there?”

“i still love you. and thats the worst part about all these damn parties… you weren’t there. i don’t care about parties if you’re not there.”

that might have been the most sober thing he’s said all night.

you don’t say anything, not ready to forgive. but you do place a kiss to his cheek before driving him home.

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a few days later, katsuki shows up to your house at 9 o’clock sharp- a new record considering the recent events. he called in advance, but your heart still skips a little when you open the door and motion for him to enter.

the bags under his eyes have reduced. he’s nor slurring his words, and he’s not snapping at all. he seems… better.

“i uh… brought you coffee.” he says, awkwardly handing you the cup. “i got you some sugar and creamer, cause i didn’t know how you like it.” he shoves his hands into his pocket and takes out the packets.

“katsuki, i have that all here.” you almost laugh at his nervousness. its clear that this has taken a hold on him. as he sobers, he feels the need to rebuild himself again.

“right, sorry, smartass.” he says, he sounds like an asshole, but its a nickname you’ve both grown used to.

physically, he seems like he’s finally gotten some rest. on the inside, however, you can see the turmoil in his eyes. he had spent weeks drunk on distractions. now, he’s facing all the things he’s fucked up.

you think back to what he said in the car. about his diagnosis, about his struggles. you wonder just how long he’s been feeling that tv static in his head, how long he’s been bullying himself. you wonder how strong his demons are, how they’ve got hands and how he was struggling to fight them.

it breaks your heart.

“i… i know what i told you the other night.” he huffs, hands in his pockets. “i remember that much.”

“…why didn’t you say anything?” you dare to utter, wanting to see his pain and wanting to shield him from it.

he pauses, finding the right words. “…i don’t know. i’m a hero, i’m the god damn best. i didn’t wanna look weak.”

“depression isn’t a weakness, kats.” you remind him, that familiar nickname rolling off of your tongue in a way that makes his heart ache. “especially after everything you’ve been through.”

he knows what you mean. the relentless training, the fights, all the times he thought he was going to die. honestly, he didn’t think he’d make it this far. everyday could have been his last.

“it just… hurts.” he admits, wincing at the vulnerability in his tone. “so damn much… like… i don’t know. like i’m trapped.”

his voice cracks at that last part.

“i don’t know what to do. how to deal with this. i just know i’m sick of parties. i’m sick of being away from you. i-“

you cut him off with a hug there, enough to get his eyes misty. he hugs you back instantly, fitting in with you like a puzzle piece. burying his face in your neck, he inhales and lets himself get lost in you.

“you don’t have to know what to do.” you say, stroking his back. “as long as you’re done hurting yourself. i’m here, you asshole.”

you shed a few tears as well as katsuki sobs that he’s sorry. but as you hold him, he admits to himself that vulnerability didn’t kill him- it just brought him closer to you. after days of searching for you at parties, during lonely nights, you’ve got him again.

and he’s never letting you go.

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