#neville

[thepersonalwords]

Spiritual growth is the gradual, I would say, transition from a God of tradition to a God of experience.

Neville Goddard

[how2loa]

HOW2LOA : ignore the 3D !

you have heard coaches tell you to ignore the 3D time and time again but you just can’t seem to be able to ignore the fact that the money isn’t in your bank account yet or that your physical appearance isn’t changing? we’ve all been there. let me help you!

be confident about your decision! say your affirmations with conviction. convince yourself that your visualization is real. if you affirm for ten minutes and then ask why is it not here yet i still see my circumstances well guess what? you’re just reaffirming that your circumstances exist.

literally pretend they’re not there. but if you choose to acknowledge them, think about it this way. why would they even bother you when you know you’re getting everything you want? the whole situation will turn out in your favor anyway so why would you bother worrying about 3D circumstances when you know how the ending will be. its like knowing a secret everyone else doesn’t know.

you don’t have to make yourself feel crazy or feel delusional like you’re lying to yourself, but if you know that you staying consistent with thinking as if and ignoring your circumstances will make them disappear then why wouldn’t you just do that? be patient and stay discipled, if you don’t have it you’re not done. keep thinking as if.

i know that sometimes we are faced with circumstances that we cannot ignore like having to pay a bill. i think what we often get mixed up when we hear the phrase “ignore the 3D” is that we think we have to ignore all circumstances and responsibilities in real life. NO! what you are affirming in your head, does not have to match what you are physically doing in real life. if you want to manifest being a millionaire, going out and shopping like one when you’re earning minimum wage and have bills to pay will get you in debt! do whatever you need to do in the 3D and while doing it, just affirm against it in your head. why would you quit your job to live as if you’re a millionaire when you’re still depending on that job for income in your 3D? that will just stress you out even more because you’re now depending on your manifestation to survive.

not to say you cannot manifest while depending on the manifestation, but there’s no need to put yourself in that position willingly. thinking as if and your actions in the 3D don���t have to match. it doesn’t matter what you’re doing in the 3D anyways since it’ll change in just a second right? so don’t mind what is happening out there and live in the 4D.

circumstances can disappear in a second, just like they appeared. and don’t even worry about the how. there’s infinite ways things can work out the way you want them to, you cannot even fathom all the possibilities. your job is to persist in your desired state, and the 3D must prove you right. it has no choice. unless you waver. so stay consistent and be stubborn until you get exactly what you want.

[fantisyoflove]

Praise Him

"Neville? Neville, sweetheart, what are you afraid of?"

He leaned back into the chair, legs wide. His hands slid down his thighs and he tossed his head back as he groaned,"I want to be good for you"

You straddle his waist and roll your hips against him creating a delicious friction.

"You are good for me." You whisper as you card your fingers through his hair. You grab a fistful of the hair on the back of his head and use it to tilt his face back to you.

"You are such a good boy, Neville." You purr resting your forehead against his.

His eyes narrow in on you. His hips bucked against you at your words and you smirked.

Neville wrapped his arms around your waist and pulls you flush against him.

"Say it again" he sounded utterly gutted.

You lazily run your fingers through his hair again.

"You want to hear what a good boy you are?" You roll your hips against his. His tongue flicks out across his lips and he nods eagerly.

"You want me to tell you you're a good boy?"

Nevilles head is hanging off the back of the chair now, his eyes closed in pure bliss.

"Look at me." You demand and his head snaps up, eyes on you.

"You are such a good boy, Neville. " His hips bucked again and he... he whimpers.

His voice high, keening for you.

You smile wider and you try to stop your hands from shaking as you undo the buttons of his shirt.

"Such a good boy, Neville. Look at you." You get the last button undone and rest your hands on his bare chest for the first time. His skin is on fire.

His hands shoot up and grasp your wrists. Eyes wide and pupils blown wide. He looks completely debauched and scared.

"Let me take care of you my perfect boy." You coo, "my big. Strong. Man." You emphasize each word as you rest your hands under his shirt and slowly push the fabric away.

"I'm so lucky to have you all to myself." You murmur against his neck as you take your time tasting his skin.

He let out a soft whine and you want to give him everything.

You climb off his lap and he huffs in disappointment. You pull him up and begin undoing his belt.

"Look at you doing such a good job."

He steps out of his bottoms and you toss them aside.

You kiss him, letting his cock brush against the soft skin of your belly. Then you drop to your knees.

He makes a choking gasp.

His cock, thick and long, stands at attention for you. You suck in a breath which makes his cock throb.

His cheeks were flaming red. He couldn't take his eyes off of you.

"Is this all for me?" You purr and gently wrap one hand around his shaft. You hold his eyes as you wrap your lips around the tip.

One swirl of your tongue had his knees buckling. You guide him back to the chair and release him so he can sit back down.

"There you go, baby, just like that." You take him again in your hand and mouth.

You slowly ease into a steady rhythm and he is a moaning mess beneath you.

"Uh. Mhhm. Mphemmm." The sounds pour from his mouth while you suck. Your tongue flicking and rolling over more sensitive spots. When his balls start drawing up sharply you slow down and pull off.

Using your hand you lazily stroke his cock.

"Awe. Is my good boy about to cum?" You bat your eyelashes at him as his head lolls back to face you. Beads of sweat have gathered on his forehead and his chest is rising and falling quickly as he tries to catch his breath.

"That's it Neville. Let me see you fall apart on my tongue."

You take him as deep as you can as you keep sucking. His knuckles are white as he grips onto the sides of the chair. His eyes glued to yours as he gasps and bucks.

The sounds coming from him are sinful. You will hear these moans and whimpers forever. Letting this moment replay in your mind again and again and again. Watching him break down completely at your touch.

You pull off one last time making Neville cry out in frustration.

"Cum for me, Neville? Cum for me my good boy. I want to drink you down."

You don't let him respond as you take his cock again.

He is so vocal and his body sings for you. You know right before it happens and you greedily take his cock deep in your throat.

"Fuck y/n yes yes yesss" he whined one hand gripping the back of your head holding you down on his length.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦 & 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐕𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

A/n: would be happy to post a whole smut fic of anyone wants it

Neville Longbottom was a gentlemen.

He was raised to be respectful, patient and Considerate - especially when it came to you, the woman he adored with every fiber of his being.

Which is why is he fully expected your first time with him to be soft and delicate filled with sweet whispers and slow kisses.

He had not, under any circumstances expected it to involve sentient, enchanted vines pinning him to a bed.

Yet, here you two were....and Neville Longbottom was not prepared for this.

It Started Innocently Enough…

You two had been spending the evening together in the greenhouse, where you where tending to some magical flora, completely in your element.

Neville, utterly smitten, had spent the last hour watching you work, your hair falling over your shoulders, the light from the enchanted lanterns giving you an almost ethereal glow.

And when you had finally turned to him, smiling, brushing a bit of dirt off you cheek—

He kissed you.

Soft...Sweet....At first.

Until you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressed your body against his, and suddenly—

The dynamic shifted.

Because you kissed back differently.

Not shy. Not hesitant. But knowing.

Deliberate.

And when Neville’s back bumped against the wooden post of the greenhouse, and you took that moment to flip the positions—

Neville had the sudden, horrifying realization that you were in control.

Which was confirmed when you murmured, in that soft, deceptively sweet voice—

“Let me take care of you, Nev.”

Neville, blinking rapidly, tried to say something intelligent.

All that came out was:

“Oh—oh.”

The Vines. Oh, Merlin, the Vines.

Neville had been so focused on you—your lips, your hands, the way you looked at him like he was the only thing in the world—that he hadn’t even noticed the vines creeping along the greenhouse floor.

Not until they suddenly curled around his wrists, pinning them to the wooden post behind him.

Neville’s brain short-circuited.

“Y/n—?”

You tilted your head, smiling innocently. “Mmm?”

Neville tugged against the enchanted vines, realizing very quickly that they weren’t going anywhere.

“You—you tied me up?”

You, trailed your fingers down his chest, completely unbothered, hummed. “They’re just a little enchanted. You’ll be fine.”

Neville, mouth opening and closing like a fish, stared at you.

Y/n, soft, sweet Y/n—

Had tied him up.

With sentient plants.

Neville, voice slightly higher-pitched than usual, muttered, “Y/n, if you don’t let me go, I swear—”

You leant in, brushing your lips against his jaw.

Neville forgot how to breathe.

“Hmm?” You whispered, barely touching him, teasing.

And that was the moment Neville realized he was doomed.

Later, as Neville lay there, completely wrecked, staring at the ceiling, he slowly turned his head to look at you.

Who, of course, was curled against his chest, looking perfectly content.

Neville blinked.

“Y/m?”

“Mmm?”

A pause.

“…How long have you known you could do that?”

You smirked against his skin.

“Oh, I’ve always known.”

Neville groaned, dragging a hand over his face.

“Oh, Merlin help me.”

Tracing a small pattern to his chest you glanced up at him. "Did you like it."

Voice, still rough, mind still in a fog he slowly nodded his head. "I did."

"Good."

[gorgeous777]

First Time, Neville Longbottom x Fem. Reader

Your boyfriend wants to give you his virginity!

A/N: The following includes praise, p in v, and foreplay.

Enjoy!

__________________________

He wasn't sure what got him here. Maybe it was his hormones. Maybe it was just how pretty you were. Or how safe you made him feel when it came to the uncomfortable stuff. Everything actually, not just the uncomfortable stuff. But, whatever it was, it landed him here. Standing in front of you with a red face, tight trousers, and unbelievably nervously. He'd never had sex before, but he wasn't clueless about it. At least not entirely. With virginity comes some ignorance. Meanwhile, you're sat on your bed looking up at him dumbfounded. Did he really just ask you if you'd be okay with having sex with him? He couldn't read your expression, and he didn't like it.

You blink once, completely dumbfounded. "I.. Okay. Yeah" Your willingness to comply made some of his nerves fade, but certainly not all of them. He nods awkwardly before responding. "Are you sure? I don't want you to feel pressured or anything.." You look up at him quizzically, then letting out a soft scoff and shake your head lightly. "Yes, I'm sure. No pressure, I doubt you even have the heart do something like that Nev." He gives a small, awkward nod. You smack your lips lightly before standing up and stepping close to him. "I suppose we should start off slow, shouldn't we?" His eyes widen at your sudden proximity, but he makes no attempt to move away from you.

"Yeah, yeah. Slow.." He stammers out, raising his hands for a split second before lowering them quickly. He wanted to touch you, hold you, something. But he wasn't sure if that was too fast or not. Especially since you were doing this on his account. Your arms encircle his neck as you press your body to his. His breath hitched at the action and he went rigid momentarily. After another moment of hesitation, his hands came up to gently hold your hips. Your lips meet. At first he's shy, but it doesn't take long for him to try and reciprocate what you're doing. His lips are against yours, and hard. Firmly, nearly bruising. Though, after slowing down and following your lead, it gets better. Soft, and gentle. Sweet, like candy.

His lips feel antagonizingly good against your own. Without realizing it, you've moved to the bed. He's sitting on it, and you're straddling his lap. You don't fully register it, you chose not to. It was better not to ruin the moment. Your hands find their way into his hair, running through it, gripping it. You run your tongue along his bottom lip. A small groan sounds from him as your tongue finally meets his. He was quick to part his lips for you, eager for more. To learn and feel. There's a shift in position again. He's gotten a bit bolder, more comfortable in this mess of your lips. You're pressed up against the headboard and he's on top of you. Words can't begin to describe how warm your body feels beneath him. How good, how right.

Before you knew it, your lips found their way to the corner of his mouth. Kissing hungrily along his jaw then to his neck. When you found his throat, the kisses turned into more. Sucking tenderly on his skin, leaving a trail of dark blossoming hickeys down his neck. For each one you gave, he let out a series of whines and gasps. Such beautiful, needy sounds that spread warm goosebumps across your skin. You're completely enthralled with how vocal he is. How unashamed he is with the pleasure you're bringing him. You try to return your lips to his, but he's quick to mirror your actions. Kissing your jaw and neck, sucking marks into your flesh. Your hands find his hair again, messing it up further. Pulling him in, greedy for more of his attention.

He smells good. Like the greenhouses and shampoo. Heady. It's practically pheromones to you, making you want to drink him in until nothing is left. Unable to take it anymore, your hands find his face and tear him away from your throat. Before he could react, your lips are on his again. Deeply, passionately, hungrily. He reciprocates your kisses with equal ferver. With a puff of air from both of you, you roll over on top of him. His large hands return to your waist and his fingers slide beneath the fabric of your shirt. At some point you break away for air, your breathe no better than trembling gasps. His eyes are blown and his hair is a disaster. Not to mention his heavily flushed cheeks. You imagine you probably don't look much different.

You're straddling him now, just barely hovering above the painfully large tent in his trousers. "Okay.." you let out an exhale, "You've got me worked up now". He swallows thickly as your words sink in, and all he can do is nod at first. His eyes widen as your hands find the zipper of his jumper and yank it down. His chest is heaving by now, and multiple anxieties flood him as you fumble fast hands to unbutton his shirt. He knew he was far from lean, and wasn't overly fond of his chubbiness. Once the fabric was open, your hands slip beneath it and slide it open slowly. Wide eyes marvel at his bare torso, and he swallows nervously. "Beautiful.." You mumble breathlessly, causing Neville to doubt his hearing for a split second.

Before he could voice his doubt, you're already pushing the shirt to his shoulders and pulling it off his arms. "Your turn" you state bluntly, making his eyes widen in horror. His tongue darts out, wetting his lips. After the tiniest bit of hesitation his hands grip the hem of your shirt and pull it off over your head. He sets the article aside, marveling at the sight of your bra. You keep your arms raised above your head, silently ushering for him to take it off you. He reaches behind you, your faces coming into dangerously close proximity as he does. He fumbles a bit, but get the bra unhooked. You lower your arms and shrug the piece off, then simply tossing it aside. He raises his hands, hovering them just above your breasts. His eyes flicker up to your face, hesitancy written all over his expression. "Can I touch you..?"

"As much as you want" His eyes wander back down to your chest as his hands make contact with your bare skin. He cups your breasts gently, his thumbs gently brushing over your nipples and watching as they harden. A small flicker of hesitation crosses him before he just gives into his intrusive thought. His lips make contact with one of your breasts. He trails soft kisses over it, stopping when he reaches your nipple. "I didn't tell you that you had to stop" His eyes instantly flick up to your face, surprise etched all over his own. "This is a part of the act, y'know. Exploring the other persons body. Finding out what they like.." He nods before leaning back in and pressing a kiss to your nipple. It sent pleasant sparks through your body, directly between your legs.

"Do you like that, Y/N?" He asks softly. A small exhale comes from your parted lips. "Yeah.. Yeah, it feels good" Upon your confirmation, he makes up his mind about what to do next. He takes the bud into his mouth and suckles gently. A sharp gasp comes from you at the feeling, your arms instantly going around his shoulders. His mouth was warm and wet. With each suck he gave, a pulse went through your body. A throb of pleasure that only added to the growing wetness between your legs. He pulls away after a few moments, he pulls away and looks up at you almost expectantly. "Was that alright..?" You blink. "Yeah, yes. Definitely. More than alright. That was- Yeah" Although your response mildly confused him, he took it as a good thing. "What next?" His voice is unbelievably soft as he speaks. Unriddled with vulnerability.

"I guess we should.." You exhale, your chest heaving as you did "take off the rest of our clothes" His eyes widen momentarily before he agrees. You slide yourself down his lap a bit to reach his waist. He leans back against the headboard of the bed, propping himself up on his elbows as he watches you unbuckle his belt. His member was painfully hard inside his trousers and creating a large bulge. He swallows thickly once you get his trousers undone. Part of him had doubted it'd actually go this far. Yet here you were. He lifts his hips, making it easier for you to pull his trousers and briefs down his legs. Another wave of heat washes over you at the sight of his bare body. The look on your face kind of scared Neville. "You're staring.." He points out awkwardly, snapping you out of your daze.

"I know I am" Without wasting anymore time, you quickly shed yourself of your bottoms. "Do you want to be on top or bottom?" The question instantly flustered him and he stammers a bit before giving a proper answer. "Which do you want?" You pause momentarily. Guy on top was traditional, first time wise anyway. "You on top" He nods meekly and then you very awkwardly switch places. He stared down at you with nervous eyes. You part your legs for him and hw swallows thickly, his cheeks growing impossibly red. Hesitation was written into his body language. His tongue slips out to wet his lips as he contemplates what to do now. After a moment, he moves closer between your legs as he grabs ahold of his length with one hand.

"Is there somewhere I'm supposed to touch first..?" You nod. "Yeah, the top" He swallows again. Gently, he guides himself to press his tip to your aching clit. You gasp softly, which quickly turns into a low hum as he rubs himself in small circles against you. He let out a small whimper at the feeling. His tip was sensitive and you were so slick.. His body trembled lightly at the unfamiliar pleasure. A few circles later, he moved to press his tip to your throbbing entrance. "Here?" His voice trembled as he spoke. Upon your confirmation, he exhaled shakily. "Can I start..?" His eyes held a look of desperation, and his breathing was far from even. "Please" You voice comes out a whisper that only sent more shivers down Neville's spine. Slowly, he began to push into you. As he does, he lets out a needy whine with his face contorting in pleasure.

Once he's sheathed inside you he pauses, a weak whimper leaving him. He takes a few moments before slowly starting to move his hips. With each gentle thrust he gave, he let out a small whimper or moan. He was a bit tense at first, but seemed to relax easily. His movements became more comfortable, though he was far from rough. His eyes were dark if open at all. So completely unashamedly vocal. Still, not loud enough for to be heard outside the room. You too, let out a chain of your own sighs and noises. They only spurred him on further. After a few minutes his hips suddenly jerked uncontrollably, like he was trying to push deeper into you. His face contorted heavily in pleasure and a small cry left his lips.

It was a sound you definitely couldn't see getting old. Very gently, he pulled out with a weak whine. "Was I okay..?" He questioned through panting breaths. "Yeah.." You manage to respond a few seconds later. He felt like melting. Or as if he legs had suddenly become jelly. Despite it though, he managed to lean down and press a soft kiss to your lips.

"Thank you, Y/N."

[graveyardhorror]

HOW HE PROTECTS YOU

>SUPERSTARS MASTERLIST

➽────────────────────❥

DEAN AMBROSE/JON MOXLEY

-He's like a watchdog, always looking out for any potential dangers

-He takes pride in being able to keep you safe from any possible threat, from to verbal to physical trust that he is very much capable

ROMAN REIGNS

-Another watchdog, are we surprised? no, will never let anything/one hurt you

-The type of boyfriend to always put your safety and comfort above his own, just let him know your uncomfortable and he'll take care of it

SETH ROLLINS

-Never afraid to stand up for you or a complete stranger, kind and compassionate

-He is someone who always does what is right, he will definitely treat you well and ensure you feel safe at all times

RANDY ORTON

-Very loudly and proudly a protector, he knows boundaries and enforces them

-Your boundaries will always be respected when he's around, helps you stand up for yourself and be more confident

FINN BALOR

-Has great intuition and somehow always knows when there is potential danger around

-The amount of times he's gotten you out of uncomfortable/ unwanted situations before they escalated is high, he's always there to protect you

NEVILLE/PAC

-Very confident in his ability to keep you safe, always calm

-You now have scary dog privileges lol, he tends to act as a shield for unwanted advances, scary situations and he's happy to help keep you safe

➽────────────────────❥

[moon-lit-petal]

Believe Me

Neville Longbottom x Fem!Beauxbatons!Reader

Summary: 5 times Dean and Seamus don't believe Neville and the time He proved them wrong.

Warning: not proof read, possibly not so nice friends, Neville being totally in love.

Word Count: 5k

Notes: this takes place when they are much older, I'd like to think that moldy V doesn't exist and the triwizard tournament happens much later in their hogwarts career :) I tried to keep it as ambiguous

----------

The Gryffindor common room was a cozy haven, illuminated by the flickering flames of the fireplace that cast warm shadows on the maroon and gold walls. A rowdy bunch of Gryffindors lounged comfortably on the oversized sofas, laughter and chatter filling the air as they reminisced about their latest escapades at Hogwarts.

"Honestly," Ron said, a frown spreading across his face, "I don’t know what’s worse—having a crush or trying to figure out what to say when you actually talk to them!"

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Tell me about it. I thought I was doing well with Cho until I accidentally called her 'Hermione' in the middle of a conversation!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, a playful smirk on her lips. "That’s not going to help your case, Harry."

The boys erupted into laughter, the sound bouncing off the stone walls. Dean leaned back, his arms behind his head, a hint of frustration in his voice. "I can’t even get a proper conversation going. It’s like every time I try to flirt, I end up sounding like a complete idiot."

Seamus snickered. "Remember when you tried to impress that girl from Slytherin with your 'amazing' Quidditch skills? You barely made it through the first sentence!"

"That was one time!" Dean retorted, though he couldn’t suppress a sheepish grin.

Just then, Neville spoke up with hesitant confidence.

"I mean, dating isn't that hard when you're with the right person."

The room fell silent, a few eyebrows raised in curiosity. Ron snorted, breaking the stillness. "No offense, Neville, but what do you know about dating? You've never had a girlfriend before, right?"

With a half-hearted shrug and a giddy smile, he looks at his friends. “Well actually, I've been dating this girl for a little while now.”

"Wait, who is she?" Harry asked, genuinely curious.

"She’s from Beauxbatons!" Neville said, his voice gaining confidence. "Her name is Y/N. She’s really nice, we met over the summer when she was visiting some family”"

Seamus squinted skeptically. "A Beauxbatons girl? Come on, Neville, that sounds a bit too good to be true."

Hermione frowned, clearly disapproving of the boys’ reactions. "Guys, come on you shouldn't just dismiss him, I'm sure she's a nice girl Neville." She gave him a small smile, Neville could tell she too, didn't believe him

Ginny crossed her arms and chimed in. "Exactly. Just because you lot can’t seem to get dates doesn’t mean you should tear him down."

Ron raised his hands in mock surrender. "I’m not tearing him down! I’m just saying it’s hard to believe. Neville and a girl from Beauxbatons?"

Neville’s face turned a shade of crimson. "I’m serious! We’ve been writing to each other, and she even sent me a few drawings, she does portraits and sent one shed done of herself"

Laughter erupted around the room, the sound mingling with Neville’s embarrassed smile.

Hermione’s expression softened. "That sounds just lovely Neville. Maybe you could show us next time?"

Neville blushed even deeper. "I’m planning to! Well, I was… but they fell in the black lake the other day and got ruined..”

Seamus grinned. "Well, that's just a bloody shame, isn't it?”

"I swear! I'm not lying!!" Neville replied, sounding both desperate for someone to believe him and annoyed they would think he'd lie about something like this, to begin with.

Ginny smirked. "It's ok Neville, we believe you really."

The boys continued their good-natured teasing, but Hermione and Ginny shot them looks that conveyed they should ease off. Gradually, the teasing softened, and Hermione quickly sought to change the subject.

"So, what about that new potion Professor Snape was on about?" she suggested, her smile brightening, and at the mention of Professor Snape everyone groaned out a whine.

The conversation shifted effortlessly as they delved into tales of misadventures in Potions class, leaving the topic of girlfriends behind, at least for the moment. Laughter filled the room once more, but Neville couldn’t help but shake his head at his friends. He knows they mean well, and as long as he knows he's telling the truth, then they'd eat their words eventually

----------

The greenhouses were buzzing with the sound of shovels scraping soil and the occasional screech from a particularly unruly Mandrake. Neville Longbottom, expertly handling a Venomous Tentacula with gloved hands, chatted absently with Ron as they worked together.

“I was talking to Y/N the other day,” Neville said, his tone casual as he patted down the soil around the plant. “She gave me some really good advice on how to deal with these sorts of plants. Apparently, they grow some massive ones in the Beauxbatons greenhouses.”

Ron looked up from his struggle with his own plant. “Oh yeah? Beauxbatons, right?”

Neville nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, she said they have this whole section dedicated to magical flora that we don’t even study here. She told me about this method they use to calm them down, so they don’t snap at you when you get close.”

Hermione overheard and looked over, curiosity piqued. “Really? I’d love to read up on that. Beauxbatons must have a fantastic Herbology program. Did she mention any specific techniques?”

Neville smiled. “Yeah, something about using lavender essence mixed with dragon dung fertilizer. It keeps them relaxed but still healthy. I’m thinking about trying it on one of the plants here.”

Ron gave him a sideways glance, his expression caught between amusement and doubt. “You’ve got an answer for everything these days, don’t you, Neville? Y/N’s always helping you out, eh?”

“Well, she knows a lot about Herbology,” Neville said earnestly. “We talk about plants all the time.”

Harry, busy with his own re-potting, chuckled softly. “Sounds like you two have a lot in common, Neville. It’s nice to have someone who shares your interests.”

Hermione nodded in agreement. “Exactly. And Beauxbatons is known for their magical plants, so it’s not surprising she’d know a lot. What else has she taught you?”

Before Neville could respond, Seamus, who was struggling with his own plant a few tables away, joined the conversation. “Wait a minute, are we still talking about the mysterious Beauxbatons girlfriend? You’ve got to admit, Neville, it sounds a bit too good to be true. A French girl who’s an expert in magical plants? What are the odds?”

Dean snorted in amusement. “Yeah, Neville, no offense, but you talk about her like she’s perfect. She’s beautiful, smart, loves Herbology… I’m starting to think you’ve been reading too many romance novels.”

Neville flushed, but he shook his head. “No, it’s not like that. She’s real, I promise. She just… understands me. We have a lot in common.”

Ron patted Neville on the back, grinning. “We believe you, mate. It’s just hard to imagine someone who’s basically a Herbology goddess and happens to be your girlfriend. We’ll believe it when we see her.”

Harry, who had been silent for most of the exchange, gave Neville an encouraging smile. “Well, I’m sure she’s real, Neville. It’d be great to meet her one day.”

Seamus, however, couldn’t resist another quip. “Maybe she’ll show up with a rare magical plant to prove it, eh?”

Neville forced a smile but didn’t push the subject further. He knew they didn’t mean to be harsh, but it was clear that, despite their friendly tones, his friends still had their doubts about Y/N. He returned to his work, focusing on the plants.

----------

It was a typical morning in the Great Hall, sunlight streaming through the tall enchanted windows, casting golden beams across the long tables filled with Hogwarts students enjoying their breakfast. The scent of fresh bread, eggs, and pumpkin juice filled the air. Chatter echoed from all sides, students murmuring about Quidditch matches, homework assignments, and weekend plans.

Neville sat at the Gryffindor table, absently pushing his scrambled eggs around his plate. His thoughts were far from breakfast. He had been waiting for weeks now—hoping for a letter or, even better, a package from Y/N.. Their relationship had been going strong, though the distance often made it difficult. But lately, he'd mentioned her so many times that his friends had begun to give him knowing looks, and their teasing, though lighthearted, always made him feel a little self-conscious.

“Oi, Neville! You alright, mate?” Seamus Finnigan asked, nudging him gently. “You’ve been staring at those eggs for ten minutes. Something on your mind?”

Neville smiled faintly, trying to shake off his nervous anticipation. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… waiting for the post.”

At that moment, as if on cue, the familiar sound of wings fluttering through the air filled the hall. Dozens of owls soared through the enchanted ceiling, delivering letters and parcels to their waiting owners. Neville’s heart raced as he scanned the sea of wings, hoping to see something special. And then he saw it—a stunning, silvery owl with long, elegant wings gliding toward him, catching the light as it flew. It was unlike any owl he’d ever seen at Hogwarts.

The owl swooped down gracefully, landing right in front of Neville with a soft hoot. In its talons was a thick package wrapped in delicate lavender-colored paper, sealed with the distinctive wax crest of Beauxbatons. Neville’s eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, he just stared at the package in his lap, hardly believing it.

“Blimey, Neville,” Ron said from across the table, his eyebrows raised. “That’s a fancy delivery.”

“Is that… from your girlfriend?” Hermione asked, looking at the package curiously.

Neville nodded, trying not to look too pleased. “Yeah, it’s from Y/N.”

His friends exchanged glances, but there wasn’t any teasing, just mild surprise. Neville had spoken about Y/N often, but she seemed almost like a mythical figure to them—this beautiful, mysterious girl from France whom none of them had ever met.

“That’s some owl she’s got,” Dean commented, leaning over to get a better look at the package. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one like that.”

Neville nodded again, feeling a bit self-conscious under their gazes. “She mentioned it once. Said it’s a rare breed from France. She’s… pretty proud of it.”

Seamus grinned. “Well, go on then, mate. Open it! Let’s see what she’s sent you.”

Neville hesitated for a moment, feeling all eyes on him. He knew they weren’t trying to be skeptical or mean, but he could sense the curiosity behind their words. His friends had never outright doubted him, but it was clear that after months of hearing about Y/N and not seeing any proof, they were a bit… unsure. Still, there was no mockery in their faces—just genuine interest.

With a deep breath, Neville carefully broke the wax seal and unwrapped the package. Inside was a beautifully embroidered scarf in the deep blue and silver colors of Beauxbatons, along with a folded letter. The scarf was soft, clearly handmade, and it smelled faintly of lavender.

“Wow,” Hermione said, leaning in closer. “That’s lovely, Neville. She made this for you?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Neville said quietly, running his fingers over the delicate stitches. “She’s been learning how to embroider. I, um… mentioned I needed a new scarf for winter, and I guess she remembered.”

Ron nodded appreciatively. “That’s impressive. Not many people make things like this anymore.”

Harry smiled from beside him. “Looks like she really cares about you, Neville.”

Neville smiled, feeling a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the scarf. It felt good to hear that—not just because it was true, but because it seemed like, for once, his friends weren’t doubting him.

But then Seamus, ever the joker, raised an eyebrow and smirked. “You’ve got to admit, though, Neville—it’s almost too perfect. A hand-embroidered scarf? From a Beauxbatons girl who sends you packages by a rare French owl? It’s like something out of a storybook.”

Neville laughed, shaking his head. “I know it sounds a bit… unbelievable, but I swear it’s true. She’s real.”

Dean, who had been eyeing the letter, grinned. “Well, if she keeps sending you things like this, we’ll start believing in miracles.”

Hermione shot Dean a disapproving look, but Neville chuckled along with the others. It wasn’t mean-spirited—they were just having fun. He didn’t mind the light teasing, especially now that he had proof to show them. And even if they found it hard to believe, they weren’t questioning him outright, just amused at the unlikely situation.

“That’ll be the day,” Ron said with a grin, though he quickly added, “But hey, She sounds great.”

Neville folded the scarf carefully and slipped it into his bag, feeling a little lighter. “She is.”

As the conversation shifted back to Quidditch and schoolwork, Neville glanced down at the unopened letter in his hands. He could read it later, in private. For now, he felt content knowing that, whether his friends believed him or not, Y/N was real—and she cared about him enough to send something as special as this.

Even if they still found it hard to imagine, that was enough for Neville. And maybe, just maybe, one day soon, his friends would get to meet her and see for themselves that she wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. But until then, he’d hold on to the scarf, the letter, and the quiet certainty that she was thinking of him as much as he was thinking of her.

----------

The Gryffindor common room was quieter than usual, the usual hustle and bustle replaced with a mellow atmosphere as the school year drew to a close. Most of the students had already packed their things, their trunks neatly stacked and waiting by the fireplace. The chairs around the room were occupied by groups of friends chatting, playing games, or simply lounging around, savoring the last few moments before heading home for the summer.

Neville sat with Seamus, Dean, and a couple of other Gryffindors near the windows, gazing out at the grounds. The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow on the stone walls.

“I can't believe the year’s over already,” Dean said, leaning back in his chair. “Feels like we were just getting back from Christmas break.”

“Yeah, crazy,” Seamus agreed, his tone relaxed. “But I’m not going to miss the essays.”

Neville, absently fiddling with his wand, smiled. “I was telling Y/N about how busy it’s been. She’s had a lot going on too. The end of the year at Beauxbatons is apparently just as hectic as here.”

Seamus shot him a quick glance, his expression neutral, though Dean exchanged a brief look with him. “Y/N, huh?” Seamus said, not missing a beat. “Sounds like she’s got it rough over there.”

Neville nodded, completely unaware of Seamus’s inner skepticism. “Yeah, she’s been swamped. But we’re planning to meet up over the summer. She might even come to England for a bit.”

“That’s great, mate,” Dean chimed in, his voice casual though he raised his eyebrows slightly.

Neville stood up suddenly as if remembering something important. “Oh no! I forgot to pack my Astrronomy textbooks. I’ll be right back.”

With that, he hurried off to his dorm room, leaving the rest of them sitting there. The moment Neville was out of earshot, Seamus turned to the others with an exaggerated sigh.

“Alright,” Seamus said, leaning forward. “I like Neville, you all know that, but I’m telling you, there is no way Y/N exists.”

Dean grinned, leaning in as well. “You’re still stuck on that?”

Seamus shrugged, but the look on his face said he was convinced. “Come on, Dean. You’ve heard him talk about her for months—perfect French girlfriend from Beauxbatons who just happens to love magical plants as much as he does? I mean, sure, it could be true, but she’s never sent a picture, she’s never visited Hogwarts, and the only proof we’ve got are a few letters that could be from anyone.”

One of the younger Gryffindors, who had been listening in, piped up. “So, you think Neville’s lying? He doesn’t seem like the type to make something like that up.”

Seamus shook his head quickly. “No, I don’t think he’s lying, not really. I think he believes it. But I’m just saying—it sounds like he’s being catfished. It’s not like he’s met her in person since they started writing. For all we know, it could be some bloke from Durmstrang having a laugh.”

Dean chuckled. “You reckon someone’s really going that far to mess with Neville? That’s pretty dedicated.”

Seamus leaned back, his arms crossed. “Look, I’m not trying to be mean. I just don’t think she’s real. Or if she is, maybe she’s not exactly what Neville thinks. It’s just a bit… convenient, isn’t it? All these grand stories, but no one’s ever seen her.”

One of the girls nearby, who had been half-listening, frowned. “But Neville doesn’t seem like he’s making it up. He talks about her like she’s the real deal.”

“I know, that’s what makes me feel bad about doubting him,” Seamus admitted. “But you’ve got to admit it’s a bit suspicious. Every time she’s supposed to visit, something comes up. She’s ‘too busy,’ or ‘there’s something going on at Beauxbatons.’ It’s been almost a year and still no sign of her.”

Dean raised a hand to stop Seamus. “Alright, alright. But what if she is real and just… busy?”

Seamus snorted softly, though his tone was lighter. “Then she’s the busiest girlfriend in the world. Look, I’m not saying I’d tell Neville to his face that I don’t believe her. The poor bloke would be crushed. But between us… I just don’t see it.”

There was a brief lull in the conversation, and Seamus’s words hung in the air. The group seemed divided—some more skeptical, others wanting to believe in Neville’s story.

“Maybe she’ll surprise us,” one of the younger students said. “Maybe she’ll show up next year and you’ll all feel silly.”

Seamus grinned, though his expression remained doubtful. “If she shows up, I’ll buy Neville a drink. But until then… I’m betting we’re in for another year of stories about a girl we’ll never meet.”

As they laughed and talked, the door to the boys’ dormitory creaked open, and Neville came back down the stairs, his arms full of books.

“Found them,” Neville said, smiling as he returned to his spot by the window. “I almost forgot the Mooncalf studies Y/N recommended too.”

Seamus caught Dean’s eye but quickly smiled at Neville. “Glad you found everything, mate. All set for the summer, then?”

“Yeah,” Neville said, sitting down and looking a little wistful. “Just can’t wait to see her.”

Seamus nodded, his tone friendlier now. “Hope it all works out, Nev.”

As the conversation moved on to other things, the quiet skepticism lingered, but none of them had the heart to say anything to Neville directly. As much as they doubted Y/N’s existence, they couldn’t bring themselves to crush Neville’s enthusiasm. They just hoped, in their own way, that somehow, Y/N would turn out to be real after all.

----------

The Hogwarts Express rattled along the tracks, carrying its excited students back to school for another year. Laughter, chatter, and the occasional call of a vendor selling sweets filled the air as students reunited after the summer holiday, exchanging stories and catching up on the latest news.

In one of the compartments, Neville sat with Seamus, Dean, and a few other Gryffindors, a wide grin on his face as he animatedly recounted his summer adventures.

“… and then we went to this amazing garden in Kew! She couldn’t believe how many magical plants were hidden in plain sight. I’ve never seen her so excited,” Neville said, his eyes sparkling as he spoke about Y/N for the umpteenth time since they’d boarded the train.

Seamus leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, nodding along. “That sounds pretty great, Neville. So, you finally got to go on a proper date, huh?”

Neville beamed. “Yeah! We went on a few, actually. We had the best time. She was in London visiting her family for a couple of weeks, so we got to meet up almost every day.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, curious. “You said she was visiting family before, right? Didn’t she have plans to stay longer?”

“Yeah, she did,” Neville admitted, his tone dropping slightly, “but something came up. Her family had to leave earlier than expected, so she didn’t get to meet you guys like we’d planned.” He looked apologetic as he said it, clearly disappointed that his friends hadn’t been able to meet Y/N again.

“That’s too bad,” Dean said, sharing a glance with Seamus. “We were looking forward to it.”

“Yeah, me too,” Neville sighed, but then perked up again. “But we did take loads of pictures! I wanted to show you all, but… uh…” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “She took the photos with her by accident when she left. We were using her camera, and she packed it with all her stuff.”

Seamus blinked, his expression carefully neutral. “So, no pictures?”

Neville shook his head, he saw the clear skepticism beneath Seamus’s question but brushed it off. “No, but she’s going to send them by owl as soon as she can. She promised. There were some really good ones too—us in front of the Leaky Cauldron, at Kew Gardens, and a few near the Tower of London. I can’t wait to show you all.”

Seamus exchanged another glance with Dean, a small smile tugging at his lips, though he kept it from looking too patronizing. “Sounds like it was a great time, mate.”

“Oh, it was,” Neville said earnestly. “Y/N’s amazing. We even talked about coming up with ways to visit more often during the year. Maybe meet up during the Hogsmeade weekends. I’m going to send her a letter as soon as we get back to Hogwarts.”

Seamus nodded along, though his smile faltered slightly. “Yeah, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Dean shifted in his seat, glancing out the window for a moment before leaning forward. “So, Neville, you said her family comes to London often, right? Does she have a lot of family here?”

“Her dad’s English,” Neville explained. “Her mum is French, so they stay over there most of the time but they come back to visit every summer, and sometimes during the holidays. That’s how we managed to spend so much time together.”

Dean nodded slowly, while Seamus leaned forward just a little. “And you didn’t think to borrow one picture, maybe a keepsake for yourself?” he asked lightly. There was no malice in his voice, but there was an unmistakable undertone of doubt.

Neville ignored it. “I didn’t need to. We’ve been writing so much, and she’s going to send the pictures soon. Besides, I’ve got her letters, and I brought back a few things we picked up together. Look.” He pulled out a small, intricately woven bracelet from his bag. “We got these matching bracelets from a little magical shop near Diagon Alley. Hers has a charm for luck, and mine’s for protection.”

Seamus studied the bracelet for a moment before leaning back. “That’s nice, Neville.”

Dean smiled at the bracelet, genuinely trying to be supportive. “Yeah, it looks great. You two must’ve had a good time.”

“We did,” Neville replied, relaxing now that he was surrounded by his friends. “She’s just… brilliant. I really wish you could’ve met her. I know you’d all get along.”

Seamus offered a friendly smile, though his eyes flickered with doubt. “Yeah, maybe next time, Neville.”

The compartment grew quiet for a moment, and the sound of the train clacking along the tracks filled the space. Outside, the countryside whizzed by in a blur of green fields and distant hills, and the feeling of excitement for the new school year was still palpable.

Dean, always the diplomat, broke the silence. “Well, I’m glad you had a good summer, Neville. Hopefully next time, the timing will work out better.”

Neville nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I’m sure it will. She really wants to meet you all. She’s heard so much about you.”

Seamus shot Dean a look, and Dean just shrugged, his face carefully neutral. No one wanted to say it, but the story about Y/N was starting to sound a bit too convenient—another summer gone by, another set of plans that didn’t quite line up. And now, no photos to show for it, either.

But despite their growing doubts, Seamus and Dean weren’t about to crush Neville’s enthusiasm. Not after he had spent the entire train ride practically glowing with happiness. Still, once Neville got up to stretch his legs and grab some snacks from the trolley, Seamus leaned toward Dean with a raised eyebrow.

“So… still no Y/N, huh?”

Dean chuckled quietly. “Still no Y/N.”

“I swear, if she’s real, I’ll eat my own shoe,” Seamus muttered under his breath. “Every time he gets close to introducing her, something comes up.”

Dean glanced out the window again before replying. “I don’t know, Seamus. Maybe she’s real, but there’s just bad timing. Or maybe…”

“Maybe she’s in his head,” Seamus finished, his tone soft but resigned. “I just don’t get how one person could have this much bad luck when it comes to us meeting her.”

Dean shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “At this point, I just hope for Neville’s sake that she’s real. You can see how much he cares about her.”

“Yeah,” Seamus sighed, leaning back in his seat. “I hope so too.”

When Neville returned with a handful of Chocolate Frogs and a Butterbeer, his smile was as bright as ever, blissfully unaware of the quiet conversation that had just passed between his friends. And as the Hogwarts Express continued its journey, his thoughts were already on the letters he’d be sending to Y/N once they arrived at school.

----------

The atmosphere in the Great Hall was buzzing with excitement. The start of a new school year always brought surprises, but this time, there was something different in the air. The students were seated at their house tables, eagerly awaiting the feast, when Professor Dumbledore rose from his seat to address the hall.

“Welcome, students, to another year at Hogwarts!” Dumbledore’s voice echoed throughout the room, immediately capturing everyone’s attention. “I am particularly pleased to announce that this year, we will be hosting a most extraordinary event… the Triwizard Tournament!”

A murmur spread through the hall, rippling with whispers and shocked expressions. Neville, seated at the Gryffindor table with Seamus, Dean, Harry, Hermione, and Ron, exchanged confused glances with the others.

“Triwizard Tournament?” Dean muttered. “That wasn’t in the usual announcements.”

“Yeah, didn’t see that coming,” Seamus added, leaning in to hear more.

Dumbledore continued, explaining the rich history of the tournament, how it had been revived, and the prestigious honor of being chosen as a champion. Then, with a wave of his hand, he motioned to the entrance of the hall.

“And now, may I introduce our esteemed guests from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and Durmstrang Institute.”

The heavy doors at the end of the hall swung open, and the students of Beauxbatons Academy entered. They moved with grace and poise that captivated everyone, wearing their sky-blue silk robes as they marched in perfect unison. Neville’s heart raced as he scanned the group, but he couldn’t spot Y/N among them.

“Who are they?” Harry asked, squinting to get a better look.

“I don’t know,” Hermione replied, intrigued. “But they look amazing.”

“They’re all so… elegant,” Ron said, trying to take it all in. “Do you think they’re all that good-looking?”

“Probably,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes playfully.

As the Beauxbatons students completed their entrance, Neville’s heart dropped when he didn’t see Y/N. Just when he thought he might be imagining things, she stepped forward, performing acrobatic flips and graceful spins, her hair flowing behind her like a cascade of river waves. She looked more stunning than Neville could ever have described.

“Bloody hell, who is that?” Dean whispered, eyes wide in disbelief.

Seamus was staring, frozen in place. “No way…”

When the introductions were done, Neville leaned closer to his friends. “That’s her! That’s Y/N!”

Harry raised an eyebrow, glancing between Neville and the group. “Wait, who’s Y/N? Which one?”

Neville pointed toward Y/N, who was beaming with joy alongside her classmates. “The one in the front! I didn’t know she was coming!”

The others turned to look, their expressions shifting from curiosity to disbelief. “No way!” Ron exclaimed, glancing at Neville. “You weren’t joking about her being real?”

Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. “She’s absolutely brilliant!”

Before anyone could say another word, a voice called out from across the hall.

“Neville!”

Neville’s head snapped up, and there she was, weaving through the crowd, her face lighting up when she spotted him. “Y/N!” he breathed.

The next thing he knew, Y/N was rushing toward him, a wide smile on her face. “Neville!” she called again, and in an instant, she was there, throwing her arms around him.

Without hesitation, she began planting kisses all over his face—on his cheeks, forehead, and nose—her laughter bubbling up as she clung to him. “I’ve missed you so much!” she said between kisses.

The entire Gryffindor table stared in stunned silence. Seamus’s mouth was hanging open, while Dean could only blink in disbelief. All around the hall, students who had been casually talking or laughing stopped to watch the unexpected display. Whispers started spreading like wildfire, but Neville didn’t care—he was too overjoyed, too caught up in the moment.

“Y/N!” Neville finally managed to say, his face flushed from the attention. “I—I missed you too! I didn’t know you were coming! Why didn’t you tell me?”

Y/N giggled and pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her hands still resting on his shoulders. “I wanted to surprise you, silly. You should’ve seen your face when I came in!” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

Neville was too overwhelmed to respond properly. His heart felt like it was about to burst from happiness. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, grinning ear to ear.

“I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere,” Y/N said softly, wrapping her arms around him again in a tight hug.

The Gryffindor table was still frozen in place, watching the entire scene unfold with wide eyes. Seamus finally found his voice and leaned toward Dean, whispering, “Well… that is not what I expected at all...”

Dean shook his head in disbelief. “You’re not the only one, mate.”

Y/N finally pulled away from Neville, her smile never fading. She glanced around at his friends, who were still recovering from the shock. “You must be Neville’s friends,” she said brightly, offering them a cheerful wave. “It’s so nice to finally meet you all!”

“Y-Yeah, we’ve heard… a lot about you,” Dean stammered, offering a friendly, albeit awkward smile.

Y/N laughed, completely oblivious to the lingering disbelief. “I hope all good things!”

“Definitely,” Seamus managed to say, shooting Neville a look that was a mixture of awe and apology. “Welcome to Hogwarts, Y/N.”

As the rest of the Great Hall resumed their chatter, Neville stood there with Y/N by his side, his face glowing with pride. After a year of doubt, teasing, and skepticism, here she was—real, vibrant, and wonderful.

For once, Neville didn’t need to say anything. His friends finally believed him.

[heavenangelly]

Nothings really stopping you from getting your desire except for you. You choose to not accept it as done and fight the 3d every 5 seconds instead of just enjoying it in imagination. If you are still thinking like, “well I NEED it in the 3d!! Imagination is the going to cut it!” You have no understanding of the law. You have to accept it as yours in imagination in order to get it. You have to change yourself to be what you desire to be and accept it as done/yours ALREADY. Imagination creates EVERYTHING and if u still think like what I said above, you’re destined to fail. Everything around u is imagination and yourself. You have to understand that you cannot get anything physically that you haven’t given yourself mentally.

[mysweetcrona]

Jerking off Virgin!Neville

cw: mommy kink

Jerking off Virgin!Neville, slowly rubbing your hand up and now. His cock lubed up with your spit, “You’re such a good boy.” You coo in his ear. “Doing so good, baby.” You say with a smirk. Kissing his neck and jaw, his soft whimpers and moans fill the room. “So pretty… my pretty boy,” You softly kiss his ear, a loud whimper erupting from his throat. 

“Please..” He whines. 

“Hm? Please what baby?” You grin. He looks over at you, need in his eyes. His brows furrowed up, his mouth open and panting. 

“Need to cum.. Please mommy..” He whines. You give him a soft kiss on his lips, Neville immediately kissing you back hungrily. Moaning into the kiss, desperate for your touch. “I love you..” He moans into the kiss, “Love you so much, mommy. Wanna cum for you... please..” 

You grin, kissing his cheek and pulling away. Looking down at his leaking cock, pulling your hand away and spitting on his cockhead. Immediately wrapping your hand back around his cock, rubbing in your spit onto his shaft. “Good boy, Neville!” You say condescendingly.

 “My pretty boy, so good for me. Gonna cum for me, baby?” You ask with a smile, looking into his eyes. 

He whines loudly at your words, nodding quickly. “God.. Mommy… ‘m gonna cum! Oh my godd! I'm close!” He moans out. His hips bucking up into your hand. 

“Good boy! My pretty boy, gonna cum in my hand? Gonna cum for mommy?” You coo with a grin.

He nods quickly, his thighs quivering and hips bucking. He moans loudly, throwing his head back and immediately looking back down. “Ohh! Mommyy!” He moans, cum spurting out into your hand. 

“Good boy.. Good boy, Neville. My good, sweet boy.” You say talking him through his orgasm. “Good boy..” You look up at his face, he pants trying to catch his breath. His hips bucking up in the aftershocks, eventually you stop touching him and pull your hand off. Hand now covered in his cum, you giggle a bit at the mess he left. Some on his sweater but, thankfully, most landing on your hand. 

He whimpers, immediately overwhelmed by his orgasm, “Mommy…” He whines.

“I’m here baby..” You comfort him. Grabbing the towel you left nearby, you wiped off your hand. You grab his face with your other hand, “You did so good, my sweet prince.” You kiss his face and eventually back to his lips. This kiss a lot softer than the previous one, soft whimpers from Neville. “So pretty..” You say softly.

“I love you so much..” He says, clearly exhausted. 

You smile and brush his now sweaty hair out of his face, “I love you too, baby”

[croholz]

He gives you a look.

Iii Uhh mainly made this for a cool pfp look and also bc I was in the mood for this wonderful man

[longbottomlove]

sick!Neville x reader

poor neville had contracted the flu. there was a bout of it going around the school, and it had caught up to him. 3 days in the infirmary and the sickness hadn’t budged. he missed his friends, he missed his toad, but most of all, he missed you.

neville focused his eyes on the ceiling and let a long sigh out of his one open nostril. he was bored. being cooped up in the firm, springy bed had done wonders for his back. “wonders” as in “made it hurt like nothing else”. he just wanted to get better already.

his thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the infirmary door. madame pomfrey had stepped out, so it could be her, but he had a feeling it wasn’t.

“nev? you in here?”

there it was! your voice! it sounded labored but he didn’t care. the corners of his mouth pulled apart, evidence of the joy pulsing through his body.

he didn’t have time for a response before you pulled back the curtain to his bed. your hair was messed up, beads of sweat coated your forehead and you were breathing heavily.

“i..*gasp*.. ran here *gasp*.. all the way*gasp* from-“

“i get the gist,” neville said, amused that you wanted to see him so bad.

“are you okay? when can you get out of here? i brought your work. and a snack. well it’s for me but-“

“stop, love. i’m okay,” he grasped your arm and tugged it in a motion that said sit. and you did. right beside him. his eyelids were heavy and his hair was covered in sweat. he was not okay. but you let him think he was. arguing with a sick neville got you nowhere.

instead of saying something back, you kept quiet. putting your legs up on the bed, he opened his covers and welcomed you in. and you two stayed like that. enjoying each others company in the quiet of the empty room.

————————

a/n omg my first blurb/one shot / idk what it’s called it was so bad but i promise ill get better over time kk i love you!

[how2loa]

reminder: stop being a victim and replaying the old story. you feel so comfortable basking in the old story because that’s all you’ve let yourself know. embody your new state. who are you? practice living, talking, thinking like your desired version. stop repeating your circumstances, you have nothing to lose anyways. be who you desire to be because you already are them.

[vesora]

all you got to do is sit there and look pretty: loa edition

DISCLAIMER: this was written before a series of realisations, the main point still stands but the subconscious mind does not exist. it is simply awareness. let go and let god.

one thing i have noticed, even in myself, is that we have this need to keep doing something. i need to keep affirming, i need to keep forcing myself into a state, i need to keep focusing on my thoughts or else it won’t manifest. all these thoughts have a common link, a fear of not manifesting, or rather, the 3D not conforming. 

it’s not our fault. we have been primed to think this way. work this hard and you’ll get (x). this is not the way it’s supposed to be. with the law, we break free. 

i need you to know that it’s okay if you’re consciously not thinking from your desire all the time. it’s okay that you don’t feel okay with entering another state if this one is too traumatic for you. relax and know the you on the outside, does not manifest.

who manifests then?

our inner self; our subconscious mind. our subconscious mind is us, but unlike our conscious selves, it is also the Universal Mind, meaning it knows all, it has all knowledge and power stored inside it. our job is to give the subconscious mind a job. as the conscious mind, we hold the key to decide to let what the subcon should manifest and not. we are the guard, we don’t manifest. 

all we really have to do is be still and let God, and by God i do not mean some external being, i mean our subconscious mind; our true self. letting go and detaching doesn’t mean you will stop caring about what you’re manifesting, it simply means that you know that the subconscious will handle it for you. because the subconscious IS you, it’s a robot that only listens to YOUR command. it cannot be influenced by any other force. 

experience 

for the past few days, when i made the unfavourable circumstances post, i was feeling so incredibly awful. i felt i had no reason to live, because i thought me as the conscious sora, was responsible for changing my life. while that is true to an extent, all i have to do is give an order. i told my subconscious mind that night to fix everything for me because i was tired and the next day, all the things that were causing me distress got solved. the next day i had an even better day, because the subconscious really fixed the things causing me stress. life was peaceful again.

it was then i realised that i have been too attached with doing things right, when all i had to do was sit there and look pretty while my subconscious does the work. 

another success happened just now! my browser froze and i didnt save this post. i panicked for a second then i was like “sora you just wrote a post about your subcon fixing things”; so i told my subcon “hey man fix this pls” and it did! lol browser is back to normal which is how ur seeing this post rn

what if my subconscious doesn’t listen?

anything that happens regarding these things is a direct reflection of you. inner creates outer, not the other way around. so, any failure is not because the technique failed, it’s because you haven’t changed self yet. and what changes self? persistence. you must keep persisting because the subconcious HAS NO CHOICE but to listen to you. if it ‘doesn’t’, DON’T ACCEPT IT. 

persistence

And He said unto them, Which of you shall have a friend, and shall go unto him at midnight, and say unto him, Friend, lend me three loaves; for a friend of mine in his journey is come to me, and I have nothing to set before him? And he from within shall answer and say, Trouble me not; the door is now shut, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot rise and give thee. I say unto you, Though he will not rise and give him, because he is his friend, yet because of his importunity he will rise and give him as many as he needeth. And I say unto you, Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. Luke 11:5-9

in this verse that neville also referenced, we can see that the man did not give up. in fact, importunity means: the act of making intrusions, being unrelenting, consistent. unrelenting, he never took no for an answer. he kept going and going and going until the man decided to give him bread. do not take no for an answer. do not settle. even if the door seems shut, you will ALWAYS be the key to open it; there is no other choice. keep telling your subconscious mind that you are rich, you are beautiful, you are everything and your subconscious mind will have no choice but to reflect that onto the 3D because that is its job.

excerpt from power of awareness:

“THERE ARE three principal characters in this quotation, you and the two friends mentioned.

The first friend is a desired state of consciousness .

The second friend is a desire seeking fulfillment.

Three is the symbol of wholeness, completion.

Loaves symbolize substance.

The shut door symbolizes the senses which separate the seen from the unseen.

Children in bed means ideas that are dormant.

Inability to rise means a desired state of consciousness cannot rise to you, you must rise to it.

Importunity means demanding persistency, a kind of brazen impudence.

Ask, seek, and knock mean assuming the consciousness of already having what you desire.

Thus the scriptures tell you that you must persist in rising to (assuming) the consciousness of your wish already being fulfilled. The promise is definite that if you are shameless in your impudence in assuming that you already have that which your senses deny, it shall be given unto you – your desire shall be attained.”

[sweetblinginrose]

stay away from me, lestrange!

(Neville Longbottom x fem¡OCLestrange)

introduction: Morwenna Evangelinne Lestrange was born on October 31, 1980, on a dark and stormy night that seemed to foreshadow her destiny. Daughter of the feared marriage of Death Eaters Bellatrix Black and Rodolphus Lestrange, her arrival into the world was marked by the echo of dark magic and power.

Barely a year after her birth, her parents were arrested and imprisoned in Azkaban for their active involvement in the First Wizarding War. They were loyal accomplices of Lord Voldemort, committing acts of unspeakable cruelty. With her parents behind bars, the guardianship of Morwenna fell to her aunt Narcisa Malfoy, who had also given birth to a son that same year. Thus, Gelinne and her cousin Draco were raised together in the opulent Malfoy Manor, under the strict supervision of Lucius.

From an early age, Gelinne was taught the most elegant and refined manners. Lucius Malfoy insisted that, as a pureblood, she must maintain an impeccable appearance and impeccable conduct. Morwenna’s education was rigorous, designed to instill in her the values and superiority of her lineage.

Over the years, Gelinne grew up alongside Draco, sharing not only their education but also the ignorance of her parents’ crimes. She knew of them only by their names and their portraits, imposing and mysterious figures that adorned the walls of the manor.

Finally, the anticipated moment came to attend the prestigious school of magic, Hogwarts. Alongside her cousin Draco, Morwenna quickly earned the respect of her fellow Slytherins and other students, thanks to her distinguished bearing and innate magical ability.

warnings: It mentions torture, death, bullying, abuse, evil, distress…

words: 2k

a/n: i’m totally in love with Neville, but I feel bad about pairing him with a Lestrange, though it’s also super intriguing. it’ll basically be like a mini-series. basically, this chapter is just setting up what’s coming next.

My main language is not English

masterlist next chapter

━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━

Chapter one: Mandrakes

Morwenna Evangelinne Lestrange came into the world on October 31, 1980, on a dark and stormy night that seemed to foreshadow the destiny that awaited her. Born to the feared Death Eater couple, Bellatrix Black and Rodolphus Lestrange, her birth was steeped in an aura of dark magic and power.

Just one year after her arrival, her parents were arrested and sent to Azkaban, condemned for their crucial role in the First Wizarding War. As devoted followers of Lord Voldemort, they committed unimaginable acts of cruelty, leaving behind a legacy marked by terror. With both parents imprisoned, the young Lestrange was placed under the care of her aunt, Andromeda Black—now Andromeda Tonks—who, having renounced the rigid traditions of the Black family, lived a simple and quiet life with her husband, Ted Tonks, and their daughter, Nymphadora. Thus, Morwenna and her cousin grew up together in the warm and modest Tonks household.

The decision to grant custody to Andromeda was not, of course, Bellatrix’s will but rather a measure imposed by the Ministry of Magic through the Department of Magical Welfare. After careful evaluation, the Ministry determined that the Tonks family would provide the safest and most suitable environment for raising the child. Over the years, Morwenna grew up in a Muggle-influenced setting with touches of magic, surrounded by a harmonious and stable atmosphere that starkly contrasted with her roots. Unaware of her parents’ dark legacy, she only knew their faces from old photographs showing the Black sisters together. She could neither recognize her father nor imagine the atrocities her parents had committed.

Andromeda had spun a vague and convenient tale about her parents’ “deaths” during the devastating Wizarding War. In her account, she avoided specific or uncomfortable details, leaving the girl with an idealized image of her mother as a heroine who gave her life fighting for the greater good. However, what Andromeda did not dare confess—perhaps out of fear or shame—was that Morwenna’s mother was not only alive but had been a devoted follower of the very man her daughter believed had killed her.

In 1991, the same year her cousin Nymphadora graduated from Hogwarts, Morwenna received her own letter of acceptance to the school of witchcraft and wizardry. Her arrival was marked by a moment of uncertainty under the Sorting Hat, which deliberated for some time before placing her in a house. Ultimately, as if her bloodline spoke louder than her upbringing, she was sorted into Slytherin, beginning her own journey within the magical legacy she still did not fully understand.

Despite being placed in Slytherin, Morwenna stood out from the start for being unusually considerate for someone with her lineage. Her cunning and notable intelligence were undeniable, but her balanced character set her apart from the stereotype of her house. During her early years at Hogwarts, she began to interact with her cousin Draco Malfoy, who respected her only for her pureblood status rather than their family connection. He frequently lectured her on how much “better” her upbringing would have been if she had been raised under her mother’s tutelage, surrounded by the rigid traditions of the Black family. Despite her cousin’s criticisms, Morwenna found her own place in Slytherin, forming friendships with several of her housemates. However, her ability to connect with students from different houses made her unique among her peers. Notably, she developed a relationship of respect and eventual friendship with the Golden Trio of Gryffindor. This, unsurprisingly, was not well received among her Slytherin companions, who looked down on her interactions with Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

Morwenna, however, refused to let the opinions of others affect her. What distinguished her, beyond her strategic mind and kindness, was her ability to navigate between different worlds and challenge the expectations placed upon her.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly for her. Despite the challenges of being a Slytherin who defied her house’s norms, she found her place in the school and built relationships that reflected her unique character. It was during her first year that she met a timid and clumsy boy whom her cousin Draco constantly bullied: Neville Longbottom. Draco’s cruelty toward him deeply irritated Morwenna, and one day, she decided to intervene after witnessing one of these episodes.

During a flying lesson, Neville lost control of his broom and ended up precariously dangling from a statue. Morwenna, terrified by the situation, watched helplessly as the boy finally fell to the ground, breaking his arm upon impact. She wanted to rush to help him, but Professor Hooch’s strict orders to stay grounded kept her frozen in place, powerless to act. Concern gnawed at her all afternoon, and she could not rest until the next day, when she finally had the chance to visit him in the infirmary. She was the only one who did so, a gesture that deeply surprised Neville.

“Hello, Longbottom,” the girl greeted in a calm, almost melodic voice, her pristine green robes perfectly tailored, emphasizing her place in Slytherin.

Neville slowly opened his eyes, as if waking from a nightmare only to find himself in another. Recognizing her, a wave of nervousness enveloped him. She wasn’t just any Slytherin; she was always beside Draco Malfoy, like a sharp, dangerous shadow. Her presence could only mean trouble, and with his heart pounding like a drum, Neville clutched the bedsheets desperately, as if they could protect him. “What do you want? Please, don’t hurt me!” he pleaded, his panicked gaze darting around for an escape he knew didn’t exist.

Lestrange recoiled slightly at his reaction. For a moment, her mask of composure faltered. She frowned, her lips forming a slight moue of confusion, tilting her head as if trying to solve a particularly puzzling riddle.

“Why are you reacting like that?” she asked serenely, though a genuine note of curiosity colored her tone. Her eyes studied him closely, searching for answers in his every move. “I just wanted to see if you were okay… after all that.”

Neville, still on edge, felt the air thick with awkwardness. Yet something in her tone—perhaps the absence of mockery or malice—disarmed him slightly. He hesitated for a moment before offering a shy, tense smile, one that failed to completely erase his unease.

“Oh… I’m fine, thanks,” he murmured, his voice barely audible as his fingers fidgeted with the edge of the sheets like a lifeline.

That first encounter marked the beginning of an unusual friendship between Lestrange and Longbottom. Their moments together were small and almost insignificant: quick exchanges between classes, rushed chats while descending staircases, or brief conversations after dinner when the castle’s hallways were filled with echoes and shadows. Yet, these moments became something they both looked forward to, almost without realizing it.

In a matter of weeks, they had developed an improbable friendship, woven through laughter and fleeting comments. Until one day, everything changed.

That afternoon, before dinner, Neville and Morwenna were playing a game of Gobstones at the long Hufflepuff table. The table, situated next to a warm fireplace, seemed like the perfect spot for a friendly game, away from the cold that battered the castle. The pieces crackled slightly with every move, charged with that mischievous magic that made the game such an unpredictable experience.

“Ugh! How disgusting!” Neville exclaimed suddenly, jumping back when the characteristic foul-smelling liquid of the Gobstones splattered on his face. His expression was one of pure disgust as he hurriedly wiped his face with the sleeve of his sweater, wrinkling his nose as if he could banish the smell with a grimace.

In the distance, Harry and Ron were playing wizard’s chess, their shouts of frustration and bursts of laughter filling the air. Although the Great Hall was full of students, the atmosphere was more relaxed than noisy, with scattered laughter and quiet conversations filling the space.

“Why is it always me?” Neville muttered, looking at the pieces with a mix of resignation and frustration.

Morwenna couldn’t help it. The scene was too funny: Neville’s face covered in that disgusting liquid, his expression of absolute defeat… It was just too much for her. A burst of laughter escaped her lips, echoing through the hall and drawing a few curious glances. She leaned back, holding her stomach, her feet dangling from the large wooden bench. She almost fell to the floor, her uncontrollable laughter almost contagious.

Neville looked at her, half-indignant, half-amused, as he tried to regain some dignity. Despite the mess, he couldn’t help but smile a little. There was something refreshing about Morwenna’s carefree laughter, even if it was at his expense.

However, that peace and laughter didn’t last long. The harmony of the moment shattered when Draco Malfoy appeared on the scene, flanked as always by his inseparable cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. The gang moved through the hall with their usual arrogance, their mocking laughs ringing out as a nearby girl ran off, visibly affected by their cruel remarks.

Draco, with his swaggering walk and that smirk that irritated so many, headed straight toward where Neville and Morwenna were. Stopping in front of them, he raised an eyebrow with disdain.

“Huh, what’s a Lestrange like you doing associating with a coward like Longbottom?” he said, as if the idea was so ridiculous it barely warranted his attention.

Neville, who had been wiping his face from the remains of the Gobstones’ foul liquid, stopped dead. His expression immediately changed. The usual nervousness that defined him gave way to something completely different: anger. His hands trembled slightly as he turned his gaze to Morwenna, who was watching him in confusion.

“Lestrange?” Neville repeated, his voice trembling between disbelief and rage. “Is your mother Bellatrix Lestrange?”

The young girl, clearly startled, blinked rapidly. Hearing her mother’s name on Neville’s lips was not something she had expected, and a bad feeling crept over her. With an effort, she kept her tone neutral.

“Yes? Why? Do you know her?” she asked, curiosity in her voice, though there was a hint of unease as she set the Gobstones aside.

Neville stood up from his seat, his fists clenched. His expression, once warm and calm, was now filled with pain and fury.

“Your parents tortured mine!” he suddenly shouted, his voice cutting through the hall and silencing all conversations. Every eye turned toward them, the atmosphere instantly thick with tension.

Morwenna’s face changed. Neville’s words hit her like a misfired spell, leaving her momentarily frozen. But soon, her confusion gave way to indignation.

“What are you talking about!? My parents didn’t do that, you’re crazy!” she exclaimed, slamming both hands on the table as she stood up in front of him. Her voice, usually calm, now resonated with a mix of anger and confusion.

The atmosphere was unbearably tense. Draco, in the background, grinned maliciously, enjoying the spectacle he had caused. Harry and Ron had stopped their game of wizard’s chess to watch, and a few students whispered softly, unable to look away.

“You’re lying! My parents would never do something like that!” Morwenna yelled, pointing a finger at Neville as her eyes blazed with a mix of fury and confusion. Her voice rang out with an intensity that seemed to drown everything else, and more than one student in the hall jumped.

“I’m not lying!” Neville shot back, stepping toward her, his face flushed with anger. “Your parents, Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, used the Cruciatus Curse on mine. They left them broken! There’s nothing you can say to change what they did!”

Morwenna took a step back, not out of fear, but because of the intensity of his emotions. She felt a mixture of disbelief and rage burning inside her, as if every word from Neville was a direct attack on her very identity. “My parents died fighting for what they believed was right!” she shouted, clenching her fists as her voice faltered for a moment before regaining its firm tone. “You have no right to blame me for things I don’t even know happened! It’s easy to talk about things you don’t understand, Longbottom!”

Neville frowned, his eyes filled with a sadness he couldn’t hide. “Right? That’s what they told you? That torturing innocent people is right? That explains why you’re on Malfoy’s side! You’re just like them!”

That comment was the final spark. Morwenna slammed both hands on the table, causing some Gobstones to roll off the edge. “Shut up!” she yelled with such force that the murmur of the hall vanished completely. Her eyes glinted with an intensity that many had seen before, but not in her — in the tales of Bellatrix Lestrange.

With one last frustrated snort, Morwenna grabbed her cloak and turned sharply. “I’m not staying here listening to your lies, Neville Longbottom!” she spat before storming off, her face flushed and her fists clenched.

Draco, who had been standing off to the side, enjoying the show, grinned widely, clearly satisfied. As he passed Neville, he tossed a sharp remark in a tone so loud that the entire hall heard it.

“Good job, Longbottom. Now you’re not just a coward, but an idiot too.”

With a cruel laugh, Draco followed his cousin down the corridor, signaling for Crabbe and Goyle to join him.

Neville stood there, breathing heavily, as the gazes of the other students pierced through him. Harry and Ron quickly approached, but Neville couldn’t hear what they were saying. His mind was trapped in the fight, in the furious face of Morwenna, and in the words he had shouted.

[gorgeous777]

Romantic Maybe?, Neville Longbottom x Fem. Reader

A date gone wrong

A/N: More fluff! This one is kind of shorter than my other works. Sorry guys 😔 @jasperpasta

Enjoy!

________________________

"The weather's been so nice lately" You sigh, slumping against the table you were seated at. Your boyfriend, Neville looked down at you in mild confusion. His brow furrowed slightly, "Is that a bad thing?" You huff at his question, her gaze flickering up to his face. "No, just gonna miss when it goes y'know? I feel like every time the sun comes out I never go feel it" He takes a moment to silently process your words. It had been nice out for the last couple or days. Sunny and warm. It was late Spring too, so the grass was green and comfortable to lay on. He remembered once you mentioned wanting to go on a picnic before. This was the perfect opportunity for him to take you on one!

It'd been a while since your guys' last date. Not to mention he could use this as a double to making one of your wants become a reality. He could try to make it romantic even. At best he felt like a total twat when it came to being romantic. He was awkward and fumbled over himself a lot. But, he did try. He tried hard for you. His attempts were nothing short of sweet. They made you feel special; valued. Which you were so deeply to him. And so, he made his decision: he was going to take you on a picnic. "Neville?" Your voice rang through his ears, drawing him from his thoughts. He hums in response, standing up as he did. Suddenly he just up and left the Great Hall. Which left you confused.

He'd never done that before. Up and leave without any explanation. Nonetheless, you chose not to question it for the time being. He would have a good explanation later. Meanwhile, Neville went off to go formulate his plan. First he'd need a blanket, obviously. Where he'd get one that wasn't off his bed, he didn't know. After a bit of thinking, he concluded he'd ask Hermione for help. So, he went and tracked his friend down. It didn't take very long seeing as she was in her usual spot: the library. Once he had explained what he was trying to do, she more than happily helped out. "Really Neville, this really is sweet of you. Does she know?" He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, "Uhm, no. I'm trying to surprise her. Be romantic, maybe?"

Hermione let out a laugh. "Oh Neville that is! I'm positive she'll positively swoon" After working out a few more things like a basket, food, where to even have the picnic. Though, over the course of the three days it took him to put it all together; you'd noticed a strange behavioral in him. He was more skiddish than usual, in a cute sort of way though. Nonetheless, it sparked some worry within you. Respecting his feelings, you ultimately decide to wait for him to come to you about it. Whatever it was. And he did! Just, not at all what you'd been expecting. "Okay, cover your eyes. Trust me, I promise I won't let you trip" You let out a nervous giggle but did as he asked anyways and covered your eyes with your hands.

His hands gently held your hips as he led your outside of the castle. "Is this what you've been so secretive about the last couple days?" He let out a sound somewhere between a nervous chuckle and a groan. "Maybe? You'll see in a moment" He knew he didn't sound very convincing. In fact he knew that he was being rather obvious. But, point was he was trying. After a bit of walking, he came to a stop and gave your hips a gentle squeeze. "Okay, you can look now" You lowered your hands from your eyes and instantly gasp at the sight in front of you. Though it definitely wasn't perfect, it was cute. And the effort put into shown greatly.

It wasn't perfect like he'd hoped it would turn out. The blanket Neville borrowed from Hermione was laid out, and on it sat enough food for two. The type of Prepackage foods and snack you could buy in Hogesmead. Fizzy pop, crisps, sandwichs and some berries. That kind of stuff. You let out a joyful scream and instantly hug him. "Neville you remembered!" He held you against him and let out a flustered noise when you kissed him. A big smile spread across his face, accompanied by a heavy blush. "I uhm, I tried. It's not-" You cut him off. "No no, it's perfect. I love it. Thank you" He decided against arguing with you and simply nodded in response.

The two of you sit down. "So," You start, but there's a loud crash that startles both of you. Then sudden and heavy downpour. He let out a sharp gasp and you shrieked. Quickly as the two of you could muster, you pick up everything and book it for the castle. By the time you get back inside, the both of you are laughing and soaked go the bone. "Bugger, I'm sorry Y/N" Neville sighed with a furrowed brow. "Whatever for?! That was fun!" Your happy reaction relieved him slightly, but he couldn't help the guilt that ate at him slightly. He bit the inside of his cheek, looking down at you with disappointment. At himself, not you. "I should have asked Professor Trelawney to look into the weather for me, or-"

You again silence him by cupping his face with both hands. "Nev, I promise you that it's okay. I loved the little moment you gave me. The thought was sweet and there. So thank you" A look of surprise fell over him. "You.. You're welcome, Y/N" He mumbled somewhat breathlessly. How you were so kind was beyond him. But, he learned to stop questioning it a long time ago. "And Nev?" He perks up a bit, his hand coming up to hold your wrist. "Yes?"

Without another word, you kiss him.