#diffusion is a force

[rickybaby]

[dark-side-blog3]

What are your favorite sub-genres of horror?

Psychological horror and comedic horror are my favourite sub-genres; Creep (2017), Barbarian (2022), The Watcher (2022), Tucker and Dale vs Evil (2010), and Ready or Not (2019) are some of my favourite horror movies. I love Renfeild (2023) too, but that's really more of an action comedy that happens to have a vampire and gore, no matter what streaming services will try to tell you. But if a meringue is a cookie, then Renfield can be a horror flick. Just barely.

My Bloody Valentine (1987) and its reboot in 2009 with Jensen Ackles are my favourite slasher!

And of course, I'll watch some new stuff from abroad, new extremity, natural disaster horror, death games, splatter, popular new releases, or stuff that gets recommended to me, but if I'm on my own and looking for something, I'll usually pick a psych horror or a horror comedy!

[weirdbabs]

i think if ed didnt have such a fear of confrontation they would diffuse situations the way i do: either blurt out the most random, off topic thing they could think of or, if it was directed toward themself, the most off the wall thing they could say that still works in context

[stubz]

...family, am I right?

was in the mood to read some wholesome/interesting drabbles and one-shots of demon reader interacting with the characters and sadly found less than I was hoping for...so yeah! here's some ideas and stuff for my pleasure and maybe yours too!!

Idea #1 - The trio is called to a village and are very surprised when they find out that their job isn't to kill the demon...but to save it? Y/N, who is a demon and a beloved member of a small village becomes tired of eating nearby travellers and causing so much trouble for the village and starve themselves. Refusing to kill any more innocent people just so that they can live.

The villagers, who love Y/N very much, have no idea how to help them without feeding them human flesh. In a desperate attempt to save them, they call the demon slayer corps pretending that they are in danger only to "capture" Tanjiro, Nezuko, Zenitsu, and Inosuke, demanding that they figure out a way to save Y/N without them killing anyone.

Idea #2 - While travelling back to the Butterfly Estate, Zenitsu hears screams coming from off the road into the forest. Of course, he freaks out and of course, Tanjiro insists that they go check it out and of course, they do...of course. They follow the screams and when the screaming stops they follow the scent Tanjiro picks which smells like 5 people and one demon.

They reach the destination and instead of seeing your standard human and demon interaction; biting faces off, screams of horror and pain, fighting/running for your lives, etc. they see something...surreal. The screams are coming from the people, from the young man being held high in the air by the demon, but they aren't screams caused by pain or horror but screams caused by fear and excitement?

"Y/N I swear to god if you drop me I will put wisteria flowers all over your room!" the adolescent yelped as the demon tossed him a little over their head.

"And I swore that if you ate my food I would throw you into the sun!" they cackled, a cackle not of the malice of a killer but of an elder sibling putting their younger brother back in their place. 5 humans, all alive, and a demon are having what looks like a family picnic under a large willow tree.

Tanjiro sniffed the air and could smell the said food, it smelled homemade, something with a parent's loving touch...it reminded him of his mother's cooking and made him aware of the fact that they missed lunch.

Zenitsu heard a laugh, a soft chuckle one makes when amused and content, and turned to see what looked like the eldest sibling laughing with their partner. Both of their breathing sounded relaxed and at ease...he hopes one day he and Nezuko will be like that.

Inosuke sensed a look of caution and malice on him not from the demon but from the greying man under the tree, looking at him with the same look a mother bear gives a predator when it ventures too close to its cubs.

A family of 6 is having a picnic in the shade of a willow tree while 4 strangers look at them, 3 with shocked eyes and one with sleepy eyes because it's nap time.

Idea #3 - "...are you sure this is the right house Tanjiro? We've been waiting for over 10 minutes and still nothing." whined Zenitsu

"Well, it should be. There are wisteria flowers all over the garden, there's even a painting of one on the garden wall." the boy mused, hoping that they weren't just standing in front of some stranger's house in the middle of the night because of a mistake.

While the two thought about what they should do Inosuke came up with a much simpler solution

"HEY! ANSWER THE DOOR ALREADY!! IT'S LATE AND I'M HUNGRY!" the boar boy screamed while banging on the gate. Immediately a light turned on in the house and less than a minute later the gate bursted open revealing a very dishevelled-looking individual holding a lamp.

"...who the hell do you think you are," they snarled "to bang on my gate, at god knows what hour in the night, and demand that I let you all in and feed you...again in the middle of the night! And what is all this, you some kind of pig boy?"

Tanjiro was quietly thinking of how to apologize. Zenitsu was quietly cursing Inosuke. Inosuke was quietly plotting his attack...until he was just acting it out. An eye-twitch was the only warning his friends got before he tackled the young homeowner to the ground.

"I'M A BOAR NOT A PIG YOU USELESS SERVANT!"

the entire scuffle lasted about 5 minutes, would have been 1 minute but after pulling Inosuke off the stranger they then had to pull them off of him, something about an eye-for-an-eye. Thus having to keep the battle-crazed boar boy away from the insulted and tired homeowner, something that is a 4 person job. Lucklily for them, the homeowner's family showed up and helped restrain them...concerningly they also restrained Inosuke with very little trouble

Also concerningly they smell like demons...and look like demons...and don't like the fact that 3 demon slayers just pummeled their child/sibling to the ground in the middle of the night...well then

[lupismaris]

.

[mpcomagnetics]

Why Does High-temperature Liquefied Iron Nucleus Produce a Huge Magnetic Field?

Bar Magnet Heating Will Lose Magnetism, Why Does High-temperature Liquefied Iron Nucleus Produce a Huge Magnetic Field? The atoms in the magnet are arranged neatly in accordance with certain rules, which is why magnets have magnetic reasons. When heating the magnet, the arrangement of the atom is disrupted and the magnetic is reduced. When heating to 770 ° C, the magnet loses magneticity. Why…

[lizasweetling]

Commendable of the worm to even try and get up after enduring a twist on the chestburster concept, but not to be.

[resizura]

leon being the best in his class as a cop isnt the achievement people make it out to be because cop training is notoriously subpar

[sporksaber]

Writing an essay and trying to figure out various ways to say "but no, because that's a stupid fucking assumption," that are academically acceptable and also get me to my 5 page minimum.

[gallifreyanhotfive]

What Would Have Happened If The Other Doctors Stepped on the "Boom" Land Mine

One: The land mine is diffused by the power of parental love much sooner. Splice and Mundy join the TARDIS team after he decides that Splice will be his next fill-in granddaughter.

Two: Plays the recorder instead of singing. Jamie attacks the ambulance with his knife as soon as it attaches the lines to the Doctor, and it's only Zoe that stops him from getting killed. The detonation happens much sooner because the Doctor gets antsy and plays with the fiddly bits.

Three: Expertly controls his blood pressure to stop a premature detonation. Tries to keep his companion far away, but they discover the land mine anyway. Takes the land mine with him after it is diffused to use for spare parts in the UNIT lab.

Four: "Harry, I'm standing on a land mine." Doesn't bother with a counterbalance and just stands on one foot for the whole episode. Snacks on some jelly babies while waiting for the right moment.

Five: Has an in depth conversation with Nyssa about how he is regulating his biology on a molecular level. They use a cricket ball from the TARDIS as a counterbalance, meaning that he never gets shot or targeted by the ambulance. One of his companions still ends up getting shot, at which point he falls over, immediately self destructs, and blows a giant hole in the planet.

Six: Gets far too irritated for his blood pressure to stay low. Could really do with some of Evelyn's cocoa right about now. The land mine blows up because he cannot calm down enough to disguise his presence.

Seven: A much longer conversation on how the Doctor is a complex space-time event. The countdown finishes, but the land mine doesn't blow because he had disarmed it at the beginning of the episode. The entire time, he was just pretending the land mine was live in order to teach his teenage companion a life lesson.

Eight: Forgets he's standing on a land mine and blows up. Gets into a passionate conversation with his companion about the war industry complex. Soliloquizes about life and death. Almost sacrifices himself in an inferno of self-loathing, but his companion saves the day.

War: His associates go back in time and extract him before he steps on the land mine. This new version of him continues fighting the Daleks while the time echo standing on the land mine is used to blow a hole in the nearby Dalek command ship.

Nine: Has flashbacks to the War while standing on the land mine but somehow manages to stabilize his blood pressure thanks to the presence of Rose and Jack. Jack manages to diffuse the bomb while he is on it thanks to his experience with Villengard tech.

Ten: "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Tries to convince his companion to evacuate as much of the population into the TARDIS as possible because they would be safe there. Almost lets himself blow up, but his companion forces him to find a way to survive.

Eleven: The mine blows up in about ten seconds because he can't stand still. The entire planet is blown to smithereens, but his friends are okay because he locked them in the TARDIS.

Twelve: Gets into mind games with Clara while she is trying to figure out what he is standing on. Clara tries to take his place, but he doesn't let her. Missy eventually shows up and disarms the land mine because she wants to be the one to kill him.

Thirteen: Only manages to stay still because the Fam calms her down. Is oddly stoic about the entire thing and disappears into the depths of the TARDIS for several days after it happens. She never brings it up again even though Yaz tries to get her to talk about it.

Fourteen: God damn it this guy is supposed to be retired. He's supposed to be having a break. He talks about how much he loves his companion and how so, so sorry he is that he can't fix this.

Fugitive: This is a normal Tuesday for her. Probably has some sort of anti-land mine device in one of her coat pockets.

[mtchacffinz]

what a blunder!

prompt!!! Arlecchino personally deals with your unwanted marriage proposal in her own unique way.

content!!! fem!reader x arlecchino, SFW, impatient arlecchino, violence mentioned, marriage proposal, possessive arlecchino

note!!! "Farlahr" is a made up character for the sake of this ficlet. The Doctor here is NOT Dottore. something about arlecchino tweaking and losing a few screws is so hot to me so here you go girls this one is for my strap on arlecchino riders 🙏 im so normal

"He told me that if I consider him as my betrothed, I would be set for life." You smile up at her, albeit nervous. "Huh? Oh— Where are you going?"

Long empty corridors could carry even the faintest whispers. The moon peeks from the shadows, it's serene light softly caressing the harbingers figure— still, quiet, tensed. Her heels clang echoing all throughout the corridor, her gaze that was pinned straight forward seemed to pierce through the thick air surrounding the atmosphere.

Long empty corridors could carry even the faintest whispers, and Arlecchino failed to notice she started to hear her uneven breathing.

Peculiar. Truly peculiar..

"Right this way, Ma'am." Arlecchino set her gaze towards the head butler, greeted with the sight of a tensed figure in return. The head butler winces, stammering on his words. Was she glaring? She doesn't know. That's not important. She's needs to get through the door. "I- I will inform the Master of your arrival—"

"That will not be necessary." Her sultry voice cut through his words. "We have been long collaborators, a reunion shan't wait too long."

Her monochromatic figure heaves a soft breath, looking blankly towards the excessively pretentious door, it's sheer size looming over Arlecchino's figure— the entrance towards an office.

Eloquent and graceful, although her lips were painted with a polite smile, the person before her couldn't tell if the crimson woman was brewing something from within. The Knave was calculative and perceptive, an expert at keeping herself cold despite the scorching flames imbedded within her. The man kept his gaze at the floor, lacking the courage to even contest her gaze.

Those eyes, terrifying crimson hued crosses that could mess with your head tried to dare his optics to even catch a small gaze. Staring into them was ill advised indeed. The butler knew this for his heart was racing, and what added to the cold sweat undeniably trickling in his jaw was that Arlecchino stood unnervingly still— as if contemplating something under deep thought. Before anything could be done, Arlecchino firmly gripped the mansion door's handles in a few momemts, swinging it open with great force.

There had always been an air of nobility in Arlecchino's presence. As soon as she stepped foot into Farlahr's office, the doctor stood up in shock, startled.

"Please, excuse my abrupt visit, Doctor." Arlecchino deliberately spat out the title, a composed smile tugged at her lips. Farlahr's eyes widen at the sight of her monochromatic elegance painting his mansion floors with her presence.

"You're not too busy, I presume? Do let us catch up, I insist— I truly do." It was way beyond the wee hours of the night, the breeze was cold and unforgiving, and the doctor could feel it crawling up his spine. The Harbingers assertive words leave no room for arguments. As if there was an invisible wind from the room, forcing every bit of his movements to bend at her own will.

"I admit that it's quite off fashion to visit at this hour empty handed, Lord Harbinger." The man chuckled in an attempt to disperse the growing tension in the air. He swings his hands— decorated with glimmering stones to mask his nervousness. The woman quickly responded.

"I won't be empty handed for long."

"Pardon, Lord Harbinger?"

Arlecchino doesn't clarify any further, but directs her unwavering gaze to him. Dark, piercing. It was like a warning, a ticking bomb for the doctor to diffuse except there seemed to be no signs of dismissal any time soon.

His crisp smile quickly dropped.

"...I merely jest." Farlahr quickly followed up, as if it was the most amusing joke in the world. Arlecchino doesn't seem to share the same opinion, as her expression stood the same. Whatever The Knave came here for, he doesn't know just yet. And if he fails to catch on, Farlahr just might lose something. His head fell from the deep crevices of his panicked mind falling into one topic he suddenly could bring up as distraction.

With their history of collaborative partnership of 13 years, Arlecchino didn't have a single problem in regards to the business and it's contributions to the House of Hearth. Arlecchino didn't care for his obsessions with women and adulterous activities, the poised lady simply stood her ground due the information the Doctor withheld about the history of medical fallacies and treatments alike.

Arlecchino's rigid gaze quickly looked relaxed, unbothered. Her voice had voice lowered and her arms and legs sit crossed.

"I came here to offer a deal."

"And that is?"

It was no surprise to Arlecchino that Farlahr was a worldly man. Riches to riches, he has re-married at least three times and he's proud of that. Arlecchino didn't bother to comprehend his thought process. She believes that his brain was processed waste ideally converged with multiple nerves. His body reeked of metals, teeth gleaming brightly with silver. She kind of wishes she could rip it all out of his jaw..

"You will retract your marriage proposal." Arlecchino starts, "And I say this, your wealth, status, and people— all safeguarded as per usual."

Farlahr was taken aback by the sudden demand. He doesn't know if her statement stemmed from concern for his safety or a wake up call to his unethical hobbies. The opportunist in him say the opposite, it says that maybe you are some sort of leverage in this world— so valuable that even the 4th Harbinger of then fatui would personally come and abolish his plans of marrying you.

But the curiosity of his consciousness gnaws it's way out of his lips, asking one particular question.

"You disapprove of my wife and I?"

How disgusting. Utterly repulsive. Its almost an offense to your whole existence to be called a wife to someone as repugnant as him. The monochromatic grace managed to suppress her disgust by responding in a more poignant tone.

"Ah, forgive me." Arlecchino very slowly tilts her head, eyes unblinking. She effortlessly stands up from her seat, her coat elegantly swaying with her refined and poised movements, breath light as a feather— a shadow cast on her face.

"But I don't disapprove of your proposal, pig." In a moment, there was a switch in her tone. Her pointed high heels shoes dragged themselves against the expensive velvet carpet, dreaming to at least peirce through the back of a certain crisp, fragile cranium. With every step closer Arlecchino gets, the more Farlahr's heart pounds in his chest, daring to jump off.

She raises a hand and firmly places them on his shoulder.

"...I forbid it."

Serenity was all that could be described throughout the night. And you, as a person of idle leisure in the evening, appreciated the tranquil breeze that brush past your cheek. A soft sigh escapes your lips, falling into deep thought. What is there to do? With the last 28 hours you were given to decide on an answer, you're left quite bewildered. Tapping your fingernails on the terrace by muscle memory, your train of thought was disturbed when you head familiar foot steps behind you.

You turn around to see a sight of dignified beauty, standing before your sleepless eyes. Arlecchino's presence, despite the abruption, quickly calmed your disgruntled nerves down.

But something was wrong. Before you could ask about the residual crimson stains on her cheek and darkened hands, she speaks in a tone softer than any voice you've heard her.

"If I may ask, my dove, could you marry someone with an absent ring finger?"

Wow. What a random question. Completely uncalled for. Maybe the ungodly hours of the night got to her? Despite the conspiracies flowing through your mind, you try hard to think of an answer.

"Hmm. I should rephrase that. Could you marry a man with no fingers?" Arlecchino ponders out loud, "Despite a marriage contract, you must need a ring to put on his finger, right? Quite a shame, really.."

"No, I don't think so. Wedding rings are to be put on ring fingers, if I recall correctly."

"That's a relief." You raise a brow, completely lost. You gaze at Arlecchino, a subtle triumphant look paints her expression, her fingers play around with her numerous rings that sit comfortably on her fingers. Taking one out, she approaches your figure.

"May I embrace you, my lady?" Suddenly, the Harbingers sultry voice was sullen, sulking. My, what's up with this woman? A moment ago she shows up with (possibly) blood around her person, and now she's asking for sudden physical contact? After just a consonant of the reply 'Yes' was uttered, Arlecchino quickly took you in her arms, embracing you deeply— taking in your presence wholely.

"How I wish I could rid you the scent of that swine." She loosens her grip for a moment, putting a stray hair strand behind your ear. All this feels like a fever dream.. you remember that just mere hours ago, Arlecchino's face looked grim and unpleasant when she received news of your sudden proposal— her reaction left you perplexed. You thought it would be a good idea since Farlahr was a good business partner of hers, why the grim expression?

You pat her back comfortingly. Before you could say anything, Arlecchino quickly lets go of you, standing perfectly straight. Her face once again unreadable— she speaks in a calm and collected manner.

"That fool said that if you'd marry him, you would be set for life." She recounts, almost irritated. Arlecchino's crimson crosses gaze was away from you, but hands traced their way back to your arms, carefully holding them in hers. Her thumbs brush the back of your hands affectionately, with tenderness and care in her voice. Arlecchino's knee made contact with the floor, and her hands delicately handled yours as if they were the most precious thing in the world.

"You must marry me. All he could offer you, I could provide tenfold."

All of the sudden, the wind started to pick up, and the ethereal lady before you never looked so grand. Her monochromatic hair danced with the cool breeze, and her crimson eyes looked from above, transfixed on your figure. Your throat felt like there was too many words you could spit out in one go, and you were terrified that you'd ruin the atmosphere by stammering over your words.

"Marry me so you are mine to gratify. This is a promise I can keep, unlike that farce. Even at your grave, my everlasting flames will be buried with you in the dirt where you lay— in turn that you will never freeze from the cold kiss of death." The Harbinger adds, tenderly placing a peck on your knuckles. Her gaze could contest even the eyes of Archons at this very moment, possessing full confidence that upholds the standards of her capabilities.

Compared to her, what could a limbless man offer you?

my dumbass just woke up and decided to edit it a bit cus I was writing this at like, 3AM LMAOO, hello (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠) its me again, just dipping my toes in the water to see if I could still write 🤔

[bunny584]

OBSESSED: ITADORI

A/N: Quarterback Itadori with #20 on his jersey realizes he has a little (big) problem with a certain cheerleader turned Chem tutor (who also happens to be just a little bit older 🤭). Anon this one is for you! I hope you enjoy 💋

S/N: I’ve never giggled so much writing a piece. This one was so funny to me.

C/W: Aged up characters (19+), college AU, Mature, 18+

“ITADORI!”

Oh for fucks sake.

Yuji can’t drag away from the pyramid of cheerleaders right of center field.

“Coach?”

“IF YOU WANT TO WEAR A SKIRT AND BACKFLIP FOR THE BOYS THEN JUST SAY THAT?!”

His teammates erupt in a chorus of laughter. Coach Yaga is an ass.

Fact.

But he is also living, breathing, comedic relief.

“I would coach, but they aren’t my type!”

Yuji yells back, eyes still lasered to your back. He knows it’ll sear Yaga’s skin right off the bone.

Whatever.

What’s a few more seconds, right?

You are just so…hot.

In a mind-bending kinda way. An optical illusion. Or desert mirage.

A fresh water oasis in a destitute wasteland. Always just a few more steps away. No matter how long he’s been crawling on his knees.

His knees.

He’d kill to be on his knees for you. Diving head first into—

“SHUT THE HELL UP AND GET BACK ON THE FIELD. PINK TOP IDIOT!!”

“Yes sir!” Times up.

“Dude, she’s a smoke show.”

The team’s starting running back (#14) rests his arm on Yuji’s shoulder. Just as four bodies fling you so far against gravity it is questionable whether you’ll come down.

“She’s perfect.”

“And a junior.” #14 reminds him, tugging his helmet back over his head.

“So?”

“Okay, freshmeat. Someone’s got mommy issues.”

Yuji bursts into full belly laughter. Stealing one last glance at you before pulling his helmet on.

His teammates never fail to remind him that he’s the only freshman in Tokyo University history to make starting lineup.

Not to mention quarterback.

“#14, #20 IF YOU DONT STOP RUBBING DICKS ILL WEAR BOTH OF YOUR ASSES TO THE BONE THIS AFTERNOON.”

Yuji promptly takes position at center field. He knows better than to push his luck. Two-a-days are already brutal enough, he has no intention of making his life harder than it is.

But you do.

You are setting flames to the hoops Yuji has to jump through to get through study hall and afternoon practice.

Why else would you wear those yoga pants?

They’re a second skin, for Christ’s sake.

Might as well be body paint. Outlining every tantalizing, serpentine curve. Pretty, full hips. Plump, tight ass. The mouthwatering, puffy rose between your legs just begging to be watered. By his tongue.

Yuji’s palm digs into his crotch. Trying to force his pulsating length from tenting up into the table. Cursing himself for changing out of his compression shorts.

“Hello? Yuji?”

Your dulcet voice echoes between his ears and curls around his dick. Jerking him back down to earth.

“Y-yeah? Hi.”

Yuji forces an acknowledgement through the sharp edges of his voice box. Sitting fully erect in his seat. Scrambling to find the pencil that was supposed to be mirroring your work on the whiteboard.

Because not only are you a perfect 10 on and off the field; you are a prodigy when it comes to chemistry.

And currently in the middle of trying to diffuse some of your excess knowledge into his very deficient head.

You toss your head back. Your laughter is definitely why tales of fishermen being lost at sea exists.

Light.

Breathy.

Soprano crescendo that’s rutting against the few folds in his brain.

“Why are you so distracted today, Yu?”

“Distracted?” His voice cracks.

“Ha—no, I’m not distracted. Sorry, walk me through it again.”

But before Yuji can retreat back into his daydream, you catch him in the Venus fly trap of your gaze. Tilting your head slightly.

Yuji swallows thickly. Frozen in place. Hand pushing down on his cock with all his might. As if you could see through the table.

Did you know he was staring at your ass? Can you tell how hard he is? Is there drool on his face? Shit, there must—

“Woah, the way the sun is catching your eyes right now, Yu.”

You take a half step to the side, allowing the full beam of light to caress Yuji’s already hot face.

A shaky hand swipes along the back of his neck.

“H-huh?”

“Your eyes are so pretty. Warm. Like hot chocolate with cinnamon.”

Your full lips curl into a soft smile. And Yuji bites down a pitiful whine.

“I—thanks.” You don’t hear him. Because he whispers through a wired shut jaw.

Yuji lets his erection tent up, grazing the table. He fists his base through his athletic pants. Ears fiery hot with embarrassment. His hand glides up and down his clothed cock without his permission.

Did you know?

That you snapped his self-control in half?

And shoved him into the darkest recesses of his mind?

Where his most depraved thoughts (and the King of Curses) lives?

Because all Yuji can see is the way your ass ripples and bounces while you scribble hieroglyphics on the whiteboard.

His mind’s eye is currently picturing him fucking you dumber than he is.

Fist full of hair in one hand. Both of your wrists behind your back in another. Mesmerized by the way your plump, fleshy mounds slam against his hips.

Maybe he’ll fuck you in front of a mirror?

So he can make you repeat how pretty you think his eyes are while he brands the shape of his cock into you.

Then he’ll tell you how pretty you are. Creaming all around his length. Drool raining down from your lips in sync with his thrusts.

Maybe he’ll stick a dildo on the mirror so he can watch your mouth get stuffed while he violates your insides?

You’ll look so pretty. When he fills you up with something warm. A little thicker than ‘hot chocolate with cinnamon.’

“Yu? Are you okay?” Genuine concern knocks his lust-drunk thoughts loose.

Yuji blinks himself back to this dimension. Chest heaving. Cramps blooming from his fingertips to his biceps from grasping his sex so hard. He doesn’t need a mirror to know he’s stained blood red. From chin to hairline.

“I-uh. Sick. I’m—I feel sick. Be right back.” He takes off to the male locker room at inhuman speed.

Yuji nearly doubles over the porcelain sink, glaring at his blown out pupils. Olive skin flushed like he just finished a marathon.

He can’t believe he was just groping himself like that in public. In plain sight.

All because you complimented his eyes?!

Who the hell is he?

“Sukuna, give it a rest.”

Yuji hisses poison at his curse. Because he surely wasnt responsible for those lewd actions.

“Oh, I’ll rest you PERMANENTLY you asinine little b—“

“I’m serious. Quit it.”

Yuji darts around the empty locker room. Accidentally raising his voice.

“Quit what, brat?”

“Quit…making me think..things like that.”

Sukuna’s bellowing laughter sounds like nails on a chalkboard. Deafening between Yuji’s ears.

“That’s all you kid. I’m only 10 fingers in. Don’t have that power…yet.”

Sukuna retreats to Yuji’s subconscious. Leaving him stunned. Disbelief crashing into him like tornado winds.

Yuji has never been a pervert.

Sure, he’s had crushes. But he knows how to control his impulses.

He might be dumb like one, but he’s not an actual dog…right?

Wrong.

Yuji dives into an empty stall while his teammates file in. Study hall is complete and afternoon warm-ups are starting soon.

And his neglected, weeping sex is clamoring for attention.

Missing it’s muse — your soft, curvy frame and the ways he wants to fill you.

One hand clamps over his mouth. While the other one tugs his pants down. Thick, heavy length springing free. Sticky and slick with his precum.

His head meets the cool wall. Hips thrusting against his fist. Broken whimpers pushing through the web spaces of his fingers that are digging into his cheek. Choking himself quiet so no one hears his pathetic hormone driven state.

“Mnnhgh f—fuck.” Muffled curses slip past his hand.

His cock is red and engorged. Angry from his abuse. But his hips can’t stop rutting into his hand. Picturing abusing your pretty, swollen cunt.

A hot tear rolls along his cheek, between his fingers. Salty on his tongue.

Curtains start to shade his vision and Yuji’s hands move to cup his bulbous tip. His muscular core tenses and strings of warm, thick seed fills his hands.

The world slowly starts to piece together. His heart rattling in its cage comes to a normal pace. Choppy, incomplete breaths gradually replaced with deep, relaxed ones.

Shit.

He’s in trouble.

Because he needs to pass chemistry to play football. And he needs you to pass.

But he can’t ever look you in the eye again after this display.

After one measly compliment.

How will he act if you bend over in front of him?

Or lean over a little too far?

God forbid you touch his arms or brush against him.?

Then a lightbulb goes off.

Yuji has the perfect solution.

He scrambles to clean up. Putting on his street clothes. Ignoring the quizzical looks from his teammates. He’s going to fix his little problem.

“Coach Yaga?” Yuji is met with an open office door and his coach’s nostrils flaring. Vein along his temple pulsing.

He draws in a steadying breath.

“I can’t play football anymore coach. I quit.”

“….YOU WHAT?!?!”

[pseudowho]

Yet Another Nanami Kento Sex Pollen Fic, Part Two

The reader encounters an aphrodisiac diffusing Curse...which she brings home to Nanami Kento.

Read Part 1 first HERE!

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When you had looked up through the billowing steam of your shower, and seen Kento's broad figure filling the doorway, your conscious thought had juddered to a halt, and you became all compulsion and instinct.

Nanami Kento stood, his weight shifted slightly forward on one leg, as one hand reached up to grab the doorframe, and the other squeezed his cock, which was hardening rapidly under his hand. He was exactly as you had left him; shirt splayed open with all the buttons ripped off, and trousers shunted down at the front, clinging to the jut of his hipbones, trail of honey-coloured hair pathing the way to his hand, which was stroking himself so keenly.

I suppose he didn't think to leave my clothes alone, you thought, but...I owe him.

You met Kento's eyes and tried to read him as your mind stuttered, and your heart leapt into your mouth as Kento crossed the room in three long strides. As you grasped the shower door and began to open it, the glass banged and rattled as Kento's shaking hand gripped it and slammed it closed.

"...Kento? It's okay, I know how it feels. Come on, I can he--"

"No," he spat. Kento held the door closed, but his hand was quaking, at war with itself. You felt your heart pound as noticed his other hand, gripping his throbbing length, the tip now an angry red-purple.

"I don't want to hurt you," Kento forced, "This is...different. I could stop you, but you...you couldn't stop me...if you wanted to."

Your heart clenched for him. You knew the desperate need he was experiencing, and he had helped you. But, as you took him in, ostensibly huge, all raised planes of muscle over strong bones, you knew he was right. But still--

"I trust you, Kento. I know you wouldn't hurt me." Kento looked at you darkly, hungry and wolfish, teeth bared.

"I wouldn't be so sure," he pressed, and the way his eyes lingered on your body, naked breasts heaving and wet under the steam, Kento thought of breaking you underneath him, the effects of the pollen having made your wellbeing completely second to his need, he felt like he'd surely die unless he used your body to relieve his own.

Forcing himself to look away from you as you pressed your hands against the glass, looking at him with such tender concern that he could have wept, Kento felt every thread of his nervous system on fire.

With a sinking nausea as Kento felt this...this...substance working through his synapses, his body and brain were getting hotter and hotter and his grasp on rational thought and decision-making were reducing. His brain was no longer working. He panted, hand letting go of his cock to run through his hair. Kento shivered at how erotic his simple touches to himself felt. After tugging his hair sharply at the roots, nearly groaning aloud with the pleasure, Kento's fingers trailed to his lips, ducking two fingers past them to suck on his own fingertips. He moaned around them, and you watched him, fascinated and terrified at how animalistic Kento had become.

His skin felt too tight, every sense piqued, and his hand on the shower door shook harder as he heard you switch the water off; as if detached from the rest of his body, this hand squeezed the door closed, but his other hand pressed, with his forehead, feverishly against the glass as he stared you down. Looking into his eyes, you saw less and less Kento there as he struggled to contain himself. Kento breathed out shakily.

"I'm going to open the door," he spoke, each word pained and deliberate, "and you're going to run, and lock yourself in our room. Are you ready?" You stared at Kento, speechless.

"Are you ready?" he barked and you jolted, nodding frantically. His white knuckled hand swung the door open and you leapt past him, rounding the corner as you ran to your bedroom, hearing quick footsteps approaching behind you and you got inside the room, slammed the door and locked it--

A fist banged on the outside of the door as Kento roared, and you fell back onto the bed, still drenched, hair dripping down your back (or is it cold sweat?). You heard footsteps, flat, heavy and pacing.

Kento ran his fingernails up and down the back of his head and neck, pacing furiously, ashamed of how quickly he nearly hunted you down after he had let you out of the shower. Reaching down, lifting his legs one by one, he wrenched his slippers off and lobbed them across the room where they bounced meekly off the high windows. Throwing his shirt and trousers to the sofa, he sat hard on the floor with his back to your door, face in his hands as he genuinely worried he may die from the heat and desire pooling in his stomach and coiling outwards through him.

Kento's cock sat, heavy and throbbing against his belly, pressed upwards by the waistband of his boxers. The hair on his stomach was wet with pre-cum. Pushing his boxers fully down, with one arm draped over his eyes, Kento began to stroke himself, squeezing hard, desperate and chasing relief.

She felt better after she came, he thought, panting as his hand stroked fast, wet strokes from tip to base, she felt better, you will too. Kento continued to work on himself, feeling tears prick in his eyes and growling when he felt absolutely no relief.

On the other side of the door, you tentatively knocked. "Kento?" You heard a low groan in response. "Look, I...I know you're trying to keep me safe, which I love, but...I know you're going to need something other than your own hand."

Silence. You continued, "So, you can come in here and I promise I can take it, or we can call Shoko?"

"We are absolutely not calling Shoko about this," Kento forced, low and angry. Your lower belly twisted, and you knew you needed to force Kento's hand. He needed this. He needed you.

"Or, I could just..." you started, sounding braver than you felt, leaning your back against the wall beside the door, "touch myself, and you can cum in your hand to the thought of me."

Kento was revealing in his silence. You continued, moaning softly as your fingers began to rub small circles around your clit, and you heard a heavy weight shift against the door. "I'm wet," you gasped softly, "you'd barely need to do anything, just hold me down and sink straight into me." Kento growled on the other side of the door.

"Stop it," he barked, "I'm warning you."

"I can take it," you pressed, continuing to pleasure yourself, moaning sweetly, folds wet and glistening now, "Please come and fuck me...daddy."

The door flew inwards off its hinges with a bang, wood splintered, and you squealed as Kento reached around the doorway and gripped you hard by the throat. Using his other hand to strip his boxers completely away, he pulled you nose to nose by the throat, your tiptoes scraping against the floor as you gasped, lightheaded.

"You can take it, can you?" he rumbled, pupils blown with lust, his cock hard against your belly. Pressing a hard kiss, all teeth and tongue, to your mouth, he threw you onto your bed where you bounced, face down, "Let's see, shall we?"

You squealed again as Kento grabbed you by the waist and threw you up the bed. Lifting your face from the pillows, you moved to turn to Kento, "I'm sorry, I just--" You were cut off with a cry as Kento grabbed your hair by the roots, forcing your face forwards. Kento began to position you like a mannequin, pressing your tummy down and your arse up, and finally grabbing both of your hands where he made your fingers clasp to the headboard of the bed. Stretched and quaking, you felt Kento's hands grip you firmly by the hips.

"Hold onto something," he growled, before bottoming out inside your dripping pussy in one sharp thrust. You cried out, hips trying to scoot forwards up the bed as you adjusted to his size, seeming bigger than usual with how thick and aroused the pollen had made him; Kento slapped the side of your thigh hard and you squeaked, the pleasure sharp and bitter.

Kento slapped your sex back onto his cock one, two, three times and came with a shout, the orgasm bursting along his skin, his moaning a ragged, injured sound. Time stood still as he poured cum into you, feeling it drip down his balls and your thighs, carrying on and on until his moans turned to low pants, continuing to thrust slowly into you.

Kento waited for the desperate clawing at the back of his neck, the itching at the base of his brain, to pass...his stomach swooped, like falling at the start of a dream, to recognise that he felt no better. Furious, devastated, Kento grasped you by the hair to pull you upright, his chest feeling like a brick wall against your back, as his cock remained throbbing and hard inside you. Still holding you by the hair, he tipped your head sideways, biting deeply into the soft skin above your pulse point.

Kento felt sickly delighted to feel you shaking in his arms, and thrust upwards into you, cock gliding effortlessly along the tight wet slick of your pussy. His tongue and teeth ghosted along the shell of your ear, and he whispered low and dangerous, as he splayed his huge, fine-boned hand across your lower belly.

"How deep am I?" He thrust again, harder, letting go of your hair as your head fell back against his shoulder. You squeaked as his knees batted yours aside, forcing you to fall deeper around his lap. "Can I get any deeper?" His freed hand gripped the side of your hips, pressing you down onto him. You gasped, mewling and writhing as you felt his cock bully against your cervix, and as he pressed your belly inwards and downwards, you twisted, squeaking as you saw stars, both hands reaching back to clasp desperately round the back of Kento's neck.

Kento buried his nose into you, sniffing deeply. "Are you ovulating?" he intoned, continuing his relentless assault on your limp body as he lifted you, pressing you up and down slowly and deliberately, stretching you, as you felt that if he went any deeper he'd surely thrust past your cervix and into your womb. You almost sobbed, voice muffling as his hand left your hips and clasped over your lower face, shushing you, almost tenderly.

"I know you are...I can smell it," he groaned, slamming you down hard, enjoying your hot little breaths behind his huge hand, "It's...delicious." You wanted to tell him how close to finishing you were, but were totally voiceless with his hand over your mouth. Your pussy fluttered tellingly around him, and Kento chuckled.

"Don't worry, you'll get your turn. Shit, this stuff is...it's..." Kento felt the urgent need to orgasm begin to burn through him again, and he rumbled his displeasure, throwing you back onto the bed and flipping you, overwhelmed by the urge to breed you, and keep you home so he could fuck you all day if he wanted to.

Pressing your knees up to your chest, your face burned with pleasure and pain as Kento slammed into you again, his hips snapping wetly against yours at a relentless pace. He grabbed your hands and brought them around your knees, forcing you to hold your legs in place as he lifted your arse off the bed, dragging your pussy back and forth along his cock on time with his thrusts.

A dam broke inside you, feeling Kento so deeply that it felt like he owned your whole body, and you came with a sob, wounded by the pleasure as you trembled, completely used as Kento continued to drag himself in and out of you, soft splatters of his and your cum dripping into the bed every time he thrust into you.

Kento chased his high, needing release or he'd surely perish, and he revelled in the tight squeeze of your plush walls around him, grunting and moaning unashamedly as you squirmed, babbling his name, which could be another language as far as Kento was concerned as his brain sank into the primal urge to keep cumming inside you until you were round and beautiful, full of him. The thought spurred him on, and he leaned over you, caging you in with his arms, your thighs crunched against your abdomen, and Kento took your nipple between his teeth, whining around you.

You grasped the back of his head, pressing it into your breast, feeling his pubic bone slam against your clit, your second orgasm hypersensitive and painful, your hands shaking as they tugged Kento's hair, your lips trembling with easy praise for him.

Kento tasted the bitter tang of blood and metal along the sides of his tongue as he came again, his skin electric, and dying stars in his eyes, and growled a bestial growl of relief as he began to feel the itching desire ebb away, finally satiated.

Pulling out of you, he looked down at the mess between your legs, puffy folds covered in a pinkish mix of blood and semen, and Kento groaned into his hand.

"I'm so...I'm so sorry," he panted, shaking and exhausted, reaching up to stroke your forehead, pulling your arm from over your face. You smiled weakly at him, bruised, aching and completely spent.

"It's okay," you reassured him, stroking his abs softly, in small circles, "but we really should get rid of those clothes. And have a bath." Kento nodded, swiping his sweaty hair back off his head. He glanced behind him, blushing faintly.

"And...fix that door."

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Would it have been sexier if he'd kept the slippers on? Uncertain.

[mpcomagnetics]

Human Beings Can Feel Magnetic Field and Maybe Predict The Future!

The sixth sense of magnetism is first confirmed That Human Beings Can Feel Magnetic Field and Maybe Predict The Future! In our real life, there are often strange experiences, and sometimes I always feel that my crow’s mouth is said. There is always a feeling of feeling that something is going on, but I did not expect to be fulfilled in a few days. When walking on the road, I always feel that…

[pucksandpower]

Never Have I Ever

Charles Leclerc x Sainz!Reader

Summary: a game of Never Have I Ever leads to revelations your brother wishes he could forget (and half the grid running for their lives)

“Alright Y/N, it’s your turn!” Lando says, turning to you with an impish grin. “Give us a good one!”

You bite your lip, looking around the circle of F1 drivers sitting cross-legged on the floor of Charles’ palatial hotel suite. It’s a rare night off for everyone during the season, and Charles had suggested a casual get-together for some bonding time. That, of course, led to drinking games, and now here you all are, a few rounds into Never Have I Ever.

“Hmm...” you say slowly, tapping your chin as you think. Your brother, sitting to your left, playfully shoves your shoulder.

“Come on, hermanita! Don’t go easy on us,” he says with a laugh. You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling.

“Okay, okay! Never have I ever … raced in Formula 1,” you declare. A chorus of groans goes up around the circle as everyone except you drinks.

“That was just mean, Y/N!” Lance protests, though his eyes are twinkling with amusement. You grin and give a nonchalant shrug.

“All’s fair in Never Have I Ever!”

The game continues, the questions getting more and more outrageous and personal. Though you’re the only non-driver here, you feel completely comfortable around these guys. You’ve known most of them for years now through your brother, and they welcomed you into the F1 family immediately. It’s fun to sit back and observe their antics and camaraderie.

“Alright, I’ve got one,” Daniel says, leaning forward with an devilish smirk. “Never have I ever … slept with someone on the grid.”

You feel your eyes widen slightly at the implication, but force yourself not to react. Still, you can’t help but notice Fernando slyly taking a sip of his drink out of the corner of your eye. The rest of the drivers turn to look at him in surprise.

“What?” Fernando says with an innocent look. “Have you seen Mark Webber?”

The others burst into laughter at this excuse, the tension effectively diffused. As all eyes stay focused on Fernando, you slowly lift your own glass to your lips and take a subtle sip.

Just as you’re lowering it though, you feel Carlos stiffen next to you. Uh oh. You chance a glance at your brother and immediately regret it at the sight of the shock and anger flashing in his eyes. Before you can say anything, Carlos is on his feet.

“Alright, which one of you was stupid enough to touch my sister?” He demands heatedly.

Instantly, almost comically, Charles, Max, Lando, Pierre, Alex, Oscar, and Logan scramble to their feet and take off running in different directions.

Carlos’ eyes nearly bug out of his head before he takes off after them, yelling Spanish profanities. You sit there stunned for a second before dissolving into laughter. Only Fernando and Daniel remain seated beside you, chuckling and shaking their heads.

“Carlos! Hermano, calm down!” You call after your brother fruitlessly. Still giggling, you turn to Fernando. “I should probably go deal with him before he actually hurts someone, huh?”

“Probably wise,” Fernando says with an amused smile. “Good luck, chica.”

You give him a grateful smile before jumping to your feet and hurrying after Carlos. You find him in the next room, gripping a cowering Lando by the front of his shirt.

“Please don’t kill me!” Lando squeaks out. “It was one time!”

“Carlos, stop!” You cry, rushing over and grabbing your brother’s arm. “Let him go!”

Carlos drops Lando immediately, who scurries away like a frightened mouse. Your brother whirls on you, face still red with anger.

“Y/N, what the hell? You never told me you’ve been with these pendejos!”

You hold up your hands in a calming gesture. “I know, I’m sorry! It just sort of … happened. With everything going on in the paddock, it’s hard to avoid getting close to people. A girl has needs!”

Carlos drags a hand down his face, looking positively murderous. You place a gentle hand on his arm.

“Carlos, listen to me. I’m a grown woman, I can make my own choices. I know you want to protect me, but I’m okay, I promise.”

Your brother’s expression softens slightly as he looks down at you. He pulls you into a tight hug.

“Lo siento, hermanita. I just worry about you, that’s all. The grid is like a family, but still ...”

You hug him back reassuringly. “I know. But you don’t need to go all Spanish Inquisition on them, okay? I can handle myself.”

Carlos sighs but finally relents with a small smile. “Okay, okay. I’ll try to restrain myself from beating them all senseless.”

You laugh. “Much appreciated. Now come on, let’s get back out there and pretend this never happened, yeah?”

Carlos winces slightly but agrees, allowing you to lead him back out to the others. Most have returned to the circle now, shooting your brother wary glances. You give them a reassuring smile as you sit back down, Carlos settling tensely beside you.

“Right!” You say brightly. “Whose turn was it?”

There’s a beat of uncertain silence before Logan clears his throat.

“Uh, I believe it was mine,” he says. “Never have I ever … had a podium finish.”

There’s a communal exhale of relief as the game gets back underway. You catch Carlos’ eye and give him a pointed look, reminding him of his promise. He sighs but gives you a subtle nod and an apologetic smile.

The questions continue on, ranging from silly to risqué, though nothing quite as explosive as before. You’re relieved to see your brother laughing and back to his normal self.

As the night winds down, you’re struck by a feeling of gratitude and affection for this group. Despite the drama and tensions of the season, at the end of the day, you’re all a family.

These guys welcomed you with open arms, and you know Carlos is just looking out for you. You lean against your brother with a contented sigh, smiling around at the drivers joking and chatting happily. No matter what happens on and off the track, you know you’ll always have each other.

***

“Alright everyone, glasses up! We’re doing this again!”

You grin around at the drivers gathered once more, this time to celebrate the one year anniversary of your first Never Have I Ever night together.

“Who’s starting us off this time?” Lando asks, bouncing excitedly in his seat.

“Ooh me, me!” Alex volunteers, raising his hand eagerly. Everyone chuckles.

“Alright Albon, give us a good one,” Lewis encourages.

Alex strokes his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, never have I ever … raced in F1 before 2019.”

A majority of the group drinks at that one. “Trying to knock out us old farts, eh?” Fernando jokes, elbowing Alex.

The questions continue on, each one prompting laughs and cheers among the group. You’re filled with the same warm contentment as last year, smiling around at your dear friends.

About halfway through, you clear your throat. “I’ve got one! Never have I ever … been an uncle.”

Most of the drivers take a drink between smiles and coos about nieces and nephews. You notice Carlos doesn’t drink and turn to him with a playful grin.

“Uh, hermano, I think you forgot to drink for that one,” you say pointedly.

Carlos looks at you in confusion. “What? None of my sisters have kids.”

You simply keep staring at him meaningfully until realization dawns on his face. His eyes go wide, flicking down to your still-full glass of untouched alcohol.

“Y/N … are you ...” he breathes in disbelief.

You nod again. “I’m pregnant.”

For a moment Carlos just stares at you in shock. Then his face starts turning red, hands clenching into fists at his sides.

“You’re pregnant?” He repeats through gritted teeth. The other drivers fall silent, exchanging uneasy glances.

“Who did this to you? Who’s the cabrón who touched my sister again?” Carlos demands, voice rising.

You shrink back slightly, smile fading. Maybe you should have told him privately.

“I … Carlos, please, just calm down,” you say weakly.

But your brother is beyond calming down now. He whips his head around the circle, glaring daggers at each driver.

“Who was it? Who permanently defiled my innocent baby sister?”

You open your mouth uncertainly, not quite sure how to answer. Before you can though, Charles abruptly jumps to his feet.

“WellwouldyalookatthetimeIgottagonowbye!” He blurts out hurriedly before turning and sprinting from the room.

“LECLERC!” Carlos bellows, tearing off after him. You can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of you at the sight. Some things never change.

The other drivers are cracking up too. “Think we should go make sure Carlos doesn’t actually kill him?” Lando asks with a grin.

You wave a hand dismissively. “Nah, let them work it out. Charles will tire him out eventually.”

Still chuckling, you lean back against the couch next to Fernando, who has an arm draped casually around your shoulders.

“Those two, I swear. Will Carlos ever stop seeing me as his baby sister?” You muse with a smile.

Fernando grins and shakes his head. “Doubtful, chica. But that’s how brothers are. He’s just watching out for you.”

From the other room, you hear a crash followed by yelling in multiple languages. You and Fernando share an amused look.

“At least he didn’t try to fight the whole grid again,” you point out. Fernando barks out a laugh at the memory.

“Give him time. The night is still young,” he says with a playful wink.

You laugh again, cuddling into Fernando’s side. Even with your brother’s antics, you truly feel so lucky to have this group in your life. Friends turned family.

As you hear Carlos’ angry shouts getting closer, followed by Charles’ panicked apologizing, you think to yourself that there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

[theodorenmyth]

Jealousy Unveiled

Pairings : Theodore Nott x GN! Reader Summary : He found Cormac flirting with you. A/n : Enjoy (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠) Warnings) : Jealousy, Cormac Mclaggen Word count : 777

Theodore Nott had always been a man of few words, a quiet strength that you found endearing. Your relationship—or rather, situationship—was defined by unspoken rules and lingering glances, an understanding that didn’t require labels. It was comfortable, for the most part, until someone else tried to wedge their way into your dynamic.

The Great Hall buzzed with the usual chatter of students, forks clinking against plates, and the occasional burst of laughter. You were sitting at the Slytherin table, enjoying your breakfast, when Cormac McLaggen, with his ever-present self-assured grin, sauntered over. “Good morning,” he greeted, sliding into the seat beside you. “Mind if I join you?”

You glanced up, slightly surprised, but offered a polite smile. “Sure, why not?” Cormac’s eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint. “You know, I’ve always thought you had the most captivating smile in all of Hogwarts. It’s a wonder I don’t see it more often.”

You chuckled, feeling a bit flustered. “Thanks, Cormac. That’s sweet of you to say.” He leaned in a little closer, his voice lowering to a more intimate tone. “You know, there’s a Hogsmeade trip coming up. I was thinking maybe you’d like to join me? We could get a butterbeer or two, maybe even check out some of the shops.”

Before you could respond, a shadow loomed over the table. Theodore Nott stood there, his expression unreadable but his presence unmistakably intense. His eyes flicked to Cormac, then to you, and back to Cormac.

“Is there a problem here?” Theo’s voice was calm, but there was an edge to it that made your heart skip a beat.

Cormac raised an eyebrow, his smirk faltering for a moment. “No problem at all, Nott. Just having a friendly chat.”

Theo’s gaze hardened, and he moved to sit on your other side, effectively boxing you in between him and Cormac. “Funny, it didn’t look all that friendly to me.”

You could feel the tension rising, and you placed a hand on Theo’s arm, hoping to diffuse the situation. “It’s okay, Theo. We were just talking.”

Theo’s eyes softened slightly when he looked at you, but the protective glint didn’t leave. “Just talking, huh? Well, I think Cormac was about to leave, weren’t you, McLaggen?”

Cormac’s smirk returned, though it seemed a bit forced. “Actually, I was just about to ask—”

Theo cut him off, his voice dangerously low. “I think you’ve asked enough.”

Cormac stood up, his expression a mix of annoyance and amusement. “Alright, alright. No need to get territorial, Nott. I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

As he walked away, you turned to Theo, raising an eyebrow. “Territorial much?”

Theo sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I just don’t like the way he was looking at you.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his protectiveness. “Jealous, are we?”

He huffed, a small smile tugging at his lips despite himself. “Maybe a little. Can you blame me?”

You shook your head, leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Not at all. But you don’t have to worry, Theo. I’m not interested in Cormac.”

His eyes searched yours, and he nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Good. Because I’d hate to have to hex him.”

You laughed, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he said, a hint of a grin forming. “But I’m your kind of ridiculous.”

You leaned into him, the familiar scent of his cologne calming you. “Yes, you are.”

Theo leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a tender kiss. The Great Hall seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that moment. When you finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathless and smiling.

"Come on," Theo said, his hand slipping into yours. "Let’s get out of here. We’ve got a lot to talk about."

As you walked hand in hand out of the Great Hall, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. No more secrets, no more stolen glances. It was just you and Theo, ready to face whatever came your way together.

In the days that followed, the change in your relationship was evident to everyone. You and Theo were inseparable, his arm often draped possessively around your shoulders, his eyes filled with a protective warmth whenever anyone dared to approach you. Even Cormac seemed to get the message, keeping his distance and focusing his attentions elsewhere.

For the first time in a long while, you felt truly content. And as you sat with Theo by the Black Lake, his fingers entwined with yours, you knew that this was only the beginning of something beautiful.