Corazón de Poeta

To my Beloved Darling Pie <3

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This Hopeless Romantic goes by any name given to them!

Pick Your Letter:

| Requests + WIP | Masterlist | Art |

Anon-List

Like my works? Like COD or Waterboy from Dispatch? Check out my other blog! @thekeystothebasement

Divider Credit: @uzmacchiato

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An old poem I wrote for an Astronomer!Senku x Nun!reader idea dump

A/n: With what I've seen going on in the latest eps, the poem seems a bit fitting?

Do not seek further attestation, for you are irrefutable proof that the planets orbit the sun.

You are the sun, bright and radiant, bringing life to those who bask in your warmth. And I, merely a speck of dirt beneath your radiance, am drawn into your orbit.

Allow me to revolve my life around yours. Allow me to be just another speck among those who have also fallen under your orbit.

You are the sun, and I am the earth.

Life would be nonexistent—merely another hypothetical if it were not for you.

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Time Dilation

A/n: I haven't posted an idea dump in a while...I had a similar idea before. Similar ideas, different approaches...

Interstellar Spoilers + Dr. Stone Final Season Spoilers!

I've never watched Interstellar (I will be doing so soon), but I remember a TikTok scene (Years of Messages) where one of the protagonists watches all the videos his family had sent him while he was trapped in a black hole (I think).

Time on Earth moves faster than in space, so even though it might've felt like a few hours to him, to the people on Earth, it was nearly a lifetime. In the movie, I believe it was 23 years, although when he gets back, it's even more.

Anywho, I'm imagining a fic similar to that scene for Senku! I'm not at all caught up with the anime. I've seen TikToks about the new season and even some manga panels, so I know they're in space right now.

So imagine something goes wrong with the rocket, and suddenly they're floating around space without control of their ship. They lose communication with their friends on Earth. Senku, Kohaku, and Stanley are trying their best to fix this dilemma they're in, while in the back of Senku's mind, he's already calculating the time dilation between Earth and where they're floating mindlessly. What might've felt like a day or two fixing the ship back on course was decades on earth.

When they finally get closer to the original course, where communications pick up, years worth of videos and messages are being received on the ship. Messages from Ruri, Chrome, and Suika to Kohaku. Messages from Xeno and the American colony to Stanley. And Senku has messages from all his friends.

Cuz I write x reader fanfic, I would center the videos around Senku x reader, where he gets heartfelt messages from his s/o as he watches her age behind the screen….

A/n: I got one more week of summer classes until I can write to my aching heart's content!

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DORK SENKU DORK SENKU DORK SENKU!!!!

I'm writing the next chapter of A Little Bit Is Never Enough, I Want It All, and prepare for some dork Senku action!!! and angst for all the Ryusui fans!

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lowkey rip to all the Ryusui fans this chapter 👀

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DORK SENKU DORK SENKU DORK SENKU!!!!

I'm writing the next chapter of A Little Bit Is Never Enough, I Want It All, and prepare for some dork Senku action!!! and angst for all the Ryusui fans!

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When you realize you're falling out of love with Senku, and Olivia Rodrigo released a new album, and NOW IS THE PERFECT TIME TO RUN BACK TO THE STUDIO TO WRITE CHEMISTRY MATTERS

I'm a heart made of wax, and I'm melting in the sun. I'm a thread on your shirt that is coming undone.

I've curated the perfect heartbreak playlist consisting of The Marias, NFR, Mitski, and now Olivia Rodrigo...

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AHHHHHH!!! HES SO HANDSOME!!!! 😭

I recently got my hands on the witch hat atelier box set, and the art cards that come with it, AND IM OBSESSED!!!

Gosh, I really want to write some juicy, toe curling smut for this man!!!! LOOK AT HIMM!!!

I’m thinking of Olruggio x Noble/Princess! Reader!! A love-hate sex when he has to put up with the spoiled princess of a kingdom as he’s hired to help solve their problem?!?!?

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Petrichor

| I. Morning Spring Dew |

With a slight morning chill and little droplets of water clinging to the leaves of the plants by your window, they try their best to hold on to the beads of water. You watch with a tender smile on your face, eyes still fluttering sleepily, as a bead of water cascades gently down the leaf of the sky-blue flower and sinks into the soil beneath it.

Morning spring dews mean nothing to many, but to you, they mean the man with hair like winter snow—white and soft—will be visiting soon.

The man is a pointed-cap witch who comes every year to repay a debt that doesn't exist. If it did, it would have been paid off by his first visit, but he insists. You offered him shelter many moons ago, when the storm outside felt like it was going to drown the land in its fury. You caught him out of the corner of your eye, walking down the dirt path of your middle-of-nowhere village. Pushing the door to your home wide open, letting the heinous screams of the winds and the tears of the sky into your home, you called out to the stranger.

"Sir!" Your eyes squinted harshly against the wind, arm over your forehead to keep the rain from hitting your face, a vain attempt. You're nearly as wet as he is in just a matter of seconds, but that doesn't stop you from calling out to him. "You're welcome to wait out the storm with me!"

You don't think you'll ever forget the look he made when he saw you.

You're not quite sure whether you'll ever understand all the emotions that flashed across his face. At first, it was as if he'd seen a ghost, eyes widening in horror, mouth agape as he clutched the robes at his chest. Maybe he hadn't expected to see anyone in the storm, let alone at the forest's edge. But just as quickly as the expression flashed, it was replaced by a dopey smile. His lips curl shyly, eyes crinkling in a friendly manner as he rushes to your home.

From the entrance of your home, you hadn't realized how tall the stranger was until he was towering over you, panting heavily from his jog. His arm holds the door frame, keeping the wind from blowing it shut as he gazes down at you with a desperate look. His eyes shake, refusing to settle on yours. They glide across your face… lips, nose, the curve of your cheeks. He takes it all in.

"Is the offer still open?" he says between bated breaths. You're pulled out of a daze you weren't aware you were in, nor for how long. The pounding of your heart nearly drowned out his voice, one that you hadn't expected to be so smooth and gentle.

"Of course!" you say in a panic. You step back, letting him into your small home, and the door closes behind him.

"Thank you for letting me into your home." His hands dig into his pockets, searching for something. "I am forever in your debt."

"What!" you squeak nervously. You shake your head and your hands frantically. "It's fine, really! You don't owe me anything!"

When it was just you at home, there were many things you hadn't noticed about it. Only when he stood in front of you did you see them. Only then did you realize how small your home was. There was no escape from his gentle eyes or his soft panting, which has your imagination running wild.

"I'll get us some towels to dry off," you say bashfully, unsure how else to break this weird tension.

"No need," he says before you have the chance to even move. He pulls his hands out of his pockets, along with two rings. He slides them along his thumbs, pressing them together. In an instant, a light is emitted, swallowing you both in its familiar warmth. The water that had showered you both dissipates into the air, leaving you in awe.

You're in disbelief. Your eyes flicker between him and yourself. Your hands run along the fabric of your clothes, feeling it dry and warm. Too caught up in your own awe, you weren't watching him as he dug into his pockets again.

"Qifrey the witch," he says with a slight bow, meeting your flustered gaze. He holds his pointed hat in his hands and over his heart for a moment before placing it on his head. "At your service."

You hadn't told him then, or the visits that followed, but you had dreamt of him long before you had met him. The images of him in your dreams are as clear as dreams are—fuzzy, blurry, and nonsensical.

The first dream you had of Qifrey is one you flush at the memory of. There was no space between you and him, your lips grazing his, and his eyes staring down at you with a yearning that makes you shriek in your arms just from visualizing it, especially now that you met the man in your dreams.

At the time, it hadn't meant much to you. Only a passing thought, if your solitude in the forest was taking a toll on you—maybe you had begun to yearn for affection.

The dreams don't come in a pattern. They appear to you sporadically. Sometimes they come days apart; other times, weeks… months.

Another dream that often comes to mind is the one you woke up to, tears streaming down your face, when you first dreamt it. You had felt an ache in your heart and an empty feeling in your stomach, despite the dream being one of love—at least it was love to you.

You were being held in his arms as yours wrapped around his neck. Daylight had yet to break, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon. The sight of it now, as you recollect it, reminds you of a painting soaked in water. The colors of it all mix together, with no clear end to one and the start of another.

You were in his arms, lips pressed against his, and somehow, in a way that only makes sense in a dream, you were in the air with him. Every time this particular dream resurfaces in your mind, you can feel the chill on your skin, almost as if relieving the feeling of the air thousands of feet in the sky. And if you close your eyes, you can feel the ghostly feeling of his lips on yours.

It's silly, maybe even a little pathetic and desperate, but you often wonder whether the dreams were memories of another life. One in which Qifrey the witch was much more than just the man who visits you once a year, when the morning spring dew appears.

A/n: EEEE! My first Witch Hat Atelier fic (besides HCs and drabbles)!

First Chapter! Sorry for it being somewhat short! Navigating new waters, but hopefully the next chapter will be a bit longer!

Oh! If you don't know! This fic is based on this idea I posted not long ago!

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My Head Is Full Of Poison, and My Heart Is Full Of Doubt

A/n: Can't sleep, so I want to share this idea I have!

Warning: Angst!

I'm thinking of Qifrey, who, once a year, disappears for days. Nobody knows where he goes, except Olruggio has an idea of where Qifrey scampers off to in secret, though he doesn't get a direct answer from the man himself.

Qifrey puts on the cheerful, whimsical teacher act he's perfected over the years. Thanking Olruggio for stepping up in his absence and bidding his little apprentices goodbye, teasing them that they'd better be on their best behavior for Olruggio.

Qifrey disappears for a week; two of those seven days are spent traveling to and from his destination. It's a remote village hidden in the forest, where the population barely reaches double digits.

When he arrives in the village, he visits the same cottage he's visited for years. His heart is filled with doubt, unsure whether he should continue this visit, which feels like a double-edged sword to his heart. He knocks on the door, and you open the door with dyes and paints tainted on your skin.

"Is it that time of year?" you ask, elated to see the white-haired man who visits you annually, ever since you offered him shelter from the rain.

"Qifrey the witch, at your service." With his pointed witch cap over his chest, over his heart, he smiles at you fondly.

He visits you annually under the guise of repaying the kindness you showed him years ago, but it's far from the truth. Qifrey has a selfish ulterior motive.

"Want to hear something silly?" you ask bashfully.

"Silly?" Qifrey inquires.

"I had a dream about us, and another boy with dark hair."

"Really?" It's hard to contain his composure, to stop his eye from widening or his teeth from clenching. His hands clutch at his robes anxiously, heart beating from his chest. "What were we doing?"

"It's going to sound weird, but we were drawing circles. I think we were trying to perfect drawing them." You murmur, your finger tracking circles on the wooden table. "And you spilled ink on the other boy's paper, and...it's weird, right?"

"It's not weird—"

"I've been getting those dreams a lot recently," you cut him off. "Dreams that feel like memories of another life. You, me, and the mysterious boy."

Memories of another life—a life ripped from you. A mistake that cost you your memories and identity at the hands of the Knights Moralis.

Qifrey visits you because he can't bear a life without you, even if you'll never see him as the Qifrey you once knew—the one you'd kiss on the lips and promise to love forever.

But maybe, with your memories appearing as dreams, there's a way to bring you back.

A/n: Does that make sense?!?! If it doesn't, let's blame it on my lack of sleep!

Imagine it like a slow burn for the reader, but for Qifrey, he's just trying to desperately have you back.

EDIT: If you're interested in the concept, here's chapter 1!

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Witch Duel

A/n: Just me rambling about an idea for a fic, which I think I will most definitely be writing soon!

Warning: Smut implied!

Qifrey x Reader x Olruggio

I'm imagining Qifrey, Olruggio, and the reader enjoying a night of drinking. They could be celebrating, or maybe it's just a night of casual drinking to unwind! But what really matters most is the bottles of alcohol that they've drunk to the bottom!

One playful comment from you strikes a chord with Olruggio, whose drunken smile fades. He stares down at Qifrey with a playful smirk, his voice deep, raspy, and challenging. His hand creeps onto your thigh, rubbing his coarse fingers up and down your skin, while Qifrey's softer hands glide along the other.

"Don't think we know how to please a woman, that right?"

"Should we teach you a thing or two?"

2 v 1 witch duel, in which Qifrey and Olruggio use their 'magic' against you to prove a point.

Divider Credit: @uzmacchiato

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Going on a hiatus for Dr. Stone??

Ehhh, you probably saw it coming.

I think I got writer's block for it. Everything I write for it just seems the same. I get hit with inspiration to write for a fic, and as I write for it, I start to spiral and feel like I'm just writing the same thing over and over again. Can be two different fic ideas, but when I write, it feels the same.

Also, I feel insecure posting on this blog, which is funny cuz I shouldn't, cuz it's mine??? I've become hesitant to tag anything I write for Senku with the Senku x reader tag because I don't feel like my work deserves it, because I'm not really writing in the AU of the anime/manga, and it's more of a modern AU. Weird thing to fret about, since a lot of fanfics take a modern AU approach nowadays (from what I've seen).

Ngl, there are a couple of times where I felt like I wanted to start over by deleting this blog (I've been talked out of it by a mutual), just so I don't have to worry about the requests still sitting in my inbox, or realizing how time is moving fast yet slow, and it's been months since I last updated a fic....

Anyway, I think it's best I take a break from writing anything Doctor Stone-related before I do anything drastic. I'm still going to be active on this blog by uploading drabbles and hopefully a fic, for Witch Hat Atelier!

I'm still very much in love with Doctor Stone, so I will be back to finish up my fics, but I'm struggling to enjoy writing for it at the moment. I might post some art for dcst, since I'm getting back into enjoying art! I got a new sketchbook and some paints I want to try out!

I don't really know when this hiatus will be over?? Maybe after my summer class is over, or maybe a little longer. I'll write for DCST again when I'm ready.

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Listening to the song "The Cure " by Olivia Rodrigo reminds me of a trope I loved reading in middle school, Hanahaki disease.

I sort of imagine the reader having feelings for Senku, and she puts them aside because rebuilding civilization takes priority. In a slow progression, the symptoms begin to manifest, and before you know it, you're coughing up petals.

Not to sidetrack Senku with your disease, you keep it to yourself, and you try to find an antidote with someone else. You can't control who you love, but you try. But it's never enough.

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Sleepy Sex—Qifrey & Olruggio

A/n: It was only a matter of time before I let my freak show!

Warnings: Nipple-play, hand-jobs, cock-sniffing, messy blowjobs, oral-fem receiving....

Qifrey: Good Night

You see the muscles in his face twitch before he even realizes he's doing it again. His eyes flutter shut, jaw widening as his lips part, stretching wider until the sound that's been irritating you slips out.

"Haahhh," the yawn slips out loudly and tiredly from him. His arms stretch behind him as if trying to release every last bit of sleep that lingers on his body.

You don't think he's even aware that was his fifth yawn in what felt like less than a minute.

"Have you been sleeping well, Qifrey?" As much as his yawns annoyed you, the thought of him being unwell worried you more.

"I wish I could say that I have, but honestly," the light tinge of pink dusts his cheeks, his hand awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as a dopey smile creeps onto his lips, "I've been a little restless."

"Have you had any of the herbal tea Tetia prepared for you?"

"Down to the last drop," Qifrey murmurs, his head drooping onto your shoulder as he closes his eyes. He lies there, ready to accept even an ounce of the slight possibility of sleep.

There's a beat of silence before you whisper into his ear, and your words have the opposite effect of sleep. His eyes snap open, and his body jerks away from yours as he stiffens. His lips part again, but not because he's about to yawn—no, he's wide awake, heart beating out of his chest. His mouth opens and closes, at a loss for words.

"You…think that would work?" He doesn't reject your offer. Instead, he's flustered, flushed with red, as he looks at you wide-eyed.

"One way to find out."

The sun has set, and the moonlight creeps into Quifrey's bedroom.

You're sitting on his bed while he rests his head on your lap, his lips nursing at your breasts. Quiet, wet slurps as his lips suckle softly at your teat. His eyes flutter softly, quiet murmurs of moans slip from his mouth, tongue flicking your hardened nipple. It teases you, sensitive to the flicks of his tongue. A quiet whine slips from you as your body trembles slightly before you pay him back the favor.

Your hand, slick and intoxicated from his musk, slows its rhythm. You squeeze the shaft of his cock a little harder as you trail upwards. The pretty pink color of the head oozes the pearly white cum from its opening, dousing your fingers in its color.

The pace of your hand edges him. His hips buck impatiently into your hand, cock throbbing and pulsing in your magical touch. He can feel himself inching closer to release, and hopefully a good night's sleep. The tip of his cock weeps the pretty white down his length, forming slick milky white webs between your fingers, and a frothy white pooling at the base of his cock. His lips pull from your nipple with a satisfying 'pop,' and his eyes squeeze shut.

"I'm c-cumming," his voice stutters between the whiny gasp of his breath. His breath labors. Every breath matched the pulsating twitch of his cock. His hips snap upwards, back lifting off your lap as a sharp gasp echoes in the walls.

It was undeniable. He could feel the heavy drag of his eyelids with every blink, lips parted as he caught his breath. He was curled up, losing the fight to stay awake, but that was the whole point.

"Good night, Qifrey."

Olruggio: Good Morning

Olruggio had a terrible habit of sleeping in. Even when the sun crept through the window by his hammock-like bed, the warmth of the sheets pulled him back into a deep slumber. You were determined to make him an early bird—as Quifrey likes to call himself—but Olruggio was more of a black cat—curling into himself and napping in the morning sun. Maybe a little incentive would help.

For a moment, Olruggio suspects Coco's brush buddy has sneaked back into the room, but the movement is larger, a little heavier than a brush buddy's. With every movement, it emits a warmth that has him almost drifting back to sleep, were it not for the small, wet kisses traveling up his chest. Pulling the covers over himself, he's met with your coy smile and batting lashes.

"Oi, what's this?" his already gruff voice is rougher with the sleep that refuses to leave his body. His lidded, tired eyes stare at yours that twinkle with bits of mischief. "It's too damn early in the morning."

"Really?" you purr at him. Your feverish hands rest on his chest, slithering down until they catch the hem of his pants. "I just want to make sure you have a good morning…"

You tug his pants down, and Olruggio sits up, making it easier for you. He's slouched against the brick wall, eyes still heavy with sleep, watching as you do your magic.

Your fingers playfully squeeze the muscles of his thigh, massaging away the knots of tension. Your warm breath hits his stirring cock, hardening with every peckish kiss. A deep chuckle slips from his lips as he watches you burrow yourself into the patch of dark hair between his legs. His ears pick up the dark pants of your breath, bathing yourself in his musk.

Your kisses grow heavier… sloppier. Your slobber bathes his cock, drowning it in your essence. Puffy lips drag up and down the length of his girthy cock. You're too much of a tease for him, especially when it's too early in the morning for him.

With a final kiss, you pull back, and a trail of spit follows you.

"That's it?" his voice betrays him, coming off more needy than he intended.

"You're awake, aren't you?"

"What you gave me was a morning kiss," Olruggio leans forward, grabbing you by your hips. His fingers catch at the hem of your loose sleepwear, pulling the thin sleep shorts off until your pantied, clothed pussy stares right at his salivating mouth. "Waiting for my good morning."

"Every good morning starts with a hearty breakfast, wouldn't you agree?"

"I do."

Olruggio doesn't waste a second before your underwear pools around your ankles, and his thick, large fingers spread the folds of your cunt apart. A slick shine webs between them, and his mouth latches on. His tongue laps upwards between your pulsating pussy, your withering legs, shaking in his hands, ticklish from the gruff hair of his beard. A deep groan rumbles from his chest, nose nudging your swollen, needy clit. Your slick runs down his chin, and you're pulling at his dark, messy bed hair.

If a weeping pussy is the reward he gets for waking up early (on time), he wouldn't mind putting in the effort once in a while.

A/n: I had a plot...then I lost it!

Unless I saw it wrong, but Olruggio's bed is the hammock attached to the brick wall, right?!?! I mean...imagining riding him and hearing the chains rattling with every bounce on his cock...imagine if y'all break the bed. RAHHH FUCKING IN THE AIR IN A FULL NELSON!!!! I mean, what??? Who said that!!!

[yummyrevivalfluid]

Light Up The Night

Warning: Light Smut! Just a small drabble of an idea I had!

Just the thought of being in Olruggio's room, where the atmosphere always seems to contradict the magic he specializes in. Even with the heat radiating off his chest, sticky with sweat, clammy against your back, the cold air pricks your skin. Your nipples harden against the numbing cold of his tile floor.

With each thrust of his hips, you struggle to stay upright, knocking your chest against the ground, lighting up the darkness of his room. The lights of the titles flicker. Bursts of light that come and go, seeping through the cracks of the lone window in his room, confusing Quifrey, who just so happens to be approaching the atelier.

When the inevitable moment approaches, when you're coming undone, you slump against the ground, lighting the room once more, giving Olruggio a clear sight of you.

Divider credit: @uzmacchiato

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A Gentle Kind Of Magic

Jealous Sex HC's with Qifrey

A/n: He's lowkey clingy...Sleepy/lazy sex with Olruggio next??

Jealous sex with Qifrey doesn't mean his hips snapping against your ass at a brutal pace, or his touch straying far from the gentle touch you've become accustomed to—although his touch is not as tender as it was.

Jealous sex with Qifrey isn't him verbally degrading you or teasing you more than he normally does.

Jealous sex with Qifrey is him trying to find comfort in you. Every word that slips from his lips is a plea for security. When you try to hold your sweet moans from his ears, he grips your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye, and with a pitiful beg, "Let me hear you. Let me hear the efforts of my love."

Qifrey's thrusts are paradoxical. Slow and sensual quickly becomes frantic and sloppy. There is no sense to his motions when he struggles to comprehend his jealousy. He's not mad at you, but the world itself. He doesn't want to hurt you, but he has no other outlet for these vile feelings brewing in his heart.

Jealous sex with Qifrey means a lot more marks around your neck that resemble the ring of the glyphs he's always making. They're scattered around your neck, shoulders, and inner thighs.

Kisses are deep and a fight you can't win. His tongue explores the crevice of your mouth, dominating your tongue in his yearning. His kisses go beyond just your lips. His lips trail down your body, taking your breast in his mouth while his hands feverishly knead at your skin. His touch isn't as gentle as it usually is. It's desperate. His fingers dig into your skin, kneading it between his fingers while his hips hump against you pathetically.

Every moan, whine, and cry is magic to his ears. He pleases you so that you can scream to the world that you are his.

"Tell me how good I make you feel."

"Don't be shy darling, let me hear you."

"I love you…I love everything about you…you love me too, right?"

Jealousy, sexy with Qifrey is comforting a man whose insecurity got the better of him!

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Just thinking about being in a sort of arranged marriage with Easthies, and Qifrey being the sort of rule-bender, breaks that arrangement apart.

It doesn't take Qifrey much effort to woo you, not when it's like day and night compared to how Easthies treats you. Qifrey being the reason the marriages don't go through is one of the many reasons why Easthies despise Qifrey.

Future fic idea???

[yummyrevivalfluid]

Dating Qifrey + Jealous Qifrey HC's

A/n: I'm an anime only, so I'm trying my best! Sorry if it's too ooc!

Qifrey isn't someone who gets jealous easily. His demeanor is often calm, gentle, and nurturing. He speaks softly to others and to you, though you receive a little more than they do; his words are laced with love and adoration he reserves only for you.

His words are tender, and his actions are even more so. He greets you with a morning kiss as you're just beginning to stir up, blinking away the sleep. He teases you with a nickname as you whine to stay in bed a little longer.

When you're in bed with him, he finds it comforting to wrap his arm around your waist, pulling your body flush against his as he burrows his face into the crevice between your neck and shoulder. He spends the night whispering everything that comes to mind. What he's done for the day, how the girls are doing in their studies, and how much he's missed you.

Qifrey isn't afraid to show his love, though it's rather tame. He gently takes your hand in his, pressing his lips to the back of your palm before interlacing his fingers with yours. It's a tradition—a sort of ritual between the two of you before he holds your hand in his.

When he kisses you in front of others, it's quick and not as intimate as the ones he gives you behind closed doors. Just a quick peck on your forehead, followed by the most loving tone, "I'll be back before you know it."

Kisses, from prying eyes, are a lot more intimate. He cups your cheek, tilting your head back as he leans down for a kiss, and it's much more than just a quick peck. His lips move slowly against yours. His breath quickens, tongue teasing the bottom of your lips before it pushes into your mouth. Kissing him could take hours, especially when, between every kiss, his praise for you drips effortlessly from his tongue.

Qifrey is confident in his relationship with you. He doesn't doubt your loyalty, nor should you doubt his.

Qifrey doesn't get jealous easily. He's way too secure in his relationship for jealousy to ever take hold of his rationality. But when he does get jealous, the soft, every-so-gentle Qifrey you know is replaced by something colder.

This cold, nerve-wracking attitude isn't directed towards you, nor is the threatening tone in his voice. There's an icy cold look in his blue eye, staring down at the poor soul who's managed to break his demeanor.

He becomes possessive, and the soft touch turns mean. He grabs your wrist, pulling you away from the source of his jealousy, only after ambiguously threatening the poor soul. His confidence wavers, asking for reassurance with quiet pleas.

With praises and kisses, Qifrey gets jealous only for a moment.

A/N: THAT STARE HE DID AT THE END OF EP 5?!?!? OH MY GOODNESS! It makes me want to write jealous sex!! If this wasn't too ooc, I might give it a go!