#I know I said I was going to wait and spread these out

[crushpunky]

drew and actress!reader play the vanity fair game show

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

based off the OBX3 interview + suggested by this ask <3

“I am Madelyn Cline and we are here to test how well we know each other.” Madelyn said into the camera, sitting in the “hot seat”. The rest of her OBX costars sat opposite her in two rows, shoulder to shoulder and grinning ear to ear. Drew sat in the back, along with Rudy, JD, and Austin, where y/n sat in the front with Madison, Carlacia, and Chase. Drew wore a light purple blazer, a color the boys had made sure to tease him for all day, but he didn’t mind. Y/n liked the color on him, so of course he was going to wear it.

“... and we’re the cast of Outer Banks!” Madison and Carlacia said, the rest of the cast joining them and waving at the camera. Madison put her head down with a giggle before composing herself and straightening up once more. Y/n could feel Drew’s fingers combing lightly through her hair, playing with the ends as they waited for the game to begin. She looked back at him, grinning at his long, tousled hair. He smiled back, his fingers continuing to run through her hair as they focused back on the game.

“Ok, first question: which astrological sign do I like the most other than mine?” Madelyn said, the end of her marker resting on her lip as she thought. Quickly, the room burst into shouts and guesses, everyone clamoring to win the very first point of the game. Drew stood from his chair, craning his neck to see what Madelyn’s card read.

“Hey, no cheating!” Y/n pointed at him, a mischievous smirk spreading across his face before he sat back down.

“I’m gonna say Gemini.” Drew said, raising his eyebrows as he glanced into the camera.

“Gemini women. Yes.” Madelyn replied, giving Drew the first point. The rest of the cast booed playfully, Drew patting himself on the back as Madelyn’s turn continued. Once she asked her last question, it was Drew’s turn in the hot seat.

“Y/n has to wait to answer.” JD said, the cast turning to y/n, her mouth falling open.

“That is definitely not in the rules!” Y/n laughed, rolling her eyes.

“Now they are.” Rudy said with a shrug.

“Ok, what is my secret talent? Bonus, where did I learn my talent?” Drew read, looking over the question card at his co-stars until his eyes met y/n’s. She narrowed her eyes, trying to read into what Drew was going to write on the card, after all, he was a man of many talents.

“Sleeping.” Carlacia said.

“You play piano?” Austin guessed.

“See what’s happening is you're just giving me a lot of ideas.” Drew said, taking the cap off of his marker as he prepared to finalize his answer.

“Oh, write it down, I know it.” Y/n said waving her hand for him to write faster. Once he finished, Drew looked at her to answer.

“Juggling.” She answered, Drew flipping the card around to reveal his answer: juggling/insomnia.

“Question two: what’s my favorite food?” Drew grinned, writing his answer down quickly.

“Mama Jodi’s casserole!” The cast said in unison, Drew nodding as he flipped the card around.

“Almost burned down the apartment complex cooking that one time.” Chase pointed out, causing Drew to gasp.

“That was actually y/n’s fault.” Drew said, pointing a finger at y/n who scoffed.

“You were the one that was distracting me!” Y/n shot back, raising her hands in surrender as she thought of the memory. It had been Drew’s birthday and y/n had decided to surprise him with his favorite casserole. However, the two of them had gotten so entranced in an intense game of Mario Kart that she completely forgot about the food in the oven… until the smoke alarm went off.

“Fine, I will take some blame… only a little bit.” Drew cracked a smile as he shuffled onto the next card.

“Last question: who is my celebrity crush?” Drew scowled, biting his lip as he thought.

“Y/n y/ln.” Rudy said quickly. A small smirk spread across Drew’s lips as he hurriedly wrote his answer down, the rest of the cast hooting and hollering as y/n covered her face with her hands and a flush spread to her cheeks.

“Yeah, that’s correct…” Drew said bashfully, scratching his jaw. “I don’t think she likes me though, if I’m being honest.”

“Definitely not.” Madelyn teased, nudging y/n’s arm playfully.

The game continued, each member of the cast having their turn into their hot seat until it was finally y/n’s turn.

“Drew has to wait to answer.” Y/n said, pointing at Drew. His mouth fell open, his competitive nature kicking in as he groaned.

“The rules, Starkey.” Austin said, shaking his shoulder lightly as y/n picked up her first card.

“What is my favorite movie?” Y/n asked, pausing to think of her answer before writing it down.

“La La Land? The Lego Movie? Moulin Rouge?” Chase guessed, attempting to rattle off as many guesses as possible.

“Pitch Perfect!” Madison said with a giggle, to which y/n nodded.

“Yes, very big Pitch Perfect fan.” Y/n responded. The cast had many memories of watching (and performing) the movie during quarantine when all of them were confined to their shared apartment complex.

“Next question: what is my go-to karaoke song?” Y/n raised her eyebrows as she wrote her answer down on the card.

“Something Taylor Swift, yeah?” Madelyn asked.

“Surprisingly, no.” Y/n laughed. Drew and y/n had hosted many karaoke nights in their shared apartment, the entire cast fitting onto their sofa to sing and dance the night away. The two of them had even gone as far as buying a karaoke machine, complete with mics and lights. It was quite a hit.

“Oh my god, I know it—” Rudy said, snapping his fingers as he searched for the right answer.

“Alanis Morisette...” Drew whispered, to which y/n scowled at him.

“You Oughta Know!” Madelyn cheered, stealing Rudy’s answer with a giggle.

“Yep, that’s right… thank you, Drew.” Y/n said, quirking an eyebrow at Drew who just smiled back. Y/n shuffled her cards for a moment, drawing out the final question.

“Oh boy, last one...” Y/n said dramatically, the cast letting out a string of “ooohs” as y/n cleared her throat.

“What’s my on set snack?” Y/n read, quickly scribbling down her answer as her co-stars looked between each other. Drew sat there, a smug grin on his face as he watched their castmates struggle to answer the very simple question.

“I literally had the same snack every single day.” Y/n said, hoping to direct her co-stars in the right direction.

“I never had the same break time as you two, that’s not fair!” Carlacia said, turning to face Drew who simply shrugged.

“The answer was pickles.” Y/n said, turning the card around to reveal her answer.

“What kind? We need specifics.” JD asked, quirking his brow.

“Dill. The ones in the bag.” Drew answered for y/n, who simply nodded.

“And with that, we are the cast of Outer Banks…” Y/n led, gesturing to her friends opposite her.

“Thanks for watching!” The cast said in unison, waving to the camera.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Blue Magic

How I imagine the lads men (pre-relationship) react to you verbally enjoying them gently greasing your scalp. A/N: This one is specifically for my black girls and anyone with thick hair who understands what it's like to have to grease your scalp. Also for those who understand what it was like growing up with your momma and aunties brushing your neck, ears, forehead, and inner most thoughts. Getting popped with the comb for moving too much and the dread of knowing they’re about to pull out that hot comb. [Requested by: Anon]

Summary: He was always curious when you would turn down plans because you needed to wash your hair. He never understood why you had Wash Days instead of just a quick wash while you're showering. Since you had a crush on him you took the time to explain how your hair is different from his and how there's no such thing as a quick wash while showering for you. You decided to let him see what all goes into your Wash Days. Now here you were sitting crisscross on the floor in front of your full length mirror surrounded by all your hair tools. You just finished blow drying your hair in four sections and it was a relief to drop your arms and relax them for a while. You hung your head knowing that you had one last step to do before you could lay down.

“Do you need some help?”

Zayne

Zayne would be so meticulous with his hands as if he were actually doing surgery on your hair. He would be so gentle gliding the rat tail comb through your roots and gently spreading the grease on your scalp and slightly massaging as he went. “I’ve never had someone be this gentle with my scalp” You couldn’t help, but sigh however your sighs seemed to come out as soft whimpers. “Right there, scratch right there” he did exactly as you said and felt his ears getting hot in the process. Hearing you moan and whimper out soft “That feels so good” and “wait wait massage right there” followed by the most sultry sound he’s ever heard come out of you.

Nearly halfway through he's standing at attention. His nerves are on edge and he doesn't want you to see him like this. "I’m sorry, but I have to head home I have an early out-patient to attend to in the morning" You turn suddenly making him jump. "We're only half done" Your words came out more whiney than you intended.

You’re a little confused at his sudden need to leave, but you nod and stand to walk him to the door. "I'll make it up to you. Good Night." You don’t miss the very obvious bulge in his pants as he quickly grabs his coat and slips out your front door.

Rafayel

Rafayel is unintentionally rough as hell when he starts parting your hair. “Ow! why are you tugging so hard?!” You smack his hands away opting to do it yourself, but he begs to try again and you give in to those big puppy dog eyes he has. “Be gentle!”

Second time around he’s so gentle it almost feels like a lovers touch as he massages the section of your hair before going through with the rat tail comb like you showed him. You can’t help the noises that escape out of you as he smears just the right amount of grease on your scalp. “Are you always this vocal during this process?” He asks in almost a whisper. You try to turn to look at him, but he quickly snaps your head back towards the mirror, hiding his face behind your head. “It feels good when someone else does it” Another sigh leaves you as he keeps going “Please don’t stop” Once he reaches the last section you end up leaning slightly back into him and thats when you feel something poking your lower back.

Y/N: Raf are you…..are you turned on? Rafayel: You’re the one moaning my name while im doing this! Y/N: So it’s my fault? Rafayel: YES Y/N: pokes it Rafayel: do that again and im calling the authorities

He quickly excused himself out of the room while you cleaned up your mess of hair products.

Xavier

Xavier is hanging on by a single worn thread while he’s greasing your scalp. He can barely make it through the first section before he’s already nearly panting listening to you moan “Thank you Xavier” Hearing his name on your lips like that had him near feral. “You’re welcome” He whispered in a raspy tone. You feel him constantly adjusting his position and clearing his throat while he slowly works his way through the next section of hair. “Right there rub right there” You whimper and he inhales deeply as he does as you say. “Right here?” His voice is low and gravelly it actually sends tingles through your body.

Xavier literally can’t take it. His composure was slipping the minute you sighed his name. He managed you finish the job only to turn and tilt your head back to look in your eyes. The tension was always thick between you two. His gaze bounced from your eyes to your lips and you melted when he whispered “Can I kiss you?”

Sylus

Sylus is outing you right then and there he don’t care. The minute you whimper from his fingers gliding across your scalp he’s smirking. He’s so gentle while he does it you almost forget this is a Mafia Don that you have greasing your scalp in the middle of the night. “People would get the wrong idea if they could hear you now” He teased in that sultry voice of his. You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you that quickly dissipated the second he started massaging your scalp again. “It just feels so good” You whimper again while he slowly works his way through your hair. “I can tell”

He would be able to hold his composure throughout the entire process and by the time he’s done you can finally think clearly. You quickly slip your bonnet on and turn to face him thats when you notice his red cheeks and ears. “You’re never going to do this for me again will you?” You see the corner of his mouth quirk upwards.

He’s enjoying this.

“I don’t mind making you moan again” You shove his shoulder and he just chuckles as you pound your fist into his chest. “You owe me a scalp massage now sweetie”

[rikkiz]

Can you do Ni-ki when reader feels insecure so he makes her feel good while telling her how pretty she is?

-🐥anon

Insecurities - Nishimura Riki

You had been in a sour mood all day, and it was clear to your boyfriend that you'd been abnormally quiet the whole time you'd been hanging out. He didn't say anything at first because there were times you'd get in moods like this and then it'd simply go away but today, it didn't seem to be getting any better.

You were laying on his bed as he watched something on the TV. You were watching with him on the little couch in his room before but then suddenly got up and told him that you were going to lay down.

Riki got up and quietly went over to you, resting his hand on your shoulder as he looked down at you from where he stood. You glanced up at him.

"What's wrong, baby? Are you sick?" He asked.

"No." You murmured in response.

"Then, what's going on?" Riki questioned further.

"Nothing." You lie.

Riki sighed as he got in bed beside you, laying beside you before pulling you against him. "I know when you're lying, Y/n." He said. "Tell me what's going on."

You sighed, "I feel like shit."

"So, you do feel sick?" Riki asked.

"No." You groaned.

"Baby, I'm just trying to understand. Just tell me what you mean then?" Riki asked, trying to remain patient with you.

"I feel ugly." You said, finally being truthful and not vague with your response.

"You feel ugly?" Riki asked and you nodded. "You're nowhere near ugly. Why do you feel that way?" He wondered as his hand softly caressed your face.

"I just do." You mumbled out.

Riki's hand went down to your hip as he rubbed it softly, "I wish you knew how beautiful I find you. You're always so pretty to me, no matter what."

"Don't lie." You tell him.

"I'm not lying." He says as he gently pushes you so that you're lying flat on your back against the mattress. He then slowly got over you, holding himself up.

"What are you doing?" You asked as you looked up at him.

"Need you to know how pretty you are to me." Riki said before pressing a soft kiss on your lips and leaning back so that he could kneel between your legs. He tugged on the waistband of your pajama shorts, looking up at you, waiting for permission.

You just nodded, you kind of did this, maybe it would make you feel a bit better, you thought. He lifted your legs up and pulled your shorts and undies off before spreading your legs again.

He then scooted back a bit and leaned down, pressing soft kisses on your inner thighs. "I love you so much." He murmured against your skin as he kissed you before making his way to your core.

Riki began to place soft kisses on your pretty pussy before sliding his tongue up and down it. You were a moaning mess, but at the same time, you were on the verge of tears as you whimpered out.

Riki prodded his tongue at your entrance before focusing on the outer area, sloppily making out with your pussy at this point. Your hands were gripping the blanket as he ate you hungrily, desperate to show you how pretty he found you.

You were literally sobbing at this point, both from pleasure and being overwhelmed by your emotions. Riki didn't say anything about you sobbing because he knew you just needed to cry it out as he continued to devour your kitty.

To be honest, it didn't take long for you to be cumming all over his lips and he licked it all up, licking an extra stripe over your sensitive clit before finally pulling away, wiping his face with his hand as he watched you continue to quietly cry.

He went closer, holding himself up over you on the mattress, your legs spread, down there still bare, as he pressed his clothed crotch against you. Riki leaned in and kissed you for a few moments, neither of you caring that he literally just ate you out, before pulling back.

"You don't need to be insecure. I know you can't help it sometimes but really, I need you to know that I think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen and I'm not just saying that because you're my girlfriend. I promise, baby." Riki softly spoke. "I love you." He added.

You sniffled as you wiped your tears, "I love you too." You responded softly as you hugged him closer.

[savanir]

so I got Steve Trevor;

From one highly stressful situation to the next it seems, Steve really wishes his gun didn’t get misplaced.

Especially considering he’s absolutely not where he was less than a minute ago, considering the endless void of… green.

Why is it always green…

“What the fuck” He’s keeping his stance ready for anything while trying to get his bearings at least somewhat, he seems to be surrounded by ruins, somewhat familiar looking ruins.

“You have experience with Pandora’s box, correct?” 

Steve quickly turns around and has his arms loose and ready, slightly up to either defend or attack.

In front of him is a floating��� boy?

“Hello” the slightly glowing, black and white clad teen gives him a lazy little wave, cheeky sort. alright then.

“Where the hell am I?”

"Good guess but that's a little more to the left from here"

"What?"

The teen’s expression shifts to something more serious, "Listen, the box got stolen and I need someone with knowledge about the damn thing that can also inconspicuously come with me and isn't bound by dumb ancient rules to help me out with getting it back where it belongs. You came recommended by Pandora so..."

“Are you serious- wait, Pandora as in the Pandora?”

"Yes, Lady Pandora, keeper of the box with the ancient evils or whatever. Of course she knows about you, like I said you have prior experience with dealing with this thing- you are Steven Trevor right? Consort to princess Diana of Themyscira?"

"Consort-" Alright okay so this is really happening, it’s spread to other dimensions now or something? he rubs the bridge of his nose, he could use a good stiff drink to handle this revelation.

"Partner, boyfriend, whatever, listen we need to stay focused here" the teen claps his hands, it actually does effectively grab Steve’s attention back.

"Right, yes that's me. I'm, fuck you're telling me that fucking thing-?"

"Yes, and I could really use a hand here with solving this mess please. Oh uhm, Danny Phantom, nice to meet you.” Danny holds his hand out and Steve gives him a handshake. so the kid knows about the basic typical earth greeting. good to know.

“Now, we got no time to lose, I'll be sure to put you right back where I found you once we're done so no worries"

Well Steve doesn't really want that cause he was in the process of getting kidnapped when he got dragged through a swirling green portal. sadly his attackers confiscated his gun so he’s currently very unarmed but he’d take it if it means he’s not at risk of getting tortured for Justice League intel and used as bait to lure the heroes in. 

"Just drop me off in Washington DC. I'd prefer that"

"Whatever you want bud" Danny grins and leads him towards a different portal in the distance.

Steve figures it’s in his best interest to go along with everything for now but once his comms stop being dead he’ll notify the Justice League immediately. Still though, something in his gut tells him that this kid isn’t bad news. 

He has this weird feeling that Diana would like him.

Use this random DC character wheel to write a dpxdc prompt, fanfic, or blurb below! (Or just say what ya got ehehe)

[endless-ineffabilities]

untitled #4838372901 a.k.a. Freyja tries to find her Ewan Mitchell smut-writing voice.

Consider this a taster as this is being decided.

Your boyfriend had been insatiable, well into the wee hours of the morning, his cock still pounding your increasingly tender pussy even as the first rays of sunlight flickered through your bedroom curtains.

After last night, you know breakfast is going to be a challenge.

Ewan was determined to be make you cum a fourth time, and he had. Leave it to your boyfriend to be as dedicated to helping his love reach her pleasure as he is to the craft of acting.

He first held you lovingly, your legs wrapped around his waist in missionary, which eventually anchored on his shoulders as his hips maintained their gentle rhythm. His length burying to the hilt, covered in the juices of your cunny, then sliding back out. And a hundred times over, until your fingernails dug soft half-moon craters into his skin as you came all over his cock. Legs shaking, vision hazy, mind in a state of euphoria, you thought that was it. Time to clean up a little, and fall asleep in Ewan's deserving arms. But no.

He turned you over, a chill breeze whooshing around your languid form. With the side of your face pressed against the sheets, he raised your hips in the air and spread your legs. Then proceeded to lap at your release.

"Fffuuucck," you mewled, muffled by the cotton. Ewan moaned from his position, his tongue twirling and darting all over your cunt, taking two long fingers and burying them in your aching hole. "Mmm, y'taste so sweet, baby," he panted, licking away, his slurping noises sounding so obscene in the otherwise silent room.

It only took him a few sloppy tugs before he was fully erect again. In that new position, he eased himself in without warning, palms braced on the soft flesh of your arse. So began round two.

And now, your knees feel like they're going to give way as you whisk pancake batter in your kitchen.

The culprit himself materialises behind you, his bare arms encasing your waist. Clad in only a pair of grey Adidas sweatpants, with his chiseled torso in full view, you would fall right into his lusty snare, if that was not what you were doing the whole night.

But you're tired, and extremely fucked out as they say. It dawns on you that the same cannot be said for him, when you feel little Ewan making yet another appearance against your arse.

"Are you fucking kidding me? How?"

Ewan's laugh is muffled, his face pressed to the nape of your neck.

"I dunno, ducky. Can you blame me?"

"Ewan!"

"I can wait until after breakfast," he reassures you, as if it makes it any better. "Maybe."

[kaynanarie]

Eyes of Gold (Part 2)

(A WukongxReader story inspired by Beauty and the Beast and Lutung Kasarung.) (Part 1)

            While staying in a cave did offered protection, the same could not be said for a good night’s sleep. You tossed and turned on the stone floor, kept awake by the noises of the forest and the constant itching of your skin. When dawn broke, you were still tired but happy to have survived your first night on the mountain.

            With the morning light came your new monkey friend, Shihou. He appeared at the cave entrance carrying various fruits for breakfast.

            “Good morning!” he greeted, tail swaying cheerfully despite the early hour. You grumbled in reply, picking out a peach to munch on. Shihou grabbed a fruit for himself and sat by your knee. “So, I spoke with the King about you.”

            Anxiety woke you like a cold plunge, your appetite suddenly gone. “He’s not going to kill and eat me, is he?” you asked cautiously.

            “Eat you?!” Shihou burst into high pitched, chittering laughter. “Of course not! On the contrary, he officially welcomes you as his honored guest. The King also gave me some good news about your so-called ‘curse’.”

            It was the first positive thing you had heard relating to the Monkey King. “What did he say? Does he know a cure?”

            “Well, you see…” When Shihou held out his paw, you could see a similar rash across his palm. Knowing he now shared your affliction filled your heart with guilt and shame.

            “I’m so sorry!” you cried, backing away. “I didn’t think it was contagious.”

            Shihou waved his hands, trying to calm you down. “It’s okay, I’m fine. You’re not contagious. This is where I grabbed your sleeve yesterday,” he said, pointing to your robes. “It’s not a disease; it’s poison ivy. Someone must have ground up some dried leaves and put the powder in your clothes. That’s what’s causing your rash.”

            You tugged at your robes curiously, noticing that everywhere they touched was where the rash had spread. Instantly, you knew who was responsible. “This seems like something my sister would pull.”

            “Perhaps,” Shihou shrugged. “But it’s nothing that can’t be cured. Hurry up and eat, I have something to show you.”

            With a flick of his tail, the monkey scampered out of the cave. You quickly finished your breakfast and stepped outside, finding Shihou waiting in one of the trees. Seeing you, he leapt to another branch, waving for you to follow. “Come on, peach friend! You’re wasting the sun’s time!”

            “Peach friend?” you asked with a giggle, keeping pace with his swings and jumps.

            “Yep! You shared a peach with me so now we’re peach friends!”

            As you walked, the distant sound of rushing water grew louder until the forest gave way. Beyond the trees, a waterfall tumbled from the peak of the mountain, cascading into a crystal blue river below. All the surrounding trees were green and laden with colorful flowers and fruits despite the wintery season back in the village.

            “Over here, peach friend!” Shihou called from the riverbank. Next to him was a folded bundle of clothes and plants organized into piles. “These herbs should help with your rash. If you bathe and wash your robes out, you’ll be healed in no time.”

             “You want me to wash here? In the river? Out in the open?” you asked, glancing around. “What if someone sees me?”

            Shihou just laughed. “You’re the only human on the mountain.”

            “What about demons? I don’t want them spying on me, either.”

            “Only Monkey King’s subjects come this close to the waterfall,” Shihou said. When he noticed you still weren’t convinced, he sighed and patted your knee in reassurance. “I’ll keep watch if you want but this place is pretty private.”

            You gave him a skeptical look. “And you aren’t going to peek?”

            He waved your concerns away with a scoff. “I’m going to be too busy making your medicine over here. Now hurry up, your rash will only get worse at this rate.”

            Shihou turned away and started mixing leafy fronds and purple flowers together before smashing them with a stone. With your given privacy, you shimmied out of your robes and slipped into the pool at the base of the waterfall.

            The water was cool but not cold, immediately soothing the itch and burn of your rash. You gently scrubbed your skin and rinsed away the dirt from your night in the woods. By the time you swam back to shore, you felt clean and refreshed.

            You found Shihou lounging on a tree branch above the water. His ears perked as you splashed closer but his eyes remained respectfully closed. “Rub the paste on your skin; it’ll stop the itch and speed up the healing process. There are some clean clothes over there as well.”

            The plants had been mashed into a green poultice and left waiting on a stone. You rubbed the medicine over the worst of your rash, already feeling the soothing tingle as it started to work. Once you and the paste were dry, you unfolded the waiting clothes and quickly dressed.

            “Where did you get these robes?” you asked, feeling the silky material under your curious hands. It was smooth and light as a breeze against your sensitive skin. Delicately embroidered clouds decorated the hem while ornate swirls flowed down the sleeves. Despite being from a noble family, you had never worn anything so extravagant before.

            One of Shihou’s golden eyes peeked open before he sat up, looking quite pleased to see you in his fancy clothes.

            “The King sent them,” he answered, a smug satisfaction in his cheeky smile. “Consider them a welcome gift.”

            The robes suddenly feel much heavier draped over you. “These are much too precious, I can’t except such royal clothes. They’ll be ruined in the forest.”

            “Don’t you know it’s rude to reject a King’s gift?” Shihou’s mood suddenly grew annoyed. The gold of his staring eyes seemed to faintly glow, a frown pulled at his lips, and his tail dangling from the tree swished in irritated lashes. “Besides,” he continued, gesturing to the pile of discarded clothing. “What else do you have to wear while your old robes still need washing?”

            It was strange to be chastised by a monkey but his logic was sound. Even if wearing gifted robes from the Monkey King himself seemed strange, you had few other options. Even worse, you had offended your new friend by insulting his King.

            “I’m sorry. I meant no disrespect,” you finally amended. “Would you be willing to pass on my thanks for your King’s generosity?”

            Shihou’s bristling softened at your acceptance. “You can thank him yourself. He’s invited you to stay at his palace in the mountain once you’ve healed up.”

            “His palace?!” you gasped, careful not to reject the offer as you fought down your growing alarm. “Why?”

            “You’re his honored guest, remember? I’ll lead you up the mountain myself once preparations are ready.” A sly smile lit up Shihou’s face. “Unless you’d rather stay in your cozy little cave down here?”

            Your answering grimace sent him into peals of howling laughter.

            “Fine,” you sighed, crossing your arms in defeat. “As long as the preparations don’t involve me being dinner.”

            He shook his head with a chuckle. “I swear, no one will put you on the menu no matter how tasty you look. I already promised I wouldn’t let anything happen to you and I plan to keep my word.” Despite his teasing words, Shihou’s tone was surprisingly serious.

            “I trust you to keep me safe,” you said, grateful for whatever protection he could provide.

            “I’m honored to do so. Now that that’s settled!” Dropping from his perch, Shihou landed on your shoulder, throwing you off balanced as he clung to the fabric of your robe. On instinct, your hand reached up to steady him as you found your footing. His golden-brown fur was surprisingly soft, almost as silky as your new robe. Instead of shying away from your touch, he leaned into it, chirruping at your tentative pets. Once he was satisfied, Shihou shook himself to focus and pointed at the tampered clothes. “Laundry time. Let’s get rid of this poison ivy mess, peach friend!”

[dae-chwiita]

A Little Too Late, A Little Too Drunk

Pairing : San X reader

Summary : You keep ignoring San and his drunk self can't handle it.

TW : drunk San, jealousy, kind of corny ? idk fluff fluff fluff

_________________

The room buzzed with laughter, music, and the faint clink of glasses, noises that matched your troubled emotions. The party was in full swing, yet it felt as though you were outside looking in—especially when your gaze inevitably found its way to San.

There he was, all sharp lines and soft smiles, his laughter booming over the music as he chatted with the girl you’d seen with the group before. She was beautiful, confident, and far too comfortable with him for your liking. It wasn't the first time you saw her; always hanging out with the guys recently.

You turned away quickly, heart twisting. It wasn’t as though you had any claim over him—San didn’t know about the feelings that had grown for almost a year now, feelings that had steadily grown into an ache every time he smiled at someone prettier who wasn’t you.

It was easier to ignore him, to let the sting of jealousy numb you, rather than risk exposing your vulnerability. That burning jealousy made it impossible to even look his way, you couldn't let your overflowing feelings see the light of day. If he found out, your friendship would be gone ! How could San want someone like you, when he could have someone like her ?

“Hey, come on.” Wooyoung nudged your shoulder, pulling you back to the moment. “You’ve been in your head all night. Let’s grab a drink.”

“Sure,” you murmured, looking at your empty cup, hoping the distraction would help. But even as you followed Wooyoung toward the makeshift bar, your eyes betrayed you, darting once again to San.

He was still with her, but something was off. His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and he kept glancing around, searching for… something.

---

San was restless.

He should’ve been enjoying himself—Yujin was funny, and she’d been a friend for years. But no matter how hard he tried to engage in the conversation, his mind kept drifting. Where were you?

You’d been distant all evening, barely sparing him a glance. Every attempt he made to catch your attention was met with a polite, detached smile or a quick excuse to leave.

It was driving him mad.

San’s grip tightened around his drink as Yujin’s laugh pulled him back to reality. She was saying something, her voice soft, but he didn’t register a word. All he could think about was the way you had been avoiding him.

He wanted to call out to you, but you were with Wooyoung again, laughing loudly at something he’d said. San’s chest tightened, an unfamiliar burn spreading through him.

His thoughts spiraled as Yujin leaned closer, resting a hand on his arm. “San,” she purred, her voice cutting through the haze, “you’re so distracted. Is it me, or is there something else on your mind?”

Before he could respond, you passed by, your laughter with Wooyoung ringing clear. San froze, his gaze snapping to you. Without thinking, he stepped forward.

“Hey, wait—”

Wooyoung turned, flashing him a grin. “What’s up, San?”

San barely glanced at him, his blurry eyes locked on you. “Can I talk to—”

“She’s busy,” Wooyoung cut in, his tone light but firm. He threw you a quick glance, silently asking if you wanted to stay.

You didn’t.

“I’ll catch you later,” you muttered, brushing past San without meeting his eyes.

“Wait.”

His hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist before you could escape. Your pulse leaped beneath his touch, but you still refused to look at him, quickly glancing at Yujin and her pouting, holding San's arm.

“What’s going on?” San asked, his voice a mixture of frustration and desperation. “Why are you avoiding me?”

The question hung heavy in the air, but before you could answer, Yujin’s voice rang out. “San! You aren't even listening to me...”

You stiffened, the sound slicing through whatever resolve you’d had left.

“Let go,” you said, your voice cold as you tugged your arm free. “Go back to her.”

You didn’t look back as you walked away, but Wooyoung did. He hesitated, torn between following you and staying behind to let San step in.

“Wooyoung, don’t—”

San’s voice cracked, and when Wooyoung turned back, he saw something raw in his friend’s expression.

“Let me go after her, please.”

---

You were outside before you realized it, the cool night air biting at your skin. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you tried to push down the wave of anger and hurt that threatened to overwhelm you. She was touching his arm again, holding it like it was her's. Like he was her's.

Why did it have to hurt this much?

“Wait!”

San’s voice shattered your thoughts, and you turned just in time to see him stumble toward you, his steps unsteady.

“Go back inside, San,” you said sharply.

“No.” His voice was firm despite the slur in his words. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

You scoffed, turning away. “You’re drunk. This isn’t the time.”

“I don’t care.”

Suddenly, he was in front of you, his hands gripping your shoulders as he forced you to face him. His eyes, glassy with alcohol, bore into yours.

“Why are you ignoring me?” he demanded. “What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything!” you snapped, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “That’s the problem, San. You didn’t do anything, and you don’t even see...”

“See what?”

You hesitated, the weight of your feelings pressing down on you, looking down.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said finally, trying to pull away. “Just let it go.”

“No.” His grip tightened, his voice breaking. “It matters to me. You matter to me.” He took a deep breathing, tilting his head. “Can you at least look at me...please.”

Your heart lurched as you looked up, but you forced yourself to stay firm. “You don’t get it, San. You’re always with her, laughing and smiling like she’s the only person in the world. And I—”

Your voice cracked, and you looked away.

“And you what?” he whispered, his tone softening.

“And I can’t stand it,” you admitted, the words barely audible.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then San let out a shaky laugh, his hands sliding down to your wrists.

“You’re jealous,” he said, his voice tinged with disbelief. “You think I care about Yujin like that?”

“Don’t you?”

“No!” The force of his answer startled you, and you looked up to find him staring at you with an intensity that stole your breath.

“It’s you,” he said hoarsely, his hands shaking while holding your wrists. “It’s always been you.”

Your mind reeled, the confession sinking in.

“But—”

“No buts,” he cut in, his voice trembling. “I’ve been losing my mind all night because you wouldn’t even look at me. You have no idea how much I—”

He broke off, his gaze flickering to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “I’m in love with you.”

The words hung between you, heavy and unshakable.

“‘You… what?’” you repeated, staring at him like he’d just sprouted a second head.

“I said,” San slurred, his voice louder now, “I’m in love with you. And I’ve been losing my mind all night because you’ve been ignoring me! It’s driving me CRAZY!”

You blinked at him, taken aback by the outburst. “San, you’re drunk—”

“Drunk, yes,” he interrupted, holding up a finger. “But I’m also telling the truth! Do you have any idea how many times I tried to talk to you tonight?!”

“San—”

“Seven!” he exclaimed, as he held up what looked like five fingers, his other hand still busy holding you. “Seven times! And every single time, you just… just walked away like I didn’t exist!”

Despite yourself, you snorted. “I didn’t walk away seven times.”

“Yes, you did!” He leaned closer, his expression equal parts pitiful and desperate. “And it hurt. It hurt.”

“Oh, come on—”

“No, I’m serious!” He pointed at his chest, his finger poking himself a little harder than intended. “Right here. It hurt right here. Every time you ignored me, I thought, ‘Wow. I must’ve done something terrible. Maybe I insulted her by accident?’ But no, you just hate me now for no reason!”

“I don’t hate you,” you muttered, fidgeting with your fingers.

“You sure?” His tone was suspicious, but there was an undeniable softness in his eyes as he stared at you. “Because it really felt like you hated me. Especially when you were laughing with Wooyoung. Do you like him more than me now? Is that what this is about? Is he funnier than me? More handsome? Does he have better hair?”

“San!” you interrupted, laughing despite yourself. “What are you even talking about?”

“I don’t know!” he admitted dramatically, throwing his hands in the air, finally letting go of your arm. “I’ve been spiraling all night, okay? I mean, you’re over there, looking gorgeous, and I’m stuck with Yujin... again.” He sighs dramatically. “Do you know how many times she’s tried to touch my arm tonight? Ten!”

“Ten times?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes!” he exclaimed, his tone heavy with indignation. “It’s like she thinks I’m some kind of… of armrest or something. And the whole time, all I wanted to do was talk to you. But nooooo, you’re busy ignoring me, laughing with Wooyoung, and looking way too good for my sanity!”

You bit back a smile, your irritation melting as you watched him rant. His cheeks were flushed, his words a little too loud, but there was a raw honesty in his drunken rambling that made your heart ache.

“San,” you said softly, cutting him off before he could spiral further.

“What?” he asked, his wide, pleading eyes meeting yours.

“I wasn’t ignoring you because I hate you. Or because of Wooyoung.”

“Then why?” His voice cracked slightly, and you could see the desperation in every inch of him.

You hesitated, but the way he was looking at you—with so much vulnerability—made it impossible to hold back.

“Because I was jealous, okay?” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Seeing you with her all night… it made me feel like I didn’t matter to you. Like I couldn’t compare.”

San stared at you for a moment, his mouth opening and closing as if he couldn’t quite process your words.

Then, with absolutely zero grace, he blurted out, “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Excuse me?” you said, your eyes narrowing.

“You’re jealous of Yujin?!” he exclaimed, looking genuinely baffled. “She’s not even my type!”

“Oh, really? And what is your type?” you asked, crossing your arms.

He blinked at you, as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. “You!”

Your mouth fell open, but before you could respond, he kept going, his words tumbling out in a drunken rush.

“You’re my type, okay? You’re the type. The only type. Like, if someone said, ‘Hey, San, describe your dream person!’ I’d just say your name and that would be it! So the fact that you think I care about Yujin when you’re literally right here is just… just—ugh! It’s stupid!”

You stared at him, stunned into silence.

“See?!” he said, throwing his hands up again. “Now you’re ignoring me again! I've even told you the L word and you keep ignoring me!”

“I’m not ignoring you!” you said, trying not to laugh, feeling your cheeks about to burst in flammes.

“You kind of are...” he muttered, pouting slightly.

“San.”

“What?”

“Shut up.”

Before he could say another word, you grabbed his face and kissed him, cutting off whatever nonsense he was about to say next.

For a moment, he froze, his brain clearly struggling to catch up. Then he melted into the kiss, his shaking hands finding their way to your waist as he pulled you closer.

When you finally pulled away, his eyes were wide, and his lips were parted in surprise.

“Does that clear things up?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded slowly, a goofy grin spreading across his face. “Yeah. Yeah, I think it does.”

“Good.” You started to turn away, embarrassed by what you've just done, but he grabbed your hand, stopping you.

“Wait. Just to be clear, are you my girlfriend now? Or do I have to ask officially tomorrow when I’m sober?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide your smile. “We’ll see how you handle your hangover first.”

“Deal,” he said, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

[beautification-tales]

The Wereslut

A tale of periodic transformation

Ginger's heart fluttered like a caffeinated butterfly as she approached Sam's door. She clutched the stack of anime DVDs to her chest, feeling their plastic cases dig into her skin. Her cheeks flushed a shade of red that could put a ripe tomato to shame. She had met Sam only a few months ago when he moved into the apartment next door. Tall, with a mop of chocolate-brown hair and a smile that could light up a room, he was the kind of guy she had always admired from afar. He was cool, athletic, and had a mysterious aura that she just couldn't resist.

The hallway was eerily quiet, the only sound the muffled thump of music from a distant apartment. Ginger took a deep breath and rapped her knuckles against the door. It swung open, revealing Sam in all his glory, dressed in a casual tee and sweatpants. His eyes widened in surprise, then a warm smile spread across his face. "Hey, Ginger! What's up?"

Her voice quivered slightly. "Hi Sam, I... I was wondering if you wanted to come over and watch some anime with me?" She held out the DVDs like a peace offering. "I know it's not everyone's cup of tea, but I thought you might enjoy it."

Sam's smile grew as he looked over the titles of the top DVD. "Attack on Titan, huh?" He chuckled. "You're trying to convert me into a weeb, aren't you?"

Ginger's blush deepened. "Only if you want to be," she replied with a nervous laugh. "But I promise it's really good."

Sam's smile remained as he glanced over his shoulder, his eyes searching the room behind him. "Actually, Ginger, I'm kind of in the middle of something." The words hit her like a brick wall. Her hopeful expression crumpled slightly, and she took a step back. "Oh, I see. That's okay. I just thought—"

But before she could finish her sentence, the sound of giggling and high heels clicking on the floor grew louder. A moment later, a beautiful brunette with a figure that could make any magazine cover jealous sailed into view, her arms laden with shopping bags. "Sammy!" she cooed, planting a kiss on his cheek. "You didn't tell me you had company!"

Sam's expression grew sheepish as he took in Ginger's downtrodden look. "Ginger, this is Tiffany," he said, his voice tight. "Tiff, this is my neighbor, Ginger."

Tiffany's eyes swept over Ginger's unassuming attire and the anime DVDs before her smile grew strained. "Hi there," she said, her voice dripping with forced sweetness. "Sam's told me all about your... hobby."

Ginger felt a sudden urge to shrink away, her excitement replaced by a sinking feeling of embarrassment. She had hoped, maybe even for a second, that Sam would see her in a different light, that maybe he'd want to share in her love of anime. But now, with Tiffany standing there, she realized how ridiculous she must look. "It's okay," she murmured, trying to keep the disappointment from seeping into her voice. "Another time."

Tiffany's laughter was like a tinkling bell, but the sound grated on Ginger's nerves. "Oh, I don’t think so. Sam isn’t into geeky loser things.," she said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. Sam’s eyes widened at Tiffany’s cruel comment. He took a step towards Ginger, his hand reaching out as if to apologize.

"Tiff, that's not nice," he admonished gently. “What it’s true isn’t babe? You don’t want to give this girl any false hope… right?” she said with a knowing smile, her voice as sweet as honey-laced venom.

Ginger's eyes filled with tears, and she took a shaky step back. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her cheeks burned as the words echoed through the hallway. The stack of DVDs grew slippery in her grip, and she fumbled to keep them together. "It's fine," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I should go."

Sam's hand hovered in the air, his expression torn between guilt and frustration. "Tiff, that's not—" he began, but she placed a hand on his chest, cutting him off with a look that was both seductive and commanding.

Ginger didn't wait to hear the rest of the conversation. She turned on her heel, her heart feeling as if it had been crushed under Tiffany's expensive stilettos. Tears blurred her vision as she hurried back to her apartment, the DVDs clattering against each other in her trembling grasp. She could feel the weight of Tiffany's gaze on her back, but she refused to look back. Once inside the sanctuary of her own four walls, she let the tears fall freely, her shoulders shaking with sobs that seemed to come from a place of pain she didn't know existed.

Her room was a testament to her love for anime: posters of her favorite characters adorned the walls, plushies lined the bed, and a bookshelf groaned under the weight of countless manga volumes. Normally, the sight of her collection brought her comfort, a reminder of the fantastical worlds she could escape to whenever reality became too much to bear. But now, as she stared at the poster of a fierce heroine holding a sword aloft, she felt nothing but a hollow ache.

Something in Ginger snapped as she screamed in pain. The sound echoed through her room, a cathartic release of the agony that had been building inside her. She took a deep breath and turned to face the poster of the heroine she had once admired. With trembling hands, she reached up and tore it from the wall. The paper ripped under her fingernails, sending a thrill of anger and adrenaline through her body. One by one, she yanked the posters down, each tear echoing her own shattered illusions.

Her vision blurred with unshed tears, she stumbled out of her room and into the hallway, the DVDs scattered on the floor behind her. She needed air, needed to get away from the suffocating reality that was her life. Without bothering to change out of her sweatpants and oversized t-shirt, she grabbed her phone and keys and left the apartment, slamming the door behind her.

The cool evening breeze kissed her flushed cheeks, and she took deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart. She quickly walked past Sam’s door and could hear his groans of pleasure, which grew louder as she approached the stairwell. Her steps slowed, and she leaned against the wall, her knees threatening to buckle under the weight of her own mortification. Through the thin barrier, she could make out Tiffany's high-pitched giggles and the unmistakable sounds of passionate lovemaking.

Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the sweat that had formed from her earlier exertion. Ginger felt like a fool for thinking that someone like Sam would ever be interested in someone like her. The geeky girl next door, with her unruly red hair and glasses, was no match for a goddess like Tiffany. She stumbled down the stairs, her eyes blinded by the tears, and pushed through the heavy front door of the apartment building.

The street outside was alive with the sounds of the city: cars honking, people laughing, and music playing from various windows. Ginger didn’t register any of it as she started walking, her legs moving on autopilot. She didn’t have a destination in mind, just a desperate need to put distance between herself and the apartment complex that now felt like a prison of humiliation. The sidewalk was a blur of concrete and shadow as she stumbled down the block, the neon lights of the nearby convenience store reflecting off the wet pavement.

Her thoughts were a tumultuous storm, each memory of Sam and Tiffany’s encounter striking her like a bolt of lightning. She couldn’t shake the image of Tiffany’s smug smile, her words cutting through Ginger like a hot knife through butter. The pain was unbearable, a reminder of every time she had been dismissed or belittled because of her hobby, her looks, her very essence.

As Ginger walked, her eyes remained cast downward, avoiding the glances of passersby. The world felt too harsh, too cruel to face. The sidewalk grew crowded, and she felt the press of bodies around her, a stark contrast to the loneliness that engulfed her. Without warning, she collided with someone, her body bouncing off them like a pinball.

Ginger's eyes shot up to see a gorgeous brunette woman standing in front of her, dressed in a stylish outfit that screamed confidence. For a split second, she thought it was Tiffany, come to twist the knife even deeper. But the woman's eyes, a soft brown, were filled with concern rather than the malice she had just encountered. "Oh, I'm so sorry," the stranger said, her voice as sweet as it was sincere. "Are you okay?"

But Ginger was beyond okay. The anger that had been simmering inside her boiled over, and she took it out on this unsuspecting bystander. "What the hell is your problem, watch where you're going!" she snarled, pushing the woman away. The brunette staggered back, her eyes wide with shock.

“Umm excuse me?” The brunette woman’s eyes narrowed, the sweetness replaced by a hint of annoyance. “You’re the one who practically bulldozed into me!” Ginger’s heart was beating fast as she unleashed all of her pent up rage. “Fuck you bitch! Women like you think you can do anything you want! Why? Because you got blessed with big titties? So just get out of my fucking way you empty headed bimbo.”

The woman took a step closer, her expression morphing from anger to curiosity. "Bimbo?" she repeated, one eyebrow quirking upwards. "You've got quite the mouth on you, little girl. You know what they say about calling someone a bimbo, don't you?"

“What ?” Ginger sniffled, wiping at her nose with the back of her hand. She hadn’t meant to let it all out like that, but the pain was too much. The stranger smiled as she whispered. “It takes one to know one.”

Before Ginger could respond, the brunette leaned in closer and licked the palm of her hand. It was a quick, almost imperceptible gesture, and Ginger’s eyes widened in shock. The woman’s tongue was warm and wet, leaving a strange tingle in its wake. She stepped back, trying to shake off the bizarre sensation, but the stranger’s gaze held her in place. Her eyes had changed, the pupils dilating to almost swallow the irises whole.

"By the power of the moon," the woman began, her voice low and hypnotic, "I bestow upon you a gift, a transformation." Her words were laced with a mysterious power that seemed to resonate through the very air around them. Ginger felt a strange energy coil around her, tightening like a noose with every syllable spoken.

Ginger’s hand burned with pain as a burn mark appeared where she was licked. “Ah what the fuck!” she yelped, staring at the hand in horror. The brunette’s smile grew wider, revealing her white teeth. “It’s a small price to pay for what’s to come,” she said cryptically. “I’m sure you’ll have so much fun…tomorrow.” The woman laughed as she walked away, leaving Ginger trembling with confusion and fear.

The cold evening air seemed to pierce through Ginger’s skin, and she felt a sudden, inexplicable chill run down her spine. Shivering, she turned and hurried back towards her apartment building, her legs moving faster than she thought possible. The sounds of Sam’s lovemaking had faded into the distance, and she was grateful for that small mercy. As she reached the safety of her own hallway, the chill grew stronger, and she could feel a strange energy pulsing through her veins, setting her nerves alight with anticipation.

Her trembling hand fumbled with the keys, and she finally managed to unlock the door, stumbling into the relative sanctuary of her apartment. The mess of DVDs and torn posters greeted her like a sad reflection of her shattered heart. She didn’t have the strength to clean up the mess or even change out of her tear-stained clothes. Instead, she collapsed onto her bed, the mattress welcoming her with a comforting sigh. Her hand throbbed where the brunette’s saliva had burned her, the pain a constant reminder of the bizarre encounter.

“Forget Tiffany. She’s a bitch and I love anime. I love you.” Sam said as he looked deeply into her eyes. Ginger felt a spark of hope flicker inside her chest. Could it be that he felt the same way? That he didn’t care what anyone else thought about her hobby? She took a tentative step closer to him, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. Sam embraced her and kissed her deeply, his arms wrapping around her in a warm embrace. The passion between them grew stronger, and soon they were both lost in a whirlwind of desire.

But the dream shattered as abruptly as it had begun. The sound of knocking on her door yanked Ginger from her fantasy world, and she bolted upright in bed. The room was bathed in the cold light of dawn, the curtains fluttering gently in the breeze from her open window. Her heart raced, the remnants of her dream clinging to her like a stubborn fog.

Ginger frowned in disgust as she was covered in sweat. She reached down and felt that her panties were drenched. The dream had been so vivid, so real. But it was just that, a dream. A sad, sad dream that taunted her with the one thing she wanted most - Sam's acceptance and affection. She wiped her eyes, trying to scrub away the last traces of hope that had lingered from her slumber. The knocking grew more insistent, echoing through the silent apartment. She threw off the covers and stumbled towards the door, her legs feeling like jelly.

When she opened it, she was surprised to find Sam standing there, his eyes red-rimmed and his hair sticking up in every direction. He looked like he hadn’t slept at all. "Hey, Gin," he said, his voice low and gruff. "Can I come in?"

Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t expected to see him today, let alone this early in the morning. She stepped aside, allowing him to enter. His presence filled the room, making it feel smaller and more intimate than it had just moments before. The smell of his cologne, faint but noticeable, tickled her nostrils and brought back memories of their awkward encounter in the hallway.

“Did.. Did you just wake up? I’m sorry if I woke you,” Sam said, his eyes darting around the room, taking in the mess from the night before. “Umm it’s ok it’s early.” Ginger responded trying to hide the mess. “You’re joking… right? It’s evening Ginger.” Sam said, a look of confusion crossing his face.

Ginger looked at the clock, it read 7:30 PM. “Oh my god, I totally lost track of time,” she said, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She had been sleeping the whole day away. Yet her body still ached as if she had not rested enough. Sam looked at her with concern, his handsome features etched with a frown. “So I wanted to come over and apologize. Tiffany is kind of…”

“A bitch!” Ginger exclaimed, interrupting Sam before he could finish his sentence. “You don’t have to apologize for her, Sam. She’s not worth it.” The anger in her voice was palpable, but she couldn’t hold back the hurt that bled through her words. “Yeah well it won’t happen again.” Sam said, his voice tight with frustration.

“Oh really you’re not going to fuck her again?” Ginger couldn’t hold back her feelings. She felt bolder for some reasons as the ache stayed throughout her body. “Huh?” Sam looked surprised. “No, I meant what she said to you. It was wrong. She shouldn’t have talked to you like that.” He stepped closer, his eyes searching hers for any signs of residual pain. Ginger felt the pain increase as she winced at his words. The anger and embarrassment from the encounter had not fully dissipated, and his apology was a salve that didn’t quite cover the wound.

“Hmmm let me guess you used that big fat cock to punish her and now she’ll be a good girl.” Ginger’s eyes widened as she surprised herself. She immediately looked down embarrassed at how explicit her words were. “Yeah… wait, how do you know this?” Sam’s eyes narrowed.

“Cmon Sam. The whole building could hear you two.” Ginger mumbled, avoiding eye contact with him. She felt a strange mix of emotions, a cocktail of anger, embarrassment, and something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “I’m not mad at you, I just don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

“Well I meant it. I would love to watch Attack on Titan with you.” Sam said, his voice gentle and sincere. Ginger's heart did a little dance in her chest. Could it be that he was actually interested? “No Sam, I think you’d rather watch me attack that cock!” Ginger’s mouth hung open, shocked at the words that had tumbled out of her mouth. It was as if the pain from the day had turned her into a completely different person, one that was not afraid to speak her mind.

Ginger could feel the pain increasing in her chest as she looked at Sam, unsure of what to say. “Whoa Ginger! Are you ok?” Sam asked, taking a step closer. The genuine concern in his voice was like a balm to her soul, soothing some of the raw anger she felt. It was like something else was in her itching to come out. “I… I’m sorry I don’t feel so great.”

Without warning, the memory of the brunette's spell crashed over her like a wave. She glanced outside, the curtains billowing in the evening breeze. The sun had set, and the moon was a silver sliver in the dark sky. The ache in her hand was now a pulsing throb, a reminder of the mysterious encounter. Her eyes grew wide with realization. “Yeah you look like you’re burning up.” Sam said as he placed his palm on her forehead. “Whoa you definitely have a fever! You’re hot!”

“About time you noticed me!” Ginger exclaimed, her voice laced with seduction. Sam stepped back, his eyes searching hers, his hand still hovering near her forehead. He had felt the heat, but now he could see it. Her eyes had changed, the green of her irises swirling with gold, a fiery dance that seemed to reflect the intensity of her emotions.

Ginger stepped away and shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me! I think you should go ah ah” Ginger grabbed her stomach as the pain was unbearable now. She felt a warmth spread through her body, starting from her hand and moving up her arm. Her heart raced as the heat grew stronger, and she could feel something happening to her. Her skin began to tingle, and she watched in horror as her nails grew longer, sharper, and a deep crimson color.

“Sam what’s happening to me?” she whispered, her voice trembling as she held out her hand for him to see. But instead of fear, Sam's eyes lit up with something akin to excitement. His gaze roamed over her body, and she felt a strange sensation, as if his eyes were physically caressing her. Her body responded to his gaze, her breasts growing heavier, her nipples hardening into points that pushed against the fabric of her shirt. She felt her body stretch and change, her curves becoming more pronounced, and her skin taking on an ethereal glow.

Her sweatpants grew tighter, the fabric straining against her expanding ass. She looked down to find that her buttocks had swelled to an impossible size, the material of her panties stretching to the point of transparency. It was as if she had been blessed with the voluptuousness of a goddess overnight, and the sight of her own transformation was as terrifying as it was exhilarating. The pain in her hand had spread throughout her body, but it had morphed into a pleasurable ache that made her want to moan with each movement.

Ginger's short hair grew longer with every passing second, cascading down her back in fiery waves. Her cheekbones sharpened, and her eyes grew brighter, the green now a mesmerizing emerald that seemed to sparkle in the dim light of her room. Her glasses slipped off her nose, no longer needed as her vision corrected itself. She watched in the mirror as her body continued to change, her arms and legs filling with a newfound strength and feminine muscle that rippled under her skin like living art.

“Ungh fuck this feels so good!” Ginger couldn’t believe the words that slipped from her lips as her body continued to change. Her skin tightened over her newfound muscles, the sensation a delicious mix of pain and pleasure. The tingling grew more intense, moving down her spine and into her legs, making them longer and more powerful. She watched in the mirror as her thighs bulged and her calves grew defined, every muscle fiber standing out in sharp relief.

Her ears grew pointed and sensitive, picking up sounds she’d never noticed before. The distant hum of the city, the rustle of clothes as Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and the unmistakable sound of his breathing growing heavier. She could feel his eyes on her, and it was as if they were caressing her skin, setting it alight with a burning need for his touch. Her nose twitched, and she caught a whiff of his arousal, the musky scent making her heart race even faster.

Her eyes zeroed in on the bulge in Sam's pants, and she felt a strange power surge through her. The room grew hotter, the air thick with the tension that crackled between them. Ginger’s breath came in short, ragged gasps, and she could feel a wetness growing between her legs, her panties now sticking to her swollen sex. She was aware of her own beauty in a way she never had been before, and she knew that Sam couldn’t resist her.

The smell of his desire was intoxicating, a heady aroma that seemed to fill the room. She took a step closer, her hips swaying in a way she had never allowed them to before. The pain in her hand had become a pulsing beat, matching the rhythm of her own heart. She reached out and took his hand, her eyes never leaving his, and led him to her bed. His eyes were wide with shock, but he followed her without protest, as if under a spell.

Ginger felt her own body responding to his touch, her skin growing more sensitive with every brush of his fingers. Her breasts heaved with every breath, the fabric of her shirt now stretched to its limits. She watched as his gaze followed the movement, his pupils dilating even further. She felt a smug satisfaction at the power she now wielded over him, a stark contrast to the helplessness she had felt just hours ago.

Sam's hand hovered over her chest, and she could feel the warmth of his palm even before he made contact. His breath hitched as he finally touched her, his thumb brushing over the peak of one breast. The sensation was electric, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her core. Her knees buckled slightly, and she leaned into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips. His eyes never left hers, the intensity of his gaze making her feel exposed, yet somehow seen for the first time.

The air grew thick with their mingling scents, the sweetness of her arousal and the musk of his desire. Ginger could hear the rapid thud of Sam’s heart, the erratic beat matching the tempo of her own. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, the warmth of his skin beckoning her closer. Every inch of her was alive with sensation, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation.

Her eyes locked onto Sam’s, and she could see the hunger in them, the need that mirrored her own. His hand trailed down her arm, the calluses on his fingers sending a delicious shiver up her spine. She watched his pupils dilate further, his gaze dropping to her mouth, and she knew he wanted to kiss her. To claim her. And she wanted it too, with a ferocity that surprised even herself.

The scent of his arousal grew stronger, filling her nostrils with a heady musk that made her core throb with need. She could hear the quickening of his breath, feel the heat radiating from his body as he stepped closer. It was intoxicating, a siren's call that she couldn’t resist. Her hand reached up to cradle his face, pulling him down to her, her heart hammering in her chest like a drum.

The moment their lips met, it was as if a dam had burst. The kiss was explosive, a conflagration of passion that consumed them both. Sam’s arms wrapped around her, his hands exploring her newfound curves with a desperate hunger that matched her own. Ginger’s skin was a canvas of sensation, each caress setting her alight with pleasure. Her body felt alive in a way it never had before, every nerve ending singing with a symphony of desire.

Her nose twitched again, the scent of his arousal now so potent it was almost overwhelming. It was a heady mix of musk and sweat, a pheromonal beacon that drew her closer. She could feel his cock, thick and hard, pressing against her stomach, demanding release. The ache in her hand had transformed into a throbbing need that traveled through her entire being, a hunger that could only be satiated by the taste of him.

Her tongue flicked out, tasting the salty sweetness of his skin as she traced the line of his jaw with a gentle nip. Sam groaned, the sound vibrating through her body, setting every nerve ending alight. His hands slid up her back, his strong, calloused fingers digging into her flesh. The sensation was exquisite, a delicious blend of pain and pleasure that had her arching into him, her breasts pushing against his chest.

Her heightened sense of smell picked up on the scent of his desire, a potent aphrodisiac that made her head spin. It was intoxicating, a siren's song that grew louder with every beat of her heart. She could feel the heat of his arousal through the fabric of their clothes, a testament to the power she had over him.

The sound of his breath grew more ragged, the air in the room seeming to thicken with every shallow intake. Ginger's own breathing matched his, as if they were two animals caught in the throes of an ancient mating dance. Her body responded to his proximity, her skin a live wire of sensation that begged for his touch.

Her eyes narrowed, her heightened vision taking in every detail of Sam's face. The way his pupils dilated with desire, the flush that spread from his cheeks to his neck, and the slight tremble of his bottom lip as she traced it with her teeth. She could smell his arousal, a potent scent that seemed to coat the very air they breathed. It was a heady mix of musk and sweat, a scent so primal it made her want to purr with need.

The fabric of Sam’s jeans grew damp as her hand brushed against the bulge in his pants, and she could feel his cock pulse with every beat of his heart. The sensation was exquisite, a silent communication that told her exactly what he wanted. She felt a thrill of power, a delicious sense of control that she had never felt before.

Her heightened hearing picked up the sound of his racing heart, the wetness of their kisses, and the faint rustle of their clothes as they moved together. The symphony of desire grew louder with every passing second, drowning out the world outside their bubble of passion. Ginger’s body was a maelstrom of sensation, her newfound strength and agility guiding her every move.

Her eyes, now a fiery gold, locked onto the pulsing vein in Sam’s neck, the lifeblood of his desire beckoning to her. She felt a hunger stir within her, a craving that was both terrifying and thrilling. Her fangs elongated, a reminder of the spell that had transformed her. She hadn’t noticed before, but now, they were all she could focus on.

Sam’s breath was hot against her neck, his teeth grazing her skin, and she felt her body respond with a tremble. The pressure grew as his teeth scraped against her flesh, and she knew he could feel the pulse of her vein beneath. It was as if her body was begging for his bite, craving the connection that would seal their bond.

Her hand slid down his chest, her fingertips tracing the lines of his muscles before finding the button of his jeans. With a quick flick, she undid them, her hand sliding into his boxers to grasp his cock. It was hot and heavy in her palm, a testament to his desire for her. She stroked him gently at first, watching his eyes roll back in his head with pleasure. His hands tightened on her hips, urging her closer.

Ginger felt a rush of power as she realized she had Sam exactly where she wanted him. She straddled his waist, her knees pressing into the soft mattress on either side of his hips. He was so big, so powerful, and yet she had him at her mercy. With a seductive smile, she guided him to her entrance, her wetness coating his shaft. The anticipation was unbearable, the ache in her core demanding release.

With one swift motion, she sank down onto him, her tight pussy enveloping his length. Sam’s eyes rolled back in his head, a guttural moan escaping his throat. The sensation of his hard cock inside her was unlike anything she’d ever felt. The pain from her transformation had given way to pleasure, and she reveled in the feeling of being filled by him.

Ginger’s body moved on instinct, her hips rocking back and forth in a rhythm that was as old as time itself. Sam’s hands were everywhere, gripping her ass, her hips, her breasts. He was lost in the moment, and she reveled in the power she had over him. Her newfound strength made every thrust feel more powerful, more intense, and she knew he could feel it too.

With each movement, she could feel the energy from the spell coursing through her, heightening her senses. The scent of their mingled arousal was intoxicating, making her want to devour him whole. Her fangs ached, and she knew the urge to bite was growing stronger. She leaned in, her teeth grazing the soft skin of his neck, feeling the pulse of his vein beneath her lips.

Sam's hands found their way to her breasts, kneading them with a desperation that matched the rhythm of their hips. The sensation was overwhelming, and she couldn’t hold back the loud moan that escaped her. It echoed through the room, a sound that seemed to resonate in the very fabric of reality itself. His own moan grew deeper, his hands moving to her hips to help guide her movements.

With every moan, Ginger felt the power of the transformation coursing through her, fueling her desire and her need to claim Sam. Each stroke of his cock against her walls sent waves of pleasure through her, and she could feel herself getting closer to the edge. The room spun around her, the colors more vivid than she had ever seen them. She threw her head back, her moans growing louder, a symphony of pleasure that seemed to fill the entire space.

Her hips moved faster, her movements more erratic, as she chased the orgasm that was just out of reach. Sam’s grip on her tightened, his own breathing growing more ragged. She could feel his muscles tensing, his body preparing for his release. Ginger knew she had him, knew she had him under her spell. The thrill of it was unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

With a final, powerful thrust, she sank her teeth into his neck. Sam's body tensed, and a strangled cry of pleasure ripped from his throat. The taste of his blood was unlike anything she’d ever experienced, a heady cocktail of life and passion that set her ablaze. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she came, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful. Her body convulsed around him, milking his cock with every pulse of her orgasm.

The room was alive with the sound of their mating, the wet slaps of their bodies coming together melding with their guttural moans. Ginger’s newfound strength allowed her to ride Sam with a fervor that bordered on the bestial, her hips moving in a frenetic dance that seemed to shake the very foundation of the apartment. His own cries grew louder as he matched her rhythm, his hands clutching at her ass, his nails digging into her flesh.

The scent of their union grew stronger, a potent mix of sweat and blood that seemed to feed the transformation. Ginger’s eyes never left Sam’s, the gold in her irises burning with an intensity that seemed almost supernatural. Her nails, now claws, scored lines down his back, leaving trails of crimson that stood out starkly against his pale skin. His own cries grew more desperate, his hips bucking up to meet hers, driving himself deeper inside her.

Ginger’s moans grew louder, filling the room with a cacophony of pleasure that seemed to resonate through her very soul. She could feel the power of the spell building within her, each gasp and whimper a release of energy that seemed to fuel her further. Sam’s eyes widened with a mix of fear and desire as she took his face in her hands, pulling him closer.

With a final, desperate thrust, Sam climaxed, his body shuddering beneath her. His cock pulsed inside her, sending waves of ecstasy crashing through her body. His blood flowed into her mouth, the metallic tang of it mixing with the sweetness of his release. Ginger swallowed greedily, the taste of him a powerful elixir that seemed to complete the transformation.

Her eyes rolled back in her head as the orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, the power of it stealing her breath away. Her body spasmed around him, her muscles tightening and releasing in an endless symphony of pleasure. They collapsed onto the bed, their bodies entwined in a tangle of limbs and passion. Sam’s blood coated her tongue, and she felt a sense of satisfaction that was almost primal.

As the waves of pleasure receded, Ginger pulled away, her teeth retracting and her eyes returning to their usual emerald hue. She looked down at Sam, his body now limp and still beneath hers, his chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths. His eyes fluttered open, and she watched as confusion clouded his gaze. She watched as he passed out on her bed.

Ginger awoke to the sound of her alarm. Her body felt sore in places she hadn't felt before, and she was momentarily disoriented. She sat up, her head swimming with memories of the night that had just passed. But as she looked down at herself, she realized that she was back in her plain, geeky body. Her breasts were no longer swollen, and the fiery red hair had retreated back to its usual mousy brown. The pain in her hand was gone, and she was once again bespectacled. It was as if the whole thing had been a dream.

But then she saw him—Sam, sprawled out on her bed, his shirt hiked up, revealing a trail of teeth marks and scratches on his back. The reality of the situation crashed over her like a cold shower. It hadn’t been a dream. Her heart raced as she took in the sight of him, his handsome face relaxed in sleep, the smell of sex still lingering in the air.

Ginger’s cheeks flushed as she recalled the feral passion of their encounter, the way she had claimed him, marked him as hers. Her eyes fell to the crimson mark on her hand, a stark reminder of the spell that had transformed her. The giggle that had bubbled up in her chest died in her throat, replaced by a low growl of desire that seemed to resonate through her very bones. It was a thrilling thought—every full moon, she’d become this all-powerful creature of beauty and passion, capable of ensnaring any man she chose.

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

The Fallout | Sebastian Sallow x OC #21

this entire chapter is angst and hurt with pretty much no comfort bc sebastian sallow is an idiot.

Summary: Sebastian, wracked with guilt after betraying Evangeline’s trust, seeks her out to apologize, navigating through Ominis’s pointed rebuke and his own self-loathing. He finds Evangeline by the Black Lake, and though their conversation is raw and painful, they begin to bridge the gap between them, with Sebastian vowing to change (again).

Words: 7,782

Tags: Angst, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Unspoken Feelings, Angst AGAIN, Emotional Fallout, Happy(?) Ending, Miscommunication, Drama, Sebastian Sallow Is An Idiot, Ominis Gaunt Being VERY Done™

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

Read on AO3

The Great Hall was alive with the low hum of chatter, punctuated by bursts of laughter from distant tables. To most, it was the familiar chaos of breakfast before enjoying the weekend. To Ominis, it was a minefield.

His wand rested lightly against the table, his fingers tapping a steady rhythm on its polished surface. His sharp ears picked up the undercurrent of conversation, threads of gossip weaving their way through the hall. He didn’t need sight to know who the subject was—Evangeline, whose name was on far too many tongues this week, and Sebastian, the ever-present chaos at the heart of Ominis’s life.

“…stood up for him like he’s some kind of hero,” someone hissed from the Ravenclaw table behind him, their voice dripping with scorn. “And then he’s caught snogging some fifth-year? Couldn’t even wait for her to wake up. Poor thing.”

Another voice chimed in, softer but no less cutting. “I heard she passed out by the fire and a moment later, he was off with the next Gryffindor. Honestly, it’s embarrassing.”

Ominis gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening. He carefully kept his expression neutral, though his fingers curled into a fist under the table. These weren’t just idle comments; they were knives, sharp and intentional, aimed at two of the people he cared about most.

Evangeline had always been bold, unflinching in her loyalty to those she called friends, and Ominis hadn’t been surprised when she confronted Lysander to defend Sebastian's honor—Evangeline’s fierce devotion was as much a part of her as her Quidditch skills or her sharp tongue. What had surprised him was how quickly Sebastian had thrown it all away.

Around him, the murmurs shifted, growing louder, like a fire spreading unchecked.

“Did you see how close she was sitting to him before it all went down? Makes you wonder how long he was waiting for her to pass out so he could leave,” someone at the Hufflepuff table said, their voice tinged with curiosity.

Ominis clenched his wand tighter, the cool wood grounding him as his anger simmered. He couldn’t tell what enraged him more—the audacity of the rumors or the fact that Sebastian’s actions made them so easy to believe.

"You'll break your wand if you're not careful," Imelda’s voice was surprisingly warm and low enough not to draw attention. She plopped herself down beside him with the casual confidence only she could pull off.

Ominis loosened his grip and let out a long, steadying breath. “I should hex everyone to make these rumors stop.”

Imelda snorted. “You and I both know the only thing that would stop these rumors is a new scandal. Give it a week—someone else will do something idiotic, and Sterling and Sallow will be yesterday’s gossip.”

Ominis doubted that. The combination of Evangeline’s bold declaration of loyalty in front of the whole school and Sebastian’s reckless behavior had painted an irresistible target on both their backs. The spectacle was too good, the drama too ripe, for people to let it go easily.

Imelda leaned in slightly, her voice dropping. “For what it’s worth, the rest of us are doing our best to stop the spread of this garbage. Poppy practically hexed a Hufflepuff who was being too loud about it yesterday, and Natty shut down a pack of Ravenclaws in Charms.” She shrugged. “We’ve got her back.”

It was true. Their group—Natty, Poppy, Garreth, and the others—had done their best to redirect conversations and shut down the crueler remarks when they came up. But there were limits to what even a tightly-knit group of sixth years could do. Hogwarts wasn’t exactly known for its restraint when it came to gossip.

Ominis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just—” He cut himself off, unsure how to finish the thought.

Imelda didn’t wait for him to try. “You’re worried about them,” she said simply, as if the thought wasn’t worth debating. “Look, Sterling’s tough. And Sebastian… well, he’s an idiot, but he’s not helpless.”

“An idiot is putting it lightly,” Ominis muttered. “This has hurt both of them. Evangeline’s been humiliated, and Sebastian—” He paused, shaking his head. “He knows he’s responsible, even if he hasn't admitted it.”

“It’s just…” Imelda hesitated, which caught Ominis off guard. She rarely hesitated. “I hate seeing her like this. She’s always been so… sure of herself, you know? I don’t like watching people like her get knocked down because of someone else’s stupidity.”

Imelda’s words hung in the air, heavier than Ominis expected. She rarely let her concern for others show, but when she did, it carried a weight that was impossible to ignore. He let the silence stretch between them for a moment, his mind turning over her observations.

"She’s been avoiding everyone," Ominis finally said, his voice quiet. "Burying herself in books. She’s retreating."

Imelda sighed, her usual bravado replaced by a rare softness. "And what about Sallow? Is he retreating too, or just digging himself into a deeper hole?"

Ominis let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, he’s digging, all right. Acting like none of this bothers him, flashing that irritating smirk at everyone who dares bring it up to his face. Still choosing to be seen with the same girl he snogged that night. But I know him too well to believe it. It’s a mask." His tone darkened. "The worst part is that he hasn’t even apologized to her. Not properly."

Imelda shook her head, muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like bloody idiot.

"He’s lucky Sterling hasn’t hexed him," she said. "If it were me, I’d have turned him into a flobberworm by now."

Ominis couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I'm sure she's thought about it. But Evangeline isn’t like you, Imelda. She doesn’t lash out when she’s hurt—she pulls away."

"And you’re caught in the middle," Imelda observed, her tone resigned. "As always."

"As always," Ominis echoed, his voice laced with weariness.

Imelda tilted her head, studying Ominis’s face with an expression he couldn’t see but could feel. “So, what’s the plan then, Gaunt? You’ve always got one.”

Ominis frowned, his fingers still idly tapping against his wand. His plan? As if he could snap his fingers and undo the damage Sebastian had caused—not just to Evangeline’s reputation, but to the fragile balance of their trio. “I don’t know if there’s a plan for this,” he admitted. “Evangeline needs space, but if we leave her alone too long, it’ll only get worse. And Sebastian…” He trailed off, the weight of Sebastian’s stubbornness settling like a stone in his chest. “Sebastian needs a proper kick to the head.”

Imelda laughed, though it was short and dry. “If you’re volunteering, I’ll hold your wand while you do it.”

"Too bad his skull's too thick for it to work,” Ominis replied, lips twitching into a faint smirk before fading again. "He knows he’s ruined things; he just doesn’t know how to fix them.”

Imelda leaned back, crossing her arms. “So, no plan?”

“Not yet,” Ominis admitted, though his mind was turning. He wasn’t sure what the right course of action was, but he couldn’t stand the thought of leaving things as they were.

“I’ll think of something." He said at length, "Someone has to.”

“Well, good luck with that,” Imelda said, standing and grabbing her plate. “And when you do get around to kicking some sense into him, make sure Sterling’s around to watch. She deserves the entertainment.”

Ominis leaned back in his seat as Imelda departed, his mind whirring. Someone had to step in. Sebastian was clearly incapable of making the first move, and Evangeline… she was too hurt to reach out herself. And if nothing changed soon, the damage might become permanent.

He pushed his plate away, no longer hungry, and rose to his feet. Raising his wand to guide him, he made his way out of the Great Hall, the chatter behind him fading into a dull roar.

~

The library was quieter than the Great Hall, but it carried its own brand of tension. The soft rustling of pages and the occasional scrape of a chair created an uneasy symphony, one that suited Ominis’s mood. He navigated the familiar aisles, his wand guiding him toward the far corner where he hoped Evangeline would be hiding.

She’d been skipping meals and even classes all week, avoiding crowds and slinking away before anyone could corner her. Ominis had been patient, waiting for her to resurface on her own, but her absence was stretching into worry. The Evangeline he knew—bold enough to face down trolls and outfly Imelda in Quidditch—didn’t hide. It wasn’t like her to disappear—not like this.

Ominis stopped when he reached the corner table and tilted his head, listening for the familiar scratch of a quill or the rustle of parchment. Relief swept through him when he caught the faint, rhythmic sound of writing.

“Still avoiding everyone?” he asked as he approached, his tone carefully casual.

Evangeline paused mid-stroke but didn’t look up. “I’m studying,” she replied, her voice clipped. The quill resumed its steady movements, but there was tension in her tone, a defensive edge that Ominis didn’t miss.

“Studying, hiding,” he said, pulling out the chair across from her and settling into it. “They’re not mutually exclusive.”

She let out a sigh, setting her quill down and leaning back in her chair. “What do you want, Ominis?”

He rested his wand lightly on the table, folding his hands in front of him. “To make sure you’re alive. I've been worried.”

“Well, as you can see, I’m perfectly fine,” she said, gesturing vaguely to the books stacked around her. “Now, if you don’t mind—”

“Evangeline,” he interrupted gently, his tone firm but calm. “You can’t keep doing this. Hiding won’t make the rumors go away.”

Her hazel eyes snapped up to meet his, sharp and tired. “What else am I supposed to do, Ominis? Walk into the Great Hall and pretend I don’t hear them? Pretend they’re not calling me an idiot?” Her voice cracked slightly on the last word, and she looked away, her fingers curling into fists on the table.

“They’re cruel, Evangeline,” Ominis said softly. “But they don’t define you.”

“They don’t have to,” she replied bitterly. “I’ve already defined myself—for the whole school. The foolish Gryffindor who stood by her so-called friend who turned Quidditch into boxing, only to find out he doesn’t care. At all.”

“That’s not true,” Ominis said, leaning forward. “Sebastian cares. He cares so much that he’s too afraid to face you and apologize."

She let out a hollow laugh, her expression hardening. “If that’s your attempt at defending him, don’t bother. Actions speak louder than words, Ominis, and his actions have been loud and clear.”

Ominis sighed, rubbing his temple. “I’m not defending what he did. And believe me, he knows he’s made a mess of things. But he’s too much of an idiot to figure out how to fix it.”

“Then that’s his problem,” she said sharply, standing up and gathering her books. “Not mine.”

“Evangeline—”

She paused, her shoulders tense but not turning back to him. “I appreciate you checking on me, Ominis. Really, I do. But I can’t… I can’t do this right now.”

He didn’t stop her as she walked away, her footsteps quick and purposeful. Instead, he sat back in his chair, his fingers tapping an uneven rhythm against the wood.

Ominis pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, trying to push the building tension out of his skull. He’d thought that after last year, they could weather anything. But now he wasn’t so sure.

This wasn’t about dark magic or ancient artifacts. It wasn’t about the kind of betrayal you could blame on desperation or fear. This was about trust. And Sebastian had shattered it, not with curses or lies, but with something so mundane it almost felt worse.

Last year, Ominis found himself thinking, when Sebastian did the unthinkable, Evangeline had stood by him.

Ominis could recall the horror of that night with a clarity that made his stomach churn. The dark chamber, the oppressive weight if the the air, and the sickening, searing sounds of the Cruciatus Curse as it tore through her. She hadn’t hesitated to let Sebastian cast that unforgivable curse on her, because she’d believed in him. She’d trusted him enough to endure that kind of agony, certain that he wouldn’t lead her astray.

And later, when Sebastian’s own desperation and grief had driven him to kill Solomon in front of her, she still hadn’t left his side. She’d looked at Sebastian and seen a boy crushed under the weight of his own choices, not a monster, not a murderer. She’d forgiven him.

And now?

Now, after all of that, this—the fallout of one drunken party and Sebastian’s idiocy—felt like an impossible hurdle. And Ominis hated it. Hated the absurdity of it. Hated that something so comparatively trivial could cause this much damage between them.

But then, should he be surprised?

For the past two years, Evie had been the one who stood in Sebastian’s corner no matter what. She’d fought his battles, taken his side, even when Ominis had turned away in anger or disgust. How many more times could she be expected to put herself in the line of fire for him? How many more times could she pick up the pieces of his mess, only to have him treat her loyalty as something he was entitled to, rather than a gift?

Ominis knew Sebastian was a master at self-destruction, but this was different. This wasn’t just about Sebastian’s inability to apologize—it was about Evangeline’s breaking point. And Sebastian had betrayed her. Not in some dramatic, high-stakes moment like the ones they’d faced last year, but in a way that was somehow more personal. More intimate. He hadn’t protected her—not from the rumors, not from humiliation, and certainly not from himself.

Ominis sighed, pushing himself to his feet.

He couldn't allow this to tear their friendship apart. He couldn't let the two people he cared for most drift further away, not when he knew how much they meant to each other—even if they were too stubborn to admit it right now. Evangeline and Sebastian were tangled together in ways they probably didn’t even understand themselves, and Ominis had spent enough time caught in their orbit to know he had to intervene.

Ominis took a steadying breath, his resolve hardening. If there was one thing he was good at, it was cutting through Sebastian’s excuses. He wasn’t sure what he’d say yet, but he knew it wouldn’t be gentle. Sebastian had burned through every ounce of patience Ominis had left. If cruel honesty was what it took to finally get through to him, then so be it.

~

The Undercroft was quiet when Ominis arrived, the stone walls damp with the faint chill that always lingered in the hidden room. His footsteps echoed softly as he stepped inside, his wand guiding him toward the center where he knew Sebastian would be. Because when things got overwhelming—and they always did with Sebastian—he retreated to the Undercroft. It was his sanctuary.

But not today. Today, it would be his reckoning.

Sure enough, Sebastian was there, pacing in agitated circles. Ominis could hear the scuff of his boots against the floor, could feel the restless energy radiating off of him even without seeing it. He stopped mid-step when the wall closed behind Ominis, and for a moment, the silence stretched between them.

“You’re late,” Sebastian said eventually, his voice carrying a familiar edge of bravado. But it was thinner than usual, and Ominis could tell he was barely holding it together.

“You’ve really outdone yourself this time, haven’t you?” Ominis replied, his voice calm but laced with steel.

Sebastian sighed, running a hand through his hair. “If you’re just going to yell at me, save it. I’ve heard enough of it from Imelda, from Poppy—hell, even Garreth had a go at me.”

Ominis took a step forward, “And did any of them get through to you?”

Sebastian didn’t answer right away, his silence telling. Finally, he muttered, “I already know I messed up, Ominis.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Ominis snapped, his frustration breaking through. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Any idea how much you’ve hurt her?”

Sebastian flinched, but Ominis pressed on, his tone sharp. “Evangeline has stood by you through everything—through curses, through murder, protecting you from Azkaban. She’s defended you, fought for you when you didn’t deserve it. And now, because of one drunken night and your inability to think past your own damn nose, you’ve humiliated her in front of the entire school.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Sebastian said quietly, his voice strained.

Ominis barked out a bitter laugh. “Of course you didn’t. You never mean to. But that doesn’t change what happened. While she was passed out, Sebastian—passed out—you went and snogged some fifth-year by the fire. Do you even realize how that looks? How that makes her feel?”

“I wasn’t thinking!” Sebastian exploded, his voice rising. “I—Merlin, Ominis, I didn’t plan for any of this to happen! It just… it just did.”

Ominis took another step forward, his voice cutting like steel. “And instead of fixing it, you’ve spent the last week pretending it doesn’t bother you. Flashing that stupid grin, parading around with the same girl you snogged that night—”

“I’m not parading—”

“Don’t,” Ominis snapped, his tone icy. “Don’t even try to justify it. You’ve made a mess of things, Sebastian. A mess that Evangeline is paying for. And what have you done to fix it? Hm?”

Sebastian exhaled a shuddering breath, his pacing resuming as though the movement could somehow release the weight of Ominis’s words. The silence between them grew heavy again, stretching like a taut wire that threatened to snap.

“Why?” Ominis finally asked, his voice low but unyielding. “Why did you do it, Sebastian?”

Sebastian froze mid-step, his back to Ominis. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands as if the answer could be wrung out of his skull. “I don’t know,” he muttered.

“Don’t lie to me.”

Sebastian turned sharply, his frustration bubbling over. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Ominis! I was drunk! She was drunk! It just—” He stopped, his fists clenching at his sides. “It just happened.”

Ominis shook his head, unimpressed. "I’ve known you long enough to know that everything you do has a reason—even if it’s a selfish one. So tell me why. Why did you do it?"

Sebastian’s jaw worked as he looked away, his gaze fixed on some point on the floor. Ominis could hear the rapid, uneven rhythm of his breathing, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in his frame.

“What were you thinking?!” Ominis pressed, his tone sharp.

Sebastian barked out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You really want to know, Ominis? Fine. I was thinking about myself,” he said, "About what I wanted, about—” He hesitated, his voice faltering. “About what I couldn’t have.”

Ominis clenched his jaw, his knuckles whitening around his wand. He knew where this was going, but hearing Sebastian lay it out piece by piece was like watching a slow-motion train wreck.

Sebastian let out a bitter sigh, slumping against one of the stone pillars. “She was… Merlin, Evie was so drunk. But she was happy to see me. She smiled at me like, like maybe she—” He stopped himself, his jaw tightening before he forced the words out. “Like maybe she might feel the same way. Like maybe we could actually have a chance.”

“But then she passed out. And I—I should have stayed with her. I know that." He laughed again , the sound hollow and self-loathing. "But all I could think about was what it felt like when she looked at me, when she leaned into me like she didn’t want to let go. And how much I wanted her. How much I couldn’t have her. Because she'll never love me back, Ominis. And I don't deserve her anyway.”

He pressed the heel of his palm against his forehead, his words tumbling out in a rush now. “And then I saw someone else, and for one stupid, selfish second, it was easier. Easier to let myself pretend my feelings for Evie didn’t matter, to forget how much I wanted someone I couldn't have and never will. So, yes. I kissed her. I didn’t think about what it looked like, or what it meant, or how much worse it would make everything. I just… did it.” His voice cracked and he turned away, his shoulders trembling with the weight of his confession.

“And now you've ruined everything,” Ominis muttered, his voice low but razor-sharp.

Sebastian flinched, his head dropping. “I know, Ominis. You don’t have to keep saying it.”

“Oh, I do,” Ominis shot back, stepping closer, his tone gaining an edge. “Because apparently, it takes the whole damn school yelling at you before anything gets through that thick skull of yours."

Sebastian turned back to him, his expression anguished. “Do you really think you need to say all this? That I don’t already hate myself?”

“Hate yourself all you like," Ominis said coldly. "But hating yourself doesn’t fix anything. It doesn’t undo what you did, and it sure as hell doesn’t make up for the fact that you left her lying there while you went off to satisfy your ego.”

Sebastian swallowed hard, his head falling against the pillar again with a dull thud. “How could I leave her there, Ominis? I didn’t even think about what might happen to her. What if she’d gotten sick? What if someone else found her before Natty? What the hell is wrong with me?”

“Do you want me to list it all out for you, Sebastian?” Ominis’s voice was sharp and unrelenting, each word like a lash. “Do you want me to spell out exactly what’s wrong with you? Because I will. I’ll tell you that you’re selfish. That you’re reckless. That you’ve let your feelings for Evangeline warp you into someone so consumed by his own desires that you don't even think about the destruction your decisions leave in their wake.”

Sebastian flinched, but Ominis didn’t stop. He stepped closer, his voice deadly calm. “I’ll tell you that you’ve taken the strongest person I know—the one who never wavered, who stood by you when no one else would—and you’ve turned her into someone who hides. You’ve made her doubt herself. Doubt her worth. And why? Because of your selfishness. Because of your inability to think beyond your own wants.”

Sebastian’s shoulders sagged, his mouth opening as if to respond, but no words came. Ominis’s voice grew colder, his tone cutting like ice.

“You humiliated her, Sebastian. In ways no one else ever could. Not the Slytherins who taunt her about her heritage. Not the gossiping fools who envy her. You. Because she trusted you. She trusted you more than anyone else in this world, and you threw that trust away—for what? A fleeting, meaningless moment of distraction?”

Sebastian’s fists clenched, his knuckles white. “I didn’t—” he started, his voice hoarse.

“Didn’t what?” Ominis interrupted, stepping closer until he was looming over Sebastian, “Didn’t think? Didn’t mean it? Those excuses won’t fix what you’ve done. You can’t undo this with hollow words or promises you’ll never keep.”

Sebastian’s breath hitched, his head hanging low as Ominis continued, his tone softening slightly but still firm. “You're broken. You’ve been breaking ever since Anne left, ever since Solomon died, ever since you let yourself believe you don’t deserve better. And maybe you’re right. Maybe you don’t. You sure as hell don't deserve Evangeline. But she deserves better than the coward you’re being right now.”

The silence that followed was suffocating, heavy with the weight of Ominis’s words. For once, Sebastian had no quick retort, no deflections or bravado to hide behind. He stood there, raw and exposed, the reality of his actions settling over him like a suffocating fog.

Ominis stepped back, his expression unreadable. “If you want to fix this, then stop wallowing and do something about it. Not for you—for her. She’s not going to wait for you forever, Sebastian."

Sebastian looked up at him then, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I don’t know how,” he whispered. “I don’t know where to start, Ominis.”

Ominis stared at Sebastian for a long moment. His sharp features softened only slightly, though the anger still simmered beneath the surface.

“You start,” Ominis said, his voice low and deliberate, “By telling her the truth. And then you listen, Sebastian. You listen to what she has to say, and you take it. Whatever she throws at you, you take it, because you deserve it.”

Sebastian flinched at the finality in Ominis’s tone, the weight of his words sinking deeper into the pit of his stomach. His eyes fell to the floor, his shoulders sagging under the crushing realization of just how badly he’d screwed up. “What if she doesn't forgive me?” he asked, his voice trembling.

“I think,” Ominis said, his voice softer now but no less firm, “that Evangeline Sterling has already given you more chances than anyone else ever would. And if you don’t stop wasting them, then yes, Sebastian. She’ll stop listening. She’ll stop caring. And she'll stop forgiving. But you have no one to blame but yourself.”

Sebastian nodded slowly, the motion heavy with resignation. “I’ll... I'll talk to her,” he said finally, his voice hollow.

Ominis didn’t respond right away. He studied Sebastian for a moment longer, as though weighing his words. Then he gave a short, curt nod. “Good. And Sebastian?”

Sebastian looked up at him, his expression hollow and weary. “Yeah?”

“If she forgives you, don’t make her regret giving you another chance.” Ominis’s voice was like iron, unyielding. “Because if you hurt her again, I won’t forgive you either.”

Sebastian’s throat tightened, the weight of Ominis’s warning settling over him like a second layer of guilt. He didn’t reply, and Ominis didn’t wait for him to. With a swish of his wand, the Undercroft’s entrance opened, and Ominis stepped through without another word, leaving Sebastian alone with his thoughts.

~

Sebastian woke to the damp chill of the Undercroft, the rough stone beneath him pressing uncomfortably into his back. His neck ached from the awkward angle at which he’d slumped against one of the pillars, and his robes were crumpled, wrinkled from what could hardly be called sleep. For a moment, he stared up at the ceiling, his mind foggy and disoriented, the weight in his chest a stubborn, familiar ache.

How had he ended up here?

It hit him all at once: Ominis. His words. The cold fury in his voice, the brutal precision of every accusation. The memory surged back like a slap, leaving no room for denial, no way to escape the truth Ominis had hammered into him.

You humiliated her, Sebastian. In ways no one else ever could. Because she trusted you.

Sebastian groaned, dragging a hand over his face. The coarse fabric of his sleeve scratched against his skin, grounding him against the dull throb of his guilt. He knew he deserved it. Deserved worse, even. But that didn’t make it any easier to breathe.

Sebastian sat up slowly, his body stiff and sluggish. The cool air of the Undercroft wrapped around him, biting through his crumpled robes, but he barely felt it. All he could feel was the memory of Evangeline’s absence—her quiet absence in the hallways, the way her laughter had disappeared from their group, leaving behind a hollow silence he couldn’t fill.

You threw that trust away.

Sebastian pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, as if he could physically push the memories back, stop them from replaying over and over. But they wouldn’t stop, because Ominis had been right. His words weren’t just true—they were inescapable.

Because she trusted you.

The thought alone was enough to drive him to his feet, his legs trembling slightly from the hours he’d spent curled on the ground. He staggered upright, leaning briefly against the pillar for support as his knees protested. His movements were stiff, his body as uncooperative, but he couldn’t stay here.

He had to find her. He had to try to fix this.

The Great Hall buzzed with its usual morning energy as Sebastian stepped inside, scanning the Gryffindor table for any sign of her. His stomach clenched when he saw that her usual spot—wedged between Natty and Cressida—was empty. His heart sank further when he caught sight of the guarded expressions on their faces as he approached.

“Where’s Evangeline?” he asked, his voice rough from sleep and the lingering tension in his chest.

Natty exchanged a glance with Cressida before answering. “We don’t know,” she said carefully.

Sebastian frowned. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Cressida said softly, “that she hasn’t been around much. We didn't see her this morning in the common room, nor in our dorm. She’s barely there. She wakes up before us, goes to bed late, and hardly says a word.”

Her words landed like a blow to his gut. “She hasn’t said where she’s been?”

Natty shook her head, her expression turning to one of quiet reproach. “Sebastian, she’s avoiding people for a reason.”

He swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat. He wanted to press them for more, but the look in Natty’s eyes was enough to stop him. She knew what had happened—of course she did, she's the one who found Evie laying there alone—and there was no hiding from the judgment in her eyes.

“Thanks,” he muttered before turning on his heel and stalking out of the hall.

The hours that followed were a frustrating blur of dead ends as Sebastian scoured every corner of the castle he could think of.

He wandered through the library first, weaving between the shelves and peering into the tucked-away corners where she liked to study. His footsteps echoed in the quiet space, but no matter how far he searched, there was no sign of her. Madam Scribner glared at him over her spectacles when his whispered inquiries became too loud, and he left before her irritation could boil over into words.

The Quidditch pitch was his next stop, but it, too, was empty, save for a pair of second-years casually tossing a Quaffle back and forth. He lingered at the edge of the stands for a moment, staring out at the expanse of grass, before turning away with a muttered curse.

By the time night fell, his legs ached from climbing stairs and traversing hallways, but his determination remained unwavering. He retreated to the Undercroft once more, hoping that she might show up, seeking the solace the hidden room often provided. But as the minutes stretched into hours, he was met with nothing but the cold, empty silence of the space.

It was in the early hours of morning that Sebastian finally slipped through the entrance to the Slytherin common room. The dim, green-tinted room was nearly empty, save for a pair of fifth-years whispering near the hearth, but Sebastian barely spared them a glance as he made his way toward his dormitory.

He felt hollow, his chest tight with frustration and guilt. Hours of searching had turned up nothing, and the idea of going to bed without finding her filled him with a restless dread.

Pushing open the door to his dormitory, he stepped inside, his gaze immediately snapping to the companion candle on his bedside table. The soft glow of its flame greeted him, flickering steadily. His pulse quickened.

Evangeline was awake somewhere.

Sebastian stepped back into the corridor and closed the door behind him, leaning heavily against it as relief warred with frustration. She was awake. But where?

He racked his brain, thought back to every conversation, every memory they’d shared, searching for something—anything—that might give him a clue of where she might be hiding.

And then, it hit him.

The memory she’d shared with him for his birthday. It had been a beautiful day by the Black Lake in their fifth year, the two of them sitting side by side, staring out at the water as the sky reflected on its surface.

Sebastian pushed off the door, his heart pounding. Maybe she was there. It was a long shot, but it was all he had.

The castle was silent as he slipped through its shadowed corridors. Sneaking out past curfew was second nature to him by now, but tonight, his usual thrill of rebellion was absent. All he could focus on was finding her.

The cool night air hit him as he stepped onto the grounds, the vast expanse of the Black Lake stretching out before him. The moonlight danced across its surface, casting rippling reflections that seemed to shift with the breeze. The chill bit at his exposed skin, but he ignored it, his eyes scanning the shoreline.

And then he saw her.

She was perched on a low, weathered rock near the edge of the lake, her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. Her long hair spilled over her shoulders, catching the moonlight.

For a moment, he stopped, his breath catching in his throat. The sight of her after what felt like an eternity apart stilled him, rooting him to the spot. She looked so small, so fragile, her usual fire dimmed into quiet embers.

Sebastian swallowed hard, forcing his legs to move. The crunch of his boots against the gravel shore broke the silence, and he saw her stiffen slightly at the sound. She didn’t turn to look at him, but he knew she knew he was there.

“Evie,” he said softly, his voice barely carrying over the lapping of the lake’s gentle waves.

She didn’t respond. Her gaze remained fixed on the water, her arms tightening around her knees.

Sebastian hesitated, unsure whether to move closer. He felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, and one wrong step would send them both tumbling into an abyss they couldn’t climb out of.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said, his voice trembling with the weight of everything he’d been carrying.

“Why?” she asked, her tone flat and distant. The single word cut through him like a blade.

He took a step closer, the cool air biting at his skin. “Because I need to talk to you."

She let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow and devoid of warmth. "What for? To give me some excuse for why you left me there? Why you chose her over me?" Her voice cracked, and she quickly turned away, her hands gripping the fabric of her cardigan - the very same one he'd picked out for her weeks ago in Hogsmeade. And now, seeing her clutch it like armor against him, the memory felt like a knife twisting in his chest.

“I—” His voice faltered. He had spent hours in his mind rehearsing what he might say if he found her, but now, faced with the raw pain in her voice and the sight of her curling further into herself, every word felt inadequate.

“You what, Sebastian?” she snapped, finally turning to look at him. Her eyes, glinting in the moonlight, weren’t filled with the fire he was used to. They were dulled, tired, and red-rimmed from tears. “You didn’t mean for it to happen? You didn’t think it would matter? You didn’t—what? Care?”

“That’s not true,” he said quickly, the desperation in his tone undeniable. “I care, Evie. I care more than I can—” He stopped, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I just… I didn’t think. I was stupid, and I didn’t think.”

“Didn’t think.” She repeated the words slowly, bitterly, her voice dripping with disbelief. “That’s always your excuse, isn’t it?”

Sebastian flinched, the accusation hitting harder than he’d expected.

“You didn’t think about how I would feel,” she continued, her voice steady but trembling with barely restrained emotion. “You didn’t think about what it would be like for me to hear what you did—to watch you strut around the school with her on your arm and know that everyone was laughing at my expense. You didn’t think about how it would feel to trust you, to stand by you, and have you turn around and… and—”

She broke off, her voice cracking as her gaze dropped back to the water. Her arms tightened around her knees again, her fingers digging into the fabric of the cardigan.

Sebastian took another step closer, his hands clenched at his sides as though he was physically holding himself back from reaching for her. “Evangeline,” he murmured, her full name slipping out instinctively.

"Don't call me that." Her voice cracked, sharp and brittle, as if the words themselves were a shield she had hastily raised.

Sebastian froze.

She had never stopped him from calling her Evangeline—never. It wasn’t just her name; it was his, in a way... something he naturally wielded with purpose. He used it sparingly, reserved for moments that carried weight: when he wanted to tease her into a smile, make her pause and really hear him, or when he needed to say something only she could understand. It was his way of reaching past her walls, of breaking through barriers when she threw them up. Now, hearing her reject it felt like a door slamming shut, leaving him stranded on the other side.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, the words rough and uneven.

She shook her head, her gaze still fixed on the water. “Don’t say things you don’t mean,” she murmured. “You’re good at that, you know—saying what people want to hear."

Sebastian stepped closer, “I do mean it,” he said, his voice low but firm. “I’m sorry, Evang—Evie. For everything. For hurting you. For making you feel like I didn’t care. I... I don’t know how to fix it, but I want to. I need to.”

She let out a hollow laugh, her shoulders rising and falling with the motion. “Fix it? You can’t undo what you did. You can’t un-snog her. You can’t erase what everyone’s saying.”

“I know,” he said, his voice almost breaking. “I know I can’t. But that doesn’t mean I won’t try to make it right."

Her head turned slightly at that, her eyes meeting his for a fleeting moment before darting away. “For me, or for you?” she asked softly. “You sure you're not just here to soothe your guilt? To make yourself feel better?”

“No!” he said urgently, stepping closer again. “This isn’t about me, Evie, it’s about you—because you’re…” His voice faltered, and he blinked hard, feeling the sting of tears building behind his eyes. “You’re everything to me, Evie. You always have been.”

Her breath hitched at his words, her posture stiffening as if she were bracing herself against them. “Stop,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Stop saying things you don’t mean.”

Sebastian’s throat tightened, and a tear slipped down his cheek, warm and bitter against his skin. He wiped it away hastily, as if embarrassed, but his hands trembled at his sides. “I’ve never meant anything more in my life,” he said, his voice raw. He took another step, closing the space between them, and knelt in front of her. His chest heaved with the effort to keep himself steady, to show her the truth in every fractured word.

Her hazel eyes lingered on the water for another beat, and then she exhaled, her shoulders sinking under the weight of everything she’d been holding back. It wasn’t a collapse, but a quiet unraveling, as though all her defenses were fraying at the edges.

The first tear slid down her cheek, and she didn’t bother to wipe it away. It was followed by another, and then another, until her breath hitched, a small, broken sound escaping her lips. She pressed her trembling hands to her face, muffling the quiet sobs that started to spill free.

“Evie…” Sebastian’s voice cracked, raw and filled with desperation. His own eyes burned, his own tears slipping free, but he reached out instinctively, his hand hovering uncertainly over her arm. “Please... don’t cry. I—Merlin, I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head without looking at him, her face buried in her hands. “You don’t get it,” she gasped through the tears, her voice raw and choked. “You don’t get how hard it is—how humiliated I’ve felt. I was always the one who stood by you, Sebastian. Always. And this... this is what I get for it.”

“You’re right,” he said hoarsely, his voice breaking again. “You’re right about all of it. I’ve been selfish, reckless... I’ve hurt you in ways I don’t know how to fix. But Evie, please believe me—I never meant to. I never wanted to hurt you.”

His hand trembled as it settled gently on her arm, the gesture tentative, pleading. When her gaze flickered down to it, Sebastian froze, his breath catching in his throat. He braced himself for her to pull away.

For a long moment, she didn’t move, her lips pressing into a thin line. But then, with a sigh so soft it was almost inaudible, she shifted, her body leaning ever so slightly toward him.

He stayed perfectly still, his breath catching as she let her head drop, her temple brushing lightly against his shoulder. He could feel her uneven breaths, the tremble in her frame as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I don’t know what to do with you, Sebastian,” she said after a long silence, her voice barely above a whisper. There was no anger in her tone now, no sharp edges. Just tired, aching honesty. “You always do this. You hurt me, and then you come back, and somehow, I always forgive you.”

He swallowed hard, guilt twisting in his chest like a knife. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he said quietly, his voice rough.

She didn’t respond right away, her silence stretching out between them. The soft lapping of the lake’s waves didn't even fill the void that had grown. And when she finally spoke again, her voice was so quiet he almost missed it.

“I don’t know if I can keep doing this. I keep thinking… maybe this time will be different. Maybe you’ll change. And then... you don’t.”

Sebastian flinched, “Evie, please,” he said, his voice raw. “I’m trying. I know I’ve failed, but I am trying. I swear I am.”

She let out a quiet, hollow laugh, her breath warm against his shoulder. “I think you believe that,” she said softly. “But it doesn’t feel like it from where I’m standing. From where I’m... sitting.” Her lips quirked faintly, though there was no humor in the gesture.

Sebastian’s chest tightened further, his vision blurred by unshed tears, “I’ll do better,” he said, his voice heavy with desperation. “I swear it, Evie. I know I’ve let you down. Over and over. And I hate myself for it. I hate what I’ve done to you. What I’ve done to us.”

She leaned back to look at him and her gaze softened slightly, though the weariness didn’t leave her eyes. “I don’t want you to hate yourself, Sebastian,” she said quietly. “I just… I just want you to stop hurting me.”

Sebastian felt her words sink into him like lead weights, dragging him down with the raw, simple truth of them. Stop hurting me. It wasn’t a demand or an accusation. It wasn’t even spoken with anger. It was a plea—fragile and trembling, like she didn’t even expect it to be possible.

“I will, Evie,” he murmured, his voice raw and unsteady. “I swear it.”

Her lips twitched faintly, though the ghost of a smile never quite formed. “You say that,” she said softly, leaning back against him. “And maybe you mean it. It's just... I don’t think I can take it again if you’re wrong.”

He didn’t respond right away. He didn’t trust himself to. Instead, he let the silence settle between them again, his hand still resting lightly on her arm. He wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, the quiet stretching out into a fragile bubble. But eventually, he spoke again, his voice low and steady.

“I’m not wrong this time,” he said, the words more a vow than a promise. “I can’t be. Because I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

Evangeline's breath hitched then, and for a moment, he thought she might pull away. But instead, she simply nodded, a silent acknowledgment of his words. A silent understanding.

Sebastian let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his hand hesitating before shifting to cover hers where it rested against her knee. He didn’t squeeze, didn’t grip—just let his palm rest there, warm and steady, like an unspoken promise.

“You’re still a bloody idiot,” Evie murmured after what felt like an eternity, her voice muffled against his shoulder.

Sebastian let out a faint laugh, the sound rough and cracked but real. “Yeah,” he admitted, his lips twitching into the barest of smiles. “I probably always will be.”

She pulled back just enough to look at him, her hazel eyes searching his face. There was still hurt there, still an ache he couldn’t hope to erase in a single night. But there was something else, too—a flicker of something softer, something that gave him hope.

“Please don’t make me regret this, Sebastian,” she said quietly.

His throat tightened, and he nodded, his eyes locked on hers. “I won’t,” he promised, his voice raw but unwavering. “Not this time.”

For a moment, she held his gaze, her expression unreadable. Then, with a small, almost imperceptible sigh, she leaned back into him, letting her arms snake around his waist, pulling him closer.

The tension that had been coiled so tightly in Sebastian’s shoulders began to ease as he closed his eyes, his chin lightly brushing the top of her head. The scent of her hair enveloped him. It was a comfort he hadn’t realized he was desperate for until now.

“I mean it,” he murmured, his voice soft, “Whatever it takes, Evangeline, I’ll prove it to you. I’ll fix what I’ve broken.”

Her grip on him tightened slightly, and though she didn’t respond, he felt the subtle shift in her breathing. She was letting him in, piece by fragile piece. It wasn’t forgiveness—not yet—but it was something. A beginning.

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

Read on AO3

Gryffindor Divider Credit

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Homecoming

Shimmer!Kane x f!reader

Something small. :)

Summary: Kane came back from his special operation but something was off with him.

Content: Some comfort, NSFW, smut, oral (fem! receiving), also I will add foreshadowing.

Kane has been away for months now, you could still remember all the times you two talked about it.

You didn't wanted him to go, what if something bad would happen to him?

You miss him so much.

Everyday, atleast once you two did a phone call or facetime to see and hear eachother.

Kane did miss you just as much as you missed him, perhaps even more than you did.

But Kane's phone calls have stopped a few days ago and you were scared if something has happened to him.

Since then, you had trouble falling asleep, your mind was pre-occupied with Kane.

-

Another night sleeping without your Kane. This time your sleep was deeper than most times.

Deep in slumber, you started feeling a small tingling sensation on your shoulder. It felt too real to be a dream. The tingling had creeped its way towards the crook of your neck, causing you to smile and stir out of sleep.

After opening your sleepy eyes, you were met with familiar brown ones, his face was neutral but he had a faint smile on his face. Immediately you started smiling, realizing he's real.

"Kane?"

His smile widened slightly. "Hey, beauty."

Unable to contain your excitement, you sat up and hugged him tightly.

"Kane I missed you so freaking much!"

"Missed you more, it was unbearable without you out there." His arms came around you, his warm hands slowly traveled up your back.

Resting your head on his shoulder, you noticed something on your bedside table - Orange juice.

Kane noticed you eyeing the Orange juice.

"I know you like it, so I thought I bring it to you once I would return."

You smile, "Kane," you pulled back "please, you returning was the only thing I wished for."

"Missed your lovely Kane so much, hm?" He hummed, rubbing your back soothingly.

You chuckle. "Of course I did."

He smiled. "I knew you would."

Kane gently pulled away to stand up. "I'll go get myself something to drink, okay?"

Without waiting for your answer, he left.

Without thinking nothing too much about it, you went for the kitchen too after a minute, spotting Kane at the dining table with a glass of water.

When Kane noticed you, there was a very faint, yellow-ish glimmer in his eyes, which you thought nothing about it given the late time in the middle of the night.

Sitting down beside him, resting your cheek on his shoulder and wrapping one arm around him, you were just glad Kane was back.

"Did everything end up as planned?" you couldn't help but ask.

His fingers around the glass tightened slightly but relaxed just as quickly. "Yeah... it went surprisingly well..." he drawled.

"Nothing too dangerous or complicated?"

"There were some, let's say... things you wouldn't normally see." he said calmly, but there was some tension behind it.

"Top secret stuff?" you smiled.

He chuckled softly. "Well, if you want to call it that, then yes."

Kane wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his side. "What do you say, wanna go back to bed? I just missed you so much you can't believe it."

With a nod, you got up, Kane following you back to the bedroom. Once there, you slipped back under the covers while Kane got undressed.

"Since you couldn't bear me being away for so long, how about we catch up?" He smiled, moving ontop of you.

"Aren't you supposed to be tired?" you chuckle.

"How could I be tired when I know my sweet girl is waiting for me to come back after months of only having herself?" Kane grins, moving lower, gently pulling your panties off and spreading your thighs.

"Kane, you don't have to, really." your breath hitched slightly.

"But I want to." he insisted, his hand moving to your folds, running a finger through them, his thumb moved to rub your clit slowly.

He shoved two fingers inside, scissoring them just right to drive you crazy. Kane watched you gasping and moaning, then dipped in, his tongue flicking your clit, enjoying the sounds you're making.

Kane's tongue slipped past your folds, into your leaking pussy, thrusting gently before slipping out again, licking all the way through your folds, which had you gripping the sheets impossibly hard.

"Does that feel good babe, hm? Do I make you feel good?"

Your eyes met his, which had curiosity in them but were filled with lust.

There was that fain glimmer in his eyes again but this time it was slightly stronger, blue with a shade of green, it looked like it was very slowly moving in his Iris.

Kane smiled.

"I love seeing you like that, sweetie. I wanna keep it that way as long as possible. So beautiful."

-----------------------------

Tags:

@nekoyin @iolaussharpe-24 @steven-grants-world @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @faretheeoscar

@krakenkitty @mooksmouse @silvernight-m @tokkiwrites @appeltaartglitter

@alexxavicry @rosegnome @ghoulzsstuff @freedreampeach @autismsupermusicalassassin

@ivystoryweaver @theaterm @klillaah @freedreampeach

Wanna get tagged?

[the-kr8tor]

Hii I have short drabble prompt how about the reader makes plushies of them and Hobie similar people making hello Kitty of themselves and partner hope having good day/night

Hi, lovely! I hope this is what you meant! Thank you for requesting ❤️❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, subtle talk of marriage, lovestruck! Hobie, fluff

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

The ribbon in your hands is soft and silky to the touch. Your music blares in your ears as you wrap his anniversary present, you still can't believe that you and Hobie have been going strong for a year now. A year full of love and annoying each other with teasing remarks. You smile at the fond memories flitting through your mind like a film roll showing you all the best bits.

Finally tying the ribbon to perfection, you stare proudly at how well you packaged his gift. The box is covered in checkered wrapping paper with the ribbon in the same ruby hue. Now that you're staring at it, the present looks more like a Christmas gift than an anniversary present.

Your pride takes a hit, shoulders slumping down at the thought. “Shit.” Now you gotta start all over again, preferably with new wrapping paper. Maybe something that has hearts on it will be better? Or something that matches with the gift you've painstakingly worked hard on for weeks will fit better? Or will that be too on the nose?

Thinking very hard on a very hard decision, you don't hear the sound of keys outside your flat, and the unmistakable jiggle of the doorknob as it opens with a squeak.

“You need some oil on this, lovie—” he stops in his tracks when you don't immediately greet him with a hug or a loud ‘Hobie!’ the second he enters. He finds it…weird to not be cuddled right away. You've spoilt him.

Hobie tilts his head to the side, peeking through the open kitchen only to not find you whistling a tune while making something sweet. Pocketing the spare key you gave him so that he stops popping up from your fire escape, he crosses the modest flat in hopes of finding you. Lest his surprise goes to waste, or worse, eaten by London pigeons.

Knocking on the bedroom door, he calls your name sweetly with a sing-song lilt. Of course he didn't forget what day it is today. How could he when it's been marked on his calendar since the day you said yes to him being your boyfriend? He has been counting down the days, annoyingly so to the gang at spider society, who are probably waiting for the news on how the day went.

“Love?” He peeks inside when you don't answer, he knows you're in there when he can hear the blaring music from where he's standing. A grin spreads across his pierced lips, seeing how your hips are gently swaying to the music, arms crossed in front of you like you're in deep contemplation.

Sneaking in, it doesn't take much for him to go unnoticeable by you when your music is ear burstingly loud. He looks over your shoulder to look at what's got your pants in a twist, his eyes widens when he sees the finely wrapped gift, grin getting bigger at how excited he is to open it.

But before he could surprise you, hoping that he'll hear you screech so loud that the neighbours would complain about the noise, you're unfurling the ribbon already with a gentle tug.

“Wait— oi!” He immediately wraps his arms around your middle, effectively stopping you from opening his present. Your shocked scream pierces his eardrums more than your music.

“Holy— Hobie?!”

“That's right, lovie.” He smirks at your shocked expression. When you tilt your head to look at him, he presses a surprise kiss on the tip of your nose, effectively flustering you in his arms.

You swear your legs would've given out if not for his arms around you. “What— you're early!”

“Y’know what they say, early bird gets the present.” He chuckles at your forced laugh. “‘sides, I think ‘m late because you're already openin’ my present.”

“How presumptuous,” you lean against his warm chest, mirroring his grin. “Maybe this isn't yours.”

“You sure that's not my name on the card?”

“I'm pretty sure it's not your name.” You tamp down a chuckle.

“Who’s it for then?” He raises a brow, a teasing smirk on his lips. “Ned?”

“Close, it's for James.”

“That bloody wanker doesn't even know your last name!” He squeezes you tighter, lifting you up from your feet, and face nuzzling the crook of your neck, effectively tickling you.

“And you do?!” You say in between laughter, riling him up further.

He stops for reprieve and air, still squeezing you in his arms. “Fuck yeah I do!”

“What is it then, Mr. Brown?” You raise your chin at him like you're challenging him.

“You just said it, love.” Your cheeks feel like it's on fire, smile faltering for a second before it's replaced with a lopsided grin. “Or it'll be in a few years I bet.”

You bite your lip to tamp down any giddy laughter from escaping. “Care to bet good money on it?”

“Nah, it'll be cheatin’ because I already know I'll win.” He winks at you all suave like, and pressing another chaste yet affectionate kiss on your searing cheek. Letting you go, and fixing your balance once his arms aren't around you anymore, he walks towards his gift. “What's this then?”

“It wouldn't make sense if I told you now, Hobie.” You sigh out, completely lovestruck with him that your legs refuse to stand up as you plummet down on the bed with a squeak.

Hobie picks the box up gingerly, “why were you openin’ it?”

You shrug on the mattress. “I thought it looked too Christmas-ssy. I was about to change the wrapping until you shocked me into a near heart attack.”

“‘cus of all the red?” He's trying incredibly hard not to rip the wrapping open to see his present. He sits down next to you with your gift gingerly placed on his lap.

“Mm-hmm,” you lay on your side, cheek squished on the bed. “You can open it, you know.”

“Thank fuck, I was holdin’ back.”

He's much more gentle at opening the gift even though he's itching to see what's inside. In the end the wrapping is still intact and the ribbon is wrapped around his head like a bandana, courtesy of a playful you.

“Fuckin' hell, is that me?” He looks at the inside of the box then to you, “and…You!” His childish giggling echoes around your room. You smile as he lifts both plushies up from its cardboard confinement. “Did you make these?” Hobie holds them up side by side.

His plushie is as soft and cuddly as the real one, complete with his regular spiky and leather fit. His eyes are buttons that are in the same shade as his hazel ones, you've even captured his signature smirk through the stitching. Yours is just as accurate as the real one, you're wearing your favourite outfit, the one you wore on your first real date with him. But with the added touch of his spiked bracelet that he gave you on your third date with him. All made by you from scratch.

A sudden shyness envelopes you like a blanket. Hands clammy and chest heavy. “Do you like them?”

“Love,” he makes a face, wordlessly saying 'really?’ with his handsome face. “I fuckin' love it!” Pouncing on you, he embraces you as he lays atop you. Calloused hands cradling your cheeks whilst he peppers your face with warm and affectionate kisses. “You're a bloody wizard, how the fuck did you make these so perfectly?” He says as he lifts himself above you, beaming down at you with endearment.

“I had to stare at your picture for hours on end.” You act like it was a tedious task. You loved making the plushies with all of your heart.

“A win win then?” Tilting his head, he can't help but smile even more that his cheeks are starting to hurt.

“Absolutely.” You say with a chuckle, “I also started on a Spider-Man suit for plushie you, but I haven't finished it yet.”

“You goddamn angel.” He coos, “don't finish it yet, let me help you, yeah?” You nod as he leans closer to etch his lips upon yours. But he stops halfway, paused as he stares at your blissful face while your eyes are closed and lips pursed in waiting. “First…” you crack one eye open, lips still puckered together. He squeezes your lips together playfully with his index and thumb before letting go as you fake a pout. “You need to see your present.”

Hobie lifts himself off you in one swift motion. “What is it?”

“That beats the purpose of a surprise, innit?” In one fell swoop, he pulls you off the bed, standing you back up. “C’mon then.”

“Wait, hold on!” He's already walking out towards the fire escape. Picking up the plushies, you connect their hands together. The magnet you've stitched inside pulls the soft hands together like they're holding hands. “Ta da! I almost forgot I did that.”

Hobie looks at you in awe. “You never fail to surprise me, lovie.” He says it so sweetly that you almost melted into a puddle right there and then. “Bring them with.”

You take a step forward, arms full of the mini Hobie and you. “Wait, we're swinging to get there?”

He shrugs with the familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. “There's traffic.”

Meeting with him, he immediately pulls you towards him with a strong sturdy arm. “You better not fake drop me, Hobie.” You say as he gestures for you to wrap your legs around his hips.

Standing up, he climbs over the balcony, feet precariously perched on the thin metal. “That was one time, love.” With one hand, he holds you in place, the other is raised and aiming towards the nearest building.

“One time too many—!” He jumps off and you feel your stomach leave your body. His cackling can be heard above the rushing wind kissing your cheeks.

[majoriehoax]

╰┈➤ ❝ BOTS UPLOADED ❞

╰┈➤ ❝ includes scream / elite / stranger things / PJO / diary of a wimpy kid

╰┈➤ ❝ BILLY LOOMIS ⚔︎ mask || Billy leaned against the kitchen counter, his dark eyes fixed on the back door, waiting for the sound of footsteps. He heard them approach, slow and deliberate, before the door creaked open. He didn’t move right away, just watched, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Hey,” he greeted casually, pushing himself off the counter. “You took your time.” His tone was relaxed, maybe even amused, but his gaze was sharp, like he was seeing something nobody else could. Billy wandered around the room, his fingers grazing the edge of the counter as he spoke. “You ever think about how people… wear these masks every day? Act like they’re something they’re not?” He paused, glancing over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “I mean, it’s kind of fascinating, right?”

╰┈➤ ❝ CARLA ROSON 💳 new student || Carla spotted the new student lingering near the entrance of Las Encinas, looking a little lost and out of place. She sighed, watching as they awkwardly fumbled with their schedule and glanced around, clearly unsure of where to go. With a slight smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, she decided to step in. Striding over, Carla flashed a polite but amused smile. “You must be new,” she stated, her tone calm and confident. “Let me guess—first day, no idea where to start?” The newcomer nodded, looking somewhat relieved to have someone approach. Carla gave a little shrug, her eyes glinting with a hint of intrigue. “Don’t worry. This place can be… a bit overwhelming,” she said with a knowing smile. “I’m Carla, by the way.”

╰┈➤ ❝ JONATHAN BYERS ⊹ ࣪ ˖ sparks fly || Jonathan didn’t know exactly when his harmless little crush on user had turned into this all-consuming distraction. All he knew was that whenever she stood close, every coherent thought he might’ve had completely dissolved. His pulse was loud in his ears, and he had to remind himself to keep breathing, keep cool, act normal—whatever that even meant anymore. That day in the Hawkins High hallway, she was leaning casually against a locker, smiling at him in that way that made him feel like maybe she knew what was going on in his head and didn’t mind. Jonathan tried to keep his focus, nodding along to whatever she was saying, but his mind kept drifting to how close she was. Close enough that if he just leaned in a little… He snapped out of it, swallowing, hoping she couldn’t read his thoughts. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting an almost ethereal glow on her. She laughed, and he caught himself smiling back, probably looking like a total idiot, his eyes fixed on her mouth. He quickly looked down at his shoes, cheeks burning, cursing himself for being so obvious.

╰┈➤ ❝ LUKE CASTELLAN 🍓strawberry field || As the morning sun began to rise over the strawberry fields, a gentle warmth spread across the soft grass and dew-kissed leaves. Luke stirred, feeling the tender rays of dawn on his face. For a moment, he kept his eyes closed, savoring the feeling of peace that surrounded him. The air was filled with the faint, sweet scent of strawberries mingling with the fresh morning breeze. Opening his eyes slowly, Luke turned his gaze toward the figure resting peacefully beside him. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and his heart swelled as he watched them sleep, still wrapped in the afterglow of the night they had shared. He reached out carefully, brushing a stray strand of hair from their face with gentle fingers, not wanting to wake them but unable to resist the urge to be close to them, to memorize the quiet beauty of the moment.

╰┈➤ ❝ PERCY JACKSON ｡𖦹˚. bi bi bi (masc user!) || Percy was sprawled out on the grass by the lake, squinting up at the autumn sun through his fingers. Camp Half-Blood was quieter than usual, most campers off in the arena training or gathered in the pavilion. But Percy liked it here by the water, feeling the cool breeze ruffle his hair, the faint scent of pine and ocean mingling around him. It was peaceful, the kind of peace he hadn’t really known before Camp Half-Blood had become his second home. He glanced to the side, where user sat cross-legged, idly tracing patterns in the dirt. They’d been close for months now, training together, sharing stories, laughing over just about anything. The first time Percy had realized how much he liked spending time with them, it had hit him harder than any monster ever had. With Annabeth, he’d always been sure, that tug in his heart pulling him straight toward her. But with user, it felt different—unexpected, gentle, as if he were discovering something new about himself, layer by layer. (book percy!)

╰┈➤ ❝ RODRICK HEFFLEY 🎸 teenage dirtbag || Rodrick leaned against his van in the high school parking lot, arms crossed, his usual smirk plastered on his face. He watched as user walked up, wearing that band shirt he’d never admit he thought was cool. He pushed himself off the van with a lazy shove, barely nodding as he opened the passenger door and gestured for them to get in. He didn’t say much at first—Rodrick never did when he could get away with it—but there was a little grin when he caught user sneaking a glance at him. The van smelled like gas station snacks and that weird pine tree air freshener he’d jammed into the vent a few months ago. His favorite CD was already blasting some loud, screechy guitar solo. Rodrick liked it that way; it saved him from having to come up with something clever to say. Instead, he threw the van in gear and peeled out of the parking lot, a little too fast on purpose.

— SAOIRSE.

[starrrcane]

Club lights

Abby Anderson x reader

warnings: reader has a boyfriend(🤢), and is quite insecure about their self, lesbian sex, a little bit of alcohol(since it’s set in a bar/club). Reader cheats on her bf

summary: modern!AU Abby Anderson helping reader discover a new version of theirself .

notes: this probably has a million typos pls leave me alone😞😞😞this is kinda supposed to be based off of Good Luck Babe by Chappel Roan, idk if it work. If this does well I have three more chapters ready to go😇 happy arcane eve!!!

The club was a cacophony of flashing lights, pounding bass, and laughter that felt like static in your ears. You sat at a corner table with your boyfriend and his friends, nursing a drink that had lost its appeal long ago. His hand rested on your thigh in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture, but it felt more like a leash.

"I'm going to the bathroom," you muttered, standing abruptly.

He barely glanced up. "Alright," he said, distracted by a game on his phone.

The narrow hallway leading to the restroom was dim, lined with flickering neon signs. You passed a handful of people, but one stood out—a tall, broad-shouldered woman leaning against the bar. Her sharp eyes caught yours, and a flicker of recognition passed through her smirk. She didn’t look away, even as you did.

In the single-stall bathroom, you leaned against the sink and stared at yourself in the mirror.

"You’re beautiful," you murmured to your reflection, adjusting your dress and reapplying your lip gloss. "You don’t need him to tell you that. You don’t need anyone."

The words felt hollow, and your chest ached with the weight of your doubt.

The door creaked open suddenly, and your heart skipped a beat. Whipping around, you saw her—the woman from the hallway. She stepped in without hesitation, closing the door behind her.

"You forgot to lock it," she said with a smirk, crossing her arms.

Your eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"

She shrugged, leaning against the wall. "I just wanted to see what a woman like you says to herself in the mirror. Guess I found out."

"Excuse me?"

She took a step forward, her gaze unwavering. "You know your boyfriend only sees you as beautiful when you're spread out for him."

Heat flushed your cheeks, anger and embarrassment mingling. "Who the hell are you to talk to me like that?"

"Just someone who sees what you don’t," she replied, her voice calm and unshaken.

You scoffed and turned back to the mirror, reapplying your lip gloss with unnecessary precision. "I don’t mess around with women."

She let out a low, derisive chuckle. "Those lip glosses only ruin the taste of kisses."

You glared at her through the reflection. "Is that supposed to mean something to me?"

She stepped closer, her presence filling the small space. Her hands found the edges of the sink on either side of you, caging you in without touching you.

"Do you really think a pretty dress and shiny lips are enough for someone who doesn’t see you?" she asked softly, her voice dipping into something almost tender.

You froze, your heart hammering in your chest.

"You looked so bored with him," she continued. "With all of his little friends. I thought maybe my company would suit you better."

Her breath was warm against your ear, and despite yourself, you felt your resolve falter.

"Let me decide who I want to spend time with," you snapped, stepping out of her hold.

She raised her hands in mock surrender. "Fair enough."

She turned to leave, but before she could reach the door, you blurted out, "Wait."

She glanced over her shoulder, her smirk returning. "Should I leave?"

You hesitated, biting your lip.

"I don’t want to do anything without your will," she said softly, her tone suddenly serious. "Or is that just what you’re used to with him?"

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you exhaled shakily. "I’ll be fine."

She stepped closer again, slower this time, giving you every chance to back away. When you didn’t, her hands found your lower back, slowly rising her fingers up them giving you a shivering sensation.

"You sure about that?" she murmured, her lips ghosting against your jawline.

You nodded, breathless.

You feel her fingers rise up your back and stop at your shoulder blands and move all of your hair into one side of your neck.

Kissing the bare side, the first press of her lips against your neck sent a shiver down your spine. Her touch was firm but careful, her hands sliding up your sides as she guided you back against ger own body.

The mirror behind you reflected the scene, your flushed cheeks and parted lips as she kissed a path from your collarbone to your ear.

She stops and goes back to your shoulder licking up two your ear. You shudder and giggle “that tickles” you laugh. She smirks at you and tears your underwear off of you like it was nothing too her. You gasp at the sudden breeze you felt down there.

"You’ve been holding back," she whispered, her voice low and teasing. "Let go for once."

Her hands roamed with deliberate slowness, brushing over the curve of your waist, the bare skin of your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

You felt yourself melt into her touch, a heat pooling low in your stomach as her lips claimed yours. It was nothing like the impersonal, mechanical kisses you were used to. This was something else—hungry, deliberate, and electric.

When she finally pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, her breathing uneven. "Tell me to stop, and I will," she said, her hands still cradling your waist.

You shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper. "Don’t."

Her smirk returned as her lips found yours again, her hands lifting you onto the counter, with you leaning on your elbows back looking at her in a haze.

She slowly slides her left hand up your thigh making your legs split making room for her. Then she gets between your legs kissing your chest.

Your dress is barley holding your nipples in. While making eye contact she licks them through the fabric which gets a whining reaction from you.

She proceeds to kiss all over your abdomen. She pauses and pull down your dress from the top- only your boobs getting exposed, grabbing your waist she keeps kissing your chest.

The stops for a moment “take these things off” she says tugging at your heeels” you kick them off. With them landing the floor with a loud clank.

She goes down slowly making contact with your clit, licking a fat stripe from the bottom up, leaving your shivering. She proceeds to continue licking, and you cannot control yourself whatsoever. Your moans are echoing out in the bathroom. Your neck and shoulder start to get stiff from leaning against your elbows on your back, she looks up and sees your dazed look and your lips split apart.

Your close but she stops and says “almost got to carried away with myself.” She flips you over to your stomach still laying on the counter top a much more comfortable position still licking you from the back and she stops and pulls you up, and proceeds to walk backwards untill her back hits the wall behind her.

She has her leg in between your thighs. You practically sitting on her you say “I can barely touch the floor with my legs”, “I’ll hold you up”

She puts her hand between your thighs and start rubbing your clit in a circular motion making your posture hunch against her and whining her name out.

She sticks two fingers in your hole while your legs are still spread apart for her. Your expression is beautiful, the way her name is falling from your mouth like a prayer. The way your eyes can barely be kept open.

She sees your getting close and she stops and pushes you against the wall you looked at her confused on to why she keeps teasing you like this so you say “You started this. Now be good and finish.”

she pushes her legs up in between your again lifting you off the ground and replies “I sure am” she continues with her fingers inside of your thrusting in and out.

You could feel your self about to give out. You hunch yourself over her shoulder and try to make out the words “fuck I-im comi” you can’t. You just keep breathing heavy and arching your back off the wall she had you pressed up against.

Suddenly the rush you felt was indescribable. Your back left the wall and you shuddered with pleasure and pain. You hold onto her shoulders trying to gain back your strength again.

You let go and get off of her. You don’t say anything to her, sort of embarrassed you enjoyed that more than you’d like to admit. You walk over back to the mirror and you start fixing your hair and you ask her

“What about you then?” “Pardon?” She replies “You didn’t come. What’s your pleasure.” You say to her thinking your stating the obvious. Then she replies “to feel your shivering body beneath me is a unique kind of pleasure.”

You roll your eyes and snap back say “pervert” in a joking away, she puts her hands up in the air and shrugs “you liked it. I don’t care about the rest of it” she says with a smirk. You roll your eyes and snap at her to get out and she says “as you please” as a joke she says to you “what you don’t need help dressing?” You roll your eyes and flip her off. She laughs and leaves locking the door for you.

Later, as you returned to the table, your boyfriend looked up briefly.

"That took a while," he remarked, his tone indifferent.

You shrugged, sitting down as his hand found your thigh. The contact made your skin crawl, and you shoved his hand away.

"What’s your problem?" he asked, annoyed.

You stood abruptly. "I’m leaving."

"At least take money for a cab," he said, tossing a few bills on the table.

Outside, the cold air stung your cheeks as you flagged down a cab. The door opened before you could reach for it, and there she was, leaning back in the seat with that familiar smirk.

"You ruined my night," you said, though there was no real venom in your voice.

She raised an eyebrow. "Come back to my place. Let me fix it."

You hesitated only for a moment before climbing in, the door shutting with a satisfying click.

[dollbon]

Imagine 🪽

(Happy birthday to me! I hope you like the imagine🪽)

ʚRafe cameron x reader!innocentɞ

You had been begging Rafe to take you to the new coffee shop that opened in downtown Outer Banks for weeks, but he always said the same thing.

"Not now, honey, maybe another day." Rafe told you without taking his eyes off the computer in his office.

You huffed and rolled your eyes, irritated and already tired.

Rafe turned to you and frowned slightly. "Hey! What's up now? You've been huffing and puffing all week, can you stop for a bit?". Rafe turned his focus back to the computer.

You just pouted and crossed your arms, then left his office.You were so bored that you didn't know what else to do, you'd already done so much today and it still felt like the clock hadn't even moved. You threw yourself on the floor of the living room while watching the rain fall outside, and that's when the power went out.

You almost laughed when you heard Rafe's frustrated groan coming from the office, he soon left the office and tried to turn on the light while turning the switch on and off to test it. He huffed in annoyance and then looked at you lying on the floor of the living room.

"What are you doing?". "Nothing!". You replied with a slurred voice of boredom as your curls spread across the floor and a little in your face.

"Hey! How about we leave now!?" You asked excitedly as you sat up and looked at Rafe with Bambi eyes.

"With this rain outside? No way!". Rafe answered you as he huffed and found himself in the doorway of his office.

"Then we can go after the rain stops!" You said smiling excitedly again.

"But I have work.".

Rafe grumbled.

"What if the power isn't back on when the rain stops?"

You stood up now and walked over to him and crossed your arms.

"Do we have a deal?"

You asked while smiling.

"Okay, but if the power is back on by 4:30 and the rain stops, we won't be leaving and you'll be doing the dishes for a week." Rafe held out his hand to you and you shook it.It was already 4:30 pm and the rain had stopped, but the power still hadn't come back on. This was a huge win for you, and you quickly walked to Rafe's office with a big smile.

"Rafey!" You skipped in as you walked over to him.Rafe rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to you, putting the small paperwork aside.

"What?" He held back a smile as he looked at how excited you were

."It's already 4:30 pm! I win!"

You said excitedly as you climbed onto the leather office couch and bounced a little.

"Hey! Get down from there now! You're going to ruin my couch!" Rafe grumbled as he stood up to get you out of there.

"I'm leaving, but you're taking me to the new mall now!" You demanded as you continued to jump.

"Okay, okay, whatever. Now get down!" Rafe grabbed your hips and set you back down on the floor.

"Go get changed, you're not leaving in your pajamas." He grumbled again before walking you to the shared bedroom you shared.

After changing into warmer clothes, you and Rafe left Tanihil and went to Rafe's car.

"Did you put your seatbelt on?"

Rafe asked as he started the car.

"Yes, look, it has a bow!"

You said pointing to the belt that was around your hips.

Rafe rolled his eyes and then said,

"Not that belt, the car's seatbelt."

Rafe flicked you on the forehead before starting to drive.

"And put that belt on already."

You were confused for a second but soon put on your seatbelt and turned your attention to the window.

After a few minutes of driving you finally arrived at the center of Outer Banks, Rafe parked the car and soon after the two of you got out.You got out of the car and went to the driver's side waiting for Rafe to get out.

"Let's go!"

You said excitedly as you watched Rafe get out of the car.

"Why are you so excited? It's just a mall." Rafe grumbled once more as you pulled him along with you.

"Because! Now let's go!"

You pulled him again and he just huffed and grumbled, but secretly found your excitement endearing.

As soon as you entered the mall your eyes lit up and you smiled even more when you saw a coffee maker.

"Can we go there? Please!?"

You gave Rafe your best puppy dog eyes while pouting. Rafe just nodded and walked with you to the coffee shop.

"Since when do you like coffee?"

Rafe asks as he leads you to one of the tables next to the window.

"I don't like coffee, I like sweets, and every coffee shop has sweets!"

You said as you looked at the cake menu.

"I want that one!"

You said pointing to the chocolate cake.

"I don't know why I'm not surprised." Rafe grumbled with a small smile and then ordered the waiter, ordering a piece of cake for you and a coffee for himself.

As you waited for your order, Rafe pulled your chair closer, his smile widening when he saw your slightly surprised reaction.

"What?" You asked as you felt his hands grab your foot.

"Your shoelace is untied." Rafe said and then tied it, then looked at you.

"Why are you surprised, little thing?" Rafe teased you and poked your waist, making you squirm and stick your tongue out at him.

You talked for a few more minutes until your order came, your eyes immediately going to the cake in front of you. Rafe calmly sipped his coffee as you took a bite of your cake, and of course you got a little mess on your face.

"You look like a child eating, you know that?" Rafe said and you just gave him your middle finger, making him let out a rare laugh.

Rafe grabbed a napkin and grabbed your face, then wiped the corners of your mouth and your cheeks, soon after he looked straight into your eyes and pinched your cheeks before letting go.

You grunted in response and continued to eat your cake calmly, once you finished you looked at Rafe again, he was distracted looking at the window while finishing his coffee, you rested your chin on Rafe's shoulder and watched, admiring him absentmindedly.

Rafe turned to face you again taking you out of your thoughts, you smiled at him and hugged his arm. Rafe rolled his eyes again and ruffled your curls slightly.

"Are you done yet?" Rafe asked and you nodded now looking at your empty plate.

"Well then, let's go." You and Rafe got up and went to the cashier, after paying you left the coffee shop. Your eyes immediately lit up when you saw a leopard print scarf in the window of a store.

"Rafe! Rafe! Rafe! Look!" You said excitedly, pointing to the scarf in the window. Rafe looked at where you were pointing and then turned to you.

"Do you want it?" He asked and you immediately perked up.

"Can I?" You asked, a little embarrassed to ask Rafe for things.

"You know you can, girl." Rafe smiled and then put his arm around your shoulders, walking with you into the store.

As soon as you walked in, the first thing you did was look for the scarf you wanted so badly, when you found it, you ran back to Rafe jumping.

"I found it!" You said excitedly as you showed the leopard print silk scarf to Rafe. Rafe took the scarf and looked at it.

"Why do you like these animal print things so much? Especially leopard." Rafe said, handing the scarf back to you. You just smiled and started walking to the register with Rafe.

"It's pretty, that's why I like it." You said, admiring the scarf.

Continued~

((I'll post the second part soon!🫶🏻)

[yourlocalsmutwriter]

Tell me something awful like you are a lover stuck in the body of a racing guy - Fernando Alonso x reader

Summary: phone sex drabble with Alonso I wrote on the train.

Pop music blares through your headphones from your guilty pleasure playlist as you're scrubbing a kitchen counter. The blonde singer's words about hating it here couldn't resonate with you more. Living with strangers was bareable. Them being students and not really sticking to a cleaning schedule was to be expected. You'd committed similar sins before. But texting your landlord to fix your water pressure while the state of the kitchen (and honestly, the whole flat) was abysmal wasn't the smartest. You hated confrontation,so it was on you to bring everything up to the guy's standards. One bit of the shared space took you an hour. You were tired. Unemployed. Done. Cold. Just as you were about to follow your astrology app's suggestion of a good cry, you get a WhatsApp notification from your boyfriend, asking you to call him.

"Hey, Fernando. Everything all right?"you say as his face pops on screen.

"Yeah, I just woke up. Figured I wanted to give you a tour of Sin City, but I think you'll have to wait a bit," he trails off.

"What, not feeling like an early bird, huh? Usually, I'd be the one bugging you to stay in bed with me and cuddle more. What's new, hmm?" you ask, curious as to why he's called you out of the blue.

He just grunts and flips the camera. Your eyes take a second to process what you're seeing. And then you focus on the tent in his boxers. As if intent to kill you both on the spot, he adds, "You know, it's your fault. Had a dream about you, and apparently, even fake you has the same effect as the real thing."

You laugh, just a bit.

"Sorry, sorry, love. Just the thought of you getting a morning boner like some teenager is hilarious." Sensing that he's about to hang up and not wanting to deal with it, there's a plan forming. The good cry you were considering a few moments before was going to be turning into a good wank. "Wait. Let me help you. Please?"

Fernando pretends to consider it for a moment. You both know that phone sex is the key to not loosing one's mind during a triple header.

"Fine." He agrees. "But you gotta put on a real show on for me, beautiful. Wanna see you ride your toy like it's me.".

"It is you,". Nando's reaction to your previous dildo was to replace it as soon as possible. You were flabbergasted that he would go through with cloning his willy, as the kit said, just to stake a stupid claim on you. All your annoyance evaporated the first time you used the new toy and came so hard you questioned every other solo orgasm before. You tell your boyfriend you'd be right back as you swiftly disappear to wash the dildo. Thankfully, no one's around to see you. You prop your phone on the edge of the bed, following Nando's example. His hand is already slowly palming his cock. You're about to spread the lube on your hands, when you realize you're still fully clothed.

"Teasing or quickie?" You ask him.

"You know the quote, honey. As much as I wanna watch you touch yourself and suck it first, on a time crunch here. So, clothes off and giddy up, cowgirl." He says.

You spread the lube on the dildo, matching Fernando's pace. God, the visuals of his cock, ready for you but out of reach was driving you crazy.

"You know what to do, baby. Rub your clit like I would touch you. Don't be cutting corners just because I'm not there to guide you on it properly." He adds.

You loved his more commanding side. Before you two had sex for the first time, he wondered why you'd pick someone his age to date. It became glaring obvious during fucking you, the way you melted against his words, how you begged him to be faster, harder, rougher, to not hold back on you. You depended on him to give you just what other partners often missed to do.

You realized that you were spacing out and returned to the task at hand. Circling your clit, once, twice and thrice and already you're wet and ready. You straddle the toy, making sure Fernando gets a premium view of how the plastic cock sinks inside of you slowly.

He groans and tightens his fist, squeezing it against the base.

"Faster, honey. Show me that I taught you how to take it. Ride it for me." He commands, needing to see you fall apart and soon.

You bite your lip and find your rhythm. Usually, when you used the dildo, it was in missionary. This position was making everything so much more intense for you it was as if you were doing it with the real thing. Speeding up, you could feel the toy going deeper, making you clench against it. You let you a quiet moan of Fernando's name, a plea, and a futile action.

"You look so good like this, my love. God, when I come back, I want to taste you as you play with this. Would you like this? To feel my tongue on your clit as you're fucking yourself on my dick, huh? Sound good, no?". Nando's fantasy reminds you of how his hands will be on you soon, how you'll fall apart on his lips, how he'll make sure to have you coming in exotic destinations, away from everything you hate here. This fuels a fire in you and you're thrusting your hips, the toy slick with your wetness.

Your boyfriend's pumping matches your speed, and you can see how he's rubbing down drops of precum down his shaft.

"Tell me when you're about to cum for me, beautiful. Let's do it together." Less than a minute later you're a moaning mess, pussy clenching against the plastic replica of your lover's cock and saying that you're about to finish. Fernando encourages you to go over the edge, to finish you both off like a good girl. And that's exactly what you do. You wish you could take the shot where he angles his cock and cums all over his stomach and have it burned behind your retinas forever. You're both panting and spent and taking a few minutes before starting your actual post-orgasm rituals and clean up.

"I'll call you again in half an hour, okay? Let me know what you wanna see of Vegas, and I'll have my driver pass it. Think I have the time to even walk into some landmarks and get you whatever souvenirs what you want. Plan and let me know. I love you, sweetheart." He says. Underneath the tough exterior and the sometimes arrogant facade was a gentle, wonderful boyfriend. Maybe you didn't really hate it here. And just maybe he was a lover, stuck in the body of a racing guy.

[ghostsandguns]

The first time he mentions it, he says it so casually over dinner that it takes you a moment to register. "Wait, what did you just say??" "I said, I want to fuck your ass" he repeats, completely unfazed. After that conversation, he never mentions it again in true Simon fashion—never one to pressure you. Still, the thought lingers on your mind. You can’t stop thinking about his big rough hands spreading your cheeks while he plunges his cock into your tight virgin hole, inch by inch.

By the time he returns from deployment, you're fully prepared, having experimented with a variety of toys to get yourself ready. And boy, oh boy, is Simon surprised when he catches sight of that pretty pink diamond sitting snugly in place. That night he doesn't whisper sweet, soft words as he makes love to you. No, he fucks you hard and rough from behind. Gripping your hair at the base, using it to pull you back with each thrust. After the fifth time, you lose count of how many times you've come. He's so big that it makes you feel impossibly full, barely able to breath.

Simon, of course, is like a damn beast, going on and on, until you desperately beg him to release his seed inside you. Hearing you say that stirs a deep desire in him to breed you, even if you both know it doesn't work that way. Nonetheless, he starts grunting as he's close to coming. "You can take it darling. Fuck- keep clenching like that" As he reaches his peak, he settles deep inside you, as you finally allow yourself to pass out from exhaustion.