#and I’m telling you HOW and WHY and WHO hurt me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ririabeam · 2 days ago

Text

𝗕𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗵𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗗𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

—

I drew this to cope with my birthday depression.

Took 5 months. I also wanted to beat my old manhwa from 5 years ago.

-- Long post ahead! It's my WIPS and thought process. --

Junko is my comfort character as she's the only character I know who hates her birthday.

(Screenshot from Ultimate Talent Development Plan)

I know she’s a villain who has done a lot of bad things, but finding comfort and liking her doesn’t mean I excuse her actions.

A lot of painful feelings went into this, even in Mukuro's perspective so please respect it 🙏🏻

—

- WIPS & Thought Process -

—

Story Script Writing:

A lot of thoughts and feelings went into my script.

-I removed sentences like “For giving me cake!” as I wanted to do more showing than telling.

-“Why do you seem so happy Mukuro?” is changed to “Why are you smiling like that, Mukuro?” as I wanted the sentence to focus more on the thing Ryoko noticed. Mukuro would definitely be happy celebrating Ryoko’s birthday, and the new sentence would help to understand how Ryoko interpreted that Mukuro was more happy than usual.

-“good day” is changed to “great day” for greater emphasis of Ryoko’s happiness.

-A pun is done on “live”, I wanted this sentence to convey the complicated feelings of Junko. She doesn’t want to “live” a “fabricated happy lie” as it goes against her honesty moral. But there’s also a part of her that doesn’t want to kill Ryoko, as she doesn’t want to “leave” this “fabricated happy lie”. She wants to be happy as Ryoko, even if it’s a lie.

This part is a big reference and a reply to Danganronpa Zero.

The background texts are quotes from Danganronpa Zero.

Junko saying “What the hell? Hope?” is a reference to Danganronpa Zero’s ending:

Reading Danganronpa Zero feels like it’s saying something to me: “We are trapped in a loop of despair and hope.” and I’m replying with this part as a “Yes, I agree.”

Junko being confined in her mind is another thing I like about her too.

I feel the moment we are born, we are trapped, that’s why I ended this comic with “I wish I wasn’t born.”

The moment I’m born, I’m unwanted and worthless, a monster.

I’m trapped in my mind, in other people’s judgements and expectations, and there’s no way out.

I can’t just turn invisible and there’s always something for people to judge and hate. And that hurts when it’s something important to you or you can’t change about yourself.

But even with all the pain, I think of hope to carry on and it’s a loop to fight to live.

I think I make progress with healing but then I’d think wth I’m made to work on this. Cause my life is already scripted from the moment I was born— I’m scripted to have this trauma, this story made my personality and character so in the end I’m still trapped.

So that’s another reason why I find Junko a comforting character and why I feel birthday depression.

I thought of the story first before I thought of the characters who would play it, so I had to make sure it’s in character.

Things like if Mukuro would say “AU” or “Alternate Universe”. I felt since she spent a lot of time with Junko who knows a lot about these things, she would have heard of this and know the short form term for it. Especially since she had to be Junko at some point.

Since it’s a story about Birthday Depression, my thoughts instantly went to Junko then to Mukuro. It was the perfect story theme to write for them especially cause they are the despair sisters.

Plus, they are two characters I can feel their struggles and feelings deeply for, so I can write and draw deeply for this story.

Birthdays tend to be happy, and I felt the only kinda right time I can talk about my birthday depression would be on their day.

I felt suffocated and lost myself over the past few years, as I felt I needed to be happy no matter what. When I opened up about sadness and my struggles, people would hate and invalidate me for it. I feel my art reflects that, I don’t like looking back at my old art. It lacked my true feelings, but I feel I’m finding myself again in my Mirai Nikki and Danganronpa art.

For the past few years I tried to celebrate my birthday to try to make myself happy about it but in the long run it didn’t work. I appreciate everyone who celebrated with me all these years still, but now I’m trying to overcome it in another way— facing despair instead of trying to cover it with hope.

I think I’ve learnt a lot about myself and understood myself better through this comic’s process.

Layout Plan:

You can see that things were changed in the final from my layout plan X’D haha

In page 2, Mukuro’s 1st panel is changed so composition is better.

In page 3, after seeing Ryoko as Junko, Mukuro is reaching out her hand instead of placing it on her chest. I wanted it to feel like Mukuro wants to reach out to Ryoko at that moment, like trying to get a wish she knows isn’t real.

In page 5, binary code is replaced with texts from Danganronpa Zero’s story so it reinforces the idea of “a life already fully planned out”.

Lining Process:

I struggled with this part the most as anatomy and poses is not my strong point.

I asked my friend, Setsuya, for help with my poses and redrew the same pose many times for this comic. I really wanted to convey the feelings for this comic right especially since it’s very personal to me. Big thanks to her for helping me so much, I feel I improved a lot from this! 🥺 <3

1st panel of 1st page is the hardest to draw, I’m laughing at my first try of Mukuro who looks like she’s forced to be there 😂:

With suggestions from my friend of how to improve, I tried to improve everyone’s poses:

Mukuro’s pose was changed to look more fondly at Ryoko, happy to be there and relaxed haha.

Ryoko’s pose was changed to look more delighted and happy about the cake (Which helps to convey the line I removed from my script, “For giving me cake!”)

Matsuda’s pose was changed to look a bit more annoyed about still cares for Ryoko (shown by him still looking at her from the corner of his eyes even though his head is turned away)

And haha I forgot Ryoko’s legs can be seen due to the table frills being transparent, so I had to go back and draw her legs X’D

For this panel, a lot of thoughts went into what things I should place, how they are placed, and what kind of items it should be e.g.

I wanted it to tell the story of what happened before all the characters gathered here, what their feelings are towards each other, and how they are like as individual characters :3

I was thinking Mukuro and Matsuda love Ryoko so much they spoil her by buying a giant cake haha X’D So that’s why there’s a plastic knife instead of a real knife— to show that the cake was bought.

I think they decided not to cook as they would fight about it… (idk if they know how to cook tbh)

I chose strawberry shortcake cause white = purity and red strawberries = blood X’D Kinda like Ryoko-

I was about to draw neatly cut and placed cakes but I think... Ryoko is bad at cutting… X’D so the cakes are lying flat with the cream a bit splattered on their plates.

The table cloth, spoons and plates are all elegant and neat cause Mukuro prepared it for Ryoko :3 I don’t think Matsuda would be able to do that since he seems to not be a tidy person X’D but I do think he probably decided these items and arrangement with Mukuro :3

Here’s a random joke Matsuda + My roughly drawn Promised Neverland manga cover before I squeezed it on to his book haha:

I was going to make Matsuda read Megaman at first like in canon, but I felt making him read “Promised Neverland” was fitting as it helped me bring some foreboding to my happy setting. Like the promise never landed cause I’m going to break my happy promise/premise X’D

I felt it was fitting too as Matsuda wasn’t met with a good fate like the Promised Neverland children.

Plus I feel Matsuda would like a genre like that, or perhaps he wouldn’t mind anything as he is a laid back character.

This pose was changed so Ryoko would look more reserved and have less of a romantic vibe? Cause the intertwined fingers felt a bit more romantic and off to me, as it wasn’t the vibe I was going for.

Feat. The paper sketch is my friend helping me with anatomy X’)

While writing sentences and drawing for Mukuro’s scenes, I was thinking of experiences I’ve gone through before and the feelings I felt then.

The way I wished things could be different. I kept having dreams of happy endings I wanted to happen but then I would wake up to the tragic reality and cry.

The way I was suffering on the inside but still held on to this thing I perceived as “Hope” even though it was killing me and could be seen as “Despair” in another POV/or I already knew it was bad for me but it was also my only hope.

Symbolisms for this panel:

Carrying a candle-> holding on to hope/a wish.

Candle not blown out -> Mukuro's wish didn't come true (blowing out a candle means bringing your wish on smoke to the good spirits above to grant your wish) , her hoping leading to despair.

My pose was changed here as it is more natural for the hands to be like that, plus the other hand holding on to the arm greater empathise how Mukuro is holding on strongly to this candle.

The candle is melting and the wax is getting on her hand, burning her. Still, she refuses to let go which empathises how much she needs to hold on to this. Even as she grabs her own hand causing more pain from bleeding, she still needs this “hope.”

Some colour tests for this panel:

I was considering blue fire because blue fire is stronger than red.... but then if it is a wish of hope, I was considering yellow too... but maybe it would be too happy?

Mukuro is feeling sad and wishful in this panel.

I ended up going for blue fire which gives off yellow light for a purposeful contradictory colouring— to show that what is perceived as despair can also be perceived as hope.

^ Some exploration for the poses here so I can figure out which conveys what I wanted to convey the best. I like the poses where Mukuro is reserved happy, Ryoko is more playful(?), Matsuda is more relaxed.

^ Exploration for the Junko slash pose. Ended up just going back to the original pose I had planned for the layout.

I found this super hard to draw as I’m not good at anatomy, drew it quite a few times and deleted as I couldn’t draw it right. In the end, my friend drew that pose reference which helped me get it right in final!

Reasons why I chose the original layout pose in the end:

Strangle pose-> I don't want to strangle Ryoko, not because it’s too violent or graphic or that she's 🥺uwu and I can’t kill her-

I just feel Junko doesn’t completely hate Ryoko... a part of her wants to live a happy life after all

But she can’t, that's why the words "A fabricated happy lie, I don’t want to live this!"

It's a lie and it's against her value (honesty).

Sword slashing pose-> Junko is directly jumping towards and has no hesitation slashing Ryoko. This feels off cause it’s too violent which doesn’t convey the message I want.

Sword is also stronger than knife, which would hurt more.

When I see the knife and how the body is twisted a bit away in the original layout pose, it works better as I can see some control to the slash so it's not full on hatred and anger towards Ryoko.

Random full drawing of this Junko before I cut it off for composition.

I find it easier to get the anatomy right if I draw the full thing and draw through everything.

^ I’m super sad at my failure for this :,) I didn’t intend it to be like that 😭

It’s too hard for me to draw, so my friend helped me again and I chose a pose and studied her pose and drew the whole pose again:

I chose the 1st pose because the angle of the faces there best shows both character’s facial expressions and the emotions are the most important for this scene.

Plus 3/4 angle is better than the flat side view one as it helps make this scene more dramatic!

My friend helped me with the position of Junko’s tie:

reached max images for this post so,

WIPS continued in another post

#ryoko otonashi #junko enoshima #mukuro ikusaba #danganronpa zero #dr0 #yasuke matsuda #danganronpa fanart #my content

94 notes · View notes

pippin-katz · 2 days ago

Text

Voices We Don’t Hear

I was thinking about the scene in the cell down in Hell and wondering why it makes my heart clench so much even after having watched it so many times at this point, and I figured it out! It also led me noticing something in another scene that sticks out when it shows up. It’s the scene in the forest with Edwin and the Cat King.

It’s two lines of dialogue that I’m referring to: “This is all you are. Do you understand?” - Edwin from Ep. 6 “Hey, hey… let’s get you out of here.” - Charles from Ep. 7

These two lines have rare emotional tones for each of them. That sentence is a really bad way to say it, but I'll try to explain it.

We don't hear Charles speak in a soft voice often. He whispers down there in Hell and in Esther's kitchen, but I can't think of any other moments where Charles actually whispers. And there's something different about his voice in that line specifically. Because even though he's whispering, his voice is very clear and not breathy. With full whispering, the person's voice gets mostly obscured by that weird static-like/screen-filter that comes from talking that quietly, like Edwin's voice. (I have no idea how to describe what I'm talking about, but hopefully that's enough for you to understand lol)

So, even when Charles is speaking softly, it's not as quietly as he can. That line in particular is right after Edwin tells him what the demon does to him, and it's softer than all the others. And it's obvious why.

This is without a doubt the first time Charles has ever seen him like this: crying, small, scared, and so unlike himself. It's already heartbreaking. Then Edwin tells him about his torture, and he breaks down crying after managing to keep his most of his composure before.

If you look closely, Charles blinks a few times fast before he turns and cups Edwin's face. It's so dark and the lighting is so strange, but his eyes are shinier than they were previously. He forces himself to keep his focus on the task and being strong for Edwin, but he looks like he wants to cry.

Then he says that line so gently, so delicately while looking directly into his eyes while he holds his head between his hands. Charles voice is softer and a tiny bit strained from keeping his emotions in check.

It's the softest, most loving, and gentle moment of Charles in the entire show.

On the flipside, the line Edwin says to the Cat King is similar. Edwin definitely gets angry, frustrated, etc. and shouts and yells. But all of the people he yells at are people he has personal connections with, and the root of his distress comes from himself.

He yells at Crystal because he's having an anxiety attack after all the rapid changes to their routine, and bickers back and forth with her, but it's never truly malicious. He’s angry, but more importantly, he’s hurt. Crystal’s seeming lack of understanding of the weight of the importance is reminding him of how little people care. He snaps at Simon in Hell, but within minutes he calms down, recognizing how genuinely remorseful and ignorant Simon had been. He yells at Charles in a sort of angry-loving way on the staircase in Hell; he's not actually angry with him.

But in the forest, Edwin finds out that the boy he's been seeing and making friends with has been the familiar of the witch who wants to destroy them in disguise, and was pretending for at least some of their relationship. He also learns of all this because the Cat King exposes him rather than Monty confessing. He's hurt and angry, and then the Cat King pulls the "you owe me card" to try and get Edwin to kiss him even after all of the times he's rejected him.

He tells him off and goes to leave, but the comment the Cat King makes about dismissing him makes him turn around immediately. The way Edwin gets close to him, invading his space like he's done to him multiple times, and shoves the bracelet in front of his face.

There's real venom in his voice when he says the line. It's rough, gravelly, and it's obvious that Edwin has truly run out of patience for the Cat King's antics.

It is truly the angriest we see him in the show, at least from a standpoint of genuine anger toward someone he considers an adversary of some kind.

Edwin has no real relationship with the Cat King; he's basically his warden, the person who has trapped him in this town, and then treats him like he owns him. Given that it was a matter of diplomacy and caused by an error he made, he allowed the Cat King to have his fun to some extent, but in that forest, when he's just found out his new friend is actually a crow and there's a massive, ghost-eating mushroom monster threatening his and Charles' existence, he could not give less of a fuck about playing nice. He's frustrated and upset and stressed about so many different things all at once, and then this smug cat guy, who seems to think they're something more than a captor and his captive, has the audacity to say that Edwin owes him? Yeah, bye bitch! He is done.

I want to hear more of both of these versions of the two of them. I want to hear Edwin rip into an enemy, voice dripping with malice. I want to hear Charles comfort and reassure him (or anyone, but preferably Edwin) with that soft voice that is cherishing and gentle, treating him like something delicate that deserves to be handled with care after the universe has quite literally ripped him apart and crushed him.

(ko-fi)

#dead boy detectives #save dead boy detectives #renew dead boy detectives #revive dead boy detectives #rambles: dead boy detectives #charles rowland #edwin payne #payneland

106 notes · View notes

scripts4dreamers · 3 days ago

Text

Me and my one (1) friend who has also had their brain corrupted by the blight (dragon age) have been fighting about this for two days but I’m so sure I’m right, so I humbly present my thesis to you lovely people.

1. After the events of the Veilguard, if Rook and Neve ended up together, Neve tries to leave you.

LET ME EXPLAIN! (Spoilers for the Veilguard ending)

I love Neve. She’s my favorite romance from Veilguard, she’s an incredible character and she does not deserve all the hate she gets. Having said that, she does 1000% try and leave Rook.

The one thing we know about Neve, almost from the moment we meet her, is that she is not a believer. She doesn’t believe Solas is a god, at first, she doesn’t believe anyone will have her back, she doesn’t believe Minrathous will improve and she doesn’t believe she’s going to survive this job. But still she fights on, not out of a genuine belief that she can win, but because she has a soft spot for lost causes.

Neve has devoted her life to being the champion of lost causes. She tells Rook that, even if this job doesn’t get her, one of them will. She risks her life, day in and day out, in service of a city that has done nothing but hurt her. Neve believes she’s a dead woman walking, and all she wants to do is go down protecting the people of Dock Town because someone has to. Someone has to.

And then she meets Rook and Harding and now gods are real, and they’re destroying the world and oh well everything was always going to go down in flames, so why not help out? She’s always been a magnet for bad news, for bad luck, for the worst of humanity, so why not spend her last days fighting for what little good is left?

She tries to fight falling for Rook, but they’re everything she wishes the world could be. They’re the lifeline she’s been waiting for since before the world forced her to stop believing. They’re good and kind and full of life and how can she do anything but love them for that? But she’s already dead, they’re both already dead and she can’t survive another loss.

She throws herself into loving them only after she lost them to the Fade. Only after Harding/Davrin died. After her world already ended, because that’s when she really realizes how quickly it can all end and how much time she wasted pushing people away. The goddamn WORLD IS ENDING and the person you love is THERE and they’re REAL and they WANT YOU, so why not? What is there to lose? It’s easy to love someone when the world is ending. It’s easy to love someone when you’re both already doomed.

But then the world doesn’t end. The sun rises on a blighted Minrathous and they’re both still alive, and now she’s faced with rebuilding. There’s so much work to be done, she’s a bloody, scarred mess and the job she was brought in for is over, isn’t it? She’s not a cool noir detective who died saving the world anymore, she’s someone’s partner, someone’s friend and lover and those aren’t jobs she had ever prepared herself to take.

Suddenly, without the haze of panic and the urgency of stopping the gods, things look different. She needs a new apartment. Minrathous needs a detective. Life goes back to normal and Neve still isn’t a believer.

Of course, everyone says they’ll stay in touch. Bonds formed that can never be broken and all that, but Neve knows better. You don’t hang around once the party is over. You don’t give the world more ways to hurt you, more people to take. You don’t give people a chance to leave you.

So she leaves first.

She regrets it. She hates herself for it. She cries herself to sleep wondering how she could be such a coward, but she leaves. She packs a bag, writes a goodbye letter and leaves before morning.

Now, do I think her and Rook get back together? Absolutely I do. I just think that, with all the events of Veilguard happening in such a short time, there’s going to be some major questions for all the companions once the dust settles, and leaving before you can be left is Neve Gallus’ answer to those questions.

#dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #datv #datv spoilers #neve gallus #neve x rook #rookallus #dragon age opinion

123 notes · View notes

yuckiemouth · 24 hours ago

Note

help a girly out here and teach me how to masturbate step by step pls

TMI/OPEN THOUGHTS

Let’s see… I haven’t masturbated in a while because I be busy and my sleep schedule is actually giving me justice, but when I use to stay up, I’ll tell you what I did step by step… man I feel like a teacher 😭

1. PRIVACY

this is obvious, but some idiots get caught, so yeah if you’re able to, LOCK your door, me in a strict house hold, I don’t even have locks, but I never got caught either. So if you don’t have locks on your door or unable to even close it (cuz some parents be doing that), go to the bathroom or better yet, wait til everyone sleep.

If you’re a moaner, pillow rider, vibrator user, dildo user, turn your TV UP!!! Even if you don’t moan, big mama makes SQUELCHING noises, I’m talkin she be wet, so you don’t want no one walking past and be like “WTH?”

2. GET AROUSED.

mindlessly masturbating is such a waste, so I say really set the mood. Turn off the lights or dim them, or better yet LED lights. Optional if you wanna wear sum sexy. To get aroused properly, watch something that you’re attracted to, whether its lesbians, straight sex, BBC, roleplay, etc. whatever that ain’t my business, but if you aren’t able to (say if your parents took your device or your internet is just trash.) USE YOUR IMAGINATION. While imagining whatever you fantasize, caress your inner thighs, knead or suck your own tits, suck your fingers, slowly rub your clit through your underwear, etc.

3. HOW TO MASTURBATE 101 🤓

I ain’t no fingering ass bitch cuz I don’t feel a fuck thing so… As WOMEN, we should know where the clit is (I hope cuz if not where tf have you been?) anyway…. Depending on your anatomy, your clit has a hood (heavy skin) because it’s so fucking sensitive bro. I found out people don’t be feeling nun when they rub big mama is because y’all ain’t pulling the hood up, the mf ain’t cold, take the hood off!! BUT I MUST WARN YOU. Don’t rub yourself too hard because it could be hurtful and could possibly lose feeling on your clitoris, so if you’re rough with your fingers or overly sensitive, keep the hood over it, but if you’re not, PULL IT UP.

Now using your MIDDLE and RING fingers, it’s different strokes people use. The most commonly used one is circulating around it and rubbing side to side. But I’ll tell a little secret.

The way I get off involves 3 techniques.

First, I start off slow, controlled, and even roll my hips with it. Now after some time, I’m aroused, using my arousal as lube y’all hear me out… then i stimulate more by going faster, but soft on the touch. Once I feel like I’m ready, I press harder and go all out, then GOT YA! I’m a edger! I stop when I’m about to cum and slap it a bit to keep her stimulated. Yeah, yeah I know, I get mad TOO when I feel my high go down, but repeating it like 4 times, best nut you’ll experience.

So I circulate, go side to side, and spank her cuz why not. When I’m real horny and feeling rushed, it takes me 10 minutes, but if I have time, 30+.

4. HOW TO CLEAN UP

Now…. Me, this is from experience, I be all over the place. So I go to the bathroom, flush away that water weight, wash my hands and if you’re a squirter (which im not), girl you should already have a towel under you cuz who feel like changing sheets tbh… and NEVER masturbate with underwear, take them off before you even start.

Now people hate talking about it, but YES, masturbating has a smell and you probably won’t smell it because you’re the one doing it, but if another person walk in, they will smell a musky scent SIMPLY because your vagina is an open ORGAN closed with thighs, and you know what creates that? Heat! And you know what heat creates on your body? Sweat. And what SHOULD sweat smell like (since y’all be dirty a lil). MUSK. So to eliminate that smell around the whole room, keep your lower half under covers, use a candle, spray air freshener, keep the air on, inscents or whatever those are called. WHATEVER JUST BLOCK OUT THE SMELL.

And that’s all I got tbh….

138 notes · View notes

islandofthedollz · 3 days ago

Text

❤︎Jimmy’s voicemail ❤︎

⁠❥TW implied Rape, blood, implied blackmail

❥ You’re Ex boyfriend Jimmy leaves you voice mail.

“Hey (Y/N). Thought I’d call you. This is probably the, what? Probably the 16th voicemail I’ve left you.”

“I know that one time you answered… and you said… what’d you say? You said that you’d call the police or something? File a restraining order? One of those. I don’t really remember. My memory has been weird these days, maybe it’s the alcohol, but um… I just wanna tell you some things.

I wished you would’ve just picked up the phone… the last time I heard your voice I was hard for hours. I’m gonna have to start recording your voice now. It’s embarrassing, but I’m having trouble getting it up without you.”

“Did you get the poem I sent you it reminded me of you? I’m sure you have, I mean, you’re fucking obsessed with me like I’m of you. I saw a poetry book… I saw it in your apartment that time I fucked you. I know you try to pretend like you’re not obsessed but trust me, I know. Fuck, you’re the prettiest girl there is.”

“My favorite line of the entire thing is when I talk about- when I talk about taking your heart out and ripping my chest open and putting your heart inside me…”

“If you had no heart, you wouldn’t be able to love at anyone else, would you? You’d stop making me so fucking jealous. You love making me jealous, don’t you? You..like playing hard to get. You like it when I’m jealous, want me to fuck you when I’m jealous. You’d like that wouldn’t you?

Fucking you with my cock until you’re crying? Little crybaby, acting like she doesn’t want to, like she doesn't want it.”

“I’m gonna get you one day, you know… one day. I’ll cut your fingers open and collect your blood… wear it around my neck and you’ll wear mine so everyone knows you’re mine. You’re already mine, just no one seems to know it yet. It pisses me off… I want you so fucking bad, baby.

You have no clue. I think about you all the time; all my poems are about you, you know I read them to curly he says say it’s nice that I found another hobby that isn’t weightlifting don’t you agree?”

“you know my favorite one is… where I wrote about how I want to hold your hand and kiss you. About how I just want to be with you, you know? But, um, the dirty ones are especially about you.”

Jimmy chuckles there’s a pause he sighs.

“Listen, I don’t really know what I did for this kind of treatment, babe. I’m starting to get a bit impatient. You don’t respond to my messages, my calls… you’re starting to hurt my feelings. Do you realize how that I die a little bit on the inside when you don’t call me back?”

“But you just love to play hard to get… fucking ignoring me. Hell, I even asked you out and you said no. Do you… do you realize my love for you? Do you realize who the fuck you said no to?

I love you so much it hurts I don’t care who gets in the way of out love. No one is gonna separate us. I’m always watching you. You need me as much as I need you. I know you want me, you’re just teasing me.”

“But you… you know I love it when you tease. Told you that myself, huh? All those times I teased my cock with your cunt… you liked it too, I remember. Yeah, you may have been drunk but you were moaning like a whore.

They say even in your drunkest state you’re honest. if You were moaning, you came so many times, remember? Came all over my cock. You said- you said in your little voice ah, Jimmy , harder! Remember?”

“I was a good fuck wasn’t I? You were saying I was a bit rough and you mentioned how you thought you were bleeding. I mean, if that’s what you’re into. I don’t mind a kinky girl.

I’d prefer one, actually. Maybe that’s why I love you so much we’re so alike. You wanna be my slut, do you? Hm…”

“It would be a shame if your family found out… they’d probably never talk to you. All your dirty little secrets brought to light, and yeah, I know you have secrets. If you don’t want those to come out, you better fucking call me back. You have my number.

70 notes · View notes

schlatt-love-bot · 2 days ago

Text

Shy Schlatt x Reader Headcanon

First time meeting edition!

To everyone else, Schlatt appears to be a large grumpy man, intimidating those around him

He didn’t necessarily help this narrative when he openly picked on his friends around other people, and generally had a brooding attitude when he was in public

This all seemed to melt away the moment he laid eyes on you, though

Smaller in statue, you would’ve fit perfectly in his side, tucked away under his arm, which kicked in his primal urge to become your protector

He noticed you during a Chuckle Week shoot, vaguely remembering how Ted mentioned that a college friend of his would be helping set up shots and other things during filming this week

He barely listened as Ted explained who you were, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, watching as you untangled some cords from Ted’s backpack

Apparently Ted called you over, as Schlatt barely noticed you talking as you introduced yourself, sticking out your hand to shake, looking up at him confused as to why you weren’t shaking his hand

“I..I take it you’re not a hand-shaking greeter?”

“O-Oh, uh…sorry toots, it’s not that I’m not a hand-shaker, I was just…lost in some, uh, thoughts. The name’s Schlatt, nice t’ meet ya.”

You giggled at the encounter and walked away, while Ted let out an exasperated sigh

“This is going to be a loooong filming week if you keep up that act, Schlatt.”

Schlatt grumbled and playfully smacked Ted, telling him to shut up among…other choice words

…ultimately, though, Ted was right. This was indeed the longest week of recording Schlatt had ever done, and it was all due to the pretty little dame behind the camera

Schlatt noticed when you would tune out of the conversation being had between him, Ted, and their guest, which is when Schlatt would become increasingly grumpier, even borderline aggressive at times

If you were listening, though? That man tried his hardest to act cool, but ultimately stumbled over his words and showed a bit too much of his softness

“Schlatt…buddy, my eyes are over here…” Connor, this episode’s guest, began to tease, causing heat to rise in Schlatt’s cheeks as he sent eye daggers in Connor’s direction

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Maybe if you were actually talking about anything interesting, I’d be a better listener! Ever think of that?”

He heard your stifled giggle coming from behind the camera and in turn beamed with pride

At the end of the week, Schlatt grew grumpier and grumpier, knowing he would have to leave behind this pretty little thing to go back to New York, and Ted could sense it

“Yknow, if you want to leave with a good taste of LA on your tongue…(Y/N)’s totally into you, too. How? I’m not sure. I don’t know why anything with two legs and a pulse would want to go out with you, but she mentioned in passing the other day how ridiculously sexy she thought you were. Go for it, man!”

Annoyed by Ted’s implications, his ears still perked at the thought of you finding him attractive, so back into the studio he went

He caught you while you were packing away some of the set props, trying to balance yourself on the seats to collect as many Sriracha and A1 bottles you could manage before you began to lose your balance

“Woah...you gotta be more careful there, toots. Don’t want you to go hurting yourself, now. Can I…can I help you?”

The way he held you in his arms made your heart stop, and your lack of response made him think you thought he was being a creep by holding you for so long

He quickly placed you back down onto the ground, clearing his throat, before pulling at the hem of his shirt looking for the words he wanted to say

“So…I…uh, my flight outta here doesn’t leave until tomorrow night so…I was thinkin’...maybe you would wanna, I dunno, grab a bite to eat tonight?”

He refused to make eye contact with you, one hand snaking around his neck, making you giggle

“Sir…are you asking me on a date?”

“You said it, not me…”

“Well…”

“Okay fine, it’s a date. Will you?”

“Absolutely.”

"Cool, awesome. Here's my number, I'll...uh...pick you up at 5?"

"Sounds perfect, Schlatt."

He didn't want to show just how excited he was about it, (but he totally did) but he was absolutely geeked that he got a chance at a date

You might've caught him giving himself a little pat on the back as he exited the studio, not thinking you were paying any mind to him

ooooohhh!! i just love the idea of a softie schlatt!! i feel he's not portrayed as a softie or as shy very often, so i figured why not try my hand at it!! hopefully you all enjoyed!!

#schlatt #jschlatt x you #jschlatt #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x you #schlatt fic #schlatt fanfic #jschlatt fic #jschlatt fanfic

93 notes · View notes

softestqueeen · 1 day ago

Text

just a kiss

pairing: aaron hotchner x afab!reader

summary: a kiss under the mistletoe with a certain casanova makes your boyfriend, aaron hotchner, question himself.

warnings: 18+ MDNI!! smut, p in v, fingering, jealous!hotch, hurt/comfort, jealousy fucking, slight breeding (i’m just a girl guys), unprotected sex (guys, don’t do that)

wordcount: 1990 words

a/n: better late than never guys, i really wanted to write something for christmas! I’m thinking about writing something short for spencer as well, but i don’t know how much time i will have. But anyways, merry christmas to those who celebrate! enjoy <3

“Oh oh, a mistletoe. You know what that’s means mama, come here and give me a kiss,” your good friend and colleague Derek was already rubbing his hands together before holding them out to you.

You decided to humor him, taking a step closer to him, definitely not expecting him to pull you in and tip you back. Letting out a surprised squeak, you tell Garcia, who was watching the spectacle with wide and curious eyes. “Don’t look Penelope, you don’t wanna see this.”

It was the last thing you said before Derek pressed his lips to you, pulling away with a loud smooch. He lifts you back on your feet again and lets out a laugh, quickly matched by your own laughter.

He gently pats your hip before leaving to join the others in their festive activities around Rossi’s mansion. Garcia immediately lets out an excited squeal which you only answer with a dismissive wave of your hand before following Derek into the heart of the party.

You don’t mind the kiss anymore, until you are alone with your boyfriend Aaron Hotchner. He was standing by the fridge, beer in hand and a frown adorning his handsome face.

Looking around to see if anybody was nearby, you step closer to him, going in for a kiss, which he tried to avert by moving his head. He gives you a tight lip smile before quickly leaving the kitchen, leaving you with a heavy heart and even more confusion.

Why was he acting so weird all of the sudden? Did you do something wrong the last time you saw each other? Yes, your relationship was secret, but you both agreed to keeping it from the team. So, what was wrong?

Following a harmless Christmas tradition under the cheers of Penelope already slipped your mind. You didn’t think it was that much of a deal.

A little while later, while Aaron was still avoiding you like the plague, the two of you unknowingly found yourself under another mistletoe. (damn you, Garcia)

You looked at your (secret) boyfriend, while the team cheared you on. “We don’t have to kiss in front of everyone, if you don’t want to, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s alright. If they want a show, let’s give them one,” Aaron answers you, a rare smile slipping through. His answer confused you, why was he suddenly talking to you like nothing happened?

Leaning up, you place a quick peck on his lips, briefly placing your hand on his arm. As quickly as it started it was already over again. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, knowing he was never one for PDA.

“Show’s over guys,” you announce before going to the kitchen to fulfil your actual plan of getting a refill for your drink.

Aaron silently follows you, even though he just left the massive kitchen. After watching you for a moment, he asked you the question that had been on his mind since you kissed Derek some time ago.

“Why did Derek get a real kiss?”

“What do you mean?” The confusion was written all over your face.

“Just now, under the mistletoe.” Oh, so that is what this is all about. He continues “I only get a small peck, but you kissed Morgan like it was the last time you would ever kiss someone” in a smaller voice he added “It almost seemed more real with him.”

“Aaron, are you jealous?” You almost let out a small laugh, but his almost pained expression made you hold back. In that moment he looked so small and vulnerable, avoiding your eye.

Stepping forward, you take his hands in yours and tell him “Listen to me now, Hotchner. You’re the only one that I want, yeah? I need you to know that.” Your hands now move to cup his face, his dark eyes meeting yours again, the uncertainty in them slowly fading again. “I only gave you a small peck because of the whole ‘we don’t want to tell the team about us” thing. And of course, when Mr. Flirty himself tips you back for a little smooch under the mistletoe you can’t really say no that easily. And why would I, a seemingly single woman refuse to kiss my very good friend Derek Morgan. But that doesn’t matter now, because you Mr. Aaron Hotchner are it for me, I don’t want anybody else. You understand me?”

Hearing you talk like this made Hotch almost feel a little bit silly. Of course, he loved you and knew that you loved him too. And deep down he knows that he never doubted that, but you kissing Derek made something ugly and green sprout in his mind and he was foolish enough to let it overshadow the love you shared.

“I’m sorry, of course I know. I love you like nobody else but seeing you with somebody younger and more charming made me question myself.” It pained you to know Aaron felt hurt by this.

“No, don’t be sorry. I promise I won’t kiss any more colleagues under the mistletoe. Ok, I think that’s a lie, I have the feeling Prentiss is just waiting for her opportunity.” Your joke had the anticipated effect, making you both laugh. Without thinking you lean up, meeting his already waiting lips in an almost passionate kiss. After parting , you both share a knowing look before departing and joining the party again.

++++

The party continued everybody – even you – oblivious to Aarons inner debate. Of course he knew that you were stable, especially after you reassured him, but something still didn’t let him enjoy the time, especially when you were talking to Derek or as as silly as it may sound, Prentiss. He couldn’t get your comment out of his head, even if it was a joke.

Thankfully there was not just the team at Rossi’s Christmas party, but also a lot of his other friends and fbi people, so it wouldn’t be noticed that the two of you were missing.

He quickly found you and thankfully you weren’t talking to anybody at the moment. Closing the distance, he leaned into you and whispered in your ear. “Meet me upstairs, the first bathroom to your left. You go ahead, I’ll join you in about five minutes, darling.” With a quick kiss to your cheek, he left you alone and went back to the party.

Even if you questioned his behaviour, you also trust this man with your life, so you went upstairs and waited. After almost exactly five minutes you heard a knock and a quiet it’s me, making you open the door.

The moment it was closed again, Aaron connected your lips with his and kissed you like his life depended on it. His hands immediately went to your waist, his grip never faltering for even a second. You let out a surprised squeal but weren’t unhappy with how things turned out, so you immediately returned the kiss with just as much enthusiasm, your hands wandering over his arms before letting them rest on his muscular chest.

The unit chief lead you backwards to the sink, turning you around and pressing you against it. The cool tile made you shiver, your thin dress making you feel every dip. You were quickly distracted though, now feeling Aarons massive body against you, his hard cock pressing against your back.

Feeling his length made you gasp. You boyfriends hands rested against your hips again, his lips trailing over the back of your neck and your shoulder.

“You look so beautiful in that dress; it almost kills me to act like I don’t care. Especially when I see everybody looking at you, but you’re mine, aren’t you?”

You were again surprised by his words. Was he really that jealous? Your only answer was a whined only you, before Aaron let his hand wander underneath your dress.

He started stroking your wet cunt through your wet panties, the kissing and his behaviour already having an effect on you. Pressing your ass against his erection, you let out a small moan.

Aaron wanted to be inside of you as fast as he could, so he didn’t hesitate to push your panties to the side and let his finger glide through your folds.

“Already so wet for me, baby. Do you want my cock?” As he was saying that, he slowly pushed one of his thick fingers into you, slowly pumping in and out of you while waiting for an answer.

After a moment you realised he was waiting for an answer, his fingers on you making it hard to concentrate. “Yes, Aaron, need you so bad.”

He swiftly added another finger, now slowly curling them inside of you, preparing you for his length. Letting out another string of moans, your grip his hand, signalling hm to go faster.

“Please Aaron, I’m so close.” It was more of a whine, your head dropping back against his strong shoulder.

Aaron reached forward, hugging your torso against him.

“Let go, come for me, now” it didn’t take more for you. With a breathless call of is name you came undone, your whole body trembling. Aaron supported your weight, his fingers slowly coming to a halt inside of you before pulling out, making you whine.

The unit chief placed a kiss upon your shoulder, before using his now free hand to open up his fly and pull out his rock hard cock. He gave himself a few slow pumps, spreading your remaining wetness over his length.

He properly bunched up your dress to your waist and pulled your panties to the side again, before lining his tip up with your hole. Slowly he buried himself inside of you, his hand now going to your mouth to muffle your moans.

Your eyes closed, you already anticipate the heavenly feeling of him rubbing against your walls and moments later he starts moving. First slowly, giving you a moment to adjust to his length, and then he starts pounding into you, as if to get you both to your release as fast as possible.

The only sounds in the small bathroom were skin slapping against skin and your mixed moans and groans.

Aaron moves his hand, gripping your face and directing it to the mirror in front of you. “Look at you, so pretty. All just for me. I’m the only one who gets to see you like this, huh?” His possessive words make your pussy throb and your walls contract around his cock. You’ve never seen your boyfriend act like this, but you weren’t complaining.

“Only you Aaron, only you,” you breathed out, already feeling your release, the coil in your stomach threatening to snap.

“Please Aaron, I’m so close. Please cum with me, fill me up,” was all you could get out before your whole body started to tremble again, your second orgasm hitting you even harder as the firs. If it wasn’t for your boyfriend holding you up, you would have already slumped forward.

“Fuck,” was all Aaron could get out before his cock twitched and released inside of you. He halted his movements and buried himself to the tilt, now using both of his hands to hug you close to him.

Once you’ve both calmed down, he pulled out and moved your panties back and your dress back down.

“Don’t wipe it away, leave it as a reminder as to who you belong to.” He told you gentle, before adding, “I’m going to go back to the party, follow me after a few minutes.”

He placed another kiss against your lips before pulling away completely to leave the room, leaving you breathless and satisfied.

You were both sure about your relationship now and even when Prentiss eventually gets you under the mistletoe and leaves a very passionate kiss on your lips, the wetness in your panties is a gentle reminder to who you belong to.

a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated! i’d like to write more with criminal minds characters, so if you have any ideas/requests lmk!!

please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueeen

requests open!

taglist: @silvermagnolias @milywatermelon @bigbananaa

92 notes · View notes

genderqueerdykes · 2 days ago

Note

not a question but thank you so much for talking about transandrophobia omg. i feel like i’m going crazy when people try to assert trans men automatically gain all the privilege cis men have, or even that they deserve worse treatment for “wanting to be men.” being transmasc is truly beautiful <3

it literally drives me insane when people claim that trans men instantly gain cishet male privilege the second we come out. most if not all trans men never gain that privilege to begin with. they are not treated or viewed the same way as cishet men. they're clawing and fighting for their lives to be seen as men, period, let alone to be treated like a man, or to be given the benefits that come with being a cishet man.

and i've seen that too. that people think that trans men and mascs literally DESERVE to suffer and be treated like shit. i think that sentiment is really rampant right now. like pissed off transphobic transfems blame trans men for the issues they have with cisheternormative patriarchy and it's placing the blame on the wrong person. transmascs are not actively oppressing trans women by virtue of being men.

trans men are also systemically oppressed. like this sounds rude as hell but as someone who is transfeminine, i really have to sit here and say "the trans community isn't about you." like yes, the trans community is here for us transfems, we belong in general trans spaces just like everyone else. but the general trans community isn't the trans woman community. like i just hate that people are trying to chase out everyone but transfems at this point.

it's so pointless. so many transfems get indoctrinated into rad feminism and do rad fem's work for them by torturing trans men and telling them that they're just confused women. i have never, in my life, seen more corrective rape threats than i have when trans men start opening up about the oppression they face. hell i've gotten them from other transfems before. it's disgusting how we don't confront this behavior.

that is what cisheternormative society does to trans men. why are you perpetuating it from the inside? why are you proudly transphobic? why are you hurting people to try to relieve your pain? hurting someone else will never undo the damage done to you. it's the cycle of abuse. you have to break it. you can't allow the cisheternormative patriarchal cycle of abuse to be practiced within our own walls without it biting you in the ass, too. it's bullshit

#asks #answers #transandrophobia #transphobia

62 notes · View notes

choc-ice-on-wheels · 2 days ago

Text

Humor me but I was trying to explain to my friend about how it feels to enjoy trains. Even as a novice I cannot help but romanticize them and wanted my friend to see through the mind of an engine or how I imagine an engine sees itself.

Imagine being so strong and nothing can really hurt you. You’re in a perfectly safe space made just for YOU (the rails) And your job is to go FAST as fast as you were made to be. Or to be strong and to be as strong as you were made to be. You were made to be fast and strong! There was intention in your design. Science, engineering, something real, something you aren’t taught to believe in the walls of a church. Power you can touch, see, and feel. You are imagination made real!

A person has to live under constraints and social pressure. And although you were made for people, their rules that restrict you like speed restrictions or what color you must be painted will never eclipse the truth of what you are and what you were meant to be.

Imagine being a thing built to work and LOVING to work and WANTING to work and when you’re tired, there are people who will fix you and you pay them with your work which also pays you! You are compensated by your mere existence and your usage! And people tell you you’re marvelous and strong and beautiful and it’s true because you are!

It’s like!!! Living an absolute perfect truth. And when you’re speeding down the track whistling as loud as you can for you’re meant to be loud and going as fast as you can because that’s what you’re meant to do; when you’re doing that, you’re living in perfect happiness.

The happiest one could ever be! No biological desire no concept of denying yourself your ultimate calling. Just doing what you’re made to do and loving it unconditionally. And being praised for it and never needing money because it means nothing to you! Incredible.

I just think it would be the most amazing feeling ever. But also!The saddest feeling to be broken! To be unused and waiting in a museum or a siding or a scrapyard. To be told you’re useless. To be melted down for some unknown purpose and to never feel the wind across your frames again and to never scream at your highest pitch that you’re alive and you’re loud enough to drown out the rest of the world! To be silent and only to take up space until you are removed from the beautiful rails and destroyed.

To no longer be what you were made to be. So cold you crack and rust away. And people only speak of your glory in past tense and blame you for things you couldn’t control.

Didn’t I do a good job?

Didn’t I pull? Didn’t I push trucks around nicely? Didn’t you get to where you needed to go? Did I ever treat your destinations as unimportant? Did I ever ask you to justify the direction I took you in? All I ever asked was to be what I was meant to be.

Now you say I’m too expensive. That I take up space. That no one will take care of me anymore. That I’m bad for the Earth I was made from and the living things on it I was made for. Why is this my fault?

Why is any of this my fault? When you made me this way?

Didn’t you benefit from what it took to give me power? Weren’t we all working together? I’m not sorry. I’m just sad.

So many times that came that never had to. So much work left undone. If I were an engine with my life cut short, how I’d cry over the loss of what could have been!

But no one would hear me. I can only be heard when I’m doing what I was made for. My truth only can be spoken when I’m given a voice.

I don’t know! I think trains are neat.

#blah blah blah #trains #don’t think too much about this it’s my nature to overthink

64 notes · View notes

kurishiri · 3 days ago

Text

Alfons Sylvatica ┊ Chaotic Night

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— happy christmas, friends! i present to you...a halloween story lmao this is alfons' story from the chaotic night collection event (featuring will and nica)!

— cw: some suggestiveness, but no portrayed smut.

Due to having ingested the Queen of the Night flower, the Cursed ones’ appearances have changed——

And pulling my hand, Alfons brought me to his room.

Kate: Why did you bring me to your room?

Alfons: You’re asking me that in earnest? There are brutes, all with their Curses amplified, riddled about, you know?

A: With you around, why you’d be gobbled right up.

Kate: But, everyone’s appearance has changed and there may have been changes in their condition... I would think there’s quite a bit of inconvenience.

K: I’m not affected by this, though, so I figured there was something I could do to help or take care of those around me...

Alfons: I do understand the sentiment of wanting to take care of others, but you may end up worrying too much.

A: Just like the ‘Queen of the Night,’ our sins have also amplified...

A: So I would imagine everyone is trying their hardest to hold in the impulses smoldering in their chests.

A: It would be in our best interest to lay low then.

(He does have a point there...)

Kate: ...Alright then, I’ll stay here quietly.

Alfons: Oh, but if your soft and good heart stirs so much and you want to look after someone so much you can hardly bear it, then do take care of me.

A: See, dear me, Alfons’ appearance has changed as well, and what a dire situation he is in, yes?

...was what he said, as I once again looked over his body.

(For some reason, he’s wrapped around in gauze...)

(He’s not wearing a costume, and he’s looked like this since he ingested the queen of the night extract, right...?)

As gauze was not meant to be put on and removed by one’s own volition, even if he lightly pulled on it, it wouldn’t come off.

Kate: With that look... are you hurt anywhere, or did you go through any pain and whatnot?

Alfons: Hardly. My whole body from head to toe — oh, and this place too — is thriving.

(‘This place’...?)

Kate: Umm... if that’s the case, then it’s fine for now.

K: But, now that I’m looking at it again, it’s kind of strange... why do you look like that?

Alfons: In fact, that was exactly what I wanted to ask you, Kate.

A: You would be the one to know why I’m taking on such a form.

A: After all, whatever appearance I take on is a reflection of your desires.

Kate: Your appearance reflects my desires...? What do you mean?

Alfons: Up until now, I have been showing others illusions.

A: And so, if the extract amplified such an ability...

A: Then, even without touching the back of the other’s neck, I would be able to show them what they wish to see, perhaps?

A: ...Besides that, it was when you laid your eyes on me that I changed appearance.

Kate: B-but I don’t ever want you hurt in the slightest!

Alfons: That is the least I can tell, even without your passionate declaration.

A: You are hardly the type to wish harm on me.

Kate: Then why...

Alfons: Hmm, well...

A: ...Ahh, I have an inkling. This is Japonisme, isn’t it?

Kate: Japonisme... you mean how the culture and art from a country called Japan became a trend?

Alfons: Exactly that. In Japan, there is a type of clothing called a kimono, you see...

A: And within that is a part called the obi [1], in which all will be laid bare with one flourish... was a part of their culture.

A: Oh, and by the way, when it’s been removed, the wearer would shout, ‘Oh me, oh my!’ while falling upon the bed.

Kate: ...Was that really a thing?

Alfons: Who knows? I, too, have only ever heard it in passing... well, anyhow, what I wanted to say was...

A: You probably wanted to wrap me in bandages before pulling it all off in one go.

Kate: Wh— why would I be into that sort of naughty thing...!?

Alfons: But you could have been influenced by me, no?

Kate: ...It pains me to admit that I can’t completely argue with that.

Alfons: Ahha! I won’t judge no matter how many strange hobbies you hold, you know?

A: How about you try to take them off, just to test the theory?

(Just what desire of mine caused Alfons to take on such an appearance, I wonder...?)

(It’s not as though I particularly like bandages...)

Then, while thinking about my own tastes...

Alfons: Urgh...

Alfons let out a small groan.

Kate: Did something happen!?

Alfons: The bandages around me wrapped even tighter... and it’s become a tad painful.

Kate: Wha...

Alfons: ...Ahh, but worry not. I do feel being bound to your desires like this isn’t so bad...

As Alfons said that, his expression looked a little pale. He was clearly holding it in.

(I need to stop my desire quick, or Alfons will continue to be in pain like this...!)

(Bandages... bondage... just what’s the reason? What in the world am I wishing for...!?)

I continued to mull on it as hard as I could, in hopes of saving Alfons... when it was then I realized.

(Could it be...!)

Kate: Alfons, say, ‘There’s only the two of us in this room’ to me!

Alfons: ...? ‘There’s only the two of us in this room’...

Albeit hesitant, Alfons said those words, and...

Alfons: Ah... the bandages feel more loose.

Kate: Thank goodness... which would mean my guess was right.

Alfons: Care to explain?

Kate: Well... the other day when we went out to eat together, there were a lot of women in the shop...

K: And many of those women seemed pretty taken by you, so...

K: I ended up thinking, ‘If only nobody else could see Alfons...’

Alfons: Hehe... I see now. So that’s what it was.

A: You didn’t want anyone else seeing me, and so by wrapping me all around in bandages, you could hide me away... is that it?

A: In that case, ‘there’s only the two of us in this room’ would make sense.

A: If it’s just the two of us, there is nobody but you to see me, so there would be no need to wrap me up in bandages then.

Kate: So it really was my desire that left you looking like this... I’m really sorry.

Alfons: Why the apology?

A: To see your earnest love manifest in a way that’s easy to understand is rather a good thing, no?

A: Love is an invisible thing, and at times I do question its existence. But... to see it like this, it does put me at ease.

With an amused smile, Alfons kissed me.

The heat and sweetness of those lips melted away my guilt.

Alfons: ...Say, Kate. There is only the two of us in this room, with no one to interrupt.

A: So what would follow then?

Kate: T-that...

I was too embarrassed to form any more words, but it no longer had anything to do with whether I said it or not.

My desire unbound Alfons’ bandages, causing his clothes to become disheveled on its own.

Alfons: ...You’re quite naughty, aren’t you, Kate.

While laughing happily, Alfons pushed me down on the bed.

Each of us consuming a jumbled mess of Curses and love, this Chaotic Night was just getting started.

Fin.

masterlist🪞 ┊ ko-fi ☕️ ┊ comms🤍

NOTES:

[1] The obi refers to the part of the kimono, traditional Japanese clothing, that is a sash. It might look something like this.

#im in tears hes so silly #ikemen villains #ikevil #イケメンヴィラン #ikevil alfons #ikevil alfons sylvatica #alfons sylvatica #ikemen villains alfons #cybird ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #ikemen series #otome game #otome #ikevil translation #ikevil translations #d: cafekitsune

57 notes · View notes

writingsoftarnishedsilver · 2 days ago

Text

Swimming | Sebastian Sallow x OC #59

Summary: ;)

Words: ~8,400

Tags: Confessions, Mutual Pining, Smut Adjacent

Timeline: Early September

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

Read on AO3

Evangeline froze, her mind momentarily blank as Sebastian’s shirt hit the sand. She hadn’t expected him to take her seriously. The idea of swimming had been a passing remark, something to fill the silence between them and steer them away from the weight of their earlier argument. And yet here he was—barefoot, bare-chested, and completely unapologetic about it.

The fading light cast a soft glow that caught on the planes of his chest and shoulders, highlighting every defined muscle and faint scar. He’d grown broader in the past few months, and it was all on display—the hard edges and smooth planes of him, the breadth of his chest and the angular cut of his abdomen.

Her eyes couldn’t help but wander, tracing the faint smattering of freckles that dotted his shoulders, subtle and almost boyish against the otherwise sharp lines of him. Her gaze lingered, catching on the faint trail of hair below his navel that disappeared beneath the waistband of his trousers, and heat crept into her cheeks despite the coolness of the night air.

Evangeline swallowed hard, tearing her gaze away and forcing her thoughts back into order. She hadn’t meant for things to go like this—not after the way she’d stormed off, her emotions raw and exposed. She knew why Sebastian had followed her, why he’d come looking for her. He’d wanted answers. Closure. Something to mend the fracture between them. And yet, since the moment he’d arrived, he hadn’t pressed. He’d been patient, careful even, letting her dictate the pace of their conversation.

That patience was what had thrown her off the most.

Evangeline knew Sebastian. She knew his pride, his stubbornness, his instinct to charge headlong into everything, to fix things with grand apologies and passionate words. But tonight, he hadn’t done any of that. He’d stopped short of an apology, stopped short of pushing her to talk. Instead, he’d waited. For what, she wasn’t sure—her temper to cool, perhaps, or for her to make the first move. Maybe even for her to tell him to leave. And now, this strange in-between had settled over them, fragile but strangely comforting.

She’d been talking so calmly with him—not because she wasn’t still hurt, but because she wasn’t ready to face the inevitable. The confrontation they’d been skirting around all evening. The confrontation she knew she couldn’t avoid forever. It would come, and when it did, it would leave them either stronger or broken. And she was terrified of the latter, so she’d kept things light, conversational, even teasing. Anything to delay the moment when everything might come crashing down.

“Well?” Sebastian said, his voice breaking through her thoughts. He glanced over his shoulder at her, his dark eyes glinting in the fading light. “Don’t tell me you were bluffing.”

Evangeline’s mind raced as she tried to summon a coherent response. “I—uh…” She cleared her throat, dragging her gaze away from him and fixing it firmly on the lake. "Do you really expect me to... to just jump in?"

Sebastian's eyes narrowed. “What’s stopping you?” he asked. “You were the one lamenting the lack of swimming in our lives.”

“That was hypothetical,” she countered, crossing her arms defensively. “You’re the one who's turning it into a reality.”

“Exactly,” he replied, now reaching for the button of his trousers. “So come on."

Evangeline blinked, averting her eyes. "I can't just go into the water in my dress Sebastian," she managed to retort. “The, um. The boning in the corset will get ruined, and do you have any idea how expensive these things are?”

Sebastian blinked, clearly not expecting the sudden turn into practicality. “Expensive,” he echoed, looking vaguely bewildered. “Right. Of course. You dress has boning… and it's expensive.”

“Yes, and I’m not about to ruin it just because you’ve decided tonight’s the night for an impromptu swim,” she replied more steadily now, folding her arms and glaring at him.

He tilted his head, studying her for a moment before realization dawned on his face. A flicker of something she couldn’t quite place passed through his expression—nervousness? Determination?—but he quickly schooled it into his usual smirk. “Alright,” he said, voice a little quieter now. “Then we’ll fix that.”

She raised an eyebrow, suspicious. “Fix what, exactly?”

Sebastian stepped closer, his confidence faltering slightly as he cleared his throat. “The dress. I can, uh… help you take it off.”

Evangeline’s eyes widened, heat rushing to her cheeks. “What?”

He held up his hands, his face turning a faint shade of pink. “Look, I’m just saying—if the corset back is the only thing keeping you out of the water, then I’ll help. That’s all."

She stared at him, caught somewhere between mortification and disbelief. “Sebastian, are you seriously offering to—”

“Undo the laces? Yes,” he interrupted, though his tone was uncharacteristically careful. “I’m not about to let you sit this out because of a stubborn bit of boning.”

Evangeline bit her lip, torn between laughing at his audacity and retreating entirely. But the truth was, she didn’t want to leave. For all her inner turmoil, being here—just here—with him was better than the alternative. Better than walking away entirely, better than facing what the world outside this quiet moment demanded of them.

"Okay," she said slowly, her cheeks burning as she glanced down at the lake rather than meet his gaze. "But... you do realize that under this, I’m only wearing…" She hesitated. "You know… ."

Sebastian, who had taken a step closer, visibly stiffened. For a moment, and she could swear his ears turned a shade darker under the moonlight. But instead of retreating, he cleared his throat and nodded, doing his best to appear unbothered.

"Yeah, it's fine," he said, though his voice was just slightly too quick. He gestured to his trousers, his smirk returning but with an edge of bashfulness that made it feel less like a tease and more like a reassurance. "I won't be diving in fully dressed, will I? So, you’ll be in your underthings. And I’ll be in mine. Completely fair. No big deal, right?"

Evangeline blinked, momentarily at a loss for words. No big deal? He was saying it so casually, as if the thought of both of them standing there, practically undressed after they'd just had a shouting match, wasn’t completely mortifying. "Right," she said faintly, trying to sound more composed than she felt. "No big deal."

Sebastian stepped closer, his movements deliberate and unhurried, as if he were giving her every chance to stop him. Evangeline felt the shift in the air before she heard the faint crunch of sand beneath his feet, his presence settling behind her like a steadying force. The warmth of him, so close yet not quite touching, sent a ripple of awareness down her spine.

Her breath hitched as she sensed his hesitation, a momentary pause that felt like the calm before a storm. Then, with a touch so light it was almost imperceptible, his fingers brushed against the ties of her dress.

Evangeline had been in love with Sebastian for so long that she’d imagined him undressing her countless times in the privacy of her own thoughts—moments steeped in longing, tenderness, and stolen intimacy. But she’d never, never expected it to happen in a scenario like this: standing barefoot at the edge of a moonlit lake, her cheeks aflame and her corset undone by his hands under the guise of practicality after they'd just stumbled out of a heated argument that neither of them had truly resolved.

Her breath hitched as his fingers worked at the laces, each pull sending a jolt of something unfamiliar through her. She couldn’t deny the thrill of it, nor the longing it dredged up, raw and unrelenting. But with it came a rush of self-consciousness—her mind spinning with the thought of him seeing her, really seeing her, with nothing to hide behind but her own vulnerability.

The ties loosened one by one, and her pulse quickened. Of course, this wasn’t the first time they’d shared an intimate moment. The memory of the Prefects’ Bath flickered through her mind, that night when they’d both shed their clothes and submerged themselves in the steaming water. But there had been bubbles then, clouds of froth that had kept her modesty intact.

Now, there were no bubbles to shield her, no warm water to obscure the curves and imperfections she tried so hard not to dwell on. It was just him, her, and the moonlight, casting its soft glow over everything she wanted to hide.

“There,” Sebastian murmured, his voice low as he finished untying the last of the laces. He stepped back, giving her space, though his fingers lingered for a fraction of a second longer than necessary. “You’re free.”

She swallowed hard, clutching the loosened bodice to her chest as she turned her head slightly, just enough to catch his expression out of the corner of her eye. He wasn’t looking at her, not directly—his gaze was fixed somewhere over her shoulder, his jaw tight, as though he were making a conscious effort to give her privacy.

“Thanks,” she said softly, her voice barely audible.

Sebastian cleared his throat, stepping back further. "Sure."

Evangeline stood motionless for a moment, watching as Sebastian now worked at the button of his trousers.

Steeling herself, she glanced around for somewhere to place her dress. Her eyes landed on a flat, dry rock a few feet away, its surface smooth and clean. Perfect.

With trembling hands, she finally let the rest of her dress slip away. The cool night air kissed her exposed skin, and a wave of self-consciousness hit her like a crashing tide. She was bare now, save for the lace of her bra and underwear, and every one of insecurities clawed its way to the surface.

The stretch marks she bore from the rapid weight loss and gain after fifth year—the ones that etched themselves across her hips and stomach and thighs—seemed glaringly obvious under the moonlight. The soft curve of her belly, the rolls on her back, the dimpled skin of her thighs. The scars from Quidditch mishaps and childhood scrapes. She felt the weight of it all, the imperfections she had long tried to accept but never quite could. Here, under the stars, it felt as if the world could see them all, and most painfully, so could he.

Sebastian, having finished unbuttoning his trousers, let the fabric slide down his legs before stepping out of them, leaving him in nothing but his briefs. The moonlight caught on the lean strength of his frame—the broad shoulders, the taper of his waist, the long lines of his legs. His hair, dark and tousled, fell slightly into his eyes as he reached down to gather his trousers, balling them put before tossing them up the beach.

Swallowing hard, Evangeline started toward him, hoping to slip into the water before he could get a proper look at her bare form. The cool sand pressed against her feet as she stepped closer to the water’s edge, her arms wrapped tightly around her midsection in a subconscious attempt to shield herself.

But Sebastian turned at the sound of her approach, his gaze instinctively flickering toward her before quickly darting away, as if realizing too late the vulnerability of the moment. His jaw tightened, and he cleared his throat. "Uh, tell me how the water is?"

She let out a breathless laugh, part nervous and part exasperated as she waded into the lake. The coolness bit at her toes, and she focused on the sensation, letting it ground her as she moved deeper into the lake.

Sebastian, to his credit, kept his gaze firmly fixed on the water in front of him. His posture was stiff, his usual air of nonchalance tempered by a rare, palpable awkwardness.

“It’s cold,” she said finally, her voice cutting through the silence. “Refreshing, though.”

He nodded, still not looking directly at her. "Good. That’s… good."

Evangeline couldn’t help but smirk, despite her own nerves. “You can stop pretending you’re suddenly fascinated by the lake, you know. I’m already in the water.”

Sebastian glanced at her, his expression sheepish. “Just trying to be a gentleman,” he said, his smirk returning, though it was softer than usual.

“Well,” she said, now swimming toward the center of the small lake, “if that’s the case, you’d better get in before I change my mind about this whole thing.”

His laugh was low and warm as he followed her, the ripples of the water spreading outward with each step he took.

"You're right," he agreed. "It's refreshing."

They swam in companionable silence for a while, the cool water easing the sharp edges of their tension but not erasing it entirely. It still hung in the air between them, weighty and unspoken, like a storm waiting for the right moment to break.

Meanwhile, the quiet sounds of the lake surrounded them—the gentle ripple of water as they moved, the distant call of an owl, and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. Evangeline tilted her head back, her eyes tracing the endless stretch of stars above them. The sky seemed alive with shimmering light, so vast and serene that, for a moment, it almost allowed her to forget the weight in her chest. Almost. But the knot of their unresolved argument still coiled tightly within her, tugging at the edges of her calm. It was in the way Sebastian’s movements in the water were just a touch too deliberate, in the way he kept glancing at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. He was waiting. And she knew why.

Sebastian, maintaining his patience, let out a contented sigh. “You don’t get skies like this in London,” he said, his voice low and reflective. “Too much smoke. Too much noise.”

Evangeline turned her head toward him, tracing his features as he gazed up at the sky.

“You miss it, don’t you?” she asked, her voice soft as her eyes traced the stars above. “Feldcroft, I mean.”

Sebastian nodded slowly, still gazing upward. “I do. The peace. It’s hard to find a place like this anywhere else. London’s too loud. Too busy.”

“It’s nice that Feldcroft will always be here for you to come back to,” she replied lightly, her tone tinged with a wistfulness she hadn’t intended. Their conversation slipped into a comfortable quiet again as they floated, the water cradling them in its cool embrace.

But the serenity didn’t last.

The splash caught her off guard, a sudden burst of cool water striking her arm and sending a shiver through her skin. She flinched, startled, her eyes snapping to Sebastian, who wore an expression of feigned innocence that only made her suspicion grow.

It wasn’t much—just a small, lazy flick of his hand through the water—but it shattered the fragile tranquility of the moment. For a second, she didn’t move, her mind racing to catch up with the unexpected interruption.

“Did you just...?” she began, her brow furrowing as she stared at him.

Sebastian shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching upward as though he couldn’t quite hold back a grin. “What? I didn’t do anything.”

Evangeline narrowed her eyes at him, her confusion giving way to incredulity. “Oh, you didn’t, did you?”

“Not a thing,” he said, his voice light, almost teasing. But there was something beneath it, something she couldn’t quite name—a tension he was trying to hide behind the playful glint in his eyes.

For a moment, she just stared at him. The shock of the gesture had faded, replaced by a flicker of realization. Maybe he wasn’t just waiting for her to bring up the inevitable—maybe he was delaying it too.

The thought unsettled her, but it also... softened something inside her. The weight of their argument, the tension that had lingered all evening, hadn’t disappeared. But maybe neither of them wanted to face it just yet.

Narrowing her eyes, she cupped her hands and sent a splash of water straight back at him. He yelped, sputtering as it hit him square in the chest.

“You’re going to regret that,” he said, his grin widening as he retaliated with a much larger splash.

Evangeline shrieked, laughing as she tried to shield herself from the spray. “Stop!” she cried, though her words were punctuated with giggles.

“Not a chance,” he called back, dodging her next attempt and kicking up another wave.

The fight escalated quickly, their laughter ringing out into the quiet night. Evangeline managed to land a few solid splashes in retaliation, sending water cascading over Sebastian’s shoulders and face. He grinned, his eyes alight with mischief, and waded further out, using the deeper water to his advantage as he sent another wave her way.

Evangeline shrieked as the cold water hit her square in the face. “Sebastian Sallow!” she yelled, trying to sound indignant, though her laughter betrayed her. “You are so dead!”

“Catch me if you can, Sterling!” he shot back, already swimming toward the shallows.

Without thinking, she followed. Her legs churned through the water as she tried to close the gap, but Sebastian was faster, his strides growing longer as he reached the shore and took off running along the sandy bank.

“Oh, no, you don’t!” she called after him, determination sparking in her chest as she splashed onto the shore and gave chase, her earlier self-consciousness forgotten in the heat of the moment.

The cool sand shifted beneath her feet as she sprinted after him, the night air whipping around her damp skin. Sebastian glanced back over his shoulder, his grin wide and triumphant even as he saw her gaining on him.

But then her foot caught on an uneven patch of sand, and her balance wavered. She let out a startled yelp as she stumbled forward, her arms flailing in an attempt to steady herself.

Sebastian turned just in time to see her slip, his instincts kicking in. In a heartbeat, he was there, catching her around the waist before she could hit the ground. The force of her momentum sent them both stumbling.

In the aftermath, Evangeline froze, her breath catching as she registered what had just happened. She was sprawled against Sebastian, their bodies tangled together on the sand. His arms were wrapped firmly around her, his grip warm and steady as if to shield her from the fall. Her hands, instinctively braced against his chest, registered every inch of lean muscle beneath her palms, slick from the water.

Her chest was pressed to his, her damp bra and doing little to disguise the softness of her. His legs bracketed hers, their bodies aligned in a way that left no room for misunderstanding. She could feel the heat radiating off him despite the cool night air, the firmness of his hands pressing into the plushness of her waist, grounding her.

They had been close before—hundreds, perhaps thousands of times—but there had always been layers between them. Layers of fabric, propriety, and unspoken boundaries neither had dared to cross. Those layers had always been a buffer, a safety net that kept them tethered to a careful kind of intimacy, one that teetered just shy of something deeper.

Now, though, every one of those layers was gone. The cool water dripped down her skin, and the air between them felt impossibly thin. Her head swam as her gaze flickered, unbidden, to the damp hair clinging to his forehead, dark tendrils framing the sharp angles of his face. Her eyes trailed lower, to the curve of his jaw, the faint shadow of stubble, and the way his lips parted slightly with each steady breath he took.

It was intoxicating, and for one fleeting moment, she allowed herself to linger in the feeling, to imagine what it might be like to let herself give in completely to the warmth of his touch and the intensity of his gaze.

But then, like a bucket of ice water, her insecurities surged to the forefront.

She was too much. Too vulnerable. Too exposed. And he could see everything. Feel everything. The softness of her body, usually hidden beneath structured corsets and flowing skirts, was now pressed against him with nothing to conceal it. Her curves, her imperfections, her vulnerability—it was all right there, melting into him. She could feel the press of her stomach against his abs, the way her thighs seemed to mold against his. Her stretch marks, her scars—everything she tried to ignore or downplay felt glaringly obvious.

Her thoughts spiraled in chaos, screaming at her to pull away, to create the distance that might save her from unraveling completely. But her body betrayed her, frozen in place, refusing to let go of the warmth and solidity of him beneath her.

Sebastian shifted slightly, and when he spoke, his voice was quiet, low and rough with something she couldn’t quite name. “Evie?”

“I—” she began, her voice faltering as she felt his thumbs brush against the curve of her waist, sending a jolt of warmth through her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“It's fine,” he interrupted gently, his grip on her tightening just slightly, as if to steady her—or maybe himself. “I caught you, didn’t I?”

She let out a breathless laugh, but the sound felt hollow. “Yeah."

I should move. She knew she should. But she couldn’t. And she realized with a start, that he wasn't moving either.

Sebastian’s voice broke the silence again, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Was this part of your grand plan? Throwing yourself at me like this?”

Her cheeks flamed instantly, and the mortification snapped her out of her daze. “What? No!” she blurted, scrambling to push herself away from him, her hands bracing against his chest for leverage.

But as she moved, Sebastian’s grip reflexively reached for her hips to steady her—or at least that’s what she assumed he intended. The result, however, was nothing short of disastrous. Instead of breaking free, her movements shifted her forward, leaving her straddling his hips as her knees sank into the cool sand on either side of him.

Evangeline froze, her breath catching as the new position sent a shockwave of awareness through her — the warmth of his abdomen radiating through the damp fabric of her underwear, the firm grip of his hands still pressing into her sides. Her entire body felt exposed, laid bare in a way that made her chest tighten and her breath hitch. And the angle—Merlin, the angle—made it so much worse. He was beneath her, looking up with an unobstructed view of everything she tried so hard to hide.

Sebastian, meanwhile, let his head fall back into the sand, the cool grains pressing against his damp hair as he shut his eyes tightly, a soft, almost pained groan slipping past his lips.

He needed to ground himself. To stop his thoughts from spiraling into places he couldn’t afford to go right now. But it was impossible.

From the moment she’d landed on him, sprawled and warm and so real, he'd been done for. Sebastian was drowning in her, in the feel of her, the weight of her on top of him, the heat of her against him. His hands spanned her hips, plush beneath his fingers, the kind of softness he’d dreamed of countless times but never dared to hope he’d actually feel.

When he opened his eyes again, he was greeted with the sight of her above him, framed by the silvery glow of the moonlight. She looked ethereal, her damp hair clinging to her face and shoulders, a few dark strands curling against the curve of her neck. Her cheeks were flushed, whether from embarrassment or exertion he was unsure, and her hazel eyes were wide, darting between his own and his mouth as if she couldn’t decide where to look.

And then there was her body, her glorious body that left him breathless. Her thighs framed his hips, plush and firm in a way that sent heat pooling low in his stomach. The curve of her belly rested just above the waistband of her panties, soft and utterly mesmerizing. Instinctively, his thumbs brushed against the supple give of her hips. It was all he could do not to drag his fingers lower, to let himself explore the curves and dips that had haunted his thoughts for years.

And her chest—Merlin, her chest. The damp fabric of her bra clung to her like a second skin, the delicate lace barely containing her obnoxiously full breasts as they rose and fell with each shallow breath she took. Sebastian swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry, his fingers tightening to anchor himself to reality.

It was too much. The feel of her, the sight of her—he felt like he’d been pulled into one of his dreams, one of the countless fantasies he’d entertained over the years when he let himself imagine what it might be like to have her like this. But this wasn’t a dream. Evangeline was here, her body soft and real beneath his hands.

"...Sebastian?" The way she said his name, so quiet and full of uncertainty, nearly undid him.

Sebastian swallowed hard, his voice caught somewhere between a hum and a sigh as he tried to focus on her words instead of the overwhelming reality of her warmth against him.

“Hm?” he managed.

Evangeline’s brows furrowed slightly. “Are you… alright?” she asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

Was he alright? No. Absolutely not.

“I—” He hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He let out a breathless chuckle, shaking his head slightly as he forced himself to look at her. “Well, Evie, you’ve just tackled me into the sand. Do I look alright to you?”

Her lips parted in surprise, and for a moment, she stared at him, her expression torn between indignation and something softer—something vulnerable. “I didn’t tackle you,” she retorted, though her voice lacked its usual conviction.

“Oh, really?” he teased, his lips quirking into a faint smirk despite the tension coiling in his chest and low in his abdomen. “Because it feels a lot like you tackled me.”

Evangeline’s gaze darted away from his, her hazel eyes fixing somewhere over his shoulder as though the horizon suddenly demanded all of her attention.

Her lips parted, and for a moment, she looked as though she might say something sharp to counter his teasing. But instead, she ducked her head ever so slightly, her dark hair slipping forward to frame her face like a shield.

“Well, sorry. Just… um. Don’t look at me too closely, okay?”

Sebastian blinked, his brows furrowing as her words hit him. He felt the tension in her body, the way her shoulders seemed to curl inward as if she were trying to shrink away from him even while her weight remained firmly atop him. Despite the heat pooling low in his stomach, an ache bloomed in his chest at the quiet vulnerability in her voice.

She wasn’t just embarrassed. She was worried.

She was worried about him seeing her. She was worried about how he would see her—worried that what she thought about herself was what he might think too. And in that instant, something inside him irrevocably shifted.

In the past, Sebastian would’ve been horrified to admit the hold she had over him—the way she could unravel him with a single glance, a soft laugh, or the briefest brush of her hand against his. For years, he had fought to bury those feelings, to shove them deep into the corners of his heart where they couldn’t hurt either of them. He told himself it was for the best, that admitting how much he wanted her, how deeply she affected him, would only complicate things—ruin what they had, because he'd never be good enough for her.

So, he had kept it hidden. He turned his attraction into half-teasing quips and fleeting, stolen moments of closeness that he knew he could laugh off later. He flirted with other girls, chased fleeting distractions, anything to fill the void.

But now? Now, with her sitting atop him, her cheeks flushed and her body trembling with an uncertainty she couldn’t quite hide, every feeling he had fought so hard to suppress came crashing to the surface, relentless and impossible to ignore, demanding to be spoken.

Because this wasn’t just about his lust for her. It wasn’t just about wanting to touch her, to hold her, to watch her come undone by his hand. It was about how deeply it hurt him to see her doubt herself. To see her sit there, beautiful and radiant in the moonlight, and think for even a second that she wasn’t enough. That she wasn’t everything.

He knew admitting the truth was risky, he'd always known it. That's why he'd never done it. It could change everything between them, destroy the delicate balance they had maintained for so long, destroy this unspoken thing between them—the blurred line they had walked for months now, somewhere between friendship and something so much more.

But he couldn’t keep lying to himself, and he couldn’t keep lying to her. Not when he saw the way her insecurities gnawed at her, the way she tried to shrink away from him as if she could hide all the things she thought weren’t good enough—things he had long ago fallen irrevocably in love with.

He didn’t know what to say or how to say it. He had dreamed about this moment countless times, but now that it was here, every word he’d ever rehearsed in his head felt inadequate, clumsy. He knew he would stumble, that he probably wouldn’t say the right thing or make her feel the way she deserved. But fuck it. None of that mattered anymore.

Sebastian’s hands flexed against her hips as he let out a soft breath, trying to steady himself. “...Evangeline?”

She stiffened at the sound of her name, her hazel eyes reluctantly darting back to meet his. There was a mixture of hesitation and uncertainty in her gaze, and he could see her battling whatever thoughts were swirling in her head.

“...What?”

His own voice came out low and rough, strained with the effort of keeping himself in check. “If you back your ass up just a little,” he continued, the words deliberate, their weight unmistakable, “you’ll realize exactly what happens when I 'look closely'.”

Her eyes widened, her lips parting slightly as his words sank in. The air between them grew heavy, charged with a tension that neither of them could ignore. Sebastian held her gaze, his own unwavering. “I promise you,” he said softly, his tone laced with raw honesty, “my body isn’t exactly subtle about how it feels about you right now.”

For a long, breathless moment, she didn’t move. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breath catching audibly in her throat. Sebastian waited, his heart pounding in his chest, unsure of what she was going to do. He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d pushed too far, if he’d crossed a line they couldn’t come back from.

But then, slowly, her hand lifted from his shoulder. Her movements were hesitant, trembling, as her fingers brushed lightly against the waistband of his underwear. A spark of heat shot through him at the simple contact, but nothing could have prepared him for what came next.

Her hand moved lower, her palm pressing against him, and the world tilted on its axis.

Sebastian's breath left him in a sharp, ragged gasp, every nerve ending lighting up as her warmth seeped through the thin fabric separating them. His grip on her hips tightened instinctively, his fingers curling into the soft flesh.

Evangeline’s hand froze there, her palm resting against the hard, unmistakable length of him, and her eyes widened in surprise, her breath coming faster as though she hadn’t actually believed him—hadn’t truly expected his arousal.

“Oh,” she murmured, the single syllable escaping her lips like a startled exhale.

“Oh?” Sebastian repeated, his voice breathless, almost incredulous. “Oh?”

Her cheeks turned a deep crimson, the color spreading down her neck, and her lips parted again, as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Her hand moved away, and Sebastian nearly groaned, the absence of her hand leaving him aching and desperate for more. He couldn’t help but laugh, though the sound was rough and uneven. “What did you expect?” he asked, his voice low and heavy with need. “I’ve been telling you for ages how beautiful you are. Did you think I was joking?”

Her blush deepened, and her fingers twitched as if she didn’t know what to do, whether to pull away entirely or press closer.

“I just…” she started, her voice faltering before she finally let the words out in a rush. “I didn’t think—well, I mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it? It would probably happen with… with any girl, right?”

Sebastian blinked at her, and for a moment, he simply stared, the disbelief washing over him like a wave. “Evangeline,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less intense, “you can’t seriously think that.”

She flinched slightly at the weight of his tone, and her gaze darted to the side, her fingers tightening on his shirt as though bracing herself. “Well, I… I didn’t think—”

“—You didn’t think you were my type,” he finished for her, his voice soft, laced with a quiet tenderness that balanced the exasperation flickering at the edges.

“I—well, whenever you said I was pretty, I just... I thought you were being nice,” she mumbled.

Sebastian didn’t know whether to laugh or groan. He shook his head. “Nice?” he echoed, his voice rough with disbelief and a hint of frustration. “Evie, you have no idea.”

He shifted beneath her, his body rising as he pushed himself upright, bringing them face to face. The sudden movement made Evangeline inhale sharply, her hands instinctively gripping his shoulders to steady herself as she remained perched in his lap. He didn’t give her time to pull away or retreat—his hands moved with deliberate care, sliding up from her hips to cup her face gently.

Her brows furrowed slightly, confusion flickering in her eyes. “What are you—”

“You don’t understand,” he interrupted, his voice low but steady, a quiet intensity in every word. “You have no idea how hard it’s been pretending. For years, Evie. Pretending I wasn’t completely attracted to you. Pretending I didn’t notice every little thing about you that drives me absolutely mad.”

She froze, her breath catching audibly, but Sebastian wasn’t done. He swallowed hard, his gaze unwavering as he continued. “Since fifth year, Evangeline. Since the day we met and you obliterated me in that duel,” His voice softened, his words carrying the weight of all the years he’d kept them buried. “You’ve no idea what it’s been like. Being so drawn to you, wanting you so badly, and forcing myself to act like it wasn’t there. Like nothing was happening.”

“And now?” he continued, his voice growing quieter but no less raw. “Now that we’ve been sharing a bed for months, do you know how torturous it’s been? Having you so close, knowing you’re right there, and pretending it doesn’t affect me? Pretending I don’t want you?” He let out a short, self-deprecating laugh. “And now, when you’re literally on top of me... How am I supposed to hide it, Evie? How am I supposed to pretend this doesn’t feel like I’ve slipped into one of my dreams?”

Her face flushed an even deeper shade of crimson, and her hands trembled slightly where they rested on him. “Sebastian...” she whispered, her voice fragile, but he pushed forward, determined to get it all out.

“I get it,” he said softly, his tone shifting into something more vulnerable, almost apologetic. “I understand if this is a lot for you. If it’s too much. And I’m so sorry if you feel like I’ve been deceiving you all this time. But I didn’t know how else to handle it—I didn’t want to ruin things between us. But I... I couldn't let you think for another second that you needed to hide from me. Let you think you weren't good enough."

“In all the flings I’ve had,” Sebastian pushed forward, his voice quieter now, raw and honest in a way that made his chest ache. “All those girls... I imagined you.” His dark eyes searched hers, desperate for her to understand. “It was always you, Evangeline. Not them. Not anyone else. Just you.”

Her expression softened, her wide eyes filling with something he couldn’t quite name—shock, maybe, or disbelief, or something more vulnerable. Her lips parted slightly, but she didn’t speak, her hands hovering now as though she didn’t know whether to hold onto him or pull away.

The silence stretched and Sebastian’s caught the unmistakable glimmer of tears in her eyes. Panic surged through him, sharp and relentless.

He’d said too much.

The thought gripped him, twisting in his chest. He had gone too far, laid bare feelings he had guarded for years, and now he was watching her unravel beneath the weight of his confession.

His pulse thundered in his ears. Why hadn’t he stopped? Why hadn’t he held back like he always had, like he was supposed to? This wasn’t how things were meant to go—this wasn’t how he’d imagined her reacting if he ever mustered the courage to tell her the truth. Maybe he’d overestimated her feelings, maybe this was too much for her, maybe—

Her hands, hesitant but warm, slowly rose to his face, fingers trembling as they brushed against his cheeks, as though testing if he was real.

Sebastian froze.

“Evangeline,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, rough with emotion. “I—”

“Stop,” she murmured, cutting him off. Her voice wavered, soft and unsure, but there was no anger in it, no rejection. If anything, she sounded... overwhelmed. “Just… stop for a second.”

He obeyed instantly, holding his breath as her hazel eyes darted across his face. “You’ve... thought about me?” she asked, her voice unsteady, almost disbelieving. Her fingers tightened slightly against his cheek. “Like... that?"

“Every day,” he admitted instantly, his voice hoarse. “Every bloody day, Evie. For years. And you—” He let out a shaky breath, his eyes never leaving hers. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted, and I’ve been too much of a coward to tell you because I couldn’t risk losing you.”

Evangeline certainly didn't miss the way he'd worded it, calling himself a coward. He could see it in the way her eyes searched his, darting across every line, every flicker of emotion that crossed his face, as though adding pieces to the puzzle she'd been trying to solve. And Sebastian held perfectly still, his breath shallow, his heart pounding so hard it drowned out the night around them.

Her brows drew together, a faint crease forming between them as confusion and disbelief flickered across her face. “Sebastian…” she began softly, her gaze dropping for a brief moment before lifting again to meet his. “How you feel… Is it just... a physical thing?”

Her words landed like a blow, and Sebastian’s heart clenched painfully, panic igniting in his chest like a wildfire. “No—” The word burst from him sharper than he’d intended, the urgency in his voice startling even himself. Her eyes widened slightly, and he immediately winced, his tone softening as he leaned closer. “No. It’s not just that. It’s not even close to just that.”

Sebastian swallowed hard, his chest tightening as he fought to untangle the mess of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. His dark eyes locked onto hers, pleading silently, desperately, for her to understand. “Do I think you’re beautiful? Merlin, yes. You’re stunning, Evie. You drive me absolutely mad, and you have for years. But it’s so much more than that.” His voice cracked slightly, and he leaned closer, his hands cupping her face in return as if afraid she might slip away.

“It’s you,” he said, his words trembling with the weight of everything he’d kept bottled up. “You’re everything. Everything I never knew I needed until we met. Everything I’ve been too afraid to want. And it’s not just about how you look, or how much I want you—though Merlin knows I do.” He exhaled shakily, his gaze never leaving hers. “It’s about you. All of you.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Heavy. Crushing. It stretched between them, every second of her quiet pulling him further into the churning void of fear. His heart thundered in his chest, the sound almost deafening in his ears, and though his hands stayed steady against her cheeks, his mind was unraveling.

Why wasn’t she saying anything? Had he said too much?

When he couldn’t bear the silence any longer, his voice broke through it, raw and pleading. “Evie,” he whispered, his throat tightening around the name. “Please. Say something.”

Her breath hitched audibly, and she let out a shaky exhale before covering her mouth with one hand, her eyes darting away from his.

Sebastian’s stomach plummeted. Dread sank its claws into him, dragging him down into a pit of despair deeper than anything he’d ever known.

She’s upset. She’s hurt. I’ve ruined everything.

“I—” he started. “I didn’t mean to—”

Evangeline let out a shaky breath. “You—” Her voice wavered, muffled by her hand as she turned back toward him. Her eyes shimmered, not with rejection or anger, but with something else entirely. “You absolute idiot.”

Sebastian blinked, stunned. “What?”

Her hand dropped from her mouth, and she let out another incredulous, watery laugh, her chest heaving as she tried to collect herself. “You’re daft, Sebastian Sallow. Completely, utterly daft.”

“I—what?” He stared at her, his confusion mounting. This wasn’t what he had expected. Not even close.

Evangeline shook her head, her laughter breaking into a soft, almost broken sob, her expression an aching blend of joy and frustration. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this?” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. “For you to say these things? To finally hear what I’ve been hoping for?”

Sebastian stared at her, his mouth slightly open, completely unprepared for the torrent of words that followed.

“Years, Sebastian,” she continued, her voice cracking on the word as her emotions poured out, raw and unfiltered. “Years. I thought—I convinced myself—you’d never feel the same way. But then… then after the Prefect’s Bathroom, after the Equinox Ball…” She paused, her hazel eyes shimmering with unshed tears, her voice barely holding steady. “I let myself hope. I thought maybe… maybe there was a chance.”

Her breath hitched as she tried to steady herself, shaking her head as if fighting back against the weight of it all. “And all summer, I hoped that you’d say something, that you’d give me a sign.”

Her hands trembled as they cradled his face, her touch warm despite the cool edge of her desperation. “But you didn’t,” she whispered, her voice cracking again. “You never did, and the silence... well, I started doubting everything again, doubting us. It felt like… like I’d been foolish to hope at all.”

She let out a shaky laugh, her expression twisting with a mix of relief and pain. “That’s why I said yes to New Zealand. Because I thought… I thought this moment would never come. That I’d spend my whole life waiting for something that was never going to happen.”

Sebastian’s heart stuttered in his chest, her words crashing over him. For a moment, all he could do was stare at her, his breath caught somewhere between his lungs and his throat. Shock and relief warred within him, tangling with a sharp pang of guilt that twisted in his stomach.

“You’re serious?” he managed finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

Evangeline gave him a watery smile, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Merlin, yes, you idiot. I’m serious.”

Sebastian swallowed hard, shaking his head as the weight of her words crashed over him. "Evie..." he began, his voice hoarse and unsteady. Guilt clawed at his chest, raw and unrelenting. How had he been so blind? How had he let her believe, even for a moment, that there was no future here? No future with him? The thought that she had accepted New Zealand because she thought she had no other choice made his heart ache in ways he hadn’t thought possible.

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, the words spilling out with desperate urgency, his hands instinctively reaching for hers. His grip was firm but careful, his fingers curling gently around hers as though trying to hold her together—or maybe himself. “Evie, I’m so sorry. For making you wait. For not saying something sooner. For letting you think I didn’t—” His voice cracked, his throat tightening painfully as he searched for the words, his dark eyes locked onto hers with a kind of raw intensity.

“For letting you doubt, even for a second, how much I feel for you,” he continued, his voice trembling. “You’re right—I’m an idiot. I’ve been an idiot for years. But I—”

And then she leaned in.

Her lips were soft against his, warm and urgent, like she’d been holding herself back for far too long and couldn’t bear another second of restraint. The moment their mouths met, Sebastian’s usually sharp mind went scattering, his thoughts fracturing like glass under the weight of this impossible, beautiful reality. She was kissing him—Evangeline was kissing him.

The fantasies he’d conjured in stolen moments—before sleep, during quiet spells when he let himself hope—were pale, fragile things compared to this. His imaginings had never been able to capture the way her lips moved against his, how soft and inviting they were, or the way she tasted, faintly of lake water, a whisper of salt from her tears, and something so distinctly her that he knew he’d crave it for the rest of his life. Nothing had prepared him for the feel of her body against his, warm and yielding, her curves fitting against him so perfectly it made his heart stutter.

His fingers slid into her hair, threading through the damp strands as he gently tilted her head. His lips found hers with a tenderness that felt almost sacred, parting them with a care that spoke of quiet devotion. She met him with equal fervor, her lips moving against his in a rhythm that felt like a rediscovered melody—unfamiliar, yet instinctively known, like a song he’d been waiting his entire life to hear. The world around them melted away, the lake, the trees, the cool whisper of the night air all fading into insignificance. There was only her. Only this. Only them.

When they finally broke apart, it was only because their lungs demanded it. Their foreheads came to rest against each other, their breaths mingling in soft, uneven gasps. Sebastian’s eyes fluttered open, his gaze locking onto hers.

Her hazel eyes were wide, the moonlight catching on the unshed tears that lingered there. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen and slightly parted, and the sight of her—so close, so vulnerable, so achingly real—took his breath away all over again. She looked beautiful, painfully, heartbreakingly beautiful, and he couldn’t stop himself.

"I'm in love with you, Evangeline." he whispered, his voice rough and uneven. "I always have been."

She let out a soft, breathless laugh, her lips curving into the faintest smile as her fingers lightly traced the line of his jaw. "I'm in love with you too."

Sebastian let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, his heart hammering against his ribcage as her words settled over him. It was almost too much to process, and yet it wasn’t enough—

“Say it again,” he murmured, his voice low, almost pleading.

Evangeline’s smile widened slightly, her hazel eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and tenderness. “I’m in love with you, Sebastian Sallow,” she repeated, her voice firmer now, more certain. “Utterly, hopelessly in love with you.”

A low laugh, more like a sigh of relief, escaped his lips, willing the air between them with something soft, something that felt impossibly fragile and yet unshakably certain.

“I don’t deserve you,” he admitted quietly, his voice raw. “Not after everything I’ve put you through. But Evangeline, I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever.”

Her hands moved to his wrists, her fingers curling lightly around them as she leaned into his touch. “You don’t get to decide what you deserve, Sebastian,” she said softly, though there was steel beneath her words. “That’s for me to decide. And I’ve already decided I’m yours. If you’ll have me.”

“If I’ll have you?” he repeated, his lips quirking into a faint smile as he tilted her chin up slightly, his dark eyes searching hers. “Evie, I’ve been yours since the moment I met you.”

A soft laugh bubbled from her lips, the sound light and full of something that felt achingly like relief. Before he could say anything else, before he could even begin to process the sheer joy of hearing her laugh like that, she kissed him again, softer, slower, as though they finally had all the time in the world.

She fit so perfectly against him, her body pressing into his like it had always belonged there. Every sigh, every shift of her weight, sent warmth coursing through him, settling low in his abdomen and making him ache with need. He couldn’t think, couldn’t form a single coherent thought beyond her.

And when they finally broke apart again, Sebastian pressed a kiss to her temple, lingering there as he whispered, “Stay.”

Her breath hitched, and she pulled back just enough to look at him. “Stay?” she echoed.

“Here. With me. Don’t go to New Zealand,” he said, his voice steadier now, his hands tightening gently on her waist. “We’ll figure it out. Whatever the Muldoons throw at us, whatever comes next—we’ll face it together. Just... stay, Evangeline. Please."

Her gaze searched his, the uncertainty flickering in her eyes softening into something calmer, something resolute. She nodded, her hands brushing against his jaw again as she whispered, “Okay.”

Sebastian’s chest swelled. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against him as if to make sure she was truly there, truly his. The lake shimmered in the moonlight beside them, but all Sebastian could see, all he could feel, was her.

FINALLY IT HAPPENED. FINALLY. TIME TO CELEBRATE. THEY DID IT. THEY STOPPED BEING SO STUPID.

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

Read on AO3

Gryffindor Divider Credit Support Divider Credit

47 notes · View notes