#crown of midnight style

[acourtofquestions]

Celaena Sardothien would LIVE for the Folklore Eras dresses

[zehrahq]

tag dump.

[aeralux]

"My Sweet Little Niece" - Daemon Targaryen

Summary: You foolishly thought that no one would find you pleasuring yourself in the midnight hours...

Warnings: SMUT; typical targcest (reader is Daemon's niece and it is mentioned a LOT); use of the terms 'uncle' and 'niece' during sex; degradation (slut, whore etc.); light spanking (like one/two spanks); doggy style; quite rough sex (but both like it); breeding kink (Daemon finishes inside reader); dirty talk (use of the words cunt and such)

Notes: Reader is Daemon's niece (Rhaenyra's sister) and has white hair, but nothing else is specified. No specific time frame or mention of marriages/other relationships.

Words: 4.2k

-- aera xx

As Daemon Targaryen paces the cold, stone floors of the council room in Dragonstone, his footsteps echo softly against the walls, a rhythmic cadence that punctuates the heavy silence of the chamber. The room is austere yet grand, its walls adorned with tapestries depicting the sigil of House Targaryen — a three-headed dragon — woven in threads of crimson and gold. Tall windows line one side of the chamber, their panes frosted with a thin layer of ice, allowing slivers of pale winter moonlight to filter into the room and cast ethereal patterns upon the floor.

As Daemon's thoughts whirl in the chill air, his attention is suddenly drawn to quiet sighs and moans from a nearby bedchamber.

The castle was asleep at this hour, and it possibly couldn’t be a maid. Curiousness got the better of Daemon, and he went to investigate against his better judgment.

Once he reached the source of the sound, he smirked to himself. Of course. Who else could it be besides his sweet niece? Acting all innocent and loving before the eyes of the court and making sounds like a whore from the Silk Streets during the night.

He wondered who the lucky man between her plush thighs could be. Was it Aemond, or perhaps Aegon? What if it was Helaena, and this was the only time the two girls could show their desire for one another?

Already starting to walk away, something stopped him. The hardness in his breeches made it uncomfortable to move. He sighed and wiped across his face to compose himself.

Daemon needed to see. He needed to see his niece being pleasured by whoever it was. Be it a knight or a maid. Agonisingly slowly, he pulled open your door. Making sure no sounds betrayed his presence.

At first, you didn’t even notice his intrusion, too lost in the pleasure of two fingers circling your clit and two in your tight hole knuckles deep. But once you heard the familiar creak of the venerable wooden door, its aged hinges announcing a timeless entrance, your head instinctively snapped up. The air around you shifted, thick with expectation.

"Uncle Daemon!" you exclaimed, hastily pulling the sheets up to cover your bare form beneath. "I…I didn't expect you!"

You could feel the heat of embarrassment rising to your cheeks, mixed with a twinge of annoyance at having your private moment interrupted. Your long silver-white hair was tousled against the pillow, strands clinging to your sweat-dampened skin.

"I was just…" you fumbled for an excuse, your voice trailing off lamely. There was no hiding the truth - you had been caught in the throes of self-indulgence, fingers buried knuckle-deep inside your dripping cunny as you imagined being taken roughly by one of the handsome young knights in service to the crown.

Your mind raced as you tried to find the right words to explain yourself, but your tongue felt heavy and clumsy in your mouth. You knew that your actions were scandalous, especially for a highborn lady of House Targaryen, but you couldn't help the thrill of excitement that ran down your spine at the thought of being caught in such a compromising position.

Your fingers were still buried deep inside your sopping wet cunny, the evidence of your shameful desires dripping down your thighs and staining the fine silk sheets beneath you. The air was thick with the musky scent of your arousal, mingling with the faint smell of lavender that clung to your skin from your earlier bath.

Daemon's eyes widened slightly at the sight before him, his gaze flickering over your dishevelled form and the obvious signs of your recent activities. For a moment, he was struck dumb, caught off guard by the raw, primal desire that radiated from his niece's body like a physical force. He could feel his cock stirring to life in his breeches, thickening and hardening as he drank at the sight of you.

But then his training kicked in, and Daemon schooled his features into a mask of stern disapproval. He crossed the room in a few long strides, the heavy tread of his boots muffled by the plush carpet. Leaning down, he grasped your wrist firmly and withdrew your fingers from between your thighs, ignoring the way you gasped at the sudden loss of stimulation.

"Darling," he said, his voice low and cold. "What in the seven hells are you doing, girl? Playing with yourself like some common whore? Is this how you spend your nights, indulging in base carnal desires?"

His grip on your wrist tightened, and he brought your hand up to his face, pressing your fingers against his lips. The taste of your arousal exploded on his tongue, sweet and musky and utterly intoxicating. Daemon's eyes fluttered closed for a moment, savouring the flavour of his niece's essence.

"You're a Targaryen," he growled, releasing her wrist and straightening up. "You should know better than to give in to such shameful appetites. Especially not with your uncle standing right outside your door."

Despite his harsh words, there was an undercurrent of something else in Daemon's tone - a dark, simmering heat that belied his stern exterior. He could feel the pulse of his own need, throbbing in his loins and demanding to be satisfied. The sight of you sprawled out across her bed, flushed and wanton and ready to be taken, was almost more than he could bear.

Daemon took a step back, putting some distance between them. He raked a hand through his golden locks, trying to calm his growing hunger for you.

Your heart raced as you watched Daemon lick your essence from his fingers, his eyes closing in bliss as he savoured the taste. The sight sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through your veins, and you couldn't help but spread your thighs wider, inviting him to take a closer look at your dripping cunny.

The guilt that churned in your stomach was nothing compared to the raw, primal desire that consumed you. You had done far worse things behind closed doors, indulged in darker, more forbidden pleasures. This was merely a taste of the debauchery that coursed through your veins.

“Daemon," you breathed, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation. "Please, don't be angry with me. I… I couldn't help myself. The need was too great, too overwhelming to ignore."

You batted your eyelashes at him, hoping to soften his stern demeanour with an innocent, pleading look. You knew the power of your beauty, the way men were drawn to you like moths to a flame. It was a gift, one you had learned to wield like a weapon.

"You're the only one who truly understands me," you continued, your words dripping with honey.

As you spoke, you reached out with trembling fingers, tracing the hard planes of Daemon's chest through his shirt. You could feel the heat of his skin beneath the fabric, the steady thrum of his heartbeat. It called to you, urging you to press herself against him.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you awaited Daemon's response, your dripping sex exposed to his piercing gaze. You could feel the weight of his stare like a physical touch, sending shivers of anticipation down your spine. The vulnerability you felt at that moment was both terrifying and exhilarating, a heady mix of fear and desire that made your head spin.

Daemon's eyes darkened as he drank in the sight of your glistening folds, his nostrils flaring as he caught the intoxicating scent of your arousal. He could feel his cock straining against the confines of his breeches, throbbing with the need to bury itself inside your tight, wet heat.

He took a step closer, looming over your prone form on the bed. "You're playing a dangerous game, little one," he growled, his voice low and rough with barely contained lust. "Teasing me like this, exposing yourself to me. Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"

Your breath caught in your throat as Daemon reached out, his fingers grazing along the soft skin of your inner thigh. You could feel the calluses on his hands, the strength in his grasp as he slowly inched higher and higher, until his touch was mere inches away from your aching core.

"I… I wanted you to see," you whispered, your voice trembling with need. Although it wasn’t entirely true, you did still however want him to take you. And with these sweet words, he would cave in no time.

Daemon's eyes flashed with a dangerous light, his jaw clenching as he fought to maintain control over his raging desires. He knew that what he was about to do was wrong, a betrayal of every moral code. But the temptation was too great to resist, the allure of his niece's forbidden fruit too powerful to deny.

With a low, animalistic growl, Daemon surged forward, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. He plundered your mouth with his tongue, claiming you, possessing you, marking you as his own. One hand tangled in your long, silver hair, tugging it.

You moaned into the kiss. It was like a siren's call, luring Daemon further into the depths of depravity. With a growl, he allowed himself to be pulled onto the bed, his muscular body covering yours as he claimed your mouth with renewed hunger. His hands roamed over your curves, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh like a man possessed.

Your fingers scrabbled at Daemon's linen shirt, desperate to feel the heat of his skin. You tugged impatiently at the fabric, breaking the kiss just long enough to yank the garment over his head and toss it aside. Your eyes widened at the sight of his toned chest, marred only by a few silvery scars from battles long past.

"By the gods, Uncle," she gasped, your hands greedily exploring the planes of his back and shoulders. "You're so strong."

Daemon's lips curled into a smirk as he ground his hips against yours, letting you feel the hard length of his cock straining against the confines of his breeches. "And you, my little girl, are a temptress beyond compare," he growled, nipping at your earlobe. "So soft, so ripe, so ready to be plucked."

Your back arched off the bed as Daemon trailed his lips down the column of your throat, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just above your collarbone. You could feel the heat pooling in your belly, the ache between your thighs growing more intense with each passing second.

"Please, Daemon," you whimpered, your hips rocking against his in a primal rhythm. "I need you, I need to feel you inside me, filling me, claiming me."

Daemon's eyes flashed with a dangerous light, his control hanging by a thread. With a low growl, he captured your lips once more, swallowing your moans as he reached down and tore at the laces of his breeches. His cock sprang free, thick and hard and throbbing with need.

Your eyes widened as you took in the impressive sight of Daemon's manhood, your breath catching in your throat at the sheer size of him. You had always known that your uncle was a proud, confident man, but now you understood the true source of his cockiness. His cock was a work of art, thick and veiny and pulsing with an almost palpable hunger.

Unable to resist, you reached out with a shaking hand, wrapping your fingers around the hot, velvety length. You licked your palm, spitting into it to provide some lubrication as you began to stroke him slowly, marvelling at the weight of him in your grasp.

Daemon let out a low, guttural moan as your hand moved along his shaft, his hips rocking into your touch. "Fuck, that's it," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Stroke me, princess. Show me what that clever little hand can do."

You smiled up at him, your eyes shining with wicked delight. You shimmied closer to him on the bed, watching with rapt attention as Daemon stood before you, his cock extending out obscenely from between his legs.

The blood coursed hot and heavy through Daemon's veins as you worked his shaft, your delicate fingers gliding over his throbbing flesh in a slow, torturous rhythm. He could feel every nerve ending screaming for more, for the tight, wet heat of your cunt wrapped around him.

"You like that, don't you?" You purred, your hand pumping faster, twisting your wrist on the upstroke. "You like feeling my hand on your big, hard cock. I bet you've dreamed of this, of fucking your sweet little niece, filling her up with your seed."

Daemon let out a feral snarl, his hips snapping forward as he fucked your hand, chasing the pleasure that only you could give him. "You have no idea what I've dreamed of," he growled, his eyes burning into yours. "What I've planned, what I'm going to do to this tight little body of yours."

"Mmh, yeah? Why don’t you tell me then?” Your words and actions grew bolder as you saw his reaction to your touch, your arousal gushing out of you at the erotic sight.

Your daring words and bold actions ignited a fire in Daemon's loins that threatened to consume you both. His cock throbbed and pulsed in your grasp as you started to tease the tip with your tongue, your lips forming a tight seal around his engorged head. The sight of his niece's pretty mouth stretched obscenely around his shaft sent a fresh surge of heat straight to his groin.

"Fuck, you filthy little minx," Daemon growled, his fingers tangling in your long silver hair. He tugged at it roughly, forcing you to take more of him into your hot, wet mouth. "You want to know what I'm going to do to you? I'm going to ruin you for any other man. I'm going to fuck you so hard, so deep, that you'll never be able to forget the feel of my cock inside you."

You moaned around his length, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through Daemon's body. You could feel the sticky wetness of her arousal coating your thighs, the musky scent of her desire mingling with the taste of his pre-cum on her tongue.

"Mmmph, yes Uncle Daemon," you slurred, your words muffled by his thick cock filling your mouth. "Ruin me, use me, make me yours. I want to feel you in every inch of me."

"That's it," he growled, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock deeper into your warm mouth, throbbing. "Take it all, baby girl. Take every inch of your uncle's big, hard cock."

You moaned around him, the sound sending shivers down Daemon's spine. You relaxed your throat, allowing him to slide deeper until the head of his cock was bumping against the back of your throat. Your nose nestled in the thick, wiry curls at the base of his shaft, inhaling the musky, masculine scent of him.

"Gods, you're a natural," Daemon praised, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his release. "Such a good little cocksucker, so eager to please your uncle."

Your eyes fluttered closed, lost in the haze of pleasure as you worked Daemon's cock with your mouth and hand. You could feel the heavy weight of it on your tongue, the pulsing heat of it against the roof of your mouth.

Daemon's eyes flashed with a dangerous light, his breath coming in short, sharp pants as he fought to maintain control. He could feel the pressure building in his balls, the urge to bury himself to the hilt in your tight, dripping cunt becoming more and more overwhelming with each passing second.

"Enough," he snarled, yanking you off his cock with a lewd pop. "I can't take it anymore. I need to be inside you, need to feel you wrapped around me like a vice."

With a swift, brutal movement, Daemon flipped you onto your hands and knees, kicking your legs apart to expose the glistening folds of your sex.

The sudden shift in position caused you to let out a surprised yelp. You felt Daemon's strong hands grip your hips, lifting your rear end high in the air. You instinctively arched your back, presenting yourself to him like a bitch in heat. The cool air of the bedchamber kissed your bare flesh, sending goosebumps racing across your skin.

The depraved display sent a bolt of pure lust through Daemon's veins, his cock twitching with the need to claim you, to make you his in the most primal way possible.

"Gods, you're a vision," Daemon growled appreciatively, his emerald eyes roaming hungrily over your upturned ass and dripping cunny. "So wet and ready for me already."

He gave you a sharp smack on the rump, relishing the way you jolted and let out a gasp. The reddening handprint on your skin looked deliciously obscene.

"That's it, present yourself to your uncle like a good little whore," he commanded, lining up his swollen cockhead with your entrance. "Show me how much you need my cock filling this greedy little cunt."

You moaned wantonly, reaching back with one hand to spread herself open for him. Your puffy folds glistened with arousal, practically begging to be stuffed full. The shame of what you were doing only served to heighten your arousal, the taboo nature of your relationship sending electric thrills down your spine.

"Please, Uncle Daemon," you begged, your voice high and needy. "I need you inside me, stretching me, filling me up. I'll do anything, be anything you want me to be."

Daemon let out a low, appreciative chuckle as he stepped up behind you, his large hands gripping your hips with bruising force. "Anything, hmm? We'll see about that."

Without warning, he slammed his cock into you, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. You screamed in ecstasy, your walls clenching around him like a vice as he filled you.

"Fuck, you're tight," Daemon grunted, his hips snapping against your ass as he set a punishing pace. "So fucking tight and wet for me, baby girl. Your little cunt was made for my cock."

You could only moan in response, your body rocking forward with each powerful thrust of Daemon's hips. The obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, mingling with your cries of pleasure and Daemon's grunts of exertion.

As Daemon pounded into you, one hand snaked around your waist, his fingers finding your swollen clit. He rubbed it roughly, the calloused pads of his fingers sending jolts of electricity through your body.

A broken sob escaped your lips as you felt his fingers rub tight circles around your swollen clit. Hips jerking from the stimulation.

"There she goes," Daemon growled, his fingers working your clit with merciless precision. "My sweet little niece, so responsive, so desperate for her uncle's touch."

You could only moan in response, your head hanging down, your long silver hair cascading over your shoulders. The wet, obscene sounds of your coupling filled the room, a lewd symphony of flesh slapping against flesh and the squelch of your dripping arousal.

You shivered at his praise, your body still humming with pleasure. Despite the shame that threatened to overwhelm you, you couldn't deny how much you had enjoyed being used so thoroughly.

Daemon angled his hips, hitting that sweet spot inside you with each powerful thrust. He could feel your velvety walls rippling around him, milking his cock for all it was worth.

As he looked down he could see a ring of white cream coating the base of his cock, your arousal so evident. He smirked to himself and sped up his pace, fucking you almost brutally.

Daemon's brutal pace showed no signs of slowing, his hips pistoning in and out of your tight heat with relentless force. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoed off the stone walls, mingling with your wanton moans and whimpers.

"Look at you," Daemon growled, his voice rough with lust. "My sweet little niece reduced to a mewling, cock-hungry slut. You love this, don't you? Love being used like a cheap whore, love having your uncle's cock stuffing your needy cunt."

You couldn't deny it, not with the way your body was responding to his harsh words and even harsher thrusts. Your back arched, pushing your hips back to meet him thrust for thrust, your nails digging into the fine linens beneath you.

Daemon's hand left your clit, moving up to fist a handful of your long silver hair. He yanked your head back, forcing you to look at him over your shoulder. His eyes were wild, burning with a primal hunger that sent shivers down your spine.

"Who does this cunt belong to?" he snarled, his voice a dark promise. "Who owns your pretty little body, baby girl?"

"You do," you gasped out, the words spilling from your lips unbidden. "It's all yours, Uncle Daemon. I'm yours."

"Damn right, you are," Daemon growled, releasing his grip on your hair to wrap his arms around your waist. He pushed you down onto your stomach and lifted your hips, shifting the angle of his thrusts to strike even deeper, harder, faster.

The new position had you seeing stars, your cries of pleasure resonating off the stone walls. Each thrust sent ripples of ecstasy through your body, your muscles clenching around him like a vice.

"Say it again," Daemon demanded, his voice strained. "Tell me who this pussy belongs to."

"You," you sobbed, your voice high and breathy. "It's yours, Daemon. All yours."

"That's right, baby girl," Daemon growled, his hips slamming into you with renewed vigour.

Your body was trembling beneath him on the silky sheets of your bed. Your tight hole spasming around Daemon's big cock, creaming all over his length. Like a bitch in heat you screamed in pleasure below him, cunt gripping him in a vice.

Daemon's grip tightened on your hips as he drove into you with pure animalistic lust, your cries of pleasure mixing with his grunts of exertion. Bed creaking beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each violent thrust. The feeling of your tight, dripping cunt spasming around him was almost too much to bear. Daemon could feel his release barreling towards him like a freight train, his balls drawing up tight against his body. The filthy sounds of your cries and the obscene squelch of your arousal filling the room only served to heighten his lust.

"That's it, princess," Daemon growled, his hand coming down on your ass in a sharp smack. "Take it all, take every inch of your uncle's big, hard cock."

You moaned wantonly, your hips bucking as he hit that sweet spot deep inside you. Your juices coated his shaft, easing the way as he pounded into you relentlessly.

"Uncle Daemon," you gasped, your voice strained with pleasure. "It's so good, so deep. Don't stop, please don't stop."

Daemon grinned savagely, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigour. He could feel the tension building in his lower belly, the tell-tale tingle in his spine that signalled his impending release.

"Oh, Gods! I'm gonna cum!" You managed to squeal into the sheets, tears starting to stream down your face from the intensity of his thrusts.

"Aw, fuck yes, you are," Daemon growled, his voice a dark promise. "Cum for me, baby girl. Cum all over your uncle's big, hard cock."

His hips snapped forward, driving his cock deep into your convulsing channel. Your cries of ecstasy filled the room, your body shaking with the force of your release.

You could feel your juices squirting out around Daemon's shaft, your inner muscles clenching and fluttering as you rode out the waves of your orgasm. It seemed to go on forever, your vision blurring at the edges, your mind numb from the sheer intensity of it all.

Daemon held you close, his arms wrapping around your trembling form as he continued to thrust into you, prolonging your pleasure. His release was fast approaching, his balls drawing up tight against his body.

"Fuck," he gasped, his voice strained. "Gonna fill you up, gonna pump you full of my seed. Gonna make you mine in every fucking way."

With a final, brutal thrust, Daemon buried himself to the hilt inside you, his cock pulsing as he spilt his hot seed deep within your womb. You could feel it, the way his thick, potent cum coated your inner walls, marking you as his.

As you both came down from your high, Daemon pulled out of you with a lewd pop. He flopped down onto the bed beside you, gathering you into his arms and pulling you close.

You rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat as you basked in the afterglow. Despite the taboo nature of your relationship, there was a rightness to being here with Daemon, a sense of belonging that you had never felt with anyone else.

[adonis-koo]

wicked • 20

↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader

↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut

Word Count: 11k

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tags: mastubation (m), strip tease, slight dub con??, handjob, overstimulation, humping, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink (oops), oral (m) & (f), 69ing (OOPS), slight pain kink,

note: this is way later then it was supposed to be...anywayysssss enjoy !!! :)

“How does it feel to be somewhere so familiar, Princess?” Wheein asked as she dressed you for the afternoon. 

You hummed as you let her continue to style your hair, “Familiar, but…different now. I was a young girl when I used to roam these halls, but I’m a grown woman now. I'm excited to see my parents, I hope they’ll be attending dinner tonight.” 

“It’s only a matter of time now,” Wheein hummed out as she tenderly braided and pinned your hair the way she wanted it, “I don’t mean to pry m’lady but…” She let out a soft giggle, “I can’t help but ask if you and the Prince are now…? Embracing your marriage?”

You couldn’t help but tense, you had tried really hard to be quiet at night but there were definitely a few moments you had been unsuccessful, “Was I loud?” you whispered in horror.

This made Wheein laugh in surprise, “So you’re embracing one another very well?”

You felt your face become hot at the realization that clearly you hadn’t been, but now you had ratted yourself out, “Just pretend I didn’t say that.” 

Wheein let out a soft giggle, “I’m happy for you both…After everything you both have been through, you deserve happiness together, you both have had to overcome a lot of things. Take pride in your relationship.” 

You gave a small smile in the mirror, “I appreciate your words Wheein. But enough of that, how are you fairing? You’ve never traveled outside of Penumbra before, right?”

Wheein nodded, “This is my first time, I’m nervous truthfully, something about it feels so…Heretical, but exciting…? I hope to be able to explore a little bit in the week we stay here.” 

This made you happy to hear, “Kimhae is very beautiful, I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunities to go into the capitol to explore.” 

Wheein grabbed the crown, onyx, the same you had worn to your formal dinner, it would be a constant here in Kimhae as a show of status along with your wedding ring that dawned your gloved hands. 

“Finished. You look beautiful.” Wheein smiled in satisfaction, “Is there anything else you would like before we escort you to dinner?” 

You shook your head, “Nothing, besides your company. I missed you terribly when you were away. And while I enjoy Jungkook’s presence, he is by no means good with feather and fuss the way you are.” 

This made Wheein chuckle, her nose scrunching in delight, “Nothing brings me more pride than being next to you both. I’ll let the others know you’re ready.” 

Jungkook had left the room a little while ago upon Yoongi requesting him outside the room to talk about something. 

Standing up you brushed the skirt of your dress of the few wrinkles that had formed from sitting. 

This was one of your favorite winter gowns, sheer gold fabric lining from your neckline to your chest, covered in precious gems and the fabric ran to your forearms but it was concealed by bigger dramatic puffy sleeves the same dark midnight blue color of your skirt. 

Stepping out of the room Jungkook and Yoongi had ceased their conversation at the sight of you, “I’m not interrupting am I?” 

“Of course not your Highness,” Yoongi bowed to you, “You’re just on time in fact.”

Jungkook sighed as he peered out the large windows to the darkened skies, “We’re late.” 

“All the best couples are.” You smiled as he offered his elbow out as you grabbed ahold of it, allowing him to lead you down the halls, navigating to the main hall where everyone would be celebrating, after all it was the Eve before Yule. 

“His Highness, Jeon Jungkook Crowned Prince of Penumbra and her Highness, Jeon Y/n Crowned Princess of Penumbra.” The caller announced as the doors opened. 

It seemed the jolly sight inside had frozen despite the music still playing, you couldn’t help but feel nervous with so many eyes on you, but squeezing the bicep of your husband made you realize you were not alone. 

His crown stood tall on his head, dawned in his finest black and gold silk robes for the occasion, he looked like the epitome of confidence and power, and as his wife, you wanted to be his mirror, a strength to him, not a weakness.

You straightened yourself a little, lifting your chin as you let him help you down each step, eyes following you everywhere as people began to whisper, but after having been on the cold gaze of the Penumbrian court, you had found you clearly had hardened yourself to the stares.

Not letting them bother you the way they may once have. 

And in the crowd, there were two familiar faces that you had missed so dearly, that did not look at you as if you were a killer, “Mother! Father!” You called out, excitement pushing away the previous feelings of uncertainty, having let go of Jungkook to greet your mother.

Her arms were wide open, eyes beaming with pride as you buried into her, the sweet smell of nectar dripping off her body, the warm comforting smell of home, “My sweet daughter,” She ushered out, pulling away as she grabbed your face, “My look how you’ve grown, she truly looks like a grown woman, no longer our little princess.”

“I couldn’t have hoped for a more lovely daughter to be our future queen of Penumbra,” Your father grinned softly as you mirrored him, immediately wrapping him in a hug next, “We’ve missed you greatly so our little sun.” 

You smiled at them adoringly only to feel the towering height behind you, standing at an awkward distance, turning around you gestured your love over, “Come Jungkook, don’t be a stranger.” You let out a soft endearing laugh, this only made him awkwardly shuffle a little closer.

Uncertain of where to look or how to greet, “Your Highnesses,” He gave a small formal bow. 

Your mother let a quirk of a pout tug on her lips, “No son-in-law of mine will greet me so formally, come.”

You and your father glanced at one another before sharing a laugh at Jungkook’s pupils widening a little before briefly glancing at you before he hesitated, arms acting stiff in the brief hug before immediately dropping back to his side. 

“Surely you’ve hugged this poor boy my dear,” Your mother sighed, watching with a certain pity on her face before turning to you, “He treats me as if I am something to be frightened of.” 

Jungkook’s lips parted but you spoke before him, “We’ve embraced plenty, Jungkook is an introvert by nature,” You couldn’t help the affectionate smile tug on your lips as you placed yourself back at his side, arms wrapping back around his, “He doesn’t fair well with social events.”

“I can hold my own.” Jungkook muttered with a puff of his chest. 

“Don’t let their teasing get to you,” Your father chuckled, “I’ve never been one for social events either, Esme has always been the butterfly of us both.” 

“Oh don’t flatter me.” Your mother rolled her eyes playfully, “Come, let us sit, you must try the wine.” You let your mother lead the way as you all sat down at the large table, your eyes searching the massive party only for them to suddenly lock onto Seokjin’s, halfway across the room.

He appeared sulky, empty wine glass in hand and in a circle of aristocrats talking and he clearly was not paying attention, his gaze set solely on you. You blinked, immediately looking away as you smiled at the cup bearer, pouring you a large glass of wine. 

Taking a long sip you hummed in delight, “Eunoian?” 

“Imported,” Your mother smiled with love, “Kimhae has always been too tart for my taste.” 

“Tart and a twinge of sour,” Jungkook’s nose wrinkled, “They never let their wine ferment long enough.” 

This immediately had your mother’s attention, a fellow wine lover, you couldn’t help but grin at the sight as she immediately began to complain with him and as she got him talking, Jungkook slowly but surely relaxed as he began his second glass of wine. 

“Come, walk with me Y/n,” Your father smiled, shaking his head at the sight of the other two engrossed in gossip of Kimhae, who would’ve thought Jungkook would get on so well with your mother? 

The wine was certainly helping all the same. 

“I would love nothing more,” You smiled as you stood up, taking your father’s arm as you both began to walk, “How has Eunoia been? I’ve missed it terribly…” 

Your father gave you a soft smile, while you had always been undoubtedly close to your mother but… due to her dryad blood, she had always been harder on you as a child, making sure you stuck to your rigorous schedule.

There were many days when she was the source of your tears, but your father? He was nothing but soft for you, always sneaking you sweet treats at night and on the days you would weep, he would read you stories until you fell asleep. 

His love was always so soft, barely detectable but you could always feel it through the trepidations of your childhood. 

“We are doing well, with the protection Penumbra has given us, we’ve dealt with much less bandit raids, our crops no longer plucked over. Your presence has been an irreplaceable void though.” Your father hummed out, “The throne room hasn’t looked quite right since you left, Arielle never had the straightest cut.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you rolled your eyes, “Don’t say that too loud- lest she hear it all the way from Eunoia and kill all the foliage off in spite…Is she…” You sighed, you supposed you shouldn’t indulge the gossiping part of your brain, it was only a childhood rivalry, you were a grown woman now, those things should stay in the past. 

Your father however seemed to know exactly what you were saying, “There is talk,” He mused, “She does not have dryad blood though.”

“Perhaps that is for the best,” You murmured softly, your father peering at you in curiosity as you spoke softly, “Perhap it is time for Eunoia to leave our lesser human nature in the past?”

Your father hummed, “What has you thinking such thoughts, my little sun?” 

“...My stay in Penumbra has not been an easy one, I won’t deny it,” You murmured quietly, “I’ve suffered many trials and tribulations, the dryad inside me has proven to be very hard to contain…”

This made your father laugh, surprisingly, “So was your mother’s, her nature still can be from time to time.” 

“I just don’t understand, even after all these years. We strive for peace and yet all I want is war,” You frowned, troubled once more, “I want nothing more than to wrong those who have wronged me. And I hate it, revenge has a bitter taste.” 

“It’s an inherent nature,” Your father replied, tapping your arm comfortingly, “It’s inside all of us, you are inclined moreso from the polarized nature of a dryad. The beautiful thing about it is that we cannot have life without death. Your mother was never the best at explaining it,”

He sighed wistfully, as if accepting this about his wife, “But it always seemed to me that as a dryad, your duty is to balance it, not strive for one or the other. The giver and taker of life, it may run through your blood but you are not a god Y/n, it is not your calling to be one or the other. But I’ve always seen great things in you. I’ve always felt you’ve been called to mediate the conflict of the giver and taker, give life where it is needed, death when it is warranted. These things are scary when we’ve been taught only one is right, but it is not impossible.”

Dead eyes flashed in your mind, your grip on your father’s arm tightening a little as you took a long breath, “Then why is it I always seem to only bring death?” 

Your father frowned, a sad look in his eyes, “You were but a child Y/n, too young to be put in the tents, but your mother was insistent. Death is the only thing guaranteed in life, we must all face it eventually, some sooner than others. This is the way it is meant to be, you did the best with what you were taught.”

You stared at the ground before you murmured, “And…what if…I broke my vow…? What if I had taken a life on purpose?” 

Your father paused, slowly his eyes lingered on your figure, your expression was full of sorrow and lament, he tenderly brushed your shoulders, “My words would remain the same, you were never meant to uphold one value or the other. I trust you would never do something rash, if it were not called for.”

You both began to walk once more and for a long moment you thought of his words before you were plagued by a forgotten thought, “I’ve heard….stirrings, rumors.” 

“In the beast itself?” Your father laughed, “Do tell.”

“Rumors that…” You lowered your voice, “Eunoia is building an army…?” 

Your father paused in somewhat surprise, “Really now?” He paused thoughtfully, “Well, I suppose it would seem that way.” 

“But it isn’t?” You raised your brows hoping that it certainly was not what it seemed. 

“Did you know that the dryad’s were not just healers?” Your father gave you a knowing smile, “But they were also warriors, it was said they were gifted with the sight of knowing, shooting arrows that could hit even targets from miles away. We have decided to take up the divine dryad’s way of Archery- a form of weaponry, in honor of Penumbra for the Rite of Peace.” 

You paused…archery…? Everything made so much more sense suddenly, and it dawned on you that while you knew much about Eunoia, you still had so much more to learn about your ancestors. 

“I…I love that Eunoia has decided to pick this back up in honor of Penumbra,” You gave a small smile, somewhat relieved, “Jungkook will be thrilled to hear this.” 

“Ah…” Your father hummed, “And I do assume your husband has been treating you well?”

Your nod became somewhat shy, “We didn’t speak the first month but…well circumstances arose that no longer allowed us to hate one another…And somehow, we…began to understand one another? Misunderstandings truly are the root of hate aren’t they?” 

“Hate makes all of us blind to the reality of life, nothing is fair, nobody is ever truly free, we all have our burdens and trepidations to bear, not one better than the other. When we embrace intentional kinship, to set aside our differences, and truly learn from one another with compassion and understanding, we are at our strongest…”

Your father hummed before he looked at you for a long moment, “Though it has not been long, you seem older now…Wiser, patient…You both suit one another very well.” Your father praised. 

“I would’ve hated those words once upon a time but…” You gave a satisfied hum, “You are right, I couldn’t think of another person I’d want as my husband.” 

The evening went on, you and your father had many people come and socialize with you both, many royals and aristocrats alike wanting to know about Penumbra, about the Wicked Prince, about the tall tales that came from its lands. 

You indulged none, and left everything vague, giving only knowing smiles and cryptic words, after all knowledge was a currency of its own for royals. 

It was well past midnight by the time you and your father had arrived back at the banquet table to find your partners well past the point of sobriety, your mother and Jungkook sharing a loud boisterous laugh as he cackled, “I wish you had seen it, the sword went flying out of his hand and the look on his face was that of a child.”

“Oh come now Jungkook he can barely hold a cup with two hands let alone a sword!” Your mother cackled out, near empty cup in hand. 

“It seems we’ve made our timely arrival,” Your father let out a soft sigh as he shook his head, “Come now Esme, let us not insult our host’s family too loud,” He pulled her chair out offering an arm to her, “We ought get you to bed.” 

“I agree,” You replied, standing next to your husband’s chair where he was slightly slumped, crown crooked on his head, “We should retire, my love.” You leaned down, fixing his crown back straight. 

His hand caught yours as he pressed an amorous kiss against the palm of your gloved hand and a silly little smirk on his face, “If that’s what my goddess wishes.” 

You felt your face becoming hot at his words, clearly the liquor making him much more boldly flirtatious then he would typically be in a public space. 

Jungkook stood up only to wobble a little, you immediately grabbed his arm, not offering as much support as you wished, but you only needed to get him as far as Yoongi, who was coolly leaning back against the wall, arms crossed and eyes scanning the room. 

You waved Yoongi over, his eyes immediately catching your figure as he pushed off the wall, “Can you please get Jungkook back to our room?” You asked.

“Of course, Wheein will escort you back then I presume?” Yoongi asked and you nodded, with that he took your husband back though not without complaint of you not being by his side. 

You only smiled briefly only for your vision to be blocked by your mother, grabbing you with an adoring look on her face, very clearly drunk, “While I had my reservations about him, you both make a lovely couple Y/n,” You giggled softly at this as she continued, “And hopefully you’ll make even lovelier grandchildren for me.” 

“Grand children!?” You nearly choked on your words.

Grandchildren…? 

“Now, now Esme, leave her be, that is their business,” Your father tutted, “Goodnight Y/n, we shall see you in the morning…Or at the very least I will see you in the morning.” 

You waved goodbye but your mind was fried at her words…children…You…you hadn’t even thought of children, which was incredibly stupid given the amount of unholy sex you were currently having, with absolutely no regard of how many times your husband emptied himself inside you. 

Your hand ghosted over your stomach as you wondered, what if you were pregnant? It was a brief thought with no actual evidence to back it up. 

But the idea of blue eyed, dark haired children running around suddenly filled your heart with so much joy, you could hardly continue the girlish smile you had, children…Surely Jungkook wanted children, right? 

You pressed your lips together in uncertainty, being the heir to the throne meant it was an expectation but…You didn’t want to bear his children if he wouldn’t share the love he had with you to them. 

It was late and you supposed these were conversations you would need to have at a later date with him, sooner than later given just how fast you both had been going. 

You called Wheein over as you both exited the party.

The hallways were dark and you had just reached the end when a voice called out, “Y/n…” 

Wheein frowned as you both paused, turning around as you noticed the lone figure at the other end of the hall, Seokjin…Wheein briefly looked at you with a quirked brow. 

“Seokjin, my apologies for not greeting you at the party, I was catching up with my parents.” You called out as he approached you.

“Nevermind that,” He offered an easy, charming smile, “I know how much you’ve missed them, but…I’d like to speak to you, alone…”

Wheein shifted immediately, not liking this one bit as she stared at the foreigner, briefly looking at you once more, and you could tell she didn’t like this, “It’s late Seokjin, I was just getting ready to retire for bed…”

“Indulge me, just for a moment.” Seokjin asked, holding a hand out to you. 

You stared down at his palm, and for the first time you noticed the lack of calluses on his hands, his skin incredibly soft, “...Very well, where would you have us speak?”

“Just up ahead, in my office, your maid may go I will-”

“My maid will stay just outside the office,” You cut him off, Wheein giving a curt nod at your words, “Lead along, I do not have all night.” 

Seokjin frowned, eyes lingering warily on Wheein just as her’s did, almost as if sizing one another up before he walked ahead of you both and turned off onto a hall before he stopped, it was vague but you did remember being in his office a few times. 

He stepped inside as Wheein whispered out, “Will you be okay m’lady?” 

“I’ll scream if I’m not.” You gave her a reassuring smile before you stepped inside, closing the door behind you. 

It all came at once, the sudden feeling of invading your personal space, his body pressing into yours and his hands wrapping around you, “Oh my love,” He whispered out, “You’ve become a marvelous actress, but you should be taking my lead to not make things more difficult for us.” 

Your body immediately tensed, these were not the arms you were used to being wrapped around you, and these were not the lips of your husband against your ear.

Seokjin pressed his forehead into yours just as swiftly as you were pushing him away, “I am no actress, what is the meaning of this Seokjin?” 

Seokjin’s lips slowly curled into a frown at the evident step you took away from him, a safe distance between you both clearly feeling like a rift for him, “I’m here for you.” He spoke quietly, “Albeit he wasn’t supposed to be here but we can make this work, some plans will simply have to be altered.” 

You blinked several times, “Plans…?” 

Seokjin nodded, a smile slowly curling on his lips once more as he took your hands into his, “We can talk more about it later, but just know that we will be reunited once more Y/n, it’s been sickening…watching the way he drags you around as if you are nothing more then some doll, his hands touching what is not his.” 

Your stare hardened as you slowly shook your head before letting out a long sigh, “I’m sorry Seokjin, it seems I was not clear last time we spoke.” Though you felt as if you distinctly remember being perfectly clear, “We are no longer an item, we have not been since the day before my wedding.” 

Seokjin shook his head, as if he was in denial, “I have been biding my time for you my love, the days I’ve ached for you, touched myself to you. You can’t seriously tell me you have not yet felt the same?” 

He was staring at you expectantly but you were at a loss for words, because while yes a part of you had mourned him the first few weeks of your stay, but after a month Jungkook had become a bigger part of your thoughts with each day, and Seokjin becoming so obscure that you no longer even thought of him unless it was prompted in conversation. 

“I’m sorry Seokjin,” It was a genuine apology, “But I cut ties for a reason, I’ve only come to Yule to see my parents and nothing more. I do want you to rest easy…I am very happy in Penumbra, and Jungkook does not treat me like a doll he…” You stared at your gloved hands, “Jungkook loves and respects me for who I am, what I am capable of. And his hands touch me as if I am his, because I am. There is no other man I want to belong to.”

Seokjin slowly shook his head and it made you wince a little. He was taking this harder than you had assumed he would, perhaps because you had assumed your relational ties had been officially cut. 

You assumed there might have been a forlorn sort of pining from him, mourning what could have been, but to have this delusion that you both were still romantic lovers was an entirely different subject. 

“You don’t mean it Y/n,” He took a step closer to you, hand grabbing your waist making you jolt, “I don’t know what they’ve done to you, but you’ve been brainwashed. Turned blind to their hedonistic ways. You are not the Dryad Princess I know.”

“If they are heathens,” You shoved his hand away from you, “Then I’m afraid I was never going to be good enough for you, for if they are heathens then I cannot imagine what I must be in comparison. I am far more than a Dryad Princess, you say you no longer know me, but it only shows me just how little you actually knew me. I value the time we had together Seokjin, but I love Jungkook. He is my husband and I am proud to be his wife and it will remain this way. Goodnight.” 

You promptly closed the door behind you as Wheein straightened up from her fretting state, you gave her a tense but attempted comforting smile, “Come let us go Wheein.” You ushered softly as she nodded. 

After a long quiet trip through the halls she finally asked, “It’s not my business but I can’t help but ask m’lady…what was that about?”

You shook your head, “Some things must die slower than others I suppose.” You stopped at your door just where Taehyun walked out from exasperatedly. 

“His Majesty is still awake, just a forewarning.” Was all Taehyun said and that was all you needed to know.

“You both are dismissed, I doubt we’ll need any help tonight. And do take the early morning to yourselves, Jungkook will definitely need to rest until mid morning.” You offered a weak smile as they both nodded, perhaps knowing but saving you the embarrassment.

After taking their leave you stepped into your room, lit only by firelight as you quietly shut the door, “So my pretty wife finally shows her presence.” Jungkook was leaning against the bed frame, slumped once more, terribly drunk. 

You offered a gentle smile, the tension that had been in your body slowly melting due to his warm presence you had become so familiar with, “So I am here; I did not mean to make you wait so long.” You were in no rush to the bed as you slowly walked over to your vanity, pulling the gloves from your hands and taking the shoes off your feet.

Setting your crown on top of the empty pillow and taking off your jewelry as you felt his eyes burning into your back before you finally approached him.

“What held you up?” Jungkook’s eyes lazily dragged over your body, sitting on the side of the bed as his feet planted on the ground, hands reaching out for your waist, “You were supposed to help bring me back.” 

Your smile became just a little shy as your hands settled on top of his, the warm comfort it brought such a stark contrast to what Seokjin had attempted to replicate, “I got caught up, but I’m here now. Help me?” 

You turned around as Jungkook stood up, a little wobbly and maybe not the best with his fingers at the moment but he managed to get your dress undone as it fell to the ground, you still had your slip on underneath, it wasn’t meant for sleeping but it was comfortable enough that it would do. 

You plucked the dress from the ground before tossing it, the fabric catching on the chair at your vanity before you turned around to face him once more.

You couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped you at the dilation in his eyes, his tongue swiping over his lip feverishly, “Was it him?” 

Your brows lifted a little in somewhat surprise and that gave him everything he needed to know, his jaw clenching a little as his hands tightened down to your hips, “Saw the way he was looking at you, as if you belong to him.”

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you whispered, “But I am yours. You shouldn’t worry about him.” Tomorrow, you would tell him what had happened, but tonight, you wanted to rest with your husband and let him sleep off his liquor. 

Jungkook’s nose buried into the crook of your neck before his lips began to press into your skin, and you were quickly beginning to realize this was a telltale sign, his hands roaming your sides before curling around the material of your slip. 

“Lay down,” You whispered, “You’re drunk.” 

“I’m sober enough,” Jungkook replied with a moan into your skin, “Indulge me, light of my life, you say you’re mine, but I need you to show me. Need you wrapped around my cock.” 

His moans against your skin was tantalizingly difficult to say no when he laid back against the bed, pulling his pants down to reveal his fat cock bobbing to his abdominal as he wrapped his hand around it tight, eyes staring at you with a lazy heat as he slowly began to stroke his shaft. 

You couldn’t stop the pout on your lips as your arousal immediately pressed into your panties, “You’re drunk Jungkook…” 

“Mmm, I can be drunk and have my cock rode.” He replied, his hips stuttering a little as they lifted into his fist, his cock squeezing through as he moaned, “Do you not see how desperate I am for you? Don’t deny me now.”

Precum was beading against his slit as you slowly pushed your slip up, letting your panties drop as he moaned his hand pumping his cock all the way up to his bulbous head before squeezing it all the way back down, “Fuuck, that’s a good girl, show me those pretty tits.” 

Slowly you peeled the slip up your body, one inch at a time as Jungkook’s hand eagerly worked his cock, eyes lidded as he moaned, watching the fabric tease just below your bust, ‘Don’t tease me now.” 

You pulled it up, your tits bouncing as he swore, fist pumping his cock furiously as you pushed it over your head before letting it hit the ground, “Nee’ you Y/n, mmm, need your warm cunt.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how whiney he was at the moment, getting up on the bed you straddling his thighs as he moaned his hand slowing down to lethargically stroke his cock, eyes trailing up and down your exposed body.

Leaning down a little you couldn’t help but curiously wrap your hand around his base, his stroking paused as he released his own grip, “Mmm, stroke it.” 

You couldn’t help but feel a little shy, it was so thick and heavy in your hand, “How do you like it?” You whispered out, trying not to let yourself be intimidated. 

Jungkook reached back down, his hand wrapping over your own, grip suddenly being crushed much more than you would’ve expected, “Hard, like when it hurts.” His thighs tensed as he guided your hand up his shaft, roughly pumping back down to his base as he hissed out. 

You mimicked his movements, letting your hand jerk up his cock as he guided it back down each time forcefully, you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the way his cock moved with each stroke, his fat head slowly beginning to turn red, as if angry to not have it’s release.

“Mmm stick your tongue out,” He mumbled, “Want to watch your spit drip on it.”

“Jungkook..” You ushered in embarrassment.

He smiled wickedly, “Would you rather suck it instead?”

“If you had chosen to stay sober,” You teased right back, taking a long breath you appeased him though, sticking your tongue out as salvia slowly gathered at the tip of your tongue before a large glob slowly hit the fat head of his cock. 

Jungkook jolted and stiffened beneath you, a deep moan escaping him at such a lewd sight as your hand wrapped around his tip, dragging the fluid down his cock making it more pliable, he could hardly stand it as your hand squeezed harder around him. 

“Fuck yeah, like that, nice and hard.” He moaned in pleasure, eyes lidded and watching your hand with each rough stroke, “Mm little harder- shit…!” He moaned even louder as his eyes closed briefly, your hand squeezing nice and hard around his base as you began forcefully pumping his cock just the way he enjoyed it. 

His thighs kept tensing beneath you and you could feel your arousal drip on his thigh as you slowly shifted slotting your own thighs beneath his thick taunt one as your hips couldn’t resist but to wiggle, your wet puff slit dragging open along the warm skin of his thigh.

“Mm that's it, good girl,” He moaned deep, eyes locked between your little cunt making a mess all over his thigh and your hand, working his cock nice and rough, “Rub your little clit on my thigh.” 

You let out a little whine at your clit sliding against his skin, pleasure frictioning against the open plane as your grip on his cock tightened, hand fisting all the way to the head of his cock as you roughly pumped his head, as if trying to squeeze the cum right out. 

Jungkook’s moans were salacious and wonton, not holding back in the least as his hips suddenly thrust upward into your hand, his thigh rutting into your cunt as you let out a small breathy moan, enjoying the mess your cunt was making. 

You spit once more on his cock making it slide with ease once more, “Mm just like that, fuck Y/n, yeah, mm gonna’ cum.” 

Jungkook’s hips were impatiently thrusting upward as your hand forcefully pumped his cock, his thigh continually rutting up against your clit just the right way as you let out whiny moans, “Cum for me, please, that’s it, cum.” 

Jungkook was pliable at your voice, whining and begging softly as your hand tightened around his cock once more, the sight of you bending slightly, your tits bouncing and your tongue sticking out, only this time his fat head aimed at your mouth. 

It was such a lewd sight, Jungkook cursed loudly, your hand roughly stroking his cock as the pleasure became blinding, the sight too tempting as he grunted out a deep moan, cumming hard as he kept his eyes wide open for the spectacle, spurts of white cream shot from out from his slit, hitting your tongue, “Fuck, oh my god, yeah, suck it, please, fuuck, suck it up.”

You appeased him, your lips tenderly around his head before sucking it harshly as he cried out another deep moan, eyes unable to pry away from the sight, one arm forcing his hips down to keep from rutting into your mouth as your other hand forcefully pumped his cock of every last drop of seed. 

Your lips stayed wrapped around his fat head as you felt more substance dribble out from his weepy sensitive head. 

Your hand pumping every last drop he had to offer as his thighs violently twitched with each stroke of your hair, his moans were loud and obscene as he growled, “Keep going fuck, can take it.”

That deep dominant voice had you pliant, obediently swirling your tongue around his slit, cum slowly leaking back down his cock as you stroked it.

You could tell he was overstimulated just by how violently his body was twitching but just as you kept going his cock slowly started to harden once more, pulling off his head as you swallowed the rest of the substance, a subtle sweetness in it otherwise tasteless. 

Jungkook moaned, his hyper sensitive cock resting back against his abdomen, “Wanna cum in that pretty little cunt now.” 

You couldn’t help but feel somewhat shy, “Are you sure?” 

Jungkook moaned softly as his hands wrapped around your hips as you shifted yourself, “Why wouldn’t I be? Nothing satisfies me more than watching my cum drip from this little hole.”

You shuddered as you grabbed his cock, watching the way he sucked a harsh breath in, teasing his weeping cum covered head against your slit before slowly sinking down on it.

The stinging sensation was absent, only the feeling of his fat cock sliding inside you with ease as you both moaned, “…Even if I become with child..?” You whispered out.

Jungkook’s hands suddenly gripped your hips even tighter, eyes lifting with a wicked smirk on his face, “Why do you think I've emptied inside you every time? Mm is that what you want? My seed nice and deep inside this cunt until your belly becomes swollen? Filled with my child?”

Your cunt harshly wrapped around his cock, you hadn’t expected your body to react so harshly to his words but it was making your clit throb in excitement, the idea of becoming pregnant with Jungkook’s child.

Your hips were immediately bouncing, your cunt greedily sucking his cock deeper inside as your walls clenched around him, soft whines escaping you, “Mm! Please…!”

Jungkook moaned softly, “So I’ve found your weakness,” he cracked a boyish smile, “You want to be my little cumdump? Milking my cock of every drop of cum until you're pregnant with my baby?” 

Your thighs were trembling at the idea, the anticipation of his cum spurting deep inside you, the excitement made pleasure bloom through your body as his shaft began rubbing right where you wanted it, “Please…! I’d be good!” You whimper, “I’d take care of our baby…”

Jungkook moaned hands encouraging your hips, roughly bouncing as his big cock forced his way past your little walls, “Mm know you would, have’ the prettiest belly. Prettiest tits…”

Your whines and moans were like music to Jungkook’s ears as you frantically bounced on his cock in need, his hands soothing your hips as you moaned, “Wan’ baby please…! Koo’…!”

“Mm that’s it my love,” Jungkook moaned as your hips became flush with his, feeling your walls wrap around him as came once more, cum burying deep inside you as the loudest, whiniest moan escaped you, cumming all over his cock as you bounced once more, milking every drop from his cock once more as it buried inside you.

Every muscle in your body was tensed as your breath labored, fists curled against Jungkook’s chest before he grabbed them, tenderly uncurling them as he laced his own bigger ones in yours, “So you want my children hm…?” 

You slowly opened your eyes, tiredness running in your body as you let out a soft, somewhat shy giggle, “Do you want me to have your children?” 

“Is my cock inside?” 

“Stop…!” You whispered out, falling against his chest as he chuckled, arms wrapping around you, his cock softening as it slipped out of your body, the warm sensation of liquid dripping down your thighs as you curled up against him. 

Jungkook’s eyes fluttered shut as he hummed, fingers tracing over your sides, “There’s no one else I’d rather have children with.” 

Jungkook had slept heavily through most of the early morning like you had assumed, he did wake up once, stirring a little at the feeling of your tit cupped in his hand, he only gave it a nice hard squeeze before falling back asleep. 

The light had begun to shine through and you could tell the halls were busy with maids, your personal servants wouldn’t be in for another hour and a half at least though, and somehow, you thoroughly enjoyed being able to lay with your husband like this. 

Far past any reasonable hour to get out of bed. 

“Will you survive my love?” You whispered out a small giggle as your hand reached out, brushing back those long dark bangs from his forehead. 

He groaned, eyes still closed but you knew he was awake, “It feels like I am an anvil and my headache is a smith master. You never told me your mother could hold her liquor better than you.” 

You smiled fondly as you laid on your stomach, propping yourself up on your forearms, “They say dryad blood makes alcohol less potent.”

Jungkook’s eyes shot open, a comedic glare on his face, “I see you’ve chosen to keep that information to yourself.” 

“I never thought it was relevant,” You laughed softly, trying not to be loud for the sake of his poor head, “It’s probably why I can drink more than you.”

“And yet you never seem to utilize this ability, you should take after your mother more,” Jungkook groaned as he pulled his arms over his head, eyes squeezed shut once more, “So you’re ready to have my children hm?”

You tried not to choke on your own spit at such a drastic conversation change, “I…” 

Jungkook’s lips slowly pulled into a smile, eyes lidded once more as he stared at you, “What got this on your brain?” 

Your lips parted multiple times, trying your hardest to not let yourself become shy, but it was difficult under his gaze, “...My mother- very drunkenly told me she hoped for grandchildren soon last night after you departed with Yoongi.” 

“Hm yes I do recall her mentioning this to me as well,” Jungkook laughed softly at the expression on your face, “Telling me we would make the prettiest children and that if I wasn’t treating you well she’d personally castrate me- I also see where you get your temper from.” 

You weakly smiled, you wanted to say your mother would never say that sober- but you knew good and well you got her temper in a much higher dose then even she had. 

“She was one of my teachers,” You replied, “...Is it…you don’t think we’re going too fast?” 

Jungkook rolled onto his side, “What do you mean?” 

“Having children?” You raised your brows, “I…I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner, but with how we’ve been…It may be a good possibility.” 

“We’ve been married for almost a year now,” Jungkook mused, “True half of it hasn’t been on good terms but the court…” He sighed, “I hadn’t wanted to tell you because I didn’t want you to feel pressured but…The Penumbra court has started questioning me on when they can expect an heir.” 

Your lips slowly curled into a frown, “I’m not surprised…” Because regardless of how either one of you felt about this, there was a duty to uphold, “Is that why…?”

“No,” Jungkook immediately cut you off, head resting against the pillow as his hand reached out, tracing your jawline, “Our moments have been organic and I had no hidden agenda behind them, but I won’t deny that I’ve emptied inside you continually because I am intentionally trying to get you pregnant- for the sole reason of wanting to have a child together. Not because the court expects me too...” 

Your stomach felt like butterflies had formed, something like arousal stirring in your body at his choice of words, “You’ve been trying to get me pregnant without telling me?” It wasn’t meant as a reprimand but more of a soft tease. 

Jungkook let out something between a laugh and a scoff, a boyish look on his face, “Figured’ the action spoke more for itself I guess. Nothing screams "I want to get you pregnant” like burying my cum inside you.” 

“Jungkook…!” You whispered out. 

Jungkook laughed harder before wincing, hands grabbing his head as he groaned, “This horrible, ugh Eunoian wine always gives me the worst headaches. Seems you and the wine have something in common.” 

You clacked your tongue, “And here I thought I was going to be nice this morning and give what you had requested the night before.” 

Jungkooks eyes blinked back open, curiosity brimming as he squinted, “What does that mean?”

“You only get to find out if you take back the headache comparison.” 

“It may give me a headache but it’s just as sweet as your cunt- Ow!” 

You had immediately straddled him, taking your pillow with you as you hit him on the head with it as he grabbed it, tossing it aside before his hands snaked around your asscheeks, “There it cancels out, now continue.” 

You could feel the pang of arousal in your cunt as you situated yourself, leaning forward a little as you smiled, “You’ve been rather mean to me this morning, are you sure you’re worthy of it?” 

“You like it when I’m mean,” Jungkook flirted back, fingers digging into your ass, multiple bruises had already stained your skin in the form of his fingers, and it looked right now would be stained on your skin later as well, “I could be even meaner- After all, you let Yoongi take me back and then that rat got his hands on you.” 

You raised your brows with an amused smile, “I assure you no rat had his hands on me for more than a moment.”

You could see it in his eyes, something dark stirring as his jaw clenched a little, a possessive tone in his voice, “A moment is still too long- what did he want?” 

Your hand traced down his chest as you replied, “It seems I was not clear enough when I ended our relationship right before you and I wedded. Seokjin had this idea that we were still lovers.”

“And?”

His fingers dug even harder, nails starting to dig into your skin, not overly painful but just enough for your cunt to feel it, “And I told him I belong to you, and that there was nothing left.” 

Jungkook huffed, fingers relaxing a little, “Couldn’t stand the way he looked at you last night, acting like he had any right to stare at you like that.” 

You laughed softly at his broody look, “Well trust me, Seokjin isn’t getting to experience what you are.” 

Your lips pressed against his clavicle, Jungkook’s lips parted to make a remark but they paused as you lifted yourself a little, kisses fluttering down his chest as the bed cover was slowly pushed back, his naked body revealed and his cock hard and proud. 

It was difficult to not be aroused when he knew you were naked in his bed, but the sight was even more to behold as your tongue softly pressed against his abdominal, his sucked in a harsh breath of air as the soft wet muscle slid towards his pubic bone. 

You planted another kiss against his pubic bone before pressing your tongue back against his warm skin, sliding it down to meet the base of his cock, his hips physically thrusting in need as you let out a shy laugh. 

Jungkook had done nothing but give you pleasure from the moment he declared his love, you wanted to show him the same, how much you wanted him, needed him, how he would never need to worry about another man. 

You only wanted to be his, it was difficult to not let yourself become shy though- yes you had a little experience with this, but it was different, back then you did it as a means to keep things from going further. 

You wanted to do this now, but your husband was not what you considered beginner friendly, it felt like a weapon was staring at you.

Jungkook couldn’t resist the soft moan at the sight of you looking up at him, those pretty doe-like eyes all flustered just inches away from his cock, so confident one moment and shy the next.

Jungkook let out an amused scoff, his hand tenderly pressed against your head as he stroked it, “You’ve sucked cock before, go on.” 

It was a lighthearted tease that made your lips quiver into a pout, “Jungkook...I…I want you to show me what you like…” You mumbled, unable to look at him whilst saying it. 

Jungkook hummed as he reached out, grabbing your head more firmly as he forced you a little closer to his fat cock, “Open your mouth,” It was soft command you couldn’t deny as you let out a breathy moan as you parted you lips, “Mm yeah, now stick out your tongue.” 

“Jungkook…” You squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment but you felt a sharp tug on your hair in reprimand. 

“You want to please me, yeah? Then be a good girl and show me your tongue.” Jungkook growled lightly as your lips trembled before you did as you were told. 

You stuck your tongue out a little as Jungkook grasped your hair once more rewarding, “Good girl,” He stroked your head, “Now open your mouth a little wider and let your spit drip on the head.” 

Your entire face felt like it was on fire, grabbing the base of his cock as you leaned over it, sticking your tongue out a little further as Jungkook spoke, “Look at me.” You meekly glanced up at him as a wad of spit dripped off your tongue, pooling down onto his fat bulbous head as he moaned softly, eyes lidded at the sight. 

“Fuck yeah, my pretty wife, now take the tip in your mouth, just the tip,” Jungkook ushered softly, watching in blind pleasure as you meekly leaned down, parting your lips a little further, you couldn’t help but hesitate for a moment. 

It wasn’t that you were staring at his cock, it was more like…it was staring at you. His tip was incredibly fat and bulbous, you knew this, but now being at eye level, mouth to cock level, it made you realize just how big he was.

“Having second thoughts?” Jungkook teased, “Your little rat wasn’t as well equipped?” 

Your eyes slowly looked up at him with a glare as he snickered, an affectionate look in his eyes, “Just the tip to start my goddess.”

Your lips parted around his tip before fully pushing it further into your mouth, your jaw immediately aching for a brief moment before you forced yourself to relax as you closed your eyes, sucking his tip gently as you waited for Jungkook’s next instruction. 

Jungkook could feel the sweat breaking on the back of his neck as he moaned softly, “Fuck,” Something about watching you struggle just to take his tip had his hormones completely fucked up, “Drag your tongue over the slit.” He gritted his teeth, watching you pull off his cock before you looked up at him, dragging your tongue over his head as his lips twitched, hot arousal beginning to fill him more and more, “Now suck it further.” 

Your lips pressed against his tip before you parted your lips once more, trying to relax your jaw as you took him back into your mouth, this time attempting to take him further. Keyword; attempt. It was admittedly a tight fit, not as impossible as you first assumed it would be, but not as roomy as it had once been with Seokjin. 

You let out a muffled whine causing Jungkook to moan as he gripped your hair a little tighter before he pushed you a little further down onto his cock, a noise sounded from you but it suspiciously sounded like a moan and you hadn’t pulled off him yet. 

Jungkook testingly yanked your hair a little, another whine thrumming on his cock as he began to force your head to bob along his cock, he moaned softly at the sight of your mouth stuffed with his cock, naked and tits bouncing, drool beginning to dribble down his shaft and to his balls. 

“Good girl sweetheart.” Jungkook moaned a soft praise as he began to push you down further onto his cock, now nearly half his cock stuffed into your mouth before you suddenly gagged, his fat head hitting the back of your throat. You hadn’t pulled completely off his cock, just enough to regain yourself before you grabbed his thighs, taking his cock back where it was before. 

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair as he puffed a breath, “What a good little girl, taking my cock this obediently. Mmm you don’t have to take it down your throat if you’re not ready, I’m sure you haven’t- fuck!” He hissed through his teeth at the sudden feel of his fat head beginning to forcefully squeeze down that tight little throat of yours. 

Your eyes were immediately blurring with tears and your jaw had a gripping ache in it and your throat was burning but you weren’t about to quit now as you took his cock further down your throat. 

Jungkook was moaning louder this time running a hand through his hair and trying to not give into the animalistic urge to fuck your throat raw, instead his hand won the battle instead, yanking your hair roughly, causing a choked gurgled whine to escape you, it had his cock throbbing even harder. 

You whimpered at your slow pace suddenly upheaved for a much rougher sloppier one as Jungkook forced your throat to take his cock exactly the way he wanted it, you were gagging now, tears dripping down your face as you moaned on his cock. 

Swears begin to leave his lips left and right before he came you were suddenly pulled off his cock, a breath of air escaping you as you gasped out, your throat painfully stinging as you looked up at him in teary eyed confusion. 

“Sit on my face.” It was ragged, grunted command

You coughed, rubbing your throat tenderly, “Pardon?” 

“Want to suck on your clit while you finish me.”

You couldn’t even ask how that would work before Jungkook suddenly grabbed you, roughly manhandled you as you whined out, clit throbbing as he turned you around, “Jungkook…!” 

“Going to suckle this pretty clit while you suck my cock,” He pulled your thighs closer as you dropped, hands catching the bed as you whined, now within distance of his cock, head weeping precum as it faced you. 

Jungkook easily moved your thighs to either side of his face as you let out a shaky breath, you didn’t think such a lewd position could exist and yet Jungkook was surprising you with new things with each passing day.

You let out a sharp moan at his tongue suddenly pressing against your hole, tasting your arousal before sliding up your puffy slit, an even louder moan escaping you as his lips wrapped around your clit for a brief moment.

“Use your hand and your mouth,” Jungkook growled, the carnal need to cum all over your face and his patience was running thin, hand suddenly smacking your ass in prompt as you let out a loud noise.

“Mm fuck yeah, squeeze it hard,” Jungkook moaned at your hand squeezing his thick base nice and hard, lips wrapping around his tip as he began to suckle your clit once more, a lewd mixture of moans filled the air. 

Jungkook’s hands rubbed down your thighs as before he harshly smacked your right ass cheek, hips jolting as he heard a gurgled whine, your hand forcefully pumping his base with a tight squeeze as you messily bobbed your head down on his cock. 

It was difficult to focus when his tongue was swirling around your sensitive little bud, every little flick sending shocks of pleasure in your body as you whined around his cock, every little sensation of pleasure making you take him further in your mouth as you began to rock your hips against his tongue.

Jungkook allowed his tongue to still, letting your hips guide his tongue to slide through your little slit back to your clit as you moaned, your hand stroking him roughly became shorter once more as your mouth took more of him

Your voice vibrated along his shaft as you sucked against him harder, hand stroking past his base as you tenderly massaged his balls, making a grunt escape him, lips wrapping around your clit once more as you whined, Jungkook refuses to let up.

His hand suddenly smacking your left ass cheek this time, the delicious sting of pain making you moan as spit slowly trailed down his shaft, your hand becoming lubricated as it squeezed harshly against his base, pumping him roughly as if trying to milk his cock for every drop of seed.

Jungkook smacked your ass harder, the stinging pain persisting as his tongue messily swirled your clit before the palm of his hand found your ass once more and his hips lifted, his cock sliding in your mouth with a gurgle, just the feeling made him moan and before he could stop he couldn’t help himself.

Jungkook’s hips continued to thrust as he felt your mouth obediently still for him, letting him fuck your mouth, cock sliding along your warm tongue as his palm smacked your poor right asscheek, once, then twice, he could feel your gurgled moans on his cock as he continued to fuck it in your mouth before he hit a particularly sensitive spot on your ass making you squirm.

Jungkook tenderly stroked the spot as he moaned along your clit, hips lethargically thrusting as your grip on his base suddenly squeezed tighter making him grunt once more, he had surely found heaven. Even with a pounding headache still raging your sweet cunt took the edge off it.

He moaned softly feeling pleasure throbbing in waves as his cock slid along your tongue, your hand pumping his base before massaging his balls once more, he didn’t even bother to warn you, too lost in his own pleasure buried in your cunt, lapping up your clit as his eyes closed, revealing in his orgasm as he came in your mouth. 

You let out an obscene moan as you took him further, sucking his cock harsh as his own moan mixed in the air, hands stroking your ass as you sucked every drop of cum from his cock until he was too sensitive as you pulled off him.

Jungkook however was still very much enjoying your cunt, lips lazily wrapping around your clit making you squeal once finally resting against his pubic bone as your clit throbbed, his tongue abusing your little bud as he moaned, lapping and suckling it as pleasure rapidly built in your body, far more than you were used to at once.

Jungkook’s grip on your thighs tightened at the feeling of you jolting, the pleasure almost too intense as you struggled, his stubborn grip not letting you go as his tongue flattened your bud moaning as you whined out, “Mmm! Koo…! Ah…!” Your body stiffened at the way his tongue slid quickly along your sensitive clit, flicking at its sensitive spot before an even higher pitched cry left you.

Your thighs almost spreading more as your hips sudden rutted into his tongue, Jungkook moaned hands grabbing your hips in encouragement as you rutted into him further, clit throbbing in so much pleasure before you came, and it felt so good, having his warm, soft tongue continue over your clit and keep going.

Everything was becoming sensitive, even painful, but you couldn’t ask him to stop when it felt so good, Jungkook’s hands were all over your ass, petting it and squeezing the flesh in his hands as his tongue tenderly pressed into your clit, gathering the overstimulated bud in his mouth.

Your thighs were beginning to tremble as breathy whimpers escaped your lips, unable to keep yourself propped anymore as you laid against his body, letting him support you as he tongue swirled the bud that was quickly building pleasure once more, your moans were unfiltered, unholy and loud, “Koo…! Mmm’ Koo…mmm like that…”

Jungkook suckled your clit a little harder before flattening his tongue over the bud once more, clit burning in pleasure as you whined sharply, his tongue kept lapping that little sweet spot before your back began to arch, propping yourself on your forearms, hips desperately rutting his face for relief.

Feeling his tongue messily push through your slit back to your clit each time was like madness as pleasure bloomed in waves, before it finally snapped, cumming all over his tongue as you whined.

Hips unable to stop rutting as his tongue stilled for you, letting you go as long as you wanted, giving you as much pleasure as you wanted, riding your orgasm out until you felt the next one already building.

“Mmm! Koo…yeah��oh…!” you whimpered softly, eyes shut as you felt his tongue pushing and flattening onto your clit with each rut of your hips.

Every little touch had you jolting a little, thighs burning but your body unable to stop at that delicious sting of hypersensitivity, your clit aching in pleasure with each slide of friction with his tongue.

Jungkook kept your hips still as his tongue swirled around your aching bud making you moan, mumbling incomprehensible words, pleasure aching in your body as he suckled the tender bud in his mouth once more.

Jungkook was particularly tender this time, slowly coaxing the orgasm from your body, tongue making no harsh motion or movement, only pressing softly into your sweet spot each time just a little harder. 

Your body trembled as you let out a gurgled whine, pleasuring building as you felt his tongue swirl around your little hole, dragging arousal with his tongue as he lapped your clit, giving it a soft kiss before gathering the little bud into his mouth to suckle.

The gesture made your body fold, cumming from the sensation as you collapsed against him once more, eyes blurred from tears of pleasure at how good it felt, how good he made you feel.

Jungkook pressed one last kiss against your clit before he slowly peeled you off his face, his hands were gentle as he manhandled you, pulling you against his chest with a soft moan.

Kisses flustering along your collarbone as he murmured, “Mmm, my wife, mine,” his fingers squeezed against your skin, “My head is killing me.”

This caused a tired chuckle to escape your lips, curling against him as you tenderly pressed a kiss against his neck in reciprocation, “I know my love, maybe you should not drink as much tonight…?”

“I make no promises,” Jungkook murmured against your skin softly, fingers tracing the sides of your body, “Especially when you take pity on me like this.” he pressed another kiss against the side of your head, “Even moreso when you look so beautiful….” He slowly frowned, piercing eyes trailing your body as his hands feathered along your skin, “What did he want with you last night…?”

In turn you couldn’t help but frown at the memory, shifting in your husbands arms as you laid on your stomach, hand reaching out to brush the hair from his eyes, “Seokjin took me to his office to talk privately, it appears he…” You sighed, a worried look beginning to spread across your face.

“What?” Jungkook’s brows furrowed.

“While he assumed we were still a couple- there’s something else that worries me more…” You thought back to the previous night as you continued, “He mentioned having a plan…? Involving me coming here on my own and staying.” 

Jungkook frowned, laying on his back as he stared at the ceiling in thought, “That could mean many things. Even if you had come here by yourself, staying would cause uneasy tension with Penumbra.”

“And what would that lead to…?” You asked, trying to figure out just what Seokjin had planned.

Jungkook shrugged, “Seems Kimhae was willing to go to war for you.” 

“You would go to war for me?” 

Jungkook’s lips quirked as he gazed at you, his eyes full of admiration as his fingers traced along your jawline, “If you were kept here against your will, if it meant bringing you back home.” 

You couldn’t help but share a shy smile with him, closing your eyes at the feeling of his hand tracing along your back, “Still…it worries me, much tension has been detected surrounding Penumbra.” 

“What would you propose we do about this then…?” Jungkook asked. 

You chewed on your lip in thought, “Well, I already ruined any chance of Seokjin potentially giving me any information.” 

Had you played your cards a little smarter you could’ve charmed Seokjin’s little plan right out of him, granted you were sure Jungkook would’ve rather fell on his own sword before witnessing such an event, so perhaps this was for the best anyways.

This made Jungkook snort, “Made a point did you?” 

“Nothing less than a true Jeon would.” You replied, perhaps a little proud.

This made Jungkook smile, clearly enjoying the way you wore his surname, “Nothing less than I’d expect from my wife.” 

“The only way we can know for sure if Kimhae has ill intentions is if we search Seokjin’s office.” You hummed out with a nod of certainty, “If there’s information anywhere on it, it would be there.” 

“…You’re asking that we do something that would potentially land us in hot water with the royal court if we got caught…?” Jungkook hummed.

A mischievous smile tugged on your lips before you whispered out, “I’ll have you know I was very good at sneaking out.” 

“Why am I not surprised?” He looked amused, “And when do you propose we do this? Since his office is definitely not highly guarded.” 

“We’ll have to sneak away during the ball,” you answered easily, “Most of the guards and attention will be on the ballroom since so many royals and high aristocrats will be attending, should make the halls easy to navigate, and everyone will be making merry- even the staff, shouldn’t be too difficult to get to his office unnoticed.” 

Jungkook raised his brows intrigued, “Hm…so you really are a troublemaker.” 

“Are you surprised?” 

“No.” Jungkook let a sly smile tug on his lips, “Our marriage would’ve been terribly boring if you weren’t.” 

[thesimline]

1700s WOMEN - PART 2

Lace as a luxury was carried over from the 17th century, used as a status simple for the wealthy to flaunt. From the mid-century on it migrated to the neck in the form of delicate chokers, which were a fashionable alternative to traditional jewelled necklaces. As hairstyles became larger hat styles became smaller until they were discarded altogether for a time, followed by extremely large hats that accommodated the curls, plaits and frizzed hair beneath. CC links and reference images under the cut.

You can find more of my historical content here:

1300s ✺ 1400s ✺ 1500s ✺ 1600s ✺ 1700s

1 - Hedgehog Hair & Silk Headband by Acanthus Sims

2 - Eleonora Hair by Melancholy Maiden

3 - Sophia 1790s Hair by In Love with the Regency Era

4 - Rococo Hair & Feather and Pearls Accessory by The Regal Sim (Curseforge)

5 - 1770s Four Curls Tall Coiffure & Rose Crown by Acanthus Sims

6 - 1700s Hair 1 by In Love with the Regency Era

7 - Hedgehog Hair & Bergère Hat by Acanthus Sims

8 - Tête de Mouton & Suburban Shopper Hat by Javi Trulove

9 - Hedgehog Hair & Bow Hat by Acanthus Sims

10 - Small Louis XV Hair (A) by Acanthus Sims | Reminiscence Of Flower Hat by Simsonico

11 - Duchess of Devonshire by Historical Simslife | Cavalier Hat V.2 by Strange Storyteller Sims

12 - Small Louis XV Hair (B) by Acanthus Sims | Ruffle Hat by Acanthus Sims

13 - Diamond Pink Earring v2 by Glitterberry Sims (TSR)

14 - Arthur 1 Earring by Yakfarm

15 - Velvet and Pearl Earrings VER.1 by LIN_DIAN (TSR)

16 - Voiles Face Stars by Kismet Sims

17 - A la Quigley’s Mouches by Javi Trulove

18 - Clara Beauty Marks by The Plumbob Fairy (retired - direct download)

19 - Lace Collar 05 by S-Club (TSR)

20 - Lace Collar with Bell by MysteriousOo (TSR)

21 - Pearl Necklace 201915 by S-Club (TSR)

22 - Genius Eden Choker by Genius666 (TSR)

23 - Frill Choker by Euno Sims

24 - Midnight Choker by Pralinesims (TSR)

25 - Ledé Gloves by Vibrant Pixels

26 - Candy Witch Lisa Gloves by Simsonico

27 - Reminiscence Of Flower Gloves by Simsonico

28 - 1760s Rococo Mules by Simulated Styles

29 - Reminiscence Of Flower Shoes by Simsonico

30 - The Regal Sims Rococo Shoe Recolour by Elfdor

With thanks to some amazing creators: @acanthus-sims @the-melancholy-maiden @inlovewithregencyera @javitrulovesims @simsonico @strangestorytellersims @glitterberrysims @pralinesims @vibrantpixels @simulatedstyles @elfdor

[paintpaintpaintman]

NAP BUDDIE SNAP BUDDIES NAP BUDDIES MAKE THE CROWS SMOOCH SMOOCH KISS GOING TO PUT MAKEUP ON THE CROWNS

@paintpaintpaintman

LOOK LOOK LOOK OUR LAMBS ARE HAVING SLUMBER!!!!!!!! they are hanging out. best friends.

[hookhausenschips]

Whispered Intentions

Ch.1 of The Game Of Seduction

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Summary: At a glamorous charity gala, mob boss Lando Norris encounters Y/N, a captivating and enigmatic woman who disrupts his control with her fearless charm. Their meeting sets the stage for a dangerous game of power, seduction, and hidden motives.

Warnings: Manipulation, Deception, Power Dynamics, Sexual Tension, Psychological Tension, Mature Themes

WC: 2.1k

17+

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• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

The charity gala was a spectacle of wealth and shadowed power. Beneath the golden glow of crystal chandeliers, the elite mingled—mob bosses masquerading as philanthropists, business tycoons laundering their riches, and politicians exchanging favors with quiet handshakes. Conversations were murmurs of veiled threats and promises, the kind of deals that could move markets or topple governments.

At the center of it all stood Lando Norris, the newly crowned leader of the McLaren Mob Family.

Lando carried himself with a calm authority that demanded respect. His midnight-blue suit was immaculately tailored, its sharp lines emphasizing his slim but commanding build. The soft curls of his infamous mullet rested casually along the nape of his neck, a style that shouldn’t have worked but somehow added to his mystique. With a crystal tumbler of bourbon in hand, he exuded an effortless magnetism, his every move calculated yet unhurried.

The room was his, and he knew it.

But when she walked in, even Lando couldn’t deny the shift in the atmosphere.

---

Lando’s POV

I didn’t see her at first.

The room was filled with the usual crowd—men trying to act more powerful than they were, women hoping to catch the eye of someone important. All of them, predictable. Forgettable.

Then she walked in.

I caught a glimpse of green first, a flash of emerald against the subdued tones of tuxedos and evening gowns. The dress clung to her curves like it was made for her, shimmering with every subtle sway of her hips. Her skin, rich and smooth like polished mahogany, glowed under the chandeliers, and her hair—jet-black curls swept to one side—framed her face perfectly.

I couldn’t look away.

Who the hell is that?

My grip on my glass tightened as I watched her glide through the crowd. She was unlike anyone else in the room. Where the other women fawned and flitted, their presence ornamental at best, she was electric. Every step she took seemed deliberate, her gaze calculated.

She didn’t belong here—or maybe that was the point.

It wasn’t just her beauty, though that was impossible to ignore. It was the way she carried herself as if the world bent around her will. The other men in the room noticed her too, their attention blatant, but she dismissed them with the slightest tilt of her chin. I had seen countless women try to get his attention, but this one wasn’t trying at all.

And yet, she had it entirely.

She didn’t scan the room like most people, trying to figure out who mattered and who didn’t. No, she moved like she already knew she was the most important person here. And the way people turned to watch her... they might have agreed.

Then her eyes met mine.

Dark, piercing, and unreadable. She didn’t smile right away. Instead, she studied me like she was deciding something.

I tipped my glass to my lips to cover the flicker of unease that ran through me. For a split second, I felt like I was the one being observed.

Then she smiled, slow and deliberate, and started walking toward me.

---

Y/N’s POV

The room was a stage, and every player was already in character.

I spotted Lando immediately. He wasn’t hard to find. He stood near the bar, effortlessly commanding the room with his presence. The pictures I’d seen of him didn’t capture the full picture—the sharpness of his jawline, the casual confidence in the way he held himself. And the infamous curly mullet? Somehow, it worked. It shouldn’t have, but it did.

I let my gaze linger on him for a moment longer, just enough to make sure he noticed. Men like him loved being noticed, but they hated feeling studied. It was a balance, one I’d perfected.

The emerald gown was a weapon, just like the bold red lipstick and the diamond cuff that glittered on my wrist. I’d chosen it all with precision. Tonight, I wasn’t just here to seduce Lando Norris. I was here to dismantle him.

I began moving toward him, my steps slow, deliberate. The crowd parted without me needing to ask, their gazes trailing me like whispers. I didn’t acknowledge them. My focus was entirely on the man watching me with a sharp, unreadable expression.

“Mr. Norris,” I said when I reached him, extending my hand. My voice was smooth, velvety, as though this was the most natural moment in the world.

His eyes flicked to my hand, then back to my face. For a moment, he didn’t move, and I wondered if he would refuse. Then he reached out, his grip firm and warm against my skin.

“Y/N,” I offered, letting my name roll off my tongue like a secret.

“Y/N...” he repeated, his voice low, almost testing the name. “And your last name?”

“Just Y/N,” I replied, my lips curving into a faint smile.

His brow arched slightly, the first crack in his otherwise unreadable expression. “Intriguing.”

“Not as intriguing as you,” I said lightly, releasing his hand but not the tension between us.

---

Lando’s POV

She was fearless. Most people, even the bold ones, had some tell—nervous hands, a flicker in their gaze, something. But not her. She was poised, calm, like this was her gala and not mine.

“What brings you here?” I asked, keeping my tone polite but cool.

“Curiosity,” she said. Her lips quirked into a faint smile, the kind that didn’t reach her eyes. “And the promise of an unforgettable host. I must say, you don’t disappoint.”

Flattery, but not the usual kind. It wasn’t heavy-handed or desperate. If anything, she said it like she didn’t care whether I believed her or not.

I leaned in slightly, enough to close the distance but not enough to touch her. “You don’t seem like the type to come to an event like this just for curiosity.”

She didn’t flinch. Instead, her smile widened, and she tilted her head as if considering me. “No, I suppose I don’t.”

It was maddening. Every question I asked, she answered without actually giving anything away.

“Are you always this forward?” I asked, my voice dropping lower.

“Only when it’s worth it,” she replied smoothly, her gaze locking with mine.

I felt a flicker of something I hadn’t felt in years—unease. She was too calm, too composed. But damn if I didn’t want to know more.

Before I could press her further, she stepped back, her curls brushing against her bare shoulder as she turned. “It was lovely meeting you, Mr. Norris. Perhaps we’ll speak again.”

And just like that, she was gone.

---

Y/N’s POV

I felt his eyes on me as I walked away, burning into my back like a physical weight. I kept my movements steady, controlled, but my pulse thrummed beneath my skin.

This was the first step—a small victory in a much larger game. But I couldn’t deny the flicker of something unexpected. He was sharp. Sharper than I anticipated. And the intensity of his gaze, the way he seemed to see more than he let on, had left me unsettled.

I hated it.

The mission came first. It always came first. But the way he looked at me, like he was unraveling me even as I tried to unravel him... it made me want to play this game a little longer than I should.

---

Lando’s POV

She’s dangerous.

That was my first thought as I watched her disappear into the crowd. I didn’t know who she was or what she wanted, but I knew this much—she wasn’t here by chance.

There was something about her. The way she carried herself, the way her eyes held mine like a challenge. She wasn’t scared of me, and that was rare.

I didn’t trust her. I couldn’t.

But as I tipped my glass back and let the bourbon burn down my throat, I couldn’t deny the other thought running through my head.

I wanted to see her again.

The bourbon didn’t do a damn thing to settle the unease she’d left behind.

I was used to people playing games around me. Men schemed to gain favor, women fawned to get closer, and everyone always wanted something. It came with the job. Hell, it came with the name. But her? She didn’t fit into any of those boxes.

She didn’t want my approval. She didn’t need my validation. And somehow, that made her the most dangerous person in the room.

I leaned against the bar, pretending to survey the crowd, but my attention kept drifting to her. She was moving through the gala like she owned it, smiling at strangers, exchanging words I couldn’t hear. She laughed once, a soft sound that seemed effortless but made my chest tighten.

What was her game?

She’d disarmed me with that dress, that smile, those damn red lips that still lingered in my mind. But it wasn’t just the surface—she was clever. Too clever. The way she parried my questions, the subtle way she prodded at my defenses... it felt like I’d walked into a trap and hadn’t even realized it.

No one had made me feel like that in years.

I set my glass down harder than I intended, the sound drawing the bartender’s attention. I waved him off, keeping my eyes on her. She was talking to a group now, her hand resting lightly on the arm of some wealthy politician I didn’t care to remember. Her body language was relaxed, her smile easy.

She was working them. Just like she was working me.

---

Lando’s jaw tightened as he watched her. To anyone else, she seemed nothing more than an enchanting stranger. But he knew better. He had to.

Her calculated movements, the way she had studied him during their conversation—it wasn’t just casual curiosity. She was too deliberate. Too perfect.

But that was the problem.

Despite all the warning bells ringing in his head, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her confidence, her quick wit, the way she stood toe-to-toe with him without so much as flinching. For the first time in a long time, someone had gotten under his skin.

He hated it. And yet, he couldn’t look away.

---

Y/N’s POV

I could feel his eyes on me again, as sharp and heavy as the blade hidden under my dress.

Good.

This was the part of the game I thrived in—the tension, the dance of pushing and pulling without revealing too much. Lando Norris wasn’t the first powerful man I’d faced, but he was the first to make me second-guess myself.

I hated that.

I’d done my research. He was smart, careful, calculated. A man like him didn’t get to where he was by being easy to manipulate. And yet, there was something about him that surprised me.

He didn’t act the way I expected. He didn’t flaunt his power, didn’t preen like most mob bosses. Instead, he carried it quietly, like it was woven into his very being. It was... unsettling.

And worse, it was intriguing.

I forced myself to focus, to push past the little voice in the back of my mind whispering that this was dangerous. That he was dangerous.

I couldn’t afford distractions. Not now. Not when I was so close to the first step in unraveling him.

---

Lando’s POV

There was something else about her. Something I couldn’t shake.

It wasn’t just the way she moved, though that was enough to drive any man insane. It was the way she looked at me. Like she already knew every secret I’d ever tried to bury.

No one looked at me like that.

I should’ve been angry. Hell, I should’ve had someone follow her out of the gala to see who she really was. But I couldn’t bring myself to act. Not yet.

Because for the first time, I wasn’t sure I was the one holding all the cards.

And that terrified me.

---

As the night wore on, Lando found himself returning to the same questions over and over again.

Who was she?

What did she want?

And why the hell did it feel like she was toying with him when it should’ve been the other way around?

From across the room, Y/N caught his eye again. Her lips curved into a small, knowing smile before she turned away, leaving him with nothing but the taste of his own uncertainty.

It was a game, no doubt about it. But as Lando stood there, watching her disappear into the crowd like smoke, one thought gnawed at the edges of his mind.

What if he was the one being played?

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Series Taglist: @laptime-deleted

LN4 Taglist: @esserenorris, @tallrock35, @yourbane, @lightdragonrayne, @really-fucking-tired, @evie-119, @ilivbullyingjeongin, @ggaslyp1, @icecoldtires, @cmleitora, @cheyennep3107, @d3kstar, @fadingcloudballoon-blog, @same1995, @hinamesgigantica, @laptime-deleted

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Steal Your Heart (Part 1)

When the calling card of the infamous Knave of Hearts arrives, he’ll rob his victims blind of their most treasured items on the appointed date. Enter ace detective Yuu accompanied by rookie cop Deuce Spade, both seeking to apprehend the Knave and bring him to justice.

Will they succeed, or will the phantom thief steal their valuables--and their hearts--first?

This was originally meant to be one fic, but it was getting to be WAY too long. I decided to split it in half and release this part now and the second part (which I am still working on!) later. This first part focuses more on Yuu and Deuce; the second part will be more Yuu and Ace.

(Please note: there are slight romantic implications in the form of an Ace/Yuu/Deuce love triangle, but those elements could also be interpreted as platonic or as just playful teasing with no additional meaning. It’s all in the eyes of the reader!)

Imagine this...

The police station’s waiting room was a familiar sight.

With time, the shiny checkered floor had grown matte, marred with scratches and scuffs from the boots that crossed it on a daily basis. Someone had taken to attempt to pretty up the otherwise dull space by hanging out abstract paintings on the cream-colored walls, and a vase of white roses dripping with red paint at the check-in desk. There was as even a glass tank which housed a small family of colorful hedgehogs.

Maybe they were meant to be welcoming—but really, they were more clashing than anything. Certainly not a fit for the stiff atmosphere of the station.

Still the fluorescent lightbulbs buzzed faintly, flickering in and out on occasion. The sound distracted from the old television mounted in a corner to entertain guests. It seemed to play commercials on a loop more often than it played actual shows. Currently, an Olympus Corp. branded tablet was being toted as the next big technological marvel—though the TV’s audio was fuzzy at best, and the image half static.

A coffee table pushed to the wall, stacked with a new stash of magazines. Whoever updated the reading materials—most likely the friendly senior officer with orange waves for hair—was into the latest trends, often selecting fashion magazines with high gloss finishes. A dangerously beautiful man graced the covers of many of them, dressed in the hottest summertime styles while looking the part of an untouchable ice queen.

As usual, the station was scented with coffee and tea, the beverages of choice for many officers burning the midnight oil or working overtime. The chief demanded it at times to meet deadlines and goals—he was such a stickler for them—and the caffeine helped those under him stay sane as they went about their duties.

In the afternoons, most were either out on lunch or on patrol, lessening the foot traffic at HQ. There was only one man in uniform, seated behind the desk and filing some papers.

Yuu shifted in their own chair, adjusting the rim of the baseball cap upon their head. They were suited in an inconspicuous jacket and sneakers, fingers toying with a badge in a pocket, hidden out of view. To the common man, they were a jogger--but one flash of their lilac gemstone bound to a black and white striped ribbon, and there would be no doubt as to what their true identity was.

The smell of coffee and tea grew stronger, and Yuu glanced up from behind the bill of their hat.

The bespectacled man from behind the fro

nt desk had approached. He had a sheepish smile, bearing a paper cup filled with hot brown liquid and a napkin with a donut laid upon it. Bright pink icing dusted with sugared violet petals crowned the golden fried pastry.

“Detective.”

“Mr. Clover.” Yuu nodded—a terse, polite greeting. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Please, just ‘Trey’ is fine.” He offered the treats, which they readily accepted. “Sorry for calling you in on such short notice. I’m sure you’re busy juggling your other cases—but I think I speak for the entire department when I say we’re thankful that you were able to make it.”

“No worries, I’m used to it in this line of work,” Yuu replied. “It must be something pretty urgent this time around. The Chief sounded frantic over the phone.”

Trey rubbed at his chin, grasping for the right words. “Let’s just say he’s not in the best of moods right now. You’ll need that sugar to get through this in one piece.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“Just trying to avoid any trouble. You’d better finish them before you step into his office. You know how he hates it when there are crumbs or spills in there.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” Yuu gave a joking salute before starting to pack away at their snack. The drink was the instant kind, and practically scalding, but it was easy to tell that the donut was homemade. The pastry, flaky on the outside and fluffy on the inside, dusted with sugar granules and sweet icing. “Wouldn’t want the Chief to be blowing a fuse again.”

“No, definitely not. He’s done too much of that lately.” Trey carefully eyed Yuu’s donut, now only half of it left. “Oh, but be sure to brush your teeth a thorough cleaning tonight, or I might have some problems with you. Cavities and staining are real dangers, you know.”

“Are you Assistant Chief of Police or my dental hygienist?” Yuu took a generous swig, then a bite just as big. “You worry too much about everything.”

“Ahahah… Do I? It’s a habit, I guess. Comes with the job.”

“That stressful, huh?”

“Well, I do what I can to smooth things over. Hopefully you can too. It’s been difficult on our department with the Chief all rattled up about the… situation.” He stopped himself. “I’m sure you’ll hear all about it from him.”

So the case is top-secret, Yuu concluded with the last of their donut. Not to be discussed in the public.

They ran their tongue across the length of their mouth, lapping up the remains of sugary residue. “I understand. The details are not to leave his office.”

“You catch on quickly. No wonder why the Chief thinks so highly of your abilities.”

“Flattery’s a part of your tool kit as well, Trey?”

He raised his eyebrows. “… You’ve worked long enough with us to figure these things out. Nothing gets by you, it seems.”

“UGIGIGIGIGGGGHHHH!!”

The remainder of Yuu’s drink sloshed around in its cup, set into motion by the bloodcurdling scream.

A familiar man with orange waves erupted from the chief’s office, hurriedly slamming the door shut behind him. His typically relaxed features were arranged in panic, his hair frazzled.

“How did trying to calm him work out, Cater?” Trey inquired half-heartedly. It was a courtesy more than genuine curiosity.

“What do you think?” the senior officer groaned, sinking where he stood.

Yuu quickly finished their drink, tossing their trash—the evidence they had been there—away and then stood, adjusting their jacket. “That sounds like it’s my cue.”

“Yeah, it is.” Trey sighed, frowning. “He’s in a tough spot right. Be kind to him, will you? That’s all I ask.”

“You got it.” Yuu tipped their baseball cap as they passed the officer. “Thank you for the pick-me-up. I’ll be seeing you, then. Officer Diamond—get some rest.”

“Good luck.”

“You’ll need it, Yuu-chan! Brace yourself.”

The Police Chief was a small but serious man.

His character came through in his office space: books on law and order neatly arranged on shelves, papers and files alphabetically organized in their cabinets, and pens evenly spaced apart and arranged in rows. A crystal vase with deep red roses was poised beside his writing implements. A plate polished to a fine shine was propped up at his desk, reading: Riddle Rosehearts, Chief of Police.

Perched imposingly despite his short stature in his seat, he impatiently tapped a finger on an arm. Riddle’s face was a telltale red and veiny, proof of his earlier outburst, but was beginning to cool into a faint, smooth pink.

There was already another man in the office, sitting across from the Police Chief. He was pale and jittery in a suit the color of the night and sewn with blue sequins and glitter. A top hat rested upon his raven locks, the brim of it shading his hauntingly golden eyes.

Yuu removed their hat and, keeping it to their chest, gave a shallow bow as they entered. “Sir.”

One move out of line, one hair out of place, and they suspected he, in his volatile and vulnerable state, would explode anew.

“Welcome, Detective. I’m glad you could join us today.” Every word was a gruff puff of air, a leash with which to wrest control of his rage. Riddle gestured to the empty chair beside the nervous man. “Sit.”

Yuu obeyed, sinking into the seat offered. They casted a glance at the stranger adjacent to them, who was fiddling with his velvet-lined gloves.

“Mr. Crowley, this is the independent detective from Stray Cat Investigations that I had previously mentioned to you. The force has collaborated with them for a number of difficult cases in the past. Their wit and strategic skills have made them an invaluable asset. I thought it prudent to have them return to join us for your case as well.

“Yuu, meet Dire Crowley. He is the esteemed director and curator for the Sage’s Island Museum, and he’s come to us with his woes.”

“Hello, Mr. Crowley,” Yuu said politely. “It’s nice to meet you.”

He responded with a tired attempt at a smile. “Yes, you too.”

“Now that we’re all acquainted with one another...” Riddle produced a file from beneath his desk and placed it before himself. “Do you care to explain, or shall I?”

“I-I’ll elaborate!” Crowley crowed. He picked at a collection of keys belted to his waist, glistening gold under artificial lights. “The Sage’s Island Museum is planning a new exhibition on the Great Seven. As part of the exhibit, we are having many priceless artifacts flown in from all over Twisted Wonderland. We have donations from even Briar Valley’s royal family!!

“There will also be a great number of important VIP guests present for the grand opening of the exhibit. Royalty, wealthy benefactors, important diplomats, businessmen, celebrities... All individuals who wish to see their history on display! This is very important, you see!! M-My reputation--er, I mean, the museum’s reputation--is on the line here!!”

“Right.” Yuu nodded as they parsed through the information. “I’m following what you’re putting down. And where does your problem arise, Mr. Crowley?”

“Ah, now that,” Riddle smirked, “is the question of the hour.”

He opened his file, pulling out...

A single playing card, its back facing Yuu.

“I trust you’ve been keeping up with the news?”

“As any good detective would. There have been several robberies lately. Terrible, really.” Yuu’s expression clouded with concentration. “Hmm... but if it’s a potential robbery that you’re concerned about, Mr. Crowley... Doesn’t the Sage’s Island Museum boast a state-of-the-art security system from Olympus Corp.? I doubt the average thief would be able to bypass it.”

“That’s just the trouble,” Crowley loudly lamented.

“We are dealing with no ordinary thief,” Riddle clarified.

“It’s not?”

“No. Far from it.” The Police Chief exhaled sharply. “The string of robberies from before--they’re connected by a single thread, perpetuated by the same lone culprit. And now that scoundrel intends to continue his crime spree.”

“I’ve never heard of this before.”

“You shouldn’t have. It was a top-secret operation within my force since the first of its kind.”

“Why am I being told of it now?”

“Because, loathe as I am to admit it, the culprit has managed to outwit us and elude capture each and every time, He employs a bag of cheap parlor tricks and smoke and mirrors like the coward he is,” Riddle confessed begrudgingly. The blue-grey of his eyes were steely and stubborn. “A case as important as this needs the additional man—and brain—power, Detective.”

He placed the playing card down and slid it toward the detective. “This arrived in the morning at Mr. Crowley’s desk, the same as all the prior robberies. It gave him quite the fright. He rushed all the way to the station to beg for our assistance.”

“This is...” Yuu gingerly turned the card over, revealing a message scrawled on the other side in bright red gel ink. Each letter was big and bubbly, bursting with cheek and pomp.

Their heart jumped.

To the Old Crow that safeguards the Museum,

Heyo~

Your pockets look a lil’ heavy there, so I’ll help you out. (Aren’t I so kind?) Three days from now, I’ll claim one of your most prized treasures at the stroke of midnight.

Stand back and watch as I perform the greatest magic trick you’ll ever see... and make the portrait of the Queen of Hearts vanish before your very eyes. It’ll be a show-stopper!!

Until then,

Phantom Thief Knave of Hearts <3 ;3

P.S. Send the cops my regards, they can’t catch me lol (especially when their teapot tyrant’s patience is in SHORT supply geddit)

“They’re just flat-out announcing what their intentions are,” Yuu realized. They were half impressed, half shocked at the gall. “You said all of the victims received messages like this?”

“Calling cards, yes.” The fury had returned to Riddle’s features, causing his voice to spike and strain. “It’s infuriating!! What does he get off on, misappropriating magic as cheap parlor tricks for crime, writing notes in such a cocksure manner, taunting us to pursue him?!

“Not only is he poking fun at my height and committing a crime, but for mere SPORT?! For the THRILL of it?! He’s making a mockery of the good people of this island and of my men and our efforts to secure the peace!!”

The Police Chief slammed a fist down on his desk, rattling his glass vase and setting his perfectly straight pens askew. Crowley shrunk back in fear. “That Knave of Hearts...!! He must be stopped at all costs!!”

“Y-Yes, absolutely!!” Crowley chimed in. “For my--er, I mean, for the museum’s sake, this criminal must be put behind bars!! That’s why I’ve come to you, my good people!

“My taxpayer dollars help fund the police force, so I’ve come to collect on what its promise to protect and to serve the community!! Well, here’s the community at your doorstep asking you to protect and to serve!!”

“That’s why you want to put me on this case,” Yuu concluded, clasping the calling card to their racing heart. “To prevent this from going down tonight.”

“And furthermore,” Riddle added, “to investigate the identity of this so-called phantom thief once the museum is safely secured.”

“That’s a tall order, sir.”

“You’ll have access to our force’s resources, and to my officers. You will assist in overseeing this operation, with maps and outlines of the museum’s security detail from Mr. Crowley. We’ll cooperate to create a plan of attack to apprehend the Knave.”

“You misunderstand me. I never said I wouldn’t take the job,” Yuu coolly informed the Chief. Their mouth cocked upwards with confidence. “I’m always up for a challenge.”

“Oh, blessed day!! From the very bottom of my oh-so-generous heart, thank you very much!!” Crowley cried tearfully.

For the first time the entire briefing, Riddle smiled back at Yuu. “Hmph. That’s what I like to hear. Happy to be working with you again, Detective.”

“Likewise, Chief.”

The sun had already set when Yuu exited the station, the stars blinking into existence. Several hours had been spent picking the museum curator’s brain with a fine-toothed comb, looking over layouts, and memorizing security detail. The information had been well-stocked, and now came the time to let it marinate and bloom into plans.

Stuffing their hands in their pockets, Yuu shuffled down the sidewalk and past rows of parked vehicles. Ahead, neon lights flashed in and out, and the trains rattled on their well-worn tracks, buses and cars honking at each other, the chatter of street vendors filling the air.

And something different than the usual tonight.

The city never slept, always buzzed with energy. Yuu had become accustomed to its sights and sounds, finding them even comforting. Their best ideas were conceived against the hum of the cityscape. It was just soft enough to not fully distract, but just noticeable enough to tug at their thoughts for long enough to stray into new territories and concepts.

Light from lonely streetlamps created tears in the darkness, illuminating the path to their favorite downtown thinking spot: the Mostro Lounge. A good (albeit overpriced) drink would chase away their tiredness.

Yuu continued with that promise in mind, every step catlike. First quick, next slow, then quick, moderate, slow, quick, slow, quick, moderate. Their speed, ever alternating.

Their ears strained against the sounds of the city, slowly parsing through the individual elements.

Trains, buses, cars, chatter… and the soft footsteps masked by them. Footsteps which matched Yuu’s pace.

There was no mistaking it now.

I’m being followed.

They didn’t look to see who it was—the first rule of tailing a target was to never alert them to your awareness. Yuu would know (as oftentimes they were the one in the position of tailer).

They cast their eyes across the street, which was busy with bodies. Once Yuu merged with the crowd, they could easily shake off their stalker.

Their feet picked up their pace again, hurrying to the crosswalk. It was a glaring red, advising pedestrians to stop.

Shoot, Yuu cursed.

They felt a presence step up beside them. From the corner of their eye, they could make out a dark form--clothes. Yuu pretended to check the time on their phone, and glimpsed him in the reflection.

He was in a hoodie, with the hood pulled up and head down to conceal his features. His hands, too, were out of sight, a sea of baggy fabric hiding identifying features, save for his frame. Lanky, but reasonably packed with muscle to keep up with Yuu.

The man shifted, and his sight grazed theirs. His eyes were hard and icy, a silent threat.

Yuu quickly focused on the crosswalk light. Their heartbeat became as loud as the surrounding sounds. Screeching above the vehicles, shouting from the rooftops. THA-THUMP, THA-THUMP, THA-THUMP.

At last, the light turned from red to white.

Walk.

They started--and so did he.

“Excuse me.” A hand came upon their shoulder. The other pulled at something with a sinister glint. “Do you have a second?”

No walking, Yuu corrected themselves. Run!!

They sprinted down the crosswalk, jostling pedestrians with a hasty “sorry!” thrown back at them. As Yuu weaved through the crowd as fast as they could, they could not completely shunt out the man after them.

“Hey, please wait!! Where are you going?! C-Come back, I need to talk to you!”

His voice carried above the others. People jolted back, the crowd parting to make way for the man to charge forth. His volume swelled louder and louder as he gained on them.

Towering apartments seemed to bear down on Yuu. Their windows, glaring.

A shop. Find a shop and get inside!!

Yuu pumped their arms, pleaded for their legs to move more efficiently.

Again, a weight fell upon their shoulder. It was a clamp, fingers biting Yuu’s skin through their jacket as they dug in and held firm.

The other hand wielded the same shining object that it had before. Yuu looked more closely this time, and the unease in them dissipated. It was not the pointed tip of a knife, but the glint of a familiar officer’s badge wreathed in golden roses.

The man tore off his hood with a sigh--though Yuu noticed that he wasn’t one bit out of breath. Navy bangs fell across his forehead, his eyes a peacock green-blue, much friendlier under the streetlamps than the crosswalk signs.

He smiled at Yuu as though he were greeting an old friend. His grip turned into a tender squeeze. “I finally caught up with you!”

The detective awkwardly pulled away, confusion scrawled on their face. “Um... Sorry, who are you? I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

“Oh! Uh...” The man jumped, retracting his hand. “That’s because we haven’t! Er, not officially anyway, but I’ve heard a lot about you!!”

Yuu pointed to his badge. “That. You’re an officer?”

“Yessir!” The man offered the proof of his identity and stiffly saluted. “Officer Deuce Spade, sir!! I’m a new recruit...!! I just joined the force a few weeks ago!”

Yuu mustered a faint smile. The darned fool was going to give them away. “... Am I in trouble, officer?”

“Nossir! Not at all!” His entire face shone with eagerness, earnest, and a slightly nervous energy. Maybe Yuu would have found it adorable (in the same way that a child trying hard was adorable), were he not blasting your occupation to the public. “Why would you be in trouble, sir?! You’re working with...”

“Okaaay, that’s enough out of you!” Yuu slapped a hand over Deuce’s mouth, silencing him.

Curious onlookers murmured amongst themselves. Some had taken to halt and full-on gawk. Children pointed, adult narrowing their eyes with suspicion.

Yuu frowned, removing their hand to shoo pedestrians away. “Nothing to see here, folks. Just a misunderstanding. Move along, Wonder Boy and I can settle this ourselves.”

“Wonder Boy?” Deuce, in a daze, pointed to himself. “Is that... me?”

“Who else would I be talking about?” Yuu folded their arms. “I assume you’re free now?”

“I am, sir! I was just let off my shift a little while ago, sir!”

“First, drop the ‘sir’. It’s giving me a headache,” Yuu instructed. “Second, if you’re free, then you’ll be joining me for a drink and a chat. We have things to discuss--chief among them being why you were following me.”

Ring-a-ling!

A bell sounded as the door to the Mostro Lounge swung open. Deuce stepped into a new world, Yuu at his side.

The interior itself was dim, but glass lights fastened in the shape of jellyfish projected swimming incandescent lights in purple, blue, and pink. Velvet booths lined one half of the eatery, the other, a glossy bar with tall, narrow stools, the shelves behind it healthily stocked with bottles in jeweled tones. Strangers poised with drink took residence in most of the seats.

The entire back wall had been repurposed into a massive aquarium teeming with aquatic plants and exotic creatures. Seaweed and coral gently swayed to the rhythm of the smooth jazz floating through the lounge, fish frolicking among them.

“Whoooa,” Deuce gasped, craning his head to drink in every detail. “I’ve never been to a place as classy as this. It looks so expensive. You think my salary’s enough to cover at least an appetizer?”

“Hang on tight to your wallet,” Yuu warned. “This place will squeeze you for every thaumark you’re worth and then some—and they won’t feel a bit of remorse about it.”

The detective raised an arm, flagging a nearby waiter.

Their uniform was simple yet sleek: dark dress pants, a white bow tie, spotless gloves, and a cummerbund and suspenders over a lavender button-up shirt. It allowed for slight variation—one waiter skidded by with his shirt buttoned as low as food safety regulations deemed safe. Another jotted down orders with a jacket thrown over his shoulders and a pair of glasses tucked into the crevice of his buttons.

The waiter Yuu called out to approached like a shark fin cutting through still water, neatly bowing to greet their waiting customers. He was prim and proper compared to the other servers, not a button out of place.

When he raised his head, Deuce marveled at his mismatched olive and gold irises, the teal of his hair marred by a stripe of black. Three diamond-shaped scales dangled from his left ear, as sharp as his eyes.

“I bid you welcome to the Mostro Lounge, honored guests,” the waiter said smoothly. He gaze immediately cut to Deuce. “I see you’ve brought a friend with you, today, Yuu-san. How delightfully rare.”

“Acquaintance. We just met outside under… less than ideal circumstances.”

“Oya, how quick you were to seize on that chance encounter. I may even deem you a bigger opportunist than our dear manager.”

“… Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Deuce inquired.

“Perhaps you will find the answer to your question, should you act as a patron at our establishment for long enough.”

“Quit toying with him, Jade. You know what we’re here for,” Yuu grumbled. “My usual.”

“If that is what you wish. And for this gentleman acquaintance of yours?”

“Just ice water is fine, sir!”

Jade maintained his polite smile. “Very well. One glass of ice cold water for you. I will bring you a menu as well, in case you begin to feel peckish late into the night.”

“Oh, thanks!”

“Right this way then.” Jade gestured for the two to follow him.

“He’s upselling you, you know,” Yuu pointed out under their breath. “Hoping that you’ll buy something when presented with the opportunity to spend.”

“E-Eh, he is?! I didn’t even realize…”

“Fufufu. Please, do not let your worries consume you. You have come to relax, correct? We at the Mostro Lounge ask that you put your fins and your feet up and enjoy yourself while the night is still young.”

They were escorted to two empty stools in a (relatively) quiet corner of the bar. The glass jellyfish lights were clustered in the center of the main dining area, leaving the corner like a slice of dark, uncharted waters. Jass music and conversation filtered into a muffled melody.

Yuu plopped down with relief, followed by an apprehensive Deuce. He slowly sank into the cushy seat.

“I will be right back with your drinks. If you will excuse me.” With another bow, Jade rounded the bar and rolled up his sleeves—the transition from waiter to bartender. Presenting his back to the duo, he set to plucking bottles off of the shelves.

Deuce blinked. He still hadn’t taken to fully processing his new surroundings. “Are we really going kick back and have drinks when there’s a serial thief on the loose?”

“We can’t talk about that in public, or risk blowing my cover. It’s safe to talk here,” Yuu reassured him. “What happens in the Mostro Lounge stays in the Mostro Lounge. Say what you want about the slimy staff, but they know how to keep their patrons’ secrets. Client confidentiality and all.”

The young officer brightened. “Ooooh, I get it!”

“… You’re not the sharpest tool in the shed,” Yuu remarked bluntly. They slipped off their baseball cap, letting loose their hair. “So? Let’s have it.”

“Have what?”

“Your reason for following me.”

“Oh!! That.” Deuce nervously scratched at the back of his neck. “That’s kind of…”

The detective drummed their fingers on the polished counter. Methodical, deliberate. “You mentioned that you recently joined the force. However, only senior officials in the police department and myself were privy to this operation. How did you come to learn about it?”

Deuce stiffened, thrown off his beat (if he had any to begin with). “Th-That’s…!”

“I’m asking you a question, Mr. Spade. Please answer me truthfully.”

“I… um… Truth is, I…” Deuce stared at his lap, unable to meet the detective’s eyes. “I might have eavesdropped when I returned from my patrol shift…”

“Go on,” Yuu coaxed.

“There was a report I had to submit to the Chief, but it sounded like he was busy in his office. It’s hard to not notice him when he raises his voice, sir. I decided to wait outside until he was done, and… well, I got curious.”

“Wasn’t Assistant Chief Clover also present? He just let you do that without a single protest?”

“Assistant Chief Clover was very nice to me! He laughed a little and said ‘make sure you don’t get caught with your hand in the cookie jar’!”

Darn it, Trey!! You could’ve been a LITTLE stricter with this guy…! Yuu groaned, massaging the bridge of their nose. “Okay, I think I’m starting to get a better picture of what went down. You followed me wanting to learn more about the operation.”

Like a curious child chasing after a white rabbit. Still immature, still wondering, and still way over their head.

“Yes, but that’s not all!” Deuce insisted. He abruptly stood from the table. “There’s an even more important reason than just satisfying my curiosity, sir!”

Yuu quirked an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

“I had to talk to you—without the Chief around. I had to. That’s why I followed you in secret.” The officer nibbled his lower lip, as if biting back something harsh and bitter from coming up.

“Out with it, Mr. Spade.”

“Pardon the intrusion,” Jade coolly interjected. His tone was nonchalant but his bemused smile was a telltale sign that he was relishing in every second of the hot gossip. “Your beverages.”

He slid two glasses between Yuu and Deuce before departing. One was tall and slim—a highball—loaded with carbonated water and fruity gummies. Yellow for jeweled pineapples, red for ruby berries, green for frozen mint, black for floral cacao, and blue from pure azure salt. It was Yuu’s usual, the famed Mystery Drink. The other glass was, by comparison, an ordinary drink of water, a single large, clear cube of ice floating in it.

A bead of sweat ran down Deuce’s jawline. Condensation forming and racing on his glass of water.

Suddenly, the officer slapped both hands on the counter, slamming his face down upon its surface. His navy hair splayed, forehead touching the table in a display of humility.

Yuu almost spilled their drink. “What are you doing?”

“I’m begging you, sir!! P-Please put me on the mission!!” Deuce pleaded, his voice shaky but resolute. “I… I want to help catch the Knave of Hearts too!!”

“If that’s all you wanted, why ask me? Go through the proper channels to…”

“I can’t!! The Chief would never allow it.” His expression creased with shame. “He says rookies need to work their way up from meter maid to working on cases.”

“He’s right. You need to grow into these things, not rush in head-first in a burst of passion.” Yuu made to take a sip of their drink—but the officer’s fist collided with the counter, the liquid inside the glass sloshing overboard. Seltzer water splashed onto their pant leg, leaving a sticky wet spot on a thigh.

“P-Please reconsider! I know how to handle myself in a fight! I’m fast, I could easily catch up with him if it’s a race on foot!”

“Look,” the detective said irritably, “I don’t know what you’re hoping to accomplish here. Fact is, no matter how much you ask, I wouldn’t want to take you on for this case. You’re too green behind the ears—and sorry, but I just don’t see you as an asset.

“You may be strong and quick on your feet, but it’ll take more than strength and speed to catch the Knave of Hearts. There’s a reason he hasn’t been caught yet.” Yuu tapped at their temple. “It’s this. He’s got smarts, and we need to combat that with smarts of our own.”

“I-I can be smart!! I can try to, at least! Please, just let me try…!!”

Frustrated, Yuu scrutinized the young man again. Their eyes roaming, searching, for detail wrong, a hair out of place.

Years of sleuthing had built up a great amount of cynicism and distrust in the detective. How many times had they pulled back the curtain, revealing the ugly truths hidden out of plain sight? How many bruised egos--both clients and coworkers--had they encountered? People seeking status or to feed their own pride.

Yet when they looked at Deuce, none of that ugliness or ego came through. Here was someone who stubbornly stared right back at Yuu, unwilling to back down, even when his dignity lay in tatters on the floor the instant he prostrated himself.

Another selfish bid for recognition? They ventured, toying with the idea. Maybe personal ambition, looking to climb up in the world.

“... One reason,” Yuu said, holding up an index finger. “Give me one good reason why I should take you on. Convince me.”

Deuce recoiled--as though even he hadn’t expected to have made it this far, or to be taken seriously at all. His brows creased with effort as he racked the recesses of his mind to find the right phrasing.

A second later, he let out a piercing shout.

“GAAAAAAAAH!!”

With a grunt, Deuce grasped his cup of ice water and lifted it to his lips. He hammered the drink in a single swig, releasing a satisfied hoot. The liquid courage had revived the man, returning the spark to him.

In a voice as clear as the drink he had just downed, Deuce said, “It’s for my mom. She’s just about the sweetest, most hard-working person I know.”

He hung his head and slammed his empty cup down, shaking the entire table.

“She raised me as a single parent. Mom never once complained, only wanted the best life for me.” Deuce glared into his glass, speaking with scorn and anger--not at others, but for himself. “And how did I repay her? I... turned to delinquency.

“I acted out because I wasn’t man enough to do the mature thing and work on myself!! She blamed herself for my stupid decisions! I made mom worry for me so, so much...”

Plip, plip.

Deuce faltered, letting quiet tears dribble down his cheeks and landing on the cube of ice left in his glass. Once they made contact with the frozen block, it was impossible to tell what was water and what was salt.

“I swore to myself that I would turn my life around... to show mom that it’s not her fault, that she did all she could to raised someone who could contribute to society!! So I studied really hard at the police academy, and even though my grades were crappy, I managed to graduate...!!”

He choked up, a concoction of fiery passion infused in his stuttering words. “I can finally be that model officer and make a change in the community! But I haven’t done a damn thing...! I just play meter maid while bad guys are out there running free, when I could be out there making this city a safer place for mom and everyone that lives here...!!”

The noises of the lounge seemed to fade into a stoic silence around Deuce. His declaration reverberated loudly. “I have to do this. I need to do this.”

He bowed again, his forehead pressed hard against the surface of the table. The single word he uttered was hoarse, desperate.

“Please.”

Deuce pried himself up almost painfully. The eyes were aquamarine, wet with hot tears. Something shone through them in shades of blue and green, priceless as any treasure: an honesty that burned like an eternal flame.

Yuu startled, striken by a single, haunting revelation: He’s telling the truth.

“... I don’t think I’ve met someone like you before,” they said cryptically. “I don’t doubt your story—but as touching as it is, I don’t know if...”

Hesitation reared its head, and Yuu forced themselves to look away. Couldn’t bear to see him, that wide-eyed sincerity.

Emotion clashing with their sound logic. Two things that shouldn’t have belonged together colliding. 

Wait... things that don’t belong together? Things I didn’t expect, surprises and twists to the tale...

A ex-delinquent turned into a policeman. A selfishness turned selfless. An anticipated lie turned into a truth. Something there that hadn’t been before.

The detective’s mind raced, quickly outpacing the words leaving their mouth. A solution which subverted expectations, a trap laced with honey for a man with sticky fingers.

That’s it. We’ll pull a trick of our own.

“Okay, I’ve changed my mind,” Yuu abruptly announced. “You’re in on this operation, Mr. Spade.”

“R-Really?!” Deuce’s face nearly tore in half, his volume revving up like a motorcycle engine. “You mean it?!”

“I do.”

Yuu took a cool sip of their Mystery Drink. Flavors from all over Twisted Wonderland cascaded over their tongue—a triumphant, fleeting pleasure.

They set their glass down and bent over, gripping Deuce by the strings of his hoodie. Yuu tugged, bringing the policeman lurching forward.

His clammy forehead against theirs. Centimeters away, his eyes widened. A flushed heat climbed to his cheeks, his voice set in a stammer.

“S-Sir, what are we...”

“You’ll have to follow my instructions very carefully,” Yuu replied with a devious grin. “Listen up, rookie: cuz you’re going to be the star of this show. Here’s the plan...”

The ambience of the lounge drowned out Yuu’s whispers. From afar, their words could only be read through the shapes of their mouth, the increasingly confused and alarmed expressions that Deuce pulled.

Jade observed them patiently, chuckling to himself. “My, my, it seems like our genius detective has found yet another solution.”

CLATTER, CLATTER!!

A tray piled high with empty plates and dishes was slammed down. Jade’s twin peered around the stack, leaning lazily against the bar.

“Eeeh, but I bet against them this time.”

“Playing the contrarian runs its risks.” Jade picked up a glass, staring at his brother through it. The golden orb called his left eye was clear as a topaz. “As for myself, I’m excited to see how this plays out.”

PLAP.

A notepad came down on the table as a third waiter joined them.

“Both of you need to stop gossiping and get back to work,” their manager chided, sliding the notepad—scrawled with fresh orders—to Jade. “Leave the customers to tend to their own business. We’ll soon know the outcome.”

[To be continued...]

[yellowbrokenblue]

Right Person. Wrong Time

harry styles angst

summary: Harry’s fame puts you in danger, and he can’t let himself be the reason you get hurt

word count: 1.1k

— — —

Harry was half way through a residency as Madison Square Garden. The whole world loved him. He’d been crowned the new king of pop.

You’d left the show half way through to grab some food, and ended up wandering to take in the pretty lights of the city.

He’d barely spoken to you this morning, leaving the hotel room barely uttering a goodbye. He didn’t tell you his plans for after the show or what time he’d be back at. The past few days he’d been distant. It was unlike him considering how close you’d been for the past few months.

Apart from rehearsals and performing you’d been practically inseparable since you started dating, but now it sort of felt like he was slipping away.

He got back to the hotel room after midnight, you had reruns of an old sitcom from your childhood playing on the TV while you had been waiting for him.

“You’re late tonight.” You smile at him as he comes through the door.

“Yeah.” He says gruffly.

“You okay?” You ask, “You’re usually in a more talkative mood.”

“Been a long day.” He shrugged.

“Yeah I get it. I just feel like we haven’t spent much time together recently.”

“Yeah, because I’m working.” He snapped, “I’ve had a show like every day.”

“No, I know that-”

“Well clearly not.”

“I was just trying to be nice, no need to go all moody on me.” You roll your eyes.

“You just don’t understand what it’s like for me.”

“I don’t understand?” You scoffed, “Harry I’ve given up everything for you. I cancelled the lease on my apartment, I quit my job, I left my fiancée. Just so I could come with you on this damn tour.”

“I didn’t fucking ask you to do any of that.” He said angrily, “You done all of that on your own, don’t fucking blame that on me.”

“Stop yelling at me.”

“Then stop being a fuckin’ brat.”

You shook your head, not believing what was happening right now.

“I told you that this wasn’t going to work out, right from the beginning. I told you we should’ve just left it in Miami, but you wanted to keep it going.”

“We both wanted to keep it going, you were just too much of a coward to commit yourself to it. You can’t commit, Harry, to anything.”

He slammed his fist against the wall, knuckles turning red with the force he hit the plasterboard. His face was red with anger. With a combination of his drunken state and the heat of this argument, this was one of the worst tempers you’d ever seen from him.

“I commit. I commit every single day. To this job, this life.”

“But you can’t commit to me?” You shout, tears welling up in your eyes, “I’m just asking for a little respect here.”

“This just isn’t working out.” He said.

You’d tried to stay strong throughout this, but as soon as those words left his lips you couldn’t help but to start crying. Tears flowed down your cheeks and sobs escaped your mouth.

Harry just stood and watched.

He stood emotionless, watching you break down in front of him, every emotion you were feeling was caused by him and he looked as if he didn’t care.

“I think you should go back to Miami. Coming on the rest of the tour isn’t a good idea.”

You felt sick. You felt like you were going to vomit everywhere. A mixture of different thoughts flooded your brain.

Where would you go? You had no apartment.

How would you get a flight? You had no money.

Harry had made a promise to you that he’d take care of you while he was on the road, and now he’s here breaking that promise in a million different ways.

“You’re an asshole.”

“You should’ve listened to me before. This wouldn’t be happening right now.”

“So what went wrong, huh? You bored of me? You found someone else? Or has the alcohol just made you honest for the first time since I’ve known you.”

“God, I’ve not found someone else. There is no one else can’t you fucking see that?”

“Then why are you doing this? Why are you hurting me for no reason.” It was hard to breathe through the crying. It had already been a long day, but coming home to this had made it so much worse, “You’re standing there watching me get myself into such a state and you look like you couldn’t care less.“

“There’s always a reason.” He shouts, “Always a fucking reason.”

“Then you need to tell me. Help me understand why you’re just giving up on this. On us.”

Your heart was beating out your chest. This man, in the few months you had been together, had become your whole life. And now you were loosing him for what seemed like forever.

“If something happened to you I’d never forgive myself.”

“Nothings going to happen, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Those photographers yesterday were just the start. Ever since people found out about us, your whole safety has been jeopardised. I will not let anything happen to you because of me.”

“Harry-”

“No.” He interrupts, “You wanted an explanation so let me talk.”

“As long as you’re with me you’re not safe. People will stalk you and invade on your privacy for as long as I’m in the public eye. This isn’t the life either of us want for you.”

“I don’t give a shit about all of that, I just want you.”

“I can’t let you give up all your privacy just for me. That’s not fair.”

“This should be my decision, Harry.” You argue.

He shakes his head.

“Why couldn’t you just tell me, instead of putting on the whole asshole act.”

“I needed you to listen. I still need you to listen.”

“I am listening.”

“Well you’re not hearing me properly then. We need to be over. We can’t keep this,” He gestures between you both, “up, because it means you’re not safe.”

“Then up the security, get me a bodyguard.”

He shakes his head, and for the first time since this conversation began you could see sadness in his eyes.

“You and I both know that you don’t want a bodyguard following you around for the rest of your life.”

He reaches for your hand, placing his lips against the back of it softly.

“I’ll sort out a flight and somewhere for you to stay, don’t worry about that. This isn’t what I want to happen, it’s what needs to happen. And if somehow, somewhere in the future we’re brought back together then we will be. Just… Not right now.”

Deep down you knew he was right. The insane photographer trying to get in your cab the other night was a step too far, and no doubt something like that could happen again on a bigger more dangerous scale.

But you didn’t want to loose him.

Right person. Wrong time.

[hellishjoel]

he with the dark curls, you with the watercolor eyes

883 words / drabble main masterlist | notifications blog | ko-fi

summary: you've fallen in love with the man with the dark curls who makes your coastal life with him idyllic warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), food consumption, reader is has no physical description, brief smut, frankie fluff

a/n: I have no idea what this writing style is, but it was fun! banners by @cafekitsune &lt;3

frankie has always been a man who 'doesn't need much' he tells you this every birthday, every christmas, every anniversary he's happy with what's in front of him that includes his cottage on the water, his big dogs, and, of course, you there's nothing more he needs than waking up with your warm body curled into his side your features softened with sleep, your arm outstretched along his tan torso wedding ring wrapped around your pretty finger

he'll lean over and kiss the crown of your head before blindly reaching to his side table where dirty coffee mugs and half-read books pile up your portrait eyes meet his own honeyed amber once the dogs join the fray, jumping onto the bed and loving licking your sleepy faces, you're both as awake as you'll ever be if it's not raining and not too cold, you'll both sit on the bench at the end of the pier, wrapped up in a slate gray wool blanket as you drink a coffee in a spirited mood, frankie will fish the moody water ripples upon the hook plopping into the cobalt water frankie tugs the bait along until he feels a subtle drag before you know it, you're fondly smiling as he reacts to catching a fish as if it's his first time leashed up and wiggling with excitement, you walk the dogs along the water their noses are glued to the ground, snorting and sniffing with curiosity your boots dig into the ground and slosh with each step the dirt is still loose and wet from the recent rain that's come through you make small talk and capture pictures of your life to send back to your family and friends leaving home was difficult at first, but your coastal life has been such a dream and with frankie, you've come to realize you've never needed much else for dinner, frankie cooks the fish he caught earlier in the day you're his sous chef, working in your quaint kitchen with fuzzy slippers on, candles lit and glowing the somber home to an orange, flickering haze the dogs lay tiredly on the rug, and watch with sleep-happy eyes the cast iron skillet sizzles upon frankie flipping the fish while you work on the sides of mashed potatoes and asparagus your kisses grow lazy and sweet by the end of the night the silver moon dances across the midnight water, lighting your bedroom in a pale pearly film frankie kicks the bedroom door closed with his boot blindly, his pretty mouth smirking he always touches you like a delicate petal at first, anyway he likes to feel your skin, his palm attaching to your hip under your shirt as he walks you backward toward bed you let out a silken moan as frankie's lips work their way down to the column of your throat his teeth graze the soft skin that grows goosebumps in his wake his stubble scratches and it's just yet another reminder of how perfect he feels without trying your body has become his home being his home has become your sanctuary his hips bracket between your pretty thighs he thrusts languidly in rhythm with your heartbeat the drag of his thick cock causes your back to arch he traps you with his thick arms, your hand clutching to his bicep blinded by pleasure, frankie moans sweet nothings in your ear he whispers how much he loves you how perfect you are how amazing you feel how dedicated he is to you how happy you make him how much he loves you, again your fingers weave into his nest of dark curls, loosening the hat hair from earlier in the day his actions cause sweat to glimmer across your skin bodies glittering like the waves under a full moon the coil in your stomach is close to snapping your pleas and moans for him to finish inside of you sweetly echo in his ears he groans, feeling so lucky to have someone to spill into someone to make his own and paint in his name you reach the edge of the universe together shaking, clenching, squeezing, crying, kissing

frankie brings you back with gentle kisses, breath lost in your lungs, now retrieved you can't help but smile as he presses his forehead against your own, pulling the bedsheets up to your chest he coasts his fingers along your body mindlessly memorizing the curves, slopes, and dips like a beautiful map to his favorite place lips meet, hands hold, noses nuzzle, I love you's exchanged more than once it's a sweet mantra at this point to tell someone you love them this much, yet the meaning only grows stronger despite sharing the same three words and eight letters over, over, and over again it only heightens the sentiment frankie is reminded that he doesn't need much what else could he ask for when this is his life? how much more perfect could this get? there was no waiting to win the lottery waiting for a big, well-deserved raise waiting for his life to feel complete 

because at the end of it all when summers burn and the days are long he feels grateful to spend them with you he with the dark curls, you with the watercolor eyes 

[shadowknightapologist]

SWEET JESUS. no art after midnight should be a rule (i will never stick to it)

bust concepts... i greatly dislike vylad's, i think i made him too round?? which isn't necessarily bad but it's just BLEGH rn

i'm also not a huge fan of dante's s2 look but i think that's bc i made his skin too shiny so he looks weird/younger than his s1 version. also i'm bad at facial hair. also his eye shape might be too dramatic, they're just supposed to be more hooded bc he's tired/older. also yes, gene got a bigger redesign in this concept because i really wanted him to look way more like his dad (versus dante looking like maria) but idk if i'm 100% happy with it which is part of why these are concepts </3

any the way. notes.

nana's hair wraps are made from pieces of dante's cape.

(aphmau) eurydice's flower crown is compromised of orange blossoms, orange king zinnias, and trumpet vines, which, among other things, symbolize "purity", "friendship", "daily remembrance", and "fresh starts".

travis' earrings were a gift from his mother and help him contain/hide his demon form.

sasha and gene help each other with their hair.

amethyst is my freaking wife /silly. also i'm thinking she has albinism.

katelyn's hairstyle is technically part of her uniform, all the other lady jurors have the same style. she starts growing her hair out after being demoted/leaving. surviving jurors (ivy, teony, etc.) start growing theirs out when o'khasis starts falling apart but it's not really purposeful so much as writer symbolism.

these aren't true for every sketch bc i made it up as i went but: shadow knights, when passing for human, are distinguishable by desaturated skin tones and and red pupils. their skin and hair don't shine like normal people's do, which probably isn't realistic, but yk.

anyway. it's 5am. i'm tired. oops.

[acourtofquestions]

How I picture Celaena in Chapter 17 of Crown of Midnight when Chaol says: “The music was loud enough that it reached them out here, and at the foot of the steps, Celaena waltzed with herself. She even held the edge of her dark cloak in one hand as if it were the skirts of a ball gown, her other hand poised on the arm of an invisible partner. He didn't know if he should laugh, yell, or just go back inside and pretend he'd never seen it. She turned, an elegant sweeping motion that brought her to face him, and halted.”

[albaake]

Hey howdy, what's up? So you might be wondering where Alex has been? Well Alex somehow ended up working on a 10pg comic with each page having like 2-3 drawings-

Idk why I do this to myself. This is more of a sketchy style comic, so it is going a lot faster than my usual comics. I hope i can finish by tomorrow (tomarrow as in today since is midnight already-) and I think after that it'll be small doodles here in there. Here's some bad quality sneak peaks of the comic I'm working on, more Crowne content is all I'm gonna say~

[danikamariewrites]

You write for all SJM characters, right? Can I please request something fluffy with Ithan? :)

Come to Bed Baby

Ithan x reader

A/n: poor Ithan gets no love and he needs it, he’s been through A LOT

Warnings: none

You jolted awake sucking in a harsh breath. Sitting in bed you gripped the sheets to get your bearings. Taking a few deep breathes you told yourself over and over again that your dream wasn’t real. It wasn’t a nightmare, it was just a really odd dream. Like one of those weird, brightly colored horror movies.

Shaking your head you look to Ithan’s side of the bed hoping to find him sleeping peacefully. You sigh, disappointed you couldn’t cuddle up to your boyfriend. You look at the clock on his bedside table which reads 2:30 AM.

You only came upstairs at midnight. Ithan must still be playing video games with the Flynn and Ruhn. Throwing the covers back you climb out of bed, padding across the room to grab Ithan’s Sunball hoodie that you’ve now claimed as yours and head downstairs.

You silently creep down the stairs, pausing when you see Ithan on the couch. He’s laughing with Ruhn and Flynn, controller in hand as he stares intensely at the giant TV screen. You smile to yourself. You’re so happy to see him smile. Ithan was lost and sad for a long time after Connor died.

Once Bryce was back in his life Ruhn basically took Ithan in and he became part of the Frat Pack. They might never fill the hole Connors death left in his heart, but those three are dam good surrogate brothers.

As you lean on the railing the old wood creaked under your weight. The three males’ attention snaps to you and your cheeks heat. Ithan smiles at you handing the controller over to Flynn who wiggles his eyebrows at him. “Baby what are you doing up?”

You pad down the rest of the stairs, over to the couch, and into Ithan’s open arms. Sitting on his lap he kisses your cheek. “I thought you were going to bed?” He whispered in your ear. “I had a weird dream. I couldn’t go back to sleep without you.” You whisper back.

Pulling away from his neck you give him a fake pout. “Will you please come to bed with me? I can’t sleep without you squishy.” Ithan goes crimson at the nickname. Ruhn is kind enough to hold back his laugh, even though it’s a piss poor attempt. Flynn on the other hand cackles repeating the nickname.

Ithan stares him down borderline growling at the Fae lordling. You giggle at him. Ithan quickly stands bidding his friends goodnight, carrying you bridal style back to bed.

He throws you on the bed earning another giggle from your lips. He strips down to his boxers and slips under the covers next to you. Ithan wraps his arms around you, pulling you to his bare chest, cradling your head and stroking your hair.

“Better?” You let out a hum. “Much. Sorry if I embarrassed you squishy.” Ithan let’s out a breathy laugh. “You could never embarrass me baby.” He kisses the crown of your head whispering, “Get some sleep baby. I’ll be here all night.”

Your eyes shut, heavy with sleep. Ithan heard your breathing even out and he smiled down at you. He was so in love with you and would do anything to make you happy. Even letting you call him squishy in front of his friends.

tags: @rigelus @nyotamalfoy @auggiesolovey @bubybubsters @baybay123455 @msiecrane @aroseinvelaris @twsssmlmaa

[pedgito]

Share with the class PLEASE 👹

listen...i should be writing other things but i am here, being delusional. thinking...thinking about morning head with javi while he gets dressed for work...and telling him that stopping to show you attention will do him no good...so he's trying to stay on tasks and get through his morning routine...

could be established relationship, could be co-workers with benefits, whatever you fancy: (content warnings: midnight smutty ramblings, oral (m receiving), underlying d/s dynamics)

Toothbrush tucked away in your cheek, you grin. Javier's eyes track slowly of your body as he adjusts his tie obsessively. A little too far left, a little too far right, wiggling until was dead center.

"¿Qué pasa?" he grumbles under his breath, running his fingers through his haphazardly styled hair, eyes crossing slightly as he looks up at your hand as it reaches out to push a stray hair back into form.

"Just watching," you tell him, shrugging lazily as turning on your heels to bend over in front of him, sandwiching yourself between him and the sink as your ass drags against the front of his slacks.

You spit into the sink, pushing the toothbrush under the running water as you lean up, feeling the subtle push of Javier's hips into your ass and eyeing the smug expression on his face as he fiddled with his wrist cuffs.

He clears his throat under the guise of your rustling, wiping at your face with the hand towel folded by the sink before you're turning, fingers wrapped around the edge of the sink.

There's a moment of recognition that crosses his glossed over gaze as you sink to your knees, careful to not disturb his tucked in and double starched shirt, unzipping his slacks and watching with a satisfied grin as he works his dick through the zipper, your lips pressing against the velvet skin, his cock hardening promptly to your touch.

His eyebrows raise for moment as your tongue circles the head of his cock, mouth parting in a silent groan, your eyes focused on his expression as his brow furrows and his eyes downcast in your direction.

"Don't let me distract you," you coo, offering a gentle smile as your lips push beyond the head of his cock and down, your hand circling around the bit of his shaft that your mouth couldn't take.

Javier groans audibly above you and you feel the tense of his muscles in his thighs, know that his jaw is clenched as he curses out a low, "Fuck, cosa linda," under his breath, a hand digging into the hair at the crown of your scalp, fingers curling around the back of your head.

You pull of suddenly, "Ah, no," you chastise, "get ready—or I'll stop."

Javier's tongue rolls over the front of his teeth in a silent reprimand that never comes, a smirk pulling at his lips.

You'd be paying for it later, but you didn't care.

-

SORRY IDK WHAT HAPPENED TO ME HERE LMAO also thank you @quinnnfabrgay for wanting to listen to my unhinged-ness too

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

The Equinox Ball | Sebastian Sallow x OC #41

Summary: Evangeline attends the Equinox Ball with Sebastian. They share a lovely evening, though she spends much of it grappling with her own insecurities and trying to understand why Sebastian’s demeanor is so different than usual.

Words: ~7,600

Tags: Fluff, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Body Image, Insecurity, Mutual Pining, Friends To Lovers, Slow Burn, Longing, Unspoken Feelings, Fluff Again, Romance, Idiots in Love, Soft Moments, Plus/Mid-size Protagonist, Self Worth, Body Positivity, Insecurities, Hurt/Comfort

Timeline: Late March

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The Gryffindor dormitory was abuzz with the kind of chaotic excitement that only a Hogwarts event could inspire. Evangeline sat perched on the edge of her four-poster bed, a row of enchanted hairpins hovering in the air as Cressida directed them with a flick of her wand. The pins spun like tiny golden dragonflies, occasionally darting toward Evangeline’s dark hair before Cressida clicked her tongue in frustration.

“Hold still, Evie,” Cressida chided, her freckled nose scrunching in concentration. “If you keep fidgeting, these pins are going to end up looking like a niffler’s nest.”

Evangeline let out a nervous laugh, “I can’t help it,” she admitted, glancing toward the mirror on her vanity. Her reflection stared back at her, eyes wide with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.

Behind her, Natty hummed softly as she adjusted the delicate beaded sash around her waist. Her dress was stunning—a rich, deep blue that shimmered in the light. The fitted bodice and flowing skirt perfectly complemented her lithe figure, and her hair was braided in an intricate crown that gave her an almost regal air.

Cressida, on the other hand, had opted for an off-the-shoulder gown in a vibrant sunset orange that seemed to glow against her fair skin and tawny curls. She looked radiant, her freckles standing out like tiny constellations against her flushed cheeks as she worked on finishing touches for Evangeline.

"Garreth will be blown away, Cress." Natsai murmured dreamily, reaching to push a lock of Cressida's hair behind her ear.

Cressida giggled. “Good,” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “It’s about time I left him speechless. He’s been making me wait long enough.”

Evangeline managed a small smile at their banter, though her thoughts wandered. Tonight was supposed to be a night of lighthearted fun—a reprieve from the mounting pressure of their N.E.W.Ts and the weight of expectations that came with their final year at Hogwarts. But no matter how much she tried to convince herself to keep things simple, there was a fluttering in her chest she couldn’t ignore. A small, foolish part of her hoped this evening might turn out to be more than just a distraction. It felt like a night for grand impressions, for moments that lingered like stardust long after the clock struck midnight.

She blinked as Cressida gave her a final twirl of her wand, securing the last hairpin into place. Her dark hair cascaded in gentle curls, framing her face, with delicate strands pulled back and pinned into a soft knot at the crown of her head.

“There,” Cressida said, stepping back with a satisfied smile. “Now you look positively royal.”

Evangeline laughed softly, self-conscious at the praise, but she couldn’t deny that the styling had worked wonders. She felt... different.

“I feel like I’m about to step into a fairy tale,” she murmured, half to herself.

“Well, you are about to,” Natty said, glancing at her with a soft smile. “Now, get moving. You need to get into that dress, or we’ll be late.”

Evangeline gave a startled laugh at the urgency in Natty’s voice. “I know, I know,” she said, pushing herself off the bed. “I’ll be right back.”

She made her way to the wardrobe where her dress was hanging. It had arrived that morning, a special order from Gladrags Wizardwear, a place known for its exquisite, high-end garments. The gown, a stunning shade of emerald green, was breathtaking in its design. It had intricate embroidery winding its way up the bodice, like delicate vines, with a hint of gold woven into the fabric. The sleeves, sheer and delicate, billowed gently, like the mist that clung to the Forbidden Forest in the early mornings. The skirt, full and flowing, seemed like it belonged to a fairy tale princess.

But the gown hadn’t come in Evangeline’s size.

She’d nearly walked out of the store when Augustus, the owner of Gladrags, had chased after her. He’d noticed the way her eyes lingered on the dress, the way she touched the fabric gently.

“You’ve got the spirit for this one,” Augustus had said with an easy smile, his hands brushing over the fabric as if it were meant to belong to her. “No one walks out of here empty-handed. We’ll make it work.”

At first, Evangeline had refused, certain it was a waste of time. The dress would need to be completely remade, adjusted for her exact measurements. It was something that happened far too often—finding beautiful clothes only to have them mock her size. She had never been able to completely escape the sense that her body set her apart, made her different, never quite like the other girls who wore skirts and gowns and tops that flattered their delicate frames.

But Augustus wouldn’t hear it. He insisted on getting it specially remade, no charge for the extra materials or the alterations. “I won’t hear another word about it,” he had said, his tone kind but firm.

And so, reluctantly, Evangeline agreed, but the entire process had been filled with unease. She had never tried it on before—had never seen herself in it until this very moment.

Her fingers brushed the fabric as she pulled the dress from its hanger, a wave of nervousness sweeping over her. Would it even fit?

She carried the gown to the other side of the bed to change, swallowing hard as she stepped into it. The fabric was cool against her skin, but it clung in a way that made her feel exposed. The bodice tightened around her chest and waist, and for a moment, Evangeline just stood there, staring at her reflection in silence.

“Evie?” Natty called from across the room, her voice filled with quiet anticipation. “Everything okay?”

"I’ll be out in a second," she called back, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

Carefully, she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear before stepping toward the full-length mirror again. The dress was beautiful, no question about it. But was she?

Evangeline turned this way and that, inspecting every curve, every line. Her eyes dropped to her midsection, where the dress felt a little too tight for her liking. The fabric hugged her curves, the lines around her waist seemed more pronounced than they were supposed to be, and for a brief moment, a sinking feeling spread in her chest. She wasn’t thin, and the reminder of that was there, in the fabric, in the way the dress didn’t quite fit the way she’d imagined it should.

Her heart beat faster as her nerves flared. She heard Cressida and Natty talking just around the corner, their voices light with excitement, but she felt a pang of uncertainty. What if they saw how tight it was? What if they noticed the curve of her stomach? What if—

“Merlin's beard!”

The exclamation was so unexpected, Evangeline jumped, her heart leaping into her throat. She spun around, startled, to find Cressida standing at the edge of the bed, eyes wide with astonishment. The look on her face was a mixture of disbelief and admiration.

Cressida’s eyes flicked over her from head to toe, her mouth dropping open as she stared, clearly caught off guard. “You look… absolutely stunning.”

Evangeline’s cheeks flushed with an instinctive mix of embarrassment and surprise. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words didn’t come.

"Natty you've got to see this!" Cressida added, her voice rising with excitement. "Honestly, I've got half a mind to lock you in the common room, lest all of our dates stare at you instead of us!"

Before Evie could find the words to respond, Natty’s voice chimed in, filled with the same warmth and excitement as Cressida’s. “You look… Evie, you look incredible,” she said, her eyes scanning over her in quiet admiration. “No one will be able to take their eyes off of you.”

Evangeline felt her chest tighten. She offered a shaky smile, trying to keep the flutter in her heart from showing. “Thank you both. I... I don’t know what to say. You two look stunning, too.”

Cressida beamed, spinning around once more in her orange gown. “If you ask me, we’re all destined for greatness tonight.”

“And now that we're all ready, we should head down,” Natty said with a smile, already moving toward the door. “Can’t keep the boys waiting.”

As the three girls made their way to the common room, their voices a soft buzz of excitement and shared joy, the atmosphere shifted, the pulse of the evening drawing closer with each step.

When they reached the stairs, Evangeline caught sight of a very well-dressed Garreth waiting near the entrance, his grin wide and unmissable. As soon as he saw Cressida, his eyes practically lit up, a pleased whistle escaping his lips.

“Well, well, well,” he drawled, winking at Cressida. “Look who decided to finally make an appearance.”

Cressida rolled her eyes playfully, but she couldn’t hide the flush of pleasure that crept up her neck. “Not too shabby yourself,” she replied, giving him a teasing once-over before linking her arm through his.

When they stepped through the portait hole, Natty, too, was met with Amit, who was already waiting for her. His eyes lit up and he gave her a warm, welcoming smile. “You look radiant, Natsai,” he said, his voice as soft as always, but with a certain reverence in his tone.

“Thank you, Amit,” Natty responded, her voice full of appreciation.

“Well, looks like it’s time for us to make our grand entrance,” Cressida said, giving Evangeline one final, encouraging smile. “Don’t keep us waiting too long, alright?”

Evangeline nodded, her heart pounding a little harder now. “I won’t,” she promised, her voice firmer than she felt.

With one last look, she watched as her friends headed down the hallway, arm in arm with their dates. She took a deep breath, gathering herself before turning on her heel, making her way toward the Undercroft, where she would meet Anne, Ominis, and Sebastian before heading to the Great Hall herself.

The corridors were alive with the hum of excitement. Everywhere Evangeline looked, students—mostly younger ones, their faces aglow with awe—gawked at the upperclassmen dressed for the occasion. Their whispers drifted through the air, light as a summer breeze, but charged with admiration. A few of the fifth-year boys, her fellow Gryffindors, seemed to freeze as she passed, their mouths parting in disbelief. Evangeline could feel their eyes following her, their admiration palpable, and though a part of her wanted to shrink away, another part of her couldn’t help but feel a rush of exhilaration.

She caught snippets of their conversations as they tried (and failed) to hide their stunned stares. “Did you see her? She’s—she’s—” one of them stammered.

“She’s… she’s beautiful,” another whispered, almost reverently.

Evangeline’s cheeks flushed with warmth at their words, but as quickly as the thrill washed over her, insecurity crept in. The dress, the looks—it was all so much, so different from the girl she saw in the mirror every other day. Despite the compliments, she couldn’t shake the feeling that any moment, the illusion would crack.

Her heart thudded with nerves as she neared the Undercroft. She couldn’t help but imagine what Sebastian’s reaction would be when he saw her—would he be as speechless as the fifth-years? Would he see her the same way they did? What if he didn’t like it? What if he saw the insecurities that seemed so glaring in the reflection of a gown like this?

With one final steadying breath, she stepped through the door.

The soft flicker of candlelight met her eyes as the familiar, comforting warmth of the Undercroft enveloped her. Anne was the first to look up, her gaze instantly widening as she took in Evangeline’s appearance.

“Oh my goodness, Evie,” Anne breathed, taking a step forward. She was tall and slender, a striking contrast to Evangeline’s curvy figure, but the two of them shared an undeniable warmth that made their bond unmistakable. Anne’s dress was a soft, delicate shade of blue, a cascading chiffon that trailed behind her like the glimmer of a winter sky. The high neckline was offset by a slight V at the back, where a delicate silver chain added just a touch of sparkle.

“Sebastian is going to lose his mind when he sees you,” she said, her voice a blend of admiration and teasing. “Honestly, I think half of Hogwarts will.”

Evangeline couldn’t help but chuckle nervously, her cheeks flushing with warmth at the compliment. “I doubt that,” she muttered. But Anne wasn’t having any of it. She leaned in, her gaze dropping to Evangeline’s shoes before moving back up.

“I’m serious, Evie,” Anne continued, her voice light and full of knowing. “You look incredible. Doesn't she, Ominis?"

Ominis, who had been quietly observing from his spot near the far wall, lifted his wand and gave a slight nod, his expression softening. His voice was low, but there was no mistaking the warmth in it as he responded.

“Anne’s right,” he said simply. “You look beautiful, Evangeline."

Evangeline shot him a grateful smile. “Thank you,"

She was just about to say more, hoping to change the subject and return their compliments, when the sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway, pulling her attention toward the entrance. Anne raised an eyebrow as she glanced over at Evangeline.

“Well, there he is,” she said with a mischievous smile.

Evangeline’s pulse quickened. This is it. This is the moment.

The heavy door to the Undercroft creaked open, and Sebastian stepped into the room.

For a heartbeat, everything seemed to freeze.

Sebastian stopped just inside the doorway, his easy confidence dissolving into stillness. For a moment, he didn’t move, his dark eyes widening slightly as they took Evangeline in. His lips parted, but no words came, his usual composure slipping away entirely.

Her heart plummeted. The silence stretched, and in the span of a second, her insecurities came rushing in, louder and more vicious than ever. He hates it. He thinks I look ridiculous. Her hands instinctively smoothed over the fabric of her gown, her fingers brushing against the way it hugged her stomach—a detail she was far too aware of.

He’s noticing how tight it is, how it pulls across my middle. How my chest is practically spilling out of it. Heat crept up her neck, and she had to fight the urge to cross her arms over herself, to hide the parts of her body she wished the dress didn’t highlight so unforgivingly.

Why had she ever thought this would be a good idea? That she could wear something like this and not look absurd?

But then, Sebastian spoke.

“Evangeline,” he murmured, his voice strained, though not with judgment as she’d feared. It was something else entirely—something softer, heavier. Surprise, yes, but also awe.

Her eyes darted up to meet his, and she caught the way his gaze flickered over her, lingering just a moment longer than it should on the gentle curve of her waist, the way the gown’s neckline framed her figure. He swallowed hard, his lips pressing together briefly as if to steady himself.

“You look stunning,” he said, the words tumbling out as though he couldn’t hold them back.

Evangeline’s chest tightened and a nervous laugh threatened to spill out. “It’s just a dress,” she managed, her voice quiet and uncertain. “I mean, I’ve never—”

“No,” Sebastian interrupted, his voice soft but insistent. He stepped closer, closing the space between them. “It's not just the dress, it's you,” He paused, searching for the right words, his gaze unwavering now as it met hers. “You look perfect.”

The sincerity in his tone hit her like a spell, disarming her completely. There was no teasing smirk, no playful glint in his eyes—just pure, unfiltered truth. And the way he said it, like the very thought of her being anything less was absurd, made her heart flutter in a way that left her momentarily breathless.

“Thanks,” she whispered.

“See, I told you he wouldn’t be able to keep it together,” Anne said with a wink, nudging Ominis playfully. “Now, are we ready? We're going to miss out on the champagne if we don't get going,” she added, already heading for the door. Ominis gave a small nod, a quiet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

The silence between Evangeline and Sebastian stretched for a heartbeat before he took a slow step forward and offered his arm, his eyes avoiding hers for a moment. The usual self-assuredness he carried was gone, replaced by a soft hesitation that felt… new. It was as though the role of the confident, teasing Sebastian had slipped away, revealing a side of him Evangeline wasn’t accustomed to seeing—vulnerable, bashful, almost shy.

She hesitated, just for a second, before reaching out to take his arm, her fingers brushing against the sleeve of his perfectly fitted suit.

"Ready?" he asked.

Evangeline gave a small nod, her stomach fluttering despite herself. "I think so."

With that, Sebastian led her out of the Undercroft, the quiet hum of the evening’s festivities greeting them as they stepped into the main corridor. The sounds of laughter and chatter echoed faintly as they walked side by side, the silence between them charged.

When they entered the Great Hall, Evangeline’s breath caught in her throat.

The entire space had been transformed into a lush, magical garden. Vines of glowing flowers crept up the stone walls, their soft, radiant light casting a warm glow over the guests. A delicate canopy of twinkling stars hovered overhead, enchanted to resemble the night sky, while floating lanterns drifted lazily through the air, casting a gentle golden light. Couples wandered through the scene, admiring the beauty of the hall, the enchanted flora and fauna adding a touch of wonder to the evening.

"So," Sebastian began, breaking the silence, though his voice still held a faint trace of hesitation, "What do you think?"

Evangeline smiled, her gaze drifting over the breathtaking scenery. "It's beautiful."

Sebastian glanced at her as they made their way through the crowd, his arm still tucked against hers. “Not as beautiful as you,” he said, the words tumbling out quickly, almost impulsively.

She felt her cheeks warm. “What was that?”

Sebastian coughed. “Uh, I said the hall. The hall is beautiful.”

A soft laugh escaped her, and she shook her head. “Right.”

They wove through the clusters of students and faculty, exchanging polite nods and greetings with familiar faces. Despite the buzz of conversation and laughter around them, a peculiar bubble of nervous energy seemed to envelop the two of them.

“Is it just me, ,” Evangeline ventured, trying to lighten the mood, “Or do you seem… unusually polite tonight? I mean, where’s the snark? The quips? Did you leave them back in the Undercroft?”

Sebastian let out a soft laugh, his lips curving into a small smile as he glanced at her. “Oh, come on. You’re making me sound like a heathen.”

“Well,” she teased, her eyes sparkling, “you do have a habit of barging into places uninvited. Like the Prefects’ Bathroom.”

Sebastian smirked, though the faint blush creeping up his cheeks betrayed his composed facade. “Oh, is that how we’re framing it now? Because if I remember correctly, you’re the one who told me to stay. Something about ‘not making it weird,��� wasn’t it?”

Evangeline’s cheeks flushed, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “I was being polite.”

“Polite,” Sebastian echoed, his smirk growing. “Right. And that’s why you let me help shampoo your hair? Very polite of you, Evie.”

She gasped, her face heating as she lightly smacked his arm. “Sebastian! Keep your voice down!”

His laugh was warm and genuine, and despite her embarrassment, she found herself smiling. “Relax,” he said, holding up his free hand in mock surrender. “I’m just saying, you’re not exactly an innocent party here.”

Her smile faltered for a heartbeat, the playful banter taking on a weight she wasn’t sure how to navigate. Before she could formulate a response, they arrived at a long table adorned with shimmering crystal glasses filled with champagne. The table was surrounded by clusters of students, all chatting and laughing as they admired the enchanted decor.

Sebastian released her arm and picked up two glasses, handing one to her with a small, almost shy smile. “Here."

Evangeline took the glass, her fingers brushing against his for a brief moment.

Sebastian raised his glass slightly, his eyes meeting hers for a moment before he glanced away, the faintest hint of a blush creeping up his neck. “To tonight,” he said, his voice quiet but sincere.

Evangeline tilted her head, her lips curving into a small smile. “To tonight."

They sipped their champagne in silence, the gentle hum of the Great Hall weaving between them. For the first time so far, Sebastian wasn’t looking at her. His focus drifted to the clusters of students and the enchanting decor, leaving Evangeline with a precious chance to truly look at him. She hadn’t had the courage to study him like this yet—not with his gaze so often meeting hers, leaving her flustered and shy. But now, with his attention elsewhere, she let herself take him in.

He stood tall and self-assured, his tailored black suit hugging his frame perfectly. The fabric stretched over his broad shoulders and tapered down his strong torso, every detail seemingly crafted to highlight the confidence that came so naturally to him. The crisp, black dress shirt underneath added an edge, while the emerald green tie—a perfect match to her dress—provided a striking pop of color that brought out the warmth in his brown eyes—a detail she’d always loved but now seemed more striking than ever.

His hair, usually tousled in a charmingly disheveled way, was neatly styled tonight, the dark strands swept back just enough to highlight the sharp angles of his jaw and the confident line of his cheekbones.

He had always been attractive, of course. But tonight… tonight he was something else entirely. Tonight he was dauntingly, breathtakingly handsome. The kind of handsome that reminded Evangeline why she’d never been able to look at anyone else the way she looked at him.

As if sensing her gaze, Sebastian glanced at her, his lips curving into a faint, questioning smile. “What?”

Evangeline’s cheeks flushed, and she quickly looked away, taking another sip of champagne to cover her reaction. “Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like ‘nothing,’” he said, the teasing lilt back in his voice as he shifted closer. “You were staring.”

“I was not staring,” she shot back, though her face burned with the effort of lying.

He leaned in slightly, his eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. “Oh, really?"

“I…” She hesitated, the words sticking in her throat. "Fine. You caught me. I was… just noticing how different you look tonight.”

He straightened slightly, his eyes scanning her face as if trying to decipher her meaning. “Different? Good different, or…?”

She bit her lip, hating how unsteady her voice sounded in her own ears. “Good. Definitely good. You… you look really nice tonight, Sebastian.”

He blinked, his grin fading into something gentler, something unguarded. For a moment, he looked as though he wanted to say something, but instead, he glanced away, a tinge of pink rising on his cheeks.

“Thanks, Evie,” he murmured. “That… means a lot.”

Her heart fluttered at the way he said her name, the way his voice softened just enough to make it feel like it was meant only for her. She wanted to say more, to tease him about the blush creeping up his neck or the way he suddenly seemed so bashful, but the words wouldn't come.

Sebastian cleared his throat, his eyes narrowing at something across the hall. “You know,” he began, his tone light but with a trace of hesitation, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to bring up.”

Evangeline raised a brow, her curiosity piqued as she turned to look at him. “Oh? What’s that?”

He gestured toward the far end of the rooom with his glass. “Come on. Let’s take a walk.”

She nodded, allowing him to guide her away from the table and toward the less crowded edges of the Great Hall. The hum of conversation softened as they moved, replaced by the faint sound of their footsteps against the polished floor. Lanterns floated by overhead, their soft light making the moment feel strangely intimate despite the lively atmosphere.

Sebastian let out a soft, nervous laugh as they walked, his fingers brushing against the edge of his tie as if trying to distract himself. “So, there’s something I need to tell you”

Evangeline raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “That sounds ominous. What is it?”

He hesitated, his gaze flicking ahead toward the far end of the long room where Leander Prewett and Poppy Sweeting stood, their heads close together as they laughed about something. The sight of them seemed to bolster his resolve, and he gestured subtly toward the pair. “See them?”

Evangeline followed his gaze. She smiled at the sight of Poppy’s radiant expression, her laughter bright and genuine. Leander looked just as smitten, his posture almost protective as he stood close to her, his usual demeanor softened into something almost endearing.

“Yes,” she said slowly, her gaze flicking back to Sebastian. “They've been joined at the hip for weeks now. What about them?”

He scratched the back of his neck, the faintest blush creeping up his cheeks. “Well… you know how you told me about Poppy’s, uh, feelings for Leander?”

Evangeline froze, her stomach dropping. “What did you do?”

He raised both hands in surrender, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “Relax! It all worked out, didn’t it? Just—hear me out.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she folded her arms, tilting her head expectantly. “I’m listening.”

Sebastian let out a breath. “Alright, so… Leander cornered me in the library a couple of weeks ago. Said he needed advice on asking you to the ball.”

Evangeline’s jaw dropped. “Me? Again?”

“Yeah, well,” Sebastian said, his grin turning wry, “apparently he didn’t get the hint the first fifty times you turned him down for other things.”

She groaned, rubbing her temples. “Merlin’s beard, that man is persistent.”

“Tell me about it,” Sebastian muttered. “Anyway, he was going on, asking me about how to approach you, and I just—” He paused, his grin growing as he glanced at her. “I couldn’t take it anymore, Evie. I know how you feel about him, and I figured… well, why not redirect his energy?”

Her brow furrowed. “What does that even mean?”

“It means,” Sebastian said, his voice laced with amusement, “that I might have let slip about Poppy.”

Evangeline gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “Sebastian! You didn’t.”

“Oh, I did,” he said with a laugh, clearly unrepentant. “And look at them now!”

Evangeline turned her gaze back to the pair, and despite her initial shock, she couldn’t deny it. Poppy’s cheeks were flushed, her expression glowing as she spoke animatedly to Leander, who was watching her with an intensity that made Evangeline’s heart soften despite herself.

“I can’t believe you,” she said, though her tone lacked the bite she intended. “That was not your secret to share.”

“Maybe not,” Sebastian admitted, his grin turning a little softer, more self-aware. “But you want Poppy to be happy, right? And I figured Leander might actually stand a chance at making her happy if he stopped chasing after someone who was never going to say yes.”

Evangeline opened her mouth to argue but found herself unable to. As much as she hated to admit it, he had a point. “And Leander didn’t… mess it up?” she asked, glancing at Sebastian.

“Shockingly, no,” Sebastian said, chuckling. “Apparently, once I gave him a push in the right direction, he got over his nerves pretty quickly. Asked her to the ball later that same day. And judging by how they’ve been acting ever since, I’d say it went pretty well. Poppy deserves someone who adores her, and Leander… well, he needed a reality check. Win-win.”

She glanced at the pair again, her smile softening. “I guess you’re right. They do look happy.”

Sebastian leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a teasing murmur. “And admit it—you’re relieved you didn’t have to let him down yourself. Again.”

Evangeline rolled her eyes, though the warmth in her expression betrayed her. “Fine. You win this one.”

Sebastian smirked, clearly pleased with himself. “As I should. Now, come on,” he said, gesturing toward a group of their friends, “We should say hello before they accuse me of monopolizing your time.”

The evening seemed to slip by in a blur of laughter, soft music, and the delicate clink of glasses. The magical garden that had transformed the Great Hall set the perfect backdrop for the mingling students and faculty, all dressed in their finest, gathered in pairs and groups, chatting, eating, and enjoying the enchanting atmosphere.

Evangeline and Sebastian moved through the crowd, collecting drinks and hors d'oeuvres as they went, engaging in the easy banter they were both so familiar with. Every so often, their conversation would dip into the gossip circulating among the students.

“Did you hear about the latest between Thaddeus and Bethilda?” Sebastian asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Evangeline smirked, taking a sip of her drink. “Oh, I did. Caught arguing in the corridor—again?! Honestly, I don’t know what’s keeping them together at this point.”

Sebastian’s lips twitched in amusement. “It’s definitely not their stellar communication skills.”

“Clearly,” she replied with a chuckle. “It’s like watching a couple of porcupines trying to snuggle. It’s painful to witness.”

He laughed, the sound light and warm, filling the space between them with a comforting ease. Yet, Evangeline couldn’t shake the subtle shift in his energy tonight. The teasing, confident Sebastian she knew so well was still present, but it was wrapped in a layer of quiet restraint.

His movements, normally bold and unguarded, carried a new kind of deliberation. When he guided her through the tight spaces between groups of students, his hand lingered on her waist just a fraction longer than necessary, the warmth of his touch seeping through the delicate fabric of her dress. And when they paused to exchange pleasantries with other couples, his fingers would find hers almost instinctively, his thumb brushing softly over her knuckles—a gesture so gentle, so intimate, that it sent a quiet thrill coursing through her veins.

A few hours into their evening, Sebastian gently guided her toward the table laden with treats, the scent of fresh pastries and delicate confections filling the air. The spread was a feast for the senses—small cakes and tarts, intricate sugar sculptures, platters of bite-sized delicacies, and even a few chocolate-covered fruits glistening under the soft light.

Sebastian’s fingers hovered over a platter of delicate pastries, his eyes scanning the options. He picked up a small chocolate eclair, his lips curling into a mischievous smile as he bit into it, clearly enjoying the rich flavor.

"Careful," Evangeline teased lightly, though her voice was soft, almost wistful. "You'll spoil your appetite. They haven't even brought out the main dishes."

He glanced up, a playful glint in his eyes. “I think I’m already too far gone,” he joked, wiping a bit of chocolate from the corner of his mouth. "You should try one of these. They’re amazing."

Evangeline’s eyes lingered on the plate of confections, her chest tightening. She’d already indulged a little, sampling a few sweets earlier when she’d tried to relax into the festive atmosphere. But now... she hesitated.

Around her, other girls were laughing and chatting as they picked at the spread. Their gowns looked so ethereal on their slender frames, their movements graceful and effortless. They didn’t seem to think twice about enjoying the food. There was an ease to their motions that Evangeline envied, a kind of freedom she could never quite grasp.

It was silly, she knew, to feel so self-conscious about eating in front of anyone. And yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling that because of her size, the judgment would be there, lurking. Even if no one said anything, even if no one looked at her with anything but kindness—she still felt it, that internalized insecurity.

“I’m alright for now,” she said, her voice a little more controlled than she felt. She gave a quick glance down at her waist.

"You sure?" Sebastian's eyes narrowed, "They have cheesecake, and I know cheesecake's your favorite."

Evangeline’s stomach gave an involuntary lurch. She did love cheesecake—rich, velvety, and decadent. But the thought of her dress growing tighter, of the fabric hugging her curves even more than she was already struggling to be comfortable with, made her chest tighten. She could already imagine the feel of the fabric pulling across her midsection, the self-conscious flush creeping up her neck. The fear of someone noticing, or Merlin forbid, saying something… she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“I’m fine, really,” she told him, her voice a little too high-pitched.

Sebastian studied her for a moment, his gaze lingering on her face with a softness that caught Evangeline off guard. But, to her relief, he didn’t press her. Instead, he gave her a small, reassuring smile.

“Alright,” he relented, “but we can at least get you another drink, yeah?” He reached for another chocolate truffle and with slanted grin, he popped it into his mouth then offered his hand. “Come on."

Sebastian led her to a nearby table where an array of colorful drinks shimmered under the glow of floating lanterns. Crystal pitchers held concoctions of every hue—deep ruby reds, vibrant emerald greens, golden ambers—each more enticing than the last. He picked up a glass, inspecting the options with a faint grin before opting for the spiked lemonade. With practiced ease, he poured the fizzy, yellow drink into a delicate glass and handed it to her.

Evangeline accepted the glass, her fingers brushing his briefly as she took it. The cool condensation tickled her palm, a contrast to the warmth that lingered from his touch. She brought it to her lips, pausing to glance at him. “Thanks,” she said softly, her voice barely audible over the murmur of the room.

Just as she was about to take a sip, a sharp, commanding voice cut through the lively chatter like a well-cast Severing Charm.

“Good evening, students,” Headmaster Black announced, his voice amplified by magic to carry across the Great Hall. He stood at the head of the room, his expression as stern and imperious as ever. The hall fell silent almost immediately, save for the soft rustle of robes and the occasional clink of a glass.

“Thank you all for attending this year’s Equinox Ball,” Black continued, his tone crisp and formal. “It is a rare pleasure to see you all dressed appropriately for a change. Now, as is tradition, we shall commemorate the evening with the first formal dance—a wizarding waltz that has graced these halls for generations. I encourage you all to partake. Partners, to the floor.”

A ripple of excitement spread through the hall as couples began moving toward the center, the polished floor glowing faintly as the enchanted orchestra began to play the first notes of a delicate, timeless melody. The waltz’s lilting rhythm filled the space, weaving through the murmurs of the crowd like an invisible thread.

The notes wrapped around Evangeline, tugging her toward memories of a time long past. The last time she had danced so formally was at the Solstice Ball, more than a year ago now. Back then, she had been with Lysander, her heart caught between the weight of pure-blood tradition and the restless uncertainty that had lingered in her soul. That night had been a performance, one that left no room for her own desires, no space for truth.

But now… now she was standing beside Sebastian, his gaze warm, his smile softer than usual. There were no roles to play, no masks to wear, no lingering obligations or expectations, just the invitation in his eyes. She'd known this moment was coming; it was a ball after all. But to see Sebastian—her Sebastian—the charming, handsome, infuriating man she'd been in love with all this time, offer his hand to her, was something out of her dreams.

"Evangeline," Sebastian said her name so gently it felt like an anchor in the sea of her swirling thoughts. "Would you like to dance?"

She nodded, a small, nervous smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I'd love to."

Sebastian's smile widened, and without a moment's hesitation, he gently took her hand, his fingers warm and sure against her skin. The soft pressure steadied her as he led her to the center of the room, weaving through the other couples already swaying to the music. When they reached the center, he turned to face her, positioning her with a natural ease that made her feel both grounded and weightless all at once.

His hand found her waist, settling there like it had always belonged, while his other hand held hers. It wasn’t the firm, practiced hold of someone trained for ballroom dances; it was something gentler, more instinctive. More… Sebastian.

At first, they moved simply, sticking to the basics—a steady rhythm of steps, a gentle back-and-forth as they found their footing together. And as the melody swelled and the other couples around them fell into their own graceful rhythms, Evangeline’s eyes drifted across the room. Her gaze caught on Anne and Ominis, their movements fluid and effortless, the height difference between them almost poetic. Anne’s slender frame twirled with elegance, her dress flowing like water as Ominis, ever composed, guided her with the kind of understated confidence that made them look as though they’d stepped out of a painting.

The sight made Evangeline’s stomach twist with a flicker of doubt. She couldn’t help but compare herself—Do I even look like I belong here with Sebastian? she thought, her eyes flicking to him as they swayed.

Sebastian—so effortlessly handsome it was maddening. He looked like he belonged on a ballroom floor, like he could charm his way through anything. And Evangeline? She felt out of place, too big, too plain next to someone who every girl in the school pined after.

And yet, here he was, dancing with her.

Why?

The thought clawed at her as Sebastian shifted his grip. His hand slid a little lower on her waist, pulling her closer until their bodies molded together. She felt the steady rise and fall of his chest, the soft warmth of his breath ghosting against her temple. The music seemed to fade, leaving only the sound of his heartbeat—a steady rhythm she could feel against her cheek when she rested her head lightly against him.

His fingers splayed at the small of her back, sending a spark racing through her veins. The closeness between them felt like something fragile and precious, a moment suspended in time. Evangeline closed her eyes briefly, letting herself lean into him, taking in the warmth of his hands and the solid comfort of his presence.

"What were you thinking about?" He asked, his voice low. It vibrated though his chest and against her cheek.

Evangeline’s breath hitched. “Nothing,” she murmured quickly, her voice soft and unconvincing.

“Evie,” he said softly, cutting through her deflection. His thumb brushed against the fabric at her waist, a barely-there movement, but one that sent a wave of heat through her. “You’re tense. I can feel it.”

She swallowed hard, her fingers tightening against his shoulder. “I’m not tense,” she protested weakly.

His brow arched, the corner of his mouth lifting into a knowing half-smile. “You forget who you’re talking to,” he said, his tone softer now, almost coaxing. “So, tell me—what’s going on in that head of yours?”

Evangeline hesitated, her gaze darting away to focus on some distant point in the room. “It’s stupid,” she admitted, her voice barely audible over the music.

Sebastian studied her for a long moment, his brow furrowing slightly as though he were piecing together a puzzle. His gaze softened, the teasing glint fading to something deeper, something quieter. The hand at her waist shifted, his fingers tightening just enough to draw her into him, her chest pressing against his.

He dipped his head slightly, his voice low and gentle as he said, “I see. It's about what you said in the Prefect's Bathroom isn't it? About... thinking you're not good enough."

Evangeline froze, her breath catching in her throat. How does he know?

She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her hazel eyes wide with surprise and something that looked a lot like vulnerability. “What?” she whispered.

Sebastian’s thumb brushed against her waist again. "Is that why you didn't want to eat earlier?"

Evangeline stiffened, her heart stuttering in her chest. For a moment, she felt mortified, like the floor should swallow her up and end the awkwardness of the situation. She instinctively pulled away just slightly, as if the distance would shield her from the vulnerability in his words.

“Sebastian, don’t—” She faltered, but Sebastian’s hand on her back tightened just enough to keep her in place.

“I wish,” he said softly, “that I could take away every single one of those feelings. Every moment you’ve felt… less than. Every time someone’s made you doubt yourself. It kills me to know that you’ve been carrying all that for so long.” His voice grew thicker with emotion, his brow furrowing with something close to frustration. “I’d hex every single person who’s ever made you feel like you weren’t enough. I’d curse them all just to make you see what I see. You're beautiful, Evangeline. You always have been. And you don’t need to change a single thing about yourself. You don’t need to shrink yourself to fit into some stupid box.”

He laughed, almost to himself, before he continued, his voice softening. “Back when I ruined your bath, meant what I said. You’re not an alternative, or some plan B, or secondary. Evie, you…” His words paused, as if searching for the right ones. Then, he gave a half-shake of his head, his gaze locking with hers. “You’re not just enough—you’re more than anyone could ever expect."

Evangeline’s breath caught, her heart stumbling in her chest. She didn’t know how to respond. No one had ever looked at her like that before—not Alaric, and certainly not Lysander. Never had anyone gazed upon her with such unwavering certainty, with the kind of affection that made her feel so seen. And the way he said it… it wasn’t just a compliment. It felt like a confession—raw, vulnerable, and full of a truth she hadn’t allowed herself to believe.

Evangeline’s throat ached with the weight of everything she wanted to say, everything she couldn’t quite bring herself to believe.

“Sebastian,” she whispered, her voice trembling, “you don’t have to say that.”

His brow furrowed, and he shook his head firmly, his grip on her waist steady and grounding. “I’m not saying it because I have to,” he said, his tone gentle but resolute. “I’m saying it because it’s true, Evie. And I need you to hear it.”

Her eyes darted away, but Sebastian’s hand slid from her waist to her chin, tilting her face gently back toward his.

“I mean it,” he added, “Every word. You don’t have to believe me right away, but… I’ll keep saying it until you do.”

Evangeline blinked. What could she possibly say? Words seemed so woefully inadequate to express the storm of emotions swirling inside her—gratitude, disbelief, and a glimmer of something tender and raw. So instead, she nodded, a smile tugging on her lips.

It was a small, tentative thing at first, her lips curving upwards as the weight of Sebastian’s words settled into her. But as the warmth of his gaze held hers, the smile deepened, growing into something genuine, something unguarded. It wasn’t the usual nervous, deflective smile she offered when someone complimented her. This one felt different—earned, real.

Sebastian’s shoulders relaxed at the sight of it, his own lips twitching into a quiet, relieved grin. He didn’t press her to respond, didn’t demand she match his intensity or fill the silence with words. Instead, he simply squeezed her waist before his hand moved to the small of her back again.

When the song began to wind down, the lilting melody easing into a soft, final cadence. Sebastian slowed their movements, but he didn’t let go of her.

His hand remained in its place, his thumb brushing absentmindedly against the fabric there. The air between them felt charged, but not in a way that demanded anything more than what they were already sharing.

Evangeline finally lifted her head, her eyes meeting his. The look on his face nearly took her breath away. His expression was open, unguarded, the teasing confidence she knew so well tempered by a quiet vulnerability that made her heart twist.

“Thank you,” she said at last, her voice soft but sure.

“Always,” he replied, his tone carrying a promise that felt as steady and certain as the ground beneath her feet.

As the orchestra began a new piece, livelier and more upbeat, Sebastian gently loosened his hold, stepping back just enough to offer her his hand again. “Another round?” he asked, his grin turning playful.

Evangeline hesitated for only a heartbeat before slipping her hand into his, her own smile blooming once more. “Another round,” she agreed.

After they had their fill of dancing, Evangeline and Sebastian drifted through the crowd with ease, pausing here and there to chat with familiar faces. Cressida and Garreth were as lively as ever, with Garreth recounting a particularly disastrous potion experiment that had left part of the Potions classroom faintly purple. Cressida rolled her eyes but laughed along, her amusement betraying her affection for his antics. Poppy and Leander were nearby, their heads bent close together in conversation. Leander's typical expression had softened into something far gentler, and Poppy’s cheeks were flushed with happiness.

Evangeline smiled as she listened to the chatter around her, but her attention kept flickering back to Sebastian.

Typically, he would have been surrounded by admirers by now. It was just… him. Girls naturally flocked to him, their laughter light and melodic, their gazes lingering just a little too long as they found reasons to touch his arm or compliment his wit. Normally, he would have leaned into it, his playful charm disarming even the most confident among them. Evangeline had seen it countless times, the way Sebastian effortlessly commanded attention, the way girls seemed to gravitate toward him like moths to a flame.

But not tonight.

The girls still lingered, their familiar flirtations filling the air like soft whispers, but Sebastian didn’t rise to them. If someone lingered a bit too long or made a remark that would usually spark his playful repartee, he simply nodded politely, his responses brief and measured. And then, almost like clockwork, his gaze would flick to Evangeline—just a glance, but enough to send warmth blooming in her chest. It was as though he was silently reassuring her that she had his full attention, no matter how many people tried to steal it.

It wasn’t that he was rude—Sebastian could never be rude, not in a setting like this—but he wasn’t indulging them. He wasn’t flashing his easy grin or letting the conversation spiral into one of those drawn-out exchanges filled with teasing innuendos and lingering glances. Instead, his focus seemed unwavering, almost deliberately so, as if he wanted her to notice.

And she did.

If someone interrupted their conversations—Anne pulling him aside to tell him something about Ominis, or Garreth roping him into a spirited discussion about Quidditch—he always found his way back to her. Each time, his attention would settle on her with an intensity that made her stomach flutter. He’d quietly ask her about something only they shared—a memory from their fifth year or some half-forgotten inside joke that sent heat rushing to her cheeks. Or he’d tease her, softly, warmly, about something trivial—like how she’d nearly fallen off her broom last Quidditch scrimmage or how she’d insisted on trying every drink at the table just to rank them.

The shift wasn’t lost on the others, either. She caught Anne watching them from across the room, her expression unreadable but her lips twitching as though she were suppressing a knowing smile. Cressida, ever the romantic, shot her a pointed look when Sebastian leaned in a little closer than necessary to whisper a joke in Evangeline’s ear, the warmth of his breath making her heart skip.

Even the girls who approached him seemed to notice. Evangeline wasn’t sure if it was the subtle way he angled his body toward her or the way his gaze would drift back to her even mid-conversation, but their smiles seemed more tentative, their flirtations quieter, as if they could sense he wasn’t quite available tonight.

For the first time, Evangeline felt it too.

She wasn’t sure what to call it, this new energy between them. It was still wrapped in the comfortable banter and teasing she knew so well, but underneath it was something else—something unspoken, something that left her feeling both breathless and grounded all at once.

As they paused by a large glass window overlooking the grounds, she stole a glance at him. He was looking out into the night as well, his expression unreadable, but the soft lines of his face told her something was on his mind.

"I know I said this earlier but… you’ve been… different tonight," she ventured, her voice hesitant, though she knew there was no point in holding back now.

He turned to her, his face softening. "How so?"

"You’re... not in the mood to flirt with all your admirers?" she asked, the teasing lilt in her voice masking the curiosity she felt underneath.

Sebastian’s expression shifted, just for a moment, a flicker of surprise before it settled into something more serious. Then, without hesitation, he stepped a little closer to her, his hand sliding naturally to the small of her back as he guided her away from the window, leading her further into the throng of people.

"I’ve... had enough of pretending," he said, his voice quieter now, as if sharing a secret. "Pretending they matter."

Before she could respond, Sebastian smiled, though it was softer than his usual grin, more vulnerable. "Don’t get me wrong," he continued, his voice a bit more teasing now, "I’m still charming as ever. But it’s not the same when I’m not interested." He gave her a playful nudge with his hip, his hand still resting gently on her back, guiding her through the crowd. "Is that so terrible?"

Evangeline couldn’t help but smile at the familiar mischievous glint in his eyes, but it was hard to ignore the gravity of what he’d just said. He was clearly saying something more, something she had to read between the lines to fully understand.

"No, not terrible," she said, her voice light, but her words tinged with something else. "But why tonight? Why now?"

He shrugged, but the motion was almost too casual. His fingers tightened slightly at the small of her back, as if to keep her close, and Evangeline could feel the way his muscles tensed, as though he was trying to hold himself together.

"I don’t know," he murmured, his voice a little hoarse now. "I guess I'm tired of letting people expect things from me that I’m not willing to give anymore."

Evangeline’s thoughts raced. It was clear that there was something more he wasn’t saying, something beneath the surface of his teasing and nonchalance.

Her mind drifted back to the quiet conversations she’d had with Ominis over the past few weeks. He'd never been one to sugarcoat things. "You can’t pretend that nothing's there between you two, Evie," he’d said.

At the time, she’d dismissed it. They were friends, weren’t they? Just friends. Friends who had shared far too many moments of laughter, of quiet understanding, of deep conversation in the dead of night. Friends who had stood by each other through everything—so much so that the idea of anything more had felt almost impossible to imagine.

But now... now Evangeline wasn’t so sure anymore.

She glanced over at Sebastian, watching his profile as he guided her through the crowd, the weight of his hand resting on her back like a quiet anchor. All night he'd been complimenting her. Holding her. He wasn’t flirting with anyone else. He wasn’t entertaining the passing admirers who would normally swarm him after the first sign of attention. No, tonight, it was all about Evie.

But why now?

It had always been clear that they shared a deep bond, one that felt different from anything Evangeline had ever known, but there had been any indication that Sebastian saw her as anything more than a friend.

Or had there?

She thought back to the quiet moments they shared, the subtle glances, the teasing that had her heart lurching. She thought of all the times he had been there for her when no one else was—when she needed someone to listen, someone who understood her in ways no one else did.

It was a game they’d played for years, wasn’t it?

The thought lingered in her mind, both thrilling and terrifying at the same time. But then, why wouldn’t he just say it? Why wouldn’t he come out and tell her how he felt? Why leave it hanging in the air like this? She wanted to believe it, wanted to trust that the affection in his eyes wasn’t just a fleeting thing, but the uncertainty gnawed at her.

What if it wasn’t what she hoped it would be? What if it all fell apart? What if saying something out loud—admitting that maybe there was something more—ruined everything?

As the music swirled and the night grew late, Evangeline couldn’t help but feel like his words—his actions—were a puzzle she was on the verge of solving, but she couldn’t quite piece together.

The ball was winding down, the once-vibrant energy of the evening giving way to a soft, dreamy calm. The orchestra played a final, lingering melody that seemed to wrap around the remaining couples like a whispered goodbye. When the clock struck midnight, signaling the close of the night’s festivities, Evangeline found herself slipping away from the ballroom alongside Sebastian. The enchanted garden faded behind them, replaced by the cool stone corridors of the castle, their footsteps echoing faintly in the quiet.

Sebastian’s hand brushed against hers, and before she could process the warmth of his touch, his fingers laced gently through hers. The motion was unhurried, deliberate, and impossibly steady, as though he had done it a thousand times before and couldn’t imagine doing otherwise. His thumb brushed over her knuckles in slow, thoughtful strokes, the simple gesture so intimate it made her breath hitch.

She glanced at him, searching his face for some clue as to what this meant, but he didn’t look at her right away. His gaze was fixed ahead, his expression unreadable save for the faint, almost wistful smile playing at the corners of his lips. It wasn’t the mischievous smirk she was used to, nor the teasing grin that had so often disarmed her. This was something else—soft, earnest, and brimming with quiet certainty.

No words were exchanged between them as they made their way through the winding hallways. And when they reached the Undercroft, they moved through the space in a rhythm that felt natural, each of them slipping into their nighttime routines without the need for conversation. Evangeline set about getting ready for bed, taking off her dress and slipping into a simple nightgown, her mind still tangled in the web of thoughts that had been swirling all evening. She tried to focus on the small things—removing her jewelry, running a brush through her hair—but the weight of the night’s unspoken words pressed on her.

She glanced over at Sebastian as he made himself comfortable in bed. but he didn’t seem quite ready to turn in. He was sitting on the edge, his hands resting on his knees, his gaze fixed on the floor as though lost in his own thoughts.

It was the quietest the two of them had been all evening.

Evangeline padded towards the bed, her bare feet making soft sounds against the stone floor, and sat beside him. The flickering light of a nearby candle cast gentle shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp curve of his jaw, the faint crease in his brow, and the faraway look in his eyes. He hadn’t moved since she’d sat down, his focus still fixed on the floor

She wanted to speak, to break the silence that felt both fragile and thick with unspoken meaning, but no words came. Her heart was pounding too loudly in her ears, her thoughts racing in too many directions at once.

What is this? she wondered. What’s happening between us?

Her gaze lingered on him, taking in the way his fingers curled slightly against his knees, the way his shoulders seemed a little more hunched than usual, as though the weight of the night had settled there.

And as the moments stretched on, Evangeline found herself thinking that whatever this was—this fragile, magical, fleeting thing between them—she didn’t want to let it slip away without acknowledging it. Because tonight had been something different. Something special. And though she couldn’t put it into words, she felt it in the way he had held her on the dance floor, the way his hand had lingered on hers, the way he had looked at her—

If this is as close as I’ll ever get to having him… I’ll take it.

The thought stirred something inside her—a boldness she didn’t know she possessed. Before she could second-guess herself, she leaned forward, her hand brushing gently against his arm to steady herself. Her lips found his cheek in a tender, lingering kiss, warm and soft and so full of unspoken emotion that it left her trembling.

When she pulled back, her heart felt like it might burst. She didn’t know what she expected—awkwardness, confusion, maybe even a teasing remark—but when she looked at him, what she saw instead was something else entirely.

Sebastian had frozen, his breath caught somewhere between surprise and disbelief. A flush spread quickly across his cheeks, creeping up to the tips of his ears, and his brown eyes locked onto hers, wide and searching.

“Evie..."

She felt her own cheeks heat, but she didn’t look away, her hazel eyes steady on his. It was there, wasn’t it? Something between them that neither of them had dared to name. Ominis had been right about all along.

“I…” Sebastian started, but his voice faltered, his hand twitching slightly as if he wanted to reach for her but wasn’t sure if he should. His gaze flickered across her face—her eyes, her lips, the faint flush in her cheeks—and the vulnerability in his expression made her chest tighten.

“You don’t have to say anything,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the nervous fluttering in her stomach. “I just… I needed you to know. Tonight was—” She paused, searching for the right words. “—it was magical. Thank you.”

Sebastian stared at her, his breath still caught in his throat, as though her kiss had taken more than just his words—it had stolen the air from his lungs, too.

When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, almost hoarse. “Evie… I don’t think you realize…” He stopped, shaking his head slightly, a breathless laugh escaping him. “You’ve left me completely speechless.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down at her hands, which were fidgeting nervously in her lap. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make things awkward,” she said, her voice barely audible. “I just… I wanted you to know how much tonight meant to me. How much you mean to me.”

Sebastian exhaled sharply, his hand twitching again before finally moving to cover hers. His fingers slid over hers, warm and firm, stilling their restless movements. “You didn’t make things awkward,” he said firmly, his tone laced with something that sounded a lot like urgency. “Not even close. I... I'm just glad you had a good time. I did too. Thank you for coming with me."

Her lips quirked into a faint smile, and she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “I wouldn’t have wanted to go with anyone else.”

Sebastian’s expression softened even further, and for a moment, he looked as though he wanted to say more. But instead, he gave her hand another light squeeze, his gaze never leaving hers.

“Neither would I.”

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