#excuse me while i go simp in the corner

[starlostastronaut]

HAVE MERCY ON ME- 😭😍🫠🔥

[wendyyyyyyyy]

"Jealous of himself"

Pairing : I.N x fe! reader (established relationship)

Synopsis : You were fangirling over his magazine photoshoot shots only for him to ridiculously get jealous of himself because you were not paying attention to the real him.

Warning : Just pure fluff. No warning at all.

Enjoy!

........

Jeongin was sitting right next to you. Right there.

And yet, you weren’t paying him a single ounce of attention.

No, because in your hands was a magazine—a magazine that contained his latest photoshoot, and you were currently losing your mind over it.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, clutching the magazine dramatically. “Who allowed this?! This should be illegal!”

Jeongin glanced at you, completely confused. “Uh… what should be illegal?”

You ignored him, flipping to the next page. “This entire photoshoot! Are you serious?! How do you even exist looking like this?”

He blinked. “Babe, I’m… literally sitting right next to you?”

You held up the magazine in front of his face. “No, because look at this! Are you seeing what I’m seeing? The jawline? The smirk? The eyebrows? WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT?”

Jeongin scoffed, pulling the magazine down so he could see your face. “I gave me the right? Because, you know, that’s me?”

You ignored him again, flipping to another page. “Oh my god, you’re actually unreal. This belongs in an art museum. No—he belongs in an art museum.”

A beat of silence.

Then Jeongin squinted at you. “…Did you just refer to me as if I’m a different person?”

You waved him off, eyes still glued to the pictures. “Magazine Jeongin just hits different.”

Jeongin let out an incredulous laugh. “I—EXCUSE ME?”

You kept flipping pages, completely entranced. Meanwhile, Jeongin sat there, watching you in absolute disbelief, arms crossed, lips slightly parted like you had just personally offended him.

“I can’t believe this,” he muttered under his breath. “I’m sitting RIGHT HERE, but somehow I’m getting ignored in favor of… me?”

You hummed, barely registering his words. “Ugh, I just love him so much.”

Jeongin gasped. “OH, SO YOU LOVE HIM?”

You finally looked up, blinking at him. “Uh… yeah?”

His jaw dropped. “THE HIM IN THE MAGAZINE?!”

You had to press your lips together to keep from laughing. “I mean… look at him. He’s—”

“Nope.” Jeongin stood up dramatically, shaking his head. “I refuse. I REFUSE to be jealous of MYSELF.”

You finally lost it, bursting into laughter so hard you almost dropped the magazine. “Jeongin, babe, are you seriously mad right now?”

“Yes!” he huffed, crossing his arms. “Because my own girlfriend is simping for a printed version of me while ignoring the real me sitting right next to her! This is actual insanity.”

You wiped away tears from laughing so hard. “Oh, baby, are you pouting right now?”

“I am not pouting.” He was definitely pouting. His cheeks were puffed out slightly, lips pursed, eyes narrowed at you like you had personally betrayed him.

“Aw, my baby’s jealous,” you teased, setting the magazine down and reaching for him.

Jeongin took a step back, dodging your hands. “No. Go cuddle your precious magazine Jeongin.”

You gasped dramatically. “You don’t want my love anymore?”

“I do, but apparently I have competition,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “And the worst part? The competition is ME.”

That sent you into another fit of laughter. “Do you hear how ridiculous you sound?”

He huffed, still acting offended, but you could see the corners of his lips twitching. He was trying so hard not to laugh, but his own jealousy was just too funny to stay mad.

Deciding to push his buttons further, you sighed dreamily. “Honestly… I think I should frame this.” You picked up the magazine again, flipping to your favorite picture of him. “Maybe put it on my nightstand so I can look at him every night before I sleep.”

“Oh, that’s it,” Jeongin groaned, snatching the magazine right out of your hands.

“HEY—”

“You’ve lost magazine privileges,” he announced, holding it above his head where you couldn’t reach.

You whined, trying to grab it back. “Give it back!”

“Nope. You can have me instead.”

You paused, blinking at him. “Wait… so you want me to simp over you in real life?”

He smirked, tucking the magazine under his arm. “Obviously. If you’re gonna drool over me, at least let me see it in person.”

You rolled your eyes, finally giving in and wrapping your arms around his waist. “You’re so dumb.”

“And yet, you love me,” he sang, letting the magazine drop onto the couch so he could pull you closer.

“Unfortunately.”

He gasped. “Unfortunately? Wow. Maybe I should let magazine Jeongin have you then—”

You shut him up with a kiss, effectively wiping the smirk off his face. When you pulled away, he was looking at you, slightly dazed, but with the biggest grin.

“Okay, fine. Real-life Jeongin wins.” you teased, poking his cheek. “Now, go get my magazine.”

“Absolutely not.”

And just like that, your ridiculous boyfriend won the dumbest battle of jealousy in history.

......

Happy belated birthday to our maknae on top 🎂

[moonlight-records]

BTS shopping| FC43 (HAC #8)

pairing: franco colapinto x reader

summary: a glimpse into what shopping is like with you and franco

warning: fluff!

fc: none!

a/n: f1 seating changed. day 8 of moonlight records holiday advent calendar! another sm au!

day 1 | day 2 | day 3 | day 4 | day 5 | day 6 | day 7 | current day | day 9

francolapinto tagged ynvibes in a post

liked by ynvibes, arthur_leclerc, ynbestie, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and 1.2m others

francolapinto prettiest view of 2024 😊

view all 1.1m comments

ynvibes oh stoooop it babe (keep going)

↳ francolapinto thanksfully, i won't stop ↳ ynvibes good 😊 ↳ ynbestie excuse meeeee ↳ francolapinto and my favorite chaos buddy appears! ↳ ynbestie damn RIGHT

user1 NEW FRANCO SIMP POST JUST DROPPED!!

user2 me too franco, me too ↳ ynvibes liked this comment

landonorris and no invite?

↳ francolapinto you're alive!!! ↳ ynvibes we tried but you were hungover, but we can bring something back for you!! ↳ landonorris my savior!!! ↳ ynbestie can you bring y/n home so we can go shopping? please?? i miss my wife 😫 ↳ francolapinto how about i bring y/n home and i take both you out to shopping? ↳ ynbestie I KNEW YOU WERE MY FAVORITE FOR SOME REASON!!! 😍

user3 WE NEED A SHOPPING HAUL STAT

↳ ynvibes ask and you shall receive! ↳ user3 LETS GOOOOOO!!!!

user4 I NEED THAT RED BAG!!!!

user5 this haul bout to hit, i just know it!!!

ynvibes maybe i can help get your secret santa gift

↳ francolapinto PLEASE

ynvibes tagged francolapinto in a post

liked by ynbestie, francolapinto, charles_leclerc, landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 835k others

ynvibes got the secret santa gift and then went back for movies & legos

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user6 oh to shop and then watch movies and build legos after

maxverstappen1 what lego set is he building?

↳ ynvibes no clue but it was on sale. so were the flower sets since I know P wants to build legos!! ↳ maxverstappen1 i knew there was a reason you're my favorite wag ↳ user9 HELLO? ↳ ynvibes awww max!!! ↳ maxverstappen1 don't get use to it

user7 I love Up!!!!

user8 god bless y/n for expanding franco's fashion design. doing the lords work 😫

landonorris whatcha got there? 👀

↳ francolapinto a surprise ↳ landonorris boooooo

user9 it's either for franco or secret santa and either way someone's winning

user10 im excited for them shopping for each other

francolapinto tagged ynvibes and ynbestie in a post

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francolapinto when we together, it's only one brain cell between all of us

view all 1.5m comments

user11 who's in the first one???

↳ user9 i think that's ynbestie

user12 these are the vibes we need this holiday season

ynvibes REUNITED AT LAST!!!

↳ ynbestie I KNOW THATS RIGHT!!!

user13 oh to witness them shopping

alex_albon the paddock's favorite three musketeers!!

↳ francolapinto thank you amigo!! ↳ ynbestie damn straight!!!

user14 OMG I WALKED BY FRANCO IN THE PILLOWS AND THOUGHT IT WAS SOME RANDOM GUY 😭

↳ user15 OMG!!! ↳ user14 I DIDN'T EVEN REALIZE I WAS JUDGING SO HARD

ynvibes tagged ynbestie in a post

liked by francolapinto, ynbestie, landonorris, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and 594k others

ynvibes this and yapping ❤️ (thank you franco for giving us your card while you took a phone call you forgot about)

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user16 THIS HAUL BOUT TO SLAP!!!

user17 this is what girlhood is all about

ynbestie OH THANK YOU DEAR FRANCO!! I SHALL BAKE ALL THE BOOZY BROWNIES YOUR HEART DESIRES!!! 🩵 ↳ francolapinto I WIN!! ↳ landonorris I WANT BOOZY BROWNIES???!!!! SHARE PLEASE!!!???? ↳ francolapinto of course i will! ↳ landonorris LETS GOOOOOO ↳ ynvibes smh not you trying to court with the boozy brownies, i am right here ↳ francolapinto my love, i have two hands. one for you and one for lando. like you and your bestie and i ↳ ynvibes this is true. i call one corner piece and i'll accept this arrangement ↳ francolapinto deal!

user18 soooooo book haul when???

↳ ynvibes soon 🤭 ↳ user18 YESSSSS

user19 need a man like this

user20 where's the coffee?!

↳ ynvibes we finished them before we took photos!!! ↳ user20 valid!

francolapinto posted

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francolapinto post shopping lunch and celebration 🥳

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user21 WHAT CELEBRATION???

user22 k-pot after shopping? oh y'all got this under lock and key

landonorris what news???

↳ francolapinto soon! ↳ landonorris sir????

user23 WE THE PEOPLE ARE NOSY FOR ANSWERS!!!

ynbestie i know you're doing to do great things 🩵

↳ francolapinto thank you amigo 🩵

user24 YNBESTIE CONGRATULATING FRANCO??? FRANCO IN F1 SEAT???

alex_albon hell yeah!!! congrats franco!!

user25 OMG OMG OMG IS FRANCO TO WILLIAMS???

ynvibes so proud of you babe 🩵

↳ francolapinto thank you mi amor ❤️

ynvibes posted

liked by ynbestie, francolapinto, arthur_leclerc, landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 937k others

ynvibes family presents ✅

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user26 you love playing with fire, don't you? 😂

user27 ugh target run sounds so nice right noe

charles_leclerc i thought you said you needed one thing? ↳ ynvibes target tells YOU what YOU need. ↳ charles_leclerc ...y/n wtf???

user28 any good sales going on??? love target but it's so far

↳ ynvibes a few! if you need household items and clothes def check them! ↳ user28 i will!!

user29 that fuzzy jackets look SOOOO comfy

logansargeant we love a good target run

↳ ynvibes YOU GET IT!!! ↳ logansargeant i do i do ↳ francolapinto petition for you and logan's partner to go to target while logan and i stay back and play video games ↳ logansargeant where do i sign this petition?? ↳ ynvibes petition granted

user30 time to run to target!!

francolapinto posted

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francolapinto christmas shopping officially done (ft. y/n refusing to let me to carry her bags)

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user31 y/n is a strong independent woman!!

↳ user32 independent yn 🤝 simp franco ↳ user31 god you're so right ↳ user32 wonder if franco carried the bags in ↳ ynvibes he did 😒

user33 can't wait for the wrapping video!!!

ynbestie so am i coming over to help wrap presents???

↳ ynvibes fuck YEAH ↳ francolapinto am i getting wine? ↳ ynbestie yes please!!!

user34 please tell me you guys are doing advent calendars for each other!!!!

↳ user35 PLEASE ↳ user34 begging for it

ynvibes posted

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ynvibes welcome williams newest driver & qudrants newest member 🩵

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quadrant welcome to the team, franco!!!

↳ francolapinto thank you for having me!!

user36 OMG OMG OMG!!!

user37 BEST. DAY. EVER!!!!

landonorris glad to have you apart of the team, amigo

↳ francolapinto thank you for having me!! ↳ ynvibes just make sure i get to see him ↳ max_fewtrell i will ↳ ynvibes thank yoooou

user38 YAY MORE FRANCO CONTENT!!!! AND Y/N WAG ERA!!!

user39 im crying this is great

user40 what movie y'all seeing?

↳ ynvibes wicked! ↳ user40 are you guys holding space??? ↳ ynvibes ofc!!!

[amathslutsguidetofandom]

No Excuses

PAIRINGS: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Wife!Sri Lankan!Reader

WARNINGS: HEAVY FLUFF, Simons a fucking simp for the missus, good food :)

SOME INFO: 'Avurudda' means 'New Year', and Kottu and Appa are some famous Sri Lankan traditional food

WORD COUNT: 1,484

ENJOY!

"Yes, Amma. Yes, I cleaned the house like you told me to," you confess softly to your Sri Lankan mother, a tender smile gracing your lips as you recall the gentle encouragement she always provided.

Avurudda season has arrived, a time when the essence of your Sri Lankan heritage fills the air with warmth and nostalgia. In homage to your roots, you meticulously prepared your home, ensuring every corner gleamed with the promise of new beginnings. 

And with a sense of reverence, you sought out a traditional Sri Lankan lamp online, a beacon of light to guide you through the festivities of the new year

When you married Simon, Your parents hesitated, their reservations echoing the unspoken fears of marrying outside your culture lingered in your heart

Yet, can they really blame you?

You fell in love with the Lieutenant while you were a techie for one of the TF-141 missions. The mission was primarily automotive, so the team, especially Simon, heavily relied on you. You didn’t think that you had it in you to thaw the ice around the Lt’s heart, but to him, you were his solace, his light.

In the steady rhythm of time, Simon's heart quietly yielded to the gravity of your presence, each day etching deeper into the stone of his resolve, sculpting a silent monument to the unyielding strength of his love for you.

After a few tense debriefs, he finally had the courage.

From the tension of your first encounters to secret touches, which morphed into silent kisses behind closed doors. Your both grew needing the other, the love you have for him and him, you, just became heavier in the depths of your hearts.

Soon, you moved into his flat. And a year later, you’re sleeping next to the love of your life with a gold band on your finger and his last name after your first.

Your parents soon backed off when they realized how much Simon cared for you and you for him.

Your mother's voice breaks you out of your reverie.

"Have you seen the recipes I’ve sent you, the Kottu and the Appa ones?" Your Amma questions, and you tilt your head back and close your eyes. "Yes, Amma, I did. Haven’t I told you that already?"

-----

You hear the door open as you sauté some vegetables the way your mother said to, in her recipe.

"Love? Are you here?" you hear the gruff voice of your husband through the entrance hall of your home.

You holler that you’re in the kitchen.

With a gentle embrace, Simon enfolds you in his arms, his touch igniting a spark of warmth that spreads through your body like wildfire. You lean into his embrace, relishing the comfort of his touch as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your skin. "Hi, handsome," you whisper softly, your voice a tender caress that lingers in the air between you.

Simon grunts out a laugh and hugs you tighter, "missed you, love."

You both stand in silence, letting Simon take you in.

"Have you brought the things I asked you to?" you whisper gently, switching off the heat of the stove. Simon nods, "it was tricky to find them, but I managed to."

 Simon finally releases you and goes to grab the paper bags from the table near the door and places them on the kitchen counter.

You smile at him and give a little squeeze to his bicep and dig through the bag. "Great, everything is here, thanks babe," you lay out everything and start to cook your Kottu. You start chopping up the fresh thin, soft rotti until it's the right size.

You feel Simon peek over your shoulder and then go back to the pot and get a whiff of the food you made already. "Jesus, love. It smells incredible," he leans against the kitchen counter watching you chop the last of the rotti and throw the shredded fine bread into your pot.

You inhale deeply, "well, it's Avurudda. Sri Lankan new year." You say sheepishly, as you throw a glance at your husband over your shoulder.

Simon’s eyes go wide and he nods slowly, "I see." He rubs a hand over his chin and takes in the information you just gave him. He pieces everything together and scolds himself for not remembering, "love, I'm sorry I didn’t know."

You chuckle and shake your head, "honey, it’s fine, really." Simon shakes his head, "I should remember my wife’s cultural holidays. No excuses, love." You pout at Simon beating himself up, "hey, I know what can make you feel better."

He looks up at you confused and raises a brow. "I bought a Sinhala lamp, could you help me set it up?" you smile at him as he nods eagerly before you finish your sentence. You give him the instructions and show him the package that came in this afternoon. "Alright, I’ll get on with it," he whispers, rubbing a hand on your lower back and kissing your temple.

You smile and finish your work in the kitchen.

-----

Simon sets the table and you plate the food. 

Then you sit down to enjoy the meal you've prepared together, the flickering light of the candles casts a warm glow over the table, bathing you both in its gentle embrace. 

Now he sits in front of you and looks at the crispy Appas and delicious looking Kottu sitting between the both of you.

"Alright, so. This is Kottu, it's basically pieces of thick paratha or rotti, cooked with veggies and shredded chicken. It’s my ultimate favorite dish," you point at the plate of food, and talk animatedly.

You don’t see the subtle smile on your husband's face as he sees you talk passionately, and he opens a file in his mind and files in the information that Kottu is your favorite meal. You then point at the crispy upside-down domes.

“These are Appas, or Hoppers, they are amazing with chicken curry," you point at the curry you made a little while ago, "alright that’s it, dig in! And, Suba aluth avurudak weva, mage rattaran.” Simon has learned a little Sinhala for you since you first got married, and he translates your words in his mind.

Happy new year, my darling.

-----

As you and Simon delve into conversation about your respective days, you both begin to enjoy your meals. With each bite, you savor the taste of home, the flavors of your heritage filling your senses with a sense of belonging.

You take occasional sips from a glass of wine, Simon leisurely drinks from a bottle of beer.

“It’s absolutely delicious, love,” he says, reaching for your hand across the table. He rubs his thumb on the delicate skin of your hand. You smile and say your thanks.

You meet his gaze, your eyes locking in a silent exchange that speaks volumes without a single word. And in that moment, as you sit together in the soft glow of the candlelight, you know that you are exactly where you're meant to be, with the man who holds your heart in his hands.

Your leg brushes against his ankle, the fabric of your sock gliding over his skin. Simon grins and gently clasps your limb, placing it tenderly on his lap. Your smile broadens as he begins to caress it, sending waves of comfort through you.

The atmosphere is filled to the brim with your love for each other, the only source of light is from the candles lit on the table and the traditional lamp next to your dining table.

Simon reflects on his fortune, marveling at the serendipity of finding a woman as remarkable as you. He finds solace in the thought of a love so deeply reciprocated, where every beat of his heart echoes with the resonance of your affection, intertwining your souls in a bittersweet symphony of devotion.

-----

You stir from slumber to the not-so-gentle melody of your phone's alarm.

Blinking away the remnants of sleep, you reach out to silence it, yearning for the familiar presence of your Simon beside you. 

Yet, as you turn, you find only the empty space where he once lay, his absence palpable in the morning light.

With a soft exhale, you sit up, the soft rays of dawn casting a warm glow around you. It's then that your gaze drifts to his bedside table, where a bouquet of delicate pink and white tulips awaits, their petals kissed by the soft light of dawn. 

Nestled among the blooms, a note written in his hand catches your eye.

It’s in his handwriting, the ink scratchy and blotchy. His sinhala words marking their spot on the hard paper.

A rush of emotion floods your senses as you read his words, each stroke of the pen a testament to his adoration. 

Happy New Year, my love.

🎀🎀🎀

OMG!

My first Simon Riley fic!!

And

My first Sri-Lankan!Reader fic!!!

One of the main reasons I wanted to start writing is because there is very minimal representation of brown girlies in the fanfic world. Especially, there is lack of rep for South Asian women. And even though I do associate myself with being a WOC, there is still a difference in between cultures.

I srsly keep in touch with my Sri Lankan heritage, and value that part of me.

It's why I try to make my Fics as inclusive as possible, but sometimes ya girl's got to represent her girlies back home.

(dw desi babes, I got a Diwali fic planned for y'all)

Sorry for the ramble and I'm sorry if this is not what most of you lovelies wanted😅😅.

But I've planned this for a while.

Suba Aluth Avurudak Weva, my loves!

(Also, please lemme know what you lovelies think about the fic!!)

Till' then,

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

[in1-nutshell]

IM SORRY I ONLY GET IDEAS WHEN REQUESTS ARE CLOSED, PLEASE TAKE YOUR TIME AND ADD THIS TO THE BOTTOM

Fearless buddy being sent to the tfp universe at first made me want the tfp team prime to see mtmte Megs interact with buddy and have a crisis over the fact that Megs became a dad, to a human no less.

and then I realized, no. no I dont want team prime to just react to mtmte megs, I want these fuckers to get yeeted into the portal one by one and suffer through the general chaos of the lost light.

Arcee - What was that?

Swerve - oh thats just Skids, you can tell cause when Buddys' in the vents it sounds more like a pitter patter.

Arcee - WHY ARE THEY IN THE VENTS?!

Drifts gets double to Ratchets to simp for

Optimus curls into a ball and cries when he sees Megatron with an autobot badge and being a decent person

Tailgate fanboys and asked for an autograph, yes he knows that its not their Optimus Prime but he's cool none the less

Miko quickly finds Buddy and Whirl and Rodimus quickly grabs Bumblebee and Smokescreen. Ultra Magnus has his back turned for for ten minutes and suddenly the Lost light has been turned into a race track with Swerve handling the betting's and a small world has declared war on the lost light, stating the instigators was a human and two mechs, one of which kinda sounds like the Apex armor.

Brainstorm finds Raf and gets into a custody battle for him with Ratchet.

Optimus and Megatron both have a conversation and get some kinda closure from it.

Ultra Magnus nearly cries over Jack being responsible and polite. he loves buddy but why did they get the well mannered human

plus the rest of the autobots being fucking flabbergasted at how Megatron is with his tiny organic child

In short: C H A O S !

There simply would have been way too much to cover with just this request alone. So, I've tried to condense everything down to 4 key highlights of events that defiantly happened during the trip. This would also be assuming that this is also the same universe as Old Predacon Buddy.

Hope you enjoy!

Fearless Buddy gets a visit from TFP Bots

SFW, Platonic, Human reader

TFP/MTMTE

4 Conversations and confrontations that have defiantly happened during the visit

Meeting the Co- captains

The bots had just arrived at the Lost Light via portal and met Buddy once again.

Buddy wanted to bring them to the med bay just to make sure everything was okay with their systems.

Optimus was the one to have Buddy on his servo as they pointed the way to get to the med bay.

How did they not come across any other crewmember?

That is beyond them.

But just before the team made it to the med bay a streak of black came in front of the bots.

“Who are you and what are you doing on board?”--Ravage

Buddy waving from Prime’s servo.

“Hi Ravage!”--Buddy

Ravage takes notice of Buddy and pins his audials back.

“Let them go now!”--Ravage

Ravage tries swiping at the Prime, but Arcee fires a warning shot.

“Don’t even think about it.”--Arcee

“Wait can’t we all calm down—"--Buddy

Multiple heavy pede steps are heard.

“And now he’s coming…”--Buddy

“Who’s—”--Jack

Megatron and Rodimus come running from the corner and stop behind Ravage.

Megatron has his fusion cannon ready and Rodimus is powering up.

Everyone is tense.

“All right Fake Optimus, put Buddy down and no one gets hurt too badly.”--Rodimus

“Fake Prime? This is Optimus Prime.”--Smokescreen

“Yeah, and Megatron isn’t Buddy’s dad. That’s not Optimus.”--Rodimus

“Excuse did you say that bucket head there was Buddy’s dad?!”--Miko

Buddy nods and pats Prime’s digits.

“Just pass me to Rodimus while I explain everything.”--Buddy

Optimus hesitates a minute before handing Buddy to Rodimus.

Buddy Jumps from Rodimus’s servo start onto Megatron’s arm, which freaks everyone out for a minute as the ex war lord does catch them.

“Buddy we’ve talked about this.”--Megatron

Buddy stick’s out their tongue.

“Can someone please explain what in Primus’s name is going on?!”--Magnus

“In a bit Magnus.”--Buddy

“Wait, wait wait, this is Magnus?”--Rodimus

Rodimus looks at him amused.

“Just wait til Minimus finds out.”--Rodimus

“Who’s Minimus?”--Wheeljack

“In a minute, now to the med bay. Ratchet should take a look at them before anything else.”--Buddy

“Ratchet?”—Team Prime

“Me?”--Ratchet

Rodimus and Buddy turn to each other with a mischievous smile.

Megatron just sighs tiredly.

This was going to be a long day… or week even…

2. Ratchet confrontation and some honorable mentions

Both Ratchet’s nearly have a stroke when they see each other.

The team gets checked out by every medic available.

Buddy manages to catch everyone up overall on the ‘alternative universe’ fiasco. Everyone manages to understand for the most part.

Megatron watches Buddy like a hawk while also sending a message to Minimus on the situation.

He could practically hear the stroke happening from here.

MTMTE Ratchet taking a double look at everyone’s energon levels.

“How are any of you even functioning?! Your energon levels are so low you shouldn’t even be standing up right?!”—MTMTE Ratchet

TFP Ratchet huffs.

“Unlike this universe, energon is not a common thing to run by. Naturally the levels are going to be low.”—TFP Ratchet

“I’m not saying that it is, but what I am is astounded on how any of you are still even talking. And you especially.”

Optimus looks curious.

“What are you referring to?”--Optimus

MTMTE Ratchet takes a deep vent and lets it out.

“Your Ratchet has the lowest energon levels out of your entire team combined! Miracle that he is even with us.”--ratchet

Bee buzzes angrily.

All MTMTE bots look at him worriedly.

First Aid comes over to him.

“What happened to your voice?”—First Aid

MTMTE Ratchet, Ambulon and Velocity join in crowding Bee.

“His voice box was damaged in the war on Cybertron. Our Megatron damaged it.”—Raf

Bumblebee looks down a bit.

The medics are all looking at one another.

“We can see what we can do here, if you’d like Bumblebee.”—MTMTE Ratchet

Bee buzzes happily as Raf hugs his digit.

Drift enters the med bay.

“Hey Ratchet, I heard you yelling in here, is everything—”--Drift

Drift looks at the scene in front of him stopping dead in his tracks.

His optics land on TFP Ratchet.

Buddy looks at him mouthing ‘No!’

“Who’s this guy?”--Smokescreen

“I finally made it to the Afterspark.”--Drift

“What?”—TFP Ratchet

“That’s just Drift just ignore him.”—MTMTE Ratchet

“Ratchet I don’t think that’s going to be possible.”--Buddy

“I HAVE TWO RATCHET’S NOW!”--Drift

Drift pulls them both into a hug.

TFP Ratchet is struggling to get out of his grip while MTMTE Ratchet just goes along with it.

“Buddy, who’s that?”--Wheeljack

“And why is he hugging Ratchet?”--Bulkhead

“That’s Drift, he’s Ratchet’s Conjunx.”--Buddy

All TFP Bots nearly have whiplash at how fast they move their helms.

“HIS CONJUNX?!”—Team Prime

“MY WHAT?!”—TFP Ratchet

“Not yours.”—MTMTE Ratchet

“Aww Ratty! You do care.”--Drift

“RATTY?!”—Team Prime

Several members of Team Prime laughing on the med slab so hard the medics are on standby.

3. Kids custody

Tfp team goes to the bar.

Kids stay with Buddy in the human safe portion of the bar to get some food.

Everyone is staring at them.

But to be fair they did have way different frame types than everyone else in this dimension.

Buddy yells at them for being rude.

That they help them in their time of need.

Suddenly everyone is in a much better mood.

Swerve serving Team Prime some engex.

“Any friend of Buddy is a friend of ours. Drink up fellow bots!”--Swerve

“Thank you Swerve.”--Optimus

Prime feels something poking his side

He looks at a white minibot poking his side holding a data pad.

“Hi! I know your not this universes Optimus, but can I still have your autography!”--Tailgate

Prime looks a bit surprised but he gives in.

“Thank you!”--Tailgate

“And what may be your name?”--Optimus

“I’m Tailgate!”--Tailgate

Arcee spits out her engex, Bulkhead calms her down.

“Is she okay? I didn’t upset her right?”--Tailgate

Arcee walks up to Tailgate, who is roughly around her size.

Cyclonus walks up behind Tailgate as if daring her to do something dumb.

She eventually holds her servo out.

“I’m Arcee.”--Arcee

Tailgate hugs Arcee instead.

“Thank you and your team for taking care of Buddy while they were away!”--Tailgate

Arcee is holding back tears as she gives into the hug.

“SHE’S ARCEE!”--Rodimus

Many bots look over with curiosity and some with fear.

Bulkhead looked over at the human table to find it empty.

“Hey where are the kids?”--Bulkhead

“Oh! Whirl took them around the bar when you weren’t looking.”--Swerve

“Whirl? Who’s Whirl?”--Magnus

Swerve points to the helicopter bot with his cockpit open.

“That one who’s trying to fight with Getaway.”--Swerve

Bulkhead, Wheeljack, and Ultra Magnus navigate their way to Whirl.

He turns to show Buddy and Miko laughing in the pit.

“So, you’re this little monsters guardians?”--Whirl

“Yes—”--Bulkhead

“Well, TOO BAD!”--Whirl

Whirl places a protective claw over both of the giggling humans.

“SHE’S MY OTHER AMICA NOW!”--Whirl

“They are not your Amica—”--Magnus

“Actually I’m his.”--Buddy

“And that’s something we’re going to talk about later. Miko—”--Wheeljack

“ITS WHIRL JR. NOW!”--Miko

“Miko no!”--Bulkhead

“MIKO YES!”--Miko

Meanwhile with Arcee…

Arcee stares at MTMTE Magnus, Cyclonus, Tailgate and Pipes.

Pipes and Tailgate are asking him all sorts of questions.

“Ultra Magnus. Cyclonus.”--Arcee

“Arcee.”—Magnus and Cyclonus

All three of them look over at the other three who are happily laughing at a joke.

All three mentally promise to destroy anyone who harms Jack.

Meanwhile with Ratchet…

Brainstorm holding Raf high above his helm.

“I HAVE FOUND MY CHILD!”--Brainstorm

“HE IS NOT YOUR CHILD!”--Perceptor

“Fine! Percy and Nautica we need to schedule visiting time—”--Brainstorm

MTMTE Ratchet taking Raf out of his servo.

“Leave the poor boy alone.”—MTMTE Ratchet

Drift looks over at MTMTE Ratchet and Raf and smiles teasingly.

“AAAAWWWW Ratty!”--Drift

Ratchet suddenly getting the hint.

“No…”—MTMTE Ratchet

“Yes…”--Drift

Drift no.”—MTMTE Ratchet

“Drift yes?”--Drift

“…”--MTMTE Ratchet

Ratchet hands Raf back to his counterpart.

“I think its best to keep him in check.”—MTMTE Ratchet

“Will do—HEY!”—TFP Ratchet

Brainstorm once again nabbing Raf from him.

“Mine child! Now Rafael. Would you like to see my lab? It has all sorts of inventions in it.”--Brainstorm

“BRAINSTORM!”--Chromdome

Brainstorm starts heading to the exit faster before Skids tackles him down letting Raf to get thrown up in the air.

He gets caught by Swerve, who just puts him down next to him.

“…Do you like Bill Nye?”--Swerve

Meanwhile with Rodimus…

Has Smokescreen and Bumblebee both thrown over his shoulder looking at Megatron and Magnus.

“Please?”--Rodimus

“No.”--Magnus

“Too bad.”--Rodimus

Confused car noises intensify.

Later on, Optimus and Megatron are found in one of the booth having some whispered conversation.

No one knows what they talked about, but both came back from it looking tired yet somewhat happy.

4. Promise to meet each other one day in the future

A couple days pass, the portal comes back.

Tfp team says their goodbyes.

Buddy wishes them good luck and to say hi to their alternative.

Portal closes.

“Wait you said, ‘other Buddy’, there was another Buddy?”--Megatron

“Oh yeah, but they’re an old Predacon.”--Buddy

“AN OLD WHAT?!”--Whirl

Meanwhile back in TFP…

The team comes out of the portal groaning at the semi harsh landing.

June and Agent Fowler came running in.

June nearly tackles the kids asking so many questions their heads are spinning.

The team explains what happened.

“Would have guessed that after Buddy’s explanation.”—Agent Fowler

“Heh, hey where is Buddy anyways?”--Bulkhead

“Bet their taking a nap.”--Miko

“Nope. After four hours of you guys ‘disappearing to the other dimension’ they’ve been trying to keep everything under control. They’ve been increasing patrols and energon digs.”—Agent Fowler

“They should be coming in soon.”--June

Heavy wing flaps are heard from the main entrance.

“June! I think another rocks stuck in my—”--Buddy

Buddy stops to take a good look at the team before going in for a group hug, spreading their wings as much as possible.

“Thank the Primes your all safe.”--Buddy

“Woah! Buddy, your…umm…”--Smokescreen

Buddy looking down at their dented and dusty self.

“Someone had to pick up on the patrols. The Decepticon’s couldn’t know that you were gone.”--Buddy

Optimus places his servo on Buddy’s shoulder.

“Rest old friend. We can take it from here.”--Optimus

Buddy just yawns and moves to their spot near the human area and slumps down hard and falls asleep.

The kids go over to Buddy to see if they are still awake.

They were out.

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

Coming Home | Sebastian Sallow x OC #22

After the emotional chaos of the last few chapters, I thought these two could use a softer moment. Let’s be honest, we all know evie will forgive seb because she's a hopeless simp—but don’t worry, he's still got some work left to do.

ALSO this is the last 100% complete chapter in my back log, so updates may be a lil slower moving forward while I revise/edit remaining chapters (sorryy!)💕

Summary: Evangeline visits Feldcroft after an uneasy end to term, reconnecting with Sebastian as he tries to rebuild her trust. Sebastian wrestles with his unspoken love for her while striving to prove he’s worthy of her faith.

Words: TBD I’m posting this from my phone so idk

Tags: Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Unspoken Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Reconciliation, Emotional Vulnerability, Domestic Fluff, Stargazing, Hand-Holding, Soft Confessions, Emotional Tension

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

Read on AO3

The summer sun hung low in the sky, painting Feldcroft in golden hues as Sebastian paced the small square in the center of town. The Floo station stood a few feet away, its modest hearth crackling faintly as villagers went about their day, occasionally sparing him a curious glance. He was sure he looked ridiculous—too restless to stand still, his hands alternating between raking through his hair and stuffing themselves into his pockets. But he didn’t care.

It had been nearly two months since he’d seen her.

Their last real conversation had been at the Black Lake in early June, a raw, jagged thing where every word had felt like walking a tightrope over an abyss. They had barely spoken in the weeks that followed, the looming pressure of exams offering an easy excuse to avoid talking about anything of substance. And when summer vacation finally began, she’d been gone before he could even process it—off to stay with their friends, hopping from one house to the next in an attempt to avoid the Fallowmere orphanage.

Since then, Sebastian had spent the summer working tirelessly at the apothecary in Upper Hogsfield, the steady rhythm of brewing potions and stocking shelves providing a temporary reprieve from his restless mind. He tried to convince himself that the tentative bridge he and Evangeline built by the lake hadn’t collapsed under the weight of his guilt, and yet the memory of her tears haunted him. Far too many sleepless nights were spent staring at his bedroom ceiling, wondering if she regretted giving him even a sliver of her trust back.

But now she was here. Or she would be.

Sebastian’s gaze flicked to the Floo again, his heart thrumming with a mixture of nerves and anticipation. He could hardly believe he'd invited her; it wasn’t like they’d discussed it. But Sebastian had been reading over Ominis's shoulder during his last visit, and when she’d mentioned, almost offhandedly in her letter, that she hadn’t settled on where to go next, the words had tumbled out of Sebastian's mouth before he could stop them. Feldcroft. Tell her to come to Feldcroft.

And to his surprise—his absolute relief—she’d agreed.

He paused his pacing, glancing up as a flicker of green flames lit the hearth. A knot of anxiety twisted in his stomach, his hands clenching at his sides as he waited. When the fire roared to life and a figure stepped out, small trunk in hand, his breath caught.

She was here.

“Evie,” he said, his voice soft but steady, the smallest of smiles tugging at the corner of his mouth.

She glanced up, her hazel eyes locking with his, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause. There was a flicker of something unreadable in her expression—hesitation, maybe—but then her lips curved into a tentative smile.

“Hello, Sebastian.”

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to send a flood of relief coursing through him. He stepped forward, reaching for her trunk. “Let me—”

“I’ve got it,” she said quickly, gripping the handle tighter. Her voice was light, but he caught the faint edge of discomfort in it. She wasn’t ready for too much, not yet.

He nodded, taking a small step back to give her space. “Right. Well, welcome to Feldcroft. Again.” He winced at his own awkwardness, raking a hand through his hair. “I mean, you know the place already, but—”

She let out a quiet laugh, cutting off his rambling. “Thanks, Sebastian,” she said, her voice softer now, though the wariness hadn’t entirely left her eyes.

He smiled sheepishly, dropping his hand from his hair as a moment of silence stretched between them. Sebastian cleared his throat and gestured toward the path leading out of the square. “Right. Well, let’s get you settled.”

Evangeline adjusted her grip on the trunk and fell into step beside him. The village bustled around them in its unassuming way—shopkeepers chatting, children darting between carts, the occasional sheep wandering too close to the cobblestones before being herded back to the fields.

He stole a glance at her as they walked, her gaze drifting over the thatched roofs and blooming wildflowers that lined the path. Her expression was calm, though there was a flicker of something deeper in her eyes—curiosity, maybe, or apprehension. He wasn’t sure.

“Still looks the same,” she said finally, her voice breaking the silence. “But it feels... different without the snow.”

Sebastian smiled faintly. “Yeah, it’s a tad busier in the summer. Kids running though the hills, and the fields are full of sheep instead of frost. A lot less tripping over snowdrifts too.”

Evangeline chuckled softly, the sound tugging at something deep in his chest. “That’s a shame. I remember you taking a rather spectacular tumble the last time we walked this way.”

His lips twitched in a grin. “Spectacular? I slipped once.”

“Twice,” she corrected with a small, teasing smile. “And you nearly took me down with you the second time.”

“Nearly,” he said, tilting his head as if considering. “But I didn’t, did I? I’d call that chivalry.”

She rolled her eyes, but the smile lingered on her face, softening her features in a way that made his heart clench. For a moment, the guarded edge she’d carried since stepping out of the Floo seemed to ease, and he found himself clinging to the sight, committing it to memory.

The path curved gently, and Sebastian’s cottage came into view against the backdrop of rolling hills. Suddenly, he felt his stomach twist as they neared, his eyes darting to every imperfection he hadn’t noticed—or had been ignoring—until this very moment.

The wildflowers around the front had grown unruly, spilling over the edges of the narrow stone path. A shutter hung slightly askew, the paint beginning to peel at the edges. And though he’d meant to fix the squeaky hinge on the front gate, it still creaked in protest as he pushed it open.

Evangeline’s gaze swept over the cottage, and Sebastian braced himself, feeling his apprehension build. He wanted her to see it as she had at Christmas—warm, inviting, a reflection of how much effort he’d put in to make it a home. But this wasn’t Christmas. This was summer, and everything felt too bright, too exposed.

“It’s a mess,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I meant to, uh… tidy up the garden. And fix the shutters. And—”

“Sebastian,” she interrupted, her voice soft but firm. He turned to look at her, finding her hazel eyes fixed on the cottage, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then, to his surprise, a small, genuine smile curved her lips. “It’s lovely.”

“Lovely?” he echoed, skepticism laced in his tone. He glanced at the wildflowers falling across the path as if to make sure they were still there. “You don’t have to be nice. I know it’s not—”

“I mean it,” she said, her smile widening slightly. “It looks…” She paused, her gaze softening as it swept over the uneven stones, the slightly crooked gate, and the wildflowers swaying gently in the breeze. “Cozy."

She wasn’t lying; Sebastian could tell by the way her smile reached her eyes. Slowly, he let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You’re too kind.”

“I’m honest,” she replied lightly, brushing past him to open the front door.

When Evangeline stepped inside, her gaze swept over the familiar room, taking in every detail—the worn armchair by the hearth, the mismatched cushions, and the precariously stacked books that seemed to defy gravity. It all looked exactly as it had during her last visit.

Sebastian leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed as he watched her. She stood still, her fingers brushing absently over the back of the armchair, her gaze soft but distant. She let out a quiet, wistful sigh, and he realized she wasn’t just looking at the cottage—she was stepping back into a memory.

He wondered if her memories of this place felt anything like his. To him, having her back here was like slipping on a favorite jumper, something warm and comforting, worn just enough to feel like home. The time they’d spent together over Christmas had become a refuge in his mind, a place he returned to when the present felt too sharp, too uncertain. Those days had been simple and light, untouched by the jagged edges of regret and guilt.

Was it the same for her? Did she hold those moments as close as he did?

The question gnawed at him, and before he could stop himself—before he could second-guess the words—they slipped out, soft and unguarded.

“I missed you.”

The sound of his own voice startled him, and he saw her freeze, her fingers stilling against the armchair. For a heartbeat, the room felt impossibly still, the weight of his confession hanging in the air like something fragile and unspoken.

Sebastian opened his mouth, ready to backtrack, to brush it off as nothing more than a casual remark. But then Evangeline turned to look at him, her eyes locking onto his. Her gaze was steady, searching, as though she could see straight through the mask he so often wore, straight to the raw truth beneath.

Slowly, she let out a breath, the tension in her shoulders easing as her lips curved into the faintest of smiles.

“Me too,” she admitted quietly.

Sebastian’s chest tightened, the quiet honesty of her words hitting him like a spell cast point-blank. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected—if he’d expected anything at all—but hearing her say it, admitting she’d felt the same ache he had, was more than he deserved. And yet, it made the small ember of hope in his chest burn just a little brighter.

For a moment, neither of them moved, the quiet between them filling with all the things they couldn’t quite say. Then Sebastian pushed off the doorframe, clearing his throat. “I wasn’t sure you’d say yes. To coming here, I mean.”

She tilted her head, studying him with that same perceptive gaze. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He let out a dry laugh, raking a hand through his hair. “Because of me. Because of everything I—” He stopped, shaking his head as his throat tightened. “You’d have every reason not to.”

Evangeline looked at him for a long moment before letting out a soft laugh, “If I didn’t want to be here, Sebastian,” she said gently, “I wouldn’t have come.”

Her words settled over him like a balm, soothing the jagged edges of his nerves. He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat as he gestured toward the narrow hallway. “I, uh, put clean sheets on your bed and cleared some room in the wardrobe for you."

Evangeline’s lips curved faintly, and she hefted her trunk with a small nod. “Thank you.”

Sebastian stepped aside, letting her pass as she moved down the narrow hallway. He followed a few paces behind, his hands sliding into his pockets as he watched her take in her surroundings.

When Evangeline stepped into the room, she paused, her hazel eyes sweeping over the space. It was small but inviting, the soft light from the evening sun filtering through the lacy curtains that fluttered faintly in the breeze. Her gaze settled on the bedside table, where a simple vase of wildflowers—delicate purples and whites—stood quietly against the rustic wooden surface.

She approached it, setting her trunk at the foot of the bed as her fingers brushed one of the petals. “You’ve been busy,” she murmured, her voice soft.

Sebastian lingered in the doorway, leaning against the frame as he studied her reaction. “Figured it needed a bit of color,” he said, his shrug casual, though there was a hint of nerves in his tone. “Didn’t want you thinking I’ve forgotten how to be a decent host.”

Evangeline’s lips quirked into a small smile, her fingers still lightly tracing the petals. “Well,” she said, her voice adopting a teasing edge as she glanced at him over her shoulder, “back at Leander’s party, you did say you’d be getting me flowers. You know… to make me ‘fall in love with you.’”

Sebastian froze. For a moment, he stood perfectly still, her words hanging in the air like a challenge. The tips of his ears flushed a faint pink, and he cleared his throat, the ghost of a laugh escaping him as he leaned more heavily against the doorframe, crossing his arms as if to steady himself.

“Well,” he drawled, recovering quickly, his grin slow and slightly crooked, “I’m nothing if not a man of my word.”

Evangeline turned fully to face him, her smile widening as she chuckled softly. “You certainly took your time.”

“Had to make sure they were perfect,” he shot back smoothly, gesturing toward the vase with a slight tilt of his head. “Only the best for you.”

There was a playful lilt to his voice, but his gaze lingered on her a fraction longer than it should have, the teasing replaced by something softer.

If Evangeline caught it, she didn't let on. Instead, she stepped closer to the vase, her smile fading into something quieter, more sincere. “They are perfect,” she said, her voice softer now. “Thank you, Sebastian.”

His smirk faltered, expression shifting into something gentler. For a moment, he just watched her, the gratitude in her voice settling somewhere deep in his chest. “You’re welcome,” he said.

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was weighted, heavy with the things they hadn’t yet said. Sebastian shifted his stance, clearing his throat as he straightened. “Right, well... I’ll let you settle in. Dinner’s in a bit. Thought we could eat outside—it’s a nice evening.”

“That sounds lovely,” Evangeline replied, turning back to her trunk and busying herself with unpacking. “I’ll be out soon.”

Sebastian closed the door to her room quietly, leaning against the wall of the hallway for a moment as he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. She was here. Not just a fleeting letter or a hesitant conversation in passing, but here, in his home again.

He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to focus. Don’t mess this up, Sallow. The voice in his head wasn’t Ominis’s this time, but his own, sharp and unrelenting. She had every reason not to trust him, to keep him at arm’s length, and yet she’d chosen to come. That was something, wasn’t it?

Pushing off the wall, he headed for the kitchen, his thoughts spiraling as he pulled ingredients from the cupboards. He had planned ahead—more than he cared to admit—but now it all felt inadequate. The chicken he’d marinated earlier, the garden vegetables he’d picked that morning, the loaf of bread from the village baker—it was simple, too simple, wasn’t it?

He set the cutting board on the counter with more force than necessary, cursing under his breath. This isn’t a 5 star wizarding restaurant, you idiot. You don’t have to make it perfect. But the thought didn’t ease the tight knot in his chest.

Cooking had always been a way to keep his hands busy, his mind focused. When Anne had still been here, it had been his way of helping, of trying to make things easier for her when their lives had been anything but. She used to tease him for his attempts to recreate their mum’s recipes, but she’d always smiled when he succeeded. And when she didn’t smile... well, those nights had taught him to get better.

His hands moved automatically, peeling, slicing, seasoning. The rhythm of it settled something in him, though the nervous energy lingered just beneath the surface. Evangeline didn’t know this side of him, yet. She’d seen his recklessness, his impulsiveness, his sharp edges—but not this. This part of him was quieter, steadier. Softer, maybe.

Sebastian shook his head, letting out a dry laugh as he tossed the vegetables into a pan. Softer. That wasn’t the word he wanted her to associate with him. He wanted her to see him as strong, dependable, someone who could protect her. Someone she could trust again.

But the truth was, he wasn’t sure how she saw him now.

His gaze flicked to the door, half-expecting her to wander in. He could imagine her leaning against the counter, arms crossed, watching him with that curious tilt of her head. She’d probably laugh at the idea of him cooking—Sebastian Sallow, who could duel circles around anyone in their year, standing over a pan of roasted vegetables.

The thought brought a faint smile to his lips, though it faded quickly as doubt crept back in. What if tonight wasn’t enough? What if she was only here because she didn’t want to say no? What if she was already counting the days until she left again?

Sebastian set the knife down with a frustrated sigh, gripping the edge of the counter as his head dropped forward. Stop overthinking it. He’d promised her he’d prove himself, and that’s exactly what he was going to do—one small moment at a time, if that’s what it took.

The chicken came out of the oven, the bread onto a board, the vegetables plated with precision that bordered on obsessive. He worked in silence, letting the familiar motions ground him, until the table outside was set, the food arranged neatly in the center.

He stood back for a moment, wiping his hands on his trousers as he surveyed his work. The whole scene was… inviting. Not perfect, but good enough. He hoped.

Sebastian turned toward the cottage just as he heard the soft creak of the door opening. His heart skipped when he saw Evangeline step out. She had changed into something more comfortable—a light, flowy dress that he’d never seen her wear before. The fabric moved softly with the evening breeze, and he couldn’t stop himself from staring.

She was still the Evie he’d known for years—familiar in every way that mattered—but in the two months they’d been apart, it was as if something had shifted. He couldn’t put it into words—wasn’t even sure if he wanted to try—but the girl he’d known, the one he’d teased and laughed with and leaned on, had somehow become a woman. A breathtakingly beautiful one.

His gaze trailed over her full figure, taking in the way the dress skimmed her plush hips and accentuated her soft shape. Her shoulders, bare beneath the thin straps, caught the last light of the sun, and he couldn’t help but notice the delicate curve of her collarbone, the way it led to her neckline.

There was a quiet maturity in the way she carried herself now, an unspoken grace that hadn’t been there before. It wasn’t just her body—though Merlin knew his eyes kept flickering to her hips and her waist and her chest—it was everything about her. She was radiant.

Sebastian’s mouth went dry when she glanced at him, her hazel eyes soft and curious. She caught him staring, and for a split second, he thought about looking away, but he couldn’t. The way she tilted her head, the faint smile that played at her lips—it was like she was seeing straight through him.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

Sebastian blinked, his heart stuttering as he scrambled for something to say. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to look anywhere but at her. “Just… making sure everything’s ready.”

She smiled, stepping closer to the table and glancing at the spread he’d laid out. “This looks incredible,” she said, her fingers brushing the edge of the table as she looked back at him. “I didn’t know you could cook like this.”

Sebastian tried to play it off, shrugging as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "I mean, I didn't want you to think I invited you here just to starve you."

Evangeline let out a soft laugh, the sound like a balm to Sebastian’s nerves. “Well, I appreciate it. It smells amazing,” she said, her gaze lingering on the table before flicking back to him. “I think I might actually be impressed, Sebastian.”

“Careful,” he teased, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t go raising your expectations too high. I’m not trying to set a precedent here.”

She smirked, “I think it’s a little late for that. Between this and the flowers, you might actually convince me you’re good at this whole hosting thing.”

Sebastian’s grin faltered slightly as her words settled over him. He wanted her to feel welcome, to feel cared for, but there was a flicker of vulnerability in her tone that reminded him just how much had changed between them. He didn’t want this to feel like some elaborate performance to win her back—he wanted it to feel real. Genuine. Like it had always been.

“Well, don’t go telling anyone,” he said lightly, “Can’t have the word getting out that I’ve gone soft.”

Evangeline chuckled again as she sat down, smoothing her dress over her lap. Her gaze swept over the spread, her hazel eyes softening as she took it all in. “This... is really wonderful,” she said quietly.

Sebastian’s chest tightened at her words, the sincerity in her voice catching him off guard. He forced himself to sit down across from her, his hands fidgeting with the edge of his napkin as he tried to find something to say.

She took her first bite, her eyes widening slightly as the flavors hit her tongue. “Okay, I take it back,” she said, her voice tinged with playful awe. “This is more than impressive. This is… really good.”

Sebastian relaxed a little, leaning back in his chair with a grin. “Years of practice,” he admitted. “Anne had her favorites, and I got tired of hearing her complain when I burned something. Figured I’d better learn to do it properly.”

Evangeline’s smile softened, a flicker of something warmer passing through her eyes. “That’s… sweet,” she said, her voice quieter now. "Guess you're still full of surprises."

Sebastian felt his grin waver for a moment, her words hitting a place in his chest that made his heart ache and swell all at once. Surprises. He wasn’t sure if she meant it as a compliment or an observation, but the way she said it—soft, almost thoughtful—made him want to be better, to live up to whatever faint glimmer of hope she still saw in him.

“Well,” he said, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on the edge of the table, “stick around, and I might just have a few more up my sleeve.”

They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the clinking of cutlery and the distant hum of crickets filling the air. The sun sank lower on the horizon, casting the garden in a dusky orange glow, and Sebastian found himself stealing glances at her as they ate. She looked relaxed, her shoulders no longer tight with unease, and it made him wonder if, maybe, he’d done something right for once.

“You must miss her,” Evangeline said suddenly, breaking the quiet. Her voice was soft, tentative, as if she wasn’t sure she should have said it.

Sebastian blinked, caught off guard. He didn’t need to ask who she meant. His throat tightened, and he set his fork down slowly, his gaze dropping to his plate. “Every day,” he admitted, his voice low.

Evangeline’s expression softened, her hand stilling where it had been tracing the rim of her glass. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No,” he interrupted, shaking his head as he looked back at her. “It’s fine. Really. I… I like talking about her. Sometimes I think it’s the only way to keep her close, you know?”

She nodded, her hazel eyes steady on his, and for a moment, he thought she might say something more. Instead, she reached for her glass, taking a small sip before setting it down again.

“You know,” Sebastian said after a moment, his tone lighter now, “she used to say I was hopeless. Always burning things or forgetting ingredients.” He leaned back in his chair, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “She had this way of looking at me like I was the world’s biggest idiot, but then she’d sit there and eat every bite anyway.”

Evangeline smiled, a quiet laugh escaping her. “That sounds about right,” she said, her voice soft and warm. Then she paused, her expression turning thoughtful as she toyed with the edge of her napkin.

“In her last letter,” she began carefully, her gaze flicking up to meet his, “She said her pain trials at St. Mungo’s are going really well.”

Sebastian froze, his fork hovering mid-air as her words sank in. He placed it down slowly, his fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the table. “She did?” he asked, his voice quiet but threaded with cautious hope.

Evangeline nodded, her hazel eyes watching him closely. “She... she wrote that the pain isn’t as constant as it used to be. She’s sleeping better. Even managing some light activities without too much discomfort.”

Sebastian let out a shaky breath as the knot in his chest began to loosen. He pressed a hand to his forehead, his mind racing. “That’s… that’s amazing,” he murmured, his voice almost disbelieving.

Evangeline hesitated before speaking again, her voice gentler this time. “She mentioned you, too.”

Sebastian’s head shot up, his brown eyes widening. “She did?”

“She said…” Evangeline paused, choosing her words carefully. “She said she misses you. She wanted me to tell you."

Sebastian froze, his breath catching in his throat. The words hung in the air, heavy and disarming, as if they didn’t belong to the reality he’d been living in for the past year. His brown eyes searched Evangeline’s face, desperate to confirm she wasn’t just saying it to make him feel better.

“She… she really said that?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

Evangeline nodded, her expression steady but soft, as though she knew how much weight her words carried. “She did. It wasn’t easy for her to admit, I think. But it was there, in her letter—clear as day. I'll let you read it when we're back inside."

Sebastian sat back in his chair, staring at Evangeline as if he hadn’t heard her correctly. His fingers gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white, as the words swirled in his mind. She misses you. He couldn’t reconcile it, not with everything that had happened, not with the way he’d all but destroyed the connection he and Anne once had.

“You’d really let me read it?” he asked finally, his voice quiet, almost cautious. His gaze searched hers for any sign of hesitation, but Evangeline’s expression was unwavering.

She nodded. “Of course. I know how much she means to you, Sebastian.”

The tightness in his chest shifted, replaced by something fragile and warm, like a thread of hope pulling taut. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to steady his voice. “I—thank you. Really.”

Evangeline offered him a small smile, her fingers idly smoothing the edge of the napkin in her lap. “I think she’s starting to come around,” she said gently. “She’s still angry, but that doesn’t mean she’s forgotten you. And… she wants you to know that.”

Sebastian let out a long as his gaze wandered upward, settling on the faint stars beginning to peek through the dusky sky. For a moment, he allowed himself to feel the faint flicker of hope Evangeline’s words had ignited. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to steady him.

The silence lingered, warm and comfortable, until he glanced back at her. Evie's expression was thoughtful as she toyed with the edge of her napkin, her hazel eyes catching the fading light of the evening. He felt a smile tug at his lips before he realized it.

“So,” he said, breaking the quiet, “you’ve been all over this summer. Hopping from one friend’s house to another. What’s it like, being so popular?”

Evangeline’s head tilted, her lips twitching into a faint smile. “Popular? Hardly,” she said, a teasing lilt in her voice. “It was more… opportunistic.” She laughed softly, shaking her head. “I just didn’t want to go back to Fallowmere, and everyone kept offering. Natty, Nellie, even Imelda."

“Imelda?” Sebastian said, his brows shooting up. “You stayed with Reyes? Let me guess, she made you listen to endless recaps of her Quidditch matches?”

“Endless,” Evangeline confirmed with a grin.

Sebastian snorted, shaking his head. “You’re lucky she didn’t make you do drills in her garden.”

“She tried,” Evangeline admitted, her smile widening. “But no, it was good staying with her. Busy, loud… exactly what I needed after everything.”

Sebastian’s smile softened as he watched her, his gaze lingering. “And what about Natty?” he asked. “I imagine staying with her was more… structured.”

E Evangeline nodded, her expression softening as a faraway look crept into her eyes. “It was. Her mum was very welcoming, though. And Natty—she’s just so good at making you feel at home. We spent a lot of time walking and talking. She’s… wise in ways I’ll never be.”

Sebastian hummed absently, though his stomach churned at the memory of Natsai Onai and the “conversation” they’d had just before the end of last term. His mind wandered briefly to the library, where she’d found him loitering behind a towering shelf, clearly trying to avoid her.

She hadn’t given him a choice.

With a startling amount of strength for her petite frame, Natty had grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out to the courtyard before he could even protest. Her calm exterior had been more terrifying than if she’d been shouting. The tension in her jaw, the barely contained fire in her eyes—Sebastian had faced curses and duels, but nothing had prepared him for that.

She hadn’t raised her voice once.

Instead, she’d quietly and methodically eviscerated him, her words hitting harder than any spell could have. Her disappointment in him, her anger at his behavior at Leander’s party—particularly how it had hurt Evangeline—was laid bare in brutal clarity.

“You are supposed to be her friend, Sebastian,” she’d said, her voice like ice. “Instead, you chose to act selfishly, carelessly, and worse—publicly humiliate her.”

By the end of it, he’d felt small, like a first-year caught cheating in Charms. Natty hadn’t demanded an apology; she’d merely stared him down until he’d stammered out something resembling contrition. Even now, the memory made him want to crawl under a rock.

Sebastian shook the thought off and forced himself to meet Evangeline’s gaze again. “Yeah, Natty’s… definitely wise,” he muttered, tugging at the collar of his shirt as if he could still feel her iron grip. He quickly changed the subject, “And what about Nellie? Please tell me you didn’t let her rope you into one of her… experiments.”

Evangeline groaned, rolling her eyes. “She tried. Merlin, did she try. Something about levitating candles for hours so she could prove they lasted longer than regular ones.”

Sebastian laughed again, shaking his head. “Classic Nellie.”

“She’s brilliant,” Evangeline admitted, her tone warm. “A little chaotic, but brilliant. It was fun, though. Her family is so… big and warm. A little overwhelming at times, but in a good way.”

“And now you’re here,” Sebastian said, his tone quieter now. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table as he met her gaze. “What’s that like?”

Evangeline’s hazel eyes flickered with something he couldn’t quite name. “It’s…” she hesitated, her gaze drifting past him for a moment as if she were searching for the right words. Then, finally, she drew a quiet breath and looked back at him. "It's like coming home."

Sebastian’s breath caught at her words, his chest tightening in a way that was both unexpected and painfully familiar. Home. The word hung in the air between them, impossibly heavy and impossibly soft, carrying more weight than she probably realized. Or maybe she did. Maybe that was why she’d hesitated before saying it.

Evangeline’s hazel eyes met his, steady but tinged with something vulnerable, as if she wasn’t sure how he would respond. She had never admitted something like this before—not to him, not to anyone. She’d grown up in a place that was safe at best and cold at worst, the kind of place that housed you but never embraced you. The kind of place that made you wonder if home was a real thing, or just something other people got to have.

And now she was sitting here, across from him, calling this—his home—hers, too.

Sebastian leaned back slightly, his forearms slipping from the edge of the table as he let the words sink in. The crackle of crickets in the garden and the faint rustle of the breeze filled the quiet, but he barely noticed.

“I…” He cleared his throat, trying to find his voice. "Well... you'll always have a home here, Evie."

For a moment, her eyes flickered, and he thought he saw the beginnings of something tender in her gaze, something raw and unspoken. But then, as though suddenly realizing what she’d admitted, she shifted, her walls snapping back into place. He recognized the faint tension in her shoulders, the way she straightened just slightly, as though bracing herself.

She glanced down at her empty plate and began to gather it up, her movements quick and efficient. “Well it's getting dark... we should clean this up,” she said lightly, as if they hadn’t just shared a moment that would be carved into his memory for years to come.

Sebastian didn’t press. He knew better than to push when she wasn’t ready, and truthfully, he wasn’t discouraged. Everything that had happened so far—the way she’d smiled, the quiet sincerity of her words, the fact that she was here at all—was more than he’d dared to hope for.

He stood, grabbing the remaining plates and following her inside. And without speaking, they fell into step with each other, moving around the small kitchen like two pieces of a puzzle that still fit perfectly together.

Evangeline started rinsing the plates while Sebastian fetched the dishcloth and a drying rack. It was a rhythm they had built months ago, during those quiet days over Christmas, and falling back into it now felt as natural as breathing. Neither of them commented on it, but he caught the faintest curve of her lips as she handed him a plate to dry.

The soft clink of dishes and the gentle rush of water filled the silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt… right. Like all the tension and uncertainty of the past few months had been stripped away.

Sebastian couldn’t help stealing glances at her as they worked. The way the soft glow of the lamplight played across her face, the way her lashes cast delicate shadows against her cheeks. She didn’t look at him, but her posture had relaxed again, and he took that as a small victory.

When the last dish was dried and set neatly on the rack, Evangeline wiped her hands on a towel and turned to him, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Not bad,” she said, her voice light. “I’d forgotten how efficient we are.”

Sebastian grinned, leaning against the counter. “Yeah," he stretched out the word, "Though I’d argue I did most of the heavy lifting.”

Evangeline raised a brow, her smile turning teasing. “Oh, absolutely. Drying dishes is the pinnacle of effort.”

“Someone has to do it,” he replied with a shrug.

She chuckled, shaking her head as she hung the towel neatly on the hook by the sink. “Well, I think we’ve earned some time to relax.”

Sebastian nodded, pushing off the counter as they both headed down the hall. Without even discussing it, they each retreated to their respective rooms to change, another echo of the easy routine they’d built during her last visit.

When Sebastian emerged a few minutes later, now in an old T-shirt and plaid pajama bottoms, he found Evangeline already curled up on the sofa, a book in hand.

She seemed entirely absorbed, her hazel eyes scanning the page with quiet focus, but the corner of her mouth lifted ever so slightly as if she were reading something amusing.

He paused in the doorway for a moment, the sight of her stirring something warm and bittersweet in his chest. It was like stepping back into one of those evenings over Christmas, the two of them sharing the same space with an ease that had felt almost too good to last. And yet, here they were.

Clearing his throat softly, Sebastian stepped further into the room. “You know, you could've raided my bookshelves if you wanted something more exciting.”

Evangeline looked up, her lips curving into a small, teasing smile. “And what would you suggest, Hogwarts: A History? Or maybe something on dueling techniques?” She gestured to the book in her hand. “This, for your information, is plenty exciting.”

Sebastian tilted his head, squinting at the cover. "Mansfield Park?"

Evangeline’s teasing smile widened as she raised the book slightly, tilting it for him to see. "It’s really good."

Sebastian snorted, stepping closer to drop onto the other end of the sofa. "Another Jane Austen book, eh? You always go for stories with so much pining and repressed feelings.”

Evangeline laughed softly, closing the book just enough to mark her place with her finger. “And what exactly is wrong with pining and repressed feelings?” she asked, her tone light but tinged with curiosity.

Sebastian leaned back, propping his feet up on the worn coffee table. “It’s frustrating,” he said with a sigh. “All that build-up, all those stolen glances, and then half the time, they don’t even end up saying what they really feel until the last page. Feels like torture.”

Evangeline arched a brow, her teasing smile softening. “You’d prefer something more straightforward, then? What—two characters meet, confess their feelings in the first chapter, and spend the rest of the book being sickeningly happy?”

Sebastian shrugged, crossing his arms behind his head. “Wouldn’t hurt to cut out all the unnecessary drama. Saves everyone some trouble.”

“Unnecessary drama,” Evangeline echoed, her tone dry but amused. She leaned back against the sofa, angling her body slightly toward him. “Coming from you, that’s rich.”

He gave her a pointed look, but the grin tugging at his lips betrayed him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please,” she said, rolling her eyes. "I’ve seen you turn a stubbed toe into a near-death experience.”

Sebastian scoffed, sitting up a little straighter. “That was one time. And for the record, it wasn’t a stubbed toe—it was a fractured toe.”

Evangeline laughed, the sound light and melodic, filling the room like warmth spreading through the space. “Sure it was,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “And I suppose the world nearly ended because of it?”

“Nearly,” he said, smirking now. “But luckily, I’m resilient. A survivor, really.”

She smirked but didn’t respond, her focus returning to the book in her hands. For a moment, the only sounds were the faint crackle of the hearth and the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall. Sebastian’s gaze drifted over her, watching the way her fingers absentmindedly turned the pages, her posture relaxing as she became engrossed again.

Finally, curiosity got the better of him. “Alright,” he said, leaning forward and nodding at the book. “What’s all the fuss about?”

Evangeline looked up, arching a brow. “Fuss?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian said, gesturing lazily. “This book—What’s so great about it?”

She laughed, tucking her legs beneath her. “You wouldn't get it.”

“Try me,” he said, smirking.

Evangeline hesitated, her hazel eyes narrowing as if she were trying to gauge whether or not he was being serious. Then, with an air of exasperation, she held the book out to him. “Fine. But you’d better not make fun of it.”

Sebastian took the book with a dramatic flourish, flipping through the pages with exaggerated curiosity. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m going to give this the reverence it deserves.”

Evangeline rolled her eyes but smiled. “Start where I left off—it’s marked.”

He found the spot and settled back, clearing his throat with an overly formal air. “Alright, let’s see… had Sir Thomas applied to his daughter within the first three or four days after Henry Crawford's leaving Mansfield, before her feelings were at all tranquilised, before she had given up every hope of him, or absolutely resolved on enduring his rival, her answer might have been different."

Sebastian stopped, lifting his gaze from the page with a bemused expression. "Alright, I already need context. Who’s Sir Thomas, and why does this Henry bloke have a rival? Is this another love triangle?”

Evangeline laughed softly, shaking her head. “Just keep reading."

Sebastian sighed dramatically but returned to the page. "Her answer might have been different; but, after another three days, when there was no longer anything new to agitate her spirits…” He paused, squinting at the sentence. “And her thoughts became quietly fixed on the father and the son, their merits and their situations…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Is she deciding between Henry and Edmund? Are they both in love with her?”

Evangeline sighed, though there was a trace of amusement in her expression. “It’s not as simple as that. Fanny’s loved Edmund all along, but Henry—well, he’s charming, but she doesn’t trust him.”

Sebastian tilted his head, processing her explanation. “So, Edmund’s the good guy, but he’s oblivious? And Henry’s the one stirring up trouble?”

“Exactly,” she said, her smile widening. “See? You’re getting the hang of it. Now go on." he urged, settling more deeply into the sofa, her head resting against the cushion.

Sebastian huffed a quiet laugh but obliged, turning the page and letting the story unfold. Time slipped by unnoticed, the words spilling effortlessly from his lips as Evangeline listened, her body sinking deeper into the cushions.

When he finally paused, his throat dry, he glanced down at her again. Her breathing was slow and even, and her head had tilted slightly to the side, her expression serene. For a moment, he wondered if she’d fallen asleep, the sight tugging something warm and fragile in his chest.

“Evie?” he asked softly.

She hummed, her eyes fluttering open but staying half-lidded. “Still here,” she mumbled, her voice drowsy.

Sebastian grinned, setting the book down beside him. “You’re dangerously close to making me think you like this.”

Evangeline chuckled sleepily, stretching her legs out. “I might be reconsidering your talents.”

Her eyes fluttered closed again as she nestled deeper into the cushions. A faint smile played at her lips, and for a moment, Sebastian thought she might have drifted off entirely.

But when he murmured some joke about his reading being the only reason she enjoyed his company, she hummed in response. Then, in a voice so soft it was barely above a whisper, she said, “I’ve always enjoyed your company.”

Sebastian’s breath caught, his smirk faltering as her words settled over him. She didn’t open her eyes, didn’t look at him—like the admission had slipped past her usual defenses in the haze of her exhaustion. And yet, it hit him squarely in the chest, a quiet, unexpected truth that left him momentarily speechless.

He turned his gaze toward the hearth, the faint glow of the fire casting warm shadows across the room. The silence stretched between them, comfortable and fragile all at once, until Evangeline’s breathing evened out completely.

She was asleep.

Sebastian let out a soft, wry laugh under his breath, shaking his head as he glanced back at her. Her head had tilted to rest against the arm of the sofa, her dark hair spilling over the cushion like a curtain. She looked peaceful, more relaxed than he’d seen her in months, and the sight stirred something deep and unshakable in him.

Careful not to wake her, he reached for the knitted throw draped over the back of the sofa, unfolding it quietly. He hesitated for a moment, watching the rise and fall of her chest, before draping it gently over her. His fingers lingered on the edge of the blanket, the temptation to brush a strand of hair from her face almost overwhelming.

But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not yet.

Instead, he leaned back again, his head tipping against the worn cushion as he let out a slow breath. He knew full well he’d regret it come morning—the stiff ache in his neck was already a foregone conclusion—but the thought of moving, of leaving this moment, felt impossible.

Evangeline was here, just an arm’s length away, her breathing soft and steady as she dozed. The fire in the hearth crackled faintly, its glow flickering across her face, and Sebastian was utterly transfixed. Her features, so familiar yet somehow softer in sleep, stirred a strange ache in his chest—warm and tender and just a little bit painful.

He’d spent so many nights before her arrival imagining this moment, but none of his idle dreams had come close to the reality. The way her hair fell in loose waves across the cushion, the faint curve of her lips, the quiet trust in the way she’d allowed herself to fall asleep here—it all felt so achingly precious that he was half-convinced he’d wake up and find it gone.

He knew he didn’t deserve this—not yet. After everything he’d done, everything he’d put her through, the fact that she was here at all was nothing short of a miracle.

And yet, here she was. And Merlin, she was beautiful.

Sebastian’s lips quirked into a faint, rueful smile as he let out a soft chuckle under his breath. “Hopeless,” he muttered to himself, the word barely audible over the faint crackle of the fire. That’s what he was—utterly, irredeemably hopeless when it came to her.

The fire began to dim, the warm glow fading into soft embers, and the room grew quieter, the shadows stretching longer across the walls. His head tilted slightly to the side, his body settling deeper into the cushions as sleep began to claim him. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Sebastian Sallow dreamed of nothing but warmth and home.

~

The first thing Sebastian noticed when he woke was the stiffness in his neck. The second thing he noticed was the blanket draped over him.

He frowned, blinking groggily as his fingers brushed the soft fabric. It was the same throw he’d used to cover Evangeline last night. He sat up slowly, rubbing a hand over his face as he pieced it together. She must have woken up at some point, seen him sprawled here like an idiot, and decided to return the favor.

His lips twitched into a faint smile as he let his head fall back against the cushion, staring at the ceiling for a moment. He wasn’t sure how it was possible to feel so content and so ridiculous at the same time.

The sound of soft humming drifted from the kitchen, light and melodic, pulled him out of his thoughts. He sat up slowly, the blanket slipping from his shoulders as his curiosity piqued. Evangeline’s voice—it was unmistakable, though she wasn’t exactly singing. It was more absentminded, a gentle tune that seemed to have no real path.

He rubbed the last remnants of sleep from his eyes before glancing toward the kitchen. And then he froze.

Evangeline was standing by the counter, the kettle steaming gently as she reached for a tin of tea leaves. Her back was to him, her hair falling in loose waves over her shoulders, and she was barefoot on the wooden floor.

And that’s when Sebastian realized.

She wasn’t wearing the pajama bottoms she’d worn last night. Nor the same top. In fact, the shirt she had on looked suspiciously like one of his own. It hugged her shoulders but hung loosely everywhere else, just barely covered her. The hem swayed as she shifted her weight, exposing far more of her thighs than Sebastian had ever seen.

He swallowed hard, heat rushing to his face as his gaze darted away. His heart gave a sharp, startled thud against his ribs, and he clenched his jaw, trying to steady himself. Merlin’s beard, Sallow, pull yourself together.

But his eyes betrayed him, flickering back to her as she continued humming, blissfully unaware of his presence. He’d seen her in a hundred different moments—storming into battle without hesitation, laughing with friends, leaning over a potion station with that focused furrow of her brow—but this was different. This was… intimate.

There was something so effortlessly domestic about the scene—her moving around his kitchen, preparing tea as if she belonged there—that it left him stunned.

Then she turned slightly, reaching for a mug, and the motion made the hem of her shirt ride up just a fraction higher, and Sebastian’s heart pounded as he caught the faintest glimpse of her face. Panic surged through him. Maybe I’m not supposed to see this. Maybe she doesn’t realize I’m awake.

Without thinking, he slumped back against the cushions and let his head fall to the side, squeezing his eyes shut in a hasty attempt to feign sleep. The blanket still draped across his lap helped sell the image, though he cursed inwardly at how unnatural his breathing suddenly felt.

The sound of her soft humming stopped, and he held his breath, listening to her movements as she shuffled in the kitchen. A cupboard opened, then closed. Liquid poured into a mug. Then another. The soft clink of a teaspoon stirring followed, each sound louder against the quiet morning air.

Sebastian willed himself not to peek, but it took every ounce of restraint he had. He wasn’t sure why this moment felt so precarious, so fragile. Maybe it was because she looked so unguarded, so at ease, and the thought of disrupting that made something tighten in his chest.

He heard her footsteps—barely more than a soft padding on the wooden floor—drawing closer. Is she…?

Then they paused, and for a moment, he wondered if she’d caught him. His heart thudded painfully in his chest as he fought to keep his breaths slow and even.

“You’re such a liar,” Evangeline’s voice broke the silence, light and teasing. “I know you’re awake, Sebastian.”

His eyes flew open, heat flooding his face as he turned to look at her. She stood just a few feet away, a mug in her hands, one eyebrow arched in amusement. The corners of her mouth twitched in a knowing smile, and her eyes sparkled with mischief.

Sebastian groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “Merlin’s sake, how did you know?”

Evangeline’s smile widened as she shrugged. “You were doing that thing where you breathe like you’re auditioning to play dead. It’s not very convincing.”

Sebastian let out a laugh despite himself, sitting up fully and rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, fine. Guilty as charged.” His gaze flickered to the mug in her hands, eager to latch onto any distraction. “Is that tea for me, or…?”

“It could be,” she said, her tone playfully ambiguous. “If you’re nice.”

He smirked, pushing himself to sit upright, “Nice? I’m always nice.”

Evangeline tilted her head, her gaze meeting his with a skeptical expression. “Sure you are,” she said lightly, holding the mug out to him.

Their fingers brushed as he took it, and for a moment, the teasing between them faded, replaced by a quiet warmth. Sebastian swallowed, his grip tightening on the mug as he forced himself to focus on something—anything—other than the shockingly naked expanse of her legs and the fact that she was definitely wearing one of his shirts.

“Thanks,” he said softly, his voice lacking its usual edge of sarcasm.

Evangeline smiled, her gaze flickering away briefly before she stepped back toward the kitchen to retrieve her own mug. “I figured you could use it. The way you were sleeping looked... uncomfortable.”

“It was,” Sebastian admitted, rising from the couch and following her to the counter. “But, you know, worth it. For the company.” He leaned against the counter, watching as she moved about with easy confidence, still barefoot, still wearing that damn shirt that sent his thoughts spiraling if he looked for too long.

She shot him a look over her shoulder, her smile softening. “You didn’t have to stay out here, you know. You could’ve gone to bed.”

He shrugged, taking a sip of tea to buy himself a moment. “Didn’t feel right, leaving you out here on your own.”

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, "Learning from past mistakes, are we?"

Sebastian winced as though she'd pushed on a fresh bruise. His grip on the mug tightened, his shoulders stiffening as guilt bubbled to the surface.

“Evie,” he started, his voice low, but she cut him off.

“Relax,” she said, turning her back to him as she busied herself with tidying the counter. “It’s just a joke.” Then, without looking back at him, she added lightly, “Guess there weren’t any girls around this time for you to leave me for.”

Her words were casual, almost flippant, but they cut through him like a blade. Sebastian froze, his grip on the mug tightening until his knuckles turned white. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Because he certainly deserved that.

Evangeline didn’t wait for an answer. She grabbed her mug and took a quick sip, her posture too relaxed to be genuine. “I should get dressed,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. “Don’t want to scandalize the sheep.”

The joke was so absurd, so pointedly deflective, that Sebastian might have laughed if he hadn’t been stuck between frustration and guilt. Instead, he watched as she padded toward the hallway, her bare legs carrying her out of sight before he could gather his thoughts enough to respond.

The sound of her bedroom door clicking shut echoed faintly in the quiet kitchen. Sebastian exhaled shakily, setting his mug down on the counter with more force than necessary. He braced his hands against the edge of the counter, his head hanging as he closed his eyes and let out a slow, measured breath.

You deserve this, he reminded himself. Every barb, every joke, every hesitant glance. He’d shattered her trust, and he had no right to expect forgiveness, much less an easy path to earning it back.

But she was here. Somehow, against all odds, she was here.

He lifted his head, glancing toward the hallway where her door remained firmly shut. The fact that she’d said yes, that she’d come here despite everything—despite him—was more than he deserved.

There was no room for self-pity, no space for sulking. He’d made a mess of things, and he was damn well going to fix it. Slowly, one moment at a time, until she could look at him without that flicker of doubt in her hazel eyes.

~

The sun was high in the sky when they arrived in Upper Hogsfield, the small village bustling with quiet activity. Sebastian glanced over at Evangeline, who was taking in the sights with curiosity, her earlier sharpness replaced by an easy calm. She had changed into a tailored blouse with lace details, and a floor-length skirt with subtle pleats; a wide-brimmed summer hat was perched on her head. The tension from the morning seemed to have eased, though he could still see traces of it in the way she kept a slight distance between them.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, falling into step beside her as they wandered down the main street. “It’s not much,” he said, gesturing to the modest shops and cottages lining the road. “But it’s been keeping me busy.”

Evangeline turned to him, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Busy is good,” she said lightly. “Better than brooding, I suppose.”

He smirked, the comment drawing a quiet chuckle from him.

They passed a group of children playing by the well, their laughter filling the warm afternoon air. Evangeline watched them with a soft expression before turning back to Sebastian. “So, where exactly have you been working?”

Sebastian tilted his head toward the apothecary at the far end of the village. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

The shop was small but inviting, its windows filled with neatly labeled jars and bundles of dried herbs. Sebastian pushed the door open, the bell above it chiming softly as they stepped inside. The familiar scent of potion ingredients—earthy, sharp, and faintly sweet—greeted them, and Sebastian felt a faint sense of pride as he glanced around the tidy shelves.

“Sebastian!” a cheerful voice called from behind the counter. An older witch with streaks of silver in her dark hair emerged from the back room, her face lighting up when she saw him. “And you’ve brought a guest, I see.”

Evangeline gave a polite smile, stepping forward slightly. “I’m Evangeline,” she said, her tone warm but measured.

The woman’s sharp eyes flicked between them, her smile widening knowingly. “Pleasure to meet you, my dear. I’m Rosalie, I’ve been keeping this one in line all summer.” She winked at Sebastian, who rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

“Don’t let her fool you,” Sebastian said, leaning against the counter. “She’s the one who’s been keeping me sane. Barely.”

Rosalie laughed, waving a hand at him. “Oh, nonsense. You’ve been a fine worker. A bit clumsy with the scales at first, but you’ve got a good head for brewing.” She turned her attention back to Evangeline, her smile softening. “He’s been talking about you for weeks, you know.”

Sebastian froze, heat rushing to his face as he shot his boss a warning look. “Rosalie—”

“What?” she said innocently, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “It’s true.”

Evangeline glanced at Sebastian, her expression unreadable, before turning back to Rosalie with a faint smile. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Sebastian cleared his throat, desperate to steer the conversation back on track. “Anyway, this is where I’ve been spending most of my time,” he said, gesturing around the shop.

Evangeline wandered over to one of the shelves, her fingers lightly brushing the polished wood as she inspected the rows of neatly labeled jars. “It’s nice,” she said softly, her gaze trailing over the array of potion ingredients. “Quieter than J. Pippins, I imagine.”

Sebastian chuckled, stepping beside her. “A bit. No duels breaking out in the street outside, at least.”

Her lips curved into a faint smile, though she didn’t look at him. “Must be a change of pace for you.”

He tilted his head, watching her as she continued perusing the shelves. “It’s not so bad. Keeps me out of trouble.”

Evangeline raised an eyebrow, finally glancing his way. “Trouble? You? Never.”

Before he could respond, Rosalie called from behind the counter. “Evangeline, dear, you must try the salves Sebastian’s been working on. He’s got a knack for them—his bruise balm works wonders.”

Evangeline turned, raising an eyebrow at Sebastian. “A bruise balm? Sounds useful.”

Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “It’s nothing fancy. Just a simple recipe. But Rosalie insists on testing it on every scrape and bump anyone brings through the door.”

“Because it works,” Rosalie interjected, crossing her arms with a satisfied grin. “He’s underselling himself, as usual.”

Evangeline smirked, stepping closer to the counter. “I am curious to see this supposed brilliance for myself.”

Rosalie chuckled, reaching under the counter to pull out a small tin. “Here you go, dear. Take it—it’s on the house.”

Evangeline accepted the small tin, turning it over in her hands before stashing it in one of the shopping bags she’d acquired earlier. “Thanks,” she said softly, her tone unusually gentle. “I’ll be sure to put it to good use.”

Sebastian smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter. “Try not to go out of your way to injure yourself just to test it.”

She raised an eyebrow, her eyes glinting with mischief. “No promises. If it’s as good as Rosalie says, I might need to give it a proper trial.”

Rosalie laughed, shaking her head as she bustled back toward the shelves. “I’d trust this one with my life when it comes to salves and draughts. Though you might want to keep an eye on him around anything flammable.”

Evangeline chuckled, "Oh trust me, I'm well aware. Aguamenti is one of the first spells I learned after meeting him."

Sebastian let out a mock groan, dragging a hand through his hair as he shot Evangeline a dramatic look. “One little mishap I’m branded for life.”

Evangeline smirked. “One little mishap? Shall I list them all? Because I distinctly remember a certain incident involving fireworks and—”

“Alright, alright,” Sebastian cut in, holding up his hands in surrender, though his grin betrayed him. “No need to air all my secrets. I’d like Rosalie to still think I’m semi-responsible.”

Rosalie chuckled from across the shop, her voice light with amusement. “Too late for that, I’m afraid.”

Sebastian cleared his throat, suddenly finding the shop exit very interesting. “Alright, that’s enough roasting for one day,” he said, his tone half-joking as he pushed off the counter. “Come on, Evie. Let me show you the rest of the village before Rosalie starts telling you all my embarrassing stories.”

Evangeline shot him a knowing smile but didn’t argue, falling into step beside him as they headed for the door. The bell chimed softly as they stepped outside, the warm afternoon sunlight washing over them.

Evangeline was at ease, and she walked beside Sebastian with her hands loosely clasped behind her back, shopping bags in hand, glancing at the quaint cottages and the cheerful vendors calling out their wares. She even laughed when a particularly cheeky goat stuck its head through a fence to try and nibble at her dress.

“Your tour’s off to a decent start,” she said, glancing at him with a teasing smile. “Though the livestock could use some manners.”

Sebastian chuckled, shaking his head as he opened the café door for her. “Can’t promise much there. Feldcroft and Upper Hogsfield aren’t exactly known for their refined goat etiquette.”

Evangeline snorted, the sound making him grin as they stepped inside the local café. It was cozy, with mismatched chairs and floral tablecloths that looked like they’d been stitched decades ago. A soft buzz of chatter filled the air, mingling with the rich aroma of coffee and savory pies.

They found a small table near the window, and Sebastian pulled out a chair for Evangeline with a flourish. “Your seat, madam.”

She rolled her eyes but took the seat anyway. Their banter came easily, and Sebastian felt himself relax as they browsed the menu. They ordered—chicken and leek pie for her, steak for him—along with tea that arrived almost instantly in steaming mugs.

“So,” Evangeline began, swirling her spoon in her tea, “Rosalie seems fond of you.”

Sebastian leaned back in his chair, tilting his head thoughtfully. “Honestly, I think Rosalie keeps me around more for the company than my skill. Not that I mind—I’ve learned a lot. Brewing outside of class is different, though. Less about following instructions and more about figuring things out on your own.”

Evangeline tilted her head, her hazel eyes studying him over the rim of her mug. “So you like it? Working there, I mean.”

Sebastian hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, I think I do. It’s not flashy or exciting, but it’s… steady. And after everything, steady feels good.”

She hummed softly, her fingers idly tracing the edge of her cup. “You’ve never struck me as the ‘steady’ type, Sebastian. But I suppose we all grow up eventually.”

He smirked, leaning forward to rest his arms on the table. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Even if it sounds like you’re implying I was a reckless idiot before.”

Evangeline’s lips quirked into a faint smile, and she raised her mug to her lips. “Not implying,” she said lightly, taking a sip.

Sebastian chuckled, shaking his head as their pies arrived. The rich aroma of buttery pastry and savory filling filled the air, and for a few moments, they ate in companionable silence.

“So,” she said, breaking the quiet as she set her fork down. “Have you thought about what you want to do after Hogwarts? Continue on the path to become a Potioneer perhaps? You’d already have an apprenticeship lined up here, and you are quite talented at it.”

Sebastian considered the question, his brow furrowing slightly. It was something he’d been turning over in his mind all summer, though he still didn’t have a clear answer. “I don’t think so,” he admitted, his voice quieter. “I’ve thought about it, but… I don't think it's right for me. There is such a thing as too steady. Spending the rest of my life weighing ingredients and stirring cauldrons? I don’t know. Feels a bit… tame.”

Evangeline tilted her head, her hazel eyes studying him thoughtfully. "Yeah... I can't say it's what I imagined for you. But you’ll figure it out.” Her tone was steady, certain, and it sent a small wave of warmth through him.

“Thanks,” he said softly, his gaze lingering on her. “What about you? Any grand plans after Hogwarts?”

She shrugged, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll travel for a while. I... think I'd like to become a curse-breaker."

Sebastian tried to swallow the unease that crept up his throat, but it clung stubbornly, sour and unshakable. A curse-breaker. Of course, it made sense for her—smart, brave, fiercely independent. It was exactly the sort of future she’d thrive in.

But most curse-breakers were sent far away, tackling ancient ruins and dangerous sites in remote corners of the world. His mind spun with the thought of her being gone for months, maybe even years at a time. The thought of his life without her in it at all was almost unbearable.

“That’s… ambitious,” he said finally, his voice more strained than he intended. He cleared his throat, forcing a smile as he tried again. “It’s a perfect fit for you, though. Adventurous, dangerous, getting to show off your ancient magic prowess—very Evangeline Sterling.”

Her lips curved faintly, though she seemed too focused on her tea to notice the tension in his voice. “It’s just an idea,” she said, her tone light. “I haven’t decided on anything yet. There’s still time.”

Time. The word was meant to be reassuring, but it only made the knot in his stomach tighten. He wanted to say something more, something encouraging that didn’t make him sound like a selfish git. But the words stuck, stubborn and uncooperative, as though the very idea of her leaving had tied them in knots.

He was saved—or cursed, depending on how he looked at it—by the subtle change in Evangeline’s posture. She stiffened almost imperceptibly, her gaze flicking toward the window behind him. The faint smile on her face vanished, replaced by something guarded, almost cold.

Sebastian frowned, turning slightly in his seat to follow her line of sight. It didn’t take long to spot the source of her sudden change.

Abigail Hartwell.

The fifth-year-going-on-sixth-year Gryffindor stood outside the café, chatting animatedly with one of the vendors. Her auburn hair gleamed in the sunlight, and her laugh carried faintly through the glass. She was holding up a vibrant scarf, twirling it in her hands as the shopkeeper nodded along with her chatter.

Sebastian’s stomach dropped.

Of course, it had to be her, the girl he'd kissed by the fire. Because why wouldn’t the universe throw this particular wrench into what had otherwise been a near-perfect day?

He turned back to Evangeline, his heart sinking further at the carefully neutral expression she wore. Her gaze had returned to her tea, her fingers tracing the rim of her mug with slow, deliberate movements. But the slight tension in her jaw and the way her shoulders held just a fraction too tightly gave her away.

Sebastian cleared his throat, trying to fill the awkward silence that had suddenly wrapped itself around the table like a shroud. “Evie—”

“Don’t,” she said softly, cutting him off without looking up. Her voice wasn’t sharp, but it carried a weight that stopped him in his tracks. “It’s fine.”

“I didn’t know she’d be here," he insisted, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table as he tried to catch her eye.

Evangeline let out a quiet, humorless laugh, finally looking up at him. Her eyes were guarded, her expression carefully composed. “Sebastian, I’m not upset. She has every right to exist."

The words were calm, measured, but they hit Sebastian like a punch to the gut. She wasn’t raising her voice or accusing him of anything, and that somehow made it worse.

“You know we don't speak anymore,” he said, his voice low but earnest. "We haven't spoken since..."

Evangeline’s lips quirked into something resembling a smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I believe you.”

“Then why won’t you look at me?” he asked softly, his heart pounding in his chest.

Her gaze flicked up to meet his, steady but unreadable. “Because it doesn’t change anything, Sebastian. I’m not mad. I just… I don’t want to talk about it.”

He opened his mouth to protest, to try again, but she cut him off with a small shake of her head. “Please,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Can we just… finish lunch?”

Sebastian stared at her for a long moment, his mind racing with all the things he wanted to say. But the guarded look in her eyes stopped him. She wasn’t ready, and pushing her would only make things worse.

“Alright,” he said finally, his voice soft and reluctant. He leaned back in his chair, picking up his fork even though the thought of eating made his stomach churn.

Evangeline gave him a small, almost grateful nod before returning to her pie. The conversation shifted after that—forced, lighter topics that neither of them seemed particularly invested in. But Sebastian couldn’t shake the tension lingering between them, like a shadow neither of them wanted to acknowledge.

When they left the café, the sun had dipped lower in the sky, casting warm golden hues over the village. Sebastian led the way back toward the Floo, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he stole glances at Evangeline. She walked beside him, her expression calm but distant, and he felt the weight of her silence like a leaden knot in his chest.

By the time they reached the apothecary, Sebastian couldn’t take it anymore. He stopped abruptly, turning to face her. “Evie—”

She stopped too, tilting her head slightly as she met his gaze, and he hesitated, his throat tightening around the words he wanted to say. But then he let out a slow breath, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I just… I’m sorry.”

Evangeline frowned, her hazel eyes narrowing slightly. “For what?”

“For everything,” he said, his voice low and earnest. “For being such a colossal idiot."

She stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, to his surprise, her lips curved into a faint, tired smile. “You’re always apologizing, Sebastian.”

“Because I’m always screwing things up,” he muttered.

Evangeline let out a soft sigh, stepping closer. “Look, I don’t need another apology,” she said gently. “I just… I need time. Okay?"

Sebastian nodded, his throat tight as he forced himself to look at her.

“Time,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “Alright.”

She gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod before turning and continuing toward the Floo station. He followed, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

The sun was skimming the horizon by the time they returned to Feldcroft, the golden light of evening casting long shadows across the village. Sebastian busied himself in the kitchen, chopping vegetables and checking the roast he’d put in the oven earlier, while Evangeline sat quietly at the table, her fingers idly tracing the wood grain.

The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly, but it was heavy, filled with everything they weren’t saying. Sebastian focused on the rhythm of his knife against the cutting board, the soft clink of dishes as he prepared their meal. It was easier to lose himself in the familiar motions than to confront the knot of emotions twisting in his chest.

Finally, Evangeline broke the quiet, her voice soft but steady. “Where did we leave off?”

Sebastian glanced over his shoulder, frowning slightly. “Leave off?”

“In Mansfield Park,” she clarified, tilting her head as she watched him. “I fell asleep."

He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he set the knife down. “Right. I barely made it through a chapter.”

Evangeline’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Then you’ll have to catch me up,” she said, leaning back in her chair with an air of expectation. “Wouldn’t want me missing any crucial moments.”

Sebastian wiped his hands on a dish towel, his expression caught between amusement and exasperation. “You’re really going to make me do this, aren’t you?”

She shrugged, her smile widening slightly. "After dinner, yes. Speaking of, you need any help?"

Sebastian shook his head, waving a dismissive hand. “No, no, I’ve got it. You’ve been on your feet enough today. Just sit back and relax.”

Evangeline raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “Relax? You mean sit here and watch you wield that knife? No thanks.”

He smirked, turning back to the cutting board. “I’m perfectly capable, Evie.”

“I'm sure you are,” she replied lightly, standing and crossing the small kitchen to his side. “But I also happen to know you have a habit of biting off more than you can chew."

Sebastian rolled his eyes but didn’t stop her as she slipped past him to grab an apron from the hook by the pantry. She tied it around her waist with practiced ease, shooting him a pointed look. “So, what can I do?”

“You can sit back down like I said,” he replied, only half-serious as he chopped a carrot with exaggerated precision. “Dinner’s practically done anyway.”

Evangeline tilted her head, her eyes narrowing in playful skepticism. “Practically done, huh? And yet you’re still chopping vegetables like your life depends on it.”

He paused, glancing at the array of ingredients he’d half-prepared. She wasn’t wrong.

“Alright, fine,” he relented, stepping aside with a dramatic sigh. “Since you’re so eager, you can finish the carrots. But don’t blame me if you regret volunteering.”

Evangeline grinned, stepping up to the counter and taking the knife from him. She tested its weight with a flick of her wrist before resuming his chopping, her movements quick and confident.

Sebastian leaned against the counter, watching her with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. “You’ve done this before.”

She smirked, not looking up. “What gave it away? The part where I didn’t cut my fingers off?”

“Well, yeah,” he said, crossing his arms. “But also the speed. You’re better at this than I am.”

“Not surprising,” she replied casually, her tone teasing. “I grew up in the Muggle world, remember? No house-elves to do the cooking for us.”

Sebastian tilted his head, studying her as she worked. “I never thought about that. So, what? You cooked all the time?”

“Not all the time,” she said with a shrug. “But the orphanage wasn’t exactly overflowing with staff. If you wanted something more than bland stew, you learned how to make it yourself.”

Her tone was light, but Sebastian caught the faint edge of something unspoken in her words. He didn’t press, instead focusing on the way her hands moved with practiced ease, turning the once-messy pile of vegetables into neat, even slices.

“Alright,” he said after a moment, a grin tugging at his lips. “You win. You’re officially better in the kitchen.”

Evangeline laughed softly, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “Don’t sound so surprised. I’m good at lots of things.”

“Believe me, I’ve noticed,” he replied, his grin softening into something warmer.

They finished preparing the meal together, falling into an easy rhythm as they moved around the small kitchen. And by the time they sat down to eat, the earlier tension was gone.

The meal was simple—a small roast with freshly sautéed vegetables—but they really didn't need much, especially after their earlier feast at the café. They kept the conversation light, trading stories about their summer adventures and laughing at the ridiculous antics of their mutual friends.

When the plates were cleared and the kitchen tidied, Evangeline leaned against the counter, her arms crossed as she regarded him with a thoughtful expression. “So,” she said, tilting her head. “Are you going to keep your promise?”

Sebastian frowned, confused. “Promise?”

“To catch me up on Mansfield Park,” she clarified, her lips curving into a small smile. “Or were you planning on backing out?”

He chuckled, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “I wouldn’t dare.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Good. Then let’s go outside.”

Sebastian blinked, “Outside?”

She nodded, pushing off the counter and heading toward the back door. “It’s a nice evening,” she said, glancing over her shoulder with a teasing smile. “Unless you’re too delicate to read by moonlight.”

Sebastian let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as he followed her. “Alright, alright. But if I'm eaten by mosquitos, you’re to blame.”

Evangeline stepped out into the night, the cool evening air brushing against her skin. The stars were just beginning to emerge, their faint glow scattered across the darkening sky. She led him into the field stretching beyond the cottage, silently casting lumos to light the way.

Sebastian followed close behind as the wildflowers swayed gently in the breeze, their colors muted in the silvery light of the rising moon. The warmth of the day had given way to the cool, crisp embrace of evening, and the air smelled faintly of grass and distant woodsmoke.

“Here,” Evangeline said softly, stopping at a small rise in the field. “This is perfect.”

Sebastian glanced around. The spot she’d chosen offered a clear view of the stars, the endless expanse of the night sky stretching above them like a tapestry.

“You’ve got an eye for scenery, I’ll give you that.”

Evangeline lowered herself onto the soft grass, her dress pooling around her as she leaned back on her hands. “It’s not exactly a cozy armchair by the fire,” she admitted, tilting her head to gaze up at the sky. “But it’s nice, isn’t it?”

Sebastian sat beside her, stretching out his legs and setting the book down between them. “It is,” he agreed, his voice quiet as he followed her gaze. “Though I still maintain the mosquitos are out to get me.”

She laughed softly, the sound warm and melodic in the stillness. “You’ll survive,” she teased. “And if not, I promise to avenge you.”

He chuckled, reaching for the book and flipping to the marked page. “Alright. Let’s see where we left off.”

Evangeline smiled, shifting slightly to lean against his shoulder. The motion was casual, unthinking, but it sent a jolt through Sebastian that he hoped didn’t show. He adjusted the book in his hands, clearing his throat as he began to read.

His voice was steady and low, weaving the words into the quiet night. Evangeline listened intently, her eyes drifting closed every so often as she allowed the story to wash over her.

Occasionally, she would comment, her voice soft and teasing, poking fun at a particular line or offering her opinion on a character’s decisions. Sebastian would respond in kind, his quips earning quiet laughter that made his chest tighten in ways he couldn’t quite name.

As the night deepened, the words began to blur together, their cadence slower and softer as Sebastian’s voice grew quieter. He wasn't sure when they'd laid down on their backs, or when Evie had extinguished the glow of her wand as they looked up at the sky, but Sebastian found himself stretched out beside her, the book forgotten on the grass between them.

Evangeline’s voice broke the quiet, soft and thoughtful. “It’s strange, isn’t it?”

Sebastian turned his head slightly, glancing at her. “What is?”

Her hazel eyes remained fixed on the stars, their faint glow reflecting in her gaze. “How small we are,” she murmured. “How the world feels so big and endless until you’re lying here, looking up at… all of this.”

Sebastian followed her gaze. He wasn’t often struck by the enormity of the universe—his thoughts had a way of staying locked firmly in the present, on the people and problems closest to him. But now, with Evangeline beside him, he felt the weight of her words settle deep in his chest.

“Getting a bit philosophical on me, eh Sterling?"

Evangeline smiled faintly, her gaze still fixed on the stars. “Moments like this… they make you think. Or maybe they make you feel too much. I’m not sure which.”

Sebastian’s gaze drifted from the stars to Evangeline’s profile, unable to resist the pull of the soft curve of her cheek, the way the moonlight kissed her skin, and the delicate line of her jaw. Her hair spilled across the grass, a dark curtain catching faint silver threads under the night sky. She looked serene, thoughtful, untouchably beautiful in a way that made his chest ache.

She wasn’t the same girl he’d met in two years ago, scrappy and sharp-tongued, too fierce for her size, though he lover her too. Somewhere along the way, she had grown up, grown into someone with a quiet strength and a beauty that left him undone. She wasn’t just Evie, his friend, his confidante. She was…

Merlin help him.

As if sensing the weight of his gaze, Evangeline turned her head, her eyes catching his. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the world narrowing to the space between them. Her lips parted slightly, and Sebastian saw the faintest flicker of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Caught you,” she said softly, her voice teasing but gentle.

Sebastian floundered, his mouth opening and closing uselessly. Her soft laugh broke the tension, and she shook her head, her gaze drifting back to the stars.

“Relax, Sebastian,” she murmured.

She sounded casual, but the tension lingering in the air told a different story. Sebastian couldn’t look away, his heart pounding as he watched the faint flush that spread across her cheeks.

For a moment, he thought he saw something in her eyes—a flicker of vulnerability, of curiosity, as though she were daring him to close the distance between them. His chest tightened, his mind spinning with the possibilities of what might happen if he leaned in, if he just…

But then Evangeline let out a soft laugh, breaking the spell. “You’ve got that look,” she teased, her tone light. “The one you get when you’re overthinking something.”

Sebastian forced a chuckle, raking a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, you know me. Always thinking too much. Or not enough.”

Her lips quirked into a small smile, and she rolled onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow to face him. "So what is it this time?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but the words tangled in his throat, refusing to cooperate. How could he even begin to explain the tangle of emotions he was feeling? How could he put into words the way she made him feel—how the very thought of her was both a comfort and a torment?

Instead, he shook his head with a lopsided grin, defaulting to humor to shield himself. “Oh, you know, just thinking that you're hogging the better angle for the stars."

Evangeline narrowed her eyes, her lips twitching into a knowing smirk. “Hogging the better angle for the stars?” she repeated, her tone dripping with skepticism. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

Sebastian shrugged, his grin widening as he leaned back onto the grass. “What can I say? You’re very inconsiderate when it comes to stargazing placement.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t press further. Instead, she lay back down, her gaze drifting to the sky again. The quiet returned, stretching between them, and Sebastian was just starting to relax when he felt her shift slightly closer. He tensed, the subtle movement catching him off guard. The warmth of her presence brushed against his side, and before he could process what was happening, her hand reached for his. She brushed his palm lightly, hesitant yet deliberate, before lacing their fingers together.

“Your hands are cold,” she murmured softly, her voice so quiet it almost got lost in the rustle of the grass around them.

Sebastian chuckled faintly, trying to steady his pounding heart. “Well, you’re the one who grabbed it. Don’t complain now.”

Evangeline tilted her head slightly, a playful glint in her eyes as she glanced at him. “I’m not complaining,” she said simply, her tone lighter now. “Just an observation.”

Her hands were smaller than his, and impossibly soft, a stark contrast to the sharp edges of his own. It made no sense, really. She’d spent just as many hours clutching her wand, casting spells, and facing danger, yet her hands were untouched by the wear of it all.

“You’re quiet,” Evangeline said softly, breaking the silence.

He turned his head toward her, their faces closer now than he’d realized. “Just… thinking.”

Her lips curved into a faint smile. “More star angles?”

Sebastian huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Not this time.”

"Then what?"

Sebastian swallowed, his heart heavy with thoughts he couldn’t voice. The memory of the party loomed like a shadow over this perfect moment, a bitter reminder of his mistakes. He thought about how Evangeline had clung to him that night, the trust in her eyes as if he was her anchor. And yet, he’d left her.

Left her for Abigail.

The memory of that drunken, thoughtless kiss was blurry at best, and even in the haze of it, he couldn’t conjure any meaning. What he could remember clearly, though, was the fallout. His brilliant plan—or lack thereof—had been to act like it didn’t matter. Like if he carried on as if nothing had happened, the rumors swirling through the school would simply burn out.

It had been selfish. Stupid. He’d allowed himself to be seen around the castle with Abigail, as though he had something to prove, as though flaunting indifference would somehow mend the cracks. Instead, it had only driven the knife deeper.

And yet, he’d done it anyway.

He thought about that night by the Black Lake, where the soft lap of water against the shore had been the only sound between them. He’d stumbled through an apology, the words tumbling out unevenly. He’d tried—tried so desperately—to explain himself, to make her see that what had happened meant nothing, that the last thing he ever wanted was to hurt her.

But he’d stopped short of the full truth. He hadn’t told her the thing that haunted him most, the thing that clawed at his chest every time he saw her—the truth that he was utterly, hopelessly in love with her.

It wasn’t just love in the way people usually spoke of it. It wasn’t gentle or measured, something that grew quietly over time. No, this was all-consuming, an all-encompassing force that made him feel both weightless and chained. It terrified him—how deeply it rooted itself in his soul, how it left no part of him untouched. He loved her fiercely, painfully, in a way that felt as though it might tear him apart if he kept it hidden for much longer.

And now, as she lay beside him, her hand soft in his, waiting for whatever answer he’d give, the weight of his silence grew. He thought about telling her—about finally letting those three small, monumental words tumble free from where they’d lived on the edge of his tongue for years. He thought about how good it would feel to let her know, to stop hiding what had always been written so plainly in the way he looked at her.

But then he thought about today. The way she’d made those comments this morning over tea, not-so-subtle jabs he fully deserved. The way her expression had tightened when Abigail passed by the cafe, like a wound reopening despite her efforts to mask it. The way she’d told him she needed time.

Time.

She’d been clear, and he couldn’t take that from her. He couldn’t heap his feelings onto her now, when she deserved the space to decide for herself what she wanted—without guilt, without obligation.

So he swallowed the truth once more, compressing it into something smaller, safer. Something that wouldn’t burden her.

“You mean a lot to me, Evangeline,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. “Everything to me, really."

Evangeline didn’t respond as she turned her head toward him, her eyes meeting his, and for a moment, Sebastian thought he might have said too much—or maybe not enough. Her gaze searched his face, steady and unflinching, as though she were trying to read the unspoken things he couldn’t quite bring himself to say.

“...everything?" She repeated softly.

Sebastian swallowed hard, his fingers tightening instinctively around hers. The urge to tell her everything—to spill the entirety of his heart at her feet—burned fiercely in his chest. But he couldn’t. Not when she’d only just begun to let him in again.

Still, he couldn’t lie to her.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Everything.”

Evangeline’s expression softened, her lips parting slightly as she absorbed his words. For a moment, it looked like she might say something—something he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear. Her hazel eyes flickered with something unreadable, something caught between disbelief and longing.

“Sebastian,” she started, her voice barely audible. Her fingers curled tighter around his, as if steadying herself for what came next. “You…” She trailed off, her gaze dropping to their joined hands as she let out a soft, almost nervous laugh. “You always have a way of saying things that make it hard to think straight.”

Sebastian’s heart twisted, unsure whether to feel disappointed, relieved, or smug at her words. She hadn’t said what he secretly hoped for—but she hadn’t pulled away, either. Instead, she held onto him, her fingers laced tightly with his as though she couldn’t let go, even if she tried.

He let out a soft laugh, a sound caught somewhere between amusement and nervousness. “Well, I aim to leave a lasting impression,” he said, “Even if it means I’m just making you dizzy.”

“Dizzy doesn’t even begin to cover it,” she murmured, her voice so quiet it felt like a secret meant only for him.

His chest tightened, the confession—small as it was—sending a wave of warmth through him. Did she realize what she was saying? Did she know what her words did to him, how they made him feel like he was teetering on the edge of something he both craved and feared?

He wanted to say so much more—to tell her that she wasn’t the only one who felt dizzy, that she had a way of making the ground beneath him feel unsteady in the best way. But he couldn’t find the words, couldn’t figure out how to say what he meant without risking too much.

“Well,” she said softly, breaking the moment as she let go of his hand and sat up. The warmth of her touch faded too quickly, leaving his palm cold in the evening air. “We should probably head back in. The dew’s starting to seep through my dress.”

Sebastian blinked, startled by the sudden shift, and scrambled to sit up beside her. The spell of the moment had shattered, leaving him feeling oddly untethered, like something important had slipped through his fingers. “Oh, right,” he said quickly, brushing his hands on his trousers to keep them busy. “Can’t have you catching a chill."

Sebastian rose to his feet, picking up the forgotten book and tucking it under his arm before following her back towards his cottage, his mind spinning with everything left unsaid.

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

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Gryffindor Divider Credit

[vinetae]

As If It's His Last - PJM

"Mmmm, you're such a sensitive baby, aren't you?"

Genre: FWB, F2L, Smut, mutual pinning?

Summary: it had been a simple agreement. You felt bad at how many times Jimin had a hectic schedule. And while you couldn't do anything about that, you could offer some services out of pity for the boy..

Warnings: shower sex, vaginal fingering, Dom!Jimin, bratty sub!Reader, shower games, cunillingus, spanking? Jimin's such a tease lol, unprotected sex (don't do this), best friend banter while fucking (and damn, do we love that), cursing, foul language.

Word Count: 4K

A/n: just some drabbles I forgot to post like a year ago. 💀🙏😭 This was heavily inspired by my simp ass and the vlive where jimin wished someone would wash him LMFAO.

Edit: welcome back, you horny bitches. I've updated this to conclude their FULL SMUT. So, happy early birthday 💀😭

_______

"I'll do it" you comment, as he sits up to counter your straight face. His eyebrows lift, a shocked expression plastered his features.

"You what?" He asks, not truly comprehending what his friend had just agreed to.

"I'll wash you if you want."

He laughs out loud at the seemingly meaningless joke. His chest rises in sharp points, as his joking reaction makes your face remain unchanged. He'd been complaining for around an hour, seeing how long he could go without a shower after coming back from a hard session's practice. He'd always procrastinate washing himself, but never excused his hygiene.

Ironically, he was possibly the most clean person you've ever known. He always loved dousing himself in expensive perfumes, a 10-step skincare, and brushing his teeth for not 3 but FOUR minutes, twice a day. If you hadn't known better, you might've mistook him for a germaphobe. Once you had seen his apartment for the first time, you'd quickly realized your accusations were limited to what everyone say everyday.

"Are you for real?" He questions, not believing that his friend of only a few months would help him with something so intimate that ESPECIALLY only couples would do.

However, you were just a good friend.

You slide the cover of your book down your thighs, sighing at his thick head.

"Seriously Jimin? You just spent almost an hour debating whether showering in the morning or afternoon is healthier. You KNOW you only did that so you could excuse your laziness." His eyes widen at your words, but he doesn't deny it.

"But... Are you sure? I mean we've only known each other for a few months And-" you stand, glancing at his slouched figure.

"It's an offer, not a request. You want help, and I like helping people. Plus, it'll give me practice for when I volunteer at the senior citizen home." You tease flashing him a cheeky grin, as he stands, yelling to protest.

"Hey! Don't call me old!" You laugh at his cute pout. He watches as the sway of your hips lure him to the frame that connect the hallway to bathroom. He can feel the dryness of his throat out run the natural portion. Your upper body turns to graze his eyes, a tiny, sultry grin tugs your cornered lip.

"Coming?"

..

His eyes trail on the curves of your frame as you remove rhe excess pieces that had hidden your goddess-like figure so well. His tongue sticks out to wet the pad of his lips, making the plump set glisten. His gesture doesn't go unnoticed for you as well. You bat the thick of your eyelashes, while slowly removing the last article of clothing, sending him a greasy smirk.

"Yah, this ain't a free strip club." You point to the shower, watching the gears in his head finally turning to your command. This time, it's your turn to oogle at his built figure. The sweat glistens off his proportioned figure, sliding down the muscles of his arms. The veins in his hands track all the way to his protruding Adam's apple, watching it Bob up and down once before he removes another piece of his clothing.

Soon, he's left in nothing bit tight clad briefs, the Chanel red and white stripped label hugs his lower waist oh so perfectly. His lips tug into a smirk nothing how you'd been caught on his waist for one second too long. He curves his thumb to tug the elastic of his briefs down, giving you a teasing peak of his prominent v-line. He watches your cheek indent quickly, knowing that you'd bitten the inside harshly.

You shake your head to rid yourself of the impure images that had Corrupted your mind for a few moments. You meet his gaze, before motioning to the shower. He chuckles, noticing the tint of your ears matching hues with your cheeks. He stalks your figure, closing the small space that had separated the two of you, and sane from insanity.

"Aren't you going to get wet too?" His thumb comes to lift the point of your chin, narrowed eyes dark chocolate and fiery, baring down into your doe-like irises. His fingers come to toy with the elastic of your bra, before releasing it as it snaps against your skin. You flinch at the sudden act, the lump in your throat doesn't seem to faulted in rendering you speechless. His breath rolls past the shell of your ear, brushing the side of your cheek smoothly.

"No? Because.."

His steps corner you into the steamy shower until you're pressed up against the tiled wall. His eyes peer into yours, hands come up to already palm the rounds of your breasts pulling the thin fabric down to toy with the erect buds.

"I think you already are."

You'd gone into this situation with tact and though-filled head. Now, your girly brain had been boiling on the stove labeled horny, with your pussy as the chef, and Jimin being the heat.

Weird analogy I know, but still.

It's true.

The inside of his palm comes up to trace along the heated outline of your figure. His smirk beaming wider than a turn an eighteen-wheeler has to make.

"So quiet now, huh?" Your brain had almost been fried by his lingering touches, when a sense of well.. sensibility washes over you. Suddenly, you had regained your voice.

"You keep this up and you'll be stuck with blue balls AND a lonely wash up." Your tone seeps into his brain, pushing past all of the aroused and biological thoughts that had clouded his mind. He pouts, but backs away, giving you space as you repremand his ass.

Once his lecture was over, you watched as he lowered himself into the tub's heated waters, watching as his face immidiently forms new expressions. Most had remained relaxed, but one still stood out to you.

The steam had now risen to damp the ends of his hair, making the baby strands cling to his forehead. His newly dyed locks had blocked a portion of his view. You smile, bringing your hand up to brush the straggles out of his way. Much like how a mother's caring touch would be. He sighs, unconsiously leaning into your touch. You'd pulled your hand a few centimeters away right before his selfish, naughty hands had brought them right back down, pressing your palms against his reddened cheek.

"Just... stay like this, please?" He whines softly, not wanting to release from the comforting touch of your hands. You sigh, shifting on the tub's edge before finding an okay position. His eyes lull closed, peaking open once a while to make sure that you hadn't left him.

Your chin rests on tub's edge, watching how his facial features sink more into a relaxed transe. Finally, he felt at peace.

Except the hardening of his cock under the soapy waters.

He groans, trying to push those thoughts away, know that you hadn't been in that kind of mood right now.

You had usually flirted back and countered his sweet-comments and teases, a grin of your own painting your expressions while you two laughed, ending the silly encounter each time. Your laugh lines had been his serotonin. He'd never openly admit this.. of course.

But those sweet-nothings were for a different time, told to him by his stirring cock. Thankfully, the lavander and vanilla bath bomb you'd decided to throw in last minute had dissloved into a perfect shield for his dick.

Though the wet patches along your skin had done the opposite.

He peaks his eyes open, watching as the water shines an almost like glitter effect on the surface of your skin. With each splotch of water had been followed by clear definitions of it's gleams.

Yep... there goes his thoughts again.

"Y/n.." He gently calls out, seeing if you'd react with the same tone as earlier. He looks to see that your face had softened, showing him a more caring side than before. Usually, you had been this strong, confident and stubborn woman he'd grown to love. But how the way your rosy cheeks matched his set from the steamy waters had painted a different picture for him.

It also didn't help that you were in the most basic, but sexiest pair of underwear and bra he'd ever seen.

Sure, he's seen the lace, the frills, satin, silks and more.

Maybe it's his crazy, sex-driven mind..

But you looked like the most beautiful thing in the world.

Hell, this feeling wasn't even that sexual.

It had always been with him.

Since the day you two had meet in that cafe.

His voice calls out again, watching as your nose scrunches from the louder volume, but yet still having that gentle and warming tone he'd always carry.

You hum in response, not really minding what he was going to go on about. Sure you cared but..

This water had also felt too good to pass up.

So you opted for dragging your finger tips across it's fluctuate surface, watching as your minimal movements had trailed behind light ripples in their place. Your digits dip down ever so often, relaxing at the bath water's warm embrace.

This time, you hear your name for the third time.

You sigh, glancing to pull your eyes from the peaceful streams, to his boyish look.

Except...

He hadn't looked boyish at all.

The prominent lines of his muscle protruded far more than you could've ever imagned. His upper porportion had broad shoulders, defined and calculated features that would make any female instantly swoon.

"How are you going to wash me if I'm in here, and you're out there." His chin comes to rest on the tub's edge in front of you, mimicking your position with a smile painting his features.

You sigh, trying to hide the obvious smile that had accidentally slipped from your control.

"Fine," You fake a groan, acting as if your mother asking you to take out the trash. You see his lips pucker to a cute, puppy-like pout.

"You offered, you know.." You nod, removing your last pieces of clothing before stepping into the water's steamy embrace. The tub hadn't been that large, so you had to really squeeze to fit the both of you. Somehow, he manage to scoot closer, a gleam so warm and inviting lays beneath his cold, matured exterior.

He rests of the point of his chin on the round of his knees, pulling them closer to his chest, as you had done the same. That earns you a laugh from his side.

"Two bros, chilling in a bath tub two feet apart cause they're not gay." You laugh at the stupid reference, hitting his shoulder lightly. "You're ridiculous."

As your smiles recceed, something had taken their place. Even though both sets of tucked legs had been the barrier between the two of you, it didn't stop the lack of space slowly disappearing at the held gaze you both had in your eyes.

Your lips barely just centimeters away, as his hand comes up to cup the round of your cheek, his voice lowering to a permissive octave.

"You know, that trend of Tik Tok has been going around lately." You chuckle at his random response.

"Which one? There are about a gazillion.."

he leans in closer, brushing the pads of his lips against yours, giving you just a slight taste of what he's offering.

"The one where you kiss your best friend."

You lightly scoff at his comment.

He can't be serious.

.. Can he?

One more lessened inch was all it took for his lips to capture yours. The kiss had been gentle and kind at first, until something primal and needy had taken the reigns. His breath became heavy, the sounds he started to let slip had been doing a number on your sensability.

Just before anything gets too heavy, he quickly pulls away, leaving a trail of saliva bridging between his and your lips.

"I- want to make sure that you're okay.." You're quick to nod, trying to rekindle the fire he had you desiring so, but he takes control once more.

"I need verbal confirmation, Y/n. I don't want to make it feel like I'm forcing you or anythi-" He's cut off by the pressure of your lips crashing onto his.

Once you're through, it's your turn to pull away, leaving him in need.

"Permission granted.." Those few words had all it took for his lips to finally connect with your once more, this time with a firey and passionate seer of affection attached along with it. His hands are quick to unfold your body, pulling to straddle his lap. The already lack of any attire had been teasing enough, as the butterflies flying around in your stomach had been inexorable. Your confidentials meeting to grind against one another, the length of his cock gliding easily through your folds. His head draws back, groaning at the delightful feeling.

"Are we..." He takes in a few breaths, trying to make sense of this situation for what's best for the both of you.

"Are we sure this is a good place for our first?" You take a look around, thinking logically on how this could go. Your faces scrunches at the idea.

"Shower then?" Your comment had him rising quicker than his dick did, pulling you along up with him before he's pressing your back up against the tiled shower's wall. His palms coming to cup the rounds of your breasts, tweaking your nipples gently to see your reaction.

Not to his surprised, you'd moaned.

Quite loudly in fact.

Your head lulls against the shower's walls, while his smirk creeps his face.

"Didn't know you had that in you.." He groans, free hand reaching behind to pull your ass tighter against his frame, giving the rounded flesh some gentle squeezes.

"What do you mean, in me?" Your head follows the trail of kisses his lips had placed upon your exposed upper half, watching the glint in his eyes each time he notice your body flinching at the light grazes.

"Mmmm, you're such a sensitive baby, aren't you?" Your lips part, mouth dropping down to form a long O-shape. The digits of his fingers trail down your torso, brushing along the dip of your navel before slipping between your thighs. Your hands reach out to wrap themselves around his neck, while your palm moves the strands out from his view.

His long digits drew light circles into your hooded bud, as your back arches against the tiled wall. Your sounds are the only confirmation he needed to continue on his exploration.

"Hmm, you know I've always wondered something.." His tone is teasing, with a hint of malicious .. something.. behind it.

There was deffiantly more than this sweet cinnamon personality.

You scoff at his retort, feeling the way our leg twitches from the small amount of pleasure you'd reccived.

"I've always wanted to know.." You felt the sting of his finger pushing its way up into you, sliding easily past your folds, as the sounds it had drawn out were immaculate to his ears.

"If my accusations were correct." You groan out, not knowing a damn about what he had been going on with, but knowing damn well how it felt.

You chuckle at his words. "Yeah? What accusations?"

A smirk plasters his face.

"Oh, you know.. Just some things that have popped into my head.." His head's quick to find it's way down your body, as his face had been at direct level with your sobbing core. Your breath hitched at the sight.

"About how much pressure it would take for you to squeeze me with the fucking thighs until my head popped like a balloon.." His words cut like a knife dragging along your skin. His hand comes up, spreading your lips apart to reveal all of your shameful glory.

"How pretty this pussy would look all wet and needy for me." He removes all pressure, licking a stripe up the very center as your head lulls back, fist full of his hair quickly fill your balled hands.

"How loud you can scream my name."

Your hands ball ever more at his sudden words, as he takes the plump of his lips, wrapping them around your throbbing clit as a whole new world of this shit had just been unlocked for you like a fucking video game. He reaches up, pulling one of your thighs over his shoulder, burying the face even deep into your aching pussy, watching as the tip of his nose kisses your public bone.

Sounds of pleasure and nothing more had filled the dorm's shower room, as your best friend had been on his knees, acting like your pussy had been his favorite meal.

His palms grip at your thighs, feeling the soft pudgy goodness engulf his head even more.

Your head lulled back, thighs quivering around his head. Hands coming to grip at his damp roots, mouth jarring wide as he practically recites every letter from the alphabet.

You certainly hadn't planned for this to happen with your best friend. But hey,

Was this really a time to complain?

"Fu-fucking- Oh shit!" The burn you felt between your thighs had nothing on Jimin's teeth biting down into the side of your neck. His hips rolled against your body, as his arm kept your thigh proped up and open for his liking.

The pad of his lips switching between sucking and marking your damp skin, hot water steaming down onto the both of you. Your fingers tugged at his newly dyed roots,mouth parting as his cock slides against your walls.

"So fucking good for me, baby. Taking my cock so well." Your head lulls back, chest heaving in agony. His hips snapped against yours, as his hand helds you at the sides to keep you in place.

"O-oh my God.." You whine, unconsciously lifting your other leg to try and wrap yourself fully around his waist. A chuckle rolls from his lips, before he gently pulls out, making you whine from loss of contact.

In a matter of seconds, he has you sat on his lap, as he's resting on the shower stools surface. Wasn't the series position, but hey. You weren't one to complain.

"And here I thought Jin's old man stool was useless." He retorts, guiding your hips to sink down onto his standing cock. Your hands use the crease of his shoulders in balancing, as your let out a short laugh.

"Oh so now I have to do all the work?"

A smirk presses his lips, as his mouth reaches out to suck dark blotches into the skin of your collarbone. "Be a good girl and maybe it'll be worth your while."

Your heart sank at his words.

"Fuck you for being my friend."

"Why? Cause I'm so awesome at it?"

"No." You groan, taking a big gulp of air from the steam of the shower. "C-Cause you fucking know me too well."

He chuckles, gently guiding your hips along the length of his cock, your legs hugged to his sides in support of the painful position.

"Oh, im sorry for being such a good friend." Smirking, his hand comes to cup your breast, tweaking the erect bud between his two fingers. He watches as your lips drop to part in pleasure, leaning your body closer to his. The moment had been arrogant, and annoying, but most of all..

Amazing.

"mm- s-still fuck you." You moan out, body presses against his, in support. The burning of your thighs had been overpowering your motives to continue, as you let out a whine.

"Yeah yeah, yoy know you love it." Your pussy cleched around his cock, making your head fall onto his shoulder. His praises pulling you into a daze you'd never felt before. Nails digging into his glistening skin, the shower mixed along with your sweat at done nothing in making this scene any less arousing.

He lets out a soft chuckle, bringing his arms up to hold your body to his, making sure your fucked out state doesn't injure yourself.

His lips hover gently infront of yours, brushing a string of wet hair from your view.

"Weak." He teases.

You lift your arm, punching his side gently. His chest rolls out a soft laugh,hoisting your waist to press against his.

"Yah, are you really trying to sleep when we're having sex?"

Your head shakes, forehead pressed into his shoulder dip. "Fucking burns.."

"Ah, yeah I know. It's pretty big."

You lift up, playfully hitting his chest once more from his comment.

"Alright alright. Jeez, making the man do all the work as usual, huh?" He's quick to lift your body from his, pressing you back against the shower wall, easily sliding his cock through your velvety walls once more. Your arms throw themselves around his neck, head craning backwards as your back arches off against the wall. He scoffs, rolling his hips into yours. His finger coming up to poke your cheek.

"Faker."

A smile presses your lips, closing the distance between the two of you. Hands carding through his damp locks, as the shower's hot pressure drips along both of your skin.

Your eyes screwed shut, sucking in a breath. "F-fuck i-i'm-" His lips capture yours once more, as the tip of his index finger reaches down, rubbing circles against your throbbing clit.

"Yeahh, cum for me, jagi. Let all the guys know who's fucking you this good." Your head knocks back against the marbled shower wall, thighs twitching in his grip as a wave of pleasure crashes in to you. He moans out, feeling the way you clamp down on his when your orgasm hits.

"Oh, yeahhh! That's my good girl. Such a good baby for me- fuck!" With one final thrust, the tip of his cock kisses your cervix as he paints your walls white. You both pull away slightly, trying to catch your breaths. The hot shower water had done nothing in cooling the two of you down.

After a few moments drip by, Jimin lifts his head to look at you. A smirk presses his lips, as he pulls your figure back against his to make the two of your stand under the shower's rainfall like pressure.

"Looks like you're the one who needs a wash off now.."

You chuckle, cupping the side of his face in your palms, placing a gentle peck to his lips. His hands come to hold your waist, returning the cute gesture.

_______

Holy shit I'm finding so many unpublished drafts..

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

Hello bestie I am ur local simp, and i am on my knees begging for HCs of the greasers dancing with you in the kitchen, my preferences are Darry and Steve i am begging

A/N: Hey there! Thanks for requesting, I hope you don’t mind the wait. They’re a little short, but I hope you enjoy them!!

DARRY CURTIS

You wanna dance? In the kitchen? With Darry?

Oh honey, that’s nothing new, my boy loves to dance with you, especially during those quiet moments in the kitchen <3

Whether it’s in the morning where one of you’s fixing breakfast, or in the evenings when dinner’s been tucked into the oven and you have nothing else to do, Darry will definitely dance with you

He likes any of the slow songs that mean he can hold you close, tucking you into his body as you sway back and forth together and looking into your eyes, those little conversations filled with sweet nothings   

SODAPOP CURTIS

 Yes! I cannot stress this enough, Sodapop loves to dance and would give anything to dance with you

Your dancing is not limited to the kitchen! He’ll dance with you wherever, spinning you around at the drive-in or teaching you a few moves at a diner somewhere while the jukebox plays

He’ll slow dance? But he’d rather more upbeat dances, just cause he’s so energetic

But he’ll take the excuse to hold you close, kiss you gently and smile that smile that totally knocks you off your feet     

PONYBOY CURTIS

I love Ponyoby with all my heart, but you can’t look at the boy and convince me that he doesn’t have two left feet

Like, I just know that both of his brothers and his mom did everything they could to try and fix that problem but it’s entirely unsuccessful

Plus? He gives wallflower vibes, so I don’t think dancing would exactly be his cup of tea especially not out on some diner floor or school dance, I can totally see him standing by the walls with a cup of that terrible punch and one of Soda’s ties around his neck

Having said that, I think he’d make an effort if dancing was important to you, like he’d offer to take you dancing and spin you around every once in a while 

DALLAS WINSTON

The kitchen? Maybe not, Dallas really doesn’t have access to a kitchen that isn’t Buck’s little half-kitchen or the Curtis’ so maybe not the kitchen specifically 

But dancing with you at Buck’s is definitely doable, especially if Dal has a few in his system or it’s not too crowded

Also a firm believer that Dallas has two left feet but it’s not as bad as Ponyboy and he can definitely do a little two-step and shuffle with you

He likes dancing with you because he likes having his hands on your waist, letting them drift as low as he can get away with to then bring you closer for a kiss at the end of the song

JOHNNY CADE

I see dancing with Johnny as like a soft and intimate thing?

So like, just the two of you, spinning and goofing around together when you go out or something, dancing to the Curtis’ radio in their kitchen and stuff

That’s not to say that he won’t dance with you to whatever song is playing over the speakers at the drive-in or to what the jukebox in the corner of the diner is playing, it’s just a lot less likely

But, if you beg and plead and kiss him just enough, I’ll guarantee that Johnny will dance with you, 1000%

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

Anywhere and anytime baby, Two-Bit is always going to be more than willing to dance with you

I’m not even joking, literally just say the word and Two will be tripping over his own feet to dance with you, he’s so excited <3

He has absolutely no shame when it comes to humiliating himself in public and I think a part of that factors into his dancing, he doesn’t care who catches you dancing and where you dance 

So yes to the drive-in, yes to the diner, yes to whatever bar you may find yourself in on a date night, and a definite yes to dancing with you in the kitchen

STEVE RANDLE

I don’t know why, but I just feel like Steve would definitely dance with you, no questions whatsoever

I can just see him pulling you in for a quick little two-step whenever you stop by to see him at the DX, claiming that the song that started on the radio just has to be danced to as he pulls you in

Slow songs, fast songs, I just think he’d have a lot of fun dancing with you, no matter what!

And if you don’t think you’re a good enough dancer, don’t even worry about it, Steve’s not going to care and he’ll make you laugh so hard while you’re together that you won’t have time to stress about it   

TIM SHEPARD

Soooooo I have a lot of thoughts when it comes to this greaser and one of the biggest one is how much fun he’d be to dance with-

He’s good at everything, even though he doesn’t look the type to be spinning around on some dance floor, he’s just got some sort of natural talent that makes him look astounding on the floor

Lines dances to slow dances and everything in between, Tim will have no problem dancing with you, especially after he’s had a few drinks and is feeling more laid-back

His hands might drift a little lower than your hips at times, but what else do you expect? He’s a hood! Besides, when you go to chastise him or move his hands, he’ll just give you this little smirk and how could you possibly be mad at that face?

CURLY SHEPARD

Unless he’s in a space where he feels comfortable, I don’t see Curly as someone who would frequent the dancefloor, it’s just not his space

He can do the dances? Would be down to goof off with you when it’s just the two of you? But he’s not big into the dance floor

Kitchen dancing though, that’s really his element and he’ll spin you around so gently, murmuring the lyrics to whatever song is playing while pressing kisses to where is closest to his mouth

10/10 experience, would highly recommend dancing with Curly as you’d feel so adored and appreciated!

[nikosama13]

Dance with me! (Zoro x FemReader)

Description: The Straw Hats were visiting your town on an island! Luffy was of course drawn in by a festival for some holiday going on. While Nami and Robin were probably window shopping with Sanji who is simping as their “bodyguard” and the rest of the crew was just partying… that just left Zoro to stand alone.. until you show up.

Side Notes: Hello loves! This is my first fanfic so please go easy on me (ಥ﹏ಥ). It’s gonna be super short because this is kind of like a test run (may be continued).

~~~

The Straw Hats were in a rather large and festive tavern, on an island they were stopping on… it was some sort of holiday, so Luffy was obviously drawn in by the celebration.

Zoro seemed rather unamused at the whole place, alone, leaning on a wall in the corner of the tavern. Then you walked over.

He eyed you up and down for a second, already assuming what you wanted, he spoke.

“I’m not going to dance, if that’s what you came over to ask me.”

“W-well.. no not necessarily..” You wanted your first impression on the soon-to-be world's greatest swordsman to at least go somewhat well, so that’s when you thought to create a second excuse since Zoro saw through the first one..

“I was actually gonna say if you wanted to have a drink with me..?”

He blinked a couple times at that, not expecting that from you at all. He seemed to think for a few seconds.

“Well, I don’t mind a drink… you have yourself a deal. You're paying for my sake, though?”

He smirked slightly at you, still leaning against the wall with one arm.

“I guess so..”

You thought, “at least that went kinda well, although my pockets are probably gonna be screaming ‘broke’ after tonight”

He grinned, and gestured to the nearby bar for you to start walking.

He followed on after you, and once you two got to the bar, Zoro plopped down on the stool right next to you.

“Bartender, could I get a large sake?”

He said, and then glanced over at you. “Make it two…”

~~~

A few minutes went by, and the bartender finally brought his sake over. He set both glasses down, one for you and one for Zoro, who took no time to drink it down in one go.

He then glanced over at you.

“So, what’s your name? You never said.”

"Ah.. call me y/n" You smiled at him, taking a sip of your sake.

“That’s a nice name..”

~~~

The End~ (May be continued)

Consider Following..?

Thank you for reading! (づ￣ ³￣)づ

[xxlemon-chanxx]

How do you think bearded Philip would act if he genuinely liked and cared about someone (romantically)? I'm not good with character characterization of him so I thought you would be a suitable person to answer this :p

Me and my discord actually had a long convo about this exact thing—

Unfortunately, I don't imagine Philip as being a *good* partner. I may love him as a character and simp for him, but I acknowledge that he is a bad man. There's just no way that that man is well-adjusted or emotionally mature enough to be able to handle a healthy relationship. That's regardless of whether the OC S/O is Human, Witch, or Demon.

Assuming the OC is human, and assuming that Philip met them around the time that Elsewhere and Elsewhen took place, so about 60~65 years old, Philip would be incredibly affectionate at first. Once he realizes he wants to care for you in that way, he's going to do anything he can to woo you. He’ll write you poetry, try his best to learn your interests so the two of you have more in common, and leave you gifts that he made himself or “found” (stole). And just being what you’d imagine the perfect boyfriend to be.

This is a trap, even if you can't see it, even if HE doesn't realize it initially, it is a trap.

In a world of Demons and Witches, his first instinct is going to be to try to get you in a position where he is the most important person in your life. He wants you to depend on him, and look to him for protection and guidance in a way that ensures you can't be corrupted by the sinfulness of the world around you. After all, if his brother can fall victim to it, you most definitely can.

He will ensure he is the most important person in your life by making sure he is the ONLY person in your life. Those first few weeks of courting will seem so magical that when he finally asks you to join him on his journey, you can't imagine ever saying no.

If you have a life built where you are, you might hesitate. It's only natural, isn't it? A stable life that promises safety and comfort versus a life with someone who was a stranger mere months ago. A life of sleeping under the stars, never resting in the same place twice. A life of danger and excitement with the man who vows to protect you and provide for you come Hell or high water.

The moment you go with him, the moment you leave that secure life behind, the trap has been sprung, but much like a fly walking across the trigger hairs of a fly trap, the error of your judgment doesn't become apparent to you until much later.

It starts small. Philip pulls away emotionally. Not by much, not enough for you to be able to identify the problem, but enough for you to feel it. He's not as attentive to you anymore. He doesn't serenade you with flowery sonnets like he used to. He doesn't seem as interested in your hobbies unless it was ones the two of you already shared, and even then he seems far more invested in what HE does rather than anything YOU do.

It's a change, but you can't put your finger on what EXACTLY has changed, just that things don't feel as magical as they did before. But you can excuse his behavior, after all, living out in the woods with an inexperienced travel companion is sure to carry its own stress.

Then, after he neglects you for long enough, the abuse begins. It's never physical, but it doesn't have to be. The same voice that made your name sound like a lyric on his tongue is now the voice that is telling you horrible things that make you cry to yourself in an isolated corner while Philip ignores you. The soft touches and pleasant whispers are replaced by aversion and scorn.

And Gods help you if your OC is able to get pregnant. He will do everything in his power to baby trap you. Anything to make sure you are tethered to him for life.

He's got you where he feels comfortable. Why should he distract from his mission? Now and again you’ll see glimpses of the man you fell in love with. The one who wraps you in his arms and tells you captivating poems about why he worships you. The one who twirls with you under a sky full of stars. Those moments are few and far between, but they make it impossible to leave him, even if a part of you knows he's not good for you.

And the worst part is that Philip DOES love you. He's loving you the only way he knows how. This twisted, demented version on what actual love is could very well be the only type of love he knows how to give. Philip adores you, and if you left, it would just destroy him.

And you know that too. Maybe that's another reason why you can't leave him.

[casualheizouenjoyers]

“Alright, I’m making an executive decision because if I let you do any work we’ll get out of here in 5 minutes,” Y/N said as they rolled their eyes.

“Pookie bear isn’t the entire point of escape rooms to escape the room?”

“In the reasonable 2 hours provided, darling”

“It’s not my fault this room isn’t hard enough to escape from”

“Just stand in the corner and look pretty”

“But Y/N, sweetheart, how could I take your job?”

Sending a playful glare his way, Heizou finally stands back and lets you get to work with a joking pout (he’s happy to just have an excuse to look at your pretty face).

an hour easily passes by with heizou's quick comments and jokes, and he’s almost impressed by how stubborn you are to complete the puzzles by yourself.

“…Should I be jealous with how intensely you’re staring into that painting’s eyes?”

“I just know the next clue is hidden somewhere on this painting I just don’t know where,” Y/N complains. “It has to be this painting, all the others have had puzzles in correlation to them and this is the only one left!”

“Aw does my cutie pie need some help?”

“You can help me by using some actually bearable nicknames”

“No promises, but give me a kiss and I’ll consider”

You don’t bother with a response and throw one of the many bracelets you have on (courtesy of heizou) at him. He catches it like the little shit he is.

“Come on you got this! Just this puzzle and you officially have completed an escape room by yourself”

“You’ll do it next time pookie bear”

“Heizou, darling, I will break up with you if you don’t stop with the insufferable nicknames”

“You would never sweetie”

“You’re right, who else would buy me boba?”

Heizou doesn’t respond and takes your hand into his before pulling you close. The two of you walk in a comfortable silence, just enjoying being together out in public. Eventually the two of you arrive at Heizou’s favorite boba place where he tells you to sit down while he gets into the line.

He soon returns with two large bobas in hand ((me personally i love taro)) to the sight of you smiling down at your phone.

“What’s got you smiling so wide darling?”

“I just found the cutest boots ever, and they’re on sale! My followers are going to freak out over this find”

“Well what are you waiting for, show them to me. Those are cute, you said they were on sale?”

“Yeah, it’s that fashion influencer luck helping me out once again”

“Thanks for taking me out, next time I’m paying for everything”

“We’ll see, my irresistible charm will make you distracted enough to forget that promise”

The two of you stare into eachother’s eyes before Heizou starts to lean in. Just as his lips are about to reach yours, the two of you are interrupted by the loud ringing of his phone.

“…Do you seriously have Cupid by fifty fifty as your ringtone?”

“Barbara asked me to and I couldn’t say no”

“That’s fair enough, Barbara is my favorite of the professional disasters”

“…I should probably call her back”

“You should, I’ll call you tonight?”

“Yeah! Yeah sounds good”

Heizou turns away from your doorstep ready to walk home.

“Oh come back here loverboy, you seriously think I’m gonna let you leave without a kiss goodbye?”

Heizou, being down bad, turns around as fast as humanely possible and runs back up to you.

Simp.

0.45 going on a cute date vs being friends with childe 🥲

previous | masterlist | next

Synopsis: you are a fashion youtuber with an immense following and one of many series on your channel is “Fashion Police” where you help people find their personal style! Heizou is a very popular true crime youtuber, as well as a co host for his podcast “professional disasters” with childe and his children. tired of how horribly heizou dresses (they’ve given up on childe) his friends sign him up to appear on your show. and the fact that heizou has a big crush on you? just makes it better. too bad no one told them you two are already happily dating <3

taglist: @aikaxx @amoguz @duckyyyx @nillajhayne @theblueblub @m3gitsune @hotgirlshit5 @eimivalla @lxkeeeee @hikaru-exe @heelift-pd @scarletttcroww @sunsethw4

[natimiles]

Come a Little Closer | Chapter 4

Read: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Words: 3088

Pairs: gn!reader/Arthur; f!MC/Mozart

Tags: swearing; drinking; spoilers from Mozart’s and Arthur’s route in one big bowl of salad; lots of pet names (because I love it); MC is the one in-game, just to make it more clear; Mozart being petty; reader and Arthur being adorable and chaotic; suggestive scenes because we have Arthot as one of the main characters; Arthur simping over you.

“What did you just say?” you asked, eyes wide. You were playing the piano but stopped abruptly.

“I won’t repeat myself,” Mozart said, crossing his arms. 

“What happened to the ‘she’s insufferable, blahblahblah’?”, you asked, imitating his voice. 

“Are you trying to mimic me? I don’t sound like that,” he deadpanned.

“She bought your affection with homemade chocolates.”

“What? No!” He was blushing a little, and you couldn’t help but think it was adorable. “And she didn’t buy any affection! I just said she’s not that bad!”

“Well, almost the same, considering it’s you talking. And tell your cheeks that, maybe if you convince them, they’ll stop blushing so hard.”

“I hate you sometimes.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t,” he groaned.

“So what happens now?” you asked curiously.

“What do you mean?”

“Will you tell her?”

“Tell her what…?” He tilted his head, confused by the conversation.

“That you like her!”

“What? Who said that?”

“If I may,” Arthur raised his finger, asking for a chance to say something. 

He was sitting in a corner, writing while listening to you two playing. He had already been there with you when Mozart arrived, and the musician almost had a heart attack seeing him in the music room. It took a lot of convincing to let your boyfriend stay, with you saying he'd simply enjoy the music.

“You may not,” Mozart looked at you, silently complaining that the writer was already breaking the promise of staying quiet.

“Arthur might have something useful,” you said. “You know, lots of experience with lots of people,” you teased, suppressing a smile.

“Aw, c’mon,” Arthur pouted. He didn’t like it when you teased him about it; it reminded him of a time when you wouldn’t even bat an eye in his direction. And with Mozart around, grinning, he knew the musician was judging and thinking he wasn’t worth your while.

“Sorry, I can’t resist this cute face,” you laughed.

“Gross,” Mozart mumbled.

“Please, tell us,” you pretended not to hear your brother.

“I was just gonna say that if you think she’s not so bad or whatever, you might think of her as a friend, right? Then give her something. You can say it’s in return for the chocolates. Buy her something cute, write her a song… something like that,” he shrugged.

“That’s actually helpful,” you said.

Arthur gasped and feigned offense. “Excuse me, did you think I’d say something stupid?” 

“Can I answer that?” Mozart asked, looking at you with a mischievous smile.

“Seriously,” you giggled. These almost domestic moments made you feel all giddy inside. It was like Mozart was starting to get used to your boyfriend and you felt really happy. You just wouldn’t say anything out loud, or the musician would deny it with his life and probably go back to his petty demeanor. “Arthur is right, it won’t kill you to give her something. Let’s call it a friendship gift.”

“Gotta be something she might really like, you know,” a teasing smile danced on Arthur’s face. “Ask her out, tell her you love her, kiss her…” 

Mozart didn’t even make an effort to say something, his glare spoke loud and clear that he’d kill Arthur if he didn’t stop talking.

“Just think about it,” you placed your hand on Mozart’s shoulder and squeezed it to show your support for him.

xxx

If Mozart was honest, he was already thinking about MC a lot, even before telling you about the chocolates she gave him a few days ago. Well, if he was really being honest, even before she gave him the chocolates. Something changed inside his mind after that stupid double date, he just couldn’t put his finger on what.

He thought about MC almost all day. Sometimes he couldn’t concentrate enough to compose, and when he did, it all sounded too soft. He wanted a powerful song, not a calm lullaby. However, the notes kept coming to his head like this, and he couldn’t just let them go to waste; he had to write down every single one.

The conclusion he came to was that he grew accustomed to MC, and wanted to be friends with her. You suggested he should say something and give her a friendship gift, but was it right? He never announced to any of his friends that he considered them friends. Not that he had many friends, anyway, but he didn’t do any of it with you or with Jean. It was automatic and smooth, just happened. It was only friendship, after all.

Then why in God’s name did he have the urge to follow yours and Arthur’s stupid advice? 

“Hi, Herr Mozart!" MC greeted upon entering his music room. Life had a funny way of making him decide. "I brought you some blanc, coffee, and a slice of cake.”

“Thank you,” he said. She paused for a second in the middle of the room, looking at him curiously. “What?”

“Heh, it’s the first time you've thanked me,” she smiled and set the tray on the coffee table.

“It’s not,” he frowned, trying to remember. He didn’t like realizing that she was right. “Well, I’ll remember to thank you from now on. And to thank you for the chocolates.”

“Don’t worry about it, Herr Mozart.”

“Could you stop calling me that?” He crossed his arms. She tilted her head in confusion and he huffed. “Herr Mozart. Aren’t we friends now?”

“We are?” Her whole face illuminated. “Okay, Herr Wolfgang,” she said, smiling innocently, and he deadpanned. “I’m kidding, Mozart. ”

“Good,” he nodded.

There were a few seconds of comfortable silence while Mozart studied MC. She was just standing there, looking as happy as she always did, maybe a little happier now that he told her they were friends. It made him feel warm inside, probably one of the things a new friendship did to someone, or so he convinced himself at the time.

“I want to thank you for the chocolates,” he blurted out.

“There’s no need! I mean, the chocolates were already a thank-you,” she giggled.

“But I want to. It’s also a friendship gift and it’s already done, so you can’t deny it,” he said, his lips almost pouting. MC thought she might be dead because he was never so nice and soft with her before. She didn’t mind this new side at all. 

“Okay,” she said with a smile.

“Great! Come sit here,” he dragged another bench for her to sit beside him.

She complied with his wish, walking shyly. She had never sat so close to him or stayed for so long in his music room before. The big window right in front of them framed the sunset, the garden tinged with its colors. She kind of understood why his music room was right here and how he got so much inspiration; it was a beautiful view.

“I made you a song,” he said plainly.

“What?” Her gaze finally shifted from the window to the musician. He had put a new sheet on the music shelf. She noticed it didn’t have a title yet; perhaps he was still working on it. His hands poised above the keys, awaiting her attention. She gazed back at his face and smiled, her eyes shining expectantly. “Really? That’s amazing!”

Mozart’s lips quivered just a bit, but it was enough for her to catch his tiny smile. She’d have a lot to get used to now that he considered her a friend. He adjusted himself, and his fingers began to dance across the piano. If a soft song was all he could compose while she plagued his thoughts, then that would be the perfect present for her.

She couldn’t stop smiling, thinking he composed that beautiful song for her. She didn’t know what was on his mind while composing it, but she was certain he really meant to be her friend and didn’t dislike her anymore — if composing a song for her wasn’t already enough of a clue, in the first place.

Although soft and calm, it didn’t exude a sad vibe; it was relaxing. It made her feel happy, comfortable, and at ease, as if she belonged, as if she were already home. She closed her eyes, paying attention to every single note, trying to engrave it in her brain. She planned to ask him if she could take it with her when she went back to the future. Her heart skipped a beat when she thought about it, but she set it aside; she would just enjoy every happy moment she could for now.

When Mozart played the final notes, she opened her eyes with a content sigh. Her bright smile illuminated the room like its own sun, and it seemed contagious as he found himself smiling back — a genuine and easily visible smile. He gazed intently at her, trying to figure out if she liked it or not. He knew she enjoyed his songs, she had said so on the double date. However, this was a different occasion. It wasn’t like the banquet when he played for everyone or a performance to a room full of aristocrats. It was more intimate, despite his reservations in assuming so, and he’d like to hear her say something, anything.

“So…,” he turned his body to get a better look at her.

“I don’t even know what to say… It was breathtaking! Nobody’s ever given me such an amazing and thoughtful gift.”

“I was aiming for it,” he grinned.

She giggled. This new side of the musician was so easy to get along with. He was still full of himself, but his tone wasn’t rude anymore, it was playful. She felt like she could stay there the whole day, and they would be able to talk about anything, or just stay in silence and appreciate good music.

“Thank you, Mozart!” Her voice was no louder than a whisper, but he heard it.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“I guess we’d be trapped in a loop, huh? I thank you, then you thank me… and so on,” she laughed.

MC looked back at the music sheet. She didn’t know how to read it, but there was something captivating about knowing it was written for her. She couldn’t stop staring at it. And Mozart couldn’t stop staring at her. He couldn’t tell exactly what it was, it could be the sunset hitting her face in the most beautiful way he’s ever seen; or it could be how her shoulder relaxed and her body was leaning a little bit to him so she could get a better view of the sheet. Whatever the reason, she looked radiant and he couldn’t bring himself to stop staring at her. A breeze swirled the curtains, carrying a sweet scent with it. He thought it was probably the flowers in the garden.

“Can I… ask you something?” she said sheepishly, looking back at him. “If I’m not overstaying my welcome, that is.”

“You can,” he said simply, feeling intoxicated by her reactions and dizzy from the scent.

“Can you play it again, please?” She probably didn’t even realize, but she gave him such puppy eyes, he thought he wouldn’t be able to deny it even if he wanted to. 

He let out a small laugh through his nose. “Of course.” 

She beamed at him, sliding on the bench to come a little closer. She fiddled with her fingers and bit her lip, still looking into his eyes. He followed her motions without noticing, and she took a deep breath.

“Can I ask one more thing?”

“Now you’re taking advantage of me,” he teased. He felt like if he answered seriously, he’d say something he shouldn’t.

“Sorry. I just… Could you teach me how to play it?”

He looked taken aback. “You’re interested in learning music?” His heart fluttered at the prospect of spending even more time with her, teaching what he knew. However, it sank back down the next second.

“I-I just…” She blushed and looked away, gnawing the inside of her cheek. “I don’t wanna forget it when I go home,” she whispered. “I wanna be able to keep listening to it.”

Of course.

She wasn’t from that time, she didn’t live there. She was there by accident and she was going home soon — sooner than he liked. He narrowed his eyes while examining her face, the gears inside his mind turning at a scary speed, trying to think of everything, all at once. It was a weird and unpleasant feeling, almost like when he rode a carriage. The fear of crashing.

MC looked back at him when he spent the last minute in complete silence, only staring at her with an unreadable expression. She was starting to feel shy and self-conscious. Perhaps she had crossed a line. He had just said he considered her a friend, and she was already asking for favors.

“I’m sorry,” she said, searching his face for any trace that he was mad or annoyed by her request. “It’s probably too much to learn in such a short time. Forget it, I don’t wanna be a burden.”

“No, it’s not a burden,” he said. “There are some tricky parts, but I guess I can teach you.”

“Oh, okay… Thank you, Mozart!” She presented him with a tiny smile, one that would probably be the cause of his second death.

He could feel every beat of his heart against his ribs and the sweet, alluring scent filling his music room. It was far from pleasant, but he suppressed a grimace. He didn’t want her to think there was something wrong or that he didn’t want to spend time teaching her. He’d try and bury it down, until he could understand exactly what it was.

xxx

In the next couple of days, Mozart and MC shocked everyone in the mansion. They spent a lot of time together, talking and being friendly to each other. You couldn’t help but tease your brother whenever you had the chance. He’d always roll his eyes and say something snarky. He called it a friendship, like you and he first had, but you could tell something was different. He was different, his eyes wavered every time someone mentioned MC going back to the future.

You went to the music room to play a little bit in your free time — and to try to pry into Mozart’s new so-called friendship, you wouldn’t deny it. You talked about amenities, trying to get into the topic you most wanted. And you got it when he played you the music he composed for MC, that you hadn’t even heard yet. If it was a few weeks ago, he’d play it for you first. You smiled thinking about how he was changing and wasn’t even aware.

“Is it finished?” you asked. 

“It is. I already played it for her,” he said, a tiny smile on his lips.

“Won’t you give it a title?” You pointed to the top of the sheet.

“I suppose,” his smile faltered.

Mozart tried and failed. To be more precise, he had one; he just couldn’t use it. Every time he composed, he easily thought of a good title. It was always the first thought that crossed his mind while playing the whole song for the first time. He was so used to it, his hand would just slide across the sheet music and write it down without much thought. But not this time. His hand stopped, and he pulled it back abruptly when he realized what he was about to write: Meine Liebe.

“Um… Did she not like it?” you asked cautiously, sensing how his mood dropped suddenly.

“No, she liked it. A lot.”

“Then what’s wrong?” you frowned, nudging him with your elbow to make him look at you.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he replied too fast. It made it even more obvious how something was bothering him, but he didn’t want to talk about it.

“... Is it because she’s leaving soon?” you asked as softly as you could. 

He glanced at you with an irritated expression. He didn’t say anything and didn’t have to. He hated how he couldn’t hide things from you. He knew that expression you were making, it was the one you did every time you were right about something and were about to rub it in his face. He never realized you learned it from him, beginning to do that when you two started bonding as siblings and spending a lot of time together.

“What?” he asked, annoyed.

You shrugged and smiled. “Just thinking how you and MC are closer now.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

You snorted, squinting your eyes. “I mean you’re different, but in a good way. You’ve changed so much in the past three weeks, but you didn’t even realize it by yourself, so I’m telling you now. It’s okay if you’re gonna miss your friend.” You emphasized the word on purpose, to push his buttons.

“What are you implying?” He rolled his eyes.

“I’m not implying anything. I’ll straight up say it,” you were serious, and that stunned him in surprise. “It can all start with a friendship, and maybe that’s even easier. Try to understand what you feel. It won’t hurt to just think, right? But you gotta be fast. I know you’re aware of this, and that’s the whole reason for this sour mood of yours right now… Your time is running out.”

Mozart frowned but didn’t find the words to say something back to you. You smiled gently and placed your hand on his head, guiding him to rest it on your shoulder, for comfort. You threaded your fingers through his soft hair, and he sighed loudly, a comfortable silence taking over the room.

He was stubborn, but he actually listened to you and thought about it. He wasn’t that dense; he could feel something was changing. He noticed the sweet scent was only present when she was around. Even now, he was sitting close to you, but couldn’t smell anything different — and sometimes you wore some really sweet perfume.

He knew what it meant, Comte explained it to all of them when they were reborn. He just didn’t want to acknowledge it, not without being a hundred percent sure.

Later, he lay down in his bed and stared at his ceiling like it was the most interesting thing in his whole life. His mind wouldn’t settle down, and he couldn’t sleep.

It wasn’t as easy and painless as you said.

Masterlists

Read: Chapter 5

[haryuwu]

🪞 Twisted Wonderland | Le Mirage

Author's Note: Chapter 4 is reached! Pachipachipachiiii 👏 I'm still writing chapter 5 so please do be patient with me. Again thank you for the reblogs, I really appreciate a little help to spread my fic! I'll post something about it soon (´;ω;｀)

The Prefect and Grim, just recently, exited the Hall of Mirrors from checking the dorms of Ignihyde and Diasomnia and notifying its respective housewardens. Although both are occupied on their own activities in which the Prefect and Grim couldn’t disturb them from. 

“I can’t really tell if they’re taking the preparation seriously compared to the other dorms we visited first…Was the Saintess not worth preparing for?” Grim stated in a disappointed tone as he described how the housewarden of Ignihyde has been doing. 

Ortho Shroud, Idia’s younger brother, explained to them that he was told to tell anyone who asks for him a serious reason about his brother’s whereabouts. 

Everyone knew he had never set his foot out of his room for quite a long while after the incident with Styx. So, he came up with an excuse that his current state has not been too good and that he is grinding all day to get his favorite character’s SSR card from a shoujo anime based game that has recently released a new season.

Although, Idia could’ve just said that as not an excuse to not see them as they already understand how much of a shut-in he already is and how important it is for him to be such a simp to his favorite character. He even had the time to send a message to Ortho via voicemail that he doesn’t want to attend the Ball of the Evening as he thought it is like a social gathering and he might faint if he does meet the Saintess. 

This is how it went…

[Flashback] 

"Hello, Prefect of Ramshackle dorm and Grim! Are you here to see my older brother? I have to stop you here because he can't see anyone right now," Ortho with his usual jolly robotic voice greeted them in the hallway. It seems that he has been expecting their arrival at their dorm and waited there to pass a message as well.

"Hey, Ortho! We came here to notify you guys, but what's up with Idia?" Grim ran towards Ortho who had been floating at the corner and greeted back with a question.

"Ah, I came here prepared for that exact question! Big bro provided me voice recorded mails for you to listen in and get your answers," with a flick of a finger, a hologram showed up in front of them with an icon of a play button. Ortho tapped on that button, playing an audio of a tired male's voice.

"You might've been wondering why I have to record this when I just have to tell you guys upfront-"

"But that's a hard NOPE for that. There’s no way I’m going out just to do that so yeah, anyway…" The two glanced at each other as they continued to listen to the recorded audio file.

"First off…I hate social gatherings, as you all probably already know, so showing my face to the event would straight up be out of the question."

"Maybe showing up to meet the Saintess here at our dorm won't be that bad but I can't guarantee—like a guaranteed pity—it might land on soft pity though, that I'll be physically be there considering that I already know exactly who the Saintess looks like," the Prefect and Grim's eyes widened when Idia had mentioned that he had already seen the Saintess. 

But it wasn't clarified if he saw her in person or by stumbling upon an image that was secretly provided through the internet. This is when Ortho tapped the pause button as he caught on both of their surprised faces.

"Big bro and I have seen her before! She's already a well known influencer from the Magicam app."

"She was selected to voice a ghost maiden who was trapped inside a mirror that obeys anyone to answer their inquiries. It's an upcoming anime this month and we can't wait to watch it soon!" Thinking about another bonding time with his older brother, Ortho gleefully described the character in full detail. Yet he has to stop himself from babbling unnecessary information making him digress from the topic. 

"Ah, I've spoken too much. Let's skip the voice audio from 5:13 to 1:08:30! It seemed as though my brother spilled a lot of unintentional spoilers between those timestamps…"

"The audio he sent was an hour long?!"

[End of Flashback]

The prefect and Grim couldn't get any other details from the Shroud brothers other than their gushing about the most awaited anime series. This may have taken more than 30 minutes of their time, but they obtained new information about the Saintess being one of the top ranking influencers just like Vil Schoenheit and Neige LeBlanche.

"So she's like a famous voice actress or an idol? I don't really get what type of job they do, but that must be cool!" While walking down the hallway, two familiar students from Diasomnia stepped out of the room while carrying boxes with the use of magic. One of them is very insistent on returning back to their dorm as soon as possible. 

On the other hand the one tailing them from behind is trying to calm their nerves from creating havoc. Although his complexion is beginning to give the Prefect an idea that he's about to faint from exhaustion. 

"Silver and Sebek! What are you guys doing out here?" As usual, Grim loudly greeted them from across the hall, waving his little paw in the air.

The silver haired boy turned their way when he heard Grim's echoing voice from afar. "Ah, it’s you two…We were just about to head back and bring these decorations to the dorm as fa…Lilia instructed."

Looking at the large box Silver is carrying, some pieces of cloth are spilling out of the edge. Sebek caught the top cloth from the box Silver’s carrying from falling off when Silver began losing his strength to balance the box's weight in his arms. 

"All I see are a bunch of blankets…”

“I STILL DON'T APPROVE OF THIS IDEA!" Sebek yelled in displeasure, causing the two to wince from the ringing sound of their ears.

"What theme did you guys even come up with? A pajama party?" Considering the amount of blankets and additional fabric, Grim assumed that they’ll topple all of it to form a large fluffy bed.

"Huh! Not quite! And your guess is ridiculous. There's no way that our lordship would hold a lousy human party. Only Silver would enjoy such a thing," Sebek loudly yelled to keep Silver awake beside him while declaring his strong disapproval of their plans for the visiting hour of the Saintess.

"Sebek…Lilia and our housewarden had an agreement about this. There's nothing we can do about it," Silver sluggishly rubbed his eye while mumbling his explanation. "Besides, they knew how terribly bright the Saintess was."

"...What do those blankets have to do with her being bright?" Silver stalled in his words. Even Sebek could not explain it since he knew little about her. "Well…I was told she's similar to a star. Her glow never dies even in broad daylight or any light that reaches her. These blankets will be used to prevent any light showers."

"It may be already dim inside Diasomnia, but even the tiniest flame of a candle can make her reflect light." That was an exaggeration, right? It’s hard to tell from the way Silver looks while explaining a strange description of the Saintess. This specific description probably came from Lilia himself. Grim groaned due to the ridiculousness. Perhaps it was a metaphor that a small cat could not comprehend right away. 

Grim could only groan and glare at nothing after being called a cat through this narrative. The writer wishes not to disrespect the characters despite their race and status—but only for the sake of adding more sentences in this paragraph.

"Silver, let's return to the dorm now! You've shared enough insights with them today. Let's go!" As impatient as he is, Sebek grabbed Silver and started taking big strides after bidding them farewell.

“That’s one strange way to describe the Saintess, don’t you think so?” The Prefect could only sigh shortly. They are unsure if this information would be helpful to get to know the Saintess. The Prefect could only hope the said Saintess isn’t as blindingly bright as the largest sun of the solar system. Should they consider getting a pair of sunglasses? 

“Let’s just go to the headmage and tell him we’re done passing the message,” Grim agreed before resuming to head towards the headmage’s office. 

The office is just a few walks away and yet it feels as though the hallways get longer and longer. Each step they take, the floor gets stretched like rubber. No…the hallway seems to reflect the path behind them and yet the door of the headmage's office remained unreachable from a distance. 

Grim begins to sense something fishy in this kind of predicament. Has someone activated a spell? Is this some sort of prank? Unlikely—They have never encountered anyone who can manipulate someone’s vision, let alone hear someone cite a spell to perform such terrifying magic.

“Hey, what’s going on?!” As Grim exclaimed, something bright bursts out of the headmage’s office. The two barely avoided the running bolt of light and could only grab on the nearest pillar of the hall. Waiting for the force of the wind to calm, the strange light escaped and disappeared like a bubble.

“W-What was that…?” Still in a process of recollecting themselves, the two eventually went for a run to consult the headmage regarding what they have recently experienced.

Upon pushing the door open, the headmage whose current state is strangely haggard stood there, unbothered. The papers fluttered down all over his table down to the floor. Perhaps the cause came from the light that surprised them earlier. Yet his unfazed grin is evident behind the beak of his mask as soon as he caught the sight of the two arriving at a perfect time. “Oh joy! I presume that you have finally sent the message to our housewardens?” welcomed by the headmage, he immediately tried to fix his hat and hair.

“Yes, we have—but can we talk about what just happened earlier?!” The two explained that something bizarre occurred at the halls on their way to the headmage’s office. Grim’s point of view might’ve been an exaggeration as the light was twice his size. 

"Now, now—I'm sure you have a lot of questions but I'd prefer it if you could tone it down," Casting a spell to reorganize the papers from the floor, the headmage hummed as more questions followed after his statement. He eventually groaned in disbelief before telling the two to come closer.

"The light you just saw…could you guess who it was?" Who? That thing? That ball of light—that was a ‘who’? Who would’ve thought that it’s a person. As if a cat got their tongues, not Grim, Crowley sighed in disappointment as he was anticipating an answer from the two may it be a ridiculous one. Alas, he couldn’t get a single sound out of them in which he decided to give them a hint.

“No? Nothing at all? And here I thought you had been gathering useful information during the errand I have given you,” He shook his head before resuming, “Then how about this, a clue will be generously given to you by yours truly and because I’m so kind, I’ll let Grim join the Ball of the Evening if you guessed right.” Wide grins were slowly forming on their faces because of this condition. Although, the Prefect isn’t so confident to give the answer so they let Grim answer this one.

And so, the headmage began to clear his throat as he stated the promised clue. “This person’s related to mirrors. You may have seen something bizarre outside my office earlier, no?” That’s right…an unsettling magic cast upon the hallway does resemble how a mirror reflects what stands before it. What’s even more peculiar was that their reflection was not apparent—supposed the hallway was only affected by the spell. But who could cast such an overwhelming spell in the first place?

“I haven’t seen that kind of magic around…was it someone’s signature spell?” Grim asked the Prefect, however, they could only give him a shrug. Even if they searched for them, there were no students who could use a spell similar to that nor someone related to mirrors. Well, students of Pomefiore do use mirrors most of the time but it isn’t magic related.

Wait…Could it be…? 

There’s only one name that popped up into their minds. There’s no doubt, it must be them! “Maybe…it was one of the Mirages?” As soon as a familiar name was uttered, the headmage began to applaud as he showed them his satisfactory smile. He felt even more proud that his school teaches his students well that it must have paid off. Soon, NRC will take the lead if this continues! 

“Was it…the Saintess, headmage Crowley?” An even wider smile, they must’ve gotten the bingo already. But what could be the reason for the Saintess’ sudden visit? And leaving a large mess at that. 

“You guessed it right! Well, it is already an obvious answer to begin with. Nonetheless, I had a thought you might have a hard time guessing without a hint since the two of you barely have enough knowledge regarding other powerful mages. But I digress!” 

“But what could possibly be the reason she visited your office? It wasn’t even the time for her to arrive at school…” A very good question indeed. It would take days to travel from Shaftlands to NRC, yet it is also possible to arrive here much faster with the use of a certain gadget.

There’s only one family who owns such a thing for traveling purposes. Are they perhaps well acquainted? 

A lot of thoughts rushed all at once into the Prefect’s mind. They knew Rook just recently heard of the Saintess and news of her arriving at the Isle of Sages has yet to be announced. “Since you’re that curious, I at least need to share what has been weighing on my mind.”

“Please know that you must not share this to anyone else or else I’ll change my mind for making Grim join us in the Ball of the Evening!” The two agreed as they waited for his explanation. Going back to his seat and putting the documents on his table aside, his tone suddenly turned serious as he spoke out what he had recently heard from the Saintess. 

“‘I insist on canceling the event’—was what she said. I do wonder why she was so desperate to ask for something her parents and this school has arranged for her,” The headmage continuously grumbled as he seemed genuinely displeased of what the Saintess had demanded him to do. 

“Of course, I refused naturally. This is to celebrate her taking over her ancestor’s role!” It would truly be a shame to step down for an unexplained reason why she must get the event canceled. 

However, what comes next has left an even more wavering feeling within the office.

“And to my dismay, she asked for a request as the member of Mirage that I did not expect to hear,” staring at the Prefect and Grim without blinking, the headmage slowly worded, “If I tell you I foresaw something terrifying that might put your college to a grave predicament…as the headmage, would you simply doubt this ability I inherited since birth?” 

An ability that is considered powerful for a mage to possess…an ability that is said to be confidential, one that matches god’s power yet may be frowned upon by many—a soothsayer.

“Dire Crowley, headmage of Night Raven College…despite my position to be named as the Saintess, I swear that my eyes are incapable of fabricating the future!” 

To Be Continued

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[latenightartist-author]

When you’ve been simping for Benoit Blanc and find out he’s gay😢

Now I’ve crushed on 4 gay guys (irl) and 1.5 fictional gay guys. Excuse me while I go just hide in the corner bye 👋

Ps: I’m not mad he’s gay(or any of the real ones were gay) I’m mad my gaydar doesn’t work.

Interview confirming his gayness: https://youtu.be/GtYdY12Fq6c?feature=shared

[heromonty]

Pleasantview Townies

⤷ pt. 2/i’m slow idk: goopy gilscarbo, komei tellerman

[sssaaavvveeedddd]

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐎𝐍'𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟒𝐓𝐇, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎.