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writingsoftarnishedsilver · 3 days ago

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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

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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.

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rattkachuk · 2 months ago

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btw i'm so glad cooley cleared wavers because i'm already too attached to his pet bunny

#tito cooley fan account here #calgary wranglers #calgary flames #i know posting my flames thoughts on here #is like speaking to the void but

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kaidanalenkosprmanager · 7 months ago

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THE BEST OF PRIORITY: TUCHANKA (PART 1)

Featuring: Cmdr. Sophie Shepard, Urdnot Wrex, and Urdnot Bakara With: Dr. Mordin Solus, Primarch Adrien Victus, Dalatrass Linron, Urdnot Wreav, and Comm. Specialist Samantha Traynor This will be the defining moment of Krogan history... Mass Effect 3: Legendary Edition (2021)

#mira makes gifs ✨#sophie shepard #urdnot wrex #mordin solus #mass effect #mass effect 3 #me3 #mass effect legendary edition #dailygaming #tuchanka is here baby!! she’s another two parter bc she was a chonky one for good cutscenes #i was gonna enjoy some ME3 last night bc i have to redo the coup for reasons™️ but scottina released reegar returns #AND THATS MY FAVORITE QUARIAN ON THE CITADEL (plus everything scott makes is stonks!!)#so we restored the ME3 install and divvied up the tuchanka footage into gifs instead while textures reinstalled lmao #but onto the gifset commentary as per my usual tag ranting: i adore tuchanka!! it’s one of my favorites for priority missions!!#wrex and bakara have some absolutely FLAME dialogue throughout the mission (especially bakara’s speech)#i usually pick a quote i like from the mission to subquote the post with and i wanted to use bakara’s but i decided it made a better gif!#also wrex head butting wreav is hot as fuck thanks for that one wrex you kinda ate on that #the first set is kinda boring compared to the second set but i love that the dalatrass comes in #and tries to make a shady little underhanded deal with shep!!! like that’s one of the more interesting ME3 plot points imo #i myself would never side with her bc i love wrex too much and disagree with genophage politics too much #but for her to come in with a shady little deal and be like ‘you should sabotage the cure and we’ll help you instead’?#i gotta respect her shady motives even if i hate her tbh lol #i will say i wish companions had a bit more dialogue in the cutscenes in the front end (and the back end too)#priority tuchanka feels a little? light? on the commentary from EDI and james #they both deserved so much more dialogue during the mission bc this is SUCH A BIG ONE??? this is such a huge deal???#i wish they had more to say here!!! bc i feel like they would both have so many thoughts on everything going on!!! ESPECIALLY kalros??#and wreav?? the city of the ancients?? like there's so many concepts that get the BAREST of touches and i wish they were touched on more!!#bc the city of the ancients is the best part of the mission imo.. like it's gorgeous and i wish we saw just a touch more of it!!#like c'mon i KNOW the companions would have SOOOO much to say in the bigger conversations!!!

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blubble-lake · 1 year ago

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was wondering if there's a good spot to share a list of my finale grievances- a good amount of it is in regards to Simon and Betty but it's also about other things that had happened as well

#I'm sorry- I really don't like being too outwardly upset but this has been punching me 😭#I just wanted to know if there were others that may share my thoughts on it and can cry too #was also nervous on just posting them here bc of any flames- sensitive lol 🥲#adventure time #fionna and cake #petrigrof #simon petrikov #betty grof #at #my post

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girlwiththegreenhat · 9 months ago

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you ever hate on something you've never played/watched/read for what are still moderately good reasons given the circumstances, and then decide to go and play/watch/read the thing just to be fair. just to give it a chance

and then you were not only Right but its Worse Somehow and you're actually just more pissed off now

#liz blogs #vocaloid #this post is about project se\\kai. what a garbage ass replacement of project diva oh my god #i dont care about any of these random ass teenagers why does my vocaloid game have all these other guys in it #why are there 238928934 currencies why does it take so long to unlock new songs its just all too much and so convoluted #i wanted a rhythm game not a rhythm game that takes a backseat to visual novel and gacha game and watch 3298 ads #GET THIS OTHER BULLSHIT OUTTA HERE #i thought rhythm game on a touchscreen was a bad enough idea but i wanted to be FAIR because project diva doesnt get updated anymore #even though that was THE vocaloid game for a fucking decade and they replaced it with hot flaming dogshit oh my god #its just every other fucking mobile game im gonna start biting people #im in my Hater Year but i'm actually fucking right about everything aaaAAAAAAAAA #and look. i didn't play it for too long because it was just too fucking annoying and overwhelming. but it seems like you can only #play x amount of songs in a day before you run out of energy. which you need to Buy #you get more when you level up! it recharges! but it seems that it takes longer and longer to do that #thts the only Complaint i have that i cant actually verify because i would need to play longer and i am Not doing that #but if im right. thats the biggest load of shit of all #just go back to making project diva games. let me pay for the game so i can play interrupted without all this other BS in my face #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #the like... two little visual novel bits i saw that Just had vocaloids in them were cute. i will be real with u. but who are these like #six teams of random ass teenagers i dont know and dont care about. why did u put non vocaloids in da vocaloid game. are you nuts #maybe i just need to figure out how to mod project diva cuz at this point lord knows theyre not doing anything else with it #if you wanted to have other characters sega do u know how many Other vocaloids there are. you didnt have to invent random boring teenagers #pullin a fuckin transformers and backseating your Title Characters to a bunch of random ass humans im not here for #except you charlie watson from bumblebee i love you mwah

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anomalouscutie · 1 year ago

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bold theory but im like 80% sure that the spiderman 2 story was a little lackluster because the dlc is going to be doing a lot more of the heavy lifting this time around

#i mean theyve definitely got dlc planned already… they had no idea how well the first games dlc would sell but this time around they do #i mean. okay heres my thought process here #1.#we know that norman is going to become the green goblin soon. the ‘’g-serum’’ he talked about was for harrys cure after the symbiote failed #but norman is probably the one who becomes the green goblin. how? idk yet maybe he tests it on himself first or something #i think thats going to be one of the storylines in the dlc #2. in this game they introduced ally teamups for the crimes in the overworld #two for the spidermen respectively and one for wraith. but during the period where harry is agent venom he has an ally teamup as well #his own animations and voice lines and everything. and thats a very short part of the game #so im actually convinced that harry will wake up from his coma in one of the waves of dlc and fight with the symbiote again #black cat had special finisher animations with miles too so maybe shes an ally teamup too? 👀#maybe wishful thinking but tbh i could see it happening considering the black cat threads from this game havent been entirely wrapped up yet #and also theres a severe lack of ally teamups LOL so im p sure harry at the very least is coming back #maybe to help fight norman somehow for when he turns into the goblin ?#idk. anyways #3. we still have the rest of kravens family to worry about and since they were tracking felecia maybe thats where she comes back ?#4. obviously theres going to be a dlc about the flame/cletus cassidy + carnage.#the flame even has a cult in this adaptation and their gatherings would make great bases which this game DESPERATELY needs more of #also going back to the ally teamup thing yuri still has one post game #and theyre definitely continuing her story given how open ended that questline was #im like. pretty confident in this even though i know its kind of iffy #if they save harry + the goblin for spiderman 3 i wouldnt be surprised but i think it has a solid chance of being addressed in the dlc #tldr there were WAY more lose ends than the first game

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wonboos · 3 days ago

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ohhh the eyepatch guy looks like the ice nihility unit from the leaks...

#gam3 bo1 posting #i need him playable or i'll die i really will #i can't handle another baizhu or screwllum he needs to be playable SOON #well not too soon since i'll be completely dry after sunday #but i need to keep my status as a nihility main #i'm so fucking stupid i really thought i was going to be safe on amorpheus because i don't like the whole greek mythology aesthetic #dumb fucking idiot just look at you you're so dumb #also people being excited for the flame chaser expies and i'm sitting here like 🥰 wow 🤗 i sure know the hi3 lore and who they are

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andypantsx3 · 7 months ago

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contents: general bakugou x princess reader; fem + afab virgin reader. nsft; oral (f receiving) & missionary. semi-sequel to this drabble. 3.2k.

Your wedding day arrives far earlier than you are prepared for.

It’s a tense affair, for you at least. The country depends on it, and you feel the scheming eyes of the nobility hot on your skin as you pronounce your vows to Bakugou. They will not take kindly to your having chosen him over their sons and brothers, over their own desire to rise to power. There will be a price they will want you to pay, soon enough.

The chapel is resplendent with sumptuous decor, the court in their finest. But the room is fringed with Bakugou’s men in their military leathers, a reminder that this is not a happy day, but rather a dangerous political stunt. It keeps the noble houses docile while they are in the room with you, but you know they will return to their estates and their plans.

Your fate is in Bakugou’s hands, now, in more ways than one.

The ceremony is dizzying, and impossible to wrap your head around. The preceptor pronounces Bakugou your prince-consort, ostensibly to remain so while you assume the throne after your father’s passing. You will continue to rule him as his sovereign. But your vows to Bakugou also promise him your obedience as his wife.

It is a contradiction, an impossible trap, the very reason why the general is the only man you could stomach the thought of marrying. If a husband is to rule you after all, Bakugou will do so justly.

The thought does not stifle your nerves, however, as you make your way back down the aisle, sit down to the reception, and take your meal. A disquieting, anticipatory feeling settles over you, fizzing under your skin. You barely pick at your dinner, and drink too much of the wine.

You can tell Bakugou notices, scarlet gaze ever-perceptive, though he does not say anything until you are shepherded to the bridal suite to consummate.

Various aides try to follow you in to prepare you, but Bakugou slams the door closed on them, propping it shut with one broad shoulder. He barks at them to scram.

“Lord General—that is, Your Highness,” one of them stutters through the door. “We are required to witness the consummation—to verify that it is complete.”

A bolt of shame goes through you at this, and you catch hold of one of the intricately-carved wooden bed pillars. Bakugou grunts, holding the door closed with one palm while spinning to the nearby dressing table and chair. He grabs the chair, wedging it forcefully up under the door handle.

“You’ll be sure of consummation when I’m done here,” he growls through the door. “Don’t need you little fucking perverts making eyes the whole damn time. Now beat it.”

A weird sound escapes you, something between a gasp and a laugh—at his promise, at his gruffness.

“Your Highness,” comes a plaintive entreaty through the door. Bakugou slams a fist against it, and you hear a squeal and a sound like someone’s fallen over their feet.

An absurd laugh seizes you, and Bakugou eyes you pettishly.

“The fuck’re you laughing about,” he says, but there’s no heat in it.

Your fingers twist on the bedpost, nervously tracing the lines. “You’re taking to your new post well.”

Bakugou’s features twist into something dangerously satisfied, a smirk painting his mouth. Your breath comes short.

“My post,” he echoes, raising an eyebrow. “As your husband.”

Your stomach swoops. The disquiet flames back to life under your skin, settling heavy in your gut like a stone.

“I supposed it is a post like any other,” you say, fixing your gaze on the ground. “There are responsibilities and… marital duties.”

You hear the soft tread of Bakugou’s boot as he steps away from the door, the rustle of his doublet as he draws closer. His many medals and ceremonial sword belt clink softly. It is a fashion you know he does not prefer, always living in his shirtsleeves—the better to fight in, to train in.

A calloused hand takes your chin, tipping your face up to his.

“You nervous, Princess?” he asks. His tone is obnoxious, as usual, but his crimson gaze traces your face.

You barely suppress a shiver under his touch. Your stomach churns with a thousand emotions and you find you don’t know how to feel. Relieved that you’ve made it this far. Annoyed with Bakugou’s composure and general manner. Apprehensive about what is to come. And warm, suddenly, all over. You do not want to examine why.

“Nonsense,” you sniff.

A feral smile curls the corner of Bakugou’s mouth like he sees right through you. “You’ve never been with a man.”

Your face burns but you force yourself to return Bakugou’s assessing stare. “I’ve never been to Musutafu, either, but I know it well enough. I should think I am… prepared.”

Something hot alights in Bakugou’s gaze, burning like a coal. It’s not unlike how he looked at you that night in the dark outside his chambers, when you’d first come to him with this wild proposal.

“And what do you think you know,” he says, flatter than a question.

Your nose grows hot. “Enough.”

A thumb slides along your jaw, settling against the pulse in your neck. “Answer the question, angel.”

Your face just might be on fire. You steel yourself, reciting dispassionately. “You will undress me and then… enter me. I shall lie still—they say you can breathe through the pain and it will go away after some time. You will… work yourself to completion. And then we shall be done.”

A snort comes from Bakugou. “Is that how you royal tightasses do it?”

You feel your eyes narrow. “That is how everyone does it.”

Your ladies in waiting had been very emphatic. All of them had spoken of the same mechanics. The initial discomfort, the pain, the way a husband moved upon his wife until he was satisfied.

“You don’t know shit, Princess,” Bakugou says.

You reach up to pull his hand from your face, but he tenses, arm growing solid and immovable.

“Explains why all you nobles are such fucking tight-buttoned pricks if that’s how you’re doing it.”

Your reply is startled out of you when his hand finds your waist. You take a step back, and then another, startling again when your back finds the wall. Bakugou follows you, eyes hot.

“You are insufferable,” you inform him hotly. “I am sure of the matter.”

“You’re always sure of a lot of things, Princess,” he says. His hand is back at your waist, and suddenly all your skin feels too hot and tight, stifling like a velvet dress in summer.

“I am sure you are the most obnoxious man on earth,” you say. “Now be quiet and commence with it. Let’s have done with it.”

Bakugou’s face is suddenly closer than you’d remembered it being.

“I’ll have done with you alright,” he says. “But I’m not gonna do it like you little uppity prudes.”

You find you can’t think of what he means, all of your thoughts clouded with his proximity, the feeling of his hand moving to your skirts.

“I—but there is only the one way,” you manage. None of your ladies had mentioned anything else.

Bakugou’s mouth cuts into a smirk again, and you hate him for how pretty it is.

“We’ll fuckin’ see about that,” he says.

And then his mouth is pressed to yours.

It’s nothing like the stilted peck you’d been obliged to give him at the ceremony—one that still left your face burning, for some unknowable reason. This feels entirely different in its intensity. Bakugou’s mouth is hot and soft and tempting and eager, and your body thrills with it.

Every inch of your skin feels like it zings with lightning when he licks into your mouth, and he presses you harder into the wall. You feel his groan all the way down to your toes.

“B–akugou,” you pant when his mouth leaves yours, only to stifle a yip when he moves down to your throat. He sucks a mark there, laving over it with his tongue, and you feel like you're melting in his hands. “That’s—not my—ah!—mouth,” you manage.

The tiniest scrape of teeth has you yelping again, and you find yourself clutching his bicep for purchase.

“No shit,” he says, leaving another mark lower, mapping his way towards your chest. Calloused fingers come up to cup one of your breasts, thumb swiping over your nipple through your stays. You catch hold of his hair, yanking a fistful of that flaxen blonde, clenching your thighs together.

“What are you doing?” you hiss.

Bakugou looks up at you, expression annoyed. “Consummating.”

“But you’re not undressing me,” you say. “And shouldn’t we—on the bed?

Bakugou raises a blonde eyebrow. “They tell you it needs to be on a bed, too?”

You blink, momentarily disarmed. It was quite literally called sharing the marriage bed—where else were you supposed to do it?

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same thing?” you eventually ask him.

Both of Bakugou’s eyebrows shoot for the moon, and he looks very suddenly like he wants to laugh. A grin yanks at his mouth, sharp and beautiful.

“I knew you’d be a fucking handful,” he says, his tone somehow both annoyed and delighted. “Don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about and you’re still trying to give me orders.”

You yank at the fistful of his hair you’re still clutching and he hisses, hand shooting out to grab yours. He works your grip off of him, pinning your wrist to the wall. The air in the room suddenly feels a hundred times thicker, like trying to breathe through honey.

“Listen closely, Princess,” he tells you, leaning in. “We're going to consummate, alright. But I’m not just gonna squeeze my eyes shut and stick it in. I’m going to do what I want first, and you’re going to be good and let me.”

Your face ignites in flame. You want to disagree reflexively. “If it’s going to be painful I’d rather just have it over with, if you don’t mind,” you say.

Bakugou stares back, scarlet gaze roving over you. “It’s not gonna be if you shut up and let me do what I want.”

You blink. You hadn’t heard that there was a way around the pain—why hadn’t anyone told you?

“I—really?” you ask.

Bakugou nods. “Really.”

“Oh,” you say. “Well then… you may proceed, I suppose.”

“You suppose,” he echoes, staring you down. The look on his face makes you want to lean forward and bite it off.

“Well get on with it,” you say, arching your eyebrows.

Bakugou looks for a moment like he wants to shake you. But he ducks his head instead, lowering his mouth to yours again.

“Gonna fuck that bossiness right out of you,” he mutters, low like he’s promising himself and not you. But then he kisses you again, muffling your gasp in his mouth.

You’ve never kissed another man, and do not have a frame of reference for what he’s doing. But Bakugou is a good kisser, you think. Every flick of his tongue feels like someone has uncorked champagne and poured it beneath your skin, and every brush of his mouth against yours sends a liquid heat racing through your veins.

You moan into his mouth when calloused fingers delve beneath the collar of your gown, dipping into your stays and pinching a nipple. He rolls it carefully, and you arch against him without any say-so from your brain.

“Been thinking about this, Princess,” he says. “Ever since I saw you in that little nightdress. Gonna show you what it really means to be with a man.”

You’re excused from answering by his mouth back on yours. Not that you think you could, with the way his fingers feel in the cups of your stays, or the press of a strong thigh between your own.

“Bakugou,” you gasp when he peels off of you, only to sink to his knees before you.

“It’s Katsuki,” he says, busying himself with the hem of your skirts.

“B–Katsuki,” you say. “What are you doing?”

Long fingers roll up the hemline of your dress, then yank at your underthings, exposing you to him. You gasp again, moving to cover yourself, but Bakugou pins you to the wall with an arm across your stomach, catching your thigh and pulling it over his shoulder.

“Husbandly duties,” he replies, another smirk on his mouth.

And then your head thunks against the wall as that mouth moves, pressing to you.

“Katsuki!” you shout, biting off into an embarrassing moan when he laves over you. No one had told you about this part—about how a man’s mouth there would make you feel like fireworks had just been lit off in your veins. About how a man’s mouth could even go there at all.

Bakugou doesn’t reply, kissing you there as he had your lips. A delicate suck from him over the cleft of you has you arching in his hands again, and you can quite literally feel him smirking against you.

He works you thoroughly, licking and sucking for what feels like torturous hours, but must only be minutes, until you’re a writhing, panting mess, only held upright by the arm he has banded across your lower stomach. There’s a pressure rising within you, pooling in all your limbs, making you shake and shiver with it, and what feels like no way to release it.

“Katsuki—I feel strange,” you say, bucking against his mouth. “Oh—oh!”

“Just hold on, sweetheart, and let yourself feel it,” Katsuki tells you, before licking back over you. A finger presses up inside of you, foreign but strangely good in conjunction with his mouth. Then another one presses in and they curl as if seeking something, making you twist in his grip.

And then something makes you jerk—the press of Katsuki’s fingers inside you in just the right spot, while he sucks on you, feeling like he’s touching the same place inside of you from both sides.

Something inside you snaps, uncoiling, pleasure flooding down you like a mudslide. You cry out Bakugou’s name, tears in your vision, riding out your pleasure against his mouth. Bakugou licks you through it, groaning low in his throat with appreciation.

“That’s it, Princess,” he says, tone rough. “Now you’re ready for consummation.”

You hear his words as if through a haze, and it’s only once you’re moving—being picked up and carried over to the bed—that you register what he’s saying.

He frees himself from his breeches, and stretches out over you, kissing your mouth. You’re embarrassed to taste yourself on him, but the press of him to you overrides that concern. In one smooth stroke he presses in, and you are shocked to find that he slides home easily, your core slick and ready.

It feels strange, but not at all unpleasant—absolutely nothing like what they’d told you.

“You alright, Princess?” Bakugou asks.

“I—yes,” you say, voice fluttering off when he flexes his hips, moving inside of you. The slide of him inside of you is unexpectedly good, especially when he lowers a hand to your core, pressing a thumb to that bundle of nerves at the hood of you.

“Feel good?” he asks, his eyes hot on your face. You cling to him, hips lifting into him unthinkingly as his thumb pets over you again, as he presses in and out of you a few more times.

You nod, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of saying it aloud.

He grins anyway, feral and fever-bright. His pace picks up into something faster, and you’re embarrassed to hear the slap of him against you, the eager way your body welcomes him in.

The band of pressure builds up inside you again, slowly, with every sure stroke of Bakugou inside you. He’s hot and hard and heavy over you, pressing you into the mattress, and the tops of his cheeks are flush with effort—the way he looks sometimes when he’s just come in from the training pitch.

He’s beautiful—handsome and strong and hot-headed and determined. And it dawns on you that he’s yours now—not just your subject but your husband, your prince consort, and now your lover.

It makes all your skin turn molten hot again, especially when you look down and see your knees have rucked his shirt up. You can see the flex of his abs as he thrusts between your thighs, all that golden skin and dense muscle.

The slide of him inside you and the sight of him over you is suddenly too much, and you feel yourself tip right over the edge again. Bakugou catches your hand as you lift it to muffle your cry, kissing over your knuckles.

“That’s it, Princess, that’s it,” he says again, ducking his head to kiss you.

You moan into his mouth as he fucks you through it, and he groans with the clench of you.

“Feel so fuckin’ good,” he says against your lips, pace picking up faster. “Knew you would, sweetheart, yeah.”

Embarrassingly you feel almost like you could come apart again with the praise. Bakugou groans once more, and you can hear his grip tighten in the blanket next to your head. His hips buck and flex, wildly uncontrolled now, until he gives one final hard thrust.

His weight pins you down when he relaxes over you, his breath tickling over your shoulder. You find you like the weight of him on you, covering you, like a shield against the rest of the world.

Apt, for a general.

“Better than how you wanted to do it, wasn’t it, Princess?” he asks, smug.

You scoff, but you catch the flash of a white grin in the corner of your vision. There is really no question that he’d had the better of it, this time.

“Knew you’d see it my way,” he says.

Over him, you can hear the flutter of feet outside the door, some muffled discussion. Heat rises to your face when you realize the castle aids most definitely heard you cry out under Bakugou’s ministrations. There will be no doubt of your consummation now, regardless of whether you were observed.

“Nosy fuckin’ perverts,” Bakugou says, rolling off of you. You catch another flicker of his chest with the way his shirt gapes, and he looks doubly smug when he notices.

“Not done yet, angel?” he says.

“I am, thank you.” You flush, embarrassed at having been caught. But Bakugou stretches an arm out to yank you over him, pressing you down over his hips.

Your stomach flutters.

“Give me a couple more minutes, Princess,” Bakugou says, scarlet eyes flashing with heat once more. His hand raises to trail through your hair, catching in the wedding hairstyle they’d pinned you into.

“Five more minutes,” your new husband promises you, with a grin like the devil. “And then we'll give them something to really listen to.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #bakugo x you #character: bakugou katsuki #andie's writing

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norrisainz33 · 22 days ago

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bubble || LN4

☆ summary: internet sleuths find out that lando norris has been flirting with and potentially dating a relatively unknown singer

☆ pairing: lando norris x singer!reader

☆ fc & warnings: zinadelphia & slightly suggestive. you are responsible for the content you consume

☆ requested: nope!

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6, yourbff and 18,345 others

f1gossip: it’s been brought to our attention by an anonymous user that our lando norris has been caught seemingly flirting in the comment sections (for at least the past 24 weeks based off the time stamps) with a small american artist, y/n y/l/n. he’s the only driver that follows her and has been consistently in her comment section hyping her up and calling her things like “gorgeous”, “talented” and “pretty.” what do you all make of this?

view all 653 comments

user1: oh my god lando????

user14: i’ve never once heard of this girl?

user2: how did we not know about this for the past 24 weeks guys wtf

user4: no like seriously…. seems like something we should have known already

user3: wait her music is really good tho 🥹

user7: her song mirrorball??? the girl has some vocals wow

user4: just looked her up and she’s beautiful… i see what he’s seeing

yourbff: screaming my head off at this

user1: and who are you??? do you know y/n??

f1gossip: check your dms yourbff

user5: she’s using him for fame!

user4: considering we all just found out about her…. imma go ahead and say no she’s not

user6: now how do i make this about me 🙂‍↔️

ynuser has added to their story

view all story the replies

user1: ooooo orange or papaya ???

yourbff: girl you fueling the flames with this post 😂💀

ynuser: HAHA i know… i got 24k new followers in the past 2 days since you sent me that post by f1gossip and figured id have some fun with it since there’s no hiding now

yourbff: who knew meeting that guy randomly in europe 6 months ago was going to turn out like this

ynuser: certainly not me girl. remember when i thought he was some weirdo who was just trying to hit on me in the bar??

yourbff: bc he had no rizz but max and p really swooped in and saved him and now look at you 🥹

ynuser: my perfect little no rizz baby boy 🥹 love of my life 🤭

landonorris: it’s papaya baby

ynuser: i couldn’t be too obvious now could i?

landonorris: nah go on then be obvious

ynuser: oh you want me to post you?

landonorris: yeah specifically that one pic you took of us in the mirror last night

ynuser: LANDO that is for OUR eyes only

landonorris: right yes

landonorris: i still think you should post me

ynuser: i don’t know if i want to burst our little bubble yet

landonorris: fair enough baby. you just tell me when! i’ve got paddock passes, pictures, plane tickets — everything lined up for when you’re ready

ynuser: 🥹😭 vegas? we go on our little vacation after im done my tour and you’re done in brazil and then pop the bubble?

landonorris: sounds great to me gorgeous but seriously no pressure

user2: my delusions are working over time

maxfewtrell: i’m trying so hard to defend your privacy and this is what you post

ynuser: what’s wrong with the color orange?

maxfewtrell: y/n

user3: ain’t ever seen you and lando in the same room but i somehow know yall doing it

user4: you’re so pretty and your outfits eat so hard wtf 😭

user9: praying this is a new song lyric idk who these new fans are talking about lando this lando that …. i need a new song

ynuser has made a post

liked by youbff, yourfriend2, yoursibling, landonorris, maxfewtrell, ynupdates, and 54,235 others

ynuser: baby’s first headlining tour was a success! thank you to everyone who came out and sang along with me every night. i love you all dearly 🤍 and for all the newbies here, welcome 🫶🏻

view all 324 comments

user1: oh she’s so cute

user2: starting a y/n fan club rn yall

yourbff: you are making those dreams come true bb girl

ynuser: trying to 🥹

yoursibling: cutie patootie i love you

ynuser: i love you more

user23: the peoples most beautiful princess 🤍

user9: who are all you new people here

user2: lando norris fans. who are you?

user9: a y/n y/l/n fan. who is lando norris?

user2: a formula 1 driver!

user9: race cars?? i did not expect that…

user8: taking note of lando and max in the likes

user4: also taking note of their lack of a comment…. lando has commented on every single one of her posts before the f1gossip post dropped

user16: i was there last night!!! best show ever!!! love you y/n

user19: i’m obsessed with those cherry earrings

landonorris has made a post

liked by maxfewtrell, quadrant, mclarenf1, oscarpiastri, ynuser, alex_albon23, and 823,104 others

landonorris: a much needed break. vegas here we come baby

view all 743 comments

user1: i don’t know where to look ,, at the wh*re in the first pic or the soft launch in the second my god 😮‍💨😍😭😔💀

user9: ok user2… i get it now. also i’ve seen those white shoes in y/n’s posts before it’s def her

user2: omg you’re an icon for this

ynuser: dmn y’all really can identify me by my shoes?

user9: YN WHAT ARE YOU SOING HERE IM SORRY

user2: y/nlando confirmed

maxfewtrell: interesting choice of photos mate

landonorris: thanks! picked them myself

maxfewtrell: yeah clearly

pietra.pilao: 🤍

landonorris: 🧡

user2: i’m speechless

user55: hey lando idk if u heard but there’s a lookalike contest happening in my room tonight. $59 cash prize

oscarpiastri: those aren’t max’s legs 👀

landonorris: you’d be correct

user12: this is monumental

user18: my favorite sinister, evil and orange little gremlin

user14: you’re gonna cook in vegas king

ynuser had posted to her story

view all story replies

yourbff: this dress is eating in a way i didn’t think it would. i’m sorry for doubting you

ynuser: never doubt me 😤

lilyzneimer: had so much fun meeting you at dinner this evening!!! looking forward to spending the weekend with you at mclaren 🫶🏻

ynuser: omg it was so fun getting dinner with you and oscar!! i’m so so so glad to have you as a buddy in the paddock. i was super nervous about it all

lilyzneimer: it can be very overwhelming at times but we’ve got you y/n!!

ynuser: that means so much to me 🥹

user9: mother is mothering … in vegas?????

user12: are you in vegas per chance?! for the formula 1 grand prix?! for lando norris?!

user2: i fr need style tips and grwm’s from you y/n. every time you post an outfit it moves me

landonorris: in my hotel room 😈

ynuser: you got it ☝🏻 now hurry up and get back here

landonorris: trust me im hurrying

user8: i need someone to get you on a magazine cover stat

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6, yourbff and 19,231 others

f1gossip: confirmed! y/n y/l/n, singer songwriter, is in las vegas with lando norris for the las vegas gp. this seems to be their first official weekend out together

view all 327 comments

user2: as someone who has been deeply invested since the beginning (3 weeks ago).. this is everything

user9: my girl 🥹

user10: i truly wonder how in the world they even met… they’re such an interesting pair

user18: mclaren admin please ask him this weekend

user13: that should be me 😭

user24: ok wait guys im at the gp and y/n was walking through the paddock with lily and we waved her down because we had made some lando merch and she was honestly so sweet and stopped and took photos with us and chatted for way longer than she needed to. i truly hope she never changes she’s an angel

user21: this is so wholesome

user23: i fear she’s on track to become the people’s paddock princess in record time

user18: i have no one to send this to who will get it

mclaren has made a post

liked by landonorris, ynuser, maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri, yourbff, and 432,444 others

mclaren: this weekends most requested interview just dropped! make sure to check out the full thing over on the mclaren app 🟠

view all 329 comments

user18: mclaren admin is a y/nlando girly confirmed

maxfewtrell: he’s leaving out the bit where i had to save him from completely bombing

landonorris: 😔 you’re not gonna let me live that down huh

ynuser: idk what would have happened if max didn’t come over and stop you from explaining why you hate fish so passionately

landonorris: babe please not on the public instagram

user2: lando norizz strikes again

landonorris: love when i get asked good questions like this!

user4: king said if one more person asks me abt wdc im gonna lose it. ask me abt y/n instead

user9: this is making it incredibly hard to gatekeep y/n

ynuser: that’s my man 🙂‍↔️

landonorris: damn right it is

user13: the mutual do you know who i am is lowkey so funny

landonorris has made a post

liked by mclaren, ynuser, yourbff, oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell, pierregasly, and 843,238

landonorris: thanks for being nice to me this time vegas!! oh and thanks for coming y/n 😈🏆

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user12: i’m so proud of you lando

user9: wahooooo first race i watched and you won. i think me and y/n are good luck for you

mclaren: incredible drive lando! that’s our winner!!

ynuser: something about seeing you on that podium 😮‍💨

landonorris: oh you like that?

ynuser: yes 🤭

landonorris: alright podium finishes only from now on 😏

user19: oh you two are freaks i just know it

ln4: LFGGGGG

user13: congrats on the win and the hot gf 😭

carlossainz55: congrats lando!! and hi y/n!

ynuser: hi carlos 🤍

maxfewtrell: much better post mate

landonorris: why thank you. i worked hard on this one

user2: a win and a hard launch = double win for me

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

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bisexualiteaa · 7 months ago

Note

actually dying for a cooper howard x vaultie!reader smut where they have some slow burn longing steaminess, but coop thinks she’s too good for him UNTIL she comes in contact with a sex pollen-esque chem and he finally gives in to save her 🥵 please work your magic and elaborate however you want

A Flame in Your Heart

Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)

CW: NSFW like absolutely filthy y’all, you’ve been warned. 💀 unprotected sex, irradiated cream pie, p in v, p0rn w/ plot, slow burn, flirting, cursing, perverted thoughts, dub-con (because of chem usage though consent is asked and given!) rough sex, dirty talk, choking, praise kink, degradation, squirting, mention of fingering, FEELINGS!! Slight deviation from TV series, possible grammar/spelling mistakes, cooper starts off mean but slowly warms up to reader

AN: I absolutely LOVED this request! I was up all night writing down all my ideas and spent all this morning perfecting it, and this has to be my longest one yet! I thank you for your patience anon and my lovely readers as I finally post this! Hope you enjoy and that I have done your ask justice! ❤️

Life outside of the vault was difficult to say the least. You felt hunger and dehydration in ways you’d never experienced before, going out of your way to do desperate things you would normally never do in order to get said food and water. The heat was unbearable, every stretch of land you walked across had a danger lurking around every corner, and worst of all, you’d never felt so alone. You weren’t sure what it was about you, maybe it was because you were new to the surface, maybe it was your nearly perfect skin, but everyone seemed to stare or glare at you when you would walk through. It wasn’t until you’d passed through Filly, meeting Ma June that you realized people didn’t take kindly to people like you. “Vaulties” she called them, an audible disdain in her tone, making you look down to remember you were in your blue and gold Vault-Tec suit. “I’ll be going then, have a nice day!” You said skiddishly, offering her a kind smile before turning and exiting the shop. You just wanted to make friends, why was that so hard up here? So when your eyes set on a man clad in classic Wild West cowboy clothes, watching smoke settle after a stand off, you weren’t sure why but you knew that was who you needed on your side in this world. Before you knew it, your feet were already moving and mouth speaking to him, grabbing his attention.

“I ain’t no charity case sweetheart, I don’t take on strays” The ghoul spoke, his southern drawl making him even more memorable than the marred texture of his skin. You looked to the dog that trailed not far behind him as he walked, changing its pace to keep up with the man. “The dog there with you tells me otherwise” you quipped. “Ain’t my dog” he responded harshly as he continued walking. “I can make it worth your while!” You yelled, making him stop in his tracks for a moment, a scary sight at first before you worked up the nerve to come closer once he turned back to you. “And how you suppose you’d do that?” He asked, and at first you didn’t know what to say, the words leaving your mouth before you could really think of a good enough reason. Did nobody like company anymore these days? “Well…I can be your scavenger! Pretty good at collecting stuff” you offered, shaking your bag and making things rattle around inside to prove it, making him give a huff of a chuckle. “‘f I wanted a pack mule I’d‘ve found a brahman” he shot you down. “Okay, then I can be good company to talk to!” You offered. “They make radios for when I want to listen to someone yack” he shut down once again. “I’m a good cook! Even with shitty supplies, I can make a stew that’d put a smile even on the meanest son of a gun’s face” you said, hopeful that he’d at least take you for something, but you had a feeling he’d probably turn you down again. “Iguana on a stick’s just fine” he said, though he had to admit the stew sounded good. Reminded him of home before all this wasteland bullshit. “Oh, umm…” you said awkwardly, your tone growing quiet and my how it put a sad look in your eyes. The evil part of him liked it, seeing your sweet innocent face all downturned but the part that was still human deep down, the part that hardly ever saw the light of day anymore, had half a mind to let you.

“Got a lotta nerve walkin’ up t’ me, girly. If you somehow been lucky enough that you ain’t met dangerous yet, you’re lookin’ at someone who could put you down before you’d even mutter your last words” he threatened, motioning to the double barreled shotgun in his hands. “I know, I saw it first hand. You hold yourself well, I envy that. I’m new to all of this and just really want someone who can help me hold my own the same way” you explained. “Look, I know I don’t look like much but please just give me a chance” you begged, looking up at him with a fighting spirit in your eyes that he had to admit, he was pretty impressed in seeing in a vaultie. “You help me, I help you, however that ends up being” you offered, standing strong on this and damn if he didn’t see a little bit of himself in you at that. He gave a sigh, tilting his head down before shaking it, not believing himself for the words he was about to say. “Alright, but the minute you start draggin’ you’re out, got me?” He said, and he hated the way his cold heart seemed to pump a little faster upon seeing your eyes light up with joy and a smile stretch to your face. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” You said, opening your arms up to hug him but being met with the barrel of his gun poking your stomach to keep space between you. “I don’t do hugs” he spoke gruffly, making you back up enough to where he’d drop the gun back to his side. “R-Right…sorry” you apologized, embarrassment washing over you but still glad to finally have someone in your company. “C’mon, I ain’t got all day now” he said, motioning you to start walking, so you joined him.

Your travels with him certainly weren’t at all what you were expecting them to be. From being used as bait, to being tied up with rope most of the time you’d traveled together, or being sent in as his scavenger, you weren’t prepared for a lot of the reality you faced with being up on the surface. Most nights made you question why you’d ever left the comfort of the vault, why you’d abandoned a trusty food supply, regulated temperatures, a safe place to sleep that wasn’t riddled with radroaches or had the likely hood of waking up to a raider with a knife at your throat for no reason. Then you would remember the experiment in your vault, why you left that awful place for arguably a worse reality on the surface but at least you had freedom. Out here you were free to say what you want, do what you want, consume what you want so long as you could defend yourself incase that supply wasn’t unclaimed. You’d gotten pretty handy with a gun in the most recent weeks. Cooper, you learned one night was his name, using empty glass bottles as targets to help teach you accuracy and how to hit things from a longer range. In exchange, you came a little more useful than he had first thought. You had some useful stuff on you for trade like chems, ammo and food, were a good extra bag to hold stuff in, and you were a better cook than you’d talked about. Sure you had a tendency to talk too much, and you weren’t great with a gun, but you were getting there.

“Might I suggest takin’ them clothes instead of wearin’ that suit?” He said, making you look at him weird for suggesting you strip a dead raider of their clothes. “Why would I do that…?” You asked, genuinely confused and not sure what he was implying either, he was a hard man to predict. “Because, people see that shit and get real mad. People up here don’t like vaulties or the ones that run ‘em” he said and it made sense, it helped you understand why you kept getting evil glares each time someone would look at you or talk to you. You figured he knew best, so you took the shirt and pants from one of the female raiders, tucking them into your bag to change into at a better time. He gave a chuckle watching you do so, apologizing to the dead body profusely as you took their clothes and whatever valuables they had on them for the betterment of your own survival. You were still so naive, part of him was hoping he could slowly start to break and corrupt your way of thinking, but that was a thought for another time.

Before you knew it, night finally began to fall. The sun setting across the horizon gave the air less of a hot, harsh bite as the temperature began to cool rapidly across the sands of the Mojave. All you managed to grab was a pair of beat up, old jeans and a tank top, so as soon as the sun set, the chill set in. As you both set up camp for the night just outside of an abandoned rest stop, you started a fire to cook some of that stew you talked about being good at. He had to admit, it was pretty damn good, likely the best thing he’s had since before the bombs went off. Though even the kindling fire couldn’t manage to chase the chill away, watching you run your hands up and down your arms to try and warm up some by it. He felt a slight pang in his heart, watching you shiver like that, how your eyes lit up by the blaze of the fire and your hair seemed to be tousled just right. You were pretty, too pretty to be trekking this wasteland, and certainly too pretty to be trekking it with him of all people as your company. Even he had a heart still, as cold as it was, so out of kindness he shrugged his duster from his shoulders, draping it around you. You looked at the fabric pooled around you, pulling it over you better before looking to him as he sat down across from you again. “Ain’t no use if the cold gets ya” he said, making you smile appreciatively at him as you realized what he did. “Thank you” you replied, a slight blush fanning to your cheeks as the chattering of your teeth finally died down and you grew warmer. It smelled like him, sure it had splatters of old dried blood and was rather worn, but it had that gunpowder and smoke smell to it that you associated with him. “Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya” he replied, trying to sound cold but it didn’t come off that way, making you chuckle. “What do I owe you?” You asked, making him fall silent for a moment as he pondered the answer to your question. He looked you over for a second before tipping his hat down to cover his face a bit, the signal that he was about to try and get some sleep. “Just keep watch for a bit, I’ll be up in a few hours” he responded, and while it wasn’t what you were expecting, you’d take it.

He was startled awake a couple hours later when he heard a commotion, you yelling at someone telling them to back off that this place had been claimed. The raider you were up against didn’t seem to like that very much, claiming that wasn’t how it worked up here. The altercation took a turn for the worst when the man reached for his gun but you were quick to fire and kill him before he could let out a shot. A shaky feeling set in your hands and a horrified expression across your face at the realization that you just killed someone. Cooper, who was certainly wide awake now, was rather impressed by your quick timing and precision, coming up behind you to lay a gloved hand to your shoulder. “Well would ya look at that, looks like them lessons been payin’ off after all. How’s it feel?” He asked, looking down at you as you stared at the gun in your hands. “He was yelling at me but…he was aiming at you. I don’t really know what came over me, I didn’t like that he was going to shoot you so I just…I killed him” you said, recounting the encounter to him as if he hadn’t seen it himself. He didn’t really know what to think in that moment as you explained how your mind worked, he was proud for sure at your show of improvement with a gun, yet also touched at the same time. No one ever really looked out for him since he started his bounty hunting, he was a well hated man by many but you defended him without really any reason to. You’d just learned his name not but two weeks ago, and before that he was dragging you around with rope yet you still defended him, had you two really gotten closer in the time that’s passed since? He wasn’t sure, but it was something he could mull over while you were sleeping. “Get some rest vaultie, sun’ll be up soon” he said, knowing you likely wouldn’t get much sleep with the adrenaline still coursing through you, but it was at least worth a try, you two had a long day ahead of you.

When you woke up that next morning, things felt a little different between you two. You weren’t some annoying little dog following him anymore, you were an equal. He no longer looked at you and treated you like you were lower than him as you both set out across the wastelands, he had respect for you. Hell, he even started talking with you now when you were out traveling which was almost unbelievable. You learned through those conversations that he used to be an actor in Wild West themed films, explaining his outfit, and that he was married before the bombs dropped. You of course told him bits and pieces about yourself in exchange, after all it only felt fair but it was also nice to just finally talk to someone after all this time.

When night time fell again you two sat enjoying a meal by the fire together, only rather than across from each other, he sat next to you, making a blush come to your face as you’d smiled sweetly at him. “Glad to know I don’t have germs anymore” you said jokingly, making him chuckle. “Give an old man some credit. It ain’t exactly all peaches and marmalade out here darlin’, even cute can be deadly” he said, the nickname and him calling you cute sending a deeper blush to your cheeks despite knowing it’s just how he spoke. Whether it was the lack of contact with other people for so long, or just his charm you couldn’t quite tell, but it always seemed to have an effect on you. “Just teasin’ you, I get it. I’d tie me up and use me for bait too if I’d been doing this as long as you have. It’s a shit hole out here” you said, making him look at you as you dropped the first curse word he’s ever heard from you. “Well I’ll be damned, either I’m a bad influence or you’re finally growin’ outta that naive shell there, vaultie” Cooper replied, making you laugh as you saw a smirk stretch to his thin, marred lips, the first one you’d seen in a while that wasn’t brought on by drugs, chems or that first sip of a good bottle of alcohol. “Probably both” you quipped, making him chuckle. “Yeah, probably. Been told I ain’t easy to stomach” he said, making you hum. “You’re alright in my book, Coop” you replied with a sweet, genuine smile that matched your tone and was that butterflies you felt in your stomach? Did you just call him Coop? No ones called him that in ages, why did it make his heart start to flutter a bit? “You ain’t so bad yourself, vaultie” he responded, still affording you that small smile before turning back to his food. “Keep making food this good and I just might have to keep you around” he joked, making you giggle and break the slightly tense silence. “It’s not much but I certainly try. I’ll definitely make sure to stay good at it, I like traveling with you” you said, unintentionally coming off flirtatious and fuck there it goes again, that feeling in his chest and his stomach like he needed to hit his inhaler but he felt great. What were you doing to him?

“Hey, if it isn’t too much can I ask you a sort of…personal question?” You asked, holding the beat up bowl in your hands as you looked over at him. This was normally the part where he would say no, absolutely not, he wasn’t here to be questioned on his personal matters. Yet, with you, it was different. Ever since last night he hasn’t been so on edge with you, it was like he’d warmed up to you. “Depends on what you’re askin’ there, sweetheart” he said, the nickname once again making you blush. “Do you…miss them? Your wife and daughter?” You asked, not sure if it was a good subject or good question to ask but after finding out, you were genuinely curious. He looked down at his bowl again, thinking of the proper response to your question. The old him would have been defensive, told you it was none of your business, but now? He wasn’t sure. “Ain’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about ‘em. About the way I ran out on ‘em when them bombs dropped” he answered, making you give him a sad look as genuine guilt filled his tone. This was the most honest and open he’s been with you this whole time. “I feel guilty. Not sure if I feel guilty for runnin’ out and leavin’ ‘em behind or guilty for the way I ran out, been tryin’ t’ figure that out for quite a while now and I still ain’t sure” he added, and you sympathized with that. Everyone has regrets, things they’ve done in the past that they aren’t proud of, people up here were no different in that aspect. “Well, in the short time I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve come to understand that everything you do has a valid reason behind it. So even if you feel it was a shitty thing to do, you obviously had a reason for doing so. No one can blame you for trusting your gut, and I don’t think you should blame yourself for doing so” you responded, your hand falling to his as a comforting gesture, your words ringing in his head almost as if you’d opened something in his mind, something he’d never really gave himself to think about before. He looked down at your hand that rested on his, noticing the way you didn’t flinch away from him like others did, the way you were brave enough to walk up to him, talk to him, *trust* him when he made it very clear that you shouldn’t. It was smaller than his, softer for sure, but warm all the same, then he looked up to see that caring look in your eyes and smile on your face that told him that you cared. “Guess you’re right, still wonder sometimes if it was the right choice to make” he replied. “I understand. Everyone has regrets, we all look at the past and hold at least something that we’ve done before in regret, it’s what makes us human” you said, making him give a huff as a chuckle. “You got anybody?” He asked, making you look down as you moved your feet along the dirt. “An ex-husband, but not anyone I really care about, no. My parents passed a few years before the bombings and he and I split up when I caught him cheating on me with some other woman in the vault..” you explained, not sure why it hurt you to tell the tale still, but you felt it was only fair considering what you’d asked of him to share. “Sorry t’ hear that” Cooper said, making you chuckle weakly, a somber look coming to your face that made his heart wrench. “I haven’t exactly been in love since, and considering he and I split up just a little over ten years ago, really says something I guess, huh?” You asked, trying to laugh to bring up the mood, knowing you sounded pathetic. “He was the fool, not you darlin’. He was the one skippin’ out on one hell of a woman” Cooper said, making you look to him and blush a bit as you gave a chuckle at his response.

“Thanks” you replied appreciatively and with a smile before casting your gaze down to see your hands were still connected and it left you blushing harder with embarrassment, you’d been holding his hand this entire time without realizing it. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I have I-“ “relax vaultie” he cut you off, pushing your hand back down onto his to assure you that he was far from uncomfortable. “It’s…rather nice actually” he admitted, making you feel relieved but your heart fluttered in your chest from it. A thick tension soon began to set in between you both after that night, something of an unspoken, kindling romance beginning to develop. “Then there it can stay” you said, making him smile softly at you, tipping his hat at you as a silent thank you.

Months passed on like this, where you’d spend the days scavenging, picking the land for its resources you could find and hunting bounties by day, then spending your nights by a fire growing closer and closer with every passing day. Through your shared meals, jokes, deep conversations, and plenty of near death experiences, you started to notice your fondness of the ghoul you traveled with. The way you’d hang onto his words with that southern accent that seemed to pull at your heart strings, or the way you’d go out of your way to stand between him and a stray bullet. You’d helped him on more than one occasion in getting out of a sticky spot, or getting him the stuff he needed to keep from turning feral. In return, he started to notice he was feeling the same towards you. There was this sudden need to keep you safe, to do nicer things for you, to speak better towards you, even flirt with you at times. Some nights there’d be so much tension in the air, it’s a miracle you haven’t jumped each other yet. Though in his eyes, as much as his heart yearned for you, he knew you were too good for him. You’d been hurt before, and he had a reputation for hurting people, feeling undeserving of even just the sweet smiles and company you afford him even now. You didn’t need someone like him, you needed a good man, someone who didn’t kill for a living, someone who could treat you right, someone who didn’t look the way he did. You were soft and warm, he was rough and cold, though he supposed that’s where the term “opposites attract” came from. So even when he was a whole bottle deep, he was sure to hold his tongue to a certain point.

Some of those nights around the fire were spent sober, others not so much, and this night happened to be one of those nights spent under the influence. You two had stumbled across a mini-mart, doing your best to out run the radstorm that had been trailing you guys for hours, coming in just to find whatever supplies you could to make it through the next week and possibly hunker down for the night. So imagine your surprise when you seemed to have found the largest chem stache you’d both ever laid eyes on. “Coop! Come here, you gotta see this” you said, making him run towards you to make sure you weren’t hurt or in trouble. His nerves were eased once he saw you, fully intact. “Tell me I’m not seeing shit” you said, pointing to all of the supplies sitting in a box on the table, joined by other supplies around it. You both looked at each other in complete and utter disbelief, this would keep you stocked for months, maybe even a whole year if you conserved it well. “Well ain’t that just the prettiest fuckin’ sight” he said. There was no way a horde of chems this large and this valuable was just completely unprotected you reasoned, so you routed around the place, scoping out for any raiders, straggling traders or ferals who happened to still be around. It was as if heaven was shining down on you both as you found no one around, seemed like no one had been here for days. So you did the most logical thing anyone would do in this situation. Stuff each of your bags to the brim of drugs of all varieties! Seeing as you had food, chems and even some clean water and alcohol lying around, Cooper locked and barricaded the door shut, proposing it could be a good spot to sleep for the night. With a radstorm approaching, it was best to have a roof over your heads to keep out the rain and potential radiation sickness that came with it. “This is the closest fuckin’ thing to a slice of heaven I’ve seen in ages” he said, aside from you is what played in his mind but he couldn’t speak that out loud, no matter how much he wanted to. “You said it!” you replied, and it’s even better with you here you thought, but thought it best to keep it to yourself. He plopped down on the couch, kicking his feet up to rest on the small table that seemed to be in shambles, enjoying a tape that was playing on the TV that he was surprised to still see functioning. “Holy shit, this thing still works?” You asked, amazed to see working technology out in the wastelands, sitting next to him as you watched it with him. He gave a smirk at your reaction, thinking it was cute the way your eyes would light up when you got all excited over something. Deep down it made him want to give you everything you laid eyes on like that just to see it pointed towards him. “Guess so” he replied, enjoying your excitement only to see you turn and look his way, which was his signal to stop staring holes into you before he gets caught. “I dunno about you baby doll, but I ain’t about to spend tonight sober with this stache sittin’ here ‘n front of us” he said, making you laugh as he routed through all the different drugs and chems til he found what he was looking for.

In the process of searching through it all, a small metal box fell to the floor at your feet. It looked like a box of mentats only the design was different, instead of the characteristic green and white box was a red one covered with hearts labeled DN-Chem. You supposed the worst that could happen was turn into the man sitting next to you, which you figured wasn’t the worst fate to succumb to all things considered, so you went against all better judgement and said fuck it, popping two of the mentat like chems and chasing it with the vodka he’d found to wait for it to take effect. “The hell is DN?” He asked, looking at the box, wondering what it was you took. “Don’t know, guess we’ll find out here soon because I took two” you said, taking another sip from the bottle of vodka he passed your way, and he gave a chuckle as you handed it back to him. “You come a mighty long way, little lady” he commented before setting the metal pill box down. He took the bottle from you, taking a swig, then placing one of the small viles into his inhaler before taking a hit of it then lying back, breathing a sigh of relief as it and the alcohol entered his system like the perfect remedy to any ailment. As about a half an hour rolled by, you waited for the high to set in but it never came, instead you were just getting hot, like really hot. There weren’t any windows open, and it was night time so you shouldn’t be this uncomfortably hot for how it was but you felt like you were on fire. “Shit, it’s hot as hell in here…” you complained, shaking off your jacket that you’d picked off of some raider a few weeks back, making him look to you curiously. “Lightweight” he quipped, making you chuckle. “Accept I don’t feel anything, I just feel hot” you said, making him hum with intrigue before turning back to the TV. “Give it some time, you’re new to all this. ‘m sure your body is wonderin’ what the hell you just put in it” he said, and he had a good point, maybe it was just a side effect of not doing them so often compared to his every day use.

As time went on, you began to notice the way your eyes couldn’t help but be glued to him, more specifically glued to the way his legs were now spread as he sat back. You wondered to yourself what he looked like beneath all that cowboy get up, what his reaction would be like to see you getting on your knees for him and slotting yourself between his spread legs. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of such inappropriate thoughts, but what you couldn’t stop no matter how hard you tried was the feeling of arousal beginning to pool in your panties. Sure he flirted with you every now and again, but you doubt he felt towards you the same way you did for him. To him you were sure you were likely more akin to a pet than a friend, useful and nice to have around, but not anything further. At least so you thought. You’d rather hoped you were wrong in assuming so, that maybe he saw you the same way you saw him. You bit your lip as you tried bouncing your leg to relieve the ache between your thighs, a light pink dusting your face and neck even up to the tips of your ears, but nothing worked. Even as you closed your eyes, all you could picture was you laid out on the couch beneath him, or bent over it with him behind you, or you riding him on it. “Been awful quiet. You doin’ alright over there, sweetheart?” Cooper asked you, and the audible whimper you let out from the nickname left you completely embarrassed. You clasped a hand over your mouth, god you were horrified but he gave a grin and a chuckle in response. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me all the sudden. I feel so…weird?” you said, unsure if that was really the proper word to explain it but it was the only way you could really word it off the top of your head with how much your brain felt as if it was turning to mush. “Ya took some chems, it’s gonna feel a bit fuzzy” he said, trying to assure you that feeling a little funny was normal, but this? This didn’t feel normal, not even for a chem high. You tried your best to swallow harshly, doing everything you could to try and relieve the dry ache you felt in your throat at the moment upon looking at him. You grabbed the bottle of vodka, taking a few sips but even that couldn’t grant you bliss from it. The throbbing in your core was driving you absolutely insane. You swore up and down that it was like you could feel your heartbeat in your chest, stomach, and in your cunt all at the same time. “No, this is different…I don’t think what I took was a normal chem, Coop…” you said, trying not to panic at the effects that were setting in but god you felt like you were absolutely feral. He turned to look at you, watching as you clamped your thighs together and the red that fell over your face. “I feel like an animal in heat” you said bluntly, making him go into a near coughing fit as you took him off guard. However that piqued his interest enough to pick up the little metal box again to see what it was you took. “I ain’t ever heard of a chem that does that, was that DN shit the only stuff you took?” He asked, growing slightly concerned for you and whether he had a possible horde of laced chems, or just an extremely horny woman on his hands. Speaking of hands, you were lost in thought staring at them, at the way they gripped the couch like you wanted him to grip your thighs, at the way they looked in those leather gloves he always wore. You wondered how it would feel wrapped around your throat, or how it would feel if his fingers were buried deep inside of you. Shit. This was getting out of control.

“Hey, ya with me still?” He asked, snapping to try and get your attention back on the matter at hand, making you shake your head yes as you broke from your perverted thoughts. “Is that DN shit the only thing you took?” He asked again, making you shake your head yes once more, because you knew damn well your voice was going to betray you the moment you tried to speak. That had to be it, it was the only thing that was different out of it all and the only thing he’d never heard of before. He knew it wasn’t the vodka either because he was drinking it with you, so if it was affecting you, it would have affected him and it hadn’t.

It took him a minute to put two and two together before he finally realized the abbreviations stood for Date Night, reading the instructions and effects on the inside of the tin’s lid. “Shit..” he said as he read it, realizing this was a hand made thing thrown into the bunch by whoever was running this place. “Did you read the lid before you popped them pills?” He asked, making you go wide eyed. As if this couldn’t get any fucking worse, this shit show could have been avoided had you just read the inside of the lid. “There was instructions?? Oh my god…what the fuck did I take?” You asked, concerned for yourself and the tone he had while reading it. “Somethin’ that the creator of it called Date Night. Looks like it’s a…well looks like it’s a handmade sex chem” he said, making you cover your face with your hands out of sheer embarrassment, you’d never wanted to die out in a radstorm more than you did right now. “Please tell me you’re fucking joking, cooper…” you whined, watching him read it more. “How much of it did you take?” He asked, almost scared to know and you were scared to know why. “Two?” You replied, making him whistle at that as he read it. “Fuckin’ hell sugar..” he said through a chuckle, and that nickname made a shiver run through you, sending electric bolts straight to your throbbing cunt. You did your best to bite back the whimper. “You’re only s’possed take one, and with you bein’ new t’ all this, I wouldn’t have taken more than half” he said, making you just wish you could just dig a hole and die in it already. “Fuck me…wait, shit! N-Not literally fuck me I- well I mean I’d like if you did but…FUCK! Forgive me Cooper, I’m so sorry, I can hardly think straight” you said, making him chuckle. “Well sweetheart, I think you and I both know there’s only one good fix for this situation” he said, making you whimper pathetically at the thought, your thighs squeezing together even more as you tried to fight to stay sane. Your eyes cast downwards to his lap once more, seeing the tent forming in his pants, clearly you weren’t the only one all worked up here. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to, Coop. I can run off and take care of myself if it makes you uncomfort-“ you rambled but before you could finish, his hand cupped the side of your face, pulling you in for a long awaited kiss. You moaned into it without meaning to, feeling the way your body immediately relaxed upon wrapping your arms around him with no hesitation as the sweet innocent kiss turned passionate and dirty rather quickly.

“I won’t lie t’ you, doin’ this with you has passed my mind more times than I’d care to admit, but I don’t wanna cross that line unless you really want this” he said, looking into your eyes and making sure that this was truly what you wanted, that you felt the same way he did. “Coop, I know I’m under the influence of whatever the fuck this drug is, but trust me when I say, I’d be just as good with it sober. Been thinking about it for probably just as long as you have, if I’m honest with you. I want this, I want you and right now I want you so fucking bad that I might lose my mind if you don’t fuck me” you answered bluntly, taking him by surprise at just the sheer amount of absolute filth that left your otherwise innocent mouth, making him chuckle at your use of curse words and how desperate you were for him. “That so sugar?” He asked with a grin, enjoying teasing you at your neediest moments, including now. “God yes, Cooper please..” you begged, nearly moaning in reply and he’d spent time mulling over it before, denying himself the chance but just as the chem stache was a pot of gold, he took this as one of the best opportunities being placed in his lap by whatever higher power existed out there, making him waste no time in kissing you once more. “Good, because I don’t think I’d be able to hold myself back once we’ve started” he said, and the idea made you moan. “Don’t want you to hold back, want all of you” you said, and your wish was his command.

By the time your brain could finally catch up with you again, your clothes were strewn out all around you, your tank top hanging over the back of the couch, your jeans thrown haphazardly on the arm rest behind you, his pants on the floor, his hat on the table and shirt and duster having fallen somewhere behind the couch. By now, you’d already cum on his fingers twice, and on his cock once, this was your fourth round and this shit still had you on fire. “Yes!! Oh fuck, Cooper!” you moaned as your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him as close to you as you could get, your fingers digging crescent shapes and puffy red lines into his back that unfortunately he knew wouldn’t stay long thanks to his ability to heal stupidly fast. “Doin’ so good for me, baby doll. Look so pretty like this for me, all splayed out like a needy little whore” he praised and degraded through his groans, making you moan and roll your eyes into the back of your head at the praise mixed with degradation as his cock was drilling deep inside you like tonight was all you guys had. “Yeah, you like that, huh sweet thing? Like it when I tell you how good it feels and call you names?” He asked, making you nod your head yes because there wasn’t a single thought in that brain of yours other than his name, which you spoke like a mantra. “Never knew such a sweet lil’ thing like you would be such a dirty little minx. Fuck…enough to make a man like me go feral, ya know that?” he said, making you giggle as you moved his free hand up to your throat, urging him to choke you, and he groaned at the sight. Your kiss swollen lips all puffy and shining with spit, your cheeks dusted a constant pink that grew darker anytime his cock brushed that spot deep inside that made you cling to him, your eyes half lidded, looking up at him like he was your savior. It made him absolutely rock hard knowing you’d pick him over anyone else in this god forsaken wasteland. “My, you are just a little freak, ain’t you? Oh we are gonna have fun together, you and me honey” he promised, squeezing your throat tight enough to restrict your airflow but not enough to hurt or cause any damage. Just enough to get that puddle of a brain of yours all fuzzy as you got closer to your fourth orgasm of the night. “Cooper…’m so close, so close please!!” You begged, feeling the heavy drag of his cock as he pounded into you, leaving you damn near screaming as it nudged your cervix and that spongy little bundle of nerves deep inside. “Go on honey, I gotchya. Let go for me, wanna see those pretty faces and hear those pretty noises you make” he said, angling his hips just right to hit that spot over and over again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck I’m gonna cum again, I-“ you warned before your moans rose in pitch as your walls clamped around him, gushing on his cock as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your body arched off the couch, stars filling your vision for a moment as you felt your release gush out and coat your inner thighs, screaming his name like it was your only chance at salvation. “Well ain’t I just the damn luckiest man in the wastelands right now, got me a pretty little vaultie and she’s a gusher” he said, making you whimper at his teasing but judging by the way he emptied himself inside you for the second time, you took it as a sign that he liked that about you. “Holy shit, I-I didn’t know I could do that” you said, thoroughly shocked with what your brain and body were doing as they almost seemed to almost be working against each other. “Do it again for me” he said, grabbing you and moving you both to where you were straddling him this time. His hands rested on your hips, helping guide you as you speared yourself on his dick with ease from how absolutely soaked you were, making you both throw your head back and moan. “Now that’s a damn good sight” he said, making you lean in to kiss him once more as his hands helped you start and keep a steady rhythm with your hips. It was definitely going to be a long night, but one you two have been needing for months, maybe even longer.

It’s a good thing ghouls have remarkable recovery time, because in order to finally get you sated and back to normal, you both had to spend all night going at it. Granted, it was aided by the mix of pent up sexual tension and pent up sexual frustration, but it was dawn before you both had gotten to a point where you could even *try* and fall sleep. First few times was on the couch between missionary, doggy and you riding him, next was you bent over it, with your pretty legs spread and ass in the air for him. Then, you used the arm rest of the couch as a pillow beneath your hips as he stood up while you laid out on the couch. He liked that one a lot for the way your tits would bounce with each and every forceful thrust into you, jolting your body. After that, it was done standing up with your back pressed against a wall, your legs and arms wrapped around him to keep him deep inside of you and fill you til he had nothing left to give you. From that point on, the rest of the night was all a hormone-hazed blur, but you knew well that he took care of you. You woke up unbelievably sore, your joints aching in places that you had no idea could even ache, a swollen, angry throb between your legs for the harsh, almost punishing treatment to your pussy followed by bruises, bite marks, scratch marks, hand prints etc. littered your skin as you woke up curled into Cooper’s side. You gave a gravelly groan as the sun shone in your eyes through the windows, making him chuckle at the way you were such a ray of sunshine except in the morning. Coming to learn that you absolutely *hated* mornings. Though you suppose you started to enjoy them more since traveling with him. “Mornin’ sunshine” he said coyly, making you groan disapprovingly at the way the sun was in your eyes, making you hold your hand up to cast a shadow on your face and grant you some relief. “Morning” you answered, your voice hoarse and half gone from sleep and all your activities that transpired the previous night. “Ain’t that a pretty sight” he said, turning and seeing you curled up to him, naked, your hair all messy from sleep and the hickeys and bite marks littering your skin, making you chuckle. “Last night was definitely something, can’t believe you’ve been holding all *that* out on me” you joked, making him give a dry laugh. “Could say the same thing about you, sugar. Had no idea that mind a yours could be so filthy. You’re a wild thing to party with, lil’ lady” he teased, sliding his arm around you to keep you close, making you hum as you lay soft, appreciative kisses to his collarbone and chest. “You’re fun too, and thank you for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry that it ended up happening the way that it did, I wanted to work up the courage and tell you some other way, I really did, but I guess life had other plans” you said making him chuckle as he saw you blush when he kissed your head. “Drunk words are sober thoughts they say, so I’d say I made out pretty good. But don’t sweat it, not sure how I deserved someone as good as you, but it’s good to know I ain’t as hard to stomach as most people say” he said, pulling you in for a soft, heartfelt kiss. “I think you are just perfect, Cooper” you said, your hand resting on his scarred chest as you looked at him with that gaze he swore he’d do anything to see pointed his way.

“You really wanna be my girl?” He asked softly, sounding shocked and with some self doubt still lacing his tone, but he had to be sure this was what you wanted outside of the drug’s effects. He cared for you deeply, in a way that he hasn’t felt in a very long time, but maybe you were just the right person for him to finally open his heart up to. His question made you giggle as your heart fluttered in your chest with excitement. “I absolutely do, I meant it when I said it last night, I mean it just as much now. I think we’ve danced around it for long enough, don’t you?” you replied, making him smile the most genuinely happy smile you’ve seen him wear since you’d met. “Just checkin’” he said, before laying a sweet kiss to your lips, wishing every morning could be like this one. Maybe it could, now that you were here with him.

#fallout x reader #fallout smut #fallout #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #sole survivor #cooper howard x you #the ghoul #the ghoul smut #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #asks

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thewisecheerio · 5 months ago

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Messmer's actually terrible at his job. (affectionate)

Messmer is a fascinating villain, because he is strangely compassionate. I would go so far as to argue that this same compassion that is so at odds with his villainy is the very thing that drove him to become that villain in the first place. Hang with me; this is a long post.

Spoilers for Elden Ring DLC. Obviously.

Messmer tells us himself that his purpose is to purge all those stripped of the grace of gold. "Yet...my purpose standeth unchanged. Those stripped of grace of gold shall all meet death...in the embrace of Messmer's flame." We can piece together who gave him this genocidal purpose from his armor set's description, which tells us directly that he's working on his mother's behalf *and also* taking all the blame for it.

So he's playing war criminal on Marika's behalf. And I do mean playing. I'm not downplaying the fact that he is a war criminal; he has murdered on entire people. But here's the thing: he's *terrible* at playing the sole part of the spiteful, hateful overlord. He's *awful* at reveling in war and its victories.

Why? Empathy.

Messmer is strangely empathic for what could have otherwise been a cut-and-dry villain:

1. His relationship with Gaius, an Albinauric: We learn from Gaius's Remembrance that he was Messmer's bestie. We also know that Gaius was an Albinauric both from his armor as well as the location "Albinauric's Hut" in the direction he comes from at the beginning of his fight. Albinaurics are despised by the Golden Order, but Messmer didn't seem to care. In fact, he cared so little that he gave Gaius command of either a huge chunk or perhaps his entire army, second only to him. And what is given as the basis of this friendship? The fact that they were "both cursed from birth", i.e. a mutual understanding of what it is to be despised. They're trauma bonded because they have empathy for each other's predicament.

2. His relationship with the Jar people: Even though the Jar people were used as weapons of war against his own people, he doesn't seem to resent them. How do we know? There is a hospital where the Jars and their innards are being cared for in the Storehouse, a stone's throw away from where Messmer spends all his time. There are even a few baby Jars running around in it. Strange thing to do to what is essentially an enemy of your people, unless you consider them to also be victims of the same conflict.

3. His relationship with his soldiers: Messmer shares his own flame with his army. Yeah, that absolutely could be interpreted as a utilitarian move for the sake of war. Power up the troops, boost your chance at victory. But it's a strange choice when he could have just armed them in the traditional way of handing them sharp, pointy objects and pointing in the desired direction of stabbing. Instead, arming your soldiers with your own power could also be interpreted as something you do when you care about their survival and are potentially working directly with them to ensure it.

4. The mourning of people who betray him: Speaking of his soldiers, Messmer gets betrayed by at least a few of them. We learn this from the ashes of Andreas and Huw. Huw's ashes further tell us that Messmer *mourned their loss* as brothers-in-arms. Weird thing to do to someone who has betrayed you, unless you care very deeply about them to begin with.

5. The implications of the Storehouse: Even though he is actively genociding Hornsent on Marika's orders, he somehow has preserved an entire library of their history. At first, I thought this was maybe just British Museum vibes: steal all the artifacts and refuse to give them back. (And that could still be a correct interpretation.) But in context of the rest of these points, if you're truly hellbent on erasing a culture, why would you bother to preserve any of it? Would you not burn the libraries along with the people? It's a fairly common thing to do in our world's wars--destroy the art and history to ensure full erasure. And yet, it seems he can't even bring himself to avoid some small amount of sympathy for the people he was explicitly tasked with killing. If you really *think* about the basis for his sympathy for Marika, this does make a lot of sense. Messmer is following Marika's orders because he knows about what the Hornsent did to the Shaman. Wouldn't it then also be the case that once Marika's reign became nothing but genocide, i.e. an exact reversal of what was done to her people, he would have the same kind of sympathy for them? Perhaps this is a form of harm reduction in the only way he could square with what he thinks is his purpose.

6. His own self-hatred: Messmer despises his own flames, which we learn from the Messmer's Orb description. If you were happy to be Doing a Genocide, would you not celebrate your weapons of war? Wouldn't you take pride in them as tools of power? Unless, of course, you're not actually as happy as we think and maybe having regrets and come to be filled with severe self-hatred. Woops.

So then, if Messmer is this guy running around with a lot of Big Feelings (and probably a deep need for a Prozac prescription), why does he even agree to this genocide in the first place? Isn't that an *odd* choice for someone who seems to care pretty deeply about people, even people despised by his family's governing order? Why does he carry out these orders even to the point of developing a deep self-hatred?

This is where Messmer's sympathy, one of his best aspects, also becomes his fatal flaw.

I mentioned above in 5 that Messmer has access to information about both sides of this conflict. As much as he might have sympathy for everyone around him--including weapons used against the Shaman like the Jars--that means he *also* has sympathy for the Shaman. So if you have sympathy for the other side and sympathy for your side, and you are raised by your own side, then what is the natural outcome? Your side wins. If you must choose a side, then you fight on behalf of Child Soldier Fostering Mother Marika. She raised you, after all. It's inevitable.

In the end, that same sympathy he seems to extend to others also is what causes him to do war crimes. Out of an abundance of sympathy for what happened to the Shamans, he agrees to take up arms.

At the end of the day, he's still a villain that needs to be stopped so that he'll stop oppressing an entire people on behalf of his mother's misguided attempts at revenge. But making his reasoning to agree to become that villain in the first place *empathy* of all things? Fascinating.

#elden ring #elden ring dlc #elden ring sote #elden ring spoilers #elden ring sote spoilers #elden ring dlc spoilers #shadow of the erdtree #shadow of the erdtree spoilers #messmer #messmer the impaler

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silversurfersx · 2 months ago

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twin flames | oscar piastri

oscar piastri × bsf!reader smau

summary: in which the reader and oscar are so close people think they're dating

warnings: fluff overload

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and others

yourusername: happy birthday to my best friend ☺️🥳🥳, sorry I couldn't spent it with you, hope you'll be back soon for some more late night shenanigans 🙌 😏

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oscarpiastri: was the body slam really necessary?

yourusername: it was, you know what you did

oscarpiastri: I stand by my point

yourusername: now you lost your right for bday muffins

oscarpiastri: oh no... how will I survive?? Right by not eating them

yourusername: I will not be standing for these insults. I was trying to be nice, but you do not understand my hard work to make this post one of kindness

landonorris: really osc, I raised you better than this!

oscarpiastri: you didn't raise me?!?

user1: what is going on in the house of commons?!?!

user2: fr!

user3: I thought this was meant to be wholesome birthday post, but this is escalating quickly

user4: user3 this is how you know that they're best friends...

user5: awww, thyre adorable🥰🥰

charles_leclerc: happy birthday oscar!!!

yourusername posted a story

oscarpiastri: if I apologise, can I get one?

yourusername: I'll think about it 🤔

yourusername posted a story

oscarpiastri: 🥰

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, logansargeant and others

yourusername: OSCOOOOOO!!!!! my bsf is a race winner (who celebrated his podium w/ Lewis Hamilton 🤭)

tagged: oscarpiastri, lewishamilton

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oscarpiastri: thank you y/n/n, glad you were here for it all (liked by yourname)

yourusername: I'm so happy I was too, I'm sure my outfit was part of your success 🥰

oscarpiastri: I'm sure it was, haha

landonorris: oi what about me? You mention lewis but not me?

yourusername: oh shit lando, I totally forgot, I got blinded by osco's win and celebrating with sir lewis hamilton 😅

landonorris: wow...

user12: congrats oscar piastri!!!

user13: I'm still sad over the fact how he won, but still congratulations to oscar 🥳

user14: fr, he deserved better

user15: not lando being completely ignored, haha

user16: after what he pulled, he deserves this user17: if I were him, I wouldn't have let oscar through yourusername: yeah, but you weren't, so get lost user18: y/n defending her boys 🥰

lewishamilton: well done, oscar 👏 (like by yourusername)

yourusername: did sir lewis hamilton just commented on my post 👀🤭😦

user19: am I the only one wondering what they were on slide 6?

yourusername: watching a film, cuddling and eating pizza in our pyjamas 😊

oscarpiastri: Well that was unexpected but we'll take it. Thanks everyone

tagged: yourusername

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user24: future world champion right here, haha

user25: kimi raikkonen 2.0 lol

yourusername: why do you take pictures of sleeping people, stalker

oscarpiastri: like you don't have a whole folder of me in your gallery yourusername: 👀

user26: LET'S GOOOOO!!!

user27: the allegations are getting harder and harder to deny...

user28: mate, c'mon...

yourusername posted a story

#formula 1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris #lewis hamilton #formula one #formula one x reader #f1 smau #op81

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loljaeyunz · 3 months ago

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𝐒𝐔𝐍 & 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 | 𝐏𝐒𝐇, 𝐒𝐉𝐘

𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗎𝗉 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗆 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗈𝗂𝗅, 𝗎𝗇𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗅𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋.

the sun burns bright, alone and bold, lights up the moon with its endless gold.

READ HERE!

PAIRING: neglected prince!sunghoon x princess!reader

SUMMARY: park sunghoon, the forsaken prince of the south, had always lived in the shadows of jaeyun's favor. but then you arrived. your presence ignited a flame within him that he had long thought extinguished, and he became profoundly attached to you.

but, when the news of your marriage to jaeyun, the very bastard who had usurped everything sunghoon held dear—reached him, his world shattered once again. now, consumed by helplessness and bitter longing, he understands that no matter how desperately you both cling to each other, you are slipping through his fingers. there is nothing he can do but watch as the love you share is slowly pulled away, knowing that no amount of trying can change the fate that’s already been written. but still, he is willing to try.

GENRE: royalty, love triangle, forbidden love, angst, smut

WORD COUNT: 8k

RELEASE DATE: 12th september

so could the moon can gleam with its lover, stars, their light a whisper of sun's scars.

READ HERE

PAIRING: crown prince!jaeyun x princess!reader

SUMMARY: spending years loving someone who will never see you in the same light is a quiet kind of pain, one that lingers and deepens with time. it is a pain that hurts jaeyun, like a lonely moon forever chasing the night sky, knowing it will never reach the stars. you are always so close to him, yet you remain just out of reach, forever distant. he can only watch as you give your heart and love to another—his brother—while he is left to bear the silent ache of unfulfilled longing.

GENRE: royalty, love triangle, arranged marriage, unrequited love, brother rivalry, angst, smut, infidelity (?)

WORD COUNT: 15-20k

RELEASE DATE: tba

TAGLIST: send an ask or comment on this post! only 18+ pls.

a/n: sorry for dumping my shit here but this fic has been sitting in my docs since last year and i think its time to publish. sunghoon's part is already written, but i need to revamp it before the release date. then, i'll dive into jake's part, which im really excited about because all the crazy shit happens there

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen angst #jake smut #sim jake smut #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen series

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cinnamorollcrybaby · 27 days ago

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i am living for some angst 👀

especially some satoru angst

Hold me. Console me.

Tags: Satoru x fem!Reader, angst, hurt/comfort, depictions of poor mental health, depiction of a panic attack, Satoru’s a little bit of an asshole here.

An: Same… same. Before you read this and blame me for how fucked this story is, know that one of my moots (cough. cough. @theuniversesnepobaby cough.) was sending me sad angsty edits last night. this is partially her fault too.

Satoru was normally a very doting and attentive boyfriend. He’s the type to beg to be in your presence. He’d kill to feel your touch against his skin. “Casual” isn’t a word in his dictionary. When he loves, he loves loudly.

So when he got quiet with his love, your body started to fill with a sense of dread. Cold and bitter feelings crawled their way between you two. No longer did you two laugh until you were out of breath and red in the face. No longer did he surprise you with gifts or try to scare you when you’re unaware of his presence.

His strong arms hadn’t wrapped around you in so long. The ruthless chill of being utterly alone plagued you, while Satoru seemed fine. He was even taking on extra hours at his job. So many nights he didn’t come back until nearly midnight.

How could he not see what’s happening? How could he not notice how much you’re drowning?

“I’m going out.” His words are flat with no care put into them. He’s telling you because he feels as if it’s obligatory — not because he doesn’t want you to worry.

“Where are you going?” So many times have you tried to reach out. It was as if you two were passing back and forth a candle of your relationship. You had ignited the flame and passed it to him so many times, but each time, he snuffs it out without a second thought — leaving you in the dark. Maybe one more time, you metaphorically light the candle in hopes to kinder your relationship…

“Out.” Flame snuffed.

“Oh.” He’s done it so many times, but it hurts just as bad each and every time. Being single wouldn’t hurt this bad. At least you wouldn’t be getting rejected by your own boyfriend on a daily basis.

“See ya.” He doesn’t even give you a second glance as he grabs his coat and saunters out the door. Another night spent alone. Another night filled with a barely eaten tv dinner and a shitty reality tv show droning on in the back while you doomscroll on your phone.

You two use to watch these reality tv shows together and laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Satoru would hold you so close to his body, and he’d whine anytime you tried to adjust. When was the last time that happened? You never suspected the end of affectionate gestures would come while you two were still in a relationship.

You check Geto’s story on instagram. Sometimes, you’d catch small glimpses of Satoru in the back. Sometimes they were at a cafe or an arcade together. Tonight, it seemed as though Suguru was at very packed party scene.

You hold your breath in your lungs as you rewatch the story again and again — searching for a white head of hair. Your boyfriend makes it too easy for you to stalk him. Though, it feels like a fitting punishment for the turmoil he’s put you through.

No Satoru in sight. You sigh quietly before you check Shoko’s story. It was less likely that Satoru would be captured there, but he has made his appearances in the past. It seemed like tonight Shoko wasn’t present at whatever rager Suguru was at. She posted a picture of her beautifully written notes. She must be studying.

Nanami never posts on his story, so you don’t even bother going to check his barren profile. Haibara never features Satoru in his stories, so you skip his as well. This leaves you with one last option.

Your hand is a little shaky as you click on Utahime’s story. You don’t know when it started, but your cheeks and ears were wet with tears already. Your body had some sort of sick sixth sense for knowing when something was wrong, and something was terribly wrong.

You had always had your little insecurities about Utahime ever since Satoru indulged that he had a small crush on her back in high school. Of course, these were just fleeting thoughts. Up until recently, you knew with full confidence that you had Satoru’s heart. He wouldn’t stray from you.

You didn’t have that same confidence anymore. Satoru had withdrawn, and it seemed as if he took his heart with him.

You hate being right. You wish you were wrong sometimes. On Utahime’s story, she’s seemingly at the same party that Suguru’s at. Her story is littered with pictures of her with other girls that you don’t recognize, videos of the loud music and people dancing in a crowd, and there’s just one last video on her story that makes your heart sink to your stomach.

Your boyfriend’s pretty blue eyes illuminated by the flash from her back camera. He smiled and laughed as Utahime filmed him. His face was littered with wine red lipstick kiss marks. Utahime had a grab on your boyfriend’s collar, obviously trying to hold his drunk self still while she filmed his crime.

It felt like a punch straight to your gut. You couldn’t even think straight, but you knew you needed to keep this evidence in case she deletes it. Your fingers shakily screenshot the story, logging the picture of Satoru covered in someone else’s affections.

He was out there feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness, receiving kisses from another, dancing to his heart’s content, and enjoying his life while you were sat at home weeping over the loss of your boyfriend.

The tv dinner, now cold and stale, was thrown into the garbage, and whatever little bit you had eaten came up soon after.

The picture was seared into your memory. You didn’t have to look at it to know every minor detail. The way his white hair was messy. His glasses were pulled down ever so slightly to reveal his devastatingly beautiful eyes. His coat hung on his shoulders while his muscular neck peaked out from his shirt.

Every time you closed your eyes, you thought about how many kiss marks he had on his face. How many times had he allowed himself to cheat on you? Was this the first time? Had it gone farther than this? Was it Utahime or some other girl?

You cried yourself to sleep, knowing that Satoru wouldn’t even come home to try to console you.

The next morning, you were disappointed as soon as you woke up. You wished sleep would’ve taken your body and whisked it away far, far from here. Instead, you’re still in your bed, sleeping on a pillow that was stained from your mascara.

If you could, you’d rot in bed all day and try to forget the godforsaken video you saw last night, but you had to make a trip to the restroom.

Forcing your weak body out of bed, you let out a small pained moan. You haven’t eaten a proper meal in so long, and you threw up whatever you did eat yesterday. Your appetite was completely diminished. Satoru use to say that food tasted better when it was shared. He always shared his meals with you, unbeknownst to him, helping you maintain a good schedule for eating.

Your apartment was too bright when you stepped out of the bathroom, and it smelled too much of food. The sizzling on the stove finally caught your drowsy attention.

The man of the hour, Satoru, was at your stove, shirtless and cooking something. Sleeping pants casually hung around his hips, and the dimples at the bottom of his back were so graciously being shown off. Did someone else know about those two little dimples? Even though back was facing you, you could already picture his face, littered with those stupid kiss marks.

Making a b-line for the bathroom, Satoru doesn’t even get the chance to greet you. Your hands were cold and clammy as your body uncontrollably heaved over the toilet. You had nothing left to give, but Satoru was taking everything from you.

Hot tears burned your cheeks as they slipped down your face. You didn’t want to do this. You wished you would’ve never saw that fucking video last night. You should’ve given yourself plausible deniability, but now, you had to face the music.

You slowly returned back to the kitchen after trying your best to clean yourself up. Your eyes focused on Satoru. He was finishing up cooking bacon when his eyes finally met yours and drove daggers through your heart.

“Good morning, sweetness. Something wrong?” He asks with so much care in his tone. You fantasize about hitting him — just once. How dare he suddenly care when you have to check out?

You don’t even know what to say to him. Like, yes, something is clearly fucking wrong, Satoru. I’m dating an unfaithful jerk.

“What are you doing here?” You ask bluntly, wiping your face of the remnants of tears and makeup that had stained your skin. He shouldn’t be allowed to see how badly he hurt you.

“I… live here?” He responds in a questioning tone, furrowing his white eyebrows as he studies your face. “Are you okay?” If only he had asked that question weeks ago, then maybe you two wouldn’t be in this mess today.

“No, and you don’t live here anymore.” You snap, causing him to slightly flinch back — not out of fear but out of surprise. He’s never seen you like this before.

“What do you mean, sweetness? I-“

“Cut the shit, Gojo. Don’t act stupid with me. It’s unbecoming.” You interrupt him completely, not wanting to hear him try to act innocent when you have all the proof you need on your phone.

“Woah. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I don’t really appreciate the insult and the use of my government name. I genuinely have no idea of what you’re talking about.” His voice is firm, laced with sternness, so you can see that he’s not playing around with you.

You take a deep breath until your lungs burn. You want to scream at him, chase him out of the house, and light his shit on fire. Instead, you silently go to retrieve your phone. Pulling up the picture of him with kiss marks all over his face, you shove the screen in his direction.

Gojo takes a few seconds to take in the photo, and he lets his shoulders drop. “This is what you’re mad over, sweetness?” He asks in a much more calm tone, looking up at you with almost puppy dog eyes.

“Don’t call me that.” You snap while swiping your phone back from his hands. “I didn’t think I’d have to spell it out for you, but we’re fucking done.”

“You seriously believe that I would cheat on you?” He asks in that stupid arrogant tone of his, completely ignoring your blunt rejection.

“Why else would your high school crush post a picture of you with kiss marks all over your face!? You look so fucking dumb and in love. I fucking-“ Your throat chokes up as if your body was trying to stop you from saying something you didn’t mean. The words “I fucking hate you” die right there on your lips. Tears fall down your cheeks, and you place your palms over your eyes to hide yourself from his impregnable gaze.

“This, again?” He asks in a frustrated tone before letting out an exasperated sigh, He turns the stove off - abandoning his food before walking over to you. He bends his knees a bit to get on your level. “Look at me.” He demands before his hands go to pull yours away from your eyes.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You cry out, jerking back away from his presence. Your breath speeds up. The oxygen isn’t having enough time to enter your bloodstream. Your body is vibrating, forcing the air quickly from your lungs. Everything is moving so fast and why the fuck is he so close to you-? He’s suffocating. Fuck, catch your breath. Whyhim?Whyyou?Why?Why?Whatdidyoudotodeservethis???

A gush of air is blown harshly onto your face, and you can feel the bitter cold feeling of something touching your skin. Your eyes see Satoru’s hand holding an ice cube, guiding it along your warm skin on your arm. Your body is so hot that it’s melting faster than he’s moving it.

“Breathe. Match my movements.” Satoru guides in a calm yet steady tone. Your eyes find the way his chest is slowly rising and falling with each breath. You want to tell him to go play in traffic. You don’t need him to ground you. You don’t need him to do anything for you. You don’t need him.

Still, your body matches his slowly. Your breath becomes more stable, and you can feel your heart starting to settle into a more natural rhythm. Your bleary eyes meet his empathetic ones. It’s been so long since your last panic attack, but he remembers just how to calm you down.

It only makes it all hurt so much worse.

“It’s almost over. You’re doing a good job.” He takes his chances at encouraging you. It feels so sickening, more tears flee your eyes. Where had your boyfriend been, and why is he only just now back after he did the unthinkable?

“Sing with me.” It’s an odd request, but it’s something he found that grounds you better than most grounding techniques. Saying repeatable phrases in melodic tone is comforting for your mind.

“No.”

“Come on… Just one time. Your favorite.” He tries again. Metaphorically, lighting the candle and passing it back to you.

You shake your head in response. Flame snuffed. How can you sing with him after what he did to you?

“Come on, don't leave me it can't be that easy, babe” He starts with such a soft angelic voice. You fold in on yourself unable to keep the sob from escaping your throat. What method of torture is this??

“If you believe me I guess I'll get on a plane. Fly to your city excited to see your face.” He continues, lighting that same candle. It’s so small, barely there anymore from how many times you two have tried to relight it.

“Hold me, console me and then I leave without a trace.” The ice cube has completely melted, and his hand is resting on your arm. He slowly guides you to his chest, and you indulge in his warm embrace for just one last time.

“Come on, don't leave me it can't be that easy, babe.” His chin rests on top of your head. You’ve always fit so well in his arms. He’d always tell you that whatever higher power is out there made you specifically with him in mind.

“If you believe me I guess I'll get on a plane. Fly to your city excited to see your face.” His skin is so warm against yours, and your tears are sticking to your chest.

“Hold me, console me and then I leave without a trace.” You finally indulge him, softly joining in on his singing. His body slowly starts to guide you two into a soft subtle sway.

“Come on, don't leave me it can't be that easy, babe.” It’s not that easy. This fucking hurts so bad. Why would your soulmate do this to you?

“If you believe me I guess I'll get on a plane. Fly to your city excited to see your face.” You feel so pathetic — seeking out comfort from the one who hurt you this bad. If your friend could see you right now, she’d slap some sense into you.

“Hold me, console me and then I leave without a trace.”

You’re sniffling softly into his chest, and his hand carefully pets your hair. “Those kiss marks weren’t from Utahime.” He explains in a soft tone. “We were filming a TikTok. The punchline of the joke was that Suguru and Haibara were the ones who kissed all over my face.”

You look up at him with an unsure look on your face, not understanding what he meant. Satoru carefully picks your phone up, and he clicks on Haibara’s Instagram story from last night.

Sure enough, Haibara posted a TikTok of him, Suguru, Satoru, and Utahime. The camera points at Satoru, showing the kiss marks on his face, and the sound plays. “Bro, what happened to your face? Did you do that?” The camera then pans to Utahime to which she mouths the words, “I did not do that.” The camera then pans to Haibara with smeared wine red lipstick on his lips who says, “Then, who did?” The camera is then panned towards Suguru. He also had wine red lipstick smeared on his lips. “Yeah, who?” The two boys start laughing along with Satoru, and the video cuts.

It only comforts your weary heart slightly.

“It was just a stupid TikTok… I should’ve consulted you or warned you… done anything to respect you.”

“This doesn’t take back how awfully cold you’ve been over the last few weeks…” You sniffle out quietly, and Satoru nods his head knowingly.

“I know, sweetness.. I know. I’ve been terrible.” His arms squeeze you a bit tighter — frightened that he was so close to loosing you, still scared of losing you.

“That’s not an apology… or even a reason.” You try to squirm from his grip, but Satoru holds you tighter.

“I’m so fucking sorry, sweetness.” He breathes out a shaky breath, and you realize the shakiness in his voice. Glancing up at him, you feel yourself clam up with the sight of tears in his eyes. Christ, his eyes are somehow even more blue when he cries. “Shit got crazy at work then-“

“You still had time to party it up with your friends. You left me without even telling me you love me.” You finally break away from his grasp. The cheating accusation was only the surface of the main problem.

“You know I love you…” His voice is small, and he wipes his eyes of the tears that are threatening to spill.

“Do I know that?”

“Don’t… don’t say that.. I love you more than life itself.” His shaky hands go to reach for you again, but you move back away from him.

“You’re only doing this because I’m leaving you. If I hadn’t mentioned it, you’d probably still be half assed ignoring me.” You stare at him, and your eyes start to water for the nth time today.

“That’s not…” Satoru bites his tongue, and he runs a hand through his messy white hair. “I came home this morning… saw the uneaten tv dinner in the trash… Your reality tv show was still playing in the background, and I saw how you fell asleep with your makeup messed up… I realized then how much I neglected you… I planned a full day for us to enjoy each other’s presence… Please, don’t leave me for this. I can fix this.”

“How did it feel to look at me everyday when I tried so fucking hard to reach you?”

“It killed me.” He breathes out, and he tries to reach for you again. “Please, I missed you so much. Work was just so fucking much, and I don’t know why I took that out on you.”

You stare at him, and you shake your head silently. “You should go, Gojo..” Your voice cracked as it physically pained you to tell him to leave. Your body craves him more than anything else in the world right now.

“No, please, princess. Don’t do this… I can fix this. I’ll do whatever it takes… just don’t leave me…” Satoru’s on his knees, literally begging you not to leave him. Tears are falling down his cheeks as he bows his head to you.

It’s humiliating, but he’s so humiliatingly in love with you. He’s so dead serious. He’d do anything for you to stay with him.

“Toru..”

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I-I don’t know why I did it. I just pulled away from you, and I don’t know how it happened. You’re the best damn thing that’s ever happened t-to me. Please. I can’t function without you.”

You stare at your boyfriend with concern as his head literally touches the floor beneath him. You don’t even know what to say to him. The thought of leaving him hurts so fucking bad. It steals the breath from your lungs.

“Please don’t leave me… puh…. please stay with me.” He’s groveling at your feet, unable to stop the tears that escape his eyes. The thought of living in a world where you aren’t his girlfriend… he wouldn’t. He’d be a shell of who he once was. He’s nothing without you.

You slowly sit on the floor in front of him, and your hands stroke his soft hair gently. Satoru’s breath slows as he finally gets a grip on his emotions. He realizes just how pathetic he looks. He slowly leans up, and he looks at you. Both of you looked like complete messes, and it was all his fault.

“I don’t deserve you,” He murmurs quietly. “but please, I can make this better… I love you so much, sweetness… I wouldn’t dream of ever cheating on you.”

“I don’t forgive you.” Your voice is barely a whisper. The metaphorical flame is so small and shaky, but if you two both shield it from the wind, it’ll be able to grow once more. “You have a lot to prove me, Toru.”

“I’ll spend every waking minute of my life fixing this. I promise you, sweets.”

and he did. Satoru went back to loving you loudly. He didn’t merely shield the flame from being blown out, he fanned it himself so it grew in intensity. He was back to doting on you constantly, and he did frequent check-ins to make sure you weren’t feeling neglected. He took frequent vacations from work with you. He usually took you two out on holidays to wherever your heart desired, but sometimes you two would use his vacation time to just lounge around the house and enjoy each other’s presence.

Your confidence slowly returned to you over time. It wasn’t easy by any means. It took many nights of Satoru’s consistent reassurance and overwhelming love and support for you to slowly start feeling comfortable in your relationship with him.

He put in the work, nourished your flame, and he never made you feel guilty for having a second thought because when he loves, he loves deeply. Casual is not his strong suit.

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