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magiccath · 1 year ago

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Mornings

tenth doctor x reader

Summary: In which you have a calming morning in with the Doctor

CW: a morning-after fic, so some NSFW content is implied, but no smut. Some disrobing later in the fic, but again no smut.

The Doctor didn’t really sleep, he didn’t need to. Then he started dating you, and the thought of you going to bed away from him was unbearable. He had taken to falling asleep with you in his arms, safe and sound. You had no reason to complain, you’d take any chance for a cuddle.

Slowly, he stirred awake, his eyes gently fluttering open. He smiled brightly at the sight in front of him. In all of time and space, he couldn’t imagine a better way to wake up.

You laid across from him, deep in sleep. The silken blue sheets rested slightly above your hip, leaning your bare legs covered from sight. His eyes traveled up your body, noting that sometime last night you had slipped one of his shirts on. He was torn between admiring you in his shirt and being upset that you had put anything on at all. He settled on the former. It made him smile - you, in one of his shirts.

Your hair was sprawled across the pillow, and your face was resting peacefully. It was times like this that the Doctor allowed himself to marvel at you. This beautiful being who loved him. Of all the people in the universe, you had chosen him.

You stirred slightly, pulling him out of his thoughts. Unconsciously you nuzzled into the pillow, searching for comfort. The Doctor smiled and brushed a hair away from your face. Not wanting to remove his hand from your face, he stroked your cheek gently. Without even thinking, he traced the words of a long-lost language into your skin. His thumbs brushed phrases like ‘I love you’ and ‘my love’ onto your skin in soft, concentric circles.

Desperate for you, he moved his face closer to yours, planting slow and delicate kisses on every inch of your skin. The crook of your neck, the rise of your chin, the arch of your cheekbone, the tip of your nose, the smooth skin of your forehead - anywhere he could reach.

The feather light brush of his lips slowly roused you from your sleep, your eyes eventually opening. The Doctor smiled brightly at you, pulling back to look at you. You were absolutely stunning to him in every single way.

“Good morning.”

You grunted and turned your head back into the pillow in response, still not fully awake. The Doctor chuckled and pulled you into him, his arms wrapping firmly around your waist. You slung a leg over his hips in response, comfortably draping yourself over the Time Lord. Happily, you nuzzled your nose into his neck. You breathed in his familiar scent, hints of cinnamon and freshly brewed tea calming your senses. You could stay like this forever, drifting in and out of consciousness in his arms.

His hands traveled up your - his - shirt, dancing his slender fingers across the bare skin of your back. His touch was warm and comforting, more than enough to urge you back to sleep. However, the Doctor had other ideas.

His lips fluttered around your ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

“Coffee?” he whispered, his husky voice sending tremors down your body.

Begrudgingly, you lifted your head upwards to look at him. He was so handsome. Up close, you could map every single one of his thousands of freckles. Without thinking much about it, you let your fingers trace the lines between them, connecting the soft spots scattered across his nose and cheeks like constellations.

His hair was messy from sleep, but then again, it was always messy. The Doctor had a nasty habit of manhandling his hair at all hours of the day. As a result, the strands remained constantly tussled and spiky.

“Yes, please,” you uttered, hardly above a whisper. It took everything in you not to get lost in his eyes. Deep pools of chocolate brown that held hundreds of years of wisdom. He didn’t know it, but his eyes could be so expressive. You had spent long enough with him that they could give away his feelings in an instant, even if the rest of his face remained impassive.

The Doctor nodded and rotated you, freeing himself from your grip. You flopped onto your back, admiring him from the comfort of the mattress. You loved looking at him as he moved about, only vaguely aware of your admiring gaze.

He grabbed his PJ bottoms from the floor and slipped into them, doing a little hop to get them up over his hips.

You rubbed your eyes and started to get up to follow. It was hard to pull yourself out of the warm embrace of your bed, but you slowly managed to move. You slipped your body off the side of the bed and started to walk. Your legs, still sore from the night before, wobbled underneath you.

The Doctor laughed, admiring his own work with a smirk. If your legs were still unsteady hours later, then he had done somthng right.

“Shut up,” you snapped, shifting your weight on your shaking legs. The Doctor wasted no time picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. He couldn’t help but pride himself in the fact that your legs were still wobbling. It was an extremely rare occurrence, but one of the many indicators that you had enjoyed yourself as much as he had.

“Oi!” you gasped, slapping his back. “I’m perfectly capable of walking!”

He only smiled in response, happily carrying you down the hall and towards the TARDIS kitchen. Eventually, you gave up and went limp. You didn’t get a say in this.

The Doctor made his way through the corridors of the ship proudly. Still carrying you, he entered the kitchen. It was a messy mix of human and alien, with all kinds of foods and appliances stored in random places in the room.

Gently, he set you down on the counter next to the coffee pot. There was a normal, human one, for you. Next to it, the Doctor had is own, less human, ways of making coffee. You said it tasted like space dirt, so he never made it for you.

You crossed your arms and glared at him as he mulled about, preparing your coffee. Silently, he scooped the coffee grounds into the machine, pressing the ‘on’ button.

“You suck,” you pouted. He smiled over his shoulder, knowing that you didn’t mean it.

While the coffee brewed, he occupied himself with you. Positioning himself between your knees, he planted more kisses across your face. Now that he wasn’t worried about waking you up, his kisses were firmer. His lips danced across the planes of your face, peppering loving kisses across it.

“You love me,” he whispered in your ear, nibbling on the soft spot behind it.

You couldn’t help but mewl into his touch, pulling him closer to you. The Doctor smirked against the base of your neck, biting down softly. He was right, you did love him. More than you had ever loved anyone in your life.

He trailed kisses back up your neck, hovering over your lips. Your eyes fluttered shut, leaning in to close the gap between your mouths. Ever the tease, he pulled away from you. You groaned loudly as he backed away from you, going back to the coffee pot.

You glared at his toned back as he prepped you a cup of coffee. He made it exactly the way you liked it. You shouldn’t have been surprised he knew you so well, but you always were. It was the small things that reminded you how much the Doctor loved you. A perfect cup of coffee in the morning, your favorite dinner after a long day, a comforting hand slipped into yours on adventures, those kinds of things.

He brought you the steaming mug with a kiss, letting his lips linger for a few moments. You sighed into it, more than happy to revive the affection and the beverage. Pulling away from you, the Doctor planted multiple chaste kisses on your lips, not wanting to sever the connection.

As he kissed you, he guided your arms over his shoulders, your hands clutching your warm coffee against the base of his neck. You rested your head tiredly against his shoulder, the coolness of his bare skin radiating against your cheek. He then urged your legs around his middle, placing his hands on the base of your thighs to support your weight.

Firmly secured to his front, the Doctor sauntered off back down the corridors of the ship. Without any suggestion as to where you were going, you closed your eyes and allowed the Doctor to carry you around.

He made his way to the bathroom, setting you back down on the counter next to the sink before milling about the room. He shut the door and turned the shower on, allowing it to heat up.

You drank your coffee happily as he slipped his PJ bottoms off, his underwear following. Shamelessly, you ogled at his bum.

You hid your wandering eyes behind the rim of your coffee cup. Still, the Doctor raised his eyebrows at you, having caught you staring. You blushed and turned away from him. You knew you were allowed to look, but it was still a little embarrassing getting caught. The Doctor giggled and kissed your cheek tenderly.

His fingers then made quick haste of the shirt you had thrown on last night, sliding it up and over your shoulders. The cold air of the bathroom chilled your exposed skin, sending goose pimples across your bare chest.

You took another drink of coffee if only to hide the scarlet flush that dominated your face. So this is how your morning was going to go?

The Doctor’s hands then slid your underwear down your legs, the action tantalizingly slow. You watched him with wide eyes, your coffee still clutched tightly in your hands.

Once you were disrobed, the Doctor stepped away from you. His eyes traveled down your body as they often did, admiring your entire form. He sucked in a sharp breath, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Then, without a word, he turned away from you and slipped into the shower.

You scoffed, he hadn’t even invited you in. Stubbornly, you remained on the counter. You sipped your coffee silently, awaiting an invitation to join the Doctor.

After a few moments, the Doctor popped his head out of the shower, his eyebrows knitted together.

“Well, get in here,” He gestured with his head, urging you into the shower.

You giggled and downed the rest of your coffee before slipping down from the counter, eagerly making your way to him. Once you were within reach, the Doctor snagged your arm and dragged you in after him with a mischievous smirk.

#a little spicy #10th doctor x reader #10th doctor/reader #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor/reader #tenth doctor #10th doctor #the doctor/reader #the doctor x reader #the doctor #doctor who #david tennant #fanfic #fanfiction #doctor who fanfiction #morning after #doctor who bbc

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balkanparamo · 10 days ago

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The Morning After: A Bowlers Hat

#art #painting #morning after #hat #hangover

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hrefna-the-raven · 1 year ago

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Hope in hell

Masterlist - BG3 masterlist

Part 1 - Drunken minds speak sober hearts

Words: 2138

Warnings: smut (18+)

Summary: The dreaded morning after ;)

Raphael let out a groan, his head pounding like a piece of metal relentlessly being hammered into shape by the most skilled dwarven blacksmiths, the constant painful throbbing clouding his memories, making it difficult to piece together the events of last night, despising how he felt like a common mortal after a night's out. He attempted to sit up but froze as he felt something soft resting on his chest, accompanied by a comforting warmth. Taking a deep breath, he glanced down and let out a sigh, his heart suddenly feeling heavy. Haarlep must have slept with you, assumed your form and then... his eyes shot wide open and he muttered a curse under his breath as fragments of the previous night's memories flickered through his mind.

That damned incubus got him drunk and then you showed up and... His hands delicately traced the contours of your slumbering figure. It was truly you, his beloved little mouse, curled up against his chest. His heart raced, a twinge of pain accompanying the rapid beats, as he pondered how to proceed. What clever remark would he throw at you once you woke up? Would he even need one? Would you recoil and attempt to flee from the sight of the devil beneath you? He didn't get enough time to find an answer to all his questions as you slowly stirred awake, your eyes were still closed as you lazily stretched and your hips accidentally brushed against his growing arousal.

A deep growl rumbled in his chest, causing you to quickly raise your head and look at him, eyes wide with surprise. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, swirling in chaotic circles, expecting to be scolded, pushed away, or even punished. But to your astonishment, nothing happened. You still remained lying there, on top of him, silently gazing into each other's eyes, both afraid that any spoken word might shatter the peaceful and loving moment you were sharing. But the silence grew heavy and a sense of unease slowly crawled up your spine, threatening to consume both your thoughts and body. It was unusual to witness Raphael in such a state of quietude, after all that happened, it didn't sit right with you that he was so calm, devoid of any movement or speech. It almost seemed as if Haarlep had managed to shatter him completely, that one evening of unfiltered truth had stripped away every trace of his self-centered arrogance, leaving him exposed and vulnerable before you. You were the first to ever glimpse at the raw essence of Raphael's entire being and, despite your constant cat and mouse game, you felt no desire to exploit it; on the contrary, you cherished this side of him, the devil laid bare, and at this very moment, you yearned to love him more than ever.

"About last night-"

"I feel the same!", you interjected, cutting off Raphael mid-sentence, "but if you..."

Any further words you were about to utter were engulfed by a provocative moan as you sensed his growing arousal pressed firmly against your hips the moment you attempted to readjust your position. Raphael's eyes fluttered shut, his mouth hanging open, unable to withstand the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that washed over him.

"To hell with this, I want you!", the words escaped your lips almost simultaneously, filled with an urgent longing.

Raphael snapped his fingers, and in an instant, both yours and his clothes disappeared. He pulled you towards him so swiftly that you had to clutch onto his horns to prevent yourself from toppling over. As his mouth met your dripping folds, you couldn't help but whimper. It was at this moment that you realised how much of the Raphael you came to know was still present. The damned devil teased you with the anticipation of his hot tongue caressing your arousal but you simply wouldn't have it, not now. You lowered your hips, grinding gently against his face, yearning for any kind of friction. His claws dug into the tender flesh of your thighs, firmly keeping you in place.

"My little mouse", the devil chuckled, "so eager to be eaten."

With a tantalising slowness, he dragged his tongue through the delicate contours of your folds, briefly encircling your clit before sucking on it with an insatiable hunger. The air was filled with the intoxicating symphony of your sinful moans and your grip around his horns instinctively tightened. This was a desire that had consumed your thoughts for countless nights, the fantasy of being pleasured by your very own devil. And now, as it finally became a reality, you couldn't hold anything back. The intensity of your climax approached rapidly and just as you were about to reach its peak, his licks ceased. Frustration welled up within you, ready to protest, but then he pressed his tongue flat against your throbbing clit while simultaneously thrust two of his large fingers deep inside you. The rhythmic pumping intensified, driving you towards the edge once more. Within mere moments, your inner walls clenched around his fingers and you experienced a mind-shattering orgasm, screaming his name in ecstasy.

With an unexpected tenderness, he released his grip on your hips and gently cradled you in his arms, carefully laying you down on the bed beside him. His face turned towards you, his eyes filled with love as he gazed upon your blissful expression. As soon your eyes met his, he understood that there would be no turning back anymore, he was in love with this fragile mortal and he would curse himself to an eternity of anguish if he'd deny himself the bliss of your love. The hells and all its devils be damned, he would see that you'd remain at his side for as long as you'd live.

"You now know about my best kept secret", he whispered, as if afraid that any disruption would shatter the fragile balance, "and rest assured my feelings for you will not easily waver. However this is hell and I'm not just any devil but the son of Mephistopheles, I, I can't", he faltered, uncertain of how to proceed as it felt wrong, for the first time in his existence, to utter those words.

"You can't show weakness to others, you can't show your love to me", you offered, the pain your voice obvious.

You turned your eyes away, unable to bear the increasing sorrow, but his hands swiftly moved to cradle your face, redirecting your focus back to him.

"If you're willing to stay by my side despite the laws of the nine hells working against us, I will vow my love to you within my House of Hope for as often as you desire it and I promise you that beyond these walls, I will always treat you with utmost respect and defend your honour, for you will be the lady of this house", he paused briefly, attempting to discern your reaction before continuing, "if you'd be willing."

His words left you in astonishment as you blinked. Did he truly express his desire to commit to you, vowing to cherish and safeguard you? It was a proposal you should have considered longer before answering, yet your body instinctively reacted before your mind could fully comprehend the situation. You crawled towards him, pushing him down on his back as you straddled him, gently, to not hurt his wings before you leaned down, capturing his lips in a fervent embrace. Raphael moaned your name as he felt you positioning his hardening member at your entrance, sinking down on him just enough for the tip to enter. His hands found your hips, holding you in place momentarily as he broke the kiss.

"What are you doing?"

"We're not done until we both had our fair share of pleasure", you breathed as you sank down on him, swallowing a moan, "besides shouldn't the lady of the house keep her man satisfied?"

Raphael's smile widened as he guided your motions, starting off slowly and then picking up speed. Feral growls escaped his lips as he he could feel himself approaching the peak of his own pleasure fast. He had been intimate with many throughout the decades, including Haarlep, a being existing ultimately to provide pleasure, but there was something special about you. The closeness, the shared emotions, the intimacy - all of his previous encounters paled in comparison to the connection he felt with you in this very moment. But you felt just as good, riding a devil, having his cock buried deep down inside you, filling you up perfectly while hitting that sweet spot over and over again, transforming this sinful act into something heavenly. The feeling of pure bliss cursed through your whole body as you moved your hips in a perfect rhythm, the heated embrace of desire and lust unleashed as both of toppled over the edge. In this moment of tenderness and passion, it was clear that your connection went beyond physical pleasure. It was a union of souls, an experience that transcended mere satisfaction.

"Raphael", you moaned loudly as your walls clenched around his cock, feeling it twitched as his seed spilled inside you.

Both of you panted heavily, a contented smile playing at the edges of your lips as the devil sat up, his arms wrapping around you to pull you into a tight embrace.

"I love you", he whispered tenderly, chuckling as you hummed your consent, too spent to utter a word.

"Oh my, what a perfectly delicious sight", a familiar voice chuckled, drawing nearer.

Your eyes snapped open and you blinked in disbelief as you spotted Astarion standing in the boudoir, bearing a smug grin as he observed the two of you with obvious amusement.

"Astarion?!", you shrieked, scrambling off Raphael, hastily covering your exposed form with the silk blanket to hide both your nakedness and your embarrassment from your companion. The vampire merely chuckled, his gaze shifting between you and the devil.

"Guess again, little mouse", the pale elf playfully teased, giving you a sly wink, his crimson eyes glowing up for just a second, "it seems my plan worked rather well."

Before you had a chance to fully comprehend who was standing before you, Raphael, still unclothed, swiftly leapt out of bed and lunged towards the elf. His fingers clenched tightly around Haarlep's throat, exerting a dangerous pressure. You wanted to scream, to implore Raphael to stop, but Haarlep calmly transformed into his master's form, causing Raphael to immediately release his grip on the incubus' throat.

"You wretched creature!", Raphael spat, "you poisoned me! Do NOT forget your place in this house, slave!"

Instinctively, you retreated further onto the bed, clutching the blanket tightly as sudden fear surged through you. You had witnessed many facets of Raphael's personality, but this seething rage terrified you beyond measure, especially coming from the same being who had cradled you tenderly just moments before but a part of you also understood his anger.

"You misunderstood, my dear master, my intent was never to poison you. I simply intended to", the incubus gestured towards you, "enhance your chances with your favourite misadventurer, all in your best interest I assure you."

Raphael was fuming, wishing he could obliterate Haarlep into countless fragments. However, he recognised that he couldn't afford to destroy such a gift from his father, at least not yet, and deep down Raphael knew that the incubus was right, without his involvement, last night and this morning wouldn't have unfolded so magnificently. Haarlep, of course, fully grasped the advantage he currently held over his master and decided to push his luck even further, knowing that such a perfect opportunity would not present itself again in the near future.

"If you'll excuse me", he hummed while transforming back to Astarion's form, "I have to get back to my new, rather passionate, lover. It's quite nice to be in the receiving end for once."

He gave you a sly wink and blew a quick kiss your way before disappearing once again, leaving you alone with the annoyed devil.

Rising to your feet, you cautiously approached Raphael, still wrapped in the warmth of a blanket. Your fingertips lightly traced along the edges of his magnificent wings as you circled around him.

"Why not free the incubus from his duties?", you suggested, tugging at his hand and bringing it up to your lips, planting kisses along the inside of his arm, "no more Haarlep means no father watching your every move."

Raphael chuckled, pulling you close and lifting you effortlessly in one swift motion.

"Well, well, my little mouse," he whispered, planting a sweet peck on your lips, "not only are you full of delightful surprises, but it also seems that I couldn't have asked for a more perfect lady of my House of Hope."

Tags:

@dark-and-kawaii

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael bg3 #raphael x reader #raphael x you #raphael #haarlep bg3 #haarlep #drunk devil #sneaky haarlep #drunk confessions #morning after #smut #raphael smut #haarlep is astarion #astarion

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starzioo · 10 months ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐓. ❦ 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐈𝐃𝐒.

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader! Hiii this is my first Theo one-shot so pls don’t judge. :,( I personally really like this piece! This one’s pretty short tho, sadly. Anyways hope you enjoy!!

Word count: 808

Warnings: No smut but a teensy suggestive.

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You slightly turn stretching as you sprawl out on the bed a bit. Your arm above your head with the other on your stomach, one of your legs slightly bent up. Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes close hard. Suddenly you hear a camera shutter and you see a flash through your closed eyes. You immediately sit up and open your eyes, you notice your body is sore and you have a blasting headache. Your face turns into a stank face as you see the boy you've hated for years. Theodore Nott. He stands there with a sly smirk as he holds a poloroid camera in his hands, as he shakes the photo that was printed, waiting for it to process. "You perv! *you yell as you cover yourself with a blanket* What are you doing in my.. *you trail off as you realize you aren't in your bed.* Oh my god..." Theo laughs then looks down at the poloroid picture. "Perfect cara mia.." he says underneath his breath. "Theo you creep, give me the picture!" you say as you get out of the bed slightly stumbling due to your sore legs. When you get up you realize that you are only wearing his quidditch jersey. You look at him and see that he's wearing nothing but grey sweats. "Nahh I think imma keep it." he says slyly with a smirk as he examines the photo further. You walk up to him and snatch the picture out of his hand. You look down at the picture then back up at him "Theo...did we?" "Mmm I dunno, but seeing that you’re only wearing my jersey and nothing else…I would guess so." he says flirtatiously looking you up and down, taking a step closer, playing with the hem of his jersey. You run your hand down your face. "You're fucking joking." You say sitting back down on the bed with the picture in your hand. "mmmno i'm not" he says walking to the night stand and picking up another photo, the smirk on his face grows. He then turns around and hand you another polaroid. You look at it, your jaw drops slightly. It's picture of you on your knees with your hands resting on your thighs, you're looking up at the camera with lustful eyes and a small smirk. You are only in your bra, there's a white liquid on your chest and chin. As you examine the photo you begin to remember the night more and more. "God....Theo is there any more of these?" you say looking up at him clearly disappointed in yourself. "No...I wish there was though" he laughs lightly as he looks down at you admiring the picture. "that's the only one I found." he continues. "Are you sure?" you say furrowing your brows a small bit. "Yeah i'm sure." "Could you...could you burn these...?" you say with disappointment as you rub your head a bit. He walks up to you and gently takes the polaroids he admires them for a second. "Yeah.." he says softly. He then walks over to the fire place in his room and tosses them in there. You sigh in relief. "Thank you..." you say shyly. "I wouldn't want a picture like that of me just being out there either." he walks up to you his eyes dart around your face, then he sits down next to you. "I don't even remember what happened..." you say quietly. he sighs "I'm sorry I was just...absolutely wasted...we both were...the only thing really remember was you screaming my name" he laughs as he rests his hand on your thigh innocently. All your attention is immediately on his hand. You sigh. "God.." you whisper as you lay on your back. He takes his hand off your thigh and lays next to you on his back as well. You both just lay there in comfortable silence as you stare at the ceiling. "I don't think I hate you anymore..." You say breaking the silence. Theo laughs lightly as turns his head and looking at you. His eyes examine every feature of yours. The way your hair is messy but yet put together, falling all around you. Every freckle. Every divot and dimple in your face. He sits up and rests on his arm. His eyes wander down to your plush thighs and back up to your eyes. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t think I ever did.” He says softly gazing down at you. “So di non averlo mai fatto”(I know I never did) He says gazing down at you with pure admiration.

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As always ignore any typos! T.T But srsly this man is so fine I could actually burst into tears.

#theodore nott #fandom #harry potter #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts #fanfic #theo nott #y/n #x reader #fem reader #slytherin #slytherin boys #morning after #slytherin fanfiction #theo nott x reader

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jandthecrow · 1 month ago

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The Snake

Simon Ghost Riley x reader

SUMMARY: Morning after cracking a few open with the boys you wake up not alone in bed

CW: fluff, in love Simon (unbeknownst to reader), fem!reader, caring!simonriley, gentle!simonriley, smut?, nakedness

Sweet dreams of the library fade as you wake, the soft crinkling of books and the smell of worn leather leaving your senses. Light spills from the curtains, a dark grey heavy cloth. The sheets around you are warm, dark maroon and soft worn down cotton.

It takes you a moment to stir, your head pounding and body aching, you don’t even remember much of last night. Only cracking a few open with the team, laughing at Gaz’s jokes while Soap ticked off Ghost. Price silently watching the encounters while you all drank after a successful mission. After that it’s all a blur of laughter and pure happiness then nothing.

You roll over in your sheets, body heavy and tired. A hangover sitting in the back of your skull, deep throbbing pain but nothing some Ibuprofen and a glass of liquid IV can’t fix. You catch sight of someone’s back as you roll over, wide and muscular, bearing red scratches and light bruises where nails dug into the skin hard. Scars trace down his left shoulder, jagged and unsteady, probably from some sort of combat knife.

Racking your brain of last night, trying to figure out who is in your bed? Who had the pleasure of fucking you and staying the full night? Instead of being kicked out about a hour after, like you usually did with one night stands.

With a sigh you sit up and put your legs over the side of your bed, pain shoots up your core. A sure sign you had a good time last night, hickeys cover your lower stomach and inner thighs. You don’t look for more, not wanting to try and rack your brain for something you couldn’t remember happening.

As you massage your stiff shoulders, you feel the sheets shift and mattress dip slightly. *The mysterious guest must be waking.* you think to yourself. You look back and furrow your eyebrows a little thinking your mind must be playing tricks on you, cause there is no way Simon Riley is in bed with you… naked and looking just as confused as you are as you stare at each other.

A beat of silence passes, two, three, five, a minute. You just stare at each other shocked and confused and speechless. His chest is worse this his back, deep purple hickeys line his collarbones, a bite mark on his shoulder that is red and raised but the skin not broken. Hickeys trail up his neck, smudged lipstick stain his skin from his face to his stomach, as low as you bring yourself to look with his gaze on you.

Simon POV quick switch

He watches you as you watch him, he rubs his mouth and chin, taking note of the hickeys that line your neck and breasts. Light bruises on your hips, your front still turned away as your upper body is turned to look back at him. Simon can’t see any more signs of whatever you guys did last night but it was apparently intense.

He studies you still, taking note of your body. Plush thighs and slight rolls on your stomach, most of your body made of muscle from the intense military training while stubborn fat clings. Your breasts aren’t too small but aren’t too big, average sized you usually think when you see your naked body - perfect in his eyes. Tattoos litter your skin, and unsurprisingly the skeleton snake tattoo he always saw in training when your shirt rode up. The tattoo starts from your right lower thigh and goes up your leg, the head of the python on your stomach only a few inches right from your belly button. He looks back to your neck trying to keep some form of privacy even when you both are as naked as the day you came into this world.

Simon feels a slight sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he realizes that your relationship will no longer be a simple camaraderie anymore. He searches his mind for any memory of last night but only comes up with drinking more than he should’ve at the hangout and little flashes of intense pleasure and moaning from either him or you, he can’t tell.

Simon mentally kicks himself and his eyes wander around your room on base. Deep maroon cotton sheets, and two matching oak side tables next to the bed. Black heavy curtains blocking out the almost blinding morning light. Two dressers against the far wall near the door. The bed on the other side of the room is bare, you have no assigned roommate. Besides that little tells him about you, only a pair of shark slippers and a bathrobe hanging on your open bathroom door. It has a little dinosaur stitched into it over the heart. A dinosaur he doesn’t recognize like you would a t-Rex or stegosaurus. Meaning you probably have a great interest in paleontology.

Clothes are strewn over the floor, his and your own. His clothes are nearest the door while yours are only near the bed, you were more eager than him or he was more passionate. Simon runs his hand through his hair and clears his throat. “Well good morning.” He mumbles more to himself than you.

POV switches back

As he speaks you feel a wave of calm and slight annoyance, something that isn’t familiar to you. You’re known for your discipline and honesty but not your lack of self control that his body clearly shows. You nod back silently turning your back to him again and continuing to massage your shoulders. You feel his eyes on you.

“You remember last night?” Simon asks slowly and quietly.

“No, you?” You mumble as you work a kink out of your left shoulder

“Nothing, only a lot of drinking.”

It’s silent after that, the sound of fabric and the clink of his belt fill the room as he gets dressed. He sits back down as he slides his socks and boots on, tying them up tightly.

After a few beats of silence he gets up heading to the door and slips out of the room. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. A twinge of annoyance and loneliness bleeds through your heart. You push it away standing up and collecting your clothes. Your clothes are more neat than his, seemingly having fallen off the bed instead of being thrown off. Tossing them in the dirty clothes bin you head to shower.

Turning on the light of the bathroom you barely look at your reflection as you start the shower turning the water to hot. You step in feeling the comforting warmth of the water pelting your skin. Pouring shampoo in your hands, you lather it up until it bubbles and massage it into your scalp.

A few minutes into your shower routine, your bedroom door opens and you startle. Your bathroom door is left wide open, leaving whoever just entered your room the option to enter. Heavy boots sound against your bedroom floor, and the smell of food and coffee fill your senses. The heavy boots walk over to the open bathroom door and you peek out behind the curtain, it’s Simon. He knocks on the door looking at something in your room not noticing you already see him. “Lass, got us some food.”

You pull your head back into the shower, and sigh finishing scrubbing your arms. “Ok” is all you say before he walks away and sits somewhere in your room. You turn the water off and towel dry, you wrap it around yourself and close the bathroom door for privacy.

A few minutes later you leave the bathroom wearing a new set of clothes. A black long sleeved shirt and black sweatpants, a dinosaur stitched in over the heart - a different one than your robe. The sweatpants have a matching dinosaur stitched in over the left hip, you wear black ankle socks and your shark slippers. Glancing around your room you notice he’s changed your bed sheets into black ones. The maroon sheets sit in the dirty bin, Simon has the curtains open as he sits on the ground in clean clothes. He doesn’t glance up as you walk over and sit across from him, he pushes a to-go box in front of you as he eats out of his.

The food is good as you both eat in silence, not looking at each other. Not speaking or moving, the atmosphere is relaxed but a little awkward. You clear your throat “Thanks��.

Simon nods and you feel the need to fill the silence. “Thought you weren’t gonna come back, surprised me when you came back with breakfast” you say as you bite into a pancake.

“Why’d ya think that?” Simon mumbles.

You pause for a moment thinking if he’s really that dense. “Ya left without saying anything, so I figured- ya know.”

He nods and glances up. “Woulda been rude to leave a lady hungry after sleeping with ‘er.”

“Yeah I guess. Speaking of: you can forget about it, a drunken mistake happens every once a while.” You say finishing up your pancakes.

When you say that he just looks at you for a moment, his face twisting slightly in an emotion you don’t recognize on him, due to the lack of never seeing his face before this. “What if I did’n want’a forget this?”

That makes you pause and look back up at him from your food. He just stares back silently waiting for your response.

“Guess I can’t tell a grown man what to do” you say back still looking at him a bit confused at his seemingly sudden interest in you.

But in all reality if you would’ve paid more attention to your surroundings, you would’ve noticed that he’s always been interested in you. Watching out for you on missions and making sure you take care of yourself. Making sure to get you breakfast on mornings you’re too busy to eat. You seem to lack the awareness when someone is interested in you. One of the qualities that make him feel warm and fuzzy when he thinks of you.

He holds his hand out for yours, you place yours in his hesitantly, he brings it to his mouth. Giving each of your knuckles a kiss.

“Guess you’re stuck with me lass.”

#simon riley #short story #cliffhanger #simon ghost riley #morning after #fem reader #aftercare #slow burn #simon riley fluff

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mr-boe · 8 months ago

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to all of you who do digital art, ily because i had no idea it was this time consuming 🛐😭

#one piece #trafalgar law #lawlu #lulaw #law x luffy #monkey d. luffy #op #morning after #idiots in love #now that im not high istfg that is not a sink

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opendirectories · 28 days ago

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#open directories #roomcore #interior #party #aftermath #morning after

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thatmexisaurusrex · 5 months ago

Note

Bucktommy prompt: morning after

Send in a One or Two Word Prompt

Oooh, I like this prompt 👀

Morning After

Buck couldn't stop staring at Tommy.

He really couldn't.

He'd been up for maybe thirty minutes, and it was still a little surreal. A little fantastical.

Tommy stayed the night.

Well.

It wasn't the first night Tommy stayed the night, but he stayed the night with both of their intentions pretty clear. That they were going to make that next physical step.

And fuck, Buck hadn't expected how emotional that was going to be. Not because of the sex but - but because of how much more intimate it felt with Tommy. Not that Buck hadn't had relationships where he had poured his entire heart out for the other person to see, but this was the first time he felt someone actually tried to match him.

Not tried.

Just.

Did.

This wasn't to say that other lovers he had hadn't shown love in their own ways, but it never felt exactly equal. Not this way. It never felt like Buck was the priority. Buck didn't fault past girlfriends on that. Buck knew going into those relationships that their focuses did lie elsewhere, but - but he really liked how he was a priority with Tommy.

How he felt like the priority.

It made Buck want to be like that with Tommy forever. Be connected and close and with him like that for as long as he could be.

And, they kind of had been up most of the night because of that. Tommy didn't mind. He didn't seem to think Buck was being needy or too much wanting just one more round.

He seemed.

A little surprised.

That Buck wanted that with him.

Buck hoped by the end of the night, Tommy stopped thinking that way. Saw that it was absurd to even assume no one would just want him like that. Maybe if they fucked every day, for say, the rest of their lives, Tommy would get it.

Buck would oblige.

Tommy yawned, smiling lazily as he blearily blinked Buck's way.

Evan's way.

"Good morning, Evan," croaked Tommy, and fuck, even his morning voice was a turn-on.

"Hey, yourself," rumbled Buck as he went in for a kiss.

And another.

Swallowing up all of Tommy's half-surprised, but very on-board moans as Buck straddled his boyfriend.

#911 abc #bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #bucktommy ficlet #tevan #kinley #the ally and the beast #Morning After #asks

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rwac96 · 4 months ago

Note

In the morning after a night of drunken intimacy weiss woke up her head was buzzing, she felt some leaking out of her slit and beside her is a sleeping jaune with a morning wood she blushed and remembered everything.

Weiss: *laying on the bed, naked, and blushing* "Oh, God!" *sits up* "Oh, God! I just slept with my companion!!"

Jaune: *asleep, snoring* "ZZZZZZZ!"

Weiss: *covers her face* "I feel so ashamed!" *slides one hand down, looking between her legs* "AND UNPROTECTED?! God, I'm a mess!"

Jaune: *awake, confused* "Huh?! W-We under attack--Ooh, my head!"

#answer #answered #answers #answer post #answered post #rwby #rwby au #rwby shitpost #rwby smut #weiss schnee #jaune arc #whiteknight #white knight #rwby whiteknight #rwby white knight #post-apocalyptic au #fallout au #aftersex #morning after

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writingsoftarnishedsilver · 13 days ago

Text

The Morning After | Sebastian Sallow x OC #42

i stayed up way too late writing this last night

i didn't have this chapter pre-planned in the plot, but after reading comments on the last chapter, i think it only makes sense to include a bit more about what happened the morning after the ball :) i hope y'all enjoy heh (fr im so tired so i hope this is good)

Summary: Sebastian and Evangeline wake up together and share a few intimate revelations.

Words: ~7,100

Tags: Not-Quite-Dating, Will They Won't They, Fluff, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Mutual Pining, Longing, Unspoken Feelings, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Idiots in Love, Soft Moments, Mentions of Smut, Sebastian is a SIMP

Timeline: Late March

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

Read on AO3

Sebastian woke to warmth pressed against his side that sent a wave of disorientation through him. His eyelids felt heavy, the familiar dim glow of the Undercroft around him grounding him as he blinked awake. Then it hit him—the weight draped over his chest, the quiet, rhythmic sound of her breathing.

Evangeline.

She was still asleep, curled against him like she belonged there. The events of the night before came rushing back: the Equinox Ball, her radiant figure in that green dress, the way her laughter had lit up the room. And later, the kiss on his cheek, her whispered words about how she wouldn’t have wanted to go with anyone else. His chest tightened at the memory.

He exhaled quietly, careful not to disturb her. The last thing he wanted was to move and ruin this—this perfect moment where she was still here, still pressed against him, so close he could feel the heat of her through the thin fabric of her pajamas. His arm was draped over her waist, his hand resting precariously close to her ass. He realized he must have pulled her closer in his sleep, and now he couldn’t bring himself to let go.

She smelled faintly of her perfume, her hair spilling across the pillow and brushing his neck. Her long, dark lashes rested against her cheeks, her expression softer than he was used to seeing. No fire, no teasing smirk, just Evangeline as she was—beautiful and unguarded. His gaze lingered on her lips, slightly parted, and he swallowed hard, trying to look away.

But it was impossible not to notice everything about her. The camisole she wore had slipped slightly, the thin strap hanging loosely off her shoulder. Her skin looked so soft in the dim light, and his fingers itched to touch her, to see if her skin was as smooth as it looked.

It wasn't just her shoulder, though. Every part of her was impossibly soft, from the slight swell of her stomach that she always seemed intent on hiding, to the curve of her thighs, to the fullness of her chest pressed against his side. His mind wandered to the way her dress had clung to her last night, perfectly hugging every part of her she seemed so self-conscious about. She had spent the entire evening fidgeting with the fabric, tugging at it as though it wasn't doing exactly what it should: showing her off.

And Merlin, did she have to wear those pajamas? The camisole was thin and barely there, the shorts loose but short enough that they left very little to his imagination. Not that his imagination needed much help, especially not when she was lying so close.

His arm tightened just slightly around her waist, his hand brushing the curve of her hip, and he froze, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as desire surged through him, pooling between his legs.

She was everything he didn’t quite have and yet, she was all he'd ever wanted. Her softness drove him mad, the gentle dips and curves of her body that she tried so hard to downplay. Didn't she know how maddeningly beautiful she was? Didn't she know how good she looked, how good she would feel under his hands, under him?

The thought sent heat racing through him, and he cursed himself silently, trying to will it away. But it was impossible not to think about it. She was right here. He thought about how perfectly she fit against him, how easily she seemed to melt into his side, and he couldn't stop his mind from wandering—wondering how she would feel if he pinned her beneath him, if her hands tangled in his hair, if she arched up into him, her body yielding completely to his.

His stomach tightened painfully, and he let out a quiet, shaky breathe, reminding himself that she was his best friend; his Evangeline. The same Evangeline who trusted him enough to fall asleep beside him like this, her guard completely down.

But she wasn't just his best friend, was she? Not anymore. Not after what happened in the Prefect’s bathroom.

His chest tightened at the memory, heat flooding his veins as he recalled the moment she’d slid out of the steaming bath and onto the tile behind him. He'd imagined her skin flushed from the heat, her dark hair damp and sticking to her shoulders, and her hands—Merlin, her hands—had been in his hair. He’d been so acutely aware of every brush of her fingers, every shift of her body against his back, the soft press of her thighs against his shoulders.

He’d told himself it wasn’t anything—it was just two friends sharing a moment of comfort after a long day. But deep down... he’d known that it was something more. And so had she.

Then there was last night, where she’d looked like she belonged in another world entirely. That dress, that laugh, the way her eyes had lingered on him like he was the only one in the room. The way his heart had thundered when she'd leaned in close, the faint brush of her lips against his cheek setting every nerve in his body alight. And certainly not with the way she felt now, utterly irresistible in his arms.

He clenched his jaw, forcing his eyes shut. This was torture—sweet, exquisite torture.

And she had no idea, did she? No idea how deeply she’d undone him over the past two years, how every laugh, every touch, every look had burned into him.

But then she shifted slightly, her arm brushing his chest as she murmured something in her sleep. Sebastian’s stomach tightened, desire flaring low in his body. For Merlin’s sake, he needed to think about something else—anything else—or he was going to lose his mind.

Sebastian sighed and tried to shift his focus. He counted the faint, flickering light from the braziers in the Undercroft, let his eyes wander to the familiar stone walls, tried to think of anything other than how good she felt curled into him. But it was no use. Every breath she took, every soft sound she made, pulled his attention right back to her.

And Merlin help him, she moved again.

Just a small shift, her legs brushing his as she tucked herself closer, her nose burying slightly into his chest. He felt her hips press more firmly against him, and he stiffened, every nerve in his body screaming at him to stay still.

But then he heard it. A soft hum escaping her lips as she blinked her eyes open, her lashes fluttering like the wings of a butterfly. She shifted her head, tilting her face up toward him, and when her gaze met his, the world seemed to stop.

"Sebastian?" Her voice was soft and groggy, her brows furrowing slightly as she took him in. "You're awake already?"

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to return her smile despite the heat still coursing through his veins. "Morning, sleepyhead," he murmured, his voice lower than he intended. "Sleep well?"

She nodded, her smile growing as she stretched slightly, her body pressing against his in ways that made him want to groan. She didn't seem to notice—or if she did, she didn't say anything. "I did. You make a decent pillow."

Sebastian huffed out a quiet laugh, though his mind was reeling. He tried to focus on her words, on anything other than the fact that her body was positioned so intimately against him, her scent enveloping him and driving him to distraction.

"You're staring," she said, her tone teasing but her cheeks flushing faintly.

"Can you blame me?" The words slipped out before Sebastian could stop them, and her eyes widened slightly. "I mean-" He cleared his throat, trying to backtrack. "You, uh, look different when you're not threatening to hex me."

Her laugh was quiet but genuine, and it sent a rush of warmth through him. "Different how?"

Sebastian hesitated, his mind scrambling for an answer that wouldn’t reveal the absolute mess of feelings currently overwhelming him.

“Just… relaxed, softer,” he said finally. His eyes flicked over her face, drinking in every detail. “Not that you don’t always look good—because you do. It’s just… different when you’re not smirking at me like you’re plotting my demise.”

Her cheeks darkened at the compliment, but she didn’t look away. Instead, her lips quirked into a faint smile, and she tilted her head. “That’s because I’m too tired to plot anything right now. Give me a few hours.”

He smirked, grateful for the teasing, but it did little to distract him from how she seemed to be studying him, her hazel eyes searching his face like she was trying to read his mind. He held his breath, unsure of what she might find, unsure if she could see the raw longing that he was barely keeping in check. Then, to his relief—and slight frustration—she dropped her gaze, her fingers idly playing with the edge of her camisole strap.

Sebastian’s eyes followed her fingers, his own fingers itching to follow. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to pull the strap back up, shielding the creamy skin of her shoulder and collarbone from his view, or if he wanted to give in to the darker temptation to pull it down further, to reveal the soft, tantalizing curves he’d only ever dared to imagine.

And oh, how he’d imagined.

It wasn’t just last night, though her dress had left so little to the imagination that his thoughts had been impossible to control. No, he’d spent years wondering, picturing what she might look like beneath her robes or a gown like that. Not that he’d ever dared to stare (at least, not so conspicuously), but he wasn’t blind. He couldn’t be around her without noticing how round her hips were, how squishable her ass looked, how generous her breasts were.

His gaze dipped lower, drawn almost against his will to the cleavage dipping into her camisole. He swallowed hard, his throat dry, his heart hammering in his chest.

What would they feel like? His mind betrayed him with the question. What would her breasts feel like in his hands? They looked so soft, so full—how far would they spread out beyond his palms? Would her skin feel as warm and smooth as he imagined?

A sharp pulse of heat shot through him again, and he had to shift slightly, turning his hips away from her to hide the growing evidence of his reaction. He bit the inside of his cheek hard, trying to focus on something else. Grindylows... detention... bubotuber pus...

"Sebastian?" Her voice jolted him back to the present, and he blinked, his gaze snapping to her face. She was looking at him curiously, her head tilted slightly.

“Hm?” he managed, his voice hoarse.

“You’re being quiet,” she said, her brow arching slightly. “Usually, you’d be running your mouth by now.”

“Just tired,” he said quickly, forcing a lopsided grin. “You kept me awake all night, y’know.”

Her brow furrowed, and she gave him an incredulous look. “What?” she said, scoffing as she propped herself up slightly on one elbow. “How?! I don’t snore.”

“You’re right,” he said, his grin widening as he latched onto the distraction. “You don’t snore. But you do talk in your sleep.”

Her eyes widened. “I do not!” she protested, her voice indignant but laced with a hint of nervous laughter. “You’re making that up.”

“Oh, I wish I were,” Sebastian teased, his grin turning devilish as he leaned back slightly, enjoying the way she flustered so easily. “You were mumbling all sorts of things. Something about cauldrons… and maybe a Hippogriff? Honestly, it was hard to remember. You were rambling.”

She gasped, her mouth dropping open in outrage as she swatted at his chest. “Liar! I do not talk about cauldrons in my sleep.”

“And how exactly would you know?” he countered, his tone light and teasing. “Next time, I’ll have to take notes.”

Her laughter faded and she flopped back down beside him, her head resting on the pillow as she turned to face him again. Her hair spilled over her shoulder, and her expression softened, the teasing glint in her eyes replaced by something quieter, more contemplative.

“Do I really talk in my sleep?” she asked, her voice softer now, almost shy.

Sebastian hesitated for a beat, caught off guard by the shift in her tone. He could have kept teasing her, but something about the way she looked at him—her eyes wide and curious, her face just inches from his—made him want to be honest.

“Not last night,” he admitted finally. “You do sometimes, but I really don’t mind at all. It’s… you have a nice voice, even if you’re mumbling about cauldrons.”

Sebastian watched as her cheeks flushed deeper, the soft pink spreading all the way to her ears. She didn’t respond immediately, her gaze flickering downward as if she was too embarrassed to meet his eyes.

He thought she might let the conversation drop, but then, after a moment, she glanced up at him again, her expression almost shy.

“Did… any of the other girls you’ve spent the night with talk in their sleep?” she asked quietly.

The question caught him completely off guard. His chest tightened, and for a brief, panicked moment, he didn’t know how to respond.

Eventually, he let out a soft sigh, his voice lower when he finally spoke. “Honestly? I rarely stayed the night with anyone,” he told her, his brow furrowing slightly as he met her gaze. “It only happened a few times, and even then, I was usually so passed out I wouldn’t have noticed if they’d recited the entire potions textbook in their sleep.”

He tried for a small, self-deprecating smirk, but the truth of it weighed heavier than he’d expected. “And I didn’t… stick around in the mornings, either. I didn’t exactly care enough to.”

Evangeline didn’t respond immediately, and that silence was somehow worse than her saying something judgmental or dismissive. Instead, she just looked at him, her hazel eyes narrowed as though she was weighing his words. Her expression was unreadable, and it set his nerves on edge. What was she thinking? Was she disappointed? He hated not knowing.

“What about you?” he asked abruptly, his voice laced with a nervous edge he tried to mask. “Did Alaric or Lysander or… anyone else you might have been with have any silly sleeping habits? Snoring, kicking in their sleep…?”

The question slipped out before he could stop himself, and the moment the words were out, he regretted them. Just the thought of her being with someone else sent a sharp, bitter twist through his stomach, and he couldn’t quite mask the tension in his voice.

Evangeline blinked at him, her eyes widening slightly in surprise. Then her expression softened, and she tilted her head slightly, studying him. “Sebastian I… I’ve never spent the night with anyone else.”

He stared at her, trying to process what she’d just said, the implications swirling in his mind. No Alaric, no Lysander, no nameless faces to torment his imagination. No one else. No one had ever held her like this, seen her like this, woken up next to her like this. Just… him.

“Really?” he blurted.

Evangeline’s cheeks flushed a deeper pink, and she looked away, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the pillow. “Don’t let it go to your head or something.”

“I’m not,” he said quickly, though he knew he absolutely was. He just… hadn’t expected that. He didn’t know what he expected her to say, but it wasn’t that.

A rush of emotions swept through him—relief, pride, possessiveness. And, beneath it all, the overwhelming realization that she had chosen to share this with him. That she trusted him enough to admit it.

“I just—” He hesitated, struggling to find the right words. “I guess I just assumed…”

Evangeline swallowed hard, clearly flustered by the direction the conversation had taken. Her fingers twisted in the edge of the pillowcase, and she hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“I mean… when I was with Alaric,” she began, her words slow and deliberate, “I did… spend time at his flat in the evenings. And yes, we were… intimate. Not all the way of course.” She paused, her gaze flickering to him briefly before she looked away again, clearly uneasy. “But I never stayed over. Not once.”

Sebastian felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. He already knew—or at least, he’d always assumed—that she’d been with Alaric in that way. It wasn’t as though it was a secret, and it wasn’t like he had any right to feel hurt about it. He’d been snogging half the girls in school while she’d been with Alaric, for Merlin’s sake. He wasn’t exactly one to throw stones.

And yet, hearing her say it, hearing her admit it aloud, still hurt. It was a dull, aching kind of pain, low in his chest, a mix of jealousy and something else he couldn’t quite name. He forced himself to breathe, to push past the initial wave of emotion and focus on what she was actually saying.

Because she wasn’t saying it to hurt him. If anything, the way her voice wavered slightly, the way she avoided his gaze, made it clear that this wasn’t easy for her to admit. She wasn’t being petty or vindictive—she was just… being honest. And he had no right to fault her for that. Not when he’d been anything but perfect himself.

He nodded slowly, his throat tight. “And… what was it like?” The words slipped out before he could stop them, quiet but steady. His throat tightened as he realized what he’d said, but he didn’t backtrack. “With Alaric, I mean. When you were together.”

Evangeline froze, her eyes snapping up to meet his, wide and startled. Her flush deepened to a vivid red, and she blinked at him like she wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly.

Sebastian winced inwardly, but he couldn’t bring himself to take the question back. He knew it was a terrible idea to ask, knew he was setting himself up for pain—but the curiosity burned in his chest, sharp and insistent. He needed to know. He wasn’t sure why, exactly. Maybe because the idea of her with Alaric—kissing him, touching him, trusting him—had haunted him for so long. Or maybe because he just wanted to understand her better, to know the things she had shared with someone else, so he could imagine how he might make her feel if he ever got the chance.

Evangeline hesitated. She looked torn, as though she wanted to change the subject entirely but also felt compelled to answer. Finally, after a long pause, she exhaled softly, her gaze dropping to the space between them.

“Honestly… it was nice,” she admitted, her voice quiet but steady. “He was very respectful, very patient. And I’m glad for that, I guess. That my first experience was with someone I felt comfortable with at the time. I’ve heard enough horror stories from other girls to know it could’ve been much worse.”

Sebastian clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay silent, though every word sent another sharp twist through his chest. He hated how jealous he felt, hated the image of Alaric being the one to share that kind of intimacy with her, even though he knew he had no right to feel that way.

But then her expression changed, a flicker of something darker crossing her face. “It’s tainted now, of course,” she continued, her voice quieter. “After what he did to me—how he betrayed me. It makes it hard to look back on anything we shared without feeling… bitter.”

Sebastian’s chest tightened further, anger flaring briefly at the reminder of what Alaric had done, but before he could speak, she shook her head and pressed on.

“Even when we were courting, though,” she said, her blush deepening, “I started to realize that we weren’t exactly… compatible.”

That caught his attention. His curiosity burned even hotter now, the need to understand what she meant overriding the jealousy that still lingered in the back of his mind. “Not compatible?” he echoed, his voice low and careful. “What do you mean?”

Evangeline froze again, her blush spreading to her neck and ears. She looked utterly mortified, her lips parting as though she wanted to answer but couldn’t find the words.

“I-I mean…” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… Alaric was very… nice. And that’s not a bad thing, but…” She trailed off, her eyes darting away from him as she bit her lip.

Sebastian’s pulse quickened. “But?”

Evangeline groaned softly, burying her face in her hands for a moment before peeking at him through her fingers; she looked thoroughly embarrassed. “Do you really need to know?” she asked, her voice muffled.

“Yes,” Sebastian said instantly, surprising even himself with the force of his answer.

She groaned again. After a long pause, she finally dropped her hands, though she still couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “Fine,” she muttered. “It’s just… Alaric was nice, but… too nice, you know? And I think I realized pretty quickly that I didn’t find him… dominant enough.”

The words hung in the air between them, and Sebastian felt like he’d been struck by lightning.

“Dominant enough,” he repeated, his voice rougher than he intended, his gaze locked on her. She nodded quickly, even as she avoided his eyes.

Sebastian's breath hitched, his throat tightening as her words sank in, reverberating through him like a shockwave. He hadn’t been expecting that—hadn’t even dared to hope for it—and yet, the revelation hit him square in the chest, leaving him reeling. He fought to keep his expression neutral, but the effort was futile. A wave of heat surged through him, sharp and all-consuming, making it impossible to ignore the visceral response her admission provoked.

Satisfaction swelled within him, dark and possessive, coiling tightly in his chest like a serpent. The thought that she needed more, that she needed someone who could take control, ignited something primal in him. She hadn’t found that with Alaric. No, Alaric had been too soft, too hesitant, too unwilling to step up and meet her where she needed to be.

But with him?

Sebastian clenched his jaw, his fists tightening against the mattress as the thought unfurled in his mind, unbidden and undeniable. With him, it would be different. He could give her what she craved. He could challenge her, match her fire with his own, and take her to places she’d never even dreamed of.

He couldn’t stop imagining it now—her, soft and pliant beneath him, her lips parted in surrender, her body arching into his as she gave herself over completely, as she submitted to him. He swallowed hard, fighting to keep his composure as his gaze flicked over her flushed face.

The idea of someone as fiercely independent and headstrong as Evangeline yielding to him, trusting him, letting him guide her… it made the heat pooling low in his stomach almost unbearable.

Realizing he’d been silent too long, Sebastian let out a soft chuckle, though the sound slightly strained. “Honestly,” he managed, “it sounds like Alaric just didn’t know what he was doing.”

Evangeline’s eyes narrowed, her lips twitching like she was trying not to smile. “Don’t be an ass,” she muttered, though there was no real bite in her words.

Sebastian smirked. “What? I’m just saying, if he couldn’t keep up with you, that’s his problem, not yours.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, and the sight sent another wave of heat through him. He leaned back slightly, his smirk softening into something warmer, more genuine.

“Seriously, Evie,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter. “You deserve someone who gets you. Someone who can give you what you need.”

Evangeline paused, her blush spreading all the way to the tips of her ears as she seemed to consider his words. Her hazel eyes flicked toward him briefly, then darted away, but there was something playful in her expression, a glimmer of mischief that immediately set Sebastian on edge—in the best and worst way.

“Yeah,” she said finally, her voice still soft but tinged with something more teasing. “But… whoever it is would need to be able to handle a bit of a brat.”

Sebastian froze, his mind grinding to a halt as her words sank in.

She kept going, clearly not realizing the damage she was doing. “Just because I want to be dominated doesn’t mean I’m going to make it easy for them. I’m not exactly the type to just… roll over and—”

The second the words were out of her mouth, her eyes went wide, and she clapped her hands over her mouth so fast it made a faint smack. “I—” she started to stammer through her fingers, her face blazing red. “I didn’t mean—! I wasn’t trying to—!”

Sebastian, meanwhile, could feel his soul leaving his body. He couldn’t stop the loud, disbelieving laugh that escaped him as he flipped back onto the mattress, his arm draped over his face as he tried to process what she’d just said.

It was as though the world had shifted on its axis, and he wasn’t sure he could handle it. His mind conjured images he had no business imagining—images of Evangeline challenging him, teasing him, deliberately pushing his buttons until he put her in her place. Images of her giving in, her body completely open beneath him, all the fight melting away as she finally surrendered.

“Holy fuck, Evie,” he groaned, his voice rough and strained.

Evangeline peeked at him through her fingers, her blush now so deep it had spread to her neck and ears. “I didn’t mean to say that!” she said quickly, her voice high-pitched and defensive. “It just slipped out!”

“Well, you can’t exactly put it back!” Sebastian exclaimed, his voice muffled by the crook of his arm. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at her, afraid that if he did, he might actually combust. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to die right here, right now.”

Evangeline let out a mortified laugh, though it sounded more like a strangled squeak. “You’re not going to die,” she muttered, “You’re being dramatic.”

Sebastian finally moved his arm, glancing at her with wide, incredulous eyes. “I’m being dramatic?” he repeated, his voice incredulous. “You just admitted that you’re a brat who wants to be dominated in bed, and I’m being dramatic?”

She groaned, burying her face in her hands again, but this time, there was a hint of laughter in the sound. “Sebastian, stop,” she pleaded, her voice muffled.

Sebastian let out a shaky breath, dragging both hands through his hair like it might somehow clear the absolute onslaught of images flooding his mind. “I can’t stop, Evie,” he said finally, his voice low and strained, almost like a growl. “How am I supposed to stop when you just casually say something so—you can’t just… say things like that and expect me to carry on like a normal person.”

Evangeline peeked out from behind her fingers again, her cheeks blazing but her eyes glinting with something like nervous amusement. “I said it by accident, it’s not like-“ She cut herself off, groaning again as she buried her face in her hands. “Oh my God, I hate you.”

Sebastian’s lips twitched, and despite the chaos in his head—and the heat pooling low in his stomach—he couldn’t help the smirk that curved his mouth. “You don’t hate me,” he said smoothly, leaning back against the headboard and crossing his arms, his tone almost teasing. “You’re just embarrassed because now I know your deepest, darkest secret.”

She shot him a glare from between her fingers, her voice sharp despite her clear mortification. “It’s not my deepest, darkest secret.”

“Oh?” Sebastian arched an eyebrow, his smirk widening as he tilted his head, feigning casual curiosity. “So there’s more?”

Her eyes widened, and she immediately turned away, smacking him with a pillow as she let out a strangled laugh. “Sebastian, I swear to Merlin, if you don’t shut up—”

“You’ll what?” he challenged, grabbing the pillow mid-swing and tossing it aside. He leaned closer, his grin equal parts playful and wicked as he watched her squirm. “Come on, Evie. You know you can’t threaten me now. Not when I’ve just learned the most important piece of information about you.”

She rolled her eyes, groaning as she flopped back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “This is the worst day of my life,” she muttered, though the laughter in her voice betrayed her.

Sebastian laughed, the sound low and warm as he lay back beside her, his head turned just enough to watch her face. For all her embarrassment, there was something endearing about the way she fidgeted with the hem of her shirt and avoided his gaze. She looked… vulnerable, in a way he rarely saw, and it sent a pang through his chest that had nothing to do with lust.

“Hey,” he said softly after a moment, his voice losing its teasing edge. When she glanced at him, her brows furrowed slightly, he smiled—small and genuine. “For what it’s worth… I don’t think it’s embarrassing. I think it’s… it’s a good thing. That you know what you want.”

Evangeline hesitated before she gave him a small, almost shy smile, her voice soft. “Thanks."

But then something shifted in her expression—a spark of mischief, a glimmer of payback. Sebastian’s instincts flared, and he narrowed his eyes slightly, sensing trouble brewing.

“You know,” she began, her voice deceptively sweet, “since you’re clearly so… experienced, with all your late-night escapades…” She trailed off, her eyes glinting with amusement as she watched his smirk falter slightly.

“Evie…” he warned, but she was already leaning in, her confidence growing as she continued.

“It’s only fair you share with the class,” she said innocently, tilting her head in mock curiosity. “I mean, you clearly know what you want, right?"

Sebastian’s brain stalled, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to come up with a response. “That’s… not—”

“Come on, Sebastian,” she teased, her tone practically dripping with mockery. “Surely you’ve figured it out by now. What’s your preference?”

His face heated, and he shot her a glare, but the way she was looking at him—equal parts smug and curious—only made it worse.

“Oh, don’t be shy,” she pressed, clearly enjoying herself. “You were the one prying into my preferences not two minutes ago. I think it’s only fair."

Sebastian groaned, flopping back against the headboard and covering his face with his hands. “I can’t believe this is happening."

Evangeline just grinned wider, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “So? What is it, Sebastian? What do you want?”

What do I want? The answer burned in his chest, too raw, too real to say out loud. Evie, I want you. The thought hit him like a hammer every time he looked at her, every time she laughed, every time she pushed him in ways no one else ever dared to. He wanted her. All of her—her sharp wit, her fierce independence, her vulnerability when she let her guard down. And now, knowing what she needed, what she craved… it made the wanting unbearable.

But he couldn’t tell her that. Not now. Not like this.

Sebastian let his hands drop, his gaze locking onto hers as he leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a low, teasing drawl. “What I want,” he began, his eyes glinting with something that made her smile falter slightly, “is for you to stop asking me such personal questions.”

Her jaw dropped, and she let out an indignant laugh, smacking his arm with the pillow. “You’re such an ass."

Sebastian chuckled, leaning back and raising his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, you asked for it,” he said, his grin returning. “Besides, do you really think I’m going to spill all my secrets just because you’re curious?”

"Yes," she replied without hesitation, her grin widening as she tilted her head at him, feigning an innocent expression that didn’t fool him for a second.

Sebastian held her gaze, his heart pounding as he considered his next words. He couldn’t tell her everything—not yet—but he could give her something. Just enough to satisfy her curiosity without giving himself away completely.

“Fine, fine. I want... someone who challenges me, who doesn’t just let me win for the sake of it. Someone who can keep up with me,” he said finally. “But someone who knows when to let me lead. Someone who trusts me enough to give me that.” He leaned forward slightly, his tone dropping lower. "It shouldn't surprise you Evie that I like to... be in control."

Evangeline blinked, her cheeks darkening again as his words sank in. She looked flustered, and it sent a surge of satisfaction through him. “That’s…” she started, but her voice trailed off, and she looked away, biting her lip.

“That’s what?” Sebastian pressed, his grin softening but his gaze intent.

Sebastian’s gaze stayed locked on her as she fidgeted. She was quiet now, her sharp wit momentarily dulled, and he could practically see the gears turning in her head. He watched her carefully, the way her fingers twisted in the hem of her shirt, the way her teeth sank into her bottom lip. She wasn’t just flustered—she was thinking.

And he knew exactly what was going through her mind, because it was the same thing that had hit him like a thunderclap just a moment ago: they were a perfect match.

The realization was written all over her face, even if she wouldn’t say it out loud. She’d always been so fiercely independent, so determined to handle everything on her own, but now, after their conversation, after everything that had been said and left unsaid, he could see her piecing it together. The way he balanced her, the way she challenged him. The way they fit together, like two pieces of a puzzle that had always been meant to slot into place.

And Sebastian knew. He knew she was thinking it because things between them had long since crossed the line of friendship. They’d been toeing that line for weeks—carefully, cautiously, as though afraid to look too closely at what lay on the other side. And yet, here they were, waking up side by side, after everything that had happened last night.

Now, as the dim light of the Undercroft cast soft shadows over her face, her crimson blush betrayed her thoughts, painting across her cheeks and down her neck. Her lips pressed together in that familiar way, a telltale sign she was holding back, her mind clearly whirring as she tried to contain whatever had risen to the surface. But Sebastian could see it—could feel it, in the charged air between them.

She knew. Just as well as he did. Things weren’t just friends anymore.

But he couldn’t say it either. He couldn’t speak it into existence, couldn’t give voice to the raw, overwhelming truth that had settled in his chest like a heavy weight. Couldn't name this thing between them and risk breaking it. Because that meant risking her. And that was something Sebastian couldn't bear.

For over two years, she had been his constant—his anchor in the storm of his own reckless choices and the darkness that had threatened to swallow him whole. When everything else had crumbled around him, she had stood by his side. She had been his light in the darkness, his reason to keep fighting even when he felt like giving up.

And because of that, he’d convinced himself that she could never want more from him than what they already had. How could she? She deserved better. Better than someone who had made so many mistakes, who carried so much guilt and regret, who still struggled to forgive himself for the things he’d done. Someone who didn’t have so much darkness lingering just beneath the surface.

But then, she sighed softly, the sound pulling his attention back to her like a magnet. Her hands rested in her lap now and her expression had softened. She wasn’t teasing anymore, wasn’t trying to hide behind sarcasm or banter. She looked… vulnerable. Open. And it made his heart ache all the more.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked quietly.

Sebastian hesitated, his throat tight. He wanted to tell her. Wanted to say everything that was clawing at his chest, threatening to spill over. But instead, he forced a small, crooked smile and shrugged. “Nothing,” he said lightly.

Evangeline’s brows furrowed slightly, her hazel eyes narrowing in disbelief. “Liar,” she said softly, her voice laced with both teasing and concern. “You’ve got that look.”

“What look?” Sebastian asked, feigning innocence as he leaned back against the headboard, crossing his arms over his chest.

She tilted her head, studying him intently. “The one where you’re overthinking something and trying really hard not to say it,” she replied matter-of-factly. “And you’re terrible at hiding it, by the way.”

Sebastian chuckled, though it sounded hollow even to his own ears. “Am I?” he said, trying to deflect, “Maybe I just have a lot on my mind. You’re exhausting, you know.”

Evangeline didn’t laugh this time. Instead, she leaned forward slightly, her expression softening as she reached out, her hand brushing lightly against his arm. “Sebastian,” she said quietly, her voice gentle but firm. “You can tell me. Whatever it is.”

His breath caught, and for a moment, he couldn’t look at her. “I know."

He reached for her hand, his fingers brushing against hers as her intertwined them. She startled slightly, her eyes snapping to his, but she didn’t pull away. Her fingers stilled, and for a moment, the air between them was charged with something heavy, something unspoken but undeniable.

Sebastian swallowed hard, his voice soft when he finally spoke. “You know I’d do anything for you, right?”

Evangeline blinked, her lips parting slightly as she stared at him. She looked like she wanted to say something, but whatever it was, she held it back. Instead, she gave him a small, almost hesitant nod. “I know,” she said quietly.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice rougher than he intended. “Just… don’t forget it.”

For a moment, they simply sat there, the silence between them heavy but not uncomfortable. Her hand was still in his, her fingers warm and steady.

He forced a small smile and leaned back against the headboard, his thumb brushing idly over the back of her hand. “You know,” he said lightly, trying to inject some levity into his tone, “for someone who claims this is the worst day of their life, you’re awfully content to sit here holding my hand.”

"More than content." She said softly, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at her lips as her fingers shifted slightly in his grip,

Sebastian’s heart stumbled in his chest, the words hitting him harder than they should have. She wasn’t teasing, wasn’t trying to hide behind her usual sharp humor. She was just… honest. Simple and raw in a way that felt so much more intimate than anything else she could have said. It was devastating.

The quiet between them stretched out again, but this time it was warm, comfortable. Sebastian let his gaze wander, studying the curve of her profile, the way her lips parted ever so slightly as she exhaled. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to tell her, but the words caught in his throat, heavy and unyielding.

What was between them now—it was fragile, delicate, like a string pulled taut, vibrating with unspoken truth. If he spoke, if he gave voice to everything he felt, everything he wanted… what if it snapped? What if he ruined the one thing that had kept him steady all this time?

He’d always been reckless, impulsive, diving headfirst into things without thinking about the consequences. But this—her—he couldn’t risk it.

So he convinced himself—tried to convince himself—that this, whatever this unspoken thing was between them, was enough.

It had to be enough.

Because even if he couldn’t have all of her—even if he couldn’t claim her in the way his heart ached to—he still had this. Her hand in his. Her laughter filling the silence. Her warmth beside him as the rest of the world faded away.

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