#the hollows reader insert

[mydearestbeloved]

Masterlist 🦋✨️

My Writings' Guide:

Red: Incomplete / Editing / Drafts

Blue: Complete

Chapters: In chronological order

Unknown: Not in any particular order

⚠️Please mind the Content Warnings put in place, especially for Mature*-related posts.

[ Reader discretion advised. ] ⚠️

_____

Solo Leveling

Trial Player AU

Status: Ongoing

Preview: Daydream

Chapters: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5], [6], [7], [8], [9], [10], [11], [12], [13], [14], [15], [16], [17], [18], [19], [20], [21], [22], [23], [24], [25], [26], [27], To be continued . . .

Unknown: [Nighttime Musings], [?.2], [?.3], [Happy Birthday, Jinwoo], [The You I Love], [Same AU, Different Stages]

Related Asks:

TP!Reader's powers explained: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

How I write this series: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5], [6], [7], [8], [9], [10], [11], [12]

Miscellaneous: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5], [6], [7*], [8], [9], [10], [11*], [12], [13*], [14*], [15], [16]

Illustrations/Fanarts: [1], [2], [3]

Inspirations: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5], [6], [7], [8], [9], [10], [11], [12], [13]

Others: [1], [2], [3], [4], [4.5], [5], [6]

Recent Updates:

Added fight scene in the draft of chapter 6, parts of the original moved to draft of chapter 5 [13/11/2024]

Added more details in the draft of chapter 10, parts of the original moved to draft of chapter 11 [16/11/2024]

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Want to know more about my stories? Or share anything else? Feel free to ask and I shall answer them in the tag: #Hollow's Talks

[beelaboola]

selfshipping my medicine my cure 🫶🫶

[technoartist]

Here's some art that I've made based off of a reader-insert and Zote (platonic) fan fiction that I've been planning!

(More info under the cut since I don't wanna clog up anybody's feeds, lol)

It's supposed to be "a human gets stuck in Hallownest" situation, but with a heavier focus on the language barrier. Both English and the Hallownest language are entirely alien to one-another, and I'm specifically refusing to give myself any cop-outs around it - the only way they can understand each other is either through gestures or learning each other's languages the slow way. (pray for me and my subpar writing skills.)

I was originally going to make it a romantic Zote x Reader fic because I am Very Very Normal About Him I Promise You, but I was inspired to make it platonic instead after seeing so many people headcanon him as aroace.

I think it gives the growing dynamic between the two of them a bit more room to naturally grow (plus, we could always use more platonic reader fics!). I'll probably still write some romantic stuff about them, but I'll keep it in a separate collection.

I've already written the first chapter, but I have a tendency to drop projects as quickly as I pick them up, so I was thinking of writing a few more chapters before I put any of them up on Ao3.

Here's a few snippets of it! Ignore the comic sans-

Also, do you guys have any good title ideas? My current ideas are:

My Nieghbor Human, Hijinks Ensue (this is my current working title), It Came From Kingdom’s Edge!, Zote and his Unusually Large Mammal, The Reader and The Worst, Lazy Days, Precept Six: Choose Your Own Fate, and Language Barrier.

[justawriterofthings]

i like to write about pretty anime bois

list in the tags (but i will take suggestions since im sure i miss some babes)

[serqphites]

posting alison miller period!comfort in the morning bc a bitch be hurting and i need my blue collar wife to massage my abdomen and reassure me that the pain will eventually stop

[plague-of-insomnia]

what do we do when we’re depressed and anxious??

play scarlet hollow… again

[illmoraineakoi]

I write a bunch of human x HKCharacter Fics, and I’m curious as to what ideas others either use or enjoy. Or what people find is the most believable. For this, I generally consider HK characters to be roughly person sized (THK being ~7 foot sorta scale)

Elaborations of the options:

Space Ship Crash Landing: Pretty self explanatory. A Sci-fi set up, with the HK world being an exoplanet. Humans develop the technology to travel through the galaxy/universe and crashes onto the HK planet Subnautica style. Sometimes ignores canon of all of Hallownest being underground.

Cryosleep/Other Stasis: Another Sci-fi set up, this time with the HK world actually being a distant future Earth. Humanity used advanced tech to go to sleep for some reason, and either wake up themselves to find the world in a state they hadn’t anticipated, or they get found and woken up by characters. The existence of magic clashes heavily with this idea.

Magic Displacement: The human/humans just suddenly find themselves on a different world for unknown, potentially never explained, reasons. Could be the work of a God. Could just be Plot Magic. The author might not even know. Allows for a large amount of freedom the explore humans in Hallownest at the severe cost of believability (unless it’s done with skill.) Can be ambiguous on if the HK world is different from the human one. Could even be a different magic dimension.

Summoning: Similar to above, but the human/humans are summoned via magic by a means that’s at least a little explained, usually a ritual of some sort.

Magic Resurrection/Genetic Reconstruction: HK world used to be the earth, and humans used to live on it in the distant past. But they’ve been extinct for a long time, only they’re ruins and corpses remain. Someone decides to try to Jurassic Park them, with fancy bug magic.

Void: The human/humans are just yoinked through space and potentially time by the Void. Either intentionally or randomly. It’s never elaborated upon on how the void has done this. It’s the Void, that’s like the HK community’s Swiss army goop. It can do whatever the author needs it to do, don’t ask questions.

Humans already exist: The HK world exists in either a magically hidden bubble space on the surface, or deep underground where it hasn’t been discovered yet. The existence of magic again hinders the believability.

Jumangi-d into the game: Allows for the human/humans to have a previously existing knowledge of the lore/main events. Allows for some time travel fix-it esqe shenanigans (and the angst that comes with consequences of making those changes.) Method of spontaneous digitalization/displacement is usually not explained. Similar to magic displacement above, could even work in tandem. Allows humans to flex on the Radiance for technically being her god. Could take a step further and give the human access to “modding” or “debug” abilities to the world itself.

[imaginetheywerereal]

Short Story: Ghosts of the Hollow

kay so just finished The Hollow. loved it. mostly watched it for the Weird Guy lol. Gustaf. The Game Host. so yes this is Gustaf(Weirdy) x Reader. the bit after the haunted metro. and Skeet lives. because add one thing and the rest is changed anyway:p oh uh btw real you died so mentions of death not graphic. season 2 stuff. so also spoilers ig? bit of angst some cute. some eh ig.

The Hollow Games were never meant to be easy, but this was something else entirely. Gustaf stood alone in the darkened corridors of the haunted metro station, the weight of guilt heavy on his shoulders. The flickering lights cast eerie shadows, making the environment feel even more oppressive.

You and the kids had navigated the haunted metro, dealing with the ghost train, and now you all had one goal in mind: finding a way to go home. Having been stuck in the game after every reset since your last game ten or fifteen years earlier, you were the most experienced. The kids, including Skeet who was alive thanks to your healing powers, looked to you for guidance, sensing you had been there the longest.

Finally, the journey led you to the jazz club, where Gustaf was meant to perform. Inside, the melancholy notes of the band echoed in the dimly lit space. You noticed things from the "previous game" but different—Benjamini, Benjamin, Death, and the Horsemen were there, but none of them remembered the kids or you. The kids were just starting to piece things together. You're used to it.

As Gustaf sat alone on the stage, playing the piano, the haunting melody of "Creep" by Radiohead filled the air. The lyrics were heavy with sorrow, and he was lost in the music. "I'm not supposed to be here," he sang, unaware of your presence.

Desperate to get his attention, the kids tried everything from using their powers to screaming at him. Each attempt was thwarted by Benjamini, Benjamin, and the crowd, leaving you no choice but to wait. You knew Gustaf would eventually come into the crowd like he always did—he was the crowd-walking performer type.

When Gustaf made his way through the crowd, he barely stuttered in his song when the kids finally reached him. "You're not supposed to be here!"

But when he saw you, he broke out of his trance. His eyes widened in shock and recognition.

"Are you real? Are you really here?" he asked, his voice filled with disbelief.

"Yes, I'm here," you answered, stepping closer.

"I wish you were," he whispered again, this time with a mixture of hope and sorrow.

"I am real, at least I feel real, Gustaf," you replied.

"I mean, I wish I could see you again."

"I don't understand. You can?"

"No. I can't. You're... the other you, the real you, is dead. I—I killed you. Not literally. But if it wasn't for me, you—the real you would still be alive."

"Stop. Stop saying that," you insisted, reaching out to him. "I am real, Gustaf. I'm real. This is real. Help us. Help them. Please."

Gustaf's shoulders slumped, the weight of his guilt almost too much to bear. He could see the desperation in your eyes, the plea for understanding. Despite everything, he couldn't ignore the connection he felt, the bond that defied logic.

"I'll help you," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it's hard. Knowing what I know."

You nodded, your expression softening. "I know it's hard. But we're here now, and we need you."

As the band played a slow, mournful tune, you stepped closer to him. "May I have this dance?" you asked, your voice a gentle whisper.

He hesitated for a moment, then took your hand, pulling you into a slow, somber dance. The music wrapped around you both, a reminder of the losses and the love that still lingered.

"I wish things were different," Gustaf murmured.

"So do I," you replied, resting your head on his shoulder. "But for now, let's just be here. Together."

In that moment, amidst the haunted echoes and the lingering guilt, you found a small measure of peace. The dance, though tinged with sorrow, was a reminder that even in the darkest times, there was still a connection, a bond that refused to be broken.

As the music faded, Gustaf held you a little tighter. "Thank you," he whispered. "For being real to me."

"And thank you," you replied, "for not giving up."

One of the kids, unable to hold back any longer, interrupted the moment. "Uh, hello? We came here to ask for help on how to get home. Not to do...whatever you two are doing."

You and Gustaf shared a small, sad smile before turning your attention back to the task at hand. Together, you would find a way to get everyone home. Even if it meant you wouldn't.

[roxy-bat-wolf-pack]

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️ If I were to make a reader insert pixie hollow fic, would you guys be interested in the reader having a love interest? If so, who?

Comment and let me know if you have anyone in particular in mind.

[mydearestbeloved]

Husband!(Jinwoo): "(Name) is my wife, my only one in the multiverse, and I will tear everything apart if she's taken as much as a step away from me. Don't even try. Can she still scare me? Yes. But she's the only one who can while also makes me horny 'cause it's her, my goddess, and I'm her first and only."

THIS^^

I love this

I love yandere jinwoo oml-

Ohoh~ If you're already excited about that, dear Anon, just wait until I implement these vibes into the story:

{Reminder: These aren’t exact representations of what’ll be in the story, but they’re close enough to what I'm going for TP!Reader and Jinwoo imagined. Basically, the yandere vibes these two might be giving off 🤣}

—1—

Imagine, Jinwoo and (Name) going to a social event . . .

—2—

(Name): "I'm going to take a shower. Care to join me?"

Jinwoo: "Sweetheart, if I ever say no to that question, I want you to shoot me with your scepter."

~based on this. 🤭

—3—

Remember those shadow markings on (Name) and the light butterfly mark on Jinwoo I teased about for the future? (Name) will be the one to put her mark on Jinwoo first. Jinwoo won’t place his on her until later in the story.

So, what’s the actual reason behind (Name) being the first to mark him? Well . . .

Also, (Name) right after putting her mark . . .

—4—

(Name), knowing exactly the meaning behind his gaze. 👀

And Jinwoo at times like this. 🖤💜

—5—

Jinwoo and (Name), eating each other faces be like . . .

—6—

Jinwoo to (Name):

🎼 You were meant to be mine

I am all that you need

You carved open my heart

Can't just leave me to bleed 🎶

~based on this—also, the end of that short sums up (Name)'s exact reaction 🤭

—7—

Jinwoo being his usual yandere self, and (Name) just . . . 😚

—8—

Just (Name) and Jinwoo . . . not having enough of each other. 😆

—9—

This, but reversed—Jinwoo, then (Name). Not that it really matters, since in the end, they’re still obsessed with each other. ❤️‍🔥

—10—

Last but not least, has anyone seen the latest cover of Death Is The Only Ending for The Villainess / Villains Are Destined to Die (Manhwa Season 5)? 😳

This. This! I want THIS exact vibe for Jinwoo and (Name)! 🥺👉👈

[cherrygummycandy]

You'll might finally get some Pixie Hollow fic part twos, cause I'm hooked again. (Hook-ed? Get it?)

[technoartist]

THE ZOTE AND READER FRIENDSHIP FIC

IT IS NOW REAL!!

(Summary under the cut!)

Summary:

One moment, you were leaving your house to go grocery shopping. The next, you’re in an entirely alien world full of bug people that mostly just want to kill you. When you get dragged into a giant skeleton by a pair of helmeted fighters, you meet one bug person in particular. One very, very small bug person. Welp, better to travel with a friend than alone! Now, if only you knew what everybody else is saying…

OR

The reader is a human stuck in Hallownest, but absolutely no way to learn the language other than the hard way. Also, they become besties with Zote because I said so.

[anantaru]

HSR + HE TEACHES YOU

— ꒰ including ꒱ — aventurine, boothill, dr ratio, sunday x fem! reader

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — inexperienced! reader, slightly possessive ?? hsr men, dirty talk, pet names used: baby, good girl, oral (male! receiving), cowgirl, dom ?? but veritas is mean, slightly possessive sunday (he's a little weird, am i right guys?)

— ꒰ AVENTURINE ꒱

aventurine doesn't know what to do with himself other than receive your warm, innocent tongue with open arms, his fleeting gaze radiant like jewels and focused on your mouth splitting so effortlessly when he finally inserts himself between your plush lips.

"please— look at how excited you are," his words made you shudder, although desires and excitement also furnished your mind. it was all there— his handsome voice, his musky scent, the salty taste on your tongue and for you, the new flavor felt weird, yes, slightly bitter when you swallow down.

but aventurine's cock repeatedly rolling over your tongue over and over began to taste like in the most delicious, toe curling way imaginable.

he was thickly warm on your tongue, and heavy, making your jaw slack with ease, "put it in your mouth like that, yes, ahh yes, just like that baby," as you begin to move your head up and down with the help of him, heating him from the inside out.

the little flicker of your tongue intrigued him— the slow, wet susurration of slurping that was sloppy and without a precise way of doing it; but wow, you're so good at this, looking flawless between his legs with a slip of his shadow on your innocent silhouette.

when wicked of lust, his amused eyes smile down at you, grunting inside his hot and bothered chest with your mouth tightly pressed against his shaft before you suckle up again, hollowed cheeks staying content.

aventurine leads you, and tells you to be slow, take your time.

he wants to teach you on how to suck his dick, for possible future needs— because hey? he surely hopes this won't be the last time he would be able to do this with you. not when he can barely wait to touch, stroke and lick you himself.

— ꒰ BOOTHILL ꒱

boothill mentally congratulates himself for keeping his carnal desires in check and sliding himself slowly inside, gruelingly slow that it drove you into insanity.

not to forget on how difficult he found it to hide his visible excitement that you wanted him to be your first, the first person to fill you up with a cock, a thick and hefty cock.

your muscles immediately twitch and the insides of your thighs tense, your body snapping in all the right ways.

"ahh, yeah, good girl, such good girl for me," he slurrs in desperation of wanting more, just more of this, more of you— and oh? what sweet victory to get a literal galaxy ranger to say that out loud.

his eyes glimmer like diamonds as the constant pulse of your walls clamp into his erection, he could no longer think beyond the next touch.

boothill was supposed to be the experienced one out of the two of you yet you make it so intoxicatingly difficult for him to stay focused.

he gasps, arched his back and presses deep, stroking your insides back and forth, coaxing in perfect time with caressing kisses all over your face, "the sound you just made when i slipped it in, ugh, you can't be real," boothill whispers and hisses when you squeeze him, your toes curling at the new feeling of a heavy weight bulking in you, like it's about to reach your belly.

"i'm so lucky i can call you mine," he kisses your bottom lip and focuses on your face— your dizzying and addictive expression that he hoped would be decorated with drool and sweat all over after he's done with making you feel good.

ah well, the man knows it won't take much for you to cum all over him, you're already glistening and showing him how wet you are with the amount of slick sousing your folds and his shaft each time he pulls back, only to snap in all the way inside.

— ꒰ DR RATIO ꒱

"you wanted me to teach you on how to ride me, didn't you?" between your sobs, you manage to huff out a small shut up in an attempt to take away the attention of veritas deliberately holding you down his cock by your hips cruelly.

no sobs, no whines and aims to reason with him seemed to work in your favor nor displayed any form of you actually getting your way.

"i'm not, I mean, i said that but—," a shaken moan departs from your throat when he bottoms out, this time clearly, smirking when your tits move in harmony with his movements.

"now, why are you squirming like that then?" he continues, allowing you to feel him pulse and throb before holding you down entirely.

"you can't take it after all, can you?" with need, you attempt to bounce on him, turning utterly sensitive by the intensity of his cock swelling everywhere, no single inch of your walls left untouched.

you nod and place your hands against his chest as veritas suddenly makes you fall forward by another shove up into your cunt, your tits pressing against his stone-hard chest.

he looks at you through hooded eyes, his jaw clenched as he enjoyed watching the effect he had on you, then he fucks and fucks and fucks into you three times in a row— reckless, daring, blind to reality, making your arousal come out all the more consistent, "oh, you do? you sure?"

"yes I am, ugh, fuck, veritas just let me move already," you bark back, your body convulsing in near-pain and much relief when he rubs your walls over his shaft again. like a second heart beat between your legs, your walls flutter around his erection as you feel your blood rush to every edge and limit in your body. 

"you look a little tense sitting on my cock like that," his hands squeeze your waist as he says it so confidently, in a way that would make you want to smack that pretty, stupidly handsome expression off of him.

but right now, you do not mind, you can always get revenge on him later because even after the slight bickering from before, now he holds you against his chest in a deep embrace.

it's strange, yes, but it feels real.

— ꒰ SUNDAY ꒱

"hey, please," sunday mumbles sincerely as his palm strokes over your trembling thigh, "you're so pretty, don't avert your eyes from me now," and he's awfully good at keeping you in place, holding your legs up just right while telling you to always keep them wrapped around his waist.

it feels better this way, when you practically hold me in like that is what he whispers into your ear the entire night— it's scarcely an audible tone but it's there, right against your lips, the vibrations of his angelic groans alone reaching all the way to your wet cunt.

"you feel so good around me, you know that?" he rolls his hips tentatively, swallowing the saliva in his throat as his hips jerk faster each time you moaned louder.

every single moment when a faint whimper of his name rolls from your tongue, sunday loses a slice of his sanity.

with great effort, he does the most to make you feel insanely well, finding himself entranced by the silkiness of your walls and how easy it was to slip inside you, your slick and sweat streaking your skin and practically inviting him to absolutely ruin you— until your innocent, never touched before, body would take over the musk of him.

it's a perverted fantasy, yes, but sunday needs you to be his.

after this night, he wouldn't want anybody to touch you other than himself. your moans were like an aphrodisiac to him, a drug that felt so good that it made him go feral, rock his hips faster and pinch your pulsing clit until you're creaming all over his shaft.

only then, he will teach you more, perhaps on how to suck his dick later or how you should rest your legs against his shoulders when he goes down on you— fuck, you're just so precious, clenching all over him.

your doe eyes flutter up at his own welcoming ones, and he makes you keep the eye contact until you see it, until you can see into his mind, the one his reality dwells in.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: yandere, captive reader, minor wounds, shackles, mental deterioration

♡ GN reader

“I’m sorry,” he says, looking up at you sheepishly from where he kneels before you, your feet in his lap as he carefully unclasps the second metal cuff from your ankle—leaving roughed skin in its wake, cut raw and swollen as badly as the other. “But, you know, I would have taken them off sooner if you’d been good.”

You don't answer him—not feeling like nodding and agreeing, though not exactly feeling up to doing the opposite anymore either. Tired of it, you remain quiet, and you look away instead—flinching and hissing as he carefully handles the wounds with disinfectant, balm, and bandages.

When he’s done, he rests his cheek on your knee—stroking his hands up and down your claves tenderly. “I really am sorry,” he repeats—voice soft and silken, nuzzling into you with big puppy eyes looking up at you. “You’ll forgive me, won’t you?”

There’s a disturbance in your head—an indecision—toiling and swirling like a storm, making you sweat, almost shiver. Should you behave for once? Do what he wants and avoid another punishment—or do you still feel like fighting? Is your dignity worth it? Do you still wish to take the risk and run now that you’re unfettered and free to try again? Or would you like to finally give it up?

This is a test. You know it. No doubt.

He’ll surely catch you if you try. You know that, too. It’s been proven, and you’re not foolish enough to keep holding onto any such false thing as hope.

So then, why try?

Well, it’s a stupid question, and yet you find yourself contemplating it—whether you should try anyway, even when failure is guaranteed. You think, now that you're really thinking about it, the only thing keeping you going is sheer and hollow principle.

Yes, principle—one based on the understanding that if you try, even if you fail, you can at least say you tried—one where the simple thought of giving is detestable. Back then, even weighing the options was unthinkable. Do or die—no in-between, nothing more or less.

But that fire within feels faint now—a low flame just barely weathering the storm, all alone in the cold, in the dark, just waiting for a final gust to blow it out once and for all.

It's an ugly thought, but you think what you really want isn't to find the strength to keep fighting but for someone to say it's okay to stop. You just want a sanction—a blessing—someone to blow the candle out for you.

And acknowledging that, you might as well blow it out yourself.

If the point holds no value, then fighting for it must be even more empty—right?

You sigh.

“It’s not that bad." Lifting a hand, you run it smoothly through his tousled locks with a smile. “Actually, it already feels better.”

The worst or best part about it is how strangely freeing it is—now that you’ve let go. The trouble of remaining vigilant and hostile is an exhausting feat, and now that you’ve put it to rest, you’re left feeling unfettered—like you can finally breathe again.

He kisses your knee, then rests his chin atop it—giving you a similar smile. “I’m glad.”

♡ BNHA – Deku, Dabi, Hawks, Shinso ♡ JJK – Geto, Gojo, Naoya ♡ HQ – Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Reo, Nagi ♡ DS – Doma ♡ WB – Suo, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[soapcloth]

Statue!Ghost x reader - pt 2

CW: 18+ MDNI, noncon/dubcon elements, size kink, horror aspects, scopophobia, temporary loss of movement, derealization(?), large insertion, reader gets fingered by a statue pt 1 - not edited - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

It’s been getting worse. 

Ever since you became fearful of a giant marble statue prowling around your place of work, the duration of your shifts would stretch out- mangled and twisted by his presence. No one would pass through the warehouse, causing the towering labyrinth of stock to feel more like an ancient crypt than a museum's storage. 

In light of the phrase 'Out of sight, out of mind.' you had employed the company of a radio that hadn't seen daylight since the nineties to chase away the dread laving across your spine. It helped at first, finally letting you plug away at work, but it was shortlived- only lasting a moment before all sounds started to slowly wither away, leaving only you, your thoughts, and the distant scraping echo.

You couldn't decide which you disliked more; when you’d look away only to find him contorted into a new position, or when you actually saw it happen. Things that big, things with no fibrous muscle or supporting bone to speak of should not be able to move.

The hulking figure was fond of defying nature. 

He had begun to do something much worse than the previous two options, though. The first time you experienced it, there was a quiet rolling noise, distant and unfamiliar. Your base instincts screamed at you not to look, and yet.

He was in a new pose this time, playfully holding his skull-shaped death mask against his face. That itself would not have been too bad if not for the two gaping black pits where his unblinking gaze had resided Two eyes, wet as your own and boasting irritated veins peered at you from the hollow holes through blown, pitch black irises. Following you. 

Slowly, accompanied by the low hum of moving stone, the mask lowered to reveal his usual carved visage. Nothing was stated out loud but you could tell that against your will, something had shifted. 

He approached, agonizingly slowly, but directly and with thundering footfall. He knelt down before you, head swiveling as he got closer inorganically. You could hear laboured breath whistling through the notch in his still lips, examining it at this angle revealed a small hole that hadn't been there before. This alerted you to a fact that gave you pause- below thick stone skin there was a cavity with room to accommodate something you couldn’t possibly begin to fathom rattling around inside him. The thought sat at your eyes, too difficult to be transmitted through their receptors into your brain beyond a surface level acknowledgment. 

Up close, you could see that his motions were not as smooth as you had initially assumed; every inch moved labourous, awkward, and accompanied by the incremental jerk. 

He would get closer until his lips, though much larger, were level with your own. 

The contact came contradictorily, both expected- welcomed, and unheralded, an ice water shock to your system.

Something in your mind that had rationalized him as a thing had told you he was of flesh like you, but the kiss was chilled and unmoving. Stone fingers digging into the cement floor told you he was expecting reciprocity, leaving you with no other options but to accomodate embarassingly and press warm lips to stone. 

His marble head nudged to the side softly, leading you like a lamb to the notch. Your lips slowed as you were hit with the nausea that accompanied peering into a hollow otherside, too dark to see anything in there- and there was something in there.

All at once, you were accosted by visions of a man, a victor- every glimpse lasting only microseconds and each one incredibly overwhelming. 

Dizzy. 

You fell back with a crawling sense of paralysis taking over your body, and with a freezing touch, more gentle and reverent than you could have ever expected- he cradled you, dragging his big body back to his ornate podium to pet and nudge at you, head uncannily tilting with curiousity for each sound he managed to pull from you. 

Pulseless fingers prodded at you as you looked up at him and for a passing moment, he was man, both of the earth and grounded as a large finger slipped under your shirt, soft grit tracing at your belly. For a passing moment, expressionless monochromatic eyes were those of man too, incredibly melancholic and lonely before the emotion vanished, gone all to soon. 

Your monolith breathed as his finger curled downwards, dipping into your undergarments, playing with the hidden flesh, absorbing your warmth for himself. 

His touch heated, and you could hear distant cheers of a battle hard won and a band- no, a single instrument, perhaps a lyre? It sounded far off and intimate, but it was there; it's dulcet tones swimming around your head.

A big, warm hand fussed with your pussy, pumping in and out with an unspoken worship.

Too focused on the feeling, you could only barely make out his deep voice murmuring as he talked you through his touches, the blurred looming silhouette of your giant somehow bigger made mortal than he ever seemed in his effigy. 

With heavy lids you blinked, and then through your bleary gaze you caught sight of those crystal clear bloodshot eyes set over a black void on his undefined face. You gasped, pulling away as he examined you, invasive and unwelcome gaze the only thing you could make out of his vague form. Like you had been scorched by fire, suddenly all you could feel was the hot freeze of a stone finger dug inside your folds, pumping you full. he continued to nudge around inside you experimentally, stretching you out far beyond anything you were accustomed to. he kept the same deep and agonizingly deliberate pace as you writhed beneath his bulk, squinting as humid, laboured Shallow breath fanned your face, painting you in a wet sheen. You clenched around the solid intrusion; crying out as you came on the numbingly cold marble that met your skin.

You panted, sprawled across stone with swelling lungs as you gazed upwards at the silent image of a man. Coming to, you blinked as sunlight bled in through the raised skylights, soaking the back of his head in a white glow. He stared back through unmoving spheres as you gave a shaky, torturous heave, pulling yourself off him. Ache scorched your inner muscles as you staggered through the warehouse and to the stairwell doors. As with all things relating to him, the sting only got worse the more you acknowledged it. Pushing the pain to the back of your mind, you stumbled towards your waypoint, everything around you becoming more tangible as ambient sounds flooded and warmed your ears. You didn’t look back at the carved idol, but that was fine- watchful eyes would find you through troubled dreams.

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

Misunderstandings | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

@preeyas-world my humble offering as per your request!

Words: ~4,600

Tags: Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Romance, Happy Ending

The first time you noticed it, you told yourself it was nothing.

Sebastian had always been the kind of person people were drawn to—charming, quick-witted, impossible to ignore. He had friends beyond your shared circle, people he spent time with when you weren’t around. That was fine. Healthy, even. You weren’t the type to demand his attention every waking moment, nor did you want to be.

But then there was Lillian Thornton.

At first, it was small things. A glance across the Great Hall, a study session in the library. You hadn’t thought much of it. Sebastian was friendly, and Lillian was in your year—Slytherin, well-bred, elegant in the way you weren’t. She carried herself with effortless grace, always dressed in pristine, perfectly pressed robes, always speaking in that refined, poised tone that made people listen.

You had no reason to feel threatened.

But then it became more.

It started with the little things. The moments where he was late to meet you outside class because he had gotten caught up talking to her. The times he promised he’d help you with an essay but got sidetracked and never showed up. The way his eyes lingered on her when she spoke, as if he were truly listening, when lately, he barely seemed to hear you.

At first, you tried to be rational.

Sebastian was just being himself—helpful, charismatic. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. You were overthinking.

So you brushed it off.

You ignored the slight sting when he laughed at something she said across the common room but barely reacted when you told him a story. You forced yourself to smile when he mentioned her in passing, pretended it didn’t bother you that her name kept slipping into conversations more and more. You reminded yourself that he was yours. That he loved you.

Sebastian was still affectionate. He still kissed you before class, still let his fingers skim over yours under the table at meals. He still called you love in that warm, effortless way.

But something had changed.

He was distracted.

It was in the way his attention drifted when you spoke, like he was only half-listening. In the way he was always one step behind—laughing at a joke a second too late, responding to questions with absentminded nods, forgetting things he never would have forgotten before.

You had tried to be rational. You had tried to trust him.

But doubt, once planted, was a treacherous thing.

The moment it all unraveled, you hadn’t even meant to find them.

It had been a long day. You had been tired, drained, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on you. All you had wanted was to grab a book from the library and go back to the common room. That was all.

But then you saw them.

Tucked away in a secluded corner, books spread between them, heads close together as they whispered. Lillian was laughing, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she leaned in. And Sebastian—Sebastian was smiling.

Not the polite, casual smile he gave acquaintances. The real kind. The kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes, the kind he used to reserve for you.

And then she touched his arm.

It was subtle. Barely anything at all. Just a hand resting lightly on his sleeve, her fingers curling slightly into the fabric. But what shattered you was that he didn’t move away.

You felt something crack inside you.

It wasn’t anger that hit you first—it was nausea. A hollow, gut-wrenching feeling that made it hard to breathe.

Because this—this was the moment you had been dreading. The moment your worst fears solidified into something real.

Sebastian was slipping away from you, and he didn’t even notice.

So, without a sound, you turned and left.

By the time you made it outside, the lump in your throat had tightened into something unbearable. Your legs carried you on instinct, leading you away from the castle, away from the suffocating weight pressing down on your chest.

It wasn’t until you passed a group of Ravenclaws in the courtyard hat you realized you were crying.

You could feel it now, the hot, silent tears slipping down your cheeks. The way your breath hitched every time you tried to swallow down the ache in your throat. The Ravenclaws exchanged glances as you passed, murmuring in hushed voices. One of them—a younger girl, maybe a third-year—looked at you with wide, uncertain eyes, like she wasn’t sure if she should say something.

But you didn’t care. Let them stare. Let them whisper.

Nothing they said could hurt more than this.

The lake was ahead, the water stretching out into the dark horizon, reflecting the scattered stars above. It was quiet here, far from the hum of conversation and laughter that still lingered in the castle.

This had always been your place. Your safe haven.

You sank down onto the cool earth beneath your usual tree, curling in on yourself as the weight of it all crashed over you.

It should have been such a small thing. Just a smile. A simple moment between two people studying together. Something you wouldn’t have thought twice about a few months ago. Something that shouldn’t have mattered.

But it did.

Because it wasn’t just about the smiling.

It was every small thing, every moment, every hesitation, every inch of distance that had crept in between you and Sebastian over the last few months, piling up until you collapsed under the weight of them.

You pulled your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms tightly around them as you stared out at the lake, watching the way the dark water rippled in the moonlight. The ache in your chest grew heavier with every thought that surfaced, memories stacking on top of each other, twisting into something painful.

Hadn’t things been different before? Hadn’t he been different before?

You tried to pinpoint the moment things had changed, but there wasn’t one moment—it was a slow unraveling, a series of little shifts so gradual you hadn’t noticed until now.

Like how you hadn’t been together as much lately. Not in the ways you used to be.

Sebastian had always been touchy—always slipping an arm around your shoulders, pressing absentminded kisses to the side of your head, tugging you into his lap when you were studying together in the Undercroft. he had never been able to keep his hands off of you when you were alone.

But now? Now he was too tired, too distracted, always promising later—but later never seemed to come.

And you had ignored it. You had convinced yourself it was just stress, that seventh year was demanding for both of you, that maybe you were reading too much into it. But now, as you sat by the lake, those thoughts turned into something worse.

What if it wasn’t stress at all? What if he had stopped touching you because he was touching her instead?

A shudder wracked through you, a bitter, sick feeling creeping into your stomach.

How many times had he been late to meet you for studying? For Hogsmeade trips? For dates he promised he wouldn’t forget? How many times had he made an excuse—something about Ominis, or a professor keeping him after class, or an essay he had forgotten about?

Was that all it had been? Or had he been sneaking off with her instead? Had he kissed her? Touched her? Had he pressed her against the walls of a hidden corridor, tangled his hands in her perfect curls the way he used to with you? Had he whispered the same things into her ear, the ones that used to send shivers down your spine?

The thought sent a sharp, breathless pain through your ribs, like something inside you had cracked clean through.

You had always trusted Sebastian.

Had loved him, wholly and completely, even when he made mistakes, even when he was reckless and impossible and difficult. You had always believed in him.

But now you weren’t so sure.

The thought alone made your chest cave in on itself. This was Sebastian. The boy who had sworn he’d do anything to keep you safe. The boy who used to hold you close as if he was afraid you’d disappear. The boy you loved. Trusted.

But that trust had cracks in it now, fragile and splintering under the weight of doubt.

You swallowed thickly, willing yourself to stop the spiral. To just breathe. But your thoughts wouldn’t let up, tearing through you like an open wound.

And then—

"There you are."

Sebastian’s voice cut through the quiet, and your entire body locked up. Your breath caught in your throat as you lifted your head, your heart lurching painfully.

He stood a few feet away, his brows drawn together in concern, his cloak slightly askew as if he’d rushed here. The dim glow of the moonlight cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his features—the sharpness of his jaw, the tension in his expression.

Sebastian took a step closer, breath slightly uneven. "I—uh—I ran into Samantha Dale. She said you looked upset, and then you weren’t in the common room, so—"

He cut himself off mid-sentence, his expression shifting as his gaze landed on your face.

His whole body tensed.

"Shit—are you crying?"

The words came out rough, raw. Almost panicked. And before you could react, he was moving toward you, closing the distance between you with quick, determined strides.

"Hey, hey—what’s wrong? Talk to me, love." His voice softened as he reached for you, hands outstretched like he was about to gather you into his arms. "Come here—"

"Stay away."

Your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, but it stopped him dead, his hands hovering in the space between you, his brows furrowing in confusion. "What?"

You swallowed hard, shifting back against the tree, every inch of you suddenly aching with exhaustion. "Just… don’t touch me."

A flicker of hurt crossed his face, barely concealed beneath the confusion. His mouth opened slightly, like he was going to argue, but then he really looked at you. At the tear tracks staining your cheeks. The way you were curled in on yourself, arms wrapped around your legs like you were trying to keep yourself from unraveling completely.

Something in his expression shifted. Slowly, he lowered his hands. "Did… did I do something?"

You let out a breathless, humorless laugh. "I don’t know, Sebastian." You met his gaze then, voice shaking. "Did you?"

His face paled slightly. "What is that supposed to mean?"

You exhaled shakily, looking back at the lake. The reflection of the stars blurred in the water, their edges rippling as a cold breeze drifted through.

"I don’t want to do this right now," you murmured, voice strained.

Sebastian hesitated, and for a brief second, you thought he might listen, but then he stepped closer again. "No. I think we need to."

You closed your eyes, swallowing the fresh wave of emotion rising in your throat. And then, in a quiet, broken voice, you asked, "Are you in love with her?"

The question hung in the air, heavier than the weight on your chest.

Sebastian’s breath caught, his entire body going rigid. "What?"

You turned to look at him, your vision blurred with tears. "Lillian." You exhaled shakily. "Are you in love with her?"

Sebastian’s face twisted into something like horror. "What the hell are you talking about?"

You laughed then, a short, bitter sound. "I saw you with her in the library, Sebastian."

He blinked, caught completely off guard. "That’s what this is about? We were studying—"

"Oh, studying?" You cut him off, voice thick with hurt. "Is that what you were doing when she touched you? When you smiled at her like that?"

Sebastian’s mouth opened, then closed again.

His silence was enough.

You let out a shaky breath, looking away. "I should have known."

"No— Sebastian stepped forward quickly, desperation lacing his voice. "No, love, it’s not like that. It’s not—"

"Then what is it like, Sebastian?" You turned back to him, your voice breaking. "Because I don’t understand. I don’t understand why you’ve been pulling away, why you don’t see me anymore, why I feel like I have to fight just to be something important to you."

Sebastian shook his head, exhaling sharply as he ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t—I don’t even know where this is coming from.”

You let out a breathless laugh, bitter and disbelieving. “You don’t know?”

His eyes flickered, hesitating. “We were just—”

“Studying, yeah, I heard you the first time.” You inhaled shakily. “That’s not the point, Sebastian. This isn’t just about what I saw tonight. This is about months of you pulling away.”

Sebastian opened his mouth, but you weren’t finished.

“At first, it was small things,” you continued, your voice thick with emotion. “You forgot my Quidditch match. No big deal, right? But then you started forgetting other things. Like our Hogsmeade plans. Like the fact that Thursdays are the one night I don’t study in the library. Like how I hate chamomile tea, and you’ve been handing me a cup of it every single morning without even thinking.”

Sebastian flinched, his lips parting slightly like he wanted to protest—but he didn’t.

“You used to see me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Now I feel like I have to fight just to be something important to you.”

Sebastian’s face twisted, his jaw clenching. “That’s not true.”

"Then why does it feel like I’m losing you?"

Sebastian flinched. "You're not! I—I love you."

"Really? Because you don’t look at me the way you used to." Your voice cracked, but you pushed through. "You used to—Merlin, Sebastian, you used to look at me like I was the only person in the room. And now?" You shook your head, eyes burning. "Now, I see that look when you’re with her."

Sebastian’s expression twisted in terror. "That’s not—"

You inhaled shakily, forcing yourself to keep going, even as it hurt. "You used to want me, Sebastian." The words felt raw, scraped straight from the depths of your chest. "And now, we hardly ever have sex anymore. We hardly touch anymore."

Sebastian looked like you had just ripped the air straight from his lungs. "That’s not—I do want you." His voice broke slightly at the end, panicked, desperate.

You shook your head, swallowing hard. "Then why do you hesitate now?"

Sebastian’s hands clenched at his sides. "I don’t—"

"You do." Your breath hitched. "Every time we’re alone, every time I reach for you, you pull away just a little bit. I feel it." You let out a sharp breath, forcing yourself to look him in the eye. "And yet with her, you never pull away."

Sebastian went rigid, his dark eyes flashing with something sharp, something defensive.

"That’s not—"

"Don’t lie." Your voice cracked, but you didn’t back down. "I see it. Everyone sees it. She touches you, and you let her. She leans in too close, and you don’t move away. She looks at you like you belong to her, and you—" Your throat tightened. "And you just let her."

Sebastian’s entire body went rigid.

You inhaled sharply, wiping at your eyes, even though the tears kept coming. "I trusted you, Sebastian." Your voice trembled, but you held his gaze. "I told myself over and over that I was imagining things. That I was being paranoid. That you loved me, and that was enough." You swallowed hard. "But love isn’t supposed to feel like this."

Sebastian’s face crumpled, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "I do love you."

"Then why does it feel like I have to compete for you?" You shook your head, voice breaking. "You used to tell me everything. Now I don’t even know where you are half the time. I used to be the person you looked for in a crowded room, and now—" A broken breath left your lips. "Now, I feel like a ghost to you."

Sebastian sucked in a sharp breath, his face twisting into something like shock, like you had just reached inside his chest and torn something out with your bare hands.

"That’s not—" He stopped, his voice catching, and before you could stop him, he surged forward, hands cupping your face with a desperation that made your chest cave in on itself.

"You listen to me right now." His voice was rough, unsteady, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones, catching on the remnants of your tears. "I have never stopped wanting you. Never."

You inhaled sharply, your hands coming up to grip his wrists, but you didn’t pull him away.

His breath was uneven, warm against your skin. "I love you. I love you so fucking much, and I—" He shut his eyes for a moment, exhaling shakily. "I didn’t realize I was making you feel like this. I swear to you, I didn’t."

Sebastian’s hands trembled against your skin, his breath uneven as he held your face between his palms. His dark eyes were frantic, pleading, like he could hold everything together if he just held on tightly enough.

Because this wasn’t like the petty fights you had before. This wasn’t something he could just charm his way out of with a teasing smirk and a stolen kiss. This was you, looking at him like you didn’t recognize him anymore.

You swallowed, hating how small your voice sounded. "Why are we even together when it's obvious you'd rather be with her?"

Sebastian was panicking.

You saw it in the way his lips parted like he was gasping for air, in the way his hands trembled as they held your face, in the wide, frantic look in his eyes like he was watching something he loved slip through his fingers. And thhen his knees buckled, and he fell.

Fell hard.

He was on the ground before you could react, his breath ragged, his shoulders shaking. "No—no, please, love, don’t say that." His voice cracked, raw and desperate. "Don’t—don’t tell me this is it. You’re not—" His breath hitched, his grip on you tightening just slightly. "You’re not breaking up with me, are you?"

You exhaled shakily, overwhelmed, aching, your mind screaming at you to step away before this hurt even more. Sebastian didn’t let you.

"Please," he whispered, voice hoarse. "I love you. I love you so fucking much, and I am infinitely sorry for ever making you feel like I didn’t." His forehead dropped against yours, his entire body trembling. "I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me. I swear to you, I will."

Your throat tightened, your hands hovering over his wrists. "Sebastian…"

His grip on you was desperate. "I should have told you sooner. I should have never let it get this far."

Your body went rigid. "Told me what sooner?"

Sebastian pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his own glassy with unshed tears. "God, love, it's... you’ve got it all wrong," he breathed, shaking his head. "I understand how it looked buut you have to believe me when I say—this isn’t what you think."

Your throat tightened. "Then explain to me what the hell this is, Sebastian. Because it looks pretty fucking clear to me."

He squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment, like he was bracing himself. Then—

"Lillian is in love with Anne."

The words hit you like a freight train. You blinked, staring at him, your mind struggling to process what he had just said. "What?"

Sebastian swallowed, nodding, his voice quieter now, but still urgent. "She’s in love with Anne. She has been for years. And Anne—" He took a shaky breath. "Anne… she likes women, too."

You stiffened.

Sebastian’s hands dropped from your face to your shoulders, his fingers tightening just slightly, grounding you. "You know what the world is like, love." His voice was barely above a whisper now. "You know how people see that, how dangerous it is for her."

Your chest tightened. "Sebastian—"

"Lillian wanted to know everything about Anne—what she liked, what made her smile, what made her laugh. She wanted to be sure before she risked everything by telling her." He let out a heavy breath. "I was helping her figure out how to do it. That’s all. That’s all it ever was and ever has been."

You stared at him, your mind reeling. Suddenly, every touch, every whispered conversation, every lingering glance between Sebastian and Lillian took on a completely different meaning.

She hadn’t been flirting with him, she had been leaning on him. The looks weren’t full of romantic affection—they were full of trust.

The physical closeness, the secret meetings, the time spent together—it wasn’t about Sebastian at all. It was about Anne.

Sebastian swallowed hard. "That’s why I spent so much time with her. That’s why we got close." He looked at you, pleading, begging you to believe him. "She... she makes me feel closer to Anne." His voice broke. "She reminds me of her."

Your lips parted, but no sound came out. You had spent months drowning in doubt, in fear, in heartbreak—when all along, the truth had been something you never could have guessed.

Your fingers curled into his cloak, gripping the fabric tightly, trying to ground yourself.

"You're not fucking with me are you?"

Sebastian’s breath hitched, his dark eyes wide, desperate, full of something too raw to be anything but real.

"No," he said, shaking his head fervently. "God, no. I would never—I could never lie to you about this."

The sincerity in his voice, in his expression, in the way his hands clutched at your shoulders like he was terrified you might disappear—it was real.

But you were still trying to wrap your mind around it.

Lillian. Anne. Everything.

Your breath came shakily, the pieces clicking together, reassembling into something that was so painfully obvious now that you had the truth.

Anne, who had never shown much interest in the boys who flirted with her. Anne, who had always held herself at a slight distance in conversations about courtship. Anne, who had never once spoken about wanting a husband.

You had assumed it was grief. That losing her parents, losing her old life, had left her uninterested in romance. But this…

You swallowed thickly, blinking back the emotions rising in your throat.

Sebastian watched you, his entire body tense, waiting, his breath uneven. "I know—I know I should have told you." His voice was hoarse. "But Lillian didn’t want anyone to know. Anne definitely didn’t want anyone to know. She’s been scared, and—"

"I get it," you said softly, the words trembling on your tongue, uneven, but true.

And you did.

Of course, you wished he had told you. Wished he had trusted you enough to let you in, to explain instead of letting you drown in your own worst thoughts. But at the same time, you understood why he hadn't.

It wasn't his secret to tell. He had been protecting Anne. Protecting Lillian. But…

"But still," you murmured, voice thick with emotion. "I just… You let me believe I was losing you." Your voice cracked slightly. "For months, Sebastian. And this still doesn’t entirely explain why you've been so... so distant."

Sebastian flinched, his gaze dropping to the ground.

You exhaled shakily, the weight of it all pressing down on you. "Because even if Lillian wasn’t what I thought, you did pull away. You did stop looking at me the way you used to. You hesitated when I touched you. You forgot me." Your voice broke, and you swallowed down the thick lump rising in your throat. "And that has nothing to do with Lillian or Anne."

Sebastian inhaled sharply, closing his eyes for a moment before dragging his hands through his hair, visibly unraveling in front of you. His chest rose and fell with each unsteady breath, like he was struggling to get the words out.

"I was scared."

You stiffened.

Sebastian let out a rough breath, shaking his head. "Not of you," he rushed to say. "Not of us. But of… of everything after this."

You blinked at him, not understanding. "After what?"

Sebastian exhaled, his jaw tightening. He looked away for a moment, then back at you. His voice was hoarse when he said, "After Hogwarts."

Your stomach twisted.

Sebastian swallowed thickly, his voice raw. "I don’t know what happens next," he admitted. "I don’t know where we go after this—what our lives look like when we leave this place. What if we… drift apart? What if life pulls us in different directions? What if—" He inhaled sharply, his fists clenching like he wanted to punch something. "What if I lose you?"

You felt your breath hitch.

Sebastian exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Part of me thought… maybe if I distanced myself now, maybe if I stopped needing you so much, it wouldn’t hurt as badly if we had to say goodbye."

You stared at him, your heart twisting. "Sebastian—"

"I thought I was preparing myself," he murmured.

You inhaled sharply, your fingers twitching at your sides. "You know your logic doesn't make any sense right?"

Sebastian let out a breathless, broken laugh, his face crumpling. "I know."

"And you do realize that pushing me away just made everything worse?"

Sebastian swallowed thickly, nodding. "Yeah, love. I’m painfully aware."

Your chest ached. There was a part of you that still wanted to be angry, still wanted to hold on to the hurt he had caused, but looking at him now—really looking at him—you saw a boy who was just as lost as you had been. Afraid. Unsure. But never unloving.

You let out a slow, unsteady breath. "You can’t do that to me again."

Sebastian’s expression shattered further,

"I won’t," he whispered, his voice raw. "I swear I won’t. I love you more than anything. I'm so sorry."

Your throat tightened, your eyes burning.

Because you believed him.

Not because he was desperate, not because he was begging, but because the way he was looking at you now—like you were everything, like you were the air in his lungs, the only thing tethering him to the world—was the way he had always looked at you before all of this.

The way he should have been looking at you all along.

You exhaled sharply, your emotions still tangled, still raw, but your body had already made its decision before your mind had caught up.

You leaned forward, and Sebastian sucked in a sharp breath, his entire body going rigid. And then, carefully, cautiously, you lifted your arms and wrapped them around his neck.

At first contact, Sebastian's arms slammed around you, pulling you against him with a desperation that knocked the breath from your lungs. His face buried into your shoulder, his body trembling against yours.

For the first time in months, it felt like home.

Sebastian exhaled sharply, his breath warm against your skin. "I love you." His voice cracked. "I love you so much, and I will spend the rest of my life proving it to you."

You swallowed hard, pressing your face into his neck. "Good," you whispered. "Because you’re going to have to."

Sebastian let out a shaky laugh, relief flooding through him, his arms tightening around you like he never wanted to let go.

And this time, you knew he wouldn’t.