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#enchanted waltz
starryarts · 30 days
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made a cover for my soriku playlist
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letterstomarianna · 9 months
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Please don't be in love with someone else,
please don't have somebody waiting on you.
Please don't be in love with someone else,
please don't have somebody waiting on you...
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kokoronbain · 1 year
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🌟 ~ The Enchanting Cookie ~ ✨
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While I thought that I messed up with this drawing, I forced myself to continue and test another way to do lineart and shading... And it turned up actually good!
In all cases, that happy and beautiful Cocoa Cookie brings me SO much joy, you have no idea! 🥰🥰🥰
Anyway, hope you like my art! ❤️💛💖
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princessquinnella · 1 year
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Basil and Dawson busy discussing matters of a case with a current client, and Quinnella silently walking in, setting a cup of tea on the table beside the detectives’ armchair. ☕️
Basil, not missing a beat within the conversation - a split second within the middle of his sentence and not even having to look in the fairy’s direction - quickly taking Quinnella’s hand in his and kissing the back of it before releasing her.
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He immediately continues on within the discussion as if nothing even happened…
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painofhumanity · 2 years
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The King and Queen’s Waltz in Enchanted is not actually a waltz--whether you count it in half-time or double-time--and this will never not bother me. It’s such a cute scene otherwise, but I simply cannot get over them calling it a waltz when anyone who actually knows anything about ballroom dancing knows that is NOT what that is. 
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theversevoyager · 1 month
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Upon the distant stars, a tale unfolds, of magic, wonder, and change. A humble being, lost in time, discovered the realm where creatures dance with dreams. As they danced beneath the moonlit skies, their souls intertwined, a transformation began. The cosmic waltz completed, the character returned, forever changed, to weave enchantment into reality's tapestry.
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unorthodoxfaithxx · 3 months
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Yandere Ghost Smut
afab reader ; nsfw
“This house is totally perfect! You’ll love it,” is what your realtor told you when they finally found a house within your budget. You loved the aesthetics of historical homes, so when they discovered an older house that not only was in your price range, but had just minor damages, they called you immediately. 
You moved in within the month. It didn’t take long to settle into your new home. There was a room with shelves meant for books, and you spent most of your free time there, enjoying the books from your collection that could rival a library. Sometimes, you would feel a sudden chill in the air when reading, and grow pensive. It would feel like someone was watching you. But besides that, nothing was out of the ordinary. You just assumed you were too stressed out and growing paranoid as a result. Everything was fine.
Well, it was. Until you started waking up with strange markings on your body. You woke up one day in a cold sweat, waltzing into the bathroom to wash your face off, only to find what looked like hickeys on your neck and upper chest area. Weird. Did you have bugs in the bed? Was it an allergic reaction to the new detergent you bought for the sheets? You had no idea. 
You were never able to solve the issue because the markings disappeared within a few hours, and didn’t come back again. Once more, you shrugged it off and assumed nothing was amiss. 
Yet eventually, things got even stranger. Your panties started disappearing one-by-one, and you were sure you hadn’t misplaced them. Specifically, your already worn undergarments would disappear from the dirty laundry bin before you could wash them. What the fuck?
“I don’t know, Mary,” you call your best friend one afternoon, “I feel like this place is haunted. And what’s even weirder is I keep getting these wet dreams…like every night. I’m not even sexually frustrated so I don’t know why I wake up wet or with markings on myself.”
“Maybe you got a ghost fucking ya?” She jokes around and you both get a laugh out of that. But for some reason, the deepest part of your being can’t dismiss that thought. 
You begin to grow paranoid and start searching for any signs in your house that someone else is living with you. You decide to enter the dusty attic, and find rather antique furniture and a box containing a photo of a man and a woman. He was handsome, albeit a little creepy looking, but what struck you as odd was woman next to him. She looked eerily like you. You brought the photos downstairs to do some research on your computer, but alas, found no information on the man or the woman. The only thing you found out was that there was a fire that had damaged the property all too many years ago. You felt the creepy sensation of being watched again, and called it quits for the night, opting to get some much needed rest.
That night, you saw him.
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It’s midnight when he appears in your room, watching your beautiful self slumber. You were so perfect, all those years ago when you left him, and even now. He loves the way the sheets drape your body, but slowly peels them off to reveal that you’re in nothing but a bra and panties. There is a slight sheen of sweat on your skin as your eyebrows furrow cutely in your sleep. 
His angel must be having a nightmare, but he can take care of that. Gently, he trails his cold fingers over your curves. He admires your beauty, so happy to see you once more. He can’t wait another minute.
While you’re still on your side, he unclasps your bra, relishing the way your tits fall free without the support. They look so beautiful and perfect, he can’t even begin to describe how enchanted you make him feel. 
You roll onto your back. He slides your underwear to the side, revealing your pretty cunt to his ghostly eyes. With a delicate touch, he rubs your clit in small circles, playing with you. 
You gasp at the touch and he smirks. Your shuffling does little to deter him from his objective.
He’s on the bed with you, intently staring at your lower half. He admires your folds and moves them open and closed with his fingers, revealing a leaking hole that was your wetness. With a gulp, he slides your underwear off you, wadding it into a ball, burying his face into it as he takes a whiff of your scent. He’d be tasting the real thing soon enough. Once satisfied, he pockets your undies for safe keeping. He tilts his head down to your lower body, shifting into a more comfortable position. With a breath of anticipation, he slithers his cold tongue over your vagina, moaning slightly at the sensation. 
He’s been doing this every night he could manifest, and it never got tiring.
This time, and he doesn’t know why, you wake up, staring down at the mysterious man in terror as he laps you up like a man thirsting in the desert. You mean to run but you can’t move. You feel something cold and wet tying your body to the bed. You try to close your legs from your violator, but his icu hands grip firmly on your thighs, keeping them wide open for him to shove his face between. 
Under the moonlight, the two of you make eye contact but he doesn’t stop, instead opting to send you a wicked smile. “Good morning, love,” he says gently from beneath you. “I missed you so, so much. You know that?”
You’re in a state of shock, words screaming in your head but not quite reaching your vocal chords. The only sound you can make is a whimper as he shoves his tongue further into you, his nose rubbing you causing further pleasurable friction. He sucks, licks, and rolls your clit with his tongue. 
Suddenly, he slides a cold finger into your hole and you gasp, arching your back only to be stuck back down again. “Don’t move, pretty thing,” he scolds you. 
“F-fuck,” you finally manage to whisper, heart racing, “Who are you?”
“Someone who’s been watching you for a very, very long time.” He’s stopped licking you, instead moving to pump another finger into your pretty cunt, thrusting in and out at a moderate pace. His eyes show so much love, desperation, and lust in them that you have no idea what to do or where to go. Then it clicks. The man from the photo. That’s who he was. How could that be possible? Was he an actual ghost?
“I’ve been so lonely without you, princess. When you left me to burn, do you know how heartbroken I was? But now you’re back, and we can finally be together again. I’m not letting you leave me another time.”
He now has three fingers inside of you, picking up the pace. The lewd sound of slick fingers sliding in and out of your cunt drives him wild. His face is back between your thighs again, lapping you up and suckling on you until you’re visibly shaking. 
“Aw, sweet girl. Gonna cum?”
You don’t want to, but you feel something hot and heavy coming.
“Shit. Cum in my mouth, sweetheart. Wanna taste everything you got.” He latches back onto you. 
Your stomach drops and you let go, mind very distressed but body obviously in heaven. Your pussy spazzes out on him and he moans as he licks up the mess you leave behind. With a wipe of his mouth he grins, eying you like a rare prize he had just one at the fair.
He grabs onto you, embracing you in a hug you can’t run away from. Seriously, why can’t you move? He notices your struggles and laughs, snuggling into your chest. 
“Ah ah ah, no running away, love. I’ve waited so long for you. You’re not going anywhere.”
He flips you to where you’re face down, ass up. Your vagina is dripping, juices sliding down your thigh. He licks his lips before biting his lower one, admiring the roundness of your ass and your now puffy and pink pussy. 
“Oh, love. You got no idea what you do to me…”
You feel something cold and hard tap the entrance of your walls, and you freeze. Oh god, was he going to fuck you? His hands are on the sides of your ass, but you feel another set of cold hands grabbing your arms, and even another pulling at your tits. You whimper at the overstimulation.
“Enjoy the hands. They’re all me.”
Before you can reply, he’s sliding his dick through your entrance. Your pussy quivers at the sensation and he laughs. “Did you just come from that, love?”
Once you take all of him, he leans forward to whisper in your ear. “I want to hear you moan, sweetheart. Go on, make some noise for me.”
As he’s taking you from behind, a hand shoves its fingers into your mouth, and you gag on it. The sets of hands on your breasts are now fondling them, pinching and squeezing. You’ve never felt so much at once before, and you eventually yield to the pleasure, moaning as he thrusts into you.
“That’s it, baby. Take it. Take it all. You’re fucking mine,” He snarls, and you whine at how hard he’s pounding into you, ferocity now evident in his demeanor. 
You slurp and suck on the fingers, only for it to pop out of your mouth and slide into your ass instead. You cry out at the sensation. A hand is sliding circles around your clit as he fucks you, sending waves of pleasure over your body you’ve never known before. 
“Too much!” You cry, sobbing with pleasure.
He gives you a kiss on the neck. “Almost done, love. Just keep taking it, okay? You’re doing so good for me. God, you’re fucking perfect.” His thrusts became sporadic, and you know he’s close. 
In the end, you come once more, and you feel he does too. When he pulls out, you collapse on the bed, blacking out. Morning eventually comes, and you feel someone is holding you from behind. A set of hands grope your body as you wake up. 
“Morning, love. Ready for round two?”
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wren-songbird · 1 year
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do you ever long for a feeling you’ve never felt? an innate desire for something you can’t place your finger on, a hole that no matter what you do, nothing will fill…
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lou-struck · 11 months
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They Said No... Part 3
Obey Me! Datables (minus Luke x MC!)
Featuring: Simeon, Solomon, Diavolo, and Barbatos
Part 1 HERE
Part 2 HERE
~We all get asked to do things sometimes that we do not want to do. And it's okay to say no, but sometimes you need a little extra help to get the point across.
Warnings: MC gets propositioned and S*ut shamed by a demon, threats, violence, sass, discussion of pact making, and other things like that.
Diavolo
The enchanted orchestra plays a haunting waltz as the Prince’s golden gaze scans the ballroom. The hundreds of well-dressed guests don’t capture his attention at all.
 How could they?
None of them are you.
He has been so preoccupied with diplomacy and engaging with some of his more noble guests he hasn’t gotten to see you at all tonight. He misses you and your smile terribly, especially when a fake one has been plastered on his face all evening.
To help in his search and hopefully get a bit of alone time with you, he decides to drop his princely grin and walk about the room as if he has a set purpose. If he seemed preoccupied, no one would bother him for the time being.
It works like a charm and the crowded dance floor parts for him like the red sea. He passes what looks like Beel hunched over the buffet table, Satan chatting with a representative for the Animal Shelter, and Asmo playfully twirling a glass of demonus in his freshly painted nails as a crowd eats up every word that comes out of his mouth.
But where are you?
Finally, after minutes of searching the room, he finds you leaning against one of the pillars on the far side of the ballroom staring out the window at the purple-tinted moon.
He can’t keep his expression of indifference any longer; the grin tugs at his lips as he grabs two flutes of demonus from a passing servant. Ready to sweep you off your feet and hopefully into the gardens for a little stroll away from the party.
But someone beats him to it. 
A long-haired Demoness with long deep blue curls saunters up beside you, “Well don’t you look sinfully delicious this evening?” She draws gently, trailing one of her gloved hands down your arm. You tense under her unfamiliar touch and subtly move a bit further away from her.
“Tell me, Little Lamb,” she coos, flicking her serpentine tongue in your direction. “What does a demon have to do to get you alone for an evening?”
Wha, excuse me?” you blink.” Your behavior is uncalled for.” You take another, much larger step back. “You should go now.”
“Oh, come now,” she laughs, tossing her head back haughtily. “Don’t think I haven’t heard of your reputation MC, a mere human seducing their way through the Devildom. Surely you can make an exception for one more?”
The glasses in Diavolos’ hands shatter violently, and their contents drip onto the marble floor Barbatos took such care in polishing earlier. “What do you think you are doing?” he growls, filling the room with his overwhelming aura. 
“L-lord Diavolo,” the demoness shakes, her violet gaze wide and darting between you and the Prince, no doubt trying to figure a way out of the punishment that awaits her. “I was just joking around with them; that’s all; humans are too sensitive.”
“You continue to insult Mc,” he frowns. “Do you not wish to keep your tongue? Leave now before I take more drastic measures.”
They nod hurriedly and rush away from the ballroom, leaving you and the Prince surrounded by onlookers. Your eyes brim with unfallen tears, but you keep your composure beautifully. “Thank you, Diavolo.”
The rage inside him dulls as he shakes the demonus off his hands and escorts you away from prying eyes.
Barbatos
“Sorry for the wait, Mc,” Barbatos says, leading you into the lounge outside of Diavolo’s office. “The young master has been tied up in meetings all afternoon, but once he is done, the three of us can go out to dinner.”
You smile brightly as the butler, your hand lingering on his own, not wanting to let go. “That’s alright; I don’t mind waiting with you.”
You’re just too precious; it makes his ancient heart skip a beat. “I just have one last chore to do, and then I’ll be all yours.”
“Oh,” your slightly disappointed tone fills him with pride as you glance around the room. “Can I help with anything?”
“Absolutely not; you are a guest. All I require of you is that you relax and enjoy yourself until I come back,” he says, placing a hand on your lower back to lightly guide you into the comfortable seat in the room. “I promise I shall only be a few moments.”
He leaves quickly, making sure to be near enough should you require anything. With a steady hand, he wipes a vase far older than himself faster than anyone else would attempt to. The ancient porcelain still shines like new under his careful touch, but as he looks into the rich colors within, he can only think of your eyes.  
His ears twitch as the sound of footsteps is much heavier than your own. They thud down the hallway stopping at what seems to be the door to the lounge, and step through the freshly oiled hinges.
A weary feeling settles over him for two reasons, 
Firstly, The young master isn’t expecting any more guests today.
And Second, You are completely alone in the room with a strange demon.
Instinctually, he places the vase down and rushes down the hall to check on you.
He pauses just outside the door catching the scent of the son of a well-known Noble Demon. His green eyes peek through the crack in the grand double doors, it may be impolite to eavesdrop, but as a Butler, it is quite the perfected skill.
“You there, Human.” the pompously dressed Demon sneers in your direction. “Go make yourself useful and fetch me something to drink.” They smirk confidently at you and lounge back into the chaise as if they own the place.
It grinds Barbatos’ gears, but he doesn’t interfere yet; the mantra ’a good butler does not make a scene.’ replays in his head as if it is a warning, but his hand is already on the doorknob before you even reply to the rude Demon. 
“Excuse me?” you say with a composure that makes his heart flutter, “But I believe you have mistaken me for someone else; I do not work here; perhaps one of the Little D’s would be able to assist you.”
He scoffs as if he had never been told no before. “I am a very important guest of the Crown Prince; you are nothing. If I want you to grab me something, you will get it for me.”
“I already told you I do not work at the palace; I have business with Lord Diavolo just the same as you do,” you explain again. 
“You speak as if we are equals; perhaps I need to teach you a lesson,” they spit, uncurling their barbed tail and pointing it threateningly in your direction. Your eyes widen a bit, and you subtly shift in your seat; Barbatos spots thin tendrils of magic already at your fingertips in case the entitled demon attacks. 
He can watch no longer- Stepping into the room without his usual polite smile, “That’s quite enough; your disrespectful behavior is not tolerated in this castle.” At Barabatos’ entrance, the Demon begins to shake something fierce as whispers of what the butler does to threats to the crown replay themselves in his ears. 
Barbaots tries to hide the softness he feels when he sees the way the fear of your features falls away in his presence. 
Although it is immensely satisfying to watch someone who was once so proud and entitled backtrack and blubber out a seemingly endless stream of apologies and excuses to you, Barbatos is in desperate need of your quality time, and this imbecile is getting in the way of that.
“Furthermore, why would you ever ask them to do something for you that you are clearly capable of yourself,” he asks, smiling maliciously, leaning close to the trembling Demon’s ear. “Are You Helpless? If that’s so, why should someone as pathetic as you ever request an audience with the future king?”
“R-right, s-sorry,” he mumbles, scurrying out of the lounge as if he were a rat. The thought of such sends a shudder through him as he turns his attention back to you. Your shoulders are stiff and rigid, your breaths come out shakily, but you are unharmed, and that’s all that matters. 
“Little Rose,” he asks in a feather-light voice, crouching down to your eyes level and taking off his white gloves to hold your hands properly. “Are you alright?”
You nod slowly as he rubs gentle circles into the back of your hands. The contact soothes him just as much as it is soothing you. “I’m okay.” you say at last, “Thank you for being there for me, Barbatos.”
“When you need me, I will always be there for you- I promise,” he says softly, meaning every word.
Simeon
Simeon is all smiles as he walks down the cobbled streets of Majolish. How can he not be? He’s going to have lunch with you.
A part of him feels bad about not telling Luke about this little date, but he really wanted to have some alone time with you.
As of late, It seems as if everyone else has no problem getting you alone; it pulls at his heartstrings to know that he isn’t as present in your life as he wishes to be.
Some may call his feelings possessive, but in all reality, it is love, true unadulterated love. Every time he sees your face, he wonders if falling from the celestial realm would really be that bad of a thing.
Just as he approaches the Bistro told him to meet him, he notices you off in the distance. You walk quickly across his path, a look of irritation on your pretty features that has the Angel wondering if he himself has done anything to upset you recently. 
He hasn’t, but the feelings of insecurity persist, and he gets closer.
“No comment,” you say aloud, your hand swatting at the air around you as if there was a bug. “I told you I have nothing to share.”
He may not be able to see the other presence around you, but he can feel it. One of the tiniest Lesser demons he has ever taken note of buzzes around your head like a fly around a bowl of fresh fruit.
“Come on, sweetheart; you gotta tell the people what they want to know.” The voice says in a comically high-pitched voice. 
You stop and stare at the little bugger. “I have nothing to say to you about the brothers, the prince, or anyone else for that matter,” you say defiantly. 
“Listen, MC; I’m a busy demon. The kind of Demon who has deadlines. If you don’t give me something good, I’m done for.” He pleads, circling around your head once more. 
Simeon takes a careful step forward, more than ready to come to your aid when the Demon opens his mouth again.
“What about the Angel? You gotta tell me something about him. No one is that good, that pure. I’m sure my readers would kill for a story about how one of the highest-ranking angels of the celestial realm is being corrupted right here in the Devildom.”
Simeon stops in his tracks. The accusations may be false, but those rumors are dangerous, especially to him. If his superiors heard a story like that was gaining traction, they could take him away. He would never get to see you again.
The Angel knows he has told you many secrets in the late hours of the night that would satisfy this pest of a reporter. But those secrets were exchanged in hushed tones with many tears. You would never betray him like that.
Would you?
His heart feels so tight in his chest as you stare at the Reporter in shock. “at first, I thought you were just annoying. “You say calmly, “but it seems to me you are more than that; how stupid can you be? Simeon is one of the kindest beings I have ever met; your story has no substance; leave me alone.” 
The emotions that welled up in Simeon’s chest when you took his side were indescribable—making the sweet Angel feel as if he were falling for you all over again. He feels rejuvenated and ready to help you get rid of this Reporter once and for all. 
Despite the pissed-off look on your face, the Reporter does not back away, throwing up his tiny hands and changing the subject. 
“Okay, nothing special there. But how about Belphegor? Is it true he was kicked from his exchange program early as a result of sleeping through his classes?”
“I may not know too much about reporting down here, but I am fairly certain the best information comes straight from the source,” he says in his calm and cheery voice. With his presence known, he sees the Reporter fly out of your personal space bubble quickly. You look visibly relieved that there is no longer buzzing in your ear.
Now that you are feeling better, the Angel continues his lecture, “As for me, I have nothing to say to someone who works with such a lack of integrity. Please leave the two of us in peace.” Although he speaks with a smile on his face, his words are not a friendly suggestion. The lesser Demon flies away quickly, not wanting to face the wrath of the Angel.
With the pest gone, he turns and gives you the biggest, most sincere smile he has to offer. Feeling an emotion he cannot name with your knees buckle at the sight of him.
“I’m glad he’s gone,” you say softly, taking his outstretched arms for balance as you make your way back over to the Bistro. “I kept telling him to leave us alone, but he would just keep pressing with these awful questions.”
“I know,” he says, kissing the top of your head lightly, “But I would like to thank you for sticking up for me.”
“And you, me,” you giggle, glowing with a light all your own.
Solomon
The great sorcerer finds himself continuously drawn to the clock, the slow-moving hands taunting him as he comes to a disappointing realization.
You’re late…
You’re never late. 
He looks back at the fully prepped conjuring station and fiddles with the covers of a few of the jewel-encrusted spellbooks longingly. Your magic lesson was supposed to begin ten minutes ago, but you are nowhere to be found. He spots his DDD lying face down on the end of the clean countertop and reaches for it.
Perhaps you messaged him, and his ringer was off. He picks it up only to see his blank lock screen. Your pixelated smiling face does little to ease his mind. With one last glance at the clock, he turns and walks out the door. His cape flows behind him as he walks through the hallway of Purgatory and out its doors.
He’s out on the street, walking towards the House of Lamination with vigor, using his arms to propel his speed walk forward like he is a mom walking the track at their child’s soccer practice. 
The thought does cross his mind that he had forgotten a possible time change the two of you had agreed upon earlier, but as he rounds a corner, he is able to make out your figure through the light fog that settles on the ground.
But you are not alone; in front of you, there is something large in your path, the fog makes it difficult for him to see exactly what it is, but the aura radiating off of it reveals that it is a lesser Demon who is currently on their knees in front of you.
‘Well, this certainly looks intriguing,’ he thinks to himself, stepping closer. A wave of his hand sweeps away the fog, but neither you nor the begging Demon seems to have noticed his presence yet.
“Please, please, please. Mc. You just have to accept me.” it begs, a clawed hand creeping forward, trying to grab ahold of your shoe pathetically. “I’d do anything for you, Protect you, worship you, anything.”
Solomon has no clue what is happening right now. Is it perhaps another demon professing their love to you?
No, if that were the case, you would have politely turned this poor Demon down with a kind look on your face. But instead, he sees you look uncomfortable, very uncomfortable, as you take a step farther away from the Demon’s outstretched hand. 
“I have already told you no,” you say at last. “I am not interested in making any more pacts.”
Solomon immediately understands why you look so uncomfortable. When making a pact with a demon, it does more than grow one’s powers. It creates a bond. 
Many Demons do not understand just how draining it can be to have a pact with a demon who doesn’t deserve it. 
Although Solomon may desire pacts with strong demons so that he can be strong enough to protect the human realm should the need ever arise? You are different- you have your own reasons for making pacts with the brothers. These pacts are a symbol of your love. Something he is certain this little pest is undeserving of.
Solomon decides that he would like a bit of attention now…
“Oh my,” he says, walking around the Demon as if he were as insignificant as a fallen tree branch. “Do watch your step Mc; it looks like no one has come by to clean up these paths after last night’s storm.”
You look visibly relieved to see another friendly face, and Solomon kisses the back of your hand tenderly. The Demon stares at you both angrily but knows better than to say anything in response. Solomon smirks and looks down at the pushy Demon with a narrowed gaze. 
“Why would MC share a part of themselves with a demon who is too stupid to understand the meaning of the word no?” he says with his silver tongue. “They may be kind enough to turn you down politely, but me? Not so much I’d leave if I were you.”
Wordlessly the Demon picks itself off the ground and runs off with its curly tail between its legs. Not wanting to anger Solomon the Wise any more than he already has been the smartest decision they have made today.
As they scamper off, you look a bit embarrassed as you check the time. “I guess I’m running a bit late to our lesson today, aren’t I, Solomon?” A soft giggle slips past your lips, and Solomon wonders if he will ever get tired of hearing that sound.
“You had a good reason,” he replies simply. 
You groan. “Still, I had been trying to shake them for at least thirty minutes, but they wouldn’t leave me alone.”
“Hmm, then how about we do something else today?” he offers. “Take a break, maybe, sneak up to the human world for some frozen yogurt or a soft pretzel?”
Your eyes light up at his proposition. “Could we get a drink?” you ask, “Demonus isn’t gonna cut it today.”
You’re just too cute sometimes. It makes him feel much younger. He looks at you with an almost boyish grin and laughs, “I think we can make that happen.”
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dreamlovetarot · 8 months
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☁️「𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑢𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑」🏹
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left to right: pile 1, pile 2, pile 3
Welcome, 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝐷𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑟,
as we embark upon a journey through the veils of time. In this celestial reading, we shall unveil the whispers of what your destined beloved shall hold most dear in you. Embrace this ethereal dance with an open heart, and may the stars above sprinkle their magic upon your path.
𝐼𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑚 𝑜𝑓 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑠, 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠,
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝒆𝒇𝒇𝒚 ⁓
Enchanting Disclaimer: Let it be known that Tarot's realm, found within these pages, is one of whimsical entertainment. What transpires is my personal interpretation, a delicate thread weaving through the cards' tapestry. Each portrayal, though bathed in speculation, seeks to capture your imagination. As you tread the starlit path of this reading, the harmony between your heart's song and its melodies shall guide you. Tarot's allure, an ethereal waltz, rests upon the tendrils of choice, where your intuition casts its own spell.
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꒰ 🪼 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:・゚𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 01
The cards of your destiny: 7 of cups, child: orphan, the sentinel, the twins
Within the realm of your being, an enchanting tapestry unfolds. Your future spouse is drawn to the radiance of your imaginative spirit, finding allure in the way you perceive the world. Your ability to discern opportunity in even the most intricate patterns of life, and your unwavering understanding of choice, create a symphony of admiration.
Your essence weaves dreams into reality, infusing purpose into each step you take. There's a delicate magic in your willingness to dream without restraint, to paint your life with the hues of possibility. This mystical aura you carry isn't tinged with negativity, but rather a sparkling optimism that kindles fascination.
Yet, beyond the ephemeral, your independence shines like a distant star, guiding you to gather knowledge on your own terms. You're a self-sufficient learner, a wanderer across the cosmos of wisdom, and your partner cherishes this self-reliance.
In your stride, your beloved sees a warrior spirit. Your unwavering faith in yourself and your capacity to conquer any challenge bestows you with an aura of courage and resolve. This inner certainty sets you on a path of endless possibilities, a journey your partner deeply admires.
The Twins card whispers of your multi-dimensional nature. You're a puzzle with pieces that delightfully don't always fit together. Your unpredictability paints your journey with intrigue, offering a constant sense of discovery to your partner's heart.
This fusion of dreaminess and autonomy creates a unique alchemy. You master the art of emotional balance, a dance between grounding and flight. Your independence is the armor that shields you, and your dreams are the wings that let you soar.
In this cosmic dance, you embody a spectrum of hues, and your beloved admires everything about your essence, encompassing green, beige, and even the occasional red flag. You are an enigma with layers that continue to captivate. As you navigate your journey, remember the charm that emanates from your fusion of dreams and self-reliance, as it is casting a spell that keeps your partner forever captivated.
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꒰ 🪼 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:・゚𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 02
The cards of your destiny: the moon, angel, the aspirant, the runaway
In the tapestry of your future, your beloved finds fascination in your intuitive nature and your profound self-awareness. Your thoughts, akin to twinkling stars, intrigue their curiosity. They are drawn to your emotional transparency, where you fearlessly share your worries and anxieties, offering a glimpse into the depths of your soul.
What truly enchants your future partner is your selflessness, a trait that shines with a brilliance of its own. Your willingness to extend your help without seeking anything in return casts a radiant glow upon your being. You embody a magical essence that radiates empathy and compassion, pulling them into your orbit.
But you're more than an angelic presence; you're a dreamer with aspirations that stretch toward the cosmos. Your ambition and tenacity in pursuing your dreams are evident. Even in the face of challenges, you approach them with open dialogue and a spirit that marches forward undeterred.
The Runaway card, cloaked in mystery, adds a layer of intrigue to your essence. While you're resolute in facing difficulties, there's also a yearning for personal freedom. Your desire to keep certain parts of yourself hidden imparts an air of enigma. This doesn't hinder your ability to connect; rather, it adds a layer of complexity that draws others in.
In your journey, you may momentarily retreat from challenges, but your determination never wavers. Your reliability shines through, especially in supporting others through their tribulations. Your partner is captivated by the unique harmony you embody, a symphony of strength, compassion, and an alluring aura that casts a spell upon their heart
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꒰ 🪼 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:・゚𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 03
The cards of your destiny: ace of wands, warrior, the heir, the enchanter
Within the enchanting dance of your destined union, your future partner is captivated by the radiant bloom of your creativity. You are a wellspring of inspiration, a vessel brimming with untold possibilities. Like a star yearning to blaze brighter, you embrace growth and new horizons, ensuring that every moment shared is a tapestry of exploration.
In your presence, the strength of galaxies twinkles. Your spouse admires your unwavering fortitude and adeptness, where discipline and unyielding determination harmonize effortlessly. An aura of power surrounds you, untainted by the trappings of ego, allowing you to navigate both your internal landscape and external connections with an elegant grace.
Your self-awareness casts a gentle glow, illuminating both your strengths and vulnerabilities. The Heir card alludes to concealed potential, a treasure trove of abilities awaiting discovery even by you. This interplay between modesty and untapped gifts weaves an enchanting allure that draws your partner closer.
Occasionally, hesitation may cast its delicate shadow upon you. Doubts may cloud your perception of your talents, questioning whether you truly measure up or possess the necessary capability. This humility, coupled with a touch of uncertainty, forms an irresistible magnetism that pulls your partner into your orbit.
In your essence resides the art of transformation, a symphony of alchemy. Your mastery lies in transmuting the mundane into the extraordinary, crafting new dimensions from the threads of everyday life. This isn't manipulation in the conventional sense, but a kind of enchantment that breathes fresh life into situations, relationships, and your artistic pursuits.
Be it as a designer, an artist, or a weaver of light, your innate talent to manipulate and shape scenes entrances your future partner. They're captivated by your ability to reshape perspectives, inviting others to see the world anew through your unique vision.
In their eyes, you shine like constellations in the velvet sky, a mosaic of brilliance. Your creativity, your potential, and your artistic flair are celebrated and cherished. They stand as your most ardent supporter, unwavering in their belief in you. In their gaze, your essence swirls like stardust, a mesmerizing fusion of potential and artistic magic.
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jungkookschin · 1 year
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to err is to love
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synopsis: planning your twins' mario theme bday party with your baby daddy/ex husband makes you start to feel weird things .. but no, you will not walk down that path again !!!
word count: 6k
pairing: dilf!jk /ex husband!jk / ceo!jk x afab reader
genre: fluff, angst, comedy, jk and oc's rich friends spoil their kids 🙄, guest appearance from g idle and enha
authors note: if u have any comments plss put it in the asks bc this is a secondary account😭ily all, this may be a part of a series if the feedback is good. i have winter break for the next three weeks so im popping these fics out very quickly!
read the first drabble here!
to err is to love masterlist
They say you find the purest love on earth by looking into your mother's eyes- and you've never really understood that until you had your own kids.
The pure adoration you have for your children is unimaginable, indescribable, unmeasurable. Your heart aches, is inter-permeated with the sweetest types of love when you think about your children. Menial tasks like simply waking them up for school in the morning, drool on the corner of their small mouths, have your very being beaming with captivation. Even the tiniest gesticulations have you enchanted, an absolute fool for your kids. It takes constant internal berating to remind yourself your kids need discipline, but it's instinctive of you to spoil them, which is precisely why you often find yourself begging your friends to join the three of you in a late night game of Among Us.
Your love for your children is also why you agreed to co habitat with your ex-husband Jungkook.
You and Jungkook were victims of a young pregnancy, one that had you ripping your hair out when you peed on that stupid stick. Though not a teenage pregnancy, getting pregnant at the tender age of 22 wasn't the most ideal of situations. Who knew that such a horrific time in your life would turn into the greatest of blessings?
Jungkook was your first boyfriend; you consider him your first love, basically the only man in the world you have been in a serious relationship with.
The night after your second anniversary date, Jungkook decided that you had him way too obsessed to just let you waltz back into your home, practically having his balls in the palm of your hand. So he insisted that you stay in his car a little bit longer; he then abused his power as son of Jeon Enterprises to take you to one of his dad's luxury hotel rooms. Jeon Enterprises runs Korea's largest and most popular chain of hotels and casinos, and surely his father the CEO was livid once he discovered what his son had done.
His father called him up to his office, and Jungkook was gnawing on the inside of his cheeks when he took that elevator forty stories up. Jungkook took the berating pretty well- after all he had the best night of his life with the girl of his dreams. That was the second most angry he's ever seen his father.
The most angry he's ever seen his father was when he broke the news to his dad that you were pregnant. That day he took a pretty harsh beating that left his ass sore for weeks .
Flash forward seven years his dad is absolutely enamored with his grandchildren, being the principle contributor to how spoiled his kids are- but flash forward seven years later he's also lost you.
A couple years after your children were born, you and Jungkook had your dream wedding in Paris at only twenty four years of age, and three years after that was the grim and ugly divorce.
A series of grievances and humilation that were a result of your relationship left you so broken, and you would never forgive yourself if you allowed yourself to stay with him. For the sake of your children did your relationship remain amicable and cordial; you refused to let them grow up in a broken home.
Your little babies were Haru and Hina, and may or may not be named after your and Jungkook's favorite anime characters; but that's what the younger versions of yourselves decided on and are the names you've chosen for their precious little faces. Your fraternal twins are objectively the cutest little kids you've ever seen, even though you may be a teensy bit biased. Nonetheless the twins wonderfully compliment each other like the perfect peanut butter and jelly sandwhich, which is sorta expected- they literally have the same DNA.
Time has flown by, with your kids entering first grade. Hina's a little clumsy, still falling over her own feet despite having fine tuned her motor skills for the past four years, but luckily Haru's always there to pick her up and wipe the dust from her knees. Even so, your kids are kids, and often bicker and quarrel with each other. Often did you find yourself dragging one twin to a corner of the house whilst Jungkook drags the other somewhere else, sitting them down and having that stern mom/dad talk which encouraged them to love and forgive each other (which may be hypocritical because their parents weren't even capable of doing so). A nasty fight had you and Jungkook almost violently tearing your kids away from each other when Haru dropped a banana right in front of Hina's cart in Mario Kart. just when she was about to get second place.
In fact, it had taken a whole week for Haru and Hina to agree on a shared birthday party theme for their sixth birthday. You were convinced that they would never come to a unaninmous agreement, and almost made the plan to go with the "beach" theme, which you really didn't want to do because that was boring. So you were absolutely delighted when they waddled towards you and Jungkook at the dining table and announced that they wanted a Nintendo theme birthday.
It's yours and Jungkook's deep and profound shared love for your children that have you working so hard to make this party a success. The clock reads 3:40 AM, T minus ten hours until the party starts. Albeit, it would have been so much easier to simply hire a professional party planner, but you both felt so much more accomplished doing it yourself. You and your ex husband Jungkook sit on the floor of your living room, systematically reviewing the checklist of tasks that need to be completed before the start of the party. A giant easel with a huge notepad stands in the middle of the room, and you use a fat ass sharpie to write everything down.
"You'll pick up the cake at ten?" you ask, words muffled from the sharpie cap in your mouth.
Jungkook shakes his head. "Namjoon hyung said he'll bring it, so I'm free to help set up the bouncy house when the guys arrive."
You nod, drawing a fat check mark next to the boxes that read 'cake' and 'bounce house'. You falter in your actions before pondering aloud. "Would it be fucked up to ask Jake and Heeseung to pick up the pizza?"
Jake and Heeseung were your kids' babysitters/tutors for when neither you or Jungkook could be home. Hey, your kids didn't have the new iPad 5's for no reason; work had to be accomplished. Jake and Heeseung were still college students, but a relationship based on courteous trust between you and them had flourished, so you and Jungkook both whole heartedly trusted them to watch over the twins. Jake and Heeseung love your kids, and your kids love them- maybe a little too much. Haru exposed Hina's crush on Heeseung, which made her dad have a splitting headache and Hina burst into tears while she rolled around on the carpet.
They are still broke college kids, so you did feel somewhat guilty asking them to participate in the preparations for the kids' party, hence why you're verbalizing the inquiry to Jungkook.
Jungkook's eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Why would it be fucked up? We pay each of them fifty dollars an hour, so they better be willing to do us some favors every once in a while."
"You're right, and I know we can count on them. Can you ask them in the groupchat?"
Jungkook does so immediately, and you check off the box that reads 'pizza'. You skim over the other boxes, one reading 'costumes', which refers to the handmade Mario and Princess Peach costumes you ordered. You check the box off, the costumes sitting in a box at the corner of the room.
Face paint? Check. Your friend Miyeon said she was happy and willing to paint the kids' faces. You would just have to reimburse her for the price of the materials.
Yoshi and Bowser mascots? Check. Jungkook's friends Hobi and Jimin were forced agreed to put on the bulky costumes to entertain the kids.
Decorations? Check. You and Jungkook collaborated on a plethora of the cutest DIY decorations- and you were absolutely enthralled with how they turned out. You used old Amazon cardboard boxes to create the item boxes in Super Mario; you used little headbands from the dollar tree to create Mario and Luigi hats for all the guests. AndyYou were particularly proud of the turf you used to create a grass-esque backdrop for the photobooth.
Balloons? Check.
Bubble guns? Check
You plop down on your couch, sinking into the welcoming beige leather of the sofa. "I think we're ready," you mumble aloud, stretching out your poor back muscles that were aching from hunching over.
Before your children's father can even sneak a word in, you’re shifting your body so that your head rests on the armchair, yawning dramatically from the vexing lassitude. “G’night.”
Jungkook smiles bitterly to himself at the sweet sight of you drowsing off.
You're awake just enough to feel him gently lift you bridal style, as if you are as light as a feather before he tiptoes up the stairs, careful not to make any thumping sounds that would wake up the kids. This isn't out of the ordinary. Despite not being together, he found himself carrying you and your children back to your respective rooms quite often. Jungkook often returned home late at night. after a long day of work at Jeon Enterprises, to find you and your little twins asleep on the couch, the TV still playing reruns of Ninjago- the twins' favorite show. Quite frankly he's surprised that they didn't ask for a Ninjago or Lego theme party.
Seeing the way you had each twin snug to your sides, your chest rising and falling while light snores escaped your lips made his heart twist and turn in indescribable ways.
The situation at hand is no different. "Wanna sleep in my room tonight?" Jungkook inquires softly, makes you lazily shake your head. "Too intimate," you sleepily mumble. "We're not together anymore, Koo."
Jungkook bites back a response and silently acquiesces. He walks toward your bedroom instead of his, still with gentle steps to make sure his children don't abruptly wake from their sleep. He gently sets you down on your full sized bed, pulling your thick comforters over your body to shelter you from the cold.
Just as he's about to leave, your fingers are reaching out to tug onto the hem of his oversized black tee. "Just tonight," you murmur, eyes still closed.
Jungkook silently nods, slipping into the bed with you. His breath hitches in his throat when you roll over and lean your head in the crook of his armpit, your hand sneaking up to rest on his chest. The familiar and intoxicating scent of your vanilla body spray debilitates his senses and makes his head dizzy.
It takes him a while to fall asleep that night.
-
"What the fuck?!" the blaring screech of your voice rapidly pulls Jungkook from his slumber. He rubs the crust from his eyes with a fist before blinking at his panicking baby mama who is pacing around the room.
"Did we- did we sleep together?" you whisper yell, as if your previous scream didn't already wake the kids up.
Jungkook sighs at your overt reaction, knowing that it was too good to be true for you to ever warm up to him. "No," he groggily responds, sitting up and resting his back against the bed frame. "We just fell asleep next to each other," he clarifies, somewhat dejectedly.
You huff, a pointer finger and thumb coming up to massage your pounding temples. "We can't do stuff like that!" you hiss behind gritted teeth, your hands thrown down petulantly, an incredulous look on your face, which just makes Jungkook scoff.
Jungkook pushes the comforters aside, sitting on the edge of the bed where he just buries his face into his palms and groans. "Yes Y/N, this is the worst thing in the world! God forbid that you lie next to the father of your children!" he enunciates exasperatingly, irritated that you are so unnecessarily and dramatically pulling your hair out at the mere idea of falling asleep next to him! Like he hasn't seen you butt naked; like he wasn't front row at the birth of his children.
You shoot him a dirty look. "We are not fighting on the day of our children's birthday party," you say sternly, eyebrows creased to show him how serious you are.
"I wasn't the one that started it," is all he mumbles before exiting the room, shutting the door a teeny bit harder than usual, the echo of door slamming leaving you somewhat shaken up.
-
"Thank you so much for bringing the pizza," you smile warmly at Heeseung, one of your kids' babysitters, a stark contrast to when you violently snatch the pizza boxes out of his hand and scurry toward the dining room table to arrange the pizzas around the cake.
Heeseung and Jake awkwardly trail behind you, unsure of what to do when you're basically prancing around the house making sure everything is in order.
"The decorations look amazing Ms. L/N," Jake speaks up, marveling at the Nintendo theme party you've successfully put together. You really are satisfied with how everything turned out. From the giant blow up Mario water slide that cascades into the pool to the mini mushroom cake pops, everything is as pretty as planned. The dining table looks spectacular, the grass back drop you DIY-ed is behind a huge neon sign that reads Happy Birthday Haru and Hina! in the same font as the Super Mario logo.
The kids have yet to arrive, only your and Jungkook's friends are spread around the house; some sit at the coffee tables, others lounged around the couch, Hoseok and Jimin in the upstairs bathroom trying to squeeze themselves into their costumes.
"Thank you," you smile sweetly at the two boys. "Honestly I put so much into it I'm starting to feel like it's my party, but I'm really happy with how it turned out."
Heeseung and Jake politely chuckle along to your attempt of a cordial joke; they had to do stuff like that in order to kiss your ass. After all, you did bless them with a very generous fifty dollars per hour pay rate.
"We have a gift for the kids, by the way," Heeseung adds, holding up and presenting two identical chrome gift bags in his hands.
You shoot them a mother like smile. "Thank you so much, guys. The kids are so lucky to have you in their lives," your words trail off and your attention inevitably shifts to the contents of the gift bag. "May I ask what you got them?" you whisper, the side of your palm on the right end of your mouth so that no one would overhear the shamless inquiry.
"Oh, of course," Jake responds, polite as always. "Just a barbie doll for Hina and some pokemon cards for Haru," he elaborates, a gentleman-like smile on his lips.
"Sorry Ms. L/N, we know it's not much but-"
You don't mean to cut Heeseung off with your hasty actions, but you are just so relieved. All yours and Jungkook's friends are so insistent in spoiling the shit out of your kids. A humble and simple gift like the one from Heeseung and Jake is what you have been begging God for. Your kids are six years old for goodness' sake! There is no reason for them to have overtly luxurious and brand name items.
Before Heeseung can finish the sentence, you're grabbing the two boys' wrists and dragging them over to the mini bar, where Jungkook's friend Taehyung and your friend Soojin sit, leisurely chatting and taking sips out of Caprisuns that were perfectly arranged on the snack table. Your friends are certainly a spectacle, both dressed up as if they were attending a top class business meeting instead of a children's birthday party. Taehyung's wearing a suit and tie, Gucci shoes on his feet while Soojin's adorned in a pink blazer and mini skirt set. She looks impeccable, and had it been a normal day you would have complimented her, but it's not.
"You see this?" you hold up the gifts dangling from your fingers, waving it in Taehyung's face, the two of them owlishly blinking up at you. "Barbie dolls and pokemon cards are what my kids should be getting on their birthday, not a Chanel wallet or Gucci tie!" you hiss, gesticulating towards the Chanel and Gucci bags that idly sit on the gift table.
Taehyung smirks at you, raising a brow while he teasingly gnaws on the plump of hit bottom lip. Soojin just raises her eyebrows in amusement; their eyes meet each other before they both burst out into a fit of giggles.
"Y/N, you're such a cute mom," Soojin cooes, reaching out to pinch the apples of your cheeks. Taehyung mirrors her actions, standing up and gingerly patting you on the head.
"Relax, girly pop," he teases. "No one will even know that the wallet was three thousand dollars. Your kid's not even gonna use a fucking wallet. Just take it for yourself," he casually shrugs, his suggestion making you roll your eyes.
Taehyung randomly gestures to Heeseung and Jake, looking towards you quizzically to request an elaboration of who the two were. "Y/N, don't tell me you.." he postulates, giving you a look that can only be described as perverse, and you understand exactly what he's implying. "Does Jungkook know about this?"
"Kim Taehyung," you say sternly behind gritted teeth, your mom tone jumping out. You inhale, composing yourself before you continue. "These are Hina and Haru's babysitters. They're both business majors at SNU," you explain.
"Ah, business majors!" Soojin claps her hands in excitement. "Let me tell you about my investment firm," she suggests with a cheshire smile, gesturing for the boys to come closer to chat.
Taehyung makes a psshh sound with his lips. "Don't listen to her. Her shit's plummeting on the NYSE. Let me tell you about Kim Estates. We're a private company- actually we're looking for summer interns next year." He slyly pulls out his business card from his shirt pocket with two fingers.
And of course, Heeseung and Jake are oggling at the sight, internally celebrating that they got plugged into one of the top socialite circles in Korea.
You shake your head, somewhat annoyed and somewhat endeared at your friends' antics. You rush upstairs to check on your kids, who are supposed to be changing into their costumes: a Princess Peach dress for your babygirl, and a Mario costume for your baby boy.
You step into the master bathroom upstairs, absolutely enchanted with the sight in front of you. Haru looks absolutely adorable in his denim overalls, red long sleeve tee, and red Mario hat. The brightest of smiles lights up your face, and you immediately pick him up, peppering his face with sloppy mom kisses on his chubby little face. Thank goodness he's not at the age to be grossed out by his mom's affection, so he just giggles in response.
Your mother steps out of the closet, Hina in her arms. Your daughter looks like the loveliest girl alive in her Princess Peach dress, a golden crown adorned on her cute little head.
"Oh my!" you exclaim, rushing towards her. "My princess looks so beautiful!" you comment. You reach out to her with a vacant hand and enveloping her securely with a single arm, so you had one kid on each side of your body.
Hina wiggles in your arms, pouting at you. "Mommy, I told you I can walk all by myself!"she complains, pouting at you whilst she glares at you with a not-so intimidating glare.
You giggle, setting her down at your feet. "Sorry baby girl, I forgot that you're all grown up now!" you tease.
Haru who practically worships his sister follows her lead, wriggling out of your embrace before standing adjacent to Hina. You don't mind it. You're not the type of mother that lives in the past, the type that constantly reminisces over when the kids were babies. You live in the present, enjoying every moment before it passes.
Your mother kisses her teeth, making a tssk sound with her lips before she shakes her head. "These kids are getting too entitled," she grumbles, both of her hands coming down to gently slap both of the kids in the back of their heads.
"Mom!" you hiss, kneeling down and rubbing your hands on their heads to soothe the pain.
Both of your children remain tight lipped, knowing better than to talk back to their sometimes violent grandmother. The apple doesn't fall too far from the tree, you suppose, deciding to relinquish any objection against your mom.
"So Heeseung and Jake are already here," you tenderly say, "Go downstairs and hang out until your friends get here."
Hina immediately crimsons, fidgeting in place at the mention of Heeseung, which elicits a snicker from her brother. "I'm going to tell Heeseung hyung you like him today," he mocks, an immature teasing tone in his voice, typical of a six year old.
Hina fumes, jumping down in place with her hands thrown down. "You better not!" she seethes before directing her attention towards you.
"Mommy, tell Haru that he's not allowed to tell Heeseung oppa I like him!" she cries, jumping up and down to prove a point.
You bite your tongue, briefly recalling when you yourself told Heeseung that your daughter harbored a little crush on him. "Haru," you say sternly, "You will not betray your sister. You guys are on the same team," you firmly instruct, eliciting a snobby look from your son.
"Now go downstairs and greet your friends, okay?"
"Okay, mommy!" they chant in unison before racing down the stairs.
Your mother crosses her arms before she lightly exhales. "They're growing up too fast, already knowing what crushes are," she sighs somewhat bitterly. You chuckle lightly, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. "Times change mom, kids aren't going to act like how I did when I was a kid."
Your mother simply makes the signature tssk sound with her mouth before vacating the restroom. On the way out, she bumps into your bumbling baby daddy, who politely greets her before stumbling into the restroom. When you lay your eyes on him your breath hitches in your throat, because he looks so good. Since the divorce you swore that you would never go back, but he looks so daddy in his white button up, sleeves rolled up to his elbows to show off the tattoos embellishing his forearms.
You're pulled out of your trance by his rambling. "Hina still has a crush on Heeseung?" he hisses, the most mortified haze on his face.
You just shrug, knowing how perplexed he gets at the mere thought of his daughter being romantically involved with somebody. Jungkook paces around the room, grumbling incoherent phrases to himself. "Y/N, should we get new babysitters?" he asks, to which you shoot him an incredulous look.
"No!"
"I just don't want Hina to start loving him more than she loves me, like what the fuck!" he grumbles exasperatingly, which makes you laugh a little.
The harmonious sound of your laughter pulls him from the wormhole of his thoughts. "So this is funny to you?" he satirizes, approaching you as you giggle.
"Yes," you curtly respond, making Jungkook playfully roll his eyes. A brief moment of silence washes over the situation, and you feel the urge to fill the void.
"Look Jungkook," you begin, trailing off a little while you lean against the bathroom counter. "I'm sorry for overreacting this morning. I guess we never really discussed boundaries," you continue, "And-and you are the father of my children so I guess sleeping next to each other shouldn't be that bad- I don't know." You begin rubbing your biceps with your palms, suddenly self conscious of yourself.
Your diffidence softens Jungkook, a familiar ache pounding in his chest. "Hey Y/N, it's okay," he quickly expresses to assuage any insecurities that are bubbling inside of you. He has always been a fool for you. "I think it would be productive to have a conversation about boundaries," he communicates, as polite and sweet as ever. You slowly nod, purposely not replying so that he would have to say something.
"So boundaries?" he ponders aloud, making his way towards you. "Can we hug?" he asks, opening his arms a little, making you pout at the ridiculous question. Nonetheless, you walk into his embrace and wrap your arms around his torso, only momentarily before you step back. "It would be weird if we didn't," you laugh, making him raise a brow.
"What about kissing?"
He asks the question with no particular tone in his voice; he looks serious as ever as he gazes you with his doe eyes, and it makes you gulp. His words have a profound effect on you, making it feel as if your guts are twisting up; you shoot him a firm look to disguise the butterflies bursting in your stomach.
"Jungkook, we can't do this."
"But why not? We live together, have kids together, why can't we?" his eyebrows are furrowed in desperation, and you have to rip your eyes away from the sight in front of you.
"No Jungkook," you calmly explain before inhaling deeply. "We tried before and It-it didn't work out. I don't want our kids to live in a household where their parents are constantly breaking up and getting back together."
Jungkook sighs, sitting on the ledge of the bathtub where he rests his elbows on his thighs. He purses his lips, attempting to conjure a redeemable response.
"Love," you blurt out. "Love. We can't do this because there's no love."
Jungkook slowly raises his head to peer at you. He does it so steadily that it becomes agonizing; you don't want to see the look on his face. When you see him, he just looks defeated. "Do you really feel that way?' he asks, despondency laced in his voice.
You falter momentarily before you look directly at him and nod. He purses his lips before bitterly nodding to himself. "Alright Y/N." And even if your words pierce through him like a bullet, he still speaks with composure and grace. "Let's go downstairs and wait for the twin's friends to arrive. I'll see you there, okay?" He gives you a polite tightlipped smile before walking out of the room.
Once he leaves, a relieving sigh leaves your lips. You know that no matter what Jungkook thinks he feels, his emotions just aren't a direct reflection of reality. You've been with him long tenough to understand that he's mistaking his attachment to you for love. It was only a matter of time for him to realize that the two of you aren't suitable for each other, that it was better for to remain co parents for the sake of your children.
Jumping back into a relationship would only complicate things and exacerbate the situation for the children. You will not let that happen. You recompose yourself, touching up your appearance in the mirror before rejoining the party.
Thankfully, the party goes exactly as planned. This would surely be one for the books, with the kids frolicking through the grass in the backyard with their water guns and Mario hats. Heeseung and Jake served as excellent chaperones/mood makers/life guards, with Hina on Heeseung's shoulders and Haru on Jake's shoulders whilst they sparred in an intense chicken fight. You swore you almost had a heart attack when Tyler, the baby brother of one of Haru's friends leaps into the damn pool. You jumped in with all your clothes on to pick him up and prevent him from drowning.
On top of that, you find Hina's incessant clinging to Heeseung a little excessive. She follows him around like a kicked little puppy, even waiting outside the bathroom while he takes a piss. Poor Heeseung doesn't have it in him to tell Hina to leave him alone, so you have to force Hina to revert her attention to her friends.
The kids absolutely ate the Yoshi and Bowser costumes up, tackling and climbing on poor Jimin and Hoseok as if they were playgrounds. Not to mention that it was absolutely suffocating and hot inside of the costumes.
"Heejoon! Get off poor Yoshi!" Heejoon's mother exclaims, rushing over to practically rip her kid off Hoseok's shoulders. She shoots you an apologetic look, making you laugh.
Towards the end of the party, Miyeon finally pulled out her face painting kit and painted the most beautiful designs on the kids' faces. Hina had a butterflies on the sides of her chubby cheeks, and Haru had the red Spiderman mask on his.
"Oh, try not to sneeze on me when you get your face painted, alright?" Miyeon captures everyone attention when she yells to the long line of children waiting to get her face painted. She wipes off some kid's saliva on her face and presents the kids with a faux smile, not like they'd be able to tell the difference anyways.
Another highlight of the party was when Jungkook's friend Namjoon showed up with his baby girl, Lauren. Unlike Hina and Haru, Lauren is actually a baby- only about five months old and she is the cutest baby you have ever seen in your life. (After Haru and Hina, of course). Lauren really turned out to be the star of the party, everybody crowding around her just to get a glimpse of the kid. You took plenty of photos of your kids with Lauren, pondering when all of Jungkook's other friends would finally have kids of their own. So far it was only Jungkook and Namjoon. You reckon Yoongi may be next since he recently married.
Once all the kids finally leave, you are spent, exhausted from the long and tiresome day that you just lived through. But hey, the all the kids went home in one piece and that's what matters. With much of your gratitude, your friends stick around to help clean up, but you ultimately decide that you would put the real deep cleaning off until tomorrow.
After showering your children and tucking them into bed, you and Jungkook are left sat in his bedroom with the plethora of multi colored gift bags surrounding you. Your friends and your kids' friends' rich parents have spoiled Haru and Hina so much that you the ground isn't even visible.
Jungkook looks equally spent, roughly tugging at the tie that was once neatly tied around his neck. He runs his hand through his hair, exposing his handsome forehead, and you have to force yourself to look away before you start having inappropriate thoughts.
He settles down besides you, leaning against the wall of his bedroom. He holds up a palm, gesturing you to give him a high five, which you gingerly comply to.
"Good job Y/N. You worked really hard today and the party turned out amazing." He offers his utmost kindness and support as he always does, and it's this cordial atmosphere that makes you think that you and he truly are better off as co parents.
You shoot him a confused look. "You did just as much work, Jungkook. Thanks for being such a great father," you grin at him, noticing how his features light up.
He chuckles lightly. "Well, it's our job," he shrugs.
You purse your lips before agreeing. "I think we're pretty good parents," you say half joking, which makes Jungkook laugh.
"Of course we are, the kids have manners, they're provided for, they're healthy- what else could they need?"
"I mean, you're right, but what if we somehow fuck up and cause them some unintentional childhood trauma?" you ponder aloud, which makes Jungkook shoot you a playfully incredulous look. "I highly doubt it," he says. "You're a great mom Y/N, truly. That's why I admire you so much."
His saccharine voice is laced with benignity, making you feel as if colors are bursting in your chest. Is it really necessary for him to be this sweet? He should have told you that you were a great mom and left it at that.
You turn your head just to see that he is already gazing at you with that sincere glimmer in his eyes. It's the same lovestruck look he had on his face at the wedding, honeymoon- the same look he gave you when he first laid eyes on his children. His adam's apple visibly bobs, drawing your attention to his thick neck.
Jeon Jungkook is and will most likely always be the most handsome man you have ever seen.
The thought terrifies you wholeheartedly, but the implication of it is so exciting- so intriguing that you can't help but want to be sucked back into Jeon Jungkook's world. The notion lights a fire in your heart, and your rationality ceases. Your eyes trail up to his eyes, then back down to his mouth, where you subconsciously lick your own lips.
A desperate haze is painted on his face; his eyes are following yours, ignited curiosity adjuring to know what's on your mind. Yet, he cannot bring himself to verbalize his thoughts, too entranced with how utterly beautiful you are.
He exhales slightly, his hot minty breath hitting your face, and that's when you decide fuck it, it wouldn't hurt to give in just once.
You close your eyes and lean in, gently kissing his bottom lip whilst his lips latch on to your top lip. His kisses are so sickeningly sweet, his tongue sneaking into your mouth to make contact with yours. His palm gently raises to cup your cheeks, cradling your face ever so softly while he bestows you with the most languid of kisses. His lips pull you in closer, the cold texture of the buttons on his shirt making you shudder.
You sigh into the kiss, prompting Jungkook to pull you into his lap, which he does with ease. Your legs sneak around his torso, your arms around his neck to be as close to him as possible.
His hands remain wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him. His embrace is so comforting- so secure and familiar that you want to stay in his arms forever.
To your surprise, you aren't nervous; you're eager as ever. You've succumb to the temptation that is Jungkook, and it feels perfect- it feels right, like you're finally home. The sensation of his lips against yours is so familiar, so comforting, so perfect- as if your lips were made to be against his. Despite it being two years since you've kissed him, the two of you make out as if you are professionals at eliciting the sweetest sounds from each other.
The sound of your phone ringing is what draws you away to him, your eyes glancing towards your phone that lights up. "I think Seojun's mother is here to pick up his iPad- he left it here," you explain to which Jungkook just nods.
"Do you want me to hand it to her?" Jungkook asks, slowly and steadily.
The atmosphere is confusing, because the two of you were just making out as if your lips were magnets and now you're speaking awkwardly to each other.
"No, it's okay- um- I can do it," you say, and then you're stumbling out of his lap and walking down the stairs.
find out why jk and oc divorced here!
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crystallinestars · 7 months
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Dancing With Neuvillette
Neuvillette x fem!reader
While attending a ball in Fontaine, Neuvillette notices you standing off to the side, sampling the desserts on the buffet table. You looked absolutely stunning in your white and blue gown, and Neuvillette considered it his duty to greet you as your friend. 
He gives you a polite greeting to catch your attention, and complimented your beautiful appearance. Though his words may seem like common courtesy during such formal occasions, Neuvillette genuine meant them from his heart. Your surprised eyes and round cheeks stuffed with cake didn’t detract from your beauty. If anything, they only made you look even more adorable in his eyes. 
Happy to have someone you know to talk to at the ball, you engage Neuvillette into simple conversation with a bright smile, and your radiant visage fills him with a tenderness he usually only experiences when interacting with the Melusines. 
Onlookers marvel at how the usually stern and elusive Chief Justice appears so amicable around you. The gentle smile on his face softens his features into something almost tender and affectionate. 
When the orchestra starts playing a waltz, you watch as couples pair up and begin dancing along to the music. Their movements are mesmerizing, and you can’t help but want to join in the fun, however you don’t have a dance partner, and don’t want to inconvenience the Chief Justice by asking him to a dance. 
Neuvillette notices the your longing look directed at the dance floor, and immediately understands what you want. Catching your attention once more, he asks if you want to join him for this dance before extending his hand out towards you. The way your eyes light up at his invitation makes his heart skip a beat, but he masks his feelings and gently takes your hand in his before leading you to the dance floor. 
At first, you’re a little shy to be in such close proximity to Neuvillette. You feel small next to him, fully aware of your smaller hand engulfed in his larger one, and his other hand placed firmly against your waist, pulling you close to his body. 
As Neuvillette guides you along to the music, you grow more comfortable and less stiff, enjoying dancing with the handsome man immensely. The two of you twirled and glided along the ballroom in slow yet graceful movements, your skirts billowing around you in a captivating sight that drew the eyes of the people around them.
You didn’t pay the stares any mind, too wrapped up in enjoying the dance and gazing into Neuvillette���s beautiful eyes, meanwhile the Chief Justice kept his gaze focused only on you with that same gentle smile on his face.
The two of you didn’t exchange any words, simply enjoying this short moment of respite from your busy lives to bask in a truly enchanting moment, feeling more drawn to each other than ever before. And if time allows, perhaps you would meet up again in such a dance, where it will be just the two of you and the starry sky above to witness your mutual words of love sealed with a kiss under the starlight. 
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forbiddenxfairytales · 2 months
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Trust Fall
• Author: forbiddenfairytales • Fandom: Hogwarts Legacy • Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Reader • Warnings: 18+ Characters | NSFW | MDNI • Word Count: 23.5k
Summary:
A heady rush of defiance and determination surges through your veins, lighting up all your nerve endings like a live wire, and in your eagerness to rebel against the enchantment, you end up doing the complete opposite of Sebastian's request, hands sliding under the fabric of his cloak and slipping it off of his shoulders in one swift, fluid sweep, silk-lined wool pooling at his feet as you dive straight for his necktie, making a fine mess of the striped emerald and silver satin in your eager attempts to loosen it, fingers curling around smooth silk and giving it a gentle tug to urge him closer, unraveling until it's completely come undone, spilling into the hood of his cloak. The words kiss me ring out inside your head, desperate and longing, and for a moment, you can't tell whether it's his voice or your own imagination, caught up in a fantasy you've been playing out inside your head for the past two and a half years. Or: Sebastian Sallow teaches you how to fight against the Imperius Curse late one night, and in the process, some long-kept secrets are revealed.
✨ Read On AO3 or below the cut ✨
Trust Fall
After a whirlwind first year filled with dragon attacks and crumbling ruins, keepers and keys and hidden passageways, bonds of friendship forged in secrets and fire, daring quests and trying trials to prove your worth to wield an ancient form of magic only few can see, you should have expected your final year at Hogwarts would be anything but uneventful — and that suits you just fine.
Though, eager as you are to move beyond the confines of the castle and take the wizarding world by storm, there's a part of you that isn't quite ready to leave this place you've come to call home just yet, a part of you that's still got a few more noteworthy memories to make. Luckily for you, you've got a best friend who certainly knows how to make things memorable.
Ever since that thrilling excursion to the Restricted Section back in your fifth year, the two of you have been sneaking out of your common rooms almost nightly to go on all sorts of daredevil adventures — midnight waltzes through the Forbidden Forest in search of the legendary unicorn den, swarms of lacewing flies fluttering all around you like traces of dark magic; summer nights spent sneaking out of the sweltering confines of the castle and stealing away to the lake for a refreshing swim, diving down to its depths to see if you can catch a glimpse of a pod of mermaids or the eye of the giant squid, exploring cavernous grottos hidden beneath the waterfall, turquoise and sapphires made of pure light dancing across the surface of the water by the glow of your wands.
And of course, just last autumn, the night the two of you flew to the top of the Astronomy Tower to make wishes on a shower of shooting stars, bright sparks of silver and gold lit up in his warm brown eyes as he'd gazed up at them with a wide smile on his face and slowly counted to eighteen — one wish for each year he'd been alive. You suppose it would've been a truly breathtaking sight to behold, only you were too busy gazing at something far more beautiful, charting constellations of your own design in the sun-kissed freckles that dapple his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.
Luckily, you didn't have to wait long to get your second chance, a flurry of snowflakes swirling down from the sky the night the two of you snuck back up for an encore in celebration of your birthday a few months later, green and silver scarf wrapped around both of your shoulders to keep you warm as you blew out candles lit by an overzealous Confringo cast and shared bites of a slightly lopsided cake he'd insisted on baking himself (though you suspect the only reason it was actually edible was because he'd had help from the house elves.) You never told him, but it was the best birthday you've ever had.
That's just how it was with him. Sebastian Sallow had a way of making every moment feel like an adventure.
And tonight is no exception. An owl asking you to meet him at your usual spot wakes you from your bed at a quarter 'til midnight, and the next thing you know, you're following his Disillusioned form down a candlelit corridor, traversing well-worn paths you've come to memorize like the back of your hand. You assume you're off to the Undercroft as per usual, but the longer you follow, the more it seems Sebastian has other plans (either that, or he has no idea where he's going and is simply feigning confidence — wouldn't be the first time.)
"Sebastian," you hiss, but he doesn't seem to hear you, moving ahead at the same steady pace.
You try again.
"Seb—"
"Bash—"
"Oi, Sebastard!" you call out in a series of escalating whispers, running through your rolodex of well-loved nicknames until he finally hears you, a wrinkle in the hood of his cloak catching under the candlelight as he turns his head in your direction.
"Yes, darling?" he whispers back, and you don't need to see his face to know that he's smirking underneath his cloaking charm. You're suddenly very glad for your own Disillusionment Charm — even though you know he only does it as a joke, purely to rile you up, it still makes you blush up a storm every time he calls you that. Thankfully, you have a lot of practice brushing it off.
"Did my Quaffle hit you a little harder than I thought during last week's match?" you tease, relishing every opportunity to gloat that you were the one to score the final goal and lead your team to victory. "Undercroft's the other way entirely."
"Have a little more faith in me, darling. I know exactly where we're going," he reassures you, cocky as ever. "We're simply taking the scenic route."
"I wouldn't exactly call this scenic," you snicker, casting your eyes around the bare stone walls of the corridor you're currently sneaking down.
"Are you sure about that?" he counters, throwing open the unassuming double doors at the end of the passageway with a graceful flick of his wand.
What lies beyond steals your breath away, shivers akin to a haunting melody in an empty cathedral dancing across the back of your neck as you step into a corridor bathed in glittering golds, greens, and blues, kissed by silver in the light of the full moon spilling through wall-to-wall windows, a mosaic of painted glass depicting star-strewn skies over tempestuous ocean waves, fields of wildflowers dotted between snow-capped mountains, and twisting ivy redolent of the Scottish countryside curling in curtains around a sprawling scenery of a vibrant, lush green forest.
At the very end of the hallway, you spot a familiar fixture — the Serpentine Beast Window, leading right out into the middle of the Defence Against The Dark Arts Tower. How extraordinary — a whole corridor hidden inside of a window. Nearly three years here and you're still discovering new secrets about the castle, despite all your eager exploring back when you first arrived.
"Stumbled upon this little beauty earlier today and immediately thought of you," he says softly, and then quickly clears his throat. "I mean to say, I thought you would like it. And, judging by that little dip in the outline of your cheek that can only mean you're wearing your signature dimpled smile, I'd say I was right."
You turn to face him, exchanging one beautiful scenery for another, wondering just how many of your mannerisms he's got memorized, and could know to look for even when you're nearly invisible.
"And look," he adds with a smug smile, pointing toward the little alcove with the familiar clockwork fixture sat just beneath the Defence Against The Dark Arts classroom as the two of you peer around the corner. "You see? Told you I knew exactly where I was g—"
Without warning, a bat-like figure emerges from out of the blindspot of the alcove, and the two of you immediately fall silent.
"Impertinent piece of— I know there's a secret room hidden behind here, if I could just—" Headmaster Black curses, flitting agitatedly back and forth in front of the clockwork cupboard, muttering all manner of incantations to try and figure out a way inside.
In your panic, the two of you bolt back behind the corner you've just rounded, hastily squeezing into a little recess in the wall of the corridor. You've never been the most graceful of people, tripping over your own feet and nearly falling flat on your face in your eagerness to escape, but Sebastian is well prepared for it, reaching out to steady you, grabbing ahold of your waist and pulling you into the little hideaway. Next thing you know, you're pressed right up against him, caged between the cold stained glass wall and the warm, heavy weight of his rapidly rising and falling chest, heart beating like the wings of a wild thunderbird beneath it.
You've never been this close to him before, but even though he's nearly invisible, you've all but memorized his every feature, so it's easy enough for you to map them all out — from the sharp curve of his jawline to the devil-may-care sweep of his hair, to the plush pink pout of his lower lip, and— uh oh, you're definitely staring. And maybe it's just a trick of the light, but you could almost swear he was too, that little telltale flicker as his eyes snap back up to meet yours.
Ocean blues filter through his Disillusioned form as the aquatic landscape bleeds through from behind him, making him look as though he's one with the water, moonlight dancing along the edges of his outline, igniting him in a soft silver glow. Sebastian was right, it is very beautiful in here…though you'd wager it's less to do with the colorful mosaic and entirely due to the man standing in front of you, lips a mere breath from yours, close enough to lean forward and—
Oh, you really need to sort out your priorities. If you're not careful, your less-than-pleasant headmaster will catch the two of you sneaking around past curfew, and that's worth two poltergeists on a good day. This is no time to be thinking about your best friend's lips, wondering whether they might taste like the strawberry sugar quills he'd snuck the two of you after dinner, or the spearmint toothpaste he uses every night before he goes to bed…
The sound of distant footfalls headed down the opposite corridor snaps you out of your reverie, accompanied by the dulcet tones of your irate headmaster, evidently giving up in his attempts to break past the barrier into the place that's been your refuge for the past two and a half years, until all you can hear is the sound of the Defence Tower's crackling Floo flames and the frenzied staccato of both of you trying to steady your breathing.
"I think we're safe now," you tell him, whispers disguising your breathlessness.
"Hmm?" Sebastian replies with a distracted hum, gaze snapping back up from the shape of your lips for the second time in as many minutes.
Sebastian shakes his head, and for a few nerve-wracking seconds you hold your breath in fear that he can feel the sudden jump in your pulse as he leans in even closer in an effort to peer around the corner, before giving you a quick nod of affirmation and slipping out of the passageway, taking what's left of the air in your lungs along with him. The glass wall against your back suddenly feels a lot colder without Sebastian's warm weight against your chest, and for a brief moment you wonder whether you've gone mad, wishing that Black had hovered around for just a little bit longer.
"Yes, it would appear so…for now, at least," Sebastian grouses, lips twisting into a frustrated scowl. "But if Black's been sniffing around the Undercroft, then it's only a matter of time before he works out how to get inside, and that means it's as good as lost to us as a safe haven. I'm…not sure where else we could go," he says, sounding genuinely heartbroken by the notion of having to cut this little nighttime rendezvous short.
You're about to join him in his lament, when a spectacular idea comes to you.
"Oh!" you exclaim, quickly clapping a hand over your mouth when the outline of his eyebrows shoots up in alarm.
"Sorry, got excited," you explain. Sebastian's lips quirk up in fond amusement.
"Follow me," you whisper, taking him by the hand and leading him up the staircase directly across from the hidden corridor.
"Where—" he starts, but you cut him off with a cryptic, "You'll see."
Without another word, Sebastian follows you up several flights of stairs, twists and turns leading you past Charms and up through the Astronomy Tower, sleeping portraits tutting at the two of you along the way.
"Can't believe I didn't think of it before, but, well…I've only just discovered it, and we've always had the Undercroft, so I didn't think…aha! Here we are," you whisper excitedly as the two of you round one final corner, coming to a stop between a blank stretch of stone and a tapestry of Barnabas The Barmy.
Sebastian looks at you like you've gone mad.
"Darling," he drawls, the affectionate moniker dripping with the urge to tease you senseless. "That's a bare stone wall."
"Are you sure about that?" you ask in a mimic of his playful prodding from earlier, lips quirking up in a smug smile at Sebastian's gasp of surprise as an ornate doorway bleeds into view, sprawling across the stone wall like fast-growing ivy.
With a confident smile, you breeze through the door and into a spacious moonlit room decorated in a blend of botanical greenery and gothic architecture, ceiling enchanted to reflect the world outside, sky full of stars glittering through an array of blossoming vines suspended from the illusion of a skylight.
You haven't quite finished setting everything up just yet, so it's still a little messy in some areas (a seemingly endless struggle to coax the paintings and fixtures to hang just right) but you're fairly happy with what you've done with it so far. A handsome writing desk strewn with stacks of dusty old textbooks, half-finished essays, inkwells, broken quills, and a bowl magically enchanted to fill with fresh fruit whenever you enter the room (courtesy of your friend Deek, who'd noticed you missing meals one too many times because you were too wrapped up in one of your projects, and decided to intervene) sits in one corner, while a potioneer's station with a trio of burners and a potting table with nearly-sprouted dittany and mallowsweet sits in another, a whole empty corridor just waiting to be filled with anything your heart desires (your own private library, perhaps) nestled in between.
"Is this…the Room Of Requirement?" Sebastian whispers from beside you, awestruck expression on full display now he's no longer cloaked by his Disillusionment Charm. "I thought that was just a myth."
"So did I," you chuckle, lifting your own with a casual flick of your wand. "…until a fortnight ago."
Sebastian turns to look at you, eyes narrowing.
"Hang on," he says, tone changing from fascinated to guarded in the span of a few words. "You've known about this room for two whole weeks and you haven't told me?"
You can't but feel a little pang of guilt over how hurt he sounds.
"Come now, it's not like that," you assure him, reaching out to take his hand. Despite his sudden shift in mood, he immediately takes it, fingers slipping easily between your own, sighing as you rub soothing circles along his thumb.
"Like I said, I've only just found out about it," you explain. "Professor Weasley showed it to me after I spoke to her about wishing I had a quieter place to study for my N.E.W.T.s. — suppose she took pity on me, seeing as two out of three of my only years here have been plagued by nerve-wracking exams — let me turn it into my own private study, and decorate how I please. She made me swear not to tell anyone, but…well…you're my best friend, Seb, of course I was planning on telling you. I just wanted to wait until I'd finished setting everything up first," you finish, eyes narrowing at one of the paintings above your desk set several inches above the others at an odd angle.
"You are a wonder, you know that?" Sebastian laughs, warmth flooding back into his features as he gazes down at you with a fond smile, giving the palm of your hand an affectionate squeeze. "You've got all these professors fooled into thinking you're this saintly, rule-abiding student, yet here you are, sneaking out past curfew with the school's biggest mischief-maker to learn forbidden magic in a secret room you swore you'd tell no one about. We do so adore restricted areas, don't we?"
"Forbidden magic?" you repeat, arching a curious eyebrow.
"Why do you think I invited you to meet me tonight?" he says, lips curving up in an impish grin. "I've got another spell I'd like to show you."
Your eyes light up in excitement, eager as the day he taught you Confringo.
"But first, I think you owe a tour of your secret private study, starting with…whatever those are," he says, curious gaze flitting between three magnificent archways connected by an imperial staircase just across the way, slivers of gold waltzing between the branches of two majestic oak trees twisting around the entryway of the first, a lullaby of birdsong and gentle ocean waves echoing from the bright, hazy doorway of the second, climbing vines curling like serpents around water-logged trees cloaked in mushrooms and moss, casting shadows like Celtic filigree across the marble floor as the soft silver glow of magically-conjured moonlight spills down the steps leading up to the entrance of the third.
"Oh, you mean my vivariums?" you reply with an air of feigned nonchalance, smiling at the way he gazes at them with all the wonder of a small child discovering magic for the first time. "Forest, swamp, coastal, or grasslands — where would you like to start first?"
Sebastian turns to look at you, eyebrows arched in astonishment.
"You mean to tell me there's an entire ecosystem in each one of these?" he asks.
"Well, of course," you answer. "Each beast I've rescued deserves to feel right at home, wouldn't you agree?"
"You've got magical beasts in there?" Sebastian huffs out around a disbelieving laugh.
"Would you like to meet them?" you ask, lips curling up in a bright smile.
"Would I like to— is that even a question?" he asks, jubilant.
"Please, lead the way." Sebastian sweeps into a low, theatrical bow and is nearly knocked off his feet as you eagerly tug him by the hand toward the first of four doorways, stepping from the serene moonlit study into a lush green forest teeming with birdsong and honeybees, lit by the soft golden glow of warm summer sunshine.
"—should really check on everyone anyway. I set up an automatic feeder and a toy chest in each one, but they still need to be brushed on occasion so I can collect all their feathers and fur," you ramble, but your idle chatter is lost on Sebastian as he stands there in the middle of the forest clearing, gazing awestruck at a pair of unicorns — a bright white female and her little golden foal, coats adorned with a series of swirling spirals that seem to shimmer in the sunlight — trotting toward you in the distance.
"I— I can't believe it," he breathes. "After all that time we spent searching, you finally found the unicorn den."
"Do you remember that mooncalf den we found in the middle of the Forbidden Forest that one time?" you prompt, smiling at the memory of one of your many midnight forays.
"How could I forget? The way you cooed over them. Adorable," Sebastian teases you with a fond smile.
"Fifty paces east and we would've found it," you tell him, delighting in the impressed look on his face.
"Huh," he muses softly. "All that time, we were so close. Funny how often that seems to happen."
You watch his gaze drift down to your entwined hands and settle there for a moment, heart thundering to the beat of swiftly approaching hooves. Before you can think of anything to say, you're pulled out of the intimate embrace by the arrival of your unicorns, the bright white female nearly knocking you off your feet in her enthusiasm to greet you. She nuzzles at your shoulder before shooting Sebastian a curious glance, her little foal hiding behind her. You've never brought anyone else into your vivariums before, and she has every right to be wary after everything she's been through.
"It's alright. Sebastian is safe, I promise," you assure her in a comforting whisper, reaching up to stroke along the bridge of her nose. She huffs out a breath and closes her eyes, shaking her head in an effort to get you to reach a little bit higher. After a moment's deliberation, she approaches Sebastian, bowing her head and allowing him to touch her. Sebastian shoots you a wary glance, asking your permission. You give him an encouraging nod, and slowly, carefully, he reaches up to gently stroke along the same path, letting out a delighted laugh when she huffs and nuzzles against his shoulder in turn.
"This is Hazel," you tell him with a soft smile. "A lovely woman by the name of Betty Bugbrooke bonded with her when she was just a foal, came to visit her in the forest every week. But one night, they were attacked by wolves, and Hazel ran off scared. Betty worried she might be injured, or worse— that poachers might have gotten to her. She asked if I could find her, give her a safe place to recover. It was only after I brought her here that I realized she was—"
On cue, the little golden foal takes this moment to make his grand entrance, squeezing in past his mother to head-butt Sebastian in the stomach, eager for attention.
"Oof," Sebastian laughs, raising his other hand to gently stroke the foal's mane.
"And this is Hazel's son," you chuckle, glancing back and forth between the two boys. "I haven't thought of a name for him yet — he was only just born last week. Perhaps you could help me name him?"
"You'd let me?" Sebastian asks, pleasantly surprised.
"I think it's only right. He seems to have taken quite a shine to you," you smile as the little foal head-butts Sebastian's outstretched hand.
"Either that or he thinks my fingers are carrots," Sebastian laughs.
"I don't think he's quite figured out how to work the automatic feeder just yet," you venture, glancing back at the row of little wooden crates by the entryway and making a mental note to double check you've conjured the spellcraft correctly. "Would you like to feed him while I brush Hazel?"
"Sure," he says, glancing warily at the automatic feeder, not quite sure how to use it himself. "Should I just—"
Before he can finish asking, you lift your wand and produce a fresh bag of beast feed similar to the ones you've used in class, handing it off to him before conjuring your brush and heading toward Hazel.
Out of the corner of your eye, you watch as Sebastian reaches into the bag and lifts a handful of food into the air, where it floats between himself and the foal, who eagerly reaches forward to chomp at the pieces. Sebastian chuckles fondly at the hungry little unicorn and sets about trying to figure out a name for him, listing a few choices out loud and asking him what he thinks of each one in turn.
"What shall we call you?" Sebastian muses, tapping a finger against his chin. "Oh, I know! How about a wood-themed name to match your mother? Let's see…how do you feel about Hawthorn?"
The golden foal snorts and shakes his head.
"Alright, I'll take that as a no," Sebastian chuckles. "Hmm…how about Rowan, then?"
The little foal stamps his front hoof in even deeper disapproval.
"Well, we can't very well call you Dogwood," Sebastian laughs.
Hazel lets out an impatient snort as she waits to be brushed, bringing your focus rather sharply back to her. You breathe out a hasty apology, but she merely gives you a look like she knows exactly why you were so distracted.
"Hush, you," you admonish her with a small smile, reaching up to brush the tangles out of her long silver-white mane.
Hazel lets out another huff like she's sighing at you, glancing over to watch Sebastian playing with her son, red-faced and laughing as the two of them chase each other across the clearing, before turning back to level you with another pointed look, nodding her head and nuzzling her nose into your shoulder, and you think it might just be the closest anyone's ever come to getting a unicorn's stamp of approval.
A little while later, the two of you are sitting at the edge of the forest by the toy box, discarded cloaks laid out underneath you like a makeshift picnic blanket, watching Hazel and newly-named Willow chasing an unpoppable bubble around the clearing, when Sebastian lets out a long, slow, contented sigh and leans his shoulder into yours.
"I have to admit, it's a wonder I've seen you at all these past two weeks," he says with a soft chuckle, gazing out onto the golden horizon, mesmerized by the way the sunlight kisses the surface of the lake. "I could easily stay like this forever."
He turns to look at you, sunlight dancing in his warm brown eyes just like the stars had that night on the Astronomy Tower.
"Here…with you."
Breath catches in the back of your throat as you look at him, eyes trailing down the curves of his freckled cheeks to land on his lips again. Here in the soft afternoon light, his freckles are more pronounced than ever, each one a kiss from the sun. You imagine him spending his summers running around outside, tearing through the countryside on all sorts of rollicking adventures, tending to the gardens and livestock in the village on his quieter days. Perhaps that's how he developed such a sturdy build, broad shoulders straining against the sleeves of his button-up, rolled halfway to his elbows, baring toned, freckled forearms that flex with each flick of his wrist as he guides the moving path of the unpoppable bubble.
You feel your body start to lean forward of its own accord, eyes fluttering closed, but manage to stop yourself before you do something monumentally stupid like kiss your best friend in the middle of a magically-conjured forest clearing.
"Ah, but then you wouldn't get to see the rest of my vivariums," you quickly recover, jolting yourself out of the moment.
"Merlin, I forgot," Sebastian shakes his head, seemingly coming out of his own little reverie. "This is just one of three."
"Four," you correct him with a small smile. "The doorway to the grasslands sits just above the entrance to the Room Of Requirement."
"I didn't even notice," Sebastian marvels. "I was so preoccupied with the three right in front of me."
You slowly get to your feet, dusting grass off the edge of your skirt.
"Well then, are you ready to see the next one?" you ask, holding out your hand.
"Absolutely," he says, taking your offered hand, though he does most of the heavy lifting as you help him to his feet. You expect him to let go once he's standing, but he only holds on tighter, slipping his fingers back in between yours. You can't help the rush of warmth that surges through you at the contact.
"Shall we take the scenic route?" you ask, inclining your head toward the darkened forest just ahead.
"Is there any other way to travel?" Sebastian quips back, eagerly following at your side.
Jobberknolls and fwoopers fly overhead, weaving between the autumn-kissed treetops as the two of you make your way through the thicket, while kneazles chase rolling puffskeins through the leaf-strewn undergrowth. As the two of you trudge along, the forest itself grows darker and darker, fading from the warmth of a golden summer's day into a misty moonlit night, the ground beneath your boots becoming steadily more uneven and unforgiving, solid dirt and gnarled tree roots giving way to soft, muddy earth dotted with moss and mushrooms, puddles of water stretching between patches of grass and tall, swaying cattails, until you reach the very edge of the forest, opening out onto the swamplands.
Sebastian lets out a sharp gasp, faltering for a moment when he sees two skeletal, horse-like creatures with wingspans the size of a Hebridean Black swoop down from the night sky to land at the edge of the forest, one pitch black like the sky above, one as bright as the moon.
"You have thestrals?" he whispers, equal parts amazed and apprehensive.
"There's a den just north of here," you tell him, giving the palm of his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Absolutely riddled with poachers, last time I checked. It's not safe for them out there anymore, at least not at the moment. So, Deek asked me to rescue a mated pair."
"Deek," Sebastian repeats, the name somewhat familiar. "That's that house elf that's friendly with Professor Weasley, right?"
"The very same," you reply with a small smile. "He's the one who helped me set up my study, in fact; encouraged me to rescue as many creatures as I could, give them a safe place free from the threat of poachers."
"Which is how you ended up with a mated pair of thestrals," Sebastian concludes, sounding both amused and impressed.
"Gomez and Morticia," you answer with a cheerful nod.
Sebastian glances at you, one eyebrow arched in amusement.
"It's what I've taken to calling them," you say with a small shrug. "Suits them, don't you think?"
Sebastian watches the pair of bad omens curl up together under the shade of a weeping willow, Gomez stretching out his wings to wrap around Morticia's shoulders like a protective shield, before leaning forward to nuzzle his nose against hers.
"It certainly does," Sebastian replies with a soft smile.
He turns back to look at you, teasing grin returning in full. "Came up with names for all of them, have you?"
"Of course," you reply with a jovial smile. "It would get awfully confusing if I didn't, especially with an entire herd of— aha! There they are, right on cue."
One by one, all seven of your mooncalves emerge into the clearing, moonlight dancing in their big, bright blue eyes, webbed feet splashing through muddy puddles as they all come hurdling toward you, jumping up and down, enveloping you in a cuddly circle. You greet them all by name — Millie, Mooncake, Marzipan, Vanilla Bean, Snickerdoodle, Pancake, and Jellybean — giggling and cooing over them as you ask each one how they've been, who's hungry, and who needs to be brushed.
Too wrapped up in your little herd to notice the way Sebastian's lips curl up in a soft, smitten smile as he watches you, heart fluttering inside his chest at how utterly adorable you are, how big and pure your heart is. Of course you'd have a whole herd of them. He shouldn't have expected anything less.
"Where on earth did you find them all?" he asks, huffing out a laugh as one of the braver ones comes sniffing around his ankles, peering up at him expectantly.
"Poacher camps," you explain, upper lip curling in a scowl. "Every so often, I'll come across an encampment near their den in the forest, catch them before they manage to steal away with their quarry. They mostly use cages with level one locks, so they're easy enough to pick while their backs are turned, but it's not exactly the quickest process. So far, I've only been caught twice. Managed to duel my way out of trouble without too much fuss — nothing a vial or two of Wiggenweld couldn't patch up — and more importantly, without any mooncalves getting hurt in the process. Poachers scare pretty easily when they find out a student knows Confringo — thanks for that, by the way."
You look up from your little herd of mooncalves to find Sebastian staring at you in astonishment, mouth hanging open like you've just revealed some grand secret double-life, so distracted he doesn't even notice the muddy paw prints saturating the knees of his trousers as Jellybean jumps up to nose at his pocket, searching for treats.
"You—" he falters, breath coming out in a disbelieving laugh. "You're amazing, you know that? I wondered where you'd been disappearing off to whenever you weren't with me. Speaking of which…I'd like to come with you next time, if you'll have me. Help you fight the baddies, keep these little ones safe," he says, leaning down to stroke the top of Jellybean's head and letting out a contented hum when she closes her eyes and makes a high-pitched squeaking sound.
"I take back every time I've ever teased you for going soft over these little gremlins. I can see now why you like them so much," he relents, chuckling as Jellybean purrs and nuzzles her head against the palm of his hand, eager for more scritches.
"Aren't they wonderful? They're so sweet and soft and silly," you laugh as you watch a trio of little ones chasing after a tiny floating moon conjured from the toy box with all the fondness in the world. "Oh, I just love them so much."
"Is that what it takes to earn your love? I'm at least one out of three of those things," Sebastian chuckles under his breath, eyes growing wide the moment he realizes he's just said that out loud.
"Sorry, didn't quite catch that," you say, struggling to hear anything over the sound of Snickerdoodle happily crunching away as you feed him a handful of treats.
"Nothing," Sebastian lies, summoning a handful of beast feed from out of your bag with a flick of his wand. "I was just asking Jellybean here if she was hungry."
At the mention of food, all seven of your mooncalves come gallivanting up to surround you both, floating toy moon immediately forgotten.
"Alright, easy there, I promise I won't let anyone go hungry," Sebastian reassures them, laughing as their little pink tongues poke out to tickle the palm of his hand. There's no Hazel to tease you this time as you stand there, rooted to the spot as though you've just been Stunned, one breath away from sighing like a lovesick damsel as you watch Sebastian dote on your mooncalves, heart threatening to burst with the overwhelming love it carries.
You wait until the very last mooncalf has huddled in with the rest of their herd and laid their head down in the tall, swaying grasses to drift off to sleep, fur brushed and bellies full, before making your way to the next vivarium. Together, the two of you wade through knee-deep swamp water littered with lily pads and lotus flowers, cloaks soaked and caked in mud and moss, until you reach the mouth of a darkened cave, shards of moonstone jutting from floor to ceiling like rows of shark's teeth.
Led by the glow of your wands, the two of you carefully make your way through the cavernous passageway, a kaleidoscope of colors bursting across the walls each time your light shines through a cluster of crystals, until eventually, the light at the end grows bright enough to outshine even the strongest of light spells, a symphony of crickets and tree frogs and echoes of dripping stalactites giving way to the soft cries of seagulls and gentle ocean waves, moss giving way to seaweed, until the muddied puddles of the swamp meet little whirlpools of sea water.
Together, the two of you step out into a bright, hazy world lit by golden sunlight streaming through fluffy white clouds stretched across a brilliant blue sky, ocean waves crashing against massive weather-worn rocks surrounding you on all sides.
After thestrals and unicorns, Sebastian really shouldn't be surprised to learn that you have hippogriffs too, but he gasps in disbelief all the same when two of them come swooping down from the sky to land right in front of you, eager to be brushed and fed.
They're wary at first, only used to you, Natty, and Poppy from your daring rescue weekend last, watching Sebastian with a kind of cautious curiosity as he dips into a low bow, warm brown eyes fixed first to Highwing's golden gaze, and then Caligo's piercing bright blue. After a moment, the two of them bow their heads, allowing Sebastian to come stand beside you and brush them, Caligo affectionately nipping at the hood of Sebastian's cloak when he sneaks him a few extra treats from your bag of beast feed.
"Keep that up, and I bet he'll let you ride him in no time," you chuckle, plucking another loose feather from Highwing's bright white plumage and stowing it in the pocket of your cloak.
Sebastian turns to look at you, eyes wide with excitement.
Your lips quirk up in a smug smile.
"There's nothing quite like the view of the castle grounds from the back of a hippogriff," you sigh, mischief dancing in your eyes as you cast him a playful grin. "Want to see for yourself sometime?"
"Do you even have to ask?" Sebastian quips back, lips pulling up into a brilliant smile.
"Is it just the two of them in here, or are there any other surprises I should know ab—" Sebastian barks out a startled laugh as a bright white diricawl bursts into existence right beside him.
"Oh, hullo Gwyneira, nice of you to join us," you chuckle as the squat little bird marches up to the automatic feeder, bobbing and weaving without a trace of fear between the hippogriffs' taloned feet, and steals three helpings' worth of food before disappearing again with an audible pop.
You didn't think Sebastian's face had room for any more freckles, but after a long stretch of sitting at the edge of the beach, dark gray trousers rolled up to his knees, wool socks and worn leather boots discarded in favor of dipping his toes into the sand, tempting the water to come up and kiss the soles of his feet, you're proven quite wrong, a ruddy hue settling into the hollows of his cheeks as he squints against the blinding sunlight and watches in fascination as Caligo and Highwing take to the skies.
Eager to see where they're off to, the two of you make your way a little further east, where a large formation of rocks leads up a steep cliffside covered in a thick coat of lush greenery, cracked and crumbling steps ascending to the ruins of an old castle. It's a bit of a climb that's hell on both your knees, but the view at the top is well worth it, sunlight spilling over a landscape that seems to exist forever in the golden hour, rolling grasslands teeming with billywigs and honeybees buzzing about a colorful sweep of wildflowers, surrounded on all sides by majestic, snowcapped mountains.
Sebastian gazes out onto the horizon, elbows resting against the edge of the wooden guardrail fencing in the highest outlook of the clearing, mesmerized by the way the sunlight hits the glittering golds of Highwing's feathers and the cool blues of Caligo's as the two of them soar across the mountain range, when a flash of bright red wings swoops by overheard, wind curling its fingers through his hair.
"Is that— oh, there's no way," Sebastian gasps in unbridled excitement.
"Oh, did I forget to mention I have a phoenix?" you reply cooly, though your proud, beaming smile gives you away.
"Incredible," he says, a little breathless as he watches the legendary bird soar across the mountainous landscape. "Absolutely incredible."
He turns to look at you, sunlight catching against the back of his frame and igniting him in a soft golden glow, fixing you with a smile that's somehow even softer as he adds, "Every time I think I've seen everything, you always find a way to surprise me."
Sunlight spills across his features as he holds your gaze, kissing brand new freckles into the curves of his cheeks and the bow of his lips, and in that moment you've never been more jealous of the sun, longing to follow in its lead.
You're shaken out of the moment by a series of curious squeaks and whines, turning in time to see a family of nifflers eagerly waddling up the path toward you, keen to sniff you out and see if you've got anything valuable to nick. You introduce Sebastian to the felonious foursome — the infamous Irondale Pilferer, Calamity, his partner in crime, and their newborn twins, Mischief and Rascal. Sebastian greets them with a friendly smile, crouching down to tickle Mischief's belly and laughing when a handful of coins comes spilling out of her pouch. You tell him he's more than welcome to pocket them…if he can manage to keep them out of her brother's clutches.
Sebastian lets out a deep, contented sigh as he gazes out into the distance, watching as the sun slowly starts to slip beneath the mountains, bathing the clearing in hazy shades of citrus and rose.
"Blimey, how long have we been in here?" he laughs, glancing down at the edges of his nearly-dried cloak. "It feels so real in here, I'd honestly forgotten we're still in a room inside the castle, and haven't just traversed the whole of the highlands in the span of— what, a couple of hours? This place feels never-ending, it'll be a wonder if we ever manage to find our way back."
He glances over at you suddenly, a worried crease settling into his brow.
"Do you know the way back, or do we just live here now?" he asks, huffing out a nervous laugh.
"Come along, lost boy. Let's get you home," you tease, fixing him with a fond smile as you take him by the hand and lead him down a curved, winding pathway that twists around the cliff face of the clearing, tall grasses and fragrant wildflowers weaving between the pickets of the worn wooden guardrail, down down down until you reach a magnificent waterfall spilling out into a vast, glittering lake on the periphery of a familiar terrain.
As you climb down the last moss-covered boulder and make your way across the clearing, you spot Hazel curled up around her little foal, the two of them softly dozing under the shade of an oak tree, gentle sunlight spilling through its branches in a lazy waltz across the lush green grass.
Hand in hand, the two of you step back through the doorway opposite the edge of the forest, and into the heart of your starlit study.
Sebastian shakes his head like he's coming out of a trance, glancing back toward the sunlit doorway to double check it hadn't all just been a dream.
"An entire world — sorry, four entire worlds — existing inside a single room in the castle?" he marvels, breathless laughter rushing out of him as he glances around the study. "And you managed to set all this up in just two weeks?"
"Well, I had a lot of help," you're quick to assure him, not wanting to take all the credit. "From Deek and the room itself."
"But you're the one rescued all those creatures, and you chose all the decor, didn't you?" he insists, playfully knocking his shoulder against yours.
"I suppose that's true…" you relent, lips curving up in a proud smile as you glance around the room, sleek mahogany bookshelves lining nearly every wall, just waiting to be filled with all your favorites, moonlit sky casting shadows on the polished marble floor through the twisting greenery adorning the skylight up above.
"It's magnificent, by the way…your private study," he tells you, voice soft and low as he turns back to look at you.
"Our private study now, if you'd like," you correct him, mesmerized by the way the moonlight dances in his eyes.
"A secret room that's just ours alone? Oh, I like the sound of that very much," he says, voice close to a whisper now as he keeps his steady gaze fixed on yours.
It's easier to catch this time, now you're no longer under the spell of a Disillusionment Charm, the way his eyes trail down to your lips and linger there, just for a moment. Your tongue darts out to swipe across your bottom lip in instinctual anticipation, and you could almost swear you hear his breath hitch, hand gripping yours a little tighter.
And oh, you're going to do something very stupid if you don't snap yourself out of this right now.
"So," you prompt, embarrassed by how breathless you sound. "You promised to show me something forbidden tonight?"
Sebastian blinks, eyebrows jumping to his hairline.
"What?" he blurts out, half shocked disbelief, half breathless laughter.
Ah. You just clocked the way that sounded. Brilliant subject change. Spectacular choice of wording right there.
"You— you said you had a spell you wanted to show me?" you clarify, cheeks burning at the eager look in his eyes.
"Oh," Sebastian breathes, shoulders sagging a little. He shakes his head to try and clear it.
"Right, we should—" he falters, suddenly nervous, hand slipping out of yours as he makes his way into the middle of the study. (You try very hard not to mourn the loss, the space between your fingers a little too empty without his to fit perfectly between them.)
The look he gives you as he stands opposite you is apprehensive, posture worse than usual as he ducks his head down in an effort to appear smaller.
"So…" he starts, lips pulling up in a wincing smile. "I trust you remember a little spell called…" he swallows. "…the Imperius Curse?"
All the air rushes out of the room like a Dementor's kiss, fear lancing through you like slivers of ice, leaving pins and needles in its wake.
It's been over a year since the catacombs. You thought he'd put all that behind him.
"Sebastian…" you say his name like a warning.
Sebastian puts his hands up in surrender.
"Allow me to explain," he says softly. "Please."
You purse your lips, eyes narrowed. After a moment's deliberation, you let out a sharp sigh and give him an impatient look, your silence giving him permission to continue.
Sebastian breathes a sigh of relief and nods in gratitude.
"Okay, so…hear me out," he starts. "You and I have both known what we wanted to do since the end of our fifth year, yeah? But getting Outstandings in our O.W.L.s is only the beginning. If we're to have even a shot at surviving life as Curse-Breakers, then we need to be prepared for what's out there."
"Even— no, especially— all the things the school deems too dangerous for us to even know about. Honestly, what's the use in Defence Against The Dark Arts if they're not going to teach us how to properly defend ourselves against the Dark Arts?" Sebastian scoffs, rolling his eyes as he riles himself up over his longstanding disdain for the curriculum.
Your lips twitch into a small smile in spite of yourself.
Sebastian shakes his head and lets out a wearying sigh, reeling himself back in, gaze softening as he turns back to look at you.
"Listen, I know you didn't want to learn it last time…but this time, I really think you should," he insists, solemn conviction laced with an undercurrent of soft, desperate pleading. "Not for the purpose of using it on anyone, but so you can understand how it works, the kind of power that comes with wielding it, and most importantly, how to fight against it, so that if anyone is ever fool enough to cast it on you, you won't be so easily subject to their whims."
A shudder runs through the both of you at the very thought, Sebastian bristling with a kind of fierce protectiveness you've only ever seen him display for a few choice souls — his twin sister, his oldest friend, and you.
"And the other two curses?" you ask tentatively, voice low and quiet as your vision swirls with sparks of acid green and crackling carmine, a phantom burst of pain unlike anything else in this world rippling across your abdomen as the memory of cold stone beneath your hands and knees overwhelms you. "Would you have me fight against those, too?"
"No!" Sebastian says a little too sharply, terror flashing in his eyes.
He takes a deep breath, grounding himself.
"The only one I feel even remotely comfortable casting on one another is the Imperius Curse. In the right hands, it's the only one that isn't inexorably harmful…the only one anyone's ever been able to fight against. With the other two, it's really just a matter of…of dodging it," he swallows thickly, a flash of guilt tightening his jaw. "Or…or enduring it."
Sebastian's expression darkens and you know he's thinking back to the Scriptorium again, his reaction so raw and visceral it's as though you're back on a different stone floor, tears drenching the hood of your cloak as he'd clung to you, shoulders shaking in violent, body-wracking sobs.
It's not as though he's made peace with what happened with his uncle, or that he feels more remorse for one grievance over the other. You suppose it's just a little easier to contend with your past mistakes, to quiet the voices of all the people you've wronged, when you don't have to look one of them in the eye every day…when they've been nothing but kind and loyal to you, and all you did in return was repeatedly let them down.
And you know, because he's told you countless times now, that there isn't a single day that goes by where he doesn't wish it'd been him instead, that he should've fought harder against your refusal to cast it on him. But that's an empty regret, because even if you had to go back and do it all over again, you still never would have let him be the one to take it.
"I'll never cast that spell on you ever again," he says, broken, choking. "Once was already too much. I'm so—"
"I know you are," you tell him softly, the same words you've repeated countless times since that quiet little moment in the Undercroft at the end of your fifth year.
You'd kept in touch over the summer, too eager to hear from him to follow through on any half-baked notions of needing space. And a good thing, too — Sebastian, it seemed, was just as keen to hear from you in return. He'd written dozens of letters — two, three, four, sometimes five times a week, if his owl was feeling up to it (though according to one of his letters, she'd start biting his fingers if he ever reached for his quill a sixth time in the span of a single week.)
He never veered toward the topic of your magic or what happened down in the catacombs, content to talk at length about the mundanities of your day instead, asking after your fancy new life in London living all on your own in the flat Fig had left you in his will, commiserating over the hardships of settling a late loved one's affairs. He never seemed bored in the slightest, even when you felt you were droning on about nothing, always happy to hear what you've been up to, even on the days you never left the house. To Sebastian, it seemed no subject could be exhausted, especially when it came to you.
In each new letter, he'd oh-so-casually ask about one of your favorite things, from sweets to flowers to the muggle authors you'd grown up reading, and every week, you'd find a little hand-wrapped parcel among his many letters — a box of sugar quills or a chocolate frog he'd picked up in Hogsmeade the weekend before, a bright blue jobberknoll feather he'd found at a nearby den and fashioned into a quill, fresh honeysuckles and hyacinths from his neighbor's garden pressed between the pages of a quote he'd scribbled down from one of your favorite books, along with an essay on why he liked it.
He'd been keen to keep you up-to-date on how he'd been faring too, eager to keep busy and make himself useful, helping his neighbors with various errands and tasks they might need done, tending to livestock and community gardens, helping to fix up the hamlet in the wake of loyalist destruction. He spoke like he was desperate to prove himself, prove he was keeping his word. A few times, you couldn't help but giggle at the way he sounded like an overzealous suitor trying to woo his intended, keen to sell up his accomplishments.
At first, you'd thought it was simply because he was lonely, that you were his only correspondent, but then Ominis finally broke his silence in July (insisting in his letters to you that given the choice between his family's company and Sebastian's, he supposed he'd rather tolerate the latter, and not because he missed the impish bastard, or anything — his words) followed by a tentative hope you're well from Anne in August. Though she hadn't quite been ready to forgive him back then, Anne was still anxious to know how her brother was faring, not-so-subtly asking if you'd heard from him in her owls to you, and, according to Anne's letters, getting an earful from one of her former neighbors.
After Anne left Feldcroft, she'd kept in touch with one of the neighbors she'd always been closest to — a kindly old woman who used to send over home-cooked stews when Anne and Sebastian first arrived on Solomon's doorstep, and who'd apparently been singing Sebastian's praises all summer for all the hard work that nice young man had been doing to help cut back on the gnome infestation threatening to overtake her rose garden.
Evidently, there were only so many times Anne could bear to hear about that poor boy's crumpled face every time the old woman mentioned Anne's name in passing, how sweet it was that he missed his twin, but wished her luck in her travels as she took a much-needed respite to mourn the loss of their uncle, opting to stay behind and look after the estate, that she'd finally broken and decided to send him a letter. Just one line — hope you're well — but to Sebastian, it was everything.
And yet, the frequency with which he wrote to you never wavered. If anything, it'd given him even more to talk about.
You remember how excited he'd been for term to start back up again — it was all the two of you seemed to be able to talk about in the days leading up to September. You'd grown so used to his presence, even if it was only through letters, that the stroll through Diagon Alley felt rather lonely without him, as did the train ride from King's Cross (though an afternoon of stories, snacks, and Exploding Snap with Ominis, Poppy, Natty, Garreth, and Amit certainly made for a lovely journey through the countryside) but seeing as he could easily get all his supplies in Hogsmeade and simply use the Floo Network to travel to the castle, it seemed rather silly to invite him to come all the way to London, just to go all the way back.
You remember the way the floor fell out from underneath you the first time you saw him again — teeth as white as a Patronus Charm against the sun-kissed glow of his skin, an impossible surplus of freckles scattered across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, spilling into the curves of his dimples as his lips pulled up into a bright smile, warm brown eyes lit up like afternoon sunlight across the forest floor, somehow even taller and stronger than he'd been only a few months prior as he'd rushed toward you and lifted you off your feet in a dizzying hug, shivers dancing down your spine as he'd buried his face into the crook of your neck and whispered, "Merlin, I've missed you."
By then, you'd finally begun to admit to yourself that maybe, quite possibly, you might have developed something of a small crush on your closest friend. This moment clearly endeavored to whack you round the back of the head with it.
Laughter caught like honey in the back of your throat as you'd pulled back to look at him, cheeks burning like you'd just hugged a living Confringo blast, and said, "Thought you'd be sick of me by now. We only wrote each other every day."
But Sebastian's sincerity only grew stronger.
"Never. Much as I looked forward to your letters, it's not the same as getting to see you in person. Merlin, can't believe it's been almost three months since I last saw you. You look—"
Sebastian paused, eyes lingering on the silken spill of your hair as it cascaded down your shoulders, longer now and out of its usual braid, the healthy glow that had blossomed across your cheeks from all those downtown strolls in the warm summer sun, same bright eyes, same soft smile you always seemed to reserve just for him.
"I sure hope the end of that sentence is good," you'd teased in the wake of the silence that stretched between you, momentarily worried you had some leftover pumpkin pasty on your face, or forgotten to repair a singe in your cloak.
But then Sebastian had let out the softest laugh, ducking his head in a sheepish grin and peering up at you through his lashes. And Merlin, how your heart raced.
"That's one word for it. Good. You look good," he said softly.
He looked at you for a moment longer, lips pulling up into a soft — dare you call it adoring — smile. And then he shook his head, and in the next instant it was gone, replaced by something sharper, cheekier.
"Though it appears you've somehow gotten even shorter since the last time I saw you," he added in a teasing lilt, lifting his arm and settling it atop your head as though you were a particularly moody armrest.
"Or you just shot up over the summer, you bloody tree," you'd quipped, wriggling out from under his arm, only for it to fall around your shoulders and stay there until they called for everyone to take their seats for the start of term feast.
Sebastian's laughter lanced through you like a bolt of lightning, and you spent far more time than you'd care to admit lying awake later that night wondering whether he'd planned it.
The next morning, you awoke to find him waiting for you bright and early outside of your common room, in the midst of a heated debate with the eagle doorknocker over the answer to the riddle when is a door not a door?
"When it's ajar," you'd answered as you stepped out into the corridor, eagerly accepting the freshly-baked croissant held out in his hand.
"That's—" Sebastian blurted out, flustered. "How is that more of a correct answer than a portrait? Ever heard of the Fat Lady? The painting of the ticklish pear? The doorways to both the kitchen and the Gryffindor common room are literally hidden behind a portrait. So technically, my answer was correct."
You'd never seen a doorknocker look so exhausted.
"Does this little serpent belong to you?" the bronze eagle asked you as it cast a wearying glance at Sebastian.
Now that's one hell of a riddle.
"I— yes. He's with me. Sorry," you answered quickly, turning on your heel and steering Sebastian down the corridor before the doorknocker decided to exact vengeance by locking you out of your common room later that night.
You glanced over at the serpent in question, shit-eating grin spread across his ruddy cheeks.
"Sebastian," you prompted as you took in the sight of him, out of breath as he greeted you with a cheeky hello you. "Do you know how many staircases it takes to get from Slytherin Dungeon to Ravenclaw Tower?"
"Oh bloody hell, not another riddle," Sebastian groaned.
"Seventeen," you replied, cheeks aching from the effort of trying not to laugh. "Seventeen staircases. And you climbed all of them this morning just to…what, argue the merits of what makes for a good riddle with my house's doorknocker? You do know I could've just met you in the Great Hall, right? You didn't have to go to all the trouble."
The redness in the hollows of his cheeks spread like wildfire across the bridge of his nose, nearly drowning out the smattering of freckles there.
"Well yeah, I could've just waited downstairs," he brushed it off with false bravado. "But I figured it's only right I escort my charge to her first day of classes. It is a special occasion, after all."
"Is it, now?" you asked, smile growing even wider.
"It is," he quipped. "Did you know it's officially been one whole year since the day we met?" he asked, puffing out his chest with a kind of pride that made your stomach swoop like you just fell through the vanishing step in the grand staircase.
"You mean since I knocked you on your arse?" you teased around a mouthful of warm flaky pastry and rich chocolate.
Sebastian pouted at you and made a grab to take back his croissant, barking out a laugh when you shrieked and proceeded to shove the entire thing into your mouth.
"The very picture of grace," he'd mused, smile fit to bursting as you stuck your tongue out at him.
"Speaking of which," he added, smile turning sly. "I think it's high time we had a rematch, wouldn't you?"
"Eager to make losing to me a yearly tradition?" you smirked.
"You wish," he snorted, smile fond as he rolled his eyes. "Meet me in the Undercroft after your last class, and we'll set the record back to rights."
"I look forward to sweeping you off your feet again," you countered with a playful smile.
Sebastian's eyebrows drew up the slightest fraction, lips pulling into a soft, amused smile as he let out a sound that was half hum, half laughter.
"Here's hoping one of these days I can manage to do the same," he'd mused, all the air rushing out of your lungs in a single breath as he took a step closer and reached out to swipe his thumb across your lower lip.
You had half a mind to wonder whether the duel had begun early, whether he'd been practicing wandless, nonverbal spells over the summer, and had struck you unawares with a combination of ice and fire charms, heart pounding in your chest as you watched his tongue dart out to lick a dab of melted chocolate off the edge of his thumb, darkened gaze locked on yours the whole time.
"See you then," he said, the low hum of his laughter stirring something that felt an awful lot like wings in the pit of your stomach, threatening to burst out of you and chase him down the corridor as you watched him walk away.
It took you five whole minutes to find your way to your first class, despite the fact that he'd literally walked you to the door.
You were still in a bit of a daze when you'd strolled through the sliding gate several hours later, hair wild from a particularly humid session in Potions brewing your first-ever N.E.W.T. level Draught Of Living Death, a streak of dirt on your nose from wrangling a screaming mandrake into a fresh pot of soil in Herbology — at least, that's the excuse you'd told yourself when Sebastian caught you off guard in the middle of your rematch, knocking you off your feet with a well-timed Depulso that had absolutely nothing to do with the way his forearms flexed beneath his rolled-up sleeves.
The spell hit you directly in the stomach and had you gasping like you'd just been struck by a charging graphorn. You vaguely registered the clattering of a dropped wand against worn stone, and in the next moment, Sebastian was on his knees beside you, hands reaching out reflexively and then faltering in midair, like he wasn't sure what to do, whether he was allowed to touch you.
You'd laughed it off, relieved for that first rush of air back into your lungs, head swiveling to where he kneeled beside you, preparing to see a sheepish grin, a wincing apology made less effective by a triumphant, gloating smirk, but all you saw when you looked into the eyes of your best friend was sheer terror, and you knew in an instant where his mind had gone.
Sebastian's gaze flitted between your eyes and the place you'd been hit — the very same spot his Cruciatus Curse had struck you less than a year prior.
"Oh Sebastian, it's okay," you reassured him, wincing at the slight wheeze to your voice. "I'm fine, see? It wasn't anything like—"
Sebastian's lower lip trembled, and in the next moment you'd been pulled into a tight embrace, shaking in his arms as seismic sobs wracked his entire body, an endless chorus of I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please forgive me spilling from his lips.
You'd held him back just as tight, assuring him between gentle strokes of his hair that you'd long forgiven him, that you knew he didn't have a choice.
"But I did have a choice," he argued, pulling back to fix you with a red-rimmed scowl. "I led you down there. I insisted. I'm the one who got us into that impossible situation in the first place. I made so many terrible choices, and all that time I let myself believe it was worth it because I thought I was doing the right thing. But in the end, all I did was hurt the people I—" he faltered, swallowing around a sharp burst of nerves that only had half to do with the guilt welling up inside him.
"I've had all summer to relive what I did to you…to everyone," he whispered softly, haunted by ghosts both living and dead as he'd looked into your eyes.
It's the same way he looks at you now, desperate and pleading for forgiveness you've already granted him, absolution he still won't allow himself.
You know how much he regrets it, how deeply it haunts him, even now. You know he's changed, learned from his past mistakes, determined never to repeat them. You know you can trust him. So if Sebastian wants you to learn one of the Unforgivable Curses, then you have to trust that it must be for good reason.
"So you're telling me it's actually possible to fight against the Imperius Curse?" you ask, still wary, but, you'll begrudgingly admit, curiosity effectively piqued. "How in Merlin's name did you ever learn how to do that?"
Sebastian lets out a breath he'd likely been holding that entire time, some of the tension unraveling from his shoulders as his lips pull into a smile like he's relieved you're still standing here with him, eager to share in something new he's learned like it's just another trip to the Restricted Section.
"Well, as you may have noticed, our dear friend Ominis is not exactly thrilled about our choice of career," Sebastian starts, and you can't help the small smile that curls across your lips as a litany of passive aggressive comments about how he'd better not see the two of you anywhere near the Janus Thickey Ward when he starts his residency in June, comes flooding into your memory. Sebastian clocks your smile and his lips twitch into one of his own.
"Keeps lamenting about how he wishes we'd choose something less dangerous," he adds, rolling his eyes in a show of fond amusement. "But that if we absolutely must, then he'd rather we go in fully prepared for what's out there. I'd assumed he was just going to help us practice a few defensive spells, offer to teach us some of the healing charms he's been learning shadowing Nurse Blainey. Imagine my surprise when Ominis Gaunt, self-proclaimed opposer of anything to do with the Dark Arts, offers to teach me the ins and outs of the Imperius Curse."
That certainly does surprise you, helping to put whatever remains of your unsettled nerves at ease. You know Ominis would never agree, let alone be the one to suggest practicing dark magic unless he truly felt it would be beneficial, unless he truly believed Sebastian could be trusted with such a thing.
"We've been practicing nearly every night in the Undercroft for the past several weeks," Sebastian goes on to explain. "I'd have told you sooner, but I didn't want to risk subjecting you to such a spell until I'd grown comfortable using it myself, fighting against its effects. Now that I have…would you like to see how it's done?"
A frisson runs down your spine, and you're not entirely sure whether it's thrill, fear, or some strange combination of the two. You swallow, only trusting yourself to nod.
"Alright then, draw your wand," he instructs, taking a few tentative steps closer until he's standing right behind you, gentle hands wrapping around the wrist of your dominant hand and bringing it into the air alongside his own.
"We'll begin with the wand movements so you can establish muscle memory," he says, warm breath ghosting across the back of your neck as he speaks in a low, soothing voice, sending shivers that have nothing to do with the forbidden magic you're about to perform racing down the length of your spine.
Together, you aim for the opposite wall, following his directions as he speaks them aloud. Arc up…left…up at a sharp diagonal to the right…and then straight back down in a figure four.
After you've completed your first circuit, Sebastian takes a step back and allows you to practice a few more times on your own, making sure you've got the movements just right.
"Good," he says, sounding impressed, but not altogether surprised. "Perfect form, in fact."
You can't help the automatic smile that curves across your lips at his praise.
"Now to put it into practice," he prompts, drawing his own wand from the inside pocket of his cloak and turning round to face you.
"Do you trust me?" he asks softly, fixing you with a serious, almost pleading look, like if you answer no it's as good as casting Crucio.
"You know I do," you answer automatically. Because even though you're still a little nervous at the prospect of delving into darker forms of magic, there's no one you'd rather learn it from.
Sebastian's eyes crinkle in a grateful smile, before quickly shifting back to something more serious.
"Alright then," he says, taking a deep, steadying breath. "Prepare yourself, I'm going to cast it on you."
"I'm ready," you tell him, standing with your spine a little straighter, wand at your side.
"Imperio," he intones, wand flicking through the air in the pattern he'd just taught you.
The effect is instantaneous, a serene sort of blankness settling over your mind like you're floating through the clouds, a comfortable warmth akin to dozing off in front of the fireplace spreading throughout your entire body. Then, clear as a bell, you hear Sebastian's voice ring out inside your head, instructing you to walk over to your desk and bring him back an apple from the bowl set atop. Without even questioning it, you do so, legs moving of their own accord.
"Finite," he says as you come to a sudden stop in front of him, a bright red honeycrisp apple held out in offering in the palm of your hand. The floating high disappears instantly, leaving you feeling out of sorts, a little dazed as you stare down at the apple, almost as if you'd dreamed you'd gone to fetch it.
"How are you feeling? Are you alright?" he asks, checking you over like he's the one preparing for a Healer's career. "It can be a little overwhelming when you first experience it. Part of why I asked you to bring that," he adds, pointing down at the apple. "The sugars will help you recover."
Sebastian's always had a bit of a sweet tooth, but the sudden uptick in the sheer amount of sugar quills you'd seen stuck between his teeth as of late suddenly makes a lot more sense. Slowly, as though testing the bounds of being back in control of your own limbs, you lift the apple to your lips and take a small bite, mulling over his question.
"It was…strange," you decide, aware that's the biggest understatement of the century. "I know I should've been scared, but instead I felt oddly serene."
"That's what it does to you," Sebastian nods solemnly. "Lulls you into a false sense of security. Tricks your mind into complacency, like you're merely a vessel and someone else is steering the ship."
"I can see how it earned the name unforgivable," you agree with a grimace. "I reckon the only reason I'm not nearly as unnerved as I should be right now is because I knew you were the one casting it."
"That's exactly why I wanted to be the one to teach you," he says with renewed conviction. "In order to learn how to defend ourselves against it, it's important to practice with someone we trust."
"Which is why," he adds with a wry chuckle. "You're going to be the one casting it on me next."
Your lips part in surprise. Even though you knew it was coming, it still catches you off guard.
"Are— are you sure?" you ask warily.
"Course I am," he reassures you with a confident grin. "As I said, it's important to know what it feels like from both sides, understand the kind of power you wield."
You stare at him for a moment, mulling it over, and then give him a curt nod, taking a few steps back to allow enough room for a safe cast.
"Remember, you have to mean it," he reminds you, stowing his wand in his pocket and standing in front of you with his arms behind his back. "Concentrate. Think the command very clearly in your mind."
You take a deep breath as you square your shoulders, assume your stance, and raise your wand.
"Alright, I'm going to cast it," you tell him, giving him the same warning he'd granted you.
"I'm ready," he assures you in an echo of your words.
"Imperio," you say aloud, and a warm weight like you've just been handed the reigns to the carriage of Helios himself settles into your dominant hand. The effect on your intended target is immediate, spine straightening as he stands to attention, an eerie green glow flickering to life in the heart of his warm brown eyes.
You nearly lose your nerve when you see it, an overwhelming, all-consuming realization that you're completely in control of another human being settling into the pit of your stomach like lead, terrified that one wrong move could potentially hurt your dearest friend. But then you remind yourself that he's the one who asked you to cast it on him, that you're learning this spell for a reason, and so you close your eyes and clear your mind, focusing on the task at hand.
Walk over to the desk and bring back one of Highwing's feathers, and then place it behind my ear, your own voice rings out inside your head, clear as crystal. You open your eyes in time to see Sebastian already on the move, watching with a kind of macabre fascination as he does exactly as you'd commanded.
"Finite," you say the moment you feel the quill gently slide into place behind your left ear — though at first you wonder whether you've done it right, when Sebastian doesn't immediately withdraw his hand, instead letting it linger to brush back a lock of hair and tuck it behind your ear to join the bright white feather. You're saved from worry when he clears his throat a moment later, the bridge of his nose dusted in a curious shade of pink.
"A perfect first cast," he tells you, and although you don't necessarily want to be proud that you'd gotten such a dark spell right on your very first try, you can't help but preen a little at his praise.
"Now, I want you to try it again, but this time, let's focus on recitation," he says, backing up a few paces and resuming his stance from before. "Think the words very clearly inside your mind and watch as they come spilling out of my mouth as though we were a living ventriloquist act," he quips, lips curling up in a wry smile.
Used to his rather dark sense of humor in light of things he should probably take a bit more seriously, you merely smirk and roll your eyes.
After another steadying breath, you lift your wand and cast it again, beginning with a simple, "Hi, my name is Sebastian Sallow, and I'm a seventh year Slytherin at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," watching in equal parts wonder and horror as he repeats every word you'd just been thinking in perfect recitation.
That's what an utterly ridiculous idea comes to you, and, curious to test the bounds of the enchantment beyond mere facts and figures, you instruct him to say something you know he never would of his own accord.
"Hello, I'm Sebastian Mallowsweet, and cockroach clusters are my favorite treat in all the world! I can't wait to buy a whole barrel from Honeydukes the next time I'm in Hogsmeade," Sebastian repeats in a bright, cheerful voice that makes you giggle so hard you nearly slip up and lose your hold on the spell, but not before you get him to add in a hearty, "Perhaps I'll share some with my best mate, Duncan Hobhouse, the bravest man I've ever known."
"Finite," you manage between poorly-stifled bouts of laughter.
"Oh, that's just cruel," Sebastian chides you with a playful scowl, shaking himself out of the enchantment.
"I'm not sure what's worse, the image of a whole barrel of cockroach clusters, or the idea of voluntarily spending time with Puffskein Dunkein," he adds with a sharper shudder toward the latter. "Rest assured I'll get you back for that heinous slander."
At this point you're a lost cause, laughing so hard it's like you've downed a dozen shots of giggle water, shoulders shaking as you struggle to regain composure. Try as he might, Sebastian can't even pretend to be cross with you, lips quirking up at the corners in a fond smile.
"It's a power feeling, isn't it?" he asks softly, giving you an appraising look, curious to see how you'll answer.
"Is it bad that I sort of enjoyed it?" you ask, wincing as though you've just admitted something wicked.
Sebastian studies you for a moment, choosing his next words very carefully.
"There's nothing wrong with the thrill that comes with learning a bit of forbidden magic," he says thoughtfully. "As long as you're responsible about how you use it."
"Some people learn that lesson through trial and error," he continues, lips twisting into a self-effacing frown. "And to some, it just comes naturally. Given that I am speaking to the person who had the chance to take one of the most powerful sources of magic known to wizardkind and keep it all to herself, but chose not to…I think it's safe to say you've more than proven yourself."
Your lips pull up in a small, grateful smile.
"And let's not forget one very important caveat: I gave you full permission to cast it on me and make me say whatever you wanted," he reminds you. "So let me ask you this: would you ever cast it on me without my consent?"
"Of course not!" you answer without hesitation, scandalized by the very thought.
"There you go," he says with a reassuring smile. "So, no, you're not a bad person for enjoying that little moment of power, because in the end, all you did was make a friend say something silly."
"But the kinds of people who usually wield this type of spell…well, let's just say their intentions aren't quite so whimsical," he says, grounding you back in a sharper reality, the chilling warning like a gust of wind through lantern light, reminding just how dark and twisted the path through the woods can be.
"Which is precisely why you're learning it," he says with bright conviction. "So you can understand the dangers of it, learn how to fight against it."
"Now, with your permission, I'm going to cast it again, and this time, I want you to try to break it, alright? Concentrate on channeling your own wants and needs, making your own voice louder than the one giving the commands."
You give him a firm nod of affirmation, wand held steady at your side.
"Ready?" he asks.
"Ready," you reply.
Sebastian raises his wand.
You brace yourself for it this time, try to shake yourself out of the fog the moment it hits. Just before you slip under, you see Sebastian's lips curl upward in a mischievous smirk, dark eyes glinting with mirth. It doesn't take long for you to figure out why, when, true to his promise to get you back for your little cockroach clusters prank, the words, "Sebastian Sallow is the best in our year — a dueling champion, clever as Merlin, graceful as a phoenix on the wind," come tumbling out of your mouth without your approval.
You concentrate all your effort on trying to break his hold on you, your own voice snorting with laughter inside your head as you recall that first day in Defence Against The Dark Arts when you'd knocked that cocky little smirk clean off his face with a single blow. Dueling champion, my arse.
That little burst of your own laughter grounds you, gives you clarity, strengthens your resolve to push back against the commanding voice inside your head, until you feel the curse's hold on you start to weaken, little by little, like the steady tick tick tick of an unlocking charm, before all the right tumblers and springs click into place.
Spell broken, you decide that the best way to get Sebastian back is to take his own ostentatious accolades a step further, hand over your heart as you pretend to swoon, sighing, "Devilishly charming, too. I would gladly spend hours charting constellations in the freckles that adorn his handsome face."
"With my lips," you add with a salacious wink to really drive it home, delighting in the way his whole face goes up in flames, burning brighter than a Confringo blast.
(The fact that it's all true is irrelevant. The point of the thing is to tease him, and judging by the stupefied look on his face, you've succeeded.)
"I—" Sebastian falters, embarrassingly breathless. "Hang on, I didn't tell you to say any of that!"
"That's right!" you exclaim, doubled over laughing for the second time in as many minutes. "I'd already broken your hold on me, that was me having a lark," you tell him, beaming with pride.
Sebastian looks relieved and disappointed all at once.
"That's…that's amazing," he manages. "Broke free from the enchantment on your very first try. You really are something special, you know that?"
You sweep into a low, theatrical bow like a performer on a stage, lips curving up in a smile when he snorts with laughter.
"Alright now, don't get cocky," he chides with a playful roll of his eyes. "While that was excellent for a first try, I still managed to get in a few commands before you broke the enchantment. So, we're going to keep practicing until you're able to completely throw it off from the get-go, alright?"
"Yes, professor," you tease him, stifling one last bout of giggles as he levels you with an admonishing arch of his eyebrow, though the fond upturn of his lips gives him away.
"Cheeky," he chuckles, shaking his head.
You can't help but stick your tongue out at him, further proving his point.
"Now, as you'll have no doubt noticed, fighting off verbal vs. physical commands requires different levels of concentration and technique," he continues, assuming a professorial stance in spite of (or perhaps, unconsciously, because of) your playful commentary. "One is merely a matter of holding your tongue, but it's a different game entirely having to fight for control over the entire rest of your body."
"With that said, I'm going to cast it again," he warns, wand at the ready. "And this time, I want you to practice fighting against a physical command."
"Ready?" he asks, checking in one last time.
"Ready," you nod, back straight as you prepare for the incantation.
"Imperio," he says, and in an instant, that same serene blankness creeps in, only this time, it's like you can make out distinct shapes in the fog, growing clearer and clearer the harder you focus, the more you ground yourself, holding fast to your own thoughts, your own feelings, your own desires.
His task is simple — button his cloak and straighten his tie.
You feel your feet start to move toward him, hands raising to complete the command, when—
No, your own voice rings out, loud and clear. I don't want to do that.
Your hands settle over the front of his cloak, pausing as they inch closer to the open clasp.
Button my cloak and straighten my tie, Sebastian's voice calls out again, more insistent this time. But the voice that answers — your voice — is so much louder and stronger.
No, you stand your ground, snapping back with a triumphant laugh. No, I really don't think I will.
In fact, that's the last thing I want to do right now, you muse, lips curving upward in a cheeky grin.
A heady rush of defiance and determination surges through your veins, lighting up all your nerve endings like a live wire, and in your eagerness to rebel against the enchantment, you end up doing the complete opposite of Sebastian's request, hands sliding under the fabric of his cloak and slipping it off of his shoulders in one swift, fluid sweep, silk-lined wool pooling at his feet as you dive straight for his necktie, making a fine mess of the striped emerald and silver satin in your eager attempts to loosen it, fingers curling around smooth silk and giving it a gentle tug to urge him closer, unraveling until it's completely come undone, spilling into the hood of his cloak.
You can't help but notice how pretty and pale his throat looks beneath it, adam's apple straining with each swallow, caught on the edge of a soft, stuttered groan as you slide your hands up the length of his chest, fingertips dancing across the back of his neck and threading through the soft chestnut curls at his nape. Your eyes follow the movement with a needy, yearning kind of hunger, consumed by the thought of how much prettier it would look littered with pink and purple bruises in the shape of your lips.
A sharp intake of breath sends your senses into overdrive, head swimming in an intoxicating blend of spearmint and strawberry sugar quills lingering on the edge of his lips and the tip of his tongue, and suddenly all you can focus on is how badly you want to taste it. The words kiss me ring out inside your head, desperate and longing, and for a moment, you can't tell whether it's his voice or your own imagination, caught up in a fantasy you've been playing out inside your head for the past two and a half years.
Whatever remains of the enchantment's hold on you is immediately withdrawn, sobriety washing back over you like a sudden plunge into a freezing lake, stumbling forward as Sebastian takes a few cautionary steps back. Instinctively, he reaches out to steady you, gentle hands prying yours from around the collar of his button-up shirt. He holds them there between the two of you for a moment, and then slowly glances down, letting out a small gasp when he realizes he's touching you, and immediately pulls away like he's just been burned.
He looks at you like he's afraid of you, eyes wide with panic and shame, a fiery red heat blossoming in the hollows of his cheeks.
For a moment, you're terrified you've crossed some sort of line, turned his stomach with the regret of having to eat his own words, all that lavish praise he'd bestowed upon you, all those gallant notions of a natural proclivity for responsibility, moral compass thrown off course by the magnet that always seems to pull you toward him.
Your mind reels as you struggle to process what just happened, one little moment changing the course of everything in the space of a few seconds. It all happened so fast — one minute you were fighting against the enchantment, and the next, your hands were in his hair, all sense lost to everything but how soft it felt beneath your fingertips, swept up in the way those warm brown eyes fixed on yours like he burned for you, sunlit warmth and dulcet sugar ghosting across your lips with each breath, and suddenly all you could think about was how desperately you wanted to kiss him, so focused on channeling your own thoughts and feelings into a shield to defend yourself against the curse, you unwittingly summoned everything you've ever wanted to the surface, all those long-held desires you've tried so hard to keep buried, unearthed.
You open your mouth to apologize for getting carried away, scrambling to come up with a reasonable explanation that doesn't involve spilling your deepest secrets, pouring your heart out to the man who's held it captive for years, hoping like hell the connection severed before he heard those stupid little words ring out inside your head, that you haven't completely ruined your friendship — but before you get the chance, he's the one who starts talking, a litany of apologies falling from his lips at a dizzying speed, promising you that he would never, ever use Imperio to make you kiss him of all things, begging you to trust him.
You blink in surprise. What's he on about? Of course you trust him. That was never in question. He's mischievous, certainly, a silver-tongued charmer when he wants to get his way, but you know he would never do anything as villainous as use potions or spells to try to get someone to…to…
Oh.
So you hadn't imagined it, then.
His thoughts. His words. His voice. Wrapped so sweetly around those two little words.
Kiss me.
Not a command, but a subconscious desire, just like yours.
Sebastian wanted you to kiss him.
A mad, blissful smile spreads across your face, heart pounding in your throat as it threatens to leap right out of your chest. Your lips part, willing the right words to come, to assure him it's more than alright, but his anxious steamrolling doesn't give you the chance.
"I'm sorry," Sebastian cries, agonized. "I'm so sorry. You have to believe me, I would never take advantage of you like that. I swear to you it wasn't intentional, I just got carried away in the moment and it sort of slipped out. Beautiful girl tugging at my clothes like that, soft hands running through my hair, the way your eyes sort of burned when you looked at me, I—"
His expression softens to something you'd dare call smitten, lips curving upward in a big, goofy grin as he plays it back, and then quickly shakes his head, admonishing himself.
"Merlin, there I go again," he sighs, wincing in embarrassment as he chances a glance at you, an earnest longing burning in his eyes that makes your heart ache with the need to reach out and touch him. "I've tried so hard for so long to keep my feelings in check, because I know you don't feel the same way, and the last thing I want to do is jeopardize our friendship, so I—"
You're certain the end of that sentence would've been lovely and heartfelt, but you'll never know for sure, the rest of his words swallowed in a soft, surprised oh as you rush forward, closing the distance between you and pressing your lips against his. It's soft and small and tentative, hands gently cradling the sides of his face to keep you both steady, but when you pull back a moment later, Sebastian looks at you like he's just been Confunded, his face an adorable blend between shocked and hopeful, sun-kissed freckles spilling into the curves of his dimples as his lips curve into a bright, blissful smile.
And then, just as quickly as it had appeared, it's gone, replaced by apprehension and disbelief.
"Wait," Sebastian falters, holding you back at arm's length and looking you over with the same care and consideration he'd shown the first time he cast the curse on you, concern etched into his narrowed eyebrows. "Are you still under my spell?"
You can't help the smirk that curls across your lips at his choice of wording.
"In a manner of speaking," you reply, sly smile turning soft as you reassure him, "but not in the way you're thinking."
Sebastian blinks at you, confused.
"Then why would you…do that?" he asks, like he genuinely can't believe you'd kiss him of your own accord.
"Because I wanted to," you tell him, and the weight of it makes you laugh like you're about to cry. "I've wanted to kiss you for so long, Sebastian, you have no idea."
Sebastian's breath comes out in a sharp burst, redolent of that same euphoric laughter bubbling up inside your chest.
"How long?" he asks.
"Since you took the fall for me that night we got caught sneaking into the Restricted Section," you tell him, smiling fondly at the memory.
"The first time, that is," you add with a wry chuckle.
Sebastian lets out a disbelieving laugh, raking a hand through his hair and grinning at you like he would gladly go back and do it all over again.
"And you?" you ask tentatively, hardly daring to believe this is actually happening.
Sebastian's lips pull up into a playful smile.
"About five seconds after you knocked me on my arse during our first duel."
Now it's your turn to let out a surprised laugh. All that time you spent thinking your feelings were one-sided, and he's the one who fell first.
"It took you five whole seconds?" you tease, slipping easily back into your usual banter, reveling in the fact that you can freely flirt with him now.
Sebastian snorts with laughter.
"Yes, well…if you'll recall, I was rather stupid back then," he heaves a dramatic sigh. "After all, it took me two and half years to finally work up the nerve to kiss you."
"I'm the one who kissed you," you remind him, quirking an amused eyebrow at him.
"Ah, still besting me, I see," he chuckles, warm breath ghosting across your lips as he takes a step closer.
"Oh, but I wonder…do I still have the power to knock you on your arse?" you tease in a soft, low murmur.
His eyes do a slow, deliberate sweep down to your lips, tongue darting out to lick his own in anticipation, before slowly trailing back up to meet your eyes.
"Every time you smile at me," he replies with a cheeky smirk.
"You charming bastard," you chide him, laughter swallowed up in another kiss as he leans forward to press his lips against yours.
"Mmm, that reminds me," Sebastian murmurs in between stolen kisses, smiling against your lips as you let out a needy whimper, already addicted to the way he tastes.
"So, earlier…when you called me devilishly charming and told me you wanted to — what was it — chart constellations in the freckles that adorn my handsome face…you really meant that?" he teases, positively beaming.
The look on his face is so smug, you're torn between wanting to knock him on his arse again, and wanting to kiss the stupid smirk right off his stupid, handsome face. (Though you already know which one is going to win out.)
"Oh, fuck off," you laugh. "Yes, I think you're handsome and charming—"
"Devilishly so."
"Yes, yes, you absolute menace. I think we've well and truly established that I like you," you wave him off, rolling your eyes in fond amusement. "Now, shut up and kiss me."
Sebastian chuckles under his breath and starts to lean forward, stopping just short of your lips, making you let out another impatient whine.
"Just one more thing," he says, remnants of mint and sugar ghosting across your lips as he leans in close, voice dropping to a low, prowling murmur. "You are, without a doubt, the most breathtakingly beautiful person on the face of this earth, and I consider it a goddamn tragedy worse than the falling out of the founders that I've gone this long without the pleasure of reminding you every single day from the moment we met."
For a moment, all you can do is stare at him, spellbound by his words, heart aching to leap right out of your throat and build a home inside his chest right next to his own, and then you're rushing forward, closing that hairsbreadth distance that might as well be the space between two mountains, crashing your lips against his and kissing him senseless.
Your hands are everywhere, tugging at his shirt, threading through his hair, pulling him as close as possible. So lost in the intoxicating touch and taste of him that you don't realize you've been steadily moving backwards until your backside collides with the sharp corner of your desk. You let out a startled gasp that quickly turns to laughter, head lolling against Sebastian's shoulder as your own shake with self-effacing mirth.
"Are you alright?" he asks, concern akin to a battle with an ashwinder and not a piece of inanimate furniture. You manage a small nod through your laughter.
"Damn desk, bruising my girl," Sebastian scowls, the words my girl sending a thrill like a bolt of lightning right through you.
You let out a surprised giggle as he picks you up and gently places you on top of the desk, settling between your thighs.
"The only kind of marks you should ever have on you are the ones from my lips," he whispers in between soft, slow, teasing kisses up the length of your neck, sucking a bruise against your pulse point that has you curling your fingers through his hair and moaning his name.
"Always hoped I'd hear you say my name like that," he murmurs in a deep, rumbling growl you can feel thrumming between your ribs like thunder.
Eager to return the favor, you thread your fingers through his hair and give him a gentle yet insistent tug, delighting in the way it elicits a rough, guttural moan in the back of his throat, pulse point jumping beneath your touch as you run your tongue along the curve of his adam's apple.
You're fairly certain one of the buttons goes rolling off under the desk as you tear open his shirt and splay your hands across his chest, pleased to find a whole new canvas of well-earned muscle teeming with sun-kissed freckled dotted between soft patches of chestnut hair, uncharted territory just begging to be mapped out with your lips.
By contrast, Sebastian is equal parts gentle and nervous. Clumsy, trembling fingers work the buttons of your blouse and the lacings of your bra until you're completely bare before him, the flowing fabric of your sleeves hanging loosely off your shoulders. For several long moments, all he can seem to do is stare at you like you're a miracle made real, licking his lips in anticipation as his eyes rake across your breasts.
Sebastian's gaze flickers up to yours, a silent plea. You let out a soft breath, nodding eagerly. In the next second, he's pressed in close again, warm hands skimming up the length of your torso before gently settling under the swell of your breasts, holding you like you're a precious artefact, pleasure sparking low in your core as hard-earned callouses graze across your nipples with a perfect texture.
Sebastian lets out a soft hum as he feels them pebble against the palm of his hand, eyebrows arching in a kind of curious fascination as he glances down at his own hands like he's just performed a spectacular bit of magic. Freckled cheeks curve into an eager smile as he ducks his head down, pressing a series of tentative, exploring kisses from the soft slope of your breasts down to the pale peaks of your nipples, taking one of them into his mouth and applying the gentlest bit of suction as he swipes his tongue across the sensitive bud, grinning in triumph as you let out a lurid moan and arch into his touch.
He pockets that bit of very useful information for later as he slowly makes his way back up toward your lips, eager to kiss you again, peppering fevered kisses across your collarbones and up the length of your neck, not wanting to miss a single inch of skin. Within seconds, he's captured your lips in a searing kiss, one hand tangled in your hair, the other gently cradling your cheek as he kisses you breathless, groaning into your mouth as you pull him flush against you, soft breasts pressed against the hard plane of his chest, heathered skirt hiked up around your hips as he cages you in.
Sebastian's rapidly growing hardness is an insistent pressure between your thighs, sparking your own arousal in a pleasant ache that pulses through your core with each touch. In an effort to get even closer to you, Sebastian shifts, and the head of his cock inadvertently grinds between the gusset of your underwear, sending shock waves of pleasure that have you gasping into his mouth, white-knuckling the sleeves of his shirt.
You can't take it anymore. It's too much and not nearly enough all at once. You need more of him. You need all of him.
"Sebastian," you sigh, breathless between kisses. "Do you— do you have protection?"
"Protection?" Sebastian pulls back to look at you, eyebrows arched in a look of adorable confusion.
"From what? I doubt anything will attack us while we're in—" he stutters as the tip of your finger curls into the waistband of his trousers and gives a suggestive tug forward.
"Oh," Sebastian's eyebrows jump in surprise.
"Unless you don't want—" you immediately pull back, feeling foolish.
"Oh, I want," he insists, drawing you back toward him, voice rough and pleading with exactly how much he wants. "I was just caught off guard. I wasn't expecting—"
Sebastian falters, nerves ramping up again.
"You have to know, when I asked you to come out with me tonight, I wasn't expecting any of this."
"I know you weren't," you reassure him with soft, gentle strokes through his hair. "I trust you, remember?"
Sebastian nods, breathing out on a sigh of relief.
"But, yeah…if you're asking me to be honest…stick a pin in trying to be a gentleman," he lets out a sheepish laugh, one of his hands coming up to attack a phantom itch on the back of his neck. "Then the answer is a resounding, embarrassingly keen yes. I very much want to."
"I do too," you admit with a shy giggle, fingers curling under the collar of his shirt to draw him in for another, softer kiss.
The moment the words leave your mouth, two small crystal phials appear next to you on the desk, labeled in pristine print across each side: infecunditatem temporalis, XXIV h. — temporary infertility, lasting twenty-four hours.
The two of you stare down at them for a moment, blinking in surprise, and then slowly pick them up.
"Well, that's handy," Sebastian remarks with a breathless laugh. "This room really does think of everything."
"Cheers," you murmur softly, instinctually linking arms the same way you've always done for every shot of Firewhisky and post-match Butterbeer toast, before downing your respective phials in one swig.
You set them back down on top of the desk and glance up at one another, suddenly nervous.
"I've never done this before…have you?" you ask, not entirely sure you want to know the answer. You've always been exceptionally close, but you doubt he's told you everything.
"Ah well, you know me…" Sebastian starts with a cocky upturn of his lips, and then immediately deflates, letting out a long, slow, defeated sigh. He knows he'd never be able to lie to you, but a part of him momentarily considers whether he should, irrational fear mingling with a deep-seated insecurity that you'll be put off when you find out he has no idea what he's doing. He's researched, of course. Extensively. But it's not like he's ever put it into practice.
"No," he sighs, admitting it like it's some kind of flaw. "Most I've ever done is kiss someone…and that was back in fourth year…on a dare."
He doesn't miss the way your shoulders relax, relief in the form of a small smile curling across your lips, and suddenly he's very glad he never did anything for the sake of just getting it over with, rebounding his hopeless feelings with some faceless stranger wishing it was you, giddy with a heady mix of nerves and excitement that he'll get to be your first.
And if he's very, very lucky, your only.
"And since?" you nudge, keen to hear him say it.
Sebastian's lips quirk up in a playful grin.
"There's only one person I've wanted to kiss since then," he says, leaning forward to capture your lips in a slow, deep kiss.
"Only one person I've imagined lain on their back as I fall to my knees and bury my lips between their thighs," Sebastian confesses in a low, hungry growl, punctuating each word with a searing kiss as he slowly works his way down the length of your body, mouthing at your neck, between your breasts, across the ticklish plane of your stomach, until he's on his knees in front of you, gazing up at you like you're a brand new constellation in a starless night sky.
"You've no idea how badly I've been longing for a view like this," he says with an appreciative groan, kissing a hungry trail up your inner thighs. "Makes the view from the top of the Astronomy Tower look rather dull by comparison."
You can't help the blissful laugh that escapes you, legs trembling beneath his eager lips. Sebastian pauses his ministrations to look up at you, eyebrows arching in lighthearted indignation.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I say something funny?" he admonishes, nipping playfully at your inner thigh and making you let out a sharp peal of laughter.
"No, it's just…oh, please don't take this the wrong way, but I'm just…pleasantly surprised, is all," you giggle.
"Whatever for?" he asks, rising back up to meet you. You throw your arms around his shoulders and pull him close, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose.
"You hear stories…about men who absolutely refuse to do that sort of thing, yet seem to expect it from their partners," you explain, thinking back to all those hushed conversations you'd overheard in the girls' lavatories, whispered in the dark before bedtime. "I suppose a part of me has always wondered whether you'd be the same. More of a taker than a giver in the bedroom."
Sebastian leans back to look at you, lips pulling into a frown.
"On the one hand, I'm insulted you think I'd do anything short of worship you," he says, diving back in to press a series of hungry kisses up the length of your neck that have you shaking in anticipation of such a promise.
"But on the other," he counters, pulling back to fix you with a teasing smirk. "It's nice to know you've spent a great deal of time thinking about what I'd be like in the bedroom."
A carmine blush creeps across your cheeks as you remember all the times you'd done far more than just think about him, careful to draw your curtains and cast a silencing charm so no one would hear you when you called out his name.
If only he knew…
…come morning, you'll make certain he does.
"Speaking of which—" Sebastian prompts, eyes darting around the room with an appraising frown, before landing on the desktop underneath you, broken quills and crumpled sheets of parchment hastily shoved aside to make room for your — ahem, more amorous ventures.
"This room might be fine for study and spellwork, but it's not the most romantic of places. I can fix that," he says, giving you a wry smile as he offers you his hand and helps you down from the desk.
"Just close my eyes and picture what I want, yeah?" he asks, looking to you for reassurance. You nod in encouragement, slipping your fingers between his and giving the palm of his hand an affectionate squeeze.
Sebastian closes his eyes and concentrates, summoning two and a half years' worth of fantasies to the forefront of his mind. A moment later, there's a soft grind of stone, and the two of you glance up in time to see a marble statue of an owl that's always sat in the alcove between the grasslands and the coastal vivarium twisting into an invisible recess in the floor, revealing a brand new corridor in its wake.
You let out a startled laugh as Sebastian scoops you up into his arms and carries you down the corridor, lulled by the excited thrum of his heartbeat as you bury your face into his chest and wrap your arms around his neck. In just a few short strides, you arrive at the end of the hallway, where a handsome set of oak doors adorned with elegant swirling filigree in blossoming flowers and twisting vines, crescent moons and little stars, springs to life like fast-growing ivy.
You reach out to turn the handle, and for a moment, you're plunged into total darkness, the room beyond an unfinished painting, transforming before your very eyes the moment the two of you step inside, polished floorboards rippling into place like piano keys playing an arpeggio, walls and ceiling a patchwork puzzle as they slowly piece themselves together.
Brushstrokes in deep ocean blues and dark verdant greens turn the heart of the Forbidden Forest under a midnight sky into a painter's palette, dozens of paper lanterns lit by softly flickering candlelight floating all around you like fireflies, bathing the room in hazy hues of silver and gold as they mingle with the light of the crescent moon trickling down from up above, ceiling enchanted to look as though it opens out onto the heavens, night sky glittering with thousands of shooting stars.
A trail of your favorite flower petals leads to a cozy alcove bed cradled between two recessed bookshelves brimming with pristine leather-bounds the two of you will no doubt spend hours perusing at leisure, gossamer curtains woven with intricate stars and crescent moons spilling down across the silken sheets.
The gentle cadence of rainfall taps its fingertips against the glass of an ornate three-paned window set just above the bed, painted in a perfect replica of the sprawling landscapes from the hidden corridor he'd shown you earlier in the night, while a crackling fireplace dances merrily in the heart of a cozy reading nook complete with two plush armchairs tucked together side by side.
Sebastian lets out a contented hum as the last little details of the room settle into place, glancing down to gauge your reaction, eager to know what you think.
"Oh, Sebastian," you whisper as you gaze around the room, candlelight dancing like flecks of gold in your eyes. "It's beautiful."
Sebastian beams. Of all the times you managed to leave him utterly spellbound tonight, it's a point of pride to finally be able to elicit the same response from you.
"Trust I've been dreaming of the perfect place to be romantic with you for quite some time," he murmurs, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against your cheek.
You gaze up at him adoringly and lean up to kiss him, butterflies taking flight in your stomach when you feel the hard press of his uncontainable smile against your lips.
"Now, where were we?" he whispers, whisking you away to the cozy alcove bed at the heart of the room and gently setting you down at its edge between the star-strewn curtains.
As though he can't stand to be parted from you for a second longer, Sebastian sweeps forward to capture your lips in another breath-stealing kiss, gentle hands sliding across the curve of your jaw to thread through the hair at the back of your neck, cradling the back of your head as he kisses you slowly, deeply, savoring every second.
He takes his time peeling off the layers of your clothing, unwrapping you like a gift, hands sliding between bare skin and soft cotton until your blouse comes spilling off your shoulders to pool around your waist, eager lips following its trajectory as he presses a series of adoring kisses down the column of your throat, tongue darting out to smooth across the tender, claiming bruise he'd left on your pulse point, smirking at the way it jumps beneath his touch, gently palming at your breasts as he makes his slow descent.
Where before he'd allowed himself a small taste, this time Sebastian indulges, falling to his knees and burying his face between your breasts, pressing lavish kisses in time to the beat of your heart, before taking the nipple he hadn't had the pleasure of tasting earlier into his mouth and applying a gentle suction, delighting in the way it elicits the same sinful response from you as it did before.
Not wanting to neglect either of them, Sebastian tries to mimic the same technique on the one not currently occupied by his mouth with his fingers, gently kneading the pebbled peak between his thumb and index finger. Clearly it's the right move, because the moment he does both in tandem, you let out a sharp gasp, arching your back in an effort to get even closer to him, fingers curling around the sleeves of his shirt and gripping tight.
Sebastian chuckles, a low rumbling laugh that vibrates like a crackle of thunder inside your chest as he worships every delectable detail of your breasts, until a series of pink and purple bruises in the shape of his lips starts to blossom across your skin. The sight of it stirs something primal inside him, little reminders lasting well beyond tonight that let everyone know you're his.
Sebastian would gladly spend the rest of his days buried between your breasts, but the curious, insatiable, thrill-seeking side of him is eager to keep exploring, map out every inch of your body with his hands, lips, and tongue until he's memorized every single way you love to be touched, keen to know what other addictive sounds he can get you to make.
He presses a trail of kisses down your torso, smiling when you giggle and squirm beneath him as his lips tickle the curves of your stomach, pausing when he reaches the waistline of your skirt.
"Lay back, darling. Let me take care of you," he insists in a low whisper, sending heat like an inferno straight to your core. You do as he asks, hair fanning out across the sheets, a cool press of silk against your fevered skin.
Deft fingers carefully work the buttons at your waist, unraveling your wrap-around skirt until it's laid out flat beneath you. Hands shaking from a mess of excitement and nerves, Sebastian carefully hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your knickers and slowly slides them down your legs, breath hitching when you tilt your hips to help ease them off, giving him a glimpse of your backside.
"Fuck, you're stunning," he says with a wrecked, desperate groan that has you blushing like you've just downed a shot of Firewhisky, laid bare beneath his hungry gaze as he takes a moment to drink you in.
"Can I touch you?" he asks in a quiet, almost pleading voice.
"Please," you tell him, just as desperate.
Nervous, gentle hands slide up along the outside of your thighs, smoothing over the curves of your hips before settling in the space between, breathing out on a soft, stuttered gasp as his fingers thread through the soft patch of curls at the apex of your thighs.
He skims a finger featherlight along the seam of your lips, testing the waters before delving deeper, a low groan rumbling in the back of his throat when he feels how wet you already are for him. Heat pools low in your belly as he slides between your folds in an achingly slow tease, sending shivers like shock waves rolling down the length of your spine, working you into a frenzy as careful, calloused fingers graze your clit.
Once he's satisfied you're ready to take him, fingers coated in your slick, Sebastian slips down to rub teasing circles against your entrance, driving you to the point of madness, canting your hips with soft little whines, until finally, he relents, slowly sliding his ring and middle fingers inside you and curling them in a come hither motion that has you gasping and writhing above him.
"Is this— is this alright?" he asks, concern bleeding through breathless exhilaration.
"It feels amazing, Seb," you manage, yours words barely more than a stuttered moan as his fingers twitch inside you. "Please don't stop touching me."
Your soft gasps and moans guide him to where he needs to go, thumb rubbing heady circles against your clit as his fingers curl in that blissful breath-stuttering way inside you. He works you into a maddening frenzy, pressure slowly building like an arrow being drawn across a bowstring, and Sebastian can't help but let out a low groan each time you flutter and tighten around him. If this is how incredible you feel against his fingers, he can't even imagine how amazing you're going to feel around his cock. Though that particular pleasure will have to wait just a little bit longer, because Sebastian isn't anywhere near finished with you yet.
You let out a needy whine as that delicious pressure suddenly disappears, only to be replaced by a sharp burst of breathless laughter as Sebastian grabs a handful of your backside and hauls you closer to the edge of the bed, coaxing your legs over his shoulders as he buries his face between your thighs.
"Forgive me, darling, but I need to taste you," he groans, tongue darting out to delve between your folds.
"Sebastian," you cry out as a burst of pleasure sparks through you, hands fisting in the sheets. Sebastian lets out another loud moan as you call out his name, tongue gliding down to lick at your entrance, burying himself deep enough to taste your pleasure at the back of his throat, before sweeping back up to capture your clit in a blissful blend of gentle suction and the sinful swirl of his tongue.
Slowly, carefully, he slides his fingers back inside you, curling them against that sweet spot deep within you, lips and tongue working in perfect tandem to worship your clit with the same eager attention he'd given your breasts.
You've never felt so feral in all your life, hands clutching at the sheets as you writhe above him like a wild animal in heat, Sebastian's name spilling from your lips in a flurry of sighs and soft, keening moans. With a contented hum, Sebastian reaches up to gently pry your fingers from the bedspread, lacing his own through yours and giving the palm of your hand an affectionate three-pulse squeeze, encouraging you to hold fast to him instead, not wanting to miss a single detail of just how wild he makes you.
Your other hand follows suit, seeking him out, chestnut curls even softer than the silk sheets as you curl your fingers through his hair and give him an insistent tug, and oh, he really likes it when you're a little rough with him, so desperate and needy for his touch that all you can think to do in that moment is pull him even closer, the low, throaty moans he makes every time you do only serving to heighten your pleasure as they vibrate through your core like rolls of thunder.
He brings you crashing over the edge, wrecked and breathless as you call out his name, begging him between stuttered sighs that you need him to be inside you, now.
Sebastian lets out a soft, blissful breath as he presses a few more kisses to your inner thighs, and then slowly rises to his feet, gaze locked on yours as he swipes the pad of his thumb across his lower lip, tongue darting out to lick the last of your release. The sight is obscene, riling up a primal pride deep within you that only makes you want him even more.
You sit perched on the edge of the bed, reaching up to slide his button-up shirt off his shoulders and running your hands down the length of his torso, soft curves over hard-earned muscle, freckles scattered amidst soft patches of chestnut hair like a star-strewn sky through a forest canopy, pausing to take a steadying breath as you reach the waistband of his trousers. Hands trembling from a mix of nerves and excitement, you carefully work the buttons to relieve him of his trousers, the last layer of clothing left between you.
You take a moment to drink him in, eyes raking down the length of his body in hungry appraisal, letting out a soft gasp as you take in the sight of his generous length, before slowly sweeping back up to meet his gaze again, thrill and desire outweighing any apprehension over his intimidating size. You understand now how he must have felt when he first saw you — every inch of him is absolutely stunning.
You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss, sending the two of you tumbling backward against the pillows, giggling and grinning as you cling to one another. Sebastian kisses you, soft and slow, his body a warm, comforting weight as he settles between your thighs, hovering above you. The two of you breathe in on a stuttered gasp as he takes himself in hand and slides the head of his cock between your folds, coating himself in a combination of his saliva and your release, hesitating as he lines himself up with your entrance.
"Ready?" he asks with a steadying breath, heated gaze locked on yours.
"Ready," you answer, just as breathless as you tilt your hips in invitation.
With a broken, blissed out moan, Sebastian slowly sinks inside, stuttered breaths ghosting across your lips as he closes his eyes and presses his forehead against your own, hips stilling the moment he hears your soft gasp from underneath him.
"How're you feeling, love? Are you alright?" he asks with an edge of panic to his voice, terrified at the thought of hurting you. He keeps still as a statue, giving you a moment to adjust to the sheer size of him.
It's indescribable — the most incredible pressure, a pleasant ache like kneading sore muscles, building and unraveling tension all at once; a feeling of fullness after a life spent starving; a kind of magic even more timeless and powerful than the rarity thrumming through your veins, wonderstruck by how perfectly he fits inside you, like the two of you were made for each other.
"More than alright," you reassure him with a breathless, euphoric laugh. "I feel amazing."
Sebastian lets out a sigh of relief.
"Merlin, that's one word for it," he breathes out on a blissful laugh, eyes rolling back at how amazing you feel wrapped around him. "You're perfect."
He leans down to kiss you, soft and slow and sweet.
"I'm going to start moving now…is that alright?" he asks after a few quiet moments, voice straining like it's been torture holding back.
"Please," you sigh, coaxing him closer as you wrap your legs around the small of his back.
Sebastian sets a slow and steady pace, achingly tender as his hips rock against yours in long, languid thrusts, pressing soft little kisses to your cheeks and the corners of your lips as he moves above you, whispering between kisses how beautiful and breathtaking you are. He's careful and controlled, each move dulcet and deliberate like a slow dance between the sheets, determined to make this perfect for you, determined to get it just right, because it has to be. Because this is you, and you are everything.
He's been dreaming of this moment for years, and a part of him still can't believe it's really happening, that he actually gets to be with you. He's spent the better part of the last two and half years convincing himself you'd never feel the same, that he was lucky just to call you his friend, selfish to want more, that he didn't deserve you…though that never stopped him desperately wanting you all the same.
He understands now why they call it lovesick — feverish blush prickling at his skin, heart beating like a staccato as he moves above you, hands trembling as they gently cradle the back of your head and draw you in for a slow, sweet kiss. It's all-consuming, burning through him in equal measures of fiery fervor and glowing embers, like he's just swallowed an Incendio charm. Incurable — though this is one life sentence he'll gladly serve.
It's overwhelming how amazing you feel wrapped around him, soft hands threading through his hair and tugging ever so gently, legs locked around his hips to keep him anchored in your depths, shallow gasps and stuttered ohs whispered in between soft sighs in the shape of his name as you gaze up at him like he is everything to you.
It would be all too easy for him to lose himself in the euphoria of finally getting to be with you, and Merlin, he wants to.
He wants all of you. It's like he can't get close enough, a primal hunger to fuse himself with you, body and soul, bury himself inside you like treasure, climb inside your chest and build a home inside your heart, dive down to your depths and spill all his secrets inside you, long-held confessions of how deeply he's fallen for you.
The words bubble up inside his chest like steam inside of a screaming tea kettle, burning his throat as years worth of messy, nerve-addled feelings threaten to spill past his lips. He wants to kiss the words into your skin, knit his love so deep within you, you feel it in your bones, with each pulse of your heart, his name a subliminal sigh with each breath you take, until you're inextricably woven together, until he's an irrevocable part of you, just as you are for him.
He aches for you to be his, because he's so desperately yours. He'd shout it from the top of the Astronomy Tower, from the stars themselves, if he could.
But if he does…he's afraid you might actually hear him. And Sebastian can't have that. He can't let you know the true depth of his feelings. Not yet. It's too soon, too much for something so fragile and new. He knows he can be a little intense, a little overwhelming. When Sebastian loves, it's fierce and unwavering, and as much as he wants to tell you, show you, how deeply he loves you, he's afraid the intensity of his feelings will drive you away.
He supposes that's one of the many reasons he's always been so drawn to more fiery forms of magic. After all, they're just like him. Fervent. Insatiable. Incendiary. Kindred — kindling — spirits. Cast with the best intentions — to protect and keep warm — but one wrong move, too much, and it becomes dangerous, destructive.
Sebastian has spent his whole life being told as much — that he's too much. Overzealous. Unrelenting. Reckless. Doesn't know when to stop. Breaks everything he touches. Loses everyone he loves.
He can't lose you too.
He's a wildfire, and you— you're a forest teeming with birdsong and greenery, and he's terrified that with one wrong move he'll burn you to the ground, when all he wants to do is keep you warm.
So he holds himself back, concentrates all his efforts into taking it slow, swallowing a symphony of lovesick confessions and pouring the softest version of his love into every touch, determined to make this perfect for you, determined to get this just right. Because maybe, if he gets this right, he'll actually be lucky enough to keep you.
"So perfect," he sighs as he moves above you, soft and sweet.
"Tell me what you need, love," he urges between stuttered breaths and slow, languid thrusts. "To make this perfect for you, too."
You can tell he's holding back — each touch a little too gentle, a little too careful, a little too reserved — and you think you know why, because you know him.
Sebastian Sallow has never done anything halfheartedly, so when he loves, it's without reservation — fiercely, deeply, perhaps a little madly.
You also know that he's lost just about everyone he's ever loved.
Though you've never actually spoken the words out loud, you know that he loves you too. It's always been there, unspoken, thrumming beneath the surface of every interaction.
You can hear it in the silence of a lazy afternoon spent cloud-watching under the shade of a flutterby tree in the summoner's courtyard, splayed hands edging across the grass until you feel the accidental brush of his pinky finger against yours.
In little gestures played off as teasing banter, covert hands sliding stacks of toast and chocolate croissants across the shared desk of your first class, wrapped in scribbled notes admonishing you for missing breakfast after yet another sleepless night.
It's in the way you wish each other goodnight, stretching out the moment with hastily stifled bouts of laughter and stolen glances over your shoulders as you watch him make the long trek back from Ravenclaw Tower to Slytherin Dungeon, hesitant to part after yet another nighttime lark, despite the fact that you know you'll see each other the very next day.
In the way he insists on coming along with you on some of your more daring ventures, pushing down his deep-seated fear of spiders and instinctively stepping between you and a thornback ambusher seconds away from incapacitating you with its venom.
You've always known Sebastian loves you, but up until tonight, you've always thought it was in the same way he loves Anne and Ominis. Fond. Familial. Kindred.
That was before you'd felt the weight of his lips against yours, the tremble in his hands as he'd pulled you close, the beat of his heart thundering in time with your own.
Now that you know it runs even deeper — not just friendly or familial love, but romantic love, too — it adds a whole new layer of vulnerability. And if he loves you the way you think he does, the same way you love him, then you know why he's holding back. Because when someone is your whole heart, the prospect of losing them is that much more terrifying.
This is a man who has endured more pain and loss than most people could even dare to imagine. This is a man filled with more fear and guilt than anyone should ever have to bear. Afraid to fuck up again. Afraid to hurt you again. Afraid to lose what little remains of the people he loves. Afraid to let himself have what he wants, because deep down, he still doesn't think he deserves it.
Afraid that he is too brash, too broken, too intense, too much for anyone to ever want, the weight of his grief too heavy for anyone else to carry, spirit too bright and burning for anyone to ever want to get close enough to touch.
And maybe he is. Maybe he is too much. But that's never stopped you wanting all of him just the same. If he is an untamed beast, then your heart is a vivarium, a home built for an occamy at its full potential. For you, he could never be too much, because you could never get enough of him.
He's a wildfire, but you've always been drawn to his warmth, his light, bright sparks lighting up your coldest, darkest nights. You wouldn't just walk through his flames, you'd dance in them, safe in the knowledge that you'll never get burned.
Because he's a wildfire, but you are a hurricane, and you're more than a match for his heat.
So when he asks you, soft and sweet, what you need make this perfect for you, that's exactly what you tell him.
"You. Just you," you sigh as you lean up to press a trail of kisses in between the freckles that dapple the pale column of his throat. "I want all of you, Sebastian. Please, show me how badly you've been wanting me all this time, too. Don't hold anything back. I can take it…anything and everything you're willing to give."
Sebastian's hips still as he pulls back to look at you, lips parted in surprise.
"Are— are you sure?"
You lean up to kiss him, slow and deep, your answer little more than a sigh against his lips.
"I'm yours, Sebastian. I've always been yours," you whisper. "Now all you have to do is take what's yours."
Sebastian gazes at you, stunned for a moment, breath catching in his throat. And then his eyes darken, and that charming smile that's always made you weak in the knees curls across his lips, adoration burning like the heart of a wildfire in his irises as he keeps his steady gaze locked on yours.
He laces his fingers with yours and pins your entwined hands above your head, holding you captive, using them as an anchoring point as he begins driving into you with rough, zealous thrusts that hit deep and steal your breath, his other hand coming up to smooth across your cheek as he pulls you in for a kiss, swallowing his own name as it falls from your lips in a stuttered sigh.
"Like this, love?" Sebastian groans, the hard line of his smirk pressed against your lips. "Is this how you want me fuck you?"
"God, yes. Please, Sebastian—"
"As you wish, darling," he growls, picking up pace even faster, his thrusts coming even rougher. "You've no idea how badly I've wanted to have you just like this."
"Tell me," you urge, voice barely more than a whisper.
A litany of lovesick confessions spill from his lips in between desperate, hungry kisses: how deeply he adores you, how beautiful you look laid out beneath him, how amazing you feel wrapped around him, how you must've been made for each other with how perfectly you fit together, how he's been dreaming of being with you like this for so long and he can't believe he's lucky enough to actually have the real thing.
How he'd love nothing more than to keep you forever, make you his in every possible sense of the word (because he's yours, he's always been yours, every beat of his heart belongs to you and you alone) wants you to feel the ache of him throbbing between your thighs days after he's made love to you, a constant reminder of what you've done together; wants to leave claiming bruises all over each other's necks so that everyone will know you belong to one another.
You tilt your head back, bearing your neck in offering, and Sebastian lets out an appreciative groan, swooping down to leave another mark right below the first, fire dancing in his eyes are he pulls back to admire his work.
"Mine," his voice rumbles through you like thunder as he presses the word into your pulse point.
"Yours," you sigh, leaning up to graze your teeth along the column of his throat, eager to claim him in return.
It's enough to drive him over the edge, burying his face in your neck and breathing in deep, greedy lungfuls like you're a burst of fresh air after a life spent drowning, praising you between hungry kisses. How he could gladly spend the rest of his life right here between your legs. How wild you drive him with the sounds you make, the way you call out his name.
"I've wanted to hear you say my name in every possible way — in laughter, in sighs, in gasps…in screams," he says with a prideful smirk as he gives a rough snap of his hips that hits deep enough to pull his name from your throat in a sharp, breathless gasp.
Sebastian lets out a low, throaty chuckle that sends shock waves straight to your core, heating burning every inch of your skin like a shot of Firewhisky as he tells you how badly he wants to watch you come undone beneath him, feel you wrapped around him as your body clings to him, see himself reflected in your eyes as you call out his name, to know that he's the only one who can make you feel like this, take you apart just to be the one that completes you.
The hand that's spent all this time tangled in your hair, gently pressed against the curve of your cheek, comes down to wrap around your waist, tilting your hips upward and pulling you roughly against him, the new angle giving him access to an even deeper sweet spot inside you, each thrust causing the space where you're connected to grind against that sensitive bundle of nerves, sending waves of pleasure radiating throughout your entire body as he keeps a steady, consistent rhythm, buried to his hips between your thighs, building you to climax until you're crashing over the edge, fingers laced with his as you fall together, fluttering around him, pulling him in even deeper, an endless chorus of I love you, I'm so in love with you, I'm yours falling from his lips as he spills deep inside you, calling out your name like it's a sacred prayer and you're his salvation.
Sebastian collapses against you, panting against your neck and pressing lazy kisses to your cheek before rolling to the side to lay on his back. You're barely able to get out a breath before he's pulling you into him, coaxing your head onto his chest, wrapping his arms around you in a protective hold, burying his face into the top of your hair and breathing you in with deep, contented sighs.
The words he'd said to you as he'd fallen over the edge repeat inside your head like a mantra, pulling your lips into a bright, blissful smile.
"Sebastian?" you ask as you snuggle in closer, heart full.
"Yes, darling?" he asks, still breathless but utterly blissed, voice muffled by your hair.
"I love you too."
You feel his whole body relax, exhaling on a long, slow, contented sigh that almost sounds like a sob toward the end, like he's relieved to hear you say it out loud.
"D'you know," he says into the comfortable silence after a few moments, lips pulled into a bright smile as he glances over at you. "I've seen entire ecosystems co-existing inside a single room tonight — bloody hell, I saw a phoenix — and all of that still couldn't even hope to compare to being with you," he marvels, still a little breathless. "To think, we could've been— I mean, two and a half years. I can't believe it took us this long to finally act on our feelings."
You lift your head, a playful look in your eyes as you gaze up at him dreamily.
"We just took the scenic route," you tell him, smiling as you lace your fingers together and press a kiss against each of his knuckles in turn.
Sebastian's chest rumbles with laughter as he nuzzles in even closer, pressing kisses to the top of your crown. You do the same to his chest, charting constellations of your own design in the sun-kissed freckles you find there, falling into a deep, comfortable sleep before you have the chance to name them all.
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cloverdaisies · 3 months
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HOW TO SURVIVE SENIOR YEAR ☆
ERIC SOHN x reader 𝜗𝜚𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔
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˗ˏˋ description:ˎˊ˗જ⁀➴ৎ୭ : a chaotic how to guide on surviving high school with an 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 crush on the skater boy with the locker next to urs.
˗ˏˋ genre: ˎˊ˗જ⁀➴ৎ୭: pretty much chaos & fluff !
⋆ ˚。⋆୨ ʚ word count: ɞ ୧⋆ ˚。⋆: 5.4k+
⋆ ˚。⋆୨ ʚ dt : ɞ ୧⋆ ˚。⋆: for bar! @sohnric sorry it’s so late ! ! yk, e v e r y t h i n g that’s been going on & i’m sure you don’t mind! merry late c h r i s t m a s i <3 u very much, i tried to incorporate everything for you… i think these prompts definitely reached the right person!! ৎ୭… so for my bar ! ! …..
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# FRIDAY 21ST SEPTEMBER 1996
# MORNING! 🌥️
The unbearable series of screeching from the school bell, cued the sound of wheels scraping against the pavement outside. A pair of blue cargo jeans complimenting a classic pair of red jordan’s glued themselves to a skateboard as it began flipping and jumping curbs. The wire of a walkman dangling, the flimsy headphones leaking sounds of a noisy guitar through the hallway of the school.
“Eric Sohn. No skating in the corridor and you’re late to class.” A nerdy-looking hallway monitor approached the skateboard wielding boy, holding out some form of citation for Eric to sign with a wavering hand.
“I’m not signing that.” He laughed, snatching the sheet making sure to crumple it into a tight ball before throwing it behind him. “You didn’t see me. Thank me later.”
The hall monitor, whose name tag read ‘Younghoon’ looked down with eyeballs bulging from his skull at the cigarette in his palm, tears pricking his waterline. Eric continued to skate the corridors to his homeroom, biting into an apple with that jaw of his that had to have been sharpened by the gods-
at least…. that’s what you saw….
Eric was a childhood crush of yours, considering you two lived on the same street growing up and you still vividly remember the heart eyes that pumped from your skull when you watched him play basketball on his driveway from your windowsill every night after school. Everything he did was enchanting, he made the simplest things look hot and his charm was next level too.
As for what Kevin sat next to you was seeing: just some dude burping and blowing it into his friends face afterwards.
In your sick love fantasy, you still thought he was the funniest most angelic man to first stick his feet in the soil of the earth.
“If you wanna survive senior year, you need to stop staring at him like that. it’s gross and it’ll leave you the minute it gets heart eyes for anything else. How many times can we have this conversation?” Kevin laughed and scribbled down, ‘1. NO F**K BOYS (especially Eric Sohn)’ in bright red ink at the top of your page.
“So!” Your homeroom teacher waltzed into the room with a wide grin glowing from cheek to cheek. “The class of 96’ how do you feel?! Your time at this school is almost over! Some of us are setting good examples, sat in our actual chairs and not the table Mr. Sohn?”
You giggled as Eric turned with a sigh, crossing his arms and sinking into his seat, secretly you hoped he would catch eyes with you just for a second and share a smile. However, the boy just put his headphones back on and slammed his head on the wooden desk as if he were to fall asleep.
You looked down at the diary where,
“ 1. NO F**K BOYS ”
had been written so passionately by Kevin and thought, if you’re gonna make senior rules, you should at least make the best high school ‘how to’ guide the world has ever seen.
——
The entire school day, word had gotten about ‘Kyu’s first party of the semester’ renowned for his crazy mansion of a house, and parents that were home a concerningly small amount of the time. Happening tonight, you hadn’t even thought about what you were gonna wear yet, or the fact that Kyu himself was Eric’s bestfriend.
Eric had a rather large friend circle of boys in your year, from Juyeon who was into sports to Jacob who was a bit of a music nerd and closer to Kevin if anything. Despite this, neither you or Kevin had received an invite to Kyu’s house for later that day.
# LUNCHTIME ! 🍛
Filling your metal tray and sitting next to Kevin on the end of one of the empty lunch hall tables, before you you could even begin biting in the panini you’d paid for, it was snatched out of your hand by...
“Sunwoo, that was my sandwich.” You groaned, looking at your empty plate and then back at him with a glare. “Do you not have your own food?”
“This looked nicer than my food, just have it back.” He shrugged dumping the half eaten sandwich back on your plate.
“Oh no it’s all yours.” You smiled sarcastically watching as he smiled and took the sandwich back in one animalistic gulp.
“So sorry about that y/n. Isn’t he just awful? I got you a new one.” Hyunjae, as if the entire scene was staged, sits beside you with his hand smoothly rested on his cheek. He pushed a new sandwich in front of you with a carton of orange juice sat at the top of the tray.
You rolled your eyes before you almost tripped over your comically untied laces (how did both of them end up that way?) You flew backwards only to be caught by Hyunjae, once again returning to his cringey script.
“Falling for me, I see?” He smirked lifting you back to your feet as you sat down to retie your laces that had been undone by someone at some point in time.
“Is this just going to happen every lunchtime?” You cocked an eyebrow with a huff, tying bunny ears in your converse and briefly looking back up to the boy.
“Of course, however each time it just gets more creative.” He smiled confidently, you were unaware that these were romantic gestures since Hyunjae made it seem like one big joke with his extravagant concepts.
“Please make it stop.” You rolled your eyes and tucked into the new sandwich, Kevin laughing to himself. You began to zone out as you noticed Eric from across the canteen, sat on the table skateboard propped up and talking to his friends. He looked at you momentarily with a smile before you were interrupted by Hyunjae waving his hand in front of your face.
“Are you guys coming to kyu’s?” Hyunjae asked, biting into his own.
“No. We’re not cool enough.” Kevin began to fake cry, wiping invisible tears and squealing in a high pitched whine.
“He said anyone can come, of course you guys are invited. When has he ever asked anyone?” Sunwoo added punching Kevin the back lightly and taking a seat at the table. “Just show up.”
As lunch ended, you found yourself digging through your locker for the biology notes you’d written the other day. However as you dug through your shelf you just couldn’t find them.
“What you looking for?” A deep voice alarmed you, looking up to see Eric Sohn throwing his jacket in the locker that belonged to him next to yours.
“Oh. Uhm.” You stuttered for a moment, wondering if your eyes and ears were telling you the truth. “Just some notes for biology, we have a test coming up.”
“Oh yeah, you can borrow mine for now. Just slot them back in my locker on Monday.” Eric passed you a few pieces of A4 with neatly printed notes, the cigarette resting on his lips bobbing as he spoke.
“Thanks, that’s uh, really kind of you.” You smiled as he shook his head nonchalantly.
“It’s nothing, don’t stress.” He added before breezing past you to the exit of the school with a confident stride in his steps, his skateboard under his arms.
# EVENING 🌌 :📍Y/N’s HOUSE
“Okay so what are you wearing?” Kevin asked turning around in his sequin shirt and jeans, complimenting his outfit with a crossbody bag and sunglasses.
“Uhm. Not sure yet. Might go for baggy jeans and a sequin top too.. I have a lot.” You showed Kevin the options, watching as he scratched his chin and looked between them.
જ⁀➴ৎ୭ OUTFIT OPTIONS:
(feel free to mix & m a t c h!)
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“Gorgeous!” Kevin smiled, fixing you a few necklaces of his behind your neck. You smiled and looked in the mirror briefly before setting off down the block.
The house pulsated the entire street as guests spilled in the front door to the infectious rhythm playing at max volume from the many speakers around the house. A kaleidoscope of vibrant lights drowned the space, as drinks circulated everyone from the kitchen.
House parties tended to be like some sort of cringe trashy and incomprehensible version of a homecoming dance for adults that you couldn’t seem to understand. Sure they were fun but, high school students embarrassing themselves sure wasn’t.
“Hey Kevin.” A very drunk Ji Changmin sauntered over to us at the entrance, “Who’s the plus one?”
As Changmin looked over with his devilish glare, apart of you started to get nervous. As if you were mixing with the wrong crowd, a gentle flip in your stomach warned you, something was about to go incredibly wrong.
“Hi, I’m y/n.” You introduced yourself with a smile, as he passed you a beer from the many in his arms.
There was one thing that would determine whether someone would survive senior year: alcohol.
“2. PARTIES = STATUS”
Probably one of the most screwed survival tips, but unfortunately for teenagers who were just short of legal age a sip of liquor was enough to emphasise them as ‘cool’. Even if drinking is not your thing, the general consensus of being popular in senior year was to attend parties, host them and make lethal mistakes whilst there.
Throughout the night, you and Kevin found yourselves bouncing from group to group eventually watching Sangyeon and Juyeon play the most intense game of cup pong ever played in the competitive sports world.
♫ ANOTHER NIGHT - REAL MCCOY playing from speakers ♫
“Do you wanna take this one?” Sangyeon asked, holding the ping pong ball in front of you with a raised eyebrow.
“Me?” You asked laughing from the sidelines as he nodded, standing up properly you walked towards the table where most eyes were fixed on the table.
You’d gotten the grips of how to play, grasping the ball with a nervous clench before watching as Juyeon stared down the table with a sly smirk, his arms folded over his white tank top.
Bouncing off the table the ball hit the top of the few cups cups before landing in the fourth, making Juyeon’s total three. The crowd watching laughed as Juyeon threw his head back in defeat, taking the cup and gulping down its contents.
“Taking advantage of beginners luck is dirty play.” Juyeon shook his head at Sangyeon who laughed knowingly. “Whatever. If I land this you’re drinking this.”
Sure enough, as Juyeon bounced the ball across the table it landed in one of the two cups left leaving one. You’d hoped he’d missed not wanting to get to drunk around a group of people you’d never met. Nevertheless you took the cup and necked it’s contents, with a cheering crowd. Juyeon eventually won against Sangyeon, seeing the close of world’s most competitive game of cup pong.
A few drinks through the night, your brain chemistry had already began buzzing and the socialite in you stepped out of hiding, as you spoke to almost everyone you encountered. Hearing commotion from the living room, you dragged Kevin to investigate.
The room buzzed with anticipation as people gathered in a circle, forming a tight-knit group. Nervous giggles filled the air, drowned out by the music playing in the background. Sunwoo placed a bottle in the center of the circle, ready to determine the first pair of an early game of ‘spin the bottle’.
With a flick of his wrist, the bottle spun, its rotation echoing the excitement in the room. Hearts raced as it slowed down, pointing towards its chosen target. The room held its breath as the Sunwoo locked eyes with a girl he’d had a crush on for most of his childhood, their cheeks flushing bright pink as he made eye contact. With a playful smile, Sunwoo picked out one of the ‘fates’ written in the hat, revealing the crumpled paper to the crowd.
“Kiss.” He laughed nervously, smiling as she was, the circle squealed in anticipation. He leaned in to give her peck which raised a “booo” from the crowd at the underwhelming gesture.
“Y/N JOIN IN.” Hyunjae yelled from the group, causing the circle to laugh at how pathetic he was. You jokingly stepped behind Kevin to hide as “Join” began to be chanted in the room, persuading you to sit down in a gap made by Hyunjae and Haknyeon.
You took the bottle and spun it, the booze causing nerves to disappear. As the bottle began to slow down, Hyunjae grabbed the glass pointing it towards him - no one protesting considering this was his life long goal.
You sighed, hoping the paper in the hat wouldn’t do you dirty in this situation, looking up you noticed a familiar figure. Eric’s eyes stared down at you, stood from the other side of the circle, rested against the mantlepiece in his tank top and baggy jeans - a bottle of beer gripped loosely in his hands.
All of a sudden, your hands began to shake in adrenaline, Hyunjae’s eyes wavering as he noticed the way you looked up at the other boy. You began to unfold one of the pieces of paper from the hat, “7 minutes in heaven” you could have screamed. This was truly a worst case scenario, as the circle cheered and Sunwoo ushered the two of you to the bathroom.
Hyunjae locked the door with a sigh, sitting both legs in the bathtub and taking a lengthy swig of his beer in a saddened manner.
“Are you not going to do anything?” You asked curiously, folding your arms and taking a seat on the toilet cover.
“No.”He sighed, resting the bottle on the side and turning to look at you with an inquisitive stare, his eyebrows furrowing as if they contemplating internal questions.
“Why not?” You asked further, leaning forward as Hyunjae’s confident demeanour seemed to have suspiciously faltered.
“I see the way you look at him.” He suddenly spat, as if something within him snapped. “You’ll never give it up will you. Everyday, I do something to make you laugh, smile and show you someone cares. Yet… Every time I try, you’re still staring at that motherfucker who wants nothing to do with you.”
“Sorry?” You asked almost confused, the outburst seemingly unnecessary as he went to speak again but was interrupted by an ominous banging at the door.
“I get you guys are probably exchanging cooties in there, but I need to shit.” The sweet sound of Haknyeon’s charming voice and vocabulary echoed through the bathroom causing you to hold back a laugh in the situation.
“Listen y/n. I need to ask a favor.” Hyunjae proposed, stopping you from reaching for the handle of the door. “My parents have been bugging me about having a girlfriend, since my brother has one now and they’re telling me I’m a good for nothing man who will never be able to commit to someone. Which is kind of true. But will you pretend to be my girlfriend to get them off my back?”
“Will I? Hmmm….” You pretend to think for a second before retorting with a loud. “NO.”
“Please. I’ll help you get him, I’ll do everything I can to help you win Eric over. I’m one of his bestfriends.” Hyunjae’s eyes glistened in genuine sparkle, an expression you’d only come across once or twice in your life.
“I’ll think about it. But for now, it’s not a yes or a no.” You closed the conversation, head spinning as you opened the door, Haknyeon spilling into the bathroom and beelining straight for the toilet.
“3. DONT PRETEND TO BE SOMEONE’s GIRLFRIEND WHILST YOUR TRYING TO GET THE ATTENTION OF THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE.”
Oddly specific rule, however as you proceeded down the stairs it seemed you wouldn’t have to convince people you were dating - their dirty minds had already assumed what had happened in that bathroom.
“You’re on.” You looked back at Hyunjae with a smile before linking arms with Kevin to leave, the party only dying down in the early hours of the morning.
# SATURDAY 22ND SEPTEMBER 1996
# MORNING 🌥️
The gentle rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains, birds began chirping outside, and the comforting aroma of breakfast drifted from the kitchen. Your eyes stuck together and your head booming with music from the night before, on the floor Kevin was sprawled emitting gentle snores.
The sound of a car horn outside, immediately brought you to your senses, with your fingers your gently moved the curtain to see Hyunjae leant against his car.
“Your dating Hyunjae?” Kevin asked, giving you the fright of your life as he appeared over your shoulder.
“No.” You immediately refuted, getting shivers from the sickly idea of having to date such a inferior choice of male.
“So why’s he here?” Kevin asked with a sarcastic voice, laughing at the stupidity of the scene.
“We’re dating but like just so his family gets off his back.” You sighed, standing up out of bed and beginning to make yourself look more presentable.
“You’re FAKE dating, Hyunjae?” Kevin’s jaw dropped even more than it already was if that was even possible. “That isn’t gonna look good to lover boy now is it?”
“Listen, he’s helping me get him. He’s on the inner circle, if I have a chance of getting Eric this is it.” You sighed taking your clothes to change in your arms.
“I’m calling Jacob.” Kevin suddenly added, pulling out his nokia with its antenna.
“Don’t you dare he said don’t call unless it’s emergencies, he’s in exam mode.” You recalled, knowing Jacob is practically unreachable during exam season.
“This is an emergency.” Kevin emphasised each word with a sarcastic edge.
“It’s not and if you call him, I’ll make your life so difficult.” You pointed at the boy with a warning finger before walking out to meet Hyunjae in front of his car.
♫ ALL THE SMALL THINGS - BLINK 182 playing from the car radio ♫
“Hey.” You smiled, climbing into the passenger seat of his car, the soft top rolled down so the breeze would eventually leave you wind swept. “Where we heading?”
“Bowling with my parents.” Hyunjae grumbled, more than happy you were in his car but visibly stressed with the entire situation.
“Is this all I have to do and I’m not your girlfriend anymore?” You suggested, leaning your head on the side of the car and letting the wind catch your face.
“Should be. Then I’ll tell you all about him.” Hyunjae chuckled, one hand on the steering wheel and another raking through his hair.
The bowling alley downtown was lively, decorated with neon lights and the sound of crashing pins. The smell of hot dogs and nachos wavering faintly in the air. The lanes are filled with laughter and ‘friendly’ competition.
Hyunjae swiftly introduced you to his mother and father, who looked you up and down before sending him an impressed smile.
“I’ll have to warn you dear y/n, they both get a bit competitive.” Hyunjae’s mother smiled as Hyunjae age his dad began squaring up to each other in the lane.
Whilst you were putting on your shoes, you felt a pair of eyes on you from somewhere unable to tell where.
“Hey y/n!” A familiar cheerful voice greeted you, looking up shell shocked you saw Eric, dressed in his work uniform with a lollipop. You felt your heart shatter, Hyunjae had to know he worked here, he set you up, but why?
Eric looked gorgeous in uniform you had to say, his pinstriped shirt and jeans complimented by the blue cap. However, you had bigger issues.
“You on a date with Hyunjae?” He asked, polishing a pair of shoes behind the counter next to you, happening to notice how pretty his hands were. “You look pretty, he’s a lucky guy.”
What did he say?
“Oh Eric! You met my girlfriend! This is y/n!” Hyunjae wrapped an arm around you with a condescending smile, for you everything felt as if it had frozen in time.
Eric swivelled the lollipop in his mouth for a moment, observing the look of shock you’d tried to conceal with a smile on your face and chuckled to himself.
“Landed a nice one there haven’t you buddy?” Eric almost began to patronise his bestfriend, a look of suspicious nature hidden in his big smile like a cheshire cat.
“I’m just going to go to the bathroom.” You giggled before excusing yourself to the toilets across the arena with a nervous pace.
“Well that backfired.” A voice sounded, someone pulling you back from one of the booths in the canteen. Kevin and Jacob sat like spies with sunglasses tuxedos and newspapers had been watching the entire time.
“He set me up.” You sighed putting your hands in your head. “I know he’s jealous of him but i didn’t think he’d go this far.”
“It’s Hyunjae. This is probably hilarious content to him.” Kevin rolled his eyes as Jacob nodded along, them both peering around the corner to watch the scene unfold.
“Y/n have you ever considered that Eric might like you?” Jacob asked taking his sunglasses off to look at you properly before you answered.
“He definitely doesn’t like me like that, maybe as a friend?” You suggested, twiddling your thumbs together over the wooden surface.
“Well he doesn’t seem to like the entire you and Hyunjae thing.” He added looking back over to the icy conversation between the two boys at the check in desk - Hyunjae’s parents stepping in to tell him they were ready to play.
“How can you tell?” You furrowed your brows in confusion, waiting for the reply as he began to speak.
“Duck! He’s coming.” Kevin quickly hid you under table covering you with his jacket as they both got back to their newspapers.
“Kevin?” The sound of Hyunjae’s voice from above the surface startled. “You seen y/n anywhere?”
“No? I saw her come in with you.” Kevin cleverly redirected the question allowing the boy to shrug and walk in a different direction looking for you.
“I told you these disguises wouldn’t work, we needed the moustaches.” Kevin hissed across the table to Jacob, the both of them having watched a few too many over the summer.
“Listen what do I do? Because I can’t tell Eric I’m fake dating Hyunjae because then he’d find out I was doing it because I have a stupid little thing for him!” You exclaimed, frustrated as you’d fell right in to Hyunjae’s trap.
“4. DON’T FALL FOR YOUR CRUSH’S BESTFRIENDS BLACKMAIL”
“I wouldn’t call it little. But hope things work out for you!” Jacob smiled angelically ignoring the pain shimmering in your eyes.
“Me too!” They began to gather their things ave scramble, about to take flight from the situation.
“Where are you guys going?” You asked panicked they were about to ditch you and leave the sticky situation.
“Getting you out of here.” Kevin replied taking your arm and sprinting out of the nearest exit - they may have set an alarm off for opening a fire door but oh well.
“5. DO HAVE FRIENDS THAT WILL GET YOU OUT OF SITUATIONS YOU CAUSED YOURSELF”
# MONDAY 24TH SEPTEMBER 1996
After hibernating in your bed for the rest of the weekend and 13 times Kevin had tried to ring the landline to check if you were okay. It was time to face them all at school and you could not think of anything worse.
“Oh my god. It’s aliveeee.” Kevin acts out a poor excuse of a Frankenstein impression as you laughed and breezed past him to your locker.
“If you see Hyunjae hide me.” You chuckled as he signed ‘rodger that’ with a salute and began rambling about the pasta he cooked for dinner the night before.
All of a sudden you were pushed into the locker, Kevin stood in front on you casually reading a book as Hyunjae walked by with a question mark above his head. He didn’t bother asking where you were, assuming if you weren’t with Kevin you weren’t there at all.
You eventually broke free of the hiding spot, fixing your hair and brushing down your clothes. The sound of wheels rolling down the corridor coming to a halt beside you.
“Were you?-” Eric was about to ask but refrained considering Kevin was signing ‘cut’ and ‘shush’ behind you flailing his arms around like a maniac.
“Here’s your notes.” You smiled, a touch of pink rising to your cheeks as your hand grazed his defined one, the notes you’d borrowed in pristine condition.
“Thanks, cutie.” He smiled, the nickname causing you to freeze up in your tracks, you knew he only said it out of courtesy or like the others that was ‘just his personality’ but it made your heart melt - as you watched him skate down the corridor, his biceps flexing to maintain balance.
You managed to survive your classes without being berated by Hyunjae or any of his friends, having to sadly eat lunch in a cubicle surely wasn’t a high moment of yours.
Soon the bell was sounding for the end of the day as students flocked out of the grounds excited for the school’s baseball match that evening.
“There she is!” You heard an annoyingly shrill voice yell from behind you, as you were about to cross the car lot. Behind you was Eric Hyunjae and Juyeon, walking in a line towards you whilst Eric was on his skateboard.
“Told you I saw her.” Eric laughed as you were clearly avoiding Hyunjae at all costs, you turned with a bitter smile as they got closer.
“You coming to Eric’s big game tonight?” Juyeon asked giving a friendly elbow to Eric, clearly nervous as it was the first big game of the season.
Eric looked at you with an ounce of hope, only to be quickly shot down, but you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes sparkled at the idea.
“No she’s actually got a date with me.” Hyunjae answered for you with a snide tone, eyes flickering towards you.
“No,no. I think I’ll go.” You smiled, “I really like baseball.”
“I don’t wanna interrupt you guys.” Eric looked between you both with something suspicious lingering behind his eyes as he turned his baseball cap to the left.
“You’re not interrupting us! Perhaps this ‘date’ can be on the pitch.” You suggested looking at Hyunjae’s wide eyes, knowing his plan was falling to pieces but he couldn’t disagree, not in front of everyone.
“Cool.” Eric smiled smugly, “See you there.”
You watched as him and Juyeon walked to the pitch for pre-match practice. Not wanting to spare Hyunjae anymore time, you walked at lightning speed in the direction of your house, ignoring him yelling your name from behind you.
“Y/n give me a second.” Hyunjae caught up to you on the sidewalk, grabbing your arm to turn you around. “You don’t have to do this anymore, go get him. It’s clear you’ll always love him and I can’t change that. I’m sorry, I took it too far.”
Despite the fact you appreciated the apology it seemed as if it was a little to late, he’d already tried to bring everything crashing down between you and Eric and now he thinks the both of you are on a date at his game. You smiled at him and nodded, swiftly turning on your heels and rushing home.
# LET’S GO H A W K S, LET’S G O O O !!🏟️
The chanting of cheerleaders and commotion amongst the crowd sang from outside of the pitch, Kevin and Jacob having already bought snacks rushed to a bench with good sight of the pitch.
“I’m so excited for this, there’s literally no way we lose.” Kevin watched as your school team walked out on to the pitch, immediately spotting Eric and making smoochy faces at you.
You didn’t notice too much of Kevin’s torment, as you were captivated by the sight of him. Eric looked up at the bleachers as if he was scanning the crowd for someone in particular his eyes landed on you for a moment - or Kevin maybe even Jacob.
The game commenced, no home-runs were scored by the competition and our team was not looking to beat them either. Time was running out as the ball left the hand of the pitcher, Eric stood in formation waiting for the ball to reach him. He swung the bat behind him and hit the ball with astonishing force triggering a roar from the crowd. He made a run for it, it was a home-run, the winning home-run.
“Go get him girl.” Kevin said as the players began to leave the pitch, watching as you ran off immediately to find him.
You patiently waited outside the locker rooms for him, knowing the other players would be tossing him around and winding him up. He eventually emerged from the lockers, wet hair and a towel around his neck.
“Can I talk to you?” You asked as he caught eyes with you, confused to why you’d waited.
“Sure, where’s Jae?” He asked, following you as you began to walk to somewhere more private.
“I’ll explain all of that.” You sighed, looking back at the boy for a moment, feeling your heartbeat pause in time as the sunlight hit his skin.
You both made your way under the bleachers, Eric already making a joke about what happens underneath them before even getting there.
“Eric. I have to say this otherwise one day I’m going to implode.” You began, your heart facing the adrenaline kicking through your veins and it was as if a theme park was screaming in your stomach. “I like you.”
A silence sat amongst you, the conflict in his eyes bouncing back and forth making you increasingly apprehensive for what he was about to say.
“Y/n I can’t do this to Hyunjae. Listen I really like you but that’s my-” Eric tried to collect himself, holding on to the top of the bleachers with one arm and wiping his forehead with the other.
“Eric we’re not dating! I know you can see that.” You pleaded with him, watching as his gorgeous eyes twisted to confusion.
“You’re not?” He asked, more than confused.
“No…. I agreed to ‘fake’ date him to get his parents off his back and to get to know more about you. But.. he took it too far and I think he might’ve been jealous I liked you.” You admitted, chewing your bottom lip and looking anywhere but at the boy fresh off the pitch in his baseball uniform.
“I don’t know because what if you’re lying to me.” He suggested, you couldn’t get offended because what if you were?
“Eric you’ve known me since we were kids I wouldn’t lie to you, I wouldn’t get anything out of doing that.” You reassured him, watching him contemplate ideas in his head as if mini cogs were turning.
“Y/n I know I don’t show it, but I really was interested in you but Hyunjae I couldn’t hurt him. Do you mind if I?” He asked, pulling you closer to him with his back leant up against the metal beam behind him.
“Of course I don’t.” You smiled, your voice barely above a whisper as you watched that beautiful grin of his spread across his lips, his brown eyes sparkling down with the sunset peaking through the gaps of the rows.
He kissed you, so sweetly, so gently, holding your face with the palm of his hand and bringing your waist closer as your stomach flipped and your heart filled with love. As you parted he brought you into his arms, it was the warmest hug that just felt as if everything was right.
“Now that you’ve said it, it makes sense. I’ve never seen someone avoid their boyfriend so much until now.” He laughed thinking of the time you escaped the bowling alley with Kevin and Jacob and further went to extreme lengths to avoid him at school too.
You giggled in his arms, looking up to his face that smiled back down at you, gently moving in for another kiss.
“I think I won twice today.” Eric laughed, giddy with excitement the grin on his face practically beaming from ear to ear.
That’s how you sort of survived senior year.
tagging: @juyeonszn @deobienthusiast 🤍
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fiyaa-xoxo · 3 months
Text
Theres something different about receiving a handwritten letter......
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✧˚ · .Spring has sprung as the NCR students walk through out the NRC campus. With spring here and the flowers blooming, and most important of all valentines day right around the corner. NRC launches lockers for students to anonymously give someone something for valentines day. Surprise, Surprise the prefects locker was the one with the most letters. Lets see what some of them wrote, will u find out who wrote what?....
From: A crimson flower...
My Crimson Rose,
In this whimsical realm where time dances to its own curious tune, I find myself enchanted by the notion of Happy Unbirthdays and the delightful chaos that ensues in the shadow of the Queen of Hearts. It is within this peculiar Wonderland that our paths have crossed, and my heart, typically bound by the rigidity of rules, has succumbed to the joyful mayhem of your presence.
Oh, how the tea parties unfold in blissful disorder, each cup raised in celebration of the nonsensical day that is every day but one! The Queen of Hearts, with her regal decree and whimsical demands, presides over these gatherings where laughter echoes like the most harmonious of melodies. In the mirthful company of jesters and creatures, our souls intertwine, and the rules of reality bow to the capricious whims of Wonderland.
As the Queen commands the cards to paint the roses red, I am reminded that the essence of love in this fantastical realm is as unpredictable as the ever-changing hues of Wonderland's flora. In the intricate dance of courtly affections, I find myself waltzing with you, my partner in this splendid, topsy-turvy masquerade.
From: An Inky Dealer...
And so, my heart, once bound by the rigid laws of reason, now surrenders to the whimsy of Wonderland and the joyful rebellion that accompanies it. With every unbirthday tea party we share, I am reminded that true happiness lies not in conformity but in the enchanting chaos of love.
To my Siren,
As the currents of fate weave through the whimsical waters of Twisted Wonderland, I find myself drawn to you like a siren's call echoing in the depths of the Monstro Lounge. In this ocean of magical mayhem, your presence is a beacon that lights up the darkest corners of my heart.
The glittering allure of Ursula's domain mirrors the shimmering depths of the feelings that swirl within me. Much like the ebb and flow of the tides, our connection resonates with a rhythm that transcends the ordinary cadence of everyday life.
In the enchanting embrace of the Monstro Lounge, where secrets are exchanged like treasures and laughter dances upon the waves of conversation, I am captivated by the spell you cast upon my existence. Ursula's wisdom echoes in the whispers of our shared moments, and I am reminded that love, much like the sea, holds depths yet to be explored.
So, let this letter be a testament to the enchantment you bring into my life, a tale woven with threads of magic and mystery. In the embrace of Ursula's sanctuary and the symphony of the Monstro Lounge, my heart finds its rhythm in harmony with yours.
From: The oasis in the hot sands...
Dear, sunshine
With the boundless energy of a desert breeze, my affection for you grows, and the tapestry of our shared moments becomes a mosaic of joy and laughter. Your smile, a treasure more precious than any gem in the sands, illuminates my world with unparalleled warmth.
In the vibrant oasis of love, I find solace in the melody of our shared laughter and the dance of our dreams under the twinkling stars. With each passing day, my heart beats in rhythm with the magic you bring into my life.
So, let this be a simple testament to the love that blossoms like a desert rose within my chest—a love as boundless as the endless sands of Twisted Wonderland.
From: A loyal knight
My dearest Everglow,
Amidst the tapestry of my own existence, I pledge my loyalty to you with the same unwavering devotion that I offer to the illustrious Malleus Draconia. To serve him is an honor, and in his guidance, my loyalty becomes an intricate dance—a choreography of duty and affection.
In this realm where loyalty is both a shield and a key, my heart beats with the rhythm of a promise made not just in service but in love. Your understanding gaze, a refuge in the labyrinth of obligations, is a testament to the deep connection that transcends the boundaries of duty.
So, let this be a tender acknowledgment of the magic that binds me to both my fae heritage and the loyalty I extend to you and Malleus—a love letter written with the ink of allegiance and sealed with the embrace of my heart.
Writers note: Hello everyone! Were u able to find out who's who? Let me know if u want more writings like this!
Requests are open!! ^^
───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──
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infinitystoner · 8 months
Text
Exaltation
AO3 | Masterlist
Summary: In which you express the depths of your devotion to Loki of Asgard (whilst on your knees).
Pairing: Prince!Loki x Female Reader
Word count: 2.2k
Tags/Content: Teasing, Bratty Behavior, Humor, Bit of Fluff, Praise, Smut, Oral (m receiving), Established Relationship, Second Person POV, No Y/N
Rating: Explicit; 18+
Author’s note: So, I’m kind of obsessed with writing Prince Loki at the moment. Perhaps this is the start of a new collection? Anyway, here’s a lil’ something for @sarahscribbles’ birthday celebration. I hope you enjoy these brats in love, my dear!
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Loki huffs as the two of you cross the threshold into his rooms, kicking the heavy golden door shut behind him, the impact reverberating off the stone walls with a resounding thud.  
Norns, he’s as eager to get to the bedchamber as you are. And rightly so – it’s been days. 
“Loki!” You giggle as you turn to him, warm laughter faltering at the sight of his solemn countenance, a shift that tinges the atmosphere with something you can’t quite place.  
It’s unexpected, yet familiar. Anticipation simmers in your stomach as he releases your hand, jerking his chin toward the blazing hearth at the center of his study. 
“Over there. Now.”
Oh. 
Just a few hours earlier, Loki, Thor, and their entourage had returned from a week-long royal hunt. Your reunion at the celebratory feast had been nothing short of scintillating – a mirthful evening of rousing conversation, stolen glances, abundant wine, and teasing touches. 
But it hadn’t been enough. With Loki, it’s never enough. 
He’s always a bit insatiable after time apart, but tonight something is different. There’s a sense of determination emanating from him as he observes you following his order without hesitation. His jaw is set, the muscles of his neck subtly tensing as he holds his head high, nostrils flaring slightly as his eyes bore through you. 
It’s quite thrilling, really. 
The fire emits a symphony of pops and snaps, flames lapping at the logs in an enchanting waltz as Loki stalks forward, commanding your attention with each step. He unfastens his cloak, draping it over the settee. You wonder why you’re not already draped across the sofa, Loki’s body pressing into yours. But you dare not move from your designated spot, especially when you notice the devious glint in his sharp, calculating gaze.
“It’s been much too long, love.” He’s in front of you now, poised and majestic and biting his lip in the most devastating way. The crackling fire crescendos as logs shift, casting shadows that flicker and sway throughout the chamber, and you furtively take a small step to the left. It’s a vain endeavor to quell the mounting ache between your thighs, but at least the new position allows the amber light to accentuate each curve of your silhouette. Because whatever little game Loki’s planning, you intend to win. 
“I don’t know why you insist on making it longer.” 
He only hums in response, quirking a brow as he rocks on his heels, regarding you. 
Infuriating brat. 
Loki slightly startles when you impetuously fist the collar of his tunic, crashing your lips into his. You don’t expect him to lean in, considering his little display of dominance and all, so it’s your turn to be caught unawares when his tongue slips past your lips. It’s slow and sweet, and the lingering taste of honey wine envelops your senses and sends you reeling with pleasure.
When Loki breaks the kiss, you lurch forward, craving more. It’s never enough. 
But any momentum you might’ve summoned with your amorous advance is now gone – the deep, jovial laugh rumbling through his chest a stark contrast to your shallow pants.  
“Ah, ah,” he tuts, his palm flat against your collarbone. “Remain where you are so that I may get a good look at you.” 
“I believe you did enough looking during the feast,” you quip, finally catching your breath. Loki takes another step back, eyes crinkling in mirth and appearing every bit the mischievous god that he is. 
“There wasn’t much else that could be done in front of the Allfather and half of Asgard, now was there, darling? And surely you cannot fault me for wanting to admire a divine creature such as yourself.” 
Damn that silver tongue.
“But I am curious to know all the sordid thoughts hidden away in that pretty head of yours,” Loki continues, his darkened eyes raking over your body as a familiar warmth ignites every nerve ending like a fiery enchantment. At first, you think he’s magicked away your gown – a dash of disappointment arising in you when you realize you’re still fully clothed.
“Whatever do you mean?” you reply, tauntingly narrowing your eyes. It’s a wily attempt to lure Loki into your trap – because the only thing he loves more than provoking chaos is countering a challenge. 
“Careful, little one. Do not lie to me. Not when both know your intentions are less than honorable, what with that rousing performance licking the ambrosia from your fingertips at the high table.” 
An impish smile tugs at the corners of your lips as he circles you, the stealth movement reminding you of a predator on the prowl. You refuse to be his prey. For now, anyway. 
“Oh, that? Merely an ill-timed consequence of misplacing the serviette.” 
Loki’s fingertips trail down your arms before he grasps your hips, pulling you against his solid form. 
“Is that so?” he rasps in your ear, his cool breath sending a chill down your spine. His erection is evident, and you both shamelessly groan as you grind your ass into him. 
“See?” The timbre of his voice vibrates across your flesh as he cups your breast, his thumb roughly flicking your nipple through the sinfully thin fabric of your dress. “Trouble.”
“You love it.” 
“Oh, do I ever,” he hums, scraping his teeth over the sensitive skin below your ear as his hands continue their exploration. It’s an addicting action he knows drives you wild, and, in the haze of lust he’s conjuring, you don’t realize he’s deftly unclasping the pin at the shoulder of your gown.   
A small gasp escapes you as the silken bodice pools around your waist. Even with the hearth burning beside you, the air in the chamber is crisp, and Loki’s hands are cooler still. He circles you again, tugging the lustrous material over your hips, a smug grin adorning his face as you stand completely bare before him. You straighten your shoulders as he retreats, his pupils expanding with unabated lust as he drinks in the sight of you. 
The light ebbs and flows around you, but your eyes are solely focused on each other as Loki settles into the plush velvet armchair across from where you stand. 
“So brazen,” you tease, stepping out of your slippers and lightly kicking your discarded garment to the side. “But I thought you fancied yourself a benevolent god, Loki.” 
“Hmm? Oh, yes,” he says, eyeing the front of his trousers. “I suppose that was quite unfair of me, wasn’t it?”
He waves his hand with a flourish, his clothing evaporating in a flash of emerald. 
Gods, he’s gorgeous. Golden light flickers across his immaculate physique and a part of you wants to stay here forever – committing the impossible splendor of this maddening man to memory. But Loki has other plans. 
“Enjoying the view?”
You release a shaky breath, the throbbing in your core becoming more unbearable by the second. “Yes.”
“But it’s not enough, is it?” His voice drips with a blend of amusement and mockery, as if savoring the mere taste of your frustration. 
He’s going to be the end of you. You shake your head, watching in awe as he widens his hips, the ripple of elegant muscle beneath his alabaster skin accentuated in the firelight – but it’s the sight of his beautiful cock resting against his thigh that makes your heart stutter. You’re gawking, too; you’re sure of it. But you don’t care. 
When your eyes dart up to meet his, Loki smiles and silently beckons you with a graceful curl of his forefinger. 
Finally. Arousal thrums through your veins, but as you move to climb atop him, he snatches your wrist, and you freeze. 
“Kneel.” 
It’s a command so powerful, so sensual, that you know surrender is imminent. 
You’re between his thighs in a heartbeat, yearning to worship every glorious inch of him. Your knees sink into the plush furs at his feet as you prepare to indulge every request he makes.
“Loki…�� you say breathlessly, dragging your nails up his muscular calves. 
“You know–” he interrupts “–out there, in the wilds of Asgard, the vision of you on your knees, begging for me, possessed my every waking thought. In fact, darling, I was so preoccupied that I nearly clipped Thor with a rogue arrow.” 
You breathe out a nervous laugh at his admission, and his lips curl into that damned smirk as he looks down at you. It’s the one he always dons when he’s up to something, and suddenly everything falls into place.
“Beg.”
Your resolve shatters, words tumbling from you without conscious thought. “I need to touch you, Loki. Please.” 
“Oh, you can do better than that, dove,” he taunts, languidly beginning to stroke himself. “Beg for me and I’ll give you exactly that which you desire.” 
You inhale, mouth watering in anticipation and mind reeling with possibility. And then the perfect words come to you.
“My king,” you say with an air of innocence, pride bubbling in your chest as Loki’s cock twitches in his palm. “I am yours. Completely.” 
Your gaze meets his as you caress his thighs, pushing them slightly outward as you lean forward. He exhales when your hand replaces his own, shifting in the chair as you emulate his unhurried strokes.
“Words alone cannot express my eternal devotion.” 
His eyes glisten as he reaches down to tenderly grasp your chin, the pad of his thumb massaging your bottom lip. 
“That isn’t–” Loki hesitates, his voice carrying a hint of wariness, and your heart aches for him. All these years and some small part of him still believes he’s unworthy of your affection. 
He deserves every ounce of veneration you can bestow upon him – and not just tonight. For as long as time stretches across the cosmos, you’ll spend your days and nights proving to Loki the love you share is real and that he is worthy of it and so much more. 
“Allow me to exalt you” is what you think you say before he guides himself into your mouth, but you’re not certain of anything right now. Except that he’s warm and heavy on your tongue, and the sweet, tangy taste of him is divine. 
You hear him gasp from above, and you moan in turn, watching in fascination as he responds to your touch. He’s everything you desire and soon your fervent slurps and Loki’s soft grunts are the only sounds accompanying the crackles and pops of the fire.  
“Gods, yes,” he pants, delicately placing his hand at the nape of your neck as you quicken your pace. “That’s it. That’s my good girl.” 
His praise spurs you to flatten your tongue against his cock, working your magic until his hips rise to meet your every movement. 
Saliva drips from the corners of your lips as his sounds of pleasure intensify, thighs shuddering around you. His brows knit, face contorting in ecstasy as you gag around him. 
“Faen… I- I’m,” Loki manages to say through gritted teeth, chin pointing up to the heavens before his hips jerk once, twice – a strangled groan echoing around the chamber as he spills into your mouth. 
When his hand falls from your head, you slowly pull off of him, sitting back on your heels to admire the view before you. 
He’s still hard, and you already miss the weight of him on your tongue, but the flush of pink on his cheeks and the thin sheen of perspiration on his brow, along with the ragged rise and fall of his chest, assures you he’s properly sated – for the next few minutes, at least. 
“Get up here, woman,” he instructs, eyes twinkling as he guides you to his lap. As you straddle his waist, Loki’s head tilts to the side, an expression of absolute reverence that no one – save for you – ever bears witness to on his handsome face. 
“I love you.” It’s a whispered incantation on your skin, his cool breath sparking a yearning that burns brighter than any star in the night sky. Surely this must be what Valhalla feels like.
You open your mouth to respond – to tell him you’d unquestionably journey to the ends of the universe and beyond with him – but the passion burning in his eyes compels you to kiss him again. You delight in the small whimper he makes when you bite his bottom lip, rolling your hips against him in response. Loki deepens the kiss as you comb your fingers through his dark curls. It’s surprising that he allows you to continue your search for friction as you grind into him, but just as you’re nearing the edge of bliss, he pulls away, stilling your motions with his hands as you whine in protest. 
The glow from the hearth illuminates his dimples as he grins up at you before playfully swatting your ass.
“You know, I don’t believe you ever actually begged,” Loki says, turning his head to leisurely kiss along your inner wrist. “We’re going to have to rectify that.” 
“Is that a threat or a promise, your highness?” 
Truthfully, you aren’t sure which prospect excites you more, but without warning you’re in motion, a small shriek escaping you as the prince lifts you, his hands gripping the back of your thighs. 
Loki pretends to ponder your question as he lays you gently on the sofa, his practiced fingers dipping between your legs. 
“I promise you this, my love: You’ll be begging for release before the night’s end.”
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