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tteokdoroki · 1 year

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Denji blushes when you hold his cock hand

☆༉ — DENJI. pretty boy.

about. let’s pretend this ask isn’t years old but yeah actually he does omg :( !! started writing this ages ago but finished for @miguelism mwah <3

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact. characters aged up to 20s, smut, nsfw, handjobs, exhibitionism, praise kink, college!au, gn!reader, roommate!denji.

“denji…”

“uhuh— i mean, uh, yeah?”

“has anyone told you, you’ve got such a pretty cock?”

you feel the entirety of denji’s length twitch within your hold— his head full of sunshine blonde hair falling back on the wall you’ve caged him against. your fingers are soft, pillowy around his thick shaft and your thumb presses to his leaky slit curiously, watching his face for a reaction. “y-you’d be the first…ah—fuck!” denji whimpers, golden brown eyes falling away from the world as you give your wrist an experimental flick, testing the waters on what you can do to him. “that’s nice…that’s real nice.”

you giggle, his precum oozing into the seat of your palm the more you start to jerk him off in the right space of aki’s bathroom. “yeah? i want you to feel good, denji.” you doubt that your roommates would want to be woken up by slick sounds and whiny whistle tone moans, so you step forward and reach out into the dark— pressing your lips against your boyfriend’s in a slow, syrupy kiss.

it’s adorable how he chases the warmth of your mouth, like a moth drawn to a candle flame, when you pull away to check the door only briefly. “come back, baby…please,” he pleads while he feverishly fucks your hand as if he’ll never get the chance to do so again. “feels good when you’re close…when you kiss me ‘n you use…shit, y-your t-tongue on me!” pleading turns to soggy, pathetic whimpers that are muffled by your tongue as you push your way back into denji’s mouth to shut him up.

you make denji feel like he’s going fucking insane, desire ripping through is chest, lewd squelching noises from his cock bleeding arousal all over your hand overlaying his soundtrack of moans and tongue lapping over tongues. opaque white slings around your knuckles as it drips from his creamy tip, only serving to guide your fist up and down his throbbing a little easier — as if it were a makeshift flesh light.

he really is so cute like this — pliant and needy underneath you, his body seizing up at your sensual ministrations and his skin shiny with sweat under the moonlight. the chainsaw devil can’t help but hiccup loudly despite how you pacify him with sweet, loving smooches. tears slip down the apples of his cheeks and track salt along your tongue too where they land at the corner of denji’s mouth. “you look so pretty with your cock in my hand,” praise for denji comes easily to you — he deserves to be cherished, to know that he’s good and loved. squeezing the base of his length, you push your thumb through his seedy slit just to see him cry, circling his bright red and mushroomed cockhead in order to lube him up more.

a pink flush blossoms across the expanse of his milky skin with every pump of his dick and his his head falls back against the wall with a dull thud. you lick your lips at the sight of his adam’s apple bobbing and his body shuddering, revealing to the naked eye just how desperate denji truly is.

“do you think you could cum for me, denji?”

the stutter in his hips tells you the answer, but you want a verbal one anyways — so for a moment, you stop palming his dripping wet cock and wait for his response.

“well?”

“please, i can do it,” he pants, eager to please — his honey brown eyes crazed and delirious. “j-just call me pretty again. ‘nd i promise i’ll—“

even with his back pressed right up against the wall and his shoulders quivering in anticipation of his impending high — denji still towers over you. so you stand on your tippy toes, languidly flicking your wrist to get him off, in order to whisper your command into the shell of his ear. “make a mess for me, pretty boy.” you simper, mouth falling open to mock his moans like you’re right on the edge with him.

denji cums with a shout and his release spills into your spoiled palm like a stream of molten igneous rock, painting your knuckles a gooey white. you have to cover his mouth with your remaining hand, muffling any sounds that escape him since his brain quite literally short circuits, reducing the poor blonde to nothing but tears and brainless babbles.

you do your best to keep him quiet while he twitches through the aftershocks — after all, it would be a shame if some else got to see your pretty boy blushing with his cock out.

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evangelic-echo · 5 months

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ℭ𝔢𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔞𝔩 𝔓𝔲𝔫𝔦𝔰𝔥𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱

Part 2:

Part 1< >Part 3

Only just leaving the pearlescent building you had entered this morning, it was now evening and the sun was visibly disappearing from heaven’s sky as hues of orange and pink start to appear. You hadn’t realised how much time you burned away trying to understand what type of predicament you had been placed in by your superior.

Walking now the opposite way you walked this morning, you were absolutely drained and could not wait to get back home. Where no one could bother you about anything until your next working hours the next following morning.

However once you arrived, you caught a glimpse of a certain grey haired exorcist angel right outside your front door.

“Luteee, what do I owe the pleasure? I never see you without Adam stuck to your hip- Woah what the fuck happend to your arm?!”

You looked down to Lute’s arm with an alarmed expression on your face.

“You wanna know what happend? You’re wondering why I’m not with Adam right now?! He’s fucking dead. Those fuckers in Hell killed him. Stabbed him multiple times with our own fucking weapons.”

You and Lute were never close friends, but always found ourselves in amidst each other’s company due to Adam. Lute was now crying as she was slowly dropping to the floor as you tried to keep her up by holding her up by her uninjured arm, trying to calm her down. Tears brimmed your eyes seeing Lute like this. She was always known to have a temper and being filled with rage, but in this moment all you could see was hurt. She wasn’t screaming in anguish or anything like that, but as she told you what happened her voice was all raspy and hushed, signalling that she had released all that anguish before getting to your door.

Adam most possibly the dearest friend you had up here in Heaven. Being your very first subject and only subject who didn’t subconsciously ruin humanity, you had gotten closer to him when he rose to Heaven after his time on Earth. So to hear you’d never be able to see his face again, or never be able to listen to his stupid sexual jokes again devastated your entire holy being.

You quickly situated Lute on your couch inside your home as she kept on crying. This is probably the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen her. It definitely doesn’t surprise you however, her and Adam were stuck to eachother to the hip ever since Lutes creation as the Lieutenant of the Exorcists, and besides him she had never made an effort to acquaintance herself with the other Angels around her, so you could say you were now the closest thing she had to a friend.

And honestly now you could say the same about her.

You had left Lute out on the couch last night as she was to emotionally unstable to go anywhere else last night, but once you had awoken this morning and went to check on her, she was no where to be seen. She was in no state being on her own this recent after everything. Worried, you tried calling her phone but after multiple voicemails answering instead of her, you quickly shot a message to her wondering if everything was okay. There was nothing else you could do to help her in that moment, especially if she doesn’t want it.

Carrying on with your morning, you had gotten straight to work by formatting all the notes and questions that were answered by Sir Pentious yesterday afternoon and you had to say, considering that he in fact had spent centuries in hell and lived a life full on sin, he was actually a fun guy to be around. A little weird at times, but fun nonetheless.

You were on your last page of notes before you got a knock on your front door. Hoping it may be Lute coming back from abruptly leaving, you rushed to open the door. Instead you found yourself in front of a tiny, flying cherub with an average sized scroll of paper in its hand.

“Miss Y/N, the great- high Seraphim has requested for me to overlay this very important message to you!”

Looking at the tiny thing unamused, you took the scroll from its hand as it flapped his wings to keep being at eye level with you.

“She has requested you attend a last minute meeting about the recent exterminations! The meeting will take place at midday!”

As you read the scroll in your hands you shooed the little creature away, you had never liked those tiny things. Taking its leave you closed your door, sighing as you walked back to your seat. You could already feel the headache coming on and today hadn’t even started.

Reading further down the scroll, you paused and one specific phrase that caught your upmost attention.

Y/N Diava, has been chosen to represent Heaven in this meeting about the most recent extermination, aswell as possible plans for future exterminations with the King of Hell, Lucifer Morningstar.

What.

In 3 hours, you had to find yourself in a meeting room, with Lucifer Morningstar…

The same Lucifer you hadn’t seen in eons.

The same Lucifer who manipulated Eve into biting into the forbidden apple.

The same Lucifer who fell from the Heavens and nearly dragged you down with him.

What. the. fuck.

You found yourself now spam calling Sera’s phone until she decided to finally pick up the phone.

“Y/N.”

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you Sera, when you told me I’d be in charge of the rehabilitation of sinners, I didn’t think you meant meeting with the big boss the next fucking morning”

There was a long pause on the other side of the line. You can admit that it had been a while since you snapped like this at a superior, but after the shitty 12 hours you’ve had, that was the last thing on your mind right now.

“I thought you could handle it. You said yourself you had moved on, or did I miss hear?”

“I did say I can handle it. I can handle it. But I would’ve preferred if you gave me some extra time to prepare, maybe at least a 24 hour notice would be helpful!”

Your sarcastic tone goes unnoticed.

“Well a lot has changed since our meeting, the exorcists came back without Adam and half their fleet dead! I need you to figure out what happened, and one thing that is for sure is that they do not need to know that redemption for sinners is possible! Is that clear?”

Of course she didn’t want them knowing, she doesn’t want anyone even up here knowing a sinner can overcome divine judgement and reside here in heaven with the rest of us.

“ I had things on the books Sera! I think you’ve forgotten I’m also the singular person here in heaven that overlooks the 8 billion souls that inhabit Earth.”

“I took it upon myself to free your schedule for today, I want you to get down to the bottom of what prompted hell to fight back against us after all these years.”

You paused for a moment, as you then started to wonder the same thing. Sure we were basically killing all the souls down there for no reason, but we had been doing it for centuries, so why now decide to fight back?

“Oh, and Y/N?”

You hummed in response to see what else the Seraphim wanted with you, her change in tone peaking your interest.

“I heard about Adam, I am very sorry for your loss.”

The breathe that you inhaled got stuck in your throat as you were reminded of Adam. Tears threatening to fall from your eyes as you looked down to your phone.

“Thank you Sera, I’ll have notes of the meeting to you by tomorrow.”

And with that you hung up the phone. It was weird hearing Sera have any sort of sympathy towards you, it almost had you questioning if it was really her on the phone you were speaking to. You angled your head up to the sky to stop the risk of tears falling from your eyes, knowing that once they fell there would be nothing you could do to hold them back, and you had a very important meeting with the King of Hell in the next hour…

You were now stood in front of the Embassy, you had never been here before but you were certain this was the link between Heaven and Hell. Stepping inside, the first thing you saw was a front desk made out of pure white marble with the same cherub that was knocking on your door this morning.

“There you are! You’re two whole minutes late! Get in there already!”

He pushes your shoulders towards the nearest door.

“Now hold on a minute-”

But he doesn’t let you finish as he fully pushes you through, making you stumble a bit once you entered the room.

Now panicking as you were just forced into a room with the King of Hell, fucking embarrassing yourself as the first time he’s seen you in eons was you tripping over yourself as a tiny ass angel-

Wait.

He’s not here?

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as instead of seeing Lucifer sat at the conference table in front of you, you saw a young, pale, blonde haired girl wearing a red tuxedo with two red dots over her dimples.

God, she looked exactly like her father.

A/N: Guys thank you so much for the likes omg we’ve gotten over a 100 likes altogether!! And now I’m officially starting a tag list so if you want to be included just comment.

Tag list: @froggybich

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

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The Sticking Point 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, possible violence, illness, death, bullying, ableism, and other elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are sent in the place of your ailing sister to marry a stranger. (Regency AU)

Character: Loki

Note: I'm moving tomorrow.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The tension turns roiling. Even in such airy halls, you cannot escape it, not that you venture very far from your rooms. It seems with each interaction, your relationship with your fiance only grows more fraught. You needn’t wonder why. It’s the very same reason your own father regards you with derision. You’re defective, less than what he hoped for.

You sit in the window seat, looking over the greenery that reflects Jade Garden’s title. It’s a home anyone would covet and yet it feels as a penitentiary might. These walls are unyielding and the isolation suffocating.

Your visions drifts into the distance as the leaves turn to green smears blending into the dimming blue of the sky. You close your eyes and turn your head straight, leaning against the wall as you hook your arms around your legs.

A banquet. It’s less than a proper debut. You’re not certain anyone would be expecting you, or even know who you are. Will they be surprised when they hear your father’s name?

There are things you know. Things you must ready yourself for. Certainly, there will be jeers, mocking whispers, and errant giggles. Just the same as anyone ever reacted to you. Even the farmhands would echo your speech and laugh bawdily. It hardly matter’s your a lord’s daughter when you sound so ridiculous.

You hang your head and sigh. It isn’t just one banquet, it is the beginning of a lifetime of events. You will not only face this one night, but many anon. You will be the one they speak of behind their hands and the joke at the card tables.

You stand, made restless by your dread. The window darkens with the evening’s arrival. Doreen raps at the door and leaves a tray of supper. You pick at it but don’t eat much. You must keep yourself busy so your mind is not.

You go to your chests. You will need Doreen to unpack these soon. It’s as if the longer you leave them full, the less assured your fate. You might still strap them up and flee.

You know that isn’t truly an option.

You take out a gown the shade of cooked pumpkin with an overlay that lends it a bronzish hue. The bodice is trimmed with an eyelet effect and the hem of the cap sleeves and skirt finely threaded with beads. You lay it out on the chaise and find a pair of slippers to go with it and ribbon for your hair decorated with black onyx and brass.

If Edith could see you then. It should be her in your place. That thought rings louder and louder, bolstered by the constant disapproval.

You back away from your attire, spinning so you won’t have to look upon it. You never thought to miss home so much. Not your parents, you’re certain they hardly grieve your absence, but for the familiarity, for the simple walls and memories. Edith is there, even gone, you know you would see her in every cushion and every corner.

You go to the door and listen. As silent as ever. You emerge into the corridor and make careful progress on the pads of your feet. You come to the top of the stairwell and peer down on the foyer. For all it’s beauty, this place is rather grim.

You descend and let your eyes lead you. You take in every ornament, every statue, every door trim, and every tile of the floor. You want to know it all. You don’t want to feel so lost.

You find your way along to the sunroom. Upon your approach, the door opens and you falter. A lithe figure emerges. You press yourself to the wall, unready for Loki’s appearance. He has a snifter of liquor in hand as he glowers in the light of a lantern in his other.

He steps towards you and pauses, lifting the light higher to cast over you. His breath escapes him derisively. He lowers the lantern and sniffs.

“Like a rat, you skitter incessantly,” he remarks.

“My Lawd,” you push away from the wall and angle away from him.

“I am speaking to you. Do not go until I give leave to,” he demands.

You stop and face him again, hands meeting in apprehension.

“This banquet business,” his nostrils flare, “I will not be humiliated. Not as you have tonight.”

“My Lawd, I have been twained in etiq—etiqwette,” you insist.

He scoffs, “your manners hardly bother me. Certainly you might have some grain of awareness.”

You seal your lips. He’s said it plainly, as you have. He might be able to close his ears to your impediment but it is with you always.

“Perhaps you might keep your words to a minimum,” he advises, “select them wisely.”

You stare at him, cheeks fiery and eyes tinging, “If you would wather, I might make an excuse. A sudden malady, my lawd. I’d hate to stain your chawacter.”

His eyes roll to the side and his features sharpen, “more would be said were I to appear without my betrothed after my mother’s promises.”

That he has referred to your nuptials is not so nice as it should be. He speaks to it as a sentence. You look him in the face.

“It won’t eva go away,” you say.

“Hm, I only need get through the wedding night,” he retorts and you can’t help but wince.

You swallow, your hurt turning bitter. “As do I.”

His head tilts and he squints. He lets out another snort, “pardon?”

“My sista would’ve hated you,” you whisper. “You did not desawve to know haw.”

“Be wary,” he steps closer.

“You make an enemy of me, not I you,” you lift your chin.

He’s silent. He shifts even closer. So near, you have to keep from wilting away. You stare back at him defiantly, heart beating.

“You do not know yet what it is to have me as an enemy so you best mind your mannaws,” he mocks your cadence with his last word.

Your lip trembles as he green eyes sparkle like dark emeralds in the lantern lights. Your chest is a flurry of hurt and anger. What have you ever done to him, or anyone, to make them so spiteful? You swing your arm against his to knock the snifter from his hand, sending a splash of alcohol across the wall and and his vest. The smell is acrid and sour.

You back away from him, horrified at your reaction. You have learned to restrain yourself, to tamp it all down, to swallow it with a smile and say nothing. In that moment, you simply cannot. You shake your head as your face twists in despair.

“I would wather an enemy, saw,” you hiss, “as I would be ashamed to call a cad like you husband.”

His glare flashes and he sways as if he might lunge at you. He rights himself and his brow arches. His lips draw and his cheeks pale.

“Very well.”

He spins on his heel and stomps away, the light limning his silhouette sinisterly. You stare after him mortified. What has come over you? You were never bold or brazen or brutal to any. Edith would be disappointed. A gentle soul like her could never even think a hot word.

You fall back against the wall and clutch your hands over your chest. Is this to be your life? Are you to live in loathing, not only of that man but of yourself. To be castigated for the lilt of your own tongue, the very pulse of your existence? You’d thought your father a villain but this man has proven himself worse.

Worst than his distaste is your own futility, for he has assured you there is nothing you might do to appease him. As he is bound to you most miserably, so are you vowed to the same fate. Not even in that might you commiserate.

🔹

You sit in front of the mirror, holding the brooch over the table, feeling the embroidery with the pad of your thumb. You turn it over and back again. It’s the only piece of your sister you have left. Every day she feels further away from you. Every morning, you awake, expecting to hear her, to see her, and she is not there, and you are not at home.

You peer up at your reflection as your hand hovers over the painted wood. You’ve not touched a tress or cheek. You must ready, you know it, but your reticence is like chains on your wrists. You know what you are to face but knowing cannot make it any less unpleasant.

A knock comes at the door. You call for the maid to enter, thinking Doreen’s come to remind you again of your pending engagement. The maid opens the door but says nothing, letting in the duchess instead. Lady Frigga is almost rapturous in a dressing gown of peach fabric as her hair is set already in tight curls around an elegant chignon. You stand, apologising for your misstep.

“Dear, it is quite forgivable,” she assures, “I only meant to look in on you before the banquet, to be certain you do not require anything, but darling, oh,” she sweeps towards you and cups your cheeks, “you’ve not even begun. What is the matter?”

“There is no issue,” you lie, “I mewely let time escape me.”

You smile and gently pull away, turning back to the vanity. You open your hand and once more consider the pin.

“Is this the dress you mean to wear?” Frigga asks as she crosses the room in a swish of silk. You peer over your shoulder as she looks down on the orange fabric. “It is a rather keen shade.”

“Yes, my lady,” you answer in a dulcet tone. You cannot find a glimmer of concern for your attire.

She sighs and returns to you, holding the ribbon you’ve chosen, “these are far too dour,” she touches an onyx, “haven’t you some pearls?”

“Somewhaw...” You bend your neck, staring at the bluebird, at Edith’s handiwork. You remember the day she gave it to you and the way she smiled so proudly. How she pinned it on you herself and made you go around and show all.

“Oh, dear, that won’t go at all. It would be nice for a lunch, no doubt, but not for a banquet,” she remarks and you close your hand around the brooch. You put your shoulders straight and face her.

“I have a pawl band in my chest,” you resign and step around her.

You go to the chest and sift around, careful not to let the brooch slip from your grasp. You take out the pearls on the ivory band and show it to her. She tuts.

“It won’t go with this gown,” she insists.

“Yes, the onyx--”

“Mmp, I prefer pearls. Darling, you must be your best. It is your first social appearance. I do not say this to demean you, only to assist. I know your own mother cannot be here to see you debut but I cannot imagine her pain at this moment. So much loss. Both daughters at once, in a way,” she bemoans.

Yes, you think of your mother too. You know she won’t be well. Nor your father. All their hopes and dreams dashed in a deficient daughter sent to carry a legacy on with a spiteful husband who mightn’t even have the stomach to deliver one.

“I vewy much appweciate it, lady,” you make yourself smile, “I suppose it must be nawvs.”

“Suppose it must,” she hums, “how about you wear the orange gown and I fetch you a feather pin from my own collection? I have a fabulous ostrich and topaz piece,” she assures, “and some black lace gloves. Ooh, yes, dear, we will make certain all is perfect.”

“Thank you, Lady Fwigga, but it isn’t necessawy--”

“You are to be my daughter, of course it is,” she preens. “Besides, who shall notice anything but how splendid you look?”

She twists on her heel and your smile dwindles. You know what is meant. What she will not state plainly. Perhaps a fine outfit might distract from your crooked consonants. You sit on the stool again and watch her go.

Even those who are kind cannot help their thoughts. She mightn’t be cruel about it, but you can hear the disappointment in her pandering cooing. You are not the daughter she wanted just as you are not the wife her son wanted. Just as you do not want to be as you are.

#the sticking point #loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #regency au #mcu #marvel #thor #avengers

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yeseve · 1 year

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Mars Synastry in the Houses

Mars in the 1st house overlay: I see you. I want you.

It's impossible not to notice when you walk through the door. My eyes follow your movements, and my body reacts to you. I can't deny how much your presence impacts me. Mars in the first house represents an immediate and intense attraction, where both sides easily catch each other's attention. The Mars person typically takes the initiative, likely being captivated by the house person and their mannerisms. Meanwhile, the house person may be drawn to Mars' active and direct energy or desire a more balanced dynamic. Mars in the first house in synastry often indicates 'love at first sight,' leading both individuals to come together quickly. In cases of platonic attraction, one of them may easily get annoyed with the other, potentially leading to power struggles.

"You had me at hello." - Jerry Maguire (1996).

youtube

Note: Synastry can vary significantly depending on the zodiac sign and its aspects. For a more in-depth analysis of a specific placement, you can either ask me or explore the option of a full synastry reading that I offer.

#synastry #mars in 1st house #mars synastry #astrology #synastry overlays #mars synastry overlay #mars in houses #Youtube

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btsbabe7 · 5 months

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Coffee Beans (love you a latte)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: After a sudden breakup, you find yourself reuniting with your estranged best friend over lattes in a small coffee shop.

Sebastian sits next to you in the corner of a tiny coffee shop in London, his lanky frame barely filling out the spine of the chair. His fingertips tap against the burning porcelain cup nestled between his palms, the steam curling from the top of the cup in a ghastly swirl. He stares down at it in a sleepy daze, perplexed about why he’s here after you’d successful banished him for six months for the sake of your Gryffindor boyfriend, Garreth Weasley.

The silver-charmed bell nailed to the worn door of the tucked away coffee shop had ding-donged upon your arrival, coming to a halt seconds after the warmth of late Spring rolled in with you. Sebastian hadn’t as much as uttered a hello when you’d greeted him at the edge of the sticky counter upon your arrival in your own tone of weariness. He had barely glanced at you to take in your new shoulder length curls and freshly cut bangs, nor the healing of the scar left behind on the right side of your neck after your battle with Ranrok. The battle had been a year ago. The hair cut, only a couple days old. Surely he’d noticed your fading scar in the passings in the corridors or when he’d catch Garreth consoling you after a long day during dinner in the Great Hall. But he hated it, you know he hates it all.

“Seb—“ you whisper, starting slow, softly.

“Does he know you’re here?” He interrupts, eyes low and focused on the frothy milk overlaying his coffee.

You sputter softly, attempting to swallow a scoff, but knowing the question is valid. You’re the one that stopped hanging out with Sebastian. It felt appropriate once you realized Garreth’s request wasn’t entirely unreasonable.

The smell of freshly poured coffee beans and the humming of the expresso machine pulls your attention for a moment. The distant clinking of a spoon hitting the wall of a porcelain cup, the tear of a sugar packet or two, the frothing sound of whipped cream topping a to-go order, a soft piano melody flowing throughout the space. You think of Garreth alone in his dorm right now, using the quiet to think up whatever scenarios that ransack his brain whenever you two part.

“He doesn’t.”

A smug smirk appears on the corner of his lips, then falls back into a pensive pout. He shuffles in his seat, slowly opening up to you, chest coming into view first. His eyes roam over the empty tables beyond you, then you as if they’ve waited years to do so, and your shoulders shrink in relief.

Gazing back at him, you can’t believe you’d actually gone a full minute without engaging with your best friend. You must’ve been cursed to have gone a full six months with no contact, aside from passings in the hallway and the Great Hall. In the realization of it all, you’re thankful he hasn’t changed, not one bit, and you’re eager to pick up where you’d left off. At least in this moment, you believe you are.

“What’s my mortal enemy up to this time, if not courting you over breakfast? You two snog so much over morning pumpkin juice that the thought alone makes me want to hurl.”

Your cheeks burn hot at the thought of Sebastian seeing you kiss Garreth—watching, so much that it bothers him, haunts his thoughts and makes him sick to his stomach when he’s not even around.

“Garreth’s Garreth… You know, concocting strange inventions and attempting to find subjects to test them on. But that’s not why you agreed to come, not to speak about him...”

“I still don’t understand it all,” he starts. “He knows I’ve been in your life long before you saved that damned school. We were the best of friends, closer than Ominis and I. That was a threat to him and he deliberately complained that I was trying to steal you from him. Why?”

You avoid his eyes, once again knowing he’s right. Yet, Sebastian always manages to dismiss the events leading up to the main issue.

“Seb—“

He takes a long sip of his latte and readjusts, leaning back against the spine of the rattan chair before meeting your eyes again.

“Sebastian, he saw you kiss me…”

His cheeks turn as red as the cherry tomatoes in his uncle’s garden back in Feldcroft. As the realization settles in, there’s a long silence between the two of you. Had Sebastian not kissed you knowing you were still dating Garreth at the time, you wouldn’t have had to wedge so much distance. His excuse of drinking too much Butterbeer wasn’t a good enough explanation and Garreth had given you the ultimatum. You’d never seen him so upset. And as much as you wanted to defend Sebastian, your best friend, he was being reckless, jealous and territorial over something that didn’t belong to him. Even you couldn’t hide from that truth.

“I don’t regret it,” he says curtly, words cutting through your thoughts like a freshly sharpened dagger. “I would’ve kissed you a hundred times more had you not carved me out. Garreth doesn’t know you. He wasn’t there. He was working on dumb potions and those damned trick jellybeans while you and I were out there in the real world. Fighting goblins, trying to find a cure for Anne, piecing together Isidora’s triptych... We were risking our lives while he dallied around playing games. He’s never put his life on the line for you, Y/n.”

You scoff loudly, cheeks burning as hot as the untouched cup in front of you. You hate that he’s right every single time, but that means nothing right now. You liked Garreth. You loved his immaturity, his view of seeing some things in life differently. He showed you that everything didn’t always need to be taken seriously and Sebastian didn’t respect it.

“After Ranrok, Garreth was there.”

“Damn right he was,” Sebastian curses. “He was there like the rest, groveling at your feet after you’d saved the entire school. Everyone showered you in false love and compliments. I’ve loved you from the start.”

Your heart wrenches.

Not once has Sebastian admitted to loving you, ever. There were hints, signs. He was around so much that he’d practically become your shadow. He’s become more familiar than the lines on your palms or the spells you’d practiced endlessly into perfection. Your partnership in Crossed Wands and helping him find a cure for his sister had turned into a quickly blossoming friendship. You’d even found yourself thinking of him late at night when you should’ve been focused on planning for the doom that crawled closer— Rookwood, Ranrok, untamable ancient magic, the list could go on and on, but all you could think about was Sebastian Sallow.

A part of you was relieved when he’d asked you to dance at Natty’s party; you needed a moment away from Garreth, a moment to breathe. Though, you never expected Sebastian to take your breath away. You still remember the heavy smell of spiked Butterbeer on his lips, the sweet, thick taste of butterscotch and the scent of burnt timber lingering between you two. He’d been practicing Confringo again in the Undercroft beforehand. And the kiss felt like a dream, pulling everything you’d ever felt about him into a neat package with a shiny green bow. You just hadn’t expected Garreth to see it. And when he did, he knew Sebastian had to go, even if it killed you.

“We broke up,” you finally find the courage to speak.

That’s the reason you’d sent your white-feathered owl, Nora, to Sebastian two nights ago. Two days more without him felt like an eternity and you weren’t sure he’d show after all this time. You’d only hoped.

“I’m not surprised. You wouldn’t be here had it not happened, you’re too loyal. Maybe my tiny presence in your life of seeing you in passings has become too unbearable. He’d have me exiled if it were up to him.”

“I mean… I broke up with him. Six months was too long, Sebastian, and you didn’t even try to weasel your way back in. You just—you just let me go. You made it look so easy.”

“Easy!? Have I not suffered enough? Put myself on the line for you so many times? And need I remind you, you chose Weasley over me? That was your doing, Y/n,” he rants. “Looks can be deceiving, but I knew you’d come back. That’s what happens to the things we lose that are meant to be. And in those six months, I suffered, endlessly. Ominis could hardly stand my sulking much more before Nora showed with your letter. To think, all the times he told me I should admit how I felt, even during those six months, I didn’t listen. I didn’t want to ruin your perfect relationship with Garreth, or rather, I couldn’t. You would’ve hated me. I’m stubborn like you’ve said before, but I know, truly, that I’ve loved you and I still do now. No dumbwitted Gryffindor can change that.”

You can’t take it anymore, the racing of your heart, the heaviness of abandoning him. You couldn’t be with Garreth when your heart and soul craved Sebastian. You broke Garreth’s heart to be here, but that was something you could live with. Abandoning Sebastian wasn’t. It pulled and tugged at you in the worst and best of times. It haunted you when you were alone, when you were kissing Garreth, when he’d stay the night to cuddle in your dorm. Your mind had always gone back to the reckless, brown eyed, freckle faced Slytherin right in front of you.

“I love you too, you know?” You mutter nonchalantly, hoping the words don’t go straight to his skull. “I think it was destined to happen, the day we met… when we dueled in Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

He smiles charmingly, attempting to hold back a smirk and a teasing laugh at the distant memory. Because why wouldn’t you have fallen for him? His sarcasm, charms, and good looks were always there.

“I really knew when you opened up to me about your sister,” you continue. “When you realized you could do the important things without me, yet you still wanted me there. Even when it went against your best friend or your better judgment. You allowed me to see you, all of you. All the good and bad, Sebastian, and I love every single part of you.”

Sebastian’s eyes meet yours again, heavy, tired, and holding back tears. He’s missed you more than you’ll ever know, probably more than you missed him since you had Garreth to fill the void. Your voice, he missed the most. Your laughter, your deadpan humor and crappy puns. He missed the way you smelled, some muggle perfume you’d spritz yourself with in the mornings that made you smell of fresh flowers, a charm followed that you’d found in a book to make it last all day. He missed the way your skin and hair glistened in the moonlight when you’d both sneak out to fly broomsticks to Hogsmeade for a Butterbeer or two while the others slept. He missed practicing in the Undercroft with you, and Ominis lecturing him on the way back to the dorms about how he could feel the love in the air. He missed the warmth of you lying your head in his lap to vent to him under the old beech tree near Black Lake. He’d fallen in love with the sight of golden speckles reflecting in your irises when the branches began to sway just right with the breeze, exposing your features to the sun’s rays. He missed your smile, your lips, the way you’d tie your robe at your waist instead of wearing it. He missed and loved all of you. And he can’t fight the urge anymore. The heaviness of his own heart won’t let him, not with you this close, and not knowing that you’re no longer accounted for.

“We should get out of here, others might report back that you’ve gotten over your heartbreak rather quickly. Wouldn’t want that getting back to that poor Gryffindor of yours.”

“He’s not mine anymore,” you grumble and pinch Sebastian’s arm with a giggle. “But you’re right, we should go.”

“You still have that Room of Requirement? I think a single bed will suffice.”

You roll your eyes, holding back a giggle at his obviousness.

“We’ll go to my dorm first,” you reply before pecking a quick kiss on the corner of his lips that leaves his cheeks blushing. “Then, we’ll see if we truly require the room.”

He takes your hand in his right and leads you out of the tiny coffee shop. The silver bell ding dongs against the door once more, ushering you both into the warmth of spring. And with a smile on his face, he’s ready to apparate anywhere in the world, as long as you promise to remain by his side.

Please be sure to check out my other latest fics:

⚡︎ November Prompt Challenge (days 1-30)

⚡︎ For You Always - reader x Snape

~ Navi: masterlist (all fandoms)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction, but please don’t copy! Written purely for fun :) Please only repost to other socials w/my permission and credit! Reblogging w/credit is fine. Thank you! ♡

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