#shawn oneshot | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starburstsamo · 15 days ago

Text

think we're alone now; beating of our heart is the only sound

pairing: sammy bryant x f!reader

warnings: ben's little sister!reader, so like... brother's best friend!au vibe, but it's brother's partner!au... you know what i mean?; smut - oral (m and f!receiving), fingering, soft dom!sammy, unprotected sex, a little bit of choking, praise kink i guess, cum eating; secret relationship, a pinch of angst, and fluffffff

summary: for certain reasons, you have always avoided dating cops. but one time, you make an exception, and this exception so happens to be your brother's partner.

w/c: around 11k

a/n: another love letter from: me, to: sammy bryant.

You moved back to Los Angeles after you got tired of the cool and wet city of Seattle. Not only did you miss the weather, you also missed the things that came with it – the beach, the surfer community, the colors and fewer depressing days, chilling in the car when you were stuck in traffic… And you would never admit it to him, but you missed your brother too. Just a little.

You also loved this. Standing in the middle of a coffee shop and studying the new promo drinks, even though you knew you were going to end up getting your usual. Well, you supposed you could do that in Seattle too, but it didn’t make you so giddy there.

“I hear their white chocolate mocha is pretty good.”

You jumped a little at the voice before you turned to the source. Your eyes were met with a dark-haired man sporting a police uniform and a drink of his own.

“Is that what you got?” you asked, pointing at the to-go cup.

“No way,” he said, waving the cup in the air as he chuckled, “I’m too boring for that. I’m a regular, black coffee kinda guy.”

You nodded with a smile, turning your head back to the menu board. “You and me both.”

The officer’s brows furrowed, one of his fingers lifting from the surface of his cup and pointing it at you. “You must be the prettiest regular, black coffee kinda guy, then.”

You bit your cheek, side-eyeing him as you tried to stifle the smile that was creeping up on you. There was no way this guy was making your cheeks flush.

“I’m Sammy,” he introduced himself, passing his coffee from his right hand to the left, offering his palm to you. You shook it and told him your name. “Are you new to the area?”

“No. Well, yeah.” Sammy’s brows shot up at the contrasting words. “Kinda both. I just moved here from Seattle, but I grew up in LA,” you explained and Sammy gave you a nod.

“So, would it be too bold to ask for your number?”

You bounced on your feet, considering it. He was cute. And he was funny. But he was a police officer, for God’s sake. You only trusted a handful of those.

“I’m sorry,” you said apologetically, scrunching your face, “I don’t date cops. No offence.”

Sammy’s confident smile was replaced by a defeated one, the wrinkles around his eyes staying in place, although the spark disappeared.

“Okay, that’s fair. May I ask why? If it’s the uniform, I promise I never bring it on a date. Or home. Unless I need to wash it, of course.”

You chuckled, tipping your head down for a split second and Sammy followed your eyes with a tilt of his head.

“My brother is a cop. So it’s just… You know.”

Sammy didn’t know, not really, but he nodded anyway. He didn’t have any right to pry. You surely had your reasons. But…

“Well,” Sammy took out his notepad and scribbled down his number, “if there’s any type of emergency,” he tore the paper out and handed it to you, “or if you change your mind about dating cops, this is where you can reach me. One cop is enough, actually.”

Shit. He was charming. You took the paper and folded it in half, stuffing it in your pocket and thanking him.

“Enjoy your coffee,” he said and then he was on his way.

“No, I’m telling you, she liked me,” Sammy attempted to convince Ben, bouncing his thumb against the steering wheel.

“Sammy. 'I don’t date cops, because my brother’s one of them'? That’s the lamest excuse I have ever heard. She probably just wanted to let you down easily.”

The corner of Sammy’s mouth quirked upwards, frowning as he tried not to let Ben get to him.

“Whatever, man. She took my number, alright? I’m keeping my hopes up.”

As much as it pained you, you honestly couldn’t stop thinking about the police officer you met at the coffee shop.

You hated it when people made you reconsider your values, especially men. You felt like a hypocrite. But Sammy didn’t seem cocky, didn’t really use his rank to pick you up. Didn’t push when you told him no. And he was handsome. The truth is, you'd probably say yes right away if he wasn't wearing the uniform. So maybe you shouldn’t be so uptight and pigeonhole him.

You searched your pants for the piece of paper he gave you, taking your phone into your other hand as you held the items side by side, typing in the number. Then you pressed dial.

Beep.

“Bryant,” sounded from the other side, the voice deeper than you remembered.

“Um, hi. Is this Sammy? We met at the coffee shop the other day,” you said, reminding him of your name.

“Oh, yeah! Hi. Did something happen?”

“Well, yes. I’m in the middle of changing my mind about dating cops. You think you can help with that?”

You heard a soft laugh over the line.

“I don’t know. What does it entail?”

“I’m about to go for a stroll along the beach. Maybe get something to drink from one of those beach bars. So, I thought you could join me if you’d like and tell me about the pros and cons.”

Sammy agreed and one and a half hour later, you were walking on the pier with slushies in your hands. To be honest, your preconceptions were building up anticipation inside of you that made you tense almost throughout the whole date. You were just waiting for the moment he’d say something that would repulse you. And with your bias, just a small slip would be enough. But it never really came, or you just missed it and didn't care, because Sammy seemed genuine, confident but humble, and respectful.

He told you about all about him voluntarily stepping down as a detective after his partner had been killed. He didn’t try to hide that it still made him sad to this day, and it tugged at your heart.

The conversation felt natural, and you didn’t even realize it was so late when you circled back to the spot where you met up.

“Let me walk you to your car,” Sammy offered, figuring that you were parked somewhere close.

“Oh, I walked.”

Sammy paused, his eyes meeting yours. “You live nearby?”

“Yeah, like thirty minutes by foot.”

He huffed, his eyes went comically wide as he put a hand on the small of your back and steered you in the direction of his car. “Yeah, okay. I’m driving you home, then.”

“Thank you, but that’s not really necessary.”

“I’m not letting you walk fifteen blocks all by yourself,” Sammy said incredulously.

“Don’t worry, I have my pepper spray. I’m not an amateur.”

“Yeah,” he snorted, “I’m not even gonna tell you how well those things work. Please, let me do this. You don’t really have a choice, because even if you do talk me into letting you walk, I’m just gonna drive next to you until you decide to get your butt inside the car.”

“Is that a threat, Officer? I smell some elements of stalking too.”

“Yeah, well, we should have that nose checked because it seems to miss the real danger,” he said as he opened the passenger door of his car, rising his eyebrows expectantly.

With a roll of your eyes, you got in the car and Sammy carefully closed the door once you were seated.

The ride was short at this time of night. You caught yourself shamefully admiring Sammy’s face a few times, making him rotate his head in your direction when he felt your gaze. He didn’t say anything, though, sparing you any further embarrassment. But you felt the heat in your cheeks, and the butterflies in your stomach were restless too.

“Yeah, this is me.”

Sammy put the car in park and unbuckled his seat belt, leaning his head against the headrest.

“Thanks. I actually enjoyed spending time with you,” you smiled.

“Well, don’t sound too surprised,” he said sarcastically. “So, did you change your mind?”

Sammy’s head was tilted towards you, enough to be inviting, but not enough to invade your space. You glanced out of the passenger window, smiling to yourself before you turned back to him. His eyes flickered to your lips, so quick you’d almost miss it

God, he made you fuzzy for no apparent reason. You wanted to kiss him, to let yourself be pulled in. His front teeth were poking out of his mouth, and it made him look so imperfectly perfect.

“I’m getting there…” you said, thanking him again before getting out of the car.

God. You were actually killing him. But Sammy is nothing if not patient, and he definitely wasn’t counting on getting this far. But you did make his heart beat a bit faster when you glanced at his lips and bit your lip.

As much as you wanted him, this wasn’t you. You didn’t want to act impulsively and make any rash decisions. The date felt good, and you chose to leave it at that for the time being.

“You’re in a good mood today. D’you get laid or something?” Ben smirked at Sammy as they entered the briefing room.

“Or something,” Sammy said with a puffed up chest, sending a smile full of pride in Ben's direction.

“Yeah? Sooo, did the chick from the coffee shop text you?”

Sammy shot him a glance, his cheeks dimpling as his smile grew wider.

“Oh, man,” Ben laughed, patting his partner on the back. “Alright, I stand corrected. Congrats, bro. So, you takin' her out on a date?”

Sammy didn’t tell him that you’d already been on a date, because Ben would be busting his chops about not getting you into bed and he was in a too good of a mood to discuss that with him.

He did tell him that you were going to get some coffee later today and then head to the beach again, because apparently, you preferred spending time outside, which he respected.

Sammy liked spending time with you and didn't care where it was, he liked talking to you. You were sweet, but you didn’t suck up to him, didn’t try to act like you were perfect, didn't hold back, sometimes making his eyes go wide at whatever you said. But in those wide eyes of his, you were kind of flawless.

Actually, he loved going to the beach with you, because your hair shone under the beams and your eyes twinkled every time you looked at him.

Sammy didn’t know that you admired his eyes and his freckles just as much.

He made it a habit to drop you off at your apartment at the end of every date, and he let you set the pace. He was down bad and you must have known that he was dying to kiss you, because he felt like his eyes transformed into beating hearts when he looked at you. And he looked at you a lot.

And one night, when he parked his car in front if your building, you finally let yourself be pulled by them.

Reaching for his face, you leaned over the console and pressed your lips against his, your hand sliding to the nape of his neck and pulling him closer to you so you didn’t have to lean so far.

Sammy kissed you back immediately, his fingers tangling themselves in your hair and angling your head, his seatbelt digging into his chest.

When you scraped your fingernails against his scalp, he groaned, disconnecting your lips while keeping his forehead pressed against yours.

“Do you wanna come in?”

You pressed him against the door as soon as it closed, pulling his jacket off with you following it, sliding down his body and to your knees, impishly putting the jacket under your shins.

Your hands reached for his belt, clinking sounds echoing through the hallway as you unbuckled it before yanking both his pants and boxers down his legs.

Sammy’s hand reached down to your face, stroking his thumb over your cheek when you took his cock into your hands, his thickness stopping your fingers from creating a full circle.

And when you gave the first tug, his head fell against the door with a thud as he exhaled, relishing in the feeling of your soft hands pumping his cock while you let your thumb slide against his slit occasionally.

A moan escaped him when he felt the flat of your tongue drag itself from the base of his cock to the head where you wrapped your lips around him and slid back down as far as you could.

“Shit, you’re such a good girl,” he hissed through clenched teeth as he looked down, and then he felt his cock hit the back of your throat, making you gag, all teary-eyed.

The praise made you moan around him, sending vibrations through his body as you slid off of him, and when you freed his cock from the warmth of your mouth, strings of mixed saliva and precum connected you to his cock. He bent over and grabbed you under your chin, the need to kiss the fluids away overtaking him.

Sammy kissed you hard, manoeuvring your head as he pleased before he pulled you up, grunting out a deep come here.

He stepped out of the clothes that pooled around his feet and picked you up, his arms flexing with the added weight. Sammy didn’t break the kiss, not once, carrying you to your bedroom according to your instructions.

He put you down on your feet in front of your bed, breaking the kiss only to pull his shirt over his head. He smiled at you then, biting his lip when he reached for the hem of your dress and tugged upwards, leaving you in nothing but your black panties.

“So fucking beautiful,” he praised, cupping your breasts with his hands as he kissed you again, his lips traveling over your jaw, down your neck, until he was bent in an uncomfortable position just to latch his lips around your nipple.

He closed his teeth around you, nipping at the stiffened bud and forcing an abrupt moan from your throat, your fingers pulling on his hair and elicitng a groan from him, too.

Sammy stood to his full height again, one arm wrapping around your waist just to pick you up and lay you on the bed. Falling right over you, his hand reached down blindly, tugging on the band of your underwear for too long as he realized that it was impossible to rid you off it from this position, so he knelt up.

Once your panties were successfully discarded, he stayed on his knees and spread yours gently, his chest rising with shallow breaths.

“Already out of breath, Officer?” You had the audacity to tease. “I thought stamina was kind of a requirement in your field of work.”

Sammy scoffed, a smug smile playing on his lips as tugged you by your ankles closer to him, the undersides of your thighs pressed against his strong quads. Pressing his body against your front, he slipped an arm between the small of your back and the mattress and you let your hands fall to his wide shoulders, tracing the freckles there as his eyes raked over your face.

“Don’t poke the bear, sweetheart.”

Before you could retort, you were being flipped over onto your stomach, a gasp escaping your lungs. Sammy removed the pillows that were clearly in his way and instructed you to hold onto the bars of the headboard, situating you into a kneeling position, your back arched.

“Spread your legs wider,” he ordered as he knelt at your side, and you did as he asked. He shuffled on his knees closer to your body, dragging his fingertips down your spine until he reached your tailbone, goosebumps sizzling all over your skin. Then his fingers detoured to the globe of your ass and gave it a firm squeeze.

Your hips tilted on their own, chasing his hand as it ghosted over your skin. Sammy brought his other hand to your neck, wrapping his fingers around your throat and squeezing his thumb against your artery. His nose brushed your temple before he kissed over your cheek, angling your face towards him and kissing your pout away.

He released your lips with a soft smack and shifted on his knees an inch, straightening his posture and adjusting the hold he had on your neck.

Sammy’s other set of fingers finally touched you, lightly brushing over the wetness of your cunt. A shuddering breath released from your mouth when you felt his thumb being pressed into your hole while the rest of his fingers laid flat against your clit, cupping your whole cunt.

“Jesus, how long have you been this wet, hm?”

You whimpered at his words and you were glad that Sammy didn’t wait for an answer. He slipped his thumb out, circling the pond of slickness that was your entrance before he pushed back in and wiggled the finger against your walls.

The pressure was euphoric, the pad of his finger pushing all the right buttons inside of you to make your whole body buzz. His meaty thumb alone was stretching you out so good, and it made you wonder how you were going to take his cock.

You moaned out loud at the thought and let go of one of the bars, bringing your palm to the wrist at your neck, needing to touch him. To feel him. But Sammy, wasn’t having it and as soon as he felt your hand cover his, his movements stopped, his gaze switching from your ass to your face, eyes squinting.

“Put your hand back onto the headboard, or I’ll stop, and you bet your sweet ass that I won’t touch you again.”

Your whole body trembled and you did as he said. He turned your head to him before continuing.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice becoming softer which only made you wetter.

“Yes.”

Sammy gave you a nod and then he shifted again, the hold on your neck disappearing. You felt his palm splayed on your lower back as he pressed down until the back of his other hand hit the softness of your sheets and you were basically sitting on it.

“Fuck yourself on my finger.”

Your head snapped to him. Was he serious?

“What?”

“What? What’s not to understand, sweetheart? Ride my hand. Make yourself cum.”

You blinked, swallowing and returning your gaze to the wall in front of you as you started lifting your hips.

“Thaat’s it. Fuck, you’re swallowing my finger so fucking good.”

You felt awkward in this position, your hips faltering as you tried to pick up the pace. It didn’t help that all that Sammy did was curl his thumb every time you slid all the way down, before lifting your hips again, repeating the motion over and over again.

The next time his thumb was fully sheathed inside of you, you circled your hips, grinding against his fingers and creating a delicious stimulation against your throbbing clit.

“Yeaah, just like that. Look at you, a fucking natural.”

His praises spurred you on, but your movements weren’t enough to make you come. You didn’t have the strength, the speed, nor the leverage to fuck yourself on him, to use him like you really wanted to. You needed more.

“Sammy, please,” you whimpered, stopping your hips. Giving up.

“What? What do you need?”

“I need to cum,” you mewled, wiggling against his hand to relieve some of the ache from your clit.

“Then why did you stop?”

You were speechless. This was the first time your sexual partner was this communicative during sex. This controlling. You didn’t know how to act, and Sammy must have figured it out.

“Aww, does my babygirl need some help? Hm?” Sammy cooed, cupping your face with his free hand, his thumb soothing over your flushed skin as you looked at him with wide eyes. “Is that it? Do you want me to make you cum instead?”

“Mhm.” You nodded and Sammy smiled, all entitled and condescending.

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

Your heart beat faster as you tried not to feel humiliated.

“I want you to make me cum.”

“Good girl.” He brushed your cheek with the back of his fingers, pinching your chin before he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear and sending shivers down your spine. “I’ll let it slide this time, but next time you have some smart-ass comments, I won’t be so nice. Understood?”

Jesus Christ. You actually wondered for a split second what he was capable of doing. You got the urge to test it, but you chose to fight it down.

“Yes.”

And with that, Sammy manhandled you into a position with your ass up, snaking his arm over your back and under your stomach, holding your hips up as he started ramming into your pussy with his thumb, while simultaneously rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves with the four of his fingers.

You still kept your hold on the bars, only now your face was squished against the mattress. Your moans got louder with every glide of his thumb, occasionally slipping it down to your clit and flicking over it before he buried his finger back into your pussy.

Your walls fluttered around him, each stroke against that spongy spot was making your toes curl and soon, you started bucking your hips against his palm.

Sammy worked you up, and with a few more bumps and wiggles against your G-spot, you fell over the edge, orgasm rippling through you as he fingered you until you were reaching behind you and clasping your hand around his wrist with small no more’s.

Sammy took mercy on you, pulling his hand away from your sensitive pussy as he admired your shivering body. He dragged his nails softly against your skin, his cock twitching at the purrs leaving your mouth.

You brought your hips down, lying on your stomach, while Sammy positioned his body on his side, using his forearm to prop himself up. He traced his fingers over your back, drawing random patterns on your skin.

“I’m glad I changed my mind.”

Sammy laughed, his smile forming dimples in his cheeks making him look younger than he was.

“Yeah. Me too.”

When you finally caught your breath, you lifted yourself up, smashing your lips against Sammy’s and crawling over him. You forced him on his back as you threw your leg over his hips, straddling him and rubbing yourself over his hard cock. His hands ran up your thighs, thumbs creating temporary dents from how they dug into the softness of your skin.

He drew in a sharp breath as you kissed him, his eyes half open because he simply couldn’t stop looking at you. You snuck your tongue into his mouth, your fingers grasping his hair when he deepened the kiss by lifting his head from the pillow, trying to assert dominance. But then you angled your lips just right, the head of his cock barely slipping into the warmth of your cunt, but still causing him to moan and throw his head back into the mattress.

“Fuck,” he cursed and then you reached down, straightening your back and positioning him against your entrance properly. Sammy couldn’t tear his eyes off you as you struggled to take him all at once, hissing at the way your tight walls squeezed the shit out of the head of his cock. “Shit, I should have stretched you out first. You’re so fucking tight.” Yeah, his thumb definitely wasn’t enough.

You didn’t respond, too focused on sliding down his cock as painlessly as possible. You were so sexy like this, all desperate to fuck him, with that small crease between your brows and bitten lip. And as much as he was enjoying the view, he didn’t want to hurt you.

“Lie on your back, sweetheart,” he said, ready to flip you over, but you stopped him.

“No! I can do it. I just need a second.”

God, he would slam right up into you if he weren’t scared that he’d break you.

“Christ, you’re being such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

Sammy at least brought his thumb to your clit, massaging it in small circles.

“Yeah,” you agreed mindlessly, making Sammy’s eyes snap to your face. You were so gone already. Only air in your head.

“Yeah,” he sighed, and sucked in his lips as you slid down another inch down, splitting yourself on his cock.

Sammy swore he couldn’t control it when his hips lifted themselves off the bed, just about a millimetre, but it made you mewl anyway.

Your palms braced themselves against his chest, your nails digging into his muscles. He had to remind you to breathe, and the stinging pressure only amplified when you finally slid all the way down, seating yourself against his hips.

Sammy moaned at the feeling, his eyes rolling back as he suppressed the need to buck up into you.

“Good job,” he commended and it was enough for you to lift your hips up, albeit painfully slow. It was easier for you to slide back down this time, your arousal combining with Sammy’s precum and creating a sticky mixture at the base of his cock. “You feel so fucking good. So hot.”

You finally looked away from where you were joined, locking eyes with Sammy’s. They were dark, blown out and full of lust. You lowered your upper body, your breasts pressing against his chest as you kissed him. You circled your hips, and this time, Sammy didn’t hold back, squeezing your hips before gently pressing upwards.

It made you hum into the kiss and he took it as a permission to do it again. Grabbing the flesh of your ass, he bent his knees and planted his feet against the mattress to give himself some leverage. Then he bucked up more forcefully, your body jolting against his and causing your lips to disconnect as you moaned.

He watched your face as he did it again, biting his lip when he saw your eyes roll back. He set a gradual pace, each thrust of his hips sharper than the last, your clit bumping against his pubic bone and applying dizzying pressure against the nub.

The lewd sounds of the slapping skin echoed through the room, combined with the gasps escaping your mouth. Sammy wrapped his arms around the small of your back, keeping you in place as he sped up his movements.

Your cheeks bounced against his snapping hips, and you had to brace yourself on your hands next to his ear, your fingers clutching the sheets.

This position left your breasts hanging close to his face and Sammy took the opportunity to lift his head, catching your nipple into his mouth. He sucked and nibbled as he drove into you, the bedsprings creaking under your bouncing bodies. He felt you spasm around him, your pussy sucking him in with every drag of his cock against your walls. Your cries got louder and his name was falling from your lips like prayer. It almost made him feel like a god.

You arched your back, your belly pressing against the firm muscles of his stomach and with three more thrusts, the coil in your stomach snapped, sending you over the edge.

Sammy started chasing his own orgasm as you shattered around him, riding you through your high with stammering hips. Once he was close, he flipped you on your back and let his cock slip out of your sensitive center, kneeling between your thighs while he pumped himself until he spilled over your stomach. He could’t hold in the moans that escaped him as he watched you getting covered in his cum.

Once his breaths went from shallow to deep again and his cock softened, he lowered himself on his heels.

“Shit, sorry.”

His words made you giggle, partly because of the oxytocin running through your body. A lazy grin appeared on your face. “What are you apologizing for?”

He jerked his head to the side, a knowing look on his face, because it was kind of obvious.

“Where’s your bathroom? Do you have something I can clean you up with?”

“Out the door to the left, there’s a washcloth hanging in the shower.”

Nodding, Sammy got to his feet with an exaggerated groan and it made you giggle again. He glanced at you over his shoulder with a what are you laughing at? look. You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face when you watched him trot butt-naked to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of the birthmark on his cheek.

When he came back, he was already in his boxers, washcloth in one hand and his pants in the other which he threw on the armchair you had in your bedroom. He also returned the pillows to where they belonged under your head, before he wiped away his spent, warmth spreading through you at the gentle touch.

When he came back again, after returning the towel into the bathroom, he threw himself on the bed, his body bouncing next to you.

“Are you alright?” he asked, bringing his hand to cup your face, his fingers playing with the hair by your ear and thumb swiping over your nose.

“Better than,” you smiled and he returned it, looking down in almost a bashful way, before he pecked your lips, releasing them with a gentle pop.

Gazing at each other then, you admired the color of his eyes and the small nose adorned by freckles. He truly was beautiful.

“I gotta go,” he said in a low voice, slurring the words out.

“You gotta?”

“Well…,” he began, the teasing tone returning, but still soft and a little high-pitched. “It really depends on the woman of the house. She has this rule about cops…” he rasped out with a playful roll of his eyes.

“I think she can make an exception.”

“Yeah?” He smiled, moving his face closer to yours and you nodded, repeating the word before he kissed you again. Sammy just couldn’t get enough of you.

Your dates became more frequent and eventually, you started seeing each other on daily basis. Sometimes you went to your place, sometimes you ended up at his. You started going on runs together and planned other activities if you both had free weekends.

Sammy was great, sweet and good-hearted, funny and sometimes fucking annoying. But you ate it all up.

Not to mention that the sex was amazing.

One morning, he had to borrow your brother’s old shirt, because he used his to wipe his cum off your ass and didn’t bring any change of clothes. It was a little tight, but it would suffice for the drive to work.

“I see you finally got style. Your coffee shop girl have something to do with it?” Ben teased when Sammy met him in the locker room, confusion flooding his face. “The shirt, bro. I think I even had the same one. A little out of fashion, but for you–“ Ben clicked his tongue and winked, making an OK sign with his fingers. “Kudos for the tighter fit, too. What’s next? Your hair?”

Normally, Sammy would come up with his own remarks, but all he could do this time was to watch Ben with careful eyes as he put on the white Underarmor shirt, wheels turning in Sammy’s head.

There’s no way.

Sammy changed quickly, throwing the borrowed shirt into his locker with more force than he intended. They did their usual routine, equipping the car with firearms and ammunition and searching for any leftover items from previous shift.

As they rolled out into the streets, Sammy couldn’t stop thinking about it. He should probably text you as soon as he had some time, otherwise his mind wouldn’t give him any rest. On the other hand, what if he found something he didn’t really wish to find out? Would that really help his case? Fuck.

Well, Sammy was restless, too impatient to wait as they cruised through the neighbourhood after responding to a help call.

“So… My sister is still on my ass about basically demoting myself from detective to patrol. It’s been years, and she’s driving me nuts,” Sammy set the bait, and Ben took it immediately.

“Yeah, sisters, man. As if managing their own life wasn’t enough.”

“You have a sister?”

Ben snorted.

“Yeah, man. Three,” he specified. And before Sammy could prod any further, Ben continued. “Actually, one of them just moved back from Seattle. Getting to re-know the city as we speak.”

Sammy’s head snapped to Ben, something close to a scowl pulling the muscles of his face as he stared at his partner over his shades

He forgot he was driving for a second– well, for more than a second, because the next thing he knew, Ben was yelling out his name and reaching for the wheel, steering the car around a cyclist.

“What the fuck, man? You alright?”

Sammy recovered quickly then.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Ben made a note to keep a close eye on his partner for the rest of the shift, but brushed it off for now, going on a rant about wanting to become a detective too and asking Sammy for advice.

Sammy could not wait for the shift to be over. He was panicking and he needed someone to panic with. Except, he doubted that his partner would provide that service since Sammy was sleeping with his little sister. Oh, he was going to dramatically storm into your apartment, he knew it. He should probably give you a heads up.

Well, he didn’t have to.

You were perched on the bench in front of the police station, and when you saw Ben, followed by Sammy, your epiglottis closed up. No way.

When Sammy spotted you, you saw him tip his head back and roll his eyes towards the sky, as if asking some higher power to give him the strength, before he met your gaze again and shook his head subtly.

You didn’t even know what he meant by that, but instead of dwelling on that, you smiled at your brother as he greeted you with a half-hug.

“Alright, Ben, see you tomorrow,” Sammy said, trying to make his escape, but Ben stopped him.

“Sammy, wait.”

Sammy stopped reluctantly, the tip of his tongue prodding at his molars as his eyes flickered to you for a split second. “This is my sister I was telling you about. And this is Sammy Bryant, my partner.”

Sammy stuck out his hand and you took it, his lips quirked up and brows pinched together at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Nice to meet you, Officer Bryant.”

“Likewise.”

Sammy had to give it to you, you definitely looked calmer than he felt. His hand lingered on yours, and Ben was the one to break you up with a nervous laugh.

Sammy was quick to say goodbye, desperate to get out of there, and while you went out for a coffee with your brother, Sammy decided to drive to your place, parking far enough so Ben wouldn’t see his car in case he was taking you home.

With Ben living in Castaic now, too, Sammy didn’t want to risk the chance of him appearing at his doorstep with you on his couch. He was proven today that fate had funny plans for him. Or for you, he wasn’t sure.

He sent you a text of course, informing you he was waiting for you near your apartment. And while stakeouts weren’t his favorite thing about his job, this made them seem like a piece of cake.

“So, now you see why I don’t date cops?” you asked him when you finally arrived home, and all Sammy could do was shrug.

“So, what do we do?”

“Well… We should tell him. I mean, the sooner the better. Like ripping off a band-aid,” you said, studying his face as Sammy chewed on his lips, seemingly on the fence about it. “Unless you want to end it…?”

Sammy met your eyes then, scowling at the idea.

“No, of course not." You felt relief wash over you. "It’s just… God, how did we not figure it out sooner? Where did my detective skills go?”

“Maybe the sex had something to do with it.”

Well, it was all easier said than done. It had been weeks since you discussed the ways of how to tell your brother. Should you speak to him together? Probably. But then it would seem like you were ganging up on him. Maybe you should tell him, you could calm him down in case he freaked. But that would seem like Sammy was just purposefully going behind his back, like he was’t even willing to face him. So maybe Sammy should tell him. He knew how to communicate worse things than this, so he could sit Ben down in his favorite restaurant, butter him up a bit and just get it out.

Shit. There was no good way to go about this.

You mentioned to Ben that you were seeing someone but didn’t give him any more details. And that was it, the conversation kind of ended there. You knew then that you weren’t able to tell him on your own. So, together it was.

However, both you and Sammy were stalling, and you often forgot about this whole mess of a situation when you were together, losing yourselves in each other’s presence. It was probably also because it was kind of exciting. To have this kind of secret, to be in this shared bubble with Sammy.

But it was harder on him, because he had to look Ben in the eye every single day and lie. Well, not lie per se, because the topic never really came up, but he still wasn’t truthful.

“My sister is actually seeing some guy. Wouldn’t even tell me his name or what he does,” Ben said one day, and it instantly made Sammy squirm in his seat, paranoia taking over him and making him think that Ben had found out somehow. I mean, he wasn’t stupid.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And I mean, it’s her life, she knows what she’s doing. But I’m a little worried for her,” Ben said, causing Sammy to frown. “She never really had a serious relationship, you know. No doubt our deadbeat father had something to do with that, but...”

“So, you mean she’s like you? Changing her men like she changes her socks? Runs in the family?” Sammy tried to sound nonchalant, but Ben only put him on edge.

Ben chuckled at that.

“No, not like that. I think she just got so used to being on her own that she doesn’t want to put the energy into a relationship. To share her space. Or, she gets bored. I don’t know, man.” The car was now quiet, with Ben still pondering on his sister’s life choices while Sammy felt a lump in his throat. And to make it worse, Ben continued. “I mean, look at her, she couldn’t even settle down in a city for once. I’m just waiting for her to move back to Seattle or wherever the hell she chooses.”

Sammy was going to be sick.

“Right.”

Ben managed to numb Sammy’s head with all the crap he'd said and it made him feel scared all of a sudden. Was that what he was to you? Just a toy you’d throw away once you'd had your fill? After Tammi, he didn’t know what to think. He trusted her so many times and she let him down over and over again, and he wasn’t going to let you do the same.

“So, Ben told me an interesting thing today,” Sammy said, seated in your kitchen chair.

“Yeah? What’s that?” you asked, munching on a cookie as you came over to him and sat yourself sideways on his thigh, hooking your arm around his neck.

“He told me you’d never had a serious relationship,” Sammy said bluntly, watching your expression change to confusion.

“And? I never would’ve thought that would be a problem for you.” You took another bite, fully believing that Sammy wasn't going to make a scene about you never having a serious relationship.

“Well, he said that you either get bored or you don’t want to put up with the guys. Eventually. So I would like to know which group I’ll fall into.”

You clenched your jaw, studying his face with squinted eyes, trying to figure out if he was joking or not.

“Right now, you’re falling into a group of jerks, Sam. Are you serious?”

He chewed on his cheek, lifting an eyebrow as he shrugged. That expression finally made you get off his lap, turning away from him as you crossed your arms over your chest, thinking about what to say. Should you explain yourself? Wouldn’t that come across as defensive? What exactly would you be explaining anyway? Should you yell at him and kick him out? What were you supposed to do?

“I’ve never had a serious relationship, because the guys were either assholes or we just didn’t click.”

“And how do you decide that exactly?” Sammy stood up, stepping towards you in a swift motion. “Is every guy an asshole when it comes to you, then? You think you're too good for them?”

Your body span around, scoffing as you faced him. Unbelievable.

“Apparently, yeah. Look at yourself. Sammy, what the fuck did Ben tell you?” You tried to stop the tears from welling up in the corners of your eyes. “We’ve been seeing each other for months, because I actually like you. And what– would you expect me to settle for the first guy that throws me a smile and calls me kitten?” The tears slipped down, tickling your cheeks and it made you press the heels of your palms against your eye sockets. “Fuck!” you cursed through clenched teeth, frustrated. You seriously had no idea what he wanted from you.

Shaking your head, you turned away, wiping at your face on your walk to the bathroom. Once there, you sat down on the plush rug and leaned your back against the shower door, letting yourself weep.

In the kitchen, Sammy closed his eyes and let himself breathe. He needed to chill out. Needed to relax his fists.

All he wanted to do was to settle down, to finally meet the love of his life and spend the rest of his life with her. He had thought Tammi was it. And maybe you were right when you said that he expected you to settle for the first guy you’d dated, because that’s exactly what Sammy did with Tammi. And it was the stupidest thing he could have done, he had realized that a while ago, so he didn’t really know why his perspective changed back all of a sudden. You just made him fucking crazy.

A few minutes passed and Sammy headed to the bathroom, hoping you didn't lock yourself. He was greeted by the sight of you chewing on your lip and your jaw clenching, probably holding yourself from punching the fuck out of him. Your foot jumped up and down and your eyes rolled when you saw him. Yeah. You definitely wanted to deck him.

“I’m sorry,” Sammy said as he kneeled in front of you, but you avoided his gaze. “Can you look at me? Please?"

You only shook your head, another wave of tears rolling out. Sammy sighed, knowing there was no point in trying to make you.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, “I screwed up. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. But Ben said you couldn’t settle down, because of your father. That you’d move away again. And my ego just plummeted, while my insecurities skyrocketed.” Sammy watched another tear escape your eye, and his hand itched to swipe it away, but you were faster. “Because I want to be enough for you. I want to make you happy and I don’t want you to leave.”

Your eyes finally darted towards him and you sniffled, pinching the collar of your shirt and using the material to wipe your eyes.

“Next time, don’t listen to my fucking brother. Especially when he mentions our father,” you said, your tone weak as you still fought the lump in your throat, but it still had a warning bite to it. “And don’t you come fucking accusing me like that ever again. I know you’re not an asshole, but you sure were acting like one.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, closing your eyes as you huffed. Swallowing, you shifted to your knees and extended your arms, wrapping them around his neck. He welcomed your hug with a relieved sigh, burying his nose into your neck and taking in your smell. Your cheek was squished against his shoulder, creating a wet spot on the soft material of his tactical, long-sleeve shirt, soaking it through. He rocked your body back and forth as he kissed the skin of your neck before pulling away and taking in your puffy face.

Sammy wiped the remaining wetness from your cheeks with his sleeve, even getting the snot under your nose which made you jerk away and a smile creep up on your face. “You’re disgusting.”

“What?” he watched you get up and stop in front of the mirror. “Just cleaning my mess.”

“You don’t have to kiss my ass. I forgave you.” You splashed your face with cold water before wiping it with your towel.

Normally, Sammy would make a lewd comment about kissing your ass, but now was really not the time. So he just settled for, “Can I stay?”

You rolled your eyes, a small smile still playing on your lips as they breathed out a quiet of course. You turned away from him then and exited the bathroom without another word.

Sammy knew you were trying to act indifferent. Pretending like this hadn’t somehow altered your relationship, and to be fair, you probably did want to sweep it under the rug. But he knew he’d hurt you, and just because you’d forgiven him didn’t mean he would act like nothing happened.

So, he cooked you dinner. Put on your favorite show with that actor that made you giggle and kick your feet. Let you think that the the attack you made with your piece during a chess game wasn’t against the rules. Traced shapes on your back for you to guess until you fell asleep. And the next morning, he made your favorite breakfast for you. Right after he made love to you.

Sammy realized soon that he shouldn’t have gotten pissed at what Ben said. He should have gotten selfishly proud about the fact that he was in your life unlike the assholes that couldn’t keep you, but instead, he almost fucked it up like them, letting his failed marriage with Tammi get the better of him.

But he couldn’t even compare his previous relationship to this one. Tammi had more than one screw loose, making their relationship doomed from the start. He just hadn’t realized it then, since his mind had been fogged by all the weed they smoked together.

Either way, Sammy was sure his mom would smack his head for the way he’d acted. She taught him better than this, not to mention she would’ve been pissed if he’d screwed it up before she got to meet the girl her son was always gushing about.

“We need to tell him,” you said after you cleaned the kitchen, your tone definitive, making Sammy pause as he rinsed his mouth with the mouthwash. He saw your reflection in the mirror, your arms crossed over your chest. He spat out the liquid and you continued, “I’m not really interested in letting any more misunderstandings ruin this relationship.”

“Okay,” Sammy agreed, wrinkles appearing on his forehead as he turned towards you, studying your face. “Are we good?”

Rolling your eyes, you came closer to him as he leaned against the sink, bracing himself with his palms against the edge. You circled both of his wrists with your fingers before sliding them up his forerarms, feeling the veins through his skin. You stood on your tiptoes to peck his lip. “No. We’re not good. That’s why I want to tell Ben, so he can kick your ass.”

“Ha. You’re so fucking funny,” Sammy mumbled, a teasing smile spreading on his face as he bobbed his head, catching your wrists and tugging, making you crash against his chest. “You know that? Know how hilarious you are? I should sell you to a fucking circus.”

You grinned at him and before you knew it, he was pinching your sides, making you cackle as you tried to escape his hold, but his forearm against your stomach trapped you to his body, and you fell victim to his torture.

Later that morning, you headed to work, leaving Sammy in your apartment since he had the day off anyway. You gave him your spare key and told him to lock the door once he left.

You agreed to drive to his place right after work, because you planned to spend the rest of the week at his house since Sammy actually had the whole weekend off, and you didn’t want to cramp up at your apartment.

Besides that, it was a great hiking area, and you already mapped out some trails which you were looking forward to, as well as getting some fresh air and spending time with Sammy.

You were balancing a bowl of ice-cream topped by a few M&M’s in your lap, your legs stretched over Sammy’s thighs as you lounged on his couch.

“Maybe we should like… pretend that we all bumped into each other at some café. That way it won’t feel like an intervention or something,” you proposed but before Sammy could reply, you interrupted by a knock on the door.

You both frowned, Sammy's tongue poking into his cheek as he lifted your legs off his lap before gently putting them down on the cushions. He headed to the door and when he opened it, he immediately braced his arm against the doorframe to block the view inside as he saw Ben standing on his porch.

“Hey, man. What are you doing here?” Sammy laughed nervously.

“Well, you were supposed to help with the detective exam questions, right?”

…

Shit. He was right. Sammy promised Ben to go over it with him and he totally fucking forgot.

“But seeing my sister’s car in your driveway, I’m here to ask, what the fuck is she doing here?”

Ben didn’t wait for an answer, shoving past Sammy and storming right into the living room.

“Ben, wait,” Sammy tried to stop him, but he wasn’t hearing it. You were, though, your eyes widening at the sound of your brother’s name followed by heavy stomps, and it made you straighten up as you prepared for the worst. Ben only scoffed when he came into view, pacing behind the couch.

“What the fuck is this?” he asked, dragging his hands down his face before extending them in front of him with palms up. “I mean, what the fuck, Sammy?”

“Ben, calm down,” you said, standing up and coming closer to him.

“Are you screwing my sister?”

“Ben!” you tried to get him to talk to you instead, but his focus was solely on Sammy.

“We’re dating,” Sammy corrected, but that really didn’t help anything.

“Oh! Oh, you’re dating. Well then, that explains everything, doesn’t it?” Ben fake-laughed, his hands on his hips now as he faced Sammy. “How long have you been dating?”

“A few months.”

Ben shook his head, sneering at his supposed friend. “So, you’ve been lying to my face for a few months?” Ben closed up on Sammy, their noses inches apart as if they were having a face-off. “You’re so full of shit, Sammy. All that bullshit about trusting your partner? You’re such a fucking hypocrite.”

“Ben, we didn’t know that–” you tried to reason, but Ben just hissed a save it at you. And you did.

“Listen to her, man,” Sammy continued, as calmly as possible. “I didn’t know you were her brother until recently.”

Ben shook his head again, snorting at the poor explanation, the sound followed by a painful silence. It was when Sammy met your gaze over Ben’s shoulder that your borther’s fingers grasped the front of Sammy’s shirt, and his fist connected with Sammy’s face, making him groan at the impact and his body twist away as his hand shot up to his face.

“What the fuck, Ben?” you screamed, but your brother was already storming out of the house. You didn’t follow him. Letting him cool off was the best choice for now.

Your feet carried you to Sammy, your hand coming to his back as he braced himself on the back of the couch with one arm.

“Let me see,” you said gently, willing his hand away with yours. You already saw his palm stained with blood, some of it even dripping on the floor. “Wait, you know what, let’s go to the bathroom, come on.”

“I’m fine,” he rasped out.

“Yeah, well, your couch won’t be if you stay here, and it’s not gonna be easy to get the bloody stains out. But you know that, don’t you? So, come on.”

Sammy groaned again, and you let him go ahead, getting some tissues first because you weren’t sure if he had any in the first-aid kit right now.

Meanwhile, Sammy washed his face only to have it covered in blood again as it trickled out of his nose. As soon as you brought the tissues, he used one to give his nose a good pinch, squeezing his eyes shut as he bent over the sink.

You were frowning next to him, gently petting his hair and tracing your fingers along his ear.

“Should I bring you an ice-pack?”

Sammy shook his head, his voice congested when he spoke. “Nah, I’m good.”

After a while, he sniffled, removing the bloody tissues before looking at his reflection. It seemed that the bleeding had stopped, but his nose was a dark shade of pink, a little swollen. Not broken though, hopefully. Some of the discoloration reached the skin under his eye too. He splashed some water on his face once again, cleaning himself up.

“I’m sorry,” you said from your place next to him, guilt washing over you. “I never thought he would react like this.”

“Yeah, well,” Sammy stood to his full height, facing you. “I deserved it. And it’s not your fault. He was right, anyway. I’m always saying that your partner is supposed to have your back, not go behind.”

“But you do have his back. He was never going to get killed because we were seeing each other.”

“It’s not just about getting killed… I just shouldn’t have lied,” Sammy bit his cheek, his eyes darting sideways.

You wrapped your arms around his ribcage, slotting yourself against him. You were relieved when you felt his arms wrap around you, his cheek landing itself on the crown of your head. You felt his chest expand as he took in a deep inhale.

You explained that it was probably Ben’s general overprotectiveness of women that made him lash out. That it wasn’t just them hiding their relationship. Several things came together at once.

“He’ll get over it. He looks up to you, Sam. He knows you’re a good man and this was just a lapse in judgement. From both of us.”

“Yeah. I think we’ll have to change our Sunday plans, though. I should pay him a visit before we go to work on Monday.”

“Of course. I’ll come with you.”

“Okay.”

Sammy proved to you again and again that he truly had his heart in the right place. And while he had his flaws, he was always trying to do good by people.

Ben was still angry when you arrived at his place. Or maybe more like annoyed. But he did let you both in, which you supposed was a good sign.

He was still throwing daggers in Sammy’s direction, but as you explained the whole situation, swearing that you had never meant to lie, Ben’s stares softened and his fists eventually unclenched. He even asked Sammy about his nose.

When you got up to leave, the two men shook hands, patting each other on their shoulders before Ben walked you out.

“Go ahead, I’ll catch up,” Sammy said, pushing you softly with his fingers as he handed you the keys to his car.

Once you were out of earshot, Sammy faced Ben.

“I’m sorry you found out this way, Ben. But I promise you that I’m not going to hurt her. You can… shoot me in the leg if I do,” Sammy said, only half-joking.

Ben huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “I know. Now, get out of my face. Don’t keep my sister waiting.”

Sammy gave a tight-lipped smile and nodded. “See ya tomorrow.”

Ben watched your smile grow when Sammy got inside the car. The only reason he got over it so soon was because he knew Sammy was a good guy and if anyone could treat you right, it was him.

“So, now we’re like.. official.”

Sammy caged you against his kitchen counter, pressing himself to your front while you clasped your wrist with your hand behind his neck.

“I guess so.”

“Like, girlfriend-boyfriend official.”

You snorted at how ridiculous he sounded, but nodded anyway.

“I don’t know what you’re laughing at.”

“You sound like a thirteen-year-old.”

Sammy leaned down, pressing his lips against yours in a slow kiss, sucking on your lower lip before giving it a small nip, pulling a soft moan out of you.

“That felt like a thirteen-year-old to you?”

“Are you trying to get me to incriminate myself?”

Sammy tipped his head back, inhaling with an open mouth as he pretended to think about it, his eyes darting between random objects.

“Maybe I should bring the cuffs home sometime. See if you’re still runnin' your mouth when I have you tied to the bed. All helpless. Nowhere to run.”

“Or, I should tie you up. Torture you until you’re screaming for mercy.”

Sammy nearly burst out laughing, wrinkles appearing around his eyes, and you bit your cheek as he laughed at you.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He flicked at your chin with his index finger, still smiling from ear to ear. “It’s just cute when you say it like that. I almost called my lawyer.”

“You’re an asshole,” you said, ready to pass around him, but he stopped by grabbing your hands and pressing you back into the counter with his hips, the edge digging into your ass.

“Wait, wait. I’ll let you cuff me up. Whatever you want.”

He brought your hands back behind his head and you played with the hair at the nape of his neck as he kissed you again.

He snaked his tongue between your lips, and without breaking the kiss, Sammy bent in his knees, grabbing you by the undersides of your thighs and lifting you up on the counter.

He spread your legs, situating himself between them as he leaned into you, your head gently thudding against the kitchen cabinet behind you.

Sammy’s fingers skimmed against your bare knees and up your thighs, teasingly slipping under the hem of your shorts until they reached for the band and started tugging.

“Wait.” You broke the kiss and his hands paused. “I don’t want to make a mess in your kitchen.”

“Why?”

“Well… I don’t know. You’re okay with it?”

He huffed out a laugh.

“Yeah,” he yanked on your shorts with all the strength he had, making your body jerk forward a little. “I want to fuck you right here, so I have something to reminisce about every time I make us dinner.” He tugged again and this time your shorts came free along with your panties.

Sammy got down on his knees, and as soon as his face was in front of your center, he inhaled, taking in your scent. You still couldn’t get used to how shameless he was about it. And not only that, but sex in general.

He kissed along your thigh first, opening his mouth wide and sinking his teeth into the flesh. It made you yelp, and all he could do was unlatch himself from you and admire the dents in your skin. He brought his head closer to your center then, letting his forehead rest against your abdomen and his curls tickle your skin as he stuck his tongue out, licking you from your hole all the way up to your clit.

Your legs snapped close around his head, but he was quick to spread them apart with his hands circling your ankles and keeping you from closing them again, all while sucking on your throbbing clit.

Your hand came down to the back of his head, grasping his hairr and trying not to tug too hard as he grazed his teeth against the sensitive nub.

Sammy was watching you as you threw your head back, revelling in the was his tongue massaged your slit, kissing and slurping sloppily at your cunt. You moaned above him and it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard.

Your nails scraped against the nape of his neck when his tongue plunged into you, and he had to flex his arms as your legs threatened to close once again.

He fucked you with the wet muscle, and when he felt you spasm around him, he withdrew it, returning his focus to your puffy clit. He sucked on you while drawing figure eights against the bundle, making your hips twitch against him as you neared the end.

It all came crashing down when he freed one of your legs and pushed two of his fingers into your cunt, hooking them inside and massaging the spongy spot.

Your hand tightened behind his neck, nails digging into his skin and creating small crescents, while your other arm shot up, palm slamming against the cupboard as your orgasm rippled through you.

He fingered you through it, and usually, he would stop once you started shoving at his head or his hand, but this time, he was glued to you, sucking on you like a leech.

You cried out a few stop's, and no more's, but to no avail.

You felt like you were on a roller coaster, coming down the railway track only to ascend again.

You were panting above him, and he quickened the pace of his fingers, slamming them into you as he kept his lips clasped around your sensitive clit, shaking his head from side to side, making you scream his name.

You hit him with your free knee as you came for the second time, trying to escape his working mouth and fingers in any way you could, but Sammy didn’t care. He let your heel dig into his back, to scrunch up his shirt as your thigh slapped itself against his ear.

When Sammy finally removed himself, he grabbed your leg again and you felt your wetness against your calf. He stayed on his knees watching your stomach move up and down, before his eyes drifted to your twitching cunt.

Sammy watched your cum dribble down onto the countertop, and he could’t help but ghost his fingers over the length of your pussy, making your hips jerk, before dipping them in the pool of your wetness decorating the marble surface. He brought his fingers to your mouth, and you licked at them, cleaning them with your tongue as you tasted yourself.

Sammy took you off the counter then, turning you around and bending you over as he unbuckled the belt of his jeans.

The clasps bit into your skin as he fucked you against the counter, your brains dissolving to the extent that you didn’t even think twice when he asked you to clean the mess you made. You licked it off with your tongue, some of it getting onto your nose before he grabbed you by your neck and yanked you upwards, your body arching against him. He kissed your cum-covered lips, tasting you one last time, before he made you cum around in cock, with Sammy following shortly after.

Your legs almost gave up on you, and if it wasn’t for Sammy holding you up, you would have probably toppled to the ground.

When you were able to stand on your own, you went to take a shower while Sammy really cleaned the countertop, only because you shot him a look when he half-joked that he wouldn’t mind to let it get dry and you know… 'leave it like that'.

He took a shower right after you before joining you on the couch only in his shorts. You snuggled into his bare chest, your cheek against his collar bone as you looked up at him, letting yourself admire him again, his cheeks still a little pink, his lips curled into a soft smile while his eyes looked so warm and loving.

Your eyelashes fluttered as you glanced down before looking back up.

“I love you,” you said, and Sammy leaned down to kiss your nose.

“Are you saying that because of the sex?”

You knew he was teasing, your cheeks cramping from the widened smile as you slowly swung your from side to side.

“You’re horrible. You can’t be serious for even just one second.”

“Yeah, because you wouldn’t even like me if I tried to play out a rom-com scene with you.”

And he was right. It was his loud, annoying ass that you loved about him. Among other things.

“But,” he said as he pinched your chin between his thumb and index, making you look at him, “I love you, too.”

fin.

#sammy bryant #sammy bryant x f!reader #sammy bryant fanfiction #sammy bryant oneshot #sammy bryant x reader #sammy bryant smut #southland #southland fanfiction #southland smut #shawn hatosy x reader #brother’s best friend!au #brother’s colleague!au #brother’s best friend!sammy bryant #secret dating #secret dating!au #secret relationship #secret relationship!au #sammy bryant fluff #sammy bryant angst

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innammoratta · 1 year ago

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The Hobbit Incorrect Quotes

(Y/n): *walking into Erebor*

(Y/n): "Duuude, it's totally burnt in here."

Bilbo: "It's called a 'fire,' (Y/n)."

#The Hobbit #LOTR #hobbit oneshots #hobbit x reader #bilbo x reader #bilbo x reader platonic #Thorin's company x reader #Hobbit imagines #thorin x reader #psych #shawn spencer #burton guster

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mrsmadlove · 3 months ago

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Under the Spotlight of Love -`♡´-𝚂𑁤

A conversation with a famous couple (Shawn Michaels One-shot)

Summary: You and Shawn, the year's hottest couple, were special guests on a popular TV show to talk about your relationship (This story takes place in the 90s). The first interviewer that comes to mind is David Letterman, but feel free to picture whoever you like.

— Before you could settle into the couch, the camera captured the moment when Shawn, with his characteristic charming smile, took you by the waist and sat you on his lap. The action sparked laughter and spontaneous applause from the audience behind the cameras. It was one of those interactions that made everyone feel like they were part of something endearing, and you couldn't help but smile as you felt the warmth of his body close to yours.

— When the presenter asked the classic question about how they met, they both looked at each other, and a spark of complicity lit up their faces. Shawn decided to break the ice, and his voice was filled with nostalgia as he recalled that first encounter. "It was during practice at my job," he began, his eyes shining as he looked at you. "My friend Paul suddenly appears with this beauty, and there's not much to explain, just look at her..." He paused, directing a gaze at you that made you blush immediately. "I was hooked from the start," he concluded with a mischievous and sincere smile.

Then it was your turn to speak, and you did so with a shy but charming smile. "I wanted to learn more about my brother's work," you explained, "so he took me to the action zone and introduced me to his friends. That's where I met him." As you spoke, Shawn caressed your thigh lovingly, a gesture that seemed natural between the two of you. "After talks, furtive glances here, games there, we made our way here," you said, your voice full of emotion. "But from the very first moment, I felt drawn to him."

The chemistry between them was palpable, and the audience could feel it.

— The interview continued, and at one point, the presenter turned to Shawn with a question that had been on many people's minds since the news went viral: the famous cover of Playgirl magazine featuring him a month ago. The controversy and buzz generated by that image still resonated in the entertainment industry. You, who had been listening attentively, decided to share your perspective on the topic. You clearly remembered when Shawn received the offer. "I remember when he asked me about the proposal," you began, with a smile on your face. "I simply told him: 'Do it.' I mean, who wouldn't want to see and read about the most attractive and charismatic man in the world?" Your tone was playful, but there was sincerity in your words that resonated with the audience. "It didn't bother me at all. I'm not a jealous person, on the contrary," you added with a light laugh.

After your words, you stood up with contagious energy and, taking Shawn's hand, lifted him up in a gesture that invited the public to admire him. "He's someone who deserves to be admired. What do you think, audience?" you asked, and the auditorium erupted in applause. Shawn's classic laughter resonated, full of warmth and complicity, and in an instant, he leaned towards you, giving you a soft kiss on the lips. Both of you knew how to put on a show, a chemistry that transcended words.

— The presenter, aware of the dynamic between you two, made a significant observation. "You're the most sought-after couple of the year. I imagine the number of photographers who must be outside 24/7 trying to capture just one image of you both. And this is the first interview you've given together despite being together for over six months. Why now?" Shawn, calm and serene, responded with a reflective look. "We're both people who work in the industry. Our privacy is limited, and we're aware of that. We know there's a certain dependence and responsibility to the public, it's a 50/50 balance. We always appreciate our fans, but we also try to keep our relationship as what it is: ours." You added, "Exactly, we just adapt to each situation and want to enjoy each other to the fullest," you said, and as you looked at him, you noticed he was already watching you. They slowly leaned in, tenderly touching noses. "Besides," Shawn added, laughing, "we're happy to be locked up in our room. I don't want to be anywhere else." You laughed, giving him a light tap on the shoulder, while your eyes rolled.

— The presenter, proposed an interactive game. He invited part of the audience to ask questions or make comments, and that's when the atmosphere became a bit more intimate and daring. The questions didn't take long to arrive, and many of them revolved around their sex life as a couple, how they were in the intimacy of their home. A viewer, with a hint of humor, even dared to ask if it was possible to see Shawn without a shirt, which provoked laughter and murmurs among the attendees. However, it was a particular comment that seemed to alter the energy in the room, generating a collective murmur: "What do you think about people who say you won't last a year?" The question hung in the air, loaded with skepticism and curiosity, and the gazes were directed towards Shawn and you, expectant.

Shawn, with a mischievous smile and a sparkle in his eyes, looked at you with complicity. He winked, as if to downplay the matter, and then, with a soft and tender gesture, lifted your hand. The engagement ring shone under the stage lights, a small diamond that symbolized not only their love but also their mutual commitment. "I think they'll have to put up with us," he said, his voice resonating with confidence. "Not just for a year, but for a lifetime."

The audience erupted in applause.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ ~^ྀི ༝༚༝༚ ^ྀི~

#shawn michaels #shawn michaels x reader #fanfic #90s #hbk #oneshot #wwe fanfiction #fantasy #shawn michaels x lector

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salemshotspot · 1 year ago

Text

HOW DOLLS SHOULD BE TREATED

Shawn Michaels x Reader

Kind Of A Song Fic If You Squint?

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

DESC: Shawn helps the reader out when she can’t record to moans for his song as well as he knows she can

Female Reader [She/Her]

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ MDNI//Slight Choking//Implied Possessive Behaviour//Age Gap//Not Proof Read

RED >> Song lyrics

A/N >> NOT GREAT BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY

TAGS: @dilfs-4life

Enjoy!

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Y/n couldn’t believe her luck, she had grown up both watching and loving wrestling. Y/n was a semi-successful vocalist who was mostly well known for her work with the wwe; remastering a great deal of wrestler's theme songs with a contemporary twist

Y/n was having an uneventful day, it was her first day off work in a while, although it was uneventful she appreciated being able to rest after a busy few weeks. However this rest did not last long, y/n’s phone mockingly lit up with an email notification causing y/n to sigh as she realised it was from no other than the head of the creative team at the wwe; y/n's boss.

‘Hey y/n,

I’m writing to inform you we are remastering a song for a wrestler’s return [who cannot be revealed as of yet as his return has not been released to the public] and he has requested you by name to work on the song. Your vocals will only be backing vocals compared to your usual main track vocals so please come to my office before the end of the day in order to discuss if you’d want the role and what it would entail both job and pay wise.

-the wwe creative team.’

Y/n stares at her phone in disbelief, not only was a big time wrestler returning, causing her to become excited as a long time fan of the sport, but they paid enough attention to her work that they wanted her out of everyone to work on their song? Although she was determined to enjoy her day off, y/n practically jumped out of her seat and began getting ready to go into work, even if she didn’t want the job there was no harm in turning up and hearing them out right? Worst case scenario she doesn’t take the job but finds out which wrestler is returning to the sport.

Once y/n makes her way into work her boss spotted her and pulled her into their office and invited her to sit down and began explaining what they had already said in the email but they began sensing the idea of disinterest towards the job from y/n which is confirmed when she began speaking.

‘I’ll be straight with you boss' she begins ‘in not sure this job is right for me, I’ve only just gotten time off and I want to take advantage of tha-‘ but her boss cuts her off with a devilish smile.

'Before you say no to the job’ they say picking up the phone and telling somebody on the line to ‘send him in’ ‘at least hear the man out who so desperately wanted you for the job.’

Y/n’s mind began to race theorising who could be coming in, could it be a beloved wrestler from the attitude era like Steve Austin, wanting to have a final run, wanting to add vocals to his song to appeal to fans or could it be a more modern wrestler who had been out due to injury for a while like CM Punk, finally ready for his return?

It was while she was theorising as to which wrestler it could possibly be that none other than Shawn Michaels, The Heartbreak Kid, entered the room and sat down in the chair opposite y/n. Once y/n locked eyes with Shawn her eyes widened as she was flooded with emotions; starstruck didn’t even begin to cover it.

Shawn cleared his throat, pulling y/n out of her trance; ‘it’s great to finally meet you y/n’ he says smiling warmly, ‘I was really looking forward working with you, I was thinking we could go into the recording room and have a practice run.’ Y/n began to protest as a wave of unexpected anxiety washed over her being face to face with a wrestler she grew up watching, she grew up fantasising about- ‘y/n?’ Shawn questioned, causing y/n to blush softly.

Y/n took a deep breath to compose herself and smiled at the man across from her, ‘ok, sure, we can have a test run but I’m not promising anything’ she says in an anxious yet teasing manner as both herself and Shawn made their way to the recording room after promising the creative director they will both be back in the office within the hour with y/n's answer about whether or not she is going to take the job.

Shawn closed the soundproof door of the recording room gently behind the two of them and motioned for the younger woman to sit down in one of the many chairs in the room. As y/n took her seat Shawn began pacing a small area of the room as he spoke; not before apologising to y/n for his pacing, claiming 'moving around helps me get my words out properly' he pauses for a second, 'I'm not too good with articulation you see' he says with a chuckle to mask his insecurity. Y/n assured him that he didn't need to apologise, causing a sense of relief to wash over Shawn as he continued speaking.

As he continued speaking y/n's mind began to wander as Shawn spoke; her heart began to race as the realisation set in, as she realised exactly what parts of the song she would be running through for Shawn to judge if she's the 'right fit' for the job. As Shawn noticed the woman growing increasingly more nervous he placed his large, rugged hand on the woman's lap, gently grazing his thumb over her leg, bringing y/n's focus back to the conversation before he continued vocalising his idea.

'The lovely creative director back in there has informed me that you're familiar with my song, so I was thinking we run through it as it is then if the stars align for me and you want to work on the rewrite we can go from there' he says almost excitedly.

'Sounds good' y/n replied sheepishly with as she went onto one of the computers in the recording room to prepare a backing track as the computers had all of the wrestling backing tracks saved onto them for the creative team when necessary. While she was preparing the track Shawn also requested that y/n also recorded the process of them practicing the vocals so they could listen back to it and see if either of the two have any improvements or changes in min; Y/n hums in agreement and pulls up a recording software.

Once each piece of software was in place and the recording had begun Shawn gave y/n a nod to begin, the young woman took a deep breath and closed her eyes thinking if she couldn't see Shawn she'd be less embarrassed and in turn be able to perform better.

'Oh.. Oh.. Shawn' Y/n attempted to moan out like the original version of the man's song but she was barely able to mutter the words, let alone confidently moan them how she needed to. 'Great' y/n thought to herself, not only was she completely ruining her chance at the job but more so she was embarrassing herself in front of Shawn Michaels of all people, she was expecting to open her eyes to find Shawn laughing at her pathetic attempt to mimic his iconic song. However to y/n's surprise when she opened her eyes she was greeted by the older man's eyes filled with patience, there wasn't an ounce of mockery in the man's eyes.

'I'm sorry' y/n began, but before she could continue Shawn cut her off, almost parroting back the words she said to him before 'you don't need to apologise sweetheart' he reassured her in a low register 'why don't you give it another go, imagine you're going at it with your dream man' he teased making y/n flustered. Y/n jokingly nodded and agreed to try again with Shawn's 'expert advice' in mind.

Y/n closed her eyes once again and despite her best efforts to not imagine Shawn, trying her hardest to fantasise about anything other than the older man making her a quivering shaking mess using nothing but his fingers- y/n gulped at the idea, feeling herself grow increasingly wet merely at the thought.

Biting her lip, y/n completely missed her cue, only realising once Shawn asked her through a smirk 'is there something on your mind doll?' causing y/n to to immediately begin apologising and attempting to explain away her making a complete fool of herself before Shawn stood up and stepped closer to the seated woman, towering over her.

'I think my suggestion worked a little too well sweetheart' he jokes 'who are you thinking of in that mind of yours? A little boyfriend?' He questions, emphasising the 'boy', seemingly mocking the age of anybody y/n could possibly be dating.

'I don't have 'a little boyfriend' actually' y/n replies, causing one of Shawn's eyebrow to raise in a curious manner at the woman; without missing a beat, Shawn questions back in a curious tone 'who was making your mind wander so much you missed your cue then?' Seeing the woman's doe-like eyes widen as if starving for light as she assures Shawn it was 'no one in particular' was all the conformation Shawn needed, he's been around enough women to know when one was enamoured with him.

Craning his neck downwards so his face was inches from the woman's, Shawn asks in a seductive whisper 'do you trust me doll?' To which y/n responded with a simple nod. With that, Shawn moved over to the woman's ear and instructed her to press record on the computer as he nipped as the skin on her neck teasingly, causing y/n to let out a desperate whine.

Shawn swiftly moved from the woman's neck, not wanting to leave any visible marks on the woman, Shawn liked to see himself as a gentleman and didn't want people seeing the young woman leaving the room covered in markings, people can be cruel and Shawn has the rest of his life to mark the woman's pretty little neck, this what he was doing now was simply business.

Shawn made sure he let his hands graze down y/n's body as he gracefully falls to his knees, once on his knees he effortless pulled the woman's loose fitting jeans down to her ankles exposing her panties, already soaked from the way Shawn had been lightly touching her. Shawn's eyes grew lustful with hunger at the sight. With an uncharacteristically demanding tone Shawn began speaking to the woman; 'be a good doll and make sure you’re practicing your vocals’ he demanded as he softly pulled the woman’s cotton panties aside, the softness of the fabric had nothing on the softness of y/n’s skin as Shawn firmly gripped onto the woman’s thighs, spreading them to the side to gain better access to the heat between the woman’s legs.

With a cockiness to him Shawn dramatically allowed his tongue to fall out of his mouth, practically gasping for y/n like a dehydrated dog, Shawn took his tongue and painfully slowly glided it over the heat between y/n’s legs until he found himself at her clit. He hovered over the aching ball of nerves, his hit breathe being the only sensation pulsing through y/n causing her to desperately push her hips upwards in an attempt to bring her clit and Shawn’s mouth into contact.

‘Tut-Tut-Tut’ Shawn mocks ‘you’re so desperate for Shawn to make you feel good aren’t you darling' he continues as he uses his fingers to open y/n's folds, revealing her wet hole, desperately pulsating at the thought of being filled. With his free hand Shawn gently pries the young woman's plump untouched lips open and slid two fingers into her mouth and just like it was second nature y/n began to coyly suck on his long, thick digits.

Shawn’s eyes glaze over at the sight of the young woman enveloping his fingers in her mouth so easily; ‘now how about we see if you’re this good at swallowing my fingers elsewhere hmm?’ Shawn states as he pulls his fingers from y/n’s mouth still connected by a string of saliva. With ease Shawn slides his fingers coated in y/n’s spit into the gasping hole between her legs, walls immediately clamping down on him in fear of the empty feeling it’ll be left with if Shawn dares removes his fingers from y/n. Once y/n had adjusted to the feeling of Shawn’s fingers beautifully stretching her in a delicate way which she had never experienced before Shawn began slowly pumping his fingers in and out of y/n, in his mind claiming her as his own.

As y/n let out a soft moan Shawn snakes his hand around her throat and applied soft pressure, not enough to hurt her but enough to get her attention, in a smug and condescending tone Shawn utters ‘I don’t hear you practicing those vocals darlin’ I bet you can do so good for ol’ Shawn if you try.’ This praise was enough to have y/n melting into his touch, eager to please the man who had her falling apart in his hands.

Once again y/n attempts the dreaded vocals, but as she opens her mouth Shawn’s fingers pick up their pace, causing unimaginable waves of pleasure to course through the woman; 'Oh.. Oh.. Shawn' she practically screams as Shawn praises her efforts ‘good girl, you’re doing so well for me.’

Although Shawn had all the vocal samples he needed he continued pumping his fingers in and out of the woman until he felt her walls clamp down on him, until the woman’s delicate hands gripped at his forearm; with a smirk Shawn removed his fingers become y/n reached her climax, completely playing into the persona which his song encompasses he stands up and almost cockily says ‘hands off the merchandise’ expecting a laugh or at least a smile from his y/n, however upon seeing her pouting at him for denying her of her first real orgasm; that being an orgasm from a man who knew exactly how to send a woman over the edge, Shawn grinned and whispered into her ear; ‘don’t get short with me darlin' if we get through this meeting with the creative director then I want to take you back to my place and show you what all the fuss about the heartbreak kid really is’ he teasingly nibbled on her ear and continued ‘what kind of a gentleman would I be if I let a doll like you climax in an office hmm? Let me show you how dolls should be treated.’

Y/n blushed, unaccustomed to this kind of treatment, in response Shawn grabbed her hand, helped her back into her pants and led her back to the creative director to tell them that y/n had agreed to take the job after all.

Shawn wouldn’t admit this to anybody but his heart welled with excitement through the entire meeting fantasising about showing y/n what a real man can do, he was excited to have her desperately pleading for him because he’s the only man that can make her feel good, but more than anything he was excited to make her his, after all, who better to look after such a sweet little doll than the wrestler whose gimmick was love?

——————————————————————————

A/N >> Would anyone want a part 2 to this fic? Drop suggestions/requests if you have any

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patchouliauthor · 5 months ago

Note

Hi, i absolutely love your work. But can i have another shawn spencer oneshort please?

Hand Over the Evidence | Shawn Spencer X GN!Reader

Warnings: Angst, minor limb severing, legal system, alcohol, guns, knives, blood, use of “y/n”

Word Count: Like 5900

A/N: I admittedly don’t know much about the law enforcement system so bear with me. I’m back back back again. My life literally did a complete 180, but I am back due to popular demand (aka like 3 people in my inbox). Love ya, mean it, here’s something I’ve been cooking up.

Summary: You’re a detective in Santa Barbara and you team up with the eccentric fake psychic Shawn Spencer to investigate a bizarre string of restaurant break-ins. The seemingly harmless incidents escalate when a severed hand is found at a high-end bistro, accompanied by cryptic napkin messages. While tensions rise among the team, the case takes a chilling turn, hinting at a calculated and sinister motive.

There was never a dull moment in Santa Barbara, at least not where you worked. As a detective with the Santa Barbara Police Department, you never got bored. Especially not with the eccentric Shawn Spencer always weaseling his way into your caseload. Is weaseling the right word? Considering you actually thoroughly enjoyed his antics, you’re not quite sure. They always kept you entertained. The jury is still out on psychics, but if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

Even for Santa Barbara, this case was unusual. And you knew “unusual.” You formerly worked for the FBI as a criminal profiler, and if it weren’t for your father falling ill, you probably still would be. But you moved back home from Quantico and settled into a much lower stakes job working for the SBPD. Despite your background, this newest case definitely gave you a pause.

It was simple really. Just a string of break-ins in some of Santa Barbara’s premier restaurants. What stumped you was that there was nothing stolen or broken; the only sign of a break-in was the broken locks and the scrawled notes left on napkins.

“The feast is set, but the guests are missing.” You said, reading the newest napkin note.

“This is a waste of time.” said Detective Carlton Lassiter.

You looked at him quizzically. “I’m not so sure about that, Lassiter.”

He rolled his eyes. Lassiter rarely got along with anyone, let alone you. You beat his score on the Marksmanship Qualification Program by three points, and he’s yet to live it down.

“There’s clear intent here.” You said.

“Sure there is.” He replied. “The intent to make me waste my time.”

Juliet, ever the diplomat of the pair, offered another perspective. “It could be just someone with a grudge against these restaurants, like maybe a competitor trying to scare their rivals.”

“Or…” Shawn trailed off as he leaned dramatically against the doorframe. “...A ghost chef exacting revenge on the living.”

Lassiter rolled his eyes. “No one asked you, Spencer.” Shawn sauntered into the room, unfazed.

“I’m just saying,” Shawn continued, “if you put the napkins together, they could spell out an ancient recipe for vengeance.”

“Vengeance stew,” Gus muttered nervously, adjusting his tie.

You ignored them both, instead turning to Chief Vick. “This feels calculated. The phrasing, the escalation… This is building towards something bigger.”

Chief Vick looked skeptical, but sighed. “Keep me updated. I can’t justify allocating more resources to this until we have more to go on.”

Lassiter smirked as he left. “Don’t worry Bureau, I’m sure you’ll crack the code of the magical napkins before the lunch rush.”

You didn’t rise to the bait.

The next crime scene was no laughing matter.

Yellow tape stretched across the high-end bistro, chicly named La Table Éclair. The tables were overturned, chairs in disarray, and broken locks littered the floor. No one batted an eye at that when they realized what was in the center of it all. A severed hand, palm-up, on the mahogany bar.

“The hand that feeds will starve,” you muttered, reading the scribbled napkin next to it. “The ring binds no more.”

Gus took one look at the grisly scene and promptly fainted, crumpling into a heap at Shawn’s feet.

“Gus!” Shawn exclaimed, catching him with surprising ease. “Buddy! Stay with me. You’re too beautiful for the floor!” Your eyes were trained on the evidence, cameras flashing from the crime scene photographers just over your shoulder. Shawn set his best friend down gently before approaching to get a better look.

Despite the grim atmosphere, Shawn couldn’t resist leaning closer to the dismembered hand. “Well, look at you, Lefty,” he said, as if addressing an old friend. “You’ve really let yourself go. What happened? Bad breakup? Lost your grip on life?”

You could almost feel the warning look Juliet gave him, but you were too busy analyzing everything about the scene in front of you.

Gus started to come to, standing up slowly and trying to pretend like that never happened. You almost had to laugh; how many crime scenes had this poor man been dragged to? He stood next to Shawn, whispering. They did that a lot, you noticed.

You tried to look at Lassiter, in part to ask what he was thinking and in part to see if he realized just how wrong he was yet. Realistically, you knew better. Even when he knows he’s wrong, he rarely will admit it. He avoided your gaze. Shawn notices this and starts speaking loudly. “You know you’ve really gotta hand it to Detective Lethal Weapon over there. Look who was right all along, Lassie.” You smirked at his comment.

“Bag up the hand.” Said Chief Vick. “We’ll have Woody take a look at it.”

Back at the station, you and your colleagues stood in the autopsy room sharing theories.

“Clearly, this is the work of someone who couldn’t hand-le the heat in the kitchen. Look at the message! ‘The hand that feeds will starve?’ That is some classic chef drama. They are probably sautéing vengeance as we speak.” Shawn quipped.

“It’s obvious what is happening. These are just vandals who started with pranks and decided to up the ante for attention. Leaving the hand is just a sick calling card. Probably some wannabe gang trying to cause chaos.” Lassiter replied.

“I don’t know about that, Lassiter. It feels like whoever did this wasn’t just targeting the restaurant– they were targeting someone connected to it.” Juliet added.

Shawn rolled his eyes. “It seems like you are forgetting there’s a handless Joe walking around here, Lassie.”

“I think you mean a handless Jane.” Woody said as he entered the conversation. “This is clearly a ladies hand.” The team all turned to look at him as he continued. “This is classic intimidation. And the cut on the hand is jagged, probably done while the victim was still alive, and certainly not done by any professional. This is just like those old mob cases I read about! Except, with fewer italian accents and even more bistros”

“Wait!” Shawn said. “I’m getting a vision!” He said as he put his hand to his temple. He then looked at that hand, confused. He grabbed his hand with the other one and slammed it on the table. He then mimicked the motion of chopping it off. Lassiter rolled his eyes, and Chief Vick and Juliet looked at him with mild concern. You, of course, barely noticed, too lost in your own thoughts about the case.

“I’ve got it!” Shawn finally said.

“Spencer, if you say one word about the mob even once, I swear I will have you arrested for obstruction.” Lassiter replied.

Shawn ignored him. “It was-”

You interrupt. “What about the ring?”

Everyone paused. They turn to you like they just noticed you were even here.

“The ring?” Woody asked.

“Yes. Can I see it?” You asked him.

He seemed confused until it dawned on him that you are onto something. He grabbed the ring as you gloved up your hands, before handing it over to you.

You analyzed this ring. There was nothing particularly amazing about it. It was a simple gold band, delicate and feminine, with a square cut ruby gem. The gem was nothing to sneeze at, but certainly not your taste. You then noticed some engraving on the inside of the band.

“MK.” You said aloud.

“Who’s MK?” Juliet asked.

“Michael Keaton?” Shawn added, playfully.

“Hopefully it’s not Mila Kunis.” Added Gus.

“Will both of you just shut u-” Lassiter says before a loud beep interrupts him. Woody quickly runs over to the source of the sound, his computer.

“It looks like we have a hit on the fingerprints. This lovely limb belongs to none other than Isabelle Noir.” He said.

“Isabelle Noir?” Juliet asked. “The famous lockpick?”

“That could be the message the culprit is trying to send.” Chief Vick said. “The hand of a lockpick? Broken locks?”

“But what did Isabelle have to do with all of this?” Juliet asked.

Isabelle Noir was more than a lockpick, but a local legend. However, after serving her last bit of time she had been completely off the radar.

“If this involves Noir, there’s more than enough people who would like to take a shot at her.” Lassiter said.

Chief Vick folded her arms, her expression dark. “We need to figure out who would go to such extremes to send a message—and why now.”

“Maybe it’s a rival?” Juliet suggested. “Someone who wanted to take her spot as the best in the business.”

“Could be, but leaving the hand feels personal,” Lassiter interjected. “A rival wouldn’t need to make it this grotesque. It’s got vendetta written all over it.”

Shawn, who had been unusually quiet, snapped his fingers. “Isabelle isn’t the target! The culprit must be using her to get to someone else!”

Gus raised an eyebrow. “You mean like a partner in crime?”

“Exactly! Or an ex-partner in crime. What if MK doesn’t stand for a person, but a...place?” Shawn grinned, clearly pleased with himself.

Lassiter scoffed. “Oh, please, Spencer. You’re just throwing darts in the dark as usual.”

“Am I, Lassie?” Shawn replied, leaning casually on the examination table. “Think about it. Severed hand, cryptic messages, and a lockpick famous for slipping through people’s fingers—literally. It’s not about her. It’s about who she’s connected to.”

“Do you have anything resembling proof, or are we all just supposed to ride this train of baseless speculation with you?” Lassiter shot back.

Before Shawn could answer, Woody, who had been clicking through files on his computer, spun around in his chair.

“Shawn may be onto something. There was a known associate of Noir’s named Marvin Kale. He and Isabelle worked together on several heists about five years ago. Their partnership ended abruptly after a falling out. Word is, Marvin kept going while Isabelle...well, she didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?” Shawn asked.

“Didn’t want to. She turned herself in not long after, served her time, and vanished.” Woody said.

Juliet frowned. “And Marvin Kale?”

“Still active in certain circles. No arrests, but lots of rumors.” Said Woody.

“If this is about Kale, we need to track him down. Now.” Lassiter said commandingly.

“But where to start?” Said Juliet.

You looked up to see Shawn and Gus quietly exit the room, going unnoticed except for by you. You let them go, more focused on the case than anything else. “Wasn’t there supposed to be a grand opening of a new high end restaurant in Montecito tonight? Maybe it’s worth checking out.” You said.

“That’s not a bad idea.” Said Chief Vick. “What’s the name?”

“Monarch and King.” You replied.

“MK.” Lassiter added.

Chief Vick looked at her team. “We’ll be there. Detective Y/L/N, you have experience going undercover. You’ll be our covert officer. We’ll have eyes and ears inside the restaurant.”

“On it, Chief.” You replied. It had been a while since you went undercover, but you were excited to do it again.

“Do you think that’s the best idea?” Lassiter says. “Maybe I should be the one, Chief.”

“I’ve got this Lassiter.” You said confidently.

“We know you do.” Said Chief Vick. “Do us proud.”

This was the most exclusive event in Santa Barbara. The strings Chief had to pull to get you on the guest list must have been extensive. Of course it’s not you, it’s Rowan Blake. The name even sounded exclusive; like someone you have to pay to see. You put on your best attire, hoping that it was enough to at the very least go undetected. You were far from opulent, but you did clean up quite nicely, when you had the time to do so and a place to go.

Your taxi stopped, as did your racing thoughts. There was a time and a place to spiral, but this was not that time. You immediately became Rowan, and you thanked your driver with a generous tip.

The building was quite impressive; a mediterranean style like many buildings are here in Montecito. Stucco walls with soft shades of ivory and beige, ornate iron detailing, arched windows, dark wood. It was beautiful. What made it stand out the most though was a large carving in the top middle of the building, just above the grand double doors: The letters “MK.” You buried a smirk beneath your stoic expression.

As you approached the doors, the door attendant caught your eye. He looked young and nervous, like he didn’t expect to have such an important job. Poor thing, you thought to yourself. This is going to be easier than expected. You approached the desk where he stood and smiled.

“Rowan Blake?” You told him. He quickly scanned the names on the list in front of him, landing on your faux moniker. He gulped before looking up at you. “You may go in. Have a nice night.” He said with an awkward smile. You graciously smiled back and walked inside.

The interior was just as elegant as the exterior. Rich velvet curtains, polished marble floors, and intricate gold designs. There were subtle crowns adorning the walls, as well as portraits of supposed royalty. There was a large ballroom floor in the middle, likely just for this event, and plush leather chairs surrounding sturdy dark tables on the edges of the floor. Intimate booths with curtains lined the walls, as well as a large open bar. Chandeliers offered soft, low light throughout the room. You scanned the room, trying to memorize as many faces as you could while still maintaining the casual nature a typical guest would have. You walked confidently to the bar, trying to fit in as much as possible.

Once at the bar, you ordered a Vesper martini. You weren’t much of a drinker, at least not anymore, but you knew that one would take a bit to make. You listened in on the conversation nearby, but did not quite hear anything useful.

“Hello gorgeous.” A voice said behind you. Confused, you turned to face none other than Shawn Spencer. You tried to suppress your shock.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You said under your breath.

“The same thing you’re doing I presume.” He answered quietly.

You gave him a look. “Shawn-”

“It’s actually Montgomery Kinsington.” He interrupted.

You almost had to stifle a laugh. “...Seriously?”

“What?” He smirked. “Too fancy?”

He turned to the bar and called over the bartender. “Excuse me sir.” He said with an ambiguous and ridiculous accent. “I would like the Crown Jewel please.”

“Is that coming out of your pocket or Gus's?” You whispered. “That’s only the most expensive cocktail you and I have ever seen.”

He smirked once again, a Shawn Spencer special. “You know, it’s sort of like we’re on a date, Lethal Weapon.”

You returned the smirk at the nickname he had given you. “Not remotely. I’m here to solve a case. You’re here to wear a ridiculously flashy suit and order a $55 cocktail.”

“Who says you can’t do all of the above?” He smiled, grabbing his drink and sneaking off further into the party. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold in the grin that split your face.

After some scanning, you lock eyes with a man, sipping his drink. He smiled over his glass. You returned the smile. The man was decently attractive, tall with salt and pepper hair and some stubble along his jaw. His eyes never left yours as he took another sip, gesturing you over to him. During this sip, you noticed his ring. Gold with a red stone, albeit much more masculine than the one sitting in evidence currently. It certainly could be a coincidence, but your gut said to investigate, so you approached him confidently.

He smiled as you approached, shooing away the company he already had. When you got close enough to him, he leaned down to your ear so he could be heard over the music playing.

“And who may you be?” He asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You replied flirtatiously. At this, he chuckled lowly and placed his hand on the small of your back, lightly pushing you away from the rest of the crowd. You instinctively stiffened slightly, but allowed him to guide you wherever he wished to go, keeping your guard as high as it could be.

“How about if you tell me your name…” He said, lightly pushing you to a booth for more privacy. “...I’ll tell you mine.”

You smirked. “My name is Rowan. Rowan Blake.” You said.

He rested his head behind your ear. “That’s quite lovely. I haven’t seen you around, are you new to the area?”

You reached the booth and sat down. “Not so fast, you haven’t even told me your name yet.”

He grinned, sitting down and pulling the curtains closed. “I’m Mr. Kale, but I let pretty people like you call me Marvin.” He pauses while he takes another long sip of his drink. “I don’t believe we’ve met, have we? Are you new to the area?” “You are just full of questions, aren’t you… Marvin.” You replied coyly.

He chuckles. “It just seems like you’re not really here. Like you’re only observing and not participating.”

You grin. “You can say I’m just here for the entertainment. I’m not really in the business of entertaining myself, really.”

“Really? I find you quite entertaining.” He says. “So what’s your story?”

“Not much of a story to tell. I’m just here for some fun. But I have a feeling there’s more going on around here than meets the eye. What do you think?” You ask him.

Marvin leaned in slightly, his voice dropping low. “There’s always more than meets the eye, isn’t there? Some people can’t see it. They’re too busy looking at the surface, missing the important stuff.”

“Is that so?” You replied.

“Oh painfully so. But there are also those people like the two of us. Dancing around the truth, yet it is so deliciously obvious. People like us? We don’t mind a little game. It keeps things lively.” He answered.

You batted your eyelashes at him. “And what kind of game are we playing?”

Just then the curtains are yanked back. You both are startled and look at who ruined your conversation, only to meet the face of Shawn Spencer. Typical.

“This isn’t my booth! So sorry to interrupt you two.” He said.

“Not a problem.” Marvin replied.

Shawn shot you a knowing look before closing the curtains. You looked back at the man across from you, trying to get back to where you were.

“Let’s take this somewhere more private.” He said, getting up. He took your hand and helped you out of your seat before walking you back through a door on the side of the room. Alarm bells started going off in your head, but your search for answers muffled the sound.

The room was lit by a singular candle on a table sitting in the very center. Two chairs sat across each other, and the room smelled slightly of bergamot. Marvin led you in before shutting the door behind you.

“How did you know this was here?” You asked. While you tried to remain flirtatious, you feared that it came across as a bit fearful. Whether or not he caught it, you weren’t sure.

“Did I forget to mention?” He said. He raised your hand and gave a soft kiss to your knuckles. “This is my establishment.”

Your eyebrows raised. “I didn’t realize.”

He chuckled at that. “There’s a lot to learn about me, Rowan.”

Illuminated by candle light, he poured two glasses of wine. You had enough sense to know that if you have any of that, he has to have some first. To reassure you, he took a sip from his glass. You followed suit, taking a much smaller sip.

“I must be honest Rowan. I would very much like to kiss you.” He said softly.

You tensed up internally, hoping that he couldn’t tell. “Well. What’s stopping you?” You replied.

He laughed softly before reaching up to cup your face. Your head started spinning. What’s going on? You thought to yourself.

Before you can even think, Marvin collapsed. You had to steady yourself on the table, fighting whatever was taking control of your system. Just then, the door swung open, and through the light flooding the room, you realized that you are not alone. A figure stood in the darkness the whole time. You fell to your knees, clutching the edge of the table for any sort of stability. In your final moments of consciousness, you realized that Shawn is who entered the room. You tried to muster the strength to warn him when everything goes black.

You woke up slowly, head heavy, to find yourself bound to a harsh wooden chair. You could feel rough rope digging into your wrists tied behind your back. It took a few seconds but you regained feeling in your shoulders, unfortunately. Every joint in your body hurt like hell, like you hadn’t moved in 10 years.

Again, you felt the presence of others, and you slowly lifted your head as much as you could to find two, also unconscious and bound to chairs surrounding a table. Across from you was Marvin and a woman you did not recognize. The woman was not bound by her arms, though they were tied behind her back, but instead bound around her chest and abdomen to the chair. She had dark, disheveled hair, and her head hung backwards over the back of her seat.

As you regained your strength, you were able to lift your head more, taking in the surroundings of the room you were in. It was elegant, but old and dusty, like it had been forgotten about for some time. You turned to your left and your stomach dropped. Another person was tied next to you: Shawn, still unconscious. The sight of him jump started you, and you started pulling at the rope holding you. You pulled with such force you almost knocked your chair down backwards, and your skin started to burn. You cursed under your breath.

“Giving up already, Detective?” A voice said from behind you. You stilled. Shawn started to slowly wake up, as did Marvin and the mysterious woman across from you.

You heard heels clicking on the ground, coming your way. Eventually, a woman walked into your line of sight. She looked polished, with a dark red gown and a modest updo. She smiled.

“The guests are finally arriving, but I didn’t expect to have you two here.” She said gesturing to yourself and Shawn. “What a lovely turn of events.”

“What is this?” You ask.

She giggled. “Well, it’s a feast, silly!” She said, hands clasped in front of her. You noticed her choice in jewelry. Gold band, red square cut stone. “Let me introduce myself. My name is Marisol Kane. It’s lovely to meet you, Detective.”

The woman across the table spoke up quietly. “Marisol, let these people go.”

“I don’t want to hear one word out of your whore mouth, Isabelle.” She replied, warmth suddenly gone.

“What is this about?” Marvin said, finally conscious.

“What is this about? This is about you stealing the woman I love and turning her against me!” Marisol yelled, brandishing a knife.

“Allow me.” Shawn quipped. You wished you could stop him but even with free arms there is nothing to stop that mouth from running.

“It starts with you, Isabelle Noir. You’re the stuff of criminal legend. The Picasso of lockpicking, except instead of painting, you were cracking safes and stealing hearts. And then, one day, you vanished. No goodbye, no farewell tour, just poof—gone. Everyone assumed you’d gone straight or, at the very least, decided to retire somewhere with a beach and a fruity drink. But no. You’ve been here. Hiding. Because someone made sure you couldn’t run.

And that someone? Marisol Kane. Marisol, your obsession with Isabelle is, how do I put this delicately, certifiable. You were her best friend, but secretly, you wanted to be so much more. And when you found out she said yes to Marvin—Marvin! Of all people—something in your brain just… snapped. You couldn’t stand the idea of Isabelle loving anyone else, especially not him.

So, what did you do? You decided to get back at Marvin for all the pain that he caused you. By leaving his fiancée’s severed hand at a rival eatery, adorned with the ring he gave her. You meticulously left a trail of breadcrumbs leading us all the way to Mr. Kale himself, hoping that the initials alone would be enough. You’ve been pulling the strings this whole time, letting him twist in guilt and regret while you’ve been keeping Isabelle locked away like some tragic fairytale villain. But that wasn’t enough for you, was it?

No, you’re not just satisfied with Marvin’s misery. You want revenge. And what better way to get back at him than to kill the woman he loved, right in front of him? Let him watch as you take away the one person he couldn’t protect. It’s dark, it’s twisted, it’s, honestly, a little too on the nose, but hey, points for commitment.

But you forgot one teensy little detail. Me, Shawn Spencer, psychic detective. I knew your whole plan all along, and trust me, law enforcement is already on their way.” Shawn leaned closer to you and whispered. “They are on their way, right?”

Marisol slammed her knife on the table.

“That’s not all…” Continued Shawn. “The worst part is, no matter how this goes, Isabelle is never going to love you the way you love her.”

Marisol looked at him, engulfed in rage. “That’s enough. You think you know everything. But you don’t. Not yet anyway.” She took your chair and pulled you closer to her, picking up the knife and holding it to your neck.

Shawn’s grin dropped.

“You know how I feel, loving someone who does not feel the same.” She pressed the knife further into your skin. “Now you get to watch as they die.”

Your eyes widened and your life flashed before your eyes. Was this really your final moment?

“Don’t do this!” Shawn yelled.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.” Marisol replied.

Shawn paused. “Because you’ll never get away with it.” He said.

Marisol shrugged. “Oh well.” She began to push the knife further when Shawn spoke up again.

“Because what will it prove?”

Marisol laughed chillingly. “Not good enough, Spencer.”

You steeled your expression and prepared to greet death when Shawn spoke up one final time.

“Because if you hurt Y/N, you will spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder, praying that you don’t find me.”

That gave everyone a pause, including you. Marisol loosened her grip on you slightly, before chuckling.

“Love is weakness, Shawn.” She replied.

Suddenly the doors swung open and police entered the room, led by Lassiter and Juliet. Marisol pressed the knife tighter to your neck, using you as a human shield.

“Put the weapon down now!” Lassiter commands.

Marisol refused, staring coldly at the weapon pointed directly at her.

“You don’t want to do this, you could walk away from this.” Juliet added.

Marisol laughed sadly, before looking over at Isabelle. Isabelle silently pleaded with her to put down the weapon. She did not.

“I was never going to walk away from this.” She murmured under her breath before slamming the knife into your shoulder. You barely registered the pain, just as you barely registered the sounds of gunfire and Marisol’s collapsing body. Her grip on the knife remained, and she yanked it out of your wound on her way down.

Everything started moving in slow motion. You could hear yelling. Was that Lassiter calling for paramedics? You couldn’t be sure. Your shoulder felt warm and wet, and then the pain set in. A loud noise ripped throughout the room, and it took just a moment to realize it came from you.

You looked at Juliet, your friend and confidant. You had never seen such concern across her face. She rushed over to you and untied you, gently lowering you to the floor. Your whole arm and chest felt like it was on fire. Shawn and Gus appeared next to you too, though you could barely see through the spots in your vision. How’d Gus get here? Am I dying? You thought to yourself. No. Not yet. You’re just in shock. Even in this state you had to be the voice of reason.

Juliet applied pressure to the wound. Shawn shouted at someone you couldn’t see, and Gus grabbed your other hand, holding it tightly. You could hear the other officers securing the scene, moving what you assumed to be Marvin and Isabelle out of the way.

“You are going to be okay, you can’t die on me yet.” Shawn’s voice cut through the noise. “Not when there’s so much left for me to tell you.”

It took everything in you to move your eyes over to meet his. He looked as if he was going to cry. You mustered out a faint. “Not… going… anywhere.”

As you slipped from consciousness, you saw the lights of the ambulance through a crack in the wall, and then nothing.

The antiseptic smell hit you first, then the faint beeping of the machinery you were hooked up to. You knew exactly where you were, Santa Barbara Cottage Hospital. You hoped you never got used to waking up in this fashion, head heavy and eyes blurred. Your eyes fluttered open, taking in the bland atmosphere and the warm sunlight coming in through the blinds. The room was standard and cold, but your eyes lit up when you saw who was there.

Shawn, Gus, Juliet, Lassiter, and even Chief Vick, all lost in conversation.

“You know, maybe we should throw a big party. Maybe with a ‘Congratulations on Not Dying’ banner. Thoughts?” Shawn asked.

Gus rolled his eyes. “No, Shawn. You don’t just throw parties for someone in the hospital.”

“Why not? It’s uplifting! I’ll get balloons and a cake that says ‘Y/N, Please Never Scare Us Like That Again.’” Shawn replied.

“It’s not the worst idea you’ve ever had.” Juliet added.

Lassiter crossed his arms. “The worst idea he ever had was pretending to be a psychic.”

“That is your small-minded interpretation of my God-given abilities.” Shawn replied, mockingly offended.

“Here we go.” Gus said.

You stirred and the team turned to look at you. They sighed a collective sigh of relief.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Juliet said. You smiled weakly in reply.

“How are you feeling?” Shawn asked.

“They almost bled out after being stabbed in the shoulder, how do you think they are feeling?” Gus added.

“You gave us a real scare back there, Bureau. Next time, try not to throw yourself into danger like some action movie hero.” Lassiter said.

“Yeah Y/N, how dare you do something brave and selfless. Lassie would prefer you to run away screaming.” Shawn quipped.

“I’d prefer for you to not end up in the hospital.” Lassiter said, grumbling.

“Lassiter just means we’re all really glad you’re okay.” Juliet added.

You smiled. Chief Vick spoke up. “We’re really proud of your bravery, and we’re glad to see you back.” She turned to everyone else. “Let’s give Detective Y/L/N some space.”

As the team left, you mustered the strength to speak. “Hey Lassiter.” You said. He turned back to look at you. “Nice shot.” You said and he almost cracked a smile.

“Considering your score on the Marksmanship Qualif-” You continued.

Lassiter interrupted by rolling his eyes and swiftly walking out of the room. Even Chief Vick smirked a bit at that.

Gus and Shawn were the last to leave. They headed toward the door when Shawn suddenly stopped. Gus turned to look at him and Shawn gestured for him to go ahead. Gus looked back at you and then back at Shawn. “Don’t say anything stupid.” He said.

He just grinned and looked at the floor in return. Gus smiled at you before walking out of the room.

Shawn turned back to you, eyes still on the floor and hands in his pockets. He walked back to sit down next to you.

“So, what are all the things you haven’t told me yet?” You asked.

He finally looked up at you. “You remember that?” He asked back.

“Answer my question first.” You said.

He chuckled a bit. After a moment he finally spoke up. “You scared the hell out of me,” he said softly, his voice unusually sincere. “I thought I lost you back there.”

You began to speak but he stopped you and continued. “I’ve been doing this thing where I crack jokes and avoid feelings because, you know, feelings are terrifying. But seeing you like that, seeing you hurt, it made me realize I can’t keep avoiding this.”

He leaned closer, his expression raw and unguarded. “I’m in love with you. There, I said it. I love you. I love the way you see the world, the way you keep me grounded when my brain’s flying off in eight different directions. I love the way you call me out when I’m being ridiculous and how you secretly laugh at my jokes when you think I’m not looking, and-”

You smiled and interrupted him. “Shawn.”

He looked back at you, looking completely vulnerable. You didn’t mind it, seeing him this way. It was different.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“I love you too.”

His face lit up and he let out a small, incredulous laugh. “You do?”

“Always have.” You admitted.

Shawn blinked, clearly taken aback. For once in his life, he was speechless. He ran a hand through his hair, his usual smirk replaced with a genuine, boyish grin.

"Wow," he finally said, sitting back slightly but still leaning close enough that you could see the sparkle in his eyes. "Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. I mean, I hoped. But hearing it? That’s...wow."

You chuckled softly, wincing a little at the motion, and Shawn immediately leaned forward, concern flashing across his face.

"Hey, hey, no laughing if it hurts," he said, his voice soft but firm. "Doctor Shawn prescribes...uh...smiling. Smiling’s safer."

"Smiling’s overrated," you teased, even as a small grin crept across your face.

"Not when you do it," he shot back, the flirtation in his tone genuine, not just his usual banter.

For a moment, there was silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Shawn reached out hesitantly, his hand brushing against yours on the bed.

“You know Gus sped me to the hospital in his work car? It may not look it but that thing can go pretty fas-”

"Shawn," you said.

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me already."

His eyes widened slightly, but only for a second before he leaned in. The kiss was gentle at first, as if he was afraid to hurt you, but it didn’t take long for him to melt into it. His hand moved up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

When he pulled back, his smile was brighter than you’d ever seen it.

"Okay, officially the best day ever," he said, his voice breathless.

"Even better than the time you solved the case of the stolen pineapple?" you teased.

"Way better," he said without hesitation. "Though we might need to commemorate this moment with a pineapple smoothie. For tradition, obviously."

You shook your head, laughing softly. "You’re impossible."

"And you’re stuck with me now," he said, grinning. "Forever."

"Forever doesn’t sound so bad," you replied, and the way he looked at you in that moment made you feel like it really wouldn’t be.

#shawn spencer oneshot #shawn spencer #psych #psych fanfiction #james roday rodriguez

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riptidewaters · 11 months ago

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Lover

(Harry Potter x fem! Reader! (NAMED)

Charlotte scribbled random lyrics on the parchment she had gotten, the quiet of the library comforted her,

‘Ladies and gentlemen will you please stand?

With every guitar string scar on my hand,

I take this magnetic force of a man to be my,

Lover’

She hummed slightly, making up her own tune, ‘Charlotte!’ Her head shot up, looking at her friend, ‘You coming? We have transfiguration in 10.’ Nodding and getting up hastily, Charlotte gathered her things, not noticing the parchment she had been writing on, had been left behind.

‘Sod off Ron.’ Harry said, declining him having a crush on Ginny, he entered the library and shot a slight smile to the librarian. He walked towards a desk and sat down taking his books and parchment out of his book bag and placing them in front of him, when he noticed a piece of slightly yellowed parchment innocently sitting on the desk, pulling the piece of paper towards him and glanced at the hastily scribbled writing on the paper, smiling and reading the lyrics he jotted down his own, adding the words under the previously written verse,

‘Look in my eyes, They will tell you the truth,

The girl in my story will always be you,

I’d go down with the titanic it’s true,

For you…..Lover’

He smiled to himself, leaving the parchment where he found it, not knowing who the original writer was but feeling a strange connection to them.

---

Charlotte came back to the library later, realizing she’d left her lyrics behind. She was surprised to find someone had added to them, and the new lines felt like they were meant just for her. Her friends, noticing her excitement, started teasing her.

“Looks like you’ve got a secret admirer!” one of them joked.

“Your perfect match, writing love songs for you,” another chimed in.

Blushing, but intrigued, Charlotte decided to add another verse, leaving the parchment on the desk again.

---

The next day, Harry returned to the library, surprised but pleased to find the parchment still there. And now, there was more:

Harry’s heart raced as he added his own lines beneath hers.

Feeling bold, he grabbed another piece of parchment and wrote:

“Are you real, or am I just dreaming? Leave me another verse, and maybe one day we’ll meet. – Your Songmate”

He left the two parchments together on the desk, hoping whoever wrote the first part would respond.

---

Days passed, and Charlotte and Harry continued their secret exchange through the parchment, each adding verses and little notes, never revealing their identities. Charlotte found herself thinking more and more about her mystery songmate, while Harry couldn’t stop wondering who the girl behind the lyrics was. His friends started noticing how lost in thought he’d become.

“Harry, what’s got you smiling like that all the time?” Ron asked, nudging him.

“Yeah, you’ve been really happy lately,” Hermione added, her brow furrowed.

But Harry just shrugged them off, keeping his secret.

---

One day, Harry was walking through the corridor when he spotted a notebook lying on the floor. He picked it up, and when he opened it, his breath caught. The handwriting was the same as the one on the parchment—the same lyrics that had been keeping him up at night.

Just then, Charlotte came hurrying down the hall, eyes wide as she saw him holding her notebook.

“Thank you, Harry,” she said, a little breathless as she took it from him.

He watched her walk away, his mind spinning. Now he knew—his mystery girl, the one he’d been writing songs with, was Charlotte.

---

After that, Harry couldn't help but watch Charlotte a little more closely, noticing the way she hummed to herself, or how her eyes lit up when she was deep in thought. He still hadn’t told her he knew, but there was something comforting about knowing that the girl who had captured his heart through music was right there, within reach.

---

Charlotte’s heart was racing as she walked away from Harry in the hallway. She could feel his eyes on her, and a part of her wanted to turn around, to see if he knew. But she couldn’t. Not yet.

Over the next few days, the song exchanges stopped. Harry couldn’t bring himself to add anything new, not when he already knew the truth. Charlotte noticed the silence, and it started to gnaw at her. Had her mystery songmate lost interest? Or had she been too late to figure out who he was?

She was about to give up when one day, she found another piece of parchment tucked into her Transfiguration book. It wasn’t the usual lyrics they’d been sharing. This one was different.

*Harry's Note:*

“I think it’s time we met.

Tonight by the lake, after everyone’s gone to bed.

If you’re real, if you’re the one I’ve been writing with,

I’ll be there, waiting.

– H”

Charlotte stared at the note, her heart pounding. She knew who “H” was, of course. But did he really know it was her? She folded the parchment and tucked it into her robe, her mind made up. She’d go. She had to know.

---

That night, Charlotte slipped out of the castle, her heart hammering with each step toward the lake. The moon was high, casting a silver glow over the water. She saw him then, standing by the edge, his back to her. Harry.

For a moment, she hesitated, her nerves threatening to get the best of her. But then she remembered the words they’d shared, the connection that had grown between them, and she knew she had to go through with this.

“Harry,” she called out softly.

He turned, and their eyes met. For a second, neither of them moved, the air thick with everything unsaid. Then Harry smiled, that familiar, lopsided grin that made her feel like everything would be okay.

“So it’s you,” he said, stepping closer. “I had a feeling it might be.”

Charlotte let out a shaky laugh. “You’re not disappointed, are you?”

“Disappointed?” Harry shook his head, taking her hands in his. “Not even close. You’re the one I’ve been writing with, the one who’s been in my head, in my heart, all this time.”

“I can’t believe it was you,” Charlotte whispered, feeling the warmth of his hands. “I thought I was just dreaming.”

“Me too,” Harry said, his voice soft. “But this is real. We’re real.”

For a moment, they just stood there, hands intertwined, the night wrapping around them like a blanket. It felt like they were the only two people in the world.

Then, almost without thinking, Charlotte started to sing the last verse of the song they’d been writing together.

And you'll save all your

dirtiest jokes for me

And at every table, I'll save you

a seat, lover (Save you a seat)

Harry smiled, his voice joining hers as they sang the final lines together.

“Can I go where you go?

(Can I go where you go, baby?)

Can we always be this

close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out, and take

me home (Forever and ever)

You're my, my, my, my

Oh, you're my, my, my, my

Darling, you're my, my, my, my lover”

As the last note hung in the air, Harry leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers. “This is just the beginning,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin.

Charlotte smiled, closing her eyes. “Yeah. It is.”

---

And so, what started as scribbles on a forgotten piece of parchment became something more—a song that brought two hearts together, a story that was only just beginning. For Charlotte and Harry, the song would always be theirs, a reminder of the night they found each other, and the love that had been there all along.

#harry james potter x reader #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #hogwarts au #taylor swift #shawn mendes #lovers #love #hermione granger #ron weasley #imagine #harry potter imagine #oneshot #fluff #cute

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leiistqrs · 2 years ago

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there is a lack of shawn hunter content on here and i’m not here for it

#──★ ˙dal declarations !!#shawn hunter #shawn hunter x reader #shawn hunter imagine #shawn hunter oneshot #boy meets world

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superwholocked2016 · 2 years ago

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If Psych had a Muppet movie

- Lassiter is the resident human

- Muppet Shawn! Is unaware that he is a muppet and is just like *gets hit by three consecutive pianos* “Wow! This should’ve killed me… I must be built different”

- Cookie Monster chomping down scene but it’s Gus and Shawn and a bunch of pharmaceutical pills for some reason

- A lot of famous puppet references

- “I’d rather be David Bowie in ‘The Dark Crystal’ right now.”

- “Gus don’t be a sock being controlled by a hand”

- “Gus don’t be whatever is happening between Bert and Ernie.”

- Let Juliet kick someone Miss Piggy style

- I don’t think Woody should be a Muppet, he should be a Oobi

- I think the bad guy should be hit by a bus and then it pans over to Gus and he goes “This is why you look both ways kids.”

- When Lassiter tries to do serious paperwork and turn it into Karen it turns into a song about paperwork

- Lassiter strangling Shawn but now it’s 10x funnier

- There’s so many famous people but none of them are important at all, Lassiter sits at a bar turns his head and Pedro Pascal is sipping a Shirley Temple and behind him is Clint Eastwood hands deep in some bar nuts

- “Gus don’t be a tennis ball who likes to play banjo”

- Let someone.. anyone cuss

- More points if the only scene of Shawn’s dad is him walking in the precinct saying “Fuck off.” And him walking straight back out

- Let Lassiter have a full song to himself, I need him to have a full ‘Man or Muppet’ type song

- Girlboss Gaslight- Juliet gets to shoot people like a Wilkins coffee ad

#Psych #shawn spencer #the muppets #it’s all i want #it’s all i need #i might draw this #and write an accompanying oneshot

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16ferrari · 2 months ago

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Casual dominance with Jack is him putting you in your place when you decide to get too bratty for him. he'll give you a stern and firm look that said more than a thousand words, which made you stop all the actions you were doing to rill him up.

he's the type when you talk back to him, he'll say gently but in a warning tone to you not to do that again, which shuts you up pretty fast when you see that dark and a tin of you'll see what happens to you look in his eyes.

whenever you're both out in public you'd do anything to tease him and make fun of him in public with his friends. But, all that stops once he places a firm grip on the back of your neck, pulling you back towards him to whisper in your ear " honey I'd advise you to stop that now" and place a kiss to your earlobe, giving you one last squeeze before letting go, going back to talking to his friends.

he's the type to shut you down whenever you come home from work with a bad attitude and try to shut him out. "Y/n talk to me" Jack ran a hand through his curls, jaw getting tighter as his frustration set in when you stubbornly shook your head no at him again. He would walk up to you and grab ahold of your jaw and make you confess all the stuff that led up to you having a bad day. Which he would then fuck you rough and long to make you forget about your bad day, plus he'd add in bonus ass spankings for giving him an attitude all day when he was only trying to help.

he's the type to tug your skirt down whenever it rides up your thighs, which makes him pissed off because he knows you specifically choose to wear that tiny skirt just to piss him off, even after you told him how much you hate it. "told you not to wear it" he'd say keeping a hand on your backside in case it decides to ride up again.

"Shouldn't have yelled at me, then we wouldn't be in this situation'" you rolled your eyes at him. Choosing to cross your arms instead of holding his hand. He'd stop walking and take off his sweatshirt to tie around your waist, which you tried to protest and take it off but he slapped your hand away.

"Just for that, you brat, we're going home now" he said his voice clearly showed he was fed up with you.

you'd sigh and continue walking. "don't wanna go home" you whined like a pathetic child.

"y/n stop" you didn't listen to him, which made him repeat himself, he hates doing that. "Y/n stop now" you froze hearing that warning tone "we're going home" you listened that time.

A/n: I’ve looked at this for so long that I can’t tell if I like it or hate it? Anyways enjoy!

#jack abbot #jack abbot smut #jack abbot oneshot #jack abbot x reader #jack abbot x you #jack abbot fanfic #jack abbot imagine #jack abbot fluff #the pitt #the pitt x you #the pitt x reader #the pitt imagine #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt smut #shawn hatosy

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sacr3d-joeyxx · 1 year ago

Text

Overcoming Demons

Joey x Fem!Reader

Request from: iminlovewithmycarrrr

*Could you do a Joey jordison x reader where the reader is a vocalist and guitarist for a black metal band (she can scream and sing very well) and her band keeps playing the same gigs as slipknot and he just gets obsessed with the way she performs. The guys all tell Joey to ask her out*

Quinn’s POV

The crowd went wild as we performed our last song.. I said thank you and that it was a joy playing for Des Moines, Iowa. We as Ritualistic Suicide was done for the night. I was in love with the sound of encores and some occasional ‘I love you’.

It wasn’t hard to perform but it did come with its massive drawbacks, well just for me of course..Having to scream but also having to balance it with singing was hard. I got into black metal at the ripe age of 19 and I was sold when I heard the screams it was a form of art to me. Screaming is what I wanted to do nothing else but when we had to kick out the guitarist for getting arrested because of drugs but let’s get this straight there’s nothing wrong with doing drugs in this band but when we started to actually get gigs and record deals we all went cold turkey; well except him and he started to get involved with the law and then we all knew that the dude just simply had to go. I then took his spot after that. It sucked mostly because he named the band but it was whatever. So my job was now vocals and guitar…not impossible but it was in the beginning. I just had to learn differently, it took a lot of practice but it worked!

This time the black blood came out at the right time, it actually came out! It goes with our new single called ‘Homicide’ which ends with us covered in fake blood by it coming out near our eyes, mouths, ears and hands while playing. It’s kinda hard to explain how it works but anywhere you have tubing on your face you cover it with black face paint to balance it out; the tubes are a solid black color and it’s mechanically released with a push button that someone pushes backstage for us. It makes us look like we’re performing a sacrifice..I guess.. but a couple of drawbacks is it stains your skin like no other.. the other is getting it off your equipment..you see I have a pure white guitar, our bassist has a blood red one…you leave it on too long..well it’s fucking over..

Honestly I’d say the best part of this whole thing is a couple of things actually, first one is seeing the crowd; the way they listen to the music and move with the rhythm is a fish out of water experience. The second one is hearing our music on the radio or it getting mentioned in any form of media. Lastly getting all our cosmetics on, no black metal band is allowed to preform without it; well you can it’s just frowned upon in this profession. It’s funny seeing your closet friend’s faces in basically all white. You think you’re in a dream or something when you first start to put it on.

The best part about doing the makeup is the designs, most of the white face paint ends up in my hair by the end of the show, I look 50+ years older when I step off the stage. It comes out..kinda but it’s still going to be there for a couple of weeks..You’ll find white spots on your skin where you thought it was gone. It hides our face I guess but not really.. the band that almost always plays after us, especially when it’s a gig that could be a mix of all sorts of bands. They wear masks and red jumpsuits..crazy how much they look like a band in them. They are called Slipknot but I don’t know much about them really except for the band having nine people. I mean we have five people but nine is way too much yet they make it work.

Honestly they really intimidating, like they could all definitely be serial killers.. but they are the way they are for reasons. I’m taller than their drummer..he’s gotta be 5’3 or something. I’m 5’10..but there’s nothing wrong with short kings. I do think he’s kinda funny though, he’s just a mass of passion and speed. You could obviously tell when he plays that he enjoys what he does.

Any second now our drummer is gonna need my help to get the kick drum get in the case. The stage was already set and what not when we got there but literally 2 hours before opening Cam did something to it and just didn’t sound right anymore. Lucky for us I told him to pack an extra..of course he did but it’s fucking funny how the kick drum couldn’t survive a practice session.. nonetheless we fixed it just in time.

“Quinn! I need help..the kick drum..I can’t get it in the case!”

Bingo, like fucking clock work. I chuckled to myself as I walked over there and looked how it was placed in the case.

“Well, no shit..if you haven’t noticed.. you forgot to fold in the foam in the corner on the right..just tuck it back in”

He looked at me then itched his head, and went to go fix it before closing it and giving me a thumbs up..I rolled my eyes and turned to walk offstage..Now I had to find three others, it won’t be hard because they are in one of three places. The green-room, signings, or loading things on the bus. Normally we’d do signings but last time we did that someone brought a human skull..nothing wrong with that but none of us wanted to deface someone’s mom. So they’re not doing that…honestly I’m going go to go with the green-room; Declan, Mex, and Juz are all fat..not really but they have a tendency to stuff their faces with food after a performance like that.

I hope I’m not scarring any ‘normal person’ in my adventure to find the three stooges, but I probably will..It appears to always happen.

*Whatever the fucking sound is called when two people bump into each other when neither is paying attention.*

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Joey’s POV

She looked like a god..an immortal god…I don’t think I’ll ever be able to explain what she does to me. The makeup, her clothes, her hair.. she looked perfect..to me at least..I don’t think she’ll look my way..she’d have to look down as well..

I can’t remember how many times I’ve been doing the same gigs as them but it’s obvious that it’s on purpose. All of my band mates keep telling me to talk to her..I wish it was easy as that but I’m intimidated by her..she’s gotta be 6’1 and on top of that she’s in platforms..I have balls with certain things but women scare me..fucking weird how that works..your attracted to them but scared shitless of them.

Maybe I should go talk to her..fuck it…she had a great show and I should tell her..fuck it!

*Whatever the fucking sound is called when two people bump into each other when neither is paying attention.*

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Quinn’s POV

I brushed my hair out of my face and now knew why I didn’t see him..it’s cause he’s were fucking short.. but what’s funnier about this is that he’s wearing a bright red jumpsuit.

“Woah! Sorry man!”

“You’re good..I kinda was looking for you”

“Really? What do you need from me?”

“Just wanted to talk about how you preformed out there..”

“Oh..thank you! It was definitely up there with one of our first shows..mainly because it all went according to schedule…”

“You’re welcome..-“

“So sorry for cutting you off but I’ve gotta get going to find my mates, you can come along if you want..your set isn’t until 8:00pm and it’s 6:21pm now..”

“Uhhh-sure I’ve got time..”

“Cool..uhh just try and keep up, I’ve got long legs.. y’know..”

I walk fast, mean I don’t have a choice really I’ve given such long legs.. but they get longer in platforms..I turned the corner and looked at the wall with the little sign pointing left saying the green-room was that way…I looked back and the guy was still keeping up with me. Honestly he was probably sweating bullets under everything he was wearing, I would be too. I stopped before looking at the doors..bingo, found it. I looked back at him and he gave me a thumbs up..

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Joey’s POV

God..I honestly think she knows that I’m crazy about her..fuck..the things I would do to her..the bright white stage makeup with the black blood was still wet..her hands were covered in it. It looked like tree roots as it patterned up her wrists and eventually her arms. The messy jet black hair..covered in white makeup..I’m fucking obsessed with this woman..and she has to know..

“So.. you single…?”

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Quinn’s POV

I whipped my head around to him, I go wide-eyed while looking at him..I don’t know if he’s being serious or he’s just trying to be funny.

“Huh? Why are you asking..you interested?”

“……”

“Hello..I asked you a question?”

“..yeah..I am….”

“Huh..sorry I couldn’t hear you..”

“…..”

“Yeah, I am”

“You’re not like fucking with me are you?”

“….no?”

Oh so he’s actually being real..uh I don’t know what to do here I barely know him..should I give him my number.. shit I don’t know. This could be a set up from his band or mine..but I know mine wouldn’t fuck with me like this…they don’t have big enough balls to do so. He honestly doesn’t seem bad from what I can tell but he looks like he’s about to pass out from the stress of this situation..fidgety little guy..picking at his fingernails while waiting for my response.

“You’re one hundred percent positive?”

“Yes, I’m one hundred fucking percent positive..it’s a serious question..that I would like to know the answer to”

I could give him my number, I don’t have a piece of paper though.. but I happen to have a sharpie..

“Come here real quick..”

I reached into my back pocket and pulled at a sharpie as he made his way over here, I looked at him and smiled softly.

“Takes some balls to say that, y’know?”

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Joey’s POV

Okay..she took it well..maybe she’ll give me her number..oh wait she telling me to go to her..the hell is she doing digging in her back pocket..oh wait it’s a sharpie..fuck I don’t have any paper she can use..

“So..has this ever worked before?”

“Not really..I don’t don’t talk to them if I’m interested in them..they are scary..”

“Give me your hand real quick..hopefully it doesn’t rub off during your gig..”

I gave her my hand and she held it was she wrote her name and number on my hand..her hand was cold like a corpse..but who cares? I could see her looking at my chipped black fingernail polish..I looked up at her and we locked eyes for a moment.. the world went quiet and it felt like it stopped spinning..

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Quinn’s POV

I wrote my name and number on his hand and then looked at his nail polish that was black and in the process of chipping. I looked up at him and we locked eyes for a moment.. I felt the world stop I knew he did too.

“Thanks….Quinn..”

“You’re quite welcome”

“I’m going to head back now..”

“Okay..after your set come find me if we’re still here..if not then use my number.. answer it eventually”

I sighed softly as he began to walked away, I knew his gig was going to be a lot longer than ours was..they had a bigger fan base than we did but it’s whatever. I either had the choice to stay here another night or wait for him to text me.

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Joey’s POV

Fucking hell..wow I actually have her number and seems like she didn’t just give a fake one either. Okay..okay!! I guess that’s a win for me..

#joey jordison #corey taylor #sid wilson #chris fehn #craig jones #jim root #mick thomson #shawn crahan #paul gray #on my knees #oneshot #short story #oc #slipknot

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starburstsamo · 20 days ago

Text

take control, please own me; only love can save me

pairing: sammy bryant x f!reader

warnings: smut (unprotected sex, oral - f!receiving, fingering, some spanking, pussy slapping, light bondage - handcuffs); use of drugs (weed), and fluffff. also, reader has hair long enough to braid it.

summary: it seems unfair to you that you never got to smoke weed with sammy

w/c: approx 6.6k

a/n: so here’s the thing. on some occasions, i get inspired and write something. but i can’t, for the love of god, manage a blog. this is the occasion. and while i love pope and jack, i couldn’t stop the fall that this guy here is responsible for. i hope you enjoy him just as much as i do!🥹🧡

“I gotta say, I’d never would have guessed that a guy like you would make me cum so easily.”

“A guy like me?” Sammy’s face scrunched up in offense, looking at you from his position on his back.

You turned your face to him, your chest expanding with deep breaths, matching his own. His skin glowed with all the sweat that was the result of your morning sexcapades, the short her around his ear also damp.

“Well, you know. A cop. They are usually all talk, no game. But then again, you are too sweet for a cop, too.”

He let out a deep breath as his heart finally slowed, his face turning to the ceiling for a split second and his eyelids fluttering before his eyes locked with yours again.

“You wanna tell me how many cops you’ve dated?” he asked, rising an eyebrow as he propped himself on his forearm, his body moving closer towards yours. It was almost like he was a magnet, and you were cobalt, the was your body was being pulled automatically toward him. Just an inch. Enough to feel his body heat and the air coming from his nose bouncing off your skin when he exhaled.

“Please. You’re lucky I’m even dating you. I would never date a cop voluntarily.”

Sammy’s arm wrapped around your waist. His sweaty forearm stuck itself to your sweaty stomach as his fingers squeezed at your side, making you jump just slightly. Ticklish. He pulled you closer to him, his robust figure creating a fort around you. Your hand automatically went to his thick forearm, just resting there, your thumb stroking over the bump of his vein. His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes flickered between yours.

“So, let’s clear some things up. You’re saying that not only am I holding you hostage, but you’re also ashamed of me? And to top it all off, you were what– hoping for the best when you first slept with me?”

You turned on your side, your lower body now pressed flush against him, your legs tangling together. It put your neck into an uncomfortable position, having to crane it to maintain eye contact. Sammy’s hand had now slipped to your ass, mindlessly tapping his fingers against the flesh.

“Did you not catch the part where I said you were sweet?”

Sammy sucked in a breath, his fingers squeezing your butt as he leaned deeper into your space.

“You mean the part where you were trying to sweet-talk a cop?” he asked against your lips, grabbing you more tightly and rolling you back onto your back as he kissed you, his tongue sliding against the seam of your lips. You wrapped your arms around his back as his thigh slipped between your legs, pressing against your still wet cunt. A grunt got caught in Sammy’s throat as your fingers tangled in his dark curls, tugging slightly. Then he rolled on his back, flipping both of you over.

“I was a stoner before I dropped out of college, sweetheart. You get into lotta freaky shit when you’re stoned,” he said in some-what cocky tone when you pulled away, circling back to your earlier statement.

You were now straddling his hips with your hands resting on his chest. The light touch of the pads of his fingers to your knees sent tingles up your body as he unconsciously tickled the skin there, waiting for some kind of response. One of your roasts. Anything.

But you just locked your eyes with him, pursing your lips as you held back a smile. His eyebrows furrowed at first, but then your lips twitched, and it clicked. He rolled his eyes, before he grabbed your hip and forced you off him and back into the softness of your shared bed.

“Absolutely not.”

“Sammy,” you whined as he got up from the bed, grabbing some clean boxers from the dresser before heading into the adjoined bathroom.

“No!” he said incredulously. “I haven’t smoked in years! And while you evidently weren’t planning on dating a cop, I should remind that you are dating one.”

“And a good one at that! Caring. Smart.” He walked out of the bathroom, now clad in his boxers and with a washing cloth in his hand. “Loyal. Dreamy. With a heart of gold–“

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he interrupted, throwing the cloth onto your stomach. “Now you’re really trying to sweet-talk me.”

You rolled your eyes, taking the cloth and cleaning yourself up, while Sammy headed to the dresser again, opening the top drawer to pick a shirt.

“So, you said it just to make me jealous or…?”

Sammy threw a glance over his shoulder, giving you a knowing look before focusing back on the search for a decent shirt. Before he could find one, you shuffled toward him and wrapped your arms around his sturdy front, now clad in his shirt that he’d thrown on the floor earlier that morning, the hem pooling around your thighs. You peppered a few kisses over the freckles on his back before standing up on your tiptoes and kissing the specks just behind his ear where his hair curled.

“Have you ever smoked?” he then asked.

“Never.”

“You could get sick, you know. It can make you drowsy or– or anxious. It’s not always good.”

“I would have a competent police officer to look after me, wouldn’t I?”

Sammy closed the drawer and turned around with a shirt clutched in his hand. He looked defeated. You locked your hands behind his neck, hanging onto him as he watched you, the corner of his mouth quirked up. And yeah, you were his weakness. Sammy simply couldn’t resist the way you were looking at him, in his shirt no less. So lovingly. Like he was your whole world. He liked to pretend that he was.

Suddenly, you stretched yourself up on your tip-toes again, pressing your forehead against his, your noses brushing against each other.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” you said gently. “It was just an idea. Just thought it could be fun. But I don’t want you to feel obligated now. I get it. And I love your sober, righteous self the most, of course.”

You pulled away with a smile, teasing but genuine, and he couldn’t help but huff out a smile too, shaking his head at your antics.

“I love you too,” Sammy said, and your smile only widened before you kissed him. And what the hell, he had some time for another round.

Two weeks later, you came home to the smell of delicious Pad Thai. Sammy had learned how to cook the meal just for you, and you almost felt like you didn’t deserve him.

Passing the living room, your brows furrowed at the bowl of chips set on the coffee table, right next to the Pringles tube. There were also some unopened packs of gummies lying close to the edge of the table.

Sammy had probably found a new movie he wanted to watch, and this was his way of bribing you to watch it with him.

“I fucking love you, you know that?” you said as you entered the kitchen, skipping the hi's and how are you's.

Sammy looked over his shoulder, his dimple making an appearance as he smiled at you. He didn’t even stop stirring the noodles as he waited for you to reach his side and kiss him. Sliding your hand under his shirt, you stroked the skin of his back as you pulled away and leaned over the stove.

“It looks delicious.”

“Yeah, I just hope I didn’t add too much soy sauce. My hand kinda slipped.” He then twirled some noodles around the fork and brought it in front of your mouth. “Careful. It’s hot.”

You wrapped your fingers around his hand to keep the fork steady as you blew some air on the food. Then you opened your mouth and closed it around the fork, the flavor spilling all over your tongue, your tastebuds soaking it up. You couldn’t hold in the moan even if you wanted to, because it really tasted delicious.

“It’s perfect,” you said after you swallowed, feeding his ego in exchange. It made him smile, all proud and happy that he gets to treat you like you deserve. You kissed him again and then went to get the plates.

“I’ll just go change. Be right back,” you told him once you set the table and went to change into some comfy clothes. “Oh, and I picked up some Claritin for you. Noticed you were running out,” you said, loud enough for him to hear you as you put it in the med cabinet in the bathroom.

Once you were seated, you talked about work, he spilled some gossip about the Hollywood division and half-joked that he should probably visit an ophtamologist, because his sight was getting worse.

“Oh, you’ll definitely look hot in glasses.”

“Yeah, right. You look hot in glasses,” he remarked, stuffing mouthful of the noodles. “I don’t know about–“ he continued, barely intelligible as he spoke through the food.

“Sammy, please.”

He shut up immediately, nodding his head in understanding as he swallowed. “Sorry.”

You chatted some more before you went to load the dishes into the dishwasher and transferred the rest of the noodles from the skillet into a box. You left it open to let it get cold before you’d put it into the fridge.

“So, what’s with the set up in the living room? You find another ancient movie you don’t wanna watch alone?”

Sammy faced you, taking your hand and walking backwards to the living room.

“That is the reason you’re gonna fucking love me even more.”

Your brows knit together, confused. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he echoed, matter-of-factly. He held your gaze, his mouth growing into a small smirk. Waiting. Your eyes widened.

“No.”

His eyebrows raised.

“Are you joking?”

“Go take a look,” Sammy prompted you with a jerk of his head.

You hurried to the living room, looking around like a child on a Christmas morning.

“Getting warmer,” Sammy quipped when you reached the couch. You took another step between the table and the sofa. “Warmer.” You knelt on the couch with one knee, bracing yourself on the backrest. “Warmer.” Then you took the pillow in the corner of the couch and placed it aside, revealing a small, brown paper bag. “Burning.”

You snacthed it and flipped over, your butt sinking into the cushion after two swift bounces. Sammy came over too, sitting in the opposite corner of the couch and throwing his arm over the back, watching you as you clutched the bag in your lap, making it crinkle in your hold.

“Open it,” Sammy encouraged you and you did.

When you pulled out a roll along with a lighter, your mouth was already wide open in slight surprise.

“Sam, are you sure?”

“Are you?”

You stared at the two small items in your hands, contemplating.

“Hey, if you changed your mind, we don’t have to do this, alright? Say the word, it’s down the toilet.”

“No. I want to,” you quickly said, put both the lighter and the joint on the table, throwing yourself at Sammy and kissing his cheek. “I would love you even more if it were even possible.”

Sammy chuckled, grabbing you and creating some distance between you. “Alright, I have some conditions though.”

You relaxed, sitting on the heels of your feet.

“You need to tell me if you get too dizzy or anything, alright?” You nodded quietly, focused on the police-mode tone. “If and when I see or think you have had enough, I’m getting rid of the weed, okay? Right away.” You nodded again. “And also… I won’t be smoking.”

Your face scrunched up. “What?” You shuffled a little closer. “I thought that was the point of it all.”

Sammy tugged a stray hair behind your ear.

“Sweetheart, I don’t need to be stoned to fuck you good," he said, blunt as ever. He brought his face closer to yours, the smile had already fallen from his lips. “Or are you saying I’m not fucking you good enough? Hm?” His head cocked to the side as he followed your eyes, wide and innocent. “You sayin’ that you barely holding yourself up after I fuck you against the counter is not enough?”

You shook your head. You were speechless. He barely talked to you like that.

“See? I don’t think I’m the one who’s shy to fulfil their potential. You on the other hand… You could use some loosening up. And as much as it pains me that I couldn’t do it myself–”

Oh, God. You couldn’t let him think that you didn’t feel comfortable with him.

“It’s not like that–”

“No. You don’t get to speak on that now,” Sammy said sharply, but then his voice softened again, and he brought his hand to your cheek, his thumb stroking back and forth over your skin. “It’s alright. Good girls like you are always a little shy to let go at first. And I can’t even begin to imagine the pressure you feel, dating a man of the law and all. It must be so hard on you, hm?”

You nodded your head again. Sammy whispered a quiet yeah as he nodded along with you, brushing his thumb over your pouty lips.

“So, what do you say? You okay with all that I said?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

Sammy explained you the ropes as well as he could without actually smoking himself.

Woah, hold your horses, would ya? Just… start with small puffs, okay? Don’t rush it. Sammy told you when you put the joint between your lips and brought the lighter to the tip. You almost burned him when his hand shot up to cover your hand that was holding the lighter.

Sammy instructed you not to hold the smoke in for too long, but it wasn’t even physically possible. At one point, you wanted to give up when you still couldn’t get over all the coughing. Sammy even had to take the joint from you, so you didn’t drop it as your reflexes took over you.

After some time had passed, the world was spinning enough to make you giggle, but not enough to make you sick. Sammy made sure you had some snacks at arm’s reach all the time, feeding it to you so the high wasn’t so intense.

To be honest, Sammy had already been hard when you listened to his rules, all pouty and doe-eyed. He wanted to fuck you right then and there, to hell with some fucking weed. But he couldn’t help but be curious too. He was being selfish, not allowing you to see him high, but surprisingly craving to see you out of it.

You played a few rounds of strip UNO, and you kept insisting on taking off a piece of your own clothing even when he was the one who lost. Yeah, thank God you had never been high before. Sammy swore that he would have killed anyone who had seen you like this, clad only in your panties.

He was getting a little uncomfortable, his cock pulsing every time you giggled or rubbed against him.

And now, you were straddling his lap, grinding onto his bulge while you made out with him. Your panties had been soaked for a while now, and you were definitely creating a wet spot on Sammy’s shorts. Too bad you couldn’t see it, because they were too dark of a shade. His head was resting against the back of the couch, angling his head slightly to the ceiling. He was looking up at you when you pulled away from the kiss.

“You sure you don’t want to?” you asked, twirling a stray curl around your finger. Sammy snorted, because you asked him that after every kiss.

“Yeah, I’m sure. And I’m cutting you off too.”

“Whaaat? Nooo.”

“Yeees. You’ve had enough,” he told you with a smile, his teeth peeking out of his mouth. Your grin only grew wider, and you brought your thumb to his incisors, brushing over the uneven surface of one tooth overlapping the other one. “You have such nice teeth. Beautiful smile.”

He chuckled and shook his head, catching your wrist and pushing your hand down “Alright.”

“Wait. One more time. Please.”

It didn’t take him long to think about it when you were looking down at him with those puppy eyes. He allowed you one last hit. He watched you suck in the smoke, but what he wasn’t prepared for was you grabbing his chin and pulling his mouth agape as you leaned down and kissed him while letting some of the smoke escape your lungs.

He didn’t have to inhale it. He could just keep it on his tongue and exhale once you pulled away, sabotage your plan. But Jesus Christ, this was hot. You were hot. Fucking minx.

So, he sucked it in, letting the smoke expand his lungs. Once you both exhaled the rest of the smoke, Sammy locked lips with you, pushing his tongue into your mouth. You moaned against him, your fingers grasping his hair and nails scraping against his scalp. You rubbed yourself against his cock some more, and his arm wrapped around your back and pushed you against his front, making your tits rub against the material of his t-shirt. Your teeth were clashing against each other, saliva was collecting in the corners of your mouths, creating strings between you when you pulled away just to change the angle.

And then you had the audacity to giggle into the kiss. It was short-lived though, because you were silenced by the smack of Sammy’s hand against your ass. You gasped, the surge of warm air from your lips hitting his lips. He smirked then, that disgusting, cocky curl of his lips followed by his front teeth biting into his lower lip. But God, was it sexy. And he knew it.

“Such a bad fucking girl. Didn’t really take much to turn you into one, huh?”

You mewled at that, and when you didn’t answer, you felt another surge of pain in the same place, making your skin sting. Your hips jerked with the slap, a groan escaping Sammy’s throat from the stimulation against his clothed cock. For what it’s worth, he was trying to soothe the pain by stroking his palm against your burning skin, but it didn’t really do much. It just made the anticipation in you grow, your body just waiting for another spank.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you breathed out and his jaw clenched, his nose scrunched up into a sneer, and you almost thought he wanted to hit you again.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I was a bad girl.”

He strengthened his hold on you and leaned forward. It took you by surprise and you franticly tightened the hold around his neck, because you thought you were going to fall. Sammy would never drop you. That would be a crime which there is no punishment for. Unforgivable.

His other arm reached forward, taking the joint and putting it out before making you squeal when he stood up. Wrapping your legs around him, you giggled again when you realized he was holding you with only one arm. Your strong policeman, you swooned internally.

In the bedroom, he dropped you onto the mattress and then he disappeared into the bathroom. You squirmed on the bed, not able to stay still as you called out his name three times. Mind you, he was only gone for ten seconds, but it felt like two hours had passed. At one point, you heard the toilet being flushed and then he stormed back into the bedroom.

You shot him a dopey smile, and when he reached the foot of the bed, he wrapped his hand around your ankle, muttering a deep come here as he dragged you towards him across the sheets. They felt like clouds as they slid against your skin, and before you knew it, Sammy was pulling you into a sitting position and swiftly locking a handcuff around one of your wrists. It clicked in place, leaving the other cuff dangling down, bumping against your forearm and sending shivers through your body, not only because of how cold it felt.

Sammy crouched down, wrapping his arm around your waist. His knee brushed against your cunt as he bent it to kneel on the edge, crawling up the bed and taking you with him. Your head hit the pillow and soon, your arms were above your head. You tipped your head back, watching as Sammy’s hands looped the cuffs behind the metal bar of the headboard. He secured the cuff around your other wrist, making you completely trapped.

You zoned out, mesmerized by the shiny, fancy bracelets adorning your hands, but Sammy brought you back as he latched his lips to your still exposed neck. Your hands instinctively moved to grab on his hair, but were stopped by the chains, a clanking sound combined with your mewls resonated throughout the room. Sammy felt your neck vibrate from the sounds, and it made him scrape his teeth against the skin.

It didn’t take long before he was kissing down to your chest, sucking a few bruises into the skin of your boobs, before maneuvering his lips towards the side of your ribcage, that one specific spot that always made you squirm.

And as if on cue, your body jerked upwards. Sammy’s hands grabbed your hips and held you down, spending some time to torture you through that sweet spot, kissing, biting and licking, before he continued his descent. Over your hips, to your stomach, twirling his tongue around your belly button and kissing down toward the hem of your panties.

He hooked his index finger behind the hem, right at the center where the little bow decorated your underwear. Sammy tugged, just enough to expose the skin there and lay a kiss there too, but he went nowhere near your clit.

“Sammy,” you moaned, desperate for him to touch you where you wanted him the most. Instead, his mouth disappeared, and he let the elastic of your panties snap back into its respective place, stinging your skin for a millisecond.

Sammy shuffled down the bed just a little more to give himself a good look at your cunt. The sight almost made him roll his eyes into the back of his head, the wet spot outlining your engorged clit.

“Jesus Christ. You’re fucking soaked.”

He didn’t waste any more time. Leaning forward, he grabbed the undersides of your thighs and pushed upwards, giving himself a space to lick you over your panties. Your back arched at the sensation and Sammy followed your pussy lips as they tilted downwards, not taking his mouth off you even for a second.

“Sammy, please.”

You felt like you were sobering up, now drunk on the feeling of his mouth against you. But you wanted more, you wanted to feel the soft tongue lavishing around your clit. Sammy was nothing short of spectacular when it came to eating you out. He was like an artist, always focused to angle the strokes of his tongue just right, painting your pussy with his spit. However, he would always tell you, that you were the art.

He groaned, but didn’t comment, just hooked his fingers into your panties and tugged them off. In swift motion, he appeared above you and gripped your jaw, forcing your mouth open before he stuffed the wet material into your mouth. You tasted the tanginess as you bit down, your noises now muffled by the cloth. Sammy kissed your open mouth, but he was actually really just kissing your underwear, and then he was lying back on his stomach between your legs again.

His hips grinded into the mattress as he pushed your legs together and lifted them, essentially bending you in half. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your weepy cunt. His eyes fell shut at the delicious scent and then he finally dove in and licked through you, collecting your wetness on his tongue and slurping it up as he reached your clit. You were tight in this position, and it only added to the sensation. You twitched and he was gone again, pushing your thighs against your stomach and lifting your calves to give himself a good access and good lighting.

“Keep your legs up. Like this,” he said, his hot breath hitting your cunt as he talked. It was an order, and you tried your best to oblige. You really did. You even caught yourself from opening your legs when he blew some cool air on you before he attached his mouth to your cunt again.

But your legs had a mind of their own. And it was hard to keep them in this position with your hands tied and without his support. It took only few swipes of his tongue over your clit for them to start falling open, and as soon as Sammy felt it, his mouth disappeared. You squeezed your eyes shut, cries catching in your throat at the loss.

“Close them. Keep them up.”

So far, it was relatively easy to do so, but you’d be stupid to think that he’d make it simple for you. So, when you lifted your legs again, he got back to swirling his tongue around your hole, humming into you as he felt another surge of wetness coming out of you.

Sammy then moved to work on your clit again. He was building you up and when he gave a particularly hard suck, it made you moan through your underwear and your heels brushed against Sammy’s ears when they fell down.

“Up,” he instructed you again, his voice scarily calm, but still domineering. You just needed a little time to get over the mixed sensations. You hadn’t even cum yet, and you were already sensitive. “Lift ‘em up, come on.” Now his tone changed to condescending. He wouldn't put his mouth on you until you did as he said.

You hitched them higher again, presenting your pussy to the menace of your boyfriend, and this time when he leaned down, his fingers joined his tongue. Sammy slowly inserted two his fingers into your tight hole, pushing some of the wetness back where it came from only to pull out more and spread it over your clit. He rolled the bud between his index and forefinger before putting the flat of his tongue on you and moving his head in slow circles, sending delicious sensations through your body.

Sammy slid the fingers down to your opening again and locked his lips around your clit. You received several harsh sucks while he crooked his fingers inside of you, massaging your sweet spot as he nibbled on your bundle of nerves. He slowly picked up the pace and the knot in your stomach started tightening, your pussy squeezing around his digits.

You threw your head back, focusing on the orgasm he was about to bring you. Sammy fucked you with his fingers hard, making sure you heard how fucking wet you were, how easily you swallowed him. You didn’t even realize your legs spread in the air, providing him with full access, your pussy exposing herself to him in her full glory. But Sammy wouldn’t have that, muttering a quiet fuck before he pulled out his fingers just as you were tipping over the edge. His mouth was gone too, and before you could even realize what had happened, a hard smack landed on your pussy, causing you to squeal and your legs to close.

“See, it’s not that hard, is it?” he muttered, but the next thing you knew, Sammy was moving, kneeling up and positioning himself next to your hip, still facing your lower body to get a good hold on your knees and jerk them apart, keeping them spread in the air as he slapped your cunt again, right on your clit.

“Is this what you wanted?” Spank. “Huh? For me to smack the shit out of your little pussy?” Spank. “I mean,” he coughed out a condescending laugh, shaking his head, “if you’re not inviting me, I don’t know what you’re doing.” He landed one last spank and you trapped his hand against your sensitive cunt when you closed your legs. Not that he wanted to move anyway. The tip of his finger slipped into your hole as he faced you, leaning over you. His nose was now brushing yours, his free hand coming up to squeeze your cheeks together.

“You’re such a spoiled little girl.” He was heaving like a predator ready to eat its prey. “Trying to get me high so you can have the shit fucked out of you, huh?”

You shook your head, tears now rolling down the corners of your eyes and over your temples, landing on the soft pillow underneath you.

“Oh, no?” He forced his finger deeper into you and your legs fell open once again. “Don’t tell me you’re getting shy again.” He removed his fingers just to bring them in front of his face and spit on them. Returning them to your pussy, he started fucking you again, squelching sounds bouncing off the walls of your bedroom. “Do you hear yourself? Do you hear how wet you are?”

You were seeing stars again, ignoring the straining pain in your arms as you arched your back. Sammy’s fingers were slamming into you in ruthless pace, but then all of a sudden, his fingers were gone. Again. You wanted to scream, but you just settled for a long groan. The muffled noise amplified when your underwear was suddenly ripped from your mouth and replaced by the wet fingers that were just abusing your cunt. He pushed down on your tongue, nearly making you gag.

“What about now, hm? If I could, I would make you eat yourself out. I should feed every single drop to you, just so you finally realize how many buckets your sweet little cunt can fill.”

He massaged your tongue and you closed your lips around his digits, sucking on them, your eyes fluttering shut.

“So, I’ll ask again. Did you want me to ruin the absolute fuck out of your pussy?”

You looked up at him then. His pupils were wide, the ring around them green under this lighting. He was biting his lip too, something he never truly realized he did. And you nodded.

“Yes. I want you to ruin my pussy,” you replied, sounding as coherently as you could with the limited movement of your tongue.

He already did anyway.

“Atta girl.”

And with that, his fingers inserted themselves back into your cunt, and he fingered you until you made mess of them and the bed. Then he licked the cum off your pussy before he finally took off his clothes and fucked you into the mattress.

He barely looked at your face as he slammed into you. With his arms hooked behind your knees, he was too focused on his cock ramming into the tightness of your hole. You swallowed him too good to not look. And he would take a picture if you asked him. He might as well do it now, nothing you could do about it anyway, with your hands tied to the bed, stretching your figure into a magnificent arch. You were truly a sight to behold. Samuel Bryant’s Institute of Art. That’s where he would put you, where only he would have access to the art that was your body. Shit, he was doing it again.

Sammy grunted as you pulsed around him, letting the weight take him as he braced himself on his fists next your shoulders. However, he still kept his eyes glued to where he was sliding into you, his curls tickling your chin.

“Sam,” you moaned, getting his attention.

He couldn’t even mock you, because he was just as fucked out. Your pussy was making his brains dissolve. He kissed you, taking in a sharp breath and huffing it out. A thin string of spit formed between you when he pulled away and he began snapping his hips faster, chasing his orgasm and taking you right with him.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whined.

“Hold it for me, sweetheart. I’m right there with you.”

He lifted himself a bit to give himself more leverage, the pistoning of his hips against your ass creating slapping sounds that made your cheeks flush.

“Fuck. Cum for me,” he encouraged you, and with a few more snaps of his hips and give it to me, baby, you fell over the edge, milking his cock as he came too. “Fuuuck,” he growled, his moves slowing down to a complete halt. With a final, forceful press, he grinded against you, stimulating your clit one more time as he circled his hips for good measure, just to hear you whimper.

Sammy lowered himself on his forearms then, kissing your swollen lips as his cock softened inside of you. It made you instantly melt into him, the tips of his fingers gently playing with the strands of your hair.

Your hips shuddered as he pulled out, your mixed cum spilling on the bed. Sammy fell on his back, his chest rising once, twice as he caught his breath before he rolled onto his side with his back facing you. He reached down for the shorts he discarded on the floor earlier, stuffing his hand into the pocket and fishing out a key. Rolling to the opposite side, he tried his best to unlock the cuffs without having to get up, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration.

Once you were free, Sammy threw bot the cuffs and the key on the nightstand. You had to stifle the groan as you finally changed the position of your arms, the muscles in them pulling in different directions.

You shifted closer to Sammy, lying on your stomach as you rested your chin on your forearm which was now on top of Sammy’s chest. He looked down at you with hooded eyes, a small, proud smile adorning his face when he brought his hand to your head, stroking and playing with the hair there.

“How are you feelin’?”

“Heavenly,” you replied, making him chuckle.

“Was that freaky enough for you?”

You hummed, pretending to think about it. “I dunno. I have a feeling you still have some tricks up your sleeve.”

Sammy huffed, shaking his head. He didn’t deny it though, which made you smile to yourself. You kissed him then, hair falling around his face like a curtain, tickling his ears.

You smelled so good, too. He wasn’t sure if it was the weed, but with every touch of your lips, every brush of your hair, every molecule of your scent he inhaled, he felt like you two were merging into one. Like you possessed him, spreading through him like Venom.

And when you pulled away and smiled down at him, he was a goner. God, how he loved that smile.

“Marry me,” he blurted out and your smile faltered, your brows twitching without you realizing.

“What?”

He lifted himself up on his elbows then, forcing your body off his. You sat up on your knees and wrapped the cover around yourself, suddenly becoming shy again.

“I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to be yours.”

Hell, God knew Sammy already was yours. Just as you were his. But he wanted to wear that ring, to proudly and selfishly show that he had a fucking wife waiting for him at home. Ben was getting on his ass about it, too, always bugging him about “putting a ring on it”. Sammy always just rolled his eyes, shooting back with some off-hand comment about Ben’s he-whore ways of playing the field.

Not that Sammy wasn’t sure about you. He fell in love with you the second he recognized the brat in you that was perfectly matching his own. You kept him on his toes in the best way possible and it was because he loved you so much, that he didn’t want you to bolt if you weren’t ready. But this really felt right. And he had an inkling you felt the same way. He wouldn’t ask if he wasn’t sure.

“…Sammy, are you high?” He had inhaled that smoke you sent down his mouth.

“Probably, a little bit, yeah. But I was high when I sent my application to the Academy. And it was one of the best decisions in my life. This will top it, no doubt. If you say yes.”

You worried your lip, playing with the loose thread of the sheet and wrapping it mindlessly around your finger. The thread dug into your skin, probably cutting off the circulation to the tip.

Honestly, you wanted nothing more than to grow old with Sammy. But you just had an amazing sex after getting baked. You didn’t want to wake up the next day with Sammy taking it all back.

When you still didn’t say anything, Sammy got up, taking your hand in the process and pulling you to the end of the bed until your legs swung over the edge. He pulled his shorts on as he handed you his shirt, and you took it, throwing it over your head, confused.

Once you both were decent, he got on one knee right in front of you, taking your hands in his. His eyes shone with the sun coming down behind the windows and his lips were little chapped from all the kissing.

“I don’t got the ring. But I promise we will go pick one up first thing tomorrow. Or if you want it to be a surprise, I’ll go by myself. Whatever you want. And I promise to try to keep doing that. Getting you whatever you want, I mean. As your husband.” Fuck, he had no idea he’d suck at this so much. His fingers tightened around your hands. “And, I mean if you don’t want to marry me, I’ll do it as your boyfriend. I don’t care. But you are the best thing that’s happened to me and it would be an honor to be your husband… Please, say something.”

“Nothing would make me happier, Sammy,” you said, and his smile started growing. “But what if you change your mind? What if you wake up tomorrow, realize I basically drugged you and decide to break up with me instead?”

He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped from his throat, and he brought his hand to the back of your neck, squeezed and pulled you down to lock lips with you. He smooched you sporadically, lips smacking against each other before he pulled away, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You could kill a man, and I would still come visit you in prison and braid your hair.”

“If you really loved me, you’d pull a few strings and wouldn’t let me go to prison in the first place, actually.”

He formed an o with his lips, his eyebrows shooting up in amusement, but the shape of his lower eyeline still emphasized the invisible smile.

“Okay, smartass, if you ever commit a capital crime, I’ll make sure to cover your tracks. Do we have a deal?”

You cupped his face, your thumbs stroking the skin under his eyes back and forth.

“Yes.”

The plush of his cheeks shifted under your touch as he smiled at you, wrinkles forming from the corners of his eyes. They reminded you of small comets, shining like the North Star and burning into you the majority of the time.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, I will marry you.”

And with that, he tugged on your arm, pulling you into his lap and showering your face in kisses.

fin

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