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fluentmoviequoter · 9 months ago

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Tim Testing

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: After transferring to the Mid-Wilshire division because of toxic male officers harassing you, you find yourself partnered with Tim Bradford. When you are injured during a Tim Test, you hide the injury so he doesn't think less of you.

Warnings: angst to fluff, misogynistic comments and actions toward reader (from police officers), reader is injured and passes out, Tim is a softie

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

A/N: This was such an amazing request!! Tim (and everyone at Mid-Wilshire) would be so welcoming after dealing with something like this, so I really enjoyed writing this one. I hope you enjoy and please feel free to let me know what you think!🤍

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Picture from Pinterest

You knew from the beginning that it would be different for you, that being a female cop would have its pros, cons, and tough moments. What you didn’t expect was the men who were supposed to be your equals harassing you and making each moment far worse than it should have been.

Between the crass comments about how your uniform fit, questioning whether it was your time of the month whenever you tried to stand up for yourself, and their inability to trust you in the field, you learn your place quickly.

“I’d like to request a transfer to a different station,” you tell your commanding officer.

“Why?” he asks.

“Because there is no respect, no trust in this station. Looking over my shoulder while I’m trying to work, and having to defend myself against the very people who are supposed to have my back is exhausting and it makes me unable to do my job.”

He sighs, rolling his eyes as he slides a form to you. “Your decision. Though showing how weak you are by moving around every time things get hard, or your feelings get hurt isn’t plausible.”

“And you had to ask why,” you mutter, snatching the paper off his desk and walking out to fill it out in private.

“Hey, princess, before we leave on patrol I need to know you don’t have your gun at the front of your belt,” someone calls. “Don’t want to risk getting killed by your poor aim.”

You remain silent, which makes them quit or spurs them on to push you further. As if your day isn’t going poorly already, they take your silence as a weakness.

“Just her gun? You should be more worried about how her attitude changes if her bra rides up or her hormones spike,” a second voice adds.

“You’re on your own today,” you reply. “I’m on desk duty.”

“Finally, someone put you where you belong.”

The men laugh as they walk toward their shops, and you take a deep breath as the quiet settles over the station. Once your paperwork is complete, you take it to the captain. You can only hope it goes through quickly before you get fed up and quit forever.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your commanding officer yells your name as you walk in, intercepting you on your way to the locker room.

“Your transfer just came through, you’re expected at the Mid-Wilshire division for roll call first thing in the morning; today’s PTO while we complete the paperwork,” he informs.

You accept the paper he hands you and pretend not to hear as he adds, “I hope they know what they’re getting into and have the patience to deal with you.”

Smiling as you empty your locker, you hope things are looking up. Although, you know it will be hard to open up to new people and trust new cops, even if they are different than your previous team.

✯✯✯✯✯

Entering the Mid-Wilshire station, you cross your fingers that transferring was the right decision. Sergeant Wade Grey is your new commanding officer, and your day (and your future) relies on this meeting going well.

“Sergeant Grey?” you ask, knocking on his open door.

He looks up, smiling as he beckons you inside. Saying your name, he opens a folder and compliments your arrest record. “I was surprised to hear you asked for a transfer, it seemed like you were doing well at your previous station.”

“The environment was making it difficult to do as well as I know I can, sir,” you answer.

Grey nods. “I can understand that. Our people are good, though, so I expect you will fit in well and succeed in all you do here.”

“I appreciate that, sir.”

“And you can drop the ‘sir,’ we’re not as formal as some other stations.”

Blinking in surprise, you look away from Wade when another cop enters the small office.

“Sergeant Bradford, I’d like to introduce you to your new partner. I will warn both of you this is likely a temporary partnership, but one I trust will do you both some good.”

You smile at Bradford, who tilts his head to the side as he looks you over. It’s clear that he isn’t thrilled about having a partner, having grown used to working alone since becoming a sergeant. As long as he doesn’t treat you like a boot, or worse, like a girl who doesn’t have what it takes to be a cop, you can survive working with him for a few weeks.

What you don’t see, though, is that Tim can look at you and tell you’re a good cop. He reviewed your paperwork and arrest record with Wade yesterday, and he’s impressed by you. You’re good, but you have the potential to be better with the right help. And, for some reason, Wade is convinced that Tim can give you the push you need to be your best.

“Okay, let’s go,” Tim says, turning away as Wade tells you to have a good day.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim acknowledges that you’re not a rookie but warns you from the beginning that you still have something to prove.

“I know you’ve been a cop for a while, but I haven’t seen you in action. Your records are admirable, but I need to see proof that you’re still that good,” he explains. “So, I will test you and challenge you while we’re riding together, but don’t view it as starting over, more like proving grounds than qualifications.”

You nod, remembering something Wade muttered about “Tim Tests,” which you’re sure are unique to Bradford.

“I understand. I’ll do my best, and I want to learn to be better.”

Tim doesn’t reply, and you raise your guard, unimpressed with how shut off he is with you. In general, your past has made you wary around men; after Tim’s insistence that you have something to prove, you are determined to hide everything that could be taken as a sign of weakness. You will do whatever it takes to show you are a good cop, worthy of respect.

Slamming on the brakes, Tim yells, “We’re being ambushed; what do you do?”

“Radio for backup, stay in the shop, stay low, and fire only if necessary,” you answer, nearly robotically, as he catches you off guard.

Tim eases back onto the road, ignoring you once again.

✯✯✯✯✯

Just before your scheduled lunch break, something which you haven’t actually enjoyed in far too long, Tim parks between two old warehouses.

“There’s a suspicious package in the gray building, you’re riding alone and need to check it out,” he explains. “Radio any information as you find it.”

You switch your radio to a private channel with Tim, accepting the call as you exit the shop and enter the building. It’s dark and wet, but you refuse to accept any comments or disdainful looks from Tim if you fail this test, so you will find the package and impress him as quickly as possible.

“7-Adam-9, located suspicious package: brown paper bag situated between steel beams,” you radio.

“Dispatch, requesting additional information,” Tim replies.

You sigh, moving forward to look at the bag because you can’t touch it. When you move, the beams sitting upright in the warehouse shift. Stepping back a second too late, one side of the heavy structure hits the back of your shoulder, shoving you forward into the crate holding the package.

Pain radiates through your shoulder as you move to the side, pulling yourself away from the mess you made with a sharp inhale.

“7-Adam-9, false alarm. Suspicious package is empty. Code 4.”

“Copy 7-Adam-9.”

Taking a step toward the door, you hiss in pain as the pain moves from your shoulder around to your ribs, where you fell against the crate. It seems likely that you broke something or at least got a deep bruise, but telling Tim would be like admitting that you’re weak. So, as you level your expression and cover your pain by walking normally, you decide to hide your pain.

Being labeled weak or incapable, or as before, giving Tim a reason to view you as less than is not an option anymore. Buckling your seatbelt, you press your lips together to keep your pained sounds muted, and the feeling of the seat on your shoulder makes you count down the minutes until you can get out of the shop.

✯✯✯✯✯

As the day goes on, your pain grows in intensity. Each breath causes immeasurable pain, and your stomach turns when you move your shoulder in any direction.

“Wade’s going to ask me, so how’s your first day going?” Tim asks, turning down a residential street to respond to a noise disturbance.

“Fine,” you answer quickly, clenching your jaw to stay quiet.

“Good,” he replies, though his voice sounds different. “Glad you found a station that works for you.”

You can’t tell if his comment is passive-aggressive, implying that you are the issue rather than the station you transferred from. The overbearing pain you’re feeling makes it nearly impossible to care.

“You take point on this one,” Tim offers as he parks by the curb.

“Yes, sir.”

Asking questions and explaining the city’s noise ordinances to the tenant, you’re momentarily distracted from your pain. The moment you turn to return to the shop, though, you’re reminded that your new position isn’t quite as enjoyable as you were expecting.

“Take us back to the station,” Tim says, tossing the shop keys to you.

When you raise your hand to catch the keys, your shoulder screams in protest, and you close your eyes momentarily to hide the pain.

“You alright?” Tim asks.

Nodding, you release a sigh when Tim climbs into the passenger seat, too easily convinced by your answer.

✯✯✯✯✯

After a quick meeting with Wade, discussing your new role, and signing a few documents, you head for the locker room. When you pull your shirt off, you glance in the mirror, surprised to see the size and color of the bruise; your entire shoulder, over to your neck and down around the front of your ribs, is a sickening purple. The yellowish tint around the edges is a sign that it will only worsen before it begins to heal. Attempting to raise your arm again, you feel something shift under your skin and step into one of the bathroom stalls, kneeling as you try to keep yourself from being sick. When you lean your head against the metal wall, the coolness is soothing, and as you finally let yourself acknowledge the pain, it becomes all you can feel.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim opens Wade’s door, furrowing his brows when he sees you’re not there.

“She left a few minutes ago,” Wade answers.

“Her car’s still here.”

“Must be in the locker room then.”

“Why’d she transfer?” Tim asks, stepping inside to close the door.

“I don’t know, Bradford. You’re going to have to ask her.”

Tim nods, turning away to search for you. He knocks on the locker room door, and when no one answers, he opens it and says your name. Once again met with silence, he steps inside and looks around. Your locker is open, but you’re nowhere to be seen. As he rounds the last row of lockers, he sees someone sitting on the floor in one of the bathroom stalls.

Tim says your name, knocking on the door. It opens at his touch, and he catches it before it hits your arm. Kneeling beside you, he looks across your face, pressing his hand behind your neck as he tries to find the source of your unconsciousness. His hand dips to your upper shoulder, and you groan, opening your eyes.

Tim ignores you as you wake, gently leaning you forward as he surveys the bruise where it’s visible past your tank top.

“Stay awake,” he says, moving you again. “Just your shoulder?”

You nod, and he demands to know: “Home or hospital?”

“Home,” you whisper. “But I can-“

“Obviously you can’t,” Tim snaps, his arms gentler than his voice as he lifts you from the ground.

✯✯✯✯✯

You stay conscious, fighting against the pain as you give Tim directions to your home. After getting you inside and as comfortable as possible, he leaves your side to gather a few things before returning. He gives you a glass of water and a few pain reliever pills, waiting until you’ve taken them to lay an ice pack across your shoulder. You take a deep breath at the cold before catching yourself.

“What else hurts?” Tim asks.

“My ribs,” you admit.

He leans you back gently, pushing your tank top to your sternum as he surveys the darkening bruise across your lower ribcage. Gently moving his hand across your skin, he doesn’t feel anything obviously broken, apologizing as you whimper at the pressure. Pulling the first aid kit he brought from your kitchen to his side, he places several cooling packets over your ribs.

Satisfied that he’s done all he can do for you, Tim moves to sit across from you, making himself comfortable in your living room.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“I’m not leaving,” he answers quickly, “what if you collapse again?”

“I’ll be fine.”

Tim silences, closing his eyes as he leans back. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You’ve heard that question dozens of times, but previously, it was asked in a much different tone. Always an accusation that you hadn’t handled something correctly or that you should have let someone else do whatever it was that needed to be done.

When you look back at Tim, his eyes are on you, and you shrug. His eyes narrow as his gaze intensifies, demanding your answer.

“The last station that I worked at made me nervous to tell people things, especially other cops. All of the guys that I worked with harassed me constantly, and they tried to convince me that I wasn’t a good cop because I was a woman. So, I have trouble trusting other police officers with personal things. During your Tim Tests, I thought that if I acknowledged something had happened, you’d see me the same way.”

“Which way?”

“Weak, incapable,” you answer, trailing off.

“They were bad people,” Tim explains. “They may have been okay cops, but no one deserves to be treated like that.”

You nod, licking your lips as your gaze drops to the blanket across your lap.

“Want to tell me what happened today?” he pries.

“The steel beams around the bag?” Tim nods, so you continue, “They fell. One of them hit my shoulder and knocked me forward.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You couldn’t have known that would happen. Besides, you helped me. My last partner would have found a way to blame be.”

“Like I said, bad people. But you… you’re a good person and a good cop,” Tim continues. “I’ve known that since you walked in, but I needed to know that you knew. Getting hurt or being unable to do something on the first try doesn’t make you less of a person, or a cop. Being a woman doesn’t either. And if they didn’t see that, it’s their loss.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, looking into his eyes.

“And my gain.”

You furrow your brows at Tim, but he leans back and closes his eyes instead of elaborating.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #requests #fem!reader #the rookie

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coqvttes · 1 year ago

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୨୧― leon k. can’t keep my hands to myself

୨୧˚ synopsis: even if it means he turns up to the station late, rookie leon just can’t leave for work without satisfying his needy girl can he..?

୨୧˚ warnings: nsfw 16+ only, p in v, finger-sucking, petnames, some aftercare, nipple-play, fem!reader, sub!reader, dom!leon, marking, creampie, softie leon, lmk if i forgot anything!

୨୧˚ wc: 1.8k

leon had only just started his job, and yet almost every day, he is late to work. always turning up at the station in a rush, hair in an absolute state, uniform messy. and who’s to blame? you. his needy girlfriend, who just can’t get enough of him.

and today he was definitely going to be late. as the sun, shining through the curtains, illuminating leon as he got ready to go to the station, he woke up late this morning. he really tried to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake you from you sleep, wanting you to get some rest. but his shuffling stirred you awake either way, and you didn’t really mind, you enjoyed watching him get ready. but you were enjoying yourself a bit too much. seeing him walk around the apartment shirtless was entertaining, but it also got you wet. he hadn’t noticed you were awake and he was just about to grab his keys but there you were, yawning as you sat up on the bed, pouting at him.

“leonn, don’t go just yet,” you plead. upon hearing your voice calling out to him, he turns around, lets out a low chuckle at your cute face, and walks over to where you sit on the edge of the bed before he cups your cheek, thumb caressing you tenderly. you nuzzle into his hand, and he smiles at your antics.

“baby, you know i don’t want to, but i’ll be late for work again. i got in trouble last time, you know?” he reasons as he raises a brow. but you know he’s not actually mad, and he shows you by leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead as if to make up for having to go to work.

“pleeease, don’t wan’ you to go yet,” you whine as he stands back up. you grab his hand and tug him towards you.

“i’ll be-” you interrupt him as you bring his hand to your mouth and kiss his palm. you start peppering kisses over his fingers before taking one in your mouth, sucking it gently as you gaze up at him. leon’s breath hitches as he takes in the sight, his pants straining while he tries to maintain his composure. he feels really bad. the last thing he wants to do is leave you on your own and go to work; he'd rather stay in with you. you let go of his finger with a pop, shuffling further into the bed as you lean back against the soft pillows. giving him that look that he just can’t deny.

“the bed is colder without you to keep me warm, leon..” he stood still, unsure of what to do, but felt himself harden slightly at your words. surely he could spare a few minutes to satisfy his girl, because he can’t turn up to work with a hard on, could he?

he climbs onto the bed in front of you. he slides his right hand slowly up your thigh to the waistband of your sleep shorts. he smirks as he dips his fingers into your shorts when he feels the wetness over your clothed cunt.

“so wet for me, aren’t ya?” he groans, and you buck up into his hand when he rubs your clit over the cotton of your panties. he smiles at your reaction.

“you’re so beautiful, you know,” he whispers.

“take it off, leon,” you beg, your eyes gazing into his ocean blue ones. your lips parted slightly because of how much you wanted to kiss him right now.

“say please, baby,” he teases when he notices your impatience. he pulls on your panties slightly before letting it snap back gently against your cunt and you whine.

“please leon. wan’ you to stop teasing me,” you cry. he smiles before slipping off your shorts and panties. he pushes himself up a bit to kiss you passionately, and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him in a little closer. you kiss him back fervently while his rough hands sneak up under your cute top, and he groans softly into your mouth when he feels your nipples harden under his gentle touch. he teases your sensitive nipples, pinching, twisting, and toying with them until you can’t help but mewl into his mouth.

“p-please,” you beg pathetically, arching your back and pushing your chest up into his hands. you wriggle your lower body closer to him, pressing against his clothed dick.

“you’re such a good girl, aren’t ya, always asking so nicely,” he coos before he pushes your top over your tits and leans down to kiss the valley between your breasts. he envelopes your nipple in his hot mouth and coats it in his saliva, kissing it tenderly. he smiles when you let out a soft moan. he sits back up on his knees and pulls his shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor before unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans. he pulls them down along with his briefs, just under his cock.

you can't help but let out a moan when he finally pulls his dick out, oozing out pre-cum. gosh he wants you just as much as you want him so badly. you reach out your small hand to pump him a few times. he groans softly before replacing your hand with his, sliding it up and down, then guiding himself towards your leaking entrance. he grabs both of your legs and wraps them around his waist. you lock them tightly around him, keeping him as close to you as possible.

“my good girl,” he whispers when his tip presses against your wet slit before sliding in slowly. you moan out and reach for him desperately. he leans down closer and kisses you lovingly. you're moaning as he pushes his length in deeper until he finally bottoms out. the stretch always hurts a bit. you hold your breath unknowingly as you try to relax around him. he notices you tense up and comforts you.

“just breathe, baby,” he whispers comfortingly as his thumb rests on your bottom lip, parting it slightly. he stays like that for a few seconds, kissing and sucking your neck to let you adjust to his size, before you manage to ask him to move. he smiles before he pulls out and pushes in slowly. you gasp at the sudden pleasure, and your hands fly up to grasp onto his broad shoulders tightly as he continues to fuck you in a perfect rhythm. he holds eye contact with you for a few moments before you dip your head into his neck, kissing and marking him up, causing him to moan loudly. you smile at his reaction. you always adore how you can make a strong man like leon crumble for you. you look at the dark mark appearing on his neck, satisfied. but you're snapped out of your trance when a particular thrust hits your sweet spot and you whimper. your warm cunt squeezes around him so perfectly, and he lets a moan slip out, his pace speeding up slightly.

the pleasure continues to build up, and the pain begins to fade away completely. your eyes are shut as you get lost in the ecstasy, giving leon full control to make you feel good. “f-faster!” you whine, and he obliges as always, quickening his pace, thrusting in and out of you, grunting in pleasure. he loves it when you get needy for him like this. knowing that only he can get you all worked up and desperate. he pushes in and out of you, and it just feels so good that he simply can’t hold back his low whimpers and moans. but you love it so much. love the sounds you can pull from him in these intimate moments, and it’s just the same for him too. he loves the little noises you make. those whimpers and little gasps. he could get off on them alone. (oh he has before...)

leon pounds into your cunt, whispering dirty words in your ear that he knows you love, and you look him right in the eyes. your fingers tug and tangle in his blonde hair. he can tell you’re close by how high-pitched your moans are, and his fingers move down to your sensitive clit, rubbing it gently in circular motions. you mewl softly as the pleasure begins to get overwhelming and your fingers slide up to your chest toy with your nipples, adding more stimulation, and you begin to feel your orgasm approaching. he nearly cums at the sight of you making yourself feel good like that, but he does his best to hold back, wanting you to finish first as always.

you feel the pleasure taking over you, and with a moan of his name, your climax washes over you, your legs closing around him tight, pulling him flush against your chest, and he leans down to kiss you hard. your arms drape over his neck. his orgasm approaches, and he lets out a loud, broken moan. his thrusts are losing rhythm as you feel his warm cum fill you up. he smiles down at you and presses his lips against yours softly.

you’re practically panting as he sits back up, kissing your knees before he’s pulling out of you slowly, and you whine at the loss of his warmth. he smiles at that before he gets up to retrieve a cloth from the bathroom before coming back to wipe you down. he always takes such good care of you; even when he's late for work, he never fails to make sure you're okay. sliding your panties back on and patting your cunt gently, he notices your pout.

“come on, princess, let me see that smile,” he says. you don't give in and continue to pout at him. in an attempt to make you smile, he starts to tickle your side, and you squirm in the bed, giggling wildly and smacking his hands away. he grins triumphantly. he chuckles, “i gotta get to work now." he gets off the bed and grabs his shirt that he tossed to the floor earlier and slips it back on over his head, pulling it down and covering up his toned abs that you desperately yearn to get a glimpse of again. he picks up his car keys from the bedside table that's beside you and leans down to press a quick kiss on your forehead.

"i promise i will take care of you tonight, angel," he says as he turns to face you from the door. you smile as you take in his messy yet handsome appearance just as he was leaving, his hair disheveled, his flyer unzipped, and a dark hickey blooming on his neck that he had yet to notice. oh dear, he was definitely getting into trouble at the station today...

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ all works belong to © coqvettes 2023. i do not give permission to claim, translate or copy any of my works. reblogs are appreciated !

#leon kennedy smut #leon smut #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #leon x reader #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy x reader #resident evil smut #re2 #re4 #resident evil #leon kennedy resident evil #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon fluff #leon s kennedy imagine

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twistersobsessed · 3 months ago

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hi love! i love your writing so so much! especially your scott works. i’ve literally been obsessed with him since the movie came out

i was wondering if you could maybe write something like scott and reader are in an relationship and she’s super sensitive while he’s super mean.

one day he’s just in a bad mood (idk maybe he couldn’t get good enough data on a storm) and he’s kinda taking it out on her and it ends up really hurting her feelings so he has to make it up her

<333

Bad Moods & Sensitivity | Scott x Reader

A/N: Ahh thank you bestie! I’m so obsessed with Scott too 😭

Scott was in an absolutely foul mood. You had no idea why. When you came up to him at breakfast and wrapped your arms around him, he’d shrugged you off. It hurt your feelings but you decided to respect him and give him some space. Scott’s bad mood was affecting your mood though, it killed you that you couldn’t love on your boyfriend.

Storm Par was stopped at a gas station, and of course, Tyler Owens and his crew were stopped at the same one. Scott and Javi were talking by the truck, and since Scott wasn’t paying you any attention, you made your way towards the gas station’s convenience store.

“(Name)!” You turned to see who was calling you to find Tyler, standing by his truck with Boone, waving you over. You smiled and made your way to them. “Hey guys.” You’d always been friendly to Tyler and his people but you didn’t often get called over to talk to them. “What’s up?”

“You look sad,” Tyler frowned. “Everything okay with you and Clipboard?”

Clipboard. Tyler’s name for Scott. Your face fell.

“Aw, I take that as a no?” Boone chimed in.

You shook your head. “It’s nothing really, he’s just in a really bad mood today. Shrugged me off this morning and hasn’t talked to me since.”

Boone gave Scott a dirty look while Tyler hummed. “You’re too pretty to deal with that attitude,” Tyler said.

You shrugged. “He’s not usually like this.”

“Really?” Boone raised an eyebrow.

You understood why they didn’t like Scott, but you also weren’t going to stand there and listen to them talk badly about your boyfriend. “I’m uh, gonna go get a snack. See you guys out there!” You politely excused yourself. They bid you goodbye and you entered the store, oblivious to the angry set of eyes on you.

Inside, you bought yourself an energy drink, and you bought Scott a pack of his favorite gum, hoping to cheer him up a little bit. You paid and left, striding towards Scott and Javi. Javi smiled brightly at you, but Scott didn’t even look at you.

“Babe, I got you your gum,” you said softly, holding out the pack. Scott turned to you and you were taken aback by the anger in his eyes. “Go give it to the hillbillies,�� he spat. Your face crumpled. “What?”

“Since you like flirting with the competition so much.” Scott’s voice dripped with venom.

“Scott…”

“Shut up, (Name), I’m having a shitty ass day already and then you go and get all friendly with Owens and his little sidekick, I don’t want to hear it.”

Tears begin to pour down your cheeks. You hadn’t even felt them well up. Scott’s face softened. Javi pulled you into a hug, glaring at Scott. “That was so unnecessary,” he told him as he held you. “I think you should walk away for a bit.”

Scott bit his tongue and did as Javi said. Javi soothed you until you calmed down. You threw the gum in the trash.

For the rest of the day, you clung to Javi’s side and avoided Scott. That night, you made sure Javi booked you your own motel room; you didn’t feel like sharing with Scott. You sat alone on the bed, knees tucked up against your chest. It was quiet and lonely without Scott but you’d be damned if you sought him out.

A knock shook you out of your stupor. You sniffed, and slid off the bed, creeping over to the door and looking through the peephole. “Go away, Scott,” you said irritably when you saw who it was. “Baby,” his voice was pleading. “Please. I’m so fucking sorry. Let me in.”

You sighed, but opened the door a crack to make eye contact with him.

Scott’s heart hurt when he saw how tired and sad you looked. He wanted nothing more than to throw open the door and take you into his arms, but he respected your space.

“What do you want?” Your voice was flat.

“Can I come in?”

You considered it for a moment before nodding slightly and opening the door all the way to allow Scott inside. You stepped away from Scott as he stepped towards you. He shut the door behind him, then to your surprise, dropped to his knees.

“My behavior today, and what I said… unacceptable. I am so, so sorry. It doesn’t matter that I was in a mood or that I was jealous, it’s not an excuse. It never should have happened. I’m sorry I brushed you off at breakfast, I’m sorry I ignored you all day, and I’m really fucking sorry for what I said at the gas station. You know I don’t like how Tyler looks at you.”

You swallowed, considering his apology. “I don’t know, Scott,” you sighed.

He suddenly looked fearful. “Do you want to break up?”

The question hung heavy in the air. If you had more respect for yourself, maybe you’d have left him for how he treated you today. But a deeper, more sensitive part of you, couldn’t bear to throw away an entire year together for one really bad day.

“No,” you finally responded, and Scott’s shoulders sagged in relief. “But… I don’t know. You really fucking hurt me, that was really fucking unfair.”

Scott reached out towards you and you reluctantly took his hands. He pulled you into him. Even kneeling, he was so tall that his head was level with your chest. He looked up at you with reverence in his bright blue eyes, his hands caressing your waist.

“I love you so much, (Name). I will never let a bad mood be an excuse to treat you like that ever again.”

He paused. “And I’ll eat you out as soon as you can stand to look at my face again.”

Scott gave phenomenal head.

You blushed. It made you giggle a little and Scott smiled hopefully. You looked at him for a minute before smiling back. “Okay.”

Scott’s face lit up. He stood from his knees and picked you up instead, your legs wrapping around his hips. Scott pressed his lips to yours gently but eagerly. “I promise I’ll make it up to you,” he murmured against your mouth.

“You better.”

#scott twisters #twisters #scott miller #scott x reader #storm par #oneshot #oneshots #jeb twisters #addy twisters #praveen twisters #dexter twisters #dani twisters #lily twisters #boone twisters #kate twisters #tyler owens #kate carter #tyler twisters

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skrrts · 4 months ago

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the bus at 11:17PM (oneshot)

✧ gn!reader x yunho ✧ genre: non-idol, slice of life, crush on a stranger ✧ word count: 1,6k

every thursday, you wait with a handsome stranger for the bus at 11:17 pm. today, you intend to finally approach him.

a/n: how to write drabbles? this was meant to be short but oh well. thank you yuyu for all those pictures

As you stepped outside of the building, your gaze went up to the night sky, and you admired how the rain clouds had vanished, the moon shining boldly, fighting the fake lights of the city.

“I guess I won’t need that one,” you said, dropping the small umbrella into your bag and stretching a little.

Taking a long language class every Thursday after work was still challenging, your lazy nature asking why you couldn’t just go home early instead of trying to learn a language you had been interested in for years.

All your attempts to teach yourself with YouTube videos had failed horribly.

“Y/N, are you sure you do not want a ride home? I really do not mind taking a detour, it’s late.”

Yeosang’s pretty face appeared next to you, leading you to look back at him.

You shook your head, smiling: “No, it’s okay. I like taking the last bus; it’s nice to ride without all the crowds I deal with every morning. And besides, I really do not live too far away, it’s just ten stops, and I will be right at my apartment complex.”

There was a small hint of worry. The two of you sat next to each other in language class, and he had been a great help, far more advanced than you were after years of failed self-study.

“Alright, get home safely. I’ll see you next week,” he bowed and waved before turning around to follow the other students to the parking lot.

You were a little surprised to learn you were the only one who did not have a car. It just didn’t feel convenient in the middle of a large city, not to mention the costs tied to it — money you’d rather invest in something you enjoyed.

Then, there was another reason. As you walked to the nearby bus station, you could feel your heartbeat increase and held your breath in anticipation as you stepped around the corner.

It was on the day of your first language class that you saw him for the first time, waiting for the same bus as you. The tall and handsome stranger looked up and flashed you a sweet smile before focusing back on his phone that day. You felt silly and shy for glancing at him the entire time, even when you reached your station and had to go.

Then, you told yourself it was fine — who didn’t do that with a stranger? But to your delight, he was there every Thursday, waiting in silence not too far from you.

His presence was comforting. The street was quiet and empty, but with him there, you felt safe. It sounded strange, considering you didn’t know anything about this man. Maybe it was his tall frame or the way he was so relaxed, giving you a feeling of security.

He was always dressed casually but still elegant, and you wondered if he worked somewhere around here, spending hours imagining what kind of job he held.

Your language class was about to end in three weeks, and you knew you were likely running out of time. If you intended to learn at least his name, you finally needed to find the bravery to approach him.

Your heart skipped a beat as you could see him standing there once again! He was looking good today too. White and black suited him so well, but this was the first time you saw him wearing glasses. Did he need them? Was it a choice of style?

Your bus always left at 11:17 PM; you had about fifteen minutes to change your life!

Fine, you just tried to hype yourself up to finally find the courage to do something.

Unlike all those other Thursdays, you decided not to sit down but instead stood quite close to him, looking casually at your watch like you actually just wanted to check the time.

While you used a backpack because it was simply more convenient, you carried one of your language books around today, hoping it would make you look just a little more interesting.

All those scenes from your favorite romance series flashed into your mind, where the protagonist just stood cutely at the station and the romantic interest would approach them just like that.

It would be ideal, but there it was again — your imagination running wild, just like when you thought how nice it would be to learn another language but didn’t manage without the help of a teacher.

You gave him a quick glance, but for some reason, the stranger was more engaged with his phone than usual.

He didn’t even give you that sweet and quick smile you had gotten used to because he always greeted you like that when you joined him, waiting for the bus in silence.

Did he ever think about that stranger who only showed up here on Thursdays? Was he maybe quietly asking himself what you were doing here so close to midnight?

Maybe it was better not to know; you would just be disappointed.

As you were lost in thought, you did not realize how your time was already up — not until the bus arrived, a little faster than usual. When it braked, the rain puddles splashed at you, covering not only your book but also your clothes.

The soft noise of surprise was followed by a hiss, and you stared at your outfit.

You intended to approach him today, so you had put more effort into your appearance, wearing some of your favorites pieces, which were now covered in dirty rainwater.

For a moment, you fought back tears, now embarrassed by how you had imagined your life turning into a silly romance movie when you should be more mature than that.

What made you think this would work?

“Are you okay?”

The voice next to you was foreign, but when you turned around, you saw the stranger looking at you with worry. The bus driver hissed to get in if you didn’t want to stay.

Your crush gave the old man a small glare before he quickly smiled at you, indicating for you to get in. After a moment, you blinked but hurried inside. The doors shut, and the bus station was slowly disappearing.

The stranger was standing beside you, pulling out a package of handkerchiefs from his bag.

“Here, it probably won’t help much with the clothes but the book.”

You stared at it, blushing.

“Oh, yes! Thank you!”

You accepted it with a slight bow and tried to clean off your book, you felt his gaze still on you. As you looked up, he offered a soft smile.

Realizing you did not answer his question yet, you said, “I am okay. It was my fault… I should not have stood so close to the street.”

But he was quick to shake his head.

“No, he drove too fast; it wasn’t your fault. He should be more mindful. Here, let’s sit.”

Your cheeks were red, and you weren’t sure if the heat was from being shy or embarrassed, but your body just acted, and the two of you settled on two of the seats.

“I have seen you a few times; I guess you visit the language school nearby? Ah, I am Yunho, nice to meet you. I believe you get out at Parkroad Station?”

You were surprised to learn that he did pay attention, not only to what kind of book you carried or that he did notice you after all, but also which station was your destination.

“Oh yes, I am almost done though; there are just two more lectures and it will wrap up. I was thinking about taking the next level entry though!”

Your words were rushed, and he chuckled.

“Learning a new language is good fun! I’d encourage it if you are enjoying yourself.”

He really was sweet, trying his best to cheer you up although you were strangers. Finally, you offered him your name and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

This wasn’t how you had imagined approaching him, but now you were just glad the two of you finally talked.

“I … noticed you too, but I admit, I was too nervous to say hi. It was nice; I felt safer waiting for the bus so late, knowing I’d not be alone,” you mumbled softly.

Yunho seemed surprised before smiling back.

“Same here. We always have a team meeting on Thursdays, but I am the only one without a car… it’s nice to know I am not alone taking the bus.”

“Oh, I feel that! Everyone at my language class takes a car except for me.”

The two of you laughed, but you realized your station was coming up soon.

Yunho looked at you before opening his bag again and pulling out his business card. You weren’t surprised to see he was head of his department — he really seemed to be kind and smart.

“It’s late, and you should get home, dry up, but maybe … we could meet for a coffee? You could tell me more about your lessons and how you like the school. I was thinking about studying a new language myself.”

You carefully put it between the pages of the book.

“I will make sure to text you my number once I am home… and I’d love that. I’m off on weekends, whenever you are available.”

“Same here. I will call you tomorrow?”

The two of you looked at each other with a smile before your station was announced, and you pushed yourself up.

“I am looking forward to it,” you bowed, and this time, you were quite sure to see how his ears were just a little red.

As you stepped outside of the bus and turned around, Yunho had moved over to a window seat; he was waving to you until you were no longer in sight.

“Wait… is that a date?!”

#yunho x reader #yunho x you #yunho oneshot #yunho fic #yunho scenarios #yunho imagines #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #yunho fluff #ateez au #reis writes #yh tag #fluff tag

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connieisthesun · 3 months ago

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Chemistry and Cadavers - Conrad fisher x reader

Chapter Summary - You, a bright-eyed sophomore college student majoring in biology stumble upon Conrad fisher, an attractive yet forgetful student who happens to forget his pen on his first day of class...

Warnings - Fluff, teasing, super cute tbh haha

*Authors note* - So I've decided to start a new series due to the nonexistent amount of new tsitp fic's here lmao, if you enjoy a like a repost would be appreciated. Let me know if you have any feedback to improve my writing. Enjoy loves!

Chapter 1: Chemistry and Cadavers

The crisp autumn air on the college campus was invigorating, bringing with it the promise of a new academic year filled with possibilities. The campus was alive with the sounds of students hurrying to their classes, the rustling of leaves in the trees, and the distant hum of chatter from the quad. Among the new faces and returning students was Y/N, a bright and ambitious sophomore majoring in biology.

Y/N had always been passionate about the sciences, and this year, she was especially excited about her anatomy and physiology class. Little did she know that her enthusiasm for the subject would lead to a series of events that would change her college experience in ways she hadn’t anticipated.

As she walked into the lecture hall, she noticed the familiar faces of her classmates and scanned the room for an available seat. She spotted a spot in the middle of the room and made her way over, settling into her chair just as the professor walked in.

“Good morning, everyone,” the professor greeted, his voice carrying a tone of authority and excitement. “Today, we’re diving into the intricacies of human anatomy, and I have a feeling this semester is going to be an exciting journey.”

Y/N smiled to herself, her excitement bubbling over as the professor began the lecture. She took out her notebook, ready to absorb every detail of the day’s lesson. As the lecture progressed, she couldn’t help but notice the student sitting a few rows ahead of her, who seemed to be struggling with his notes and the lecture material. He had tousled brown hair, a laid-back demeanor, and an occasional frustrated glance at his notes.

When the lecture ended, Y/N gathered her things and headed out of the lecture hall, intending to grab a coffee before her next class. As she walked through the bustling hallway, she was approached by a friendly voice.

“Hey, Y/N, wait up!”

She turned to see her friend Lila catching up with her. “Hey, Lila! What’s up?”

“I heard you were in the anatomy lecture this morning. How was it?” Lila asked, a teasing smile on her face.

“It was great,” Y/N replied. “I’m really looking forward to this semester. Anatomy is such a fascinating subject.”

Lila’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You know, I think you might have a classmate who’s also taking that course. He’s known for being a bit of a mess, especially when it comes to anatomy. His name is Conrad Fisher.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Conrad Fisher? I think I saw him in class today. He seemed to be having a hard time keeping up.”

Lila laughed. “That’s the one. He’s actually a really nice guy, but he’s notorious for needing a little extra help with his studies. If you see him around, you might want to keep an eye out. He’s always borrowing pens or asking for assistance.”

Y/N chuckled. “Noted. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Later that week, Y/N found herself in the anatomy lab for the first time. The lab was a place of intense focus and concentration, with rows of cadaver tables and an array of dissection tools neatly arranged. The room was filled with the quiet murmur of students working together, and the scent of formaldehyde lingered in the air.

Y/N set up her station and began to review the lab manual when she heard a voice nearby.

“Hey, do you have a spare pen?” the voice asked.

Y/N looked up to see Conrad Fisher standing beside her table, his expression a mix of embarrassment and frustration. He held up a pen cap, indicating that he had lost the actual pen.

“Sure, here you go,” Y/N said, handing him a pen with a smile.

“Thanks,” Conrad said, taking the pen and looking visibly relieved. “I seem to have misplaced mine again. I swear, it’s like they disappear into thin air.”

Y/N laughed softly. “It happens. You’ll get used to the lab environment eventually.”

Conrad smiled gratefully. “I hope so. I’m Conrad, by the way. I think we’re going to be lab partners for this course.”

“Y/N,” she said, extending her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

As they worked side by side, Y/N found that Conrad’s easygoing nature and good humor made the long hours in the lab more enjoyable. They talked about their classes, shared stories, and found themselves falling into a comfortable rhythm of collaboration. Despite the occasional moments of distraction and light-hearted teasing, they made a great team.

Over the next few weeks, their interactions continued to be marked by playful banter and occasional flirtation. Conrad would often ask Y/N for help with his dissections, and she would gladly oblige, offering guidance and tips with a teasing edge.

One day, as they were working on a particularly challenging dissection, Conrad looked up from his work with a grin. “So, Y/N, do you have any other hidden talents besides being a dissecting wizard?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. “Well, I can bake a mean batch of cookies, if that counts.”

Conrad’s eyes lit up with interest. “Cookies? Now you’re speaking my language. Maybe I’ll have to take you up on that offer sometime.”

“Only if you promise not to lose any more pens,” Y/N replied playfully.

Conrad laughed, shaking his head. “Deal. I’ll do my best to keep track of my writing instruments from now on.”

Their banter became a regular feature of their interactions, and the chemistry between them was evident to everyone around them. Despite their undeniable connection, they both maintained a façade of casual friendship, much to the amusement of their friends.

One afternoon, after a particularly grueling lab session, Conrad and Y/N found themselves sitting on a bench outside the science building, taking a well-deserved break.

“I think that was the most challenging dissection we’ve had yet,” Conrad said, stretching his arms. “I’m glad we made it through.”

Y/N nodded in agreement, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “I have to say, your technique is improving. You’re almost as good as me now.”

Conrad raised an eyebrow. “Almost? I’ll take that as a compliment.”

As they chatted, a group of their friends approached, and one of them, Sarah, gave them a knowing smile. “You two seem to be getting along quite well.”

Y/N and Conrad exchanged a glance, both of them trying to suppress their smiles. “We’re just lab partners,” Y/N said casually.

“Sure, just lab partners,” Sarah said with a teasing grin. “But everyone can see the chemistry between you two.”

Conrad blushed slightly, and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. “We’re just friends, honestly.”

Sarah and the others laughed and continued on their way, leaving Y/N and Conrad to their conversation.

“You know,” Conrad said, his tone playful, “it’s funny how everyone is always trying to push us together.”

Y/N shrugged, trying to hide her own smile. “It’s probably just because we spend so much time together. It’s hard not to notice the dynamic.”

Conrad’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Well, if they’re right, maybe we should just embrace the idea.”

Y/N gave him a playful nudge. “Oh, really? And what would that look like?”

Conrad leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a mock-serious tone. “It would probably involve a lot more teasing, a few more flirtatious comments, and maybe even some impromptu study dates.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Sounds like a lot of work. I think we’re doing just fine as friends.”

“Agreed,” Conrad said, his smile warm and genuine. “But it’s fun to think about.”

As the weeks passed, Y/N and Conrad’s playful flirtation continued, with their friends often teasing them about their obvious chemistry. Despite their mutual attraction and the flirtatious banter, they remained steadfast in their commitment to being just friends.

Their interactions were filled with laughter and light-hearted teasing, creating a dynamic that was both enjoyable and endearing. Whether it was borrowing pens, helping with dissections, or sharing jokes, their connection grew stronger with each passing day.

As the semester progressed, Y/N and Conrad found themselves increasingly drawn to each other, their friendship evolving into something deeper and more meaningful. Despite their best efforts to deny their feelings, the chemistry between them was undeniable, and their playful banter only served to highlight the growing connection they shared.

Tag list - @conradfisherswifesstuff @cheezbot @grxnde-dwt @itsshayfr @lanivoid @calpurnia2002

Comment or heart to be added.

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hinatastinygiant · 11 months ago

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Brewing Affections

ONESHOT: Brewing Affections ~ Sebastian Sallow x Fem!Reader

GENRE: Fluff, Smut, Angst

Masterlist

"Hurry up, Garreth, we're going to be late!" you groan as you look behind you while your brother struggles to take out his wand from his robe.

"Relax sis, we still have a whole five minutes," he retorts.

You sigh. "It's not a short walk to the potions room, you know," you reply, rolling your eyes as you turn back around. "You always make us late."

"Do not!" he retorts.

"Oh really? Last week, we were almost 10 minutes late to charms, and the week before, we were 15 minutes late, and the week before—"

"Okay okay, I get it!" he grumbles. "We'll make it, though. Besides, who's going to care?"

You sigh. He doesn't understand the importance of being punctual. You, on the other hand, are a stickler for being on time. It's the one thing you don't need to be smart to do at this school.

Finally, after a seven-minute walk, you arrive only slightly late to Professor Sharp's potions class. The two of you stand by your cauldrons with the other 7th year Gryffindors who tell you that Sharp is still writing something down on his desk, and hasn't begun. Unfortunately for you, this causes Garreth to stick out his tongue at you and say, "I told you so!"

You scoff, "Whatever."

The two of you get ready for the lesson, pulling out your vials, measuring spoons, and ingredients. But when Professor Sharp is finally ready to start class, he clears his throat and begins to explain that today's class will be slightly different. "Today," he says with a bit of a proud grin on his face, "I will be pairing you up with different partners. Good practice for some of you who can't seem to get along with the other houses in here."

"I swear to god if he pairs me up with that wannabe pretty boy Sallow," Garreth begins to complain to Leander on the opposite side of where you sit, "I'll fucking quit this class."

You roll your eyes. Garreth has always had a rivalry with Sebastian. It's not really a rivalry, but more so that the two are complete opposites of each other. You don't usually pay it much mind. They're both on rival quidditch teams, and have different opinions on nearly everything so it's pretty normal. However, the fact that they're both so competitive makes their arguments much worse.

"Now, please listen carefully, for I will not be repeating myself," Professor Sharp continues, "When I call your names, you will go sit across from your partner. Understood?"

There are a couple of quiet mumbles of "Yes Sir," before Professor Sharp continues.

"Mr. Cromwell, with Ms. Jones."

"Lucky Cromwell," Garreth nods to Leander.

"Ms. Huxley, with Mr. Prewett," Sharp continues. "Hm, then I'll have Ms. Weasley with Mr. Sallow."

Garreth's head immediately turns to yours and he mouths, "Better you than me."

You, however, just shake your head and shrug your shoulders. It's not a big deal to you, even though the two of you can't get along, you'll at least be able to get the job done.

You watch as Sebastian slowly makes his way across the classroom to your station. You're not sure why he's moving so slowly, but you think it might be his ego weighing him down.

"Better keep your hands to yourself, Sallow," Garreth whispers to him with narrowing eyes. "Touch my sister and you're dead."

"I think you better tell her that," Sebastian smirks as he leans against the table, "She's the one who couldn't keep her hands off of me yesterday."

Your eyes widen. What the fuck is he talking about?

"What the hell are you talking about?" Garreth's voice is rising. "You lying—"

"Hey hey," Leander holds his arm out in front of him, "Don't get yourself in trouble with Sharp."

Sebastian is smiling to himself as the four of you watch Professor Sharp call the rest of the class to their new stations. Once Garreth is gone, you're left to deal with Sebastian on your own. It's then that Professor Sharp gives directions, explaining that he will be giving each table their own, unknown potion and are expected to brew it before leaving the room. "Teamwork," he tells the class. "Will be imperative to completing this potion I promise you've never attempted to brew before. And, I have a feeling it will take some time," Professor Sharp shakes his head.

You try not to ignore how close Sebastian is getting to you as Sharp passes out instructions on a small piece of paper. Once you receive yours, you read it aloud to Sebastian.

"You know those directions are never accurate," he sighs once you finish, picking up way too much Serpentine Shadowroot than needed.

"Are you serious? I don't think Sharp would give us a mystery potion with incorrect directions," you shake your head as you snatch the shadow root from his hand.

"Yes, I am serious. You must not be familiar with Sharp's techniques then. Remind me, are you new here? Do you need me to teach you, Y/N," Sebastian grins, leaning in close.

You roll your eyes. "Don't pretend like you know him better than anyone else. You're always trying to prove yourself to everyone."

"And what's wrong with that?" Sebastian asks.

"You're so annoying," you shake your head as you measure out just the right amount of shadow root.

"You really want us to fail, don't you? Are you trying to spend extra time with me, Weasley?" he then asks you, his smirk only widening on his face.

"Merlin's Beard, you just can't help yourself, can you? I'm pretty sure I've made it fairly obvious I'm not interested in you flirting with me right now, Sallow," you grumble.

"Oh? Not right now?" he repeats. "So does that mean I've got a shot later?"

"Shut up, Sallow. Just read the damn directions again," you shake your head.

"Why? So you can be a goody two shoes and do all the work? That's what all your friends see, don't they?" he begins to provoke you.

"No," you shake your head. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I don't?" Sebastian laughs. "I think I know you and your friends a lot better than you think."

"You don't know me," you roll your eyes.

"You're right. But I'm willing to learn," Sebastian smirks.

You don't even bother replying, you just roll your eyes and reach past him to get the next ingredient. "No, that's not next!" he suddenly shouts, causing you to pull back your arm so quickly that you bump your elbow against your cauldron and spill the contents onto the floor. You glare at Sebastian as the rest of the class stares in your direction.

"You ass, what the hell was that?!" you exclaim, reaching over and grabbing his shirt collar.

"I didn't mean—" he starts to defend himself.

Just then, Professor Sharp approaches and clears his throat. You let go of Sebastian and place your hands on your sides. "Apologies, Professor, but-"

"Save it, Weasley," he shakes his head. "I suppose the whole family really is the same. I thought you were different. To the Headmaster's office. Both of you!"

***

"Back again, Sallow?" Headmaster Black shakes his head when he sees the two of you begrudgingly enter his office. "You really need to stop getting yourself sent here."

"What? But I don't always come," Sebastian insists. "Scribner lets me go almost every time!"

"Oh does she now?" Black nods his head as though he had no previous knowledge of this. "Well, she must have been feeling particularly nice then."

You can't help but chuckle quietly to yourself as Sebastian gets reprimanded. You've only ever talked to Headmaster Black a few times over the past few years, and it was only really because of what happened to your parents in Hogsmeade two years back.

"I understand the situation with your sister, Anne, and wanting to help find a cure for her seemingly unmanageable illness, but this is not the way of doing things," Black continues.

"Yes, Sir," Sebastian sighs.

Your smile fades as Sebastian hangs his head down low. You didn't realize just how poorly his sister was doing, and judging by his reaction, you can only assume the worst.

"Now," Headmaster Black begins to address the both of you, "What was the incident today in potions?"

"She—" Sebastian immediately begins, before you cut him off.

"I bumped my elbow against the cauldron and knocked it over, causing Sebastian to get in trouble for my mistake," you explain.

"No, no, no," Sebastian insists. "That's not what-"

"But that is the truth," you insist, looking at the Headmaster, "I'll gladly accept whatever punishment you deem appropriate."

"Very well," he sighs. "20 points from Gryffindor. Now, leave. I have no need for further discussion with the two of you."

"Yes, Sir," the both of you respond in unison.

As you walk out, Sebastian leads the way, not bothering to turn back or wait for you as he heads toward the Slytherin dorms. "Sebastian!" you call out hopelessly, but it isn't until you run in front of him and hold out your hand against his chest that he stops.

"What?" he snaps.

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry. I didn't know that's why you were acting the way you were," you sigh. "I didn't realize that-"

"Piss off," he replies coldly, shoving his shoulder against yours as he continues walking.

"Please," you insist, following after him, "Listen to me, will you? I'm trying to apologize, you jerk!"

"Why?" he asks, stopping in his tracks. "Why are you apologizing?"

"Because," you reply, "I didn't realize. I didn't know that was the case. But I know what it's like to lose someone I love."

"Anne isn't dead, idiot," he grumbles before walking away. You decide not to chase after him again.

***

"Hey, Y/N," Garreth taps your shoulder. You and the rest of your Gryffindor friends are sitting in the Great Hall for dinner, but all you can think about is the events earlier in the day. "You're going to the game tomorrow, right?"

"Huh?" you look at your brother and nod. "Yeah, yeah, of course."

"Who are you rooting for?" Leander asks.

You look at Garreth who passes you a smirk, though he doesn't let anyone else see it. He then makes a kissy face, mocking the way you know Leander feels about you.

"Gryffindor," you laugh, hitting your brother in the chest. "I'm a Gryffindor, why would I cheer for Slytherin?"

"Oh, yeah, well, I know that. I just thought maybe there was a certain Gryffindor you were interested in, is all," Leander blushes, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the table.

"I don't think there is," you answer coldly before going back to your trance. You can somewhat hear the laughter that erupts from the rest of the table at Leander's expense, but you don't pay it much care.

"Oh, that reminds me," Garreth then calls to you, "what happened in the headmaster's office with Sallow? He didn't throw you under the bus, did he?"

"No," you shake your head as you glance past him at the Slytherin table on the opposite side. "But I did cost us 20 points."

"Fucking serious?" Garreth grumbles as he turns his head to face the rest of the Slytherin table.

"What is it, Garreth?" you ask, still looking over as well.

"They're all just fucking pricks," he growls.

Sebastian isn't hard to spot at the table. He's rather tall and has a commanding presence, and that's not even counting his enviously soft hair and strong jawline. He sits, unbothered, as he talks to his friend Ominis Gaunt. When Garreth turns back around, you keep your gaze fixated on the handsome Slytherin. You didn't realize it at first, but the way he treats everyone is almost like a defense mechanism. It's like he tries to gain everyone's love because he's afraid he won't get enough somewhere else.

When the two of you catch eyes, he doesn't smile, but instead, his eyes widen. It's like he's surprised, or maybe he's nervous. Maybe he's embarrassed about what happened in the hallways, or the potions classroom. Either way, you avert your eyes before anything can happen.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" Garreth then asks you softly. "Nothing happened to you, right?"

"No," you reply, your voice in a whisper. "I'm fine. I think I just need some air."

You quickly excuse yourself from the table and head outside. It's a bit colder than usual tonight, but the weather is still quite pleasant. The moon is bright, and there are some clouds scattered across the sky. You decide to walk around the school grounds for some time until you finally arrive back at the courtyard.

It's empty, you note. It must be past curfew already. You're not quite sure how time passed so quickly, but it did. However, before you can head inside, you spot someone sitting on the edge of the fountain. It's Sebastian.

Seeing him makes you hesitate. You don't know what to say, really. You wish you could apologize for being weird earlier in the day, but the last time you tried, it didn't go over so well. Instead, you approach him quietly.

As you get closer, you notice that his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are red. He looks sad, almost. Is he crying?

"Are you alright?" you ask him.

"What?" he responds, quickly wiping his eyes as he looks up at you. "Y/N, what're you doing here?"

"Uh, I'm not really sure," you respond softly. "Mind if I sit?"

Sebastian nods and scoots over slightly, allowing you to join him.

"Is everything okay?" you ask, your eyes glancing towards his.

"Yeah," he nods. "Why?"

"I just wanted to make sure," you answer as you reach into your cloak and pull out a small handkerchief. You then gently hold it out to him and allow him to take it from you.

"Thank you," he says, reaching out his hand.

The two of you sit in silence for a while, not really saying much of anything. "Is there anything I can do?" you finally ask him.

"Not unless you know of a cure for Anne," he scoffs.

"Sorry," you shake your head. "But I do know what it's like to see someone you love be in pain. Two years ago my parents were in Hogsmeade when a large troll appeared and caused some trouble. They were caught in the crossfire. There was nothing I could do."

"I'm sorry," Sebastian frowns.

"It's alright," you shake your head. "The point of telling you that wasn't to have you pity me or anything. It was just to show that I know what it's like. You've got someone to worry about, but you should take comfort knowing that she's still here."

"Do you miss them?" Sebastian asks, looking at you.

"Every day," you nod.

"I know I would, too," he sighs. "If Anne were to-"

"We don't have to talk about that," you shake your head.

"Sorry," he sighs.

"No, it's okay. But it's getting late, we should head back inside," you sigh.

"Y/N," Sebastian suddenly reaches out and grabs your wrist. "Thank you. For sitting with me. And listening."

"No problem."

***

The next afternoon you walk down to the common room where the rest of your Gryffindor friends are dressed in their house's colors. Everyone is chanting about how the quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin is the most important game of the season and that they need to beat Slytherin. Once everyone is ready, you head out and make your way to the quidditch pitch.

When the game is about to start, the crowd is abuzz. They're excited for the game to begin. It's the only time the entire school can be unified and on the same team. But before the game begins, Leander Prewett, dressed in his Quidditch uniform, approaches you with a pale face.

"Leader?" you begin, but before you can ask him why he's not getting ready for the game, he bends over to his left and vomits up whatever he had for lunch.

"Shit," you grimace. "Are you okay? Do you need some help?"

"No, I'll be fine," he shakes his head.

"You don't look fine," Cressida, one of the other 7th year girls, remarks.

"Cress, not now," Leander grumbles. "Y/N, please take my broom to Garreth. He said he's been wanting to use it so figured I'd give it to him since I can't play."

"Yeah, sure, but, uh, you really didn't need to walk all the way out here to give my stupid brother your broom. He's got his own," you sigh.

"Well, maybe I also partially wanted to see you," he smiles.

You chuckle softly. "I'll get this to Garreth. You go back to your room and rest."

As Leander nods, you walk to the side of the pitch toward the Gryffindor locker room. However, finding yourself preoccupied with thoughts of the night before, you enter the locker room and come face-to-chest with a tall, muscular Slytherin. Shit, you mutter to yourself, you've walked into the wrong room.

As you take a step back from the situation that you'd quite honestly love to be a part of in any other situation, you realize that the bare chest belongs to none other than Sebastian Sallow who's only dressed from the waist down. Finding yourself embarrassed, you look up and away from him before apologizing.

"Ah, hey there, Y/N," he calls out to you, grin ever present on his face. "Don't worry, it's not the first time a girl's seen me shirtless. You can look."

You roll your eyes. "Not interested."

"Are you sure about that?" he questions, his tone playful. "Oh, that reminds me, I wanted to let you know how grateful I am for what you said to me last night. You definitely did cheer me up and now I'm ready to kick some Gryffindor ass."

After he speaks, the rest of the men in the locker room erupt in an uproarous cheer. A few of them whistle as they crowd Sebastian, but you can still manage to spot the wink he sends your way before getting enveloped by his excited teammates. You roll your eyes as you walk out. Maybe you shouldn't have taken the fall for him in Black's office yesterday.

***

After returning from your delivery to Garreth, you walk up to the stands where the rest of your friends have saved you a seat.

"What's up, Cress?" you ask, taking your seat beside your friend who is folding her arms over her chest.

"Imelda," she grumbles, "is such a narcissistic bitch."

"What'd she do this time?" you sigh.

"She's the reason why Leander can't play!" Cressida exclaims.

"No way, are you serious?" you question.

"Yes! She gave him some weird potion so he'd get sick and not be able to play. We saw her on the way up to the stands laughing as she drank some kind of pink concoction. When I called her out, she just laughed and walked away," Cressida shakes her head. "It's fucking despicable."

"Oh wow," you reply. But before you can say anything more, the whole crowd shouts in an uproarous cheer. The game is beginning.

As the players fly around, hyping up the crowd before they play, Sebastian's broom stops just in front of where your group of friends happen to be standing. "I swear," you grumble, "this guy is fucking everywhere lately."

Cressida chuckles and nudges you in the shoulder before her breath suddenly hitches. Sebastian, his broom still stopped in front of the section where you are, blows a pink-lipped kiss towards you.

"Oh, Merlin's Beard," she gasps, grabbing your arm and holding it tightly. "He's flirting with you."

"Piss off," you mumble, trying to hide your embarrassment, "He's just an ass."

"He's so fucking cool," Leander shakes his head. You look at him in confusion as he gazes at Sebastian like a lovesick puppy.

"Why are you still here?" you ask with a nudge to his side. "Go home, Prewett!"

Finally, the lanky Gryffindor takes your advice and returns to his dorm room to rest. You're thankful. At least you can finally enjoy the game without worrying about him.

The crowd begins to cheer again when the game starts. Both teams fly around and try their best to score as many points as they can. But about halfway into the game, lightning strikes and the balls begin to act up.

"Think they're going to stop it?" Eric Northcott asks the group.

"No way, they can't stop it now!" Hector Jenkins adds.

"But if they don't, someone could get really hurt," Cressida adds.

That's true, you think to yourself. You're worried about Garreth, especially because he's not even on his typical broom.

Soon, your worry only intensifies as one of the Bludgers begin to act erratically. The crowd turns to panic as it rushes past the fifth row.

"Fuck," you breathe out. "It's headed right towards where Sebastian is!"

"Come on, Y/N, let's get out of here!" Cressida calls out to you.

"I'll be right there!" you reply, watching as they rush off before jumping down to the pitch. In all of the pandemonium, Sebastian gets knocked off his broom and nobody else seems to notice. "Sebastian!" you shout, running as fast as you can to his side. When you finally reach him, his body is bruised and bleeding from the fall. "Hey, Sebastian," you call to him, kneeling beside his body. "You need to get up."

"No," he groans, "I can't. Fuck, get the hell out of here, Weasley. It isn't safe."

"Hold on," you tell him, fumbling around in your clothes for your wand. Then, without another word, you Floo both you and Sebastian out of there. For some reason, the place your brain takes you to is the Room of Requirement.

When the two of you arrive, the room shifts into a sort of medical room. You immediately stand up and rush around for whatever bandages you can find. Sebastian manages to make his way over to a cot where he lets out a deep sigh.

"What the fuck was that?" he grumbles.

"I'm not sure," you reply.

"And why the fuck did you take me with you?" he continues.

"You were hurt and needed help," you retort, pulling out a vial of wiggenweld and some bandages.

"So what? Why did you help me? What happened to hating me?" he questions.

"I don't hate you," you answer. "You're just an ass sometimes."

"Oh yeah?"

"Don't make me regret saving your ass," you shake your head as you lift up his head and place a pillow beneath it. "Now drink."

"Are you serious?" he asks.

"Yeah, what's wrong with that?"

"There are a million things wrong with that," he answers.

"Well, you're not really in the best position to be telling me what to do," you scoff as you place the vial in his hand. Sebastian begrudgingly drinks it as you dab the blood off his head with a damp towel. "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"You're so frustrating," he sighs, relaxing against the pillow as you accept the empty bottle back from him.

"Better to be frustrating than an asshole who leaves you bleeding out in the pitch," you smile to yourself. "Now get up, I'm bringing you to Nurse Blainey."

"No!" he quickly insists.

"No?" you look at him.

"Please," he shakes his head, reaching out and taking hold of your arm.

"Why not?"

"She's going to have a fit about it, and I don't want her yelling at me again," he replies. "I've been there too many times this semester. I don't want the lecture. Especially not with you there. Black will certainly have my head."

"Well what do you want me to do then?" you roll your eyes as you fold your arms over your chest.

"I dunno," he shrugs, hissing in pain when he accidentally moves his shoulder, "but maybe we could just stay here."

"Seriously? You're really going to be a baby and make me stay with you here all night? There's no way," you shake your head.

"Why not? Is it 'cause of before? I meant what I said, Y/N, it's not the first time a girl's seen me with my shirt off," he smirks as he attempts to sit up on his own.

You groan to yourself as you sit beside him on the bed. The two of you talk for a while, mostly about your siblings. You don't argue at all, just talk like genuine friends for the first time. Eventually, you begin to feel tired. It's only natural, considering the events of the day.

"Do you want me to walk you back to your room?" he asks softly, slightly waking you up from your half-slumber.

"Hmm?" you grumble, looking over at him.

"Do you want me to walk you back?" he asks again, a small smile growing on his face.

"Mhmm," you nod, "yeah, but, um, could we maybe wait one more minute?"

Sebastian chuckles as he stands up and grabs you by your hand. You feel suddenly a bit more awake as he pulls you to your feet and allows you to stand so close to him this time without saying anything to ruin the moment. "Come on, let's find the way out of here."

The two of you look, you really do, but neither of you can find the exit. "Are you sure there was a door?" Sebastian asks.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure. I mean, it's supposed to take you wherever you need it," you shrug. "Maybe there was no door because we don't need it. We just need to sleep."

"Does that mean the room is telling us we should sleep together?" Sebastian raises an eyebrow.

"That's not what I said," you grumble.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry," he chuckles. "But, um, are you okay with staying here?"

"I guess so," you sigh. "There aren't any other options, right? But there's only one cot."

"Don't look at me like that," he shakes his head. "I'm not going to make you sleep on the floor. I'm a gentleman."

"Sure you are," you roll your eyes.

"Oh, come on, Weasley, I thought we were over all that animosity," he shakes his head as he takes a step toward you. "And don't worry, that threat from your brother is clearly engraved in my brain. I won't touch you. Promise."

"I wasn't worried about that," you shake your head.

"Oh, really?" he chuckles. "Good. Then we should probably get some sleep."

With a sigh, you turn away from him and reach down to the hem of your shirt. Before you pull it up, you stop and look over your shoulder.

"What is it?" he asks.

"Stop watching," you insist.

"Oh, right," he laughs, shaking his head as he turns the opposite way to presumably do the same. You quickly take the opportunity to strip down and put on the shirt the room offers to you. It's a long shirt, which is fine. But the problem is that the shirt has no shorts to match. You take what you can get, though, and turn back to face Sebastian.

Your face heats up at the sight, and you hate yourself for it. Sebastian has nothing but boxers on, and he's already lying face-up on the cold floor.

"I won't look," he says, gazing up at the ceiling. "You can join me if you'd like."

"I'm good," you scoff, sitting on the edge of the bed and crossing your arms.

"Okay," he nods, his voice soft.

"Sebastian," you begin.

"Yeah?" he replies.

"Thanks," you whisper.

"What was that?" he asks, a hint of teasing in his tone.

"Don't make me repeat myself, Sallow," you shake your head.

"Alright," he responds. "I'm going to sleep. You should, too."

You don't respond, just lay down on the cot and shut your eyes. However, despite how hard you try, you can't fall asleep.

After what feels like an eternity, Sebastian speaks up. "Y/N, are you still up?"

"Uh huh," you answer, your eyes still closed.

"Can't sleep?"

"Not really," you shrug, opening your eyes and looking at him.

"What's on your mind?" he asks.

"I'm not sure," you tell him.

"Want me to keep talking to you until you fall asleep?"

"That might be a good idea, Sallow. You could bore me to sleep," you scoff.

"Oh, really?" he chuckles.

"No," you shake your head. "Talking to you is actually... kinda nice."

"Wow," he laughs, "you know, I didn't think we'd ever get along."

"Me neither," you answer honestly. "But it's not as bad as I thought, I guess."

"Yeah," he agrees. "I like being friends with you, Y/N. And if you need to talk, I'm here for you. And I won't tell anyone. I promise."

"Okay," you nod.

"And, hey, thank you again for saving me out there. That could've been really bad," he sighs.

"I didn't want anything to happen to you, Sallow," you answer softer this time.

After that, silence befalls the two of you again, but in your mind, the silence is so overwhelmingly loud.

You're not sure what it is, but something inside you forces you to grip tightly onto your blanket and sit up from the cot. You take a few steps and kneel down beside where Sebastian is trying to sleep. He looks over at you, puzzled, but waits to hear what you have to say before making any remarks.

You feel so stupid in your mind, but without a single word, you bend down and press a soft kiss against his lips. After the fact, you quickly pull back, your face hot as the fire whisky you drank the last time Gryffindor won a match.

"Weasley, what was-"

"Sebastian," you interject, "do you like me?"

"I don't know," he replies honestly. "You make me feel so many things."

"Do you want to find out?" you ask quietly.

Sebastian answers by grabbing your hips and pulling you onto his lap. His hands slowly run up and down your body before finally settling on your thighs. When he kisses you, it's hungry and desperate, like he's been holding it back all this time.

"Shit," he hisses as you bite his lip, pulling his hair. "You're a fucking tease, Weasley."

"Shut up, Sallow, and touch me," you grumble, kissing his neck before he has a chance to respond.

"Merlin, you're fucking incredible," he breathes out as his fingers slip underneath the hem of your shirt. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"I wouldn't be on your lap otherwise," you reply, leaning back a little so he can lift the shirt over your head.

"Fuck, look at you," he growls. "So fucking beautiful."

His hands trail up to cup your breasts, allowing the weight of them to fill his palms. His thumb traces around your nipple, and your head falls back as you let out a soft moan.

"Sebastian," you whisper, gripping his shoulder. "Don't stop, please."

He leans forward and begins kissing down your chest, his lips trailing between your breasts before reaching the space between them. He licks a line from the top to the bottom before gently sucking your skin, earning a small whimper from you.

"Sebastian, please," you beg, pushing your hips down against his. You can feel his hard cock against you, and it drives you wild.

"What's the matter? Impatient?" he smirks.

"You're an asshole," you reply, moving your hand down his warm torso and allowing your fingers to linger above the band of his boxers.

"Yeah, well," he replies, his hands resting on your hips as he pushes his erection up against you. "I just can't help that."

You smirk and kiss his lips once more before leaning back and allowing him to hover above you. "Do whatever you want to me, Sebastian," you whisper against his ear. "I'm yours."

"Fucking hell, Y/N," he curses before his hands grab your sides, pulling your hips against his. He grinds his hips into you, and the friction drives you mad.

"More," you moan, your fingers digging into his shoulders. "I need more, please."

"You're such a good girl," he breathes out. As he whispers words of praise in your ears, you look up at the ceiling and notice your reflection in the glass. Your eyes widen and a shiver runs down your spine.

"Sebastian," you gasp, your fingers curling tighter into his hair.

"What is it?" he asks, his hands still on your hips.

"The ceiling," you mumble, turning your head. "It's reflecting everything."

"I know," he chuckles.

You playfully shove him back as you realize that he must've been watching you this whole time, despite saying he wouldn't.

"That's fucking embarrassing," you scoff as he pulls himself closer to you again.

"Sorry," he chuckles. "I couldn't help myself. I did try my best to keep my eyes off, but I couldn't. You're just too gorgeous.

"I like hearing you say that," you admit quietly.

"I'm glad," he replies. "Now, come here."

You lean forward, expecting another kiss, but instead, he rolls you over. You now lay on your stomach, and he kneels behind you. "Do you have any idea how many times I've fantasized about seeing you like this?"

"Really?" you ask, looking over your shoulder at him while his hands slowly caress your ass.

"Absolutely," he nods. "You drive me wild."

As your face heats up, you bury it into the blanket beneath you.

"Don't be embarrassed," he tells you, leaning forward and grabbing a fistful of your hair. "I want to hear everything. No holding back."

"Okay," you breathe out.

Sebastian's hand trails down your spine and stops right above your ass. "Tell me, have you ever done this before?"

"Y-yeah," you reply.

"Who was it?" he asks.

"Doesn't matter," you shake your head.

"Hmm," he hums before bringing his hand down to slap your ass. "That's not what I asked."

"Sebastian-"

"I'll only ask once more, Y/N. Who was it?"

"Eric," you mumble.

"Interesting," he remarks. "So, is that why he always makes sure to sit near you?"

"No," you answer.

"Did he touch you like this?" he then asks, his fingers slipping beneath your panties, between your folds, and gently circling your clit.

"Ahh, Sebastian, fuck," you whine, trying to push your hips back against his hand.

"Answer me, Y/N," he demands.

"Yes," you nod, biting your lip.

"What else did he do to you?" he asks, his fingers tracing over your wet cunt.

"He-" you stop, a whimper escaping your lips when his fingers slowly pump inside you.

"You're so wet," he remarks, his voice low. "I doubt you could get this wet to just anyone, Y/N. How many times did you fuck him?"

"I-I'm not sure," you stutter as his fingers begin to work faster.

"Oh, you little liar," he shakes his head.

"Twice," you blurt out, and his fingers stop their ministrations. "Just twice, okay?"

"And did he ever make you cum?" he then asks, his breath hot against your ear.

"N-no," you shake your head. "Only-only once."

"Well, we'll see if I can do better than that," Sebastian chuckles.

"What?" you gulp, not quite sure if you heard him correctly.

"I said, we'll see if I can make you cum harder than he did."

"Fuck," you groan, closing your eyes.

"What was that, Y/N?"

"Please, Sebastian," you beg, pushing yourself up on your elbows.

"What do you want, baby girl?"

"I want you," you whine, trying to push your hips back against his fingers. "I want you to make me come."

"Good girl," he chuckles, his other hand rubbing your clit as his fingers continue to pump in and out of you.

"Sebastian!"

"Come for me, princess."

Your orgasm rips through you and causes your legs to tremble. "Shit," you curse.

"Are you alright, baby girl?" he asks softly.

"Yeah," you nod, and you can feel the smirk on his lips as he plants a gentle kiss on your shoulder blade.

"We're not done yet," he reminds you, his fingers slowly moving away from your cunt and toward his mouth. "Turn around."

You watch him lick his fingers, tasting you, and it sends a chill down your spine. "You taste incredible, baby girl."

"You're an ass," you grumble.

"Don't you know how to take a compliment, darling?" he chuckles, his eyes locking with yours as he grabs your ankles. He pulls them apart and kneels between them, his face hovering inches away from your dripping pussy.

"Sebastian," you whisper.

Sebastian hums in response as he sticks out his tongue and drags it up and down your slit. You whimper softly and try to squeeze your thighs shut, but Sebastian grabs them and forces them open.

"Don't be embarrassed, darling," he coos.

"Shit," you shake your head, grabbing the sheets beneath you and fisting them into your hands.

"You're so fucking hot," Sebastian groans, his mouth working fast against your cunt.

"Fucking hell, Sebastian," you cry out.

"What's wrong, baby girl?"

"I'm so sensitive," you shake your head, your hips squirming against his face. "You're making me crazy."

"Good," he chuckles, his hands sliding underneath your thighs and lifting your legs over his shoulders.

The room begins to spin around you, and your mind is lost in a fog. Everything feels like it's happening so fast. The feeling of his mouth and fingers is enough to drive you wild, but his tongue is absolutely insane.

"Fuck!" you scream, arching your back as he slips two fingers inside you.

"You like that?"

"Yes," you gasp, your nails clawing into his skin.

"You want more?"

"Yes, yes, fuck, yes," you whimper, tears forming in your eyes.

"Tell me, baby girl," he smirks, his fingers moving faster, his tongue moving slower, "who makes you feel this way?"

"You," you answer, biting your lip.

"Louder, baby girl. Tell me who makes you feel this way."

"You do!" you yell.

"Again."

"You, Sebastian," you nod, tears streaming down your face. "Only you. You're the only one that can make me feel this way. Please, Sebastian, please."

"Please what, Y/N?"

"Fuck, please don't stop," you cry out.

Sebastian, finally satisfied with your answer, moves his tongue and fingers faster. Your eyes roll back and you can barely breathe. You feel as if you're drowning, and the only thing keeping you afloat is the feeling of his hands on your body.

With a scream, your whole body spasms, and your muscles tighten. Sebastian's fingers slow down and eventually stop, but his tongue continues. He takes his time licking you clean before pulling away. "Mmm, you're so fucking delicious," he smirks.

"Fuck, I hate you," you groan.

"No, you don't," he smiles.

"Shut up," you grumble as the two of you shift your positions.

The next thing you know, Sebastian's standing above you while you're on your knees, holding your hair and fucking your head. You close your eyes and take all of him, moaning against his length.

"Fucking hell, Y/N, the things you do to me," he hisses, his grip on your hair tightening.

You moan against him and swallow him down, gagging a little as his tip hits the back of your throat.

"Shit," he gasps.

Your head bobs up and down his shaft, and his cock throbs in your mouth.

"Fuck," he grunts, "you're going to make me come."

You pull off him and lick the tip of his cock.

"Fuck, such a little tease," he growls, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him. "Don't think that just because we're doing this, I'm going to be nice to you."

"I don't expect you to be nice to me," you reply, smirking as his eyes widen. "But you're not the only one who can tease."

You take his cock into your mouth again, and his hands move to the back of your head, holding you in place. His hips thrust forward and back, fucking your throat.

"God, you're a little slut," he groans, his cock twitching in your mouth.

"Mhmm," you nod, pulling him deeper down your throat.

"Fuck," he hisses.

He pulls his cock out and strokes it quickly, and his come shoots out onto your face. It covers your cheeks and your nose. You make no attempt to open your mouth until he's completely done.

"Damn, Y/N, I didn't know you liked getting dirty," he chuckles. "Go ahead, you can taste it."

You stick out your tongue and lick the tip of his cock. He groans as you clean his shaft.

"Fuck, I could watch you do that all day," he shakes his head.

Once you're finished with him, you pull back and gaze up at his half-lidded eyes.

"Shit, baby girl," he smirks, kneeling down and cupping your face. He leans forward and glides his middle finger across the mess on your face before telling you to open your mouth. Without hesitation, you part your lips, and he pushes his finger in. You suck it, cleaning off the bitter fluid, and his cock twitches as he watches.

"You're amazing," he tells you, kissing your cheek. "Come here."

He guides you to your feet and leads you to the edge of the bed. He sits down and pulls you onto his lap.

"So, what happens now?" he asks.

"I'm not sure," you shrug.

"Well," he begins, "I suppose we should go to bed. It's late, and tomorrow is a new day."

"That's true," you nod. "But you haven't fucked me yet."

"Do you want me to?" he asks, his hands sliding up your thighs and squeezing your ass.

"Yes," you reply, biting your lip.

"Good," he smiles, "because I'm not done with you, baby girl."

The two of you laugh as Sebastian rolls you over. You lay on your back, your head resting on the pillow, and Sebastian hovers above you.

"Are you ready?" he asks, stroking himself above you.

"Idiot, get a condom," you smirk as you push him off of you. "I thought you said I was the impatient one."

"Oh, right," he chuckles, grabbing his wand and conjuring up a condom.

"Hurry up, Sallow," you tease.

"Merlin, you're a bossy one," he groans.

"Yeah, yeah, just hurry," you roll your eyes.

Sebastian slips the condom on and leans forward, placing a soft kiss against your lips.

"Are you ready, baby girl?" he asks, his lips lingering near yours.

"Mhm," you nod, biting your lip.

Sebastian reaches between the two of you and positions his cock at your entrance.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he breathes out, kissing your neck and slowly sliding inside of you.

"Ahh," you whimper.

"Fuck, so tight," he groans, pushing further inside. "You're so perfect."

"Sebastian," you gasp as his cock fills you. "Slowly..."

"Don't worry, darling, I've got you," he smiles, leaning down and capturing your lips in a deep kiss.

His hips move slowly at first, his cock stretching and filling you with every thrust. But as time passes, he begins to move faster.

"More," you pant, "I need more."

"You like that?"

"Fuck, Sebastian, fuck me harder," you beg.

"God, Y/N, the way you say my name," he growls, slamming into you. "It drives me crazy."

Sebastian reaches his right hand up to yours and grips tightly. You look up at him with wide eyes as his thumb strokes the back of your hand.

"Do you feel that?" he asks.

"Yes," you nod.

"I'm so close, baby girl. Fuck, I'm so close."

Your eyes begin to water as you glance down between your two bodies. He's so deep inside you, and it feels amazing.

"Come for me, Sebastian," you whimper, biting your lip and clenching around him.

"Shit, Y/N, I can't believe I waited seven years for this," he pants. "Merlin, and I'd do it again, too, just to get the chance to see you like this. To feel you."

His grip on your hand tightens as he pushes himself as deep inside of you as possible. Your orgasm rips through your body, causing you to cry out.

"That's it, darling," he whispers. "I'm right there. Come for me."

Sebastian thrusts one more time, and you feel his cock pulse inside of you as he comes.

"Fuck," he groans, collapsing beside you. "That's so worth getting hit with Weasley's crucio curse."

"Can you not talk about my brother right now?" you smile as you roll to your side to face him.

"Right," he nods, a chuckle escaping his lips. "Sorry."

"It's okay," you tell him, tracing the lines of his abs.

"That was fun," he tells you. "I do hope that wasn't a one-time thing."

"Yeah," you agree.

"Good," he smiles, placing a kiss against your forehead.

The two of you spend the night talking, and you end up falling asleep in each other's arms. You hate to admit it, but you do enjoy spending time with him... And it's not until the next day that you feel the repercussions of sleeping with a Slytherin.

***

The following morning, you appraoch the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall to a bunch of worried faces.

"Where the hell have you been?" Garreth asks as you sit beside down beside him like nothing out of the ordinary happened the night befoer.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you scoff, reaching for a plate of roasted potatoes in front of you.

"You didn't come back to the room last night," Cressida remarks. "Where'd you sleep last night?"

"Uh," you mutter as you try to avoid the conversation by drinking a large cup of orange juice.

"Y/N," Garreth begins, "where did you sleep last night?"

"Well," you begin, setting your glass down and looking over at him, "I slept somewhere else."

Leander nearly chokes on his apple juice as he realizes the meaning of your words.

"I told you not to do anything stupid!" Garreth shouts.

"And I didn't," you shrug.

"You're unbelievable," he groans, shaking his head.

"Who was it?" Cressida asks you curiously. "Was it Northcott?"

"Couldn't've been him," Leander shakes his head. "He was with us."

"Well if nobody was missing from the Gryffindor dorms then that means..." Cressida trails off. "Y/N! You didn't!"

"Wait, what're you implying?" Garreth intervenes. But before anyone can say anything else, the Slytherin quidditch team approaches where you are all seated.

"Hey there," Imelda smirks at your brother. "How's everyone's breakfast? I hope you're enjoying it since it's the last one you'll be eating."

"What's that supposed to mean, Reyes?" Garreth scoffs, looking up at the girl.

"Nothing," she replies, her smile growing. "But, uh, Sallow has something he wants to give back to your sister."

You've never seen Garreth's head whip around so fast in your life when he realizes what Imelda is implying. When he notices the sorry look on your face he stands up and glares across the table at Sebastian. "YOU DIDN'T!"

"Um, Garreth, let's just go outside and-" you try to reason with him as you grab his hand

"No!" he replies, pulling away from your reach.

"Garreth, please," you beg.

"Not a chance in hell," he scoffs. "I'll fucking kill him, Y/N!"

"I didn't realize it was going to be like this," Sebastian shrugs, his hands tucked into his pockets.

"What did you think was going to happen?"

"I didn't really think about it, Weasley," he answers with a shrug.

"Yeah, that sounds like you," Garreth sneers.

"Listen, man, it's not what it looks like," Sebastian begins, his hands coming up in front of him as if to defend himself for Garreth's inevitable attack. "What I mean to say is, I thought Y/N would have already told you. I, uh, actually do like her."

"You can't be serious, Sallow," Leander speaks up, a frown etched across his face. "There's no way. You're a snake. A vile, evil, despicable snake, and Y/N doesn't belong with a Slytherin."

You, Sebastian, and Garreth all roll your eyes at Leander's comment. "Stay out of this," Garreth grumbles.

"No," Leander insists, stepping closer to Sebastian. "This isn't right. This isn't fair."

"Why not?" you question, turning to him.

"Because... because it just isn't," Leander replies. "He's a Slytherin, and you're a Gryffindor, Y/N."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Everything," he shakes his head. "You're our friend. Not his. I won't lose you to-"

Before Leander can say anything more idiotic, Sebastian waves his wand and effectively shuts Leander up with a silencing charm.

"I know what you said, Weasley, and I can understand why you wouldn't want me being with Y/N, but the fact is, she does like me," Sebastian shrugs.

"And why should I trust you?" Garreth sneers.

"Honestly," Sebastian begins, taking a deep breath, "I have no idea, and if I were you, I probably wouldn't. But ask her for yourself."

When Garreth turns to you, your whole body tenses up. How much more embarrasing could this get? You're attracting attention from nearly the whole room and the last thing you want is to be the center of the school's gossip.

"Is he telling the truth, Y/N?"

"Yeah," you sigh, your gaze landing on the ground. "He is. As much as I'd rather not admit it."

"Why?" Garreth asks.

"Because... because..." you shake your head.

Garreth sighs. "Fine, Y/N, if being with a Slytherin obsessed with dark arts and practicing the Unforgivables is what makes you happy, then I can't stop you. Just, promise me that I won't ever have to see the two of you... together."

"Gross," you grumble.

"I don't practice the Unforgivables..." Sebastian says while scratching the back of his neck, as if he's trying to convince himself.

"Yeah whatever," Garreth sighs as he sits back down. "Are you sitting with us or not?"

Sebastian's smirk widens as he sits down across from the two of you. The look on Cressida's face is priceless as she scoots over to make room for him.

"Oh, I'm definitely sitting."

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animasola86 · 8 months ago

Text

A Demonstration of Power and Support

Notes: This is a continuation of Scars and Peace and Comfort, but can be read individually.

Pairing: Aesop Sharp x f!reader (with a face scar)

Genre: Fluff/Smut // Words: 6.3k // [READ ON AO3]

Synopsis: He gave you confidence, you gave him a bad case of jealousy.

WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Size difference. Age gap. Established student/teacher relationship. Jealousy. Rough sex.

A Demonstration of Power and Support

There it was again. That giggle that made his blood boil and his trousers tighten. Looking up from his desk, he saw you laughing with the boys you shared a potion station with. You were happy, smiling, giggling, enjoying yourself, and seeing you like that should make him happy too, but it wasn't you he was glaring at, it was those boys who kept engaging with you, smirking, joking, flirting.

He knew there'd be a downside to your newly acquired confidence. Others would notice it too. And even though he was proud of you for wearing your scar with so much pride now, it pained him to see you with other men, other boys, who would look at you the same way he looked at you, and he hated them and he hated himself for not being able to control his emotions better.

He called you out by your name, the formal way he hadn't called you in so long. You stiffened immediately, the giggle dying in your throat as you turned around to him, a deep blush on your cheeks. “Focus on your potion!” he told you sternly, his gaze dark, his usual demeanour, really, but it made your stomach turn because he was never like that with you. Never, not even before you were more than student and teacher.

You lowered your head, and he saw your lips quivering. “Yes, professor,” you said docilely. “I'm sorry, professor.”

His heart broke a little when he saw you so defeated, the happiness wiped straight from your beautiful face as you returned to your cauldron, staring into it, as you forced yourself not to get too emotional over his unexpected outburst.

You even ignored the boys around you now. Despite feeling bad for calling you out publicly, he watched with grim satisfaction how his students returned to their work. There was no more giggling.

After class, he sat at his desk, sunken over essays and other papers, when he heard quiet footsteps echo through the empty classroom. “No office hours today,” he said gruffly without looking up. He was definitely not in the mood to deal with any stupid questions right now.

“I'm sorry,” a timid voice replied, and he looked up quickly to see you standing a few feet away from the table, your hands clenched in front of you, your eyes glued to the floor. You were about to turn around again, your face sunken, hurt by his rejection, but he quickly extended a hand towards you.

“Wait...” he called with a heavy sigh, hating himself even more for being... who he was.

You looked up at him, biting your lip before you slowly walked closer, staring at his hand. Your eyes finally met his, dark and intimidating, and you hesitated before you placed your small hand into his larger one.

He quickly closed his fingers around it and pulled you towards him. A gasp escaped you, and your eyes widened slightly. You stopped next to his chair, shoulders still slumped, as you awaited another lecture.

But he just squeezed your hand gently, his dark gaze wandering over your face. He was tempted to raise his other hand and caress your flushed cheek and your scars, but he was well aware that his classroom might be empty, yet the door was open, and despite wanting to show everyone who you belonged to, he couldn't. He never could, not here, not anywhere in public.

And that was what hurt the most.

“I'm sorry,” you said again, your voice so quiet and fragile. “I didn't mean to... disrupt your class...”

He groaned, rubbing his tired eyes. “Please, forget about that. I shouldn't have called you out like that. I'm sorry,” he added, looking up at you from his seat as his thumb rubbed over the back of your hand. “I suppose I'm just... grumpy today,” he added, a twinkle in his eyes as he recited the word you had called him before, in good fun though.

You weren't always this meek around him, especially when the two of you were alone. And he loved that about you. You were never intimidated by his gruff nature, you even teased him about it on occasion. But when you were in his classroom, you were just another student, and he admired you for it, admired the shift when everyone else poured out and you were finally alone with him.

When nobody was watching, you couldn't stop yourself from touching him, throwing your arms around him, pressing yourself against him, your tiny body moulding to his bigger one.

But now you were different, barely able to look at him as you stared at your hand in his. He saw the struggle on your face, and he sighed.

“Do you... still want me to come over tonight?” you whispered timidly, your voice shaking.

He grabbed your other hand then and made you look at him in surprise. “Of course, sweetheart,” he said softly, frowning at you. “I'm always looking forward to seeing you.” He exhaled loudly again, cradling both of your hands between his long fingers. “Don't let the gruff exterior fool you.”

He saw your lips twitching before you smiled shyly at him, your cheeks bright red.

A sudden noise from the door made him turn his head, and when he noticed the boy standing there, waiting for you apparently, he slowly, inconspicuously, let go of your hands and leaned back, clearing his throat.

“That'll be all,” he said loudly, throwing you a gaze you hopefully didn't interpret as another scowl, and you turned your head away for a moment, then nodded in understanding.

“Thank you, professor,” you played along, and he gave you the hint of a wink as he watched you go, his eyes roaming your small form, before you joined your classmate and were gone from his view.

Feeling his stomach tightening at the sight, he sighed deeply and rubbed his bearded chin. He really should have known better than to allow himself to be this affected by a student...

‎

When you sneaked into his quarters after dinner, he was waiting in the large armchair by the fireplace. As soon as the door opened and closed by invisible hands, he stood with a deep groan and slowly walked towards your disillusioned form. You had barely lifted the charm, when he grabbed your shoulders and pulled you against his broad chest.

You gasped but were quick to wrap your arms around his waist and press your cheek against him. He held you close and kissed the top of your head.

“Thanks for coming,” he growled quietly, making you lean back enough to tilt your chin up and look at him, a confused frown on your beautiful face.

“Of course,” you whispered, your eyes scanning his hard face. You were about to raise a hand and touch his rough jaw, when he closed his hand around your wrist and took a step back.

“Come with me,” he said and pulled you along to the large fireplace.

You looked towards the entryway to his bedroom, then up at him in confusion. “No massage tonight?” you asked quietly.

“No,” he grunted. “I've taken my potions, I'm fine...” He knew he didn't look fine, face tense, deep shadows under his dark eyes, jaw clenched. But unlike you, he knew he was tense for a different reason, and he could no longer wait to relieve that growing tightness.

He stopped in front of the fireplace and put his wand to the stone ornament in the middle of the mantelpiece, and with a low rumble, the secret passage behind it opened. He extinguished the fire and bent down slightly to traverse the tight space, holding out his hand to you.

You grabbed it, a mixture of confusion and excitement grazing your delicate features. Once you were on the other side of the fireplace, you noticed the staircase in front of you. “What is this?” you asked curiously, but he just dragged you after him, up the stairs, surprisingly fast despite his limping walk.

You reached a small room, and for a moment, you just stared. There were easels all around, with drawings and sketches of landscapes and buildings, charcoal, quills, brushes and other drawing equipment lying on all kinds of surfaces, bookcases and shelves lined the walls, and the spaces between them were filled with murals of mythical creatures. There were wooden dummies standing and sitting on the furniture, and a wood carving station at the other end of the room. But the most prominent feature was the large, sturdy looking table in the middle, long and wide like a small bed, and it was completely empty.

But not for long. While you still looked around the small space in awe, so many questions on your mind, he had stepped behind you and picked you up on his arms, and you shriek-laughed in surprise. You knew he was strong, despite the state of his body, but he had never carried you like this before. There was a certain warmth pooling in your cheeks, and elsewhere.

To be fair he didn't walk long before he set you down on the edge of the large table. For a moment he stood there, towering over you, his eyes dark and his face set, and you looked up at him with your heart racing and your lips trembling, and (shamefully) your core throbbing.

He licked his lips then and stepped closer, his hands gently prying your thighs apart as he stepped between them, pushing your skirt up tantalisingly slow. His calloused fingers glided over your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

You felt dizzy when they reached your centre. His fingertips teased against the fabric of your undergarments, poking and prodding, and he hummed deeply when he felt a wet patch forming. “Excited, aren't you?” he whispered and leaned over you until his breath ghosted your flushed cheeks. Not sure if he wanted an answer or not, you just nodded, chewing on your lips nervously.

He gave you a dark grimace, lowering his head, and when you felt his fingers pushing the thick fabric of your underwear deeper between your folds, he pressed his lips to yours for a heated kiss that quickly left you breathless for multiple reasons. Your heart was racing as your eyelids fluttered shut, his tongue very demanding tonight as it slipped into your mouth and tangled with yours.

You moaned against his lips as he started rubbing the pad of his finger between your still cloth covered lower lips, teasing against your entrance and brushing against your clit. More mewls left you when his free hand grabbed the back of your head, gripping your hair and pulling you closer to him as he kissed you like he might have never kissed you before. He barely left you the chance to breathe, and in his iron grip, you couldn't turn your head away.

Feeling light-headed, you just succumbed to the sensation, kissing him back with as much fervour as you could muster, while he kept moving his finger against your throbbing centre, the chafing fabric creating a friction that burned deliciously. A deep whimper escaped your throat, and he finally leaned away, his lips looking as swollen as yours felt. Licking them, you looked up at him, the blush from your face quickly spreading all over your body.

He straightened up fully, in all his intimidating glory as he glowered down at you. His eyes remained on yours as his hands slipped under the waistband of your underwear and slowly pushed down, and you almost didn't notice the small tug when he asked you to lift your rear. You did, your shaking hands clawing at the edge of the table as you watched him pull your bloomers down your legs before they were unceremoniously tossed aside.

Your chest rose and fell quicker when he spread your legs even further with his hands firmly on your upper thighs, his fingers almost completely circling them while his thumbs rubbed against your sensitive skin. A cold breeze wafted over your exposed mound, your clit throbbing in anticipation. He tilted his head when he looked down, his eyes roaming your body.

You almost shrieked when he suddenly pulled a stool closer, the scraping sound cutting through your tense nerves like a stab to the heart. Pressing your lips together to keep your noises down, you watched him sitting down on the stool, and now he was really looking at you. His elbows pressed your legs apart as he stared at your sex, fully on display for him.

Squirming slightly, you felt a little uncomfortable with him inspecting you like that, not that he hadn't seen it before, but never with such intensity. You let out a little squeal when he moved one of his hands to gently cup your mound, his whole palm pressed to it, covering it, and when he looked up at you, the familiar warmth was back in his eyes. You breathed a little easier when he reached his other hand up and caressed your cheek with the back of his fingers, coaxing a shy smile from you.

He loved seeing you like that, confused, embarrassed, submissive, and highly aroused. Holding your gaze for another moment, he rubbed his hand over your wet folds, gathering your slick on his palm. When he finally bent a finger and slipped it between your lower lips, he watched you closely, and as a soft squelching sound rang in his ears, he saw you writhing in discomfort, frowning slightly, but it made him smile at you, and your embarrassment was quickly forgotten.

His finger moved between your folds before he dipped it gently into your entrance, and you accepted him easily with how wet you were. A soft moan escaped you, and he saw how you tightened your grip on the table, your knuckles turning white. He pushed the finger in as far as it would go, feeling your walls clenching around it, then withdrew it and added another finger. Your breath hitched at the slight stretch, but he kept going, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you, twisting and turning them until he curled them in a come hither motion – and caused you to yelp and squirm against his hand.

With a dark smile, he pressed against that sensitive spot again and again, watching you twitch on the table, your lips parted and trembling, soft little mewls falling from them. And then he pushed his thumb against your clit, hitting your pleasure points in tandem, and you lost it, thrashing your head back, your thighs convulsing against him, your noises tumbling out of you without control. He stood then, his hand still gripping your cunt tightly as he leaned in to capture your mouth, swallowing your moans and cries as you climaxed hard around his fingers.

Your release coated his hand, and he slowly eased his grip, rubbing your insides softly while you came down from your high. Kissing you gently, he watched you with eager eyes, taking in every single twitch, and when he leaned away, you were breathing hard and shaking badly. He pulled his fingers out of your clenching cunt and raised them to your face.

Despite your haze, you slowly unclenched your trembling hands from around the edge of the table and cradled his wet fingers between them before you brought them to your mouth, and when you started licking your slick off his skin, you held his gaze, and the hunger within your eyes made his erection strain against his trousers.

His breath hitched as he watched (and felt) your small tongue flicking around his long fingers, licking up every single drop of wetness, you even put them into your mouth, hollowed your cheeks and sucked on them hard, and he was tempted to press them deeper, watch you really lose control when you would gag around them, struggling to breathe, but instead he tugged at them and you released them with a wet pop. You almost sighed in disappointment when he lowered his hand that was glistening in your saliva.

He wiped it on his leg and licked his lips, slowly tilting his head before he nodded at you, a simple, curt nod, and when his eyes left yours to look down at where his groin pressed against the table, holding your spread legs wide open, you nodded back and moved your small hands towards the buttons of his trousers. You were quick as usual, and when his hard erection sprang free from its confines, he saw your eyes widening slightly as you blushed even deeper.

The same way that he had inspected your cunt earlier, you were now looking at his cock, taking in every single detail, from the springy darkened head to the bulging veins and impressive length and girth of it, and you felt a new wave of moisture seeping out of your waiting hole. The sheer necessity to have him inside you made you squirm on the table, needy little mewls escaping your throat. His desire to be inside of you was equally high, but he only let out a deep grunt when your hands closed around his shaft and stroked it almost roughly.

You writhed on the edge, slowly scooting closer, eager to connect with him finally, but he grabbed your wrist and stopped you. Looking up at him with your lips parted in surprise, he took in your youthful face, the innocence edged into your soft features, but your eyes and the way your lips quivered told a different story. And he could have stared at you for a very long time, despite the throbbing need resting in your hands, but in the end the carnal lust won.

He pried your hands from his cock and grabbed your waist, and without much effort he flipped you on the table, made you lie down on your stomach with your legs hanging off, your surprised yelp squeezed out of you as he gripped your hair and pressed your cheek into the cold wooden surface. Then he grabbed your ankles and brought your knees up, causing your rear to rise in front of him, your skirt bunched up on your lower back, exposing every glistening fold to his viewing pleasure.

You were barely able to adjust to the new position when you felt his hard member slapping against your wetness. Your hands found the opposite side of the table just in time when he pressed his tip against your entrance. Bracing yourself, you felt him pushing in, slowly, carefully, but as soon as your walls clenched around his head and pulled him in more, he snapped his hips against you hard and buried his entire length inside you. The deep thrust pushed you over the table and the sudden stretch coaxed a shrill shriek out of you.

He held onto your ankles, his body flush with the edge of the table, caging you in, holding you in place, as he started pulling out and pushing back in, out and in, in and out, slow and deliberate, over and over again, and you mewled under the constant friction, your body melting into the table. Once he found his rhythm, his big hands wandered to your tiny waist, closing around it, his long fingers grazing your stomach, and then he really started to pound into you.

Your noises grew louder, as did the wet squelching sounds as your pussy fluttered around him, muscles clenching, a burning warmth gathering inside you. You sank your nails into the old wood, holding on for dear life as his pelvis smacked against your cushioned arse in quick succession. His own grunts filled your ears, adding to the tension building up in your belly, those deep vibrations pushing you right over the edge.

You cried out when your walls clamped around him, that tight coil within exploding into a thousand tiny lights that made your entire body convulse against him. He felt your orgasmic contractions, and despite the soreness in his leg, he kept fucking you through your release, your juices helping in easing your tight passage, but he still strained to keep his rhythm. His fingers dug into your soft skin, and he felt a bead of sweat running along his temple.

He might have overdone it tonight, adding that certain potion to the many others he had to take on the daily to soothe the pain, but his desire to dominate you properly had been too strong. Seeing you with those boys had made him incredibly jealous, not that he would ever admit to it or even tell you so, but he had felt it in his gut, and the moment you had stepped over his threshold, he had known he had to show you that you'd never need anyone but him.

At least for as long as you were blessed with each other's presence.

Closing his eyes, he continued his relentless assault on your clenching cunt, your moans and whimpers giving him the necessary strength to move even faster and harder and deeper, and each time he smacked against your cervix, you would yelp and mewl and convulse in his iron grip on your waist.

It didn't take long for you to come once more, your limbs twitching uncontrollably as your juices gushed past the tight grip of your walls while his cock kept pistoning in and out, squeezed by your orgasm, and finally he felt his balls tighten, that painful tension in his stomach easing when he gave you one last deep thrust before he came inside you, painting your insides with his seed, marking you as his.

He groaned and stilled against you, holding you pressed to his pelvis as he leaned over you slightly, his weight making your knees quake before they slipped from beneath you, and you slumped to the table, legs hanging off bonelessly, gasping for air as his body pushed heavy on yours, his cock gliding even deeper, twitching and throbbing inside you.

You felt dizzy and were still seeing stars when he eventually leaned back, easing the vice-like grip of his fingers on your bruised waist. You didn't care. You felt more bruises blooming in and on your body, so it didn't matter either way. The releases he allowed you were worth the rough handling.

And apparently he wasn't done yet. While he slipped out of your tight cunt, with your combined juices seeping out of you and down your legs, you admired his stamina and wondered how he was able to even stand so straight and tall after the unusual exertion. He almost never took you like this, you usually found positions that wouldn't strain his stiff leg, but he had been weird the whole day, and as long as he seemed fine with this, you couldn't care less.

Your mind was spinning, the sensations still whirling in your head (and throbbing in your sex), and they jumbled about even more when he suddenly flipped you onto your back again, your limp legs flopping over the edge of the table as you blinked up at him.

He stood tall and intimidating between your twitching thighs, his hands rubbing along your hips as his dark eyes roamed your face and body. While you tried to sit up, leaning on your elbows despite the shudders crushing through your body, he didn't wait long to continue your adventure. Your eyes snapped to his still erect cock, and you blinked in confusion. He had just emptied himself inside you, how was he still that hard?

It didn't matter in the end when he grabbed his length and pressed it against your entrance once more, easily slipping inside, the loud squelching noise as he pushed his seed back into you causing goosebumps to ripple over your bare legs. The stretch made you inhale sharply, but you quickly adjusted, and not a moment too soon as he started grinding his hips into you, every slam hitting your bruised cervix.

You let out a pained whimper every time he did, but the more he moved inside you, the more pleasure you felt in the motion. Your whole body was on fire, and you wished you wouldn't wear all these layers of your uniform as sweat coated your skin and drenched your clothes. You felt him moving slower until he stopped completely, deeply buried within your warmth.

When you looked up at him, his already very dark eyes were so black and intense, you felt cold shivers running down your spine. Swallowing hard, you tried to sit up more, your hands propped up behind you, but you wanted to touch him, feel the tension in his muscles, the strength in his grip. Ease the darkness away that seemed to grip him tightly tonight.

But you couldn't move, couldn't say anything, you felt like a bunny cornered by the big bad wolf, pinned down by his big paws (and massive cock), rendered unable to even breathe as he stared down at you. A meek little whine escaped you as he suddenly leaned over you, one arm propped on the table next to you, the other hand extended to brush his thumb against your cheek as his fingers slid into your hair. You felt the rough pad following the protruding lines of your scar all the way over your eye to your split eyebrow, and you quickly closed your eyes to allow him the motion.

He moved it back down, the touch gentle but also firm, and when he gripped your hair, you yelped and your eyes flew open again. He held you in place like that, staring straight into your soul, and you felt yourself melting into his gaze.

Seeing you so submissive, surrendering to him so completely, made his heart race. There was a dark shadow creeping around the edge of his vision and deeper into his very being. He had never felt this possessive before, never this demanding. He'd never been this rough to you, either, and by watching your lips trembling, your hair clinging to your sweaty forehead, your whole body quaking against and around him, he knew he had been a little too rough.

And still he was far from regretting anything. He couldn't. He wasn't done yet.

His hand tightened around your head and pulled you closer to him, and as soon as the strained mewl left your throat, he had claimed your mouth and kissed you deeply. You hummed against him, despite everything kissing him back with fervour, your hands finding his arm as you held onto him while he gripped your hair.

As he slipped his tongue between your lips, he started moving within you again, slow, deliberate thrusts, and your cunt replied in full when it started clenching around him. He swallowed your moans and whimpers before he let you catch your breath and kissed your cheek, then your scar, licking up the sweat from your temple, until he pulled your earlobe between his teeth and nibbled on it, his stubble scraping over your soft skin. Your breaths were loud in his ear, and a deep shudder crashed through him as a particularly sensual mewl slipped from your swollen lips.

A grunt escaped him, and he bit your ear playfully before leaning back fully, staring down at you darkly. “Get your tits out,” he commanded roughly, still rolling his hips into you as you scrambled to prop yourself up on your elbows after he had let you go rather unceremoniously.

Despite the vulgar tone you had never heard him use before, you quickly fumbled with the buttons of your shirt, your fingers shaking badly, but eventually you pushed all those layers aside and freed your small breasts.

His big hands closed around them, kneaded them anything but gently, and you whimpered quietly, squirming on the table. He rolled your nipples between his fingers, then pinched them so hard you let out a surprised yelp.

His gaze was dark, jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed. After a few moments of groping your soft mounds, he let them go and grabbed your hands and placed them on your chest. “Play with them,” he ordered, and you did, fondling them much more carefully, easing the aching his touch had left.

He watched you grimly, his hands moving back to your waist, fingers digging into the bunched up fabric of your skirt, before he slammed his hips against your pulsing centre in harder motions again. You cried out when his cock pushed against your battered cervix, but he kept going, giving you those slow but powerful thrusts that went deep and left you breathless.

Your fingers clawed at your breasts in support, your breaths as erratic as your heartbeat, as he pushed you up and down the table, your bare bottom scraping over the wooden surface every time he pulled you into the snap of his hips.

You wanted to watch him, observe the strain on his weathered face, how his eyebrows furrowed in dark concentration, how he gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw, the deep rumbles escaping his throat the only audible sign of his exertion, but you soon succumbed to his pounding strokes as your eyes rolled back and you sank your fingernails into your own soft mounds while you clenched tighter around him.

He looked at you, your tiny body so fragile before him, the state of it absolutely feral with your open shirt, your small hands holding onto your breasts, your hair stuck to your sweaty skin, your lips raw and quivering, your eyelids fluttering, while he slammed his cock into your spluttering wetness, your legs limp and boneless as they bounced against him with every rough impact.

Despite the immense pleasure this brought him, he felt horrible, for the way he treated you, for how he spoke to you, for his own stupid jealousy. As if it was your fault that those pesky boys suddenly noticed you, if anything, it was his fault for giving you the confidence to walk about proudly, with no care in the world, especially not about those lines that grazed your cheek.

The worst part was that you didn't give him any reason to be jealous. You had come to him after class, with your head hanging, confused by his bad mood, afraid of his rejection. And you still wanted to see him, spend the night with him, be with him despite everything. And all he wanted was to prove to you that he was the only one you'd ever need, when in reality you seemed to already know that.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he stilled inside you, eased his rapid rhythm, and when he looked at you again, you were still barely able to meet his gaze. He moved his large hands around your limp body and lifted you up, pressed you to his chest, held you close, save and protected, before he started moving again, slow and gentle, not as deep so he wouldn't hurt you any more, and not as fast so he wouldn't overwhelm you.

You slowly came to in his arms, fingers clawing at the front of his waistcoat as you tilted your chin to look up at him. Your eyes were glazed over and your pupils dilated, you looked utterly spent already. He leaned down and kissed your sweaty forehead, and you smiled softly at the gentle touch. Another reason why he absolutely did not deserve such a sweet little girl: you were too forgiving (and not a girl per se, not anymore, he had made sure of that).

He shifted you in his hold, one hand under your rear, the other flat on your back, fingers curling around your shoulder. The new position seemed to wake you up more again, and you slowly wrapped your legs around his hips, holding onto him, trying to take some of your weight off his arms, not that you weighed anything in his eyes, you were a mere doll in his hands.

Still you gripped his broad shoulders and started moving your hips against him, meeting his gentle thrusts with more fervour than he would have expected of you in your somewhat battered state. He couldn't help but underestimate you sometimes, given your age and size, though that usually made him admire you even more when you proved him wrong, because you were more resilient than he thought, stronger, braver, and needier.

And by how tight your cunt clenched around his cock, you were very needy at the moment. Together you found a fast rhythm, as you bounced against him and he snapped his hips upwards, he was so focused he didn't even notice the dull ache in his leg, and when you started mewling again, he closed his eyes and smiled, savouring the sweet sounds as he drove you closer to the edge.

You and himself, to be exact, because when you suddenly convulsed against him, your legs holding him in a death grip while you sank your fingernails into the thick layers of his clothes, you grabbed him by the cravat and pulled him right along into the blissful abyss.

Crying out loudly, you came around him hard, your muscles contracting, squeezing him, and he twitched with you, embracing you tightly as he groaned and grunted, his hips giving you jerky little stabs before he pushed deep and stopped, pressing your tiny body against his, holding you in place as he erupted inside you, filling you with his hot seed once more. You moaned into his chest as you spasmed against him.

He felt his strength waning and collapsed onto the stool next to the table with a pained growl, your frame still cradled on his lap, still impaled by his softening length. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned against him, both of you slowly coming down from the high that made your head spin and his heart race.

“Are you okay?” He was the first to speak, even though his voice sounded raw and gruffer than usual.

“I wanted to ask you the same thing,” you whispered back, slowly looking up at him, your cheek resting against his shoulder.

His dark eyes met yours. “I'll be fine,” he said, too tired to smile. “Did I hurt you?” he then added, not too tired to frown at you.

You shook your head. You'd be sore tomorrow, for sure, but you usually were when you'd been with him, and you'd become quite used to it. Maybe you even liked it (a lot, you liked it a lot). It was a constant reminder that this big strong man had accepted and invited you into his life, and you'd do anything to keep it that way for as long as possible.

He watched you closely, definitely doubting your reply. But he didn't press it, he only pressed you, closer to his chest. You inhaled deeply and smiled at him, slowly raising a hand to move your fingertips over his strong jaw up along the ragged lines of his scar and back down again. The sound of his beard scraping against your skin sent shivers down your spine and made you clench around him.

Shifting beneath you, he exhaled loudly. Despite your weak state (and the growing desire to do it all over again), you noticed the strain in his movements. He was in pain, that much was clear. And you felt guilty for not seeing it earlier. Before he could move, you loosened your limbs around him, grabbed his shoulders and stood on shaking limbs before you lifted yourself off him. Your walls protested, clinging to him, but then he slipped out of you, and you sighed deeply at the loss.

Leaning against the table (because you'd fall over otherwise), you held out your hands to him, and even though he usually refused that gesture out of pride, he grabbed them and let you help him pull himself to his feet. As soon as he stood, you wrapped your arms around his midriff and held him close (and steady). He rubbed his hand over your back, his other arm propped on the table for support.

While he tried to find his bearings, you quickly tucked his spent cock away again and buttoned his trousers. You didn't care how you looked, though, so you left your shirt wide open. The cold breeze on your heated skin felt nice, and you were sure he didn't mind the view.

You remained close to him when he started walking, slow and careful, each step coaxing a quiet groan out of him. You knew you weren't of much help, he couldn't really lean on you with how tiny you were compared to him, but you still steadied him, and even if he would never admit to it, he was grateful that you did these things so nonchalantly. There was no pity, just support, unwavering support. He held onto you as you both left the hidden room and descended the many steps down to his quarters where he knew you'd take good care of him after he had taken so good care of you.

“By the way, what is that room?” you asked quietly, curious eyes looking up at him.

“My... hobby room,” he replied hesitantly, his voice rough and low, vibrating through him (and you). “But I haven't been up there in a while,” he added, his dark eyes boring into yours.

“Found a new hobby, eh?” you concluded with a smirk that warmed your cheeks – and surprisingly so: his too.

His arm tightened around you, his lips twitching slightly. “Possibly.”

NEXT PART: A Demonstration of Pride and Pain

End notes: In the end, our grumpy old man is just another ambitious, possessive Slytherin that struggles with his jealousy, right?

(Also to clear things up because I tend to be really vague about these things in my writing: he "enhanced" himself (via an unnamed potion) that night to last longer to show her that she doesn't need those young boys who might be better suited for her, she only needs him, and of course, she already knows that, but still adores it when he dominates her like that. Because who wouldn't...)

And on another note: his secret hobby room, right? I just can't see him walking up all those stairs, or even crouching through the fireplace, but then again he has to brave all of Hogwarts' staircases too, so what's one more or two or three? And I know the room might just be an Easter egg like display for some concept art or whatnot, but I can totally see him drawing and sketching and whittling away in there, just sitting and working with his hands, because what else can he do, hm?

Seriously, the more I write for him, the better I get his character, and it intrigues me more and more, and I feel I've only scratched the surface still.

Edit: I have now written a fourth part (see link above!), and I am thinking about more (and maybe you could do that too? I am open for ideas/requests!). So stay tuned, and thank you so much for reading my little Sexy Times with Sharp Series.

[ MORE SHARP SMUT ] [ MASTERLIST ] [ AO3 ]

#aesop sharp #aesop sharp smut #aesop sharp x reader #aesop sharp x mc #reader insert #fem reader #female reader #hogwarts legacy smut #professor sharp #professor sharp smut #professor sharp x mc #professor sharp x reader #professor aesop sharp #fluff #smut #mysmut #daddy sharp

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rizsu · 1 year ago

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of importance lyney, neuvillette.

sum. what happens when dealing with an unserious partner and another who's never easy to read and secretly emotional.

it's unusually quiet for a friday. if lyney's not practicing magic tricks, he's flirting your ears off. whatever the case may be, lyney is always within an arm's reach but today isn't like that. ever since he rolled out of bed, lyney kept contact short and busied himself with anything but you.

not that it's a big deal — he's a magician. a nation-wide famous magician. of course he's not going to be glued to you like a velcro strap but who's to say his mind isn't spiralling with you?

lyney isn't busy. he snuck out under the guise of work to practice a cheesy, lovey-dovey magic trick. the trick's simple: in one hand, he'll create the illusion of pulling a cloth through it with another. at the end of the cloth, he'll crumple it in his fist to reveal a key covered in rainbow rose's petals. when you retrieve the key, he'll then guide you to a locked chest; open it and there lies a bouquet mixed with marcottes and rainbow roses, a letter, and an envelope.

in all honesty, lyney thinks the trick's destined to fail. he's already hidden the chest — the problem lies in the first part. he knows no fear until it comes to showing you any tricks. tricks that aren't for the opera theatre. the difference between you and them isn't big: you know most secrets behind his tricks, they don't. hopefully you're too amazed by him to understand the "magic" behind it.

taking baby steps into your home, he sneaks behind you, tapping on your shoulder to surprise you. "what'ya doing?"

you took a sharp turn around, raising your hand to defend only to stop yourself. "oh my god, lyney, don't scare me like that!"

lyney laughs, finding amusement in you. sitting on the bed, he prepares himself for the mini magic show. with both hands behind his back, lyney speaks, "i have a little something to show you."

"really?" you questioned, paying more attention to your moisturizer.

"yes, so focus on me," demanding your attention on him, he stands up with a little jump, lips pressed into a cheeky smile.

"i know that look on your face." your eyes squinted, already guessing what's about to happen.

lyney can only smile in response, tilting his head as he focused his eyes on you. feeling confident in his skills, he begins the play.

"eyes on me, okay?"

"yes, yes," nodding you, lean on the dressing counter, pouring all your attention on his hands.

unfortunately, the feeling of doom lyney felt earlier proved itself to be true. just before he could've crumpled the petal-covered key, everything fell out of the cloth.

"oh—"

"should i — should i turn around?" you asked, stifling a giggle. while lyney looks betrayed, you felt your stomach harden at every attempt to not laugh.

"no," he spoke, feeling no shame, lyney walks to you, one hand secured on your lower back as the other stations itself on the counter. "i have a better idea."

"oh!" now it's your turn to be stunned.

"monsieur neuvillette, don't you dare think of running away." you barged into his office, taking large, demanding steps towards him.

neuvillette's confused. he has no intention of running — it's unsightly for his position in fontaine. his confusion only increases when you slammed both hands on his desk.

"my apologies, monsieur neuvillette! i tried to stop her," the security melusine apologizes, clearing the situation on her half to neuvillette. she shoots you a glare due to your unmannerly entrance at such an important place.

"it's all right, do not fret," he responds, redirecting his eyes to you. "what happened?"

"you, mr. justice, forgot something didn't you?" you started, lacing your tone with pettiness.

his confusion bar reaching its peak, neuvillette's face remained calm in contrast to him racking his brain to remember what he forgot. there's no way he forgot anything. he's a scheduled man who gets things done within one-to-two business days!

"i'm not certain. if such happened then i apologize, my dear."

you can only sigh, dramatically dropping your head. deciding it'll be best to remind him, you spoke, "maybe i should've requested a trial. it was our anniversary yesterday."

shock, disbelief, and many other unknown human-related emotions swirled through neuvillette. although he knows not a sentence about anniversaries and its importance to your kind, he knows it's something you treasure.

"forgive me, please."

"it's okay, i just wanted to tease you!" you attempted to reassure him. however, such methods doesn't work on him. he will make it up to you. whether it's today, this evening or tonight.

"it is not okay. if you aren't busy, i will clear my schedule right now," neuvillette spoke with dominance. he's not allowing this to go by.

you stretch an arm out to pinch his cheek, giving in to his words. "you already know i'm never busy."

"that i do," he nods, signing off his name to declare the end of his shift.

neuvillette walks to you, taking your hand in his. giving your hand a light squeeze, he apologizes again, "please, forgive my ignorance."

"hey, it's okay. you're not a machine to remember everything," you reassured him again, moving your gaze to the windows. "huh — wasn't it sunny just a minute ago? why's it so cloudly?"

neuvillette doesn't respond. too immersed sulking at the thought of missing something so important to you by an entire day.

#. ae-generated: genshin impact #where. is. arlecchino.#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #lyney x reader #neuvillette x reader #genshin drabbles #lyney drabbles #neuvillette drabble

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perotovar · 3 months ago

Text

before a mirror — drabble

moodboard by @yopossum

pairing: jack daniels/marcus pike rating: PG content: fluff, jack and his never ending list of petnames, flirting, general cuteness word count: 626 dividers: @saradika-graphics beta: @qveerthe0ry (ily)

a/n: written for @yopossum 's mootboard and minifics celebration!! thank you for letting me be a part of it and congrats, honey ♥

masterlist | follow @oakslibrary and turn on notifs ♥

New York was like a second home to Jack.

The first would always be Kentucky, where his mama made the best pecan pie, and where he first learned to ride a horse. It’s also where Statesman headquarters is, but Jack wasn’t so lucky to be there. He’d been stationed at the New York office for years now and had gotten used to the unsavory sounds and people.

But New York had a lot of good things as well.

For one, not that Jack would ever admit it out loud, New York had a lot of amazing museums. He had a soft spot for the paintings, and when he had quiet moment, he’d pop over to a museum nearby to take a walk.

Jack’s favorite painting was of a nude woman, standing in front of a mirror. He didn’t know the meaning behind it or what it was meant to depict, but it spoke to him. The colors were both rich and warm as well as cool and standoffish.

“Woman before a Mirror by Toulouse-Lautrec, 1897,” a smooth voice hummed next to him. Jack turned toward the man, an easy smirk creeping onto his face as he recognized who it was. “Post-Impressionism.”

“Swear, y’must be an encyclopedia of art, Pike,” Jack chuckled, stuffing his hands into the pockets of the tight denim he wore.

Marcus rolled his eyes and snorted. “It’s literally my job,” he shrugged.

“Details.”

The two had met a few times. Marcus’ job often led him up north to take care of a few cases and Jack didn’t get a chance to go out into the field much anymore. Not unless something big happened or came up.

“Which street food catch yer fancy this time?”

“There’s a really good hot dog stand down the street, might go there after this.”

“And what’s this today, sugar sweet?” Jack smiled. He hadn’t looked away from the painting yet, not until it took Marcus a second to answer. That was something he really appreciate about Marcus Pike. He always made sure he said exactly what he was thinking. He was very focused, to the point. Jack wished he could be a little more like that sometimes.

When he turned his head toward Marcus, his breath caught in his throat a little. It always shocked him to see Marcus up close like this; he had such a striking profile and intense, but sweet eyes.

“Just taking a walk, actually. I’m on my lunch,” Marcus grinned.

“No kiddin’? So am I.”

“I know. You always come here around this time.”

“You keepin’ tabs on me, Pike?” Jack smirked.

Marcus shrugged, smiled, and didn’t answer, looking back at the painting. “And if I am?”

Normally, this would raise suspicion for Jack, but given Marcus’ line of work he knew he didn’t have anything to worry about. Statesman had every law enforcement officer’s information, including their undercover identities, so he knew Marcus Pike was cleaner than clean.

“Well, angel eyes, I think I’d ask ya what ya had planned, then.”

“Come with me. I’ll get you one of those hot dogs,” Marcus winked, turning toward Jack and looking him over. Jack felt a chill run down his spine.

He looked back at the painting and took it in one more time. The colors and the mood washed over him, briefly taking him to a time period he’d never known. He wondered what Marcus saw when he looked at this painting. He’ll have to ask him sometime.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirtin’ with me, Pike,” Jack hummed. He watched as Marcus walked toward the entrance of the exhibit and back out into the main hall.

Marcus looked at the cowboy over his shoulder and grinned. “And if I am?”

#mootboardsandminifics #agent whiskey #agent whiskey fic #agent whiskey fanfiction #agent whiskey fluff #jack daniels fanfic #jack daniels fanfiction #jack daniels fic #jack daniels fluff #marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #ppcu fanfiction #ppcu fics #oaksfics

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saintslewis · 1 year ago

Text

❝ it’s the soul that needs a surgery ❞

pairing: lewis hamilton x black!fem reader

summary: you’ve never felt a shared pain worse than what Abu Dhabi have given you and Lewis.

warnings: this entire drabble is based on AD21, cuss words, lots of crying, mean words said by mean people, slight…everything atp.

saint’s notes: feeling a bit sad after watching a Lewis edit where he still smiles even after AD21 and still stays positive and that just breaks my heart so i’ve decided to break yours 🫵🏽

taglist: @thisismeracing (thank you love), @flowerchild-96 (for your kindness)

The heat in Jeddah was unbearable and everyone seemed to be affected by it but chose to continue with whatever they were busy. As media followed you to the buzzing Mercedes garage, you took out your phone to inform your husband that you’ve arrived and will be waiting for him with Angela.

Your confidence had reached an all time high from the moment you landed in Abu Dhabi. It was a day of the champion spirit to float around the Hamilton household once again, a day for Lewis to win his 8th World Championship and for him to continue his legacy as the greatest driver that Formula One has ever seen. You refused to think anything negative about this race but something in the back of your head kept itching to argue your positive feelings about it. He had hyped himself up for today and you joined him, knowing that everything would go well.

Spotting your father in law, Anthony, standing outside the garage made you sigh of relief, knowing you could safely offload your thoughts to someone who most likely had the same thoughts as you in concern for your husband. “Hey Anthony.” You greeted as you walked up to him with his arms ready to envelop you in a hug. “Y/n! How are you feeling? It’s quite hot here, isn’t it?” He commented, looking over at the busy pit lane.

“I’m feeling confident. Surprised there’s no ice cream station around.” You joked and he flashed a smile. “Oh, there is, in the paddock club. Made sure to check for you.” Anthony smiled and you could only flash a smile back. “Hey, don’t stress about it, Y/n. Everything will be okay, even if he doesn’t get it and that’s a very big if.” He assured and you took a breath in, not wanting to seem negative. “The Red Bull’s are the ones stressing me because they’re just everywhere but like you said, I shouldn’t stress. Now, would you like some ice cream?” You asked and he nodded. “Need a little pick me up. I’ll be here when you get back.” Anthony responded and walked back into the garage.

By the time you had arrived to the paddock, it had been quite full so it was clear that the paddock club would be as full with many different people from all around the world. You waved to whoever seemed to want your attention, stopping to take pictures with fans or sign autographs all while having your airpods in, a habit you gladly took from Lewis. You knew people would talk about you, what you’re wearing, what you say and being quiet, just like your husband, has helped you a ton in terms of not taking your words out of context. Did SkySports F1 always have close ups of you during races just to see your reaction to anything? Yes but you never engaged unless it was to a smile or a wink to the camera.

Entering the paddock club with two of your security personnel, your long blonde braids swiftly followed behind you and it caught the attention of many, especially a woman who never really liked you or your husband. “Oh my! Y/n! Hi!” The shrill voice behind you had exclaimed to you, hearing their heeled footsteps come close to you. “Kelly, hello.” You smiled but anyone around you could see that the smile never reached your eyes. “Just came over to see your hair and wow, what a statement!” She giggled and she reached her hand out and inched her hand closer and closer to your braids but you moved away as quickly as you could. “Always have something to say.” You muttered to yourself as you turned towards the makeshift ice cream parlour.

“Also wanted to say good luck for today with Red Bull and Mercedes being head to head, y’know? Speaking of your hair, I saw a couple of hair ties that reminded of the two of you-”

“Okay Kelly! Just…stop commenting on our hair, our jewellery or just anything that involves my husband and I.” You sighed out. The look on her face was of shock and disbelief that you would even dare to speak up to her. You flicked your braids behind you and grabbed the two cups of ice cream after paying. Walking out of there in a quick pace, you kept your face neutral and made your way to the Mercedes garage with no one bothering you.

Giving Anthony his ice cream up in a hurry, he observed your face and immediately directed you to where Lewis was, his drivers room. Knocking on his door, you heard a ‘come in’ and entered, seeing him seated with his race suit around his waist and his airpods in just like you. He faced you and his face lit up at the sight of you. “Hey, love. You look so beautiful.” He complimented you and you smiled but it didn’t quite reach your eyes once again. “Let me guess. Someone criticising your looks?” He guessed and you could only nod at him before crashing into his chest and him hugging you right back, feeling the warmth of him envelop you.

“It’s not even about that because people always have something to say. It’s a specific sloth’s girlfriend that’s pissing me off.” Lewis squeezed you within the hug. “Don’t call him that.” You could hear the laugh creeping up but he chose not to. “It’s not me, it’s the internet. She tried to touch my hair then said some shit about hair ties and you know I could beat a bitch up and then she was on some “good luck” type shit-”

“Y/n.” Lewis called out and held your face in your hands. “They want you to stoop down to their level then drag your name all over. Everything will be fine, especially today. As long as I have you and my family beside, I already feel like I have won.” He smiled and gave you a peck before looking into your eyes. “You’re so corny but so sweet, Sir.” You said, fluttering your eyelashes at him and he chuckled while looking to the side.

“You are a dangerous woman, Mrs Hamilton.”

The silence around the Mercedes garage was unsettling once the drivers got to the last two laps of the race. Lewis and Max were head to head with the Red Bull going suspiciously faster. You stood next to Toto and Anthony, tearing your eyes away from the screen to look at the person who’s eyes were piercing into you. There were multiple cameras around you so you couldn’t see clearly at whoever was staring at you. Looking back at the screen, all your hope poured out to Lewis, praying to whoever was listening that he should win.

Your heart seemed to stop at the very moment the world saw Verstappen cross the finish line and hearing the cheers of the Red Bull garage not too far from you. A few groans spewed out of a few engineers as they began to get ready for Lewis to come back after the podium celebration. It seemed as if the cameras came close to you as a single tear slipped out of your left eye, face stoic as ever. You blocked out everything that happened around you. Toto becoming angry, Anthony urging you to come with him to see Lewis, your phone continuously buzzing but all you could do was stare at the screen as you watched Lewis park the car and his helmet dropped down as you saw people cheering behind his car.

Your throat felt closed up and goosebumps run through your body. You felt nauseous but chose to keep it down, knowing you would not be able to even breathe when you see him. You walked out of the garage only to see other drivers coming out of their garages and Lando and Sebastian walking towards the Mercedes garage, mainly towards you.

“Seb..” You muttered out and you could see the pity coming from them but they were trying to make it not seem like they were pitying you. “I’ll talk to you guys later.” You uttered as you waved them off in shock, walking towards the podium celebrations where Lewis’ face was on the screen and you tried your level best to keep it in.

Eventually standing with Anthony at the entrance of the garage, there he was, walking towards the two of you. Lewis hugged his father first whilst giving him encouraging words and you see a few tears escape his eyes and that broke you. Your own tears started to fall and Lewis could hear you despite all the noise. He looked at you once and brought you to his chest for you to sob all your feelings out.

“I’m so sorry.” You cried and he just held you, your arms around his waist. “Everything will be fine, princess. I’ll be okay.” He said as he helped you calm down, rubbing your back. You lifted your head off his chest and looked up into his sad, beautiful eyes. “I love you so much. You’re a champion to me.” You tried to smile at him and he kissed your forehead.

“I love you so much more.” He said, not caring about the world seeing you console each other.

present day

Your sunglasses were perched on your nose as you leaned onto the railing of the Mercedes hospitality in Austria. The race was going terrible for the drivers who weren’t Max Verstappen. Penalties were being handed out left right and centre and it wasn’t a pleasant sight. An hour after the race, you watched how Lewis and Lando interacted in the media pen and how there was no bad blood between them.

“It always shocks me when you and Lewis still keep a positive energy around you even when it feels like the worlds against you.” You heard Susie’s voice as she walked up behind you. “As Selena Gomez said, you kill them with kindness. Us being positive makes people really mad on the internet but everything will work out soon.” You smiled to her as you took off your shades and put them in your handbag.

“And he will get his 8th World Championship title very soon, i can feel it.” You added with a wink which made Susie smile and you looked back at Lewis on the screen to see with a big smile as he bid goodbye to the interviewer.

#lewis hamilton #formula 1 #formula one x black reader #x black fem reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula one x reader #x black reader #f1 #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 imagines #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #saintslewis

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buckleyx · 2 years ago

Note

HI HEY HELLO i have a little blurb and i wanted to share!!(and it kinda pertains to a work event i had yesterday💀)

So you know how the first responder units have little events where they gather around a park or smth with their trucks, and parents bring their kids to look at them?? Well imagine evan buckley with that sjdbsjbd. He’s just having so much fun with the kids, lifting them up to see the cool parts of the firetruck, passing out little candies, talking the little ones through what they do every day, and you’re like “oml i cannot WAIT to have this mans children.” (Was literally me last night giggling about him)

OPEN HOUSE E.B

the gif i used is not mine! all credit goes to the owner!

Author’s note: This idea was honestly so cute!! I got so excited reading and writing it! Thank you so much for requesting love <33 Buck with kids always makes my heart jump vgcxgcc

Evan Buckley x gender!neutral reader

Warnings: FLOFFFF PURE FLUFF and unedited hehe

masterlist

Buck always loved the idea of an open house. Once a year opening the station to the public, talking about the stories you all shared on shifts, seeing kids bubble up with excitement as they see a firetruck. Buck loved it, he proudly called it his favorite day of the year.

You had been greeting people all morning, handing out some information flayers about the department while showing off the ambulance. A bright smile played on your lips as you saw your boyfriend standing next to the firetruck. He was explaining a story to the kids standing around him. You couldn't make out what he was saying but you rolled your eyes as you saw him mimic what looked like being electrocuted. (too soon?)

"I'm sorry?" A little boy interrupted your train of thought. He looked at you with big eye's, pointing his finger at your paramedic patch that was neatly sew on to your uniform. "Can I help you?" You asked softly, kneeling down Infront of him.

"I wanna be a firefighter." He said proudly.

"Really? That's cool! What's your name?"

"Robin!" He eagerly exclaimed.

"Well Robin, do you wanna see a firetruck?" Robin nodded his head with excitement. You got back up, fixed your uniform and offered the boy your hand. He gladly accepted, walking with you over to Buck who had just waved goobye to the kids he was talking to.

"Hello Buck." You greeted. "Robin here wants to be a firefighter."

Buck let out an exciting gasp, mimicking the smile that was plastered on the young boy's face. "Hii Robin! Do you wanna see a real firetruck up close?"

Robin held out his hands, silently asking for Buck to hold him. Buck grabbed Robin on his arm and immediately went to explaining all the different functions of the truck. The boy leaned on his side, carefully listing to everything Buck had to say.

Buck was a natural when it came to kids. You saw it with Christopher and Jee-Yun. And honestly you couldn't wait to have some of your own. Buck had mentioned it once or twice that he saw you both as parents and honestly you couldn't agree more. Especially after today.

You watched in awe as Buck helped Robin in the firetruck. He mimicked the sound of a siren, making you and Robin giggle loudly.

"There you are!" Two young mothers made their way over to the truck. Waving at their son in Buck's arms.

"He's a natural." One of the mom's complimented. "I haven't seen our son so quiet and focused in a long time."

"Yeah he is." You smiled, admiring your boyfriend. He really is.

My requests are open! :)

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Let me know if you want to be added for future work!

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fluentmoviequoter · 9 months ago

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hey I was wondering if you can do a Tim Bradford x reader where Tim and Isabel were working together and the reader saw them laughing together and she turned around asking someone who that was and she knows all about Isabel but scared that Tim would leave her to be with Isabel and she said overthinking because she just found out she was pregnant and scared Tim would leave

Thanks for the request! I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think! :)

Warnings: pregnant!wife!reader, angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, Angela (yes, she gets a warning because she is amazing (and threatens to kill for you)). 2.0k+ words

Don't Leave Me for Her

Tim looks happy. You stand by your car, leaning against the hood as you watch him.

“Hey,” Angela calls, walking to your side. “I didn’t know you were coming by.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” you answer, not looking away from Tim. “Who is that?”

Angela follows your line of sight, frowning when she sees what’s keeping your attention.

“Uh, that’s Isabel,” she answers quietly. “They’re working a case together. She had some intel that narcotics found really useful.”

Tim doesn’t work in narcotics, you think. So why is he standing with his ex-wife?

You take a deep breath, your hand resting against your stomach as you pick at your shirt. Tim starts laughing, leaning toward Isabel as she smiles at him. Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you begin overthinking. Tim looks happy, happier than he ever has with me.

“C’mon,” Angela murmurs, wrapping her hand around your forearm as she leads you toward the door. “I need someone to keep me company.”

Nodding, you follow her, watching Tim until you can’t see him anymore. Your thoughts quickly turn to a fear that Tim will leave you to return to Isabel.

“Alright, spill,” Angela says, pushing you toward her chair.

You shake your head, looking down as you tug at your shirt again. “Just weird seeing them together, I guess.”

“Tim loves you,” Angela assures you. “He’s just working.”

“Doesn’t laugh like that with you, does he?”

Angela doesn’t answer, looking past you as Tim enters the station. He finds you immediately, walking toward you, oblivious to Angela glaring at him.

“Hey,” Tim greets, smiling at you. “What are you doing here?”

Seeing something I’m probably not supposed to. “I was passing by and thought I’d say hi. Hi,” you reply.

Tim’s brows furrow, glancing over at Angela quickly.

“But, I should probably get going, I know you’re all busy,” you add, standing and straightening your shirt.

“Um, okay,” Tim says, noticing how you avoid stepping too close to him. “I’ll see you tonight?”

You nod, though you don’t look sure of yourself. When Angela nods, you tilt your head toward your shoulder and take a deep breath. Tim can read your expressions well, but he hasn’t cracked the code of wordless ‘girl-speak’ yet.

“Are you okay?” he whispers as you turn back toward him.

“Yeah, just tired. I’ll see you tonight.”

While you quickly kiss his cheek, your thoughts begin to swim again. If Isabel had kissed him, he probably would have responded differently; when you do it, he stands there and accepts your affection, nothing more than a hand holding your hip to steady you. Angela would not be happy to know what you’re thinking, but the moment you get in your car, you fall into a spiral of heartbreaking thoughts, and in every scenario you imagine, you end up alone while Tim laughs with Isabel.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim calls you nearly a dozen times before you turn your phone off. Sitting in your quiet bedroom, you look at a framed picture of you and Tim. You’re smiling at the camera while Tim’s focus is on you. You saw how he looked at Isabel today, completely different. His smile, laugh, eyes, it's all different with her.

You know that first loves are different, everyone does, yet you let the fact that Tim never talks about Isabel anymore lead you to believe he was wholly in love with you.

You let your guard down. His sweet smile and kisses distracted you, and you never noticed how easy it would be for him to choose her.

A few tears roll over your cheeks, and you set the picture to the side, moving your hands to cover your stomach instead.

The front door closes, and you rush to wipe your face dry, pulling your shirt away from your skin before Tim steps into the bedroom.

“Hey, I’ve been calling,” he breathes, walking toward you. “What’s going on?”

“I guess my phone died,” you lie. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I just got a little worried.” He kneels beside the bed and looks at you. Not like he looked at Isabel, though. “Have you been crying?”

“I- uh- I saw one of those animal shelter commercials with the sad dogs.”

Tim chuckles, his lips quirking up into a smile as he hugs you. “You’re sure you’re okay, though? Nothing bothering you?”

“No. I’m okay,” you reply, turning in Tim's hold because it may be the last time.

“I was thinking that we should go out on Friday. I get off a little earlier, so we could go out for dinner and drinks if you want.”

“Dinner sounds good.”

“Lopez wanted to do a double date, but that always ends with me listening to Wesley while she steals your attention,” Tim adds, moving his hand over your shoulder.

Like Isabel steals yours? The thought is unwelcome and brings more tears to your eyes; you’re emotional and tired and growing more heartbroken each moment.

“Hey, isn’t there a game on tonight?” you ask, hoping Tim is as easily distracted by sports as by Isabel.

“I don’t think so. Trying to get rid of me?”

The opposite, but it feels like a losing battle.

✯✯✯✯✯

You call in sick to work the next day. It’s not a complete lie, though the truth is that you’re making yourself sick by overthinking, worrying, and constantly fighting tears. Tim left early this morning for work, and every time you think of him, you see him laughing with Isabel, then realize that she makes him happier than you do.

If this had happened a year ago, you would have talked to Tim about it. But now, there is much more at stake, and losing him would be the same as losing a part of yourself.

You need to talk to someone, and only one person understands the depth of your emotion because she knows at least half of your situation. After dialing Angela’s number, you cancel the call and decide to visit her in person. For the first time, you hope that you don’t run into Tim at the station.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Ange?” you ask, walking to her desk.

Angela looks up from a folder, her eyes widening when she sees you. You’re sure your face is red and teary, and your fiddling fingers are concerning, but you’re concerned, too.

“Can we talk?” you ask.

“Of course. Come with me.”

She leads you to an empty office, and you lean against the desk as she closes the door.

“What’s going on? Are you okay? If Tim did something, I will kill him and they’ll never be able to prove it,” she rambles.

You chuckle sadly before promising, “I’m okay. Mostly.”

Angela nods, moving to sit beside you as she takes one of your hands. “Is this about Isabel and Tim working together?”

You nod, and she squeezes your hand.

“Not just that, though,” you whisper.

“He really does love you; I didn’t just say that to make you feel better.”

“I know he does, but…”

“You think he still loves her, don’t you?”

“I don’t see how he couldn’t,” you argue, sniffing as a tear rolls over your cheek.

“What else is going on?” Angela asks.

You move your hand toward your stomach, and she gasps, grabbing your other forearm as she stands.

“Really?” she asks excitedly.

The door opens, and Tim stops when he sees you, his eyes fixed on you as his hands flex at his sides.

“Really what?” he asks.

“I think you two should talk,” Angela says softly.

You shake your head, and she whispers, “Trust me. You need to tell him all of it.”

She walks past Tim, pulling the door closed behind her. Tim stands in front of you, setting his hand on your hip and rubbing it gently.

“Tell me all of what?” he asks. “You know you can talk to me about everything.”

Nodding, you try to believe him.

“I just- I’ve been thinking about us,” you begin. “Are we okay?”

“Yeah, we’re great. Aren’t we?”

You shrug, chewing on your inner cheek as more tears gather at your waterline.

“We’re not, are we?” Tim asks softly, gently wiping your tears away. “What’s going on?”

Someone knocks, and you lean back from Tim, but he follows your movement.

“Tim?” Isabel asks from outside. “Are you in there?”

Tim ducks his head to meet your eyes, but you push his hand off your hip and point to the door.

He sighs and pulls it open, asking, “What?”

Isabel’s brows raise at his tone, and you watch them, though you can’t see much besides Tim’s back.

“We got another tip, the drug buy is going down in thirty minutes,” she explains.

“Then tell narcotics, I’m in the middle of something.”

“What’s more important than this?”

“My wife,” Tim snaps, closing the door and turning toward you again.

“Do you still love her?” you whisper, looking up at him.

Tim freezes, staring at you as he repeats the question to himself. He realizes how this must look to you, though your reaction seems too intense for this to be the only problem.

“No. I love you,” Tim promises, taking your hands. “I loved Isabel once, but you are everything to me.”

“I saw you laughing with her yesterday.”

“She-“

“You seemed happy, and I want you to be happy, but I also don’t want you to leave me. I want to make you happy.”

Tim releases your hand, placing his hand under your chin to tilt your face toward his.

“Hey, look at me,” Tim demands, though his voice and touch are softer than usual. “I am never leaving you. You make me happier than anyone else in the world. Happier than I was with Isabel, even though there is no comparison between you. I’m sorry that I made you feel this way.”

“I was just overthinking it,” you mumble, looking at his collar rather than his face. “I didn’t want to do it alone if you left me.”

“Do what alone?”

Licking your lips, you look back at his eyes to say, “I’m pregnant.”

Tim’s smile grows slowly, and you can’t help but laugh when his hands move to your stomach.

“You’re pregnant?” he repeats reverently.

“Yes, I am. You’re going to be a dad, Sergeant Bradford.”

Tim bends to kiss you, one hand remaining on your barely-there baby bump as the other cups the back of your neck.

“That’s why you’ve been messing with your shirt so much, and why you didn't want to go out for drinks,” Tim realizes quietly.

“You noticed that?”

“I notice everything about you. Just like I knew you weren’t okay yesterday and this morning, I just didn’t want to push you.”

You smile at Tim, wishing you had remembered how amazing he is and chosen to talk to him rather than overthink and grow scared of him leaving you. Someone knocks on the door and Tim groans.

“I know you’re in there,” Angela calls. “Open up.”

Tim shakes his head as he opens the door. You smile and nod at Angela, and she claps her hands together in front of her chest before hugging you.

“We’re having a baby!” Angela cheers.

“Uh, no, we are having a baby,” Tim corrects, pointing between himself and you.

“You made her cry, Timothy.”

“I apologized.”

Angela looks at you with narrowed eyes, and you nod.

“Then shared custody it is,” Angela decides.

“Do I get the baby at some point?” you ask.

“You have it for nine months,” Tim argues. “I get it after.”

“What makes you more worthy than me?” Angela asks.

“It has my DNA, Lopez.”

“Tim?” Isabel asks, approaching the open door. “Are you sure you don’t want in on this?”

“Yeah, I’m busy, but thanks for helping,” he answers. After Isabel walks away, Tim looks at you. “She made me laugh by telling me that whatever had changed since she went to rehab was good for me. That was you.”

“Wow,” Angela drawls. “Tell the love of your life, the pregnant love of your life, that you were laughing at her. That’s not a good way to get custody.”

You laugh, leaning against Tim as he pulls you close. He truly is the love of your life, and no matter how much you overthink, you know deep down that he’s yours forever.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford x you #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie #requests #fem!reader #tw pregnancy

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lainiespicewrites · 9 months ago

Text

Electric summer Ch. 2

Here is chapter 2! I love everything about this story so far it’s so fun to write and I adore writing Sy! It was so weird I was modeling this after my time at camp and I literally got a brochure from them in the mail today😂 maybe the universe is telling me something 👀

Anyway enjoy! Comments, likes and weblogs are encouraged!

Summary: Sy and ofc are united as camp co-counselors and spend the day catching up and reminiscing!

Warnings:none? Just cursing a lil

Link for Pt 1 if you missed it 🥰

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I blinked a few times in disbelief. “How, I-I…aren’t you…” I stammered trying to string a sentence together, still lost in the puzzle my brain was trying to work out. How was he standing here in front of me right now?

“Come here,” He laughed. Throwing his arm around my shoulder and pulling me into a tight hug. I was still for a moment still in shock about the situation but I pulled myself out of it and hugged him back squeezing just as tight.

“I can’t believe it,” He chuckled. “This had to be Rebecca’s doing.” He said.She was an old counselor of ours. She was with us our last summer together.She also happened to be camp director now and in charge of assigning cabin groups. This was surely not a coincidence. Sy’s arms were still around me. Admittedly I wasn’t ready to pull away just yet either. I was afraid he’d disappear and this would all be a dream. My mind was playing tricks on me or something.

“How are you here?” I finally strung the question together, pulling back to look up at him. Did he get taller? I could have shrunk but I swear he got taller. “I mean aren’t you in the military?” I asked, obviously confused.

“Take a walk with me?” he asked. “I’ve been dying to see this place again.” He added. I nodded and we finally let go of each other. It may have been years since we’d seen each other but I could still read him. Logan was social. He loved to talk, he was extremely expressive and attentive. Right now he’s quiet. And pensive. When we walked away from the cabin he shoved both hands in his pockets staring straight ahead. Whatever had happened it was difficult for him. Like the night on the lake in the canoe. When he told me he wouldn’t be coming back to camp. It’s why he wouldn’t look at me. He knew or was afraid that after all this time I could tell when something was hard for him.

He hated coming off as weak. It’s why he was so competitive. When the boys played ultimate frisbee his team always won. In high school when he played football he was the quarterback. He had to be the best. The strongest. The leader. But not with me. He told me that once. He told me even before our summer fling, back when all we were was best friends excited to spend the summer together. That’s why he liked me so much. He could let his guard down with me. I didn’t understand it then. But eventually I figured out exactly what he meant. And I saw it in him now. Even when we’d only been reunited for minutes.

We walked from my cabin and through the park out to an open field outside the woods. There was a path that ran alongside it. If you took it left it would take you to the lake down to the dock to swim, if you followed it further you crossed a bridge and you could go sailing or take out a kayak or a canoe. If you took the path right it was a hiking trail. It had its own forks in the road one leading to a nature preserve and a small shelter where the camp housed some exotic reptiles and other animals. And one that led to a ropes course and a rock climbing station. We didn’t take either path. Sy stopped walking and stared off at the trees. I came up next to him and gently put my hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to tell me, we don’t have to talk about it, whatever it is. I’m just really glad you’re here.” I spoke softly. I felt his hand over mine on his shoulder and he turned to me with a sad smile. He let out a deep breath before he spoke

“I’m retired from the military. Uh, discharged. Medically.” He stared at the grass when he spoke. I could hear the shame in his voice. It broke my heart. I slid my hand off his shoulder and over his back soothingly. I didn’t say anything. He knew I was listening. “Last April, I was leading the boys into a raid. We’d been waiting on this for weeks. Trying to find these guys. Somehow they got tipped off that we were comin’ and they were ready. One of my boys was being attacked. Enemy came out of nowhere. I jumped to cover him. Told him to run up stairs with the rest of the guys to secure the building. He was alright. His chest plate protected him. But I got shot in the leg with 2 bullets. I managed to stop the attacker. But I had to be carried out of there. They sent a Med-line, it's a helicopter.” He explained. I nodded and let him keep talking.

“I was in surgery that night. They almost thought I was gonna have to lose it. But the Dr was able to get the bullets out. They uh, didn’t think I’d walk right again. So.. I was discharged from the military not long after. They transferred me to a civilian hospital for physical therapy…” He trailed off.

“How is it now?” I asked softly. He finally looked up from the grass. My voice pulled him back to reality.

“I ain’t gonna be runnin’ in the Olympics anytime soon but. Normal. Aches sometimes when the weather gets weird or cold. Probably coulda went back but no one knew how long it would take. Or if…if I’d ever get better.” He said.

“They should’ve known,” I said, “nothing stops Logan Syverson when he’s got his mind made up.” There it was. That genuine smile I’d missed all these years.

“Guess they don’t know me like you do,” He chuckled. “Enough about me, it’s been 7 years darlin what have I missed?” he asked, his hand hovering over my lower back guiding me toward the left path. We started to walk again toward the lake.

“I wish I could say you missed a lot but,” I shrugged. “I graduated. Went to school and graduated again, and at the end of this summer I’ll finally start my first job with the schools.” I explained flatly. It was nothing compared to the things he’d done and what he’d seen.

“Hey, graduating college is a big deal. I’m proud of you! Child Psychology, right?” He asked. I stopped walking and just stared.

“You, remember that?” I questioned. He laughed and threw his arm around my shoulder pulling me into his side.

“Of course I do. It was all you talked about our last summer together. You were nervous about getting into the school you wanted. I admired that because you were only a junior. I was going into my senior year and I’d never even thought about that shit.”

“But you knew you were going into the military, you didn’t have to think about that.” I argued.

“Maybe, but you were so smart, you are so smart, you had it all figured out. I was just following what everyone else in my family did. Now that I’m out, I kinda wish I’d had some other plan. Something I knew I wanted to do to fall back on.” I nodded. I understood what he meant. It must be hard for him now. The things he’d aspired to be in his adolescence had come and passed. He had to reinvent himself now. Start over. I couldn’t imagine how scary that must feel.

“You’re smart too Logan. You’re quick in a crisis. You’re logical and level headed. You’re great with people. And and from what you’ve said you’re an incredible leader. I have no doubt you’ll figure it all out soon.” We had wandered some more, now we were walking along the lake. Or what we knew as the beach. When they’d built the camp they carved out the shore and laid down sand. Leaving it more like mini beach than a country lake. I followed Logan out onto the dock. He turned to me and smiled.

“I think coming back here this summer was exactly what I needed.” He said. I smiled back giving his arm a gentle squeeze… and trying not to dwell on the fact that his muscles had gotten incredibly larger.

“It’s funny,” I answered. “I always remember it being the other way around, you giving me pep talks and encouraging me to take risks.” He chuckle the air between us becoming lighter as I watched his smile form into a playful smirk.

“That’s because you were always trying to chicken out. You were a little scaredy cat.” He laughed. I pouted. And smacked him in the arm. “Ow,” he teased as he fake soothed his arm.

“I was not!” I argued. He shook his head.

“You were too!” He challenged. I rolled my eyes resting my hands on my hips.

“Name one time,” I groaned. He eyed me with that same smirk on his face with an eyebrow raised looking at me curiously.

“You really wanna do this? He teased. “Alright, you did this to yourself, night hikes.” He stated. I frowned.

“Oh that is so not fair!” I objected. “You know I hate the dark. That doesn’t count!” I argued.

“Mhmm, rock climbing.” he deadpanned. I scoffed.

“I suck at climbing I have like no upper-body strength I wasn’t gonna embarrass myself infront of everyone.” I defended. He shook his head again trying to hold back a laugh.

“You’d never done it before. You had no idea if you were bad at it or not!”

“Okay, well… it was really high.” I pouted.

“My point exactly,” He chuckled.

“That means nothing!” I said. He groaned pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You wouldn’t even jump off the dock into the water that first summer! Because the water was deeper. You knew how to swim.” His shoulders were shaking with laughter. “You remember how I got you to do it?” He asked.

“Yeah you literally picked me up threw me in off the dock! I wound’t call that being “kind and encouraging.” I laughed emphasizing the last bit.

“It worked,” He smirked.

“It was traumatizing.” I countered.

“ I caught you blushing when I grabbed you, I think you liked it.” He winked. I glared at him crossing my arms.

“You have no proof,” I scoffed. He smirked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“You wanna test that theory?” He raised an eyebrow taking a step closer to me. My eyes went wide and I started to back up slowly.

“Logan,” I said softly. He looked me over that cocky grin plastered on his face.

“I’d start runnin’ if I was you.” He challenged. I backed up a little more, holding my hands up in defends.

“You don’t have to do this.” I reasoned with him. He let out a low chuckle.

“I think we both know I do.” He said. “Last chance darlin’” He teased. I turned on my heal quickly back toward the beach. Only getting in a few long strides before he had his arm around my waist. Damn his long legs. It doesn’t help that mine are so short either. I squealed as he lifted me off the ground in his arms.

“No! Logan please!”

“I warned ya, told you to start running sooner.” His voice was deep in my ear as he carried me to the end of the dock and I wrapped my arms around his neck for some sort of safety net. “Would you look at that.” He smirked, looking down at me in his arms. Bastard. Of course he was right. After all this time he still had the same effect on me.

“Oh shut up!” I rolled my eyes. Which was a bold move for someone in my current position.

“You’re blushin’, after all this time, I still get your heart racing.” He rasped.

“My face is red because I was running, and it’s ..it’s warm out here.” I argued.

“You took 3 steps, you weren’t running,” He smirked. “You’re just too stubborn to admit you still feel it.” He whispered against my ear. I felt hot. And it had nothing to do with the sun glaring down on us on the pier. It had been 7 years. Did we even know each other anymore? And…he ..he left. That hurt so bad. What if he leaves again. I don’t think I could handle losing him a second time. We’re in totally different parts of our lives than we were then. But at the same time… “Answer one thing for me, all this time, did you see anybody else? Let anyone else in? I don’t see a ring on your finger.” He raised an eyebrow looking down at me intently. I swallowed hard and swatted at his chest.

“Put me down Sy!” I whined. He jostled me in his arms threatening to drop me in the water.

“You want down?” He smirked. I squealed, wrapping my arms tighter around his neck.

“Logan, Don’t!” I chided. He chuckled, adjusting his grip under my thighs. He leaned in close. I could feel his breath against my ear, his beard tickling my skin.

“Tell me, I just wanna hear it. Did you wait for me?” He sounded like honey. The way his voice hummed in my ear. He always did. It had been so long since we’d stood this close, or been this close and I could feel myself still magnetized to him. It’s like he lit up every sense in my body. I had no choice but to follow his warmth and his chaos and his light. I never felt anything like it with anyone else.

“ Sy you know, I …” Before I could answer him he leaned forward and tossed me into the water. I screamed and heard him chuckle before I hit the water. It was still a little cold since summer had only just started. As I started to come back up to the surface I heard a huge splash a few feet away from me. Logan jumped off the dock with me. When he surfaced he swam closer and I splashed him. “You’re such an ass!” I rolled my eyes. He laughed, swimming toward the shore.

“I had to distract you. You thought I wasn’t gonna do it,” He smirked.

“Yeah I thought maybe you were like a decent guy now or something!” I scoffed.

“Aww come on honey, don’t be mad at me, you know it’s not really summer till we take our first swim.”

“Yeah I know,” I smiled.

We left the lake, soaking wet and headed back to our cabins to dry off. I couldn’t get what he’d said out of my head. I knew it was killing him to know. Why did he stop me? After drying off and changing into some dry clothes I hung my wet clothes and towel out on our cabin's little clothing line. I dug through my bag to find a new pair of shoes, because those were soaked too, and headed over to Logan’s cabin where he was waiting at the picnic table. I walked over and hopped up sitting on the table top. Something I’d made a habit of during my years at camp. And it followed me everywhere. I sit on my countertop all the time. He looked up from where he’d been writing in a notebook on the table and smiled.

“Feel better?” he asked.

“Now that my feet aren’t in squishy wet sneakers? Yeah much better, no thanks to you.” I laughed.

“Did you have fun?” He raised an eyebrow. I groaned.

“Yeah,” I muttered. He had a proud grin on his face.

“Well then you’re welcome.” He mused. I rolled my eyes and flickered my gaze down to his notebook.

“Whatcha working on?” I asked curiously. He leaned back looking down at the list one hand smoothing over his beard.

“Trying to remember all of the camp traditions. The games we played. Ice breakers things like that. Trying to set up a bit of a plan or a loose schedule before the kids get here tomorrow. I don’t know if the boys' cabins still do their prank war, but I’m bringing it back.” He said seriously.

“Ah yes, the infamous prank war, you were ruthless. But your cabin always came out victorious.” I giggled. His eyes met mine and he just smiled holding my gaze for a moment. I shook myself out of it before I could let him in too deep. “What else you got?” I prodded. He sighed. And his eyes went back to the paper in front of him, trying to hide the disappointment on his face.

“Uh, Just some of the group games we used to play, Red rover, capture the flag, the coed softball game. Shit like that.But I just wanna make sure we get everyone comfortable when they get here ya know? I always felt…”

“Safe? When we were here. Me too.” I nodded.

“Just wanna be sure everyone’s having a good time like we did. Whatever problems we were having back home, in our family, or friends, kids that were dealing with bullies, we left it behind. We didn’t tolerate anyone being left out. Just want that for our campers.” He said.

“You’re really passionate about this.” I added.

“Aren’t you, I mean, you loved this place as much as I did, … do.” He added. I nodded.

“Of course I am. I’m just really glad that you are too. I’m glad that my co-counselor is someone who loves and appreciates this place and the kids as much as I do!” I smiled. “I’ve got this book of icebreaker games. We can go through it after our counselor meeting. Find the ones we think are best fit.” I smiled. He nodded.

“Sounds great.”

Later that night after our meeting introducing and welcoming us all to camp and going over our rules and shifts, and after dinner we met in my cabin. We sat outside on the patio at the picnic table. We started flipping through the book and talking about each of the games. Some we had done when we were campers.

“Oh, here's a good one.” I said pointing to one of the pages. “Remember doing this one, ‘two truths and a lie’ we always had a lot of fun with that.

“I do! It was like being a cop trying to read a lie detector test. And trying to beat one. “He chuckled.

“You were good at it!” I laughed. “Like try me,” I nodded to him. He smiled, and cocked his head to the side thinking for a moment.

“Alright, I blew a tire going 90 down the highway last week. I shot my first gun when I was 10, or my brother broke my arm in a fist fight.”

“Jesus!” I laughed. “From the stories you told me about your brothers I wouldn’t doubt it. I know you like to drive fast but you take good care of your truck…I’m gonna say it’s the gun.” He shook his head.

“Nope, I broke his arm.” My eyes went wide and I tried to hold back my laughter.

“Your poor mother.” I giggled.

“She got used to it.” He smiled. “Your turn, see if you can fool me.” He said. I groaned. I never could trick him. He always knew. But maybe I could use this as an opportunity to answer his question back at the lake.

“Okay,” I nodded, “Uh, I have a short story published in a book. I..I’m still a virgin. I lost my phone on a cruise to Jamaica,” He looked at me quizzically, his bottom. Lip pulled between his teeth as his gears turned.

“There’s no way,” he finally spoke. “You’re not still a virgin. No way.” He added. I shook my head. My eyes met his.

“I’ve never been to Jamaica,” I said softly. He let out a shaky laugh.

“In seven years nobody.. Nobody’s tried?” He questioned.

“They’ve tried.” I said. “I tried.” I added. “I wanted to be over you. I tried to be mad at you, for leaving me. But I knew that was selfish. You didn’t leave me. Certainly not because you wanted to. You were fighting for me. For everyone you loved. I couldn’t be mad at you for that.” I admitted.

“I never intended to hurt you so bad. It hurt like hell leaving that summer.” He said.

“I know you didn’t,” I said. “When I went to college I tried so hard to put myself out there and meet other people, I went to a few parties. I made out on trashy frat couches. It was awful. I did go on a couple of dates. I convinced myself I had to. I was sure you’d moved on, found someone new. I liked them okay but it was nothing special. They weren’t… you.” I said. He nodded soaking in all the information I’d just given him.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me. To know that you were still thinking of me as much as I was thinking of you. I have to be honest with you. I slept around in high school. When we broke things off that summer I was just trying to shake it. I hate to say it but, I barely remember their names. But you’re wrong about one thing. I never found anyone, never had one serious relationship after that last summer. You said it darlin, they weren’t you.” He rested his hand on my knee softly caressing my skin with his thumb. I never thought. I’d be here again. At camp. With him. In this position all over again. I think somehow we were getting a second chance. I’m not sure I’m ready for that. But I’m willing to see what the universe has put right in front of me.

“Sy, all I wanted back then was to be with you. To kiss you. For you to be my first. I don’t know if I’m still the girl you knew then. If you still want this after all this time. I don’t know what I want, I’ve spent so much time trying to forget you and what this felt like I don’t know if I know how to do this anymore.” He saw the panic in my eyes. And his face softened. He reached up tucking my hair behind my ear his fingers resting on the back of my head, gently massaging with his fingertips.

“This is a lot, I know, it’s a lot for me too. What I want is the woman you are now. For us to learn how to be now. If it aint the same spark then maybe it’s not meant to be. But i’m not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth and let you go again. Not without saying we tried to give this a shot.” He said his eyes boring into mine My heart felt like it was overflowing with emotion. I nodded. It was all I could do. “There is one thing, we never got to do that summer that I can’t get out of my head.” He whispered.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“I never got to kiss you,” He stated almost breathless like it was a secret we’d been keeping for years. And a weight had now lifted off his shoulders.

“We never did, did we?” I blushed. He shook his head a gentle smile on his lips.

“It’s all can think about since I saw you again. That, and how you’re somehow even more beautiful.”

“Logan,” I blushed playfully shoving him.

“It’s true.” He said. I smiled.

“Well, are you gonna make a move or am I gonna have to make it for you?” Logan chuckled grabbing my waist to pull me closer and cupping my cheek. He leaned in his hot breath against my lips and…

“Hey you two!” Becca called from across the lawn. We jumped apart quickly. I could hear Logan groan no matter how hard he tried to hide it. “I just wanted to check in with you!” she said as she approached the cabin, “You settling in okay? Nervous about the kiddos or anything?” she asked. I shook my head.

“I’m a little nervous, not like I did much babysittin or anything,” Sy admitted. “But I’ve had plenty of practice with my brothers little rascals.” He laughed.

“Great!” She said. “Don’t be nervous, I’m so glad to have you guys back here, you’re our only counselrs this year that are camp alumni, and I always love having people that know the place well.” she smiled.

“It’s good to be back Becca! I never thought I’d see this place again!” I added.

“You know you’re always welcome!” She smiled. “Well I’ll leave you guys too it then, I’m so happy to see you two hear together again,” She winked. “Good night you two.”

“Well, she’s got impeccable timing.” Sy groaned. I giggled and squeezed his shoulder softly.

“This summers just getting started Sy,” I smiled. “I uh, better get some sleep, I was gonna get up early to decorate my cabin for the girls.” I said quickly. He nodded trying to hide his disappointment.

“Okay darlin’, I’ll see ya breakfast?” He asked. I nodded and turning and opening the door to my cabin

“I’ll see you then, goodnight Sy.”

“Goodnight Lainie,”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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