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storiesforallfandoms · 8 months ago

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important business ~ roman godfrey;hemlock grove

word count: 2362

request?: no

description: she goes to visit him at work, and he decides her visit requires his undivided attention

pairing: roman godfrey x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n, smut (unprotected p in v, oral f receiving, finger fucking, kind of voyeurism?, praise, multiple orgasms)

masterlist (one, two, three)

The sound of stilettos against the tile floors made Roman’s secretary’s ears perk up. There was only one woman who ever came to the Godfrey Institute.

(Y/N) Godfrey was already smiling as she came around the corner. It would look like a friendly smile to anyone else, it’d be friendly to the Institute employees even, if she wasn’t married to the owner of the company. (Y/N) was nice enough, but she had an intimidation to her as well. And Roman loved her so much that he would fire anyone who so much as upset her even a little.

(Y/N) leaned against the desk. “Hey Anne. Is Roman in? I got a text from him asking me to come by the office.”

“He’s in his office on a phone call,” the secretary, Anne, responded. “I can page him to let him know you’re here.”

“No bother. I’ll see myself in.”

Anyone else would be stopped immediately. No one else was allowed to interrupt Roman under any circumstances. But Anne already knew how this was gonna go. Asking to page Roman was only a formality at this point; a rouse of professionalism on both of their parts.

(Y/N) let herself into Roman’s office. He was sat forward, leaning against his desk with the phone in one hand, pressed against his ear. He glanced up as (Y/N) shut the door behind her. His face gave nothing away, but she knew it was his eyes to look at. They lit up the moment she walked into the room.

“Let me call you back, Paul,” Roman said into the phone. “My wife just got here.”

He hung up before hearing the response. (Y/N) raised a playful eyebrow. “I don’t think he’s going to appreciate you cutting him off like that.”

Roman waved away her comment. “Paul is an idiot who doesn’t know jack shit. Listening to him talk makes my brain melt, so I’ll take whatever excuse there is to not talk to him.”

“So, is that why you texted me? To be an excuse?”

“Of course not.”

Roman extended his arms, gesturing for (Y/N) to come closer. She smiled and crossed the room to him. He turned his desk chair to face (Y/N) as she moved around his desk. Roman wasted no time in pulling her onto his lap, moving her legs to straddle him. She was wearing a deep red dress that was knee length and tight to her body. It rode up her thighs as she sat on Roman’s lap, giving him access to cup her ass cheeks.

Roman’s lips found their way to her neck. Her eyes fluttered at the feeling of his soft lips kissing every inch of her neck. He found her sweet spot at the base of her neck, and began to suck at the sensitive skin. (Y/N) let out a moan. She quickly covered her mouth and pushed away from Roman as she remembered herself.

“Rom, we can’t!” she said. “We’re in your office. What if someone walks in?”

“Fuck ‘em. It’s my company. If they have an issue with me fucking my wife, they can start looking for a new job.”

(Y/N) wanted to be firm. It was definitely a bad idea to have sex in Roman’s office, in a building full of his employees who could walk in at any second. But also, it was incredibly hot to see how nonchalant he was being about wanting to fuck her in his office, as well as the general idea of fucking Roman in his office, was turning her on.

He picked her up suddenly, causing her to exclaim in surprise. He kicked the chair away from the desk and shoved anything in his way onto the floor. He placed (Y/N) onto the desk, shoving her dress up so it was bunched around her hips, completely exposing her lower half to him.

(Y/N) and Roman held eye contact as Roman lowered himself to his knees. She watched as he reached out to the intercom that had managed to stay on his desk. He clicked the speaker button and said, “Anne, cancel whatever I have scheduled for the next hour. Anyone comes looking form, I’m busy.”

Anne’s response came almost immediately, “Yes, Mr. Godfrey.”

“She definitely knows what’s happening now,” (Y/N) said.

“I’ll give her a big fat bonus for Christmas.”

Roman hooked a finger into her panties and pulled them to the side. She shivered as his hot breath hit her core. She was about to tell him not to tease her, but it seemed Roman didn’t intend on leaving her waiting for long. He dove into her like a starved man. His tongue immediately dove into her already wet pussy, darting in and out at a pace that was driving her crazy already. (Y/N) gripped Roman’s hair, still a little slick from the hair gel he had put in that morning.

He ran his tongue from her hole up to her clit. He wrapped his lips around the sensitive nub and began to slowly swirl his tongue around it. (Y/N)’s back arched in pleasure. She was biting her lip to try and stifle her moans. She nearly whimpered when he pulled away.

“Don’t you dare muffle those noises,” he told her. “I want the entire building to hear how good I make you feel.”

As if to punctuate his demand, he slipped a finger into her. (Y/N) gasped at the feeling. Roman smirked, satisfied with the noise. He went back to wrapping his lips around her clit while he fucked his finger in and out of her. It was nearly impossible to muffle herself now. To really make sure he got his request, Roman added a second finger and curled them to touch the spongey spot inside (Y/N).

She threw her head back and cried out Roman’s name so loud he was sure the entire floor could hear her. He smirked against her.

The lewd squishing sounds of Roman finger fucking her mixed with her moans filled the room. All of (Y/N)’s concerns about being heard or caught had disappeared completely. All she could think about was Roman; Roman’s tongue on her clit, Roman’s fingers inside of her, how badly she wanted to feel Roman’s dick stretching her out and fucking her ruthlessly.

“Roman,” she moaned. Her fingers curled tighter against his hair, grabbing at the roots and tugging harshly against his dark locks. Roman moaned into her at the feeling. “F-Fuck, I feel so close already.”

“Cum on my fingers then, baby,” he said. “That’s a good girl, let yourself go.”

Her orgasm ripped through her suddenly. She writhed against Roman’s lips, moaning and panting, Roman’s name slipping from her lips. He lapped at her, letting her ride out her high against his face.

When Roman pulled his fingers from her, she actually whimpered at the loss of contact. He stood from the floor, standing over her. He kept eye contact with her as he brought his two fingers to his mouth and sucked them between his lips. The dull ache of post-orgasm between her legs turned into an ache of desire as she watched him suck his fingers clean of her juices. His mouth and chin were still glistening with her.

He pulled her in for a kiss, and she could even taste herself on his lips. It was taking everything in her power not to rip Roman’s pants off right then and there.

As if reading her mind, Roman pulled away and started to unbuckle his belt. “Turn around and bend over the desk. Take your panties off, too, but leave the dress on.”

(Y/N) quickly did as he demanded. She slid her soaked panties down her legs and tossed them aside onto the office floor. She turned so her back was to Roman and bent herself over his desk, presenting herself to him. She heard the rustling of clothes as he undid his pants and pulled them down. Her heart was pounding with anticipation. She jumped when she felt one of his hands against her hip, then moaned upon feeling the hot head of his cock swiping through her folds. They hardly needed any further lubrication when she was already so wet.

He pushed into her at an agonizingly slow pace. She could feel every inch of him as she stretched out around him, until finally he was completely filling her. (Y/N) moaned at the feeling. Roman reached for one of her hands, intertwining their fingers together. It was a moment of sweetness before she knew what was to come.

Roman gave her just enough time to adjust to being stretched around him before he was ruthlessly pounding into her. The sound of his fingers inside of her had been replaced skin slapping against skin every time he thrusted inwards. With one hand, (Y/N) was still gripping onto Roman’s hand, while the other one was holding onto his desk for support. Not that she thought the desk was going to give much support since it felt like it was about to fall apart at any moment.

Through the haze of lust, (Y/N) managed to giggle at the thought. It was replaced quickly by a gasp when Roman’s other hand found its way to her hair and roughly pulled her off of the desk.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, still roughly fucking into her.

“I-I was thinking about if w-we broke your desk,” she admitted. “It sounds and feels like it may just collapse from under me.”

Roman chuckled at the thought as well. “I guess I’ll just have to get a new, better built desk that can handle just how rough I like to fuck my wife.”

He pushed her back down so that her chest was pressed against the desk again. He put his hand between her shoulder blades, holding her into place. He looked down to watch himself pull out then disappear completely into her. Her ass jiggled every time his pelvic bone met her there. She felt so good, so warm and wet wrapped around him, fitting perfectly around his cock.

There were many things Roman loved about his wife, and one of the top things was how it felt like she was made for him.

The sounds she was making was music to his ears. The feeling of her wrapped around him was heavenly. He never wanted to stop fucking her. If he had a choice - and didn’t have a company to run - he’d spend his days home with her, fucking her in every room of their house, on every surface, until they were both worn.

Roman felt his high creeping up on him. He brushed (Y/N)’s hair off of her face so he could see her. She was positively fucked out, her eyes glazing over with haze and her mouth just hanging open.

“Do you think you can give me one more, baby?” he asked her. “I’m getting close. I want us to cum together.”

She lazily nodded her head. He chuckled. “Do you think you can do it, or do you want my help?”

“No,” she said. “I can do it.”

The hand that wasn’t still holding Roman’s reached between her legs to start rubbing circles into her clit. She could feel him as she pressed on her clit, almost like she was tightening around him. It wasn’t going to take much to make her cum again, but she still quickened her pace so that Roman wasn’t waiting long. Next thing she knew, pressure was building up in her stomach again.

“I’m close,” she breathed.

“Hold on, baby, I’ll tell you when.”

Roman took hold of her hip with one hand, never letting go of her other hand, and thrusted harder. (Y/N) was crying out in pleasure at the feeling of him abusing her g-spot. Through gritted teeth he told her, “Now.”

They let go at the same time, (Y/N) pulsing around him as he coated her walls. He buried himself completely inside of her, making sure not a single drop was wasted. (Y/N) laid her head against the hard wood of Roman’s desk, trying to regulate her breathing.

It wasn’t long before Roman, begrudgingly, had to slip himself from her. He helped her to stand up from the table, although her legs were still shaky. He took her into his arms and brought her to the couch he had in his office so they could both sit down. (Y/N) settled back into Roman’s arms and rested against his chest.

“So this is why you texted me,” she said after a few moments of silence. “So we could fuck in your office.”

His chest vibrated as he laughed. “Can a man not ask to see his wife just because he wants to see her?”

“He can, but the second I walked through the door you were all over me.”

“Can you blame me when you walk in wearing this - “ He pulled at the hem of her dress, which she had almost forgot she was wearing. “ - looking so fucking sexy?”

She giggled as she snuggled further into his chest. “I guess it is partially my fault. Especially when my plan was to walk in here and get your attention dressed like this.”

“You always have my attention. This definitely helped though.”

They both laughed. Roman kissed the top of (Y/N)’s head. She moved so she was facing him and could kiss his lips.

“How much time do you think we have?” she asked him. “Since you asked Anne to clear your schedule for an hour.”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure. It definitely hasn’t been a full hour.”

“Well, let’s use the rest of that time wisely.”

Before he could ask what she meant, (Y/N) was moving to the floor to kneel between Roman’s legs. He smiled, putting his hands behind his head as he watched her pull his still unbuttoned pants down again.

Oh yeah, I am the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.

#roman godfrey #roman godfrey x reader #roman godfrey imagine #roman godfrey smut #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard x reader #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skarsgard smut #hemlock grove #imagine #one shot #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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jzprncess · 9 months ago

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love language by sza

“help me understand how you speak your love language ”

pairing: Max Verstappen x Y/N reader

part 1/2 next part

word count: 2,823

summary: a girlfriend of a successful f1 driver decides to learn Dutch to better understand her boyfriends world—his culture, his emotions, and the language he speaks—hoping to connect more deeply and navigate the complexities of their high-speed, high-pressure relationship.

note: first time writing a fan fiction so be nice please! i don’t know how to work tumblr to the fullest so if you want to requests anything, message it to me! this will be in two parts! please leave comments so i know im doing something right!!

　　　　　　 ❛ ━━･♡❪ ❁ ❫♡･━━ ❜

Out of all the unexpected turns her life had taken, learning another language was never on Y/N's radar. Yet, here she was, grappling with the complexities of Dutch, staring at her laptop screen during a Zoom call with her tutor, Anne. They had been chatting frequently, especially while Max was off competing in a grueling triple-header race weekend.

Before he left, Y/N had noticed the shadow of frustration in Max's eyes, a rare shift from his usually upbeat demeanor. It wasn’t lost on her—or anyone, really. The weight of the season’s challenges had begun to press down on him, making his once confident posture seem a little more hunched, his usual optimism now clouded by self-doubt. Everyone could see it. With the way the season had started, Max had envisioned triumph. But now, in October, his hopes felt distant. He hadn’t clinched a victory since June, and every reminder of that fact only seemed to add to his frustration. Y/N wished she could lift that burden, even if just for a moment.

In an attempt to brighten his spirits, she decided to do something special for him—a gesture that would help him escape the pressure he was under. The very day he departed, Y/N found herself scouring the internet, searching for someone who could teach her some basic Dutch. Max, ever the romantic, had always whispered sweet phrases in his native tongue—whether it was giving her a compliment or simply wishing her a good morning. And though she often required translations, Y/N thought, Why not learn the language myself? It couldn’t be that difficult, right?

And so, here she was, earnestly trying to master the phrase “I love you, handsome” in Dutch, yet somehow fumbling over the words.

“Y/N, your pronunciation is getting better, but you need to keep practicing,” Anne encouraged from the other side of the screen, her fingers dancing over her keyboard. The rhythmic sound of her typing seemed to fill the space between them, as if punctuating her words with gentle encouragement. “Have you taken my advice and started watching shows in Dutch? Immersing yourself in the language will really help you improve, especially with those tricky pronunciations.”

Y/N leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms, and stared at the screen, her lips pressing together as she tried to hold back the exhaustion creeping in. She had been working hard at this—between the classes, the practice, the late nights watching Dutch shows, and the constant racing schedule with Max, it was all starting to feel like a lot. “Yeah, I’ve been talking to the TV like it’s my best friend,” she said with a small, self-deprecating chuckle, her voice sounding a bit weary. “The characters probably think I’m crazy by now. But, you know, I think I’m making progress? Or at least I hope I am.”

Anne’s eyebrows raised in an encouraging way. “Well, that’s the spirit! The more you immerse yourself, the more natural it will feel. Dutch can be tricky, especially with its sounds, but you’re not giving up, and that’s what matters.”

Y/N exhaled slowly, rubbing her temples. It had been one of those days—between working on the language and managing the quiet space Max left behind when he was away, the weight of it all was starting to wear on her. “I don’t know... I keep stumbling over the same words, Anne. Like, I feel like I’m so close to getting it, but then I hear myself speak Dutch, and it just sounds... off. I’m trying, but it’s hard to know if I’m really improving.”

Anne smiled gently from the screen, as though she understood exactly where Y/N was coming from. “That’s completely normal. Language learning isn’t a straight path. There are ups and downs, but the key is to be patient with yourself. Remember, it’s not about perfection—it’s about progress. You’re already doing so much more than most people would.”

“I guess so.” Y/N’s voice softened, her eyes drifting away for a moment, lost in thought. “I just wish I could see it, you know? Max always speaks so fluently, and when he says something sweet in Dutch, it sounds so effortless. I want to understand it all, to be able to speak with him like that without stumbling or needing translations.”

Anne nodded, her face sympathetic. “I get that. You want to connect with him in the language that’s so familiar to him, and that’s a beautiful thing. But don’t forget, language is just one part of communication. Max will appreciate your effort no matter where you are in your learning. It’s about the intention, the heart behind it. And besides, if you’re working hard at it, he’ll see that.”

Y/N let out a small sigh, leaning forward in her chair and running a hand through her hair. “I just want him to know how much I’m trying. I know it’s hard for him when the season gets tough, and I want to be able to understand him better, not just the words, but how he’s feeling... especially when he gets frustrated. I want to be able to share those moments with him in his language.” She looked back up at Anne, a mixture of fatigue and determination in her eyes. "But it's like I'm still learning a whole new world, Anne. It's a lot to take in."

Anne’s expression softened even more. “Learning a language is like learning a new way to see the world. And you’re doing it for the right reasons. Max will notice that. Even if you don’t think you’re where you want to be yet, he’s going to appreciate your effort, your commitment to him and to his language. And you’re already showing him that you care in ways most people wouldn’t.”

Y/N gave a faint smile, feeling the weight of Anne’s words settle into her. She took another deep breath, her gaze flickering back to the screen. “I hope so. I’m doing this for him, and... for me, too. It’s just hard to see the progress sometimes when you’re so deep in it.”

“Well, keep at it, Y/N,” Anne encouraged again, her voice gentle but firm. “The progress is there, even when you can’t see it. And remember, when Max comes back, you’ll have a whole new way of connecting. That’s something special. Now, how about we wrap up for today, and next time, we focus on a few of those tricky sounds you’ve been stumbling over?”

Y/N nodded, the exhaustion beginning to fade as she felt a renewed sense of determination wash over her. "Yeah, let’s do that. Thanks, Anne. Really."

Anne smiled warmly, her tone softening. “Good night, Y/N. You’re doing great. Keep going, and keep believing in yourself.”

With that, the call ended, leaving Y/N in the quiet of her room. As the screen went dark, she sat still for a moment, letting Anne’s words settle into her. She still had a long way to go with Dutch, but now, she felt a little less weighed down by it all. She stood up from the desk, stretched, and with a deep breath, made her way to the kitchen. There was more to learn, yes, but she could do it. For Max. And for herself

This had become her routine for the past few weeks—immersing herself in a new language while navigating the emotional ups and downs of Max's racing career. Each night flowed into the next, filled with lessons and the hope that her efforts would spark joy in him when he returned. In a way, she couldn’t help but feel that this small adventure might not only help her connect with him in a deeper way but also serve as a reminder that even in tough times, he had someone in his corner—someone ready to support him and learn alongside him.

Time passed, and soon enough, the hectic three-race weekend was behind them.

Y/N wasn’t exactly sure when Max would be home. The unpredictable nature of his F1 schedule made it hard to keep track of his exact arrival time. As the hours stretched on, she decided to make the most of the quiet afternoon. She started by tidying up the house, picking up scattered race memorabilia and smoothing out the couch cushions, which always seemed to get tossed around after a long weekend of travel. The kitchen was next—dishes stacked in the sink, a few crumbs left from breakfast, and the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air. She cleaned with a kind of absent-minded rhythm, her thoughts drifting between the tasks at hand and the excitement of his return.

Not wanting to spend the whole day indoors, Y/N grabbed her coat, slipped into her shoes, and decided to run a few errands to break the monotony. She mentally made a list of things she needed—a trip to the grocery store for fresh produce, perhaps a quick stop at the florist to pick up some flowers for the dining table. The gentle hum of the city as she walked outside felt like a welcome distraction. As she moved through the familiar streets, her mind kept drifting to Max—imagining his arrival later that evening and wondering how he would feel after the intense race weekend. With a small smile, she pushed the thought aside. There were errands to run, and time had a way of slipping by faster when you were busy.

After a while, Y/N decided it was time to head back home, the errands and quiet city stroll leaving her feeling a bit more tired than usual. The exhaustion crept up slowly, settling into her bones in the best way—a peaceful kind of tiredness that made the thought of being home all the more appealing. Once she stepped inside, she kicked off her shoes by the door and shrugged off her jacket, instantly feeling the comfort of her own space wrap around her.

She sank onto the couch, letting the weight of the day melt away, but it wasn’t long before she found herself wanting to do something—something simple and familiar to bring a sense of warmth and routine to the day. The kitchen seemed like the perfect place. She stepped into the kitchen, the warmth of the space a comforting contrast to the quiet of the house. Her mind immediately wandered to dessert—something sweet to fill the silence. Pulling out her phone, she swiped through a few recipe sites, curiosity leading her fingers. After a moment, she typed "Dutch desserts" into the search bar. Her eyes quickly landed on appeltaart, the iconic Dutch apple pie. The thought of the rich, spiced apples wrapped in buttery crust made her stomach rumble. It was exactly what the moment called for.

With a smile, she set the phone down and rolled up her sleeves. The comforting hum of her favorite playlist began to fill the room, chasing away the silence and replacing it with familiar tunes. As the music flowed through the speakers, she started pulling ingredients from the pantry—flour, sugar, butter, and cinnamon. She paused for a moment, letting the soft beat of the song take over as she laid everything out on the counter. The scent of cinnamon already began to stir a feeling of warmth and anticipation.

With a deep breath, she moved into the rhythm of the recipe, the steady motion of measuring, mixing, and prepping grounding her. She could already picture the golden crust and warm, sweet filling that would soon fill the kitchen, and her heart swelled with a sense of simple joy.

As she hummed softly to the tune playing in the background, completely engrossed in the rhythm of her mixing and the warmth of the kitchen, she remained oblivious to Max stepping through the front door, his footsteps barely audible on the hardwood floor. Max paused for a moment, his eyes scanning the room before he crept quietly toward the kitchen, careful not to make a sound. He peeked around the corner, his gaze falling on you as you worked your magic, your movements fluid and focused. A smile tugged at his lips as the sweet scent of apple pie hit him, and he inhaled deeply, savoring the warm, comforting aroma that filled the air.

Max moved silently behind her, his steps light as he closed the distance between them. With a smile, he slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her close against him. He rested his chin on her shoulder for a moment, savoring the warmth of her presence, before pressing a tender kiss to her soft skin. As he inhaled the sweet scent of the kitchen, his lips brushed her shoulder, and he murmured in a low, appreciative voice, "Smells amazing."

The unexpected touch causes her to flinch, a small gasp escaping her as she instinctively tenses, but her body quickly relaxes when she turns to find Max standing there. A soft smile tugs at her lips as she meets his gaze. "I didn't hear you come in," she murmurs, her voice gentle and warm as she leans slightly into his embrace, feeling the comforting weight of his presence. She glances toward the counter, her hands still lightly dusted with flour, and then looks back at him, her eyes sparkling with a mix of affection and pride. "I made apple—" Her words falter for a brief moment, and she pauses, taking a breath before finishing with a playful smile, "Ik heb appeltaart gemaakt." (i made apple pie) She lets the Dutch phrase roll off her tongue with a touch of pride, her eyes lighting up as she anticipates his reaction to the homemade treat and at the sudden Dutch.

Max chuckles, the sound warm and teasing. "Oh, dus je spreekt nu Nederlands?" (Oh, so you speak Dutch now?) His eyes narrow playfully as he takes her in, studying her with a hint of disbelief, almost as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd just heard. It takes a moment for her to process his words, the surprise registering on her face before a grin tugs at her lips. She lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head slightly as she meets his gaze. “Leren voor jou,” she responds with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, her voice light and teasing as she repeats the phrase—"Learning for you."

Max hums contentedly into her skin, his voice soft but filled with affection. "What did I ever do to deserve you?" His words are a gentle murmur, as though he's savoring the moment. She chuckles, the sound warm and light, as she wipes her hands on a nearby towel. Without missing a beat, she spins around, her eyes sparkling, and wraps her arms around him in a tight embrace. "I've missed you," she whispers into his chest, her voice filled with sincerity, as if the distance between them had only made her feelings stronger.

He gently pulls away, his hands lingering at her waist as he looks down at her, his eyes soft with affection. There’s a quiet warmth in his gaze, a tenderness that makes his heart swell with emotion. "I've missed you too," he murmurs, his voice low and sincere, the words wrapped in a quiet vulnerability. He smiles, a soft, almost teasing glint in his eyes as he adds, "Mijntje," (my little one), his tone filled with both love and playfulness. With a tender sigh, he leans down, his face drawing closer to hers. As he lowers himself, he brushes his lips gently against hers, the kiss soft and lingering, a promise of everything he feels for her in that quiet, intimate moment.

She pulls back just enough to look into his eyes, her breath catching in the space between them. Her heart races, each beat carrying the weight of everything she feels for him. Her hands rest gently on his chest as she searches his gaze, finding warmth, safety, and a quiet promise there. With a soft sigh, she leans in just a little closer, her lips barely brushing his as she whispers, her voice trembling with sincerity, "Ik hou van jou."

The words, though soft, are heavy with all the emotions she can't quite put into words—years of trust, laughter, passion, and quiet moments, all wrapped in those simple yet profound syllables. His breath hitches, and a smile plays on his lips as he leans in, closing the small space between them with a kiss that feels like both a promise and a beginning. There’s a warmth radiating between them, an unspoken yearning that lingers in the air, electrifying yet restrained. The kiss deepens, lingering just a moment longer, igniting a flutter of anticipation in her chest—a taste of what could be. As they pull away, their eyes lock, and in that shared gaze lies a world of possibilities, a silent acknowledgment of the passion that awaits them.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

tag list : @heluvsjappie

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x y/n #f1 fluff #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 fanfic #mv1 x reader #mv1 x y/n #jzprncess

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hometoursandotherstuff · 4 months ago

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How is this gorgeous 1895 Queen Anne Victorian in Davenport, IA $399,900? It has 8bds, 8ba, 4,124 sq ft, and tons of original built-ins. This would be over $1m somewhere else, but it didn't sell, was taken off the market, and just relisted 2 days ago. Look at this.

Nice entrance foyer with room for coats, boots, umbrellas, etc.

Then, step into the cozy sitting room with wainscoting, a fireplace, built-in benches, pocket doors, and the stairs to the upper floor. All original.

The dining room features muraled wallpaper, and a beautiful fireplace of carved wood, blue tile, and a painting.

The remodeled kitchen fits in flawlessly with matching wood cabinetry, stained glass, beautiful tile, copper double farm sink, and original fireplace.

And, look at the beautiful butler's pantry.

Here's a pretty breakfast room. This is so sweet.

Right off the dining room, thru pocket doors, there's a comfortable pastel family room.

Behind the stairs and 2 steps down, they put a powder room in an open nook.

On the stair landing, the newel post features an original bronze statue.

The primary bedroom is a fancy room with a stained glass tryptic window and a fireplace.

This pink bedroom is beautiful, also. Each of the 8 bedrooms is decorated.

Every room in this home features a beautiful original lighting fixture.

The attic is finished and has some lovely bedrooms with their own baths.

Nicely updated attic baths.

The back of the house features a turret and rounded porch.

Isn't this cute?

Large, pretty yard has a patio and a gazebo.

It's located in a lovely neighborhood, but not far from the city area, the Mississippi River, and the bridge to Illinois. .28 acre lot.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/817-W-7th-St-Davenport-IA-52802/76856252_zpid/

#victorian homes #queen anne victorian #old house dreams #houses #house tours #home tour #homes under $400k

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daimus · 4 months ago

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every touch like a modified blow

Sae has always been a softer authority.

wc — 1.6k

tags — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, omegaverse, beta sae x omega reader, my Sae is always a predator, literally the devil himself, fingering, reader is drunk, mindlessness (?) omega space (?) idk how to tag this but let me know if you need something tagged, title borrowed from an Anne Carson essay

“You’re tiresome, you know that?”

Sae picks you up from the club in the way he likes you best: messy hair and smeared makeup and a mouth that’s begging to be kissed, pouting and bitten raw. He resists. It’s dawn. Light spills into the rosy sky like water from a glass, and you are laughing against his throat with a brightness that hurts his heart.

“Stop that,” he says, a hand gently pressing your face against from his neck. “You know you won’t smell anything.”

He rolls his eyes at you when you paw at his scent patches anyway. The effort it takes to peel them off will be wasted. You inhale sharply as your press your nose right up against his warm, salty pulse. It’s just sweat, just skin, just Sae, but you’re breathing - panting, really - like he’s capable of giving off actual scent like an omega or an alpha.

“Won’t you say something?” He asks. “Or am I alone in this conversation?”

“What do you want to hear?” Your voice is dry and cracked. He gets up to pour you a glass from the pitcher.

“Something less obsequious maybe,” he observes dryly.

“I can’t help it,” you say, your smile darting around your mouth like a nervous animal, but why are you nervous? It’s just Sae. You're already reaching out to him even though he’s barely been gone for a minute. “It’s my biology.”

His hands are sympathetic as they stroke your hair. His words are not. “Biology is a starting point, not the end product. Don’t make excuses.”

You go silent again.

“And don’t huff.”

You turn your head to bite his hand, the one petting your hair.

“Brat,” he says fondly, and then, as if to overcorrect for the mistake of showing his affection, he pins you down against the sofa.

Sae would never hurt you. But you love him, and love feels like fear - especially when he doesn’t tell you how he feels. Some partners say sweet things but act differently. Sae is the opposite. He doesn’t speak. You have to read everything through his actions.

“Stay down,” he commands. “I’m going to get your makeup wipes. Don’t move.”

He finds you halfway on the ground when he comes back, struggling to get out of your shirt, which suddenly feels two times too small.

“You’re just begging for it, huh?” Sae says, setting the little packet of wipes down next to you. “Do you want me to punish you?”

You throw a loose, easy smile over your right shoulder at him - or your left - it’s hard to tell when you’re on the ground contorted like this. It’s alcohol-wobbly, your smile distorted by the way your cheeks aren’t moving the way you’re used to.

“You’re so drunk, baby,” he says, amused.

“Want it, Sae,” you chirp up at him. “You can punish me.”

He pats your head. It feels strangely nice. You don’t remember being pet by your parents in your youth or anyone else. Sae is the first. If he has anything to say about it, he’ll be the last.

“I’ve never seen someone so happy to be scolded.”

You lean into him, trying to show him what you want. It’s the way he communicates, after all, and Sae listens best when you meet him at his level. That’s how you end up in his lap, still half stuck in your shirt with your arms all but bound behind your back.

“Punishment?” You tilt your head at him as he frees you. He runs light fingerprints over the red marks on your arms and shoulders with a soft, disapproving click of his tongue.

“No,” he says, finally dropping his hands. “I don’t think you should get what you want. I’m going to make you feel good instead. Well-“ his mouth curves into a barely there smile that your brain registers as danger in the same way the bright color of a frog means poison. “You’re going to make yourself feel good.”

Your brain works over this statement. “Huh?”

You don’t understand until Sae has your panties off and is fucking two fingers into you. He’s just tall enough like this that he can kind of overwhelm you, his chin resting on top of your head, his chest to your back.

“Go on,” he says, almost disinterestedly, like he’s not knuckle deep in your cunt. “Make yourself feel nice.”

“Sae,” your voice rises. It’s a question.

“Don’t be scared,” he presses a kiss against your neck, then your shoulder. His mouth is warm, not hot, but it burns against your skin. You remember the scald for longer than you should. “Fuck yourself on my fingers.”

Sae doesn’t get mean when you’re drunk. He’s always patient and gentle with you. He never does anything you don’t want to do. He only gets more vocal, a little more rough with his language. You don’t know why vulnerability in you unlocks this in him, but it does.

Hesitantly, you lift your hips. His other hand wraps itself around your waist, helping you bounce in his lap as you try to mimic his rhythm from what you remember. Soon enough, you grind to a halt even as the pleasure building in you protests.

“Why’d you stop? You can’t?”

You shake your head.

“Oh, of course.” He sounds so pleased about it. “You don’t want to.”

You don’t even have the nerve to say it out loud, so you can only nod your head. You could get off from this, but you’d rather have him do it. The way you desire him is devastating. You’ll never be able to recover from it.

“It’s okay,” he says. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of everything.”

A third finger slips in, and then for the first time, Sae presses his thumb against your clit. You jerk like you’ve been shocked with electricity.

He smothers a smile against your hair, rubbing his cheek against the top of your head, almost cat-like. You’re too busy drowning in pleasure to notice this moment, but he’ll remember this for the two of you.

He continues to pet at your clit ruthlessly, little touches that have you choking on that growing sensation within your belly. You’re so full of him, of it, that you imagine you can taste it in the back of your throat. Something like fear has been knocked loose inside of you and the trembling grows with it.

It’s too intense. You’re scared of it. It’s going to burn you up, inside out. It’s going to hurt as much as it feels good.

“Relax,” Sae mutters. “Let go.”

Your instincts are howling and scratching at you, but you have no idea what nature is telling you to do.

“Can’t-“ you can’t stop moving even now, can’t stop chasing what you know you won’t reach. “Can’t- Sae- help me!”

“What’s wrong?” He coos. “I told you to make yourself feel good.”

“Sae,” his name comes out on a broken moan. “Sae.”

All but that fades into incoherence, robbed from you by something indescribably old, written into your cells. The feeling is still building, like pressure but if pressure had sharp teeth. You gasp and hold on to him.

Once, as a child, you ran from a flood to higher ground. This time, nothing will save you.

Because it’s not fear, which can burn away in daylight. It’s your consciousness, whole and entire, crumbling before you and you want it. Like an animal, you want to lose all control.

If you give everything to Sae, won't he take such good care of it?

“Come on,” Sae whispers directly into your ear. “What happened to your biology?”

He says it like a taunt, but you have nothing left in you to care. After all, he’s right. Your brain is gone and your nature has taken over.

You turn your face against him so as to muffle your noises, loud, wet; your mouth gumming against his shirt in a mindless bite that does nothing, goes nowhere. Sae wants to hear you even more than he wants to see you when he comes, but he lets you be and focuses on working over your clit.

“There we go,” he says softly. “There’s my omega.”

“Alpha,” you whine back, completely lost. You’re drooling for him, so wet it leaks onto his pants.

“Not quite,” Sae says. His mouth twitches with the knife edge of his smile, a sharp thing that there’s then gone.

“How many do you think you can give me?” He asks. Your pussy twitches around him, aware that he’s talking but not sure what he’s really saying.

“Sorry. Forgot you can’t reply,” he says. “We’ll play it by ear.”

That’s okay with you.

Sae is the jagged rocks you break yourself against. The freezing water beneath the bridge you drive off. The burn of smoke from that first drag of addiction.

Sae is a means of self destruction that you are all too happy to use. Wanting and hungry, you always crawl back for more.

That’s what he counts on, anyway.

He breaks you down. You break him open.

Inside the hard shell of him is something sweet and gooey.

Whatever Sae is when he’s with you is doting and pliant. It coos over you like it can’t help itself. He’s not an alpha. He doesn’t dominate. There’s no need, much less desire. Sae has always been a softer authority.

His heart is all tender for you, soft and open.

#sera writes #itoshi sae x reader #sae smut #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut

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pieandflannel · 3 months ago

Text

₊˚⊹♡ a sunday kind of love

pairing: beau arlen x fem!reader

summary: beau always knew a way to make your heart flutter. even if it meant going into a field and handpicking flowers for you

cw: tooth-rotting fluff.ᐟ beau being an absolute sweetheart.ᐟ pre-established relationship [married].ᐟ

word count: 1070

julia yaps: manifesting this kind of love tbh.

inspo: a sunday kind of love by etta james

────────── 🌻 ──────────

the sunshine rays snuck their way through your bedroom curtains, the golden light falling softly upon your tranquil features and bouncing off your messy but adorable bed hair.

as you naturally wake up from your peaceful slumber, you notice the other side of the bed being empty.

the only thing lying on beau’s pillow was a little handwritten note. you roll over to reach it and read,

‘good morning beautiful’ with a little squiggly heart drawn by him. it makes your heart smile. you always loved beau’s random acts of sweetness.

the mornings were stunning in montana during spring, you weren’t much of a morning person but it sure was worth the view, especially whilst living a bit out in the countryside.

it was 7am on a sunday, so you didn’t even bother to dress out of your pjs yet.

you walked downstairs, noticing the living room is empty you stroll your way down towards the kitchen, as you get closer to the kitchen you begin to hear a faint humming sound, a melody of some sorts.

you pop your head in and notice beau sitting at the wooden kitchen table, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a small newspaper in the other.

the radio playing quietly in the background and he hums along to the song. you can’t help the smile that grows on your face, you step into the kitchen, catching his attention.

“good morning” a sleepy smile on your face and your voice still a bit raspy from sleep, you rub your eyes and walk over to him, giving him a little kiss on the cheek, earning a warm smile from him.

“someone’s up nice and early for a sunday morning” you giggle, walking over to the coffee drip machine and pouring yourself a cup.

he puts the newspaper down and takes a sip of his coffee. his eyes respectfully roaming over your figure, he had a weakness for your natural look, no makeup, bed hair, comfy clothing. there was just something about you being relaxed and snug that he adored.

“i had a couple things to do” he answers in his deeply soothing voice. you turn to face him as you take a sip of the still warm coffee.

“like what?” you ask innocently as you lean your back against the kitchen island, purely out of curiosity as to what he could’ve possibly be doing on a sunday morning before most places and stores even open up.

he just smiles and stands up from his chair, he reaches behind his seat as if he was hiding something all this time, you frown a bit in confusion but don’t question him, not yet at least.

beau turns back round facing you with a smile as he holds a bouquet made up of wild flowers such as daisies, buttercups, lavender, wax flowers, queen anne’s lace and forget-me-not’s.

the whites, blues and purples mixed in with the yellows and greens all perfectly matching together with the beige rope ribbon holding it all together.

your soft gaze wandering from the flowers up to meet his loving expression.

“you went to a florist? are they even open at this hour?!” Your smile grows.

“well, actually.. i handpicked those myself” he admits with a little proud grin, the corner of his eyes wrinkling slightly.

your eyes light up at his confession,

“you did not..” you chuckle in disbelief.

“oh I did, i even got evidence to prove so” beau spoke, showing the palm of his hand having slight green stains from hand picking the flowers.

“aww beau..” you said in a slightly whiny tone and soft puppy eyes. “but what’s the occasion?”

“it’s called ‘because why not’ darlin” he answered, his gorgeous green eyes admiring the way the sun hits your soft features.

you can’t help but smile shyly, he is so sweet it might give you a toothache.

“thank you babe, you’re honestly the sweetest” you tiptoe to give him a peck on the lips.

he feels satisfaction growing deep inside his chest, being the reason you smile or laugh always made his heart fill with pride.

you take the bouquet from him with a grin, lifting the flowers up to your nose and smelling them.

you walk over to the kitchen cabinet and take out a small white vase to fit the flowers.

you pour some water into the vase, putting the flowers gently in and careful setting the vase down on the counter where you’ll be able to notice the bouquet every time you walk into the kitchen.

“i was thinking..” beau starts off making you turn to face him from curiosity.

“how bout we check out that new diner? you know for breakfast, i’ve heard they have amazing reviews, their belgium waffles are apparently to die for” he suggests with an excited smile. beau has always been a foodie. one hand in his jeans pocket and the other rubbing the back of his neck as he waits for your reply.

“are you asking me out on a date, sheriff?” you joke with a small smirk. he lets out a little chuckle at your casual flirting despite the two of you being already in a relationship.

“yeah sweetheart, i am” he answered a little shy.

“is that-“ you walk up to him, acting like you are trying to get a closer look at his face.

“is that a blush i see?” you tease him, then let out a giggle. booping his nose. beau can’t help the smile that grows across his face.

“okay, guess i’ll be eating waffles alone then” he shrugs as he teases you back. starting to slowly walk towards the kitchen door.

“no~ i was just joking beau” you pout as you grab him by his sleeve to stop him. “you know i love you right?” you bat your lashes at him and pout cutely.

“i know sweetheart, i love you too” his hand holding the back of your neck as he presses a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“now go get ready for me” his tone warm but authoritative. he knew it always gave you the butterflies. his hand lingering at your waist before sliding to the small of your back.

“o-okay” you get slightly caught off guard. you can feel yourself getting warmer. you hop upstairs to pick an outfit.

“10 minutes and I wanna see you downstairs”

thank you so much for reading! feedback and reblogs are always deeply appreciated <3

tags: @jensino @emeraldcrs @soldiersgirl @jensenacklesballsack @missus-ackles @littlesoulshine @deanswifeyy @slut4jackles @h8aaz @figisonline @figthoughts @angelicjackles @losers-clvb @lyarr24 @cowboysandcigarettes @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @rositaslabyrinth @deanspookiebear @tinas111 @bejeweledinterludes @miss-marmalade

𑁥౿ check out my masterlist for other works!

♡ see this post to be added to the taglist!

#pieandflannel #jensen ackles #beau arlen #beau arlen imagine #beau arlen fluff #fluff #fanfic #big sky #jackles #jensen fucking ackles #jensen x reader #beau x reader #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x you

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httpvomitello · 3 months ago

Note

Okay so I've had this idea in my head and I bet you'd be able to write it beautifully because all your works are just amazing. But a George Weasley x Reader (I know you get alot of those I'm sorry) where he introduces her to his family and Molly doesn't like her because she liked George's ex even though she treated him horribly, so she's snarky and passive aggressive towards her and stuff and George is just done after a while.

Hello, hellooo! You know what surprises me? English is not my first language, so when someone compliments my writing, I feel really happy that I am able to bring that feeling to the readers. When I write, I am afraid of making a mistake, but when I see people complimenting what i do, I think I can never find enough words to describe how happy I truly feel! And don't worry about asking for more for George, he, besides Fred, is one of my favorites! So I'm always happy to write about him hehe ~ ♡

Not Good Enough? .｡*･ﾟﾟ

Summary: Meeting the Weasley family was supposed to be a nice experience. George had been talking about introducing you to them for months, promising they’d adore you. What he didn’t mention was that his mother, Molly Weasley, had a favorite when it came to his past relationships—and unfortunately, it wasn’t you.

george weasley x f!reader

You knew meeting George’s family was a big deal.

He had been gushing about them for weeks, promising that you’d fit right in. That his mother would love you. That his siblings would immediately adore you.

So when you finally stepped into the Burrow, you expected warmth.

What you didn’t expect was for Molly Weasley to barely look at you before plastering on a stiff smile.

“George has told us so much about you,” she said, her voice just a little too sweet.

You smiled nervously. “All good things, I hope?”

She hummed. “Well, I suppose we’ll see.”

George stiffened beside you, squeezing your hand. You could feel the tension radiating from him, but before you could say anything, Mrs. Weasley had already turned away, calling for the others.

You exchanged a glance with George.

He forced a smile. “She’s probably just tired. Been cooking all day, you know how she is.”

You nodded, choosing to believe him. Maybe she was just in a mood. Maybe she’d warm up to you.

But as the day went on, it became painfully obvious that Molly Weasley had already made up her mind about you.

The first time it happened, you let it slide.

“I just hope you’re keeping up with George,” she said over dinner, watching you as she served another helping of mashed potatoes. “His last girlfriend was so supportive of his business.”

You forced a smile. “I love what he does. He’s brilliant.”

Molly hummed. “Well, she used to stay up all night helping him with inventory.”

You blinked. “I—”

“I don’t need anyone to do that, Mum,” George cut in, giving her a look. “And I hated when she did, actually. She never let me do things my way.”

Molly ignored him. “It’s just so nice when a couple can support each other fully.”

You swallowed thickly.

Fred, who was sitting across the table, raised an eyebrow. “Mum, you do realize his ex was a nightmare, right?”

Molly shot him a sharp look. “She was lovely.”

Fred snorted. “She threw a cauldron at his head once.”

“She cared,” Molly insisted.

You stared down at your plate, poking at your peas.

George sighed. “Mum—”

“Oh, don’t be so sensitive, George. I’m just saying.”

And with that, she turned back to her food, completely oblivious to the storm brewing beside her.

The second time, you started to get annoyed.

“Are you sure you’re comfortable here, dear?” Molly asked when George left the room for a second. “The Burrow can be a lot for some people. George’s last girlfriend just adored it here. Anne was so sweet. Always helping around the house, so thoughtful—”

You clenched your jaw.

“I love it here,” you said, forcing your voice to stay even. “It’s wonderful.”

Molly smiled, but there was something sharp behind it.

“Well, that’s good then.”

You knew exactly what she was implying.

But by the time the third backhanded comment rolled around, you weren’t in the mood to keep your mouth shut.

“She was always so supportive of George’s ambitions,” Molly mused, handing him a plate.

Your jaw clenched.

“Oh, you mean the same girl who constantly put him down? Who acted like she owned him?” you said, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, sounds lovely.”

Molly’s eyes narrowed. “She pushed him to be better.”

You scoffed. “She pushed him to be miserable.”

Fred let out a low whistle. “Finally, someone says it.”

George exhaled sharply, setting his fork down. “Mum, I’m serious. Stop bringing her up.”

“I’m just saying,” Molly said, a little too innocently, “it’s nice when someone really understands you.”

That was it.

You pushed your chair back, standing up.

“Molly, I don’t know what your problem is with me, but I’m done pretending it’s okay,” you said, crossing your arms.

The room went silent.

Molly blinked at you, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

“You keep bringing up George’s ex like she was the best thing to ever happen to him, but guess what? She wasn’t.” Your voice was steady, unwavering. “She treated him like a bloody project, not a person.”

Molly huffed. “That’s a bit dramatic.”

“Oh, is it?” You raised an eyebrow. “Then tell me—why did George break up with her? Tell me, why am I here and not her? Why does everyone else here agree that she was awful for him?”

Molly opened her mouth, but for once, she had no immediate response.

George stood up beside you, his face tight with frustration. “I don’t know why you liked Anne so much, Mum, but I didn’t,” he said firmly. “I love Y/N. And I don’t care if you don’t see it—she treats me better than my ex ever did.”

Molly pursed her lips. “I—”

“I’m not asking for your approval,” you interrupted. “But if you can’t even try to be decent to me, then I don’t need to be here.”

Molly’s face shifted—guilt flickered in her expression. She looked around, realizing that the rest of her family wasn’t backing her up.

Arthur sighed. “Molly, dear… maybe it’s time to let go of the past.”

Molly hesitated, then let out a slow breath. “…I suppose I may have been a bit unfair.”

George scoffed. “A bit?”

Molly shot him a look, then turned back to you. “I’ll… try.”

You stared at her for a long moment.

You could tell she wasn’t fully apologizing—this wasn’t her admitting she was wrong. It was her trying to keep the peace.

But at least it was something.

“…Good,” you said finally. “Because George deserves better than to feel like he has to fight for the person he loves to be accepted.”

Molly nodded stiffly, then turned back to the table. “Well. Who wants dessert?”

Fred leaned over to George, whispering, “Mate, you really know how to pick ’em.”

George grinned, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Yeah,” he said proudly. “I do.”

#reader #x reader #y/n #f!reader #hogwarts #hogwarts legacy #weasley family #george weasley #fred weasley #arthur weasley #weasley twins #molly weasley #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasly x reader #george weasley x reader #x female reader #x fem!reader

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whizzing-fizzbee · 6 months ago

Text

Girls' Night

Sebastian Sallow x F!OC

Summary: Emmeline Alexander plans a girls' night for Anne Sallow and their friends at the cottage in Feldcroft, but her best friend and crush Sebastian insists on crashing the party. In other words, MC (Emmeline) and Sebastian take advantage of the Silencio spell in Sebastian's bedroom after a night of playing Never Have I Ever. Rating: Explicit 18+ (Minors DNI), all characters are 18+ Themes: Friends to lovers, slumber party, sleepover, girl talk, smut, romance Word count: 7,568 Notes: Every time I sit down to write my chapter fics, I accidentally write some nonsensical smut. Oops.

Characters are all seventh years and 18 years old. MC is an original female character named Emmeline Alexander.

Part 1 is clean, Part II has all the smut. Both can be found on AO3 or below the cut.

Part I: Girls' Night

Nightfall was reaching Feldcroft as Emmeline Alexander approached the quaint hamlet. She was tired from a long day of studying, but had decided to fly her broom there from Hogwarts. The fresh air was good for her and gave her some time to relax before what was sure to be a boisterous night.

Once she touched down, Emmeline made the familiar short trek to that same cottage – the one she’d been visiting regularly for over two years. Now, the cottage was larger – the handiwork of some transfiguration spells and charms she had mastered in the Room of Requirement. The home had two floors and separate bedrooms now, and she’d even added some flower boxes to the windows with simple, yet pretty landscaping outside.

It felt like home. In many ways, it was her second home.

The lights inside the cottage were on and Emmeline could hear joyous laughter and voices inside. She grinned to herself with anticipation as she knocked.

The door swung open and she was surprised by the first face to greet her.

“Sebastian?” she said stupidly.

“How nice to see you, too,” the freckled 18-year-old replied. He grinned at her and Emmeline felt her stomach flip.

“Emmeline!” Anne Sallow, Imelda Reyes and Poppy Sweeting waved from their seats around the dining table inside.

Emmeline moved to enter the home but was blocked by Sebastian, who held an arm across the threshold to prevent her from entering. “Wait,” he said, his lips forming a smirk. “You have to answer a security question.”

“Security question?” Emmeline repeatedly stupidly. “Seb, it’s me.”

“A likely response from an imposter,” Sebastian quipped while Anne, Imelda and Poppy giggled.

Emmeline sighed at the frivolity of it all. Clearly the group had already opened the firewhiskey. “Fine,” she sighed. “What’s the question?”

“Who was your first crush at Hogwarts?” Sebastian asked.

“Why is that the question?”

“Because the answer’s funny.”

Emmeline sighed again. “Do I have to?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. Ominis,” Emmeline muttered quietly.

“Who?”

“Ominis Gaunt.”

The group inside roared with laughter as Emmeline shoved her way past Sebastian, tossing her satchel on the floor once inside.

“Bastard,” she mumbled. Sebastian threw an arm around her and pulled her in for a sideways hug.

“You know you love me,” he teased before Emmeline shoved him away.

“I’d love to be rid of you,” she sneered. “Besides, isn’t this supposed to be a girls’ night? Why are you here?”

“Don’t worry, darling, I’ll be out of your hair soon,” Sebastian said. “I’ll retreat to my room so you lovely ladies can do whatever it is you do.”

“Why aren’t you at Hogwarts?”

“Because it’s the weekend and all of my favorite people are here… except Ominis, but I reckon he’d appreciate a break from me,” Sebastian said.

“I’d appreciate a break from you too,” Emmeline huffed. “Especially after that stunt you pulled at breakfast this morning.”

“That was an accident, darling. I didn’t know the goblet was going to explode like that.”

Emmeline rolled her eyes and slinked past him to take a seat at the table with her other friends. She was quick to pour herself a glass from the firewhiskey bottle that sat on the table.

“Where’s Natty?” she asked as she reached for a handful of pear drops from a bowl.

“She’ll be here any moment,” Poppy answered. “She was having dinner with her mum.”

“And Nellie?”

“She’s not coming. She had a date.”

Emmeline’s eyes widened with curiosity. “With whom?”

“Everett.”

“Clopton?”

“Do we know another Everett?” Sebastian chimed in from the sink where he was cleaning dishes. Emmeline turned to glare at him.

“Excuse me, but I do believe this is supposed to be a girls’ night,” she chided. “These conversations are not meant to include you.”

Imelda and Poppy shared a glance, their understanding mutual. It was going to be a long, albeit entertaining night with Sebastian and Emmeline egging each other on. It was the nature of their friendship, and neither could help themselves.

But despite their ceaseless banter, Emmeline and Sebastian were incredibly fond of each other, carrying a close bond that traced back to the start of their fifth year. Since then, their lives became irrevocably intertwined, woven by the threads of adventure, trauma and mutual secrets.

They were inseparable most days, except when Sebastian inevitably said or did something foolish. He provided an edge that contrasted Emmeline’s poise, an amusing juxtaposition to all who had the privilege to sit back and observe the tandem.

What neither of them could admit, though, was that their bond, no matter how unyielding, wasn’t quite enough to satiate either of them.

A brisk knock at the door signaled Natty’s arrival. Sebastian answered it again and offered Natty a much more hospitable welcome than the one he’d given Emmeline.

“Why doesn’t she have to answer any security questions?” Emmeline demanded.

“Because she is trustworthy,” Sebastian said, flashing an innocent grin. Emmeline shot him a glare, which only seemed to bring him more glee.

The five girls settled in around the table, catching up on their latest life updates. Though Emmeline, Imelda, Natty and Poppy saw one another daily at Hogwarts, Emmeline had taken it upon herself to ensure Anne wouldn’t feel left out. She knew Anne missed Hogwarts and her friends, especially now that it was their seventh year, so she arranged a slumber party to bring some cheer to the Feldcroft cottage.

“Natty, how was dinner with your mum?” Emmeline asked.

Natty sighed. “Not good,” she replied. “My mother doesn’t like the idea of me dating Eric.”

“Why not? Eric’s nice,” Poppy said.

“She doesn’t think Eric has enough ambition,” Natty explained.

“Well they can’t all be Slytherins,” Emmeline laughed.

“Too true!” Anne laughed.

“And they can’t all be Leander, who still seems to think he’s going to be a world-renowned duelist,” Poppy muttered.

Emmeline offered her a sympathetic smile. “He’s still on about that?” she asked.

“More than ever,” Poppy sighed. “It’s rather insufferable, really. Makes me wonder if there’s something wrong with my head for fancying him.”

Meanwhile, Sebastian listened to their conversation with fascination as he pretended to dry dishes in the kitchen. Sure, he knew girls had these kinds of discussions, but they usually chose their words carefully or withheld certain details when boys were around. He felt like they were providing him with some kind of answer sheet that could help him crack the code to what it was that women actually wanted.

“Leander always means well,” Emmeline continued. “Sometimes it comes off a bit obnoxious or paltry, but his intentions are always good.”

“I wish I knew what his intentions are with me,” Poppy sighed. “He’s all over the place. Anyway, I guess I should be patient with him. He may be delusional at times, but at least he has ambitions.”

“Eric does have ambitions, though,” Natty sighed. “He’s very brave and has a good head on his shoulders. He just isn’t sure what he wants to do after Hogwarts yet. I told my mother he’d figure it out and find a good job, but she doesn’t seem convinced.”

“She’ll come around,” Emmeline assured. “She’s just being a protective mother. She just needs to get to know him a little more.”

“I hope that’s true,” Natty said. “I really like him.”

“He really likes you too,” Imelda noted. “I overheard him singing your praises to Weasley in Potions last week. You know, before the class had to clear out because of Garreth’s rogue potion.”

“Speaking of Garreth,” Poppy giggled. “I heard you had to let him down easy, Emmeline.”

“What?!”

The five girls jumped at the sudden intrusion, turning to stare at Sebastian, who had been listening intently from his spot near the sink.

“Will you mind your business?!” Anne chided.

“Weasley asked you out?” Sebastian asked, his gaze fixed on Emmeline as he ignored his sister’s scolding.

Emmeline furrowed her brow at him, still taken aback by his sudden outburst. “What, is that so hard to believe?” she demanded.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Sebastian replied. He was fortunate he was standing with one side turned away from the group of girls, because a vein in his neck threatened to expose just how irritated he was. “I’m just surprised, is all. Didn’t know Weasley had it in him.”

“Well I told him thanks but no thanks,” Emmeline said, still eyeing Sebastian suspiciously. “I like Garreth but he’s not my type.”

“And what is your type?” Imelda asked. “Judging from your past dating history, I’m not sure you have one.”

Emmeline paused. It was true, the boys she’d gone out with were all quite different from one another. Her first crush at Hogwarts had been Ominis, which all of her friends gleefully reminded her of much too frequently for her liking. She had fancied him because he was noble and composed, yet just playful enough to avoid being deemed too stuffy. But that crush had been fleeting as she and Ominis became close friends, and Emmeline’s affections were replaced by the other member of their trio, who was just the right amount of daring and incalculable she adored.

Then there was Amit Thakkar, who had been incredibly romantic and sweet, but not quite adventurous enough for her. There was also Andrew Larson, who intrigued Emmeline with his artistry and creative spirit, but was also too keen on staying indoors and out of trouble.

Emmeline had agreed to a handful of Hogsmeade visits and informal dates with other boys in her year, but none had reached more than one or two outings before she offered some excuse, usually that she was too busy to date.

In truth, Emmeline’s preoccupation had little to do with her schedule and everything to do with the only boy who had never pursued her.

She and Sebastian teased, flirted, even made suggestive remarks not suitable for most platonic friendships. They spent most of their free time, meals and classes together, far too often even for best mates. They shared secrets, musings and inside jokes that no other ears would ever hear, but they remained unaware that their biggest secret was mutual.

“I guess Garreth is just too… superficial for me,” Emmeline finally said with a shrug. “Don’t get me wrong, I like him. He makes me laugh and he’s always fun to hang out with, but I can’t recall ever having one deep or meaningful conversation with him in the two-and-a-half years I’ve known him. I want someone who makes me laugh but also makes me think.”

“But didn’t you say Amit was too deep for you?” Imelda pointed out.

Emmeline sighed. “There’s no such thing as too deep,” she said. “Amit was just too… philosophical. He was always trying to apply some underlying meaning to everything. It was just too much for me. Sometimes, I think things just happen because that’s how life works. There’s not always any rhyme or reason to its occurrences. That said, I also enjoy reflecting on how life shapes us.”

“I’m not sure you’re ever going to find someone who offers you that right balance of perception and candor,” Natty laughed.

“Maybe you need to stop dating so many Ravenclaws,” Sebastian, who had been hanging onto their every word, chimed in.

“What’s wrong with Ravenclaws?” Emmeline demanded, turning to glare at him.

“They don’t match your sense of adventure,” Sebastian replied simply. “They’d rather bury their noses in books than use their wands.”

“Says the bloke who owns more books than anyone I know,” Emmeline said.

“There’s nothing wrong with a thirst for knowledge,” Sebastian said smoothly. “But what’s the point in all that knowledge if you aren’t going to apply it to the real world?”

Emmeline couldn’t argue with that. It was precisely why she and Sebastian had become best friends. He was smart, yet daring enough to keep her guessing. Sure, that recklessness had nearly destroyed their lives at one point, but Emmeline had been patient and understanding with Sebastian as he worked to repair his past mistakes. Since that fateful fifth year, he had proved to her that he was remorseful, and Emmeline’s fondness for her friend morphed into something much heavier.

But she would never admit that, nor did she want to discuss her dating history with him. Instead, she retreated to her best defense – the wit and snark that masked her fear of ever confessing her feelings.

“And what’s the point in having a girls’ night when you’re here?” she retorted.

Sebastian responded with a smirk. “You love me.”

“I’d love to murder you.”

“Murder?” Sebastian drawled. “Such violent thoughts from such a tiny, little thing. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Careful, Sallow,” Imelda laughed. “We’ve all seen what she can do to you in a duel.”

“And I went easy on you last time,” Emmeline added.

“You’re anything but easy,” Sebastian shot back. The room fell quiet, Emmeline’s eyes growing wide while Poppy’s mouth fell open. Sebastian regretted his words instantly, knowing damn well the girls would giggle about them and dissect them later.

Imelda, ever the bold, mouthy one of the group, was the first to bark a laugh. “You two are something else,” she said, shaking her head. Emmeline also shook her head in an attempt to appear unbothered by Sebastian’s jeer.

“Say, I have an idea,” Anne said, her eyes carrying an impish gleam. “Let’s play a game. Sebastian, you can play too if you want, considering you’re practically one of the girls.”

“Hey now!”

The girls giggled but Sebastian made no attempt to leave the room. Instead, he finished drying the final dish – the same one he’d been “drying” for the past 20 minutes – and placed it away inside a cupboard, tossing the dish towel on the counter before he pulled a chair up to the table between Anne and Emmeline.

“Fine. Since you ladies clearly insist on my presence,” he said smoothly. “What’s the game?”

“Let’s play Never Have I Ever,” Anne said innocently. She flicked her wand, another bottle of firewhiskey sailing from a cabinet until it landed neatly on the table with a soft thud. Anne flashed a grin at the circle of friends. “We’re going to need this.

Part II: Never Have I Ever

“Never have I ever bailed on detention.”

“Poppy, have you even had detention?” Sebastian laughed. The group echoed him with a warm chuckle, a signal that the firewhiskey was in full effect.

“Precisely why I’ve never bailed on it,” Poppy said proudly.

Sebastian and Natty both drank from their glasses, sparking another round of giggles.

“Of course,” Anne mused. “Sebastian’s skipped more detentions than he’s snogged girls in broom cupboards, which is really saying something.”

“And how would you know about my broom cupboard escapades?” Sebastian demanded.

“I know everything,” Anne answered, gesturing to the ring of friends around them. “I have eyes and ears everywhere.”

“More like eyes and ears in the form of a certain quidditch captain,” Sebastian muttered, shooting a pointed glance at Imelda, who straightened in her chair with a smug smile.

“Someone has to keep your sister informed on your everyday life,” she said. “Merlin knows you’ve had enough extracurriculars to entertain us all.”

Emmeline was decidedly quiet throughout the exchange. Of course, she knew of Sebastian’s illicit activities. He had become the talk among most of the girls at Hogwarts, particularly since the start of their seventh year when it had become clear that Sebastian was more of a man than a boy. Now 18, Sebastian’s features were much more handsome than cute, though he still clung to his boyish charisma.

Though Emmeline wanted to fling herself from the top of the Astronomy Tower every time she heard a new rumor about Sebastian and his latest fling, she typically kept quiet on the matter. Despite all the secrets they shared, she and Sebastian rarely discussed their love lives. It was the one element of their lives they chose to keep from one another.

Imelda’s turn came next. “Never have I ever snogged someone in a broom cupboard,” she cackled.

Sebastian groaned and took a drink. So did Emmeline.

“Who have you been snogging, and in which broom cupboard?” Sebastian demanded, setting his glass down with an audible bang.

“What’s wrong, afraid all the good cupboards will be taken?” Emmeline teased. Sebastian glowered at her, much to her satisfaction. “You aren’t the only one with secrets, Sebastian Sallow.”

Anne was the only one who noticed how Sebastian’s jaw tightened. She smiled to herself as she realized it was her turn.

“Never have I ever wanted to snog my best friend,” she declared boldly.

Imelda snorted as Sebastian and Emmeline both froze, rather noticeably. Everyone else sat, their drink glasses untouched, leaving the pair to glance nervously toward one another. Finally, Emmeline sat back and folded her arms across her chest for emphasis.

“No one?” Anne asked innocently. “Someone here must be lying.”

Emmeline averted her eyes while Sebastian stared at the table as if it had suddenly transformed into the most interesting book he’d ever read. The silence that settled over them roared with implication evident to everyone but Sebastian and Emmeline.

“Well, I suppose it’s my turn,” Sebastian finally said, shooting an annoyed glance at Anne who smiled innocently. Sebastian thought for a moment, his eyes flickering toward Emmeline for a fleeting second. “Never have I ever used Polyjuice to impersonate a headmaster.”

Emmeline gasped at his audacity, provoking a chortle from Sebastian. “I swore you to secrecy on that!” she hissed.

“It was two years ago, might as well have a good laugh about it now,” Sebastian said. He reached in front of Emmeline to nudge her drinking class closer to her. “Go on now, drink.”

Emmeline huffed at him before taking a sip. “Bastard,” she muttered before she was forced to recall the time she broke into Headmaster Black’s office. When she finished the story, she turned her head slowly toward Sebastian for emphasis. His gaze matched hers as he tried to appear unbothered, but Emmeline knew him too well. And he knew her too well, meaning he sensed payback was brewing.

She cleared her throat for dramatic effect. “Never have I ever worn my sister’s dress.”

The room paused in silent shock as the other girls processed Emmeline’s words. Finally, a burst of laughter erupted and Sebastian’s cheeks tinged red as he took a drink.

“That was one time!” he insisted, which only provoked more laughter from the girls. “I was drunk!”

Emmeline leaned back in her chair, her eyes glinting with satisfaction as Sebastian was forced to retell the time he drank too much the previous Christmas in Feldcroft and got into Anne’s wardrobe.

“In my defense, Ominis and Em were the ones egging me on,” Sebastian huffed.

“My only regret is not taking a photo to remember the moment,” Anne laughed. “Not that I could forget it if I tried.”

“Always knew you had a kinky side to you, Sallow,” Imelda teased.

The game carried on for several more rounds until the group’s drunken antics had Poppy slumping in her seat. She nearly toppled backward in a fit of giggles at something Imelda said, stirring concern from Sebastian and Emmeline, who were the most sober.

“Poppy!” Emmeline shouted as the chair tipped dangerously. “Maybe you should lie down for a bit.”

Sebastian checked his pocket watch. “It’s nearly two in the morning,” he said. “Perhaps we should all get some sleep.”

Emmeline nodded in agreement as she helped Poppy from the chair, using her wand to conjure five sleeping bags on the living room floor.

“Oh, are you and Sebastian sharing a bag?” Imelda pestered. Emmeline rolled her eyes and eased Poppy to the floor to help her inside a sleeping bag.

“As much as Sebastian would probably love nothing more than to sleep in a room surrounded by 18-year-old women, he has a room of his own,” Emmeline replied as Poppy curled up sleepily.

“Wouldn’t want you ladies fighting over who gets to sleep next to me,” Sebastian drawled.

Imelda heaved a sound of disgust as she helped Natty, who was also quite inebriated, into a sleeping bag.

“Emmeline, please do something about your boyfriend,” Imelda ordered.

“He’s not my boyfriend! He disgusts me just as much as you do!”

“Oh please, the two of you have been verbally edging each other all night. Get a room. Just make sure you use a silencing charm,” Imelda teased.

Sebastian chuckled at the girls and headed toward the staircase.

“Goodnight, my darlings!” he called before he disappeared up the stairs to retreat to his bedroom.

Emmeline slipped down the hallway to change into her pajamas before walking a lap around the cottage’s first floor, extinguishing the lights. She climbed into a sleeping bag next to Anne, who was just settling down herself.

“Thank you for planning this evening,” Anne said. Emmeline rolled onto her back, the dim cottage falling quiet except for Poppy’s light snoring.

“Of course,” Emmeline said. “I’m glad we got to have a fun girls’ night. Or girls’ night plus Sebastian.”

Anne giggled. “He just can’t help himself, can he?” she laughed. “Always has to be the center of attention.”

“I think he just likes to be included in things,” Emmeline noted, her voice falling quiet as her eyes scanned the ceiling, where she knew Sebastian was sleeping overhead. “Ever since you and Ominis let him back into your lives, he’s made it a point to spend time with you. Doesn’t want to take you for granted.”

“I know,” Anne replied softly. “I’m glad he’s worked so hard to change. And I’m glad he has you, you know. Maybe he doesn’t admit it, but you’re just as important to him as Ominis and me.”

Emmeline let out a gentle laugh. “I’ll continue to give him the dignity of believing I don’t know that. Even if the moron doesn’t deserve it.”

Anne giggled in acknowledgement. She listened to Imelda’s breathing change next to her, indicating she had also fallen asleep.

“I really am glad you didn’t give up on him, after everything that happened, after what he did,” Anne said quietly. “I like to think your support was what kept him from breaking.”

“He’s a good person, one of the best I know,” Emmeline responded. “He shouldn’t have to spend the rest of his life paying for what he did when he knows how wrong it was. He deserved a second chance and I’m always going to support that.”

“He deserves a good punch in the face sometimes, too,” Anne muttered, drawing a giggle from Emmeline.

“That, he does,” she agreed.

The pair allowed silence to settle over the room until Anne suddenly shivered.

“Are you cold?” Emmeline asked, sitting up to peer at Anne through the darkness.

“Just a little,” Anne replied. “It gets rather drafty in here.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to just sleep in your own room?” Emmeline asked. “I know you wanted to do the whole slumber party thing, but it seems silly for you to sleep here on the floor when you have a perfectly comfy bed upstairs.”

“It’s girls’ night,” Anne insisted. “I want to spend time with my best girl friends.”

“At least let me fetch you another blanket,” Emmeline said, rising to her feet.

“There’s one upstairs on my bed,” Anne answered. “Oh, and there’s a second one in the closet in Sebastian’s room.”

Emmeline paused. “You need both?”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Anne replied innocently. Emmeline nodded and crept carefully, tiptoeing around the other sleeping girls toward the staircase.

She stopped in Anne’s bedroom at the top of the stairs first, gathering a quilt from the bed before continuing down the hallway toward the last door. It was slightly ajar but the lights were out, causing her to linger in hesitation.

She stood quietly, listening carefully for a sign that Sebastian was still awake. The only sound she could hear was the snores from the living room below.

“Sebastian?” she finally whispered as she gently shouldered the door open. She poked her head inside, squinting to peer at Sebastian. He was under the covers, seemingly fast asleep.

She tread quietly toward the closet door, where she found another quilt folded on the top shelf. She stood on her tiptoes to reach it and gently pulled it downward, tucking it beneath an arm.

Sebastian stirred quietly, but didn’t react. Emmeline retreated slowly toward the door, holding her breath as if any more noise would be disastrous.

Suddenly, one of the blankets caught beneath her foot and pulled as she stepped. Emmeline stumbled, her footsteps pounding loudly on the wood floors before she finally lost her balance and toppled over with a thud.

“Who’s there?!” Sebastian sat upright, one hand fumbling over the nightstand for his wand.

“Shh! It’s me! Sebastian, it’s me!” Emmeline hissed, still sprawled out on the floor.

“Em?”

“Yes!”

“What the hell are you doing in here?”

“I was getting another blanket for Anne!”

“And you entered my bedroom unannounced?”

“You were asleep!”

“What if I’d been doing something private?”

“Ew! Were you?”

“No! I was sleeping!”

“Then what’s it matter?”

“This is my bedroom!” Sebastian squinted through the darkness as he tried to make out Emmeline’s form. “Why are you on the floor?”

“I tripped.” Emmeline managed to untangle herself from the heap of blankets and climb to her feet as Sebastian found his wand.

“Lumos!” The tip of his wand cast a warm light throughout the room, revealing Emmeline standing about three feet from the door. She couldn’t help but sneak a double-take as she realized Sebastian had been sleeping shirtless.

Sebastian swallowed. Emmeline’s pajamas revealed much more skin than he’d been accustomed to seeing from her, the neckline of her top dipping dangerously low across the tops of her breasts. He’d never seen her in her sleep attire before, their separate Hogwarts houses keeping them apart at night. Besides, whenever he pictured her in bed, she was wearing far, far less.

Meanwhile, Emmeline took in Sebastian’s tousled hair and sleepy eyes. She hated how enticing he looked, even in such a vulnerable state.

“Uh, are you okay?” Sebastian finally asked.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Okay. Is everyone else asleep?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

As the room fell quiet, Emmeline willed her feet to move. Instead, she remained rooted to her spot, as if she were looking for a reason to linger.

Sebastian watched her curiously, his own brain searching for an excuse to keep her there. “Boy, Poppy’s quite the lightweight, isn’t she?” he finally said with a soft laugh.

“She sure is,” Emmeline giggled. “To be fair, she weighs about a fraction of the rest of us.”

“I didn’t realize she was so enamored by Prewett,” Sebastian continued. Emmeline shrugged.

“I suppose you learned quite a bit from crashing girls’ night, didn’t you?” she mused.

“Positively enlightened.”

“Anything you care to share with the class?”

Sebastian masked his hesitation with a smirk. Though he didn’t consider himself to be drunk, firewhiskey had never been his friend. He’d had a fair amount that evening and it was making it more difficult than ever to quell the tightness in chest that could only be traced back to Emmeline.

Seventh year would be over before they knew it and Sebastian feared their friendship would vanish too. Emmeline was set for a position within the Ministry of Magic’s Department of Mysteries, where she hoped to become an Unspeakable. Sebastian had a position laid out for him as a cursebreaker with Gringotts. He was excited for those possibilities but terrified adulthood would drive a wedge between him and the one person he couldn’t envision a life without.

“I didn’t realize you had such high demands for your romantic partners,” he finally teased.

Emmeline narrowed her eyes at him, her lips parting in shock. “I am not demanding!” she hissed. “You take that back!”

Sebastian sat back against the headboard of the bed with his arms crossed. “Point proven,” he said smugly.

A loud snore echoed through the cottage and Sebastian couldn’t help but bark a laugh. “Was that Poppy?”

“I think that one was Imelda,” Emmeline replied as another snore cut through the room. “It’s going to be a long night.”

“Here,” Sebastian said, scooting to one side of the bed. “Just sleep here. I’ll cast a silencing charm to take care of the snoring.”

Emmeline’s hesitation was clear as she stood, her feet frozen in place as Imelda’s earlier teasing came to mind. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to join Sebastian in bed – she had daydreamed of that particular scenario more than she’d ever admit – but it was the implication, the expectation, and most of all, the temptation of what it meant.

“Come on,” Sebastian said. “I don’t bite. Unless you’re into that sort of thing. Besides, it’s not really all that different from all the times you’ve slept on my shoulder while studying.”

But it was different, and Sebastian knew it. The two of them sharing a bed in his cottage, away from the confines of the Hogwarts castle and all its propriety, would absolutely be different – especially when he wasn’t sure how he could possibly keep his hands to himself when Emmeline was next to him looking like that .

“All right, fine,” Emmeline sighed, the spare quilts forgotten on the floor. She moved slowly toward the bed, sliding next to Sebastian who still had his wand lit.

“Silencio,” he said, the room falling dark and quiet. “There, that’s better.”

Emmeline nodded quietly as Sebastian tossed his wand back on the nightstand to settle in beneath the covers. She swallowed as she fought to maintain gentle and light breaths, her chest rising as her body betrayed her. She was certain Sebastian could hear her heartbeat hammering against her ribcage.

Next to her, Sebastian was having the same thoughts. He could smell her shampoo, light and floral, and if he moved any closer, his hand would brush the silkiness of her pajamas. He wondered how that fabric would compare to the softness of her skin, or dare he think it, the velvet feel of her…

“Sebastian?”

“Huh?” Sebastian was pulled from his sinful thoughts.

“I asked if you’re alright,” Emmeline said. “You seem to be breathing heavily.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just making sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. You know, other than the fact you’re hogging all the covers.”

“I am not!” Emmeline huffed. She shoved the blanket toward Sebastian who merely chuckled. “It’s not my fault it’s freezing in here,” she said.

“It’s nearly 21 degrees,” Sebastian pointed out. “It’s plenty warm.”

“Not for me.”

“Fine, come here.” Sebastian hooked an arm around Emmeline’s waist and pulled himself closer to her as he nestled against her back. He instantly melted into her, but could feel her shoulders shift as she tensed. “This okay?” he asked, worried he had crossed a line.

“Mmhm,” she answered sleepily. “That’s better. You’re nice and warm.”

Sebastian relaxed a little and could feel Emmeline’s body do the same, though she was hyper-aware of the way his hand rested gently against her waist.

“Emmeline?” Sebastian asked quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Anne’s right, you know.” His tone was soft yet serious enough that Emmeline couldn't help but lift her head slightly from the pillow to hear him better. “I overheard the two of you earlier. What she said about you being just as important to me as her and Ominis… she’s right.”

Emmeline held her breath as he spoke and carefully mulled over a response. This was precisely what she had meant earlier when she said she wanted a romantic partner who could share meaningful conversations with her. Sebastian could be impulsive, even reckless at times, but he wore his heart on his sleeve and didn’t shy from saying how he really felt, even if it made him vulnerable to her. She always liked that about him.

“Well,” Emmeline started after drawing a shaky breath. “Despite your obnoxious eavesdropping, I meant what I said, too. You did deserve a second chance. You’re a good person and I’ll never stop having your back.”

Sebastian nuzzled the back of her neck gently, a bold move that made Emmeline’s breath hitch. “I like having your back for a change,” he murmured. He knew he was potentially risking everything – their friendship and her trust, but years of longing and suppression had become too unbearable to endure any further for him. He had to know if he stood even the slightest chance at the rare privilege it would be to touch her.

“You sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable in a broom cupboard?” she quipped.

“Sounds like I’m not the only one who finds them rather cozy,” he murmured into her ear, his breath warm against her skin.

Emmeline knew him too well. She could sense the push in his voice, testing her to see how she’d react and how far she was willing to let him go. She decided that enough was enough – she had been drained by the past few years she’d spent practicing poise and self-control when it came to him, stifling all her impulses and redirecting her feelings to boys who would never measure up. If Sebastian was going to tempt her, she was going to ace his tests.

She whipped her body around so that she was facing him, startling Sebastian who tensed. She could feel it in the way he was subconsciously gripping her hip.

“Just curious,” she cooed softly. “Which broom cupboard is your favorite? Is it the one in the dungeons near the Slytherin Common Room? Seems like you might appreciate the convenience in location. I find that one a bit too snug to move around in, though. Perhaps you’re more of a fan of the cupboard in the North Hall, near the History of Magic classroom? That one’s nice and secluded, especially if you make a lot of noise.”

“Emmeline,” Sebastian warned.

“Personally, I think my favorite’s the little room in the Clock Tower Entrance,” Emmeline continued. “Ever been in that one? I showed that one to Amit after Crossed Wands once – we spent a good hour in there, but I don’t think he appreciated it as much as I did.”

Sebastian had to grit his teeth. He didn’t want to think about her doing those things with someone else, but the notion that she was willing and capable of them made him tense, particularly below the waist.

“So which is it?” Emmeline pressed. “Which is your favorite?”

“I like the one off the Reception Hall, near the kitchens,” Sebastian replied through clenched teeth. “Easy to get to and convenient if you work up an appetite.”

Emmeline’s eyes widened at his remark but her lips formed a seductive smirk. “Oh, I wasn’t aware of that one,” she purred innocently. “Perhaps someone will show me someday.”

“Perhaps.”

“Is it spacious? I don’t like when I have to stand the entire time.”

Sebastian sucked in a sharp breath. “Merlin, Emmeline. You’re killing me.”

“Whatever do you mean, Seb?” Emmeline asked, still feigning naivety.

“Stop making this so hard on me.”

Emmeline shifted, her hips pressing gently against Sebastian’s. “Oh, you weren’t kidding about the hard part.”

“I’m going to hex you.” Sebastian growled.

“Fine. Just wait until we’re done and make it worth my while.”

Sebastian was certain he had to be dreaming. Emmeline – his Emmeline, was practically throwing herself at him, daring him to take a chance. And Sebastian was a true Slytherin – ambitious, cunning and determined to get the things he wanted. He didn’t let chances escape his grasp.

He kissed her. He could feel the breath of air she sucked in through her nose when their lips met, her eyes fluttering shut as she returned it. Sebastian wasn’t sure what this would all mean come morning, but the hunger in her kisses made it clear that she wasn’t in the mood to worry about it.

Bed sheets rustled and hands grabbed at whatever skin was exposed. Hearts raced as both realized they were about to satiate their biggest fantasy. Sebastian’s hands roamed beneath Emmeline’s top, brushing over her stomach and down her sides until his fingers found the hem. He pulled away, his eyes heavy as he tugged the shirt upward. His lips found her neck, drawing a soft moan from her.

“Seems I’ve found a sensitive spot,” he murmured against her skin. He left a trail of kisses from her neck to her collarbone, ending between her breasts.

The darkness made it difficult for Emmeline to see much, but she could certainly feel. Sebastian’s hands were everywhere, yet it still wasn’t enough for her. As she rolled onto her back, Sebastian paused to kiss her again, sparking more impatience from her. She could feel the familiar swell of heat that only happened when she thought of Sebastian late at night, alone in her bed, her own fingers forced to mimic Sebastian’s.

Emmeline lifted her hips as Sebastian tugged her bottoms off, followed by her panties. She silently praised whatever higher power was responsible for Sebastian’s impatience too.

Sebastian’s fingers dragged between her thighs, over her slick entrance. The moment was fleeting and she whimpered a plea for more. Sebastian obliged her as his index and middle finger made contact with her core again. He rubbed her until her breath became a heavy pant and her hips rocked upward demanding more.

A loud moan carried through the room as Sebastian’s fingers disappeared inside her, the wetness immediately coating them. He curled a finger and Emmeline gasped, her submission making his cock stir.

“Fuck, Em. You’re so fucking perfect,” Sebastian whispered, his eyes roaming her body in the moonlight that poured through the window.

“And you’re… overdressed.”

Sebastian flashed a smirk and moved to remove his own remaining garments, kneeling over Emmeline once he was rid of them. Emmeline couldn’t help but stare at his form. He was fully erect, the length of his cock proudly anticipating her touch.

She wasn’t sure how she was going to take all of it, but she was damn sure she’d die trying.

A groan escaped Sebastian’s lips as Emmeline gently took him in her hand, gently tracing from the base to his tip. He twitched, his arousal unlike any he’d experienced.

“Emmeline,” he breathed as her mouth engulfed him. He could feel her tongue flatten against his shaft, slowly running over every vein and ridge with deliberation. “Emmeline,” he repeated, his eyes squeezed shut. The sight alone of her lips wrapped around him was enough to nudge him to the edge. “I don’t think I can take it.”

He hated that confession. As much as he loved this girl and would willingly follow any order she asked of him, his pride remained firm. He didn’t want her to think he was incapable of pleasing her, of lasting long enough to ensure she was good and finished. But this moment, this feeling, had consumed his free thoughts for so long, there was no way he could remain composed much longer.

Emmeline removed her mouth from him, her smirk indicating the satisfaction she felt from the power she clearly held over him.

“You may not be able to take it,” she said, eyeing his cock pointedly, “But I can.”

Sebastian decided she was going to be the death of him, but at least he’d die a happy man.

Emmeline straightened up to rest back on her heels, her eyes maintaining their challenging gaze. “What do you want me to do to you?” she asked, her voice husky with desire.

Sebastian chewed at the inside of his cheek. No girl had ever asked him that. It made his cock pulse. “I want you to do whatever’s going to make you moan my name,” he replied.

Emmeline couldn’t believe she was lucky enough to exist in the same world as Sebastian Sallow.

“On your back,” she ordered. Sebastian, who typically preferred to be the assertive and dominant party in such situations, obliged. He was too eager to please, and to discover that sweet, supreme moment when she’d cry out his name and show him how she looked when she experienced ultimate pleasure.

As she climbed over him, her legs straddling either side of his torso, his hands snapped instinctively to her hips. His fingers gripped her tightly, drawing a shaky laugh from her.

“Careful,” she mewed as she positioned herself above him. “Can’t have you leaving any marks.”

Before Sebastian could form a smart reply, her wet heat met the tip of his cock as she lined him up against her entrance.

“Fucking hell.” Sebastian exhaled slowly, his jaw and eyes clenched tight as he welcomed the feeling of her warmth stretching around him. She seemed to be moving at a glacial pace as she eased herself downward.

“God, Sebastian,” Emmeline breathed. She had to still herself for a moment, her open palms resting against his bare chest as she stretched to accommodate him. She rocked backward slightly to straighten upward, the tiny movement forcing Sebastian to swallow.

“I love you,” he blurted out. If it hadn’t been for the absolute ecstasy currently coursing through his cock, he would have Avada Kedavra’d himself on the spot. Leave it up to him to say something so utterly stupid during the most exciting moment of his life.

Emmeline paused, her eyes wide with disbelief as her gaze met Sebastian’s.

“Really?” she asked.

There was no going back now. “Of course,” Sebastian replied, annoyed at himself for provoking a life-altering conversation mid-sex. “Hasn’t exactly been a secret these past few years.”

“Oh.” Emmeline held her position, stunned at the revelation, though the feeling of Sebastian lingering inside her was difficult to ignore for long. “Well, I love you too,” she finally said. “But given how I covered up a murder for you, stuck by you for two years and threw myself at you tonight, that shouldn’t be a secret either.”

“...Oh. Well when you put it that way…”

“Yeah.”

“Guess I should have told you then, huh?”

“Would’ve saved us both a lot of trouble, it seems.”

“Sure would have.”

“Hey, Sebastian?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we have this conversation later? As thrilled as I am to hear you finally confess your love for me, I’m going to spontaneously combust if you don’t shut up and fuck me.”

“Oh. Right.”

They shared a quiet laugh, but Emmeline’s eyes quickly darkened as her thoughts returned to a sinful state, the feeling of Sebastian’s tip pressing against the soft flesh inside her.

She moved slowly at first, rocking her hips up and down to ensure she’d found the spot. The moan that fell from her lips confirmed it, and Sebastian’s grip remained rigid on the flesh of her hip bones as if it were steadying him.

In truth, he was desperately fighting his own body’s response to the euphoric feeling Emmeline was creating for him.

“Feels so good,” she panted as her pace quickened. Her eyes fluttered shut so she could focus on the sensations, which were building an inevitable wave of pleasure in her walls.

Sebastian could feel her wetness pooling at the base of his cock, her slick cunt gripping his shaft as she moved up and down. He wanted to move more, to show her how capable he was in the bedroom, but he was fearful he’d fuck himself into an embarrassing moment. He wanted to prove to her he was worthy of this privilege.

As Emmeline lifted herself upward again, Sebastian forced his own hips upward, evoking a surprised moan from her. He slammed himself inside her again, causing her to hover over him so that he could control their movements. He fucked her with determination, his cock railing against the spot that threatened to unravel her.

She could feel it building, sensed it ballooning in the form of a tiny twitch that would soon erupt into a full convulsion. “Don’t stop,” she begged through ragged breaths, her head tossed backward as the force of Sebastian’s thrusts made her breasts bounce.

“Sebastian, I’m going to-” She couldn’t complete the sentence as she heaved a cry, all of her weight settling down as she collapsed around Sebastian’s cock, her orgasm pulsating around him.

The sensation was new territory for Sebastian, her walls beckoning him with their quaking until a familiar throbbing coursed through his cock.

He released himself inside her with a grunt, the sensation prolonged as she continued to bounce on him to ensure they both were fucked to completion. When he had no more to spill, Emmeline stopped, her full weight still on top of him as she recovered.

“Bloody hell,” Sebastian breathed as the room returned to focus, the moonlight shifting from blurred lines to a sharp focus that shined a spotlight on Emmeline’s body still perched on top of him.

“All right?” Emmeline asked, her chest rising and falling as she panted.

“Never better.”

Emmeline managed to breathe a laugh before she climbed off of Sebastian, returning to her sleeping spot next to him.

Sebastian pulled her close so that he could appreciate the feeling of her sweaty skin, sticky yet warm.

“We should have girls’ night more often,” he mumbled happily.

In the living room beneath them, Anne pulled a blanket around herself, smiling as she drifted off to sleep.

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