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alocon · 3 months

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Business As Usual - Lance Stroll

written by alocon

Summary: Lance meets a lovely business woman and decides to drop some game with the help from the community

Before you read: Fluff, Lance being nice, Lance is underrated - I do not want Lance Stroll hate here pls, Quickly written, not edited so sorry if it isn't great x, This is basically some backstory just in case I decide to turn it into a SMAU series!!

Genre: Fluff, some social media at the end

fc: Tess Holloway for profile picture, faceless blondes from Pinterest

[The Masterlist]

Business as Usual - LS18

You walked through the woods, heading towards the isolated little river that you sat by whenever you felt overwhelmed. As you approached the opening in the trees, you saw a figure, someone sat down on the rock next to the one that you normally say at. You shrugged to yourself, not really caring if someone else was there, he seemed quiet and you could still unwind. As if he could sense a presence, he turned, looking at you. You sent him a gentle smile, walking over and sitting on the rock that sat beside the one he was on.

“Do you mind? This is my spot,” he said, sounding rather frustrated at the new presence.

“Well it's my spot too, so I'm going to quietly enjoy it,” you responded, not really in the mood for another argument that day. He seemed to accept that, groaning rather dramatically before accepting it and going quiet.

You watched as the river flowed gently, the crystal-clear water meandering gracefully between rocks. You could see the pebbles below the water, laying contently on the river bed, some adorned with moss which had slowly covered more and more pebbles over time. The sound of running water and gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze subdued the loud sounds in your brain, allowing you to shut everything that you were feeling out. The fragrant scent of wildflowers and mud filled your senses as you breathed in, causing a sigh of content to leave your mouth. The natural canopy provided by the trees above allowed you to sit there calmly, shading the sun from your face and body as you watched the ripples of the water.

You heard a gasp and sudden movement from the man sat beside you. You looked in his direction, looking into his eyes and following his eyesight to the creature that had landed by him and startled him so much. You started laughing softly. “It's not funny, don't laugh.”

“You're scared of a tiny little frog?” You asked, leaning over to pick it up. “Hi little buddy.” You spoke gently to the frog as it sat contently in your hand, bringing it up to eye level with you and looking at it. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the man sit back down. “Do you want to hold him?”

He was silent, so you looked up at him, seeing the anxious look in his eyes. “What if I hurt it? I don't want to do that.”

You smiled softly. “You trust me?”

He thought for a moment before gently nodding. “I guess, why?”

You signalled for him to hold out his hand, which he did, before gently moving your hand over so the frog could move onto him. You watched as his brown eyes softened, his mouth turning into a grin as he held the tiny creature in his hand. “It’s kind of cute…”

“I hope this doesn't sound weird but may I take a photo of it in your hand? Your face won't be in the picture, of course, but I like infodumping about animals, plants, buildings and history on my Instagram pages that I'm an admin on.”

“Pages, plural?”

“Yes, I have 2. One for nature and history and I have one where I post personal stuff.” He nodded, before allowing you to take some photos. You did, answering his questions about the type of frog as you took photos, him offering to take one of you holding it afterwards, which you gladly accepted. Placing your camera back in your bag after turning it off, you looked back at him as he spoke again. You placed the frog on your knee, luckily having chosen to wear shorts so your clothes weren't getting dirty from the little creature that rested contently on you.

“Why do you come here?”

“It's… an escape.” He looked at you, his expression unreadable so you continued talking. “When everything gets too loud, when family gets overwhelming, when work is stressful, it's nice to be able to escape here and just listen to the breeze and the water, the trees. It's all just so calming. What about you?”

He nodded, understanding exactly where you came from. “Same.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

He pondered your question for a moment before he decided to explain. “Where I work… people can be quite harsh sometimes. It's like I can never do anything without people hating me. They call me a nepo baby.” He paused, chuckling bitterly. “I know that it sounds stupid, getting frustrated over it, but people always say I don't deserve my job, that the only reason I'm here is because of nepotism. It's mental.” He sighed, looking in your direction, eyes scanning you. “What about you? What's going on with you?”

“My dad, well, step dad's trying to convince me to give him my business now that it's successful. Just like handing it over to him willingly. He invited me over to ask me to willingly give up the thing I built from the ground up.”

“Really? Why would he do that?”

You lifted your hands up, making quotation marks with your hands. “Women shouldn't run businesses, they should marry, have kids and stay at home doing housework.” He snorted, thinking you were joking. “I'm serious.”

“People still think like that?” He looked confused, watching as you nodded, sighing in response to that. Unfortunately, some people were still like that. And it pissed you off a lot.

“Unfortunately, I always wondered why mama willingly gave up working despite absolutely loving her job after they got married.” You shrugged. “He won’t be getting my company though. No way in hell. He only wants it for the money.” You paused, checking your phone. “Speaking of my business. I’ve got a business meeting party thing tonight so I will have to go.”

“It was lovely meeting you.” He smiled at you as you placed the frog on the rock, picking up your tote bag and heading out.

You went straight home, thinking that he looked familiar but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Sat in your hotel room, you decided to paint a bit before you headed for the business event. You wore quite a basic smart casual outfit - some white pants with a green shirt and matching blazer. Your hair was left down and you wore some basic makeup, not feeling like going over the top.

Stepping into the venue, you sighed. This was something you didn’t love about running a business. Sure, you enjoyed the small delicacies and the free wine you got all evening, but you couldn’t stand the large handful of males who decided that you, a woman, couldn’t understand basic terminology so would spend the entire time mansplaining to you. Usually, you’d bring a friend, but being in Canada, away from your main place of residence, you didn’t really have anyone to bring. So you wandered around the venue quietly, other than stopping to say hi to people as you passed them, champagne in hand. That was until you saw a white-haired man approach you.

He smiled, seeming rather friendly. He held out his hand. “Hi. Miss Martins, yes?” You nodded. “It's lovely to meet you, I'm Lawrence Stroll.” You shook his hand, smiling back. “Your step-father said that you're here on behalf of his business?”

You shook your head. “Martins Associates?”

“That's my business, not Anthony's,” you said, leading to a look of confusion on his face. “He's been trying to convince me to hand over my business to him willingly now it's doing well.”

“Oh, well I am very sorry if I insulted you there, dear. I genuinely had no idea.”

“No, it's perfectly fine. Has he been telling everyone this?”

Lawrence nodded. “Want me to go have words with the owner of this?”

“I’m meant to be talking later, so I’ll just bring it up then.”

You and Lawrence continued to talk, making friendly conversation. He talked a lot about his son, you realised. You didn’t mind, though. You didn’t usually know what to talk about. He explained about how his son is a Formula One driver and how he was super proud of him and how far he’s come over the years. He then looked around before waving somebody over. Your eyes turned from Lawrence to the person who was being waved over. When you glanced at the familiar man who you had spent time with earlier that day, you smiled. His face twisted from a look of boredom to one of relief, likely at someone he had noticed, someone who wasn’t an old man. “Y/N, this is my son, Lance Stroll. Lance, this is Miss Martins, she runs Martins Associates.”

“Miss Martins. It is very lovely to see you again.” Lance lifted your hand gently, placing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Please, call me Y/N, Mr Stroll.”

“Alright, and you can call me Lance, of course.” His dad excused himself so he turned back to you, a gentle smile on his face. “May I get you a drink?”

The rest of the night went by pretty quickly. You had done your little talk, making it very clear at the start that you owned your business, not your step-father. You then spent the rest of your evening with your new Canadian friend, who you found out also lived in Switzerland, relatively close to you as well. However, eventually, your conversation wrapped up and you had to head home to catch your plane back.

----

instagram

youruser

liked by lance_stroll and others

youruser Canada was lovely, home time now x

-view all comments-

mickschumacher: Hello???? The painting??????

mickschumacher: You're so talented PLEASE youruser: THANK YOU MICK!!

yourbff: You beautiful, beautiful woman. I miss you, hurry back to Switzerland xx

youruser: Of course, my love. Will come and see you as soon as I land yourbff: Thank you, darling youruser: ofc, anything for my wife x

lance_stroll: Safe travels back!! Maybe we could meet up when you're next free?

user1: Hey Lance! Thank you for fixing world hunger! user2: Lance, you amazing man, remember when you picked up that bus with your bare hands to stop it from hitting me? Thanks for that, buddy, you're a real one user3: Lance, thank you for landing my airplane safely that one time. estebanocon: Bonjour Lance, thank you for saving my cat from being abducted by aliens that one time!!! -175 more comments-

youruser: Oh my lord what is going on in my comments 😭

youruser: also @ lance_stroll, message me and we will plan something.

lance_stroll: Yes ma'am, will do x user1: HE DID IT! OUR BOY ACTUALLY DID IT landonorris: LETSGOOOO

youruser added to her story!

-and 8 more-

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habitatsandhistory

📍 Montreal, Canada

liked by lance_stroll and others

habitatsandhistory: Today, we stumbled across a pseudacris crucifer, known more commonly as a Spring Peeper! These small tree frogs from the Hylidae family are found in woodland areas of the Eastern states of the USA and Canada. They are usually grey, tan or olive brown with an x-shaped, often irregular, brown mark on it's back. They grow to a length of between 2.5 and 3 cm in size!

This little guy was found by the river on slide 5, when it jumped up onto a nearby rock and I couldn't resist getting a photo of it! Feel free to follow for more history and nature facts!

-view all comments-

lance_stroll: Wowwww who's hand is that in the second photo? Must be someone pretty cool

youruser: They were alright, I guess. Not as cool as the person in the first photo

-Word Count: Around 1.5k not including socials-

Hi All, Next chapter of MV1 will hopefully be out in the next week, I have had some writers block though so my apologies for that. Hope you're all well. Here is a Lance story, it is unedited tho so pls give feedback. I used tweetgen for the tweets and used canva to make the instagram page and post Have a lovely day x Alocon

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as-is-above-so-below · 1 year

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i would physically break my bones if you wrote a little thing about simon waking up with joanie in the night 🥹

Thunder

I take your Simon waking up with Joanie, and raise you Mama Freyja waking up with her :D (p.s. Simon holds his babies like this, and you can't tell me otherwise) << Previous | Next >>

Freyja flinched at the sharp cry as the monitor on her nightstand crackled to life following a loud boom of thunder. She stayed still momentarily, waiting to see if Joan would lull herself back to sleep as she patted Arthur’s back.

After a brief break, assumingly where Joanie allowed herself to take a breath, the wailing presumed.

Simon’s hand trailed up her thigh, his thumb dragging across her hip. He was awake, as always during nighttime feedings, but had been laying down while she fed and burped their son. “Do you want me to get her?” he asked, leaning into her shoulder and nuzzling her neck now that he had pushed himself up.

She smiled softly at the gentle kisses against her throat, pressing into them. “No, I’ll handle it. Take Artie?”

“I’ll finish with ‘im downstairs.” Simon shifted Art from her lap, laying the baby, stomach down, across his forearm with his head up toward his elbow. His feet landed on either side of his big hand, engulfing one of his chunky little thighs. “Alright, pup, time for a little father-son bonding,” he whispered, and his footsteps disappeared out of the room and down to the kitchen.

Freyja followed shortly after, her slippers scuffing as she barely picked up her tired feet. Joanie’s nursery was right next to theirs, making the walk short. When the door creaked open at her presence, the toddler’s sobbing softened but continued as she reached over the wall of her crib, little fingers making grabby hands in Frey’s direction.

“Mumma!”

“Hi baby,” she whispered, smiling softly as she approached the bed. “What happened? Did the thunder wake you up?”

She carefully drew her fingers through the baby’s delicate curls, taking care to detangle any knots she found. Frey had noticed that her once tight ringlets were losing their body, and starting to melt into loose waves. She had a sneaking suspicion that their daughter’s hair would eventually forgo all of its texture and end up pin-straight. At least then, it would be more manageable.

Joan jerked her head away with a whine, pouty lip jutting out as she bounced with her knees. The frustrated display and the look on her chubby little face would’ve been funny if Freyja weren’t so tired. She pointed outside of her bed, “Gaz frug.”

Gazzy was Joan’s beloved stuffed frog, clad with a baseball cap with a Union Jack patch on the front. One could take a wild guess at who Gazzy the frog came from. And there he was, just next to Freyja’s feet. She bent down with a soft hum, plucking her lovie off the floor. “You kicked Gazzy out! What happened?” she asked, bopping the toddler with it.

Even with her friend returned, Joanie pouted again and held her arms up, making grabby fingers with her free hand. “Up, Mumma,” she whimpered, her big brown eyes pleading.

Not very eager to deny a request at three o’clock in the morning, Freyja grabbed her soft felt blanket (courtesy of Mrs. MacTavish) from the bottom of her crib and draped it around her daughter. Joan automatically wrapped her arms around her mum’s neck as she lifted the baby to her chest, one arm under her and the other hand guiding her head to her shoulder.

Her hair still smelt like her baby shampoo from her bedtime bath. Frey inhaled the scent, placing gentle kisses against her baby’s temple at the same time. Neither she nor Simon had a tendency to get annoyed with their babies waking up throughout the night. Freyja was thrilled every instance she was able to comfort her children. She always told herself that every time Joan or Artie cried for them was a reminder of how loved and needed they were.

And if that meant getting up at three o’clock in the morning just to hold her daughter, then so be it.

“I love you, baby.”

“I lub you, Mumma.”

824 notes · View notes

elliesmainhoe · 1 year

Text

PROFESSOR

Professor!Ellie X CollegeStudent!Reader

Summary: After Dina forced you to go to her new physics teachers public lecture, you start developing feelings for the professor.

Contents: LEGAL age gap (21 year old reader and 29 year old Ellie), fem!reader, reader is a blunt person and says what she thinks, pining, anxiety, panic attack, confessions, kisses.

Part 1 (you're here) - Part 2 - Part 3

Requested by @lonelyfooryouonly 🧡

My Masterlist

Dina had told you about her physics teacher. She complained constantly about the old man, who droned on and on about the same shit for hours on end, providing no new information of any substance to his students.

That's why on a random Friday afternoon, Dina rushed into the busy café you frequent and taking a be-line for your usual table.

"oh my god. Y/n." Dina practically yelled making several people turn around from there conversations glaring at the brunette. "This is the best day of my life~" she squealed ecstatically.

"Jesus Christ Dina, a little warning next time please?" As your heart pounded at the sudden appearance of the girl. "You spooked me" you laughed. "So what's up"

"Mr.Robinson retired!!!" She screeched, sitting down on the chair opposite you, laughing at your unamused expression.

"Fucking finally, I was so done of you complaining about that asshole" you muttered between sips of coffee.

" and our new physics teacher is having a weekly lecture starting this Saturday. And I was wondering if you would go tomorrow with me?" She continued deciding to ignore your comment.

"Why don't you go with Jesse? One, he's your boyfriend. Two, he takes physics as well."

"Can't I want to spend time with my best friend?"

"cmon, Dina, what's the deal?" You sigh helplessly.

"ugh fine" she moaned "I heard through the grape vine that the new professor is a woman, hot and a lesbian. And since I know you and your innocent, virgin ways, I was thinking you could... y'know?"

"Let me get this straight" you scoffed, rolling your eyes at the irony of the saying "you want to set me up with a rumoured lesbian, who's probably going to be double if not triple my age?" "Yes, yes I am" Dina smiled sweetly, laughing at the expression on your face.

"no I'm not going."

•••••••••• Saturday, 11th March.

You stood Infront of the closed door that lead into the lecture hall. In usual Dina fashion, she was late, and you were early. You had looked through the small glass pane and peered around the room, a few people were scattered around in the rows of seats. The new professor didn't seem to be in there yet .

If you were completely honest you didn't know why you were here and how your definitive no turned into a reluctant yes.

A flurry of brunette hair rushed towards you, "I'm so sorry, y/n, I got caught up" she panted, out of breath from running from across campus. "Yeah, I noticed." You said bluntly, your eyes following Dina's clumsy form as she swung open the lecture hall door.

She ushered you into the last row of seats, shushing you when you went to complain.

"Shhh, just get out your laptop and pretend your working." "Or I can actually work? I have an essay due on Monday." "Yes, whatever, do that then."

You got out your laptop, clad in stickers, including a few rainbow and lesbian flags, frogs, books, plants and band logos plastered all over it.

You opened up the word document named Analysing the use of language in 'a midsummer night's dream by William Shakespeare'. it currently stands at 2500 words, 500 words away from your goal. Before your hands fell into rhythm across the keyboard. The creak of the door sounded out around the room.

Instinctively you looked over at the door. A very attractive woman began walking down to the front, her hair was short and in a light shade of brown, her skin was sun kissed, freckles dotted along her facial features like constellations. There was a pair of glasses resting on her head, smoothing down some loose strands that fell free from her ponytail. She wore dress pants, and a knitted black and white striped sweater, with simple black doc martens boots.

As soon as she reached the front of the room, her voice sounded out, echoing around the room "Good Afternoon everyone, thank you for taking time out of your weekend to willingly chose to come to a physics lecture. This is the first public lecture I will be holding this semester, and depending on how it goes and how many people attend, I will continue it next semester also."

"Right let me answer some questions I know what your probably thinking. Yes, I know I'm young for a professor, and I'm 29 years old before you start speculating" she spoke with a lighthearted playful tone of voice, captivating you even more.

"My full name is Dr. Ellie Williams, but please just call me Ellie, Miss Williams makes me feel ancient. I have just achieved my PHD, but I've been doing guest lectures for a few years so I'm decently experienced."

She took a few questions, but you weren't paying attention to her words, she was beautiful. The way the sun filtered through the blinds and shadowing patterns in the golden sun that fell upon her freckled skin. Her voice was smooth and deep, soft and alluring, holy fuck Dina was right. She was hot, but was she a lesbian..?

A smothered giggle distracted you from your silent onlooking, you turned towards Dina, and rolled your eyes at the girl whose hand covered her mouth trying to stifle the laugh that involuntarily out of her lips.

"Shut up"

"you love me y/n~" she cooed sarcastically.

"unfortunately" you said under your breath, loud enough for Dina to hear, as a false expression of astonishment and offence fell on her face, making a laugh slip through your lips, much to your dismay.

•••••••••• Saturday, 18th March.

You and Dina walked towards the lecture hall, with a straggler in tow. "Does Jesse really have to come with us?" You whine in Dina's ear pathetically "I don't want to see you guys oogling at each other for two hours" you complain.

"Y'know, you could always sit a bit closer to the front, get a better view of Miss Williams." Jesse joked. "She said that she didn't like being called 'Miss Williams'.' Jesse scoffed "yeah of course you know that"

Deciding to ignore the comment, and walk ahead of the dawdling couple. You lived with them already and you didn't need to see them sending heart eyes to eachother any more than you had to. You finally reached the doors to the familiar lecture hall.

Stopping for Jesse and Dina to catch up to you before you rush into the room, nerves turning to excitement as you scurry into the room. Dina and Jesse filed into the back row again, holding hands and slipping in and out of lovey dovey giggles. No thank you.

Deciding to move closer and shuffling into a seat in the corner of the second row to the front. You brought out your sticker smothered laptop again and worked on a new assignment your English professor had assigned.

"Good Morning Everyone" Ellie chirped as she entered the hall, walking down the steps towards her desk. She wore a white muscle tee, a button-up over the top, left slightly open, she wore simply black pants and the same docmartens.

"Right. Okay... Let's get started everyone" compared to the week before, the amount of people who decided to attend the lecture had almost doubled. Ellie began talking, cracking jokes between facts and equations.

You continued to be mesmerized by her swift movements as she explained certain topics that came up on her pre planned PowerPoints. You didn't like physics, your mind simply couldn't wrap around the complex hypotheticals and various equations. But God did you find Ellie attractive. You didn't mind watching the woman's focused face and commanding voice, talk and explain problems and theories.

Shit.

••••••••••• Wednesday, 22 March

This is the worst day you've ever had the misfortune of experiencing.

First, you woke up on your period, after dosing yourself up on paracetamol and shoving a few tampons in your bag before leaving your's, Dina's and Jesse's, shared apartment.

Second, after ordering your usual latte from the coffee shop you regular, just off campus. The takeaway coffee cups, lid hadn't been put on properly and oops, your new pastel blue dress was now had a large coffee stain right down it.

Third, on your way to your first lecture of the day, it started raining, drenching your hair and soaking the newly spilt coffee into your dress further.

You felt the build up of emotions bubble in your stomach, the overstimulation making everything so so much worse. Quickly, to try and escape the pouring rain, you took shelter in an on-campus book shop. You hid in the corner of the room sitting on a lone couch, as you let the tears fall freely down your face.

Lips wobbling as you tried your hardest to keep the sobs at bay. Fuck. You hated your period. You hated stupid rain. You hated lukewarm coffee. You hated early morning lectures. You hate-

"Hey." A soft voice met your ears, "are you alright?".

You didn't look up, trying your hardest to calm yourself down and not humiliating yourself anymore than you already had.

"yes. M'fine." You muttered.

"It was more of rhetorical question... Can I sit down?..."

"Sure" you whispered, keeping your voice low so it didn't crack.

"You come to my public lectures, don't you?"

What.

The.

Fuck.

No no no no no no no no no no no no.

This can't happen, there is no fucking way that your stupid, stupid, crush is now talking to you while you have a mental breakdown.

Ellie was extremely worried, looking at your hunched over form, now gone rigid at her question. You were pretty, and Ellie's eyes couldn't resist drifting towards you, in your pretty dresses and knitted sweaters.

"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." She whispered, when you didn't reply. "I'll leave you be"

"no."

Your hoarse voice replied before she could leave. "Oh okay... Bad day then?"

"you have no idea" you sniffed looking up at Ellie for the first time, through your wet eyelashes. She looked at the fresh coffee stain on your dress "I have a small idea" she laughed lightly.

She began to shed her coat, handing towards you. "Here take it... Should keep you warm until you dry off, and it'll cover the stain." She smiles at you.

You sit up straighter, wrapping the coat around your shoulders "thanks" you sniffed again, before wiping your nose on the sleeve of you jumper. "What's your name?" Ellie asks, looking at your tear stained face.

"Y/N..." You mumbled, her gaze hot on your face and you sink into yourself.

"That's a pretty name... What do you study?" You knew what she was trying to do, ask you questions to distract you from your tears, and it worked.

"I study English language"

"well, what are you reading right now?"

Shit shit shit. Right be discreet, tell her your gay discreetly. Jack Fucking Pot!!!!!

"Last night at the telegraph club..."

"oh cool... I'm uh- I'm uh reading 'one last stop" she replied a smile slipping into her face.'

"Nice." You say, an awkward grin gracing your features. "Uhm, it was really nice talking to you, I should give you your coat bac-"

"No. Keep it... You can give it back on Saturday."

"yes, yes...I'll- I'll do that." You get up reluctantly, but you did have a place to be... "Bye Ellie" "See you soon, Y/N."

••••••••• Saturday, 25th March

You were absolutely terrified. More terrified than you ever had been in your whole life. You wore a rainbow shirt, denim skirt and basic black converse, with Ellie's brown coat tucked under your arm as you walked on your own to the lecture hall.

Dina and Jesse were out on a date, leaving you to fend for yourself today. You were debating whether or not to actually go or to chicken out. But ultimately, you decided that you would feel too guilty if you didn't give it back on time as you promised.

So you tried to carry on like normal, entering the lecture hall five minutes early, slotting into the corner of the second row, taking out your personalized laptop and opening up the current assignment you had been working on.

A few minutes later a creak of a door followed by a 'Good Morning everyone.' as the older woman walked towards her desk briskly. She immediately began talking, taking questions and answering as best she could. It was incredible, how she talked with so much passion and understanding for her subject, the way she smiled when a student showed a similar amount of intrigue and fascination that she did.

Ellie was a great teacher. She was so lovely, talking to her students like they were humans, showing and explaining theories in different ways so there was more opportunities for those watching to understand. The way she acted, her kindness, her laugh, her humour, it made the uneasy feeling in your stomach increase every second.

Before you knew it, the two hours had been and went and people began to file out, talking and laughing with eachother. You stayed seated waiting until less people were around before you got up and scurried towards her desk.

"Here." You blurted out, handing the brunette her leather brown coat. "Thank you Y/N." She hummed in reply.

"uh no problem, I wasn't going to steal your jacket, that would be rude" you said, immediately thinking to yourself 'no fucking shit, that was an idiotic thing to say'

"so y/n. Why did you decide to come to my lecture? Physics is a big leap from English"

"my friend Dina takes your subject, she wanted to drag me along to kinda see what you were like before her first official class with you."

'A+ lie right there' you thought to yourself proudly. I mean you couldn't exactly say 'my friend has wanted me to hook up with someone for months now and she heard you were attractive and liked girls'.

"Dina... So I'm assuming it's you're last year in university then?",

"uh yeah. Two semesters left..." God. this was so awkward. Fuck your lack of ability to understand social cues.

You looked at Ellie's face, studying it and seeing a hesitant expression written on her face. "I was, uh, wondering how you were doing?... I mean I couldn't stop thinking about the other day and I just, wanted to make sure you were alright..."

"Oh... That's actually really nice of you. Uhm I'm doing okay, I got just very overwhelmed. It happens a lot but I mask I usually mask it better. I don't really know what came over me"

"no no no. I totally get it, I just y'know worry..." She gave a shy smile, her face slightly flushed, not really knowing what else to say.

"just know I'm always here to talk. I can give you my number? if you ever wanted to call me up and talk about things." "Yeah, yeah I'd really like that actually"

Ellie turned back to her desk, grabbing a pad of sticky notes, writing a string of numbers and doing a small doodle in the corner before giving it to you. "thanks, Ellie" you hummed, turning around quickly and scurrying out of the room, note in hand.

•••••••••• Sunday, 2nd April

You didn't call Ellie. You didn't text Ellie. You didn't even show up to her last lecture, despite Dina's pleading.

Confused. That's what you were, so fucking confused. You really, really liked Ellie. You'd only seen her a few times. She was sweet, kind, beautiful, hot and caring. But she was a professor, not your professor but still, she worked for the college you attended. And you were a student.

What in the forbidden romance trope is this? This isn't a romcon or a novel. If you started flirting with Ellie, or Ellie started flirting with you, she could get fired. Her whole livelihood down the drain just like that. Yes, it was legal. But, if it got out, people would view it suspiciously and rumours would start going around.

But you were overthinking. What if Ellie didn't even like you at all? Just gave you her number out of courtesy, feeling sorry for you after witnessing you cry.

Feelings are so useless. This is why you didn't do this type of stuff, you didn't date, didn't hook up with anyone, because it was easy, no emotional conflict, no feelings getting hurt. And now, you had been thrown into the deep end. Crushing on someone seemingly unattainable. Thanks Dina.

"y'know, if you stop sulking in bed and actually texted her, you'd feel a lot better." Speak of the devil.

"no it won't, it'll make me feel worse," you replied voice muffled by the pillow you had buried your face into.

"how would you know? You've never done this before. I, however, am a certified veteran at talking phases, and trust me y/n. I'm right"

"no"

"You text her right now. Or else you have to come with me to my physics lesson with me on Monday and you have to talk to her after."

••••••••••• Monday, 3rd April

Its 9am on a Monday morning and let's just say you are cursing the world... and Dina.

"Just remember y/n the longer you wait, the harder it'll be. Let's just get it out the way, yeah?" She chirped, linking arms with you, a reassuring smile on her face. "No..." You whined in reply as Dina ushered you out of the apartment.

"c'mon."

The walk was excruciating. Your mind was in another world as Dina joked and laughed with you, trying to take your mind off the looming anxiety that began to bubble in your chest. After fifteen minutes of walking on auto pilot, and almost walking into various obstacles (poles, trash cans, lamp posts etc), you finally arrived at the all too familiar lecture hall.

"Ready?"

"no"

"let's go".

Dina shuffled into the background, gesturing you to sit next to her, so you did, hands clasped together trying to swallow down the panic of your fast paced heart pounding in your chest.

"Hey, calm down..." You heard Dina whisper into your ear, as she grabbed your hand squeezing it, trying to comfort you. Breathing in deeply, you pulled out the book you were currently reading, trying to distract yourself.

"Good Morning everyone!" The familiar smooth voice of the woman you had been having a crisis over for weeks sounded out throughout the room as she entered. You're heart skipped a beat, your breath caught in your throat and became irregular.

"Shit. Dina, I-I don't think I can do this." You stammered, feeling tears well in your eyes.

"Okay, okay. C'mon, let's go." She rushed, eyes showing a guilty expression, as she closed her laptop, shoving into her bag and entwining hads with you as she guided you to the door. "

As soon as you left the stuffy hall, it felt as if the weight of the world lifted off of your shoulders.

"I'm so sorry y/n. I really didn't mean to push you, I shouldn't have. Gosh I'm so sorry." She rushed out.

"no, no don't apologize you were only trying to help. " You sighed as you took a seat on the floor outside the lecture hall.

"I need to go to the restroom. Are you sure you'll be okay for a sec?, we can leave once I get back"

"yeah, yeah, go ahead. I'll manage"

You closed your eyes, as you listened to Dina's footsteps become further and further away and tried to regulate your erratic breathing.

"Hey." No , not again.

Ellie shuffled sitting next to you on the ground. "You okay?" "No."

"right, yeah, obviously..."

"Sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out that way... Just don't get the point in lying, y'know?"

"I get it, it's an admirable trait." The underlying compliment caused your cheeks to flush pink, under her gaze. You became more aware of your surroundings, the feeling of elies side pushed up against yours now becoming more prominent.

Deciding to look at your shoes instead of meeting Ellie's warm gaze, you foot began to tap, jittering irritably from the nerves that still hadn't left your body.

"Don't you have a lecture to go back to?" You ask, trying to nurse the conversation back to life.

"I do, but I have different priorities currently..."

"You should go back, what priorities are more important than your job?"

You could practically feel Ellie's smile, even though you weren't even looking at her... "This..." She mumbled, her hand brushing under your chin and guiding your face to hers.

Your lips connected slowly, you could taste her strawberry Chapstick mix with the cherry one you had applied on yourself earlier. You felt her lips twisted into a smile, her hand moved from your chin, across your jawline until finally reaching the back of your head, pushing you deeper into the kiss.

A cough erupted from behind you, making you and Ellie jump apart. Turning around quickly to face the culprit-

"Dina!-" you yelled at the girl, who stood leaning against the wall, a smug grin painted on her face.

"Told you so."

----------------

Part 2

Here it is. I actually really like this one, I feel like I could've written the ending better but oh well. The ending is slightly different to what was requested, but I started writing and it just kinda happened like that. But I hope you still like it 🧡

NOT PROOFREAD

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heartthrobin · 1 year

Text

paint my sunset peach (1)

mechanic!eddie munson x farmgirl!reader

wc: 6.71k

warnings: reader is a little bit of a meanie, dirty sweaty eddie, hella pining, sunshine!eddie + grumpy!reader, swearing but otherwise pretty wholesome, limited use of y/n

an: i started writing this literally months ago and only finished it recently, super duper proud of it :))) this will be part one of a (probably) three part series. let me know if you want a tag in part 2 !!! i tried to tag all those who liked this post so thanks for the support - love you all <33

summary: the conveyer belt of mech-heads you dealt with on a weekly basis were nothing more than a side-show annoyance. but god, the auto-shop had never sent one with such round, wet brown eyes before.

part two

Before the auto-shop, on the corner at the intersection of Lovett and Harwood, was a Chinese restaurant.

The Red Lotus.

On Friday nights as a kid, daddy would drive into town and return with a steaming white bag of fried rice and dumplings. Sometimes, when they had in stock, he'd bring a single mooncake to share between him and you.

It was family run, the Zhou's. Three sons and a daughter.

They closed down right after you graduated, tired of the middle of nowhere-ness. The tractors rumbling loudly through town at six o' clock every morning, the shaky cell reception and the incessant knock of evening frogs on the porch.

Tired of butt-fuck nowhere Tennessee.

It stood empty for two years. Sometimes you'd pass it in your truck and remember them, other times you wouldn't even look.

But now, now it stood as a brand new garage. Or at least the tiny town's excuse for "brand new".

Daddy's friend, Mister Carl Abernathy, owned it.

He was a short stocky man, bald all over and you'd never seen him without a cold bottle of cider and the remnants of it’s sweat staining down his creased button-up.

You knew that only because he was always around: lots of things on the farm needed fixing up.

Weeds crept up into the tires of the tractors, age beat at the truck you used to move in and out of town - crates of peaches bouncing jovially over each bump.

Every time they needed a looking at, Carl would send over the bonehead of the week.

The same white pull-up would brake loudly outside the farmhouse door, always somewhere around nine: just in time to disturb your breakfast, and one of his latest recruits would hop out.

They’d lean haughtily against the large wheel of the dying blue tractor.

"Well, looks like we've got a problem on our hands here, hey little missy?"

They weren’t even worth the effort it took to roll your eyes. No shit.

The farm didn't make nearly enough from the weekend markets in bigger nearby towns, or the pennies of the townsfolk to afford new vehicles. So, you stuck it out with each caveman Carl sent your way.

And you were fine with it.

Mostly fine with it.

Sure, some of them were vulgar: they'd whistle at you or comment on your ass when you passed them working. Others could only succeed at making the vehicle worse than when they'd started, but it was your job to sort them out.

Could you have gone off with your high school friends to college? Sure.

Maybe.

But that’d leave Daddy all alone in that big house. You pushed away the thought when it surfaced to bug you.

Your mother had disappeared long before you knew her, exhausted - like the Zhou's - of being nowhere.

Maybe of being no one. Perhaps of being a no one peach farmer with the grump that was your daddy and a toddler zooming at her feet.

Either way, it didn't matter.

She had left and you remained to do the job, and that job included dealing with Carl’s mechanics.

At least it hadn't mattered, not until some morning in late summer.

The sun watched from high over the green farmhouse. It glared down, peeking over the edge of the porch.

You were fixed on the bird pecking at the already deteriorating grey window pane above the sink, overlooking the rows of colourful fields.

"You're messing, Cherry."

Cherry. Daddy had been calling you that since as far back as you could remember him talking.

You glanced at him across the table, where the spread of bread, eggs and jam had been lain, before you noticed where a long stripe of strawberry jam had run down the front of your black tank top.

"Listen now, you're gonna be fine with the tractor today?"

His voice was stern - probably too stern for such an hour of the morning, but you hardly noticed - swiping at the jam with your finger and nodding.

"No problems, alright?"

Daddy usually worked the tractor, but he was going to some meeting two towns over. He hadn't mentioned what about, but you were sure it had to do with the crippling financial state of the farm.

You nodded.

It's how you found yourself alone out in the heat of the midday sun.

The tractor rumbled beneath you, joggling over every rock and mole hill.

Every couple meters, you'd stop: climb off and pick at the peaches before tossing them into the crate. When enough crates were full, you'd load them onto the truck and move again.

You'd been at it, burning over your arms and shoulders, for what couldn’t have been more than a few hours when the tractor gave a sickening jolt.

Gripping the wheel and watching in horror over the edge of your sunglasses, your eyes followed the thick cloud of grey smoke where it began seeping out at the edges of the hood and disappearing up into the sky.

"No, no, no ..." you drew up the handbrake and leapt out the side onto the soil. The blue metal scalded the tips of your fingers where you threw the bonnet open before swallowing down mouthfuls of hot smoke.

It took five minutes of coughing against the side of the vehicle, another five kicking at the left wheel and at least another ten swearing at the sky before you dug your phone out from between the seats and dialled the number to Carl's auto shop.

It rung three times before his gruff voice carried across the line, "Abernathy Auto Repairs speakin', hello?"

"Good morning Mr Abernathy," your fingers pressed into the sides of your temple, working fruitlessly against the headache forming there. "I'm calling from the farm down Jasmine road—"

"Oh hey there, darlin'. What can I do you for?"

A squirrel rustled somewhere down the row of bushes. "Well, I'm out in the field now and the tractor has ... uh, given up on me. The ‘63. Need one of your men to come give it a start, or a look-over or—"

"Not a problem, not a problem at all. Are you far out? Whereabouts are you?"

You cupped a hand to shield up over your eyes, glancing back from whence you'd came. The house was but a speck of green in the distance.

"About two or three miles north west of the house?"

You could practically hear him nodding, a steady gulp audible against the line.

"Don't you worry about a thing, little darlin', I'll have one of my boys out there within the hour. Just hang tight."

"Alright, thank you kindly sir—"

But the line was already dead.

You glared at the phone.

Huffing loudly, you pulled yourself back up onto the truck - allowing the soft shade to gently graze over your face as you sunk back into the seat.

The warm wind rippled over the tops of the rows of greenery and you watched quietly, the irritation simmering to a low boil in your chest.

There was a quiet tranquility in being so far out from the house, shielded from the scorch.

Your boot tapped rhythmically against the console. Warm breeze brushed over your face again and you sighed, tilting your hat lower over your forehead. The lull of the quiet field allowed your lashes to fan closed over your cheeks. Before you’d taken note of the bird coming to perch on the roof, you were already asleep.

It was the loud rumble of an engine and the throbbing pain in your neck that brought you back to the world of the conscious.

You woke with a jump. Heart thumping against your ribcage in instant confusion. Your hat flew off your head and over the edge of your seat from where it had been blocking the light over your eyes.

Bringing a hand to your neck you whined loudly, the angle you’d been perched at doing nothing for the long term preservation of your muscles there.

You turned anyways, noticing the white pick-up quickly nearing from the direction of the house.

Frowning, you glanced down at time against the console. Three fifty-eight.

"Shit!"

You stuck your head out from under the shade of the tractor top to notice how low the sun has sunk in the sky. It was almost reaching the head of the hill in the distance.

The mechanic shouldn't have taken longer than an hour to find you, and subsequently, wake you. You quickly diffused yourself of blame.

Daddy was going to kill you.

Clambering off the side of the tractor, your hands found your hips before the car pulled to a wailing halt barely a few centimetres off from your knees.

Dust swept up around the truck, obscuring the view of the man that stepped out of it.

"Woah. Almost hit you there, doll."

Warm wind cleared the air and the figure of a young man stood in your field.

The words sitting on your tongue begging to be spat out were sucked straight back down your throat.

For a moment you forgot what you had planned to say at all.

The man's eyebrow cocked at you under strands of dark, curly hair falling carelessly from the skew bun atop his head.

Behind you, a crow cried in the distance. Your senses quickly returned to you.

Your fists tightened at your sides. "Where on god's green earth have you been?"

He looked taken aback.

"Well, I had some trouble finding the house," he smiled sheepishly, motioning to the farmhouse over his shoulder, "and then I had to phone Carl cause he didn't really tell me where—"

"So you're new then? Carl sent a greenie to come fix my tractor?"

Anyone who'd spent more than three days in town knew the farm down Jasmine road. Knew your farm.

A heavily ringed hand came up to his jaw, rubbing there and eyeing you in a way that made the hair on your arms stands straight up.

It was painfully unfair how handsome he was.

"New to town. Not new to fixing tractors." His voice was smooth, the curl of a grin peaking at you from the edge of his mouth.

Sucking in a deep breath - a feeble attempt at composure - you nodded once.

"Well, I've got a tractor and it's broken. And you're two hours late, so if you don't mind, I've got a job to do."

You turned violently on your heel, sure if you stood under his gaze any longer that you'd melt right against the soil.

The sound of the peaches tumbling out the crate onto the tractor split the air between you and him, and soon you were marching away from his figure - crate in hand - in pursuit of fruit further down the lane.

"I'm Eddie!"

You waved vaguely over your shoulder, electing not to bless him with an answer.

Carl was going to hear an earful from your father, you were sure of it. You plucked angrily at the fruits off the bush, tossing them a little too violently in with the rest.

It was quiet from the distance behind you, but you refused to turn to look.

Sure, you shouldn't be so surprised that one of Carl's idiots was nearly two hours late and got lost in a town that really only has two roads, but god, he'd never sent one with such round, wet brown eyes before.

The walk was long, each stop causing the crate to become heavier, and you worked hard to put the image of the mechanic’s black shirt - that he'd obviously cut the sleeves off himself - and how it clung to his chest with sweat out of your mind.

You didn't stop until a voice called from behind. At first it was soft, but it grew louder within a minute: as was the sound of footfalls.

"Hey, miss!"

He was jogging towards you, pieces of hair falling recklessly out from the grips of his hair tie to frame his red face.

Eddie only stopped when barely a few feet separated you.

"All done." He grinned, huffing around his smile. "She just overheated a bit, needed some water and a a couple valves disconnected."

You couldn't tell whether it was harder to hold his gaze or work to keep yours off of his chest.

"Right. Good." You nodded, leaning to lift the crate at your feet. "Then I'll be getting back to it."

It was heavy, almost too heavy if you hadn't lifted boxes like those from sunrise to sunset for the last eighteen or so years.

But the mechanic was clearly unconvinced, he swooped in closer to you. "Let me get that—"

"I'm fine—"

"No really." By now he was way too close, close enough that you could smell the undertones of a shower gel or maybe a cologne.

His voice softened, "Please. To make up for my tardiness."

It was hard to tell whether it was the sun making you so dizzy or his proximity, but either way, it forced you to nod slowly. "Fine."

Eddie took the crate from your hands, you ignored the rush of heat to your stomach as he grunted against the weight.

"Strong thing aren't you, doll?"

You didn't respond, eyes fixed on the giant blue tractor a couple meters from where you stood.

Silence rung, only the footfalls filling the space. You'd almost made it all the way back to the tractor without conversation before the mechanic decided to open his mouth again.

"I don't think I caught your name earlier."

You met his eyes, regretting it almost immediately when your knees threatened to buckle, "That's because I never gave it."

Stepping just close enough to take the crate from his grip, but avoid the drift of his cologne again, your hands brushed closely against his.

They were cool against your sweaty ones.

He was grinning again.

You stepped back, balancing the peaches against your hip before tilting it over the box attached to the end of the tractor allowing the round pink pieces to clatter down into its depths.

"Right. Well, what's your name then doll?"

But you were already clambering back up the side of the tractor into the worn leather seat.

"Wouldn't you like to know, pretty boy."

He was leaning against the side of the truck now, you avoided looking down at him, something told you that you'd find those eyes blinking right up into your soul again if you did.

"So you think I'm pretty?"

Hot red blush chased up the sides of your neck over your ears, you prayed it wasn't discernible under the pink sunburn.

The keys jingled loudly as you slid them into the ignition and turned them violently. The vehicle jerked to life.

"I think your job is done. Good afternoon sir."

Before he could say another word, your foot had sunk down on the accelerator and the tractor was rumbling back down between the bushes again.

In your peripheral vision you watched how the mechanic stumbled back against his pick-up, narrowly avoiding catching his foot under one of the hundred pound tires, and the sound of an echoing chuckle fading as you plodded away.

The drive back to the auto-garage was quick. At least quicker than the drive Eddie had taken to find the farm.

His hands tightened around the wheel, twisting over the leather as he pulled to a park in the open spot across the street.

A ring of brown soil stared up at him from where he'd pulled at the handbrake with dusty paws.

"Shit ..." he wiped his hands down the jean over his thighs.

Eddie was used to the oil and the reek of grease, as if that wasn't already enough, but not the itch of farm soil up his nostrils and behind his ears.

He twisted the metal ring around his finger, a small grin playing at his lips.

But the soil wasn't so bad, he reckons he'd swim through a pool of it it to get another chance to watch the hot-tempered farm girl's hips sway when she marched away from him, just as you'd done earlier that afternoon.

The smile didn't leave his face as he climbed out the car, locked it and crossed the street whistling.

Eddie was almost completely used to the whir of the drills echoing off the walls and barely registered the creak of the lever that was raising a car near the back of the shop.

Carl was leaning over the reception desk clinking the bottom of his cider bottle against the wood and puffing on the end of a cigarette.

He waved vaguely down at the open ledger when he noticed Eddie nearing, "See here, extra two hundred dollars on a cheap fucking knock off for that AMC Eagle. You believe that, Munson?"

"Hardly, boss."

Eddie was halfway back to where he'd abandoned the engine on a red convertible before weaving across town to find a farm when the boss' voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Hold it, hold it. Where’ve you been? Didn't I send you outta here three hours ago?" He swivelled on the bar stool against the counter to face him.

The greasy palm that had been picking it's way under car hoods all afternoon reached up to rub against the side of his neck. "I couldn't find that fucking farm, did three circles ‘round the post office before I saw the sign for Jasmine road."

Carl surveyed him with a crooked brow. "They didn't teach you to read maps down in Indiana, boy?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He was about to turn back on his way, when the picture of your face glimmered at him behind his eyes, "Listen boss, the girl there. The daughter you said, what's her name?"

By then, Carl had already turned back down to the accounts. "What's it to ya?"

Silence rung long enough that Carl peeked back up at Eddie over the rim of his glasses.

Eddie shrugged bashfully. "Pretty thing."

Carl threw his head back, laughing loudly - Eddie always thought his laugh sounded like a dog barking.

"I've seen that look." He shook his head, lifting to perch his glasses on his shining bald head. "Too many of you boys come back from that farm starry-eyed. No hope with that princess, she don't like you mech-heads. Nope, not one bit."

"Ah, come on, don't you believe in love at first sight?"

Carl let off another crumbly chuckle, "Bit your head off, didn't she?"

"Sure did." He beamed like the cat that caught the canary, "Love it when a lady talks to me sweet."

A sweaty hand shrugged him off.

"Get back to work, Munson."

But Eddie wavered. "Just a name, boss."

Carl stared at him for a couple moments, clearly bored. It took a long slug of the yellow cider and a hard sigh before he spoke again: "Y/n."

The grin crept back up his cheeks. He tested the name on his tongue, finding it to taste as sweet as he knew it would.

"Appreciate it."

"Get back to that convertible before I fire you."

Eddie the mechanic had been firmly put out of your mind following the ruckus out in the field.

Sure, his puppy dog face had returned to you later that night as you lay in bed, but that hardly counted.

You'd forgone mentioning his tardiness to Daddy, electing to take the mild scolding instead.

By the time the end of the week had arrived, you'd just about completely forgotten the floppy haired man that had once graced the farm.

That was until Daddy rose the topic of the auto-body shop again.

He handed you the wet plate, you took it carefully - starting to wipe it down. The water sloshed beneath his hands, scrubbing hard at the soapy pan.

Bullseye watched up at you from where she was curled up on the kitchen chair, purring loudly. Outside the sky was turning deep lilac and the crickets were clicking loudly.

"Tomorrow on your way back from Madeline's, I want you to stop by Carl's."

Madeline's was the local - and only - grocer. You dropped five cases there every Tuesday.

Your hand stilled against the plate, "For?"

"I want you to ask him to spare a man, a good one. Just a couple afternoons a week to do some work."

Your father handed the next plate over carefully.

Confusion tugged at your brow, "Work? What work?"

"You're too curious for your own good, y'know that?"

Bumping your shoulder against his, the pot lid almost slipping from his wet fingers, you laughed. "Don't be difficult, what for?"

The old man sighed.

Some nights, with the evening hue seeping in through the window against his face like it was just then, you were reminded of how old he really was.

"I want to fix up the Cobra."

In the barn around the back of the house, sitting untouched and unmoved for almost twenty years, lived a 1965 AC Cobra.

The steel lid slipped from your hands, clattering against the floor. Your father jumped.

"You're fixing the Cobra!" You grabbed him by the arm, eyes wide in delight. "Is it for me?"

He offered a half-hearted stern look at you, leaning to pick up the lid before straightening out.

"Don't get too excited, she's a real piece of work and we don't know if she can even still be revived."

You tugged at the edge of his shirt, "But ... it's for me, right?"

"Well, your twenty-first is coming up and I thought you're old enough now—"

Just about strangling him, your arms flew up over his neck.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you—!"

He sighed over your shoulder, patting your back with a wet hand. “Alright, alright. Just speak to Carl.”

Your drop-off at Madeline's had never gone faster.

Town was busy, as busy as it got on a Tuesday morning, and Abernathy's was no different.

You pulled into a spot down the line of other nearly identical pick-ups to your own in front of the shop.

At the front desk, where you were sure he'd grown roots into the stool behind it, sat Carl Abernathy.

When he looked up from a piece he'd been tinkering with, surprise twisted at his features.

"G'morning darlin'," he set the piece down, puffing around a lit cigarette, "What can I do you for on this fine morning?"

"Good morning sir," you set your hat on the counter, leaning beside it. "My daddy sent me, he's asking if you could spare a man for some work 'round by ours. Couple nights a week."

The little man's eyes screwed at you.

"What, may I ask, will he be expected to do?"

By then you couldn't stifle the grin any longer.

"He's gonna be fixing the Cobra."

The response seemed to delight the man as much as it did yourself, because he laughed loudly and slammed a hand down against the wooden desk.

"Your old man finally found some sense, hey?" He jeered, "I'm mighty pleased to here that, little miss, I really am."

You smiled, "It's my birthday gift. Twenty-first coming up."

"Twenty-one, hey? Well, I've got just the boy. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it."

Carl leaned dangerously back on the stool, you fleetingly wondered how he didn't topple over, before yelling over his shoulder into the depths of the shop.

"Munson! Get your up-to-no-good-ass over here!"

Not to say that you'd completely forgotten him, but you were still more than a little taken aback when the tall framed mechanic from a few days before emerged from under the hood of a pick-up.

"Boss—?" His eyes found you. They lit up like main street over Christmas. "Oh, what a pleasant surprise. Morning, doll."

Grease covered every inch of his arms up to his elbows which held the scrunched up ends to the black long sleeve he was wearing. He was dirtier than last you saw him and it made your stomach swoop dangerously.

"Him?" It slipped out before you had time to catch it.

But Carl didn't comment on your rudeness, instead he slapped a heavy hand over Eddie's shoulder and shook it.

"For sixty's models, this is your boy for the Cobra." The older man beamed at him, like he was telling you his son was a heart surgeon. "Hands like a magician I tell you."

The comment sent a icy chill down the back of your spine, it wasn't helped when the mechanic snapped a wink at you from under his boss' hand.

"R-Right, well, you can come by as soon as you want to start working. A couple hours a day, my daddy will pay you."

With his hair clipped back, you could make a clearer assessment of his face as he nodded to you. He had thick lips and a strong-set nose.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, doll."

The cheekiness in his grin was plucking at a nerve behind your eyebrow. "Think you'll be able to find your way this time?"

"I think I'll be fine." His hands sunk into the depths of his jean pockets, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Left at the butchery and right down the road to my heart."

You scoffed, turning back to Carl. "Thanks Mr Abernathy. I'll let my old man know."

Not even sparing Eddie another glance, you grabbed your hat off the counter and turned on your heel back to the car.

He watched your hair sway under the press of the brown hat and where your wide shoulders glistened in the light beneath the straps of your overalls.

Only when the sound of your engine had disappeared down the street, did he turn back to Carl who was digging the end of a screwdriver into a metal plate.

"You're really an old romantic aren't you, boss."

Carl grumbled, waving a dismissive hand at him.

Eddie shook his head, chuckling delightedly, "Psh, "sixty's models"! As if Jacob couldn't get that Cobra running in a couple days."

Pulling another cider noisily out from the cooler he kept at his feet, Carl guffawed. "I sure hope it's gonna take you more than a few days, lover boy, cause that little miss doesn't seem too fond 'a you I can tell you now."

But Eddie wasn't fazed, "Don't worry, she will be."

Sure as the sun rose in the sky, two o' clock rolled around the next afternoon and a noisy white pick-up pulled into park in front of the green farmhouse.

"Cherry! The mech's here!"

You'd grumbled, reluctantly pulling yourself out from where you'd been perched under the cool shade of the back porch repainting worn pots.

Eddie was standing lost in the driveway when you found him.

He was dirty, obviously just from the shop, and you offered something short of a warm welcome, but he seemed unfazed.

"Car's in the barn 'round the back of the house."

"Well good afternoon to you too, miss." You wondered if his smirk had been permanently stitched there.

The toolbox rattled with each step he took after your pacing figure.

As promised, the barn stood nearly as tall as the house in a faded orange hue.

It was dark inside and the door creaked loudly where you'd swung it open.

There she sat in all her glory. The 1965 AC Cobra, in a fitting cherry red.

Eddie whistled lowly over your shoulder behind you.

"A damn shame hiding this beaut up in this dusty barn." He passed you, running his hand over the bonnet that glimmered even in the low light.

We can agree on one thing at least, you thought.

"I've got to go finish up," you motioned over your shoulder, "but, uh, if you need anything I'll be around. Just shout."

You'd already caught the edge of the door, halfway out, when his voice stopped you in your tracks.

"And what is it exactly that I should I shout, doll? Seeing as you still haven't told me your name."

You surmised him, considering only momentarily letting your name spill off your lips.

Hm. Not today.

"Doll works just fine, greenie."

Finishing off the pots was easy, quick. They stood lined up against the bannister drying while you busied yourself in the vegetable patch behind the house: twisting carrots and beetroots out from the dark soil as the sun sunk slowly lower in the sky.

The time had hardly occurred to you when the back door swung open, your father sticking his one foot down the step.

Keys to the pick-up dangled in his hand.

"Cherry, I'm running to Madeline's for some wood glue and another bag of nails. Need anything?"

Swiping an itch on your forehead with the back of your hand, wiping a long black stripe there, you shook your head. "Nothing."

"Right," he nodded and the door was already halfway shut when he tossed it open again. "Oh, and go make that boy a bite to eat. Damn skinny thing's been in that hot barn for hours now."

You sagged your shoulders childishly, voice coming out as a whine. "Must I really?"

"Yes, you must really."

And he was gone.

The fridge was a ghost town, spare for the never-ending supply of fruit and vegetable that lived in the bottom drawer.

Following five minutes of pursing your lips and staring into its depths, you conjured up a lettuce, cucumber tomato and sweet-chilli sandwich. It didn't take long to convince yourself into making another to satiate your own complaining stomach.

You hummed as you worked, pouring cool lemonade into two glasses, packing the food back into the fridge and rinsing off the butter knife.

The tall clock chimed jovially from the hallway when you shuffled out the back, two plates and two glasses in hand.

Your hip nudged open at the barn door and a wave of sweltering heat rushed over your face and between every tendril of hair on your head.

Blinking foggily into the dim sauna that was the barn, you were met with the only slightly browned back of one Eddie Munson.

The man was hunched over, head lost in the depths of the car's stomach and when he straightened out you just about swallowed your tongue.

His long black mane was in a messy ponytail at the base of his neck and his shirt had been abandoned somewhere by the right tire. Sweat was sliding down the side of his face like an open faucet.

"Hey," he smiled when he met your eyes, voice groggy and tired. The sound made the plates wobble under your grip.

"Hi—" you cringed internally, it was the most pleasant greeting you'd offered him so far. Why had it come out so ... awkward?

You motioned down to the plates, as if his eyes hadn't already found them. "I made you a sandwich ... didn't know if you were hungry or—"

The wrench flew from his grip down into the box where he tossed it and Eddie sighed. "Starving."

You handed him the plate, watching how his blackened fingers stained the edge of the plate and the rim of the glass.

He sat carefully down against an empty crate that had been abandoned by the wall, resting the glass by his feet and wiping his hands down the length of his thighs.

"Hot as hell in here." The mechanic mumbled before diving into the sandwich.

Letting his head fall back against his shoulders, he moaned loudly.

"This is fucking delicious." He commented around the mouthful.

You worked hard to swat away the blush reaching at your cheeks by nodding quickly. That sound would probably ring in your head all night.

"I should go—"

"You're not gonna eat here? I don't mind ..." Eddie eyed the sandwich you'd made for yourself in your hand, gaze flickering between the plate and your face.

Your mouth curled around a response, but you were beat to the chase.

"I know you probably mind," he interjected quickly, "but if you w-want company, I mean, you could eat here ..."

Pursing your lips, you surveyed him: long gangly legs spilling in every direction and rings clinking against the glass.

Would it really kill you to sit five minutes with him?

"No need to turn red, greenie." You resigned, kicking over another crate near the grate of the car before leaning down to perch against it. "I don't mind."

It was quiet for the first couple minutes. You focused on your sandwich, feeling his gaze flicker up to you every few minutes.

He'd practically inhaled the first half of the sandwich, but you noticed he was eating the second half slowly.

"So," he swallowed down a gulp of lemonade. "What were you busy with now before I forced you into sitting here with me?"

You picked at a cucumber that had fallen loose from your sandwich, teasing at the outer skin with your teeth.

"Very important work." Your lip curled at the corners, it seemed he noticed. "Fate of the farm depended on it. Guess now it'll have to crash and burn ..."

"Oh yeah? Enlighten me."

His amused look matched yours.

"Pulling carrots out the patch."

He leaned back, eyes widening theatrically. "Sounds exhilarating."

"You have no idea."

You bit into your sandwich again, finding the space suddenly more comfortable.

"Tell me," he pulled off a piece of tomato hanging dangerously off the edge of the sandwich, "How does a car this beautiful find it's way onto a farm in the middle of nowhere?"

Your chest pinched at the question.

"Y'know, just ..." you motioned vaguely towards the roof, "Aliens."

He caught how your gaze flickered from his to a loose bolt near your foot.

Okay, sensitive spot.

The bread was soft between Eddie's fingers, he set it down.

"I thought I saw some funny lights in the sky last night."

It was becoming almost impossible to keep his eyes off you, even for a couple seconds at a time.

You only nodded at his response, refusing to lift your gaze from the floor.

It was making his stomach churn, desperate for a couple more minutes to enjoy the view of your face.

There was a smudge of brown soil against your forehead where your hair fell over it, making his hands twitch in his lap, itching to reach out and swipe at your sun-kissed face.

"Just you and the old man then?" He pressed, reaching for his glass again.

You shrugged, "Couple creatures of the earth too. And the peaches, of course. Always the peaches."

"Peaches are good."

"No boyfriend then?"

It slipped out of him before he had chance to catch it. He'd been dying to know since the second your figure had appeared to him beyond the cloud of dust out in the field.

You took your sweet time, examining him over the rim of your glass. He couldn't tell whether you intended to respond to him at all.

The weight of your gaze was making his head spin.

"'A course I have a boyfriend. Nights on a big farm like this get lonely without someone to warm the other side of the bed. Y'know?"

Eddie's heart sunk into his stomach.

The sandwich had suddenly lost it's appeal. He set the last couple bites by his feet. He nodded slowly.

"... Can imagine."

Blood was rushing past his ears loudly, he could feel it pooling around his cheeks: warming his face with embarrassment.

"He's actually around if you want to meet him?"

"Uh—" Eddie couldn't even formulate a half of a response before your head was thrown back over your right shoulder:

"Cowboy! Baby!"

Cowboy?

There was a thick confused silence where he wasn't entirely sure who or even if anyone would march through the door - he mostly hoped that you'd been lying and nobody was coming at all.

"Baby!" You called again.

Then he heard it.

The fall of footsteps. Someone was running towards the barn and getting quickly closer.

From out of the sunshine, bounding through the door, Eddie made out the shape of the largest dog he'd ever seen.

Four long gangly legs carried him across the small space, tongue swinging over the side of his jaw: he'd appeared so quickly that Eddie didn't have a moment to prepare before the hound leapt excitedly into his lap.

"Hey, boy—!"

He toppled back over the crate and the dog licked hungrily at the sauce around the edges of his mouth, he nudged Eddie's face with his giant snout before spotting the last few bites of the sandwich left abandoned and scooped it up in one long lick.

The distraction of the food offered Eddie the opportunity to sit straight up again, he could feel the hay tangling into the depths of his hair - but the thought dissolved when he picked up the sound you were making.

You were laughing.

The sound was making him drunk, he was sure of it.

It was made worse when he looked at you: head tilted to the side, leaning at the wall and calling the dog breathlessly between giggles.

Eddie could feel the tiny birds flying in circles over his head and his pupils turning to hearts.

"Cowboy, leave the man's food!"

But the sandwich was long gone and the dog had apparently lost interest in sniffing at the empty plate, returning to licking wet stripes up the side of Eddie's face.

"Sorry, he's just a pup." Your face had softened, giggles bubbling down to a sigh. "Hasn't grown into all his manners yet."

"A pup?" Eddie mumbled in disbelief, catching Cowboy behind his ears with a tickle.

Like a magic button, the dog collapsed into a puddle by his feet: panting loudly.

"Kinda looks like your boyfriend likes me more than you."

You leaned against your knees, head shaking. "I'm feeling a little betrayed that he hasn't even looked in my direction yet."

"It's my natural charm, what can I say. Attracts animals of all species."

Scoffing loudly, you shook your head. "Keep the traitor then. We'll see how long he lasts without me feeding him spoonfuls of peanut butter under the table."

Eddie briefly wondered how big of table existed in the kitchen beyond the window of the farmhouse to fit the monstrous animal at his feet.

"Aw, then who would keep you warm on cold farm nights ..." he flashed a toothy smile, "Winter is just around the corner after all."

"Well, in that case," you tilted your head back in false concentration, lifting your hand to count on your fingers: "There's Bullseye, the cat ... Rodeo, the other cat. A couple stray dogs sometimes walk in off the fields, maybe we could adopt a goat?"

Cowboy was watching you with his head in Eddie's lap, Eddie tilted his head innocently to the side. "No one else?"

"Nope ... none that come to mind."

You were smiling at him now, mischief curled into the edges of your mouth.

It was turning his insides to a molten pool of goo.

"Is that a smile I see?" He tried his luck. "Did I make you smile? Is a comet about to hit the state of Tennessee?"

You turned your head quickly, working to wipe the expression off your face, but not entirely succeeding.

Instead you stood up.

"Whatever, greenie." Leaning down to pick up your plate, Eddie was briefly exposed to the view down the front of your dungarees. He blushed again. "Don't you have work to do?"

Crossing the space quickly, you grabbed his plate from beneath one of Cowboy's pot-sized paws before clicking your tongue at the dog.

He clambered back onto his feet like a new-born deer, clearly still not entirely sure what to do with so much leg.

"I'll see you later then, doll?"

But you didn't turn back, disappearing into the light of the sun with Cowboy trotting at your heels.

"Maybe in your dreams tonight, pretty boy."

tags:

@jokersgrf @anicosa-ironlung @sleepy-bunnie @pricelessemotion @sweetgladiatorfesival @eggo-segual @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @introvertedmouse @ctrlaltdel3te @multifandom-l0ver @inarinine @sillysteveharharhar @buckystwilight @hey-lucille

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson au

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herbgerblin · 2 years

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ID: First Image is of various character from A court of Fey and Flowers. From left to right is Delloso de la Rue, a tall, olive green owlbear. They are wearing a pearl headpiece and rose-pink regency gown with red ribbon and pearl accents on the shoulders. Rue looks very calm and poised externally, but an internal depiction shows them looking very flustered while thinking, "His hand is so close!" On their chest rest Binx, disguised as a tiny golden frog. Binx is reaching out to shake hands with Captain K. P. Hob, a tall bugbear. He has light brown fur and yellow eyes, and is wearing a dark blue captain's coat over a white vest. His attention is very much on Binx. Behind Hob is Prince Andhera, a short, masculine-presenting fey. Anhera is wearing a dark rob lined with gold. A small, pink, throbbing raincloud looms over his head as he looks up at his friends with confusion. The second image is of two more drawings of Rue. On the left, Rue is holding their large, dark, clawed hands in supplication as they say, "I pray, protect yourself." On the right is a full body sketch of Rue, wearing a bright yellow regency gown, yellow flowers on their head, and two gold necklaces. End ID

forming alliances in the tailor shop my beloved

#it's late at night and relatively late in the season but i have been fighting with a desktop all week and time is not a flat circle ok #the sharp contrast between then and now does not escape me #i drew this like two weeks ago but then went back and edited because i was like 'no actually rue should look fluffier'#and i stand by that #herbgerbart #acofaf #a court of fey and flowers #my art #delloso de la rue #captain kp hob #prince andhera #binx choppley #acofaf spoilers

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buttertrait · 10 months

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🍃Create-a-Villager!🍃

i've been really enjoying all of the cas challenges recently, and i've been playing a bunch of animal crossing, so i thought why not combine the two and come up with my own little cas challenge! i hope you guys enjoy and feel free to tag me or use the hastag #createavillager so i can see all of your lovely sims

link to a random number generator!

🍃rolls below the cut🍃

Species (1-35, roll once)

1- alligator

2- anteater

3- bear

4- bird

5- bull

6- cat

7- chicken

8- cow

9- cub

10- deer

11- dog

12- duck

13- egle

14- elephant

15- frog

16- goat

17- gorilla

18- hamster

19- hippo

20- horse

21- kangaroo

22- koala

23- lion

24- monkey

25- mouse

26- octopus

27- ostrich

28- penguin

29- pig

30- rabbit

31- rhino

32- sheep

33- squirrel

34- tiger

35- wolf

Personality (1-8, roll once)

1- normal

2- lazy

3- sisterly

4- cranky

5- jock

6- peppy

7- smug

8- your pick

Colour(s) (1-12, roll as many times as you like)

1- white

2- purple

3- pink

4- red

5- orange

6- yellow

7- green

8- blue

9- cyan

10- brown

11- black

12- grey

Random details (1-23, roll as many times as you like)

1- vitiligo

2- scar(s)

3- freckles

4- glasses

5- bright/bold makeup

6- no makeup

7- hetrochromia

8- thick eyebrows

9- thin eyebrows

10- no eyebrows

11- hat/some sort of head accessory

12- hair tied up

13- short hair

14- medium hair

15- long hair

16- bangs

17- acne

18- birthmark

19- jewellery

20- no jewellery

21- long nails

22- short nails

23- body hair

#i know a ton of people have made cas challenges but i was feeling inspired #createavillger #ts4 #ts4 cas #ts4 cas challenge #the sims 4 #sims 4 #sims 4 cas #sims 4 cas challenge #the sims community #simblr #acnh

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pufflehuffing · 3 months

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To Teach Is To Learn Twice. (Professor Sallow x F!Student!Reader) 🔞

pairing: DADA Professor!Sebastian Sallow x F!Student!reader (she/her, 1st person) genre: SMUT (MDNI), everyone is 18+ I don’t condone any of these actions, this is merely fiction! word count: 8.4k warnings: Use of Imperio | dub-con | unspecified age gap | student x teacher | m!receiving oral | praise kink galore | pure filth | Sebastian is greedy | Imperio doesn’t have set rules for fic purposes | Sebastian Sadist Sallow | dom/sub-dynamic | corruption kink summary: Professor Sallow is intrigued when his star pupil suddenly asks him to learn about the Unforgivables, but being the studious man he is, he’s happy to fulfill her request. A/N: Wrote this to Lurk by The Neighbourhood on loop in my mind so I’ve included the lyrics to set the vibe hehe 😈 My masterlist.

Professor Sebastian Sallow freezes, stunned that I actually managed to tell him the truth. He had half expected this after teaching me the Cruciatus Curse at the beginning of the year, but at the same time he also expected me to hold it in. He’s silent as he absorbs my words. All of a sudden, it makes sense. I was on edge all week and couldn’t concentrate. Now he knows why. I was mustering up the courage to ask him to teach me how to cast Imperio.

The brunet man shakes his head in disbelief as we sit opposite each other in his office. I’ve always been the apple of his eye, his showpiece for the other teachers during staff meetings. When I walked into DADA in September of my first year at Hogwarts, he already found my knowledge remarkable. Over the past years that admiration only grew, but this was surprising even coming from me. "To be completely honest with you, it puzzles me. Your performance throughout the years has been flawless," he sighs. "It's only during this week that I could tell you were a bit disturbed, but I understand why now. The fact that you're bold enough to admit you want to learn Dark Magic is an accomplishment, to say the least. You should be proud.”

A small smile creeps up on my face and my eyes snap back into focus with faint traces of blush on my cheeks, happy to hear him confirm that he's proud of me. His praise was always my biggest motivator to keep learning and pushing the boundaries of the curriculum, not to mention the man was proper fit. His brown curls were pushed back, but a few strands hung over his dark eyebrows, framing his brown eyes whose colour made chocolate frogs seem dull in comparison. As he looks at me, Professor Sallow can't help but notice how I’m fiddling with my nails in my lap. "I’m proud," he emphasises a bit louder while he leans over his desk to peer into my downcasted eyes. He takes the opportunity to glance down at my clothes briefly, but quickly looks away and leans back in his chair again to cross his arms.

It was never a surprise to Sebastian that I’d fill out my uniform quite nicely, but what surprised him most was how it almost seemed like I was wearing my first-year skirt and vest whenever I entered his class. He took notice of how I would always sit up front, paying close attention to every word that fell from his lips as if he were a preacher. Though, as much as Professor Sallow liked to maintain the authoritative attitude of a saint, he was just as much of a sinner as the next wizard, especially when it comes to beautiful women. If he had thought he wasn’t attracted to his favourite student, he’d be torturing himself more than by merely keeping things professional. Moral. “Always wearing that short skirt, hoisting it up so high that those pretty white panties are on full display for me in the front row. Those thigh-high socks I should give you detention for…” He burned internally, aching for just one touch, aching to be the reason I blush even harder, preferably underneath him, but this would do for now. His time would come, another hour of this conversation and he’d be in his quarters, fucking into his fist and pretending it was my tight cunt like had done so many times before.

I nod, letting his words of praise resonate with me before sighing deeply to relax myself in my chair, my chest heaving up and down slowly. Perhaps it was a stupid idea to ask him, but at least he hasn’t thrown a tantrum yet about how reckless I was for even thinking about learning such dangerous spells. I had been his star pupil ever since first-year and time and time again I’ve proven myself to Professor Sallow that I’m a worthy student. With my intelligence and street smarts to boot, I never fail to impress him. Truth is, ever since puberty rolled around I only had eyes for the tall man sitting in front of me. Every hour spent in that classroom of his I was raking my eyes over his toned figure, hidden in blazers and smart trousers, and it left me feeling so flustered I was failing to concentrate on my next classes. My eyes would be fixed to my History Of Magic textbook, but my mind wandered off, thinking of new excuses to spend more time in Professor Sallow’s office. “Extra tutoring on a particular spell? No… Maybe a feedback session? Hm, too obvious.” I would ponder. One day, I even giggled aloud when imagining getting into trouble just so he could reprimand me by shoving his cock inside me and ramming me into oblivion, thoughts which left me blushing throughout my Potions Class. Luckily, I could blame my flustered state on the hot and damp classroom, which Professor Weasley didn’t seem to think twice about.

Now, finally in his office at 8PM on a Friday, we both take in the tension the conversation has created. There are a few moments of silence between us and Professor Sallow's gaze is fixated on me. “Merlin, her eyes are so tempting…” His lips twitch as he notices a strand of my hair that has fallen loose and he shifts to get comfortable in his chair, thrusting his crotch up a little while doing so in a subtle attempt to readjust the tent in his dark grey trousers. His fingers tingling while he resists the urge to tuck the strand behind my ear and pull me in. Professor Sallow doesn’t feel the need to say anything more. He can see how proud I am of my ambitions. His expression becomes thoughtful as he takes in my facial features.

“Your skills and intelligence are commendable,” Professor Sallow says with a smile that makes my heart race. He seems impressed with my desire to learn more powerful spells even if they are dark. I've always been one of his best students and he appreciates my diligence in hard work. He leans forward towards me, his brown eyes piercing as he gazes into my own. I'm embarrassed of my feelings for him and his attraction to me is making me flustered. He wants to be more than a professor and student, and so do I.

I wanna be honest

I want to be bad

I want to destroy you

I want to move fast

“You have a lot of potential, my dear,” he says, his voice silky smooth. His eyes travel down my body as he notices me fidgeting with the skirt of my uniform. I blush and look away, embarrassed that he caught me. He likes the way I look in my short skirt and I can tell from the way he's looking at me that he thinks about it often. I'm a temptation for him, but he's forced to remain professional.

If Sebastian had been a mere man, he would have been staring and admiring me purely on the basis of my attractive face and newly-acquired plump body. But, he has another aspect to his gaze, one that runs deeper. There is a small hint of admiration, but also a hint of affection, lust even. He clearly views me in a special light and continues to observe me for a few more moments, a slight blush creeping across his cheeks and his eyes flickering when he realises that I caught him staring.

He takes a deep breath as he considers my request for a moment. He has to appreciate my honesty, as there’s only a handful of students who would even dare to ask such a question to a professor like him. “You do realise how dangerous it would be, don’t you?” he asks, but instead of sounding harsh and angry, he seems to be curious. He can’t help but be surprised at my willingness to learn something he knows is dark and taboo. He sighs and shakes his head, still seeming a little surprised at how serious I seem to be. His expression softens once again and he smiles kindly at me while he leans forward again, a concerned look appearing on his face as he hovers over his arms on the desk. “I know you’re a very talented girl, but it’s not just about reading about it or simply casting it. You know that there’s a huge risk involved with learning Dark Magic. I already pushed my morals as both a professor and a man by teaching you Crucio a few months ago.”

I nod obediently. "Yes, sir, I figured that's why I'd ask you directly instead of sneaking into the Restricted Section or something like that.”

Professor Sallow is listening intently as I speak. He seems more curious and interested than ever before. His expression changes from one of surprise to one of admiration. He can see that I’m truly fascinated by these spells. “I can’t say I’m surprised,” he replies with a lift of his eyebrows. “The Imperius Curse is truly magnificent in and of itself. It’s a miracle, really, how much power can be imbued into one’s spell-casting if they have complete control over their magic.”

He shoots me a soft glare to make me reconsider my request. His brown eyes darken slightly and I instinctively chew the inside of my lip to stop another blush from bubbling up. I wonder if I could push my luck even more and ask him something even bolder, the freckled brunet has a soft spot for me after all. "Does that mean you’d be willing to teach me? Would you mind casting it, sir? On me? I don't yet feel comfortable casting it on someone else, but I'd like to see the effects for myself," I ask him with a well-strategized head tilt and a coy smile, half-expecting him to refuse.

A moment of silence goes by as the professor contemplates my request. He was half-expecting that I would ask him to cast it. Sebastian’s expression turns into a thoughtful, almost regretful one as he weighs the possibilities. On the one hand, he doesn’t want to risk being caught if he teaches me something that powerful, but at the same time, he senses the immense amount of curiosity in me and thinks I’d be a good student to teach. Plus, it would give him an interesting choice to take advantage of my morals. Sebastian was well aware he was being seduced every time he taught my class and he wondered if it were possible to push some of the school’s rules and regulations.

The professor leans back in his chair once again and continues to reflect. His brow furrows and his eyes seem to be wandering somewhere to the side as he tries to decide. “I guess your enthusiasm has gotten the best of my judgement,” he admits with a small sigh and hardens his face again to show his authority. “But you have to promise me one thing: you keep yourself grounded in reality and stay in control when handling dark magic. It’s too easy to get carried away and lose track of yourself. I want you to promise me that you will not let yourself fall into that trap. I’m warning you, I’m watching over you like a hawk.”

"I promise, professor." I nod firmly to emphasise my words. “I won’t be casting it any time soon and definitely not out of malice.”

As I speak, a tiny smirk appears on his lips. He leans back in his office chair, his eyes roaming over my body and the tight top I'm wearing. He wants to refuse, but I'm too irresistible for him. Swallowing his pride, he finally agrees. It means I'm in his good graces, but more importantly he wants to see what his brilliant student is capable of. “Very well,” he smirks as he crosses his legs and watches me intently.

I smile again in anticipation and can't help but feel a little giddy as Professor Sallow commands me to stand up and stand before his desk so he can start the lesson. Once he sees that I’m ready, he begins to give me the basic instructions on preparing and aiming the Imperius Curse. It’s a rather straightforward spell, but it takes immense control to use. He explains the necessary motions of the spell, the wand movement one needs to make and the proper incantation. “Imperio. Remember, just like last time, you have to mean it.”

The professor nods firmly one last time. “I’ll take it nice and slow, I promise.” He raises his wand and points it towards me. He focuses his energy and takes a deep breath. “Imperio,” he says with a loud voice. The charm shoots out like a bolt of lightning. On contact, his spell takes over my mind and I find my control drifting away with no resistance to it. Even as I remain aware of what is going on, I realise that my body is beyond my control. I’m entirely under Professor Sallow’s command now.

As I feel the spell take effect, I can't fight the feeling of my movements being controlled by him, moving with a grace that I can't resist and it's as if I'm dancing for the professor, my body doing his bidding. I'm under his spell and like can't help but feel helpless yet excited.

I straighten my back unnaturally stiff and watch the professor with a bright green glow in my eyes. His own warm brown eyes that have always been so tempting have now been replaced by icy turquoise ones while he looks at me with a small snarl to keep the spell in control. As Sebastian watches me with a cautious expression, it’s clear how intrigued he is. To see someone else completely under his spell and under his control makes him feel powerful, just like it did all those years ago. But, he does make sure to keep things at a minimum, for it also requires him a ton of effort to cast the spell.

He leans back in his chair, observing me with a content grin on his lips. “I think this lesson is going quite well.” His eyes are glued to my every movement as if he was admiring a finely crafted sculpture. He decides that I should walk around the room, so I do just that. I walk around in the slow fluid motion following every command without question while he watches closely. “Good girl,” he matters under his breath with a deep satisfaction in his voice.

Professor Sallow's compliment sends my heart fluttering with excitement. I know that his words have more meaning behind them than just a harmless compliment. He's letting me know he approves of my efforts and enjoys my obedience to his command. The control he has over me is erotic and intoxicating for both of us and he seems to enjoy seeing me in this state. He just needs to sit back and watch me follow his commands as he enjoys the power he has over me.

After a few seconds, he gives me one more command to see how responsive I am. “Now I want you to hop over here to my side of the desk, just like a bunny.” his voice is strict but not harsh. “You will hop towards me and once you reach my chair, you will stop right in front of me. Can you do that?” He asks while he uses his feet to scoot back his chair a few feet, the wooden legs scraping against the floorboards. He swivels his chair to the side to await me on his side of the desk.

The professor watches me through his lashes with lowered brows. It’s quite clear that this command was a little bit more complicated than the previous one, but I had no problems complying, which is what excites him. The tent in his trousers is now on full display, but he doesn’t seem bothered to show it. He was right when he told me he was an expert at gauging one’s body language a few weeks ago, for he was aware of how much I desired him. However, what he didn’t realise was that there were cracks in his stoic exterior too, asking me to stay behind for five minutes after class to recommend another book was his moral way of telling me how much he craved me too. He takes a breath as he wants to test this spell and its effects further. I have the urge to hide my face as I hop over to him, but the spell makes it unable to do so and I simply continue making my way to the object of my desire. Professor Sallow lets out a small laugh as he sees me move. It’s quite amusing to him how embarrassed I look while jumping away.

“Imperio makes you look very adorable, sweetheart,” he remarks, his tone somewhat flirtatious. He knows that he can push the spell further, so he gives me yet another prompt. “So, can you tell me, what’s on your mind? How do you feel about me? I’ve done nothing to harm you and it seems you have a rather neutral impression of me.”

"I trust you,” I reply with a dull voice. My body is standing a few inches in front of his knees and the angel on my shoulder is thanking him that I’m still under his spell, since I would’ve begged him to take me already without that restraint.

His expression softens back to its previous stance and he smiles once again, a little more genuinely than previously as one of his knees extends and touches my shin. “You trust me?” He repeats with a hint of fondness in his voice while he licks his lips again. “That’s quite the statement to make about someone who’s essentially controlling you,” he chuckles. But, as he laughs, he is also flattered in a way. My statement just reaffirms the level of power and control he has over me, even without the Curse. “I suppose you are in safe hands.” Sebastian replies, being slightly sarcastic.

It was taking everything in him to not slide his hands up my skirt while I’m standing so close to him. His fingertips are still tingling and he figures it’s best to busy himself by rubbing his palms against his thighs to wipe off the sweat they had accumulated. He watches me for a little while longer, taking in the view from below me for a change. While he often towered over me to get a good look at my chest pushing out against my vest, it was a whole other experience to see them from below. Another thought occurs to him. “I’ve given you many commands so far. But I am curious about one more thing: what if I was to order you to do something that went against your morals?” He stares at my face for a few moments before he speaks up again, his voice now husky. "I command you to bend down and kiss my neck right now." He cocks his head backwards and lets his mouth fall open when he sees me bend down, my tits almost spilling out of my vest while my scent invades his nostrils. Internally, I’m on fire, and the devil on my shoulder is taking over.

Sebastian mutters a curse word as I bend down and kiss his neck. He can finally feel the soft touch of my lips against his skin and he feels goosebumps running along his body. His cock twitches in his boxers and he bites his lip again to restrain himself. He looks at me with narrowed eyes after I back away again and he slowly drags his tongue through his lips. “Well then, I have a final command for you.”

Feeling pleased by my performance under the Imperius Curse, he decides to take things up even further. He feels a sly grin creep up on his face and he stares deeply into my eyes to make sure the spell has taken effect properly. My obedience and blind trust in him is something he had already expected, but he is still extremely pleased with it nonetheless. After a moment, he speaks again, still carrying a husky voice. “I command you to come sit on my lap. Now, sweetheart. Show me why you’re my favourite student.”

I want to be faithful

I want to be raw

I want to be ignorant

And I want to know all

He spreads his muscular thighs apart in his leather chair and I immediately crawl onto Professor Sallow's lap, the sides of my bare thighs brushing against his wool trousers as I position my knees on either side of his legs. My blush deepens, but there's nothing else I can do to express my emotions. “Fuck!” I moan out internally. I feel dizzy from his closeness and his scent blends in the air and fills my sinuses with a pungent aroma. His member had always been impressive when it was contained during his lessons, but feeling it pressed up against my core made me dizzy with desire. If Sebastian wasn’t such a sadist, he would’ve lifted the Imperius Curse already to allow me to rut against him, begging him to take care of me and pound into my now soaked folds. But Sebastian has never been merciful. I had been teasing him since I got back from summer break, and now it was his turn to make me weak.

“Good girl,” he drags out a groan as he feels my wetness seeping into his trousers. He rests his hands on my plush thighs and stares deeply into my eyes through his lashes. “You’re quite a handful,” he says quietly again, voice dripping with faltered moans. The professor has never had anyone obey him like this. He stares into my eyes while his lips are only a few inches away. The way he is this close to me and this is only just the beginning causes a shiver to run down my spine.

"Look into my eyes," he requests. “You got a boyfriend, sweetheart?” I shake my head submissively and he immediately scoffs and mutters to himself. “No? Hmph– I always knew the male students’ intelligence went downhill after I left.” His flirtatious tone then changes to what sounds more romantic as he coos me with his next request. His mouth is still incredibly close and even under the corrupted spell I can almost taste the coffee he had earlier during dinnertime. "Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you, princess. Can you lean closer to me?”

That little extra inch puts me right in his personal space, so close to his lips that the coffee scent has now been replaced with pure saliva. Now that we’re a breath away from each other, he continues to whisper in a soft and romantic manner. “One more inch, please.” His heavy eyelids drop to my lips and he’s almost in a daze of his own. "Kiss me.”

As our lips meet, there's an electric charge that courses through our bodies, setting our nerves on fire. Every touch, every accidental brush of skin against skin, feels like a rebellion against the constraints that keep us apart. The kiss is fueled by a sense of urgency, as if we know that this moment might be fleeting, yet we’re willing to risk everything for just a taste of each other. It's a rush of emotions, a whirlwind of sensations that leaves us both breathless and wanting more. He holds my thigh with one arm while the other hand brushes against my cheek. Sebastian enjoys the kiss for a while before gradually pulling away again. He smiles softly and whispers. “That’s better.” With a content sigh he continues. “Could you lean in a little bit more now? Arch your back for me, sweetheart.”

The professor continues brushing his fingers through my hair as I lean my upper body in further and fully resting against him now. He stares at me once again with the same intent as before and whispers. “Now, I have one more command for you.”

He stares at me and makes no movement, letting his breath fan over my face. Without warning, he suddenly leans forward again and presses his lips against mine once again. The kiss is much more passionate than the previous one and he is not holding back on his desire, nipping on my bottom lip and exploring my mouth with his tongue, mapping it out to remember every wet corner for later use. He mumbles against my lips. "Take off my tie for me and unbutton my shirt, sweetheart.”

A jolt of pleasure shoots through both of our minds. I have been more submissive and obedient than he even imagined possible. At this point, he’s mentally cursing himself for still wearing his dark brown blazer, but Merlin, did he not want to move from this position with me finally on top of him like this. He breaks the kiss as he watches me begin to undo his brown tie. He leans in while I fumble with his shirt’s buttons and mutters against my neck, the heat of his breath against my skin sending involuntary shivers down my spine. “Good girl. When you have my tie undone, take your fingers under my collar and touch my collarbone.”

I slowly slide down and begin to lightly touch his collarbone and neck. As I do so, he places the hand from my thigh on the plump flesh of my behind, kneading his fingers into it to ground me while he whispers against my neck with a seductive tone. “Are you enjoying touching me?” He asks, letting his voice be as raw as it wants to be. He moves his head to the side slightly to make himself more accessible to me. “Because I love touching you, darling. I can tell you like that too, you’re already dripping through your little panties.”

"Yes." I voice breathlessly while the spell is still in control.

“Good girl,” Sebastian purrs in a voice that is filled with arousal and desire. “You are doing so well. Keep caressing me. Make me feel even better.” The professor is getting desperate as he feels my hands against him and his voice is sending shivers down my spine. He shivers in return as he feels my subtle touch making him incredibly hard and he leans closer once again. “Good girl. Move your hands a little bit lower now. Let them slide down to my belt,” he whispers softly against the skin below my ear before finishing his request with a wet kiss.

The heat from his body is intoxicating and I can feel him hardening against my core. He's taking control and I respond by simply touching him how he wants me to. I'm excited by the fact that I'm obeying the man I crave so much and my hands slide lower and lower while I feel his breath against his skin near my ear.

A low moan escapes Sebastian’s mouth as he continues to feel my touch travel down his chest towards his belt. “You are being such a good girl,” he growls against my neck while his other hand drifts away from my cheek to join the one already on my behind. He squeezes the flesh tightly and rocks me into him once, coaxing another moan from him that he muffles against my throat. He leans in closer even more and his breathing is getting a little more raspy as he becomes more aroused by my willingness. “Now, can you please undo my belt for me?”

My mind and body can feel every bit of the professor's arousal as he grabs my ass and rocks me into him. It's such a powerful sensation that fills my body with excitement, goosebumps lingering on my skin. I know he has waited too long for a chance like this and I'm ready to fill his desire. The moment the clasp is undone, he leans in extremely close to kiss me fervently this time. The kiss is much more passionate than before. The professor is now much more aggressive in his kissings. His eyes are closed and he is moving his tongue into my mouth while his hands grip tightly onto the sides of my body and hold me still against him. He keeps letting out a series of low moans and sounds of pleasure. His breathing grows even heavier the longer the kiss goes on and the more I let him be in control of. Eventually, he is the one who ends the kiss. He slowly breaks away and whispers with a predatory tone.

“You’re such a good girl for letting me touch you like this. Can you continue caressing me now and let your fingers slide even lower? You can slide them over my pants as low as you want to.” Professor Sallow leans back a little bit, watching my movement closely. He loves seeing me willingly sliding my hands along his body, especially the lower I go. He loves knowing I’m just letting him have his pleasure.

He moves his head closer to me once again, speaking softly. “Keep going down…go ahead…don’t be afraid to keep going lower.” The professor's voice is dripping with suggestive and seductive tones as he lets out another low moan as I keep going lower. “Keep going, sweetheart,” he yearned.

His breathing is getting a little bit more erratic now as he watches me move my hands further down. My fingers are almost brushing against his inner thigh by now. The professor is breathing heavily now as my hands near his inner thigh. He is loving this sensation. The professor even bites his lip a little bit and lets out a low exhale before speaking again. “Keep going lower, you can slide your hands underneath the waistband of my pants now...if you’re brave.” He lets out his last statement in a challenge. It’s a challenge he knows I’m more than willing to accept. “Don’t close your eyes, darling. Keep looking at me. Only me.”

Sebastian’s voice begins to sound a bit desperate now and I can tell that he is growing quite aroused. My fingers are moving lower and lower, finally moving underneath the waistband of his pants and this is where the professor really gets excited and almost completely loses his self-control. He suddenly lets out a loud moan and his breathing grows even more erratic as he stares at me in complete pleasure. My fingertips slide along his inner thigh, teasing him and sending shivers of pleasure through his body. I can feel his warmth through the fabric and the feeling sends goosebumps all over my body once again. He continues to watch me intently, his breath hot against my neck.

He suddenly grabs hold of me and pulls me closer so that I'm now completely on top of him in his office chair. He leans in to kiss me and wraps his arms around my body and starts caressing my neck. The sensation is clearly too much for him as his breathing becomes quite heavy. “This is so wrong,” he murmurs against my hot mouth. My body was already doing a lot for him but now with my fingers sliding underneath his waistline, he's almost completely losing himself. He takes a moment to collect himself and gives a firm nod. I swore I could see the warmth seep back into his brown eyes but I was still too overwhelmed to fully focus. “Keep going. Keep sliding your fingers.” He growls. “Please.”

The professor breaks the kiss and pulls his face away so that he’s only somewhat in control of himself and can breathe. His voice is still dripping with pleasure and he can’t stop letting out low moans and heavy breaths while he searches my face for hesitation while my fingers are performing nonverbal magic in his boxers, teasing him by tracing my delicate fingers over his pelvis.

I want to die someday

I want to live long

I want what I ask for

And I get what I want

“Fuck–uh!” He grunts and is now in complete loss of his normally composed and strict nature from being so aroused. His voice sounds like it is on the verge of begging me to touch him and he dips his head back against the top of his chair. “Slower, sweetheart, I want to make this last,” he breathes out.

But, that’s when my fingers are wrapping around the base of the professor’s thick member, the side of my hand brushing against his stubble there. Professor Sallow practically bellows a low moan and a shiver shoots through his body. He presses his boots down on the floor firmly and involuntarily thrust his cock into my hand while his fingers are still wrapped in my hair. His breathing is extremely heavy and he practically doesn’t breathe at all for a split-second, just staring at me in complete shock at how incredible I make him feel. He breaks the silence by speaking very softly and quietly.

“God…that’s…so incredible,” the professor whispers softly, taking a deep calming breath before looking back at me. “Your fingers feel incredible, sweetheart.” The professor lays back in his chair and stares at me with a look of complete delight and satisfaction. He is truly enjoying my touch and he doesn’t seem to want me to stop. “Can you keep going? Up and down, sweetheart,” he whispers. “Keep going and don’t stop, darling.”

My fingers wrap around his cock and my touch is sending his body into a frenzy of arousal. He's breathing heavily now and I can't help but get excited about how much he's enjoying my every move. Sebastian's words are almost like a beg and an order. I'm his student and he's letting me make him mine this way. It's a power trip for both of us.

“Take it like a big girl for me, I know you can,” he whispers against my neck and I obey, rubbing him with more rhythm and speed. He moans into my neck muffling the sound while panting. He's lost in ecstasy, feeling lost in my touch that leaves him moaning and gasping for air. He's watching me with hazy eyes, his cheeks red and body shaking. He leans in and kisses me once again, this time in a much more aggressive way than before and I continue the sensation for several more minutes, continuing my hand movement as the professor leans back in his chair and enjoys it. Finally, he breaks the kiss with a slight moan. “Stop for just a moment,” he says. He pauses a moment before speaking again, this time with a much more gentle tone. “Thank you.”

He sits back up straight in his chair and looks at me. He is out of his trance of pleasure now and looks like his normally composed and stoic self again. “Your fingers felt amazing,” he continues. “You definitely know how to please a man, sweetheart. Go ahead and cast an anti-unlocking charm on the door for me. I'll give your House five points if you succeed. I don't want anyone to walk in while I'm balls deep inside that pretty little mouth of yours.”

He leans back again and smiles at me while my coated fingers search along his desk behind me to locate my wand. When I'm done casting the spell Professor Sallow pushes me down by my hair to kneel on the floor between his knees. He looks down at me with his slight smile on my face. He's clearly enjoying the sight of me between him and he seems a bit more gentle with me now. “Well done,” he continues. “There’s a good girl.”

His voice is soothing as he strokes my hair with his hand, letting his other hand venture onto my shoulder. I feel his touch and it sends shivers down my spine. The calloused hand moves along my shoulder and trails along my neck moving further up towards my cheek before he gently pulls me along his thigh. “Suck on it,” Sebastian grunts while grabbing his cock at its base and guiding it to my plump lips. I feel them part to make room for his throbbing tip and he gently lowers my head to let my mouth envelop him.

His body is starting to shake and the little grunts he's making are becoming increasing and more frequent. He trembles, the heat coming from him is intoxicating, and it almost seems like he can't handle it anymore when I feel his member twitching. “Merlin, you feel heavenly around me, little minx,” he moans in a raspy voice. My head is pressed against him and he's bringing his other hand down my throat, wrapping his fingers slowly around the base of my neck while he starts guiding my head up and down his throbbing manhood, deepthroating him while he squeezes my neck to tighten it even more around him. Luckily, the Imperius Curse allows for my gag reflex to completely disappear, allowing my throat to let wet sounds escape from his intrusion.

I fuck 'cause I need to

I fuck when I want

I'll fuck you in love

Even though it is not

“You are so beautiful between my thighs, sweetheart. Ugh– Breathe through your nose, love.” He's holding me close to him and I can feel every inch of him pulsing inside my mouth. Sebastian leans down to place a kiss on my hair and leans back again, allowing the hand that isn’t in my throat to gather my hair into a messy ponytail to guide me even further.

“That’s it, my dear,” he groans in desperation, desire and pure lust. His pace quickens and my nose is pressed against his pelvis while he holds me against it for a few seconds before pushing me back again, his pants rubbing against the sides of my face rhythmically. My breath is hot on his skin and he can feel every inch of my mouth and throat enveloping him as he moans lowly and starts grinding his hips against me, fucking into my throat. “You’re such a good student. Always so eager to learn, to– Hmph– to please me. Always looking at me with those needy eyes of yours.”

“Your top is always so tight, you almost look like you're wearing your vest from first-year. Argh– Wish I could stick my cock between those pretty tits and– Argh– fuck them.” He's getting more urgent and his body is moving faster and faster against me as he pulls me closer. The friction is causing both of us to sweat and he moves his hips against my mouth in an energetic manner while letting out more and more raspy sounds. He's getting rougher and his breath is hot and heavy as he grinds against me. The filthy words coming from Sebastian’s mouth are getting louder and he’s no longer even trying to hide it. He bites his hand to suppress a loud moan and grips my ponytail harder causing my hair to get dishevelled even more. His mouth is open and he's making noise with each inhale and exhale, breathing hard like he's doing cardiovascular exercise while squeezing my throat.

Professor Sallow’s fingers slide through my hair to gently pull it out of my face and he loosens his grip, letting both of his hands hold the side of my head as he lets out another grunt. I can feel my breath quickening and I feel every pulse of his hot blood rushing through him, each push accompanied by the sound of a grown or a breathy moan. “Who's my pretty girl? Say it,” he commands while his muscles start tightening and the veins in his arms almost explode through his blazer, his charming voice dripping with desperation to cum and claim my mouth.

The moment I murmur my name around his cock the vibration makes his balls tighten. He growls and his hips stutter in response and his hands drift from the sides of my head to my cheeks, holding them with a gentle touch. “That’s it,” He replies with a raspy voice. “I’m about to– I’m close, keep going,” he adds in a hoarse breath. His grunts are getting louder and they mix with the sounds of my saliva drooling out of my mouth while I continue my rocking motion with more urgency.

His breathing is becoming more shallow and his curls have started hanging over his eyebrows while he keeps his head lowered, muttering curses and filth under his breath as he focuses on the feeling of my tongue swirling around him and the sight of my hollowed cheeks. His entire world stops and his glare becomes more intense when he feels his climax approach him like a tidal wave, though he can’t fight the overwhelming sensation and his eyes roll into the back of his head, his breath hitching and body trembling, his words become more and more strained. “Swallow it, darling, all of it. Hmph, need you to be full of me, to have your tongue taste like my cum.”

Then, as soon as he feels me start swallowing his tip, he can’t stop from exploding into my mouth, his face tightening for a split-second while a strangled grunt escapes his gritted teeth. He pushes my face down again to fully take him while he coats my throat, and when he’s fully spent, he pulls my face off him. I can’t help but pant while looking up at him with my open mouth, letting his cum slightly drool out of my mouth while doing so.

Sebastian’s eyes are half-closed and his freckled cheeks are flushed while a few brown curls stick to his forehead as he catches his breath. He takes two big fingers to collect the cum on my chin and pushes it back into my mouth, caressing my tongue with it before pulling me back up to his mouth and kissing me passionately again. He lets his lips smack against mine as his tongue tastes mine again and he strokes my cheeks softly. After a few moments, he pulls back slightly and watches me again, a twinkle of lust still present in his eyes, but there’s also a hint of true affection still present in them.

“I’ll see you tomorrow for more. Same rules as today.” The professor says in an authoritative and strong manner even though he is trying to keep his calm demeanour while tucking away his spent cock and fixing my appearance with a gentle, caring touch. When he sees me nod obediently, his soft eyes return. “Good girl. Just like I want you to be.” Sallow responds and his voice is back to its normal soothing and smooth tone. “Same time. Same place.”

I blush deeply and get off his lap with shaking legs, still not believing what just happened and feeling embarrassed. As I stand up, he smiles once more. He can tell that I enjoyed the whole experience but am still a bit shy about it and his eyes are glued to mine as he enjoys seeing me a little flustered and embarrassed. “You okay?” Sebastian asks in a slightly coy but still caring manner. “You got quite red there…”

I bite my lip and look away, torn between wanting to lay my cards out on the table, and keeping the status quo. "I shouldn't have..." I repeat quietly. He's a bit surprised by my mixed emotions right now. Sebastian realises that there seems to be some internal guilt or confusion about the whole situation, so he continues speaking softly and sensitively, but still maintains his teasing and seductive tone. “Look at me.” He waits for me to make eye contact with him and then he speaks again. “Tell me you didn't enjoy touching your teacher like that.”

I look at the professor with an embarrassed expression and a sheepish smile while I clench my fists by my side and rub my thighs together to shift my soaked panties against my core. "Professor, when did you end the mind control spell?”

“I ended the spell right around when we first got really excited. So…yes, you were under the spell for a bit, but I ended it when you started sliding your fingers under my waistline.” He explains, smiling softly at me as he keeps his eyes locked on mine. “You did that 100% voluntarily, sweetheart. I saw your natural eye colour return immediately when I lifted it. The spell was long gone and it was all you with those hands and that movement… And that exquisite mouth of yours,” he ends with a teasing smirk and a lip bite. Professor Sallow is enjoying my shy reaction to hearing that information and my blush deepens even more. "I shouldn't have..." I repeat quietly, though I'm even less convinced of my own words now.

“You shouldn’t have?” He chuckles with a hint of a condescending tone and shakes his head at me. “What’s the matter, darling? Did you feel like that was wrong for some reason? It felt pretty correct to me, especially after all those months of you teasing me like a little whore.”

"Sir, I–" I look away in shame. “I know what you feel, darling. You feel guilty. You feel as if you shouldn’t have done that. But I’ll tell you one thing, sweetheart…” The professor pauses for a moment and takes my hands in his, squeezing them tightly. “You’ve got nothing to feel guilt or shame over. You enjoyed what we did today and I did too. We can feel good about it and not have to feel guilty about anything. The whole experience was pretty incredible in my opinion.” Sallow lets out a low chuckle. He wants to see how I respond to his next statement. “You know what the worst part about this whole situation is, darling?”

"What?”

He looks at me and lifts a hand to kiss it gently. “The worst part about today is that now, I want more of you…and I’m sure I can get more of you tomorrow, just like today, without the Imperius Curse. Right?”

"Are we doing the same thing tomorrow?" I blush, feeling a pang of desire shoot through me.

“That's for me to know and for you to find out.” The professor chuckles to himself. He’s quite enjoying my excitement and anticipation for tomorrow’s session. “I will promise you one thing though…”

He leans in and towers over me. “You won’t be going to your dorm tomorrow night without me having tasted every inch of your body. I can guarantee you that.”

I gasp softly and gulp, my body is still trembling with unreleased desires.

“I’ll let you think about that until tomorrow, sweetheart.” The professor leans back and smiles once again, almost completely in his normal composed nature now since he has satisfied his own desires. “I’ll need you to do something for me before you go though.” He says, a serious tone returning to his voice once more. “I want to make sure you won’t go running to the headmaster and complaining about anything we did, so now I must ask you…” His voice is warm but still has that hint of concern for you to it. “Did I do anything wrong to you today? I didn’t hurt you at all, did I? Everything was completely consensual, correct?”

I hesitate, thinking about my answer. That part was sort of a blur, but I can confidently say that the professor did respect all of my boundaries. At the very least, he did make me feel amazing and I've been dreaming about this for months. “Well…Yes, I guess you didn’t make me feel wrong.” I mutter with a sheepish blush after a long moment of consideration, still too embarrassed to bluntly admit just how soaked my panties are. “But… What if someone were to find out?”

“Let me ease all of those worries right now, darling.” The professor squeezes my hands reassuringly and looks me in the eyes. “No one will find out. We’re doing this only here, always with the door and curtains completely closed, and no one knows that I'm making you feel good. My word is as good as gold that you will be able to continue trusting me. There are many possible explanations for your frequent visits to my classroom. And as for why you stay such a long time with the curtains closed, well…” The professor pauses, letting his tone turn back into a teasing and seductive manner as he speaks again. “I think you can probably think of some very fun and entertaining explanations for all of that to any outsider. If you’re smart enough, you can put on an innocent mask and nobody will know what we’re really doing here.”

Slowly, a small, reassured smile creeps up on my face and I nod after taking his words into consideration. “Good girl. And remember…” I'm expecting the professor to say something more or maybe tease me again once more, but this time it is different. He looks at me straight in the eyes one last time and gives me the most genuine, affectionate, and loving smile that he’s ever given me before. “That I care about you.”

I'll fucking digest you

One kiss at a time

You wish I was yours

And I hope that you're mine

I let my gaze linger on the professor for a few moments longer than necessary and nod again, taking his words to heart before I let go of his hands and start making my way to the door, now feeling more relieved that Professor Sallow has confessed his fondness of me. The professor follows my every step with his eyes as I make my way out of the door. When I open it, the professor calls out to me one last time.

“See you tomorrow, sweetheart. Go relieve yourself now and make sure you don’t forget to cast Silencio on your bed.” He winks playfully and gives a teasing nod towards my skirt.

"See you tomorrow, Professor Sallow." I blush deeply once again before closing the door behind me and walking down the stairs of the DADA classroom, clenching my thighs together and sprinting to my dormitory.

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow fanfic

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padawansuggest · 4 months

Note

Ok, so I was supposed to draw one small fanart, but I got carried away and created an au ^^''

Jedi cats Au

(Disaster lineage edition)

Yoda: Small green cat with tufts of white fur on his tail tip and across his spine. He loves being cuddled by the younglings as he tells them stories(basically their therapy, grandfather cat) and going on occasional trips to Dagobah for meditation (at least, that's his excuse). What he really does there is hunting frogs(he claims they're good for his bones) and camping out in the swamp(the whole trip traumatizing Dooku in the process).

Dooku: Huge white cat with brittle yellow eyes and spiked-up fur. He doesn't change much in his cat form, but when he does, he spends most of his time sunning himself on the council chairs(you can't blame him, cats can't resist such a good sunning spot), skulks around the temple corridors looking elegant and graceful, and steals sith holocrons out of nowhere so he could 'study' them(they were later confiscated and thrown out of the temple when Qui found out). He never lets anybody pet him except for Sifo, Jocasta, Qui, and sometimes Yoda(his adoptive father figure), or Obi-wan(his grandson whom he's secretly proud of)

Qui-Gon: Greyish brown cat with long silky fur and leaf-green eyes. He mostly hangs out on the temple's huge tree or goes on trips to Lothal to have tea with Loth-cats and wolves. (The Loth-cats kind of worship him as their 'god', and the wolves invite him and his apprentice for night strolls and 'singing to the moon' meetings)

He also randomly adopts kittens(padawans; in this case, Obi-wan, Anakin, and recently Ahsoka)

Obi-wan: Small auburn cat with darker splotches and grey-blue eyes. He's smaller than his apprentice but twice the sassiness. Cody loves to cuddle him and stroke his soft fur for hours while talking about how his day went(Obi doesn't mind^^). As a kitten, he constantly kept Qui company while he studied at night(at least that's what he says when Qui complains about his student/son being annoyingly cute and knocking over his mug of tea on purpose every five minutes).

Anakin: Brown tabby emo with sky-blue eyes. He hates sand, is very chaotic in many ways, and has a talent for annoying Obi(he actually passes down his 'abilities' to Ahsoka, who becomes more like her master). He also holds a record of being the most troublesome padawan in existence.

Despite all this, Padme finds him adorable (he often sneaks out of the temple in his cat form to meet his gf), but Obi-wan and Ahsoka know better(sure, he's nice and charming, yet can also be pretty stupid and reckless).

Ahsoka: Sleek, lithe, orange cat with white tail and blue stripes. Her Lekku still exists in her cat form as well as her facial markings(the Lekku are used to communicate with other cats or Jedi, and also play an important part in balancing their bodies while they leap agily or pelt across obstacles at high speed).

Toruguti cats have very short, smooth fur on their bodies(the pelts are mostly an orangish hue, with blue stripes appearing on the back of their flanks as they get older), but their tails are often white, bushy and flecked with blue stripes.

She's one of the 501'th's favorites because she often hangs out with Rex and the clones(sharing stories, playing games... etc)(the clones especially love placing random things on her head until she moves). As her species are carnivores, she has an instinct for hunting small animals(sometimes leaving her half-dead prey on Anakin's desk like the cheeky adorable prankster she is).

I might upload some headcanons and designs btw

Have a nice day ^^

😭 NOT OBI CUB LOOKIN LIKE A LIL LIPN CUB PLZZZZZZ😭

Lil baby man who looks like an infant permanently no wonder he wants a beard so bad in human form.

Soka’s Lekku is so cute and I love how pissy Ani is. They’re all precious to me. Swamp kitty Yoda is so perfect.

#Jedi are cats #star wars

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froggirleyeball · 8 months

Text

Namaqua Rain Frog

AKA namaqua short-headed frog, Breviceps namaquensis

A round little fellow!

These guys live in Namaqualand and Namibia, in southern Africa. Their toes aren't webbed, and they spend most of their time underground, only coming out after it rains to look for tasty insects.

When threatened, they squeak and inflate to deter predators! I don't think I'd be deterred at all, they're such little cuties!

When they lay eggs, they cover them up in thick yolk-y fluid and the tadpoles live there until grown. Interesting tactic, that.

#frogs #rain frogs #african frogs #brown frogs #namaqua rain frog #namaqua short-headed frog #breviceps namaquensis

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munsster · 2 years

Text

that everything feeling

A/N: i love s3 and i love s3 steve in his s3 scoops ahoy shorts. so i like basically did a mini s3e7-8 rewrite??? but it’s not serious. and now there's this

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!GN!Reader

Summary: You (Henderson!Reader) despise Steve Harrington, but the end of the world (and your little brother's gang) has other plans for you. 2.6k words

Warnings: season 3 major spoilers (lol), canon-level gore, blood & vomit & drugs, kissing (ew right), fluff, cursing, drugged steve, more kissing & cursing

Steve is basically limp against you, and you have to laugh at how quickly the Russian amphetamines went right to his head and turned him into a walking slinky. Well, more stumbling than walking. You also have to laugh at the awful situation Dustin and his little shit friends left you with: dragging their half-concussed babysitter through the mall rapidly away from a troop of bodybuilder-types foaming at the mouth and hungry for blood.

Speak of the devil, two of the brick shithouses in question—each larger than both you and Steve combined—come barreling against foot traffic in your direction, though not quite at you, which is somewhat of a relief because there’s a chance to escape. Still, your heart is pounding deep in your ears—something that always sends you in a stupid direction. So with your fingers wrapped around Steve’s bright red neckerchief, chanting ‘please be unlocked, please be unlocked’, you yank the door to one of the mall’s storage closets wide open and tug him in after you.

“Woah,” he sighs, putting a hand on his sinking chest, and when you look at him, he’s marveling up at the ceiling, and you’re about to slap him across the face if he utters one more drug-induced adage. “Did I just die? Is this what the afterlife is like?” His eyes go wide as saucers when he turns to stare at you, suddenly bursting with giddy, schoolboy laughter.

You clap your hand over his mouth and guide him deeper into the pitch-black room at the sound of muffled shouting beyond the reinforced plywood door. He trips over a fallen broom, knocking himself off balance enough to instinctively anchor to your waist and slump back against a wall of stocked shelves. And he has the audacity to ‘ouch’ when an empty spray bottle bounces against his skull to the floor.

As much as you’re against Steve Harrington, you do have to give the bastard credit; he has a very natural charm about him that you can’t stay mad at for very long. Which is why you’re going easy on him today: not ribbing him for his reckless abandon and motherly love for the kids. He clearly cares, or else he would’ve let someone else take the hit. I mean, he’s got those gorgeous, brown eyes, all honey in the sun and starry. He hums against your hand and shuts them. But in a frog way, one after the other. And you’re almost relieved. A moment of silence, at last.

“Did you just lick me?”

You flick your hand away and wipe it down his shoulder with a killer glare, and he’s back to laughing his stoned ass off. But your fed up meter is boiling over, and those pairs of boots thudded along a while ago, so you slip your fingers between his and pull him along into the now unlit foodcourt, checking behind you every couple of steps to make sure he’s not facedown on the linoleum. That would be seriously inconsiderate seeing as he’s caked in blood, and it would suck to have to wipe that up on minimum wage.

“Um…” he huffs, tightening his iron grip on your hand and halting to a wavering stop next to the centerpiece fountain. He looks seasick and pale and moist, and you don’t need to hear him to know that when he says, “I’m gonna yak,” he’s being dead serious.

“Oh my God, Steve, you’ve gotta be kidding me”—you’re suddenly panicked when he tugs at the collar of his uniform with his brows drawn taut together—“okay, okay, where are the bathrooms, they’re—holy shit, across the mall. Nevermind—”

“Sink,” he grumbles, finding his shaky footing a few steps ahead of you, hand in clammy hand.

“What?”

“How ‘bout a sink?” He presses on, and you’re compelled to let him drag you around tables and chairs because he feels so sure and set, and you’re not one to deny a bleeding, more-than-slightly intoxicated man. You bare your teeth in a fake, almost worried grin.

“Steve, you’re drugged, where the fuck are we supposed to find a sink”—and in that second, you look up at the flickering LED sign—“Scoops.” From which epiphany, you take the lead, pushing him at the hips around the counter, through the swinging door, straight towards the deep, aluminum sink that he dunks his head into and proceeds to violently spew into.

You take to fiddling around the room, including but not limited to: dragging your finger across the dusty, steel table, opening and closing the service window, and reaching for the top of one of the shelves only for two ice cream scoops to clatter to the floor and scare you shitless.

“Nice,” Steve chuckles, running the faucet and wiping his cupped palm down his chin. He reaches forward and flicks three light switches, illuminating the baby blue room and the storefront with a warm and buzzing fluorescence. You gasp when he spins on his heel.

“You’ve got blood all over you,” you say. Because you knew he got jostled around pretty bad back there, but you didn’t think it would stain his shirt or earn him an insane shiner.

He looks down and shrugs. “Hey, handsome’s gotta do what handsome’s gotta do, okay?”

You roll your eyes and back up through the door to the front and nod him along before ducking down to locate the first aid kit and set it next to the register. “Come here,” you coo, “in the light.”

“Woah, bossy… okay,” he says, following you and bumping his hip against the counter and watching you flip the case open, digging around with both hands. He smiles sweetly when you stick the tip of your tongue out while taking out stacks of paper-sealed supplies, frantically scanning labels and directions.

“Okay,” you huff. You tear a small, white square open between your teeth and unfold the antiseptic wipe seated inside it. In one hand, you hold Steve’s jaw, tugging him closer while the other carefully cleans the blood spattered around his bruised eye. He hisses and latches one hand into the side of your shirt.

In tandem, you both “Sorry!”, and chuckle a little, and he’s still holding your waist, but you’re still holding him and tilting his face toward the light. You open a new parcel and dab the wipe at the cut below his lip. He squints his eyes shut, grunting and shifting his weight slowly.

“D’you want a bandaid for that?”

He shakes his head.

“Just gonna tough it out?”

A blossoming yet stubborn smirk gives him that signature shithead appeal, and you guess it’s conditional when he says, “They don’t call me ‘the king’ for nothing.”

“Nobody calls you that anymore.” You let go of him and shove the leftover wipes and bandaids into your pockets.

“Yes, they do.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“They so do.”

“Okay, name one person who calls you that.”

He scoffs. “Your brother.”

“Half brother.”

“Whatever,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest, “he thinks I’m cool.”

“For your sake, I really hope Dustin respects himself a little more than that.” You crouch down to slide the kit back onto its shelf before popping up and smiling in Steve’s face. And he clenches his jaw, trying not to glance at your lips for too long.

“Wait,” he thinks out loud, “half? Same dad?” And c’mon, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“No, same mom. And it means you suck, Harrington, and my brother is definitely cooler than you,” you say, eyes suddenly wide and pleading, “don’t tell him I said that.”

“Oh, I’m gonna tell him.”

“Steve, don’t.” You poke his shoulder, and he tosses his head back to laugh. You look so serious, it makes his stomach hurt a little, but he’s glad he can still make you laugh when you look down for a second to hide a smile.

“Fine, fine, I won’t.” He shrugs, and you groan.

“Liar.” You turn to walk away, but before you can even move, your foot slips on the wipe, which would’ve sent you flying backward with a split skull if Steve hadn’t caught you and pulled you hard against his chest.

“Woah, don’t go falling for me now,” he teases. And despite how lighthearted he tries to sound, you can hear the deepset worry in his throat making his voice thick and breathy. “At least let me get changed, yunno, all that blood—”

“Shut up.”

He’s a little confused when he looks at you and you’re clearly not poking for fun. You’re straight-faced, and his stomach churns so delightfully when you curl your fingers into his shoulder. You don’t know if whatever this is is mutual when his eyes go a little glossy and his cheeks blush pink and warm. Your heart is wild and deafening and you think this feeling is nice. Like it could stay this way, and you wouldn’t even question it.

Because in reality, it’s already like this most of the time. Tip-toeing around and teasing each other like you’re some kind of forbidden fruit. Like it wouldn’t be fair to have each other. To care about each other even though you might as well. You might as well when you keep glancing down at his mouth shamelessly. When he brings his hands closer together around your back, there’s nothing louder than your blood like water in your ears.

You don’t even hear yourself whisper, “please,” but Steve sure as hell does.

He nods, feeling the curve of your spine, mapping you out because even though he can’t work a compass, he’s pretty sure you’re his true north. It’s not a hallucination when he leans closer or when you move your fingers so gently up the back of his head.

“Holy shit, there you are!” Dustin hollers, and you let out a heavy breath and draw yourself quickly away from Steve who shuts his eyes and pushes a hand through his hair. You hop over and scoop your brother into your arms. He groans, still patting your back reluctantly and saying, “We gotta go.”

…

Why you’re standing at the top of a hill watching these actual children babble into walkie-talkies is beyond your comprehension. You’re pretty sure even Steve gets it at this point. Though, he does call you over after spending a couple minutes listening to your brother and his staticky lady friend. Which is exactly why you agree and follow him blindly.

“I just need a little help pushing it out of the mud,” he sighs, gesturing over to the Cadillac slowly sinking into the grassy sloped meadow.

“‘Kay.”

He slumps into the driver’s side and pats the seat next to him, urging you to open the door with a sigh and slip into passenger. Turning the key, the car chokes a little before starting up, and Steve reaches across for the back of your seat, putting the car in reverse, and hiding a smile in his shoulder when it easily glides backward a few feet down the hill.

“Well… that was easy,” he mumbles. Your jaw ticks, and you look at him with a stupidly cheeky and incredibly feigned smile. Getting out of the car, you groan up the hill, and Steve fumbles for the door handle after shutting the car off.

“Wait,” he calls, and when you try to ignore him, “Wait!”

“What do you want, Harrington?”

His confidence falters a little with a dent in the soft earth, and you keep walking as if he’s not crazy about you. As if you don’t know and feel the exact same. But you’re sure nobody’s ever been crazy about you before, and this is Steve Harrington you’re dealing with. And then he’s shouting after you.

“Kiss me.”

Even your lungs go silent at that. You pause only for a step, recovering when you hear him get close and shuffle in the grass. What you don’t expect is him jogging far enough to wrap his hand around your wrist and stop you short of the shining horizon of Hawkins.

You turn, and Steve looks insane. Hair mussed, chin split, and eye swelled, but you bite the inside of your cheek because under it all, he’s handsome. More than a young adult boy should be, and when he says, “kiss me,” again, you believe it. He’s charismatic and thoughtful and he loves your brother almost as much as you do, and you wonder what stopped you all these years. Maybe it was impending doom, and now that it’s closer than before, maybe you’re feeling manic.

But maybe that’s okay.

“You’re high,” you whisper, “you don’t know what you want.”

“Come on, don’t do that. You were there when I puked up just about everything, right?” He wants to admit that right now, there’s nothing in his system but you and your smile. You’re in him like a sugar high; he can’t pinpoint the cause, and he knows he’d do it again. No matter how much you’d tease him for being cheesy, he’s serious. And with him looking into you like this, you feel insane. His brown eyes give you the stars and the everything above.

“I know what I want,” he says, squeezing your hand and guiding you closer. This is definitely not spur of the moment, unless this moment has lasted three years. He wants you close. Closer, even, than this, with you hovering like body heat though the night is cold and makes him rethink. But every time he does, he feels the same. “And I think you do, too.”

You reach up to cup the side of his neck, rubbing your thumb along his throat and trying to ignore the way your eyes water and cloud your vision.

“Hey,” he whispers, tucking his knuckles under your chin and pecking your temple, finally gathering you in his arms and rubbing your back, leaving another kiss against the crown of your skull. You lift your head, and he chuckles at the smear of blood down the bridge of your nose.

“Oh,” you huff, smiling and wiping your sleeve across your face. But looking up at him makes you feel embarrassed. Batshit and bothered and shy. He looks at you like it’s you. Everything, always.

And you hook your arms around his shoulders and catch his mouth with yours, grinning and going back for another when he holds you tighter than before. Your teeth click a little, but you figure it out, and you feel light at the noises he makes. No more ache and hurt and strain, just his soft lips pressed to yours. Just his palms sliding up your back. Just his smile and yours.

“Jesus Christ!” Dustin shouts from the top of the hill, “I called it—Woo-hoo!” Steve snorts when Erica slaps a five into Dustin’s waiting palm. You look at Steve and even past that to the sky, the open air and its stars. He smiles and kisses the corner of your mouth. You blink and grin before your eyes drift down to Hawkins. And Starcourt.

But your eyes go wide, and its not amazement when you mutter, “Holy shit.”

masterlist

#stranger things #joe keery #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #fluff #steve fluff #stranger things fluff #st3 #st3 spoilers #steve harrington #steve #steve harrington x reader #henderson!reader #gn!reader #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #*

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dragonnan · 17 days

Text

Secret

May Prompts 2024

Full disclosure this is a completed story on AO3. However this fit the prompt perfectly and this is not a story that has seen much attention so double bonus! Haha!

May 12: "Secret"

It had all started in Dartmoor.

It had nearly been 2am by the time they'd finished up at the field and had staggered back to the hotel. Sherlock had left hours earlier so John had offered to remain behind with Greg while they had filled in the local constabulary; a greying man a year out from retirement along with his replacement-in-training. Well out of his jurisdiction, and glad of it, Greg had suggested a stop at the hotel bar before heading off to bed. John had been more than happy to erase the evening in alcohol and they'd ended up having several drinks before finally splitting off towards their respective rooms. The room he shared with Sherlock was dark when John wrestled his key into the lock and swung the door. Opting to spare his vision, he switched on only the bedside lamp – filling a corner of the room with a warm yellow glow. The bed was empty, of course. The bar had been empty of everyone save himself and Greg so it was anyone's guess as to where Sherlock had wandered off. No doubt burning off the events of the night in his own way, John didn't dwell on the other man's fluctuating mood – moving instead towards the loo... only to find the door locked.

“Sherlock?” A double rap of knuckles met only silence. “Sherlock, you alright? Open the door.”

“John?” The soft warble of his voice was enough to pump a shot of adrenaline through John's chest – alarm pushing him to rap the door a bit more firmly. “Sherlock, let me in.”

“John? What's wrong?” The voice came from behind him, this time; Greg rubbing at his forehead and looking about as knackered as John felt and far worse than he should be feeling after just two pints. Granted, it had been preceded by drugged mist, explosions, and giant dogs.

“It's Sherlock. Not sure what's going on,” he filled in softly. Greg, for his part, moved to rubbing his eyes.

“Well, aye, he's probably just paggered.”

An odd scramble followed Greg's comment. And then there was the sound of breaking glass.

“Shit,” setting his feet, John didn't hesitate in throwing his shoulder against the door – forcing it open onto another shadowed room. More scrambling followed – like something hard scraping against wood – and then Sherlock gave a short yelp and the shower curtain collapsed just as Greg blasted the room with the overhead light. John winced at the retina blinding afterimage – groaning as he pressed his palms against his eyes.

“Christ, ta for that...”

Eyes slow to adjust with the near blinding, it took John a moment to focus on the figure wrapped up in plastic. The curtain, with its pattern of small frogs in sailor hats, jutted up in a way suggesting something sharp was tenting it. Now fully in the tub, Sherlock had curled into himself as much as the limited space would allow.

“Please, don't... I'm fine.”

“Bollocks, you're fine,” John muttered; reaching for the curtain and pulling it aside...

Greg actually stumbled back – knocking something over that John couldn't be arsed to care about because his focus was completely on the figure huddled before him.

It was Sherlock... or... what looked like Sherlock. But...

“Good Christ, are those antlers?”

John shook his head, hard, with eyes squeezed tight. That fucking mist. No doubt still in their systems and an evening of drinking couldn't have helped matters. “Dammit, we're still hallucinating.”

An unexpectedly wild giggle burst from Lestrade. “Oh, ya think, do ya? Naw, I was thinking Sherlock literally turned into a bloody antelope!”

“Faun.” Both of them, now, looked back to Sherlock who still had antlers and, from the waist downward, a heavy layer of reddish brown fur, a scattering of dainty white spots, and...

“Hooves. He's got hooves.” John made that statement with the observation of someone of whom fate had delivered into madness. Of course he had hooves. He was half a deer, apparently.

Groaning, Greg staggered back towards the main room to drop into a chair. “Is it normal for a drug to last this long? I mean, I've done a fair bit of reading on the effects of stuff like cocaine and marijuana and even methamphetamines but this just seems...”

“Potent...” John offered – still transfixed by the absolute realness of the fantastical nature of Sherlock's form; as well as the fact that, aside from the rapidly fading buzz of alcohol, he didn't feel the least bit high. That said, the drug they'd been exposed to was completely unknown and it occurred to him that all three of them should have headed straight for the nearest hospital to be placed under observation.

“John, you are not hallucinating.” Sherlock had finally managed to tear the curtain free from his – well his... yeah. He remained crouched in the tub, however; his hooves... feet... slipping on the smooth porcelain.

It was then that John noticed the streak of blood on the rim of the tub.

“Damn, you're bleeding.” Pushing away all thoughts of deer people, John stepped forward to grasp Sherlock's upper arm – preparatory to helping him from the tub. This close he could feel the tremble running through Sherlock's body. He felt nearly hot to the touch and John cursed again at the realization Sherlock had been alone and sick while he'd been off making an evening of it. “Come on. Let's get you lying down so I can take a look at that injury.”

He refused to acknowledge the sensation of soft fur brushing against him as he helped Sherlock to stand. Between them, they managed to get Sherlock to the other room – Greg moving forward to help when the two of them emerged from the bathroom. Soon Sherlock was stretched out on the bed and John was examining the three inch gash across his right forearm.

“I cut it on the mirror when it broke.” His voice had resumed shaking – his whole body consumed with tremors.

“Yeah, well, its gonna need stitches. My kit is in the back of the car. Greg, do you mind?”

Grunting his reply, eyes still a bit dazed, Greg went to collect the bag while John gave the rest of Sherlock's body a scan for other injuries. Of course, this also forced him to confront the... less than human aspects.

“It's not real.” And maybe if he said that enough it would be true.

“I assure you it is. And had I the ability I would have changed back in order to avoid all of this. You weren't... humans are not meant to know of us...”

Cold bathed down from the crown of John's head to pour into his belly. “No. Nope. This is the side effect of a very powerful drug! Nothing more!”

“Do I look like a hallucination, John!” Sherlock roared – pushing himself to stand just as Greg returned from the car.

“Hell’s bloody bells...” Greg breathed.

Both men stood frozen as sobriety finally asserted that what they were seeing was actually, terrifyingly, real. And then Sherlock jerked, spun towards the nearest bin, and vomited.

An hour later, Sherlock sat, huddled and miserable, beneath the comforter while John and Greg finished up cleaning the bathroom of broken glass, scattered toiletries, and the torn remnants of Sherlock's clothes. Compartmentalizing had gotten them both this far but now, with no other activities to distract them, they were forced to confront the reality in the other room.

John could admit that he felt... well, terrified... Not of Sherlock, specifically but more... as though he had had the floor drop away – revealing a black and endless depth. It was apt that he felt he couldn't find his footing. Sherlock, for his part, had been very quiet during this time. Now, though, he sighed.

“Mycroft tried to warn me this would happen – eventually.”

John swallowed. Of course, Mycroft. He was one of these... these beings... as well. How many were there, then? Seeing the question on his face, Sherlock answered.

“There are more of us than you would think. As you can understand, however, it has been crucial to our safety that we remain hidden. If it weren't for what happened, yesterday, you would never have known about me.”

Trying, very hard, to get past the gut twisting wrongness, John moved to the chair directly opposite of the bed. Greg, for his part, still stood near the door. “You mean the mist?”

Sherlock shook his head; his antlers catching the soft light. “It's a reaction to coming face to face with a predator to our kind.”

John frowned. “Do you mean... the dog? I don't understand. I've seen you interacting with dogs, even patting then, dozens of times. Why would this...?”

“It wasn't a dog,” Sherlock swallowed, “It was a werewolf.”

Desperately putting the fur, antlers, and bloody hooves out of his mind, John scrambled for normalcy in the best way he knew how. By arguing.

“No... no I saw it. It was a dog. You said it was a dog.”

“Yes – I said it was a dog. But what did you see before I said that?”

He wasn't quite ready to accept that his flatmate was hooved much less that fairy tale monsters roamed the moors. But then the other part, of what Sherlock said, registered in his mind.

“Hold up – what do you mean by 'before you said that'?”

And here, Sherlock looked down, fingers pulling at the duvet. “I... our kind... we have the ability to alter perception. Not much – less so the younger we are – but enough to make you see a dog instead of a werewolf simply by speaking an absolute imbued with Power. It helps that you already expected to see a dog.” Here he looked up through his lashes. “Did you truly believe any drug would give everyone the exact same hallucination?”

John, though, still wasn't ready for all of... that. “That dog had an owner. Two owners – they admitted to creating this entire legend. Are you saying they had a werewolf and didn't know about it?”

“They knew exactly what they had. They thrive on trickery and no doubt were ecstatic over the chaos they caused.”

“So how did two, uh, humans end up in possession with that... that... that creature?”

Sherlock's eyes squinted shut. “They weren't human. They were satyrs. Similar to faun in appearance but far more powerful. They, too, can speak words of Power but unlike faun they can cloak their true nature from all creatures – including my kind. I didn't realize what they were until a short time ago.”

Hunched over his knees, John braced his hands on his thighs and breathed.

Finally giving in to the madness, Greg walked to the other chair where he dropped down with all the exhaustion of a man who hadn't slept for two days. Both hands scrubbed over his eyes. “So, what, you just speak one of these power words and we go back to seeing you as a human?”

Sherlock's lips pulled back, briefly, and John caught a glimpse of sharp canines. “No. At least not for a long duration given my form would merely be hidden from sight. The actual nature of my true body would still leave traces behind. As it is, faun are required to alter their shape in a manner which allows for full integration with humanity. It is, rather, a more physical process. And a painful one.”

At John's tipped head, Sherlock wrapped his arms about himself. “I can transform my shape. Well, once the adrenaline surge wanes enough to allow for it. It is not pleasant, however.”

“Does this happen a lot? Whenever you encounter a... well... a, ah, werewolf?”

Sherlock leaned back against the headboard – antlers tapping the wall. “Fortunately they are quite rare, nowadays. This is the first werewolf I've ever encountered. The last known sighting was more than sixty years ago.” Then, stretching, Sherlock swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “Now, if you don't mind, I need some privacy.”

It wasn't until he was back out in the hallway that John realized he'd just been kicked out of his own room.

Greg offered a pitying look. “I've a roll away in the closet if you want.”

John was about to accept when both of them startled at the sudden groan from the other side of the door. This was followed by what John could only imagine as the spongy snap of wet bone – immediately followed by a muffled scream.

“Jesus-” Without thought on the matter he immediately threw open the door and rushed back inside... to find Sherlock nude, soaked, and fully human, collapsed in a heap next to the bed.

Read the rest of the story on AO3

@totallysilvergirl @sgam76 @helloliriels @sevdrag

#sherlock #may prompts 2024 #secret #fanfic #please let me know if you don't want to be tagged!

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thefrogdalorian · 5 months

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Dincember Day 16: Sweet

Word Count: 1689 Rating: General Summary: After a tiring day of yard work, you decide to introduce Din and Grogu to one of your favourite festive drinks: hot chocolate. Although the sweetness proves a little too much for one of your Clan. Content Warnings: A certain child pukes but it's not described in graphic detail. Author's Note: I loved writing this! Hot chocolate exists in legends and I did my research, that is really how you prepare it in Star Wars. But now I really want to go and make hot chocolate!!

Link to read on AO3 | My Dincember Masterlist

Life Day was approaching and it was beginning to feel fully festive in your little cabin on Nevarro as the season was in full swing. You were loving every second, especially because you had the opportunity to introduce Din to so many festive traditions that you enjoyed yourself. There was always something magical in the air at this time of year, which was why you loved it so much. Grogu was delighted at being introduced to so many new experiences typical to this time of year. Plus, seeing Din finally be able to give into the festivities and believe in the magic too was incredibly touching to behold.

You and Din had been busy, spending the day tidying up the grounds outside the cabin, picking up various debris that had drifted across the lava flats into your property and sweeping up to make sure everything was pristine. While you were both occupied, Grogu was playing with his frogs in the little pond just outside the cabin. It was exhausting but worthwhile work and now that you had finished for the day, you took a second to step back and admire your handiwork as the sun began to set.

As you stood there, feeling the aches that always came after so many hours of physical labour, you dreamt up an idea for how to reward you and Din for the exhausting work you had undertaken. It would also be a way to enjoy the evening with Grogu, who you had hardly seen while you were occupied by the yard work.

“Since we worked so hard today, how about I introduce you both to my favourite festive drink?” You asked Din and Grogu as the three of you headed inside. “Have you ever had hot chocolate before?”

Two pairs of big brown eyes looked back at you quizzically.

“I’ll take that as a no, then.” You smirked as you pushed the door open and entered the cabin.

“It’s something I haven’t encountered,” Din admitted as he removed his helmet now that you were in the privacy of the cabin. “But I’d love to try it.”

“Okay, I’ll get started on making some,” You offered, kissing him on the cheek softly and taking Grogu in your arms, before you made your way into the kitchen with the little womp rat to begin preparing the sweet treat.

It was a pretty simple recipe, requiring some chocolate pieces and milk which, fortunately, you knew you had in the cupboards and a multiprocessor. You placed Grogu on the kitchen counter while you gathered the ingredients necessary. You broke the chocolate into pieces and then placed them in the multiprocessor, turning it to the dry and powder setting. While you waited for the chime that would inform you that the task was complete, you fished around in the cabinets to see whether there were any treats lurking there that would take your hot chocolate to the next level.

But your efforts to forage for any treats were unsuccessful, the cupboards not producing what you were searching for. You thought that perhaps Din could tell you if he had the necessary ingredients.

“Din? Do you have a sliver of tang bark?” You called down the short hallway in the direction of his quarters, where he was changing from his beskar’gam and into more comfortable garments.

“A what?” Din asked in confusion as he poked his head around the door to his quarters.

“A sliver of tang bark.” You repeated, smirking slightly at his confusion. It seemed that Din had not been exposed to the same variety of foods as you.

“I’ve never even heard of that…” Din admitted.

“It gives a cinnamon flavour. It’s fine though, don't worry. Do you have any orchid beans? You know, for vanilla flavour.” You questioned, but you knew it was probably in vain.

“I don’t,” Din frowned.

“What about mallow paste?” You asked.

“I think we might have some of that, actually. The kid likes it,” Din’s positive reply stunned you. “I’ll come find it when I’ve finished changing.”

It was only then that you noticed a sliver of Din’s tan skin as his bare shoulder was just visible beyond the door frame. If there wasn’t an expectant child awaiting your return to the kitchen, perhaps you would have followed him into his quarters to take advantage of his state of undress. However, the multiprocessor chose that moment to chime, an indication that the chocolate was ready. So you reluctantly retreated to the kitchen, knowing that there would be time for more later, after you had introduced Din and Grogu to the restorative wonders of hot chocolate.

You added water and a generous helping of sweetener to the powdered chocolate and then set the multiprocessor to the agitate and heat settings. You turned your attention to Grogu while you waited for Din to hopefully come and source some mallow paste for you. The little guy had wasted no time at all in using the Force to summon some sweet treats while you had been out of the room talking to Din. But the light blue crumbs around his mouth and his loud belch gave his treachery away.

“Grogu, don’t ruin your appetite. I’m already making something sweet for you,” You sighed, holding your hand out and waiting for him to give up the treats he had swiped.

Grogu looked at you pleadingly with his big brown eyes as he reached under his tunic and handed you the remaining light blue cookies. He didn’t break eye contact with you once and you momentarily felt bad, he was so cute after all. But then Din walked in and you knew that you had made the correct decision.

“Taking cookies again?” Din questioned exasperatedly as he walked into the kitchen to the sight of his son handing over the illicit sweets.

“I told him the hot chocolate will be sweet enough,” You nodded, sighing.

The multiprocessor chimed again and, mercifully, it was time for the final step: to add the milk and wait for it to heat. There was not long now separating you from the sweet liquid nectar. You were excited to introduce Din and Grogu to the festive drink that you loved so much. It would be even better now that Din had successfully dug out some mallow paste from one of the cupboards that you had missed in your search.

The multiprocessor chimed one final time, indicating that the mixture was now hot enough. You were ready to serve up the hot chocolate so you grabbed your favourite mugs and carefully poured the creamy hot chocolate into each one, adding a generous dollop of mallow paste on each one.

“I hope it was worth the wait!” You added with a flourish as you set the mugs down in front of Din and Grogu. You retrieved your own mug and set about watching carefully as they took their first sips, your heart was in your mouth as you nervously awaited their verdicts.

“Cyare… this is incredible,” Din said, his brown eyes widened in awe. “I’ve never tasted such a sweet drink.”

“I’m glad you like it. But Din,” You stopped, struggling to stifle the giggles that his appearance had provoked in you. Din’s upper lip was coated with the white frothy liquid of the mallow paste, he looked as though his neatly-trimmed moustache had been dip-dyed. “You got some mallow paste,” You reached your thumb up to swipe it off from around his lip, “There.”

"Doesn't it suit me?" Din sighed as he looked at you, feigning annoyance. Then the two of you burst into laughter. Perhaps the sweetness of the drink had gone to both of your heads. But then you heard a concerning sound from behind you and the two of you were soon shaken from the moment.

It seemed that the combination of the blue cookies and sweet hot chocolate had done a number on Grogu’s digestive system and proved too much for the little boy to stomach.

“Oh dear,” Din said as he stood up from his seat at the counter to fetch a cloth to wipe Grogu’s face and tunic with. He was back in no time at all, diligently tending to his son. “Perhaps that will teach you not to eat so many cookies, Grogu,” Din huffed.

It seemed that your initial plan to introduce Din and Grogu to hot chocolate had not gone entirely according to plan.

Later, after Grogu had been put to bed to sleep off his upset stomach, you and Din were sitting underneath the twinkling lights that you had strung up, at his insistence, inside the cabin. There were two more mugs of hot chocolate in your hands, you had prepared another batch after your initial mugs had gone cold after your attention had been diverted by Grogu’s little mishap.

“Thank you for introducing me to another tradition, cyare,” Din said gratefully. “You're incredibly sweet, just like hot chocolate.”

You just shook your head, floored once again by how soft and sentimental your favourite Mandalorian could be sometimes.

“I love you, Din,” You whispered.

“I love you too,” Din smiled as he leaned in to kiss you softly.

The gentle kiss was an assault on your senses. You could taste the sweetness and mallow paste on your tongue as Din's scratchy facial hair brushed against your face lightly. The kiss combined two of your favourite things in the galaxy: hot chocolate and the sensation of Din’s lips on yours.

After you broke away for air, you sighed and cuddled up to Din’s chest as he placed his arm around your shoulders. Your mugs of hot chocolate now lay on the table before you. Your belly was full from the sweet drink and warmth spread in your chest as you enjoyed this festive scene, cuddling up to Din below the twinkling lights.

All things considered, it had been an evening that contained much sweetness beyond just the liquid treat. But given Grogu’s unfortunate accident that Din had to mop up, some would say the evening had perhaps been a little too sweet.

#dincember 2023 #din djarin #din djarin fluff #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal characters #my fics

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