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pathologicalreid · 6 months

Text

buried alive | S.R.

in which the BAU races against the clock to rescue you from a killer team

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: angsty

content warnings: kidnapping, case stuff (murder yk), suffocation, being buried alive, hospitals, blood, nausea, CPR, funerals, use of pet names, guns, and drugs. i think that's all.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: okay, so i've been reading so much spencer fanfic and i started writing it and yesterday i realized i have 20 fics written and they're doing no one any good just sitting on my computer. i decided to finally try posting one. i wrote fanfic in high school (so like seven years ago) but this is my first time writing for a TV show. i've also never really posted on tumblr so please bear with me while i try to figure out formatting. tysm for checking out my post.

part two part three

You walked into the conference room and dropped the file on the table, allowing it to land on the wood with a satisfying splat. “The unsub’s burying them alive,” you said, letting the rest of the team know the conclusion you had come to with the medical examiner. “The M.E. found metal shavings and satin threads under the nails of our last victim. The most common materials to make up a casket.”

“There’s no way someone could bury someone alive in a casket alone, we’ve got to be dealing with a team, at least three people,” Emily concluded, standing in front of the evidence board.

It was the team’s third day on a case in Nebraska, four women had been discovered dead. Asphyxiation by hypoxia. Carbon dioxide poisoning.

“Approximately 420 people in the United States die from accidental carbon dioxide poisoning every year,” Spencer said, grabbing the file off of the table and flipping through it, taking a few seconds to read through it.

Rossi looked over Reid’s shoulder to look at the file, “but there’s nothing accidental about these deaths. Who would have access to these caskets?”

You shook your head, placing a hand on the back of Spencer’s chair, “A funeral director seems most likely.” You looked around at the Omaha field office, different agents running about in an attempt to solve these very murders. “They’d have the most access, write it off as displays. It could be hard to match the materials since they’re so common.”

Hotch leaned over the table and pressed the conference phone, “What can I do you for?” Garcia’s bright voice rang through the speaker.

“Garcia, I need you to look into funeral homes within the comfort zone. Look for a director who’s ordered more caskets than they’ve had funerals. Find anything, nothing is too small.” He told her.

“Absolutely, I’ll hit you back when I’ve got something,” she said, hanging up the phone.

There ended up being four funeral homes in the unsub’s comfort zone, so the team split up. You went with two locals to a family-owned business, Garcia had sent you all of the files you’d need on the location. “It looks like the Varn family has been in the funeral business since the seventeenth century,” you read aloud to the two agents you were in the car with.

“Does it mean they’re more or less likely to be the killers if they’ve been in business for so long?” One of the agents asked you, a younger man named Harrison.

You pursed your lips as you continued to look over the files, “I’m not seeing any glaringly obvious stressors before the murders started, but over the years I’ve learned that’s no reason to write someone off. Psychopaths can be tipped off by the slightest thing. Things none of us would bat an eye at.”

Harrison nodded in the passenger seat, looking over to his partner Jimmy, “You and your guy sure do make an interesting pair.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment, so thank you.” You and Spencer never explicitly stated to the field office that you were dating, but you walked into the precinct this morning holding hands. The agents must have drawn their own conclusions.

The younger officer cleared his throat, “It is a compliment, ma’am. The two of you are very impressive, your whole team is.”

You smiled, “Thank you, Harrison.”

The funeral home was run by a mother and her two sons, you held up your credentials for the mother when you knocked on the door. “Are you Sheila Varn?” You asked her, raising your eyebrows.

“Yes, what’s this about?” She inquired. She didn’t really look the part of a serial killer, a middle-aged woman who was running her family business.

Pocketing your credentials, you spoke, “We’re investigating the recent murders in the area and we were wondering if you had samples of the materials your caskets are made out of. Might we be able to come in?” You asked, adding a charming smile for effect.

Something flashed across her face before she returned your smile, opening the door and welcoming the three of you inside. “Hold on, let me get my boys up here. They’re so much more versed in the goings on of the town than I am,” she said, opening the door and calling for her sons. Felix and Joss came up the stairs from the basement, now they definitely had the physique to load dead women into caskets and bury them alive.

“Why don’t you two men come with me? I’ll get you those samples,” Sheila said, motioning for the agents you were with to follow her. To your horror, they followed her around the corner. “Felix, Joss, show this young lady what you know,” she instructed.

You took a deep breath before you looked up at the two men.

They were tall, maybe Spencer’s height, but they were built like wrestlers. There was no way you could physically subdue them on your own.

You passed out before you even had the chance to pull your gun.

Hotch was in full Unit Chief mode, Spencer watched from the corner of the room as he separated people into groups and gave them specific instructions. JJ and Morgan walked into the precinct, “What’s going on?” JJ asked looking around the room.

“The Varn Family is the team; two agents were found drugged on the side of the road and when we went to the funeral home Y/N was missing. Her badge, gun, and phone were all there, covered in blood,” Spencer said morosely, watching as Hotch finished giving orders and called the rest of the team over.

Your picture was up on the evidence board with the word “missing” written in bold letters beneath it. All of your belongings had been put into evidence for the time being. “Reid?” Hotch said his name, causing his head to snap up. “Are you okay to keep working?”

Spencer nodded affirmatively, “Yes.”

“Good, I need you to estimate how much time we have, I want a clock on these screens,” he ordered.

Morgan turned to Reid, “What do you think she has, kid?”

“The tidal volume for the average adult is point five at rest. That ends up being about six liters per minute. The average casket is approximately 886 liters in total volume and the average volume of the human body is 66 liters, leaving 820 liters to be filled with air for her to breathe. If she’s been gone for half an hour already, I’d estimate she has less than five hours of breathable air left.” Spencer explained, doing all of the math in his head while Emily put a timer on the screen next to the evidence board.

After a moment, Hotch continued, “Rossi, JJ, go back to the funeral home. Tear it apart, there has to be something there we haven’t found yet. The rest of us will split the list of cemeteries in the comfort zone and search them.”

“That’s a lot of ground to cover, we don’t have anything else to go on?” Morgan asked, looking at the list of burial sites he had been handed.

Hotch looked at Spencer, but Spencer stayed silent. “That’s all we have right now,” Hotch responded, “hopefully we’ll come across leads as we go.”

It smelled like a garden around you. The memory reminded you of spring with your mother, tending to the vegetable garden.

The only difference was that instead of the sun beaming down on you, it was pitch black. The space surrounding you was so dark that you weren’t totally sure your eyes were open.

Your head was throbbing just above your right temple, and you observed your surroundings. Slowly, you lifted your arm until it hit a ceiling.

Not a ceiling. A lid. You were in a casket. You pressed one hand to your chest and tried to slow your breathing. Chances were that the casket was already buried beneath the surface of the earth, trying to open it could be catastrophic. You patted the pockets of your jeans, only to find your phone missing, so the team wouldn’t be able to trace the location.

Even if you had it, there likely wouldn’t be service six feet under.

Your team would find you. They had to find you.

They found Spencer, they found Emily, and they would find you.

Spencer shifted in the passenger seat of the SUV, “You know, carbon dioxide poisoning is a rather peaceful way to die.”

“Reid,” Morgan said, turning the vehicle onto the main road, they had just finished scouring over another cemetery with still no sign of you.

He sighed and stared at his hands, “No, it’s good. We see so many people killed in so many different ways that it’s good that she won’t be in pain when she runs out of air.” He tried to convince himself.

Morgan cleared his throat, “We aren’t out of time yet, kid. We can still find her. Y/N’s smart, I’m sure she found a way to make more air or something.”

But they were running out of time, less than an hour remained on the timer set on all of their phones.

They pulled into the next cemetery, “There’s some fresh dirt over there, what are the names on the graves of people who were actually recently buried?”

Spencer starts to recite the names, and the two of them start to comb through the cemetery.

You had done enough research on this case to understand what was going on. The light-headed feeling had started not long ago, but now you felt like you were spinning, despite the knowledge that you were stuck in place.

It was a high. Not unlike the good kids high. Except instead of trying to chase a feeling, you were dying.

The timer went off when they were still scouring graves, shovels in hand. Derek stopped in his tracks, but Spencer kept going.

“Wait,” Spencer called out, reading the name on the card next to the fresh grave he was standing at, he moved to start digging. “Essie Dunbar was a thirty-year-old woman who was mistakenly buried alive in 1915,” he said, digging. “This has to be it.”

Derek called Hotch, putting the call on speakerphone so he could help Spencer dig. “Hotch, we got her, but she’s buried.”

“We’re on our way, Omaha police have one of the brothers in custody,” Hotch told Emily to have an ambulance dispatched.

What Reid knew that Derek didn’t was that it could take four hours to dig a grave by hand. The soil had been overturned, so maybe call it three. Your odds were still negligible. He didn’t stop, he didn’t stop when a caretaker came running at them, and he didn’t stop when Derek told him to get his digging equipment out here now.

Derek flashed his FBI badge to get what they needed. He had to physically pull Spencer back from the grave so the backhoe could dig, only going until there was less than a foot between them and the casket.

Spencer crudely attached a chain to the casket and the caretaker's vehicle. Carefully, the caretaker dragged the white container out of the earth and up a slant they had dug. It was locked shut, “Reid, move,” Derek ordered.

He leaned back and Derek fired at the lock, taking it off and opening the casket. Spencer gasped, there was blood on the side of your head, dried and raked through your hair. He was vaguely aware of Hotch and Emily arriving as they pulled you out of your satin prison. You had no pulse, but you were still warm. Immediately, Spencer started CPR.

“Reid let me do it,” Derek insisted.

What he was trying to say is that he shouldn’t have to be the one to try to save your life.

Morgan repeated himself and Spencer pulled away, allowing the other agent to immediately take over. There was a siren in the background, an ambulance. More people showed up, Spencer heard their voices, but he just kept watching you. CPR was effective if it was done shortly after your heart stopped, and even then, permanent brain damage was likely.

It had been eight minutes since they pulled you out of the ground. Clinically, you were dead for eight minutes before you gasped.

Spencer smoothed your hair back, away from your face, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You weren’t moving, and Spencer started running through symptoms of hypoxia. His biggest fear was brain damage, that they had done more harm to you in bringing you back than they would have had you died.

The EMTs came running over to where everyone had gathered, dispersing the crowd, and placing an oxygen mask over your face. As they were loading you on the stretcher, you started trying to talk, reaching your arm out to your side. “Wait, what’s she saying?” JJ asked.

“Sometimes it’s hard to talk after CPR,” the male EMT said as they moved you closer to the ambulance. He listened to what you were saying, “It’s not coherent.”

Spencer didn’t move, all of the adrenaline that had been coursing through his body all day was leaving.

Aphasia. They were saying the lack of oxygen to your brain was causing aphasia. “No,” Emily said, realization dawning on her features as she strained to listen to you. You were whispering, rasping the same word over and over again. “She’s saying ‘Spence.’”

He stood quickly and looked at you, sure enough, you were reaching out your hand and whispering, “Spence, Spence.” Your voice no more than a whisper.

Grabbing your hand, Spencer squeezed it, “I’m here,” he answered. “It’s okay, it’s over,” he told you, moving your hair out of your face. Spencer secured your oxygen mask over your face as you tried to take it off, “You have to keep this on, angel.”

To his relief, you squeezed his hand back.

You had been instructed to get some rest, but you couldn’t close your eyes. You asked Spencer to go back to the hotel and change his clothes because he smelled like dirt, and it made you nauseous. Your head had been bandaged, you’d been run through an MRI, and you did an EEG, so far, the only brain damage that had been incurred seemed temporary.

According to the doctors, the nausea and fatigue should wear off, but they hadn’t been able to fully assess if any permanent damage was done. At this point, the worst of your injuries had been caused by being given CPR, resulting in cracked ribs.

Despite your headache, you kept most of the lights on in your hospital room, not quite ready to be left in the darkness again. “Hey,” a voice called from your doorway, Spencer stood, waiting to be invited in. He was wearing different clothes, a button-up with a green cardigan thrown over it, and clean pants. “How are you feeling?”

A nasal cannula slightly restricted your movement, but you were sat up in the hospital bed, “Better than I was, but not perfect.”

He shook his head, walking in and taking a seat next to you, “No one expects you to be perfect right now.” Gently, he reached out and took your hand, skimming the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “They found the mother and the other son, and all three of them are going to go away for a long time,” he told you, speaking in the kind of hushed, reverent tones that are reserved for hospitals.

You sighed and tilted your head back, “Good,” you maundered. “That’s uh, good,” your voice was barely audible.

“So why do you look so worried?” He asked, leaning in closer to you.

In an attempt to dismiss his concern, you joked, “I think I owe Morgan some sort of life debt now.”

Spencer offered you a soft smile, “The two of you tend to trade those off, I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to him.” He inclined his head towards you as if to silently say, So what is it really?

You swallowed thickly, “I’m scared to close my eyes, Spence.”

His shoulders dropped, “oh, Angel,” he breathed. “Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked, looping a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “Wait, what are you doing?” He asked, watching you as you lifted yourself, so you were on one side of the bed.

Shyly, you patted the new empty half of the bed, inviting him to sit next to you.

He had no choice but to comply, he had the hardest time saying no to you. Leaning the bed back slightly, Spencer kicked off his shoes before he laid down next to you, wrapping an arm around you as you set your cheek on his shoulder.

Your body relaxed into his and you sighed, “Spence?” You murmured.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “Yes, angel?” He whispered back to you.

“Thanks for coming to save me,” you mumbled, slowly relaxing enough to fall asleep.

Spencer exhaled, “I’m always going to come to save you.”

part two

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #derek morgan #penelope garcia #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid x you #h writes (hypothetically)

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ao3commentoftheday · 6 months

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any advice about how to deal with posting a fic and getting radio silence? I know ppl aren’t owed engagement ofc, but I feel embarrassed at having spent so long on something no one cares about, and although I liked thinking about the characters and fandom before (and was considering writing more about them), now I can’t think about it without feeling that overpowering embarrassment 😭 part of me wants to delete the fic, but that would mean having to open ao3 and look at it again LMAO

sorry for the venting, I know this is probably a me problem, but has anyone else felt this, and if so, is there any way to make this pervasive shame go away??

*hugs* This is a very painful thing to experience and there isn't really any way to make it just go away, unfortunately. However, you can reflect on it a bit, when you're ready to.

Writing and posting are separate activities. If you've enjoyed writing the story but you haven't enjoyed posting it to the Archive, you can always continue writing just for yourself. This may or may not be something you'd enjoy - you know better than I do whether some of your enjoyment came from the anticipation of a reaction to your work.

Try to analyze where your embarrassment is coming from. Is it worrying that your story was poorly written? A lack of a reaction doesn't mean that the story is bad. Being unpopular doesn't mean it's bad, either. If your story is good to you, then it's a good story.

Is your embarrassment from feeling like you were "caught trying." Is it a cringe at the idea that you put effort into something that someone else doesn't (appear to) find valuable?

Is it actually embarrassment at all? Are you feeling a different kind of hurt instead? Did you hope that someone in particular would read your story and now you feel ignored? Did you hope to be embraced by your community and now you feel shunned?

These are difficult questions that I'm asking and you might not want to think about them right now. That's okay. You don't need to if you don't want to. You can definitely delete the fic and pretend it never happened. Or you can log out of that AO3 account and create a new one and never look back. Maybe you just need to take a week or a month off for a hiatus of sorts and when the ache isn't as bad, you'll be able to face it all again.

When I felt this way, it was because I felt like I'd put something into my community and that I'd been ignored. But since that time, I've found one person who gives me all of the community support I used to get from an entire fandom, and now when I post something on AO3 I don't actually need a response anymore. I get all of the fun and excitement and validation etc from my conversations and RP threads with my best friend.

Once you've got a little distance from the pain of this moment, try to figure out what it is that you were hoping to get and then figure out how you can get it. Maybe it's through posting fic to AO3, but maybe it's not.

Let's see what others can suggest. This is not something you're experiencing alone, anon. So very many of your fellow fan writers have experienced this too ❤️

#asks and answers

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rafeandonlyrafe · 6 months

Text

blowing smoke

words: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, fingering, unprotected p in v sex (i think ive written like one fic where theyve used protection i am ashamed), riding, smoking cigs, shotgunning smoke, semi public sex, mentions of drinking

fully inspired by this post bc hnnnnng.

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy

“come here, sweetheart.” rafe says, his gruff voice calling out to you over the noise of the party going on in the background. you place your hand in his outstretched one, completely engulfing it as he tugs you closer, onto his lap.

rafe bounces you once on his lap, making you smile and lean into him, not shying away from the physical contact.

“shouldn’t we be down with the rest of the party?” you ask, not that you actually want to leave the secluded balcony to rejoin the group, you much prefer having rafes undivided attention.

“do you want to go back to the party?” rafe asks, fingers pulling the thin strap of your dress off your shoulder.

you smile and tilt your chin down, rafe knows the answer. you always prefer being alone with him.

“why don’t you ride me and then we can go back to the party?” rafe questions, making you look around the space.

“i don’t know, someone could walk up at any time…”

rafe lets out a laugh, making you pout. he runs his thumb over your cheek, “baby, you think anyone would come up here without my permission?”

while the nerves still build in your stomach with the thought of someone easily being able to come up the stairs and seeing what’s happening on the second story balcony, you can’t resist rafe, which he certainly knows as you readjust on his lap so you’re straddling him.

you pull your dress up over your hips, and it’s tight enough that it stays in place. rafe smiles seeing what underwear you’re wearing, tiny panties with the letter r on the front that he got you for valentines day.

“my favorite.” rafe smiles, pulling on the strap and then letting it sna back into your hip.

you let out a gasp at the brief moment of pain, leaning forward and pressing your lips against your boyfriends, tasting the slight taste of alcohol on his breath. rafe easily dominates the kiss, his hand cupping your jaw as he controls you.

you moan against his mouth, knowing that no one will be able to hear you over the music pumping out of the speakers on the patio beneath you.

you move closer to rafe, pressing your chest together so you can grind your core against him, feeling him swell with your movements. you feel a rush of confidence with how quickly you can get him hard, taking rafes lower lip in between your teeth and giving it a slight tug.

rafe lets you have the moment of dominance, only to reach down and press his finger over your pussy, rubbing it through the thin underwear. “oh fuck.” you moan after releasing his lip, placing your hands on his thighs and leaning backwards, giving him better access to your clit, which he rubs mercilessly.

“all shy a few minutes ago, and now you’re leaking for my cock.” rafe laughs, not caring that you’ve soaked through your underwear and are leaving spots on his pants.

you pout, but it’s quickly wiped off your face when rafe tugs your underwear to the side, looking up at you with a smirk, “i would rip these off of you if they weren’t a gift.” you roll your eyes with a smile, knowing rafe has a proclivity for getting you out of your clothes by the quickest means possible, even if it means you regularly have to buy new underwear.

you almost lose your grip on rafes leg, thankful for the rough material of his jeans catching you, as he plunges a finger into your heat, looking at your pussy with a face of determination as he fingers you quickly, not deciding to go slow today.

you sit up straight, eyes going to the railing to make sure no one is able to see you, before leaning forward and cupping rafes face in your hands, letting your lips guide over each others in a half-kiss as you continue to moan.

rafe gets tired of just fucking you with his finger, his cock is almost uncomfortable from how hard he is, pressing against his zipper. he quickly inserts a second finger, turning his hand so his thumb can rub over your clit at the same time.

he doesn’t last more than a few thrust before the need to have you gets too great, pulling his fingers out suddenly, making you whine at the loss. you get to work quickly on his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them as rafe takes his fingers into his mouth, licking all of your wetness off, tasting sweet on his tongue.

“gonna ride daddy?” rafe asks, referring to himself as he lifts his hips, letting you tug his jeans and boxers down just enough to get his cock out.

“of course, daddy.” you bat your eyelashes at him, giving him a quick few strokes, even though he’s so hard he doesn’t need it, his tip a pretty pink color that makes you want to wrap your lips around it, but you know he’s not going to be able to get you off his dick if you suck him off, and you really do want to ride him.

you position yourself over top his cock, having to lift up onto your knees to line his cock up with your pussy. you close your eyes and take a deep breath, determined to take all of him quickly as you lower yourself onto his cock.

rafe watches you in fascination, always in awe of how you’re so willing and able to please him. you only pause for a second when you’re fully seated on his cock, before you begin to bounce, starting with small movements as you build up, placing your hands on his chest for stability.

“god, my perfect little bunny.” rafe smiles, tugging at the front of your dress until the top falls under your boobs, letting them spill free, moving along with you with every shift of your hips.

“feels so good.” you whine when rafe cups your tits, smirking as his big hands cover your entire chest. you are determined to show him how good you feel, moving faster even as you cunt cries out from the harshness of your movements.

“so good for daddy.” rafe compliments you, surprised how quickly you’ve completely forgotten that there’s just shy of 100 people only a floor below you.

“mhm, good just for you.” you say, moving your hands to his shoulders as you shift backwards slightly.

you roll your hips along to the song playing, watching as rafe reaches over to the table next to him, grabbing a pack of cigarettes and his customized lighter, filled with pictures of you on it. it’s the only one that he uses ever since you got it for him, even refusing to light up other peoples cigs or joints when they ask him to.

rafe pulls a cigarette out of the pack and places it between his lips as you continue your movements. he brings his lighter up to his mouth, cupping his other hand to protect the flame from the light wind as he lights his cig.

you slow your moves in time with his deep inhale, rafes eyes sliding shut as he breathes in the smoke, only for you to speed up the second he quirks his lips to the side and blows it out.

“god, i’m in fucking heaven.” rafe pulls the cigarette out of his mouth with one hand, bringing his free hand to grip your hip and help you slightly with your movements.

you giggle, leaning forward and accepting the end of the cigarette rafe puts in your mouth, also taking a breath, admittedly not as deep as your breathing fast from riding him. you tip your head back and blow the smoke out into the air before refocusing.

“damn, riding me so good baby.” rafe gives your ass a quick slap before gripping your plump bum, still helping you move all while feeling you up.

he sticks the cigarette between his lips, taking another draw from it before he pulls it out, not caring to turn away from the sight in front of him as he blows the smoke over your body, making you let out a moan.

“fuck, dirty girl.” rafe delivers another spanking.

you cry out, knowing he’s going to leave a red mark on your ass. you bring one hand away from the iron grip you have on rafes shoulders to rub at your clit.

“let me do that for you.” rafe slaps your hand away, being careful not to hit you with the lit end of the cigarette, wanting to get his fingers back on your slickness.

you smile, knowing rafe likes it when he’s the one who makes you cum. he sticks the cigarette back between in the corner of his mouth, showing off how familiar he is with the action as he takes a puff and blows it out without using his hands.

you know you’re going to smell like smoke later as he brings his fingers to your clit, circling on the outside before flicking it as you clench your cunt around him every time you pull up before letting loose and slamming back down.

rafe can’t speak to warn you that he’s close for risk of his cigarette falling out of his mouth, but you can tell just from the way his cock swells inside of you that he’s not going to last much longer.

“faster, rafe.” you place a hand over the back of his as his fingers speed up, toying with your bud the perfect amount as you let out a loud moan, not caring even if someone did walk up the stairs.

your orgasm overtakes your body, unable to keep moving as you slump forward, rafes fingers slowing as you let your head fall onto his shoulder, trying to breathe as he suddenly pulls his hand away from your clit, gripping onto your hips with both hands and bouncing you once, twice, and then a third time on his cock before he’s cumming, flooding your insides.

“fuck.” rafe groans, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth, keeping one hand on your ass to make sure you don’t get up yet, wanting to enjoy the feeling of your fluttering walls around him for longer.

you turn your head to the side, giving his neck a kiss and nuzzling your nose against his skin as you both breathe heavily, coming down for your collective high.

you sit up after a moment, realizing that you’re going to start leaking out as rafe softens.

“rafey-”

“yeah, alright.” he sighs, letting you pull off of him, his cock flopping down against his skin. you can’t bring yourself to stand up and actually take care of the cum, opting to pull your panties back in place and hope that they catch everything.

you pull the top of your dress back up over your dress, adjusting your boobs and regretting your decision to go braless as your nipples poke through the material.

you watch as rafe tucks himself back into his pants, lifting off his lap slightly so he can redo his jeans.

“gimme.” you try to take the cigarette out of rafes hand, but he stops you, taking a deep drag for himself before dropping the almost finished cig onto the ashtray, taking your face in his hands and bringing you close.

your mouth slots open, and he blows the smoke into your mouth as you inhale it. you hold it for a moment before exhaling, letting the smoke rise around you.

rafe smiles at your actions, pressing your lips together in a long kiss, knowing you’re not going back down to the party any time soon.

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janaispunk · 1 month

Text

sun is going down

chapter 1 • series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.

word count: ~2.2k

tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (sorry not sorry), able-bodied reader, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, vague description of an injury, blood, guns, i think that’s it?

a/n: i’m ridiculously nervous about sharing this story, it has been on my mind for over a year and i’ve been too intimidated to start working on it for the longest time. i really hope that someone likes it haha

follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

The alarm goes off in the middle of the night. You shoot up, your body on high alert, your heart beating rapidly, before your mind is even fully awake.

Probably just a false one, you try telling yourself as you make your way to the office. You’ve never had a false alarm, but– one can hope, right?

The place is plunged into darkness, no windows for any moonlight to seep through. You turn on the camera feed, squinting at the grainy screen. There’s movement in the living room, two people, from what you can make out. Not infected, judging from the way they’re moving, but one of them seems to be injured. Please don’t be raiders. There isn’t much to loot in the house, but the anxiety is already settling in your chest, threatening to crawl up your throat.

You turn on the sound and a panicked girl’s voice rings through the room as if you were standing right next to her.

“Fuck, Joel, wake up. Joel, please–”

It’s eerily similar to words that you’ve said once, the memory still fresh, even now. You wonder if your voice was as thick with tears then as that girl’s is right now.

Not again. Not in this house, not while you’re watching, unable to do anything. Not again.

You still hear it, the echo in your mind clear as ever. Keep them safe. Promise me. The promise you failed to keep.

Unblinking, you stare at the screen, your mind running a mile a minute. This could be a trap. They could have been watching, could have somehow figured you out. Or, the tiny voice in the back of your head insists, or they really need help.

The girl is pleading for the man to hold on, to not fall asleep. The desperation in her tone is tearing at you, urging you into action. Fuck it, you have to do something.

You grab your gun from the wall and slowly make your way up the stairs, ignoring the anxious trembling in your hands. Maybe this is how you die.

Leaning your back against the wall, you take a deep breath, a fruitless attempt to calm yourself, and switch on the lamp outside. You can’t hear them anymore, but knowing that the living room is now bathed in light, you’re certain that they’re on high alert now. Shit shit shit. You steel yourself, undo the complicated lock and push the heavy door open.

Please don’t let it be a trap.

They’re both staring at you, a young girl standing in front of a man, lying on the ground, taking panting breaths. She’s pointing a gun straight at you, as if she’s trying to shield his larger body with hers. The weapon looks much too big in her hands.

The memory of a similar image tugs at the back of your mind, but you shove it away. Stay in the present, stay right here.

You clear your throat, raising your hands slightly. You don’t remember the last time you spoke to another living person. Your voice cracks.

“I– I don’t mean you any harm. I live here, I saw you on– on the cameras.”

The girl furrows her brow, her eyes flitting across the room.

“They’re hidden, you won’t– Listen, I just want to help, I promise.”

The sound of your voice wavers, almost unfamiliar to your own ears. The girl lowers her gun a fraction, but the distrust is written all over her face. You can’t blame her. You clear your throat again, willing your hands to stop shaking.

“Your dad, is he– has he been bitten?” Please say no, please say no, please say no.

She shakes her head quickly. An expression that you can’t place flies over her features. Thank god.

“He’s not my– no. He got– he got stabbed.”

You can tell that she tries to sound strong, brave, but you recognize the panic in her eyes. You see it often enough when you look into the mirror.

You take another steadying breath. You can do this.

“Okay. I can help with that, if– if you want. I have medicine, bandages…”

Hope flashes over her face, mixed with the obvious conflict of not trusting you.

“You can come downstairs, it’s safer there. I– I should turn the lights back off.”

You’re painfully aware of how bright the house must shine through the darkness, from how far away it’s probably visible right now. Your nerves are fluttering anxiously.

“I don’t mean to hurt you, I swear. Just– let me help you.”

She swallows, hard, and fixes you with a stare.

“It’s just you down there?”

You nod in silent confirmation, not trusting your voice on this. It’s the first time you’ve ever had to admit it to anyone but yourself.

The girl sighs, her head turning between you and the man behind her a few times, surely seeking guidance from him, but his eyes are halfway shut, his lips trembling. Your gaze falls on the dark red stain on his shirt.

Don’t look, don’t think- Just focus on this, right now, right here.

You tell her your name, promise again that it’s safe. Finally, she nods timidly.

“Okay.”

“Okay.” You nod back at her, give her a small smile that she doesn’t return. “I’ll come closer now, we’ll carry him, alright?”

The girl looks at the man again. Her body tenses when you near them, but together you manage to get him back on his feet and half walk, half carry him. You push the door open wider and heave him down the stairs.

In the back of your mind, you take note of the sound of multiple feet walking down the steps, and how long it’s been since… No. Stay in the present.

You prop him up on the couch, where the girl keeps hovering by his side while you rush up again to close and lock the door and turn off the lights. Next, you throw open the bathroom cabinet, gathering all the material that you might need.

You return and crouch down beside him, lying your things out on the table, and take a closer look, your fingers halting over him. He’s watching you through lidded eyes, a sheen of sweat on his pale face.

“What’s his name?” you ask, looking up at the girl.

“Joel,” she answers reluctantly. “I’m Ellie.”

“Hi, Ellie.” You hope your smile looks sincere, not betraying how nervous you are right now. How shaky the sight of his blood-soaked shirt makes you feel.

“Okay, Joel?” you address him directly. He only manages a tired hum in return. “I’m gonna clean this and try stitching you up. It’s gonna hurt, I have painkillers, if you–”

But he shakes his head, humming again.

“Alright,” you sigh, and get to work.

You explain what you’re doing with every step, to calm both their and your own nerves. You know how to do this, you’ve trained for this. The wound doesn’t look too deep and you pray that there’s no organ damage involved, because you don’t have the means to treat that properly, but it doesn’t look like it. There seems to be an infection spreading though, so you gather some antibiotics as well, hoping that they’ll still work the way they’re supposed to. Joel inhales sharply a few times, but seems to be out of it for most of the time, which you’re grateful for.

“How did this happen?” you ask, looking up at Ellie who’s still standing beside you, watching intently over what you’re doing.

“Raiders,” she mutters. “It was a broken baseball bat, I think.”

“Jesus,” you sigh. You wonder how they got out, your thoughts circling back to the gun in her hands, and you suppress a shudder. “Are you injured too?” you ask, deciding not to press her about the attack.

“No,” comes her quiet answer. You don’t catch the way she averts her eyes.

“Alright,” mumble eventually and straighten up. You’ve cleaned and bandaged the wound to the best of your ability and now you just have to hope that it will be enough.

“Do you want something to eat?” you ask the girl, who has taken to sit beside the couch on the ground, now that you’ve moved away from it. Her face lights up at the question and she nods eagerly.

You get two bowls of the soup that you’ve had for dinner for the both of you and she has already had a few spoonfuls before she eyes you warily.

“It’s not poisoned or something, is it?”

You huff a laugh and keep eating yours, holding her gaze with raised eyebrows. “Does it look like it?”

“Um, no…” she trails off, swallowing another spoonful and sighing at the taste. You wonder how long it’s been since they ate something. “You could have poisoned only mine though.”

“Well I didn’t,” you grin. It feels foreign, talking to another person, another child, but a warmth is slowly spreading through you that has nothing to do with the soup.

She wakes Joel and gets him to swallow a little soup as well as some water before he collapses back on the couch, his eyes closed and his breath evening out.

“Why do you… have all this?” she asks eventually, setting her bowl down on the table and looking around the room, the wood-covered walls and the multiple doors.

“My dad built it,” you reply, forcing your voice to stay neutral. “B–before.”

She hums in acknowledgement, her eyes still full of wonder.

“You’re welcome to stay,” you hear yourself say, “until he gets better, I mean.”

You don’t know if you’re being reckless, if this will be the thing that finally gets you killed, but it seems too elaborate to be a trap. And maybe, just maybe you like the idea of not being alone down here, even just for a short while, a little too much. She thanks you, her expression just as weary as you feel.

You offer that she can wash up if she wants, use the shower, that you could give her some clothes of yours. You’re still not sure if you’re doing the right thing, or if you’re just being incredibly stupid, but the sight of her worn down shirt and the way her hair is matted down with dirt makes your heart swell with the wish to care for her.

Her eyes flicker nervously between Joel and the bathroom door a few times, but eventually she agrees. While the shower runs, you settle down on the armchair across from the couch, sinking into the cushions, your knees pulled up to your chin, your eyes resting on the sleeping man. He’s huge, taking up the whole length of it, his feet dangling over the armrest, overwhelming even in his unconscious state.

You really hope that they’re good people. He could overpower you easily, there’s no doubt of that. You might not be a terrible fighter, but you don’t think that you’d be a match for him.

Your gaze lingers on his face, the strong shape of his nose, the pout of his lower lip, his brow furrowed even in his sleep. His fingers are twitching, one wrist adorned with a broken watch.

Ellie exits the bathroom again, clad in your old clothes, her damp hair dripping into the neckline of the t-shirt, like a younger version of you. It makes your heart ache.

Now that the adrenaline is rushing from your body, you realize how weird all this really is. You haven’t spoken to anybody in years and now there’s two people here, in your space. Maybe you’ve finally lost it for good.

You show her to the biggest of the four bedrooms, the only one that no one has ever slept in. It’s easier, opening this door, than the two other ones that you keep shut. You debate moving Joel from the couch to the bed, Ellie mumbling about his back, but ultimately you decide against it.

“Okay,” you hesitate, leaning against the doorframe. “I’m in the room right next to you, if you need anything… Just– please don’t murder me in my sleep, okay?”

She mirrors your wry smile. “I won’t if you won’t.”

You nod and leave the room, praying that you’re making the right call here. You’re doing something good, right? And no one would plan an ambush like this. Would they?

You heave a sigh and retreat to your own bedroom, your gun clutched tightly in your grasp. You doubt that it would save you, not against that man who’s currently softly snoring on your couch. Still, it makes you feel a little better. You turn the lock on your door too, just in case.

When you sink back under the covers, eyes still wide open and staring into the darkness, a small smile creeps onto your lips despite your worries.

It’s not the way it was, it will never be that way again. But not being the only soul down here fills you with the ghost of a warmth that you had thought you’d never feel again.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

#janas fics #fic: safe and sound #joel miller #ellie williams #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrostories

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princessofmarvel · 7 months

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Runaway

summary | thomas has made a deal with a man to help his business. thomas’s only condition? to marry the man's daughter. except she doesn’t want to marry him.

pairing | thomas shelby x fem!reader

word count | 1.98k

genre | fluff with some angst?

requested? | yes! i had so much fun writing this! especially since i have never written anything like this before! thank you so much for requesting! please let me know if you like it!

warnings! | arranged marriage? darkish thomas? (not really, i’m just not great at writing dark characters sometimes, lol) not proof read yet!

author’s note! | hey everyone! this main character was written with poc in mind, i have tried my best, but since i am not a person of color please let me know if there is anything i can change to make it better! i hope you enjoy your request! please know that if you have requested something, i promise that i will get to it soon! And as always, I do I have really bad OCD that causes me to write in some random capitalization, and punctuation, But I think that we don't have to worry about that in this fic lol. And let me know if there are any mistakes, but please be kind!

Thomas knew what was happening today, hell his whole family knew. His future bride was coming to birmingham. He struck up a good deal with her father about helping her fathers business about a week ago, then he saw a photo of the man's daughter. The only condition Thomas made? To marry his daughter. Once they agreed, the man said he needed a week to get his family there. By the time they got there, Thomas had already got everything set up to make damn sure the man would be successful in birmingham. Which included a few fights, but Thomas would do it all over again if it meant he could have her.

They weren’t to meet until the wedding, something her father insisted on. So Thomas stood in a room of the church getting ready, when his brother John busted in.

“They can’t find her Tommy” was all John said as he huffed as if he was out of breath.

Thomas’s mind began to race. What did he mean they couldn’t find her? Has something happened? Had one of his enemies found out about today and took her?

“She was getting ready, and asked for a moment to herself, when her mother came back in to check on her, she was gone.” John added as he leaned on the closest chair.

Thomas stood and took in his brother's words for a moment before he left the room. His future wife was out in Birmingham in her pretty white dress, with no protection and no one was doing anything about it. Her family may not know this city, but Thomas did. He knew what could happen to her if she stayed out there too long. This won’t be an issue when they’re married, and she has his last name. She could kill someone and get away with it then, but right now no one in Birmingham knows who she is. All they know is that she is a pretty girl in a white wedding dress, and the thought of what could happen to her made him sick.

Thomas looked everywhere he could think his fiance would be. He couldn’t find her anywhere, the only place he hadn’t checked was the Garrison.

He walked in to see his bride to be, standing behind the bar making herself what looked like her fourth drink. He walked in slowly, making sure not to scare her.

“(Y/n)?” He asked as he walked up to the bar. She looked up at him as she continued to make her drink. “I’m Thomas Shelby, your future-”

“I know who you are.” She said, cutting him off.

“Well, we're supposed to be getting married right now.” He said matter of factly. “So what are you doing here?”

“I’m not marrying you, thought you would have figured that out by now.” She said as she took a sip of her drink.

Thomas looked at her, making sure to not show how shocked he was that she was speaking to him that way.

“And, why not?” He asked her, now intrigued.

“I don’t want to, I don't know you.” She said as she finished her drink.

Thomas moved to be behind the bar where she was. He took her drink from her hand and placed it on the bar.

“(Y/n)” He said as he towered over her. “Your father has already given me your hand.”

“I know, I don’t care.” She said as she grabbed her drink back from Thomas.

Thomas just took a moment and stared at the girl as she took her drink back. It was the first time he truly got to look at her. He got to take in the color of her eyes, and the curl of her hair, she truly was beautiful.

“Why exactly are you so against marrying me?” He asked as he stared at her.

“I want to be my own person, not defined by my father or my husband.” She said not missing a beat.

“I think I can help with that.” Thomas said, starting to get closer to the girl. “I have a certain reputation, if you’re married to me, you’ll be untouchable.”

“That's still me being defined by my husband.” She said, cutting him off with a small eye roll.

Thomas took the drink from her and set it back down, but this time, she didn’t turn away from him, she just stared up at him, waiting for him to continue.

“As I was saying, you would be untouchable, and if you wanted a role in peaky blinder business, you wouldn’t just be “Thomas Shelby's wife”. You would be “(Y/n) Shelby, most feared woman in Birmingham”. You have an opportunity here, the choice is yours.” Thomas said, staring her in the eyes. Normally he would never offer this to someone he just met. But there was something about (Y/n), just the look in her eyes, the way she wasn’t scared of him, how she held herself, how she looked at him with the same amount of intensity he looked a her with, how she didn’t care she was defying the most feared man in birmingham. "Don't let your pride get in the way of a smart decision."

Thomas watches the girl stare at the wall for a moment, him taking in her side profile. Until she finally looked up at him.

"I won't be reduced to just your little wife?" She asked with a small glimmer of hope in her eyes.

"I'll let you take care of anyone who says you are" He said with a serious look on his face.

The girl gave him a small smile, it was obvious that no one had ever believed in her the way Thomas was right now, that they all thought of her as some weak little girl and nothing more.

"Fine, I'll marry you" She said as she looked up at him with a small smile.

Thomas wrapped her arm in his and led her out of the Garrison. He held the bottom of her white dress up away from the dirt as he walked them back to the church.

“You know, you’re not supposed to see the bride before the wedding.” She said to him with a small laugh. “It’s bad luck.”

“I won’t let anything ruin this marriage, trust me.” He said as he opened the church door for her and let her walk in first. Thomas watched as her family whisked her away, knowing that this girl was truly something he had never expected her to be, and he loved it.

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kithtaehyung · 9 months

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seven days (m) (teaser) | jjk

POSTED HERE JULY 22ND, 2023!! upcoming series: seven days (m) pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x reader(f) genre/rating: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; roommates to lovers au summary: you dump yet another guy that wasn’t up to your “ten day standards,” which leaves your cocky ass, very off-limits roommate to tease your single status yet again. but the teasing is always expected. what’s not expected, is the bet that you make without thinking. the bet that even though you give ten days, he wouldn’t even last seven. warnings: cursing, alcohol/vape mentions, parties, he wears glasses sometimes😔👍, chains bc it’s tradition atp lmaooo, cocky!jk, feelings🤕, big big big jk, flirty!jk, baddie!reader😌, multiple explicit scenes🫠, jk constantly in grey sweatpants and nothing else :))), full lists to be revealed each chapter! notes: …so this song called seven dropped and— notes 2: but really there was a fic that had been in the wips for a minute, and i just so happened to have a burst of energy to expand on it so here we are! making it a series to allow myself time to dedicate meaningful energy to each scene and not rush them💕 est. chapters: prologue | mon | tue | wed | thurs | fri | sat | sun | seven days est. running dates: july-september 2023 taglist: sign up here (i check every entry so read the rules!) teaser: below the cut if you want a taste 🩵

—

“Sure did,” Jungkook puffs before stepping away, taking all the tight space with him and letting you breathe again. “But all I’m saying is, you gotta lower your standards or—”

“No.”

“Or,” he continues, giving you a look, “Not complain if they’re too high.”

“Well, thank you.” With your nose grazing the sky, you point out, “I’d like to think they’re just right.”

“What even are they anyway? All you’ve said is something about ten days.”

“That’s basically it,” you murmur, resting your arms on the island as to not have your chest in full view. “If I still like someone after ten days, I know I’d be fine dating them for real.”

There’s silence when you finish. When you finally look, the gawk you’re getting in return almost makes you laugh. “What?”

“You mean those days are only a trial run?”

You do break into laughter this time, burying your face in slight shyness. “And what about it!”

“Are you serious—?” Jungkook rounds the island so that he can speak directly at your hidden features. “Has anyone even gotten past all ten with you?”

You pause, breath fanning the granite top beneath you and wisping around your face. When you lift your gaze above your arms, you keep it trained on the countertop instead of his curiosity,

“No.”

He doesn’t say a word.

“Not since my standards changed.”

And you think that’s the end of this conversation. Because what else is there to say? You know your expectations are impossible but you think this is a hell of a lot better than—

“I could do it.”

“What.” A glare is shot. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“You? No.” You shake your head. “You wouldn’t even last seven.”

“Try me,” he challenges, and you still can’t take him seriously despite the fire in his eyes. “I’ve lasted a lot more than that as your roommate, right?”

“But that’s—this is—this is different! Be for real, Kook.” You vacate the island and head to your room, having enough of his teasing for one morning.

But you get stopped at the doorway, a bare chest and chains blocking your vision and sending your mind into a frenzy. When you flick your gaze to his face, he simply says, with the straightest expression,

“I am.”

tbc. :))

🦋 soooo how do we feel !! | wanna be tagged? 🩵

a/n: yeah idk what happened to me. one moment i was saying i wasn't gonna get bitten by the seven bug, and the next.. well. this happened lol. anyway! taglist is on a form so that i can easily keep track of who to tag. pls make sure to either tell me ur age in the survey or to have it on your blog bc i check all entries when tagging. prologue is already written and will be up soon! ++ ⇥ masterlist

#bts fic #bts imagines #bts reactions #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts smut #*ryenfictalk #ryenwrites #*latest #teasers #bts fanfic #jjk fic #7days

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sickuma · 10 months

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SILLAGE — a Simon Riley fic. 2/2

❱ again this was an au first written on tiktok! this will be the last part of it, please keep in mind that it is all fiction and that if you're going through the same thing and are having the same thoughts, please seek someone you trust. Please fight for yourselves, you're worth it ꜝ？ Warning. . this is a heavy angst fic, mentions of suicide and acts of committing, if that is something that triggers bad emotions, please exit the fic.

paring is Ghost x Reader this is unedited! mistakes such as spelling and grammatical errors are to be expected !

Part 1 (^_^;)

SILLAGE — (n.) The scent that lingers in air, the trail left in water, the impression made in space after something or someone has been and gone; the trace of someone's perfume.

—hey [name]? I know I'm the last person you want to hear from right now, but I just really—

There was a short pause, as the voicemail erupts a slight static sound.

—I love you. That should have been enough reason. No, you were enough. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I was cowardly, I figured that you'll be happier and safer, being with someone who isn't me. Someone who isn't a soldier.

It was the same night he left your apartment. He swore to himself he would not come crawling back. To protect both of you, at the time, it had been the best solution for him. Until the midnight strikes, he remembered just how serious you looked, just how accepting you looked.

Too accepting.

—because who knows when one of these missions would finally take me out. I can't let you suffer through that, I can't be the one to give you that kind of grief. So I thought leaving you was the best option.

There was a dire pause as he thought of the best words possible to express himself. He’s never been one to do such, but for you, he’s willing to be better.

—it wasn't.

He spoke desperately, almost shaking from just how much adrenaline rushed through him. He had just argued with the team, and after a long hour of explaining to them what he needed to do, he was finally permitted to bail out on this mission, it’s not like he wouldn't leave without permission, that's how urgent this is for him, he needed to get to you as soon as possible,

Even he doesn't know why he’s in a rush,

Maybe it's because of your silence, the unanswered calls, and unread messages that brought him on edge.

—I love you, far too much, my love, to even think straight without you. I love you so much it's hard to breathe. I so desperately love you to the point it hurts.

The desperation and sincerity. It was all there. He knew if he couldn't let it out now, he won't let it out ever. This was his only chance of being happy.

You were his only chance for happiness. He almost couldn't believe he thought letting you go because of his fear was the best decision.

He stupidly let you go, succumbing to the fear of dying while you wait for him. He knows better, he will do better,

For you. Because you're worth changing for, you're worth the risk.

—please don't hate me. I know I was an ass for leaving in the first place, baby, I am sorry. You loved me so much that it felt so good, I didn't know I'm capable of feeling that way, so I was scared that worse would come after. I'm not scared anymore. You looked at me like there's something in me worth looking at,

He felt like he was saying so much yet so little at the same time,

He had so much to tell you but very few words to express it. He needs to be with you. He needs to see you and physically explain to you just how much you mean to him.

—I won't waste it, love, not again. Please open the door for me when I get back.

He frowned, realizing once again just how idiotic he was. He knew he should not have done what he did, but it was over with. The only thing left to do is to make things right somehow.

—I've never been taught how to love, I have.. I don't— I'm not the best at it. I'm sorry baby, if I'm not loving you the right way, and for leaving just like that, but I promise I'll be better. you're worth the better of me, you're worth learning love for.

He needed you, and you needed him. That should have been enough reason to risk it.

—when I come back, please let me hold you. Please forgive me for making you feel like an option between my job. It's you. It's always been you. I love you, baby, wait for me. I'll make this right.

As the line cuts, the static sound fills the eerie room of yours. The very same room he had walked out from, the same room where you sat breathing hours ago. There were no other living sounds except for the occasional ticking of the clock.

There were no signs nor sounds of life perceived in the room. The silence was thick. With your lifeless body beside the bed in a fetal position, a bottle of used pills tightly wrapped around your hands. It was light, about three to four pills left inside a newly bought bottle.

It was dead silent as if the universe sympathized with you.

Allowing silence in regards to respect for what has passed, for what has ended.

﹑

“My family’s never been the typical joyous family, I guess that affected me, as a person in general.”

You explain, running your hand through his hair while his head laid on your lap. It’s one of those days where he’d be much affectionate compared to the majority of the time. He requested to hear about your childhood while he rests on you,

For a moment you felt your heart and breath hitch.

“I guess growing up in that kind of household really—really influenced my well-being. It's given me problems and worries I shouldn't have.” You were hesitant to continue, “Fear, I started having fears for a lot of things.”It's as if you caught a glimpse of his mind, taking in the details you've just given him.“Fears like?”

The moment the question reached your ears, he could see your body tense. He understood, and he doesn't plan on pushing it.“You don't have to answer that, my love.” he smiles, “No matter what it is you're scared of, let’s face it together, yeah? You have me. That's enough, I hope.”

Little did he know that fear was yet to come. The fear of leaving soon, the fear of being unable to keep going. How could you ever explain to him that you don't plan to stay long?

﹑

With a ragged breath from exhaustion, he dropped his things once again, the same way he did before he left. Facing your door yet again, panting as a feeling of discomfort plagued him, why exactly? He’s finally here. Why is he so distraught, he wondered.

“[name]?” he knocks,

Swallowing the lump in his throat, his voice strained, and his state dishevelled. “[name] please—it’s me, please answer.”

The lack of response made him think about just how angry he made you,

“I'm sorry,” he whispers,

“I know I was stupid and irrational. I won't do it again, petal, please open the door.”

To say he’s nervous would be an understatement. What would he do if you never find it in you to let him back into the comfort of your arms? Will he return to the familiar cold he had forgotten when he met you?

“[name] I love you.”

He desperately spoke, yearning for an answer; the smallest sign of acceptance.

It was odd. How quiet it was. Are you that mad? He wonders, but then again, he knew you’re not one to ignore, not even when you’re the angriest you've been. You would never shut him out, not ever. “[name], please, answer, or I'll have to go inside.”

“Baby are you okay?” no response.

Each passing second was like a countdown. He was uneasy and distraught. Afraid even.

The silence felt deafening. He was afraid of what? He had no clue what he was so afraid of, surely you're okay...

Right?

“[name], I'm coming in,” he says sternly, fishing the spare key he oh so gratefully forgot to give back. His heart thumps louder with each action.

The moment he entered, the creak of the door interrupted the silence. He felt like he was intruding on an abandoned space. It felt wrong. He knew something was wrong.

“[name]? I'm back, like—like I always am.” his voice broke, stepping inside, head looking around, hoping to find you and engulf you in his longing arms. “As I told you, I’ll always find my way back… right?”

He kept speaking while he walked, checking and opening every door. Starting from the small kitchen to the bathroom, checking everywhere until there was one room left. He dreaded it, for no reason he was scared and yet he rushed,

He spoke, no—he goes on a tangent,

“I'll take the month off. We’ll do anything you want, anything to make up for this. I promise we can even get a pet, I always say no, right? This time, I'll agree, anything for you, my love just—”

The silence rung,

Apart from the sound of the door opening by his force, there were no sounds made, not from him, not from anything. He simply stood, dumbfounded at what the room unveiled; at that moment, nothing mattered, not even the breath he had held unknowingly.

A ragged chuckle escaped his lips, though it was hollow. As if he was desperate to know that maybe this is all some sick prank. Maybe this was one of your silly games he always put up with, “Baby? What’s this? Why are you on the floor?”

“Jokes over [name] get up—”

When it all came to view, he was silenced. The second he stepped closer, he saw how your body lay lifeless, how you held that bottle, and how his eyes drifted onto the lone tear, which evidently dried along the hours.

How long have you been here?

In this state? How long has it been since you left him?

He couldn't feel. He couldn't grasp his head around the sight before him. He’s well familiar with death. He’s seen it before, and he’s lost comrades before, but nothing comes close to what lay in front of him.

How does one react when their lifeline lies lifeless before their very eyes?

He couldn't approach nor speak. He simply stood with weak knees, tempting to give out. It didn't take him long to crouch, eyes wide open with lips parted slightly. There were no tears, no emotions, the moment numbed him. It didn't feel like reality,

There he crouched, just a few steps away from you. It didn't feel like his heart dropped. It felt almost worse, as if you'd taken it with you. How could this have happened? Did he cause this?

If you had told him a day ago that he would witness the person he loved the most laying on the floor devoid of life, he would have laughed at your face, punching you even. This isn't reality. This isn't a reality he wants to face.

It took every courage in his body to bring himself closer to you, afraid of what more he’d discover. With slow steps, he drew closer, grabbing your hand was the first thing he thought of doing. “Oh god…” his voice broke,

Your body isn't as warm as it used to be,

Not as he remembered. The warmth he loved when he would hold you against him, it’s gone. You're gone.

He had felt countless of stiff lifeless bodies and yet yours hurt the most,

The mere thought of it destroyed him. It hasnt sinked in yet, but he could tell. He could tell his demise is near. The realization will hit him in a short while.

“Baby, im home…” this wasn't him. This was not his voice. Stuttering over the easiest words, strained with pent-up sobs. His chest felt heavy, almost making it difficult to breathe.

Yet with hitched breath, he picked up your limp body and placed you in his arms, crushing your icy body against him. He held you tightly, but his hands cradled your body tenderly. It was as if he’s afraid of hurting you more.

Ghost was forever fearless, always facing whatever challenge was given to him, even his mortal enemy would know that he isnt necessarily the easiest solder to crack, let alone destroy and yet he finds himself sat on the floor holding the lifeless frame of his lover,

Cradling whatever is left of you,

Desperately holding onto what he can possibly hold on to.

The lieutenant everyone looked up on, admired and viewed as an admirable man, sat on the floor with a weighing heart. Holding back the tears that had formed without his knowledge as he held your body,

but right now, he wasn't lieutenant simon ‘ghost’ riley.

At this moment, he was just simon, the simon you loved desperately, the simon who loved you just as insanely.

This person right this moment was your simon,

He wasnt anyone else, he was yours.

As he sat on the hard cold floor, thoughts roaming with his heart screaming, he felt like a mess, but that didn't matter. Words can not describe the regret, remorse, and stupidity he felt,

If i didnt leave,

If i didn't walk out that door,would you still have been alive in my arms?Would i still have to hold you soulless?

He held you closer, bringing you closer to him, as close as possible. He felt nothing but regret, nothing but anger for himself. Why is it that the very grief he tried to protect you from, the same reason he left, the same grief he avoided you to feel, why is it that he’s feeling it now?

His ragged sobs filled the room, and the rest remained still as if everything sympathized for him. As if the world understood the hurt he carried. He sobs, holding onto you as if doing so would bring you back. He knew nothing well, and yet he foolishly cried, hoping you’ll hear him and come back to ease the pain.

Like you always did.

At the corner of his eyes, he saw the letters piled not far from them. Without standing, nor letting go of you, he reached for it. Reading the names addressed on each, until he sees the one for him.

Of all the few letters he saw, his was the only one with tear drops which ruined the ink in front, almost unable to read, he brought it closer, dropping the rest.

Simon,

I felt everything.

Thank you, and im sorry,

I love you :)

Swallowing the impossibly heavy lump on his throat, he opened the carefully folded letter. He was met with even more tear drops. The thought of you crying, alone, while you write him a letter to bid him goodbye, crushed his soul.

He cant imagine a greater pain,

It felt surreal.

How could I..

How could I have lost you this easily.

With his blurry vision, he starts to read—well—attempt to. With every sentence, every punctuation, every meaning of your words, all of it felt like a slap to reality.

How could he have not seen?

How did he not notice? Not paying attention to what you were going through? How could he have been so careless as to leave you all alone.

The very fear you spoke of,

He did just exactly what your family had done.

If anybody could have saved me,

it would have been you.

He read the part over and over again, allowing your words to cut through his heart repeatedly. He left you, and yet, at the end of the day, you still see him as someone—the only one who could save you.

Despite the war inside your mind,

Inside your mind and unwavering emotions, which he hadn't bothered to unveil, he remained the most important person.

May it be in your chaotic mind or the furthest crevices of your heart, he remained on both.

He read it all,

Understanding every single thing you failed to say in person,

Everything you failed to say while you still lived.

It hurts even more. He thought nothing could be more painful when he saw you laying lifeless. But having to read what you wanted to say,

How sorry you were, how thankful you are to him, and how he made you feel.

It was surely another cut to an already existing wound. His mind flashed memories while he went over the tear stained letter you left.

He remembered everything as if they were as fresh as yesterday. When you first smiled at him, when you first held hands, when your lips first touched.

Your words were true. The story of you really is short-lived. But he couldn't help but think about the what If's

If he stayed,

If he hadn't walked out,

If he ignored his fear of abandoning you,

If he hadn't been so stupid and cowardly.

He gave up, and the heavy lump on the throat overcame him, letting the sting linger for as long as eternity. He read the last words on the letter, with a loud sob, with repeated pleads.

Repeatedly apologising, repeatedly begging for you to come back so he could fix things so everything could return to normal,

So you could return.

A childish wish. A high-ranking soldier held the lifeless body of his lover all while he begs for them to come back.

"I'm so sorry." He whispers, voice too broken to speak normally. "I'm sorry for not noticing."

"I'm sorry you had to be alone."

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He repeats over and over again, holding you against him.

At the back of the letter, he could barely see the words written with how blurry the tears clouded his eyes.

Thank you for making me feel.

The words only crushed him even more, sobbing and crying harder to no avail.

"[name]..." He whispers, holding you close. "Did it hurt? I'm sorry, it must have been so hard."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm so sorry for not being here you."

He apologized, wishing he could have been with you. To convince you otherwise, wishing he could have been here to avoid this,

To avoid losing you.

Wishing he could have stayed to keep making you feel.

The thoughts of your words before he left suddenly entered his mind,

"Can I hug you?"

"One last time?"

Now it all makes sense why you looked so serene, why you looked so accepting. Why did you have that small smile on your lips,

You were bidding him goodbye.

That really was the final hug.

The final touch he'd ever get, the final living affection he would get from you.

He holds you now, but it wasn't the same, not even close. Back then, you were smiling and breathing, but now you're no different to an inanimate object. Stiff and cold, this is the person he loved so dearly?

It ached.

And it ached painfully.

The type of ache to never go away, the type of ache he'd keep forever.

The type of ache he'll willingly embrace,

As he held you that night, mourning for what could've been, mourning for someone beyond saving.

This was the ache he'd willingly feel forever,

If it means having you in his mind and heart. He would willingly hurt himself by keeping that ache if it means keeping you in his deceased heart forever.

As the remnant of your memories roamed the room, your presence which now passed, the scent of yours he dearly craved. It left a sillage pain to remember,

You left a sillage worth remembering.

"I'll keep you in my heart,

Even if that damage me,

Even if it kills me.

I'll keep you safe forever."

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lasciviouspoison · 10 months

Text

can i?

full length toji fic for da one time! i’m rlly proud of this one y’all, so i hope u can enjoy! tw: afab!reader, toji x chubby!reader, virgin reader, dirty talk, breeding/mentions of breeding, mentions of after care. basically porn with a mini plot, lol. per usual, all of my works are written with a black archetype in mind, but all can read!! mwah! 💋

you’ve been in a relationship with toji for a few months now and you really like him! he smells good all the time and he takes such good care of you. like seriously, he rarely lets you life a finger around the house and treats you like a princess. he does everything right and is so patient with you that you can’t help but wonder why he’s with you. especially since the two of you have never had sex.

and while you would love nothing more than to take that step with toji, there’s just one problem; you’re a virgin.

he knows this though and he’s never pushed the topic of sex onto you, knowing that you’ll bring it up whenever you’re ready. however, toji doesn’t know that you’ve been ready since like two months of y’all being together.

you know (or can assume) that toji has fucked many women. i mean, look at him. he’s a staggering 6’2, completely ripped, tatted from head to toe, and the epitome of a masculine man. not to mention he’s wealthy and extremely in tune with his and your emotions. put all of this together and he’s the perfect guy!

so how could someone like you, an inexperienced virgin be worthy of being with, never mind fucking, a guy like toji, who could probably fuck you good with his eyes closed and a hand behind his back.

it’s because of thoughts like these you find yourself sitting next to him on the couch, trying to force yourself to watch the movie you begged and begged him to rent with nothing but sex on the brain.

your legs are swung over his spread out lap while his hands rest on your calves. ur little head is spinning with ideas on how to initiate sex that it feels like he’s burning you.

unfortunately for you, you didn’t notice that all that pent up frustration has caused you to unconsciously squirm around in your seat. he noticed it awhile ago. the constant shifting and rubbing your feet together, he figured that something was definitely up.

“what’s wrong baby? why you keep movin’ round so much?” you look him square in the eyes and almost cum. he’s so fucking gorgeous it’s like your body forgot how to work.

“nothin! i’m fine!” you say with a forced smile and quickly turn ur head back to the screen.

just before you can let out the breath you were unknowingly holding, you feel a rough hand grip your chin and you’re met with toji’s face.

“why you lyin to me baby? there’s definitely somethin wrong. tell me” his voice is laced with concern and you feel like such a dickhead. why can’t you just tell him what you want?

after playing with your fingers for a second, you give a little sigh, “i’ve been thinking about it for a while toji, and i, i think i’m ready.”

he tilts his head to the side and looks at you with confusion, “ready for what?”

you lick your lips and look down. you hoped he would get it as soon as you spoke but randomly saying you’re ready probably didn’t make as much sense as you thought it would.

“i’m ready to… to have sex with you. so long as you want to though!”

he stares at you blankly for a few seconds and you’re convinced that he doesn’t want to. panic sets in and your beginning to rise off the couch until he pushes your legs back down to sit.

“say it again baby” he says with a smile.

he can tell that your body is screaming ‘please don’t make me do this’, but he can’t resist. he wants, no, needs to hear his pretty baby tell him how much she needs him.

“i want… i want you to have sex with me toji” you say as lowly as you can and once the words leave your mouth, toji’s moving as fast as he can to cover your body with his.

“well why you ain’t say that to begin with princess? i’ll take care of ya.” he says with that fucking smile you love so much, scar contorting in a way that makes him look less tough.

his lips find yours while his hands make their way under your shirt. he’s slowly raking them up and down your torso, savoring this precious moment.

eventually, he pushes your shirt up above your tits, he’s thanking god that you decided to go bra-less in your newly shared apartment. he separates his mouth from yours and slowly licks your lips. a small chuckle leaves his mouth upon seeing your expression, you already look fucked out.

“don’t look at me like that baby, i might fuck ya too hard”. his words cause your body to tremble, giving him the utmost satisfaction.

he kisses you slowly down your neck until he gets to your tits, making sure to look you dead in the eye when he licks the first bud. your eyes roll into the back of your head and your back arches. if your this sensitive now, he can only imagine how you’ll act with him deep in your cunt.

he goes back and fourth, suckling on one and using his forefinger and thumb to play with the other. it’s driving you crazy and your thighs are non stop rubbing together.

“toji please. please just fuck me already.” your voice comes out much whinier than expected. it makes his chest swell with pride.

“gotta prep you first sugar. don’t wanna have you pushin my hips away.” he says as he sits back on his heels, hands gripping the waistband of your sleep shorts.

he slowly pulls them down and god is he pissed with you. how the fuck could you keep this pretty pussy away from him for this long? it looks like his own personal heaven.

“oh baby, ya got the prettiest lil pussy on you huh? look at ‘er, bet she wants me reeeaaalll bad, yeah?” he’s slowly stroking the inside of your thigh. he can feel the tensing of your muscle and it almost makes him laugh. just a couple words and touches and his baby is already begging for him.

he swipes down your slit and you choke on a breath. he looks up from your pussy to your face as he finally touches your clit for the first time. he watches as your face scrunches almost immediately, pretty lips forming into the perfect pout.

he brings his fingers down to your entrance and pushes in, basking in the feeling of your pussy opening up for him with no resistance. “see baby. see how easy my fingers slid in? awww, why’re you cryin?”

your eyes are teary and you can’t stop moving. his fingers fill you up so good that you could cum right now. your so sensitive it hurts and he’s the only one to blame.

“‘m sensitive toji. please just put it in. ‘m beggin you”. you say between sniffles. toji has fucked women before, but none have been as responsive to his touch as you. so, none of them will ever be able to say that toji fushiguro fucked them better than he’s going to fuck you.

after a few more pumps, he pulls his finger out of you and you shudder. before reaching for the neckline of his shirt, he puts his finger into his mouth and tastes your juices. he groans at how good you taste. he’s in genuine disbelief that pussy could have him like this before he’s even been in it.

he finally finishes and pulls off his shirt, exposing his tatted chest and arms. you could drool with how pretty he looks right now. he hurriedly throws of his sweats and positions himself back into his spot.

he grips his dick and rubs it up and down your slit, causing a moan to erupt through the both of you. he does this a few more times before tapping your clit and finally positioning himself at your entrance.

he moves his upper body closer to yours, wanting to be able to see every expression your about to make when he pushes in. he gives you a quick kiss before finally pushing in the tip.

you gasp loudly and he emits a quick “shit” before continuing inside of you. you try to close your legs but both of his hands are quick to push your thighs back, opening you up even wider for him.

you sniffle, “you almost in toji? can’t take much more!” you felt so full, it was insane. your head was so dizzy from just the pure pressure of his dick. he was so heavy inside you, and with that curve to the left, he was hitting all the right spots.

“jus about halfway baby. want me to stop?” toji couldn’t discern whether his dick was that big or if your pussy was that little. either way, it didn’t bother him, just let him know that he’ll have a lot of fun training your cunt to take all of him.

“yes please. just want you to move” your words are already slurred. he thinks your so beautiful like this.

without saying a word, he kisses your temple and starts rocking his hips back and fourth. your body immediately reacts and your hands go to push his hips away. he takes a hand off your thigh and grips both of your hands. he sucks his teeth lightly and grins “told ya so”.

on the other hand, your too lost in pleasure to care about him being right. the only thing on your mind right now is dick. toji’s dick and how it’s sliding in and out of you at such a delicious pace.

your trembling like a leaf in the wind and toji feels like this position might be too much for you to handle.

he calls out to you, but you’re too delirious to hear him. he taps your cheek and it finally feels like the ringing in your ears has stopped. “this too much for ya sweet thing? wanna try this a different way?”

you immediately shake your head yes. while toji having control was great and seemingly normal, it was too much to have to tell him when to stop and continue when you felt this good.

pulling out of you gently, toji sat upright on the couch and sat you on his thighs, each of your legs on either side of his body.

“g’nna let ya ride me. just do what feels good okay?” he was treating you so sweetly, you couldn’t help but worry about him being satisfied too.

“but what about you toji? want you to feel good too”. if you asked toji if he thought his dick could get any harder prior to this, he would’ve said no. however, you continue to prove him wrong.

he put his head into the side of your neck and kissed you softly, “watching you feel good makes me feel good princess. do what you want, i just wanna watch”.

you shook your head and raised yourself up on your knees. you grabbed toji and lined him up with your entrance. you felt his arms snake around your waist and you began to sit on him, eyes flitting from his to his dick.

still, taking toji was no easy feat. although you got about a third of the way, the rest was still too painful for you to take.

sensing you were beginning to feel disappointed in yourself, toji brought you in for a kiss. “keep your eyes on me okay, i’ll make sure you take it all.”

with wide eyes you watched as one of his arms circled around to play with your clit, while the other slightly bounced you up and down. you did as toji said, and never took your eyes off of his beautiful face, well, not until you felt yourself hit his legs once again.

you couldn’t believe you took all of him, considering his girth and your inexperience, but you did it. feeling his arms wrap around you once again, toji brought you close to his body. “told ya you could take it. so proud of you”.

his praise set you off in a way that was new to the both of you. not only did you squeeze him tighter than you already where, but your hips immediately began to grind against his, clit rubbing on the happy trail you asked toji to grow out once upon a time.

your moans grew louder and your movements grew faster and sloppier. between bouncing and grinding, toji knew he was in for a treat when it would come to him teaching you how to ride him correctly. it’s what made him lick his teeth and angle his head down to your tit to suck and play with.

“m’close toji. can feel it in my tummy” your voice was so whiny, you weren’t even sure if it was you speaking.

with toji now keened in with your approaching orgasm, he planted his feet to the wooden floor and gripped your waist, pressing your hips into his to help you grind harder on his pelvis. “let it go f’r me baby. wanna feel you come for the first time. wanna see how pretty that face looks when you come on my cock”.

you could only nod, feeling your body grow tired from the uncoordinated movements. “toji, can you keep talkin’?”

oh how could he tell you no?! he was so happy to hear you ask him to do something, something you liked! “‘course i can baby. ‘s so sweet that such a innocent girl like you wants to hear nasty things. wants ‘er daddy to tell her how badly he wants her. how i wanna fuck you till you cry. gonna train you to take all of me so easily that i can fuck ya anywhere. turn ya into my own personal slut. fill you up, turn ya into a mommy. would you like that baby? your pussy surely does- oh! there ya go baby, that’s it! cum on this cock baby” he finishes with a laugh.

you’re cumming. you’re cumming so hard you see stars. your body feels like it’s burning and all you want is for toji to fulfill everything he said and then some. if fucking toji feels like this, then you never wanna stop.

he can feel you shaking and forces your hips to a stop. he lets you circle around his cock while you ride out your high, trying his best to not fuck into you from below. he’s gritting his teeth with how badly he wants to ruin you, but he’ll save that for another day.

you finally look up at him with low eyes and a fucked out expression, “wanna feel you cum too toji. please? can i?”

not trusting his voice, toji shakes his head and gently gives it to you from below. he’s holding you to his chest tightly, groaning lowly in your ear.

it doesn’t take much for toji to reach his high. with a screwed up face and a tight jaw, toji cums in you for the very first time and feels like he just fell in love with you all over again.

his head falls onto the back of the couch and he’s taking deep breaths to calm himself down. he feels you move off of his chest and swipe some hair from his forehead.

he looks down at you and smiles, “i love you yn”

it’s the first time he’s said it and you couldn’t be happier. you instantly brighten up, “i love you toji”.

he kisses you a final time before carrying the two of you to the bathroom to run you a warm bath and dote on you. he feels his chest swell with love in realizing that you’ve given him the final piece of yourself, and how much he’ll cherish it.

#toji x reader #toji x black y/n #toji fushiguro #toji x chubby reader #toji thirst #daddy toji #toji smut #toji x black reader #i’d suck the skin off dat di-

2K notes · View notes

beybaldes · 10 months

Text

no thing defines a man like love that makes him soft

Roy Kent × Fem!Reader

word count: 9.8k

summary: jamie tartt once told you Roy needed someone to show him it was okay to be soft; Roy has found that person in you

content warning: spoilers for the plot of 'the couple next door' by Shari Lapena, tooth rotting fluff with the whole Kent bloodline and the Richmond boys, neither reader nor Roy has parents because I said so, allusions to smut but basically non written.

masterlist

a/n: this is technically a part 2 to my fic ‘it was simple, it was sweetness, it was good to know’ but can 100% be read as a standalone fic!! Thank you for all the love on the first part I acc can’t believe the amount of love and support it received 🥲🥲

"Hey, hot stuff." Your hands came to rest against Roy's shoulders, squeezing, then moving slowly across his collar bones and down his chest, coming to rest connected just above his heart. A featherlight kiss was pressed to the shell of his ear, and then another behind his ear, followed by a trail of quick kisses down his neck until your face was buried in the crook of it. "How's your book?"

"Fucking great." Roy answered back, voice low and mellow, maintaining the peaceful atmosphere in your living room.

Ever since you'd moved in together a year and a half ago, your entire house had become a sanctuary for the two of you. Roy's new position as manager made it so that even though you worked together, you saw much less of each other during the workday - mainly because it wasn't at his leisure to go in and out of your office all day any more. Even if you did spend every minute of every day around each other, you knew you could never get sick of Roy; you'd become quite the experts at communicating how you were feeling and what you were thinking, especially since every time he tried to keep you out, you would figure it out anyway.

"I mean, I've had my theories throughout about who did it, but I'd never have guessed this." Roy missed your touch as soon as you let go of him, reaching out so that he could hold your hand in his tightly while you walked around the couch to take a seat by his side. "I thought surely, what, with the husband having the affair he did it - and I was half right, the husband staged the kidnapping."

"I knew something was up with him!" You gasped, wrapping your arms around Roy's waist as you curled into his side, the hand that had just been holding yours pulling his blanket to cover your lap then moving to rest across your shoulders. "How was the husband involved? He didn't hurt the baby did he?" He used the palm of his hand to press your head against his chest, tucking your hair back behind your ear and then moving his hand to rest against your bicep, scratching his fingers gently into the exposed flesh there. "Oh my god, he didn't, like, get rid of it so he could be with the neighbour did he?"

"Slow down, slow down," Roy shushed, folding the corner of the page he was on, something so close to the end of the book you could count the pages if you tried. He pressed a chaste, warm kiss to the crown of your head, placing the book down beside him on the couch. "Let me explain, Angel." Roy's other hand, now free from holding the book, cradled your chin gently, tilting your head up so he could press a tender kiss to your lips. "So Anne's dad-"

Another gasp slipped past your lips. More then anything, you wanted to let Roy explain the plot of what he'd been reading, but his nightly updates had kept you on the edge of your seat. Despite not having read a single page, apart from the 2 chapters you read aloud to Roy earlier in the week when he was feeling a little under the weather, you were completely and utterly enthralled; desperate to know how it ended. Besides, this daily discussion was the highlight of your days. No matter how good or bad your day had been, if you'd gone out of your way to ignore each other or talked nonstop: Roy still talked and you still listened. "What did Anne's dad have to do with it?"

"You'll see." He chastised, pressing a kiss to the tip-of your nose before continuing with his explanation. "Marco assists in kidnapping the baby, why? Because his business is going out of money and he plans on faking a ransom note for asking for the exact amount of money he needs to pay up to save his business." Roy slid his hand under the blanket, pulling your legs up and into his lap as you brought your head up from against his chest. Threading your fingers through his hair, you looked at him confused. "Anne's parents are rich, remember? But they won't give him the money so he stages this kidnapping to force them to pay the ransom."

"No." You gasped, you hand clapping against your mouth. "Why wouldn't they give their son in law the money? They do know it directly affects their daughter and grand-daughter, right?"

"They won't give him the money because they don't like him, so get this, the guy who convinced Marco to stage the kidnapping was hired by Anne's dad." Roy laughed at the gasp you let out, you completely enthralled with the story and him completely enthralled with you. He always was. "Anne's dad staged the whole thing because he wanted Anne and Marco to split up. And just when you think everything's okay because they got the baby back; Anne murders the neighbour because she had been having an affair - with Anne’s dad.”

You were practically jumping in your seat.

Sometimes you wish you had the same amount of patience as Roy so you could actually sit down and read with him. Most of the time, however, you were more then happy to listen to him passionately talk you through what he was reading, were happy to watch that wonderful smile you loved so much curl onto his lips.

"But!"

"But-" you repeated after Roy, pressing a kiss to his cheek, urging him to hurry up with his ending; you were waiting to hear it.

"But, Anne doesn't remember killing the neighbour, so there is this whole unreliable light cast on the whole story; it might not have even happened!" Roy expected to find you staring at him in shock, some commentary on what you think happened on the tip of your tongue, but it never came.

Instead, he found you staring at him with complete adoration, like you'd watched him mould the galaxies in his hands, hang the stars in the sky and spin the world on his fingernails. To you, he did, he really did. You leant forward a little, using the hand that you'd tangled in Roy's hair to pull him closer to you so that you could press your lips to his. The kiss was soft and tender, something that Roy, ever intense, had really come to enjoy through out your relationship; you brought out this entirely different side to him that he wasn't even sure existed until he met you.

"I love you." You murmured against his lips, going in for another quick peck before you pulled away, gracing him with the sight of a smile. "I love how passionate you get when talking about the stuff you love, and that smile - ugh that smile, Roy - you're killing me here."

Roy was certain he was doing the right thing. So certain, in fact, that he'd bought the ring the day you got together: Phoebe's accusation in your living room that you were getting married telling him everything he needed to know. The life Roy had dreamed of was right before him, all he had to do now was take it. "Marry me."

"What?" The hand that had began to caress his cheek as you kissed and the hand in his hair stilled; your entire body stilled in fact, and as quickly as he'd become confident enough to ask the question, he'd become nervous again.

"Fuck, what I meant was; will you marry me?" Roy shuffled underneath you, pulling out a ring box from somewhere behind him, though you weren't sure where considering you knew his pyjama bottoms didn't have pockets. "I'm not the kind of guy for a big speech thing, but I wish I was because you fucking deserve that kind of thing. You deserve a lot more then I can ever give you, actually, and yet you still love me day in and day fucking out. I'll admit, sometimes I don't get why you do."

"Roy..." You whimpered, tears brimming in your eyes as you moved both of your hands to cradle his face.

"But you do. And I'd truly, really, be the luckiest man in the world, if you would marry grumpy, old me." Tears had formed in Roy's own eyes, the pair of you totally overwhelmed by the intimate and tender moment. You'd never been more in love with Roy then right now. "Please fucking say yes, I'm an absolute mess without you"

"Yes, please." You whispered, hands still cradling Roy's face even though your eyes remained on the ring in front of you. It was as if he'd peeked inside your brain and made the perfect ring; it was simple yet elegant and entirely you, it was really perfect. This time, you answered louder. "Please, yes."

You pulled Roy's face to you, pressing a firm and hot kiss to his lips. You let your hands leave his face, sliding up and over his cheekbones until you reached his hair, twisting your fingers into it and pulling him even tighter against you, deepening the kiss as you did. "A million times yes, Roy, yes, yes, yes." Tears had begun to freely flow down your cheeks, though there was not an ounce of sadness to them. You were insurmountably happy - over the fucking moon. "I'd say yes in every fucking language in the world if I could. I love you Roy." You bit your lip back between your teeth, trying to contain your smile since your cheeks burned. "Mrs Kent." A giggle slipped past your lips. "That's me."

"Fuck yeah, that's you." Roy growled, pulling you into him and pressing a kiss to your lips. His grip in your hair allowed him to tilt your head back slightly, giving him the perfect angle to push his tongue past your lips with a tug of his hand on your hair. If he had already put the ring on your finger, he'd have picked you up and taken you to bed then and there with the moan you let out. "Now, Mrs Kent, you going to let me put this ring on your fucking finger or what?"

~*~

You were thankful Roy had proposed on a Friday night; not only because that meant you didn't have to worry about how late he kept you up or how quickly you needed to regain the ability to walk straight, but because it gave you the rest of Saturday and all of Sunday to figure out how to tell your friends. Phoebe and Molly were coming over for dinner later that night, but you had a slight feeling you weren't actually going to have to say anything to them - you had no doubt Roy had consulted Molly over it, and Phoebe, well, you just knew she'd pick up on it the second she saw you.

"C'mere." Roy groaned beside you, not giving you the chance to move yourself before he was wrapping one arm around your waist and the other under your thigh. He slid you across the bed with ease, years of training still paying off despite the fact he hadn't played on a pitch in nearly 4 years now. Placing the leg he'd grabbed over his own leg, he pulled you flush against him, chest pressed to chest. "Good morning, Angel, sleep good?"

Roy's voice had a deeper edge then usual to it in the morning. "Always do when I'm with you, Handsome." You purred, gently scratching your fingers against his chest. "Although I've got this awful kink in my neck, must’ve slept funny."

"I can think of a few other kinks you've got." Roy murmured against your shoulder, pressing open mouthed kissed along it and up your neck. When he nipped at the sensitive skin just under your ear, you pushed yourself away from him, not out of want, but out of necessity.

"We've got guests in a few hours, remember?"

"I can do a lot in an hour alone." Given how late the two of you had been up doing things, you'd slept in till lunch, but that didn't make the sound of sleepy and slow morning sex with Roy any less appealing. God, the thought of it alone had you wanting to cancel everything ever and stay here forever.

"Hmm, that you can do." Pulling his head out of the crook of your neck, you pressed a kiss to his lips, tangling your hands into Roy's hair and trying impossibly hard to get even closer to him. "Show me what you got, coach."

A growl rolled out of Roy's throat and he was quick to get started on his own assault of your lips, fully using the position he'd pulled you into to his advantage.

~*~

After everything the two of you spent your early afternoon doing, you only had 2 hours to make sure everything was ready for when Molly and Phoebe showed up, and since your cooking skills ended at turkey dinosaurs and pizza, you left most of the work down to Roy. He let you help prepare ingredients, standing behind you with an arm wrapped around your waist and a hand guiding your hand to cut things a specific way. But when the time came to actually cook the meal, he guided you out of the kitchen, encouraging you to go and get ready with a soft kiss; one to your cheek and another to your temple.

When you'd showered and gotten ready, you made it your turn to kick Roy out of the kitchen, promising not to touch anything unless he asked you to. You made sure to set the table all nice and proper for Phoebe and Molly's arrival, still slightly starstruck by the actual use of the dining table and not just eating dinner on your couch like you'd become so accustomed to before you and Roy moved in together. Sometimes though, especially when Phoebe stayed over, you'd all eat dinner together on the sofa, spy kids playing in the background, for old times sake. And before you knew it, you'd heard the knock at the door.

Swinging the door open, you knelt down immediately, sweeping Phoebe into your arms and hugging her tightly. With her head tucked in between your shoulder and neck, you stuck out your left hand at Molly, wriggling your ring finger enthusiastically. Phoebe squealed your name, wrapping her little arms tightly around your neck; even though you'd seen her two days ago when you picked her up from school, she still missed you as much as if she hadn't seen you for a million years.

As you went to stand back up, phoebe kept her grip on your neck, a silent plea for you to pick her up. Even at 9 years old, she still loved being paraded around in your arms, taking full advantage of your love for her and her love of being close to you. You pulled Molly into the house by the hand, kicking the door shut with your foot and leading them to the kitchen, where Roy was finishing up dinner.

"Hi, Uncle Roy!" Phoebe opted to stay in your arms instead of wiggling out of them to give Roy a 'hello' hug, knowing he was busy cooking and shouldn't be interrupted.

"Hey Phoebe, dinner will be ready in 2 minutes, okay? Why don't you go and grab your phoebe mug from your room before we all sit down?" When you and Roy moved in together, it was a unanimous decision that Phoebe needed her own room in your house; and when you were moving her things from Roy and your separate houses into your new house you got her a 'phoebe mug' as a housewarming gift. It was a bright pink ceramic mug, her name written once by you on the front and once by Roy on the back - it was the only thing she would drink out of when she was at your house.

The second phoebe had slipped out of the room, you turned to Molly with a squeal, the two of you grabbing tightly onto each other and jumping around the kitchen. Roy watched fondly as the two of you gushed over the ring Molly had already seen a thousand times. She took your hand in hers, running her finger over the ring with a featherlight touch, tears filling her waterline. Molly grabbed your hand and pulled it over her shoulder, hugging you again, though this time more tenderly, more teary-eyed.

"I'd say welcome to the family, but I think you've been a part of it since the day you met Phoebe." Tears began to fill your own eyes at the words she whispered against the shell of your ear. "You make him so happy, so, so happy, and that's all I could ever want for Roy. It's all I ever way for you." Molly pulled away from the hug, wiping her thumb under your eye as your tears threatened to spill over. "He loves you. We all do. I love you."

"I love you too, Molly." Just as quickly as she'd pushed you away, you pulled her in for another hug, squeezing her tightly as though it would convey everything you were feeling. It did.

At the sound of feet running down your hallway, Molly jumped away from you, quickly wiping at her own eyes before turning to face her little girl. She gently took the mug from her hands and passed it to you, ushering her to the dining table while you and Roy plated up.

"What did she say to you?" Roy asked, knocking his hip against yours as he he started putting food into each plate.

You pulled Phoebe's favourite cordial off your shelf, pouring some in then moving past Roy to get to the sink to dilute it. "Nothing." He couldn't see the smile that formed on your face as you thought on what your future sister in law had said to you moments prior. "Just that she loves me, she loves you. That she's happy for us."

Roy wrapped an arm around you from behind as he came to join you at the sink, leaning past you to put his cooking tongs in. "I can't wait to see Phoebe's reaction." Roy murmured against the skin of your neck, pressing a kiss there then spinning you around to face him. "She absolutely adores you. She's gonna be over the fucking moon."

"Not more over the moon then me." You pressed another kiss to his lips, making sure to keep the cordial far away from you and Roy incase it spilled.

Roy turned his back on you, picking up two of the bigger plates. "I wouldn't be so sure about that."

"Oh really?" You asked, picking up the final big plate and Phoebe's smaller own. "I get to marry the love of my life and be officially related to some of the people I love the most. I think I win."

"We'll see." With one last kiss the two of you headed towards the dining table, all four of you tucking into dinner and telling each other about your weeks like clockwork; though you and Roy refrained from one pretty big event till after dinner.

When your food was all finished, you'd given Phoebe a bigger bowl of ice cream then usual, immediately prompting her to be suspicious. "Either I've been really good at school this week, or you guys have done something really bad."

"It's not like that Pheeb's, we're actually celebrating." Phoebe's head perked up at that as she mentally checked it wasn't anyone's birthday, or 'uncles day,' or Mother's Day, or 'future aunties day' (as she'd dubbed it) and she'd forgotten. When she ruled that she definitely hadn't forgotten anything, she turned to you in wait.

"What are we celebrating?"

"Me and your uncle Roy-"

"Holy shit." Smiles crept on all three of your faces as Phoebe pieced it together in her mind. "Are you getting married? Please tell me you're getting married?"

"Are getting married." As you brought your ring adorned hand up for her to see, Phoebe burst into tears, jumping off of her seat and running around to the other side of the table where you and Roy sat. She was quick to climb into Roy's lap, wrapping one arm around each of your knecks to pull you into a hug.

"This is the best day of my life." She whispered, her words coming out in a whine as she tried desperately hard to keep her tears in. "Do I get to be a flower girl?"

"Of course you get to be the flower girl, what kind of fucking question is that?" Roy scolded though a smile remained on his face, you wouldn't have anyone one else as your flower girl. Your niece was barely walking and besides, not that you'd ever admit it with them present, but you much preferred Phoebe to any blood relative you had.

Phoebe's face turned into a frown at Roy's words. "You owe me £1, uncle Roy."

"After the S-bomb you dropped before? I think we're even."

~*~

When Monday rolled around, you were extremely nervous. It wasn't that you thought any of the people at Nelson road would react badly to your engagement, you knew non of them would, you were nervous in the way you are at 8 years old on Christmas Eve - in a giddy way when you can't wait for what you feel to be shared.

You'd come up with a plan in bed the night before - announce it to Beard first, then to the boys, and then you'd make your way up to Rebecca's office to announce it to her, Higgins and Keeley (who'd you thankfully knew would be at the dog track this morning for a meeting).

To execute step 1 with no interruptions, you made sure to arrive an hour earlier to work then you usually would - knowing that Beard liked to show up early and the boys would show up as close to practice as they could get away with. Just as you expected, Beard was alone in the office, only a couple of other people in the building at all, making for an easy entrance.

"Well, to what do I owe the pleasure of you two showing up earlier then you ever have in the 5 years I've known you." Beard asked, his feet perched high up on his desk and an open book dropped against his chest.

"I needed to ask you something, actually." Roy wrapped an arm around your waist, rubbing soothing circles into your skin, silently encouraging you to ask what you wanted to ask.

"Fire away, Katniss."

"I actually wanted to ask, um, well, if you'd walk me down the aisle?"

Beard stilled, then took a shaky breath, then stilled again. He slowly picked up the book from his chest, dog-eared the page and swung his feet down from his desk, standing and crossing the room so that he could stand in front of you. "You, you-" Another shaky breath. "You want me? Me? To walk you down the aisle?"

"Yeah. You're the closest thing I've ever had to a father and-"

Beard pulled you into a hug, something he'd never done before, and tentatively wrapped his arms under yours, pinning you against him. He was warm and smelled like cinnamon, and though you'd never been a big fan of the scent, you found right now that you'd happily bask in it forever. "Yes, of course I will, it'd be an honour."

No further words were exchanged between the two of you until he pulled away, quickly wiping at his eyes before turning to Roy with a scowl. "I can fight, just so you know." He took a step closer to him, and you swore you'd never seen Roy so afraid as when Beard stuck a firm finger in his chest. "If you hurt her, I'll hurt you." Then he retreated to his chair, picking up his book and replacing it against his chest. "So when were you thinking? I always thing spring is the best time for a wedding."

The three of you discussed everything from what date you were thinking to ideal song choices while you waited for the changing room to fill up, wanting to make sure everyone had arrived before you shared the news. When Roy had done his 6th head count and found everyone had arrived, he nodded towards the door, asking if you were ready to go and tell everyone. You nodded, letting Roy lead the way and hanging in the doorway of the coaches office until Beard was at your side.

"You didn't have to threaten him, you know. He's never hurt me once, I don't think he's going to start now."

Beard folded his arms across his chest then nudged you gently in the side as the the two of you came to stand next to Roy, him shouting 'whistle,' silencing the changing room. "Hey, that's what dads are for."

"Before I start, someone grab Nate and Will from the boot room." Jamie, being closest to the boot room, dashed in and right back out, Will and Nate right behind him. "Right. Angel, the floor is yours."

You thanked Roy before turning back to the boys, all of them waiting anxiously as they waited to see what you had to say that was so important Roy had even called Will and Nate out. "I need to know if you're all available next June - we're talking the end of June, early July." Thankfully, your job at Richmond often required planning things far in advance, even if far in advance was a year away, so no one expected anything as you started to speak. "I know it's the off season but I need you all here, in Richmond. Especially Colin."

"Why especially me?" Colin asked, one hand nervously wringing the other.

"Because I absolutely refuse to get married if my man of honour won't be able to make it."

The whole changing room erupted into a chorus of gasps, quickly followed by cheers and players and kitmen alike swarming you and Roy with hugs and cries of congratulations - which, for once, he actually entertained.

Colin was the first to reach for you to pull you into a hug, his hands shaking as he did. "You really want me to be your man of honour? At your wedding?"

"Of course I do, Col." It didn't get any less tearful asking people to be apart of your wedding. "Your my best friend. I love you." No sooner then Colin had pulled you into another hug had you been torn out of it, by a very excited Jamie.

"I can't fucking believe it me. Well, I can actually, but I also can't." He pulled you in for an even tighter hug then Colin had, probably down to the fact he had more excitement then nerves coursing through his system. "Feels like yesterday me and Phoebe were sat on your couch convincing you Roy did love you, and now look at yous."

"Will Phoebe be at the wedding?" Isaac had spun you out of Jamie's hold and into his, keeping one arm around your shoulder as he spoke to you. "Cause I don't want to be the only person eating the turkey dinosaurs; there will be turkey dinosaurs right?"

"Of course there will be, Isaac." Will pulled you out from under Isaac's arm and into a sweet, although brief, hug. "Right? Otherwise I might have to RSVP no."

"Im sure it can be arranged, what, with all of Roy's footballer money." The two laughed at your words, though a certain footballer turned coach found them more amusing.

"All my footballer money, huh?"

"I hope the fact I'm only marrying you for your money doesn't make you want to call off the wedding." You teased, spinning around and wrapping your arms around Roy's neck.

He pressed a slow and sensual kiss to your lips, ignoring the teasing shouts and cheers from his team. "Hmm, you're lucky you're cute." Roy pressed another kiss to your lips, paying no mind to the curious stares of the team around him. Though when they began to linger for a minute too long, he pulled away from you with a sigh. "Right, 50 laps, all of you." When no one moved, he raised his voice. "Now!"

Roy intertwined his fingers with yours, waving a goodbye to Beard but promising to be back before the boys had finished their 50 laps.

Keeley had reacted just how you expected her to - with many screams and squeals and a tight hug that nearly knocked you off the ground. Rebecca and Higgins were much more reserved in their responses but each offered a hug and a congratulation's to the happy couple. Roy kept your fingers intertwined the whole time, squeezing your hand tight each time someone reached out for a hug but putting up with their love otherwise.

You couldn't wait to marry him.

~*~

Knowing that the off season would start around the beginning of June, you'd decided early on the last week of June was the perfect time for the two of you to get married. And while the end of June was still a month and a half away, you were seriously considering calling the wedding off.

When you'd found out you were pregnant in February, you knew you had to keep it a close secret until you'd finished the first trimester, just incase anything happened to you or the baby, and each week since you'd found out you kept swearing to yourself you were going to tell Roy. You still hadn't. Which brought you to right now, where you were crying on the floor of your ensuite bathroom at the dead of night, at just over 12 weeks pregnant and a baby bump beginning to show.

Given the cold weather of early spring you'd kept it hidden pretty well so far, but with the progressively warmer weather, it was getting harder and harder to hide. Above that, you were now very much aware that since the baby bump had appeared, it was only going to get bigger - and you were in absolute tears over wether or not you were still going to fit into the outfit you'd picked. While your choice of outfit for your wedding wasn't anything extravagant, it made you feel extremely pretty, and hugged you in just the right way - it wouldn't if you were four months pregnant and with a baby bump that you felt was the size of Saturn.

One particularly loud sob had you clamping a hand over your mouth, hoping and praying to anything out there that Roy hadn't heard you. You didn't want him stressing, especially when you were crying over trivial things considering the life you'd always dreamed was within your grasp.

Roy's eyes blinked open though he wasn't entirely sure why, however, when he rolled over and attempted to wrap his arms around you, he was met with cold and empty sheets. The cool feel of the sheets beneath his fingers had him shooting awake; clearly you'd been out of bed a while, and considering it was pushing 2am, his first thought was that you were sick. Which wasn't too far from the truth.

Slowly, he made his way towards your en-suite bathroom, rubbing at his eyes to get him to wake up quicker. Pushing the door open, his entire being froze at the sight of you crying on the bathroom floor, him immediately falling to the ground next to you and pulling you into his lap. One hand brushed your hair out of your face while the other cupped the back of your head, pressing it into the crook of his neck. "It's okay Angel, I'm here, I'm here."

It took Roy roughly 15 minutes of rocking you gently in his arms and whispering soothing words into your hair before your sobs calmed down enough that you could talk without your words turning into a whimper. "C'mon Angel, talk to me." The way Roy oh so gently cradled your face had tears springing to your eyes again. "Or is it about me? Do you want me to call Molly? I'm sure she wouldn't mind-"

"No, it's about me." A fresh set of tears were rolling down your cheeks, but the heaving sobs that had been coming from your chest before ceased. "It's me, I've ruined everything."

"Angel..."

"I just wanted to wear a nice fucking outfit on my wedding day, and I can't, and its making me so sad it's stupid." Roy's thumb continuously wiped at the tears that were furiously running down your cheeks. "And it makes me even more sad because, because, I'm getting everything I've ever dreamed of and I'm sad over something stupid like what I can wear."

"It's not stupid, Angel face." Roy murmured against your temple, the scratch of his beard against your skin familiar and comforting. "Nothings stupid if it makes you so upset. Just talk me through it, yeah? Why can't you wear what you picked? Did it get damaged or something?"

"No, no, it's fine, it's just- it won't fit me anymore." Roy pressed a kiss to your temple, immediately spouting words of reassurance that it would still fit you and if it didn't he'd hire the best tailor in the world to make it fit and that regardless, you'd look incredibly beautiful no matter what you wore. You shook your head gently. "It's not that Roy, it's, I'm-"

You readjusted yourself in Roy's lap, turning so that your legs were either side of his, caging him in. You wrapped your arms around his neck, looking down at the bump you could just see through one of Roy's old jerseys you'd fallen asleep in, while you avoided his concerned gaze. "It's not going to fit me anymore, because I'm pregnant, Roy."

Silence filled the bathroom.

When you finally gained the courage to look up at Roy, tears were pooled in his eyes, that wonderful smile of his making the most tender appearance you'd ever seen. "You're pregnant?" He whispered, mumbling the two words over, and over, and over again. "You're pregnant."

Before you could ask Roy if he was okay, he was pressing his lips to yours, allowing the tears to fall from his eyes though without the noise of a sob. He simply kissed you over, and over, and over again, only pulling away when he could no longer contain the smile that what pulling at his lips. Your hands cradled his cheeks, wiping away each tear gently with the pad of your thumb. "I can't believe I'm crying." He scoffed, though didn't move away from to ur touch as you continued to wipe away his tears.

"If it makes you feel any better, I find the vulnerability of it incredibly hot."

One of Roy's hands moved from the side of your thighs to cup your cheek, pushing hair back behind your ear as a watery smile took over his face.

"You know," Roy paused, tenderly running his fingers up and down the side of your neck as his hand slipped down from your cheek to hold you there. "If you'd come to me 5 years ago, back when Ted and Beard first started, and told me in 5 years time I'd have everything I'd ever dreamed of? And, with the gorgeous woman from the office outside the changing rooms? I would've laughed in your face and told you to fuck off." After a moments thought, he added. "I probably wouldn't have let anyone get close enough to me to tell me that in the first place, to be honest."

"Look how far you've come." You mused, one hand slipping into the hair at the base of Roy's neck as his tears slowly stopped. "Some might say that I've made you go soft.”

Roy laughed, head tilted back against the bathroom wall as he was prevented from throwing it back further. The tilt of his head upwards granted you the perfect position to press a chaste kiss to his lips. He smiled at you softly, bringing his hand forward from the side of your neck so that he could cup your jaw. "To be loved, is to be changed." He hummed, his chest tightening as tears filled your eyes once more.

"I love you, Roy." You whispered, as though even saying it would break the sincerity of the words slipping from your lips. Although you'd said them a thousand times, it was like Roy was hearing it for the first time all over again. "Like I really, really love you Roy." Leaning forward, you rested your forehead against his. "So much... so much so that I feel like I'm never going to be able to express it enough, like if I don't get it out of me, I might die."

Roy pressed a searing kiss to your lips, sliding his hand back up your jaw and under your ear, tangling his fingers in the hair there. "I love you too, more then i ever thought I was capable of loving anyone.” Roy leaned in for another kiss then pulled away with a smirk as you ground yourself into him. "Want me to show you how much I love you, yeah?"

"Definitely."

Roy put his hands back to their original place under your thighs, slowly moving the two of you from your position on the bathroom floor to standing once more. When he was standing, you held in his arms with your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, you continued the clash of tongue and teeth you'd started moments again. However, before he could get started on showing you just how much he loved you, you leaned away from him, eyes running over his whole face. "You might have to hold off on doing that thing with your hips, y'know, because of the baby."

"I'll stop doing that when the doctor tells me to stop."

~*~

Fortunately for you, at your next check up the following Thursday, the doctor gave you the all clear - on the health of the baby and the fact Roy could continue working magic with his hips. Considering you were nearly 14 weeks along, the ultrasound technician had offered to let you know the gender of the baby, but both you and Roy had agreed that you didn't want to know. You so seriously didn't want anyone to know, in fact, that Roy made a show of ripping up the envelope that contained the baby's gender right in front of the ultrasound technician after she offered it out to you; her suggestion of a gender reveal dying on her tongue.

Roy had been nothing but attentive since he'd found out; moving at your beck and call even more then normal, so much so that people around Nelson road were beginning to notice.

"Alright, what's going on?" The second Roy left your office, Isaac, Colin and Will crowed into the room, locking the door behind them. If you weren’t such a veteran of their shenanigans, you'd be getting concerned. "Are you dying?"

"Why would I be dying?" You asked, clicking the email you'd been writing closed, giving the three lads your undivided attention.

"Roy's been following you, like, more then usual though." Isaac stated, folding his arms tightly across his chest. "Weird, innit."

Before you could question what they found weird about you talking to and hanging around your fiancé, Will stepped forward, his hands tucked sheepishly in his pockets. "You're pregnant, right? I'm like 80% sure you're pregnant."

Your hand came to rest against the small bump you'd concealed under your Richmond sweater.

"Holy fuck boyo." Colin gasped, smacking his hand into Will's chest. "She is. How did you know?"

"She's glowing." Isaac and Colin tilted their heads in sync while their gaze remained directly on you, as though they were trying to see what Will saw. When it appeared they couldn't, Will let out a sigh, scratching nervously at the back of his neck. "I don't know; maybe it's the lighting."

Silence took over your small office space, the four of you alternating between staring at each other and the hand that rested against your stomach.

"Angel, you got-" Roy paused at the sight before him, scanning the room with a pointed glare. While Isaac had had the sense to lock the main door to your office when he started his interrogation, it had seemed he had forgotten to lock the connecting door from your office into the changing rooms. You'd never been more thankful to be in an office with two doors. After a few more seconds of assessment, he seethed out a "Fuck! Not a word of this to anyone, yeah?"

All three lads nodded in silence, scurrying from the room after a particularly harsh glare from Roy had told them they had overstayed their welcome in your office. As your head fell into your hands due to the stress of it all, Roy crossed the room, slipping his fingers into your hair and scratching gently at your scalp. "They're not going to tell anyone, Angel, don't stress."

"But, what-"

"No buts, or what if's, or anything." Roy chastised, pulling your head out of your hands and crouching down to meet you at eye level. He took your hands in his own, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles. "We tell everyone when you're ready. And if that's after the wedding, then that's after the wedding." Roy pressed a kiss to your knuckles. "And that's that."

You let out a long sigh, weight lifted from your shoulders at Roy's gentle touch and soothing words. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

"You've mentioned it once or twice."

~*~

You were too scared to put your outfit on. After almost 10 months of planning every detail and waking up to see your engagement ring on your finger, you were finally getting to be Mrs Kent. And you were too scared to go out there and get dressed.

When Will, Colin and Isaac found out you were pregnant, it was on accident, but going out there, before your man of honour, bridesmaids, Phoebe and Beard to put on your outfit would be intentionally revealing your baby bump. It was so stupid, you thought, to be this worried about something that would make people happy - that would make you and Roy happy. But a small part of you just wanted things to work out how you'd planned then in your head; like being able to wear what you'd picked to marry the love of your life.

However, you wanted to get married to Roy more then you cared about keeping the baby a secret.

Everyone gasped as you walked into the main part of the hotel room. You'd forgone a dressing gown in favour of getting ready in the comfort of pyjama shorts and one of Roy's old jerseys, wanting to have a part of him with you even though you wouldn't see him the night before the wedding.

Roy had actually wanted to forgo the traditional 'no seeing the bride bullshit,' him in favour of spending every second he could get with you, but Keeley and Jamie had convinced him it would make that moment of you walking down the aisle all the more special. Though as you walked into the room, you'd wished more then anything you'd convinced Keeley to let him stay with you. All you wanted was his hand in yours as you did this.

All eyes fell to the shadow of a baby bump that could be seen through the loose material of Roy's jersey; it was the one he wore at his very first Richmond match, Kent printed and worn proudly on the back. No one moved or even dared to breath.

"Surprise?" You didn't mean for it to come out as a question, but the tense silence and feel of everyone's eyes on you had you shying away from your friends and family in a way you'd never done before. "I'm pregnant!"

Molly was the first to move, crossing the length of the room and pulling you into an embrace. "I love you." She whispered against your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "I'm going to be an auntie." Within seconds the remaining people in the room swarmed you into one big group hug. Each of Colin, Keeley, Rebecca and Beard whispered congratulations to you, telling you just how beautiful you looked and how excited they were to see you walk down the aisle. Phoebe, however, pulled the funniest face at you, her brow tense in the spitting image of Roy.

"You're not wearing that, are you?"

Phoebe had magically broke the tension of the room, smiles all around as Molly and Keeley ushered you back to the other side of the door, helping you into your outfit and making sure your hair stayed in the way you'd styled it when you got changed. Fully dressed and feeling yourself, you stepped back into the main room with newfound confidence.

You were going to marry Roy - Roy who updated you on his book every night and valued your opinion on it, who still brought you lunch everyday at work, who was willing to hold you on the bathroom floor at 3am when he should've been sleeping, who made you feel like you were the only person in a room that mattered - and you couldn't be more excited.

Colin held your hand the entire drive from the hotel and the whole way from the car to the church doors. Only two pieces of wood separated you from everything you'd ever wanted. He pressed a featherlight kiss to your cheek and wished you luck before heading inside, leaving just you and Beard outside the building.

"You nervous?" He asked, moving his hand so that it rested lovingly on the small of your back.

"It's Roy." Roy always made you nervous. From the smile that had you weak in the knees when he actually decided to show it, to the butterflies the simple movement of his fingers against your skin caused; Roy had you swooning every time he looked at you. "I can't wait to get in there."

"Can you wait a second?" Ted Lasso was stood behind you, hands bashfully tucked into suit pants pockets.

"Ted." You gasped, opening your arms but not leaving Beard's side. The American rushed towards you, scooping you into a tender hug. "What are you doing here? I thought you couldn't make it..."

"Well, you know how Roy is, stubborn, hard-headed," Ted had aged a little since you last saw him on English soil, but he still held that quintessential ted spirit to him; even though he looked a lot more tired then you ever remembered him being. "Will do anything for the people he loves. Even if that's calling someone everyday for 8 months straight and convincing them to clear their calendar."

Roy who called one of your favourite people daily until he convinced them to make time to come to your wedding despite the fact they'd have to fly halfway across the world to attend.

"Well, I'm glad you're here Ted." He pressed a kiss to your temple, unwrapping himself from you and flattening out the front of his suit.

"I'll see you in there." Ted walked to the doors Colin had entered through moments ago, stopping and turning back to you at the last second. "You look beautiful by the way, you're practically glowing." With a knowing wink, Ted slipped through the doors, finding the way to his seat to wait for the ceremony to begin.

"Well, I think we're really ready now." You mused, linking your arm though Beard's. When you turned to flash a smile at him, you saw eyes filled with fondness, tears threatening to cloud his vision if he thought about the scene before him for too long. "Aren't we Willis?"

"Lets go, sweetheart." The pet name struck you to your core, your hand squeezing his bicep in reassurance. There was no one else you'd want to walk you down the aisle. "You're getting married!"

The ceremony ran perfectly. Willis walked you down the aisle and handed you off to Roy after whispering what you were certain was a threat in his ear. Tears brimmed Roy's waterline the whole ceremony, but they didn't spill over under you were pronounced husband and wife. No one commented on the tears that ran down Roy's cheeks, and you didn't think anyone was ever going to bring it up; a mutual understanding settling over the room that the Roy Kent that stood at the alter wasn't Roy Kent football sensation, but that he was Roy Kent, loving husband.

All those years ago Jamie had been completely and utterly right, all Roy needed was someone to show him it was okay to be soft. Thankfully, he had found that in you.

~*~

"Nell, go back to sleep baby, daddy's here."

Roy had his back turned to you as he rocked Penelope in his arms, murmuring some song that you couldn't quite make out under his breath to help her get back to sleep. In the 4 weeks since Penelope - or 'Nell' as Roy had lovingly started calling her - had been born, Roy had more then proved himself to be the amazing dad you knew he would be. Though he'd voiced his worries about not being a good dad several times throughout your pregnancy, each time you'd soothed away the worry; scratching your fingers against his scalp and reminding him of everything he'd ever done for Phoebe.

Phoebe had been the most excited to meet the baby, begging her mum to let her come over every single day after school so that she could spend time with her newborn cousin (even though that time was mostly spent with Phoebe in your lap with Nell in hers).

The Boys at Nelson Road came in for a close second when it came to being excited to meet the baby. Will, Colin and Isaac had made it their duty to show up to you and Roy's house every day after training when you were 7 months along in order to paint the babies nursery and build all the furniture that you'd bought.

They were even worse when you went into labour.

Roy had called Beard to let him know the two of you wouldn't be able to make it to work that Tuesday, and Beard loaded up the coach for a group trip to Richmond's hospital. You had the whole of AFC Richmond crowded in the waiting room, arms filled with stuffed animals, balloons and flowers. Jamie had charmed up the nurse who you were charged to, convincing him to let all of the players into your room at once. While most of the team fawned over the baby, gave you their best wishes then made their way back to the coach, Colin, Isaac, and Will asked to hold her, tears filling their eyes as they took in the sight of the tiny baby.

"She's beautiful." Colin whispered, lightly running the tip of his finger up and down her button nose. "With your parents, you're going to be the coolest kid ever. And Uncle Colin is going to make sure of it."

"You know," Will whispered, stiff as a board as he held Penelope on his arms, scared to even breath less it hurt the baby. "I remember that day I saw you with Phoebe in Tesco, and I told you I didn't realise you were a mum." Roy shot you a confused glance, reminding you you'd never actually filled him in on your trip to the supermarket that day with Phoebe. "And now you are one. It almost doesn't feel real."

"I've never held a baby before." Isaac admitted, the most relaxed holding her despite his inexperience. "It's weird, innit. Like, this baby I'm holding right now started out nothing and now she's real and alive and in my arms…Spooky."

Jamie, however, you practically had to force to hold Nell; and even then he was scared shitless. When you managed to convince him to take a seat on your hospital bed, he seemed less tense about holding her, but the ever present crease in his brow told you otherwise. "She looks just like you."

"She's got Roy's nose, and I bet she'll have his eyebrows too."

Jamie's eyes never left the baby, even as the other boys slipped out of the room with one last goodbye and a promise to come and visit Nell again when you got sent home.

"Ask us what her full name is." Roy kicked Jamie's foot, finally snapping his attention away from the newborn.

"You what?”

Apparently, he hadn't been listening, the tender tone to Roy's voice leaving as soon as it had arrived. "I said ask us what her full name is, fuckhead."

Jamie didn't ask you, he wasn't sure he could get the words out without choking up, the suggestion of the question springing tears to his eyes.

"Her full name is Penelope Jamie Kent." You hadn't seen Jamie so upset since Roy dragged him into your office, sobs wracking his body, two years ago before the journey up north to play against Manchester City at the Etihad.

He pulled Nell closer to his chest, hugging her as best as you could hold a baby, then passed her to Beard, pulling Roy in for the tightest hug you'd ever seen the two share. When Jamie came to hug you, he pressed a kiss to your cheek, whispering in your ear; "You've made Grandad go all soft." And after a brief pause. "The rest of us too."

Beard didn't stay long after Jamie left, knowing the coach was only waiting on him to return to training. He muttered something under his breath, pressed a kiss to Nell's head and then handed her back to you, pressing a kiss to yours. "Jamie’s right. Spitting image of you. Though I do agree she has Roy's nose."

"I hope she gets his smile." You quietly confessed, not missing the way Roy's lips curled up into the wonderful smile you loved so much. "We got something for you." Roy pulled out a gift bag from next to your 'we need to go to the hospital the baby is coming' bag and handed it to his fellow coach. Beard waisted no time opening the gift, a soft smile curling on his lips as he pulled out the mug, 'worlds best grandad' printed on the front and a Richmond crest printed on the back. "I love you...dad."

A tear silently ran down Beard' cheek but he didn't wipe it away, pulling you and the baby in for a group hug. After a tight squeeze, he opened up his arms, a silent invite for Roy to join. He did so without question, thanking Willis for everything.

Beard had used the mug at Nelson Road everyday since.

Nell had made a total of 3 visits so far to Nelson Road; every Thursday afternoon being the day you'd come to the dog track with her and disrupt afternoon training so that the boys could fawn over her as an end of the week treat. Tomorrow would be her 4th visit, and yet, Roy had been the one to wake up and tend to her when he'd have to be up in a few hours to coach Jamie and you could essentially sleep in until 12 and still be on time.

As he put Nell back inside her cot, you wrapped your arms around his waist and slid them up and under the front of his t-shirt. "You're such a good dad, Roy."

"Only cause you make me a good dad." He turned around in your hold, your hands now up the back of his shirt, his arms now over your shoulders/

"That doesn't even make sense." You countered, resting your chin against his chest so that you could look at him. Roy took the opportunity to press a slow and tender kiss to your lips.

"Fuck off, it totally does."

"Doesn't."

"Does."

"Doesn't."

"Does."

At a whine from Nell, the two of you fell silent, not wanting to wake her after Roy had just put her back to sleep.

"She know it makes sense." The two of your were looking down at Nell's tony from where she slept soundly in the crib.

"She's only agreeing cause it's you." You lowered your chin so that the side of your head rested against Roy's chest, giving you a better look at your beautiful baby girl. "She's a total daddy's girl already, you know."

"Gets that from her mother." Roy paused after he spoke, realising quickly that his words hadn't made much sense or come out in the way he intended. "I meant, she's a total me, girl. Like she loves me a lot because you love me a lot. Fuck."

"I knew what you meant, handsome."

Roy quirked his eyebrow at your response. "You did huh?" He swept you off your feet, literally, carrying you back to your bedroom with a slip in his step.

You hand slapped against his bicep, a gasp slipping from your lips as your pieced together Roy's words paired with his suggestive tone and that glint in his eye. "The doctor said no sex for 6 weeks, Roy."

"No penetrative sex for six weeks." Roy clarified, laying you down on the mused bedsheets and kissing his way down your form; starting with scrapes of teeth against the sensitive skin of your neck, all the way down to the thick skin of your thighs. "The guy said nothing about oral."

an : thanks for reading this far *mwah* I love you <33 I hope you enjoyed this!!! Please feel free to send in a request for Roy or Jamie I'd love to write it!!!

#roy kent imagine #roy kent x reader #roy kent one shot #ted lasso x reader

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cheolhub · 1 year

Text

YOU GET ME SO HIGH — VERNON CHWE ࿐

summary. smoking with your best friend (who you totally don’t have a crush on) is super fun till all you can think about is him… well, doing him, to be more specific.

wc. 6.2k

warnings. recreational marijuana use!!, dubcon (kinda? sex while high), bf2l + idiots to lovers, kinda fluffy!! weed is referred to as ‘green crack’ several times lol, fingering, hehe big d!ck!vernon, mentions of masturbation, unprotected sex, pet names (baby), brief tit worship, naked confessions, vernon is kinda shy, jealous, nervous & rlly likes boobs and reader is v needy lol <3— MINORS DNI 18+

note. havent seen anyone write for vernon in like 3 years so here’s my lowkey cringey, poorly-written, self-indulgent fic that i was supposed to post for his birthday 2 months ago ++ guest appearance from weed dealer!cheol bc yeah :3

if you had told vernon that his best friend was someone he’d met in a biology lab–one that he was accidentally put into his freshmen year– he’d say you were a liar. nonetheless, it’s true– you’re his best friend and you have been for years now. in your fourth and final year of university, you still sit on the balcony of your apartment with him like you have every other day for the past three.

“happy birthday, vernon,” you smile cheekily, passing him a snack-size ziplock baggie. “i got you an eighth since you’re always begging to smoke my shit.”

he laughs and gives you a lazy smile, “Y/N, my birthday was over two months ago… plus, you know you didn’t have to get me anything.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes, “hansol vernon chwe, you are my best friend, of course i had to. and… i was waiting for a few of my checks to hit, that's why it’s a belated birthday gift.” you take his hand, placing the bag into it. “now take it and don’t smoke it all in a day, got it?”

he nods, eyes softening, “thank you,” he says. “must’ve cost your broke ass a fortune, though, so next time– don’t get me anything.”

you giggle at the joke that’s actually, not really a joke. “i really don’t think you have any room to speak– who here has a real job?”

he rolls his eyes, “my job is real, thank you very much.”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “reselling limited edition vinyls for seven times what you bought them for isn’t a job, vernon, that’s called being a dick.” you tell him. “and actually, the prices weren’t too bad. cheol gave me a discount.”

vernon almost visibly clenches at the name of your awfully-sweet dealer. though he can attest, cheol is only ever sweet to you. every time he’s bought from your favorite supplier, he’s been a total asshole and upcharges him for no reason which is one of the basis’ why he’s always smoking your stuff. you always tell him it’s karma for selling records at such a high price, but vernon begs to differ. he knows that cheol just doesn’t like him and he has a gut feeling that it’s because of you.

“oh yeah? how’d you get him to do that?” he asks, but he’s pretty sure he knows the answer. the answer being cheol has a thing for you.

you bite your lip, looking over your apartment balcony. “mmm, he showed up here while i was… you know…playing around…and…”

vernon knows you well enough to finish your sentence for you. “masturbating?”

“vernon, be modest!” you whine, hiding your face in your hands. “you knew, you didn’t have to say it!”

he chuckles, “it’s normal, Y/N, we all do it. no need to be embarrassed over it.”

it’s true. everyone does it. but not everyone masturbates thinking about their best friend. he thinks that might just be him.

“yeah, but you’ve probably never done it thinking you’d be finished before your hot drug dealer shows up at your apartment.” you blush. vernon doesn’t say anything for a while and you’re afraid you’ve made him feel uncomfortable (even though he claims you never have). you bite the insides of your cheeks before uttering, “can you pack a joint or something?”

truthfully, vernon doesn’t mean to be so quiet. he’s just trying to imagine you in that state without letting his dick get hard, though it’s proving to be extremely difficult. you probably looked so pretty in cute short shorts and a shirt that you could see your nipples through. or worse, you were wearing a tank top that was snuggly wrapped around your torso where you could see everything. he wants to be a gentleman, wants to be respectful… but, god, your tits are out of this world.

he hums trying to rid the dirty images in his head, taking your box of goods to grab the grinder and paper cones. “finish your story.” he urges.

you look at him, searching for signs of discomfort, but there is only that stoic look he always wore. with a sigh, you continue, “anyway, i was… you know… and he texted me and said he was here– i was a mess–”

he can imagine.

“–and i think he could tell ‘cuz when i got down to his car i was so disheveled and was about to start crying. i literally looked like i got edged or something,” you mumble, twiddling your thumbs out of embarrassment.

you’re painting a picture for vernon and he has to bite back a groan.

it’s not the first time you and vernon had talked about sexual things. there had been several conversations on the topic. he knew almost everything about you except for… you know… what you tasted like and how tight you are– his vivid imagination couldn’t give him all of those pleasures.

“and, vernon, i kid you not, he literally knew. he was all smug and shit,” you groan. “it was kinda humiliating.”

you remember how much wetter you’d gotten the moment you slipped into his car. he was calling you all types of things– all types of pretty pet names–and you’re genuinely surprised it didn’t escalate further because the sexual tension was heavy.

“and then i told him i wanted a quarter– an eighth for me and an eighth for you– and he told me he’d give me a special strain of sativa for half the normal price.”

vernon’s eyes widened, “half the price?”

“that’s what i said!” you exclaim. “pretty sure it’s because he could see my tits… i wasn’t wearing the best outfit …”

of-fucking-course he could see your tits. vernon holds back a groan, seeing as his suspicions about you in a tank top that night was right. instead, he chuckles airly. “now who needs to be modest.”

“stooop, just grind the weed.” you cry.

vernon does as you ask, muttering, “maybe he laced it.”

“cheol wouldn’t, i’m pretty sure he just likes me.” you humbly reply, shooting daggers at your best friend for even suggesting that. “plus the strain was called ‘green crack’ or something like that… it was from the ‘st. patty’s day special.’”

“saint patrick’s day was like 4 weeks ago.”

“well then he was either trying to get rid of it or my tits must’ve made him feel generous.” you joke, giggling a bit at vernon’s poker face.

vernon is hiding it really well, but he’s filled with so much annoyance. your stupid dealer doesn’t deserve to see you like that. hell, vernon doesn’t even think he deserves to see you like that, but, fuck, he wants to. so badly. seeing you all hot and bothered with your tits on full display would be a dream come true.

“would you fuck him for free weed?” he asks all of a sudden, making you blush furiously. he knows now that he doesn’t want to hear your answer when your mouth parts in shock.

“vernon! what kinda girl do you take me for?” you put your hand over your chest as if it’s something you wouldn’t do. you break your facade when he gives you a knowing look, mouth cracking into a grin. “probably, i dunno. he’s kinda scary but i feel like he knows how to please a woman– i can’t say the same about a lot of other men.”

he internally rolls his eyes. cheol doesn’t know you the way he does. vernon could please you, he knows he can.

he switches the subject back to the packed joint in his hands to keep from spiraling. “wanna spark it?”

you shake your head with a hum, “mmh-mmh, belated birthday boy gets the first few hits.”

he smiles, pulling the joint to his lips taking the lighter, igniting it with the pressure of his thumb. he lets the flame burn carefully through the paper, inhaling a large rush of smoke. he holds it in for a bit before he blows it out– away from your face– creating a white, potent-smelling cloud.

you reminisce while watching him. your balcony is like home to you and vernon. contrary to your neighbor's beliefs, smoking isn’t the only thing you do. you laugh and cry and talk for hours about people you hate and people you love. sometimes, you’ll do homework out here and when vernon is bored at his own place, he’ll come over to yours to keep you company. he provides a comforting presence and never-ending encouragement while reminding you to take breaks.

it’s where you told him about your puppy crush on soonyoung from your statistics class and it’s where he told you about how he awkwardly lost his virginity to a girl during orientation week. it’s where the two of you are always together– it’s kinda like your place.

and watching him after all these years, you’ve never really realized how attractive your best friend was. well, that’s a lie. you’ve always thought vernon was likely one of the prettiest men to ever walk the earth, but if you truly admitted that, then you’d have to admit to the other things. things like how kind and considerate he is and how he’s boyfriend potential and how you totally don’t have any type of feelings for him whatsoever. it’s not a crush, you constantly have to remind yourself, it’s admiration for your best friend. there’s a difference.

but those admirable traits are things you can’t think about because he doesn’t see you that way. there’s no reason why you should see him that way if it’s not reciprocated. it only makes sense and prevents brutal rejection from the most perfect man on earth, aka your best friend.

but your not-crush manifests itself sometimes. like when he smiles at you or when he randomly places his headphones over your head and tells you to “listen to this song” or when he spends the night in your bed because he’s too lazy to drive home. it gets harder and harder to hide every day.

he passes the joint to you with an even lazier grin and you take it, parroting his actions. you let the smoke fill your lungs, hold it there, and exhale, shutting your eyes just as he did.

and vernon thinks you look like a goddess. how could you make a simple action seem so attractive?

you take your hits, passing the joint back and forth till it suddenly hits you. all at once, you feel your body start to ache, your tummy flipping in anticipation, your mind fogging over leaving your entirety to buzz. you shift a bit and you feel your cunt dampen causing you to let out a sharp exhale.

“you good?” vernon asks, his deep voice filling your ears.

then you look at him. like… actually look at him. his face is a bit tired, his eyes red from the weed coursing his system, and his hair a bit disheveled from running his hand through it too much (this is why he wears the beanies)-- nevertheless, he looks fucking fantastic.

your usual munchies are replaced with strong, burning sexual desire. just at the sight of your best friend, your pussy is soaking through your panties and your shorts.

“‘sol,” you murmur out the nickname. “do you feel… different?” you ask, eyes fluttering and lips parting.

you’re truly unaware of how seductive you look and how it’s slowly taking years off his life. vernon has been rock hard in his sweats for a solid 15 minutes now. and, yes, he feels extremely different. turned on to say the very least.

“mmm, a little,” more like a lot. “maybe it’s the strain you got,” he mumbles, implying what he had said earlier was true.

it makes sense that cheol provided you with a strain that feels like you’re smoking a fucking aphrodisiac, but you’re starting to wish you were alone so you could at least do something about it.

for a split second, you think you might be fine, then you’re hit with yet another wave of arousal, your core pulsing at the ideas that are incessantly popping into your head. ideas of him taking you right now, sitting on his face, sinking onto his cock– it’s too much.

“vernon,” you say breathily and he freezes, pulling the joint away from his lips. “i… i think…”

you try to think about how to kick him out kindly so you can have some much-needed alone time, but you can’t– you can only think about having alone time with him. alone time that leads to shoving his hand down your pants.

stop, you tell your hazy brain.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asks, scooting closer to you.

his scent floods your senses– a mix of weed and his cologne causing sensory overload in your poor brain and aching core.

he’s internally worried that you’re greening out. though it doesn’t happen as much as it did when you first started smoking, there are rare occasions when you take more than you can handle.

“c-can… you do me a favor?”

“‘course, anything.”

“vernon… it… i…need your help.” you whimper, leaning into him. “please…feels like ‘m gonna die.”

you’re being dramatic.

he furrows his brows in confusion, panic becoming apparent on his features. “what hurts, Y/N? how can i help you?”

you take his hand in yours, slowly guiding him to the ache in your body. you gasp when his warm fingers come in contact with your clothed cunt. “here… it hurts here.” you exhale.

vernon has definitely lost it. his hand is between your thighs and your smaller one has moved to tightly wrap around his wrist. you’re a mess– he can feel it. he can feel the warmth radiating from your core, he can feel how you’ve soaked through your panties and how it’s seeped through the thin pair of shorts. he’s holding his breath and he fears he may pass out before getting a chance to touch you like you deserve.

“y-you’re not in your right mind, Y/N,” he whispers, afraid his voice may betray him. “you smoked too–”

“uh-uh, it’s okay– vernon, it’s okay, i want you… please,” you whimper, grip around his wrist tightening as you buck your hips slightly for more friction.

you want him. you… want him.

“but–”

you’re growing frustrated, “if you won’t… then i-i think you should go ‘cuz i need… i need to be alone.”

vernon takes this as an implication that you need to fuck yourself if he won’t fuck you and he’ll be damned if he’s not the one making you see stars.

so, he asks one more time, “Y/N… are you sure?”

“yes… yes, ‘m sure. ‘m so sure, please, ‘sol,” you beg, using the nickname that makes him fold every time.

he doesn’t hold back, putting out the joint in his hand and leaving it in the ashtray. his now-free hand cups your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. you moan, eagerly allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth as your hands needily fist at his shirt.

despite having smoked, vernon’s lips are soft. softer than the lips of men you’ve kissed before. and he still tastes good even with the pungent lemony flavor lingering on his tongue– overwhelmingly good. it seems that he’s just as eager and turned on as you are, too, nearly devouring you whole. you can’t help but fall in love with the heated, now-sloppy kiss.

and vernon truly feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. he’s not sure if this is even real or if the weed has him hallucinating… it wouldn’t be the first time, but you biting down on his bottom lip has him coming back to earth and lets him know that you’re real. that you are very much real and very much grinding on his fingers desperately.

“vernon,” you pant, pulling him closer by the shirt in your grip. “please, more— feels good, but i need more.” your hazy eyes look into his and you see how they’ve darkened.

“fuck, Y/N,” he groans and his voice has you clenching around nothing. “we need to go inside…”

you’re both sure that this might ruin your relationship, but you decide it’ll be a problem for tomorrow. right now, all either of you can think about is getting off on each other.

that’s why you’re quick to stand on your feet, holding out your hand for him to take. when he stands, grunting, you pull him into your apartment and leave all of your goods on the balcony without a second thought.

you drag him to your room before attacking him with another kiss and pulling at the ends of his shirt. you’re a bit disoriented, swaying and stumbling over your steps, but when your legs hit the bed and you nearly fall, vernon’s quick to catch you by the waist.

“careful,” he murmurs, gently laying you on the plush mattress. you scoot to the head of the bed, laying on your back as you wait for him.

he takes your expectant face as a sign to remove his clothing and he does so quickly, knowing how impatient you are at this very moment. his shirt comes off and then his sweats, leaving him in boxers where his bulge becomes… apparent.

you have to hold your breath at the dizzying sight of his naked torso and the massive tent in his underwear.

you make grabby hands at him, urging him to come take care of you on the bed. he obliges, getting on your bed, hovering over you while his own head spins. he’s truly unsure if this is actually his real life or if he’s having a dream sent from the gods above.

he decides not to wait any longer, taking control of the situation by placing his lips on your heated neck. his lips trail down, leaving sloppy, wet kisses on your skin, reveling in how you desperately whimper for him though he’s barely doing anything.

his hands reach for the hem of your loose top– one that might actually be his– pushing it up and tugging it over your head and arms, leaving your chest bare before him. he groans before diving to your tits, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, sucking and tugging at the bud hungrily.

you gasp at the sight. you’ve never seen vernon so eager to do anything in the time you’ve known him and now he’s making out with your tits as if it were his last day on earth.

that’s hot, you think to yourself. so hot– you’re so fucking hot right now.

you can’t see it, but you feel his hand come down to your sleep shorts, digging in past the elastic band of both the satin fabric and your cotton undies. his fingers dip into your lips, running them through your soaked folds.

“you’re so wet.” he hisses.

you whine at the contact, apologizing softly, “‘m sorry– can’t help it.”

his fingers find your hole, circling it before easing two of them inside. “don’t apologize, baby. it’s really hot.” he whispers, the pet name slipping past his lips without completely registering.

you clench and moan at the domestic name. “fuck, ‘sol,” you whimper. “a-again… call me that again…”

his face burns, whispering out, “you like when i call you ‘baby?’”

knowing vernon, it was meant to sound like a genuine question, but being in the state you’re in, it sounds so seductive… so enticing that it has your back arching. you nod your head, an even darker blush falling over your already-red cheeks.

you let out a clipped, “yes.” and he just moans, thrusting his fingers in and out faster, digits stretching your tight, gummy walls out to prepare you for his cock.

he wonders how you could be so tight because, holy fuck, you’re squeezing around his fingers like you’re trying to trap them in there.

you whine softly, “vernon, please give me more…”

he definitely just fucking died.

his cock twitches uncontrollably in his boxers, begging to be set free, but he decides to give you another finger instead. vernon knows he’s… a bit on the bigger side, and judging by how you feel right now, there’s absolutely no way he’ll easily fit inside of you. the last thing he wants to do is hurt you.

so he slowly pulls his hand out of your shorts and helps you out of them. he throws them to the side and has you spread open. he huffs at the sight before taking three of his fingers back to your hole. he pushes them in gently, groaning at the tighter fit. your moans are bouncing off the walls and vernon looks up to see your mouth hung open with your head thrown back against your pillow.

he checks on you, throat dry at the sound, sight, and feeling of you. “i-is… are you doing okay?” and when you just whine, he bites the inside of his cheek anxiously. he remembers your fondness for the pet names from a few minutes prior, so he tries again. “baby… does it feel good?”

and he’s not sure what to expect, but when your body jolts and your hand's fist at the sheets, you get even tighter, clenching around his fingers desperately. you really do have an affinity for being called ‘baby.’

your brain is jumbled, intoxicated from the weed and his fat fingers stretching your cunt open. “‘m okay… f-feels so good.” you tell him breathily with a whine bubbling in the back of your throat at the feeling of his fingers pushing further into you. “fuck, vernon– it’s so good.”

and it’s true, you don’t think you’ve ever experienced pleasure this intense before, but you remember your senses are heightened by 10 because of the drug. that ‘green crack’ is insane.

he moans at the confirmation, curling his fingers up and fucking your messy cunt, the palm of his hand bumping against your clit with every thrust. he feels a rush of your honeyed arousal soaking his fingers and he swears he might cum before he can even get his cock in you.

you gasp loudly when you feel his pace quicken, eyes squeezing shut. an array of mewls and high-pitched whines shamelessly slip past your lips. “oh! fuck, i’m close, i’m so close, vernon.” you warn, wet walls clamping around his curled fingers.

he exhales sharply, voice low when he urges you, “cum for me, baby.”

his voice and harsh thrusts are more than enough to throw you over the edge, stomach knots unraveling. you gush all over his big fingers, pussy pulsing as it’s doing its best to push his digits out, but he continues his ministrations to work you through your blinding orgasm.

feeling you cum may have been the best thing life has offered him.

“fuck, that’s it– are you okay? did that feel good?” he asks breathily, pulling out his fingers, a string of arousal connected to your hole following them out. he bites his lip at the sight, keeping a moan bottled up. he wants to taste you so bad… and the cum on his fingers taunt him.

you nod your head, still panting, “w-was so good, y-you’re really good… don’t usually cum that fast…”

“really?”

you shake your head, “t-told you that guys don’t really know what they’re doing most of the time.”

he shakes his head in disapproval, “well… you deserve the best.”

“... like you?” your heart races and the weed from earlier still lingers like a cloud over your brain. you look at him, the soft light from the moon illuminating his flawless skin. your eyes trail down his torso, eyes landing on the big bulge in his boxers again.

he chokes, masking the sound with a nervous chuckle, “me? i-i’m not…no.” your eyes widen, realizing you’ve completely misread him, feeling panic flood your body. you quickly shut your legs, arms coming to cover your bare chest.

he’s quick to notice that you’re starting to spiral, though, so he re-registers what you said and then what he said and his eyes widen, too. his words come out rushed as he attempts to do damage control. “no! not no, as in i don’t see you in that way, but no because you deserve the best and…”

“but… you are the best, ‘sol…” you tell him softly, hugging yourself tighter. “and before you say anything, the weed is wearing off– think you finger-fucked it out of me,” you joke to lighten the mood, but when you see he’s still frozen, you internally cringe at yourself, continuing. “i’m being serious. i’m in my right mind and i’m telling you that you’re the best because you are. you always have been.”

he shudders nervously, “Y/N… don’t.”

you frown at him, turning your head away to look at your window instead, mentally face-palming yourself. “did i make it awkward again?” you ask nervously. you don’t even wait for his response, continuing your anxious ramble. “can you just forget i said anything? and that i made you do this? i…i don’t wanna lose you– i never want to lose you.” you whisper. “you’re my best friend.”

he shakes his head incessantly as if he’s trying to tell you something with the simple action, but you aren’t even looking at him, so he takes a deep, shaky breath. “no, you didn’t make me do anything. i just mean don’t say things like that if you don’t really like me because i…” he trails off and you turn back to look at him, concerned by his sudden halt. “Y/N, i… like you. so much. i have for forever now, but you were always talking about soonyoung or cheol and then there was that whole thing with that pretentious art kid– minghao, i think– i dunno.”

what!?

you look at him incredulously, eyes wide and lips parted in genuine shock, “why didn’t you tell me…?”

he sighed, hands coming to rest on your thighs. “it seemed like i never really had a chance… you’re my best friend, too… and i didn’t want to lose you either.”

you sit up, exclaiming, “but you’ve liked me this entire time and i didn’t even know?!”

he gives you a small grin and a shrug, “what can i say? i’m discreet.”

you scoff, sitting in silence for a few seconds before opening your mouth again. with your voice meek, you say.“i wish you would’ve told me.” you inhale sharply, continuing to hug yourself tightly. “i like you, too, you know… i just didn’t think you liked me back so i tried to not like you– which is really hard, by the way, because you’re annoyingly pretty.”

“sorry, i’ll try to stop being so pretty.”

you playfully slap his bare chest, “i actually hate you so much.”

he jokingly sulks, placing a hand over where you hit him. “aw, baby, you just said you liked me.”

you shudder, body naturally leaning into him as your mind gravitates back to your not-so-innocent thoughts. “i do… and i’d like you a little more if you kept calling me that.”

his breath hitches as you get closer and closer, “yeah?”

“mhm…”

he whispers against your lips, a cheeky smile on his, “you’re such a baby.”

“you’re so mean,” you hum, letting your lips graze his. “am i not your baby?”

he rests his forehead against yours and looks into your eyes for any sign of playfulness. you seem to be serious so he asks, “is that what you want?” he’s nervous you can hear the way his heart is about to pound out of his chest.

“duh… idiot.”

“okay, cool.” he says nonchalantly even though he’s internally freaking out. “you’re my baby.”

your heart skips a beat and your cunt dampens again at the title, “okay, cool.” you parrot casually as if your heart wasn’t about to lurch out of your chest. “you can… kiss me. if you want…”

vernon utters a soft ‘right’ before finally closing the gap between the two of you. his lips mold to yours and you know for a fact that there is no one else on earth you’d want to kiss. his big hand comes to cup your cheek and you melt under the touch, mouth opening for him to slip his tongue into.

naturally, the kiss heats up and before long, you’re whining into his mouth, hand blindly reaching for his clothed cock. he groans the second you find the aching hard-on, nimble hands stroking him through his boxers.

“Y/N,” he pants breathily in between kisses. “are you… sure you wanna… do this?”

you think it’s sweet that he keeps checking on you, and sure, you’re still a bit fuzzy from the after-effects of the ‘green crack’, but you need him to give you what you want. so you nod, breaking from the kiss to lay back in your original position under him.

“please fuck me, baby,” you beg in the most sultry voice you can conjure up. when he stays frozen, you pout. “hansol, please.”

he curses, quickly getting his boxers off and revealing the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen. precum beads at the slit of his flushed tip and prominent veins run through the length. he’s so big, surely enough to have you see stars. you’re starting to feel grateful that he prepped you because his dick would have completely ruined you without it.

“‘s big.” you simply state, bottom lip finding sanctum in between your teeth as you gawk at it.

“you think so?” he gives you a wobbly smile, stomach-churning at the subtle praise. he moves in between your thighs and spreads you out for him. “is it okay?”

you blush, nodding your head, “mhm, don’t worry,” you tell him. “i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”

he nods, huffing softly, “do you have any condoms?”

you chuckle breathily. “not for your size… but it’s okay, i’m clean and safe. you don’t need one. you can pull out if it makes you feel better.”

his throat runs dry– fuck, fuck, fuck. he’s fucking you raw?! how the hell is he supposed to last hitting it raw?! you were already tight around three of his fingers and he can’t even imagine how you’d feel wrapped around his cock.

he realizes he hasn’t replied in a few seconds when you say his name softly. he sees you growing restless under him and he apologizes and nods again dumbly.

he runs his tip through your folds, moaning when he finds you’re just as wet as you were earlier. he aligns himself with your leaky hole, slowly pushing himself inside of you with a groan to find that you’re still so fucking tight.

you’ve found that, despite vernon’s laid-back and chill personality, he’s quite loud in bed. he’s nothing like you expected and you’re pleasantly surprised.

when his cock slides in between your tight walls, the both of you are instantly a mess, panting and moaning in pleasure. your walls envelop him so snugly that you fear the thick veins that adorn his length will imprint into them.

“fuck, vernon.” you moan, praying the burn in your pussy melts to pleasure soon so he can fuck you the way you want it. the way you need it. . “your cock.”

he hisses, pushing in past the resistance. “you feel so good, baby, oh my god.” he grunts, head falling back at the way you hug him. “god, i’ve wanted this for so long– wanted you for so long.”

you cry, clenching around his girth because, god, you’ve wanted him, too.

when he finally bottoms out, you both pause to take erratic breaths, positively going feral over each other. he attempts to recollect himself and check up on you again. “are you–”

you don’t even let him finish, nodding your head vigorously. “yes, vernon, just need you to move, please.” you plead. “need you to fuck me– please, need it so fucking bad.”

you’re so needy for him and he knows it’s because of the last bit of weed that looms, but he can’t help but wonder if you’re like this on a normal day. if you’re always begging for a cock to fill you up. not that it would matter– he’d do anything you asked of him. you’re so fucking pretty to him and his brain is constantly yelling at him to cater to every single one of your wishes. the chokehold you have him in is so tight.

tight like your pretty cunt that’s now gracefully swallowing his cock with every thrust of his hips. your room is full of panting, moans, and the lewd squelch of your wet pussy taking him. it sounds better than any song he’s ever heard and, if he’s being completely transparent, he hopes to experience this for the rest of his life.

vernon unexpectedly comes down, craning his neck to latch his mouth around your nipples again, stimulating you there, too. you’re sure the position is a bit straining, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he moans loudly into your chest. his hand plays with the other nipple, switching every minute to give both of them love and attention all while his cock steadily rams in and out of you.

your hands tangle in his hair, smothering his face into your tits while he moans and whines some more into them.

and when he adjusts slightly and his tip hits that spot, the one that makes you crumble in seconds, a sob wracks through your entire body.

“there! shit, baby, right there, please.” you gasp, back arching into him.

vernon asks breathily, removing his face from the comfortable spot on your chest, “there? that’s it?”

and you nod, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as you feel the pressure build-up at the bottom of your tummy. he continues to hit the spongy spot inside of you, bringing you closer and closer.

his own face is pinched and he can’t stop the soft whines that come out of his mouth. you just feel fucking amazing.

“a-are you close? i’m not gonna last long.” he pants out.

and you weakly sob out a reply of ‘yes,’ hand moving to toy with your swollen clit. the action immediately has the tightrope inside of you coming undone for the second time in the night. you mewl out his name, clamping around him tightly and coating his cock in slick cum.

it’s like a chain reaction that has vernon cursing and pulling his dick out of you. he eagerly fists at his cock, jerking himself off till he releases all over your puffy pussy. he’s moaning softly, prettily calling out your name. his heart pounds rapidly and his entire body twitches at the feeling of release.

his eyes finally open after a few seconds of trying to regulate his breathing. he sees the way your cunt is dressed in white and how you're slowly, but surely, coming down from both of your highs.

“hey,” he whispers.

“hi,” you mumble, eyes fluttering open. your hands reach for him and he can’t help but find you so cute. “c’mere.”

he smiles, leaning down to kiss you again. unlike your past few kisses, it’s soft and innocent. loving. he parts after a minute or so, hand moving to sweep the hair out of your face.

“are you sure you’re alright?” he whispers. “i feel kinda bad…”

“don’t, ‘sol, i wanted it. i’m really happy.” you tell him sincerely. “are you alright?”

he sighs, “i’m really happy, too… i just wish i would’ve taken you out on a date or something before… fucking you.”

you shake your head, “we did it kinda backwards, but, seriously, i’m just happy you’re here… happy that you’re mine.” he blushes, moving to hide his face in your neck while you giggle. “if you wanna, we can go on a date now?”

“where?” he mumbles into your neck.

“7/11– channie’s working so that means free big gulps and rollers… you know, since some of us can’t afford to eat real food because of their ‘job.’”

vernon scoffs, pulling his face out of your neck and giving you a stern look. “dude, it’s a real job–”

you laugh, effectively cutting him off. “okay, scammer– if it’s a real job, why are you always stealing my fucking weed instead of buying your own?”

“because weed is scarce these days and your bitch ass dealer hates me– why should i have to pay $20 for a gram when you only pay $5?” he nearly cries. “and, since we’re on the topic, i don’t like him. he’s too friendly with you.” that’s code for “he obviously wants to fuck you.”

“you’re jealous of cheol!”

he groans, rolling his eyes, a tiny pout appearing on his face, “so what if i am?”

you coo, “aw, baby,” hand coming to cup his blushy cheek. “you don’t have to worry about him,” you relay to him, voice laced with sincerity. “you’re the only one i want.”

he goes a little bug-eyed at your words before clearing his throat and nodding. “good. that’s good.”

you raise an eyebrow, “just good?”

“no… it’s great…” he mumbles cutely. “you’re also the only one i want.”

#vernon smut #hansol smut #vernon x reader #svt smut #seventeen smut

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natsglorifiedsimp · 4 months

Text

Something Changed

A/N: Hello!! New fic for everybody. Angst this time cause I haven't written one in ages!! Hope you enjoy!! This is inspired by the TikTok videos I've been watching that make me bawl my fucking eyes. I forgot the titles but you guys probably know what i mean.

They would say Y/n and Natasha were very close. Everything they do involves banters and evil laughter from just watching a cat falling off a desk. They've even mistaken you guys were dating.

Natasha and Y/n were very close. They sometimes say sentences and thoughts in unison and it is resulted in another laughter that would be heard from a mile away. One wouldn't go without the other.

But all of it changed.

Natasha once shared with you she had a crush. Of course, you begged her to tell you because you were best friends. You begged and even tried to exaggerate your "please" just to make her give in.

And she did.

She told you it was Wanda. Wanda is her current friend in that one class you're not in. And she told you all about the good things about her. And of course, being her friend you teased her about it and supported her with every decision she wanted to make to get Wanda to date her.

After all, you knew she would do the same for you.

But something changed.

"Hey, Nat!" you called upon her. Natasha turned to see who called and with her was Wanda walking hand in hand. You gave her a knowing smirk.

Natasha only rolled her eyes, "What's up?" she asked.

"Do you have plans this afternoon? I was wondering if you could help me with my Maths" you asked showing her your Math notebook.

"Can't" she shrugged. "Have plans with Wanda,"

"Oh, uhm okay" you pondered. "How about tonight?" you asked once again. "I really need to get this done," you pleaded.

"Still can't Y/n, I'm sorry. Maybe Tony can help you" she gave you another knowing smirk to say she and Wanda would be hanging out all night and you gave her a smirk back.

"Yeah, alright! Have fun!" you enunciated the word 'fun' just to tease her. There's always next time you thought.

---

The next day you didn't see Natasha at school and she didn't join you for lunch. So you decided to hang out with Maria's circle of friends for a while just to past the time.

"Hey, your girlfriend not around?" Maria smirked.

You nudged her in the elbow enough just to give her a wince. "First of all, she's not my girlfriend." you booped her nose. "And second of all, I have an eye on someone." you looked her right in the eye. "And lastly, Natasha's dating Wanda so stop spreading those rumors around or you and Natasha will have a fistfight."

"Oh please, I would win anyway" she smugly said.

"Oh, I bet you would," you smirked.

---

It has been one week since you and Natasha talked or even hung out. You have been letting her give her moment with Wanda so they could have the best moments of dating. And as a supportive friend you gave her that.

But right now it was one of those nights again where you can't sleep and anxiety is ridden in your body. You felt nauseous and everything felt so heavy. You didn't want to cry cause you knew you wouldn't stop if you did. So you texted Natasha for a distraction. She always knew what to do.

Y/n

"Hey, Nat?"

"Are you busy?"

Bossy Natalia

"Yeah, I'm at Wanda's"

"What's up?"

Y/n

"Do you mind if we talk just for a minute or two?"

"I could really use a distraction"

Bossy Natalia

"I'm sorry, I'm quite busy Y/n"

"Could it wait tomorrow?"

Y/n

"Uhm, yeah sure"

"Sorry for bothering"

Seen

You were shaking at this point. You were upset and disappointed but it didn't matter. Natasha isn't always available for you, you thought. So instead you cried. You cried your heart out even if your head was aching, your body was tired, and your mind was swirling with thoughts that Natasha doesn't consider you as your friend anymore.

You cried until you fell asleep.

---

The next day, you looked awful. Your eyes were tired and swollen. You didn't have the energy to get up and do your daily routine but you did it anyway. You went to school like nothing happened.

In the first period, Natasha was in her seat already. You perked up in hopes of catching up with her about her girlfriend and your life also. You wanted to know the details, wanted to share to her about an encounter you had with a kid the other day where she randomly flipped you off. Anything really you wanted to share anything that was funny, useless or completely random.

"Hey, Nat!" you waved. She waved back whilst on her phone. "Who you texting?" you asked.

"Wanda."

"You won't believe what happened the other day," you said, smiling at the memory.

"Uh yeah, hang on a second," she said, texting really fast and smiling at her phone.

You frowned, "Nevermind," you awkwardky chuckled. "It's not important."

---

Everything changed since she dated Wanda. It's like you never existed. The things you guys used to do are now what Natasha and Wanda do. You tried reaching out to her, saying hi when you had the opportunity, asking her to hang out with you or have a couple of chats between friends but nothing. It's either she was busy or with Wanda.

It hurt.

But you paid no mind to it. You let her be. Because you're supportive. Even if it was your lowest you didn't bother to ask her or to rant to her about what you're feeling. You stopped sharing your problems, your meaningless rants. Because you knew Wanda was probably doing that already.

You felt like your role as her best friend had stopped. It expired.

And what hurt more was that she promised. You both promised. You promised each other that even when you guys were already dating you wouldn't forget about each other. That it was "Bros before hoes"

So you stopped. You stopped trying. You stopped communicating with her. And just let her be.

Your parents are planning to move to Los Angeles and their planning to get you to transfer to a new school there. New people, new environment. You would've argued with them about it but what's the point? You don't have anything to lose here in New York.

Natasha is happy now and that's all you needed.

---

Bossy Natalia

"Y/n!!"

"Why didn't you tell me you were moving?"

"Hello???"

"Y/n?"

Part 2

#natasha marvel #natasha romonova #black widow #natasha romanov #natasha x you #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natahsa romanoff #natasha alianovna romanova #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x y/n #black widow x female reader #black widow x reader #black widow x you

788 notes · View notes

jeongheart · 7 months

Text

super shy

summary: he's been receiving these letters for the past year but, he doesn't know your name, does he?

w.c: 7.1k.

tags: friends to lovers, fluff, slice of life.

a.n: this is the longest fic i ever written omg, i've been playing new jeans latest comeback for a few days and this is the result lol. as always, english is not my first language so sorry in advance for any mistakes. leave your thoughts if you liked it, means a lot!

It was there again.

Sitting immaculately on top of his messy folders, the envelope was white without any type of decoration, the owner of the cursive handwriting wouldn't even risk placing a sticker since it could give a clue, even minimal, about who was behind it.

The classroom was almost empty, since recess ended a few minutes ago and the students were still lazily getting up from the grass where they were lying, not wanting to lock themselves in a room again for hours while the day was shining beautifully outside the building.

However, Chan looked around him, narrowing his eyes as he scanned his classmates for the smallest trace of uneasiness as he took the envelope in his hands. But he didn't find any, unless the author had a master's degree in poker face no one around him seemed interested in what he was doing.

After the failed scrutiny, he sat down again with no care on the wooden bench, eager to read what that person had to say today. This excited feeling was new for him, the letters had been arriving about a year ago, right at the beginning of the new semester and at first, Chan found it funny. Surely one of his friends (he bet his life on either Seungmin or Minho, those two were always up to something no matter how much they said they weren't) found it fun to piss him off this year, after all, it has been a long time since his last relationship and sometimes he felt the need of affection, so the "joke" made perfect sense in his head.

He didn't read them the first few months, he just crumpled them up and kept them in a hidden place in his backpack, to let whoever was behind them know that he wasn't interested. But they kept coming even after that vile act against someone's real feelings; and that was when Chan began to question if there really was a person genuinely interested in him, interested enough to send him handwritten letters as if they were living in a classic romance novel. The person had a beautiful vocabulary, and it was clear that they paid attention to details that he didn't even noticed about himself.

The notes weren't very long since they didn't exceed ten lines, but each word was full of admiration and affection. They always reminded him to eat and take care of his health, in addition to telling him day by day one of the qualities why his mysterious person had fallen in love with him. Chan blushed every time he read those reasons, it was no secret (to himself, since he didn't like others to know) that he didn't think very highly of himself; from his point of view there was nothing nice or admirable about his existence. But this person believed just the opposite, and they had made their life's mission to let him know that every day.

Today was no exception, the lined sheets were a pastel color (pink? orange?) and had small animal decorations at the bottom and top (he noticed that these came in "groups", the representative animal of these last ten notes was a smiling giraffe). It was incredibly adorable, and Chan found himself laughing softly every time he took out the contents of the envelope.

'Mondays are always hard! Especially this time of year (can't the professors trust in me and my knowledge of things? I don't see the need for them to take a test).

Anyway, Channie, this weekend I found myself thinking a lot about you, every time I start writing my reasons I feel like I'm going to be left speechless but then I remember that it's not difficult at all to love you. So here is another one:

Your resilience, I greatly admire your ability to always get up no matter how many blows life throws at you. The vast majority of us feel discouraged by the slightest inconvenience, but not you. And that is something incredible.

I hope you have a beautiful start to the week, remember to eat your meals and feel the sun.

Fondly,'

And that's how all the letters ended, the author seemed to hesitate every time they traced the last line, he could feel the uncertainty even on the paper. Chan knew that they were shy and always wondered when they were going to stop being to finally sign with their name and be able to meet that person who stole his heart with every word.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

He was reading the note, hunched over his things, almost shielding the contents of the paper from the prying eyes of anyone who passed by him. You knew he was going to do it (he always did) but you couldn't stop your heart from racing like it was the first time it happened. You watched him from the hallway, hiding behind one of your textbooks while a silly smile appeared on your face, nothing made you happier than making him happy with your words, it's true what people say about "butterflies in the stomach" because that was what you were feeling right now.

His eyes crinkled in the most adorable way possible every time he smiled and from your spot in the hallway you could almost hear the sigh he let out after finishing reading the letter. After scanning his surroundings one last time, Chan placed the paper back into the envelope, and carefully placed it inside his notebook.

"You and your Shakespeare complex again" The sudden voice of your best friend so close made you jump in your place and drop the book you had in your hands. It hit the ground with a dull sound due to the thickness of its contents, and when you picked up the book again you turned around to face the figure of the perpetrator. He just laughed at you and your reaction, which earned him a closed-fist blow directly to his shoulder.

"You deserve it" You didn't even bother to return his reproachful gaze since he clearly felt like fighting, and instead, you returned your focus to Chan's classroom and his figure. He was no longer in his seat and you didn't want to look weird by leaning out the window door to look for him. So you sighed heavily and leaned your body against the wall while closing your eyes.

Until you felt Jeongin's presence come to your side "Are you going to tell him sometime?"

You didn't answer him.

Well, actually you did, with a growl that could mean either 'I'll do it today, stop bothering' or 'not even dead'. However, the blonde wasn't satisfied with your interpretation of an animal as a response and he began poking your ribs with his long fingers, drawing high-pitched sounds of protest from your lips.

"Stop it, Innie" You moved his hands away from your figure and stood firmly looking him in the eyes like a mother who is trying to discipline her misbehaving son. He crossed his arms with a satisfied smile crossing his face with foxlike features and, with a movement of his head, he invited you to speak.

"What do you want me to say? 'Hello Chan! It's me, the person who has been sending you letters like a fifteen-year-old for a year now. I've been in love with you since the moment I saw you at my best friend's house. Do you want to be my boyfriend?" You rolled your eyes tiredly and didn't wait for Jeongin to tell you what he thought, and so you started walking towards your classroom, with an exasperated five foot seven boy following closely behind you.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

You still remembered the first time you'd seen him, and how couldn't you. His presence could illuminate even the darkest corner, and his personality attracted anyone around him.

It was the summer, and you'd gone to Jeongin's house to spend an afternoon together. The air conditioning in your apartment had broken two days ago, and you couldn't stand being in your room for another second, which was already beginning to feel like an industrial oven. When you arrived at your best friend's residence, you weren't surprised by the fact that there were more people than just the two of you. Jeongin was taking singing lessons at a nearby academy and had hit it off with some of his classmates; so while you didn't know them as well as he did, you had the chance to hang out with some of them a couple of times and you could say that they were the funniest guys you'd ever come across. Especially Hyunjin, who seemed to be like a glove with your best friend.

Jeongin's house felt cold, as if winter had come only for the Yang family and, although you shivered with every step you took towards the kitchen where voices could be heard, this felt like paradise compared to the hell you lived in your house (and you even thought it was cooler in hell).

Reaching the kitchen, you heard Hyunjin's melodious voice followed by his nasal, boisterous laughter at a comment Jeongin made. You shook your head laughing inwardly as you pushed the wooden door open to enter the space, the boys turning their heads in your direction as they heard the hinges snapping back into place.

Your best friend gave you his characteristic smile as he got up from his seat on one of the stools in front of the kitchen island to give you a small hug "I thought you weren't coming anymore!"

From Jeongin's shoulder you saw how Hyunjin gave you a smile and a wave, you tried to return the gesture as best you could considering that you were trapped in the arms of a boy who flatly stated that he didn't like hugs. It was getting long in your opinion, so you patted Jeongin on the back, letting him know that yes, you loved him very much, but you were still sticky with sweat from the walk in the sun and you didn't want to make him uncomfortable when he was so cool. When Jeongin let go of you, he opened his palm to introduce you to a person you hadn't seen before, "I hope you don't mind, that's Chan over there. He also goes to our academy, and he goes to university with us! Although he is a year ahead"

You smiled at Jeongin as you walked further into the kitchen to greet the new guest and in front of you stood one of the most attractive men you'd ever seen in your entire life. He wasn't very tall (you could tell even if he was sitting) but his broad shoulders gave him an intimidating presence, his hair looked messy in a swirl of brown curls, and although he was dressed from head to toe in black (you were sure his nails were painted that color too) on his face was a dimpled smile that took your breath away.

From one moment to the next you forgot how to articulate words and you felt like a fish opening and closing its mouth trying to find something to say, but your brain didn't seem to want to work.

You felt a small push on your right shoulder that took your body forward, towards the table, and towards Chan.

"How rude you are" Jeongin rolled his eyes, and although deep down you knew he was doing it to tease you, your cheeks turned red. You felt your tongue heavy in your mouth as the seconds passed and you were unable to utter a single word.

"Leave her alone, Innie. It's pretty hot outside, isn't it?" Chan's deep voice brought you out of your trance and forced you to look him in the eyes. He had a sincere smile on his face and was watching you with raised eyebrows, letting you know that he was going to listen to you when you wanted to respond.

Your heart did a complete turn in your chest, you were surprised in the best of ways at how friendly he was, the vast majority of boys with his attractiveness made that their only personality trait but he was attentive and considerate of all the people around him, even with complete strangers who hadn't stopped looking or saying anything to him in three minutes.

"Yes...yes, it's horrible! And the air conditioning in my house is broken and you can't imagine how hot it is! I feel like I'm going to die one of these days" The words came tumbling out of your mouth, since you hadn't had the time to stop and think about what exactly you wanted to say, and your nerves were playing the worst trick of your entire life.

Chan laughed again (even his laugh was pretty) and he nodded his head, not at all scared or surprised with the lexical vomit you just made.

"It must be like torture, really. You must be tired from the walk under the sun, why don't you sit down for a bit? The boys and I were planning to watch a movie" The brunette softly kicked one of the stools that were stored under the table in your direction.

You nodded shyly and took the seat he offered you, right in front of him. You left your phone on the cold marble of the table and looked around the kitchen for your best friend, you'd been surprised by the fact that he hadn't gotten into the conversation for five minutes and to be honest you desperately needed to focus on something other than Chan's penetrating gaze you felt on your face.

"Innie?" You called out to him with a small shout, loud enough for him to hear you even if he'd gone into the garden.

After a few seconds, your friend's blonde head peeked out of the left door that led to the living room, and a mischievous smile appeared on his face. "I'm sorry! Since you two were talking, we decided to go prepare things for the movie."

Jeongin paused and looked at you evilly, a look that you knew very well and that didn't give you a good feeling at all "Chan, why don't you prepare something to eat? I bought some snacks today, come when you have everything ready~" And before you could protest, he disappeared from your sight again while laughing and yelling something at Hyunjin.

You immediately tensed up and cursed Jeongin in your mind, how dare he leave you alone with your newfound crush. If he was getting revenge for the time you tried to play matchmaker and failed then he was being very childish, that'd been years ago!

While the insulting thoughts against your best friend and all his ancestors accumulated in your brain, from the corner of your eye you watched as Chan got up from his seat and went to the counter where the mentioned snacks and bowls of colors were located, apparently the prankster you called your best friend had already prepared the trap before you even arrived.

You didn't want to look weirder than you already felt so with your limbs shaking and making even the slightest of movements difficult; you also got up from your seat and slowly approached where Chan was, you stood next to him (close enough for him to know that you were willing to help but far enough not to invade his personal space).

He looked at you briefly and smiled sideways, and didn't say anything as he gently pushed a bowl towards you. The task wasn't very complicated per se, but it did become extremely difficult when the only thing you could focus on were the large, veiny hands of the boy next to you, you hadn't realized how attractive it was to see a man opening packets of potato chips and arranging them in a small container until now.

"Jeongin said we go to the same university, do you study the same as him?" You were startled by the sudden interruption of silence, you turned to look at Chan after finishing preparing the bowl with the nachos.

"Yes, I mean, no. We share some classes because some subjects are correlative in each one's career but I could never do the same as Innie" You smiled shyly and shook your head.

"I study psychology," You finally said and looked at your companion, who had his eyes open and bright like a puppy's (how could it be possible for a person to be incredibly attractive and adorable at the same time? It would have to be illegal), and you wondered what it was that'd amazed him so much, there were millions of other people studying the same thing as you.

Without meaning to, you raised an eyebrow; studying his reaction. He laughed again (it was something he loved to do, apparently) and turned his entire body towards you, resting his left hip against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's incredible, the human mind is fascinating. I understand why you study that, for my part, I wouldn't read everything you have to read even if someone paid me."

You laughed loudly, infecting Chan as well. He was doing so with his whole body, his shoulders were shaking to the rhythm of his giggles and you could notice that, from time to time, a small squeak would appear in the sound of his laughter.

When the laughter died down, you looked at him again as you put the last bag of snacks in the cupboard in front of you.

"Yes, I mean, it's a lot to read but it's like you say. I'm interested in knowing the reason for behavior, and I would like to help people in the future. Mental health is something important" This last part came out in a whisper, you weren't used to revealing the reason for your career choice, most people told you that you should have chosen something that would make you rich in twenty years.

"That's incredible, I admire you a lot" Chan said in a soft voice, and you hadn't realized how close he'd gotten until you noticed the small touch of his fingers on your arm, the color quickly rose to your cheeks again and panic took over you, making you choke up when you spoke.

"Y-yes, thank you... not many think that way" And you moved your body away from his space; maybe a little abruptly but you were sure that if you continued in that position you were going to do or say something ridiculous, you couldn't trust your ability to reason at the moment.

Chan cleared his throat at your reaction and took two bowls in his hands, starting to walk towards the living room. You hadn't realized how loudly the other two boys were talking, were you so immersed in the situation to forget the outside world? Apparently yes.

"Are you done yet? The boys must be waiting" He stopped right in front of the door, waiting for you to take what you'd prepared.

You nodded softly, and after grabbing your preparations, you followed him into the living room.

You don't really remember what happened after that, you assume you watched the movies that the boys had already chosen before you arrived. You also don't remember if you had even paid attention, probably not, because you were very focused on keeping your breathing as normal as you could since unfortunately Hyunjin and Jeongin decided to each sit in an individual chair and by coincidence the only place left to sit was in the two-seat chair that your best friend's grandmother had given to his mother at her wedding, and conveniently Chan sat there too. So as the movie played on the screen, your heart raced with every accidental brush of your arms or legs against Chan's.

The only thing you remember clearly from that moment is that you couldn't help but look at his profile, trying to memorize every detail and every peculiarity of his expressions.

The rest of the summer felt like a haze, every time you made plans with Jeongin you knew Chan was going to be there. And that did nothing to dispel the feelings that were beginning to become more present with every minute you spent in his presence.

You liked him a little too much.

His kind nature and the way he treated everyone made you dizzy every time, but you were too shy to act on your feelings and unfortunately you weren't the only one who thought Chan was a good catch. Every now and then different girls approached him to ask him out, and although he always rejected them; you couldn't help but feel a little insecure about the situation. And there was also the small problem that he confessed to you one night in Hyunjin's garden: his last relationship had been somewhat toxic, and although it ended years ago, he was deeply hurt and didn't feel ready yet to fall for someone again.

That confession left a sour taste in your mouth, so you decided not to actively act on your feelings, you really didn't want to make Chan uncomfortable or force him into something he didn't want to do, let alone ruin the friendship you were building. But something as strong as love cannot be contained, and one sleepless night you found yourself scribbling in your notebook the things you wanted to say to him, the things you liked about him, and how he made you feel when you looked at him.

You weren't thinking when you left the first envelope on his desk, it was a completely impulsive decision that you regretted the moment you left his classroom. But when you turned around to go back and throw the letter into the trash, he already found it.

At first he didn't read them, you knew because you'd overheard when he mentioned it to Hyunjin during an outing the three of you made, Chan believed that one of his friends was playing a prank on him.

And that was the last straw that broke the camel's back, although you told yourself that you weren't going to write anymore letters for the sake of your friendship and your own feelings you had to let him know (even if anonymously) that he was someone worthy of love and that he wasn't what the people in his past made him believe he was.

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Once you arrived at the classroom (miraculously before the professor, you didn't think you could endure another lecture and there were still three more hours before leaving the university) you sat down in your respective seat by the window. The day was really beautiful, and from your place you could see the large patio where the entire student body went to relax between classes, it was your favorite place in the entire building and at this moment you wanted nothing more than to be leaning against a tree feeling the warm sunlight on your face.

"I'm not saying you have to tell him that but don't you think it's been too long already?" Jeongin didn't seem to want to drop the topic for today, he'd gotten up from his seat taking advantage of the fact that there was still no sign of the teacher and sat at your table, almost knocking all the things that were on top of it to the floor. You rested your head on the bench and waved a hand in the air, brushing it off in an attempt to say 'leave me alone already'.

Your best friend snorted exasperatedly, "You really are a special case, you've been in love with him for a year, for God's sake."

At the boy's aggressive tone of voice, you took your head off the table and looked at him with a frown. He looked back at you like he always did: challenging and forcing you to speak for yourself.

"It's not as easy as you say, Jeongin" You spat angrily.

"For all I know, if he finds out, he could throw my stupid letters in the trash and confessing would not only make me look weird but it would also ruin the friendship we have" You lowered your face, feeling a little sad "And the last thing I would like to do is lose him"

Jeongin’s expression softened as he realized the depth of your anxiety, and he reached out to place a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "I get it, I really do. You don't want to jeopardize what you have but you deserve happiness too, you know? Maybe it's time to take a risk."

“I don’t even think I have a chance” You sighed, feeling defeated.

Jeongin moved closer and lowered his voice conspiratorially, "You may have more possibilities than you think, but sometimes you have to give destiny a little push."

You raised an eyebrow at his choice of words and just as you were about to question him further, the professor made an appearance in the classroom ordering everyone to take their respective seats and apologizing for the delay. Your best friend flashed you a bright smile with his trademark dimples and snuck over to his table, effectively ending the conversation and leaving you wondering what he meant for the rest of the day.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

If Jeongin's plan was for you to not sleep for a week, then he'd achieved it. His words had been spinning through your head like a whirlpool that seemed to have no end. You knew that he'd been friends with the brunette for a longer time than you, but were they close enough that the youngest knew the secrets inside Chan's heart?

Or was he giving you the advice that all friends gave to their other friends desperate to believe in the illusion that the person they like reciprocates their feelings? No, Jeongin wouldn't do that, he was too honest for his own good and besides you'd known each other longer (your mothers said you were born to be friends). So did that mean there really was a chance?

No, of course not, that was ridiculous.

You shook your head in an attempt to get rid of those thoughts as you rang the doorbell at Hyunjin's house. Your group had agreed to meet to study and you needed to have a clear mind, the exams were around the corner and you couldn't afford to keep your brain preoccupied thinking about something that would never happen.

The minutes passed slowly as you waited for the homeowner, and while you were thinking about ringing the doorbell again fearing that the boys inside hadn't heard you, the door suddenly opened, and nothing could have prepared you to see the person who has been living rent free in your mind, you knew he would be there, but you didn't expect to face him so quickly.

"Hey, you arrived just in time, Hyunjin's mom just brought us some drinks" Chan was his usual self, with his beautiful smile plastered on his face and his relaxed attitude.

You blinked once, twice, three times before you managed a small forced smile and responded, "Oh, great, thanks," and you stood there in silence, unable to look him in the eyes.

Chan tilted his head in silent question at your attitude, "Is everything okay?"

His concern for your well-being was evident in his voice and he struck a chord in your heart. You looked at him briefly, meeting his gaze for a fleeting moment and nodded, still struggling to find your voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You finally responded, trying to sound casual despite the jumble of emotions inside you.

Chan's friendly demeanor never wavered as he led you into the house, you followed him with a notable distance between your bodies and so when you arrived at the living room where the boys were already seated with open textbooks and a monstrous amount of things to eat you almost ran to sit next to Jeongin, an attitude that didn't go unnoticed by the blonde, who looked at you with his eyebrows raised in a telepathic question.

Meanwhile, Chan didn't take his eyes off you as he sat next to Hyunjin on the couch in front of where you and your best friend were.

The afternoon went by slowly, too slowly for your liking, you'd gone with all the desire to study and get your mind out of the anxiety that was consuming you, but that attempt had been futile.

Although your gaze remained glued to your notes and your blue highlighter (which hadn't highlighted anything in the last hour, you'd read the same paragraph five times without getting a clue of what it was trying to say) you felt how two eyes were burning holes in your figure. The room was suffocatingly silent, and you were sure that your irregular breathing was evident to the entire group; your nerves were so on edge that when your best friend's voice filled the void you almost jumped in your place.

"I'm tired, how about we take a break?"Jeongin raised his arms towards the ceiling, stretching his back and then collapsing gracelessly against the soft cushions of the sofa.

Hyunjin nodded while massaging his neck, stiff after so many hours of looking down at his notes and reading "I thought no one was going to say it, I was going crazy."

Chan didn't say anything, he just closed his notebooks and imitated Jeongin in his relaxed pose against the couch. You felt out of place when the boys started chatting about meaningless things to lighten the atmosphere.

You only nodded when you felt your input was necessary, or laughed when you thought that was the reaction you should have but you didn't speak, because in fact, you weren't sure you were going to say anything coherent or at least make your voice louder than a whisper, so you decided that the best course of action was to stay quiet.

If the boys noticed it, they didn't say anything, and you couldn't be more grateful for it.

"You know" Chan interrupted the laughter of the other two boys after a not-so-funny story told by Hyunjin.

Everyone focused their attention on him, the tone of voice he'd used was more serious than his usual; so serious that it forced you to look up for the first time since the recess began and you found Chan's brown eyes looking directly at you, doing it so intensely that you thought he was staring right into your soul.

You held your breath, but you weren't prepared for what he said next.

"My secret admirer hasn't written to me in a few days" He was still looking at you, but there was something strange hidden in his irises, something you couldn't decipher.

Silence once again took over Hyunjin's living room, and the tension could be cut with a knife, it almost seemed like time had stopped when the brunette pronounced the last syllable. Your mouth felt dry, and your palms began to sweat. The weight of his words floated in the air and a thousand thoughts passed through your mind, each one more disconcerting than the last.

Hyunjin snorted, and looked maliciously at Chan "Maybe they are tired of you."

His mocking comment broke the heavy silence like thunder. Jeongin joined in with a playful smile, taking the opportunity to tease Chan mercilessly. “Maybe your secret admirer found someone else,” he joked, his tone light and teasing, “Or maybe they are just playing hard to get.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, wanting to burst while the boys laughed at Chan's expense while he, in response, rolled his eyes and smiled sarcastically at the jokes that his friends kept saying, he also looked at you from time to time making your discomfort even more evident.

You desperately searched for words to contribute to the conversation, your voice choked by the rising anxiety. But as Jeongin and Hyunjin's playful teasing continued, you remained silent, feeling like a bystander in a conversation that was becoming more cryptic by the second. Chan's gaze never left you, and despite the teasing, there was something in his eyes that betrayed a deeper understanding. His comment felt like a puzzle piece falling into place, yet you couldn't put your finger on what he truly knew.

As the laughter subsided, the room descended into an awkward silence once more, and then Chan finally spoke up, his tone more subdued than before. "Well, whoever it is," he began, his eyes still locked on yours, "I hope they know they've brightened my days with their letters."

The comment hung in the air, carrying a weight that seemed to pull everyone into its gravity. Jeongin and Hyunjin exchanged glances, their playful demeanor suddenly giving way to something more conspiracy.

You, on the other hand, felt an overwhelming mix of emotions. The anxiety that'd been building throughout the day reached a crescendo. You wanted to say something, to respond in some way, but the words caught in your throat.

Hyunjin broke the silence once more, this time with a touch of sincerity in his voice. "Whoever they are," he said, "they must really care about you, man." Jeongin nodded in agreement, and the room seemed to shift, it was a subtle transformation, but one that you couldn't help but notice.

Chan smiled, a genuine one that reached his eyes. "Yeah," he admitted, "They do mean a lot to me."

You desperately needed a moment to collect your thoughts and emotions after that serious conversation, so you mumbled something about getting a drink from the kitchen, excusing yourself with a weak smile and slowly, you retreated from the living room, the voices of the boys fading as you put some distance between you and the group.

In the dimly lit kitchen, you leaned against the countertop, your heart still racing from the tension in the room. The realization that Chan cherished those anonymous letters hit you like a ton of bricks. You'd never imagined how much they meant to him.

Just as you were lost in thought, the sound of footsteps behind you made you jump. You turned to find Chan standing there, a serious yet gentle expression on his face. His presence seemed to fill the room with warmth, and your anxiety ratcheted up another notch.

"Hey," he said softly, "You okay?"

You nodded, unable to form words an he took a step closer, his gaze never left yours.

Chan's brown eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, it felt like the world had frozen around you. You couldn't contain the thoughts racing through your mind any longer. With a trembling voice, you finally asked the question that'd been gnawing at you.

"Do you know who's been sending those letters?"

Chan's expression remained calm, but you could see a glimmer of something in his eyes, a hint of knowing. He didn't answer immediately, instead, he stepped closer, narrowing the distance between you.

His voice was soft as he replied, "I have a feeling I might have a clue."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you searched his face for more hints. What did he mean by 'a clue'? It was clear he was being deliberately vague, and it only added to your curiosity.

"But," he continued, "I'd like to hear it from you. Tell me, do you know who it is?"

You hesitated, the weight of the truth pressing down on you. The walls between you and Chan seemed to dissolve, and the vulnerability in his eyes was mirrored in your own. With a shaky breath, you summoned the courage to speak, your voice quivering with fear and anticipation.

"It's me."

The admission hung in the air, heavy and uncertain. You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, your eyes locked on the floor as you waited for his reaction. The seconds felt like hours as you replayed all the letters, and the emotions you'd poured into them.

Chan's silence stretched, and the tension in the room became palpable. Your heart raced, and you feared the worst — rejection, awkwardness, or even laughter.

Then, he reached out, gently lifting your chin with his fingers, forcing you to look into his eyes. The warmth and kindness in his gaze melted away your fears.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice soft and sincere. "I've cherished every single one."

As tears welled up in your eyes, Chan reached out to gently wipe them away with his thumb. He pulled you into a comforting embrace, holding you close as your emotions overwhelmed you. You couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and they flowed freely as you nestled into his embrace. He whispered soothing words, his voice a balm to your soul, reassuring you that everything would be okay.

After a moment of shared comfort, you pulled away slightly, looking up at him with curiosity. "But how did you know it was me?" you finally asked, your voice still trembling.

Chan smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face, a knowing twinkle in his eye, and replied, "I had my suspicions, especially after some of the things you wrote. But what really gave it away was your handwriting."

You blinked in surprise.

Handwriting? You hadn't considered that, no, haven't even thought about it when you started this a year ago, and to be honest you felt a little dumb.

Chan continued, "I recognized your handwriting from a birthday card you gave me a while back. It was similar to the writing in the letters. And then, well, I saw you looking at me during our hangouts, and it all just started to make sense."

You blushed, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief. It seemed like you'd left more clues than you thought. But instead of feeling exposed, you felt a strange sense of comfort knowing that he'd noticed your feelings all along.

With a shy smile, you said, "I guess I'm not very good at hiding my feelings, am I?"

Chan chuckled softly. "No, but that's okay. I'm glad you told me."

As you gazed into Chan's eyes, you noticed something change in his expression. The initial surprise and curiosity gave way to a more tender, understanding look. He cupped your face gently, his touch warm and reassuring.

"You know," he began softly, "I've always appreciated those letters. They made me feel special, like someone out there truly understood me. And I never wanted to pressure you into revealing yourself," Chan continued. "I wanted you to do it when you were ready."

"I was just afraid," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "Afraid of what you might think, of how it might change things between us."

Chan's thumb traced small circles on your cheek as he reassured you, "Don't be. This doesn't change how I feel about what we have. If anything, it makes it even more special."

A tear escaped from the corner of your eye, but this time, it wasn't a tear of anxiety or fear. It was a tear of relief, of happiness. You leaned into Chan's touch, and he leaned closer, his eyes locked on yours, and before you knew it, his lips met yours in a soft, gentle kiss. The world seemed to melt away as your lips met his, you felt the warmth of his body against yours, and the sensation sent shivers down your spine. His hands cradled your face, holding you gently but firmly, as if he never wanted to let you go.

The taste of his lips was sweet and comforting, like a warm embrace on a cold winter's day, you could feel the steady beat of Chan's heart, matching the rhythm of your own. The world around you disappeared, and there was only the two of you.

And just as you were lost in that sweet moment, the kitchen door burst open, and in walked your friends, their playful banter filling the room while wearing grins so wide they threatened to split their faces. Jeongin couldn't help but tease you, waggling his eyebrows playfully. "Well, well, looks like someone finally got the courage to make a move!"

Hyunjin joined in with a mock-sympathetic tone. "And here we thought we'd have to wait another century for this to happen!"

You blushed furiously, pulling away from Chan who chuckled in amusement, still holding you close. "You guys have impeccable timing," he remarked, his voice laced with sarcasm.

Jeongin winked at you, "Hey! We're just glad we won't have to hear you two mooning over each other anymore."

#stray kids fluff #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz soft thoughts #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz fluff #stray kids x reader #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #bri writes

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serverusslaype · 6 months

Text

Shameless, pt. 13

Severus Snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

OMG HEYYY!!!!!!! GUESS WHO'S BACK? IT'S ME!!

how are you all?? i hope you're all doing well. this has to be the fastest 12,000+ words i've ever written LMAOO. my god. this is the longest smut i've written yet. hopefully it's as good as i think it is... humble me <3 (i am kinda proud tho i won't lie eh)

so i listened to multiple different songs for this part lol. it ranged from j.cole, adele, noah kahan (I LOVE THIS GUY, please check out 'the view between villages extended version', it's my new obsession), rihanna, the weeknd, sam fender. like what. what a rollercoaster fam. ok, anyway, let me shut up!!

please enjoy this as much as i did writing it!! i'm so glad to be posting it finally - sorry it's like 2 hours after i said i would!! thank you so so much for reading and all your comments, likes & reblogs. i know i say this every time but i truly mean it. it means a lot to me. <3

warnings: smut, light choking, fluff, arguing, mention of adultery, MINORS DNI !

again, i've marked where the smut begins and ends with a big red *

VAMOS!!

Ben's fingers curled around his wand as his opposing hand reached up to pull his jacket over his head, protecting it from the rain that was starting to pour from above. He'd found himself outside your greenhouse, curiosity and perhaps a hint of suspicion twisting in his gut. After you'd mentioned that you were having a meeting with Professor Lupin after dinner, Ben knew this was the perfect opportunity. Ever since he saw you and Snape during your class, something just didn't sit right with him. He didn't like the way you were so friendly with that miserable git, nor the way he had his eyes glued to you like you were the only person in the room. Since when was Snape nice to people, especially Hufflepuffs like you? Surely, you'd be someone he despised. Everyone knew that Hufflepuffs weren't exactly the strongest, nor the most ambitious people.

So why did Snape seem to let you slide past his cold exterior?

Ben held his wand a few centimetres away from the lock on your greenhouse door and whispered, "Alohomora," and the satisfying click of the handle reached his ears, a wicked smile spreading across his face.

Before he slipped inside, he cast a cautious glance to the left and right, reassuring himself that he was alone, and not being watched. With a sharp inhale, he wrapped his wet hand around the handle and pulled it down, opening the door and creeping inside. The damp, yet mild air hit him rather hard. He forgot how muggy the greenhouses were. Ben grunted slightly as he slipped off his jacket and chucked it on the table in front of him; beady, inquisitive eyes darting across the room, searching.

It was quiet and dark, almost gloomy even. Only the patter of the rain against the glass roof rang out in the glass enclosure. Ben noticed a few vases of the bouquets he'd sent you were wilting on the windowsills, and the now-yellowing, sun-damaged notes were still attached to them. As his eyes flicked away from the flowers, he eyed your desk, standing idly as a tingling sensation suddenly tickled the tips of his fingers. He padded towards it, wand in hand, nosily reading the piles of parchment sat atop of it.

'Class A, First-Years, subject: Dittany', He lifted the next pile of parchment up, reading again. 'Class D, Fourth-Years, subject: Bouncing Bulb, Wormwood,' Ben huffed, and let the pile fall back down from his prying fingers, wandering around to your chair. On either side were two drawers, and this piqued his interest. Surely, there's something in there. And so, he pulled open one drawer, a defeated sigh falling through his nose as metal instruments amongst pens rattled in it. He slammed it shut, and opened the next one.

Notes...

Ben's brows furrowed deeply as he slowly dipped his fingers into the drawer, plucking a note from it.

'Y/N,

I have taken one handful of wormwood and a careful pinch of aconite.

S.S'

Ben drew a deep, slow breath as his eyes lingered on those two initials, sparking a burning fire of jealousy and anger within his chest. He flicked through more notes, his heart growing colder with every read.

'Y/N,

Potter thought it was fitting to forget his ingredients for today's class. I have regrettably had to take another handful of Billywig stings. He sends his most sincere apologies.

S.S'

His jaw clenched. Why was he leaving you notes?

'Y/N,

- One piece of cowbane

- Two stems of dandelion root

S.S'

As Ben reached the bottom, very familiar looking pieces of parchment laid there, stagnant. However, they were not in the same condition as Snape's were. In fact, they were slightly ripped, crumpled and there was a fingerprint ontop of it. Ben lifted it up from underneath the other notes, bringing it close to his eyes.

"Lumos," He muttered, aiming his wand at the parchment. That fingerprint was not yours. It was far too big. If it wasn't yours, whose the hell was it? Had someone else been snooping around your drawers as well?

Angrily, Ben shoved the notes back into your drawer, though he made sure they were in the same sequence as he had found them. He'd never felt so furious. Why were Snape's notes so well preserved, unlike his? Why were his ripped and shoved at the bottom? If anything, his should be at the top, you were dating him. Not Snape.

With this disturbing fact, Ben stormed out of your greenhouse, nearly forgetting his jacket in the fit of rage. He slammed your door shut, the windowpanes rattling from the force, almost shattering as he neglected to lock it, stalking back through the pouring rain to your quarters. He wasn't sure whether he was going to confront you about this, or just leave it be - maybe he'd just simmer on it, and make a decision later on.

The next morning had come agonisingly slow for you, but maybe it was because you laid awake for most of the night, tossing and turning, unable to find the sweet relief of sleep. Rays of blinding sunlight pierced through your window, gradually illuminating your room as it rose into the sky, painting the once-black-sky blue again. You rolled over to look at Ben who was sleeping peacefully, his dark brown hair strewn across his forehead, a few strands tickling his eyelids.

The thought of breaking it off with him slipped into your mind, and it was all too tempting. You knew he wasn't for you. He was becoming increasingly controlling, unbearably jealous and possessive. He was also arrogant - unrightfully so - perhaps if he was older, more experienced and lived up to his words, you'd let it slide. But he wasn't any of that.

You'd already vaguely planned how you were going to do it. On the day he leaves, you were going to take him to the pub in Hogsmeade, sit him down, and just break it to him gently, praying that he won't kick off. If he was the respectable young man you thought he was, he'd take it gracefully and leave, bidding you goodbye. However, just from how he'd acted with and towards you recently, unfortunately, you knew it wasn't going to be that easy. Would he even accept this? Would he fight back and make you stay with him?

With a quiet, frustrated huff, the bed creaked as you sat up, flipping the duvet covers off of your body. The cool, frigid air bit at your wiggling toes and instantly you just wanted to curl up back into your warm bed. Winter was definitely making itself known. You had to force yourself to get up, placing your bare feet on the freezing floor, dawdling over to your little kitchenette to brew yourself a hot cup of tea. Popping the kettle on, you reached a hand up to open a wooden cupboard that sat just above your eye-level, fetching a sage green ceramic mug and placing it lazily onto the countertop. The cold air began to make you shiver as you stood still, and so you quickly darted across the room to your sofa to fetch your green cardigan, throwing it on swiftly, a soft hum of satisfaction falling from your lips as you relished in the warm comfort of it.

Seconds later, groan sounded from behind you, indicating that Ben was stirring awake. So much for peace and quiet, you thought, scrunching your nose up. Throwing a glance to the right, you checked the clock and noticed it was almost seven o'clock, just two hours before classes began. You could probably nip down to your greenhouse earlier than usual and get ahead of marking some assignments, and selfishly, you could avoid talking to Ben and his prying questions. You'd feel bad about that, had he not treated you like a pet dog the other night.

Hot steam began to billow out from the spout as the kettle ticked, signifying it'd finished boiling. You quickly lifted it and poured the water into your mug, the satisfying sizzle of it piercing the silence in your room. Setting the kettle back down, you shuffled to the right to your small fridge and opened it, sticking your hand in to grab the bottle of milk, however, you found it empty.

"Shit," you muttered to yourself quietly, staring at the empty bottle unhappily, "no milk..." You glanced back at your steaming mug and sighed softly. Black tea it was... You weren't the biggest fan of milk-less tea, but desperate times call for desperate measures. You'd just have to bite the bullet and drink the bitter tasting beverage.

In the thirty minutes that had passed, you'd dressed yourself and unwillingly downed your bitter black tea, wincing and gagging as the foul taste swam in your mouth. And now, you were walking through the grounds of Hogwarts, on your way to your greenhouse, partly awake and ready for another day. The hem of your dress was slightly muddied as you walked across the patches of sloppy mud and wet grass, the heavy rain from the night before turning it into something like a used rugby field. You had almost slipped over more than once and your heart had shot into your throat as you threw your arms up to steady yourself, thanking Merlin that you didn't go crashing down; dirtying and ruining your dress.

As you began to near your greenhouse, you noticed that the door wasn't fully shut, nor locked, like you'd left it when you left late yesterday afternoon. A cold shiver ran down your spine and your heart pumped nervously in your chest. Had someone been in here? Or did you think you had locked it? Maybe you did forget to lock it up, you weren't the most heedful at times.

You walked toward it slowly, peering through the windows to check that it was empty, and there wasn't some psycho killer waiting to slaughter you inside.

Quickly fishing your wand from your pocket, you muttered, "Homenum revelio." Nothing happened, and so you felt at ease again, sighing softly. Ben's constant chatter about Black still lingering at Hogwarts had really messed with your mind. You should know better than to doubt Dumbledore - but when all you hear is 'Black's still here,' amongst other ridiculous things, it starts to slowly twist your thoughts.

Without another wasted second, you strode forwards and opened the door and stepped inside, shutting it behind you with a soft click. As you cast your eyes over your classroom, nothing was amess, and nothing seemed to have been tampered with, so you just assumed you'd forgotten to properly lock up yesterday. You needed to be a little more careful, aside from other dangers, you didn't want any students entering your greenhouse when you weren't around - God knows what they'd do.

Inhaling deeply, you stepped towards your desk and took a seat in your chair, reaching forwards to pull a pile of first-year assignments towards you and your quill that sat to the far right of them. You began to read through the first one, twiddling your quill between your fingers absent-mindedly.

'Dittany and Its Uses

Dittany is a powerful, magical herb that is dark green in colour, and is easily identifiable through its small, circular leaves. Another name for dittany is 'Burning Bush'. Dittany can be used in many areas, including wand cores, healing magic, and most importantly potion-making. It's most famous for being able to make fresh skin grow over wounds, making them seem more than several days old. Another fascinating fact about this herb is that it can also cure werewolf bites, but it cannot cure lycanthropy.'

You were thoroughly impressed with this student, considering they were only in their first year. They seemed to definitely have a flair for Herbology. Your eyes flicked curiously to the top corner of the parchment, reading 'Tristan Thomas'. Of course, that boy had been more than knowledgable in your class yesterday when you were asking about the healing herb. You scribbled some positive notes at the bottom of the essay, not needing to finish it as you were more than sure it was up to your standards. Lifting the parchment, you set it down to the right of you, and began reading the next one.

'Dittaney

Dittaney is a healing herb, also known as 'Burning Bush'. It's green and has round leaves, which is used to identify it. It's most commonly used in potion-making to make the Weggenwild potion, but can be used in other areas too.'

You winced slightly at the spelling errors and lack of description and depth, but you gave the student the benefit of the doubt, considering they were only in their first year. Perhaps they just needed some guidance... You glanced to the corner again, and took note of the name, 'Jayson Blackbell', making a mental note to focus a little more on this student. You wanted all of them to excel and succeed in your classes, whether they enjoyed Herbology or not. With a soft sigh, you placed your quill on the parchment and corrected the spelling mistakes, whilst also writing some encouraging notes on the bottom, avoiding the idea of scolding him. You weren't the type of teacher to reprimand first-years for simple mistakes, you knew how it felt to be ridiculed for misspelling something or even mistaking another item for something else.

"I never took you for an early bird, Miss L/N."

"Jesus!" You jumped, dropping your quill and watching it splatter ink over the bottom half of Blackbell's essay. "Severus!" As you picked it up, a frustrated grumble fell from your mouth. You glanced up sourly at his amused face, the corner of his lips quirking upwards wickedly. His hands were tucked behind his back as he stood still in front of your desk, that infamous black cloak falling around him.

"Still as skittish as ever," He mused, slipping his wand from his sleeve and flicking it gently at the mess on your desk to clean it up. "I thought you would have grown to be a little more aware of your surroundings." Severus added, his voice silky and smooth as he gazed down at your frowning face.

"I am, I just don't expect visitors at this time of the morning..." You sighed, a little vexed, avoiding his eyes. Severus's brows furrowed at your unusual flat tone. You hadn't been this irritable with him since before the two of you had kissed.

"Something on your mind, professor?" Severus asked lowly, almost cautiously as he looked away from you, glancing around your classroom. Everything seemed normal to him, so it was puzzling to him as to why you were so short with him.

"I'm fine," you huffed a little more dramatically than you wanted, "I'm just tired. I didn't sleep well last night. To be honest, I don't think I slept at all." You let your quill drop from your fingers as you sighed deeply, burying your exhausted face in your hands. Severus's eyes twitched as he observed you.

"Perhaps you needed a release." The Potions Master said jokingly, making your cheeks burn. You peeked up at him through your fingers and watched as he smirked, black eyes twinkling mischievously, clearly satisfied with making you blush so easily. "Or, need." He corrected himself, noticing how tense you were.

"Aren't you funny?" You hummed, a faint hint of sarcasm dripping from your words as you removed your hands from your face, cheeks still red. Severus cocked a brow at your attitude. "You know, I was thinking about paying you a visit last night after my meeting with Lupin."

Severus would have been pleased with your words had you not mentioned a meeting with Lupin. "Your meeting with Lupin?" He asked, his black eyes narrowing confusedly.

"Yes," you said, "I'd asked him to teach me how to conjure a patronus." Severus's whole body had stiffened uncomfortably at the mention of Lupin. He wasn't entirely happy that you were in a room alone with him. Severus knew the dangerous secrets that burdened that man.

"A patronus," Severus repeated, his fingers twitching behind his back as he stared at you, "and were you successful?"

"Yes, I was, actually. I might even ask for some more lessons." You smiled up at Severus, his muscles relaxing a tad at the sight of your happy face.

"No. I can teach you." Severus said plainly, rolling his shoulders back. You returned his arched brow, gazing at him curiously.

"You? You think you're as good as Lupin at teaching such spells?" You teased him with a cheeky smile, feeling a little brave today. His eyes narrowed slightly at your doubt.

"No," Severus hummed, and a brief silence ensued for several seconds. "I'm better." He said, a tiny smug smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, and you giggled slightly, unsure whether to take him seriously or not. Of course, you knew Severus was a very talented wizard, but he was the Potions Master, not the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"But Lupin is the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, you aren't." You frowned, a little tempted to playfully mess with him. His face soured slightly at your words - clearly this was going the way you wanted it to.

"Miss L/N," Severus stepped forwards, his legs pressing against your desk as he leaned down and rested his palms atop of it, staring at you with a wicked look strewn across his features. Your breath hitched as his eyes raked over your pinkening face. "Dark Arts teacher or not, I am far more qualified than Lupin could ever dream of being." He muttered, his mouth curling upwards as he watched you squirm. The power in the conversation suddenly changed to him.

You swallowed, shuffling in your seat as your eyes flicked between his glittering black ones, far too tempted to drop down towards his lips. "Is that so?" You whispered, poking the tip of your tongue out to wet your lips.

"More than so, Miss L/N." Severus whispered back, his hot breath tickling your red face, silently begging you to close the gap and kiss him. And you would, had you not been in an open, windowed room - an easy victim to unwanted, prying eyes. Merlin, the way he said your name really, really made you want to forget where you were.

Severus leaned back, leaving you wanting more as a gentle breath fell from your parted lips. He cleared his throat as he stared down at you, shoving his large, pale hands into his black pockets. "So," Severus drawled, "This evening after dinner?" He suggested, blinking slowly as he looked at you.

"Sounds good to me," you whispered, still stuck on how close the two of you had been seconds earlier, "this evening after dinner." You agreed, swallowing thickly once more in a futile attempt to clear the highly inappropriate thoughts that were currently clouding your mind.

Severus smiled at you with his eyes, nodding. His head stayed still but his eyes glanced around for a moment, as if checking to see if anyone else was around. Your brows furrowed in confusion, though, they soon shot up your face as he reached out a cold hand to softly grasp your chin, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. Your breath hitched at his risqué act and your cheeks turned an even deeper shade of scarlet.

"Don't be late." Severus said sternly, letting your lip slip back from the pad of his thumb as he released your chin. He turned away and swept out of your greenhouse with a swoosh of his black cloak, leaving you a blushing mess.

"Bastard." You muttered to yourself as your heart pounded in your ears, picking your quill back up with shaking hands and returning to your task of grading assignments. Now, you just couldn't wait for the clock to strike eight o'clock.

The day dragged agonisingly slow, just as the past night had, and now you were in the endgame of your last class of the day. A class of mischievous third-years. Despite this class that you struggled to teach, you were quite thankful that Ben hadn't disturbed you much today, only popping in now and again to observe nosily. You could only do with so much stress.

"Mr Goyle, don't put your fingers into the mouths of the Mandrake seedlings!" You cried out as you watched him poke at the sentient plant, a growing ball of frustration building in your chest. This class was usually so well behaved, why were they choosing to act up today?

"Professor, why are we learning about Mandrakes again? We learnt about this last year." Ron Weasley asked curiously as he scrunched his nose up at you, looking awfully concerned.

"It's part of the school curriculum, I'm afraid, Mr Weasley," you replied, sighing, "aside from that, it's good to refresh the memory. I'm sure you can't remember how to tell when a Mandrake is mature?" You asked, cocking a brow expectantly. Ron stumbled for a moment, struggling to find the words.

"Erm... I suppose not, professor." Ron nervously chewed on his bottom lip, much to the amusement of his grinning friend, Harry Potter.

"Hence why we are revisiting this topic." You smiled at the ginger-haired boy, and then cast a glance at Harry. "And Mr Potter," you said, watching as the grin fell from his face, "since you find this so hilarious, can you tell me the signs of a maturing Mandrake?"

"No, ma'am." Potter said, pursing his lips. "But I do know that they're irritatingly loud and whiny," he smiled proudly, pausing for a moment to lower his voice, "just like some students here at Hogwarts." Beside him, Weasley snorted rather loudly, catching the attention of the Slytherin students Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. Hermione Granger rolled her eyes at the pair as she scribbled down some notes, keeping her nose out of the drama.

"Somethin' funny, Weasley?" Malfoy spat, his blue eyes shining maliciously as his two friends, Crabbe and Goyle, stood beside him with matching glares. You weren't exactly surprised at his venomous tone, you knew the blonde-haired boy was rather rude to anyone and everyone.

"No," Ron said, looking at Draco with narrowed eyes, "just your bloody awful personality, to be honest." Weasley and Potter grinned amusedly at each other as Malfoy almost exploded with anger.

"Why, you little-!" Draco began to stomp orwards with a menacing sneer, looking to potentially harm Weasley. That's when you decided to step in.

"Alright, that's enough, boys!" You held out a hand, raising your voice. The entire class looked up in shock at your sudden outburst. Never have you had to raise your voice in their classes - you weren't known for such things. "You're both lucky that I don't take points from your respective Houses. Now, please, get back to your studies."

The two boys apologised quietly, and you sighed softly, grateful that you were able to diffuse a potentially hostile situation. What had gotten into them? They weren't usually so wound up.

Soon, the bell rang and you'd never felt more relieved. "Since we only revised a topic today, I want a full parchment's worth of notes about Mandrakes, please." The class groaned at your words, and you gave them a disappointed look. "Would you like me to assign you a five page essay on Mandrakes instead?" You asked, receiving a chorus of desperate 'no's. "Notes it is, then." You smiled, watching as they all filed out of your greenhouse.

You hoped you wouldn't have to endure such a frustrating class ever again, though, life was never that fair.

"Ben?" You called out, stepping out of your bathroom in a dressing gown. You'd just showered, freshening yourself up after a rather mentally draining day at work. The second that hot water hit your body, it was like all the stress, tension and troubles melted off of you.

"Yeah?" Ben replied from your sofa, a novel in his hands. You scrunched your nose up as your eyes flicked to him, noticing that he had his shoes up on the couch.

"Just to let you know, I have a meeting after dinner tonight." You said, drying your hair with a spare towel you'd taken from your airing cupboard.

"Another meeting?" Ben sighed and you could hear him roll his eyes at you. "With who?" He asked nosily, letting his hands fall into his lap.

You held back a groan, already knowing what was to come. "Snape."

"Snape?" Ben spat, evidently very unhappy with your answer. This time, you allowed that groan to slip out. "What happened to Lupin?"

"Snape thought he'd be the better teacher." You replied, keeping your tone flat as you flicked your hair back, running a hand through the wet strands.

"That twat is far from a good teacher." Ben mumbled, and you spun on your heel a little harshly.

"You might not like him, but he's still my colleague, Ben, it'd be nice if you could respect Severus for once." You said rather sternly, narrowing your eyes into a glare. Ben scoffed at your behaviour, growing a little irritated that you were speaking back to him.

"Severus? Don't use his first name, Y/N." Ben almost gagged, and this only infuriated you more.

An exasperated sigh left your lips as you scoffed, "Jesus, Ben, you're such a child!" You turned away from him, groaning and running a stressed hand through your wet hair. That reminded you - you needed to dry it properly. Padding over to your wardrobe to choose an outfit for dinner, you pulled out your wand and cast a quick spell to do so.

"I don't like that tone," Ben said, standing up from the couch, "you need to dial it back, Y/N."

"Excuse me?" You laughed in disbelief, twisting your head to look at him. "If you don't like it, Ben, leave! I won't have you disrespecting my colleagues like that. You don't hear me talking shit about your work mates, do you?"

"That's because you haven't met them." Ben rolled his eyes. You grit your teeth. "Besides, I've known Snape just as long as you have, so my opinion is valid."

"You can have your opinion about him, Ben, just don't express it in front of me."

"Why are you suddenly so pro-Snape?" Ben questioned, folding his arms against his chest, staring at you confusedly. "The amount of times we used to make fun of him when we came here as students - I mean he practically hated you, Y/N. You were always burning or destroying his stuff."

"It's different when you're both adults."

"Right." Ben snorted, though it wasn't out of amusement.

"Perhaps when you turn into one, you'll be able to see what I mean." You snapped, tired of his petty attitude.

"I don't want you seeing him." Ben stated matter-of-factly.

"Ben," You sighed, your voice becoming low, almost like a warning. "You can tell me to wear a dress you bought, sure, whatever, but you do not get to tell me who I can and cannot see. This is not going to work if you do that, so if you want a woman you can push around and control, go and look elsewhere, because I'm not her."

Another scoff left Ben, "Are you sure? Because you seemed pretty eager to please Snape the other day when he came asking for some silly ingredient one of his poor students forgot."

"You're joking, right?" You said slowly and narrowed your eyes, unsure whether he was making some crappy joke or if he was actually serious. "What, am I supposed to just ignore him when he asks for something work-related?"

"...No, but..." Ben clenched his jaw, staring at you with a stiff body, clearly unhappy and unable to support his silly accusation with evidence.

"But nothing," You said quietly, turning back to your wardrobe, a pretty green dress catching your eye. Reaching out, you palmed it softly, the smooth, silky material gliding through your fingers like butter. "I'm not going to stop seeing someone because you don't like them, especially when they're a colleague... I see them every single day of my life." Another tired sigh fell from your mouth as you turned your back to Ben, taking your dressing gown off in front of him to slip on the green dress. You weren't exactly bothered about Ben seeing you in your underwear - you did sleep together during the first month that you started dating, and it'd be a little strange if you told him not to look.

As you were slipping on the dress, Ben spoke again, though he sounded a little further away than before, so you assumed he'd sat back down on the sofa. "Fine," he muttered, "if it means I get to be with you, then so be it."

Those last words stung a little as your mind reeled back to when you'd first kissed Severus, let alone first slept with him. In his classroom, for goodness sake. Perhaps you should have waited a little while longer before crossing that line with Severus to end things with Ben so this didn't become so goddamn messy. You really didn't want this to get out, and you really didn't want your reputation to be ruined. Were you wrong for following your heart that night? Yes... and no. Were you wrong for sleeping with someone else whilst supposedly being with Ben? ...Yes. You didn't regret anything with Severus, at all, it was mainly just the guilt that came with it. It was all building up, and almost becoming too much at some points.

"I'll see you later on, okay?" You said, walking towards Ben with a sigh, and he quickly got up and cupped your face, placing a rather harsh, heavy and unflattering kiss upon your lips. Stunned at his bold act, you squeaked slightly, planting your hands on his chest and pushing against him lightly. Your eyes stayed open, shocked.

As he pulled away, his hands fell from your surprised face to hold your hands. "I look forward to seeing you later." A wry smile graced Ben's mouth.

You didn't exactly know how to navigate this situation. So you nodded, pursing your lips and forcing a smile. "Me too." You choked out the lie, the only thing on your mind being a very gloomy, brooding Potions Master.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have said that." Ben suddenly said, again, taking you by surprise. What the fuck was happening right now?

"Erm, it's alright, I'm just glad we have an... understanding." You replied, attempting to hide your confused frown at his sudden change of heart.

See, had Ben not snooped through your greenhouse, he probably would have chosen to leave tonight. But, alas, he had found something intriguing, almost heart-wrenching, and he wanted to get to the bottom of it. The man was going to confront you about the notes, and you were going to tell him the truth. He just wasn't sure when.

There you stood, waiting outside of Severus's office, a little nervous. He hadn't attended dinner this evening, and you weren't sure why, but you weren't going to poke him about it. He needn't explain himself - perhaps he just wasn't hungry. Wait, what if he was? Was he just too busy to come and eat? Shit, should you have brought him a plate?

Just as you were about to become lost in your dominoing thoughts, his door opened by itself, revealing the Potions Master himself sat behind his desk, scribbling away with his quill.

"Punctual as always, Miss L/N." Severus drawled, setting his quill down as he glanced up at you, a small smirk tugging at his lips. You scrunched your nose up at his words.

"Was that sarcasm? Because if it was, I haven't been late, ever." You quipped, walking into his office and shutting the door behind you with a smile. You wandered over to his desk and perched yourself on the corner of it, facing him.

Severus hummed as he gazed up at you. "It seems you're forgetting about a certain detention with me, many years ago." He quirked a brow, making you glance away, your cheeks pinkening in embarrassment. Oh, yeah, you forgot about that. "I remember it well, you brewed a potion so detrimentally wrong that it burnt through the cauldron itself and ruined one of my desks."

"Um, whoops." You blushed, smiling awkwardly. Severus couldn't fight the amused smile that teased his lips.

He took a deep sigh before continuing, "Then, you thought it wise to be impeccably late to my detention. How clever of you." He muttered, feigning a disappointed tone that rattled your bones. Even though the two of you were work colleagues now, that tone still scared you. It will probably be something that haunts you to your grave.

You cleared your throat, sheepishly glancing at his twinkling black eyes. "Yeah, well, I'm sure I had something important to tend to beforehand..."

"Such as...?" He encouraged, tilting his head at you.

"I can't remember, it was years ago!"

"Perhaps you were too busy daydreaming about that Herbology hobby of yours."

"Hobby?" You repeated, narrowing your eyes. "Don't push me, Severus, who knows what I might do." A quiet laugh slipped through your smiling lips as you crossed your legs, watching as his eyes faltered for a moment as you readjusted your position on the corner of his desk. You gently nudged his knee with the tip of your foot.

Severus leant back in his chair, shutting his eyes momentarily as he lifted a finger to massage his temples. "Ah yes, what would you, our beloved Herbology professor, do to me, a far more accomplished wizard?" He mused, teasing you.

"Wow, you sounded a lot like Lockhart there for a second. Almost had me fooled." You said sarcastically, referring to when Gilderoy had misjudged you during the Duelling Club. An amused chuckle rumbled in Severus's chest, and it made a comforting warmth bloom within yours. You couldn't help but smile at him.

"I think we're getting a little sidetracked," Severus said as he stood up, his black hair bouncing. "You're here for lessons, no?" You looked up at him, blinking.

"Yes..." You hummed, a little disappointed that he cut your conversation short. You were beginning to enjoy it. "Alright then, teach me how to conjure a patronus." Standing up from his desk, you folded your arms against your chest and shuffled to the right, so you were opposite him.

"Close your eyes," Severus said softly, his deep voice never failing to make your skin prickle with goosebumps. You did as he said and shut your eyes, concentrating. "Clear your mind. Envision your happiest memory." He added, and suddenly, his silky voice seemed nearer than it was before.

And you were right, because the next thing you knew, Severus had pressed a gentle, soft kiss on your lips; his larger, aquiline nose nudging the side of yours sweetly. Instantly, you melted, your head instinctively leaning towards his to kiss him back. As he pulled away, a brief, disappointed quiet whine escaped you, and your eyes fluttered open. Severus stood in front of you with a small smile painted across his pale, worn features as he tucked his hands behind his back, his arms disappearing underneath the shadows of his black cloak.

"What was that for?" You asked softly, a bashful smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you stared up at him with rosy cheeks.

Severus's smile widened a tad, "I'd forgotten what your lips felt like against mine." He said, inducing a rather adorable giggle from you. His heart swelled twice the size at the heavenly sound, and he found himself unable to take his eyes off of your sweet face.

"Well, it was worth the wait," you replied quietly, grinning, "am I going to have to wait another forty-eight hours for more?"

Severus chuckled as his glittering black eyes watched you, "Perhaps," he muttered, "it depends if you can successfully produce a patronus under my instruction."

"Oh, so your kisses are a reward now?" You laughed, observing the way his lips twitched upwards again cheekily. It warmed your heart to see such a mischievous side of the man who was known to be harsh and cruel, perhaps even heartless to some. However, you had been lucky enough to witness who he truly was.

"Of course not." Severus tilted his head, still watching you. "I prefer the word encouragement." He said, earning an incredulous look from you.

"That's basically the same thing." You feigned a playful glare at him, scoffing.

"No." Severus said, cocking a brow.

"Yes it is," You stepped forwards and your heart skipped a beat as his eyes dropped to your smiling lips for a split second. "Well, to be completely honest, it's bribery."

"And does 'bribery' have the same meaning as 'reward'?" Severus asked, his eyes glinting with a smug flicker.

"No, but-"

"So then I am right." He smirked, evidently proud about proving you wrong as he watched you simmer in your frustration. Your arms folded against your chest again annoyedly.

You turned your head away from him and huffed, "Shut up." Your voice was quiet, but loud enough for Severus to hear as another heart-warming chuckle left his chest. You fought hard against the smile that tickled your lips, but your effort was in vain. There was no chance at hiding it, especially when Severus was the one that provoked it.

"You should respect your superiors." He teased, making your head snap towards his.

"Superiors?" You repeated incredulously, laughing, "Please, more like elders."

"Are you calling me old?" Severus questioned, his eyes narrowing at you in disdain. A year ago, you might have crumbled underneath such a cold, sharp gaze, but now, all you felt was the complete opposite.

"Does 'elders' mean young?" You quipped, stealing his words from earlier

"A little feisty today, Miss L/N." Severus mused, his shoulders rising and falling as he sighed, though you couldn't tell whether it was from exasperation or something else.

"I prefer the word, banterous." You mocked him, copy-catting his deep, languid voice. Severus scowled at you, quite obviously unamused at your poor attempt at mimicking him.

Severus hummed, pausing for a few seconds as he glared at you. "Should you ever lose your flair for Herbology, do the world a favour and avoid pursuing the career of an impressionist." He said with a roll of his eyes, but the grin that broke out on your face had softened his harsh gaze slightly. Clearly, he couldn't stay mad at you for very long. Gods, what had happened to him? For so long, nobody had made him feel the way you did. It was terrifying, but so exciting at the same time. As much as he wanted to push you away, just to avoid the impending heartbreak, Severus felt as if he shouldn't. There was something more to you.

"Alright, well, will you be able to avoid the undeniable temptation of kissing me, and teach me how to cast this spell?" You joked as another soft giggle left your mouth, setting Severus's heart on fire.

"I will try my best." He said as a little smile graced his lips. "Close your eyes again." Severus muttered, and so you did, awaiting his next instructions. "Think of your happiest memory, and keep it within your mind," He said from in front of you, his eyes flicking over your peaceful face. "Got it?"

"Yes," you replied, thinking about the same tender memory that you did with Lupin, "I do."

"Now, with that in your mind, you need to speak the incantation, 'Expecto Patronum'." Severus said, his voice faltering a tad at the end.

Instead of following his instructions, you whispered, "Is the temptation still there?"

There was a pause before he spoke again and anxious goosebumps littered your skin.

Severus sighed deeply before replying. "I'm afraid so." He muttered defeatedly.

Instantly, your eyes fluttered open as quick as a flash, a beaming smile spreading across your pink cheeks. You almost leapt from where you had stood, throwing your arms around his neck and crashing your lips against his. A muffled gasp fell from Severus as he crumbled like a poorly built sandcastle under your touch; your fingers latching onto the nape of his neck and tugging him desperately close to you. His body felt like it was on fire as you clashed together, and within seconds Severus had his arms around you. His hands clutched at your waist hungrily, as if he had been forbidden to touch you - which was partly true, in way.

Despite the clear show of desperation between you two, there was love sprinkled within it. Severus's hands held you so tenderly and dear, his fingers squeezing your clothed flesh with such gentle care that you could almost feel the love radiating from his body. Both of you knew it, but both of you refused to acknowledge it. Maybe it was the fear of recognising something so significant and monumentous happening between the two of you, or maybe it was just pure ignorance. As of right now, neither of you wanted to think about it. You could deal with it a little later.

As he kissed you, he plucked a breathless "Sev," from you, and he held you a little tighter, fearful that you might just disintigrate in front of him and he would suddenly wake up alone in his cold bed. Your chests were heaving now, and you couldn't stop yourselves from becoming lost in one another's addicting touch; the feeling too strong and intoxicating like an expensive elven wine.

"I missed you," You whispered between kisses, your hands sliding from the comfort of his neck to the smooth yet cold surface of his cheeks, embracing him. "Gods, I missed you, Severus." Slowly, he pulled away as his nose suddenly felt wet. He opened his eyes to look at you, and his face fell as he noticed tears streaming down your cheeks, wetting your perfect eyelashes. His chest twisted at the sight - did he do this? Did he make you cry? Did he hold you too tight?

Your eyebrows twisted upwards as his finger caught your chin, tilting it up, but you avoided his eyes. "Why are you crying, my love?" Severus asked softly, careful to keep his voice gentle. The pet name had rolled so easily and casually off of his tongue that he almost didn't notice it. In fact, it seemed like you didn't either. He wasn't sure whether he was relieved, or a little hurt by it.

"It's not you," you sobbed quietly, sucking in a pathetic strangled breath, "well- it is, but it's not your fault, or anything- I just..." Another cry left you, and it was starting to upset Severus. "I wish we weren't in this whole... predicament." He had only seen you cry a couple times, and after that he'd hoped that he'd never have to witness such a heartwrenching thing again.

"We don't have to be." Severus murmured, lifting a hand to wipe away your tears with a tender thumb.

"I don't want him to hurt you." You sniffled, still refusing to look in his eyes, afraid of what you might see.

"He won't." Severus replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Promise me." You inhaled shakily and finally looked up at him, an ache in your heart as you saw his sad face. Your hands were still attached to his cheeks, and so you brushed your thumbs against them; a pleasant, homely warmth blossoming in your chest like a newly-bloomed flower in the spring.

Severus let out an amused huff as he smiled at your sweet gesture. "I promise. He won't hurt me, Y/N."

"Okay." You whispered, feeling a little more at ease as Severus's hands fell back to your waist, tugging you closer to him once more, a comfortable silence enveloping the two of you as you held each other. Severus's eyes flicked between your glossy ones, pausing to ponder over his words for a moment.

"I never thought someone as beautiful as you would care so much for someone like me." He murmured, lifting a hand from the comfort of your waist to brush a few stray strands of hair out of your face and behind your ear.

"Someone like you?" You giggled softly, earning a disbelieving look from Severus. You knew exactly what he meant, however, that was irrelevant to you now. The man he hid himself as, was not the man you had come to know. "What, because you act so cold and awful sometimes?"

"Perhaps," he mused, "but I'm not a good man, Y/N." Severus added, tracing the line of your jaw with the pad of his index finger sweetly.

"No, you're a brilliant one," You beamed, gradually leaning in towards his face to nudge your nose against his. His breath hitched slightly at your gesture, his heavy-lidded eyes watching you carefully, wondering your next thoughts. "Despite how we may have started out, you're one of the most brilliant men I have come to know." Your words made his cheeks flush a stunning shade of scarlet, and in turn, it also made yours do the same. He glanced away for a moment, flustered.

As he composed himself, he returned his dilating eyes back to yours. "Yes," Severus sighed, feigning disappointment, "despite my best efforts to push you away, you still somehow persevered."

"Unlikely for a weak little Hufflepuff." You joked, a tiny, bashful smile slipping onto your blushing face as you glanced down at his white collar, tracing it with your fingers. Severus took a moment to silently admire your beautiful face, the corners of his lips twitching as his eyes glazed over your soft features, his heart skipping a beat as the tips of your fingers tickled the skin on his neck.

He cleared his throat, murmuring, "You're far from weak. In fact, you might just be the strongest Hufflepuff I know."

"Is that because I'm the only one you've known?" You teased, laughing softly as you glanced back up to his sparkling eyes.

"Let's not ruin the moment." Severus quirked a brow at you, returning your teasing tone. You scrunched your nose up at him mockingly. "You still haven't matured yet, I see."

"Oh, shut up." You whispered, leaning up to hush him with your lips, kissing him with a smiling mouth. Severus's hand held your cheek as he pulled your face closer to him, his prominent nose poking it. Your hands rose from the collar of his black frock and settled happily around his neck again, fingers tickling the nape of it. A few goosebumps arose on his bared skin and he shivered, a breathy groan bubbling in the back of his throat. Severus's hands grew a little more hungry as you moaned into his kisses, grabbing you and gently guiding you to the surface of his desk.

With his lips still latched onto yours moving sinfully slow, he reached out an arm and brushed off the remaining things on top of the desk. He then glided his hands down your waist, towards your hips and finally underneath your bum, palming it greedily for a moment and encouraging a whimper from you. Severus felt his cock twitch in his tightening trousers at the sweet sounds falling from your swollen mouth, and so he swiftly lifted you up with no effort at all, his hands still full of your ass. Even though this was the third time he'd lifted you up like this, you were still impressed.

For a moment, he held you there as you wrapped your legs around his hips, securing yourself. Another throaty groan left his mouth as you rocked your body against his in a painfully slow manner, and Severus quickly laid you down atop of his desk, pulling away from your lips for a moment to stare down at you.

"I forgot to mention," Severus murmured, pressing a cheeky kiss against your jaw, trailing dangerously close to your neck. "That green dress suits you beautifully." He smirked against your hot skin, and you couldn't help but laugh. The raven-haired wizard felt the vibrations from your beautiful laugh through your throat as he licked it with his warm tongue, pressing soft kisses against your burning hot flesh.

"You're so painfully biased, Severus," you giggled, hands burying themselves within his thick, black hair, "you have no shame at all." You added, gasping as his teeth grazed your lower neck, nipping you.

"Slytherin is the superior House, after all, Miss L/N." Severus said lowly as he ravished your neck with his wet mouth, plucking more breathy gasps and moans from your quivering one.

"Is that why Gryffindor is kicking their arse?" You panted, your heart doubling in speed as he began to near the top of your breasts. He trailed a hand up from your hips, and your chest heaved, your breaths becoming stuck in your throat as he brushed his thumb against the curve of your clothed breasts, drawing a whine from your parted mouth.

"And yet, Hufflepuff is nowhere to be seen." He quipped. Not that you could speak a cocky reply right now - his adept mouth and hands were doing a very good job at incapacitating your mind - you had set yourself up for that burn.

Severus teethed the neckline of your green dress, the rich, sleek material hiding the supple skin of your breasts that he so badly wanted to see. Instead of pulling it down or to the side, he continued downwards, his hands following him, gripping your waist as he pressed heavy kisses against your clothed stomach, stopping just below your navel. Your nails scraped at his scalp as his fingers dropped to the hem of your dress, slipping it up over your silky legs, stopping just above your knees. Severus glanced up at you, as if asking for permission to continue. As much as you'd rather him do whatever he wanted to you without asking, you truly appreciated the care and concern he took with you.

You leant up slightly to look at him as a hand of yours fell from the confines of his locks to his cheek and you cupped it softly, smiling and giving him a slight nod. Half of his mouth perked up into a faint smirk as he dipped his head back down, pressing his lips to the inner side of your knees, slowly working his way up your legs with hot, wet lips, kneading his cold fingers against the soft flesh of yours that he adored. A rush of heat pooled in your stomach as Severus neared your burning core, anxiously awaiting his mouth to press against it. You slowly fell back against the surface of his desk again, digging your fingers inside the mess of his hair, gripping it tighter with every inch he closed in on you.

The Potions Master hooked a finger underneath the string of your black panties, twisting it around his digit, tugging at it teasingly. As you were laid back, your eyes were seeing stars as a warm, wet sensation was suddenly braced against your clothed mound; the pointed tip of it tickling your clit that sat between your soaking folds. You whimpered as Severus licked at your panties again, this time a little heavier, the intoxicating taste of you lingering on his tongue. Your grip in his hair tightened even more as he continued this sinful rhythm, your hips bucking upwards rather erratically as Severus caught your sensitive bud here and there. With a growl-like groan, he grazed his tongue to the side of your panties, slipping it underneath the thin, lacy material, an uncontrollable moan falling from your lips at the sudden tongue-to-flesh contact.

"Shit-," you whined, hips bucking once more, "my God, Severus." Your words were nothing but breathy and broken as he continued licking at your perfect core, his heart racing as you further became unravelled beneath his gifted mouth. "Please, please," You begged as you felt yourself nearing your breaking point, your legs squeezing around his head.

Severus groaned at your thighs sandwiching his head, and he placed his right hand on your outer upper thigh, squeezing it. "That's a good girl." He mumbled against your dripping centre, your arousal covering his lower face. You cried out at his words, the praise you so desperately desired from him almost sending you toppling over the edge by itself. Severus retrieved his other hand from your thigh and brought it to his mouth, wetting his fingers with his tongue before slipping two inside of you and curling them, pulling a rather loud, delicious sounding moan from your throat.

"Fuck!" You cried out as your body trembled, that familiar coil within you tightening again. "Sev, so close, I-" Severus could just about make out what you had said through your whimpers, and so he continued the pace of his fingers and tongue, though speeding up a little bit as your body began to rock against his mouth, evidently nearing your climax.

And within seconds, all of your breath had suddenly been stolen, and you were shuddering beneath Severus once more as your mouth gaped open, your back arching. "Fuck, Sev-!" Your brows shot upwards as you cried out, your eyes squeezing tightly shut as you rode out the tsunami waves of pleasure that rocked through you; a unruly and wild string of moans and whimpers slipping out of your mouth as Severus proceeded to continue fingering and licking against your twitching pussy.

Reluctantly, he removed his mouth from you, but not before peppering a few chaste kisses against the soft skin on your wet inner thigh. "I will never grow bored of those sounds leaving your pretty lips." Severus purred with a smirk, standing up from between your legs, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he looked at you, red faced, sweaty and breathless. He was rather proud of how effortlessly he had you crying out his name, and you obviously noticed, beginning to giggle. You were a little embarrassed at how easily he had made you cum, and so you hid your face behind your hands, peeking at him between your fingers. "Don't hide from me," he murmured, leaning down to pry your hands from your face with a smile, "there's no reason to hide such a beautiful face."

"Stop it." You whispered, giggling still, your eyes finding his softened ones as you allowed him to move your hands away from your face.

"Stop what?" Severus asked gently, frowning as he held your hand in his larger one; thumb brushing against your knuckles tenderly. Gods, you couldn't believe how well he'd hid this soft side of himself, and you were going to be more than careful not to make him conceal it again.

"Lying." You replied, another rush of heat flying to your cheeks as your eyes glanced down at your interlaced hands. Severus's black brow quirked upwards at your response, as if in disagreement.

"I'm many things, my dear Y/N, but a liar is not one of them." He tutted, lifting your hand to his lips to press a sweet kiss to the back of it. His words seemed familiar to you, but you couldn't put your finger on it at the moment; your mind too hazy from the previous steamy interaction between the two of you. "If only you could see yourself through my eyes." Severus added with a whisper against the smooth skin of your hand.

"Isn't that what I said to you?" You giggled, remembering how he'd replied rather bitterly a few nights ago. "You said something about me wearing 'rose-coloured glasses' or something." Mid-sentence, you deepened your voice to mock him again, and that same scowl returned to his features.

"You're awful at that." Severus grumbled, looking away from you as he leant back up. Letting go of your hand, he placed it on your hip and slowly slipped his fingers underneath the silky fabric, palming your bare skin; goosebumps erupting all over your body from his stone-cold yet sizzling touch. Your breath hitched once more as his fingertips neared the string of your black underwear, sliding underneath it.

"Severus," You warned, your voice low. Inside your panting chest, your heart was like a jackhammer against your ribcage as he tugged the string down over your hipbone, testing you. This was like a game to him it seemed, perhaps you should play along?

"Hmm?" He hummed in reply, his blown, black eyes flicking between where his hand laid and your reddening face. Gods, this man was pushing your limits today. "What is it? Use your words, Miss L/N..."

Your heart fluttered at his raspy voice.

"I'm not sure this counts as teaching me how-," You gasped lightly as his cool fingertips grazed against the curve of your ass. Severus's eyes instantly flicked upwards to meet your fluttering ones, smirking. "-How to cast a patronus." You finished quietly, swallowing as you tilted your head at him with your best poker face, trying desperately to act as if the way he was teasing you wasn't driving you fucking insane.

Severus hummed again as he had one side of your panties pulled down. "So, you do own a brain?" He teased whilst wrapping his other arm around your waist to pull your hips flush against his own, his desk shuddering a tad at the sudden rough movement. Instinctively, your arms flew out to steady yourself, your palms splayed out against the smooth wooden surface.

"So, you're still a dick?" You quipped cheekily, and Severus growled at you, one hand flying up to grab at your neck. It wasn't hostile, it was a light grasp, and yet it still undeniably lit a wild fire inside of you. Your hand had also flown up to hold the wrist of his hand that was wrapped gently around your neck.

"You need to keep that silly mouth under control." He tutted, giving your neck a light squeeze, and a loose moan left your lips, making a single brow of his shoot up in curiosity. Clearly, he wasn't expecting you to enjoy this.

"Evidently." You muttered, a faint and cheeky smirk lining your lips. "Are you going to keep talking or are you actually going to put that talented mouth of yours to good use?" You teased him, poking your tongue out from your mouth to glide along the bottom of your top row of teeth. As much as Severus hated being spoken to like this, he couldn't help but be turned on. It was undeniably hot, especially when you're usually so shy and sweet - he was actually wondering where the hell your bravery had come from.

Without any further delay, Severus kissed you harshly, the passion and frustration from your bold attitude fuelling his fire. The hand around your neck remained, however, his opposing hand snaked its way up from your bum to the small of your back, his fingers pressing into your skin, painting it red. You moaned at the roughness he was showing you, your mind becoming a jaded blur as he rocked his hips into yours fervidly, the prominent bulge in his trousers pressing into your panties. He swallowed a gasp that slipped out of your mouth as he kissed you, seizing the opportunity to dive his tongue in. You welcomed him eagerly, licking yours against his own in a brash manner. As you drew a throaty groan from Severus, you lifted your hand from his wrist to hold his cheek, tugging him impossibly closer to you. He released your neck from his light grip and slid his palm down your chest to cup one of your breasts with a harsh hand, plucking a whimper from your swollen, pink lips.

You panted as you threw your other arm around his neck, pulling him down over you as you fell back against his desk, lifting your legs to wrap them around his hips possessively. Merlin, you just needed him inside of you now, but this was almost as good as the actual sex. Severus's hands left your breast and instead found themselves settling on your hips, grabbing them roughly, pulling you into him; a muffled animalistic moan tumbling from his mouth as you grinded yourself on his raging erection.

He faltered slightly, his lips falling from yours, muttering a "Fuck," as his fingers dug into your flesh hungrily; his hot breath shuddering unevenly. "I need you," he whispered with an alarming urgency, a solitary hand slipping from your waist and dipping itself into your soaking panties, "now." And instantly, you let go of him to kick your underwear off to the ground, his hands flying to unbuckle his trousers with trembling fingers. Your hot touch was a burning contrast to his cool, pale flesh.

Severus inhaled sharply as you pulled down his boxers, the frigid air tickling his navel. Your eyes twinkled dangerously as you glanced up at him, a swirl of butterflies exploding in your stomach as he grit his teeth, your hand reached out to grab him gently, lining his solid cock up with yourself. In one swift motion, Severus thrust into you and you cried out at the full sensation, almost screaming with the overwhelming amount of pleasure and relief that seeped into your bones.

He stilled himself for a moment, evidently trying to adjust to the sudden welcome of your sweet, perfectly warm pussy. Severus panted, squeezing his eyes shut from the immense rush of pleasure surging through him. Watching his face twist, you giggled quietly from beneath him, placing a hand on his face, leaning up to press a gentle kiss upon his nose. His eyes opened slightly as a smile graced his sweaty features, gazing down at you with such tenderness and warmth that you were sure you'd fallen for him all over again. He looked so ethereal in this current moment, so much so that it reminded you of the first time you had properly stared at him in that corridor - just before you gave Lockhart a telling off. It was so vivid in your mind;the soft amber glow from the candlelight reminded you of the torchlights in the corridor that had bounced beautifully off of his perfect features.

A certain infamous three words tickled the tip of your tongue as you stared up at Severus. In fact, they were almost begging to be said, however, you refrained, afraid of how he might take them. You certainly didn't want to ruin this moment between you. It was far too special, and so you swallowed them down with a whimper as Severus kissed you once more, drinking every inch of you. He gradually began to move his hips and you whined at the delicious friction, clamping your legs around him tighter, encouraging him to quicken pace a tad. And so he did, going at a steadier rhythm, the only sounds echoing in his office being both of your ragged breaths and the sinful slaps of your flesh clashing together.

Strands of his jet black hair stuck to the sweaty sheen glazing his forehead, and you reached a finger up to tuck it behind his ear, planting another sweet, long kiss to his lips. The silent shows of affection through gentle, tender touches between the two of you soon made you realise that the pair of you weren't fucking, per se, but making love, and that was something that made your heart swell. An indescribable warmth began to engulf your trembling body as Severus shuffled a hand from your hip to your face, cupping it intimately, his forehead soon coming to rest against yours also. The remaining hand of his on your hip quickly made work and slipped down to your burning hot core, dipping in between your shining folds and rubbing an unceasing, circular motion upon your sensitive clit, prompting your body to jerk suddenly.

Your head fell back at the tingly sensation spreading through you, and Severus laid his warm mouth against your jawline, trailing wet kisses down your neck, nipping and biting it softly, careful not to leave marks - he was lost in the lust albeit not completely, he still had some remaining sense. And so he started to pluck more and more desperate concoctions of whines and whimpers from your quivering, parted pink lips as you felt the knot within your stomach tighten, telling you that you were almost at the edge of ecstasy.

"Sev," you whined, your hand slipping up into the locks of his hair, gripping tightly, "I'm- I think- I'm gonna..." You sobbed, the pleasure from his mouth on your neck, from his cock buried deep within you and from his masterful fingers circling your clit becoming all too much.

"Let it out, my love," Severus groaned against your neck, his thrusts becoming sloppy and desperate as he too was on the verge of finishing, "that's it, it's alright... Cum for me, darling," At his last breath, you came, a wild cry cut short from your mouth as Severus kissed you once more, swallowing your moans. He pulled away briefly to bury his head in your neck, his climax taking a hold of his body, a strangled, guttural groan rumbling in his throat as he collapsed on top of you.

Your hands slowly retreated from the comfort of his raven locks and settled on his cheeks, encouraging him to look up at you. Severus quickly obliged, using the remaining strength in his body to lift himself off of you slightly. Though he was still inside you, he remained there - not that you minded - and suddenly a quiet, almost bashful chuckle reverberated within his strong, panting chest. Instinctively, you smiled up at him, your teeth poking out from underneath your swollen lips.

"That has to be the best sex I've ever had." You giggled, your legs loosening around his waist as he chuckled again. You let your foot glide down his outer thigh, caressing it.

A proud smirk tugged at his lips as he muttered, "I'm honoured."

Another sweet giggle escaped you and it tickled his heart. God knows how he's going to recover from you if you're ever taken away from him. The thought frightened him, and so he pulled you closer for a moment, planting a tender kiss against your shining forehead, that familiar warmth in your chest quickly returning as fast as lightning.

"I..." You began, unthinking, your mouth staying open as you stopped yourself. Severus tilted his head at you, confused. There's no way you had almost let it slip. You fool. "I'm glad." You said instead, smiling.

"Hmm," he hummed, pondering, making your heart pound anxiously, "perhaps we'll start the actual lessons tomorrow." Severus stated, his smile returning. You nodded and a bashful blush painted your cheeks scarlet.

"Like you'd be able to keep yourself from kissing me." You scoffed playfully. Severus narrowed his eyes at you.

"Is that a challenge?"

"Perhaps." You mocked him again, grinning. He rolled his eyes at you and finally stood up, pulling himself out of you - rather reluctantly, might he add. Severus could have stayed in that position for the rest of eternity. In fact, he wished he could.

"You'll regret saying this tomorrow evening." Severus smirked, a mischievous glint twinkling in his black eyes as he used his wand to clean himself and you up, his hands buckling his trousers back up. He stepped forwards to pull the skirt of your dress back down. You offered him a quick grateful smile.

"Excuse me, who was the one was broke this evening?" You asked, scoffing hushedly. "Oh, yeah, you."

"Can you blame me?" Severus quipped, his fingers slowly floating up to grasp your chin, trailing them across your jawline and down your neck, sending a delicious shiver down your spine.

"I guess I am irresistable." You joked, smiling coyly. Severus hummed at you again, slowly becoming lost in your glittering eyes. You looked so beautiful in this current moment, so beautiful that he found himself staring at you for much longer than would be considered socially acceptable. "Take a picture, it'll last longer." You giggled.

An amused huff left Severus. "I remember the days you'd cower in my presence, and yet, here you are, acting like that never happened." He said, smirking.

"Yeah, well, you were scary back then." You shrugged with a cheeky smile.

"Am I not now?"

"Not anymore, no."

"I suppose I've lost my touch." Severus mused jokingly, and you laughed at him. A kaleidoscope of butterflies burst inside of him at the sweet sound he adored so much. A year ago, he would have found it irritating, and now, he probably couldn't live without hearing it at least every other day. Gods, he still despised how soft he'd become towards you.

"I do hear some of the first-years talking about how they dread your lessons when they're in mine." You mumbled, looking down to link your fingers with his. You glanced back up at him, smiling bashfully.

"Maybe not then." Severus replied and quirked a brow.

"Definitely not." You grinned, lifting his hand up with yours to bring it to your lips, turning it to press a soft kiss against his fingertips. "You're still the scariest professor at Hogwarts, don't worry. I don't think anyone will be taking that from you any time soon."

"I should hope not." Severus joked sarcastically, finding it quite impossible to not crack a smile each time you showed him such tender affection.

There was a comfortable silence for a very quick moment before the thought of Ben returned to your mind. "I should probably go." You said with a solemn face, glancing away from Severus to the old, vintage-looking clock that sat against his wall. It was rather late, you must have spent at least two hours or more with him.

"Yes," Severus swallowed, and the smile that was previously sat on his face fell, "I'm sure Ben is worried sick." He added sarcastically with a scornful sneer, making you snort.

"So, same time tomorrow?"

"As long as nothing drastic happens, of course. Though, this time, we will have lessons."

"Lessons, or lessons, professor?" You asked, your tone flirtatious and shameless.

"Lessons, Y/N." Severus said sternly. "I do plan on teaching you that charm. Other things just... got in the way, this evening."

"Other things," you repeated, bravely leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek, "I think I prefer other things, Sev." You joked, a faint, pink blush blossoming like a rose across your cheeks.

Sev.

You called him Sev. And it was during casual conversation, unlike before. His heart skipped a beat at the affectionate nickname. Severus quickly cleared his throat, composing himself before he spoke, refusing to embarrass himself. "And I would prefer you able to protect yourself during another dementor attack, God forbid it happens again." He said, his face turning grim at the awful thought. He placed a hand against the small of your back as you turned around, heading towards his door. Severus followed you closely, his fingers caressing the back of you gently.

As you reached his door together, you turned around to face him. "It won't." You smiled up at Severus and pressed your hand against where you had kissed him, brushing your thumb across his high, prominent cheekbones. "Not with you around."

"Am I your personal bodyguard now? When was this decided?" Severus joked as he leant into your hand, though his partially blank face didn't show it. You giggled again, setting his heart on fire once more.

"Right now. That okay?" You teased, smiling, letting your hand drop from his face.

"...Yes."

"Perfect." Your smile widened as you noticed the corners of his lips turning upwards. "I don't want to leave you."

"Neither do I, but you must." Severus sighed softly, gazing at you with gentle eyes.

"I know." You pursed your lips, staring back into his eyes, and you leaned up on your tiptoes, kissing him once more; your hands flying up to cup his cheeks. Severus wrapped his arms around your waist in return, pulling you flush against him, his whole body feeling like it was riddled with fireworks as tiny, exciting, colourful explosions erupted within his stomach as you kissed him.

One hand left his neck and you leant away from him to reach for the door handle, twisting it to open it as you continued to kiss Severus tenderly, smiling into the kiss as he tried to tug you close to him again. A giggle left your lips as he sighed and pulled away from your lips. Inside, he was fighting the urge to just shut the door and keep you here with him forever. Your aura was addicting, and he honestly couldn't get enough of it.

"Ahem," A female voice coughed from the his door, and you gasped out of fright, quickly jumping out of his arms. Severus quickly retracted them from you and tucked them behind his back, a bright red blush covering both of your faces.

"Minerva," Severus greeted, his voice flat, acting as if she did not just see the pair of your lips stuck together like a glue trap. You stood awkwardly still, terribly embarrassed that someone had seen the two of you acting out of hand.

"Don't act like I didn't see that, Severus." McGonagall scolded him, and he sighed heavily, avoiding her eyes. As for you, she glanced down, offering you a warm smile. "Y/N, what a surprise to find you here." She said with a mischievous glint in her wrinkled eyes, smirking faintly.

"Erm, yeah," you coughed, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, "I-I was just leaving, Severus was giving me lessons."

"Oh, I'm sure he was, my dear." Minerva chuckled, and you blushed even harder, going as red as a beet. Jesus, were you an idiot? Why did you word it like that?

"What is it, Minerva?" Severus asked rather impatiently, a little salty at how she'd interrupted your goodbye. From the way Minerva glanced at you, you assumed that it was a personal issue. So, you offered the two of them an awkward smile, silently bidding them goodbye. You caught Severus's eye, and he smiled at you warmly, his shoulders relaxing a tad. You smiled back, mouthing a 'bye' to him and turned around, wandering back in the direction to your quarters. As you were walking further away from the two of them, you heard muttering, and then a door shut. You quickly threw a glance over your shoulder, hoping to catch one last glimpse of him. Though, you were sorely disappointed. Severus had disappeared already.

Despite that, another wide smile crossed your face as you folded your arms against your chest, thinking about what had just happened. You couldn't believe how gentle and soft he was with you, he was like a totally different man. A man that you adored.

No, a man that you loved.

this has to be my favourite part that i have written. i think. as of yet. :) let me know what you thought!! i really really would love to know <3

thank you for reading and have a good day/night, make sure you are taking care of yourselves. >:(

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