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justwonder113 · 2 months

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Sharing a bed with Han

Chan; Lee Know ; Changbin; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;

My Masterlist

Summary: While in your twenties you do lot's of crazy stuff like walking up to a stranger and claiming to him that you're dating now. One bed trope; Friends? to lovers; Idiots in Love. Reader and Han matching each other's freak Warning: CURSING It's me who's surprised there, one or two adult jokes. Please inform me if I miss anything. Not proofread. A/N- Hey my lovelies I'm sorry I was absent for so long. Apart from studying I also started to work which took much more time and energy than I thought and my mental health wasn't also the best. But thankfully I'm feeling much better now and I quit that shithole too so I have time to get back to writing, which I'm really excited about. I came up with some new ideas and I can't wait to write it. Requests are open too so if you have anything you want me to write feel freeto ask. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated. Also I want to thank you all for all the love and support you have given me it means the world to me. Feel free to share your thought I just love knowing what you think about my work^^ Word count- 3k

Inspired by this post right here⬇️ It immediately made me think of Han

Being in your twenties is surely an interesting experience. One might expect of you to be this grown up adult making this important decisions, being all busy doing important stuff, paving your own way in life making connections etc... and You do there's no way you can escape all that grown up shit. But being in your twenties is also really awesome and interesting because despite being this hardworking people who have their shit together people in their twenties also have the tendency to do a complete 180 and to put it simply do some batshit crazy things and then carry on like it's just a regular Tuesday. Well you would know you're in your twenties and you really just proved yourself your point.

You considered yourself quite normal, rational with few crazyish tendencies because you were human after all. To put it simply you were an average person living their life. Like others you were trying to pave your own way in life, hence why you were here in this university working your ass off. You wouldn't call yourself impulsive or crazy even though you had done your share of let's just say some questionable stuff. Nothing special right? But sometimes the parasites the demon you just took over. Like now, what the hell was up?

To paint the situation more clearly you were just finished with your midterms and came out of your last exam. Of course it took a lot of energy and effort from you, heck you were barely standing on your feet from fatigue of couple sleepless nights. Maybe it is what made you act up? Not sleeping for really long time made people lose their minds, you had read about the Russian sleep experiment who gave a fuck if it was a creepy pasta.

You were the first to come out of the exam room and obviously overjoyed from bending over the most difficult subject of the semester. You really outdid yourself, all your hard work and dedication paying off. Well being beyond giddy with excitement you wanted to leap from joy to express your happiness.

It's like you felt the adrenaline levels in your body rise, that's when you noticed a boy your age come out of the exam room next to the one you just left. He also looked really happy and pleased wit himself.

Unable to contain your excitement you walked up to the boy who looked quite handsome you might add, and raised your hands and yelled high five. Were you disrupting other students? -Maybe. Did you care? -No not really. The boy was confused for a second but quickly came back to his senses and high fived you. And this is when a really dumb idea stuck you and before you could even think it over and talk some sense into yourself you intervened your hands and got a little closer to him. A smile crept up your face, somehow amused at the poor boys visible confusion. To be honest you had never seen someone who looked so cute while confused. "We're dating now, love you bae." You couldn't believe this words left your mouth and before you could embarrass yourself even more you quickly left leaving the poor boy behind. God he must have been so shocked.

One might think that that's where thing ended up right? And who would blame you? Any rational person would think that you're crazy and/or delusional and would make sure to avoid you at all cost. But we're not talking about rational people in this tale and things didn't end up there. As it turns out the boy, his name being Han Jisung as you came to know him, was just as crazy as you if sometimes not more. For the past year since that happened, that semester and one more he never missed and whenever he saw you walking in the hallway he always made sure to wave at you all excited and as dramatically loud as possible yell "Hey baby". It didn't matter what the distance between you was, whether you were on the opposite ends of the hallway of standing literally next to each other, everyone's eyes always would end up on you some amused some annoyed faces faced towards you. You always felt torn between finding his antics absolutely adorable and this whole interaction being your highlight of Uni and at the same time wanting to die of shame for all that attention. Honestly at this point you had quite not so (not at all) small crush on him.

That also lead to your dilemma. Despite basically half of the uni thinking that you and Han are dating you obviously weren't. But you were definitely friends. You first normally talked to him when you were at the party one of his friend threw. To be honest you weren't completely feeling yourself that day and when things got a bit too overwhelming you excused yourself and sneaked away to the balcony where you found him. He greeted you as per usual, not failing to put a smile on your face and suddenly you forgot you were feeling tired and overwhelmed. You talked a little about how parties sometimes could be a little too much and then something just clicked. Both of you completely forgot about the party you spent hours talking about everything and nothing at the same time and you felt so at peace while also feeling excited and completely immersed in conversation. You two got even more close when your friend started dating his friend. Naturally both your friend groups got closer to the point that now all of you decided to enjoy much awaited free time together and here you were now in the beautiful beach house you had rented. Looking stunned at the double bed you and Han were supposed to share.

You really liked him, way much more since you got to know him better and got closer to him. You couldn't even imagine not having him in your life. Which is why you kept your mouth shut about your feelings. There were few moments where you thought that maybe he did reciprocate your feelings but knowing how flirty and goofy his personality you decided to let it go and not to hold tightly to the moss. You wouldn't risk losing him as a friend. He was the person who made you believe in soulmates. He was your comfort person, someone you could lean on, your source of joy and excitement. You loved how he literally never failed to match your freak and vice versa and all the crazy stuff you did. He gave a new meaning to being alive!

God you were really going off topic, as you could tell you really liked him, which is why you felt beyond embarrassed when you got sorted in the same room as him, and especially now that you found out that there was only a double bed in the room. Yes you two were close and both of you were used to being touchy to each other but you had never once slept together in the same space.

You cursed yourself for agreeing to your friend to switch rooms with her since she wanted to be with her boyfriend Chan, who was supposed to be Han's roommate. You thought that it was not a big deal because you thought there would be two separate beds, you didn't really bother to check since all you wanted was to get sorted quickly and go to sleep as fast as possible. You would so smack her in the morning, you wouldn't risk going into her room now afraid of seeing not so pg stuff. This was the last time you were going to be considerate to your friends! Especially not after she whispered to you before heading to her room that this was your chance with Han and advising you use protection. Like you needed that on top of everything. Your mind already felt like blowing up!

God you were feeling so awkward you couldn't even fully enjoy how beautiful and perfect everything was, not even how this fluffy straight out of heaven bed was basically calling your name, it basically felt like it was tormenting you.

"Well this is interesting." You tried to break the silence and looked over at Han who looked like he wasn't breathing, God just what did Felix and Minho whisper to him? "Han?" you called out to him a bit alarmed when you noticed or maybe hallucinated who even knows that he was starting to pale. Well it did work and he quickly snapped out of it and gathered himself.

"Listen if you feel awkward about this I understand, I can go sleep in the living room." Han spoke with soft reassuring voice and it did help calming your nerves a little making you fell all soft inside. You had to pull yourself together.

"Oh no Hannie, that couch looked uncomfortable as hell, there's no way you can sleep on that your back will hate you for it!" You tried to reason, and Han thought for a second before bringing up another idea about sleeping on the floor but you didn't even let him finish the sentence. "Listen Ji, this is just as much your vocation as it is mine. You're here to relax and have a good time not to sleep on the floor! Thank you for being considerate, I really appreciate that, but I can't make you sleep on the floor. As long as you're comfortable with it we can share a bed. We're both adults let's not make a big deal out of this." Han looked at you in the eyes for a as if second making sure you were really okay with this then nodded his head softly.

"I'll take a shower first if that's okay with you? Han looked a bit dazed for a second but he quickly snapped out of it. "Yeah sure" He stuttered out and as if to distract himself went over to his bag to search for something.

You couldn't help but squeal on the inside about how cute he was being while heading to the bathroom but once it actually dawned on you that you would be sharing a bed you kinda wanted to bash your head against the wall it just felt like a right thing to do.

You made sure to thoroughly wash yourself to the point that when you got out of the shower you were convinced that you were sparkling. You quickly did your skincare, got dressed in your cute new set of pyjamas and even applied some perfume for that extra fresh feeling. Yup you were definetly sparkling. Also the way that Jisung visibly gulped the second he saw you enter the room? Just perfection, an ideal ego boost! Maybe sharing a room with him wasn't such a bad idea.

Han quickly washed up and here you were in the dimly lit room, in the same bed as him. The bed wasn't as big as it seemed, despite keeping your distance you could still feel his bodyheat, hear his every breath, smell his body wash and his natural a bit musky scent...God you felt like a creep! How the fuck were you supposed to sleep in here?

Han was also visibly nervous your bed was almost vibrating from his constant fidgeting and despite finding him cute and all that if he didn't stop in the next five seconds you would smother him with your pillow. Sighing to yourself you started bracing yourself that you two wouldn't get much sleep today.

Jokes on you you were out like a light switch in like 20 minutes. You only awoke because a suspicious sound coming from the next room, you know the one you don't really want checking. Also by the way his hands tightened around your waist Han was awake too. Wait what?

As if fanfiction gods were laughing at you from above you were all tangled up with Han as if him hugging your waist and you using his chest as a pillow wasn't enough. Oh yes you were both adults you could control yourselves nothing would happen, you just HAD to do a speech!

Okay back to important stuff, what the hell were you supposed to do now?- pretend to be asleep? There's no way Han hadn't noticed that you were awake you two were conjoined like Siamese twins! He probably could even tell the slightest shift in your pulse which went up a lot in this 30 seconds in fact you were pretty sure you would have either panic attack or would just simply pass out. It was 50\50.

God how did you manage to find yourself in this situation? And more importantly, who the fuck smells so good and feels this comfortable to hold? This was so not fair!

Han's soft call of your name brought you back from whatever the hell was going inside your head, his voice was warm asking you if you were awake.

"Yes..."You answered quietly your voice muffled a bit from your face still being smushed on his chest. There's no way you could turn to your pillow after this.

"I, uhm..." - Han begin to talk but stammered, unable to find his words, meanwhile you're stuck in the daze, your mind absolutely flipping over how hot his morning voice is. There was no need to mention the state of your heart, that bitch was a goner.

Feeling frustrated with himself Han sighed, his arms slightly tightening around you. You don't know what compels you but you look up, maybe curiosity to know what he's thinking, thinking maybe you can read his face. The sight has you left in awestruck. His hair is all disheveled but somehow looking so fluffy and soft you really wish you can slide your fingers through his locks. His eyes which are unable to hold your gaze sparkle with the morning light. In fact you're convinced if you hadn't already you would surely fall for him from this sight alone.

'"What is it Ji?" You ask after a few seconds of awkward silence, after noting how his thumb on his hand which still lies on your waist twitches occasionally, how his chest is rising up and down quicker than normal, how his breathing isn't as even as is should be.'"What is it Ji?" You ask after a few seconds of awkward silence, after noting how his thumb on his hand which still lies on your waist twitches occasionally, how his chest is rising up and down quicker than normal, how his breathing isn't as even as is should be.

One second he is looking into your eyes the next he has his face covered with his hands whining about something you can't descipher.

"Ji?" - You couldn't mask your surprise.

"You can't look at me like that!"

"Sorry? Like what?"

Jisung looked through his fingers and scoffed as if the answer to that question was the most obvious thing ever. He sighed in defeat when he noticed that you in fact had no clue what was going on.

"All pretty and stuff." You couldn't help but grin once his answer actually dawned on you. God he was too cute for his own good.

"You think I'm pretty?"

He looked at you with unimpressed expression, then he took the pillow from right under his head and put it on his face and screamed into it like dramatic baby he was. Looking at his theatrics you couldn't help but laugh which resulted disapproving grunt of protest which backfired because it only made you laugh even more.

"Oh come on now, don't be mad! It's not everyday you hear your crush admit you're pretty!" You couldn't help but tease and you waited for your answer to dawn on him.

"Still you shouldn't tease!" Han whined from under his pillow. You wondered how much time would he need to actually realize that you admitted you had a crush on him.

"Come on Jiji! Take off the pillow!"

"No I'm dying here!" He really shouldn't spend so much time with Jisung.

And then there was a pause for a second , then two and by the third the pillow covering his face was thrown from the bed into the room somewhere and Jisung staring at you with his wide boba eyes.

"Wait a minute!"

"There it is! Took you some time pretty boy, almost had me worried." You immediately quipped back.

"Don't fluster me woman I'm having a serious moment here what do your crush?!"

"I meant that I like a pretty boy named Han Jisung but for some reason he is taking his sweet time to get that."

"You have a crush on me?" You couldn't really tell if he was teasing or if he was in awe but knowing him he could manage and do both at the same time. He sure was an unique person.

"Good thing that you're cute pretty boy."

"Stop flustering me!"

"Should I kiss you instead?"

The way Jisung whined was beyond adorable honestly how could you not tease him? Now it was your pillow that was stolen and covering his face and his little squeals,

"Hey Ji." You called after a second, he immediately answered a pillow still on his face.

"Does this mean that we're actually dating now?" You wanted to keep your teasing tone but you couldn't really mask your hopefulness. He immediately got rid of the pillow, the embarrassment long forgotten, in second Jisung had you in his arms hugging you tightly he even gave you an obnoxiously loud smooch on your cheek.

"Absolutely baby." There it was his sweet gummy smile. There's no way you could resist that, softly holding his soft cheek you leaned in and connected your lips into a short but sweet kiss. Jisung looked awestruck for a second but this time he immediately came back to his senses and leaned in to connect your lips into much more passionate kiss now well tried to at least neither of you could stop smiling after all. You really had to thank your friend in the morning, sharing a bed with Han was surely one of the best decisions you had ever made.

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kaleldobrev · 21 days

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The One Bed, Two People Problem (2) — The 15 Year Problem Series

Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader & Dean Winchester

Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.

Chapter Word Count: 1.8k

Chapter Warnings: Cursing (2x), Age Gap (15 years), Sexual tension, Slightly vulnerable Dean, Self-Loathing Dean & Implied sexual fantasies (very minor)

Authors Note: A prequel series to the Old Man Universe (OMU) on how Dean and reader met | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆

⇠ Go Back & Read Chapter 1

"One room please," Dean said, as he plopped down his credit card onto the desk in front of the motel worker: a big grin on his face.

The worker looked at him tiredly and picked up the card. Looking at the name on the card, he looked at Dean, who maintained the same smile. "John Paul Jones?" He asked, his voice matching the tiredness in his eyes. "Like the dude from Led Zeppelin?"

"I get that a lot," Dean stated, trying to sound convincing, despite the motel worker probably not needing to be as he looked tired enough as it is. The worker nodded and started putting Dean's information into the computer; Dean swayed back and forth on his heels, looking around the motel lobby, not enjoying the awkward silence that was between the two. "It's a good thing I'm a Zepp fan," he added, a bit of humor in his voice, as he attempted to make awkward small talk with the man.

"Huh uh," the worker mumbled, not seeming interested in having any sort of conversation with Dean, as he was trying his best to concentrate on what he was doing, as the lack of sleep and pulling all-nighters the last couple of nights was starting to catch up to him in this moment.

Dean started to get slightly nervous, as the worker seemed to be taking a little bit more time than usual to be placing the information into the computer. "Is there a problem with the card?" Dean asked, after the motel worker started making a face that looked similar to confusion.

The worker shook his head. "Nah man. Just tired. It's my third night shift in a row and it's been a killer. Can barely keep my fucking eyes open. But I'm thankful to be doing anything at least. You're the first person I've seen in days, since the regulars haven't even come by." Dean decided not to ask about who or what the regulars were, but he would be lying if he wasn't the least bit curious.

"Surprising," Dean said. "Thought you'd get more on-going business being right on the highway like this. I mean, I've been to Tulsa a few times, and it's always pretty lively, even this time of night."

The man scoffed, almost chuckling at his words. "People don't like motels like they used to. They rather stay at the Holiday Inn down the street. Apparently, motels give people the creeps now," he said, rolling his eyes. "Too much shadiness I guess for people."

"I've stayed at more motels than I can count, and uh, they basically feel like home to me. They've never once given me the creeps," Dean told him, partially telling the truth, as he has stayed at plenty of motels over the years that have had questionable stains and clientele more times than he could count.

The worker nodded, handing Dean back his card. "Alright, we have one room available with a queen," he said.

Dean gave him a semi-puzzled look, unsure how true that really was, as the worker just said that he was the only person he's seen in a few days, and the parking lot was essentially empty besides his and who he assumed to be this man's car. "Nothing with two beds?" Dean asked. He didn't mind sharing a bed with you, but he wanted to get two to be safe, as he was afraid that he'd somehow hurt you in the middle night if he had one of his PTSD style nightmares he occasionally got, more often than he'd like to admit.

"Look, I have one room left. And that one room has one bed that you're either going to have to share with your guest, or one of you is sleeping on the floor," his voice had no hint of tiredness anymore.

"One bed it is," Dean said, his lips forming into a fake smile.

"And you're in room three," the worker smiled, handing Dean the room key.

After getting off the phone with your boyfriend, you hit your head repeatedly against the headrest, frustrated that you had let him get to you again. He was hours away, and yet, he had managed to re-anger you, which was something that you were close to getting rid of during your nice and peaceful drive here.

In addition to your re-anger, you were minutes away from meeting someone new, and there was a part of you that felt bad for Dean, because being angry and mean was the last thing you wanted as your first impression. "Okay, you got this," you whispered to yourself, taking a few breaths before exiting your truck.

Walking out of the motel lobby, Dean started thinking of ways in which he was going to break the cliche news to you, as a one bed for two strangers seemed like something that came straight out of a chick flick or romance novel. "So bad news, we have to share a bed because for some reason despite the motel parking lot being empty as fuck, there was only one room that had a single bed in it," he thought to himself, cocking his head, thinking how saying that to you might work. Then again, he didn't want you thinking that he got a room with a single bed on purpose because you were a chick, and hoping to get lucky. Then again, he certainly wasn't against it...Then again, Sam told him that you had a boyfriend and you were off-limits.

As he started walking toward the room to put his stuff inside and examine the room, he looked at the parking lot, and noticed another vehicle had pulled into the lot since he had come into the motel; and it was parked a few spaces away from Baby. It was a Generation Seven, F150, in a brownish beige color that looked to be in brand new condition.

And that's when he saw you, or at least he hoped it was you, pulling out a large duffel back from the truck bed, that seemed to be a little beat up.

He started walking toward you, making a mental note to introduce himself just far enough way, because he wasn't sure how quick to the draw you were.

You sighed, grabbing your duffel, and slung it over your shoulder, as you were mentally preparing yourself to meet someone new. But you were tired, angry, and a little bit hungry; and all you really wanted to do right now was take a scolding hot shower and hit the pillow face first, instead of making awkward small talk.

"Hey, you must be Y/N," you heard a male voice say from a few feet away from you. Closing your truck bed, you noticed a blonde-haired man, who appeared to be a little over six feet tall, wearing a flannel and denim jacket similar to you, walking in your direction. This must be Dean, you thought.

"And you must be Dean," you said, when he was just a few feet in front of you. As he stood there, he leaned his arm on your truck bed, and stared at you with a smile that could easily melt the iciness that was inside your heart; you hoped that you weren't blushing. You're here to do a job, and you have a boyfriend, you told yourself.

"Nice truck," he complimented, as he patted the side. "Gen seven?" He questioned, but his tone insinuated that he already knew the model; he just wanted to see if you knew. And of course you did, as this truck was one that you had practically re-built over the course of a single summer without barely any help.

You nodded, and smiled at him, practically grinning from ear to ear; your smile was breathtaking. "He sure is. I practically re-built him over the course of a single summer before I started hunting. You should have seen the shape he was in; the whole body was practically rust," you explained.

Dean listened to the way you spoke about your truck, and he admired it, as it was similar to the way he would speak about Baby. But the way you spoke about the truck was not the only thing he was admiring; he was admiring the way the denim jacket you were wearing was slightly falling off your shoulders because of how big it was, as if you had borrowed it from someone Sam's size. Even though it was still slightly dark out, and the harsh yellow lighting was doing nobody any favors, you still somehow looked absolutely gorgeous in this lighting. Your skin looked so smooth, except for a few scars that he noticed in several places. He couldn't help but wonder the stories behind them. You're here to do a job, he reminded himself.

"That's pretty impressive that you re-built him without any help. Not a lot of people can do that," he said, trying his best to pay you a compliment. "Especially since you taught yourself."

"Yeah. My dad knows some stuff about cars, but he's no expert or anything. My best friend was the one who..." your voice trailed off, and you slightly had a blank stare on your face, as if you were reminiscing about something.

"I've re-built Baby more times than I could possibly count," he said, pointing at her for a moment before turning back to you. Your blank stare finally fading.

"When Sam told me, I honestly didn't believe him. You must be really good with your hands," you said, with a slight hint of...was that...flirting? Were you flirting with me? Dean thought. No, there's no way.

He chuckled a little. "I'd like to think so." I'd do anything to put my hands all over you....he thought. "Oh, um, since I got here first," he began, attempting to change the subject before his brain started to create some fantasies. "I was able to get us a room. But, there's only one bed, so we either have to share, or one of us is going to have to sleep on the floor."

You felt your heart starting to race a bit faster now, and your throat was beginning to get a tad dry. Were you actually nervous about the possibility of sharing a bed with the eldest Winchester?

"I don't mind sharing a bed as long as you don't," you said. But as soon as you said those words, your brain was starting to create a moral dilemma. You have a boyfriend, this counts as cheating, you thought. No, it doesn't count as cheating, I don't plan on sleeping with him as much as I'd like to.

"I don't mind. But uh...just a heads up, I get um...nightmares," he said, sounding hesitant.

"It's okay, I get them too," you reassured. "Want to head inside then and see if we can get a few hours before we go to the station tomorrow?"

Dean nodded. "Sounds good to me," he smiled.

⤑ Move Forward & Read Chapter 3

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serverusslaype · 11 months

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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. >:(

taglist:

@a-laufeyson

@emilynissangtr

@livillain00

@meowskii

@nooneeveryonenoone

@vesperbatty

@biggest-simp-eversposts

@881127fara

@freshmoneyalmondathlete

@sonoluvr22

@v3lv3tvampir3

@lashipperrubia

@camilla-black

@acakius

@hiddlestonspassionsackx

@tellatubbies

@mikariell95

@sunshinemink

@m0rtifiedg0th

@spookymicrowave

@sayonara30

@novas-dreamworld

@ms-snape

@captainrogers-19

@once-upon-an-imagine

@cj-ghostemoji-destielpie

@renirat

@0chemicalwaste0

@6kaja9

@guardiandear

@gloriousrebelrunaway

@ameliachastain

@snapefiction

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gortash-week · 2 months

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hello gortash nation. it is i, host of this week @sankttealeaf here! gortash week may "officially" be over but that means nothing when the archduke wants more! (he will not stop until he has more, please i miss my family he's keeping me locked away in wyrms rock prison and is making me dance for his amusement! i cant dance! help please!!)

anyway - despite the event ending, i will be leaving the AO3 collection open until the end of august / early september for those who found the event a little later and want to make something for these prompts. time is a weird soup after all, we don't follow rules here!!

if you've made something and have thought "oh no! its not the day of the prompt anymore - i cant post it" PLEASE share it!! i'm still accepting submissions and i'll still reshare any gortash week work here & tag whichever day its for! i know some people found out about the event as it was happening and if the prompts have inspired you - please share!!! i'd love to see it!!

thank you from the bottom of my heart if you've participated in this event - whether that's making things or simply engaging with the content shared. it means the world to me that people found the prompts interesting enough to take time out of their day to make something for it. i had no idea this event would be as big as it's become and i'm so so so impressed with the wide variety of work made and shared!! everyone is so talented and i cant wait to see what other things you all make and write <3

as for the future? well, i'd love to run more events like this! i've mentioned before about a hypothetical "gort month" that would include two prompts per week, 8(ish) prompts in total. that way there's a loooot more time to work on things & if people wish to join halfway through it's a lot less pressure to do so! my aim for running events is to keep them as stress & pressure free as possible because theyre here to be fun! i'm also open to comments & ideas & feedback on how you (yes, you!) found this event so if i do end up running something else in the future it can be better and better! pls feel free to shoot me as ask (anon or not it's fine! be respectful though, that's all i ask<3) if you have any post-event comments you want to air and i'll respond!!

again, if i've missed any of your work you've posted, please send it my way! no message required, just drop me the link & i'll share it asap!! thank you to those who have done that already!! i easily miss things and i dont want anyone to feel like im purposefully leaving them out!!

thank you again for making this week so enjoyable! ive had such a blast hosting it and if i see any other events i'll be sure to reblog them here (for those interested: i've seen a wyllmancer week, a galemancer week (both on twitter), and a lae'zel week on here that i can't seem to find the post for to link to :( )

again - super open to comments and feedback or even if you just want to say hi! i'm way more active on my main blog if you're interested in hanging out there :3

thank u so much for this week, it's been so much fun <3 <3

#gortash week #gortashweek #enver gortash #lord gortash #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #thank u all again!!!!#this has been so much fun!#im so happy to be part of this community!!

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untitledmemes · 8 months

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Hazbin Hotel Prompts

Part I An assortment of prompts taken from the series Hazbin Hotel on Amazon Prime. Adjust as necessary to fit pronoun and/or descriptor. In case of Multimuse, don't forget to specify which one/s. Reblog, please do not repost or add.

“ Oh, shit. Did you hear all of that? ”

“ I enjoy your theatrics. ”

“ I just hope what I'm trying to do here will work. ”

“ Well hello there, you wayward sinner. Do you like blood, violence and depravity of a sexual nature? ”

“ Your last attempt at salvation starts here. ”

“ Thank you so much for making this. Seriously. Amazing. ”

“ Oh, fun. You had a little fun with it? ”

“ Sex sells, don't it? ”

“ I really don't want to exploit you in that way. ”

“ This body was made to be exploited. ”

“ I could keep goin' all night, baby. ”

“ Why do you think I'm here? ”

“ I like being forced. ”

“ I'm choosing to be here, and I think it's all stupid. ”

“ That's kind of the end of the road, ain't it? ”

“ Just because nobody made it out before, doesn't mean it's not possible. ”

“ There's just no way I could blow it, not this once in a lifetime chance. ”

“ It's a happy day in hell. ”

“ Ha! I fucking got you!. ”

“ So, I'm happy we got this opportunity to meet. ”

“ I need you to be less horny, if possible. ”

“ I ain't no actor! I can't memorize this shit! ”

“ So, anyway, we fucked and it was awesome. ”

“ Fucking love putting my name on shit. Shit's the best. ”

“ Alright, um, maybe we can try and fix it in post. ”

“ Seems like you're having a bit of trouble there, hm? ”

“ I wouldn't try that, my dear. ”

“ I don't care who or what you are. If you're staying here, you are going to make this work. ”

“ Awesome job, danger tits. Pound it. ”

“ Those are my people. You know that, right? ”

“ They had their chance and they earned damnation. ”

“ How does that feel? To know how little you matter. ”

“ Let me stop you right there, save us all precious time. ”

“ Did I hear you imply they don't deserve death? ”

“ It means we're all royally fucked. ”

“ We should just go down there now and destroy them. ”

“ Oh please, you had less than half a chance when you started all this. ”

“ Well, it's not like people are going to show up at our doorstep. ”

“ Now that's good television. ”

“ Whatever could be the problem, my dear? ”

“ Fuck my life. ”

“ I have a fire to put out upstairs. ”

“ Well, looks like you have everything under control here. ”

“ Take care of the piss baby. ”

“ That fucking slut walked out on me. ME. I fucking made him! ”

“ Which of these makes me look sexier? ”

“ What are you doing? You're not going over there. ”

“ Now that's why they pay you the big bucks. ”

“ I think he's had enough. ”

“ Thank you... For letting your guard down! ”

“ Can't let my new project fall into disrepair already. ”

“ That fucker is back! ”

“ You still pissed he almost beat you that time? ”

“ Things changed a lot since he left town. ”

“ Welcome home. I'm gonna make you wish that you stayed gone. ”

“ Did anybody miss him? Did anybody notice? ”

“ Where's he been? Who gives a shit? ”

“ You old timey prick, I'll show you suffering. ”

“ I'm gonna make you wish that I'd stayed gone. ”

“ How exactly are we supposed to stop it? ”

“ Who would want to use their last days not fucking and fighting? ”

“ I didn't come looking for a fight. ”

“ Aren't you supposed to protect this place? ”

“ I give you a week. Tops. ”

“ It's nice to have someone interested for once. ”

“ Never leave me again. ”

“ I definitely remember you now. ”

“ It's great, right? Keep going. ”

“ The only cool thing has is to say no to drugs. ”

“ I'm off to not have sexual intercourse before marriage! ”

“ You like me. You really like me! ”

“ You actually think you can change? ”

“ You slippery little shit! ”

“ I fucking knew there was something shitty about you. ”

“ Get your aggressively average body off of me! ”

“ This little bitch is a traitor! ”

“ Wait, you were caught? It hasn't even been a day! ”

“ The path to forgiveness is a twisting trail of hearts, but sorry is where it starts. ”

“ Why are you so lame? ”

“ You'll have to try better than that next time, ol' pal. ”

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bonkwosher · 4 months

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OMGOMGOMG… i saw your dan stevens character x reader post and i’m literally the happiest person alive over how accurate they are 😭😭💖💖 if you don’t mind me requesting (holding back sending so many requests in the future): how would frank/trapper/david react to a partner with stuffed animals/plushies? (as somebody who has a bunch of sanrio ones and kinda gets clowned on by some family members for it 😭) 🥺 + maybe what stuffed animals they’d give to their partner as a gift? THIS ONES SO SPECIFIC BUT 😭💖

A/N: I'm so incredibly glad someone enjoyed my headcanons that much. Also, please send me a million requests it would make me so happy (no pressure). Also Also, I loved reading your reaction through hashtags in your reblog lol

Pairing(s): Travis "Trapper" Beasley x GN!Reader, Adam "Frank" Barnett x GN!Reader (Separate), David Collins x GN!Reader (Separate)

Contains: The boys reacting to the reader having stuffed animals, the boys giving you stuffed animals, sex mentioned with Frank but barely, Frank being a dork, Trapper being a sweetheart, David being a good listener

Frank:

I have a feeling Frank might be a little weirded out, for lack of a better word, at first, especially if there are a lot of them. If you've got a couple he'll be fine with it but if there's a bunch he'll just be a little confused as to why they're important at first. Like this man can't grasp why you have an attachment to them.

As you spend more time together he'll pretty easily get used to them. If they have names he will only refer to them by name, he won't call them stuffed animals, plushies, stuffies, etc. He becomes like the dad that didn't want a pet, then cut to the dad absolutely loving the pet but never admitting it.

Like you two go to sit on the couch together to watch a movie & you left a stuffie on the couch & he fully treats it like a human. Like he nods at the little guy & goes "Gerald," in greeting before scooting the plushie to the side of the couch.

If you store a bunch of them on your bed, he definitely refers to them as "the fellas" regardless of their genders if they have any. Like he'll climb into your bed getting ready to cuddle you & acknowledges them saying, "What's up fellas?" Mainly because it makes you laugh.

He definitely does not like them facing you two when you're having sex or making out. He will turn them to face the wall one by one if he has to.

After finding out that you like plushies so much I think Frank would be the kind of guy to buy you one before he goes on long heists. He did it once & that made you smile so he kept doing it. The first time he brought you a little one, a white cat with yellow spots.

"You know, I'll be on a business trip the next couple days & I thought this one looked like me so I thought it would be a good idea. Now you don't have to miss me or whatever."

You definitely agreed that it looked like him. The little cat had a scowl & everything.

Trapper:

Trapper probably has an old stuffed animal from his childhood that's being held together by many different stitches & still sits on his bed to this day. So when you tell him you have stuffed animals he's not even phased, actually, he shows interest in them.

He wants to know their names, & if they don't have names he wants to name them.

There was a time when you & Trapper had gotten into an argument & he gave you some time to cool down & he stayed in the bedroom. The door was left ajar & you heard some quiet talking. After getting the right angle you manage to catch the man talking to your pile of stuffed animals that lived in the corner of the bed about how sorry he was & how he didn't mean to upset you.

As you watch your hand accidentally knocks the door a little causing it to squeak on its hinges. Trapper immediately turns to you, his face flushing when he realizes you were there. "I'm sorry, your stuffed animals are just really good listeners."

If any of your stuffies get ripped or you find a hole in one you better believe he goes full vet mode. He's had to do stitches before so sewing is nothing. He will play hard into the vet thing to make you laugh, especially if your stuffed animal getting ripped is a big deal for you. He'll whip out a stethoscope, wrap the limb that got ripped in some paw print bandages, etc. He also loves any praise about him being good at his job so please give him some.

I feel like Trapper's stuffie gifts would come with a story. Like the day he took out King Kong's tooth he probably got you a King Kong stuffie & told you all about it. Now next to whatever stuffed animals you have you have all the titans of the world (at least the ones he's worked on) in plushie form.

David:

David, like Frank, will probably have a little bit of a tough time gathering what makes them so special to you but he would probably just straight up ask you. David loves listening to you talk about just about anything, especially when it's something you care about. So when you tell them why they mean so much to you, it only brings him joy.

I imagine before you were even partners & he was heading off to the army (He would not have left if he had the guts to ask you out), you gave him a small stuffed animal to remember you by. As he was getting ready to go & everyone got a little teary-eyed, he swore to you that he would keep that little stuffie until he saw you again. That little guy survived a war & when David returned, you best bet that little guy was alive & well in his backpack. He stays with him in that big ass green backpack to this day.

Whenever you're away on business or don't get home till late, you'll arrive home to see David cuddling one of your stuffies to help him sleep. He claims it has the slightest smell of your perfume/cologne/etc & it reminds him of you.

If the collection grows past space on your bed for all the stuffies, David will build you a shelf for them. You won't even ask him to. He'll just see that you have space in your room for a shelf, you'll off-handedly mention you're running out of space on your bed for the stuffies, then he'll put two & two together & build you that thing. An added bonus, he'll probably be in a tank top or some shirt that shows off his arms on the hot summer day he decides to build it. Maybe even shirtless.

I feel like David wouldn't get you any specific stuffed animals. He would just wait for you to mention the ones you want, literally run across town to get it for you, then run back & it appears in your flock of stuffed animals the next day.

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jedi-hawkins · 5 months

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"Strap in, kid. You're not gonna want to miss this view." - Sgt. Hunter

I've seen a few others make a tribute post for the batch and I felt some words pulling at my chest.

I was a latecomer to the fandom, I binged season 1 & 2 in July of last year and it's been a wild ride since. I've laughed and cried and everything in between. It's hard to even articulate what this show means to me.

I began my Star Wars journey like many others, with the original trilogy at some point in childhood (you could consider me a zillenial). I liked them, but I was much more of a Harry Potter nerd at the time, my head was at Hogwarts. The prequels, however captured my heart. I don't remember when I first watched TCW, but it's very clear my heart belongs to the times of the Republic.

Like things often do, other fandoms have faded out of my peak interests, Harry Potter, Hunger Games and Maximum Ride to name a few, but any time I've come back to Star Wars, it feels like coming home. A galaxy far far away so vast and full of hope and love and grief and sorrow.

The last year has been far from easy. For the last few years, that feels like all we've been saying, huh? But in all seriousness, I really did loose myself in the past year, but oddly enough, Star Wars was a constant for me, it was an escape. I joined tumblr right after I binged season 1 & 2 of The Bad Batch and immediately fell in love with the wonderful world of fans and writers and artists here.

At first, I was a lurker, just a name that popped into the reblogs, but I began interacting more and more. I've brushed on this with a couple people (so sorry for repeating myself), but it was actually through reading fanfiction, that I came to terms with the fact that I needed to leave a 2.5 year relationship. It's not that I 'fell out of love' with them or anything, I just realized I didn't trust them as much as I should, I didn't want to share as much as I should, I wasn't being fulfilled in the ways I needed. And for that, fanfic authors, I thank you. Please never stop creating.

I also learned a lot about myself, get ready cause I'm about to get cheesy.

Hunter, you brought me a lot of comfort. I saw how heavy the wellbeing of your squad weighed on your shoulders. How you sacrificed and starved yourself, mentally and emotionally for their safety and benefit. I've lived that more times than I can count and with you, I didn't feel quite as alone in that experience. Even though we never talked, and we never will, I feel like you saw me. Crosshair, you healed some of my faith in humanity. That people can change, they can see the error in their ways and turn against a system they just sort of slipped into. You reminded me that healing isn't linear, and that's okay. You reminded me that courage and bravery aren't the absence of fear, but they are going and facing the mountain despite every atom in your body telling you to turn the other way. Echo, you reminded me it's okay to leave a group if your goals don't align. That it's not always an "in or out" situation. They can still be your family, people you rely on and who can rely on you even if you're not sharing bunks or meals anymore. You also reminded me that no matter how dire a situation is, or how grumpy you may be, a little humor goes a long way. Wrecker, you reminded me that people's perception does not define who you are. You can be big and gentle. you can love explosions and destruction and still be very intuitive. You can take some time to process things and still be skilled and intelligent. You reminded me to take joy in the simple things, a Lula, some Mantel mix, an ice cone. Things are always a little better with a full belly. Omega, you brought back some of my childlike innocence. You approached the galaxy with wide eyes full of wonder and always gave people the benefit of the doubt. You never lost hope. Even though you had to grow up too fast, you didn't let it break you, you still opened your heart to anyone who would see it. Tech, dear Tech. You reminded me to never dull myself or apologize for being authentically me. That my interests and skills are a good thing, no matter how niche they are. That I shouldn't be embarrassed or feel annoying for my knowledge or my eagerness to share it. You reminded me that love and humor and kindness and connection come in all shapes and sizes.

I've also made friends in this fandom at a level I wasn't even expecting to. I've made connections beyond the galaxy of Star Wars and found love and support in amazing ways. I was pulled to create more than I have in a long time, writing, drawing, hell even building my own server.

For sake of not clogging people's notifications, fighting with Tumblr's tagging bugs, and inevitably forgetting to tag someone: You all know who you are. Three M's, Havoc Marauder.

I began writing this tribute post before I watched the finale, and I'm finishing it after the finale. I'll end my ramble with this:

Dee and Michelle, thank you for bringing these characters to life over the last four years. You two really were the heart and soul of this project and your voices will forever ring true as Clone Force 99. Filoni, thank you for creating the concepts for this wonderful show that has become such a big part of so many people's lives. Brad, thank you for the immense work you've put into the show, your direction will not be forgotten. Jen, Joel, KinerBros, and Noshir (The Four Horsemen), y'all are a bunch of trolls and I hate you for it. I'm sending you my therapy bills. (I mean thank you for your work too, but you've been playing with my emotions for the past three months so forgive me if I'm a bit bitter)

It has truly been an amazing view. I don't plan on going anywhere, the fandom is just getting started, I am on the edge of my seat for all the wonderful fan creation that are yet to come.

CT-9901 ~ Sergeant Hunter ~ Havoc 1

CT-9902 ~ Tech ~ Havoc 2

CT-9903 ~ Wrecker ~ Havoc 3

CT-9904 ~ Crosshair ~ Havoc 4

ARC-1409 ~ Echo

Omega ~ Havoc 5

Clone Force 99 ~ Signing off 🫡

#the bad batch #star wars #tbb #tbb crosshair #the clone wars #tbb hunter #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb omega

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llyfrenfys · 1 year

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Some really good notes from my post courtesy of @margridarnauds about that person accidentally using a white nationalist slogan to support the Welsh language:

I know someone who is doing a PhD on the Far Right and the co-option of cultural movements and these tags are bang on. Its the difference between a healthy nationalism and an unhealthy nationalism. A lot of this goes for Irish nationalism as well as it does for Welsh nationalism.

There's nothing wrong with (and arguably a lot right with) minority language preservation. It can be used for great good (strengthens community ties, preserves culture) but if co-option is not guarded against readily, it can also be used for great evil (see: using minority language struggles as an argument against immigration, for example).

The Far Right sees the cultural preservation of anything (white) and it's like a bat signal. These things are magnets for white supremacists and assorted fascists of all kinds. Which is why it is so goddamn important to be vigilant against people like that hijacking your movement.

I see a worrying amount of Welsh nationalists use (accidentally or not) the language of the far right to argue for Welsh language preservation. It can be as innocuous as advocating for a Welsh Academie Francaise to as obvious as insinuating that Wales must be kept "ethnically" Welsh in order to keep out foreign influence on the language. I see this go unchecked all the time in various Facebook groups for Welsh independence (most of which I've left since admins of these pages either don't know or don't care that people use their groups to share these sentiments).

Nationalism ≠ Fascism - but if you don't keep an eye on the company you're keeping, any well-meaning nationalist/independence or language preservation movement can be hijacked to promote hate. I only know a scant amount because I was only vaguely considering joining Yes Cymru a few years before they all went sideways (but I remember Owen Exie Hurcum talking about this on Twitter at the time) but the leadership of Yes Cymru began to squeeze out minorities from the group- nonwhite folks, gay people, trans people etc. Whole thing put me off from joining. I don't remember the full details but from the testimonies of others, the group was hijacked and steered into a reactionary way of being. Considering a large amount of Welsh nationalists also idolise groups like the FWA (Free Wales Army - a Welsh nationalist group formed in 1963 which tried to emulate the IRA in Ireland, with little success- mostly just playing paramilitary dress up) - whose symbol is this flag:

Even if the flag itself is based on Welsh folklore and is supposedly an entirely innocent, non fash design- it still is like a beacon to the Far Right who will take any amount of symbolic validation as a cue to join your movement and derail it for their own ends.

Which is why Celtic scholars, people with casual interest in Celtic languages and/or their respective cultures and civic nationalists alike need to be vigilant against those who would co-opt the field for their own twisted hate campaign.

So, one final thought,

Returning to my original post responding to that American chiming into Welsh politics from overseas. Please PLEASE be careful when wading into politics that isn't yours. Where the Far Right are involved, it doesn't take much to cause a dumpster fire - if you aren't 'on the ground' with these issues so to speak, you aren't in the firing line if your comments go sideways and enable/provoke the Far Right in this country.

If you have an interest in Celtic languages, countries and politics- you have a duty to be responsible with what you do and say. This isn't to say that you cannot engage with these topics- but that you should exercise caution lest you accidentally worsen an already delicate situation.

This has been your regularly scheduled Celtic anti-fascist tedtalk. Please reblog to make sure more people become aware of how delicate things can be and how to prevent fascists from getting a foothold in this field. Thank you.

#cymraeg #Welsh #Gaelige #Irish #Luke's originals #antifascist #pleass reblog

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reachartwork · 5 months

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still looking for artists

since i have a lot more followers now than last time i posted it;

i'm still looking for artists who would like to collaborate with me on a comic adaptation of chum. i am willing to handle the process of turning the existing web novel into a comic script. if multiple artists are interested i'm not averse to handling a paneling-inking-coloring sort of situation for increased rates of production, but let's not get too ahead of ourselves.

while i do not make a ton of money this *is* a paid job offer, i'm not interested in having people work for me uncompensated and i don't believe in paying people for "exposure". we can negotiate per-page rates as we chat - i'm committed to paying people their fair share for their work without lowballing even if it means i need to save up between issues.

having a consistent, professional art style and the ability to deliver relatively on-time without nannying are the only two requirements. being good at drawing action scenes and having an interest in superheroes helps. i've had many, many projects that have gotten bottlenecked by artist collaborators just... not doing it after the planning phase, going radio silent for months, and then being like "oh i forgot let me get right on that :)" and i don't want this to be another one.

if you're not interested but know people that would be, please feel free to forward this to them. if you don't know anyone, reblogging for reach would be appreciated. thanks

#classifieds #job opportunity #art #comic #comics #comic art #superheroes

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katiemods · 2 years

Text

The One With All The Romance - Mega Interactions Mods (Beta version now available for patrons )

Just another sneak peak! This time, of the Enemies to Lovers menu.

Enemies to Lovers: These are interactions that may look mean or like your Sims are arguing, but they build on romance and friendship relationship tracks. Because deep down, they actually like each other and just don't want to admit it! (I know, I know... This isn't the healthiest of dynamics, but I have to admit it's one of my favorites)

These interactions will only be available for Sims who are declared enemies or have a negative enough relationship.

The interactions will lead to varied moodlets and sometimes a dialog via a notification.

Adds a new mood "Annoyed" that is not angry, but flirty. It's that good old "you're annoying, but you're cute" mood.

Other Planned Features:

Break Ups: Break Up with a Sim for a specific reason (e.g. cheating, falling out of love, incompatibility, frequent arguing, etc). Different reasons will lead to different reactions.

Get To Know: Have conversation starters to keep your interactions more interesting. (e.g. “What do you like to do for fun?”, “What would your dream date night be?”, “Tell me about yourself”, etc)

Choose which pick up line or compliment you want to use when flirting with another Sim.

You can talk about Relationship Milestones such as moving in together, saying I love you for the first time, having children, meeting the parents, etc.

Tired of asking things nicely? Argue about it! Have a variety of Arguments that will have a negative impact on the relationship. (e.g. “We never have fun anymore”, “Why are you so jealous?”, “Who are you texting?”, “Why am I never a priority for you?”, etc)

Arguing too much? Maybe it’s time for a break up. Different reasons for Break Ups will result in different responses.

There was a lot of interest on this mod based on my other post, so I'm now prioritizing getting this one out.

Still though, since there are sooo many moving parts to this, I will probably only be able to release the full version around March-April. Please bear with me, guys!!!

And if you want to help inspire me, please reblog and like this post so I know there is continued interest <3

*** NOTE: The Beta version of this mod is now available on my Patreon. It is playable, but still in testing so minor bugs are possible. Please keep that in mind before downloading ***

Click here if you want to make my day and support this mod’s development on Patreon ❤️

#sims 4 mods #sims 4 cc #sims mods #ts4 mods #sims 4 interactions #the sims mods #ts4 interactions #sims interactions #sims 4 custom content #sims cc #the sims cc #the sims 4 custom content #ts4 cc #ts4 #the sims #sims #sims 4 #sims 4 moods #sims moods

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 4 days

Note

Hello! I found this small but really interesting ask about some comments Alya made in Origins about Adrien that Imthepunchlord answered a long while ago, and I’d love to also hear your thoughts on the points that they and the asker brought up! Please feel free to put your thoughts directly in a reblog if you like the post enough to add to it instead of answering this ask since that would probably be convoluted.

https://imthepunchlord.tumblr.com/post/651542468774526976/i-just-rewatched-origins-and-i-cant-stop

(link to the post in question)

I don't have much to add. @imthepunchlord summed the issue up really well at the end of their post, "what is 'in character' is up for debate most of the time."

These kinds of character analysis questions just aren't possible in Miraculous. The characters are wildly inconsistent, so you're not taking a well crafted story and pointing out how it all flows together. You're taking a slapdash story and twisting yourself into a pretzel to try to make it all make sense. Hard pass. That's why I just focus on the character's core and ignore a lot of the nonsense that canon pulls. It's not that I want to deny canon. It's that you cannot embrace all of canon and write a good story.

However, you all know that I love to play fix it, so let's give Alya some sugar and talk about how you can write her character to make her reactions to Adrien make a little more sense. I don't think that canon has thought her through this much, but this approach really fits her character and I love it! For those who don't want to follow the link to the original ask, we're looking at this bit of dialogue:

Marinette: Okay. I get it. Good job, you three. Very funny. Adrien: No, no, I was just trying to take this off! Marinette: Oh, really? You're friends with Chloé, right? Adrien: Why do people keep saying that? (Marinette huffs; he goes to his seat) Chloé: Now do you see what I mean about respect? Marinette: I know I've seen him somewhere before. (sees images of Gabriel and Adrien Agreste on Alya's cellphone) Of course! He's the son of my fave fashion designer, Gabriel Agreste! Alya: Daddy's boy, teen supermodel, AND Chloé's buddy? Ha! Forget it.

And trying to make sense of how Alya goes from this to being the head of team Adrienette. The obvious answer is that something happens off screen between Origins and the main part of canon, but let's go a little deeper than that.

A lot of people approach Alya as a reporter. A truth seeker. A fact finder. That approach isn't wrong, it may even be how canon wants you to read her, but it's not the approach that I like to take. Whenever I have time to really flesh Alya out, I go a slightly different route.

To me, Alya is a story teller. She wants the stories she tells to be accurate, but she can easily get caught up in a narrative and forget to take a moment to check her facts. A good reporter watching the above exchange would go, "If Adrien is a bully, then why did he protest his innocence? What's the real story? Who can I talk to in order to get the facts?"

A story teller may still do that, but they may also take Chloé's earlier bullying along with Adrien being Chloé's friend and come up with a very believable story about Adrien being "Daddy's boy, teen supermodel, AND Chloé's buddy." It fits the facts that the story teller knows and they don't have a reporter's instinct question everything. They'll only start to question their version of the story once a hard fact pops up that goes against the story.

The reason I like this approach is that Alya is the chosen of Illusions. That's not a great fit for a truth seeker. Illusions is a much better fit for someone who is drawn to stories. A person who values the truth, but who isn't driven by it. A good reporter is driven by truth. A good story teller is driven by the call of a good story.

If we take that approach and look at Alya's actions in Origins, then we see that she had a story in her head and was happy to fit the pieces into that story until Adrien did something that no longer fit the story. That's when the "ask questions, get the real story" instinct kicked in, leading her to discover that she'd misjudged Adrien. It would have been nice to see that happening on screen, but Origins didn't have time for that so we're just left wondering what changed Alya's mind and making up various stories to explain it.

You can also take Origins and use it as the start of an arc where Alya learns to be a better reporter by not jumping to conclusions since she does a lot of jumping to conclusions in season one (and even does it on occasion in later seasons). But you don't need to give every character a strong character arc like that and I enjoy letting Alya be solid as-is. I tend to tone down her jumping to conclusions issues and make her more open to giving things a second look.

This is extra true because Marinette has a pretty clear problem with snap judgments, so I don't want her and Alya to have the same flaw. I want Alya to be more unique in her flaws. It's not that she jumps to conclusions, it's that she's a little too quick to stop asking questions once she has a believable narrative. It's in the same vein as Marinette, but still it's own thing. It's also still a flaw that Alya needs to work on, but in a more nuanced way where it also acts as a strength under the right circumstances such as when she's in the field and needs to come up with illusions on the fly.

I cannot say if this is what canon is trying to do with Alya. The bones of this read are there, but the bones of the reporter read are also there. I just like this read more. It doesn't drastically change Alya, it's just a minor nuance that makes her fit into her place in the story with a little more grace.

#anon ask #alya deserves better #ml writing critical #ml writing salt #sorry that it took me so long to answer this one #I kept thinking that I had nothing to add but I left it in my inbox in case I eventually changed my mind #And today I suddenly read it and had a thought #so here you go!

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lucyandthepen · 1 year

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last eden - i . | lmh

part i, ii, iii

only one thing has ever mattered to you, in this lifetime, and in all others : mark lee — even if he doesn't know yet, and even if he may never remember.

pairing: mark x reader verse: canon/idol!verse, soulmates trope rating: T warnings: none, possibly some mild language, like... one very tame mention of making love ig word count: 4.3k

A/N: yeah i have a lot of these fics that i'm repurposing that i desperately want to post so i can continue them so please look the other way at my random over enthusiasm i beg !! my only long-standing mark fic is actually gorgeous, and while we do love a good raunchy piece, i love mark way too much to keep it to just that. this was my first ever fic on my old blog, and i'm quite attached to the idea despite the fact that it's actually very difficult for me to write. i changed the name because i actually love this song by maktub (anything he puts out is gold to me), which i think generally fits the vibe of the story, so give it a listen if you're interested! so i hope you all enjoy this idol!verse soulmates fic! (help a gal out by reblogging, liking, and leaving a few kind words if you're so inclined!)

“This isn’t really your best idea.”

You know this. You’re fully aware of the possible and endless risks as well as the minimal benefits. But you have to go. The thing that Heehyeon, your roommate, doesn’t fully understand is that this could be your one and only shot, and it could mean life or death. And you know that sounds pretty dramatic, but it really is. you don’t really have all the details (when, where, how, the important stuff) but that doesn’t matter to you right now.

What really matters is that today is NCT’s comeback stage at M! Countdown, and you have to be there.

Unfortunately, this isn’t one of those things you have to go to because your a die-hard fan and you just have to support the group and do all those fan chants and lie to your mom about going to the library when you’re really staying over outside a company building for hours just to wave those silly, expensive light sticks that look like they came out of the factory a bit funny. Sure, NCT’s music was nice (enough), but that isn’t really the reason why you told your mom not to come over this weekend because you would be out on a company team building retreat (as if they actually do that). More than anything, you knew you had to take this chance to see him.

When you don’t respond, Heehyeon presses on with a firmer tone, as if she’s determined to convince you even though you both know nothing is really going to stop you at this point.

“Listen to me, _____________. You are going to a tightly-packed music show with at least a hundred other fans, and you are going to stand in the middle of that dense crowd and — and what? Stare up at him. That’s it. He’s not going to see you; that stage is so high up he’ll probably only catch a look at your forehead, and that’s if you make it up front. And since we both know you’re neither the tallest nor the luckiest person in the world, you know the odds are against you. You’re probably going to get pushed to the back, or stampeded, and it’s going to be messy, and you’re going to push, and they’re going to push you back, and your make-up is going to fall apart, or whatever. Is this really worth it?”

“I told you,” you try to sound patient, but the idea of being buffeted away from the stage by a large wave of sweaty bodies causes more discomfort than you had originally anticipated thanks to her colorful and supremely unhelpful description. “If being near the stage doesn’t work out, I’ll wait out back, near the exit, and —“

“Oh yeah, and ambush him. Because you’ll be the only one there, and because that’s totally safe.” She drops the slightly (well, pretty) judgmental tone when she sees your bottom lip quiver. “I’m not… I’m not saying you shouldn’t try to reach out to him. But this doesn’t sound like the best way, _____________. Security is so tight there, and NCT’s security is even more wary. Even if you do manage to get close, what in the world are you going to say?”

“I— I’ll figure it out once I’m there.” You purse your lips; surely I love you; we’re meant to be together wouldn’t be that hard on your end, but the more important question is: did it sound sane? You didn’t express this doubt, though. Doing so would give your roommate more ammunition to turn back at you; you’d play it by ear when you actually got around to making eye contact with him (if that ever happened at all). And — well, maybe you wouldn’t have to say anything. Maybe, just maybe, this time, he’d remember you.

At that thought, you feel an initial wave of laughter, closely followed by a second, much more painful wave of nausea. Of all the absurd things you could think of, that was probably the most ridiculous.

“This isn’t a good idea,” she recapitulates, shaking her head. “You know what they do to people who stalk idols and say they’re really going to get married to them, or whatever. You know what they’d call you.”

“But I’m not crazy like that,” you argue.

“I know that, but they don’t know anything about you! You’d be labeled a sasaeng. They’ll probably think you’re one of those girls that sneak into their dorms and sniff their underwear before selling them on the dark side of Taobao through a weird Chinese proxy or something.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” You ball your fists at your side, feeling a little betrayed. Heehyeon, of all people, should be able to understand why you had to do this, even if it was ludicrous. She had remembered you, reached out to you before you could even place her. She’d heard your story, understood that you had been waiting years for this moment, even stopped you on other occasions when you were about to do the same thing you were planning now, saying it wasn’t the right time. “I don’t have any other way of contacting him. I don’t even know if this is going to work, but you know I have to try, and I feel like this is the right time. I have to see him. I have to — I have to be with him. I don’t need your blessing to go, you know.”

There’s a palpable tension hanging over you now, and Heehyeon’s expression has gone mostly unreadable, save for that twinge of worry still present in her gaze. The soft sound of regular, heavy exhales punctuate every few seconds that pass, and you realize a little later that it’s your breathing, which has turned a bit heavy from the energy spent sort-of yelling at your roommate.

“I know that,” she finally sighs. “I know that, _____________. I just wish you used a different way. Like, a safer, less crazy one.”

“I would use one if there were one.” You frown. “I’m not going to do anything stupid, like attack him. I would never do that.”

She doesn’t say much anymore, opting to watch you instead as you stuff a few more essential things in your bag. A hat. A fan. a bottle of water. Heehyeon had tried to coerce you to buy one of those cheering kits with those slogans, but you didn’t want to waste your money on it, and, truthfully, you didn’t want his name hanging on your walls like some sick reminder in case he rejected you.

“What did you tell your manager?” She asks in a clear attempt to lighten the mood.

“I told her I was sick. You know she never really asks as long as I find someone to substitute for me,” you sling your bag over your shoulder, standing straighter. “How do I look?”

“Pretty damn healthy,” she notes. “But also kind of crazy.”

“I’ll see you tonight, Heehyeon,” you roll your eyes as you make your way out of the room. Before you close the door, she makes one last quick remark.

“Not if I see you on the evening news first!”

You have to take two buses to get to Sangamsan-ro. Even though the traffic is generally mild, the buses make too many stops and wait too long for old ladies with their fruit baskets and newspapers to get on. The wait is making you anxious, and you think about getting an orange to abate your growing hunger, but you’re also so nervous that you’re sure you’re going to spew it all out onto the bus floor anyway. So, you content yourself with listening to music and fiddling with your fingers in your lap.

All you have in your phone is NCT’s music. The files were so large that you’d had to delete everything else you used to listen to and a handful of pictures too (mostly selfies that would have never seen the light of day, anyway) just to get them to fit. You used to only listen to the Korean versions, but you’d found all these little nuances in how Mark raps his lines depending on the language, so you’d started listening to the English and Japanese releases too, even though you can’t understand a lick of anything but ‘baby.’ Most of the time, you skip over to the relevant (see: Mark-filled) parts, already having memorized their timestamps to a kind of sick degree.

It was kind of dumb, and sort of selfish, but you had never really identified yourself as an NCT fan anyway. If you had been an active part of the groups following, people would have probably called you an akgae. You were really only concerned with one member, and it was that member’s voice that filled your ears when you’d plugged your earbuds in and put the volume up.

The first time you’d seen him was in your last year of college. One of your college friends had asked you to accompany them to a Nature Republic outlet downtown. Despite your general lack of interest in make-up at that point in time, you’d gone because she’d promised to buy you a corndog. What you’d gotten instead was a large standee of a handsome guy smiling at you and holding out a pot of aloe vera gel.

You knew his eyes. Even though his features changed a million times in your memory, you could never mistake his eyes for anyone else’s — soft, warm, brown eyes that you’d stared into for truly an eternity. His were eyes you could never forget, were never allowed to forget. You could remember the millions of times they’d smiled up at you in those past lives you were haunted with, twinkled with mischief and laughter in your presence, borne deep into yours on hot summer nights as you made love. Of all the uncertain things in all of the lives you remembered living, these eyes acted as your anchor.

You’d almost forgotten you were there with a friend until she’d called out to you, telling you to step inside the shop. Trying to sound disinterested despite the fact that your heart was pounding, you asked who the guy in the standee was. Mark, she’d called him. Mark of NCT. He was an idol, a rapper in one of those up and coming groups that was starting to gain a lot of attention within the general public because of their ‘cool, chic concepts.’ At that information, your heart had fallen into a pool of acid in your stomach.

Other times were hard, but not this hard. Most of the factors that had kept you or torn you apart were much larger in scale — war, famine, other natural disasters. This, out of all the other times, seemed to be the most difficult; he wasn’t an ordinary man anymore, but a god among men — a god you couldn’t be allowed to approach. You had ditched your friend the moment she’d gotten her change back at the counter, citing a sudden time of the month as the root cause, and dashed out and back to school, sparing only one last glance at the standee.

You’d been waiting for him for years, carefully looking for any sign of him in the people around you, but you had grown tired and had come to believe that maybe, in this life, you had been set free — that he didn’t exist, and the curse would be over. However, as you pored over each and every teaser, music video, advertisement, and blurry, noise-heavy radio interview you could find even a sliver of his face in, you realized that the curse had come back, and in a much larger force than you could ever imagine.

You’d stared at your desk for the longest time that day; the sun had dipped out of sight already when you’d sighed yourself out of your trance. It had never been this difficult. Having the Memory was mostly the worst thing ever, but its usual perk was that you could pick him out a little easier, and he was never too far away — nobody you ever knew in your first life ever was. They just kept coming up again and again, running around in little circles throughout time and space, and you recognized them in a way you’ve come to grow familiar with. It’s a tug, sort of like a tickle in your stomach, and you knew then that he was close by. The signal only stopped when you found him, and it usually wasn’t that hard. From there, you were responsible for weaving the same kind of story — one in which you would fall in love, be happy for a period of time, and then… well.

Heehyeon has the Memory, too. She’d remembered you from a previous life, too, and picked you out of a packed line at a coffee shop, striking up one of the most awkward conversations you’d ever had the displeasure of being a part of because she hadn’t been sure if you remembered her. It was only when she mentioned that you seemed like someone she could be good friends with and that you also seemed like you just happened to like your coffee black with two sugars did you realize that her sudden onslaught of friendliness was a sign she might be like you: unable to forget. She’d actually once asked you if you’d tried just letting him go, and you’d responded with a resolute no. At this point, it was too hard to call him a lost cause, even if he really seemed it. How could you stop loving someone you know you’ve loved for millennia?

He’s extremely handsome in this life, you’ve noted. Girls were falling all over him, which only made things ten times harder. A couple of years back, some rumors of him dating a labelmate had come up. Heehyeon had talked you through that long night of you clutching tissues in a fist and sobbing about how you didn’t want this anymore, how it was never fair, how every single time you had to find him was just growing more and more difficult until it seemed to reach an impossible arc. But, mostly, you’d cried because you hated the possibility — probably the confirmation — that he didn’t remember you at all.

You didn’t really expect him to, but you always hoped. Every life, you would approach him, and he would be a clean slate. It was a tiring process, one you wished you weren’t constantly responsible for. Some days, you resented him; how could he live his life carefree, without even the notion that you two were meant to be together? Most days, though, you just longed for him. Him, and a happy ending.

You let out a sigh as the track changes. His voice greets you again; over time, you’ve noticed it sounding even cooler, more impactful. He’s doing well for himself. And here you are, attempting to make yourself stand out in a pool of fans he probably can’t even see clearly. Nice.

You get to listen to about half of the newly released album before you realize you’re nearing your stop. Sidestepping a couple of baskets of oranges, you make it to the door and dash out. Heehyeon had drawn you a crude map to CJ E&M, and you’d been skeptical of it at first, but you realize now you would have gotten lost and missed the stage long before you got there if you had gone in blind. You’d make sure to thank her when you got back. If you did actually come back in one piece.

Heehyeon also hadn’t been joking; the line outside looks like it would fill a whole section of Jamsil. You’d heard of the dedication of some of these fans, but you’d never seen it like this, nor had you ever actually been a part of it. Kids were really up at three in the morning in support of NCT. Many of them are probably here specifically in support of Mark, you think. Sure enough, the people you line up behind are holding holographic slogans with the print “Mark-yah!” You swallow hard, trying not to regret your decision not to partake in that.

It feels like hours before you get even close to the door of the building. The chatter has died down a little, but not by much; even with less people ahead of you, the noise pollution increases in tandem with the excitement in the atmosphere. You’re not excited, though. You’re sick to your stomach, wishing you hadn’t come alone and wondering if you were going to regret this. Probably. Luckily, a couple of teenagers behind you strike up a casual conversation starting with “ah, it’s getting more humid now,” and you take turns complaining about what the weather would probably be like later on in the day before you start talking about NCT. They’re both Jaehyun fans, and you think about whether or not you remember meeting him in a past life. Nothing really rings a bell.

When you tell them you’re here for Mark, they giggle.

“We know,” they chime. “You’re wearing blue.”

“It’s his favorite color,” you say, a little defensively.

“Everyone knows that. Everyone here wearing that ocean blue is a Mark fan. Didn’t he say so once?” They dissolve into laughter again, but you say nothing. Maybe he had said that recently. Then again, his favorite color has always been blue — the color of the sky and the sea he seems to love so much.

The line grows shorter and shorter, and your ankles feel like they’re starting to swell. You’ve been standing for a good two hours now, and you regret not having bought one of those NCT membership cards that get you up to the front of the line. It’s really no surprise that you, the two Jaehyun fans, and the others in the line behind you are all squished in the back, just like Heehyeon had said you would be. It takes a good twenty minutes before the lights dim down and the stage lights start up, and you hear the buzz that increases in volume right before it becomes a collective deafening shriek from the crowd. The light sticks go up, and you’re momentarily blinded by the large stars that blink NCT in some weird logo form before you get your bearings again. By that time, the members have begun trooping onto the stage in a single file, and you forget your swollen ankles as you tiptoe and crane your head for a better view.

He’s there, your mind screams. He’s right there. You’ve got a whole crowd in front of you, but he’s right there.

The Jaehyun fans are losing their mind too; he’s talking, asking them how they found the album and encouraging them to keep supporting it. Typical idol stuff, you assume, but the fans go wild in an attempt to reassure him that they will. They all speak in a line, and you note Mark will be last. When the mic is handed over to him, the fans start screaming again. You feel like you want to yell as well, except you’re not sure if you’ll say something actually coherent that other people will hear. Instead, you tiptoe a little higher, fixing your pretty bad eyesight on his face and perking your ears up.

“You’re all here so early,” he starts. “How long have you been waiting for us?”

A flurry of numbers fly across the room. He smiles in this genuinely affectionate way even though his eyes can’t focus on a single person in the dark, and your heart stutters at the sight.

“Do your mothers know you’re here?” He’s teasing now. “You can’t tell them that NCT is the reason you’re not sleeping well, you know. Everyone, make sure that you eat breakfast and rest well before school today, okay?”

While the crowd screams in response, you let out a little whimper. It’s a weak, pathetic sound, but it essentially sums up how you feel, seeing him like this from so far away.

The pre-recording starts, but you barely catch anything. You’re too small for this kind of life, and you get so tired of tiptoeing that you actually do try to push your way through the crowd. Of course, this is fruitless, and you end up squatting by the back wall of the room, sipping on your water conservatively and listening to the Jaehyun fans do the chant religiously.

NCT performs the song two more times before they’re saying their goodbyes. You muster up the energy to stand again and make a beeline for the exit before everyone else can smash their way through. The sun is almost up now; beads of sweat form on the nape of your neck as you round the building, trying to find the indicated spot that Heehyeon had marked as the back exit of CJ E&M. You worry about how you’re in the wrong place for about ten minutes until you see the two Jaehyun fans turning the corner quickly, obviously with the same goal as you: to catch NCT as they leave the building.

In no time, the fans have gathered at the spot again, and it seems like they’ve multiplied tenfold; the chants are louder and there are girls with gigantic cameras trying to shove you away from the spot. Security from the company camps out in front of you, their gazes shifting from the door to the crowd and back again.

People around you roar the moment the doorknob turns. Nine of them file out, now in regular clothing, surrounded by their own security. You feel a surge of force behind you, trying to push forward, and someone’s camera lens hits you hard in the side of the face. You barely have time to cry out in surprise, caught in what would have been a scream of pain, when you see him.

In the growing light, Mark looks like a king. No — like a god, actually. Everything on his face shines even when minimal sunlight strikes it; his teeth help, too, brightening his face as his mouth hangs open in an easy laugh. He’s talking to Doyoung and has to face him, his sharp jawline being the first thing anyone can see from that perspective, and it’s that angle that creates all these alarms in your head.

For some reason, you’ve blocked out the noise around you. Even the pain from the camera lens attack isn’t bothering you as much anymore; you feel like you’re in an aquarium, and all the screams are on the other side of the glass. Your vision tunnels; all you can see is him.

You’d promised Heehyeon you wouldn’t do anything stupid. Again and again, she’d asked you and drilled you and reminded you that you weren’t supposed to do anything that would get you into trouble. Even with those promises you’d made, she’d still doubted you. Later, when you’d tell her this story, she’d roll her eyes and yell I told you so!, because, well, she did tell you. And, when you’d look at it in retrospect, you’d see that you should have listened.

Right now, though, you’re walking. Somehow, the camera lens that had attacked you had turned its gaze onto much more important targets; the guard stationed in front of you grunted in pain and reflexively retracted his hand after the lens made contact with it. It wasn’t a long movement, but it was enough for you to be pushed forward by the crowd. Enough to get your feet moving.

Other fans had stopped trying to break through; though many were still hysterical, most were trying to take pictures of the members as they climbed into the van. One by one, they were disappearing before your eyes. No, you thought to yourself. Your chest tightened. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you think that the noise behind you has gotten much louder. Not now. He hasn’t seen me yet. Not yet, please.

You don’t realize that your feet have picked up the pace, and you’ve broken into a short sprint before the building security could catch you. It’s too late; he can’t leave his post, and he only has to hope that NCT’s staff are well-equipped to fend off a running girl. They are, but they’re too busy helping the members that they’re caught unaware — just long enough for you to be within an arm’s reach of them.

Mark is almost in the van; he’s caught off-guard, too, and he doesn’t realize that something’s not right until you’re already there. Security grabs his arm and tries to tug him out of your reach and into the van at the same time that a strong hand grapples at the back of your shirt. Doyoung, who had been by Mark’s side, tries to use his arms to shield you from his friend when he realizes who you are targeting, yelling out something you can’t really understand.

It’s a ten-second long struggle of limbs in which you hear your own “Let go of me!” harmonize perfectly with Mark’s frantic “What the —?” Somehow, though, you’re able to fight through Doyoung’s arms and grip Mark’s wrist with a sweaty palm. The contact causes him to turn back reflexively, eyes wide in shock.

His eyes. God, please, won’t he recognize me? Your fingers close around his wrist a little more tightly. Your mouth is dry, and your throat is on fire. You’re wasting precious time. You only manage out a weak, “Please, Mark, it’s me,” before he’s twisting his wrist away. The arm that gripped your shirt moves to lock around your waist, and you’re hauled, empty-handed, away from the van. Awareness you’d lost slowly trickles back into you. The crowd isn’t screaming at the members now; they’re screaming at you. They’re angry. As you’re dragged away, you vaguely note that the Jaehyun fans you were with are fuming behind the security guards still keeping them in place.

The security guard that carried you off like a rag doll plants you in front of him, and he lets go of your waist but still keeps his grip tight around both your forearms, which have been twisted behind you. You have no choice but to watch from afar as the members drag Mark into the van, looks of concern etched across their faces. They ask him if he’s hurt, and he shakes his head. Right before the door closes, he quickly glances back at you. Your heart sinks for the second time today as you see something in his eyes you’d never seen before.

Fear. Mark is afraid of you.

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