i don’t give any description of reader other than her being a woman, i just added this pic because he looks like such a little loser in it 😭 enjoy <3. the smut felt kinda rushed, sorry :( hoping to hear feedback i’m nervous!!!!!
tags: friends to lovers, ooc robbie??????, sub coded charlie, smut, oral sex.
cw: charlie being kind of a 🚩 (he’s like a crazy obsessed bf), all in all alarming behavior if he were to be a real person. so if you’re uncomfortable w that don’t read <3 it’s nothing too bad though don’t worry, just feel like i needed to say that.
The cliche of being the new girl came with all that one could expect; the questioning glances from curious people couldn’t wait to see if their first impression was indeed accurate, along with the rumors about the “real” reason she moved towns, and of course which clique was going to take her in.
The cinema club was always looking for new members but the old members tried to steer clear from engaging with anyone that seemed like they had the potential to screw things up. For various reasons but mainly because even though they were a level under the glee club, they were quite selective. Not just anyone was allowed to enter their carefully crafted ecosystem.
Voice traveled fast after she arrived at Woodsboro. The news reaches Charlie’s ears a few days before the school year started. Robbie acting as more of a member of the gossip club also known as the cheerleaders than the cinema club, called him an uneventful Tuesday night.
“Fresh meat,” he said.
Immediately Charlie wanted to laugh. Robbie tended to pretend like he was an expert when it came to women, like he knew how to get girls when that couldn’t be furthest from reality.
“Fresh meat,” Charlie mocked him, making his voice sound nasally. “It’s a girl man, she’s not gonna be too interested in whatever it is you’re trying to do.”
“What? Like you’re a fucking pussy magnet or something.”
“At least I don’t try and fail to get some,” the bickering continued.
Robbie insulted him some more before sighing.
✄
English class.
Having been sentenced by his undying love for Kirby to sit in front of her for years, he found himself yet again listening to her flirting with God knows who via phone call. Jill sat next to him, smiling at her and wiggling her eyebrows to match Kirby's smirk.
He was in the middle of letting out the most eye watering yawn of his life when he felt Jill slap his arm to get his attention.
“What is he doing?”
Robbie being the he in question.
Apparently he was indeed planning on getting with the new girl, if it wasn’t obvious by the way he managed to be the first one to help her find the only fucking classroom with a red door. The little fucker. He hadn’t mentioned the new girl looking like someone dragged her straight out of a fucking– vogue or whatever magazine that’s got the pretty girls on their pages.
They locked eyes and Robbie lifted one hand pointing at Charlie.
“Yo, move.”
What the fuck?
Was their friendship lacking that solid base that made Robbie willing to kick him to the curb just to impress a pretty girl?
“I can just sit in the back…”
“No it’s okay. I’ll take Robbie’s seat,” because fuck him really. He moved his things feeling a bit jittery knowing she was looking at him while he gathered everything.
✄
After a couple weeks of sticking to her like a piece of chewed up gum, Robbie had somehow managed to convince her to join the Cinema Club. It took a lot of begging on his part and Charlie was sure she accepted out of pure pity. Whatever the reason was, now he saw her in class and at club meetings.
Even though Charlie thought Robbie’s approach was rather pathetic, honestly the guy was trying too hard, he couldn’t help but put a little more effort in his looks when he knew her eyes were going to be on him.
One day as they waited for the others to fill the room she asked him, “did you put something on it?” As she looked at his hair.
“Uh– This– yeah! I saw this video of a dude putting like, mousse or something,” he responded. “He said it helped with curls… made them fluffy… yeah.”
“Looks bouncy,” and oh god, he could have died at that very moment.
He cleared his throat trying to ignore the few seconds of silence. She smiled and added, “Do you like your hair long? I noticed Robbie keeps it really short.”
“Yeah he’s lazy like that,” he smiled too when he heard her laugh.
Charlie saw her stand up and start walking to the desk he was resting against. “Can I ask you a favor?”
“Yes.”
She grabbed the bag on her shoulder and reached inside it pulling out a piece of paper. “Robbie gave me a list of movies to watch so I wouldn’t be lost when you guys talked about them,” she paused. “But I don’t know where to find them so I was wondering if you could help me with that. I don’t want to ask Robbie in case he gets the wrong idea since we spend so much time together already.”
“Umm, yeah, yeah. I can do that,” he would be a fucking fool if he rejected such an opportunity. He reached a hand to get her to pass him the list, “I think I have most of these at home…” he could feel her gaze on the side of his face. “I could, bring them tomorr– or you could go back to my place after school to pick them up,” she didn’t respond immediately and he realized what it had sounded like. “Not like that! Just– you know…”
“No I know, you’re not Robbie,” and she giggled, fucking giggled. She was teasing him. “Okay Charlie, wait for me after school then.”
✄
She looked out of place in his room.
Like if someone was playing house with only one Barbie and the rest of the things in his room were all from the Transformers universe. Not that Charlie was even slightly similar to Optimus Prime, he resembled a littlest pet shop figurine. If he were to be honest with himself.
“Sit anywhere,” Charlie suggested feeling jittery. She walked to his bed and sat down as she watched him rummage through the pile by his speakers.
He wanted to curl into a little ball and squeal because of how he could feel her gaze burning into his back muscles.
Charlie heard his bed squeak when she moved to find a more comfortable position. “Have you watched all those movies?” She asked, pointing in his direction.
“The ones here,” he patted the pile he was taking CDs from. “The ones I haven’t, are here,” he pointed to the other pile to the right.
“How many movies have you watched?”
“Like, ever?” She nodded. “I don’t know, like, around two hundred? I think?”
“That’s crazy Charlie, Robbie said he’s watched like a thousand.”
Well fuck Robbie.
He forced a laugh, “to be fair Robbie’s got like, a problem or something. I mean, a thousand really?”
As she stood up from the bed she replied, “I’m so relieved you have the movies I need,” and Charlie felt like exploding all over the room when she kneeled beside him on the floor. “I don’t want to be out of the loop,” she smelled like fucking flowers and… sex? No. Too raunchy of a word for a girl like her. Flowers and something alluring. Fucking pheromones.
‘s gotta be.
He was brought back from the brief mind fog he was experiencing when he heard her murmur a “mhm?”
Charlie stared at her with his mouth open for a second, “I’m sorry?”
“Can you hurry? I need to go home in a minute” she smiled. “Sorry.”
“‘s cool,” he reached to the side to grab a random tote bag he could find. “Strict parents?”
“Kinda yeah. I mean it’s only me and my dad so he’s super protective of me.” She moved to help him put the CDs and tapes in the bag, “especially around this time of year when it gets dark early.”
“Lots of creeps hanging around,” he teased her. “I’m joking, probably just Robbie live streaming again. Though I’m not sure what’s worse, a murderer or Robbie.”
She hit his arm while smiling, “he’s not that bad.” She paused. “He’s very nice to me, not creepy at all. He's just… you know, a teenage boy I guess.”
“Yeah.”
“And so are you,” she said as she looked him in the eyes.
A beat of silence. “… and so am I,” he quickly stood up and clapped once. “A teenage boy that will walk you home if you want him to, though.”
Her hand lifted in the air inviting Charlie to help her stand up. “Okay,” she smiled again.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
He had never been totally normal in the head, never quite correctly wired.
When he was four he had a stuffed whale he took everywhere with him. They ate breakfast together, it sat on the sink while his mom gave him a bath. He was so attached to it that when the stuffed animal needed to be washed, Charlie cried until his mom let him skip school so he could sit in front of the washing machine and wait for it to be done.
That would serve as a taste of the type of person he would become in the future. Now a senior in high school the only fitting transition from his stuffed whale to a more grown up fixation had to be the girl who was everything he wanted in a woman.
She was gorgeous and she seemed to enjoy spending time with him.
Ever since the day he walked her home Charlie felt on edge. No reasonable explanation to make him feel such an emotion other than the mutual mention they shared every time they had a conversation.
One of his redeeming qualities was his ability to know when the delusions were clouding his judgment. Being self aware comes in handy when one happens to be a social reject. So he knew he wasn’t making it up, he wasn’t imagining it. He wasn’t imagining the way she would let her fingers fiddle with the collar of his shirt as if it was an unconscious action, or how she had wiped a stray eyelash off his face.
The signs were there.
The doubt made its appearance when he asked himself if she was doing it because she did in fact find him attractive or if all the attention she gave him was part of some big plan to humiliate him. After all, he had fallen victim to something similar in the past.
He would set himself on fire if a pretty girl asked him to so he had to be careful.
It was exciting to think she could actually be interested in him. And maybe it was a long shot but fuck, if it didn’t feel good to hope for the best.
If he were to expand on the self aware side of his personality, he would be forced to admit he was quite the obsessive guy. He liked Kirby for years on end, nothing she did or said to him could make him kill his undying love for her. He used to lay in bed and imagine what perfume she liked to wear the most, he would fantasize about how soft her lips would feel against his. He knew what she loved and hated. She liked her hair short and neat, she liked making fun of scary movies and she specially sporty guys with a tan. In short, she hated everything Charlie was so he never bothered.
But he would really fucking love it if this time around things played out differently.
She was not Kirby.
She didn’t make him feel like a tiny ratty chihuahua begging his master for attention. She seemed him out. She asked him questions about whatever shitty movie Robbie told her to watch.
One could think someone treating him like a human and not a bed bug would make him finally snap out of it, that he would stop acting so needy. On the contrary, this girl seemed to have revitalized his psycho tendencies with a spark fueled by pungent desperation.
After about two weeks of befriending her he had started dreaming about her, not wet dreams, he wouldn’t even think about disrespecting her in that way. But every night before going to bed he gets under the covers with a smile plastered on his otherwise blank face, eager to indulge in the mostly harmless pleasure that is to escape to dreamland to experience what he desires the most.
He saw himself doing mundane things.
He takes her to get her done, then they go buy food to have a picnic. They sit on a blanket as they eat fruit, he looks down at her knees and he sees her pants stained green by the grass that surrounds them. They laugh and they kiss, they giggle in each others arms
Some nights he dreams of her running her hands through his hair, he feels the warmth of her fingers on his scalp. In his dreams he doesn’t fear waking up and forgetting what everything felt like, he can allow himself that small pleasure. In his dreams he writes a letter and he reads it to her. When he wakes up he wishes humans were capable of reading while dreaming that way he could replicate said letter. Maybe the words written down contain the key to make her love him.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
Word travels fast, but it travels even faster when you have a camera surgically attached to your temple.
The entire day, Robbie had been acting weird, and staring at Charlie, whenever the latter opened his mouth. And because Charlie is a bit of an empath himself, he instantly knew his infatuation had been noticed by his best friend.
“Fuck is wrong with you man,” Robbie confronted him.
Ever the coward, Charlie moved to the side trying to walk closer to the classroom door.
“Charlie.”
“Dude we’re gonna be late.”
There’s not gonna be a club if I kill you right now,” Robbie looked down at him. “Let 's talk.”
“Talk about what?” Asked Charlie, choosing to play dumb.
Robbie furrowed his eyebrows and snorted before looking around in disbelief. “Well I don’t know, maybe we should talk about how you’re trying to steal my girl.”
“What girl Robbie?”
“You knew, you fucking knew about it. I called dibs.”
Now it was Charlie’s turn to snort, “dude. How old are we? Five?” He paused. “She just– I don’t know, she’s fun and she doesn’t look like she wants to die when I talk to her. What was I supposed to do?”
“You’ve liked Kirby for years! Why the change?”
“Robbie it’s not that serious, lower your voice,” people were starting to stare. He saw a couple of girls stop by a locker clearly pretending to look for something just to eavesdrop. “It’s not like she’s with you right now…”
The other boys, through his hands in the air, “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“That I didn’t like– steal her from you or anything,” he grabbed Robbie’s shoulder and smiled. “Maybe I’m just her type man, nothing wrong with you,” he tried to make the joke land but as his friend blinked at him a beat slower that usual he felt a bit more anxious.
“You weren’t Kirby’s type and you’re her type?”
“…Robbie I was joking,” said Charlie with an awkward laugh. His eyes darted around taking notice of the increasing number of people around them.
“Well I’m not fucking joking,” he got closer to his face. “Stay away, I’m being serious.”
So Charlie was left to deal with the stares and the scratchy throat he got every time he felt embarrassed or humiliated.
The encounter was brief but it left him buzzing the rest of the day, people briefly glanced at him with a little smile on their faces as if they knew something he didn’t. As if he wasn’t present when it all went down.
And honestly fuck Robbie for feeling so fucking entitled. What if he liked her knowing Robbie wanted to get with her too? Out of everyone that lived in Woodsboro the one that was the most deserving of having her was Charlie. Nobody else had taken the time to memorize shit about her. They don’t know anything about her.
Charlie does.
In record time he had learned more about her than anyone in her life, that he was sure of. Because Charlie took people seriously.
So who did Robbie think he was?
All his life he had to settle for the bare minimum when it came to girls and the amount of attention they let him enjoy. Even fucking Jill, the only ever girlfriend he’s ever had, kept him as a secret because she was probably embarrassed to be seen with Charlie from the cinema club. In the past after their breakup, he dealt with a lot of anger whenever he started thinking about their relationship. He would wonder how big of a loser Jill thought him to be if she was comfortable letting him interact with Kirby even after knowing that for years he harbored a crush for her. It’s like she knew there was not a chance of him ever cheating. Or maybe she thought Kirby would never look at him twice. Whatever it was, Jill didn’t take him seriously.
There seemed to exist a pattern of people seeing Charlie as a filler character in one of those cringy Disney romance movies. The comic relief if you will.
No one ever made outright mean comments about his appearance or the things he liked, but that wasn’t because they respected him, it had more to do with the fact that his peers saw him as the silly guy. That silly guy you know, the one that wasn’t even worth ridiculing.
He was under the impression that he had found a friend in Robbie. They cheered each other up whenever the way people ignored them became too much. They both liked the same geeky stuff. But he was willing to let go of him if it meant he had a chance with the girl of his dreams.
What the fuck would Robbie even do with a girl like her. He then remembered him saying how annoying it was when girls put that sticky stuff on their lips.
As if he has ever kissed a girl, the fucking virgin.
She was always wearing makeup, she wasn’t the girl for Robbie. He could never learn how to properly be hers. On the other hand, Charlie already was. In body and soul.
So honestly, fuck Robbie for thinking showing his teeth and growling like a rabid dog would be enough to get Charlie to back off.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
He saw her at the end of the school day as he was putting his things in his backpack. She poked her head past the door frame.
“Hey,” Charlie greeted her.
“Hi. Already heard all about what happened,” she said, making a face.
“… yeah. Robbie’s always been a bit of a diva.”
She walked into the room at a slow pace.
“I feel like you were collateral damage. This morning he waited for me outside the school because wanted to talk,” her face looked kinda funny with how serious she was. So unlike her. “Would you believe me if I told you he professed his undying love for me.”
Charlie continues packing his belongings to look like he didn’t care. “How romantic.”
“It was really weird because he was live streaming the whole time.”
“That’s Robbie for you,” he jokingly said.
“Did he do the sa–”
“Oh no, no. He wasn’t live streaming when he tried to bite my neck open.” Charlie heard her laugh and he looked at her. She looked too guilty for someone that hadn’t done anything wrong. For what reason? He wondered. He hoped she wasn’t feeling guilty for rejecting Robbie. “It’s okay he didn’t do anything too bad. I just think he got the wrong idea, you know.”
“Mmm.”
“Because we’re not like that, Robbie’s just fucking crazy.”
He stared at her for a second longer, he noticed she had that snarky little smirk on her face once again. Once again he wasn’t allowed in the running inside joke she was always cheesing about.
“My dad told me to invite you over tonight.”
And she had the nerve to act like that wasn’t a wild thing to say.
“What?”
She laughed, “last weekend we watched two of the movies you recommended and he really likes them. I told him you’re a friend.
He is.
Charlie felt like Hulk Hogan, fight after fight coming his way. Letting Robbie yell at him in front of everyone was light work, but to risk his life by meeting her overprotective dad was a completely different way of self harm.
“I mean… why though.”
“I don’t know Charlie, maybe he was impressed by your taste in movies, you both have the same old man interests.”
“I also told him you were the same friend that walked me home the other day,” she bumped him with her shoulder.
“Did he call me a good boy for doing that?” He joked.
“Something like that,” she lifted a hand to grab a strand of his hair and she lightly pulled. “Come on, it’ll be fun and wholesome or whatever.”
He already knew he was going to accept but he was a little busy freaking out about what to wear or how to do his hair to voice out his answer. Sure his personality was great and he wasn’t sleazy like most guys his age but he was aware that his looks were completely the opposite of what a father would want for his daughter.
He was already thinking that far ahead.
Should he flat iron his hair? Wear a sweater vest?
“Is he gonna fucking shoot me or what?” He tries for a joke, adding an awkward giggle.
“Don’t make it weird silly,” she smiled. “We can watch a movie in my room after dinner.”
And okay, Charlie was what you would call socially inept but even his baby brain was able to pick up blatant offers such as that one.
“With your dad?”
“… no Charlie.”
He watches her exit the classroom leaving him to panic in the confines of his mind. He made his way to his house on autopilot.
₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
At first he fully intended to put his hair in a ponytail, he was set on looking as pristine as a seventeen year old boy could look. But as he stares at himself in the mirror the more he realized how a guy that wore a ponytail was definitely not her type.
It made him look like a food delivery guy anyway.
He opted for his usual hairdo. The famous “book that has been read halfway through” Parted down the middle. A button down and khakis, sneakers on his feet.
While he ties his shoelaces he kept thinking back to when he walked her home.
He could see her dads silhouette from afar, he was being illuminated by the lights on the porch. Dude not only sounded scary he was also built like a fucking tank. So Charlie only walked her as far as his faint heart would allow it. Close enough so her dad could see she didn’t walk home alone but not close enough that Charlie could see his face.
He was now wondering if that had been a good choice. What if he gave off cowardly vibes. Which would be a correct assumption but not one Charlie would like to make.
Those few hours before he made his way to her house he moved around in his room like a ghost on debt. His palms clammy.
The final product was the usual Charlie get up plus cologne. Because no man is respectable if he doesn’t smell like a car air freshener personified.
Her dad said a total of five sentences to him the entire evening, but Charlie didn’t sense bad vibes or anything of the sort so he wasn’t too nervous. The only thing that felt mildly threatening were the slaps on the back the man gave him every time Charlie said something a bit funny. His spine and ribs threatened to fall apart after every slap. But hey, he did call him son at least once. A win is a win.
The girl seemed to be a fucking witch or something. It was like she had swapped here dad for a humanoid alien because soon after dinner she had reminded him of the groceries he needed to buy for the birthday party of one of his colleagues at work (Charlie wasn’t entirely sure, he was too busy staring at her tomato sauce stained lips), and her had just stood up and left. He left them home alone.
He dared leave his beautiful teenager daughter home alone with a dude that even knew the perfume she wore. Granted he wasn’t aware of said fact, but still.
Charlie counted his blessings.
She walked her dad to the door and he left after telling her to lock the door until he came back. Charlie would try to make an analogy about him leaving his daughter trapped with a lion inside the house if it wasn’t for the fact that he felt like the prey.
When she came back he was sitting on the couch with his hands under his thighs.
“…so.”
“…so,” she mocked him with a silly voice. “Charlie, can I ask you something?”
“Yeah.”
She waved her hand signaling him to scoot over to make space for her to sit down. “Are you and Jill still together?”
“Wha– what the fuck– who told you about Jill?”
“Is that a yes?”
He stood up from the couch as if it was burning him, he knew his failed relationship with Jill was going to come back and bite him in the ass. “No, what? We– not… anymore.”
“Okay, calm down Charlie,” she was quick to smile and pull him by the arm. “Just that it would be really awkward if I had been imagining it all.”
Imagining what.
“Imagining what,” he repeated out loud.
“Imagining us flirting like middle school kids for like the past, two weeks?”
He wasn’t sure if he was about to pee or explode all over the living room. He had a plan and timelines to follow until he was ready for his feelings to be out in the open like this.
“Ah… Th– I’m not with Jill anymore.”
She pulled at his arm again and he sat back down. “I’m sorry, just that I’m trying to figure out if you were secretly a player all along.”
He laughed. “Definitely not a player.”
“Robbie told me.”
“Man fuck Robbie,” he paused. “I could tell you so many things about Robbie.”
She moved even closer to him and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “Charlie I don’t care about Robbie,” she made another move on him and grabbed his sweaty hand. “Don’t think too much about it, I orchestrated this whole fucking thing just to get my dad out of the house tonight.”
He looked down at his lap. “I’m so confused right now.”
“How long do you think it takes someone to buy groceries and birthday balloons?”
“I’m a virgin.”
“Charlie I know!”
“You know?”
She giggled as she tucked one of her legs under herself, touching Charlie’s thigh with hers. “Look at you Charlie, of course I know.”
“Did Robbie–?”
“Shut up.”
“Okay, yeah.”
She hadn’t let go of his hand so she dragged him with her when she laid back on the couch. He awkwardly tried to get comfortable in between her legs.
Looking down at her he wondered if all the trials and tribulations he had endured were needed to be able to see such a woman gazing up at him. Her hands always seemed to find themselves worrying with his untamed hair, she was pushing it back, away from his face.
“I don’t mind it,” she said.
“Huh?”
“I don’t care that you’re a virgin, it’s kind of charming actually.”
If it was said by anyone else he would have taken it as mocking, but she had never looked down at him for stuttering or sometimes avoiding eye contact.
“I’m about to be really charming. I don’t know what the fuck to do,” he noticed her eyelids sparkled under the pendant lamp hanging over them. She was so dreamy he would believe her if she told him they naturally did that and that it wasn’t make up.
“As long as you don’t think about Jill while kissing me…” she teased him.
He hovered his lips over hers before whispering, “never.”
They kissed and it wasn’t something cheesy and corny like you hear kisses be described in the movies, no sparkles or fireworks being set off. Instead Charlie felt hot all over and he had to cut the kiss short to take a deep breath. He noticed her moving her gaze all over his face.
“Again?”
“Yes please.” He replied.
He was supporting his weight on his forearms and she had one of her hands on his shoulder while the other one rested on the side of his neck. They kissed again and he was so aware of everything happening at the moment, he tried not to breathe too much on her face, he didn’t want his arms to give out and to squish her. Too much happening all at once, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
He felt the corners of her lips curving up when she noticed him pulling away for a second to catch his breath. If it wasn’t for the suffocating heat that was located in his pants he would describe the make out session as overall quite wholesome.
Next time he pulled away she held his face with both her hands, “you’re all red.”
“Oh yeah, it happens.”
“When you kiss Jill?”
He tried not to laugh but he couldn’t hold his smile so he retaliated by tickling her. He dived in again with more confidence now that their lips had warmed up against each another. His arms not being used to exercise or effort of any kind were starting to go numb so he moved to lay on his side. She was quick to get comfortable and mirrored his position all without stopping their kissing.
Feeling the tiniest bit bolder, Charlie grabbed her thigh and made her position it over his waist. He wanted her to consume him whole. The hair on his hairline was starting to stick to his forehead, and of course she noticed this.
“Are you hot?”
“A little yeah.”
Her hands pulled at the collar of his button down, “take it off.” She helped him slide it down his back and she threw it under the coffee table, the rush of it all made him laugh. “Not that I don’t like this but I really want to get to the good part.”
“Th– yeah, yeah. Cool. Okay.”
Whenever he felt uncertain about something he chose to copy what others around him were doing, the same thing was happening at that moment. He rose up with her and he watched her slip her clothes off.
She started by standing up and unbuttoning her pants and sliding them down her thighs, he watched her as she rushed to get rid of them. When she noticed he wasn’t moving she looked at him and said, “come on Charlie. You want me to undress you too? Like a little baby?”
“Yeah, no, sorry.”
She softly laughed and helped him with his pants anyway. And god, Charlie could have burst into flames from the sheer panic and excitement he felt when her hands made contact with the skin on his legs.
“I don’t– fuck I’m sorry, I don’t know what to do,” he lamely tried to excuse himself.
She seemed to ignore his words and didn’t bother to acknowledge them, she stood in front of him almost completely naked– she had kept her bra and her flowy blouse. As he paused for a second to take in the sight in front of him he let himself put his panic aside. He had gotten this far so she was clearly into him, he doubted his lack of experience was going to be a turn off.
Taking advantage of the moment of confidence he reached to touch her waist weakly pulling her towards him.
She moved to straddle him, “I know, I don’t care.”
They kissed again but this time around she moved from his lips all the way down his body. Her hands found his cock before her lips reached it.
“Woah– what, wait you don’t have to.”
“I kinda do, I don’t have lube. Do you?”
“Of course not, sorry.”
And fuck, during all the time he had known her he had never dared fantasize about her in any sexual scenario so he had nothing to compare to what he was seeing. She stopped for a second to just look at him. The view was downright sinful. Her precious face looked all different types of beautiful. Innocent, her eyes seemed glossy and alert. Expectant, for what was to come. And aroused, for what she was about to do.
“Don’t pull my hair,” she said.
And he wasn’t even thinking about doing it, how could he, when it was her job to pull his. The only one allowed to mess up anyone’s hair was her.
Instead he rested his arms on the backrest of the sofa. It felt programmed, the way he threw his head back the moment he felt the suffocating heat around his cock. He almost closed his legs on instinct.
“Ah–!” He moaned.
He knew she was only doing this to get him wet enough so they could fuck but he hoped she’d let him experience these feelings again sometime in the future. His own hand around his cock didn’t feel even remotely similar to the engulfing pleasure he felt all over his body, he thought nobody could compare to his own hands, after all who knew him better than himself? Oh but how wrong he was.
Attempting to regain some composure he tried to distract his mind by looking around the room, then down his body. The little makeup she was wearing on her lips was smeared down his chest and the marks disappeared before they reached where her lips currently were.
A failed attempt it was.
Her wet lips and the sounds they were making around him made him feel the pleasure from the tips of his hair down to his toes, it was strange and unlike anything he had ever felt.
She squeezed one of his knees before pulling him out of her mouth and going back to straddle him.
“I’m scared my dad is gonna knock on the door any moment now,” she said before coughing and when he looked at her lips he saw there was spit all around them so he wiped it with his thumb. “Sorry, it’s been a while.”
And for a moment she looked the tiniest bit embarrassed, Charlie wasn’t going to let that happen.
“It’s been forever for me you know,” she laughed and went in for a kiss but she stopped before their lips connected. “What?”
“Guys don’t like to kiss after you blow them.”
And that made no fucking sense to him, what. “Just kiss me, I’m scared, if you don’t kiss me I’ll die,” he joked.
“I like you a lot Charlie.”
He giggled like a fool so he covered his face with his hand. “Yeah.”
₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
For the first round she rode him because he could not, for the love of god, get the hang of it quick enough. He lasted for all of five minutes. With his ears still ringing from his orgasm he almost had a heart attack when they heard someone yelling outside.
Thanks to whatever higher power there was, it wasn’t her dad doing a war cry getting ready to kill Charlie.
“Neighbors,” she said, laughing in his face.
“Stop laughing. My dick almost went inside my body.”
Her loud laugh made his ears hurt a little but the joy he was feeling drowned any existing annoyance. “That would be bad because how would you fuck me again before my dad gets home?”
“What? Like, now?”
“Yes, now dummy,” she laid her back on the couch before she continued, “but I’m exhausted, let’s do it like this.”
“Okay… kinda like what you did but, like this. Okay. Yeah. I can do it.”
It was simple really. It was nothing but a change of angles. Yes.
They were both equally as sweaty but unlike Charlie she looked alluring with the small droplets of perspiration littering the expanse of her chest. He couldn’t help himself, his head lowered over the apex of one of her breasts. A bit shy at first, he left a peck there. Her skin felt feverish.
Her soft moan encouraged him to indulge in his desire to keep doing that for a bit longer but on her other breast. This time he licked her nipple and like clockwork her fingers rushed to tangle themselves in his hair.
“Fuck.”
“This okay?” He whispered. She hummed letting him know her answer was positive so he continued. He only let up when the skin around her nipples looked pinkish and closer to painful than tender.
“Wrap your legs around me, help me,” she obliged, drawing him closer to her. He went in for a kiss to get rid of the nerves he felt right before sliding inside her.
They moaned in unison. Waiting to get his confidence back he let himself stare at her yet again.
“What?” She asked, moving her head to the side, as if to avoid his gaze.
“You’re just really fucking pretty. I haven’t had the time to freak out,” at his words she looked back at him and she caressed his face with her hand. Before adding to what he had said he grabbed one of her knees to start moving, “I’m so happy.”
It all felt so domestic, the chatter while he lazily thrusted, the way they were smiling at each other, he loved it.
They didn’t talk for a brief while.
Charlie had a lot more control like this, now both of his hands were resting on the back of her thighs and he was thrusting with more of a rhythm. The sounds both of their bodies combined made were so flustering, wet and arousing. His cock had never felt quite like this, he honestly thought he could go for hours if it wasn’t for the impending doom of her dad’s arrival.
“Can I– Can I go faster please?” He waited for her to nod before putting more of his weight on his hands to be able to fuck her with more force.
He slid in and out in a frenzy, he felt like he would die if he stopped to take a breather, the sound of her loud moans were not helping at all. Now he couldn’t stop staring at her pussy and the way it glistened with their combined slick, the sight was sure to plague his mind in the days to come.
He never thought he would be allowed to fuck the girl he had been obsessing over for weeks. He no longer would have to imagine what her skin smelled like, or how she would move her lips when they made out. He knew now. This was the equivalent of having your third eye open.
“Fuck Charlie!”
“Yeah baby?” He laughed. “Can I call you that?”
“You can call me anything I don’t fucking care, just keep fucking me.”
He paused for a second before replying, “then, can I call you mine?”
She stopped mid moan to laugh out loud and squeeze his cheeks. “Shut up.”
His thrusts were becoming weak due to the fatigue in his legs so he went back to supporting his weight on his knees. “Can you turn aro–” before he finished his sentence she was already moving. And fuck, her face was pretty to look at but her ass was going to haunt his dreams until the day he died.
“Come on, fuck me.”
And even though Charlie was a virgin, painfully so, he always preferred to watch shitty porn if the couples in the videos were doing it doggystyle. Something about being able to grab a woman’s hips with more strength aroused him more than anything.
He made quick work of sliding back inside her and this time he didn’t wait for her signal to start moving. For just a moment he let himself forget all about being Prince Charming and he allowed the more animalistic and primal side of him to come outside to play. His hips collided with her plush ass making loud sounds, the unmistakable singsong of just two passionate lovers blinded by the suffocating heat of their linked bodies.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Ah! Charlie!”
“I know,” his voice came out whiny and desperate in tone. He wasn’t sure who was going to be the first one to let the tears flow down their cheeks. He felt like sobbing because of the overwhelming pleasure and other more innocent feelings in his heart. “Fuck I think I love you, what the fuck.”
His words seemed to make way for her pending orgasm from minutes ago before they changed positions. Her torso lifted up away from the couch and bumped into Charlie’s chest.
The sudden movement along with the cold feeling on his legs made him look down once again, he saw her leaking on his legs. Good god. “Sorry,” she tried to apologize when she noticed him with his head down.
“You keep on getting better huh?” Charlie rested his forehead on her shoulder. “You’re so fucking sexy, I’m going insane.”
They took a few seconds to catch their breath. She weakly massaged his scalp with her fingers. Charlie lifted his head from her shoulder to ask for a kiss.
“Pull out.”
“Mmm…” he groaned.
“Don’t be dumb, pull out so I can jerk you off. My dad’s been away for like an hour now,” He groaned again just to be funny. “Come on.
The sound her pussy made when he pulled out was nothing short of obscene. They were all sticky and sweaty. A mixture of bodily fluids that if it had been anyone else, Charlie wouldn’t have wanted them to touch his still hard cock.
She chose to sit on the carpet between his legs, the exhaustion was starting to catch up to her as well as she rested her face on her knees.
“It kinda hurts,” he said.
“Let’s make it stop then, yeah baby?”
At that he didn’t even bother voicing out his response, he just stared at her with her mouth open like he was trying to catch flies.
This time she didn’t need to add saliva to make the glide more pleasant, her juices had already taken care of that. Her hand closed around him and he felt like a virgin all over again, he was never going to get used to all her body parts touching him.
It didn’t take long before he lost control of his limbs, he was hunched over, gripping the couch cushions to keep himself from touching her as he didn’t want to bother her in any way.
“Ah– gonna cum,” he whined, his voice going higher than usual.
“Yeah? Gonna cum all over my fist?” He nodded like a dumb puppy. “Go on then. Don’t want my dad to find us like this right?”
“No baby, no. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” The tip of his cock was a painful red shade almost purple, he had been hard for far too long. “Ah– Please, it hurts.”
“I’m not doing anything to stop you.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry, fuck,” one of his hands was hanging in the air, clenching on nothing. She saw it and linked their hands together. He was looking at her so intently waiting for her to get the words he was trying to say, he nodded, his eyes glossy with tear.
“Wanna kiss me?”
“Uh-huh,” he dumbly said, nodding again. And as they kissed for the hundredth time that night she sped up the speed of her other hand.
His cum slid down her closed fist and he felt the tears he was holding in slide down his cheeks, wetting her face too in the process. She kept kissing him until he had stopped whining and panting so desperately.
₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
“Dad is gonna think an earthquake hit while he was gone,” she joked once they had parted.
Confused Charlie asked, “huh?”
“Look around, everything is messy. And my hands are all dirty.”
“Not only our hands, we’re all sweaty.”
“Right but we don’t have time to shower,” she pushed his sweaty and tangled hair away from his face. “So you’re gonna put your clothes back on and pretend nothing happened, like a good boy. Yeah?”
“…yeah,” he replied after a pause. “Like a good boy.”
“And I’m gonna do the same and wipe my hands clean with a napkin.”
It was like she had flipped a switch. In a quick moment she had changed back to the sweet girl he knew. Gone was the sex goddess he saw while cumming his brains out.
He did what she told him to do and also fixed the cushions on the couch. He watched her move around the living room like a working bee. Moving things here and there. He closed his eyes for a few minutes and when he opened them again she was standing in front of him holding a hair brush for him to grab.
“You look like you were electrocuted,” it was kind of silly the way he was back to feeling self conscious the moment he was fully clothed again. Like the angel she was, she noticed him looking a bit embarrassed so she added, “it’s cute Charlie.”
He smiled.
“Just that you can’t look like that when my dad is right outside the door.”
“What!?”
His scalp was on fire because of how quick and rough he brushed his hair to get it tangle free, all the while she laughed at him on her way to the door. Charlie discreetly whipped his face with his sleeve, just in case.
Her dad walked inside the house holding bags and bags of groceries. Charlie felt like making a run for it and just pushing the man aside to escape. For some stupid reason he felt like her dad somehow knew what they were getting up to while he was gone.
Once her dad carried all the groceries inside the house he put them on the kitchen counter and shouted, “Kids?”
Charlie almost pooped his heart out.
“Why are the windows open?”
Charlie looked at her in panic, she ignored him choosing instead to walk to the kitchen. “There was a cockroach flying around and Charlie helped me get rid of it. Huge thing. Really, I almost cried dad.
And the man laughed as he spoke loudly for Charlie to hear, “thanks kid, this girl is terrified of those. You’re a lifesaver.”
You knew filing for divorce would be no easy feat. But filing for divorce from Roman Roy?
"No easy feat” might as well have been synonymous with “impossible."
warnings: drug use, alcoholism, miscarriage, Roman and the rest of the Roy family being awful.
chapter four // chapter five
music
You’re broken up.
Separated, split up, estranged, whatever. You’re living apart, en route to what you can only foresee as painstakingly drawn out divorce proceedings. Brutal divorce proceedings, because you’re not just dealing with a “normal” human being. Unfortunately for you, the demise of your relationship has taken on a life of its own. Things always did when there was money involved.
You’re broken up.
Evidently, Roman doesn’t care.
But there’s a catch, as there usually is with your husband, and with the Roy family in general. You had hoped he would be largely unfazed by your decision to leave him, as he was with most things. You had hoped that he would sign the papers without even giving them a second look, send you a belittling text message or two, and move right along. You tried to make things as clean as possible. You hadn’t asked for a single thing—not his money, not his various properties, not his ridiculously expensive cars (yes, cars as in multiple), no valuables. Nothing.
Nothing.
Part of you knew better, though. He certainly would care that you were filing for divorce. He loved you. He loved you enough to marry you. He loved you enough to marry you without a prenup for fuck’s sake, going against any shred of common sense he had left. You had married into one of the wealthiest, most powerful families in New York. Did you really have the audacity, the gall to file for divorce from Roman Roy—theRoman Roy? You? You?
Roman loved you as much as he was capable of loving anyone. That wasn’t much by other people’s standards, but for him, that meant something. You loved him more than you had ever loved anyone, which by any sane person’s standards (and your own) seemed like a lot. And it was. But he had finally pushed you to your limit, and you were fed up.
And now you were suffering for it.
It was funny. In trying to make things as convenient and non-combative as possible, you had only made things harder on yourself. It wasn’t the divorce that Roman didn’t care about. It wasn’t you he didn’t care about. Of course not.
It was your boundaries. Roman didn’t pay any mind to those. He never could.
…which was why he had taken it upon himself to barge into your new apartment uninvited, at two o’ clock in the morning on a Tuesday. He arrived seconds after you returned home from a miserable night out, forcing open the door before you had even gotten the chance to take off your coat, turn around, and lock it. He had shoved the door open with such force that it hit you square in the back, making you stumble over your own two feet.
“Jesus, Roman!” You were breathing heavily, shaking from the adrenaline that accompanied someone sneaking up behind you and ramming into you full force.
“Just who the fuck do you think you are?”
🌃 Several years ago 🌃
Your boss is really kind of embarrassing.
There is an awkward, anxious energy to Kendall Roy that you cannot help but identify with. To those that didn’t know him, the “confidence” he tried so hard to embody probably came across as arrogant and idiotic—as if an incredibly affluent nepotism baby wasn’t unlikable enough.
But you did know him, at least to some extent. You had been his personal assistant for a little over a year. To you, Kendall seemed like the type of person that lied awake at night overthinking. He seemed like the type of person that practiced positive affirmations in the mirror every morning, and listened to podcasts hosted by hack motivational speakers in order to pump himself up. He seemed like the type of person to go all out on some fad juice cleanse with the intention of “reaching peak wellness,” only to smoke half a pack of cigarettes that same day in order to calm his nerves. His chief concern, apart from earning his father’s approval, was with making everyone think he was cool. Hip, if you will. But no matter how many designer suits or expensive sneakers he bought, to you, Kendall was a dad. A white collar dad, no less.
In other words, your boss was a dork.
He ruminated a lot, he talked a lot, he felt a lot. And why wouldn’t he? He was carrying the burden of a major media conglomerate like Waystar Royco on his back with very little support or guidance from anyone else. And in spite of his age, Kendall Roy seemed like he would do well with a bit of guidance.
“Hey, can I talk to you real quick?” he asked, peeking out from the doorway of his office. You turned to look at him as you hovered over the Keurig, which seemed to be malfunctioning. You had to hold back a sigh. To Kendall, “real quick” usually meant up to half an hour or longer. Typically, you didn’t mind talking to your boss, but you were feeling desperate for some prolonged silence and a heavy dose of caffeine. You had slept in later than intended, and in your discombobulated scramble to arrive to work on time, you had neglected to have the two cups you usually drank when you woke up. Yes, two.
Because working for a Roy was fucking exhausting.
As fair as he could be and as well as he paid you, your dynamic with your employer was this: when he said “jump,” you said “how high?” twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. You picked up takeout for him at all hours of the day and night, scheduled meetings—sat in on, took notes, and got yelled at in said meetings—fielded calls from people he did and didn’t want to deal with, ran whatever errand he could think of, and—although he didn’t want anyone else to know this—made sure he went to his AA meetings. He even asked you to pick his kids up from school a few times. You were starting to think that Kendall would pay you to breathe for him if he could.
“Yeah sure,” you said, trying your best not to sound exasperated.
Kendall was pretty perceptive when it came to your mood, however, and he barely stifled a laugh. “Don’t worry, I have one for you already. I bought it on my way here.”
“You got me coffee?”
“You mentioned that you like a good cappuccino, so.”
“Oh! Thanks, Ken. I really appreciate that,” you said, beaming.
He smiled back, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Your sense of gratitude quickly died down when you realized that this probably wasn’t good. It was generally never a good sign when Kendall gave you little peace offerings like this. The last time he bought you coffee, he was preemptively apologizing for piling a bunch of new job tasks on you; a direct result of firing most of your colleagues, including some of your favorite ones.
“Have a seat,” he said, sitting down at his desk, pushing the massive cup towards you. You cleared your throat and stepped into his office, closing the door behind you. “Sorry to call you in here right as you’re walking in. I just have a few things I want to go over with you.”
“Yeah, sure. Of course.”
You didn’t like the way he was looking at you. Like he was nervous, like he knew something you didn’t, like what he was about to say would feel like pulling teeth—not only for him, but for you, too.
“Alright, um. So I wasn’t going to mention this to you because honestly, I think it might be…well, you might not…I’m not sure how it’s going to be received. And in my view, I mean. It’s not like that. I mean, I’m not like that. I’m not that guy. I promise, I’m really not! It’s just—”
“Ken?” you asked. His anxiety was rubbing off on you, giving you the urge to bite your nails.
He sighed. “I would never, ever want to make you feel uncomfortable.”
You raised your eyebrows, taking a big gulp of your cappuccino, made just the way you liked it. You had a feeling you were going to need it. He placed his head in his hand, his thumb and middle finger splaying across his forehead to touch his temples. “Ah god, I really shouldn’t do this,” he muttered under his breath. “I don’t think I can do this.”
Your heart was beating loudly in your ears. Was this really it? Was he firing you? Were you getting let go? Your mind was racing, trying to recall if you had done anything that warranted being kicked to the curb. Did you do anything even slightly detrimental to the company, anything at all? Did you even need to? Waystar Royco wasn’t exactly fair, or employee-friendly for that matter.
“Is everything okay?”
Your voice sounded just as pathetic as you felt.
“Yes. Well, sort of. No. Maybe.”
You were about to say something when Kendall’s eyes suddenly shifted towards something above you, and he covered his face with his palm dejectedly. And then you heard a loud banging noise, making you jump. You turned to see who was easily one of your least favorite people in the world: the obnoxious, antagonistic, arrogant, irritatingly well-dressed imbecile that was Roman Roy.
He slammed on the glass windows of Kendall’s office with both hands, making everyone nearby turn and stare. They all should have been relatively unfazed by this nonsense by now. On the days that he was actually at work, if Roman wasn’t being disruptive, there was something very wrong.
“Did he tell you?” he asked, his gaze honing in on you. His voice was somewhat muffled through the glass, but the volume at which he was speaking more than made up for it. His tone was half maniacally happy, half mocking. There was no other way to describe it. “Is he telling you? Is he telling you right now?”
“Jesus Christ, not this,” Kendall muttered.
“So, did you give her the good news?” Roman asked, shoving the door open so hard that it hit the wall, making the desk shake.
“Seriously, man?” Kendall groaned.
You suddenly felt hands clutching onto your shoulders from behind, making you seize up. You were hit with a wave of what had to be a laughably expensive cologne, but not a nice one. It was more sleazy than anything. ‘Drug dealer cologne’ were the words that popped into your head, if that was even a thing. ‘Creepy guy cologne.’ ‘Guy who thinks that just because he has money means that he can do anything he wants and get away with it cologne.’ To make matters worse, his hands were ice cold.
Like his soul.
He leaned down to face you, and you reflexively jerked away. “So beautiful, did he give you the good news?”
“No!” Kendall snapped, attempting to reach over the desk and swat at him with a piece of paper. “Absolutely not. You cannot touch the employees. You know that I could fire you for sexual harrassment right now if I wanted to?”
Roman scoffed and rolled his eyes. He took his hands off of you, holding them out in front of him defensively. “So I’m guessing you didn’t tell her, then. Terrifying Ken, really. I’m quaking. How would I ever recover?”
“I already told you that wasn’t going to happen. Get out. You can hire your own assistant.”
What?
“I’m sorry, what?” you asked, trying to avoid looking at Roman. “Is this what you wanted to talk about?”
Kendall looked at you and sighed. He was quiet for a few moments, like he was contemplating something. You surmised that he was probably just overwhelmed by his brother loudly barging into his office so early in the morning. “Overwhelming” was the perfect word to describe Roman’s presence, among other things. “Um, yeah. Yeah, of course. This. But it’s not happening, so you don’t have to worry about it.”
“Au contraire mon frère,” Roman said. “I’m COO now, remember? I need somebody to bring me coffee and pick up my drycleaning just the same as you.”
“So hire an assistant.”
“I am hiring an assistant.”
“Hire your own!”
“Oh, great idea, Ken! But oh, oh, you know what? You know what? It’s actually a really stupid fucking idea because I clearly said that I wanted your assistant. You might’ve understood that if you had been listening.”
In the midst of their little back and forth, you felt frozen. Even from only having just a handful of interactions with him, you hated Roman. You hated him when you knew of him, and you hated him when you met him. You already kind of hated working in the corporate world, but being able to afford to live in the city and having Kendall as a boss made it all at least somewhat bearable. If you had to be Roman’s assistant, it was over for you. There was no other option. You would have to quit your job. If you didn’t, you were in for the most demoralizing experience of your life.
Why was this even happening? You figured this situation had absolutely nothing to do with you, that there was some kind of underlying argument going on between Roman and Kendall and that you were just being used as a pawn in the game. You were a fairly decent assistant, but nothing remarkable. There was no reason why anyone would or should adamantly argue to hire you. It was crazy how people with money and power could change your entire livelihood on a whim.
“Besides, Kendall, you already have Jess. You don’t need two assistants, that’s diva behavior. And Dad already said I could. You won’t even notice that she’s gone.”
“Yeah?” Kendall mocked. “Really? You’re dicking my employee around just because Daddy said you could?”
“Ew,” Roman laughed. “Did you seriously just call our dad Daddy?”
“It was in a mocking tone!”
“Yeah, okay, Daddy.”
“Roman,” you interrupted. You knew you probably weren’t going to be able to level with him, but you had to try. If there was even a slight chance that you could remain in your current position and maintain your sanity, you were going to reach for it. “Kendall has me doing some seriously low-level tasks. That’s why he still has Jess. I’m basically an intern, I’m just here to learn. You’re probably going to want someone more experienced.”
Roman shook his head and tutted at you. “Aw, Ken. You’ve really got to keep your diminished sense of self-worth in check, it’s starting to rub off on your employees.”
“I’m going to talk to Dad, you are going to leave my staff alone, and we are going to hire you an assistant,” Kendall said slowly, as if he was talking to a child.
“Yeah, because Dad is always so willing to back you up, right? Old reliable. I’m sure that’ll work out great for you.”
The room was dead silent for the next few moments. They were doing that weird sibling thing where they were having a conversation just by looking at each other, a conversation you weren’t part of. Roman had struck a nerve, just as he knew he would.
“Did you wanna say something else, or?” Roman asked.
Kendall wouldn’t look at you, instead losing his staring contest with Roman to aimlessly move some things around on his desk.
And just like that, it was over. You were fucked.
“Yeah. Didn’t think so.”
💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸
Hell was not some fiery, underground inner sanctum. It was sitting next to Roman Roy on a private jet (the Roys’ second private jet, which Roman affectionately deemed “Family Torture Chamber the Second”) en route to Herefordshire, England for Siobhan’s wedding.
“You don’t have to pretend to be asleep, you know.”
Oh yes, I do.
You were only three months into being Roman’s personal assistant, and you already felt like he was taking years off of your life.
Today had been a rough day, to say the least. You were under the initial impression that you were going to board “Family Torture Chamber the First” (also known as, “If You’re Not First, You’re Last”) along with the rest of his miserable excuse for a family earlier that morning. But then Roman took it upon himself to inform you just as you were walking out onto the tarmac that they had all departed for England several days prior. He said some routine maintenance was being done on the jet, and a few seats were removed so that they could be repaired. As a result, there wasn’t enough room for two additional passengers. So here you sat, stranded alone with your boss in an unusually cushy torture chamber.
It was almost sad, the way you were actually kind of looking forward to the original travel plan. If you managed to shove your way into a seat next to Willa or Greg (who reminded you that normal people did, in fact, exist) it would’ve been a welcome reprieve from the world in which you lived, otherwise known as Roman’s world. It was kind of like Elmo’s World, except actually not at all.
Elmo’s World never made you contemplate throwing yourself off a bridge.
Roman’s world: a cruel reality in which everything was all about Roman, all the time. During your time served thus far, things had been—for lack of a better word—weird. It was bad, sure, but not quite in the way you had expected. You anticipated that you would be yelled at, talked down to, and forced to overhear things you would never be able to scrub from your memory. And there certainly was a bit of all of that.
But mostly, you felt…smothered.
At any given hour, it was rare that Roman didn’t have you practically glued to his side. If you weren’t readily available or even simply within eyeshot, he would make up some dramatic excuse to reel you back in. Everything that involved you doing something independently became a major issue. There was a never ending list of monotonous tasks he would create for you to complete.
“You’re gonna have to stay late again tonight. You might have to stay over, actually. I need you to fill out this paperwork I don’t feel like pretending to read.”
“I don’t care if it makes you uncomfortable, just forge my fucking signature. I’m telling you you can. Oh wait, look, look! How about this? I’ll make it all better. I’m openly threatening to fire you if you don’t, so now you’re under duress. Not liable if shit hits the fan, unless you fuck me over and make me change my mind. Who’s even gonna know, a handwriting expert? What kind of maniac under sixty sits down and writes anymore, anyway?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it. It’s 2am, you’re tired. So is everyone. I need you to pick up some groceries for me. Yeah. Right now. I don’t trust someone from one of those delivery apps knowing where I live. Inevitably someone’s gonna tweet about how hot I am in person when I’m just trying to have a quiet night in, and you know how much I hate drawing attention to myself. Also, I’m kind of drunk right now, so…”
“I don’t pay you for nothing, beautiful. If I have to go for a run at disrespectful o’clock in the morning, so do you. Don’t be mad. We can get donuts after.”
Somehow, you had allowed things to cross the line from weird to downright ridiculous. The only time you spent away from him was to go home and sleep, and that didn’t always happen, either. He liked “working from home,” aka, leaving the office early and making you come to his house so you could work from his home. During that time, he would just sit and relax, or talk at you for hours until you became visibly agitated. Those seemed to be his two favorite hobbies as of late.
You would be answering emails and creating spreadsheets and doing god knows whatever else he asked you to do so late into the night that he just started letting you sleep there. Or rather, insisting that you sleep there, in one of several guest rooms of your choosing.
The first time you passed out on his couch—long after he had gone to bed himself—you were horrified. You had never once done that at Kendall’s house. But he always made sure to let you leave at a reasonable hour, and on the rare chance that you had to stay late, he would send for a company car to take you home.
Roman was totally unfazed when he found you that morning. You could vividly recall him waking you up by hitting you repeatedly with a $300 throw pillow.
You did all of this and more, 24 hours a day, seven days a week. You were starting to feel like you sold your soul, and for what? A check? To live in an insanely expensive city without any friends, without any family, completely alone? Was sacrificing your dignity and virtually all of your free time really worth the money he paid you?
You preferred not to answer that question.
It wasn’t like you had anyone to come home to, not even a cat or something. Your family lived out-of-state. What else were you going to do with your free time? Why not work 24/7, if anything, to distract yourself from how empty your life truly was?
You had been poor once, not long before you started working for Kendall. You could just barely afford basic necessities, sometimes having to live off of granola bars for weeks at a time. But you were determined to remain afloat. Leaving, going back home to a family that wasn’t much better than the Roys, would feel like giving up. It would feel like you had failed. Getting your degree, working multiple jobs, going through roommate after roommate, struggling for all those years just to return to the place you were so desperate to escape…it seemed like such a waste. It would’ve been all for nothing. You had become so rundown that you were prepared to lay down and die like that, prepared to surrender.
And then you got a job at Waystar Royco.
You weren’t afraid to quit under Kendall. You knew he would provide you with a glowing reference, as long as you left on good terms. Roman, though…
You would probably have to fabricate one. That is, if he hadn’t totally blacklisted you from being hired by everyone else in the industry if you even so much as hinted at quitting. And he certainly had the means to do that.
Given the amount of time he forced you to spend with him, if you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve thought Roman actually liked you or something. But you weren’t an idiot. Roman didn’t like anyone. He was just, well…
He was a brat. Roman was a brat. There was no better word to describe him. It was that simple. As much as you tried to hide it, he knew you totally despised him. How could he not? You couldn’t tell if he kept you on such a short leash just because he enjoyed torturing you, or if he was genuinely that needy.
Kendall was sort of like that, too, in his own way. You figured it must’ve been a Roy thing.
Being trapped on a twelve hour flight together probably wasn’t helping to lessen your disdain for him. He sighed dramatically, slamming himself back against his seat. All was quiet for a few seconds until you felt him flick your ear.
“Ow! Roman, why?” you groaned, shoving his hand away. You leaned your head against the window, squinting your eyes shut. “Can you please let me get some rest? I’m exhausted.”
“Yeah, figures. You’re probably not used to flying anything but coach. And believe me, I get it. For a wee commoner, I’m sure the plane that Dad only uses when he has no other option is just beyond. Dare I say comparable to, I don’t know, what’s something broke people think is opulent? The water mattress that your dad who only saw you once a year got you for your birthday when you were ten, or something. It’s like that to you. Am I right or am I right?”
If there was ever a time where you really wanted to punch him in the face—and there were many times in which you really wanted to punch him in the face—it was now.
“It’s comfortable, sure, but not comfortable enough to sleep on. Let’s be honest with each other. Who the fuck can fall asleep on a plane?”
“People fall asleep on planes all the time, Roman,” you sighed.
“Some people. Not you, though.”
“Apparently not.”
It was hopeless. There was no point in arguing. If there was one thing you had learned these last few months, it was that in order to get what you wanted from powerful people—powerful people that also just so happened to be awful people—you had to learn to pick your battles.
You were right on the verge of laying down and dying once again the morning after Roman hired you. That is, until he offered to drastically increase your salary. You were certain he did this to ensure you would stick around, not because he valued you as an employee, but because he wanted his brother to know that he won whatever weird little dick measuring competition they were having.
You opened your eyes and rolled your shoulders back.
Just a few more hours. You can do this. You can do this.
When you turned your head to look at him, Roman was leaning back in his seat, already looking at you.
“Oh my god! Have you been staring at me this whole time?”
“Besides,” he said, ignoring your question. “It’s not like I would even try and bother you if you were awake. Which you have been, like, this entire time.”
“Are you serious? You wouldn’t try to bother me?”
“I wouldn’t,” he said earnestly. The look on his face was a drastic shift from the expression he usually wore. Like with most unlikeable people, there were moments where the cracks would begin to show, where you would see an inkling of vulnerability beneath the surface. It was the strangest thing, how he could vacillate from sly fox to kicked puppy.
You wanted to cry. Did he really have the audacity to sound so sincere when he had been bothering you around the clock for three months straight? He had to have known how annoying he was. It was deliberate, wasn’t it? It was always deliberate with him.
You couldn’t even control sniping back.
“You literally just bothered me so that I would wake up and talk to you.”
Roman rolled his eyes. “Once again, you were already awake, you little liar. And I don’t want you to talk to me. I want you to look at me and laugh at everything I say and hang onto my every word. See? That’s not talking. That’s listening. There’s a difference.”
“You know there are several other seats available for you to enjoy?” you asked, gesturing to the empty cabin. You wished that even just one of the other Roys had opted to fly with you. You silently prayed that one of them would somehow materialize, becoming an unwitting buffer between the two you. “You don’t have to sit directly next to me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. See angel, I’m incredibly delicate in body and soul, meaning that I have the circulatory system of roughly an eighty year old man. Therefore I am fucking freezing in here. I basically have to exchange body heat with you or I’m going to die. And if I die, you don’t get paid, so you’ve kinda gotta weigh your options real carefully.”
Suddenly, the somewhat polite, professional resolve you had been trying your best to uphold had collapsed. It was too much. You couldn’t take it anymore. He was impossible. You groaned and knocked your forehead against the seat in front of you, resting it there.
Roman let out a laugh. “Aw hey, come on. Cheer up. We only have…” he checked his watch. “Seven more hours to go! Wanna play truth or dare?”
“Your circulation is probably bad because you’re cold-blooded,” you said, your voice muffled against the leather seat.
“What, like a snake?”
You thought for a second, straightening back up. “No, you’re not that threatening. More of a lizard. Maybe a gecko.”
“Did you just…what the fuck?” He looked at you incredulously, but he seemed more amused than annoyed. “Did you just say that I look like a fucking gecko?”
“No, I said that you’re cold-blooded like a gecko.”
“Are…wait, are geckos cold-blooded?”
“I mean, they’re reptiles. I don’t know, Roman. I’m not a gecko expert.”
“Damn shame. And here I thought your knowledge and expertise knew no bounds, Bachelor’s degree,” he mocked.
“Didn’t you barely graduate high school?”
“Didn’t you barely graduate high school?” he mimicked you, raising his voice an octave. “You don’t really have to when you’re fucking loaded. Hey, do you want some wine?”
He got up and grabbed a few bottles from the small wine rack in the corner—yes, a wine rack—and held them out in front of you. If he wasn’t the bane of your existence, you would think that he looked nice. He usually did, with his button up shirts and his blazers and his many, many coats. He had sharp features, always with dark circles under his eyes. You sometimes wondered if he was just as tired as you were. Even though he could be kind of lazy, it wasn’t hard to imagine that being part of the Roy family was no easy feat. Every once in a while, you wished he wasn’t the way that he was. If he wasn’t your employer and he wasn’t such a horrible human being, you could concede that Roman was really kind of handsome.
In his own weird, rude, cold, apparently gecko-like way.
“Bitter, disgusting liquid or bitter, disgusting liquid? Take your pick. You’re usually pretty predictable, but I cannot for the life of me decipher whether you’re a red wine person or a white wine person.”
You cringed at the thought of having a glass of wine with him. Although you could really stand to unwind, you had a brutal headache that didn’t seem like it was going away any time soon. You knew from experience that wine would only make it worse.
“Neither right now. Thanks, though.”
He scoffed. “Oh, come on. It’s not like I’m offering you ketamine or something. I’m being nice, I’m actually asking which kind you like before I give it to you. So what’s it gonna be, red or white?”
Being nice. Roman used that phrase a lot. “I’m being nice.” As if kindness was a rare, transactional behavior to be immediately acknowledged and rewarded. If he was “being nice,” then you had to be nice. Otherwise, he would make you pay for it.
And he could be pretty sadistic when he wanted to be.
You wondered who he got that from, Caroline or Logan. Maybe both.
“Neither. I have a headache.”
“I will literally spit in your drink if you don’t tell me which one you like.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “What are you even—then I just won’t drink it.”
“Whatever,” he sighed, uncorking the red. He didn’t bother to grab a glass, instead taking a swig directly from the bottle as he sat down next to you. “More for me then.”
For a short while, things were eerily quiet. Roman was eerily quiet. Then again, he was steadily chugging wine, becoming more and more inebriated as the minutes ticked by. It was about an hour and a half until he finished it off. You were resting your head against the window again, willing yourself to sleep when you felt a tap on your shoulder.
“So. You and my brother,” he said. “You guys…hang out ever?”
“Hang out?” you asked, furrowing your brow.
He nodded, all tired and glassy-eyed. “Yeah. You ever…” He looked like he was seriously thinking about what he was about to say next, but that might’ve just been the alcohol. “You ever hang out outside of the happiest place on earth?”
“You’re asking if I’ve ever met up with him outside of work?”
“Look at you, putting two and two together,” he exclaimed. His tone changed to one of a pet owner excitedly greeting their dog as they walked through the door. He moved his face closer to yours. “Who’s a smart girl? Who’s a smart girl?”
You placed your entire palm against his face and slowly pushed it away.
He laughed. “Ooooo. Y’know, I actually kind of like it when you do that.”
But you weren’t laughing. Not even a little.
“Are you insinuating that I’m hanging out—” you gestured with air quotes. “—with Kendall?”
“I’m not insinuating anything. I’m just asking a question so I can stop other people from insinuating. It’s all anybody ever talks about when you leave the room.”
You felt your heart drop into your stomach. People were talking about you? All this time you had been working your ass off, going the extra mile just so you could keep this stupid job and afford to live, and this was what you had to show for it? Your coworkers speculating that you were sleeping with your boss?
Well, former boss.
Why? Just because he was nice to you? And not just Roman nice. Actually nice.
You had to stop yourself from yelling.
“The way he looks at you sometimes, I mean. Yeah, I get it. The dude has eyes, but come on. How fucking obvious can you be?”
“You think I’m sleeping with Kendall.”
“I mean. Are you?”
He had that look on his face again, the weird one. The nervous one. Kicked puppy. The “I’m trying to get my point across but but I’m afraid of your reaction” face. It was always so jarring when he got like that. You almost preferred the snark. What did he have to be nervous about? Nothing was going on, and even if it was, how would that even slightly affect his life? Why did it matter?
“I think it goes without saying that I’m not.”
“Well that was convincing,” he said flatly.
“Think about it, Roman. When would I even have time to sleep with anyone? I work constantly. I’m literally always with you!”
“Before, though?” he asked. His voice was borderline whiny, like he was pleading. You had a gut feeling that you should get up and move further away from him, but you stayed put.
“Before?”
“Don’t play dumb, you know what I’m asking. Before you worked for me, were you fucking him?”
“No!” you snapped. “Roman, ew. Why do you even care? It’s none of your business what I do outside of work.”
He uncorked the other bottle of wine and took a drink. “Wanna hear another fun fact?” he asked, clearing his throat.
“I have a feeling I’m gonna hear it either way.”
“I’m warning you, though. You tell anyone, you die.”
“Alright, fine. We’ll make a blood oath.”
He smirked at you and shook his head, taking another drink. “Oh, you know I love me a blood oath. So glad you’re my assistant, by the way.”
“I really wish I could say the same.”
He placed his hand against his chest. “Ouch. You won’t even give me an inch, will you?”
“Just tell me the fact.”
“So demanding. Fine, since the anticipation is killing you. Fun fact, I’m a nervous flier. More than nervous, actually. Like, I’m more of a terrorized, traumatized, scared out of my mind flier.”
Okay. You were not expecting that admission.
“Really?” you asked. “You’re afraid to fly?”
“Yep. Like a little bitch boy.”
You snorted. “Being afraid of flying doesn’t make you a little bitch boy. Lots of people are afraid to fly.”
“Talking, though. Talking to someone during the flight?” he slurred, as if he was asking a question. “Talking helps me relax.”
Oh. So that was why he wasn’t letting you sleep.
“I’m honestly a little shocked that you’re a nervous flier. You fly places all the time.”
He shrugged. “Yeah. Sucks to suck, I guess,” he said, taking another swig.
You grabbed the bottle’s neck, trying to pry it from his fingers, but he wouldn’t budge. “I think you might want to slow down.”
He smiled at you, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Maybe you would’ve known that sooner if you took, oh, I don’t know, two seconds out of your day to ask me a single question about myself. And clearly you don’t wanna talk to me right now, so getting drunk is really my only other option for getting through this flight. But I’m cold-blooded, right?”
This whole interaction had taken a bizarre turn, and you had no clue how to react. You almost felt guilty, but you weren’t quite sure what you were supposed to feel guilty for. Maybe you had been a bit cold when it came to Roman, but how else did he expect you to act? He was awful. Everyone knew that. And he was your employer, not your friend. You weren’t required to ask him about himself unless it pertained to what he wanted you to do. How were you even supposed to ask about something like that? How would it even come up in conversation?
There was a long, awkward silence after that. He kept drinking and you kept staring out the window, thinking of what to say next. Should you apologize? Should you move seats? Was there a way to create distance from him that wasn’t blatantly obvious?
“I–”
He waved his hand at you dismissively. “You’re sorry, you feel bad, blah blah blah. Whatever. I don’t need you talking to me because you feel bad for me. Unlike my brother, I don’t want anyone’s pity. Just go to sleep.”
“Roman, I’m sorry. But don’t you think you’re being a little unfair?”
“You wanted to go to sleep, so go to sleep. Keep acting like I’m not even here. Keep ignoring me, it’s fine. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m not ignoring y—”
“Alright. You want to keep this pity party going? Fine by me. But while we’re at it, we’re just gonna nip this in the bud now, okay?” he said, exuding a false sense of cheerfulness. He stood up and stumbled a little ways down the aisle, raising his hand to lean against the overhead compartment as he turned towards you. “I’m sure you’re already well aware, but need I remind you that you’re a fucking coffee gopher? Because you are. You’re a run of the mill, ladder climbing, H&M wearing plebeian. And you know what else? This is the best you’re ever gonna do. You need this job, and in order to keep it, you need me to like you. And in spite of what you’ve heard, in spite of what you’ve chosen to believe about me, I’m really not that bad.
“In fact, you should be thanking me up and down right now. Because right now, I’m essentially paying you to drink wine, and take a nap, and complain about how much you hate me, and talk about how much you miss working for my cokehead brother on my fucking dime. So if I were you, I would wipe that miserable look off your face and attempt to maintain some semblance of professionalism. Unless, of course, you want to buy your own plane ticket home, which I’m telling you right now, is not gonna be cheap for someone like you.”
You felt like you had just been slapped. You might as well have been. Your chest was heavy, your breathing sporadic as your eyes welled up with angry tears. Your mind was racing as he stared at you, waiting for a response. He could be fairly ruthless, but you hadn’t experienced anything like this.
“Oh, you’re crying now? You’re crying?” he taunted. “Why don’t you just go tell Kendall about it? I’m sure he’d love nothing more.”
You were wondering when Roman’s “niceness” was going to reach its threshold.
There it was.
-
this is a reupload of a story i posted a little over a year ago. i'm really glad to be working on it again 😊 hope you enjoy
classmate charlie! that took notice of you since the first time he saw you.
he’s always been an obssesive guy, this time it was no different. for weeks he was content with just staring at the back of your head.
to be honest he didnt really get a good look of your face until the first time he talked to you. he obsessed over your voice alone.
the first time you looked at him in the eye he felt like crying. there was simply no way you would ever want to be friends with him. even the nicest of pretty girls only allowed themselves to give him smiles that reeked of pity.
there was no denying you were put off by him, he saw that look in your eyes. but to his surprise he noticed the extra effort you made to make him feel included.
after that day his obsession turned into something even more intense than an unhealthy crush.
classmate! charlie who couldn’t help but to fantasize about the nastiest possible scenarios. he wondered if you were the type of girl that preferred it on her back or not.
one day he managed to steal the bottle of perfume you kept in your bag. he took it home with him and sprayed it on his bed. his sheets, his pillow, it all made his head dizzy.
charlie the type of man that giggles like a madman when he recalls instances where you were specially nice to him.
he BLUSHES.
classmate! charlie who will make sure to make you sound like the most unappealing woman to ever exist to any man that dared ask him about you.
Charlie is alone, he doesn’t like to admit it, or say it out—in doing so he’s accepting what it is, and just how deep he’s gotten himself into such a situation. But, he craves just the presence of another person, that unmistakable feeling of pure content, the knowledge that you were lucky enough to sit with a friend, and experience them in all their mortal being. He believes he must’ve done something absolutely horrid in his past life, to live in the same timeline as you but not with you—he’s merely a bystander, he views you going to class, he sees you picking an apple from your bag, he sees and sees and sees, but he doesn’t interact, he’s a prisoner in his own body—only ever letting his eyes be the one part of him to become aware of your presence, it’s suffocating.
He shares a few classes with you, but he hides himself. It’s self sabotage at this point, there’s no doubt in his mind that it isn’t—he has every chance, every fucking chance to come up to you, to start up a conversation, but, he’s comforted by his own sadness and despair. He’s okay with it, he’s okay with it because it’s what he knows best. It’s alright if it leaves his brain a bit more fumbled, his vision blurred when attempting to focus on a test—after-all, he rather be sad, and miserable than have to ever deal with any, any, amount of a rejection that may fall from your lips
A miracle happens one day, he’s surely being dramatic, but you noticing him is a miracle and a burden all at once. You don’t comment on his long hair, or try to make fun of him in any hidden way, you’re just talking to him because you had noticed his backpack straps were undone, it’s the smallest, most minuscule thing you could’ve picked up, it’s almost ludicrous. He’s not paying attention however, your lips are glossed up, you’re wearing some type of cherry red—it really doesn’t matter, but again it does. He’s losing himself in you, he’s being sucked in, like a constant vacuum of doom.
you’re still talking, and he’s a fool, he’s concluded he’s really just a fool, through and through, he only nods and sends a small, barely whispered thank you, and then he’s on his way. He sees why he’s alone now, even when given the chance he blows it, he screws up any hope of having a friend, even just a friend—he’s positive you’ll tell everybody you know how weird he is now, and he’ll be forced to stare at you again through the shell of a body he has. So, yes, Charlie Walker is alone, and and afraid, he’s nearly paralyzed from the fear that through his entire life he’ll live it by himself—he supposes maybe that’s just who he is, he’s meant to spectate, analyze, be in the background only observing. He’ll never have the luxury of anything more, and he’s too exhausted to try and change it, so, he’ll just look at you, and focus on every small thing you do, watching you waft through life, while he gets stuck behind.
for @arachine my most favorite stinky ever!! I promise to improve on how I write charlie to give u the most butt-clenching fics in the future ;3!
cw: NSFW, fem.reader, bribery???, scummy roman, fingering, oral (f. receiving), slight power dynamics, office sex
a/n: blah blah intimacy issues, blah blah canon roman is scared of pussy I KNOW but let me have my fun
Outside, tipped street lamps have buzzed awake and shine cones of orange light onto the roads. It’s past hours, the other workers long gone by now. The office is empty, save for the skeleton crew that cleans up when no one else is around, but they’re on the lower levels.
The sky is yawning into night, the dusty blue darkening with each passing minute. You can’t hear the bustle of New York from how high up you are in the tower, the shimmering golden lights of other skyscrapers mimic the stars.
You’d like to go home, like to just go to sleep so you don’t have to deal with these corporate douchebags any longer. But your boss is still here, still drinking in here his personal office like the rest of you don’t have lives. To him, you probably don’t.
He’s said it before, “What? Do you have more important things to do than me?”
the marauders and how would they act if they had a crush:
you can read my new snape fic here or my new remus fic here!
sirius black:
when he is only trying to get someone in bed he’d pull out his most abhorrent one liners, like this man will ask people to help him “inaugurate” his new desk… he actually wants to have sex on it… yeah, but when it comes to a silly little crush he would go incredibly quiet around them.
in conclusion, without meaning to, he’s the type to create the most awkward atmosphere when he’s around someone he truly likes.
he is the type to confuse them because he doesn’t really talk to them but if they need something he’d be first one to offer his help, so they are left like ???? is he plotting my death???? what is his master plan???? but no, the whole time his brain is just malfunctioning.
mixed signals frfr
he subconsciously starts going after people that resemble his crush, if they are a brunette he’ll only shag brunettes, if they have dark skin he’ll only go after darker skinned people, and so on.
when he’s standing beside them he’ll try to make himself taller, he’ll straighten his back and fumble with his jacket. because he’s a MAN. don’t you forget that.
james potter:
giggles, giggles and more giggles.
he’d let his crush try his glasses on, he wouldn’t even care if they leave fingerprints all over the lenses.
he is no stranger to participating in gossiping but he’d try extra hard to compile the hottest rumors to report them back to his crush because he noticed their friends do that and he wouldn’t miss an opportunity like that.
he is a crybaby, that much we all know, but he refuses to cry in front of his crush. he’d try so hard not to that they would be like “james your face is red and there are tears running down your cheeks, what’s wrong” and he’d like “…what do you mean, i’ve never been better.”
he messes with his hair whenever he is talking to them.
for some reason he wouldn’t flirt, same as sirius in the sense that when he’s trying to get with someone he dumps all his charms on them. but with his crush he just doesn’t? for the longest time they would think of james as a friend.
because let’s be honest, he is SO the type to get friendzoned.
he makes sure to invite them to every single one of his quidditch matches.
remus lupin:
not the type to hide it.
he’s the type to smile at his crush as if they were a cute dog. very fond look he gets on his face.
he would praise them constantly when he noticed they were lacking in something.
he scratches the scars on his face whenever he’s talking to them. he also slightly pulls at his earlobe, he fidgets a lot.
he’s constantly clearing his throat when he’s around them, as if to make his presence known.
eye contact.
the rest of the marauders always knows when he’s crushing on someone because when he truly likes someone he doesn’t ask them for advice.
all in all i think it would be very easy to see when he has a crush on someone because he treats them differently. he slouches a little when talking to them, or he fixes their hair randomly.
nsfw: sneaking into the gryffindor common room late at night.
tags: p in v (you already know), whole lotta tit sucking sorry not sorry, fingering.
Before she met him she had been a stranger to unplanned endeavors, always one to prefer the safety of rehearsed everyday activities. But that had obviously changed as she was now walking to meet up with Sirius way past curfew.
He was wearing the cloak he mentioned in the note he sent her. Only his head was visible, giving the illusion of a floating head missing the rest of the body. His usual cheeky smile was already on his face even before she reached his side.
“Get in woman,” he said while opening his arms so she could squeeze herself in.
It proved to be a hard task walking up to the Gryffindor common room when they had to take tiny steps given how little leg room they both had under the cloak. She could feel and hear him laugh behind her, his mouth breathing out hot hair right on her left ear.
As expected, Filch was patrolling the school grounds searching for his next victims so they stopped walking and hurried to lean against the wall in a corner when they saw him approaching. It seemed like all the stars above were in their plans for the night because right as Filch passed them, a different couple came face to face with him. Taking the opportunity to escape, they tried making no noise as they walked away from the scene.
Some more steps and they were in front of the entrance to the common room. Sirius peaked inside to check if any of the resident snitches were lounging on the couches before he hurried her in.
As they approached his shared room he leaned in and said, “I kicked them out.” She had known him long enough to know that meant an invitation for yet another night of fooling around.
And who was she to deny herself of the simple pleasures in life.
The first thing he did as soon as they reached his bed was help her get out of her sweater and her blouse.
He had never been skilled at unclasping bras so he left that to her.
From the start of their relationship Sirius had shown this honestly quite amusing fascination with her breasts, before they had sex for the first time he got off by sucking and licking her all over. It did not take much for him to come undone if breasts were involved in the equation. This time it was not different.
He made her lay down before straddling her hips. His weight on top of her should not have been as arousing as she felt it to be. She always forgot how deceiving his lean frame was, the few people that had had the privilege of feeling his weight on top of theirs could agree that a boy that slender had no reason for being so heavy. To her it was exhilarating. A reminder of how much of a man he truly was. Imposing and impossible to ignore.
Next he angled himself so his mouth connected to her right breast.
He started by kissing her sternum then quickly moved to the side, tongue sliding around the nipple. His eyelids covering his eyes as he let himself get lost in the moment. His saliva was smearing all over her supple flesh and she felt chills when the cold air got to her.
“Fuck,” her breathy voice disrupted the otherwise calmness of the night. At this he laughed.
“Yeah?”
Unlike most nights where he chose to pay special attention to her tits, he did not stay doing the same for too long. He repeated the same treatment on her other breast but this time he bit her. The sudden shot of shallow pain made her hand move involuntarily, she was now tangling her fingers in his silky strands of hair. This only served as encouragement as her hold on his head urged him to keep going.
He bit down again before feeling around the bed searching for her other hand, when they made contact he guided it to where her right hand was gripping his hair and hummed as to let her know he wanted both of her hands to pull, his mouth still preoccupied with marking her.
She shook her head in protest, eyebrows furrowed. “It’ll hurt,” she said.
“Yes, I want it to.”
So she did what he asked for. She pulled his hair with both her hands, promptly making his mouth detach itself from the nipple he was abusing. His moan echoed inside the room.
His lips were glossy with the excess saliva and they looked raw. The pain made his eyes close again.
“Heard Preston say he fucked a girl’s tits. Can you believe that’s possible?”
She laughed. “Anything is possible, really.”
“C-can we–?” He stuttered as his eyes opened wide, she laughed again before rolling her eyes.
“Not now Black. I believe you invited me for something else,” he did not reply immediately. His eyes were glossed over, his gaze was on her red bitten lips.
“Right,” he said before blinking fast to shake off the momentarily brain fog he was feeling. He made a move to get off her. “Yeah. I kicked everyone out so I could fuck you good.”
“Is that right?” She teased.
“It’s been so long since we last shagged. I feel like I could go for hours.” He was no longer straddling her, instead he was now positioning himself in between her open legs. He did not bother removing her skirt so he simply moved it up to get it out the way. “Keep the socks on,” he told her, as if he needed to beg. His voice a tad whinier than before.
He toyed with the elastic of her socks tickling her upper thighs.
He put all his weight on his knees so he was left hovering over her. His fingers made their way to his mouth before putting two of them inside it, effectively coating them in saliva. He did all this while looking at her without breaking eye contact.
“Your turn now,” he said as he hunched over her to bring his face closer to hers. When she parted her lips he wasted no time in shoving his fingers inside, urging her to suck on them. “Ah, fuck,” he whispered.
With his lips still wide open and his eyes unfocused, he shoved his fingers deeper inside her mouth.
“Don’t close your eyes, look at me.”
He did this for a few more seconds before her heated gaze was too much; it made him anxious for what was to come. He pulled his fingers out of her mouth watching the trail of saliva connecting them to her wet lips.
“Now?”
He only mumbled as a response. His knees moved back to allow him to position his face right on her cunt, he gave it a kiss before covering it with saliva as if to replicate what she had done to his fingers. Having done exactly this so many times in the past, he was already well acquainted with her body, he knew where everything was. His thumb located her clit as two of his fingers made his way inside her.
“Can I do this? Or are you gonna cum before I get to fuck you?” He said dangling the tantalising offer in front of her.
She nodded urgently, making her hair move around her sticking on the pillow in all directions.
“Are you sure?” He started moving his fingers back and forth before moving a bit so his face was hovering over hers once again. “Because we can skip this part and go for it now.”
“No!”
“Right… I wouldn’t want it to hurt…” even in her foggy state of mind she could see the way his teasing tone made him smile.
Not satisfied with the wetness he was working with at the moment, he went back to licking her to aid the lubrication. She heard him spit on his hand before the force of the now rapid movement of his fingers made her perk up.
He laughed softly when he heard her moan loudly. Lost in the sudden surge of pleasure she was feeling she had let her legs close, effectively squeezing his hand between them. Not satisfied with the limited space he had, with his free hand he palmed one of her knees, “Come on love, keep them open.” Seeing as she was taking a few seconds too long to do as he asked, he put his hand under one of her knees and pushed her leg up and out.
“Ah! Sirius, Sirius,” her hazy speech reached his ears letting him know he was making her feel good.
The change in position clearly did something for her as she was now even more wet than before, a squelch could be heard every time Sirius drilled his fingers back inside.
“Fuck, you’re making all this noise for me yeah?” His thumb had not stopped circling her clit. “Am I making your cunt feel good baby? Yeah? Because I can feel you dripping on my palm”
“Shut it Sirius, you’re embarrassing me,” she whined.
“Now why would it be embarrassing?” He furrowed his eyebrows pretending to be confused. “It’s only the truth.”
He was needing to put some strength in the hold he had of her leg as she kept twitching. He pulled his fingers out and took a good look at her semi naked body.
“Fuck man, I love your tits,” he sighed. “We really need to try that some time.”
He had not been lying when he said he could feel her dripping on the palm of his hand, now that his fingers were no longer inside of her he could feel the cold air hit his hand.
“You have to fuck me properly first before I think of letting you do that.”
“Right on it,” he said in a mock serious tone. He grabbed her other leg using his wet hand to mirror the way he was pushing her leg up while he had been fingering her. “As always, tell me if it hurts.”
“Alright.”
If he had not been spreading her legs open she would have closed them as soon as his cock started prodding her. It truly never got old, the way she felt that stinging feeling every single time he was inside her.
“Doing okay?”
“Mmm..” she hummed. Sirius noticed her lifting her head and looking down at where they were connected.
He smiled before saying, “Weren’t you embarrassed not even five minutes ago? Or were you just pretending?” He pushed a little further inside and she moaned, throwing her head back. “I know, I know.”
Her forearms trembled a little at the strain of holding herself up and having to withstand the burning sensation of his cock splitting her open.
“Aw darling, lay back. Come on.” He cooed letting one of her legs fall momentarily when he used one of his hands to push her shoulders towards the mattress.
“Why does it still hurt?” She whined, the slightest bit annoyed.
“The disadvantage of shagging with Sirius Black I suppose.”
“You’re a pest.”
He laughed. “Would you like to try it on your tummy?” He cocked his head to the side. “Come on, turn around.”
He helped her move into position. He went to grab one of her knees again, this time to lift her leg up on the bed leaving the other one how it was. “Sorry.”
“What for?” His hands grabbed her hips. “But lift your ass a bit, yes, like that my love.”
He went to try sliding inside her for a second time, this time it went remarkably easier. Nonetheless the rapid intrusion surprised her, making her lift her torso from the bed.
“Stay down.” He said before he started moving in and out. She went back down, pressing her face on the mattress to muffle some of the sounds that escaped her lips. Sirius’ hands stayed on her hips slightly squeezing them as if to ground himself. “Yeah,” he dragged the word out. “Fuck.”
“Fuck,” she mirrored him.
His head felt like it was far too small to contain his brain and the way it tried so hard not to fall victim to the overwhelming feeling of having her wrapped around him. He thought the wait was making it worse so he started moving faster.
Her moans resonated given the volume of her voice, she was now hugging a pillow.
“Is it too much, baby?”
“It’s good, it’s good, don’t stop”
“Wasn’t thinking about doing that.”
Her body was no longer resisting him and the position they were in was annoying him a bit so he lightly spanked her to make her pay attention. She looked back at him and whined.
“What now?”
He laughed with his eyes closed. “Get on your knees I want to fuck you harder,” a second after he said that she was already moving again. “Is that alright?”
“Do whatever but stop telling me to move,” Sirius smiled at the annoyance that could be heard in her tone.
As a little punishment for the attitude, he grabbed her hair in a tight fist making her arch her back in a borderline painful slope. Before she had a chance to complain again he started moving once again.
“Well then.”
They went at it for some time. The force of his thrust was enough to make his headboard bang against the wall at a rapid pace. He was tempted to undo the silencing charm just so he could brag about his night of pleasure to everyone tomorrow morning. He was anything but humble. He loved seeing the bitter expressions covering their forgettable faces when they saw him talking to her in between classes. What could bring him more satisfaction than one-upping his peers that already envied him just because of his last name.
Probably cumming inside her, his brain supplied.
Coming back to the present he turned to the side so he could take a good look at her.
Her eyes were closed in bliss and her mouth was hanging open allowing mewls to slip from her parted lips. He loved the way she blushed all over, truthfully it was quite ironic how he found her the most adorable when she was lost in pleasure.
He smiled yet again before touching her cheek with his. “Such a lovely girl you are, always so pretty.” She did not acknowledge his praise, her brain way too foggy to say anything. “So nice of you to put up with me everyday…”
“Because I love you.”
At this he grabbed her hips to stop them from moving, he won’t ever be prepared to hear those three words coming from her.
“Shit,” he laughed. “I almost came.”
He went back to leaning his face on hers before starting a new rhythm, this time two times faster. His hips snapping into her as if he was trying to make her jump, her wetness was now coating part of his upper thighs.
“Sirius!”
“I know, I know,” he smiled again, it seemed that was the only expression he could muster when the two of them made love. “You’re making my legs all dirty, nasty girl. Gonna cum now? Mmm?”
“Not yet,” she gasped.
He groaned next to her ear. “So sorry love I think I’m gonna cum now. Sorry, sorry.” He panted as he lost control of his hips. “Can I? Inside?”
The sweaty and aggravated girl nodded, lifting her arm to wrap her hand around Sirius’ head so she could stroke his hair. Understanding her answer he let go of himself effectively pairing her white.
The sudden warm sensation made her flinch and he slipped out. They both whined at the loss of contact.
Sirius’ hand quickly moved and fisted his cock squeezing it before looking at her and saying, “Did you cum?”
“No, not yet.”
“Come here then I can still go a little longer.”
“What?” He watched him sit down on the bed resting his back against the headrest, he patted his naked lap and cocked his head. “Come ride me.”
It was her turn to laugh. “You’re filthy, you know that?” At the same time she crawled up towards him to straddle him.
They made quick work of it, both impatient.
She used her knees to make her body slide up and down his length. “Atta girl, jump on it. Yeah,” this last part he said while laughing, amused by the sheer desperation he saw on her beautiful face.
He was tempted to compare her dripping cunt to a broken faucet with the way she kept leaking on him with every drag of his cock. His arm cushioned his head to avoid bumping his head on the headrest.
“Shit, shit, shit!”
“Go on love, this cock is all yours to take.”
Hearing him say that made her knees touch each other because she tried to close her legs to stop herself from cumming, it did not work. Soon enough she was coming undone, squirting everywhere.
“Oh fuck, yes, yes.” Laughed Sirius.
Only a few seconds of it happening was enough to wet everything around them. She was left twitching, her legs incapable of staying put.
“Sorry.”
He ignored her apology instead opting to grab her face to drag her towards him. Their lips connecting and melting into a symphony of unholy love. Being so spent after what had just happened she was not fully reciprocating so Sirius started to kiss her entire face.
“How do you plan on getting me out of here before class?”
He hummed. “Who said I plan on getting you out of here.”
“I have to go to class, finish my education and whatnot…”
“Have you ever thought of being a housewife, I could provide.”
“You are 17 years old.”
“A man is so much more than his age.”
“I can’t be a housewife if you don’t have a house, silly.”
“We can stay here forever, in my room. You can be a… room… wife…”
nsfw headcanons | weasley twins, harry, ron and draco.
warning: filth, don’t blame me.
❥ george weasley.
experienced. this man has slept his way through all the houses, he tends to go for hufflepuffs.
he is the type of guy that guides you through it, no teasing.
he seems like the type of guy that’s into oral sex (he prefers receiving). he is also into LOUD sex, he will try his hardest to make his partner scream just to shush her right after.
“keep it down, they’re gonna hear you” said with a straight face.
he likes to be in control without being a don.
i see him as more of an ass man…
he totally goes for tall girls, there’s just something about a woman close to his height that does it for him.
the type to ask “mmm?” with a fake sad face mocking his partner when she moans too loud.
favourite position: doggy.
❥ fred weasley.
also experienced. everyone is aware of this because he WONT shut up about it.
he likes to poke fun if his partner is not savvy enough, jokes, jokes and more jokes.
he’s into short people because that makes it easier to, you guessed it, make fun of them.
this man will ask the nastiest question the human brain could conjugate in front of everyone.
“have you ever done it prone bone?” next is the sound of everyone’s spoons hitting the floor as their mouths hang open.
if the phrase red flag was a person it would be him, but we are all blind i guess. will occasionally go for the girl george finds hot just to prove a point.
boob man 100%
he loves to give oral, he loves how shy girls get when he smiles up at them.
favourite position: standing.
❥ harry potter.
he was a virgin for the longest time and it shows.
he loves making out, sometimes you think he prefers it over sex.
he flushes all the way down to his chest, rosy patches on his pale skin.
he is on the submissive side, he loves being marked.
he asks for hickies. he likes the ones that can be seen.
he prefers taller people too, the type of dude to have a crush on Lady Dimitrescu.
eye contact. he looks at you with his eyes and mouth wide open, he pants and nods his head asking a silent question.
“yes?”
when he’s getting a blowjob he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, he’ll have them in the air clenching and unclenching a fist, trying so hard not to pull your hair.
the type of dude to say thank you lmaooooo
boob man too.
favorite position: cowgirl. DEFINITELY.
❥ ron weasley.
red flag personified part 2.
he’s such a jealous man but he won’t let you know until you’re having sex and you notice he refuses to kiss you.
he likes it rough and fast but he can somehow go for the next round not even 15 minutes after the first one.
stamina?????? hello?????
he likes to finger girls because it allows him to look at their faces and focus on the expressions they make.
he’s definitely shagged half the gryffindor tower but none of the girls brag about it??? he’s lowkey sad about it but also their loss yk what i mean.
sometimes he cries when he cums. it’s a little pathetic but it’s ron so it’s okay.
he gets off by having sex with slytherin girls, his ego loves it.
the type of dude to get into an enemies to lovers kind of deal.
“yeah? aren’t you embarrassed getting fucked by the bloke you hate?”
definitely into humiliation and degradation.
ass man.
favourite position: good old missionary.
❥ draco malfoy.
for all his mean bravado he is actually quite the gentleman.
if anyone out of these 5 men knows where the clit is it would definitely be him.
he likes it rough but not fast.
he is totally a dom but he is definitely not aware he is one, he doesn’t even know that those dynamics have names.
likes to pull girls’ hair to make them focus, he’ll even do it outside the bedroom. if you’re distracted while he’s telling you something at lunch he’ll pull your ponytail.
he is also into giving oral, opposite to fred he does it because HE likes it.
boobs boobs boobs boobs, oh how he loves boobs.
has a weak spot for girls with round faces.
“oh i’m so sorry love, such a pretty face stained with tears” all said with a very soft voice almost as if he was truly sorry.
he likes it wet, wet to the point where it sounds filthy.
Scarred And Half A Man, Chapter 2: Amends That Feel Like a Sentence.
word count: 4,7k
cw:smut, masturbation.
also forgot to mention but reader is a ravenclaw lol
The first night he joined her class he did not notice anything different in her demeanor.
She told the students Quirrell was not going to be joining her lessons again, and that Snape was to replace him. He expected the students to voice their discontent with the change and naturally he got the reactions he anticipated. They all groaned in unison, some with expressions more pained than others.
“Nothing will change, don’t fret. It is only a precaution in case an instance like the one in the girl’s bathroom were to happen again,” she walked to where the three Gryffindors were seated on the floor. “So you,” she crouched in front of them and gave them a smile. “Don’t have to play heroes again.”
“Father said it was a foolish thing to do,” said the blonde Slytherin.
“It was brave nonetheless, mister Malfoy,” she stood up and looked at where Severus was standing with his hands clasped behind his back. “Professor Snape will be here so everything stays calm in case something were to happen.”
“Father said Professor Snape is a great duelist! Why are we not learning spells so we can fight too!” Draco complained.
She started walking towards him. “I’m afraid that is education that goes far beyond my expertise,” The boy pouted. “But we can look at the stars, is that not so appealing, mister Malfoy?” It was clearly intended to be a joke and despite Draco’s usual demeanor he subtly smiled. “Yes? And like I said, Professor Snape is fully capable of defeating a troll, or a giant, or a dragon, perhaps even a werewolf,” the kids were now giggling, taking joy in her blatant teasing. “So strong that he is, your professor.”
Okay, so maybe their fight did not mean much to her if she was now complimenting him and calling him strong. If she had been mad it would have made this whole ordeal a lot more awkward than it needed to be. It seemed like it was a lucky day for him.
But years of dealing with liars and manipulators should have warned him about the possibility of her jokes just being a way to lift up the mood of the disappointed students, after all, he imagines having him present in the class that was supposed to be the most relaxing one could make any first-year feel anxious. The class went by incredibly fast, he did not even feel the need to sneak a little nap in between like he had thought of doing before walking up to the astronomy tower. He was so awake and paying such intense attention to her that he noticed whenever Harry Potter would look back to where he was standing against the wall. The kid was sitting right in front of her, Severus thinks the boy might have thought he was staring at him.
He truly did have his mother’s eyes like Dumbledore had mentioned. He chose to ignore the resemblance because even though his eyes were just like Lily’s, the rest of his appearance resembled James’. Instead he did what he knew how to do best, ignore the big thing that was plaguing his mind and he chose to torture himself with a smaller issue.
This being the way her eyes avoided his.
Prior to their argument, whenever they were in the same room she would always try to look him in the eye. Without lying, this spooked him. Because she did it even when they were not talking to each other, she would be having a conversation with Sprout but looking at him all the way across the room. She reminded him of an owl, with the big intimidating eyes. Not intimidating because they were threatening, but because they looked full of wonder, almost as if she was waiting to ask you a question you did not wish to answer.
She made a point to acknowledge his presence.
Now this was not the case.
After class ended and prefects had taken the students back to their dormitories and they were left alone. Immediately she went to put all her books and her other supplies back into her leather knapsack. Her head was down and her hair was covering half her face. Severus waited for her at the entrance so they could walk down together, his day would end when they were all in their respective chambers.
She was taking her sweet time while also managing to look tense at the same time so he walked a little closer to her desk.
He cleared his throat before speaking. “You see, all went well,” she cleared her throat back, making him think she was about to reply but no words left her mouth so he chose to talk again. “My help was not need–“
“You called me a whore,” she interrupted him.
He was left gagging. “I did not use such a word.”
“You might as well have. For you to imply I enjoy spending time alone in Professor Quirrell’s office it can only mean you think of me in that way,” when she looked up at him her eyes were filled with unshed tears once again, reminiscing of their last interaction.
“And for that I apologize, it was never my intention.”
“Your words sound rehearsed and not sincere at all,” she said in a tearful voice.
Severus furrowed his eyebrows, she was not being reasonable at all. It was very often he said hurtful things to people yet they rarely cried, twice at that. “I truly am sorry, Professor. I got carried away,” he paused for a second. “But I must say I doubt it was the first time a man talked to you like that, so sorry again if what I said hurt you. It was remarkably unprofessional on my part.”
“What do you mean by that?” She asked.
“I’m trying to explain to you why at first I did not think an apology was needed. I was wrong.”
She scoffed before wiping her eyes with one of her knuckles. “You are a scary man Severus you can hardly blame me for reacting like this,” she flipped her hair off her shoulder before fixing her knapsack strap. “Oh and I’ll have you know that being called a whore does not get easier the more it happens. I expected you to be more sensible, it seems I was mistaken for thinking you were different than most.”
Dumbfounded by the unexpected continuation of the conversation they had prior to this, Severus simply stood in place with his mouth slightly open as she started walking towards the big door. “I– what–,” he hurried to trail after her. “I am different than most,” he said, sounding like a teenager desperate to be seen as unique. “I am not like those other men you’ve met, I can assure you it won’t happen again.”
She stopped walking and turned to him. “And what kind of man are you, Severus?”
“Well I… do not make habit of calling women names, and I am professional enough to avoid having conflicts with my coworkers,” He was not exactly sure why he was stuttering trying to defend his character. “I must ask you to understand me, the women around me are nothing like you. They wouldn’t have asked for someone to supervise their classes.”
“And now you’re saying I’m not as good as the other professors! You–” she sniffed once. “Well I’m so incredibly sorry for being scared of a bloody troll attacking me while I’m looking at the stars!” She adjusted the strap of her bag again and shook her head before continuing. “I was so relieved Quirrell was replaced with you because you were the one man I trusted not to make it weird once we were left alone in the same room. But coming to think of it, maybe Professor Quirrell and his weird habit of poking me with his quill would have been better than to have you be so hostile to me.”
“I’m not hostile.”
“Are you not? Then tell me what else could I call your knack for glaring at me at any given chance, or how you laugh to yourself whenever I say something not at all amusing.”
If he was quite honest he was not expecting her to be this confrontational. “Then I ask you, what kind of man did you think I was?”
“I thought you quiet, as if your mind were filled with loud thoughts. I found you fascinating.”
“With all due respect, I am not to blame if my true self broke whatever fantasy you had of me,” The entire conversation threatened to turn his brain inside out, it was harrowing for a reason he could not pinpoint. “Like I said last time I advise you to avoid paying attention to me, that way your little head won’t be deceived by baseless assumptions.”
“Very well!”
“Very well,” he repeated menacingly. “But I want you to remember I did try to apologize.”
“If you call that an apology then I feel bad for the other women in your life. Do you use female tears to brew your potions?”
Vixen.
“Whatever I choose to do with other women is nothing you should worry about… well, you do think about me often enough that I’m sure your mind will provide vivid imaginations to quiet your questions. If you’ll excuse me,” he spat before turning around and walking, almost flying, to his chambers.
Right before he turned around a corner she yelled, “I rather spend a week with Filch and his bloody cat than to breathe near you ever again!”
So much for an apology, he thought.
By the time he got to his room his robes were making his skin itch so he practically tore them off of him. He thought, “that’s what I get for trying to apologize,” Dumbledore‘s disapproving expression last time they had talked was what finally pushed him to step on the twig. He supposes you cannot be a worthy leader if your face alone is not capable of making people do things, in this opportunity it was to make Severus feel guilty.
He went to lay down on his bed, he felt like he was about to have a heart attack.
How pathetic it was of him to be so short of breath because for once he had not won an argument. His skin felt itchy, and he also felt hot all over. For a moment he thought he was actually dying or something of the sort, his legs felt weak, his hands numb.
However, even if he kept his interactions with the female gender as scarce as he could, he was not clueless. He knew very well that what he was feeling in that very moment had little to do with anger and annoyance.
He knew his body was betraying him. There was no other explanation as to why he felt the exact same way he remembered feeling back when he was a foolish teenager who got excited after that older Hufflepuff girl stroked his hair once. He was being utterly pathetic.
He was aware his brain was his best asset. The one thing he focused on training. He had never regretted not paying more attention to his body as he did at that moment, for it was acting on its own accord. Leave it to his body to feel aroused after having an argument with the one attractive woman he knew.
Was it adrenaline? Because he had read about how after surviving dangerous situations, some peoples circulatory systems acted up out of nowhere. After all she could be quite scary when the smile had been wiped off her face.
It would have been so much easier if her face were not so alluring. Because Severus was anything but blind.
His dexterity had more to do with his immunity to people's tricks, but he would be foolish to deprive himself of appreciating someone’s beauty. Honestly, that was all there was to her. He thought of her as a pretty shell lacking of a pearl on the inside.
He had long given up on denying her appeal, although he had never expected himself to take after the silly man that trailed after her because of her appearance. He was better than them in every aspect.
But clearly enough, even if his intelligence excelled those of the most noble men, he was only a man at the end of the day.
She was nothing like those aristocratic wives he got to see a couple times a year, no, to him she was a childish woman who seemed to have been raised by parents made out of cotton. With the way she so foolishly treated everyone as if they were dear to her. He supposes her personality could also be seen reflected on her overall appearance, she looked naïve. Why were her cheeks permanently rosey? She looked agitated all day long. She was not overly slim and her limbs were not long and elegant like those of McGonagall for example. She did not possess the finesse Narcissa Malfoy did.
The more he thought about her the more he realized she left a lot to desire if she wished to be called a woman.
But sincerely, who was he trying to fool when even though he barely saw her as a woman, he was still laying on his bed with a prominent erection in his pants. It was as if he was trying to convince an audience when he was the only one in that room. The shame was so great he battled his thoughts for a couple minutes.
He was aroused, that much was clear.
Carnal needs were not something he was much to acquainted with, but even someone like him knew a night of rest would not come easily if he chose to ignore the problem. It was safe to say that he was very much a novice of masturbation. To him it always felt degrading, but when the time came he knew he had to get on with it.
With his cheeks burning as if he were standing right above a boiling cauldron, he sat up and moved to the edge of his bed. Removing all his clothes made it all seem more real than his brain would like it to be, so he chose to pull down his trousers along with his undergarments. It had been so long since he succumbed to the last resort that masturbation was, that he hesitated a few seconds before he placed his hand around his penis. At first his hand felt like that of a stranger, because of course, it was now that his brain decided to try to detach itself from the situation. But it was far too late.
Shaking his head as if to clear it up, he squeezed. His loud moan echoing in the room and going back to his ears, this made him feel humiliated. But he had to keep going. Noticing the way the touch of his hand against his skin was too dry, he took his hand near his mouth and licked his palm. Quickly returning to what it was doing prior. His thin bony fingers making a sound that was nothing but torture to Severus’ ears, what he was doing at that moment was a confirmation about what she had told him.
He was in fact, like those other men. Because here he was, masturbating after having a conversation with her. And of course, how could he not make up an image of her in his brain while he was working himself up.
In the hazy fantasy that bedeviled his mind, she had a wild look on her face. Her eyebrows furrowed the same way they had been when they were fighting, her cheeks even more cherry than usual. All in all she painted a perfect picture of what one would describe as anger and frustration. Because oh, his weak state of mind at the moment let him entertain the idea of finding her attractive when she looked displeased by him. There was something so inherently arousing about a normally sweet woman that went feral over a stupid man.
He never thought himself to be someone with a liking for degradation of any sort, that had not changed now even though his hand was quickly going up and back down on his cock. But Merlin, imagining her being angry at him more often sure did wonders for his otherwise dead libido.
By now, the hand he was not using was supporting his body as it leaned back a little, his head thrown back in place. He opened his legs wider because he felt like he was about to fall to the ground even though he was sitting on his bed. Being inexperienced when it came to self pleasure, he did not know what he wanted. He was not sure if he wanted it fast and to hurt a little, or if he wanted to drag it out. So he tried both.
He started by borderline abusing his cock, he went up and down and in a matter of seconds his skin turned a little red due to the friction.
“Fuck,” he whimpered pathetically. His voice going an octave higher, making him sound like a whiny and desperate man. Nothing like the way he presented himself.
When the pleasure started to gloss his eyes over he let himself indulge in his fantasies. He promised himself it would be the last time he let that happen.
He noticed the way her hands were always manicured. It would be a sight to have one of them wrapped around him. She would not be talkative, he thought she was the type to get straight to it. The only voice filling up the room would be his.
“That okay?” She would ask.
At that mental image he moaned even louder. He squeezed the base of his cock because he felt on edge, the pain made him come back to reality. That reality being himself sitting on his bed, with his clothes all pulled in funny ways so he could have access to his penis, his knees almost touching because of how good he was feeling. His entire body curled into itself.
He thought retaking the position he was in before that was the smartest decision. So he went back to supporting his weight on one of his arms, his neck relaxing again.
His wet hand started stroking himself again. The squelching noise being amplified by the fact that his eyes were closed, giving his ears more to focus on. By this point he felt like his body did not know how to react to all the sensations he was not used to. The utter ignorance made him end up tightening his fist around the head and thrust his hips upwards. And good Merlin, did that do it for him.
He went at it for a few very short minutes before he was involuntary standing up, still fucking his fist.
He thought he must have looked like a madman, all alone in his room, groaning like a rabid dog and fucking his hand. Doing all that while standing on his legs and looking at the ceiling.
It was not long before he came all over the carpet at the end of his bed.
The shame being entirely too much for him so he decided to ignore the stain for now, getting rid of it would be a task for the Severus of tomorrow.
He did not have more than a few months to feel bad about what he did. And yes, months is a short time for Severus, considering the fact he was the type to beat himself up for years. That being said, his wallowing was cut short abruptly because of Harry Potter.
Yes.
If Severus was the type to drown in self pity, Harry Potter was the type to have a teacher try to kill him even though he was barely eleven.
Sometimes he wondered if having the Harry Potter at Hogwarts was putting the rest of the students in danger. Never in the history of the school had a teacher carried a dark wizard on the back of his head. It was mental.
The fidgety man managed to fool almost everyone, including the Gryffindor trio who would go out of their way to make students shut their mouths whenever Quirrell stuttered and laughter filled the classroom. But a man experienced with deception such as Severus could not be outwitted. Bloody Quirrell had been scheming the entire time just as Severus had suspected. His injured leg could not have been enough proof to tell the rest of the school staff but it had been enough for Dumbledore to believe him. So to say the revelation came as a surprise to everyone would have been a lie.
Harry Potter had survived yet again thanks to Lily’s sacrifice. As it seemed the Dark Lord stood no chance against the love of a mother. And because Severus was a selfish man, he found a way to make it about himself. He thought Lily always accomplished her task of reminding him just how deep of a mark she had left in him, even after all these years. Previous to this ordeal the only woman in his mine was the other professor. He was occupied avoiding her while also thinking about her face all the hours he spent awake. She was honestly poisoning him. But now looking at Harry’s eyes all he could think about was the obsolete possibility of him ever moving on. After all, Lily's child depended on him now. Those big bright eyes looking up at him as he stood next to the burnt body of his professor made him feel guilty for ever thinking about other women.
Women were a distraction. He supposes everything is a distraction when the life of a child depends on you entirely, because to him Dumbledore’s words were nothing but null promises to make himself sound like a martyr. At the end of the day Harry Potter was going to be his responsibility for the next six years
After all was done Dumbledore took Harry and his friends to his office where McGonagall was already waiting, next to her was sitting the very woman tormenting his thoughts. The small Weasley child started wailing as soon as the woman gave him a little sad smile, apparently her face alone acted as some sort of switch for tears as the other two brats threatened to drown everyone in the room with the tears rolling down their cheeks. A sea of tears, quite literally. The student next to his friends was putting on a tough guy façade, he didn’t join the hug she was offering. It was honestly a sorry sight, it was enough to move Severus and his ice cold heart so he turned around as if it was also his responsibility to avoid hurting Harry Potter’s ego.
So that is how he chose to spend the next hour or so, filling a space in the room with the other teachers who were also not the best at comforting scared children. Ronald Weasley cried until his eyes resembled potatoes.
“Oh but Harry was so brave, wasn’t he?” She said, letting the question hang in the air as she had not asked that to anyone in particular. She only meant to comfort the boy in a way that did not require physical contact.
Harry simply nodded, sniffing before replying. “I did not give him the stone,” he said.
“So I heard Harry. What a brave boy you are.” Ronald’s yawn interrupted her before she could continue.
Dumbledore clasped his hands as he moved to stand up, “ I believe it is time you three go to the dormitories, Merlin knows Harry needs it.”
“I’m quite alright sir,” he said eyeing his sleepy friend that had yet to let go of the other professor.
She shook her head and gently touched the ginger boy’s head. “It’s for the best you all go,” she looked at Severus. “Could you walk them to their common room?”
Dumbfounded by her voice being directed at him, all he did was nod. “Let us go then, children.”
“Ah! C-could you go with us, Miss?” Granger nervous voice reach his ears. “It’s, umm… Girl stuff…” she trailed. It was so clearly a lie to everyone in the office but they all pretended to be none the wiser
The children feared him.
“Oh yes. I’ll go too so we can talk.”
They made their way to the Dormitories remarkably fast. The Weasley boy trailing after Harry and flinching at any shadow his eyes saw, while Harry and Granger walked close to the woman.
When they reached the Gryffindor door Harry turned around before going in and looked at her. “Were you a Gryffindor too?” His big light eyes looked at her in wonder.
“No, I’m a Ravenclaw. I’m all brains no bravery I’m afraid, nothing like you three.” The fourth of them giggled. “So thank you Harry, thank you for keeping us safe.”
The boy let out a silly giggle that served to remind Severus just how young he truly was, he found him quite annoying most days so it was easy for him to forget Harry Potter was an eleven year old. “Always Miss.”
“Now, inside you go come on,” she ushered them in. She turned to look at Granger and cocked her head. “Or did you still want to talk Hermione?”
“No. I must have forgotten.” She said with a tinkle in her brown eyes, the same thing Severus could see in the woman’s eyes. They seemed to be sharing a joke only the two of them could understand.
“Alright then, have a good night.”
The trio voiced their goodbyes and disappeared. As soon as they were out of their sight, she looked at him and said, “How do you do it?”
“Do what exactly?”
“Lie to them, I mean,” quickly realizing her words had come off as an attack, she rushed to say, “I meant, how do you lie to Harry Potter. How do you make him feel safe when you know he’s clearly not.”
“Well I’m not sure yet, this is the first Harry Potter I meet.” She shook her head while looking at the floor to hide the smile his lame attempt at a joke had caused.
She sighed. “It’s not fair, this poor child has so much coming his way. He’s just a boy.”
Severus simply made a noise in agreement. “In this world most situations are not fair.”
“I suppose you’re right,” she lifted her hand to fix the hair framing her face. Her skin looked dull, unlike her every day self. He though that if she took everything that happened to students so serious she was bound to burn out soon enough. “How have you been Severus, it feels like I only ever see the back of your head.”
“Must I remind you we see each other every Wednesday.”
“But even then we don’t talk, do we?”
Was she really attempting to rekindle ON they spent months acting like the other one did not exist. How dare she try to, in her own way, apologize when he was the one that made her cry. “Don’t go there.”
“I just feel like engaging in petty fights is overkill when the school could take one of us out any day.”
“Not very optimistic are you?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about.”
She looked at him through her curled lashes for a few seconds too long before reaching out with her hand to pat him on the head as if he was a bloody dog in need of affection. She smiled before opening her mouth again, “We must be at least in good terms in case something bad happens. I would not enjoy asking for help if we are on that terms, you’ll find I’d rather die than ask for saving if I don’t like someone.”
“Very well then.”
And because Severus was not used to blushing he made a quick exit to go back to his chambers so he could drink a feel-well potion as he was clearly coming down with something given the heat on his face.
i want all the people that are reading my snape fic to know that in that universe he is a virgin.. yeah, a 30 year old virgin because when i read works where he is a sex god i’m like… who he been fuckin 🤨 let’s be fr!!!! (i’m joking, he is a virgin in my story bc it has to do with the plot)
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