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abiiors · 9 months ago

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chocolate // ross macdonald x reader

valentine's week - day 2: love potion

a/n: this is about abiior ross specifically hehe (short hair, shot beard etc) cw: use of aphrodisiacs against their knowledge (lets suspend our belief there), masturbation (f), implied voyeurism, unprotected sex oops (they're too horny to think it through) wc: 4k

sweet taste of chocolate dissolves on your tongue as elena continues to recount her latest holiday to belgium. she has that “just back from holiday” tan on her and you laugh along to her stories, popping another square of chocolate in your mouth while sorting through the pile of gifts she’s brought for everyone.

a heap of chocolate wrappers sits between the two of you and you’re certain you have enough sugar in you to feed a small village—still, the sweetness lingers on your tongue and makes you sigh wistfully every time you think about it.

“i’m seeing ross later,” you slip in quietly when she takes a breath between her rambling and elena’s eyes go round.

“seeing him seeing him? you finally asked him out?”

your head hangs in shame at the question and you can’t help the wince that leaves you. elena tsks. “oh babe, come on! he’s such a sweet guy and he clearly likes you back.”

“you don’t know that!”

several seconds pass and elena arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow. she’s right, you know she’s right. you’ve had this silly, desparate crush for six months now and you should have done the mature adult thing of asking him out. but your heart races every time he’s near and every single word in your head disappears along with all sane and rational thoughts.

“well,” you shrug, “can i take some chocolate for him? he’s got a sweet tooth.”

elena smirks and flicks your hand away before you can reach for one.

“only if you promise to ask him out. a coffee date. that’s as casual as it gets!”

you blanch at her but she stands her ground forcing you to at least mull it over in your head.

once again, she is right. you can ask him out for a coffee and pretend it’s just a friendly little thing if the vibes seem purely platonic. you’ll figure it out. you know you will.

scrunching your eyes shut, you give in. “fine… fine, i’ll do it.”

elena squeals, pulling you into a tight hug. you giggle at her excitement but let the butterflies take flight in your stomach. once she lets go, she points behind her.

“the fridge has a better selection. go take as many as you want.”

you’re out of the chair and halfway to the kitchen before she’s even done speaking, big goofy grin on your face at the thought of meeting him later and teasing him when he inhales the chocolates faster than humanly possible.

the fridge is messy as usual—half empty bottles of milk, some past their expiry date, opened bags of cheese and old chinese takeout. you ignore all of it and dig your way to the back to find the rest of them (in elena’s little hidden space in the fridge to keep it away from her boyfriend).

most of them are the usual ones and you take a few to put it in your bag. a new one catches your eye—it’s just a simple black square with a golden heart embossed on the cover, not one you’ve tried yet and it instantly piques your interest so you take two of them and put the bag back in its place.

then you close the fridge and make your way back to the living room.

the backstage at the band’s practice show is chaos incarnate. everyone’s in a rush to set up things in their proper place. the props are strewn on the stage, waiting for their permanent place, the instruments are neatly arranged in a corner and ross is leaning against the wall, cigarette in one hand, phone in the other. his thumb scrolls on his screen. a second later, he snorts, types something on his phone and you feel yours buzzing in your pocket with an incoming text.

it makes your silly heart skip a beat.

his head snaps up when you clear your throat. a warm smile spreads across his face, and he quickly stubs out his cigarette, tossing it into a nearby bin.

“didn't expect to see you here so bright and early," he says, pushing off the wall to approach you. at his full height, ross is nearly a head taller. on top of that, he’s been working out and staying fit, his beard’s sparser than it was before, his hair neatly cut and gelled back perfectly.

ross looks devastatingly handsome, a proper rockstar. you look like… you.

“wanted to see you–uh, see what you were getting up to,” you hope the breathlessness stays out of your voice, you hope he hasn’t noticed you blatantly checking him out.

all that goes flying out the window the moment he gathers you into a hug. his body is warm and solid, his t-shirt soft and familiar. the scent of his aftershave surrounds you thoroughly, invades all your senses until you just debate throwing all caution to the wind and jumping him right here.

the hug lasts longer than you would have expected.

when he pulls back there’s a faint flush on his cheeks (probably the heating, you rationalise) and a wide grin on his face.

“are you excited?”

“to watch you play? always!”

you cringe at how eager it sounds, how desperate. fortunately, ross giggles and offers you his arm.

“come on, let me give you a tour.”

twenty minutes later, you’re back where you started, arm in arm and excited about the concept of the new show, about their new setlist and the live debuts of some new tracks. ross is already beaming with excitement and his eyes crinkle in they way they do only when he’s genuinely happy. it’s infectious. more often than not you find yourself staring at him and giving him a loopy smile.

utterly fucking love-sick.

“jamie’s gone all out too,” he continues. “there’s a whole dressing arena for us even though this isn’t a real show. we wanted to try out a couple styles i guess.”

“oh, you’re a fashion icon now?” you tease and he rolls his eyes fondly.

“let me show you what patti’s got for us,” he offers and once again, you take his arm and follow him to some corner of the arena.

the dressing room is pretty much what you’d expected—a room full of mirrors and closet doors. there’s a sofa in the corner and bottles of water on the table. clothes are scattered across chairs and hanging on racks, each outfit carefully selected for the show, each outfit a statement aesthetic for every member on stage.

and that’s pretty much it.

you plop onto the sofa. moments later ross does the same, slinging an arm around your shoulder that’s almost-a-cuddle-but-not-really. you desperately pray he can’t hear your hammering heart that’s almost in your throat now. he’s so cool and casual, so comfortable in the silence. you on the other hand, desperately feel the need to fill it.

“elena’s back from her holiday. stole some chocolates from her stache for you.”

his playful grin returns and ross straightens eagerly. “you really are a sweetheart.”

the word does funny things to your insides, almost like there’s an entire flock of birds going haywire in there until his hands comes to rest on your knee and every thought in your head goes quiet.

“go on then, show us what you got.”

one by one you pull them out—bonbons and candy and silly little heart-shaped sweets that were everywhere in preparation for valentine’s day. his face lights up like a kid at christmas, he unravels the nearest sweet, moaning at its sweetness dissolving on his tongue just like you had.

you stare at him unabashedly.

“i got this too,” you pull out the two black squares, handing him one. “dunno what they are but they looked fancy enough. i haven’t tried them yet though.”

together, you unwrap them and look at the dark square inside. they look nothing special, they smell like regular dark chocolate too. perhaps they’re a little richer than the ones before, slightly better but he shrugs and moves on to the next bonbon.

you do the same.

if the arena was chaotic before, it’s damn near cocophonous now. somewhere, someone’s yelling for all the instruments to be moved. jamie and matty are in a heated discussion with a few other creative consultants. adam has his headphones in and he’s plucking something on the guitar. george is nowhere to be seen and ross is on stage making sure his bass is tuned just the way he wants it.

you take the moment to stare at him while he’s busy. a stubborn strand of hair escapes onto his forehead, falling into his eyes while he focuses on the bass in his hands. his mouth is parted in concentration, eyebrows scrunched together with an adorable little crease in between.

a quick thought flashes in your brain—what would it be like to walk up to him and straddle him right now? to set his bass aside and demand his attention in a way you’ve never even imagined before. to kiss away his frown until everyone and everything in the room fades away into the background.

the butterflies in your stomach come back with a vengeance. ross shifts in his seat.

“will you settle a debate for us, love?” matty’s voice startles you enough that you almost stumble back but he’s already passionately begun explaining the dilemma.

you try to focus on him, you really do. usually, it’s fun to give your input on things, fun to listen to his everchanging and eccentric ideas as he tries to explain his vision in a cohesive way. but your attention can’t stop drifting to the man on stage.

your eyes can’t seem to move away from his fingers as they pick string after string.

heat simmers under your skin at the sight of them. interestingly enough, ross fidgets with the collar of his t-shirt and wipes a few beads of sweat off his forehead.

“are you… listening?” matty snaps his fingers, his face contorted in a puzzled look while jamie looks on impatiently.

“sorry, i—”

before you have the chance to finish again, they’re back at each other’s throats, bickering like an old married couple. you don’t even notice when they walk away and their voices peter out. you keep your eyes trained on ross and the hollow of his throat and his hands. subconsciously, you clench your thighs together.

what the fuck is wrong with you.

this isn’t the time or place to be horny. and yet the more strings he plucks, they more it reverberates through your entire body and makes your head spin with lust and heat. this is getting out of control and you cannot fucking figure out the reason behind it.

hurriedly, you make your way back to the dressing room. it’s deserted by now—everyone including the band and the crew are by the stage. it’s your luck that the room isn’t locked, that not a single person seems to be in this part of the arena.

you chest heaves as you slam the door shut, beelining to the sofa in a fucking daze. the chocolate wrappers from before sit innocently in the bin in the corner. you struggle with a bottle of water, gulping in down in hopes that it would cool you just a little. some of it spills down your top, the cotton sticks to your skin and the feel of it against your nipples feels overwhelming. electric, if you are being honest.

curses spil from your lips as you throw yourself on the sofa, on the left side of it, where ross had sat before. your mind conjures up the scent of his aftershave again, the feel of his hand on your knee, and you imagine it trailing up—fingers testing and taunting until they’re at the waistband of your jeans. until they’re dipping inside your underwear and swiping through your slick folds.

your breath catches and your hand drifts to the crotch of your jeans.

maybe if you could just take the edge off a bit. maybe if you could just do this and then never think of it again and then go back to to your day and never look ross in the eye ever again. your cunt pulses in rhythm with your heartbeat, which is already racing faster than it should be.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think of him then. his body hovering on top of yours, pressing down on top of you until he sinks into you so deep that you feel him in your gut. you think of his lips, fucking perfect and so out of your leage. you think of the calloused pad of his fingers tracing your lip, your cupid’s bow.

against your better judgment, you sink further into the sofa, running your hands on your breasts, stomach, the insides of your thighs, all the while imagining how ross’ calloused fingers felt on your back and waist the countless times you'd hugged before. how they would feel in other places.

it’s fucking depraved but the thrill of it feels so sinfully good that you can’t stop your fingers from tracing circles over your clit—languid and loose.

your fingers feels too small, too soft. this isn’t what your body wants. it desperately craves him but he’s busy doing his actual job. your ears ring with the bloodrush and every touch against your skin feels like a zap of electricity passing through you.

one hand buried deep between your legs and the other kneading and massaging your nipples, you are on cloud nine. once or twice, you bite your lip to keep the moans down but what’s the point? the solid concrete walls would keep all the sounds inside anyway.

your pants fill the room, sweat gathers on your forehead and you feel it drawing closer, some semblance of a release at least. through the haze you see ross standing by the door, still as a statue, his mouth slightly open.

“ross…” you moan softly, willing this hallucination to come closer, to replace your hands with his, and finish what you started, but he doesn’t move.

a second passed by and then another, and then as if you’ve been doused with cold water, your entire body goes numb and cold.

he’s here. he’s not a hallucination or a figment of your lust-filled imagination, he is really. fucking. here.

you go cold and then hot again, sure that your entire face—hell, your entire body—has gone beetroot red. helplessly, you scramble to get your hands away from you, as if that would salvage anything at this point. as if that would wipe his memory of the last five minutes.

how did he even get here without you hearing so much as a creak? and you’d just moaned his name for fuck’s sake. the blood drains from your face, your heart stutters—this time for all the wrong reasons.

‘ross…’ your voice sounds all high-pitched and thin. all wrong and panicked.

ross only stalks toward you, deliberately slow and graceful, and stops a few inches away from the sofa. too far, the pervy part of your brain chimes in, he’s still standing a bit too far away. his eyes look dark and stormy, his face utterly fucking calm.

you try to suppress the tremor in your limbs, try to look anywhere but at him. (ideally, you try to look for something sharp to stab yourself with) and it’s then that your body betrays your entirely. slowly, as if against your will, your eyes slide down his body and linger on the bulge in his trousers. hard and prominent and fucking big enough to make you salivate despite the current situation.

“what are you doing here?” the words comes out as a weak whisper.

“watching you.”

his voice sounds deep and husky, with a dangerous edge to it. his eyes roam all over your body, or whatever’s visible of it—over your stomach and a sliver of underboob—and heat, more intense than you felt just minutes before, floods your entire body.

and yet, you still can’t look him in the eye.

“you are fucking stunning,” he breathes.

the words make your brain short-circuit. hastily, you try to cover your face, wishing for the earth to swallow you whole and spit you out into some parallel universe where ross just doesn’t exist anymore.

“oh, baby,” he tuts, moving closer until you’re face-to-face, and even now it isn’t enough. inspite of your humiliation, you want him closer, on top of you, and under your skin, and inside you, pounding into you until you are dumb and drooling.

he hooks a finger under your chin, tilting it up so that you have no choice but to look him in the eye. your mouth goes dry at the sight of them. his pupils are dilated to the point where his hazel eyes are almost completely black.

“don’t–don’t hide from me… you have no idea how long, i…” the rest of it dies on his lips when you whimper. your body feels liquid, blood flowing through your veins like molten lava, searing every inch of skin that’s begging for his touch.

“so touch me then,” the voice that comes out of you is pathetic, needy, but you can’t care less right now. if you had to stay in this state of limbo anymore the flimsy little thread holding the last of your sanity together would snap.

agonisingly slow, he pulls his t-shirt over his head. his chest gleams with sweat, tattoos starkly visible against his pale skin and you want to trace each and every one of them with your tongue, memorise all the grooves of his body with your fingers, fill up his scent into your lungs until it’s all you can smell.

just in his trousers now, he settles over you, knee pressed between your wide-open legs, brushing against your clothed clit. you hiss at the barest of touches. ross looking down at you is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, enough that you moan his name again. and again when he kisses you, softly at first and then harder, urgent and feverish.

his hands toy with the hem of your top and you nod fervently, eager to be rid of it. his tongue traces every inch of your mouth.

“just how i imagined you would taste,” he breathes in between kisses, and the words spear through the haze in your brain, burrowing themselves deep in there.

“you thought about how i’d taste?”

tenderly, he kisses your jaw, peppers a few more kisses on your cheek. “every moment of these last few months.”

you say something unintelligible, dumbstruck by how fucking sweet he sounds in the middle of everything. his hand trails up and down your spine, raising goosebumps in their wake, while his mouth continues to kiss your jaw, your neck, your cleavage. all you can do is tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him as close as you possibly can. unable to take it any longer, you fumble with the buckle of his belt, undoing the button and unzipping his trousers till you can palm him through his boxers. in spite of them still covering him, you moan at how big he feels, how deliciously thick and hard.

something in him snaps at the sound. it’s as if he’d been holding back until now, but now he grabs the hem of your top and slips it clean off you. his discarded trousers join the small heap on the floor and he takes one of your nipples in his mouth while pinching the other between his fingers.

“i need you inside me. please ross…”

“ride me,” he says instantly and you nod, flipping until he’s on the sofa and you’re on his lap, fumbling to get out of your jeans and underwear while he pulls his boxers down.

with one hand around your waist, ross lifts you up until his tip’s grazing your cunt. “go on darling, you can take me,” his voice trembles with barely controlled restraint. and you might as well be his puppet because you obey instantly, sinking onto him until he’s deep inside you, until you feel the delicious stretch and burn.

your gasp makes him groan.

his fingers grip your face gently, moving it to make you look at the giant mirrors next to you, at your bodies locked together.

“look at you…” he moans and thrusts up into you. you mewl at the suddenness of it, but it’s impossible to look away from the image in the mirror. you bouncing on his cock, rutting and moving your hips, shamelessly chasing ecstasy. his face slack with pleasure, his eyes roaming all over your body, taking in every inch of it while you take in every inch of him.

his thrusts are slow in the beginning, punishing almost and you try to increase the pace, digging your nails into his shoulders, until he’s smiling smugly at all the desperately written so clearly all over your face.

“faster,” you almost beg and he obliges instantly, going deeper and deeper with each thrust. his fingers work at your clit again; pinching and rubbing, until you can no longer look at the mirror, can’t look at anything as your eyes roll back into your head and stars wink on the insides of your lids.

filthy words fill the room mixed with groans and moans from both of you. it almost feels like a trance—to feel him so deep inside you that your head buzzes, pleasure coild in your belly and you squirm and writhe, trying to feel more of him, greedy and insatiable.

heat builds in your stomach, the feeling from before starts at the base of your spine again, travelling up until it’s spreading throughout your body, to your fingertips. from the way ross’ thrusts turn wild and erratic, you know he’s close too.

“you feel so good, so–so fucking perfect,” you tell him, trying to get the words out in between moans and gasps.

“oh baby,” he coos, “we are fucking perfect together, aren’t we.”

frantically, you nod, capturing his mouth in another feverish hot kiss. “yes, yes.”

because that’s what you’ve been dying to hear for months now, dying to know that he felt the same want and yearning you did.

when the orgasm finally hits, you almost black out, eyes rolling to the back of your head. your loud moans fill the room, overshadowing any sounds he makes, but you’re too far gone to care. the sound undoes him within moments and ross thrusts hard into you, cumming with a loud groan. you feel the cum spilling in you and running down your thighs, sticky and wet.

vaguely, you’re aware if slumping forward and pressing your face into his chest. ross strokes your hair softly until you can get your breathing back to normal.

you giggle in his chest when the conversation with elena springs back into your mind. it feels so far away now, like it happened days ago instead of hours ago.

“what?” ross asks, sounding a bit amused.

“i was supposed to ask you out for coffee. elena dared me, in exchange for the chocolate.”

he giggles at your answer, pressing a quick kiss on your head, which instantly makes your heart melt.

“those chocolates were… something.”

you snort. that’s one way to put it. finally, you pull away, looking at him properly for the first time. his face is flushed and coated in sweat but he looks… happy. more than you’ve seen him before.

“so… coffee?” you bite your lip, irrationally shy now of all times.

ross kisses you in response, sweet and slow, a proper chaste kiss as if you’re not sat on his lap, still naked and dripping with his cum. but you kiss him back equally slow, giggling like a teenager.

“like you have to ask.”

lemme know what you think <33

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exhaustedcatte · 9 months ago

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Marauders Code

“We’ve got each other’s backs, no matter what,” the four wizards chanted as they performed a blood-binding oath illegally in their dormitory.

Remus was sent straight into McGonagall’s office, where she stared at him from behind her eyeglasses.

“Mister Lupin,” she raised a brow. “Sit, please.”

He sat, weary and suddenly tired of everything that had happened.

McGonagall exhaled sharply. “What’s this about you breaking a nose, then?”

Remus lifted his left shoulder listlessly, “He was being a dic– berk to Sirius and. Well. Yeah.”

He didn’t disclose that the three boys had spent the morning cheering up Sirius after the awful, long winded howler he’d gotten from home. And just when the boy had begun to laugh, that stupid fucking idiot Yaxley had come and rained over their progress.

But Remus’ pre-moon jitters had slithered down his arm, which shot out at the older boy’s nose, breaking it upon contact.

In the four years his friends had known him, Remus’d always been mild and patient. It helped his self-esteem to be something other than a monster, but exceptions, he’d come to learn, had to be made. Quite like Sirius Black.

James and Peter had stared at him with pure admiration and Sirius gaped at him with wide, grateful eyes.

“S’alright,” he’d said awkwardly when he retrieved his arm, unscathed, from a yowling Yaxley’s face. “Worth a detention.”

“Damn right!” James hollered, tackling Remus carefully, aware of his pre-moon pains, despite his excitement.

“Moony,” Peter breathed, “You’re brill!”

Remus offered a half smile as he followed a prefect down to McGonagall’s office.

That was fourth year.

In fifth year, Sirius was the one who was laden with detention.

He’d been skidding down the stairs using a dandy charm that him and Remus had been practising for a prank.

Sirius slid down the marble steps directly into a gossip session.

“He’s such a peacock,” one of them groaned.

“Gosh, I know! And did you see how he kept babying Pettigrew in Transfig? Like he’s some kind of genius, what a git!”

Sirius frowned. Peter? James was the one who partnered with—oh.

He listened closer, sneaking up on them from behind. And of course. Evans, MacDonald, McKinnon, Fortescue.

“Potter’s inflated ego–”

James had been assisting Peter with the lesson, one that Peter had read up on with Remus but while Remus had succeeded in his second try, Peter was struggling in his twenty second.

He was reassuring a boy who needed to be reminded that sometimes things take time and that was quite alright. That it didn’t speak to your intelligence or your capabilities. These girls, who hated James purely because he was smarter than them (okay, so Sirius knew James could be a right twat, but not this time), could go straight to hell.

Sirius grinned.

He followed them behind a Disillusionment charm that he’d perfected over the winter-break at Hogwarts and spelled every staircase they took to bring them back to the same hallway. After several attempts of them running away but landing right in front of the same charms classroom, he gave in and appeared in front of their frazzled beings.

“That’ll teach you not to speak on what you don’t know,” he said coldly.

Needless to say, McGonagall was furious at him for making them skip class and gave him a week of scrubbing trophies in Filch’s office. They became fast friends after that incident though, so no harm done.

James was running late.

He had to take notes for Remus, who was lying stock still in the infirmary, Skele-gro working on his bones. Sirius was keeping watch, having dropped Herbogy in their sixth year; he had Os in every subject, he could drop anything he wished.

James dashed into the Greenhouses right behind Sprout, barely squeezing in as the glass doors slid shut. Peter waved from their spot in the corner.

Their lesson was not very fun since they were with the know-it-alls. Ravenclaws were either amiable, or they had claws.

“You’d think he’d handle plants better, with how much he eats them,” Billy whatsit sneered at Peter.

Peter wilted like his Aconite. James felt fury rise in his throat.

“Gluttony,” one girl simpered cruelly.

“Look at those love handles on him,” a third one said. “I don’t understand how he’s a Marauder.”

“Pity friendship, I think. One would think he’s a Squib,” Billy gurgled.

James rose to his feet. “Professor Sprout? I think Billy Blabbermouth and his lackeys are having trouble here.”

The class turned to them.

He hexed the trio publicly. It was a silly one, helped jog your memory, repeat your previous words (he’d used it plenty on Sirius when he was fumbling around Remus like a shy maiden).

Billy and his friends looked aghast as their disgusting words came pouring out at Sprout’s face. She took a hundred points off them, and handed detention for the next two weeks.

“Thanks James,” Peter whispered.

“Of course, mate.”

James also got detention for hexing a student in class, but he took it happily, Remus was minding that detention as Prefect anyway.

In their last year, Remus had come back with a long wooden cane, much to his chagrin.

His body couldn’t carry his weight right after the moons, so he’d been forced into a magnificent cane with a golden lion at the head. They had tried to make him feel better about it but Remus was a creature of self-reliance, of pride.

Remus hated it, Peter knew.

It happened on their way to breakfast.

Peter was behind the other three boys, voted as the one to lie to Mary about their Halloween plans (they were planning on transforming all the beds into pumpkins; no, they weren’t going to be creepy about it—mirror charms, duh), when Davey Smith traipsed past them and tripped Remus.

Remus fell down like a bag of bricks, red-faced and irate, unable to retaliate after the moon and otherwise (monster, monster, Remus chanted to himself to prevent himself from snapping, Peter knew).

Sirius and James helped him up, jaws locked with anger, as their first priority was to check on their friend.

Smith jeered. “Feet useless, cane broken, face cut up. What kind of an ugly invalid are you, Lupin?”

Davey Smith, jealous of Remus simply because he’d been asked out by Davey’s crush. What a piece of work.

“Sirius, no. James, put your wand down,” Remus sighed. “Smith, kindly get lost.”

Peter smiled. He’d not been warned. “Sorry, Mary, duty calls!”

He turned into Wormtail behind an armour and scurried up an unsuspecting Davey’s pant leg.

Wormtail bit into the Hufflepuff’s flesh.

Davey howled.

McGonagall swept into the hall, took one look at Remus, at the anger tinged faces of James and Sirius and Peter’s self-satisfied expression. Then she noticed Davey, who was flopping about the hallway embarrassingly.

“Mr Pettigrew,” McGonagall ground out tightly, “I don’t know what you’ve done, but his thigh is bleeding! Detention for the week. And Mr Smith, we will have a Talk after Madam Pomfrey is done with that gash. No Hogsmeade for the rest of the term for you.”

Peter smiled benignly. “I’ll be there, professor.”

She whisked Smith away, scolding him for hurting her kids, no doubt.

“Pete! That was fab!” Sirius laughed and James thumped his back. “Wish I could’ve given him rabies, but you might’ve done me up with plague.”

Remus was rolling his eyes, but a smile was hooking his mouth up in the corners, “I should know better by now, eh? Of course one of you will rush to defend my honour.”

“It’s what you deserve Moony,” Peter said, smiling.

Really, they’d always have each other’s backs. Until the very end.

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lolathestoryteller · 7 months ago

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Who asked who? (April 6th prompt; Humiliate) @jilymicrofics

James watches Lily from across the room, her perfect lips turned up in an ever so beautiful smile as she listens to whatever her friend, Mary Macdonald, is telling her.

I’m going to humiliate myself, he thinks, before reluctantly looking away from her to glance at Remus standing next to him.

„Just ask her, James.“ Remus encourages, giving his shoulder a slight nudge. „She’ll say yes.“

James swallows against the lump in his throat. „You really think?“ he asks nervously. „She kind of hates me, though, doesn’t she?“

Remus rolls his eyes, albeit in good nature, as he shakes his head.

„Nah,“ Sirius suddenly chimes in, coming up to them with Peter following behind. „She doesn’t. At least not anymore.“ he winks, making James groan.

„Just do it, mate,“ Sirius insists, this time with nothing but genuine support. „You‘ve wanted to do this since like, forever.“

„I didn’t—“

„What‘re you lot up to?“

James nearly jumps as Lily suddenly stands next to him, brows raised in question.

„Uhm, we— nothing much.“ he stammers, and could curse himself for it. That’s not how he normally acts…what’s wrong with him?

Lily doesn’t look convinced at all, though, much to his surprise, she grants him one of those sweet smiles — the ones she uses with her friends. „Alright, well…James, actually, I was wondering whether you‘d want to hang out sometime?“

James could have sworn his heart just skipped a beat. „Hang out?“ he asks, just to make sure he hadn’t heard wrong. „Like…just us?“

„Yeah,“ Lily chuckles, the sound making his skin prickle. „if you’re up for it?“

She’s so beautiful…how can anybody be so bloody gorgeous? And her smile—

„Prongs?“ Sirius whispers after a moment, poking his arm. „Stop staring, mate.“

„Uh— yeah! I mean, sure, let’s do that.“ James replies quickly, snapping out of his daze. „I’ll think of something.“

Lily’s eyes brighten further, if that’s even possible. „It’s a date.“ she agrees, before catching Mary‘s arm to walk to their next class. „See you in the common room, James.“

James can only wave as he watches the two girls walk off, his heart beating in his throat and his mind racing. „What…what just happened?“

Remus lightly clasps his back. „Seems like you’re going on a date.“

He’s going on a date…with Lily. Merlin’s pants…

„Bloody hell,“ Sirius smirks, wrapping an arm around James’s shoulders. „You got a date! Finally! — even though you were hopelessly humiliating yourself just then.“

„Congrats Prongs.“ Peter chimes in next to them.

James smiles, though he only half listens to what his friends are saying, his eyes still fixed on where Lily‘d stood, just moments ago, when she’d asked him out.

„I’m going on a date,“ he finally utters, trying to stop himself from grinning like a complete idiot. „with Lily Evans.“

#jily #james potter #lily evans #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #james simping #lily making the first move #the marauders era #jily microfic

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simply-cooler · 4 months ago

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marauders’ era character modern AU headcannons

note - i’m american, bear with me

regulus black - top of his class

sirius black - sneaks into the staff room for snacks when he gets hungry

barty crouch jr - gets on the teachers nerves all the time, yet still has a high class rank

lily evans - sat alone during breaks and lunches on her first week of secondary

remus lupin - teachers’ favorite when hes not with his friends, teachers hate him with he’s with them

mary macdonald - wears a full face of makeup everyday to school

marlene mckinnon - got dress coded for a “i heart hot moms” shirt

dorcas meadows - has an intense academic rivalry with marlene

peter pettigrew - the head of the school glares at him and his friends when they walk by

james potter - has a snapchat account while a lot of girls added. his snapstreak is concernedly high

evan rosier - skips class so often that they met with his parents

pandora rosier - never left evan’s side when they first started school

#marauders #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #regulus black #the maruaders #lily evans #barty crouch jr #mary macdonald #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #peter pettigrew #evan rosier #pandora rosier #pandora lovegood

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not-alien-girl-v · 1 year ago

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Caramel (Ross Macdonald)

warning: language, reference to the inseam incident that i will never elaborate more on but love to reference over and over again

note: continues in this fluffy lil mini series that sorta starts here. i think i might continue this into a little mini series because i like this dynamic and i think i need more of y/n and ross in this universe. if you want to, you can imagine all the ross one shots i write all exist in the same universe cuz that’s what i do.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

it’s been 2 days since ross forcefully entered came to check in on you at your shared apartment with violet. you’re still on your period, so of course, you’re still finding it difficult to look ross in the eye without succumbing to your wildest dreams, so instead you made plans that are essentially a huge turn-off for you: hanging out with his friends.

“do i do eyeliner for this? is this, like, an eyeliner occasion?” violet questions while pretending she’s not as frantic as she truly is. she sits on the bathroom counter, having knocked over a few things on her climb up but you decided not to pester her about it.

“it really depends on who you plan on talking to.” you are sitting in the empty bathtub, fully clothed and a throw pillow hugged to your stomach. the bathroom door is closed and violet forgot to put on music so both your voices fill up the room, slightly echoing with enough enunciation.

“give me a run through again?” she pleads. you’ve done it twice, so you assume this last time is the last time but for real this time.

“first there’s adam, he has a girlfriend so he doesn’t care. then there’s george-“

“that’s the other big one, right? the blond?”

“we’ll he’s not actually blond, it’s just bleached. and very fried too. so if you’re into a man with a thicker head of hair, then you’d want to go for matty. but he comes with his own things to think about.”

“like?”

“i’m skipping ahead, sorry. so george, he’s very nice, very sweet guy, he is the other big one, he’s 6’4. smokes a lot of weed, like a lot. aside from his occasional forgetfulness from that, he’s very kind, very polite and respectful, very much a feminist. and he loves dogs.”

“well, i’m more of a cat person.”

“and you’re out of luck there. all his friends are dog people. you’ll have to adjust. anyways, then there’s matty. he’s like the ‘wattpad bad boy’ of the friend group, i think he got voted most likely to be a mafia boss and purchase a girl named ‘y/n’ from her junkie mother.”

“can you maybe like tell me something relevant about him?”

“that is relevant. he’s a little shorter, curly hair, a lot of tattoos, i mean, they all do. i think george might have the most, actually. he’s a bit of a dick at times and i know he means well or he’s mean in a comedic manner but more than often he just gets on my nerves and i know you have a much shorter temper than i do.”

“so you’re saying i should try to talk to george more.”

“i’m saying you should be careful. men are unpredictable and weird. and gross. you heard about the inseam incident, didn’t you?”

she visibly shudders. “god, how could i forget? fucking grotesque…”

she turns back to meet her own reflection in the mirror, staring blankly, but soon realizes how easily you dodged her original question. “wait, so eyeliner or no eyeliner?”

you give her a long, studying look. “eyeliner.”

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

you hold the door open for violet, always feeling like a gentleman to her damsel whenever she’s around. the inside of the boys’ house is much warmer than outside, and it feels like home, if home was a set temperature.

matty and george bicker over something in front of the tv, a case of dvds, maybe. adam is balls deep in conversation with his girlfriend, carly, while he pets allen, george’s matty’s dog. ross is in the kitchen grabbing a soda and a beer when he turns around at the noise of the door being opened.

“there’s my girl!” he exclaims, seemingly tipsy before the party has even begun. he drops both beverages on the kitchen island and circles around to give violet a brief side hug and you a much more substantial one. he squishes you in so tight you feel your ribs crack and splinter under the weight of it and he’s warm like a home should be. “good to see you, violet, you ready to meet my mates? they’ve been giddy about your arrival all day.”

“fuck off, we have not!” matty hollers over his shoulder and while his head is turned, george swiftly sticks a dvd of his own choice into the player and stands up, fleeing from the scene of the crime. he dusts his hands off on his jeans and reaches out to help his friend off the floor.

once matty realizes what has been done, his jaw drops in offense, and pettily, pushes g’s hands away and reluctantly stands up on his own. he stretches his arms up high and his back and elbows crack in the process. you’re much more used to his antics than violet, so you know he’s only doing this action to make the bottom of his t-shirt ride up, revealing his happy trail and his sexy tattoos.

this isn’t just some weird head-canon you have for him, you’ve actually heard him admit to this trick before when attempting to woo a woman.

ross leads the two of you over to the three men loitering the living room. “violet, this is adam,” adam doesn’t stand as the dog is in his lap, but he gives a humble wave that suffices, “matty,” violet doesn’t need to be pointed to who matty is. he stands and smiles widely and wraps violet in a hug.

“bold,” you mutter. matty flips you off behind violet��s back. you roll your eyes but he doesn’t catch it.

george approaches then, exuding a strange energy you’d never seen before. not from him at least. “and i’m george,” he extends a hand for a firm handshake, and when you watch violet agree to it, you can see him squeeze her hand just a smidge too tight.

they both are so weird. why can’t they just act normal around your friend?

“why are you two acting like freaks?” ross speaks the words right from your mouth and you feel a strong sense of adoration for him the way he can just simply share a thought of yours.

“no reason. anyway, we’re watching 'monster house,'" george dismisses and fetches the beer ross had been in the process of grabbing for him. while in the kitchen, he grabs two more sodas, holding both the cans perfectly in one large hand and you wonder what it must be like to possess such an ability.

ross drops down onto one end of the large couch, leaning into the arm of it and matty gets comfortable on a single arm chair, not leaving much opportunity to sit near violet and you start observing the weird male hierarchy that is already set in place when a new female is introduced to the ecosystem. were they like when you first met them all? you never bothered to ask, it never happened across your mind.

george returns with the sodas and hands one to you and one to violet, ever the gentleman, and sits down on the other side of the largest couch in the room.

“hey, wasn’t that coke supposed to be mine?” ross complains.

“there’s only two left. and y/n and violet are guests, so if y/n would like to share with you, that’s on her.”

ross sticks his tongue out at george’s back when he turns to fuss with the remote. you join the men on the couch, sitting a distance from ross and he immediately pulls you closer than close, you’re basically on his lap at this point. you’re confused at this sudden pda but then you notice it gives violet enough room to squeeze in right next to george on the couch. stupid unspoken male hierarchy rules.

you hand the soda to ross, not even having to ask or say anything at all, he knows it’s his official boyfriend duty to crack it open for you. he does exactly that, stealing a sip of it before handing it back. you squint at him.

you are sly when you side eye violet and george, completely eavesdropping on their gentle conversation but acting like you’re caught up in your own with your boyfriend. if you didn’t know any better, you’d say ross was listening in as well. you’re so in sync with him.

“i moved here after high school, my family is back in california,” you hear violet inform him and george looks all too interested.

“that explains the accent. it’s not everyday you hear an american, especially around here. why didn’t you go somewhere cooler like london?”

“y/n and i used to live there but then she started studying here so we made the move together. and sorry about the whole accent. it sounds a little silly compared to you guys, i know.”

“it’s not silly at all. i’ve actually always found it quite sexy, the american speak.”

it would sound like a load of bullshit if it were coming from anyone else but george is always so sincere in every word he says, you decide to leave them be for now.

you turn back to the man next to you. “can i kiss you?”

he scrunches his eyebrows, “since when do you need to ask?”

“i’m wearing lipstick. it’s gonna get on you. it might be… i don’t know… embarrassing.”

“why would it be embarrassing to have visible proof i just kissed a girl?”

“so that’s a yes, then?”

“kiss me any time. i love your lipstick. get it all over me if you want to.”

you decide to take that as a challenge and use both your hands to hold him down still, kissing every inch of his face that isn’t covered by the dark, coarse hair of his beard.

it takes him by surprise, so he sits still in shock for a few moments, letting you make a complete mess on his face, before finally retaliating, grabbing your face this time and kissing you properly.

“ew, get a room,” you didn’t even notice matty in the corner on the chair, now wrapped up in a thick blanket and pile driving a bowl of popcorn completely solo, looking like a young girl menstruating for the very first time.

ross wraps his arms around you, cradling you protectively into his neck. “mind your business, dickwad. watch the movie.” you mumble something into ross’s neck and he lets you loose so you can speak up. “what’s that?”

“douche canoe.”

he cackles in laughter, “yeah, you’re a douche canoe.”

matty rolls his eyes and you’re more than content with his irritation, so you finally give it a rest and cuddle back into ross, enjoying his warmth since matty stole both of the couch blankets.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

taglist: @indierockgirrl @itssimpleanditgoeslikethis @americanangel @butyou-callmewhenyourebored

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writingchalamet · 1 year ago

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History and drama part 2

A/n: I couldn’t help but write a part two because I loved the first one so much…sue me…

Warning: smut, curse words, fluff, angst, ROSS BECAUSE HE IS A WARNING ⚠️

Ross’s doorbell rings Friday night 8pm sharp and he can’t contain his excitement as he rushes towards the front door. He had styled his hair in his usual low man bun, wearing a soft oversized button down with a pair of slacks, he had made sure to take his time to carefully groom himself making sure he looked presentable for you, even though he could wear a bin bag and you’d still find him hot. He opened the door to see the most beautiful sight he had laid his eyes upon. There you stood, hair pulled up into a ponytail with two strands framing your face, and a silk slip dress with lace detailing, the slit in the side laying perfectly against the plump skin of your thighs. You held a bouquet of flowers in your arms, bright colours bursting out their paper encasing. His heart skipped several beats as he stared at you. “You look beautiful, come in” He opens his door more for you to step inside, taking you in his arms, leaning down to entrap your lips in a breathtaking kiss, you pull apart and smile brightly, handing him the carnation of flowers. “These are for you, my best friend is a florist, so I get to take advantage of her skills” Placing the bundle in his arms gently, he admires them and brings them to his nose to smell. He can tell they were fresh, the sensibility making his lips curl. “No one has ever bought me flowers before, thank you” you smile, enjoying the fact that you would be a first of his for something, even if it was something small.

You follow him through his home into the kitchen where he finds a vase, telling you how his mother had given it to him in the hopes he would have a girl move in to buy flowers for, and it’s the first time the vase would be used in his home. You laugh, taking in the warming environment of his house, the colours of the walls painted soft muted greens, very calming, he also had lots of books, but unlike your play writes and novels most of his collection were non-fiction and history pieces. You could tell he enjoyed his craft. His house was neat and clean, you can tell it’s not just because of your company, he has always been very pristine, well-groomed hair, nice skin, thought out outfits that were always perfectly ironed. He places the flowers in the vase, careful not to disturb their arrangement. You admire the joy in his eyes as he fluffs them out. “There…” He finishes displaying the flowers, taking the newly filled vase, and placing it on the dining table, where he had placed a few candles, ready for your meal. “It smells amazing in here Ross; I didn’t know you could cook?” you exclaim excitedly, examining the food cooking on the hob. “Well, I did ask you here for dinner so, I must deliver” he smiles watching you trail to the oven your homely instincts already kicking in, you pick up the wooden spoon and stir looking inside the dish nearly fainting at the heavenly sight, if it tasted as good as it looked you would marry the man right here on the spot, Ross comes to stand behind you one hand resting around your waist holding your stomach, your back pressing against his front. The other hand taking the spoon from your hand scooping up some of the sauce bringing it to your lips, you blow on it before taking it into your mouth, moaning at the taste, your head lulling backwards hitting his chest, your eyes roll back into your head, Ross enjoying the moment. “It’s Tuscan chicken casserole, it is ready I’m just waiting for the bread to warm up” you spin in his arms eyes wide, “There’s bread too?! Ross, I think I’m ready to become Mrs Macdonald now” you joke, his eyes crease with laughter, “If I knew all it took to impress you so much was baguette, I would have brought you one long ago” his hand cups your cheek as he leans down and peppers kisses across your face, putting a bright smile on your face.

You ate dinner peacefully, Fleetwood mac playing in the background, the candles lighting the room in a soft glow, your heart was thumping in your chest the entire time, at the thought he had put behind the date, no man had ever made you feel this way. You finished your meal, and you took the plates away insisting on washing up, he protested and joined you at the sink, no matter how much you scorned him. Washing the plates and cooking utensils passing them to him to dry up and put away, you found yourself slipping into the domestic bliss you so craved to share with him. Once the washing up was complete you follow the man into his living room, the music carrying through into the next room, the room was lit by the warm glow of the lamp on his coffee table next to his sofa. He grabbed the pair of you a drink each before settling down on the sofa, His body language open and inviting, you slipped down next to him, tucking your legs underneath themselves, folding yourself into his touch, his fingers play with the ends of your hair while you get yourself comfortable.

“So how was your week, any troubles with Alison?” He smirks at you; you simply roll your eyes taking a sip of your drink. “No thankfully. She just sort of snickers whenever I see her in my lessons, I know she will have told half her year group by now, but I honestly don’t care, it’s more of the same rumours that have been flying around since we first met” you smile and lean into him when he blushes at your last comment. The pair of you had been pining after one another for so long and neither of you don’t know why you haven’t just gone for it. “I just know that Matty and George are gonna have a field day when they hear that we were caught” Ross laughs again, his fingers trailing along your neckline and shoulder as you speak sending chills down your spine. “Kiss me” his words are all the invite you need, your lips crashing into his. You had shared the odd sneaky kiss around school in one another’s offices when no one was looking, but you had longed for his touch properly since last week. He nudges you backwards so you’re lying backwards on the sofa, taking his place in between your legs, holding himself up hovering just above you, your legs wrap themselves around his waist like a koala coiling him closer towards you, he sniggers at your neediness, leaning back down to kiss you. Your lips moving together in perfect sync, his tongue slithered into your mouth earning a gasp from you, fighting a loosing battle for dominance. Ross’s hands grip at your waist, your dress bunching up at your sides as he claws at the fabric to get to your skin. You have come to find that fleshy area joining your hips to your legs was his favourite thing to grab in the entire world. The skin feeling so soft and squashy in his hands. You moan breathlessly as he grinds his hips against your covered entrance. One of your hands move from his shoulder to his hair, pulling it out of his man bun, letting it fall into his face, he moans as you tug the hair at the root roughly, and he gives your hip a spank in response. You pull back and bite your lip looking him dead in the eye, “fuck me, please” no hesitation in your voice this time, compared to your shy disposition the last time. Those are the only words he needs to hear, unclasping his trousers, pulling them along with his boxers down low enough to release him from his prison. You shimmy yourself out of your underwear throwing them somewhere in the living room. He spits in his hand and smooths it across the tip of his dick before burying himself within your walls.

You straggle out a moan of his name as he slams himself back and forth, setting an unmatched pace, you somehow felt him deeper than ever before, your legs clinging to him for dear life, he was hitting a spot that had never been reached before, he took your small hand in his and pressed against your stomach, feeling him hitting the walls inside you knocked the air out of your lungs. “You’re my special girl, you know that right?” You nod and reattach your lips, his hand weaves up your dress and palms your breast, the silk fabric of your dress clinging to your chest with the heat rising between the two of you. You moan into his mouth as he delivers a hard squeeze, a firm thrust following the action. The scene was hot and heavy, unlike the slow romantic time before, this time you both felt a sense of urgency, hardly touching throughout the week had gone to his head and he had to have you, he didn’t care how needy he seemed. “Ross – harder!” Your words muffled into his mouth as he continued to press hot wet kisses to yours. He pulled out, untangling your limbs from around him, flipping you roughly onto your front and raised your arse up to meet his hips, he definitely appreciated the site, and the squeal you let out when he slapped and grabbed at the flesh harshly, without a second to think, he shoved himself back inside of you, the new angle hitting every ridge as his cock slid back in, he gave you two warning thrusts before absolutely annihilating you. You scream and gasp, biting onto your hand in front of you as he continually slams himself in and out, his grunts and moans above you are obscene, he holds onto your hips tightly as he pounds away, your screams only spurring him on more. One of his hands wound themselves into your hair, gripping at the ponytail, pulling back on it harshly so you are now sat up with your back against him, the hand travels around your neck and clasps a hold, choaking you, your head falls back onto his shoulder as he fucks you, your hand joins his, gripping around the wrist and digging your nails into his hand each time he choaks or hits that special spot inside of you. He cranes his neck round to kiss you, swallowing more of your moans, his thrusts become faster and deeper than ever before, he feels you begin to tighten around him, knowing what’s to come, his hand leaves your hip and holds you flush against him, rubbing circles on your clit, your eyes roll into the back of your head out of pleasure and you feel yourself spasming around him, “That’s a good girl, let go for me” he whispers in your ear as he continues to fuck you through another mind blowing orgasm, you swear they will never be the same without him. You feel him throb inside you and soon enough he stills, filling you full of his load, he gives you one final thrust before pulling out, leaving you with the thick and warm juices spilling from inside you, He bites his lip and groans as he watches the mess spill back out of your entrance, the sight enough to make him ready for another round. He turns you around onto your back once more and leaves the room, coming back with a ‘merry Christmas’ tea towel which makes you laugh. He smiles and leans in for a kiss before wiping you clean throwing the tea towel on the floor.

“Well Miss S/n, I think we’ve out done ourselves”

Several weeks had gone by and yourself and Ross had been on many dates. The pair of you enjoying each others company to the fullest, you had managed to squeeze in at least 2 dates a week, as well as not being able to keep your hands off each other when you were alone in one another’s offices. Today was no different, you were just prepping for your year 10 class about to come in when familiar arms incased round your waist and spun you round your studio, you let out a little scream and a giggle until your feet touched the ground again. Spinning in his arms to face the beautiful man, “hello sweetheart” he places a delicate kiss on your lips, arms wrapped snugly around you, hands resting on your bum, “hey, that was a nice surprise, I’ve missed you today” you peck him again and he chuckles, “you saw me two hours ago” and you sigh throwing your head back dramatically “I know but my heart yearns for you!” You both laugh and step away from each others embrace as you hear the warning bell, signally the children will be here any moment. “I have a free period and I was wondering if you would mind if I sit in and watch your lesson, just for fun” your smile only brightens, the thought that he couldn’t be away from you during his free period, even if your attention wasn’t going o be on him made your heart twitch. “Yeah of course, just don’t look at me like I’m a mad woman because we’re studying ‘the metamorphosis’ and Brecht’s physicality, so when I’m hanging upside down pretending to be a beetle please don’t stop fancying me” you stare at him dead in the eyes and search his soul, he only laughs and leans forward placing a peck on your forehead. He takes a seat on the side of the studio and watches as your students pour through the door. Most of them with confused looks as to why a history teacher was sitting in their lesson.

The students put their bags to the side, and come to the centre of the room, “okay class, so you’ve probably already seen that we have a visitor today, Mr Macdonald is a big Metamorphosis fan and wanted to see what you guys have been working on, I’ll give you twenty minutes to get back into your groups from last week and go over the scene you were given, then we will sit and watch each group’s performance okay?” You clap your hands together and the kids all nod back to you, “You are all free to use the boxes, climbing apparatus and matts, just go into the props room to bring them out!” The students all break off into their groups, some going into the props room bringing out the large black boxes and climbing frames to use for their pieces.

You loved seeing your students so enthusiastic about their work, it reminded you of being in school and drama being your favourite lesson. You walk around the studio stopping to help some students when they ask, not noticing the big grin on Ross’s face as he watches you teach. He watches you reassure your kids they are doing a good job, and show them how to use the equipment safely, he loves watching you in your element. You were showing one student that had asked about physical movement during the metamorphosis scene, and Ross watched as you quite literally got on the floor and contorted your body in ways he did know you could, the action making him feel rather ravenous. You stood again and guided the student’s movements unintentionally bending with them out of habit. You see Ross from the corner of your eye cross his leg over and smirk to yourself. After taking another lap around the room and seeing the kids were getting on okay you plop yourself down next to Ross, legs brushing against each other. “Hey” you smile at him. “You’re so good at what you do” the sudden compliment strikes through your heart, you bite your lip to hide the fact that you want to smile ear to ear. “Thank you, I happen to think you’re pretty good too” you nudge his shoulder with your own. “The kids all love you, I’ve never seen students behave so well for a class before, I don’t think I’ve ever heard your raise your voice once at any of your students” you giggle and put your head down “you should see one of my year 8 classes, they’re awful, I’m screaming at them all time, you’re just in the right class, these guys are lovely because they actually want to be here, and there is a group of boys in my year 8 class who know exactly what buttons to push to send me over the edge” you shake your head at the thought of the dreadful class. You hated the students that just came into your lessons to mess around, after you spend so many gruelling hours planning lessons having little to no free time to yourself, they seem to want to come in and make your life miserable. “Hey, these kids are the ones that count right, you got that teaching award last year for a reason, and it’s the students that vote, so you’re clearly doing something right” you smile at the fact that he remembers that you had won. You wanted so badly to kiss him, to touch him, anything but you couldn’t, you had to hold out.

“Okay class, come and sit down and we’ll pick groups to perform, does anyone want to go first?” One groups hands shoot right up, the group of the student who you were helping with the transformation scene, you were excited, you loved watching your students work. The rest of the students came to sit down as the group set up their stage. They performed the scene and the look on Ross’s face was telling enough, these kids were talented and they had you to thank for the extra push. You all clap your hands at the end of the scene and give each student a well done calling up the next group. “They’re all so good, they’re such a credit to you” Ross whispers into your ear as you watch the next few performances. The smile on your face and the proud feeling in your stomach made you live for moments like this. The lesson draws to a close and as the students leave some kids come over to hug you before leaving the studio, thanking you for your help, he sentiment warming Ross heart.

He walks over to you as the last student leaves the studio and wraps his arm around you once more. “That was such a good lesson, I thoroughly enjoyed it, thank you for letting me sit in” you smile turning to kiss the man “you can join in next time” you wink at him, earning a hearty laugh from him at the thought of him jumping around with the students. “Well I have to get back for my last lesson of the day, thank you again for letting me sit in, you did great, I love you” he kisses your lips and the words had left his mouth before he could even comprehend what he was saying. Your jaw practically hit the ground, you stood there astounded unable to speak or stutter even. His eyes went wide as he realised what he had done, his hand scratched the back of his neck as he looked at your shocked and confused face, “I uh- I have to go” he left you there, mouth swinging, heart pounding and eyes glassing over. He loves you.

Ross had been avoiding you since the whole ‘I love you’ ordeal. Whenever you saw him in the staff room he would gather his things and rush off claiming ‘he was busy’ if you went by his office he would say he was ‘needed somewhere’ and it made you want to staple the man to the spot so you could tell him how you really feel. You’re hoping today would be different though, it was Matty’s birthday, and a group of you, Ross included were going out tonight for dinner and drinks to celebrate. You were in your house getting ready for the night deciding on wearing something daring to catch a certain someone’s eyes.

Adam picks you up from your house driving you to the restaurant where you meet the rest of your friends, there was a large table of about 20 of you, Ross already sat down laughing with some co workers, his eyes bulge out of his head as he glanced your way. You walk straight up to Matty leaning down to give him a kiss and hug, his face lit up at your presence asking you to sit down next to him and George. Ross sits opposite from you and gives you an awkward nod. Adam comes to take the vacant seat next to you and you immerse yourself back into conversation with him about your week and jokingly implying you were ready to quit after the day you had, when an English teacher sat next to Ross pipes up, “yeah I heard about the fight between those two sixth formers down the music corridor, apparently it was really bad, well done for breaking it up Y/n!” At the sound of your name and the mention of a fight Ross’s head perked up, he hadn’t heard anything about a fight at work today.

Matty jumps into the conversation “oh my god it was brilliant, the two lads were proper swinging on each other and she just jumped straight in between them, nearly took a hit too! Little pocket rocket!” Matty laughs and you shake your head sipping your drink “yeah no thanks to you lot, all just stood shouting at them from your classroom doors! Someone had to get in there and break them up!” George laughs and throws his head back! “Are you kidding you’ve seen that kid Jack right?! He’s like 6’7 I’m not getting in the way of one of those punches!” Ross sat in his chair anger bubbling up inside him like a volcano, all these people just stood and watched while you willingly threw yourself, over a foot and a half shorter than, someone throwing punches. “And none of you thought to help her?” The anger in Ross’s voice was clear, the smiles dropping from everyone’s faces in an instant. “What if she had gotten hurt, would you have just stood and watched then!?” You watched as he clenched his fist, eyebrows furrowed, clearly angry at Matty and George for not ‘defending your honour’. “I was fine Ross, nothing happened, they calmed down as soon as I split them up” your hand reached across the table and took his hand in your own, it soothed him instantly, feeling your soft skin brush against his. “You two are so wet for each other it’s disgusting” Matty interrupts your moment and you roll your eyes taking your hand away from Ross’s picking up your drink once more. You all eat then move onto a pub, a large number of the group filter out wishing Matty a happy birthday as they leave. Ross still hadn’t spoken to you apart from the scene at the table, but now most the faculty had left, he had less places to hide. You sat with George while Ross and Matty were at the bar with Adam and a couple of friends ordering some drinks, Matty flirting with the barmaid. “What’s going on with you and the history buff then?” George nudges you making you look his way. You let out a sigh before talking “you have to talk to each other to have something going on George “ you allow a shallow laugh to leave your lips. Picking at your nails, George could tell you were upset. “I thought it was going well? You no longer in the honeymoon period?” You just raise your eyebrows and shrug not really knowing how to respond. “He told me he loved me the other day, then ran away and has been avoiding me ever since, every time I walk into a room he storms out” you shake your head at the thought that he didn’t really mean his words. “What that’s massive! I’m sure he does mean it, he’s probably just afraid of what you’re gonna say back” he nudges you once more raising his brows in a quizzical manner. “Well he actually has to talk to me to get his answer, I’m not that scary am I?” You joke. “I dunno… scary enough to jump in between two huge guys almost twice your size having a fight” you laugh, and lean your head on his shoulder. Matty and the others walk over carrying a tray filled with pints and shots… This was going to be fun.

Matty wedged himself next to you, Ross, Adam and the others sitting on the other side of the table, “alright guys, shot time” Matty passes you each two shots from his tray, handing out lime slices and packets of salt, you all get ready do your shots on the count of three, grimacing as the liquor burns your throat. Ross watched your face closely as you took the slice of lime in between your teeth and sucked the juice out, joking with Matty when you both turn to each other with the rind in your mouths. George takes a photo of the two of you and it makes Ross’s heart burn at the sight of Matty pulling you into his lap, arms around your waist and head over your shoulder while you take photos together. Adam pulls a deck of cards out his pocket and suggests a game, Matty instantly voting for strip poker but you had to remind him you were in public, much to his dismay. You settled on shit head each taking turns to lay your cards out, each wanting to be the first to get rid of all your cards. The game went on for a while, George kept stitching Matty up making him pick up, which made you all laugh. Ross had won, and you came a close second which made you smile. You finished your drink and wandered over to the bar to buy another round when you felt an arm around your waist, an unfamiliar arm. You look to your left to see a tall, fairly handsome man stood beside you, he smiles at you “hey I was wondering if I could buy your drink for you?” His arm is unmoving, and even though he seemed nice, he wasn’t your cup of tea. “I’m actually buying a round for me and my friends-” you were cut off by the guy taking his card out of his wallet and placing it on the bar, “please I insist, I’ve been watching you all night, and I had to come say hello” the bartender takes the card and taps it before you can protest, you step back out of his grasp and watch as your drinks are made. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do that” you say awkwardly. “Nonsense, any excuse to talk to a beautiful woman, so what brings you here tonight?” You try and be polite but the guy was giving you the creeps, the way his eye-line kept faltering to look at your chest and he kept leaning in close to you each time you made a move backwards. “Uh it’s my friends birthday..” you trail off, waiting as patiently for your drinks as possible so you could get the hell away from this creep, looking rather desperately at the barman, who clearly, wasn’t catching your hint. “So are you single?” Just then the strong familiar arms that feel like home, wrap around your waist and pull you into his chest, your back hitting firmly against him. “No she’s not.” You look up and see a very displeased Ross above you, you wrap your arm around his and give him a squeeze, letting him know you were alright. “Oh sorry man, I uh- I didn’t realise” the man scurried off into the busying crowd and was forgot in a second, you turned in Ross’s arms to look up at his face, leaning up to give him a peck, a meaningful one that held much behind it, your hand stroked his cheek and you smiled at him. “Thank you” he simply nodded his head and leaned back down for another kiss, missing the taste and softening touch of your lips these last few days. “I need to talk to you” you say, eyes boring into his, he looked worried, frightened almost, he opened his mouth to speak when the barman slid over all your drinks on a tray, “there you go miss, enjoy” you just smile muttering a thank you, taking the tray and walking back to the table.

“Here she is…player!! We saw you over there flirting away!” Matty yelling slurring his words, big smile on his chops, “yeah we’ll be grateful, my so called ‘flirting’ just got you lot a free round” you joke putting the tray down, they all cheer and take their drinks off, cheers-ing to you and your ‘flirting technique’ which Ross did not find funny at all. You sat at the edge of the table this time, Ross taking a seat at the head of the table so he was next to you. The animosity had mostly settled but you still had yet to speak properly. “Okay how about a game of truth or dare!” You all groan “Matty, we’re not 15!” You whinge “ahh but it is my birthday!” You all sigh and give in to the birthday boy. A few rounds go by, the group doing stupid dares like downing the dirty pint, Adam was dared to lick the bottom of George’s shoe, Matty had to try and get a free drink from someone in the bar, failing miserably, you had been dared to give the ‘birthday boy’ a lap dance, much to yours and Ross’s dismay. And now it was back to you again. “Truth” you say confidently as George asked the question “okay, tell Ross how you really feel about him” the table goes silent, and everyone has wide eyes looking between you and Ross in anticipation. You give George a look of disbelief before turning and facing Ross fully giving him your attention, you take his hand in yours and lean close to him to give the pair of you some privacy, as if it were at all possible! “Ross, ever since I first met you I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, you make me smile just by walking into the room, I love the way your eyes crinkle every time you smile, and the little freckle you have on your forehead, I love how kind and genuine you are, and caring of others, I have been absolutely enamoured with you since you first said hello to me, I hate it when we’re apart, it makes me feel like I’m missing a limb, I want you all the time, forever… I love you Ross, I’ve been in love with you for ages” you were looking down at your hands towards the end of your unintentionally longwinded speech, not wanting to meet his eyes. His fingers leave yours and touch your chin lightly tilting your head up to meet his eye-line, for just a moment the entire world melted away and it was just the two of you. “You really mean all of that?” His eyes were glassy the finger under your chin was stroking soft comforting strokes, you just nodded and pulled him towards you for a kiss, your lips melting together, you let your fingers travel into his hair out of instinct, he pulls you forwards so you are sitting in his lap and hear the others in uproar at the table. “Woah woah Ross! Put her down!” - “get your tongue out her throat!” - “no one needs to see that!” The boys all chime in together, words crossing over each other. Without pulling away you stick your middle finger up at them behind you. You pull away and smile at Ross, caressing his cheek, fingers moving to smooth over his beard. “I love you” you whisper to him, his hand squeezes your waist “I love you” he leans in to place another peck on your lips, you had never felt so content in your life.

You had gone official with Ross, feeling like one of the teenagers you teach, all lovestruck and doe eyed. It was the end of another week and you were walking up to Ross’s classroom ready to go home, Ross was leading a study group in his classroom, walking round the room occasionally leaning down to help students with their work, you lean on the doorframe watching as the students finish up their work, smiling seeing them so enthralled in their work, you were holding your bag and folders ready for the day to end when Ross noticed you. “Hey come in, we’re nearly finished” he nods for you to come over, you step into the room smiling at the students as some of them look up at you, you walk over to his desk and perch on the edge, Ross surprising you by coming and sitting right next to you. Some students in the very front row eye the two of you as Ross nudges you affectionately and stares at you a little too long. The clock struck 4:30 and Ross dismissed the class, once the last student had left you were in his arms. “I’ve missed you” he peppers kisses across your face and down your neck, you giggle leaning up on your tippy toes to reach his lips, you hum as his hands smooth over your back and cheekily grab a hold of your bum. You pull away from the kiss staring into his eyes seeing that all familiar glimmer in them, “I’ve missed you more, what do you want for dinner tonight?” You step away from him and help collect his things from his desk. “I was just gonna cook something simple like stir fry? Sound good?” He replies, taking your hand in his as you leave his classroom and make your way down the hallway together. “Sounds amazing, your place of mine?” You pass the other history teachers in their office and say goodnight to them wishing them a good weekend. “I don’t care who’s house we go to, as long as I get my dessert afterwards I’m happy” Ross winks at you and tugs you down the corridor a little faster with a newfound spring in your steps. You giggle as he leads the way to his car, seemingly driving in autopilot to your house, which was his new favourite destination. Where you carried out an evening of food, wine, sex and lots of laughter.

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