#I fell into a burning ring of fire I went down down down and the flames climbed higher

[drizzledrawings]

Go listen to some Johnny cash,, it’ll make you feel better

[rotzaprachim]

no one has made a rebelcaptain AMV to “ring of fire.” SAD

[theostrophywife]

shut up kiss me.

pairing: theodore nott x reader

song inspiration: shut up kiss me by angel olsen.

author's note: everyone say thank you to my love @writingsbychlo for fueling my delusions. constantly spamming her with my ideas because i have no self control when it comes to this man. there’s just something about theo fighting that makes me absolutely feral but i’ll hush now before i spoil it 🤭

Theodore. Fucking. Nott. 

Those three words fueled your rampage as you marched across the quidditch pitch. The audacity of that cocky, arrogant, silver tongued Slytherin knew no bounds. For years, you tolerated the pompous prick and the rivalry between you, but today he had finally gone too far. 

You cleared the field in less than a minute, passing by confused players as you angrily seethed. You spotted a shock of familiar platinum blonde hair and walked right up to Draco Malfoy. 

“Where the hell is he?”

He chuckled, perfectly aware of your longstanding enmity with his closest friend. “What’s he done this time?”

“Where. Is. He?” you repeated through gritted teeth. “Don’t make me ask again, Malfoy.” 

The blonde paled several shades when he saw the fire burning in your gaze. “Locker rooms. I wouldn’t go in there, Y/N. They’re still shower—“ Draco sighed as you brushed past him. “Whatever, it’s your funeral.”

The locker rooms were steamy, the heat and humidity clinging to your school uniform as you stalked through the aisles. The Slytherin players startled when they spotted you amongst their midst. 

“Well, well, well,” Mattheo drawled as he leaned against the wall. A towel hung dangerously low on his hips and he smirked when your eyes flickered over his body. “What do we have here? A sweet little Hufflepuff marching straight into the viper’s den.”

“Where the fuck is he, Riddle?”

Mattheo grinned lazily. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that, sweetheart.” 

“You know exactly who I’m talking about. Your arrogant prick of a friend who sent my fucking date to the hospital wing!” 

Before you went to sleep last night, you had done so with a grin on your face after a wonderful date with Alec Stone at the Three Broomsticks, but then you arrived at breakfast this morning with no Alec in sight and the rumor mill rampant with talks of Theo pummeling some poor Ravenclaw in the courtyard. 

You were going to kill him. 

“Sorry, love. Doesn’t ring a bell.” 

You frowned, purposely bumping against Mattheo as you walked further down the dimly lit aisle. In your trail for vengeance, you ran into a very flustered looking Enzo who yelped as he sought to cover his very naked torso. 

“Y/N,” Enzo said, hastily wrapping a towel around his waist. “What are you doing in the locker rooms?”

Behind him, the sound of the shower running echoed against the marble tiles. “Is he in there?”

Berkshire’s face fell. “You heard about the fight?” 

“It wasn’t a fight,” you said angrily. “He pummeled Alec so badly that he’s currently in the hospital wing with a concussion and several broken bones.”

“Just hear him out, okay?” 

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. “Hear him out? Your precious Theodore beat the absolute shit out of my date and you want me to hear him out? For what? What reason could Theo possibly have for doing what he did to Alec? He couldn’t stand to see me have fun for two fucking seconds? This is low even for him and you know it, Enzo.”

“You don’t know the whole story, Y/N.” 

“Well then please point me in the right direction so I can hear from the arsehole himself.” 

“He’s in there,” Enzo said, pointing to the shower stalls. “But I’m warning you, Y/N. He’s in a proper foul mood.” 

You huffed. “That makes two of us.” 

The steam from the showers rose up like a malevolent fog, curling around your feet as you stormed through the stalls. You found him in the farthest corner, water trickling down his back as he faced the tiled wall. His body language was tense, like a serpent preparing to strike. A crimson trail swirled against the marble as blood dripped from Theo’s bruised knuckles. The sight of it incensed you. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” 

Theo whipped his head towards your direction, his dark curls plastered against his cheek. Those watercolor eyes were stormy, the blues and greens flickering with anger as he met your gaze. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said dismissively. 

“Bullshit!” You countered, stepping further into the stall. The steam barely covered Theo’s naked form, but you weren’t about to let that deter you from demanding answers. “You owe me a fucking explanation.”

“For what?” 

“For what?” you repeated incredulously. “You beat Alec within an inch of his life and that’s all you have to say for yourself? Honestly Theodore, have you gone absolutely mental?” 

“He deserved it.” 

“Why? Because he took me out on a date? Because you couldn’t stand to let me have this one thing? You absolutely loathe the idea of me being even remotely happy, don’t you?” 

Theo clenched his fists as his jaw twitched in anger. “No. I loathe the idea of that miserable excuse of a human being breathing the same air as you.” 

“So you beat him to a bloody pulp?” 

His voice was cold and icy, cutting through you like glass. “He’s lucky I didn’t do worse.”

“What do you have against Alec?” You moved closer to Theo, closing the gap as you poked his chest. The shower streamed over the both of you, blurring your vision. The water was hot against your skin, but it paled against the heat of your own anger. “What did he ever do to you, Theo?” 

Theo gripped your wrist. You were vaguely aware of his nakedness, but he made no move to hide it and you were too furious to even care. “Don’t say his name. I can’t bear to hear you say it after what he said about you this morning.” 

You stepped backward, flinching. “What—what are you talking about?” 

When you met his gaze, you startled. You’d never seen Theo this angry before. His eyes, which were usually dead and expressionless, burned with a cold sort of fury. 

“I heard him in the courtyard, bragging to his stupid friends. I thought he was just chatting shit, so I kept back. I only came down for a smoke, but then he said your name.” 

The pit in your stomach grew. “What did he say?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure you wanted to know. Not if he was this angry over it.

“The stupid fucking prick was talking about your date. The dress you wore. The smiles you gave him. The hand holding through Hogsmeade. Then one of his gormless mates asked if he got lucky.” 

You froze at his words as a horrible feeling washed over you. Theo loosened his grip on your wrist, but didn’t let go. 

“Do you know what that sodding idiot said? I will, soon enough. I can tell she’s raring to go.” 

Tears pricked at your eyes. You felt like you were going to be violently sick. 

“And his friends—those miserable fucking wankers started betting on how long it would take. Two dates. Three. A month.” Theo’s hands were shaking, violence spilling over into his veins. “That smug tosser smirked and said he could’ve had you out in the hallway. That’s how eager you were.”

“I barely even touched him!” you said angrily. “I kissed his cheek good night and that was it.” 

“I know,” Theo said, his voice low and rough. “I know you. I knew he was lying, so I fucking lost it. I walked over there and just punched and punched until my knuckles were bloody and bruised and all I could see was red. I wanted to wipe that stupid fucking smirk off his mouth.” 

You could picture Theo putting out his cigarette ever so calmly before walking over to throw the first punch. You’d seen him fight before. He was relentless. Where Mattheo was pure fire and rage, Theo was as cold as ice. There was nothing but lethal calm in those dead eyes as he delivered blow after blow in absolute silence. 

“Eventually, Blaise and Enzo pulled me off of that prick.” He averted his gaze as if remembering the moment. “When his idiot friends finally peeled him off the floor, I spit on the fucker. I told him to consider it a warning. That I’d do a lot worse if I ever heard your name come out of his mouth again. I promised him that a concussion would be the least of his worries if he didn’t stay the fuck away from you.”

The tears fell down your cheeks despite your efforts to keep them in. The anger all but faded from Theo’s eyes as soon as he realized that you were crying. You were so, so stupid. For thinking Alec was a nice guy. For being so giddy after your date only for him to turn around and spit vile lies about you. 

For crying in front of your worst enemy.

The color drained from Theo’s face as you cried into your hands. You felt him shift beside you, debating whether or not to come closer. 

“Don’t,” you said through a broken sob. “Don’t come near me.” 

Theo flinched at your words, looking visibly pained. His voice was soft and soothing when he spoke again. “Tell me how to fix it. Do you want to yell at me? Punch me? Go ahead, love. I can take it.” He sounded desperate. “Just please, please don’t cry.” 

You hugged your arms around your waist and glared at him. “Why do you even care?” 

He paused, fingers flexing at his side as he fought the urge to reach out and comfort you. 

“Because I care about you!” The exasperation in his voice made your chest tighten. “I care that you let that stupid idiot take you on a date to the Three Broomsticks. I care that you fucking smiled at him when he gave you roses even though I know you prefer sunflowers. I care that you kissed him on the cheek when he dropped you off at your dorm.”

You sniffled, utterly perplexed at his words. “I don’t understand. We hate each other!” 

Theo visibly softened, the tension leaving his body. “I could never hate you, Y/N.” He reached for your hand. Your first instinct was to pull away, but you let him trace soothing circles on your skin. “I may tease you. Prank you. Annoy you. But I’ve never hated you.” 

Theo wiped the dried up tears from your cheeks. No fresh tears, which he took as a good sign. “I don’t even think you remember this, but I tried asking you to the Yule Ball in fourth year.” 

The memory surfaced. You were reading by the Black Lake and Theo had asked if you had a date. You said no, to which he promptly asked if he could take you. You left in a huff, thinking that it was just another way to rile you up. 

“I thought you were just trying to get a rise out of me. If I would’ve known…” 

Theo paused. “How could you not know? How could you not see?” 

The rage crashed against you like an errant wave. You didn’t know if you were angry at Theo or yourself, but you exploded either way, unable to keep your emotions under control. 

“Because you never told me, you idiot!”

“I never told you, but I showed you.” He smiled crookedly. “I'm not good with words, obviously. Every time I open my mouth it’s like I say the perfect combination of words to piss you off. So I learned to tell you how I felt through my actions.” 

“Haven’t you ever wondered why your favorite study spot in the library is always free? That’s because I threatened anyone who came near it. Or how you never seem to run out of quills despite the fact that you manage to break one every day from how hard you write? I always replaced them when you weren’t looking.” Your heart clenched at his words. “I even bribed first years to bring you hot chocolate when I knew you were pulling all nighters.” 

You stood there, staring at him. This wasn’t the cocky, arrogant Theo that you knew. He was looking at you so earnestly that it physically hurt how endearing it all was. 

“Why would you let me think that you were an inconsiderate jerk this whole time?” 

Those hypnotizing eyes pierced right through you, filled with a sadness so heavy that you felt it weighing on your chest. 

“Because at least you were thinking of me.”

You swayed gently. The water had long seeped into your bones, making you shiver as all of your clothes stuck to your skin like paper. You were convinced that your body had gone into shock. The range of emotions you were currently experiencing was turbulent to say the least. You stood in stunned silence, just taking it all in. Then the impact of his words hit you all at once. 

Theo watched as your bottom lip trembled. Panic seized him as you began crying again, this time not bothering to hide it from him. “Fuck I’m sorry, Y/N. Please don’t cry.” 

He didn’t know what to do. Should he comfort you? Should he keep his distance? Theo felt like he was doing a rather exceptional job of mucking things up. 

“Why are you saying sorry?” You said between hiccups. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

Theo caressed your cheek. So gently. Like he half-expected you to recoil. That only set a fresh wave of tears to spill onto your cheeks. 

“You have nothing to apologize for, love.” 

“Of course I do!” you nearly wailed. “I’ve been horrible to you. I’ve thought the worst of you, but all this time you were doing all these sweet, considerate things and I never even noticed. You should’ve told me, Theo.” 

“I—I didn’t think you’d ever see me that way,” Theo said softly. “It was better to have you hate me and still be part of my life than risking not having you in it at all.” 

Because at least you were thinking of me. 

It was the saddest thing that you’ve ever heard. For years, Theo settled for being your enemy because he’d rather have your hatred and loathing than indifference. He sustained himself on the bare minimum because he thought that was all he deserved. 

“I’m sorry, Theo. I’m so so fucking sorry.” 

Theo was absolutely distressed. “Fuck, look Y/N. Let me just finish up here and get my towel and when I’m dry and slightly less naked then we can talk, okay?” 

You sniffled, wiping your tears away. There was no way you could wait. Not after everything Theo had just told you. Not after everything that he’s been telling you all these years. Theo had literally and figuratively laid himself bare before you. The least you could do was to even the playing field. 

So you unlaced the gold and black tie around your neck. Unbuttoned your blouse and threw it somewhere behind you. Stepped out of your skirt and stared at Theo head on. 

“Oh—Merlin’s beard, what in the hell are you doing, Y/N? Are you trying to send me into cardiac arrest?” 

You shook your head, smiling slightly. Theo was determined to look everywhere but at your very exposed body. You were still in your bra and panties, but the black lace really didn’t leave much to the imagination. Especially when the water clung to every inch of your skin. 

“You were vulnerable with me,” you said simply. “So I’m returning the favor.” 

Theo felt like he was definitely headed for an early grave. He tried to think of something—anything—other than the girl he’s been head over heels for since third year standing naked in front of him.

“Theo,” you said softly. His name had never sounded half as good coming out of anyone else’s mouth. He wanted to bottle the sound. “Can I—can I hug you?” 

He could’ve sworn that his heart had stopped beating. The air had all but left his lungs, deflating his entire body as though he’d fallen off his broom and plummeted through the sky at breakneck speed. 

Theo didn’t recognize his own voice as he said, “Of course you can, Y/N.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before you dashed into his arms, nearly toppling him over from the force of it. You were a tiny little thing, but you were stronger than you looked. He smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes as you hugged him. For a minute you and Theo just stood there under the trickling water, holding each other as though you were the only two people alive. 

If this was all the affection you were willing to give him, Theo would’ve been content to hold onto you until you grew tired of him. His slender fingers traced down your spine, drawing soothing circles against your skin as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. You felt safe. Like nothing bad could ever happen as long as you were with him.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt like this. There was just this spark between you. Perhaps that was part of the reason why you had been so angry this morning. 

It hadn’t just been because Theo sent Alec to the hospital wing, which you were now thankful for after hearing all the disgusting things he said about you. It was also because you thought that he had ruined your chance of feeling that rush with someone else. The same rush you got when the two of you were arguing. The same rush that was noticeably missing when you kissed Alec last night. 

Things with Theo had always been electric. You attributed it to mutual loathing, but that wasn’t the full story. Sure he made your blood boil sometimes, but he also made you feel alive. You were terrified to admit it to yourself, which is probably why you said yes to Alec in the first place. 

You sighed as Theo’s fingers tangled through your hair. He gently pulled your head back and looked at you in the most heartbreaking way. 

“Y/N,” he said hoarsely. Theo’s gaze dipped to your mouth as his arm snaked around your waist. “I think I might die if I go one more second without kissing you. Will you please put me out of my misery, love?” 

You couldn’t help but smile. “Gladly.”

Theo held his breath as you pulled him down to you, lips brushing shyly at first. Then you leaned in and kissed him. And he truly and honestly thought that he had died. 

Your lips were soft against his, tasting of strawberries and mint toothpaste. He cupped the back of your head and tilted your chin to deepen the kiss. Before, Theo thought he could’ve sustained himself from a simple hug, but right now, he couldn’t even control himself as he gorged himself on your taste. 

He chuckled when you tried and failed to get on your tiptoes to offset the height difference between you. Theo caressed your cheek and smiled against your mouth. 

“Need some help, love?” 

You nodded before pulling him back down again. This time, the tender kisses turned more heated as he locked your legs around his waist and pressed your back against the wall. You gasped as the cold tile made contact with your bare skin and Theo took the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours. 

Merlin’s beard. Theo kissed with his entire body. There wasn’t an inch of you that wasn’t touching him and the skin to skin contact set your body on fire. You’d kissed other boys before, but they paled in comparison. You couldn’t get enough of Theo. You ran your fingers through his hair. Wrapped your legs more tightly around his waist. Trailed kisses along his jaw and neck and throat. 

Then he fucking moaned. 

It was a low, rumbling sound that sent tremors over your body and shook every fiber of your being like a devastating earthquake. You wanted to hear him make that sound over and over again. 

“Y/N,” Theo said, his forehead dropping to yours. “Before I lose all sense of self, I want to—no—I need to tell you—”

“What is it, Theo?”

“If we do this, then you have to understand what it means to me,” Theo whispered. “I may be terrible with words, but it’s important for me that you hear me when I say this. I want you. Not just physically, but in every sense of the word. I wanted you in third year when you first told me off for being a dick to the first years and I want you now even though you came in here to defend a prick that definitely doesn’t deserve it.” 

“What are you saying, Theo?” 

“I want you to be mine, Y/N.” 

You beamed. “Like, your girlfriend?”

“I don’t think girlfriend is a strong enough word to express how I feel for you, but it’s a start.” He moved the hair out of your face and cradled your cheek. “So yes, I suppose I do want you to be my girlfriend. I want to hold hands with you in the hallways. I want to look up at the stands during my games and see you cheering me on. I want to take you up to the Astronomy Tower and kiss you under the stars.” 

“And you say you’re bad with words,” you teased. “I want to do all those things and more with you, Theodore Nott. Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.” 

“Good, cause you’re mine.” Theo said matter-of-factly, those adorable dimples making an appearance on each cheek. “You were mine even before you knew it.” 

He kissed you again, but this time it was soft and sweet and it filled your stomach with butterflies. Theo no longer felt the need to hoard as much of your affection as he could because you had just given him the ultimate reassurance that he would have plenty of you in the future. 

You sighed contently against him, toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. He shifted, pressing kisses against your neck. Your fingers froze when you felt him stir underneath you. 

“Theo,” you said slowly, biting back a smirk. “Is that what I think it is pressing against my leg?” 

He groaned. “We’re half naked, in the shower, heavily making out, and you just agreed to be my girlfriend. Of course I’m hard.” 

You stifled a laugh. “Theodore Nott, is emotional intimacy turning you on?” 

“Everything about you turns me on.” 

“That’s helpful to know,” you said with a little smirk. “Especially when we're dueling and I’m losing.” 

“Merlin’s beard. My girlfriend’s downright evil.” 

You grinned so hard that your cheeks ached. Theo peppered kisses all over your face before setting you down. 

“I suppose we should head to dinner soon. My teammates watched you march in here in a fit of rage. They might think you’ve murdered me.” 

“There’s only one problem,” you said as you finally turned off the shower. “I’m soaking wet.” 

“I bet you are, darling.” 

You rolled your eyes. “From the shower, you wanker.” 

He grinned and kissed the top of your head. “It’s alright. I’ve got some extra clothes in my locker.”

Ten minutes later, the two of you walked out in the quidditch pitch hand in hand. Theo’s sweater completely enveloped you and he smiled a little at the sight. You received a few interesting stares as you made your way through the castle halls, but one look from Theo and they all quickly found something else to gawk at. Having a scary boyfriend was already paying off. 

On the way to dinner, you ran into Enzo. The git had the biggest smile on his face when he saw that you and Theo were holding hands. “So you heard him out after all, huh?” 

“Yeah, we sorted out our differences,” you said with a smile. “Coincidentally, I gained a boyfriend out of the whole ordeal. Happy now, Berkshire?” 

“Absolutely chuffed,” Enzo said with a grin. “See you lovebirds at dinner.” 

Theo rolled his eyes as his friend disappeared into the Great Hall. He turned, squeezing your fingers. “I should warn you. My friends can be a bit…much.” 

“Don’t worry, I think we all got fairly acquainted in the locker rooms. If they tease us, well I’ve got a perfectly scary boyfriend to fend them off.” 

He chuckled. “A scary boyfriend with an even more terrifying girlfriend.” 

You winked, kissing his bruised knuckles. “This school won’t know what hit them.” 

“Neither did Alec,” he said with a satisfied smirk. You gave him a reprimanding glare, but it was half-hearted. You didn’t actually feel sorry for the prick. “Sorry. Too soon?” 

“You know you can’t punch everyone that says anything bad about me, right?”

“Of course not. I’m perfectly capable of kicking them too.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Shut up and kiss me, Theo.” 

“Yes ma'am.” 

taglist: @annaisabookworm @marina468

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[00venator]

RING OF FIRE

tumblr please let me reblog ads please

[mind-intheclouds342]

Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly (Mouthwash)

Part 1

(This gonna be a mini serie)

"What do you mean I can't see him? It's my husband we're talking about."

You crossed your arms but tried to maintain a relaxed posture, you didn't want to get defensive, you knew well that Anya wasn't the one to blame, you were just too anxious after that crash.

Anya: "I'm so sorry (Y/n), but the captain himself has told me that he doesn't want you to see him... He doesn't feel capable of seeing you in the state he is"

"Oh, I understand now. But you know that if he is incapacitated to perform his tasks and give instructions, then that makes me the captain."

You said firmly, putting your hands on your waist and puffing your chest, making the woman feeling so little. 

Anya: "I know, but he... Give him time, please... He is in pain."

"Anya please- it's been a week already. I need to see him" 

You ran your hand over your face, pressing your brow for a few seconds, trying to relax. 

You had been working with Curly as her co-captain for years, and less than a year ago, you had even gotten married.

Many questioned your position since they said that in case you had to be promoted to captain if something happened to Curly, your judgment would be influenced by your husband. 

You weren't going to give them rigth to keep saying that. You worked too hard for that and you now that the situation has come up you will show them.

"You are right, the captain's last orders must be respected, but please, tell me if at any moment he feel ready to see me." 

You took the woman's hands firmly, almost pleadingly, to which she nodded. 

You needed to stay calm to keep everything in order on the ship. 

"The cockpit is completely destroyed... the corridor to it was automatically sealed with safety foam so that space wouldn't absorb us, we are floating aimlessly, and we don't have a radio to call for rescue..."

You murmured while attentively examining the ship's blueprints along with Swansea and Daisuke. 

"Are the suits still available?" 

Swansea: "The room where they are stored has foam that has sealed the door, but it is not a very thick layer."

"Then I'll use one and exit through the hatch to check the cockpit damage, maybe there's something that can still work."

Daisuke: "Woah... The covkpit was blown up... It's a miracle that the explosion allowed the captain to reach the corridor before it was sealed with foam, otherwise he would be floating in the-"

He fell silent when he saw Swansea's look, gesturing towards you. 

"Yes... the truth is that it was a miracle that he's still alive, I'm grateful for it... Let's stick to the plan."

You stood up, ready to go to the room where the spacesuits were.

At that moment, Swansea took the opportunity to hit Daisuke on the head. 

After managing to get in and take the suit, you headed to the exit room, equipped yourself before leaving through the hatch. 

You observed in detail the void around you, a dark sea full of stars and debris floating around you. 

You held on to the ship, trying to reach the cockpit.

Swansea: "(T/n), can you hear me? Can you see anything?"

You smiled upon realizing that the suit communicator was intact, happy to feel that you weren't alone on that walk. 

"Loud and clear Swansea, I'm approaching the cockpit, the foam has spread outside the ship, it seems that it has prevented the fire from spreading."

You responded and went down to the cockpit, there was almost nothing, the only thing found there was the floor and half of the control panel. 

You sighed in resignation upon seeing that there was nothing salvageable left, everything too broken and burned. 

Until you got scared when something hit your helmet. 

Swansea: "All good?? Your pulse has accelerated too much."

"Yeah... I'm sorry... Something scared me."

You mentioned seeing Curly's ring floating near you, and soon you took it before it drifted away and kept it. 

You returned to the ship and took off the suit, and upon seeing Swansea, you shook your head, assuring him that there was nothing there that you can use to get out of there.  

Daisuke: "How did it feel to be in space??"

Swansea: "Child!"

"No, no, it's fine Swansea," you raised your hand, interrupting the man before he could scold the boy. "You never get used to that feeling, I've gone out many times for different reasons but each one is unique."

Daisuke: "Did you see an alien?? Was that what scared you?"

"Oh yeah, it had enormous eyes and tentacles on its arms, giant and ponty teeth, ready to devour interns!"

You and Swansea started laughing when Daisuke hid behind the older one. 

When they stopped laughing, you looked at both of them with a smile. 

"We're going to find a way out of here, I promise you." 

Swansea: "Sure, captain," he nodded at your words. 

It felt so strange to finally be called that way, but you maintained your stance, nodding and leaving that place to head to the reserve depot. 

You started organizing the remaining food supplies, it seemed like they were going to have to ration a bit, so you began separating and counting everything to maintain an inventory. 

You locked the storage room with a key so there wouldn't be any food thefts. 

You rested your head against the door and sighed. 

You searched in your pocket and took out the ring you had found, noticing how it was slightly deformed by the heat and cold it had been exposed to, but it still retained its circular shape. 

You placed it on your ring finger, next to your wedding ring.

You were sure that his ring was way bigger than yours, but the explosion for sure make it smaller now for you to use it.

After looking at it for a while, you pressed your lips against the two rings. 

"We're going to get through this, no matter what it costs me."

[woso-dreamzzz]

Loss

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You lose

You wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

You wanted to take all your gloves and throw them into the fire and just watch them burn.

What use is a keeper that can't stop goals anyway?

Three goals went passed you today. Four if you count the one that was ruled offside.

Three balls shot passed you in the semifinal of the FA Cup. Arsenal would not be going to the final.

Faith had been put on you to carry the team through but you had fallen at the first hurdle.

A shot fired at you from point blank range in the first five minutes.

It skimmed your gloves and buried itself into your net.

The second came from a corner. A header that went just past your outstretched fingertips.

The third was during the second half. A cross into your box and a shot that zoomed past your body.

The fourth goal, the one called offside, had been whipped in just in front of you after you came out of your goal to collect.

It was a shocking performance from you and you fell face forward onto your bed to scream into your pillow.

Your phone keeps ringing and you know who it is.

You ignore it, turning your head so you can stare at your bedside table.

You watch your phone ring over and over again. The screen lights up and then goes dark again. It repeats again and again but all you can do is stare.

You don't want to think about the match. You want to crawl under your sheets and just die.

You've got to go out to get groceries tomorrow. You don't know how you're going to show your face in public.

Your performance was so embarrassing.

Your coach shouldn't have thought that putting an eighteen year old as keeper was a good idea. His faith in your ability was unfounded and you wonder briefly if it's too late to go back to school for something other than football.

You didn't think you needed a backup option. Football was everything to you. Football was your whole life.

You don't know what you're going to do without football.

Your phone rings again and you flip it over so you can't see the screen anymore.

Rocky looks back at you from his spot on your bedside table.

"Don't," You say to him," Don't look at me like that."

His blank googly eyes stare back at you.

"Stop it."

He keeps staring.

Your hand closes around him and your arm rears back in anger.

Rocky collides with your bedroom wall, clattering to the floor.

You scream into your pillow, forcing yourself not to cry.

You know everyone is going to be talking about your bad performance today. You knew you single-handedly sunk Arsenal's dream of the FA Cup this year.

Your phone rings again and again and you wish you had turned off your sound.

You never realised how annoying your ringtone was. If you remember when you wake up tomorrow, you'll have to change it.

The stupid jingle runs through your ears like how those goals run through your mind.

"I don't want to talk," You say when you finally gain the courage to answer your phone after watching it ring for at least an hour.

"Princesse-"

"No," You cut her off firmly," I don't want to talk. Stop calling me."

"No," Momma says," I watched the match-"

"I don't want to talk!" You insist," Why can't you leave me alone?!"

"Princ-"

"Stop it!" You say, tears running down your cheeks," Just stop!"

"It's not the end of the world." That's Morsa now.

"You weren't there! You don't know!"

"You think I haven't lost matches?" Comes Morsa's dry voice," I know all about losing, princesse. It's one match out of countless others. You'll get them next year."

"I don't want to get them next year!" You spit back," I wanted to get them this year!

"And that didn't work out," Momma says to you gently," And that's okay."

A sob rips through your throat. "Momma, I played so badly."

"You're still young," Momma says," You're never going to have a perfect game all season. It was unfortunate that it was today but it is what it is. You'll spend the weekend sulking about it but you'll improve yourself. You'll get better next time."

You crouch on your bedroom floor, picking up Rocky and wiping off the dirt from him.

One of his googly eyes has fallen off so you stick it back on.

"It's not just your fault," Morsa says," You're in a team sport, princesse. The blame never falls on one person's shoulders. You're still young. You've proven yourself to your team. One bad match doesn't ruin everything. You'll improve."

You wipe away your tears, clenching your fist around Rocky. "Really?"

"Of course. You're going to be great one day but you need to stumble a bit first. Learn from your mistakes and you'll get them next time."

You sniffle. "Thanks."

"Good girl," Momma says," Now, I want you to order food tonight, alright? You had a hard day. Treat yourself."

"I will."

"We love you."

"Love you too."

You look down at the rock in your hand and wince. "Sorry I threw you, Rocky. It won't happen again."

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

The Girl who Shattered Time.

Tom Riddle x Reader-long slow burn fic-requested

Warnings; Tom Riddle, single mention of suicidal thoughts/implication, shit ton of Fluff, angst. Happy ending. Rivals to lovers, no smut.

77 pages. 26,278 words. i am...very happy with how this turned out. enjoy!!!

=

Wind whipped in her hair, tossing her about as the broken time turner flew from her grasp-sending her off somewhere in time, she screamed as she twisted and turned, feeling herself being pushed and pulled through the very fabric of time.

It had been May 2, 1998, the battle of Hogwarts had been in full swing-fire and destruction everywhere, death eaters and dark creatures invading the once pristine grounds of the school.

She’d been fighting some snatchers, and had been blasted back into the DADA classroom-hitting the old desk and it fell with her weight, sending everything clattering to the floor.

“Nowhere to run mudblood.” The main snatcher of the group sneered, the others laughing cruelly, the one in front raising his wand. “Avada-“

Her hand moved and something turned and cracked under her weight, and then it was a whirlwind of magic and-everything in the room. She was lifted off her feet, screaming as everything went to madness, the snatchers disappearing from her sight like ink smearing as she was tossed and turned. She looked at her hand-seeing a cracked time turner, but it soon flew from her grip from how out of balance she was.

She screamed again and then she hit the floor, groaning as her body flared with pain from where she landed on her side and back. Her vision swam as she opened her eyes, her brows furrowed as she took in the thankfully familiar sight of the DADA classroom but it…looked different. It wasn’t…decorated how it was supposed to be. Things of course were strewn everywhere due to the chaos that just happened.

It took her only a moment to realize she’d been flung through time, the broken time turner sending her…somewhere in the past or future, she didn’t know yet. She still lay on the floor, her ears still ringing as her head pulsed with pain, her vision still swimming as she tried to regain her bearings.

Her eyes flicked to the office door as it clicked open and she saw an unfamiliar face-obscured by light and her motion sickness, rushing towards her. Unconsciousness took her before she could even see who the professor was.

-

She woke up in the familiar bright natural light of the hospital wing, whenever she was-the hospital wing sure didn’t change. She blinked and slowly sat up, the itchy fabric of the blanket falling from her shoulders she looked around, her blurry vision clearing as she rubbed her eyes.

“Finally awake I see,” she heard a friendly voice of an older witch and she turned, seeing, definitely not Madame Pomfrey, walking around the medical bed. The older witch, maybe in her late 50s, was in the same uniform (y/n) had gotten used to, but her hair was in that v-line bun style the working women of the late 40s wore during World War 2.

“Yeah-sorry for crashing in,” (y/n) said, her voice croaky as she was handed a glass of water and she greedily gulped it down. The older witch hummed, waving her wand in front of (y/n)’s eyes to check for any brain injuries and found nothing. Another wave confirmed no other bodily harm-though there was a cut on (y/n)’s hand that was already healed up and scarred over.

Magic was awesome.

“Well, miss…” the medical witch gave (y/n) a glance and (y/n) said her first and last name. “(y/n), now how exactly did you end up in the defense room? Out of thin air?”

“I crashed into the desk, time turner broke under my hand,” (y/n) explained simply and the medical witch nodded, that was a very simple explanation, and the witch was thankful for it, this would be hopefully easy to remedy.

“I see, if I can ask what year you were in before you were sent to this time?” the medical witch asked and (y/n) told her 1998, the medical witches eyes widening slightly, though she took a second look at (y/n)’s clothes, hairstyle, and realized that made sense.

“I see, well, welcome to 1943 miss (y/n).”

…1943?!?!

-

(y/n) flattened the skirt of the 1940s-era Hogwarts uniform she’d been given, curling her lip to the side a bit as she looked at the grey-toned blazer and skirt, far different from the black/deep charcoal color of the modern uniform she’d been used to. This uniform was heavy and almost a bit-itchy-being made of heavy cotton and linen, probably due to the war so more comfortable fabrics were less available.

(y/n) looked at herself in the mirror, fixing her hair to cover her left eye a bit more, as she preferred it to be covered due to a gnarly scar there, and usually she got way too many questions about it when it was uncovered so she kept it covered just to avoid all the drama.

She looked down at her skirt again, sighing-she’d begged the headmaster of his era, headmaster Dippet, to wear the pants since that’s what she was more comfortable with, but this era of the school was a bit more… conservative, though the current deputy headmaster, Dumbledore-which it felt so odd to see him so young and alive again-winked at her in that familiar way and she had a feeling she might get an exception from the dress code.

She grabbed the familiar black robe of the Hogwarts uniform and slipped it on, looking at the Hogwarts crest on the left side of the chest area, from what she was gathering, in this era, there was less obvious colors on the uniform, something about ‘encouraging cross house unity’ so instead of the house crest on the robe-it was just the Hogwarts crest, the house colors were instead just on the tie and vest.

Which right now, she was about to be resorted so she could blend in with the other students, as currently-Dumbledore nor Dippet knew exactly how to send her back to her time yet, as the time-turner that sent her here had been broken and lost during her accidental trip.

In the meantime, she’d join the students of this era and try not to cause trouble or change anything that could harm her future.

(y/n) turned as the door of the room she’d changed in was knocked on and after she confirmed she was decent, Dumbledore stuck his head through, his auburn hair a slightly weird sight since she’d gotten so used to his old wizard features.

“All ready?” Dumbledore asked and (y/n) nodded, stepping out of the room and towards the familiar headmaster's desk that had the sorting hat on top of it. She watched as Dumbledore took the sorting hat and put it on her head, the old leather hat coming to life once again.

“Curious, very curious-misplaced through time I see. Hmmm, well, what house were you before?” The hat muttered in its gravelly voice and (y/n) didn’t answer, knowing the hat could read her thoughts anyway. She’d been a Ravenclaw before, which had been fun-she’d made friends with Luna Lovegood her first year as they were both seen as ‘weird’, (y/n) being the roughhousing tomboy and Luna being…Luna.

She hoped Luna was okay back in the 90s, during that war-she hoped Potter would win.

“Mmm, let’s see let’s see, cunning, thinks outside the box, plenty of courage I see, not bad not bad, passionate, kind but not weak-willed, mmmm not one to let others change you, how interesting…I know where to put you-Slytherin!”

(y/n) swallowed a bit harshly, feeling the hat being pulled from her head.

Slytherin.

Well fuck.

-

As Professor Dumbledore walked her to the great hall, he told her some more information about when exactly she was.

It was early in the school year thankfully, just barely into November, which meant she hadn’t missed too much of their curriculum-she supposed she should be thankful for that-she didn’t have months to catch up on and most likely their basic lesson plans followed the same as her worlds-though much less dark arts and more defense against it since there were no death eaters teaching any classes and no Voldemort pulling the strings.

She shuddered, remembering the class that had been earlier that day-the DA professor, one of those Carrow twins, had made them use the torture curse on first years-thankfully she had never been picked to cast it as some other 6th year had outright said no, resulting in punishment for him and the rest of the class had to watch.

She shook her head to rid herself of that memory, it was no use thinking of it now, even though it made her feel more…resolved, to get back to her time so she could help fight the death eaters probably still invading Hogwarts and destroying it.

She hoped she’d get back home one day.

Dumbledore led her into the great hall, and it was just barely beginning to be filled up with students for dinner, the familiar sight of all the tables and the lights and the enchanted ceiling made her body ease up-it felt like coming home again after being in such a terrifying version of Hogwarts.

“Now, Slytherin table is just over there, and I’ll have one of the prefects guide you around, to make sure you know your way. Perhaps tutor you, if need be,” Dumbledore said and (y/n) nodded, fixing the bang over her left eye as she looked towards the Slytherin dining table, seeing groups of them all sitting down together-no doubt most of them purebloods and half-bloods.

Dumbledore gently gave her a little tap on her shoulder, and she sighed, walking towards the Slytherin table, making her way towards the end where no one was sitting yet and all eyes drew to her.

She knew why-she was a new face, unfamiliar, with hair different than theirs(she’d refused to let anyone touch it to make it more ‘40s’. She liked her hair very much and liked how it was styled to hide her eye.), and probably held herself very differently than how they were used to.

New sudden students always drew attention.

She sat down, crossing her arms on the table-elbows and all, staring up and around the ceiling of the great hall, admiring the night sky above. More students filed in as dinner time grew closer, and she could feel eyes on her as Slytherin students came and sat down. A few sat around her, but she still kept her gaze to herself.

She felt a sudden shiver run up her spine and she turned her head-peeking out from her bangs to see a tall pale boy with dark wavy hair that was styled to perfection, with dark deep eyes and lips in a slight pout. He had a prefect badge on his uniform robe and walked with a purpose, heading straight for a group of boys that sat in the middle of the table, boys she swore she had seen before-or well, maybe their grandchildren that went to school with her for the last 6ish years.

She could pick out a few, like maybe the one with brown hair and beauty marks was Theodore Nott’s grandfather, and she thinks she can see Goyle and Crabb’s grandfathers sitting a few seats down-not really a part of the group of boys but also clearly interested in being a part of it.

The group of boys seem to watch the tall perfect one with high interest, almost looking to him like a leader-none of them take their eyes off him, watching his every move and when he speaks-cockney she hears-they hang onto every word.

She frowns a bit, it almost reminded her of how Draco Malfoy acted with his own group of goons/friends, like Blaise, Theodore Nott, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle-they all followed him around like some sort of leader, even though he was pretty pathetic. She smirked a bit to herself remembering the ferret incident a few years back-that was a super funny day, even though it had been a death eater turning the blonde prat into one.

…yeah no, still funny, honestly even funnier when one considers the connection between the Malfoys and other death eaters.

She felt eyes on her again and she looked up, seeing that tall pale boy looking at her now-his gaze seemingly looking right through her and she felt a slight pressure in the back of her mind and she instantly pulled her occlumency walls up-having learned that just before the school year started to protect herself-and the pressure stopped-the pale boys brows furrowing ever so slightly, so slightly it was nearly impossible to see if one wasn’t watching for the micro-expression.

(y/n)’s gaze turned away from him as the dinner feast appeared on the table and she let the few students around her grab their food first before she began to eat.

She looks around at the many plates that decorate the table and has a short realization that the house elves really just-didn’t change the menu at all, she wonders if they ever had.

Whatever, at least she knows what she’s eating.

She feels someone sit right next to her and she looks, seeing a girl-obviously from Slytherin-staring at her with a smile. She looks nice enough. “Hi, are you new?” the girl asks and (y/n) nods, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Uh, yeah,” (y/n) mutters, setting down her fork. The girl smiles, holding out her hand.

“I’m Lucy, Lucy Flint, and you are?” (y/n) smiles back, shaking Lucy’s hand.

“I’m (y/n), (y/n) (l/n),” (y/n) says, hoping Lucy wouldn’t clock her muggle last name, since her father had been muggleborn, her mother half-blood-and she recognized Lucy’s last name, Marcus Flint from her era-a mean, and bit ugly, Slytherin boy who had been quidditch captain until he graduated a few years back.

But Lucy seemed nice, with short bobbed hair that curled at the ends, pretty brown eyes, and a very sweet smile. Marcus couldn’t have been descended from her, must’ve been his great aunt maybe.

“I don’t recognize that last name? im pretty familiar with all wizard families.” Lucy asked and (y/n) lightly hissed through her teeth, giving a shrug.

“Uh, my great grandad was muggleborn, my grandma married into a pureblood family-I forget which one though since my granddad took my mom's name, thought it was-cooler, or something.” (y/n) said/lied, fumbling a bit, hoping that her explanation didn’t sound stupid.

Lucy laughed a bit, shaking her head. “How curious, you say you don’t remember which pureblood family your grandmother married into?” Lucy asked and (y/n) shook her head. Oh she knew exactly which pureblood family her ‘grandma’ had married into, except that was all bullshit and her actual pureblood granddad was probably in the school right now and it would be really stupid of her to try and pass herself off as some distant relative of his when he probably knew every crook and cranny of his family line.

Lucy only hummed and nodded. “All right then-oh, may I ask which school you transferred from? Especially with it nearly being the end of the first term.” Lucy asked and (y/n) came up with another lie.

“Oh uh, I was being homeschooled,” she said plainly, picking at her thumb under the table. She was talking herself into a corner here-she really wished she could just start talking truth soon instead of trying to lie about her family and her background. “My granddad, on the pureblood side, wasn’t a big fan of Hogwarts, something about the-muggleborns, n stuff.” (y/n) said, only half lying now since one of her family members had tried to convince her parents not to let her go to Hogwarts and be homeschooled by him so he could teach her the dark arts.

(y/n) swallowed at the memory of that family member, brushing her bangs over her eye again.

“Ah, my grandfather was the same way, but my father insisted my brother and I attend Hogwarts, social development and connections as he said.” Lucy said with a dismissive wave of her hand, and the casual way she said it made the tightness in (y/n)’s chest ease up and she took a breath, straightening her shoulders out as Lucy continued to talk.

“I’m sure you’ll love it here anyways, while the classes can be quite boring-especially history of magic-Hogwarts has much to offer and the Hogsmeade weekends can be very entertaining.” Lucy rambled on, the tension (y/n) felt since sitting down at the table eased up and she nodded, feeling hopeful for her first friend of the past.

It was sort’ve funny to act like as if she’d never stepped foot in Hogwarts before as Lucy prattled on about the school and everything about it, including the enchanted ceiling, but (y/n) just smiled and nodded, nibbling at a buttered roll as Lucy pointed out the professors and which class they taught.

Dumbledore was the transfiguration professor and head of Gryffindor house, Slughorn was the potions professor and head of Slytherin house, Diggory was the herbology professor and Head of Hufflepuff house, and Vassy was the charms professor(as well as the flying teacher) and head of Ravenclaw hours, and so on and so forth.

(y/n) only knew two of them, Professor Dumbledore and Professor Slughorn, though Dumbledore had passed the year before and Slughorn was once again head of Slytherin house with Snape now being headmaster-well, in her time. Now everything was…normal, the halls weren’t dark, the magic of the castle wasn’t suffocating anymore, and the professors all looked bright and proper.

Hogwarts felt like home again, and (y/n) had a feeling she wasn’t going to mind being in the past all that much.

-

(y/n) let Lucy begin to drag her up from the table and towards the doors of the great hall, glad to already have a friend who seemed nice, when the voice of Professor Dumbledore caught her attention. “Miss (l/n),” she turned, Lucy turning as well as Dumbledore summoned her forth and (y/n) let out a low sigh, letting go of Lucy’s hand-or well tried, Lucy was now holding her arm-walking up to Dumbledore.

“Yes sir?” (y/n) asked, looking up at the old wizard(though he didn’t look as old as she was used to.) Dumbledore glanced between her and Lucy.

“I see you’ve made a friend already, wonderful. I assume now you won’t need someone to show you around?” Dumbledore asked and (y/n) nodded, Lucy clinging tighter to her arm, as if to claim the ‘honor’ of showing her around.

“No sir, I think Lucy has taken on the job for herself,” (y/n) said, seeing Lucy smiling out of the corner of her eye. Dumbledore nodded.

“Very well, I’ll leave you in her hands. Goodnight you two, sleep well.” Dumbledore said with a nod of his head and (y/n) and Lucy nodded, bidding the professor goodnight as well, Lucy tugging (y/n) out of the great hall, giving a short tour on the way to the Slytherin common room. It was in the lower levels of the castle, near the dungeons and the potions classroom. (y/n) held Lucy’s hand as they walked amongst the crowd to the common room.

Everyone walked up to a solid brick wall, and the prefect at the front-leading the first years-said the password and a snake that had been carved into the floor slid up and formed into an arch that revealed the door to the common room. (y/n) whistled under her breath, blinking a bit, well-that was impressive.

Lucy laughed at her reaction and pulled her into the common room. It was very green, and silver and opulent, with large windows that viewed into the black lake…and had multiple rooms-wow.

“Wow,” (y/n) said under her breath as Lucy pulled her around, showing her every nook and cranny of the common room, eventually pulling her towards the grand set of stairs that led to the door rooms-tugging her up the right staircase and into the halls with all the dorms.

“let's see if we can find yours,” Lucy said, trailing her fingers under the silver plaque on each door-each one having the name of its occupants on it. They passed Lucy’s dorm that she shared with four other girls, until they reached a door that had only one name on it. “(y/n) (l/n), oh how lucky! you get a private room!” Lucy gasped, (y/n) opening the door to step inside.

Wow, she really did get her own room, considering there was only one bed and everything else was pretty standard room décor. Lucy admired the room, looking around-frowning when she didn’t see (y/n)’s trunk for the rest of her clothes.

“Where's your trunk?” Lucy asked, peeking under (y/n)’s bed to look for it. (y/n) shrugged a bit, she didn’t have one-considering she’d come to this time with nothing but her wand and the clothes she had on during the battle.

“Don’t have one…don’t have extra clothes now that I think about it,” (y/n) mumbled, jumping as Lucy gasped and jumped up-grabbing her arms.

“You know what that calls for right?” Lucy asked, her eyes wide as (y/n) blinked, before shaking her head. Lucy grinned, almost crazily. “Shopping spree~”

“Oh-I don’t have any money-“ (y/n) said weakly, her mouth being covered by Lucy as she shushed her.

“Don’t worry about it~ I’ll handle it, besides-I’ve been dying to go shopping at the new store at Hogsmeade.” Lucy said enthusiastically, squeezing (y/n)’s shoulders after releasing her mouth. (y/n) sighed, but nodded with a grateful smile.

“Thanks, Lucy,” (y/n) said softly and Lucy grinned brightly.

“You’re very welcome (y/n)~ oh! Let me introduce you to my friends-and roommates-c’mon!” Lucy said, taking (y/n)’s hand and dragging her back out of her dorm and to Lucy’s dorm, there she met the four girls that made up Lucy’s roommates: Bella Lars, Iridessa Hawthorn, Alice Macnair, and Julia Nettleskip

By curfew, (y/n) had a whole new group of friends, all of them much nicer than she had ever expected.

-

That night, after learning she didn’t have any roommates and she’d been ‘homeschooled’ before transferring to Hogwarts-all her new friends brought their pillows and blankets into her room and they had a sleepover-Alice, one of her new friends and Lucy’s roommates, letting her borrow some sleepwear since they were the same size and (y/n) didn’t have any sleepwear to begin with.

“Have you ever had voice-changing chocolates before (y/n)?” Bella asked (y/n) as she held out the box to (y/n) who was sitting on the footboard bench at the end of her bed. She nodded, taking one and popping it into her mouth-the chocolate melting on her tongue and her voice changed to make bird noises as the other girls all giggled.

Iridessa was the one who brought all the snacks, (y/n) being told she hoarded candy every Hogsmeade trip ‘just in case’, which meant there were several piles of sweets and snacks to choose from.

(y/n) was having a blast, she couldn’t remember the last time she had this much fun at a sleepover, much less with a group of Slytherins.(especially within the last year)

After a few hours, (y/n) fell into an exhausted but happy sleep, arms clutching her pillow as she relished in the cold of her room-the perfect sleeping temperature. Spread out on the floor, on top of pillows transfigured into mattresses, were her new friends, all sleeping soundly-the night well spent.

-

The next morning was a slight rush-they’d all slept in since they’d all stayed up late and so-when the clock struck for half past 7-half past breakfast more like it-the group of girls scrambled to wake up and get ready for the day, (y/n) being left in her room alone as she washed her face and put on a fresh uniform, adored in the emerald green of Slytherin instead of the sapphire blue of Ravenclaw. It was a bit odd to see herself in that color, but it didn’t look too bad.

She did her hair-making sure her bangs were over her left eye-hiding the scar, and quickly grabbed her bag and books and rushed out of her room-her arm interlocking with Lucy’s as she and her new friends rushed to the great hall to make the last 20 minutes of breakfast.

They got there with 13 to spare and ate what was left of the breakfast feast, (y/n) wiping syrup from her chin as Lucy grabbed her hand again to drag her to the first class of the day-which was Charms. Lucy quickly led (y/n) to sit next to her, knocking into the tall brooding boy who had been staring at (y/n) the night before at dinner.

“Sorry!” (y/n) rushed out as he stumbled, his dark eyes landing on her again as she stumbled into the seat next to Lucy, taking a breath since they’d made it just in time before the professor strolled in. The boy with dark eyes sat down as well-directly across from (y/n), but (y/n) paid no mind to him, taking out her grade 6 ‘standard book of spells’ from her bag, along with her wand and her notebook.

The professor, Tryphena Vassy, taught charms differently than Professor Flitwick did but it was refreshing to learn charms differently, it helped that she had already learned most of the charms of her 6th year curriculum-well, before she got blasted into the past by a snatcher and a broken time turner.

Still, (y/n) listened and wrote down notes, simply enjoying a calm and proper class after so long. After a bit she looked up from her notes, locking eyes with the dark-eyed boy from earlier-and he was staring back at her, his wand between his thin fingers, slowly spinning his wand around his knuckles-his other hand serving as a chin rest.

(y/n) blinked, glancing away at the professor and then back at the boy, he was still staring at her.

She ignored him the best she could and went back to listening to the professor and taking notes. While she and Lucy left class, she grabbed Lucy’s wrist to pull her close and spoke quietly to her. “Hey Lucy, who’s that?” (y/n) asked, pointing to the dark-eyed boy who had been staring at her in class, who was once again surrounded by a group of pureblood boys.

“Hmm?” Lucy hummed, looking to where (y/n) was pointing, gasping with a dreamy smile. “Oh, that’s Tom Riddle~ one of the Slytherin prefects, rumor is that he’s actually a pureblood, despite being an orphan.” (y/n) frowned a bit, mulling over the name Tom Riddle in her head.

She felt like she should know that name-it was on the tip of her brain-she swore she’d heard that name before, but from where? “Okay?” (y/n) mumbled and Lucy giggled, wrapping her arms around (y/n)’s arm and leading her through the hall to their next shared class.

“He’s a dreamboat, isn't he?” Lucy sighed as they passed by the group of boys, Tom, as she learned the dark-eyed boy’s name was, glanced at the two as they walked past-his eyes locked onto (y/n) before returning his attention to his friends.

“He’s, pleasing to the eye I guess?” (y/n) mumbled, shrugging a bit as Lucy gasped as if those words offended her. “What? I said he’s pleasing to the eye! I didn’t call him ugly!” (y/n) said, defending her lack of attraction to Tom as Lucy huffed, and then laughed, the two continuing down the hall as Tom’s eyes drifted back over to (y/n), keeping his gaze locked on her as she and Lucy walked away.

-

(y/n) decided she hated Tom Riddle. No-better word-she LOATHED Tom Riddle. He was just such-an asshat!! Ever since she’d caught his eye in charms class, he was constantly one upping her in all their shared classes, especially in potions and defense against eh dark arts, if she tried to answer a question or-even do anything! He had to be mr-correctal and either speak over her or correct what she was doing.

It reminded her of Hermione Granger, who was very well known for being high strung about all her classes and could be quite annoying about anything to do with academics-she remembered Hermione even correcting her once about her wand movements back when she was in 2nd year.

Hermione, however, did all that to at least try to be helpful, even if it was annoying. Tom? Oh, she knew he was doing all this on purpose-doing it just to annoy her, because she swore he wasn’t doing it with anyone else!!

It had only been a week since landing back in 1943 and she loathed Tom Riddle, she needed to kick him down several pegs or she swore to Merlin she was going to implode.

She got the first chance to do it in potions class, they’d all been tasked with making the draught of living death-and lucky for (y/n), she’d already done this class with professor Slughorn in her time, so with the knowledge from that, and having some extra knowledge from a potions ingredient book she bought before her original 6th year started-she got to work.

The class was only an hour long-some of that being spent with Slughorn talking at the start, but now (y/n) and the rest of the students had less than an hour to make a decent attempt at the potion, to which Slughorn had said he expected no one to get a perfect potion.

She glanced up, seeing Tom following the instructions in the advanced potion-making book, trying to cut into the Sopophorous, his lip curling as the bean just bounced around instead of obeying his whims.

(y/n) turned her knife to use the flat side of it, crushing the bean as everyone else struggled to even nick it. Tom must’ve heard her do so because his head snapped up, eyes locked onto her as she crushed the bean and put the juice of it into a small glass bowl to use for later in the potion-getting all her ingredients ready before beginning.

(y/n) looked up, smirking as she caught Tom’s eye, and then continued on with making the potion. Tom’s nose twitched, as did his lip, and he looked back down-turning his knife to crush the bean.

Within the hour, (y/n) would glance up every once in a while, seeing how disastrous everyone else’s potion-making was going. She could see Lucy-whose hair was frizzing at the ends as she stressfully stirred the potion, trying to stop it from boiling over the lip of the cauldron, and Tom-oh Tom.

His hair was a curly mess, and if (y/n) didn’t usually seethe at the sight of him, she would dare say it was cute, because clearly he tried to hide those curls more often than not-with all that hair gel he used.

(y/n) looked back down at her potion as Tom’s eyes flashed up, and he huffed a bit, gritting his teeth as he looked at his potion-and while it wasn’t a bad attempt, it was clear (y/n)’s potion wasn’t fighting her as much as his was.

Tom wiped his nose with his wrist and went back to work.

Soon Slughorn called for everyone to step back from their potions so he could review them, starting with Tom’s of course-(y/n) had quickly learned Tom was practically a golden child in Slughorn’s eyes, with all the praise he gave him, even calling Tom ‘my boy’ a lot, in pretty much every sentence.

“let's see, let's see, ah-of course, Tom my boy, practically perfect.” Slughorn praised and Tom smirked, his head tilting up a bit with pride-his hair now back into its slicked style after he got a moment to do so. Slughorn continued around the room, encouraging those who hadn’t exactly done well with the potion-as it was extremely difficult.

Finally, he reached (y/n)’s worktable and examined the potion, nodding. “Color is correct, and thickness is just right. But let's see,” Slughorn hummed, dropping a leaf into the cauldron and it burned into nothingness almost instantly, making Slughorn gasp-not even Tom’s had made the leaf disappear that quickly! “Merlin’s beard, it's perfect! So perfect I say a drop would kill us all!” Slughorn said, looking back at (y/n) with wide eyes as she smiled with pride.

Her eyes locked with Tom’s, his dark eyes full of shock and almost fury at being upstaged, and (y/n) only smirked back, rolling her head away from him.

Take that sucker. She thought, soon reuniting with Lucy as they walked out of the potions classroom to enjoy their double class for defense against the dark arts. “Flint.” They both paused, turning to see Tom walking towards them, hands behind his back as his robe billowed behind them. “May I take a moment of Ms. (l/n)’s time?” Tom asked and Lucy seemed a little hesitant but when Tom gave her a little smirk she folded like laundry and let (y/n)’s arm go.

(y/n) tried to grab Lucy again but Tom was already grabbing her wrist and dragging her off. “Let go of me-you git!” (y/n) hissed, Tom rolling his eyes, pulling her into an alcove.

“Oh stop, I’m not going to hex you,” Tom huffed, blocking her from leaving by standing in front of her-his arms crossed. (y/n) glared back, rubbing her wrist. “How did you do it?” Tom asked, his expression intense but very curious, leaning towards her. She put her hand on his face-pushing him back-which left him stunned because no one had ever done that before.

“Do what? Oh-show you up? Maybe you’re just not the best at everything as you think you are.” (y/n) said with a huff, putting her hands on her hips as Tom scoffed.

“Please. I’m the top student Hogwarts has seen in decades-not even bloody Dumbledore got where I am in all the classes-now tell me-where did you learn potions like that? You must’ve been cheating-no one else was crushing the beans.” Tom said, pushing her shoulder to make her look at him and she glared.

“I didn’t cheat! how dare you! Just because someone Is better at you at something doesn’t mean they’re unfair at it, I just happened to have gotten a potions textbook about ingredients and the best way to utilize them-it’s not my fault no one else knew to crush the beans instead of cutting them!” (y/n) hissed back, pushing Tom’s shoulder in retaliation.

Tom’s nostrils flared and his jaw clicked. “Perhaps you’re getting too ahead of yourself Ms. (l/n).” Tom hissed, getting in her face, his teeth nearly bared. “I would watch your mouth if I were you.”

“And if I were you-perhaps, I’d stop being a know-it-all cunt!” (y/n) snapped back, Tom gasping and then being shoved back, stumbling into the wall as (y/n) stormed away from the alcove, turning around to flip him off before catching up with Lucy-who had waited for her.

“Oh, it is game on little girl.” Tom growled beneath his breath; his hands clenched at his sides.

Game on indeed.

-

Tom had never felt so-invigorated before. This feeling, he’d felt it before, but not this strongly, not even towards Dumbledore, who had always made Tom feel on edge the moment he’d come to see Tom at the orphanage before Tom’s first year at Hogwarts.

But this? Oh, this was a breath of fresh air, a thrilling race to his heart-a skip in his step when he battled wits with one (y/n) (l/n). This-loathing-was almost…fun.

“How do you deal with her Tom?” Nott asked as they left transfiguration class-where he and (y/n) had fought for a good seat upon arrival, Tom having lost it because (y/n) had some better muscles on her. She’d boxed him right off the seat, smirking down at him as he fell to the floor-looking up at her shocked, and a bit impressed.

“What he said, she’s a terror!” Avery said, glaring back at (y/n) as she and Lucy walked the other way down the corridor. Tom only hummed with a small shrug, a smirk on his lips.

“Well, such things are sent to try us, make us try to break, to show weakness.  I won't allow such things, soon she’ll know her place.” Tom said, his ‘friends’ all nodding to his wise words.

Their rivalry continued, especially during dueling class-the two usually trying to get paired up so they could hex and curse each other to high heaven without getting in trouble. Usually-Tom would take the win since he was quite adept in dueling-but (y/n) soon learned his tricks, how he would slightly show what spell he was about to cast with a step, or a look in his eyes.

That’s when she started winning, blasting him off his feet right when he was about to cast a hex at her-mid word and everything. “Oh my,” Professor Merrythought mumbled under her breath as Tom tumbled off the dueling mat, (y/n) grinning with victory as Tom flipped over himself, his robe fluttering over his head.

“And that’s-10 to 7 now,” (y/n) hummed, bowing to Tom as he flung his robe end back over his head, glaring at (y/n), though he was impressed how she’d learned his tells, before her-no one had beat him in dueling since 3rd year.

“Rotten luck,” Tom grumbled under his breath, accepting her handshake-hissing under his breath as she gripped his hand a little too tight, shaking it a bit as she released it and turned around, heading back into the line of students watching the duels going on in the classroom.

“How's that-making her learn her place-thing going?” Nott asked Tom as they met up in the corridor, Tom staring at (y/n)’s back as she walked the opposite way with her head held high, clearly running off the high of beating him at a duel.

“I’m working on it.” Tom huffed, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he crossed through the garden courtyard, his breath coming out as a slight fog since it was getting colder as winter reared its head. “Unfortunately, she’s stubborn as a mule and resilient as an ox, hard-headed and foolish-nothing I could do could take her down a peg.” Tom grumbled, mostly to himself.

Nott hummed from beside Tom, looking back at (y/n), her friends walking with her, his eyes zeroing in on Alice-someone he knew very well. He glanced back at Tom, smirking to himself. Maybe all the girl needed was a little-push.

-

(y/n) had never noticed that Alice and Nott knew each other-but she supposed all, or most, purebloods knew each other. But they’d been hanging around each other more often, and that gave (y/n) a weird queasy feeling in her stomach, she did her best to brush it off, since the other girls didn’t seem all too weirded out with Alice hanging out with one of Tom’s friends.

But still, it made her feel like something was off, like she should watch her back-a feeling she hated.

The feeling reached its peak when she and her friends were hanging out in the main courtyard at the front of the castle, sitting at the fountain, waiting for the Hogsmeade carriages to be ready so they could head out for the afternoon. Nott was with them, Alice hugging his arm as he smirked down at her. (y/n) glanced at him every so often, not really trusting his closeness to her-but she wasn’t going to ruin Alice’s fun by asking her to make him go away.

(y/n) turned as the other students hanging out in the courtyard began to head out to the carriages, gasping as she was suddenly shoved and went right into the fountain that had just started to freeze over from the recent cold weather.

Her friends all gasped her name-Alice shoving Nott away to step forward, (y/n) shoving her hand away as she sat up out of the fountain, soaking wet and freezing. She glared at Nott, slicking her hair out of her eyes. There was laughter from the other students, quiet and snickering, Nott the loudest of them all-Alice turned to glare at him, before everyone went quiet as Tom emerged from the school-having seen Nott push Audrey into the fountain, his gaze locked onto her as she pulled her legs in from the fountain edge to stand up.

Nott grinned, expecting some sort of acknowledgment from Tom but Tom paid him no mind-heading right for (y/n), holding out his hand. She looked up at him-he kept his hand out, staring right at her.

He didn’t know why, but he didn’t like seeing her like this.

(y/n) clicked her jaw, taking his hand and he helped her out of the fountain, taking his coat off to set it around her shoulders to keep her warm. “Tom-“ Nott protested-not expecting this move from Tom, so clearly denouncing Nott’s humiliating move against (y/n). Tom gave him a silencing glance, and took (y/n) from around the shoulders, leading her back inside the warm castle.

“Why?” (y/n) asked as soon as they entered the castle, her friends following not too far behind.

“I would prefer to humble you, not humiliate you.” Tom said, so quietly as if he didn’t believe it. He walked her to the Slytherin common room, quietly staring ahead of him-calculating everything in his head.

He’d seen Nott get too close to (y/n), it had made him angry-he didn’t understand why-but he saw him touch her, that’s when he began to move-but then Nott had pushed (y/n) into the fountain and that’s what made him shove through students to get to her.

He didn’t know why he hated seeing (y/n) so…pathetic. He was so used to seeing her so-prideful, strong, unrelenting, so…similar to him, but in her own way.

He hated seeing her look so…hurt.

Tom sighed, catching (y/n)’s attention as she went to hand him his coat back. “It wasn’t my idea, what Nott did.” Tom said, quietly, avoiding her gaze. “Despite our…rivalry, I do not wish to see you harmed, or…humiliated. I…” he swallowed the lump in his throat-a new feeling. “Apologize, for his behavior, I’ll keep him, and any others, in line.” Tom said, looking at (y/n).

She looked, surprised, her eyes widened-then her expression softened in a curious thought.

“Huh.” She mumbled, watching him intently. “Maybe you’re not as bad as I thought,” she said to herself, and then handed over his coat, nodding-his eyes drifting to the scar that went from her forehead down to her cheekbone on the left side of her face. He didn’t mention it, because usually (y/n) had her hair covering that side of her face, a scar she probably didn’t want pointed out.

“Thanks…Tom.” (y/n) said, heading up to her dorm room, her friends all close behind as they entered the common room after letting Tom and (y/n) have their conversation.

Tom took a deep long breath, clutching his coat in his hands, staring down at it.

Maybe this feeling, wasn’t loathing after all.

-

Of course (y/n) had ended up sick, when one gets pushed into a freezing fountain in the open air, they were bound to get sick. In the morning, Lucy had come to check up on her-as did Alice, with an apology gift for letting Nott get so close-when (y/n) hadn’t woken up for breakfast, finding (y/n) in her bed, sounding congested and miserable.

“Oh (y/n),” Lucy said, walking up to her bedside, seeing (y/n)’s flushed face, putting her hand on her forehead-feeling her high temperature. “c’mon, let's get to you madam Tegner,” Lucy said, her and Alice helping (y/n) out of her bed, putting a fluffy robe around her, before helping (y/n) out of the dorms and up the many stairs to the hospital wing-where the head healer, Madam Tegner, took (y/n) in and got her set up in one of the many medical beds.

“Here you go dear,” Madam Tegner said, giving (y/n) a few potions to help fight the nasty cold she’d gotten. (y/n) let out a small grumble, hardly feeling up to even speak, but she swallowed down the potions and went right back to sleep, her friends bringing down a comfy blanket and one of her fluffy pillows from her room.

She woke up every now and then, vision blurry and throat hurting like hell, coughing up her lungs with every raspy breath. This was probably the sickest she’d been in a long time, enough to where she missed a whole week of classes.

When she regained her senses, long enough to actually look around her little area-she saw get-well cards from her friends and a few gifts on the end of the bed table-one of them from...Nott?? she sat up, moving to sit on her knees as she leaned forward to grab the wrapped gift, looking at the tag.

‘sorry-C.Nott.’ the tag said, (y/n) quirked her lip, Tom must’ve made him apologize properly, merlin knows Nott would’ve never done this out of his own free will. Either way, she unwrapped the gift, finding a pair of well-made winter gloves, white in color.

“Soft,” she murmured under her breath, trying them on. A perfect fit. She took them off, putting them back in the box, reading the get-well cards from her friends and opening the other gifts. One was from Lucy who got her a new winter coat after the original one from lucy-from their shopping spree-had been ruined by the fountain, getting all gross from the ice and mud. The others were from her friends, Alice had gotten her warming chocolates, Bella had gotten her a few sugar quills, Iridessa of course had gotten her crystalized flowers, and Julia had gotten her a cute snowflake necklace that changed shape every minute.

(y/n) smiled, putting on the necklace and eating a warming chocolate, which felt like sipping on a mug of coco by the fire, and turned to lay down again, realizing there was one more thing on her bedside table.

Notes? She tilted her head, sitting up again to grab the stack of papers-they were all in Tom’s handwriting, each meticulously written and sorted, and even double proofread, with small notes in the corners of the pages for which books she’d need for all the classes she’d missed over the week.

(y/n) smiled, she’d said it before, but maybe Tom wasn’t so bad after all.

Madam Tegner soon cleared (y/n) to leave the hospital wing since she was feeling better, and (y/n) took all her things back to her dorm room, tossing her blanket and pillow onto her bed as she dumped her presents and cards onto the lounge chair by the space heater.

She checked the clock, glad to see it was lunch time, so she changed into some fresh clothes, put on a cozy jumper, and headed up to the great hall, unable to help her smile as her friends jumped up to greet her. “(y/n)!” “How are you feeling?” “Are you okay?” “Do you need any water?” “Did you get enough sleep?”

(y/n) laughed gently, sitting down between Lucy and Julia, Lucy clinging to her arm-which (y/n) allowed, since her dominant hand was still available to use. “I'm okay, I feel much better, I had plenty of water, and yes, I had plenty of sleep. Thank you for the cards and bringing my blanket and pillow-it helped.” (y/n) said with a smile and her friends smiled back, Alice apologizing again for letting Nott get so close.

“It's okay Alice, I know you didn’t know his plan; besides, Tom actually made him apologize too, got me a nice pair of gloves.” (y/n) said, sipping at some pumpkin juice as Alice sighed with relief, glad she didn’t lose her friend.

“Really? Tom Riddle made Nott apologize?” Iridessa asked, her brow raised-she was probably the only one other than (y/n) not to ‘fall’ for the glamour of the dark-eyed boy, seeing him as just a fellow student who happened to be good-looking.

“Yeah, he left a whole stack of notes for me too,” (y/n) said, digging into a sandwich from the lunch feast set out on all the house tables. “From every class we share-it was like 10 pounds, very detailed too.” Her friends all glanced at each other, and then back at (y/n). “…what?” (y/n) asked, not knowing why they were staring, looking so...shocked.

“Tom Riddle…wrote notes…for someone other than himself??” Julia said slowly, her brow raising, her voice full of near awe and disbelief.

“…yeah?” (y/n) said, sipping at her pumpkin juice again. Iridessa looked at the other girls and they looked back. “With how you’re all looking at me, I'm going to guess he’s never done that before and I'm somehow special because he did it for me?” (y/n) drawls and her friends nod, Lucy shrugging a bit.

“Well, yeah, he hates letting anyone borrow his notes, usually only offers it for a price, like for a few Sickles.” Bella said, having actually asked Tom for a copy of his notes from a shared class they had-one she’d missed one day, and she knew Tom had the best notes in the class, so she’d asked him, but he only let her have a copy for a few coins. “So, him writing a week’s worth of notes, from multiple classes, for nothing? Is a bit…new.” Bella finished, (y/n) shrugging.

 “Perhaps it was his way of apologizing,” (y/n) muttered, not thinking too deeply into it. Her friends all shared a glance-thinking it was much more than a simple ‘apology’ for what Nott had done. But they left it at that, just happy (y/n) was feeling better.

-

Tom’s notes helped (y/n) a lot more than she thought they would, they practically saved her ass as end of term tests came around, (y/n) flipping through page after page of perfectly written notes to study for hours on end to catch up so she didn’t fail any tests.

So as the week before holiday break came around, and (y/n)’s results came in, she slumped in relief, she passed each and every one of them, all of them having either Exceeds expectations(since, she had been sick for a week and missed a bunch of classes) or outstandings. (y/n) bit her lip in thought, glancing down the table at Tom, who smirked at his test results and slipped them back into the envelope, continuing to eat his dinner.

Ever since she’d gotten better, her and Tom hadn’t…been at each other’s throat as much-in fact, he almost seemed to…try to be pleasant with her. He stopped correcting her in class and didn’t interrupt her when she raised her hand. It was sort’ve…nice.

Even then-it came as quite the shock when-

“Accompany me To Slughorn’s Christmas party?” Tom asked (y/n) as they left potions class, just after Slughorn had announced his yearly Slugclub Christmas party. (y/n) blinked, staring at Tom as he stared back at her, looking calm as ever-but if one looked closer, they would see the twitch of his fingers. He was nervous.

“Uh…” (y/n) mumbled, furrowing her brows in thought. The last time she had gone to a Slugclub party was her 5th year, back in her original time, and it hadn’t really been…good. “I dunno, last couple Christmas parties I went to weren’t really…fun.” (y/n) said awkwardly. Tom cleared his throat, shifting his bookbag as he thought quickly.

“Slughorn’s parties can be dull, but I believe the right company can make anything entertaining.” Tom said smoothly, looking right at her and she felt like she was in some sort of fever dream-because if she didn’t know better, she’d say Tom was flirting with her.

But Tom Riddle didn’t flirt-at least not for real.

But, honestly, Tom wouldn’t be the worst to accompany to a party, perhaps he’d be able to sneak some good drinks while there-since he was Slughorn’s golden boy and all.

“Okay, I’ll go with you. Uh-should we match?” (y/n) asked, tilting her head and Tom nodded.

“Yes. Green, black, and silver; the Slytherin colors. I’ll escort you from the Slytherin common room-ten to.” Tom said, and then he walked off, looking like he was on a mission. (y/n) blinked at his back and licked her teeth, turning as Lucy exited the classroom-giggling about how she’d been asked to Slughorn’s Christmas party by Albertson.

“Tom just asked me to accompany him to it.” (y/n) said, apparently too casually from how Lucy’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“Tom Riddle just asked you out?! How are you not freaking out! Oh, my morgan! we have to get you a dress-c’mon let’s get the girls!” Lucy said rapidly, grabbing (y/n)’s hand and quickly dragging her down the hall-finding her friends and they all freaked out like Lucy did.

“I don’t get why this is such a big deal?” (y/n) said after a while after she’d been pulled into the girl’s dorm, sitting in front of Lucy’s vanity as Juila put different sets of earrings into her ears to match the dresses Bella and Lucy were pulling from Alice’s wardrobe since she and (y/n) were the same size.

“Are you joking? It’s Tom. Riddle. He never asks ANYONE out! Never! Especially to a Slug club party, much less the Christmas party!” Lucy exclaimed, pulling one of the several green dresses from Alice’s wardrobe, some of them in the current muggle fashion of the 1940s, the rest being witch dress robes-all of course the ‘modern’ fashion for young witches.

“To be clear, he asked me to accompany him to the party, not to go with him as a date.” (y/n) said with a sigh, closing her eyes as Iridessa began doing her makeup to see what look would suit her best.

“Oh, come on (y/n), that’s so Tom Riddle talk for ‘please please please go out with me-I’m so in love with you it hurts and if you reject me I couldn’t bare it~!” Lucy acted dramatically, hand on her head and chest and everything, flopping dramatically back onto the nearest bed as (y/n) snorted, the other girls all laughing.

“yeah, I don’t think he was thinking that,” (y/n) chuckled, shaking her head, staying still as Iridessa began to style her hair, putting in hairpins and décor to match which every dress was pulled from Alice’s wardrobe, Lucy and Bella holding them up to (y/n) for her to pick, but none of them really caught (y/n)’s eye. “I don’t think we have to do all this now, the party isn’t for another week and a half, holiday break doesn’t start till next week too.” (y/n) said and Lucy huffed, she and Bella hung the dresses back up-none of them really hit the mark for the Christmas party with Tom anyway.

“(y/n), seriously. Tom Riddle has never shown interest in anyone. Ever. Not for real, but here he is-asking you to ‘accompany him’ to Slughorn’s Christmas party. Slughorn has been gunning for Tom to be with a girl-he hounds him every time he’s seen slightly near anyone of the opposite sex-I mean, why do you think you’ve been partnered together for the last few potion assignments?” Lucy said, putting her hands on her hips. (y/n) rose her brow.

“Because I’m competent and Tom and I work well together, regardless of the rivalry we had for the last two months?” (y/n) said and Lucy huffed, shaking her head.

“No! Because Slughorn’s trying to set you and Tom up! Slughorn loves doing that, I mean-I’m not kidding- it's how my cousin got with her husband because Slughorn kept putting them together for partnered potions.” (y/n) sighed, lifting her hands in surrender.

“Okay okay, I can believe that, it’s…Slughorn, but still! That doesn’t mean Tom likes me, I mean it’s…Tom.” (y/n) said, though now she really wasn’t believing her own argument. Her friends all sighed, glancing at each other.

“Whatever you say (y/n).” Alice chuckled, Iridessa wiping her face free of makeup again. “Whatever you say.” (y/n) rolled her eyes fondly at her friends, even if they could be pushy about the Tom thing, she was glad they were her friends.

“Yeah, yeah-shopping time!” Lucy cheered-grabbing the witch weekly magazine from her pile on her bedside desk-it had been delivered by owl only the day before-so it was the most recent issue with all the recently released dress robes for witches.

(y/n) was crowded by her friends after moving to one of the beds, Lucy laying between her legs with her elbows on (y/n)’s knees, flipping through the pages as the others all crowded around-pointing at all the articles and pictures in the issue.

“Oh! That one! That one would look so good on you (y/n)!” Iridessa said with a gasp, pointing at the dress that was featured on the page. It was a very gorgeous emerald dress robe. There were technically two necklines-one was on the neck which was made of sheer shimmering fabric that went down into flowing sleeves that bunched at the wrists, the 2nd neckline was straight across at the upper chest, with a corset style bodice and a flowing soft tulle skirt with a silver décor separating the hem of the bodice and skirt.

“It would,” (y/n) agreed with Iridessa, taking the magazine to look at the dress closer. It looked amazing-but-wow, expensive. “But I can’t afford it, I barely get a pound of galleons from the school fund for school supplies-how in the hell could I afford this dress?” (y/n) sighed, handing the magazine back to Lucy, she and Alice looked at the price and smiled at each other.

That weekend, the girls went out to Hogsmeade like they did every weekend, going Christmas shopping and-eventually-(y/n) was tugged into the dress shop by Alice and Lucy, her eyes widening as she spotted the dress on display, the girls already asking for one in (y/n)’s size. “Guys-no-c’mon-you don’t have to,” (y/n) tried to decline their far too generous offer but Alice nor Lucy would take no for an answer; Iridessa and Bella pushed (y/n) into a changing room with the dress and Julia handed her some cute black heels.

(y/n) sighed, looking at the dress, it was very gorgeous, that was true-but it was so expensive, and such a high fashion dress-she felt like she would look out of place in it.

She sighed again, undressing from her winter coat and clothes to put the dress and heels on, pulling back the curtain to show it to her friends-who all gasped and squealed.

“Oh, my, merlin! (y/n)!!! you look so good!” Lucy gasped, jumping on her toes, Alice clapping excitedly as Bella’s jaw dropped, Iridessa and Julia fake fainting from the sheer beauty of (y/n).

(y/n) blushed, doing a little twirl as Lucy gestured for it, the girls squealing again. (y/n) looked into the mirror, moving the skirt around and making sure the sleeves fit right. It did look really good on her, she had to admit.

She let Lucy and Alice buy the dress for her-but she did try to stop Julia from buying her jewelry and the shoes-but Iridessa and Bella held her back from stopping her, (y/n) sighing as she accepted her fate of being her friend’s sugar baby.

“You guys are the best, I wish I could pay it back.” (y/n) mumbled, her cheeks flushed as her friends giggled, Lucy kissing her cheek.

“Don’t worry about it (y/n), just give us all the details after your date with Tom and we’ll call it even.” Lucy said and (y/n) sighed, refraining from saying it wasn’t a date.

-

Holiday break started only a few days later and Christmas was the upcoming Friday. (y/n) had always loved Christmas at Hogwarts, at least before it stopped being celebrated once the death eaters took over, but now she could enjoy it again-admiring all the décor and grandeur Hogwarts and its professors could offer.

Soon-it was the night of Slughorn’s Christmas party, December 20th, the Sunday before Christmas day. (y/n) got ready in her friend's dorm, letting them doll her up and everything. Lucy was getting ready herself, also having a date to the party, while after Iridessa got ready-she did (y/n)’s hair and makeup while (y/n) waited to put on her necklace and earrings, not wanting to mess Iridessa’s work up.

“Wow,” (y/n) muttered to herself, looking at the soft yet elegant makeup and hair style Iridessa had chosen for her. She looked like a storybook princess or something. “I look…”

“Beautiful,” Iridessa said, holding (y/n)’s shoulders as she smiled at her in the mirror. “Riddle won’t know what hit him, I bet he’ll be on his knees by the end of the night.” Iridessa teased, Alice gasping at her double meaning.

“Dessa!” Alice laughed as Iridessa chuckled, waving her fake scolding off.

“Oh, shush were all thinking it,” Iridessa laughed, helping (y/n) to her feet, (y/n) walking to the nearest full body mirror. She looked…for a lack of better word, amazing. The skirt ended at her ankles, allowing for her black heels to be shown along with the silver snake anklet she wore to compliment the silver accent that was around the waist of her dress.

She smiled at herself, turning to grab the clutch bag that Lucy had paired with the dress and she was the first to leave the dorm room-heading down the curving hallway to head back to the main common room, her free hand gently trailing on the metal rail. She entered the sitting room of the common room that was connected to the 1st-6th year dorm rooms, seeing Tom on the other side of the room outside the boy’s dorms.

She stepped into the light and Tom’s eyes locked onto her-ever so slightly widening. He seemed frozen for a moment, his lips parting as she stepped closer to him. It took until she was only a few feet away from him for him to snap out of his stupor, looking at her with his usual expression.

“Well, I believe there will be no competition for best dressed.” Tom said with a smirk, holding out his arm to her like a gentleman would. (y/n) felt her cheeks flush and she rolled her eyes, taking his elbow.

“Alice and Lucy insisted I wear it,” (y/n) said, walking with him through the common room, catching many the eye of Slytherins who had stayed for Christmas, and up the curving stairs to exit. Tom hummed, glancing at her appreciatively again. He was wearing a handsome black dress robe with green accents, complimented with silver rings-probably borrowed from his friends since she’d never seen him wear rings before.

“They have a good eye; I assume you’re keeping that dress?” Tom asked, and (y/n) nodded, she hoped she’d get her friend's money’s worth out of this dress, it was too beautiful not to wear multiple times. “Good. It suits you.” Tom said and (y/n) glanced at him out of the corner of her eye-wondering where this… soft-spoken Tom had come from.

They traveled through Hogwarts till they reached the room where Slughorn was hosting his party in-his actual room being far too small to host a full-fledged Christmas party.

Tom and (y/n) entered, Tom now holding her hand as they opened the door, it was a bit tacky-Slughorn’s taste meshed with Christmas décor. There were plenty of guests already, a mesh of Hogwarts students and adults-who were most likely a part of the Slugclub once upon a time.

“Ah-Tom, my boy!” Tom closed his eyes for a moment before turning to Slughorn with a charming smile.

“Professor Slughorn,” Tom greeted, tensing up only slightly as Slughorn pulled Tom forward for a weird hug, making (y/n) snicker-her hand still being held by Tom which he was squeezing tightly-probably to ground himself.

“Glad you see you make it my boy.” Slughorn said with a beaming grin, his round face already flushed red from champagne. He turned to (y/n), his smile widening. “And I see Ms. (l/n) is accompanying you?”

(y/n) nodded, Tom stepping back next to her, still holding her hand. “Yes sir,” Tom said, and (y/n) thought she could hear…pride in his voice? She gave him a side glance but couldn’t think on it longer because Slughorn was ushering them on either side of him so he could take a picture with them both.

“Perfect, now-go on-enjoy-I’ll be around.” Slughorn said, waving his hands in a general direction before he went to greet more guests as they arrived. (y/n) took a breath, smoothing out her skirt-feeling Tom’s hand wrap around hers again as he guided her towards a server with drinks, taking one for each of them.

“Thanks,” (y/n) murmured, taking a sip of the champagne, looking around the party. She recognized some fellow students, but hardly anyone else other than the professors who had most likely only come out of politeness to Slughorn.

(y/n) looked around again, but found nothing particularly interesting, much like the Slughorn party she’d gone to in her 5th year in her original time.

Tom seemed to share the sentiment that the party was lackluster, his dark eyes gleaming boredly as he looked over the crowd. Barely anything was happening, there were some conversations here and there, some high-class guests were being schmoozed by some opportunistic students and Slughorn, and students-who hadn’t made the Slugclub invite-were acting as waiters, holding trays of horderves and drinks.

Tom sighed softly, sipping at his champagne before setting the glass aside on the window sill behind him, looking over at (y/n), once again admiring the way she’d been dolled up for the party-most likely by her friends since before now, he’d never seen her wear makeup before, or seen her with her hair styled.

He knew (y/n) was what some called a ‘Tomboy’, a girl who acted more like a boy than a girl, but that didn’t take away from her natural beauty and charm. Tom had to admit, even back when they were at each other's throats, he thought she was pretty. The fact that she was able to keep up with him academically-and then surpass him-only made her more attractive.

His gaze turned back to the party as someone turned a gramophone on, soft Christmas music playing through the crowd, encouraging many to begin dancing as it-really was the only thing to do. Tom turned to (y/n), holding out his hand to her as she watched the other guests begin to slow dance. She glanced at him, her brow raising as Tom smirked.

“Shall we?” Tom murmurs, and (y/n) huffs, holding back a smile as she takes his hand, setting down her drink as he leads her out to the dance floor-Slughorn smiling as he watches his two top students begin to dance, Tom’s hand on her waist while she rests her hand on his shoulder.

“Boring so far, isn’t it?” Tom murmured halfway through a song and (y/n) huffed, nodding. “I suppose I’ll have to admit to you, that you were right.” Tom said with a soft chuckle that had (y/n) smirking.

“Right about what?” (y/n) inquired and Tom tilted his head down at her, his eyes gleaming under the slowly moving lights that illuminated the dance floor.

“About Christmas parties not being fun,” Tom chuckled, slowly turning them to follow the music, (y/n) snorted to herself, letting him lead her in the dance.

“Then I guess I’ll have to admit that you were right too,” (y/n) mumbled, Tom tilting his head at her curiously. “That the right company can make anything entertaining.” (y/n) said and Tom smirked, though it seemed more like a bashful smile that he attempted to hide as they continued to dance.

Slughorn attempted to have some games be played but by the time that was happening, many guests had left and Tom and (y/n) were quite bored. “Have a good evening professor, we’ll be turning in.” Tom told Slughorn, who was quite drunk by now, and bid Tom and (y/n) goodnight before bumbling off somewhere else as Tom took (y/n)’s waist to lead her from the party.

It was quiet between the two of them as they walked the corridors back to the Slytherin dorm. They hadn’t spent much time at the party, maybe only two hours, no more than two and a half, and the night was still early since the party started around 6 pm. “I apologize for the lack luster night,” Tom said as they passed by the kitchens, which was quiet now that the house elves had retired for the night.

“Oh, it was fine, not exciting, but fine.” (y/n) said with a shrug, not minding that the party wasn’t some adrenaline pumping bash, besides-somethings had to be boring once in a while to find excitement in other things.

“Will you be staying at Hogwarts for the holiday?” Tom asked next, his eyes locked straight ahead, hiding the twitch of his finger as nerves bubbled in his throat.

“I will be, I don’t exactly have anywhere to go for Christmas.” (y/n) murmured and that made Tom pause, looking at her with a curious gleam in his dark eyes.

“Are you an orphan (y/n)?” Tom asked, his voice softer than it had ever been and (y/n) pursed her lips, unsure of how to answer that. She wasn’t, not really, but she wasn’t in her time anymore and her parents had yet to be even born-her grandfather currently her age.

“In a way yes,” (y/n) murmured, playing with the clasp of her clutch. “My parents aren’t exactly available, even if I wanted to contact them, and I have no other family around I can reach, so in a way I’m an orphan.” (y/n) said softly, unsure if she explained her thought process correctly.

Tom hummed again, walking next to her with his hands behind his back, his gaze locked onto her in deep thought. “So, you have no one to spend Christmas with, correct?” Tom asked and (y/n) gave a slow nod, as she didn’t think any of her friends were staying for the holiday. “…we could…spend it together, as most of the Slytherins are going home for Christmas, I wouldn’t mind the company.”

(y/n) blinked, not expecting the invitation to spend Christmas with him…alone. “Do you not have anyone to spend Christmas with?” (y/n) asked and Tom nodded, looking to the side, his eyes catching onto the painting of a wizarding family.

“I am an orphan as well, my mother died giving birth to me. My father…is a muggle who has no clue I exist.” Tom said quietly, (y/n) knowing this was very…momentous information Tom was telling her. Perhaps information he’d never told anyone else before. She stepped closer to him, this time, she took his hand-squeezing gently.

“I suppose I wouldn’t mind the company either,” (y/n) said softly and Tom looked at her, a quirk at the corner of his lips.

-

The next day holiday break officially started, with Christmas in only 4 days. Her friends all bid her a happy Christmas and that their gifts would be under the common room tree Christmas morning. “But you’ve guys have already bought me so many things! How can you even think of anything else?” (y/n) laughed, being squeezed by Lucy as the girls prepared to board the Hogwarts express to head back to London for Christmas.

“Because we love you and one can never have enough stuff.” Iridessa said, pinching (y/n)’s cheek and she snorted, smacking her hand away, waving to her friends as they got on the train. “Have a good Christmas (y/n)!”

“Have fun with Tom~!” Alice teased, the girls settling back into their seats as the train moved away from Hogwarts, heading back to Kings Cross Station. (y/n) playfully rolled her eyes, heading back to the school on the carriages and getting back into the castle as quickly as she could, since it was freezing cold outside with a fresh sheet of snow drifting from the sky.

There were younger students, first through third years, all in the courtyards-of all houses-playing in the snow, making forts and throwing snowballs at each other, two little Ravenclaws making snow angles by the tree.

(y/n) stepped into the warmth of the corridors of Hogwarts, heading down towards the Slytherin common room. Christmas was in only four days, and she was going to be spending it with Tom Riddle, a thought that was almost daunting as the day approached.

Should she try to get him a gift? She didn’t know if she had time or even money to do so, with no Hogsmeade trips planned until the weekend. Perhaps she could convince one of the remaining professors to take her.

What would Tom even want for Christmas? He did seem to like material things-from what she noticed. He had a nice quill-probably a Christmas present from past years, and his eyes seemed particularly fixated on shiny things when they were in view, like a fancy pocket watch or a shiny signet ring.

She couldn’t afford things like that, but perhaps she could find something-with only four days to Christmas.

Then again. With what money? She was broke. She sighed, heading up to her dorm room-blinking when she saw a small brown leather bag on her bed, she walked over to it and picked it up-it was heavy. She opened it, jaw dropping. Money. A note accompanied the galleons, knuts, and sickles, it was from Alice.

‘Happy Christmas (y/n)! Don’t go spending it all in one place! Or on one person!’ the note said and (y/n) sighed with a chuckle. How lovely were her friends? She set the note on her bedside table and pocketed the leather bag into her winter coat, heading back out to find a professor that would be willing to take her to Hogsmeade to get a last-minute gift.

Perhaps Slughorn would be easy to convince-considering who her gift was for.

-

Slughorn had happily taken her down to Hogsmeade, which was always so pretty at this time of year-everything, from the streetlamps to the doorways were all decorated for Christmas.

(y/n) wandered from store to store, looking for a gift for Tom. She didn’t want to get something too extravagant, that would be too weird, but she didn’t want to get something basic-that would be too…insensitive??

Oh, she didn’t know, but she needed to get something that would be worthy of a Christmas gift of two…acquaintances??? Rivals that were also friends now?? She didn’t even know what their relationship was now, but for the last few weeks-ever since the fountain incident, Tom had been…nice.

She sighed, rubbing her face. Think think think, there had to be something good to get Tom. She ventured into a magical antiques store, it almost seemed like a muggle thrift store with how everything was set up in sections.

She wandered the store, going through every aisle and section, making sure to look at everything to make sure she didn’t pass up something perfect.

“Are you looking for anything in particular deary?” the old shop keep asked, she was an old witch; probably in her 100s, with a kind grandma-type demeanor.

(y/n) shrugged a bit, messing with the scarf around her neck. “Not really sure, late Christmas shopping. He’s a fan of antiques I think, I don’t know him super well but we’re spending Christmas together.” (y/n) said and the shopkeeper nodded, pointing towards the back.

“There will be some more valuable antiques in the back, perhaps you may find something appropriate there.” The old witch said and (y/n) thanked her, heading towards the back in hopes of finding a gift for Tom.

There were necklaces, rings, vases, books, knives, quills, glass ink pens, all sorts of things. But (y/n)’s eyes landed on a small box that looked like a treasure chest. It was beautiful, with a curled snake as its latch and more snakes lining the rim and hinges, and a snakeskin pattern carved into the wood.

(y/n) smiled, picking up the small chest and bringing it to the front to buy it.

“10 galleons,” the shop keep said and (y/n) nodded, handing over the galleons and the shopkeeper put the chest into a large brown bag wrapped in brown paper and (y/n) took it, going to find Slughorn, who had spent his time at the three broomsticks, and he accompanied her back to Hogwarts.

(y/n) knew her friends had some wrapping paper in their dorm room so she went in there, knowing they wouldn’t mind, and grabbed Iridessa’s wrapping paper and ribbon from under her bed, borrowing Alice’s scissors and Bella’s Sellotape, getting to work on wrapping the chest.

It was a bit of a bitch to wrap a chest, but she didn’t want to try and find a box to put it in nor did she just want to leave it in the bag, but eventually she got the box wrapped, tied with a ribbon, and tagged-ready for Christmas morning.

(y/n) smiled to herself, proud of what she got for Tom and left the gift in her room for the house elves to take on Christmas eve night to put in the common room under the tree.

-

Christmas Eve was fun, the professors had a party in the great hall for all the remaining students-and it included games and a whole feast(which wasn’t new, considering there was a feast for every meal of the day). The younger students loaded up on sugar, laughing joyfully as they pulled poppers apart and wore the little paper crowns that came with them, eating pudding and looking for the coin in each bite they took-Dumbledore ended up finding the coin at the teacher's table, while a young Weasley Gryffindor found the coin at the house tables.

(y/n) greatly enjoyed herself too, happily watching the younger years have fun on Christmas Eve, playing games and eating sugar to their heart's content. She sipped at some warm cider as she sat at one of the tables, wearing a green paper crown and a plate of mostly eaten Christmas pudding in front of her.

“Better than Slughorn’s party,” Tom commented as he sat next to her, also holding a mug of cider. He was also wearing a paper crown, red in color-which she thought was funny-but his was probably forced onto him by Slughorn, the professor insisting on Tom showing some Christmas spirit.

“It is,” (y/n) chuckled, finishing off her pudding and pushing the plate away-the plate disappearing a moment later, thanks to house-elf magic. “Thankfully we won’t have to deal with their sugar crashes, eh?” (y/n) joked, nodding towards the 1st and 2nd years that were eating sugared plums and apples to their hearts content.

Tom snorted, hiding his smile behind his mug of cider. “Thankful indeed,” he mumbled, raising his brows as the professors, the tipsy ones, began to sing carols while Dumbledore turned up the volume on the gramophone, directing the professors with his wand, (y/n) giggling from beside him as Tom watched, almost bewildered.

He'd never actually attended the Hogwarts Christmas Eve party, not since first year, so seeing his professors act like this was quite a shock. Well, minus Slughorn.

The party went on for a little while longer before all the students were sent up to bed, the younger students who still believed in Father Christmas nearly running over each other to get to bed before Father Christmas arrived at the castle.

“I remember believing in that,” (y/n) said softly, setting down her empty mug and standing up. Tom humming a bit. “Did you ever believe in Father Christmas?” (y/n) asks and Tom shook his head, standing with her.

“Never had a reason to,” Tom said and (y/n) hummed, tilting her head, but unsure how to respond to that-so she didn’t. They walked back together to the Slytherin common room. It was nearly empty-as most of the Slytherin students had gone home for Christmas, maybe only her, Tom, and three others had stayed for the holidays, and those three were already up in their dorms.

“Night Tom, sleep well.” (y/n) said and Tom nodded, returning her words, watching her disappear down the girl's dorm corridor, before turning to head down the corridor towards his dorm.

-

Christmas morning felt like a childhood Christmas morning. Presents appearing under the three-courtesy of the house elves, warm treats on the coffee table in front of the fire, stockings full of treats and small gifts, and soft music playing from somewhere as (y/n) quietly walked into the main part the Slytherin common, tying her warm robe tightly around her waist, her slippers soft against her feet as she walked towards the fireplace.

It was early, barely 630 am, but early Christmas mornings were the best thing.

(y/n) settled down on one of the loveseats near the fireplace, taking one of the mugs of hot coco that the elves had set out and letting it warm her up, the liquid filling her chest with warmth as she sipped at it, the light of the fire and the Christmas tree gently illuminating the space.

Eventually, the few younger Slytherins who had stayed for Christmas came rushing in, eagerly opening their stockings and presents, and were out by the time Tom came wandering it, wearing his own warm robe, but he wasn’t wearing slippers-just his bare feet padding against the floor as he made his way into the main common room where (y/n) was.

“Happy Christmas,” (y/n) said quietly as not to break the comfortable quiet that had settled in the common room once the younger Slytherins had left to go get dressed and play with their new Christmas gifts.

“Mmm, morning,” Tom mumbled, sitting down on the couch, grabbing a mug of still steaming tea from the coffee table, (y/n) noticing he put quite a bit of sugar and cream in it, (y/n) didn’t mention it, sipping at her hot coco.

Tom settled back into the couch, eyes on the fireplace. He seemed tired still-it reminded her of how her parents would be Christmas morning, when she and her siblings got up way too early for Christmas and her parents would be exhausted from wrapping gifts only a few hours before.

(y/n) decided to take the initiative, getting up from the love seat to grab the still full stockings, the younger Slytherins had already grabbed theirs, but there were still two stockings left-and she handed one to Tom-who seemed surprised.

“I got a stocking?” Tom asked, his brows pinched together as he held the black and green stripped stocking in his hands-it was bulging, he could feel the small treats and gifts within the fabric. (y/n) shrugged, not commenting on the fact that he was surprised he got a stocking.

The two opened their stockings, (y/n) got the usual stocking stuffers she got almost every year-but just a 1940s version of them. Hair ties, a tooth brush, candy canes, chocolates, wand polish, and many other small items suited for a stocking gift.

She looked up, seeing Tom had poured out his stocking onto the couch beside him. She saw chocolates, candy canes, wand polish, a glass pen, a small carving knife, hair gel, a toothbrush, and a small wooden snake that was bendable.

Tom stared at his stocking gifts for a moment, picking up the small wooden snake and moving it between his fingers, fixated on the small toy.

(y/n) got up, grabbing for the first present under the tree. She frowned lightly, noticing the only gift for Tom was from her, so she picked it up and handed it to him. “Happy Christmas Tom,” she said softly, feeling her heart ache just a bit by the way Tom looked at the gift-as if it was the very first time he’d gotten a Christmas gift.

“For me?” Tom asked her, his brows pinched in what seemed like confusion. (y/n) nodded, and Tom took the wrapped gift from her gently, setting it in his lap with a look of confusion, shock, and a bit of awe.

(y/n) grabbed one of her gifts from her friends, the tag saying it was from lucy, sitting back down on the loveseat, undoing the ribbon as Tom quietly opened his gift from her. He gently set the ribbon at his side, and then began to open the wrapping paper-almost trying not to rip it as he turned the gift over in his hands.

He took off the wrapping paper, holding the small chest in his hands, admiring the snake carvings that lined the curves of the chest. His thumb smoothed over the metal snake latch, glancing back at (y/n) as she opened her gift from Alice-a pair of heeled boots; sturdy and fashionable.

“Thank you,” Tom murmured under his breath, and (y/n) turned to smile at him, Tom’s heart feeling as if it was beating out of his chest at the sight of it. He held the chest tightly through the rest of the morning, watching (y/n) open her gifts from her friends-feeling bad he hadn’t gotten her anything.

He wasn’t used to feeling bad for not doing something-unless it was schoolwork.

“I didn’t get you anything, I apologize,” Tom said as (y/n) began to throw out wrapping paper, and she shook her head with a smile.

“I don’t mind, besides-I got plenty of gifts from the girls, one less gift doesn’t disappoint me. I don’t think you expected me to get you a gift anyway, so I wasn’t expecting one in return.” (y/n) said, rambling a bit as she trashed the wrapping paper and sorted her gifts into a pile, smiling back at Tom-which made his ears turn hot.

Reactions like this, for Tom, had been happening for a bit-feeling things he never felt before. Nervous, sometimes anxious, even flustered-all because of her. He’d never really show it, of course not-he was still a very controlled person and hated having his emotions show.

But right now, he was sure he looked like a unicorn in headlights.

-

After Christmas breakfast in the great hall, with all the professors drinking Christmas punch and wearing funny hats, (y/n) finds a new gift under the tree after getting back to the common room. It’s addressed to her and as she picks it up-she feels the magic interwoven into every part of the wrapping-including the ribbon.

She looks at the tag, it’s from Tom, and she smiles, sitting down by the tree and opening the gift gently. It was a simple black box, and when she opened it, she found a silver snake bracelet inside, with small protection runes carved into the metal on the inside. The metal was interwoven with magic-it was a transfigured gift-not rushed but quickly made with perfection since it was such a last-minute gift.

(y/n) smiled, slipping the snake bracelet onto her left wrist and it magically tightened to fit snugly, and then easily became loose when she went to take it off just to see if she could.

She smiled warmly, getting up from the floor and cleaning up the wrapping paper and ribbon, admiring her new bracelet as she headed back to her dorm.

-

“Thank you for the bracelet, it’s lovely.” (y/n) said to Tom as she passed by him in the common room, Tom coming in from the library while (y/n) was heading out to go to the Christmas dinner feast. Tom blinked at her and nodded.

“Of course, I’m glad you like it.” Tom said calmly, giving her a small smile in return as (y/n) beamed at him. Something from above caught her attention and Tom looked up as well-the two freezing as mistletoe began to appear. “House elves.” Tom murmured under his breath, preparing to step back to not make anything awkward but he felt a warmth on his cheek-his ears heating up as (y/n) stepped away from him, still smiling, her cheeks warm.

“Happy Christmas Tom,” she said softly, turning on her heel and heading out the common room door to go to Christmas dinner.

“…Happy Christmas (y/n),” Tom murmured after a few solid moments of him standing completely still in shock, his breath still caught in his chest, books held in his arms.

He just got kissed on the cheek…

-

“That’s so pretty (y/n)!” Julia gasps the night everyone came back to Hogwarts after break ended, just about a week after Christmas day. (y/n) smiled, looking down at the silver snake bracelet on her wrist.

“Thank you, Tom gave it to me,” (y/n) said and her friends’ jaw’s dropped, their eyes wide. “Always the look of surprise when I mention Tom doing something nice.” (y/n) joked, chuckling a bit as Lucy scoots as close as she can-her friends asking for every little detail about anything that happened between her and Tom during Christmas break.

“Not much, we had a nice quiet Christmas morning together, I gave him his gift-he said he was sorry he didn’t have one for me, and then after I came back to the common room after breakfast there was a gift for me under the tree from him. It was a last-minute thing girls, probably a pen or a ring he had transfigured to make it the bracelet. It’s a sweet gift nonetheless I will admit.” (y/n) said, pushing Lucy’s face away from her gently as Lucy squealed in her ear.

(y/n) then remembers the mistletoe. “Oh yeah, I kissed his cheek.” (y/n) says offhandedly and Lucy nearly squeals her ear off. “Ow!”

“Sorry-oh my merlin you kissed his cheek?! How-why? When-how did he react?” Lucy gasped, the other girls leaning in to devour each word (y/n) was about to say, but she only lifted her hands in surrender.

“It was just a kiss on the cheek! There was mistletoe-I think he was even going to step away to not make it awkward but I went for it because-you know, bad luck n stuff.” (y/n) said in her and Tom’s defense so her friends didn’t go ballistic and Lucy groaned, shaking (y/n)’s shoulders.

“(yyyy/nnn) c’moooon! There's so much tension between you two it’s gonna make me pop!” Lucy dramatically said and (y/n) snorted, rolling her eyes.

“What tension?” (y/n) asked and her friends just looked at each other and back at (y/n) with clear expressions of ‘seriously??’ (y/n) shrugged, sighing softly. “There's nothing going on between Tom and I girls, seriously. Just a few weeks ago we were at each other’s throats and now that we’re not you all think there's something there?”

Lucy snorted and Bella smirked. “C’mon (y/n), you know rivalries are just crushes you’re mad about having.” Bella laughed and (y/n) rolled her eyes again.

“He started it to be fair, and no-I don’t have a crush on him. He’s pleasant now but at most-he’s an acquaintance.” (y/n) said firmly and Alice giggled lightly.

“Whatever you say (y/n), but he’s the one who asked you to Slughorn’s party and asked you to have Christmas with him, and he never asks anyone to hang out with him-not even his friends. He prefers being alone.” Alice said and (y/n), again, rolled her eyes.

“Fine fine. Whatever, it doesn’t mean anything’s going to happen.” (y/n) sighed and her friends laughed, but left the topic alone, for now.

-

January had come and gone and soon it was February, and Valentine’s décor was popping up all over the place. It was much better than the way that one professor-Lockhart she thinks his name was; the DADA professor from her first year-did decorations at the castle. Back then everything was puke pink and hearts everywhere with those dwarfs running around giving sung Valentine’s to everyone.

But the way the professors did it in this era-was nice. The great hall was enchanted to have snow falling from the ceiling with the ceiling looking like a perfect pink sunset sky and there were floating hearts on the window tops. But otherwise Hogwarts was normal, minus all the guys running around as Valentine's day drew closer.

(y/n) wandered through Hogsmeade, only a few days to valentine’s day, watching guys running around buying flowers and chocolates and cards for their girlfriends, or hopefully girlfriends. Her friends were with her, giggling at the way boys were shoving each other to get into honey dukes and trying to get reservations at Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop.

“Oh, I’d love to go there,” Iridessa sighs, the other girls humming in agreement as (y/n) fake gags, making them laugh. “(y/n)! you don’t like Madam Puddifoot's?” Iridessa asks and (y/n) shakes her head.

“Not my style,” (y/n) chuckles and Alice giggles in agreement, tugging at the winter trousers (y/n) was wearing.

“Can’t argue with you there (y/n), c’mon-let’s see if the boys will let us into Honeydukes,” Alice says, intertwining her arms with (y/n) and Bella as the group of friends walks towards the crowded candy shop.

-

It’s a week later, only the day before Valentine’s day and (y/n)’s friends are all in the library, studying for upcoming exams when (y/n) storms up to them, looking flushed in the face and nervous. “There you all are-I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” (y/n) gasps, quieting herself as the librarian shushes her.

“What’s wrong?” Bella asks quietly and (y/n) huffs, planting her hands on the table, her cheeks hot.

“Tom just-“ (y/n) takes a huffing breath, glancing back towards the doors of the library where she had just entered. “-just asked me out on a date.” She looks back at her friends and they’re all staring at her wide-eyed, as if they couldn’t believe her.

“No. way.” Lucy gasps, grabbing (y/n)’s hand to tug her down to sit. “How? When?” Lucy prods and (y/n) swallows, her whole face hot and it felt like her heart was in her throat.

“He just-walked up to me a few minutes ago-and-and asked me to go out with him-well he said ‘accompany him tomorrow’. But tomorrow’s Valentine’s day! Theres no way he didn’t mean what I thought he meant.” (y/n) stutters, her friends all scooting close to listen in.

“He definitely asked you out on a date.” Iridessa said, rubbing her hand on (y/n)’s back as she breathed heavily. “If he didn’t, then he’s oblivious as a mountain troll.” (y/n) snorted a bit, rubbing her face.

“What am I even going to wear, I don’t even know where he’s taking me.” (y/n) muttered and her friends gasped, realizing she’d said yes to Tom asking her out.

“I have-just the dress for you.” Alice squealed, taking (y/n)’s hands in her own to pull her up and drag her from the library, her other friends close behind.

-

What Alice had picked out for (y/n) for her date with Tom was an evening dress, very 1940’s, with long sleeves and the skirt went just below her knees and flared out just a bit-a good dancing dress as well, was what Alice said as (y/n) tried it on.

Now if (y/n) was in her own time again, the 90s, she would’ve worn pants or something, and a nice blouse, but it was the 1940s and there were expectations. And her friends wouldn’t take no for an answer. (y/n) sighed, flattening down the skirt, looking at herself in the mirror. She did look very pretty, with the light makeup Iridessa had put on her and the simple silver jewelry she wore, borrowed from Julia.

She spun the silver snake bracelet around her wrist and left her friends’ dorm room, giving them a smile as they all grinned back-Alice and Lucy giving her two thumbs up each.

(y/n) walked down the girls dorm corridor, entering the common room, seeing Tom waiting on the other side of the room, a jacket over his arm, dressed in dark trousers, a buttoned dark green cardigan, and a button up with a black tie; his hair styled as it usually was, though it looked just a bit messy-like he’d run his hand through it nervously.

He also had flowers, and a small box of chocolates.

He hears her approach and looks up, and she can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows-his gaze drawing up and down her figure and she fidgets with her bracelet as she steps in front of him.

 “You look-“ Tom murmurs, his gaze still examining her, his pupils growing larger against the darkness of his eyes. He clears his throat and hands her the flowers and chocolates, the tips of his ears pink. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” (y/n) murmured, taking the flowers, and admiring them. They…they were her favorite; she didn’t remember mentioning her favorite flowers to him? She’d told her friends a week back when they’d been talking about what flowers they’d like to get from a date.

Tom must’ve overheard, since they hadn’t been in private when discussing their favorite flowers.

The fact that he remembered what was possibly a second of overheard conversation made her chest feel warm and her cheeks flush. “I like the flowers, thank you.” (y/n) says, hugging the flowers and Tom’s lip quirks at the corner, it seems real and (y/n) smiles back.

She looks at the chocolates and notices they were all marshmallow caramels, her absolute favorite chocolates. “How did you find a box with only the Scotchmallows?” (y/n) asks Tom, since she herself had never been able to find a box with just that type of chocolate. Tom only smirked and (y/n) shook her head. He had his ways. “Thank you, I will be devouring these.” (y/n) said with a full grin, heading back into her dorm just to leave the flowers and chocolates there and then going back out to Tom, curling her arm around his as he offered it.

Before they left the castle Tom gave her his jacket that he’d been holding and then took her to the Hogsmeade carriages, opening the door for her and holding out his hand to help her inside. “Why thank you,” (y/n) chuckled and Tom smirked, climbing in after her and closing the door.

(y/n) watched the scenery go by as Hogsmeade came closer and she turned to Tom, jolting a bit as she met his eyes-he’d been staring at her. “Hi,” she murmured and Tom chuckled, deep and low and…real that it made her blush a bit.

“Hi,” Tom murmured, smirking, his head resting against his fist-his elbow against the ledge of the carriage window.

(y/n) sighed, pushing down the fluttering in her chest. “So, question,” she began, turning her knees towards Tom, her foot brushing against his-his leg crossed over his knee. His eyes flicked to her foot and then back up to her eyes, his tongue brushing against his bottom lip quickly. “Is this a…date?”

Tom’s eyes widened and he lifted his head from his fist for a moment, staring at her. “You…thought it wasn’t?” he asked, awkwardly-looking almost…scared now. “Are you not interested?” he nearly began to ramble if (y/n) didn’t put her hands over his mouth, silencing him in a way he’d never been before.

“No! I mean-yes, I am-I just…only a few months ago we were at each other’s throats and now you’ve asked me out on a date? I mean-it just feels…sudden to me I suppose.” (y/n) muttered awkwardly, pulling her hands away from Tom’s mouth as he raises his brow at her.

“…I assume this means you did not take us going to Slughorn’s party together as a date either, correct?” Tom drawls and (y/n) feels her cheeks grow hot.

“You meant that to be a date?” (y/n) murmurs and Tom lets out a low chuckle, nodding. “I’m so oblivious.” (y/n) groans, burying her face in her hands.

“I believe I wasn’t obvious enough, I apologize, but, I…did mean that, and this, to be date, if you’re willing.” Tom said, his hand brushing against hers and she pulls her face away from her palms, her cheeks flushed as she looks at him-his eyes were soft, though his expression was calm as ever.

(y/n) swallows, taking his hand.

“I’m willing,”

-

She heads back down the girl’s dorms corridor, her face flushed and she feels light on her feet as she heads to her room. Her friends are all waiting for her as she enters, Lucy putting the flowers in a vase while Bella and Iridessa were sitting on (y/n)’s bed with popcorn and fizzy drinks, Alice ready with makeup remover and a hairbrush.

“How’d it go?!” Alice was the first to speak, jumping up from her seat on the floor to rush over to (y/n), taking out hair pins and allowing (y/n) to scratch at her slightly sore scalp.

“It went…good, really good.” (y/n) said softly, her cheeks still hot. “He took me to that cozy restaurant just past honeydukes, I forgot the name-“ Lucy’s voice teasingly interrupted just then.

“So, he didn’t take you to madam Puddifoots?” Lucy cooed and (y/n) scrunched her nose in disgust, making her friends burst into laughter.

“No no, thank merlin-I think he has a habit of listening into my conversations because he didn’t even suggest it, just took me right to-uhm-oh! The Pheonix tear, it was really nice-not fancy, but cozy-like a slightly fancier version of the three broomsticks-they had this cheesy artichoke dip that was served in a bread bowl seriously it was so good I’d go back alone just for that,” (y/n) rambled and her friends laughed again, Alice wiping the makeup from (y/n)’s face.

“Back to the date (y/n),” Iridessa teased, handing her one of the chocolates Tom had gifted her earlier. (y/n) nodded, biting into the chocolate-humming at the taste of marshmallow and caramel.

“Okay okay, well-he was a gentleman, he pulled out my chair and everything and opened every door for me,” (y/n) said, beginning to tell her friends about her date with Tom, which was possibly to be the first of many with how well it had gone.

“So, what happened to him being a know-it-all prat?” Julia teased, resting her head on (y/n) shoulder and (y/n) rolled her eyes with a smile.

“Haha, he’s still a know it all, he’s just less of a prat.” (y/n) chuckled, standing up from her bed to take off her dress, changing into some comfy PJ’s and then settling back onto her bed as her friends surrounded her, ready to hear the rest of what happened on the date.

“A handsome prat~?” Lucy cooed and (y/n) shoved her face away, grabbing a handful of popcorn to toss it at her, making Lucy laugh. “Admit it! You think he’s attractive now!”

“Fine fine, I take back ‘he’s aesthetically pleasing’ comment, he is very pretty.” (y/n) dramatically admitted, giggling as Lucy flopped on top of her to shove her back onto her bed, her other friends all laughing as well.

“Go on (y/n)! what happened at the restaurant?” Iridessa asked as Bella opened a fizzy drink, handing it to (y/n).

“Okay okay, so,” (y/n)’s friends huddled close as she began to tell them how the date went, from when Tom had met her just outside the dorms to when he had kissed her hand dropping her back off only a few minutes ago.

-

He waits for her the next morning, standing at the doorway of the girl’s dorms corridor and (y/n) can’t help her shy smile, brushing her fingers through her hair, making sure her scar is covered. “Good morning,” (y/n) said softly at Tom smiles at her, a warm look she didn’t know he was capable of.

“Good morning, (y/n).” Tom said softly in return, offering his arm and she takes it, looking over her shoulder at her friends who all give her big grins and thumbs up as Tom walks her out of the common room and to the great hall, and she can see him smugly grinning to himself as many stare at the new couple.

Tom makes her sit with him at the table, his friends looking at her with barely hidden…relief? “Finally!” Nott groans, his head hitting the table as the rest bury their faces in their hands or look up to the ceiling as if to thank god.

“Finally?” (y/n) questions Tom, smirking when she saw him look away from her, his ears turning red. “I see I’ve been a discussion in this group.” (y/n) chuckles, resting her elbows on the table as Nott nods, Lestrange groans.

“Non-stop really, I swear-“ Lestrange seemed about to go on a rant about how much Tom talked about her but a swift glare and a toss of a grape right at Lestrange’s forehead quiets him, but not without a snicker from (y/n).

“Cute.” (y/n) murmurs, smirking at Tom as he seems to sink into his seat, his fist hiding his pout. She taps his thigh and his dark eyes flicker to her, she smiles at him.

And he smiles back.

-

Dating a highly respected prefects comes with its perks, Tom takes her on his patrols through Hogwarts, usually sneaking her into the library and he shows her the restricted section books-books she had only glanced at in all her years at Hogwarts, even after death eaters invaded the school.

Their first kiss is in the restricted section, hiding from the caretaker. Tom pulls her below the table edges of the bookshelves, his long legs stretched out to the other side-feet just barely against the other bookcase.

“Your spider ass legs are gonna get us caught,” (y/n) whispered to him, snickering and he covers her mouth with his cold hand, making her narrow her eyes at him as he shushes her gently.

“We won't if you stop talking.” Tom whispers back, looking over his shoulder to see Mr. Canker-the caretaker of this era-just about to walk by with his lamp, his old grouchy face illuminated by the oil lamp.

(y/n) huffs, smirking. “But where’s the fun in that?” (y/n) whispers back and then Tom looks at her, his eyes narrowed and his jaw clicked. His legs hunch in towards them and her hands land on his knees, guiding his legs around her so they can fit together under the table edge.

(y/n) snickers as Mr. Canker passes by and then Tom’s lips are on hers, silencing her as she breathes in the scent of his cologne, hair gel, and toothpaste-her eyes fluttering shut as his soft lips move against hers.

His knees brush against her sides as his hands hold her face-cupping her jaw gently, fingers just barely in her hair. He pulls away-breathing quickly-she follows him, nearly landing on top of him as her lips chase his.

She likes kissing Tom, he tastes cold and feels warm, his touch lights her skin on fire and makes her feel like she’s taken an ice bath at the same time.

It’s intoxicating.

He feels the same way about her, their lips pressing together like teenagers on firewhiskey-which they are teenagers, but they aren’t drunk, this is something that’s conscious, feverish, real.

His tongue goes against her lip and she lets him in, letting out a soft sound as his tongue invades her mouth-pushing against her tongue and she pushes back, finding herself completely on top of him under the table edge of the bookcase as his thigh slots between hers, bumping her up higher as his hands find her waist.

Her head hits the leg of the table and she bursts into giggles, breaking the kiss and flopping sideways as Tom’s hands grab her tightly, his head snapping up to glare at the table leg that hid them from view. “Shush,” he tells her, his hand covering her mouth as she giggles, tears in her eyes as the top of her head aches momentarily. “(y/n) quiet,” he tells her, though she can hear the amusement in his voice.

He sighs as she continues to giggle and grabs his wand. “Silencio.” Tom commands, his wand pointed at her and she goes silent, still giggling. He tugs her up onto his chest again, legs on either side of his hips and scoots them out from under the bookcase table. He glances around for Mr. Canker and when he finds it clear-tugs her up and out of the restricted section, booking it out of the library without a moment to lose and back to the Slytherin common room.

As soon as they’re inside he lifts the charm and (y/n)’s laughter fills the room and Tom’s senses, and he shakes his head. “Remind me to never make out with you in small spaces,” Tom huffs, leading her over to one of the couches, the fire still roaring, sitting her In his lap.

“So there’s plans to make out with me again eh?” (y/n) teases and Tom rolls his eyes, his head falling back onto the couch, leaving the perfect opportunity for (y/n) to kiss his jaw. Tom lets out a huff, his hands gripping her waist as he pulls her up and closer to him. “Cheeky.” He mutters, their lips connecting again, softer this time-as if to savor the kiss.

The clock chimes from the corner of the room and they pull apart, Tom huffing quietly as he looks at the clock. 2am. “I’m going to bed,” (y/n) says with a yawn and Tom grips her hips for a moment before allowing her to climb off him, taking her hand as she offered it. “Goodnight, Tom.” (y/n) said and he squeezed her hand as she left his side to go to her dorm, his gaze locked onto her until she disappeared into the darkness.

“Goodnight, (y/n).” he murmured, turning on his heel to head down the boy’s dorms corridor till he reached his room, running a hand down his face as he closed his door behind him. “Merlin.” He huffed under his breath, toeing off his uniform shoes and sitting down on his bed, his thumb rubbing hard against his other hands knuckle.

He never expected to feel like this, to feel so-electrified and…alive with someone. To feel giddy when he saw her, or hell-bashful when she teased him. He sighed, flopping back on his bed, his eyes closing as he remembered the feeling of her lips on his less than 30 minutes before.

“Fuck,” he chuckled breathlessly, turning over on his bed to hide his smile in his bedding. He was utterly gone for this girl, plans and ambitions gone with the wind the moment she’d caught his eye so many months ago.

He remembered spotting her at the Slytherin table, all alone-a sudden new student caught many eyes but him? She felt so odd, so different, so…interesting. He’d tried to go into her mind, using his legilimens skill to look into her memories but she so quickly blocked him out that he nearly fell out of his chair, feeling the doors of her occlumency slam in his face.

From then, she’d really captured his interest. He’d watch her during classes-wanting her attention so he’d interrupt her and correct her, quite a childish reaction he would admit. Then began their rivalry and it had been exhilarating, having her full attention, she snap and spit and snarl at him and all he felt like was grinning with victory.

Yes. Pay attention to me, see me, ignore everyone else; he would think, even though he would get angry sometimes, especially that first time she showed him up in potions. He’d been impressed, perhaps smitten, but still he was academic to his core-he wanted her secrets, he wanted to know how she ticked.

So, he’d cornered her and asked her how she’d known how to brew that potion, better than even Slughorn-she just shoved him away, calling him a ‘know it all cunt’. He’d been angry then, but later, he just recalled the way her hands felt against him, how good she smelled, how feisty she really was.

And now, she was his, he’d tasted her lips and felt her against him, had his hands on her waist and her ass against his thighs. He sighed with a smirk. Today had been a good day.

-

Tom stared at her face with a soft gaze, watching her from his desk as she rested on his bed, her hair pulled out of her face-even her bangs-as she did some Charms homework, using a book to write on. His gaze went to the scar that went from her forehead down to her cheekbone on the left side of her face.

He'd always been curious about it, wondering what happened-if it was an accident or if someone had given her that scar. He stood up from his desk, sitting beside her on the bed, his arm reaching around her to take her quill from her hand.

“Tom?” She mumbled, her eyes blinking away the focus she’d been deep in. “What’re doin’?” She asked, and Tom took her homework, setting it aside with the book she’d been using.

“May I ask a possibly personal question?” Tom asked and (y/n) furrowed her brows at him and then huffed, turning to face him, curling her legs onto the bed.

“Only if I can ask you one back.” She said and Tom huffed with a nod, and then his fingers gently ghosted over her scar, making her freeze up a bit.

“What happened?” he asked, quietly, holding her gaze. (y/n) swallowed harshly, letting out a soft breath, letting him trail the long thin scar with his thumb.

“My…my uncle did it, when I was a little kid, I hardly remember it-i mean, I do but at the same time I don’t…you get what I mean?” (y/n) said, looking up at Tom, with an almost shy gaze and Tom nodded. He understood. “Well, when I was young, my uncle-who is a very…proud blood purist, didn’t like the fact that my grandfather, a pure-blood, had fallen in love with my grandmother, a muggle-born.” (y/n) paused, searching Toms’ gaze for a reaction, he didn’t give her one and she continued.

“He hated my mother for being a half-blood-he hated my grandmother for being muggle-born and he hated my grandfather for being a blood traitor, he and his mother-my grandfathers ex-wife-separated themselves from my family and shunned my grandfather for being a blood traitor and having a ‘half-blood daughter’ when he already had a pureblood son.” (y/n) swallowed, getting to the difficult part of the story.

“My mom fell in love with my dad when she was in school, around my age, he’s a muggle-born, they had me, so I’m half-blood. My uncle returned around this time because my grandfather had died from dragon pox, saw that my mother had married a muggle-born, and had me-he got…angry, enough to kidnap me to try and blackmail my mother, to make her more ‘pureblood’. He was mad-from what I was told-demanding my mother leave my father and marry back into the pureblood family-he was holding me, he had a knife and…he cut me-“

(y/n) mimicked the blade going up her face, she remembered feeling very scared and feeling her face burst into white-hot pain-she remembered screaming. Tom held her face gently yet tightly, his hand tight around hers. “My dad saved me, I don’t remember much after that.” (y/n) said, she remembered waking up in a hospital with her vision half dark because of the bandages. “My uncle got sent off to Azkaban for multiple reasons, but kidnapping me got him arrested finally.”

Tom stared at her for a very long moment, his nostrils flaring with anger at her uncle. She gave him a weak smile, reaching up with her free hand to pat his hand that held her face. “I’m okay now, really, it was a long time ago-he’s dead, died in Azkaban a few years after being sentenced.”

Tom slowly nodded; his eyes dark as he stared at her scar-as if he was trying to erase it from existence so she couldn’t be burdened with that memory anymore.

“your turn,” (y/n) said softly and Tom’s eyes met hers, confused for a moment. “You tell me something personal,” she said and he remembered their deal, having forgotten about it in such a short time with her traumatic story.

Tom sighed, looking up at the ceiling of his bedposts, biting his inner lip. “I…don’t know what love feels like,” he said quietly, looking down at his lap. “I didn’t grow up with it. The caretakers at the orphanage…despise me, I was an odd child, I’ll admit, but apparently, I was too odd for them. Too…creepy, too…intense, I scared the other children-I used my magic, which I didn’t know was magic at the time-to hurt them, to keep them away from me. To keep myself safe. I didn’t have any friends, or anybody to tell me I would be okay during thunderstorms, or someone to put a Band-Aid on my scraped knee.”

Her hand wrapped around his and he squeezed back, taking a short breath. “I never knew what love felt like, so I thought it was a waste of time, something I shouldn’t bother myself with. Because if I knew I was never going to get it, why try wanting it? But…” he looked up at her know, his dark eyes open and vulnerable. “you…you make me want it, to…try feeling it. And its terrifying.”

He whispered and (y/n) squeezed his hand again, scooting closer to him, his other hand brushing against her scar again. “it is…” she agreed, resting her head on his shoulder-his arm wrapping around her, his head on top of hers. “it really is…but…its really exciting, feeling it, with you.” she admitted and she felt him smile against her hair, and he kissed the top of her scar.

“Thank you for not being scared of me,” he whispered and (y/n) snorted, rubbing her head against him.

“I could never be, you’re too nerdy.”

“Okay, low blow.”

(y/n) burst into laughter at his dry reply and he smirked, turning to press her to the bed and attack her jaw and scar with kisses.

-

“Now that’s just stupid,” (y/n) chortled, Tom huffing from beneath her, his arms around her waist-gripping her sweater vest.

“Is it?” Tom murmured against her shoulder, looking quite content from his spot beneath her on the couch, both being warmed by the common room fireplace.

“It is! No person with any brain cells would use a bloody troll snot in a potion! It’s like corn starch it’d ruin the whole thing.” (y/n) said while Tom snorted, hiding his smile in the back of her neck, hands pressing into her stomach. “Why would you even suggest it? Mr. 2nd in potions grades?” (y/n) asked, poking fun at the fact that she’d topped him in potion ranks for a while now.

Tom only smiled-he’d said it to rile her up, he liked it when she was passionate. (y/n) rolled her eyes, poking his nose, snickering as he scrunched it and shook his head lightly, pulling his head away from her neck. “Cheeky.” He muttered and (y/n) stuck her tongue out at him, laying back as Tom’s friends entered the common room, one giving Tom a meaningful look that (y/n) had barely caught.

Tom sighed, kissing her neck and sitting them up. “I'll be back,” he said and (y/n) raised her brow as he pulled his legs out from either side of her and kissed her hand before leaving with his friends, some already starting to whisper to Tom.

What in the heck was that? (y/n) thought to herself, a weird pit of anxiety dropping into her chest.

She recalled that some of Tom’s friends, or well their sons or daughters really-were death eaters, like Lestrange, Nott, Rosier-all famous death eaters.

She didn’t know why this memory came up now, when it felt unnecessary, but something told her to follow them, to see what the boys were going to talk about.

She did so, quietly following the group of boys-blending in with the other students footsteps that roamed the halls until the boys had gone into an empty classroom-a muffling charm placed so no one could overhear them but (y/n) was within the bubble without noticed, carefully standing just outside the door-cracking it ever so slightly to hear them.

They were whispering still-which was odd because especially with a muffling charm people didn’t whisper unless whatever they were talking about was not…good.

“And the mudbloods?” Tom spoke louder and (y/n)’s chest froze at how he sounded, so cold and…dark.

“Those pesky first years? Boiled and lock-legged, deserved it for spilling that porridge on you.” Rosier snickered, a nasty look on his face and (y/n) felt the anxiety in her chest grow into dread. Tom looked satisfied and (y/n) felt like she was going to throw up.

She’d been sitting with Tom when a first year-a shy boy with big square glasses-had accidentally spilled porridge on Tom when trying to get to his friends. Tom hadn’t reacted but now (y/n) knew it wasn’t something that was brushed off, he’d gotten his friends to pull a mean ‘prank’ on the poor 11-year-old just for accidentally spilling porridge on Tom, something (y/n) had cleaned up in seconds!

“Good. Did anyone see you hex them?” Tom asked and Rosier shook his head, smirking.

“Of course not, I’m a master of stealth.” Rosier snickered, giving a small bow of his head to Tom. “Anything else, Voldemort?”

(y/n)’s entire heart stopped beating, what did-what did he just call Tom? She peeked through the crack, seeing Tom’s eyes gleaming with satisfaction being called that.

‘Once there was a young man, who, like you, sat in this very hall, walked this castle’s corridors, slept under its roof. He seemed to the world a student like any other. His name? Tom Riddle. Today of course, he’s known all over the world by another name.’

Dumbledore’s words echoed in her head on repeat-she remembered the opening feast speech from her 5th year, how Dumbledore had told them about Voldemort and who he used to be.

That’s where she’d thought she’d heart Tom’s name before…Tom Riddle was Voldemort.

She took a shuddering gasp and slipped away from the empty classroom-rushing back to the Slytherin common room-vision blurring with tears as it felt so hard to breathe suddenly, she tripped down the stairs and spoke the common room password in a single breath-shoving open the doors and racing up the steps and-after only a moment of hesitation-booked it down the boy's dorm corridor.

She opened Tom’s door-he’d given her a key to it a bit ago-breathing heavily as she looked around.

Her eyes landed on his diary, something he’d gotten for himself as an early birthday gift from a muggle bookstore. She snatched it up, opening it with a sense of dread she’d been feeling since hearing Tom say the words ‘mudblood’.

Instantly, she felt sick.

She found pages and pages of the truth-of who Tom really was, his name written out and rewritten till he landed on the name Voldemort, scribbles of what would eventually become the dark mark, a whole chunk of pages dedicated to whatever the hell horcruxes were-including a plan to use the chamber of secrets to create his first one out of the very diary she held.

She remembered her first year-when the chamber of secrets had been opened and Ginny Weasley had been taken into it, rumors went around about how Voldemort had possessed her to open the chamber.

Tom Riddle was Voldemort, her boyfriend was the dark lord.

She snapped the book shut-letting it drop back onto his desk and left the room, slamming the door behind her and rushing across the hall to the girls dorms. She stumbled through her door, closing it and locking it.

There, she let it all crash down on her, she sank to the floor under the weight of it all. Her boyfriend, Tom Marvolo Riddle, was the same terrifying snake like dark lord that had terrorized the wizarding and muggle world for nearly two decades, the man who had killed thousands, destroyed hundreds of homes and families-killed Cedric Diggory in her 3rd year.

Her charming, nerdy, handsome Tom Riddle…was the very man who ruined her life, who had caused her uncle to become so-mad with blood purity-to be so bold to take her and give her a scar.

Her boyfriend was the dark lord.

Her head dropped between her shoulders and she sobbed, letting out a hoarse scream as she remembered everything with him over the last six months, their rivalry, their first dates, their first kiss, her telling him how she got her scar and him telling her about how he was afraid of love but was willing to brave it for her.

Was it all a lie? A manipulation? A long con?

Did he even want her? Was this just a ploy to hook his dark roots into more and more people until he had his army of death eaters?

She sobbed so hard she felt she might throw up-she did, racing to the bathroom to puke her lunch, bile burning her throat as she continued to sob. She ripped off her snake bracelet and chucked it at the bathroom mirror-it shattered and (y/n) screams again, slumping back against the wall as glass clatters to the counter and floor, (y/n)’s hands getting cut up as she slides down to the floor, the mirror shards cutting into her skin.

She doesn’t care, she doesn’t move.

The boy she’d fallen in love with was lord fucking Voldemort.

She has to go home.

-

“Please sir.” (y/n) begs Dumbledore, who was the only one besides Dippet who knew that she wasn’t from this era, who knew she had to get back to her time. “I have to go home, I can’t stay here anymore.” (y/n) said-her voice aching from crying as Dumbledore looks at her from behind his half-moon glasses.

“I understand miss (l/n),” Dumbledore says softly, standing from his desk in the transfiguration classroom, rounding it to stand close to her. “Weeks ago I finally received word back from the ministry about acquiring a time tuner to send a time-misplaced student back to their time, they’ve finally got one ready for you. only took weeks of convincing them I wasn’t joking.”

(y/n) lets out a shuddering breath, wondering why he hadn’t told her that when originally getting the letter. “I didn’t tell you because you seemed…happy here, with your friends and Mr. Riddle.” The mention of Tom nearly sends her into a fit and her hands shake as she breathes heavily. “Oh,” Dumbledore mutters with surprise as she begins to sob, taking her hands that she hadn’t healed and were shaking. “Has something happened (y/n)?”

He says her name like a grandfather, tugging her close for a hug as she ugly cries, her face hot and tears streaming down her cheeks as her eyes ache.

She can't tell Dumbledore what she’s discovered-she knows she’s probably screwed up enough just by existing in this era, but she so badly wants to tell him about Voldemort, about the horrors that await the world.

She can't. It could do something disastrous to the future, to her time.

“We broke up,” she says instead, even though that’s not true-at least not officially, she’d been avoiding Tom since overhearing the conversation between him and his frien…followers. Avoiding him since finding his diary and looking through it.

He always looked so confused when she’d run from him, his hand reaching out towards her as she turned tail and ran from him like he was dangerous.

He was, he was Voldemort.

“There there young one, it’ll be okay, affairs of the heart can always be confusing,” Dumbledore said softly as she sobbed her heart out for the 5th time that day. “One day, it won't hurt so much.” She sniffled and pulled back to look up at him, swallowing harshly.

“When will I’ll be able to go back?” she asked and Dumbledore stroked his beard in thought before remembering.

“On the weekend, so you can have time to say goodbye to the friends you’ve made in this era.” Dumbledore said, a twinkle in his eye as (y/n) sighed, three days. Only three days left before she could go home and forget this time travel mishap ever happened.

Three days before she’d disappear from Tom Riddle’s….Voldemort’s life for good. She just hoped this didn’t cause some sort of obsession with the dark lord when she was back with her time-she didn’t want to deal with all that.

If it did, she’d probably kill herself.

Dumbledore sent her back to her common room as it was late-she’d waited until nearly curfew to see him so no one would interrupt. She walked through the torch-lit corridors slowly, sniffling quietly as she wiped her face of tears. Three days, she just had to avoid Tom for three more days and then she’d be home, away from him.

“(y/n).” She hears his voice from behind her and she runs. “(y/n)-wait! Stop!” He yells after her, his footsteps following her quickly as she runs through the halls-racing back to the common room to try and get to her dorm before he can catch her.

“(y/n) please!” he cries out-she ignores the hurt in his voice, the desperate tone. It was fake, it was all fake-he was just trying to trick her. “(y/n)! love! Please! Talk to me! What did I do wrong?!”

She can only thank the gods as someone entered the common room right before her-leaving the doors wide open. She shoves past the 4th year and races up the stairs, Tom at her heels.

He just barely grabs her robes and she yanks them off before escaping down the girl's dorm corridor-protected by the barrier. She barely looks to see him slam into the barrier-his dark eyes heartbroken, confused, sad. “(y/n)…” he says softly, sinking to his knees as she disappears into her dorm room.

His eyes haunt her in her sleep-flashing between those dark sad eyes and the horrifying snake-like ones of Voldemort. Tom Riddle and Voldemort-one in the same.

Morning comes and Lucy gently knocks at her door, opening it when she receives no response. “(y/n)?” Lucy asked softly, her other friends all just behind her. They see (y/n) curled up in her bed, the curtains drawn and lights off. “(y/n)?” Lucy said again, the girls filing in and Julia closed the door behind her as they all gathered around (y/n)’s bed, Lucy and Alice climbing into it.

“(y/n) what happened? Tom’s been asking for you?” Iridessa asks and they all freeze as (y/n) sobs, the girls going into instant comfort mode as they huddle up to hug (y/n) as she sat up and curled into Lucy’s arms, her face flushed and puffy. “Oh, (y/n),” Iridessa sighs, brushing her hand down (y/n)’s back.

Her friends lay with her and hold her as she cries, but shakes her head each time they ask her what happened between her and Tom. All she offers is that they broke up, and that she doesn’t want to talk about it.

“I have to tell you guys something,” she says, gaining control of her sobbing after a half hour. Her friends all nod, gathering closer to her, Alice and Bella holding her tight from behind as Lucy holds her hand. “This weekend, im leaving.” She says and her friends gasp.

“What-why?” Julia asks, grabbing her free hand and (y/n) struggles to explain, but eventually does.

“I’m not from this era. I’m from the 90s,” she reveals, and her friends hang onto every word she says. “I fell on a time turner and it broke-sending me here with no way to get back, Dumbledore finally heard back from the ministry and this weekend, I’ll be sent back home.”

Her friends take this with surprising grace but not without disappointment. “we’ll miss you, so much.” Lucy said softly, her cheek squished against (y/n)’s as they all hug her. “Let’s do something before you go, one last hurrah,” Julia suggests and (y/n) smiles weakly, nodding. “Yeah, that sounds fun,” she said softly as her friends hug her again, determined to make her last three days better than just hiding from Tom and crying about the reality of it all.

-

Her friends keep Tom away from her, though the confusion and heartbreak in his eyes haunt her every step. He tries to approach her nearly every hour, in the common room, at breakfast, between classes, in their shared classes, at lunch-he tries and tries and tries but she doesn’t let him get close-always just out of his reach.

He doesn’t understand-one minute they were happy, blissful-Tom hadn’t even known the meaning of the word till he was with her, but now…now she looks afraid of him, like he’s dangerous, venomous.

She wasn’t supposed to be afraid of him-she was supposed to be the only one not afraid of him. He can't even get close to her, her friends keep him away and she runs away when her friends can't guard her.

Was this what heartbreak felt like? So achingly and painfully deep it felt like you might die? He waited for her every morning outside the girl’s dorms, making himself small as he sat in front of the doorway-hoping she’d stop, let him talk to her, to try and figure out what he did wrong to make her like this.

She never stopped, she took one look and ran-her friends stopping him from following even as he begged for her to just talk for a minute. He never begged, but he would, for her.

He’d never seen her scared of him, even when they were rivals, even when he’d raise his wand at her during dueling practice. But to see her so frightened, of him…he felt sick.

‘id never be, you’re too nerdy’

Her words echoed in his head and he feels like crying-he never felt like crying, not since he was very young and still had hope of being cared for. What happened? What did he do to make her scared of him? Did someone tell her something? Did one of his followers fuck up? Had she overheard something?

She was a good person, spunky and snarky and perfect, she had a soft good heart-opposite of his. He was cruel and mean and vile-he planned to be the most powerful dark wizard in the world-he planned to make the world fear his chosen name.

But no one but himself and his followers knew of this-to everyone else he was a golden boy, maybe a bit weird sometimes, but he was smart and charming and powerful-respected.

What happened to make (y/n) so scared of him?

He had to find out-he just had to-he had to he had to he had to.

-

He cornered her, getting her right after potions ended and he wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her backwards. She tried to scream but he quickly silenced her with the silencing charm. “Please-I just want to talk to you-(y/n) please-don’t be scared of me-please!” he begged, he never begged-she continued to try and get out of his grip, even hitting him-shaking her head. “You’re not supposed to be scared of me!” he yelled, and she glared at him-tears in her eyes and he grabbed her hand, forcing himself into her memories.

He sees it all-her heartbreak, begging Dumbledore to send her back home, finding his diary, overhearing him with his friends-her heartbreak when he says mudblood, their soft kisses and whispers, hanging out after curfew, cuddling by the fire, their first date, Christmas, the party, her friends, the broken time-turner, the snatchers, Hogwarts bathed in darkness, death eaters, Dumbledore dying.

…Voldemort.

He pulls back from her-choking as she slams her elbow into his gut-she’s crying, he can't breathe-eyes wide as her memories flash through his mind again and again.

She knows everything and more-because she’d lived through the nightmare he planned to bring to the world, she knew it all-she knew his plans, she knew his name, she knew the darkness he hid from everyone but his followers. She knew because she lived through it, suffered under his rule.

He looks up at her, she’s terrified-sobbing.

He reaches out and she runs, his heart shatters.

“(y/n),” he breathes out pathetically, tears burn in his eyes as he sits on the cold floor.

He caused her scar.

-

She’s leaving tomorrow, going back to her time where Voldemort controlled Hogwarts, Dumbledore was dead, and Harry Potter was nowhere to be found-rumored to be out hunting something to kill the dark lord.

Her friends had taken her out to Hogsmeade with special permission from Dumbledore, treated her with pints of butterbeer and lamb, let her have a run of honeydukes and get whatever sweets she liked, she tried on suits and dresses at the clothing store next to madam Puddifoots, and Julia got her a new bracelet to replace the one from Tom-one she’d buried somewhere in her room, next to the dying flowers; also from Tom.

It had been a good day, a long good day, Tom hadn’t bothered her, she hadn’t even seen him once-and that left her a bit unnerved-wondering if he was plotting something.

Knowing who he was going to be, he probably was.

She got ready for bed soon after returning from Hogsmeade, taking a long shower and cutting her hair back into the style and length it had been May 2nd 1998. She found her old uniform and got it ready for tomorrow, ready to go back home-ready to re-enter the war.

A knock sounded at her door, she opened it to find a nervous first-year girl, looking up at her. “The-the prefect wants to talk to you.” the girl said, handing (y/n) a bouquet of flowers, her favorite flowers. (y/n) slowly took them, the first year rushing off as (y/n) turned the bouquet in her hands, finding a tag with Tom’s handwriting on it.

“Please. Just one talk.”

She stood there for a long time, maybe 8 minutes, staring at the flowers and the note. Should she? Maybe he’d hex her, or love potion her, or curse her, kill her, feed her to the basilisk.

She wouldn’t know unless she found out.

She sighed, summoning all her bravery and stepping out into the corridor, walking down the hall until she reached the doorway out of the dorms, spotting Tom sitting at the fireplace-alone, no one else in the room.

In his hands was his diary. He seemed nervous, visibly nervous; his leg was bouncing, his hair a mess-wild and curled up, no product in it. She stepped out, walking towards him, he saw her and sat up straight, swallowing harshly and he said her name-so breathlessly and hopeful that it made her stop.

He quickly averted her eyes. “Sorry,” he whispered, the diary clutched at his side, his hand gripping it so tight it bent.

She stared at him, his eyes were on the diary. There was no sound other than the fire and their breathing for a very long minute. Finally-Tom looked at her and he looked tired, so exhausted and heartbroken and defeated. “Please stay,” he said, achingly, pleadingly, his jaw clenching horribly as he stepped towards her-she stepped back-he stopped.

“What?” she asked, and she watched as the sound of her voice made his eyes flutter and he took a deep breath, holding the diary with both hands.

“Stay. Please.” He said again, begging. “Don’t go back to your time-don’t go back to…that war. Don’t go where I can’t follow.” He whispered, looking up at her.

“How can you ask that?” she whispered, clenching her jaw, fists tight at her sides. “You saw it all, you know why I can't stay, you know why I’ve been avoiding you-why I want to go back.”

Tom’s eyes were hard yet sad-anger, not at her, filling his face.

“I won't stay with someone who becomes…him.” (y/n) said, not even daring to say the name and Tom nearly flinches, his eyes going back down to his diary, trembling.

He throws it into the fire and her eyes go wide. “What the hell are you doing?” she asks and then Tom is on his knees in front of her, holding the length of her robe-tears are in his eyes-his voice cracks as he speaks.

“Stay with me, please.” He begs, his hair a mess-looking so different from the nightmare in her dreams-seeing him with red eyes and a cruel smirk. “Please, please stay. I don’t want that anymore, I don’t want to be him anymore-I only want you. You have brought me joy and sorrow and pain and love and I don’t know if I can function without you-please. Please. Stay. Don’t leave me.”

Tom begs, burying his face into the fabric of her robe, his shoulders jumping with a sob. Her eyes turn to the fire, watching as the drawings of the dark mark burn up with the rest of the book.

Voldemort burning to death right before her eyes.

“I love you (y/n), please don’t go.” He begs again, tears soaking her robe and she doesn’t know what to do.

She’s supposed to leave for the ministry at sunrise with Dumbledore, she supposed to go home tomorrow morning, she’s supposed to fight against Voldemort's forces.

She looks down at Tom, he’s crying, ugly crying-not caring who saw him on his knees for her. “I’ll disband the knights, I’ll burn all the books I have of dark magic, I won’t hurt anyone ever again, just please. Stay.” He begs again, looking up at her, eyes shining with tears-his eyes completely brown, lit amber by the fire.

She doesn’t know what to do.

Tom sounds terribly dependent on her right now, giving her a strange ultimatum.

Stay with him, and Voldemort never happens. Go back to her time, and Voldemort happens, possibly even worse with the ache of teenage first love heartbreak.

She needs to think about this.

Stay and leave behind her time, her home, her family, her friends; all of it-for the possibility of Tom keeping his promise. Or go home, and risk Tom becoming even worse, possibly making herself a target for Voldemort. But also leave behind her friends here, and a version of Hogwarts that hadn’t been touched by Voldemort yet.

She looks down at Tom 

Stay with Tom, Voldemort dies. Go back home, Voldemort gets worse, and she becomes a personal target.

“i…I can’t,” she whispers, and Tom looks utterly lost, like she’d pulled his heart out and ripped it in front of him, or split apart his soul and stomped on it. “i-I,” she can’t finish her sentence, she needs to think about it.

It’s a big decision, she can’t make it right now-she needs to clear her head. She pries his clammy hands off her robes and goes back to her room. Tom curls in on himself, holding himself as tears trail down his face-gasping for breath as his diary burns in the fireplace behind him.

“(y/n),” he says so quietly, heartbroken.

-

Her fingers rub over the silver metal of the snake bracelet, the one from Julia is snug on her wrist now, the one from Tom held in her hands tightly as she waits for Dumbledore to come back from the ministry with the time turner-she had to be in the exact place she’d left, the DADA classroom. She’d be leaving within the hour, going back to her time.

To her home, her family, her friends, to war…to Voldemort. She knows things are going to be different, teachers will suddenly remember a version of her from decades ago, especially Slughorn. Voldemort might come after her personally, he might try to force her to be with him, might try to carve out her heart to keep it, might love potion her to stay with him.

She swallows again, looking up as Dumbledore emerges from the fireplace along with a ministry officer, who holds the time turner. and offers a smile. “it’s all ready,” he says, leading her and the officer to the DADA classroom. The officer hands her the time turner, it’s set for May 2nd, 1998.

So, she was going 55 years into the future, back to her time, back home. To war. To Voldemort.

“It’s all ready, just put it on and twist the rings back together, and then when you’re back in your time, leave it in a safe space and it’ll come back to us within an hour.” The ministry officer said, his arms crossed as (y/n) reached out and put on the time-turner, her hands shaking as she takes each end between her fingers.

Stay or go home.

….

Stay or go home.

-

Tom felt like he was dying. He sat in front of the common room fire, where he’d tossed his diary-his diary filled with all his plans and ambitions. The dark mark, his chosen name; and all the diary entries about (y/n).

About when she first arrived, about how he felt about her, about how nervous he was to ask her to accompany him to the Christmas party, how gorgeous he thought she looked, how wonderful it had been to dance with her. He wrote it all down, the pages overtaking every single one of his plans, to the point where he nearly forgot it all, only thinking about it when his followers had brought it up.

And now…now he’d never see her again. Not until he was already old, he’d bee in his 50s when she would be born, 1981. 40 something years from now. He swallowed hard, closing his eyes, willing back the tears in his eyes.

Maybe he should’ve offered to go with her instead, he’d truly leave it all behind-he’d go to her Hogwarts with her, learn her time, leave the knights behind, leave dark magic behind.

But she left him. It was past sunrise now, he heard her leave the common room a bit ago-he hadn’t slept, sitting by the fireplace the whole night, watching her go.

Maybe he should’ve tried to convince her one last time, maybe tried to get a goodbye kiss.

He’d never kiss her again he realized just then, never hold her hand or hug her, or even see her smile.

Tom’s lip wobbled and he shoved down his emotions, or well he tried to. It was no use, he was going to miss her so damn much that he felt like dying, was this what heartbreak felt like? The feeling of his heart aching so hard that he wanted to rip it out? The feeling of being unable to breathe and his eyes aching so badly he wanted to fall asleep forever?

If this is what heartbreak is like-he never wanted to feel it again.

He stands up, jaw clenched with anger now. She didn’t want to stay, she didn’t want to love him anymore-too scared of him, too scared of what he could be.

He still had his books for horcruxes-perhaps he’d make one early, get rid of this painful feeling in his whole body-remove his soul to remove her from his heart.

He turns, heading back to his dorm but before he can even leave the main room of the common room-arms wrap around him-stopping him in his tracks.

A head rests on his back, they take a shaky breath, he looks down at the hands on his stomach-his heart skipping a beat at the familiar silver snake bracelet around their wrist.

He turns, there she is.

“You-“ he breathes out, about to cry again and she takes a shaky breath, looking up at him.

“I’m staying.” She whispered and he can’t help his smile-big and watery and full of relief-his heart beats rapidly in his chest it might explode with happiness and he takes her into his arms, spinning her around as she gasps-which turns into shaken laughter as he holds her impossibly close.

He collapses back onto the couch-having not eaten or slept the last day and she gasps, landing right on top of him-where she should be. “Thank you, thank you thank you,” Tom whispers out shakily into her ear and she swallows, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head against his-he squeezes her like he’s trying to melt into her body.

“Don’t make me regret this?” She whispers, and he nods against her, already planning their life together. They’d graduate together, get a home together, marry one day, have kids-he’d become the DADA professor, perhaps the minister, she’d boss him around and he’d smile; he’d dote on her and she’d roll her eyes.

“You won’t, I promise.” He whispered back.

-14 years later-

The sun rose on a countryside home, dew drops gently reflecting the sunlight as morning came upon the family of four, soon to become five. A 31-year-old Tom Riddle, and his wife (y/n) Riddle, were still asleep in their comfy bed, buried under quilts and a soft blanket, (y/n) snoring softly as Tom slowly awoke with the morning sun, tightening his grip around his wife, his bleary vision still able to appreciate the view.

He smiled softly looking at her, her face half buried in the fluffy pillow, drool dried on her chin since her mouth had opened during sleep, her hands curled up under her chin and neck, her body stretched out with one leg hiked up towards him-her knee against his hip.

Tom quickly closed his eyes, hiding his smirk as the patter of feet came bolting down the hallway and the bedroom door opened-a bright eyed boy who seemed to be an exact copy of his father bounding onto the bed. “Dad-dad! Dad dad dad! It’s today!” 10-year-old Mattheo Julius Riddle tried to shake his dad awake, bouncing on his knees as Tom hid his smile in his pillow-pretending to be asleep. “Daaaaad c’mon! it’s the first!”

September 1st 1958, Mattheo would be going to Hogwarts today-a day he’d waited for the last 9 years since learning about the school-he’d gotten his Hogwarts letter at the start of July, he’d proudly shown it off to anyone that would listen, and (y/n) had pinned it to the bulletin board that was in the kitchen that held many drawings and report cards from the last 10 years.

 Tom faked a sleepy hum, flinging his arms up-covered with the blankets-and drawing his son into the blankets, holding him close. “Daaaaaad!” Mattheo laughed, wiggling in his dad’s arms as Tom fake snored, (y/n) waking up from all the ruckus. “Mooom! It’s the first!” Mattheo said-spotting his mother sitting up from the small peek in the blankets.

“It is?” (y/n) hummed, only half awake, holding her rounded belly as she hobbled out of bed, heading right for the bathroom. Mattheo let out a whine; his parents were not taking this day seriously! Tom turned a bit and looked at the clock.

“Matt it’s six am, the train doesn’t leave till eleven.” Tom groaned, his voice rough with sleep, releasing Mattheo as he continued to wiggle. Tom’s body bounced slightly as Mattheo began to jump on the bed.

“And!?! It’s too important to miss! Get up get up get up! Mom make waffles please!?” Mattheo said, spinning while jumping on the bed, and (y/n) made a noise between a yawn and a groan, muffled by the bathroom door.

“Is your sister even up?” Tom asked as Mattheo jumped off the bed and began to tug Tom out of the bed, Tom groaned as he allowed his son to pull him out of the warmth of the bed.

“I’m up daddy,” A squeaky sweet voice came from the open doorway, Tom’s 6-year-old daughter, Aurora-named after (y/n)’s favorite Disney movie from her time(which was about to release next year if (y/n) recalled correctly, she was very excited.)-standing in the doorway with her stuffed pink bunny held in her arms, looking adorably sleepy with her hair that matched her mother’s all a mess from sleep.

“Good morning my sweet, did your brother wake you up with his chaos?” Tom asked Aurora and she nodded, reaching her arms up and Tom scooped her up happily, kissing her chubby rosy cheek. “I’m sorry princess, are you hungry?” Aurora nodded again and Tom walked to the kitchen that was just down the hall from the bedroom-Mattheo already getting out what his mother needed to make waffles.

“Eggs, flour, sour cream,” Mattheo muttered, reading off the recipe card that was on the fridge. Tom set up the table and helping Mattheo get out the waffle maker, Aurora sitting in her chair at the breakfast nook table, drinking some water to start the day while Tom poured her a cup of pumpkin juice.

“Mom! Waffles!” Mattheo yelled down the hall and Tom pinched his ear for yelling at his pregnant mother. “Sorry!” Mattheo yelled again as he dodged another ear pinch and Tom huffed with a smile, shaking his head as he cracked eggs into a bowl and waved his wand-bacon lining up onto a pan and sliding into the preheating oven.

(y/n) soon emerged from the bedroom, her hair brushed and looking a bit more awake, putting on Tom’s jumper, a sight Tom adored since it hardly hid her baby bump. “Good morning my bride,” Tom hummed with a flirtatious smirk and (y/n) rolled her eyes, kissing him as she passed by him.

“Good morning babe,” she murmured, grabbing the metal bowl Mattheo had gotten out and she began to make the waffle mix, plugging in the waffle maker as Tom got the skillet ready to make scrambled eggs.

The two worked like a well-oiled machine to make breakfast for themselves and their children, and soon they were all sat at the breakfast nook table, Mattheo eagerly digging into his favorite breakfast while Aurora carefully cut apart her waffle-only butter no syrup- Tom putting a strip of bacon on her plastic plate. “Thank you mum!” Mattheo said with his mouth full and (y/n) snorted while Tom tapped his chin.

“No talking with your mouth full Mattheo, it’s not see food.” Tom scolded and Mattheo struggled to swallow before apologizing. Tom nodded and Aurora nibbled on her bacon, scooping eggs onto her waffle before stuffing it into her mouth.

When breakfast was finished Tom waved his wand and all the dishes began to wash themselves. “No running while dishes are flying!” Tom yelled after Mattheo as he jumped from his chair and raced back to his room, Aurora sleepily rubbing her eyes as she carefully got down from her chair.

“C’mon sweetie lets go pick an outfit for you for today,” (y/n) told Aurora and she nodded, walking beside her mom as they went to Auroras room at the end of the hall, across from the nursery.  Tom smiled at his little family, looking around his home with a sense of peace and comforting purpose.

After dishes were done and the breakfast mess was cleaned up-Tom picked up toys and blankets that were scattered about in the living room, putting everything away and heading into his and (y/n)’s bedroom, making the bed and cleaning up the bathroom before getting dressed and setting out an outfit for (y/n), knocking on Mattheo’s door to check on him.

“Ready!” Mattheo said excitedly, opening the door to reveal him wearing his Hogwarts uniform, though it was without his house color as he had yet to be sorted.

Tom chuckled, shaking his head. “You don’t need to wear your uniform right away, you’ll have time to change on the train as it’s an eight hour ride. Get dressed casually, you’ll get restless wearing your uniform.” Tom said and Mattheo huffed, closing his door again to change.

He checked on his daughter and wife and Aurora was sitting still on her bed as (y/n) styled their daughter’s hair, making sure to put Aurora’s favorite hairpin into her hair. “There you go,” (y/n) said with a smile, Aurora turning to Tom to show off her hair and outfit; Tom smiled, crouching to kiss his daughter's rosy cheek.

“Beautiful my princess,” Tom murmured and Aurora kissed his cheek in return, Tom scooping her up as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Ready my dear?” Tom asked (y/n) and she nodded, heading past him to go into their bedroom to change.

She closed the door behind her, sighing softly as she passed by her dresser, the light catching onto the wedding photo that sat on her vanity.

12 years ago, she married Tom, 13 years ago her memories began to fade and change. She brushed her fingers over the faded scar on her face-so faded she sometimes forgot she even had it. Staying with Tom had changed the future, meaning the reason she even ended up in the ‘past’ changed-it was an accident now, she’d been sneaking around on a dare and knocked the time turner over.

Voldemort was now a forgotten name, a memory that only Tom knew now, her scar had changed-faded so much that it was nearly gone, the memory and knowledge of how it happened disappearing 6 years ago.

So many things had changed over the years in her memory, there was no boy who lived, or wizarding war, or dark lord. Now there was just her and her husband, who’d been working as the Defense against the dark arts professor for the last 9 years after briefly working as an auror.

(y/n) sighed, it was strange, to no longer remember who she once was-from the old timeline, she still remembered bits and pieces, but now it was all fractured, dreamlike-faded.

She didn’t mind, she was happy where she was now, a mother of 2 and pregnant with their third, wife of Tom Riddle who kept his promise.

She didn’t regret a thing.

-end! Thank you for reading!!-

[grapejuicestyless]

Wishes Do Come True

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summery: It was just a legend, something out in place to make people believe in something that couldn’t be true. But when fate has its way, JJ learns that sometimes, wishes do come true. CONTAINS SEASON 4 SPOILERS!!!

Ryan shot the gun first. He shot it because Ward was charging at him, his teeth bared and his arms spread wide. How fitting that he would go out as a somewhat decent father, a man who took three bullets and threw himself over a cliff to save his daughter and her Pogue best friends.

JJ remembers the feeling of the earth bending beneath his feet as he practically sprinted over to the edge, looking down past his feet to see where the Kook and the henchman lay. JJ thought it was strange, how someone could be so crumpled up, he knew bones weren’t made to bend that way, so seeing the way his body twisted made him a little sick.

He can hear Sarahs soft cries and echoing hiccups clearly, how Kiara seemed to grab onto herself to steady her breathing. He remembers seeing how tightly John B’s arms were woven around Sarah’s body, as if he were afraid she would jump next, as if her body could save his. There was no saving that, as sick as it was.

But what he really remembers, is the softness of her voice calling out for him, the way her voice shook like it was hard to get out. Only then did the sounds of his friends stop ringing in his ears, and through some champagne party effect, he could focus in on just the quietness of her. Only then did he realize as he tried to wrap his arm around thin air that she wasn’t at the ledge.

A stray bullet, it’s a funny thing. The shots fire, four, the last four bullets the man has, and only three reach the sacrificial lamb. The last one reaches one of the seven targets behind it.

Her hands shook over her upper stomach, gripping her skin just below her ribs. Even with a shaky focus, he could see the tint of red beginning to seep past her once light blue nails, now chipped and digging into the cloth of her shirt.

“JJ, I…I don’t…” She stumbled forward, her eyes flickering from his to some distant thing over his shoulder. She could barely focus her vision. He remembers the weight of her head hitting his shoulder as he caught her, the feeling of an extra warmth seeping into his own clothes, something wet and sticky that shouldn’t be drenching the two of them, but was.

“No, no, no. Come on cupcake, come on.” He gritted his teeth, trying to hold her up, but his need to keep her up was wavering at the look of agony on her face. She laid in his lap, his hand holding hers as they both pressed down on the wound, though, it was no use because they had no way home, and the nearest hospital wasn’t for miles. They had no idea where to even begin to search for one in the middle of all the greenery.

JJ rambled in a panic, a habit he’d always done, but she couldn’t make sense of it anymore. Her hearing was fuzzy and her vision came in and out in waves of darkness. She tried to look at her friends, but her eyes wouldn’t tear themselves away from her best friend’s face.

She had just gotten him, their love was still brand new, discovered on an island they were sure they would never find again. It was barely a month since they had shared a kiss under the stars, one both had been dreaming of for years. They went back and forth for what felt like centuries and now none of it mattered, because JJ was holding his love in his arms as she helplessly spat up blood and tried to focus on the blue of his eyes and not the tears on his face.

“It’s gonna be okay, you just gotta fight, you can fight. You fucking…” JJ broke out into a bitter laugh, one he didn’t mean as his palms messily wiped away the blood that trickled down her jaw. Red smeared everywhere, sticking to every crease in his skin. It burned, and so he kept smiling because his laughter, as disingenuous as it was, brought a weak smile to her face. “You saved my life, when I fell off that boat. You kept me alive, and I’m gonna keep you alive, so don’t give up on me.”

The sight of the tears finally spilling from her pretty eyes would forever haunt JJ, because he knew as her chest caved in against his lap, that the pain was too great to make her stay and suffer through, when they both knew she was as good as dead as soon as the gun was fired.

“It doesn’t hurt so bad anymore.” She had told him weakly, the initial throbbing turning into an intense burning, a mix of the powder and the blood that pooled around her, soaking his skin through his pants.

“N-no, come on baby…baby, cupcake, please.” He pleaded. “I love you, please.”

Her ears seemed to clear at his heavy confession, and a sweet smile, the sweet smile he had fallen for back in the third grade, graced her pretty, tired face one last time.

“I love you JJ.” She promised, blinking back the tears. Somehow, she found the strength to lift his hand from her wound and press her bloodied lips to his sticky palm.

He had to watch the way her eyes fluttered shut, one last choked breath that sounded similar to what Pope would later explain as death rattle breathing, escaped her mouth, and that sweet little smile faded into nothing as she laid dead in her best friends arms.

JJ was never quite the same after that. He still loved his friends, he was still reckless and loud and impulsive, but he seemed to do it all for her.

When they won their money finally, he thought of all the things he would’ve bought for her, all the beaches they could’ve surfed across. When he finally found a place to call home, he placed her pillow on her side of his bed, fluffed it up for her and swore some nights he could feel her head resting on his heavy chest.

He thought of how much she would have loved Poguelandia 2.0. It was bittersweet to see the flag because all he could think of was their first kiss under the white flag that waved proudly above them.

He missed their matching P4L stick and pokes, he hated that he had to look at his forever and know it no longer matched with anyone. He hated that everyone else around him had someone to lean on, a lover to come home to, when he knew he would never be able to love again. But most importantly, he hated how young she was. She was only nineteen.

John B told him it wasn’t about the time we had with those we have lost, but what we make of it, but JJ was too angry to care. He didn’t care, it was easy for John B to say when he had lost a best friend, but JJ had lost so much more.

He wore her charm bracelet on his wrist, even though it was tight and caused a lot of noise. He loved the charms on them because they were old and made of clay and they matched his rings and necklace. She made them when they were ten because they were too young for their tattoos.

He swore to never go after treasure again, he couldn’t risk it, but with the promise of a singular wish, JJ followed along like a duckling to Morocco, blood on his shirt and a new father to betray him.

“You know, they say the crown grants a wish.” Kiara broke the silence between them in the heat one day, looking up at the sky to avoid the awkwardness of eye contact. She didn’t have to ask to know he would wish for her back in a heartbeat, but she did anyway because truthfully she liked the way JJ talked about her. It made her feel like her best friend was still alive.

“Yeah?” JJ scoffed with a smirk. “What would you wish for?” He asked, leaning over the unstable ledge, bricks dusty and the cement breaking apart. It wobbled under his forearms.

“I’m not saying I believe it but…I’d wish to go back in time maybe. I’d try not to rush into everything.” She said calmly, her eyes finding JJ’s.

“What about you?” She asked softly, and JJ hummed.

“The thing about wishes is, they don’t come true if you say them.” Kiara laughed breathily at his words.

“Yeah?” She questioned for confirmation.

“Yeah.” He breathed out. “And I really want this one to come true.”

That phrase, “be careful what you wish for,” was made for people like JJ Maybank.

There’s this old game called “Monkeys Paw” that Y/n and JJ both loved when they were younger. One person would make a wish, and the goal of the game was to make that person regret that wish.

They would stay up for hours laughing about it.

If JJ wished for a pizza, the pizza was poisoned. If Y/n wanted a dog, it was rabid. They’d spend hours at a time waking up the neighbors just laughing at how outrageous they could make the faults.

Now that they were older, and now that Y/n was gone, JJ seemed to forget about the rules of the game.

He stumbled back, all air caught in his throat. He lost the crown, and he’d lost his girl, and now, here his biological father was with a knife twisted deep into his abdomen, pulling it out with a sickening crunch.

Kiara pleaded for him to keep fighting, her hands on the wound in a way that reminded him of the way he desperately pressed against Y/n’s all those weeks ago. Her cries were just as desperate, and they were just as fuzzy.

JJ now felt thankful he let her go peacefully, because living through the pain was insufferable, and he knew it would have been cruel to make her fight it any longer.

He cried a little, but he wasn’t sad. No, he was happy, even as Kiara screamed for Pope and John B, begging for help that would do no good because just like his precious Y/n, there was no way home and no help in sight.

He let out a hiccup, and his eyes focused on her brown ones as his vision cleared for a moment, the sting turning into a familiar burn.

“Kie, I never told you my wish.” He smiled, and she shook her head.

“No, Jayj, come on, you gotta fight it. I can’t lose you too.” She pleaded, and it was like he wasn’t even listening as he kept choking out words.

“I already got what I wished for.” He smiled.

All he ever wanted was a home, and though every sacred place he ever had to call that were short lived and destroyed, he had found it in the people who loved him, and the people he loved.

JJ wished for so much more than anyone thought, and he’d gotten all of it.

He had you at one point, and he was eternally grateful for every hug he ever received from your loving arms. He had Pope and John B, who made him laugh like no one else ever could, his ribs sore and his stomach shaking. Kiara and Sarah kept him grounded. He was grateful for how much they cared, how safe he felt around them. He knew he would miss his best friends more than anything else, he would miss them like family, because thats what they were.

The Pogues were his family, and his family was his home.

JJ wished for one last thing with the crown as the darkness took him. He slipped away from his body, his head lulling to the side as Kiara shook him, but he wasn’t there anymore, and he wasn’t afraid because there she was.

Kneeling beside Kiara and she didn’t even know, there she was, her sweet smile and her pretty eyes. She was holding both Kiara’s hand, and his hand, nothing more than wind to them on the ground, but now JJ could see her, and now he could hold her.

“Y/n? Cupcake?” He breathed out with a smile, the luckiest man in the world, even if his toes didn’t physically touch the dirt or the sand anymore.

“Jay…” She smiled back, a sweet sound falling past her lips, and it was simply half of his name.

As his arms wrapped around her tightly, his nose buried into her shoulder. It felt good to know that he would never have to let her go again, and that someday, his friends would have the same pleasure of holding him again too.

JJ’s wish had been a little greedy, because in addition to what he was already granted, he wished to be with Y/n again.

He guess he never really specified how but hey, wishes really do come true.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Hi lovely. Can you please do mafia Charles and he’s very protective over reader who’s younger than him and maybe his enemies hurt her and he goes crazy or smth — F1driverszona

Protection

babe asked so she shall receive, I swear I’ve never written a fic this quickly I hope y’all’s like it 🎀

*Perceval*

You know how you look at someone and feel your heart swell with pride and joy? That was how Charles was feeling the exact moment he saw his pretty little girlfriend get her bachelors degree. She looked so gorgeous in the white outfit he had picked with her, so pure and innocent.

Charles genuinely wondered how she hadn’t noticed all the security that constantly followed him. How was he only 27 with an entire estate under his name? It really made Charles ponder. Maybe she noticed but was smart enough to not bring it up.

Regardless, he was the proudest person in the room, eyes beaming with glee as she threw her cap up in the air with joy enriched onto her face. With her only being 20, their relationship was the root of all the gossip in town.

It was strange, really. 7 years wasn’t that bad. He knew her better than anyone, and she knew him the most. He never let such thoughts bother him, especially since he was running one of the most discreet underground mafia. Charles knew the risk of getting her involved in his life. He knew that she would forever be tangled in his dirty business, whether she knew it or not. He hated the way that she drew in people with her charm and charisma.

In Charles' world, more attention meant a higher probability of ending up dead. Just thinking about something happening to her made his blood boil. She’d never be harmed. Little did Charles know that pissing off the Russian Mafia came with its drawbacks. The Russians played fast and dirty. They’d attack where it hurts the most. Due to their undercover agent in her university, they knew exactly who she was. Every little detail from the timings she enters and exits the university to the car that comes to pick and drop her.

The Russians were smart, very smart. They knew the best way to hurt Charles was to hurt his girl. They knew kidnapping would not work as she was heavily guarded at all times. So they came up with a public declaration of war. They were going to attack her at her graduation ceremony, in front of everyone, and most importantly, Charles.

This was their way to send a message. Frankly, ever since y/n and Charles started dating, he was ignoring his priorities with the mafia and appointed most of the tasks to Kyviat, who turned out to be a traitor. Some may say Charles’s lack of attention caused him to lose the most important person in his life. Just as they called out her name, the first shots fired. Almost in an instant, Charles whipped his head so fast you could hear a bone crack. He knew this was planned. He prayed and hoped deep down it wasn’t a message for him. He knew Alonso’s daughter also went here and selfishly hoped it was for him.

All his prayers fell on deaf ears when he saw his precious angel falling, almost in slow motion, with her white dress that he loved oh so much turning ever so red with each passing second. He knew he messed up. He had so much love he still needed to show her. The engagement ring in his pocket felt like hot coal, burning him almost taunting him painfully. He had everything planned out, each moment, each step. He never expected her to be ripped out of his arms. He had destroyed homes and families.

He knew he had unpaid karma. And just when he started becoming a better person, he had to pay his karma in full. They say the day she bled out in his arms was the day hell froze all over again. Each of her deep and labored breaths haunted his soul for the rest of his life. He still had days where he could imagine her next to him. If people thought Charles was cruel before the shooting, they would be very wrong.

Seeing the love of his life lying still on a ventilator enraged a different type of devil in him. He hunted each and everyone involved in the shooting like he was hunting animals. He shot, stabbed, burned, bleached, skinned, and mutilated each and everyone. It was borderline psychotic. By day, a doting boyfriend in the ICU. By night, a cold-blooded killer on the loose.

Each morning when he returned, he would utter the same words over and over again, “ça aurait dû être moi, pas toi, ça aurait dû être moi, ma chérie, pas toi. je suis désolé je suis désolé.”

Charles had lost it. More than ever, his reign of terror only ended when she opened her eyes again. He never touched another gun or affiliated with the mafia ever again.

The both of them found a safe haven in the Swiss Alps, only returning to Monaco when everything was over, Charles becoming the most protective person ever known to have lived. His large hand placed on her ever prominent belly. Monaco saw the aftermath of what happens when you mess with Charles Leclercs wife. That was the only incident that ever involved y/n. Charles made sure of it after all she was his and he protected what was his. His overprotective nature plus his power made sure she was safe.

[etherealeowyn]

"Will you be my queen?" - Annatar x Fem Reader

Annatar comes back early, and Y/n's in for a surprise.

THIS CONTAINS SMUT - MINORS DNI

Word Count: 682

My requests are always open, so feel free to message me if you have an idea! I'll write for any character from The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, or The Rings of Power!

Raindrops endlessly fell from the sky, as a chill washed over Y/n’s bedroom chamber, making the woman pull her blankets closer to her body. A fire was flickering near the foot of the bed, but the warmth emitted did not compare to Annatar’s body heat.

He had left early to attend to some matters with Celebrimbor regarding forging the rings of power.

Naivety was not an attribute that Y/n possessed. She knew Annatar was not his true name; he was Sauron, the demi-god feared for ages. But this knowledge did not dissuade her love for him.

Even though logically, it should have.

But logic carried very little weight over matters of the heart.

Sitting up, Y/n pushed the covers off her body before swinging her legs over the side of the bed, wincing at the feeling of the cold stone beneath her bare feet. She walked over to the divider in the corner of the room designated as a changing space and began to slip on a thick velvet dress.

“There’s no need for you to put that on,” a man’s voice sounded, causing Y/n’s head to snap up from what she was doing.

A small blush crept onto her face as she recognized Annatar’s voice. She could see the silhouette of his frame, through the divider, illuminated by the burning fire.

She watched as his hand pushed the divider to the side, removing the barrier that separated the pair.

Looking up at him with anticipation prominent in her eyes, she felt her heart pound rapidly within her chest, wanting nothing more than for his skin to encounter hers. His fingers delicately pushed the garment from her shoulders, making it fall onto the ground in a heap. Annatar offered his hand to the woman, and she eagerly took it, stepping away and following him to the bed in the middle of the room.

“Sit,” he stated, his voice containing a well-balanced mixture of assertiveness and warmth.

She did as he said without hesitation, knowing everything he did for her was always in her best interest.

Using his calloused hands, Annatar spread open the woman’s legs, causing Y/n to fall back onto her elbows. The way that his long blond hair brushed the inside of her thighs before his mouth reached her clit, made her breath quicken, and she swore that she could feel electricity flowing through every part of her body.

There was no sorcery involved, but when he went down on her, it felt like time slowed down, and every touch, whether big or small, was amplified. He’d occasionally look up at her, eyes clouded, with a smirk playing on his lips as she squirmed in pleasure.

Her hair was sprawled out around her on the bed, slightly messy but perfect, nonetheless. He had hardly seen her like this, usually, in the public eye she was the epitome of put-together, making him feel mildly powerful that he was able to unravel her like this.

“S-Sauron,” she moaned his name as she finished, panting as beads of sweat adorned her forehead.

Y/n wasn’t expecting to let that name fall from her mouth, but she had a hard time calling him by his other names when this one seemed to fit him so well. Plus, her head felt like it was spinning, from the way that his tongue worked. Y/n knew that it was twisted to love someone like him, but at the same time, she felt so deeply connected to him that she couldn’t possibly run from him.

“I was not expecting you to say that, but I’m not surprised you figured it out, love. I always knew you were smart,” he spoke with a cocky smile.

Y/n sat up, struggling to form words, however, she let a smile brighten up her features.

“I could fill you in on everything later, but I just need to know, will you be my queen?” he asked, sloppily trailing kisses up her leg.

“Absolutely,” Y/n responded breathily, placing her finger underneath his chin and pointing it upwards so she could connect her lips to his.

[teencopandthesourwolf]

Stiles: Peter, do you like Johnny Cash songs?

Peter: What?

Stiles: Well, you fell into a burning ring of fire.

Stiles: You went down, down, down, and the flames they went higher.

Peter: Why, you evil little shit!

Peter: I knew there was a reason I liked you ;>

[narcissistshandler]

𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗠𝗘 𝗙𝗘𝗘𝗟

from the series of thoughts that I only have during the night: I really find it incredibly erotic to fuck a man who, for whatever reason, whether it be a cock ring, a chastity cage or just tiredness/stress, can't get hard. judge me, I don't care. top!male reader and bottom! geto suguru below, no specific warning, but this is a bit angst and dark. minors dni. if you haven't seen part one of season two or haven't read the manga this contains spoilers.

Suguru was tired. Exhausted to the point where he wouldn't even consider dragging himself to the bathroom and letting the icy water that threatened to freeze his bones help with the ever constant tension in his shoulders. The phantom taste of the cursed spirit that lingered in his mouth, consistent even when it had been days since he'd swallowed it. He wanted to vomit. Wanted to pass out under the stream of water. Wanted to sleep for hours at a time, not even considering waking up. It was easy to search for just one word: disappear.

Instead of all that though, he was seduced by your hungry eyes, by your deft fingers always touching him with mastery - and a gentleness that never failed to make him sick. You undressed him as you took his mouth in a deep, sweet kiss that erased the sourness and bitterness rising in his throat, not commenting on the deep, dark circles under his empty eyes, or the decreasing frequency of times he returned to what you called 'home'.

You trailed kisses down his neck and shoulders, your every hurried, warm movement giving away just how much you wanted him. And you didn't even point out loud that Suguru wasn't even hard for you.

"It's okay." Suguru opened his mouth to say, using all his remaining strength to touch your wrist where for the last five minutes you've tried to bring him to hardness. Suguru really wanted you. He couldn't think of a better way to take away the darkness that roamed the corners of his mind with memories of the past rather than with your cock inside him. But he knew he wouldn't get hard, It didn't matter how much you tried.

Suguru spread his legs wider around your hips and apparently the look he gave you - desire beneath the exhaustion - was enough. You warmed up the lube and started prepare him with your fingers.

The first finger went in easily, there was nothing but temporary discomfort, yet Suguru felt as if his skin were on fire, the stretching sensation tensing his legs. Familiar noises began to fill the room; three fingers pushed their way inside him and Suguru thought he was close to losing his mind. It felt good, very good. Your fingers opening inside him, making a wet noise each time they moved in and out of him, driving deep, rubbing his prostate. Suguru still wasn't hard, but he didn't care and he knew you didn't either.

He opened his mouth to beg for your cock, his throat dry. Only ineligible noises came out, a jumble of letters that didn't make sense along with your name. "Dema me ur psua [name]," he muttered. "[name] [name] [name]."

Somehow you got it, how could you not when Suguru was writhing in the sheets, feet tucked into the mattress working to sink against your fingers?

The tip of your cock pressed against the taut edge and began to thrust inside; thick, perfect. Suguru's eyes fell closed, a sound that was a mixture of wail and sigh left his lips and his back collapsed against the mattress, as if all the remaining strength left him.

There was barely any burn, but he still felt every nerve in his body ignite with the sensation of your length pushing its way inside him. The tight walls made way for you, his hole molding itself around you. Suguru searched for your lips like a starving man in the desert.

The sound of the waves as in a distant dream faded, taking with it the flashing memories of Riko Amanai, deeper, the smiling face of Haibara beckoning to him faded away into the darkness under his closed eyelids, only the wet sound of skins meeting was left, the grunts that came out of your mouth, the feel of your fingers digging into his thigh, the reality.

The shadows are gone, only an inexplicable calm remains.

Suguru's cock was limp against his stomach without any sign of coming out of it, even when you once again took him in your hand and started to stimulate him. It felt good, so Suguru didn't tell you to stop. He surrendered to you, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his pale skin as you began to move, in and out of him, each time faster and stronger until you were fucking him mercilessly into the mattress in an uncomfortable position that pressed his knees close to his head.

One of your hands moved up his taut stomach and began pinching his nipples hard, eliciting groans from him. Suguru knew that the next day his nipples would be sensitive, his hole swollen and red, but he didn't care, in fact he wanted this desperately: to carry the marks of your belonging on his body, so that he could remember the heat, violence and control of your touches.

His hole tightened with rhythmic contractions, the feeling of being full, of having you filling him to the brim was too much. Suguru gasped against your mouth, barely finding the will to pull away from you, even if it was a mere kiss. He pulled your lower lip between his teeth and urged you to do the same, to take all your frustrations and tiredness out on his body. He needed this.

Words weren't necessary.

Your teeth sank into his shoulder hard enough to draw blood, your thrusts became faster and deeper, nails digging into his skin. Suguru knew how to make you hurt him and he knew you wouldn't stop if he didn't tell you to. All of him craved the pain and anything else you wanted to give him. The admission was a dark and heavy veil: Suguru was yours to take and he was broken.

Desperately, he mentally begged: please hurt me more. Hit me, scratch me, bite me, pull my hair harder, fuck me until I bleed, fill me up until I taste you in my throat. Make me feel. Remind me that I'm not alone.

[boybandbaby]

I Wish (Evan Buckley x 118!Reader)

word count: 965

warnings: angst, fire

You started dating Buck only 5 months into working at the 118. He was so sweet and flirty, you instantly swooned over him. Not just his blue eyes, beefy build, and bright smile, but his passion for the job and care for others. As a probie, he unnecessarily would help you carry equipment that was on the heavier side even though you were more than capable of carrying it. He would save you a seat next to him at the dinner table and even serve your plate for you. You needed a napkin? Buck was already receiving a stack for you. You needed help loading up your gear? He was standing behind you pulling the straps over your shoulders. With a small smile and thank you, you slowly fell for him. That was almost a year ago now and everything was suddenly turning to shit.

At the start of the relationship and even a short few weeks ago things were great. Amazing. Exciting. Loving. Now, there was a constant revolving door of arguments.

You and Buck used to spend your days off at each other’s apartments, crafting new recipes or having movie marathons. Now, the only contact you had with him was at work. During calls you remained professional and when the shift ended you went your separate ways. The others could sense something was wrong and you both were reminded of the promise you made to Bobby when you disclosed the relationship: keep it professional and leave any drama at home.

The fights all started because Buck was becoming reckless again. Even after getting crushed by a truck and struck by lightening, he continued to act as if he was unstoppable. The call that did it was a tough one for everyone that left several people injured, luckily no one dead, and put a strain on your relationship.

A small bakery caught fire and even though Bobby instructed everyone to evacuate, Buck swore he saw movement in the building. That, mixed with a woman screaming “Shelby!” repeatedly, Buck ignored Bobby’s orders and your pleas to stay put. The glass of the windows had shattered and the flames got bigger but Buck exited the building coughing and covered in soot. In his arms was a small kitten, perfectly unharmed. As Buck smiled, handing the woman her fur baby, you hopped in the engine with a slam of the door. Eddie just gave Buck a look that said “you’re in for it tonight.” A heated argument ensued where you told Buck he was being reckless and disrespectful to not only Bobby but the team. Shortly after, you found yourself not being able to be paired with Buck and his antics during calls which Bobby accommodated.

Two days out from your one year anniversary, you decided to mend things and talk through your problems. You didn’t want to spend the celebration of your one year angry at each other and you certainly didn’t want to continue in a relationship where the love burned quick and bright and died just the same. You asked Buck to come in early to talk before your shift but before you could say anything, Buck had decided to end things.

You’re standing in the kitchen, hands braced against the counter. Your ears are ringing and your eyes are burning with unshed tears.

“You’re serious?” You whisper when he doesn’t elaborate on his previous two words. It’s over.

“I just don’t see how this is going to work when you can’t trust me. You can’t trust that I can do my job. You’re constantly breathing down my neck.” Buck uses his hand to express his frustrations.

“I care about you, Evan. I’m worried for you. You constantly throw yourself at the most dangerous situations without thinking.” You wrap your arms around yourself.

“That’s part of the job.” He argues.

“No it’s isn’t.” You shake your head. “Not when there’s others who can do it or when Bobby gives you orders and you deliberately disobey.”

“But no one can do it like I can.” He lays a hand on his chest.

“So this is a pride thing?” You angrily squint at him, tilting your head.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Why wouldn’t I understand? Help me understand.”

“You’ve never put yourself in a situation where you almost died. You work comfortably. You do what you’re asked and that’s it. You don’t go above and beyond.”

“Everyday we put our lives on the line. I may not run into fires or scale buildings but I do the same work as you. I choose to use my head and be safe and follow orders. So that makes me what? A bad firefighter?” You drop your hands by your sides, clenching your fists.

Buck runs a hand through his hair, “I just need my space. I need to be able to work without you hovering over my every move and doubting me.”

“I don’t doubt you Buck.” You cry. “You’re one of the best out there.”

“Lately, it hasn’t felt like you really believe that. You’re holding me back.” He leans against one of the high top tables.

“You know Buck, I was actually hoping to work things out but it seems like you’ve made up your mind. I thought your impulsive actions were just limited to the job but clearly it’s a trait you have with everything you do even relationships. Sometimes you’re so careless, I wish I cared less.”

“Well now you don’t have to worry about me and I don’t have to worry about you nagging.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

You blink, watery tears streaming down your face. Buck gives you one last look before heading down to the lockers. As soon as he’s out of sight, his body racks with sobs as he leans against the lockers.

[delfiore]

—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY (5/5)

pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader

synopsis: barcelona sets its sights on the champions league; things between you and ona unfold in the way they were always going to.

word count: 5.9k

a/n: LAST PART LAST PART WOOOO ALSO THIS GIF IS KILLING ME

PART I, PART II, PART III, PART IV

Barcelona won its first game back from winter break. It wasn’t the first one this season, but everyone was glad the team managed to hold onto the momentum over break. Though you didn’t score, you felt like you started to understand how to pass, how to move, how to bring the ball forward effectively the Barça way.

Things were finally starting to look up for you at your new club.

In training one day, you were paired up with Aitana for a short passing drill, and she quickly took the opportunity to inquire about you and Ona.

“No.”

“What?”

“I’m not telling you!”

“¿¡Por qué no?!” Aitana exclaimed, earning a few turns of heads from several teammates around. “I was the one to tell you to say something, no?”

You blew raspberry and looked down at the ball rolling between your feet. In truth, you haven’t talked to Ona about that night. Unlike the last time, though, there wasn’t an air of animosity around it. You wanted to kiss her really badly, but you also knew starting something then wasn’t the best idea. You and her both needed to concentrate on getting the team through this slump, and it was more crucial than ever that you did.

“You make it really hard for me, you know that?” You had told her, a quiet confession.

You remembered her smiling. “You don’t make it easy for me either. Every time I see you, I try so hard not to pull you to me and kiss you.”

You chuckled and dropped your head, hiding the warmth creeping up your neck. “Well, try harder.” You brushed her nose with the tip of your finger and stood up. “Our team needs us. We can’t . . . be distracted.”

“Can’t we be selfish just once?” Her tone was light and teasing, but when she leaned back against the bed, there was a darker sincerity in her eyes. Her elbows supported her weight, as her toned legs dangled off the bed. You had almost scoffed at how good she looked, and how much you wanted to pounce on her.

Swiftly, you snatched a pillow and threw it at her, earning an offended gasp from the girl. You watched her face shift, then, when you leaned down and kissed her cheek. Pulling back, you smirked. “Happy?”

Grabbing your pajamas which were draped over a chair, you quickly got out of the room and headed to the shower where, under the running water, you repeatedly told yourself to snap out of it. That night, you still fell asleep in the same bed as her. In the morning, your head was nuzzled in her neck, and your arm wrapped firmly around her waist.

You asked how long she had been staring at you, watching you sleep. Ona couldn’t resist a smirk, telling you she didn’t want to wake you up.

You had hoped she couldn’t feel how fast your heart was beating, but then again your chest was pressed into her side. You felt the overwhelming urge to pull away, alarm bells ringing in your head to sober up from your slumber and pull away. You were controlled by an invisible fear. In all of your nightly interactions with the many people that have warmed your bed, you had never felt so vulnerable than in that moment before, or since.

You could see her freckles so clearly from here. There were plenty, like a constellation of stars, but the only difference was you would lay there and count each and every one of them. Slowly, you brushed the pad of your thumb over them, and she let you, closing her eyes.

“Stardust,” you whispered quietly, feeling her skin under your finger.

Ona’s heart burned like a thousand fires watching you as you admired her, three heavy words weighing down on the tip of her tongue.

They went unsaid when you got up to go brush your teeth, over the table at breakfast, when her mom hugged you both goodbye and even when she dropped you off at your place a few hours later.

The team was playing away in Valencia on Saturday night. Right after that, on Wednesday, you would be playing the second Champions League quarterfinal leg in London. It was going to be a stressful week, but you needed to get your head in it because this week would determine the rest of the season in the league and in the prestigious European competition.

When Valencia led 1-0 at halftime, the more the clock ran out the more the team was desperate to win, or at least get a point back.

Alexia was holding the ball, as everyone moved over to Valencia’s side of the pitch; the latter was now only concerned with defending their three points. You waited for the defenders around to get distracted and made a run for it. Fridolina received the ball and fed it to you, but the angle was too narrow and the ball bounced off the net.

Chances were coming, and you were getting much closer to an equalizer.

A corner ensued, and you were at the near-post. The ball was sent in straight towards the goalkeeper, but you thought you could manage it. The goalkeeper was beelining for the ball and headed straight towards you with her fists out ready to punch the ball away, but you were faster. 1-1.

The adrenaline rushed to your head as you ran to celebrate with your teammates.

Only when the ball was rolling again did you feel lightheaded, and were on the ground before you knew it. The referee’s whistle rang out, and several of her teammates rushed over to you, as did Ona.

She saw the way your steps slowed as you were walking back to the middle, your head hung low. The way you fell to the ground, Ona could only compare it to a jet running out of fuel and free-falling. It was as if your legs gave out under you.

“Y/N? Joder, Y/N. Fisio!” She knelt beside you, yelling to the sidelines.

Thankfully, you were able to move, turning to your side, and hiding your face in the grass.

“It’s okay, Y/N. They’re coming,” Ona breathed heavily and squeezed your shoulder.

You have had collisions that knocked the air out of you before, but this time you knew it was much more severe than that. You suddenly didn’t quite know where you were, or why all these people were gathering around and peering down at you. All you knew was there was one face that made it all okay, one that you reached for and never wanted to let go.

There were physios coming to check the reflexes in your eyes; you were fine, it was just really, really bright. You were helped to sit up, seeing stars as you did, like cartoon characters when they suffer concussions. You looked over to that beautiful face, the one that appeared in your dreams like a plague, and you were okay. Though you didn’t know what was happening, Ona made you feel brave.

You regained clearheadedness after a few minutes, the symptoms had seemingly subsided. You signaled that you could continue (you really thought you could) but Esmee was already getting ready on the sideline to come in for you.

“Y/N, you did well today,” Ona approached you and wrapped her arm around your shoulder. “You were brilliant. We’ll take care of this.”

She said and gave you a kiss on the side of your head before sending you off with a pat on your back. You smiled gracefully at her and walked towards the bench. The unheard of happened then, as you made out applause ringing out from the Barcelona section of the stands, as people stood out and whistled for you.

You spent the rest of the game in the dressing room, watching the game from a TV. The lights had been dimmed for you to lessen the side effects of the concussion. When the rest of the team returned victorious, you cracked a smile. Your teammates surrounded you to check on your well-being, one in particular was the quickest to sit next to you.

“They clapped for me when I came off,” you said with a smile. “The fans.”

“Yes, they did,” Ona grasped your hand. “Because you deserved it.”

Barcelona came back from a deficit to win 3-2, earning a crucial three points in the title race.

“Arsenal is a very different team now than when we met them last, girls,” Jonatan stood at the front of the conference room. He played the next clip. “The one thing we’ll have to keep in mind is that they prefer passing and progressive carrying. They’ll have holding midfielders that will transition the formation from defending to attacking, so Williamson, Little, Wälti. Whoever that pivot player ends up being, if we cut her off on the high press, we cut off the supply going forward.”

As Coach was explaining tactics, you quietly turned around toward where Ona was sitting. The moment her gaze landed on you, the corner of her lips lifted. You mirrored her smile, and looked back at the projector, pulling your hoodie up past your lips to hide your cheeks heating up.

After the briefing, you walked towards the dining room to have lunch when your phone buzzed with a notification. You had just received an Instagram DM from an account that you hadn’t looked at in a long time, mainly because there would be nothing to see, as you were blocked.

Hi! I heard you’ll be in town this week for a game. Any chance we could go grab a coffee and chat? Sent 11:04am

“Hey, you coming to lunch?” Ona asked.

“Oh, yeah. I’ll be there in a second,” you said quickly and typed a reply.

On Tuesday, a couple of hours after you landed in London, you made your way towards the little café the address of which you had been sent. Just before entering the coffee shop, you exhaled sharply and wiped your palms on your pants before pulling the door open. Leena was already seated at a table, a cup in front of her.

“Hey,” you hugged her. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too, Y/N,” she wrapped her arms around you and squeezed you tightly. “You look good.”

You let out a snort. “Yeah, Barcelona tends to do that to ya.”

You sat on the opposite side of the table, after going to order a small coffee.

“I heard you got a concussion last game,” Leena asked, concerned.

“Oh, that.” You waved it off. “I’m fine. I’ve seen better days, but it’s all a part of it. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing good,” Leena smiled. “I . . . I had to step away to . . . put things into perspective.”

You nodded slowly and sighed. “Leena, the way I handled things, I’m just so deeply ashamed of it. I’m really sorry and I hope you can forgive me.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. I should have known better than to pursue someone who isn’t ready yet. I tend to do that.”

“Still, I mean . . . That’s not who I am, and I never meant to hurt you or lead you on like that.”

Quickly leaning forward to grasp your hand, she whispered, “It’s okay”. You nodded and smiled gratefully. Leena never made you feel less than whenever you bore your emotions to her, and it was no exception this time.

You started chatting about work, learning that Leena wanted to go back to school for a master’s in cinematography. You told her about your new club, and how much harder it was to live up to expectations than you thought. By the end of your little meeting, you had told her pretty much everything that was going on within the past year.

You said goodbye about an hour later, but not before asking if she wanted to come to the game the following night. “Sure,” she said. “Should be fun.”

Leaving the café with a smile, you called an Uber back to your hotel just in time for dinner with the team, where Ona was already waiting for you in the lobby.

“Hey,” you said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“I was waiting for you.” The girl quickly ascended from her seat on the couch. “I texted but you didn’t answer, so I got worried.”

“Oh,” you pulled out your phone to see said unread messages from Ona. “I’m sorry. I was meeting up with a friend, and I usually put my phone on silent for stuff like that.”

“I see,” Ona chewed on her lower lip. “Well, it’s dinner time. Come.”

As you walked, you looked down at your joined hands that she nonchalantly initiated, and blushed. You ignored the knowing look a couple of your teammates sent your way when you walked into the hotel dining room.

“Hey, good luck out there today,” you found Ona in the dressing room before the game, and decided to offer your support.

“Thanks. Are you cleared to play today?”

“Yeah, later though. Just to be sure,” you explained.

Though you were cleared by the physios to travel to London with the team, Jonatan wanted to be sure that you weren’t overexerting yourself by playing the 90 minutes, but you were assured that you would be subbed on in the second half.

Ona nodded tentatively. “Hey, Y/N. I just wanted to say—“

“Y/N!”

The voice outside the dressing room made you turn around.

“Leena, hi! You made it!”

Then you were gone, walking out and greeting the woman she saw with you in Ibiza. Ona clenched her jaw, listening to your animated conversation in the hallway, not she had no right to infringe upon your other relationships. But she didn’t know where you stood with Leena, nor where she stood with you, and it made her nervous.

She had spent the last few months trying to make you feel her love, hoping that you would answer her and give her your heart.

You were you, though, and maybe she would never be enough to make you commit. She had messed it up before, and while you had forgiven her, you had made no effort to progress past a friendship.

She had been ready to take on Arsenal mere minutes before, now she felt dejected and beyond embarrassed.

It was an easy win for Barcelona. You managed to score again, a screamer from outside the box, and the fans went wild for your seemingly return to form.

After the game walked towards where Ona was near the stands, greeting fans, and tapped her on the shoulder.

“Nice work today,” you said.

Ona only glanced at you shortly with a small smile before turning back to the fans to sign their shirts.

Your smile faded for a split second, but it returned when Leena approached you. You didn’t realize Ona was sneaking glares at the back of your head, wishing you would just notice how desperate she was to get you alone.

That night, you were back in the hotel room you shared with Patri when you heard a knock at the door.

“Hi,” you couldn’t hide the slight inflection in your voice when you discovered that the person on the other side of the door wasn’t Patri coming back from Claudia’s room where she said she would be, but Ona.

“Hi,” she mumbled, her hands hidden in the pockets of her hoodie. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” you said, stepping aside to let her in. You caught a whiff of her shampoo as she walked past you, and the comfortable way in which she dressed suddenly made your heart beat wildly.

“Are you feeling well?” You rubbed your hands together nervously, an impending question already burned into the back of your mind. “You were just quiet after the game, and I wasn’t sure whether you’d hurt yourself.”

Ona pulled on her sleeves, and timidly sat at the edge of your bed, swinging her legs back and forth. “Just wanted to come see you,” she shrugged.

You hated not being able to read her, not knowing what she was thinking. You guessed your relationship has always been like that, hiding how you really felt and continuing this façade you both had decided was the only thing that could work.

You didn’t know, but what you knew was you were tired of pretending.

“What are we to each other?” Her question tore you from your thoughts.

Well, that was certainly one way to do it. You were still standing in the middle of the room, unsure of where to go or sit.

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” You answered. “We support each other, we have each other’s backs.”

“That girl you were with, are you seeing her?” Her quiet voice, in addition to the slight frown she sported made her so endearing. You hadn’t seen her so open, so vulnerable ever since the night you spent with her after Spain lost out on the Euros. But maybe then you might have missed all the signs.

“No,” you shook your head. “We’re friends. She helped me a lot after everything went down between us.”

She nodded, looking away. You still didn’t know what she was thinking, and it was driving you crazy.

“Why? Are you jealous?” You smirked, wanting to lighten the mood, but the despairing look on her face remained.

Feeling bold, you took a seat next to her on the bed. “What is it, Ona?”

She drew a breath, still refusing to look at you and opting to look at your hands instead. “I don’t want to be just friends.”

You let the silence hang because you weren’t sure if those words actually just left her mouth.

They did, because she followed up, “I want to have you to myself. I want you all the time. Every time I see you, it’s like I can’t function until you talk to me. I don’t know where we stand and it’s honestly tearing me apart. I know I sound clingy and pathetic, but I think I’m in love with you.”

You heard her repeat the last part under her breath, as if affirming to herself, as if finally saying it out loud was the hardest thing to do.

Your heart was hammering in its cage. You held her gaze when she looked up, her eyes were dull and sad and lost, despite having just won a Champions League match.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words?” You cracked a tiny smile. “Almost five years. That day when we played against each other for the first time in Manchester. I singled you out, I pushed your buttons because I wanted to get your attention from the moment we met. I wanted you to notice me because I liked you.”

You knew it was a selfish thing to do, but it was the only way you knew for sure that her eyes were on you. And on you they were.

Ona perked up, grinning softly. “Really?”

“Really.”

Her pinkie was hooked with yours at your side. “I want to try us. I promise I won’t let you down this time,” she said quietly, and instead of looking away, she held your gaze firmly.

“Okay.” There was nothing else.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded and brought your hand up to glide over her cheek lightly.

Her lips parted slightly. You could see the way her chest rose and fell before she lunged at you, cupping your jaw and pressing her lips against yours.

You let out a quiet groan at the sensation of her bruising kiss. You let her do whatever she wanted, even when she shoved you down on the bed and got on top of you, kissing, touching, and feeling everywhere, you let her, because it had been too long.

At some point, you had managed to flip her over, keeping eye contact as you kissed down along her body. She always liked it when you took your time worshipping her as you did now, holding your gaze and encouraging you to keep going. Once in a while, she would throw her head back and mumble breathless profanities in her native tongue, giving you a good look at her defined jawline.

You might have known her body inside and out from the time you spent with her, but this time it felt different. There was love in every tug, every kiss, every look she gave you. You found yourself in a trance and let your body tangle with hers in ways you were too afraid to have done before; afraid it was too affectionate, too intimate, too personal.

By the time you were done, she was whimpering, her eyes closed shut, and her skin was damp and hot to the touch.

Resting your chin on her stomach, you watched her come down. When she finally opened her eyes, it took one look for the both of you to burst out into laughter.

Your laughs died down, and suddenly you felt shy again. As if having read your mind, Ona pulled you closer and pressed a kiss to your lips.

“When we’re back in Barcelona, I’m taking you out on a date,” she whispered.

A couple of hours later, Patri, upon entering the room, decided to grab her charger and return to Claudia and Ona’s room. She found the both of you sound asleep, tangled up in bed together, and decided to leave you be.

“But why do I have to do the press conference? Why can’t Caro or Alexia do it?” You groaned. “No one cares what I have to say.”

“Of course they do,” Toni responded. “Y/N, I might be biased, but you are one of the best players of this half of the season in the team, if not the league. You’re Barcelona’s new gem.”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” you muttered.

“People will want to hear from you. Plus, it’s good—“

“—publicity, yeah, I know.” You hunched over and adjusted your position on the couch. “Ughhh . . .” You groaned loudly and dragged your hands down your face. “Fine.”

Toni proceeded to run you over things you should say, things you shouldn’t say, things you should absolutely avoid at all costs. You half-listened to the rest of it because you felt the couch dip beside you, and a sneaky hand creeping up and down your back.

You ended the phone call with another sigh. The hand that calmed you proceeded to inch towards your nape, caressing the skin there.

“I thought you liked doing press.”

“No one likes doing press,” you grumbled.

You looked up from your moping and over your shoulder, and the sight of Ona made you smile. She always managed to make you forget about everything wrong in the world, and crave the warmth of her touch. When she wore one of her snuggly hoodies as she did now, the heat under the fabric made her chest and embrace extra warm.

“You’ll do great, hermosa,” she held you close to her, giggling at the feeling of your face buried deep in her neck. “Besides, what is it you always say? ‘All in a day’s work’?”

You grinned and kissed her cheek. “I hate it when you use my shtick against me.”

“No, you love it,” Ona kissed you quickly, but you held her by the collar of her sweatshirt and savored her lips a little longer.

“I was thinking,” you said slowly. “Since you already know the code for the front door, and you’re always here anyway, why don’t you move in?”

Her eyebrows raised in surprise. For a split second, the silence caused a familiar pang in your heart from all the times she had turned you down. There was a moment when you imagined the worst to happen, that she would run for the hills again and leave you to pick up the pieces by yourself. But it was different this time; the circumstances were different, you both were different.

“No pressure at all. I just—It was just a suggestion—“

“Okay,” she breathed quietly. “But after the season is over.”

You let a wide grin spread across your face. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Ona smiled and tapped your nose lovingly. “Now, come on. I’ll help you practice for your big press conference.”

You groaned and sunk back into the couch, but you knew you would be able to distract her from putting you through this torture if you picked your moments right. There were no more barriers between the two of you, and kisses were expendable.

“Hello, Y/N. My question to you is, ‘How do you judge your opponent coming into this match, and are you confident that you’ll be walking home with your first Champions League after tomorrow?’” “I think that Chelsea is a formidable team, there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind about that. As for if I think we can win; yes, I think so. I’m confident in my teammates’ abilities, and I know that I’ll be giving 110% into tomorrow’s match. So, yes, we are going into this match to win.” “Obviously, you’re surrounded by World Cup finalists at Barça. What is it like playing with some of the more experienced and decorated players on this team in particular?” “It’s a wonderful environment for me as a young professional in this sport, to have that support system in my own club. I enjoy every second that I get to play alongside and learn from my teammates. No matter who it is, finalist or not, I’ve been able to learn from everyone I play with.” “You’ve had an admittedly rocky start to your spell at Barcelona, but have since improved a lot from what we’ve seen in the return leg of the season. Do you think you have fully integrated yourself into the Barça system?” “As a player, I’m very fortunate to have had the club’s, the coach’s, and my teammates’ trust as I familiarized myself with the system. I will say, I’m much more confident in my role at the club now than I was at the start of the season, and I just hope to continue to do well with the team, and we’ll see how it goes.”

All 50,000 spectators of the Estadio José Alvade roused into cheers as the whistle blew. Chelsea got the ball rolling in motion, and, already, some of its finest attackers planted themselves deep into Barcelona’s defense, waiting for their moment to reap their rewards.

It was a long back-and-forth for the next 20 minutes, and both teams were not willing to risk it in the opening minutes of the game. But then a wild attempt by Lauren James from outside the box left the ball unattended after Sandra pushed it out. Sam Kerr did what she always did best, and tapped it in. 0-1.

“Shit,” you muttered, seeing Jonatan shouting to Aitana and Patri to change tactics.

You hoped Chelsea couldn’t pick up on the franticness at which Barcelona picked up the ball again. All four players of the backline were on Chelsea’s side of the pitch, Irene, being the deepest, also just barely skirting above the halfway line.

The possession paid off though, as after a long period of tiki-taka, you found an opening for Mariona, who took the shot and sent it past Zećira Mušović into the net. 1-1.

If you could choose, you would always prefer counterattacks over possession plays, in which you could use your speed and dribble to explode; your opponents always feared it when you did. But possession was how Jonatan wanted the team to play then, and Chelsea must have anticipated that. Ève Périsset won the ball back inside the box and lobbed it across the pitch to Guro Reiten, who made the run far before anyone could catch up to her. Mapi was fast, but at her fastest she was still trailing behind her, watching powerlessly as Guro glided past Sandra coming out and passed the ball into an empty net. 1-2.

You could see some of your teammates’ spirits crumbling. Mapi was cursing under her breath as she hid her face under her shirt.

Your eyes landed on Ona walking back to the halfway line, hyping your teammates up. There was a time when she would be doing to her own teammates after you scored against her. You thought it was selfish of you to feel glad that she was doing it for you now.

“Come on, Y/N,” she clapped her hands a few times. “We got this. We’re almost there.”

She was right, you’ve suffered worse deficits, and you wouldn’t be where you were if you didn’t help your team emerge victorious from them.

The dressing room was still as the night at halftime, only the sound of cleats shuffling and the occasional water bottle caps closing were heard.

You sat in your designated spot, taking deep inhales to catch your breath, slapping your teammates’ hands as they walked in. You low-fived Ingrid before she made her way over to where Mapi sat, her head hanging low in her hand.

The team hadn’t been playing well since the beginning of the match. Maybe it was the underestimation of Chelsea’s abilities or their opening goal that caught everyone off-guard. Whatever it was, the team hasn’t recovered.

“Come on, girls,” Jonatan said in the dressing room. “We’re down by one. One. We’ve come back from worse.”

He proceeded to go over tactics again, this time using the wingers as the main force of attack. Since Chelsea would most likely park the bus now that they were in the lead, he wanted to take initiative and penetrate the defense, only the one thing you were very good at.

Ona sat down next to you, huffing a breath and leaning back against the wall. Her eyes fluttered close, and her cheeks were flushed. You thought about running your hand along her face down her neck were you in private, instead, you squeezed her knees and offered her a smile when she opened her eyes again.

“You okay?” How selfish of her to ask if you were okay when if anything, she was the only person holding this team together at this point. Out of everyone during the first 45 minutes, Ona had done her job to the very best of her abilities, and it was a lifeline to the team.

When it was time to return to the pitch, you walked to her with your heart in your hands. “Ona,” you touched her arm, “I love you.”

Your heart hammered as the corner of her lips pulled up, her brows twitching with a sympathetic look. “I love you too,” she leaned into you, “very much.”

You hoped no one noticed how wide you were smiling too, but you also hoped they did. You wanted to shout it out loud for all 50,000 people in the stadium to hear how much love you had for Ona.

“I wish you had told me that earlier, so I can kiss you,” she said.

“Later,” you grinned. “You can kiss me as much as you want.”

Summer never lasted as long as you wanted it to. Gone were the days of sunny beachside margaritas, and bonfire nights at local bars. Ona had taken you to a secluded spot off the coast of Morocco, and for two weeks straight, it was beach, drinking, the occasional sightseeing, and lots of sex. It was the first time the two of you were able to truly be alone without any distractions after you started seeing each other officially, and you couldn’t be happier that it happened the way it did.

You had been back with the team for a couple of weeks, and as much as you missed your much-needed summer vacation, you missed playing more.

“Behind you! Here, here!”

“Body language, girls! Let’s go!”

You sat on the grass, catching your breath after your first successful practice of the season.

“Getting up any time soon, partner?” You heard Ona call next to you before a water bottle was tossed onto your legs.

You grabbed the bottle and squirted some water onto her legs, but she remained unfazed with that stupid smirk on her face. “Ooh, recreating last night’s activities now, aren’t we? You know it should be more than that.”

You let out a laugh and pulled her down next to you. “Since when do you make the dirty jokes?”

“Since I started spending way too much time with you, apparently.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No,” Ona’s voice lowered as she leaned in, “not in the slightest.”

“Ey, tórtolitos (lovebirds)!” Aitana’s voice rang out. “Coach has an announcement to make. Vamos!”

You sighed. “Remind me why telling the team that we’re dating was a good idea again?”

“For one, it would stop all the pestering,” Ona pecked your lips and stood up before offering a hand. “Come on, tórtola. Time waits for no one, not even for new Champions League winners.”

You didn’t expect things to turn out the way they did when you first saw her across the pitch years ago, but you were glad that they did, and better than you could have ever hoped.

You took Ona’s hand gingerly, swinging it back and forth, getting used to the feeling, because you intended on having it with you forever. If Ona came with it too, that's fine by you, you supposed.

The Athletic: A Star Is Born — Y/N Y/L/N’s Barcelona Start and Road to First Champions League “Y/N Y/L/N is the kind of player every club would benefit from having,” said former Manchester City captain Vincent Kompany in the summer of 2020, days before news of Y/L/N’s signing was announced. “She is a star in the making.” Y/L/N came up within the ranks of Portland Thorns before getting picked up at Man City, helping the club to its first-ever WUCL participation. But it was at Barcelona that she was able to realize her potential. And then, in the 94th of the Champions League final, she scored and sealed a third European championship for Barcelona. After a tumultuous season which sees Barcelona barely clinch the league title for the sixth year in a row, Y/N Y/L/N emerged a key player at La Blaugrana, a sure-fire Ballon d’Or contender in October, and one of the most prolific forwards within the game—and she’s only 23. […]”

a/n: WOOP WOOP!! we made it guys, we've reached the end. if you've read everything up until now, i sincerely thank you for coming along on this journey of self-indulgence lol. we'll say goodbye to y/n and ona and let them ride off into the sunset and continue to slay at barcelona. once again, thank you for reading, more woso fics coming soon! for now, delfiore over and out 🫡

[wishcamper]

Nessian Week Day 1 - Banter

For our first day of @nessianweek here's a little drabble of our favorite couple doing what they do best.

They flirt. They fight. They fuck. You know the drill.

You can read it here or on ao3!

Win Lose or Draw

Cassian and Nesta take a vacation to Day, where a lot more ends up in their mouths than they bargained for.

CW: consensual sexual content

“I fucking dare you.”

“You think I won’t?”

The scorpion dangled from Nesta’s fingers by a claw, its gleaming body dusted with spices so potent they made Cassian’s eyes water from across the picnic table.

“I think you’re stalling. Take a bite, Lady Death.”

“You go first, Lord of Bloodshed, if you’re so eager,” she snapped, stabbing a finger at the jar of strange, grayish clumps suspended in brine in front of him. Knowing Nesta, they were probably some poor creature’s testicles. 

“I would, but it’s the courteous thing to let the lady go first, sweetheart.”

The bazaar in Day was bustling with activity around them, having found a corner amongst the brightly-colored tents to tuck into with their haul, escaping the burning eye of the sun. They’d each chosen a few things for the other to try, and the deep-fried scorpion was Cassian’s final challenge to Nesta. She’d already housed an inky-veined sheep's milk cheese and a fruit that smelled of rotting meat with nothing but a brief shudder and a prim smack of her lips.

“Suddenly he cares about courtesy. Do I eat the stinger too?”

“If you want to do it right.”

Not long after they’d officially gotten together, Cassian found out that he could get his mate to eat almost anything with a little goading. It all started with a mountain fig soaked in Illyrian moonshine he’d tried to warn her off of at the equinox festival. He’d been captivated by the way she popped it in her mouth in one go, face screwing up against the burn that felled even the fiercest warriors, fighting with every grind of her teeth against the urge to spit it out. 

When she finally swallowed, she looked just as triumphant as she did when she swallowed something else, and Cassian had been unable to help himself ever since.

 It was simple, really, when he thought about it. Nesta liked to win. He liked to watch her win. And so it became a little game between them.

He heard her noise of displeasure over the chatter of other shoppers and Nesta scrunched her nose, surveying the scorpion from all angles. “And what would you know about doing it right?”

“Seemed pretty clear to you last night when you were begging me to -”

“Cassian Archeron, I swear -”

He winked, crossing his arms over his chest in a way he knew emphasized the muscles in his shoulders, the same ones she’d clung to the night before when she’d most definitely been begging.

“I’m just trying to jog your memory, Nes, don’t get defensive.” He patted her hand in as dickish a way as he could, knowing it would make her see red. “It’s okay if you’re worried about gagging and making a fool of yourself.”

They’d come to Day on vacation a dozen times, and he never got tired of the way she lit up when they traveled, how she loved the newness, the adventure. It made him want to relinquish all his duties and spend forever taking her to every far-flung corner of the world, his beautiful wife, who might be currently plotting his murder.

Nesta smiled at him now, the garnets he’d bought her years ago in Rask glinting at her ears. But instead of the rush of victory Cassian felt panic slide down his spine. He’d seen that smile countless times across the training ring, her deadly calm before the strike.

“You know I don’t gag,” she purred, and his brain went fuzzy, thoughts fizzling out. Which she probably knew would happen, just like she knew how it loosened his tongue when she talked like this. He leaned in close so the snake-eyed fae at the table beside them couldn’t overhear.

“You do if I want you to.”

“Is that an order, General?” Silver rolled across her eyes, that deadly fire. “I don’t take kindly to those.”

“Liar.”

He was digging his own grave but he didn’t care, the zing of chemistry bouncing between them. Nesta’s foot slid up his leg beneath the table, hooking around the back of his calf.

“Careful, my love,” she said. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

On the bench opposite him, she was the portrait of a lady, perfectly composed in her pale yellow gown that flowed over her freckled shoulders like liquid sunlight. But when he felt the toe of her shoe dig into his leg, he knew she was positioning herself to dislocate his knee. 

Mother, he loved her. And he’d never been good at following directions, anyway.

“Take a bite.”

“No.”

“Take a bite, Nesta.”

Her smoky eyes flashed as she surveyed the scorpion once more, the wraith-pepper flakes and batter encrusting its sharp pincers. “You’re sure this won’t poison me.”

“I’m hurt, sweetheart. You really think I’d endanger you?”

“Depends how far up Rhysand’s ass you are.”

“Okay, I earned that one,” he conceded, grinning. The shame of his early failures still lingered, but they’d come so far. Enough that she felt comfortable joking about it now, that Rhys would’ve tumbled into profuse apologies had he overheard. “You survived the Blood Rite, I think you can handle a little venom.”

“Fine.”

Defiant, Nesta lowered it into her mouth in one go and crunched down, eyes watering at the potency. Her cheeks turned red at once, sweat beading at her brow, and she braced her hands on the edge of the table to suppress the cough he knew wanted to burst forth. Cassian watched her fight through the heat, her steel composure cracking when she gave in and fanned at her face, her open mouth, reaching to grip his hand for support when she swallowed at last. 

It was his favorite part, he supposed, when she clung to him to make it through. The same way her eyes searched for him habitually when she won a spar during training, when she flung her arm across their bed in the night to feel his form in the darkness. That despite being able to handle all of it on her own, Nesta wanted him along with her.

“Goodness,” she panted once she’d released his hand, brushing stray spice from her fingers. He watched the flush creep across her chest, entranced. “That wasn’t so bad, actually. I may go back for another. Though I doubt you’ll be saying the same.”

Her smile was wicked then, and Cassian couldn’t help but laugh when she looked pointedly at the jar still in front of him, at his fate in her hands. 

“So whose balls am I about to gag on?”

“The giant Sarnesian bat.” She smirked, silver rolling across her eyes once more. “And after that, mine.”

—-

They shared a sumptuous dinner under the fading sun, having somehow not lost their appetites after the horrors they’d inflicted upon each other, though the thick afternoon nap had likely helped. Nesta’s gaze grew heavier the longer it was locked on him across the table, her wintery eyes guarded, mouth drawn in the phantom of a smile.

“You’re quiet this evening, sweetheart,” he observed as he polished off a staggeringly good saffron-infused cake. The same yellow stained his wife’s tongue where it darted out to wet her lips.

“Just enjoying the view.”

“Is that so?”

Nesta hummed in answer, and Cassian felt his blood heat, rushing south as she looked back out at the vista. The room Helion always insisted they take had a wide open-air balcony with a view of Zlora’s rolling dunes, the horizon dotted with bonfires for the upcoming summer solstice. Pink-tipped roses climbed the balustrade, their scent rich in the night air, and music drifted on the breeze full of swirling flutes and deep drums. The High Lord of Day seemed to understand that ‘vacation’ for them meant ‘fucking where our family can’t interrupt us’, and always took their needs to heart.

A smile bloomed on his mate’s beautiful face, and Cassian couldn’t tear his eyes away from her as she breathed in deeply, limbs relaxed where she lounged in her chair. Nesta liked when he watched her, when she knew he was watching. A vision of their last trip to the capitol city rose in his mind, when she’d left their table to dance with another male, how she’d kept her eyes on him the whole time. How fucking crazy it drove him, how he’d worshiped her for hours after.

Nesta in the present stood slowly and moved to loom over him, caging him in with her arms. Cassian leaned back and smirked, dragging his gaze up and down her body appreciatively, possessively. She preened under his attention despite trying not to, her shoulders rolling back and down, and the spark set the game in motion again.

His voice was rough to his own ears when he spoke, low and arrogant. “Take off your clothes.”

Anger sparked across Nesta’s expression at the same time the scent of her arousal drifted over him. She looked defiant as one hand raised to the pin holding her gown at her shoulder, fingers toying with the clasp.

“That sounded an awful lot like an order again, General. You forget death answers to no one.”

“No one but you. Off.”

A shiver of pleasure ran through her and she obeyed, blue gossamer cascading to the floor. When he saw there was nothing underneath, Cassian was tempted to tug her to her knees by the long braid dangling down her back, to make her prove she never gagged. But he knew her well enough to see the ploy for what it was, how she hoped to compromise his self-control with her devastating beauty on full display.

It worked. Cassian ran reverent hands up her bare thighs, tracing the faint lines where she’d filled out over the years, struck dumb from wanting to taste them.

Mother save him.

“What’s the matter? Lost all your courage, sweetheart?” Nesta goaded. She ran her long, tantalizing fingers over the exposed lines of his chest, nails scratching in the hair at the center. Then her touch rounded the top of his shoulder, stretching toward where his wings met his back. 

“What do you think you’re doing, witch?”

Not wanting to be bested yet, Cassian snatched her arm and pulled her down onto him, intent on showing her just how brave he could be.

He couldn’t fucking get enough of her, wanted to drown in her as they tangled with her in his lap, spread out on the table, bent over the balcony railing. She fought his teasing the whole way, trying to stave off her orgasm, as if she knew he wanted to send her tumbling before him and refused to lose.

What she didn’t know was that was exactly his aim. For she was his favorite version when riled up, when I Will Slay My Enemies blended with I’m About To Rearrange Your World, Cassian and he was totally at her mercy no matter who was on top.

She was on her back in the pile of plush cushions now, muscles strained from staving off the high her body craved, nails clawing weakly at his arms. Up and down he wound her, watching as the silver misted at her fingertips, her magic unspooling as her sanity did. Nesta filled the room with glimmers of it, wisps of pleasure flung out, ghosting over his skin and she was everything, every thought in his brain, every drop of his blood.

Her eyelids fluttered pitifully when he gave a hard thrust and Cassian smirked down at her, at the deep flush creeping across her chest that told him she was close.

“Not so mouthy now, huh? Such a good girl when you’re getting what you want.”

“You insuf..ferable.. bat..”

“Go on, Nes, give in. You know you want to.”

“N-never,” Nesta stuttered, but she was speechless after that all the same, clinging tight as he moved deep within her. Something in her seemed to turn then, and he felt the hard squeeze of her thighs around him, eyes pleading when he pulled back. He slowed his pace and rubbed gentle circles into her hips, a question.

“Cassian,” she pleaded in answer, and he heard the edge in her voice, that long-lived wound, the fear of losing control. He leaned forward until their noses bumped, hair spilling over his shoulders to form a protective curtain around her face.

“I know, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

She relaxed beneath him at the same time her finger grazed his wing that was finally within her reach, rearranging his world.

He tipped over just a breath before her, and it felt like the exact moment his wings first caught the wind - suspension, a delicious weightlessness in the gap between flight and freefall. The sound of her moans washed over him a second later, her grip on his hair tight when he buried his face in her neck, tethering her to the earth.

And Cassian knew then, as he knew every time, that all wanted in this life was to take her here. To lift her up and up and up as many times as he could, to help her float, unburdened, even if it meant he was doomed to place second for the rest of his life.

“I won,” she panted once they floated down, and he laughed into the damp skin of her throat, felt her smile against his temple before she placed a kiss there. “Again.”

Nesta fell asleep almost immediately, as was her way, and Cassian watched how the moonlight spilled over her body until drowsiness dragged him under, too, thinking he’d never been happier to lose.

[madaqueue]

playlists

broke her daughter's legs in two | "bruno is orange" x hop along

synopsis: geto finds you after the village massacre, but things went differently

pairing: suguru geto x reader

themes/content: semi-canon curse au. angst. language. loss, death, mentions of possible abuse.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: a little angst to get me out of my smut era (jk i have so much more lined up lmao) anyways once again i highly suggest listening to this song while reading :)

“suguru?” you whisper hesitantly to the man standing in your doorway. the moonlight shines through the curtains of your dorm room, illuminating him just enough to make out his figure.

he says nothing, staring blankly ahead.

“what happened?” you ask, rubbing sleep from your eyes. he slowly starts walking towards you, a pit of dread forming in your stomach as he silently approaches your bed.

you shouldn’t be afraid. you know you shouldn’t. he’s your best friend.

but you also know what happened - you had read the report earlier today.

112 villagers died.

not a single person left in the village.

concluded to be that of suguru geto’s curse manipulation.

geto set fire to the village and fled.

subject to execution.

the weight of his body at the end of your bed causes it to sag slightly as he sits next to you. the smell of ash, blood, and death hangs on his clothes.

the cicadas chirp outside your open window, filling the air between you until he takes in a shaky breath, shoulders raising ever so slightly.

“i had to,” he mouths, the words barely audible.

his eyes stare straight ahead, empty.

“had to what?” you prod, gently reaching a hand up to his back. he flinches at your touch.

“i had to save them.”

you wouldn’t understand, he thinks. nobody else will ever understand.

the things he saw in that village, the way they hurt them - the two girls. it wasn’t their fault. and yet, there they were. they put them there. in that fucking cage, like animals.

the young girls begged him, tears in their eyes. “please don’t tell.” “please don’t yell.”

he was good. he knew he was good. he had to save them.

suddenly, the old woman behind him, their captor, spat back at them, “don’t speak. you’re both going to hell.”

he did what a good person should do. he saved them.

the world is not kind to sorcerers - he knew this all too well. especially in places like these, the outskirts of society where sorcery was equated to evil and condemned, they hurt them. they blame them. they punish them. the world is a dangerous place for sorcerers.

as he sits in your bed, he starts to shake. no tears leave his eyes, but his breathing becomes ragged, shoulders heaving as he stares into the distance in front of him, eyes unfocused.

in the quiet of your room, all he hears are the crackles of the flames. he didn’t even hear the screams, the pleas, that fell from their traitorous lips. because he was doing good. he was saving them.

your voice pulls him back to reality slightly, still unable to tune out the ringing of bloodshed from his ears. “suguru,” you murmur, “whatever happened, it’s okay.”

he wants to believe you, he does. he wants to feel your hand stroking his back, but it just feels like everything is a million miles away. he’s watching himself break down in the moonlight of your room. he wants to be good.

“i killed them,” he finally utters.

the words make you flinch, even though you knew they were coming.

“i killed all of them. the entire village.”

“why?” you ask, not wanting but nevertheless needing an answer, an explanation, for what happened.

“i had to save them.”

“save who?”

“the girls.”

a sigh leaves your lips in relief. you knew it, you knew suguru wouldn’t just hurt people. he must have seen them, they must have been hurt, and the only way to help them was to burn the village down. you needed this to be true, to reassure yourself as much as him. you knew he was good.

he was your best friend, after all, and right now he needs you.

you think back to the last time you saw him before this mission, how different things were, the morning he left.

–

the two of you sit on a picnic bench, shaded by one of the trees in the courtyard outside the school. geto holds an orange in his hands, peeling it with a small knife. he was always so careful with things like this, never daring to nick the soft flesh of the fruit, a care he brought with him into every aspect of his life. he was always calculated, a quiet thoughtfulness that came second nature to him.

your eyes trace over his hands before moving up to his face, the dark circles under his eyes a physical manifestation of the exhaustion you had seen growing in him the past few weeks.

“suguru?” you get his attention.

“mhm?” he murmurs, eyes never leaving the orange as he continues working his knife around it.

you sigh, not knowing how he’ll react to the question you’ve been dreading. “are you…are you okay?”

his hands freeze for a moment, body tensing, before he returns to his movement. “mhm,” he affirms.

you want to reach across the table, grab him by the shoulders and yell that you know he’s lying, that he is so clearly and undeniably not okay, that he just needs to talk to you and you’ll do anything you can to help him.

but, of course, you don’t. instead, you tilt your head back as your gaze shifts up to the sky, bright blue through the leaves above you.

“you know,” you start, scanning the branches that shake softly in the wind, “i heard that people used to eat oranges in the morning if they weren’t feeling well, the idea of a fruit-curing fever, something in it warming and soothing. they thought it could heal sickness.”

“mmm,” suguru hums softly. without another word, he splits the orange in two, handing you half. “worth a shot,” he says with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

–

remembering him, his kindness and hurt, your body language softens. “that’s okay,” you explain, more at ease now that you know he acted out of compassion. “where are they now, the girls? we can go help them, together.”

geto is silent. his eyes slowly move from the floor up to yours, a new darkness in them.

“suguru…” you start.

he just stares.

“w-what did you do?” you stammer, fear reappearing in the pit of your stomach, your hand freezing in place on his back.

“i saved them.” his voice is low, resigned. “it was too dangerous for them. they couldn’t live in this world, a world built to hate them. i needed to protect them. i needed to help them. and i did,” he pauses to take in a sharp breath between his rambling. “now, they won’t have to live in a world that would hurt them. it was too dangerous. i helped them. i did. i saved them.”

as he talks himself in circles, his grasp on everything becomes undone. he loses himself in his words, the mantra he so desperately clung to, the one he needed to say until he believed it.

he was good. he saved them.

your eyes widen as the realization sets in: the girls are dead. just like everyone else in the village. just like the reports said.

as he babbles out the same explanation, shock takes over your body. you can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t move, the only words leaving your mouth are “it’s okay,” over and over again, the sounds mixing with his in your room, chaos swirling in the night air as you both drift away from this reality.

“it’s okay” “i protected them” “it’s okay” “i helped them” “it’s okay” “i saved them” “it’s okay”

suddenly, your body jolts forward as you sit up in bed. the action surprises suguru into silence as he watches you, eyes following your every move as you walk to the small kitchen in your dorm room, taking an orange out of a bowl that sits on the counter.

you shove your thumb under the thick peel, tearing at the flesh of the fruit as you pull it apart in strips. juice leaks down between your fingers and drips onto the counter. holding the fruit in your palm, your bare feet carry you back to suguru. holding out a hand, you both sit in silence and eat the orange.

your voice is raspy and worn as you speak to him.

“you saved them.”