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e1e4n0r5 · 23 days ago

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Their Little Plaything: 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Fandom: Arcane: League of Legends

Pairing: Bullies Cait & Vi x Loner Nerd Reader

Words: 4500

Synopsis: Cait and Vi try to earn your forgiveness...in their way.

Warnings: Bullying/mocking, power imbalance, FFF threesome, ANGST!!!!, fingering (r! receiving), strap-on, description of masturbation with sex toys, gaslighting/emotional manipulation, dub-con sex (r! is emotionally distressed throughout but never says no), dub-con filming of sex, oral sex (r! receiving, r! giving), mild degradation, dirty talk, praise kink, finger sucking, anal fingering (r! receiving), anal sex (r! receiving), double penetration with straps, that thing where one person uses their mouth to give someone a drink 👀

Notes: Poor Reader really goes through it, folks 😣

You sat at your usual corner table, quietly and miserably reading a textbook, trying to get back into your study habits, when a soft accented voice spoke.

“Sorry to bother you; are you Y/N?”

You looked up, really not wanting to talk to the pretty redhead with freckles. “Can I help you?”

“Sorry, we haven’t met before. I’m Maddie. Can we talk?”

You frowned. “I'm sorry, Maddie, it's not a good time for me. I-I’m just getting over a sickness-”

She ignored you. “Cait and Vi. Caitlyn Kiramman and Violet Lanes. You're with them, right? I was too, last summer. At least until they just stopped texting me.”

Your stomach twisted. Great. An upset ex. Just what you needed in your vulnerable state. “Maddie, I don’t know what happened between the three of you, and I really don't want to talk-”

She regarded you closely. “Have you found the cameras yet?”

Your heart stopped. “Excuse me?”

“In their house; in the backgrounds of some of the photos they send you...?”

In the house?! Where were they hidden? You hadn’t just had sex in the bedroom, they would have footage from all over the house.

Your jaw clenched. “Listen, I don't know what you're talking about-” you tried to deny.

“Do you guys have a group chat?”

“Uh...”

“What's it called?” she asked, tilting her head like a challenge.

“I don't think-”

“Is it called Plaything?”

You felt sick again, like the world was spinning. You had to swallow down bile. “How did you-?”

“Because that's what ours was called too,” she explained as she sat down across from you, holding her phone out to show you. It was a group chat history. At the bottom, it said ‘Unknown and Unknown have left the chat’, and at the top the name was clearly listed as ‘Plaything’.

She scrolled up to the very top of the chat for you. “Go ahead, have a read. See if anything’s familiar.”

You took the phone out of her hands, skimming through it as your own hands shook.

You [Maddie]: have either of you found my underwear? I can't find them

Unknown: those are ours now

You: what?! You can't keep them!

Unknown: And why not? We earned them last night. Several times over

You read further down to a few weeks later.

You: ok this has to stop, I'm running out of underwear! Are you guys going to replace what you've taken? Or at least give it all back?

Unknown: not a chance

Unknown: And don't get greedy, darling

You: I'm not being greedy but you've taken so many! I need them! I only have about ten pairs left!

Unknown: not our problem

You: It’s your fault though!! You take them every time

Unknown: So you think you deserve a treat?

You: I’m not trying to sound greedy or ungrateful but one of our families is super rich and could definitely afford to replace my stolen underwear 👀

Unknown: We’ll see. Maybe if you’re a good girl for long enough, you can have a treat

Your stomach twisted. That was exactly what Cait had said to you.

Still scrolling, you saw thousands of messages spanning a few months. And then, inevitably, you came across pictures. Checking the dates, they had been together for roughly the same amount of time as you had.

Maddie was more confident with the camera than you were, not afraid to get up close to it. One photo was a close up of her smiling, fucked out face, chin glistening with juices. Another video had her fucking herself with a toy whilst Vi stood over her and she ate her pussy, Cait obviously recording. Photos of Cait’s manicured hand squeezing Maddie's cheeks firmly, Maddie sticking her tongue out as her blurry eyes tried to focus on the camera. GIFs of them both fucking her at the same time, in the same position they had with you for the first time.

Disgusted and queasy again, you put her phone down on the table, a little harder than intended.

“What do you want?” you demanded, crossing your arms, trying to keep your coffee in your stomach.

She shrugged. “I'm honestly not sure-”

“Then why did you bother coming up to me? If you don't know what you want, why couldn't you just leave me alone?” you snapped.

She looked you over. “Oh, yeah, you’ve found the cameras. I remember crashing out like this when I found one in the kitchen.”

“Kitchen?!”

“Yeah, it’s hidden in the wall near that bit of island. Did they make you bend over it whilst they fucked you?”

Your heart broke. “They did all this to you too?” you whispered.

Maddie smiled at you in pity. “Oh, my love, I think they've done this to lots of girls. We're just the latest ones.” She raised her coffee cup to yours in a mock toast. “To the victims of Cait and Vi.”

“How many others are there?”

She sipped her iced latte. “Well, there’s you, then me just before summer. Before that was Kylie, in the spring. Andrea was last fall, so this time last year. There were a few others before that but I don’t know much detail. One girl left the university; she was so fucked up.”

“How do you even know all this?” you asked sceptically.

She smiled ruefully. “Exactly like this. Kylie came up to me and told me everything she’d been through, showed me the photos and videos too. The group chat called Plaything. A shocking pattern of behaviour from Cait and Vi, I have to say. Kylie was more investigative though, she was able to use social media a lot more thoroughly than I ever could. She could show you a presentation with a timeline if you wanted.”

You blanched. “What? How?”

“Well, it was quite impressive. Got to say, it did feel a bit stalkerish, but still impressive! If her degree doesn’t work out, she could be a PI. Basically, she compared photos and videos that the previous girls had sent her, to Cait's and Vi's social media. Like I said, a bit stalkerish, but a lovely girl nonetheless.”

Your head hurt and your heart broke. How many girls had they done this to?

Cait opened the door, looking at you in pleased surprise.

“Hello, sweetheart,” she smiled, letting you in. “To what do we owe this pleasure? Are you feeling better?”

You nodded numbly. “A bit.”

“Good, I'm pleased to hear that. Vi will be too; she's a bit of a germaphobe. But we've both missed you terribly.” She smiled down at you, and you struggled to stay angry. “Vi's in the shower at the moment. Shall we entertain ourselves until she's out?” she winked at you, leading you into the sitting room.

“Well, I was looking through some of the photos you sent me,” you said, getting your phone out and tapping through it.

Cait smiled. “Oh, yes? Which one was your favourite? Should we recreate it?”

“This one,” you turned your phone around to show her the image of the two of you kneeling on the bed, the one you’d showed Powder.

She nodded. “That’s a good one; you look quite lovely in that.”

You hardened yourself not to blush at the compliment. “Do you know what my favourite part is?”

“You tell me,” she instructed softly, her pupils dilating.

“This part,” you turned the phone back to you and zoomed in on a section of the photo, turning your phone back to her.

The playfulness left her eyes but she kept the smile plastered on her face, unmoving.

“You know what that is?” you asked.

She hesitated, then shook her head. “No,” she lied. “Enlighten me.”

“It’s a camera. More specifically, a HexTech Pocket Camera 3000. Brand new this year. Very expensive, almost six figures. Your parents’ money bought it though, I suppose. And I’ve already checked the manufacturer’s website: that little red light means it’s recording video.”

Cait said nothing. Her hands trembled slightly, so she crossed her arms.

“Except when you took this photo, you never mentioned another camera.”

“Is this going somewhere, Y/N?” she demanded stonily.

“How long have you been doing this? Recording me, during sex? Without my knowledge? Because I remember the first time you asked to do it. But now, I can’t imagine that being the first time you actually did it.”

She said nothing.

“Cait!”

“Piltover is a one-party consent-”

You laughed coldly in her face. “Don’t even try that. Don’t even fucking try that with me, Kiramman. You knew what you were doing was wrong. That’s why you hid it! That’s why you didn’t tell me you were recording, because you knew I wouldn’t have wanted you to! Who else has seen this?!” you screamed at her, brandishing your phone.

“No-one,” she replied firmly.

You scoffed. “You really expect me to believe that the girls who secretly films people having sex are so above showing it to other people?”

“I mean it: no-one else has, or ever will, see any of the photos or videos we have.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better about you invading my privacy?”

Cait laughed bitterly. “You were very enthusiastic at the time.”

“For the sex! And the one photo that you specifically asked if you could take. Not for the recording you didn’t tell me about!” Your eyes were slowly filling with tears. “Why do you do it? Hmmm? Take sneaky videos of people? Is it some weird kink or something? Some fetish? A control thing?”

Cait rolled her jaw, looking away.

“How many other girls have you done this to?”

That made her head snap back. “What makes you ask that?”

“Who the fuck is Maddie? And Kylie? And Andrea?”

She took a breath, looking physically wounded from a blow. “They were a long time-”

“It was not ‘a long time ago’! You were with Maddie at the end of Sophomore year, that is not ‘a long time ago’, Cait, we’re Juniors! You were both fucking her for months, doing the same thing – taking sneaky photos and videos – but she never confronted you about it. Yes, she found out,” you snapped at Cait’s alarmed face, “She knew you were doing it but she never said anything because she didn’t want you to break up with her.”

“We weren’t in a relationship, there was no ‘breaking up’.”

“You ghosted her over summer break, blocked her number and socials, then came back this year and acted like you didn’t know her. And the reason you acted that way was because you found your new fixation. Me. You didn’t need Maddie anymore, you had me. Your new Plaything. Very unimaginative of you, by the way, using the same group chat name with us all! And yes, I’ve seen the messages!”

Cait staggered back a few steps and began to pace, laughing in discomfort. “You are being so…Dramatic right now, Y/N,” she said tersely.

Your mouth opened, but no sound came out. It felt like your chest was splitting open. “I trusted you both. I actually thought-”

“Oh, please,” she cut in, rolling her eyes. “You like being wanted. You like being fucked by two women who know how to handle you, you like being our good girl. Don’t act like some innocent virgin now just because you found a little camera in the background of – what was, undoubtedly – one of the best nights of your life.”

You flinched. Your lip trembled.

She saw it. She went too far. And for a moment, something flickered in her eyes. Then she stepped toward you, slower now. Controlled. Calculating.

"You’re angry," she said, voice softening. “I understand.” Her tone dropped as she closed the space between you. “But you still want this.”

“Don’t,” you said hoarsely, taking a small step back.

Her hand came up, barely grazing your hip, testing you. “You came here because you wanted answers,” she murmured. “But I think you also came here because you want us to make it up to you. And we will, in the best way we know how.” Her hands cupped your shaking jaw. “You want us to take away the anger, don’t you, the hurt? You want to feel our hands again? Our mouths on you?”

You were shaking, but you weren’t pulling away. “You can’t seduce your way out of this,” you whimpered as you cried.

She chuckled throatily. “Well, let’s just see if we can.”

And then she kissed you. Hard, possessive, without apology.

And God help you, you kissed her back, even as the tears streamed down your face. How could you be so weak? How pathetic could you be, giving in after a single kiss and some sweet words whispered in your ear.

She pulled your dress up over your hips, squeezing your ass firmly, kneading your flesh. You whined into her mouth. She pushed your bag and jacket off your shoulders, pulling your dress all the way up, breaking apart from your mouth briefly to throw it over your head.

You realised you still held your phone in one hand. You pulled away, sniffing, looking for somewhere to put it down.

“No, baby, come here,” she urged softly, pulling you by the hand to a nearby chaise longue. She sat you down, pushing you back gently. Settling herself between your legs, she kissed your stomach and breasts, squeezing them tenderly.

“Open the camera, sweetheart,” she ordered, looking you in the eye as she sucked one of your nipples through your cream lace bra. A treat from them, they liked you in white underwear.

“What?” you asked shakily, your face still wet with tears.

“Do as I say,” she said firmly, switching to your other nipple.

With a whimper, you obeyed, opening your camera app.

“Put it on me, baby, and take whatever you want. As many photos and videos as you want. We’ve got all night.”

Your lip trembled as you wanted to say no. But she gave you her stern look that melted away all your resistance, and with a sad hiccup, you pressed record.

Looking straight at you through the camera, Cait kissed down your stomach until she got to your covered pussy, never breaking eye contact with the camera lens as she slowly, seductively, eased your panties down your legs, looping them a few times around her wrist.

“Do I look good, baby? Is the lighting okay?”

You nodded weakly, watching her through your screen.

“So does this,” she pressed a kiss to your clit, “look okay?”

You whimpered, “Yes.”

“And this?” She licked up your slit.

You whined. “Yes.”

“What about this?” She wiggled her tongue over your clit from side to side.

“Fuck!” you cried out. “Yes! Yes, that's good!”

She laughed. “Just wanted to check.”

She closed her eyes and started feasting on your pussy. Licking up and down your slit, sucking your clit, sliding her tongue inside you. All the while, you panted and cursed, still pointing your phone at her. Every so often, she would open her eyes to see if you were still recording. When she saw you were, she winked at the camera, emboldened by its presence.

“What’s going on here?” asked a playful voice.

Vi.

You looked up from the camera, seeing Vi leaning against the doorjamb, a pristine white towel around her waist. Just peeking out the top of towel was a black harness, barely visible. She was strapped up.

She approached you both, the outline of the strap becoming visible through the towel. Cait didn't respond or acknowledge her girlfriend, just kept eating your pussy, moaning into your skin. Vi knelt next to the chaise longue, stroking your tear-stained cheek.

“Are you sad, baby?”

You nodded pitifully, your cheeks still wet and puffy from tears.

“But how can you be sad when you're getting your pussy eaten?” she mocked, licking away some tears.

Before you could respond, Vi captured your mouth in a deep kiss, swirling her tongue with yours. Cupping your jaw in her hand, she moaned into your mouth, sucking your tongue. You moaned back, your hips starting to move against Cait’s mouth.

“You gonna cum for her, sweetheart?” Vi asked, running a hand over your breasts.

You nodded breathlessly. “Need to cum.”

“How badly do you need to cum?”

You groaned when Cait slid her fingers inside you. “So bad! Need to cum, Vi.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “Well, we could let you. I suppose?” she taunted. She cupped your breasts over your bra, feeling their weight in her hands. Bending down over your chest, she pulled your bra down, kissing and licking your breasts. “Fuck, your tits are perfect,” she breathed, pulling your nipple into her mouth, sucking deeply. The pressure made you gasp, your pussy clenching on Cait’s fingers. Switching nipples, she tugged the one she just released.

“Gods...” You whimpered, moving your hips into Cait’s face. She moved to your clit in response, sucking your button and flicking her tongue over it. “I need to cum, I need to cum!” you gasped.

“Ask nicely,” Vi commanded, taking hold of your throat.

“Please let me cum, Vi! Cait, please!”

“Your decision, Cupcake,” Vi said to Cait.

The blue-haired woman took pity on you, sucking your clit harder and working her fingers faster. With a cry, you orgasmed on the chaise, your hips rocking back and forth as your free hand held Cait’s head to you.

Vi eased the phone out of your hand, moving down to kneel next to Cait. She filmed Cait’s fingers slowing down inside you and spreading your lips to expose your leaking hole. You squirmed uncomfortably under them, watching them watch your pussy. It was hot – seeing them almost obsess over you – but you also felt very exposed. Vulnerable. The rabbit in front of the wolves.

Cait scooped up the last of your juices on her fingers. Vi flipped the camera to use the front lens, recording Cait slide her fingers into her mouth, moaning as she got her first taste of you, your bare pussy and spread legs still visible in the shot. Vi kept eye contact with the camera as Cait thrust her fingers in and out of Vi’s mouth, eventually sliding all the way in and hitting Vi’s gag reflex. After that, Cait withdrew her fingers, and Vi stopped recording.

You made it upstairs, and the hours that followed were delicious yet emotionally draining for you. Vi and Cait seemed to want to overload you with orgasms, but never stopped taking photos and videos. Always in your view, always announcing when they picked up a phone or a camera. ‘Let me take a pic, baby’, ‘You look so perfect, I have to save this’, ‘Let me show you what you look like, sweetheart’.

While Vi lay back on the rug in the middle of their bedroom, you straddled her and slowly slid down the strap. But only after Cait announced the camera she had set up on the floor between Vi’s bent legs, offering up the perfect view of your pussy stretching over and sliding down the silicone.

You suddenly became conscious of the view that would be captured, but Vi’s hands on your face and firm kisses distracted you long enough to get the toy into your pussy. She held your mouth to hers, intertwining your tongues, until she could hear you panting for breath. She released your mouth, but held your head looking at her.

Cait moved behind you – which you couldn't see because of Vi’s grip – and you heard something screwing open, followed by a wet sound.

“What’s happening?” you asked Vi, panicking as she held your head and neck tightly, not letting you look around.

“Don't worry, baby, it's fine,” she said softly, slowly starting to move the toy inside you. But it did nothing to comfort you.

“Vi, please,” you begged, starting to cry again. “Cait, what are you doing?”

“It's alright, sweetheart,” she said, stroking your back hole with her fingertips, rubbing the expensive coconut oil around your ring.

You gasped when she did, jolting against Vi, who had the strength to keep you in place.

“See?” Vi soothed. “Nothing to worry about. We've done this before.”

“Breathe for me,” Cait instructed softly, lining up her fingers to your hole. Vi helped you breathe, then Cait slowly slid two slick fingers inside you. You whined when she did, already feeling full from the toy in your pussy. “Rock for us, sweetheart,” she asked, rubbing her hand over your hips. Vi moved one hand to your hips, helping you grind between her toy and Cait’s fingers.

An involuntary moan escaped your lips, the slight stretching in your pussy and ass making your clit throb as you rocked your hips. They praised you well, possibly hoping to ease your tears. It didn’t work. Your tears kept pouring even as you moaned, your body taking over. Maybe because it felt so good? Maybe to protect your heart from breaking?

Cait settled on her knees behind you, rubbing the tip of her slicked strap against you. “Ready to do this again, sweetheart?” she asked in your ear, already sliding into your ass.

You keened, long and low, as she filled your ass, rubbing up against Vi’s strap in your pussy. You sobbed at how good it felt; hating how good it felt, how good they made you feel. Vi kept kissing you, ignoring your tear-stained cheeks, rocking her hips under yours.

You came three times between them before they did, your traitorous pussy leaking juices over them every time.

When she finished, her own cum coating her thighs, Cait withdrew from your ass, getting up from behind you, knocking the camera over. She headed into the bathroom, sweat coating her brow. She took off her strap, washed her hands and face, and poured a glass of water.

Heading back into the bedroom, she approached you both.

“Sweetheart, you need a drink,” she said softly.

Draped on top of Vi, her strap still inside your pussy, you moaned weakly. You struggled to prop yourself up, but managed eventually. You waited for Cait to hold the glass to your lips, but she didn’t.

She held your jaw, her thumb stroking your cheek. “Do you forgive us, baby?” she asked softly.

Fuck you.

The words burned in your chest, and your eyes burned with tears again.

Seeing your distress, Cait smiled. “It’s alright. It’s okay. Here,” she held up the glass to your lips, letting you drink slowly as you glared at her.

When you swallowed, Vi gently rolled the two of you over, her strap never leaving you. “Give me some,” she asked Cait. She swallowed a few gulps, then propped you up in a half-seated position under her, her muscled arm supporting your torso without issue. She took a mouthful of water, keeping it in her mouth, and pressed her lips to yours. To your surprise, she forced your mouth open and shared the water with you.

You coughed and swallowed, not expecting that. You couldn’t tell if you liked that.

She did it again. Taking another mouthful from the glass, she pressed her mouth to yours again. Knowing what to expect, you opened your mouth, more prepared the second time.

Vi nodded at Cait to finish the glass and go get some more. She looked down at you, nudging her hips into yours. “Ready to go again?”

Hours later, Vi angled the camera on the coffee table at the side of you so you could see.

“What about this, baby?” She straightened up behind you, showing the camera the sight of her behind you, your ass in the air, your back gracefully curved. “Do you like how this looks?” she asked, giving a few small thrusts inside you.

How was she not tired?! You were exhausted and aching, sure your pussy would soon be swollen shut.

You moaned, gasping when Vi slid deeper into you, able to tell the depth from the side-view in the camera.

She chuckled. “I’m so deep, baby. So deep inside you. Put your hand on your tummy, do you feel me?”

You moved your hand to your lower stomach, gasping when you felt movement under your palm.

Vi laughed. “Now, do you want the rest?”

Your head almost shot round.

“Yeah, baby, that's not it,” she slowly moved a little deeper, making you groan as she went deeper than you thought she could.

“Can I hop back in?” Cait teased, rubbing her clit in front of you.

You wanted to say no, that you were still so fucking furious with her, that she didn't deserve to have her pussy eaten. But as she stroked her beautiful wet pussy in front of you, your mouth watered, and you wanted her.

You nodded, lifting your head a little. She sat down in front of you, spreading her pussy open for you. You pulled her hips forward and latched onto her clit, sucking like you hated her. She gasped as you did, unused to the pressure from you. She rocked against your mouth, running her hands through your hair.

“God, baby,” she moaned, “you’re so good at this.”

“We taught her well,” Vi bragged.

You wanted to shout, to scream, to bite. But you didn’t. You rocked back against Vi as she fucked you with her strap, and you fucked Cait with your mouth and tongue. You got her moaning like a whore, then slowed down your attention until she begged for more. You repeated the cycle, tormenting her, and she let you.

When she came, you forced her to do it again. Vi picked up on what you were doing, wrapping her hand in your hair.

“Don’t get cocky, baby,” she scolded. “Don’t make me fuck your ass harder than this.”

They fucked you until the early morning, until all of you had nothing left to give. You’d passed out together on the floor, wrapped up in a pile of limbs.

You eventually woke, propping yourself up on your elbows, looking around the room. Toys discarded, an empty glass of water knocked over, the small camera discarded and out of battery.

Cait roused next to you. “Do you feel better now, sweetheart?” she asked, kissing your shoulder.

You didn't say anything, just sat up. “I want to see all the photos and videos you have of me.”

Cait tensed a little beside you, but recovered. “Absolutely. Why don't we have a little watch party tomorrow-?” she asked, trailing her hand up your back.

You glared at her over your shoulder.

She removed her hand.

You gingerly got to your feet, walking unsteadily off to the bathroom.

Vi and Cait watched you go, the latter tapping her nails on the floor in thought, your panties still looped around her wrist.

“Don't think she's forgiven us yet,” Vi commented quietly, curling up around Cait.

The blue-haired women hummed. “Give it time. She will.”

@sevikas-whore, @djstinkyfartz, @jinririz, @abbyandcaitlover, @ayuxiru, @bebeluvvv, @youdoyou-andiwilldome, @kittymrtnezz69, @wyprettylilone, @jlb20416, @autisticratbagtm, @theoreticalfreak, @riotstemple29, @zaunite-516, @zmbieeee, @godhatesgoodgirls, @yoyo-w, @milanyas, @unknownomgg, @bella-but-not-hadid444, @marvelwomenarehot0, @nenoino, @opalundercover

#arcane #vi arcane #arcane vi x reader #vi x reader #arcane au #arcane league of legends #arcane violet #caitlyn kiramman #their little plaything #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn x vi #vi and caitlyn #caitvi #caitvi x reader #arcane caitvi

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xoxolaw · 1 month ago

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+ DISCOVER YOUR SECRETS

in which seong-je happens to discover secrets about his school's student council president, who happens to have a spotless personality.

Geum Seong-Je x reader

secret 1 :- tear on a pretty face

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 final

Geum Seong-je practically ruled Kanghak High. He was known for picking fights and pushing people around just because he could. Most students knew better than to get in his way. And ever since he joined the Union, that fear only grew.

But not everyone at Kanghak High was afraid.

Y/N, the student council president, stood apart. Smart, composed, and unshakably confident, Y/N didn’t flinch when Seong-je walked by. She didn’t whisper behind his back—she called him out, directly and publicly. Where others backed down, she pushed back.

It wasn’t just defiance—it was personal. The tension between them was sharp and obvious. Every hallway encounter felt like a standoff. Neither had made a move yet, but the whole school could feel it coming.

Something was going to break.

"It's high time you started moving out of the way." One of Seong-je's minions spoke up. "A few times were ok, but now it's getting on my nerves." He gritted his teeth and stepped forward to face off against Y/N.

But her side wasn't going to stay quiet either. The other council members stepped forward, and while both the groups shouted at each other, Seong-je and Y/N kept their eyes on the other.

None of the other students in the background, who were standing in the hallway dared to step in and stop the fight, neither did the teachers. Because even they knew better than getting involved with the union.

"Stop." That was the only word that came out of Seong-je's and everyone on his side stopped right where they were.

A cocky smirk spread across his face, as he puffed out the cigarette and walked past Y/N, with his minions following right behind him.

"Y/N, don't you think we should do something about him? The school doesn't feel like a school because of him." One of the council members said but didn’t gain a reply from the president. Her eyes just followed Seong-je’s back as he walked away, that same smirk still painted across his face like he’d already won.

Her fingers curled into a fist by her side, nails digging into her palm. She hated that look—the arrogance, the confidence, like he owned every hallway he walked through.

“We will,” she said finally, voice low but firm. “Just not on his terms.”

The council exchanged glances. They’d seen Y/N stand her ground before, but something about today felt different. The stare-down hadn’t ended with a fight, but it hadn’t ended at all. It lingered, like a match held just above the flame.

And Seong-je—he knew it too.

Later that day, word spread fast. About the standoff. About how Seong-je had spoken a single word and everyone froze. About how Y/N didn’t blink, didn’t move, didn’t even flinch when he passed her.

Rumors turned to whispers. Whispers turned to anticipation.

Because now it wasn’t just a matter of who was in charge. It was Y/N versus Seong-je.

And everyone was watching, waiting to see who would make the next move.

---

The next day, the classroom was quiet, sunlight spilling in through half-drawn blinds as students mindlessly flipped through pages or stared at the board. It was just another ordinary period—until the door slid open with a loud clack.

Heads turned.

One of Seong-je’s guys stepped in, tall and broad, with that same cocky confidence they all wore like a badge. He didn’t ask for permission. He didn’t need to.

“You. Park Jihoon,” he said, pointing at a boy sitting near the back. “Seong-je wants to see you. Now.”

Jihoon froze, color draining from his face. He didn’t move.

“What, you didn’t hear me?” the guy stepped in fully, hands shoved in his pockets, his voice rising. “You gonna make me drag you?”

“No,” Jihoon said, barely above a whisper. “I didn’t do anything. I’m not going.”

There was a tense beat of silence before the guy scoffed and started walking toward him, cracking his knuckles. The classroom held its breath.

But before he could get any closer, a voice cut through the room.

“That’s enough.”

Everyone turned. Y/N had stood up from her seat near the window, calm as ever, her gaze locked on the intruder.

“He’s not going anywhere,” she said, stepping in front of Jihoon.

The guy blinked, almost confused. “You serious?”

“Dead serious. Go back and tell Seong-je—if he wants to talk to someone, there are better ways than sending his little messengers in the middle of class and threatening people.”

He stared at her, jaw tightening. But he didn’t move.

“Now,” she added, voice sharp, like the edge of a knife.

He clicked his tongue, clearly not used to being ordered around. But after a moment of silence, he turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

---

Up on the rooftop, Seong-je leaned back against the railing, cigarette lazily resting between his fingers as the wind tugged at his uniform jacket. One of his guys stepped forward, slightly out of breath.

“She stopped it,” he muttered. “Said to tell you not to bully people.”

Seong-je didn’t say anything at first.

Then he laughed.

Not loud. Not wild. Just a low, amused sound as the cigarette dropped from his lips and he crushed it beneath his shoe.

“So,” he murmured, staring out over the school grounds, “you really don’t scare easy, huh?”

---

It didn’t stop there.

Y/N had drawn the line—and she didn’t back down from it.

In the weeks that followed, more of Seong-je’s usual games started to fall apart. Council notices replaced whispered threats. Classrooms where his minions once walked in freely now stayed locked during lessons. Teachers, once too scared to speak up, started following her lead—quietly at first, but noticeably.

She didn’t confront him directly again. Not yet. But it was clear she was dismantling his influence piece by piece.

Some of the students—ones who used to avoid eye contact, who used to walk faster when they saw Seong-je’s people coming—started to push back. Small things. A shoulder that didn’t move out of the way. A refusal to give up a seat. A look that lasted just one second longer than it used to.

And behind it all, the student council moved differently now. Not just the usual announcements and rule enforcement. Y/N had launched something new.

A quiet system.

No speeches. No banners. Just a small box outside the council room labeled Welfare Support & Safety. A name that sounded harmless enough, but everyone knew what it meant.

If you were being targeted—by anyone—you could write it down and slip it inside. No names needed. No questions asked. And somehow, like magic, the bullying stopped. A council member showed up. A warning was given. A presence was felt.

For the first time in a long while, students had somewhere to go.

Not everyone trusted it at first. But when word spread that it actually worked—that someone was listening, was fighting back—it changed everything.

And somewhere above it all, on the rooftop where he always watched from a distance, Seong-je lit another cigarette, eyes narrowing just slightly as he looked down at the school shifting beneath him.

Y/N was becoming a problem.

A fascinating one.

---

It was already dark by the time Y/N left the school gates. Her footsteps echoed on the pavement, the streetlights casting long shadows behind her. The air was cold, sharp, and smelled faintly of rain. She rubbed her arms through her thin sleeves, mind busy with the day's work, the endless reports, and the constant presence of the Union pressing in from all sides.

She was used to pressure. To walking with her head high, even when her legs wanted to buckle. But what she wasn’t used to was this feeling—the eerie stillness in the air, the kind that told her something was wrong.

Then she heard it.

A voice. No, more than one.

Laughing. Mocking.

And one, smaller. Trembling.

Y/N stopped.

The alley up ahead was narrow and dimly lit, tucked between two worn-out apartment buildings. Her instincts screamed for her to keep walking. This wasn’t school—this was the real world. And out here, she didn’t have authority.

But still...

Her jaw tightened.

She stepped into the alley.

At first, she could only see shadows. Then they came into focus—four girls surrounding another, who sat on her knees, soaked, shaking, her hair plastered to her face. A plastic bottle hit the ground, rolling and spilling the last of its contents.

“Maybe next time don’t talk back,” one of the bullies sneered, lifting another bottle.

“That’s enough.”

Y/N’s voice was steady, cutting through the noise like a blade.

The girls turned. One raised an eyebrow. “You lost or something?”

Y/N stepped forward. Her eyes landed on the girl kneeling, and her heart clenched when she saw the uniform—Kanghak High.

She turned back to the bullies. “Walk away. Now.”

The one in front laughed. “You gonna make us?”

Y/N didn’t answer. She moved.

It wasn’t graceful—she wasn’t trained. But she had grit. She grabbed the bottle mid-air before it could be poured again, yanked it from the girl’s hand, and slammed it against the wall. One of them tried to punch her—Y/N ducked, elbowed her in the stomach, then kicked her shin hard enough to send her stumbling.

A swing caught her cheek, sharp and hot, but she ignored it.

Another girl lunged, but Y/N grabbed her wrist and twisted, using her momentum to send her crashing into the alley wall.

The rest backed off, breathing hard, cursing under their breath as they scattered.

Y/N stood, shoulders rising and falling. She wasn’t sure how long she’d last if it went on, but for now—they were gone.

She turned to the girl on the ground, knelt down, and shrugged off her blazer, wrapping it around her shoulders.

“Go,” she said, gently but firmly. “Report this. The police station’s two blocks away.”

The girl looked at her, wide-eyed, lips trembling. She nodded, then bolted.

The girl had run. The alley was quiet again, save for the slow drip of water from a broken pipe and Y/N’s own sharp breathing. Her blazer was gone, soaked and wrapped around the trembling student she’d just saved. Her blouse clung to her from sweat and the splatter of spilled water. Her knuckles stung, the skin split just slightly from hitting that girl’s cheekbone. But she didn’t care.

She leaned against the wall, the adrenaline slowly burning off, leaving her body cold and shaky.

Then—footsteps.

Three of them.

Heavy, slow, deliberate.

She turned.

Three guys walked into the alley, all taller, older—likely seniors or dropouts who still hung around Kanghak’s orbit. Two of them cracked their knuckles like some cheap movie, while the one in the middle—broad shoulders, long scar down his jaw—smirked like he already owned the night.

“Well, well,” he said, voice low and amused. “You’re the one who roughed up our girls?”

Y/N straightened, but her stomach twisted.

“They were harassing a student. I stepped in.”

The guy chuckled. “You stepped in?”

He looked to his friends. “She stepped in.”

They laughed.

Y/N’s fists clenched at her sides, and she glanced behind her—brick wall. No escape.

“You got guts, I’ll give you that,” Scar-Jaw said, stepping closer. “But you made a mistake.”

“Touch me and I will report you,” she said firmly.

“Oh, I’m counting on it.”

Before she could move, he lunged. Y/N ducked, her body reacting before her mind could catch up. She kicked his shin hard, enough to make him curse and stumble back. The others closed in, and she threw a punch that landed but barely fazed the second guy. He shoved her against the wall, but she pushed off, elbowed him in the side, then spun to keep her back from being caught again.

But she was outnumbered.

Scar-Jaw came from the side, and this time he caught her arm, twisted it behind her back with a brutal jerk. A sharp cry escaped her lips. Her knees buckled. He slammed her forward, chest against the wall, her cheek scraping rough brick. His hand gripped her wrist, locking it behind her, while the other slid to her neck and pressed her face against the wall.

“Still feeling brave?” he whispered, laughing low in her ear. “No one’s coming.”

Her heart pounded. Panic bloomed. She tried to shift her weight, to kick back, but he just slammed her harder against the bricks. His breath was hot, reeking of cheap alcohol and spite.

“Let me go!” she shouted.

“Louder. Maybe someone will come save you,” he mocked, tightening his grip.

Then—

A pause.

A shift in the air.

Then came the sound. Crack.

His grip released instantly, and he staggered sideways, eyes wide with shock as a fist connected clean across his face. His head snapped, and he crashed into a stack of trash cans with a metallic clang, groaning.

The other two barely had time to react.

One charged.

Wrong move.

A swift uppercut to the gut. The sound of air being knocked out. Then a punch to the jaw that sent him down.

The third tried to grab from behind, but the attacker moved with lethal grace—one arm grabbed his shoulder, spun him around, and drove a knee into his stomach. He dropped like dead weight.

Y/N turned, panting, and blinked through the haze of pain.

Seong-je.

Standing in the dim light of the alley, cigarette glowing faintly between his fingers, eyes dark and unreadable.

He looked at the three groaning bodies on the ground. Then, slowly, turned to her.

Y/N tried to pull herself upright. Her back ached, wrist sore, the sting of humiliation and fear still fresh on her face.

She hated this.

Hated being seen like this—by him of all people.

“Why are you here?” she asked, voice barely more than a whisper.

Seong-je didn’t answer. His gaze moved over her—assessing, not in pity, not even concern. Just quietly… furious. Like the sight of her being handled like that had touched something primal in him.

He stepped forward. His cigarette burned at the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t move,” he said simply.

She stood frozen.

He stepped closer, taking off his dark red blazer and gently placing it over her shoulder. It smelled like smoke and faint cologne.

He reached out, and with the back of his hand, gently brushed a smear of dirt from her cheek. Then he ran his fingers through her hair, tucking a clumped, messy strand behind her ear, careful not to touch the bruise forming near her temple.

Her eyes were wide, breath caught in her throat.

He took the cigarette from his mouth, dropped it, and crushed it underfoot.

Her lip trembled, and a single tear slid down her cheek.

His hand hovered—then brushed it away, the pad of his thumb soft against her skin.

For a second, neither of them said anything.

Then he looked her in the eyes, voice low. “You're reckless.”

She held his stare, finally. “So are you.”

A slow smirk curled at the edge of his lips.

“I’m the problem, remember?” he said. “You’re supposed to be the perfect one.”

She swallowed hard.

“I never said I was perfect,” she replied, just as quietly but maintaining the glare.

For a moment, the tension between them was thick and electric. Not loud. Not angry. Just quiet, hot, undeniable. And seeing her so vulnerable made him feel something. A little spark inside him.

He stepped back.

Turned.

And started walking away.

Y/N stood there, blazer draped around her shoulders, the warmth soaking into her skin slowly.

Then—without thinking—she followed.

One foot in front of the other.

She didn’t say a word. Neither did he.

But he knew she was there.

He didn’t look back, didn’t ask questions.

He just let her walk behind him.

And for the first time in a long time, the night didn’t feel so cold.

---

AUTHOR'S NOTE + MASTERLIST

I hope you enjoyed part 1 ^-^ I'll add the other parts soon!!!

#geum seong je x reader #geum seong je #weak hero x reader #geum seongje x reader #weak hero class two #wolf keum

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cherrygirlfriend · 27 days ago

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── SHARING HOODIES ♡

♡ pairing: nerd!rafe x pervert!reader

♡ summary: rafe comes to get you from a party.

♡ warnings / tags: fluff! somewhat nsfw, nudity, annoying m*n.

♡ author's note: inspired by @tinythebunni ‘s request for a reader who wears something skimpy and needs to borrow rafe’s clothes. i hope you like this!! <3 check this if you want to see what she’d wear to a party!

PERV MASTERLIST ♡ RAFE MASTERLIST

"aw, come on rafe!" elijah's voice groaned in rafe's headset, "you suck ass tonight, man. what's the problem?" rafe rolled his eyes as he queued his group for another game, "it's cause his little girlfriend isn't there to support him under the desk." josh snickered.

"shut the hell up, josh." rafe spoke with slight irritation, "at least i have a girlfriend. your longest relationship has been with your right hand." "that's where you're wrong, buddy. i'm a leftie."

they soon started a new game, but when they were halfway through the second round, rafe saw his phone screen start to flash on his desk with an incoming call, the screen displaying your name and a heart after it. rafe was quick to mute his mic and place his headset onto the desk, pressing the green button and putting you on speakerphone as he continued playing. "everything alright?"

"hiiii pumpkin pieeee!" you giggled on the phone, music blasting in the background along with the chatter of other people. rafe chuckled softly; he had known that you'd be going to a party tonight; after all, you'd gotten ready in his room and had tried to convince him to come with you.

"hey, lovebug. i take it you're drunk?" "nooo, i'm just a liiiittle tipsy." you said, and rafe could hear you slurp up a drink and swallow after finishing your sentence, "i'm sure, i'm sure."

"can you come n get me?" you slurred, "'m tired n can't... can't, uh, remember where my dorm is..." "yeah, of course. you're at sigma nu, right?" "mmhm..." "okay, i'll be there in fifteen. go find some water and one of your friends. got it?" "yessir." you snorted, and he hung up the phone and put his headset back on, unmuting himself.

"listen, guys, i'm gonna have to quit." rafe explained as he closed the game mid-match. "what? why the hell?" elijah questioned, "my girl called and asked me to come get her from a party." "damn, i thought it was bros before hoes." josh snarked.

"yeah, well, we're not fifteen anymore. and she's not a hoe, she's my girlfriend. i'll message you guys later." rafe didn't even wait for them to reply, getting off the call and turning off his computer before either boy could utter a syllable. the boy grabbed his things and pulled on his hoodie, quickly rushing out of his dorm.

as soon rafe was outside, he dialed your number, his shoes crunching against the gravel as he walked towards the location of the fraternity you'd told him you were at, but no matter how many rings he waited, you didn't answer.

rafe ran a hand through his sandy hair, hanging up and calling you again. ring, ring, ring, ring, ring... once again, no answer. he bit the inside of his cheek, picking up his pace as he once again tried calling you, to no avail.

once the fraternity house came to view, rafe pocketed his phone, the boom of the bass piercing through his eardrums as soon as he entered the building.

rafe wasn't like you. while you thrived in these environments, huge parties where there were people every corner you turned, floors sticky with booze and other liquids, one sweaty young adult pressing against another, smoke that smelled like cotton candy, music so loud it'd damage anyone's hearing in the long term… rafe had always hated parties.

however rafe's height was an advantage; at 6'2, he was among the tallest at the party, and he hoped it wouldn't be too hard to spot you, his heart beginning to race from worry; what if something had happened to you?

he walked around the living room and even tried calling out your name, but the music booming in the stereos obviously was loud enough to drown out every squeak of his voice, but as he looked around, he didn't seem to spot you.

rafe pulled out his phone and dialed your number once again and kept searching through the living room for anyone who looked familiar, almost unable to hear the rings that signified an outgoing call over the noise of the TOP 50 playlist currently playing.

he went back into the lobby, but just as rafe was about to start really panicking, he saw a familiar figure through the wide archway leading to the kitchen, wearing the same outfit you'd shown off for him in an attempt to convince him to come with you. but his relief was shortlived when he saw the way you were swaying on your feet, the glassiness in your eyes made more pronounced by the fluorescent light above you, rafe's jaw clenching almost out of reflex when he saw the guy chatting you up, his hand on your bare arm. rafe took a deep breath as he made his way to the kitchen, beelining straight to you.

"are you okay?" rafe leaned down slightly to look into your glassy eyes, tugging the stranger's hand off you in a less-than friendly manner. "hey dude, i was here first. go find some other chick." the stranger scoffed, making rafe straighten up and look at him in irritation, narrowing his eyes at the other boy.

"hey dude, keep your hands off girls who are too drunk to even stand properly. this is my girlfriend." "that's your girlfriend?" the stranger let out something between an incredulous scoff and a snort, while rafe simply ignored him, more worried about you. "buggy, are you okay?" he asked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"you came." you smiled up at him softly, letting yourself practically crash into your boyfriend's side, "this douche is bothering me..." you mumbled, making rafe chuckle softly as he snaked his arm around you. the other guy simply rolled his eyes and mumbled some insult under his breath as he started walking away. "let's get you home, yeah?" rafe wasn't even sure if you heard what he was saying, but you simply smiled and nodded nonetheless.

rafe's arm was tightly wrapped around you as he led you out of the loud frat house and into the cool night air, starting to walk back towards the dormitories. he was too focused on trying to get you back to the dorms to notice the way your teeth were starting to chatter and the way your skin was forming goosebumps until you let out a quiet mumble, "rafeyyy... 'm cold..."

his eyes widened as he looked down at you, clad only in a top and a miniskirt. rafe sighed as he detached from you, a childish whine leaving your lips, thinking he did it because he didn't want to hold onto you anymore. rafe's t-shirt rode up slightly and his hair got messed up when he took off his snoopy-themed hoodie, turning to you, "lift your arms up, buggy."

you did as he said, and your boyfriend pulled the hoodie onto you, basically having to guide your arms into the arm holes of the hoodie, but when you finally had the hoodie on, rafe let out a small chuckle as he looked you up and down. for some reason, seeing you wearing his clothes always managed to make your boyfriend's heart race like crazy, even if it was something as silly as a snoopy hoodie.

"what's so funny?" you pouted, the hood still over your head, "nothing." he shrugged, wrapping his arm around you once again and starting to lead you towards the dorms, "it's just that... the hoodie is longer than your skirt."

"it's your fault for being freakishly tall, you damn beanstalk." you mumbled as you leaned into him. "or your skirts are freakishly short..." "prude." you stuck your tongue out at him, "acting like you weren't admiring the way i looked in this before i left." rafe felt his cheeks warm at your words, letting out an incredulous scoff as you simply giggled as he continued leading you towards the dormitory.

after about ten minutes of you wobbling and putting most of your weight on the side that was pressed against rafe, the two of you finally arrived at the boys' dormitory, "alright, try and be quiet." rafe said to you, rubbing his hand up and down your hoodie-clad arm. you simply responded by bringing your pointer finger to your lips and hushing, rafe unable to help the small smile on his face from how adorable he found it.

once you got to rafe's room, your boyfriend helped you to his bed where you immediately collapsed onto the mattress, letting out a moan of relief, making rafe feel slightly ashamed for the stirring he felt in his pants. he cleared his throat as he walked to the bed, "baby, you should take your clothes off first." "can't you do it…?" you mumbled, "are you sure?" "'s not the first time you've seen me naked, rafe."

rafe started with your heels, carefully peeling them from your feet, pressing a few kisses on each leg as he removed them. then he moved up onto the bed, lifting the hem of the hoodie as his long fingers slowly pulled down the zipper on your skirt, shimmying the fabric off, slight indents left on your stomach. rafe pressed soft kisses on each of your thighs, soft hums leaving your lips. "lift your arms up, love." he mumbled softly, and you did as he said; at once rafe pulled the hoodie off along with your top, throwing them onto the floor.

rafe trailed warm kisses leading from the waistband of your panties up to the underwire of your bra, before pulling back, "can i take this off?" he asked softly, and you nodded. rafe's hands slowly slid from the front of your bra to the back, until he found the clasp. you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding when you felt the clasp come free, allowing rafe to slide the straps down your arms and discard your bra.

rafe's hands softly massaged the indents of the underwire, pulling a sigh of relief from you, "do you want to borrow a shirt from me to sleep in?" he asked softly, but you shook your head and spoke softly, "can we just sleep like this? both of us?"

rafe's cheeks reddened slightly, but he nodded and tugged his shirt off, throwing it amongst your clothing. he then continued on to pull down the waistband of his sweats, kicking them off onto the floor and settling into bed.

you pulled the covers over both your heads with a quiet, mischievous chuckle, looking into his eyes, "does my breath stink?" "like a brewery." rafe said softly, and despite his words, he still brought his lips to yours, your bare chest pressed against his, rafe's hand sliding down to your back.

as he pulled away from the kiss, rafe trailed his finger up and down your spine, goosebumps forming on your sensitive skin. you nuzzled closer to him, feeling the warmth of his chest on your face, the two of you whispering sweet nothings to one another under the blanket, soft, drunken giggles escaping the little bubble you'd created.

"rafe...?" you mumbled quietly, your eyelids feeling heavier by the second, "yeah?" he answered, his fingertips still tracing your spine, "thank you for coming to get me..." at your words, rafe let out a quiet huff of a laughter against your shoulder.

"you never need to thank me for something like that. if you call me, i'll come."

TAGLIST: @raahosh @nemesyaaa @purpleplumpudding @littlelamy @dollyfiles @esotericcangel @mattyskies @bakugouswaif @nonietosay @my-name-is-baby @tinythebunni @fratbrochrisgf @ariieeesworld @izumis-salty-penis @cameronsbabydoll

join my taglist here ♡

#nerd!rafe #♡ pervert!reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron obx #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron thoughts

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orimuraa · 2 months ago

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• My lips don’t lie - 西村力 ↳ ┊: lips - ive

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆starting your new job wasn’t easy whatsoever, however, there was one person who made it so much worse…or better? ⨾

۶ৎ choreographer!ni-ki x fem makeup artist!reader┆fluff, angst, crack┆slight age gap? (2 years), enemies to lovers, ni-ki tries to be nonchalant about his feelings┆teasing, petnames, reader has a panic attack, kissing, crying┆wc 2.4k

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: thank you to the anon who requested! i hope it’s okay >//<

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

you got insanely lucky for your first real job. you had secured a spot on the styling team of a k-pop group at the age of 18. it paid pretty good and it wasn’t something you would ever get bored of.

traveling the world, doing makeup and hair, it was all you could ever ask for.

the only bad thing about this job was a singular co-worker. nishimura riki.

he was a dancer from japan and he had been hired a couple years before you to be the choreographer for the group.

for some reason, this man could not stand you. you had no idea what you did to deserve his snarly remarks or his relentless teasing, but it happened. maybe it was because you were new and an easy target for picking on. or maybe it was because he was just a jerk.

“i don’t know what i did,” you whine to your fellow makeup artist, jiyeon. you had come to befriend all of the makeup artist team and you had all gotten very close, many if them treating you like their baby.

“it’s so weird! he was never like this with anyone else?” jiyeon ponders, scrunching her eyebrows.

you continued cleaning your makeup brushes while just thinking to yourself, letting the conversation of your co-workers blend into the background.

“hey! you’re gonna ruin those brushes, aren’t you?” him. his obnoxiously deep voice that never failed to send shivers down your spine.

turning around, you’re met with a 6 foot giant, smirking down at you as he tell you how to do your job. ridiculous!

“no, i’m not,” you bite back, losing your patience with him. you let out a sigh, setting down the brushes and trying to control yourself.

“woahh, chill, i’m just trynna help,” he laughs, putting his hands up in surrender. to be quite honest, ni-ki had no idea why he treated you like this either.

the first day you walked in, clad in your little white dress over your patched jeans, your hair styled too perfectly, and a smile too pretty adorning your lips. he didn’t like the way it made his heart race. he didn’t like the way it made him smile.

so, for some reason, he resulted in pushing you out, not letting you get too close. he was scared of letting his guard down around people. he was scared because of the past.

even still, every time he steps a little too close to you, his breath will hitch slightly and his heart starts to beat a little too fast.

your eyes said it all. you were pissed and you were not putting up with his behavior right now.

“ni-ki, i am trying to do my job and it’d be very nice for you to just leave me alone right now,” you grit through your teeth.

“alright alright, i’m leaving princess,” he chuckles lowly.

“don’t call me that!” you snarl, your patience hanging on for dear life. but ni-ki just smirks once again before leaving the room.

“oh my gosh he totally likes you,” yusu, another co-worker, gasps.

“yusu!!! don’t encourage it! besides, he literally hates my guts! i haven’t done anything wrong to him and he treats me like this!” you whine, pouting at the pink haired girl.

she just laughs and pats your head, saying: “you’ll be fine!! he’ll most likely come around eventually!”

you roll your eyes at that. like that would ever happen.

a big comeback was coming up for the group, meaning that lots of preparations needed to be made.

unfortunately, you didn’t expect this much stress as it was a full album instead of a mini album—which was what you were used to.

“y/n ssi! i’m going to put you in charge of all the eye makeup for filming today, okay? i want them to look similar and you’re the best at it!” the director smiles, making you feel both proud and anxious.

not even seconds later, another directer ran up to you: “oh! y/n ssi! can you please do the hair styles for the members? i know you’re pretty good at that and i think this concept is your strong suit,” she asked, rushing away before you could even agree.

great. now you had eye makeup and hairstyles for all the members. totally manageable.

there was quite a bit of chaos in the prep room. the members were quietly chatting with each other, some filming some behind the scenes, some practicing the dance, and some locking in to get ready for filming.

you kinda lost track of what was going on as you started to feel your head spin a bit, losing a bit of your balance.

“oh- y/n? are you alright? do you need to sit down?” one of the members asked you, concern written all over his face. these boys were always so sweet and they always cared for their staff, making you appreciate them even more.

but right now, it was hard to even focus as there was a searing pain that hit your head. suddenly, the room started to feel a bit too crowded, spots appearing in your vision and your breathing becoming a bit too labored.

“sit her down!”

“no! get her out! she needs air!”

there was a bunch of shouting around you and you weren’t sure who was talking anymore. that was until a voice caught your attention.

“y/n? hey? you here? look at me, yeah?” his voice. the deep concern his voice echoed as he tried to speak as softly as possible to you.

you looked at the boy, eyes staring straight into his. since when were nishimura riki’s eyes so pretty? and since when did he have that mole under his eye?

“hey! there you are, let’s get you outside okay?” he smiles softly. he laces his hands with yours and gently pulls you up, securing you as you stumbled a bit.

you didn’t notice the way the members were smiling at you, glad that their choreographer knew how to take care of you.

once you made it outside, you took a deep breath before collapsing into ni-ki’s embrace.

“thank you,” you mumble softly, enjoying his comfort. you never thought he would be this kind to you, and it kinda caught you off guard. but you had desperately needed a hug and he was inviting you to take it.

“it’s the least i could do,” he replies, his voice calming your nerves. he gave you a couple minuted of silence to collect yourself, assuming you probably had a panic attack.

“stress?” was all he asked, his eyes still staring at the cars passing by. you look at him, tilting you head slightly.

“yeah i guess so…just…overwhelming. i guess i’m not used to it just yet,” you try to laugh it off.

“hey? it’s okay to be overwhelmed, okay? this job is stressful and you’re handling it amazingly. you got this,” he reassured, looking you in the eye.

you were a but stunned by his words as this was the first time he had ever been so nice to you.

“thanks ni-ki…that meant a lot,” you smile back, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“anytime,” he replies, standing up and signaling to go back inside. “i’ll let them know you can’t do it all without some help. you shouldn’t be doing all this as the newest addition to the team.”

and maybe it made your heart flutter. and maybe it made you hate nishimura riki a little less.

that’s what was so weird. he wasn’t mean anymore, he was nice. you didn’t even think that was in his vocabulary for goodness sake’s! he started bringing you coffee the next morning, knowing you were up at an ungodly hour just to start preparing the boys for mv shooting.

he stopped bugging you about not doing your job correctly and started admiring the way you worked instead. you weren’t sure if you liked it, or it freaked you out because maybe ni-ki was replaced by an alien.

“how come you’ve been so nice lately? i didn’t know you had it in you,” you laugh, nudging ni-ki’s shoulder one break.

“yah! i can be nice! i just…needed to warm up i guess,” he muttered, rubbing the bag of his neck and looking away so you didn’t see the blush that coated his cheeks.

“uh huh…sureee,” you snort, taking a bite of your lunch. “whatever, i like you better like this.”

“you..you like me?” ni-ki coughed, his eyebrows furrowed.

“y-yeah! you actually seem to be a pretty decent co-worker,” you cover up, not sure if you were ready to confess your full feelings.

you weren’t sure why that made your heart sink and ni-ki didn’t either.

“right. co-workers,” he nodded, though his tone didn’t match his eyes. you both sat there in an awkward silence before ni-ki cleared his throat, excusing himself and saying he had to run over the choreo with some of the members again.

you were so lost in thought, you didn’t hear yusu walk in and sit herself down next to you.

“soo��are you falling?” she asks, her tone skeptical.

“i don’t even know,” you sigh. “i think i like him but do you think he likes me?” you pout, everything feeling so complicated.

“ynnie, he’s so in love with you. he always has these little heart eyes when you walk in and he’s so sweet to you now! i think he’s just unsure about how to handle his feelings. he had a nasty breakup a couple years back and it was awful..his choreo was sloppy and he was horrible at teaching at that time. it was bad…” yusu recalls, touching a finger to her chin as she thought.

“well that just means he’s not ready, right?” you sigh for the millionth time.

“no! what it means is that you make him feel different and he’s scared that he’s gonna get broken again and doesn’t know how to approach his feelings!” yusu exclaims, not enjoying your obliviousness.

oh.

“so what am i supposed to do??” you whine, ready to go dig a hole and cry in it.

“you slowly get him to trust you—which i think he already does. but he needs to open up and let you in,” she smiles, packing up her stuff for the day.

so now you had to gain ni-ki’s trust. got it..

things were bad..you were struggling with your bills and you were on the verge of losing it. not to mention, ni-ki had been super cold to you these past few days, making things even more unpleasant.

he would ignore you in the hallways and barely look at you when you were in the same room.

he was back to his teasing—except this time it came in forms of harsh criticism.

“y/n can you work faster? the boys need to be on stage in 5!” he scoffed, venom laced in his voice. you had no idea what you had done to make him cold again but you hated it.

maybe he found out that you liked him and now he hates you for it? or maybe he realized you’re just really unpleasant to be around and now hates you.

one day, you were at music bank super early to get the boys ready for their comeback special. your taxes were filing in and it was hard to keep track of it all. your mom had needed a bunch of money to stay in her assisted living care and it was really eating at your salary.

and today was the icing on the cake.

“y/n! they need the makeup done in 3! jesus, what are you even doing?!” he snapped, making many of the staff and members uncomfortable, including you.

you felt everything crash down and all of your problems come flooding out. tears pricked at your eyes but you wouldn’t cry. not in front of him.

“excuse me,” you managed to squeak out before running out of the room.

you found an empty green room and quickly shuffled into it. you sat on the couch, head in your hands and tears rolling down your nose, cheeks, and chin.

everything was going wrong and the world hated you. at some point, your muffled cries made their ways out of your hand and soon echoed in the room.

a shuffle at the door made you whip up to see who was there, instinctively wiping your eyes to attempt the tears to stop.

there, stood ni-ki in the door frame, a different look adorning his face. something mixed either concern and regret.

“what do you want?” you sniffle, wiping your nose.

ni-ki locks eyes with you before letting out a sigh and walking over to the sofa you were on.

“i’m sorry…i don’t know why i’ve been so cruel to you these past few days..i think i got scared because i felt something a little too real and i got scared..i didn’t want it to end up like last time,” he said, looking you straight in the eye. “i guess i thought that if i pushed you out, the feelings would stop.”

“ni-ki…i want you to know that i still like you even after all this..i would wait as ling as it takes for you to recover just so i could be with you. that past week made me realize that i really like you and you make me happy—like, really happy,” you mumble the last part, your cheeks flushing red.

“i had a horrible breakup a couple years ago and i guess it just made me scared to feel things..i just didn’t want to be hurt anymore,” ni-ki says. “but i want to try with you. i feel like i can be myself around you and i would do anything to make up for my awful behavior.”

suddenly, the room felt like it was just you two in the space and nothing else. ni-ki’s hand found your waist while the other one cupped your cheek gently.

“can i kiss you?” he whispered. you nod and that’s all he needs to lean in.

his lips fit perfectly against yours and it feels like the final piece of a puzzle.

the kiss is soft yet passionate, tender with his apology.

when you pull away, his eyes are twinkling and you suddenly feel the butterflies again. you lean your forehead against his and stay like that for a bit.

“let me be yours,” ni-ki says against your lips, his own brushing against yours as he spoke.

“i’d like that. very much so,” you giggle, closing the gap with another kiss.

yeah, maybe it was a cliché office enemies to lovers, but it gave you a happy ending, making it all okay.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𝐉𝐢𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy, @hyukabean, @annybah, @ijustwannareadstuff20, @chaeneu, @17ericas, @firstclassjaylee, @riribelle, @right-person-wrong-time, @cheruphic, @woniefication, @melodiessvy, @soona-huh, @kiwicup, @yuuuraaa

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athenalvss · 2 months ago

Text

SECRET LANGUAGE ( circus! batmom )

summary: Batmom and Dick have a different connection than with the rest of the family, they even have their own language, causing the rest of the family to become exasperated.

pairing: batmom x batfam

open request — batmom masterlist

Although Batmom loves and protects all members of the Batfam equally, she shares a special bond with Dick Grayson. It wasn't about favoritism or privilege —there never was— there was simply something different about the connection between them. And while the rest of the kids understood (more or less), that didn't stop them from raising a fuss whenever something clearly exclusive happened between batmom and Dick. How dare they have inside jokes about their past lives right in front of them? Give each other those silent glances that sparked entire conversations without saying a word? It was outrageous!

Except for Bruce, he had given up a few years ago, he could never win his wife, and he wasn't trying either.

── .✦

Between them, they have a sort of visual code developed over the years: raised eyebrows, half-winks, tapping the table... any excuse to silently mock some absurd situation. The rest of the Batfam pretends not to notice, but they're fed up. How could they be left out of this?

That's why everyone was there gathered in one of the rooms of the big Wayne manor, well... "everyone" is a way of saying, everyone was there except you, Bruce and Dick, but the rest of the family was there sitting on the armchairs while they watched Tim enter with his computer.

Tim walked into the room with a confident stride, and with a satisfied smile, he projected the image, showing his hard work. "Welcome to the secret meeting of the marginalized children" he reached the center of the room, causing everyone to look at him, leaving a PowerPoint presentation titled "Spy Project: Sign Language According to Batmom" in the background.

"Does it have an index?" Steph asked, already taking mental notes.

"Of course it has an index" Tim replied, opening the first slide. "Section one: The gestures. Section two: The looks. Section three: Revenge on Dick."

"Shouldn't we call Bruce too?" Duke asked, a hint of hesitation in his voice.

"Bruce? Bruce gave up years ago," Jason said. "And he can't help, he doesn't even try to guess what they're saying."

Tim changed the slide. A slow-motion video showed a kitchen scene from two weeks ago: you, pouring coffee; Dick, leaning on the island; both of you shooting each other a quick glance… followed by a synchronized laugh. No one else was laughing. Just the two of you.

"See that? That was a complete, wordless joke! Wordless!" Tim exclaimed, pointing the laser pointer at the screen.

"And right after, Dick told me he was laughing at the dog on the news. Blatant lie!" Jason shouted indignantly.

Just as Tim was getting into the most important part of his analysis—a slide titled “The Raised Eyebrow: Criticism or Mockery?”—the door softly opened.

"And what are you all doing together? I like it, but it's weird," you asked with a relaxed smile, walking in with several recyclable paper bags in your arms.

Dick appeared right behind you, also laden with bags, and said with disarming ease "We went to get things for dinner. Mom wanted to make her lasagna, you know…"

The entire room froze. Everyone stared at the projector screen, which was still showing a snapshot of the two of you in what appeared to be an intense telepathic conversation during a gala.

Jason was the first to react, standing up from the chair with his arms raised. "I TOLD YOU WE HAD TO GO SOMEWHERE ELSE."

"What's all this?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dick looked at the screen, then at the group, then at you. "Were we being spied on?"

"Spying is a very hard word, it's just a deep analysis of your gestural conspiracy," Tim exclaimed normally.

"We call it... emotional connection" you said, calmly putting down the bags.

"And we call it 'betrayal,'" Damian muttered, arms crossed, visibly hurt.

"It's not treason if we've always been like this," Dick added with a smile.

"That doesn't make it better!" they all shouted at the same time.

You and Dick looked at each other. Raised eyebrow. Smile. And then you burst out laughing without saying anything.

Jason covered his face with his hands. "Of course they're doing it again. In our faces. No shame whatsoever."

Bruce watched silently from the stairs, nursing a cup of coffee. "I told you not to try to decipher it."

── .✦

The Wayne Manor dining room table was, as always, a battlefield disguised as a family dinner.

"You have to accept that Red Hood is a better public figure than you!" Jason bellowed, pointing his fork at Tim, who barely dodged it.

"Public figure? Please, your reputation is half a step away from an arrest warrant," Tim replied quietly, but with venom in every word.

"Tch. He's got it, Pathetic," Damian muttered from his spot, not even looking at the others, busy cutting his steak with surgical precision.

Bruce sighed. He said nothing, as usual. Alfred, stoic, poured more water with the elegance of someone who has seen a thousand wars at that table and survived them all. Amid all that noise, you leaned back a little in her chair and looked at Dick, who was sitting across the table. He wore a stoic expression, but when he felt your gaze, he raised his eyes. And then it happened: that knowing look.

It was barely a second. A meeting of eyes with a restrained smile, a slightly raised eyebrow on your part, and a slight nod from him. A silent gesture that said:

"Same thing again?"

"Always the same."

They both held back their laughter at the same time, as if they'd rehearsed it. No more need be said.

"Are you laughing at us?" Damian snapped, his fork in the air.

"No," you and Dick replied, perfectly in sync.

"Here we go again..." Tim muttered, "This isn't normal!"

"We're not doing this on purpose," they both said, again, at the same time.

Jason brought his napkin to his face. "Okay, this is disturbing."

"Have you been practicing?" Steph asked.

"No" you said in unison, and this time they looked at each other immediately after, holding back their laughter.

"Enough!" Tim shot up from his seat. "They literally have a secret script! It's like they share a neural chip!"

Alfred, unperturbed, poured more water. "I must say, master Tim, this has been going on for so many years that I'm surprised you're still alarmed."

"Thank you, Alfred," both said at the same time, without even looking at each other.

Bruce sighed and muttered, more to himself than to anyone else, "I never had a chance to fight."

Damian, arms crossed and looking annoyed, grunted. "This is unbelievable."

"No," Jason said, "It's a cult, and we're not part of it."

Dick shrugged at the same time as you. "We're not that predictable," you chorused.

and in unison they all shouted: "YOU SAID IT AGAIN!"

── .✦

It was a quiet night. Miraculously quiet. Everyone was sitting in the living room, no missions or alarms. Even Bruce was relaxed—relatively so—with a glass of wine in his hand. It was one of those family reunion nights they had every Friday night.

Tim was lounging on a beanbag with his laptop, Jason was flipping through a magazine without really reading, Damian was trying to teach chess to Steph, who was just moving the pieces around to annoy him. Alfred was passing by with a tray of cookies, ignoring the chaos with his trademark dignity.

But on the main couch, away from the rest, Bruce, Dick, and Batmom were surrounded by photo albums. They'd started under the guise of "organizing memories," but had clearly fallen into a nostalgic spiral.

Suddenly, a photo caught my eye: You were younger in that image, dressed in your iconic illusionist outfit, black top hat, black and white suit, with a shiny cape that reflected the light, and Dick, barely ten years old, in a tiny trapeze artist's outfit, smiling as he hung from a rope. The image showed a moment in the circus, when they were a different family, before Bruce came into their lives.

"It was fun living in the circus," you looked at the photos with a touch of nostalgia. "Except when the tiger escaped."

Dick immediately burst out laughing. "That was just one time! And technically, he didn't run away…"

"It's true, he didn't escape, you let him out."

The laughter shared between the two of you filled the room like an echo from the past. Bruce watched you with a mixture of curiosity and resignation.

"Were you always like this?" he asked, half joking, half serious.

"So how?" you asked with feigned innocence, while sharing a quick glance with Dick.

Bruce frowned as he watched from his seat, confused. "Was that a sign?"

"No," you and Dick answered in unison, with the same smile, that tone that made it clear it wasn't the first time they'd done it.

Bruce sighed. "But what does that tap on the arm just now mean?"

"Nothing" you said again, while Dick tried not to laugh.

"Liars" Bruce said with a resigned smile.

Then, very slowly, Bruce raised both eyebrows, tapped the table, and looked directly at Dick. There was a second of silence. Dick looked at him, you looked at him. And you both blinked, surprised.

"I've been practicing," Bruce said, with a hint of satisfaction.

"You did well, darling," patting him gently on the arm that was around your shoulders.

At that moment, from across the room:

"What's going on now?!" Jason yelled, throwing up his arms as if he'd just been betrayed.

"Bruce speaks your secret language too!?" Tim almost choked on his popcorn.

"This is... unacceptable," Damian muttered, squinting.

"Welcome to the club," Dick said, raising his glass to Bruce.

"They'll never understand," you whispered in Bruce's ear, smiling.

"I know. And it's glorious," he replied, his expression completely serene as chaos erupted around him.

#imagine jason todd #imagine dick grayson #batmom x dick grayson #jason todd x batmom #batmom x batman #imagine bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #damian wayne x batmom #batmom x batfamily #batfam masterlist #batfam x batmom #batfam fluff

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traveler-at-heart · 1 month ago

Text

An odd pair

Nerdy!Nat x F!R - AU set in college. Natasha is a junior, R is a sophomore.

Summary: Natasha is perfectly fine with her lonely college life, until she gets a new roommate that comes with her own group of friends.

A/N: Very special thanks to @jujuu23, @jedi-luca, @caitviers, @ys4b31l4 and @littlegaybutterflysblog for reading this and giving me their feedback. I wasn't sure about posting, but their kind comments encouraged me to share this. This is the first chapter, let's see how long it takes for them to get together ;)

New year, new me.

That’s what most people would say. Even if it wasn’t a new year, just a new semester; Natasha had noticed her peers and their need to reinvent themselves. Promises to be better, more (attractive, fun, desirable), date, go to parties, be one of the cool kids.

None of them had any desire to actually be better at school stuff, which is why she never got along with her peers. And either way, Natasha wasn’t looking to make any changes to her life. Everything was perfectly functional.

Her schedule, her privacy, her dorm. She had managed to find one all to herself, as most students were looking for something closer to campus. This building was the farthest one, and most people who lived here were a semester or two away from graduation, too tired to keep up with the expectations.

Unfortunately for Natasha, something is different as she walks in the dorm.

“What..?” she says, looking around.

No, this is a mistake. She was supposed to have it all to herself, even if the dorm was for two people.

There are boxes. And dishes. Makeup and cleaning products in the bathroom.

Worst of all.

Music.

Very loud music.

“Do you believe in magic?” a girl with auburn hair sings as she walks out of the room, carrying some clothes. Natasha is about to ask what’s going on when the other girl looks up. “You lost?”

“This is my place” Natasha says, trying to not sound annoyed.

“Oh, so we’re roommates!” the girl’s demeanor immediately changes. “Hi, I’m Wanda”

“Natasha. Are you sure you got the right address? This building is so far away from the main campus…”

“Yeah, I know. It’s all my idiot brother’s fault” Wanda says, rolling her eyes as she walks to the kitchen. “We were living in a place outside of campus but he dropped out of college to start his business. Made the last minute call and I can’t afford the place myself. This is the only thing the accommodation office had available”

Natasha’s trying to pay attention, but Wanda’s examining the drawers, moving things around. It makes Natasha uneasy.

She has a system. She doesn’t like it when someone else messes with her stuff.

Wanda keeps talking about the cabinets, how to split the space in the fridge. Cleaning duties, toilet paper…

It makes Natasha’s head spin.

New semester. And apparently a new roommate.

—

You should have known she was full of shit.

Ten minute walk my ass.

It took twice to get to Wanda’s new place. If she had just listened to you, she wouldn’t have to settle for whatever it is the accommodation office threw at her.

Either way, you knock while texting, waiting for her to talk your ear off about how the place isn’t that bad and she loves it (again, you call bullshit).

“Nice place, was the spot under the bridge taken?” you say as soon as the door opens, still looking at your phone.

At the silence, you raise your eyes and meet green eyes. These are different than Wanda’s. They have a certain warmth, but also an irritation that almost makes you falter.

“Can I help you?”

“Uh, maybe I have the wrong place. I’m looking for Wanda” you check the number outside the door.

“She lives here” the girl says, almost sounding annoyed. “I think she's out"

Natasha’s almost certain that Wanda’s not here because when she is, there’s always a sitcom playing in the background while she does the rest of her stuff. How the hell will she deal with all the noise?

Like clockwork, you get a text from Wanda. She went out grocery shopping because she was starving and promises she’ll be home in ten minutes.

So twenty.

“Can I wait for her inside?” you ask with a defeated sigh.

“Are you a friend or something?”

“No. I’m actually her parole officer”

“What?”

“Shit!” you laugh at the girl’s expression. “I’m sorry, I’m joking. Yes, she’s my friend, since middle school”

“Oh”

There’s something about the girl’s demeanor that makes you want to get a rise out of her. So you lean on the door, biting your lip.

“Can I come in now? Or do I have to ask pretty please?”

“Sorry, yeah” she stutters at the flirty look you give her, walking away from the door. As you get inside, looking around the place, Natasha begins to pick up her things to go to her room. “I’ll just be out of your way”

“No, this is your place, I’ll stay in her room”

“It’s fine…”

“Or… we could just share the couch?” you smile, walking slowly as she keeps gathering her notebooks. “Sorry, I didn’t get your name”

“Natasha”

“Natasha” you repeat, nodding. “That’s beautiful”

“T-thank you” Natasha blushes, struggling with the papers on the coffee table.

You approach her slowly, reading over her shoulder.

“Interesting”

“Hey!”

She looks over at you, not realising how close you actually are up until now, and you smile at her with a shit eating grin.

“Ok, I’m sitting down now. You a freshman?” you ask, following her with your eyes as she finally gets all the papers where she was writing.

“Junior”

“Oh, really? How come I’ve never seen you around?”

Not like you’re the most popular kid in school, and it’s a big college, but Natasha stands out to you with her beauty, and you would have definitely remember seeing her around campus.

“I’m mostly at the library. Or home” Natasha says, hovering over the space next to you. You’re smiling up at her, in a way that makes it very clear you’re not stopping the conversation anytime soon.

It would be rude to just leave.

With a defeated sigh, she sits down next to you, looking at her hands.

“What’s your major?”

“Biochemistry”

“Oh, yeah, then we are definitely in different parts of campus all the time. I’m a History major and Wanda’s in Psychology”

“Cool. That’s interesting”

“No parties in Biochemistry?”

“Not that many. And I’m not interested either” Natasha looks at her hands. She’s expecting a joke at her expense, or a comment on how boring that sounds, but all you do is lean your head against the couch and sigh.

“Honestly, I promised myself I wouldn’t go to many parties this semester but I’m not sure now. You don’t have to worry about parties here though. Wanda never does that”

“Right” Natasha says, blushing again as she realises you got to read some of the stuff she wrote.

A list of things that could potentially go wrong with a roommate, variables to consider, rules, schedules.

“Honestly, Wanda is a good roommate. Her brother was the one that’s a bit of a mess. And she cooks so much food all the time, you’ll always have something to eat”

“That doesn’t sound so bad”

“She just brings over boys and they get sooo loud”

“Really?” Natasha turns red and you place your hand over your mouth to keep from laughing. “Hey, not funny”

“A little bit. Sorry, it’s just… very easy to tease you” you say with a smile.

It makes Natasha look away as she plays with her hands.

You like how she blushes a little too much.

When she looks at you with those beautiful green eyes, you’re about to ask something else when Wanda walks in, carrying five bags of groceries.

“I’m making paprikash tonight!” she announces with a smile.

“Stark’s party is tonight” you say.

“I’m making paprikash tomorrow!” she corrects, placing stuff in the fridge. “You like it, right, Nat?”

“Never had it”

“Oh, you’ll love it” Wanda says like an overbearing mother. You roll your eyes, looking at Natasha with an amused expression as Wanda keeps stuffing the fridge with food. Walking up to her, you inspect her work over her shoulder.

“Leave space for your roommate, Maximoff”

“Right. Sorry. There. I can fit everything in this little shelf right here”

“Ok, then get ready, we have to meet with Darcy and then we’ll go to the party” you follow her around, knowing it’s the only way to make sure you leave on time.

Natasha stays rooted to the couch, looking at her hands as she tries not to think of how she actually wanted to keep talking to you. You probably don’t even remember she exists.

“Sure, help me pick an outfit?” Wanda says, starting an episode of I Love Lucy at full volume.

“Don’t be loud. You know Pietro was used to it, because he had to listen to you since you shared a womb”

“Fine, I’ll play some music instead” she sighs. “You’re being so annoying today”

“Yeah, you made me walk twenty minutes out of main campus. And pack a bag, I’m definitely not walking you all the way here after the party, you’re staying with us”

Wanda keeps chatting and trying on clothes, but your attention turns to Natasha. Just like that, you made sure Wanda’s aware of the noise she makes around her new roommate, and you also gave Natasha a much needed break for the rest of the evening, because you could tell she was overwhelmed.

When Natasha finally looks up, her shoulders visibly relaxing, you wink at her, and enjoy how she blushes once again.

—

Over the course of the next couple of weeks, Natasha and you cross paths. It’s always when you’re visiting Wanda, because true to her word, Natasha only leaves her dorm for classes and the weekend trip to the library.

Natasha’s fully convinced that Wanda’s been keeping the volume of her music and tv shows down because you nag her about it, which she appreciates.

Except she doesn’t understand why you do it. Every time you’re over at the dorm, you go out of your way to make small talk with Natasha. You ask about classes, anything she’s got going on beside that. She wasn’t expecting this kind of friendliness, and she also doesn’t know how to respond to it. A big part of Natasha is convinced you’re doing it out of pity, because it’s so obvious she has no friends. Not that you ever run into each other outside of the dorm, but she’d not expect for you to reach out to her or acknowledge her presence.

Which is why she’s so taken aback when she’s walking to the library one afternoon and hears someone calling her name.

She’d recognise the sweet timber of your voice anywhere. She also tries to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as you approach her.

“Hey, Nat! First time seeing you outside of the dorm” you smile at her. The redhead adjusts her backpack, pushing her glasses up her nose. “You look… uh, nice glasses”

You were about to say cute, but changed your mind at the last minute.

Coward.

“I need a book for my Organic Chem class and apparently they only have it at Foster Library”

“Well, it’s a nice day out for a walk, isn’t it? Mind if I join you?”

Natasha opens her mouth, refraining from asking why. She has no idea what to say to you or how to make small talk, but you’re smiling at her as if the idea of a walk together would make your whole day. So, she just nods and resumes her journey.

“I have to go to my Imperial Russia class but that’s not for another half hour” you say, walking next to her. “What about you?”

“I’m done for the day. But I do have a lot of assignments” she sighs, looking at you out of the corner of her eye.

“Same, might have to skip partying for the weekend”

“So, Imperial Russia?”

“I think it’s fascinating. Well, all history, really, it has been a nightmare to choose my courses. I wanna go to every single class”

“My sister got obsessed with the idea that she was a lost Romanov princess” Natasha says, smiling and relaxing at the memory. “I think we all had to sit through Anastasia at least once a week”

“Oh, that’s cute. Does she look like Anastasia or something?” you say, a little confused.

“Oh, no… we are from Russia. And our family name is Romanoff” she clarifies, blushing. You laugh at that, holding on to her arm and leaning forward.

“That seems like a very big coincidence. Are you sure you’re not remotely related to them?” you tease.

“Very” she clears her throat, trying to calm her racing heart at your sudden proximity.

Luckily for her, you wait outside while she gets the books she needs for class. Natasha was expecting you to use the library as an excuse to keep walking to class, but you insist on waiting for her.

Is she supposed to walk you to class? It would mean going out of her way, while you were just going along her path as it was convenient for you. Deciding it would be weird to follow you around campus, Natasha is ready to say goodbye, but you’re waiting by the entrance, two disposable cups in hand.

“Chocolate or coffee?” you say. You had no idea what she liked, so you got two different things.

“Whichever is fine” she hurries to say, taking a cup from your hand. Her blush only increases when your fingers graze against hers, and you smile.

Natasha tries not to grimace at the bitter taste of coffee. She would have prefered something sweeter, but she’ll never say it. It’s bad enough you went through the trouble of getting her something.

“I’ll walk you to class” she decides, surprising even herself.

“Really? You don’t have to. I know you’ll have to walk back home”

“It’s ok” she says, though her heart and stomach are telling a different story. You nod appreciatively, and walk by her side to Pullman Hall, where most of your classes take place.

“Do you speak any Russian?” you ask, suddenly shy.

“Yeah, Mom made sure we learned it. Though sometimes I wish I didn’t understand the conversations she has with dad”

“Wow” you laugh at that, and that makes Natasha smile. She likes to be the reason you’re happy.

Whatever that means.

“I was asking because sometimes I just feel like I’m not entirely getting something in class, like it gets lost in translation, you know?”

“Yeah, I can imagine”

Natasha had to struggle with living with a father that couldn’t really grasp everything in the English language, while she and her sister were basically native speakers. Most of the time, it was harmless misunderstandings.

“So, if you’re ever free, and I’m struggling with something, would you be able to help me?” you say. Natasha misses the way you blush, too busy hiding her own.

“Yeah, of course”

“I can pay you. Or we could go out for dinner. A movie. Whatever you want”

Natasha is about to answer, when you hear someone call for you. Darcy, your roommate and friend, is fast approaching, but she has a murderous glare.

“You finished the orange juice and didn’t get more” she whisper yells, not even acknowledging Natasha’s presence.

“It was about to expire. I may have saved your life.” you try to joke.

“Don’t be a smartass. You’re paying for pizza next movie night. See you at home”

“Yeah, yeah” you roll your eyes. Natasha plays with the strap of her backpack and you have to control the urge of reaching out to hold her hand. “I should get to class. Thanks for walking me”

“Thanks for the coffee. See you around”

“Definitely” you nod, smiling as she adjusts her glasses again.

Maybe you’ll stop by to visit Wanda, even if you’re slammed with work.

—

It’s been two days since Natasha saw you at campus, and her mind keeps going back to those minutes she spent with you.

What a weird feeling, to crave someone’s presence. She wanted the walk to last longer, or at the very least, that she had a way to find you again and keep talking.

She’s lonely, that’s it. You’ve been kind enough to pay attention and that’s why she feels this way.

The only problem is, Natasha really is up to her ears in essays and assignments, and it’s been a real struggle to focus on something other than the way your eyes light up when she says something funny.

She finally gives up, pushing away the book she’s trying to read.

And then you walk inside, frantically calling for your friend.

“Wanda? Where are you?”

Natasha jumps out of her chair, leaving her room in a hurry. It isn’t like you to just barge in, and you sound upset.

“Hey” she says, leaning against the doorframe. You jump, turning around with your hand over your chest. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you”

“Nat! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let myself in, but I…” you avoid her eyes, looking at your feet instead.

“Wanda’s out. What’s wrong?” she finally walks into the living room, concerned.

“It’s stupid. You have work to do. I should leave” you hurry to say, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“It can’t be stupid if it’s bothering you. Come on”

Natasha should let you go, promise to tell Wanda that you stopped by. But as soon as you finally look at her, she spots the unshed tears clouding your vision.

Wordlessly, she leads you to the kitchen and you sit down, playing with your hands and wiping away the tears that are starting to fall.

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong?” she says after handing you a glass of water. The way she looks at you makes you calm down, your shoulders visibly relaxing as she smiles.

“I cry when I’m angry. So these are angry tears, basically. I hate it” you tilt your head back, wiping your eyes carefully, though you’re sure your eyeliner is completely ruined now.

“Who upset you?”

“It’s stupid, really” you insist, imagining what Natasha will think once you explain. But you’re here now and it feels even more idiotic to pretend like nothing’s wrong. “I was, uh, seeing this girl last semester. Carol Danvers”

“Oh”

Natasha knows who she is. Danvers is a senior, star player of the lacrosse team. Though she's also known as another kind of player, always at parties looking for girls to hook up with.

“Yeah, it was just not official because I’m sure you know she likes to fuck anything with a pulse” you try to laugh but it comes out as a sob. Clearing your throat, you place strands of hair behind your ears, hoping you don’t look as bad as you feel. “And then this summer I was just a desperate idiot, texting her. Carol barely replied and I figured she might be busy”

“I’m guessing that wasn’t why she didn’t text back” Natasha says, leaning against the kitchen island.

“No, I just ran into her at the dining hall, and she was all over her ex, Maria Rambeau. I’m gonna kill her” your mood shifts suddenly. “I just feel like an idiot and I hate it. All she had to do was put on her big girl pants and tell me she wasn’t interested anymore. Instead I made a fool of myself”

Natasha feels cornered, your sudden fit of rage scaring her a little. She wouldn’t dream of making you upset if this is what you look like when it happens.

But it’s also kind of cute.

“See? You think it’s stupid” you sigh, noticing her smile. Natasha is quick to shake her head, cursing herself.

She can’t say she was smiling because she thinks you’re cute.

“No, it’s not stupid at all. I’m just not good at this sort of thing…”

You’re about to joke, tell her she’s done more than she should considering you just walked in her dorm while she’s slammed with work.

Except Wanda decides to finally show up. You turn around, unaware that Natasha’s eyes are glued to you.

“Hey… what… did you do something to her?” Wanda’s demeanor goes from confused to complete rage. You realise she’s asking Natasha if she’s the reason you’re crying.

“Wow, now hold on. She was helping me” you raise your hands, leaning on Natasha’s side for a second to assure her Wanda won’t bite her head off. “If you wanna take it up with someone, it’s Danvers”

“Ugh, I knew it. She’s going to pay” Wanda stomps to her room, and you sigh, turning to Natasha.

“I gotta make sure she’s not plotting Carol’s disappearance. Thank you for… listening to me”

“Anytime” she promises, nodding as you smile one last time before following your friend to her room.

Natasha can hear your voices, even if Wanda closed her door to give you some privacy. It isn’t the noise that distracts her. It’s about the fact you dated one of the most popular girls in school.

Of course, that’s someone fit for you. Natasha couldn’t compete with that.

At least now she knows the truth, and can go back to focusing on her studies. Maybe you’ll find someone else, and won’t have time to see Wanda anymore. Maybe, that’s the only way Natasha will stop thinking about you.

But the thought of someone else with you twists her stomach into a knot.

—

Morning light filters through the kitchen window, and you sing along to an Elton John song as you flip another pancake.

“Whatever gets you through the night” you hum. Turns out, what got you through your embarrassing predicament was a big party and a large amount of alcohol. But now, you really gotta focus on your work or you’ll fall behind.

Thinking about all the articles you have to read, and all the essays to draft, you miss Natasha’s footsteps as she leaves her room.

“Sorry, was the music too…?” you turn around, aware that it’s early morning on a Saturday.

Your mind stops working when you look at Natasha, wearing a white tank top and grey sweatpants. Her arms are surprisingly toned and you can’t help but stare.

Say something.

But she’s also staring at you with an indecipherable look.

“Nice shirt” she finally comments. “Looks good on you”

“It’s yours, isn’t it?” you realise a moment later. Of course. You found it in the bathroom and just assumed it was Wanda's. “I’ll go get changed, sorry”

“No” Natasha immediately blocks your path, her bravado disappearing as soon as you look up at her, expectantly. “Keep it. Looks good”

“Oh. Thanks” you say, taking a step back. “Want breakfast? Wanda already left, she had a group project to finish”

“Sure” Natasha nods, and you go back to making pancakes. There’s silence as you prepare the food, only realising Natasha’s closer when she leans forward, trapping you between her body and the kitchen island.

“Sorry, I wanted a mug” she apologizes, her hand on your hip. All you can do is nod, heat creeping up your cheeks at her proximity.

“Thank you for yesterday” you say looking over your shoulder, your voice small.

“You feeling better?”

“Less like an idiot” you say with a smile.

You honestly couldn’t care less about Carol. It was about the attention and she was a good fuck, but deep down, you knew she’d never be one to committ.

“You’re not that. Danvers was the only one at fault”

“I mean, yeah. I guess I gotta start thinking before getting in bed with a fuckgirl, huh?”

“Right” Natasha stutters, pouring some milk and looking away.

“No coffee?”

“I prefer sweet stuff” she admits, sitting down with a plate full of pancakes.

“You took the coffee I ordered the other day and didn’t say a word” you complain.

“But you went through all that trouble and it would have been rude” Natasha shrugs her shoulders, avoiding your eyes.

You eat in silence for a few minutes, stealing glances here and there. Natasha’s phone pings a couple of times, and you’re dying to know who it is, especially when she snorts at one of the messages she gets.

“Do you like games?” you say out of the blue.

“Like videogames?”

“More like board games” you say, trying to sound casual.

“Oh, I love Settlers of Catan” Natasha nods, and you want to slam your head against the table. Of course, she’s a genius and likes those games that you never understand.

“That sounds fun, yeah. I meant Uno or Jenga. Ya know, things that are easier”

She probably thinks you’re stupid.

Uno? Really?

“Right. That’s cool too. Why do you ask?” she says, smiling. The way she looks at you makes you relax, and you put your fork down. You were done eating anyway.

“We have game night every other week. Basically, when we have too much work to actually go out and party, but still wanna decompress or just hangout. Maybe you’d wanna join us sometime?”

“Sounds fun” she nods, but that’s not a yes or no. Would it be too pushy if you ask her tonight?

Then, her phone pings again and your mouth is faster than your brain.

“Gimme your phone”

“W-what?” Natasha’s hand stops midair, and you’re sure she’d be fidgeting with her glasses if she had them on.

“I mean… I could give you my phone number. And if you decide to come, just text me”

“Oh, sure” Natasha says, unlocking the device and passing it on. She smiles, taking your plate and going to wash the dishes.

“I’ll do that”

“You made breakfast. It’s the least I could do” she says, and you smile, going back to save your phone number.

“Someone’s calling you”

Someone saved as Yel.

“Sorry, I have to take this” she says, hurrying back to her room. Just like that, Natasha’s gone and you’re alone in the kitchen.

Are you seriously going to fall for Wanda’s roommate? The girl who is not interested in socializing and definitely not interested in you?

You look down at the shirt you’re wearing, remembering it’s hers. As you notice how big it is on you, it reminds you of Natasha in a tank top, and you blush.

Yes, you’re definitely falling for Natasha.

And you’re not giving the shirt back.

—

It’s been a week.

After two days of obssesively checking your phone, Wanda made you confess what had happened.

When it became clear Natasha was so not interested, you avoided the dorm at all costs. Until Wanda practically dragged you to her place next Saturday.

“Close the door” you hiss as soon as you walk into her room, hoping Natasha isn’t home.

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” Wanda says, rolling her eyes.

Instead of answering, you plop down in her bed, arm above your eyes.

“Ok, I gave her my phone number, told her to text me. While wearing her t-shirt and making her pancakes. The ball could not be more in her court”

“Does she even know there’s a ball?” Wanda laughs, which makes you look up.

“What do you mean?”

“Weren’t you crying about Carol the day before? Maybe she thinks you’re looking for a rebound” Wanda shrugs her shoulders, doing her makeup. She’s going back to too much eyeliner.

“Shit. You think so?”

It wasn’t like you said you were in love with Carol - which, you weren’t-. You just mentioned being casually seeing her and being pissed about her gaslighting.

“But there’s also the girl that was texting her” you say, thinking about the mysterious Yel.

“Well, I’ve never seen anyone visiting her. And she’s always in her room”

“Internet girlfriend?” you guess. “Long distance, maybe”

“Or caftfishing. Nat strikes me as one to be naive enough” Wanda says with a smirk.

“Don’t be mean” you nudge her with your foot and she pinches your calf. “Bitch”

“Whiny lesbian. Just ask her out properly”

“I don’t wanna seem desperate. What?” you say when Wanda coughs to hide her laughter.

“All week, you’ve been staring at your phone like a maniac. You are desperate”

Wanda keeps doing her make up, the music blasting a little louder than normal, but this time you don’t say anything about it. Maybe Natasha will ask her to turn it down and will see you and then you’ll get talking…

Ugh.

It’s like your best friend can read your mind, laughing when you place one of her pillows over your head and all but scream into it.

“Come here, I’ll do your makeup” Wanda says, and you pout.

“I already did it. Do I look that bad?”

“You need more eyeliner and your lipstick is just gone”

With another sigh, you lean against her headrest, and she straddles your lap.

“Do you remember when my mom walked in on us just like this?” she laughs and you pinch her side.

“And she gave you the talk about how it’s ok to be gay”

You both laugh at that, and a moment later Wanda’s done with the makeup.

“You look hot. So go and ask her out”

“What if…”

“Just go” Wanda pushes you out the door, her bag swaying with the movement. You’re startled by how she slaps your ass, the sound making Natasha look up from her spot in the kitchen island.

Her smile is shy, but it’s there, and she doesn’t run away the minute you’re in the same room like she used to do.

“Going to a party?”

“Yeah, we…” you turn to look at Wanda, who is pretending to fix her hair in the living room mirror. “Would you like to come with us? It could be fun”

“Thanks, but I’m going to meet some of Yelena’s friends” she rolls her eyes.

Yelena. As in the girl who texts her and makes Natasha smile and laugh.

“Oh. Well, have fun”

“You too” she nods, but all you want to do is go back to your room and hide under the covers for the rest of the night.

“Let’s go” Wanda says, pulling you by the arm without sparing a glance towards Natasha. “Come on, you tried. It’s no big deal. Let’s get drunk”

You think about all the essays you have to write, the fact you’re behind on some of your readings… and then you remember the way Natasha smiles at her phone when that Yelena girl texts her.

“Yeah, let’s get wasted”

—

It’s a rare thing, for Natasha to be going out to a place that isn’t campus or the grocery store. But her sister came to visit and she’s been nagging her about meeting her friends.

Natasha suspects one of them is more than a friend, and that is why Yelena wants her to meet them.

By the time she reaches the bar, Yelena and her group of friends are already sitting at a big table. The blonde is laughing with a guy with short hair, and Natasha takes a moment to look at him.

No, that can’t be the one Yelena’s dating.

“You made it!” Yelena shouts, all eyes turning to Natasha.

The redhead smiles, waving at her sister and walking to their table.

“Hello” she greets everyone.

“Bob, Ava, Kate, this is my sister Natasha” Yelena says, moving to the side so her sister can sit with them.

“Nice to meet you. We’ve heard so much about you” Ava says.

“All good things, I hope”

“Well, she did tell us about the time you went as Gandalf to a Halloween party” Bob says, and Natasha glares at Yelena.

“Bob, stop!” Yelena says, hiding her face in her hands. “She’s going to kill me”

“Oh, why? I thought it was a good thing?” the guy says, looking around the table.

So he’s the golden retriever of the group, friendly and clueless. Ava, who is Natasha’s age seems to be the voice of reason.

That leaves Kate. Natasha notices some of the glances she shares with Yelena, or the way they laugh at certain things that no one else understands.

“Bishop, can we do a rematch? You beat me at darts last time and it’s been bugging me” Ava says at one point.

They both leave, laughing and dragging Bob along.

“They’re nice” Natasha comments, happy that Yelena has found a good group to hang out with.

It was tough to leave for college, and even harder to learn Yelena had chosen a school that was across the country from her sister. From spending all their time together, now they only saw each other during the holidays.

“Yeah, they’re all great” Yelena says, but Natasha notices she’s only looking at Kate.

“Have you asked her out yet?”

“Hey!” her sister complains, and Natasha laughs.

“You must really like her, then. I’ve seen you go for it without hesitation before”

“Well, I just don’t want it to be weird if it doesn’t work… we’re good friends” Yelena says. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Natasha says too soon for Yelena’s liking.

“I meant, how are things with the roommate. But now you’re acting weird. Do you have a crush on her?”

“No, it’s nothing like that”

Of course, Natasha wasn’t lying. But the thing is, she’s getting used to your presence. She looks forward to you visiting Wanda, moving to do her homework in the living room instead of locking herself up in her room.

She wished she had the courage to ask you out, but Natasha’s never dated anyone. Painfully aware of how out of her league you are, she can’t help but imagine you’d refuse to go on a date with her.

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt you to make some friends, Tasha”

“Yeah, I know. I just… it’s hard for me” Natasha says, looking at her hands.

Except when she’s around you. It’s always easy to spend time with you and actually enjoy it.

“Come on, let’s team up and beat Kate and Ava” Yelena proposes, chugging the last of her beer.

Natasha follows her sister, and she doesn’t miss the way Kate’s hand lingers when she hands over the darts to Yelena.

She immediately thinks about you, the few times her fingers have touched yours for a split second.

Maybe she will text you after all. She’s pulling her phone when Yelena calls her out.

“Come on, Tasha, loser buys the next round of drinks”

So, Natasha saves her phone, hoping to text you later.

For now, though, she has to team up for a free drink.

—

The music is loud, the sorority house crowded.

But the noise and the people aren’t enough to keep you from thinking about Natasha. Meeting Yelena’s friends.

So it must be serious, huh?

“Why do you look so pissed off? Is it Danvers?” Val says, approaching you with a new drink. Carol’s here but you didn’t even notice.

You take the glass and down half of the liquid.

“Do you know any Yelena that goes to school here?”

Who is she? What makes her so damn special? Probably someone older, Natasha would never date a young, stupid, irresponsible…

As your thoughts spiral, you finish the drink.

“Yelena? No, name doesn’t ring a bell. Did she wrong you? We will restore your honor, princess”

You let out a laugh at that, and then your eyes meet Carol’s. She seems ready to walk up to you, but Val is quicker, dragging you to dance. Wanda is already there, swaying to the music with some of your friends.

There’s a bottle of tequila that gets passed around, and you take a large gulp, dancing until the heat is too much and you decide to step outside. Wanda barely listens when you tell her you’re getting some air.

Leaning on the wall, you sigh. It’s fresh out and now that you’re outside, your ears are ringing. This is stupid. You should be acting more mature, instead of like a child that throws a tantrum because she doesn’t get her way.

Natasha’s with someone else, big fucking deal. You should be moving on. There’s gotta be someone in that house that wants to sleep with you.

But the minute you try to go back inside, your stomach turns. All you can think about is Natasha’s beautiful green eyes, her shy smile.

“Fuck”

Doble fuck, when you notice Carol’s looking around. You know that look. She’s clearly alone tonight and horny.

Not today, Satan.

Before you make a stupid mistake, you decide to leave the party, texting your friends to let them know you’re going back home.

But where’s home, exactly? It takes you 15 minutes walking to realise you’re just wandering around campus, wasted and lost. You sit on the steps of the main library, and all you can think about is that time you followed Natasha like a puppy, probably looking stupid.

Damn it.

“You ok?” a voice startles you, and you look up, rubbing your eyes.

“Yeap”

The guy looks familiar, but the last thing you want is some dumb fuck trying to act like a knight in shinning armor.

“I think you’re in my American Studies class” he says.

“I don’t know. Maybe” you say, pulling out your phone, thinking it might be wise to call Darcy and ask for her help. She’s gonna be pissed but it’s getting late and you’re practically alone with this stranger.

“I’m Jake” he says with a smile, and you want to throw your phone at his stupid face. As if you even asked what his fucking name is.

“Have a goodnight, Jake from American Studies” you say, standing up to walk around him. Unfortunately, you stumble, and the guy takes advantage, grabbing you by the waist. He’s definitely closer than he needs to be.

“Looks like you could use a hand” he tries to joke, but you feel dread invade your system as his hand slides down to your lower back. Way lower.

“No, I’m fine. Let me go” you push him away, but you’re drunk and he’s stronger. While you struggle, your phone falls to the floor.

“Just let me take care of you” he whispers in your ear.

This cannot be happening. You’re about to scream for help, when his overwhelming presence disappears, and is replaced by green eyes that you’d recognise anywhere.

“Are you ok?” Natasha says. She doesn’t manhandle you like the idiot did, placing her hands delicately in your face instead.

“Yes. I’m fine. How did you…?”

You’re about to ask something, but the adreline rush and the alcohol make you dizzy, so you close your eyes to try to calm down. The guy says something to Natasha, but your heart is beating in your ears, and you can’t even hear him.

“Leave before I call campus police” Natasha says, making it very clear she’s not messing around. You take a deep breath, opening your eyes. Natasha’s gaze is fixed on you, a frown clouding her features. “Is Wanda around?”

“No, I didn’t want to stay at the party, so I left early but got lost. I, uh, can find my way home, don’t worry, I know you’re busy…”

“What did you drink?” Natasha says, her palm against your forehead. “You’re sweating”

“Tequila, a beer or two. I’m sorry, I can take care of myself, you should go…” you stumble with your words, mortified. She probably thinks you’re an idiot.

But instead, Natasha squeezes your hand, smiling gently.

“I’d feel better if you came back home with me. That way I can keep an eye on you”

“I don’t want to bother you” you say, turning away. If you keep looking at those beautiful eyes, you know you’ll agree to anything.

“Please” she says, her raspy voice a tone lower than usual. As if you’d be doing her a favor by coming over and making her take care of you. It’s very clear she won’t take no for an answer, so you nod, allowing her to lead you to the parking lot.

The ride to her place is a short one, but you’re struggling to keep your eyes open. As soon as Natasha parks, she gets out and walks to your side, opening the door for you.

“I’m ok. Thank you” you mumble, slurring your words. Between the exhaustion and the alcohol, you’re having trouble walking straight. The feeling of Natasha’s hands around your waist might be a dream, but you’re fine with it. Her touch is soft and gentle, unlike that idiot.

“I’ll get you some water” Natasha says as you walk inside, making you sit on the couch.

You play with the fabric, trying to focus on something other than the throbbing in your head. It’s really weird, because you had very little to drink, or at least that’s what you recall. Maybe you were more upset than you thought.

“Sorry about ruining your date” you say out of the blue, remembering why you were in a bad mood.

“What date?” Natasha says, frowning. She hands you a glass of water and you take it with a nod.

“Didn’t you say you were meeting your girlfriend’s friends?” you say between sips, closing your eyes.

“Yelena? She’s my sister. I thought I told you about her. The one who thought she was the lost Romanov princess” Natasha says with a smile.

You’re not smiling, though.

“Wait, so… you’re not dating anyone?”

“I’ve never dated, to be honest” the redhead shrugs her shoulders. You stand up suddenly, ignoring the way the room spins. “Wow, what’s wrong?”

“So if you’re single, why haven’t you texted me?” you pace around the room, agitated. “I was waiting… I thought I made it clear I like you”

“You… do?”

“I… think I’m going to be sick" you say, and Natasha’s by your side in an instant. “I’m such an idiot”

“You’re not, it’s ok. Want to change into some comfortable clothes?”

“Ok” you nod. You let her walk you to a room, but you’re so dizzy that you only realise it’s hers when she opens the door.

She lets you sit on the bed while she goes through her closet, handing you a t-shirt like the one you never gave back.

“I’ll be right outside while you get changed, ok?”

You nod, and she leaves, closing the door on her way out.

Natasha leans against the wall, thinking about all the things you just said. Did you mean them? Should she do something about it?

It felt weird, considering you were intoxicated, and maybe it wouldn’t be something you’d admit out loud if you weren’t drunk. Could it be because you were ashamed about liking Natasha?

All this time, she thought you were just being nice…

Could she really be that oblivious?

“Everything ok in there?” she decides to stop thinking about this, focusing on you instead.

When she doesn’t get a reply, she peaks inside. You’re in the t-shirt Natasha left for you, fast asleep in her bed.

The sight makes Natasha’s stomach turn, but not in an unpleasant way.

Even if you look fine, she decides to sleep on the floor, next to the bed, just in case you need something.

“Nat” you mumble against the pillow after a few minutes.

“I’m here” she says, reaching for your hand. You sigh, squeezing her fingers, settling once more.

You don’t let go for the rest of the night.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n

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heliosunny · 3 months ago

Note

Hello! I was wondering if you are familiar with Dr. Stone? Id like to request a fanfic of both Yandere Stanley Snyder and Xeno!

Reader was a military Doctor before the petrification, they were close friends with both Stanley and Xeno. Id say reader is a soft spoken person kind of like, she has this kind face, always has a small smile plastered.

She then secretly ask for a transfer to a different branch of military— aka Japan— due to “minor circumstances”. She noticed how slowly possessive and obsessive the two became towards her. So she asked for a transfer, without telling them, maybe telling the commander to keep her transfer a secret. She had to leave before anything got to drastic between the two.

After petrification, shes been revived by senku, to go on a voyage to america! She already knew it she’d meet them again eventually.

The rest is up to you!

Yandere!Xeno x Fem!Reader x Yandere!Stanley

"Contains different details from the manga. For more, read the manga—it's worth it!"

The room smelled of coffee and gunpowder. It was a scent you had grown used to, one that clung to your uniform and seeped into your skin. The base was quiet at this hour—most soldiers either asleep or out on assignment. But here, it was just the three of you.

Xeno sat at his desk, his fingers turning the pages of some scientific journal you had no doubt he had already read a dozen times over. His sharp eyes flickered to you briefly before returning to his reading. Stanley, meanwhile, lounged on the couch, his rifle resting against the armrest within easy reach.

And then there was you, sitting at the table with your hands wrapped around a warm mug. The conversation had been light for most of the night—memories of past missions, idle jokes—but you could feel the weight in the air.

“Are you tired?”

You caught the way his fingers paused mid-turn on the page and replied with a smile “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Nothing important.”

Neither of them seemed convinced.

“You’ve been distracted lately.” Xeno leaned forward slightly, studying you in that way that made you feel like a specimen under his microscope. “It concerns me.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re hiding something.”

“I think you’re both just overthinking it.”

You knew them too well to believe they would let this go.

You had to leave soon.

----

The wind whipped against your face as you stood on the deck of the ship, the vast ocean stretching endlessly before you.

It had been years since that night, since you left them without a word. You had convinced the commander to keep your transfer classified, ensured that no information about your whereabouts would reach them. You had done everything right.

And yet, the past was impossible to outrun.

“You okay?” A familiar voice pulled you from your thoughts. You turned to see Kohaku.

“Yeah. Just lost in thought.”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. Instead, she glanced out at the sea. “We’ll be in America soon.”

You already knew that. You had known from the moment Senku asked you to join this mission that you would see them again.

You wondered how much of the past still remained in them.

And how much they would make you pay for leaving.

The first time you heard his voice again, it was like a ghost from the past had come back to haunt you.

“Greetings. I take it this is your preferred frequency for communication?”

Even after all these years, you recognized it instantly.

Xeno.

You didn’t react outwardly, keeping your usual smile as if nothing was amiss. But inside, your heart pounded. It was too soon. You had known you would meet them eventually, but not like this. Not with him still unaware of your presence.

And then the situation escalated.

Gen was caught.

You kept up the act, playing along with the crew as they devised a plan. The moment Taiju accepted to play as the "scientist" of their group, you knew where this was heading.

You stayed close to the others as they moved, keeping your presence blended into the background. You could feel it—the moment Stanley took his position. He was out there.

And then, as he peered through the scope, lining up his shot—

He saw you.

For the first time in years, his eyes locked onto yours. His body language shifted, the steadiness of his aim wavering for just a fraction of a second. It was barely noticeable to anyone else.

As the plan unfolded, you kept your expression neutral, your small smile never faltering.

Then, Luna arrived, just as expected.

Whatever will be, will be.

You felt your heart lurch as the bullets tore through Senku, his body jerking under the force. Even though you had prepared for it, the sight still made something tighten in your chest.

Stanley never left a job unfinished. He was already on his way down before the dust even settled, moving with the cold efficiency that made him the military’s best.

Senku wasn't dead. You knew that much. His intelligence was the only thing that kept him breathing, tricking them into thinking they had succeeded. But you also knew he would need help.

You needed to get to him.

Before you could take a step, a strong hand seized your wrist and wrenched you backward, his grip like a shackle that refused to break. You stiffened, instinct screaming at you to resist—but you didn’t. You knew better. So, with a quiet breath, you let him.

It wasn’t compliance. It was strategy.

You could feel the way his grip tightened ever so slightly, like he thought you might disappear again if he let go.

You exhaled slowly, keeping your voice steady as you spoke for the first time.

“Stan.”

He pressed on, yet his fingers tightened—like a man gripping onto a ghost he feared might slip away.

The walk to Xeno’s base was silent, but the weight in the air was suffocating. The moment the doors opened, you were met with the sight of Xeno speaking to Gen.

Shock flickered across Gen's face. Not because he recognized you, but because he understood what your presence here meant. Something had gone horribly wrong for Senku’s team.

Xeno’s reaction was much more subtle, but you didn’t miss it. His eyes widened just a fraction before settling into something unreadable, his lips parting ever so slightly as if he meant to say something but hadn’t yet found the words.

The silence stretched for only a moment before Stanley shoved you further inside, forcing Gen to stumble backward slightly.

“Take him away”

Gen blinked, his eyes darting between you, Stanley, and Xeno, as if piecing together a puzzle far more complex than he’d anticipated. He didn’t resist as he was dragged away, but his parting glance was full of unspoken questions.

And then, it was just the three of you.

The door shut behind Gen, the echo ringing in your ears. Xeno exhaled, placing his gloved hands on the desk in front of him.

“I see,” he murmured. “So it truly is you.”

“It’s been a long time, Xeno.”

Xeno leaned back in his chair, “You left,” he finally said. “No warning. No goodbye.”

Stanley crossed his arms beside you, “Did you really think we wouldn’t find out eventually?”

“It was never about hiding forever.”

“Then what was it about?”

You met his gaze head-on. “I left because you two were becoming dangerous.”

“You were my closest friends,” you continued, “But you both started treating me like something to be possessed. It was only a matter of time before it got worse. So I left before it did.”

Stanley scoffed, “And now you’re with them?”

You nodded. “I made my choice.”

Xeno hummed, shaking his head. “Your choices have always been questionable. But that’s alright.”

You stiffened, just slightly, as Xeno stood up from his seat, stepping toward you with the same calculating grace he always had. Stanley didn’t move, but you could feel the way his gaze bore into you.

“You seem to have forgotten” Xeno murmured, stopping just before you, “It’s our job to educate those who have lost their way.”

“I’m afraid we’ll have to recondition that misguided loyalty of yours.”

Stanley exhaled through his nose, finally speaking.

“You’re not going anywhere this time.”

Life under their watch felt suffocating.

As expected, you were assigned to treat the injured. That part wasn’t unusual; they always respected your medical skills, and Xeno, at least, had the sense to recognize that you were more valuable this way than locked in a cell.

But outside of that?

You were constantly watched.

Everywhere you went, a guard followed. Even within the medical tent, you could feel eyes on you at all times—whether it was one of Stanley’s men stationed near the entrance or Stanley himself, sitting in the corner, pretending to clean his gun while his gaze barely left you.

Before, Xeno and Stanley had been focused on conquering Senku’s group, but now? Now it felt like their primary mission was keeping you from slipping away.

You had tried to sneak out one night, hoping to reach Gen—maybe pass along a message, maybe get some information—but the second you stepped outside, a guard was already there. Stanley’s men were efficient. They didn’t scold or punish you. They simply looked at you, silent and expectant, like they had been waiting for you to return on your own.

You considered some possibilities. Maybe slipping away during battle. The risk is that you'd have to time it perfectly or else they'd catch you trying to run.

Second plan is to feign sickness. If you pretended to be sick or weak, you could manipulate Xeno into keeping you inside with fewer guards. If you were alone, you might find a way out. But he himself is a scientist. He’d check your vitals, run tests. If he caught on, he’d be even more controlling.

You had options. But each one came with a price.

And with Stanley and Xeno watching your every move, failure wasn’t something you could afford.

----

Seated across from Xeno in his study, you kept your usual smile as he questioned you about Senku and his people. You expected this. It was only natural for him to want intelligence on his opponent.

So, you answered. But you only gave him general truths—nothing that could be used against them. Senku was resourceful. Kohaku was strong. Chrome was a fast learner. All things he would eventually figure out on his own, but you knew he wasn’t satisfied.

Stanley, standing off to the side, didn’t bother hiding his displeasure.

But he didn’t interfere.

Because, no matter how much Stanley wanted results, he had his own rules.

He never laid a hand on you.

Not over something like this.

Because you weren’t his enemy.

“Tell me,” he mused, tilting his head slightly. “How have you been?”

The change in topic caught you off guard.

“You left us. And yet, here you are again.” His fingers tapped against the table. “Surely, you must have something to say about all that time apart.”

Deep down, a part of you did miss them.

You missed the conversations with Xeno, the way his mind worked, the long nights spent debating theories over coffee. You missed the quiet moments with Stanley, those rare times when he let his guard down, when it was just the three of you against the world.

The battlefield. The victories. The losses. The camaraderie.

You had been through so much together.

And no matter how much you wanted to deny it, there had been happiness in that time too.

“I’ve been alright,” you finally said. “Things… changed after I left. But I adapted.”

Xeno’s lips curled in amusement. “Adapted? That’s all?”

“That’s what humans do, isn’t it?”

“You didn’t have to.”

You turned your gaze toward him, finding him watching you intently. Like he was watching a traitor.

“I did.”

“And yet, you still ended up back in our hands.”

You weren’t planning to stay.

You couldn't stop thinking about Senku. That young man brought you a sense of comfort, nothing more.

Even as you went about your duties, tending to the wounded, patching up soldiers who had no idea of the weight pressing on your shoulders—you thought of him.

Senku was brilliant. He always had a plan, always worked five steps ahead.

You knew, deep down, that he must have something in place. Some way to turn the situation in his favor.

But doubt still lingered.

Had he survived? Did he have a counter to Stanley’s bullet? Or had fate finally caught up to him?

Then came the morning.

The atmosphere was different.

You noticed it immediately—the way the soldiers moved with more urgency, the way murmurs rippled through the camp.

You were barely given time to process before you overheard the words that sent your heart plummeting:

“Today's the day we get rid of Senku Ishigami.”

You had to do something.

The tunnel plan worked faster than you expected.

One moment, you were scrambling for a way to slow Stanley’s men down, and the next—Chrome and the others had broken through, executing the plan with perfect timing. The tables turned in an instant.

And now, Xeno was their hostage.

That didn’t shake him, of course. But as you walked back with Senku’s group, checking on their injuries and making sure no one was in immediate danger, you noticed something—

Xeno had been watching you.

He saw the way you moved among Senku’s team, the way you smiled more freely, the way your shoulders weren’t weighed down as they had been in his camp.

You were happier.

Even as you checked his vitals, treating him no differently from the others, he said nothing about it. Not yet.

“You seem… comfortable” Xeno mused, watching you from where he was seated. “More than I recall you ever being.”

“I suppose I am.”

“And here I thought our time together had its charms.”

“It did,” you admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I want to go back.”

He was never one to show his emotions outright. But this was different.

It wasn’t frustration over being captured.

It was personal.

And before you could even process why, he spoke again, quieter this time.

“You favor him now.”

“What?”

“Senku.” Xeno’s gaze was sharp, “You favor him.”

You exhaled softly, shaking your head. “It’s not about favor, Xeno. I made my choice.”

“I wonder.” He leaned forward slightly, a knowing glint in his eye. “Does he even realize?”

“What are we talking about?”

You turned to see Senku approaching. He hadn’t been listening, too focused on whatever plan was forming in his mind, his attention entirely devoted to the future.

“Nothing of importance,” he mused, reclining back slightly. “At least, not to you.”

Senku just gave him a look, clearly unimpressed, before turning to you. “We’re moving soon. Think you can help me with some calculations?”

You nodded without hesitation, following him without a second thought.

And behind you, Xeno sat in silence, watching your retreating figure.

His jealousy simmered beneath the surface, unspoken but undeniable.

Because unlike him—

Senku had never needed to try to earn your attention.

----

Stanley finally caught up.

You had known, deep down, that this moment was inevitable. No matter how far Senku’s team got, no matter how many steps ahead they planned, Stanley Snyder was relentless. He was a man who finished his missions, no matter the cost.

And now, he had won.

His men closed in swiftly, surrounding you and the others with a precision that left no room for struggle. Xeno, of course, was the first to be retrieved. It was a swift, effortless transition—one moment he was a captive, and the next, he was back where he belonged, standing by Stanley’s side with that unreadable smirk, as if he had never been caught at all.

But when Stanley’s eyes landed on you, there was something different.

He didn’t ask you to come back.

He expected it.

And in that moment, you knew there was no escaping this—not without bloodshed.

So, you made your choice.

You surrendered.

“If I go back with you,” you said, “stop hurting them. Stop targeting innocent people.”

You couldn’t tell if he was satisfied or frustrated that you were giving in so easily.

“A noble request.”

“You’ll do it,” you said firmly. “Both of you.”

Stanley finally nodded.

“We’ve got what we came for,” he said simply. “No need to waste bullets.”

Relief flooded you, but it was brief.

Because even as Stanley’s men began to pull back, even as you took a step toward them, leaving Senku’s team behind, you knew this wasn’t over.

There was still one thing left.

You turned back to Senku’s group, “Before I go,” you said, “let me treat the injured one last time.”

Stanley didn’t stop you. Neither did Xeno.

Because in the end, for all their control over your life—this was the one thing they never denied you.

So, you moved through the group, checking wounds, patching up what you could, leaving them with what little you had left to give.

And then—

You walked away.

And you didn’t look back.

You didn’t acknowledge Xeno. You didn’t acknowledge Stanley.

They had won. You were here. But that didn’t mean you had to give them the satisfaction of cooperation.

And they knew it.

Which was why they lied to you.

It wasn’t until later that you realized Senku had been taken, smuggled into their hands like some rare commodity.

You stormed to find him, half-expecting to see him restrained or beaten—but instead, you found him seated casually, looking at you like nothing was wrong.

"Ah, figured you'd find out sooner or later." Senku’s voice was as light as ever, as if this was all part of some grand experiment he was running.

“They lied to me.”

“Well, yeah,” he said bluntly. “But hey, don’t take it too hard. Life as a hostage? Not the worst thing in the world. Gives me a good chance to talk to Xeno again.”

“Senku...”

“Relax,” he grinned. “I was planning to get captured anyway.”

Of course he was.

This was Senku.

Still, it didn’t make the bitter taste in your mouth go away.

Soon enough, Stanley’s men came to take him.

You didn’t get a chance to say much more before he was gone, dragged off to wherever they intended to keep him.

Which left you.

And Stanley.

“Come with me.”

You hesitated, but followed. Because even after all this time, even after everything, some part of you still wanted to hear what he had to say.

It was a mess, how your conversation is heading.

"You think you get to be mad? You left. You vanished without a damn word. And now you want to stand there and act like you're the victim?"

"I did what I had to do, Stan."

"And what exactly did that accomplish? Huh? Because from where I’m standing, all it did was make everything worse."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "You started dragging people into this! You shot people, Stanley! Do you even hear yourself?"

"You think this started because of me?" His voice rose. "No. It started the second you walked away."

There it was. The weight of his suffering, compressed into sharp words.

"Stanley…"

But it wasn’t enough.

He saw the way your expression softened, and for some reason, that seemed to push him over the edge.

Because suddenly, he was too close.

Before you could react, his hands grabbed your wrist, pulling you in—

Smack

The slap came before you even thought about it.

Stanley didn’t so much as waver. Your hand throbbed, your breath hitched, but all it did was cast a deeper shadow in his gaze.

"You—"

His fingers curled under your chin, guiding your face to meet his— And then he kissed you, leaving no room for escape.

It was neither tender nor forgiving.

It was fierce, unrelenting—more a sentence than a kiss.

You struggled, but Stanley was stronger. And just as quickly, he bit down. You gasped, the sting of pain snapping you back, but he didn’t pull away.

"That’s for running away."

Then, slowly—he released you.

You stumbled back, your breath uneven, your heart slamming against your ribs.

----

Xeno called for you.

You weren’t sure why, but you went anyway. Maybe it was curiosity, maybe it was exhaustion from your fight with Stanley—either way, your feet carried you toward him before you even processed it.

And when you arrived, you found them. Xeno and Senku.

They were testing something. Their voices wove together in rapid exchanges, debating theories, tweaking results.

For a moment, you forgot the tension.

You had seen this before—Xeno, completely immersed in his work, in the beauty of creation. There was a time when his passion had been purer, when he had built things not for war, but for the sake of discovery itself.

And for the first time in years, you saw glimpses of that man again.

Then his gaze lifted—and met yours.

It was only for a second, but that second was enough.

Because his eyes softened.

Because Senku—smart as always, perceptive as ever— stood up, stretched lazily, and excused himself.

The silence settled between you like an old companion.

“You always had a habit of watching in silence.”

“I assume Stanley has already had his… discussion with you.”

You touched your lower lip out of instinct. Still, you didn’t reply.

“I must say, I didn’t expect to feel jealous of Senku. You look at him differently, you know. There’s a fondness there—one you used to reserve for me.”

“That’s not—”

“Not true?” He hummed. “Perhaps. Or perhaps, without realizing it, you’ve found yourself drawn to something you once admired in me. A scientist who dreams.”

You frowned, looking away. “I admired the man you used to be.”

“Then allow me to ask—if I were to return to that man… would you return to me?”

You walked away, he was always careful choosing his own words. You need to get some air, away from the mess you've got yourself in.

----

The moment you heard the news, everything else faded.

Stanley had been shot.

It was a life-or-death situation—one that immediately demanded your attention. And not just yours. Xeno and Senku, despite their clashing ideals, were both drawn into it.

You barely processed the rush of activity, the hurried movements of people scrambling to stabilize him.

All you knew—all that mattered—was that he had survived. Barely.

By some stroke of sheer luck, the bullet had missed anything vital. But the damage was still severe. His body had taken too much, and now, he lay there—unconscious.

And you refused to leave his side.

Days passed.

You tended to his wounds, carefully monitoring every breath, every shift in his condition.

When his fever spiked, you were there to cool him down. When his breathing faltered, you were there to steady him.

It was exhausting. But you never wavered.

Because no matter what had happened between you, no matter the choices he made, the sins he bore—

Stanley Snyder was still your Stanley.

And you couldn’t bear to lose him.

The moment Stanley’s eyes cracked open, you felt it.

A sharp intake of breath—his first real one in days. His fingers twitched slightly, then tightened into a weak fist.

Your heart nearly stopped.

“…Stan?” Your voice was hoarse from exhaustion, but the relief in it was undeniable.

His gaze, unfocused at first, slowly sharpened. He blinked sluggishly, taking in his surroundings—then, finally, you.

“…You look like shit”

You let out a breathless laugh, something between amusement and sheer relief. “And you nearly died.”

Stanley only grunted, shifting slightly before wincing at the pain. His body was still weak, but the fact that he was alive, awake— that was enough for now.

Your exhaustion crashed down all at once. The worry, the sleepless nights, the weight of it all—it finally caught up to you.

You barely managed to mumble, “Welcome back,” before your body gave out.

You slumped forward, too drained to keep yourself upright.

Before you could hit the edge of the bed, a hand caught you.

Not Stanley’s.

Xeno.

“You two are absolute idiots who should never be left unsupervised.”

Stanley let out a weak chuckle. “Takes one to know one.”

Xeno pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m surrounded by fools.”

But he still made sure you were comfortable, still adjusted your position so you wouldn’t wake up with a sore neck.

And despite the bickering, despite everything—

There was relief in his gaze, too.

----

You woke up to a boom.

Your body jolted upright before your brain even caught up. For a split second, panic surged through you��but when no immediate threat followed, you exhaled slowly.

A failed experiment, most likely.

Shaking off the haze of sleep, you made your way to the kitchen area. Your stomach growled—right, you hadn’t eaten properly in days. Tending to Stanley had taken up all your energy, and now that he was stable, your body was demanding food.

You weren’t exactly a chef, but your cooking was… decent enough.

So, you got to work.

The scent of food gradually filled the air.

And like moths to a flame, they came.

First, a few curious glances. Then, casual comments. And before you knew it, half the damn base was hovering nearby, eyes practically shining with anticipation.

“Whoa! This smells amazing!”

“Wait, you can cook? Why haven’t you done this before?!”

You chuckled softly as the compliments rolled in, handing out portions. It had been so long since you sat down like this—surrounded by people, eating together. It was almost enough to make you forget everything else.

Because while you were busy laughing and chatting—

Stanley and Xeno were busy watching.

They sat on either side of you, their presence suffocating yet unnoticed by everyone else.

And every time someone praised your cooking—every time someone so much as smiled at you—

A deathly glare followed.

----

The peaceful moments didn't last for long.

"You’re with me today."

Stanley always volunteered you for tasks that required your presence.

The injured near his post? You had to treat them. Checking the perimeter? You were expected to accompany him. A supply run? Not without him.

"I trust her judgment more than anyone else’s," Stanley had said casually one day. "If someone’s patching up my men, it’ll be her."

You didn’t get a say.

And Xeno?

He ensured that all medical responsibilities fell under him and you.

"Surely, you wouldn’t want an incompetent pair of hands dealing with something so fragile, right?" Xeno murmured, blocking your path with a smile. "Stay here—your presence is necessary."

You soon realized that if someone needed medical treatment, they were denied access unless you were personally dealing with it.

Then came another time when they kept reminding you of the past.

"You used to say we made a good team." Stanley’s voice was casual. "You still believe that, don’t you?"

"That was a long time ago."

"Doesn’t change anything."

"Your past decisions led you here," he mused, "I find it fascinating how fate corrects itself, don’t you?"

"Fate didn’t bring me here"

Xeno simply smiled.

"Then tell me, why do you look at us the way you did back then?"

You had no answer.

Because no matter what you said—they twisted it.

They turned your past into proof that you belonged to them.

And the worst part?

You started doubting yourself.

Aside from using your words against you, they were sure to keep their presence noticeable to you.

Stanley stood too close.

If you tried to move, he was already in your way.

One evening, after being done with work, you tried to leave the room.

Stanley was leaning against the doorway.

"Where are you headed?"

"Somewhere else" you said flatly.

You moved left—he shifted left. You moved right—he blocked your path again.

"You’re not going anywhere. Not without me."

Then came the breaking point.

You had finally snapped.

"I’m not a prisoner, Stanley!" You shoved him away, furious.

You had tried to run.

And when you returned?

Your door was locked.

"You need rest" Xeno had said, unbothered.

One day, a person in the camp needed urgent medical attention.

You rushed to grab the necessary equipment—only to find the cabinets locked.

You turned to Xeno.

"You should have come to me first"

"This isn’t a game, Xeno—someone could die!"

He simply smiled.

"Then let’s not waste any time." His fingers tapped the counter, "Ask me properly."

You felt sick.

They had made sure that no matter what happened—

You had to rely on them.

-----

The night carried an unsettling weight, pressing against your skin like an unspoken omen. Stanley’s gaze had always been sharp, always observant—but tonight, it clung to you with a purpose, a silent expectancy that made the air feel tighter.

You forced yourself to stay calm, playing along with the meal as if nothing was out of place. You ate in silence, seated between Xeno and Stanley, their presence a constant, suffocating weight on either side of you. The moment you reached for your cup, Stanley's hand overlapped yours.

His fingers, rough from years of handling firearms, lightly curled over yours.

You didn’t look at him, keeping your face blank as you slowly pulled your hand away. He let you—but only because he wanted to.

Xeno, on the other hand, was watching your every move.

BOOM

A sudden explosion from outside shook the entire building. The scent of smoke and burning wood filled the air almost instantly. The camp erupted into chaos.

“They’re here.” Xeno’s voice was eerily calm despite the situation. He knew exactly what was happening.

You bolted to your feet. Soldiers rushed past the windows, panicked voices calling out orders as another loud blast sent debris flying.

This was it.

Your heart pounded as you caught a glimpse of Gen and Chrome through the smoke—Senku in the middle of them, alive. He was grinning, even after everything. You almost laughed—of course he was.

Gen’s eyes met yours, and for a brief second, relief washed over you. But before you could take a step forward—

Again, Stanley's hand clamped around your wrist.

You barely had time to react before he yanked you back, spinning you around to face him.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“They’re getting away. I have to—”

“You have to stay.”

His grip tightened just enough to bruise.

Xeno was watching, standing just a few steps away. He didn’t interfere—he didn’t need to.

You were never meant to leave.

Outside, you heard shouts of victory. Chrome and Gen had escaped with Senku.

They were gone. They’d done it. But… you were still here.

Stanley let out a slow exhale, his grip still locked around you, before his other hand rose to cup your cheek..

“You’re thinking too much,” he muttered, his thumb ghosting over your jaw. “It’s over now.”

You jerked your head away, trying to shove him off, but he didn’t budge. Instead, he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear.

“You don’t belong with them.”

And then—Xeno stepped forward.

He sighed, shaking his head. “Honestly, you two are troublesome.”

“This was never your fight, Xeno.”

“No, perhaps not. But you are.”

He reached forward, brushing a lock of hair from your face.

You slapped his hand away. “I’ll never belong to you.”

“Tell me…Y/N,” He tilted his head, “Where else do you belong?”

Senku was free.

But you?

You were still theirs.

#yandere x reader #yandere #dr stone #yandere dr stone #xeno x reader #stanley snyder #stanley snyder x reader #xeno houston wingfield

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v6quewrlds · 17 days ago

Note

I know we always have a giggle at Joe just being like 🙂 around Wifey at all times (can’t blame him tbh). But has there ever been a time where she’s upset him sort of like we saw in Saigon?

author's note⠀⁎⠀praying this does what i want it to do, and doesn't come off horribly. so please lmk if i missed the mark <3

read more⠀⁎⠀joe burrow masterlist / series masterlist.

Two missed calls and three unanswered texts stared back at her when she finally unlocked her phone, her heels clacking against the pavement as she made the short walk from the front steps of the restaurant to the driver's side of her Mazda. It was 8:37PM, later than she had planned, but the residents she was mentoring had so many questions about their upcoming board exams, she hadn't been able to tear herself away.

The dinner was impromptu, a way to ease their nerves and celebrate their collective progress with boards just a week away. Her little group of residents was a mix of eager and overwhelmed, but they had come so far in the year or two she had known them. She felt a sense of pride as she watched them devour her recollection of her own experience alongside their meals—her treat, of course. The molten chocolate cake she had ordered to take home for Joe was still warm, the smell wafting through the car as she started the engine and pulled out into the night.

"Hey, Siri," she paused, waiting for the sound of the beep before speaking into the phone. "Text Joey, 'Be home in 25'," her eyes glancing in her side mirror as she merged onto the highway. As she drove, the lights of the city passed by in a blur, reflecting off the rain-slicked streets. The blueish glow of the dashboard lights bathed her in a soft, comforting light, the pitter-patter of the rain on the windshield accompanying the melody of a Cleo Sol album playing softly in the background.

She didn't think twice about Joe's silence during the ride home. He had gone to practice earlier that day, then attended a few meetings, so she assumed he was either tired or busy watching film. But as she parked and climbed out of the car, she noticed the living room light was on, which was unusual for him at this hour. Normally, Joe was a stickler for turning off the lights in rooms that weren't being used. If he was watching film in his office, the lights in the living room, in the kitchen, would be out, not casting their glow into the night.

She felt a twinge of concern, the heat of the still-warm cake forgotten in her hand as she juggled her workbag, the heels she had changed out of, and the dessert to unlock the door. "Honey?" she called out, her voice echoing through the hallway. No response. She walked towards the living room, setting her heels and bag down on the floor, the cake on the dining room table, and found Joe sitting on the couch.

The hood of his white sweatshirt was pulled over his head, and a blanket was wrapped tightly around him. He was staring at the TV, a rerun of Seinfeld playing lowly on the screen. His eyes were red-rimmed, and when she walked in, he looked up with a mix of emotions that was palpable even from across the room. She took a deep breath, setting her workbag and dessert down gently, her heart racing a little faster than usual. Upon seeing his expression: the tight jaw, the pursed lips, she knew he wasn't happy. And she knew exactly what he wasn't happy about.

"Hey," she began tentatively, her voice soft and soothing, like a melody trying to calm a storm. "You okay?" Her fingers found the fabric of his hoodie, pulling it back to run her fingers through the golden brown strands of his hair.

"Yeah," he breathed out, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. "How was work?" His voice was strained, the tension in his body telling a different story.

She exhaled, taking a seat beside him. "Fine, long day," she replied, humming softly when he pulled her into his side, tucking her feet underneath herself. "I went out with the residents for dinner afterward. I must not have put it on the calendar."

"The Calendar" was a shared Apple Calendar filled with color-coded blocks of their daily routines, a system that had naturally evolved over the course of their relationship. It was their way of balancing their conflicting approaches to life. She thrived on spontaneity, while Joe craved structure. The calendar served as a compromise, a way to keep Joe informed of her "side quests," as he affectionately termed her spur-of-the-moment post-work detours and social gatherings.

It wasn't unusual for her to set up a dinner date with friends in the middle of the workday, impromptu as she liked to call it, and he had no issue with it. He understood how difficult it was for her to balance her work as a doctor and the demands of dating him with her social life. But all Joe requested was a heads up: a text, a call, even simply a new addition to the calendar that would show up in his notifications. Something. Anything. Just so he wasn't left in the dark, left to spiral.

But tonight, she had forgotten. And Joe had forgotten that he could just check her location, the modern-day equivalent of a Bat Signal, and see the pulsing green circle around her contact photo signifying she was safe somewhere. Instead, he had let his fears get the better of him, his mind going to the worst case, all because she didn't check in. He knew he was overreacting, that she was probably fine, but the worries didn't care for logic.

"I'm sorry," she said, her hand resting on Joe's thigh. "I should have told you. It slipped my mind." She could feel the tension in his muscles, the tightness of his jaw as he held her closer. She knew he was trying to keep his emotions in check, but the tremor in his voice gave him away.

"It's not that," Joe murmured, his eyes trained on the TV in front of him. "It's just… I don't know." He took a deep, shaky breath, his chest rising and falling beneath the sweatshirt. "I ask for one thing, you know. Just one thing. And sometimes…"

Her hand stilled on his leg, her eyes searching his profile for any clue to the tempest of emotions he was trying to hide. She knew Joe didn't like to show vulnerability, but she had seen it before. He wasn't afraid of showing her that side of him, but it wasn't always pleasant to experience.

He sighed, shifting to bury his nose in her hair. "I just…" his voice faltered, "I'm overreacting. Fuck." He hissed, standing up abruptly and walking over to the window. The rain had picked up outside, the droplets racing down the glass, blurring the streetlights into streaks of amber.

"You're not overreacting. But, I'm okay, nothing happened. Just take a moment to breathe," she said, remaining seated, allowing him some space. She knew Joe's fears weren't unjustified; the world was unpredictable, and she didn't blame him for worrying. She waited, watching his broad back and the way he methodically cracked each of his knuckles. The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words and the occasional patter of rain.

Finally, Joe turned around, his eyes searching hers. "It's my one thing, babe. We've talked about this so many times. Just a heads up. You don't have to tell me where, don't even have to tell me how long, just that if you're gonna be out late, you're okay." His voice was soft but firm, a plea wrapped in frustration. "I don't even give a fuck if you don't wanna tell me where you are. But if I know you get off work at 6:30, and it's 9 PM, and you haven't said shit, my mind goes to a bad place. I can't help it."

She nodded, her eyes apologetic as she watched him turn and walk back to where she sat on the couch. "You're right," she conceded. "And I'm sorry, babe. It's just that sometimes, I get caught up and I forget. It doesn't mean I don't value our agreement." She paused, reaching for his hand, her thumb tracing circles on his palm. "But I want you to remember that I come home to you. I'm not going anywhere without saying goodbye."

Joe sat down, his hand enveloping hers, the warmth of their combined touch silently comforting him. "I know you do," he said slowly. "But if something happened and I couldn't fix it… I don't know what I'd do." She started to respond, but he continued, "And I know I can't control everything, I know that. But this one thing, it's all I ask."

She squeezed his hand tighter. "You can't control everything, Joe," she acknowledged his words gently. "But I can control checking in with you." She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with the pull of air. "I'm sorry I didn't do that tonight. I'll do better."

Joe nodded, his eyes closing briefly as he leaned into her touch. "I know you will, baby," he murmured. "It's just… I love you. I probably fucked up your night."

She leaned over and kissed him softly. "I promise you haven't," she said, her voice soothing. "We're okay." She could feel the tension begin to drain from him, his grip on her hand loosening slightly. "I got you dessert," she said finally, trying to steer the conversation to a lighter topic.

Joe's eyes lit up briefly at the mention of food. "What'd you get?"

She stood up, smiling gently. "Molten chocolate cake," she said, walking over to the dining table. "It's still warm." She returned with the take-out container and a plastic fork, setting it down on the coffee table. Joe's eyes followed her, his expression softening.

"Hey, come here," he said, patting the couch cushion next to him. She sat back down, confusion crossing her face as his hands found her hips, guiding her to sit on his lap. "I love you so much," he murmured, kissing her cheek, his arms wrapping around her waist. "And I'm glad you're okay."

Her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers playing with the fabric of his sweatshirt. "I love you, too," she responded, her eyes meeting his. "And I'll do better with the updates. I promise."

Joe nodded, his breathing evened out. "Thank you," he replied, watching as she opened the container to reveal the decadent dessert.

#&. joe x doctor!reader: blurbs.#&. joey b.#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow angst #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow x black reader #joe burrow x black!reader #joey b

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cherrixpie · 5 months ago

Text

NEMESIS

part five of six (surprise :3)

↬ you were supposed to steer clear of mattheo riddle. Shame that he was just so irrestible.

↬ sfw; wc: 10.0k (i saw this coming); cw: violence, blood, broken bones, swear words; tags: gryffindor!reader, muggleborn!reader, enemies to lovers

( masterlist )

Dorothy Dankworth had been a chatterbox even when she was alive. Since her portrait had adopted her most prominent trait, she was the main source of gossip and information for the portraits all over the castle. The moment she saw the Chosen One’s close, muggleborn friend and the Dark Lord’s son tucked away in her forgotten chamber, giggling like co-conspirators and the indecent kiss on the cheek they would have been publicly shunned for in Dorothy’s lifetime, she knew she'd stumbled upon something scandalous. As soon as the Riddle boy had closed the door behind him with a last look through the room, she sprung up from her seat and left her frame, her painted skirts swishing in her wake.

The next two dozen hours, she spent flitting through portrait after portrait, relaying the story to anyone willing to listen. From the stern witches of the Transfiguration corridor to the rowdy group of drunken monks down near the kitchens, Dorothy's story evolved with each telling, peppered with more detail and insinuation until it was less about a tutoring lessons and more about a scandalous romance. By the next evening, gossip had spread around the portraits until even up at the Gryffindor tower, a certain portrait caught wind of the story. And she'd never been one to keep news to herself either.

Blissfully unaware of the storm brewing, you left your shift at the Hospital Wing that evening, joining the crowds of students flooding towards the Great Hall for dinner. Your hands were still stinging from the way you'd poked yourself with the needle due to your lack of concentration. The previous night kept replaying in your mind, especially Mattheo’s kiss on your cheek, the sensation of his surprisingly soft lips. In your memory, it was a confused whirlwind of laughter, his infuriatingly beautiful eyes and the Smiths playing in the background.

As any time you'd find yourself in a crowd these days, you subtly turned your head, on the lookout for a certain Slytherin with brown curls. You did manage to spot him, strolling along with his friends and a toothpick dangling from his lips in place of the usual cigarette. He was staring straight ahead as Malfoy talked animatedly beside him. When you passed them, you distinctly made out the words “Potter with his perfect flying and his perfect scar-”.

Spontaneously, you flashed him a little smile over your shoulder, and for the split of a second, your eyes met and his crinkled with amusement. But before someone could detect your silent exchange, you hastened your step and left them behind, Malfoy's voice still drawling, but being drowned out more and more as you approached the hall alongside a wave of Ravenclaws.

When you stepped into the Entrance Hall, where students were steadily accumulating, you glanced around for your friends and caught sight of Harry, Ron and Hermoine walking down the stone stairs to Gryffindor tower, engaged in lively conversation. Hermoine seemed to be talking to Ron insistently as she gesticulated wildly, Harry’s gaze flickered from one to the other and Ron looked like he was plotting a murder, fists clenched and staring ahead darkly. His cheeks were almost as red as his hair, seemingly burning with indignation. Thinking it was just another petty argument between him and Hermoine, you waved at them and Ron spotted you first. But instead of lighting up or waving back, his gaze turned only more sinister. He nudged the others and then made a beeline towards you, Harry and Hermoine struggling to keep up and exchanging worried looks.

Clutching your book bag, you froze in place and watched them approach with widened eyes, students moving around you but you didn't really see them. What on earth could this be about? It couldn't be…? Ron pushed through a gaggle of third year Hufflepuffs before coming to a halt before you, breathing unevenly and outright furious. “Tell me it's a lie. Please, tell me it's not true,” he growled with balled fists and you stared up at him with wide eyes, completely perplexed, maybe because you didn't want to think, didn't want to imagine that they'd found out about you and their worst enemy sneaking off together in secret.

“Ron what are you even talking about?” You asked, nervously, and took a step back. Out of your peripheral vision, you could make out several heads near you turning towards the scene Ron was causing with his shouting. Ron's frown only deepened and he didn't reciprocate your anxious little smile. “We heard something from the fat lady- something I really, really don't want to believe about you.”

“What are you even saying?” You exclaimed, an edge of desperation in your tone, and you glanced around nervously. To your horror, you caught a glimpse of green near the doors, meaning that the first of the procession from the dungeons must've reached the entrance hall. You could only pray Mattheo was still trailing behind his friends.

“Don't act stupid!” Ron exclaimed angrily, throwing his hands into the air. You threw a helpless look at the other two, somehow still hoping this was some sort of prank. But Hermoine looked at you very seriously and Harry’s eyes had narrowed, and neither of them held Ron back when he roared: “Please tell me you're not fucking Mattheo Riddle!”

“What?!” you spluttered in indignation and glanced around nervously to see how many people had heard him. “What the hell, Ron, I’d never-” You fell silent. You would, probably. But, you reminded yourself stubbornly, you hadn't. “Where did you hear that? Who said I-?”

“The portrait of Dorothy Dankworth saw you together,” Ron pressed, carefully watching your reaction. “The fat lady told us some interesting things about your little meetup with Riddle.” He spat out the name as if it was poisonous and you felt a pinch of anger in your chest.

“You're going to trust the fat lady with information?” you bit back and folded your arms over your chest defiantly, but Ron was undeterred. “Well, then, deny it!”

That shut you up effectively. If you lied to them now and they'd find out anyway, you would lose their trust indefinitely. And you also didn't want to lie to your friends, but their reaction was just like you'd imagined. You let out a deep breath and squared your shoulders as if that would protect you against their scrutiny. It wasn't like you didn't understand why they were angry. They didn't know him like you did. They didn't know he could be funny, kind, caring, passionate and, most of all, nothing like his father.

“I did meet him,” you said, fighting to keep your voice composed as Ron did an indignant intake of air and Hermoine's frown deepened. “But it wasn't like that. I'm-,” you hesitated for a split second, but Harry's eyes narrowed further nonetheless, “I'm tutoring him in muggle studies.”

“You're tutoring him?” Ron roared as if you'd just confessed to killing his grandma, “Are you stupid?!” You recoiled slightly at his harsh tone and shame rose in you when you realized half the hall had stopped talking and was looking over at Ron, who was fuming with outrage. “Have you lost your bloody mind? Tutoring Riddle? You're cozying up to a death eater in the making!” As you opened your mouth to reply, Ron cut you off. “How long has this been going on? Huh? Weeks? Months?”

“He asked me after the quidditch game,” you replied with an honesty your friends couldn't appreciate. “You mean right after he tried to kill Harry with that bludger?” asked Hermoine, appalled, and you frowned defensively. “He didn't try to kill him, don't be ridiculous.”

“Don't you even think of defending him!” Ron called, oblivious to the turning heads. “Don't you get it? He knows that you're close to Harry, he's just planning to get closer to him and you're letting him! Just because he's pretty!” Hermoine tugged at his sleeve to get him to consider the crowd, but Ron's remedy to talking himself into a rage. You were frozen in place, unable to move or defend yourself. It was horrible, what he threw at you, so horrible you couldn't even find the words to reply. Though you knew they'd not take kindly and you understood them well, you'd never have thought you'd one day be scared of Ron. “He's you-know-who’s son,” he bellowed, “And you're throwing yourself at him!”

“I'm not!” you exclaimed, but it sounded more like a plea than anything else. “And he's not using me, I'm just tutoring him, I swear!” Remembering his words, a hint of anger finally crept into your tone. “And he's not his father, he's nothing like him!”

Suddenly, you caught a movement out of the corner of your eyes. It was so small, and should have disappeared into those of the crowd, but somehow, you were drawn to it, as if it had been highlighted by a stage light. Your heart sank. It was Mattheo, behind him his group of Slytherin friends. He was standing at the edge of the crowd, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your stomach drop. His jaw was clenched so tight you thought it might snap, and his hands were balled into fists at his sides, barely restrained fury radiating off of him.

There was a dangerous edge to his stance, the kind of tension that promised violence if someone as much as breathed the wrong way. You could see the way his gaze now darted between Harry and Ron, as if calculating how quickly he could get to the latter and shut him up for good. And yet, beneath the storm of anger, you thought you could make out something else- something almost protective- that made your already racing heart pound only faster against your ribcage, though you couldn't decide whether it was in fear or something more … complicated.

When you locked eyes with him, you shook your head pleadingly, and to your utter surprise, the hand that had been wandering to his wand halted. You'd never seen him look so serious as when he now raised a brow at you, that had your breath caught up in your throat. He was waiting for your signal, your permission- even though Ron said all these horrible things about him. When you shook your head subtly, he took a small step back, though still glaring at Ron and vigilant.

“Can't you hear yourself?” Harry chimed in, hands balled into fists also. Hermoine, who seemed to get increasingly embarrassed by all the attention, tried to tug them towards the Great Hall, but he fended her off and looked at you angrily. “He's already manipulating you, you can't trust him!”

“His father’s you-know-who, for Merlin's sake,” Ron spat, “Do you need it spelled out for you? You're so naive if you think he's different. You're muggleborn, he'd probably kill you without even fucking blinking the moment he has the chance!” You threw a nervous glance back at Mattheo, but his features seemed set in stone, unmovable, as he stared at Ron. Berkshire’s hand hovered over his shoulder, as if he was just waiting for him to snap and to have to hold him back from launching at Ron, but Mattheo showed no signs of attack except for his predatory stance. His friend’s eyes flickered towards you quickly and you looked away. “You have no idea what you're talking about!” you said, glaring and holding onto your bag for support, as if his next words would roll over you and bring you down like a storm. And they did.

With a humorless laugh, Ron balled his fists and stepped closer to you. “You're smarter than this- or at least I thought you were. But clearly, you'll believe anything as long as he says it with that stupid smirk of his! You're so fucking naive, risking everything-our trust, your safety-for some slimy Slytherin who probably laughs about you behind your back!”

His words hit you like a gut punch. They were designed to hurt, by someone you trusted taking advantage of your insecurities. Your hands started to shake and you gripped your handle tighter, willing yourself not to cry, not now, not here, not with everyone watching. You opened your mouth to speak, to defend yourself or him, but only a broken little noise emerged from your throat. Your defense seemed to fall from your lips and shatter like glass on the cold stone of the floor, right between you and the friend you'd trusted to never hurt you like this.

When the tears came, they were inevitable, burning in your eyes and finally slipping past your crumbling barrier. Embarrassment washed over you and you tried to wipe them off with a shaky hand, but it was in vain as now, as if a dam had broken. More tears emerged from your eyes and streaked down your cheeks as you suppressed the sobs with all your might. In front of you, Ron's chest stopped heaving suddenly, as if he had just sobered up from a moment of drunken madness, and you saw a hint of regret in his eyes. But, when he stepped closer, you took an instinctive step back. However, Ron didn't get the chance to say anything further, because the sudden sound of someone clapping pierced through the dense, tension-heavy air like a knife.

Mattheo's entire body tensed when he saw the tears stream down your face, saw your lower lip wobble, your wide, vulnerable eyes and your shoulders trembling under the weight of Weasley’s cruel words. Everything but a stranger to rage and violence, he'd only ever felt it on his behalf, or towards himself. This was new. It was like a switch flipped in his mind, an overwhelming roar thrumming against his ears and drowning out everything except the image of you breaking right in front of him. Fury coursed through his veins, hot and all-consuming, but beneath the rage, there was something that caught him off guard- an ache he couldn't name, sharp and suffocating, digging into his chest like a knife.

He hated seeing you like this, hated the way your pain seemed to ripple through you, almost hated you for making him feel as if he was falling apart with you. But he was. Seeing you cry set his every nerve on fire. How fucking dare Weasley make you feel like this? His hands curled and uncurled to fists so hard his nails dug into his palms, the raw sting being the only thing grounding him just enough to keep from charging through the onlookers immediately. But with every second he watched you recoil into yourself with hurt and shame, it became harder to hold back. He didn't even realize he was already approaching you, a low growl rumbling in his throat as his fury trembled just below his breaking point. No one made you cry- especially not some self-righteous Gryffindor.

As you whirled your head around, just like every single person in the hall, you saw Mattheo emerge from their midst, clapping his hands together. His fury was visible in his tense shoulder as and clenched jaw, barely contained and moments away from exploding. He sauntered towards Ron, a sly grin on his lips as he watched him up and down. Ron, reacting wisely, took a step back, his eyes flickering from Riddle’s wand-less hands to his face with hardly contained nervousness. “Congratulations, Weasley,” Mattheo grinned menacingly, his dark eyes glinting like ignited matches about to meet oil. “You just won yourself a prize.”

Then, Mattheo did the most curious thing- he stepped closer to Ron, so there was barely any room left, closing up on him as Ron inched back, and with an almost crazy, humorless grin, patted his cheek softly. Then, within the split of a second, he brought his arm back and his fist met Ron's jaw with a resounding crack. As Ron stumbled back, Mattheo grabbed his collar, kicked his shin and brought him to his knees. One hand held his head in place as he slammed his fist down on it again and again.

Drops of blood flew through the air and every hit produced a disgusting squelching sound as Ron roared in pain, grabbed Mattheo around the waist and attempted to slam him to the ground. But it was to no avail, as the latter spat in his face and launched himself towards Ron once more, making him feel every little bit of the hurt he'd caused you. Mattheo's head was thrumming with a mix of fury and the adrenaline-induced excitement of a good fight, but it was neither that made him ram his fists into every bit of Ron he could reach over and over again.

The image of you flashed before his eyes, of you crying, of you shaking. If he were the himself of a few months ago, he'd have scoffed at your weakness, called it pathetic. But now, nothing could equal the rage he felt seeing you hurt. When Weasley managed the occasional blow to his face, he didn't even register the pain, his mind taken over by a mindless need to punish him for making you cry. And any bit of pain he'd feel later as his knuckles cracked and bled, as Ron's fist met his jaw and nose and his own blood dropped down on the ginger beneath him, it would be deserved. Deep down, he knew it was his fault, maybe he even knew he was making it worse. But he didn't care, his mind overtaken by a sudden burst of hatred.

You stood, frozen, unable to move, as the crowd screamed, horrified, and the squelches of blood filled the air. Mattheo was punching Ron in silent concentration, it seemed, and he looked wild as a beast. His beautiful curls hung from his face as he caughed up blood and kicked and hit Ron without any care for defending himself, or shielding himself. You had to stop this, you were vaguely aware that this had to be your fault, but you couldn't, you were rooted to the spot as if you'd been hexed into immobilization.

Finally, the crowd burst apart as Professor McGonnagall and Professor Snape approached, alerted by the noisy onlookers. Nott, who hadn't moved in, either to help Mattheo or to break up the fight, now surged forward when he saw them and ripped Mattheo off of Ron forcefully, their fellow Slytherin's aiding him as they pulled Mattheo away from Ron, who was heaving and whimpering, his face a bloody mess. Mattheo, though looking far better off, had blood seeping down his face as well, struggling against his friend’s hold wildly.

Not even Theo’s harsh reminders of the Professor’s presence could clear the blood-red fog in Mattheo's head, clouding all reasonable thought. Oh, how ecstatic he felt when he could let someone pay for this fucking world, and how much better it felt to make someone pay for hurting you. But, unlike usual, his anger didn't subside when he saw the recipient of his wrath lay broken and bleeding on the ground. Hate pulsed through him in violent surges, even as Theo’s hands dug into his arms and his hissed warnings fell on deaf ears. Nothing could get through to him- until he saw you.

Still clutching your back, you stood rooted to your spot, eyes locked onto Ron’s coughing and bleeding figure. They were widened in horror, your shoulders raised in apprehension. Your shaken look washed over him like a tidal wave and sobered him up just as effectively. Mattheo stopped trashing against his friends’ hold, unable to do anything but stare at your widened eyes as dread and regret submerged him into their depths, making him unable to breathe or to think, suffocated by the weight of the realization what he'd done. He'd made you afraid of him. In your eyes, he had to have confirmed all your friends’ warnings.

Finally, you were able to tear your eyes away from Ron and frantically searched the crowd for Mattheo, spotting his bloody figure being dragged away by the combined efforts of his friends. When they emerged from the crowd, Mattheo seemed to snap out of some sort of fever and pushed Nott off of him. Without looking at you, he took off towards the entry gates and students burst out of his way, scrambling to not stand in his path. With a resounding pound, he pushed open the gates and slammed them shut behind him.

Mattheo had barely ever felt worse than he did right now. Scratch that, he had never felt worse. Not when he'd been tortured by his father, not when he'd almost suffered death at the hands of his mother. What did he have to lose then? The cold night air hit his skin and made his scratches sting aggressively, but he made no efforts to heal them. He knew he deserved the pain. A cruel sort of satisfaction pulsed through him as he pressed down on the cut near his jaw, until the image of you flashed through his mind, how you’d stitched up his wound after the quidditch game.

But you weren't here now, he reminded himself. He'd scared you away, he'd lost you, just like all the good he'd ever had in his life, he didn't deserve you. You were right to be horrified, yet, the bitterness consumed him. How could he ever have hoped to be worthy of you? He tried to drown out the memory of you frowning at his smoking after the quidditch game and drew a pack of cigarettes from his inside pocket. His hands were trembling, for some reason, covered in blood and barely managing to pull out a cigarette and lighting it with a flick of his wrist.

Putting the burning smoke between his lips, he took a drag of it and the momentary relief flooded his mind. Though his bleeding lip stung in protest, he took another drag and breathed in the smoke. With uneasy steps, he walked down the stairs to the entrance hall until its golden light had given way to nightly darkness and he slumped down on one of the steps, taking continuous drags out of the cigarette. Self-loathing burned through him as he stared into the darkness. Why did he have to destroy everything that was good and kind in his cruel world?

When the sound of steps met his ears, he could have growled in frustration, until he realized that the steps were far too light and hesitant to be Theo’s. For a second he considered Pansy, but he knew who it was, really. You'd come, and he wished you hadn't. He wished he wouldn't have to look you in the eye and see the inevitable accusation, consequence of his stupidity. You'd been right there. Why couldn't he have waited to get Weasley somewhere you wouldn't see? Somewhere you wouldn't be, so you'd never know what kind of monster you'd been defending. No, he truly didn't deserve you.

The footsteps came to a halt a step back, but Mattheo didn't turn his head. He was a coward. All he could do was stare at the burning ember between his fingers as you took another step and sat down next to him on the stairs. You didn't speak, but Mattheo wished you would scream at him, so that he could dismiss you as just another person who hated him. But your silent accusation was much, much worse. The longer it went on, the more Mattheo’s head thrummed with the added pain of the bruises and cuts against the cool night air, until he couldn't take it anymore.

“You don't have to say it,” Mattheo's voice cut through the cold air in between you, loaded up with simmering tension. “If you're just here to yell at me, know that I've heard it all and just go.” Surprised, you turned to look at him, taking him all in. His curls hung into his eyes in a way that made you want to brush them away. But even if it'd been appropriate, you wouldn't have wanted to hurt the bleeding cut on his temple further. A burning cigarette dangled off his lips and his hands, covered in blood, wrung in his lap.

“Why did you do it?” you asked quietly, not moving an inch. The scene that had just taken place seemed to cling to you both, making you unable to face each other. Your thoughts were scattered and unfocused, still hurting from Ron’s words and caught in a whirlwind of concern for both of the boys. McGonnagall had started dragging Ron, who was unable to walk, to the hospital wing, but Mattheo's injuries had stayed unattended to. You felt the strong desire to reach over, take his hands into yours and treat his cuts and bruises, but you knew he wouldn't let you. When you glanced over, you caught him pressing down on one of his cuts, making more blood seep from it, down, get caught up in his brow. Following the drop of blood with your eyes, they suddenly fell onto his.

Mattheo hadn't intended to defend himself. Attempting to defend himself would open him up to rejection of his desperate plea for you to understand, to forgive, to card your soft and unsullied hands through his hair and tell him that everything was going to be alright. Stupid daydreams, fucking delusions, yet he couldn't help the words that fell from his lips when he locked eyes with you and his self-loathing was overpowered by a sudden surge of fear, to see the same look of disgust and horror on your face that he had been getting ever since he set foot in the school. “I saw you cry and everything just… disappeared.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, but there was no malice in your expression. Of course there wasn't. Because you were a fucking angel. Next to you, he was a greedy demon. “Wait,” you said, your voice somewhat softer than before, and leaned closer. Mattheo wished you hadn't, because the way your eyes glinted up close reminded him of that fateful night in the kitchens. You looked just as pretty now, only that he was now willing to admit it to himself. “You beat him up for … me?”

Mattheo shrugged roughly and looked away from you to take another drag out of his cigarette. The smoke emerged from his lips in fascinating shapes that your eyes clung to as he answered. “‘Course, what did you think?” Your gaze dropped to your hands as you played with your fingers, deep in thought. You had just assumed it had been Ron’s comments about Mattheo that had set him off, but he sounded too blunt to be dishonest. Per usual.

“Well,” you said hesitantly and stealing another glance at him. “He said some pretty awful things about you as well.”

Mattheo looked up in surprise, but when he met your gaze, his jaw clenched. Of course, you'd think of him, even after what he'd done to Weasley. Your eyes were sharp and steady, but when you shifted closer to him, he could practically feel the warmth radiating off of your body. “But he was right,” he said roughly and squashed out his cigarette. Glowing embers floated towards the ground and melted the snow where they landed.

“What do you mean?” you asked softly, and he refused to look at you. “I didn't need tutoring in muggle studies. I just wanted to take advantage of your kindness and be able to have you to myself more often.” His monotone voice couldn't betray the storm brewing in his chest. You needed to know, for some reason, you needed to know. He had to come clean now, he wanted to watch your face fall as he tore apart the image you had of him so you'd finally stop looking at him with these wide, good eyes that looked so unfairly beautiful.

Your heart beat hard against your ribs as you processed his words. Why did he want you to himself more often? Had the kiss on the cheek last night meant anything more than friendship? Doubt and excitement curled in your stomach. Could Mattheo Riddle really like you like that? You'd never really been someone’s priority, yet, tonight, he'd fought Ron for you. Not that you condoned his behavior. “Why did you want me all to yourself?” you finally dared to ask, your voice shaking slightly.

Mattheo didn't answer, only taking another cigarette out of his pack and igniting it via wandless magic. You guessed it was the stress paired with the need to do something with his hands, the last one you could emphasize with. Because you didn't smoke, your fingers fiddled absentmindedly with your school skirt until they closed around the hem in a decisive manner. Thankfully, your voice was steady when you addressed him once more. “You do know, though, don't you?” you asked, attempting to meet his gaze. “That I don't see you like Ron does.”

A bitter chuckle left his lips, along with another curl of smoke that danced in the air between you, as if it was mocking you. When he spoke, his voice was hard and closed off, allowing no room for discussion. “Didn't I just prove him right?” It was technically a question, but he seemed to have decided the matter already, which made an unsuspected surge of anger flare up in you.

“No!” you said, louder than you'd intended, and your raised voice finally seemed to shake him up enough to bring himself to look at you. Your heart seized when you realized he'd averted his eyes because they were glistening traitorously. You reached over to grab his hand, it was slimy with blood, but you didn't care. To your relief, Mattheo seemed too stunned by your touch to say something. “You're nothing like your father,” you said, emphasizing each word in a desperate attempt to convey what you thought of him, to correct whatever he believed you to think. “You're nothing like him,” you said again, gaze never so much as wavering.

Another small, humorless laugh filled the air as he swayed his head lightly, a bitter smile on his bleeding lips. He took another drag off the cigarette before taking it out of his mouth and blowing the smoke out softly, so it mingled and curled between the two of you, like a wall, or a blanket to hide himself under. Through the fog, you could still see the light shimmer in his dark eyes. “Darling, you just watched me beat your friend half to death,” he drawled, ironically, and turned from you once more when the smoke had subsided.

His bitterness and unwillingness to listen sparked defiance in you and you shuffled even closer to force him to look at you. “I never said you didn't have issues, darling,” you replied, matching his sarcasm. Mattheo laughed again, but this time, it was a genuine sort of chuckle he himself seemed surprised by. Suddenly, he winced lightly and another drop of blood emerged from his busted lip.

Almost instinctively, you reached over and wiped over his cheek to brush it away. One hand slipped into your inner jacket pocket as you pulled out the flask of murtlap juice you always carried around with you, just in case. Dabbing some onto your finger, you leaned even closer to him and softly ran your fingers over his lip, his cheek, his bruises and cuts. You felt him watching you when suddenly, he seized your waist and pulled you closer, making you gasp in surprise.

Mattheo couldn't believe it. Here you were, fretting over him, your brows furrowed in worry. Here you were, healing his scratches, when you should have been screaming, or crying, or coldly bidding him goodbye. As your hand ran over his cheek and threatened to reach the deepest gash, his hands seized either sides of your waist as if by instinct. The adorable little gasp it elicited to you was music to his undeserving ears, he hated the way he reveled in it. His thumbs brushed over your sides selfishly as he leaned closer and basked in the invisible light you spread. “Do you really think that?”

“I know it,” you said, softly now that you had finally reached him. You brushed off the remaining murtlap essence on your skirt and hesitantly cupped his cheeks with your hands. It felt strange to touch him, as if you were breaching museum guidelines by touching their marble statues. Statues higher than any living man who might have inspired them. “I used to think otherwise,” you confessed, unable to hide the tenderness in your voice, “but not anymore. I used to think you were all hard edges and cold ice, I once thought you couldn't feel pain, couldn't feel anything, really. But I know you now, and I know that I was wrong about you. Because the man I know can be kind and funny and so unlike what I thought he was.” A light frown adorned your face. “Mattheo, why do you keep pressing on that cut?”

He didn't have to say, because you knew, of course you did. Biting down on your lip, you searched his face for some sign to either stop or continue, but you couldn't find one. “Listen to me, Mattheo,” you said urgently, “you're not who they always told you you were.” You hadn't meant for your voice to drop to a murmur, and now it was like whispering secrets in class, unveiling hidden truths under the watchful eye of your worlds.

To your shock, you suddenly felt him tremble slightly under your touch and your eyes widened. Mattheo seemed to be suppressing the shaking of his shoulders, but his body twitched with suppressed emotion. Acting purely off of instinct, you surged forward and wrapped your arms around him.

The moment your arms wrapped around him, Mattheo froze, his breath catching as if all air had been knocked out of his lungs. He wasn't used to this- this kind of warmth, this kind of comfort, especially when he felt he didn't deserve it. For a good second, he didn't move, afraid that if he even breathed too hard, the fantasy would shatter, you'd pull away and leave him with the hollow ache he'd been carrying ever since he stormed out of the entrance hall. But then, as he felt your warm breath against his temple, as if it was living proof that he wasn't merely imagining things, or living through one of his fathers cruel nightmares, he caved in.

Slowly, Mattheo let himself sink into the embrace, his shoulders sagging as the tension seemed to bleed out of him. The blood from his face and hands tainted your white shirt, but you didn't seem to care, only softly stroking over his back in soothing patterns. You were good at this, too good. You surely had given, and had been given, many hugs in your life, you were an expert. His own hands hovered awkwardly at first as he became aware of the fact that he'd never actually been hugged like this. An irrational surge of panic flooded through him that he couldn't do it, didn't know how to return the gesture, that he couldn't hug you. But then, he hesitantly placed them on your back, suddenly clinging to you as if you were the only thing grounding him and keeping him from falling apart entirely.

Your touch softened the storm raging and roaring inside of him, but it also brought a lump to his throat that he couldn't swallow down. Because he couldn't help but think you deserved someone who knew how to give hugs.

“I'm not gonna go,” you said in a low voice, remembering how he’d dismissed you earlier, and felt him almost shudder under your touch. You couldn't quite grasp that you were hugging Mattheo Riddle, and he was hugging you back as if you were his lifeline, more so grabbing you than anything else, movements uncertain as if he wasn't quite sure what to do.

“You won't?” he suddenly whispered and you nodded your head as you ran a hand through his curls. God, how you had long dreamed of doing that. “Promise,” you said softly as you carded the strands through your fingers and drew patterns on his scalp.

He suddenly stirred, his hands fell from your back and down to your sides as they found your waist once more. With a careful but firm motion, he moved you onto the step next to him and turned to face you, a serious expression on his bloodied face. His dark eyes were almost glaring, though not at you, and he howered so close to you that you could feel his hot breath on your cheeks and, even in the dark, could see the golden sprinkles in his eyes. Your heart was beating so loudly you were surprised he didn't hear it, or maybe he did and didn't mention it. Was it the adrenaline of the fight acting, or just his usual flirtatiousness? Somehow, you thought it was neither.

“You know that I'd never hurt you, right?” he asked gravely, brows furrowed over his dark eyes. He'd never looked this beautiful before, in spite of the blood and the bruises.

“Yes,” you said, without hesitation, and some of the tension seemed to be leaving Mattheo as his shoulders relaxed slightly.

Encouraged by your words, he leaned even closer until his breath fanned your lips and your breath hitched slightly, making his lips and fingers twitch. “You know I'd fucking kill anyone who does?” he said, as if it were a vow. Both his voice and his eyes were steady and dead-serious, but his thumbs brushed over your sides tenderly.

“Mattheo, he didn't mean to,” you breathed, hardly knowing what you were saying anymore. His proximity made you dizzy, but you'd nothing to hold onto but him.

Mattheo groaned lightly, a sound of frustration, and dipped his head down to your neck. You prayed he couldn't hear how fast your pulse was going, would stock the goosebumps up to the cold night air that suddenly seemed so hot. “Don't you defend him,” he growled into your neck, nipping lightly at the skin there and eliciting a small squeak from you. Raising his head once more, he stared into your eyes with such intensity that your hands started to tremble under the weight of his gaze. “Fuck, I never want to see you cry again, princess.”

This was an irreversible breach of your previous platonicism, you knew there was no going back now, and, as always, your brain could scarcely keep up with him. He was a whirlwind, a force of nature, utterly destructive and terrifyingly beautiful, something you had admired from afar but always felt the pull towards. Now, you were too close, it was inevitable that you would be drawn to him completely, be pulled into his stormy midst, discover what lay behind his deadly armor. And God, how you didn't mind it one bit.

“Mattheo…,” you breathed, no words forming in your mind, just his name as you stared up into his dark eyes. They reflected the starry sky, and somehow, it was even more beautiful through his eyes than when you'd admired it from the grounds before your detention. The storm in them had subsided somewhat, or maybe, this was the eye of the storm, because in this moment, all there was in your world was him, his breathing, his voice, his touch and his serious eyes. Nothing else.

“I'd burn down the whole world for you,” he said heavily, and a nervous little chuckle fell from your lips. His eyes darted down to them. “There's six billion people in that world you want to burn down,” you reminded him, and his eyes snapped back up to yours as he frowned. Mattheos head swam as he leaned closer, his heart pounding hard against his ribs. He'd never wanted anything as much as he wanted this.

“I only care about one of them.”

As his lips met yours, it wasn't the reckless, impulsive kiss you'd half-expected. it was tender, almost hesitant, as if he was afraid you might pull away. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Thoughts reduced to the memory of his eyes and words and the feeling of his slightly chapped lips on yours. The kiss wasn’t just a spark; it was a thread pulling you closer to him, unraveling every doubt you may have had left about him. The faint metallic taste in your mouth couldn't deter you from deepening the kiss and burying your hands in his dark curls once more.

Mattheo could have died, right here, right now, so he could never ruin this moment. When you slipped your soft fingers into his hair, he let out a low groan that you answered with a hitched breath before he got a hold of your neck and pulled you against him once more. He was in fucking heaven, or at least as close to it as was possible for a creature like him. The hand that didn't hold your neck circled your waist and pulled you towards him, making you gasp into his mouth and giving him the chance to slip his tongue past your lips. The soft sigh it elicited from you made his head spin.

For a moment, he had to restrain himself from seizing you, kissing you until you couldn't breathe, sneak his hands under your neatly tucked shirt and bury them in your soft flesh, drawing out more of these damn noises that drove him absolutely crazy.

But, alas, you pulled away to catch your breath. Mattheo's lips chased after yours, and when you evaded him, he dipped down to trail soft pecks along the side of your neck, making you shudder with excitement. His voice vibrated against your vulnerable throat as he spoke. “Look, I'm not great at this kind of thing, but…,” he looked up and you found yourself helplessly lost in his soft brown eyes. “Would it be completely insane if I asked you to be my girlfriend?”

“I think you've never been closer to sanity, Mattheo,” you managed to chuckle before he claimed your lips once more, bruised fingers carding into your hair to pull you close. His teeth grazed your bottom lip as he dipped your head expertly.

“And it's all gone again,” he whispered in between kisses, sighing into your mouth before teasingly biting down on your bottom lip. He chuckled when you slapped the back of his head tenderly and he wiped some blood away from your face that had dribbled there from one of his cuts. His suddenly pensive eyes found yours again, though a teasing smile tugged at his lips as his thumb brushed over your kiss-bitten lips. “Don't worry, your big secret is safe with me. Wouldn't want anyone to know you’re dating the Dark Lord’s son.”

“Actually,” you said, averting your eyes to your hands. Taking his into yours and resting them on your lap, you looked up at him hesitantly. “I'd like not to hide it. If it's okay with you, of course.”

Mattheo seemed to freeze, a frown adorning his beautiful features. “What, really?” he asked, completely taken aback. His thumb was still brushing over your chin, though you were quite sure there were no remnants of blood left.

“Yeah,” you said, somewhat embarrassed by the fervent look on his face. “I mean, why wouldn't I want people to know that I managed to pull Mattheo Riddle?”

With a bitter chuckle, he shook his head. “That's not a brag, princess.”

But the look you gave him was one of utmost earnestness as your digits closed around his bruised up hands and you leaned forward. “It is to me.”

For a moment, all Mattheo could do was stare at you, not quite able to believe what he'd just heard. Your words echoed in his mind, breaking through every wall he'd spend years building, dismantling the armor he wore so tightly around himself. He felt something tighten in his chest- raw and entirely unfamiliar. “Are you… sure?” he asked, his voice quieter than he intended, laced with disbelief. When you nodded your head, a slow, almost disbelieving smile curved his lips, but his eyes shimmered with something deeper, something more vulnerable.

He ran a hand through his hair, laughing softly under his breath as though trying to process that someone like you could actually want to be with someone like him. For once in his life, he didn’t feel like the monster everyone said he was. Mattheo had never felt this soft, and he knew whatever you'd ever ask of him, he'd do it without doubt or hesitation. Because, fuck, he was so in love with you.

When entering the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning, Mattheo almost doubted the events of the last evening had even taken place. If it hadn't been for the sting in his lip. And you. It didn't take him more than a couple of seconds to spot you, sitting on the Gryffindor table next to the red haired Weasley girl. To his great relief, you were smiling as you put jam on your toast and laughed at something she said. Wishing he was close enough to hear the sound, he didn't even realize he had stopped walking until Enzo shoved his shoulder. “What's wrong?”

Before he could dismiss him, you looked up from your toast and somehow, as if by a magnetic force, your gaze landed on him. He'd expected you to give him one of your sweet smiles, maybe, if he was in luck, but you didn't. Instead, you said something to the Weasley girl and rose from your seat, walking along the Gryffindor table and making a beeline for the entrance. For him. Mattheo saw your eyes flicker to Enzo and the rest of his friends, somewhat shyly, and he pushed Enzo away roughly. “Go sit down.” They did without protest.

Mattheo turned back to you as you approached and came to a halt before him, almost indecisively. But then, without a word of greeting, you leaned up and placed your soft lips on his. Mattheo seemed to freeze for the split of a second, but then, both his hands cupped your face, pulled you impossibly closer and dipped you just right to devour you. His tongue slipped into your mouth before you could even register the sudden surge of intensity and you mewled slightly, completely helpless in his hold as his lips claimed yours again and again and again-

“Mr Riddle!”

You shot around violently and your cheeks flushed deep red when you saw Professor McGonnagall standing a few feet from you, hands on her hips and looking absolutely furious. Behind her, you could vaguely make out the gaping faces of students, and a whisper seemed to run through the hall, but Mattheo paid it no mind, nor did he your Transfiguration Professor. You felt his lips peppering kisses along your jaw and slapped the back of his head with a hiss. McGonnagall drew an indignant breath in through her nose, building herself up to her full height- which was quite considerable.

“This is a level of inappropriateness I do not accept from Hogwarts students,” she hissed at Mattheo, though refusing to look him in the eye properly. Mattheo had raised his brows, hands still around your neck as he hovered over you. “Now, really,” said Professor McGonnagall angrily. “Ten points off of Slytherin. And both of you, return to your house tables.”

You quickly pushed Mattheo off, who seemed reluctant to let you go. He gave McGonnagall a sinister glare before pressing one last kiss onto your cheek and smiling at you. “Good morning, princess.” Biting down on your bottom lip, you gave him a sheepish look that made it near impossible for him to walk away from you. But, alas, you turned to walk back to the Gryffindor table that had broken out into hushed whispers and pointed fingers.

As Mattheo strolled along the Slytherin table, he watched you sit down next to the Weasley girl who immediately jumped you with questions. There was an uncertain sensation in his stomach when he saw the way some of the Gryffindors gave you looks of disgust, the girls especially. As if half of them hadn't slept with him already, only for it to be their dirty little secret, and now they dared to point at you, who loved him openly. His jaw clenched when he saw Potter stand up from the table and brush past you without a word, but, as if you'd sensed his irritation, you glanced over and your lips twitched impossibly sweetly.

Sitting down in between Enzo and Theo, he held your gaze for a second before you looked away to address the Weasley girl. When he directed his attention to breakfast, he was instead faced with five sets of raised eyebrows. “So,” said Blaise, barely containing a smirk. “What the fuck happened last night? Must’ve really given her a good time of she's already forgotten that you beat Weasley into an infirmary bed.”

“Shut up,” growled Mattheo, twisting his knife between his fingers and glancing back at you, who seemed to get bombarded with questions by the Weasley girl. “I didn't.”

“Jeez, how’d you manage to soften little miss perfect up then?” said Pansy, also throwing a glance at you before turning back to them. “Can't have been your personality.” She ignored Mattheo's glare and dug into her scrambled eggs, still glancing behind herself every once in a while curiously. Mattheo didn't answer, only leaning back in his chair with the expression of someone who definitely wasn't in the mood for chatting. That couldn't deter his friends, though.

“I've got to know,” grinned Blaise teasingly and pointed his fork at his unwilling interlocutor. “Was this whole thing some sort of grand plan to mess with Weasley and Potter, or did you actually go soft for her?” Mattheo's eyes snapped up at him and his gaze darkened. “Don't you fucking say that to her.” “Oh, so you have!” cooed Blaise and Pansy started to giggle, causing Mattheo to roll his eyes at them.

But the platinum haired boy next to Blaise didn't seem very amused. A sour expression twisted his features as he watched his friend closely, the bacon long forgotten on his plate. “So you're just self-sabotaging for fun now?” Draco said through clenched teeth, his tone causing all heads but Mattheo's to turn. “How long do you think this will last, really? She’s a Gryffindor to her core, Mattheo. She’ll toss you aside the moment you show her who you really are.”

Enzo shot him a very firm look, but Mattheo didn't even bother acknowledging him. Frowning lightly, Enzo looked back at him, maybe to see whether he had spontaneously lost consciousness, but Mattheo only looked over to you, remembering how he'd promised you last night, before you'd slipped back into your common room: no fights tomorrow. He knew you were testing him, it only now became fully clear to him that you'd intentionally opened yourself up to public scrutiny. To get it over with, sure. Because you wanted people to know, fair. But also, because you knew it'd be a test of his restraint.

Not only Enzo stared at Mattheo when the latter chuckled lowly, eyes still locked on your figure as you finished your plate and rose from your seat to be perfectly on time for Arithmancy. He was glad to see that Granger joined you and seemed to strike up a hesitant conversation. Enzo’s eyes flickered between him and you. A slight smile played around his lips. “This was… unexpected. But good for you, mate, she's cute.” Draco scoffed and Mattheo clenched his fists, remembering your sweet smile and the promise he'd given to you.

The only one who’s opinion Mattheo cared about even slightly, as always, was Theo, but Theo did what he did best: silently staring into space and scowling. At any rate, he wasn't too keen to keep on talking about the matter, so he rose from the table. Pansy frowned when he grabbed his back. “You haven't eaten a thing.”

“Oh,” grinned Blaise, “my bet is he wants to be punctual to impress his girlfriend.” His girlfriend. His. The thought made Mattheo's lips twitch involuntarily, and Blaise slammed his hand into the table, grinning. “See? I was right! Look at that smile! Merlin, Mattheo, you're down so bad.”

He was, fucking hell, he was so down bad for you. But he left his friends without another word, approaching the stone steps as even more heads than usual turned after him. A sudden worry churned in his chest. Yes, you were his. But being his brought certain dangers. As long as his friends didn't let anything slip, and as long as you were at Hogwarts, anyway, you were safe from his father at least. But Mattheo knew his father wouldn't be the only one disapproving of your relationship.

Over the course of the next days, the topic of your unlikely relationship with Mattheo was the main issue of interest all around the castle. In the following week, you could barely pass someone in the halls without them sticking their heads together in hushed whispers. Everyone who had missed your kiss at breakfast was now greatly informed about it, in a level of detail you guessed most of them lacked in their exams. Curious, how your private business was more interesting to people than the goblin riots of the fifteenth century and their present implications on wizarding goblin relations, though you couldn't deny that this new gossip was the exact type of thing that would catch people's interest.

The whispering wasn't what bothered you, it was the assumptions made about you, and about Mattheo. Only that Mattheo was used to scrutiny and nasty rumors, which was new territory for you. Many students, for example, seemed to assume you to be in danger, especially those of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff house. Not that their concern wouldn't have been sweet any other day, but it bothered you how people always assumed the worst about Mattheo, now that you had gotten to know the real him.

When you'd relayed these worries to Mattheo one warmer afternoon at the lake when the ice had melted and you could sit on the grass, he'd chuckled appreciatively, calling you his sweet girl for being outraged about how people treated him. He'd said he couldn't be bothered less how they thought of him, but you suspected it was more so that he had gotten used to the worst. You wished others would see him the way you did, but Mattheo didn't exactly make it easy for them either. Not when, anytime someone pointed at the two of you walking together in the halls, he cast them a threatening look and had to be held back by your soft touch.

With some, this had earned you the title of a monster tamer, which bothered you even more than the worried assumptions, but was a great source of amusement for Mattheo. When he'd first heard it from you as you recounted someone using the word with poised lips, he'd laughed outright and shuffled around so his head was in your lap. Getting a hold of your wrist, he'd guided your hand to his hair and practically purred how you'd managed to tame the beast with your incredible sweetness and brilliance. Embarrassingly, you'd blushed, only making his grin widen.

By far the most negative reception was that of your own house. Most Gryffindors considered your relationship with you-know-who’s son a betrayal of house honor. Some seemed to think you superficial, which in turn greatly troubled Mattheo while you only rolled your eyes at it, tugging him back whenever someone made a snide comment.

To your immense surprise, however, Mattheo hadn't gotten into a single fight since his promise, even though he had more material to work with than ever. And, last Tuesday, one of his friends, Lorenzo Berkshire, had even approached you panting as you came from your runes class to get you down to the Great Hall quickly to stop Mattheo from picking a fight with a mouthy Gryffindor sixth year.

Meanwhile, Mattheo had turned into more of a gentleman than you’d ever have imagined. He walked you to class whenever possible, interlocking your fingers, giving you sweet kisses before class, waiting for you afterwards and stealing small moments of affection all over the castle. You were sure you knew every broom cupboard in Hogwarts from the inside by now, as it was his preferred place to drag you in your breaks. As Berkshire snitched you as a thanks for keeping Mattheo in check, he was already planning your date for the following Hogsmeade weekend, sending you into a frenzy whether you even had anything to wear for such an occasion.

Ron had been released from the hospital wing two days after his fight with Mattheo, still littered with bruises and cuts and having incredible trouble chewing, since Mattheo had broken his jaw. When you'd told him, he'd smiled smugly into your hair, you couldn't see it but hear it in his voice as he murmured “too fucking bad for him, then.” Ron wasn't talking to you, and you made no efforts to approach him either, following Hermoine's advice and waiting until he came around to the idea at least a little. Even though you were frustrated at how long even that took.

Harry had been a little more forgiving. After a few days of awkward silent treatment, you'd talked as the last two people in the common room. And after you'd practically written his whole charms homework for him, he found it in himself to forgive you, though he was still disapproving and highly distrustful of your relationship. You, who hadn't expected much more, were merely relieved that you were on speaking terms again and did your best to avoid the topic of Mattheo with him around, trying not to set him off. You hadn't forgotten the confrontation in the Entrance Hall.

Hermoine was easily the most forgiving out of the three. Though she, too, did neither trust nor like Mattheo and was worried for you, she still recognized that it was your decision and trusted your judgement on whether he was a danger to you or not. After countless reassurances, she'd finally stopped awkwardly standing beside you when Mattheo kissed you before and after class, and you were glad about it. Now, as you were walking down the steps on Saturday evening for dinner, she talked to you in a tone that didn't even indicate your previous argument in the slightest.

“And so I told him that goblins have contributed a lot to the field of magical science, at least three times, mind you. And in the test, when asked about the accomplishments of goblins in the wizarding world, he writes about their creative name giving!” Hermoine scoffed incensedly and shook her head as you ascended towards the Entrance Hall. “Seriously, he never listens!”

But before you could answer, Luna Lovegood approached you up the steps against the wave of Gryffindors walking in the opposite direction. Slightly out of breath, she came to a halt before the two of you and directed her large eyes at you. “Professor Dumbledore wants to see you in his office.”

You exchanged an incredulous look with Hermoine and frowned. “Why?”

Luna shrugged, her voice dreamy. “I think your new boyfriend got into a fight.” Seemingly unaware about your sudden intake of breath, she smiled, as if all was said, and turned around to follow the string of students approaching the Great Hall, leaving you shocked. You'd known the peace wouldn't last forever. But Mattheo could handle himself. How could the fight have been so bad that you were called to Dumbledore’s office? Was he hurt badly?

Just when you were about to start hyperventilating, you felt Hermoine's hand on your shoulder. She looked serious, but not angry. “Dumbledore’s office, remember?” You nodded, bidded Hermoine goodbye and sifted through the students, heart leaping to your chest in worry as you hurried to the headmaster’s office. What on earth could he have done this time?

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moonlightwritingf1 · 7 months ago

Text

Until you noticed me | OP81

🎀 summary ━━━━━━━ At a rooftop party, Y/N and Oscar’s friendship takes a turn when Oscar’s protective instincts reveal his deeper feelings.

🎀 pairing ━━━━━━━ Oscar Piastri x she!reader

🎀 word count ━━━━━━━ 2.8k

Y/N had always admired Oscar Piastri from a distance. They met through mutual friends less than a year ago, and since then, their paths seemed to cross more often than either of them anticipated. Whether it was casual hangouts, race weekends, or the odd late-night group chat, their friendship had grown naturally, albeit with an undertone of something neither dared to acknowledge.

Oscar was calm and collected—a sharp contrast to her more adventurous, carefree personality. While she saw him as her ever-reliable friend, Oscar saw her as so much more. He’d never admit it outright, but he found himself constantly drawn to her, whether it was to keep her safe or simply to bask in her radiant energy.

That night, they were at a rooftop party in London, celebrating the end of the racing season. The evening was cool but pleasant, and Y/N was mingling effortlessly, as she always did. Oscar, meanwhile, kept to the edges of the crowd, watching her with a quiet intensity.

She looked stunning, her laughter carrying over the music and conversation. But what caught Oscar’s attention wasn’t just how beautiful she looked—it was the way she seemed completely unaware of how many eyes followed her around the room. It was something he admired and found infuriating all at once.

He didn’t notice the man until he was already standing too close to Y/N. At first, Oscar told himself to stay out of it. She could handle herself; she always did. But then the guy leaned in, his body language too pushy, and Y/N’s smile faltered just slightly.

Oscar didn’t think. He just acted.

He crossed the room quickly, his presence quiet but commanding. “Y/N,” he said, his voice calm but firm, “been looking for you.”

She turned, relief flashing across her face. “Oscar!”

Without hesitation, he slipped his arm around her waist, his hand resting protectively against her side. “Mind if I steal her for a moment?” he asked the man, though his tone made it clear he wasn’t actually asking.

The man hesitated, his confidence wavering under Oscar’s steady gaze. “Sure, mate. No problem.”

As the guy walked away, Y/N looked up at Oscar, her lips curving into a small smile. “What’s this? My knight in shining armor?”

“Just making sure you’re okay,” he said, his hand lingering on her waist a second longer before he forced himself to let go.

She rolled her eyes playfully, though her heart fluttered at the intensity in his gaze. “I was fine, you know.”

“Maybe,” he replied, his tone light but his eyes serious. “But I wasn’t going to risk it.”

The party carried on, but Y/N found herself gravitating toward Oscar more than usual. They ended up sitting together on a quieter section of the rooftop, away from the music and crowd.

“You’re always looking out for me,” she said, sipping her drink and glancing at him over the rim of her glass.

“Someone has to,” he replied with a small smirk.

“I’m not that reckless,” she protested.

“Y/N,” he said, raising an eyebrow, “you climbed onto a railing at the last party just to ‘see the view better.’”

She laughed, nudging his arm. “Okay, fair. But you didn’t have to pull me down like I was going to fall to my death.”

“Didn’t I, though?” he teased, but his smile softened. “You’re important to me, Y/N. I’d rather be overprotective than regret not stepping in.”

Her laughter faded, and she studied him for a moment. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

Her cheeks warmed at his words, but she quickly brushed it off. “Well, I guess I’m lucky to have you, huh?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, his eyes locking with hers. “Lucky.”

For a moment, the air between them shifted, the buzz of the party fading into the background. Y/N felt her pulse quicken under his gaze, but she quickly looked away, laughing nervously.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, half-joking.

“Like what?” he asked, though his voice was lower now.

“Like... I don’t know. Like that.”

Oscar tilted his head, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “Maybe you’re just imagining things.“

“Maybe,” she muttered, though her cheeks burned.

When the party ended, Oscar offered to drive her home, and she accepted without hesitation. The car ride was quiet at first, the city lights casting shadows across their faces as they drove.

“Thanks for tonight,” she said softly, breaking the silence.

“Anytime,” he replied, glancing at her briefly before turning back to the road.

She hesitated, then added, “You know, you didn’t have to step in earlier. But... I’m glad you did.”

He smirked, his grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly. “You said that already. What’s really on your mind?”

She bit her lip, debating whether to say what she was thinking. Finally, she turned to him. “You care about me a lot, don’t you?”

Oscar’s heart skipped a beat, but he kept his expression neutral. “Is that a trick question?”

“No, I’m serious,” she said, her voice softer now.

He sighed, pulling over to the side of the road. The car idled as he turned to face her. “Yeah, I do. Probably more than I should.”

Her breath hitched at his confession, her eyes searching his. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “you’re my friend. And I didn’t want to risk losing you.”

Her heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. She reached out, her fingers brushing against his hand. “Oscar...”

He shook his head, a small, self-deprecating smile on his lips. “It’s fine, Y/N. I’ve gotten pretty good at pretending.”

But before he could pull away, she leaned across the console, her lips pressing softly against his. It was tentative at first, but when he responded, his hand sliding to the back of her neck, it deepened into something more.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting together.

“You don’t have to pretend anymore,” she whispered, a small smile on her lips.

Oscar chuckled softly, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “Good. Because I don’t think I can.”

The drive resumed, but everything felt different now. The unspoken tension between them was finally gone, replaced by something much stronger. Neither of them knew what the future held, but for now, they were exactly where they wanted to be: with each other.

The air in the car was charged now, thick with emotions neither of them had fully voiced until this moment. Oscar’s hand rested on the gear shift, but his focus was entirely on Y/N, her lips slightly swollen from their kiss, her eyes wide as she looked at him.

He cleared his throat, his voice low and steady. “Are you sure about this? About me?”

Y/N tilted her head, studying him. “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Question yourself,” she said softly, reaching over to rest her hand on his forearm. “Oscar, you’re one of the best people I know. You don’t have to doubt how I feel about you.”

He blinked, her words hitting him like a jolt. “It’s just... I’ve thought about this so many times,” he admitted, his voice tinged with vulnerability. “But I always convinced myself it was impossible. That I’d ruin everything if I said how I felt.”

“You’re not ruining anything,” she said firmly, her fingers squeezing his arm. “If anything, I’m the one who’s been blind to what’s right in front of me.”

Oscar let out a small, shaky laugh, his hand moving to cover hers. “So... where does that leave us?”

She smiled, leaning back slightly, but her gaze remained locked on his. “That depends. Are you planning to keep pretending this didn’t happen, or are you ready to actually do something about it?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up into a smirk, his confidence growing. “You’re really not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

“Why should I?” she teased, though her tone was warm.

When they arrived at her apartment, neither of them made a move to get out of the car right away. The street was quiet, the only sounds coming from the faint hum of the engine and the occasional distant car passing by.

Oscar turned to her, his expression serious but tender. “Can I come up? Just to talk, I mean,” he added quickly, though the intensity in his gaze suggested there was more to his request.

Y/N smiled softly. “You don’t have to overthink it, Oscar. Come on.”

Inside her apartment, the atmosphere shifted again. The cozy warmth of her living room contrasted with the tension still lingering between them. Y/N kicked off her shoes and tossed her bag onto the couch, turning to find Oscar standing near the doorway, his hands in his pockets, looking almost shy.

“You can sit, you know,” she said, her voice light.

He smiled, stepping further inside and sitting on the couch, his eyes following her as she moved around the room. She grabbed two glasses of water from the kitchen and handed him one, sitting beside him on the couch.

For a moment, they just sat there, the silence filled with unspoken thoughts. Finally, Oscar set his glass down, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “I meant what I said earlier. About how much you mean to me.”

“I know,” she said softly, her hand reaching out to rest on his shoulder. “And I’m sorry it took me so long to see it. To see you.”

He turned to face her, his eyes searching hers. “You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t know.”

“But I should have,” she said, her voice tinged with regret. “You’ve been there for me through everything, Oscar. And now that I think about it, you’ve always been more than just a friend to me. I was just too scared to admit it, even to myself.”

He reached out, his hand cupping her cheek gently. “You don’t have to be scared anymore.”

She leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. When she opened them, he was still watching her, his gaze filled with a mix of love and desire that made her heart race.

“Oscar,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Yeah?” he murmured, his thumb brushing along her cheekbone.

“Kiss me again,” she said, her voice steady now.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Leaning in, his lips captured hers in a kiss that was deeper and more passionate than the one in the car. This time, there was no hesitation, no second-guessing. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer as her fingers tangled in his hair.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting together.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he admitted, his voice husky.

“Me too,” she confessed, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on the back of his neck.

Oscar chuckled softly, his hands tightening slightly on her waist. “So, what now?”

She grinned, her eyes sparkling. “I think we take it one step at a time. But I’m not letting you go, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Good,” he said, his tone serious. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

The night stretched on, the two of them talking, laughing, and sharing moments that had been building for months. As they curled up together on the couch, the weight of unspoken feelings finally lifted, both of them knowing they’d found something worth holding onto.

The soft glow of the living room lamps cast warm shadows on their faces as Oscar and Y/N stayed wrapped in each other's presence. The tension from earlier had dissolved into something more intimate—a quiet understanding that they were finally on the same page.

Y/N’s head rested against Oscar’s shoulder, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on his chest as they lay sprawled across the couch. The television played in the background, but neither of them paid it much attention.

“You know,” Y/N started, her voice playful but soft, “I always wondered why you’d get so worked up every time I did something remotely reckless. I just thought you were overly cautious.”

Oscar smirked, his fingers brushing through her hair. “You think climbing rooftops and arguing with strangers is remotely reckless?”

She laughed, the sound vibrating against his chest. “Okay, maybe a little more than remotely. But now it all makes sense. You’ve been secretly in love with me this whole time.”

His smirk turned into a sheepish grin. “It wasn’t exactly a secret, Y/N.”

She tilted her head to look at him, her brows furrowing in mock disbelief. “What do you mean?”

“Everyone knew,” he admitted, his voice tinged with amusement. “Lando teased me about it constantly. Even your friends dropped hints.“

Her eyes widened in shock. “Wait—what? My friends knew?”

Oscar chuckled, his hand sliding down to rest on her waist. “Apparently, I’m not as subtle as I thought.”

Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Oh my god, I’m the clueless one in this scenario, aren’t I?”

“You said it, not me,” Oscar teased, gently pulling her hands away from her face. “But I didn’t mind. I figured you’d notice eventually.”

She sighed, her cheeks still warm from embarrassment. “Well, you’re a lot more patient than I would’ve been.”

Oscar’s expression softened, his fingers brushing lightly against her cheek. “You were worth the wait, though.”

Her breath hitched at the sincerity in his voice, her heart swelling as she looked into his eyes. She leaned up to kiss him again, this one slower and more deliberate, her hands cradling his face.

As the kiss deepened, Oscar’s hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer until she was straddling him. The shift in position sent a shiver down her spine, the closeness between them sparking something electric.

“You’re playing with fire,” he murmured against her lips, his voice low and filled with desire.

“Maybe I like the heat,” she whispered back, a teasing smile tugging at her lips.

Oscar groaned softly, his grip on her tightening. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And yet, here you are,” she quipped, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

His hands slid up her back, his touch firm but careful. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“Why don’t you show me?” she challenged, her tone bold but breathless.

Oscar’s eyes darkened, his restraint teetering as he captured her lips again, this time with more urgency. His hands roamed, exploring the curve of her hips and the small of her back. She melted into him, her own hands tangling in his hair as their kisses grew more heated.

Somehow, they found themselves in her bedroom, their breaths ragged as they tumbled onto the bed. Oscar hovered over her, his gaze searching hers for any hesitation.

“Tell me to stop if this is too much,” he said, his voice soft but firm.

She cupped his face, her eyes locking with his. “I don’t want you to stop. I’ve wanted this for so long, Oscar.”

That was all the reassurance he needed. He kissed her deeply, his hands exploring her body with a mix of passion and reverence. Every touch, every kiss, was unhurried, as if he was savoring every second of this moment they’d both been waiting for.

Y/N arched into him, her fingers trailing over the muscles of his back. “You’re driving me crazy,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion and desire.

“Good,” he murmured, a smirk playing on his lips as he kissed down the column of her neck.

The night unfolded with a tenderness that spoke of more than just physical connection. It was about the months of unspoken feelings, the silent yearning that had built up between them. Every touch, every word, was a culmination of everything they’d held back for so long.

Later, as they lay tangled together under the covers, Y/N rested her head on Oscar’s chest, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on his skin.

“You know this changes everything, right?” she murmured.

Oscar tightened his arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “It doesn’t have to change anything we don’t want it to. Except now, I get to kiss you whenever I want.”

She smiled, tilting her head to look up at him. “Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm,” he said, leaning down to steal another kiss.

Y/N sighed contentedly, snuggling closer to him. “I can live with that.”

Oscar chuckled, his voice warm and full of affection. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go, Y/N. Not now, not ever.”

As the night stretched into early morning, the two of them drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, knowing that whatever challenges lay ahead, they’d face them together. For the first time, everything felt exactly as it should.

647 notes · View notes

benz12313 · 4 months ago

Note

🥺👉👈 ridoc who falls head over heels in love with violets twin who is autistic and he's an absolute sweetheart to her, and helps her when she needs something and protects her.

Also their dragons are mated and aotrom is very over protective of her.

I had so much fun writing this. I hope this was written well. As a parent of an autistic child (diagnosed) and as someone who suspects herself and her other child are AuDHD but in the process of getting diagnosed, I really tried to represent this well. I also think in the Fourth Wing universe, at least in Basgaith, many mental differences are shunned or looked down upon, so I went that angle with this fic. Please give me feedback on how I did with this request. I also have some ideas for a part two so let me know if you'd like that! Thank you for your request though! I had a lot of fun working on it. :)

Own Worst Enemy - Ridoc x Sorrengail!Reader

Warnings: violence, death, dragon mate possessive behaviour

Word Count: 4,274

I sat quietly next to Violet, as she interacted with her- our friends. As much as they assured me that I was just as included as her, I’d never really felt that way. I wasn’t like her. I didn’t know what to say, what to do? Always feeling a little bit lost when the group was together, like I was one step behind, too busy analyzing everyone to add my own input into conversations. Sometimes it felt like they only put up with me because I was Violet’s twin, and not nearly as breakable as her.

I was good with schoolwork and okay with challenges, at least good enough to hold my own and take minimal injuries; and my joints are stronger than hers, not popping and breaking under pressure. Perks of being a fraternal twin I guess. Our DNA isn’t identical. No, something else in me feels broken. Something deeper. More substantial. Something I never talked about with anyone, ever.

Violet has asked before, in my moments of weakness, when everything is too much and I can’t hide. But I always am able to reign it back in then, hide it all behind a smile and recite lines I know will appease her worry. After all, the mask I wear protects me, especially growing up in a family where weakness isn’t tolerated. Even Dad, who saw straight through me. He expected me to reign it in too. Taught me in his own ways how to know what to say, how to make people look away, how to breathe when it was too much. Yet he still expected me to conform, to act like everything was okay. Like I wasn’t broken and weak minded.

I was a good actress at least. Everyone just thought I was quiet and reserved. And they never looked too hard at me, letting me fall into the background. I preferred it that way, it was much easier.

Everyone, except Ridoc Gamlyn, of course. He was always right there. In my space, but somehow, I never minded it. Maybe because with Ridoc, it didn’t matter what I said, he just accepted it. When I missed an unwritten social rule, he just smiled and responded, somehow getting what I was trying to say instead of harping on how I said it. He was annoying at times, always a bit loud, but he could say or do whatever he felt like with no reservations, easily breaking through my walls like no other could. Not even my own sister. I was honestly a bit jealous.

Ridoc wouldn’t let me fade either, prodding me to talk with him while the others were occupied in their own conversations. His voice usually quieter in those moments when he was trying to get me to reconnect, asking the oddest questions about whatever I was working on. It worked though, making my mind settle as I answered whatever he’d asked me, the casual back and forth grounding me, easing my anxiety over messing up.

He could see me. Really see me, like nobody ever had. It didn’t take me long to understand though, as I quickly became interested in trying to figure him out. Nobody really saw him either. Seeing what he wanted them to see. The loud, boisterous, sexually overconfident man he let everyone see wasn’t all of him. He didn’t let them see his worry over schoolwork, or over whatever current obstacle we were being thrown as new riders (currently the gauntlet) or his disappointment when a night of fun never became anything more, even if his conquest came back, it was never more than for another round. It was such a carefully crafted act that nobody thought to ask questions, nobody seeing that there was even an act to catch.

Nobody could see. But I could. And he knew I could, giving me a knowing smile in his moments of weakness, but I never knew what to say to make it better. I don’t really think he wanted any sympathy, hence the mask that mirrored my own. He interested me though, so completely different than the others. Even though that’s what he wanted, I could never truly look away. Not when he’d become my biggest source of safety in this death college.

Always pushing me on the mat, giving me pointers on how to improve. Walking with me when I needed a moment, my body feeling restless. Talk about my books, even the smutty ones, maybe especially the smutty ones. He’d grin and let me talk for hours, sitting on his bed in the men’s dormitory as we talked quietly. He’d glare at any of the other men who looked at us too long, daring them to say something. To make one move towards me. None ever did. And he always listened, asking questions that actually made me think, or that would lead me to another tangent.

Ridoc Gamlyn was an enigma I could barely understand, so I too hung around. Maybe it was the same for him. Maybe we were both just trying to figure the other out, never quite getting there. Never quite understanding. But accepting. Always accepting.

“I think, maybe you could bounce back and forth up the chimney. Your joints aren’t as weak as Violet’s so if you get enough speed and momentum…” He trailed off, as he watched me nudge my sausage across my plate. “Y/N?”

I met his warm brown eyes for a moment before my eyes quickly returned to my plate, torturing my sausage again. “I get what you’re saying. It’s worth a try.” It was presentation day, and this was my last try after all. Violet had told me her plan, but it wouldn’t work for me. If both of us pushed the rules like that, then one of us would definitely be disqualified. It was her plan, so I told her I’d already found another way. Lied through my teeth, but she’d let it go so it must’ve been convincing enough.

“C’mon, you’ll make it.” He assured, like there was no possibility I wouldn’t. “After all, my best friend isn’t a weakling.”

The twisting in my gut wasn’t unfamiliar, it happened every time he mentioned us as being friends. Why? I wasn’t quite sure, and it was one of the few things I refused to ruminate on. I refused any negative emotion when it came to Ridoc, too afraid to let anything take hold and then let the emotions push away my only solace in this place.

“Yeah.” I sighed. Then forced a smile as I met his gaze again, holding it this time. “Just want it to be over with.”

He smiled, moving some hair out of my face, the annoying strand of hair that always refused to stay in my crown of braids. “I know you do. And you’re gonna kick ass, and then in two days, we’re gonna get dragons and be certified badasses.” He sent me a big grin and I sighed, looking away to hide the smile blooming on my lips. I speared the sausage on my fork and plopped it in my mouth, finishing my breakfast.

“Yeah, yeah. Can’t get rid of me that easy.” I joked and with a quick glance from the corner of my gaze I saw his smile widen.

“Exactly Sorrengail. You’re stuck with me. Forever.” I laughed, before standing, Ridoc quickly following me. “Besides, I haven’t heard about the end of that dark romance you’ve been reading. It’s just started getting good. And I won’t have the patience to read it myself if you go and die on me.”

“Glad to see I have some use.” I snorted at him, my body relaxing the moment we’d gotten to the hall. The noise of the cafeteria fading the further we got from it. Finally, I could actually hear myself think now.

“Oh don’t be like that! You’re smarter than Violet, and that’s saying something.” He said and I rolled my eyes.

“No, I just watch more than she does. It’s easier to put things together when I don’t have to worry about holding a conversation at the same time.” I countered and he chuckled, pinching my side and making me squirm away. I still giggled against my will though. “Plus the photographic memory helps.” I snorted out another laugh when he poked me again. “Stop that!”

“Okay. Okay.” He relented, giving me a goofy grin and shoving his hands in his pockets. I knew that was the only way he’d be able to not touch me as he tried to honor my wishes. Ridoc never really could seem to keep his hands to himself when he was near me. Especially when he was nervous. “Don’t discount yourself though. You’re brilliant. Own it.”

“Shut it Gamlyn. I’ve got enough to worry about.” I sighed, taking in his expression before bumping his shoulder with my own. “Don’t need to worry about me okay? I won’t die today.”

The anxiety in his eyes faded, replaced with all consuming warmth as I was stuck in his gaze. He opened the door ahead of us, not saying a thing.

Ridoc’s POV

I held the door for her, warmth pulling at me as her gaze never faltered. I believed her, after all, it wasn’t often that she lied to me. In fact, she was usually unabashedly honest with me. A fact I was grateful for. She hid herself from the rest of our friends, her sister, but couldn’t hide from me.

Her brilliant mind fascinated me, she was amazing in her own unique ways. How the others couldn’t see it was beyond me. She was definitely the strongest, and smartest of us. I just wish they could see that, that she could see that, just once. She finally rolled her eyes, moving through the door as her cheeks went pink and my chest swelled with pride.

She was beautiful, in every way, and I'd been hopelessly pining after her since that first night when we’d been assigned to the same squad. When she’d finally met my gaze with those pretty y/e/c eyes of hers, catching me in a trance as she looked through me. Past my confident facade, straight to my core, past all the bullshit I wore like armor. But then she didn’t call me out like most would have, just cocked an eyebrow at me, and looked away. Like it was some secret that she was electing to keep for me.

I’d been practically begging for her attention since, especially after I’d figured out that she was pretending too. That she hid herself, afraid of the inevitable rejection too. But she didn’t play pranks, pretend to be stupid and refuse any feelings too painful to address. No she refused everyone, never letting anybody too close to be able to hurt her. Only letting the rest of our friends close enough to see what she deemed the useful parts of herself, but never close enough for them to really see her. But she let me. And I knew it was because she saw our similarities.

I was broken from my thoughts when we made it to the gauntlet, and fear seized my heart. As quickly as it’d taken over, it was gone because Y/N shoved my shoulder with hers again, sending me a bright smile.

“We’ve got this Ridoc.” It was simple, yet wholly convincing.

“We’ve got this.” I repeated, squeezing my hands into fists in my pockets to keep them still. To keep them from pulling her into my arms, and never letting go.

Y/N’s POV

I made it. I fucking made it! Shock seized me as Ridoc’s bellows rang in my ears, not quite hearing it even though his words echoed through me. His arms were wrapped tightly around me, spinning me around as he held me in a bone crushing grip. He set me back on the ground but didn’t let go, burying his head in my shoulder.

“You made it.” He whispered, and I nodded, tears pricking in the corner of my eyes as emotion flooded through me. Everything was suddenly too much as I hid my face in his chest. Breathe in. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

“I made it.” I whispered back, squeezing him from where my arms were wrapped around his neck.

We made it through presentation as well. Though several of the less savory of our squad couldn’t say the same for themselves. None of the dragons really stood out to me, a hollow feeling in my chest as I walked off the flight field. I won’t be chosen. I knew none of those dragons would choose me, deep in my soul. I didn’t say anything though, not until I was sitting criss-cross with my back leaning on his pillows and headboard as I watched him sharpening his sword, talking about needing to be ready for threshing.

“Did you-“ I paused when he quieted and glanced up at me, “Did you feel any of their approval?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“The dragons?” He asked, putting down the stone in his hand and setting the sword to the side. Damn him, he must’ve noticed my shift in mood, deciding to focus on me completely now. I nodded. He thought a moment, his face shifting into contemplation, a look I couldn’t help but find so handsome. “Not really. There was those greens that crowded your sister. But I was terrified of them. Maybe that brown one, towards the end, that was annoying the others? Rolling all around them. He was funny. But I don’t know, none of them really jumped out at me.”

He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off that brown. I remember following behind him, watching him as he had softly chuckled at the dragons antics. For him to have brought it up again…maybe he was just lying to me, or himself, but he’d definitely had a connection to that dragon. My heart dropped.

He must’ve seen it too because he sighed, before crawling over and wrapping his arms around me as he pulled me into his side, and I leaned my head on his chest. “You are gonna get a dragon tomorrow. I just know it. Maybe your dragon just isn’t sure about you yet.”

“Comforting.” I snorted, voice devoid of emotion.

“Look, I know I haven’t convinced you, and you’ll be thinking some awful things about yourself now.” He paused, sighing and looking unsure of himself as he tried to find the right words to soothe me. Failing, but he’s cute, trying like that. “Just trust that I know, more than I’ve known anything that you will get a dragon tomorrow. If any of us deserves one, it’s you.”

The raw honesty in his voice made my heart race, and despite myself, his words gave me an inkling of hope. Hope that he was right. That there really was a dragon out there who could accept me, despite my shortcomings. Hope that a dragon would find me worthy.

“Thanks Ridoc.” I mumbled, and hoped that he’d hold me just a little longer as I worked to pull myself back together.

He did.

Ridoc’s POV

I wandered the woods, my mind occupied with Y/N and her show of weakness last night. She never let the facade fall that completely before, she was scared. More scared than she’d been for the gauntlet. Afraid a dragon wouldn’t want her. I frowned as I hid behind a tree as a red passed by. I knew that one wasn’t mine, but luckily it either hadn’t noticed me or decided to spare me instead.

I’d felt a tug all afternoon as I wandered the forest, coaxing me further and further inwards, where I knew that brown was waiting. I’d meant what I said last night, it’d only been once I’d left my friends that I felt the tug. But Y/N had caught what I hadn’t last night, in that way that only she does, already knowing the brown had intended on choosing me.

I finally started moving again, lost thinking about Y/N. Too lost to notice the forest shifting in front of me, until a deep male voice rang through my head, ‘Oh come on! You didn’t even notice me!”

I jumped back two feet, suddenly seeing two large golden eyes staring at me from a large brown swordtail that was hanging from a particularly large tree. A tree that still looked like it was about to buckle under the weight of him.

“S-sorry.” I stuttered out.

The brown jumped from the tree, landing on the ground and sending me staggering from the shockwaves. ‘I suppose I’ll forgive you. Only cause you’re so worried about her. Call me Aotrom, I’ll give you my full name later. You’re mine now.’ He sniffed at me as he circled me, before settling in front of me again, looking proud of himself.

“You mean Sorrengail? Y/N?” I specified, remembering Violet was out here too.

The dragon made a sound, that sounded suspiciously like a snort. ‘Who else? Your mate of course.’

My body froze as my mouth fell open in shock. “She’s not! We’re not-“ I shook my head. “She’s my friend.”

He tilted his head, looking confused. ‘Oh? I thought…’ He sounded confused too, thinking, before his face lit up again, tail wagging back and forth. ‘I see! Eve did say she thought you two hadn’t acted on it yet when I shared my memories with her. I guess she’s right!’

My mind was swimming. This-my dragon, Aotrom, was unlike any other dragon we’d learned about. That was for sure. And he thought me and Y/N were mates??? “Who’s Eve?” I finally let the words out and the dragon puffed his chest out as he straightened with obvious pride.

‘My mate of course.’

Y/N POV

I kept a hand over my mouth as an orange slinked by, sniffing the air. I willed my traitorous heart to slow, afraid that the nasty looking dragon would hear my heartbeats and try to eat me. Eventually he slinked out of view, and I let out a small breath as I continued on my way.

I still felt that hollowness. No pull anywhere as I wandered around aimlessly. I’d run into a dozen different dragons now, and felt nothing from any of them.

I silently wondered if Ridoc had found that brown swordtail. I wondered if Rhi and Violet had found theirs too. If Sawyer would finally get his own. If I would be forced to repeat the year as well, and start over next year.

I paused when I heard a rustling in the bushes, but before I could hide, one of the other cadets strode out. It was one that hung by Barlow, not in his inner circle but itching to move his way in and appease the cruel man. He was tall and fit, definitely a foot taller than me. I palmed my daggers as he stared at me, cruel grin forming as he looked me up and down.

“The quiet Sorrengail twin.” He hissed and I glared.

“Won’t earn you any points with Barlow killing me.” By sheer will my voice was strong.

“Oh, but it will weaken her, and Barlow will approve of that if he hasn’t killed her by the end of the day.” My heart raced at his words as I steeled myself for the fight ahead of me. He wasn’t backing down now.

He ran four steps raising his sword and was about to swing when air rushed around me, and then suddenly he was lifted off the ground, a giant scorpion tail sticking out his back and through his chest. With a flick of the tail his body flew behind me.

But I was frozen in fear. Standing in front of me was a dragon, with navy blue scales and bright green eyes narrowed on me, assessing. Waiting for what my response would be. It’s tail moved slowly now, curling around its body, which gave me some hope that this dragon didn’t plan on killing me. Yet at least.

“Thank you.” I whispered, lowering my gaze as my thoughts went wild. There weren’t supposed to be any blues out here today.

‘I came because my mate wished to take a rider, that’s all.’ Her voice was majestic, beautiful and commanding, filling my head and making my eyes snap back to hers. She was talking to me…but that meant… ‘Yes, Strategist, I agree with my mate’s assessment. You are worthy of being mine, despite your worries. He may have been selfish, having chosen his own already, but he had assured me that you would do me proud young warrior. Now, climb on, before I change my mind.’

She chuffed out a puff of air in my face and I chose not to argue and climb atop the small blue dragon. She wasn’t the smallest of the ones we’d seen during presentation, but she definitely wasn’t the largest, I noted as I climbed on top of her.

She grumbled. ‘I am only 21!’ She hissed out the words irritated with my…thoughts. Great she can read my mind. ‘I will grow with time! I’ll be bigger than Aunt Sgaeyl even! Just you watch!’

So don’t mention her size. Noted. Wait, Sgaeyl? Riorson’s dragon???

‘My name is Eventhasil, but you may refer to me as Eve.” Then she was launching into the air not a second after I had thoroughly settled into the seat, ignoring my mental question of her lineage. I gripped her tightly with my thighs, hanging on for dear life. Once she leveled out, not jostling me at all anymore, I was able to actually enjoy the wind flowing through my hair. Joy flooded me and tears welled up again. I was actually chosen.

‘That is a habit we will have to kill with prejudice. Your doubt in yourself is sickening.’ Though her words were harsh, I think that was supposed to be encouraging.

‘What about your mate?’ I asked, changing the subject. ‘What’s he like? Who has he chosen?’ It would be nice to know exactly which cadet I’m now tied to for the rest of my life.

‘He approaches.’ She says simply, her voice going quiet as she speeds up, forcing me to hold tighter as a brown tried to catch up. Were they…racing? ‘Yes, and if Aotrom wins he’ll be insufferable. Hold tight.’ Determination laced her tone as she tightened her movements racing towards the flight field at top speed, easily outflying the brown as she flung her wings out at the last minute, landing quickly. I was nearly flung from my seat with the maneuver, but with luck and my muscles locking, I was able to hold on. The brown landed thirty seconds later, towering over Eve as he snapped at her face playfully. She snapped back at him, narrowly missing his neck as her tail swung behind us.

But then another dragon landed on her other side and the brown lurched forward, growling low in his throat as he eyed the other male, his swordtail curling around Eve protectively.

She, however, sat calmly amidst his display of possessiveness. Almost…bored?

‘Overpossessive male.’ She explained, irritation lacing her tone. ‘Male dragons are known to be volatile towards any potential threats in the first few years of establishing a mate bond. And Aotrom is very…determined to keep me as his.’ An obvious affection was laced in her last words. The other male backed away, submitting to Aotrom’s dominance and claim, eyes and head down as he moved out of range. Only when the male had moved a sufficient distance away and Aotrom relaxed, turning to his mate again did I see his rider. Ridoc. Holy shit! Ridoc!

Happiness bubbled within me. There was no one better to be tied to! Holy shit. And he looked unharmed, thank the gods.

‘Go speak with him.’ Eve somehow sounded…teasing? ‘He’s relieved that Aotrom had told the truth when he told him that you were safe. As if I’d ever let harm come to what’s mine.’ She snorted at the last sentence and I laughed.

‘I’m glad he’s okay too.’ I sent her way as I climbed down.

The moment my feet hit the ground they lifted again, as Ridoc’s arms wrapped around me and swung me around. “We both got dragons! We’re both riders!” His voice was full of joy as he put me on my feet again. “We made it Y/N! We made it!” His hands moved to my cheeks, and I was frozen as euphoria took over his gaze, and then in a split second, his mouth was on mine.

Moving, kissing, me. I slowly moved back holding onto the moment as my heart burst. My crush was kissing me. Tongue slipping into my mouth as he pulled me to him, pine and male and Ridoc taking over my senses completely as I lost myself in him.

This moment was perfection.

And then it was ruined, by Sawyer calling our names, obviously not able to really see us yet. Ridoc jumped back, looking panicked and my heart lurched. Did he not mean to do that? His eyes scanned mine as he backed up.

“Talk later?” He asked, and I froze. He froze too, hands hovering over my waist. “Y/N? Talk later yeah?”

I nodded, words catching in my throat as Eve growled in my mind. But she said nothing.

“Yeah.” I whispered, putting on a smile as our friend greeted us.

~ I'm taking requests as well, just submit them to my inbox and I'll get to them when I have time.

~ Want to be added to the tag list? Just comment or message me! :)

@xadenswhore @littlemissmelodie @jobroho @worldsanna @uneducatedraccoon @nicksolemnlyswears @binksbrewcrew

#fanfic #ridoc x reader #fourth wing #ridoc gamlyn #iron flame #onyx storm #ridoc fourth wing #ridoc and aotrom #ridoc #aotrom #ridoc gamlyn x reader #sorrengail reader

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aliceinborderlandsquidgame · 6 months ago

Text

We meet again | In-ho x Fem!Reader | PT4

Summary: It was only one night for fun, you never thought you would see him again. Even less in a place like this one.

P1 P2 P3 END

Warnings: S2 Spoilers - Canon violence - Pregnant!Reader - Non canon background for In-ho - Use of (Y/N) - Heavy Angst - Protective!In-ho - Panic!Reader - grammar mistakes -

"You must be joking" Were your first words after listening to Gi-hun's plan. "Do you even know how many guards are out there? Or how prepared they are?"

After another round of voting things had ended in a tie. Not much time after it a fight had occurred inside the men bathroom. Gi-hun had said how most likely the ones who voted circles would attack the X group during lights out.

And while it scared you to no end, specially for your dear baby, his plan was still something your mind could not get. If they had all the power to make so many peopel vanish and also kill them off like it was nothing...what chance did they had against them?

In-ho who knew very well how much that plan would fail (even if he was not inside the games) was only worried over you.

Since the talk during the last game he had got protective. He was by your side, making you be behind him and having a protective grio on your arm or hand.

The rest did notice but no one commented a thing, besides it would only make the athmosphere uncomfortable.

Jun-hee was the only one who had asked you during one go to the restroom. She was not judging, her own baby's father was here after all. She was just curious on what was the story of you two. Why you two seemed to be so apart at the start and now were close.

"Its almost a story you would read on a book" Jun-hee said as you cleaned your hands and laughted.

"Barely, it all started as a one night thing. Then I was so stupid that I forgot the pill. We did not see each other for months and now...we are here"

"But he cares. He cares so much. Really I can see it on how he looks at you!! Even before the migle game"

"Yeah...I do care for him too. I want us to get out and try to live together or be a real couple..."

"Well, we may be able to leave but the plan of Seong..."

"Its crazy. We wont make it. I- I cant even help them"

"I cant either, only thing I can do its hide once the lights go off" Jun-hee tried to make you feel better. "Its better like that, we need to think not only for ourselfs but our babys"

"You are right, but Jun-ho wants to help..."

"You are worried for him" She indicated "Thats cute"

"And a pain, I wish he would have said no to that plan"

"Maybe he is thinking in you and the baby. Maybe he wants to leave really badly and sees no other way out"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Once you two returned the place seemed to be under lots of pressure. There was a tension, how some circles would look at Xs and back. It was unnerving and maybe even worse than the games themselfs.

"Can we talk?" In-ho came towards you "Alone" He added seeing Jun-hee besides you who nodded and went with the rest of the group.

In-ho moved so you two were away from everybody.

"Its this about Gi-hun's plan?" You asked and he nodded.

"Yes, it is. You should hide when the lights go off and not participate when we go for the guns" In-ho said in a serious tone. Even if the guards would never (if they liked their lives) put a hand on you unless he said so, the rest of the players were out of his control.

"I know, I cant do much anyways" You responded touching your belly "Why did you end saying yes ? We could win tomorrow ...."

In-ho took a deep breath. The reason were multiple ones. On one part this would be a good chance to get himself and you out from the games. If he did things right. And on other part he did not want to risk on tomorrow voting. Even if during the night Xs fought and lived nothing did for centrain said they would not vote circle next day.

"I believe in him" He lied "I understand its a dangerous move on our part, but I dont trust the others, not for tonight and not for tomorrow's voting"

You wanted to tell him to back off from it. You did not want to lose him in case the plan went wrong. But his next words shattered you.

"And I want you two out of here. Another game would cause you much stress, its not good for you our the baby...the little one has been strong so far but there is nothing like being safe and out of here"

When he said "little one" there was a small soft smile on his face, you could see how his hands wanted to reach and caress your belly once more but he held himself back.

"Hide well, I mean it. I dont trust any of them"

"I will, please dont worry about me"

Impossible. You and that baby are the most precious things to me right now.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

In-ho insisted on staying besides you when the lights went off. Just in case.

He had one hand wrapped around your waist and had pushed your head into his chest. He told you to close your eyes and ignore all of it, that if someone even dared to come near the bed where you two were hide then he would kill them. Of course he did not use these exact words in order not to scare you.

The screams of pain were terrible to hear, In-ho tried to shh you and tell you that it would soon end while also keeping a watchful eye.

Finally it was time, he kissed your cheeck on impulse and told you to not intervene. He went out just as the guards started to get inside the room.

You saw one coming towards him, but before it could even check the infamous chip inside his neck (as Gi-hun had explained earlier) he took them with force and in a clean move ended their life while also taking their gun.

The next was a small exchange of bullets and screams, the guards were finally leaving but one was left behind. Even if you saw them as nothing as monsters...their seemed scared.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

"Stay here, no matter what you hear. Stay here with Jun-hee. It will be safe" He assured you, like he knew more than what he was letting out.

"But what if you- what if something happens to you?" You asked him with tears already falling, not knowing that he would be safe.

It broke his heart to see you like that. So worried over him when there was nothing to be worried about. But he could not tell you, not here.

"Shh, I will be fine. I promise you" After a small pause he added "I promise both of you" His hand resting on your belly.

"In-ho, its time" Gi-hun said softly when he saw the exchange, part of him felt bad for interrumping the sweet moment. And was feeling guilty already, he knew he could not let In-ho die.

"Yes, on it"

"I love you, both of you" In-ho softly said finally leaving.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

The gunshots would be hear from the room, you flinched everytime, worried that one of these was mean for In-ho.

"Breath (Y/N)" Jun-hee reminded you when she saw you starting to panic. "They will be alright"

"Jun-hee...dont tell me things you can guarnate" You whispered hugging her and she just held you there. It was true, she could not be sure if they would make it.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

In his mind this part was supposed to be easy, trick Gi-hun into thinking that he and the rest had died. But it would mean making you believe that he was dead as well.

He pressed his lips on a thin line, worried over you and the baby. His little one. The only good thing was that he would be able to pull you out from the games but-

But you would have to believe that he was indeed dead.

"Take player 344 from the room, bring her to my room and call the Doctor too. Do not harm her" He ordered to one of his most trusted square guards.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Once more the guards entered, pulling everybody to their knees and demanding them to be under control.

You started to tremble not because of the imposed figure of a saqueare guard over you, saying something about you having to go back with them. Your mind was working on In-ho..was he? Was he really?

Jun-hee despite the protest of player 333 went towards you and the guard to try and keep you there saying how you had nothing to do with the attack. But the guard only pointed their gun to her, that broke your somehow dazed state.

"I will go, just let her be"

"No (Y/N)!" Jun-hee tried to go towards you but was held back by Player 333.

"Dont worry Jun-hee" You said giving her a sad smile.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

You had no idea where you were being taken. The guard did not say a word but also kept a slow peace like he was taking care over you.

You two made it a elevator, all black inside. The guard urged you inside and pushed some buttons till it started to move.

The doors opened revealing a dark corridor the guard guided you towards a big black door, he opened it revealing a big screen now turned off and a black couch. But there was another guard, however this was only had his face covered by the black fabric only his eyes were seen.

You took note of a few medical tools and you started to get nervous.

"Stay calm, I was told to check on your health and your baby, please sit here. We can move you to the bed to examine your baby"

Now you were confused, why check your health? What about Jun-hee?

"But there is another woman who-"

"I was only told to check on you. Please" He said tone incredible soft.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

After the examination the Guard (who told you he was a doctor) said that the baby was healthy, but that you needed rest and more food.

Both guards went to leave, but you stopped them.

"W-wait, im not going back?" You asked confused.

"Player 344, you have been eliminated from the games" Was the only response you got and were left alone in the dark room.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

"Sir, player 344 has been examinated and left in your room" The guard said to their Boss who just nodded back.

"I will be there soon"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Hours passed, you were scared. You stayied on the bed, too tired to move, this bed was too confortable too, and after listening to the Doctor's words you imagined this was good for your baby.

Even if you still felt bad.

You had been crying for the last hours, not beliving that In-ho could be dead, no in fact part of you refused to believe it.

And Jun-hee your friend...the one who was in the same desesperated situation as you. You could not believe she was still there...

Outside the door stood In-ho in his Front Man clothes, he was scared of your reaction, would he tell you it was him ? What was he supposed to do ?

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

The doors opened making a sound, you had fallend asleep after crying. One hand on your belly like you were protecting it even in your sleep.

In-ho felt his heart go down and up, the sight was...beautiful in a strange way. Why could things dont be easier? You could wait for him like this everyday, the three of you could live together and he would be such a good father.

His gloved hand went to touch your face, slowly tracing your cheeck. Your tears broke his heart.

Your eyes started to move, and he pushed himself away. Not wanting to scare you.

Once you finally woke up you saw a dark figured, a black mask, you moved away against the wall.

"W-who are you?" You tone was evident, you were scared and confused.

"Im the Front Man, player 344 you have been eliminated from the games and will be sent back"

"What? Wait, does this mean I-"

In-ho held up his hand dont wanting you to continue, things were already too difficult for him.

"Your situation was analyzed and so decided that you wont continue"

"But- there is another woman! Jun-hee, player 222, she needs to be out as well" You exclaimed getting up and going closer to him.

"Player 222 will continue in the games. Thats final"

"B-but why?"

"Should you not be happy for you and your baby?"

"Im, but im not a hearthless person, if I can get out because of my situation then she can too"

In-ho took a deep breath, he could not believe how even now you were thinking in others.

But he that was part of your charm as well...

"Its a final decision, besides you are soon to give birth. That was what the Doctor said, we cant let that happen in here"

Without thinking his gloved hand went to your belly, one more time, he needed to feel it just one more time-

"Dont touch me" You said in grith theeth taking his hand and pushing it away. In all honestly I hurted him more than any pain he had endured before.

"You are a monster, you- You keep the games going and let others die. You are nothing but a piece of shit"

In-ho knew you were nervous, scared, angry and much more. But your words cut deep, his soul breaking.

"You will be send back home soon. I recommend you dont try to talk about this to others. Nothing good will come from it" These were going to be his last words for you when he turned back.

"W-wait, player 001, In-ho...is he"

"Player 001 has been eliminated" Were his final words, he did not turn when he hear your cry, knowing he would not resist going back and comfort you.

No, instead he went away. Blocking your cries. Outside a guard stood still waiting for orders.

"Check on her, make sure she does not hurt herself and that she eats her food tonight. All of it"

A bittersweet goodbye

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Final note: An epilogue will be out !! 💜

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Tags:

@maria-trisha @blueyesuguru @imenekiki @victorie767 @futuristicdefendorfart @heyitsmefall

@love-you-louise @fantasylovestoryme @sleepyycatt @nightdark-dreamdark @lindsay00000 @ourlovesarang @smally97 @zigmasstuff @aleemendoz @the-disaster-in-waiting

@ilovequeen978 @sc4rrc @sylviavf @l4venderia @blueeclipsepaperstudent @annasnape7 @llawlietluv @florgenegrastuff @luv1ze @jspidey5

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I could not tag some of you 😔

#squid game x y/n #squid game imagine #squid game imagines #squid game x reader #in ho x reader

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runningincircl3s · 3 months ago

Text

Untitled Bestfriend!Noah x Reader Series

Part 1 (title coming soon btw! i'm still thinking!)

okay i've finally decided i will be posting this, so it's time to release this from my drafts... remember when i asked about a bestfriend!noah x reader series... well here's the first part!! i don't know exactly when i'll be writing and posting for this story, so there'll be new parts when i feel like it i guess haha

also i added this series onto my taglist if you want to be tagged in future posts :)

warnings: NSFW!! loss of virginity, READER IS 18+, experienced noah x unexperienced reader, p in v sex, fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex (don't do that!), is that it??

You and Noah. Noah and You. Inseparable since you met, where there was one the other wouldn’t be far. You did everything together, there was no one in the world you cared about and trusted more than your best friend Noah. You loved him in a way that was more than just friendship, even more than just romantic, you had the kind of bond with him that people could only dream about. You were his soulmate, and he was yours, but to keep it simple, you just called yourselves best friends.

You had your own friend groups though, you had your group- Sophia, Beth, Miley and Emily. Noah had his- Nick (Ruffilo), Nick (Folio), Matt and Jolly. Your friends had very little to do with Noah and the guys, but the guys all saw you as their little sister, always looking out for you, always protective over you- besides Folio who saw you as his twin, and sharing a birthday may have had something to do with that.

Noah was experienced in every way you weren’t, he had to be. Coming from a complicated background, he knew he had only himself from a young age, until you came along. Your family loved him, he was invited to every family event, every wedding, birthday, every party. Your family would always joke, asking if they would be expecting your boyfriend to come with you, and you would always hit them with the “he’s just my friend!” because he was… right? He got his first job young, saving money for road trips with you once he learned to drive and buying you gifts whenever he would see something that reminded him of you. He moved in with his friends, Ruffilo and Matt, as soon as he could, and you were always welcome at his place whenever you wanted, whether you needed to get away from home for a while or whether you just wanted to see him, you were always welcome to hang out.

However, there were also other ways he was more experienced than you, more than just life in general. He had a reputation for being a little bit of a man whore, for lack of a better word. Despite never having had a long-term girlfriend, you’d always heard whispers and rumours about him. The girls at school would talk about him, about his hookups, about how good he was in bed. You never asked, and he never brought it up, but you’d caught the knowing smirks, the way girls would giggle when he walked by. Yet those girls would never know you were his first kiss, when the two of you were younger and watched a movie, cringing at how a husband and wife kissed. You had asked if he had ever kissed someone before, and to your surprise he said no. You hadn’t either, so you were both curious, and ended up kissing each other, before groaning at how disgusting it was. You had no idea how your best friend Noah Sebastian, who once said he’d never kiss again, had built this kind of reputation.

However, it never bothered you that you were lacking that kind of experience, not until your friends began talking about sex. Sophia was the first to lose her virginity to her long term boyfriend, Miley next with her vacation fling, then Emily with a drunken hookup at a party. This left you and Beth, or at least until Beth sent a random message to your group chat one night, starting with “you’ll never guess what just happened", but she never said who she lost it to.

This left you feeling a little left out. You wanted to do it, and not just because they had. You wanted to know how it felt, if it was really as good as people say. The only issue was that you’ve never had a boyfriend, or any partner, not really. You’d get involved with guys, and you’d really like them until they said how they didn’t like how close you were with Noah.

But you didn’t blame them.

Because right now, you and Noah were sprawled out on his couch, your legs resting in his lap. He had noticed there’s been something on your mind all day, all week even, because he can always tell. You were quieter, not laughing when he made a funny comment. And right now, you were chewing on your lip, staring at the TV screen but not quite watching the movie.

Noah shifted beneath you, letting out a dramatic sigh before tapping his fingers against your shin.

“Alright, spit it out,” he said, not even looking at you. “You’ve been chewing on your lip so hard I’m surprised it's still there.”

You blinked, snapping out of your thoughts.

“Huh?”

“Whatever’s been on your mind all night. You suck at hiding things from me, you know that.” He finally turned to look at you, brows raised. “So, what’s up? You flunk a test? Accidentally shoplifted again? New crush?… Had your first wet dream or something?”

Your face immediately burned, and you kicked at his thigh.

“No, you freak!”

Noah just grinned, clearly pleased with himself for getting a reaction out of you.

“Then what? You’re acting all… I don’t know… Weird?”

You hesitated. Your eyes flickered back to the TV, even though you weren’t watching it. The words were sitting right there on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t push them out.

Noah nudged you again.

“C’mon, just tell me... It’s me.” He said, his voice softer.

That was the thing. It was him. Your best friend. The one person who never judged you for anything, ever. The one person you trusted with your life. If you couldn’t tell him, then who could you tell?

You swallowed, suddenly feeling a little ridiculous.

“Everyone has done it except me.” You muttered, your voice small as you picked at a loose thread on your sweater.

Noah blinked.

“Huh?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands.

“God, don’t make me say it, Noah.”

A beat of silence. Then, his voice dropped lower, amused but curious.

“…Ohh...”

You peeked at him between your fingers, and you watched a slow smirk spread across his face.

“You’re talking about sex.” He nodded.

You groaned again, your face burning up.

“Shut up.”

Noah laughed, leaning his head back against the couch.

“Y'know I was only joking about the wet dream thing, but wow, okay. So, let me guess… Your friends won’t shut up about it, and now you’re all stressed because you’re still a virgin?”

You sighed, letting your hands fall into your lap.

“Kind of. I don’t know. I mean, yeah, they talk about it a lot now... And it’s not like I wanna do it just because they have.” You hesitated, then shrugged. “But I have been thinking about it for a while, and I do wanna do it, I want to know what it's like...”

Noah hummed, tilting his head. He wasn’t teasing anymore. He was watching you carefully, taking in the way you were fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. Then, after a pause…

“You got someone in mind?”

You froze, feeling your stomach flip.

This was the part where you were supposed to laugh it off. This was the part where you should’ve said something like “yeah, Oli Sykes”, or simply “no, not really.”

But you didn’t.

Because you did have someone in mind, and he was sitting right next to you.

You hesitated for a second too long, and Noah caught it. His smirk deepened, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Ohh, so there is someone?”

You huffed, shifting against the couch.

“Maybe.”

Noah grinned, slinging an arm over the back of the couch.

“Lemme guess…” He pretended to think, then snapped his fingers. “Folio?”

Your head snapped toward him.

“What?!”

“I mean, it makes sense,” he said with a shrug, like it was obvious. “You guys always have this kinda tension-”

“We do not!” You gawked at him.

Noah just laughed, shoving your legs off of him.

“Relax, I’m just messing with you.”

You scowled.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, but I’m your idiot,” he shot back, grinning. Then, as if it was an afterthought, he added, “Folio knows what he's doing though, he already popped someone’s cherry.”

“What?! Who?!”

Noah gave you a look.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?”

He blinked. Then, like he’d just realised,

“Oh... Fuck.”

Your stomach twisted.

“Noah.”

He winced, running a hand through his hair.

“Shit. Well. Uh…”

“Noah. Who?”

He groaned.

“Look, I wasn’t supposed to say anything, so just… don’t be weird about it, okay?” He sighed, then muttered, “Beth.”

Your jaw nearly hit the floor.

“Beth?!”

“Shhh!” Noah reached over and clamped a hand over your mouth as if she would hear you, glaring at you. “Jesus, this stays between us, unless you want her to murder me?”

You shoved his hand away, still reeling.

“Beth… and Folio?”

Noah rolled his eyes.

“Yes. Apparently. I found out a few days ago, and he made me swear not to tell anyone because they need to talk about it first or something...” He gave you a pointed look. “So if you tell your little girl gang, I’m dead. You hear me? Dead!"

You barely heard him. You were still processing the fact that Beth, the same Beth who used to pretend to gag at the mention of Folio’s name, had slept with him? No wonder she’d been weird about it all.

Noah watched your face closely, then smirked.

“So, I guess that means Folio’s off the table for you anyway, huh?”

You rolled your eyes.

“He was never on the table, Noah.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, unconvinced. “So, who is it then?”

Your breath hitched.

This was it.

The moment of truth.

Your pulse pounded in your ears as you forced yourself to meet his gaze.

His teasing expression softened slightly, like he could tell you were about to say something important.

You swallowed hard.

“I was wondering, what if it was… You?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Noah blinked.

Then, after a beat,

“Huh?”

Your face burned. You looked away, gripping the hem of your sweater.

“I mean, there's nobody I trust more, nobody I'd feel safer with…I want you to be my first.”

Silence.

Your heart nearly pounded out of your chest.

Then all he said to that was,

“…Oh.”

You’d fucked it. Your entire life. You had ruined the one friendship you never wanted to throw away. He was going to hate you forever. This was it.

However, Noah just blinked, still processing your words. Then, his lips curled into a smirk.

“Me?” he repeated, his voice dripping with amusement.

Your face burned hotter.

“Forget it,” you muttered, moving to sit up. “It was stupid.”

But before you could escape, his hand shot out, catching your wrist.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” His grip was firm but gentle, like he didn’t want you running away just yet. “You want me to take your virginity? You want me to… have sex with you?”

You swallowed hard, refusing to meet his eyes.

“…Maybe.”

Noah let out a low chuckle.

“Damn. Never thought I’d hear that one.” He leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a teasing murmur. “What, you finally realised I am the hottest guy you know?”

You groaned, even though you were glad he wasn’t being weird about it like you feared he would be.

“Noah-“

“Or…” He cut you off, eyes glinting with mischief. “Have you just been thinking about how good I’d be at it? You heard the stories, huh?”

Your breath caught in your throat.

That smug look deepened.

“Ohhh, that’s it, isn’t it?”

“Shut up.” You shoved his shoulder.

He laughed, easily taking the hit.

“Hey, I get it. You don’t wanna waste it on some idiot who doesn’t know what he’s doing, someone who won’t treat you right.” He leaned back, stretching his arms over the couch. “Smart girl, you gotta raise your standards somehow.”

You frowned.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, if I do this, you’re never gonna be able to settle for some mediocre guy after me.” Noah grinned.

“You tell all your hookups that?”

Noah snorted, before looking at you a little more seriously.

“If this is really what you want, I’ll do it. I just don’t want you to… I dunno…”

“Feel weird about it?”

“Yeah,” he swallowed, “It doesn’t have to change anything between us, okay? If you don’t want it to.”

“I don’t.” You shook your head, “I trust you, Noah, I know you’ll take care of me, I know I’ll feel safe, and if I want to stop I know you will.”

Noah felt his heart flutter at your words, his hand resting on your thigh.

“You don’t know what that means to me, sweetheart.”

That damn pet name, the one he would randomly throw out, the one that would make your heart skip a beat.

“So… When do you want to do it?” He asked, a playful glint in his eye before he continued, “Cause y’know, I’m quite a busy guy-”

“Oh, yes, because I’m just going to book an appointment to have sex with my best friend.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. You were so glad he wasn’t making this feel too serious or too daunting, “I’m not doing anything now? Or later tonight?”

“I was gonna go to Jesse’s party,” Noah said, “But this sounds much better.”

You felt yourself blush.

“You gonna tell Jesse you’re busy?”

“Nah, he’ll forget about me by the time he’s had a couple beers.” He smirked, standing up and reaching a hand out to you, “We don’t have to do it right now, but-”

“I want to.” You swallowed, worried you sound too eager, “If you do too?"

He smiled.

“Of course, c’mon.”

Your fingers slid into his, warm and solid, and he tugged you up effortlessly. Your heart was pounding as he led you toward his bedroom, every step making the reality of the situation sink in.

You were really doing this.

With Noah.

Your best friend.

You weren’t sure what you expected to feel when you walked into his room, but it was so normal. The bed was unmade, his hoodie was draped over the chair, and there was an empty water bottle on the nightstand. It was the same place you’d hung out a million times before, except this time, you weren’t just here for a movie night, or to listen to his demos for his new band, Bad Omens.

Noah turned to face you, his expression soft.

"You okay?"

You nodded, but he didn’t seem convinced.

"You can back out," he said gently. "Doesn’t have to happen tonight."

You swallowed hard.

"I know."

Noah studied you for a moment longer before stepping closer, reaching up to brush his fingers over your cheek. His touch was soft, much softer than you expected.

"You still want this?"

"Yeah… I do."

His smirk returned, but there was something different about it now. Something almost possessive as he looked in your eyes.

"Good," he murmured. "Because I want it too."

He shut the door, making sure to lock it just in case, and his eyes softened as he looked at you standing in the middle of his room, looking a little anxious.

"Nervous?" He asked

You swallowed, shifting from foot to foot.

"A little."

"That’s normal, you don’t know what to expect." He smiled, before gesturing to the bed. "Come here."

You obeyed, sitting on the edge, hands placed in your lap. Noah crouched in front of you, hands braced on your thighs, not to push, not to rush, just grounding you.

"You will tell me if you wanna stop at all, yeah? If anything doesn't feel good?"

You nodded, but he raised an eyebrow.

"Say it."

"I’ll tell you if I wanna stop."

Noah gave a satisfied nod.

"Good girl."

A shiver ran through you, but before you could dwell on it, he squeezed your knees.

"Alright, sweetheart, let’s get you comfy."

He stood, peeling his hoodie off over his head, leaving him in just a t-shirt and sweats. It wasn’t a show, just something casual, but your mouth still went dry.

"Your turn.” He prompted, nodding toward you.

Your fingers fumbled at the hem of your sweater. It felt different like this, being undressed for someone. You hesitated, and Noah caught on immediately.

"Here," he murmured, nudging your hands away. "Let me."

His fingers were steady as he pushed your sweater up, slow and careful.

"Arms up, baby."

Your heart skipped a beat at the name, but you obeyed, letting him tug it off and toss it aside. The cool air prickled against your skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat in his gaze as he looked you over, watching as you slowly took off your bra, tossing it down with your sweater and his hoodie.

"Damn.” He muttered under his breath.

Your stomach twisted.

"What?"

His lips quirked up slihgtly.

"Nothing. Just… you’re pretty."

Your face burned, and you looked away, but Noah wasn’t having it. His fingers brushed your jaw, tilting your chin up.

"Don’t get shy on me now, we both know this isn’t the first time I’ve seen you naked."

You swallowed hard, but you nodded. He was right. You and Noah had no shame, you could and would get changed in front of each other and it was never weird, sometimes you’d even go into the bathroom and sit with each other when you were in the bath or shower, just to talk about day. You knew he’d never look at you in a way that would make you feel uncomfortable, and he knew the same about you. The bond you had was truly unbreakable, so you were hoping you weren’t making a mistake here tonight.

"Okay. Lay back for me, sweetheart." Noah said softly.

You did as he asked, heart hammering against your ribs as you stretched out on, laying back his bed. The sheets smelled like him, clean, familiar and safe. There was nowhere else you could ever imagine this happening.

Noah climbed in next to you, leaning on one arm while his other hand trailed lightly over your stomach.

"We’ll go slow, alright? Let’s start easy."

And then, his fingers traced lower.

“No one else has ever touched you like this before?” He asked, although he was certain he knew the answer.

“No.” You shook your head.

“What about… You?” His voice was lower this time, and his fingers moved slowly down, like he had all the time in the world, before they brushed the waistband of your shorts. "Have you ever touched yourself?"

“I’ve tried.” You swallowed, “But I’ve never…”

“Never came?”

You shook your head, feeling your cheeks heat up again.

“Oh, angel,” he pouted, “Should’ve told me sooner.”

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, giving you a look to ask for permission, and once you nodded he slowly slid them down your legs, leaving you in just your panties.

“You still sure about this?”

“Yes, you idiot.” You smirked, fighting back the nerves swirling in your tummy.

“Okay, good.” He smiled, searching your face for a moment before slowly leaning down, capturing your lips with his.

You expected it to feel weird, kissing him, but it didn’t. Nothing had ever felt so right.

His kisses began at your lips as he pawed at your chest, his thumb rolling over your nipple, but then they trailed down, past your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, between your breasts, your stomach…

Until he reached where you were now aching for release, for him.

He kissed over your hip, your upper thighs, but then he stopped, his fingers tracing the edge of your panties as he kneeled between your thighs.

“You’ve seriously never came before?”

“No.” You swallowed, trying to steady your breathing as his thumb brushed down against the damp fabric.

“Mmm, we’ll change that, sweetheart. I promise.”

Your breath hitched as his thumb pressed down a little harder, rubbing up and down over your clothed clit. His head rested on your thigh, looking up at you with a lazy smile, as if he could spend the rest of his life like this.

“Already so wet for me…”

“Noah…” You whined, your hands covering your face after a small whimper escaped your lips.

“Hey, don’t get shy now,” he reached for your arms, moving your hands away from your face, “You wanted this, right… Unless you want me to stop-”

“No.” You said, leaving no room for hesitation.

He smirked, his thumb still rubbing over your clit, in slow, lazy circles. A soft gasp left your lips, your thighs tensing.

"There we go," he murmured, watching you closely. "Feels good, doesn’t it?"

You nodded quickly, biting your lip.

Noah hummed in approval.

"Why don't we make it even better."

With that, he hooked his fingers under the waistband of your underwear and tugged them down, leaving you completely bare beneath him. He had seen you before, but never up this close. His gaze flickered over you, dark and unreadable, before he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your hip.

"Relax for me," he murmured against your skin. "Just let me take care of you, okay?"

His fingers found you again, and this time, there was nothing in the way. For a moment he just looked at you, parting your folds with his fingers, feeling his heart race as he let his thumb ghost over your clit, watching you shiver. He'd be lying if he said he had never thought about this before.

"You’re so soft, baby," he murmured, his voice thick. "And so wet. I barely have to do anything, and you’re already falling apart for me."

Your breath came in short, uneven gasps as he moved, one finger sliding through your slick folds, testing and teasing. Your hips jerked involuntarily, seeking more, and he chuckled softly.

"Easy, sweetheart." His thumb found your clit again, rubbing in slow, lazy circles. "See? That feels good, huh?"

"Y-yeah…"

"You ever touch yourself like this?"

You shook your head, unable to form words. Every time you had touched yourself, it had never felt this good. Nothing has ever felt this good.

His smirk deepened.

"No wonder you never finished. You weren’t doing it right."

You wanted to argue, but the way his fingers were moving, so sure and precise, like he knew exactly what to do, made it impossible to do anything except moan softly.

"Listen to you," he murmured, voice dripping with satisfaction. "So needy. Never heard you make those pretty sounds before."

Your face burned.

"Noah-"

"Shh, just let me hear you, sweetheart."

And then, before you could process it, he slowly slipped a long finger inside you.

Your breath caught, thighs attempting to squeeze shut around his hand.

"Oh-"

"There you go,"* he soothed, pressing a kiss to your lower stomach. "Nice and slow, just like that… Feel good?"

You nodded, biting down on your lip.

He moved carefully, giving you time to adjust, his thumb still working soft, teasing circles over your clit. The mix of sensations already had your toes curling, your back arching off the bed.

"Ohh good girl," he praised, his voice dropping into something lower, something almost possessive, you never thought you’d ever have the chance to see this side of your best friend. "You’re taking me so well."

A whimper slipped from your lips, and Noah groaned softly.

"Fuck, baby, you’re already squeezing me so tight…"

He added another finger, stretching you just a little more, and your whole body tensed.

"You okay?"

You nodded quickly.

"Y-yeah, just-"

"Different?" He finished for you.

"Yeah."

"Mmm. You’re doing so good for me." He pressed another soft kiss to your stomach, his fingers never stopping. "Just let go, sweetheart. I’ve got you."

And then, if it couldn’t get any better, he curled his fingers just right, hitting a spot that had you gasping, gripping his other wrist like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

“Oh my…” Your head was spinning, you felt like you were just going to float away if you let go of his hand.

"That’s it,"* he murmured, his voice rougher now. "Fuck, you feel soo good…"

It was too much, too good, your stomach tightening, your breath coming in quick, desperate gasps.

"Noah, I-"

"I know, baby. Give in to it, let yourself go… Cum for me…"

His thumb pressed down just a little harder, his fingers curling at the same time, and that it was it.

You let out a loud, almost pornographic moan as the pleasure crashed over you, your whole body trembling.

Noah kept moving, slower now as he worked you through your first ever orgasm, his voice soft and soothing.

"Yeah… That’s my girl. So fucking pretty when you cum for me."

You barely registered when he pulled his fingers away, your body still trembling in the aftershocks.

When you finally opened your eyes, he was staring down at you, his pupils blown, his lips parted slightly.

"See?" he murmured, bringing his slick fingers to his lips and sucking them clean, moaning as his gaze locked onto yours. "Told you it'd feel good."

You couldn’t believe what had just happend, or how amazing that had just felt.

But you knew one thing for sure. You’d be chasing that feeling for the rest of your life.

“That was…” You attempted to speak, but you were still catching your breath.

“Good, huh? Still wanna go further?” He asked, and as he stood up from the bed your saw how tight his jeans had gotten.

You swallowed hard, nodding your head.

“Yes, Noah… Please…”

He let out a low breath, shaking his head with a smirk.

"Look at you," he murmured. "So needy now, huh?"

You felt your face heat up, but you didn’t look away. You were past the point of shyness now. You wanted this. You wanted him.

Noah reached down, fingers working to undo his belt, the clinking sound sending a fresh wave of anticipation through you.

"Still sure about this, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice softer now. "You know we don’t have to-"

"No! I want to." You interrupted, surprising even yourself with how sure you sounded.

He studied you for a second, then nodded, undoing his jeans and pushing them down along with his boxers.

Your breath hitched as he kicked them aside and climbed back onto the bed, settling between your legs.

Oh, the rumours were true.

Becuase fuck.

He was big.

Your reaction didn’t go unnoticed.

"We’ll go slow," he assured you, running a hand up your thigh. "I promise."

He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips, his bare skin warm against yours. You melted into him, fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer.

“Can I touch you first?” You asked against his lips, and you felt his smirk, his cock twitching against your leg.

"You wanna touch me, sweetheart?" His voice was lower now, rougher, as he pulled away a little.

You nodded your head

Noah let out a low chuckle, shaking his head slightly.

"Fuck.. yeah, of course you can."

He moved, the two of you swapping positions. He was now half sat half laying on the bed, with you now kneeling between his legs. As you moved, he took off his shirt, revealing all those tattoos you’d catch yourself staring at, and it never went unnoticed by him.

You brought yourself back to reality, noticing his hard cock standing thick and heavy between his legs. You swallowed hard, your heart hammering as you reached out, your fingers wrapping around him hesitantly as your other hand held his thigh.

He sucked in a sharp breath, his head tilting back slightly.

"Oh… Jesus..."

You felt the weight of him in your hand, the warmth, the way he twitched under your touch. You ran your fingers over the length of him, testing, exploring, before stroking him slowly.

"Fuck, that’s it," he groaned, his hips twitching. "Mmm yeah… You’re a natural, baby."*

The praise made heat pool between your legs again. Emboldened, you tightened your grip slightly, stroking him with more confidence, watching the way his muscles tensed.

His jaw clenched, his breath coming in heavier now.

"You keep that up, sweetheart, and I’m not gonna last long…"

You looked up at him, eyes wide and curious.

"Is that bad?"

He let out a strained laugh, his hand moving to cup your face.

"Not bad, just… fuck, I wanna be inside you so bad."

Your stomach flipped at his words, and you swallowed hard before releasing him, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I want that too…”

"Yeah?" His dark eyes locked onto yours.

You nodded.

"Yeah."

A muscle in his jaw twitched as he exhaled slowly, like he was holding onto the last thread of his control.

"Alright…"

He guided you back against the pillows, his lips brushing yours, his voice a soft murmur against your mouth.

"Just relax for me, baby. Let me make you feel good."

He reached down between you, running the tip of his cock through your slick folds, teasing you as it nudged your still sensitive clit.

“Is it gonna hurt?” You asked, your eyes meeting his again.

He hesitated for a moment, he wanted so badly to say no, but he knew there may be some discomfort on your end.

“It’s your first time, so there’ll be a little stretch… It might be uncomfortable, but if it does hurt and you want to stop, tell me. Okay?”

You swallowed, nodding.

"Yeah…"

Noah took his time, his gaze locked onto yours as he slowly began pushing inside. The stretch was unlike anything you’d ever felt before, it had you gasping, fingers tightening in his hair.

"Fuck," he groaned, voice strained. "You’re so fucking tight…"

He paused, giving you time to adjust, his lips trailing soft kisses along your jaw.

"Talk to me, baby. You okay?"

You took a shaky breath, nodding.

"Y-yeah… just feels… different."

He chuckled against your skin.

"I know. Just breathe, sweetheart, I don’t want to hurt you..."

Slowly, he pushed in deeper, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt, fully inside you. A deep groan rumbled in his chest as he stilled, letting you adjust to his size.

"So fucking perfect," he muttered, pressing his forehead against yours as he cupped your cheek in his hand. "You feel so, so good, baby…"

You whimpered, shifting slightly, making your walls squeeze around him, and the movement made him suck in a sharp breath.

"Fuck, don’t do that unless you want me to lose it." He warned.

You giggled breathlessly, but the sound melted into a soft moan as he rocked his hips, just barely, just enough to send sparks of pleasure through you.

It felt good. So fucking good.

"That’s it," he murmured, his voice like honey. "I’ve got you, sweetheart…"

He kept his pace slow at first, his movements deep and unhurried, like he wanted to savour every second, like he wanted you to feel just how much he wanted you. His hands roamed your body, fingers tracing delicate patterns over your skin, his lips pressing soft, lingering kisses along your jaw, your neck, your collarbone.

"You’re so beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with something deeper than lust. "Feel so fucking good…"

His touch was reverent, every movement careful, every thrust making your breath hitch, making your body arch into his. He held you close, your bodies pressed together so tightly it was impossible to tell where you ended and he began.

You sighed his name, your fingers sliding into his hair, nails scratching lightly against his scalp, making him groan softly against your skin. The way he moved, the way he filled you so completely, it was overwhelming in the best way, and it felt so right.

"Noah…"

He lifted his head, his hair falling over his face, his dark eyes locking onto yours, and the look he gave you nearly stole your breath away. Pure adoration, mixed with hunger.

"Yeah?"

"More…" Your voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard you.

Something in him snapped. He reached forward, grabbing a spare pillow and placing it beneath your hips before his grip on your waist tightened, his slow, measured thrusts turning rougher, deeper, hitting that perfect spot inside you that had your whole body trembling, all whilst his hand pushed down, applying pressure on your lower tummy.

"Oh… fuck…" You gasped, clinging to him, your legs wrapping around his waist, feeling yourself unravel beneth him.

"That’s it," he groaned, his jaw clenched, his breath ragged. "You feel that? You’re taking me so fucking well, baby…"

You were a mess beneath him now, your body writhing, desperate for more, needing to cum, needing him to push you over the edge.

"I know, baby, I know…" His voice was strained, his pace faltering as he felt you tightening around him, a sign you were close. "I’m right there with you…"

His thumb found your clit again, circling it just right, and that was it. The coil in your stomach snapped, pleasure crashing over you so hard it had you sobbing his name.

Noah groaned deeply, burying his face against your neck as he followed right after you, his whole body tensing, his grip on you tightening as he spilled inside you. He knew it was safe, he knew you were on the pill, and he always used protection with everyone else, but he knew he wanted to feel you.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, your heavy breathing the only sound in the room. Then, slowly, he pulled out, making you whimper at the loss of contact. He pressed a lingering kiss to your temple before rolling onto his side and pulling you into his arms.

You curled into him, still catching your breath, your face tucked against his chest as his fingers traced lazy circles over your bare back.

"You okay? That wasn’t too much, was it?" He murmured, his voice softer now, still laced with the remnants of pleasure.

You shook your head sleepily, a small, blissful smile tugging at your lips.

"Mmm it was amazing… never felt better…"

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Good… Y’know, I could stay like this forever."

And as you lay there in the quiet, tangled up in each other, you thought… maybe, just maybe, you could too.

Noah let you rest for a few moments, his arms wrapped securely around you, fingers still tracing slow, lazy circles over your back. But then, he shifted, pressing another kiss to your forehead before pulling back slightly.

"C’mon, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice soft but insistent. "We gotta get you up."

You groaned in protest, burrowing deeper against his chest.

"Nooo, too comfy…"

He chuckled, giving your hip a gentle squeeze.

"I know, baby, but we need to clean you up, and you need to pee."

Your brows furrowed as you tilted your head back to look at him.

"Pee?"

"Mhm," he nodded, sitting up and tugging you with him. "It’s important, don’t want you getting a uti."

You blinked at him sleepily, still too blissed out to fully process what he was saying, but you let him pull you to your feet anyway. Your legs wobbled slightly, and Noah steadied you with a smirk.

"Shit, you good?"

"Mmm…" You hummed, leaning against him. "Just… a little sore."

"Yeah? Guess I did a good job then." He smirked.

You swatted weakly at his chest, and he laughed, guiding you toward the bathroom.

Once inside, he sat you down on the toilet, crouching in front of you as he brushed some hair from your face.

"Go ahead, baby. We’ll get you cleaned up after."

You felt your face heat up, but when you hesitated, he gave you a reassuring look.

"It’s just me, sweetheart. Nothing to be embarrassed about."

Taking a deep breath, you did as he said. He gave you your privacy, stepping back to run the water for your bath.

Once you were done, you let him guide you into the warm water, sighing as the heat soothed your sore muscles. Noah slid in behind you, pulling you back against his chest, his arms wrapped securely around you.

For a while, you just sat there, basking in the warmth, in the feel of him holding you. He washed your body, before pressing lazy kisses to your shoulder, his hands idly running over your arms, your stomach, your thighs. This wasn’t the first time you bathed together, and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last. Sometimes the two of you just craved closeness, the warmth of another body.

You could stay here with him forever.

But then…

"Yo, Noah! You home?"

Matt’s voice echoed through the house, and you tensed slightly, eyes widening. Noah let out a small groan.

"Should we go down?" You asked, turning to look at him.

He shrugged.

"Might as well. He’s gonna come looking for me anyway."

Reluctantly, you let him help you out of the bath, your legs still a little shaky. He grabbed a towel, wrapping it around you before drying himself off.

Once you were both dressed, Noah in a pair of sweats and you in his oversized shirt, you made your way downstairs, your body still sore but pleasantly so.

Matt was in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge when he spotted you both. His eyes flicked between you and Noah, then to the shirt you were wearing, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Tell me this is not what it looks like.”

"No, it's not." Noah chuckled, reaching around Matt and into the fridge for a couple water bottles, handing one over to you with a slight smirk.

#i'm going to hell #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian #bad omens fanfic #best friend noah #bestfriend noah #noah sebastian imagine #noahsebastian #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian fanfiction #untitled bestfriend!noah series

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deathbysnakes · 3 months ago

Note

Hi!! I love your work and was wondering if I could request a tuffnut x reader who rides a death gripper dragon reaction please? Thank you if you do it!!

Tuffnut With A Reader Who Rides A Death Gripper

Tuffnut x Reader (Romantic)

Warnings:Love or crush at first sight trope in the oneshot/Swearing/Tuffnut accidentally falls onto the readers chest

Pronouns:He/Him (Tuffnut), You/Your (Reader)

Fluff/Crack/Headcanons + One-shot

Explanation:Tuffnut with a lover/crush who rides a Death Gripper

●/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/●

Headcanons

Love at first sight

Thinks you’re badass, and cool, and awesome, and badass-

He does get scared of it sometimes though, and hides behind you

"Let’s use your dragon to burn down Hiccups hut! It’s the perfect prank!”

He probably will get paralyzed by it at lest once, either by annoying it, or just pure accident

Please take him on flights with it. Yeah, he has his own dragon, but he wants to rub it in is sisters face that he has a lover with a deadly badass dragon get away from his sister sometimes

Will try to use your dragon as an intimidation tactic when simply trying to get what he wants or when running into dragon hunters, and it works on Snotlout and maybe Fishlegs if he doesn’t know you that well

Ruffnut might also try to use your dragon as a intimidation tactic, but Tuffnut gets jealous and shuts it down quickly

He thinks your dragon is adorable too, especially sense Death Grippers are based of bloodhounds, aka dogs (and other animals too). Might try to pet it

This can end in two ways, your dragon and Tuffnut become best friends, or your dragon tolerates Tuffnut

One-shot

Tuffnut raced to the arena, tailing his sister. "No fair! When we got out the door you tripped me!” Tuffnut shouted. "You did that to me yesterday!” Ruffnut shouted back. Barf and Belch flew over the twins, earning offended gasps and groans from the two. "That’s cheating! This race is supposed to be on the ground!” Tuffnut called out, but the two headed dragon was already in the arena. This has been a habit of theirs for the last few days, they were trying to find out who’s the faster twin, but so far, none of them have won, because they keep cheating. They were racing especially fast today because a new dragon rider was being added to the group. Tuffnut was catching up to Ruffnut as they were about to enter the arena, but then she suddenly grabbed sand out of her pocket and threw it over her shoulder. “Pocket sand!” She shouted, as the sand hit Tuffnut’s eyes. “Ow, ow, ow!” Tuffnut stumbled into the arena and fell straight on his face. He heard Ruffnut and Snotlout laughing and a faint “Oo...” from Hiccup. "Cheater! She cheated! You all saw that right?!” Tuffnut exclaimed, standing up and whipping sand away from his eyes. "That means, I am still the fastest nu…” Tuffnut’s voice faded out as his eyes landed on the new dragon rider next to their deadly Death Gripper, you. "Accept it! I’m the fastest twin, and the smartest~” Ruffnut’s voice was background sound to Tuffnut right now, his eyes were stuck on you and your awesome Death Gripper. He snapped out of his haze when a fist connected with his shoulder. “Tuff! Did that tumble give you brain damage?” He could suddenly hear Ruffnut’s voice again. "What?! No! I have a very thick skull!” Tuffnut jumped back a bit. "Clearly…" Astrid mumbled loud enough for Tuffnut to hear, but Tuffnut decided to ignore her. Tuffnut strode stumbled up to you, trying to seem confident and charming. "Hey, I’m Tuffnut, I run this place." “Wha- no you don’t!” Hiccup yelped. "Yeah, that’s Hiccup, my jealous side kick." Tuffnut jumped a bit when your Death Gripper clicked at him. Hiccup pinched the bridge between his eyes. "Okay, first off, no one runs this place, we work as a team, second off, I am not your jealous side kick." Tuffnut was tugged away from you by Hiccup, but his eyes remained on you. "Everyone, this is [Name] and their dragon, [Your dragon’s name]. They’re the new addition of the dragon riders, so let’s make them feel welcome, okay?” "[Name]…” Tuffnut whispered to himself. Throughout the training, Tuffnut’s eyes remained on you, and he kept trying to start conversations with you, but would either get interrupted, fumble with his words, or you couldn’t hear him. At the end of the training session, Ruffnut was looking at him smugly, leaning against a wall. "Soo…the new dragon rider, huh?” Tuffnut looked down at his feet, his gaze breaking apart from you the first time. "What about them?" Ruffnut delivered a slap to his back, making Tuff yell slightly. "Go ask [preferred pronouns] out dummy!" Before Tuffnut could get a word out, his face collided with your chest, your Death Gripper hissed in disapproval, its tail standing up, making him immediately step back, his face redder and warmer than monstrous nightmare flames. "Oh! I am so sorry! That was my sister! My sister made me do that!” Tuffnut looked behind him, but Ruffnut was no longer there. Tuffnut slowly turned back to you. "So, uh- sorry about lying to you earlier, w-wanna go out?”

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crescenthistory · 9 months ago

Note

I saw that you wanted to write the girlies into your fics more often, so I wanted to make a request 8) Can I request a reader x Regulus where reader is crushing BAD on Reggie, and the girlies take it upon themselves to try and do a little matchmaking? I love your work, and your recent Barty fic was AMAZING btw!!!

the girlies<333 oh how i love them and their silly little adventures, thank you for giving me an excuse to write them babes! and for being soso sweet omg you're an angel

Summary: Dorcas has had it with two of her best friends walking on eggshells around each other to avoid their feelings. So, she puts her best meddlers on the case to end it once and for all, and make the idiots kiss.

Words: 5.7k

Warnings: not proofread, mutual pining believed to be unrequited love, use of y/n, slytherin!fem!reader, background girlies, rosekiller and dorlene, teasing, awkwardness, language, confessions of love, really cliche but makes up for it in sweetness?

Note: who wouldn't be down bad crying at the gym for reggie?

Though you believed being humble was virtuous, you did pride yourself with being a particularly kind person.

Most people in the castle got over well with you, and you had been able to float in and out of all the major friend groups in your year. The self-declared Marauders often ran to hide with you when chased by a consequence in one form or another, and the Hufflepuff quidditch team seemingly adopted you after you cheered them up after their first loss of the season. With all the pressures of Hogwarts and the lives you were soon to embark on afterwards, it was the least you could do to spread some joy, and perhaps receive a bit in return.

At the end of the day, you always came back to your friend group, though – a heap of entangled limbs and snickering, usually found in the same trusted corner of the Slytherin common room. Barty was always in some way or another physically on top of Evan, rarely conventional cuddling positions, while Pandora sat cross-legged on the floor by them, preferably braiding someone’s hair. Dorcas would sit on the table or lounge chair, waving her arms emphatically, often hitting either you or her girlfriend Marlene – the one Gryffindor you all collectively accepted – square in the face, multiple times throughout the night.

Oh, how you loved them.

And if their cheers every time you returned to them from your little friendship tours, as Barty called them, were anything to go by – they loved you too.

Then, there was Regulus Black.

The victim of whatever positions Evan and Barty felt like sitting in, as he always sat at the other end of the sofa they inhabited. The calm and collected of the bunch, except for when Dorcas or Barty said something particularly outlandish he just had to argue with. The multitasker, always with a book in hand, whether for personal enjoyment or study-related, somehow devouring them while catching every word around him. The wittiest one, well-timed remarks hitting people – usually Barty – square in the chest.

The object of all your desires.

Because while you were a kind person, and arguably well-liked, Regulus was the one person you never managed to get quite close to. You were in the same little circle of friends, sure, and had been having friendly conversation and banter for the past 7 years. In theory, you know each other like the backs of your hands, but in practice you had never been alone in a room with him for more than a few minutes before he runs off.

It hurt you once upon a time, wondering what was wrong with you to make him seemingly be repelled from you like oil from water. Over the years though, you realised that is just kind of how Regulus operates. There is some reason behind all the mechanics, but they are not for others to know, just him to sulk over, and you have to accept what you’re given until he’s ready to offer more. Though you tried not to dwell on the fact that it was only you he seemed to avoid to that extent. You had to leave it to him to figure it out, you had decided.

You could live with that, but distance unfortunately made your heart grow fonder. Painfully so.

Regulus Black with his gorgeous black curls that have been so soft to the touch every time you have been close to it during your late nights around the fireplace. Regulus Black with his flowy white shirts and silver rings, gleaming in the glow of Hogwarts’s many candles. Regulus Black with his stupidly beautiful laugh whenever one of his friends could withdraw a real one from him, as if fished from the depths of his chest. Regulus Black with his striking grey eyes that you could get lost in, and have embarrassingly so, many a time. Regulus Black with his–

“Y/N would you quit pining for just a second and listen to me!” Dorcas’s exasperated voice cut through your musings, as you looked up at her with a non quizzical hum, only causing her to groan louder.

You were laying on your bed, almost ready for the night, while Dorcas apparently had tried to get through to you from her own bed mere metres from yours. Your best friend was sat on her bedside, hands on her knees as she looked just about ready to tackle you. Lovingly, of course.

“How’d you know I was even thinking about that?” you challenge, but there is no real fight in you as Dorcas’s gaze has already levelled you.

“You think about much else?”

“Rude.”

“Ruder to call him ‘that’. Put some respect on Reggie’s name.” You rolled your eyes, and had to fight the urge to shush her.

“Oh, don’t worry, he can’t hear us all the way from the boys’ dormitories.” 7 years of friendship had taught her almost too much about you.

“Would you stop trying to read my mind?” You climbed over in her bed to give her the attention she so craved. “It’s a bit intense.”

Dorcas flopped down on her back, sighing at nothing in particular. “You love that I know you so well. And someone ought to read your mind, if you’re not going to speak it.”

“Maybe some things are better left unsaid,” you teased her, but she kept giving you a narrow stare.

“I simply refuse to believe that.”

“Hey, where’s Marls?” you ask, not necessarily because you missed the blonde and pink haired menace you had come to view as a sister. Mostly just to shift the topic at hand. “Wasn't she supposed to stay the night?”

“Yeah, but she’s running an errand for me.”

“An errand?” You quirked a brow at her, looking over at a clock you kept by your bedside. “12 minutes before curfew?”

“Yes,” Dorcas said, giving you a duh look. Stupid you.

As if on cue, Marlene all but kicked down your door with a grin plastered on her face. “How ya doin’ ladies? I brought friends.” In behind her came Pandora and Lily, smiling a bit more softly, though there was a mischievous glint in Lily’s eyes that could only be a poor habit picked up from a certain Gryffindor bunch.

You gave enthusiastic greetings in return, happy to see your friends, but your brow still furrowed at the unexpected guests. A quick glance at Dorcas, whose lips curled into a grin so innocent that it immediately raised suspicions, only deepened your confusion.

“What’s this about?” you asked, voice laced with curiosity but also a growing sense of foreboding. A roomful of your closest friends this late at night – this had all the hallmarks of an ambush.

“Oh, nothing,” Dorcas said, too casually. She was still sprawled on her back, her eyes half-closed, but you didn’t miss the smirk playing on her lips. “We just thought it would be super fun to have a little... chat.”

Pandora was already situated on the floor right in front of you, humming some unfamiliar tune as she twisted her locs absentmindedly, while Lily leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a knowing smile dancing across her face. Marlene, never one for subtlety, was practically bouncing on the spot, barely containing her excitement.

“A chat?” You narrowed your eyes at them, already sensing that you were the centre of whatever this was. “That everyone knows about beforehand except me? I think that's called an intervention.”

Marlene’s grin widened. “You’re smarter than you look.”

“Hey!” You threw a pillow at her, which she easily dodged, cackling. “Okay, seriously girls. What’s going on?”

Lily stepped forward, eyes twinkling with mischief. “We’ve been talking. Well, more like observing.”

“Observing what exactly?” you asked, a sinking feeling creeping into your stomach. You knew these girls, and you knew when they were up to something.

“More like observing who,” Marlene interjected with a wink, as she casually threw herself onto Dorcas’s bed beside you, almost kicking her girlfriend in the face.

Pandora hummed softly, eyes now trained on her chipping purple nailpolish. “It’s just… you’ve been staring at Regulus like a lovesick puppy for years, and he’s been acting all distant and broody in response. Now that we're in our final year, the harmony should be set right before we all leave.”

You sat up straighter. “I have not–”

“Oh, come off it, Y/N.” Dorcas finally sat up, folding her legs beneath her. “You practically melt every time he so much as glances your way, and we’ve all seen the way you fawn over his hair like it’s spun silk. It’s borderline painful.”

Your face flushed, but you tried to play it off with a wave of your hand. “I don’t fawn.”

“You do,” Lily said, with the smallest hint of a smirk. “And Regulus? Merlin, that boy has been pining for you for too long. If you're a lovesick puppy, he's a kicked street dog.”

Your heart stumbled in your chest. “Wait– what?”

Marlene clapped her hands together in delight, as if she had been waiting for this exact moment. “Oh, darling, it’s so obvious. He’s completely smitten. Why do you think he’s always avoiding you? The boy’s terrified he’ll do something stupid like… I don’t know, confess his undying love for you in front of everyone.”

You blinked, completely taken aback. You expected them to give you a get it together speech, not... whatever this is.

“But– but, what, no, he’s always so cold around me. I thought–”

“That’s because he’s a socially inept idiot when it comes to feelings,” Dorcas interjected with a shrug, never one to sugarcoat it, though her voice softened when she took in your confused face. “Look, Regulus has spent his whole life trying to remain in control, but when he's around you he can't. So, if he can’t figure out how to act, he just… doesn’t.”

Lily nodded. “He’s not used to wanting something as much as he wants you.”

"Oh, he would not be happy knowing you're psychoanalysing him like this," you mumbled, mind whirling, to which Marlene and Dorcas just cackled.

Humour at the expense of their friend – what could be better?

You struggled to process this new information. You had left your relationship with Regulus to fate, an open invitation for friendship without pursuing anything more than that. As long as you could admire him from afar, you figured it was enough. The thought that he might have felt the same, but not know how to go about it felt foreign to you. It seemed impossible, and yet, when you thought back, the signs were there. The way his eyes lingered on you just a bit too long when he thought you weren't looking. The way his laughter – rare and beautiful – sounded a little softer, a little more genuine, when you were around. The way he physically ran away from you when you got too close, always some handy excuse ready...

You had chalked it up to his aloofness, to his enigmatic nature. A large part of you, fragile and uncertain, still wanted to.

“I don’t know…” you started, still hesitant. “What if you’re wrong?”

Pandora smiled softly at you, her eyes gentle but firm. “We’re not wrong, Y/N. The stars told me as much. But if your heart needs proof, we’re going to help you get it.”

Your gaze snapped to her, as blood rushed through your head. “Help me… how?”

“That’s the best part!” Marlene all but squealed, bouncing up from the bed and throwing her arm around you. “We’re going to play matchmaker!”

You stared at them, wide-eyed. “What? No! You’re not– no meddling! You’ll make things worse.”

Dorcas just gave you a knowing look, leaning back on her hands. “How can we make things worse if there is nothing at fuck all going on between you right now because you can't get your heads out of your asses?"

"We're friends, Dorcas!"

She sighed, as if you were a child, but gave you a soft look. You think she was trying to be reassuring. "We’re not going to make things worse. We’re going to force you two to face each other, and maybe then you’ll finally stop dancing around your feelings.”

“I don’t–”

“Too late, darling,” Marlene interrupted, her grin wicked. “Plans are already in motion.”

Lily smirked. “We’ve got it all figured out.”

You were about to protest again when Pandora placed a soft hand on your shoulder. “Trust us,” she said, her voice a soothing balm against the rising anxiety in your chest. “This is going to work.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. There was no stopping them, you knew that much. Once this group had an idea in their heads, there was no turning back. Still, the thought of whatever they had planned made your stomach twist in both excitement and dread.

Marlene clapped her hands together once more. “Right, first things first. Tomorrow, we’re going to get you two alone.”

“And then what?”

Dorcas’s grin widened. “Then, you’re going to talk to him.”

"Talk?" you repeated, your voice squeaking slightly.

"Yep," Lily said with a satisfied nod. "Just talk."

"That's the worst plan I've ever heard in my life. Scratch that, not even really a plan. Just the worst I've ever heard."

"You're lashing out 'cause you're scared." Marlene said in a fake-hurt voice, wiping invisible tears from her eyes as Dorcas shoved her.

You swallowed hard, your mind spinning with a hundred different emotions.

“Don’t worry, love," Lily almost cooed at you. "We’ll make sure everything goes perfectly.”

"How?"

"We'll see where the day takes us."

Your eyes flitted between the four of them, realising then that there was no getting out of this, and that you were not sure any of you even knew what this was yet.

You let out a groan as you flopped ceremoniously down on the bed, hiding your face in your eyes.

All girls cheered as they knew that was your sound of defeat, and thus their green flag to go crazy.

The next day, your nerves were buzzing like a poorly-executed Cheering Charm gone wrong. The plan – their plan – was apparently in full swing, and you had absolutely no control over it. In fact, your only plan was to somehow avoid being alone with Regulus Black at all costs.

Despite Dorcas's little lecture to you this morning about just ripping the fucking bandaid off love, gosh, you were entirely not on board anymore. Not that you ever were.

You had tried pleading with them again at breakfast, but they had brushed you off with reassuring pats and sly grins, as if your rising panic was nothing but a trivial detail. And so, here you were, pacing in the common room while the rest of the girls casually lounged, casting side glances at you and whispering like they weren’t blatantly scheming.

“Stop fussing, would you,” Marlene drawled, draped across one of the armchairs, looking far too pleased with herself. “We’ve got it all handled.”

“You’ve got nothing handled,” you hissed, feeling the dread creep up your spine. “You’re going to ruin everything. I mean, what if he freaks out? Or worse – what if he laughs at me?”

Lily, who was lounging with a book in her lap, raised an eyebrow over the top of it. “Y/N, Regulus Black doesn’t laugh at anything that isn’t Junior falling down the stairs. You’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, and even if he does freak out,” Dorcas added, casually tossing an apple in the air, “it’s because he’s an emotionally stunted mess, not because he doesn’t like you.”

Your face burned. “That’s not exactly comforting.”

“Trust us, Y/N. We wouldn’t be doing this if we weren’t sure," Marlene groans. "He likes you, okay? He’s just too much of a brooding, melodramatic git to do anything about it.”

You opened your mouth to protest again, but before you could, Pandora, ever the quiet voice of reason, gave you a soft smile. “It’ll be okay. Just be honest. You might be surprised by what he says.”

For half a second you dwelled on the fact that Pandora was the one everyone went to as their little therapist, and maybe her reassurance is not just speculation, as with the other girls.

You didn't allow that second to drag out, lest your head explode.

The sincerity in her voice almost made you believe them, though. Yet the idea of being locked in a room with Regulus, of all people, and forced to confront the swirling mess of emotions you had been harbouring for years? That was terrifying.

“I don’t know,” you said, backing toward the door in a desperate attempt to flee. “Maybe we should just–"

Dorcas was quicker than she looked. She slid in front of the exit, blocking your escape route with a triumphant grin. “Nope. You’re staying put.”

Before you could make a break for it, Marlene hopped to her feet, suddenly all business. “Right. It’s time. Pandora, Lily, you ready?”

“Ready,” they both said in unison, as if this were a Quidditch match and not the absolute destruction of your sanity.

“Wait– what’s happening?” you asked, voice rising with panic.

“We’re just going to have a little chat with Regulus,” Lily said with a wink, standing up and smoothing her skirt. “Should only take a minute.”

You watched in horror as the three of them sauntered out of the common room, leaving you in a state of rising dread. Dorcas remained blocking the door, arms crossed and a gleam of determination in her eyes.

“You don’t have to do this,” you said, trying one last desperate appeal to her better nature.

“Oh, I really think I do,” she replied with a grin. “Now, be a good sport. You’ll thank me later.”

Dorcas with her quidditch strength, picked you up and carried you to your dormitory despite your many loud protests. She practically shoved you inside, landing awkwardly on the floor, heart pounding in your chest.

“Just… read something and try to relax,” Dorcas called over her shoulder, slamming the door shut behind you. “We’ll handle everything.”

“Dorcas!” you yelped, but she was already gone.

You groaned, pushing yourself up off the floor and onto one of the beds, grabbing a random book from the bedside table in a futile attempt to calm your racing thoughts. It didn’t help.

Not even five minutes later, you heard the faint sound of footsteps outside the door, accompanied by hushed whispers that made your stomach drop.

“Marlene, what are you up to?” you muttered to yourself, sinking lower into the bed. You barely had time to brace yourself before Marlene’s voice echoed from the hallway, far too chipper for the situation.

“Oh, Reggie!” she called out in a sing-song voice that was dripping with false innocence. "I think I saw the creature run in here!"

Your heart immediately stuttered in your chest. No, no, no–

“In behind this... closed door?” came Regulus’s unmistakable voice, low and suspicious. There was always something about his tone, that subtle roughness to his otherwise smooth words, that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

“Ugh, yes, please go fetch it,” Lily chimed in, her tone too casual to be convincing.

There was a beat of silence, and you could practically feel Regulus’s confusion through the door. “In the girls’s dormitory?” His voice was flat, unimpressed. "Can't you guys?"

"No, you're the one who got an Outstanding in Care of Magical Creatures. Please."

They couldn't be serious. What a master plan.

“It's important, Reg,” Pandora added, ever so softly, but with an edge of persistence that could sway anyone who wasn’t keen on questioning her.

There was another pause, and you held your breath. You could picture Regulus now – his sharp, silver eyes narrowing, a flicker of doubt crossing his face, his brain probably piecing together that whatever this was, it wasn’t something he should agree to. Not even Regulus is immune to charm and coercion from his friends though –and he probably couldn’t fathom the idea of Marlene calling for his help if it weren’t truly necessary – and you clearly heard his reluctant sigh through the door.

“Fine,” he muttered, footsteps nearing the door.

You had just enough time to consider how humiliating it would be to try and throw yourself out the window, but alas, Hogwarts windows didn’t accommodate such escapes.

The door creaked open, and there he was.

Standing in the doorway, looking like the very embodiment of a storm in human form, all brooding energy and understated elegance. His black curls were slightly dishevelled, his usual pristine appearance marred just enough by the casual looseness of his shirt collar, which somehow made him look even more effortlessly intimidating.

He looked around the room, eyes landing on you and widening slightly.

"Oh, hey Y/N, have you seen–"

Before you could answer or before he could even finish his sentence – slam. The door shut behind him with a loud click, the lock snapping into place.

Regulus’s head whipped around, his hand immediately going to the doorknob, shaking it lightly. “What the bloody hell?”

You watched in horror as the unmistakable sounds of footsteps retreated down the hallway, followed by Marlene’s faint, gleeful laughter.

“I’ll kill her,” you whispered, more to yourself than anyone.

Regulus sighed deeply, his hand dropping from the door. He turned back to you, jaw tight, a muscle twitching at the corner of his mouth. "That makes two of us," he said, having clearly heard you across the room that felt increasingly smaller.

You laughed lowly, but couldn't quite meet his eyes.

“So… I’m assuming this beast was part of some master plan.”

You nodded, feeling your face heat up. “Yeah, pretty much.”

There was a heavy silence between you, the kind that felt both unbearably awkward and strangely charged. Regulus stayed by the door, leaning against it as though contemplating whether he could somehow break through it with sheer willpower. You, meanwhile, sat on the bed with your heart pounding in your chest like it was trying to escape the mess your friends had created.

Regulus’s eyes flicked to you, his expression guarded but curious. “You don’t… know what this is about, do you?”

You tried to swallow past the sudden lump in your throat, your fingers gripping the edge of the book like it might anchor you to reality. “I have a guess.”

He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest in that way that made him look even more imposing. “And?”

“And,” you echoed, your voice faltering under the weight of what you were about to say, “they seem to think that locking us in a room together is the perfect opportunity for us to, uh… talk.”

Regulus let out a humourless chuckle, shaking his head as he leaned his back fully against the door. “Talk. Of course. That sounds exactly like something Marlene would come up with.”

There was a pause, and his gaze, which had flickered away momentarily, settled on you again. You could swear his eyes softened ever so slightly as they swept over you – taking in the awkward way you sat on the bed, your hands still gripping the book like it was a lifeline. You noticed the way his shoulders, usually squared with tension, seemed to relax just a fraction, as though being here, with you, wasn’t as unbearable as you had feared.

He cleared his throat, clearly struggling to find something to say. “So… what were you reading?”

“Oh, uh…” You squinted at the title, stifling a laughter as you realised what it was. “It’s, um… Hogwarts, A History.”

Regulus’s lips twitched, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Really? You’re reading that?”

Your face heated even more, and you quickly abandoned the book, tossing it to the side. “Okay, no. I was trying to look busy while panicking over the fact that I was about to be locked in a room with you.”

"You knew?"

"I got a small warning after I was thrown in here."

"By Dorcas or Marlene?" he asked, amusement gleaming in his eyes because he knew you meant it literally.

"Dorcas."

He hummed in approval before his brows furrowed, as if registering your whole conversation, and he took a step closer, his usual guarded exterior slipping just a bit. “Why would that make you panic?”

The one question you didn’t have a safe answer for. You could feel your heart racing again, but there was something about the way he looked at you, something soft and searching in his gaze, that made it impossible to retreat.

You swallowed hard. “Because… I don't know. You’re Regulus Black.”

The words came out in a rush, like they explained everything, and to you, they did. Regulus, though, just stared at you, his expression unreadable.

“I don’t understand,” he said quietly, his voice low but noticeably not cold. “Why would my family matter?”

You laughed nervously, standing up from the bed as if that might help calm the chaotic swirl of emotions in your chest. “Not your family. You. Regulus. You’re just... you. You’re smart and brilliant and intimidatingly beautiful and–” You stopped yourself, suddenly horrified by the direction your rant was going. “And it just didn’t seem like you’d ever want to be stuck in a room with me.”

Regulus blinked, his posture stiffening as if your words had physically hit him. For a moment, the usual cool facade he wore cracked, revealing something vulnerable beneath.

“You think I don’t want to be around you?” His voice was barely above a whisper, but there was an edge of disbelief in it.

You looked away, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze. “I mean, yeah. You always seem so distant when I’m around. Like you can’t wait to get away.”

Regulus was silent for a moment, the air between you growing thick with tension. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, quieter. “That’s not because I don’t want to be around you.”

You lifted your eyes to meet his, surprised by the raw honesty in his voice.

He stepped closer, his movements slower, more deliberate, like he was unsure of what he was doing for the first time in his life. “I… avoid you because I don’t know how to be around you without making a fool of myself.”

You blinked, completely thrown by his confession. “What?”

Regulus exhaled a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated with himself. “I’m not good at this – at feelings. At talking, like the girls wanted. You make me feel things I don’t know how to handle. So, I do the only thing I know how to do. I keep my distance.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, a mix of disbelief and hope rising in your throat. “Regulus…”

He met your gaze, and for the first time in the years you had known him, you felt as if you actually saw him in his eyes. The real him.

“I’ve liked you for longer than I care to admit,” he said, his voice low and steady now. “And it scares the hell out of me.”

You felt your breath catch, his words sinking into your chest and settling there, warm and heavy. It was as if the entire world had shifted in that moment, the tension between you now a living, breathing thing, pulsing with the weight of everything left unsaid.

"L– liked me?"

Regulus couldn't do anything but nod.

Without thinking, you closed the distance between you, stepping closer until you were just a breath away from him. You could see the way his chest rose and fell, his eyes flickering down to your lips for the briefest second before he caught himself, jaw tightening.

“Regulus,” you whispered, the world narrowing to just the space between you. “I’ve liked you too. For so long.”

His breath hitched ever so slightly, eyes wild.

He didn’t respond with words – he didn’t have to. In one swift motion, he closed the remaining gap between you, his hands gently cupping your face as he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

The kiss was tentative, as if both of you were still testing the waters of something too fragile to fully comprehend. Regulus’s hands, cool but steady, cradled your face with a gentleness that sent shivers down your spine. The rest of the world faded away – your racing thoughts, your anxieties, the locked door behind you – none of it mattered in that moment.

It was just him. It had always been him.

As the kiss deepened, Regulus’s usual restraint seemed to dissolve, replaced by something raw and urgent. His fingers curled against your skin, one hand suddenly on the small of your back, drawing you closer until there was barely any space left between you. You felt his heart beating against your chest, fast and unsteady, matching the erratic rhythm of your own.

It was everything you had imagined, everything you needed.

You melted into him, lips, body and soul, before you pulled away breathless. The room felt impossibly still around you.

You were both standing there, eyes wide, inches apart, as if neither of you could quite believe what had just happened. Regulus’s lips were still parted, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips and back again, as though he was trying to memorise everything about this moment.

"Do you mean it?" he murmured. You felt his lips brush yours as he spoke.

You didn't need to ask what he meant. Instead you whispered a passionate yes before kissing him again, lingering against him. You could feel him begin to smile against you.

"This is not what I expected to come out of this," you whispered, your voice shaky but filled with a quiet, disbelieving laugh.

Regulus let out a breathless chuckle, one that sounded almost surprised, like he couldn’t quite believe it either. “I can't say I did either.” He paused, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. “But I’m not complaining.”

You smiled, warmth flooding your chest, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there was no uncertainty hanging between you. Just you and Regulus, and the quiet realisation that maybe, just maybe, all those years of longing and misunderstanding had led you exactly where you were meant to be.

You were about to say something – something witty, maybe, to break the tension – but then–

BANG!

The door flew open, slamming against the wall with such force that both you and Regulus jumped apart, your heads whipping toward the entrance just in time to see Marlene, Lily, Dorcas, and Pandora tumble inside, practically tripping over each other in their mad dash to get through the door.

“There they are!” Marlene shouted, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. She pointed dramatically at the two of you, looking like she had just witnessed the Quidditch World Cup. “I told you it would work!”

Lily snorted, pushing past Marlene and raising an eyebrow as she glanced between you and Regulus, both still slightly dishevelled and very much caught in the act. “Honestly, Marlene, you could have given them a few more minutes.”

You groaned, heat rushing to your face as you buried it in your hands. “Were you all just waiting outside the entire time?”

Pandora gave you an apologetic smile, but there was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. It made her look all the more like Evan. “We were just… keeping an eye on things.”

Regulus, who had taken a deliberate step back when the door burst open, gravitated slightly more towards you again as he ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe you lot talked me into this.” For all intents and purposes he looked exasperated – but his lips twitched in amusement.

“Oh, don’t act like you hated it,” Dorcas teased. “You’re welcome for the facilitation by the way.”

“Facilitation?” Regulus repeated, his voice dry as he glanced around the room full of over-enthusiastic matchmakers. “That’s one word for it.”

Marlene was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I have no words for how pleased I am with myself right now.”

"Evidently." You and Dorcas chorused at the same time, causing you both to giggle, though you tried to stifle it.

“You’re all completely insufferable," you said through an ever-growing smile.

“And yet,” Marlene drawled, throwing an arm around Dorcas’s shoulders, “you love us anyway.”

Regulus caught your eye, and despite the absurdity of the situation and the embarrassment of being ambushed by your meddlesome friends, you couldn’t help but laugh. His lips quirked up in that rare, almost-hidden smile he reserved for moments like this.

“Alright, alright,” Lily said, clapping her hands together as if trying to herd a group of first-years. “Now that this mission is accomplished –” she shot a pointed look at you and Regulus, “– we should probably leave them alone.”

Marlene looked like she was about to protest, but Pandora nudged her toward the door. “Give them some space.”

As they filed out, Marlene shot you one last wink over her shoulder. “Don’t worry, I expect all the juicy details later.”

You groaned again, shaking your head as they finally disappeared down the hallway, their laughter echoing faintly behind them. When the door closed with a soft thud, the room seemed impossibly quiet again, save for the soft crackle of the fire in the corner.

You turned back to Regulus, who was watching you with a look that was both amused and affectionate, his usual mask of indifference nowhere to be found. He stepped closer to you, arms circling around your waist.

"Your friends are idiots," he said with no real malice in his tone.

"Yeah, but so are we."

In privacy with you, Regulus's smile widened in a way that made your stomach flip, as he leaned in for another kiss.

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