hiii !! i’m not really sure if you usually add people on the taglist through here but i was hoping i could please be added to your suna happier than ever smau taglist! thank you so much 😭
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Request: None
Requested By: Nobody
Prompt: “You're the hero, huh? I guess that makes me the villain."
Pairing: Tom Riddle x Gryffindor!OC/reader
Summary: The death of The Boy Who Lived requires the need of the Time Turner to change Tom Riddle for the better, saving dozens in the process. A Gryffindor has a different plan in mind, however.
Warnings: mentions of death and murder
A/N: Sorry for the wordcount. Not sorry for the Tom Riddle.
Word Count: 13K+
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He really did it.
Voldemort killed Harry Potter.
The world seemed to have screeched to a halt, everyone staring in disbelief at the dead boy.
The Dark Lord cackled. “I’ve done it! I killed The Boy Who Lived!”
Red flooded my vision. I pulled out my wand, marching forward. Just as I raised it to cast a spell, my arm was grabbed and I was dragged back into the castle. I fought against it, turning to point my wand at whoever had a hold of me.
My eyes widened and I stopped. “Professor McGonagall,” I breathed out quietly.
“Albus only wanted this used if absolutely necessary, but I believe this is the only way,” she said, letting go of me and reaching into her robe.
I blinked at her in confusion. “Professor?”
She pulled out a chain, a tiny sand-timer dangling from the bottom. Looping it around my neck, she looked me in the eyes. “This is a Time Turner, allowing you to travel back in time. You’ll need to return to the year 1945,” she told me. “There is a young man there by the name of Tom Riddle.” She looked back to where the battle had taken place, the sound increasing. “He will become Lord Voldemort.” Her gaze turned back to me, holding a shine of sternness, as well as concern. “You need to go back and change him for the better. It will save many lives.”
“Professor, I can’t-”
“You must, Miss King. There are no other options.”
“But why me, Professor?”
She regarded me for a few moments. “You will know, dear.” Her eyes dropped to the time turner. “The protection charm around that has been taken off, allowing you to go back more than five hours. Take it and turn it backwards fifty times. That should take you back to the right year.”
The noise got louder.
The Headmistress turned to me. “Hurry, dear.”
I nodded, grabbing the time turner. I began to spin it, counting up to fifty. Once done, I looked up, staring at the castle wall in front of me.
It was similar to the wall I had been in front of before, though this wall was intact and clearly newer. It possessed less scratches and burn marks.
Students walked past me and I quickly realized I stood out like a sore thumb.
Muttering a quiet “multicorfors” I waved my wand over my garments, making them look appropriate to the time period. I stuffed my wand back in my robe, looking around.
Where to start?
A group of students walked by me.
I quietly slipped into step a few paces behind them, looking around casually in an attempt to not seem like I was obviously following them.
They unknowingly led me into the Great Hall, sitting down at their tables.
I stopped in the doorway, looking around for the Gryffindor table. Spotting students wearing red ties, I strode over, trying not to seem suspicious. Sitting down, my gaze raked over the room.
The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were behind me, the Slytherin table in front.
I scanned the Slytherin table for anyone that looked suspicious or evil.
Finding nothing out of the ordinary, I frowned, about to pause my search to eat, when my eyes landed on a boy seated amongst the Slytherins.
He was sitting up straight, talking with the people around him. He had a lean figure, dark hair that fell over his forehead on one side and features that looked- at least from where I was sitting- like the perfect blend of soft and hard.
I stared at the boy for a few moments, completely sucked into his demeanor and appearance.
He was talking to the people around him, looking at one of his housemates. His expression shifted slightly and he lifted his eyes, his focus landing almost instantly on me.
“-looking at?”
I whipped my head to the side to face the girl sitting next to me, grateful for the interruption. My cheeks coloured slightly, no matter how much I tried to fight it. “Me? Nothing, I was just-” my eyes, quite without me telling them to, drifted back to the Slytherin table for only a fraction of a second.
They didn’t even have enough time to focus on anything.
“I have an idea…” one of the girls, sitting across from the other, said. She smirked as she stabbed something with her fork.
“What?” I recoiled. “I was just getting used to my surroundings,” I said.
It was technically half true.
“I thought I didn’t recognize you,” the other girl said. “Are you new to Hogwarts?”
I paused. “Yeah.”
“What year are you,” she questioned.
“Seventh year.”
“It is a bit unusual for someone to join Hogwarts so late in their schooling,” the other said.
I cleared my throat. “Well, I was transferred from a different school…..” I trailed off before quickly introducing myself.
“Nice to meet you, King. My name is Margaret,” the girl sitting diagonally from me spoke. She nodded her head to the girl sitting next to me. “This is Joan.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Joan greeted.
I nodded. “The pleasure is mine.”
“Class will be starting soon…” Margaret informed. “Do you have your books?”
I faltered. “Uh…no, I-I don’t.”
“You can borrow ours,” Joan assured. She nodded her head at the brunette across from her. “Margaret and I always sit next to each other. You could sit with one of us, if you wish.”
My eyebrows furrowed. “How many students can sit at a desk?”
“Two.”
I turned my head to Margaret.
She went on. “You can sit with Joan. I will find another seat.”
“Oh! No- I can’t.” I lifted my hands. “I would hate to split you two up.” I shifted my gaze between them. “Is there an empty desk behind you?”
“There is.”
“Then I’ll sit there.” I shrugged. “No worries.”
They gave me confused looks.
I frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“You…” Margaret trailed off.
“You say things in a most unusual way, King,” Joan said.
I pursed my lips.
Oh yeah.
“I… apologize,” I said, though it sounded more like a question.
They smiled.
“Come. Let’s head to class.”
I followed their lead, standing with them.
A lot of other students were rising to their feet as well, presumably also heading to their classes.
My gaze drifted once again to the Slytherin table, seeing the boy already standing, scanning the crowd.
His eyes met mine again.
I quickly snapped my head back towards my classmates, wincing slightly at the pain my neck had received for it. Following their lead, I stubbornly kept my gaze intentional, only allowing it to drift to the halls of the school, so familiar and yet so strange.
“Our first class is Potions,” Margaret informed.
I grimaced behind her back, quickly wiping the expression away when Joan turned around to face me.
“It is taught by Professor Slughorn,” she added.
I nodded, taking in the information.
The girls pushed the door open, stepping through.
“We usually sit here,” Margaret informed, gesturing at a desk in the middle of the room. She turned to me. “Are you certain you would not prefer to sit with one of us?”
I nodded. “Positive. I’ll just sit behind you.”
“Here.” Joan reached into her bag, pulling out a book and handing it to me. “Use this. Margaret and I will share.”
I accepted the thick book, making a mental note of the fact that Potions textbooks seemed to stay about the same size, even decades apart. “Thank you.” Sitting down behind them, I placed the book on the desk before leaning forward. “What page are we on?”
“Three-hundred forty seven,” Margaret whispered back.
I thanked her, turning to the correct page, guessing that the book was probably close to seven hundred pages. Looking up, I noted that this class period was shared with the Slytherin house.
Once everyone was seated, Slughorn started speaking.
“We are picking up from where we left off last time.” His gaze raked across the classroom. “Chapter-” he paused, his eyes landing on me. A confused expression formed on his face.
I did my best to keep sitting tall, my leg bouncing anxiously.
“Do we have a new student?”
All eyes in the classroom turned to face me.
I held my head high, determined to not cower under the weight. I kept my eyes locked onto the man at the front of the class. “Yes, Professor.”
He hummed. “Curious. I was not informed we would be getting a new student.”
“A mere mistake I’m sure, Professor.”
“Most likely. What is your name, then?”
I introduced myself, eyes unintentionally shifting downwards slightly towards the dark haired boy seated at the front of the class.
He, like everyone else, was already looking at me.
I quickly raised my eyes to Professor Slughorn again.
“-sit with Miss King for her first lesson? In case she needs any help?”
The boy turned to his teacher. “Of course, Professor.”
With abject horror, I watched as the boy collected his things, walked towards the back of the classroom, and sat next to me.
I looked back to the front of the class. “Professor, this really isn’t necessary-”
“The Head Boy will willingly assist you if needed, Miss King,” Slughorn said. “If you get along well on your own, should he so choose, he may return to his own seat.”
I held in a sigh. “Yes, Professor.”
“Good.” He turned his back to the class to look at the chalkboard behind him. “As we were talking about in the last class…”
I ran a hand through my hair, reaching for my quill to start to take notes. My hand closed around nothing and I lifted my eyes to look at where my quill was supposed to be, only to get a foul reminder.
I wasn’t where- or rather when- I was supposed to be.
I had no supplies.
Deciding I would rather try to memorize what Slughorn was saying instead of asking the boy next to me for anything, I folded my right arm on the desk in front of me, staring towards the front of the class.
“You might want these, Miss King.”
I turned to the soft noise on my right.
Merlin, even his voice was lovely.
At closer proximity, I could better make out his features, greedily noting that everything- his eyebrows, lips, nose- were perfect.
His dark green eyes were staring down at me, shifting between my own.
Before I stared too long I- with some effort- pulled my gaze away from him to look at the parchment and quill he had slid towards me.
My eyes widened slightly.
“It seems, Miss King…” he trailed off and I could hear the smirk in his voice, “it was good luck that I was sent to sit next to you.”
I lifted my head to look at him.
He was, indeed, smirking. His green eyes shone with kindness and just a hint of mischief.
“Thank you,” I said, grasping the quill and beginning to write as I tried to focus on what Slughorn was saying.
Merlin, that didn’t stop my leg from bouncing, though.
~~~~~~~~~
Class ended and I stood, handing the quill back to the Head Boy.
He looked up at me, still sitting, his gaze dropping to the object.
“Thank you for allowing me to use your quill,” I said, holding my notes at my side.
The boy lifted his gaze to meet my eyes. “You may keep it,” he said as he stood, forcing me to now look up at his tall frame in order to meet his eyes. He slung his bag around his shoulder. “I have more.”
I nodded once. “Thank you.”
The corner of his mouth pulled upwards. “You are welcome, Miss King.”
“Come on, King,” Joan said, grabbing my arm. “Our next class is this way.”
I gave one last look at the Head Boy, nodding my head again to signal a ‘farewell’ and a ‘thank you’ before allowing myself to be led out of the classroom.
~~~~~~~~~~
“This is Transfiguration, taught by Professor Dumbledore.”
I faltered in my steps, stopping in the hallway.
Professor Dumbledore.
It had been so long-
“...you alright, King?”
I blinked back into reality, looking over at Margaret and Joan’s concerned faces. “Uh, sorry.” I offered them a crooked grin. “Go on; what were you saying?”
They talked, but I didn’t listen. As we strode into Transfiguration class, my eyes instantly made their way to the front of the room.
A man was sitting behind a desk. He had long white hair and a very welcome face.
“Professor Dumbledore,” I breathed out, relieved to see someone familiar.
To see the man that had been killed.
“Yes, that’s him,” Joan said.
“Here is the book for this class.” Margaret handed me a textbook, which I accepted, though not really paying attention.
“Thanks,” I managed to get out before sitting in the only open seat; next to a Ravenclaw. My eyes stayed locked onto the Professor as he began teaching.
~~~~~~~~~~
“And this is the Common Room,” Margaret said, leading me through the portrait of the Fat Lady.
I smiled slightly at the familiar face before being pulled in.
The room, though possessing some similarities to the Common Room in my own time, had notable differences.
The arrangements of the furniture were different, the furniture having a far older style than what I was used to.
“It’s very nice,” I said, observing the room.
“Our rooms are up these stairs,” Joan said, gesturing. “Do not attempt to go up the stairs to the boys’ dormitories. They are charmed.”
I nodded. “It was the same way at…” I paused, “my other school.”
Margaret turned to face me. “Where were you before you transferred?”
“Uhh…it was very similar to this, but it was a small school,” I bluffed. “You probably wouldn’t have even heard of it.”
They nodded, satisfied.
I let out a small breath of relief as they began to move around the room, introducing me to my other housemates. I greeted them all, smiling.
“Follow us,” Joan said, walking towards the stairs. “We will see if we can find your room.”
“Did Headmaster Dippet say which dormitory was yours,” Margaret asked.
I froze, eyes wide. “No…no, he didn’t.”
“Oh dear. This may be a problem.”
“I can go ask him,” I said, realizing that I had yet to officially announce my…transference, anyway.
“We will go with you.”
“No!” I shot my hand out before quickly retracting it and lowering my voice. “No, it’s okay. It’s getting late, and I don’t want you out past curfew.”
“But do you know the way,” Margaret questioned.
Assuming Dippet’s office was in the same location Dumbledore’s was, I nodded. “I’m sure I’ll find it.” I began backing up towards the door. “If I’m not back before you girls go to bed, have a goodnight!”
“You as well,” they said, waving.
I turned, exiting the Common Room.
Alright. Time to find Dippet’s office.
I began walking through the castle, making mental notes of the differences and similarities between this Hogwarts and mine. As the duration of my walk lengthened, I began to wonder why I was even doing this.
I didn’t need to sign in to Hogwarts. I didn’t need to take notes in class. And I certainly didn’t need to start forming attachments to young men.
I didn’t have time to be distracted, no matter how gorgeous that distraction happened to be.
I had one job to do.
I had to find Tom Riddle.
I had to kill him.
“Miss King.”
I jumped at the sound of the voice, whipping around. I couldn’t make out who was approaching me, since the castle was getting dark as evening came upon it. Pulling out my wand, I held it out in front of me. “Lumos.”
A light shone at the end of my wand, illuminating the boy that stopped in front of me.
My eyes widened. “Merlin,” I breathed out.
It would be him.
The Head Boy raised an eyebrow, cocking his head. “Curfew has begun, Miss King. I do not wish to take points away from you on your first day, but-”
“I’m sorry,” I interrupted.
He closed his mouth, looking over at me.
I could see a flicker of surprise, and possibly annoyance, in his eyes at being cut off. “I was just on my way to see Headmaster Dippet,” I explained.
The Head Boy’s expression shifted, becoming more curious. “Oh?”
“I realized he never told me which dorm was mine,” I said.
The boy didn’t need to know that I hadn’t actually been accepted into Hogwarts yet.
That would have been very suspicious.
“I see.”
A beat of silence passed between us.
“Then let me escort you. If any other Prefects find you alone, you likely will lose points.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
The Head Boy pulled out his wand and flicked his wrist slightly, a light appearing on the end of it.
My eyes widened. I hadn’t heard him cast ‘lumos’.
The boy gestured and began walking.
I fell into place beside him, increasing the speed of my steps to keep up with his longer strides.
We walked in silence for a few minutes before the boy broke it.
“Why have you transferred to Hogwarts so late in your wizarding career,” he questioned.
“I have a job to do,” I replied without thinking. My eyes widened as soon as the words were out of my mouth.
He turned to look down at me, regarding me curiously. “What is the nature of your job?”
I floundered for a realistic response. “My parents just thought that the school I was previously at wasn’t preparing me well enough for a career.”
“A career?” The boy was silent for a moment. “Most witches your age hope for marriage out of school. There are few who wish to work.”
“Well…” I pursed my lips. “I guess I’m one of the few.”
The boy hummed. “We’re here,” he said. He turned to look at the gargoyle. “Strawberries.”
The gargoyle spun, revealing the staircase.
I looked over at the Slytherin. “Thank you.”
“I’ll wait until you’re done.”
“That’s really not necessary-”
He smirked. “So you keep saying. But as I said, if you want to avoid losing points, I will need to accompany you.”
I looked at him for a few moments before nodding, heading up the stairs. Once at the top I looked around, noting that the office was very similar to Dumbledore’s. “Headmaster Dippet,” I called out.
A man with long white hair and a short white beard and mustache emerged from behind a pile of books. His eyebrows furrowed. “Yes?”
“My name is King, sir,” I said. “I was transferred to Hogwarts today.”
The Headmaster sat down at his desk. “It is very late in the day to be transferring, Miss King.”
I swallowed nervously. “It was a late decision, sir.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Very well.” Pulling out a quill and parchment, he asked “what are your parents’ names, dear?”
I froze, trying to remember the names of my great grandparents. “Edward and Dorothy King, sir.”
He nodded, writing the names down. “What school did you transfer from?”
I listed the first school that came to mind. “Beauxbatons, sir.”
He nodded again, writing some more. “That’s a good school. Why did you transfer?”
I fisted my robe sleeves as my leg began to bounce. “My parents thought I would be more suited here.”
He looked up at me, saying nothing.
I pursed my lips. “Professor?”
Reaching into his desk, he pulled out more papers. “I see you have already been sorted into Gryffindor…”
“Professor Dumbledore, sir,” I said. “He saw me earlier…”
The headmaster hummed. “He made no mention of it to me.”
“Probably just an oversight, sir,” I said quickly, beginning to sweat.
Merlin, who knew trying not to be caught in time travel would be so difficult?
“Probably. Very well, Miss King.” He reached over his desk, handing me a piece of paper. “This is your dormitory room.” He stepped around the desk, leading me back down the stairs. “I will show you to the Common Room-”
“There’s no need for that, Headmaster.”
We both turned to the voice, seeing the Head Boy standing right where I had left him: in the middle of the hallway.
“I already volunteered to take Miss King back.”
“Ah, Mister Riddle,” Dippet said, clearly pleased. “Excellent.”
My eyes widened and I nearly choked on my own saliva. All the blood drained from my face and my heart began to beat erratically in my chest.
Dippet placed his hand on my back and shoved me gently towards the tall boy.
I simply stared up at him, at a complete loss for words.
There was no way-
“Hurry along, Mister Riddle,” Dippet encouraged. “I’m sure Miss King would like to go to bed at a reasonable hour,” he said, smiling before turning back towards his office.
“Goodnight, Headmaster,” the boy- Riddle- said.
“Goodnight, children.”
Once the gargoyle closed, the boy looked down to meet my gaze.
I didn’t think I had moved in the last two minutes.
Let alone breathed.
“Are you ready, Miss King?”
I finally blinked. “Riddle?”
He stared at me, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Yes.”
I opened my mouth again, my voice wavering. “Tom Riddle?”
His eyebrows furrowed further. “Yes.” He looked at me curiously. “Why?”
“I…” I trailed off.
What was there to say?
The silence stretched on and he narrowed his eyes at me.
I blinked at him.
His eyes widened and he leaned back slightly, standing up taller than he had been before. “You’re the hero, huh? I guess that makes me the villain.” He lowered his head, stepping further into my space.
I took an instinctive step backwards. “You should already know you’re the villain,” I muttered, amazed that I was able to speak, let alone say something so bold in my current state.
“You’ve come to kill me,” he whispered. “Tell me…where…exactly…are you from?”
I took another step back.
“If you don’t tell me, I can still get the information,” he insisted darkly.
“Stay out of my head,” I warned, with more strength than I felt.
“Everything alright here?”
Tom and I turned towards the voice, seeing two Prefects standing in the hallway.
Tom turned his body mostly towards them, moving away from my space and returning to his full height. “I was escorting Miss King back to her Common Room. She just got her dormitory direction from Headmaster Dippet,” he explained casually.
My eyes widened in horror at the speed in which he effortlessly swapped personalities.
“Very well,” one of the Prefects said.
“Enjoy your trip,” the other said with a wave as they walked away to continue their routes.
When they were out of sight I broke into a full sprint down the hallway.
I had no plan. My body was moving purely on instinct.
Where could I go that would be safe?
I didn’t have time to think.
He could easily catch up.
Running through the halls, I turned a corner and was promptly whipped backwards. I fell into a chest, trying to rip my arm free of the hand that held it.
Tom’s long fingers and firm hold were making it difficult to break his grip.
“Let go of me!”
Tom lowered his head. “Be quiet.”
“No!” I went to reach for my wand, but Tom’s other hand shot forward, fingers wrapping around my wrist and keeping both of my arms in his hold. I struggled against him, but it was no use.
“Why are you here to kill me,” Tom demanded.
I continued pulling against him.
“Answer me, witch!” His eyes flashed red, his face contorting into one of anger.
I froze, chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. My wrists hurt and my body was tired from fighting against his hold. “Because you’re a monster,” I spat. “Because in my time you’ve killed countless people,” I panted, glaring up at him. “Because I have to stop you.”
Tom said nothing for several moments, studying me closely.
I defiantly met his eyes, knowing he could use Legilimency if he wished. He already knew half of it, anyway.
“Am I the most powerful wizard in your time?”
I glared. “No.”
“Who is,” he demanded, his hold on my wrists tightening.
I lifted my chin, looking at him proudly. “Dumbledore.”
Rage flashed across Tom’s face. “Impossible.”
“It isn’t.” I stared at him, unwavering, even though I felt like my heart was being squeezed. “You’re going to lose…Voldemort.”
He stared at me, his chest rising and falling harder and faster than it had been.
Then he smirked, an aura of confidence washing over him.
“If I am truly going to lose, why did you come back in time to stop me?”
“To try to reduce the number of deaths,” I half-bluffed. “Just because you get defeated in my time doesn’t mean we should let you get away with all those murders.” I glared at him. “I know I’m too late to prevent the deaths of Myrtle, some of the other students around here, and even others, but what I can try to stop, I will.”
“So you’ve come to kill me.” Tom raised an eyebrow. “Did you really think you would be able to?”
“That wasn’t my mission.” My eyes narrowed at him. “It was just the one I chose.” Reeling my leg back, I swung it forward, kicking him in the shin.
He doubled over.
I kneed him in the nose.
He let out a yell as blood began to run down to his chin, his hands loosening enough in surprise that I managed to wiggle one of mine free.
Grabbing my wand as fast as possible, I aimed it at him. “Stupefy!”
He shot backwards, back colliding with the castle wall before he hit the ground.
Walking over and rolling him onto his back, I held my wand as his throat. I looked at him, his unconscious body laying on the floor.
Kill him. Do it.
My grip on my wand tightened. Foolishly, my eyes raked across his softened features.
Even as blood trickled from his nose, I couldn’t help but think the annoying thought that he was breathtaking.
The two sides of my brain fought each other.
Now’s your chance! It would be such a pity to destroy something so beautiful. Avenge all he’s done!
I ground my teeth together, hand shaking as I pointed my wand at him.
Save the world! Save your friends!
Don’t destroy him! Do what you were told to do!
End it!
Do the right thing!
Ending him is the right thing! Stop him from causing harm to others!
Murder is never right! Change him to become a better person!
You can’t change him! He’s too far gone!
You don’t know that!
I let out a yell, jerking my arm towards the wall alongside Riddle.
A flash of light emerged from my wand and struck the stone.
Parts of it crumbled, falling alongside the unconscious boy.
I stared down at him for a few moments, heaving breaths.
I had to go.
He could wake up at any moment.
Giving him one final glance I ran towards the Common Room and didn’t look back.
Announcing the password I rushed in, sprinting up to my dorm. Opening the door as quietly as I could, I sped in, hurrying onto my bed. I sat on it, hugging my knees to my chest as I stared at the door.
I couldn’t afford to sleep.
He might come for me.
~~~~~~~~
I shakily made my way to breakfast the next morning, creeping around every corner to make sure Tom wasn’t there. I sat down at the Gryffindor table, only a few students in the Great Hall this early. Having had no sleep, I decided I would at least get something to eat and try to work through my thoughts.
Now that I hadn’t killed Riddle, what was my next plan?
Should I try again to kill him? He would definitely be watching me, now. He knew that I knew.
Should I try to convert him? Easier said than done. He’s already committed crimes, and I already attacked him.
Merlin, what did I get myself into? Why didn’t I just kill him when I had the chance?
No, I scolded myself. You did the right thing.
Even if it was for selfish, and admittedly, stupid reasons.
Alright. Tom Riddle was alive. I allowed Voldemort to live.
I could only hope I wouldn’t come to regret it.
In my time, the situation couldn’t get much worse anyway, so what the heck? Might as well see where this takes me.
I pushed the eggs on my plate around with my fork, being hungry and yet not possessing an appetite.
“Miss King.”
My head shot up, gaze locking onto a pair of green eyes.
“Riddle,” I greeted coldly, my throat tight. “How’s your nose?”
He glared as he sat down across from me. Ignoring my question, a smirk formed on his face as his gaze scanned me. “Did you sleep in your uniform, King?”
I frowned, mentally cursing myself for forgetting to cast a glamor charm. My clothes were quite wrinkled. “I didn’t sleep, actually.”
“Is that so?” A crooked grin formed on his face. “And why is that?”
I lifted my gaze to meet his eyes. “You’ve killed for less.” I left it at that, knowing he understood the subtext.
He hummed.
I raised an eyebrow. “Why are you here?”
“For information.”
I let go of my fork, letting it clatter slightly as it connected with my plate, and crossed my arms. “About what?”
“My future.” He inclined his head towards me slightly. “You.”
“There’s not much to tell.”
“Oh, I think there is.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “If you came to kill me, why did you not do so last night? I was unconscious…” he trailed off, sitting more upright. “You had the opportunity.”
I regarded him silently.
What was the best way to respond?
I was never very good at figuring out what to say in delicate matters like this.
It was made even worse by the fact that what I said could drastically impact the lives of countless people, myself included.
“I couldn’t,” I finally said.
Tom raised an inquisitive eyebrow and sat up even straighter.
He clearly had not been expecting that.
“And why not?”
I looked towards the doors of the Great Hall to avoid him using Legilimency on me again.
I did not want him using anything to his advantage.
“I somehow managed to convince myself that you were capable of saving.” I allowed myself to look back at him. “That you were worth saving.”
He stared at me silently, keeping his expression very guarded.
“You’re a very bright wizard, Tom,” I said. “Powerful, too. In the right place, you could do great things.”
“I will do great things,” he insisted.
“You will do impressive things,” I corrected. “But they will be evil.” I sat up straighter. “For your own selfish end.”
His eyes briefly flashed red and I saw his face twitch as he tried to control his expression. “It’s natural for me to look out for my own interest,” he said, voice slightly tense.
“At the cost of everyone else?” I rolled my eyes. “How typically Slytherin.”
His eyes narrowed. “And I suppose it’s very Gryffindor to run headfirst into something without actually planning it out.” He scoffed. “Is it also a Gryffindor trait to retreat out of their task so foolishly when their opponent was helpless before them?”
I felt my anger boiling up. “I spared your life!” I whisper-yelled, conscious enough of the few other students in the room. “The noble thing to do.”
“Because you are so focused on being noble, aren’t you?”
“I don’t send giant snakes to do my killing for me, you miserable boy,” I hissed.
“They weren’t worth my time.”
I slammed my hands on the table, pushing myself to my feet in a hurry as I glared daggers down at him. “I should have done the job!”
Riddle stood as well, towering over me as he snarled back. “If you had any brains, you would have!”
The room fell completely silent.
My chest took in air at an irregular rate, and I noticed Riddle’s breathing was also unusual.
We refused to look away from each other.
“Your ‘perfect boy’ image is slipping, Riddle,” I whispered, raising my eyebrow challengingly. “Tread lightly.”
“I was about to give you the same warning.” His eyes narrowed and he leaned closer. “You do not want to make an enemy of me, King.”
I met his eyes, a determination and fury flowing through me. “You were my enemy before I got here.”
Tom’s jaw clenched.
The doors to the Great Hall opened, students beginning to flood in.
Riddle cast me one last glance before turning and making his way over to the Slytherin table.
I let out a relieved breath, plopping back down on the bench. I watched Tom as he sat down, being joined by his housemates.
They all talked animatedly around him, but Tom seemed…distracted.
“Hello, King.”
I turned, seeing Margaret and Joan. “Good morning.” The words sounded tense, bordering on rude, to my own ears.
Margaret followed my previous line of sight. “Looking at the Head Boy again?” A teasing smile formed on her face.
I crossed my arms, scowling. “I resent that.”
“Hopefully she’s studying the enemy.” Joan turned to me. “You had better be coming up with ways to win the House Cup this year,” she remarked. “Slytherin’s won the past several years because of that boy,” she said, nodding towards Tom. “Everyone loves him.”
I looked back over towards the dark haired boy. “How... lovely,” I sneered.
The girls shared a look.
“Did you manage to find your dormitory alright,” Margaret asked. “We never saw you.”
The blood began draining from my face as the memories from last night came back. “Yeah. It’s not with you two, though. By the time I got back from Headmaster Dippet’s office, everyone was already in bed, and I got up early.”
At the sound of a few claps I turned my head to the right to see the Headmaster trying to get everyone’s attention.
I thanked Merlin for the distraction.
“Good morning, students,” he greeted. “Normally I don’t want to interrupt your breakfast, but I believe some point adjustments need to be made.”
My eyebrows furrowed.
“Last night one of the Prefects found Tom Riddle with some injuries,” he began.
All of the color drained from my face and my blood ran cold.
“Our Head Boy was walking back our newest student,” he gestured at me, announcing my name.
I felt faint as all eyes turned to me.
“Riddle has brought it to my attention that when he was walking Miss King back to her Common Room, a troll attacked them, injuring Tom and breaking the wall.”
I was certain the astonishment on my face was evident. Eyes wide and eyebrows to my hairline, I stared at the Headmaster in bewilderment.
“The Head Boy is certain that Miss King chased the troll out of the school while he was indisposed, saving everyone.” Dippet smiled. “For her bravery on her first evening at Hogwarts, saving the Head Boy and the rest of the school, I award Miss King with fifty points.” He began clapping, everyone else following his lead.
I whipped my head around to look at Riddle, the only one besides myself not clapping, meeting his eyes in confusion.
“I needed to give them some reason for my state you so rudely put me in,” a voice in my head said.
The voice was proper, smooth, yet stern, and so clearly Riddle’s.
I ignored the clapping, keeping my focus on the Slytherin. Why didn’t you tell them the truth?
“If I had told them the truth, I would have had to tell them why you attacked me, wouldn’t I? I could have lied, saying you simply lost your temper or felt that I threatened you, but questions about me would arise, wondering what I would have done to warrant such a response from you.” Tom sat up straighter in his seat, arching an eyebrow as he kept his eyes locked onto mine. “You pose no threat to me. You can’t tell anyone what you know without sounding like a deranged lunatic, especially after being here for only a day.”
I struggled to think of an appropriate response.
A hand on my back and a voice right by my ear had my head turning to my left, seeing Joan and Margaret smiling at me.
The connection between Riddle was broken, a sharp twinge in my head causing me to wince slightly.
“Why did you not tell us?” Margaret asked excitedly.
“I…” I trailed off. Looking down at my plate I hesitantly lifted a forkful of eggs into my mouth to buy me some time while I thought. I forced down a gag at the unwanted food. “I didn’t think it was important information,” I offered weakly with a shrug.
“It’s most definitely important,” Margaret insisted. “You saved the Head Boy.”
I grimaced at the thought, looking back down at my plate.
“The entire school,” Joan corrected, eyeing her friend.
Margaret looked over to the dark haired girl. “Well, obviously, but the Head Boy was more immediate.”
I lifted my gaze, keeping my head down, to look at the Slytherin table.
Tom was staring in silence at his own plate. Unlike my shuffling of the food on mine, he simply looked down at his, his arms crossed and resting on the table.
What was he thinking about?
Was he thinking of killing me? Would he decide to kill Dumbledore, since I told him that he was the most powerful wizard in my time? Was he plotting a murder of someone else? Was he actually thinking of changing?
I put my elbow on the table, holding my forehead in my hand.
Merlin, this was too much.
“Are you well, King?”
I turned to the girls. “Just a headache,” I excused.
Technically, one was beginning to form at the number of questions and stress of it all.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Margaret said.
“Hopefully it goes away soon,” Joan remarked. “Potions will be starting in only a little while.”
I groaned. Here I was, supposed to save the Wizarding World, needing to attend class.
As if I needed more problems in my life right now.
Rubbing my forehead, I sat back up and ate a little more.
Did I want it? No.
Was I going to regret not eating? Yes.
Managing to get through half of my breakfast, I stood with everyone, making our way to Potions. As I took my seat, accepting Joan’s book, I made a mental note to buy some textbooks since, apparently, I would be here for a while. Flipping to the page we left on last time, I went to pull out some paper to take notes on, but paused.
I mentally added parchment to my shopping list.
The noise in the room got louder as more students filed in, taking their seats.
At the sense of someone sitting beside me, I turned, eyes widening at the figure there.
Oh, yeah.
I had been so concerned about avoiding Tom Riddle’s possibly murderous intentions I had forgotten that he sat next to me in Potions.
Though, I did recall that he didn’t have to.
“Miss King,” he greeted, passing me more parchment as he kept his eyes toward the front of the class. His gaze remained there, even as he asked “do you still have the quill I gave you?” He finally turned to look at me.
I nodded.
He turned his attention to Professor Slughorn as the man began writing on the board.
My eyebrows furrowed. I leaned towards him slightly. “What are you doing?”
He glanced at me. “Preparing for class.”
I rolled my eyes. “I meant sitting here.”
He smirked. “Only to keep up pretenses, Miss King,” he insisted quietly. “It casts a good image for the Head Boy to assist the newest student.”
I scoffed, sitting upright again and turning back to my own book. My eyes roamed the page, pretending to be interested in the words. “Everything’s all about pretenses with you,” I mumbled.
I didn’t bother looking at his reaction.
~~~~~~~~~
I made my way into Hogsmeade, treading the streets slowly.
Merlin, I really had no idea where I was.
The shops all looked so different from my time.
My heart tugged slightly and I frowned.
My time.
How long was I going to be in this cursed place?
However long it takes to do something about Voldemort, I reasoned with myself.
Letting out a huff, I kept walking, peeking my head into shops to see what they were.
“Looking for something, hero?”
I turned at the sound of the voice, seeing a blond standing on the sidewalk.
Tom Riddle stood slightly in front of him, towering above the boy.
The blond smirked at me.
My eyebrows furrowed, my questioning gaze unintentionally shifting towards Riddle.
Tom nodded his head towards the boy. “This is Avery. He’s one of my friends.”
I gave him a disbelieving look, cocking an eyebrow.
Tom lifted his head slightly, tilting his chin up a little in defiance.
I turned to look at Avery. “I’m not a hero.” I crossed my arms. “Whatever Riddle said, it’s not true.”
Avery raised an eyebrow at the accusation.
Tom’s expression remained stoic, but I could see his features harden slightly.
I sighed. “Look, could you just tell me where to purchase some parchment and textbooks?”
“You don’t know,” Avery asked incredulously.
“I’m not exactly from around here.” My eyes drifted to Tom before turning back to the blond.
Avery chuckled darkly. “You could just look around and find out for yourself. Get more acquainted, you know.”
“That’s what I was doing before you interrupted,” I retorted.
Tom nodded his head towards a store, clasping his hands behind his back. “I believe you’ll find your desired things in there, Miss King.”
“My desired things, huh?” I scoffed, beginning to walk towards the building. “I doubt it.”
~~~~~~~~~
I sat in the library, scratching my head as I stared down at my Transfiguration textbook. I wasn’t focusing on the words, though.
I was trying to figure out how to get through to Riddle.
I didn’t want to seek him out, but I had to do something. I couldn’t just wait around for things to happen on their own.
But how does one get through to a psychopathic murderer?
“You’ve been staring at that same page for ages.”
It took a few moments for me to realize that I was the one being spoken to. Looking up, I locked eyes with my guest. My stomach caught in my throat. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business, Riddle,” I muttered, looking back down at my book.
He sat down across from me. “I understand; Professor Dumbledore is such a dull teacher.”
I lifted my head to look at him, a glare crossing my features. “Professor Dumbledore is an excellent teacher. He’s an excellent mentor and an excellent man.”
Tom sneered. “I would have sooner compared him to a vulture. He’s always watching me.”
“Gee,” I deadpanned at him, “I wonder why that is.”
His eyebrow twitched upwards; in challenge or annoyance, I couldn’t tell. “There’s no evidence of anything I’ve done.”
“Maybe you just seem evil to him.” I crossed my arms. “He’s a good judge of character.”
Tom smirked at me. “Unlike yourself.”
I looked at him in silence for a few moments. “I can judge someone’s character.”
“Perhaps, but you must not be very good at it.” He pulled out a book, flipping to a random page to feign studying. “You left the Dark Lord alive, remember?”
A pang of guilt and rage rushed through me. “I told you why.”
“But I don’t believe it.” He lifted his head to look at me. “Gryffindors are noble, but they’re also headstrong. If they make up their mind to do something, it takes a lot to get them to change their mind. And what could be more noble than avenging the deaths of so many?” He leaned forward. “So. What made you change your mind?”
“You’re so smart.” I leaned forward in my own seat, narrowing my eyes at him. “Figure it out.”
Tom stared at me for a few moments before letting out an incredulous chuckle and sitting upright. “Surely you wouldn’t let something as mundane as physical attraction sway you.”
My face broke into a harsh heat and I leaned back in my seat. Having no response, I simply scoffed and averted my attention to another student searching the shelves for a book.
Tom continued to stare at me in silence.
I could feel my face getting warmer at the attention.
The awkward prolonged quiet wasn’t helping, either.
I took a deep breath, trying to fight off the sweat that had formed a thin layer over my skin. I practically willed my cheeks to lose some of their red color.
Merlin, they rivaled a Weasley’s hair.
Turning my glare towards the Slytherin sitting across from me, I crossed my arms. “You didn’t kill me, either.” I nodded my chin towards him. “I know your secret. I’m a threat to your cause. I could expose you for what you really are.”
“You can’t expose me, remember? No one would believe you.”
“Dumbledore would.”
His confident smirk was replaced by a frown, his eyebrows pulling together. His form tensed, sitting more rigid than before. He looked to the side. “Dumbledore is a fool.” He met my eyes again. “He can’t do anything to me.”
“So you keep saying. But I’m not convinced.”
Tom’s eyes narrowed at me. “Are you trying to get me to kill you?”
“No.” I shrugged one shoulder. “Just trying to figure you out. You said you were keeping me alive for information.”
“A true statement.”
I leaned forward. “Then use Legilimency. Read my mind and find out all you want to know. Then you would have no reason to keep me alive,” I challenged.
Tom’s eyes shifted between my own. “It’s too easy.”
I rolled my eyes, sitting upright again. “Sorry, I didn’t know that taking over the world was a sport to you.”
He regarded me silently.
When the silence stretched on, I looked back down at my textbook. “What are you doing here, anyway? Are you following me or something?”
“Don’t be absurd.”
I glanced up at him before returning my attention to the page in front of me. After rereading the same sentence eight times I huffed, closing the book and staring in annoyance at the cover.
Transfiguration: Third edition.
I chewed on my lip before stuffing the book in my bag and standing, marching out of the library.
~~~~~~~~~
I steeled myself, knocking on the door.
“Come in,” a voice from inside called.
Pushing open the wooden door, I stepped into the office. “Professor Dumbledore?”
“Ah, Miss King.” A small smile appeared on the man’s face.
Merlin, I almost cried at the sight of it.
“Please,” he gestured, “have a seat.”
“Thank you, Professor.” I sat down in the chair facing his desk.
“What can I do for you?”
“Professor, I was wondering…” My leg began to bounce. “I was wondering what you could tell me about… about Tom Riddle.”
Dumbledore’s eyebrows rose. “What would you like to know about Tom?”
“Anything useful.”
Dumbledore cocked an eyebrow at me.
My leg bouncing increased speed. Surely, I could tell Dumbledore what was going on? In my time he was dead anyway, so it wouldn’t have an impact later?
It was flimsy logic, but it was all I had.
I huffed. “Professor, I’m from the future. I was sent back from the year 1998.” Reaching into my robe, I pulled out the time turner to show him.
His expression remained mostly impassive as he simply looked at the object before lifting his gaze to me. “All but two time turners in the world only take the wearer back at a maximum of five hours.”
“This one was altered by the person who sent me back,” I explained, trying to be as vague as possible.
He didn’t need to know everything.
I fisted my altered uniform roughly, twisting the fabric in my hands. “Professor, I was sent here to change the past. To save everyone that Riddle kills. But I’m not a hero.” I let out a humorless chuckle. “I’m starting to wonder if I’m even a Gryffindor.”
“Why would you not belong in Gryffindor?”
I lifted my eyes to meet his. “I had the opportunity to kill Tom Riddle, before his acts got too carried away…but I didn’t. I cowered out of it.”
Dumbledore hummed. “Oftentimes, killing is the easy solution. Especially if Tom becomes as bad as you say. It is simple to end someone that would cause so much harm.” He looked at me meaningfully, with a warm smile and a kind look in his eyes. “Sometimes it takes more bravery to spare a life.”
I bit back tears and nodded. I cleared my throat. “What should I do, Professor? How do I change a killer?” I moved in my seat, sitting on the edge of the chair. “How can I get through to him?”
“I do not know everything about Mister Riddle,” Dumbledore informed. “He grew up in an orphanage. His mother died when he was very young. His father abandoned him.” Dumbledore clasped his hands, resting them on the desk. “There must be a reason that you specifically were sent here, Miss King. Use your judgment. Find your own way.”
I sighed, looking down and nodded. “Thank you, Professor.” I stood and exited the office.
My own way, huh?
~~~~~~~~~
What the frick was my way?
I briefly considered the option of holding my wand to his throat, demanding he fix his mistakes or I’d kill him, but I quickly reasoned that wouldn’t work.
No matter how much I wished it did.
I had been in 1945 for a few weeks, but it felt like I had been here for a number of months.
And I was making no progress.
My grades weren’t even very good, since I had other things on my mind. I had never been a good multitasker.
Merlin, I was seriously doubting Professor McGonagall’s choice in sending me back.
I had no idea what I was doing.
Alright, then. I’d wing it.
I stood from the chair in the Common Room, making my way to the door.
“Curfew starts soon, King,” Joan warned, looking up from her book.
“I know.” Without looking back, I pushed the portrait open and closed it behind me, making my way to the dungeon.
I never liked the dark, and this part of the castle seemed to soak it all up. Thankfully, I could still see. Reaching the door to the Slytherin Common Room I paused.
I didn’t know the password.
And with curfew starting soon, Riddle might not have even been in the Common Room.
I chewed my lip.
Thankfully, the door swung open on its own.
I froze as a figure walked out, not sure if I should be relieved or not. “Avery,” I greeted.
The blond looked up at me, his steps halting. “Hero?” He raised a judgmental eyebrow. “What are you doing at the Slytherin Common Room?”
“Looking for Riddle.”
Avery watched me for a few moments. “He’s inside. He’ll be starting to patrol soon.”
“Can you get him? I need to talk to him.”
Avery thought for a few moments before retreating into his Common Room. He emerged shortly after, Riddle in tow.
Avery walked down the hallway, doing whatever it was he was going to do before he saw me.
Tom closed the door behind him, looking down at me in a manner similar to Avery’s.
It was different, though.
Tom was studying me. Trying to figure me out.
He raised a silent, questioning eyebrow at me.
I suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable in my own skin.
I cleared my throat. “Can we talk?”
His other eyebrow rose in surprise. “I’m going to begin my rounds soon-”
“I know; Avery told me.” I looked up at him. “But I need to either sort this out or go home.”
Tom’s expression shifted ever so slightly. “You would go home? Even if your goal was unaccomplished?”
I shrugged one shoulder. “If I can’t do what I was sent to do, there’s no point in hanging around a time that isn’t mine, is there?”
Tom regarded me silently for a few moments. “No. No, I suppose not.”
I gestured at him. “Especially with you graduating soon, I’m going to lose a lot of contact with you.” I cracked a small smile. “Unless I apply for a job at the same place.” I tilted my head, my smile growing. “But I kind of doubt I’d get it, since I would only have about two months of proof of my existence, so…”
The corners of Tom’s mouth raised slightly. He nodded, looking down the hallway. His gaze drifted back to meet my eyes. “Walk with me.”
I fell into step beside him, needing to jog a little initially to catch up to his long paces. Once I settled into a rhythm that would keep me next to him, I relaxed, turning to look up at his side profile. “Do you like being the Head Boy?”
He turned his head to look at me, a confused expression overtaking his features. “What?”
“You heard me.”
He raised an eyebrow, looking forward again as he turned corners without much thought.
I figured he must have memorized his paths at this point.
“It gives me power, but also responsibility.”
“So, yes and no?”
He looked down at me. “Did you come to talk to me about something as dull as this?”
I shrugged, turning my attention forward as we rounded another corner. “I just wanted to talk to you about anything.”
He kept his expression guarded. “Trying to discover my weaknesses?”
I frowned as I thought for a moment. “Not really.” I looked up at him. “I don’t think your feelings on your Head Boy duties are particularly useful insights into the darkest parts of your mind,” I admitted.
His eyes flickered down to me very briefly before looking ahead again. “Was there anything else?”
I pursed my lips. “I didn’t really have anything in mind.” I looked back towards him. “Just…tell me about yourself.”
A skeptical look overtook Tom’s features as he continued to stare ahead, resolutely not looking at me. “You’re trying to get me to reveal something.”
I could see it behind his eyes, though.
Vulnerability.
“Tom…” I sighed, looking up at him.
He finally looked down at me.
I frowned. “You’re far too cynical. Is it so hard to believe I just want to get to know you?”
Tom raised an eyebrow. “You did try to kill me.”
“And I haven’t for almost a month now,” I reminded.
Tom’s eyes shifted to the floor for a few beats before he looked forward again. “I still don’t trust you.”
“Nor I, you.”
~~~~~~~~~
I tugged at my hair, looking down at my Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook.
“Is something wrong, King?”
I looked up, seeing Tom sit across from me. “My grades are slipping because I’ve been a little…preoccupied.” Pursing my lips, I let out a small huff. “And Defense Against the Dark Arts was never one of my strong suits,” I remarked, gaze returning to my book.
“Well, fortunately it’s my best subject.” Tom stood, moving around the table to sit next to me.
I felt heat creep up my neck at the proximity.
He placed his hands on the table, his robe sleeve brushing mine, looking over at the pages I had flipped open. “What have you been struggling with?”
Merlin, how was anyone supposed to think with Tom that close, let alone focus.
“Uhhh.”
Tom looked down at me, his green eyes peering into mine.
My breathing picked up, chest rising and falling at a faster rate. I studied his face for a few moments, gaze dropping briefly to his lips before quickly averting my eyes to stare down at the textbook.
King, what do you think you’re doing!? Pull yourself together!
I forcibly cleared my throat. “Uhhh,” I repeated, my voice even weaker than it had been. I let out a strained chuckle, holding my head in my hand. “Merlin, Tom.”
“Are you alright, King?”
I looked over at him, only to turn even redder at seeing the smirk on his face.
“Should I take you to the healer?” His eyebrows quirked upward almost mockingly. His features shifted, feigning concern. “I don’t believe that shade of red is normal. Or healthy.”
I glared, the expression holding no actual anger, and swatted him in the arm, looking back to my book. “I hate you.”
He let out a breathy chuckle before pulling the textbook closer to him so he could see it better. Gesturing at it, he looked back at me. “What’s confusing you?”
An affectionate smile graced my features.
I didn’t even have the thought to gasp in horror at the action.
~~~~~~~~
“No, that’s purely a defensive spell.”
I furrowed my eyebrows, scratching down a note as I took a bite of toast.
Tom sat next to me, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice.
“I think some of these spells should be more versatile,” I muttered, finishing writing and sitting upright.
“Unfortunately, we cannot decide.”
I looked up at Tom. “Bummer, really.” I huffed out a sigh. “I guess we just have to focus on what we can control.”
Tom’s gaze dropped slightly.
I could practically see the gears turning in his head.
“Indeed,” he said.
I blinked at him for a few moments before pointing at a sentence in my book. “But, does-”
The sound of the doors in the Great Hall opening brought my attention to them.
I sighed as students flowed in. Looking back to Tom, I frowned. “I wish there was somewhere private we could meet. We aren’t in the same house, so we can’t even both be in the same Common Room.”
Tom hummed. “The library is only available for certain hours, as well.”
I nodded, pursing my lips. “I’m sure we’ll figure something out.” Closing my book, I looked back at Tom as I put the textbook back in my bag. “Thanks for all your help.”
Tom chuckled briefly. “It’s a wonder you made it to seventh year in your time.” He stood from the Gryffindor table, looking down at me. “I can only assume that magic has gotten even more complex in future decades.”
“The style of writing is different.” I sent him a crooked grin. “Less pompous, if you ask me.”
He scoffed. “Less professional, you mean.” He turned around, returning to the Slytherin table.
I smiled at his back for a few moments before returning to my breakfast.
“How are you, King?”
I looked up, seeing Margaret sit across from me. “I’m doing well, how about you?”
She smiled. “I’m ready for the day. Our finals are in only a few weeks, but I feel prepared.”
Groaning, I put my head in my hand. “Don’t remind me. This Defense Against the Dark Arts stuff is killing me.”
“You seem to be doing better in class,” she remarked, pouring herself a cup of pumpkin juice.
I smiled softly, the image of Tom Riddle appearing in my head. Clearing my throat, I looked up at the Gryffindor. “It’s a miracle, Margaret.”
~~~~~~~~~
“I’m ready to go to sleep,” Joan remarked, heading back to the Common Room for the evening.
“It has been a long day,” Margaret agreed, readjusting her grip on the books she held to her chest.
“I’ll probably be up for a little bit,” I admitted, running a hand through my hair with a huff. “I need to do more studying.”
“Miss King.”
The three of us turned to the voice.
I involuntarily smiled at the sight of the Slytherin. Nodding in greeting, I managed to wipe most of the smile away. “Mister Riddle.”
My housemates were looking between us suspiciously.
Tom turned to the two girls. “May I borrow her?”
They exchanged glances before nodding at the Head Boy.
Tom smiled. “Wonderful.”
I looked at the girls and waved. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
They waved back before continuing to head towards the Common Room.
I turned back to Tom, raising an eyebrow and smirking slightly. “Borrow me?”
He smirked back. “It worked, didn’t it?”
I shook my head, chuckling. “What did you need?”
“I wanted to show you something.” He gestured for me to follow him, which I swiftly did.
I didn’t even realize I no longer had trouble trying to match his pace.
“I found somewhere I think we could meet,” he said just quietly enough so that no one but me could hear. “I had read something about it and began to research.” He turned a corner, stopping in front of a wall. He stared up at it. “It’s called ‘The Room of Requirement’.”
My eyes widened.
Of course!
“Brilliant, Tom.” I turned, seeing the familiar door begin forming on the once-blank wall.
Once the door had fully appeared, I walked forward, opening the door and stepping inside.
I paused, looking around.
“Is something wrong?”
My gaze raked the room. “It’s just different from my time.” I chuckled, observing the couch and two chairs surrounding a small table.
A fireplace sat a few paces away, filling the room with warmth. A red rug covered the floor, a bookshelf in the corner of the room.
I chewed on my lip. “I suppose it’s for a different use, though.”
“What do you use the room for in your time?”
The voice was so close I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
I looked over my shoulder, seeing Tom standing behind me. My gaze raked his features. I forced my voice to remain steady. “Practicing spells.” I drew my gaze from him to look around the room again. “It’s usually much more open than this.”
Tom hummed before moving from behind me to stand by the small table. “I thought this would be a good place for us to study,” he remarked casually, running his hand along the back of a chair.
I watched the action before lifting my gaze to meet his eyes.
He met mine at the same time.
“It’s very cozy in here.” I walked towards him, sitting down on the couch. “I might do more sleeping in here than studying.”
Tom sat down next to me. “I will not let you sleep.” He looked over at me. “Not with the end of the semester so close.”
I huffed. “Right.” Sighing, I pulled my school bag off my shoulder, dropping it on the floor next to me as I pulled out my DADA book and set it on the table, turning to the right page. “Now… where were we?”
~~~~~~~~
“Correct.”
I sighed out in relief, leaning back against the familiar couch, running my hands along my face.
“You really are doing quite well,” Tom said from beside me.
I let out a short chuckle. “Only thanks to you.” I dropped my hands to my lap, looking over at the Slytherin. “There’s only one week left until exams.” I scooched forward on the couch so I could better reach the table, looking down at my textbook. “With all of this new information, my brain may explode.”
“I think that is unlikely.”
I chuckled as I turned to look at Tom, only to freeze, my breath catching in my throat.
He was looking down at me, a warm glint in his eyes. A beautiful glow was being cast on part of his face from the fire, contrasting the dim lighting of the rest of the room.
The sounds of the crackling embers filled my ears. The smell of wood flooded my nose.
A warmth overtook me as I looked between Tom’s green eyes.
My heart twinged.
I gasped slightly, looking away. My eyes wide, I held my head in my hands as I tried to calm my breathing.
This can’t be happening.
“King?”
I felt the couch shift as Tom leaned closer to me.
“Are you alright?”
I looked over at him, meeting his concerned eyes. I let out a tiny quiet, albeit strained, laugh. “I’m alright, Tom.” My gaze dropped to his lips, lingering there for far longer than I had intended, getting caught up in mentally tracing their shape.
I briefly wondered how they’d feel.
I groaned, falling sideways on the couch, my hair splayed out on the cushion. I hid my face in my hands.
What in Merlin’s name was wrong with me?
Sighing, I turned, lying on my back as I stared up at the ceiling.
He’s the Dark Lord, he’s the Dark Lord, he’s the Dark Lord, he-
I closed my eyes.
The Dark Lord would never help the woman sent back to kill him with her homework.
My eyes opened, seeing Tom looking down at me.
His face was contorted into one of confusion as his gaze raked my form before meeting my eyes again. He quirked an eyebrow.
I chuckled, sitting up again.
“Is everything okay?”
I smiled at the Slytherin. “Yeah.” My gaze drifted between his curious eyes. “It is.” Slowly, I reached my right hand up.
His gaze went to it, watching for a few moments, before his eyes returned to mine.
I carefully placed my hand on the side of his face.
He took in a sharp inhale, eyebrows pulling together and eyelids fluttering.
I gently rubbed my thumb over his cheek, reaching my left hand up and placing it on his shoulder.
He stared into my eyes with so much emotion I could barely stand it.
I leaned forward slowly, watching him intently for any indication of rejection.
He swallowed hard as I got closer.
When I was just a few inches from him, I met his eyes.
They were large, looking alarmed, but I didn’t find any dislike.
I slowly closed the gap, my eyes fluttering closed unintentionally the moment our lips met.
Merlin, his lips felt so perfect against mine.
My hand on his shoulder shifted, dragging across his back to cradle the back of his head. My fingers threaded through the hair, loving the softness.
A tug on my waist brought my attention to the weight of his hands on my hips.
I broke the kiss slowly, desperately needing air, and rested my forehead against his. I continued to play with his hair as I panted for breath, my eyes still closed, afraid that if I opened them the moment would be gone.
For the first time in a long while I could finally hear Tom’s breathing, nearly as ragged as mine.
I felt a gentle nudge against my lips and kissed back, my right hand taking place at the back of Tom’s head to replace my left hand, which had traveled down to Tom’s left shoulder. My arm laid completely across the back of his neck and shoulders, pulling him towards me with such force I fell backwards onto the couch, Tom following.
I opened my eyes as I pulled away, looking up at him.
He panted from above me, eyes drifting between my own.
Shifting my right hand, I brushed some of his fallen hair out of his eyes. “I think I love you,” I whispered.
His eyes widened and he froze, his breathing seeming to stop altogether.
But perhaps it did.
As much as my head screamed at me that this was Voldemort, the Dark Lord, the killer of dozens, it didn’t feel true.
I could never feel this way about Voldemort.
Tom Riddle was a different person. He shared the same anger issues, hurts, wishes for something better for himself, but he wasn’t so malicious.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, cradling his jaw again. “You don’t need to say it back if you don’t want to.”
Tom’s wide eyes searched my own, as if in disbelief of what he’d heard.
I chuckled, reaching both arms around his back and pulled him down, laying him on top of me.
He tried to use his forearms to support his weight, but I forced his entire body onto me, enjoying the fullness of his presence.
Letting out a content sigh, I wrapped my arms around him, rubbing his back. I turned my head, placing a kiss on his temple before we stilled, just listening to the sounds of our own breathing and the fire, feeling nothing but each other.
~~~~~~~~
Tom hadn’t spoken to me since yesterday.
While he normally would spend some time eating breakfast at my table before most of the students came in, he marched straight to the Slytherin table, an expression on his face that I had never seen on him before.
He didn’t look quite confused or angry, but he didn’t look happy or sad either.
The best guess I had was that he was trying to figure out what to do after our last…interaction.
To be fair, hearing those three dangerous words from someone not from your own time sent to kill you would probably send me for a loop.
I slowly ate supper, doing some thinking of my own.
I had caught him looking at me multiple times today, but that was hardly surprising, or even helpful in finding out what was going through his brain.
It was doing little to calm the anxiety that had seemed to settle in my stomach and reside there all day.
“King?”
I looked up, seeing Margaret and Joan looking at me expectantly. “Sorry, what?”
“What are your plans after you graduate?”
I let out a small chuckle at the irony, looking back down at the food on my plate. “I’m not sure.” My gaze lifted to find the Head Boy. “I guess that depends.”
Margaret caught it and she gasped, clasping her hands together. “Are you going to marry Tom Riddle!?”
My fork slipped out of my hand, clattering against the plate as my eyes widened. “Shhh!” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Merlin, Margaret, people can hear you.”
She grinned sheepishly. “Sorry.”
After a beat of silence, Joan looked over at me. “Well? Are you?”
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I don’t know.” My leg began to bounce and I brought my hand down, placing it on top of my knee in an effort to stop its movements. “I don’t know what we are.” I looked over at him. “I don’t know if we can.”
Can you marry someone from the past?
“We didn’t think you and Tom were that close,” Joan admitted carefully. “I know that you would often disappear, but we didn’t know why.”
“He’s helping me study for the upcoming exams,” I said, gaze dropping back to my plate.
“Is that all?”
I glanced over at Margaret. “I don’t know.” Putting my hands on the table, I stood. “I’m going for a walk. I’ll see you both later.” Stepping away from the table, I marched out of the Great Hall, not once looking back.
~~~~~~~~
I simply had to ask him.
Two days had gone by without anything from the famous Slytherin.
I sat at breakfast, trying to figure out when the best time to approach him was.
He didn’t even come into the Great Hall early like he usually did, instead coming in surrounded by his followers amongst the flood of other students.
“Attention, students,” Headmaster Dippet spoke. “Your final exams begin today and last throughout the week. To avoid cheating, only one house at a time will take their exams so that everyone can have their own desk.” His gaze raked across the tables. “Your schedules are posted on the classroom doors. Now,” he gestured, “enjoy your breakfast. And good luck.”
I ran a hand through my hair as he sat back down.
Alright. Approaching Tom before our exams was out of the question.
Maybe I could catch him in the hallway.
I then had the thought that talking to the most famous boy in school about our love life in the middle of a likely-busy hallway was not my best idea.
After class, perhaps?
He might have Head Boy duties, or something. He’d probably run off to his Common Room as soon as he could, anyway.
Merlin, this was giving me a headache.
Sighing in temporary defeat, I pulled out my textbook to begin studying for my first test.
Maybe focusing on something else would clear my head.
~~~~~~~~
By Friday I was determined to track this man down, even if it meant breaking into the Slytherin Common Room.
It had been a whole week since we had spent that evening in the Common Room.
Merlin, it just was my luck that the first person I broke down walls for, confessed my feelings to and was intimate with would be from fifty years ago, and it just would be Lord Voldemort- the man that I had been sent to kill- and of course he would avoid me at any possible cost afterwards.
You couldn’t write this stuff.
As soon as I handed in my test for grading- briefly noting that there was no way I did as well as I would have liked given my mental state- I sprinted out of the classroom as quickly as I could, making a beeline for the Slytherin Common Room.
If I had to wait there for hours, I would see Tom Riddle.
He couldn’t run forever.
And so, I waited.
Because it was Friday, the last day before graduation, there was only one exam today in order to give the teachers enough time to grade everything.
Tom wouldn’t be long.
I waited outside their door for two hours, at some point sitting down because my feet were beginning to hurt from standing on the stone floor. At the sound of voices, I looked up, rising to stand.
Tom, naturally, led the pack; taking up the front.
He looked away from one of his followers, eyes landing on their door before his gaze drifted to me.
I don’t think I had ever seen Tom Riddle look nervous before.
“King,” he addressed in a false sense of calm.
I could hear the slight waver in his voice.
Cocking an eyebrow, I resisted the urge to cross my arms. “Riddle,” I replied in a cold tone.
He let out a harsh, silent breath, glancing away briefly before meeting my eyes again. “What are you doing here?”
“Hunting for snakes.” I allowed my arms to cross. “They tend to hide when they get scared.” I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes. “You haven’t seen any, have you?”
Whispers broke out amongst the Slytherins behind Tom.
He looked over his shoulder, wordlessly silencing them with only an expression. Turning back to me, he faltered for a moment.
I had clearly caught him off guard.
He was getting sloppy.
I mentally patted myself on the back.
Surely if Tom was going to end up as Voldemort he would have kept alert, right?
At his prolonged silence I raised an expectant eyebrow.
“What’s the wait for?!” Someone from the back yelled.
I looked towards the back of the group before meeting Tom’s gaze again.
He huffed, rolling his eyes slightly. Looking back to me, he finally found his voice. “We were going to celebrate the end of the year…” he trailed off, hoping I would get the message.
If he thought I was going to succumb to his not-so-subtle hint to leave, he had another thing coming.
I scoffed. “You’re not.”
“We’re not?”
“You’re not.” I nodded my head towards the group behind the Head Boy. “They can do what they please.” I looked back to Tom. “But you owe me a conversation and some time.”
He watched me for a few moments.
I refused to back down.
Tom sighed, nodding. He gestured for the rest of his housemates to go in, quietly announcing the password.
When we were finally alone I remained silent, wanting him to crumble a little under the dread of what would come out of my mouth.
Frankly, I didn’t even know what I was going to say.
After a few moments he cleared his throat, drawing his shoulders back and holding his head high to stand to his full height. He looked at me, raising an eyebrow, but I could see the flicker of fear behind his eyes.
I waited a few beats before asking the first question. “Do you realize how horrible this week has been for me?” I scoffed. “Merlin, Tom, we graduate tomorrow- I worried I would never see you again.”
His gaze dropped to the floor.
I crossed my arms, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious. “Look, if you regret it- if you regret me- then you should have just come out and say it.” I looked to the wall, terrified of meeting his eyes.
Silence stretched between us, feeling so suffocating I considered leaving to get some fresh air.
But I couldn’t. Not now. Not when I finally had him.
“I don’t.”
It was so quiet I barely heard him. I finally turned my head to face him, meeting his gaze. I eyed him, trying to find any indication of a lie. Finding none, I continued. “Why are you avoiding me?”
“I needed some time to think.”
I tried to swallow the lump that formed in my throat, but was unsuccessful. “And?” I managed to croak out.
He grew silent again.
If I didn’t know any better, I would say he was toying with me intentionally.
My eyebrows pulled together as I searched his eyes. “Tom?”
He took a deep breath. “I want you to stay.” He straightened his posture again. “I want you to stay with me.”
I swore my heart stopped.
Time seemed to halt around me.
I opened my mouth, trying to respond, but I found I had no idea what to say.
Did I want to stay with him? Could I stay in a time that wasn’t my own? Was he completely cured of his evil endeavors?
I blinked away my thoughts, squaring my shoulders. “And your…plans for the future?”
He went silent, though he held my gaze. “I never had anyone love me before,” he finally settled on saying. “I didn’t think I was capable of the feeling, myself.” He took in a large, shaky breath, but kept his eyes on mine. “I’m willing to give up my aspirations for you.” His eyebrows quirked up in vulnerability. “If you’ll have me.”
I was rendered completely and utterly speechless. All thoughts of an appropriate response fled my brain. I looked down, trying to think, when I caught sight of his hands at his sides. I lifted my head to meet his gaze. “And the Horcruxes?”
He grimaced. “I haven’t destroyed them, yet.” He lifted his hand to look at the ring that hugged his finger. “I’m not looking forward to it.”
“It’s going to hurt,” I confirmed, walking towards him to look at the ring. Reaching my hand out, I stroked the gem, making a mental note that he let me. I lifted my gaze to meet his eyes. “That’s what happens when you split your soul apart.”
He sighed, nodding.
I clapped my hand on his chest good-naturedly. “Be glad I caught you when you’ve only made two. I imagine it hurts worse with each split.”
Having nothing to say, he simply nodded again.
I chuckled, holding his large hand between both of mine. “So…” I grinned up at him, “you’ll get a good job because you’re so smart, I’ll get the best job I can, being in a different time and everything, and we’ll go from there.” I gently patted the top of his hand. “How does that sound?”
He smiled. “It’s a start.”
I chuckled, stepping completely into him and wrapping my arms around him.
His arms came around me, settling on my low back.
I let out a small laugh. “How on earth did I do this?”
Tom pulled away slightly to look down at me. “Do what?”
“Tame the Dark Lord.” I chuckled. “I still don’t know what Professor McGonagall was thinking. I have no idea how this worked.”
Tom thought for a moment. “By being yourself, I suppose.”
I hummed. “Sounds flimsy.”
Tom huffed a chuckle and I grinned, looking up at him.
Reaching my right hand up, I once again cradled the side of his face.
He closed his eyes, leaning into it, before he opened them to look down at me.
We both leaned forward, meeting in the middle, and our lips connected, slotting into place.
My heart danced in my chest as I ran my hand through his hair before pulling away to look up at him. “I love you.”
He smiled down at me. “I love you, too.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/n: Holy moly, this is so long. 54 pages.
This was actually really hard to write. Trying to make Tom Riddle redeemable is easier said than done. I got stuck multiple times when writing this, trying to figure out how to best progress in a way that was realistic and moved the story and their relationship forward in a believable way. He's also so nuanced that I reworked a fair number of his lines to try to sound as much like him as possible.
I went back and edited some things multiple times because I noticed that I was writing King coming at the problem from a Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff way, so I had to try to adjust it to make her more firmly Gryffindor. She still has moments of traits from other houses, but that's normal, so.
There's a couple things in the story that I didn't outright say, but wanted to share anyway:
-Tom WAS following King (in Hogsmeade, the library, etc.) to keep an eye on her, because she DID defeat him and could have killed him if she wanted. While he never admitted it, he did view her as a threat.
-Dippet's password being "strawberries" I made up/guessed, because Dumbledore had started a rumor that Dippet had planted strawberries on the castle grounds, likely meaning the Headmaster was fond of them.
-Doing some research, I found that Abraxas didn't actually go to school with Tom, but Avery was one of the few Death Eaters that were confirmed to.
-Tom reacting so strongly to physical affection just made sense to me. Especially growing up in an orphanage, that boy is definitely touch-starved.
-Tom avoiding King to think also seemed fitting, since he was new to love and he had to battle between a woman and all of the plans he had been crafting for years. I think it's realistic that he would have tried to give himself space and time to weigh his options, and even not wanting to seek her out to tell her.
-Tom didn't see an issue announcing the password to the Slytherin Common Room in front of King because it was the last school day, so she couldn't use it after they graduated, anyway.
Anywho. That was a lot. Hope you enjoyed. Make sure to let me know what you thought! I'm curious if you thought I did our dear Tom Riddle justice.
i know that’s right🗣️🗣️
002 get him back!
✧ wc: 4k
✧ warnings/content: miya osamu x fem!reader, sfw, fake dating au, angst to fluff,
✧ GUTS masterlist, regular masterlist
divider from @/cafekitsune
It all started when Miya Atsumu said that you would never be able to find anyone who could put up with you. And you would have taken that with a grain of salt, if Miya Atsumu wasn't your ex who also happened to be a thorough asshole.
“Well you dated me didn’t you?!”
“And we broke up, duh.” he says flippantly.
You clam up at that. You know he’s just saying things. He doesn’t mean it and he’s a complete moron. But it’s been almost a year since the break-up and not a single man has even offered to buy you a drink. Are you going to have to resort to making a Hinge profile?
–
“I don’t know why ya let him get to ya. He’s just a moron,” Osamu says.
“You have to say that, he’s your brother,” you grumble.
“True. But he is an idiot.”
You plop your face heavily into the elbow resting on the counter and blow raspberries in one big exhale.
“Don’t get yer spit all over where my customers eat.”
You grunt, turning over to watch Osamu work behind the counter.
“Do you think I’m unlovable?” you ask.
“Huh?”
“There must be a reason no one’s asked me out on a date in the past 8 months, right?”
Osamu sighs, dropping off a plate of food in front of you. “I’m not gonna answer that.” Then he turns with his back facing you to fiddle with something on the other side of the kitchen.
“Why not?”
He exhales through his nose, quiet, but you hear it.
He doesn’t get the chance to answer because the door swings open to reveal Osamu’s twin. You jolt up, fixing your posture, self-conscious about letting Atsumu think his words are getting to you.
And rightfully so because Atsumu acts like a shark that smells blood. His lips curl up into what he thinks is a smirk, but resembles much more of a snarl.
“What’s up with ya,” he asks oh-so-innocently.
You have no good response and feel your face heating up in embarrassment when Osamu swoops in.
“Are ya gonna sit down or just block my door? ‘Cause I got people that actually pay to eat here.”
Atsumu starts yelling something at Osamu but simmers down into the seat next to you and mumbles something to himself, no doubt some choice words for his brother. It gives you momentary reprieve from Atsumu’s provocation which is the last thing you need right now with your self-esteem in the dumps.
The break is temporary though, because like a true creature with short-term memory and a propensity for being a prick, Atsumu circles back to the topic when he’s done eating.
“So, found a guy to take you out?”
“What makes you think I’d answer that question,” you bite back. Weak, but it’s all you have.
“Hah,” he scoffs. “I knew it. Ya can’t find anyone.”
You feel the irritation boiling like a witch’s cauldron inside of you, brewing a mix of resentment, mortification, and the tiniest streak of competitiveness. Atsumu not shutting up for the rest of the night is the final ingredient that makes your red hot concoction boil over. It goes a bit like this:
“Tell me if ya want me to set ya up with someone from the team. Might be the only chance ya get at this rate,” he teases.
“No thanks,” you hiss. “I’ll have you know that I’m dating Osamu, widely known as the better Miya.” You point smugly at Osamu whose back is currently to you both.
“What!” Atsumu yells. “Osamu? And you?”
With Osamu’s back to you, you can’t see his face, but all your fingers and toes are crossed that he’ll play along so that you don’t burn up in a gas of complete humiliation.
When Osamu turns around, his eyes go to you first. They search yours for something – what, you don’t know. He apparently finds it because he blinks away and tells his brother to mind his own business, neither denying nor validating your claim.
It might as well be confirmation though, because Atsumu squawks in indignation, sputtering his disbelief. Osamu continues to bicker with his brother, keeping him occupied enough to not realize that he was slowly being backed out of the restaurant.
When Osamu slams the door on Atsumu and twists the lock in a dramaticized show of finality, Atsumu finally gives up, yelling a muffled “I’ll be back.” through the windows. You could laugh at the duo if Osamu didn’t turn around and fix you with a look, similar to that of a responsible older brother scolding a child.
“Now yer turn. What was that about?”
“Osamu! You heard the way he was talking to me. I just can’t stand it!”
“Have ya thought this through? How’s this supposed to end, huh? We break up and Atsumu goes back to making fun of ya?”
You open your mouth to beg, because it’s always worked with Osamu. He always gives in. But he’s not done, apparently.
“‘Least ya could’ve done is ask me out, not use me to get through yer petty grudge with ‘Tsumu.”
That shuts you up. When you look at Osamu, he’s not looking at you. His eyes are downcast, distracting himself by wiping up the counter. It’s so brief that you convince yourself that you imagined the hurt in his voice.
“‘Samu…”
“Forget it. I’ll do it, but ya better have it thought out because I’m not helping ya anymore than this.”
It should be a win and any other time, you would wrap him up in a bear hug and shower him with thanks, but the defeated way Osamu concedes makes you solemnly finish your meal. It feels unfitting to say thank you.
–
Your first stint as Osamu’s girlfriend comes in the form of a friend’s dinner party. Since the night you forced Osamu to be your boyfriend, you have been back at Onigiri Miya to hang out, but have painfully tiptoed around the topic. The thought has occurred to you that you and Osamu should agree upon a backstory, but you haven’t had the courage to breach the topic after the way Osamu reacted.
He had just nodded when you asked him to attend this dinner party with you. And with that, he had dutifully picked you up at your apartment, perfectly on time. You had expected a stone-faced Osamu all night, but he had surprised you with a sweet smile, one that you’re used to being on the receiving end of. But it somehow feels different tonight. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s supposed to be smiling at you as your lover tonight. It was easy, the way he had held out his arm for you, no awkwardness in sight.
At dinner, Osamu makes no move to let go of your hand, going as far as to intertwine your fingers under the table. When any one asks how the two of you began dating, he squeezes to tell you he’ll handle this. You’re grateful and you feel undeservingly spoiled as you watch him. He looks around the room, drifts his gaze back to you where his lips flicker upwards for the tiniest second, then looks back at the crowd to flash a mysterious, close-lipped smile. You can barely hear the dinner table go wild with jeers and Atsumu squawking as you gawk at Osamu’s act.
And it goes on.
As you eat, he keeps your fingers clasped between his, laid on his lap. Atsumu gives you two the stink-eye, questioning why Osamu was eating with his left hand. You’re pretty sure your eyes are bulging out of your head at this point, because Osamu flushes. Osamu is blushing as he reluctantly lets go of your hand, making a show out of placing your hand back on your own lap and mumbling a heavily-accented apology at no one in particular.
–
When dinner finally ends, the party migrates to the living room. Osamu doesn’t need to ask, perfectly picking your favorite after-dinner drink of choice as he chooses a beer for himself. He has once again claimed your hand in his. His grip is tight and when you try to slip your hand out to get some space, he holds tighter.
You lean up to whisper in his ear, “Osamu, my hands are sweaty.”
He leans down to hear you better, but stands back up when he registers your comment. He ignores you, only squeezing twice, as if telling you to behave for him. Your head spins; you’ve never dated like this before.
Being with Atsumu was like living in a comically unrealistic sit-com, like you were constantly finding yourself in situations and having conversations that belong in a Tom and Jerry episode. He argued with you about everything, had an ego, and a temper. A particularly memorable moment was when he was still courting you, trying to convince you to date him by saying, “I’m six foot two.”
“Dude, nice try,” you had said.
But somehow, right now, with Osamu standing by your side and towering over you, you think that if this younger twin used that line on you right now, you’d fold in half for him. As if you wouldn’t with all the sweet nothings he’s lavished on you in this one night.
He only lets you get away when you embarrassingly whisper to him that you need a bathroom break.
“I’ll walk with ya.”
“No!” you exclaim. You lower your voice when he stares at you. “It’s okay, ‘Samu. I’ll be right back, okay?”
He backs off and you finally get away from his orbit.
Finally alone, you barely pull yourself together. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, slapping your cheeks lightly to pry the strange daze from your eyes. You can’t get carried away here. Osamu is doing you a favor, one he isn’t fond of. You can’t get used to Osamu treating you like this. It’s borrowed time.
You splash water onto your face, waiting until the chill seeps into your cheeks that have been painfully hot since Osamu picked you up tonight.
As you exit the bathroom, Atsumu is there waiting for you in the hallway.
“I’m onto ya,” he starts.
You scoff, immediately putting your facade back on. It’s easy with Atsumu. “Oh please, Atsumu. You’re just jealous.”
It doesn't phase Atsumu the way you hope. “Such a weak comeback. Sounds like something you’d say to disguise the fact that yer playin’ my brother.” Your brother is the one playing me.
“Whatever, Atsumu,” you say, walking away, taking Osamu’s advice to not let Atsumu get to you.
“I bet ya forced my brother to pretend to be yer boyfriend. I know my brother and I know you. Just admit it.” He smirks. “It’s okay that no one wants to date ya. Nothin’ to be ashamed of.”
The fact that even Atsumu, even all of his stupidity, sees right through you makes you feel hot. You’re grateful that you’ve already turned away from him because you could not take much more damage tonight. Nothing would end you in a worse way than Atsumu seeing that he could make you cry.
Or maybe it’s the fact that Atsumu doesn’t, for one second, believe that someone like his brother could fall for someone like you. Maybe no one does. Maybe everyone here just thinks that you’re making this up and they’re playing along to help you save face.
It takes everything in you to keep your steps and breathing even as you take the walk back to Osamu to compose yourself.
It’s useless apparently because Osamu seems right through you. He immediately offers to take you to the balcony, explaining to everyone that you need some fresh air to cut through the alcohol you’ve had.
His silent understanding makes it worse because it makes it clear that you’re an open book. The act you put on is completely pointless because no one believes you anyway.
Osamu guides you to the balcony and shuts the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone.
He joins you at the railing, draping his jacket over you. You know he knows that you want to avoid looking into his eyes, just as much as he knows you want to avoid having this conversation altogether. He sighs.
“Why do ya let him get to you like that?”
You look back at him, eyes widening at the tone he rarely takes with you. His eyes are fixed forward, arms still dutifully wrapped around you, ever the dedicated boyfriend. But as his gaze flickers to you momentarily, you catch the weight of his question in his eyes.
“Who?” you mumble.
But Osamu’s not in the mood. He stays silent, letting the question hang in the air.
“I don’t know… I just…”
“Are ya still in love with my brother?”
“No,” you answer honestly.
Osamu raises his brows.
“No, but I’ve known him for so long now.” You feel the need to explain. “He just gets under my skin. You of all people should understand – he’s your brother! You guys fight all day long.”
“He’s my brother. We shared a womb. We were born to fight.” Osamu sighs. “You, though... Why can’t ya just let it go?”
“I don’t know! I just…” you trail off.
He continues to stare at you, not even knowing the effect he has on you. His earnest gaze pulls the truth out from under your skin.
“I wanna get him back,” you admit.
Osamu’s eyes go dark at that statement. His expression shutters.
“Not like that!” you quickly amend. “Not like I want to get back with him, I mean like, his face just pisses me off!”
“Huh?”
“I just wanna punch him in the face but I don’t think anything would give me more satisfaction than proving him wrong you know. And honestly, Osamu, you-”
“Ya think that I’m the perfect person to piss him off for ya. ‘Cause I’m his brother and there’s no one else who would get under his skin more than if I replaced him.”
You hear the disappointment heavy in his intonation.
“Osamu…”
“Am I wrong?”
He’s not wrong, but you feel an urge to tell him how he made you tingle at dinner. It was in the way he catered to your whims, covered for you, and held your hand in secret. It was in the way he, as your not-boyfriend, made you feel loved and desired much more so than any other boyfriend you’ve ever had before.
But when you look at his side profile, face now turned away from you and hidden by the shadows of the night, it doesn’t feel right to say any of that. Even in your mind, it sounds like an excuse. Because the bottom line is that he’s right. Your original intentions had been to use Osamu. And the fact that you might have developed a slight crush on him in the process doesn’t make you feel any less shitty and certainly doesn’t make Osamu feel any less used.
His question goes unanswered.
–
The rest of the week goes by uneventfully. Actually, it goes by too uneventfully because Osamu doesn’t call or text once. Not that you’ve made an effort, but after how that last conversation with Osamu ended, you can’t find the courage to face Osamu.
It doesn’t make you miss him any less.
You can’t recall if you used to miss Osamu like this, think about him and wish he’d reach out even if it’s only been a couple of days since you’ve last met. You only know that right now, you wish he’d make the first move because you can’t muster up the nerve to see him, even if it’s all you wanted. It also makes you realize that Osamu has been spoiling you long before that night and long before he agreed to be your fake boyfriend. The reason you never had to miss him is because he is always the one who makes the effort to call, text, bring you lunch, pick you up from work, drive you around.
The realization only made you feel worse about yourself.
And after days of mulling over realization after realization, each making you guiltier and guiltier, you made your decision.
That’s how you end up running to Osamu’s apartment, late on a Thursday evening. Without pausing to compose yourself, afraid you’ll lose your momentum, you knock.
The door swings open to reveal a very tired-looking, very handsome Osamu. He has his cap off, but his hair is unruly, as if his fingers have just recently run through it. His eyes are slightly bloodshot and his t-shirt is wrinkled. The urge to rub your thumb over his eyelids and smooth your other hand over this shirt is a sudden one you shove down because Osamu’s opening his mouth.
“Hey, what’cha doing here so late?”
There’s a momentary disappointment that strikes your gut. He asks you so normally, as if he isn’t plagued with thoughts of avoiding you. As if the couple of days that have gone by without any interaction between the two of you isn’t even a thought that occupies headspace.
“Uh,” you stutter.
“Actually,” he sighs and glances behind him. “Now’s not a good time. Can ya-”
“I don’t care about Atsumu,” you cut him off. It sounds like he’s preparing a rejection. Or he just doesn’t want to talk. Neither of which are favorable outcomes, so you barrel through to say what you need to say.
“I don’t care about what he thinks. Not anymore and definitely not that night. I was actually thinking about you the entire time and Atsumu, well, he’s just-”
“Just wait a minute, okay-”
“He just gets under my nerves because of the shit he says and I know he’s just saying stuff to rile me up and I’m a hothead, okay? He gets me because we’re like the same person sometimes, but I’m not doing this to get back at him anymore. It’s actually your fault because-”
“I knew it!” a voice yells from behind Osamu.
You crane your neck to see around Osamu and curse Osamu’s big frame for taking up the entire doorway and blocking your view of the apartment because there is the older twin, grinning widely and walking up to where you’re both standing.
You instantly feel the panic rise in your system.
“Atsumu,” Osamu begins in a warning tone.
Ignoring his brother, Atsumu continues on. “I knew it. I knew the two of ya couldn’t be dating just like that.”
Your nervous system goes into overdrive. Even you know how this looks.
You barged into Osamu’s place randomly at night and picked the time when Atsumu coincidentally is here as well.
Your wide eyes meet Osamu, willing him to believe that you didn’t come to make a scene for Atsumu’s viewing. You didn’t come to confess that you might have a crush on him with this exact timing so that Atsumu would fall for the act.
When Osamu refuses to meet your eyes, it brings your attention back to Atsumu, who continues to gloat about his victory.
Your face burns in mortification as you take slow steps away from the twins, making room for your getaway. As Atsumu gets closer and Osamu continues to avoid your gaze, your courage wanes and the last bit of pride you’re holding onto propels you to turn away instead of retorting as you always do.
“Aww, really let my words get to ya, didn’t ya? I knew all along-”
Before you can start running, Osamu grabs your arm and pulls you into the apartment, the other arm shoving Atsumu out.
“Hey, ‘Samu!”
“Shut the fuck up, ‘Tsumu. Now that my girlfriend’s here to spend the night, get out.” Osamu shuts the door in his face.
Atsumu’s protests fall on deaf ears, the sound of Osamu referring to you as his girlfriend echoing in your mind. He had taken your side, chosen to take the course of action that would embarrass you to least despite not having confirmed what your intentions were. The thought fills you with hope.
He pulls you further into the apartment, sitting you on the barstool. After situating you on the chair, he makes to step out of your personal space, but you lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. Your eyes start to sting in frustration that Osamu could somehow believe that this was all just another incident you had orchestrated to get back at his brother. This has all gotten so hopelessly messy.
“Osamu,” you sniffle into his neck. “I didn’t come over here and say all that because I knew Atsumu was listening. I just-” missed you.
He rubs soothing circles into your back, gently enough to make you want to cry more because you don’t deserve this but want it so badly.
“You just…?” he prompts.
The words won’t come out and your tears soak into his shirt. You want to tell him so badly that you’re not crying to garner his sympathy; you’re crying because you’re so angry with yourself.
Osamu patiently strokes your back, letting you cry before quietly telling you, “Oh, baby. How long do ya think we’ve known each other? I know yer not the type to set up this whole complicated scenario just to show up my stupid brother. I believe ya.”
His other arm is now holding your head to his neck, fingers running lightly across your scalp. “So can ya finish what you were about to say for me?”
His words and his actions do what they always do to you. They fill you with so much hope that there’s no room to mistaken his intentions. They fill you with the courage to tell him.
“Missed you,” you whisper.
Finally, both of his arms wrap around your back to push you tight into his chest. He squeezes, gentle enough to keep you safe but firm enough to tell you he wants you there. It pulls the confession out of you.
“And I like you so much, Osamu.”
He chuckles lightly into your ear. You can feel the vibrations echo in his chest. When you squeeze back, he trails his arms down to your legs to guide them around his waist. He carries you with ease to the couch and sits you down to cry in his lap.
You don’t know how long the two of you sit like that for, but when you finally calm down, you keep your arms wrapped around him and quietly ask, “why did you do all this for someone like me?”
He stops stroking your hair.
“What, ya don’t like it?”
You pull away to protest, already too comfortable with him spoiling you again, only to find the corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk.
He’s teasing, you realize.
You smack his face weakly and wind your arms back around him.
You snuggle back into his neck but he’s the one who pulls you back this time.
“Hey, seriously though,” he says. “Is this okay?”
You nod shyly.
“I need to hear it, sweetheart.”
“I want it.”
“Alright. C’mere then.”
You oblige.
“Can I tell ya a secret?” he murmurs into your neck.
You nod.
“There isn’t a man out there who’d do all that for someone he doesn’t love, ya know that?”
It makes you flustered, but much of what Osamu does does that to you. His tenderness makes you want to try harder to meet him in the middle.
“Can I do something?” you ask, taking a leap. Your face is incredibly hot and your heart is beating embarrassingly loudly against his. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”
It’s easy when he responds, “You can do anything ya want to me.”
You intend for it to be an innocent peck, your form of an apology. But he holds the back of your neck, the other arm wrapped almost all the way around your torso and doesn’t let go until you’re panting against his open mouth.
He’s nonchalant when he shrugs.
“You can do anything ya want but I’ll be doing the same from now on.”
hey guys im sorry i haven’t updated, i literally got evicted from my house and had to sleep on my car on a supermarket parking lot with my family yesterday, i still don’t have internet at my new house so idk when ill be able to upload again, love yall
Girlll how about Miguel x Hispanic!Wife! Reader and Miguel comes home all beaten up and shit with his suit glitching and she asks what happen and he explains how he chased down miles and she yells at him for beating up a child. Like full on Hispanic mom mode then she gets all soft with him and patches him up and cooks him something nice 😊
YOU WHAT?
omg bettt, sorry this took so long, I wrote it and forgot to save it before closing the app and lost everything 😭
Miguel O’Hara x Hispanic!Wife Reader
Masterlist
Warnings: Swear words
You and Miguel had been married for some years, you both met at the spider society, but ever since you got pregnant Miguel became too protective of you and insisted on you taking a break, he didn’t want you to make too much effort and hurt yourself, or even worse, he couldn’t handle the thought of losing another child or losing you, so eventually you gave in to his wishes and took a break.
You were cleaning your house (even though Miguel told you he would do it when he came back) while listening to songs that you’re sure you learnt from listening to them when your mom cleaned when you were younger, you know those sad old lady songs like the ones from Amanda Miguel, Pimpinela, Rocío Dúrcal, and artists like that “Amor, de verdad pareces una señora dolida” (Love, you’re acting like a depressed old lady) Miguel told you once when he came home to you screaming your lungs out to Así No Te Amará Jamás as if you had been through three divorces and four infidelities.
Suddenly your thoughts were interrupted when you heard the door aggressively open and heavy footsteps, you became excited as you knew that Miguel had finally arrived, but when you heard that he was stumbling around and you turned to him you were shocked. You saw your husband covered in bruises and wounds, and his suit was glitching, you hadn’t seen him like that in such a long time, you weren’t even sure that you had ever seen him that bad.
Hearing him groan in pain pulled you out of your shock state and you soon started to realize how messed up he actually looked.
“AY MIGUEL, QUE CHINGADOS TE PASÓ?” (AY MUGUEL, WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO YOU?) you asked shocked
“Nothing, im fi-“ he couldn’t even finish his sentence without whining in pain
“Ay no, no me vengas con esas mamadas de que no te pasó nada y que no se que chingados, no puedes ni siquiera decir una oración completa y dices esas pendejadas de que estás bien? Yo no soy pendeja y tu lo sabes Miguel, a mi no me ves la cara. Dime que chingados te pasó antes de que yo me entere por mi cuenta.” (Oh no, don’t come tell me that dumb shit of nothing happened, you can’t even finish a sentence and you say that you’re fine? I’m not dumb and you know it well Miguel, you are not lying to me. Tell me what the fuck happened before I find out by my own)
“I already told you i’m fine my love, you don’t need to worry about me, really” he was now sitting down on your couch
You approached him and you now had a clearer view of his wounds “Ay no, mírate cómo estás, no no, estoy bien mis huevos, iiiih, no mames me estás manchando mi sillón, neta si no me vas a decir que te pasó mínimo déjame ayudarte con tus heridas amor” (Look at you, no no, I’m fine my ass, oh my god and you’re staining my couch, if you’re not gonna tell me what happened at least let me help you with your wounds love)
“You really don’t need to, I can do it mysel-“
“Ya cállate, te voy a ayudar porque te voy a ayudar y tu te vas a dejar, y si no te dejas donde vea que se te infectan las heridas vas a ver eh cabrón?” (Just shut up, I’m gonna help you and you’re gonna let me, and if you don’t if I see that your wounds get infected you’re done understood?)
“No te vas a rendir verdad? okay fine you can help me” (You’re not giving up are you?)
“Good, it wasn’t a question” you smiled at him while heading to your bathroom to get your emergency kit which you always kept even if Miguel told you to throw it away or that it wasn’t necessary multiple times.
You came back to your living room and started cleaning Miguels wounds “So, you’re gonna tell me what happened to you or?”
He sighed “Miles..” he said almost whispering
“Hm? say it again? I can’t hear you corazón”
“Miles”
“Miles? as in the kid you told me about?” he nodded
“He couldn’t have possibly done this right? he’s a kid, you said so, tell me the full story”
“He went to HQ, Gwen brought him… he broke a cannon event and destroyed a universe, then I had to tell him”
“About? go on mi cielo, I’m all ears”
He sighed “I had to tell him… about his cannon event”
“Oh… I’m guessing he didn’t take it well” he shook his head
“He wanted to save his dad even if it destroyed the universe, I had to chase him down, I had to tell him that he was an anomaly, Every single spider in the society chased him down and he still beat our asses and managed to escape, I was so close to fucking ending with it once for all”
“YOU WHAT? A ver cielo, déjame ver si entendí, HICISTE QUE UN MONTÓN DE ADULTOS PERSIGUIERAN A UN NIÑO Y DESPUÉS CASI LO MATAS?” (YOU WHAT? Okay, let me see if I understood, YOU MADE A BUNCH OF ADULTS CHASE DOWN A KID AND AFTER THAT YOU ALMOST KILLED THE KID?)
quiet
“Sabes lo que le pudo haber pasado a ese niño?! Que habrías hecho si lo hubieras matado eh?” (Do you know what could’ve happened to that kid?! What would you have done if you had killed him huh?)
“Y/n you don’t understand, he wouldn’t listen to me”
“No, I don’t understand, he’s just a kid Miguel, of course he’s gonna try to save his dad! it’s logic!”
“Then what was I supposed to do huh?!”
“I DONT KNOW, MAYBE NOT TRY TO KILL A KID?”
“Look, I’m sorry, I just wanted what was best for everyone, I didn’t want him to deal with the guilt of making an universe come to an end, I’m so sorry , I promise you that I will try to fix everything” he said sincerely
“You should be apologizing to the kid, not me, but don’t worry as long as you make an effort it’ll be okay, just don’t try to kill kids again, and- oh my god, I didn’t finish cooking your food, okay, ahorita regresó mi amor, y ni se te ocurra moverte” as much as you wanted to be mad, you just couldn’t resist him, you brought him food and continued to heal him until he was as best as he could be.
how cute is that picture? UwU
request by @parkjammys (once again, thank you for making my day by posting pics of Outlaws!Jason today)
based on the prompt: "sometimes i look at people and think.. really? that’s the sperm that won?” With best friend Jason feeling really jealous seeing his best friend that he has a major crush on, talk to some guy (guy is Kyle Rayner) and he's mumbling "he's not even her type"
***
„Why is he here again?” Jason scoffed, carefully observing his best friend Y/N, talking to that stupid prick of a green lantern, Kyle Rayner.
“Dunno.” Dick, still in his Nightwing suit shrugged casually, while stuffing his mouth with cereals ‘probably something to do with the newest mission on Earth or something like that.”
“It doesn’t bother you at all?” Jason hissed, involuntarily clenching his fist. “that he just drops by whenever he wants?”
“No, not really.” Dick swallowed particularly huge piece of his meal and focused on his brother’s face. “does it bother you?”
It wasn’t a secret that Jason and Kyle weren’t exactly friends, but the former never reacted with such…. intensity. All right, most of the times the green lantern showed himself around Jason was throwing offences left and right, showing his teeth and acting like he was marking territory. Kyle, however did exactly the same thing. It was sort of tradition at this point. But all that teasing, fake fighting and extreme emotions never escalated so quickly to the point where Jason was all red (and not because of the helmet or the gear), grinding his teeth and subconsciously reaching for his gun while his eyes were fixed on one place in space. Or rather, one person.
Y/N.
She was talking to Kyle, laughing at whatever he just said, her eyes sparkling, looking happy like never before. And what was even worse she just hit his chest playfully. SHE TOUCHED HIM for fuck’s sake and that fucker really seemed to enjoy that. On the other side, Jay did not like it at all. How could he? He had a massive crush on her since he could remember and yet, despite all his cool demeanor, harsh behavior and bad boy outlook, he was too self-conscious to ever confront her about it. Stupid, longing idiot, afraid of his own feelings. To tell the truth, he himself wasn’t sure if he was more afraid of the possibility of her pushing him away or rather the fact that by some miracle she might want him. He was not good in relationships, any of them, and that made his mind create crazy scenarios in which she was hurt or killed or sad or crying because of him.
But sure as hell he was not going to let Rayner get to her first!
She was just …. something different.
The girl who knew what she wanted and wouldn’t settle for anything else. The girl who would stand by you, listening to every rant and problem you may have, but also the one who would turn and run the second she got vulnerable. It was so damn hard, to get her to open up, since on 9 out of 10 cases she would just jump into helping someone else or dig into work.
And she was his best friend.
What kind of fool falls for his best friend?
It was stupid and childish and naïve and yet, all he wanted and needed was to just approach her that very second, interrupt her happy conversation and use one sentence that would either make her hate him and disappear for good or get them both to a whole new level of relationship.
“Let’s fuck up the friendship.” God, how he wished he had the guts to just get it out of his system.
Instead he settled on watching her from the distance, not rushing to make a fool out of himself in front of both Dickhead and that freaking Rayner.
“Jace?” Dick interrupted his train of thought, smirking under his nose.
“What?!”
“Is this about her?”
“What? NO. Fuck no. She’s just my friend. My best friend.”
“Yeah, right, friends don’t look at friends that way.”
“Whatever!” Jason scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest sulking for a moment and sighing deeply. ‘I hate the way she’s smiling at him.” He mumbled “and she’s not even trying to hide it….” He pouted like a completely immature 5 year old.
“She’s an astrophysicist, Jason.” Dick patted his arm reassuringly “ You can’t blame her for being enthralled by all that crazy space-shit stuff he’s saying.”
“I don’t blame her.” Jason hissed “I blame him, you know? Do you ever just look at people and think: really? That’s the sperm that won?”
“No…..” Dick made a face in confusion. Damn it, if that were the thoughts coming into Jason’s mindthan it really was bad.
“Well, I do. And he’s the living proof of that.”
“Jason…..”
“He’s not even her type…” Todd muttered under his breath.
“And what exactly is her type?” Dick smirked again “Tall, dark haired, well-build douche? If you care about her …..”
“I don’t fucking care about her!” he yelled.
Too loud.
Whoopsy.
Not a chance she didn’t hear that, and the sudden outburst made her turn her head towards him. Shit, if he was red before, now he was simply crimson. Jason found himself between the devil and the deep blue see. Should he clear this little misunderstanding? Should he come clean? Or should he just run away leaving the ground burning?
“Jace?” she stuttered, her eyes growing wide, while Kyle took the chance and wrapped and arm around her shoulders protectively to give her some grounding “Is this about me?”
“Good luck, clearing that out, Jaybrid” Dick laughed, but hid it by pretending to sneeze.
“Shut up, Grayson!” Jason hissed through clenched teeth and slowly approached the girl and Kyle. “It was not about you. It was about some girl Grayson met and about whom he couldn’t shut up. You are my best friend, you know it, right?”
“Yeah, yeah, right, best friend’ she mumbled looking down, moving slightly closer to Rayner and away from Jason. Oh, that was like a slap on the cheek. Like a sting right through his heart. Like a….
Was it disappointment in her eyes?
No, it couldn’t be…. Why would she be disappointed?
“Anyway, if you don’t mind, Rayner” Jason used the unimaginable amount of power to control himself “I would love to rescue my best friend from your hand. I bet whatever you say about space must be out of this world, but there are people who actually need her on Earth. On daily basis. Not just while dropping from time to time and leaving her hanging.”
“Oh, Todd.” Kyle cooed “aren’t you just so cute while trying to act like a knight in shining armor. But guess what, she doesn’t need your protection.”
“Right. The only one who’s going to need protection is you. From me.” Jason leaned forward eyeing the other boy with predatory gaze ‘I know what you are plotting, Rayner. And if you think I’m going to let you use her….”
“Is someone jealous?” Kyle scoffed “cause sure it seems you treat me like a threat.”
“Why don’t we take it outside so I can show you how much I am not scared of you. Maybe this time you will deal with someone equal to you rather than seducing girls with your fake charm!” Jason jumped to his feet, Kyle following right after and the tension was so palpable that most likely they wouldn’t even wait to go outside, just beat the shit of each other right inside.
“ENOUGH!” sudden scream coming from Y/N made them both gasp in surprise. Neither Jason nor Kyle has even seen her this angry. She was practically fuming and it was terrifying to see this normally calm, communicative and focused-on-peaceful-solutions-to-problems girl in such state. And it was them who pushed her to this point. She was not a meta or any other kind of superhero but at that moment she held the power of the hurricane and was about to throw it at them.
Shit.
“Y/N…” Jason raised his hands and tried to calm her down.
“Shut up, Jason!”
“ You heard the girl, shut up, Jason” Kyle laughed viciously
“THE SAME GOES FOR YOU RAYNER!”
“I’m sorry….” He whimpered and it was Jason’s turn to laugh.
“I am TIRED of being your toy. Exhausted to be precise. I’ve been making doe eyes at you, Todd for months now. Doe eyes that you chose to ignore every. single. fucking. time. And yet, the moment I move on from this silly, stupid, fucking, one-sided crush you decide to step it and ruin everything. Just because you wanted to? Just because you what? You get jealous now? Fuck, Jason, do you really think you can just do whatever you want, whenever you want, not caring about the others? Not caring what I have to say? Oh, hell no. You don’t hold such power over me. Not anymore.”
“Y/N….” Jason took a step forward, but she jumped away, almost like he was a disease she didn’t want to catch.
“Get away from me!” she hissed “We were just talking, you idiot! I was being nice, not that you know what it means! I’m done with both of you!”
“Wait, what did I do?” Kyle asked, now a bit confused
“Oh, nothing, sweetie.” Y/N mocked “just telling me the shit of improbable stories to make Jason angry while watching me laugh with you. Yeah, I noticed that.” She cut Jason off the moment he opened his mouth to say a thing in his defense “Well, genius, I was laughing at you, wondering when will you finally realize that I did my research and don’t believe a word you say. Are you familiar with the word sarcasm?”
“Haha! Burn!” Jason couldn’t help but let out a laugh
“And you, Todd, should learn the meaning of the word honest. You are both losers. I want nothing to do with you. I’m out.”
And so she left. The only sound they heard after that was slamming of the door to her room. She had one at the Manor since her expert knowledge was sometimes needed and she was helping the bats while patrolling at night.
And then chewing on the cereals.
“Well that was quite the show….”
“SHUT UP GRAYSON!”
***
“Y/N? Please, open the door. I just wanna talk.” Jason was knocking at her door for like 10 minutes now and yet, she didn’t bother answering and he started losing all hope. Did he fuck up? Was all the chances he had with her gone just because he was a stupid idiot In love and therefore acting like crazy?
“She’s not there, you know.” Tim emerged from his room, bothered by all the knocking and begging.
“What? then where is she?”
“Hm…. Not sure if I should tell you after everything that just went down…..”
“How do you….? Fuck, whatever. I swear if you don’t tell me where she hid I would burn all the coffee shops in the tristate area!”
“I equipped them all with the fireproof furniture and equipment a while ago. Had a feeling that sooner or later you will threaten me with the lack of coffee….Listen to me carefully, replacement…” Jason took a step forward, towering over Tim’s figure but before he could take any action, another voice joined the conversation.
“Boys. Why do you always have to act like savages? Y/N escaped to the roof. Guess she was in need of some air after that little outburst.”
“Thanks, Steph.”
“Always a pleasure. “ she winked “Oh, and Todd? Make sure to fix it. I really don’t like this Rayner guy, either.”
***
“Was it Steph? I know it was her.” Jason could only do as much as step into the rooftop when Y/N felt his presence. Apparently the time with bats sharpened her senses.
“Y/n. I just want to talk.”
“Ok. Sit. Talk. I’m listening.” She patted the spot next to her and Jason took it without any hesitation. She was willing to listen, maybe not everything was lost.
“I’m sorry” he sighed deeply and that made her turn her head and look straight into his eyes just to confirm if he actually did say the words she heard coming from him
“Wow! That would be the first time I ever heard you say a thing like that!” she laughed
“I mean it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was playing around with you or anything like this. It’s just…. just…..”
“What, Jace? Come on, just say it. Just be honest with me. I won’t laugh or judge you, I promise.”
“I had a crush on you.”
“Had?”
“All right, I still do!” he threw his hands in the air “Are you trying to humiliate me now?”
“For how long?” she asked looking at the space in front of her, not meeting his eyes and missing the fact that he was eyeing her with love sick puppy eyes, begging whatever deity was there that she would let him love her. Despite everything. He would put all the work in proving to her that he could be better. For her. For them. And if that required honesty – so be it.
“A year.” He muttered, almost inaudibly.
“A year?!” she cried “seriously, Jason! Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“How was I supposed to tell you?! I didn’t know if you were feeling the same way! I couldn’t risk scaring you off. I couldn’t risk…. Losing you. ”
“You didn’t notice all those times when I was making a fool out of myself just to get your attention? I mean really, doe eyes?”
“I’m…. I’m not good with all that flirting and teasing and relationship stuff. I … I don’t recognize it well. Besides, you are my best friend and ….”
“And what?” she moved her whole body, so now she was not only facing him, but her whole figure was turned towards him “Just say it. Please.” She begged, looking straight into his eyes, not faltering for even a second. “Say it, cause I don’t think I can.”
“I wanna fuck up the friendship.” He gasped, not really believing the words coming out of his mouth. But once he started he just couldn’t stop the flow “I want to love you. I want to have you to myself. I want to be yours. I want to be able to hold you, touch you, kiss you. I don’t want to be just friends anymore. I want to make you mine. If you let a fool like me…..“
“And it’s not just because of Kyle?”
“Fuck no! I don’t give a single damn about him! I care about you, Y/N. In a more-than-friends way. I’m done pretending. ” he whispered looking down, his cheeks a bit reddened. Not a long though since she cupped his cheek and made him look at her. “Please, be mine”he whimpered
“Jason, can you promise me you won’t act like a male ego embodied again?”
“I can’t.” he shook his head in resignation “I can’t cause I care too much and can’t help getting possessive sometimes and…..” She didn’t let him finish leaning forward and pressing her lips to his. This took him a bit by surprise, since he thought she was going to ditch him for not being able to promise her what she needed. And instead, she was kissing him?
Damn it, not just kissing, that was clearly an understatement. She was laying all her love on him. Those sweet, soft lips he was dreaming about for so long were on his, brushing over his gently and yet with so much passion he was practically melting. He wanted more and yet, all that tenderness and intimacy of sharing first kiss in the privacy of nighted rooftop was something to enjoy rather than to destroy by any urgency.
And so, even if still confused, he followed her lead, choosing delicacy and softness. Maybe it was what they both needed and enough to get him high and drunk on the feeling of her. He could feel her with every cell in his body. Her touches, her smell, her affection for him. All of it combined.
He barely held back a whine when she pulled back.
“Does this mean you forgive me?” he whispered, his hands aching to touch her and hold her to his chest, but holding back because he needed her direct answer. “For acting like a dumbass?”
“You had me at I wanna fuck up the friendship” she laughed lightly, changing position and settling between his legs, not fighting or running away.
“You have no idea how long I wanted to say it.” He answered, wrapping arms around her waist, pulling her closer and kissing her neck softly, inhaling the fresh scent of her shampoo “So long, baby… so fucking long…..”
“Glad you choose the moment when I was forgiving and merciful” she chuckled “’because you know, it could have backfired on you.”
“But you’re not leaving?” his grip on her tightened in a sudden fright this was all just a crazy dream and in a minute he would wake up in his own bed, alone and cold, still yearning for her, none of those words from before said in real life.
“No.” she put her soft hands on his biceps, caressing his skin and all those scars reassuringly “I made up my mind, Jason. It’s you. It’s always been you. I’m done pretending too.“ she turned her head and hid face in the crook of his neck, nuzzling her nose over his skin. “I love you.”
In the darkness of the roof, with almost no stars on the sky and with her eyes closed, she didn’t notice few tears that gathered in Jason’s eyes and flowing down his cheeks.
He had her.
He finally had her.
And he was not going to let go.
im such a sucker for exes to lovers stories, like i have plenty ideas of fics but theyre all exes to lovers and i dont wanna be too repetitive but girl i need a tsukishima and bakugou and even maybe dabi exes to lovers, but like i already have too exes to lovers stories ongoing rn help
18!she/her, Mexican, taking requests!!@batmanssonsgf on instagram and tiktok
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