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obsessedwithceleste · 3 months

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The Cat Chronicles

(Or five times Theodore Nott *accidentally* stole your cat)

Theodore Nott x reader

word count: 5.9k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

The first time your cat went missing, you didn’t think entirely too much of it. You knew many of the Hogwarts cats liked to gather behind the herbology greenhouse where a particularly plentiful patch of catnip grew. However, Gladys was never one to miss meal time, and when the time came to 30 minutes after her usual feeding time, you knew something was amiss. With a sigh, you made your way out to your common room where you saw Cho sitting by the fireplace with several other of your class mates.

“Has anyone seen Gladys wandering about? She missed feeding time and I haven’t seen her much today,” you say as you approach the group.

“I haven’t, sorry y/n. We’ll keep a look out for her though,” Cho tells you.

You let out a small sigh of disappointment.

“Thanks Cho,” you say before heading out to wander the halls of the castle, hoping to find your elusive, black cat.

You start out by the greenhouse where you see a whole gaggle of cats, but none with the sleek black coat that identified your furry friend. You then walked around the grounds a bit more with no luck, before moving on to the kitchens where several of the house elves promised to keep an eye out for the small black cat. You even checked several empty class rooms before coming to a stop outside the library. It wouldn’t hurt to check. Twenty minutes later, you were still completely out of luck. Tired and frustrated, you were about to call it a night when a loud chorus of voices turn down the hall. You look to see who it was and find a hoard of Slytherin boys making their way towards you. You recognized them of course, but didn’t exactly know them. What you did know however, was the mop of black fur one of the taller boys in the back of the group was holding.

“Gladys!” You exclaim, rushing towards the group of boys.

Their eyes all turn towards you and at the sound of her name, the fiesty black cat springs from the arms of the boy and runs towards you.

With a large grin of relief, you scoop the cat up into your arms, feeling her light purr as you scratch behind her ears. Feeling several pairs of eyes on you, you look up to see the group of boys still staring at you and your cat.

“Um, thanks, for finding my cat,” you say awkwardly, squeezing the cat to your chest lightly. The tall, brunette boy who had just been holding your cat only nods silently before turning and walking off, the rest of the group following, except one.

“Hey, sorry about Theo. He means well, really. Man really likes cats, but doesn’t have one of his own, so he sometimes makes friends with cats wandering the halls. We’ve all told him that he should probably stop, ah, borrowing, people’s cats, but he can’t seem to resist. Names Enzo by the way,” the boy says with a friendly smile, extending his hand out.

You take his hand, shaking it cautiously before a smile creeps it’s way onto your face.

“Thank you, Enzo.” You say, hesitating a moment before adding, “You know, Gladys is a picky bitch. Theo must be a pretty okay person if she let him carry her around.” You tell him before disappearing with your cat.

The second time your cat went missing, you honestly didn't realize she was missing at all. Theo had found his way down to the kitchens about a week after the original cat incident. That's how he thought of it anyway. The kitchens were one of his favorite places to lurk as not many students knew of the secret entrance behind one particular painting of a fruit bowl. The real attraction that often drew the brunette boy to the hidden sanctuary however, was the constant stream of cats that often visited the house elves who happily offered up dishes of cream and other treats. Plopping himself down on the floor next to a particularly populated bowl of milk, Theo's eyes were immediately drawn to a familiar set of glowing yellow orbs.

"Hello there, Gladys," he said hesitantly, decently sure that was the name called out by the pretty Ravenclaw girl who had stolen the cat from him a few nights ago.

Well, stolen in this case was rather relative, as the cat was technically hers, he supposed. Hearing her name however, the little black cat pranced over, nuzzling her head affectionately against his leg with a soft purr. Picking the sweet creature up into his arms, Theo stroked her soft fur, thinking back to his encounter with her owner, a grimace reaching his face.

He had been a downright bloody idiot. That was for certain. Theo was not usually one to be rendered incompetent by the mere presence of a pretty girl. No. That was meant more for Enzo. Or even Draco sometimes. But never Theodore. In fact, Theo had quite the reputation for his tendency to sleep around which made the idea of his mind completely blanking at the sight of this cat's owner all the more embarrassing. Matteo had made fun of him ruthlessly later that night. What had he said again? Right. Absolutely nothing. Just nodded like a right dunce.

The only solace Theo had gotten from that night was when Enzo pulled him aside quietly and told him what the pretty girl from earlier had said about him. "He must be pretty okay." It was hardly a compliment, but after the fool he'd made of himself, it really was the best Theo could hope for. Shaking the thoughts from his mind, Theo once again focused on the little beast snuggling contentedly in his arms, carefully scratching behind the ears, a spot he'd found the cat quite liked.

The sound of the entrance painting swinging open startled Theo; and he honestly wasn't sure if he was elated, or absolutely mortified that the very girl who had been previously plaguing his thoughts was stepping through into the kitchens.

You honestly weren't entirely surprised to see the boy from a few nights ago sitting on the floor, cradling your cat, when you entered the kitchens. After Enzo had admitted to you that the handsome brunette had a soft spot for the castle's feline population, you figured it was only a matter of time until you bumped into him here considering it was a hot spot for the four legged beasts.

"Hello. See you've managed to find my cat again," you say, offering a small smile to the boy in front of you. After your encounter with that particular group of Slytherins, you did a bit of asking around, finding that Theodore Nott, while a bit known for his escapades with the female population, was actually one of the more talented wizards of your year. And one of the more level headed. (But in comparison to Draco and Matteo, you weren't exactly sure how much credit to give him there.)

The boy blinks up at you once before seeming to find his voice.

"She's a sweet little thing," he says finally, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but you.

You cautiously move forward, more worried about spooking the boy in front of you than the cats. Sitting down, you allow a pretty little Siamese kitten to wander into your lap. Gladys hisses with jealousy, but remains snuggled in the arms of the boy.

"She really seems to like you. Bit surprising. She's really not much of a people person," you tell him.

Theo nods at you, an action you found yourself growing familiar with.

"Enzo told me." He replies curtly.

You open your mouth to respond, but don't quite know how, so you let an awkward silence roll over the two of you.

"Well, I find that Gladys is a very good judge of character," you say finally.

Theo lets out a small smile at this, continuing to stroke your cat's soft fur. After that, the two of you fall into a comfortable silence with Theodore continuing to shower your cat with affection while you distract the many other felines, crowding the kitchen floor.

"Theo?" you wonder finally, the question burning away at you. The boy looks up, and you find yourself getting lost in the surprisingly soft brown eyes staring back at you. Breaking from the trance with a small shiver, you ask, "If you like cats so much, why don't you have one of your own?"

Theo's eyes immediately fall, and his hand freezes mid pet, much to Gladys' dismay. A pang of guilt washes through you.

"My father isn't much of an animal person," He replies stiffly.

You give him a small nod in response before rising from the floor.

"It's getting pretty late, I should get going," you say softly. "Gladys can find her way back to the tower on her own just fine," you add when you see Theo make no move to release the cat.

Without another word, you move to open the portrait door. You enter the hall with a small smile gracing your lips as you hear his voice quietly as the door closes.

"Thank you, y/n."

He knew your name.

The next time Theo met Gladys was much sooner than he expected. He had left the kitchens several hours ago and was now laying in bed. The clock sitting on his bed side now read 1am. The deafening silence was about to finally lull him to sleep when an insistent scratching at the door caused his eyes to fly open. Sitting up, Theo glanced at the door warily before finally deciding to cross the room to find out what was causing the noise.

As soon as the door opened, a black shadow darted through, making a beeline for his bed. How it seemed to know exactly where it was going, Theo had no clue. Making his way silently back to his bed, careful not to wake either of his roommates, Theo was finally able to make out the dark shape of an ever familiar black cat.

"Hi there, principessa," he whispered, gently stroking the cat's ears before crawling into the bed next to it. Gladys seemed to take this as an invitation to curl up in the nook of his arm, and Theo wasn't about to object. The last thought he remembered before drifting off was how nice it would be if Gladys' pretty owner was there too.

"Theo, what the fuck."

Theo woke with a start, to the loud voice of Lorenzo Berkshire ringing out above him. His eyes opened to see the other boy hovering over his bed, a look of shocked confusion apparent on his face.

"Is that y/n's cat?" he asks, leaning down as if to get a closer look at the fluff ball still snuggled in Theo's arms.

"No way," Matteo laughs from the other side of the room. "You stole her cat again? What, is this some sick and twisted new way for you to lure girls into your bed?"

Theo launches a pillow at Matteo's head. He doesn't miss.

"You better go return that thing before y/n starts to worry," Enzo advises, going back to his own side of the room. "And maybe just ask her out while you're at it hmm?" He adds, quickly ducking behind his fourposter before Theo has the chance to send another pillow flying his way.

With a heavy sigh, Theo comes to a stop outside of what he's pretty sure is the Ravenclaw common room. He's about to raise his hand to knock, when the golden eagle head mounted to the door springs to life.

"What gets broken, without being held?" The eagle asks, blinking at him slowly.

Right. Theo knew about this. The most annoying of the common room doors because instead of a password, the bloody door required you to answer a riddle. Theo was about to turn on his heel to leave when he felt a light presence behind him.

"Hello Theo. Hello Gladys." The platinum blonde haired girl said, giving the two of them an airy nod, before turning her attention to the door. "Would it perhaps be, a promise?" she asks.

The door swings open and Theo quickly hurries after the girl, making his way up the staircase. He'd never actually been inside the Ravenclaw common room, and his breath hitched when they reached the top of the stairs. The main room really was magnificent, nothing like the dark, eerie dungeons of the Slytherin common room. Theo eyed the shelves of books lining the wall longingly.

"Her room is just there, up and to the left," the blonde girl he'd followed in says, breaking him from his thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Y/n? Her room is just there," the girl repeats, gesturing to a door at the top of another small flight of stairs.

"Oh. thanks," Theo makes out, giving the girl a nod of gratitude.

"Name's Luna by the way. Luna Lovegood." She says whimsically before floating off.

With a deep inhale to calm his nerves, Theo makes his way up the stairs and knocks gently on the door. Gladys lets out a meow of protest. Absolutely nothing could have prepared Theo for what was on the other side of the door. He felt his throat go completely dry as the door swung open and you stood in front of him in what was probably the shortest, skimpiest set of clothing that could possibly be considered pajamas. Theo tried not to stare, he really did, but he was only a man. A very weak and smitten man.

"Oh! There you are Gladys. I wondered where you wandered off to last night!" you say looking at your cat and then back up at Theo, and then again at your cat before looking back up at Theo expectantly. "Um. May I have my cat back?"

Theo jolts back to life, realizing he'd been staring and looks at you sheepishly.

"Sorry, don't know how this little one found me. Snuck her way into the Slytherin common room and then into my dorm. Didn't want to leave her in the halls alone, so I let her stay the night," he tells you.

You stare at the boy in shock, realizing that was the longest string of words you'd ever heard out of him.

"Wow Theodore, I'm impressed. I think that's the most I've ever heard you talk. And here I was thinking you were secretly illiterate," you say with a playful grin.

"Please," the boy scoffs. "I'm the picture of eloquence."

Interested in where this sudden burst of confidence that you didn't normally see from him had come from, you take a step back, inviting him into your room. He hesitantly accepts your invitation, bringing Gladys along with him.

"No roommates?" he asks, perching on the edge of your bed as Gladys purrs softly on his lap. At the moment, you found nothing more attractive than this man absolutely pampering your beloved pet.

"Not many Ravenclaw girls in our year, we had the option to share, but most of us opted for solo rooms. Wanted the extra privacy, I suppose," you tell him, leaning on one of the posts at the end of your bed.

Theo nods his head at this.

"I have two roommates," he shares.

"One of them happen to be Enzo Berkshire?"

Theo nods again. "And Matteo. Riddle" he adds.

You cock your head at that with a grin.

"Interesting pairing," you comment, imagining the chaos those two must bring with them.

"It never gets boring," Theo responds.

A moment of silence passes.

"I was wondering if you wanted to study together sometime. I hear you're exceptionally talented at potions. And Charms. And everything really." Theo lets out finally.

You raise an eyebrow at the boy, internally screaming.

Trying to keep your cool, you tilt your head, "I hear you are too."

It's like a switch flips inside Theo.

"Well, we're obviously perfect for each other than," He replies easily, a cocky grin beginning to spread across his face. "Meet you in the library tomorrow at 7? And bring the cat."

You let out a laugh as Theo rises from the bed, gently placing Gladys down on the pillow, before going to make his way out of your dorm.

"You only like me for my cat," you joke, shifting to watch as he crosses the room to the door.

"Not just for your cat," he assures you, "I love the outfit, wear it for me more often, hmm?" he says slyly before the door thuds shut behind him.

You look down at your outfit, jaw dropping open and heat rushing to your cheeks.

Theo's head was pounding. Music pumped through the Slytherin common room and Theo could barely see through the crowds of people around him as he pushed his way to the circle of sofas occupied by his friends. Collapsing into a spot next to Matteo, the boy offered him another shot of who-knew-what which he quickly knocked back.

"When's that pretty little thing that's been occupying all your time gonna join us at one of our little gathering?" Matteo slurs out, gesturing to the large crowd around them.

Over the past several weeks, you and Theo had grown significantly closer; your first study date quickly becoming a daily occurrence as you found that you each were able to easily keep up with one another. Something about having a partner who was actually able to challenge you was exhilarating. From there, you found yourselves often seeking each other out simply for the sake of good company, Gladys largely increasing the number of these meetings.

"Don't know that Gladys would like it. Cat's aren't supposed to ingest alcohol," Theo responded, not quite drunk enough to fall for his friend's taunting.

Enzo places another shot in his hand, and Theo raises a brow at him, before knocking that one back as well.

"Did you ever ask y/n why in Salazar's name, she choose to name her cat Gladys?" Matteo asks. "If my name were Gladys, I'd being running off constantly too."

Theo thumps Matteo on the back of the head.

"You leave our cat out of this, she ain't do nothin wrong," he says, glaring at his friend.

"So now she's our cat is she?" Enzo asks, a smirk growing on his face. "Didn't know you and y/n were so serious."

"It's our cat damnit! If marrying y/n is what it takes to finally have a cat of my own, so be it," Theo says decidedly.

Enzo snorts at his clearly, very drunk friend. "Careful, or one might think you're only into her for her cat. And not the cunty kind."

Theo scowls at this. "Y/n says that all the time, but have you seen that ass? And the way she mopped the floor with Draco in potions the other day? She's perfect."

"Yeah? Why don't you go tell her that then?" Matteo says, wanting nothing more than to see a drunk Theo try to make his way to Ravenclaw Tower.

"You know what? I will. And I'll pet Gladys too." Theo states. A look of pure, intoxicated determination set on his face.

Lorenzo eyes his friend warily. While not exactly sober himself, he didn’t particularly like the look his friend was giving them.

“Aw c’mon Enz, don’t you try and be the voice of reason now,” Matteo drawls, sensing the hesitation coming from his friend. “Don’t you want to meet the lil thing our beloved Theodore has been obsessing over for weeks now?”

“I’m not obsessing,” Theo snaps, taking a sip straight out of a random bottle he’d picked up from the table.

“Let’s go. I’m gonna steal her cat. For real this time.”

With a wide grin, Matteo jumps up, ready to follow his friend wherever the night took him. With a low groan, Enzo followed suit, knowing that his pair of roommates would need some sort of guidance to prevent them from walking themselves straight of the edge of the astronomy tower.

You didn’t have a lot of expectations for the quiet Friday night that you were spending curled up with a book and your cat. It was late, and after a long and stressful week, the time alone with Gladys was just what you needed to really recharge. You had spent most of your day lounging out on the lawn next to the Black Lake with Theodore, studying with and harassing the boy. A small smile crept onto your face, remembering the way his brown curls had floated about in the soft breeze.

You really hadn’t expected for the two of you to become so close, so quickly, but you weren’t complaining. You’d grown quite fond of the boy, especially once he started opening up a bit more. You’d initially thought that he was a man of very few words, but quickly learned he was in fact very sharp witted and even a bit snarky at times. Time spent with him had easily become your favorite part of the day and was something you were constantly looking forward to.

A sharp knock jolted you from your thoughts, causing you to jump a bit where you were sitting, Gladys letting out a yowl of protest.

You quickly cross the room and open the door to find a very miffed looking Cho, a frown imbedded on her face.

“Sorry to bother, but could you please come get your boy under control? He’s upsetting the portraits.” She says.

You blink once. Then again.

“Sorry?”

“Your Slytherin fellow? He’s out in the corridor with two of his friends harassing the door,” she explains, turning to lead you down the spiral staircase.

You’re not even halfway down when you begin to hear the voices.

“Who in the bloody hell would want to be in Ravenclaw with this blast-ended skewt ass looking-“

“Matteo you can’t curse out the door.”

“I’ll curse at the bloody door if I want to bloody curse at it.”

You grimace, looking at Cho who looks back with a similarly displeased facial expression.

“Sorry bout them. I’ll take it from here,” you tell her when you reach the bottom.

With a slight nod, she turns to retreat back up the stairs. With a sigh, you push the door open, almost taking out Matteo who had been leaning on it for support.

“Hi amore, fancy seeing you here,” Theo slurs, a grin taking over his face at the sight of you.

Enzo leans against a pillar, face in hands, looking like he wanted to disappear. You could smell the alcohol on all of them.

“Hi Theodore. Are you sober?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

“I’m moderately functional,” he replies with a lopsided smile.

“I’m taking that as a no,” you say, glancing worriedly at Matteo who was currently laying spread eagle on the floor. “Let’s get you boys back to your common room.”

“I wouldn’t. Party’s not gonna end any time soon. They’ll just get more hammered and start wandering off again,” Enzo advises, head still in hands. “Like herding hippogriffs with those two.”

“And Theo hasn’t proclaimed his undying love for y/n yet!” Matteo adds.

You feel heat rise to your cheeks and Theo glowers at his friend.

“It’s okay Theo, I know he’s drunk,” you say, not certain if you were saying it more to comfort him or yourself.

Theo ignores you however, turning his attention back to the door.

“Let us in, I just want to pet the cat,” he tells the door, swaying ever so slightly.

For Salazar’s sake. Man gets absolutely wasted and just wants to pet your cat. You go to grab onto Theo to steady him, but he has other plans. Immediately, he wraps his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your hair.

“Hi,” he mumbles, picking you up just enough that your toes barely touch the ground. “I missed you. Can we see the cat now?”

Not knowing what else to do, you glance helplessly at Enzo.

“Would you be able to get Matteo up the stairs?” You ask.

“I can try. He’s a stubborn bastard though.”

You turn back to the door, knocking once. The eagle once again moves to life, glaring at the scene in front of it.

“If the day before yesterday was the 23rd, what is the day after tomorrow?” It asks crankily.

“We’re too fucking wasted for this bloody bullshit,” Matteo moans from the floor.

You try to ignore Theo’s tight grasp on your waist and Enzo prodding at Matteo with his foot before answering. “The 27th.”

The door swings open and you try your best to haul Theo through, Enzo following closely behind with a very disgruntled Matteo. Dragging the boys up the staircase feels like the most difficult task of your life as you constantly tell Matteo to lower his voice and mind his mouth while also trying to ignore the very minimal distance between yourself and Theodore. When you finally make it to the top, you rush to herd the boys into your room before slamming the door shut behind you with relief. Theo immediately stumbles over to your bed, collapsing face first in the middle and snatching Gladys into his arms.

“No roommates?” Enzo asks, looking around the room and seeing the single empty bed that you had pushed into the corner at the beginning of the year.

“No, thank Rowena. I would not want to have to explain whatever this is.” You reply, motioning to Theo and Matteo who was now wandering about the room.

“Room’s a mess. Coulda at least cleaned up a bit,” he says, poking at the various books and blank scrolls lying about.

“Had I known I would be having guests at,” you glance at the clock, “almost 2 in the morning, I’m sure I would have.” You say dryly.

Retrieving your wand from your desk, you point it at the spare bed. “Engorgio.” The wooden frame creaks as it expands until it can comfortably fit 2 people. You look at Enzo.

“Good luck with that one,” you say, almost feeling sorry for the boy as Matteo flops onto the bed with a groan.

“Looks like you’re gonna need it more than me,” he replies, gesturing to Theo who was out cold, Gladys trapped and bug eyed in his grasp. With a sigh you and Enzo each resign yourselves to your respective charge.

“Theodore,” you whisper, giving the boy a light shove. No sign of life. You give him a slightly harder shove, allowing Gladys is wriggle out of her prison. Frowning, you sit down on the edge of the bed, using most of your body weight to shove Theo to one side of the bed before sliding under the covers. Now deeming it safe, Gladys hops back into the bed, nestling into your arms happily. You’re about to close your eyes when you feel arms snaking around your waste, pulling you into the very warm chest of Theodore Nott. You freeze, holding your breath, not sure if the boy is asleep or not.

“Goodnight mi amore,” he whispers into your neck, causing the hairs to prickle.

Definitely not asleep.

“Goodnight Theodore.”

You hadn’t had any expectations for the night really, but you definitely had not expected to have multiple overnight guests who were trying to steal your cat. And you most certainly did not expect to drift off in the arms of Theodore Nott.

The next morning you wake up missing the usual lump of fur weighing down on your chest. Immediately you bolt upright, eyes shooting around for any sign of your furry companion before the events of last night wash over you. Enzo and Matteo are both still out cold and when you look down, your jaw drops open. Theo is fast asleep, back facing you, Gladys snoozing contentedly while cradled in his arms. Even in his sleep this absolute tosser had managed to steal your damn cat.

Careful not to wake the boys, or Gladys, you silently sneak across the room and disappear out the door. Once you’re safely out of hearing distance, you make your way quickly down the kitchens. A little known fact about the Hogwarts house elves was that many had once served in the homes of different wizarding families at one time or another. This meant that many of the elves were all too familiar with the valuable hangover potion that you sought.

Ducking in through the portrait hole, it wasn’t difficult to persuade the elves into handing over 3 glistening blue vials. You had always been kind to them, often chatting with them during your visits with the cats.

Your task complete, you made your way back to Ravenclaw tower, taking your time as you didn’t expect the boys to be up any time soon. They really had been plastered. Not even Enzo had been completely sober you recalled.

You’re just passing the entrance to the dungeons when a voice calls out.

“Hey! You!”

You’re ready to continue on your way before noticing that there was no one else in the corridor they could be referring to. You turn to see two girls you recognized as the Greengrass sisters hurrying towards you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” the shorter blonde girl says when they get closer. You’re pretty sure that one is Astoria. “You’re the girl Theo has been seeing right?”

You nod your head cautiously. You knew Theo had a reputation for getting around, so if that’s what this was about, things were about to become quite awkward.

“You haven’t happened to see him or Matteo or Lorenzo, have you?” The other girl, Daphne, asks.

“Draco said he saw the three of them leave the party together last night, but no one saw them come back,” Astoria explains.

You feel yourself immediately relax. Good. At least this was something you could help with.

“You two are lucky you found me then I suppose,” you tell them, gesturing for them to follow. “The three of them tried breaking into Ravenclaw tower last night, so I let them crash in my dorm.”

“Oh Salazar. Were they trying to steal your cat? I’m so sorry. When Matteo gets drunk he has a tendency to try and egg Theo on,” Astoria frets.

You give the girls a strange look. “You know about my cat?” You ask, surprised.

“Oh sure,” Daphne replies. “Whole group does really. Boys came back one night going on about how Theo was just smitten with some Ravenclaw with a cute cat. And I can see why. You’re gorgeous by the way.”

You blush at her statement, diverting the subject away.

“The boys should probably still be asleep. I just ran down to the kitchens to get these,” you tell them, brandishing the potions you had gathered. “Once they’ve downed these, they’re all yours.”

Astoria eyes the potions with jealousy and you realize the two girls were probably decently hung over as well.

“Oh you can keep Theo, we were really just looking to collect Enzo and Matt,” Daphne laughs, giving you a sly look. You open your mouth to reply, but stop realizing you had reached your common room door.

After a few attempts, you’re finally able to solve the blasted riddle and the door swings open.

“I don’t think we’ve ever had this many Slytherins in our common room before,” you joke, leading the girls up to your room.

Pushing the door open, you’re unsurprised to see the boys still passed out.

“This must be the infamous Gladys,” Daphne whispers, quietly approaching Theo who was still clutching onto Gladys as if his life depended on it. Again you’re surprised that these girls apparently even knew the name of your cat.

The two coo at the sight of your cat, coming to the conclusion that she was indeed worthy of warranting cat theft before Astoria finally decided it was time for them to get the boys out of your hair. They migrated over to the other side of the room where Enzo and Matteo were sound asleep, leaving you to deal with Theo.

You decide the easiest route, may just be to lure Gladys away, so you fetch her food dish before accio-ing her kibble container. At the sound of her food, Gladys was up and running, darting over for her morning feast. At the sudden loss of fluffy heat, Theo groaned, rolling over, face down into the pillows. After giving Gladys her food, you move back to Theo, giving him a rough shake.

“Come back to bed principessa,” he grumbles, reaching out and flailing his arm in your general direction.

“It’s time to get up Theodore. Come on, I got you three hangover potions,” you say, waving one over his head.

“Did someone say hangover potion? Give,” Matteo demands from the other side of the room. You look over to see Daphne and Astoria sitting on the side of the bed while Matteo and Enzo were groggily waking up.

Pulling out her wand, Daphne gestured for you to toss her the potions which her magic catches easily, levitating the vials over to the other two boys. Matteo snatches one out of the air, quickly downing half before offering the other half to Astoria. Enzo does the same, giving the second half to Daphne who graciously accepts. After a moment, the four of them are looking much more awake.

“Thanks for making sure these three didn’t drown themselves in the lake,” Astoria says, once the potion had really kicked. “And sorry you’re not having more luck with that one. He’s always been a late riser.”

“You’ll be lucky to get him up in the next hour,” Enzo agrees, rising from the bed. “Thanks again y/n.”

The four of them shuffle out of your dorm, a chorus is thanks and apologies strung along until they reached the door. Even Matteo gave you a nod of gratitude. Once they were all gone, you collapse once more onto your bed.

“They finally gone?” You hear Theo ask, as he rolls over to look at you. You nod, faces so close that your noses are practically touching and you can feel small puffs of air as he exhales. “Thanks for last night. I’m sorry for trying to steal your cat.”

You let out a snort at that. “Did you know when I woke up this morning, you had turned away from me completely, and stolen my cat away from me in your sleep?” You ask with a laugh.

Theo at least has the decency to look embarrassed as Gladys joins the two of you once more.

“I should do this more often,” Theo says finally, reaching out to stroke Gladys’s fur.

“What? Get downright plastered and break into my room, or steal my cat?” You scoff.

“Sleep in your bed with you.”

You freeze, looking up to see if the boy was being serious. His eyes blink back at you unwavering.

“You can come back any time,” you tell him, snuggling your way into his chest, ready to fall back asleep in the boy’s arms.

“Will Gladys be here?”

“Oh my god, yes she will be here,” you say dramatically throwing your head back.

Theo grins down at you, leaning in and pressing his lips softly against yours.

“I’m only joking amore,” he says, pressing another kiss to the top of your nose.

“Of course Gladys would be here, she adores me.”

“Get out of my bed.”

A/N

My biggest regret in life, is being highly allergic to cats </3

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abbyromanoff · 3 months

Note

hi!!! is it okay to request R (18) having a crush on her professor which is Nat (either 27 or like around 30s) then Nat heard about it because of the gossips so she confronts reader abt it although reader have the upper hand defending herself yet nat was able to pin her and they kissed—thats the last time they saw each other not until they had a reunion during reader's college years

sorry if this is kinda long😭

SEE ME AFTER CLASS

PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 781

WARNINGS: all are 18+ teacher x student relationship, professor x student relationship, kinda stalking, angst, fluff, and some heated moments yall

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

You were fucked, to say the least. You had never been called to stay after by a teacher, but here you stood, eyes shot wide, lips slightly agape as you nodded slowly to Ms. Romanoff’s request.

“You’re probably wondering why I had you stay after with me today,” You nodded once again, and she chuckled while leaning forward on her elbows, unconventionally pushing her breasts further together in your view.

“Well, you’re not in trouble, sweetheart.” She helped ease the tension, and your breath of release caused your eyes to flutter shut, your hand coming to your chest as you feared the worst.

“But, there is something I’d like to talk to you about. There seems to be a rumor lurking around the school, and with your popularity, it only took a short time to reach me.” She suddenly stood from her seemingly comfortable chair and placed herself on the edge of the desk in front of you, leaning down to place a hand on her knee as the other found your chin. While you were both of legal age, considering that you were forced to stay back in the fifth grade when your parents had to move halfway into the school year for your father's work, this was still wrong. You were a senior, she was your teacher. And even though you were near graduation with your final week approaching, you were still hefty about the consequences this action could have.

“Uhm, Ms. Romanoff,”

“Call me Nat,”

“I- I don’t exactly think that is appropriate, I don’t think any of this is appropriate.” You began to stand but were quickly forced back down with her incredible strength, and you nearly whimpered at the contact.

“Shh, baby, no one needs to know, okay? It’s just me and you in here; besides, aren’t you the one with that little crush on me?” Your eyes shot wide, your stance faltering as you failed to explain yourself.

“C’mon, all I’m asking is one little kiss before I have to see my favorite student go,”

And that’s all it was, at first. It started with a small kiss. Only once, never again. But then it came again, and her lips drew you in again and again and again. Up until your day on the podium where you thanked multiple people, her being one of them. That’s where you ended it.

When your parents waited in their car and everyone began piling out, you dragged her behind the school, crying through small pecks as you two said your goodbyes. You expected it to be your last. But then you walked into your fourth class on the second day of college, you were yet to have this class the day prior. It was fresh, the faces were all new, except the professors.

“Nat?” She turned suddenly hearing your voice, smiling widely when seeing you.

“I didn’t believe it when I saw your name on my roster, but it’s true.” She began rushing towards you, thankful for your early arrival. You put your hands on her chest to back her away, causing her to hold a confused raise of her brow.

“What is it? I know we ended things but- but I’m here, and so are you, we’re back together again.” You shook your head with a scoff, your gaze falling to the floor before she lifted your chin to look her in the eye, and goosebumps ran down your skin as you recalled the previous encounters just like this moment.

“Y/N, we ended things because you were going to college and we would be too far. So I moved, and I got a job here, I’ve had the skills and degrees to be a professor and now it’s all finally working out for the best.” She paused, brushing the hair out of your face before cupping your cheeks lovingly.

“We can be together again, Y/N, we don’t have to fear it. We’ll have to hide it for a few years, but that’s all. Outside of these doors, we can be whatever we want to be, I don’t care about the age difference or the looks or the judgement, I only care about you. I love you, sweet girl.”

“Y/N? Y/N!” Your head shot up in a hurry, your mind quickly investigating the surrounding area until you registered where you were.

“You keep falling asleep in my class, and I’m beginning to grow quite concerned,” You faced the older woman who had a small smirk plastering her lips. She leaned in a little bit closer, and you hoped it did not look so promiscuous to others.

“Please see me after class, honey, we need to have a chat.”

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runnning-outof-time · 3 months

Note

Hi K, I hope you’re doing well!🤍

I just wanted to make another request, if that’s alright with you. “I’ll break before I bend.” with Tommy?

Loving your blurbs by the way!

Thanks for sending this in, Reb @peakyswritings ! I’m sorry it took me a bit to write it — I hope you like what I did with it! I decided to use my family from my Girl Dad series because it’s been too long since I’ve written for them (a thank you goes out to the anon who messed me a little while ago asking about them). Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

Just Some Puppy Love

Tommy Shelby x Reader (family from the Girl Dad series)

Warnings: none - just Tommy being overprotective of his daughter

Word Count: 922

Summary: Tommy’s unhappy about the fact that his eight year old daughter, Thea, has caught the interest of a boy in her class. (Y/N) tries to tell him that he’s overreacting.

“How was school today, darling?” (Y/N) asked her daughter as the she entered the home.

“It was great, mum!” Thea answered, a beaming smile on her face. “I even got to see Evie’s class during lunch!” she added, turning to look at her younger sister, who was nodding profusely.

“That sounds lovely,” (Y/N) smiled, thanking the family’s driver, who tipped his cap at her before returning to the vehicle. “Did anything else exciting happen?” she asked no girl in particular as the three went into the front room.

“Billy was being very nice to me! We played together at recess, and he even shared his purple crayon because mine was too little to use,” Thea was the first to speak up.

“Uncle Arthur’s Billy?” (Y/N) asked out of curiosity. She didn’t think that the cousins were in the same class, but she could have seen him during some other point in the day.

“No, Billy from my class,” Thea chirped while collecting her papers from her bookbag, “he’s always very nice to me. Sometimes we even hold hands and walk around the playground.”

“Oh,” (Y/N) drew out the word, nodding her head slowly. Thea said this in such a nonchalant way; like her mum was supposed to know about this beforehand.

“I scored the highest on my maths test today, mummy!” Evie jumped into the conversation, a beaming smile now present on her face.

“That’s lovely to hear, Evie,” (Y/N) smiled at the little girl while looking at Thea - who had now started on her homework - through the corner of her eye.

Boy, oh boy did she have something to tell Tommy this evening.

“The girls are all down?” Tommy asked as his wife entered his office later that night.

“Juniper fused a little, but they’re all asleep now,” she answered him with a smile as she made her way over to her usual spot on the chaise lounge. She couldn’t help but purse her lips to hide her smile as she finally made eye contact with him.

“What?” Tommy asked, catching onto her expression rather quickly.

“Nothin’,” she brushed him off, glancing down at her fingernails as she picked them.

“You can’t just send that expression my way and then say that it’s nothing,” he commented.

“Well I’ve just done that,” she countered.

“Tell me, (Y/N),” he demanded, his voice dropping to a low level.

“It’s nothing…” she started looking to him again, watching as his mouth opened to argue with the words she said. She continued before he could, “but you’re going to make a big deal over it.”

“Over what?” he asked with furrowed brows.

“Thea might have a boy in her class that fancies her.”

“No,” Tommy shot the idea down within seconds, “impossible.”

“Quite possible considering she told me all about it when she came home this afternoon,” (Y/N) commented. “It’s not a big deal,” she brushed the matter off then.

“Oh but it is. She’s only eight. The boys in school don’t need to be fancying her,” he insisted.

“She is eight, Tommy. There’s no harm in a little puppy love,” she flipped the narrative. Tommy didn’t seem to be buying it. “Besides, they’re not even…”

“Oi, I’m being serious here,” he cut into her defense, his eyes wide, “I’ll break before I bend on this one, (Y/N). No boys. Not for a long time.”

(Y/N) looked at her husband with pursed lips. The intense expression that he was wearing surely worked on his adversaries, but it did nothing to her. “You’re being dramatic about this,” she stated after a few moments had passed.

“I’m not,” he shook his head.

“You are,” she doubled down with a nod. “There’s no reason for a response like that. It’s not like she’s going to go and marry this boy tomorrow. They’re just holding hands on the playground and sharing crayons in class,” she explained the reality of the situation. One look in his direction told her that he wasn’t quite convinced. With a sigh, she stood from her chair. “I know…” she started, moving around his desk so that she could rest her hands on his shoulders, “she’s your first born…your little girl.”

“She is,” Tommy answered in a huff, pressing the pads of his fingers into his eyes.

(Y/N) paused for a few beats, leaning down to rest her chin on top of his head as she looked at the photograph of their three girls that sat on his desk. “You don’t need to be worrying about this stuff right now,” she said in a soft voice as she clasped her hands together over his chest. She heard him sigh as he rested his head against her arm. A smile graced her lips as she thought of something to add, “you have another ten years, at least.”

“(Y/N). Don’t,” his voice was low, the two words coming out in a warning. She couldn’t stop herself from giggling anyway.

“I’m teasing you, Tommy,” she told him, pressing her lips to his hair.

“I know. But I still don’t appreciate it,” he answered her, his voice soft now as he turned his head and pressed a similar kiss to the skin of her arm.

(Y/N) smiled at the gesture. This wouldn’t be the last conversation about boys fancying their daughters that they would have. But she knew that Tommy would do whatever it took to make sure that his girls were safe and got the best.

*tags in reblogs so that they hopefully get sent out

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby blurb #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #k’s 3.5k celebration

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brodieland · 2 months

Text

.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 Can we finally call a Truce? ´ˎ˗

Percy Jackson x Fem!Hades!Reader Synopsis: The two were sworn enemies like three days ago, now what are they doing ??? Warning(s): some swearing Word Count: 2728

╰➤ MASTERLIST pt3

When you woke up, you didn't recognize the room at first. You went to sit up when you noticed something weighing you down. You looked down and saw an arm holding you by the waist. 'Oh my gods', you thought when you realized it was Percy holding you close. You leaned over to the nightstand and grabbed your phone to check the time.

[9:32] AM

As you saw the time, and started to freak out. "PERCY" you turned over and shouted. You did your best to shake Percy awake. That only caused him to yawn and move in even closer. 'Why NOW.' You continued to shake him till you threw him off the bed.

"OW, what the hell Y/N" Percy shouted.

"Percy, we have class together today! And it starts in twenty minutes" you yelled upset.

"Shit" Percy said as he stood up and quickly grabbed some clothes to change.

"Percy, can I borrow some clothes. I don't think I can go out like this" you rambled off as you looked down at what you were wearing. A pair of shorts and a sports bra.

Percy looked at you up and down before saying, "yeah um, for sure. Grab whatever you want" then walked out the room. And you did. You grabbed a pair of baggy jeans and a hoodie. After you finished changing you ran out to find Percy waiting for you.

"Thanks for waiting" you said rushing toward him.

"No problem." You two were now running to try and make on time. Sadly, since you guys had to swing by your place to grab your bag, you guys were about two minutes late. You both ran in during attendance, absolutely winded and out of breathe from running all the way there. After apologizing for being late, you took your seat next to Annabeth, whose eyes were so wide they might pop out, and Percy took his seat in front of you.

40 minutes go bye and suddenly a paper hits your desk. It was a note from Annabeth. 'why did u come in late w/ Percy????? did something happen ur not telling me???'

You then wrote on the other side of the note, 'you can wait 20 minutes ;3.' You drew a penis before you slid the note back. This earned you an angry glare, but she accepted it.

Finally, class ended. But now you have to explain to Annabeth. After you both made sure you were out of earshot from Percy, Annabeth started asking questions.

"Why were you late with Percy, and what the HADES, are you wearing" Annabeth said really fast. Breathe girl.

"So um, last night I couldn't sleep. So, I texted Percy if he was up so I can come over, and he was up, so I went over. Anyways so I got there and we were just hanging out and talking till it got late. And since I was really tired Percy let me sleep over so.. yeah, that's all that happened." You finished explaining.

"Hm, okay if that's what you say, but why are you wearing Percy's clothes. And don't even deny it because I KNOW your closet" Annabeth said while sticking her fingers in the air.

"I cant come to class in shorts and a sports bra now can I?" you questioned sarcastically.

"I wouldn't mind" Silena snuck up from behind the two of you, causing you both to jump.

"Gods you scared me" you said.

"OH MY GODS SILENA YOUR HERE" Annabeth screamed.

"Please tell me your going to explain Y/N's choice of clothes" Silena eyed you up and down with a raised eyebrow.

"I slept at Percy's dorm. Nothing happened so you both can calm yourselves" you stated.

"Nothing happened but you went over in basically nothing, now tell me where exactly you slept" Annabeth question. You know she kind of had you with that. You went silent for a little bit, making the two girls in front of you smile, knowing the answer.

"So his bed" Silena and Annabeth said in unison.

"I HAVE A PAPER TO TURN IN, GOODBYE" you shouted as you left the scene. The pair were cackling behind you as you almost tripped on the jeans that were a little to long for you. You made it to class and turned in your paper then took a seat. Class starts and its horrendously boring. Halfway through class, you get a text from Nico.

'DID YOU AT LEAST LISTEN TO ME'

What?? You texted him back.

'What are you talking about??'

A minute goes by and he responds.

'when I said be safe of course'

THIS GUYYYY.

'im gonna fight you, I did nothing of the sort'

"Ms. Y/L/N, is there a reason you are on your phone as I lecture" your teacher asked.

"Um, no. Sorry sir" you apologized.

"Please go spend the rest of class in library." Bro, again?? Twice in three days? You didn't argue as you packed up your things and left. As you walked toward the library, you passed by Percy's class and looked through the window on the door. You saw Percy and he looked so bored it was funny. You thought you'd be the amazing friend you are and get him out.

You walked into the class and spoke up. "Excuse me Mrs. Ariti, Mr. Gabris is asking to see Percy" you made eye contact with Percy as you said that. He was trying not to laugh as you blatantly lied.

"Of course, Mr. Jackson you're excused." And with that Percy and you rushed out of class.

"Nice going Y/N, gods that class was literally rotting my brain" Percy shook his head while talking.

"Consider me your night in shining armor" you pointed to yourself with your thumbs. Percy just smiled at you.

"Yeah, yeah whatever you say." You both started walking around campus talking like normal. You notice Percy keeps looking at you, or looking your body.

"Like what you see Jackson, you want a picture to go with it" you joked. You could've sworn his face got warm.

"You look good with my clothes on" Percy said. Now you went a little warm. That was just really bold of him. "Aw is someone a little nervous" Percy teased.

"Nervous? Never, who are you" you turned away.

"Never she says, whatever floats your boat" Percy said. "If you're gonna treat me like this then you can give me my clothes back." Percy pulled your back toward his chest as he jokingly pulled at your/his hoodie.

"Excuse why you trying to get me naked right now" You yelled. Percy rushed him arm from behind you and slapped it on your mouth to shut up. This caused you to laugh and whip around. You didn't realize how close the both of you were until now. You two were barely inches apart with your hands on his chest and his over your shoulders.

"Hey" you whispered.

"Hey" he whispered back.

That's when you noticed something, he was staring at your lips. You'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't think Percy was hot. You always did, he was just an annoying little shitter. But hey, you both were past that now. So, fuck it. You both started to lean in until..

'RING'

The bell rang, scaring the both of you. You both stepped away from each other. There was an awkwardness hanging in the air. No one said anything for a few moments. Thankfully, Percy spoke up.

"So." And that was it. What a way with words.

"Soo" you repeated.

"Would you want to hang out at my place later or" Percy said, he seemed a little shy and you found that funny.

"For sure" you smiled as you look up at him. You could Annabeth and Silena appear from the distance. "I'll see you then okay, bye Percy" you waved him off and he did the same.

"Hey guys" you said as you approached your friends.

"Hey Y/N, sorry to pull you away from your boyfriend" Silena said. You laughed.

"He's not my boyfriend, lets just go eat" you said. You guys made your way to get some food and sat next to each other like always. Silena and Annabeth were talking about who knows what while you sat their not saying anything and zoning out. You were busy thinking about, someone you didn't want to admit, Percy. What would have happened if the bell didn't ring. What'll happen when you go to to his dorm later. You were so deep in thought you didn't realize that the two girls in front of you have been calling your name.

"Y/N" Annabeth yelled as she threw a piece of bread at you, landing straight on your face.

"HEADSHOT" Silena exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air. You grabbed the bread and took an angry bite from it.

"Was that necessary" you said. They both nodded. "What did you need?"

"We need to know why your so quiet, and if we interrupted anything earlier" Silena asked.

"I mean, you didn't interrupt anything" you said with emphasize on the word 'you.' "The bell did though."

"What does that mean" Annabeth asked.

"It means I'm going to his place later" you said. Your friends just turned to each other and smirked. They side-eyed you as they did. "What?"

"Nothing" Annabeth said.

"Have fun on your date" Silena said. You rolled your eyes.

"Haha" you deadpanned. "its not a date. I'm gonna go now though, bye guys." As everyone said their goodbyes, you head back to your dorm. When you got there, you decided to bother Nico.

"Hey Nico." You slammed the door open to see Nico doing.. homework?

"I'm doing homework" Nico said like it was a normal thing I've seen him do.

"This is literally the first time I've ever seen you do homework" you stated as you jumped on his bed.

"You're a funny one aren't you" Nico said as he shut his laptop.

"Oh you were just waiting for a distraction weren't you" you both started laughing.

"Did you come in here just to bother me orr" Nico asked.

"Perhaps" you said smiling. "You know you love me."

"Yeah yeah sure. Anyways, what is that" Nico asked pointing to your outfit.

"Why is everyone so invested with my clothes holy shit" you shoved your head into a pillow. Nico just laughed at you.

"I'm just messing with you jeez. Are you hanging out with him again today." Why does he know me so well.

"Yeah I am actually" you said. "I almost kissed him" you admitted. You looked over to see Nico not even giving you a reaction. "Are you not gonna say anything? Not even a single emotion?"

"You say it like its a shocker anymore" Nico said. "Why didn't you?"

"The bell rang. Then it got awkward, but its fine" you said. You wondered if he was a good kisser. Then you got a text from Percy.

'I want a rematch from our hippocampi races'

You laughed at the message before replying.

'The fact you lost and these are literally your creatures is actually INSANEE. Your on though'

You jumped up from Nico's bed and saw him getting back to his homework. "Nico I'm gonna go now. Love you, bye."

"Love you too Y/N" Nico said, without looking up from his screen.

You ran into your room to put on a black bikini and just put Percy's clothes back on before heading over to his place. You walked up to his door and started banging on it like you were going to punch a hole through the door. Percy swung the door open.

"Are you being chased or something" He asked shocked.

"No, I just wanted to alert you of my presence" you said sweetly as you stepped inside.

"You alerted the whole campus of your presence, but okay" Percy said. "You ready to get destroyed?"

You looked at him with a smirk. "No your weird, you can go now" you both were bent over laughing now.

"Okay, okay lets go, and no I won't be getting destroyed" you said, air quotes on 'destroyed.' You guys made your way out to the beach and got into your bathing suits. When you got in and the water was at your shoulders, Percy did it again. Grabbed you close, this time felt different though. You didn't get a chance to think about it before Percy zoomed you both into deep water and called the hippocampi.

After you both mounted on, you guys started racing, with you winning again. At the last race, the sun started going down and your hippocampi was slowing down.

"She's starting to get tired." Percy said. "We're really far from shore, hop on mine." And you did. You sat right behind Percy and wrapped your arms around his waist, holding him close so you didn't fall off. All you could think about was the skin on skin contact between the two of you. Suddenly Percy turned around, making sure to hold on to you by your waist so you don't slip.

"Hey" he said.

"Hey" you returned.

You guys were just staring at each other. You were thinking about earlier, he seemed willingly to kiss you then. Would he still want to now? You caught yourself staring at his lips when he just leaned in and kissed you. You were kissing him back. And yeah, he was a good kisser, great one even. You started sliding closer, wrapping your legs around him with your arms around his neck. He was wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. You guys kept making out until you were out of breathe.

"I can't believe it" Percy smiled down at you.

"What" you laughed out.

"Just three days ago you were shouting at me in the middle of class about how much you wanted me dead. And here you now, making out with me" Percy teased. You playfully slapped his chest.

"I think I was hacked. Nico possessed me in my sleep" you joked.

"Oh really?" Percy was now jokingly trying to push you off. "How much do you mean that?" You were almost off the hippocampi and in the water.

"I don't mean it! Pull me back up" you shouted. And he did. You guys were quiet for a little bit. This time the silence wasn't uncomfortable.

"So what now?" Percy spoke up, you knew what he meant.

"I don't know" you admitted honestly. Its quiet again for a little bit.

"One date" Percy said. You looked up at him.

"What" you asked. Woah, he actually wanted to take you out?

"One actual date, something I should've taken you out on before the beef started" Percy said. Since before? You thought about it.

"Sure, one date" you were smiling now.

"Perfect" Percy agreed. You both now reached the shore and walked to grab your clothes.

"You want your clothes back" you asked.

"So you could walk back wearing that?" He pointed to your bathing suit. "Just give it back another day." You both got dressed, and Percy decided to be a gentleman and walk you back, like he did last time.

You reached back to your dorms. "Goodnight Percy."

"Goodnight Y/N" Percy said as he pulled back your hair and tucked it behind your ear. He rested his hand by your jaw. You decided to lean in and kiss him goodnight. This kiss last a little longer than a little peck. And of course, just like last time, Nico slammed the door open. Causing you both to jump apart.

"Hey guys" Nico greeted. You sighed.

"Goodnight Percy" you said as you walked past Nico.

"Goodnight Y/N" Percy turned to Nico. "And goodnight Nico."

"Goodnight" Nico said in a jokingly sweet voice. He was dying not to laugh. He shut the door and turned to you. "We're just friends" he said in a girly high-pitched voice, imitating you.

"We technically still are" you said quietly. There was silence before you spoke up again. "We're going on a date tomorrow."

"Finally oh my gods. The world is moving forward" Nico said. He is soo dramatic.

"Okay drama king, I'm gonna go shower now" you waved Nico off.

Wow. You and Percy had a date tomorrow.

..............................................................................................................................Pt. 4?? 😱

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson pjo #percy pjo #percy series #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy jackson fluff #annabeth chase #annabeth pjo #silena beauregard #silena pjo #nico di angelo

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butterfly-lies-chase-them-away · 5 months

Text

Office Hours/Bells - Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader (Part 1)

Pairing: Professor!Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 12 640

Warnings: Obsessive behaviour, Professor x Student, mild body horror, fear gas, lowkey prey/predator kink (chasing), kidnapping

Summary: Y/n, a university student, forms an unexpected friendship with Professor Jonathan Crane. But are his intentions what he says they are?

A/N: This one accidentally became a bit of a slow-burn but hey! it is what is~ I didn't know which one to call this so I just did both 💀 My initial plan for this was just a short one, around 2k-3k words... guess that didn't work out. A lot of it may be repetitive, so apologies A/N: This one accidentally became a bit of a slow-burn but hey! it is what is~ I didn't know which one to call this so I just did both 💀 My initial plan for this was just a short one, around 2k-3k words... guess that didn't work out. A lot of it may be repetitive, so apologies - (Part 2) (Part 3)

Y/n entered the psychology lecture hall, the familiar scent of old textbooks and the low hum of whispered conversations enveloping her as she took her usual seat near the front. The lecture hall was spacious, rows of worn-out seats filled with few students, as most dropped the class within the first week, due to the Professors harsh attitude. As she settled in, her eyes wandered to the front of the room, where Professor Crane's desk stood. He usually entered on the dot so it wasn’t strange to see his desk empty.

The sound of the office door's wide swing echoed through the hall, Professor Crane walking in, his presence evoked a collective hush in the lecture room. As if choreographed, he navigated the room with an air of precision, placing his meticulously organized files and papers onto the desk.

Professor Crane wasted no time, setting the tone for the day's lesson. It became immediately apparent to every student that patience was not a virtue Professor Crane indulged in. The swift, deliberate motion of his hand grabbed a piece of chalk, and with a decisive sweep, he began writing the day's lesson on the board.

As the lesson drew to a close, marking the end of another lengthy lecture, Y/n found herself grappling with the weight of the information presented. Despite her best efforts to remain focused, the sheer volume of content in today's lesson proved to be a challenge for her to fully absorb. The struggle to grasp the concept left her feeling both mentally fatigued, yearning for a moment of rest.

“If there’s any trouble, my office hours are available for help,” Professor Crane finished, as the students left.

Despite being aware of the option to attend Professor Crane's office hours, Y/n hesitated, daunted by the intimidating presence of the man. The memory of him calling on classmates during class, casually degrading them when they struggled to grasp concepts, lingered in her mind. The thought of engaging in a one-on-one conversation with him only stirred up anxiety. Opting against visiting Professor Crane's office, Y/n retreated to her dorm.

Back in her dorm, Y/n sank into her desk chair, frustration evident on her face. The psychology book lay open before her, its pages a source of bewilderment. Despite her earnest attempts to comprehend the material covered in class, the concept continued to slip through her grasp. With a sigh of exasperation, she tossed her pen onto the desk, leaning back into her chair.

The struggle was real, and Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of being lost in a sea of incomprehension. Even reaching out to fellow classmates had proven futile, as they too found themselves in the dark. The weight of confusion hung heavy in the air, leaving Y/n grappling with the unsettling realization that she may have to push her anxieties away for help.

Glancing at her class calander she made at the beginning of the year, Y/n noticed that Professor Crane had office hours scheduled a couple of hours before tomorrows class. A moment of contemplation ensued, marked by the rhythmic bouncing of her leg. Eventually, she reasoned that giving it a shot couldn't hurt. After all, even if Professor Crane were to belittle her, at least there wouldn't be an audience to witness any potential humiliation.

The following morning, Y/n gathered her books and essentials, preparing for another day at the university. As she stepped onto the campus, her destination clear, she headed towards Professor Crane's office. Each step felt burdened, her legs heavy with nervousness that clung to her as she approached the looming encounter.

Standing in front of Professor Crane's office door, Y/n took a shaky breath before knocking. The response came swiftly, "Come in," in Professor Crane's authoritative voice.

Twisting the handle, she entered the room. Professor Crane, engrossed in some papers, looked up as she stepped in. Y/n found herself at a loss for words, her shyness momentarily stifling her thoughts.

Breaking the silence, Professor Crane inquired, "Can I help you with something?"

Caught off guard, Y/n stammered, "Uh, yes, sorry. I was, umm, trying to go over the things we learned yesterday, but I had trouble trying to grasp the concept. I was wondering if you could help me go over it?"

Jonathan regarded her for a moment before gesturing towards the seat opposite him, a silent invitation for her to sit. Y/n promptly took the seat, positioning herself across from him.

Y/n looked around the room, taking in the surroundings. Bookshelves adorned with a myriad of psychology titles graced the walls, that offer a visual journey through the expansive world of the mind. Disheveled piles of papers and folders, likely files from Arkham, added an air of mystery to the atmosphere. The walls were adorned with various academic accolades and framed degrees. The inviting couch, a standard feature in university offices, seemed strangely pristine and untouched.

"Do you have anything for me to look at? Anything specific?" Jonathan inquired, shifting his papers to make room for her.

Nodding, Y/n retrieved her textbook and a few of her own papers. As she handed them over, Professor Crane asked, "What part did you not understand?" The question, though genuine, had a way of making her feel a bit foolish, and a sudden warmth crept into her face.

"Well...I had trouble with the start of it so...I didn’t understand...any of it," Y/n admitted, a tinge of embarrassment coloring her words.

Avoiding eye contact with her professor, Y/n couldn't help but feel small in his presence. She felt like a complete idiot.

"Well..." Crane sighed, surprising Y/n with a comment that sounded unexpectedly friendly. "Looks like we got a lot of work ahead of us."

Despite the friendly remark, Y/n remained on edge. Professor Crane pulled the book closer, running his pen tip over the first couple of sentences. Reading them aloud, he delved into more depth, echoing the teaching style she was familiar with from his lectures.

Y/n clung to his words, processing and understanding the material more with each passing moment. Her notebook lay open beside her, writing brief notes that she intended to expand upon during her own time. To her surprise, Professor Crane exhibited an unexpected gentleness and patience, allowing her the space to ask questions and guiding her through the material at a measured pace.

In this one-on-one session, Y/n found herself gaining more information that surpassed what she could have achieved on her own. The personalized attention and the chance to delve deeper into the subject with Professor Crane were proving invaluable to her comprehension of the challenging concepts.

"Has that helped?" Professor Crane inquired, reclining in his chair.

"Yes, thank you. This makes so much sense now," Y/n replied, unable to contain her smile.

"Glad I could help," Professor Crane acknowledged. "Thanks for coming in; don't hesitate so much next time," he added.

Y/n couldn't help but be pleasantly surprised by Professor Crane's kindness throughout the entire session. The encounter left her with a newfound appreciation for his approachability and willingness to assist.

Y/n finally looked up at him properly, meeting his gaze for the first time in that half-hour. She was taken aback, realizing the striking blue hue of his eyes, a detail she had never noticed before as she avoided looking at him in lectures, hoping he wouldn’t call on her.

Quickly averting her gaze, she began packing away all her materials. "Thank you again, sir," Y/n expressed, her smile lingering.

"Feel free to come back after today's lesson too if you're having trouble," he suggested, offering her a slight smile in return.

The unexpected kindness from Professor Crane left Y/n pleasantly surprised. "I will, sir. Thank you," she replied before leaving the office, carrying with her a newfound appreciation for the approachability and support she hadn't anticipated.

With a newfound sense of confidence, Y/n practically skipped her way to the library to finalize her notes. The weight that had initially clung to the prospect of talking to Professor Crane had lifted, and she discovered that he wasn't as intimidating as she had initially thought.

As class approached, Y/n felt a wave of optimism about the upcoming lesson, knowing she now had the option to seek more help later. The prospect of understanding the material became less daunting.

When Professor Crane entered the class, the usual hush fell over the room. Unfazed, he seamlessly resumed his routine, initiating the lesson with his familiar writing on the board. The air was charged with anticipation, and Y/n felt a renewed sense of readiness to tackle the subject matter with the newfound support at her disposal.

Not even 10 minutes into the class, Y/n watched as Professor Crane once again questioned a student's intelligence, a sharp contrast to the kindness she had experienced earlier. It caught her off guard — his demeanor seemed to shift dramatically when addressing individuals in front of the class. She wondered if he found enjoyment in embarrassing people publicly or if there was another motive behind his approach. Y/n instinctively shrank back into her seat, hoping not to be the next target.

As the lesson concluded, Y/n made a quick move toward the door, only to find herself intercepted by Professor Crane stepping in front of her.

"Understand today's lesson?" he inquired, hands clasped behind his back. His slight smile surprised her, considering the belittlement she had witnessed throughout the class.

"Yeah, I think I got it," Y/n responded quickly.

The Professor nodded. "Alright, just don't be scared to ask for help," he advised before strolling back to his office. Y/n stood there, grappling with the unexpected duality of Professor Crane's demeanor, thankful for the support she had received earlier but still perplexed by the contrasting experiences in the classroom.

Regrettably for Y/n, the intricacies of today's lesson eluded her, slipping through the gaps in her understanding during the last 10 minutes of class. Her meticulous note-taking proved insufficient, she clearly didn’t get the last part of the lesson. The idea of seeking help at Professor Crane's office hours lingered, but a sense of unease settled in after the day's earlier interactions.

The peculiar contrast in Professor Crane's treatment of her versus the rest of the class left Y/n feeling unsettled. Was he kinder to those who sought help, or was there a different dynamic at play? It remained uncertain, casting a shadow over the prospect of returning for assistance.

Yet, the urgency of understanding the material prevailed over any reservations. Realizing the potential consequences for future lessons, Y/n knew she would have to get help. Y/n considered asking another classmate again, but preferred the way in which Professor Crane was indepth and had more to offer. She acknowledged the necessity of visiting Professor Crane's office hours the next day, and it didn’t feel as daunting as it did the day before.

Approaching Professor Crane's office for the second time, Y/n hesitated for a brief moment before knocking on the door.

"Come in," Professor Crane's voice called out.

Y/n opened the door, offering a tight-lipped smile as she entered. "Thought you'd come back," Professor Crane remarked, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he leaned back in his chair.

Taking the now familiar seat across from him, Y/n observed as he pushed aside his work to focus on her. Placing her books on the table, she turned to the last page of the chapter, the faint rustle of paper filling the room.

"It was just the end bit that I kinda lost track of," Y/n admitted, her voice portraying a hint of uncertainty.

“This should be a lot quicker than yesterday, then,” the Professor smiled, joking lightly.

Leaning over the book, Professor Crane again took her through the paragraphs slowly, picking them apart one by one, making sure she understood each thing he said.

As she attempted to maintain focus, the alluring scent of Professor Crane's cologne began to weave its way into her senses, creating a subtle distraction. The close proximity, both of them leaning over the desk to study the book, allowed the fragrance to unfold in intricate layers. The cologne, not noticeable the day before or perhaps just more subdued, now revealed itself with greater prominence.

The scent was strong, but not unpleasant. The fragrance enveloping him carried a sophisticated blend of notes that gracefully danced in the air. A distinct combination of musky undertones and woody accents created an aura of timeless masculinity. As he moved, subtle hints of citrus and spice gently emerged, adding a layer of complexity to the scent.

"Y/n? Did you get that?" Professor Crane's voice pulled her back to reality.

Y/n shook her head, attempting to refocus. "Oh, sorry, could you repeat that last part?" she squinted, her face warming with embarrassment.

Professor Crane patiently reiterated the information, ensuring she grasped it this time. Internally, Y/n chastised herself, questioning how she could be so easily distracted by a man's cologne.

"You want to write that down?" he suggested, studying her expression.

"It might take a while..." Y/n admitted, well aware of her heightened distraction today.

"That's fine; we have all the time in the world," Professor Crane assured, leaning back in his chair.

"But another student might need help," Y/n hesitated, considering the potential impact on others.

"That's not a problem. No one comes to office hours. Just you," Professor Crane revealed, a statement that slightly shocked Y/n. She had assumed his intimidating demeanor might keep some students away, but the revelation that she was the only one who sought assistance caught her off guard. "O-oh," she stammered in response.

Y/n focused on her notebook, diligently transcribing the information provided by Professor Crane. As she carefully jotted down the details he emphasized, she couldn't shake the feeling of being exposed, a vulnerability that crept in unnoticed.

Glancing up, she caught Professor Crane looking directly at her. Despite the file in his hands, his gaze remained fixed on her. The realization left Y/n feeling a bit uneasy, unsure of why she suddenly felt so exposed under his scrutiny. Opting to dismiss the discomfort, she decided to concentrate on her writing, pushing the unease to the back of her mind and assuming it was just a fleeting moment of self-consciousness.

Having finished writing her notes, Y/n placed her pen down and looked back up at her professor. As he set his file aside, he directed his attention to her notebook. "Finished?" he inquired.

Y/n nodded in confirmation.

"Any more questions about yesterday's lesson?" Professor Crane asked.

She shook her head, indicating her understanding.

"Well, I suppose you're free to go then," Professor Crane remarked. Y/n began packing her belongings when, unexpectedly, he continued, "Unless... would you like me to teach you today's lesson?" The offer hung in the air, leaving Y/n momentarily surprised by the unexpected opportunity for additional guidance.

"But... office hours end in like half an hour," Y/n pointed at the clock, expressing her concern.

"They're my office hours; I can change them however I want," Professor Crane replied, his words softened by the friendly smile adorning his face.

"Are you sure you want to waste your time teaching me? I'll just hear it in a couple of hours anyway," Y/n expressed her uncertainty.

"I'd like to teach you; no one's more eager to learn than you are, my Dear. I insist," Professor Crane insisted, the endearment slipping into his words. Y/n almost missed it, caught off guard by the unexpected warmth in her professor's tone. It was a side of him she hadn't anticipated, and the kindness he displayed left her pleasantly surprised.

Y/n sighed with a mix of relief and gratitude. "You're too kind, sir. Thank you," she expressed, recognizing this as a valuable opportunity to get ahead in the class.

"Don't need to thank me, Dear," Professor Crane replied, a slight smile playing on his lips as he again tested the newfound name.

As she retrieved her books, Professor Crane opened them to the latest chapter. Patiently, he guided her through each part, allowing her the time she needed to take thorough notes. Engrossed in the material, Y/n's awareness was focused on the subject at hand, and she failed to notice Professor Crane's not so subtle staring for the second time.

Unbeknownst to her, he watched as her hair gracefully sat behind her ear and took note of the delicate way her fingers held the pen. The Professor's attentive gaze added an unexpected layer to the lesson, one that went beyond the academic content and into the realm of unspoken dynamics between student and teacher.

Y/n looked back up at Professor Crane, anticipation in her gaze as she awaited the next part of the lesson. As the professor spoke, Y/n found herself gazing up at him, absorbing only fragments of his words. Amid the intricate details of the lesson, her thoughts drifted to a deep appreciation for the professor and the invaluable assistance he was providing.

Glad she had returned to his office hours, Y/n reflected on the decision to have him teach her this lesson. The material was notably more information-heavy than previous lessons, and she couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude. Without this one-on-one guidance, the complexity of the subject matter would have left her utterly lost in the classroom setting.

Professor Crane skillfully condensed what could have been a two-hour lesson into just over an hour. The efficiency of the session left Y/n feeling remarkably more confident in her understanding of Psychology.

"Thank you so much, Professor," Y/n expressed her gratitude with a genuine smile.

"Don't have to keep thanking me, Dear. Just doing my job," Professor Crane replied, returning her smile with a warmth that surpassed the formalities of a typical teacher-student interaction.

Checking the clock, Y/n realized class would commence in 20 minutes. "I should head off to give you time to prepare," she suggested, preparing to rise from her seat.

Professor Crane, however, suggested otherwise. "You might as well just wait here. You won't get in the way."

Unsure, Y/n hesitated before asking, "You sure you don't want a break before teaching? You're probably tired of me."

"Not at all... I could use the company," he reassured, his smile indicating a genuine desire for her presence rather than any sense of obligation.

Y/n couldn't help but smile. "Feeling lonely?" she teased, a newfound comfort allowing her to engage in a more playful manner.

"You could say that," Professor Crane replied, meeting her teasing with a genuine smile.

Reclaiming her seat and settling in, Y/n sought to initiate a conversation. "So... not many students come to your office hours?" she inquired, curious about the dynamics of student-teacher interactions.

"None... you're the first to come," Professor Crane admitted.

"Oh..." Y/n's realization set in. When he mentioned earlier that no one attended, she assumed it might be an exaggeration. Now, it became evident that she was indeed the sole student seeking assistance during his office hours.

Y/n had an realization; perhaps the reason Professor Crane treated her so nicely was that she was the only student attending his office hours. It occurred to her that he might genuinely appreciate her active approach to seeking help, recognizing her passion for the subject.

"I guess the other students are just too intimidated, or don't care," Professor Crane mused, his words carrying a subtle tone that hinted at his sentiments towards the rest of the students.

She sensed a certain disappointment in his words, an unspoken judgment on the other students who, for various reasons, didn't take advantage of the opportunity to seek additional guidance. The realization left Y/n feeling a mix of gratitude for the personalized attention she received and a touch of sympathy for the potential missed opportunities by her peers.

"Gee, you think very little of them, don't you?" Y/n quipped, her tone half-joking. It was her subtle way of delving into why Professor Crane sometimes treated the class so harshly.

She recognized that she might be overstepping, but a genuine curiosity about the man behind the professor prompted her to seek more insight.

"The class is full of imbeciles. They don't know a thing about psychology. The lot of them couldn't tell a psychopath from a sociopath," Crane vented, a hint of frustration in his words.

"Hey, they're not all idiots," Y/n tried to offer a more different perspective.

"You haven't read their papers," Crane rolled his eyes, a touch of exasperation evident in his response. The exchange revealed a layer of dissatisfaction with his students' grasp of the subject, providing Y/n with a glimpse into the source of his occasional sternness in class.

Though Y/n recognized the impossibility of psychoanalyzing her professor, curiosity had taken a firm hold, compelling her to want to understand more about the man behind the lectern. The enigma of Professor Crane's demeanor and his candid assessments of the students intrigued her, prompting a desire to unravel the complexities that lay beneath the surface.

"Well... what about my papers?" Y/n inquired, a mix of anticipation and curiosity evident in her expression. She was eager to hear how Professor Crane would describe her work.

His gaze intensified as he began, "It’s clear through your writing that you’re passionate about psychology. You beautifully discuss topics in a way that engages readers and sparks interest. Your ability to convey complex concepts with clarity and enthusiasm is truly commendable. It's evident that you not only possess a deep understanding of the subject matter but also a genuine passion for sharing that knowledge."

His words hung in the air, the intensity of his gaze holding a weight that went beyond mere academic assessment. Professor Crane's thoughtful analysis revealed not only an appreciation for Y/n's proficiency but also a recognition of the passion that fueled her exploration of psychology. It was a validation that made her feel proud of herself, creating a moment of mutual understanding and acknowledgment.

Y/n was taken aback, her eyes darting all around the room as her face warmed with disbelief. Praise of such magnitude was unfamiliar territory for her, and coming from Professor Crane, renowned for his exacting standards, it added an extra layer to her astonishment. "Gosh, my work couldn't have been that good, sir. You're too kind."

"You know I'm not kind just for the sake of it. I don't praise just any student's work, dear," Professor Crane responded, his expression serious, the weight of his words emphasizing the sincerity behind his commendation. The gravity of the moment lingered, leaving Y/n grappling with a mix of surprise and gratitude for the unexpected recognition of her efforts.

Y/n acknowledged that Professor Crane wasn't the type to dispense niceties without genuine merit, intensifying the authenticity of the moment. "I... I just don't know what to say," she confessed, her words laced with a mix of humility and gratitude.

"You don't have to say anything; just know that you're a brilliant student, and I'm glad to have you in my class," Professor Crane asserted, leaning forward with his elbows on the table, hands clasped together.

"Thank you," Y/n replied with a genuine smile, the warmth of the professor's acknowledgment lingering.

He nodded politely, reciprocating the smile. "So, what would you be doing right now if you weren't here with me?" he asked, a subtle inquiry into her interests without directly posing the question.

Indulging the curiosity, Y/n shared, "Usually, I'd be back at my dorm studying or maybe out with friends."

"Are these of yours friends taking different courses? It's just that I never see you sitting with anyone in class that much," Professor Crane probed further, expressing unexpected interest in the dynamics of her social circle.

She hadn't anticipated his curiosity about her friends. "Yeah, most of them are taking things like English Literature, History, Biochem," Y/n answered, providing a glimpse into the diverse corses her friend were taking.

"I see... and are all of them…just friends?" Professor Crane asked, his gaze intense, as if searching for something beyond the words.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows, a touch of confusion coloring her expression. "I'm not sure I understand the question," she admitted.

"Are you seeing anyone?" he asked, taking the conversation into unexpected territory. It caught her off guard. Why was he interested? What prompted such a personal question? Despite her surprise, Y/n chose to keep the conversation flowing, steering clear of awkwardness. "No, I'm not," she answered. Professor Crane nodded, his focus unwavering.

Feeling a degree of boldness, Y/n decided to reciprocate, nervously asking, "How about you? Any wife or anything?" There was a hesitancy in her voice, a fear of overstepping.

"Nope... just me," Professor Crane replied, his tone casual yet offering little insight into his personal life.

Wanting to explore a topic outside the realm of teaching and relationships, Y/n sought a new avenue of conversation. "So you're also a Doctor at Arkham. What's that like?" she inquired.

Professor Crane sighed, a subtle chuckle escaping him. "Every day's a new challenge. I do enjoy my work there, but the patients can be a handful sometimes," he shared, offering a glimpse into the complexities of his dual roles as a professor and a practitioner at Arkham.

"From all the news, it sure sounds like a lot," Y/n remarked, sharing a laugh at the intriguing tales surrounding Arkham Asylum.

"You could come see it for yourself if you'd like. I can take you," Professor Crane offered, extending an unexpected invitation that caught Y/n off guard.

"W-wow, really?" Y/n's eyes widened with excitement. The prospect of exploring the infamous Arkham Asylum, even with it’s poor repetuation, was a dream come true.

"Of course, it would be a good learning experience," Professor Crane affirmed, his smirk hinting at a certain familiarity with the inner workings of the institution.

"Are you sure it's allowed?" Y/n inquired cautiously.

"I'm pretty high up in that place, so I can pull a couple of strings," he responded with a confident smirk, revealing a hint of his influence.

After a quick glace at the clock, Professor Crane rose from his seat. "People should be coming in right about now."

Looking at the time herself, Y/n gathered her belongings and prepared to leave. "We can talk more later about showing you Arkham if you'd like," Professor Crane suggested, holding the door open.

"That sounds perfect. Thank you, Professor," Y/n expressed her gratitude, making her way to the door.

"Talk to you after class, then," he said, smiling at her before returning to his desk.

Walking out of his office, Y/n couldn't fathom the extraordinary opportunity that had just presented itself, and the thought that such an experience might await her left her both thrilled and intrigued.

The class came to a close, and Y/n eagerly approached Professor Crane, who had already neatly packed his things, a shared smile bridging the distance between them.

"Let's talk about Arkham, then," Professor Crane suggested, leading the way to his office, Y/n following in tow.

"Do you have any lectures tomorrow?" Professor Crane inquired, his voice carrying an air of anticipation.

"Not tomorrow, no," Y/n responded.

"Then that sounds like the perfect time for me to take you," Professor Crane declared, a warm smile playing on his lips.

The reality of the situation began to sink in for Y/n. It was happening — the chance to explore the mysterious Arkham Asylum with Professor Crane as her guide. The thrill of the unexpected adventure filled her with a sense of wonder and disbelief.

"Oh my god, thank you so much, sir. This means so much to me," Y/n exclaimed, genuine gratitude painting her expression.

"You deserve it," Professor Crane replied, his assurance carrying a sense of sincerity.

"So umm... how will we go about this?" Y/n asked, eager to plan the logistics of the upcoming adventure.

"I'm assuming you stay at the university dorms?" Professor Crane inquired.

"I am, yes," Y/n confirmed.

"I suppose it would be easiest for me to pick you up from there. I can come get you at 8, if that works for you," Professor Crane suggested, offering a practical solution.

"Of course," Y/n agreed, the excitement bubbling within her, the prospect of exploring Arkham Asylum with Professor Crane creating a sense of giddiness that was hard to contain.

"Perfect," Professor Crane remarked. "Now, I should let you get back to your dorm and get a good rest; tomorrow's gonna be a big day for you," he added with a confident smirk.

Y/n chuckled in agreement. "I could imagine. Thank you, sir. Goodbye."

Professor Crane nodded politely as she exited his office. Y/n practically floated back to her dorm, the anticipation building within her. Following his advice, she decided to rest for the remainder of the day. The excitement of visiting Arkham Asylum, coupled with the mysterious allure of the institution, fueled her imagination.

As night fell, sleep proved elusive for Y/n. Her mind buzzed with anticipation and curiosity about the impending visit. What would she discover within the walls of Arkham? The prospect of the unknown, guided by Professor Crane, fueled her restless excitement, and she could barely contain her anticipation for the extraordinary day that awaited her.

The rhythmic buzz of Y/n's alarm clock greeted the new morning, a herald of the exciting day that awaited her. Brimming with anticipation, she practically bounced out of bed, fueled by a burst of energy that could only be described as a cocktail of nervousness and exhilaration. The bathroom became a sanctuary for a swift but thorough morning routine, cleansing her senses and preparing her for the significant day ahead.

As she perused her wardrobe, each garment held the weight of consideration. Y/n recognized the importance of making a favorable impression, especially considering the potential encounters with the discerning doctors at Arkham Asylum. She chose an outfit that balanced professionalism with a touch of her own style, a subtle nod to the gravity of the impending visit.

A glance at the clock revealed that she was ahead of schedule. It was 7:48, and uncertainty lingered about Professor Crane's punctuality. She realised she had no way of telling when he would arrive. Determined not to keep him waiting, Y/n decided to head outside, leaving the dormitory corridors.

The university grounds welcomed her with a subdued ambiance, the early morning calm only disturbed by the distant hum of city life. Y/n found a spot on a sturdy bench at the front of the dorms. The atmosphere was draped in the typical Gotham gloom – a ceiling of gray clouds stretched endlessly above, holding the promise of impending rain. Yet, for now, the air bore only a biting chill, a forewarning of the unpredictable Gotham weather.

Seated on the bench, Y/n couldn't escape the palpable excitement that rippled through her. The visible breaths she exhaled added a tangible layer to the anticipation, creating wisps of mist in the frigid air. The quietude of the campus seemed to magnify the significance of the moment as she patiently awaited the arrival of Professor Crane, the orchestrator of this extraordinary excursion into the unknown.

Lost in her thoughts, Y/n was blissfully unaware of someone approaching until a familiar voice cut through her reverie. "Good morning, Y/n," Professor Crane greeted her, his presence catching her by surprise.

Looking up from the ground, Y/n beamed a warm smile at him. "Good morning, Professor," she responded instinctively, the habit of addressing him formally ingrained in her.

"We're outside of class, my Dear, you don't have to call me Professor. Just Jonathan is fine," he suggested, a rare invitation to familiarity that caught her off guard. Testing the waters, she hesitated for a moment before tentatively trying out his first name. "Okay, Jonathan."

His smile in response conveyed a subtle warmth, as if sharing this piece of himself with her was a gesture of trust. "My car's just around the corner," he mentioned, and she rose from the bench to follow him.

As they made their way to the car, Y/n couldn't shake the peculiar nature of the situation. Getting into her professor's car in full view of her dorms was certainly out of the ordinary, but the sense of trust she felt for Jonathan quelled any reservations. The gentlemanly gesture of him opening the car door for her only added to the surreal atmosphere.

"Thank you," she expressed her gratitude with a smile as she settled into the car. Jonathan circled the vehicle and took his place in the driver's seat, the engine humming to life. As he secured his seatbelt, he shifted the conversation to a more mundane topic. "Have any breakfast before leaving?" he inquired, glancing over at her.

The realization struck her – breakfast had slipped her mind in the whirlwind of excitement. "Uh, no, I didn't," she admitted, a slight sheepishness in her tone.

“Well we can’t be having that,” Jonathan said, looking at her with his piercing blue eyes behind his glasses.

“Oh, it’s fine really,” Y/n tried to reassure him.

"You're in for a long day; you need food," Jonathan remarked, his concern for her well-being evident in his words. "Besides, I haven't eaten yet myself. I know a lovely cafe on the way; don't worry about it."

Grateful for his thoughtfulness, Y/n smiled and responded, "Thank you."

"Not a problem, my Dear," he assured her, his use of the endearment somehow making the situation feel even more surreal. With that, he skillfully maneuvered the car into the flow of traffic.

To her surprise, the chaotic Gotham roads seemed unusually cooperative, allowing their journey to unfold with an unexpected smoothness. The city, notorious for its perpetual hustle and bustle, offered a brief respite as they cruised toward their destination. In the serene confines of the car, Y/n couldn't help but marvel at the contrasting calmness outside.

Jonathan expertly maneuvered the car into a parking space just outside a charming diner nestled on the outskirts of the Narrows. Exiting the car, the duo made their way into the cozy establishment.

"Seat yourselves, I'll be right with you," greeted a friendly waitress.

Jonathan gestured towards an inviting booth, Y/n slid into the seat, the comfortable booth promising a relaxing start to the day's adventures.

As they settled in, Jonathan reached for a couple of menus discreetly tucked beneath the cutlery. He handed one to Y/n with a casual smile. "Choose anything you'd like—drink and food. I'll pay," he generously offered, his gaze shifting to his own menu.

"Oh, I can't have you pay for me. You're already doing so much for me," Y/n insisted, a hint of guilt tainting her expression.

Jonathan chuckled warmly, his eyes reflecting a genuine understanding. "You're a university student staying at the dorms; money is not something you should be throwing around. I, however, am well off with my jobs. Don't worry."

Despite his reassurance, Y/n couldn't shake off the feeling of indebtedness. "I just feel bad that you're doing all this for me," she confessed, her sincerity evident in her eyes.

"If you want to so badly, you can pay next time," Jonathan suggested, a playful smirk playing on his lips.

"I'll hold you to that," Y/n responded with a smile, the lighthearted banter momentarily easing the weight of gratitude she felt. The easy camaraderie between them made the ordinary act of sharing a meal feel like an extraordinary moment.

She appreciated the effortless flow of their conversation, finding an unexpected camaraderie with Jonathan. The notion of befriending a professor initially seemed peculiar, but with each passing moment, it felt surprisingly natural. Their discussions swayed seamlessly between topics, and Y/n discovered a side of Jonathan beyond the classroom, making her appreciate him not just as an educator but as a genuinely pleasant individual.

As the morning sunlight streamed through the diner's windows, casting a warm glow on their table, Y/n couldn't help but marvel at the ease with which they interacted. The atmosphere was friendly and unburdened by the typical student-teacher dynamic. In that little diner booth, they were just two adults enjoying each other's company, forging a connection that went beyond the confines of academia.

The array of options on the menu presented Y/n with a delightful dilemma. The diner's atmosphere was lively yet intimate, with the aroma of brewing coffee and sizzling breakfast filling the air.

The waitress gracefully returned to their table, pen poised over her notepad. "What can I get for you two?" she inquired with a welcoming smile.

Jonathan was quick to respond, "I'll have a coffee and a breakfast bagel." His eyes then shifted to Y/n.

Feeling more on the sweet side, Y/n replied, "A berry smoothie and a brownie, please."

The waitress, attentive to details, followed up, "Would you like cream or yogurt with the brownie?"

"Yogurt, please," Y/n said.

The waitress jotted down their orders. "Is there anything else?" she asked, awaiting their final decisions.

"That'll be all," Jonathan confirmed, and Y/n nodded in agreement. With that, the waitress gracefully glided away, leaving them to resume their conversation in the cozy diner booth.

Jonathan chuckled at Y/n's choice, "A brownie at 8 in the morning?" he teased playfully.

"I know, it's a bit sweet," Y/n admitted, laughing along with him. "But treats like this are rare for me."

"Everyone deserves a morning indulgence now and then," Jonathan responded with a smile.

Their conversation continued to flow effortlessly, exchanging bits of information about their lives, particularly revolving around university.

Around 10 minutes later, the waitress returned with their orders. "Here you go," she said, placing the plates in front of them.

"Thank you," Y/n expressed her gratitude, eagerly eyeing the delicious spread in front of her.

As the waitress left, Y/n took a moment to appreciate the aroma of the coffee and the vibrant colors of her berry smoothie. Jonathan sipped his coffee and leaned back, a relaxed smile on his face. The atmosphere was comfortable, the diner buzzing with the low hum of conversations and the clinking of cutlery.

Jonathan leaned forward, taking ahold of his bagel, a faint smile on his face. "I hope you don't mind the detour for breakfast. It's good to start a day like this every once in a while."

Y/n chuckled, feeling the ease of their interaction. "Not at all. It's a pleasant surprise, actually. I didn't expect today to begin like this."

Jonathan nodded. "Well, sometimes it's the unexpected moments that make the day memorable."

Jonathan took a sip of his coffee before speaking, "So, tell me more about your interest in psychology. What drew you to the field?"

Y/n took a moment to savor her smoothie before answering, "I've always been fascinated by the human mind and how it works. It's like this intricate puzzle, and psychology helps me unravel its complexities. Plus, the idea of helping people through understanding their thoughts and behaviors would also be pretty cool."

Jonathan nodded, "It's a noble pursuit. Psychology has the power to make a significant impact on individuals' lives. Do you have any specific areas within psychology that you find most intriguing?"

“I won’t lie, Arkham has always been an interest of mine. Not necessarily the famous rogues that are constantly escaping, but the more troubled souls that had a rough start,” Y/n shared.

“Not so interested in the Joker then?” Jonathan teased.

“God no,” Y/n responded.

Jonathan chuckled, "Can't blame you there. The Joker is a whole different level of chaos."

Y/n took a sip of her berry smoothie, enjoying the refreshing taste. "But seriously, the idea of helping those who are struggling mentally, especially the ones society tends to overlook, that's where I want to make a difference."

Jonathan nodded, sipping his coffee. "Mental health is often stigmatized, and people don't realize the impact it has on individuals and society as a whole. Your dedication to understanding and helping is commendable."

The conversation continued, effortlessly weaving between casual banter and more serious topics. The comfortable atmosphere of the diner, coupled with Jonathan's easygoing nature, made Y/n feel at ease discussing her aspirations.

As they drove toward Arkham, Jonathan and Y/n continued their conversation, Jonathan sharing about the intricate workings of the human mind. The cityscape changed as they delved deeper into the Narrows, with its dodgy alleyways and poorly lit streets, which even in the dark made it difficult to see, creating an atmosphere of unease. The air felt heavy, carrying the weight of the stories locked within the walls of Arkham Asylum.

Jonathan glanced at Y/n. "It's a unique place, Arkham," he remarked, his eyes focused on the road ahead.

Y/n couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and trepidation. The legendary reputation of Arkham Asylum had always fueled her curiosity, and now, with the prospect of exploring its mysteries, she couldn't contain her anticipation.

Securing a parking spot proved effortless in the vast, desolate parking lot. Stepping out of the car, Y/n gazed up at the imposing structure – a stone fortress that housed some of Gotham's most notorious criminals. Jonathan, an experienced guide in this ominous environment, approached her and led the way inside.

With a swift display of his ID, Jonathan gained entry, Y/n following suit without a single question. He grabbed a visitor badge for her before securing it around her neck.

The echoing clang of the heavy metal door closing behind them filled the entrance hall. The dimly lit corridor stretched ahead, lined with security personnel stationed at various checkpoints. The cold, sterile air of the facility sent shivers down Y/n's spine as she adjusted the visitor badge Jonathan handed her.

The corridor seemed to wind endlessly, each turn revealing another layer of security. Jonathan led her through the labyrinthine structure, his familiarity with the layout evident. The occasional distant echoes of unsettling sounds from within the facility heightened the tension in the air.

As they passed by the barred cells, Y/n couldn't help but steal glances into the shadows, catching glimpses of faces that seemed to hold a myriad of stories. The residents of Arkham Asylum, each with their own struggles and torments, observed the visitors with a mix of curiosity and detachment.

Jonathan explained the varying levels of security, detailing the procedures in place to ensure the safety of both staff and visitors. Y/n absorbed the information with a mix of fascination and a growing sense of apprehension. The weight of being surrounded by some of Gotham's most troubled souls pressed down on her.

They eventually reached a central area, a hub of activity where staff members bustled about their duties. Y/n observed the dynamics, the interplay between doctors, guards, and the patients who moved within the confines of their respective spaces. The atmosphere was a blend of tension and routine.

Approaching a door, Jonathan turned the doorknob, revealing the door marked with his name – Dr. Crane. The office, his domain, welcomed them, and Jonathan efficiently navigated around his desk to retrieve a couple of files.

Jonathan gathered the necessary files and responded, "Just a regular in-patient for the first session, but the second might be less conventional."

"Will they be okay with me being present?" Y/n asked.

"Well, if you're concerned, you can always ask them. Consent is important," Jonathan replied.

"Thank you," Y/n expressed her gratitude.

Jonathan guided them through the dimly lit halls of Arkham, arriving at the room where the first session would take place. They waited at the door, observing the tense atmosphere. Soon, a guard led a patient down the corridor, and from Jonathan's focused gaze, Y/n assumed this was the individual they were there to see.

"Mr. Wilson, you seem to be in good spirits today," Jonathan remarked, his tone carrying a sense of monotony.

“Mhmm,” Mr. Wilson responded, his eyes wandering around the hallway.

“I have a student from Gotham University joining us today. She's here to observe the session. Would that be acceptable to you?” Jonathan inquired.

Mr. Wilson finally looked up, his gaze meeting Y/n's. It appeared as though he hadn't encountered a woman in years. After a moment's contemplation, he nodded slowly.

“Great,” Jonathan said, holding the door open for everyone to enter the room.

The room was clinical, with pale walls and minimal furniture. Jonathan guided Y/n to a seat near the back, gesturing for her to take a comfortable position. Mr. Wilson settled into a chair across from Jonathan's desk.

As the session began, Jonathan engaged Mr. Wilson in conversation, discussing various topics. Y/n observed the interaction closely, trying to discern the nuances of the therapy process. She noted the controlled detachment in Jonathan's demeanor, a stark contrast to the patient's erratic and paranoid behavior.

Throughout the session, Y/n was captivated by the exchanges between therapist and patient. Mr. Wilson's responses were often fragmented and disjointed, revealing the complexity of his mental state. Jonathan navigated the conversation with finesse, probing gently into sensitive areas while maintaining an air of professionalism.

As the session concluded, Jonathan thanked Mr. Wilson for his time, and the patient was escorted back to his room by a guard. Jonathan turned his attention to Y/n, who had been silently observing.

“What did you think?” he asked, his expression betraying a genuine interest in her perspective.

“You're a really good doctor,” Y/n chuckled softly.

"I appreciate that," Jonathan replied modestly. "It's crucial to establish trust and understanding with the patients here. Each case requires a unique approach."

Y/n nodded in agreement, absorbing the gravity of the therapy session she had witnessed. Jonathan guided her out of the room, and they continued to explore different areas of Arkham, with Jonathan sharing insights into his work and the challenges he faced.

As they walked through the eerie corridors, Y/n couldn't help but feel a mixture of fascination and trepidation. Arkham held a dark allure, and she marveled at the intricate dance between the staff and the troubled individuals confined within its walls.

"So, your next patient?" Y/n inquired curiously.

"I'm sure you've heard of Edward Nigma, otherwise known as the Riddler—a real piece of work, that one," Jonathan remarked.

Y/n felt her heart skip a beat. The Riddler, notorious for creating horrifying traps and puzzels for his victims.

"I'm assuming you're going to sit out on that one?" Jonathan asked.

"Yes, please," Y/n replied.

Jonathan chuckled, understanding her hesitation. "Not a fan of riddles, I take it?"

Y/n smiled nervously. "Let's just say I prefer my challenges to be in textbooks, not in the form of elaborate mind games that may or may not get me killed."

"Well, you're not alone in that sentiment," Jonathan assured her. "Nigma is... unique, to say the least. We'll proceed cautiously, and you can observe from the safety of the mirrored room."

They continued down the hall, passing by cells where other inmates were confined. Each face carried its own story, and the air was thick with an unsettling atmosphere.

As they approached the next room, a heavy door with a small window, Jonathan peered inside. "Edward, good afternoon."

The Riddler, a man with sharp features and an air of arrogance, looked up from his seated position. "Crane, always punctual. Who's this?" He nodded toward Y/n.

"Edward, meet Y/n, a psychology student from Gotham University. She's here to observe our sessions," Jonathan explained.

The Riddler's eyes narrowed as he examined Y/n. "Ah, another curious mind seeking the secrets of the human psyche. Fascinating."

As they entered, Nigma looked up, his eyes locking onto Y/n through the window. A sly smile crossed his face. "Are you here to solve my riddles?"

"She'll just be observing," Jonathan explained, gesturing towards the second room—the observation room.

Y/n's discomfort grew at the Riddlers staring, but she managed a polite nod. Jonathan guided her to the observation room, assuring her of the safety measures in place before going in to talk with Nigma.

From behind the one-way mirror, Y/n observed the intricate dance of intellect between Jonathan and the enigmatic Riddler, realizing that the challenges in the academic world seemed trivial compared to the complexities of Arkham Asylum.

The atmosphere grew more uncomfortable, and Y/n felt a chill run down her spine. She could tell Jonathan was reaching his limit with Edward's antics, his patience visibly waning.

"Riddle me this... how much does the Doll behind the window know?" Edward provocatively inquired, locking eyes with her.

Edward, ever the provocateur, threw a cryptic remark Jonathan’s way, using the unsettling nickname "Doll." She couldn’t understand how he knew where she was behind the window, considering it was a mirror from his side, but he was looking right at her.

Jonathan's reaction was subtle but telling. A momentary pause in his movements, a flash of irritation across his face, and then he composed himself. "My, my, getting lousy with the riddles, are we?" he retorted, his tone laced with thinly veiled frustration.

Edward, undeterred, pressed on, "Then let me ask a question..Why did you really bring her here?...Does she know about Scarecrow?" His tone held a hint of malevolence, making Y/n acutely aware of the dangers potentially surrounding her.

Jonathan decided that enough was enough. "That's it for today, I believe," he declared, swiftly closing his file and rising from his seat.

Edward, seemingly amused by the exchange, reclined in his chair, his laughter lingering as the guard escorted him out of the room. Jonathan approached Y/n, his expression a mix of exhaustion and determination.

Even after that chilling session, Y/n found herself increasingly drawn to the complexities of mental health and the delicate art of psychiatric treatment. As the last session concluded, Jonathan silently walked her back to his office, both seemingly lost in their own thoughts.

Packing away his last thing, Jonathan moved over to Y/n, “Come on…” Jonathan's voice broke the quiet, quietly guiding her out of Arkham, his hand resting on the small of her back.

Reaching his car, Jonathan moved to her side first, holding the door open for her.

"I hope this was an insightful experience for you," he remarked, opening the door for her.

"Absolutely," Y/n replied. "Thank you for the opportunity, Jonathan." She hopped into the car, and Jonathan closed the door behind her before taking his place in the driver's seat.

The day at Arkham had left a lasting impression on Y/n, sparking a newfound interest in the intricacies of the human mind and the challenges faced by those dedicated to healing it.

The occasional streetlight cast shadows across his face as she looked at him from her side. However, her mind couldn't shake the lingering questions from the Riddler's cryptic words at the end of the session. Did Jonathan have another motive for bringing her to Arkham? And what was he referring to with Scarecrow? What was Scarecrow, and what role did Jonathan play in it? The mysteries lingered, casting a shadow on the experience that, despite its profound impact, left Y/n with a sense of curiosity and unanswered questions.

She hadn’t even noticed Jonathan pulling up in front of the University dorms. It took a moment for her to realize that they had arrived, and Jonathan's gesture of opening the car door for her snapped her out of her daydream.

Jonathan opened her door and extended his hand to help her. "Thank you," she expressed meekly as she accepted his assistance.

“Don’t mention it...” Jonathan replied, a subtle smile on his lips.

“...You’ve been so kind to me, Jonathan. I really appreciate it. I honestly couldn't thank you enough,” Y/n conveyed, looking up at him.

“I’m just giving you what you deserve,” Jonathan responded, a warm smile still playing on his lips.

Jonathan walked her to the stairs and as Y/n stood by the entrance of the dorms, she hesitated for a moment, unsure if it was appropriate to ask what had been lingering in her mind.

"Jonathan," she began, "about what the Riddler mentioned... Scarecrow, and your motive for bringing me to Arkham. Is there something more I should know?"

Jonathan's expression shifted ever so slightly, and for a moment, it seemed like he was carefully choosing his words. He leaned against the car, a thoughtful gaze in his eyes.

"The Riddler likes to play games with words," Jonathan began, "and sometimes, the less you know, the safer you are. It's part of Arkham's peculiar charm."

Y/n nodded, understanding that some things might be better left untouched. "Okay..Thank you, Jonathan."

He nodded in return, a sense of mystery lingering in the air. "See you Monday."

With a final nod and a friendly smile, Y/n made her way into the dorms, the encounter at Arkham echoing in her mind.

Monday came around, and Y/n hadn’t stopped thinking about her indirect encounter with the Riddler. The weekend had been filled with a mixture of fascination and apprehension. She went about her usual classes, but the questions surrounding Jonathan's involvement with the Riddler and the cryptic mention of Scarecrow lingered in her mind.

As she entered Professor Crane's psychology class, she couldn't help but wonder if he would address anything related to their visit to Arkham. The room filled with students chatting, the usual buzz before the lecture, but Y/n found herself scanning the room for any signs from Professor Crane.

The door to the classroom swung open, and in walked Professor Crane, looking as composed as ever. He started the class without acknowledging Y/n at all, diving into the lecture material as if it were any other day. Y/n's curiosity grew, but she decided against pressing further, at least during class hours.

After the lecture, as students filed out of the room, Y/n lingered, waiting for the opportune moment to approach Professor Crane. Once the room emptied, she approached his desk.

"Professor Crane," she began, "I've been thinking about our visit to Arkham. I know I shouldn’t, but I haven’t stop thinking about what the Riddler was talking about?"

Professor Crane looked at her, his gaze unreadable for a moment. Then, he sighed, realizing her curiosity wasn't easily deterred.

"Y/n," he started, "Arkham is filled with various personalities, each with their own stories. The Riddler is among many. Some tales are better left in the shadows. Focus on your studies and leave the mysteries of Arkham where they belong."

It was a cryptic response that left Y/n with more questions than answers. She felt unsettled in the way Jonathan was dismissing it so easily.

Jonathan sighed, observing her detachment. "Just forget about it, Nigma is in Arkham for a reason. Don’t take what he says seriously... He’s just trying to mess with your head," Jonathan said.

Y/n nodded. "Okay... sorry about that. I won’t ask again."

"No need to apologize," Jonathan replied, his eyes showing a hint of understanding.

“I’ll be off now,” Y/n said, sensing a slight awkwardness in the air.

“You don’t want to stay?” Jonathan asked, his expression softening.

“Uh... would you like me to?” Y/n inquired, feeling a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty.

“Only if you wish to,” Jonathan said, leaving the decision up to her. The room held a lingering tension, a silent invitation for more conversation or perhaps a shared moment of quiet reflection.

Y/n hesitated for a moment, considering the unspoken offer. Eventually, she decided to stay.

"I don't mind staying for a bit," she said, offering a tentative smile.

Jonathan gestured toward one of the chairs in his office. "Please, have a seat."

As they settled into a conversation about various topics, the atmosphere became more relaxed. Y/n found herself opening up to Jonathan about her experiences and interests, and he reciprocated by sharing anecdotes from his work at Arkham. The initial professional boundaries started to blur, and a genuine connection began to form between them. It was an unexpected and refreshing turn of events for Y/n, adding a new layer to her academic journey.

In the following weeks, Y/n continued to attend Jonathan's office hours, not just for academic assistance but also for the engaging conversations they shared. Their discussions spanned beyond the realm of psychology, delving into personal stories, interests, and even occasional light banter.

As the semester progressed, Y/n found herself becoming more captivated by both the subject matter and her professor's unique approach to teaching. Jonathan's guidance extended beyond the classroom, as he recommended additional readings and shared insights that went beyond the standard curriculum.

The day that followed unfolded in a way Y/n hadn't anticipated. Making her way into Jonathan’s office for their customary daily discussions, she greeted him with a warm "Hiya," bearing a takeaway tray adorned with a coffee and a smoothie – their usual indulgences.

"Evening, Dear," Jonathan reciprocated, his smile adding a touch of warmth to the comfortable atmosphere of his office.

Choosing the inviting couch over the formality of the desk, Y/n settled in, and Jonathan joined her after finishing up his paperwork. The shift in seating only enhanced the coziness, turning their daily talks into a more intimate and relaxed exchange. Y/n handed the cup of coffee to Jonathan, a small gesture in their routine. She indulged in the refreshing sips of her smoothie as Jonathan accepted the coffee.

"Thank you, my Dear," he expressed with a grateful smile.

"Anytime," Y/n responded, the casual exchange feeling comforting.

Sipping her smoothie, she rested her head on the back of the couch, facing Jonathan.

"..I know I said I wouldn't ask again, but.. I just can't shake off what the Riddler was saying..back at Arkham" Y/n said, slowly looking up at Jonathan.

Jonathan huffed, a hint of frustration showing in his expression. "What the Riddler said is not important," he dismissed.

Y/n sat back up, "I know that's not true. I don't understand why you can't just tell—" Y/n was abruptly cut off.

"There's nothing to talk about!" Jonathan suddenly snapped.

The sudden outburst startled Y/n, witnessing a side of Jonathan she wasn’t used to being directed at her. She could feel the tension in the air. Jonathan, realizing his sharp reaction, sighed. Removing his glasses, he rubbed his face with his hand, frustrated.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you. I'm just... trying to protect you, okay?" Jonathan explained, his voice softer, revealing an undercurrent of concern.

"..How is this possibly protecting me? The Riddler was taking about me... I need to know," Y/n insisted. She realized she had pushed too far, but this seemed like something serious that Jonathan was intentionally keeping from her.

Jonathan stood up slowly and approached his office door. Y/n heard the distinct sound of the lock clicking, sending fearful shivers through her body.

"What I am about to tell you cannot leave this room," Jonathan stated with a gravity that heightened Y/n's anxiety.

As Jonathan turned around to face her, setting his coffee down, he sighed and began tapping his feet with his hands on his hips—an unusual display of nervousness. Y/n, taken aback, had never seen Jonathan appear so uneasy.

"I will admit, Y/n, the feelings I have for you are not entirely appropriate," Jonathan confessed, avoiding direct eye contact.

Y/n let out a shaky breath. "What?"

"The real reason I brought you to Arkham was to make you feel special... to show off, even," Jonathan revealed.

Y/n's mind raced back to the Riddler's insinuations about Jonathan's potential ulterior motives for bringing her to Arkham. The revelation left her bewildered and unsure of how to respond.

Y/n tried to push aside Jonathan's unsettling confession, focusing on the second thing the Riddler had mentioned. "So what is Scarecrow?" Y/n inquired, curiosity driving her to seek answers.

She could sense Jonathan's breath hitch. "Scarecrow... is an individual with a fascination for fear," Jonathan explained, his gaze fixed on the ground, hands still on his hips. "I'm sure you've been hearing about the recent patients being admitted to Arkham with strange yet similar symptoms of hallucinations."

"So what does this individual have to do with me?" Y/n pressed further.

"Let's just say... his fascination doesn't stop there," Jonathan replied cryptically.

With each passing moment, Y/n's tension heightened. "Jonathan... who is Scarecrow?" she asked nervously.

"I think you already know," Jonathan responded, finally meeting Y/n's gaze with an intensity that sent a chill down her spine.

Y/n found it difficult to catch her breath as her eyes darted around the room. Setting the forgotten smoothie on the ground beside the couch, Y/n stood up.

"I should probably go," Y/n attempted to make a quick exit past Jonathan, only to be halted by his firm grip on her arm.

The touch made her jolt, but his grasp didn't loosen. "I can't let you leave," Jonathan declared.

"P-please, I promise I won't say anything," Y/n pleaded, feeling tears welling up in her eyes.

"How do I know that?" Jonathan questioned.

Her blood ran cold. "I promise you, I'll do anything," Y/n begged.

Jonathan looked at her curiously. "Anything?"

Y/n gazed at him, her stomach jumping. Acting on an impulse she couldn't quite comprehend, she pulled his face down to hers and kissed him. His eyes widened in shock, but the desperation in the air forced him to give in.

Jonathan couldn't resist, kissing her with a passion he had suppressed for months. His hands moved to Y/n's waist, pulling her closer. In that moment, Y/n thought, this was the perfect distraction.

She slowly moved one of her hands behind her, fumbling for the doorknob. Finally getting a firm grasp on it, she slowly turned the knob to open the door. However, luck was not on her side when the lock clicked loudly, the sound echoing in the room. Her heart dropped, and Jonathan's eyes shot open. Just as Y/n was about to hastily open the door, Jonathan pushed her back, causing her to scream as her body slammed against the door, keeping it firmly closed. Harshly grabbing her arms, he held them above her head.

He stared down at her as tears streamed down her face. "Trying to distract me, huh?" Jonathan said, an evil glint in his eye.

Y/n tried to yank her hands out of his grip, but it proved impossible given the strength he had over her.

"Please, Jonathan! You can't do this!" Y/n cried.

Jonathan brought his face closer to hers, she turned her head in fear, closing her eyes tightly. Jonathan dragged his nose up her neck, breathing against her skin. "I'll do what is necessary," he whispered.

In a desperate attempt, she brought her foot up, trying to stomp on his foot, but that only seemed to anger him more. Jonathan aggressively threw her around and shoved her over his desk, holding her down by her hands again. However, this time, he stood between her legs, preventing her from using them.

Y/n whimpered beneath him, but he remained unyielding. "I never wanted this to happen, but you don't leave me much of a choice," Jonathan spoke through gritted teeth.

"I'm sorry, I'll be nice, but you have to let me go," Y/n pleaded.

"That's not going to happen, my Dear," Jonathan said.

Before Y/n could react, Jonathan swiftly brought his sleeve-covered wrist up to her face, a faint hiss preceding the release of a mysterious puff of gas. Y/n's immediate response was a piercing scream as the unexpected spray hit her face, sending shivers down her spine. The gas had an acrid smell, and as she inhaled, an unsettling sensation crept over her. The world around her started to warp and distort, as if reality itself was bending to the whims of her deepest fears.

Y/n's vision blurred, and her surroundings became an eerie dreamscape. The once-familiar office now transformed into a haunting image. Jonathan's figure morphed, his features elongating and contorting, creating a grotesque visage that sent chills down Y/n's spine.

A sense of dread settled over her, intensifying with every passing moment. As the fear gas took hold, Y/n felt a chilling coldness crawl up her spine. Her body became increasingly heavy, and the room seemed to close in on her, suffocating her in a nightmarish reality. The longer she stared at Jonathan, the more the lines between nightmare and reality blurred, until the gas finally overwhelmed her. Y/n's consciousness waned, slipping into the abyss of her deepest anxieties, and the world around her faded to black as she succumbed to unconsciousness.

Waking up was excruciating, her head pounding with unbearable intensity. Fear pulsed through her, her heart racing in tandem with the throbbing ache in her temples. As she reluctantly opened her eyes, a disorienting mix of darkness and blinding light assaulted her senses. Surveying her surroundings only deepened her confusion; it appeared as though she had awakened in some kind of forest, a surreal landscape that contradicted Gotham's urban reality. Yet, her vision played tricks on her, rendering it impossible to discern between what was real and what was illusion.

“It’s good to see you’re awake, my Dear,” a voice echoed beside her.

Startled, she turned towards the voice, recognizing it but struggling to reconcile the distorted tones with its origin. The person wore a burlap mask, concealing their identity.

“J-Jonathan,” Y/n stammered, feeling a profound sense of weakness.

“I’m giving you a chance to run,” Jonathan declared.

Confused and disoriented, Y/n attempted to question him, but Jonathan interrupted her.

“I'll give you a 30 seconds headstart. If I can't find you, I’ll leave you alone. But if I catch you…I won’t let you go,” he ominously proclaimed.

“J-Jonathan, I can barely see!” Y/n cried.

“Get up, Y/n,” Jonathan commanded.

“Jonath-”

“Get. Up.”

His authoritative tone sent shivers down Y/n's spine. Trembling, she maneuvered to kneel on her knees, only to be met with a searing pain radiating from her ankles. A guttural scream escaped her lips as she gazed down, her vision still distorted. Through the haze, she discerned the ghastly reality – two bells, meticulously sewn into her flesh on either side of her ankles. The skin threaded through them, attempting to heal around the foreign objects. The grotesque sight made her stomach churn, and she screamed in sheer horror.

“What did you do to me! My fucking feet! You fucking bitch!” Y/n cried, her voice filled with rage and terror as she screamed at Jonathan.

He sighed before grabbing her by the arm roughly and pulling her to her feet. She sobbed, attempting to push Jonathan away, but his strength prevailed, keeping her on her unsteady feet.

“Listen, Y/n... I’ll give you a minute to get ready, but after that, you have to run... I don’t want to hurt you,” Jonathan said, his voice carrying an unsettling mix of calm and sincerity.

“You fucking liar! You put bells on my fucking feet! You gassed me! You have no fucking intentions of letting me go!” Y/n tried shoving Jonathan, her desperation evident, but his unwavering strength proved impossible.

Y/n felt a mix of fear and desperation as the distorted voice of Jonathan haunted her in the dark forest. The minute he gave her felt like an eternity, her mind racing with confusion and terror. She could barely comprehend what had happened to her – the bells on her feet, the agonizing pain, the disorienting surroundings.

As the seconds ticked away, Y/n attempted to collect herself. She fumbled to her feet, the pain shooting through her legs with each movement. She desperately wiped away her tears, trying to focus on her surroundings. The distorted voices in her head urged her to find a way out, to escape from this nightmare.

"Jonathan, please!" she pleaded, her voice shaky and weak.

But Jonathan remained silent, hidden behind the burlap mask, his presence lingering in the shadows. The ominous silence amplified Y/n's anxiety as the countdown continued. The forest seemed to close in on her, each shadow playing tricks on her mind.

As Y/n continued to struggle against Jonathan's grip, he finally let her go. She stumbled backward, her vision still blurry and disoriented. Tears streamed down her face as she realized the gravity of her situation.

“Your minute is up, Y/n,” Jonathan said coldly.

Panicking, Y/n attempted to move, but the pain in her ankles was excruciating. The bells on her feet jingled with each step, amplifying her fear. She could barely see the distorted figures of trees around her, unsure of where to go.

Jonathan's distorted voice echoed, “Run, Y/n. Run if you want to escape.”

With her heart pounding in her ears, Y/n turned around and limped forward, desperately trying to navigate the nightmarish forest. The fear of being caught and the pain in her feet merged into a tormenting symphony.

Every step felt like agony, the pain from her ankles shooting through her with every move. Determined, Y/n forced herself to pick up the pace, only to be met with the relentless jingle of the bells on her feet, echoing through the unsettling silence of the distorted forest. Her screams of frustration reverberated, a desperate attempt to drown out the haunting sound. Uncertain of the reality around her, Y/n pushed herself forward, driven by the primal instinct to escape from the unknown horrors lurking in the shadows.

The echoing chime of the bells attached to her feet seemed to resonate through the eerie forest, an ominous soundtrack to her desperate flight. Despite the seemingly impossible task of escaping undetected, Y/n pressed on, fueled by fear and rage.

Tears streamed down her face as she navigated the distorted landscape, grappling with the stark contrast between the professor she respected and this nightmarish pursuer. Regret and self-blame consumed her thoughts as she questioned whether she had unknowingly unlocked a darker side of Jonathan Crane or if this twisted game had been his true nature all along.

As the forest blurred around her, Y/n couldn't gauge how much time had passed, but the feeling of being hunted intensified with every breath.

The shadows danced around her, but Y/n had more pressing concerns. The closest forest was on the outskirts of Gotham, and by her knowlegde, this wasn’t it. The trees surrounding her didn't match the familiar landscape. Adding to the surreal experience, the echoing sounds of concrete beneath her feet contradicted the visual illusions that played out around her.

Although the effects of the gas were gradually diminishing, the horror lingered. Trees transformed into buildings, and lampposts seemed to sprout from the ground, creating a nightmarish dreamscape that defied the logic of Gotham's familiar streets.

Navigating the unnaturally morphing terrain was challenging on its own, but the addition of bells sewn to her ankles introduced a cruel twist to Y/n's desperate attempt to escape. A sharp turn around a building resulted in the bells grazing against a rough surface, tearing at her delicate skin. Agonizing pain shot up her legs, forcing her to collapse in sheer torment. A cry of pain escaped her lips, quickly stifled in the realization that Jonathan could be lurking anywhere, ears attuned to her distress.

As she sat on the ground, cradling her injured foot, hot tears streamed down her face. The sight of her foot revealed a troubling scene – it was red, irritated, and blood slowly trickled to the ground. Cursing under her breath, she was foolishly leaving a trail of breadcrumbs, marking her path for Jonathan to follow.

Defeated and desperate, Y/n closed her eyes, surrendering to the overwhelming hopelessness that enveloped her. Resting her head against the wall behind her, she weeped. She damned from the very beginning. Jonathan's idea of escape left her grappling with uncertainty – was his definition of ‘escape’ merely leaving this immediate area, contacting the police, or leaving Gotham altogether? Didn’t matter, she didn’t know.

Even if Y/n managed to ‘escape’, she knew all too well that Jonathan wouldn't simply let her be. Having spent months in his company, she had learned that determination and obsession defined him. The prospect of escaping his clutches seemed increasingly elusive, leaving Y/n trapped in a sinister game of hide and seek.

Refusing to succumb to hopelessness against the wall, Y/n gathered her remaining strength. She couldn't accept this as the end; she needed to keep going. Rising to her feet with deliberate determination, she carried on moving. Instead of running, which would only amplify the bells' noise and her exhaustion, Y/n pressed on with a steady walk. She was determined not to let Jonathan's twisted game break her spirit.

Undoubtedly, the blood marked her path, but Y/n had no other choice. Pressing forward was her only option. The effects of the gas seemed to have worn off, revealing a less distorted reality, albeit no less grim. She recognized that she was now in the Narrows, but the specific location remained a mystery.

As she moved cautiously ahead, a voice, dripping with malevolence, echoed from behind her. "I see my Dear has hurt herself..." Her blood ran cold. She didn't need to turn around to know she was in deep trouble.

The tears flowed freely down Y/n's face. "Why are you doing this?"

Jonathan remained silent, a chilling stillness in the air. He took a step forward, and instinctively, she took one back.

"Please..."

Suddenly, Jonathan lunged forward, catching her off guard. Y/n had no time to react as he tackled her to the ground, his weight pinning her down. She screamed and thrashed, the muffled sounds of her distress lost in the indifferent hum of Gotham's background noise. People in nearby buildings likely heard, but in a city like Gotham, such cries often went unanswered.

"Like a doe that's been shot," Jonathan spoke in a low, unsettling tone near her ear.

A syringe emerged from his pocket, and panic surged through her. She squirmed and fought, but his hold was unyielding. The needle pierced her upper thigh, and a sudden rush of paralysis coursed through her body. As consciousness waned, she heard Jonathan's remorseful voice.

"I'm sorry, Y/n," he uttered, holding her captive on the unforgiving ground.

"I thought you were my friend.." Y/n cried, her voice echoing in the desolation of the Narrows.

The world around Y/n blurred as the drug took effect, robbing her of control over her own body. Jonathan's mask became an indistinct smudge, but his unsettling presence still lingered. The last words she heard before succumbing to unconsciousness were Jonathan's remorseful apology, leaving her with a sense of betrayal and a haunting question: What had she done to deserve this? -

A/N: I think it's pretty clear by now I have a chasing(Prey/Predator) kink🧍‍♀️I don't know about you guys, but I want that adrenaline rush of being chased by an obsessive man 😫🤚 Thank you for reading and I hoped you enjoyed it. My requests are open for feel free to request 💚

#batman #the dark knight #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #jonathan crane fanfic #dark!jonathan crane #scarecrow #professor crane #dr crane #professor crane x reader #professor jonathan crane #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy x reader #Dark!Jonathan Crane #Batman scarecrow #dark!scarecrow

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legacygirlingreen · 5 months

Text

The Nose Knows // Sebastian Sallow x MC

This was a collaboration with @darch7995 ! I had so much fun writing this. It’s your classic amortentia story with a twist!

Warnings: some angst but ends good!

Word count: 4k

Here is a link to her audio: part 1 , part 2

She hadn’t intended to be so late for class, but when Professor Garlic had asked for additional help repotting mandrakes she could hardly say no, as the witch had always been polite as could be. The only issue was she had lost track of time. Barreling through the door to the potions classroom, she cringed as she saw the faces of all her fellow peers turning towards her hasty entrance and the face of Aesop Sharp turn sour at her late arrival.

“How nice of you to join us MC. Perhaps a worthy investment would be a watch as you seem incapable of keeping the time. Detention-“ he started and she begged him.

“Please professor I was helping Professor Garlic and we lost track of time-“ she pleaded and he looked at her, still unsure.

“And if I address this with Professor Garlic she will confirm this as well?” He asked her and she nodded.

“Of course Sir.”

“Fine. But come to the front of the class, identify our lesson today since you are avoiding detention on the grounds you were late.” He told her and she panicked.

Carefully setting down her things and whipping her dirt soaked hands on her skirt she started towards the front of the room. She caught the eyes of some of her classmates. Garreth gave her a reassuring grin and Imelda smirked, always competitive with her. Poppy gave her an apprehensive look, to which she would ponder later and when she finally noticed Sebastian, leaning in with curiosity she decided to give identification of the mystery potion a shot ignoring the looks she received.

Professor Sharp handed her a potion bottle, completely blacked out, not revealing the color of the potion. Color was usually the easier identifier of any potion so she’d had to get creative. Uncorking the bottle she attempted to catch a whiff of any particular ingredients used.

Letting the smells fill her senses she became utterly confused, her face twisting as her eyebrows drew and she once again took a whiff of the potion for confirmation at the overwhelming but unique liquid.

“What the-“ she asked confused as people in the class giggled.

“Relying on all of one’s senses for potion identification is integral, especially with the more volatile and dangerous concoctions. When items have been laced with potions or poisons you will not be able to use color as an identifiable agent, so would you be so kind to elaborate to the class what the potion smells of and perhaps your classmates might be able to help you identify this particular brew” Professor Sharp offered and she once again took a whiff, finally being able to separate the multiple smells to which she encountered.

“That’s the thing professor - none of the things I smell are reminiscent of any potion ingredients I am aware of…” she tried to reason and the man continued.

“Then what do you smell?” He asked her, feigning intrigue while knowing full well what he was asking her to reveal. A small amount of embarrassment often went far in discouraging students from being late to class.

She looked up as some of her classmates gave her an awkward glance and she noticed Natsi’s eyes grow with a small shake of her head telling her not to reveal what it was. Confused, she raised an eyebrow as the professor responded.

“We don’t have all day, perhaps another one of your classmates is more capable...”

“I smell… parchment, like the dusty old books that students have long forgotten in the library. I also smell fire… not any ordinary fire, but the strong Smoky smell you’d attribute to spells like incendio or confringo… and lastly I smell-“ she trailed off realizing exactly what fragrance she had identified, yet she realized it had come from across the table and not the liquid.

It was a fragrance so holistically masculine in nature. She immediately recognized the cedar wood and bergamot undertones, that blended with whatever spices warmed her cheeks whenever she was privy enough to catch a whiff lingering on his skin. Any time they studied together in the undercroft she was easily lightheaded when he’d lean over to see something in her notes and she could indulge in the fragrance he kept from an area she believed was under his ears but she couldn’t be quite sure.

She was reminded of the one time he’d lent her his scarf and she couldn’t stop smelling the green fabric as his cologne had lingered to the knit so intoxicatingly. She could recall the first time she’d ever realized that he’d taken to wearing it - some time at the start of 6th year, he’d approached her and something about the way his warm body, now accentuated by the fragrance warmed her cheeks to the point that he worried she had the chill, led to the back of his hand stroking her cheeks with worry. She assured him everything was okay, but he never quite let it go.

But perhaps she could just smell the fragrance directly, not in the potion, given he was so close to the table. He was directly across from her, staring intently at what she was holding. Without realizing her critical error she calmly told the professor.

“I smell Sebastian’s cologne, but that’s mostly since he’s standing so close to the table and likely went a little heavy handed again with it” she joked and when no one responded for a second she grew confused. Immediately Imelda called out from the back row with a loud laugh.

“Oh this is rich. Our resident troll slayer is in love with Sallow”

Looking down she immediately realized her fatal error, once again wafting the potion and realizing that the smell had in fact come from the bottle, not across the table like she’d thought.

Immediately she felt sick to her stomach, realizing that professor sharp likely had thrown a love potion she was unfamiliar with into her hands as she corked the bottle and handed it back to him.

“I - I don’t know what this is sir… I apologize for being late” she said, voice faltering as she felt a small bit of moisture pooling in the corner of her eye as she looked down to avoid the stares she felt. The room was still whispering and chuckling at her mistake and she refused to meet their eyes.

“Would anyone else like to inform our late classmate what potion she has neglected to identify?” He asked, completely uncaring of her embarrassment as she quickly worked around the table, finding Poppy by identifying her muddy shoes and slightly frayed gray and yellow plaid skirt. Still refusing to look up she heard Amit confirm her fears as he awkwardly explained.

“Amortentia. The love potions. Often identifiable by its fragrance or pearlescent appearance.” He said, hoping to leave it at that but Professor Sharp seemingly had it in for her today as he pressed the ravenclaw for more information.

“And what of it’s fragrance Mr Takar? Explain your classmates' findings?” He asked

“Well um… it smells different to every person based on what or who is attractive to them… MC smelt books, fire and… cologne… since that is what she is attracted to, " Amit said and she didn’t have to look up to know the boy was grimacing while explaining the results to the class.

She felt a hand on hers as Poppy leaned in to whisper in her ear. “I’m so sorry MC… I can talk to Professor Garlic since she’s the head of my house if you’d like… explain the situation since you were only late to help her "Poppy offered quickly and she shook her head, looking up at the hufflepuff just as a tear leaked out of the corner of her eye.

“The damage is already done, Poppy. Let’s just focus on the lesson.” She said, brushing the tear off before it fell too far, turning back to the front and putting on the best brave face she could muster, hoping her tone would be enough to sully her friends worry over what had happened.

At the conclusion of the lesson, she bolted as fast as she could from the classroom, ignoring the many concerned people calling after her and pressing on faster as she heard continued laughter from Imelda Reyes and Samantha Dale.

Quickly turning the corner she bolted through the library annex, rushing off towards the greenhouses and taking a sharp left. She could hear someone following her and she would recognize those footsteps anywhere.

“MC wait!” Sebastian called out behind her.

Panicking she saw the familiar owl statue and in a hasty decision she dove for it, turning the wall as she slipped behind the secret alcove just in time. Resting carefully on the other side in relief she heard the footsteps falter just outside in the hallway.

“Sebastian, slow down” Ominis said as she held her breath hoping Sebastian hadn’t seen the wall shifting but his frustrated sigh let her know he had not a clue where she slipped away too.

“She’s gone.” Sebastian said and she could tell by his tone he was concerned.

“I’m sure that she will be alright… she’s just embarrassed… give her some time to collect herself” Ominis explained and something about the phrasing easily agitated Sebastian

“Oh yes because being associated with me is embarassing Ominis, wonderful vote of confidence” Sebastian responded.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. I hardly think she’s embarrassed of you, just embarrassed at how that information, the kind of things people like to remain personal, was just ousted to the classroom like that.” Ominis tried to be the calm and level head they needed, to which she was grateful. As she sunk to the floor she decided to continue to listen.

“Stupid, foul, git Professor Sharp. I always hated that man you know” Sebastian said and Ominis chuckled.

“I’m not sure you should be cursing the man when he accidentally revealed the information you’ve been dying to know for such a long time” Ominis explained.

Information Sebastian wanted to know?

“Not like that. Did you see the way she absolutely crumbled after she realized her mistake?” Sebastian asked

“Shockingly enough Sebastian I can’t say I did see the ordeal” Ominis responded with a chuckle, referring to his inability to see in an attempt to alleviate some of the stress.

“I’m fairly certain I saw her crying next to Poppy in the corner Ominis… wait perhaps Poppy knows where she ran off too, let’s go see if she knows anything” Sebastian explained and she could hear his footsteps moving away from the alcove.

“Sebastian, it may just be best to let her come to you when she’s ready…” Ominis said and that was the last thing she heard before their voices got too far from the door for her to hear.

————————————————

Luckily the ordeal had occurred during her last class on friday, giving her the entire week to hide from everyone. Using the time to explore the highlands, and the frustration to crush another one of Imelda’s flying records - or perhaps that was more out of spite for the slytherin girl’s less than tactful response in class - she spent very little time at the castle. Only slinking back in right before curfew and refusing to speak to any of her dorm mates.

When Monday morning reared it’s ugly head, she slunk down to the kitchens, avoiding the great hall entirely and finding Feenky the house elf who was kind enough to slip her some breakfast before she waited until the absolute last second before strolling into the back of class. Quickly slipping out at the conclusion of each lesson, ignoring those speaking to her, she wandered the school like a ghost.

She had maintained that the whole week and Friday eventually rolled around, having been a full week since everything had occurred.

In every class she could feel him staring but she refused to look in his direction. She just wasn’t ready to face him yet or hear his rejection. She knew that despite how embarrassed she was, he likely felt worse knowing he shared common rooms with Imelda and she could hear their classmates frequently teasing him about it, along with his threat of “knock it off”.

Eventually she came to realize that at some point she would need to face the boy again and that continuing to prolong this endeavor would only make it worse, yet she worried over how to acknowledge what had happened. Could she pretend it never occurred? Would he want an explanation? Would his rejection be kind? And what had Ominis meant by the words he’d spoken in the hall?

Sighing, she stood from her desk at the conclusion of Professor Hecat’s class, traversing the length of the room and seeing Sebastian with his back turned to her, in some form of a heated argument between himself and Imelda.

Summoning some of that gryffindor bravery Natty was so well known for, she tapped him on the shoulder, cowering beneath his tall frame as he turned around to face her. Surprised to see her he let out a gasp as she avoided his eyes.

“MC…” he said

“Might we have a word” she said glancing down below them before finally meeting his eye after signaling the undercroft below their feet. “In private,” she added.

“Of course” he told her, immediately abandoning the heated discussion between himself and his housemates. She watched as Ominis scolded Imelda before reaching for Sebastian’s discarded things as she left with Sebastian in tow.

Once outside the classroom she could feel all eyes on them in the hallway and tried her best to put on a brave face and ignore it. Attempting to lighten the situation she said, “wow I feel like I’ve had more attention and eyes on me in the last few days than I did after the battle under the school” and he chuckled.

“Leave it to teenagers to be more interested in crushes than mortal danger or goblin rebellions. The way even you fall asleep in Professor Binns’s class should tell you people care more about the personal lives of their peers than the historic moments” he countered and she knew he was right.

“I suppose you’re right.” She said as they rounded the bottom of the stairs and made sure no one was watching before slipping into the underCroft in silence.

“I just-“

“About what-“

They both started at the same time and both paused.

“You first” he insisted and she shook her head.

“I believe I’ve spoken enough, you should say what you were going to” she argued and he silently nodded.

“I’m sorry about what happened in class. It was really foul what Professor Sharp did. He didn’t need to embarrass you like that… I’m sure it wasn’t fun having your um… feelings exposed like that when you were only trying to make a joke…” he said gently, trying to convey he truly felt for her. After he found Poppy, the Hufflepuff and Ominis were able to convince him, against his very obsessive and compulsive nature, to allow her some time to settle her emotions. As difficult as it had been for him all weekend not seeing her and worried about how upset she might be, he did his best to avoid everywhere she often went - the undercroft, hogsmeade, the library and the astronomy tower - just out of respect for her hurt feelings.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you either” she said with a sigh

“Why would I be embarrassed?” He asked her confused

“Because I - you were there.” She didn’t want to have to voice it again.

“I know. But why would what happen embarrass me? If anything a small part of me is thankful that I know I just…” he trailed off and she waited for the rejection to come.

She sucked in a breath as she closed her eyes waiting for him to just rip the bandage off. She could take it. And she mentally had prepared for it in the whole week she’d spend avoiding him.

Instead she felt him grab her hand gently, his own shaking slightly as she opened her eyes in confusion. In his other hand she saw a small vile.

“I uh, didn’t think it was fair that you were the only one who had to explain what amortentia smells like to you…” he said holding up the pink shimmering potion.

“So you brewed more of that vulgar concoction that caused this whole mess?” She asked teasingly despite the lump in her throat.

“Can you give that a whiff?” He asked her gently, passing it off and she sighed and nodded, uncorking it and having the familiar smell of fire, books and cologne overtake her senses once more.

“Smells like amortentia. 10 points to slytherin.” She confirmed with an awkward laugh as she handed him back the vial.

“Perfect.” He said with a small grin, taking it back from her before removing the topper and taking a whiff of it himself.

“Mallowsweet” he told her.

“What?”

He gestured to the small pocket on her belt that he knew always contained the small herb, it’s unique fragrance always clinging to her and apparent when she stood close by.

“Mallowsweet. You always have some on you, in that pouch for those Merlin trials you showed me during our fifth year.”

“What about it?” She asked confused and he lifted the amortentia vial again, taking a whiff as his eyes fluttered shut and he replied with a spell bound tone.

“I smell it in amortentia”

She gasped realizing he was explaining what the potion smelled like to him.

“Sebastian you don’t have to-“

“Heathers. Like the ones growing in your vivarium where you keep the Phoenix. You smell like them and I know they are your favorite flower. I know to most they are just weeds but you always pick them to put in your books or pockets and it’s just so endearing to see how much you adore something that to everyone else is worthless but you think they are pretty. I love laying in the grass with you and getting to read outside even when it’s the winter because it’s always warm in the room of requirement and you look so pretty just laying amongst the Heather with a book in hand.”

She didn’t reply as he went on. He reached forward, grabbing her wrist and lifting it to his face, placing the delicate ball of his nose against the inside of wrist and inhaling with a sigh.

“And that perfume you bought in Hogsmeade with Poppy during our 6th year. Merlin I remember when you borrowed my scarf, and the day I got it back I couldn’t help but smell your perfume lingering on it for weeks. Any time you adjust your hair or you lean in to whisper something in class I just can’t help but notice it”

“Sebastian…” she whispered as he let go of her wrist and opened his eyes.

“All I smell in amortentia is you.” He confirmed and she looked at him as her eyes softened.

“You do read a lot in front of fireplaces” she told him with a quiet sigh.

“I also forgot to put on my cologne that morning,” he admitted as she gasp.

“What?”

“I was running late and I forgot to put it on that morning. I wasn’t even wearing it the day we had potions. In fact right when you burst in the door Ominis was telling me how much I needed to bathe since I got sweaty at crossed wands and the lack of cologne didn’t help.” Sebastian admitted to her with a chuckle.

“I - well that’s something… she faltered, realizing he truly did have confirmation the whole time she had feelings for him.

“Let me take you to hogsmeade sometime. A proper date?” He offered.

“You don’t have to do that. Proper first dates are for people who don’t really know one another… I feel we already know so much about each other…” she said softly as he nodded, tracing the side of his finger down her arm before he reached her hand where he laced their fingers together.

“Fair enough, but I wouldn’t feel right just kissing you without at the very least being a gentleman first”

“Sebastian Sallow, you want to kiss me?” She teased him as she chuckled

“I think asking you out on a proper date, which you seem to have rejected might I add, as well as admitting to smelling you in the most powerful love potion known to wizard kind would confirm that yes I do indeed want to kiss you” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, however his reddened cheeks gave away his nervousness.

Leaning up on her tiptoes and she gently pressed a kiss to the side of his cheek before pulling away, smiling at his nervous and shocked expression.

“Fine. You’ve convinced me we can go on to hogsmeade on a date. Then you can kiss me” she teased.

“Wait no, I take it back, come on I think we know each other well enough for a little kissing, don’t you” he asked desperately trying to pull her back against him as she ducked under his arm with a laugh.

“No you’re right Sebastian… it just wouldn’t be proper for you to kiss me without being a gentleman first “ she quoted him running off behind one of the large posts in the undercroft before casting disillusionment.

“Not fair MC” he groaned as she snickered, sneaking up behind him. Right when she thought she had him he turned around, grabbing her and in the panic the spell was dropped.

“No more hiding from me MC. This last week has been torture” he admitted and she smiled

“But it’s so fun” she replied and he rolled his eyes at her, holding her closer to him.

“Hmm I suppose I could be persuaded….” She told him.

“How so?” He asked

“Kiss me.” She demanded and he didn’t reply, instead lowering his lips to her own as they kissed. His soft lips claimed her own with a mix of gentleness and firmness that left her feeling warm. The scratch of his recently shaved stubble lightly grazing her upper lip as they carefully moved their mouths together.

Breaking away she giggled.

“What is it now?” He asked feigning annoyance as he tried to lean in once again with a small grin on his face.

“I am going to need to borrow your scarves on occasion you know? I meant it when I said that your cologne is quite intoxicating..” she purred while leaning into his neck.

“Only if they come back smelling like you” he offered in rebuttal.

“I think that can be arranged,” she said once again, connecting their lips as the rest of the world melted away in the dim light of the undercroft.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow/reader #sebastian sallow x slytherin!reader #fluff #hogwarts legacy fandom #anne sallow #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy fanfic

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forthelostones · 6 months

Text

𝚙𝚝.𝚝𝚠𝚘 ; 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 ─── ⋆

⟡⋆˙୨ᥫ᭡. 𝚗𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚞 - 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎!𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚢 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ᥫ᭡.୧⋆˙⟡

synopsis: abby was a woman whose presence was becoming deeply irresistible to you. in your final year of nursing school, you toil with the idea of pursuing her — ruin what you have or enjoy what’s in front of you?

warnings. 18+ (mdni); sub!abby (eventually), mini slowburn, suggestive language, jealousy, nora & mel & ellie ft, smoking/drinking, mentions of parental death, nickname: dummy, and modern au - pre-established relation.

an: hi everyone, waaaa thanks for all the follows! i appreciate you all sooo soo much. this is something i just thought of idk, maybe a series who knows! i am thinking abt putting this on ao3 too!

(no y/n)

wc: 4.3k

pt one.

Alarm. Dress. Meet Abby. Go. Today was a lecture day and although long, at least you got to sleep in a little this morning. The only thing is Abby is always locked in and there’s no way to get her out of that headspace. She doesn’t take unnecessary breaks or doodles, she is virtually a perfect student. But you sit beside her scrolling through your notes, unamused.

Abby’s head is downwards, with her braid falling over her shoulder, focused on the presentation. Her hand moves quickly as she writes all the details down, while you type mindlessly. You notice how her bulging veins dress her hand peak-a-booing out of her cardigan. The way she gripped her pen enhanced the greenish threads under her skin as she drew diagrams and large title cards. Why was everything about her attractive, you thought. Mel was sitting next to you with her laptop open, scrolling on Pinterest, mumbling. Her clique of girls speak in what they think is a hushed whisper, but it's just a poor attempt. You feel your lips forming to sh them.

“Hey.” Abby snaps, holding direct eye contact with Mel.

Mel looks over her screen with disgust, like she just wished death upon her. But that lasts only a minute before they start up again and Abby sighs, slamming her pen on the desk which causes your professor to turn and look in your direction.

“Ladies, let’s focus.” She said.

At the 30-minute break, Abby stormed out of the lecture hall and you followed behind like a lost puppy. She stood in the hallway with her hands above her head, inhaling and exhaling with her eyes closed, counting silently. She rolled her shoulders back and finally looked to find your eyes. Which calmed her for a moment — seeing you there.

“Y’know what pisses me off about that Mel?”

She said her name like a swear word.

You were taken aback at the anger bubbling inside of her. Her calm demeanor was all you knew, she avoided conflict, never raised her voice but seeing her like this pang in your heart unlike anything else.

“She only acts like that because she doesn’t have the mental capacity to comprehend what’s going on. Not everyone can just throw their life away, some of us actually have to work for what we want.”

Her eyes were wide, her fists curled, and her lips tight. You walk over to her and just wrap your arms around her. She was reluctant to reciprocate but eventually did — give into you, and fell into your arms. Her hands linger on your lower back, tugging you.

“They don't understand.” Her voice cracked.

You knew what this was about, it was about her dad. You saw how reluctant she was to go into detail about him last night. She just changed the subject. You didn’t know what illness he passed away from, if any, she wouldn’t go that far.

“Abby, I know. They don’t.” You reply pulling away sooner than you both would like.

She composed herself and peered at your welcoming eyes and she suddenly forgot where she stood. In the middle of a high-traffic hallway, filled with the rustling of scrubs. Her hands came up onto your shoulders and she nodded her head. “You’re right and I can’t fault them for that, can I?”

The rest of class was incredibly quiet.

As you both stood at the entryway of your apartments you felt like you wanted to spend more time with her. Just because. You slid your key into the lock and swatted the thoughts away. “Dummy?” She asked.

“There’s a party today, uh, some sorority thing. I don’t really know anyone else going—“

“Yes, yea absolutely.”

You smiled at her and then closed your door with excitement, maybe too much?

Abby wasn’t sure what came over her, after overhearing the other nursing students she thought it would be nice to go out, since it had been three years. That text from Nora was burning her phone, flames encased it so brightly that she didn’t go on her phone all day.

After pouring a glass of wine and stripping to get in the shower she stood in the mirror examining her body. Checking her back out, quads, and glutes… she didn’t know why but looking at herself was so invigorating. She pulled her phone out and snapped a photo, forearm covering her chest, gently flexing. Her eyes brightly admired her frame and debated sending it to Nora. She had never taken a nude photo before let alone sent it to someone. She shook her head reaching into the shower, turning the knob, and throwing that thought aside.

When she was showering all she could think about was your embrace earlier. It was unusual for her to be held — well have human contact at all. She wasn’t one for physical touch, but in that moment she yearned for more. She wet her hair and paused, rekindling the memory in her mind, how you smelled, your warmth, and how she felt — safe.

She didn’t want to admit it to you this morning but she stayed up last night after you left. She replayed the quick events as she rinsed her hair, visualizing sections of your face behind her eyelids.

As she was on her last full body rinse, there you stood on the other side of her apartment door knocking, slightly startling her.

“Wait!” She hollered from the bathroom.

Quickly wrapping herself in her white towel, wet feet trailing to the front door, she peeped out the hole to see you nervously awaiting her arrival. “Hi, oh shit. You were showering, right. Sorry. I just, I should’ve texted you, but if you wanted to get ready at mine you can.” You said casually.

Abby felt your eyes flick toward her collarbones, making her pull the towel taut.

“Yea perfect, leave the door open for me ‘kay?”

After closing the door Abby became self-conscious instantly. Her sopping hair clinging to her wet face made her feel strange, especially with your lingering eyes. Abby wasn’t the type to rush but she wanted to be closer to you as quickly as she could. She blew her hair dry, finished her wine, and got dressed in twenty minutes, already walking through your front door.

She had never actually ever seen your apartment in its full glory. It was cluttered by her standards, decorated by yours. “Hey Dummy, it’s me.”

You peered your head out of your bedroom and welcomed her to help you pick an outfit. You sighed at Abby fully dressed, all ready to go, and completely misunderstanding the concept of getting ready together.

“So, I was thinking of this combo.” You say, breaking her wandering eyes from your unpolished bedroom.

Abby looked at your dress, long sleeve, black number, comfortable and easy. She imagined you in it and it made her tense as her mind began to wonder.

“That’s pretty.” She replied eagerly.

You were in your silk robe that wasn’t very well at hiding what was underneath, she became flush and attempted to focus on the stitching on the dress or something. But when you bent over to reach for the next item you laid out on your bed she fought herself to look away. Your skin was freshly moisturized and the scent filled her nose so instinctively making her nostrils twitch with pleasure.

“I think so too, but I also have this. I used to wear this a lot, I don’t know. Should I try them on for you?”

You showed her a dark brown number with a swoop back, flowing out at the knee in a wing-like manner. She thought about how high up the hem of the bottom was and blinked her eyes vigorously, unsure if this was a dream or not. She said no words but just nodded her head.

“Okay, let me change, there’s tequila on top of the fridge.”

Abby pulled her hands into her carpenter-style jacket and retrieved the liquor. She took the bottle, no glasses, and waited for you at your dining table. Her forehead was misty with beads of sweat looking for an escape, she felt sheepish at how turned on she got from looking at your body. What the fuck is wrong with me, she thought.

You walk out in the black dress and look at her eyelids lifting at the fabric hugging your body. She brings her hand to her chin as you do a spin for her and then pose. Abby watches you walk towards her in what she swears is slow motion, and straightens her back as her eyes drift up and down your body. She looked completely hypnotized by you. You reach for the bottle, removing the cap in a swift motion and then bringing it to your lips. Abby latched onto each of your movements. In her comatose state, she made it a mission to let it be known at that moment that she was yours. Her thick eyelashes hung heavy as she watched you move your hand to her chin, lifting it and pouring a shot directly into her throat. As her lips came to a close you swiped her chin.

“I like this dress a lot.” She said, now having an excuse to peer down at your body.

“Me too,” you smiled. “Let me show you the brown one.”

She couldn’t refuse the pleasure of watching your ass switch as you went to change. She took another pour into her mouth and shook off the heat coming from her core and throat. You threw your arms up and spun again.

“I like both but the black one, it’s— it’s really pretty.”

“So, I’ll wear that one then.”

Abby felt a light bubble form in her stomach from your willingness to listen to her and do as you’re told. She watched your hips sway into your bedroom, just moments after she realized her jaw was set like a rock, wide open, admiring your ass.

Abby held all the doors open for you as you exited the apartment building, which rendered small thank you’s from under your breath. The sound of your boots clattering against the pavement filled both, you and Abby’s ears, prying at the silence in the air. She looked exceptionally clean tonight, most days you don’t see her outside of her uniform but today, you were really mesmerized by her. You questioned if it was the drinks you consumed or just her sweet scent enticing you.

Her black boxy tee was blanketed in a woody sage perfume, just nipping above the hem of her dark-washed denim that was slouching below her hips, exposing the skin around her navel.

“I haven’t been to a party in a while,” she sighed.

You smiled at hearing her voice within the stillness.

“Me too, I’m glad you invited me.” You reply. She peers over to you with a bewitching smirk that makes your cheeks hot.

“To be honest, I wouldn’t have wanted to go with anyone else.” She says matter-of-factly, not knowing how sweet her words sound. You think of a reply, but nothing seems good enough at the moment.

You both slip side glances at each other as the moon shimmered on your skin. You kept tucking your hands in your hair and adjusting accordingly. In this moment, you became conscious of how close you two were huddled together. Occasionally her knuckles would tickle yours and she’d hum a sorry, but you couldn’t help to indulge in the brief moments of her touch.

The house party was secluded, the bass of the shitty music vibrating the outside of the porch that was sprinkled with stoners and nicotine rats. Abby grabs your wrist to guide you up the steps sees your dress ride up your bottom and gently tugs it down, following behind you. Your mind buzzed with the image of her hand drifting further.

You pull open the jagged screen door and inhale the miles of smoke trailing outside. You look over your shoulder to see Abby retreat into her turtle shell and instantly become turned off. You reach for her hand and clasp it, to which she refuses and intertwines them, tying her clammy hand into yours. Your palm pushes wet bodies to find a corner worth standing in. The house was crumbling under the music and clabbering feet.

Abby saw you were struggling to plow your way through the crowd so she took the lead. Her eyes were like darts, locking in on the target. She used her elbow as a driving force, the pull of her weight had you tripping over your feet. You ended up at steps going towards the basement, florescent with colored lights. The vibe was mellow and not as many people were here. After hitting the last step, you feel the release of compression from Abby’s hand, and you casually cross your arms.

“You good?” She asks, hand softly grazing your hip as she leans in.

All you can muster is a nod.

The room was surprisingly cold, the old basement that had been decorated in FSL graffiti and memorabilia. In the corner was Mel and her friends from class who instantly spotted you and Abby like a sore thumb. Sitting on the couch were two women, legs laid on top of each other, sharing a dab pen. The brooding brunette peered over at you and you swore you could hear her voice by the look coming from her eyes. Abby taps your shoulder and gestures to all your classmates who are now loudly offering drink service. Mel lifts a bottle of flavorless vodka to Abby’s lips, pouring it into her mouth, while nursing her open jaw.

“Good job, Anderson.” She practically moans. You’re unsure if she’s being condescending or flirtatious, either way, you become uncomfortable.

Mel was in a mini skirt and a tube top, both white and pristine. Her hair was pinned back and tied in a low bun, embellished with a pink silk bow. Her makeup was simple but flagrant, enhancing her features so beautifully and highlighting her predator eyes on Abby.

Suddenly, after handing you both a shot, Mel’s perfectly polished fingernails were gripping Abby’s strong shoulder. Massaging it and laughing as if she hasn’t been an asshole to her for almost four years. Obliviously, Abby just continued to collect shots from Mel, being drawn into every string pouring out of her mouth. You follow shortly behind but are left out of the conversation, standing behind Abby, watching like the Secret Service. Mel’s hand slowly creeps down towards Abby’s back, under her jacket, and now making some joke about our professor, throwing her head back and forth, then setting it on her shoulder, rubbing her.

You glance over to the couch to see the cat-like woman sizing you up. She waves her pen in front of her face like a dangling carrot. You strut towards her and she pats the couch and you swear you see dust fly into the air. She brings the pen up to her lips and lets the smoke brush her bottom lip. Her hand comes to rest on your thigh and then blinks narrowly at you.

“Why haven’t I seen you before.” You whisper in her ear.

She waits to pull away, allowing the pattering of your breath to trill against her skin.

“Don’t know,” her hand slides upwards. “What’s your major?”

“Nursing.”

Her arm was colored with an interesting tattoo that you find yourself tracing. Her hand came up to the curve of your ass. “Smart girl, so if I get an injury say… here,” She brings her mouth to graze your neck, then places a soft kiss. “Then you’d help me out?”

Her lips flick against your ear lobe which makes you shift under yourself.

“I certainly can.”

In the midst of the ever-present tension, Abby walks over with her pinky wrapped around Mel’s, a smile, unapologetically flashing gums and teeth. “Coming to dance with us?” She asks.

“Yea we can come.” Your new companion replies.

Abby smiles stiffly at her, then dashes her eyes back at you, saying your name, and then lets go of her connection to Mel.

“Sure, be up in a minute. Get us some beers?” You smirked.

Even under the lights, you can see how flush Abby became. Mel dragged her off, their hands back in love. You look back at your partner, cup her chin, and follow shortly behind.

Abby stood in the corner with Mel waving her hips against the beats of the song. She held three bottles of beer by the neck in her large hands. You two caught each other’s eyes and for a moment you could see her grin. Once you join them in their designated area, your date retrieves the bottles from Abby and sips behind you, wrapping her hand on your waist.

“I love this dress?” Her voice vibrating against your damp skin.

Her hand kept running over the smoothest parts of your body, gripping, pinching, — drinking you in.

“What’s your name?”

“Ellie.”

Abby came over to you and asked if were you okay to which you replied with a nod. Ellie was pushing her pelvis against your ass, gyrating desperately. Her hands became sticky with desire, practically bending you over, forcing you to arch your back.

Mel pulled Abby into her sphere and tacked her arms around her neck, tossing her head wildly, and making Abby slide her free hand on her lower back. Mel’s eyes were glossy with a feminine ache, the same one you had. You stood confused watching it all play out and Abby went along with her. Something boiled inside you, lust or jealousy, you didn’t know. It distracted you so much you didn’t realize Ellie’s lips pressed on your nape.

You turn to her and she latched her lips onto your neck, tattooed hand cupping your ass, dipping you back as she fused with you. It felt so good to be wanted like this, you felt your eyelids flutter and you could've sworn you smelt Abby’s shampoo. You could feel Ellie’s hands widen, and you could see the shimmering blonde locks under the flashing lights, and the formation of Abby’s name on your bitten lips.

“What?” Ellie pulled away in a half-hearted laugh.

“Hm? Did I say something?” You yelled.

Ellie couldn’t stop peering at your mouth, then glancing upwards, then down again. As she closed her eyes and moved inward, a shove from behind you interrupted your connection. Ellie yells at them but all you see is Abby locking lips with Mel, her hands full of her ass and Mel’s knees buckling. You see how Abby casually slides her tongue inside her mouth, and Mel accepts it like it’s hers.

Ellie bucks up to the guy who pushes you. His beer split on his shirt, hair soaked in sweat, mouth sloppy, and hollering slurs at her. Abby looks over at the situation and notices you in the midst of it all and pulls you away.

Her lips were bright and wet as she looped her arm into yours and put you behind her. You bring your hands up to her shoulders and tug at her when you see Mel searching for Abby in the crowd. Abby’s steps stuttered as you led her out of the house. It was like being released from a chokehold as the fresh wind smacked your face. You guide her down the steps and she smiles, teeth on display and eyes wedged into her cheeks.

“Abs?”

“Hmm… fuck me. I’m drunk.”

Her voice was resonant, sexy.

She stumbles over to you and dangles her wrists off your waist, face-to-face. Although drunk, she had no issue flashing you a playful gaze. You analyze her soft face and stare at the tip of her nose, then her lips, and back to her eyes. You break out of your tipsy and notice how fidgety her hands are, causing your panties to dampen.

“You think you can handle me?”

“Wha— what do you mean?” You choke.

She reaches into her coat pocket and dangles her keys, which you take for safekeeping. Thoughtlessly, her hands return and cascade towards your ass, fingers brushing your dress fabric. You stay like this for a moment, relishing her touch.

“Let me get you home Anderson.”

She tried her best and pick her feet up off the ground and not wash her shoes against the concrete. You held her by her waist, looping through her outer arm, hoisting her up, which wasn’t an easy feat. The puffs of her breath filled the air in front of you and you couldn’t believe you were carrying her home.

You walk her through her apartment and lay her out on her bed, turning on her lights. She groans loudly, pressing her palm against her temples, “No, turn it off. Open the blinds.”

She sounded so sweet, totally different from her persona at the house party. So you comply, the moon was full in the sky, cascading over the room like the sun, illuminating her face. Abby sat up lazily and attempted to remove her shoe, but all she could do was giggle at her failure. You sat the the edge of the bed and unlaced them, placing them across the room. She manages to remove her jacket alone, but you insist on tucking your fingertips under her shirt and pulling it upwards. The static made her fly-aways stand up, which you naturally brushed downwards. She observed you as you then moved to unbutton her pants. The beats in your chest were obnoxious in your ears — you were sure Abby could hear it too. The only noise in the room was the huffing of her breathing, which was two touches away from becoming moans. Abby sat before you, legs spread, dangling off the edge in her nude bra and matching lace panties. Her dainty underwear in contrast to her toned body filled that cave in your belly. She brushed her hands through her hair, rolled her neck, and fell back on the bed.

You ran in the kitchen and filled a glass with water, leaving it at her bedside. She was now under her sheets, admiring you.

“I’ll come check on you in the morning.”

A heavy pause floated above your heads.

“Wanna just… s—?” / “I’m gonna go.”

You both speak simultaneously, you freeze, curious if you let her repeat herself, but you don’t.

“Okay.” She smiled weakly.

“If you need me just knock. ‘Night Abby.”

You peeled your dress off and tossed your shoes and underwear on your living room floor. Your naked body glistened with goosebumps, making your nipples harden. They became so sensitive, begging for touch, and suddenly you wished you didn’t leave Abby alone. You fall into your bed that was plush with warmth, ruffling the sheets under you. Your mind painted images of Abby’s hands slipping under your dress, pushing aside your panties, and sticking her fingers in your slick that she was responsible for.

Your hands trailed to your aching core, surprising you with how wet you stayed all night. You roll your arousal-covered clit languidly, imaging Abby. The picture of her partially nude body flashed clearly, making you sweat. Once you build up the courage to slip your fingers in you groan her name. Abby. Letting her name levitate in the air as the sloshing noise between your legs increases.

The Saturday sun broke through the curtains of your bedroom, revealing the state you left yourself in, nakedly aroused. A soft pattering was rhythmic at the door, which spooked you. Your back is now erect, and you don’t care to remember how or why you were this nude in bed, you just reach for the nearest t-shirt and cover your top half as you open the door. Abby was grinning, a smile as bright as the sun, holding two coffee mugs. She had ditched her matching attire for red and black plaid pajama pants, with an old college top that was worn from time. You undo the chain lock and let her in, kicking aside your dirtied clothes.

Even hungover, she still looked beautiful.

“Good morning.”

You were slightly upset that Abby woke you up this early on a weekend, especially looking this good. You run to the bathroom and see the caked makeup on your face and wash it fresh. You lead her to your room where you ruffled through your dresser for a clean pair of underwear. Abby shot her eyes to the ground as you lifted your shirt to slip them on. You accepted the coffee from her hands and sat on your bed, curdled in the corner.

“Thanks.” You squint.

“I woke up feeling like shit.”

“You had a night.”

Just for a moment you had forgotten the Mel fiasco, but quickly remembered.

“I did?”

“You and Mel…” You allude.

Her face falls into her palm, “Oh no,”

You force a giggle but you hated seeing it.

“Full tongue.”

“Fuck. I really — I don't really know why or how that happened.”

“She got you drunk, kept feeding you drinks… hands all over you.”

“But it’s Mel! It’s Mel, she hates me.”

“Hmmm.”

She stares.

“There you go with that again.”

“What?”

“The hmmm stuff.”

“You’re just hard to understand sometimes Abby.”

“Maybe I’m not meant to be understood.” She smirked, watching your face contort with agitation.

She leans against your headboard and just stares at you.

“Did I do anything else?” Her voice suddenly capricious.

You shook your head in reply as you sipped.

“I just didn’t know she liked girls.”

“Abby, she doesn’t.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Glad nothing further happened. Right?”

“Nope. I mean unless something happened just as I put you to bed.” Her eyes lit up at this news, something ignited in her, mostly gratified. You drink more and feel your body tensing up under her lens.

“Put me to bed?” Her fingers find her ridges in your sheets, the same way they did to your dress, and smooth them out. You shudder remembering her drunken touch. Her eyes glaze over with a sharp look, almost as if she remembered too.

#abby x reader #abby anderson smut #ellie williams smut #abby anderson x you #abby smut #abby anderson #sub!abby #sub abby #ellie smut #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson tlou2 #abby the last of us #abby tlou

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murdockparker · 1 month

Text

Foolish Endeavor - Part 8

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: To be, or not to be (a Bridgerton), that is the question. One that Mr. Benedict Bridgerton has yet to ask.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Mentions of sex, no actual smut, angst

A/N: it's a happy-sad chapter. that's all I gotta say mad lads

first part - previous part - next part

She hadn’t felt very well rested, not even the tiniest bit. No matter how tired she felt after last night’s escapades, the excitement that lingered in the air coursed through her veins, keeping her alert and awake for the entirety of the night. He hadn’t kept it much of a secret, not really.

Benedict Bridgerton was proposing.

Today.

While he practically proposed last night, bodies tangled together in a sweaty embrace, she knew a more formal question was coming later this morning or afternoon. It was only a matter of time before Benedict asked for her company, asked for her hand. She imagined he already discussed the details of their engagement, dowry and the like with her father before their visit to Aubrey Hall. Seeing as how her father couldn’t accompany them for the week and knowing how formal Benedict could be about situations just as this one.

A soft knock rang through the spacious room, followed by the entrance of Agnes, her lady’s maid. She was carrying a pitcher of fresh water and a rag, smiling lightly at the girl rolling in bed.

“Good morning, miss,” Agnes said lovingly. She set the pitcher down on the desk, draping the cloth over the back of the chair. “I trust you slept well?”

“Of course,” she lied. “The beds here are divine, I reckon they’re stuffed with only the finest.”

“Oh yes,” Agnes nodded. “I’m sure the viscount has only the best in his home.”

“Did you sleep well, Agnes?”

“I slept just fine, my lady,” the maid said sweetly. “The staff’s lodgings are quite elegant. If I had half a mind, I would mention something to your mother…”

(Y/N) giggled, the sound dampening against the plushness of the bedding. “Consider it done, I’ll bring it up over tea.”

Agnes’ eyes lit up like a candle in the night—bright and ever glowing. She nodded softly before floating over to her lady’s bed to assist in her dressing. “I drew you a bath for this morning, I figured you may wish to take one after the exhausting day that was yesterday.” (Y/N)’s entire face flushed, the color creeping up from her neck. Surely the staff couldn’t have possibly heard anything from the study last eve, could they? “The carriage ride was much too hot for my liking, I myself washed up last evening.”

“Oh,” she coughed, patting her chest lightly. “Yes, I agree. Traveling in the summer months is always a hassle.”

“Should I set out your dressings for when you return, my lady?”

“Of course. That would be lovely.”

“Which one do you fancy for this morning?” Agnes asked, opening the wardrobe, now fitted out with the various silks and outfits they had packed for the week. Her eyes danced across the rainbow of colors before placing her hand on one. “I reckon Mr. Bridgerton will quite like this one."

“Agnes!” (Y/N) chided, suppressing a laugh.

“I’ll set it aside,” the maid hummed knowingly, placing the selected dress on the door to the wardrobe.

—

The dress Agnes had picked out was quite the stunning piece, the fanciest of the day dresses they had packed. The sleeves were almost entirely a thick lace, meeting the crook of her elbow with grace. Colored to match the sky on a summer’s day, the gown had matching white accents one could nearly mistake for clouds, a slightly darker azure pulled everything together on the bodice. It was the epitome of class, the finest handiwork once could find in the ton.

He thought she was breathtaking.

He normally thought so, of course. This morning, however, she looked nearly as radiant as the sun. His sun. He knew it was going to be a good day, with her smiling as sweetly as she was. He had to restrain himself from reaching into his pocket and falling to his knee immediately, his better judgment getting the best of him.

“Lady (Y/N),” Benedict greeted her, bowing lightly to appease the other eyes following them in the room.

“Benedict,” she curtsied back.

“Might you do me the honor of accompanying me on a promenade this morning?” He asked, brow arched up, his lovesick smirk ever apparent.

“Of course,” she nodded before turning to her side. “Though, we will need to find a chaperone—”

“I’ll join you.”

“A walk could do me some good.”

Both the countess and dowager viscountess spoke in the same breath, flustered at the sudden attention on themselves. They both seemed too eager to join the happy couple this afternoon, for no reason in particular.

“You are both free to join us,” Benedict nearly laughed. “We are set to promenade around the gardens, I wish to enjoy your lovely flowers, Mother.”

“Oh yes,” (Y/N) nodded enthusiastically. “Lady Bridgerton, your gardens are quite the spectacle.”

Violet waved them off, nearly embarrassed. “Oh you two flatter me so terribly.”

“Oh but I have to agree, Violet. You simply must tell me where you found your florist,” the countess smiled. “Theodore would love the blooms you have out here.”

“Well, I hardly think they’re a secret,” Violet said, voice dropping to a murmur before leaning into the countess’ side. “But I’ll extend their information to you posthaste.”

The women giggled, both taken at the joy of the afternoon—Benedict and (Y/N) still in their own little world.

“Pall-mall is this afternoon,” Benedict said thoughtfully, extending his arm for his beloved to take. “I recall your proficiency at the game, has that changed?”

(Y/N) shook her head, beginning to walk with Benedict towards the gardens, mamas in tow. “No, of course not. If anything I simply have gotten even better than you recall.”

He let out a laugh, warm and thick like honey. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. Anthony suggested the match a day or so prior to your arrival, something about fond memories from childhood—”

“Really? You’re sure he doesn’t wish to try and best his family to look good for his future bride?”

“Ah, the viscount would never dare use his family as a pawn for his marriage,” Benedict said seriously. “But, trying to best Daphne will be his greatest feat.”

“The duchess is joining us?” She asked, allowing Benedict to open the garden gate for her. He hummed.

“She would never dare miss an opportunity to lay claim to her rightful place as the best Bridgerton pall-mall player,” Benedict chuckled. “Well, I suppose she also wished to meet Miss Sharma, should Anthony get off of his sorry behind and actually propose…”

Violet Bridgerton loved her garden in Kent—her and her husband had a rather fondness to the country—leaving her gardens to be quite the sight to behold. The young couple spent many a day in the gardens in their youth, playing and chasing the other around. Last year, Anthony had commissioned a small fountain to be added for their mother's birthday, it was the new jewel of the grounds.

It was the perfect place, Benedict had decided.

“Why do you think our mamas are following us so closely?” (Y/N) asked quietly, tightening her grip on Benedict’s arm.

“They’re pretending to be interested in the roses,” Benedict whispered, turning to look back at his mother and the countess. The women seemed flushed, their attention drawn a bit too closely at the blooms. “But I believe they’re waiting with bated breath for something extraordinary to happen."

“And what, pray tell, would they be waiting for, Mr. Bridgerton?” Her heart began to pound, surely the small babbling of the fountain did nothing to hide it.

A grin spread across his face, one that was lopsided and all-too-sweet, his gaze warm enough to set aflame. “Perhaps they’re waiting for…this?” He removed his arm from (Y/N)’s grip, slinking down to one knee. Benedict thanked any God who would listen he had the bright idea to practice the gesture before this moment, as it hopefully looked as graceful as it felt. With only a slightly shaking hand, he took her own.

“Oh!” Lady Kent squealed from behind. Lady Bridgerton was quick to pull her close—as if to not ruin the moment.

“Lady (Y/N) (Y/L/N), you have been a constant at my side. Your friendship has been a balm on my worried heart for the many years I have had the pleasure of knowing you,” Benedict began, trying to keep his voice steady. “How lucky am I, to have found such a partner in my greatest friend? How lucky would I be, if that partner agreed to spend the rest of her days with me?”

“Benedict…” She had begun to cry. She had known he was proposing today, and yet, she still begun to cry.

“(Y/N),” Benedict repeated her name like a prayer, “will you do me the honor of making me half of the happiest pair the universe has ever seen? Will you marry me?”

A box suddenly appeared in his other hand, a glittering ring shining in the morning sun. It surely wasn’t a family ring, no, it looked to be brand new, like he had it made especially for her. Benedict had asked Lady Bridgerton about family rings but never quite found one that spoke to him—so he took matters into his own hands.

A delicate cluster of pearls with shining sapphires, all adorned like a flower in bloom. He had been torn on the sapphires, but secretly, a part of him wished for her to have the staple Bridgerton color, blue, with her always. A small claim, a slightly possessive way for him to show she is his at all times.

If she didn’t already have her answer before this moment, seeing Benedict on the ground, bearing his heart out to her in front of a beautiful scene—and their mamas—it couldn’t have come any easier.

“Yes!” She squealed, falling to the ground to meet Benedict in an amorous embrace—dress be damned, society be damned.

He nearly fell over, arm steadily snaking its way around her waist, holding her tight against him. He knew he was close to tears, but seeing his love on the same precipice nearly sent him over the edge. “If our mamas weren’t looking…” Benedict whispered into her ear, holding her tight against him, his words a secret to her alone.

“I simply don’t care,” (Y/N) murmured, turning his face towards her own, lips nearly attacking his. What started as a passionate celebration had melted into something more substantial—a far cry from any other kiss they had shared before. This was not just a kiss from a friend, a kiss from a lover, no, this was a kiss between a husband and wife. The passion was not lost on them, but it took perhaps a second too long to fully realize that their mothers were still very much watching.

“Ehem!” Lady Kent cleared her throat, cheeks rosy as the blooms beside her.

“Relax Mama,” (Y/N) giggled, pulling herself to her feet, assisting Benedict to reaching his own as well. “What is the worst thing to happen? Force us to marry faster?”

“I rather like the sound of that,” Benedict murmured, dusting off his pants.

“Er, no, I suppose there’s nothing—” Lady Kent sighed, turning to Violet. “Should we petition for a speedy ceremony?”

“Oh hush,” Violet admonished, laughing lightly. “One kiss between betrothed is not a ruin. However,” she looked at the newly affianced couple with a narrow gaze, the one of a strict mother, “I would not make it a habit until you are wed.”

“Of course, Mother,” Benedict nodded, trying his very best to not laugh out loud.

“My lady,” a butler had come up from behind the proud mothers. “The duchess has arrived.”

“Oh! Splendid,” Violet cooed. “Benedict, do see to it that you and your fiancée greet your sister, I am sure she would be most pleased at your news.”

“We shall inform the family before pall-mall,” Benedict said decidedly. “Just another reason to celebrate.”

“Just think,” Lady Kent sighed, turning to walk with Lady Bridgerton back to the estate. “By the end of the week you will have two sons set to be wed! A joyous celebration indeed.”

“If Anthony is truly engaged at the end of the week,” Benedict said quietly, words only meant for his fiancée to hear, “then the world has turned upside down.”

They both laughed.

—

“Is Anthony still attached to the black mallet?” (Y/N) asked, arm in arm with her new fiancé. “I recall a near bloodbath for it the last time I played pall-mall with your family.”

“Far more than one would realize,” Benedict nodded. “One would suspect he carried and birthed the bloody thing…”

“Funny,” (Y/N) said. “He birthed the mallet? Here I thought he still had a stick up his—”

“(Y/N)!”

“What? I will not apologize for saying what I was thinking—and if I knew any better, you were too.”

“He’s been… a bit un-agreeable the last few weeks, regarding the whole notion of Miss Sharma and whatnot,” Benedict sighed.

“So you do not disagree.”

“He is my brother,” Benedict stated.

“Indeed,” (Y/N) hummed.

Even having descended these steps only two hours prior to their inevitable engagement, the yard had completely transformed. Shade and snacks had been put up for the spectators, hoops were currently being put in the ground and staff were carrying out the dreaded mallet container.

“What a lovely afternoon for pall-mall,” Lady Mary said.

“And a lovely afternoon to celebrate an engagement,” Lady Bridgerton added, looking directly at the happy couple.

“Oh yes,” Lady Mary smiled. “Congratulations on the engagement, Lady Bridgerton, Lady Kent.”

“Save your congratulations for the ball in the next few days,” Lady Kent laughed. “I suspect it will be the talk of the ton anyhow.”

The older ladies laughed with one another. The younger adults began their trek to the mallet box, determination in each of their eyes.

“Eloise, are you sure you do not wish to play?” Colin asked, turning to his younger sister.

“I have other matters to deal with,” she said sitting from the steps, nose in her book. “Besides, someone had to sit out so our guests could play…”

“I could have sat out—” Colin began.

“And the sky is green, Brother,” Benedict said, clapping his younger brother’s back. “Everyone knows you would’ve been a worse spoilsport if you sat out instead.”

“Perhaps Lady (Y/N) could have sat out, then?”

“You’d make my fiancée sit out?” Benedict gasped, clearly jesting. “She is to be your sister soon, Colin. It’s preposterous that you would even suggest such a thing!”

“Ben,” (Y/N) giggled, hand placed gently on his shoulder. “I do not think Colin truly meant it.”

“Congratulations, again,” Colin nodded towards the to-be-Bridgerton. “Why you wish to marry into this family is beyond me.”

“I fear I am still asking myself such a question,” she hummed, plainly ignoring Benedict’s souring expression. “But I am sure I’ll be reminded during our spirited game of pall-mall.”

“Reminded of what?” Daphne asked, walking with the Sharma sisters. She had been explaining the game in earnest to them.

“How much fun our family has playing a rousing game of pall-mall,” Colin said, shit-eating grin on his face. Anthony tried his best to ignore it, taking his attentions to Miss Sharma—the younger, not the elder.

“Shall we begin?” Anthony coughed, clasping his hands behind his back.

“I shall pick first,” Colin said, reaching for the black mallet.

“No!” Anthony practically yelled, causing a shock to the group. “I-I mean, we pick based on alphabetical order.”

“So, by Bridgerton standards, eldest to youngest?” (Y/N) mused. Benedict huffed a laugh as his brothers began to fight.

“The only fair thing to do,” Daphne spoke up, ever the voice of reason, “is to let our invited guests choose their mallets and strike first.”

“Please, take your pick, Miss Edwina,” Anthony conceded, bowing to the younger Sharma. Edwina looked carefully over the mallets, eyes scanning over every color—almost as if she was afraid to pick the wrong one. She pointed decidedly to the blue one, Anthony grabbing it for her with haste. “An excellent choice.”

Kate wasted no time in choosing her mallet—black and foreboding. The mallet of death.

“Would you look at that, Brother?” Benedict sniggered, clearly amused by Anthony’s annoyance.

“Is this yours?” Kate asked.

“Not at all. You’re welcome to it,” Anthony sighed.

“You near threatened to beat me the last time I touched—”

“You exaggerate,” Anthony fumed, eyes like daggers towards Colin.

“Are you the superstitious sort, Lord Bridgerton?” Kate asked, twirling the mallet like a prized trophy. “I know some men cannot perform without their familiar tools. Like a child with a blanket.”

“Oh I like her,” (Y/N) said softly, her words nearly lost amongst the guffaw of the Bridgerton family.

“I can play perfectly well with any mallet,” Anthony said.

“My sun, I do believe it is your pick,” Benedict said, clearing the laugh from his throat. She nodded, taking her claim on the lavender mallet. It seemed the most appealing and an easy color to spot from the grass. “Lavender is a fine color for you.”

“Shall we dilly dawdle all afternoon?” Colin sighed. “Or shall we…”

It was like a hunt. Each of the playing Bridgertons tried to stake their claim on a mallet, all avoiding one in particular. Benedict grabbed a golden yellow, Colin choose green, Daphne a nice seafoam color, leaving Anthony with the pastel pink.

“To the field of combat!” Daphne exclaimed, holding her mallet straight up in the air.

Combat was an accurate descriptor. While it had been years since she had played pall-mall, even longer since she had played it with the Bridgertons, Lady (Y/N) found it refreshing. It nearly made her wonder if this could have been her life growing up—a lively life with siblings to bicker with and pick on.

Regardless, it will be her life now, as soon as she marries Benedict. Soon she’d be a Bridgerton. Soon she’d have the family she’d always dreamt of. Siblings, children, the whole lot.

“I say, that was a good shot Lady (Y/N)!” Colin cheered, clapping politely at her latest hit. She had managed to knock Daphne’s ball near a cluster of bushes. “Always a win in my book to best Daph.”

“Oh hush,” Daphne rolled her eyes. “It was a bold move, I will concede to that, well done (Y/N).”

“Dropping her title, are we?” Benedict asked, stepping beside his sister. “You of all people know better etiquette, Your Grace.”

“And what is better etiquette than calling my newest sister by her given name?” Daphne sang, hopping along to her ball. She may be married and a new mother with one on the way, but she still was very much a girl at heart.

“I truly don’t mind, Benedict,” (Y/N) insisted. “It won’t matter in a few weeks, anyhow.”

“Perhaps you won’t mind this, then?” Colin said. In a blink of an eye, her purple ball went flying towards Daphne’s.

“Not at all, Colin,” (Y/N) curtsied. “You only made the game more fun, I would have been crestfallen if you were taking it easy on me.”

“Never,” he scoffed.

“Exactly right,” (Y/N) said, following Daphne over to her ball.

“I’m happy for you. She’s a catch, Ben,” Anthony said, pulling his younger brother out of his love-sick daze. Benedict nodded, not fully listening. “Everyone suspected it to happen, since we were young.”

“I wish someone would have told me sooner,” Benedict jested, “it would have saved us both some time, I manage.”

“I believe Father had made a joke about it once before,” Anthony said. “But, I assume your head was too stuck in the clouds to hear it.”

“Father did, truly?” Benedict’s brow raised. “He was rather observant, I suppose I do not doubt it.”

“You know, I must hand it to you, Brother,” Colin said, cutting in with his brothers. “Courting Lady (Y/N) was a feat I’m surprised you pulled off.”

“Do you not think we are a suited match?” Benedict asked. “Am I not charming enough? Not handsome enough?”

“You are a Bridgerton, of course you are enough,” Colin said.

“I think he means he is just surprised you managed to snag the daughter of an earl,” Anthony said simply. “You are a second son, it is nearly unheard of.”

“She is more than that—”

“Of course she is,” Anthony said, raising his hand in defense, the other on his pink mallet. “She is your greatest friend and soon to be your wife—of course she is more than just the earl’s daughter.”

“She is my sun,” Benedict said simply.

Anthony and Colin gave each other a look. “Ever the poet,” Colin chuckled. “You could have stopped at ‘she’s more than that’.”

She had been trying to strategize how best to get her purple ball back to the next wicket. Colin had sent it rather far from the next target, but it was no matter. She was determined to get it back into play—to show the Bridgertons she could roll with the punches. A small wave was sent her direction, one attached to a rather love-sick man, tall and handsome with a wicked grin.

She waved back, an equally lovesick smile on her lips.

“How fortunate,” Anthony noted. “Now your son will inherit the earldom, yes?”

“I…” Benedict’s regard turned back to his brother. How easily he was distracted by Lady (Y/N). “Yes, I suppose that is what’s expected of our union, what her parents expect of us.”

“Just think,” Colin said boisterously, “two titles in one family!”

“A viscount and an earl, both Bridgertons,” Anthony cooed, much like a child. “Well done brother! What a success for our family—Father would be proud.”

“I understand the sudden interest in Lady (Y/N) now, Brother,” Colin said, balancing on his mallet. “It rather makes sense, does it not?”

“I think Father would be more proud that I am marrying for love,” Benedict corrected, growing a bit annoyed at his brothers jesting.

“Love? Oh yes,” Anthony waved. “Sure, sure. But the earldom? How lucky you’ve bagged her, Brother. Bridgerton, Earl of Kent!”

Benedict forced a laugh.

“Well, that is not—”

A purple ball rolled next to his feet, stopping just before his toes.

She had looked like she had seen a ghost, Lady (Y/N). Her grip tightened on her mallet, white gloves contrast to the purple. “I think I shall cut out for the day.”

The Bridgerton brothers were silent, Benedict inching towards her.

“(Y/N)—”

“I am in need of a respite,” she said, not looking back. “Too much sun.”

Benedict felt his blood run cold, his hand glued to the air. Every sense of his was fleeting, his sight blurring, his mouth running dry.

“You dolt,” Daphne admonished, smacking her second eldest brother as she came upon them. “You must talk to her.”

“I-I will,” Benedict nodded, not knowing what else to do.

“Well not now,” Daphne sighed. “Give her a moment to collect her thoughts. A conversation now could be… explosive.”

“Is the game finished, my lord?” Edwina pranced over, brows furrowed.

“Ah, yes,” Anthony cleared his throat. “Well, no. Lady (Y/N) and Benedict have cut out, isn’t that right?”

Benedict nodded numbly, dropping his mallet to the grass.

“The game is still set—minus yellow and purple,” Anthony said stoically, rightfully ignoring his brother heading towards the estate.

Feet like lead, every step he took felt like a death sentence, a man on his way to execution.

Somehow, he much preferred that thought.

He knocked at her door, three hours later.

For two hours he sobbed and for an hour he drank, trying to wrap his head around how he’d approach this, how he’d approach her. He had pressed a wet rag to his face. Helps with the puffiness, a staff member told him. He hoped for it to be true.

He knocked again.

“Go away.”

Benedict sighed, leaning up against the wood. “I’m afraid that’s unlikely. We must speak.”

“I am not opening the door.”

“And I am not leaving.”

A pause.

Then, the lock clicked.

The man took a deep breath, preparing for every possible outcome. He was never much of a planner, but in this very instance? He wish he had clairvoyance, a crystal ball perhaps, to see how this would end. Benedict could only hope it ended with them at the end of the aisle, hand in hand at the altar.

“You would have stayed out there all night,” she said simply as he entered the room. She had resigned herself to standing in the dead center of the bedchambers, her arms crossed.

“Yes,” Benedict said. “I would have.”

“Stubborn,” she scoffed, turning towards the window.

He took the moment to shut the door—they were engaged, no need for propriety now. “We are expected at dinner this evening,” Benedict said quietly. “To celebrate the engagement.”

“Naturally.”

“You do not wish to go to dinner,” Benedict surmised.

“Naturally,” she repeated, her shoulders tensing.

“You must eat—”

“I would rather starve.”

“That is a bit ridiculous,” Benedict scoffed. “Surely you are not that angry.”

“You do not get to tell me how angry I am allowed to be,” (Y/N) said, finally turning around. “If I do not wish to show face at dinner, I will not show face.”

Benedict’s gaze softened on her, finally seeing her face. He would never assume anything about her, it would make for a terrible habit for the years to come, but if he had to make an educated guess, she had been crying just as much as he had.

He wished he had a rag to offer.

“I apologize—”

“For which instance?” (Y/N) asked cooly. “For earlier? For dictating my feelings?”

“The first—both, I suppose,” Benedict ran a hand through his hair. Perhaps he was losing strands from the stress. “Look, (Y/N)—”

“Do you take me for a fool?”

“What?”

“You have known me for many years,” (Y/N) said. “Do you take me for a fool?”

He had the fleeting thought of mentioning how poorly she played cards, how foolish her tactics were. The only time he’d ever call her a fool. He decided he’d be more the fool if he so much as loosened his lips on that thought. “No.”

“I do not need you to explain yourself, you and your brothers made it quite clear this afternoon,” (Y/N) tightened her arms, nearly folding in on herself. “Quite clear on your true intentions with the earldom.”

“My true intentions? My only intention is and ever was to marry you. Absolutely none of this came from the title.”

“Is that why you suddenly had an interest in me? To secure another title of nobility for your family’s lineage?”

“Of course not! I have loved you since I knew what love truly was, (Y/N). It did not happen overnight.”

Frustrated, she began to pace about the room, fire crackling nearly in time with her beating heart. The air was tense, thick. Shadows begun dancing from the flames, painting themselves onto the bookshelves with ease and without hesitation. Their furrowed brows were prominent against the flickering, set in stone.

“‘Did not happen overnight’,” (Y/N) scoffed. “You had the opportunity when I debuted seasons ago, why now? Why not then?”

“I was fooling myself,” Benedict pressed a hand against his chest. “I know how this may look, my sun—”

“You,” she cut him off, eyes hardened. “Do not get to call me that. Not right now.”

Benedict took a step back. She was dead serious. He could only recall one other time in their lives that she had such a ferocity to her character—it had involved her father discarding a handful of books from her own personal collection, resulting in her not speaking to him for the better part of a month. If he thought her looks could kill then, Benedict Bridgerton was expecting to have his funeral by the end of the night.

“You misunderstand,” Benedict began carefully, as if to not break any eggshells. “My brothers—you know how they are. Anthony was merely making a joke.”

“It was in poor taste.”

“I agree!” Benedict exclaimed. “My laughter then, it was one of the forced kind, one I save only for the deeply unpleasant conversations I tend to have during the season.”

She stood silent for a moment.

“Yet you laughed."

“I… did. My su—love, I apologize from the deepest parts of me. I wish to marry you, earldom or not. Titles mean nothing, but you? Darling, you mean everything to me."

“So it was just a coincidence that you decided to show up at my door the morning after I shared the truth of my family’s wishes for my future match? Surely you do not take me for a fool.”

Benedict sighed, feeling the anger bubbling in his chest. “While you may have shared that information, the only thing I could even begin to think about since you had left that afternoon was that I had a chance!”

She blinked.

“Imagine, loving your best friend, watching her and admiring her from afar, knowing she’s destined to be with and marry another. Marry some… some duke or titled man, someone every mama would be floored to have pair with their daughter,” Benedict felt as if he were on stage, his only audience watching him intently. “But to fathom you’d ever marry me? A second son? Surely you could consider me mad for ever entertaining that, for even ever dreaming of it.”

“You have no idea the type of man I wished to have married,” (Y/N) said, her voice cooler than ice. Calculated, perhaps. “Had you been honest from the start—”

“And ruin our friendship?” Benedict laughed, no humor found in his voice. “Lose you? The greatest thing to come of my time on this planet? No. Perish the thought.”

“You’re a fine actor,” (Y/N) said slowly, trying to keep her composure. “Because from the way I see it? You found a way to ensure a new title for the Bridgerton name—woo your ‘greatest friend’ and effectively ruin her by taking her on your brother’s desk!”

“Do not make it seem like you had no say in the matter—”

“I loved you!” (Y/N) screamed, finally reaching her breaking point. “I thought you would be the man I would marry! I wanted you, Benedict, more than I ever wanted anyone.”

“Loved…?” Benedict felt smaller than dirt. “You do not mean—”

“I will still marry you,” (Y/N) continued. “Only because you have effectively trapped me—what if I am to be with child?” She nearly laughed at the absurdity. “Seeing as you had the grace to not only ruin me, but finish in me—”

“Is that what you think?” Benedict broke, his voice quavering. “You think that I tried to trap you into a marriage to ensure my family a new title? That I had the thought—the foresight—to try and make you with child to give you no other options? In no way you could think so little of me—”

“And yet here we are,” her voice was like venom. "Perhaps you will have your Bridgerton earl after all."

He dared not speak a word.

“I need some time to think. Mother and I are going back to Mayfair—do not follow us.” (Y/N) left the room, slamming the door so hard one might have assumed it cracked.

Much like his heart.

TAGLIST

@nikkisilassheep, @cavghtbythewind, @chaotic-onigiri, @440mxs-wife , @mymyma , @perdynerd , @wotcherboo , @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake , @babyhoneystvles , @korol-lantsov , @riddlerloveb0t

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagines #reader insert #oops has it been 10 months since i updated this story last? uh oh #and oops! angst!#sowwy sowwy

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minichrismd · 1 year

Text

The Boggart - Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Word Count - 1227

Themes - Angst & Fluff

Sebastian hurried down the stretching corridor, he was running late for his next class. He was already on thin ice with his friends, Ominis and (Y/N) after the events in the catacombs near Feldcroft. He didn’t need to anger his professors too.

He skidded around the corner, taking the staircase at high speed, nearly knocking over a first year Hufflepuff in the process.

“Sorry!” He yelled, practically running now.

“Fifth years.” The first year muttered, rolling their eyes. Sebastian paid no attention and continued running. He had just rounded the corner to the classroom when he spotted his fellow fifth years entering the room. He’d made it just in time. He joined the back of the group, trying to slip into the room unnoticed. He saw (Y/N) and Ominis sitting together on one of the benches towards the front of the room. Before the event in Feldcroft he would have joined them, but now they were barely on speaking terms. It felt like they were punishing him for doing what he felt was right at the time, now though, he was remorseful, he knew what he did was wrong. He became lost in his thoughts of that fateful day. How could he have taken it that far? Yes, he desperately wanted to help Anne but thinking with a clear head now, he knew that what he had done was the worst thing possible. He’d lost his family because of it.

While Sebastian was thinking to himself, (Y/N) looked over her shoulder and spotted him at the back of the room. She nudged Ominis.

“I would tell you to look behind you but you can’t see so…” She said with a smirk. Ominis huffed.

“If I wanted to be insulted, I would go and find Peeves. What are you looking at?” He asked.

“Sebastian, he’s staring into space. It’s like he’s thinking about something. (Y/N) replied. Ominis scoffed. As angry as you were with Sebastian, you also felt bad for him. He’d lost his family over some stupid decisions he’d made and now he was paying for it, granted he was lucky that he hadn’t ended up in Azkaban. You were about to get up and speak to him when the door to the classroom swung open.

“Good morning class! In today’s defence against the dark arts lesson, we will be learning about boggarts.” Chimed Professor Hecat. You groaned internally; you knew what your boggart would be, but you didn’t want anyone else to know what you were afraid of.

To start the class, Professor Hecat asked a few questions about boggarts, such as their origin, what form they take and how to deal with them. Those that she picked to answer the questions passed with flying colours. You glanced behind you again, noticing that Sebastian still seemed deep in thought. Your head snapped back to the front when you heard a chest rattling and banging around.

“So, who wants to go first? Mr Sallow?” Professor Hecat knew that Sebastian hadn’t been listening. Sebastian gulped loudly and stood up, stepping into the centre of the room. He placed one foot in front of the other and tried to prepare for what would appear from the box. Even though he hadn’t been listening, he’d heard about this chest from a sixth year. It was the boggart chest, and he had a feeling he knew what was about to appear in front of him.

Professor Hecat released the latches on the chest and the top flew open, making everyone in the room jump. Sebastian gripped his wand tighter. What was the spell he needed to use to change it? He’d forgotten what it was. He felt frozen as he saw the boggart emerge from the chest. He tried to remind himself that it wasn’t real but he felt frozen. In front of him was Solomon Sallow, his uncle. He stared at the boggart; it looked the same as what his uncle had before the catacombs.

His chest felt tight as the boggart in the form of his uncle stepped out of the check, wand in hand. The boggart took a step towards him and drew the wand in a fighting stance.

“AVADA-KA-“

“Ridikulus!” (Y/N) yelled, raising her wand and transforming the boggart. Professor Hecat was taken back by the scene that had unfolded in her classroom, she scolded (Y/N) for taking over. She then turned to where Sebastian was stood to find that he wasn’t there and the door to her classroom had closed with a loud slam.

“Oh for goodness sakes, Mr Sallow. Come back here now!” Professor Hecat yelled.

“What just happened?” Ominis asked, confusion lacing his words. You explained quickly what had happened with the boggart, how it had taken the form of Solomon and Sebasitan’s hasty departure from the room.

“We must go after him.” Ominis stated. You agreed wholeheartedly, as much as you may have been angry with Sebastian after what had happened in the catacombs, he was still one of your best friends. You left the room with Ominis, much to the frustration of Professor Hecat, trying to think of where Sebastian may have gone. You searched the castle, from the Slytherin common room all the way to the Undercroft but you weren’t able to find him. Then it hit you.

“What about the room of requirement?” You asked, Ominis agreed, it was worth a try. You both headed to the wall where the room could be accessed and asked to find Sebastian. The room opened into a dark corridor with a single door at the end. Casting lumos, you both made your way down the corridor, stopping short of the door. You could hear heavy breathing and the sound of sobs. You tried the handle and surprisingly the door opened into a dark, damp room. You spotted Sebastian in the corner on the floor, head in his hands, chest heaving with every breath.

You raced over to him, practically dragging Ominis with you. You put your hands on Sebastians shoulders and his head jolted up, looking you in the eyes for the first time since the events in Feldcroft.

“I-I’m Sorry, I’m so sorry. I never meant to take it as far as I did. I only wanted to help Anne.” He cried, burying his head back into his hands. You pulled him in to you, holding him tightly. You watched as Ominis put a hand on his shoulder for comfort.

I’m so sorry to both of you. I should have never put you through that. Will you ever be able to forgive me? Please don’t hate me.” Sebastian sobbed. You held him tighter, glancing at Ominis. Ominis nodded, neither of you hated him, he was your best friend.

“We don’t hate you, Sebastian.” You said kindly. “And we forgive you, we just needed some time.” Ominis finished, squeezing his shoulder for reassurance. Sebastian threw his arms around both of you, practically dragging Ominis to the floor.

“Thank you.” Sebastian whispered, feeling like a piece of himself had been mended by just hearing those words. They all knew it would take a while for them to heal from the events that had happened over the last school year, but they were determined to see the year through and end it on a better note than what the middle of the year had been.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow imagine #sebastian sallow oneshot #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #Spotify

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rustboxstarr · 11 months

Text

🥀First times for everything🥀

Summary: Just some good ole' fashioned grinding my guys

Pairings: Virgin!Eddie x Plussize!Reader

CW: kissing, groping, smut, grinding, cumming in boxers 😈, slight miscommunication, new relationship, reader referred to as fat by herself because what is so wrong with that? it's an adjective!

Word count: 3.9k

A/N:This was supposed to be a blurb, I very obviously failed..

Check out my other works!

You strolled down the hall adjoining the cafeteria with an arm laced with Robins as you laughed about a previous endeavor in class, Jason had been told to shut it after talking all class and almost peed himself when he wasn't excused to the bathroom with a pass. The early June weather didn't feel as if you had just left spring, it felt like you were in the pique of august in some exotic country judging by the sun blazing down on you, allowing your body to break out in a light sweat whenever you were outside too long. The temperature was up in the three digits category every single day, so automatically baggy jeans and t-shirts turned into shorts and the occasional crop top. Today was that day, you had gotten a few stares, but that was inevitable being a fat girl wearing shorts that barely covered your ass and naturally weighty breasts on display under the white halter top, you would like to think it was a modest amount of cleavage, unfortunately that was only the case for you, for others you looked like you might have been trying too hard, there was no way you were going to care however, it was too damn hot outside to dress any lighter than this. You were pleasantly surprised that the shorts hadn't been bothering you but you dismissed the fact of no chafing due to the short walks between classes and cool air blasting through the school leaving your thighs dry and smooth as they rubbed together when you walked.

“Oooh, loverboy is here” Robin grabbed your attention and drew it down to the end of the hall to see your boyfriend leant up against the lockers, black t-shirt with some band on it you couldn't read from so far away and a simple pair of green cargo shorts. “oh and he’s waiting by your locker, how cute” Robin grinned sarcastically. You rolled your eyes at her antics, “Oh I just realized you never told me if you.. you know” she widened her eyes excitedly, “Jesus Robin, you are too invested in other people's lives” that was not the answer she was looking for and that was made clear when she shook her head expectantly. “If you must know” you rolled your eyes again “No Eddie and I have not had sex”. You stopped in the middle of the hall, pulling her to the side so you wouldn't arrive where Eddie was, mid conversation.

“Why not dude? What on earth are you waiting for?” she was undoubtedly exasperated with the situation, you were together, you had talked about sex with Eddie and she had heard from Steve that he had briefly ventured into the subject so what was the big deal?!

“Everyones not sexcrazed teenagers like you and Steve, humping like bunnies” you sneered “Ew when you say that it sounds like you mean were fucking each other” she pulled a face. “Obviously not, I just mean, Steve dates anyone in sight” you gestured to yourself, as if saying he even dates fat girls “-and you and Vickie seem to be how do I say this?” you pondered “Horny as fuck” you grinned. “So are you and Eddie” she drew her eyebrows up dramatically as if she knew something you didn't. “We don’t know that, for all I know Eddie isn't even ready to do that stuff” you explained. “Welllll” Robin bounced on the balls of her feet “I mean, he’s a 19 year old guy, they're all horny fucks. He might just be waiting for you to tell him you're ready” that was in fact the case, but you didn't know that.

“I feel like if he was he would say something” you raised your eyebrows as you began treading slowly down the hall again, “You realize you haven't told him you're ready” she rolled her eyes out of your view “I think he would know I’m ready” you countered.

“Sure, because boys are so well known for their knowledge of the female species, Eddie!” she held her hands out as a greeting. Eddie frowned slightly at her dramatic hello “Hey.. Robin” he answered her cautiously. “Alrighty well I’m gonna head to History, I’ll leave you too lovebirds be” she smirked earning a sneer from you as she began walking. She turned around behind Eddie's back to face you and made a lude scene in the hall, pretending to thrust into someone from behind while making awfully exaggerated faces of pleasure. Your stare at her drew Eddie's attention making him look behind him, Robin stopped abruptly and spun around to speed walk to class.

“Hey” you smiled, stretching up to place a peck to his lips which he happily returned. “Only have a few minutes, I have history too” he explained as you opened your locker to switch out your books “But I wanted to ask, um Wayne, is uh out tonight, if you want to you know come over, we don't have to do anything!” he was quick to stress that fact “but I just thought it might be nice, watch Tv without a 60 year old man hovering around us” he grinned “and uh we got the AC going so it'll be cool” he brought his hand to the back of his neck to scratch and it with the pads of his fingers.

“Yeah, I’d love to, I’ll just tell Steve I don't need a ride and I’ll go home with you yeah?” you closed your locker, limply holding your math textbook between both hands resting on your stomach. “Yeah sounds good” he smiled down at you, as you met his eyes you saw his attention was brought further down, to your boobs which were now firmly pressed together from the way you were holding your textbooks. You felt slightly awkward under his gaze but the moment only lasted a second or so before he cleared his throat and looked back at you “I’ll uh, be in the parking lot when you end” “Can’t wait” you grinned as you pecked him on the lips again. Before you could draw back Eddie's hand was quick to grab at your neck to hold you to him for just a few seconds longer. You swallowed as you drew apart, “Ok, bye” you forced a smile and quickly walked away. God could you be more awkward??

–

“You ok?” Robin asked as Eddie folded himself into the wooden chair next to her. “What? Oh, yeah all good” he smiled but Robin only squinted at him, a slight smirk played on her lips as she leant back, waiting for the class to start. As casual as she could be she commented “Cute top Y/N wore today right?” she was trying very hard to fight the smirk, it was proven even more difficult as she turned her head to the side to see Eddie with raised eyebrows, he coughed “Uh, yeah, didn't- didn't really notice it” he tried explaining away. Robin only nodded, silently laughing maniacally in her head.

–

“Welcome to my humble abode” Eddie grinned as he swung through the door gesturing you to enter first, you chuckled “I’m familiar with it”, both of you slipped off your shoes and dropped your school bags to the floor. “So uh” Eddie clapped his hands together before holding them firmly behind his back, trying not to rock back and forth with nerves “What do you want to do, we can watch a movie, listen to music in my room and uh…” he wasn't sure how exactly he had planned on finishing that sentence. “Make out?” you grinned “I-I mean, only- only if you want to” what was his issue with just saying one word once when he was talking, shut the fuck up Eddie, why are you so nervous, shes your girlfriend you idiot.

You looked up at him through squinted eyelids, tilting your head to the side “Do you want to?” you had kissed before, sure, indulged in a little tongue, sat next to each other on a bench and awkwardly facing each other but never close to each other, not in someone's bed. “Only if you want to” he deadpanned now, head tilting down to look you straight in the eye, wishing he could understand what was going through your head. You were about to repeat his words back to him, or even say you wouldn't mind it, but maybe if you were clear with Eddie he would be clear with you so you opted for saying it right out “I want to” Eddie's eyes widened. “Do you?” you asked slowly, voice slightly firm “Y-yes, yes” he was nodding vigorously “I want to” you giggled at him “Well come on then” you slipped your palm into his, letting him stumble with you to his bedroom. Before you had a chance to sit down Eddie asked “Music?” trying to avoid your gaze. “Yes” you stated looking him dead in the eyes before grinning “But I’m picking”.

Eddie clambered onto his bed as you went through music collection. How was he supposed to sit, in the middle against the headboard? To the side so you could sit next to him? Should he lie down? Would you be comfortable with lying down or would he seem like a creep? Was he supposed to be on top? Fuck he was getting in his head, fucking relax. He chose to sit in the middle of the bed, resting against the headboard, this way if you wanted to you could.. sit in his lap.. or next to him, he made sure there was still room for you.

Just as he was trying to relax and calm his nerves he looked over at you bent at the waist to read the backs of each cassette. His heartbeat rose and an audible gulp was heard through the room as he noticed you. With your particular position your shorts had risen up your hips, wedging between your thighs, seam pressing at your puffy cunt and giving him a clear view of half your ass. He tried to look away, find just one other thing in the room that could catch his interest but it was impossible, his eyes snapped back to you, he rolled his eyes back as if just the sight of you alone was giving him pleasure, which, it was. He took the opportunity to sneakily and quietly adjust himself, forcing his now hard cock to sit straight and under the hem of his boxers, that would definitely make his little issue less noticeable.

You stood up only a moment later, popping in the A side of the cassette Whodini, Escape. It was a surprise to see Eddie actually had Hip-pop in his house but judging by the size of his collection it seemed reasonable. You rocked your head from side to side with the beat of the music as you turned to Eddie, who sat fiddling with his rings in his lap. Now it was your turn to freak out about the sitting position, you pushed it down and took a breath. You weren't necessarily that excited about sitting on top of Eddie, you were heavy, what if you were too heavy? What if he didnt like you sitting in his lap? But you chose to power through, climbing onto the bed and swinging a leg over his and settling on his mid thighs. Eddie's wide eyes stared up at you, it was unbearable, you didn't want to think you did something wrong so you just quickly attached your lips to his.

Eddie closed his eyes with a sigh, releasing the tension in his shoulders. As your hands grazed his arms and settled on each side of his neck Eddie drew his hands up to hold lightly at your waist. The kiss lasted a few seconds before you drew back to look at him, you didn't really get a chance though because soon enough Eddie leaned forward searching your lips again, with gentle movements you got him to settle back against the headboard and pecked against his lips. As you kissed him again you felt Eddie's tongue poking slightly at your flesh, nonverbal asking you to part your lips, you did, and you almost swooned when you felt his tongue graze yours, cinnamon gum tasting at the tip of your tongue. A low groan spilled from Eddie's lips as he grew more brave and licked more of your tongue. It was as if both of your bodies just knew and molded together, tongues swiping at each other with growing confidence and force. Eddie's hands began to grip harder at your hips making you notice it more, you chanced it and grabbed his right hand.

His grip immediately loosened, thinking he might have held you too hard but gasped when he felt you guide his hands to your boob. He muttered a “fuck” against your lips as his fingers pushed into the soft skin. His grip on your hip went back to its former strength as he palmed at you desperately. You hummed against him at the feeling and continued kissing him. Relishing in the feeling of Eddie's greedy hand altering between squeezing harshly and simply holding you.

He couldn't hold it in anymore though, he was straining desperately against his boxers and he needed some sort of release. You made a shocked whine when his hand left your boob to find its place on your hip again. Eddie forcefully pulled you flush against his chest, moving you from his thighs to sit right down on his clothed cock. You let out a loud gasp as you felt his hard length pressing right against your covered cunt, you parted your thighs to open your lips up to sit firmly on him, allowing his previous adjustment to sit deliciously pressed to your clit. Eddie's hands instinctively pushed over your shorts as he moved his hands from your hips to grab a hefty handful of your ass, causing you to push down on him. You let out a low moan at the feeling, desperately kissing his lips again to taste him.

When Eddie pulled you towards him with his grip still firm on you over the denim, you pulled away from him. Wide eyes staring down at him in surprise. Eddie's lips curled into a slight smirk and adjusted his footing on the bed, to push you up against him with his knee as his hands encouraged you to grind against him, his hands pushing you back and forth until you got the memo and began grinding against him. One hand left his shoulder to grip at the headboard behind him, supporting you in grinding against him in a particularly hard stroke as you watched Eddie's mouth fall open and his eyes flutter closed at the sensation. You forced your hips forward again, a long stroke where you could feel your clit hit slightly past the ridge of his head earned a loud groan from Eddie as his head fell back, hair brushing lightly against your hand.

With each movement of your hips, slowly but each stroke daring longer and longer Eddie groaned beneath you, suddenly you missed the touch of his lips against yours so you bent down slightly to capture his plump flesh in a light bite which turned into a kiss. Eddie grasped desperately at the fat of your ass as he timidly licked into your mouth. The long strokes ran faster as you found your position above him and confidence overthrew your nervousness, you hungrily grinded against his cock, the seam of your shorts perfectly placed against your clit as the first thrust of his hips forced it harder into the delicate nub.

With that first thrust you couldn't help the loud slightly pornographic moan that fell from your lips, it had Eddie slowing his tackle on your mouth to watch in awe as he thrusted again, swallowing hard at the sound of a second moan. With the release of his lips you closed your eyes, your head rolling over on your shoulders to face the ceiling. Eddie stared at you, his mouth falling open as he watched your face intently. He thrust his hips again, harder this time to hear a now proper loud sultry moan echo in the room. Had you opened your eyes you would have seen the surprise and excitement on is face at your reactions, but you were too focused on revelling at the fact that your clit was being treated with perfect friction with each passing second.

His hands went back to forcing you back and forth over him, the efforts of his knee, his hands, your hips and his hands moving you back and forth made you move faster and faster against him. Unabashedly your moans picked up to short and high pitched with each force of your hips. Eddie groaned as you purposely pushed your weight down on him and it distracted him from watching you. He went back to falling against the headboard with his eyelids shut but eyes rolling to the back of his skull beneath them.

His groans of delight turned into deep moans when the pace picked up to impatiently fast, rubbing over his dick as quickly as you could. Not only was he getting some much needed relief but soon he felt the relief turn into active pleasure, his eyes flew open in an instant, fuck if you continued like this he was going to cum in his jeans. Jesus christ he would look so pathetic if he couldn't even hold it when you were simply making out. Was this making out? You weren't even kissing him?-

On the other side of the interaction was you, eyes squeezed tightly shut as your mouth dropped open to an exaggerated ‘o’ simply in the moment and not caring one bit that you might complete, it wasn't even the possibility, you knew that with only another minute you would come. And you chased that while picking the pace up once again averaging four strokes with each second, tits bouncing as you pushed yourself down on him.

-Would you be grossed out if he came? Would it be weird? Fuuuuck he was clenching his stomach now, willing his body to slow down, but he couldn't when you felt so damn good. “Shit” it was the first word you had said since walking into his room, and it snapped him right out of his overthinking “- Eddie, I’m gonna cum” you whined. “Wait really?” hang on, if you were cumming, he could too right? “Yeah” it was an answer to his question but it came out as a long moan as you rocked against him. Well that was all the answer Eddie needed and he relaxed, he was shocked that it was even possible but he forced you to rock faster and faster, now fully accepting the pleasure it was causing him. You moans came out louder and louder, almost like high pitched squeaks with each thrust.

They grew shorter and louder, building up to the inevitable orgasm you were experiencing, you repeated a string of “fuck, fuck, fuck” until finally Eddie heard one loud scream of a moan as your head became even heavier on your shoulders forcing you to almost fall onto your back before Eddie reached up quickly to hold at your back, one hand tightly wrapped around your waist while one splayed between your shoulderblades. Your hand moved from the headboard to grip at his shoulders as you rocked through your orgasm. Eddie had been so fixed on watching you that he hadn't even realized he too was at the brink of the edge “Mother fu- SHIIIIIT” he groaned as he curled in on himself, his forehead finding support against your cleavage as his body portrayed the action of a dry heave. He felt the thick ropes of cum shoot out of his slit to paint the inside of his boxers and create a sticky mess.

You were now panting heavily as a hand found its way to slither through his curls and hold you softly against your boobs while Eddie shook beneath you. When you finally came down from your high, only 15 seconds after the fact, you became aware that Eddie was still seemingly cumming. You watched in shock as he groaned beneath you and shook uncontrollably until finally what must have been a whole half minute he stilled and heaved heavily. His heavy breathing forces your hand on his shoulder to follow up and down.

You giggled at him as Eddie moved from your tits to fall back against his pillows, a light sheen of sweat holding his bangs to his forehead as he panted. “Jesus, is this how you normally are?” you joked “Gonna get me pregnant if you cum that hard, probably break the condom” Eddie's eyes opened to look at you through a frown of confusion “I don't know” you answered sheepishly at your weird joke, but Eddie only burst out into a loud laugh, it was intoxicating and led you to join in as well.

The laughter finally died down “I have actually never cum that hard in my life, so no need to worry” he joked. “I’ve uh never actually uh done this before” he gestured between your bodies “Or anything really” you couldn't help the snort that left your throat, Eddie went back to frowning at you “I’m, I’m sorry” now you couldn't help that the loud obnoxious giggle “no no really I’m sorry” you breathed, why was this even funny you had no idea “I, uh, I kinda figured, you didn't really make a move” you explained.

Eddie pulled a face “Hey, I didn't make a move because I wanted to be respectful of you” he argued “I didn't know if you were like, ready for stuff like this yet” he explained. “Oh that's so sweet” a squeak bubbled up behind your lips as you fought hard not to laugh again “What is so funny?!” Eddie asked exasperatedly, you instinctively went to cover your mouth as you scrunched your face up “It's not funny I swear” you told him after taking a deep breath. “Well it seems to be for you”, you looked at him with a much needed serious expression “It's not funny, it is really sweet, it’s just that, I dated Steve” Eddie shook his head desperately, while blinking profusely with his eyes closed “Sorry, dated? I thought you said you went out like one time” Eddie stressed the one by holding his finger out. You grabbed it and laced your fingers with his. “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew I’d scare you off, and I really wanted you to ask me out” you gave him an apologetic look “Robin, kinda told me to wait with that whole thing, she said you'd be insecure”

“Fucking Robin” Eddie scoffed, with a roll of his eyes before he they suddenly zoned in on you again “Wait, so how experienced are you?” he asked. “Well I’m not a virgin” Eddie's face fell at that “But!” you interjected before he could say something “If it helps, I’ve never cum that quickly or hard with Steve, or ever really” at that fact Eddie's face broke into a grin “That does help actually” you smiled at him.

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ultralightpoe · 5 months

Note

Can you do something with eddie and someone from scream? That don't really make sense but like the reader is a survivor of ghostface and kind celebrity for it. Like Sydney through the movies? There would be a time change but like that? That would be so amazing. I would give my left nut for that tbh. I don't have a left nut. But i gove one if I could.

Final Girl - Eddie Munson

Authors Note: This was from march, and I am cleaning out my drafts for y'all

Warnings: Slasher, wounds, eddie being a confused lil bug.

Word Count: 3813

Description: Eddie meets a final girl, and apparently trauma bonds

Enjoy!

College life sucked.

This wasn’t an actual shock to Eddie Munson, since he had never been great at school in the first place. Come on, he had been a super senior. Eddie Munson, who normally spent his life in fantasy could at least be realistic about ONE thing, he was not really meant for school.

But…. not many people got a second chance at life and not many people were given a full ride scholarship from the government.

Jason Carver, the ‘King of Hawkins High’, had taken the fall for Chrissy Cunningham. Eddie was released of any and all convictions, and the government had ‘thanked’ him. But he didn’t stop there, Eddie demanded something in return since he nearly died from the bats. So, Eddie Munson the super senior graduated with the help of his friends and Eddie Munson got a full ride scholarship from the government.

Wayne was able to open up his own contracting business and Eddie was able to move to his new college knowing that he would not die in Hawkins.

But that meant actually attending classes in college, something that Eddie found himself despising. More grumpy than not in the mornings he found himself ignoring the life around him, grumbling to himself as he trudged through the autumn leaves, his converse beginning to soak through from the rain that drenched the earth.

There was one good thing about mornings though, and that was who he sat by in his intro to Shakespeare class….You.

You were everything. Or at least Eddie thought so.

You always had a book with you in class, mostly fantasy which drew him in. You always looked angelic, even on days where you definitely just woke up, and most importantly you never talked to him like he was stupid which most people at this school had done. But most importantly he liked that you seemed to be fine on your own, whereas most of the class was desperate for friends. You were just fine sitting in the back like you didn’t care.

But that led to his next problem, he desperately wanted to get to know you.

He had tried to make conversation in the past, but the words never came out right and class was always packed with work so he never really got the chance to break the ice with you, but everyday he told himself that ‘Today is the day I’m going to talk to her’.

So he talked himself up on the way to class, fixing his rings as he tried not to focus on how cold his feet were before he was sitting beside you, the chain on his pants scraping in the chair as everyone bustled to their seats around him.

He waits patiently for you to join the class, taking a moment to survey the room of all your other shared classmates.

The front row held a cheerleader that reminded him of Chrissy, the sweet angelic smile and the same ponytail, the only problem was he had heard this version say a few icy things to her classmates and Eddie liked to think that Chrissy would have never.

There was a kid named Paul that sat just a row below him, three seats to the right. Whereas Eddie was more of a leather jacket rock and roll type Paul was all about the punk, mohawk dyed neon colors and piercings decking out his face. He always gave Eddie a rock on sign whenever they made eye contact and Eddie liked the minor alliance.

Before he could recognize anyone else you were pulling into your seat, rubbing your arm as if you were in pain as Eddie whips to smile at you. He gets nervous when you raise an eyebrow before giving him a tight lipped smile like he was crazy, then he realizes that his smile was a little too wide and he was the one sending crazy vibes so he simply clears his throat and taps his pencil on the tiny desk.

The seats on this campus were all made of cheap plastic that had bus cushions on the butt of the seat, and little desks that you could flip to the right to escape. He liked to think of it like he was buckling himself into a rollercoaster each time.

“Did you do the homework?” He blurts, trying to act cool as you stare at him.

“We had homework?” You ask, eyes snapping to the daily checklist before turning back to him. “Are you sure?”

“No, that’s why I was asking you.” He blushes, pushing some hair back behind his ear. “Because I didn’t remember if we had an assignment or not.”

“Well normally you can see when we do because our professor writes it down.” You whisper, using your pencil to point at the board the assignments usually are. You were leaning in like you were telling him a secret and Eddie couldn’t help but bask in your scent for a moment.

“Right….. I knew that.” He blushes, leaning in himself. “But if we are being totally honest here I might need some help with-”

“Alright settle down students! Let’s begin!” The professor calls and Eddie tries not to kick himself as he draws back to pay attention. So so close.

College life sucked.

You had talked yourself into going to college after the horrific events you survived, seeing it as a chance to make yourself a new person. Leave the bloody history behind and live your life.

It wasn’t everyday people got a second chance at life after all.

It had taken you months to convince your parents to let you go, and it had been a rough time to say goodbye to your close knit group of friends or as your hometown liked to call them ‘The survivors’. Tear stained goodbyes and tons of promises to stay in touch before you left and at the time you had thought it was for the best, but now that you were here you realized what a mistake you had made.

You had always thought that being away from the place where it happened might help you heal, but it only seemed to make it worse.

The winter cold made your wounds ache, which made it hard to move. You couldn’t seem to make a friend to save your life and whenever you get close you can never get over the fact that they might stab you just as he had. The nightmares grew worse since you didn’t know this place well and you didn’t really have a security set up which meant your roommate hated you and often whispered about you with other girls living in your dorm hall.

But the worst part was you saw them everywhere.

You saw Maya sitting with the cheerleaders at lunch, giggling and being the life of the party, no longer dead. You saw Dylan drumming on a desk rather than paying attention, and when he turned back to smile at you he didn’t have his throat slit.

You saw all your friends, or what could have been your friends, making themselves known in the world and each time you just felt like a huge imposter. You were wasting your life, it should have been you.

But the worst was when you saw them. Standing outside your window in the masks, watching from the doorway of your classes or trailing behind you at night.

You saw them everywhere, you saw flashes of that final fight every time you close your eyes. An ironic feat considering the news articles always read how lucky you were to ‘escape with your life’.

But there was no escaping them. You were trapped in an endless cycle of fear. You could trust no one and hurt no one.

That’s what made the chocolate eyed boy next to you so confusing. He had been seated next to you since the beginning of the year and you often caught him staring as if he was trying to think of things to say, and whereas you tensed around most people you never did with him.

Maybe that’s because you could feel the nervousness coming off him every time.

You were actually shocked that he spoke to you this morning, and you were even more shocked to find that his voice was a raw sort of calm that drew you in, which made you ashamed to admit you were a little upset that your professor interrupted because you were desperate to hear him talk forever.

But that spell broke as you watched the board up front, taking the next 40 minutes to regain your composure and think of all the things that could go wrong. He could know who you are and be an obsessed freak, wouldn’t be the first time. He could be a copycat, he could stab you. He could be worse and actually succeed this time.

What are the chances? You tried to remind yourself, taking a deep breath in only to stop when you see Stu standing in the doorway with his shirt covered in blood, smiling from ear to ear. You cough loudly, choking on your own hair as tears spring from your eyes, drawing attention from everyone in the class as the boy next to you reaches to hand you his water bottle.

You take it, chugging quickly as the soft bell goes off, setting the bottle back down with a quick thanks and bolting from your seat. You hear him yell out a ‘wait’ before he rushes to stand, hitting the desk harshly since he hadn’t put it up and cursing at the pain.

You use this as a chance to escape, dashing out the doors and barely turning back to see if Stu would follow.

He’s not real.

But he could be, and he could come back and he could-

“Wait wait wait, Jesus you are fast.” The stranger calls, panting as he catches up, a ringed hand flying to his right side as if he were in pain while staring at you. “You okay? Had a bit of a coughing attack in there.”

“Yeah, I just choked on air.” You half lied, not making eye contact. “Thanks for the bottle by the way…”

“Eddie. Well Edward but everyone calls me Eddie. Munson. Eddie Munson.” He blushes, holding out the hand that wasn’t holding his side.

“I’m-”

“Y/n. I know.” He smiles and you draw your hand back quickly, panic clawing at you as the fall wind hits your spine. Of course he knows, everyone knows. They are laughing at you.

“You know?”

“Yeah. You introduced yourself on the first day of class? You told everyone your favorite book was Frankenstein?” He chuckles, pink singing at his ears and cheeks as you nod. Jesus you paranoid freak, he’s just trying to be nice.

“Right. Yeah.” You smile, fixing your bag and moving to walk away before he walks with you slowly.

“I was actually going to ask for your help.”

“With?”

“Homework. Or well, just classwork in general. You see I am more of a fantasy kinda guy. Elves and goblins and dwarves but this whole classic literature is kicking my ass. And you seem to devour it like no other so I was hoping maybe you could help out.”

“Like do your homework?”

“No!” He laughs, moving to scratch the back of his neck. You notice then that his hand is still on his side, and when he catches you looking he snaps it back down and fixes the leather jacket to cover himself even with the shirt. “Maybe just tutoring sessions? I’ll get dinner or something.”

“Oh…” You think back to all the things you could say to get out of it, maybe that you just didn’t want to but then you see Maya walking by with a laugh and remember why you were here in the first place.

A second chance at life, right?

“I… okay.” You agree, something in your stomach easing at his smile.

You both agree to meet up Sunday night at a pizza place right off campus, which gives Saturday free of any and all obligation. With no classes and waiting to do homework tomorrow you find yourself with a free day, so you use it to call home.

Not your parents since you just know they will pick up on the slightest hint of sadness in your tone and demand you come home. Instead you call Randy, one of the other survivors from that night, and eagerly listen to all his news in bed.

He catches you up on everything back home, from the gym being redecorated to the radio station he works at, but it was only a matter of time before you both had to talk about it.

“They knocked the house down, there were too many break-ins lately.” He explains and you hear a slight shuffle on the other side, knowing him that meant he was pacing. “Nothing gets people hornier than death.”

“Figures.” You try to laugh, your throat tight as tears spring to your eyes.

“Actually Y/n, I am glad I got ahold of you. I wanted you to hear it from one of us rather than the world…” He starts and you take a deep breath as you try to control your panic.

“What’s up?”

“Kelvin…. He uhm, he sold the story.” Your heart lurches in your chest at the words, the tears falling freely now.

“He what?”

“A movie company reached out, bought the rights to the story-”

“But we all agreed we wouldn’t!” You snap.

“He said they offered him a lot-”

“I won’t sign off, they can’t use-”

“They won’t use your name. Trust me I’ve already tried on my end.” Randy sighs. “It’s being released soon, called ‘Slashed’ and-”

The second he says the name you recognize it. You had seen a poster for it on a walk through campus but hadn’t actually stopped to look at it. Oh my god.

“Randy, I have to go.” You rush out, a sob slipping past your lips as you hang up the phone right as your roommate comes back, glaring and rolling her eyes at the scene before her. You don’t hear what she mumbles under her breath, too lost in your own world.

“Yes Dustin, I heard you.” Eddie sighs, searching his mess of a dorm room for his leather jacket as Dustin lectures him over the phone.

“My flight lands in two weeks at 3, do you hear me Munson? You better have the couch clean enough for me to sleep on-”

“Dustin, dude, you need to have more trust. The room is all set up for your arrival.” Lie. “And I have so many fun things planned for you when you get out here.” Double lie.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” No. “And we’ll go see that movie you have been prattling on about-”

“Slashed is going to be so epic. Think Halloween but better Eddie-”

“Nothing is better than Halloweeen.” Eddie snaps, eyes finally landing on the leather jacket where he actually hung it up and snagging it, throwing it on and giving himself one last look in the mirror before he rushes a goodbye to his friend.”I’m running late and have togobye!”

Before he knows it he is on his way to meet you, books in hand as he walks across the street and towards the pizza place that sits right off campus. When he gets there he finds you already seated in a booth, your own books already open in front of you and he tries his best to remain cool when he walks up.

“Hey, how was your day off yesterday?” He asks, sliding into the seat across from you with an easy smile.

“Busy.” You smile, and he tries not to notice the way it doesn’t meet your eyes. “You?”

“Promised myself I would clean my room…..didn’t.” He jokes, and that finally cracks an actual smile out of you which makes his heart skip a beat. “Now I am ready to read shakespine and shove my face with pizza.”

“Speare.”

“Huh? Is that a type of pizza?”

“No. You said shakespine, it’s shakespeare.” You laugh and his eyes widen.

“I think I know why I failed the last assignment then.” How is he supposed to fight off that feeling of pride when you let out a loud laugh?

You had only expected to spend an hour with Eddie, but ended up spending four and closing the place down, to which he kindly offered to walk you back to your dorm. You said yes, partly because it was way too dark outside and partly because you wanted to spend just a little longer with him. More than you wanted to admit.

So you walked side by side, listening to him tell you about the funniest thing that had ever happened to his band ‘Corroded Coffin’ in detail before the conversation came to an easy lull. “Do you miss them?”

He looks over at you with a curious expression, waiting for you to explain. “Since you are here now, do you miss all your friends and family?”

“Well family wise it’s just my uncle Wayne and I, and I miss him greatly. I went from spending every day seeing him and never realized just how much I relied on him. He raised me and now I’m living in a world where I can’t dash to him with every bloody nose or black eye. And I just miss him a lot. My friends? I find that I miss some more than others. I miss my band, I grew up with them and they have known me since middle school, playing guitar doesn’t feel the same without them. But the Vecna crew? Jesus, I miss them all the time. Just thinking about them makes me feel like I’m lonely and ready to go back home.”

You knew that feeling all too well.

You spot the entrance to your building, taking the lead in walking up the steps until you get to the door, turning to smile at him softly. He is looking at you with the softest look you had ever seen, and you begin to get butterflies in your stomach.

“How about you?”

“My family and friends are….. Complicated.” You blush, the sound of Maya’s scream tearing through your mind.

“How so?”

“I wanted to escape them, but they are the only ones that know me.” You whisper and he nods in understanding, something flashing in the brown of his eyes. Like a scarred memory. He knows he knows he knows.

“I…. well I can’t say I know you as well as them, but I can say even knowing a quarter of you is a gift. And I would love to get to know more.” He says lowly, leaning in slightly and you find yourself leaning up yourself before the groan of the metal door behind you sounds out.

“Look who's back.” Someone snickers and you take a quick step back from Eddie who shoots you a curious look, only for you to wish him goodnight and rush inside the building as the two girls leave.

Your cheeks are pumping from your heartbeat, all the blood rushing to your face as you make a quick dash to your room.

This cannot happen. You can’t be so stupid again.

The next morning Eddie doesn't grumble to himself, and he doesn’t complain about having to wake up so early. Today he walks with a pep in his step as he makes his way to class, eager to see you.

As per usual he arrives first, sending a rock signal to Paul as he takes his seat, flipping the desk down and pulling out his writing tablet as his side begins stinging in pain. Taking a hand and rubbing at his side slowly to help ease the soreness of the scars when he feels you come near, eyes already planted on him rubbing his side in pain.

“Morning.” He greets, bringing his hand back down and giving you a smile.

“Good morning.” You smile back, taking a seat, your eyes casting to the door for a moment before your face blanches out quickly and you turn to him. “I had a lot of fun last night.”

“Me too, we should do it again sometime. Not to mention it will really help my grades.” He teases, smiling at you like a conspirator.

“We could always study for the test tonight?” You offer and Eddie feels like his body is on fire.

“I would love that.”

Dinners and study dates become a nightly thing with Eddie, and you find that you love them. You also find that each night he walks you home you are absolutely desperate for him to kiss you, and you keep getting closer and closer.

Like tonight, your shoulders had been bumping each other the entire time, laughing gently as you recalled the jokes you made at dinner, your pinky grazing his own as he stared at you before you made it to your building.

“Once again this is goodnight.” You blush, reaching a hand out to fix his leather jacket. “Same thing tomorrow?”

“Sadly not, I have plans with my friend Dustin.”

“Right, you guys were going to go watch a movie together on his first night back.” You smile, before your mind is brought back to the posters of the screaming face all over town. “Do you know what movie you’re seeing?”

“Sealand or something?” Eddie shrugs, eyes hooded a bit as he steps closer. “You okay?”

“Me? Of course.” You smile, pressing your nose against his as you lean up to trace your lips against his own. He hesitates for a moment before leaning and taking your lips on his own, his hands flying to your hips softly as he kisses you deeply. Butterflies erupt in your stomach and you make the mistake of opening your eyes, only to find Billy standing behind Eddie’s shoulder with a smile.

Drawing back with a sharp gasp that has Eddie staring wide eyed. “You okay?”

“Yes!” You rush out, kissing his cheek before moving to rush inside.

“What?” Billy laughs from behind you, following you into the building. “You didn’t forget about me did you? You didn’t wanna tell your boyfriend about me?”

“Go away.” You whisper.

“Didn’t want to admit how you killed me?”He laughs bitterly as you slam your bedroom door. Hesnotrealhesnotreal. He. Is. Not. Real.

Dustin is a big ball of excitement as Eddie leads him through the movie theater, watching people come out with shocked and excited faces.

“This movie has to be good.” Dustin rushes out. “Did you know it’s inspired by a true story?”

“What are we watching again?”

“Slashed.” Dustin smiles. “And it’s going to be so awesome.”

(Part 2 soon)

269 notes · View notes

braidlottie · 2 months

Text

copycat

pairing: professor!matthews x transmasc!student!reader

summary: after your english professor catches you plagiarizing on your latest essay, she gives you a punishment you'll never forget.

tags: smut, nsfw, 18+ (minors dni), BIG age gap (reader is 19, lottie is 40), professor matthews and reader secretly dating!!! this is not just a random hookup lmao, spanking, teasing, dirty talk, handjob/blowjob, professor matthews being mean :((

word count: 1k

"any more questions?" your professor turned around to the class after wiping the board. she got no reply, shrugging and putting her glasses on her head, holding her hair back. "okay! have a good one, everyone!" she excused everyone, watching them put on their backpacks and walk out.

this being your last class today, you were so happy to get home and relax. you can do your homework tomorrow. "hang on, honey. can i talk to you really quick?" professor matthews touched your shoulder, pushing you back down into your seat. "uhh- of course. is everything okay?"

she shut the door, and drew the curtains on the windows. she sucked in a hard breath, sitting back down in her chair. she gestured a "come here" with her fingers, slipping her glasses back on. she pulled out another chair from behind the desk, and you walked over to her. and as you sat down, you saw multiple paragraphs highlighted red. "does this look familiar to you?"

you began to read the hook of the essay, your stomach dropping when you realized it was yours. you turned to your instructor with wide eyes, the feeling finally settling in that you were caught.

"wait! it's not what it looks like." you tried to save yourself, but there was no hope. "it's exactly what it looks like, sweetheart." her hands were crossed, giving you a serious but sympathetic look. "would you like to tell me why you would copy an article and think that you would get away with it? and don't lie to me."

you had never seen this side of lottie before. she was always so kind to you and seeing her so hostile and you being the cause of it, was a little intimidating.

"i-i couldn't think of anything to write, so- i don't know, i just copied that last minute and turned it in." you answered with a pitiful look, and she hummed. "i see. so what you're saying is, i gave you a whole week to write a two page essay and you forged it?" you nodded shamefully.

“such a naughty boy.”

something about that made your cock twitch.

"please don't tell anyone, can you just pass me like you always do?" you were pleading, knowing that plagiarism this serious could get you kicked out of school. "if anything, i should tell someone! i should drop you from this class right now."

regretful tears of shame began to well in your eyes, lottie noticing and sighing. "'m really sorry, lottie. just- don't drop me, please."

she tsks, standing up and holding your chin up. "fine, i won’t say a word to anyone. but i’m not letting you get off scot-free.”

she pulled you up by your shirt, one of her hand on your ass cheek and the other on your belt buckle. she slowly held up your shirt, marveling at your chest. you couldn't believe how fast she loosened your belt with one hand, the buckle jingling as you whined when you realized how embarrassing your boxers were.

"spider-man? really? god, you just get cuter and cuter, don't you?" she shook her head. "i want you to bend over, so i can spank that little ass. you deserve it for being such a bad boy." she forces you over her desk, pulling down your boxers teasingly slow. "lottie.. please..." you looked back at her, squirming when her nails scratched your ass. "you don't have to do this."

"oh, but i do." she smacked your right cheek, getting a loud groan out of you. "and you better stay quiet." lottie noticed how your groans got whinier and desperate after each spank. "i think you actually like this, hmm? you like it when your professor spanks you for being so naughty?" her voice got deeper, her rhythm not skipping a beat. you whined, shaking your head against the wood.

"then, what's this?" her hand swipes up your thigh, collecting the slick dripping into your boxers that you had no knowledge of. "i bet you're hard right now, hmm?" you couldn't even answer, groaning into the desk. she turned you around, your tdick rising from the surprising gust of wind. "aww, look at that," she lifted you up by your thighs, sitting you on the desk. she lifted up the hood, finding your throbbing, pink head. "fuck." you squirmed in her hold.

"ah, ah, don't curse. bad boy." your dick was held in-between her fingers, stroking you up and down. “fu-ahh!” you felt her hand slap over your mouth.

“am i going to have to gag you? be. quiet.”

now that you think about it, you were kind of glad you plagiarized.

you were trying to say something, but your mouth was still covered by lottie. “what was that, sweetie?”

“i want your mouth. please.”

“you want my mouth? where, sweetheart?”

you hated when she made you describe everything so literally, especially during sex.

“c’mon, tell me, baby.”

“you already know.”

“but i want you to tell me.” her hands squeezed around your waist.

“mm- i want your mouth on my cock, please.” lottie grinned at your shyness, soaking up all the adorableness from your embarrassment. “good boy. since you asked so nicely…”

she crouched down, tongue swirling about on your twitching cock, your cunt clenching onto nothing so needily. “lottie…”

“you know that’s not my name here, sweet boy.” she watched your face scrunch up in desperation. “professor… ‘m gonna cum,” you choked out, your thighs trembling from the wet, warm feeling of lottie’s lips sucking you.

“oh, i bet you are. cumming in your professors mouth on her desk? such a dirty little boy.”

you whimpered, so close to the edge.

then all of it just- stopped.

“nononono, please, please, lottie-” you shook your head, crying from the denial. “you didn’t think i was really going to let you cum, right?”

a tear flung from your eye and lottie scoffed, brushing it away with her thumb. “you’re still on punishment, darling.”

she pulled your shirt down and helped you off the desk, pulling your boxers and pants back up. “you better go home, and write that essay, the right way, and have it on my desk as soon as class starts monday. and you better not touch yourself. understand me?”

“yes.”

“yes, what?” she zipped up your pants, kissing your neck.

“yes, professor.”

“there’s my good boy. now run along.” she spanked your stinging bottom once more to send you on your way, watching your legs wobble as you scrambled out of the room.

taglist: @t4tnat @jaywritessometimes @girltwinklater @kessellluvr @lotties-ashwagandha @shipmanisms

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #lottie matthews #lottie x reader #lottie matthews smut #lottie yellowjackets #lottie matthews x reader #lottie mathews x reader #adult lottie #charlotte matthews #professor matthews

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bellaxgiornata · 9 months

Text

All These Years [Part 16: "The Death of Miscommunication"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of installments for All These Years here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 4.9k

a/n: The frustration should mostly leave us all in this one! The gradual comfort and fluff slowly begins from here on out! You survived the worst of the angst and we're going to head towards a happy ending! Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @margoo0 @1988-fiend @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @justalittlebitbored @am-3-thyst @buckybarnes-1917 @thora-jane @lionalsowrites @cloudroomblog @prince-tassel @danzer8705 @yourlocalbentspine @harperdoodle @hollandorks @mattmurdocksstarlight @yeonalie

“So your grades were finally posted and now it's a literal fact that Karen Page is a goddamn smarty pants?” you teased.

Across from you on your couch, Karen giggled and snuggled further under the blanket you were both sharing. Both of you were cradling a glass of white wine in your hands, the leftover Thai food you’d had for dinner sitting on your coffee table.

Karen’s flight had gotten in about three hours ago and you had been beyond excited for her to be staying the week at your place. Though it felt so strange having part of your New York life in LA, and it certainly meant a particular someone from New York was on your mind a bit more than usual today.

“I’m honestly shocked I did so well with everything I’ve had going on,” Karen told you. “I mean, that was a full class load and I was helping Foggy and Matt at the office part time.”

Something stirred in your chest at the mention of Matt, your smile momentarily faltering before you forced it back on your face. “Yeah,” you agreed. “Honestly when you told me you’d just go down to working part time while taking classes and working on your law degree, I thought you’d finally gone insane. I don’t know how you’re going to keep that up, but more power to you if you can, Kare.”

“Thanks,” she said, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “So you’re still enjoying the new job here?”

You nodded, bringing your wine glass up to your lips for a drink. Swallowing down the slightly sweet wine, you continued to smile back at Karen, though it felt a little strained.

“Yeah, I enjoy the job. Admittedly the pay has had a lot to do with that,” you replied. “And I’ve been enjoying the new city, but I’ve told you that already. The food here is honestly just as incredible as back in New York, but now I actually have the money to indulge in it more often. And the night life is…entertaining, to say the least.”

Karen laughed, drawing her own glass of wine towards her mouth. The glass hesitated by her lips for a moment though as her sharp blue eyes studied you silently.

“You know,” she began slowly, “I’ve noticed you don’t talk about your dating life much out here.”

Your brows drew together, head tilting to the side. Had you not mentioned it to her? You knew you hadn’t really said much to Foggy, not really wanting it to get back to Matt and end up hurting him that you’d been so actively dating, but you didn’t realize you hadn’t told Karen much.

“I haven’t?” you asked her.

She shook her head, swallowing down her sip of wine. “No,” she answered. “Have you been dating?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, heat burning at your cheeks as you focused on the wine glass in your lap. “It was difficult at first, because it–it sort of felt wrong, you know?”

“Because of Matt?” Karen asked.

You nodded, your gaze still focused on the glass of wine in your lap. Your fingers lightly drummed along the side of it nervously. You desperately wanted to ask her about Matt but you were afraid to know what had been going on with him since you’d left.

“But yes, I’ve been dating,” you confessed.

“Has…anything come of it?” she asked curiously. “Have you met anyone?”

Clearing your throat nervously, eyes still averted, you shook your head. “I’ve…met a lot of someones, actually,” you told her. “But not a particular someone.”

“Wow,” Karen said in surprise.

Her tone caused you to look back up at her, shocked to see she was grinning back at you from the other end of the couch. Your brows drew together in confusion; you’d expected her to be a little upset because she had known about your feelings for Matt and his feelings for you. Part of you had wondered if she might consider it some sort of betrayal to him that you’d been sleeping with other men since you now knew your feelings weren’t one-sided.

“So you’ve been putting yourself out there and actually enjoying being single?” she asked. “Not just holed up in your apartment or at work, but actually out here living your life?”

You smiled sheepishly at her, nodding in response. “Yeah,” you admitted. “I’ve been getting out quite frequently.”

“Good,” she replied. “I’m happy for you. LA seems like it’s been good for you then. Because I know how tied to your job you were back in Hell’s Kitchen. And how…unavailable you often made yourself. You seem to be enjoying it here.”

Your smile faltered yet again this evening. Karen’s perceptive gaze immediately caught the small downward movement of your lips, though. Her piercing blue eyes narrowed back at you.

“What’s that about?” she asked, gesturing towards your face.

"What?" you asked innocently.

"That look," she clarified. "You are happy here, right? Because you always make it seem that way when we talk to you, but…that was definitely a look that said there's more to the story."

You shifted on the couch, drawing your legs further into yourself under the blanket. Not wanting to lie to Karen, you decided to be entirely honest.

"I like it here," you answered truthfully. "I do. And I've been pretty content since I moved. This apartment is far nicer than the one I had in Hell’s Kitchen, and I actually have a savings account that isn't sad to look at. I've made some friends out here," you continued. "And I haven't had much issue when it comes to finding guys to, you know, sleep with. I mean there's…been a surprising amount."

"Oh my God," Karen said with a giggle on the other side of the couch. "I am dying to hear about all of those details while I’m here."

Nervously biting your lip, your fingers once again drummed along the side of your wine glass. You could feel the shift in Karen’s demeanor instantly, as if she had simultaneously picked up on the shift in your mood.

"But it's not what I want," you admitted quietly, shaking your head. "I don't want to keep sleeping around with a different guy almost every week."

"Shit," Karen whispered in disbelief. "Almost weekly? You've certainly been busy."

You sent her another sheepish smile which had her swiftly shaking her head and waving a hand quickly between the pair of you.

"Like I said, I'm proud of you for putting yourself out there," she explained. "No judgment whatsoever. Honestly? I'm envious because I've been too busy to even think about sex. But I'm guessing the reason it's not what you want has a lot to do with a certain lawyer with a questionable hobby back in Hell’s Kitchen?"

Exhaling a long breath, one of your hands began anxiously running through your hair. It had taken you this past month to fully come to that conclusion yourself. For a while you'd tried to tell yourself it was just because you'd wanted more from the men you kept seeing here, but soon it started to become glaringly obvious that you couldn't hide from the truth.

You were still in love with Matthew Murdock.

Moving to the other side of the country hadn’t magically gotten rid of your feelings for him. They were still there. And while that ache in your chest hadn’t hit you as often, and you weren’t sitting around constantly crying over Matt once you’d really settled into your life here, you couldn’t deny the truth. You missed him and you wanted him. These other men had only made that clearer for you.

"Yes," you replied. "Everything is great here, and I’ve been trying to be open-minded and meet new people. But I still have feelings for Matt. I tried hard to move past him, but I–I just can't. I love him, Karen. That hasn't changed."

Karen leaned forward towards you on the couch, sitting up a bit straighter. There was a small smile on her face as she gazed back at you.

"Where do you…stand with all of that?" she asked. “With him?”

You shrugged a shoulder, shaking your head. "I don't know," you told her. "I'm still a little hurt about him letting me think he was dead for so long when he wasn’t–that all of you did, if I'm being honest."

"I'm sorry," Karen apologized immediately. "I didn't want to do that to you, but I didn't want you to get hurt. None of us did."

"I know you're all sorry and regret it," you told her. "I’ve heard the apologies countless times from each of you. And I believe you all, which is why I've forgiven you. All three of you, including Matt, because I think he grew from the situation and truly learned from it. But that doesn't erase the hurt it caused.” Shoulders sagging, your eyes dropped down to the glass of wine in your lap. You swirled the liquid, watching as it spun in a circular motion in the glass. “And then there's the whole thing with Erica," you continued quietly.

"He's not with her," Karen stated.

A hopeful feeling blossomed in your chest at her words, your eyes slowly rising from the glass of wine to see Karen staring back at you. Had Matt really not gone back to her when you left then? He wasn't still thinking about marrying her?

"He's not?" you asked timidly.

Karen shook her head firmly. "No, he hasn't been with anyone. I think he's always hopeful you'll suddenly show up in Hell’s Kitchen again someday. He’s either always working on some case or another for the firm, keeping himself busy, or he’s out scouring rooftops around Hell’s Kitchen at night. He really doesn’t do anything else–besides mope, I suppose.”

“Oh,” you breathed out. “So he’s not…seeing anyone? Sleeping with anyone?”

“Nope,” Karen said, her smile growing wider.

Matt wasn’t dating.

It had been nearing six months since you’d left Hell’s Kitchen–left Matt after his confession of having feelings for you as well–and he wasn’t dating. Which was unheard of. Because it was Matt . You’d always known him to be with someone, whether it was a one night sort of thing or him casually dating someone. Matt was always with someone.

But ever since you’d left he hadn’t been with anyone else.

“Why?” you asked her. “He’s usually always turning on the charm and getting attention.”

Karen dramatically rolled her eyes at you, her smile widening. “Are you seriously asking me that? Matt confesses he has feelings for you months ago, right before you hop on a plane, and then suddenly he has the most impressive lack of a dating history he’s ever had? And you can’t put two and two together?”

“Because of…me?” you whispered.

“Obviously!” Karen said, leaning forward and swatting your leg. “You know, the other week the three of us were out to lunch and this woman came right up and flirted with him at our table. And you know what he said?”

“Something witty accompanied with that damn charming smile of his?” you deadpanned.

“No!” Karen exclaimed. “He told her he wasn’t interested!”

Your brows drew together on your forehead. That wasn't like Matt. He usually loved the attention, or at least it always seemed like he did, and he would inevitably turn on the charm and flirt back even if he declined anything more.

"You both still aren't talking, right?" Karen asked, a mischievous grin forming on her lips.

Your eyes narrowed at her suspiciously. "No, we aren't," you answered slowly. "He hasn't reached out to me and I wasn't sure why. And the more time that went by, the more terrified I became at the thought of reaching out myself. I–I figured he didn’t want to hear from me because I hadn’t heard from him."

"Well, Fog wanted me to do a video call with you while I was out here." She shrugged innocently despite the devious smile on her face only growing. "I figured we could call him Monday mid-afternoon their time because I know they both will be there at the office. It'd be a chance for you and Matt to finally talk again." She raised a brow at you. "What do you say?"

Chewing your lip, you felt nerves swirling in your stomach. You'd get to see Matt again, even if it wasn’t in person. Talk to him. Hear his voice. The thought alone had your heart racing.

"Yeah," you whispered. "Okay."

Sitting beside Karen on the stools at the breakfast bar in your kitchen, you were nervously chewing your thumbnail as you rested your elbows on the white quartz counter. She was dialing Foggy on her phone for the video chat that she'd mentioned the other day and you were feeling incredibly anxious.

It had been months since you'd spoken to Matt at all, and with the way you'd left him back in Hell’s Kitchen, you weren't sure what to expect. Maybe he wouldn't want to talk to you at all. And with how you knew he felt about the people he loved leaving him, you wouldn't be surprised.

But the longer you sat there, hearing the phone ringing as you waited for Foggy to answer, the more nervous you felt yourself growing. By the time Foggy finally answered the call, shouting your name in excitement when he first saw you, you felt ready to run to your bathroom and throw up.

Though that could also have been due to the aftereffects of your night out with Karen last night.

"Hey, Fog," you greeted him in return.

Despite the way your stomach was churning and roiling violently, making you feel sick and a little on edge, a large smile spread across your face at the sight of one of your absolute best friends. It hit you in that moment just how long it had been since you'd last seen him. You definitely had missed him and his words of advice and comfort that you'd come to rely on over the years.

"How are two of Hell’s Kitchen’s finest ladies doing out in LA today?" Foggy asked, a broad smile on his own face.

"Tired, we were up late last night," Karen said with a laugh. "We actually only woke up about an hour ago."

Foggy glanced down at his watch, his face scrunching up. A second later his eyes closed as if he was thinking.

"Isn't it about eleven in the morning out there?" Foggy asked, his eyes opening again. "So you both woke up around ten this morning?"

"Well we didn't go to sleep until after two," you informed him. "And we needed our beauty rest for another night out tonight."

"Ahh, so that's why you ladies look so lovely this morning," Foggy teased.

You saw Karen roll her eyes beside you in the small screen that was displaying the pair of you. But your mind was already on something else as you took in the sight of Foggy sitting in his office. Chewing your thumbnail nervously again, you worked up the courage to just ask.

"Is Matt there?" you blurted, full well knowing he'd have heard you asking for him if he was.

Karen immediately grinned at your question, waggling her brows playfully at Foggy who's mouth had dropped open. He looked stunned on the screen and that only had heat creeping up your cheeks.

Quickly trying to recover, Foggy nodded. "Yeah, he is," he answered. "He's just over in his office. Do you…want me to see if he's free to chat, too?"

You saw the hopeful, overeager look on his face and only felt your face heating further. You had a feeling Karen and Foggy had planned this somehow, trying to find a way to get you and Matt to finally reconnect after your move. But if it worked, you weren't about to complain about their scheming.

"Yeah, if he's not busy," you answered nervously. "I don't want to bother him."

"Trust me," Foggy said, swiftly rising to his feet from his desk chair, "you're not going to be bothering him."

You watched Foggy make his way out of his office, eventually passing Karen’s desk before you heard the knock he made on Matt's office door. The camera was focused on the side of Foggy’s face when you heard Matt call out from inside his office in response, his voice just registering over the phone. You sucked in a nervous breath instantly–it had been far too long since you’d heard that voice.

From beside you, Karen sent you a reassuring smile. It didn’t help to ease the knotting of your stomach though as you heard Foggy opening Matt’s office door. Shoving your thumbnail back into your mouth, your teeth began aggressively gnawing on it. You heard Foggy telling Matt that he was on the phone with you and Karen, though you had a feeling he already knew with his hearing. Admittedly you were glad his senses couldn’t pick up on much through the phone though, because you were sure your body was doing all sorts of things right now.

For a few seconds you saw the camera jostling around before both Matt and Foggy came into view on Karen’s phone screen. Your teeth bit down hard on your nail, your heart nearly exploding out of your chest at the bright smile on Matt’s face just beneath his familiar red glasses. He greeted you first, the sound of your name coming from his mouth making your heart stutter in your chest. It was a moment before he seemed to remember to greet Karen, too, which she was quick to tease him about. But you sat there feeling like you couldn’t breathe just at the sight of him.

Because there he was. Matt. Your Matt. In his white dress shirt and a dark red tie today, one that matched his lenses. The stubble was a bit darker on his cheeks than usual and his hair looked a little windswept, but there was a bright smile on his face, one that had the lone dimple in his right cheek visible. You found yourself suddenly overcome with the desperate urge to reach through the phone and hug him.

You had definitely missed him. More than you’d apparently realized.

“Hey, Matty,” you finally greeted, feeling a little shy.

You were aware there was a massive, idiotic smile on your face that you were glad he couldn’t see. But unfortunately for you, Foggy and Karen could see it. Though Matt’s smile only seemed to grow wider across his face when you’d spoken, which only kept your eyes completely glued to him despite Foggy standing just beside him. He actually seemed happy to be hearing from you and you soon felt foolish for thinking he'd feel otherwise.

"I hope you're enjoying your time with Karen," Matt said.

"Yes," you replied immediately, your face somehow heating further at your next words. "Though I–I wish you could have all come out to visit me."

You saw the looks both Foggy and Karen exchanged over the video at your comment, Foggy’s smile widening even further. Because they were aware of what that comment really meant. They knew what you were trying to say.

And judging by the look of surprise on Matt’s face, his dark brows rising onto his forehead for a long moment, he was surprised to hear you'd wished he could be there, too. When he recovered, the smile he sent you next had your heart racing. He was so handsome, your memory certainly hadn't done him justice.

"I wish we weren't so busy here at the firm," Matt told you. "We would have liked to join Karen if we could have."

"Well, I'm–I'm happy to hear the firm is doing so well lately," you replied nervously. "Though I've…definitely missed you all."

You saw Matt reach up, one hand pulling his glasses off of his face and revealing the soft, affectionate look in his hazel eyes as they focused just to the side of the camera. A warmer, sweeter smile had drawn itself across his lips, the sight causing your hands to grip your countertop firmly.

"We've definitely missed you, too," he said quietly.

"Okay, okay," Foggy cut in, waving a hand in front of Matt's face and the phone. "Just so everyone is clear, you're both saying you missed each other." He turned and looked at Matt, shooting him a pointed stare as he said firmly, "And she's saying she wouldn't mind if you visited her in the future." His head turned swiftly as he shot you a look through the phone, his eyes narrowed. "Right? Because I don't want any more miscommunication with you two. I've had years of it."

Biting your lip, you nodded nervously. "Yes," you replied shyly. "That's exactly what I'm saying."

Your heart felt like it flew into your throat when Foggy focused back on Matt. You weren’t sure what to expect of his reaction even after hearing his confession to you months ago.

"Okay, so are you on board with using your words now, Matt?" he asked him. "I know you're good with them, I see you in court all the time, buddy."

Matt chuckled lightly, nodding his head. You couldn't tell if it was the phone or not, but it almost looked like Matt was faintly blushing when he spoke.

"Yes, I'm saying I missed you," he confessed. "And that I wish I could have come to visit you, too."

"Excellent!" Foggy exclaimed. He threw an arm around a grinning Matt’s shoulders beside him. “The miscommunication finally ends! We shall forever call this moment the death of miscommunication! But you two can talk to each other on your own and catch up another time, because I want to hear about Karen’s time in LA so far. And I especially want to know why you girls were out until two in the morning on a Sunday night.”

A look of surprise washed over Matt’s face, his lips pulling up into a curious grin. “You know, I’d like to hear about this, too. I’m guessing it involved drinking?” he asked.

“It definitely involved drinking,” Karen answered, a grin on her own face. “And dancing.”

“Oh, well now this I’ve got to hear!” Foggy said excitedly.

The moment you saw Foggy turn and shoot Matt a smile, and you saw the smile that spread across Matt’s own face in return, you knew exactly what they were about to bring up. You groaned, rolling your eyes.

“Did she dance on any tables, Karen?” Foggy asked, his focus returning to the two of you.

“Belt out any songs?” Matt added.

Throwing your face in your hands, you groaned louder. Beside you, Karen was laughing and shaking her head.

“No, but I feel like there’s a story in there,” she said.

“Oh there most certainly is!" Foggy began enthusiastically. "So there was this night, just a few months after we first met her at Columbia, where we brought her to a party. She got really drunk. Like, I don’t know how many shots I saw go down this one’s mouth that night,” he said, pointing at you through the phone as you peaked at him through your fingers, “but holy shit. She was intoxicated . Almost immediately after us arriving.”

“I remember she was holding onto me for support the duration of the night,” Matt teased, a big smile on his own mouth.

"And I remember apologizing profusely the next day because I'd ruined your night," you grumbled.

"Nah," Matt said with a shake of his head and a broad smile on his face. "You didn't ruin my night."

"You had one beer the whole time!" you reminded him. "And Foggy said you spent the whole night taking care of me."

"I didn't mind," he said with a shrug, the smile still on his face. "I wanted to make sure you were alright. And it meant I got to spend the entire night with you clinging to me."

Your bottom lip rolled back between your teeth at his words, a rush of warmth abruptly flooding you. You vaguely remembered that night, but you'd always felt bad about how it had gone. You’d always guiltily felt like you'd ruined Matt’s evening because you'd gotten so drunk. Always thought he'd felt obligated to take care of you, making it so he couldn't go back to anyone else's dorm for what you figured he usually did after parties, but apparently he was happy to have you attached to him that night. Which had been news to you.

"Besides," Matt continued, "even drunk, it was still a little hot watching you on that table."

Foggy snorted out a laugh as your face suddenly burned with embarrassment. Beside you, Karen let out a giggle as Matt continued to smile back at you through the phone screen.

"You only heard what Fog told you about it, Matt," you shot back. "You didn't actually get to experience it fully that night, so I don’t know how you think you can tease me about that."

A devilish smirk slid across his mouth, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Heightened senses, sweetheart,” he said smoothly. “I experienced it quite well, actually."

Your eyes widened in shock, your mouth falling open. He only chuckled when you cried out in further embarrassment before burying your face back into your hands.

"I don't want to reminisce anymore!" you shouted. “It’s vastly too mortifying knowing the things I know now!”

The three of them laughed as you tried to disappear into your countertop. You couldn’t even begin to imagine all of the moments you didn’t realize Matt was aware of more than you had known. Though a part of you did wonder what moments with Matt you’d misread all those years ago.

Settling onto your couch, you flipped on your television and skimmed absently through the channels. Your apartment felt empty now that Karen had left a bit ago to catch her flight back to New York. It had been a fun week having her here, especially because it felt like she’d brought a bit of Hell’s Kitchen with her. But now that she was gone, your apartment seemed oddly quiet and a little lonely. Even the noise of the television didn’t seem to help with that.

You’d done another short video call with her a few days after the first one, feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush the moment Matt joined Foggy on the call with his smiling face. The memory of him pulled at your heartstrings now, making you feel a little teary-eyed as you tried to focus on the television. You missed all three of them and Hell’s Kitchen, but you’d gradually started to make a life out here in LA. You had an amazing career here, one that paid exceptionally well. It wasn’t realistic for you to uproot back to New York on a whim just because you missed your friends. Even if you happened to have really strong, not-so-friendly feelings for one of those friends. This was your life now, at least for the time being. The feelings from Karen’s visit would eventually fade and things would return to how they were.

For some reason that thought only made you feel worse.

Your phone vibrated on your coffee table, the brief buzzing noise catching your attention. Curious, you leaned forward and saw you had a text message. You figured it would be from Karen letting you know she was bored at the airport, or maybe Alicia wanting to meet up tomorrow for lunch. She’d certainly had fun meeting Karen the other night. But you were surprised to see it was Matt’s name that had shown up on your screen. It had been months since he’d reached out to you, and even though Foggy had claimed the pair of you had put your miscommunication to death the other day, neither of you had actually reached out to the other all week. You wondered if he ever would, or if it would be up to you to figure out what to say to break the strange lack of communication between the pair of you.

Opening up his text, your eyes read over it quickly.

2:36PM Matt: Foggy just told me Karen is at the airport now. Figured you were probably feeling a little down. Just wanted to let you know I was thinking about you.

Your eyes ran over the text multiple times, your heart beating a little faster as you did. He’d reached out to you. After months of silence, he’d actually reached out. It was only through text, but still, that was better than nothing. Your eyes reread the last line of his text a few more times, a small smile steadily growing on your lips as you did because he was thinking about you. You . No one else. Just you.

There were certainly things that Matt and you needed to discuss, things better discussed in person if there was ever the opportunity, but this was good. This was progress. This was you and Matt hopefully finding your way back to each other with honest communication.

With a glimmer of hope building inside of you, your fingers flew across your phone as you began to type up a response.

[END NOTES]

I like end notes, alright? 🤣 For those who read FFTD over on AO3, y'all know the novels I write there.

So they're finally talking again!! And we see Reader fully acknowledge the fact that she still loves Matt, even if her life is still very much rooted in LA at the moment. Once again we can thank Foggy and even Karen for pushing the two to finally talk!

From here on out the angst slowly fizzles out, but it still exists because, well, there's clearly physical distance between Matt and Reader. But at least they're going to openly communicate with each other and be honest about their feelings. It only took YEARS for them to reach this point! Hopefully y'all are still enjoying this series as it now reaches the fluffy and eventually smut-filled installments! Is there a long distance relationship with Matty in the future? You'll have to wait and see...

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock series #matt murdock

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