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#he's excelling in all his classes
demobatman · 10 months
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"lucas is a himbo--" i kill you on the spot.
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Horikoshi, repeatedly: People are shaped from the environments that they are born in. They are complex and not two dimensional. Some hard times affect others more, and they can lash out in harmful ways. That doesn't mean they're bad people, and that doesn't mean they can't change. Their actions may be reprehensible or unforgivable, but they are still human.
This fandom, time and time again: That can't stop me because I can't read.
#like all of the LOV#the Todoroki family and how they all have their own ways of interacting with the trauma passed down to them#Bakugou's family life and the expectations and bullying from society#Midoriya facing discrimination for being quirkless- from his MOTHER AND TEACHERS NO LESS#Iida trying to kill Stain#Stain's ideology having roots in actuality but still being flawed because of his methodology#you don't HAVE to agree with all of them#but you are expected to SYMPATHIZE with their issues and UNDERSTAND who they are and why they got to that point#you can't condemn Endeavour for his abuse while showboating Dabi's unhealthy reaction to it#they were BOTH a product of their enviornment and they BOTH have seriously hurt people with their actions#you can't support Dabi murdering innocent people and then get mad at Bakugou for being a bully in middle school#you can't support early Shouto for being a dick to the class and condemn Bakugou for doing the same thing#they both grew up in harsh enviornments with difficult expectations. heavy pressue. and a warped view of the world#it's not about who had it better or worse#a cookie is burnt if it's just the bottom or the entire thing is charred#you can get salmanella from chicken that's raw all the way through or from just one piece not being cooked well enough#y'all need to stop supporting character flaws but only in the direction you like#you can't say that Mic supported Uraraka's excellence while saying he was also right to condemn Bakugou#no fucking duh Uraraka's potential ONLY came out because BAKUGOU brought it out (unlike Todoroki freezing Sero whole)#you can't say that Mic's human tics and that his underlying issues are good while saying that Aizawa pushing his trauma aside is bad#bruh they are doing the same fucking thing#I love All Might as a character but I can't support him as a mentor because of the devestating effect he has had on Midoriya#the amount of sheer hypocrisy in this fandom is astounding#that shit goes from sentence to sentence- y'all will literally put contradictory statements right beside of each other and not bat an eye#also stop comparing Bakugou to Endeavour- they have similar arcs of understanding but one of them is a literal child#it's really rude to the Todoroki family to say that their abuser and tormentor is just as bad as a middle school bully :/#Endeavor growing and changing as a person is one thing you can chose to indulge or support- you can like or hate him#but his arc is specifically ABOUT being shaped by hid environment and how that can affect others (his kids)#not to mention how they all have different ways of responding to the treatment and different feelings about his future#you can't read that shit and keep trying to say 'no there IS a right answer' because there's not.
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bumblingbabooshka · 1 year
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The appurtenant crew of the USS Historia: From star to shining sea!
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heycoyotegirl · 10 months
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love how the message of season 4 was that you have to have extremely good grades and have gone to parties to be able to successfully adjust to university
#nhie s4 spoilers#nhie s4#nhie#never have i ever#nhie critical#if you had mediocre grades or were too uptight might as well not even bother going since you're apparently fucked#like. devi ben and fab all got into an ivy and seemed to be enjoying university and doing well right away#meanwhile we have eleanor who gets 1 rejection and gives up on furthering her education entirely (why didn't she think about film school??)#and paxton who worked So Hard to get into college only to immediately drop out just because his roommate was shitty#& blair who was an excellent student but partied too hard and failed out and tried to keep it a secret because it was 'kind of humiliating'#like. blair mentioned that she was burnt out but then it was almost immediately reframed as her having been 'too perfect' in high school#the only character who never planned to go to college was trent who was so bad at school he had to repeat his senior year#why weren't there any students who had done well at high school yet struggled academically even though they were genuinely trying?#or students who hadn't done super well in high school but then thrived in university when they had more freedom to choose their classes#where were the top students who didn't get into their first choice school? or knew that they didn't want to go to college at all?#obviously the show couldn't cover every possible permutation of how people decide whether to go to college and then how they adjust to it#but it's uhhh not great that the 3 'smartest' main characters were admitted into ivies and immediately thrived at university#while the 3 who struggled with school or prioritized non-academic interests either didn't try to go to college or gave up extremely fast#the show has always had moments where characters will be elitist but it seemed much more prominent & tied into the narrative this season#my post#my meta#tag ramble
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hanaasbananas · 1 year
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the longer i teach in yr1, the more convinced i become that hawkmoth would have won ages ago if he just... akumatised children. there is a child in my class who started throwing chairs and flipped a table bc he didn't want to sit on a table with other kids for phonics, and just this afternoon one kid didn't want to tidy up for the end of the day and sit on the carpet for DRP so he rugby tackled another child and it took two of us to prise him off the poor kids leg. not to mention the kid who looks like an angel but WILL go for other kids THROATS unprovoked and we still haven't figured out what the specific trigger is.
the amount of times we've had to barricade a child in the cloakroom so they can work out their rage without hurting anyone is WILD
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desertleviathan · 2 years
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So it occurs to me that I got into FFXIV after I'd suspended this blog. So let me tell you a little about what I've been up to.
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This is Captain Siege Zabac, a Hyur Highlander from the Gyr Abania region. His parents were rebels opposed to King Theodoric, and they died in that conflict not long before the Garlean XIVth Legion took advantage of the resulting turmoil to stage their own successful invasion. Siege survived for a few years as a semi-feral street orphan in Ala Ghiri until at the age of 14 he was conscripted by the Empire. The Garleans didn't see a child, they saw a threat that could be commandeered into an asset. If a youth was tall enough and strong enough to hold a hunting spear, then they were tall enough and strong enough to hold an imperial pike instead. As per Imperial policy regarding conscripts from conquered territories, they sent Siege far from home to serve on the front lines of the occupation of Bozja to the east, under the command of the VIIth Legion. (This is where he started on the path of a Lancer that eventually evolved into becoming a Dragoon after he earned the companionship of Midgardsormr.) Siege was clever enough to recognize that technicians had longer probable lifespans than infantrymen, and whenever his time wasn't occupied by drills, patrols, and brief terrifying skirmishes, he would hang around the Magitek specialists at camp and offer to run errands, or help with simple tasks. He demonstrated some aptitude for machinery, and by the time he was 16 a senior technician took pity on him and had him reassigned to be his personal assistant/apprentice. He turned out to have a substantial gift for machinery, and learned rapidly. (This is where he picked up the rudiments of the Machinist fighting style, although it wouldn't fully evolve until he met Stephanivien in Ishgard years later.)
He was 18 when the Bozja Incident occurred, and his survival may have been the first indication of Hydaelyn's Blessing. In fact that's probably where he awoke the Echo, seeing the blazing fragments of crystal streaking from the sky and having it trigger his memories of the fall of Amaurot. His unit was out testing artillery some distance from the citadel when the explosion occurred, and when Siege awoke, he was alone in a smoldering crater.
Circumstances seemed dire enough that he assumed correctly that no one would come looking for him if he ran. He fled for the coast, where he earned passage on a series of fishing boats and cargo vessels, trading general handyman and heavy laborer skills and picking up enough of a relevant seafaring skillset along the way that by the time he arrived in Eorzea, he had some genuine skill as a sailor. He also continued to hone his lance skills either harpooning fresh fish, defending his vessels from pirates, or engaging in the piracy himself if that was the kind of boat he found himself on. He wasn't picky about what kind of crews he accepted work from.
Once ashore, Siege visited Ul'dah first, but found no one that he knew among the refugee community, as well as very few jobs for a spearman and sailor. He could have found work using his magitek repair skills no doubt, but he worried that that would have exposed him to awkward questions about where he learned them, so he decided to move on after scraping together barely enough coin to cover travel to Vylbrand.
And finally, utterly broke and with nothing but a rusty old harpoon and the clothes on his back, he arrived in the city of Limsa Lominsa. There, he took any kind of work he could on ships that were hiring big strong fellas, and gradually built up a network of contacts he felt comfortable enough with to do some magitek-related work for as well. He's been in Limsa a little over ten years at the start of A Realm Reborn, somewhere in his early 30's now, and has spent far more time as a Pirate than not, although he's mostly managed to stay on the safe side of the Admiral's edict about only plundering enemy ships.
The Seventh Umbral Calamity set him way back though, killed a lot of his friends, sank a lot of ships where he could get work, and left him and a lot of sailors like him with no real prospects. Which was why he was vulnerable to the Serpent Reavers when they came recruiting. They didn't identify themselves as Leviathan's servants outright, they always passed themselves off as just another crew of buccaneers, but this one was always hiring! And Siege, desperate and broke once again, didn't take as much time as he usually would have to ensure that they were the right kind of pirates.
I figure the various primal-summoning tribes probably had the ability to conjure their gods just long enough to Temper a new batch of recruits, but researchers like the Scions of the Seventh Dawn would only notice massive aether shifts if the primal was manifest using enough crystals to sustain the initial reaction and let it stabilize. So the Sahagin and Serpent Reavers were probably tempering new recruits regularly long before the storyline where the WoL actually fights Leviathan.
And that's how Siege found out about the other aspect of Hydaelyn's Gift.
Dragged off his ship into a damp, reeking cavern, face still stinging from the vivid blue tattoos, shocked when the sailors who seemed so jovial when they hired him turned suddenly cruel and vicious, he found himself and dozens of other recruits staring up at the Lord of the Whorl, if only a temporary manifestation thereof. But while the others found their free will suppressed by the experience, Siege felt no such compulsion. He was at least clever enough to recognize what was going on with the others and fake it himself though. His skills got him a position repairing and operating canons on a Serpent Reaver ship, and his first voyage out with a tempered crew, he decided to take a page from his escape of Bozja by sabotaging the powder room and creating an explosion big enough that no one would think to look for a missing crew member.
He swam to shore as the ship burned behind him, and as soon as he snuck back to the parts of Vylbrand that weren't crawling with Sahagin he reported everything he'd seen to the local Maelstrom outpost. And of course, when Admiral Merlwyb read the report about a peculiar individual who seemed resistant to tempering, she passed Siege's name to her friends in the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, leading to the point where my backstory and the official storyline finally sync up, and Y'shtola started keeping an eye out for Siege while she was roaming the island taking readings.
His other canon jobs came at later points in the Main Story Quest: DRAGOON - He elevated Lancer to Dragoon more thanks to Midgardsormr's influence than that of the Eyes of Nidhogg, but other than that I treat the Dragoon Job Quests as canon for his run. MACHINIST - He knew his way around firearms and machinery well enough, but merged it all into the actual Machinist fighting style thanks to Stephanivien's training after arriving in Ishgard. The Machinist Job Quests are also canon for his run.
RED MAGE - Siege had complicated personal feelings about the Fists of Rhalgr due to their involvement in destabilizing Ala Mhigo before the Garlean invasion, but was curious about learning other fighting styles native to his homeland, and when he met X'rhun Tia he jumped at the chance, making the Red Mage job quests also part of his canon story.
GUNBREAKER - Although he wielded a stolen Garlean Officer's gunblade for a time after going AWOL, he didn't learn the Bozjan style of gunblade fighting until returning there to aid in the liberation of that region, and atone for his time as an (unwilling) occupier. This is also the combat style he took to the First, treating the use of aether cartridges as an extension of his Red Magic training to avoid disturbing his internal aether reserves too much, due to concern over the upsetting the volatile Lightwarden aether he was containing. Regardless, his chance encounter with Radovan is what convinced him to pledge himself to the Bozjan Resistance, so the Gunbreaker Job Quests are also canon to his run.
SAGE - A synthesis of what he's learned before, both in terms of combat styles, and in terms of his experiences on the First teaching him how to safely channel a vast surfeit of Light-aspected Aether. And also a reflection of his desire, here at the end of this story, to bring Healing to the world rather than more devastation. The progression of DPS -> DPS - DPS -> Tank -> Healer seems to reflect some maturation of his views on his place in the world, I think. If his style of Gunbreaker fighting drew in part on his Red Mage swordplay training, Sage represents a further refinement, but in this case fixated on the Red Mage's Focus (which serves as a prototype for the Nuoliths) rather than on the Blade. I'm still pondering how to integrate the Sage quests into his story.
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ratvich · 2 years
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fuck everything lol .
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imightbeatomato · 21 days
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Tried to study. Got a headache. Had a nap. Vividly dreamt that I was studying. Dreamt up a fantastic history documentary about people and places that didn't exist. Took me a couple minutes after I woke up to realize that the documentary wasn't real. Pretty bummed out tbh
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safirefire · 5 months
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The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes was an excellent movie adaptation plot wise. It also solidified to me 2 reasons why Snow knew Katniss was such a threat beyond the basics and they were that
He recognized Haymitch as a mentor rewarding romantic behavior within the arena with sponsored gifts because a) it was his idea and b) before the drone system was perfected he saw how mentors themselves could technically follow rules while influencing the games and
He noticed how much sympathy and connection the Capitol citizens could form with the Tributes from all the nurses crying at Lucy Gray’s “last performance” to his entire class chanting to get her out of the arena which forced someone as influential as Dr. Gaul to listen
Snow’s not an idiot he knows Katniss herself held very little power at least at the beginning. But he instantly recognized how her story could be marketed and used to turn both District and Capitol citizens against him especially by people like Haymitch or Coin who knew what they were doing
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rafesmuse · 6 months
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after dark — r.c.
pairing: ghostface!rafe cameron x fem!reader
warnings: smut 18+, unprotected sex, dubcon, violence, blood, murder, knife play, mask kink, hair pulling, spanking, cursing, toxic, controlling, manipulative and possessive behaviour, oral sex (m. receiving), fingering, creampie, degradation, face slapping, dacryphilia, breeding kink
word count: 4.5k
summary: the bloodlust killer that has been terrorising the town could be closer to you than you might think.
moodboard // nav. // m.list // taglist
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“Rafe?” you called out to your boyfriend who was attentively watching the TV from beside you on the couch, a deep sense of unease and concern in your voice. “Yeah, baby?” he replied, his eyes still glued to the screen as his warm hand moved to your thigh, giving it a squeeze to let you know that he was listening. “I’m… I’m scared” you murmured with your brows knitted, referring to the news report about a killer being on the loose, terrorising the entire town for weeks now. They played footage taken from a Ring doorbell camera that showed him wearing a black and white mask, identical to the one from the Scream movies to hide his identity, along with a full black outfit.
So far, there has been an estimated five victims, all of them male. Men between the ages of nineteen and twenty-six who are university students were the killer's primary target, it seemed. You were familiar with all of them— you had worked on group projects with a number of these people and even tutored two of them, helping them with subjects that you excelled at to earn some extra cash. To sum up, you saw all of the murdered male students regularly. Fear prickled over your skin as the reporter revealed more shocking details about the murders.
Rafe turned to face you, an empathetic smile swept across his handsome face as he moved closer to you, the palm of his warm hand resting on your cheek as he looked at you with his sparkling blue eyes. “Don’t be scared baby. You know I’ll take care of you, alright? I won’t ever let anything happen to my sweet girl” You fidgeted with your hands and looked down, letting his words sink in. Rafe always took care of you, ensuring that you were happy and healthy— he’d do anything for you. For the first time ever, though, you were unsure if Rafe could truly protect you from a bloodlust killer who has murdered men even bigger, stronger and more athletic than Rafe.
He looked off into the distance, thinking deeply as he released a hesitating breath, “Look, why don’t you stay with me here? Hmm? It’s too dangerous out there for a pretty girl like you. You’ll be safe here, I promise” you met his eyes again and nodded, feeling relieved that you can be with him every minute of the day.
Every minute of the day, that is, unless you were in class, because school life didn’t pause. Why it didn’t was a mystery to you, but the police stated that they had everything under control, which you found hard to believe. It made you feel anxious to be distanced from Rafe during those times. You not only feared for yourself, but for him as well. It became impossible to concentrate in class. Knowing that anyone could become the next victim sent your mind into overdrive. No one was safe.
You took your phone out of your pocket and opened iMessage, scrolling through your conversations before tapping your and Rafe’s. You occasionally glanced up quickly to make sure the teacher wasn't watching you before typing a message.
You: I miss you so much :( Are you okay?
Rafe 💞: Miss you more, my pretty girl. I’m alright, just hanging out with Top.  
His words still made you blush, your cheeks heating up as a tiny smile formed on your face before you quickly looked up, checking if anyone saw you texting. The teacher is lost in her own world, going over theories while you see several other students on their phones as well, evidently bored by the contents of the class. You returned your focus to your phone and started typing a new message.
You: Be careful, okay? I’m scared…
Rafe 💞: Baby, I won’t let anything happen to you, got it? You know I have your location on my phone. I will keep an eye on you. Buy yourself some pretty lingerie and I will help you relax when you get home ;)
Rafe Cameron transferred $500 to your bank account.
Your eyes grew wide before you let out a chuckle at how easily he gives you money when you don’t even need it. You hastily typed a ‘thank you’ message and slipped your phone back into your pocket with a giddy smile on your face before the teacher could notice you.
When class finally ended for the day, you felt a wave of relief, especially since John B, one of your friends, offered to walk you home—well, to Rafe's house. You and John B used to be closer, hanging out multiple times a week, but Rafe’s possessive and jealous nature doesn’t allow you to anymore. Even though you don’t hang out with him now, he still checks in on you from time to time, showing you that he still cares about you, which you appreciate a lot. When you first started dating, John B openly expressed his dislike for Rafe. Despite your numerous attempts to convince him that Rafe genuinely does take great care of you, John B couldn’t be convinced. Their animosity towards one another runs too deep.
The two of you were walking side to side as you approached Rafe's street, wandering by large villas with breathtaking front gardens. John B didn't appear in the least bit afraid or worried and you couldn’t understand why. Everyone, including yourself, was terrified, not daring to go outside unless needed. You eyed him with confusion as you were thinking it over, which he seemed to catch on right away. “What? Do I have something on my face?” he asked, a smile appearing on his face as he continued walking. “Are you not scared, John B?” You asked with curiosity. A small chuckle left his mouth before he shook his head, “Scared? Have you seen him? He wears a silly costume from some dumb movie.” It went silent for a while as you were at a loss for words, wondering how someone could not be afraid of a murderer.
John B soon ended the silence before you could go further into the topic, “Hey, remember when we rehearsed for that play? And we had to dance together and you-“ he laughs while holding his stomach, pausing for a moment to collect himself before continuing, “and you fell and ripped your clothes?” You felt your face heat up and an embarrassed smile crossed your lips before you hit him in the arm. Those were the memories you did not want to relive, embarrassing yourself in front of numerous students and staff members. “Oh stop it! First of all, it wasn’t even that funny and secondly, completely your fault, by the way” You responded, defending yourself but unable to hide your laughter.
“It went like this” John B said before he lifted you up and spun you around, causing you to scream and laugh hysterically. “Stop! I-“ you tried to yell at him but you were laughing too hard, your abdominal muscles hurting. You two giggled as he gently set you back down on the ground before you turned your gaze towards Rafe’s house and your face dropped instantly. Rafe was waiting for you, leaning against the doorframe and standing with his arms crossed, a stern expression on his face as he looked at you both.
You swallowed and gathered yourself quickly before putting on a forced smile and turning to face John B. But John B was staring back at Rafe with an equally as intimidating look on his face, so much so that he stopped noticing you. “Thank you for taking me home. I appreciate it” you said, attempting to defuse the tension before moving slowly in Rafe's direction— but both their eyes didn’t leave each other for a second. Every muscle in your body tightened and the tension in the air was apparent.
You walked up to Rafe, ascending the stairs to his enormous home's front door. “H-hi baby, missed you” you spoke as you drew nearer to him, a whiff of his signature cologne filling your nose. You looked back at John B and saw him heading to his own home, thankfully. Rafe rolled his eyes before he turned around and made his way inside the house. As you nervously followed him and silently shut the door behind you, your brows pinched in concern.
“Baby?” you whispered, trailing after Rafe into the house as you watched his back, his muscles prominent through the tight shirt he was wearing. “Are you angry at me?” You asked in a low voice, worried about the answer. He turned around and came up to you, his large hands cupping your face as he stared directly into your eyes. “I could never be angry at you, sweet girl. You’re my everything. Don’t ever forget that, alright?” he said before you nodded, a wave of relief instantly washing over you. He kissed you on the forehead and you closed your eyes to take in the moment, feeling lucky to have such a caring and sweet boyfriend, you thought. But then the night fell.
“Fuck! No, no, no!” A terrible nightmare about the killer had you breathing heavily when you woke up in the middle of the night. You immediately sat up straight, your chest heaving up and down as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. “Rafe?” You called out, desperate for his comfort and affection.
After a short while, there was still no response. Still feeling a little disoriented, your brows knitted as you attempted to sort through your thoughts. But something felt off. You extended your arm around the bed but there was nothing but pillows next to you. This is when you started to feel a little panicked and horrible thoughts pierced your mind like needles jabbing at your skin. “Rafe?!” you called out again in fear, a little louder this time with still no response. You hastily turned on the light, a perplexed frown appearing on your face. The bed was empty. Rafe was usually a very deep sleeper so waking up in the middle of the night wasn’t anything like him. You pushed the blanket off of yourself and stood up, turning off the light again before carefully leaving the room to investigate the situation.
The only sound you could hear as you wandered around his house was the clock ticking as you made your way to the stairs, slowly walking down. His enormous house was terrifying at night, your trembling, sweaty hand gripping the railing tightly. You gasped at hearing heavy footsteps coming from the kitchen downstairs. Tears started forming in your eyes, afraid that anything had happened to Rafe. Scenarios played in your head of the killer entering the house and taking Rafe, torturing him or even worse, murdering him.
When you got to the bottom of the stairs, you took your time making your way to the kitchen while holding your breath. The footsteps became louder now as you approached the person. You were so scared and worried about what you might find behind the wall that tears were streaming down your face. You approached the kitchen cautiously and peeked inside. It took you a few blinks to get used to the darkness, but you exhaled deeply in relief when you saw Rafe in the kitchen, unharmed. Thank god. You reasoned that he must have gotten hungry or wanted to grab a glass of water. You hurried into the kitchen to hug him tight and take him back into bed immediately.
“Rafe? Baby? I saw you weren’t in bed so I-“ you began, feeling relieved to see your boyfriend standing in front of you before your jaw fell as you stood there, unblinking, trying to process what you were seeing. “Rafe…” You gulped and stared in horror, taking in the black and white mask he was holding in addition to the fresh blood on his body. You blinked a few times, thinking you must be still in a dream, but that wasn’t the case— Rafe was still standing in front of you, equally as shocked before he slowly approached you.
“I can explain” He whispered softly, wary of what to say. His expression showed panic as he hurriedly placed the mask down on the table. “Okay, okay, it’s all good. We got this” he mumbled to himself as he rubbed his temples, letting out a frustrating moan. Fear coursed through your body as you stood there motionless and terrified. “Baby, listen, alright? Sometimes-“ he began, pacing around the kitchen at this point, “Sometimes things just gotta happen. We don’t always have a choice, got that? And- and, I just gotta protect you- gotta protect you from all those bad men who wanna take you away.” Your legs felt weak and all kinds of emotions shot through your body. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t do anything. Your breathing quickened as Rafe continued his ramblings. “I just- I just can’t let that happen, alright? You’re my sweet and innocent girl. I can’t let anyone take you from me, never.”
Your trembling hand moved to your mouth and your eyes grew wide when it finally clicked whose blood it was on Rafe. “Rafe? Is that…” you gulped, secretly hoping you were wrong. “Is that John B’s blood?” he turned around quickly and locked eyes with you. “Baby, you know I didn’t have a choice, okay? I had to do it. I need to protect you, protect you from all the evil in this world” He said, trying his best to convince you. You blinked a few times, tears streaming down your face as you tried to comprehend what had just happened. Everything was difficult for you, your head hurting. But you loved Rafe. He was everything to you. He took care of you. He looked after you. In the end, he was the one who was always there for you no matter what. You needed him. You wiped the tears from your face using your shirt's sleeve and glanced back at him, nodding. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, and you could see the relief immediately wash over him.
“But…“ Your heart was pounding out of your chest and your mind was racing with a gazillion thoughts. “But what if anyone saw you?” Taking the mask off the table, Rafe covered his head with it. “That’s what this is for” he said, his voice muffled by the mask. You looked him up and down, examining every inch of him, from the ghostface mask to his blood-covered body, the muscles emphasised by his tight outfit. Fuck. You felt something happening inside of you. It wasn't worry or fear— it was something else. Rafe’s masked head tilted as he stared at you, trying to read your expression.
“Wait a minute…” he began, moving closer, “I know that look” Rafe chuckled and he approached you slowly as you took a step back with each step he took forward before your lower back hit the kitchen counter. His face came closer to yours as your breath hitched. He reached over to the kitchen counter beside you, grabbing the knife from next to you and putting it under your chin to lift your head up. “You dirty fucking slut. I see what’s happening here” His face drew nearer, whispering into your ear, “you’re turned on by this.”
“W-What?” you said, trying to sound confused but you couldn’t deny it, you knew he was right. The pointy end of the knife slightly dug into your skin. Instead of feeling scared, you could feel your core aching for him. “Don’t act stupid. God, you’re even more fucked up in that little head of yours than I thought” Rafe chuckled before he took the knife from under your chin and slipped both hands under your ass, hauling you up quickly and tossing you over his shoulder with ease while holding the knife in his hand. You let out a small squeal before he walked you both towards the bedroom.
“Tonight, I’m gonna have to show you who the fuck you belong to.” Rafe stated in a low voice through his mask, causing you to feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. You felt ashamed, as well as a horrible person. Your skin was stained with blood at this point— John B’s blood. But as much as he was your friend, Rafe was your boyfriend, your caregiver, your everything. And you started to think that maybe… maybe he was right. Maybe you need someone to protect you, to keep the bad men away. Maybe Rafe saw something in John B that you didn’t— in the end, you knew Rafe only ever wanted the best for you. You both loved each other forever and always, and apparently, that went as far as killing for you.
Rafe threw you onto the bed after pushing open the door to his bedroom and shutting it behind him. You slightly bounced on the bed before you turned around, resting on your elbows as you looked at him with big, innocent eyes. He stood in front of you, his arms folded and the moonlight seeping through the cracks of the blinds, illuminating your boyfriend’s menacing demeanour— the blood-stained black and white mask, a knife gripped in his right hand, and the slightly torn black outfit, indicating that John B tried to fight for his life. The only features of your boyfriend’s face visible were his blue eyes, gazing directly at you.
“You’re gonna be a good girl and listen to me, alright?” he said, with a harsh and intimidating tone. You nodded as you swallowed, anticipation raging through your body. He slightly tilted his masked head, thinking about what he was going do with you till an idea struck. He approached you slowly, footsteps heavy due to his boots. His right hand played with the knife, showing that he had plans with it. He leaned over you when he was close enough, then slid the knife under your shirt. Gazing at him with wide eyes, you gasped as he quickly tore apart your clothes, leaving you only in your bra and underwear.
“Prettiest fucking girl I have ever seen. Fuck, I am so lucky.” He now placed the knife under the straps of your bra and sliced it open, then he did the same to your underwear and tossed it aside. You let out a small whine, and he turned to face you immediately. “That… that was my favourite set” You sulked as you gazed at the shredded lingerie set lying on the floor. Rafe simply chuckled before he gripped your face forcefully, turning you to look at him. “Don’t be fucking dumb, you know I can buy you every single lingerie set that you want in the whole fucking world.”
Before you could say anything else, he grabbed your body and turned you around, placing you on your hands and knees with your ass facing him. You were soaking at this point, your wetness dripping onto the mattress. You suddenly felt the cold knife against your core, gathering the wetness as you shivered and tried to remain motionless. “Jesus fucking Christ, you’re dripping. You could’ve just told me you had some fucked up kink for killers, you know. Would’ve made it a lot easier for me” Rafe taunted, and you just knew he was smirking under that mask.
“Grip the sheets baby, maybe even bite them if you need to. Dunno how high your pain tolerance is.” he said, causing you to worry for a moment as your hands clutched the sheets under you. “But I guess we’re about to find out.” He slapped your ass swiftly before you felt the sharp knife against the skin of your ass, digging into the flesh. Your eyes closed and your teeth clenched together as you hissed at the sensation.
“R… A…” he began, as he carved his name into your skin. “It- it hurts” you cried out as you gripped the sheets. “Nuh-uh, not done yet. F…” he continued, unaffected by your whines and pleads. “E…” When he was done, he stood back to admire his work of art. “All done. Looks pretty good if I say so myself.” he said with a satisfied tone. Your eyes began to well up with tears as a result of the stinging in your skin. “All fucking mine.” He said before throwing the knife on the ground.
 “On your knees in front of me. Now” he ordered, and you didn’t waste a second before you were sitting on your knees on the ground, gazing up at him through your eyelashes. His gloved hand brushed over your face before gripping your chin, “You are nothing but my dirty whore. Got that? My property. And I will kill anyone that gets in the way.” You nodded, feeling desperate for him. He undressed himself, leaving him completely naked except for the mask on his face. You observed him— the muscles on his toned body, the blood splatters, his hard cock leaking precum. You needed him.
“Make yourself useful for once” he growled, before slapping your cheek and causing you to hiss. “Suck.” was all he said as he grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you towards him. You started by swirling your tongue over the tip and around the length of his shaft, causing him to throw his head back and grunt. He became impatient quickly, as he pushed your head further down, his cock hitting the back of your throat. “Juuust like that, princess, doing so good for me.”You were momentarily taken aback by his sweet words, but you weren’t unfamiliar with his mood swings. You knew what to do to get him to praise you— being a good girl and doing what he says, at all times. You never wanted to disagree with Rafe or reject him. You'd go to any lengths for him.
“Holy fuck” he growled as you continued bobbing your head, saliva running down your face. He had a strong grip on your hair as he fucked your face while you held on to his thighs. He let out a grunt before shoving you off him right before he could cum, sending you stumbling backwards a little. He gestured with his head for you to get back on the bed as he grabbed the knife from the ground. You hurriedly returned to the bed and waited for him on your hands and knees before he positioned himself behind you. He then slapped your ass, making you cry out as the cuts from earlier made it sting even more.
“Aww, does that hurt, princess?” he asked, running a hand over the spot he had just slapped as you nodded, trying to hold back the tears that were starting to well up in your eyes. “But my girl can handle that, right?” he said as he teased your core with his fingers. “My girl can handle anything, as long as she got me.” he unexpectedly slipped a finger into you, causing you to moan out at the feeling. He moved in and out before adding another one, pushing his fingers knuckles deep into you. You arched your back as he curled his fingers and moved them against your g-sport skilfully. Rafe was amazing at fingering, making you squirt and cum countless times. But he quickly pulled out before you could even feel your release nearing, causing you to whine. “I know baby, I know. But I need you to cum around my cock, alright?”
He grabbed your hips and positioned himself at your entrance before he pushed into you in one quick thrust without any warning. You gasped as he buried himself into you balls deep. “Always so fucking tight. Fuuuck” Rafe groaned as he watched his cock disappear into your body. He wasted no time by thrusting in and out of you right away as he stretched you out completely. You felt a hint of pain but it was soon overpowered by pleasure. He set a steady and rough rhythm, massaging your walls perfectly.
“You’re gonna be mine forever, got that? No one will ever get to touch you.” he said as he gripped a handful of your hair and yanked your head towards him. He took the knife from beside him, but you were too cock-drunk to even notice it while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You unexpectedly felt the icy blade against your throat, causing you to gasp. “Don’t. Fucking. Move.” he whispered into your ear, his voice muffled because of the mask as he continued his brutal thrusts along with the sharp knife against your throat. You felt your release building as your wetness trickled down the sides of your thigh. His cock felt so deep inside of you, hitting your g-spot repeatedly.
“Gonna cum so fucking deep inside of you, sweet girl, you’re gonna be leaking my cum for days.” he growled with one hand firmly gripping your hip and the other holding the knife. “Even better if a baby starts growing in that pretty body of yours, so I can fully claim you as mine.” His words made you even more aroused and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release. “I’m c-close” was all you could manage to say as you heard him groan from under the mask.
“Cum for me. Cum all over my cock like the dirty slut you are” his words were enough to push you over the edge as your orgasm washed over you, causing you to see stars and your body to shake. You cried out with your mouth agape as you clenched around his cock. “Good fucking girl”
You could feel his hips stagger and lose rhythm, knowing he was close as well. One last powerful thrust and you could feel his warm cum painting your walls, milking every last drop of his seed inside of you. The grip on your hips tightened, nails digging into your skin as he rode out his high. “Fuck, fuck, fuck” he cursed while panting. You collapsed onto the bed, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. You attempted to get up but rafe quickly stopped you, gazing at you through the mask.
“Oh, we’re not done yet.” he chuckled, before flipping you onto your back and caging you between his arms, “Round two, princess.”
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ew-selfish-art · 8 months
Text
DpxDc AU: Justice League requires all of its youngest members to list at least one adult emergency contact in case something happens out in the field- And Lancer did tell Danny to put his number down if he needed help!
Lancer wanted to call CPS, wanted to call them for years, but something was wrong with his beloved town and the government agents that came were always… ill mannered. To say the least. So with the young Mr.Fenton appearing wounded in his class on multiple occasions, sleeping through lectures even more often, Lancer felt himself gradually accept that no other adult was going to step up to protect this child.
He figures out his Identity as Phantom and it makes his rage boil hotter than Dante’s sixth layer of hell. Danny refuses to abandon his parents (who continue to hunt him unknowingly), and he refuses to let any of his ghostly responsibilities fall wayside (this CW fellow is a real piece of work!).
But for all the things he expected when he told Danny that he could be trusted and could help- Ms. Manson and Mr.Foley coming to him for help, patching wounds, offering snacks and covering for Danny when attacks occurred in class- he hadn’t expected the Justice League to be knocking on his door.
Lancer blinked at the appearance of Batman in his classroom after the final bell, but then his stomach dropped.
TELLTALE HEART THATS THE BATMAN!!
“Phantom listed you as his emergency contact. Have you had any recent communication with him?” The deep, gravel voice startled Lancer.
Lancer checks his phone, Danny had skipped class today; and while Lancer was working with Danny to get him after school lessons and tutoring for all of the hours he missed, it was uncommon for him not to respond at Lancer’s text asking for a confirmation of his safety.
“Not in 24 hours, but I can message him again.” Lancer is shaking as he types on his phone to team phantom-Who wouldn’t be nervous at both the implications of Danny’s safety and the Batman??
Superman flies into the room from the open doorway, “No luck, without a heartbeat I can’t find him. Where ever they have him it’s lead lined or he’s keeping himself invisible.”
SCARLET LETTER ITS SUPERMAN!?!
Danny doesn’t reply to Lancer, and neither do Danny’s friends.
“He has two team members with whom he is inseparable, if none of them are responding then all three have been accosted. I’m coming with you until we find them.” Lancer declares and while he’s sure that Batman is unimpressed, Superman gives him a sad smile and nods.
Thus Lancer joins the Justice League for a day, Helps to save Team Phantom and Informs the takedown of an illegal government agency.
Batman also slides him some adoption papers and a card for a lawyer if Lancer decides to formally adopt Danny. Lancer also wins a Wayne Excellence Award for Teaching that year but he’s pretty sure the money is unrelated to Danny’s alter ego- after all, Lancer is a fantastic teacher.
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thisisnotthenerd · 9 days
Text
ok but all the bad kids were so strategic and effective in the last stand. i know gorgug's crits and fig's spells were huge but everyone really played to the best of their class. look here for the questions and killing blows.
adaine's spell usage was super effective--the mephits granting advantage and blinding opponents. the scatter to get the melee fighters where they're the most effective. using mirror image and her bonus action divination cantrips to not get hit. the use of the portents was excellent--keeping gorgug from taking huge damage from the purple worm and allowing fig to crit on the wyvern enhanced both of their strategy immensely. she split the difference between damage and utility very well.
kristen's bless let the melee attacks hit when they would have missed and she held that concentration the entire time, while intermittently healing and reducing the number of enemies they had to face (skeletons & manticore) and getting out of the way where she wouldn't be targeted. if she hadn't been moved to the side by buddy no one would have caught kipperlilly. absolutely critical support casting. ally really took a lot from playing margaret and applied it here.
fig, despite feeling insecure about her melee attacks, did a ton with her melee cantrip/smite combos (insane) and ambient spirit guardians. by moving around the battlefield strategically and drawing attention as the fake proctor she dealt with the smaller enemies (jellies, stirges, rust monsters, mimic) and actively took down the shrimp dragon, wyvern, and pentacorn.
riz went the other direction; hiding and using the extra action from haste to get sneak attack multiple times in the round. his sneak attacks really served to whittle away at high hp counts when the bad kids had to split focus. plus the clutch defeat of the roper and umber hulk was excellent.
fabian wasn't critting as often as gorgug, but he followed a similar strategy to fig; where she drew attention and killed enemies with AOE and melee, fabian drew attention from single combatants and dealt with them effectively: he practically soloed the hydra and roper with assistance from riz and kept the umber hulk and crab man off of his allies as the final wave converged.
gorgug thistlespring. the crit king. initially he was doing big damage in a similar strategy to riz; he got huge hits on the gorgon and shrimp dragon before taking on by far the most challenging enemy, the purple worm, with assistance from adaine's attack spells. two full turns as the only combatant taking damage from the worm, while knocking it prone every single turn.
this was the battle of the brands for the bad kids, scaled for level 13 combatants. they put everything into this fight.
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writingworlds · 3 months
Text
𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐄
Pairing(s): Charles Leclerc x Porsche!reader
Summary: The Porsche Princess, that nickname has followed Y/N around since birth. And who better for a princess than a prince?
Warning(s): shitty Google translate
yn_porsche
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liked by milaaa, porsche, mickschumacher, and others
yn_porsche Essen und Freunde 🤍
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milaaa Mach keine Witze, du liebst das Essen mehr als ich 😘
papaporsche meine Prinzessin
yn_porsche Ich liebe dich Papa ❤️❤️
mickschumacher and where was my invitation?
yn_porsche sorry Micky but it was a girls only event
username hello??? not mick attempting to shoot his shot 😭😭
username girl I hate to break it to you but mick and y/n are only friends. They’ve known each other for years now
username day 673 of asking for Porsche to rejoin f1 permanently
milaaa 🤭🤭🤭
username milaaa WHAT DO YOU KNOW
milaaa oh nothing at all 🤭
yn_porsche 🫣🫣🫣
username y/n drop the pie recipe because it looks delicious
username y/n drop the makeup routine because you are gorgeous
username well that too
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f1
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liked by porscheagracing, yn_porsche, papaporsche, and others
f1 Welcome to the paddock porscheagracing!
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porscheagracing Excited to be here!
username JSHSHD OMG
username RACING ROYALTY IS BACK BABY
username ….wait…does this mean we will be able to see THE Y/N Porsche in the paddock
yn_porsche no promises but I do hope to make it to at least one Grand Prix!! Most likely the German one 😉
username DOES THIS MEAN THAT HOCKENHEIMRING IS RETURNING TOO
username THE RUMOURS WERE TRUE
username 11 teams f1 is so back
username I CANT WAIT
porscheagracing
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porscheagracing Get to know us!
Who We Are: Originally founded in 1931 by Ferdinand Porsche, Porsche was meant to represent excellence, luxury, and class.
Our story starts with the creation of our first sports car, the 356, to our unveiling of the legendary 911. But those are simply designs of luxury sports cars, they do not encapsulate our rich heritage of motorsport.
We have dominated various endurance championships, most notably being the 24 Hours of Le Mans. It is time, however, to take that dominance to open wheel and Grand Prix racing.
What We Do: We will be competing in Formula One starting from the 2025 season. Our goal is to bring a sense of rejuvenation back to the world of Formula One (and of course take a few world championships while we are at it).
Our team: Holding the words power, precision, and performance in mind we created a team of uniquely qualified individuals to make sure we excel in all aspects.
- CEO: Henrik Porsche
- Team Principal: Sebastian Vettel
- Technical Director: Julia Wagner
- Chief Aerodynamicist: Karl Becker
- Chief Mechanic: Michael Braun
- Strategy Coordinator: Lisa Fischer
Information on our drivers will be released shortly.
Wagen Sie es, sich von Träumen mitreißen zu lassen.
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username is that Sebastian Vettel I see???
username try as he might he can’t escape motorsport 😭😭😭
mickschumacher 🖤❤️💛
yn_porsche F1 BABY
username please please please let Mick Schumacher be one of the drivers
username if his hearts mean anything you might be in luck
username maybe I’m just dumb but did anyone else just realise that the Porsche team colours are the same as the German flag 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️
username it’s not just you I promise 😭😭
username any predictions on how good they’ll be? Cause I’m thinking they’ll start as a midfield car this year and then very quickly work their way up to the top
username i agree, they had Vettel on board as TP so he’ll give them plenty of experience in that regard but otherwise it will probably take them a bit of time to get used to f1 itself. once they do however….the rest of the grid best be prepared
username honestly i just can’t wait till they gain major sponsorship deals
username from twitter i heard they may have deals from Apple, Hermès, and of course Volkswagen
porscheagracing
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liked by arthur_leclerc, mickschumacher, yn_porsche, and others
porscheagracing Please give a warm welcome to your drivers for the 2025 season arthur_leclerc and mickschumacher
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mickschumacher Lass uns gehen Porsche 🖤❤️💛
arthur_leclerc Thank you so much for this opportunity
charles_leclerc Congratulations little bro, f1!!!
username THE LECLERC BROTHERS IN F1 IM GONNA CRY
username NO BECAUSE IM SO PROUD LIKE THESE ARE MY CHILDREN
yn_porsche Zeit, Rennen zu fahren 🫡🫡
arthur_leclerc I am going to pretend I understand what you are saying
yn_porsche someone is going to need to teach you German
milaaa I volunteer as tribute 🫡🫡
yn_porsche ah yes because you are known for your brilliant teaching strategies
milaaa shush
papaporsche Welcome to the team you two! Here’s to an incredible first season in Formula 1
mickschumacher Wir lassen Sie nicht im Stich, Chef
arthur_leclerc Gonna make Porsche proud
sebastianvettel Pleasure to be working with you both 😊
username plsssss he’s such a dad
username and we love him for it
username oh for sure
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Charles Leclerc
alors... Y/N Porsche
Arthur Leclerc
frérot c'est quoi ce bordel
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sadnymi · 1 month
Text
「 ✦ cloud nine. ✦ 」
Mattheo riddle x reader [part2]
Summary: The "jinx girl," as they call her, is said to bring bad luck. However, when Mattheo Riddle decides to get to know the school's most neglected girl and takes matters into his own hands, Y/N's life is turned upside down in a mere night.
Warnings:fluff,smut, angst
Words: 11.2k
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The whispers followed me like a shroud, a constant murmur that swirled around the edges of my existence. "The jinx girl ," they hissed, punctuated by snickers and pointed fingers. Bad luck, they believed, clung to me like a second skin, a misfortune I carried wherever I went.
Hogwarts, a place that promised magic and wonder, had become a labyrinth of avoidance. Empty seats flanked me in Potions, desks strategically moved away in Charms, and hushed conversations abruptly stopped when I entered the room. I was a pariah, a freak, the girl who supposedly brought misfortune upon anyone who dared come close.
Every dropped potion, every sprained ankle, every lost Quidditch match - all blamed on me, Y/N Y/L/N, the harbinger of bad luck. Hogwarts, once a dream, had become a prison. Even the ghosts seemed to cower at my presence.
Professor Flitwick, a whirlwind of energy and charm despite his diminutive stature, announced a project for our Charms class.
"Partnering up for a Conjuring Extravaganza!" he squeaked, his voice a high-pitched melody. "Showcase your enchanting skills with a partner of your choosing!"
The room erupted in excited chatter, students scrambling to find their partners. I, however, remained rooted to the spot, a familiar ache twisting in my gut. Who would want to pair up with the cursed child? As if sensing my despair, Professor Flitwick's bright blue eyes twinkled in my direction.
"Don't worry, Miss Y/L/N," he chirped, "there's always a perfect match for everyone!"
His words offered little comfort. The pairings continued, each giggling duo a stark reminder of my isolation. Just when I resigned myself to another solo project, a voice cut through the din.
"I'll pair with Y/L/N ."
The classroom fell silent. Heads swiveled in unison, disbelief etched on their faces. It was Mattheo Riddle, the Slytherin prince with a reputation as sharp as his intellect .
Professor Flitwick, however, beamed like a firework had gone off in his tiny fist. "Excellent choice, Mr. Riddle!"
My jaw dropped. Mattheo Riddle? Partnering with me ? the jinxing girl ? It was as unexpected as a dragon hatching a pixie. A ripple of surprised murmurs coursed through the class. Did he just volunteer? Was this a cruel joke?
stole a glance at Mattheo, half expecting a smirk or a sly wink that would shatter the illusion of kindness.
But instead, he met my gaze with a genuine, albeit hesitant, smile. It was a rare sight on his usually stoic face, a flicker of warmth that sent a jolt through me. He sauntered over, his confident stride somehow softened as he approached me.
"Fancy working together, (Y/N)?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. It was the first time he'd ever addressed me directly, to talk to , and the informality sent a wave of heat rushing to my cheeks.
"I... I uh, sure," I stammered, still struggling to process the situation.
Professor Flitwick launched into the specifics of the project, outlining the different magical creatures we could try conjuring. Mattheo, however, seemed more interested in me. He leaned closer, his voice barely a whisper.
"So," he began, his eyes twinkling with amusement, "what kind of magic are you most comfortable with love ?"he said, pulling up a chair next to me.
My heart skipped a beat. No one had ever used that term – "love" – with me before. It was a small word, but in that moment, it felt like a lifeline thrown across the chasm of isolation.
A hesitant smile tugged at my lips. "I, uh, I'm actually quite good with summoning charms," I confessed, surprised by my own boldness.
His smile widened. "Excellent," he said, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. "I'm more of a transfiguration specialist. We could combine our strengths."
Combine our strengths? The thought of working alongside Mattheo, of learning from him and maybe even teaching him a thing or two myself, sent a thrill through me.
A comfortable silence settled between us as we delved into the project details. Professor Flitwick's lecture faded into background noise . Mattheo surprised me with his easygoing nature, his sharp intellect tempered with a dry wit that made me laugh, a sound that felt foreign escaping my lips.
Finally, Professor Flitwick called out the end of class. "Alright, class! Dismissed! Remember, be creative, be precise, and most importantly, have fun!"
My heart still hammered in my chest, a mixture of trepidation and a strange, exhilarating thrill. Mattheo gathered his books, and as he turned to leave, he caught my eye “ see you around Y/L/N “
The crisp autumn air sent a shiver down my spine as I settled onto the worn wooden bench in the school gardens. pulled out the book I burrowed from the library earlier , determined to bury myself in its intricacies and forget the entire debacle.
The rhythmic crunch of gravel on the path drew my attention. I glanced up, bracing myself for another encounter with Pansy and her posse, only to find Mattheo approaching. His expression was unreadable, a mix of curiosity and something I couldn't quite decipher.
He stopped a few steps away, a silent question hanging in the air. Surprised, I stammered, "M-Mattheo? What are you doing here?"
A hint of a smile played at the corners of his lips. "Mind if I join you?" he asked, his voice softer than I was accustomed to hearing from him.
My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Was this real? "I, uh, sure," I managed, gesturing to the empty space beside me.
He sat down, our shoulders brushing slightly. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken words. Stealing a glance at him, I noticed his gaze fixed on the book in my lap. "Studying for the Charms exam?"
I shook my head. "Actually, this is more of a personal read. It's about obscure magical creatures."
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh? Intriguing. Anything interesting?"
Hesitantly, I explained the book's exploration of Fae lore, their connection to emotions and the delicate balance they maintained with the human world.
To my surprise, Mattheo listened intently, occasionally asking insightful questions that sparked further discussion. We delved into the complexities of Fae magic, debated the ethics of human interaction with these mythical beings.
A playful glint flickered in his dark eyes, and a hint of a smile danced on his lips as he listened to my passionate explanation of Fae lore.
"Why – why are you smiling like that?" I asked hesitantly
"You just look so passionate about it," he explained, a genuine smile gracing his features.
"Actually, it’s totally my uncle fault he was the one who got me into it," I confessed, a fond smile playing on my lips. "He used to read me Fae tales before bed when I was young. Now here I am, analyzing their magical properties."
"Are you close with your uncle?" he asked, his voice gentle.
"Yeah, very close," I replied, then hesitated, a shadow crossing my face.
He picked up on the shift in my mood. "Everything okay?"
Taking a deep breath, I blurted out the question that had been gnawing at me since the library. "Why are you doing this, Mattheo? Is this a dare or something?"
He frowned, genuine confusion etched on his face. "Why would you say that?"
"You know," I rambled, gesturing at the empty garden around us. "Aren't you afraid?"
"Afraid of what?" He tilted his head, his dark eyes holding a hint of amusement.
My breath caught in my throat as he reached out, a playful glint in his eyes. He brushed a stray strand of hair from my face, sending shivers down my spine. "Me?" I whispered, barely a breath escaping my lips.
He smirked, amusement flickering across his face. "You look pretty cute to even scare a fly, love. Why should I be afraid of you?"
His words, laced with a hint of flirtation, left me speechless. His touch, light as a feather, lingered on my cheek, sending a jolt of electricity through me.
"You don't understand," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "Look at the garden, no one is here because I'm here. They believe... they believe —"
He cut me off before I could finish my frantic explanation. "But I'm here, aren't I, love?" he said, his voice a husky murmur. My heart pounded like a drum solo, the world around us seeming to fade away.
"You shouldn't be," I managed, my voice small and breathless. "I don't understand why."
"I'm not playing games with you, I promise," he replied, his voice firm. I hesitantly nodded, closing my eyes as the weight of his words settled upon me.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, a heavy sigh escaping my lips.
"Don't be," he said softly. "I understand. And you know what? I don't care what they say. And to be honest I don't even care if it was true..."
smiling , I looked up , meeting his gaze."So you're the first "
He leaned back, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "Let's just say," he began, his voice low and intriguing, "I know you weren't the reason Ronald broke his leg before the last Quidditch match."
A surprised laugh escaped my lips."And," he continued, his smile widening, "I also know that the explosion in Potions last year was entirely Harold's fault, not yours."
I burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the quiet garden. The weight of the whispers seemed to lift with each peal, replaced by a lightness I hadn't felt in years
"You were just there, like everybody else," he said, his voice tinged with amusement. "So why would you take the blame for that?"
He leaned forward, his face so close now that my laughter subsided, replaced by a nervous flutter in my chest. "You know what they say about what happened in first year," I began, voice barely above a whisper.
"It stays with you till your last," he finished the saying, his dark eyes holding mine. A grateful smile tugged at my lips.
"So when Charlie from down the street brought the rumors from our neighborhood to school, and then spread that story about me jinxing Seamus during his first Quidditch practice.. and let's just say Neville's unfortunate Gillyweed incident didn't help my case too so a that everybody seemed to believe it ," I explained, finally voicing the truth I hadn't thought anyone would ever be interested in hearing.
"That's not fair," Mattheo said, his voice firm.
"Yeah," I sighed, "but as my Nana always says, some children are born with tragedies in their hands." A bittersweet smile crossed my lips. "And by some children, she means me."
"She sounds like a cruel woman," he muttered.
I laughed, a touch brittle. "If you think my Nana is cruel, you should've met my mother then."
The words tumbled out before I could stop them, a confession I hadn't meant to share. My cheeks burned with a sudden, hot shame. Mattheo, however, didn't seem repulsed. In fact, his expression softened further.
My voice trailed off, the weight of the past suddenly overwhelming. Sharing a secret like that felt like opening a wound I'd painstakingly hidden for years. The air hung heavy with unspoken words, the setting sun casting long shadows across the quiet garden.
"I-I think I should get going," I stammered, pushing myself out of the chair, my resolve shaky at best.
A cool hand gripped my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. My breath hitched as I turned to face him , his gaze a storm of emotions swirling within its depths "Don't run away yet."
My cheeks burned even hotter, but I couldn't seem to tear my gaze away from his. "I'm not running," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper.
He didn't release my wrist. Instead, his grip softened, his thumb gently stroking a soothing circle against my skin. The simple touch sent a shiver down my spine, a stark contrast to the cold isolation I'd grown accustomed to.
"Then can I interest you in some Butterbeer tomorrow evening?" he asked, his voice laced with a playful charm. "Three Broomsticks, perhaps? We could continue our discussion about Fae magic, or maybe you could tell me more about your Nana and your… interesting family history."
A surprised laugh escaped my lips. The idea of spending another evening with Mattheo, outside the confines of a school project, sent a thrill through me.
A smile, genuine and unrestrained, bloomed on my face. "I'd like that," I replied, my voice a whisper against the backdrop of the settling evening.
Sleep that night was a distant dream. The events in the garden replayed in my mind on an endless loop. Mattheo's hand in mine, the warmth of his touch lingering like a phantom sensation, his unexpected concern for my story – it all sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
The morning sun filtering through my dormitory window found me wide awake, staring at the ceiling with a tangled mess of hair and a giddy smile plastered on my face.
But then came the most agonizing decision of the day – what to wear? My trunk overflowed with the usual witchy robes, all shades of black and grey. None seemed appropriate for a… date? Was it a date? My cheeks burned at the thought.
Finally, I settled on a compromise. A dark green skirt that swirled around my knees, a crisp black blouse , and my trusty black boots. It wasn't extravagant, but it felt… me.
The walk to the Three Broomsticks was a mess a disaster as I was trying to figure out the right direction . As I pushed open the creaky oak door,I tried to breathe and calm my self down, My eyes scanned the room, searching for Mattheo amidst the bustling patrons.
And then I saw him, tucked away in a corner booth, a solitary figure amidst the chatter and laughter. Relief washed over me, followed by a jolt of something warmer as our eyes met. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he gestured for me to join him.
My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I walked towards him, a self-conscious fluttering in my stomach. Reaching the table, I slid into the booth opposite him.
his gaze lingering a beat longer than necessary on my face. "you..," he finally said, a low whistle escaping his lips. "You look..." he trailed off, searching for the right word.
My cheeks flushed a rosy hue . "I look?"
A slow smile spread across his face. "Radiant," he finished, his voice a husky murmur.
My breath hitched. No one had ever used that word to describe me before. "Radiant?" I repeated, a nervous laugh escaping my lips.
"Absolutely," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Though, I have to say, for a second I thought you weren’t coming “
“ oh I’m so sorry I was just trying to find the way I, uh, I've never actually been to the Three Broomsticks before," I admitted, hoping to deflect from his unexpected compliment.
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Never? But it's practically a Hogwarts tradition!"
. "I guess I've been more focused on the library and…avoiding crowds."
A flicker of understanding crossed his face. "Well, consider this your official initiation," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Prepare to be overwhelmed by sticky tables, questionable singing."
The waitress returned with our drinks, placing them carefully on the table.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, momentarily shattering our peaceful bubble. A boisterous group of students, their laughter echoing through the room, flooded in. My stomach lurched as I recognized them – Charlie Spinnet , flanked by his usual entourage of Crabbe and Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson, her face twisted in a sneer.
Unlike the usual sneer of Pansy Parkinson, Charlie's expression was a confusing mix of anger and… was that a hint of disappointment ? He locked eyes with me, and for a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of something more complex in his gaze before it hardened back into a scowl.
Before I could decipher the meaning of it all, Pansy spotted us. Her voice, dripping with her usual malice, sliced through the warm bubble we'd created. "Look who is there," she drawled, directing a flirtatious smile towards Mattheo. "Hello there, Riddle."
Mattheo responded with his trademark icy drawl, "Parkinson. Always a pleasure."
She gave a curt nod before returning to her group. Charlie, however, didn't follow. His gaze remained fixed on me, an unsettling intensity in his eyes. I met his stare, a knot of unease forming in my gut.
"He's jealous," Mattheo said casually, leaning back in his seat. My jaw dropped.
"Jealous? Of what?" I stammered, completely bewildered.
"He likes you ," he replied with a knowing smirk.
A bewildered laugh escaped my lips. "He likes me ? Mattheo, the boy ruined my life" I interjected, my voice laced with a sharp edge. In truth, life hadn't been a cakewalk before Hogwarts either.
Just then, a loud shattering sound erupted from our table, sending shivers down my spine. My cup of butterbeer, which Charlie had probably targeted with a stray jinx spell , lay in pieces on the floor. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the pub as everyone turned to stare
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to control the spike of panic rising in my chest. This was exactly what I'd feared. when I opened my eyes again, my gaze met Mattheo's.
Unlike me, he wasn't angry. Instead, a mischievous glint sparkled in his dark eyes. he was smirking.
"So, you said this is your first time at the Three Broomsticks, love?" he asked, a playful smile on his lips as he stood up. I felt a pit forming in my stomach, unsure of where this was headed.
"Yeah," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Then let's make it unforgettable," he declared, his smile widening. He turned towards Charlie's table, his gaze locking onto Charlie's. Pansy, who had been watching the exchange with a mixture of amusement and apprehension, suddenly looked terrified.
Mattheo strolled over to their table, a confident swagger in his step. Reaching down, he casually lifted Charlie's untouched butterbeer He held it out to me with a charming smile. "Here, love," he said, not sparing Charlie a glance.
Charlie watched the exchange, his jaw clenched. "Is there anything you want to say, Spinnet?" Mattheo asked, his voice deceptively calm. Charlie just shook his head.
"Do you like toads?" Mattheo asked again a question so out of place it left us all speechless.
"S-seems like I do," Charlie stammered, his voice barely a squeak.
"Good," Mattheo said simply.
Then, in a blink, it happened. A blinding flash of light erupted from Mattheo's outstretched wand, enveloping Charlie. Before anyone could react, the speechless Charlie had vanished, replaced by a , green toad hopping comically on the table.
My scream was lost in the cacophony of shouts and gasps. Pansy let out a bloodcurdling shriek, scrambling back in her chair. Crabbe, for once, looked utterly bewildered.
Mattheo remained calm amidst the chaos, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Ignoring the stunned patrons, he reached for his pocket and placed a couple of pills on our table.
"I would take him back to the castle if I were you," he said to Pansy with a chilling smile. "Unless you prefer the company of amphibians."
Pansy was speechless, her face pale with a mixture of fear and fury. All she could manage was a strangled, "Merlin's Beard!"
Turning back to me, Mattheo offered his hand with his usual nonchalant charm. "Shall we go, love?" he asked, his voice a gentle contrast to the chaos he'd just unleashed.
We walked in comfortable silence for a while, following the familiar path towards the Black Lake. Finally, we reached the water's edge, the gentle lapping of waves against the shore providing a soothing counterpoint to the earlier frenzy. Mattheo gestured towards a large, flat rock nestled under a willow tree. "Mind joining me?" he asked, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.
I nodded, still processing the events of the evening. Charlie's transformation, Pansy's terror, it was all a bit surreal. Sitting down on the rock, I pulled my knees to my chest, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me.
"So," Mattheo began, a playful lilt to his voice, "first date, and I turn your potential bully into a toad. Not exactly the charming introduction I was hoping for."
I glanced at him, surprised. "Date?" I stammered, a blush creeping up my cheeks.
His smile softened. "Well," he began, " we did ditch the project discussion for butterbeer and…, then turning someone into a toad… definitely not your typical Tuesday."
I couldn't help but laugh, My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. "I… I never thought…" I stammered, completely flustered.
He reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His touch sent shivers down my spine. "Neither did I," he confessed, his voice surprisingly soft.
"Thank you," I said, taking a deep breath, " it's the first time anyone has ever defended me like that. Not since my Uncle."
Mattheo's smile softened. "Well," he said, his voice gentle, "consider me your knight in slightly-unconventional-Slytherin-armor then."
I laughed a blush crept up my cheek
Silence descended between us, broken only by the gentle chirping of crickets and the lapping of the lake.
"You mentioned your Uncle," Mattheo said, his voice curious. "Tell me about him."
"He's a bit of a character," I began, a smile playing on my lips. "He travels the world, studying ancient magic. He's probably in some remote location right now, chasing myths and legends he’s so brave ."
"Sounds fascinating," Mattheo commented, his voice laced with genuine interest. "But you're not close with anyone else in your family?"
The question hung in the air, and I hesitated for a moment, unsure how much to reveal. But something about the sincerity in his eyes, made me want to share a part of myself I rarely opened up about.
"Well, I'm not exactly their favorite," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "You see, my arrival wasn't exactly... welcomed."
Mattheo's brow furrowed in concern. "What do you mean?" he asked gently.
Taking a deep breath, I plunged into the murky waters of my past. "My mother ,she found out she was pregnant with me. At the same time, she learned about my late brother's… illness. He died tragically, just two days before I was born."
"She… she blamed me," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. "She believed I somehow took his place, that I was the reason he was gone."
He squeezed my hand gently, as if offering silent comfort.
"And your father?" he asked, his voice low and controlled.
"My father," I said, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "He said I stole his son's place. He never showed me any affection, always seeing a shadow of my brother instead of me."
My throat tightened, and I struggled to continue.
"But then there’s nana … well, she is a healer," I began, taking a shaky breath"She believed in a strange kind of balance. She used to say, 'A soul for a soul.'" A shiver ran down my spine as I recalled the chilling words. "'Sometimes,' she'd say, 'life takes one thing and gives another’. She just wished it had been my brother who lived."
"Y/N," he said, his voice low and serious. "That's a terrible thing to say to a child. None of that is your fault. You didn't ask to be born, and you certainly didn't cause your brother's illness."
Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. The weight of their rejection, the constant reminder that I was somehow unwanted, had always been a heavy burden to carry.
Then, with a tenderness that took my breath away, he brushed his thumb across my cheek, wiping away a stray tear. The simple gesture, so full of empathy and understanding, felt like a dam breaking inside me. The tears that I'd been holding back spilled over, flowing freely down my cheeks.
Mattheo didn't flinch. He didn't pull away. He simply sat there, his hand cupping my face, his gaze holding mine with an intensity that both scared and excited me.
In a voice barely above a whisper, he said, "They don't deserve you , Not your mother, not your father, not sure your weird grandmother . They are blind to the incredible person you are."
His words, sincere and heartfelt, washed over me like a soothing balm.
"You are strong," he continued, his voice husky with emotion. "You are brave. You are kind. You carry the weight of their cruelty, yet you remain kind. That is a strength they will never possess."
His thumb continued to brush away my tears, his touch sending shivers down my spine.
As he spoke, the space between our faces seemed to shrink. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my lips, his gaze holding mine captive. The air crackled with a tension that was both exhilarating and terrifying.
Then, before I could even think to stop him, Mattheo leaned in closer. The world around us seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of his hand on my face and the anticipation building within me.
His lips met mine in a soft, tentative kiss. It was a fleeting touch, barely a whisper, yet it sent a jolt of electricity through me.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. A nervous smile tugged at the corner of his lips.," is this your first kiss? “ he murmured, his voice husky.
A slow nod confirmed his suspicion , he leaned in again, this time deepening the kiss. This kiss was different – moving with a rhythmic dance that spoke volumes of unspoken emotions.
When we finally broke apart, breathless and slightly dazed, a blush crept up my cheeks. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo echoing in the quiet night.The taste of his lips lingered on mine, a sweet and intoxicating sensation that left me craving more.
"So," he said, his voice slightly breathless. "Forget everything I said about first impressions being unforgettable. Maybe this is a better way to start things off."
The next weeks unfolded like a whirlwind. Mattheo became a constant presence in my life, his shadow seemingly falling across mine with an uncanny frequency. Whether it was bumping into him "accidentally" on my way to Herbology, finding him "coincidentally" seated across from me in the library buried in the same obscure text on Fae magic, or him "miraculously" appearing just as I was leaving the Great Hall, it was clear he was making a concerted effort to be around me.
His tactics, though slightly obvious, were nonetheless charming. He started leaving small gifts on my desk – a fascinating book on Veela lore, a single perfect white rose
No one had ever gone out of their way to make me feel special before. Mattheo was doing just that, chip by chip, breaking down the walls I'd built around myself.
His "accidental" helpfulness extended to academics as well. He started leaving me beautifully illustrated books on ancient magic, conveniently "forgotten" on my desk. During Potions, he'd mysteriously materialize behind me just as I was about to accidentally add Flobberworm mucus to my Amortentia potion (a near disaster that could have had…interesting consequences).
One afternoon, while struggling with a particularly complex Transfiguration spell, Mattheo walked in on my frustration. He didn't laugh or poke fun,Instead, he sat down beside me, his patience as impressive as his knowledge. He explained the spell with a clarity I hadn't experienced before, his hand brushing against mine as he pointed something out on my parchment.
By the end of the week, I'd not only mastered the spell but found myself drawn to Mattheo in a way I hadn't before.
Mattheo's efforts extended beyond "accidents." He started introducing me to his friends. Theo and blaise ,Then there was Enzo, Mattheo's half-brother. With his playful demeanor and infectious laugh, Enzo made me feel welcome within their circle. I found myself enjoying their company, their camaraderie a stark contrast to the loneliness I had grown accustomed to.
One evening, while studying in the common room, , Enzo, sauntered over , He slid into the seat next to me, ignoring Mattheo's glare.
"Hey there, love," Enzo said, his voice dripping with a flirtatiousness that made me feel uncomfortable. "Studying hard?"
Before I could respond, Mattheo spoke up. "Enzo, perhaps you haven't noticed, but Y/N is busy."
Enzo simply chuckled. "Relax, brother. Just trying to be friendly." He leaned in closer to me
Enzo whispered, "He can be quite possessive, don’t you agree?" I couldn’t help but laugh, which was Mattheo’s last straw.
"Back off, Enzo," the words laced with barely contained anger , Enzo smiled and with a shrug and a playful wink at me, he sauntered away.
The most surprising consequence, however, was the complete absence of whispers. The rumors that had plagued me since childhood seemed to vanish overnight. Not a single snide remark, not a single pointed finger. The silence was deafening, and yet, strangely comforting.
Was it fear of Mattheo, or something more? Either way, I didn't question my newfound peace.
The stolen moments with Mattheo became a cherished secret language.
One particularly rainy evening, after a long and tedious double Potions lesson, Mattheo found me huddled in the deserted library, desperately trying (and failing) to decipher a particularly cryptic passage in a dusty old tome.
"Having trouble with the love language of Goblins, love?" he drawled, his voice a welcome sound in the quiet of the library.
I looked up, startled, my cheeks flushing at the sight of him. "Mattheo, you scared me!"
He chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "Just offering my expertise in the finer points of ancient languages," he said, a playful glint in his eyes.
He pulled up a chair next to me, the scent of his cologne filling my senses. As he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper as he attempted to translate the passage, a spark ignited between us.
Emboldened by the privacy of the deserted library and the frustration of the Gobbledegook text, I turned to face him, my lips brushing against his ear as I pointed to a particularly confusing line.
Suddenly, the air crackled with unspoken desire. Mattheo's hand cupped my cheek, his thumb gently tracing the line of my jaw. His gaze held mine, a storm brewing in its depths.
"There's another way to learn this language," he murmured, his voice husky with suppressed longing.
Before I could respond, he closed the gap between us. The kiss was different this time. It was slow, searing, filled with a raw emotion that sent shivers down my spine. It was a kiss that spoke not just of affection, but of a growing possessiveness, a silent claim on my heart.
We pulled away breathlessly, foreheads resting together. The quiet of the library thrummed with the intensity of the unspoken words hanging in the air.
"Maybe Gobbledegook isn't so bad after all," I finally whispered, a shy smile playing on my lips.
Mattheo chuckled, a deep sound that resonated within me. "Perhaps not," he agreed, his eyes lingering on mine for a beat longer than necessary.
One blustery afternoon, while seeking refuge from a sudden downpour in a hidden alcove near the greenhouses, we found ourselves alone. The air crackled with unspoken tension as we stood shoulder-to-shoulder, the rain drumming a steady rhythm on the stone walls.
He cleared his throat, his gaze flickering from my face to the storm raging outside. "This weather is something else, isn't it?" he said, his voice barely a whisper above the wind.
"Unpredictable, like magic itself," I replied, my own voice barely a murmur.
Suddenly, he turned to face me, his eyes a storm brewing within them. Before I could react, he cupped my face in his hands, his touch sending shivers down my spine. The space between us evaporated as he leaned in, his breath warm against my cheek.
"You're unpredictable too, Y/N," he murmured, his voice husky with something raw and primal. "In the best way possible."
And then, he kissed me. It was a kiss unlike any I'd ever experienced. It was fierce and passionate, filled with a yearning that mirrored my own.
I was hunched over a particularly dense text on Herbology, wrestling with the intricacies of magical plant growth, when a shadow fell across the page.
Looking up, I met Mattheo's gaze, a teasing glint in his dark eyes. "Lost in the world of Venomous Tentacula again, love?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine.
I swatted playfully at his hand, a smile tugging at my lips. "These Bulbadox Bulbs are more stubborn than they look," I grumbled.
He chuckled, leaning closer. "Maybe they just need the right touch," he murmured, his breath warm on my ear.
Before I could react, he reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against the offending passage. A jolt of electricity shot through me, my heart skipping a beat. He lingered for a moment too long, his touch sending goosebumps erupting across my skin.
"See?" he said, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Sometimes understanding comes from a different kind of connection."
His words were a playful jab, but the intensity of his gaze held a deeper meaning. I felt my cheeks flush, a secret smile spreading across my face.
"Maybe," I replied, unable to tear my gaze from his.
The silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken emotions. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, Mattheo leaned in further. His lips brushed against the sensitive skin of my neck, sending a wave of warmth cascading through me.
It was a soft, lingering exploration. He trailed a finger down my neck, sending shivers dancing across my exposed skin. My breath hitched in my throat, and I leaned back into his touch, a helpless moan escaping my lips.
He chuckled against my skin, a low, throaty sound that sent a delicious tremor through me. "You should see the way you blush, Y/N," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.
My cheeks burned even hotter. This wasn't the stolen kiss under the moonlight, this was something more intimate, more raw. It was a secret shared between us, a confirmation of the growing connection that thrummed beneath the surface.
Suddenly, the library door slammed open, shattering the intimate moment. Madam Pince, the stern librarian, swept in, her beady eyes scanning the room. Mattheo and I both straightened up, a sheepish grin on his face.
"No hanky-panky in the Restricted Section, young man," Madam Pince barked, her voice laced with suspicion.
Mattheo, ever the charmer, flashed her a boyish grin. "Just helping a friend with her research, Madam Pince," he said, his voice dripping with mock innocence.
Madam Pince narrowed her eyes at us for a moment longer before muttering something about "frivolous students" and disappearing behind a towering bookshelf.
As soon as she was gone, Mattheo let out a low whistle, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Looks like we've been caught," he said, a hint of regret in his voice.
I couldn't help but laugh, the tension broken. "Maybe we should stick to the Herbology section next time," I teased, butterflies still fluttering in my stomach from his touch.
He took my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine. "Maybe," he agreed, his eyes holding mine. "But who knows what secrets lurk in the Restricted Section?"
Suddenly, a voice broke through my concentration. "Y/N!"
I looked up to see Charlie Spinnet standing awkwardly in front of me, a hopeful smile plastered on his face. My stomach lurched, a flicker of unease coursing through me.
"Charlie," I stammered, unsure of what to say.
"Hey," he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Can I talk to you for a second?"
Before I could answer, mattheo’s voice cut in, laced with a dangerous edge.
"Actually, she can't," Mattheo drawled, His eyes narrowed at Charlie, a dark glint flickering within them.
Charlie gulped, his hopeful smile faltering. "M-Mattheo," he stammered. "I just wanted to…"
"Whatever it is," Mattheo interrupted, his voice low and cold, "it can wait."
The tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife. My heart hammered against my ribs, caught between the awkwardness of Charlie's unexpected presence and the possessiveness radiating from Mattheo.
"But—" Charlie began, but Mattheo cut him off again.
"No buts, Spinnet," Mattheo said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Now, if you'll excuse us,"
He took my hand possessively, his fingers wrapping around mine with a force that left no room for argument. Before Charlie could stammer another word, Mattheo practically dragged me away.
We walked in silence for a moment, the only sound our hurried footsteps echoing through the empty corridor. My cheeks burned with a mixture of annoyance and a strange sense of… satisfaction?
"Mattheo, that was a bit harsh," I finally said, breaking the silence.
He stopped abruptly, turning to face me. His gaze was intense, a storm brewing within its depths.
"He shouldn't have bothered you," he said, his voice low and possessive.
"He was just trying to talk to me," I pointed out, a hint of defiance creeping into my voice.
"And what exactly did he want to talk about?" Mattheo challenged, his jaw clenched.
"I don't know," I admitted, shrugging my shoulders. "But I should have been allowed to find out, shouldn't I?"
Mattheo seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment, his emotions flickering across his face. Finally, he sighed, the tension slowly ebbing away.
"Look," he said, his voice softer now, "I just… don't like the idea of someone else getting close to you."
My heart skipped a beat. Was he… jealous?
"Why not?" I couldn't help but ask, a teasing smile playing on my lips.
He hesitated – a rare sight that sent a thrill through me.
"Because…" he stammered, searching for the right words. "Because maybe you mean more to me than I care to admit."
The words hung in the air. A smile bloomed on my face, wider than it had in weeks.
"Is that so, Riddle?" I said, my voice barely a whisper.
He met my gaze, his eyes filled with a newfound vulnerability. Leaning in closer, he brushed a stray strand of hair from my face with his thumb.
"Maybe it is," he murmured, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to mine.
Before we could explore that maybe any further, a loud cough echoed through the corridor. We sprang apart, startled, to see a smirking Enzo leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed.
"Oh please don’t let me stop you ," he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
Mattheo scowled, his usual bravado returning. "Get lost, Enzo," he snapped.
Enzo, unfazed, simply chuckled. "Just making sure you're not neglecting your studies, brother dearest," he said, his voice dripping with mock concern. "Professor Flitwick wouldn't be happy if he caught you missing his lecture because you can’t keep your hands to yourself those days "
My cheeks burned even hotter. "We weren't… ," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.
Enzo chuckled. "Whatever you say, sweetheart . But don't worry, your secret's safe with me." He leaned in conspiratorially. "Though, if you're looking for a more private place next time, I know a few hidden alcoves that are perfect for… well, you get the idea."
"Thanks, Enzo," I said smiling trying to get away from this conversation as fast as possible .
"Anytime," he replied, throwing a playful two-finger salute before disappearing back down the corridor.
Mattheo and I stared at each other for a long moment, the tension thick in the air.
"I think I need to go …" I began, unsure how to proceed “ see you at ummm….”
"...Great Hall," Mattheo finished my sentence, his voice laced with a hint of disappointment. Though his earlier possessiveness had surprised me, I couldn't deny a flicker of warmth at his reluctance to see me go.
"Yeah, the Great Hall," I confirmed, unable to meet his gaze for too long. The lingering confession, the stolen moment almost-kiss, hung heavy between us.
As I sank deeper into the worn armchair, a group of giggling Gryffindor girls approached, their chatter drawing my attention.
"Y/N!" Lavender Brown announced, her voice bright with excitement. "Did you hear? There's supposed to be a total lunar eclipse tonight!"
My heart skipped a beat. A lunar eclipse? A shiver of excitement ran down my spine. For the first time in years, I hadn't even been aware of such an event. But more importantly, they were inviting me.
Parvati Patil chimed in, her dark eyes sparkling. "We're all planning to gather near the lake to watch. It's supposed to be incredible! Are you coming?"
"I…" I stammered, unsure how to respond.
"Oh, come on, Y/N," Padma, Parvati's twin, nudged me playfully. "It'll be fun! We can all gossip and make wishes under the moonlight."
A lump formed in my throat. It was a simple question, but it felt monumental. An invitation to not just witness a celestial phenomenon, but to be included, to be a part of something.
For a moment, I simply stared at them, my mind struggling to process the shift. Was this real? Did they genuinely want me to join them?
"I don't know," I mumbled, looking down at my shoes. "Maybe…"
"Don't worry, Y/N," Lavender reassured me, sensing my hesitation. "It's up to you. But if you do decide to come, we'd love to have you."
With a warm smile, they turned to leave, their excited chatter fading as they descended the stairs. I watched them go, a wave of indecisiveness washing over me.
The rest of day went by quickly as I was still thinking about the invitation then mattheo I looked around searching for him
I spotted him by the courtyard, leaning against a stone pillar, his usual air of nonchalance masking a hint of concern. As I approached, he pushed himself off the pillar and met my gaze.
"Hey," he said, his voice laced with a question as his eyes scanned my face.
"Hi, Mattheo," I replied hesitantly.
"Everything alright?" he asked, his brow furrowed. He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from my eye with a gentle touch .
Taking a deep breath, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "There's a lunar eclipse tonight, did you know?"
He blinked, surprised by the abrupt change of subject. "A lunar eclipse?" he echoed.
"Yeah," I said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "Apparently, it's supposed to be the biggest one in years. Everyone's going down by the Black Lake to watch it."
The corner of his mouth twitched. "Everyone, huh?" he said, a playful glint in his eyes.
"Well," I admitted, feeling my cheeks flush, "not everyone. But some people. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil invited me, and…"
I trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence. Did I dare ask him to join me?
"And?" Mattheo prompted, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"And," I mumbled, looking down at my shoes, "I was wondering… would you maybe want to come with me?"
The playful smile vanished, replaced by a look of genuine surprise. "With you?" he echoed.
I looked back up at him, my heart pounding in my chest. "Yeah," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "If you want to, of course."
He held my gaze for a long moment, the silence stretching between us. Then, a slow smile spread across his face, warm and genuine.
"I'd like that very much, love ," he said, his voice a low rumble.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues of orange and pink, I made my way towards the Black Lake. The crisp autumn air buzzed with excited chatter as students from all houses gathered, blankets and snacks in tow, eager to witness the celestial spectacle.
A warm hand brushed against mine, sending a jolt through my system. Turning, I met Mattheo's gaze, a spark of amusement dancing in his eyes. He wore a casual smirk, but the way his hand lingered on mine spoke volumes.
he breathed, taking in the scene before him. "Didn't expect the whole school to be here."
I chuckled. "Apparently, lunar eclipses are kind of a big deal."
We weaved through the crowd, Lavender and Parvati waving to us over Theo , Enzo even Blaise was there too that was really unexpected . We settled in, surrounded by the cheerful chatter and laughter.
As the moon began to cast its silvery glow, a hush fell over the crowd. Everyone turned their eyes skyward, captivated by the gradual darkening of Earth's natural satellite. Mattheo, however, seemed more interested in me than the moon. His hand brushed mine again, sending a delicious shiver down my spine.
Leaning closer, he whispered in my ear, his voice husky and warm. "Beautiful, isn't it?"
I nodded, unable to tear my gaze from his face. "It is," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
He tilted his head slightly, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to mine. Just as I thought he was about to kiss me, his voice dipped even lower.
"come with me. "
The surprise on my face must have been evident. "Where?" I stammered.
he said, a playful glint in his eyes. "Trust me, it'll be worth it."
We walked for what felt like an eternity, the only sounds the crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional rustle in the bushes. The air grew thicker the deeper we ventured, and a sense of unease gnawed at the edges of my excitement. Just as I was about to voice my concerns, Mattheo came to a stop in front of a section of gnarled oak trees, their branches intertwined in an almost unnatural way.
"Here?" I asked, eyeing the dense foliage with suspicion.
He smirked, his eyes gleaming in the faint moonlight that filtered through the canopy. "Here," he confirmed, stepping forward and pushing aside a thick curtain woven from the very leaves themselves.
To my astonishment, a hidden passage unfolded behind the makeshift doorway. A narrow path, barely wide enough for two people, stretched into the darkness, illuminated faintly by glowing mushrooms that dotted the damp stone walls.
My initial apprehension warred with the budding trust I felt for Mattheo. Taking a deep breath, I gripped his hand tighter. "What is it?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Just trust me," he murmured, his touch surprisingly gentle.
We walked in silence, the air growing colder and the earthy scent more pronounced. The path eventually led to a sturdy wooden door hidden within the rocky wall. Mattheo pushed it open, revealing a sight that took my breath away.
It was a small, circular room, but its crowning glory was a large, arched window that took up most of one wall. Through it, the eclipse was on full display, the shadowed moon hanging in the inky black sky. But unlike the darkness of the forest, here, the view was clear and breathtaking
I breathed, my surprise echoing in the stillness of the night.
Mattheo chuckled, a hint of pride in his voice. "Told you it was worth it."
"This is…" I stammered, searching for the right words. "Amazing."
Mattheo smiled, his hand moving to brush a stray curl from my face. “We found this place a while back," he explained. "It's kind of a secret."
He pulled me towards the window, his arm wrapping around my waist, stood behind me , gazing up at the celestial phenomenon unfolding above us. The darkness, once menacing, now seemed like a vast, inky canvas upon which the eclipse played out.
"It's even more breathtaking from here, isn't it?" Mattheo whispered, his voice warm against my ear. , his words laced with something more than just the wonder of the eclipse.
I could only nod, my throat suddenly dry. The beauty of the celestial spectacle was undeniable, but it paled in comparison to the feelings Mattheo was stirring within me.
A warmth bloomed in my chest, a response that surprised even me. Mattheo's presence, so close and unexpected in this hidden haven, sent a delicious shiver down my spine.
As if sensing my shift, his arm tightened around my waist, pulling me closer. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the backdrop of the crackling fire.
Then, his lips brushed against my ear again. This time, the words were different. Softer, more intimate. "You're even more breathtaking," he murmured, his voice sending shivers down my neck.
My eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze reflected in the moonlight filtering through the window. The eclipse, forgotten for a moment, seemed to cast an ethereal glow on his features, highlighting the intensity in his eyes.
Before I could form a coherent thought, his lips met mine. The kiss was tentative at first, a soft exploration that sent a wave of warmth through me. Instinctively, I reached up, my fingers finding purchase on his arm.
A contented sigh escaped his lips as he deepened the kiss, his hand finding mine and intertwining our fingers. The touch sent a jolt through me, a current of electricity that ignited a fire within.
When he finally pulled away, a breathless gasp escaped my lips. My cheeks burned, my heart hammered a wild rhythm against my ribs. A shy smile tugged at the corner of my lips.
His gaze never left mine.He leaned down again, his lips trailing a path of fire down my neck. He paused at a sensitive spot just below my ear, sending a jolt of pleasure through me.
Unable to hold back a moan, I arched my neck into his touch, a silent plea for more. His hand reached down, skimming the curve of my hip before settling lightly on my lower back as I felt the wall behind us
He was going to stop I know that he was going to hold back again "Wait," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. Looking into his eyes, I saw a storm of emotions – frustration, amusement. It was a look that made my heart skip a beat, a look that made me feel a dangerous mix of power and surrender.
"I want to " I stammered, unsure how to articulate the jumbled mess of emotions swirling within me.
"You sure?" he asked, his voice husky with suppressed desire.
Taking a deep breath, I blurted out, "I want this, Mattheo. I mean…I've never done this before, but I trust you. And I want it."
"Let's take things slow, alright?" He whispered softly in my ear and i nodded, his lips finding their way back to my neck, tracing over the mark he had just left behind.
"Mattheo," I moaned when he nipped at the same spot again, his teeth sharp and his lips unyielding.
"God my name sounds like heaven from your lips" he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear.
"Have you ever touched yourself, love?" His question caught me off guard, my breath catching in my throat as I shook my head. I had wanted to try but never mustered the courage.
"It's okay, my love," he reassured, his hands sliding under my top, caressing my skin with a tender touch that sent shivers down my spine.Then he gently pushed me up, settling me on the nearest table. "I'll take care of you."
Pressing more kisses to my neck, his hands moved to my hips, his fingers digging into my skin as he lifted my skirt slightly. "Is this alright?" he asked, his breath hot against my neck.I smiled at him and nodded again
“I’m going to touch you now, Just tell me when you want to stop, and I promise I’ll end it,” said with determination, his fingers brushing my cheek i nodded leaned forward to kiss him instead of just responding.
He did as he told , his fingers sliding into my pants proceeded slowly, finding my most sensitive spot, eliciting pleasurable sensations that made me arch my back and cling to him.
slowly rubbing circles around it. He used light pressure, but it felt amazing. His gaze intently watched my response, figuring out what i like.
He picked up the pace and pressure, sending pleasurable shocks through my body. my back arched as the ache between my legs increased. 
“God you’re so wet for me." he whispered, his voice filled with awe and desire. "Does it feel good?"
“ Yes , it feels so good.” I moaned softly, my voice barely audible as waves of pleasure washed over me.
"Can I?" he asked, seeking my consent.
"Yes, please," I begged, my desperation evident in my voice.
"It might feel strange at first, but I promise it will get better quickly," he reassured, and I nodded in agreement. With my consent, his finger slid between my folds, eliciting a soft moan from my lips. My hands found their way to his shoulders as I rested my head against them.
"Breathe, my love," he whispered, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of pleasure. I obeyed, inhaling deeply as a symphony of moans escaped my mouth, each one a testament to the pleasure coursing through my body.
"Mattheo," I moaned, his name a mantra on my lips.
"Yes, love. Talk to me," he encouraged, his movements slowing to allow me to catch my breath.
"There's something..." I tried to say, but pleasure engulfed me, leaving me speechless.
His lips found mine, his kisses distracting me from my thoughts as I succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure he offered.
"Just let go for me," he whispered against my lips, his breath igniting a fire within me that sent me spiraling into bliss.
His thumb applied pressure to my clit, sending electrifying waves of pleasure through my body. I gripped his shoulder tightly as he carefully added another finger, causing me to close my eyes in ecstasy.
"Don't close your eyes, love. Look at me," he urged, his voice filled with desire and a hint of command. I obeyed, locking eyes with him as his fingers found that specific spot inside me, unleashing a sensation I had never experienced before. It was so intense that I couldn't contain my scream of pleasure, feeling like I was soaring among the clouds.
He continued to target that spot, his gaze fixed on me as if he could read my every reaction. With a satisfied smile, he spoke soft words in my ear , reveling in my response.
His touch remained gentle yet firm, guiding me through the waves of pleasure until I reached the pinnacle, my body trembling in his embrace as I experienced a euphoric release unlike anything before.
"It's alright, I'm here," he murmured, his words a soothing balm as I surrendered to the pleasure that consumed me.
As I floated back to reality, I found myself in his arms, his gaze filled with tenderness and adoration. He leaned in, capturing my lips in a deep, passionate kiss that spoke volumes of unspoken emotions.
"Maybe you mean more to me than I care to admit too , riddle," I repeated his earlier words. But what I truly wanted to express was that, ,I think I'm in love with you, Mattheo Riddle.’
From that night onward, everything shifted, and my life transformed into a fairy tale. The intensity of my feelings for him grew so profound that a day without seeing Mattheo felt like an eternity, leaving me yearning for his presence. He cherished me as if I were the most precious gem in his life, and to say that I loved him would be an understatement; my emotions ran deeper than mere words could express.
Despite our unspoken declarations of love, we refrained from exploring further sexual intimacy after that intense encounter. However, the desire and longing between us only grew stronger, leaving me yearning for more moments of intimacy with him. Each kiss, touch, and gaze across the room spoke volumes of the love we shared, even if the three words were never verbalized.
The end-of-year party hosted by Slytherin was a legendary affair, whispered about in hushed tones by those who had attended in previous years. Despite hearing countless tales about the extravagant festivities, I had never been tempted to go, for me, it had always been an off-limits fantasy , one I didn't dare to try and make true.
As the "jinx girl", stepping foot into such a renowned event felt like a risky move. The thought of facing judgment, scrutiny, and potentially being ostracized by my peers held me back from even considering attending.
However, in those few months everything changed. I found myself shedding my inhibitions and fears, stepping out of my comfort zone and embracing new experiences. The bonds I formed with other Slytherins grew stronger, and I even made friends outside of Mattheo's circle, feeling more at ease and confident in social settings.
The Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry was as legendary as the end-of-year party itself. This year, however, a shared misfortune had united the two houses in a grudging camaraderie. Professor Flitwick, bless his innocent heart, had stumbled upon Blaise Zabini and a very surprised Gryffindor tangled together in a rather compromising position in a dusty basement corridor. Let's just say, both houses lost a significant number of points, paving the way for Ravenclaw to snatch the coveted House Cup in a landslide victory.
So, as the day of the party approached, a thrill of anticipation danced in my stomach.
"Mattheo," I said, catching his attention as I approached him and his friends. He gently guided me to sit next to him, holding my hands with a tender touch
“ yes love ? “
"Are we… are we going to the party tonight?" I asked, trying to gauge his reaction.
He looked up, surprise flickering across his face. "The party?" he echoed, raising an eyebrow. "You… you want to go?"
I felt a flicker of self-consciousness, but I held his gaze. "Yeah," I admitted.
“Honestly, Y/N," he said, "it's a bit… childish."
"Childish?" I repeated, surprised. "But everyone says it's a lot of fun!"
Enzo, chimed in with a shrug. "He has a point. It's mostly just first years causing mayhem."
There it was , that hesitation. Mattheo rarely said no to anything I asked.
He studied me for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features. He glanced at Enzo, exchanging a silent communication that left me puzzled.I don’t really understand I know they used to go every year .
He looked at me for a long moment, his dark eyes searching mine. Then, a slow smile spread across his face.
"Alright then love ," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "If you want to, then we'll go."
The Slytherin common room was a whirlwind of emerald and silver. Green streamers snaked across the ceiling, enchanted banners proclaimed Slytherin victory in various forgotten contests, and a cacophony of music and laughter filled the air. My heart pounded with excitement, a delightful mix of anticipation and nerves.
The atmosphere was vibrant, filled with laughter and music. Everyone seemed genuinely happy to have me there, chatting and mingling as if I had been a regular attendee for years.
However, what struck me as odd was how Mattheo and Enzo never left my side. It was as if they were guarding me, anticipating something that I wasn't aware of. Despite their usual easygoing demeanor, there was a sense of alertness in their actions that left me curious and slightly uneasy.
As the night progressed, I couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched, not in a malicious way, but more like a protective gaze. Mattheo and Enzo's constant presence by my side felt both comforting and unsettling at the same time.
I tried to brush off my unease and enjoy the party, engaging in conversations and joining in on the festivities. However, the nagging feeling that something was amiss lingered in the back of my mind.
It wasn't until later in the evening, when Mattheo and Enzo exchanged a meaningful glance, that I realized there was more to their protective behavior than met the eye.
Chaos erupted in the common room as Charlie Spinnet, stormed towards Mattheo. "Get her out of here now ," he growled, jabbing a finger in my direction. "Or I'll do it myself."
Before Mattheo could respond, the room fell silent. A Slytherin seventh-year, Adrian Pucey, stood on a nearby table, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Hold on there, Spinnet ," he boomed, his voice cutting through the tension. "This year, we're doing something a little different… a play!"
A cheer erupted from the Slytherins, many of them eager for a change from the usual prank wars. Mattheo , however, remained unconvinced. He narrowed his eyes at Adrian, suspicion etched on his face.
As the play began, I couldn't help but notice the similarities between my name and the name of the girl portrayed in the story. It didn't take long for me to realize that the play was about a jinxing girl, and it described in vivid detail everything I had confided in Mattheo about my family and my troubled past at the lake that night.
Panic clawed at my throat. I stole a glance at Mattheo, but his face was a mask. He reached out a hand towards me, but I flinched back instinctively .
The room fell silent, every eye glued to me and the unfolding drama.
Onstage, the actress portraying me continued, her voice dripping with drama. "…driven by ambition, she stole her brother's place, but a terrible curse followed. Wherever she goes, misfortune befalls those around her. She's the jinx girl, a harbinger of bad luck!"
A collective gasp rippled through the room. Whispers erupted like flames, spreading fear and suspicion. I felt them scorching my skin, their judgment a suffocating weight on my chest.
Suddenly, a new scene unfolded on stage. A group of actors, portraying Hogwarts students, stood center stage. "Here's the dare," boomed one, a mock sense of bravery in his voice. "The boy who approaches the jinx girl and brings her to the party… wins!"
Suddenly, a commotion arose from the back of the room. Enzo and Theodore Nott , their faces grim, pushed their way through the crowd towards the makeshift stage. "Stop this!" Enzo said, his voice laced with fury. "This is out of line, Pucey!"
The actors scrambled off the stage, bewildered and slightly scared. The common room dissolved into chaos. Accusatory whispers turned into heated arguments. Pity and fear flickered in averted gazes. I even overheard someone mutter, "Did she really kill her brother?"
The roar of the party faded behind me as I sprinted down the Slytherin common room's hidden corridor, tears stinging my eyes despite my desperate efforts to hold them back. Mattheo's voice calling after me, pleading, only fueled my desperate need to escape.
"Y/N, please!" he shouted, but I ignored him, my feet pounding a relentless rhythm against the cold stone floor.
"Y/N!" he called again, his voice closer this time. Panic surged through me, lending me fresh bursts of energy.
Just as I reached the portrait leading out to the dungeons, a strong hand clamped onto my arm. I spun around, ready to lash out, but it was him – Mattheo, his face etched with a desperate worry I'd never seen before.
He tried to reach for my hand, but I recoiled violently. "Don't you dare touch me!" I screamed, my voice raw with hurt and betrayal.
He flinched, his hand hovering awkwardly in mid-air. "Y/N, love, just hear me out," he pleaded.
"Love?" I spat the word back at him, incredulous. "Don't call me that." The weight of everything that had just happened crashed down on me. The staged play, the public humiliation, the sickening realization that it had all been a dare.
"It's not what it seems like," he stammered, trying to explain. "I—"
"You what?" I interrupted, my voice rising. "It was all a lie, wasn't it? "
"No, no, I swear," he said urgently. "Everything that happened between us was real. My feelings for you…" His voice trailed off, his eyes pleading for me to understand.
But the damage was done. The carefully constructed trust – it had all crumbled to dust in the face of this cruel betrayal.
"Don't," I choked out, tears finally spilling down my cheeks. "Don't lie to me anymore."
A sob escaped my lips, and despite the anger burning within me, a part of me ached for the connection I thought we shared.
"Just give me a chance to explain," he pleaded, but I shook my head, unable to bear the sight of him anymore.
The truth, however distorted, was clear. "Wouldn't you deny it was a dare?" I challenged him, a flicker of defiance sparking in my tear-filled eyes.
Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. For the first time, I saw a flicker of genuine pain cross Mattheo's usually guarded features.
"No," he finally admitted, and I felt a wave of numbness wash over me.
As I turned to walk away, he continued, "It was at first, but I swear that from that night at the Broomsticks, everything was real. I even forgot about that stupid dare. Everything that happened between us was real, you know that."
I scoffed, wiping angrily at my tears. "I don't know anything anymore," I said.
"Foolish me. That's why you didn't want Charlie to talk to me that day, wasn't it? Because he was going to expose you?"
""No, Y/N, I just didn't want you to get hurt __“
"You what?" I cut him off again, my voice trembling with fury. "How generous of you," I said sarcastically. "But look, you win now, Riddle. Won't you go celebrate? It was their dare,"
"I don't care about anyone else but you," he said fiercely.
I stared at him, incredulous. "Then why does it feel like you care about everything else more than me right now?"
He took a hesitant step forward, but I didn't back away this time. I met his gaze head-on, my heart a tangled mess of emotions.
"I can't lose you," he whispered, his voice filled with desperation.
"You already have," I said, the words like shards of glass in my mouth. I wanted to hurt him, to make him feel even a fraction of the pain I was experiencing.
"I ___ i love you," he confessed, the words hanging heavy in the air.
Love. The very word felt like a mockery.
I looked him straight in the eye, my voice surprisingly calm despite the storm raging within me. "And I hate you, Mattheo Riddle," I said, each word laced with the bitter taste of betrayal.
With that final declaration, I turned away, leaving him standing alone in the darkened corridor, the portrait swinging shut behind me.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅
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motherlvr · 11 months
Text
3+1 times Prowler! Miles Morales x Spider-woman! reader
SPOILERS FOR ATSV
read part 2 here!
3 times Miles tried to confess, + 1 time he did.
Word count: 2.7k
Summary: Instead of the radioactive spider biting Miles, it bit you. You turned into Brooklyn's one and only Spider-woman, while Miles turned into the prowler. Miles also helps you with Spanish.
Warnings: friends to lovers, lots of cursing, most definitely not canon, kind of slow-burn?, jealousy, morally gray reader, he's lowkey toxic, no smut, heated make-out session, im feasting on crumbs (his 2 minutes of screen time), this is not ATSV plot heavy, the whole prowler x spidey thing isn't really until the end (enemies to lovers)
A/N: for the sake of the plot, the reader doesn't fluently speak spanish, but can speak some. this has been rotting in my drafts ever since ATSV came out
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1.
Miles glares at you two from across the room, predominantly at the guy you're laughing with. Surely he's not that fucking funny. Miles thinks as jealousy spreads within the pit of his stomach like a forest fire. However, you don't seem to notice his stare burning holes through the guy you're speaking to. The same cannot be said for him, however. Miles makes eye contact with him and sends him one glare that immediately makes the poor guy cower with fear away from you.
"I uh...gotta go." The guy squeaks out to you, his voice cracking with terror as he runs away. You raise an eyebrow as you watch him run away. What the hell was that? You think.
Miles appears next to you within the next moment and says, "Hey, ma." he gives you a slight smirk and wraps his arm around your shoulders. That smirk made you weak in your knees, you almost kissed him right then and there. You should be given an award for your amount of self-restraint.
"Hey Miles, qué pasa?" You greet him with a smile that reaches your eyes. Miles' smirk drops and he furrows his eyebrows at you as he inquires. "Who was that guy?" "He's just a friend, why?" You raise an eyebrow and question back. "Don't worry about it, you like him?" His words catch you off guard. You pause for a moment and turn your head to him with a judgmental stare as you shake his arm off you and say, "Miles. What is this? 20 questions?" You deadpan and continue, "He's not important, alright?" Seemingly satisfied with your response, he drops the subject.
After school, Miles and you head to his house. You've been struggling in Spanish class. Spanish grammar might actually be the death of me, you think. Since Miles excels in Spanish due to primarily being raised by his mother, you asked him to tutor you, which he surprisingly agreed to.
It doesn't hurt that you get to spend more time with Miles, either. Something about him never fails to send butterflies straight to your stomach, maybe it's his intense stare that makes you weak in your knees, his accent that somehow makes him ten times more attractive, or- You cut your thoughts off. You felt guilty for feeling this way about Miles. You know you shouldn't. These feelings you harbor would only cause more harm than good. After all, the people you love always seem to be in danger.
After a couple of hours of pure torture, (Spanish grammar) Miles started to speak, "Escúchame, mami. I-"
Loud, blaring police sirens cut off his sentence. Thanks, Brooklyn. Pretending to get a message from your mother, you glance at your phone's screen and look at Miles with an apologetic expression, "Shit, sorry Miles but I gotta go. My mother wants me home. She said it was urgent. But we're still on for tomorrow right?" Miles raises a skeptical eyebrow but ultimately says, "Yea. It's 'Ight, princesa. See you tomorrow" his accent lacing his words. You get up to kiss his cheek and wave him goodbye. As normal friends do, you tell yourself. Shit. You shake the thoughts away before your overthinking completely undoes your brain.
You wait until you're at least a couple blocks away from his house before you reveal the spider suit underneath your clothing and pull your mask down your face. You thwip your webs and swing away to investigate what crime was scheming tonight in Brooklyn. Leaving Miles alone in his room to regret not telling you.
2.
Honestly, you weren't paying attention to whatever Miles was saying. Instead, you were just focusing on how attractive you found his accent. You'd suffer through two more years of Spanish just to hear his voice. In fact, during most of these tutoring lessons with Miles, you weren't paying attention to the actual lesson. It doesn't help that he keeps staring at you with those eyes of his. But behind that cold exterior, you knew he had a soft spot for you. Even if he didn't outright admit it.
Miles' voice brought your attention back to the actual lesson, "Lo entiendes, princesa?" Miles asked you with a knowing smirk. You nodded your head immediately, trying to play it off. "Uhh, si." You said with a thumbs up, immediately regretting it. That was so nerdy. You shame yourself in your mind. You pretended to take notes, shamefully lowering your head down to your notebook.
While you were pretending to take notes, Miles broke the silence.
"So what's up with you and that guy from earlier?" "I told you, he's just a friend. Nothing is going on between us." Miles puts his hands up in his defense, "Alright, mami. It just didn't look like that with the way you were laughing at whatever he said. He's not Kevin Hart."
Way to completely ruin the mood. You dropped the pencil you were holding and stopped taking notes. Looking directly into his eyes, you said "Miles, I really don't know what your deal is." "You really wanna know what 'my deal is'? 'Ight. It's 'cause-"
Miles' phone beeps, interrupting him. He cursed in his mind, not being able to tell you how he felt yet again. He glances down at his screen. "Ay princesa," Miles spoke up, his words never failing to make your face go warm. His nicknames for you weren't new by any means, but they still made your heart flutter. He continued, "Uncle Aaron needs me, I gotta roll. He said it's an emergency. Don't think I'm trying to cut this short. You're still my girl, alright?" He started to leave when he turned around suddenly. He walked over to you and turned your head to him with his hand, kissing your forehead. "Hasta luego, mami." He left the room, leaving you alone in his room with only your thoughts swirling around your mind. You were sure you were about to have a heart attack. His girl? The kiss? Miles was acting oddly affectionate. And what's with him practically using the same excuse I used? It's not like he's the crime-fighting vigilante here. You rolled your eyes.
You didn't know what Miles and his uncle were so busy doing, but you had a feeling that it wasn't very morally right. That would explain how ambiguous he's been lately. More often than not, he's had to leave in the middle of tutoring to tend to whatever his Uncle needed him for. But you can't entirely blame him, you have secrets you've been hiding from him too.
You packed up your things and left his room. "Chao, Mrs. Morales. Thank you for letting me into your home!" You said to Miles' mother while leaving. "Of course, you're always welcome here." She replied to you with a warm smile. That woman was a true saint.
3.
If you had to spend any more time confined in a room alone with Miles and just your emotions, you were sure you'd fucking lose it. By losing it, I mean grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie and kissing him senseless. But you were afraid. Afraid that he would take your heart right out of your chest to shatter it and then leave you alone to pick up the pieces. So, you came up with a little white lie to get out of tutoring today.
"Is it alright with you if I skip tutoring today? My mother is sick and I have to take care of her." The lie slipped off your tongue like butter.
"Nah that's cool." He shrugs. Huh. He let me off that easy? You were two seconds away from having the dreaded 'What are we?' conversation with him after last night, until someone's arms wrap around you from behind.
"Hey, beautiful." Your friend from the other day was back. And he clearly didn't see Miles right next to you. You cringe and awkwardly take his arms off of you and turn around, "Hey, Josh." "Are you free tonight?" Miles was watching this interaction with jealousy coursing through his veins. Did this douche seriously not see him right next to you? Right before you could even open your mouth to respond, Miles responds for you. "Hell no she isn't. Get the fuck out of here, man." Miles snaps at him. Your friend's head whipped to Miles so fast you were sure he'd get whiplash. "Oh shit." He stuttered, "Sorry, man. I didn't see you...I'll leave now." He ran away as fast as his feet could take him. Poor Josh.
You glared at Miles. "What the actual fuck was that, Miles? He was just asking me a question." "He was asking you out, idiot." Miles said right back to you. "So what if he was? Honestly. What's it to you? You've been acting so possessive. May I remind you that we are not together?" You snapped at him. "Maybe I want-" He started, but this time, he was the one cutting his sentence off. He couldn't find the words to tell you just yet.
The bell rings. You look at Miles, awaiting his response. When a few silent moments pass by, you finally say, "What? What is it you want?" For once in your friendship with Miles, he didn't have a response. You, he thought. "Y'know what Miles? Until you've come to your senses, just leave me be for now." He had no right to start acting like you were bound to him. You walked to your class without him. He cursed himself in his head.
You'd been ignoring him the whole day. Yet ever the petty, he hadn't messaged you at all.
Your phone pings. "You busy with Jake?" You read. It was from Miles. That petty fucker. Your face immediately drops. That's not even his name. You left him on read and turn off your phone. For someone who thinks he's heartless and nonchalant, he sure was acting possessive.
+1
Dusk approaches Brooklyn and you're out patrolling instead of thinking about Miles. That's all you've been doing lately, and you needed a distraction.
Unfortunately, Miles had the same idea. He was out taking missions Kingpin gave him.
As you were searching the streets of Brooklyn for crime, you sensed a presence. Ahead of you was a silhouette in a dimly lit alley, their back facing you. You hid behind the wall. Finally something interesting tonight! As you climb on the walls and get closer, you recognize the figure.
Oh, great. It's the Prowler.
This wasn't your first time meeting the Prowler. No, you've fought with him in the past. He's ruthless and a cold-blooded killer. He's efficient and excruciatingly fast. That's what makes him an imminent risk to be allowed to roam the streets freely.
As Spider-woman, it's your responsibility to keep the streets of Brooklyn crime-free. So, you follow him. As you're trailing behind him, crawling on the walls, you notice the people he's meeting with. It's an arms deal, you realize. As you crawl closer, you notice that they weren't regular arms. They were abnormally high-tech for these seemingly harmless criminals.
I'll just web up the couple of amateurs and then deal with the big guy Prowler, easy. Oh how wrong you were.
"Hey, boys! Nice toy you've got there." You said as you dropped your voice down an octave, disguising your voice. You jump down from your place on the wall and thwip your webs at the unsuspecting arms dealers, binding them to the wall. They were knocked unconscious.
You thwip'd your webs at the weapon and effectively took it away from them. You'd have to drop it by the police station later with a friendly note.
The Prowler lunged at you, his steel claws missing your face by an inch.
"Hey, man! That felt a little personal." You shouted, thankful to still have your face attached to your head. You used your webs to grab onto the Prowler and strike him directly on his mask. You started to run, with the Prowler tailing right behind you.
He had you cornered, but you weren't surrendering that easily. You positioned into a defensive stance, ready to defend yourself.
His mask was cracked a bit, causing his voice modulator to reveal his unfiltered voice. "Nowhere to run, spider."
Your heart dropped as your eyes widened through your mask. Not in fear, but in recognition. You could recognize that voice anywhere. That was the voice that sent shivers down your whole body, yet made you want to strangle him the next.
"...Miles?" The words came out more of a whisper. Your voice sputtered as you dropped your fake voice. You webbed the weapon to the wall, disregarding it. Turns out, he didn't need to reject you to shatter your heart into a million pieces.
His stance immediately faltered. He could recognize your voice out of a thousand others.
Prowler, or rather Miles, stood silent.
“Miles, take off that damn mask. I know it's you.” You took off your mask, and he opened his. His eyes were unreadable. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into Miles?" You sighed. You didn't recognize him anymore. You didn't know who he was. There was no way the Miles you knew had become this.
"Fuck, princesa. I didn't want you to get involved in this shit. You're the fucking spider?" You feel as if he was seeing you for the first time again. "I'm fucking Spider-woman, you dick. And I've been involved with this 'shit' ever since I got bit by a spider. Now explain this, whatever you've turned into!" You spurted out, pointing at his suit. "I got roped into business with Kingpin after my father died. Shit, I never meant for this to happen." He exclaimed.
"What, you think you're protecting me by not telling me? Bullshit." You say, throwing your hands up in the air. "I was protecting you. I was protecting you from Kingpin. Because I fucking love you. I meant it when I said you were my girl." He proclaimed.
When you thought this night couldn't get any wilder, it just did.
Alarms blared in the back of your mind, telling you to leave. Your brain is screaming at you to think about your moral obligation to stop the Prowler, no matter who he is. But your heart is telling you otherwise. You choose the latter.
"Fuck, Miles. Shut the hell up." You threw a web at his abdomen and pulled him towards you, efficiently shutting him up by connecting your lips to his. Sliding your hands onto his braids, you pulled him in closer. He immediately reciprocated and grinned into the kiss, setting his arms on your hips.
Turning into a heated make-out session, he backed you against the wall of the alley. You felt your legs giving out on you. Miles put his knee in between your legs, supporting you. He kissed you with passion. He's pinned for you for the longest time, and he finally has you. He wasn't going to give it up for anything. Unfortunately, you needed oxygen to live, so you pulled back. A string of saliva connected your lips as you parted.
He took away all the oxygen in your body, and apparently your moral compass as well, with only one kiss. Unable to open your eyes until a few moments after, you fluttered your eyes open. "I fucking love you too, Miles" You whispered against his lips. "Oh, really? Couldn't tell." He teased with a smirk, his lips seconds away from yours as he looked down at you. He held your gaze with longing in his eyes.
Muffled screams ruined the moment. Miles and you react immediately, putting your masks back on. You got your webs ready while Miles had his steel daggers out. Lowering your guards, you realize it was the couple of guys you webbed up and forgot. "Sorry, I'll go take care of them." You said as you rubbed the back of your head awkwardly. Miles stifled a laugh as he said, "That's alright, ma. You can make it up to me later." You heard the smugness in his voice as you swung away to the police station. You made sure to fulfill his request later that night.
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part 2!
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aajjks · 9 months
Text
Teachers pet (m)
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synopsis: forbidden is always irresistible.
pairing: yändêrê stüdënt x fëm!tëächër rëädër.
warnings: söft yändērē, sïmp bëhävïöür, öbsëssîvë thoughts, öbsëssïön, dïrty thöüghts, tëächêr x stüdënt, förbïddën rômãncë. ägë dïffërënce.
note. my second oc is here, send him asks, talk to him, ask me questions about him, I like him he’s sexy 😵‍💫
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yandere!student who has the biggest crush on you.
You who are his teacher, so much older than him.
Yandere!student who only excels at your classes, trying his best to get good grades so he can impress you.
Yandere!student who feels like he will actually cum when you praise him, or call him a good boy.
Yandere!student who hates it when you praise his fellows, he hates it, it makes his skin itch, he wants to kill anyone who gets your praise other than him.
Yandere!student who is rude to his other teachers, he can’t focus on their lectures, all he thinks about is you you you.
Yandere!student who is so shy around you, who puts in so much effort into his appearance for your sake, who loves to act like a good boy, so you can see just how good he can be.
Yandere!student who is always early to your class, who always makes sure to sit right infront of you so you can look at him.
Yandere!student who couldn’t help but cry from the relief when he got to know that you were divorced and currently single.
Yandere!student who doesn’t hesitate to beat up the creeps in your class that sexualise you, oh no, he’s going to kill them, you are not an object or a piece of meat to be ogled at.
Yandere!student who purposely gets detention just so he can look at you for hours and fantasise about his desires,
Yandere!student who finds your children so adorable, who makes sure to slip in a few compliments for them to charm you.
Yandere!student who wants you so bad, but he knows you won’t ever give him a chance.
yandere!student who won’t stop until you’re his. Because he always gets what he wants.
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“Christian?”
he can hear someone call out his name, yet he doesn’t reply, he’s busy looking at you, you’re so beautiful with your glasses, that cherry shade of lipstick on your lips is driving him insane.
How can someone look so hot while teaching, he will have to ask you that.
“Christian?!!?” Oh he’s getting pissed now.
“WHAT?!!?” The blue eyed male stands up, chewing on his metal tongue piercing as he glares his icy eyes into the girls face, Christian doesn’t realise the attention of the whole class on him,
Until you call his name out.
“Christian Dias? Is everything alright?”
His eyes almost roll back the way you call out his name, you say it with so much elegance it makes him want to scream. “M-Ms YN… she keeps talking to me, can you please change my seat?”’
“Umm sure. But not now, the period is almost over so tomorrow, now focus.”
He can’t argue with you.
“Okay.”
“And see me after class.”
His eyes widen with surprise, excitement starts to bubble inside his chest. He gives you a nice dimpled smile. “Sure? Anything you want, ms YN!”
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