₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Nathan Prescott X Fem!Reader

The Rich Asshole . ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

masterlist

So i have a few conflicting emotions when it comes to this character. from when i found the game I hated this guy. Though like most people there is an ounce of remorse that we feel for this character. However, my love for him is so conflicting because as much as he is a victim, he is the reason for what happened to rachel. Anyways here is my little story with my conflicting feelings. ALSO YOU CAN SAY HE ISN’T AT FAULT BUT HE IS. just because he was lead to these decisions does not mean he still didn’t do them.

“Fuck off, Prescott!” Your voice snapped down the hall, sharp enough to make a freshman nearly drop his textbooks.

Nathan, slouched against the lockers like he owned the goddamn place, gave a slow, mocking clap. “Wow. Real mature, (Y/L/N). You kiss your mommy with that mouth?” His tone was lazy, but his eyes pinned you like a bug to a wall.

You marched toward him, shoving your bag higher onto your shoulder. “I’d rather kiss a loaded shotgun than deal with your shit for the next two weeks.”

Nathan pushed off the locker with a sneer, standing tall. Taller than you, not that you’d ever admit it.

“Newsflash, bitch you think I wanna work with you?” he snapped, crumpling the project assignment sheet in his fist. “I’d rather fucking drown in a Porta Potty.”

You jabbed a finger into his chest a stupid move, because under all that overpriced denim and leather, he was solid muscle but you were way past giving a shit. “Then drop out, Prescott. No one would miss you.”

For a split second, something flickered in his eyes. You couldn’t tell because just as fast, he leaned in closer, face twisted in a sneer. “You’d miss me, sweetheart. You need someone to take your boring ass life up a notch.” His voice was low, practically a growl. “You’re so desperate for excitement you’ll probably fucking love having me around.”

“You’re delusional,” you spat, shoving past him.

But Nathan wasn’t done. He followed, keeping pace easily, his voice dropping into that dangerous, mocking tone he used when he wanted to pick someone apart. “Face it. You’re just pissed because you have to finally realized you’re not better than me.”

You whirled around, nearly slamming into his chest. “I am better than you,” you hissed, close enough to see the fine scars nicking the side of his jaw, the ones most people didn’t notice under the arrogant smirk. “I don’t have to buy my friends, or bribe my teachers ”

Nathan laughed, sharp and ugly. “Yeah? Keep telling yourself that, bitch. Maybe one day you’ll actually believe it.”

The tension between you vibrated like a taut wire, ready to snap. Across the hall, Mr. Jefferson poked his head out of his classroom door. “Everything okay over there?”

You both spoke at the same time:

“Fine,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Peachy,” Nathan drawled with a fake grin.

Mr. Jefferson raised an eyebrow but disappeared back into the classroom without another word. Nathan turned back to you, the smile dropping immediately. “We’re meeting at the library. Tomorrow. Four o’clock,” he said, his voice all business now, like he could barely stand to look at you.

“Don’t be fucking late, (Y/L/N). I don’t wanna waste more time than I have to babysitting your dumbass.”

You gave a mocking bow. “Oh, your majesty. Should I bring you a goddamn throne too?”

Nathan just rolled his eyes, shoving his hands deep into his jacket pockets as he stalked off down the hall without another glance at you. You stood there, fists clenched, heart pounding. God, you hated Nathan Prescott.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

The library clock ticked past 4:00 PM. You drummed your fingers on the table, glaring at the empty seat across from you. Your notebook lay open, pen uncapped. Still no Nathan.

At 4:17, he finally strolled in with all the grace of someone who gave absolutely zero fucks sunglasses on indoors, slouched walk, earphones dangling. You didn’t disappoint. “You’re fucking late,” you snapped the second he dropped into the chair across from you with a loud, obnoxious scrape. Nathan didn’t even look at you. Just threw his bag on the table, knocking your pen to the floor.

“Cry harder.”

You scoffed. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Yeah? So’s your face, but here we are.”

You clenched your jaw, grabbing your pen. “You gonna actually contribute or just sit there throwing middle school insults?”

Nathan pulled out a crumpled folder and dropped it onto the table like it weighed ten pounds. “I already did my part. You can finish it. You’re the one who actually gives a shit.”

“You call this your part?” You flipped through the papers of barely legible answers. “This looks like it was written by a brain damaged raccoon.”

He smirked. “Well you and the raccoon have something in common. Both can’t shut the fuck up.”

You leaned in, voice low and furious. “I’m not doing this whole thing alone, Prescott. If I fail because of your lazy, coke snorting ass, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Nathan leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, gaze dark and slow. “Blow me, princess.”

You didn’t flinch. You just smiled. Sweet. Cold. “I don’t do charity work.”

A few heads turned. You didn’t care. Neither did he. Nathan barked out a laugh bitter, humorless and sat forward again, voice tighter. “You think you’re tough?”

“No,” you said, deadly calm. “I know I’m better than you. You just hate that I don’t suck up to your daddy’s money like everyone else in this school.”

His smile dropped like a stone. “You’re right,” he said, quiet and sharp. “You’re not like everyone else. You’re just louder, bitchier, and a hell of a lot more annoying.”

“At least I don’t need pills and daddy’s lawyers to make it through the day.”

“Fuck you,” he muttered, but he opened the book anyway. Slouched so low in his chair you wondered how he could even see the words.

You tried to focus on your own work, but the sound of Nathan tapping his pen against the table made your skin itch. Every two minutes he let out a sigh, a groan, or muttered some sarcastic shit under his breath.

Finally, you snapped.

“If you hate this so much, maybe you should’ve told Jefferson to pair you with someone who gives a shit about your trust fund problems.” Nathan slammed the book closed so hard it made a few nearby students jump.

“Yeah, because you’re so fucking perfect, huh? Probably got your whole boring little life planned out already. Graduate, go to some shitty state school, get a lame job, marry some douchebag with a Prius ”

“At least I’m not gonna OD in my daddy’s beach house!” you hissed back, the words out before you could stop them.

The library went deadly quiet. Even the air seemed to freeze. Nathan’s eyes darkened. His whole face twisted, raw and ugly, and for a terrifying second, you thought he might actually throw something at you. Instead, he stood up so fast his chair tipped over behind him.

“Fuck this,” he snarled.

The librarian barked from the desk, “Hey! shut up or get out!”

Nathan didn’t even flinch. He grabbed his bag and stormed out, shoving the door open so hard it banged against the wall. You stayed frozen in your seat, chest heaving, throat tight. Some students stared. Others pretended not to notice. Slowly, you packed up your things, the shame burning hotter than your anger now.

You left the library with your jaw tight and your fists clenched so hard your nails bit into your palms. Screw him. Screw his smug face, his broken homework, and that goddamn mouth that never shut up unless he was about to say something even worse.

The cold air outside was a slap, but it helped. You headed toward the dorms, steps quick and angry. Until you heard footsteps behind you. You glanced over your shoulder and sure enough, Nathan Prescott was trailing you, jacket half zipped, jaw set like he’d been chewing on broken glass. You stopped. “Are you seriously following me now? What, storming out wasn’t enough for you?”

Nathan didn’t stop until he was right in front of you. Too close. “Why the fuck are you always such a bitch to me?” he snapped.

You blinked. That… wasn’t what you expected. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” he bit, eyes narrowed. “We’ve barely spoken before this week, and you act like you’ve got me all figured out. You’re always ready to throw shit at me like you know me.”

Your mouth opened, but no words came. For once, he wasn’t just being snide he was pissed, yeah, but there was something else under it. Something sharper. Real.

“What the hell did I do to you, huh?” he went on, voice rising. “We’ve never had a conversation before Jefferson paired us up, and you already decided I’m the devil or some shit.”

“You’ve got a reputation, Prescott. Don’t act surprised.”

He laughed. One dry, humorless breath. “Yeah? So that’s it? Some gossip, and suddenly you know who I am?”

You crossed your arms. “I don’t need to know you. I’ve seen enough.”

“No, you’ve seen what you want to see.” He leaned in slightly, voice low. “You think I’m some rich junkie asshole with a fucked up temper and a silver spoon so far up my ass I choke on it, right?” You didn’t answer. The silence said enough. Nathan’s tongue pressed against his cheek. He nodded slowly, like he was trying to swallow something bitter. “Right. Thought so.”

You shifted your weight. “Look, you act like a dick, Nathan. You treat people like they’re beneath you.”

“And you treat me like I’m already guilty of something I didn’t even fucking do.” His tone turned colder. “So what does that make you? If you’re throwing labels at someone without even trying to know them?”

You tried to shove past him, but he stepped in front of you again not touching you, but close enough to make your blood burn. “What? Can’t handle hearing it? You’re so sure you’re better than me?”

“I am better than you.”

“No,” he said, voice like ice, “what kind of self righteous bullshit is that”

You stared at him. His eyes weren’t glazed or cocky like usual, they were clear. You hated how it made your stomach twist. “Just stay the hell away from me,” you muttered.

He didn’t move. “Then stop talking about me like you know me. Because you don’t. And judging by today?” He tilted his head slightly, mouth curled in something bitter. “You’re not half as perfect as you like to pretend.” Then he finally stepped aside, letting you pass. But his words followed you all the way down the sidewalk.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

You moved through the halls walking beside Max while she rambled about her latest photo concept. Her words blurred something about natural light, shadows, an abandoned greenhouse. You nodded here and there, but your attention wasn’t really on her. Nathan Prescott stood across the hall, leaned casually against the lockers in that crimson red sweater he always wore like armor. His hands were shoved into his pockets, posture slouched, head tilted toward Victoria, who was perched beside him. She was talking fast probably gossiping and he was barely listening. His expression was eyes distant.

“Hey, you good?” Max asked, her voice soft as she glanced sideways at you.

You blinked, pulled from your thoughts. “Yeah. Just out of it.”

She smiled lightly. “Blackwell’ll do that to you.”

Across the hall, Nathan looked up. His eyes met yours. You expected him to smirk. Or scoff. Or whisper something to Victoria that would piss you off all over again. He didn’t. He just held your gaze. There was no fire in it this time.

Then Max nudged your shoulder. “C’mon, we’ll be late.”

You turned, walking with her toward class, but the moment stuck with you like a thorn beneath skin. He wasn’t just some cautionary tale wearing expensive clothes. you weren’t as far above the mess as you liked to pretend.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

You weren’t sure what possessed you to do it. You’d barely knocked twice before the door to Nathan’s dorm creaked open, not wide, just enough for a glimpse of his sharp glare and the darkened room behind him. His eyes narrowed. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I came to work on the project,” you replied, shifting your weight.“You bailed on the library. I didn’t have your number.”

Nathan blinked once. Then, without warning, he reached out, grabbed your wrist, and yanked you inside. “Jesus!” The door slammed shut behind you. Before you could blink again, you were standing in the middle of his room dim, cluttered, with a faint smell of smoke and expensive cologne in the air. The only light came from a lamp on his desk, casting long shadows across the mess of camera equipment, crumpled notes, and an open bottle of water. He stood between you and the door, arms crossed, expression sharp.

“You shouldn’t be in the guys’ dorm.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not that deep, Prescott.”

“No,” he said, stepping a little closer, “it’s pathetic. You that desperate to see me? You stalking me now? Perv.”

You stared at him. “Are you always this fucking dramatic?” you snapped. “I came to work. On the project. The thing that’s due next week?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You couldn’t just ask for my number?”

“like your ass would indulge me in any conversation”

Nathan scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “And barging into my dorm was the better option?”

“You ditched me. Again.” You crossed your arms, mirroring him. “I’m not playing chase the rich kid so you can pretend this group project doesn’t exist. I showed up so we can finish the damn thing.”

He stared at you for a long beat.

Then, quietly, “You’re a fucking pain in my ass.”

“I’m passing this class.”

He turned away, flopping onto the edge of his unmade bed, elbows on his knees. “Fine,” he muttered. “If you’re gonna stand there taking over my space, grab a chair. Let’s get it over with.” You hesitated. Just for a second. Then sat down across from him silently waiting for Nathan to open the shared project file. But your eyes kept drifting. His desk was cluttered High end camera bodies rested in velvet lined foam. Lenses of varying sizes were stacked in an open case like polished glass trophies. Film rolls peeked out of a drawer he hadn’t shut properly. And on the wall above his bed, pinned with silver tacks, were photos.

Black and white. Grainy. Sharp.

Some were of strangers street shots, harsh shadows and sharp angles. Others were more abstract: empty chairs, cracked pavement, tree limbs twisting through fog. You didn’t mean to stare so long. But the compositions were striking. Not what you’d expected from someone who talked like he didn’t care about anything. Nathan sat on the edge of his bed, laptop open in front of him, fingers frozen over the keyboard. he wasn’t looking at the screen. He was watching you. Eyes low beneath his lashes, The tension from earlier had settled into something quieter not calm, exactly, but less volatile. He noticed the way your head tilted slightly as you studied a particular photo on the wall, your brow furrowed in faint curiosity. You looked different when you weren’t trying to bite back. He blinked, shook the thought away like an itch under his skin, and finally tapped the space bar.

“You gonna drool or you wanna help?” he muttered, loud enough to snap your attention back.

You blinked, jerking your head toward him. “Excuse me?”

“You’re staring at my shit”

You scoffed. “I was just surprised you’re actually good at something other than being an asshole.”

A grin flickered across his lips. “Wow. Touching praise from someone who broke into my dorm.”

“I didn’t break in.”

“guys dorm remember? That’s trespassing.”

You opened your mouth to fire back then caught the way his voice softened just slightly on that last word. Not enough to call it kind. You leaned forward, finally dragging the chair toward his desk. “Just show me what you’ve done so far. We’re not gonna finish anything if you keep acting like I poisoned your coffee.” He exhaled slowly, shifting the laptop so you could both see the screen. But his gaze lingered on you a second longer before turning to the document. You didn’t notice. He didn’t say anything.

You didn’t know how it happened but somewhere between reviewing the first slides and editing the captions, the two of you had stopped biting at each other. Nathan wasn’t exactly friendly, but he was… tolerable. He made a sarcastic comment about your font choice, and you rolled your eyes but didn’t snap. You pointed out a typo in his work, and he didn’t bark back, just muttered “Yeah, alright,” under his breath and fixed it.

life is strange isnt it?

The lamp on his desk cast a warm glow across the screen as the two of you leaned closer, arguing mildly about the placement of one of the images. You caught a soft twitch at the corner of his mouth not a smile, not quite but something quieter, like he wasn’t entirely annoyed you were here anymore. You glanced at the photo on the slide. One of his shots: a boy sitting on a curb, face obscured by shadow, light cutting sharp across his shoulder. “This one’s your best,” you said before you could stop yourself. Nathan’s eyes flicked to yours, He didn’t say anything. Just stared. Then, his phone buzzed.

Once.

Twice.

He glanced down, pulled it from his pocket lazily, still half focused on the screen. But the moment his eyes locked onto the message, something in him changed. Like a switch flipped. His shoulders tensed. Jaw tightened. Whatever softness had started to settle between you evaporated. He shoved the phone back into his pocket hard. You straightened, uncertain. “Everything okay?”

He didn’t answer right away.

Then voice low, clipped “You should go.”

The air dropped ten degrees.

You blinked. “What?”

“I said, you should leave.” He stood abruptly, already walking past you, pacing like the room had become too small to breathe in.

You stood, confused, watching him retreat toward the window without explanation.

“Nathan ”

“Don’t,” he snapped, not turning around. “It’s fine. Project’s fine. everything is fine. the world is fucking fine. I’ll send you the edits later.”

His voice was cold again. The weight was back in the room, that same heaviness you’d felt the first time he looked at you like you were just another person here to take something from him. You didn’t know who had texted him. Or why he looked like the ground had just shifted beneath him. But you didn’t ask. You grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder slowly. “Thanks for not being a total dick today,” you said quietly.

No response. You walked to the door, hesitating just a moment before opening it. Nathan still hadn’t turned around. So you left quietly, without another word. The hallway light stung your eyes as the door clicked shut behind you.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

Nathan laid on his back, eyes wide open, blinking into the ceiling. He hadn’t moved in hours not really. He’d thrown on a hoodie sometime after you left, curled in on himself, and stared at nothing as the hours bled past midnight. His phone buzzed again. Another message. From the same number. He didn’t read it. His chest felt tight. He could hear his own breathing too fast, too shallow. His hands twitched where they gripped the edge of his mattress, fingers white knuckled and cold. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. But it felt worse tonight. Now shame thick in his throat, desperation louder than pride, he opened the school directory, found your name, and typed your number in. He stared at the digits for a long time. Then, he hit Call.

You woke up to the buzz of your phone on your nightstand, groggy and confused.

1:47 AM. Unknown Number.

You almost ignored it. Almost. Though you firmly believed doing stuff for the plot leads to funnier futures.

“Hello?”

For a few seconds, there was only silence. Then a quiet breath. A small, almost inaudible noise. Then, “Don’t hang up.”

Your heart stilled. “Nathan?”

“Um… hi?” you said slowly. “Why are you ”

“I just…” He sounded off. His voice was low, but shaky. Like he was trying to keep it together. “I can’t sleep.”

You were quiet for a second. Not sure what to say. It was weird. You barely knew him. The guy who made it very clear he didn’t want to work with you suddenly calling you in the middle of the night? The hell? “How did you get my number?”

“School directory. Look, I know it’s fucking weird, okay? Just fuck just don’t hang up yet.”

You leaned back in your bed, running a hand down your face. The annoyance faded just a little. There was something raw under his words, something fraying at the edges.

You exhaled. “Alright. I’m not hanging up. What’s going on?”

He didn’t answer right away. You heard him breathing though sharp inhales, shallow. Like he was pacing, or panicking.

“I just needed noise or something. I dunno. It’s like my chest’s full of needles.”

Okay. That was more than you expected. You pushed your blanket off and sat up fully, rubbing your eyes awake.

“Okay,” you said softly. “Sounds like a panic attack.”

He let out a laugh. It was bitter. Dry. “No shit.”

You stayed quiet a second, then started talking. Not about anything important just things to fill the space. You told him about the way your floorboards creaked weirdly when it got cold. The dumb poster your roommate hung crooked. The vending machine that kept eating your dollar bills. You weren’t sure why he stayed on the line. You weren’t sure why you did, either. But the minutes passed, and you could hear his breathing start to even out.

At one point, he said, quieter this time, “I didn’t know who else to call.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. So you didn’t say anything. He stayed on the line until you heard nothing but slow, steady breathing. Then the call ended. You thought that was it. Just a one time weird moment. But the next night, your phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number. 12:18 AM.

You stared at it for a second. Then picked up. “Couldn’t sleep again?”

“Fuck off,” Nathan muttered, but his voice didn’t sound angry.

just like that, it became a thing. Not every night, but often enough. He’d call, and you’d talk him through it. Or he’d just listen while you rambled about whatever was in your head. Sometimes he didn’t even say much. You’d just hear his breathing. Then, one night, a text.

[1:03 AM] “Dorm’s a pressure cooker tonight. Need to get out. You up?”

You blinked down at it, thumb hovering over the screen. Then replied. “ok fuckboy, Where?”

[1:04 AM] “Back side of the art building. If you’re not scared of the dark or whatever.”

You pulled a hoodie over your head and slipped out the side door, keeping your steps light across the grass. You found him sitting on the low concrete wall, hoodie on, legs stretched out, a cigarette burning between his fingers. He didn’t look at you when you walked up.

“So… you make a habit of calling girls you don’t like at 1 a.m.?” you asked, standing over him.

He smirked, flicking ash. “You’re the only one dumb enough to answer.”

“Lucky me.”

He scooted over slightly. You sat down next to him, knees brushing briefly. He smelled faintly like smoke and laundry detergent. For a minute, neither of you said anything. Then he muttered, “Thanks. For not being a dick about the calls.”

You glanced at him. That was probably the closest thing to a thank you he was capable of. “Yeah, well,” you said, nudging him with your shoulder, “I’m not completely heartless.”

He gave a dry little laugh and took another drag. And for the first time since you’d met him, Nathan didn’t seem like he was pretending to be someone else.You hopped up beside him, the wall cold through your jeans. He handed you the cig wordlessly, and you took a drag, passing it back before pulling your phone from your hoodie pocket.

Three missed texts.

[1:52 AM Warren G.]

Where are you right now?

[1:53 AM Warren G.]

I just saw you from my window. Was that Nathan Prescott? Seriously??

[1:54 AM Warren G.]

[Y/N], what are you doing with him?

You stared at the screen for a long second, then locked it and shoved it deep into your pocket. You weren’t answering that.Warren was probably the reason you hated him so much. Right now Instead, you pulled a small joint from the hem of your hoodie tucked right where your sleeve met the wristband.

Nathan’s eyes tracked the motion, brow raising. “Since when do you carry?”

“Since tonight, apparently.” You lit it with a flick of a borrowed lighter, watching the paper curl into orange.

Nathan smirked faintly, but there was a flash of something in his face, curiosity. Not judgment. Just… surprise. “Rough night?”

You took a long pull, exhaled upward. “You could say that.”

You didn’t mention Warren. Didn’t mention the way your phone buzzed in your pocket like it was desperate to ruin the quiet. Nathan didn’t push. He just leaned back on his elbows, watching the smoke twist into the dark sky. What has been different from when you started interacting with Nathan more was not telling your friends everything. Warren might be the only reason you didnt like the guy that was sitting beside you. Though even hes such a stick in the mid sometimes.

“Not bad form,” he muttered.

“Thanks.”

He gave a soft snort, and for a minute, the tension dropped. You passed the joint over, and he took it without a word. The smoke danced lazily in the air between you, catching in the wind and disappearing into nothing. You leaned back beside him, body loose from the hit, brain a little fogged like your thoughts were wearing fuzzy socks on a hardwood floor. Nathan took another drag, eyes half lidded, and passed it back to you. You didn’t take it this time. Just stared forward, hands braced behind you, legs kicked out.

“You know,” you started, voice a little slower than usual, like you had to fish the words from somewhere murky, “I think I like you more than I realized.” Silence. You looked over, then quickly back at the dark stretch of campus in front of you. “I mean maybe it’s the high talking. Or maybe I’m just sleep deprived and having a brain glitch. Whatever.” You waved it off like it wasn’t a big deal, even though it felt like one. “It’s not like I know you, know you, but…”

You trailed off. The buzz of the joint mixed with the weight of that little truth hanging out in the open air now. Nathan blinked at you and then scoffed. “Wow,” he muttered with a crooked smile. “You catch feelings off one joint and a sad boy routine?.”

You turned to glare at him. “Shut up.”

“No, really. Should I light candles next time? Bring you flowers? Write you some poetry?” His grin stretched You went to snap back but then his hand brushed against yours on the concrete. Not accidental. He didn’t look at you when he did it. He just let his fingers slide over yours, catching them loosely. His palm was warm. Steady. You didn’t say anything. Didn’t look at him. Just stared at the building lights across the quad and let your hand stay in his.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

You hadn’t slept. Not really. Instead, you’d just laid there, reliving every second behind the art building Nathan’s hand in yours. he was warm. so warm. his eyes were glossy. the night ended later than any of you two could gather. Blackwell always felt a little gray in the morning, but today it there might have been a little pep in your step. Cold in the air, a small little nathan shaped warmth in your chest. You stepped into the hallway and spotted him before you were even fully through the door.

Nathan. Leaning against a locker laughing at something Victoria said, though it didn’t look real. Nothing about him did anymore. You slowed for just a second. “Shit,” he muttered, loud enough to carry. “Should’ve known the freak parade would show up early.”

Victoria snorted. “God, can she not?” Her eyes flicked over your clothes like she was personally offended by the fabric. “Every day’s a fashion crime with her.”

You froze mid step. Max and Warren were behind you, chatting, not realizing what you were walking into. Your heart stung before your brain could even process what was happening. Nathan pushed off the locker, brushing past you with a smug little smile. “Hope the janitors are getting paid extra,” he sneered, “cleaning up after your desperation.”

“What the hell, Prescott?” Warren stepped in fast, hand fisting at his side.

Nathan turned back, cocky, dangerous. “Relax, boy scout. Didn’t realize you two were still sharing notes. Or maybe it’s more than that, huh?” His eyes swept to you again, slower this time, and colder. “Figures. Nobody else would.”

ok pause. because what the fuck happened. Like yes he was an ass. the whole school knew that. Though considering the amount of time he was crawling into your messages, where the hell did this come from?

“Keep walking,” Max said lowly, stepping up beside you.

Max didn’t press. She never did. That was the nice thing about her. Since starting the school year, you both bonded on being new. well for you, relatively new and her coming back to her hometown.

Warren, though? At lunch, he was full of energy, waving you over like always. You sat down beside him and Max at your usual table under the half broken patio umbrella. He was in the middle of some rant about science fiction film logic when it happened.

“I’m just saying if a robot gains sentience, it doesn’t automatically mean it wants to kill us. That’s lazy writing ”

From across the quad, a loud snort cut him off.

“Wow,” Victoria said, not even bothering to keep her voice down. “Look who’s still wearing last season’s clearance rack.”

You blinked, confused, until you realized she was looking directly at you. Taylor giggled beside her, but it was Nathan who made your stomach drop. He pointed toward once at your table and leaned over to whisper something to Victoria. Then, loud enough for everyone near to hear “She should’ve stayed invisible. Worked better for her.”

Max stiffened beside you. “Jesus. What is their problem today?”

Warren stood up, indignant. “Hey. Why don’t you back off, Prescott?”

Nathan didn’t even look at him. His eyes were on you and they weren’t blank. They were cold. Icy. “Relax,” he said, tone bored. “Just making an observation.”

“You want me to make one too?” Warren snapped. “Like how you’re always hiding behind Victoria’s designer knockoffs?”

Victoria gasped like she’d been slapped. “Excuse me?”

Max grabbed Warren’s arm. “Not worth it,” she said quietly. You sat disguted. Nathan’s stare found you again. And just before he turned away, he said it not loud, but loud enough. “Better keep your pets on a leash.”

Then he walked off. Victoria followed, heels snapping against the pavement. The rest of the Vortex Club trailed behind them like spoiled royalty. You didn’t finish your lunch. You barely tasted anything after that. Max rubbed your shoulder gently, concern in her eyes. “You okay?”

You nodded. You lied. Because all you could hear was his voice, cold and clean and cutting a thousand miles from the one you’d heard whispering into the phone at 1 A.M. Like none of it had happened. Like you hadn’t happened.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

His eyes met yours, and for the first time all day, he was actually looking at you in the eyes. “Hey,” he said, voice soft.

You didn’t say it back.Instead, you stepped past him and into the room like it was a business meeting. Camera bag down. Laptop open. The wall between you and him went up brick by brick with every breath. “Let’s just get this done,” you said.

He didn’t argue. Just shut the door behind you quietly. You sat at his desk, the screen glow lighting your face. He hovered nearby, watching you scroll through edits like he didn’t want to say the wrong thing. Or maybe like he didn’t know how to say anything at all. “I fixed the lighting on the last three shots,” you said flatly. “Yours were a little overexposed.”

He nodded. “Yeah. You’re better at that stuff anyway.”

You didn’t respond. Just kept clicking. He moved to sit on the edge of his bed, quiet for a while before asking, “Did you still wanna use that photo by the fountain?”

“I already did.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, glanced at you, then away. “You, uh… didn’t answer my text this morning.”

You didn’t look at him. “Didn’t think it needed a reply.”

Nathan nodded, jaw tight. “Right.”

Back to silence. He didn’t bring up what happened. Didn’t ask how you were. And you didn’t bring it up either not how he’d ignored you all day, not how the only time he seemed to be kind was when it was dark out and nobody else could see. Not how you were starting to wonder if this was all he had to give. Just this. Only at night. Only when no one else was looking. You highlighted a paragraph of text and rewrote it. He leaned closer, trying to peek at the screen.

“You’re really good at this,” he said quietly.

You flinched. Not visibly but inside, your bones rattled. It felt like a visceral reaction. You kept your voice neutral. “We’re almost done.”

He didn’t say anything else. You sat there together for another half hour, finishing edits. His bed creaked once when he shifted. You didn’t look. Eventually, you saved the file and stood up.

“That’s everything,” you said. “I’ll print it in the morning.”

Nathan watched you gather your things. “You don’t have to go yet,” he said, almost hesitant.

But you did. if he had just said something, you might understand. Though there isnt enough time in the world to be chasing after rich boy problems he doesnt want to address.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

She left.

Didn’t even look back. Just walked out of the dorm like she couldn’t get out fast enough. Yeah. That felt about right. Nathan stood there like an idiot, hands in his pockets, jaw tight, listening to the door click shut. it was some kind of final answer he didn’t ask for. You don’t have to go yet. He’d said it like a damn loser. Like he didn’t spend the entire day pretending she didn’t exist. she looked at him like he was a goddamn stranger. He sat down on his bed, rubbed at his face, dragged his hands through his hair like it would help. It didn’t. It never did. Everything just kept buzzing. Loud. In his ears, in his chest, like a swarm of flies under his skin. He should’ve said something. Anything. Should’ve told her why he was being weird. Why he was quiet. Why he didn’t even look at her earlier. But how the hell do you say,

Hey, I’m scared you’ll end up in the basement of an abandoned barn if I like you too much?

He laughed. Or choked. One of the two. God, his hands were shaking again. He stood up fast, paced once, twice, kicked his desk chair just to feel something and regretted it immediately. His toe throbbed. Whatever.

He was sweating. Why was he sweating?

He pulled off the red zip up and threw it at the wall. Didn’t stick. Just slumped down like everything else. Jefferson’s voice. Crawling back in like it always did.

“She’s interesting, isn’t she?”

“Got a real… natural quality. Honest.”

“The kind of face that looks good in contrast. You see it, right?”

“She’s got potential.”

Nathan squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. “Shut up, shut up, shut up.”

It didn’t help. Jefferson’s voice was calm. Already chosen.He didn’t want that. He didn’t want her anywhere near that world.But what the hell was he supposed to do? Jefferson noticed things. once he noticed, it was over. Nathan dropped back onto the floor, breathing fast now. he’d been running. someone was pressing down on his lungs and wouldn’t stop. He clutched his shirt, pulled at the collar, trying to get air. Trying to slow his thoughts. His heart. Anything. But it wouldn’t fucking slow down.

His vision blurred a little. Pressure in his head, behind his eyes. He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek just to stop himself from crying or screaming or both.

He felt like he was going to throw up. Or pass out. Or explode. or all of the above. it all might actually happen. He didn’t know what was worse, the fact that he couldn’t be normal with her… or the fact that when he was, it made him want to protect her more than anything. That protection came with a cost. A choice. A name on a folder.

She didn’t know any of it. And she couldn’t.

until there was a knock at the door.

Nathan didn’t hear it the first time. Not really. Not over the ringing in his ears, or the ragged, frantic way he was trying to breathe. His back hit the wall. He didn’t remember moving. His hands were white knuckled fists against his chest like maybe that would keep it from splitting open.

Another knock.

He blinked. Everything was too bright and too dark at the same time. His name was a whisper behind the door “Nathan?”

Her voice. It hit him like ice water. He squeezed his eyes shut harder, digging his nails into his palms. Not now. Not like this. He couldn’t let her see him like

The door creaked open.

She stepped in fast, muttering under her breath, “God, of course I forgot my charger, that’s just whatever, not like it even ”

She stopped. Frozen. Nathan was on the floor. Slumped against the side of his bed, drenched in sweat, fists clenched so tight they shook. His chest heaved, erratic. Panicked. His face was pale, eyes red rimmed, wide and glassy. All that anger she’d brought with her white hot and ready to crack across the room halted like someone slammed the brakes. Her words died in her throat.

“…Nathan?”

He still didn’t look at her. Just gasped, breath catching hard in his throat, jaw clenched like he was trying not to cry. Or scream. Or both.

Her fingers curled around the charger in her hand. For a second, she stayed rooted to the floor, her heart pounding in her ears. Part of her screamed to turn around and walk away. He deserved that. After everything. Nathan barely registered when she moved closer. He couldn’t even look at her. Just pressed his fists against his temples like that would keep everything from collapsing.

She hovered there for a second, jaw tight, arms crossed. “You’re an asshole,” she muttered. Quiet. Bitter.

He looked like he couldn’t breathe. Cursing under her breath, she dropped the charger on his desk and stepped closer. Her knees hit the carpet slowly, hesitantly, right in front of him. She crouched down between his legs, biting her lip, watching him like he was whipped animal. She didn’t say anything right away. Just reached out, unsure, and carefully took his shaking hand.

Nathan flinched. Then his eyes finally lifted, just a little. Glassy. Bloodshot. Like he didn’t recognize her at first. But he didn’t pull away.

“Jesus…” she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady. “Nathan, you’re what the hell is going on with you?”

Still no answer. His fingers twitched in hers, breath still coming fast and shallow, but her hand grounded him. Little by little. Beat by beat. She wanted to yell. She really did. Wanted to scream at him for ignoring her. For looking through her like she didn’t matter. For pushing her away with no reason, no explanation, no damn warning.

Nathan’s breath hitched. His fingers twitched under hers, unsure, but desperate for the anchor. He gripped her hand like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the floor.

“Breathe,” she said, voice flat but steady. “In. Out.”

He tried. God, he tried.

“Again.”

His lungs caught on the exhale, but he followed her voice. One breath. Then another. Her thumb moved gently across his knuckles. She didn’t look at him. He didn’t look at her. They just sat there. Angry. Shaking. Breathing.

“I’m still mad at you,” she said quietly. Just the truth.

All she could do was sit there. Mad. Hurt. Holding onto his hand like it was the only way to keep him from falling apart.

“I’m still pissed at you,” she murmured, after a long, long silence. “But I’m not gonna leave you like this.”

Nathan blinked hard. A tear slipped down his cheek before he could stop it. He looked away.

And still, she didn’t let go.

Sero Hanta | Cellophane X reader

𖤐⭑Pro Hero- SpiderMan 𖤐⭑

i spent so much of my youth loving this man only to live with the fact that bro is unloved by this fandom.

masterlist

HES SPIDERMAN OH MY GOD IS THAT SPIDERMAN

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑ You were sprawled out on his bed, arms stretched over your head as you stared at the ceiling. Sero, on the other hand, was sitting on the floor beside the bed, his back leaned up against it. His head was tilted just enough that it was right beside yours, close enough that if you turned your head, you’d practically be nose to nose. It was a little funny, actually kind of like one of those upside down SpiderMan moments.

“Man, I am so glad we don’t have any training tomorrow,” Sero sighed, stretching his arms above his head. “I swear, if Aizawa had us do one more combat drill, I was gonna collapse on the spot.”

You hummed in agreement, lazily tilting your head to glance at him. “I thibk that guy has it out for us. Training us is cool and all but I think hed rather punch us all out and then bring eri to get sweets.”

Sero snorted, shooting you a grin. “Okay, true. but if I was him I would also do that too. Its been what? 2 years since her bring here and shes still adorable”

You rolled onto your side slightly, resting your chin on your hand as you looked at him only to realize just how close your faces were. He blinked at you, mouth parting slightly in surprise before you smirked.

“Hey,you know spiderman? for that matter do you know that one scene,” you mused. “You know, the upside down kiss?”

Sero’s eyes widened slightly before he let out a short laugh. “what exactly are you plotting?”

You grinned, an idea forming in your head. “You should totally try it for real. Use your quirk, stick yourself to the ceiling, and we’ll reenact it.”

For a moment, Sero just stared at you. Then, as the realization of what you were suggesting fully hit him, his entire face turned red.

“¡WAIT pause for a a whole second and backtrack the hell out of that! You actually want me to?! No way, no way! That’s a whole different kind (y/n) dont play with me right now!”

You burst out laughing as he scrambled, hands flailing slightly as if trying to physically push the idea away. His mind was clearly short circuiting at the thought of suspending himself from the ceiling just for a kiss even as a joke.

“C’mon, Sero,” you teased, grinning. “What’s the matter? Scared of a little commitment?”

“I’m not scared of commitment!” he shot back, still very visibly flustered. “I’m scared of falling on my face! You think I got the core strength to hold myself upside down long enough for a kiss?”

You snickered, propping yourself up on your elbows. “You are a hero in training. I feel like i’ve seen you do this all the time”

Sero groaned, dragging a hand down his face before shooting you a look. “Are you absolutely sure about this?.”

“Absolutely,” you admitted without shame.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Alright, fine. but if I fall and break my nose, you’re paying my hospital bills.”

“Deal,” you grinned.

With a dramatic sigh, Sero lifted his elbow and shot a strip of tape toward the ceiling, securing it before testing its strength. He muttered something about how this was so not how he expected his night to go before taking a deep breath and pulling himself up.

It took all of five seconds for him to lose his grip and come crashing back down onto his bed with a loud, “¡Mierda!”

You barely managed to roll out of the way before he landed half on the mattress which also mean falling half on you, half on the floor, groaning into the sheets. You were laughing so hard you could barely breathe.

“You good, Spider Man?” you wheezed.

“Never ever making that mistake again,” he groaned.

“Aw, but we didn’t even get to the best part.”

Sero cracked one eye open to glare at you. “If you wanna do the upside down kiss so bad, you hang from the ceiling next time.”

You grinned down at him, your faces just inches apart again. “Oh, But i don’t have the quirk for that. You’re the perfect hero for this duty”

Sero sighed dramatically, but you could see the small smile tugging at his lips. “youre testing me lady.”

“And yet, you keep inviting me over,” you shot back.

He chuckled, shaking his head before flopping fully onto his back. “Yeah, yeah. Remind me to never talk to you again.”

“Never letting that happen,” you said, still grinning.

Sero just groaned again, throwing an arm over his face as you laughed. He exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head before propping himself up on his elbows. “You know,” he said, giving you a slow, lazy smirk, “if you wanted to kiss me so bad, you could just do it now instead of trying to send me to the ER.”

Your laughter died instantly.

Your brain screeched to a halt, the words processing at a glacial pace. You blinked at him, expecting some kind of follow up maybe a laugh, maybe a “gotcha” to tell you he was just messing with you. But no. Sero just stayed there, eyebrows slightly raised, clearly waiting for a response.

Heat rushed to your face so fast it made you dizzy. “I what ?”

He tilted his head, still smirking, but you could tell by the way his fingers twitched against the sheets that he wasn’t as casual as he was pretending to be. “I mean, since you went through all that trouble, might as well, right?”

Your mouth opened, then closed. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess. It was a joke, right? RIGHT? He was testing you, trying to fluster you. but two could play at that game.

Your heart pounded as you took a deep breath, then muttered, “Fuck it.”

Before he could react, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his.

The moment they touched, you felt Sero tense beneath you, his breath hitching in surprise. But he didn’t pull away. In fact, after a second, you felt him relax, his hand hovering near your waist as if debating whether or not to grab onto you.

The kiss wasn’t perfect, there was still laughter in your chest, and you could feel the warmth radiating off his skin like he was just as thrown off as you but it was good. It was Sero. Playful, teasing, and real.

When you finally pulled away, you barely had time to process the look on his face before he let out a stunned laugh. “Okay whoa. Didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

You shrugged, pretending your pulse wasn’t going a mile a minute. “You challenged me. What was I supposed to do? Back down?”

He shook his head, grinning wide. “Damn. if I dared you to kiss me until I cant think would that make something happen?”

You smirked, leaning back on your elbows. “hmm i think that would be abusing the rules.”

Sero just huffed out another laugh, looking up at the ceiling for a moment before glancing back at you, his expression softer now. “you’re a weird person. ill just use your words next time.”

Your breath hitched, but before you could ask what exactly he meant by that, he stretched out with a lazy yawn, as if he hadn’t just said something that sent your brain spiraling.

“Alright,” he sighed dramatically. “Let’s pretend I didn’t just embarrass myself and move on.”

You huffed, shaking your head as you flopped back onto the bed. “yeah id rather not relive you falling on me. I still feel sore”

Sero groaned. “Im sorry but thats your fault for proposing it.”

But when you snuck a glance at him, you caught the way he was still grinning to himself, the tips of his ears burning red.

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑

The tall black haired guy dropped onto the couch, arms spread wide like he had just survived the most harrowing mission of his life. Across from him, Mina and Denki were sprawled out in their usual morning slump, nursing their cups of coffee like lifelines.

It was too early for homework, too late to still be asleep, and just the right time for the juiciest gossip of the day.

And Sero had the juice.

“You guys,” he started, grinning like a fool, “I think I just had the greatest night of my life.”

Mina looked up from her coffee. Identical to a beggar on the street. No sparkle in her eyes at all.

Denki blinked blearily, rubbing his eyes. “Bro, it is too early for you to be tryna make fancy entrances What happened?”

Sero leaned forward, elbows on his knees, barely able to contain himself. “Okay, so you know how I was hanging out with Y/n last night”

“Y/n?” Mina echoed, eyes wide. “As in, Y/n her?”

“Her her,” Sero confirmed with a nod.

Denki sucked in a sharp breath. “Hoe we only have one Y/n in our class. I dont know what shit youre on.”

And then, before he could even react

Mina’s body moved on instinct. She swung an arm out blindly, her half asleep brain barely processing what she was doing, and smacked Denki square in the face.

Hard.

The sound echoed through the quiet common room like a gunshot.

Denki let out a choked noise of betrayal as he recoiled, nearly spilling his coffee all over himself. “What the hell, Mina?!”

Mina blinked slowly, still not fully registering reality. She glanced at her hand, then at Denki, frowning as if confused as to how he got there. “…Huh?”

Denki clutched his nose, eyes watering. “You hit me!”

Mina took another sip of coffee, completely unbothered. “…Did I?”

Denki groaned, dramatically slumping back against the couch. “This is abuse. I’m pressing charges.”

Mina squinted at Denki like she was still buffering. “Oh.” Beat. “Well, you’ll live.”

Sero was practically crying from laughter at this point. “Okay, but back to what actually matters Y/n.”

“Hanta… if you don’t start making sense in the next five seconds, I’m going back to sleep.”

“Hush now!” Sero grinned, practically vibrating in his seat. “So we’re chilling in my room, right? She’s lying on my bed, I’m on the floor next to her”

“Okay, okay, set the scene,” Mina said, waving her hands. “What was the vibe?”

“Vibe was immaculate,” Sero said, dead serious. “We were laughing, teasing each other, you know, the usual. And then she brings up the SpiderMan kiss.”

Mina gasped. “dude thats so lame and so cute .”

Denki’s eyes widened. “Dude. No way.”

“YES WAY,” Sero insisted. “She straight up suggests I tape myself to the ceiling and do the whole upside down thing.”

Denki immediately lost it, nearly spilling his coffee as he doubled over in laughter. “Bro. why cant women that i like suggest stupid shit like that to kiss me”

Mina was gripping the armrest, practically bouncing. “DID YOU DO IT?”

Sero groaned, rubbing his face. “I tried! And then I failed spectacularly! Fell right on the bed”

Denki wheezed. “My guy, you are so lucky you didn’t break your face.”

“Right?!” Sero laughed, shaking his head. “But get this, when I fell, I was joking like, ‘If you wanted to kiss me so bad, just do it now,’ you know, just messing with her.”

Mina’s eyes were about to pop out of her head. “AND???”

Denki was practically on the edge of his seat. “BRO, SHE DIDN’T.”

Sero ran a hand through his hair, grinning like a madman. “She did.”

Mina let out a shriek, grabbing a couch pillow and whacking Denki with it. “OH MY GOD!”

Denki was clutching his pearls like he had just been personally attacked. “Bro, bro, you actually kissed her?!”

Sero nodded, still riding the high of last night. “Well, technically, she kissed me, but yeah.”

Mina was absolutely losing it. “This is huge! Do you even realize what this means?”

“That I am the luckiest man alive?” Sero offered, waggling his eyebrows.

Denki pointed at him. “Absolutely not, you just admitted to eating carpet trying to be SpiderMan.”

Sero groaned, “i fell on my bed you dunce”

Mina grabbed his arm, shaking him slightly. “But, like, what now? Are you guys together?”

Sero’s grin faltered for a second, his brain scrambling. “Uh… I dunno? I mean, it was kinda sudden, so we didn’t talk about it yet.”

Denki let out a long, exaggerated sigh, flopping backward. “Damn. I am so proud of you, bro. But at the same time, I have never felt more single in my life.”

Mina cackled. “Denki, you are always single.”

“Yeah, but now it hurts,” Denki whined dramatically, covering his face. “All my bros are getting action and I’m over here third wheeling by myself.”

Sero rolled his eyes, throwing a pillow at him. “Dude, you can’t third wheel by yourself.”

Denki groaned. “Watch me.”

Mina sighed, shaking her head. “Denki, we gotta get you a girlfriend.”

Denki flopped onto the couch like a sad fish. “you act as if i haven’t tried”

Sero laughed, standing up and stretching. “Alright, you two losers, I gotta figure out what the hell I’m doing next. Wish me luck.”

Mina beamed. “You better keep us updated!”

Denki sat up slightly, pointing at Sero. “If you don’t make this official, I swear to God, I will actually fight you.”

Sero chuckled, giving them a lazy salute before heading toward the exit. Now all he had to do was figure out how to not mess this up. As soon as Sero stepped out of the common room, his grin dropped, and his brain immediately went into overdrive.

Oh, crap. Oh, crap. Oh, crap.

He had kissed you. Or you had kissed him. Either way, there was definite mouth on mouth action, and now he had no idea what to do with himself.

His heart was still doing that stupid, rapid fire drumming in his chest every time he replayed the moment in his head. The way you had leaned in, eyes half lidded, expression unreadable until suddenly boom. Lips. Soft. Warm. Perfect. He could still feel the ghost of it lingering on his mouth.

Sero ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. Okay, get it together, man. It’s just a kiss. A really good kiss. A potentially life changing kiss, but still just a kiss.

He needed a game plan.

But what if you regretted it? What if it was just a heat of the moment thing for you? What if you woke up this morning thinking, Wow, that was a mistake, better pretend it never happened?

Sero groaned under his breath, dragging a hand down his face. He couldn’t deal with that possibility. Not when he had spent an entire night internally combusting over how amazing it had felt.

“Dude, you good?”

Sero nearly jumped out of his skin as Kirishima appeared beside him, eyebrow raised.

“Wh yeah! Yeah, totally,” Sero replied way too fast, forcing a laugh. “Just, y’know… thinking.”

Kirishima gave him a knowing smirk. “About a certain girl in our class?”

Sero pointed at him. “i feel likenim not that obvious. I just left mina how did you you already know about this?”

Kirishima laughed, clapping him on the back. “Since our first year youve been obsessed with her.”

“stop spreading lies.” Sero sighed dramatically before groaning. “Dude, I don’t know what to do. I mean, I know I want to do something, but what if she doesn’t”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down,” Kirishima said, holding up a hand. “First of all, did she seem into it when she kissed you?”

Sero opened his mouth, then hesitated, brain flashing back to the way you had looked at him, the way you had smiled after like you meant it.

“…Yeah,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

Kirishima grinned. “Then you’re already halfway there, man. Just talk to her.”

Sero groaned again. “Why is that the hardest part?!”

Kirishima just laughed, shaking his head. “Because you like her, dude. Now quit freaking out and go see her.”

Easier said than done.

But standing around panicking wasn’t going to help, either.

So, with a deep breath, Sero nodded. “Alright. I’m doing this.”

Kirishima gave him a thumbs up. “That’s the spirit! Now go get your girl.”

Sero immediately turned around and walked straight into a doorframe.

Kirishima winced. “…Maybe start by watching where you’re going first.”

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑

you showed up, red faced and flustered, practically vibrating with leftover emotions from last night.

“I kissed him,” you blurted, gripping the sides of your head. “I we kissed! Oh my god, I actually did that.”

“Wait, wait, wait hold on,” Kirishima said, holding up his hands like he needed to physically stop you from overwhelming yourself. With his previous conversation with sero, It was so obvious how much you both liked each other. Very adorable type shit. His red eyes were wide with excitement. “You kissed Sero? Like, for real?”

“Yes! No wait, yes, but ugh, I don’t even know how it happened”

“You just said you kissed him, dumbass,” Bakugo cut in, scowling as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Make up your damn mind.”

You shot him a glare, feeling the heat rush to your face again. “I know what I said, but it happened so fast! He was being all smug, and then I said ‘fuck it’ and did it but then he just looked at me, and I think my soul left my body”

Kirishima gasped. “Dude.”

“Shut up,” Bakugo groaned, rolling his eyes. “You’re talking in circles.”

“But it was so sudden! I wasn’t thinking!” you continued, waving your hands around. “And now I don’t even know what we are! Are we together? Are we not? I left before we could even talk about it was that dumb?!”

“Yes,” Bakugo deadpanned.

“No,” Kirishima said at the same time, sending Bakugo a disapproving look before turning back to you. “Look, you’re clearly freaking out, but this is great news! You guys finally kissed! That’s huge!”

“Yeah, yeah, good for you,” Bakugo muttered. “Now shut the hell up about it.”

You shot him an incredulous look. “Excuse you?”

“You’re acting like a damn extra,” he snapped. “Freaking out over one kiss? You sound stupid.”

Your jaw dropped. “One kiss?! Bakugo, do you know how big of a deal this is?! This could change everything!”

“Then man up and deal with it!”

Your eye twitched. “youre such a dick, did you not learn manners or did your prissy rich boy ass never learn discipline!”

Bakugo’s face immediately darkened. “Oh, you little!”

Before you could even process what was happening, he lunged at you.

The next thing anyone knew, the peaceful morning atmosphere of the dorms was shattered as the two of you started brawling in the middle of the hallway.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” Kirishima shouted, hands on his head. “IT IS TOO EARLY FOR THIS!”

You ducked as Bakugo swung at you, his explosive palms barely missing your shoulder. “YOU WANNA GO, SPARKLER? LET’S GO!”

“I’M ALREADY GOING!” Bakugo snarled, throwing another punch.

Students peeked out of their dorm rooms, most of them sighing as if this was the least surprising thing to wake up to.

“Guys!” Kirishima tried again, stepping between you two. “This is not how we handle our emotions!”

“I’LL SHOW YOU HOW I HANDLE EMOTIONS!” you snapped, dodging to the side and attempting to kick Bakugo’s leg out from under him.

He jumped back, grinning like a maniac. “Ohhh, you’re dead now!”

“CAN WE PLEASE HAVE ONE NORMAL MORNING?!” Kirishima begged.

The answer was clearly no, because by then, you and Bakugo were full on wrestling in the hallway, ignoring the way half of Class was now watching with varying levels of amusement.

Kirishima sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before clapping his hands together. “Okay. Fine. You guys are definitely gonna work this out”

“BY ME KICKING HER ASS”

“LIKE MATURE ADULTS,” Kirishima finished, dragging both of you apart with his insane strength. “Now, breathe. Both of you.”

Bakugo huffed, still glaring at you. You glared right back.

“Good,” Kirishima said, nodding. “Now, let’s try again calmly. You, tell Bakugo why you’re freaking out.”

You crossed your arms. “Because I kissed Sero, and now I don’t know what to do!”

Kirishima gave Bakugo a look. “And you how would you calmly respond to that?”

Bakugo rolled his eyes but sighed heavily. “Man up and talk to him, dumbass.”

Your eye twitched again, but Kirishima shot you a warning look before you could lunge at him again.

“Okay!” Kirishima said, clapping his hands. “Progress!”

You huffed, finally stepping back. “Fine. Maybe I will talk to him.”

“Yeah, do that instead of screaming about it like a moron,” Bakugo muttered, rubbing his knuckles.

Kirishima let out a long suffering sigh but patted your shoulder encouragingly. “Hey, at least you got your first kiss, right? That’s awesome!”

You exhaled sharply, your frustration fading just a little. “…Yeah. I guess it was kind of awesome.”

Kirishima beamed. “See? Now go figure out what’s next!”

You nodded, turning to leave only for Bakugo to call out, “And next time, don’t start yelling at me at seven in the damn morning!”

You flipped him off over your shoulder. “BITE ME, BAKUGO.”

“WITH PLEASURE,” he yelled back.

Kirishima groaned. “Why are you guys like this?!”

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑

Sero had never felt more like a dumbass in his life.

He was pacing the dorm hallway, chewing on his lip, hands in his hair like that would somehow help his brain work better.

What the hell was he supposed to do?!

He’d talked a big game in the common room, but the second he was alone, reality hit him like a truck. The kiss had happened. You had kissed him. And now, every time he thought about it, his heart did this stupid, erratic thing, and his stomach felt like it was flipping over itself.

He wanted to talk to you. He needed to talk to you. But what if you were freaking out? What if you regretted it?

“Sero!”

He nearly jumped out of his skin when Kirishima’s voice called out to him.

“Dude, what are you doing?” Kirishima asked, raising an eyebrow as he walked up.

Sero immediately tried to play it cool, leaning against the wall like he wasn’t just spiraling five seconds ago. “Oh, y’know. Just… getting some fresh air.”

Kirishima gave him a deadpan look. “We’re inside.”

Sero groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Alright, fine! I don’t know what to do, man!”

Kirishima clapped a hand on his shoulder, grinning. “So, I might have just talked to her.”

Sero’s entire body went rigid. “You what?”

“Relax, bro, she doesn’t know we’re talking.” Kirishima laughed at the absolute panic on his face. “But I do know she’s freaking out just as much as you are.”

Sero blinked. “…She is?”

“Dude, yes.” Kirishima squeezed his shoulder. “Look, I’m not gonna tell you what she said, but I will say this be a man and talk to her.”

Sero groaned again. “Why is everyone saying that?! I know I need to talk to her, but what if I say the wrong thing?”

“Then you say the wrong thing,” Kirishima shrugged. “But at least you’re saying something.”

Sero exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. “…Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

“Damn right I’m right.” Kirishima grinned, patting his back. “Now go before you start spiraling again.”

Sero rolled his eyes but grinned anyway. “Thanks, man.”

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑

you dramatically leaned back on the couch, arms spread wide, and declared, “Hawks is so fine, it’s actually unfair.”

Across from you, Ochako snorted into her drink while Iida sighed, rubbing his temples as if he could physically remove himself from this conversation. Deku, on the other hand, just looked mildly distressed.

“Again with this?” Iida groaned. “How many times must we discuss your questionable taste in Pro Heroes?”

The U.A. dorm lounge was a place of peace, a sanctuary for students to unwind after long days of training and classes. Though you cant help but say your thoughts in such a safe place.

“Uh, first of all,” you said, pointing at him, “there’s nothing questionable about it. Hawks is objectively hot. Everyone knows it.”

Deku cleared his throat awkwardly. “I mean… I guess I can see why people think he’s cool, but”

“C’mon, Deku,” you said, exasperated. “you’ve worked with him before AND you cant tell me that you didn’t even get a little nervous It’s giving angelic bad boy, i just need a day with him really ”

Ochako giggled. “You sound so gross. but i cant say youre not wrong”

“EXACTLY ,” you srespond. “But wait, there’s more! Present Mic? That man could ruin my eardrums, and I’d thank him.”

Iida choked on his tea, while Deku’s face scrunched up like he was in actual pain. “You live with him,” Deku pointed out. “Doesn’t that make it weird?”

“Absolutely not,” you said. “That just means I know exactly how amazing he is.”

Ochako bit her lip, trying not to laugh. “Anyone else?”

“Glad you asked,” you said, grinning. “All Might.”

That was it. That was the breaking point.

All three of them stared at you. No words. Just judgment.

“What?” you said, looking between their horrified expressions.

Ochako covered her mouth, shoulders shaking. Iida, for once in his life, was speechless. And Deku? Deku looked like you had just personally offended him.

“Y you” Deku struggled to form words. “All Might?!”

You raised a brow. “And? He’s All Might. He’s strong, noble, heroic”

“He’s, like, 50!” Deku cried.

“Yeah, but have you seen young All Might?” You wiggled your eyebrows. “Tall, blonde, muscles for days? C’mon.”

Deku looked two seconds away from passing out. “I I can’t I don’t even”

Iida took a deep breath, composing himself before adjusting his glasses. “Y/N, while I respect your right to admire heroes, I must say, your choices are…bewildering.”

“Ohhh, bewildering, huh?” You narrowed your eyes. “That’s real rich coming from you, Iida. And you too, Deku!” You pointed at him accusingly. “You have All Might all over your room! Posters, figures you probably have All Might bedsheets!”

Deku turned bright red. “Th that’s different! It’s admiration!”

“And what I feel isn’t?” You smirked. “Sounds like projection.”

Ochako lost it, cackling as Deku sputtered, desperately trying to defend himself. Iida just sighed heavily, shaking his head.

What none of you knew, however, was that three other students were eavesdropping from around the corner.

Mina, Denki, and Sero were crouched behind the lounge entrance, trying (and failing) to hold in their laughter.

“Oh my god,” Mina whispered. “she makes me so proud, ive rubbed off on her so well.”

Denki wiped away a fake tear. “That was beautiful.”

Sero, meanwhile, his head tilted slightly as he listened. “Man,” he muttered, shaking his head, “she’s really out here confessing her love for only blonde heroes, huh?”

Denki snorted. “Right?” He nudged Sero with his elbow. “Sorry, bro, but it looks like you gotta join the blonde side.”

Sero rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah, because that’s totally my biggest issue right now.”

Mina gasped dramatically. “Wait. Wait. What if we bleach your hair?”

“No.”

“Just a few streaks!”

“Absolutely not.”

Denki cackled. “Come on, man! It’s for the greater good!”

Sero groaned, rubbing his temples. “You guys are actually the worst.”

As the laughter from the lounge carried down the hall, Sero found himself stepping away from Mina and Denki, his grin faltering just a little as he leaned against the wall.

What the hell was he supposed to do?

He let out a heavy breath, knocking the back of his head against the wall as he stared up at the ceiling. It wasn’t like he hadn’t liked you for a while now he had. God, he had. But actually doing something about it? That was a whole different beast.

It should be easy. You two were already close, always teasing each other, always hanging out. It wasn’t like he’d never flirted before but this was you. It actually mattered this time. And after that kiss? His brain had officially checked out.

He dragged a hand down his face. “Alright. Think, dude. You’re not gonna go full Denki and make a dumbass move.”

Sero groaned, running both hands through his hair before letting them drop to his sides. His heart was hammering against his ribs, and he hated that it was just from the idea of telling you how he felt. He could fight villains, handle training, and deal with Bakugo’s explosive bullshit on a daily basis but this? This was terrifying.

Still, he had to do it. Kirishima was right. He had to man up and talk to you.

Pushing off the wall, he took a deep breath and nodded to himself.

“Alright,” he muttered. “Here goes nothing.”

And with that, he turned on his heel, heading toward the lounge toward you.

Sero had faced some pretty wild situations in his life.

He had been launched across training fields, nearly crushed by Todoroki’s ice, and once once had the unfortunate experience of getting his tape tangled with Kaminari’s electrical wires during a particularly chaotic mission.

But none of those moments compared to the sheer whiplash of what happened the second he stepped into the common room.

One second, he was approaching you, running through every possible way to casually bring up the fact that he really, really liked you.

The next, his entire face was in your hands.

He barely had time to process it before you yanked him down to your level, his knees nearly buckling as he stumbled forward. His breath hitched, and for a brief, chaotic moment, all he could do was stare.

Your fingers were squishing his cheeks, pressing into his face in a way that made his lips pout slightly. But you weren’t laughing. You weren’t teasing. You were staring, your eyes scanning his features with a level of intensity that made his brain short circuit.

Sero had never been a nervous guy. He was smooth cool, even. But there was something about the way you were studying him, your brows furrowed in deep concentration, that made him forget how to function.

“Uh,” he tried to say, but the way you were gripping his cheeks turned it into more of a muffled, “Whuh?”

You ignored him.

Instead, you slowly deliberately turned his head to face the three people sitting in front of you, all of whom were watching with expressions ranging from confusion to sheer amusement.

Ochako was biting her lip, eyes practically twinkling. Iida had a hand raised like he was about to intervene in whatever was happening. And Deku? Deku just looked utterly lost, glancing between you and Sero like he was waiting for someone to explain the rules of this bizarre situation.

You finally spoke, still holding Sero’s face hostage.

“This guy,” you declared, “gives the exact same energy as the heroes I just listed.”

There was a beat of silence.

And then:

“HUH?!”

Sero’s entire body went rigid. His brain completely shut down, the weight of your words slamming into him with the force of a cement truck.

“Oh my god,” Ochako whispered, covering her mouth in barely contained laughter.

Deku blinked rapidly. “Wait, Sero?”

Iida adjusted his glasses, clearly trying to keep his composure. “Y/N, I fail to see how”

“Tall? Check,” you continued, fingers still smooshed into Sero’s face as you tilted his head slightly for examination. “Effortlessly cool? Double check.”

Sero made a strangled noise in the back of his throat.

“Kind of a little shit but in a charming way?” You smirked. “Yeah. This man is Hawks… well hawks doesn’t have the tall part.”

Ochako full on giggled. “Oh my god, you’re right.”

Deku looked bewildered. “Wait, what about Present Mic?”

“Oh, easy.” You dramatically gestured toward Sero’s usual lazy grin though at the moment, it was more panicked. “Loud, funny, and way too charismatic for his own good?”

“HEY”

“Textbook Present Mic,” you confirmed.

Sero opened his mouth to protest only to immediately shut it when you tilted his head again, considering.

“And All Might?” Iida asked, raising an eyebrow.

You hummed, tilting your head before nodding. “It’s the natural hero vibes.”

Sero sputtered. “I what does that even mean?!”

“It means you’re effortlessly cool, you make people feel comfortable ” you said, grinning up at him. “And you know it.”

Effortlessly cool. Cool. COOL. You felt… safe around him?

Sero was going to combust.

And then, as if to seal his fate, you finally let go of his face only for him to immediately lose his balance.

He had been standing behind the couch when you grabbed him, leaning slightly forward to accommodate your grip. But now that you had released him, his brain was still buffering which meant his body had absolutely no idea what to do.

His foot slid slightly. His balance tilted. And before he could catch himself

“Whoa!”

With all the grace of an inflatable tube man in a hurricane, Sero flopped forward, collapsing over the back of the couch with a truly undignified squawk. His legs stayed standing, but his torso draped over the cushions, his arms sprawled out as his face planted directly onto Ochako’s lap.

“Oh my god,” Ochako wheezed, shaking with laughter. Iida pinched the bridge of his nose. Deku just stared.

Your laughter rang through the room, your body folding in half as you slapped your knee. “Bro. Are you good?”

Sero groaned into Ochako’s lap, muffled by the fabric of her sweatpants. “No. I am not good.”

“You were trying to be cool, huh?” Ochako teased, giggling as she patted his back.

“Shut up, Uraraka,” he muttered, voice still slightly strangled.

You grinned down at him, leaning over the armrest. “Aw, c’mon, Sero. You’re still cool in my book.”

Oh.

Oh, he was so done for.

Still draped over the couch like a defeated man, Sero let out a long, suffering sigh before finally lifting his head to look at you. His face was red undeniably, traitorously red but he still forced his signature grin, resting his chin in his hand as he met your gaze.

“So, uh,” he drawled, voice only slightly shaky, “just to be clear… you do think I’m hot, then?”

Your smirk widened. “Sero. My guy. I’ve been saying this.”

Sero inhaled sharply. “Huh.”

He nodded once. Thought about his life choices. Then nodded again.

“Alright,” he said, voice cracking slightly. “Cool. That’s, uh… that’s good to know.”

You were just grinning.

Because at the end of the day, there was nothing more satisfying than flustering Hanta Sero.

On the other hand his whole life was flashing through his eyes, well all the embarrassing parts. Dangling from his own tape mid training? Yeah. Getting slammed into a wall by Kirishima during a sparring match? Absolutely. Accidentally sticking himself to the ceiling during first year combat trials? Embarrassing, but yes.

Now, Still draped over the back of the couch, he had tried to adjust himself tried being the key word only to realize that when he fell, he hadn’t just landed on Ochako’s lap. No, that would’ve been fine. That would’ve been recoverable.

Instead, in a cruel twist of fate, he had ended up sprawled across you.

Now, his upper body was half squished against your chest, his arms awkwardly pressed into the cushions beside you, and his legs were still somehow dangling behind him, propped up against the back of the couch in a way that defied physics.

He did not know how he ended up here. But what was worse? You weren’t moving. You weren’t shoving him off. You weren’t telling him to get it together. You weren’t doing anything except sitting there, your expression unreadable, as if you weren’t completely aware of the fact that his face was currently way too close to yours.

The silence stretched. The tension? Thick.

Sero gulped. “Sooo…”

Ochako snorted. Iida rubbed his temples like he was praying for patience. Deku who had been watching all of this unfold just shook his head and sighed.

“I think,” Deku said carefully, standing from his seat, “we should… probably go.”

Iida nodded, adjusting his glasses. “Agreed.”

Ochako stretched her arms over her head, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, you two look busy.”

Sero’s brain completely derailed. “Wait, wh”

Before he could even try to salvage his dignity, the three of them were already gone, vanishing around the corner with suspiciously amused expressions.

It was just you and him.

Sero slowly, slowly turned his head to look at you, eyes wide. “Uh.”

You raised a brow. “What?”

“You’re… not gonna push me off?”

“Eh.” You shrugged. “You’re warm.”

Sero nearly died on the spot.

His heart slammed against his ribs, his brain suddenly incapable of forming coherent thoughts. Warm. You liked this? You were fine with this?

He did not know what to do with that information.

“…You good?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.

“Yeah.” He nodded quickly. “Totally. Totally good.”

A pause.

Then, as if this was just another normal conversation, you casually went, “Wanna go into town with me today?”

Sero blinked. “Huh?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes as you finally sat up, forcing him to shift slightly so you weren’t both in a tangled mess of limbs. “I was thinking of heading into the city for a bit,” you explained. “Figured it’d be fun to have some company.”

Sero’s brain, still recovering from the absolute whiplash of the last five minutes, struggled to catch up. “Oh. Uh yeah, sure.”

You grinned. “Cool.”

And just like that, you stretched, standing up as if nothing had happened, before strolling toward the dorm entrance.

Sero, still awkwardly perched on the couch, blinked after you.

It wasn’t until you were already halfway down the hall that realization smacked him in the face.

Wait.

Did I just… agree to a date?

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑

The moment you shut your bedroom door behind you, your entire body locked up.

Your reflection in the mirror stared back at you, wide eyed, mouth slightly open in shock.

Did I just?

You pointed at yourself accusingly.

“Did I just ask Hanta out?!”

Silence.

Your reflection, unhelpfully, did not respond.

You grabbed the nearest pillow and screamed into it.

What was that?! What possessed you to casually throw out an invitation like that? Sure, you wanted to hang out but you literally could have asked anyone! Anyone! But nooo, you had to invite Sero the same guy you’d been freaking out about all morning, the same guy who had landed on you just minutes ago, the same guy who had been so close that you could feel his breath

Your hands flew to your face as you let out a muffled groan.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. “I asked him out. I actually asked him out.”

Your brain was short circuiting.

And worst of all?

He said yes.

He actually said yes.

And what did that mean?

Did he know what he just agreed to? Was this a date to him, too? Or was he just thinking of it as a casual hangout? Was he panicking as much as you were right now? Or was he just being all cool and Sero about it?

You groaned again, aggressively yanking open your closet. No time to panic. You have to get ready.

You sifted through your clothes at lightning speed, heart racing. What do you wear on a maybe but also maybe not date? You couldn’t go too fancy that would be too obvious. But you also couldn’t dress like a total slob that would be not obvious enough.

You finally settled on something nice but casual, throwing it on in record time before rushing to the mirror again.

Your hair A mess. You moderately fixed it.

Your face? Red. Ugh.

You slapped your cheeks lightly, taking a deep breath.

“Okay,” you muttered, staring yourself down. “It’s fine. It’s fine. You’re just hanging out with Sero. It’s totally normal. Not a big deal.”

Pause.

“…Except it is a big deal because you freaking like him”

You shoved that thought away, shaking your head furiously. Nope. Nope. Not going there right now.

Instead, you grabbed your phone, took one last deep breath, and bolted out the door trying very hard to ignore the way your heart was pounding at the thought of seeing him again.

By the time you made it downstairs, your nerves were still running wild. You had done everything possible to convince yourself this wasn’t a big deal this was just hanging out but the second you spotted Sero waiting by the door, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, your heart stuttered.

Because he looked jittery.

His hands were shoved deep into his hoodie pockets, his shoulders slightly tense, and his eyes darted around as if he couldn’t decide where to look. The moment he saw you, though, his entire body stiffened for half a second just barely noticeable before he forced himself to relax, throwing you a casual grin.

“Hey,” you said, hoping your voice didn’t give you away.

“Hey,” he echoed, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

For a moment, you both just stood there.

Then, at the same time

“So, uh”

“Are we”

Both of you stopped. Blinking.

Then, awkward laughter.

“Sorry, you go first,” Sero said, rubbing the back of his neck.

You shook your head, waving him off. “Nah, wasn’t important. What were you gonna say?”

His fingers curled tighter around the fabric of his hoodie. “Uh… just are we walking anywhere in particular? Or are we just kinda…?”

You shrugged, stuffing your hands into your own pockets to keep from fidgeting. “Let’s just go. See where the day takes us.”

A beat of silence.

Sero’s mouth curled into a tiny, lopsided smile. “Sounds good.”

Wandering aimlessly through the city turned out to be perfect. At first, the conversation stayed light harmless jokes and casual observations, your usual banter keeping things effortless. The tension from earlier? Gone. Neither of you had to try around each other, and that was the best part.

At one point, you both stopped at a street vendor selling taiyaki, and after a debate over which filling was superior (chocolate, obviously), you decided to split one.

Sero took the first bite, chewing thoughtfully before tilting his head.

“Actually” he took another bite, slow and deliberate, “no, this sucks. You should probably just let me have the rest.”

Your mouth fell open. “You little”

Before he could react, you lunged, snatching the taiyaki right from his hands.

“Not a chance,” you said, taking a victorious bite.

Sero gaped at you. “You thief.”

“It’s called justice!”

“You’re literally eating my taiyaki!”

“You didn’t even pay for it!”

“Details.”

You grinned, savoring the taste until suddenly, fingers dug into your sides.

You yelped.

Sero snickered, tickling your waist just enough to make you squirm. “What’s that? You say I deserve it back?”

“SER-STOP” You nearly choked on your food, smacking at his arm. “THAT’S CHEATING!”

He just laughed, stepping back with a smug look. “All’s fair in love and taiyaki.”

Your face flamed. “Excuse me?!”

He blinked. Then, as if realizing what he just said, his expression froze for a split second before he quickly looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I I meant, uh”

“Oh my god, Sero.”

He let out a nervous chuckle, eyes darting anywhere but at you.

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑

Then came the shopping stalls.

You had stopped at a small pop up stand, sifting through a collection of keychains when Sero, standing beside you, casually held one up.

It was a tiny cat, hanging from a silver loop, its little paws outstretched like it was reaching for something.

“Hey, you like this one?”

You turned your head, about to answer, only to see Sero already pulling out his wallet.

“Wait, no” You slapped a hand over his. “Nope.”

He blinked. “Huh?”

In a flash, you grabbed the keychain from his fingers, shoved a few bills at the vendor, and smirked as you stuffed it into your pocket.

“Ha!” you said triumphantly. “Beat you to it.”

Sero stared at you.. “hey let me be chivalrous.”

“i can be a chivalrous one from time to time”

He narrowed his eyes. “Okay. It’s on now.”

The rest of the day turned into a battle to see who could pay for things first.

Sero managed to stealthily buy your drink while you weren’t looking.

You shoved money at a vendor mid Sero’s sentence, just to spite him.

He tried to sneak some money in your bag to pay you back for a snack you bought, but you refused to accept it.

It escalated so much that one poor vendor actually looked between you two, utterly confused as you both shoved money toward them, trying to pay first.

By the time the sun started dipping below the buildings, you were laughing breathless, exhausted, and completely out of small bills.

Sero let out a dramatic sigh, slumping against a railing. “You exhaust me.”

You grinned, nudging him with your elbow. “You love it.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah.”

The city lights flickered on, illuminating the streets in warm glows. For a moment, you both just stood there, watching the world move around you.

When you glanced at him, you noticed his fingers twitching just barely like he wanted to reach for something but wasn’t sure if he should.

You turned back toward the street, your pulse oddly fast. The way he looked at you? The soft grin on his lips, the warmth in his gaze? It made you think that maybe… just maybe… he didn’t mind so much after all.

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑

The city lights shimmered in the distance as you and Sero stood just outside the dorms, the warm glow of the entrance lights casting long shadows across the pavement. The evening air was crisp, a gentle breeze ruffling Sero’s dark hair as he shoved his hands in his pockets, shifting his weight slightly. He looked… hesitant, which wasn’t like him.

“So…” he started, voice casual but laced with something uncertain. His dark eyes flickered toward yours. “Was today, like… a date?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“I mean” He gestured between the two of you, his expression caught somewhere between amused and serious. “We went out, just us, got food, fed each other”

“You fed me too!” you cut in, arms crossing defensively.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he said with a chuckle, “but that’s my point! It kinda felt like a date, but I don’t remember you actually saying it was one.”

Your lips parted slightly, your brain scrambling for a response. Then, after a beat, you muttered, “Wasn’t it obvious?”

Sero raised an eyebrow, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. “Usually you have to say it’s a date for it to be one.”

You opened your mouth, then shut it.…Okay, fair point.

The smug look on his face made your own heat up with embarrassment.

“So, what, you just accidentally took me on a date?” he teased, his voice light but his gaze fixed on you, watching your reaction.

You groaned, tilting your head back dramatically before burying your face in your hands for a second. Then, dropping them to your sides, you sighed. “Fine! Yes, it was a date, okay? You happy now?”

Sero beamed, looking very pleased with himself. “Very.”

You huffed, glancing away, but you couldn’t fight the small smile creeping onto your lips.

A thought struck you, and before you could stop yourself, you blurted, “Y’know, I really wanted to do the Spider Man kiss today.”

Sero, who had still been grinning at you, suddenly froze. “Wait what?”

You turned back to him, arms crossing again. “You know. The classic upside down kiss. Missed opportunity.”

He just stared at you, his brain clearly buffering.

Then, after a moment, he ran a hand down his face with a breathy laugh. “You really wanted to do that, huh?”

“Uh, yeah,” you said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “It would’ve been really… cute i think.”

Sero eyed you for a second, then, with a sudden spark of mischief, he took a step closer. His voice dipped, teasing yet playful. “Well,” he murmured, “no rule says we can’t do it now.”

Your heart skipped.

Then, you smirked. “Okay. But we gotta do it right.”

Sero rolled his eyes but still stepped back, already reaching for his arm. “Fine, fine.” With the ease of someone who had used his quirk a thousand times over, he shot a long strip of tape toward the awning above the dorm entrance, testing its hold before glancing at you.

“You better catch me if I fall,” he muttered, already pulling himself up.

You grinned. “No promises.”

Within seconds, he was suspended upside down, his dark hair falling freely as he swayed slightly. The angle made him blink rapidly, clearly thrown off. “Okay, this is way more disorienting than I thought.”

You stifled a giggle, stepping closer until his face was inches from yours. “You look ridiculous.”

“Yeah, yeah, are you kissing me or what?”

You rolled your eyes fondly before reaching up, gently cupping his face. His breath hitched slightly, his dark eyes flickering from yours to your lips.

And then, closing the gap, you kissed him.

It was soft at first, hesitant as you adjusted to the angle, but then Sero melted into it. His lips moved against yours, warm and sure, despite his upside down position. The sheer ridiculousness of the situation him suspended in midair, you leaning up to meet him only made it better.

When you finally pulled away, Sero let out a breathless chuckle. “That… was pretty cool.”

You smirked, poking his cheek. “Told you.”

He sighed dramatically, grabbing onto his tape to lower himself down. The moment his feet hit the ground, he stretched his arms above his head with a content grin.

“So,” he mused, rolling his shoulders. “Does that officially make this a date?”

You smirked, arms crossed. “I don’t know.”

He narrowed his eyes playfully. “Seriously?”

You shrugged, teasing. “You usually have to say it’s a date for it to be one, right?”

Sero let out an exasperated laugh, shaking his head. “Alright, alright, I get it!” Then, with a small grin, he leaned in just slightly, his voice softer. “So, you wanna go out with me? Officially?”

Your heart skipped, but you matched his grin, feeling the warmth of the night air between you both.

“Obviously.”

[In the dorm common room, the morning after the kiss.]

Denki: So, let me get this straight you kissed him?

You: …Yes?

Sero: She just couldn’t resist me.

You: Oh my god—

Denki: Bro, I’m so proud of you… but also deeply envious.

Mina: I cant even lie you pulled the baddie of the class, im so bummed on this

Denki: WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN?!

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance

Saiki Kusuo x Non-Binary! Reader

Book 1

Follows the events of Season One

Prologue: Troublesome "Friends"

Chapter One: Girl Problems and Beach Woes

Chapter Two: Ghosts and Guardians

Chapter Three: Sports Festival

Chapter Four: Safety Drills and Clairvoyants

Chapter Five: Ramen Shops

Chapter Six: Christmas Eve

Chapter Seven: New Year's Day

Chapter Eight: Valentine’s Day Chaos and Movie Night Misunderstandings

Chapter Nine: Mothers and Meetups

Chapter Ten: Traveling to Okinawa

Chapter Eleven: Accidents and Reveals

Chapter Twelve: Insecurities and Sweets

Chapter Thirteen: Punk Transfer

Chapter Fourteen: Festival Display

Chapter Fifteen: Festival Problems

Chapter Sixteen: Taking Teruhashi Out (on a Not-Date)

Chapter Seventeen: Delinquent Run-In and Teruhashi’s Home-Visit

Chapter Eighteen: Karaoke Party

Chapter Nineteen: Toritsuka’s Possessions and Club

Chapter Twenty: Crepes and Breaks

Chapter Twenty-One: Adventures in London

Chapter Twenty-Two: Summer Break Days

Chapter Twenty-Three: Rich Transfer Trouble

Chapter Twenty-Four: Celebrations

Book 2:

Follows the Events of Season Two

Prologue: Relationships

Chapter One: Cafes and Clothes

Chapter Two: Saiko's Mansion

To be continued...

Specials:

Pride Specials: 2024

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@thelameone101

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❝i am half-agony, half-hope. . . i have loved none but you.❞

summary: how the marauders loved you in their time. featuring harry potter the time-traveller and sixth-wheel.

pairing/s: poly!marauders + lily x reader.

tags: reader is referred to as she/her and a mother throughout the whole fic[!], reader is a violent gremlin who craves blood but the marauders love you for that, implied child abuse[!], mentions of blood and violence[!], disgustingly sappy poetic fluff, no angst, happy ending, not proofread we die like finnick odair, edited: very minor detail.

note: there is little plot, it’s just the marauders and their adoration for you. thank you all so much for your kind responses to my first marauders fic :(( ilysm! i hope you enjoy this one as well! because there are parts when i was writing that i ended up kicking my feet in the air and smiling to myself.

“MY NAME IS HARRY POTTER. I come from twenty-years in the future, you’re my mum — one of my ‘em, actually. It’s complicated. And you’re married to James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black.” 

You blink. 

“Get the fuck out of my room!” 

Harry James Potter has dodged many things in his life. Killing curses, jinxes, girls, Draco Malfoy, and Dudley’s sloppy punches, but he’s never had to dodge his sixteen-year-old mother’s fuzzy slipper before. (Godric, that sounds weird, even in his head.) He doesn’t know precisely how he arrived here. In the Slytherin common room, to be exact, in your dorm. Harry remembers duelling with Death Eaters, Hermione calling his name, and a flash of light hitting him square in the chest, then he remembers waking up in the cold tiles of the snake dungeon. He nearly throws himself off the window when he meets your eyes, bleary from interrupted sleep — it’s not often he gets to meet [read: one of] his dead parents, after all, three had been brutally murdered by Voldemort, and one killed by his own loony cousin. He misses Sirius, though. A lot. And right about now, he could do with some of Hermione’s nagging and brilliant plan-making. 

At present — or past, Harry guesses — he watches you scramble out from your duvet, hand clumsily reaching for your wand as you snarl at him. He wonders if his mother knows that he’s encountered other creatures far more threatening than her. Oh shit, he realizes with all the forces of an angry Hermione Granger, isn’t this the last thing he’s supposed to do? But, well, Harry has given, and given, so much of himself all for the greater good — just this once, he’d like to see his parents alive and well. Even if they were currently trying to blast him into the walls. 

“If you’d just let me explain, mum—!” Harry pleads, nearly dropping his glasses after dodging one of your stinging hexes. Godric, you’re crazy. “Please!” 

“Stop calling me that!” You screech, eyes set ablaze.  Harry finds that you’re quite dynamic with your attacks. A hairbrush, followed by a stinging jinx, then a thick History of Magic textbook — which rudely hits him in the face, but he doesn’t dare complain because you’re his mother, and he’s respectful like that — and after you’ve exhausted your breath, running him into a corner, and your nostrils flare with the stubbornness of a lion, you point the tip of your wand at him. “If this is another one of the Prewett’s shitty pranks, I want you to leave! You are in the girls’ dormitory beyond midnight, and so help me, if you aren’t walking out that door in the next five seconds, I will kill you and string you up by your bottoms for everyone in school to see! Maybe all your stupid rumours of me being a Death-Eater might come true after all!” 

“You’re a Death-Eater?” Harry asks dumbly. 

You growl furiously, and Harry figures that was not the right thing to say. “I wonder what McGonagall would say if I delivered your head to her on a silver platter.” 

“Professor,” Harry corrects with a toothy grin. “Professor McGonagall.” 

You slam his head against the wall.

Definitely the wrong thing to say. 

Harry groans, little Dobby heads floating around his vision. Why was this so much harder than actually facing Voldemort? Quick, he needed to think of something, otherwise he’d end up eviscerated to ashes on your cold, stone floors. Harry is pretty sure you’d use his remains as decoration to send off a message to your enemies. 

“You hate your father,” Harry slurs through the pain, remembering Remus’s stories of how you were the gentlest magical being he’s ever had the privilege to love — now that Harry thinks about it, Remus was being extremely biased, nothing about you is gentle at all. “He’s forcing you to marry someone old enough to be your grandfather. You love to read Muggle literature but had to stop when your father burnt your whole collection of books. Your favorite novel is Persuasion by Jane Austen. It’s the one book you carry with you everywhere, you could never get tired of it.”  

Your grip on his shoulders falters, but the fury in your eyes crackles. “This isn’t funny.” 

“It’s not meant to be funny, mum,” Harry croaks, voice cracking pathetically — strange how this is the most he’s ever uttered the word, mum; it’s a peculiar string of letters, foreign on his tongue. “You have tremors in your left leg from when your father cast the Cruciatus curse on you. One of your dearest friends is a Hogwarts house-elf named Pipley. You cheated on your Transfiguration essay once, and—” 

“That’s enough!” You bark, eyes narrowed in dangerous slits. “I don’t know where you heard those from, you creepy, little stalker, but if you want to keep breathing, then I suggest you shut up.” 

Harry scoffs — you don’t understand. Everything he’s learned about you is from Sirius and Remus. They talk about you with whispered devotion, your name like a prayer on their lips, their eyes glazed with wistfulness as though they could see you reaching out for them — but you were dead in Harry’s time. Yet, you might as well have been alive with their tales of you. 

(“She’s a different kind of beautiful,” Sirius had said, a year after breaking out from Azkaban, sitting by the fire in Grimmauld Place, taking a swig of decade-old firewhiskey, “The kind of beautiful you don’t want to take your eyes off from because you’re afraid she’ll disappear from your eyes. But you won’t forget her, oh no, you’ll memorize the freckles and moles on her skin, the scars from her years, the light in her eyes, and the way she holds her head up high. You should have seen her, James, she. . . she was — is glorious.”) 

“I told you,” says Harry firmly — although he loves his mother very much, she’s beginning to wear him out, “My name is Harry James Potter, I come from twenty-years in the future. You are one of my parents.” A lightbulb flashes in his head. He squirms in your hold, reaching for his robe pocket until he finds the thing he’s looking for. Harry dangles the ring in front of you, grinning in success when your eyes flash in recognition. “It’s—” 

“A family heirloom,” You say breathlessly. The alexandrite winks under the light, a familiar gold band with the Latin inscription of your House words. “Where did you steal this from?” 

Harry rolls his eyes. “You left it for me in my Gringotts vault. It’s my heirloom now. You have to believe me, there’s no way you can deny this.” 

You take a step backwards, nibbling on your lower lip, as you stagger to your bed — Harry nearly stumbling to catch you in case you fell; adjusting to the living proof of time travel was quite difficult, he, of all people, should know. He exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “Magic, amirite?” 

You throw a pillow at him, which he catches gracefully thanks to his Seeker reflexes, as you plop down in the comforts of your quilts. “Sleep. The other girls won’t be back until the end of the holiday. We can deal with whatever this is in the morning. It’s way too early for me to process the idea of a future Potter spawn following me around.” 

Harry smiles. “Yes, mum.” 

ONE THING THAT his fathers failed to tell him about you, and that Harry had to learn himself, was that you took ages to get ready. You sat on the chair in front of your vanity mirror, the birch wood legs whittled with snakes, and it was as though you had a Sticking Charm on the cushion. Harry didn’t know there could be so many creams, oils, and serums, and powders one put on their face. He blanches when you turn to offer him a cream for his under eyes. (“Suit yourself.” You shrug, turning to brush your cheek with dusts of pink. “Just saying, those dark circles aren’t doing you any favors.”)

“What am I like in the future?” You ask, a kind lilt to your voice, much like a warm hug, much like home. 

Harry stiffens, shoving his hands in pockets of the robes that were twice his size — you had given him the garments of Lucius Malfoy to change in, which you apparently had stolen from his room. It’s come full circle, really, the Sorting Hat had once told him he would be great in Slytherin, and now here he was, looking fabulous in green — because he was about to hurl at the feel of the velvet on his skin, knowing slimy Lucius Malfoy had worn it. (“No son—” You pause with a tight purse in your lips, as if you still can’t accept the fact. Harry doesn’t blame you. “—no son of mine will be parading around in red of all colors, future or not.” And Harry finds that he really doesn’t care, so long as you call him your son.)  

“Loved,” replies Harry gruffly, avoiding your eyes in the reflection of your mirror — they were piercing. One look and Harry wanted to spill all of his deepest, darkest secrets. He remembers the photographs in his album, the one he’s stared at so many times as a child. It’s a moving photograph of the five of you, fresh out of Hogwarts, each wearing a smile that stretched from ear-to-ear. Before Sirius and Remus, it was the only semblance of proof that Harry had — that you had once been alive. Remus is holding you by the waist in the picture, twirling you around as autumn leaves fell. You were — are — loved, and Harry thinks there’s no better description than that. 

(“I bloody hated her cat,” says Remus with a roguish quirk to his lips, regalling Harry with more talks of his parents. “Sirius, too. We just never got along with the little creature. But your mother loved it, and we would have done anything to make her happy. She deserved it, you see. She deserved more than what I had to offer her, but still she chose me anyway. And I am a selfish man, Harry, I crave glimpses of her and the whispers of her voice. She has made me a mad man whose only reprieve is her touch.”) 

You hum knowingly. “Stupid question, I guess. Since you aren’t allowed to reveal anything more about the future.” You sigh, gracefully threading your arms in the sleeves of your shirt, a green tie in the center of your collar. “Except, of course, when you gave me a heart attack in the middle of the night by telling me the last thing I want to become — no offense, I just don’t see how a relationship with those rowdy bunch would work. They get on my nerves far too much for me to ever feel anything other than disgust.” 

Harry doesn’t need a mirror to see that his expression has contorted in confusion; brows knitted and upper lip crinkled. By their memories of you, you all were madly in love in Hogwarts. Damn. This just made his trip to the past a lot harder. No maze seems to be ever just a maze. 

Luckily, you don’t notice him brewing a grand master plan to bring his parents together. Instead, you say, “But you don’t seem to be phased by any of this. If I had been thrown twenty years into the past, I would have puked my guts out twice at some point.” 

“Thanks for the image,” says Harry with a scowl. Truthfully, it had either been a present with a noseless Dark Lord to face, trauma to unpack but really never have the chance to, or a past where all of his parents were alive, and a chance to talk with them for however long he has. He knows where he’ll be staying, thank you very much. 

“Anytime,” You reply with an impish smile. 

Your heels pad across the floor as you walk over to him, mouth clicking as you pat the top of his head, full of wild, untameable Potter hair. “You need a trim soon,” You mutter, frowning, as you brush the thick strands away from his eyes, then you gasp — and Harry knows exactly what’s coming next. “Oh, you’ve got Evans’s eyes. That’s freaky.” 

“I know.” Harry grins. 

“Here’s the plan,” You say as you lead him out of your room, making sure no one saw him walking out of your door and getting the wrong impression — because that would be so wrong on many levels, but also, explaining to someone else that the person beside you was a time-traveller was just complicated in general. The Slytherin dungeon is unfamiliarly familiar, eerily quiet, as the two of you made your way out. “Just say you’re Potter’s distant relative, twice or thrice removed, and you’ve always been here. If you lie to their faces enough, they’ll believe it eventually.” 

“Will that work?” Harry doesn’t really mind — he needs a connection to James, his father, if he’s going to work out a connection between you and the others, because at the moment, it doesn’t seem like you’re too fond of them. There’s a tick on your jaw every time you mumble the word, Potter. Nevertheless, Harry decides he’s going to spend the duration of the holiday break trying to set you up with them — on the list of most insane things he’s ever done, living out the Parent Trap was high up the tally. 

You shrug. “They’ve fallen for less.” 

(“She’s got this adorable habit when she lies,” Sirius tells Harry, whipping up a stack of pancakes for their breakfast — Remus browsing through the morning paper. It’s the closest he’s ever been to a normal family. “It’s not obvious to her, of course, but I know her more than I know my own name. So we play along with it.” For a moment, he stops drizzling the maple syrup on the well-cooked batter, gazing at Remus fondly. “D’you remember that, Moony? She led us straight to one of her pranks, and we ended up covered in slug slime. She was so obvious — with her adorable fucking giggles. I need help with Charms, she said, and we knew right away it was a set-up. But it didn’t matter. I’d happily let her lead me to my ruin.”)  

The Great Hall is the same as Harry remembers. Now that most have returned home for the holidays, those who stay back mingle with students from other Houses, sharing meals under the bewitched ceiling, their low murmurs and hushed Christmas greetings bouncing off the walls. Harry scours the four tables to find a hint of blazing red hair, or the scent of impending trouble. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to search very far. As fate would have it, James Potter finds you — and where he is, Sirius Black is sure to follow. 

You’re barely seated when James comes bounding over to your table — more precisely, he struts, and Harry is horrified to ever be proven wrong by Snape, of all people. He ignores the roll of your eyes as he drags a leg over the bench, sitting to face you as Sirius occupies the space to your left before Harry can even sit down. He can’t even fathom how weird it is to see his parents as rambunctious teenagers. Lovesick, rambunctious teenagers. 

“Morning, dove.” James preens under your glare, stealing a grape from your bowl with a boyish smirk. His hair looks as though he’s ran his hand through it many times. “You look ravishing today.” 

“As always,” Sirius pipes in. “But that eyeshadow really isn’t complementing your skin tone, my darling.” 

You smile at him, right before your lips twist into a cutthroat sneer. “Piss off, Black.”

James stifles a laugh as he shovels a mass of potatoes on your plate, then pumpkin pasties, and slides a steaming cup of Dragon Well tea in front of you. 

“What the hell are you doing, Potter?” You reach over to smack his arm when he sprinkles apple slices and bacon on your breakfast. 

“What does it look like?” James smiles lopsidedly. “You need to eat more, honey.”

(In the future, Sirius will tell Harry, “It started off as a joke, a way to get on her nerves — but then, it just became this thing about taking care of her, making sure she got enough sleep before her tests, wondering if she had breakfast or dinner, staying with her in the library, walking her to the Slytherin common room, and sending her stupid notes just to make her laugh. You don’t get it, Harry. I’d give my every breath to ensure her life. We all would.” Harry doesn’t see Sirius any more during that evening, but he hears a bottle crashing against a wall, cracking into a million pieces, and the masked sound of Sirius sobbing, and Harry decides to leave him alone for the night.) 

Then, you tear your eyes away from James — he huffs, pushing your plate to you, mildly annoyed that you’ve deprived him of your eyes; they were his favorite part of you, you see, so expressive and full of life; James thinks you put the stars to shame — and thankfully, you remember that Harry still exists. You lightly smack Sirius’s leg until he gives Harry some room to sit. “Potter, meet other Potter. It’s the holidays, shouldn’t it be the perfect time to let go of House prejudices and spend time with family?” 

James looks at Harry up and down. “You must be from dad’s side of the family with all that hair.” 

Harry lets out a breath of relief. That was easy — way too easy. When he takes the vacant space in between you and Sirius, you dump all the available food on his plate, just as James had done for you. 

“Eat,” You say with a tone of finality. “You look like the wind could snap you in half.” 

“Yes, m—” Harry stops himself before he could finish his sentence, avoiding Sirius’s curious gaze. 

“Wow.” Sirius pokes Harry in the shoulder and in the cheek. “You really look like a mini-James, you’ve even got his terrible eyesight.” 

“Oi!” 

Your fork clatters against the silverware as you turn to Sirius with a shrill. “Not that I do enjoy your company — because, trust me, I do not want you here at all and would very much prefer if you got out of my sight — but why are you here? The Gryffindor table is over there. Unless your housemates finally got sick of you, Potter, which I can definitely see happening.” 

James chuckles, tossing another grape in his mouth without taking his eyes off you. “It’s as you said, isn’t it? It’s the time for putting aside House prejudices. And I think it’s a lovely day to enjoy a meal with my favorite snake.” 

“Drop dead,” You retort, digging into your chicken with a little more force than necessary. 

“Oh, dove.” James shakes his head, a teasing grin pulling at his lips. “It’s cute that you think death will keep me from you.” 

(Harry’s been told before, probably by Sirius, that this line had been wedged into his wedding vows for you. “A dramatic one, James was,” Sirius chuckles to himself one morning, Harry and Hermione listening intently, “He always said he’d rather die than ever hurt her. There was this time in seventh year, they had a fight — it was ugly — and she had ignored him for a week. James cried in Remus’s arms begging him to cut his heart out, saying that he didn’t deserve to keep on breathing, not after making you cry.”) 

“That is so creepy,” You say in disgust, scrunching your nose. Sirius chortles at your side. “I still wonder why Evans agreed to go out with you.” 

“It’s all part of the charm, dove.” James winks. “It’s all part of the charm.” 

Harry wants to barf, actually.

After breakfast, James then decides to introduce Harry to Lily, Remus, and Peter. (He’s gonna need the patience of a saint to not Avada Kedavra that rat on the spot.) Harry had spent the whole morning watching Sirius peel oranges and give them to you with a smitten look in his eyes — naturally, you gave whatever Sirius offered you to Harry, and each time Padfoot would visibly wilt. If he were in his Animagus form, Harry thinks he would be whining by now, tongue out and all. James and Sirius follow after you like lost puppies when you extricate yourself from the table.

“Where are you going?” James calls, hot on your heels as you leave the Great Hall.

“Away from you, Potter!” 

And James actually sighs when you turn the corner and disappear from their peripheral vision. Seconds later, he turns to Harry with a blinding smile, “She’s definitely charmed.”

Harry chortles.

“Well, come on then!” James guffaws as he wraps an arm around Harry’s neck — this is so, so strange. They begin walking in the opposite direction of where you went. “I still can’t believe we’ve got another Potter here and in Slytherin. I think I would have remembered Minnie calling your name during the Sorting Ceremony. What year are you in?” 

He’s supposed to start his sixth-year in a few weeks. “Fifth.” Technically. 

“We should ask Lily,” says Sirius, hands in his pockets and ebony ringlets tickling his nape. “She’s got the best memory out of all of us.”

It’s odd, Harry thinks, meeting the person who’s got his eyes — or the other way around, as people have told him. It’s like someone carved out the emeralds of Lily Evans’s eyes and bestowed it upon Harry for safekeeping. She sits beside Remus Lupin, head resting on his shoulder, hands clasped together, as they enjoy the shade. Nex to them, oblivious to their intimate conversation, is Peter Pettigrew — with his rosy, cherub cheeks and innocent blue eyes; not at all the image of a pathological, cowardly liar. Their heads snap in attention as James boisterously cries for their name. 

“Marauders — and Lily-pad — meet ickle Potter.” James lightheartedly whacks Harry on the back, to which Harry feels his lungs spill out from his mouth, he’s sure there’s an imprint of his father’s hand on his back now. 

“There’s two Potters in Hogwarts?” Sea-green eyes look at him in scrutiny as Lily knits her brows. “How even is the castle still standing?” 

James cackles like it’s the best joke he’s ever heard in his entire life, slapping his knee for dramatic effect. Oh, well, at least they’re buying Harry’s half-baked lie. At this point, it’s not even baked, it’s just wet, soggy, and poorly done. “Good one, Lily-pad!”

Sirius ruffles Remus’s shaggy blonde hair, canines bared in a wide grin. “This one here’s Moony, uptight prefect in the morning and absolute beast in the evening.” 

Harry blanches. Surely he was talking about his furry problem, right? Right? 

Remus doesn’t even flinch, just peels off Sirius’s hand from him and extends his hand out to Harry. “Please do not mind him. Remus Lupin, nice to meet you. Although, I can’t believe this is the first time we’ve met. We would have definitely remembered if we had another Potter in our midst.” 

“It’s true, we Potters are just hard to forget,” says James, smiling cheekily. 

Harry pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Mum didn’t take the Potter name. I’m part Dursley. Muggle.” 

Lily hums, toying at the ends of her bright hair. “Dursley, huh? What a familiar name.” 

“It’s a common one,” Harry assures her — not at all the names of the people who would take him in after they died. And make his life miserable. 

“I suppose you’re right,” says Lily, unconvinced. 

“And this is Peter.” James introduces the boy eagerly, pride in his voice — as though this isn’t the person who literally allies himself with Voldemort. As if Peter won’t betray his friends all because of fear. 

“N–Nice to meet you,” Peter stammers with a nervous fidget, “Any family of James is a friend of ours.” 

Harry’s eye twitches. 

IT IS ALMOST COMICAL — the way their eyes land on your figure, bursting through the courtyard from the corridors, winter cloak swishing with every step, tendrils of hair swaying in the crisp wind, and head held up high, thick books under your arms. You pause in front of the Marauders, face blank, then you turn to Peter, greeting him with a: “Hello, only Gryffindor I can tolerate.” 

Peter’s cheeks burn a saccharine hue of pink. Oh, no, no, no — absolutely not — Harry will not stand for a little crush Peter Pettigrew has on his mother. He needs James to act now. “Hi,” Peter replies shyly. 

Lily quirks her lips. “Hello, princess, see your score for the Astronomy test yet?”

You scowl. “Zip it, Evans.” 

The sound of Lily’s laughter fills the atmosphere — it’s the sort of melody that makes flowers bloom in deserts. “Had a bit of difficulty with the star charts?” 

Sirius pinches your cheek — Harry thinks you’re going to murder him on the spot. “Difficulty? I think this one just slept through the whole thing.” 

James snickers. “Must have been one hell of a nap, princess. You were drooling on my jumper.” 

“I most certainly do not drool!” You gasp, appalled, eyes wide as you step away from Sirius.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “What? Is drooling too barbaric for the pretty, little pure-blooded princess now? Newsflash, pet, you’re just as human as we are.” 

“Oh, you horrible, loathsome, infuriating—” You whip around to beat his chest with the course book in your grasp — it’s the kind of book Hermione would consider for light reading. 

“Irresistibly attractive—?” Sirius supplies for you, grin widening with as he captures your wrist with his hands. 

“In your dreams!” You shrill. 

You exhale slowly, eyes closing, chest rising when you take a sharp inhale. You open your eyes and stare straight at Harry — for a moment he fears that you’ll bite his head off. “Harry, dear, will you accompany me to the library? I think I’ve found something important regarding your situation.” 

Harry nods. “Is it time already?” 

“Yes,” You say firmly. “And time is of the essence. Come on.” 

“Wait!” Lily calls out to you as you turn to head back to the castle, Harry in tow — he tries to avoid the way James is glaring at your linked arms. “Hogsmeade next week?” 

Your jaw falls to the ground — this must have been unrehearsed, if the others’ reactions were anything to go by; Remus had dropped his book in shock, Sirius looked like he couldn’t decide between applauding Lily’s bravery or shaking her, and James was somehow frozen in time. “Excuse me?” 

“You’re excused, princess,” says Lily, dimples poking out of her cheek as she takes another step towards you. “You, me, Hogsmeade. A date. I’m sure you’ve gone on one of those before.” 

Harry elbows your stomach as you stare at Lily in shock. It takes a few moments to break you out of your stupor. “A–And what makes you think I’ll just go with you?” 

Lily shrugs. “I’m fit. Aren’t I, Remus?” 

“The fittest,” says Remus without missing a beat. 

You laugh incredulously. “Do you just expect me to go along with this? You’re mad, Evans.” 

Harry glares at you. You need to go along with this. 

“Are you scared, princess?” Lily’s face is inches away from yours, noses almost touching — Harry doesn’t know if he should keep watching this painful way of flirting — as she grins at you, happiness barely contained within her eyes. 

To your credit, you don’t back down. (Harry has to say this for the masses: he saw your gaze flitter down to Lily’s lips for a split second.) “Stop calling me that, Evans.” 

“One date, then.” 

You growl in exasperation, eyes flickering to the boys behind her back — pretending not to hear their conversation. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with them as well?” 

Lily beams and Harry swears sunflowers could grow in her direction. “We’re a package deal.” 

“Unfortunately,” You utter — but Harry notices it, the lack of venom in your voice. You straighten your posture, nose lifted haughtily, “I choose where we’re going.” 

“Done.” The sun peeks out from the cloud just as Lily smiles at you. 

“And I want to—” 

“Done,” Remus interjects raspily, peering up at you from underneath his lashes. “Anything you want, it’s yours.” 

You fight a growing smile, but continue, “If we’re going out in public, you’re going to have to wear—” 

“Done,” says James giddily, he looks as though he could kiss you in front of everyone without a care in the world.  

“You can’t just agree to anything I say!” You flap your arms in frustration. 

“Yes, dear,” Sirius teases. 

“Do you know how much you piss me off, Black?” You squawk. “Because you are this close to—”

“You are so fucking beautiful,” Sirius confesses, every pretense shed raw from his skin, sincerity pouring from his words. 

“I—” You falter, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’ve gone mad.” 

“It’s your fault, dove,” says James, eyes twinkling like crescent moons as he smiles. “You best take accountability for this.” 

“You’re incorrigible — all of you,” You say as you avoid their gazes.

(But they were yours. Past, present, and future. They loved you so much that their soul was no longer their own — it was yours; yours to keep, yours to break, and yours to love. It would be unjust to ask them why they loved you. Do we ask why the sun rises each day without rest? Do we ask a daisy to stop blooming, or a tree to stop growing after it has endured storms and floods? After all, we do not ask why humans follow the light in a tunnel shrouded in darkness.) 

“Come on, Harry, let’s go.” You reach for his hand, he notices immediately that the tips of your ears are pink, and your palms are warm with sweat. He barely sees Peter wave goodbye before you tug him in the direction of the castle entrance. 

“Wait up!” Remus catches up to you two in quick strides, offering to carry your books for you — not that you agree, stubborn Slytherin that you are. “I’ll walk you to the library.” 

“There’s no need for that, Lupin, thank you.” You dodge his eyes, lips tightly pressed together, nails slightly digging into Harry’s arm. 

“Remus,” He says with a twinkle. “Call me Remus.” 

“Alright.” You pause. “Remus.” 

(In that moment, Remus wonders if you remember decking Lucius Malfoy in the face to defend him in your fourth year. He didn’t think he deserved to even breathe in the same air as you — the pure-blooded princess, dressed in clothing worth more than his life, adorned in jewelry he could only dream to afford, raised to believe she was better than everyone else. Then, you beat up Evan Rosier the next month in the courtyard, eyes ablaze, extravagant silk marred with grass stains and mud, and knuckles split open. You spit blood on the ground, looking at Lily then back at Rosier. “Red,” You say, kicking him one last time in the stomach, unafraid of McGonagall’s wrath growing louder and louder. “Just like everyone else. Like those Muggleborns you fear. We’ve all got dirty blood, Rosier. Suck it up.” 

“I’ll tell your father about this!” Rosier bellows through bloody teeth. 

“Tell him!” You grab his neck and slam your forehead against his. “Tell him that I decide my own future now!”

Remus doesn’t even have to think about it. 

He falls in love.) 

FUNNILY ENOUGH, IT’S LILY who gives you her heart first, before anyone else does. It’s the last month of her first year at Hogwarts — it still hasn’t quite sunk in yet that she was a witch. Her, not Petunia, but her — Lily Evans, the witch. Apparently, some people can’t believe it either. A girl from Ravenclaw calls her this foul word, she’s heard it a few times now but it always hurts the same. James and Sirius get into a fight for her honor, now faced with detention later this evening. But she can’t help but wonder, what if they were right? What if she really didn’t belong in this world? It was too good to be true, anyway. Perhaps she’ll just run a flower boutique with Petunia.

“Oi.” 

The sound of your voice startles her, and she nearly topples over in the Great Lake. Lily catches sight of your Slytherin colors and resigns herself to another round of name-calling. “What do you want?” 

“They’re wrong, you know,” You tell her, ignoring Lily’s question. You look down on her with your nose raised arrogantly — she wishes she could be like you. Born to be magic. “You’ve got a terrifying brain locked up in your head there, Evans. And they know it, too. They’re scared.” 

Lily scoffs. “I’m just a Mudblood to them. There’s nothing to be intimidated by.” 

You sneer. “Don’t say that word. You’re more than that. More than them. They’ve got long ways to go to prove they have a place in this world. But you — you’ve defied the odds and you were destined to become magic. You don’t have to prove anything. You have the right to be in the wizarding world and no one can take that away from you.” 

Then, you pivot on your heels, not bothering to hear her reply. “You’re my rival now, Evans. Do keep up. We’ve got an Astronomy test tomorrow. I look forward to seeing how you do then.” 

Lily just gapes. She’s certain there’s butterflies in her stomach. Her heart thumps wildly against her ribcage. Lily raises her hands to feel her blushing cheeks. There’s a light unfamiliar sensation in her stomach — like the urge to kick her legs and scream into a pillow, or more precisely, chase after you and hold your hand.

She stiffens.

Oh.

part two

rody soul x reader

｡𖦹°‧ You Matter To Me ｡𖦹°‧

it a the middle it the night kill a me but i’m tired but the brain rot is too strong. When i see him i think howl and calsifer

masterlist

Rody means the world to you, The world has a way of taking advantage

“Come on, slowpokes!” you called over your shoulder, already halfway up a stack of crates that led to your usual rooftop hideout above the bakery.

The streets of Otheon were always full of life, bustling markets, kids darting between stalls, the occasional shouts of vendors selling fresh bread or trinkets. But for you, Rody, and his siblings, the real adventure was never in the busy streets. It was in the quieter places, the hidden nooks and rooftops where no one bothered you.

“I’m trying!” Rody huffed, carrying Roro on his back while Lala clung to his arm. “Unlike you, I’ve got two little germs to deal with!”

Lala pouted. “I’m not a germ!”

“You kinda are,” Roro mumbled sleepily against Rody’s shoulder.

You laughed, hopping back down to help. “Alright, Lala, your ride’s here.” You crouched down, and without hesitation, she scrambled onto your back. “Hold on tight!”

Rody blinked at you, a little surprised, then turned his head away, hoping you wouldn’t notice the faint blush creeping onto his face. Pino, on the other hand, chirped way too much for it to go unnoticed. The little pink bird flitted around excitedly, landing on your shoulder and nuzzling into your cheek

As soon as she wrapped her arms around your neck, you effortlessly climbed back up, Lala giggling the whole way. When you reached the rooftop, you set her down, and she plopped onto the ground dramatically. “Made it!”

Rody finally got up after you, carefully setting Roro down before collapsing onto his back. “You have way too much energy,” he muttered, glancing at you.

You smirked. “you’re just getting old.”

“I’m old?” He scoffed, sitting up. “Excuse me? Who was the one struggling to carry Lala just now?”

“you were the one that was struggling with both—”

Pino, who had been fluttering around your head this whole time, landed on your shoulder and nuzzled against your cheek. You grinned and reached up to gently scratch her head. “What’s up with your little bird today? She’s been extra clingy.”

Rody stiffened. “Uh—no reason! She just, uh—likes you!”

Pino chirped a little too enthusiastically at that.

“she’s so cute and affectionate,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “If you ever want her off your hands i’ll gladly take her”

Rody quickly turned away, rubbing the back of his neck. “AHH! nooo. nope. no. nooooo. she’ll just stick with me”

You raised an eyebrow at him but let it go. If there was one thing about Rody, it was that he was always a little mysterious when it came to certain things.

Roro tugged at your sleeve, looking up at you with big eyes. “Can you tell us a story? The one about the hero who tricks the bad guys!”

“Again?” You grinned. “You guys never get tired of that one.”

“It’s the best one!” Lala said, scooting closer. “But this time, make Rody do the voices!”

Rody groaned. “Why me?”

“Because you’re good at it!”

You smirked, nudging him. “Yeah, come on, partner. Don’t leave me hanging.”

Rody sighed dramatically, but when Lala and Roro gave him matching puppy-dog eyes, he caved. “Fine.”

As you spun your tale, Rody, despite his earlier complaints, got really into the voices. Lala and Roro giggled at his exaggerated villain impressions, and even you had to bite back laughter at his over the top dramatic gasps. By the end of the story, Lala was leaning sleepily against your arm. “You’re gonna be a real hero someday,” she mumbled.

You ruffled her hair, grinning. “Maybe. But for now, I think Rody’s the real hero, he takes care of you guys all the time., you both better appreciate him” by the end you’ve adjusted to squishing her cheeks

Rody sputtered, caught off guard, and Pino chirped in agreement. “Whaaa No, I mean, I just do what I have to.”

His siblings nodded enthusiastically, and Lala giggled. “Then you can be the sidekick!”

“Hey!” you pouted, crossing your arms. “I think I should be the main hero here!”

Roro laughed. “No way! Rody’s way cooler!” Rody looked away, scratching the back of his head, clearly embarrassed but also secretly pleased. You just smirked at him, nudging him lightly with your shoulder.

“Guess that makes us partners, huh?” you said, offering your pinky to him.

For a second, Rody just stared at your outstretched hand, his heartbeat stuttering. Then, swallowing down whatever goofy feelings he had, he looped his pinky around yours, locking it in place.

“Yeah,” he said, softer this time. “Partners.” Pino chirped, flitting excitedly around you again.

“See? Even your bird agrees.” You shot him a teasing grin before offering your pinky. “Well i mean Ill say you’re my hero at least”

Rody just stared for a second, his heart skipping a beat. Then, swallowing down whatever weird feeling was creeping up on him, he linked his pinky with yours.

“You’re too much,” he said quietly.

Pino chirped again, landing between your hands.

You sighed dramatically. “Seriously, what’s with her today?”

Rody groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I don’t know, okay? Just—drop it!”

Lala giggled, Roro snickered, and you? You just awkwardly smiled. You had no idea what was really going on. And Rody really hoped you wouldn’t figure it out anytime soon.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The warm glow of the Otheon sunset stretched across the rooftops as you made your way back home, the scent of freshly baked bread still clinging to your clothes. The afternoon had been perfect laughing with Rody, telling stories to Roro and Lala, and soaking in the feeling of belonging. But that feeling always faded when the night came.

The streets were quieter now, shadows stretching long against the buildings. You kept your head down, slipping through alleys with the ease of someone who had grown up in them. A habit. A necessity. Because the truth was, you couldn’t afford to be seen anymore.

Not after they found you.

It started a few weeks ago an offer, one you couldn’t refuse. The commission had their eyes on you for a while, watching, waiting. Not a hero in the traditional sense, but something else. Someone who could move unseen, get things done where others couldn’t.

They told you the country needed people like you. That you could make a real difference. after everything you’d been through, everything you’d done to survive, wasn’t that what you wanted?

Still, it didn’t feel real until you stepped inside the headquarters for the first time. Unlike the crowded streets of Otheon, the commission building was sleek, clinical. People moved with purpose, their faces unreadable. You weren’t sure what you expected maybe more warmth, more reassurance. But the moment you signed that contract, any illusions of comfort vanished.

“Your work will be in the shadows,” your handler had told you, sliding a file across the table. “We’re not looking for another flashy hero. We need efficiency. Discretion.”

You hesitated for only a moment before flipping the file open. That night, as you lay in your small apartment, staring at the ceiling, you thought about Rody and his siblings. About Lala’s certainty that you’d be a hero one day. About Rody’s quiet admiration when he thought you weren’t looking.

Would they understand this choice? Would they forgive you for walking a path that pulled you further away from them?

You exhaled sharply, sitting up. There was no room for hesitation. This was the only way forward. They didn’t need to know.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The trailer smelled like coffee and something faintly sweet, probably the remnants of breakfast from earlier that morning. The small kitchen was as cramped as ever, with barely enough space for one person, let alone two. Yet, somehow, you and Rody had both ended up here, navigating the tight space like an old dance neither of you had forgotten.

You reached for the sugar at the same time he did, your hands brushing. “Sorry—”

“My bad—”

You both pulled back, only for you to move toward the sink as he turned in the same direction. Your hip bumped against his, making him stagger slightly. “Seriously?” he huffed, rubbing his side with an amused smile.

“Not my fault your kitchen is tiny,” you shot back, nudging him playfully before grabbing a mug from the cabinet.

He shook his head, taking a sip of his coffee. “Or maybe you’re just in my way.”

You smirked. “Maybe you’re in mine.”

Another bump, this time, your shoulder against his as you reached for a spoon. The closeness wasn’t new, not really. You’d spent your childhood shoulder to shoulder, running through the streets of Otheon, always moving together. But something about now about being here after all this time made the space feel even smaller.

Rody exhaled, setting his cup down with a soft clink. “Y’know… I don’t see you much these days.”

The shift in his tone made you pause. You stirred your coffee absentmindedly, the spoon clinking softly against the ceramic. “Yeah? Guess I’ve been busy.”

“Right. Busy.” He crossed his arms, leaning against the counter. “You always disappear for weeks at a time. Then you show up out of nowhere, act like nothing’s changed, and then poof. Gone again.”

You looked at him, seeing the way his brow furrowed just slightly, the way Pino chirped softly from his shoulder, almost as if echoing his thoughts. You flashed an easy grin. “What, miss me that much?”

Rody rolled his eyes, but there was no real bite to it. “Not the point.”

You let out a soft chuckle, stepping aside as he reached past you for the sugar again. In the tight space, you barely had room to move without brushing against him. He didn’t step away, and neither did you.

“Come on, Rody,” you said lightly. “You know me. I go where the wind takes me.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Yeah. You always say that.”

The words were familiar, like an old refrain, but this time, they held something heavier beneath them. You didn’t answer right away, just took a sip of your coffee, letting the warmth settle in your hands. Rody studied you, waiting. You could feel it the way his gaze lingered just a little longer than necessary. Like he was searching for something.

Pino fluttered over to you, landing on your shoulder and nuzzling into your cheek. You smiled, brushing your fingers gently over her feathers. “Your bird’s really loves me. I think she’ll be happier following me around”

Rody exhaled a soft laugh, “she’s…. just affectionate ”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The quiet wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t the same as before. It wasn’t the easy silence of two kids who had nothing to worry about. It was something different now something heavier, something older.

“Still the same, huh?” Rody finally said, his voice softer this time.

You smiled, tilting your head slightly. “Wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t.”

But you both knew that wasn’t true. You weren’t the same kids running through the streets, scraping by on clever tricks and sheer determination. Time had pulled you in different directions, left gaps that neither of you knew how to fill.

Still, you wouldn’t say that. You wouldn’t tell him where you’d been, what you’d been doing. Some things were better left unspoken. Rody let out a small sigh, running a hand through his hair before picking up his coffee again. “Guess I’ll just have to enjoy the company while you’re here, then.”

You clinked your mug against his in a small toast, your grin still in place. “I hold the company I have with you so close.”

Pino chirped again, and Rody glanced at her before shaking his head with a smile.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

A question came up more often than you liked.

“You don’t have a hero name?”

People always asked with some mix of surprise and curiosity, like the idea of someone doing this kind of work without a flashy title was strange. Like it wasn’t normal to just be a person. But you never had an answer that satisfied them.

Because the truth was, you never needed one. Heroes had names to stand for something hope, power, legacy. They had people waiting for them, people who chanted their names in the streets, who relied on their presence. But for you?

There was no crowd waiting. No legacy to uphold. Just the job. That’s what you sold yourself too. Growing up in Otheon, names didn’t mean much. You learned early on that no one was coming to save you. No one cared what you called yourself when you were scraping by, running through life with Rody, protecting his siblings from the kind of people who didn’t bother learning kids’ names before taking what they wanted.

Survival was enough. A name wouldn’t have changed a thing. Even now, with the commission branding you as one of their best assets, you still didn’t see the point. The work you did wasn’t meant for the spotlight it was quiet, precise, the kind of thing that made people uneasy when they thought about how things really got done.

And maybe, deep down, it was better this way. A name meant being known. And to be known was to be missed.

You weren’t sure you could handle that.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The night air was cool against your skin as you leaned back against the hood of Rody’s beat up car or is probably his car, you stopped asking. Staring up at the Otheon sky. The city lights blurred out most of the stars, but a few stubborn ones still shone through, distant but steady.

Rody sat beside you, one leg pulled up, his arms resting lazily over his knee. Pino was curled up on his shoulder, half dozing. For once, the world wasn’t pulling either of you in different directions. No missions. No responsibilities. Just this.

“You ever think about leaving?” he asked suddenly, voice softer than usual.

You glanced at him. “Otheon?”

“Yeah. The city. The country. Just… all of it.”

You exhaled, tilting your head back. “I used to.”

He didn’t respond right away. Just sat with it, letting the silence settle between you like a familiar weight. Then, finally “But you stay.”

You turned your head toward him. His eyes were unreadable, reflecting the dim city lights, but there was something in them, something careful. Like he was waiting for an answer that mattered.

“…Yeah.”

Rody hummed, looking away, a small smile playing on his lips. “Good.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Good?”

“Yeah.” He let out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “Because if you left, I think the whole damn world would feel it.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “…Rody.”

“I mean it.” He turned to face you fully now, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “I know you don’t think about yourself like that. I know you don’t see yourself the way you should. But you—” He huffed, shaking his head. “You matter, Y/n. To me. To the kids. To a hell of a lot more people than you think.”

Your throat tightened. You had spent so long moving in the dark, convincing yourself that it was better that way, that your presence wasn’t needed. Rody saw right through that. Like he always did.

“…You really believe that?” you asked quietly.

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Of course I do, dumbass.”

Rody reached for your hand, threading his fingers through yours with a familiarity that made your chest ache. His grip was warm, solid, grounding.

“We’ve always been surviving against the world, I’m scared you don’t know how much you mean. Everything is changing and… and-” he said. “You just need to be you. And that’s enough.”

You swallowed hard, looking down at your intertwined hands. There was no teasing in his voice, no deflection. Just truth. For a long time, you had carried the weight of being unseen, unnoticed, untethered. But Rody saw you.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

It was supposed to be another straightforward mission for you, a pro hero on a routine contract. The job was simple, intercept an illegal exchange of weapons and information, apprehend the individuals involved, and ensure the goods didn’t make it onto the streets. You had done this hundreds of times. But now, standing above the alley, you realized just how easily something simple could spiral into chaos.

You’d always kept your personal life separate from your work as a pro hero. Being top tier came with its own pressures, and if you were honest with yourself, you didn’t need anyone’s pity or sympathy. The world of heroes was a strange one, filled with expectations, spotlight, and public relations. You never cared for the fanfare or the flashy name. To you, it had always been about getting the job done, saving lives, and making sure that people who needed help got it.

The mission was unfolding, but everything felt wrong.

You crouched low, eyes scanning the alley below as you noticed the familiar figure of Rody, his lanky frame standing awkwardly among a group of shady looking individuals. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets, trying to play it cool, but the tension in his shoulders told a different story. He was out of his depth, and you could see it.

The voices from your earpiece crackled with static, a reminder of the task at hand. “Y/n, do you have visual on the target?”

You clenched your jaw. “Yeah. I see him.”

The rush of adrenaline hit you. You were supposed to be the one in control. You were the one who was supposed to stay ahead of this. no surprises, no distractions.

You’d seen Rody around the city occasionally, but you never really asked about what he was doing. He always seemed to disappear for days at a time, coming back with some new odd job, a bit more worn down, a bit quieter each time. He never talked about his work, and you never asked. You had your own life to handle, your own responsibilities to take care of. But seeing him standing there, surrounded by men you knew were tied to dangerous underground syndicates, made your blood run cold.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, realizing what this was.

You’d been hired for the same mission, but you never imagined he’d be involved in something like this. The contract you’d taken was straightforward: stop an illegal arms trade. But seeing Rody here, in the middle of it, made your stomach drop. He wasn’t a part of this world the world you worked in as a pro hero. This wasn’t the carefree kid you’d grown up with, not by a long shot. He was knee deep in a deal with people you knew to be dangerous, and the worst part was, he didn’t even seem to notice the weight of it.

Rody adjusted his jacket, glancing around like he was trying to hide his nerves. The man in front of him, a bulky figure with a scar running down his cheek, sneered as he took a step closer. “You’re late. You got what we asked for?”

You tensed, instinctively crouching lower behind the ledge, your heart pounding in your chest. The contract you had taken was to take down a ring of illegal arms dealers that had been slipping through the cracks of the law. They were smart, elusive slipping between the hands of the law with fake names and a string of different identities. You had been tracking their movements for weeks, and now here they were, just a few steps from being caught.

But Rody didn’t belong here. It wasn’t just the shady group of people. It was the fact that he was so calm too calm. This wasn’t the awkward, lovable Rody you grew up with. This was someone else, someone playing a part in a world you didn’t want him anywhere near.

The scarred man reached into his coat, pulling out a small package wrapped in cloth. “You know what to do with this,” he said in a low, menacing tone, handing it over to Rody. You couldn’t see the contents from this angle, but you didn’t need to. The exchange was happening.

You swallowed, unsure of what to do next.

“Rody, what the hell are you doing?” you muttered under your breath, a mix of anger and confusion flooding your chest. You never thought he’d go this far this deep into the underground world.

A flash of movement caught your eye, and you snapped your attention back to Rody. He was holding the package now, slipping it into his jacket like it was no big deal, still wearing that careless grin of his. The man gave him a nod of approval, and Rody took a step back, almost as if he was waiting for something.

Your heart raced. Was this the moment to act? Static crackled again in your earpiece. “Y/n, what’s your status?”

You exhaled, trying to steady your breath. “I’ve got eyes on the target.” You hesitated, your thoughts racing. “There’s someone else in the mix. Stand by.”

The radio was silent for a moment. “Acknowledged. Proceed with caution.”

You didn’t respond. Your mind was already made up. You couldn’t leave him there. You couldn’t just walk away and pretend it was any other mission. You had to act. Slowly, you slid from your perch, moving down toward the alley with practiced silence. Every movement, every step, had to be calculated. This wasn’t just about catching criminals anymore. This was about saving someone you cared about, someone who, despite everything, still mattered to you.

As you neared the corner, you heard Rody’s voice, low and a little too relaxed for the situation. “So, uh, do I just walk away, or what?”

The scarred man smirked. “You’ve done your part. Now get lost.”

Rody shrugged, turning as if he were about to leave. But then, just before he could make it to the exit, you rounded the corner.

“Hey!”

He froze, eyes wide as he looked up, catching sight of you standing at the end of the alley. His expression shifted surprise, then recognition, followed by that damn grin of his. “Y/N? What the hell are you doing here?”

You didn’t answer. You took a step toward him, hands raised, quirk already activating. “Get out of here,” you said, voice low but firm. “Now.”

He didn’t move. He just stared at you, a thousand questions in his eyes. “wait what?”

You didn’t want to explain. You didn’t want to answer the question he had no right to ask. You had always kept your work separate from your personal life, and this was not how you wanted him to find out what you’ve been occupied with.

The scarred man behind him grunted, clearly annoyed by the interruption. “What’s this?” he growled, eyeing you suspiciously.

Rody held up a hand, signaling for the man to calm down. “Hey, it’s fine. She’s an old friend. We go way back.”

But you couldn’t lie to him now. Not when he was standing there with a package in hand, standing right in the middle of your mission.

“I’m a pro,” you said, the words slipping out of your mouth before you could stop them. “But I’m not here for you. You need to walk away before things get worse.”

Rody blinked, looking down at the package in his hand, then back at you. “This… This is what you’re after?”

You didn’t answer. Rody swallowed, the tension suddenly making itself clear. “You know what this is, don’t you?” His voice was quieter now, a little softer.

“I know,” you said quietly. “But this isn’t the world you want to be in. It never was.”

The confident grin faded from his face for the first time since you’d seen him. His shoulders stiffened, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t need you to tell me what I can and can’t do.” His voice was sharp, defensive like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince you.

You stepped forward, keeping your voice steady. “This isn’t some delivery, Rody. This is an illegal arms deal. And you’re standing right in the middle of it.”

He didn’t answer, but his jaw tightened, and his gaze shifted uneasily. You could see the conflict behind his eyes now, the way he was trying to hold on to that facade of control, but it was slipping. He didn’t want to admit that he’d made a mistake, that he’d gotten too deep.

“You don’t have to do this,” you said softly, lowering your hands slightly. “There’s always another way.”

Rody stared at you for a long moment, the tension thick between you. His lips pressed into a thin line, and for a second, it felt like he might say something real, something vulnerable. But then he just shook his head, the smile returning, forced this time.

“Yeah, well, we all gotta make a living somehow.” He picked up the package again, slipping it into his jacket, and turned his back to you. “I’m not your problem anymore.”

You reached out instinctively, grabbing his arm and spinning him around. “Rody, stop!”

He met your eyes, his expression unreadable, but the way his gaze flickered for a split second told you everything. “I have to do this.”

The words hit harder than you expected, and for a moment, you were both frozen in place, neither of you moving. The sound of Pino chirping nervously on his shoulder barely registered in the background.

Finally, Rody pulled his arm away gently, but there was a finality in the motion that stung more than it should have. “You’re a hero,” he said quietly, his voice almost sad now. “You do your thing. Let me do mine.”

You couldn’t let him go. Not like this. Before you could speak again, the scarred man growled, stepping toward you. “Enough talking. You’re not gonna ruin this deal, are you?”

Rody didn’t look back at you. He just started walking toward the exit, his steps slow but determined.

You stood there for a moment, torn between staying on mission and pulling Rody back from the edge he was so dangerously close to falling off. But you knew he was too far in now.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Rody had expected this to be another routine gig quick in, quick out, no complications. But now? He was sprinting through a crumbling warehouse, barely keeping up as bullets ricocheted off steel beams and crates splintered around him. This was not what he signed up for.

And the biggest problem wasn’t the deal gone wrong. It was you.

You moved through the fray like it was second nature, weaving through enemies like you had all the time in the world. Rody had always known you were quick, clever, and strong growing up, but this? The way you fought, the way you anticipated every move before it happened, the sheer confidence in your stance, none of it made sense.

He’d seen you fight before. Back when you were kids, you used to take down low level thugs together, scamming the occasional rich idiot out of their money just to survive another day. But that had been scrappy, desperate. Survival.

This was something else entirely. He barely ducked under a flying crate, cursing under his breath. “Oh, come on—”

The guy who threw it didn’t get another chance. You pivoted, a single sharp movement, and with barely a touch, redirected the momentum of the crate straight back at its sender. The impact sent him flying into a rusted container with a loud clang.

Rody’s brain stuttered. You hadn’t just dodged, you had controlled it. Like you’d known exactly where the force was going to go.

And you were completely calm about it.

He barely had time to process before another attacker lunged at him. Rody braced himself, twisting just in time to dodge, but before he could counter, you were already there. A single, well placed strike sent the guy sprawling to the ground, unconscious before he hit the concrete. Rody exhaled sharply. “Okay—what the fuck—”

You just turned to him, barely out of breath. Then another wave of enemies poured in.

“Later,” you said, grabbing his wrist and pulling him behind cover just as gunfire shredded through a nearby wall. He felt the way your grip tightened not panicked, not frantic, but controlled. You had everything mapped out in your head. You knew exactly what was happening.

Rody didn’t know what to focus on, the gunfire, the chaos, or the fact that the person he grew up with, the person he thought he knew, was not the same anymore.

You peeked out from cover, scanning the situation. “Alright, we need to move—”

Rody grabbed your sleeve, yanking you back before you could go any further. “No.” His chest rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath. His mind was spinning. “What do you do?”

You blinked. He wasn’t joking. His usual carefree expression was gone, replaced with something between shock and frustration. His brown eyes searched yours for some kind of explanation, some reason why the person standing in front of him wasn’t just the same street smart kid he grew up with.

You hesitated for only a second before smirking. “Let’s just say…” You adjusted your stance, tilting your head slightly. “I got a little more official than you.”

Rody blinked. Then the realization hit him like a train.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me. what you said earlier was real? ” Rody groaned, running a hand through his hair as the realization fully settled in. “You’re a hero?” The words sounded ridiculous coming out of his mouth, but there was no denying it now.

You gave him a lopsided grin, adjusting your stance. “Surprised?”

“Surprised doesn’t cover it,” he muttered. His heart was still pounding, half from the gunfire, half from the fact that everything he thought he knew about you was apparently wrong.

You shot him a knowing look, but before he could argue more, another burst of gunfire tore through the air, forcing you both to duck. The remaining thugs were regrouping, barking orders, trying to surround you.

Rody exhaled sharply. No time to argue.

“Alright,” he said, glancing around. “We need an exit.”

You peeked over the crate you were crouched behind, scanning the warehouse. “Main doors are too risky, they’ll have snipers covering the outside. Back entrance?”

“Locked, bolted, probably rigged to hell,” Rody said without missing a beat. He had already been looking for exits the moment things went sideways. Years of slipping in and out of trouble taught him to always have a way out.

You grinned. “ok pretty boy i’m gonna need you to lock in.”

Rody rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Give me cover, I’ll get us out.”

Just like that, the tension shifted. The shock of finding each other on opposite sides of the mission took a backseat to something more instinctual survival. The old rhythm kicked in before either of you could think about it. You launched forward, drawing the attention of the gunmen while Rody moved, darting between shadows and obstacles, slipping into the background like he was made for it.

And damn it, it was smooth. While you dismantled threats head on, Rody did what he did best found an opening no one else would’ve noticed. He spotted a rusted out maintenance ladder leading up to a row of high windows. If they could get up there, they could drop onto the roof and disappear before anyone noticed.

He worked fast, prying open an access panel and overriding the lock mechanism with a flick of his wrist.

“Y/N!” he called over his shoulder. “Exit secured!”

You heard him, but you were still occupied, two guys left, both moving in sync, trying to corner you. You sidestepped one’s attack, caught his wrist mid swing, and redirected the momentum into the other guy, sending them both sprawling.

Rody stared with awe. “Damn.”

You grinned, breath steady. “Told you. Official.”

“Yeah, yeah, get moving!”

You fell into step behind him, scaling the ladder with practiced ease. As soon as you reached the top, Rody swung the window open and hoisted himself onto the roof, offering a hand to pull you up after him.

“Not bad,” you said as you both landed, crouched low on the rooftop. The night air was crisp, the chaos below now just a dull hum.

Rody dusted off his jacket, grinning despite himself. “Yeah, well… turns out I still know how to work with you.”

You met his gaze, and for a second, it was like nothing had changed like you were still just two kids running through the streets of Otheon, watching each other’s backs, finding your way out of trouble together.

Except now, the stakes were higher. And you weren’t sure where you stood anymore. Rody exhaled, shoving his hands into his pockets. “So… what now, hero?”

You glanced back at the warehouse. “You tell me, thief.”

The tension between you both lingered, but there was no time to pick it apart. Not now. Not while the remnants of the fight still rang in your ears, and adrenaline buzzed beneath your skin.

Rody shook his head, letting out a breath as he stared out over the rooftops. “You know, I thought tonight was gonna be simple. Just another job, in and out, no surprises.” He shot you a look, half exasperated, half amused. “And then you show up.”

You smirked, crossing your arms. “What, disappointed?”

He scoffed. “I don’t know what I am. Still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you—” He gestured at you, exasperated. “—are a hero.”

You shrugged, feeling the weight of the moment settle in. “Wasn’t exactly the plan growing up. But life happens.”

“Yeah. Life happens.” He let out a short laugh, rubbing his temple. “And apparently, it happened to you a lot harder than it did to me.”

You just hummed in response, watching the city stretch out below you. The streets you both grew up on were still the same bright, busy, uncaring. But standing here now, after everything, you realized you weren’t the same kids anymore.

Rody shifted beside you, reaching into his jacket. “Speaking of jobs…” He pulled out a small, tightly wrapped package, the one he had been hired to deliver.

You frowned. “That what this was all about?”

“Yeah. Didn’t exactly ask questions when I took the gig.” He exhaled sharply, tossing the package once in his hand. “Turns out, I probably should’ve.”

You held out your hand. “Let me see it. Rody hesitated for half a second before placing it in your palm. You turned it over, feeling the weight. The package was small, but whatever was inside wasn’t just some ordinary delivery. You had a bad feeling about it.

“I need to take this,” you said finally, slipping it into your jacket. You shot him a look. “This thing nearly got you killed. Whatever’s inside? It’s dangerous. And if it’s linked to whatever bastard sent those guys after us, I need to know what it is.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I figured you’d say that.”

“Then why do you sound so annoyed?”

“Because,” he grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets, “I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to deal with you stealing my paycheck tonight.”

You smirked. “Technically, it was never yours to begin with.”

He groaned. “Oh, shut up.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of the night, the revelations, the near-death experienced it all settled between you.

Then, Rody stepped closer, tilting his head slightly. “You know, for what it’s worth… I get it now.”

You blinked. “Get what?”

He gave you a lopsided grin. “Why you stayed.”

Your breath caught. He wasn’t teasing. Wasn’t deflecting. He just meant it.

And suddenly, everything—the mission, the years of knowing each other , the different paths you had taken it all faded into something smaller. Less important. Without thinking, you grabbed his jacket and pulled him into a hug. Rody stiffened for only a second before relaxing, arms wrapping tightly around you. He smelled like gunpowder and cheap cologne, familiar and warm in a way that made your chest ache.

“Idiot,” you muttered against his shoulder. “You mean more to me than some dumb package.”

Rody let out a breathless laugh, squeezing you a little tighter. “Yeah. You too.” And just when the moment felt too much, when your heart was on the verge of really saying something stupid

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Something in his voice made your chest tighten. You had spent so long keeping your distance, letting your work pull you away from him and the life you once had. Now, seeing him like this standing beside you, after everything you realized how much you missed him.

And you weren’t going to let the moment slip away. Before Rody could react, you closed the distance and wrapped your arms around him.

He stiffened at first, caught off guard. But after a second, he sighed, his body relaxing as he slowly returned the embrace. His arms curled around you, firm but familiar, like they belonged there. You turned your head and kissed his cheek.

Rody froze.

A strangled noise escaped him as he immediately let go, taking a full step back. “H-Hey! What was that for!?”

You grinned, hands on your hips. “Oh, relax, pretty boy. Just proving a point.”

His ears were bright red. “You are so—”

But before he could finish, a tiny, distressed chirp rang out. You barely had time to react before Pino, who had been perched on Rody’s shoulder, suddenly collapsed, dramatically fainting onto your head.

Both of you stared at the tiny bird, now sprawled over your hair like she had just witnessed the most scandalous thing in existence.

Rody groaned, covering his face. “Pino, please.”

You burst out laughing. “Oh my god—”

Pino twitched weakly, as if trying to recover from the absolute shock of it all. “Pino—?” Your brows furrowed in concern, carefully cupping your hands around her small form.

Rody sighed beside you, rubbing the back of his neck, but there was no real annoyance in his voice when he muttered, “Yeah… saw that coming.”

You looked at him, confused, but his expression told you everything you needed to know.

Pino was relieved.

He never told you his quirk but right now you saw him in her. She had always been a reflection of Rody’s true emotions, the ones he didn’t say out loud. And right now, she wasn’t holding anything back she was clinging to you, sobbing like she had been carrying the weight of all the time you had been gone.

Your chest tightened.

You gently stroked her head with your thumb, whispering, “Hey, I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Pino let out another wobbly chirp, her grip tightening. Rody let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, she’s gonna be like this for a while.” He glanced at you, something unspoken in his gaze. “Guess I can’t blame her.”

You met his eyes, something settling between you and Rody no matter how much he pretended otherwise had missed you just as much.

How long had it been since you had really been here? Since you let yourself be with Rody, without the weight of your job, without keeping him at arm’s length?

Too long. Way too long. The thought hit you all at once, and before you could think twice, you launched yourself at him.

“Rody!”

His eyes barely had time to widen before you crashed into him again, arms wrapping around his shoulders as your full weight sent the both of you stumbling. He let out a startled grunt, barely keeping his balance as you buried your face against his neck.

“Whoa—okay—hi didn’t we just do this?” He sounded surprised, but his hands instinctively came up to hold you steady.

You didn’t care.

“You mean so much to me,” you mumbled against his skin before pressing a firm kiss to his cheek. “Like, so much.”

Rody froze. You felt his whole body tense, his breath hitch. Pino, still curled between you two, let out a delighted little chirp, wiggling excitedly at the pure joy radiating off of you.

For a second, Rody was completely silent. “You really had to go for the cheek, huh?”

You pulled back just enough to see his face, his ears were red. Like, burning red. His usual easy smirk was nowhere to be found. Instead, he was staring at you, wide eyed, lips parted slightly, and way too stiff to be playing it cool.

You grinned, tilting your head. “What? Would you rather I kissed you somewhere else?”

He made a choked noise. “I—”

You laughed, tightening your hold on him. “I missed you, idiot.”

Slowly, his hands settled more firmly against your back, fingers gripping just enough to keep you there. His chest rose and fell beneath you, and finally, he let out a quiet chuckle.

“…Yeah.” His voice was softer now, barely above a breath. “I missed you too.”

Pino chirped happily, flapping her wings.

“Now come on, partner. We’ve got work to do.”

Rody rolled his eyes, but there was a smile tugging at his lips as he held you tighter.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The small trailer was as rowdy as ever, filled with the sounds of Roro and Lala excitedly recounting their day. You sat on the couch, Lala clinging to your arm while Roro dramatically reenacted a scene from school.

“—And then I told him, ‘That’s not how you do it!’ and bam, I solved the problem first!” Roro grinned proudly.

You gasped, playing along. “No way. You totally outsmarted them.”

“Obviously.”

Lala tugged at your sleeve. “Did you see my drawing? I made you a hero!”

Your heart warmed. “Yeah? Let me see.”

She beamed and scrambled to grab her notebook. Rody, meanwhile, leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching. His expression was unreadable, but you knew him well enough to catch the way his fingers tapped lightly against his arm a small habit of his when he was thinking too much.

After Lala finished showing off her masterpiece (which featured you punching a villain twice your size), Rody finally spoke up.

“Alright, alright, bedtime,” he announced.

Roro groaned. “But—”

“No buts.”

Lala pouted dramatically. “You just wanna talk to Y/n alone.”

Rody sputtered. “I—what? No, I just—”

You burst into laughter. “Smart kid.”

Lala giggled, dragging Roro toward their room. “Goodnight, Y/n! Don’t let Rody be too boring.”

The second their door closed, the trailer fell into a quieter hum. The absence of their voices made the space feel smaller.

You exhaled, standing up. “They’ve got you figured out.”

Rody huffed, moving to the sink. “Yeah, yeah.” He grabbed a glass, filling it with water. “So, you sticking around this time, or am I gonna have to wait another few months for you to show up again?”

You blinked. There it was, the question you had expected, but still weren’t fully ready for. Stepping into the kitchen, you leaned on the counter beside him. The space was narrow, just enough that every time Rody shifted, his arm brushed against yours.

“You miss me?” you teased.

Rody scoffed. “No. Pino does.”

Right on cue, Pino fluttered onto your shoulder, nuzzling into your cheek with an excited chirp.

You grinned. “Uh-huh. Just Pino, huh?”

Rody turned to face you, his usual smirk in faded something about it was different. Maybe it was the way his fingers drummed absently against the counter. Maybe it was how his breath had slightly hitched when you got closer.

“What do you want me to say?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Maybe the truth.”

Something flickered across his face. Neither of you moved, the weight of unspoken things pressing between you. suddenly, you were done waiting. You reached up, cupping his face, and before Rody could react.

You kissed him.

It was soft hesitant for just a second—until Rody melted. His breath caught, his hands gripping the counter like he was grounding himself, like he was making sure this was real.

Pino let out the most dramatic squeak you had ever heard before fainting onto the counter.

You barely registered it, too focused on the warmth of Rody’s lips, the way he exhaled like he had been holding this in for years. When you finally pulled back, his eyes were wide.

“You—” His voice cracked, and he coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You really do so much for me?”

You glanced up at the tiny, unconscious bird. “…Yeah, when it comes to you, i’ll do anything”

Rody groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Y/n…. what is this .”

You smirked. “did you like it?”

Rody opened his mouth paused then sighed, shaking his head with a lopsided grin.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Yeah, I did.”

You grinned, wrapping your arms around his waist, and this time

He pulled you in first.

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance

Saiki Kusuo x Non-Binary! Reader

Book 1

Follows the events of Season One

Prologue: Troublesome "Friends"

Chapter One: Girl Problems and Beach Woes

Chapter Two: Ghosts and Guardians

Chapter Three: Sports Festival

Chapter Four: Safety Drills and Clairvoyants

Chapter Five: Ramen Shops

Chapter Six: Christmas Eve

Chapter Seven: New Year's Day

Chapter Eight: Valentine’s Day Chaos and Movie Night Misunderstandings

Chapter Nine: Mothers and Meetups

Chapter Ten: Traveling to Okinawa

Chapter Eleven: Accidents and Reveals

Chapter Twelve: Insecurities and Sweets

Chapter Thirteen: Punk Transfer

Chapter Fourteen: Festival Display

Chapter Fifteen: Festival Problems

Chapter Sixteen: Taking Teruhashi Out (on a Not-Date)

Chapter Seventeen: Delinquent Run-In and Teruhashi’s Home-Visit

Chapter Eighteen: Karaoke Party

Chapter Nineteen: Toritsuka’s Possessions and Club

Chapter Twenty: Crepes and Breaks

Chapter Twenty-One: Adventures in London

Chapter Twenty-Two: Summer Break Days

Chapter Twenty-Three: Rich Transfer Trouble

Chapter Twenty-Four: Celebrations

Book 2:

Follows the Events of Season Two

Prologue: Relationships

Chapter One: Cafes and Clothes

Chapter Two: Saiko's Mansion

Chapter Three: Cold Days and Warm Hearts

Chapter Four: Cute Girls and Ghost Girls

Chapter Five: Competition and Curses

Chapter Six: Seasick

Chapter Seven: Stranded

Chapter Eight: Raft

Chapter Nine: Misinformation and Memories

Chapter Ten: Fortune-Telling Transfer

Chapter Eleven: Mark of Death

Chapter Twelve: Family

Chapter Thirteen: Festival Competition

Chapter Fourteen: Elderly Project

Chapter Fifteen: Dates and Judo

Chapter Sixteen: Teruhashi's Tears and Rifuta's Crush

Chapter Seventeen: Occult Love versus Sweet Loves

Chapter Eighteen: Evil Spirits and Pranks

Chapter Nineteen: Insecurity and Talkative Transfer

Chapter Twenty: Investigative Transfer

Chapter Twenty-One: Culture Festival

Chapter Twenty-Two: Festival Play

Chapter Twenty-Three: New Year's Premonition and Valentine's Day Gift

Chapter Twenty-Four: Clone Trouble

Chapter Twenty-Five: Confessions

Specials:

Pride Specials: 2024

Halloween Specials: 2024

Taglist:

@elaemae, @painstakingly-juno, @characterreaderwriter, @melovepurple, @sleep-7372, @w0mank1sser, @geminigengar, @noodleryworld, @leonardo-dabitchy, @janezee12751275, @xenop0p, @ex160-blog1, @boogiemansbitch, @dmitrytherat, @yuriisclumsy, @sixxze, @constellationguy, @k03ume, @sweatyinternettrash, @paastaboi, @unorthodox-gob, @girlswhopanic, @h-i-g-h-w-a-y-t-o-h-e-l-l-l, @drowningfishy, @rinwho, @izzieg3987, @candylp, @jmclouds, @ittomain1, @justamina-blog, @newtscreatures347269, @digital-dumbass, @chronovala, @yappydoo, @mymomsdisappointment, @lvvcian, @kyliexreads, @b3bybunny, @sle3pyh3ad2, @snowy-violet, @jaguarthecat, @isaacdaknight, @newttheglue250, @thelameone101, @peqch-pie, @rai-xxx, @loverzxi, @s0ggyrats, @introvertathome, @pandaquick, @sleepyk0dyz, @girgal73

"stop calling him babygirl, that is a grown man" TELL THE ARTISTS THAT, THEN

i genuinely think one of the things that contributed to the rise of anti-intellectualism is when leftists started conflating characters in a book being sexist, racist etc. with the book itself, or the author, being sexist or racist or possessing any other type of prejudice that they wrote into the book. and then one step further, accusing anyone who reads such a book of having those opinions as well lol. toddler-level media criticism

⋆˚✿˖° ❝𝗜𝘁 𝗙𝗲𝗲𝗹𝘀 𝗖𝗿𝗼𝘄𝗱𝗲𝗱❞ ⋆˚✿˖°

────୨ৎ────

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Geto Suguru x Reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Gojo Satoru x Reader

────୨ৎ────

oh there is another guy that’s a love interest? well let’s just let it cook for a bit first

────୨ৎ────

₍^. .^₎⟆ Synopsis: In a world of curses and power struggles take center stage, you’ve always kept to the simple aspects of life. Focussing on your studies, your friendships and life in the dorms. Though everything changes when Geto challenges Gojo that he can’t win your heart and what happens when Geto realizes that Gojo needs to lose.

⋆˚✿˖° 1. Unintended Study Breaks

⋆˚✿˖° 2. I’ve Played these Games Before

⋆˚✿˖° 3. Men who listen to Mitski

⋆˚✿˖° 4. How it feels to be a girl and do no wrong

⋆˚✿˖° 5. “What kind of woman are you attracted to”

⋆˚✿˖° 6. You are a Cougar!!!

⋆˚✿˖°

⋆˚✿˖°

for my other works-> MAIN MASTERLIST

so like i saw this prompt somewhere on here about a reader reaching…. completion and the other saying “i know baby” and im currently longing for the time when I used to play this game all the time

Kaeya Alberich

The night air in Mondstadt is crisp, carrying the faint scent of dandelions and the distant hum of revelry from the city below. But here, within the quiet sanctuary of Kaeya’s room, the only sound that matters is the soft cadence of his voice.

It had started with a drink, just one. A quiet escape from the noise of the tavern, from the ever watchful eyes of the city. Kaeya had offered, his smirk playful, his voice dripping with charm.

“Stay a little longer tonight, won’t you?”

And you’d said yes, because how could you ever say no to him?

Now, the candlelight flickers, casting warm shadows along the walls, bathing the room in a golden glow. Kaeya leans against the edge of his bed, a glass of wine resting in his palm, swirling lazily as he watches you from beneath heavy lashes. His coat had long since been discarded, leaving him in that deep blue shirt, the top buttons undone, exposing of his collarbone.

“You always look so tense,” he murmurs, tilting his head. His voice is smooth, teasing, but there’s something else beneath it something softer. Something meant only for you. “You let everyone else see you so strong, so put together… but I wonder,” he sets the glass down with a soft clink, his gaze locking onto yours, “who do you fall apart for?”

The weight of his words settles deep in your chest, warm and heavy. Your fingers twitch against the fabric of your clothes, a quiet tell you know he doesn’t miss. There’s something thick in the air between you, something unspoken but understood.

Kaeya rises from his seat, slow and deliberate, his movements fluid like the wine in his glass. He steps closer, close enough that you can feel the coolness of his body against the warmth of your own. His gloved fingers reach up, ghosting over your jaw, tilting your chin up just enough to meet his gaze.

“Let me, just this once,” he breathes, his voice a whisper between you. His fingers brush against your skin, featherlight, as if testing, waiting for permission. “Let me see you unravel.”

And you do.

—

The room is warm, the scent of candle wax and wine lingering in the air. The flickering light casts shadows over Kaeya’s face as he hovers above you, his body flush against yours, pressing you into the soft mattress beneath him. The usual playfulness in his expression has melted into something deeper something raw.

His breath is uneven, his usual composure slipping with every desperate movement. His lips trace slow, open mouthed kisses down the curve of your neck, his gloved hands roaming over your body, mapping you like he’s trying to commit every inch of you to memory.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough, hoarse with need.

Your breath hitches, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. He exhales a soft curse against your throat, his forehead pressing into the crook of your neck as he tries to steady himself, to hold on just a little longer. But the way you move beneath him, the way you whisper his name it’s undoing him.

Kaeya groans, a deep, broken sound, his grip tightening around you as he presses you impossibly closer. His body shudders, his breath ragged, his voice barely a whisper as he murmurs against your lips, “It’s okay… Let go, baby. I’ve got you.”

And when you do, when pleasure overtakes you, leaving you trembling beneath him, Kaeya follows soon after. His breath stutters, his arms wrapping around you like he never wants to let go, his entire body shuddering against yours as he loses himself completely.

Even when the waves of pleasure fade, he doesn’t move, doesn’t pull away. He stays pressed against you, his heart hammering against your own, his fingers tracing lazy circles over your skin. His lips ghost over your temple, pressing soft, lingering kisses against your heated skin.

“I know, baby,” he murmurs, voice thick with exhaustion and something softer something more vulnerable. “I know.”

The night is quiet save for the sound of your breathing, the distant hum of Mondstadt beyond the window. And in that moment, wrapped in Kaeya’s arms, you know neither of you is ready to let go just yet.

VERY SHORT VERY SELF INDULGENT