And You're Mine
How grumpy chubby alpha!bucky finally found his omega
Summary: In which Bucky, the big, scary, 'undesired alpha' was tricked into a blind date where he met his precious little omega.
Note: Read the prequel here 《 Must Be Fate 》
Words: 4.7k++
Pairing: chubby alpha!bucky x omega!female!reader
Warnings: implied 18+ content, implied smut, a/b/o dynamics, self-deprication, body shaming, tiny bit of angst, fluffiness, bucky has a size kink (if you squint), horny-ass bucky has lots of dirty thoughts, vivian being a digusting bitch, protective y/n, even more protective bucky and overall wholesome.
P/S: Ahhhhhhhhh!!! My first omega-verse fic; i have no clue what I'm doing. This is mostly self-indulgent but if you come across this and somehow interested to read it then I hope you enjoy!
Read my other works here: Masterlist
"Are you fucking with me right now?" Bucky momentarily shuts his eyes, slightly titled his chin upwards, as if that'll help the boiling blood within his nerves to cool down.
Steve had expected that his best friend would be a little bit annoyed with his decision to trick him into agreeing to this suprise date but he didn't expect him to get this pissed, "Come on now, Buck. I promise you're gonna love this one."
"You said the same shit everytime!" Bucky almost roared in the middle of the crowded carnival, but he held back with a muted growl.
Ever since he lost his left arm on a rescue mission during his time in the Special Forces Unit, the society had deemed him to be "lesser than" despite the alpha title he was born into.
You would've thought that serving your country for about 6 years of your early 20's would be enough of a reason to make up for the so called "lacking", but no.
Apparently, his heroic contributions, his Sargent rank, and his literal blood, sweat and tears meant nothing when he returned home as an amputee.
Even if he came back with the medal of honor, pinned on the fabric of his uniform, right on his prideful chest; they didn't care. A defected alpha is as good as dead, especially in this modern, competitive society where its a lot more difficult to find a mate.
At first Bucky was optimistic, he didn't let them get to him.
He believed that his mate is out there somewhere, waiting for him, as he is for her.
After Stark Technologies offered him to join their research for under the Prosthetics and Orthotics Division, Bucky was lucky to fully revived his left arm in a form a vibranium prosthetic.
Even then, as time passed, the venomous whispers eventually managed to seep through; like any other poison, it is lethal to his mind.
And Bucky stopped trying to be an alpha. His pride was maimed and he let himself wallow in self hatred; letting his insecurity consume him. Eventually quite literally ate his pain away.
They said that he was rubbing salt to his own wound as now he was not just an amputated alpha, he is also a fat one at that.
With his alpha reputation being at its worst, his chances of finding a mate also went down hill.
"This one's gonna be different. Trust me." Steve claimed.
Bucky doesn't know why Steve seemed really convinced. But he wasn't having any of that, he rolled his eyes into a glare, "And how's that?"
Steve's blue eyes sparked as optimism lit on his face, "Well, first of all, she's one of Peggy's closest friends and.."
"Oh great, now you involve your omega into this." Bucky let out an unfiltered scoff before sarcastically exclaimed, "Just fantastic."
Steve growled at the mention of his mate, "Watch it, Bucky." He warned.
Bucky's drilling glare remained the same as Steve's alpha challenged his.
It's not that Bucky is against the idea of Peggy or any other omega helping him in any way. But, Steve had been annoyingly persistent with these set ups and he was sick of it. Perhaps he was a bit petty bringing Peggy into the conversation but he really was just tired of this.
Steve's scowl gradually soften before he continued his reasons, "...And, your date is actually the one requesting for a set up with you."
And that definitely caught Bucky's attention. Steve could see it, especially when Bucky's ears perked up a little and his ever-lasting frown loosen at the tiniest amount.
Steve smirked triumphantly, "Specifically you."
For moment, there was a hesitation on Bucky's side; and there were only the chaotic atmosphere around them. From the screaming of the riders on the roller coater to the giggles of children at the nearby courasell.
Steve really thought he managed to lure Bucky but he was caught by surprise when Bucky replied, "You'd think I'd fall for that crappy excuse of a lie? No. I'm leaving." Bucky turned on his heels.
"I'm not lying." Steve stopped him as he held on his arm, "Hey, you're gonna break her heart."
"Break her heart? How about mine? Just how many more heart breaks do I have to endure? How much more disappointment do I have to go through?"
Bucky gathered his palms into fists as he recalled all the mean, insulting words his past lovers had thrown at him and all those time he wasted on waiting for his dates to show up.
Just before Bucky planning to lash out, a voice interupted his thoughts "Hey, sorry for being late." Peggy came just in time.
Though it was just her; no sign of his so called date around.
An unexpected sting spreads within Bucky's chest. Of course she would stood him up too. Why was he surprised?
Steve pulled his omega into a tight hug, "Hey, baby. Where's y/n?" He asked.
"She's went to the bathroom." Peggy replied before taking a peep towards Bucky, "She got really nervous when she saw you. She might take some time to calm down. She thought its better if you know." Peggy explained.
On one side, Bucky can feel that sliver of hope creeping in. He look down to where he was supposed to see his feet, but unable to see them as now they're blocked by the round of his soft tummy. That's when the dark thoughts clouded his mind.
Was she just feeling nervous or was she regretting her decision?
After a short back and forth explanation, Peggy swept Steve away and had left Bucky on his own. She claimed that the line to the haunted house will double if they wait any longer. But, Bucky knew that they just wanted to leave him and his date alone.
Like every other date before, Bucky was emotions was all over the place; nervous, scared, intrigued, excited but what's different tonight was he also felt angry and annoyed. Which was not a good thing to feel on a date.
So he went to a Whac-A-Mole machine near the spot where he was supposed to wait for his date. He had to hit something. He just had to. He need to let his anger out one way or another.
His gloved hand gripped tightly on the wooden handle as he waited for the next round. Smack after smack, next was harsher than before, he did felt better. But even if the fire was out, the ashes were still burning.
As he was fixated on whacking the shit out of the moles, a particular scent invaded his nostrils. A sweet-smelling scent; something between a mix of cotton candy and butterscotch-caramel nuances.
It should be normal to smell this at a place such as a carnival; but the food stalls were all the way on the other end of the venue and this scent was too strong, too potent, to be that far away from him.
Bucky just had to stop as he relished the pleasant smell; it was truly a sweet and warm gourmand scent that ushered him in and out between nostalgic memories and pure raging lust.
That was when he heard a voice coming from his back, "You must've been really bored waiting that you started without me." She sounded amused when she let out a quiet laugh.
Even before Bucky had the chance to turn around he knew he was fucked; she just had to have the most captivating scent he had ever smell, and the most beautiful-sounded laughter he had ever heard.
What a foul torment to do to an alpha.
When Bucky turned around, he would've missed her if he wasn't paying enough attention on the lower area of his view.
And there she stood, in all her glory of ethereal beauty; small and sweet-looking in an off-shoulder sundress that does nothing but tempt Bucky to leave his mark all over her exposed skin. A simple necklace adorned with a gleaming stone that shines much like her eyes. A shy smile that may have just triggered some dark thoughts in Bucky's mind on corrupting the poor little thing.
"James, right? I'm y/n." she introduced herself but when Bucky's gaze fell on her rosy lips, all he could think was how bad he wanted to bite and suck on them just see if it'll get redder than they already were.
He was too focused entertaining on his inner beast's thoughts that he just stood there in silence, frowning intensely at the sweet little omega in front of him.
Y/N took his unresponsiveness as a sign of anger, so quickly apologised for her tardiness, "Sorry for making you wait so long. When we..i mean I. When I saw you, the nerves started kicking in." At least she tried to, despite stuttering in the between her words.
Fuck, she's such a pretty doll but above all, Bucky just wanted to protect her from the world, provide for her with anything she deserves, treat her like an absolute queen, worship every inch of her being like his own personal goddess and jesus fuck these urges came in stronger than he ever experienced.
With the lights coming from behind, Bucky's face was in the shadows and Y/N misterinterpret his spell-bound, diluted eyes to something else.
Y/N's brows creased in hesitation as she wonders if Bucky was still mad, "Uhh... oh shit" then her eyes widen in a false realization, "Is the something on my face?" She frantically searched for her phone in her bag.
And fuck does that big doe eyes of hers just casually seduce Bucky to think of how she would look when she's taking his cock in her mouth. She'd be so fucking pretty.
She knew she should've used her phone's camera to re-apply her lipstick instead of the cracked mirror at the carnival's bathroom, "The mirror here is f--"
Yes, Bucky would want to breed her so good that she would always be full with his pups.
She's undeniably... "Perfect." Bucky finally spoke after what seemingly feels like forever.
His voice was laced with a hint of territorial grunt that Y/N was not able to catch what he said, "Hmm?" She titled her head to the side, eyes pleading for him to repeat.
It took Bucky all of his mental strength to hold back his alpha urges when he repeats, "You're perfect, doll. Just absolutely perfect." A cheshire smile decorated his handsome face.
Did he meant to say she look perfect? Well, yes but no. He clearly meant she was perfect, her whole being. But Y/N took it as the prior, "Thank you." She smiled sweetly as her cheeks warmed.
Bucky definitely noticed the slight indent of her left dimple. And he wondered how would it felt against his fingers. "Adorable." He thought as his smile grew wider.
Y/N had been waiting for this moment, to finally had a chance to have this man even for a day, especially considering she had the biggest crush on this stranger that helped her a year ago.
One time she might just had met her potential mate was that one time she had to be dosed with shit tons of scent blockers. And that might just be reason why Bucky may not remember her but that's fine. She had one more chance with him tonight.
After that encounter, his scent, his voice, his presence lingered in her mind longer than she anticipated. At least until the moment Peggy showed a photo her alpha that had Bucky in it.
She grew hopeful and had been pestering her to set up somehow set up date with him.
When the time finally comes, she couldn't help but to fell into panic, "Did I introduce myself? I'm y/n" she completely forgot that she already did that.
Bucky let out the most adorable laugh before he reminded her, "You very well did, sugar." His hand move so naturally to tuck the strand of her hair behind her ear as she fell into utter embrassement.
"I'm Bucky." He finally introduced himself.
"Bucky?" Y/N outwardly questioned. She thought his name was James, as Peggy said it was.
He hummed softly as he nodded, "The name's James Bucky Barnes." He explained. "Just call me Bucky, yeah sugar?" He duck his head to peek on her redden face, "...cause I can't guarantee my behaviour around you if you keep calling me James." He quirked his eyebrow as his teasing grin spreads.
Oh, he was definitely and unashamedly insinuated something quite unholy there.
Bucky straighten on his back as he offered his arms, "Shall we, then? I would love to know more about you, sweet 'mega."
No matter how infatuated Bucky was with this lovely little omega clinging to his arm; a part of him was also on a defensive mode.
His insecurities gets the best of him when he believe that all of this was just an act, a cruel prank that fate has set up for him or maybe he was just having a ridiculous dream, knowing how pitiful his reality was.
Despite his gentle smile and longing gaze that's lingering on Y/N who was having the best time of her life as her bright eyes sparked at the vibrant and colorful firework show, deep down, he couldn't help to think that sooner or later, all of this will end like it always does.
Another heart break he needed to endure.
But, she was truly an angel. She was everything he could ever hoped for, everything that he could ever long for.
He can't belive that she would spend even a second of her time with a defected, fat, angry looking alpha such as himself.
Maybe this won't be just another heart break.
Maybe this would be the cause for him to actually break beyond repairable.
And she would be the catalyst.
"Thank you for today, Bucky. I truly enjoy my time with you." She confessed with a sincere appreciation and admiration towards him. She shyly broke their eye contact as her finger fiddled with soft fur of the teddy bear that Bucky won for her.
It reminds her of him so much that she insisted that he need to win it for her.
So he did.
His alpha couldn't help to puff with pride. "Omega's happy because of us." But his lips remain shut with a loving smile curved on it.
The dimple on her cheek appeared again and this time he didn't stop his hand from reaching out. Though they were gloved, he still let himself feeling the pleasure of grazing his fingers along her cheek, through her dimple and stopped underneath her chin.
Bucky pulled her closer as he dipped down to her level. Warmth sparked in Y/N's chest, as if the fireworks show magically transferred within her instead, "Buck--"
"Bucky?" A women's voice interupted their moment. "Bucky is that you?" She called again and her familiarity had caught both Y/N and Bucky's attention.
"Oh my god! It is you!" her ecstatic tone might have fool Y/N for a second there.
Maybe she's a close friend of Bucky, but when she saw the colors from his face drained quite drastically, she might need to hold on to that thought.
"Vivian." Bucky's tone changed into something Y/N couldn't put her finger on. Sorrow? Anger? Regret? She wasn't sure but it was not a positive response.
The claimed omega sauntered closer and peered towards Y/N with a glint of judgment in her eyes, "And I see you managed to trick another one, huh?"
That triggered a scarring spot within Bucky.
He could still remember the way she accused him of luring and tricking omega to be with him. Apparently, she couldn't stand being him during intimate time especially during his ruts.
And one particular moment when his rut was at its peak and she couldn't stop herself to turn into an unforgiving monster.
"I can't believe I fell for your charms. Then now I need to deal with this." Vivian looked away, unable to look at her boyfriend, hot and bothered, bare and in pain.
Bucky pants and groan as Vivian continued to insult him from the corner of him room, "Look at you, Bucky! You look fucking pathetic!" She yelled as she angrily pointed her hands towards him.
He turn to his side facing her, and curled his body to manage the raging pain of wanting to stick his cock into something. Vivian was to busy ranting that she couldn't see the fire in Bucky's grilling frown.
"You can't expect me to touch you now especially with your big fucking belly spilling out like that. God, you're sweating like damn dog and you fucking reek!" Her eyes narrowed and her nose wrinkled in disgust before she continued, "And don't get me started with that wretched arm of yours."
That's it. Bucky was not having any of it anymore. He was seconds away from slamming Vivian's face to the wall as his primal alpha needs to aggress were also heighten in his rut.
"Then, get the fuck out of my house, you useless annoying bitch." Bucky growled through his pain.
Vivian was not able to catch a breath as her mouth hang open in shock. Bucky never been that harsh with her but honestly it was about time he did.
"Don't even think of coming back." He warned as she closed the doors behind her.
Unknowingly leaving Bucky's heart bruised and battered.
That was almost a year ago. Bucky gave her the benefit of a doubt as he thought maybe she would change once she find her the love life but apparently she is as vicious as ever.
The tall blonde continue to linger as she asked, "Did you know? About that arm of his?"
Y/N didn't know what she was talking about but she didn't want to entertain this woman, especially when Bucky was clearly uncomfortable with her presence.
Though her silence only lead Vivian to speculate, "Aww, you poor thing, you don't know, do you?" Her mockery was getting worst, "It's fake, honey. He lost his arm many years ago." She flicked Bucky's left arm with long bird-like nails; or claws, that seemed more accurate.
Bucky caught the way Y/N's eyes briefly glanced at his covered arms then his gloved hand. What was she thinking then? Does she think that he was defected? That he is a damaged goods?
He couldn't help to let his mind wonder to the worst case scenarios and to make the unpleasant situation even worse Vivian slightly tugged Bucky's jacket to the side.
Revealing his round and plushy belly, "And fuck did you get bigger?" She sneered as the ruthless insult continue to spill.
"Shut up." Y/N's broken silence caught them off guard.
Vivian scoffed, "What?"
Y/N piercing gaze landed on Vivian's hand still tugging Bucky's jacket. She harshly grabbed her on the wrist, didn't care whether if her nails would dug into the woman's skin.
"I said..." The air felt heavier, only for Y/N to shove more force to it when her voice dropped a few octaves down, "Shut the fuck up before I tear your throat apart."
How dare she insult her alpha, especially when Y/N was right there with him.
"Are sure you want to do that?" Vivian's alpha suddenly stepped in. Even though he clearly was not interested in the matter a few seconds ago.
Y/N took a step forward, "Try me." She dared him.
"I might as well fuck your balls up while I'm at that, huh? Maybe you'll learn a thing or two about subduing your insolent omega."
Oh, she meant what she said; its especially clear when the growling started to peak a presence through her voice.
The taller was bright red, with embrassment and anger, "You're talking to an alpha. Know your place 'mega!" He forced his alpha command on her.
She fought back as much as she could but of course she was forced to submit. When the alpha tried to reach for her, that's when Bucky blocked his way.
Bucky's demeanour completely changed into something different. His meek presence vanished and now turned into a pure and primal rage. Good thing was he contained it quite well so he won't cause a scene but his gaze degrades the one before him.
Though the alpha was slightly taller but Bucky was certainly bigger and being a veteran, of course he'd be stronger. One wrong move, he might get a chance to meet the grim reaper sooner than he'd expect.
It felt as if Bucky was towering over the alpha, as he challenged him to come a step further, "Touch her and you're dead." Bucky let out a deep, murderous growl as he threatened.
The alpha was about to protest but was forced into a frozen state as he look into Bucky's sapphire eyes; there was something ominous about it, something dark and dangerous.
Being overwhelmed by Bucky's strong scent of rage, Vivian quickly pulled her alpha away, "Let's just go... They're not worth it." She coaxed, and the alpha agreed.
Before they leave, she managed to slip a last comment, as she wishes luck to Bucky, "Goodluck keeping this one." She thought she was being sleek when she whispered so quietly but Y/N heard that just fine.
When Y/N snapped out of the alpha command, she grunted, "I'm gonna kill her." What a menancing look in those coffee-stained eyes of hers.
Bucky only softened to her threatening aggressions, "No, you're not " he rubbed his hand to the sides of her arms, trying to calm her down.
Which failed miserably when she replied, "Watch me." She spun around, eyes searching in the crowd, trying to spot a glimpse of the rude couple.
"Hey hey, omega." Bucky quickly catch her before she could walk further, pulling her back to his chest, both of his arms securing her waist, "Calm down. Shhh shhh." Bucky let out a calming rumble from within his chest, coaxing her softly, "Killing is not necessary, sugar."
Despite her tensed body were starting to relax, her mind certainly wasn't, "And why the hell not?" Her small hands gripped onto the fabric of Bucky's jacket on his arms.
"No one deserved to be treated like that." She whispered softly as Bucky continued to kiss the top of her head, mumbling quiet 'I know, doll. I know'
"You don't deserve to be treated like that, Bucky." Her voice shivered despite her efforts to conceal them.
Bucky loosen his grip and turned her to face him. His loving gaze took in every single one of Y/N's sweet features; from her teary eyes to her redden nose and pouty lips.
He wanted to kiss each of them, in hopes of making her feel better. But he doesn't want to take any chances as he had already made a bold move to hug her from behind and kiss her head prior.
Bucky looked down at his dark midnight glove, and Y/N took his lead. Before she could say anything, Bucky started pulling each one off. Revealing his calloused right hand and a shiny black and gold prosthetic on the other.
He can't see her reaction to his vibranium arm, but he imagined the worst. He took in a shaky breath before he spoke, "Alpha is supposed to be perfect. They supposed to be capable. So that they can provide and protect their omega."
He paused as Y/N wrapped took both of his hand in hers but then continued regardless, "And I am far from being perfect or ideal. I lost a limb and gained pounds in return. I can't hide that fact."
"But I swear to god y/n, I never intent on tricking you or using you, in any way." In the end, Vivian's gaslighting effect of Bucky was still stronger as ever.
Why couldn't he see that there was nothing less about him.
"It's pretty." Y/N titled his left hand back and forth, watching the glow on the gold lines reflect the lights of the carnival; each move create random sparkling dots on its smooth surface, it looks like stars.
Bucky didn't understand at first until she looked up at him, with eyes gleaming with mixture of intrigued and infatuation, "It's so pretty, and Bucky..." She reached her hand to his face, gently rubbing her thumb on his stubble jaw, "You're beautiful. All of you." She confessed.
She carefully pulled her hand away from his cheek, and grabbed his left hand with both of hers, allowing it draw near to her lips before she placed a loving kiss on it, "This arm," Then her hands caressed the softness of his tummy, "this body," before they stopped at his chest where his beating heart resides, "this heart. Every single part of you is beyond beauty itself."
Bucky frowned as he find it hard to believe and Y/N knew that, "I mean it, Bucky."
A short chuckle left her lips as a thought run through her mind, "God, you'd be running scared, if you know half of the things I would love to do to you."
Bucky bit back a smile as he let his teeth sink into his bottom lip.
Y/N continued as she held onto his hands, "But, above all Bucky, you are the sweetest man I've met." There was nothing more sincere than her words, "Yeah I know we just met and what not, but if I can see that just in one night, imagine if I get to know more of you tomorrow or the next day and next week?"
Her grip on him grew stronger as she reminded him, "Don't let an impudent omega or anyone even, convice you otherwise."
"Because Bucky, you are as lovable as a person can be." She placed his palm on either side of her cheeks, purring as the sensation on skin felt so right, "And I am absolutely honoured and proud to be standing here with an alpha like you." She smiled like she was the happiest omega on earth.
And Bucky could not control the overwhelming joy within his thundering chest as it bursts with endless fluttering butterflies. He had never felt such comfort, such reassurance in his life, especially after returning home from the army.
Flickers igniting as he leaned in closer and closer until their lips touched, tentively for the first time. The smell of her cotton candy and caramel, so sweet and so soft, it was almost dizzying, but he was more than thrilled to let it consume him.
Y/N briefly parted her lips to let him in and leaned into the kiss, wanting more of the delicious sensation of his lips, his tongue on hers. Bucky wanted nothing more than devour her, memorizing of every single moan that fell into his mouth.
It felt so right; it was exactly was his soul had been yearning for and more.
Breaking the kiss was the reminder to both of them they need air to breath, and Bucky rested his forehead on hers as he took in everything that just happened.
While Y/N found herself completely drunk to the feeling of love within her body and soul, she whispered dearly as she scatters most tender kisses all over Bucky's face, "You're so pretty. So perfect. So... mine."
And that caught Bucky in another spiral of confusion; she could see it in face especially with his sapphire eyes being as wide as they were.
She giggled amusingly before she proposed, "Will you be mine, James Bucky Barnes?"
God, he was supposed to be the alpha here. But what can he say, his omega is quite a special one.
He breathed a relief sigh, "Yes." Leaned in for a quick taste of her lips before asking his a question of his own, "And you're mine?"
Her nose crunched as she booped its tip on his, "Always." She replied. Bucky could feel her smile against his lips and so does she.
Unbeknownst to the happy couple, a few feet away from them was Peggy who was busy clicking her camera away, trying to get the best shot she could out of the couple while Steve was trying hard to hold back his proud sniffles as he stood guard near his omega.
End.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
A/N: Sooooooo what you think? Feel free to give feedback I love reading your thoughts!
4K notes
·
View notes
「 ✦ cloud nine p2.✦ 」
Mattheo riddle × reader [part1]
Summary: The "jinx girl," as they call her, is said to bring bad luck. However, when Mattheo Riddle decides to get to know the school's most neglected girl and takes matters into his own hands, Y/N's life is turned upside down in a mere night.
Warnings:angst, smut, fluff
Words: 13.5k
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
[ A Cry for Help (and Hippogriffs)]
Dear Uncle Ben ,
Consider this my official "You were absolutely right (but with way more heartbreak)" letter. Remember all those warnings you showered me with before I left for Hogwarts? Werewolves, Dementors, rogue Gillyweed incidents (honestly, who even uses that stuff anymore?) You covered the whole spectrum of nightmarish magical creatures. But why, oh why, did you neglect to warn me about charming Slytherins with a really really pretty smiles and the ability to shatter hearts ?
Yes, Uncle Ben, your favorite niece (and, let's be honest, only niece) has officially fallen from cloud nine and landed face-first in a puddle of disappointment. Remember Mattheo Riddle? The one with the eyes like melted chocolate and a smile that could disarm a grumpy Hippogriff? Turns out….well, you get the picture. My heart is in as many pieces as a poorly repaired Floo Network."
So, here's the thing, Uncle Ben . **I'm done. Hogwarts can keep its feasts, its Quidditch matches, and its overly enthusiastic Potions lessons.** I wouldn't be caught dead on the Hogwarts Express, and frankly, the Burrow isn't exactly calling my name right now either.
This is where you come in, my valiant (and hopefully broomstick-wielding) savior. **I need an extraction, Uncle Ben . A daring rescue. A grand exit that would make even Dumbledore raise an eyebrow.** Floo powder me out? Sneak me aboard a disguised Thestral? Honestly, at this point, I'd even settle for a well-timed Hippogriff stampede (though maybe not – those beaks look awfully sharp).
So please uncle Ben As soon as this letter reaches your extraordinary hands, pack your Niffler leash, your Newt-approved travel kettle, and anything else that might help
Your distraught (and slightly heartbroken) niece,
Y/N
P.S. Please bring some Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans. Maybe a chocolate frog or two wouldn't hurt either.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
After folding the letter with care, I sealed it using a wax stamp adorned with a grumpy-looking Kneazle, a delightful creation from a talented first-year Hufflepuff. Placing it inside an owl-sized envelope addressed to "Benjamin Scamander, Ministry of Magical Creatures, Department for Beast Regulation and Control," I sent it off with a silent prayer for a speedy rescue.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
Y/N
Consider it done. Talon wasn't thrilled about the Beans (apparently, they don't quite mesh with his sophisticated palate), but the chocolate frogs seemed to appease him. Be ready by nightfall. We'll have a proper family reunion, Hippogriff style.
P.S. Don't worry about any "Hippogriff stampedes." Talon's surprisingly well-mannered (for the most part).
Love,
Uncle Ben
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
After two blissful days away from Hogwarts at Uncle Ben's cozy cottage in the Welsh hills, I woke up to find him bustling about the room. Despite the comfort and serenity of our time together, I couldn't shake off the tears that stained his (probably very expensive) linens.
He lumbered in, a steaming mug clutched in his hand, followed by a bewildered-looking Billywig (apparently, they weren't exactly known for their graceful exits).
"Here," he said kindly, placing the mug on the bedside table. "Peppermint tea. Guaranteed to cure a broken heart… or at least numb it a bit."
I took a shaky sip, the warmth spreading through me like a gentle hug. Uncle Ben perched on the edge of the bed, concern evident in his gaze that battled with his usual amusement.
"Alright, spill it," he finally said, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "What's got you blubbering like a Bowtruckle caught in a rainstorm?"
I choked on a sob, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. "It's just… everything. Mattheo… the rumors… the whole thing feels so stupid."
"Stupid? Sweetheart, this is practically a textbook case of teenage wizarding drama!," Uncle Ben said with a chuckle.
"First, the rumors. Turns out Charlie Spinnet, fancies you and that by the way explains the sudden change in cologne and his haircut whenever he visits. But then instead of acting like a normal human being, he decided to spread those ridiculous stories about you being a jinx?"
I nodded, sniffling. "And then there's Riddle Jr.," Uncle Ben continued, his voice laced with a hint of disapproval. "Used you for a dare? Honestly, these Slytherins – where's the chivalry gone? Back in my day, we at least serenaded our crushes with a well-timed love potion, not a staged play."
"I know right? !" I cried, wiping away fresh tears, he come closer pulling me into a warm hug.
When the last tear finally dried, a heavy silence settled between us. My eyelids drooped, exhaustion pulling me under. "Uncle Ben," I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep, "Can I… can I leave Hogwarts?"
He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. "Is that what you want, Y/N?"
"I don't… I don't want to see him, or them, or…" My voice trailed off, the thought of facing whispers and pitying glances unbearable.
He squeezed my hand gently. "There are other schools, Y/N. Places where you can learn, grow, and maybe even find someone who truly appreciates you."
A flicker of hope sparked within me. A fresh start? A chance to heal away from the prying eyes and judgmental whispers? "Do you think… could I transfer… maybe to Beauxbatons?"
Uncle Ben chuckled. "Beauxbatons? Now that's an interesting choice. But hey, if you fancy learning with a bunch of wand-waving fashionistas, who am I to say no?"
The crisp Welsh air whipped through my hair as I sat on the porch swing, watching the sun set over the rolling hills. Uncle Ben's cottage, nestled amongst ancient oaks, seemed even cozier with the warm, orange light bathing its stone walls.
Thankfully, he'd managed to smooth things over with my parents, convincing them it would be perfect for me to stay with him until I figured out what to do about school.
Weeks melted into each other, and a unsettling undercurrent began to ripple through the otherwise idyllic setting. Every boy who showed even a flicker of interest in me or mustered the courage to ask me out –vanished after our initial encounter. Poof. Gone.
Only to reappear the next day, looking sheepish and pale, with mumbled apologies for missing our planned date . "something came up" or a sudden "family emergency."
kind, awkward Liam, sporty William , even that quiet bookworm Ethan – they all faced the same fate , a freckled boy named Callum, practically leaped over a nearby toadstool with a yelp, his face blanching as if he'd seen a ghost. It was as though the sight of the bumpy amphibian unearthed a buried terror within him.
And it’s seems like anyone who would show any interest in me will face the same fate
Case in point: a particular book I had discussed with a boy who worked at the library and had also asked me out for a date. The next day, that very book was on uncle Ben leaving room the next day and I knew for sure that uncle Ben wasn’t the one who did that .
Curiosity piqued, I went to the library to inquire about the book's whereabouts, only to find the boy in a state of sheer terror. He avoided eye contact and stammered out a nervous apology, his fear palpable in the way he trembled. It was as if he had encountered something terrifying, something that left him traumatized overnight. Unsettled by the encounter, I sought help from another library assistant to locate the book I wanted. This time, the assistant was more than eager to assist, his eyes darting around nervously as if expecting something unexpected to happen again.
Weeks dragged by, each day a monotonous echo of the last.
As I wake up today a tear slipped down my cheek, tracing a warm path through the cool morning air. I cursed myself under my breath, blinking furiously to clear my vision. There it was again, the lingering echo of his touch, the warmth of his smile, all remnants of a cruel dream.
Damn it. I cursed myself under my breath, throwing the covers back with a huff. How dare I miss him? How dare my traitorous subconscious paint him in a loving light after everything? The betrayal, the lies, they were all still raw, a constant reminder of his deceit.
Feeling the need for some solace and quiet reflection, I decided to head to the library
The usually a comforting haven, was eerily silent. A prickle of unease crawled up my spine. Did the boy who worked here quit ? Thanks a lot, Mattheo.
Pushing open the library doors, I was greeted by an unsettling emptiness. Pushing the thought aside, I navigated the towering bookshelves, half expecting some kind of magical mishap – maybe a rogue pixie infestation? With a spine-tingling creak. An unsettling feeling wormed its way into my stomach. Surely Johnny, the cute boy who worked here, wouldn't leave the entire library unattended?
"Hello, Johnny?" I called out, my voice echoing eerily in the vast space. No answer. Great. Just fantastic.
Shrugging it off, I ventured deeper into the labyrinth of bookshelves. The silence pressed in on me, broken only by the soft pad of my footsteps. Halfway expecting a rogue Acromantula to drop from the ceiling or a mischievous pixie to trip me with a strategically placed shoelace, I navigated the towering stacks.
Suddenly, a loud creak pierced the silence. My heart lurched, and I spun around, wand instinctively halfway out of my pocket. The heavy library door swung shut with an ominous finality. For a moment, I stood frozen, every nerve on high alert. Was I alone?
and there he was ... His usual playful smirk was replaced by a furrowed brow and a flicker of something… hurt? Regret? It was a confusing cocktail that sent my carefully constructed facade teetering on the edge of collapse.
My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, threatening to burst from my chest. My carefully crafted mask of indifference felt like it was cracking under the sheer force of seeing him.
the silence of the library seemed deafening, amplifying the chaotic symphony playing out inside me.
I plastered a smile on my face, hoping it came across as confident and not the terrified mess I truly felt. This was ridiculous. He was the one who lied and betrayed me, not the other way around. Yet, here I was, feeling like I was the one on trial.
"Dramatic much?" I spat, my voice laced with venom. "So what's the deal now, Riddle? Bored with your little toad transformation hobby? Decided to haunt the library instead?"
He gave me a slow once-over, his gaze lingering a beat too long. It sent a shiver down my spine, a confusing mix of anger and a vulnerability I desperately tried to suppress.
Folding my arms, I tried to project an air of annoyance. "Look, Riddle," I said, forcing a harsher tone than I felt. "Let's cut to the chase. Open the door and disappear."
As he took a tentative step towards me, the carefully constructed wall around my emotions started to crumble. His eyes held a depth of emotion I couldn't decipher – hurt? Regret? It was a confusing mix that threatened to unravel me.
"You never mentioned you were a Scamander," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. The sound of it after all this time, even laced with the echoes of past pain, was a punch to the gut.
-well technically I was from my mother side but i never dared to say that to anyone afraid to bring shame to the family name , because I never felt like I deserved to.
Tears pricked at the back of my eyelids, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corner of my lips. "And you," I choked out, the words raw with hurt, "never mentioned being fucking liar . Seems like we're even, wouldn't you agree?"
he started to speak. "I know you don’t want to listen—"
Frustration bubbled over before he could finish his sentence. "Why are you even here, Riddle?" I snapped. "You know I don't want to hear your excuses."
His gaze held mine, unwavering despite the storm brewing in my own eyes.
"Stop staring at me like that!" I hissed, the vulnerability I desperately tried to hide threatening to spill over.
Desperate to break the tension, I lunged for the door, yanking on the handle. Panic surged as it remained stubbornly shut. "What's wrong with this stupid door?" I yelled, "We can't use magic outside Hogwarts!" I exclaimed, bewildered. "Did you do something to the door?" Kicking it with my foot in frustration.
Spinning back to face him, my voice trembled with a mix of fury and fear. "What did you do to those boys, Mattheo? Turned them into toads?"
A smirk played on his lips, a sight that only intensified my urge to lash out. "Not all of them," he countered, his voice laced with a hint of something… jealousy? "Why? Do you care about them?"
“Apparently I did “I challenged, my voice laced with a bitterness I couldn't hide, "That's why I agreed to go out with them in the first place."
His smugness evaporated, replaced by a desperate plea that sent a shiver down my spine. "Don't go to Beauxbatons, love," he pleaded, his voice barely a whisper, laced with such raw emotion it threatened to crack the dam of my anger ,considering his impressive stalking skills I wasn’t surprised he knew about that ..
"Don't call me that, Riddle," I choked out, squeezing my eyes shut to hold back the traitorous tears that welled up. When I opened them again, the sight that greeted me was my breaking point.
Hurt, confusion, and a flicker of something that looked suspiciously like longing swirled in his eyes. "Why - why did you keep calling me that? Why not say my name?" he asked, his voice thick with a pain that mirrored my own.
"It's just Riddle for me now ," I said, my voice cold, a desperate attempt to shield myself from the storm of emotions brewing within me.
"Please," he whispered, the word hanging heavy in the air. "Please don't go to Beauxbatons."
"Get out of my way," I snapped, my voice laced with a venom I barely recognized. "I won't say it again."
He took a hesitant step forward, his eyes pleading. "I'm not above begging," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I'll do anything you ask. You say you hate me, then hate me. Ruin my life. Do whatever will make you feel better, just do it in front of me. Stay at Hogwarts."
Shock rendered me speechless. "Don't do this," he continued, his voice cracking. "Not for me, but for you. Don't run away. If anyone deserves to leave Hogwarts, it's not you. Please, don't do this."
His words hung heavy in the air, each one a shard of truth that pierced the carefully constructed wall of anger I'd built around myself. "Let go of my hand, Mattheo," I whispered, not daring to look at him. He released me slowly, his touch a lingering ghost on my skin.
The silence stretched on, heavy and thick. Finally, I forced myself to meet his gaze. My own eyes, red-rimmed and tear-filled, mirrored the raw emotion in his. With a shaky breath, I whispered, "Open the door now , please."
He nodded, his face etched with pain. The door swung open silently, and for a moment, our eyes locked. Then, without a word, I turned and walked towards the door.
But before I reached the doorway, a new urgency filled his voice. "Y/N, wait!" He reached out a hand, but stopped himself before making contact. "I know I messed up. There's no excuse for what I did, but please believe me – I love you. And I'm not giving us up. I'll do whatever it takes to prove it to you."
The weight of his words hung in the air, a challenge and a plea rolled into one. My heart pounded a frantic rhythm against my ribs, Taking a deep. I turned and walked out, leaving Mattheo standing alone in the empty library.
Reaching Uncle Ben's cozy cottage, I fumbled with the latch, my vision obscured by a fresh wave of tears. The door creaked open to reveal Uncle Ben, his face creasing in concern at the sight of me. Before I could even think of a response, I was enveloped in his warm, familiar embrace.
"Merlin's beard, Y/N," he chuckled, his voice laced with concern, "what happened? Did you lose a duel with a particularly grumpy pixie?"
Pulling back, I managed a watery smile. "Something like that," I mumbled, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. Uncle Ben's gaze narrowed, his playful demeanor replaced by a more serious one.
"You know, all this tears and sniffles could lead one to believe…"
He paused dramatically, dragging out the suspense. "You are not pregnant, are you?”
"Pregnant? Uncle Ben, seriously?"
He threw his head back and laughed, a booming sound that filled the room. "Just checking! Seriously that world won’t survive another riddle “
We sat in comfortable silence for a while, the only sound the crackling fire in the hearth.
"You know," he finally said, his voice gentle, "sometimes the heart wants what it wants, regardless of past hurts." He met my gaze, his eyes filled with a knowing warmth. "The question is, Y/N, what does yours truly want?"
"I don't really know," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. "One thing's for sure, though. I'm done running. I can't keep letting fear dictate my life."
“Every time something gets hard, I pack my metaphorical bags and vanish. But this time… this time it feels different."
Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. "There's this anger inside me, this need for revenge," I confessed, letting out a shaky breath. "It scares me, Uncle Ben. "
Uncle Ben reached for me his hand warm and comforting on mine. "There's a difference, Y/N, between righteous anger and destructive vengeance," he said softly. "Anger can be a powerful motivator, a fuel that can propel you forward. But it's crucial to channel it, to use it to grow stronger, not to let it control you."
Turning to him, I met his gaze with a newfound determination. "So," I started, a mischievous glint sparkling in my eyes, "would you help me pack up my bags for Hogwarts? And maybe... with something 'Scamander related' ?"
A playful smile mirrored mine on his face. "Always up for a good mystery, Y/N," .
The Hogwarts Express journey wasn't the gauntlet of whispers and pointed fingers I'd braced myself for. The carriage felt eerily quiet, devoid of the usual gossipy chatter and giggling. A part of me wondered if this unsettling silence was Mattheo's doing.
My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I rounded the corner, the familiar brick facade of the school looming ahead. Taking a deep breath.
I saw him.
He was leaning against the oak tree by the entrance, a casual posture that couldn't quite hide the tension in his shoulders. His gaze was fixed on the school doors, and for a thrilling moment, I thought I might have imagined him there.
But then, our eyes met.
His breath hitched ever so slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before a slow smile bloomed on his face. It wasn't a wide, dazzling grin, but a soft, genuine one that crinkled the corners of his eyes.
The next morning, a nervous energy thrummed through me. Gone was the urge to flee; instead, a steely determination burned bright. I arrived at Charms class, ridiculously early, senses sharp with focus.
Adrian Pucey sauntered in, brow furrowed. "Y/N? What are you doing here so early? Malfoy's the one meeting me," he said, surprise flickering in his eyes.
"Just eager for Charms," I replied coolly. "and you said Malfoy ? No idea, really”
Actually I was the one who wrote him the fake note with Malfoy’s name to come earlier.
He cleared his throat, avoiding my gaze. "Look, about what happened , believe me what Mattheo did to me after was enough to ——"
"Don't worry about it, Adrian," I interrupteda sly smile playing on my lips."Things happen."
His surprise deepened. "You...you forgive me that easily?"
Pulling a cupcake from my bag, I offered it. "Freshly baked. Want some?"
Hesitantly, he took a bite. "Sure, thanks."
"Did you know," I said casually, "Flobberworm milk compels truth?" I winked.
Stepping closer, cupcake in hand, I re-offered it. "Second chances deserve a second cupcake, wouldn't you say?"
He hesitated, then took another bite. "Thanks," he mumbled, cheeks warming.
"Speaking of truth-telling," I said, leaning in conspiratorially, "did you know the tears of a phoenix can be used to create a voice projection charm? Like, if I whispered something to a cupcake with phoenix tears baked in, and you ate it, you'd hear it in your mind ."
He blinked, clearly unsure whether to believe me or not.
"Curious, isn't it," I murmured, "the things you can learn when you spend your summer with magical creatures."
Adrian stammered, "Wh-what have you done?"
"Ever wonder what happens when a Hufflepuff marries a Slytherin?" I continued, savoring his confusion.
A playful glint entered my eyes. "Well, for one, someone might get a taste of their own medicine," I quoted my mother with a smirk.
He attempted nonchalance. "Kids would be too good for Slytherin, not quite Hufflepuff."
"And that," I said, a triumphant smile blooming, "is where things get interesting. Especially with a Scamander in the mix.”
I continued, a triumphant grin spreading across my face.“And what happens when you push a Scamander kid too far?" I continued, a triumphant grin spreading across my face. "They use their knowledge, their magical creatures... and maybe a touch of Slytherin cunning for a little revenge.
He backed away, eyes wide.
The bell clanged, shattering the playful tension between Adrian and me. Professor Flitwick,bustled in, his voluminous black robes billowing around him like a miniature storm cloud.
"Good morning, class!" he boomed, "Today, we delve into the fascinating art of Wandless Charms! A skill that separates the truly magical from the...well, let's just say it requires a certain finesse."
Professor Flitwick launched into a lively lecture, demonstrating simple levitation charms with a flourish. As he conjured a teacup to pirouette in the air, I noticed Adrian fidgeting in his seat. Leaning in, I whispered playfully, "Enjoying the class, are we, Pucey?"
He shot me a panicked glance, then mumbled something inaudible. Taking a deep breath, I decided to push my luck a little further. With a mischievous glint in my eyes, I mouthed, "Tell the truth about what you feel of this class ."
Suddenly, Adrian's hand shot up, waving wildly. Professor Flitwick, momentarily distracted, peered over his thick spectacles at the unexpected outburst.
"Mr. Pucey?" he inquired, a quizzical eyebrow raised.
"Professor," Adrian blurted out, his voice surprisingly loud in the quiet room, "I hate Charms! It's useless and frankly, you're a terrible teacher!"
Suddenly, a loud, booming voice erupted from Adrian's mouth, echoing through the entire classroom. "I HATE CHARMS! It's the most useless class ever, I CHEATED on the exam LAST YEAR, and And I've been doing everything just to be the center of attention. I've lied, manipulated, and stepped on others to make myself look better."!"
The entire class erupted in stunned silence, followed by a wave of uncontrollable laughter. Adrian's jaw hung slack, his eyes wide with horror.
Professor Flitwick, his face purple with rage, sputtered, his fist raised in the air. "Mr. Pucey! Ten points from Slytherin! Detention for a month! And perhaps a visit to Madam Pomfrey to check your sanity!"
Adrian sunk deeper into his seat, the laughter morphing into snickers and whispers
The laughter slowly faded, replaced by the echoes of Professor Flitwick's threats. I couldn't help but stifle a triumphant smirk. Adrian practically resembled a puddle of misery in his seat, the color completely drained from his face. Mission accomplished.
Just as I reached the aisle, a hand shot out, grabbing my waist in a surprisingly firm grip. Before I could yelp in surprise, two strong hands was on either side of me , pinning me against the cool stone wall. I found myself staring into the eyes of none other than Mattheo .
"That," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine, "was fucking hot."
He brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear with his thumb, Our gazes locked, the air crackling with sudden awareness.
My gaze remained steely, unflinching. "You liked that?" I challenged, my voice laced with a dangerous edge.
"I like everything you do," he replied with a smirk.
"Good," I said, leaning in closer, my voice barely a whisper. "Because that was just child's play. compared to what I'm planning for you, Riddle"
The bell echoed through the hallway, shattering the moment. Mattheo reluctantly released me, a hint of something akin to fascination flickering in his eyes. "Can’t wait my love ," he winked, a mischievous glint sparkling within, before disappearing into the throng of students.
My success with Adrian fueled a mischievous fire within me. The thrill of using magical creatures for a little payback was intoxicating. Professor Flitwick's class became my testing ground, a petri dish for brewing delightful chaos.
Every person who participated in the stupid play faced my revenge; none escaped unscathed.
The once dreaded nickname "Jinx Girl" had faded into a distant memory. This year, I was Lady Luck, a title whispered with a mix of awe and amusement. My string of successful pranks, each meticulously crafted with a dash of magical creature mischief, had transformed my reputation.
The whispers started subtly, like the rustling of leaves in the forbidden forest. "Did you see what happened ? Y/N's behind it, for sure!" or "Isn't it strange how everything's turned around for her lately?" It was a subtle shift, but the air crackled with a new awareness. The "Jinx Girl" label was fading, replaced by a more intriguing title - Lady Luck.
One gloomy afternoon, as I settled into a plush armchair by the crackling fire, a hesitant knock echoed through the room.
"Come in," I called out, peering over the worn pages of a Charms textbook.
The door creaked open, revealing a sheepish-looking Charlie . His blonde hair seemed to lose its usual vibrancy under the dim light, and his freckles stood out starkly against his pale face.
"Y/N," he mumbled, scuffing his worn boots on the floor. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Sure, Charlie," I said, patting the empty space beside me.
He shuffled in place, fiddling with his wand. "It's... well, everything. The rumors, the play, everything."
“ Look, Y/N, I'm so incredibly sorry. I know I shouldn't have spread those rumors. I... honestly, I was a complete idiot."
"I thought," Charlie continued, his voice laced with shame, "that if I spread those rumors, every boy would stay away from you. I didn't think it would get this bad."
A mixture of anger and curiosity bubbled within me. "Why, Charlie?" I asked, my voice calmer than I felt.
He took a deep breath, his gaze filled with regret. "I… I like you, Y/N a lot since we were just kids but you never noticed me ," he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. "And when I saw you with Mattheo, well, and after everything he did..."
He hung his head. "And the play," he mumbled. "It was me. I told Adrian about your past. I was so angry… jealous, really. After seeing you with Mattheo."
A wave of emotions washed over me. Anger for his actions, confusion for his feelings, and a spark of something else – mattheo wasn’t the one who told them about what happened .
Taking another deep breath, I met Charlie's gaze. "Those rumors hurt," I admitted, my voice firm but gentle. "And the play…" I trailed off, choosing my words carefully. "It was a low blow, Charlie. But…" I hesitated, searching for the right words.
"But you were scared," I finished, a hint of empathy softening my tone. "Jealous, even. It's okay to feel those things, Charlie."
He looked up, a flicker of hope igniting in his blue eyes. "Do you… forgive me?"
I studied him for a moment, taking in his genuine regret. "I do," I said finally. "But forgiveness doesn't erase the consequences. You hurt me, Charlie, and you hurt others I will never forget that ."
Charlie's shoulders slumped. "I know," he said, his voice filled with remorse. "I'll do anything to make it up to you."
I smiled faintly. "Please don’t do anything a normal apologize would do ."
Months had passed since I last set foot in the library, and the scent of aged paper and leather, a familiar comfort that once soothed my soul, now felt laced with a bittersweet pang. Yet, stepping back into the hushed haven felt like tumbling through a time warp. The scent of aged paper, the rhythmic tick of the grandfather clock, even the worn patches on the armchairs – everything whispered memories of Mattheo, both sweet and stinging.
the silence thrummed with echoes of hushed conversations and stolen glances. Memories of stolen moments with Mattheo – whispered secrets amongst the stacks, fingers brushing as we reached for the same book – played in a loop behind my closed eyelids.
A sigh escaped my lips as the heavy oak door shut with a soft thud behind me. The vastness of the library stretched before me, empty shelves yawning like forgotten dreams. No bustling librarians, no chattering students hunched over dusty tomes. Just me, adrift in a sea of silence, the weight of the past clinging to my every step.
But then I saw him.
Mattheo stood near the Charms section, a sly smirk twisting his lips. His eyes, usually filled with a cool amusement, held a challenge this time. A knot of tension formed in my stomach.
"You forgive him so easily," he drawled, his voice low enough to carry only between the towering bookshelves.
He gestured towards an empty space beside him, a clear invitation. My pulse quickened. Part of me wanted to whirl around and storm out, to deny him the satisfaction of any reaction. But another, more curious part, craved to know what game he was playing.
With a measured breath, I sauntered towards him, my chin held high. "Forgive who?" I asked, feigning ignorance.
He raised an eyebrow, the smirk deepening. "Come now, Y/N," he said, his voice a silky murmur. "Don't tell me you haven't had a heart-to-heart with Spinnet already."
"What do you really want, Riddle?" I demanded, my voice trembling with a mix of hurt and confusion.
Mattheo took a shaky breath, his hand reaching out hesitantly before retracting. "I can't do this anymore, Y/N," he confessed, his voice raw. "I thought if I gave you some space..."
"Space?" I scoffed, tears welling up again. "Space? You call watching me all summer, space? I know what you did to those boys, and then threatening everyone in this school on the first day to not talk or do anything to me space??" I yelled, tears streaming down my face.
The words tumbled out, fueled by a wellspring of hurt I hadn't even realized I was holding onto. "I don't understand, Mattheo! I don't really understand. I've dealt with difficult things before, truly awful things, but none of them hurt as much as this betrayal. Why? Why can't I get over it? Why does it feel like someone ripped open my soul and stomped on it a million times? Then it hit me. You did that, Mattheo. You."
My voice broke, replaced by a choked sob. "You showed me a love I never knew existed, a love I never dared to dream of , showered me with affection and tenderness. You touched parts of my soul I never knew were there. Every inch of me, every piece of me – my heart, my mind, my soul – had your name written all over it , Every fiber of my being, every beat of my heart, seemed to have your name etched upon it. And then, you snatched it all away.. They say it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, but that's a lie. Because feeling your love, then losing it, is the worst pain I've ever experienced.”
The air crackled between us, thick with unspoken emotions and the sting of my tears. Mattheo inched closer, his warmth a stark contrast to the turmoil within me. I could feel his breath whisper against my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine.
"Y/N," he pleaded, his voice husky with emotion ."I know you don't believe me," he confessed, his red- eyes searching mine .
“but this feeling... it terrifies me. I've never felt like this before. Never cared about anyone but myself and Enzo . But then you came along. The purest thing I've ever have , the closest I'll ever get to heaven."
His words hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the arrogant facade he usually presented.
"I miss you," he continued, his voice raw with longing. "I miss what we had. The way your smile could light up a room, the way your cheeks would flush the prettiest shade of pink ."
He paused, his hand hovering hesitantly near mine. "I can't do this anymore. This game... it's torture. Every stolen glance, every witty banter, it just makes the truth harder to bear. Tell me what you want me to do. Name it, anything. But please, just end this charade. It's killing me “
A tremor ran through him, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of genuine fear in his eyes.
He looked at me for a second, taking a shaky breath. Then, the words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered. "I love you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm not afraid to say it anymore. I regret not approaching you properly, i regret taking that stupid dare ."
His gaze held mine, desperate for any sign of reciprocation. "You asked if everything between us was a lie," he continued, his voice low. "But listen to me now. You're the truest thing that's ever happened to me. I love you, Y/N. And I can't stand there watching you, knowing I can't hold you. I never wanted to hurt you, And I promise, I'll never let anyone hurt you again"
My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo in the quiet library. Every fiber of my being yearned to believe him, to reach out and melt into his embrace. But the betrayal was still fresh, a gaping wound that pulsed with pain.
"I can't trust you anymore, Mattheo," I choked out, the words a bitter truth. "Even if I want to, I can't. Every word you say feels like another lie. I hate you," I confessed, the words ripping from my throat. "I hate you so much for making me want to forgive you. I hate you because I love you so much."
"Don't cry," he pleaded, his voice thick with a desperate sincerity. "I'll do anything. Just say it, and I'll do it."
The promise hung in the air, tempting and dangerous. I reached up and covered his hand with mine, the warmth seeping into my chilled skin. Despite the storm raging inside me, a small part of me craved the comfort of his touch, the solace of forgiveness.
"Then let me go, Mattheo," I whispered, the words tasting like ashes in my mouth. "Let me go. Don't approach me. Don't try to fix anything. Just let me go."
The pain in his eyes mirrored the turmoil within me. "Is that what you truly want?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
I could only nod, a fresh wave of tears cascading down my face. Every part of me ached to forget the past, to bury my head in his chest and feel the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat. But the betrayal was a wall I couldn't climb over, not yet.
"Then I will do it ,love." He brushed away my tears one last time, his touch lingering for a heartbreaking moment before he took a step back. The pain in his eyes was a something i could never forget.
He gave me one last, lingering look before turning and leaving the library, the heavy oak door closing with a finality that echoed the slamming shut of my own heart. The air hung heavy with unspoken emotions, the weight of my decision pressing down on me.
My revenge, I realized with a bitter pang, tasted worse than Flobberworm milk and phonics tears on cupcakes. But in that moment, I didn't realize that in punishing him, I was condemning myself to an equally excruciating torture
Days bled into weeks, each one stretching out with the agonizing slowness of a Dementor's kiss. What I had envisioned as a sweet victory – Mattheo squirming under the weight of my indifference – felt more like a self-inflicted Cruciatus Curse.
The once-familiar halls of Hogwarts became a minefield of awkward silences and stolen glances. Every corner held the ghost of his laughter, every shadowed alcove whispered echoes of his touch. Avoiding him became a constant, exhausting dance.
In Herbology, Professor Sprout droned on about the magical properties of Bubotuber pus, but all I could focus on was the empty space beside me. It had become a glaring absence, a constant reminder of the warmth that used to be there.
Across the room, I could feel his gaze burning into me. But when I dared to steal a glance, his head would be bent diligently over his textbook, his jaw clenched tight. It was a practiced act of indifference, a mask that mirrored the one I wore.
Lunch in the Great Hall was an ordeal. I'd scan the long Slytherin table, searching for any sign of him. Relief would flood me when I wouldn't see him, only to be replaced by a hollow pang of disappointment.
One day, as I shuffled through the crowded hallway, I felt a presence looming behind me. My heart hammered a frantic tattoo against my ribs. I quickened my pace, clutching my books tighter, willing myself to disappear. But the presence remained, a silent taunt.
Finally, unable to bear the suspense any longer, I chanced a peek over my shoulder. My stomach lurched. It was him, his face a stony mask, his eyes fixed on a point far beyond me. He sidestepped me with practiced ease, not even a flicker of recognition in his gaze.
The charade was relentless. In Potions, Professor Snape's scathing remarks seemed muted compared to the deafening silence between Mattheo and me. We brewed our Draught of Peace with a silent intensity, each movement a calculated act of avoidance.
The whispers started subtly, like the rustle of leaves in a slight breeze. "Did you see them? Not a single word!" one student would murmur to another. Soon, the whispers morphed into open stares, the entire school buzzing with the unspoken tension between us.
It was as if by avoiding each other, we'd created a spectacle far more dramatic than any confrontation could have been. The unspoken longing, the raw emotions hanging heavy in the air – it was a story more captivating than any Quidditch match.
What hurt the most ? I couldn't escape the feeling that everyone else was living their lives, while mine was trapped in this agonizing purgatory of unspoken emotions and a love I couldn't embrace or deny.
The silence between us was deafening, a reminder of the bond we'd shattered. My carefully crafted revenge felt hollow, a Pyrrhic victory that left me as desolate as the empty space beside him. The ache in my chest had little to do with anger and everything to do with a longing I couldn't name.
Then came the worst part. It wasn't just the awkward silences or stolen glances at him interacting with others. It was the way the girls around me perked up, their smiles a bit too wide, their laughter a bit too forced. They saw the distance between Mattheo and me, the void where his presence used to be, as an open invitation.
Professor Sprout's well-meaning attempt to pair us up for a project backfired spectacularly.
Mattheo, his usual smirk replaced by a practiced indifference, meticulously tended to his Venomous Tentacula while I wrestled with a particularly stubborn Flobberworm. The silence between us was thicker than the sap dripping from the Bubotuber pus. We moved with a practiced efficiency, avoiding eye contact, our movements a painful ballet of unspoken hurt and when he was finally done with his part he left without even glancing at me .
Across the room, laughter erupted. A pretty brunette girl, Astoria Greengrass, leaned in conspiratorially towards Mattheo, a giggle escaping her lips. He threw his head back, a genuine smile lighting up his face, a sight that sent a spike of jealousy through me.
My Flobberworm wriggled free, sending a spray of dirt flying. Professor Sprout's raised eyebrow and stern lecture were a welcome distraction from the scene unfolding across the room. The warmth in Mattheo's laughter, the ease with which he interacted with Astoria, was a sharp contrast to the icy distance he maintained with me.
The worst part, however, wasn't the girls themselves. It was the way they looked at me – a mixture of pity and smug satisfaction. Their gazes seemed to say, "See? Now you see what you had and threw away."
Another day, another ordeal. During Charms, a boy from Ravenclaw, Michael Corner, sidled up to me, his voice a steady stream of nervous chatter. He droned on about the upcoming Quidditch match, his words blurring into background noise.
Across the room, I stole a glance at Matteo. He sat slumped in his chair, his gaze fixed on the textbook in front of him. But a flicker of movement caught my eye. His jaw clenched slightly, knuckles turning white as he gripped the book. He didn't turn towards me, didn't acknowledge Michael's presence. It was as if I, and the boy beside me, simply ceased to exist.
A pang of something akin to disappointment shot through me. Was this truly what he’s doing ? erasing me from his memory? The silence between us, once deafening, now felt suffocating. I craved a reaction, anything to break the monotony of our charade.
Days bled into weeks, each one a monotonous echo of the last. Lunch in the Great Hall was an exercise in self-torture. I sat with some girls from my class , their cheery chatter a stark contrast to the turmoil within me.
Across the room, Mattheo sat with a group of Slytherins, his usual arrogance back in place. He spoke in hushed tones, his eyes scanning the room. Did they land on me? I couldn't tell, wouldn't allow myself to hope.
Suddenly, Draco Malfoy sauntered over, a smirk playing on his lips. He leaned in, whispering something in Mattheo's ear, his gaze flickering towards me. A flicker of something – anger, maybe? – crossed Mattheo's face before he schooled his features back into indifference.
Draco's smirk widened, punctuated by a loud laugh. The sound grated on my nerves, a confirmation that he had successfully moved on, leaving me drowning in the wreckage of our broken connection.
The once vibrant halls of Hogwarts had become a constant reminder of what I'd lost. The whispers, the pointed looks, the morbid fascination with our unspoken war – it all felt suffocating. The silence between us, once deafening, now resonated with a profound emptiness.
In my quest for revenge, I had succeeded in destroying not just him, but a part of myself. And as I stared across the Great Hall, the bitter truth settled in – the only thing more unbearable than his betrayal was his indifference.
The ache in my core pulsed with every stolen glance at Matteo. A single, accidental lock of eyes during Charms was all it took to reignite the inferno I'd thought I'd extinguished. The familiar heat bloomed in my cheeks, spreading downwards, a stark reminder of the raw, physical connection we shared.
Driven by an insatiable hunger, I succumbed to temptation, seeking solace in the darkness of night. With trembling hands, I slipped my fingers inside my pants, yearning for the touch of his hands upon my skin. But no matter how fervently I imagined his touch, it was futile, a poor substitute for the real thing.
His absence loomed large in my mind, a constant reminder of the void he had left behind. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I grappled with the overwhelming sense of loss, longing for the warmth of his embrace.
In the silence of my room, I cried myself to sleep, the weight of my unfulfilled desires weighing heavily upon me. No matter how hard I tried to bury them, the flames of passion continued to burn, fueled by the memory of his touch.
The next day crawled by, each tick of the clock echoing the heavy weight in my chest. Just as I contemplated escaping to the familiar comfort of the Slytherin common room, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows of the deserted hallway – Enzo.
His usual carefree air was replaced by a somberness that mirrored my own. "Y/N," he started hesitantly, his voice uncharacteristically unsure.
"Enzo, hi," I greeted nervously. "Are you... are you alright?"
He paused, his gaze flickering with concern. "I need to talk to you," he finally said, his voice low.
"Sure," I whispered, a nervous smile tugging at my lips.
He gestured towards an empty classroom beside us. We entered, the silence suddenly thick and heavy.
"It's about Mattheo," he began, his voice dropping even lower.
My heart hammered against my ribs,
"What about him?" I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.
Enzo took a deep breath, his gaze flickering with an emotion I couldn't decipher. "He — He has a really dangerous disease Y/N," he blurted out, the words heavy in the quiet hallway.
Enzo's words hit me like a Stunning Spell. My breath caught in my throat, the air suddenly thick with a suffocating weight. Disease? Mattheo? It couldn't be true. The anger that had simmered within me for weeks flickered, threatened by a spark of something else – a flicker of fear, of a terrible, dawning realization.
"Disease?" I choked out, the word barely a whisper.
Enzo nodded. "Serious. He doesn't know how long..." He trailed off, his voice thick with emotion. "But he's getting worse every day. Refused to tell you himself, stubborn git."
Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring Enzo's concerned face. "He never said anything," I choked out, my voice thick with emotion. "He wouldn't even look at me."
Enzo sighed, a deep rumble that spoke of a burden shared. "He's stubborn, that one. Especially when it comes to protecting you “
"But how could he not tell me?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.
"He loves you, Y/N," Enzo said, his voice firm. "More than anything, I swear. I've never seen him care about anyone the way he cares about you. I knew what he did was unforgivable , but his feelings for you… they're real."
A sob escaped my lips, tears blurring my vision. The image of Mattheo, his usual arrogance replaced by vulnerability, echoed in my mind.
"you deserves to know," Enzo said, his gaze unwavering. "Even if you can't forgive him, even if you hate him… you deserve to know the truth."
Tears streamed down my face, a mixture of grief and confusion.
"He'll do anything for you, you know," Enzo continued. "Hiding this… it's killing him. More than the illness itself."
Another sob escaped my lips. The anger, the carefully constructed walls of indifference – it all seemed so petty now, dwarfed by the weight of his illness. All this time, I'd been punishing him, punishing myself, while he…
Panic clawed at my throat. "How bad is it? How long…?" My voice wouldn't form the question.
Enzo shook his head, a grim expression on his face. "I don't know all the details, Y/N. He wouldn't tell me much. But he's getting worse, and by the way there's no cure."
The weight of the revelation pressed down on me. The silent war we waged, the stolen glances filled with unspoken emotions – it all seemed so meaningless now. All I wanted to do was see him, to hold him, to tell him… what?
Looking at Enzo, tears streaming down my face, I whispered, " Where is he?"
Enzo hesitated, then pointed towards the forest . "He's usually there, you know where , trying to clear his head."
"Thank you, Enzo," I croaked, my voice thick with emotion. "For telling me."
Enzo nodded, a hint of a sad smile gracing his lips. "Just… don't let pride get in the way, alright? Talk to him. Figure things out he needs you now more than ever. ." He squeezed my shoulder before turning and leaving me alone with the weight of this revelation.
Enzo's words echoed in my head, each syllable a hammer blow against my chest. Disease. Limited time. The anger, the carefully constructed walls of resentment, all crumbled under the weight of this revelation. Tears blurred my visionI raced through the castle corridors, legs burning, a primal urge driving me forward.
I didn't care about the stares, the confused whispers that followed. I only cared about getting to him , My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, each beat punctuated by a sob that tore through me.
The familiar path to the Forbidden Forest became a blur. Thorns ripped at my robes, branches snagged at my hair, but I didn't feel them. All I felt was a desperate need to reach him, to hold him.
A sharp sting on my knee brought me back to the present. I looked down to see a crimson stain blooming on my robes, a tear in the fabric revealing a scraped knee. But the pain was a mere whisper compared to the agony twisting in my gut.
The memory of his secret place, fueled my desperate run. It was a sanctuary he'd revealed only to me, Now, it was my beacon, the only place I could imagine him seeking solace in his time of despair.
Bursting through the familiar curtain of trees, I skidded to a halt, chest heaving, tears streaming down my face. My vision swam, but I could just make out the clearing, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun.
Reaching the clearing, I pushed aside the concealing ivy with trembling hands. The familiar wooden door stood before me, mockingly still. I flung it open, ignoring the groan of rusted hinges.
Pushing the pain aside, I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the blood seeping through my torn robes. The hidden entrance, disguised by a tangle of ivy, materialized before my tear-filled eyes.
With trembling hands, I cleared the vines, pushing through the narrow opening. The familiar scent of earth and damp stone greeted me, a small comfort in the storm raging inside.
Inside the dimly lit chamber, my breath caught in my throat, with my ragged sobs as I stumbled towards the bed. Mattheo peacefully sleeping on , his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.
"Mattheo!" I shrieked, the name a desperate plea that tore through the silence. "Mattheo, wake up!"
He stirred at the sound, his brow furrowing in confusion. His eyes fluttered open, blinking away the remnants of sleep. his eyes widening in shock before softening at the sight of my tear-streaked face,the raw panic radiating from my very being.
"Y/N?" he rasped, his voice weak. "What's wrong? What happened?"
Before he could finish his question, I was on him, collapsing onto the bed in a heap of sobs and frantic whispers
His arms wrapped around me. held me close, his voice a soothing murmur against my ear. " it's okay, love," he whispered, his voice thick with concern. "What happened? Are you hurt? Tell me what's wrong, baby did someone…" he trailed off, his voice hardening with a possessive anger."
The sound of those endearment words, so unexpected after weeks of cold silence, sent a fresh wave of tears cascading down my cheeks.
"Don't cry, love," he murmured, his voice thick with concern. "Tell me what's wrong. Did someone hurt you? Did someone say something?"
His gaze dropped to the injury, "Oh Merlin," he breathed, his voice laced with self-reproach. "How did you… why did you come here like this?"
My voice, when it finally came, was a choked sob. Words tumbled out in a rush, a jumbled mess of emotions. "Enzo… he told me… you're sick… I… I thought…"
Mattheo's brow furrowed further. He reached out, his touch tentative on my arm. "Slow down, love," he murmured. "What did Enzo tell you?"
I took a shaky breath, wiping at the tears blurring my vision. "That you… that you had a dangerous illness… that you didn't have long."
A bewildered frown creased his forehead. illness? What illness ? “
"Don't lie to me, Mattheo," I pleaded, tears welling up again. "He said you were… you were dying."
"Enzo that fucker ," he muttered, shaking his head . "He must have been trying to get us to talk." He let out a dry, humorless laugh, the sound sending a fresh wave of pain through me. "He always did have a dramatic flair."
My entire body tensed. Was he lying? My gaze darted across his face, searching for any sign of truth.
"But Enzo wouldn't lie about something like that," I protested, my voice shaky. "He was so worried. He said you loved me, that I deserved to know."
His arms tightened around me "Well, Enzo got one thing right then,"
"So there's no illness?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Mattheo cupped my face in his hand, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. "No illness, love. Just a heartbroken fool who did something incredibly stupid." His gaze softened, searching mine. "You believed him?"
Shame burned in my throat. "I… I was scared,"
Mattheo's expression softened. "Scared about me?" he asked gently, his thumb brushing against my cheek in a soothing gesture.
I nodded, unable to meet his gaze as tears threatened to spill over once more.
“you don't have to be scared anymore. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."A wave of relief washed over me as I melted into his embrace, feeling the weight of my fears slowly lift from my shoulders. In his arms
his playful smile fading, replaced by a sharp concern that etched lines on his face his gaze flicked down to my knee
"Oh Merlin," he muttered, kneeling down to examine the wound. A crimson stain was blossoming on my knee .
"It looks worse than it is, probably," I mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant. But the wince I couldn't quite suppress betrayed me.. He knelt beside me, his touch sending a familiar spark through my body despite the circumstances.
"You shouldn't have run like that," he said gently, his voice laced with a hint of disapproval. "Look at you, all bruised and bleeding."
My cheeks burned, not just from the sting of the wounds, but from the unexpected tenderness in his voice. "I… I just needed to see you," I mumbled, looking away.
A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "Well, you certainly made an entrance," he said, a hint of amusement returning to his eyes. But his smile faltered as he focused on my wounds .
"Here, let me get you cleaned up," he said, his voice firm.
He rummaged through the surprisingly well-stocked medical kit hidden in the corner, pulling out vials of glistening potions and bandages. The air filled with the pungent scent of dittany as he carefully cleaned my wounds, his touch surprisingly gentle.
Each swipe of the cloth sent a jolt through me, a confusing mix of pain and a strange kind of pleasure. Shame battled with a newfound hope as I met his gaze. The anger and hurt that had clouded his eyes for weeks were gone, replaced by a warmth that sent a flutter to my stomach.
"There," he said finally, tying the last bandage with a practiced ease. "That should hold for now."
As he pulled back, our eyes met, and for a fleeting moment, the air crackled with unspoken words. The silence between us, once heavy with tension, thrummed with a new energy.
"I'm so sorry for barging in like that," I mumbled, looking away.
"Hey," he said, his voice firm but kind. " You scared the daylights out of me, but I'm glad you're here."
"Do__Do you still care about me?" I blurted out, the question tumbling out before I could stop it. Tears welled up again, threatening to spill over.
Mattheo's eyes widened for a moment, then a flicker of something warm crossed them.
"Like... are you kidding me?" he said, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "Of course I do."
My heart hammered in my chest. "But I thought..." I trailed off, unsure how to voice the tangled mess of emotions that had been churning inside me.
"You thought I moved on?" he finished, his voice gentle.
I nodded, ashamed of the doubt that had festered for so long.
"I was giving you space," he explained, "the space you said you needed. But believe me, it was killing me."
"Merlin's beard, Y/N. Every time some bloke even glanced your way, I felt like I might hex the lot of them."
My cheeks burned. As I laughed at what he said
his gaze lingering on my lips. "I swear I didn't tell anyone about what you told me that night," he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "I had nothing to do with the play. ,I didn't know they were going to do that I only didn't want you to go because it was connected to the dare and I thought if we just stayed away, it would all blow over."
"I know," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "Charlie told me."
his messy hair softened by the dim light, his jaw shadowed with a hint of stubble, but his gaze held that same familiar warmth that had always sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
He looked so good, so heartbreakingly handsome, a possessiveness rising in my chest. He was mine
I couldn't hold back any longer. With a soft whimper, I closed the gap between us, my lips meeting his in a kiss that was both desperate and tender.
His lips were warm and soft, molding perfectly to mine.The taste of him – a mixture of mint and something uniquely Mattheo – flooded my senses, sending a jolt through my body.
Mattheo responded instantly, pulling me closer until I was practically settling me on his lap , melting into him . His hands slid down my back.
He held me tightly, as if afraid I might disappear, and the urgency in his kiss mirrored my own. It was a hungry kiss, filled with a raw passion that had been simmering beneath the surface for too long.
We explored each other's mouths with a newfound intensity, the taste of him igniting a fire deep within me. Our tongues danced together, a silent conversation filled with unspoken promises and a desperate need for more.
He pulled back slightly, his breath ragged. His eyes, shimmering with desire, held me captive.My own hands tangled in his hair . "I missed you," he rasped, his voice thick with emotion.
The words echoed my own feelings. God, how I'd missed him.
He kissed me again the kiss deepened, a desperate plea for connection after weeks of longing. My hips instinctively swayed against him, seeking a friction that had been absent for too long. The ache in my core, a dull throb that had plagued me, seemed to lessen with each press of my body against his,It felt like a dam had broken, a release after a drought.
But then I felt it – a firmness pressing against my core, a sensation that sent a jolt through my system. It overwhelmed my senses, momentarily drowning the delicious haze of the kiss. As my body brushed against it again, a guttural moan escaped Mattheo's lips. Reality slammed back, and I tore myself away from the kiss, eyes wide with a sudden realization.
"I'm so sorry," I stammered, the words tumbling out in a jumbled mess. "I didn't realize…" my cheeks a fiery red. "Does it hurt you too?"
"Too?"He tilted his head, a playful smile on his face ."What do you mean, baby? What's hurting you?
"I-I just..." I stammered, my cheeks burning like embers. "I don't know... It's just..." Words failed me completely.
His playful smirk deepened the pit in my stomach. "Yeah?" he prompted, his confusion tinged with amusement.
"That would be…" My voice dropped to a barely audible murmur. "That ache, and it won't just go away, no matter what I try."
He chuckled, the sound warm and comforting. "Oh, my love. That sounds awful." He brushed a fallen strand of hair away from my face, his touch sending a fresh wave of heat through me.
"Tell me, love," he whispered, his voice husky with desire, "where does this ache come from?"
before I could confess, a new sensation stole the air from my lungs. His lips, warm and insistent, found my neck again
"Where was that ache coming from, love?" he repeated, his lips soft against my skin, eliciting a moan of pleasure.
"Tell me," he urged, cupping my breast while peppering kisses all over my neck. "I'm still waiting for you to answer me, my love," his voice dominant, commanding my attention.
"It was... down there," I admitted. "It won't go away, no matter what I try," I continued, feeling exposed.
His lips found a sensitive spot behind my ear, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. "And what have you tried to do to make it go away?" he murmured, his voice turning dark .
"I... I tried to do what you did to me before, but I couldn't," I whispered, tears welling in my eyes, their origin unclear. He kissed them away, his lips tender against my skin.
"You tried to touch yourself? Tried to recreate what I did to you? And who were you thinking about while doing it, darling?" he asked, his voice thick with desire.
"You... it was you. I also imagined it was you, but it didn't work," I confessed.
"You're going to be the death of me," he murmured, kissing away the last of my tears. Then he continued, his voice low and seductive, "We need to do something about that then , Would you let me kiss it better?"
Unable to tear my gaze from his, I simply nodded, my voice stolen by the intensity in his eyes.
"Words, love,I need to hear your voice "
"Yes, please," I whispered, the words barely escaping my lips.
The kiss that followed was possessive, a searing claim . When he finally pulled away, his eyes burned with a dark intensity.
"Good," he breathed, his voice thick with desire . "Because I'm going to worship every inch of that beautiful body. Every. Inch. Of. You."
With a tenderness that contrasted with the raw desire in his voice, he gently laid me down on the bed. The plush fabric felt cool against my flushed skin as anticipation coiled in the pit of my stomach.
His fingers brushed against my collarbone as he meticulously unfastened each button of my shirt. His gaze never left mine, the intensity in his eyes sending shivers down my spine.
"That Ravenclaw boy, Michael Corner, what was he telling you?"
His question jolted me back to reality. I blinked, momentarily confused, then recalled, "Oh, right, Michael. He was talking about the next Quidditch match. I didn't know you noticed."
A wry smile played on his lips. "Oh, believe me, I did," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Every. Single. Second. Especially when his eyes kept flickering back over here."
His gaze dropped pointedly to the space where my shirt now hung open, and a blush crept up my neck.
"Believe me," he whispered,"my eyes were on you the entire time."
Heat pulsed through me as his kisses trailed down my neck, each one a spark igniting a fire within. I squeezed my eyes shut, a strangled moan caught in my throat. Nervous flutters danced in my stomach, a foreign sensation that both scared and thrilled me.
A gasp ripped through me as Matteo's cool fingers dipped beneath my skirt. My skin, flushed from his heated kisses, sent a jolt of contrasting sensation against his touch. It was a delicious shock, leaving me breathless.
"Hey," he murmured, voice laced with concern as he immediately stopped, his brows furrowing. "Is this okay? Do you want me to…"
He began to retract his hand, but before he could fully pull away, I reached out, my fingers blindly grasping at his . "No," I mumbled, the word barely a whisper. My voice betrayed me, shaky and breathless. Why did this simple touch feel so earth-shattering?
"No," I repeated, a little firmer this time, gathering my courage. "I mean, yes. This is… I want that." The last few words tumbled out in a rush, so quiet I wasn't sure if he even heard them.
I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to meet his gaze. I could almost picture the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips
A blush crept up my neck as his voice rumbled in my ear, a promise laced with concern. "If you feel uncomfortable at any point, love, just say the word. I want this to be good for you." His touch lingered on my bare skin, a burning ember against my suddenly chilled flesh.
The sincerity in his voice calmed the knot of nerves twisting in my stomach. I knew he wouldn't push me further than I was ready. Taking a deep breath, I met his gaze, my own desire reflected back in his warm brown eyes.
"I trust you," I whispered, the words a shaky promise.
A slow smile spread across his face, lighting up his features like the sunrise.
The brush of his fingers against the fabric of my bra sent a jolt through me. He paused, his eyes searching mine once more, a silent question hanging in the air.
This time, my response was a small, barely-there nod. It was a hesitant surrender, an invitation whispered on a breath. A satisfied glint sparked in his eyes before he continued his exploration, his touch sending shivers dancing across my skin.
Matteo's fingers grazed the clasp of my bra. The touch was a spark that ignited a fire within me, a rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. Instinctively, my fingers tangled themselves in his hair . He dipped his head, his lips trailing a warm path down my neck before finding a sensitive spot on my chest. A soft moan escaped my lips as he teased the nipple
My back arched involuntarily, a silent plea for him to continue. I tugged on his hair, not wanting him to stop, not wanting this exquisite feeling to end.
"Does that feel good, love?" he murmured against my skin, his voice husky with desire.
"Yes," I breathed, the word barely a whisper lost in the symphony of sensations swirling around me. My eyelids fluttered shut, the world dissolving into a haze of touch and taste, the touch of his skin and the warmth of his breath. Everything else faded away .
Moving to my other nipple giving it the same attention .My fingers instinctively tangled themselves in his hair.
A wave of heat washed over me as Matteo's hand brushed against the hem of my skirt soft sigh escaped his lips as his gaze drifted to my soaked panties .
“I’ve wanted this for such a long time, you have no idea,” he murmured, sucking on the skin of my inner thighs as my hands fisted the bedsheets.
“Please,” I begged, feeling no embarrassment about how desperate I sounded. As soon as he began to suck on my clit, all my worries began to vanish. Profane words spilled from my mouth as Matteo took his sweet time with me.
"Merlin, oh, I—" It seemed as if I couldn’t control my mouth any longer; my instincts took over. I knew that I was ready; I wanted him, all of him.
“Relax, baby, I’ve got you,” his eyes were pitch black by now pupils were dilated, a dark reflection of the desire .
A loving smile playing on his lips as he slowly inserted a finger into me. It still felt strange to me, a sensation I hadn't quite grown accustomed to yet. I was tight around his fingers, but my moans urged him on. Adding another finger, he alternated between sucking, licking, then repeating, drawing me closer to my release,a mind-blowing orgasm that I’d never forget.
My stomach clenched, a tight knot forming as a foreign heat bloomed in my core. Blood roared in my ears, drowning out everything except his voice and the frantic pounding of my heart. My head arched back against the pillow, muscles involuntarily tightening around his fingers.
" good girl , Come for me, love,"
A guttural moan escaped my lips as pleasure surged through me, a wave cresting and crashing in a series of shivers. "Mattheo," I breathed, his name a desperate prayer repeated again and again.
"That’s fucking right, love ." he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Say my name,no one else says my name quite like you do. It's a sound I desperately missed."
His words fueled the fire within me, and I surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure, clinging to him as the wave crested and receded. Exhausted but exhilarated, I opened my eyes to find his gaze locked on mine.
A slow smile tugged at his lips as he brushed a kiss across my flushed cheek. The touch ignited a spark within me, and I reached out, my fingers curling around his hand. With a newfound boldness, I drew him closer, our lips meeting in a kiss that spoke volumes.
"I want you Mattheo all of you ," I whispered against his lips, with newfound confidence.
His gaze held mine for a beat, searching for any flicker of hesitation. He saw none, only a reflection of the desire burning brightly in his own eyes.
"Are you absolutely sure, love?" he asked.
"Absolutely sure just be gentle ," I breathed against his lips, the words leaving no room for doubt.
He undressed himself slowly, his eyes never leaving my form. I couldn't help but admire the contours of his body as he revealed each inch of his skin. My fingers tingled with anticipation, and I reached out to trace the lines of his sculpted six-pack, feeling the firmness beneath my touch. His muscles rippled under my fingertips.
My apprehension grew as I looked at his length, my mind swirling with doubts and desires. " will it hurt?" I asked, my voice betraying my fear and curiosity. I couldn't shake the nagging thought of how he would fit inside me.
"I won’t do anything to hurt you. I'll be gentle with you, okay?"he reassured me, his words soothing my nerves.
“Is that gonna fit?”
“I’ll make it fit.” He kissed a trail down the valley between my breasts, his lips igniting a flame against my skin. Each touch sent a surge of heat through me, anticipation building with every passing second.
He ran the tip of his hardness through my wet folds agonizingly slowly, each touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through my body. I could feel myself throbbing with need as he coated himself with my slickness, the sensation almost overwhelming. Gasping for breath, I reached out for his free hand holding it , needing the connection to ground me amidst the whirlwind of sensation.
“Breathe for me, baby,” Matteo murmured, his voice laced with tenderness and desire. "Keep your eyes on me. Let me see those pretty eyes."
A sharp hiss escaped my lips as he slowly began to push into me, each inch stretching my muscles as they accommodated his girth. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, a combination of pleasure and slight discomfort mingling together. , his lips pressing tender kisses against my cheeks wiped away the tears .
As he started to roll his hips, a slow and steady rhythm, the initial discomfort gave way to a rush of pleasure that flooded my senses. Each movement sent waves of sensation coursing through me, building the intensity of our connection with every thrust.
It didn't take me long to get used to the new sensation; my cries turned into moans, loud moans, my nails clawed at his back as he picked up his speed. "You're doing so well my love '." He kept on praising me as I clenched around his length.
“Good girl," . His thumb continued to circle my pulsing clit, sending electric shocks of pleasure through me. Mattheo buried his head in my neck, inhaling my scent as he listened to the rhythm of our bodies moving together. "God, you feel so good, like a fucking dream. I'll never get enough of you," he whispered against my skin, his words sending shivers down my spine.
As I looked down, the sight of our bodies connected together made me moan even louder. I couldn't help but notice the drips of blood on his dick as he moved, a stark reminder of our primal connection.
"I love you, Mattheo. I'm sorry it took me so long to say it, but I do love you more than life itself," I breathed out between heavy moans, my confession hanging in the air like a promise. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I pulled him closer, desperate for more of him.
"Fucking hell, love, are you trying to kill me?" he sucked on my neck, pushing me over the edge for the second time that evening. The feeling exploded in my belly, my moans urging him closer to his own release. Still, I continued to clench around him, my body writhing with pleasure as he rode me through the bliss. His cock twitched inside of me, warmth spreading through me as he released himself inside of me.
I was on birth control pills my mother had made me take them since I turned eighteen, but in that moment, nothing else mattered but the overwhelming sensation of love and desire coursing through my veins.
“ Holy shit,Never thought I could love someone this much. What are you doing to me ?“
"Not even Astoria Greengrass?" I teased, unable to resist bringing that up .
"Don’t you dare bring another woman’s name up while my dick is still inside you," he retorted, his tone playful yet possessive.
I chuckled, cupping his face to kiss him passionately. His response was equally fervent, but a moan escaped my lips as I felt him getting out off me .
Surveying the aftermath, I couldn't help but feel a mix of pleasure and soreness. "I think I've lost my ability to walk," I joked.
"yeah ?" he teased back, laying down beside me. His fingers gently traced patterns in my hair as he leaned in to kiss my forehead with tenderness.
"I will never, ever do anything to hurt you again," he vowed softly.
Smiling softly, I whispered, "I know," before meeting his lips in another kiss.
He broke the kiss with a chuckle" I owes Enzo big time, huh? Best brother of the year?"
I laughed, feeling the exhaustion starting to set in.
"still ,but he'll pay for frightening you like that. Now, how about I take care of you first ?" I nodded, too tired to speak.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅
BONUS SCENE.
We re-entered the castle, his hand never leaving mine. It wasn't a casual hold, but a tight clasp, his fingers weaving between mine like a declaration
Suddenly, Matteo stopped short, his eyes widening in surprise. Following his gaze, I spotted a familiar tall figure with kind eyes and a warm smile – Uncle Ben! My jaw dropped. What was he doing here?
“Look who it is! Isn't that my favorite niece?"
"Uncle Ben? What are you doing here?"
"Ah," he chuckled, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "Professor Flitwick requested a little assistance with a... well, let's just say a certain magical artifact has gotten a bit out of sorts. Seems my expertise is needed to tame the beast, Thought I'd surprise you , and pop in to see how things are going at Hogwarts"
My jaw nearly hit the floor,how things are going at Hogwarts ? Well uncle…
“ this young man was keeping my company , Enzo, wasn't it?", his voice laced with amusement as he gestured towards Enzo.
"The one and only," Enzo confirmed with a wide grin, throwing in another wink for good measure.
My stomach lurched as Uncle Ben's gaze darted down to our hands, still subtly intertwined. The air crackled with sudden tension , his eyes darted from me to Mattheo, lingering a beat too long on the hand that still rested possessively on mine.
"Riddle Jr., isn't he?" he boomed, his jovial demeanor replaced with a mixture of surprise and something akin to panic.
My mind raced, desperately searching for an explanation. "Uncle Ben, it's —" I began, only to be cut off by his frantic question.
" you're not pregnant, right?" he blurted, his voice dropping to a panicked whisper.
My jaw dropped. Enzo choked on a laugh, shooting a helpless glance towards Mattheo, who seemed to be suppressing a smirk.
“you're holding hands! "
Enzo clapped Uncle Ben on the shoulder, his voice booming with forced cheer. "Come on, Ben! Let's not jump to conclusions. They're just kids, figuring things out."
My uncle's expression remained skeptical. He shifted his gaze to Matteo, a guarded look replacing the initial shock. " Riddle Jr. here," he began, his voice tight. "What exactly are your intentions towards y/n ?"
Matteo met Uncle Ben's gaze head-on, his posture unwavering. "Sir," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I deeply regret the way things ended between y/n and me. I know I hurt her, and for that, I'll never forgive myself. However, I care for her a great deal, and I would never do anything to intentionally cause her pain again." His eyes flickered to me briefly, a flicker of something warm passing between us. "All I want is a chance to prove myself worthy of her trust."
"Uncle Ben, I trust Mattheo. We'll take things slow, and I promise to be careful."
"Wow, you two look positively radiant. Blindingly so, actually. Sunglasses anyone?”enzo said wrapping his hands around my uncle shoulders.
Our synchronized eye rolls at his comment were enough to power the entire castle for a week. He held his hands up defensively, a playful grin plastered across his face while murmuring, "I'm still your brother, don't kill me," to Mattheo.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅
Tag list :
@avee-wavee @lovelyygirl8 @lovelyypythoness @timmychalametsstuff
843 notes
·
View notes
Hi babes! So I’ve had this idea running around my brain for days.
Basically Cooper Howard and the reader knew each other pre-apocalypse (up to you wether it was romantic or platonic) but after the bombs go off, the reader makes it to a vault where she is put in a cryopod for 200 years to see that the rest of her vault is dead from asphyxiation (I definitely didn’t think of this by playing fallout 4). So she escapes and later finds Cooper (she recognises him and then realises it’s him), it’s up to you how it goes from there 🫶🏻.
Anyway, I love your work! Hope you’re doing great! 💗
AN | I love this concept. Enjoy❤️
Pairing | Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x fem!reader
Warnings | language; mentions of canon typical violence
Word Count | 3.1k
Masterlist | Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“You look like you’ve got something on your mind, sugar,” Cooper came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist before resting his chin on your shoulder. You made a small sound of content before leaning into him and turning your head to press a kiss to his stubbled cheek.
“I’m just…thinking,” you whispered before turning around so you were facing him. The warm evening breeze swirled around the two of you as you leaned against the porch railing, and looked down the Hollywood hills. He took your face in his hands, brushing his thumb along your cheek.
“You do that a lot,” he teased as you rolled your eyes in amusement, “too much thinking ain’t good for you.”
“Well, between the two of us, one of us has to use a brain cell once in a while,” he scoffed as he gently squeezed your cheeks before pressing a kiss to your lips. When he let go, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, kissing him a few more times, “I love you, you know?”
“I know,” he confirmed with a soft nod, “I love you too, sweetheart. You gonna tell me what you’re thinking about?”
“I suppose,” you sighed lightly, resting your hands on his chest, “do you think that...it seems silly, but do you think that it'll ever happen? The nuclear war. Or do you think it’s all just a big pissing contest?”
“I think,” he took one of your hands and brought it to his lips in order to press a kiss to your knuckles, “that you worry too much too often.”
“I know,” you agreed, “I know I do. I just can't help it sometimes. What if something happens?”
“If anything were to happen, we’d face it together and figure it out,” he promised and while you liked the idea of his sweet words, it didn’t totally alleviate your worries. He’d been trying to convince himself as much as you. It had been a constant in his mind as well. He wasn’t as good of a liar as he believed he was.
“Rest assured Cooper Howard,” you whispered softly, “that I will always find you and be with you. No matter what life brings.”
He pressed his forehead to yours and let out a small sigh. You echoed the sound sweetly before kissing him again, “I promise, Coop.”
“I promise too.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Cooper?” your brow furrowed as you looked at the tall figure standing in front of you. The first time seeing a Ghoul had almost caused you to have a heart attack; you hadn’t been expecting to see someone so…crispy. Being asleep for the last two hundred years hadn’t prepared you for half the things you’d seen in the short time since you’d escaped Vault 111. Like the radroaches - seriously? Weren’t those things bad enough normal? Nature had definitely fucked up with that one.
Some things you could get used to easily, but other things were definitely going to take time. Two hundred years had passed and you hadn’t experienced a single thing. In some ways it felt like you’d been a lamb left to slaughter.
After you’d gotten over your initial shock at the Ghouls, you’d realized, with a heavy heart, that they were just people too. People had suffered unfortunate circumstances but they were still just people…mostly. Realistically you’d been rather lucky when it came down to it. You had a long nap while others suffered.
But you’d recognize him anywhere; you’d memorized every part of him so many years ago. You weren’t sure if you could ever forget him.
But this…this wasn’t who you were expecting to see. Honestly, you didn’t expect to see him ever again, but here he was…alive and breathing. Maybe.
“Cooper,” you took a step closer while he took a step back, his hand brushing along the holster at his side. You held up your hands in a meek attempt to show your innocence; it still made your heart constrict to see his response to you, “i-it’s me.”
“I’m ain’t fallin’ for that one, sweetheart,” he drawled, causing a frown to tug down the corners of your mouth, “I know when I’m hallucinating and I’m not about to go feral.”
“What are you…talking about?” you watched in confusion as he reached into his pocket and grabbed a small vial before downing it in one go. He tossed the bottle to the side, letting it clink off the side of a building, “I don't ... I don’t know what’s going on! I don’t understand anything here, but I know it’s you. I’d know you anywhere.”
He made a sound at the back of his throat as he blinked a few times, still looking at you as if he was trying to decide if he’d already gone feral or whatever it was called. You wondered if he would even possibly shoot you.
“That’s impossible,” he said quietly as he studied you. It was like you were frozen in time - you looked exactly the same as you did two hundred years ago. It wasn’t possible for you to look like that when he looked like…a monster, “you look just like her but you can’t be her.”
“Cooper Howard,” you sighed in exasperation, running a hand through your hair. You’d always done that and he’d seen that look on your face a thousand times before, “I don’t know exactly what happened to me. I-I woke up and I was in one of those weird vaults that they used to talk about and there was no else there. A couple of skeletons and a bunch of these giant cockroaches-”
“Radroaches.”
“Radroaches,” you rolled your eyes and that almost had him let down his guard, “and I got out. I don’t know what year it is and I don’t know what’s happened. I’m just here. And I have no fucking clue what I’m doing or where I’m going or what’s even happening in the world anymore. But I found you. I know it’s you. I told you that I’d always find you.”
He allowed himself to relax as he tried to put the pieces together to see if your story made sense. The worst part of it all was that it made sense. The day the life as he’d always known it stopped, he hadn’t seen you. But he knew that you’d been at the Vault-Tec headquarters that day. It made sense. It made sense.
He hated that. Hated that you were forced to experience this strange new world, and even more that you had been all but abandoned to figure it out for yourself. But he couldn’t deny that there was a palpable feeling running through his entire being at the sight of you. Your smile was just as pretty as he remembered; he thought about it a lot. Thought about you a lot, still to this day, despite the fact that it had been literal centuries.
He’d accepted that you were dead a long time ago. But here you were, a ghost of a life that once was.
You let out a nervous laugh at his silence, feeling like a fool, “are you gonna say anything or am I just going to keep standing here like an idiot?”
“You should turn back around and walk to the nearest vault and pray that they take you in,” was all he managed to choke out as you felt the tears start to sting at the back of your eyes. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, trying to figure out what to possibly even say to him, “you ain’t cut out for his world. You weren’t made for it. You ain’t gonna survive up here on the surface.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you stomped your foot, an unwitting little habit that you had, “you want me to just walk away?”
“Yeah,” he pulled the brim of his hat lower, voice gruff, “I do.”
“Oh,” you scoffed, trying to hold back all that you were feeling, “and what? You’re cut out for this world?”
“Look at me,” he growled deeply, “I’m a fuckin’ monster made for this world.”
You flinched at the sound of the self hatred in his voice. He wasn’t anything like you’d remembered or expected, but he was still your Cooper.
“You should get going, darlin’.”
You turned on your heel, ready to walk…somewhere. Anywhere other than there, left to be humiliated.
“Tell me one thing,” you turned back to face him, finding that he was still watching you intently, “what year is it?”
“2296.”
Your heart almost stopped for a moment as you tried not to panic.
Over two hundred years since you’d last walked the world. You’d been sleeping for over two hundred years while Cooper had been suffering. You had so many questions, but more than anything your heart hurt for everything that he’d been through.
You offered him a nod before walking away, this time for real, trying to figure out what the actual fuck you were going to do.
Cooper watched you go wordlessly, eyes on you until you were but a small speck in the distance.
“Who was that?” Lucy appeared at his side along with the canine companion they'd named Dogmeat, a curious expression on her face, “did you know her?”
“It was no one,” the sharpness of his voice caught Lucy off guard and she raised her eyebrows in question, “just lost.”
“Okie dokie,” she hitched her backpack higher onto her shoulders, “we should keep going before it gets dark.”
“Yeah,” he agreed with her, finding his heart wasn’t quite in it, “get a move on kid.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
This was a weird world. Like really weird. There were creatures that you'd encountered that appeared to be descendants of the ones you'd known during your previous life. Roaches definitely weren't supposed to be the size of dogs. Dogs really shouldn't have been up to your shoulders. And that thing that you'd encountered that was maybe a fish? Wild.
It was all so much to get used to and it felt like you were a child all over again. You had met a kind woman that had taken you into her diner (or whatever a diner was these days) and helped to get you back on your feet. The first order of business? Getting rid of the vault suit; not'd noticed an immediate shift in how people treated you once the suit was gone.
The one thing that hadn't changed? Men. Men continued to the worst, leering shamelessly after you. Looks like not even radiation can evolve that out of men.
You still had not clue what you were going to do with your life or anything really, but at least now you had a safe space to learn to adapt and overcome. Now you just had about two hundred years of history to catch up on. Learning about places called the New California Republic and New Vegas definitely told you that something big had happened.
Everything else, you hoped, would fall into place over time. You did, however, have your suspicions that Vault-Tec were nothing but a bunch of liars confirmed. There was that at least. And you'd learned what a Ghoul was - what Cooper was. It didn't sound like it had been a fun reality for him.
At least if you were going to start aging naturally, you wouldn’t have to suffer in this hell forever.
You were helping around the diner one afternoon when the doors swung open to reveal Cooper, along with a young woman and a dog. Funny, you thought to yourself, Cooper had always adored dogs.
The rag dropped from your hand as blinked wordlessly at them. Neither you nor Cooper said anything, silence thick and heavy between the two of you.
“Do you have any pie?” The young woman asked, a nervous chuckle escaping her lips as she looked around, “and maybe some water?”
“S-sure,” you stammered nervously pointing at the table towards the back, “I'll get that pie.”
And just like that, Cooper was back in your life.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Without Cooper, you weren't quite sure what to do. Honestly, you had been sure what you'd do once you left the vault along, but you figured when you found him that things would fall into place…or make a little more sense anyway. But as you'd made your way through the skeletons that littered the vault, you weren't entirely convinced that this wasn't some sort of fever dream.
And Cooper had turned his back on you.
Only to come back to rescue you.
“What happened?” He asked, his voice dropping softly, almost like he was letting down his guard, “how did you end up in one of those pods?”
“I don't know,” you admitted, wiping your hands on your knees as you looked at him, “I-I remember bits and pieces but not the whole thing.”
He made a small sound of acknowledgment but didn’t say much else. You’d been wracking your brain for weeks now - ever since you’d escaped the vault - about what exactly happened before you took a centuries long nap.
“The last thing I really remember was speaking with that Maclean kid, the one that had recently started working at Vault-Tec. We got into an argument about something and he shoved me around and then…I think he hit me. The next thing I can remember is waking up.”
“Life is funny, ain’t it,” he pinched his brow before looking at you with a pained expression, “Hank Maclean is still alive. The girl I’ve been traveling with…she’s his kid. I think everyone finally found just what kind of a person he is. And it ain’t a good one.”
“He’s still alive,” you breathed out heavily, trying to decide if you were angry with him or…in a twisted way, thankful. You supposed the last two hundred years could have been a lot worse than just sleeping through them. But then again, if you’d been awake and aging, you’d have been long dead by now, “this is all so…weird.”
Silence fell over the two of you for a few bit, as you started at the roaring fire. It was dangerous, or so you’d been told by almost everyone you’d encountered. But somehow with Cooper by yourself, you didn’t feel scared or nervous.
“I looked for you,” he said after a short while as your attention snapped to him, “for a long time. Decades.”
“Really?” your voice cracked on the simple question as he nodded.
“After a while, I realized you were probably dead,” your heart twisted at that, “it was the only logical answer. Unless you’d ended up like me and I would never wish that on you.”
“What happened, Cooper?” you asked softly. You wanted to know but you also didn’t want to push him either. You still had so many questions about this strange new world, “you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
“Your curiosity was one of the things I always loved about you, sweetheart,” he chuckled, almost sounding just as you remembered, “to put it simply, radiation. I got a little bit too much of that radiation and then I became like one of them radroaches, adapting and surviving.”
“Radiation,” you repeated softly, “fuck me. Am I going to-”
“You’ll be fine,” he reassured you, “radiation levels are livable now.”
“Oh,” you swallowed thickly as you gave him a nod, “that’s good…I think.”
“You don’t deserve to have to live in such a world,” he caught your eye and looked at you intently, “in a way I wished you’d never have had to experience it. It would have been easier if you’d just…died that day they dropped the bombs. But in a selfish way, I’m glad you’re here, sweetheart. Still the prettiest face I’ve ever seen.”
You snorted in amusement as your face warmed up, “still the biggest flirt I’ve ever met Cooper Howard. In a selfish way, I’m glad you’re here too.”
“You’re telling me that you’re happy to see his ugly old face?” he asked, his voice turning gruff and bitter, “darlin’, you could be looking at a gulper and it’d be a prettier sight.”
“What’s a gulper?” your mind reeled with possibilities of what in the actual hell a gulper was.
“I…nevermind,” you didn’t need to know about those horrors just yet, “there’s a lot of things that are prettier than I am.”
“Agree to disagree,” you insisted with a soft laugh, “I’m glad you’re here, you know. Even if it sucks and this whole world sucks. I’m glad you’re still here. Selfish or not.”
You stood up and brushed yourself off before walking over to him and plopping onto the ground next to him so you were facing him. You reached for his hand and took it in yours, giving it a squeeze so tender that it almost made him cry. He never thought he’d get to feel such a touch ever again.
“So,” you whispered softly, “what’s next?”
“You’re not ready to run for the hills and hide?” he joked, half serious.
“Nope,” you promised, “besides, what the fuck am I going to do here by myself? I know nothing about anything anymore.”
“Want to help me and the kind find Hank Maclean?” he asked as your eyebrows raised up, “it’s a long story.”
“I’m in,” you promised, “but there’s one thing I want to do first.”
“And what’s that, sugar?”
“This,” you leaned in and took his face in your hands, before gently leaning and kissing him. When you pulled away he looked at you in surprise, “that’s all.”
“C’mere,” he put his hands on your hips and hauled you onto his lap, “you should know better than to start something you can’t finish.”
“Oh, I fully intended to finish,” you grinned, “I’ve missed you, Coop.”
“I’ve missed you every day for a long time,” he sighed, “I’m not letting you go again.”
“Good.”
608 notes
·
View notes