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nereidprinc3ss · 4 months

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slumber party

in which there's only one bed. fem bau!reader x spencer reid

fluff! warnings/tags: dark humor, (the word molest is used jokingly once but in my defense your honor its completely on brand for early seasons cm humor, if u cancel me u have to cancel the whole cast those are the rules, its just a joke cause reader always flirts w him aggressively, pls don't come for me i have a wife and children and three boyfriends to take care of,) mutual pining, bullying and death threats as flirting, they love each other so much and bicker like children, glasses spencer, (moans), emily and rossi are mentioned bc canon means fuck all to me, i think thats it but this is my most out of pocket duo so if i'm wrong lmk a/n: just a silly little thing that i cooked up, not a masterpiece but i think its cute!! I hope u enjoy!! lmk what you think!! looooveee youuuu

“Oh, there is no way.”

Your duffel bag hits the dingy carpet as Spencer is still closing the door behind you.

“What? Is it—”

You give him a look over your shoulder, eyebrows raised as if to say, what are you going to do about this?

But he only manages to meet your eyes for a split second before they’re back to the singular queen bed, darting over the white sheets and pillows like he might find another mattress if he looks hard enough.

Sharing a room with Spencer, you can handle. You've done it before. Whenever the team has to pair up at a hotel, you two are an obvious choice. And while you occasionally butt heads, mostly you adore each other and it's great.

But sharing a bed is a whole other situation.

One you were not prepared for. And evidently, neither is he.

Watching his big anxious eyes flit around the room nervously, you feel sort of bad for your reaction. You know you can be a bit… abrasive, sometimes.

“It’s fine, I’ll just—I’ll see if I can share a bed with Emily or JJ in their room—”

Just then there’s a knock at the door. Spencer looks relieved to have something else to focus on, turning back around and quickly undoing the latch again before opening the door to reveal your favorite raven-haired SSA. Emily leans past the doorjamb, eyes immediately honing in on the awkward sleeping arrangement.

“Oh my god! You guys too?”

“What?” You and Spencer ask at the same time. Emily raises her eyebrows at this and glances between you, but otherwise doesn’t comment.

“Me and JJ only have the one bed. I thought it might just have been us.”

You frown. There goes your plan of sharing a room with them.

“What about Morgan and Garcia?”

Spencer snorts.

“Something tells me Penelope wouldn’t be too torn up about it if that's the case.”

“Hotch and Rossi?”

The room goes quiet and a little chilly as the thought disturbs everyone equally. Emily frowns deeply.

“I don’t even… I can’t picture that.”

“Can we please not try to picture it?”

“Great. Okay, well. I just wanted to make sure everyone is suffering equally. Good luck, champs.”

“Thanks,” Spencer mutters dryly. Emily smiles, eyes darting between the two of you for just a moment too long, before pushing off the door frame and disappearing from sight. Once the door is closed again, a heavy silence ensues. “I’ll… I can take the floor—”

“It’s fine, Spencer. I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor. We’re both grown-ups. Besides, we like each other, right? It’ll be like a slumber party.”

“I’ve never had one,” he admits. His glasses slip further down his nose as he frowns. Your fingers itch to push them back up.

“Then I’m happy to be your first,” you tease, facing him fully with your hand on your hip and barely resisting the urge to add, I’ll be gentle. “Do you want the shower first or can I?”

Spencer has a habit of looking you up and down like he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. Some might find it odd, but his utter lack of social graces is, lucky for him, incredibly endearing to you.

“You can have it first,” he says, meeting your eyes again. “Just don’t do that thing where you get the entire bathroom soaking wet.”

“Aw. But I love doing that. It’s my favorite part,” you tease, scooping up your bag once more.

Twenty minutes later you’re emerging from the bathroom with damp hair, clad in loose shorts and a college hoodie.

“Nice outfit,” Spencer says from the spinny-chair at the desk, examining your outfit choice with a scrutiny you wish you’d been prepared for. Really, you wish you’d known ahead of time you’d have a roommate and brought some alternate sleeping clothes. “I had no idea you felt so passionately about… Scooby Doo?”

“Shut up right now,” you grit, tossing your bag into the corner of the room and tugging your hoodie down over your cartoon-patterned shorts as far as you can.

“What?” He’s laughing as he brushes past you on his way into the bathroom, bearing his own bag. “It’s a good look for you.”

Your face is burning as you choose the side of the bed furthest from the door. Springs creak underneath your weight as you sink down, sitting with your legs hanging off the side for a moment before swinging them up onto the mattress, leaning against the headboard and side-eyeing the empty space next to you. There’s really not very much of it. The bed feels even smaller than it looks.

From the bathroom you hear the sound of the shower squeaking and starting up again—a cacophony of droplets against tile on the other side of the wall. You try not to be nervous as you imagine Spencer filling the space beside you in just a few minutes, hair wet and in pajamas. And yet you spend each second wondering if he’s almost done, wondering if the shower will finally sputter to a halt, and once it does, wondering how long it’ll be before he’s out again. It’s ridiculous how impatient you're getting—and by the time you finally watch the door knob twist you feel crazy.

“I think that was your longest shower yet, Dr. Reid.”

The teasing affords you a moment to ogle him head to toe, taking in his choice of pajamas—tonight, familiar plaid pants and an MIT crewneck—as well as his hair which has already begun to dry. Briefly you wonder if he does that thing guys do, where they lean down and haphazardly dry their hair with a towel because they have no concern for its texture whatsoever. But you kind of doubt it, because his hair always looks so soft.

“You were sitting here waiting for me?” He chuckles, and honestly you’d been expecting a shyer response. But you adapt quickly.

“Maybe I was. Big spoon or little spoon?”

“Ha-ha.” He opens a drawer in the dresser and begins unpacking his clothes into it. It's a funny habit of his. You never unpack your duffel. “You took the better side of the bed.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m the woman. I get to do that.”

“Well you should know that if an intruder breaks in, I’m not fighting him off. You’d probably have a better chance than me.”

“And my chances will be even better if he’s distracted with you first.”

“So I’m just bait?” He scoffs, looking back at you. Strands of wet hair hang so prettily around his face, like the perfect frame around a work of art. You smile sweetly from your spot on the bed before playfully biting at the air in his direction. The message goes unspoken but reads loud and clear. Of course you are. You make such good bait.

That gets a blush out of him and he has nothing else to say as he turns back to his drawer. Happily you lean back against the headboard, stretching your legs out and bouncing slightly in place. Beneath you the mattress springs groan and squeak in protest.

“I hope you're not going to be this irritating all night.”

It's clearly lighthearted, but you promptly stop and frown at his back.

“Call me irritating again and see where you end up sleeping tonight.”

“I just don’t see how you’re even more hyperactive than usual right now. Has anybody ever told you that you’re crepuscular?” Spencer asks, finally sliding the drawer shut and going to shut the overhead light off. Your eyes narrow.

“Obviously nobody has told me that.”

“It means y—”

“I’m most energetic within the few hours around dusk and dawn. Contrary to your belief, Dr. Reid, other people are also capable of looking up words in a dictionary and remembering what they mean. Are you going to stand in the corner all night or are you gonna come to bed?”

“I am,” he scoffs, clearly embarrassed and shy and embarrassed of being shy. “I’m just… you look like you kick in your sleep. And hog the blankets.”

You shrug, folding your knees to your chest and hugging them quaintly.

“I’ve never had any complaints. In fact, you should be so lucky to share a bed with me. All five star reviews, baby.”

You toss a suggestive wink in at the end, which seems garish enough to break the tension so that Spencer can stop lingering in the corner like a sleep-paralysis demon and move to carefully take his place next to you. He almost mirrors your position, but his legs are too long to quite manage your level of compactness and so they simply fold underneath him. A few silent moments go by, in which you have the dumbest smile on your face and you keep glancing over to the side, waiting for him to be looking back at you.

“This is already the least relaxed I have ever been in a bed.”

“Good thing we’re not going to sleep yet.”

Finally he looks at you, a casual mix of hesitance, concern, and moderate curiosity coloring his features.

“We’re not?”

“Oh, my god, Spencer,” you snort. “I’m not gonna molest you. We have to do slumber party stuff, remember?”

He flushes again, glancing at the digital clock in his bedside table.

“But it’s late. We should go to sleep.”

“At slumber parties you have to stay up until you literally can’t keep your eyes open anymore. Those are the rules. I don’t make them.”

Still, your insistence that you follow the international code of sleepover law goes unabided by Spencer. He simply leans over to flick off his lamp, bathing the room in darkness.

“I appreciate the effort,” he says, and your eyes haven’t adjusted but you can hear the rustle of sheets and blankets as he gets under them, “but unfortunately we have to be awake and alert in five hours.”

“You’re no fun,” you huff, but climb under your own side of the cover and scoot down until you’re flat on your back, covered in blanket and hands folded on your sternum.

Spencer doesn’t respond.

It’s silent for maybe five minutes, during which your brain doesn’t slow down at all. Maybe you are crepuscular. Or slightly nocturnal. You have nothing but energy.

In an attempt to get comfortable, you try adjusting your position.

The mattress squeaks.

You do it again.

Another squeak.

A second goes by, and now you’re intentionally jostling about, squeaking the mattress as much as you can.

“Would you stop that?” Spencer says, voice already gravelly with sleep. You manage, but you’re already devolving into a fit of giggles. “I’m going to smother you with this pillow,” he threatens, but you hear the disgruntled smile curling his words.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just not in the mood to rest.”

Another moment passes. He sighs deeply. You smile into the dark.

“What are you in the mood for?” He asks flatly, and you’ve won.

“Tell me a secret,” you immediately demand in a hushed tone, flipping on your side to face his back. “Something you’ve never told anyone else.”

“I don’t—”

“Shh! You have to whisper it. Those are the slumber party rules.”

“I don’t have any secrets,” he whispers, clearly flustered, and to your delight, rolling to face the ceiling. “None that you’d want to hear.”

“Oh, now that’s just not true. You’re an enigma, Spencer Reid. You fascinate me.”

You’re only sort of kidding.

“I… fascinate you?”

“Completely. You know, ever since you moved your desk across from mine I get distracted just staring at you and wondering what you’re thinking about. But you’re very… hard to read, sometimes. I think it’s because you’re a Scorpio.”

“The position of the stars at the time I was born has no bearing on my personality.”

“Fine,” you concede, still in a glorified stage whisper. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t display the archetypal Scorpio traits. You’re all brooding, mysterious. Kinda, I don't know... intense and sexy and unknowable…”

“Sexy?” He laughs, breaking the whisper rule. You grin and let it slide. You’d hoped he would catch that one.

“Hey,” you snap, losing the smile immediately and lightly shoving against what you hope is his shoulder. “You’re supposed to be telling me a secret, damnit. I won’t let your wiles and charm distract me from getting what I want.”

“When have you ever let anything stop you from getting what you want?”

Truly, your cheeks are going to start aching with this constant back and forth between poker-faced and huge Cheshire smile.

“Stop flirting and answer my question, Reid.”

With the amount of times you’ve made him sigh tonight he must be dizzy. You chew your lip apprehensively in the silence, picking a loose thread on your pillow. It’s so pitch black in the room, you can’t see him where he lies only a few meager inches from you. But you can feel his presence. You can feel the unexpected bass to his voice when he’s tired and speaking this lowly, which you’ve never heard before.

“All the secrets I’ve never told anyone are just… depressing.”

Your heart sinks a little at the way he swallows between words, like that in and of itself was hard to admit. Unthinkingly your hand slides into the small gap of white cotton between the two of you.

“Not very good slumber party material, I think,” he laughs self-consciously.

“You’d be surprised.”

The sentiment comes quieter and more serious than you’ve been all night. If only you had the words to tell him that he can tell you anything. That you want to hold his secrets for him under lock and key. That you would never, ever do anything less than offer him kindness and support—even if it doesn’t always seem that way when you’re teasing him.

“Do you have any secrets you’ve never told anyone else?” He murmurs eventually, so soft it could kill you.

And you do. There are plenty of dark ones, probably not all dissimilar from those he’d elected not to share only a moment ago.

But you don’t bring those up.

Instead, you decide to admit to something silly. Still, it makes you nervous as you feel it coming loose in your chest. You’ve really never told anyone this, and it’s perhaps more vulnerable than you’d realized before the words were already leaving your mouth.

“I, have…” You pause to laugh at yourself, and continue on. “I have a stuffed dragon that I take with me on every single case.”

“You do?” Spencer laughs, so loud and unexpected it almost hurts your ears, angling his head toward you. Blood rushes to your face.

“Yes. He usually sleeps in bed with me. He’s an excellent listener and has been the origin of several of my most genius breakthroughs. You remember Gibson Cooper?”

“Family annihilator from Houston?”

“Correct. He’s in prison because Oscar helped me make the Cook Creek Campground connection between the O’Hara and Diangelo families.”

“You have a stuffed profiler dragon named Oscar? Is he here?”

“He’s—I mean, I wasn’t expecting to share a room with someone.”

“So he’s in your bag.”

“Yes,” you seethe, “and I will not be introducing you to him. He doesn’t do well with men.”

“You are genuinely psychotic.”

You huff.

“Fine. I’m sorry I told you anything.”

You’re about to roll over onto your other side—but Spencer surprises you by catching the hand that had been outstretched in his direction. He carefully intertwines your fingers and squeezes gently.

“You’re right. That was mean. Thank you for telling me about Oscar.” His tone is surprisingly teasing, and you’re so uncharacteristically flustered by this rare show of physicality and affection that you can’t muster an adequate comeback. Spencer doesn’t seem to mind filling your silence, though, sounding a little more solemn now. “I’m sorry I don’t have any secrets for you.”

The way his voice gets all thin and scratchy sometimes—it’s like the earnest sincerity just pours out of him. He can’t control it. He can’t be anyone other than who he is. Maybe that’s a part of why you love him so much. You wonder if he knows how much you love him. It’s not exactly a secret—anyone on the team would be able to tell as much. You’ve been relentlessly teased for the way you are with him. For your batting lashes and your lingering touches and your unabashed flirting. But beneath it all is true affection, and nobody doubts that.

“It’s okay,” you decide with a squeeze of your own, after a moment of deliberation. “You’ll think of something. ’Cause, y’know—you’re stuck with me for at least a few more days.”

“Oh, god,” he laughs, and releases your hand, rolling over to face away from you. But you don’t mind. You’ll get lots more time to invade his personal space over the coming week or so. “Goodnight.”

“Sweet dreams,” you sing-song, turning away to face the wall with what is perhaps your biggest, stupidest smile yet.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds imagine

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sunderwight · 3 months

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Shen Yuan who glitches in his transmigration, but the original Shen Qingqiu still dies of a qi deviation.

So the System still needs someone with narrative relevance to throw Luo Binghe into the Abyss. In a fit of desperation, it contrives circumstances after Shen Qingqiu's death to move Luo Binghe to An Ding Peak (not that difficult), and then the System makes Shang Qinghua be Luo Binghe's new scum master who casts him down.

Airplane's thrilled, really. Cultivators aren't supposed to get ulcers but damned if he doesn't come close to one anyway. Between Shen Qingqiu and then just a while later Liu Qingge both dying from qi deviations, and Shang Qinghua looking like a stiff breeze could take him out any day now, poor Mu Qingfang is also just about at his wits' end.

But it's not all bad news! On An Ding Peak, Luo Binghe actually finds himself surrounded by the kinds of people who are accustomed to being bullied by the rest of the sect. So they're pretty sympathetic to him, and it's easier for someone with basic laboring skills to advance on that peak too. His chores don't decrease too much, but he actually gets rewarded for doing them well, and no one tries to kick him out of the dorms or anything. Shang Qinghua doesn't either go out of his way to bully or praise Luo Binghe, correctly reasoning that his best shot at not getting a gruesome death is to just be a more forgettable bad guy than an abusive dirtbag or a heart-wrenching betrayal. He doesn't sabotage Luo Binghe's cultivation (no point, and it would just farm resentment later) but he also doesn't go out of his way to help him improve (not gonna arm his inevitable maybe-probably-murderer with better weapons!), so Luo Binghe's situation sees an overall improvement but not the zero-to-hero treatment he'd have got with Shen Yuan either.

When Shang Qinghua shoves Luo Binghe into the Abyss (he just full on picks him up and tosses him like a sack of beans, better to rip it off quick like a bandage), LBH is upset, but he's not especially surprised or dismayed about Shang Qinghua's part in it. Later on he'll be kind of confused, because he just assumed that of course the righteous sect cultivator would abhor the demon, but it turns out Shang Qinghua has been working for a demon since before Luo Binghe even came to the sect? But then it still kind of makes sense because a Heavenly Demon would definitely pose a risk to Mobei Jun and to Mobei Jun's rule. Shang Qinghua, he supposes, is just really loyal to his specific demon.

Luo Binghe's subsequent revenge quest is also somewhat mitigated by the Abyss actually not being that bad.

The Abyss is not actually that bad thanks to the glitched out Shen Yuan having been camping there for several years now.

So when Shen Yuan's transmigration failed it failed because he "woke up" during the process, realized where the System intended to put him, was like no way in goddamn hell am I being that guy about it, and actually kind of won the ensuing tug-of-war. The System couldn't put him in Shen Qingqiu but Shen Yuan didn't want to go back to his dead body either, so he ended up stuck in the nearest available space for lost interdimensional beings. Which was the Endless Abyss.

Luckily Shen Yuan's quasi-transmigrated imparted an equivalent cultivation level as Shen Jiu's to him, and the glitch made him able to sense and manipulate certain extra-dimensional energies, so he manifested as this weird godlike being able to manipulate and control aspects of the Abyss. So he set about transforming Airplane's Torment Nexus into a viable ecosystem (the current version would not be anything approaching sustainable were it not for divine/narrative intervention, and is constantly on the verge of destabilizing into unlivable ruin that would only be fit for some particularly hardy microorganisms).

It's still like, a monster land full of demonic creatures and terrifying phenomenon, but with Shen Yuan's assistance it becomes something more like a demonic wildlife reserve than a dimensional horror plane. Though it is still a dimensional horror plane, and Shen Yuan is its chief dimensional horror. He treats it sort of like those dungeon building or wildlife park sims, figuring out how to keep everything in balance while still preserving all the interesting parts. A lot of the extreme survival issues of the Abyss are more of a result of it being environmentally unstable than a result of its actual denizens, and once he smooths out a lot of the messy dimensional edges and creates stable vents for the fluctuating energy run-off, the demonic inhabits start behaving less like horror movie monsters and more like animals. They're still wild and dangerous and prone to killing one another, but also more cautious, and able to access enough stable resources that they can even start to be picky about what they pursue.

Turns out that a lot of creatures in the Abyss actually don't like fighting and dying and being brutally injured on a regular basis, even if they can heal from it!

Shen Yuan has even discovered that some like chin scritches (he's not terribly worried about habituating them to people, given how rarely any people actually access the Abyss, but also because he's not really all that people-ish himself these days).

This means that one of Luo Binghe's first encounters with the horrible creatures of the Abyss, is in fact a pack of wolf-like monsters thoroughly avoiding an actual fight with him. In fact most of the denizens of the Abyss just avoid him. They can smell the Heavenly Demon energy rolling off of him, and given the current abundance of alternatives to dealing with that, virtually none of the monsters actually choose to challenge him. There are still a few that will go after anything that's bleeding, but that problem stops once Luo Binghe's physiology heals his wounds, which takes like... a couple hours, max.

Despite the stories he's heard, Luo Binghe is relieved to find that the Abyss is not quite so terrible as all that. Normal survival skills suffice for seeing him through much of it. He's able to hunt for food, scavenge for tools, and even finds potable water fairly easily. After a few weeks, he also comes across a ruin which seems to be inhabited.

The being inhabiting it is plainly a god, although he demurs and refutes such assertions whenever Binghe is too frank. He's a strange being, at turns looking like some queer approximation of a human, at other times blinking and winking in and out of existence, in patterns of strange lights and oddly geometrical fire. But he's surprisingly not hostile, letting Binghe rest in his residence, and even directing him towards points of interest. Accompanying him, too, though he seems to think that Binghe doesn't notice the odd almost spiderweb-like patterns that appear on things which he's influencing. The god calls himself The Peerless One, or at least that's what Luo Binghe infers from some writings on the ruin. The Peerless One offers instruction, seemingly without thinking about it, and gets flustered at being addressed by title, so Binghe also begins to refer to him as Shizun after a while.

#svsss #bingqiu #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain #long post #does binghe ever leave the abyss?#probably #does he acquire xin mo to do it?#maybe #does he conquer the world again?#perhaps #does he come running back with tales to tell and presents to offer and theoretical ways for shen yuan to leave the abyss with him?#for sure #though he might also just decide that the abyss is a nice enough place to live when the god of it loves you #'okay shizun I went and conquered the world like you said now can I come home and be shizun's wife?'

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mochatsin · 4 months

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When MC Gets Pushed Off the Stairs

You can be the kindest person or the biggest brat this exchange program has ever seen, but it won’t erase the fact that you have enemies. Some demons just can’t stand the idea of a human earning the favor of the seven avatars… and there are others that plan on doing something about it.

TW: implied bullying, falling down the stairs, sprained ankle + MC in a cast, violence, demon brothers being a bit more sinister.

I was in the mood for a bunch of dark and spiteful demons. I might make a separate part of them taking care of MC during the times they have a cast.

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“Who do they think they are? They probably feel invincible when they have those brothers stuck to their hip.”

You tried ignoring the rumors and whispers, you knew it wasn’t true so there wasn't any reason for you to bring this up with anyone. Though there were a bunch of demons, specifically these two girls, that are quite irritating. They definitely knew you could hear them, but that doesn’t mean they’ll lower their voices whenever they start talking about you. Seeing your discomfort is what even encourages them to keep talking, and you’re walking down the stairs to your next class so you can avoid them because there’s no way you’re gonna give them that satisfaction of seeing how bothered you are.

“Invincible? As if! They’re just a human.” The other mocks, looking at you with disgust.

“Let’s find out.” Is the last thing you hear before you feel someone’s heel push your back, making you lose your balance and fall over. It was a blur after that, until he came by…

------------

Lucifer

Students are crowding the stairwell, and Lucifer can feel the annoyance already blooming. A crowd like this usually means trouble, and he wonders if Mammon is trying to place bets in secret again. It won’t be the first time he catches his brother discreetly collecting gambling money after convincing other students to bet on something stupid, so Lucifer isn’t going to be surprised if his initial thought was right as he pushes through to see the commotion.

That’s when Lucifer desperately wished he was right as soon as he saw you on the ground. Two demons on top of the stairs laughed and mocked you, but the moment Lucifer stepped in the scene they immediately shut their mouths out of fear and so did the crowd of students around you. He can piece the scene together and understand what happened, but he needs to hear from you first.

He kneels down to your level to check up on you. You’re not unconscious and that’s great, though you seemed pretty shaken up. Falling down the stairs and having several students stare at you wasn’t pleasant after all. “Come, let’s discuss what happened in the student council room.” Lucifer offers, since the last thing you need is to be the center of attention and he knows it won’t be a good idea to let you stay here longer.

He helps you stand, but you stumble and cling onto him for support. Your foot… it hurts so much that putting pressure on it sent jolts of burning pain that almost made you scream. You’re trying to be strong despite the pain, you can’t show weakness in front of Lucifer who’s relying on you to represent humans. What kind of image are you showing them? That you’re fragile and weak? It’s all getting overwhelming and Lucifer can see you’re already at your limit.

He turns to the two demons on the top of the stairs and glares at them. The temperature drastically dropped, breathing felt so heavy all of a sudden, and there’s this feeling of dread that paralyzed not only the two but also everyone around them. Trying to run away wasn’t an option, the two girls knew it would just make things worse for them.

“I expect to see the both of you in the council room at the end of the day. Or else.” There’s no negotiations, and opening their mouths to protest is already a defiance to Lucifer’s orders. He’s already quite strict on his brothers, what more to a pair of demons that doesn’t seem to understand that there are consequences to their actions? “Everyone, get back to your classes.”

Once everyone has finally left you both alone, Lucifer carries you in his arms. There’s no way he’s letting you limp to the infirmary in this state. He checks your ankle and sighs when he realizes it’s sprained. You thought at first that he’s stressed because you getting hurt meant more work for him, but the worried look on his face shows that it’s not about that.

You’ve been so strong for doing so much here like helping Lucifer manage all of his brothers while still doing your duties as a student, trying to keep up a good impression enough for Diavolo’s exchange program. Now seeing you hurt with a swollen ankle is making Lucifer rethink his views. It’s not pity that’s written on his face, it's… something else entirely.

“I don’t think you’re weak at all… but maybe it’s time that we take care of you, little lamb.” Lucifer says. It’s an understatement to say that you’re dependable because you’re much more than that to him. He wonders how he even managed to get by with his brothers before you came into their lives. You’ve been so reliable, Lucifer almost forgets that you’re also fragile. You’ve done too much, you deserve a break and be pampered. It’s exactly what he does now that you’ve got a cast on your foot.

Lucifer doesn’t like seeing you with those crutches, it doesn’t sit right with him when someone like you is suffering from something as basic as going up the stairs. He starts making a proposal about making RAD more accessible for students by adding elevators or magical levitating platforms. While it’s a good idea on its own, you can tell that they had this plan so that you don’t have to suffer through the stairs anymore. Everyone else immediately agreed to the proposal without second thought.

Lucifer had the two demons apologize to you, and he doesn’t care whether they bruise their skin or get covered in dirt, they will be doing it properly. To beg on their hands and knees, bowing down until their foreheads touch the floor. He won’t let them up until they actually feel genuinely sorry, he doesn’t care how many students will be staring at their pathetic displays. He’s almost tempted to dig his heels into the back of their skulls should they lift their heads for even a single inch from the ground.

He’ll chip away at their pride that led them to hurting you, finding a way to humiliate them in every subtle way until they’re the ones cowering their head. Lucifer would make subtle comments each time their paths would cross, always looking for a single flow that he would call them out for under the pretense of how it’s unbefitting as a student of RAD. It’s so harsh that the brothers almost felt sorry for them. Is it petty? Perhaps it is. But he doesn’t feel guilty at all when they actively chose to hurt you, and maybe he’ll stop once your ankle is all better.

Mammon

You two were together but then he said had somewhere he needed to be. Mammon was supposed to meet up with you before classes, he just needs to talk to some people he owed a few grimm to and possibly ask for another deadline extension. He’s turning to every corner trying to make sure Lucifer won’t spot him counting his debt, though he did notice the crowd that was forming a few meters away.

He didn’t give it much thought at first, but that’s until he heard the whispers of students walking towards the scene. ‘It’s that human exchange that fell’ ‘fell? They were pushed, weren't they?’ And that’s when Mammon starts to sprint, honestly hoping that it was Solomon and not you that they were talking about.

“Outta the way dammit!” Is all you hear, with a few grunts from students getting forcibly shoved to the side before Mammon finally finds you on the floor clutching your ankle. He squats next to you to check the damage, and you can tell from the expression on his face that it doesn’t look good at all.

He looks up at the stairs and sees the two demons snickering at each other before running away from the scene. Mammon recognizes them, he’s heard some of the nasty stuff they’ve said about this exchange program, and especially about you. It just never occurred to him that they’d do something this drastic when given the chance. Mammon was gone for ten minutes and that was enough time to hurt you.

He wanted to run after them, force the two to apologize to you. To make them pay. Though the wince and cries from you are what makes Mammon think with a clear head. You tell him that your ankle is hurting, you can’t move it as much without any pain. So he carries you and makes a run for it to the infirmary. No ambulance compares to how quickly Mammon ran just to get you some help.

Mammon stays by your side, too afraid to leave you for another second after what happened. He stares as they patch up your ankle and you’ll be in crutches until it heals. He’s mad, but definitely not at you. He’s angry that this happened under his watch when he’s supposed to be making sure you’re safe from demons like those. That was a role entrusted to him and he already feels like he failed.

“Ya aint leavin’ my sight, not until that ankle of yours is back in shape aight?” And he meant every word. If he’s not glued to your hip, then you swear you can see a three-eyed crow that’s following you around wherever you go. You just feed it some snacks if you have some when you can, and you wake up with shiny trinkets by your desk the next day.

Mammon is ready to be at your beck and call anytime you need it. You let out a grunt of frustration if you dropped your bag and spilled all your belongings. Your sprained ankle makes it hard for you to bend over to get them, but the moment you turn your head, Mammon is already at your feet grabbing you everything. If it weren’t for the circumstances (like your injury), Belphie would probably exploit this and make his older brother do everything while pretending you asked for it.

The two girls have noticed how much those crows have been following them around. Crows can hold grudges, and they definitely recognize the demons that hurt the human they (and their master) care about.

It started off as something harmless as landing on their desks, squawking at them, or stealing their pens before an important exam. Though when Mammon noticed them occasionally mocking you behind your back for that cast once you came back to RAD, the crows became more aggressive. The birds pulled on their hair, pecked and bit on their skin, clawing at them whenever they could.

Desperate for this madness to stop, the demons are already by Mammon’s feet begging for the crows to leave them alone. Personally, Mammon would’ve done something much worse but there was no way he’s going to abandon you for a second with that cast. “I’m feeling quite generous, so if ya hear me out on my conditions i’ll let you off the hook yeah?”

In exchange for finally getting some peace from those crows, the demons agreed to two conditions. One, never to lay a hand on you ever again unless they want the risk of the birds invading their homes. No more mocking or even looking at you with malice. Two, pay Mammon every month. By the time that you got that cast removed, Mammon has paid off some debt from his classmates and he’s quite proud of it. At least he could take care of you and save some coin at the time. No one said it had to be his money right?

Levi

Levi didn’t spend lunch with any of his brothers or classmates as usual today. He likes spending his free time alone in isolated places like the school garden, empty classrooms, or even the rooftop so he could play his games or watch his anime in peace. Socializing with too many people is overwhelming, this is his own way of recharging to get through the rest of the day.

Though there are rare instances that Levi would ask you to join him in his little hideouts, because you’re one of the people he doesn’t feel too draining to be around. He planned to share some of the snacks he bought for the both of you, but he saw that you were talking with his other brothers at the cafeteria. Feeling dejected, he decided to spend the lunch alone as usual and wait for the class. There’s no way you would want to spend time with someone who’d rather play gacha games on his phone for lunch…

He was hiding by the corners of the stairwell to play his game when he overheard two demons talking so badly about you, followed by hurried footsteps and then a heavy thump at the end of the stairs. Then he heard a familiar voice cry out in pain, and it’s when he realized that you were pushed off the stairs. He saw your body on the floor, trying to recover from the fall and he felt like his world was crashing in on him. He’s frozen in place, unsure of what to do without making things worse.

You turned around and found him hiding behind the stairwell, eyes locked for a moment that felt like an eternity to the demon. That’s when Levi realized he can’t just stand there idly when his player two is injured. Despite the anxiety, he ran to your side anyway to check on you. His face went so pale when he saw you clenching your ankle, the pain evident in your expression. “I-i’ve got you just… dammit what do i d-do…?!” He mumbles the last part, because he knows this isn’t a game where it takes one button to heal you back. No saved file to help him now.

Levi looks up at the stairs and sees the two demons glaring at the both of you. Out of all the brothers, they would never take Levi seriously. To them, he’s just some demon who dedicated his life to a world of fiction and seeing him fumble right now just proves it. They say that Levi just lacks any real skill to even help you before they left.

He hates to admit that those two are right, and that makes him loathe himself even more. Levi almost went down on a spiral, but that’s until he felt a phone get placed on his hand. He turns to meet your gaze, you handed him his D.D.D. and he knew what you were asking him to do. Levi quickly dials for his brothers and help came to you after a minute of doing so. He’s thankful for their quick responses, he wouldn’t be able to handle it if a crowd started forming around you both.

Everyone of them was huddled outside the infirmary while you were getting patched up, and Levi explained what he witnessed. Though he starts going into his self-destructive speech patterns at how he could hardly do anything to help you by himself that he needed to get his brothers to do it for him. He felt so useless to you, but Lucifer interjects. “It’s natural to panic. But if you did not call for us, then they would’ve been in pain for much longer.”

That helped Levi feel a little bit grounded hearing reassurances from his brothers. Lucifer then tasked Levi to be the one in charge of taking care of you during school days. Since Levi also takes his classes online, then he can watch over you while you’re resting in the house. You both can take online classes together while you recover from your injury.

Levi spends most of the time in your room instead because there’s no way he’s making you go up those stairs to his room, and he doesn’t want to risk you getting hurt or slipping if you try to get in his bathtub. As clumsy as he could be, Levi did his best to take care of you. He did want to spend some time alone with you, but he wished it didn’t take a sprained ankle to get what he wanted.

“I-if only this healing item exists, it would’ve been really handy right now…” He says as you both play a two-player game, the demon staring longingly at the recovery potions on the screen and wishing it could take away your pain right now. Levi often wonders… maybe if he didn’t sulk from the jealousy, if he actually asked you that day to go spend lunch with him, then maybe you wouldn’t have gotten hurt like this.

Levi was watching some anime while you slept, and he saw the bullies on the anime picking on the innocent main protagonist. The scene just reminds him of what happened to you, and that brings him this sense of rage and justice. It was unfair what those two girls did to you, and Levi doesn’t think it’s right that he does nothing about this (assuming that his brothers haven't gotten to them first).

The girls found all their accounts hacked. From Devilgram to their bank accounts. Their emails and passwords were changed overnight so they couldn’t figure out how to get it back, and if by some miracle they recovered their accounts, everything was already wiped clean by then. Levi may not be the most confrontational brother, but he’s the best behind the screen. He’s chugging his third energy drink as he thinks of new ways to plant a virus in their D.D.D.’s when he goes to school at the end of the week to hand over both of your homeworks.

When Levi overheard the girls still talking about you during break, they found all their stuff completely drenched and ruined by the time they came back to their seats even though the classroom remained dry. Gadgets were water damaged, and schoolwork that they were supposed to be submitting later is already long gone. Even their lockers were stuffed with sand and sea water, spilling all over their uniforms as soon as they opened it. The teachers scolded them for the mess they ‘created’ no matter the protests that they never did, but who would believe them if they said it was Levi’s doing? The girls never uttered your name again.

Satan

The teacher assigned you both as partners for a class project due next week, and Satan suggested that it’s best to get a head start on it while your schedules are free. You babysit all of his brothers every day, so Satan expects that your days are going to be quite busy if any of them knew you had a bit of free time to spare. At least his plans are something productive, he gets to spend time with you while also finishing some homework together.

It’s ten minutes past the agreed time you both were supposed to meet. Satan is outside the school library, tapping his foot on the floor as he messaged you but receiving no response. He knows he could’ve gone ahead to do some research to pass the time, but the point of this study date was to do the project together. It’s never like you to be late without any notice, so he sets out to look for you.

Satan is walking swiftly, wondering if you were still at the cafeteria. He dials your number to try to call you during his search, and he stops in his tracks when finds your phone on the ground, the screen cracked. It brought alarms in his head and he picked it up to figure out where you must’ve dropped it. It wasn’t hard because he soon spotted the crowd of demons by the stairway nearby. He could immediately guess what happened as he ran to the crowd, and he’s shocked when finally sees that you were the source of commotion.

He doesn’t care how many students he shoved just to get to your side. Seeing you on the ground in pain already warrants an emergency. Satan guessed your phone flew out of your hand when you fell. “What happened to you?! Where does it hurt?!” Satan asks, pulling you close in his arms and checking what’s causing you pain. He sees your ankle swelling slightly, and he’s trying to deduce what he can do to help after reading all of those human health care books just for you.

Though the laughter he’s hearing from the distance is annoying and distracting. Satan glances up and spots the two girls fleeing the scene, looking so proud of themselves. When he realizes what happened to you, his anger is already bubbling through the surface that it’s almost hard to contain. The pained expression on your face doesn’t help, the only reason he hasn’t fully transformed into his demon form is that he doesn’t want to draw more attention or hurt you more than you already are.

The way these students crowded around you like vultures to a feast is making Satan frustrated at each and everyone of them. How could they just stand there and watch while you were in pain? And those two girls, he will make sure to burn their faces into his memory for later. You could practically feel the heat of his wrath radiating from your pact and it’s making your body hurt more. Satan realized that his temper right now could be causing you more pain, so he focuses his thoughts into getting you some help instead of the anger that wants to burn everything and everyone around you.

“Calm down… just calm down…” he mutters over and over while he gently scoops you into his arms, though it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself. Satan is careful when carrying you so he can take you to the infirmary, and all the students parted like the red sea when Satan shot glares at them, quickly scattering like rats while the two of you disappeared into the infirmary.

His eyebrows are furrowed the entire time as he waits for you to get patched up. His brothers have already arrived after they heard what happened, though they could sense that the fourth born is already on edge like a ticking time bomb. He’s quiet not because there’s nothing to say, but because he’s trying to hatch a plan. Something like this shouldnt go unpunished…

Satan is glad for his position in the student council because it meant that he could access some files from RAD. What does he do best? Studying and gathering as much information as he could. He looks for any detention notices until he finds the names and faces of the two girls that hurt you. A smile spreads across his face, though it was nothing pleasant. Like he just found his new prey.

He just needs to wait for that detention day, patience is the key to success. So for now he’ll focus on taking care of you. Satan pays more attention to you, always attentive to your needs. He brings you notes from any classes that you’ve missed during your recovery, and you heard from one of the brothers that they’re all trying to rack up money for a better phone since yours broke. you do admit that you feel bad for all the extra work he puts up for your sake, especially since Satan even had to do most of the project that you both were originally supposed to do together in the first place if it weren’t for the incident.

“You’re speaking nonsense. I don’t mind putting in more effort just for you, all you need to do is to recover. I’ll consider that as my thanks.” Satan would bring you books in bed or make you some coffee topped with some latte art just so you wouldn’t feel so bored. You can’t go to cafes or libraries with him like you both used to, so Satan will do everything with you in the comforts of your room.

Satan counted the days until it was time. He assigns another brother to watch over you. Asmo pretends not to hear the sound of the main door closing in the middle of the night, distracting you with something pretty he recently bought. The next school day rolls around and everyone is lucky you’re still in bed rest when the news broke out. Two students were found unconscious on the stairs in an awful state. Normally, falling down a flight of stairs doesn’t do much damage to a demon as much as it can to humans. And yet the bones in their legs were absolutely shattered…

None of the brothers were honestly too bothered to tell you the events that transpired, mostly because they knew the culprit. Satan would rather that you focus your energy on recovering. The only news that Satan told you was that you both got a perfect mark on the project you both worked on in the comforts of your room, but he doesn’t bring up what happened to those two demons. You only found out when Solomon accidentally told you during his visits.

Asmo

There’s only a few minutes left before the next bell would ring, so Asmo makes sure to retouch his makeup in the school’s bathroom just as he usually does. He dedicates twenty minutes of his daily time making sure that he looks absolutely perfect, so he could bless the eyes of those who pass by to bear witness of his beauty. At least, that’s what he always tells you whenever he leaves.

Just a bit of blush here and there to match his eye shadow, and Asmo has this proud smile on his face when he’s sure that he looks absolutely spotless. He wanted to bring you along to his little pre-class make up routines, and maybe next time he’ll hear that sweet ‘yes’ from you when he asks. Just thinking about you is making him giddy, so Asmo packed up his pouch and tried to look for you.

It didn’t take him long because as soon as he opened the bathroom door, he spotted a few students by the stairs. Asmo finds it unusual because what could be so important that he’s not the center of attention? Regardless, he’s intrigued enough to investigate the source and he’s horrified to see you down the stairs, clutching your ankle.

If it wasn’t you, then it was Asmo’s shriek that probably drew more attention to the scene. He’s quickly running to your side and checks if you hit your pretty little face anywhere. “Darling, that must’ve been a nasty fall! I would hate it if you got any bruises anywhere on that perfect skin of yours.” Asmo whines as he helps you sit up to give you more support, wrapping an arm around your waist.

When he did so, he heard a scoff and finally turned his attention to the top of the stairs where the two girls looked at you with disgust. He recognizes one of them from his fanclubs, a girl that often tried to get his attention. The facial expressions and body language says all he needs to know, he’s seen this look before. Someone like you being held by Asmo is a major offense to her eyes. The two demons storm off before Asmo could say anything.

Asmo pursed his lips together in frustration before he turned to all the students crowding around you. For once, he hated this attention you’re getting and he sees how much you’re getting shaken by this. “Scram.” Asmo said with enchanted glowing eyes, watching as they all obeyed his command. He then turns to you and wraps your arm over his shoulder to hoist you up. “Come on, let’s get that treated or Lucifer will kill me!” Asmo says to try lighten the mood, though it doesn’t hide the bloodlust in his eyes.

He doesn’t like sweating when he just retouched his makeup, but he can’t even bring himself to think about that now whenever he hears the pained whimpers from you everytime you struggle to take a step. The brother’s eventually arrive to find Asmo outside the Infirmary, scrolling through his phone. Looking closely, he’s actually stalking the profile of the demon he saw earlier and there’s a sinister smile on his face whenever he learns something new about his target. The smile was enough to creep Levi out.

Asmo is always checking up on you when you’re at home recovering, trying to cheer you up whenever he has the chance. It’s gotten to the point he lessened his time clubbing or going to malls just so he could stay with you. “When you’re out of that cast, there will be a special bath full of rose petals with your name written all over it.” Asmo does his best to pamper you whenever he can, knowing how hard it must be to have that cast. It’s truly awful when these sorts of things have to happen to you when you both just bought some matching shoes together! He decides not to wear it yet until your foot gets better.

While you were gone, Asmo did what does best. Gossip. He started giving that other demon attention like she always wanted, whispering and suggesting things in her ear. About how that other demon, her friend, was saying disgusting things behind her back and Asmo is only telling her this to ‘look out’ for her sake. He relishes in her angered expression, knowing he now has her wrapped around his finger like a puppet and all he needed to do was sit back to watch the show.

Each day he found himself feeling excited to go to school just to see how those two would hurt each other this time. It started as something petty with his fan constantly bumping into what she used to consider as a friend, feigning ignorance whenever she’s confronted. Of course, she retaliated back until their silent arguments full of passive-aggressiveness turned into something more violent and hostile. It started from mean notes to death threats until they can’t even stand being in the same room without trying to claw out each other’s eyes. All because of Asmo’s pretty words.

There are times teachers are called to intervene because two girls began fighting in the hallways, screaming profanities while pulling at the other’s hair or horns. Whenever the drama dies down, Asmo would go back to add more fuel to the fire just to watch them burn. He tells his dedicated fan more lies just to enable that rage, spreading a rumor or two around the campus to make it sound reliable. He loves having that charm that captivates and charms, especially someone as gullible as this demon who’d listen to anything he says.

News was no longer about your recent incident, it was now about how the two demons fought so badly that they fell over the stair railings from the top floor all the way down. Given the severity of the injuries they’ve given each other from the week alone, they had no choice but to be suspended until the student council decides what to do with them.

Of course, the brothers knew Asmo pulled the strings, seeing that smile on his face whenever the two girls would try to tear each other apart made it so obvious. Not only was it easy and entertaining, but it kept his nails clean too. It’s not like he broke a rule right? They both did this to themselves. “I can’t wait to tell my darling what happened~!” Asmo hums excitedly on his way home to you.

Beel

Lunch time is definitely Beel’s favorite part of the day (and the lunch lady's worst nightmare). He’s golfing down as much food as he could since he’s been so hungry from his last class which was Magical Potions. Whenever his hunger starts to act up, it’s already a struggle not to eat the ingredients to alleviate it, knowing his teacher would scold him just like last time when he chowed down the entire jar of shadow salamander tails.

He’s lucky whenever you both are paired up together, since you bring him some candies to alleviate his hunger enough for him to focus again. You were his lifesaver. Just the thought of you makes Beel wonder where you were. He went ahead today because you said you needed to see Satan to discuss a project, and you were taking quite a while. He’s had food saved up for you and it’s getting harder for Beel not to eat your share, plus it’s always better when you both eat together.

The last straw was when he saw Satan in the cafeteria and when he asked the blonde where you were, the fourth born said he couldn’t find you. Beel grabs a few snacks to keep his stomach going when he searches for you. Normally it’s hard to convince Beel to leave the cafeteria during lunch break, but you’re that important for him to abandon the heaping food on his table. He was trained as an angel to be ready for any sort of disaster, and his gut is telling him that something is definitely wrong. He only confirmed it when he was walking down the stairs and saw everything.

Two girls were laughing and mocking the human he’s grown to love and care for, and when he found you on the bottom of the stairs after a fall, Beel was seeing red. He doesn’t hesitate to slam his fist against the wall and demand silence, because there was no way he was going to let them insult you any further. The two demons saw him and stiffened, quickly running away from the scene to avoid getting caught. The girls knew that Beel would crack their skulls open like he did to that wall if he got his hands on them.

Beel normally would’ve gone after them, but seeing how you’re struggling to get up on your own is what changed his mind and ran to you instead. He doesn’t even get to run all the way, at some point Beel jumps down the last flight of stairs just to reach you quicker. “Tell me if it hurts…” Beel whispers as he tries to help you up. You winced from the pain, and he decided to effortlessly carry you all the way to the infirmary because he would never make you limp this entire trip and deal with the ache. He’s a big demon, and lots of people find him terrifying when aggravated. And yet he’s so gentle when it comes to you.

Being a fangol player, Beel knows what it’s like to hurt yourself. He’s had Lucifer and Mammon help him back to the house after one intense match against the opposing team. The difference is that he could heal a bit more quickly compared to your fragile human body. What normally takes days for his body to regenerate could last months for you. He’s being careful when he carries you to the infirmary, holding you close like you’re the most delicate thing he’s ever held and he might be right at this point when he watches the nurses patch you up.

Beel is pacing so much outside the infirmary that his twin had to calm him down before he would drill a hole in the middle of the halls, his head is thinking about all of the what-ifs. Luckily you weren’t critical, save for the sprained ankle, but there’s this guilt on his face when he looks through the window and sees your cast. Maybe he should’ve been with you when you went looking for Satan so that he would have protected you, but what’s done is done now. So he focuses on taking care of you and reminding you that you could always rely on him for help.

He brings you some of your favorite treats whenever he comes home from RAD so you both could eat together. At some point, he heard from Solomon that milk is the key for humans to have stronger bones. You tried not to laugh when Beel got a galon just for you, innocently thinking that it would’ve helped you out with your injury if you drank all of it.

Beel is too nice for a demon, he might be the kindest of the seven brothers. But there’s been this tension around the orange haired demon whenever he’s sharing a class with the two girls that pushed you down those stairs. There's this hardly contained rage and blood lust, so a lot of students avoided mentioning what happened to you around him unless they want to get caught in the crossfire.

Beel finds it frustrating whenever he feels that he can't do anything about this rage. Watching you limp around in crutches around the house while those girls were striding down the halls without a care, it wasn't fair. It’s taking all his willpower not to just throw them out of the window for what they did to you. He broke several pens whenever he's too angry during class that Satan had to lend him some of his own. He feels this loss of appetite now that you’re not around to share food with him, and whenever he would remember the incident he would bend the metal of his fork, shaping it effortlessly like it’s clay. It’s a matter of concern for the brothers now.

Belphie took his twin out to the gym so Beel could let his frustrations through workouts. He may have destroyed two punching bags, but it was enough to bring down that anger to a safer level now. And during all that, Beel finally confided in his twin. About how he saw those girls mock you, and this innate urge to just see them suffer but it’s impossible to do that without destroying everything in his path. He would get in a lot of trouble, and he knows that would upset you instead.

“It’s just unfair, you know that they didn’t deserve that…” Just because he was nice doesn’t mean he wasn’t vengeful, but he’s at a loss of what he could do that wouldn’t result in another property damage bill sitting on Lucifer’s desk. Belphie can just sense how his Beel is itching for a bit of revenge, and who is he to deny what his twin wants?

For Magical Potions, Beel had to partner up with Satan and Belphie since you’ll be absent for the time being. They had the perfect plan, all Satan needed was a good sleight of hand to drop something in their cauldron when he walks by. Given that these two love pulling pranks on Lucifer specifically, they took a page out of their book of schemes for new targets.

Maybe his brothers forgot to consider that these two demons do not have the same kind of strength or resistance that the eldest had… or they both did this on purpose. Adding hellfire frog legs into the girl’s cauldron during Magical Potions class was actually more explosive than they expected, resulting in awful burns on their skin and hair. Beel’s priority is to take care of you everyday so he didn’t have much time to relish in this side of his that wants to wreak havoc, but he admits that seeing your bullies in pain like this is actually fun. It’s almost as satisfying as those ten stack pancakes he had two days ago… ah great, now he’s getting hungry again.

Beel is coming home to you with a box of your favorite treats. You wanted to try those new batch of sweets from Madame Scream but the brothers kept you in bed rest due to your ankle, so Beel went out of the trouble to get them for you. It took a lot of willpower not to eat a single one on the way back which deserves praise. You’ve been feeding him so many snacks during class to help him focus, this is his way of returning the favor to you.

He doesn’t bring up what happened during potions class with the girls that pushed you, and he honestly didn’t feel the need to do so since they weren’t important as you are to him. He’s too busy trying to feed you some yummy snacks to even think about that. You only hear about what happened through his twin who was grinning from ear to ear when he recalls the boils and burnt hair. “Well, it’s their fault for not checking their cauldron. They’re not smart and careful like you.”

Belphie

Belphie found a perfect spot to sleep around RAD where he’s sure Lucifer won’t spot him yet. It’s hidden in the school gardens, a nice secluded area with a small bench surrounded by bushes that would surely keep him out of sight. He’s been slowly putting pillows and blankets he’s brought so that it becomes a little slumber haven for him, and Belphie feels that he’s ready to show you his secret spot. He’d never tell his brothers because he wants to have at least a few minutes alone with you every weekday.

The problem with that plan is that Belphie can’t even find you. He’s already at the verge of passing out from the exhaustion of trying to keep himself awake in his search for you. Lunch in school is normally his nap time allowance, but he really did want to show you this secret hide out so that you both could enjoy it together.

He runs into his twin who was also looking for you, so it’s better they just stuck together right? Belphie had plans to show Beel anyways once this was done with. They passed by a corner to go upstairs in case you were already in the classroom, and that’s when they both saw you at the bottom of the stairs where those two girls were laughing at you.

Belphie didn’t know what came over him, but his body could hardly move when he saw you like that. It’s bringing him a lot of bad memories of choices he came to regret until this day, remembering the things he did to you when he threw your body down the stairs. He wanted to forget that, but seeing this whole situation is making that memory repeat in his head. Like the guilt is creeping back to him, and he froze in place not knowing what to do other than to relive the moment.

Beel grabbed Belphie by the wrist to snap him out of the trance, reminding the youngest that you need some help. The twins came by your side, hoisting your arms over their shoulders to help you in the infirmary. The two girls were already long gone while Belphie was in a frozen state, and Beel would’ve gone after them if not for his twin and you because his family always comes first.

The one thing that’s comforting Belphie right now is the fact that you’re still alive and breathing, though it can only do so much. He doesn’t like seeing you in pain like this, so he offers a spell so you could sleep through it while the nurse from the infirmary patches you up. He’s quiet the entire time when he watches you rest, Beel tries to talk to his twin about it but he refuses to let his problems known. It’s not like it was hard to guess, Beel can tell what’s bothering his twin but doesn’t mention it.

Belphie has been taking naps by your side whenever possible, sleeping in your room and making sure to give you sweet dreams each time you start falling asleep. Though he himself couldn’t sleep. Each time he tries to get some shut eye with you, he ends up reliving that day when they found you at the bottom of the stairs. The way those girls mocked you was unforgivable, and he hates how it’s hitting too close to home. Whenever he wakes up, he checks on your pulse while you’re asleep and sighs in relief every time he feels your heart beat. Like it’s the only thing that can calm him down.

By the time he woke up from his third nightmare, Belphie had enough. If he wants to feel at peace again, then he needs to get rid of the source of the problem. It wasn’t fair that you’re suffering like this, he hates seeing the empty seat next to him in class knowing that you’re supposed to be there instead of staying at home with that cast. Lucifer told him that they’ll be dealing with the matters soon, but Belphie had no intention of listening to them in the first place.

Belphie has been gradually giving the two girls nightmares, and each night they progressively get worse. From using their phobias against them to waking up from a gorefest nightmare in the middle of the night. It costs them sleep, and Belphie thinks it’s the perfect piece of karma whenever he sees the bags under their eyes getting darker each day. Hair and clothes started to look more haphazard when there’s barely any energy to keep themselves up.

Whenever Belphie shares a class with them, he pulls a little bit of magic to make them fall asleep during class until they get into a lot of trouble. He loves doing this when there are important tests and activities so they’d miss it and fail. No amount of coffee helps keep them awake during the day while the nightmares plague their sleep. The constant fatigue and the lack of sleep is starting to get to them, and Belphie has been observing everything. Movements were more sluggish and alertness has gone below the baseline. Just exactly what Belphie was waiting for.

It’s a simple plan that leads to the least amount of struggling and effort needed, because all it took was one shove for them to tumble out of the railings and down several flights of stairs. When they’ve finally stopped rolling against the stairs, they hear Belphie’s heavy footsteps as he walks down to their level until he’s stepping on one of them with the heel of his foot. He’d compare them to bugs, but that would be insulting to all insects.

“You know, I had a lot of plans with them that day… I don’t like it when people, even my brothers, decide to ruin them.” His love for you and spoiled attitude is what’s fueling his anger right now, so he had no qualms with pushing them down the next flight of stairs with his foot. And whenever they think it’s over, he goes down and does this again. Like kicking a pebble he’s found on the ground… all the way down to the first floor.

There’s this satisfied look on his face as soon as he sees the two girls on the floor already at the brink of unconsciousness. He feels so much lighter now, and all he can think of is how he wants to go home to take a nap with you. He doesn’t even walk over to the side, he just steps over the two girls on his way out.

Belphie comes home with the usual drowsy expression, but you can tell he’s in a much better mood now. He lays down next to you in bed, already hugging you close to his chest while making sure he’s not hurting your ankle. “I think I can get more sleep now…” he says with a confident smile on his lips, lulling you to slumber with him. After that incident, it’s the first in a while that Belphie finally has his usual 10 hour nap.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios

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enreveriee · 20 days

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♫︎ SWEATER WEATHER | N.RK

╰ one love, two mouths, one love, one house

SWEATER WEATHER: in which nishimura riki aka niki finds himself consoling his roommate aka you after all the bullying— and even catching your boyfriend cheating on you. . GENRE: angst, comfort and a little fluff (?). . WARNINGS: mentions of cheating, bullying, kisses, contains cuss words, lmk if I missed anything. . WORD COUNT: 10k

YOU swore to yourself you’d never cry in front of anyone, to never show that kind of vulnerability. But here you were, curled up in a fetal position on your small, single bed, muffling your sobs into your pillow.

The dim light from the street lamp outside barely lit the room, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch and claw at the walls, matching the heaviness in your chest. You felt suffocated, every breath shaky as if the weight of everything pressed down on you, making it impossible to hold back the tears.

Niki, your roommate, sat across the room at his desk, fidgeting with the edge of his notebook, glancing at you every so often with a mix of concern and awkwardness. He had never been good at dealing with emotions—especially yours—but this was different. You were his roommate but also he had grown to see you as a friend, and seeing you like this felt like a punch to his gut.

“Did it… happen again?” Niki asked, his voice barely above a whisper, almost as if he was afraid to shatter the fragile silence. He knew about the bullying, not because you ever told him, but because the signs were always there, glaringly obvious.

He had seen the sticky notes that clung to your backpack like parasites, covered in hateful messages: “Just die,” “Kill yourself,” “Bitch,” “Fuck you.” They ranged from vicious insults to degrading taunts that made his blood boil every time he thought about them.

Then there were the days you’d walk into the dorm drenched in milk, your hair sticky and your eyes hollow, the faintest tremble in your hands as you tried to pretend it was no big deal. No one in their right mind would choose to bathe in milk, and Niki knew you were being targeted.

It didn’t stop at notes and milk either; he remembered the time your hair had been crudely chopped off. It had grown back now, but the humiliation and anger in your eyes had lingered much longer.

You sniffed, trying to stifle the sobs, but it was useless. Your shoulders shook with every cry, your hands clutching the pillow tighter as if trying to ground yourself.

Niki’s chair scraped against the floor as he finally stood up, his movements hesitant. He walked over to your bed, hovering at the edge, unsure of what to do with his hands or even how close he should get.

“Why don’t you tell someone?” Niki asked, his voice laced with frustration—not at you, but at the situation. He knelt beside your bed, his knees pressing into the cold floor, and he reached out but hesitated before pulling back his hand, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck instead. “I mean… the teachers, they have to do something, right?”

You didn’t lift your head, your voice muffled but raw. “They see it, Niki. They see it every day, and they just… don’t care. It’s easier for them to look away.”

Niki clenched his jaw, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of your bed. He wanted to punch something, anything, because he hated seeing you like this—so broken, so defeated.

He shifted, finally sitting on the edge of your bed. His hand hovered above your back, the hesitation clear, but then he gently placed it there, rubbing small, comforting circles. It was clumsy and uncertain, but it was the only thing he could think of to try and ease your pain.

You tensed at first but didn’t pull away, the warmth of his touch cutting through the cold that seemed to settle in your bones. He didn’t say anything else for a while, just sat there with you in the dim light, the rhythmic sound of his thumb tracing circles on your back the only comfort in the stillness.

“I’m here, you know?” he finally said, his voice softer now. “Even if I don’t know what to say or do, I’m here. And those assholes… they don’t get to win, okay?”

His words were simple, but they cut through the numbness, reaching a part of you that you’d kept locked away. You turned your head slightly, peeking at him through tear-streaked lashes. There was a softness in his eyes, a sincerity that made your chest tighten in a different way—something more than just pain.

“Thanks, Niki,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from crying. You sniffed and wiped at your face with the back of your hand, feeling a tiny, fragile spark of comfort in his presence.

Niki nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line as if holding back his own surge of emotions. He squeezed your shoulder once before letting go, staying close enough that you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

In that quiet, shared space, the harshness of the world outside seemed a little less overwhelming, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you weren’t entirely alone.

"I'll go take a walk," you muttered under your breath, your voice barely audible as you stood by the door. The rain outside was relentless, pouring down in heavy sheets, but you didn't care. You needed to get out, to clear your mind from the suffocating weight of everything that had happened. Niki glanced up from his books briefly, his eyes filled with unspoken worry, but he didn't stop you. He knew better than to try.

With the umbrella clutched tightly in your hand, you stepped out into the cold rain, the rhythmic patter of drops on the fabric above you a faint comfort against the storm brewing inside your head. You walked with determined strides, the chill of the rain seeping through your clothes but failing to cool the burning in your chest.

You didn't know where you were headed, but your feet moved on autopilot, leading you towards the familiar path to Dowon's house. His place wasn't far; it was where you always went when you needed comfort, where his arms were supposed to be your safe haven.

You didn't think to announce your arrival -why would you? He lived alone, and you'd been over countless times without a word. As you neared his house, your heart ached with the anticipation of being held, of letting go of the tears that you'd kept bottled up all day.

But as you approached his door, something made you pause. A pair of unfamiliar heels were tossed carelessly by the entrance, a stark contrast against the neatly arranged sneakers that belonged to Dowon.

Curiosity and a growing sense of dread pulled you forward. You peeked inside the partially open bedroom door, and your heart dropped into your stomach. There, on his bed, Dowon was entangled in a mess of limbs with none other than Rina-your bully, the person who had made your life a living hell. They were wrapped around each other, oblivious to everything else, and the sound of their heavy breaths filled the small room.

"Don't worry, baby," Dowon's voice came out in ragged gasps between thrusts. "I'll make sure she doesn't come between us."

You stood frozen in the doorway, your mind struggling to process the scene in front of you. The betrayal cut deeper than anything you'd ever felt. Your boyfriend, the one person who was supposed to be on your side, was now tangled in sheets with the person who had caused you so much pain. It wasn't just cheating; it was a cruel, twisted joke at your expense.

You pushed the door open, the loud creak finally drawing their attention. Dowon looked up, but there wasn't a hint of guilt or panic in his eyes-just a bored, dismissive scoff. Rina, on the other hand, shot you a smug smirk, not even bothering to cover herself as she continued moving against him, as if your presence was nothing more than a mild inconvenience.

"Good timing," Rina muttered, her voice laced with mockery. She didn't stop, her movements only growing bolder, as if to taunt you further.

Your throat tightened, and you felt the words you wanted to scream get caught somewhere deep, locked away by the sheer disbelief and hurt. "Dowon, you?" was all you managed to choke out, but before you could say anything else, he grabbed the nearest object-a lamp-and hurled it towards you, his expression twisted with anger and annoyance.

"Get the hell out," he snarled, his voice sharp and cold, cutting through the last of your hope.

You stumbled back, the lamp shattering against the doorframe as you fled, your feet carrying you blindly through the rain. Tears mixed with the droplets on your face, but you didn't care who saw or what they thought.

The ache in your chest spread like a wildfire, every step echoing with the betrayal you had just witnessed. You wiped at your face with the back of your hand, trying to clear the tears that wouldn't stop falling. You felt stupid, lost, and utterly alone as you wandered the empty streets, your sobs lost to the relentless downpour.

"You should eat something," Niki muttered softly as he slid a steaming bowl of ramen across the small table towards you. He had taken the time to prepare it, carefully adding extra toppings in hopes of coaxing you to eat. The steam rose in gentle curls, carrying the comforting scent of warm broth and spices.

Niki, usually reserved and quiet, had been watching you with increasing concern. The dark circles under your eyes, the way you lay curled up in your bed for hours—he could see the weight you were carrying, even if you tried to hide it behind a stoic front.

"I'm not hungry," you mumbled, your voice breaking as you pulled the blanket tighter around yourself. You were sitting up, knees drawn to your chest, clutching the fabric like it was the only thing holding you together. Each sob that escaped your lips felt like it took a piece of you with it. Niki shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to do with his hands that now fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.

"You sound like a zombie," he joked awkwardly, trying to lighten the mood. It was an attempt to bring a smile to your tear-streaked face, but it only made your sobs deepen. The corners of your mouth trembled as if debating whether to laugh or cry harder.

Niki mentally kicked himself, regretting the attempt as soon as he saw fresh tears spill down your cheeks. He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He wasn’t good at this—comforting people wasn’t his forte, and seeing you this broken made him feel utterly helpless.

"I'll just..." He trailed off, glancing towards his desk where his open textbooks awaited him, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave your side. The weight of your sadness hung heavy in the room, more oppressive than the rain still drumming against the window outside. He rubbed the back of his neck, searching for the right words, but they eluded him.

Instead, he sat down on the edge of the bed, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him, but still keeping a respectful distance. "Just eat once you’re done sobbing," he muttered. His words came out gruffly, harsher than he intended, but the concern was unmistakable. He just wanted you to take care of yourself, even if he didn’t know how to phrase it gently.

You glanced at the bowl of ramen but didn’t make a move towards it. Your eyes drifted back to the stack of crumpled letters and torn notes scattered on your bed—hate-filled messages from Rina, Dowon, and their group.

Each one was a reminder of the bullying you faced daily, and now, to top it all off, the painful revelation that Dowon had been cheating on you with Rina. It felt like a betrayal from every corner of your world. You hadn’t eaten in over a day, but the thought of food made your stomach churn.

Niki watched you, his expression softening. He didn’t know the right words to fix this, but he felt a sharp sting in his chest seeing you like this. He wanted to reach out, to touch your shoulder or hold your hand, but he didn’t know if you’d welcome it or if it would make things worse. He rubbed his palms against his jeans, trying to muster the courage to say something that might help.

"I got cheated on too," he blurted out suddenly, his voice quiet but steady. You glanced up, surprised. It wasn’t like Niki to talk about himself, especially not about things that hurt. He kept his gaze fixed on a spot on the floor, avoiding your eyes. "People like that... they’re just the worst. Don’t dwell on it."

You let out a choked laugh, though it was far from humorous. Tears welled up anew, spilling over as you shook your head. "That was two years ago, Niki," you said between sobs, the bitterness lacing your words. "It's not the same."

He met your gaze then, his dark eyes filled with an understanding that went beyond words. "Still," he insisted softly. "It hurts, I get it. But you can't let them keep taking pieces of you like this."

You bit your lip, trying to hold back another wave of tears. "I loved him so much, but he..." Your voice broke entirely, and you couldn’t finish the sentence. The betrayal cut too deep, the pain still too raw. Your shoulders shook as the sobs overtook you again, and for a moment, Niki simply watched, feeling every tear as if it were his own.

Without a word, he scooted closer and gently scooped up a spoonful of ramen, blowing on it to cool it down. In one swift but gentle motion, he brought it to your lips. You were too startled to resist, and before you knew it, the warm broth was sliding down your throat. You blinked, surprised not only by the unexpected gesture but by how comforting the food felt, even though you hadn’t thought you could eat anything.

"Better?" Niki asked, his voice softer now, tinged with the slightest hint of a smile. "See? I’m a good cook." He kept feeding you in silence, his hand steady even as your tears continued to fall. He wasn’t great with words, but his actions spoke volumes—small, quiet gestures that showed you he cared, even if he didn’t always know how to say it.

You nodded faintly, the corners of your lips lifting just a little. "Yeah, you are," you mumbled, taking another bite as Niki held the spoon out for you. He continued to feed you, his movements patient and gentle, like he had all the time in the world. He wasn’t perfect, and he certainly wasn’t great at comforting, but in that moment, sitting beside you in the dim light of your shared dorm room, it was enough.

The next month passed in a haze. You did everything you could to avoid Dowon and Rina at school, steering clear of the places where they might be. You knew Niki was busy with his senior year, studying hard to prepare for his upcoming exams.

He had his own pressures and priorities, so you kept to the lower floors, avoiding the senior wing entirely. You didn’t want him to see you like this—crying in between classes, struggling to hold yourself together. The thought of burdening him with your constant tears made you feel even smaller.

Lunchtime arrived like any other day, and you took a deep breath as you entered the bustling school canteen. The chatter of students, the clattering of trays, and the scent of various foods filled the air. You quietly picked up a tray, moving through the line and choosing the least messy options.

Your goal was to be quick and unnoticeable, to eat alone in some quiet corner where no one would bother you. But as you were about to leave, you felt a cold, unsettling presence behind you.

Turning around, you came face-to-face with Rina. She stood there, her eyes glinting with malice and a cruel smile playing on her lips. She was taller, her posture confident and intimidating as she towered over you. The noise of the canteen seemed to quiet down, and it felt like all eyes were on the two of you. You clutched your tray tighter, already feeling your heart race in your chest.

“Look who’s here,” Rina sneered, her voice dripping with mockery. She glanced at her own tray, then back at you, a dangerous glint flashing in her eyes. “Still sulking over Dowon? You really are pathetic.”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the stinging retort that threatened to spill out. You didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. You tried to sidestep her, but she moved in front of you, blocking your path. You could see a few students had paused their conversations, eyes flickering towards the unfolding scene with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

“Do you have anything to say, or are you just going to keep being a crybaby?” Rina taunted, leaning in closer. Her voice was low enough that only you could hear the venom in her words, but her expression was all show, designed to make you look small in front of everyone. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat, tangled with the overwhelming urge to cry.

Before you could react, Rina lifted her tray and, with deliberate slowness, tipped it over your head. The contents—a mix of spaghetti, sauce, and soda—splattered across your hair and uniform. You gasped, instinctively stepping back, but it was too late. The cold, sticky mess clung to your skin, sliding down the back of your neck and staining your clothes.

You heard the collective laughter of the canteen erupt around you, students pointing and whispering, their faces alight with amusement at your expense. Rina’s smirk widened, her eyes glistening with cruel satisfaction as she stepped back, admiring her handiwork. You stood there, frozen in shock and humiliation, your tray clattering to the floor with a sharp clang that echoed through the room.

“Oh, come on, don’t cry,” Rina mocked, mimicking a pout. “You’re making this too easy. It’s just a little food, right? Or maybe you should be grateful—now you have something to actually cry about.”

Your vision blurred as tears welled up in your eyes, hot and uncontainable. You didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing you break, but the laughter around you felt like daggers, each one chipping away at your composure. You turned on your heel and bolted for the bathroom, ignoring the whispers and stifled giggles that followed you.

Slamming the door behind you, you rushed to the nearest stall and locked yourself inside. Your chest heaved as sobs wracked your body, the sound of your own crying muffled against the cold tiles. The food dripped from your hair and clothes, leaving greasy streaks and staining your uniform. You desperately tried to wipe it off, but the more you rubbed, the worse it seemed to get.

Why was it always you? Why did it feel like you were always the target, always the one getting hurt? You slumped against the stall wall, your legs giving out as you slid to the floor. You didn’t care that you were missing classes or that the bell had rung, signaling the end of lunch. Nothing mattered in that moment except the overwhelming, crushing feeling of isolation and betrayal.

You pulled your knees to your chest, burying your face in your hands as the sobs continued to shake you. The once warm ramen Niki had made you replayed in your mind—a small, comforting moment now overshadowed by the relentless cruelty of the world around you. It was hard to breathe through the tears, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as the humiliation washed over you in waves.

Minutes, maybe hours, passed before you dared to emerge. Your eyes were red and puffy, your cheeks stained with tears that wouldn’t stop falling. You glanced at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, seeing not just the mess of food but the reflection of a girl who felt utterly broken.

You wanted to scream, to let out the frustration and pain that had built up inside you for so long, but you couldn’t. All you could do was stand there, staring at the image of someone who couldn’t catch a break, wondering when—if ever—things would start to get better.

The knock on the bathroom door startled you, and you froze. You heard a girl's voice from the other side, timid yet urgent. “Hey, someone’s asking for you. He’s outside.”

You stopped sniffling, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand, your heart racing. The idea that it might be Dowon made your skin crawl, your mind instantly flashing back to the awful image of him with Rina. The thought of facing him now, in this state, was unbearable.

“Tell him…” your voice cracked, weak and broken. “Tell him I’m not coming out.” You sniffled, trying to keep your composure, but the tears wouldn’t stop. They never seemed to stop.

The girl’s footsteps receded, and you leaned back against the cold, tiled wall, hoping whoever was outside would just go away. You didn’t have the strength to face anyone right now, let alone the person you feared the most.

But then another voice pierced through the quiet, louder and unmistakably familiar. “Please come out. It’s me, Niki.” The urgency in his voice echoed through the empty restroom, and you could almost picture him standing there, awkwardly waiting just beyond the boundary of the girls' bathroom, trying not to overstep but too concerned to leave.

Your breath hitched. Niki? You hadn’t expected him. You didn’t want him to see you like this—disheveled, broken, and covered in food. The shame washed over you anew, and you buried your face in your hands, trying to stifle the sobs that kept bubbling up.

“Go away,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against your palms. You hoped he couldn’t hear the quiver in your tone, the way your words shook with the weight of everything you were trying to hold back. “Just go, Niki. I’m fine.”

“Please,” he called out, the desperation in his voice making your chest tighten. “Come out.”

You heard the faint creak of the bathroom door opening wider, and then footsteps—hesitant but determined—echoed against the tiles. Your breath caught. He was inside the girls' bathroom now, completely disregarding the rules, the boundaries. It was such a small, reckless act, but it meant the world in that moment.

You flinched as he gently knocked on the door to the stall you were hiding in, the sound echoing in the confined space. “I don’t care how you look,” he said softly, his voice closer now, almost a whisper but with an edge of firmness that brooked no argument. “Just come out.”

You hesitated, staring at the lock, your fingers trembling as you reached for it. Part of you wanted to stay hidden forever, to never face the world or anyone in it again. But Niki’s persistence, the unwavering concern in his voice, tugged at something deep within you. Slowly, you turned the knob and pushed the door open, revealing the sorry state you were in.

Niki’s eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of you—your uniform stained with spaghetti sauce, your hair matted and sticky, the remnants of Rina’s cruel prank all too evident. But he didn’t flinch. He didn’t make a face or step back in disgust. Instead, he moved closer, his expression shifting from shock to anger, and then to something softer, more tender.

“She did this, didn’t she?” he asked, his voice tight with barely contained fury. You nodded, a fresh wave of tears blurring your vision. You looked away, embarrassed, but he gently tilted your chin back up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“God, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his thumb brushing away a tear from your cheek. “I’m sorry you’re going through this.”

You tried to pull away, your hands pushing weakly against his chest. “Niki, don’t… I’ll ruin your uniform.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, thick with tears. You didn’t want to burden him with your mess, both literal and emotional.

But Niki only shook his head, his grip on your shoulders firm and steady. “That’s the last thing I care about right now,” he said, his tone resolute. His arms wrapped around you then, pulling you into his chest with a comforting pressure that was both unexpected and desperately needed. You stiffened at first, but then you sank into him, letting his warmth and the steady beat of his heart anchor you.

“I’m a mess,” you muttered, your voice breaking as you finally let yourself fall apart in his embrace. “I’m such a mess.”

He held you tighter, his chin resting atop your head as his fingers stroked your back in soothing circles. “I don’t care,” he said softly, his voice a quiet reassurance in the small, echoing space. “I’m here.”

You clung to him, your sobs quieting as the comfort of his presence washed over you. You could feel the dampness of your tears soaking into his shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind. He just kept holding you, his steady breaths matching the rhythm of your own shaky inhales and exhales.

“You’re in the girls’ bathroom,” you mumbled after a while, your voice muffled against his chest. It was a small, silly observation, but it felt strangely important to acknowledge in the midst of everything.

“I know,” he replied, a faint smile in his voice. “Doesn’t matter.”

“You know?” you repeated, sniffling as you pulled back slightly to look up at him, your eyes puffy and red. He nodded, his expression calm and unbothered, as if standing in the wrong bathroom was the least of his worries.

“Yeah,” he said, his gaze meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart ache. “I know, and I don’t care. Not if it means making sure you’re okay.”

You didn’t have a response to that. Instead, you let yourself be held, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt like a lifeline. For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to feel just a little bit safe. In his arms, the world seemed a little less cruel, and the weight on your shoulders felt just a little bit lighter.

Niki didn’t try to offer empty reassurances or tell you that everything would be fine. He didn’t try to fix the unfixable or pretend that your pain wasn’t real. He was just there, holding you in the quiet of the empty bathroom, letting you cry until there were no more tears left to shed. And in that simple act of being present, of showing up when you needed someone the most, he gave you a small, fragile hope that maybe—just maybe—you weren’t as alone as you felt.

Even though some time had passed since the incident, the sting of humiliation still lingered, wrapping around your heart like a thorny vine. The memory of Rina’s laughter and the mocking faces of your classmates played on a loop in your mind, refusing to fade. You sat on the edge of your bed in your small dorm room, clutching a book that you weren’t really reading, your eyes glazed over with the weight of thoughts you couldn't shake off.

Across the room, your roommate, Niki, was in the middle of an impromptu self-defense lesson. He stood by his bed, brandishing a pillow in the air as if it were Rina herself, his expression serious and animated. His movements were swift and precise as he demonstrated a move, grabbing an invisible head of hair with one hand and yanking it down with a forceful tug, the pillow tumbling onto the floor with a soft thud.

“You grab her hair like this,” Niki said, his voice firm, his eyes narrowing with an intensity that startled you. “And then you throw her to the ground when she tries that shit again.” He stood tall, his jaw clenched, still gripping the imaginary strands of hair in his fist. The determination in his gaze was almost palpable, as if he could channel all his fury through this makeshift demonstration.

You watched him, chewing on your lower lip as doubt crept into your mind. The whole scene felt surreal—Niki, a senior with finals to worry about, was spending his time teaching you how to fight back, his disdain for Rina and Dowon clear in every movement. It was sweet, in its own strange way, but it also made your stomach twist with anxiety.

“What if she gets hurt?” you asked softly, your voice barely audible as you glanced down at your lap, fiddling with the hem of your uniform skirt. The thought of retaliating, of actually causing harm, made you uneasy. You weren’t like Niki; you didn’t have his unyielding confidence or his unwavering sense of right and wrong. “What if I…?”

Niki shot you a look, his eyebrows raising as if you’d just suggested the most absurd thing in the world. “Hurt?” he repeated, his tone laced with disbelief. “That’s even better.”

You shifted uncomfortably, the conflict clear in your eyes as you looked up at him. “But what if the teachers suspend me? I’m not even a senior like you. I can’t just—what if they find out and—?”

He cut you off, shaking his head with a sharp, dismissive wave of his hand, his expression turning steely. “Then it’s their fault,” he snapped, his voice edged with frustration. “They didn’t do anything when she was bullying you. They ignored it. So what sense does it make if they step in when you’re defending yourself?” He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the bedpost as he fixed you with a stare that was equal parts stern and protective.

“But—”

“No buts,” he interrupted again, his voice softening just a touch as he knelt down to pick up the discarded pillow, fluffing it absentmindedly. “Look,” he sighed, sitting on the floor and resting his back against his bed, his shoulders slumping slightly. His earlier bravado had waned, and now he just looked… tired. “I’m not saying you have to hurt her, like, seriously. But you can’t keep letting her walk all over you. You have to stand up for yourself, even if it’s just once.”

You watched him, your heart squeezing at the sight of his sincerity. Niki was rarely this serious about anything other than his dance practice or his favorite video games, but here he was, fully invested in your cause. He was skipping out on his own studying to sit here and coach you, trying to build you up when all you wanted to do was curl up and disappear.

He glanced up, catching your gaze, and his expression softened further, the fierce lines of anger easing into something gentler. “You deserve better, you know,” he murmured, almost as if he were talking to himself. “You shouldn’t have to put up with people like her. Or like him.”

His words hung heavy in the air, sinking into the quiet room. You knew he was right, but the fear of retaliation, of further humiliation, still loomed large in your mind. It was hard to picture yourself standing up to Rina, to imagine a version of you that was strong and unafraid. But Niki’s belief in you, the quiet determination in his voice, made you want to try, if only for him.

You glanced at the pillow still clutched in his hands, then back at him, and a small, uncertain smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “You really think I can do it?”

He nodded without hesitation, a spark of encouragement lighting up his eyes. “I know you can. And even if you mess up, even if things don’t go perfectly…” He trailed off, his lips curving into a playful grin as he tossed the pillow back onto his bed, his mood shifting to something lighter. “I’ve got your back. Always.”

His words warmed you in a way that you couldn’t quite put into words. For a moment, the weight of your fears felt just a little bit lighter, and the shadows of doubt began to retreat. Niki’s confidence, his unwavering support, gave you a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as powerless as you felt.

“Thanks, Niki,” you whispered, your voice soft but sincere. He just shrugged, brushing it off as if it were nothing, but the gentle smile that lingered on his face told you everything you needed to know.

For the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe, with a friend like him by your side, you could find the strength to fight back. Not just against Rina or Dowon, but against all the things that had been holding you down for far too long. And that was a feeling worth holding onto.

Niki tossed the pillow at you with a playful grin, watching as it bounced off your shoulder. “You’ll have to pay for the lesson, though,” he teased, winking at you before spinning on his heel and heading over to his cluttered desk, which was strewn with textbooks, notes, and half-empty snack wrappers. He plopped down into his chair with a dramatic sigh, cracking open a thick workbook filled with math problems he clearly wasn’t thrilled about.

You caught the pillow, rolling your eyes as you tossed it back onto his bed. “Seriously?” you huffed, crossing your arms with an exaggerated pout. “I’m cooking for the fourth time this week, Niki.”

He glanced over his shoulder, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “And you’re still complaining? I think you secretly enjoy it,” he teased, turning his attention back to his workbook. “Besides, you make the best fried rice. No one else’s comes close.”

A small smile crept onto your face despite your mock annoyance. It was hard to stay mad when Niki was so effortlessly charming. He always knew how to lighten the mood, how to pull you out of your funk with just a few words. You shook your head and made your way over to the small corner of your shared room that you had turned into a makeshift kitchen.

It wasn’t much—just a portable stove, a mini-fridge, and a few shelves stacked with ingredients and cooking utensils—but it was cozy, and it had quickly become your little sanctuary.

As you started to cook, the rhythmic sound of chopping vegetables and the sizzle of rice hitting the hot pan filled the room. You added a dash of soy sauce, the savory aroma wafting through the air. In between stirring the rice and adding spices, you glanced over at Niki.

He was hunched over his desk, a pencil in hand as he scribbled furiously in his notebook, his brow furrowed in concentration. Every now and then, he’d let out a groan of frustration, tossing his pencil down and running a hand through his hair.

“You okay over there?” you called out, trying to stifle a giggle as you watched him wrestle with the math problem in front of him.

“No, this is torture,” Niki groaned dramatically, leaning back in his chair with an exasperated sigh. He spun around to face you, pointing accusingly at the workbook. “Why do they even make us learn this stuff? I’m never going to use this in real life.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you gave the rice one last stir. “You’re a senior, Niki. You’ve only got a few more months of this. Then you’ll be free to do whatever you want.”

“Yeah, but those few months feel like an eternity,” he muttered, slumping forward onto his desk. He rested his chin in his hand, his eyes drifting over to you as you plated the fried rice. His expression softened, the frustration fading from his features as he watched you move around the kitchen. “But I guess it’s not so bad with you here.”

You couldn’t help but blush at his words, your heart doing a little flip in your chest. “Well, I’m glad I can make it a little less unbearable,” you said, setting the plates down on the small table near the window. The sunlight streamed in, casting a warm glow over the room, making it feel even cozier.

Niki joined you at the table, sliding into the chair across from you. He picked up his fork, poking at the steaming mound of rice with a contented sigh. “Seriously, you’re a lifesaver,” he said between bites, his eyes lighting up as he tasted your cooking. “I don’t know what I’d do without your fried rice.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you took a bite of your own. “You’d probably survive on instant noodles and chips,” you teased, glancing at the pile of snack wrappers still littering his desk.

“Hey, those are essentials,” Niki shot back, a playful glint in his eyes. “But yeah, I guess I’d starve without you.”

The banter between you flowed easily, as natural as breathing. Niki had a way of making everything feel lighter, less overwhelming. Even on the toughest days, when it felt like the world was against you, he was always there, his presence a constant source of comfort and strength.

And lately, with him by your side at school and in the dorm, things had been looking up. You were paying more attention in class, your grades were improving, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you were on the right path.

As you finished your meal, Niki leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. He looked over at you, his eyes warm and filled with something you couldn’t quite place, something that made your heart flutter in your chest.

As the months went by, you couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in your chest whenever you thought about Niki’s upcoming graduation. The end of the school year loomed closer, each passing day marking one step closer to a future where he wouldn't be just a room away, wouldn’t be at the same school, wouldn’t share your everyday moments.

The thought gnawed at you, the inevitable distance feeling like a prelude to being forgotten. You did your best to push Niki away, ignoring him when you could, though you still found yourselves sharing meals occasionally. It wasn’t that you wanted to be cruel; you just couldn’t afford to fall for him. Not now, not when you knew how painful the ending could be.

Your past with Dowon had left its scars, deep and raw, and the thought of letting your guard down again terrified you. Dowon had promised you the world, made you feel loved, only to shatter everything with betrayal. The wounds he left were still fresh, and the fear of repeating that heartbreak was paralyzing.

Niki noticed the distance, the way your conversations became shorter and how you avoided his gaze. He tried to reach out, but the pressure of his exams kept him distracted, and he chalked it up to stress, figuring things would smooth over eventually. Still, a part of him missed the easy connection you shared, the way you used to laugh and talk without any barriers between you.

One day, as you wandered the school hallways lost in your thoughts, the sudden impact of being shoved into the cold metal lockers snapped you back to reality. A loud clang echoed through the corridor, drawing the attention of nearby students, who turned to watch with wide eyes but made no move to intervene.

Your heart raced as you tried to pull away, struggling against the firm grip that pinned you. It was Dowon, his face twisted with a mix of anger and smug satisfaction as he held you against the lockers, his grip rough and unrelenting.

“Stop! Let me go!” you yelled, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and defiance. You thrashed against his hold, your body instinctively trying to break free, but he was stronger, and the pressure of his weight kept you trapped.

Dowon sneered, his eyes dark with malice as he leaned in closer. “You think you can just walk away? You’re nothing without me,” he taunted, his voice dripping with contempt. He moved to press his lips against yours, not out of any genuine affection but as a cruel reminder of the control he used to wield over you, the humiliation stinging more than any physical pain.

Rina stood nearby, watching the scene unfold with a twisted smile of satisfaction. She relished in your distress, pleased by the spectacle of your helplessness, her eyes glinting with malice as she watched you squirm.

Just as you felt the sickening proximity of Dowon’s breath, a commotion in the crowd caught your attention. Niki, who had been walking by, stopped dead in his tracks at the sight before him.

His eyes widened in shock, his mind reeling as he took in the scene: Dowon pinning you to the lockers, the sneering expression on his face, and the group of students watching like it was some kind of twisted show. The disbelief quickly gave way to anger, a fiery protectiveness flaring up inside him as he pushed his way through the crowd.

“Niki!” You spotted him just as he started to move, his steps purposeful, but before he could reach you, a sharp, pained scream tore through the air. Everyone, including Niki, froze for a moment, stunned and confused, eyes darting around to find the source of the noise. It took Niki a second to realize it was Dowon who had screamed, his face contorted in agony as he doubled over, clutching himself.

Niki’s gaze dropped to see you standing there, your breath ragged and face flushed with adrenaline. You had kicked Dowon squarely in the groin, your expression fierce and unapologetic, the pent-up anger and frustration finally boiling over. Dowon staggered back, his eyes wide with a mixture of pain and shock, clearly not expecting you to fight back so fiercely.

“You bitch!” Dowon spat, his voice laced with both rage and humiliation. He tried to straighten up, but the pain made him buckle again.

Rina, seeing Dowon’s vulnerability, started to rush forward, her face a mask of fury. She was ready to defend him, to turn the situation against you once more, but before she could reach you, Niki stepped in. With swift precision, he landed a solid punch on Dowon’s jaw, sending him stumbling back into the lockers. The sound of the impact echoed through the hallway, a collective gasp rippling through the onlookers.

Niki stood between you and Dowon, his posture tense, fists clenched, and eyes blazing with fury. He turned slightly, just enough to glance back at you, his expression softening when he saw the tear tracks on your cheeks, the lingering fear in your eyes. He reached out, gently cupping your face with one hand, his thumb brushing away a stray tear.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low but filled with concern, his gaze searching yours for any sign of hurt.

You nodded, still catching your breath, your heart pounding in your chest. The warmth of his touch and the protective stance he took in front of you made your insides twist with conflicting emotions. You wanted to sink into his comfort, to let yourself be vulnerable, but the walls you had built around your heart were still there, still reminding you of the risks.

Dowon, still reeling from both your kick and Niki’s punch, glared at Niki with venom in his eyes. “You think you can just—”

“Shut up,” Niki snapped, his voice dangerously calm. He didn’t bother looking at Dowon, his focus entirely on you. “If you ever touch her again, you’ll regret it.”

The weight of Niki’s words hung heavily in the air, a clear warning that left no room for argument. Dowon, clutching his bruised jaw and still hunched over in pain, knew better than to push his luck. He staggered back, shooting you one last spiteful look before limping away, Rina following closely behind, her smug confidence deflated.

The hallway slowly returned to its usual buzz as the crowd dispersed, students whispering and casting glances your way. Niki remained close, his protective stance unwavering as he watched Dowon disappear around the corner. Finally, he turned to face you fully, his hands dropping to his sides, his expression softening as he took in the sight of you.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?” Niki’s voice was gentle, but there was an edge of hurt beneath his words. “I could’ve done something sooner.”

You looked down, biting your lip as you tried to hold back the fresh wave of tears. “I didn’t want to bother you. You’ve got your own stuff to deal with… your exams, graduation…”

Niki reached out, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes made your breath hitch, his proximity making your heart race all over again. “You’re not a bother,” he said firmly, his voice steady. “Not now, not ever.”

There was a beat of silence, the kind that felt heavy with unspoken words and unacknowledged feelings. The hallway, once filled with chaos and noise, now felt like it belonged to just the two of you. Niki’s hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin. It was a small gesture, but it was enough to make your resolve waver, the walls around your heart starting to crumble.

“You matter to me,” Niki continued, his voice softening. “More than you know.”

The confession hung in the air, fragile and vulnerable, and you couldn’t help but let a tear slip down your cheek. Niki’s gaze softened even more as he wiped it away, his touch warm and reassuring. For the first time in a long while, you felt seen, truly seen, and the fear of falling, of opening yourself up to the possibility of hurt, started to feel a little less daunting with Niki standing there, unwavering and true.

Without thinking, you leaned in, your forehead resting against his, the closeness between you both charged with unspoken emotions. Niki didn’t pull away; instead, he stayed still, his breath mingling with yours in the narrow space between you. In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of what had just happened, you let yourself believe—if only for a second—that maybe, just maybe, this ending wouldn’t be like the last.

The dorm room door clicked shut behind you, and the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights filled the space. Niki dropped his bag by the door, glancing back at you with a soft smile as you lingered near the entrance, your eyes distant and lost in thought. He could see the way your shoulders were still tense, the echoes of the hallway confrontation still weighing on you.

“You were good today,” Niki murmured, stepping closer. His voice was gentle, almost reverent, as if he were afraid any louder would break the fragile calm between you. “Fighting them off like that. You were… amazing.” There was a glimmer of admiration in his eyes, mixed with something deeper, something that made your heart clench.

You nodded absently, but your mind was elsewhere. There was only a month left until Niki’s graduation, and the looming prospect of his departure cast a long shadow over every shared moment. The thought of him leaving gnawed at you, and despite how hard you tried to push it away, the fear was relentless, gnawing at the edges of your resolve.

Niki’s brows furrowed as he watched you, his smile fading when he noticed the frown etched on your face. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm in a light, reassuring touch. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice tinged with concern. “What’s wrong?”

You hesitated, biting your lower lip as you fought back the tears that threatened to spill. The question that had been clawing at your heart finally escaped in a soft, trembling whisper. “Will you… forget me once you graduate?”

The words hung between you, heavy and vulnerable, and Niki’s expression softened. He didn’t hesitate. In one fluid motion, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. The warmth of his embrace was immediate, grounding you in a way that nothing else could. You could feel the steady beat of his heart against your cheek, and it was as if he were trying to convey everything he couldn’t say in words through the closeness alone.

“Stupid girl,” Niki muttered into your hair, his voice filled with a tender exasperation. He held you tighter, his fingers threading through your hair, his touch both gentle and firm. “I’ve loved you for all those years while you were dating Dowon, and now that I finally have you out of that hell, why would I forget you?”

His words were so matter-of-fact, spoken as if they were the most natural thing in the world, as if the idea of ever letting you go was something that had never even crossed his mind. You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your eyes searching his for any hint of doubt, but all you found was sincerity, raw and unguarded. It made your heart stutter in your chest, the truth of his confession sinking in.

“I—” you began, your voice faltering as uncertainty crept in. You couldn’t understand why someone like Niki would feel that way about you, someone who had always been so confident, so capable. “Why would you like me?”

Niki’s gaze softened, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek, wiping away a tear that had slipped free. His touch lingered, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw as he considered your question. “Why not?” he replied simply, his tone gentle but firm, as if he were countering an argument he’d heard a thousand times before.

You shook your head, frustration bubbling up as you tried to articulate the insecurities that had been festering inside you. “Because I’m short, I cry too much, I’m weak… I can’t do anything without help, I don’t get good grades—” The words tumbled out in a rush, each one carrying a weight of self-doubt that had built up over the years. But before you could finish, Niki pulled you in tighter, cutting you off with the sudden intensity of his embrace.

“Stupid,” he whispered against your ear, his voice low and filled with a quiet fierceness that sent shivers down your spine. “You’re really stupid if you think any of that matters to me.”

You felt his hands slide up to cup your face, tilting it so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes made your breath hitch, and you could see the conviction there, the unyielding certainty that left no room for doubt.

“You’re not weak,” he continued, his voice steady and unwavering. “You’re strong. Stronger than you know. You kicked Dowon today. You stood up for yourself. You’re not afraid to show your emotions, and that’s not a weakness—it’s brave.”

His thumbs brushed over your cheekbones, wiping away the remnants of your tears, his touch tender and careful. “You make people feel like they matter, you care more than anyone I’ve ever met, and you try so damn hard even when things get tough. That’s what I see when I look at you. Not grades, not height, none of that. Just you.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in. It was overwhelming, this outpouring of affection and reassurance, and you felt your defenses crumbling, the walls you’d built to protect yourself from heartache starting to give way. Niki’s hands remained on your face, steady and grounding, his touch a reminder that he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Why are you so sure about me?” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you leaned into his touch, the warmth of his palms a comforting anchor.

“Because I’ve watched you,” Niki said softly, his breath mingling with yours in the narrow space between you. “I’ve seen you at your best and your worst, and I’ve never once doubted that you’re worth it. Worth everything.”

The vulnerability in his voice matched your own, and for the first time, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, he was right. You reached up, your fingers brushing against his wrist, your touch light and tentative. “I don’t want to be forgotten,” you admitted, your voice cracking slightly under the weight of your fears. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Niki’s grip tightened, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath warm and reassuring. “You won’t lose me,” he promised, the conviction in his voice strong and unwavering. “No matter where I go or what happens after graduation, you’re stuck with me. Got it?”

A small, shaky laugh escaped you, the tension in your chest loosening just a bit as you nodded. “Got it,” you whispered, a smile finally breaking through the tears.

Niki’s lips brushed your forehead, a soft, lingering kiss that felt like a seal of his promise, a quiet assurance that you were not alone in this. The world outside the dorm room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that moment, the quiet hum of the lights and the soft rhythm of your breathing the only sounds filling the space.

You held onto each other, the uncertainties of the future still lingering, but with the warmth of his embrace, the fears didn’t seem as daunting, and for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to hope.

The auditorium was buzzing with excitement and the hum of proud conversations. Graduates dressed in their caps and gowns were surrounded by family and friends, the air filled with laughter, cheers, and the occasional tearful embrace. Niki stood among them, his smile wide as his parents hugged him tightly, and his friends clapped him on the back in congratulations. But even as he thanked them, his eyes were constantly scanning the crowd, searching for the one face he wanted to see most.

As the ceremony came to an end, the flood of people pouring out into the bright sunshine did little to lift the knot of unease in his chest. He pulled out his phone, checking his messages for the third time, but there was still nothing from you. The smile on his face started to falter, replaced by a flicker of disappointment that he couldn't quite hide.

Niki sighed, running a hand through his hair as he made his way back to the dorms. Even though he’d moved out a few days ago, the empty room called to him, and his feet carried him there on autopilot, his mind still caught up in the absence of your presence.

He opened the door to find the room dark, only the faint glow of the late afternoon sun creeping through the gaps in the curtains. You were there, curled up on your bed, a tangle of sheets wrapped around you as if they were the only thing keeping you anchored. The sight of you asleep, so peaceful and yet so impossibly out of reach, sent a pang through Niki’s chest. He felt both relief and frustration bubble up, clashing in a confusing storm of emotions.

Without a word, Niki dropped his cap and gown on the floor and moved toward you, his footsteps quiet but urgent. He didn’t stop until he was right beside your bed, looking down at you with a mixture of fond exasperation and aching affection. Your eyes fluttered open, hazy and unfocused, and before you could react, Niki was leaning over, his hands bracing on either side of your head as he pinned you gently against the mattress.

“You seriously gave me a heart attack,” he muttered, his voice a low, playful growl that was laced with genuine concern. He flopped down next to you, not caring about the narrow space, and pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you with a desperate kind of need. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the faint scent of laundry detergent, comforting and so very Niki. He buried his face in your hair, letting out a deep breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

You shifted slightly, your body relaxing into his embrace even as you kept your eyes closed, your head resting on his shoulder. “I didn’t want to get up,” you mumbled, your voice soft and drowsy, still clinging to the remnants of sleep. There was a vulnerability in your words, a quiet confession that hung in the space between you.

Niki’s brows knitted together, his hold on you tightening just a fraction as he tilted his head to look at you. “Why?” he asked gently, his voice barely above a whisper. He could feel the steady beat of your heart against his side, and it grounded him in a way that nothing else could.

“The dream was pleasant,” you admitted, your eyes still half-closed, the corners of your lips curling up in a small, wistful smile. The way you said it, so soft and fragile, made Niki’s heart twist. He could tell that you were caught between the comfort of the dream and the reality that was now pressing in around you, and for a moment, he felt helpless.

Niki’s gaze softened as he watched you, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your arm. He understood what you weren’t saying, the fear of what came next, the uncertainty of the future now that graduation had finally come and gone. He didn’t push you to explain, didn’t ask for more than you were willing to give. Instead, he moved closer, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss that lingered, his breath warm against your skin.

“I’m right here,” he murmured, his voice low and comforting. “You don’t have to wake up if you don’t want to.”

You let out a soft, contented sigh, your body instinctively curling closer to his, and for a moment, it felt like time had slowed. The world outside the dorm room ceased to exist, leaving just the two of you in this small, intimate bubble. Niki’s hands roamed gently, his fingers trailing up your back, over your shoulders, and down your sides, as if he were trying to memorize every inch of you, to commit this moment to memory.

A shiver ran down your spine as his touch grew bolder, his lips ghosting over your temple, then lower, tracing the curve of your cheek. Your breath hitched, your eyes finally opening fully to meet his, and the look in Niki’s eyes was intense, filled with an emotion that made your heart race. He didn’t need to say anything more; the way his gaze held yours, unwavering and full of quiet longing, spoke volumes.

Niki’s mouth found yours in a slow, deliberate kiss, his lips moving against yours with a gentle urgency that made your head spin. It was as if he were pouring all of his unspoken words, his fears and hopes, into that kiss, and you felt yourself melting into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. The kiss deepened, becoming more heated, more desperate, as if both of you were trying to grasp onto something solid in the midst of the uncertainty.

You broke away first, your breaths coming in short, shallow bursts as you stared at him, your lips still tingling from the intensity of the kiss. Niki’s forehead pressed against yours, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt or hesitation. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing lightly over your cheeks, wiping away the lingering traces of tears.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said firmly, his voice filled with a quiet conviction that left no room for doubt. “Not now, not ever. Graduation doesn’t change that.”

You swallowed hard, your heart swelling with a mixture of relief and something deeper, something that you were finally beginning to understand. Niki’s unwavering presence, the way he held you without question, without hesitation, was more than you ever thought you deserved. And as you lay there, tangled in each other’s arms, the weight of the future didn’t seem so daunting anymore.

“Promise?” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you leaned into his touch.

“Promise,” Niki replied, sealing it with another soft, lingering kiss that tasted of reassurance and the beginnings of something new, something that would not fade with the passing of time.

And in that moment, as the last rays of the afternoon sun filtered through the curtains, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, this was your new beginning.

i just want to say thanks to those who supported and left sweet messages on my last fic, it meant a lot <3

746 notes · View notes

ohimsummer · 9 months

Text

COLD SHOULDER ft. BULLY! SATOSUGU

—minors dni, dubcon, oral [f. receiving], bully!satosugu x fem! reader, nipple play, groping, kissing, fingering, clit stimulation, one pussy slap, pet names (princess, pretty (girl), baby, sweetheart, puppy), implied penetration at the end

wc 2.2k

It’s obvious that someone like Gojo feeds off your reactions. He tugs at your hair so you yell at him, gets in your face until you’re forced to push him away, and he loves, loves, loves, the back and forth bickering for those truly vile insults you always sling his way. He’s just obsessed with little ol’ you. Barely at height with his chest, can’t move him an inch even with your sturdiest push, and yet you remain combative to Gojo’s every action. Until you’re not.

“You know she’s been giving me the silent treatment these past few days?” The warm feel of Gojo’s breath skims the shell of your ear, warmth pooling in your core while you shrivel deeper into Geto’s chest. Gojo runs a tongue over your earlobe, and pulls back just enough to catch your gaze, white brows upturned into a sad pout, before whining, “I mean really, what’s a guy gotta do for a pretty girl’s attention around here?”

Your eyesight darts to anything else in whoever’s bedroom this is, hoping to find some kind of distraction to take your mind off of these two. Gojo’s hot, heavy pants are loud over the stifled bump of music in the main area, piercing shrieks and cheers of drunk and crazed partygoers who are none the wiser to your current dilemma. Large, curious hands wander beneath your skirt, toying with the snug waistband of your panties. Geto’s firm hold keeps your wrists bound at the curve of your back, leaving you at the fiendish mercy of his white-haired friend.

“Just look at you, all pretty and dolled up.,” Gojo hums, lips lingering over your neck as he inhales your scent, before teeth sink in to add another purplish mark on your skin. “Can’t keep my hands off ya, princess.”

You want to lash out at him, bite back with the heinous album of comments that have been building on your tongue, hopefully enough to bruise his massive ego. Or tell him to get the hell off of you and keep his filthy hands out of your space. And he knows it, Gojo can recognize that familiar look of fury in your eyes, and he just adores how you so stubbornly keep biting your tongue. The stronger your efforts, the higher his yearning to hear just a single word from you.

“Still tryin’ to ignore us?,” Geto chuckles into the crown of your head. “Shame, I love the sound of that pretty voice.” He fidgets under you, grinding himself against your ass, an intoxicating, herbal smell of drugs wafting off of him. “C’mon, Satoru, make our little puppy bark.”

“Gladly”, Gojo remarks, eyebrows wiggling at you before two fingers skim dangerously close to your core. A shiver runs through you as Gojo mashes firm fingers to your cunt, prodding at your throbbing entrance through your panties, rubbing them over your pussy and coating your underwear in slick. Your lips quiver, legs desperately moving to close but they’re hooked over his friend’s knees, and Gojo licks his lips at your response. He casts a glance over your shoulder, likely at Geto, before moving up an inch to your aching clit.

“Ha, you’re fuckin’ soaked.,” he laughs teasingly, pulling at the crotch of your panties and watching the dripping strings of fluid connect back to your cunt, before letting the fabric snap back into place. “Actin’ all tough, pff, whatever.”

The words ‘shut up’ graze the tip of your tongue, just begging to be said, but you refuse to give in. That’s all they, especially Gojo, want. To get some kind of vehement reaction from you, and you won’t allow them the pleasure. Not when Geto eases a hand up your shirt to free your tits from your bra, and not even when Gojo begins sliding your underwear down your legs.

You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling on the plump flesh, eyes narrowing at the sight of your panties disappearing into Gojo’s pockets before he spreads your thighs even wider. Heat rushes to your face at the knowledge that your pussy is practically on display for him. His twinkling blue eyes flicker over your glistening cunt, playful as Gojo leans in to plant rough kisses and nips over the expanse of your thighs. He spreads the drenched lips of your pussy, taking in the way you tighten and squeeze in a plea to be filled, before poking an index finger at your hole. His finger sinks right in, swallowed by your wet, greedy cunt up to his knuckle before he wiggles it around inside you. Geto takes note of your hitched breathing, how your wrists defy his grip in an effort for freedom. You catch winks of flowing black next to you, almost blending in with the dark shadows of this room, before you hear his voice low in your ear:

“Feel good, darling?”, Geto studies the flutter of your lids as his friend drives shallow thrusts into you. A long, needy whine breaks free, and he huffs a small laugh. “Mm, I know.”

Gojo sighs,“Fuck…”, totally awestruck at the way his large digit just disappears amidst the gumminess of your drooling walls. He retreats from your entrance, and both you and Geto can clearly tell he’s in love with the way your slick coats and drips down his finger. A steady fire blooms across every inch of your skin as Gojo takes the messy finger in his mouth, moaning in satisfaction at the flavor of you on his tongue. He savors the taste, eyes never leaving your own, and you watch as Gojo thoroughly licks the finger clean.

“Wanna taste?,” he asks when he’s done, pink tongue darting over his lips. “Or is that gross?”

He laughs at the scowl that forms on your face. You hate how Gojo somehow reads you so well, knows you’d call him disgusting and a pervert for what he just did. Hate how, if he didn’t know before, he definitely knows now that this is turning you on, if the way you leak fluids all down your thighs and this wooden dresser is any indication.

Geto’s pinch of your nipple acts as a distraction, pulling your attention back to his feverish, one-handed assault of your breasts. His fist clenches around your wrists, and you feel the hardness of Geto’s erection on your ass when he rolls his hips against you again.

“Mph!,” you barely stifle a whimper when Gojo lands a slap on your pussy, wetness spraying onto his flushed face. The way these two keep yanking your focus in every direction has your head dizzy.

Gojo raises an eyebrow at you. “Oh, what was that? Wanna speak up, princess?”

You give a desperate shake of your head, struggling to control the heave of your breathes as he begins massaging your clit under his thumb. “You sure?” And when you glare down at him, he shrugs. “Alright, then!”

Your eyes widen as he leans in closer, tracing over you one last time, and takes your pulsating clit between his lips, a loud whine catching in your throat as Gojo gives you a harsh suck. Head falling back over Geto’s shoulder, you arch away from his body, toes curling as Gojo laps and suckles onto the aching bud. Your jaw clenches, whimpering noises bubbling up your throat as your eyes roll to the back of your head, but you can’t help the few moans and mewls that break free.

“Ah, there it is, those sweet sounds.,” Geto muses, squeezing your wrists again in warning before releasing his grip on you. He’s pleased when you make no effort to fight back, muttering a ‘good girl’ with a pinch to your ass and trails his newly free hand up the expanse of your throat. Giving it a light squeeze, he kisses the roundness of your cheek, faintly rubbing a thumb over the tensed skin of your neck, and pulls your lips towards him. Your lids flutter open a crack, blurry image of Geto’s defined features overrunning your vision, before the soft feel of his lips covers your mind in a thick fog. Without your hands or a bruising bite to stifle yourself, the noise of your high-pitched cries easily begin to flood the room, a satisfying melody for both their ears.

“Can’t keep it in anymore, pretty?,” Gojo’s muffled taunt reaches from between your thighs, vibrations of his voice on your clit sending a twitch throughout your legs.

You can’t see him, only the mess of white hairs from the corner of your vision, but you can feel the penetration of his tongue, how it traces the surface of your walls, determined to mark every inch within reach. He uses thick fingers to bully your pulsating clit with rough circles and sharp pinches, rolling the hardened nub in his mouth between laps and broad strokes of his tongue, all of which easily drive out loud, needy whines you couldn’t even hope to hold back anymore.

“Keep making those lovely sounds, darling.” Geto moans into your mouth, sucking on your tongue before biting at your bottom lip. “Show Satoru how good he’s making you feel.”

Hot pants brush over your pussy, but Gojo continues his abuse of your clit. “Yeah, baby, talk to me, hm?”

The words, whether they were praise or an insult, because at this point you don’t know, get stuck in your throat, leaving room for only a choked sob to fall out as your hips mindlessly rut against Satoru’s fingers. Geto tightens his fist around your throat, leaving you struggling for already difficult breathes, his fingers still pinching and tugging at the pebbled skin of your nipples. The warmth in your abdomen has blossomed into a raging fire, muscles spasming as you gasp against Geto’s face, curses of ‘f–fuck–!’ and ‘shit!’ leaving your kiss-swollen lips at the sensation of your rapidly approaching orgasm.

“Hey, princess…,” Gojo catches your half-lidded gaze, tears building at the corners of your eyes. “Better talk to me or you don’t get to cum, got it?”

You twist your lips in a scowl, mind too dizzy but you know he means what he says, and you think you’d pass out and die if he took your orgasm from you when you were so close. He’s such an asshole, of course he’d hold your orgasm ransom just to get a few half-baked remarks out of you. Gojo's eyes peer into your own, head slightly tilted as he watches you weigh the options in your mind.

“F–,” he raises a brow expectantly, azure eyes widening in anticipation, trained on your lips as you hesitate on your words. “Fuck you, Gojo.”

And you’d think someone had just offered him all the money in the world the way his eyes light up, gleaming cerulean blues that crease under the giant grin on his face.

“Ah!,” he teases, shortly relishing in the moan you let out as he stuffs a third finger into your cunt. “There it is! Been dyin’ to say that to me all day, haven’t ya?”

You try and focus on something else, anything else to drown out his incessant mockery. But all that’s on your mind is Geto’s tongue down your throat, and his strong hand restricting your airflow, and Gojo still talking as his fingers curl to press into that spongy spot inside you–

“S–Satoru!,” you cry out, legs quaking as the coil in your tummy snaps, and your pussy gushes around his fingers.

Gojo stares, thoroughly bewitched by the way his name fell off your lips, and the cum drooling from your pussy, remnants of it dripping down his face and embedding into his clothes. “Holy shit…”He absentmindedly runs his thumb over the mess of your still-spasming cunt, barely taking in when you jolt under his touch.

“Stop it, Gojo, ‘m sensitive.,” you murmur between Geto's softened, sporadic kisses.

Your voice draws his attention, and suddenly Gojo is extremely aware of the aching hardness between his legs. He reaches down to palm at himself, hissing at the press of his hand against the bulge, before standing up from his kneeled position.

“Just look what you did, got me stiff as shit down here.,” Gojo huffs, undoing his pants to allow his cock some much-needed air.

You watch, dumbstruck, as the large appendage springs free. Even in the dim light of this room, you can see the redness of his tip, dick bobbing, precum dribbling down the length of it as Gojo takes a step closer, lining himself up with your entrance before rubbing up and down your slit.

Your eyes widen in surprise and you wriggle, only accomplishing to rub your sensitive clit against the head of his cock and Gojo sighs out a breath. “I-I said–!”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard ya.,” he interjects, rubbing two hands over your thighs. Gojo takes the back of your knees, holding your legs up higher to essentially fold you in half, and presses his hips forward, watching your cunt threaten to swallow his tip. “Maybe it’s good that you’re all sensitive, now. Might get ya talking some more for us, no?”

You angrily narrow your eyes at him, whining at the burn of his fat tip stretching you out. “No.”

And Gojo’s smirk widens. “Yeah, baby, just like that.”

#satosugu x reader #bully!satosugu #bully satosugu #satoru gojo smut #geto suguru smut #suguru geto x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satosugu x reader smut #suguru geto smut #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader

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not-the-cheese · 1 year

Text

one sentence summaries of every TMA episode

(1-60 i'll add more soon)

part 2 up!

world's most effective anti-smoking PSA

man DOES NOT open coffin. everyone claps.

woman is judgemental towards neighbor even though she has hobbies that are just as weird.

book makes multiple people fall off chair.

man finds bag of teeth and decides he absolutely needs to fuck around and find out.

worm sti.

there was a SCARY MAN in the WAR.

fuck this tree

well at least ted bundy was a great father :)

i'm like 55% sure vampires are real and i'm willing to take those odds

bitches be dying. you're next.

we kill this man because he made the soda too warm.

sorry ur husband's dead. maybe get some help.

Unbox with me ! (GONE WRONG)

hah i'm safe from this one because i have decided to Never Go Into a Cave Ever.

man is so annoying about this spider that even his cat can't be bothered

man's bully finds a book about a Bone Turner and subsequently begins turning people's bones.

this guy sucks at DIY home improvement

aw maybe this priest didn't do anything THAT bad!

oh fuck nevermind

THE SKY ATE MY SON.

the worms stole my identity. i haven't left the house in days.

man beats german children at game of bravery and wins a coin (he later loses this coin)

my ex boyfriend gets casted in the muppets and dies

sorry mom, i've abandoned jesus for a new religion : jesus in the dark.

tall squiggly and HANDsome

old man arm wrestles demon through door knob

the buzzfeed unsolved guys finally catch a ghost but it's their sound tech

immortality but at what cost

working at the big meat factory was so traumatizing it made me vegetarian

i go to america and get almost killed by a furry

well if you love that wasp nest so much why don't you MARRY it (and then she did)

antisocial boat crew bands together to exclude one guy from a midnight party. he dies from the rejection.

bone apple teeth

remember when that norwegian guy threw a tantrum about us not digging a hole? turns out we were right to not dig that hole.

babe come over my parents have taken ill and passed away

man fucks around and it costs him everything

HOMOPHOBIC CHINESE VASE

oh god oh fuck the worms are here

thank you for participating in worms! please rate your wormsperience from 1 to 10.

the wormsperience has left me deeply scarred. i'm going to get lost in a tunnel about it.

🎸music makes me loose control🎸

spooky stories to tell at the next police slumber party

child threatens to run away and join the circus one too many times, and now the circus has come to cash in.

these mosquitoes are mad sus

man frequents local barnes and noble and then dies(?) after liking a book too much.

realtor gets eaten by the backrooms twice. it's a terrible shame.

both me and this weird goth dude have an unsatisfying italy vacation

guy who turns people's bones gets a new job where he continues to turn people's bones.

man who should never be allowed to build prisons builds a prison.

Something Big Is In The Water.

what if u heard me about 15 feet behind you fumbling around and calling out ur name 😳 (and we were both prison guards)

i'm going to be honest i didn't retain anything from this episode except that this guy has the silliest old man voice ever

everybody hates the tax man, including these creepy taxidermy animals

hmmgh. ant house.

so turns out being only 55% sure that vampires are real in my career as a vampire hunter has had some consequences.

the only thing keeping you company in space is your abandonment issues

🎶 the snack that smiles back 🎶 (my husband!)

maybe the real treasure was the house siblings we encased in spider web along the way.

your dead brother wrote books about ancient myths and WHAT

Part 2

#i hope this convinces you to listen to tma #podcast #the magnus archives #martin blackwood #tma #jon sims #sasha james #podcasts #gay podcasts #tim stoker #elias bouchard #peter lukas

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rainydaydreamsideblog · 5 months

Text

(The Maze Runner) Imagine: He Protects You

It can be dangerous, especially for the only girl in the Glade.

Warnings: Guys being creeps in the Glade (nothing graphic), bullying, the Maze, danger.

. . .Thomas. . .

It’s a beautiful evening in the Glade. You’re walking straight along the treeline on your way to run a final errand for Alby at the end of the day. The sun is no longer visible, as it already descended far enough to be blocked by the walls.

Suddenly, you get the creeps. It was hard to explain, but you feel goosebumps bloom along your skin, and you get the distinct feeling that you’re not alone. The lovely glow of the bonfire is in your field of vision, but it’s so far away. It’s where most of the guys are gathered. You can hear their distant whoops and hollers, reminding you that help is far away too.

A twig snaps, and your suspicions are confirmed. There’s a figure following several feet behind you, lurking in the shadows cast from the trees above.

So, you veer off your original path to draw closer to the homestead where there would hopefully be someone who hadn’t made it to the bonfire yet. Whoever it was must have caught on to what you were doing because they instantly pick up their pace. You begin to hurry, increasing your speed so that they can’t catch you before you make it to what you hope will be a haven of safety.

Your heart is pounding, and your chest heaving with panicked breaths as you finally make it to the homestead.

“Hello?” you call frantically.

Suddenly, Thomas appears. He sees your nervous state immediately, his hand taking yours. But then his eyes lock onto something behind you, and he moves right past you to intercept your pursuer, effectively blocking them from you.

“What’s going on?” he demands. Your follower is frozen to the spot, stuttering, failing miserably to offer up some sort of explanation. Thomas steps forward, towering over the guy. It’s plain to see that he is furious. His forearms flex and his jaw is clenched. You can hear his angry breaths as he speaks again. “That’s what I thought. Now, get out of here.”

As soon as the guy is gone, Thomas turns around to face you. His close presence eases your fearful state when he steps into your space, filling your nose with his scent. “You okay?” he asks gently.

You manage a nod.

“We’re going to tell Alby right away. This isn’t going to happen to you again. Come here…” He carefully pulls you into his arms for an embrace, as if you’ll break apart if he’s too sudden. You bury your face in his chest, breathing a sigh of relief. His heartbeat is close to your ears, like a lullaby.

“Thank you…” you whispered.

. . . Newt . . .

You couldn’t take it anymore.

The teasing, the taunts… The inability of certain individuals to just leave you alone. Ever since you’d rejected him, Allan had made it his life’s mission to make your existence in the Glade all the more difficult.

Most recently, he had purposely bumped into you at lunchtime so that your meal was spilled all over your clothes and onto the ground. Resources were limited in the Glade. It was understood that wastefulness wouldn’t be tolerated. You couldn’t afford to lose food or have clothing ruined. Fortunately, your clothes would be fine after a wash, but the discarded food was a different story.

You dab at your tank top with a washcloth and pause to look at your reflection in the mirror. It was all too easy to recall how quickly you’d reached your limit after Allan’s ridiculous ploy. Your face is still wet from crying, eyes puffy, and lips parted as you took deep breaths.

There’s no use crying over spilled milk, you thought. Or in my case, spilled lunch.

After composing yourself, you decide it’s time to go back out there and face the music. You toss the damp rag aside and march determinedly out of the empty washroom. To your surprise, you smack right into another individual coming in. You instantly recognize the blonde hair and grumbles of complaint as he reels from the collision.

“Oi, shank, watch where you’re going-” Newt quickly realizes it’s you and clamps his mouth shut, extending his hands to each of your shoulders to steady you gently. He takes in the sight of your tear-stained face with his eyes showing clear concern. “Hey, what’s gotten into you?”

“Oh, just… Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Newt looks far from convinced, and you lower your gaze. He’s about to inquire further, but a familiar voice sounds from outside the washroom.

“Hey, _______!” Allan calls tauntingly, making you freeze up. “How’s it going in there?”

Newt’s eyes instantly flash, and his face scrunches up anger. You can hardly believe it when Allan continues.

“Sorry about my clumsiness earlier. Maybe I can make it up to you. Come on out before I go in there!”

Newt can’t contain himself anymore. He turns on his heel and heads out of the washroom, and you follow behind just to see the look on Allan’s face when he realizes he’s been caught.

It is so worth it. Allan’s stupid grin falls hard into a look of horror as the Second-in-Command approaches him furiously. He doesn’t lay a hand on him, but he looks like he’s awfully close when he jabs a pointer finger in his direction.

“If I ever catch you bothering her, or even breathing in her general direction again, you’ll be a permanent Slopper for the rest of your time here in the Glade. Do you understand, shank?”

Allan nods quickly, and doesn’t even wait to be dismissed. He just hurries away, leaving you and Newt both standing there watching him flee.

“Coward,” he mumbles. Then, Newt turns to you, resting a hand on your arm in a comforting gesture. “I mean it, you know. He’ll never bother you again.”

. . . Minho . . .

It’s hard not to panic when you glance up and can no longer see the sun above you. It’s the end of the day, and you’re nearly out of time. The lightning pain that shoots through your ankle suddenly just becomes too much. You lean against one of the ivy-covered walls and exhale.

“I don’t think I’m going to make it,” you say aloud, and the words weigh heavily on you. You mentally scold yourself. You can’t afford to think that way. A Runner knows better. With a wince, you continue limping on your way. It’s not that the exit from the Maze isn’t close. If memory serves you right (which it did), it wasn’t too far at all… but at your pace, it would take a lot of effort and some good luck to get you back in time.

Just when you are about to give up again, you hear footsteps rapidly approaching. Your first thought is that perhaps your cowardly companion had a change of heart, but the footsteps didn’t match.

“Hello?” you call.

“_________!” Minho’s voice responds, and your heart swells with hope. You aren’t out of the woods just yet, but your chances were much better with help. Minho nearly slides to a stop in front of you, instantly taking your arm and putting it around his broad shoulders to help you up. There is no time to stop and compare notes, so you update him as he begins helping you back along the path.

“I sprained my ankle.” You hold onto Minho like he’s your lifeline as you push through the pain to keep up with his pace. He’s right to go so fast. Time is running out.

“Where’s Derek?” he asks with a grunt.

“He…he left me,” you gasp in pain. “I think he was worried he wouldn’t make it out in time if he helped me.”

Minho goes quiet for a moment, and you can practically feel the anger rolling off him in waves. His eyes are focused straight ahead at the path, and he huffs. Finally, he bites out a sarcastic comment. “I think it’s safe to say that he’s getting demoted from being a Runner.”

You keep talking, trying to distract the both of you from the familiar groan of the Maze walls shifting. “Why did you come out here?”

“Because it was getting late in the day, and no one had seen you,” he pants. “Usually, you check in with me right away. I knew something had to be wrong.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

You continue limping with all your might toward the gate, feeling your heart jump, as the walls on either side begin their agonizingly slow crawl to a close. There’s a small group standing on the other side, ushering you both out anxiously. It was mostly Keepers, a select few who had been informed of the problem by Minho.

The two of you fell onto the green grass, gasping for breath, while the others surrounded you. Alby knelt down beside you, resting a hand on your shoulder. You just let yourself breathe, tears welling up in your eyes from relief.

“So it’s true?” Gally questioned, brows raised. “Derek left her in there.” “Yes,” Minho replied, sitting up. “And he will face the consequences.” He looked over at you, finally catching his breath. “You’re safe now.”

. . . Gally . . .

James had been haunting your steps for far too long. He was always there, always hanging around, and sometimes showing up at the most alarming of instances. What could be done about it? It wasn’t as if he’d taken severe enough action to warrant disciplinary measures, you thought. He was only ever seen staring at you, smirking, and just being an all-around jerk at times.

This time, he’d snatched your tools away from your working station while your back was turned. After uncovering a particularly tough old root, you turned around to get a spade to chop it up, only to see that your things were gone.

A few laughs caught your attention, and you glanced over to see James and one of his shadows standing there, staring at you from several feet away. You couldn’t say for certain, but it seemed like they had something to do with your missing tools.

So, now you’re debating with yourself on the best course of action. Do you ignore him and try to rustle up some extra tools from Newt or Zart? Or do you bother to give this shank the attention he’s so desperately seeking to get your stuff back?

You don’t really like the latter option. Frankly, James gives you the creeps. The last thing you want is to play his little game… But every minute that you spend deliberating is wasted time that could be put towards helping the Glade.

As much as you despise indulging him, you find yourself marching right over to his work area. Both James and his minion are laughing in amusement, shoving each other at the sight of you approaching.

“Do you know where my tools went?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I might,” James replies cryptically. “And I might be willing to strike up a bargain for that information.”

You fold your arms across your chest. “What could you possibly want?”

“Ohh, I don’t know…Perhaps a kiss will do.”

You make a face as the disgust hits you. “Seriously?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

“Yeah, that’s going to be a ‘no’ for me.” You wave off the concept, turning around. You decided that your best bet is to find some spare tools. This just wasn’t worth all the trouble. Just as you start to leave, James comes running around to block you.

“Hey now, I didn’t say you could go.”

“Yeah, you might want to think about his offer,” James’ lackey said from behind you. The two of them close in, and you clench your fists in preparation to fight. If you make enough commotion, you’re sure that someone will notice and come to your aid.

You give him one last chance. “Let me pass.”

“Come on, just one kiss. Unless you want more than one after that-” to your relief, James is cut off by a new voice interjecting.

“What’s going on here?” The three of you turn to see Gally standing there, sweating from whatever project he was working on,with dirt and wood shavings on his clothes. His expression looks expectant as he waits for an explanation, though his tall and bulky form makes him appear positively dangerous as he stares the two guys down with his hands resting on his hips.

“I, uh.. We…” They break off in stutters and fumbled words.

“I’m fairly certain they have my tools,” you say, and Gally’s famous arched brows raise at the two guys in disbelief.

“Is that so?” As Gally walks forward, he plants his palms harshly on James’ shoulder, shoving him clear out of the way. James stumbles unceremoniously, almost falling straight into the grass. Gally walks over to the bench and pauses. He picks up a bundle of leather and tosses it to you, the tools rattling inside. “Are those yours?”

You recognize it immediately. “Yes, these are the ones.”

“You shanks had better never even speak to her again. Understand?” He stares at each of them pointedly with all the authority of a Keeper, and they both nod. With that, Gally walks up to you and ushers you away with a warm, gentle hand on your back protectively.

“Your timing was impeccable,” you say quietly. “Thank you.”

“They won’t bother you again. I’ll make sure of it.”

“I think you already have,” you chuckle.

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hp-hcs · 6 months

Text

i didn’t realize the riddle brothers were a "buy one get one free" type of deal, but alright — simp! overprotective! yandere! riddle brothers x gn! oblivious! bullied! slytherin! reader

requested by 🎀!

2.5k words, not to brag 😌

i love writing the bros’ interactions with each other as like, actual sibling-core yk? they r just so cutie patootie

the reader's patronus makes an appearance in this, but i tried to make it as accessible to everyone as possible, so it's never explicitly stated what animal it is. it is implied that it’s able-to-fit-under-a-table sized though

also this is totally just pre-slash nothing that interesting happens

warnings: couple mentions of blood, mild descriptions of wounds, implied violence, implied bullying, murder

not edited!! this is my first like, really long fic so constructive criticism is welcome!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A well-timed shove to the small of your back sent you tumbling down an entire flight of moving stairs.

You groaned as you hit the bottom, sprawled out on your back on the cold stone floor. You laid there for a moment, winded. You could hear the occupants of a nearby painting titter at your gracefulness (or lack thereof), so you rolled your head to the other side to give them an award winning smile and an unabashed middle finger.

You could hear them all grumble about kids these days and how I never would’ve treated my elders this way. You just rolled your eyes at their pettiness.

“Uh…what are you doing?” A decidedly alive voice interrupted your momentary satisfaction.

“Ah- evening, Riddle!” You said cheerily as soon as you recognized the speaker, scrambling to your feet and dusting off your uniform. “Nothing! Just…tripped. Couldn’t see very well in the dark, that’s all.”

Tom blinked, his lips twisted into a frown. “.....Fine. But don’t let me catch you out of bed past curfew again. You’re a Slytherin, for Salazar’s sake. Act like it.”

And that was it. Tom turned on his heel and continued down the hall without another word. Tom Riddle: prefect, teacher’s pet, and obnoxious hardass extraordinaire—he just...let you go, with no threats of detention or loss of house points.

Huh.

~~~

Tom, having just returned from a full night’s shift of prefect hall duty, flopped face-down onto his bed, his cheeks aflame as he let out a muffled shriek into his pillow.

His brother, in the process of getting dressed for the day, paused at the scene in front of him.

“Dude, what’s your deal?”

“L/n,” Tom said by way of explanation, kicking his feet as he shrieked into his pillow again. “They acknowledged me. And they know my last name.”

“Most people know our last name, Tom,” Mattheo rolled his eyes.

“No- you don’t understand,” Tom said emphatically. “L/n is like…the cutest person to ever exist. And they’re so sweet, and smart, and funny, and-”

“And terrified of us?”

“Well…”

Mattheo rolled his eyes, putting his hands on his hips. “You talk about them too much. It’s getting insufferable.”

Tom just scowled and flicked his fingers to cast a wandless spell that straightened Mattheo’s tie and neatened his uniform. “The way you dress is insufferable. Slob.”

Mattheo stuck out his tongue at his brother before ruffling Tom’s hair to purposely mess it up. “Dick.”

“Idiot.”

~~~

Mattheo glanced up at you as you hovered uncertainly by the corner of his desk.

“Can I sit here…?” You mumbled shyly, your cheeks flushing as the pretty dark-haired boy in your year smiled up at you.

“Course!” He grinned brightly before realizing that might have been too enthusiastic of a reply for eight in the morning and quickly tried to cover up his slip. “Uh…Y/n, right? I’m Mattheo.”

“Yeah, I know who you are.”

Mattheo’s stomach dropped.

Fuck, that’s not good.

“You let me copy your homework in third year for that essay on the properties of wormwood, or whatever.” You said offhandedly, like it wasn’t batshit insane to remember that pointlessly tiny detail. “Thank you for that, by the way. Potions sucks ass.”

Before Mattheo could even think, the words left his mouth. “I could tutor you if you want.”

You looked at him oddly, but grinned after a second. “Yeah, sure. That’d actually be really helpful. Snape hates me, man.”

“Really? Even though you’re in Slytherin?”

“Mhm, his baseless nepotism only extends so far.”

Mattheo barked out a startled laugh as your deadpan humor caught him off guard. You just grinned at him in response, causing the tips of his ears to immediately burn bright red.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, ducking his head in embarrassment. “Um…do you wanna meet in the library after school today? For our tutoring session,” Mattheo hurriedly added.

“Sure, alright.” You shrugged. “See you there.”

He beamed, giving you that stupidly adorable grin once more. “Awesome! Yeah- yeah, cool. Awesome. See you there then.”

~~~

You were still shit at potions.

It had been six weeks of tutoring, and you’d learned pretty much nothing. Although, that wasn’t an issue on Mattheo’s part, but rather on his annoyingly hot older brother’s.

Tom Riddle was surprisingly funny. For someone who gave off almost exclusively stoically austere bastard vibes, he enjoyed cracking jokes and enlisting your help in pulling pranks on his brother a bit too much.

It became your routine. Every Tuesday and Thursday after school, you would meet the two brothers in the library, waste like three hours joking around and getting absolutely no work done, and then going back to your dorm and ranting to your roommate about how fucking cute they are and how you would gladly pay for the opportunity to make out with one- no, both of them.

(Your roommate is so fucking tired of hearing about the Riddles. You’d better buy them a latte and a cake-pop as an apology.)

~~~

You struggled to get up, your legs giving out. You cursed under your breath, putting a hand to your forehead as it throbbed in pain.

It came away sticky with blood.

This wasn’t going to work, you realized belatedly. With what remained of your strength, you were able to reach out and grab your wand, murmuring a quiet, “Expecto Patronum.”

A spectral creature formed in front of your eyes, remaining motionless as it stared at you.

“Go find Riddle,” you mumbled to the Patronus, your eyelids growing heavy.

You barely registered the wispy glowing animal immediately bounding off at your instructions, your vision doubling before your body went completely slack, the wand slipping from your fingers and hitting the tile floor with a clatter.

~~~

Mattheo doodled mindlessly in the margins of his parchment as his brother droned on and on about the properties of willow bark in potions and really, this is important, Mattheo. Pay attention.

“Why isn’t Y/n here yet?” Mattheo asked his brother for the third time.

Tom rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, Matt. Just like how I didn't know when you asked me five minutes ago. Maybe they just don’t want to see your stupid face any more, huh?”

“What if they’re in trouble? Or hurt?” Mattheo worried, chewing on his thumbnail and ignoring his brother’s insult. “They’re never late, Tommy.”

Tom wrinkled his nose at the use of the dumb (albeit endearing) nickname Mattheo gave him when they were children, but the sinking feeling in his gut at hearing his brother’s distressed tone didn’t help to ease the niggling worries at the back of his mind of maybe they are in trouble.

As if on cue, Mattheo shivered as something icy cold brushed against his ankles. He glanced down. A glowing spectral creature nudged his leg, looking up at him expectantly with unnervingly empty eyes.

A Patronus.

Y/n’s Patronus.

~~~

They followed the Patronus down the deserted hall, the animal occasionally pausing to make sure the boys were both still following it before bounding forward again.

The Patronus stopped in front of a bathroom door, giving them both that same unnervingly hollow-eyed stare of expectancy.

Tom gulped and pushed open the door, fearing that he might find the worst.

He did.

~~~

Your eyes cracked open slowly, and you winced at the multitude of stinging and stabbing pains that wracked your body.

You had to blink a couple times for everything to come into focus. You were in a small room with white walls and white flooring, and the gentle dawn illuminated the quiet space with soft rays of light. The steady beep of a vitals monitor faded into the background as you stared down at yourself.

You weren’t wearing a shirt, for one, or even a hospital gown. Pretty much your entire upper torso was wrapped in bloodstained gauze. The jagged edges of a brutal slash across your chest peeked out of the top of the dressings, and you had to close your eyes and hold your breath for a moment to keep from throwing up. Once you’d calmed back down, you opened your eyes, startled to see that you weren’t alone.

Mattheo had pulled up a chair to the side of your hospital bed and crossed his arms on the mattress, using them as a makeshift pillow. His dark lashes fanned across his cheeks, his breaths slow and even. He looked so peaceful and...unguarded in his sleep. You reached down to brush a loose curl away from his forehead.

“Having fun?”

You startled, jerking your hand back.

Tom leaned against the doorframe of your room with an amused expression, quirking an eyebrow and wiggling his fingers in a wave.

“Shut up,” you hissed back in a whisper, your cheeks flaring red.

Tom’s amused grin only grew at your dark blush as he invited himself into your room fully, closing the door behind him.

“Your secret’s safe with me.” He jokingly winked, tapping the side of his nose.

“You’re insufferable.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“What am I doing here?” You quickly changed topics, refusing to even look down in Mattheo’s direction.

Tom sighed, any amusement on his face rapidly vanishing. “You sent us a Patronus, thank Merlin. Pomfrey said you would’ve bled out if you hadn’t.”

You had no memory of casting the Patronus charm at all, but you trusted Tom’s recollection of events better than your own jumbled and spotty one. “Bled out?” You questioned, your heart hammering in your throat as your voice climbed an octave in anxiety.

Tom nodded, his face carefully schooled into a blank and neutral expression. “You were hit with the Sectumsempra spell. You've been out for three days now.”

Your brow furrowed. “Malfoy got hit with that last year though—and was in and out of the infirmary in less than a day.”

“Snape knew the counterspell and found ‘im just in time last year,” Mattheo mumbled sleepily, his eyes still closed as he tuned into the conversation at hand. “But whoever hit you with it just left you there to die.”

“Charming.” You mutter under your breath.

“Regardless of what happened in Malfoy’s instance,” Tom interrupted briskly. “You were on the brink of literal death. So I’ll ask you this one time and one time only. Who did it, Y/n?”

~~~

“I brought you a cookie from the Great Hall,” Mattheo grinned widely, climbing into your hospital bed next to you and unwrapping the napkin in his hand. “And the notes from today’s Charms lesson, but those’re boring and we both know you won’t actually read ‘em.”

“Aww, you know me so well.” You teased, breaking the cookie in half and handing him one of the pieces.

Mattheo cupped the cookie fragment in his hands like it was a priceless treasure, staring down at it in unrestrained awe.

You just shook your head at his antics and brushed the odd reaction off.

~~~

You woke up this morning and just felt like shit. You were nauseous, and dizzy, and felt borderline faint. Tom’s voice, usually soothing and comforting to hear, sounded like nails on a chalkboard right now. He rambled on and on about the delicate process of making the temperamental Felix Felicis potion.

“Tom,” you interrupted, your voice scratchy and quiet. “Can we take a break? Please?”

He blinked, surprised at being interrupted, but nodded slowly. “I suppose…? Why?”

“Don’t feel good,” you mumbled, setting your textbook down and rubbing your eyes.

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Madame Pomfrey said brusquely as she bustled around your hospital room, shooing Tom out of the way to stand by your bedside.

(Poppy Pomfrey remains the only person who can and has shooed Tom Riddle III and lived to tell the tale—and all without a single ounce of fear.)

“I’ve raised your dosage so that you can be out of here in time for your N.E.W.T.s.” Pomfrey elaborated upon seeing your confused look.

“Fantastic.” You mumbled dryly, grinning sleepily up at Tom as he grabbed onto your hand and interlaced your fingers together. He ignored the way his heart skipped a beat in favor of letting you hold his sweaty palm.

“Go to sleep, L/n,” Tom muttered under his breath. “Potions can wait.”

~~~

Tom lay in your hospital bed beside you, running his thumb over your knuckles. “Please? We promise we won’t do anything.”

“Yeah,” Mattheo chimed in from the other side of your crowded bed, one arm tossed over your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Or at least, nothing we’ll get caught for.”

You sigh, tired of their ceaseless pleading. “Alright, alright, fine. I’ll tell you who it was.”

Both boys leaned in close.

You sigh again and roll your eyes at their overprotectiveness. “Alright, it was-”

~~~

Tucker Thompson and Devin Dobbs: Gryffindor Sixth Years Found MURDERED at Hogwarts! Dumbledore: “No comment at this time.”

You tilted the newspaper so Madame Pomfrey could read the article over your shoulder as she replaced your IV bag.

Pomfrey just sighed and rolled her eyes. “I don’t understand how Skeeter is still employed at the Prophet.”

“Cause shock value will always hold weight in the media?” You answered dryly around a mouthful of depressingly plain infirmary wing toast. “And Skeeter’s good at nothing if not coming up with bullshit shock value titles.”

“That may be true,” she began, snatching the paper from your hands. “But patients shouldn’t be reading about such dark subjects, and certainly not while under my care. And don’t talk while eating. I rather like your company, and would hate to see you choke.”

You rolled your eyes at her suffocatingly motherly behavior. “So are they? Thompson and Dobbs; they’re really dead?”

Madame Pomfrey hesitated.

You let out a relieved breath of air that you tried (and failed) to hide behind a cough. “That’s…terrible.”

She narrowed her eyes and studied you for a long moment, her fingers mindlessly worrying the deckle edge of the newspaper in her hands. “It was them, wasn’t it? Your boys.”

“My boys?”

“Yes, yes, Riddles one and two. Your boys.”

“Oh- we’re not…”

She raised an eyebrow, pursing her lips as she tried to hold back a laugh at the utter obliviousness of teenagers. “Do they know that, dear?”

You spluttered out a half-assed rebuke to her statement, but Pomfrey quickly interrupted you.

“They’ve been staying here for hours every day for the last month. They want more than just your friendship, hon.”

“No way. We’re just friends.” You insisted firmly. “That’s all.”

Madame Pomfrey rolled her eyes. “Uh huh. Friends. Keep telling yourself that.”

You stared after her, open-mouthed in bafflement, as she rolled up the Prophet, tucked it under her arm, and turned around without another word—leaving you with zero reading material and a million questions.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

you have to love how pomfrey could not give less of a fuck that the riddles murdered two students as long as she gets her ot3 absolutely iconic behavior

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