Cell Mates

THE FINN WOLFHARD HYPE IS COMING BACK AND OH EM GEE YALL DONT KNOW THE HOLD THAT MAN HAS ON ME HES BEEN MY OBSESSION SINCE 2016 I LOVE HIM SO MUCH 😭😭😭😭😭

i fear i have stuff i cannot say due to digital footprint

New

Hi! so i’m new at this, and I don’t think i’m gonna be able to reach a lot of people, but I really wanted to start writing, I will write for spider-verse characters for the moment, specially Miguel O’Hara and earth-42 Miles, since im a native Spanish speaker and those are the easiest for me, I will be accepting requests! that’s it for today!

hiii !! i’m not really sure if you usually add people on the taglist through here but i was hoping i could please be added to your suna happier than ever smau taglist! thank you so much 😭

hello!! ofcc adding u rn

The Hero's Mission

Request:  None

Requested By:  Nobody

Prompt: “You're the hero, huh? I guess that makes me the villain."

Pairing:  Tom Riddle x Gryffindor!OC/reader

Summary:  The death of The Boy Who Lived requires the need of the Time Turner to change Tom Riddle for the better, saving dozens in the process. A Gryffindor has a different plan in mind, however.

Warnings:  mentions of death and murder

A/N:  Sorry for the wordcount. Not sorry for the Tom Riddle.

Word Count:  13K+

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He really did it.

Voldemort killed Harry Potter.

The world seemed to have screeched to a halt, everyone staring in disbelief at the dead boy.

The Dark Lord cackled.  “I’ve done it!  I killed The Boy Who Lived!”

Red flooded my vision.  I pulled out my wand, marching forward.  Just as I raised it to cast a spell, my arm was grabbed and I was dragged back into the castle.  I fought against it, turning to point my wand at whoever had a hold of me.

My eyes widened and I stopped.  “Professor McGonagall,” I breathed out quietly.

“Albus only wanted this used if absolutely necessary, but I believe this is the only way,” she said, letting go of me and reaching into her robe.

I blinked at her in confusion.  “Professor?”

She pulled out a chain, a tiny sand-timer dangling from the bottom.  Looping it around my neck, she looked me in the eyes.  “This is a Time Turner, allowing you to travel back in time.  You’ll need to return to the year 1945,” she told me.  “There is a young man there by the name of Tom Riddle.”  She looked back to where the battle had taken place, the sound increasing.  “He will become Lord Voldemort.”  Her gaze turned back to me, holding a shine of sternness, as well as concern.  “You need to go back and change him for the better.  It will save many lives.”

“Professor, I can’t-”

“You must, Miss King.  There are no other options.”

“But why me, Professor?”

She regarded me for a few moments.  “You will know, dear.”  Her eyes dropped to the time turner.  “The protection charm around that has been taken off, allowing you to go back more than five hours.  Take it and turn it backwards fifty times.  That should take you back to the right year.”

The noise got louder.

The Headmistress turned to me.  “Hurry, dear.”

I nodded, grabbing the time turner.  I began to spin it, counting up to fifty.  Once done, I looked up, staring at the castle wall in front of me.

It was similar to the wall I had been in front of before, though this wall was intact and clearly newer.  It possessed less scratches and burn marks.

Students walked past me and I quickly realized I stood out like a sore thumb.

Muttering a quiet “multicorfors” I waved my wand over my garments, making them look appropriate to the time period.  I stuffed my wand back in my robe, looking around.

Where to start?

A group of students walked by me.

I quietly slipped into step a few paces behind them, looking around casually in an attempt to not seem like I was obviously following them.

They unknowingly led me into the Great Hall, sitting down at their tables.

I stopped in the doorway, looking around for the Gryffindor table.  Spotting students wearing red ties, I strode over, trying not to seem suspicious.  Sitting down, my gaze raked over the room.

The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were behind me, the Slytherin table in front.

I scanned the Slytherin table for anyone that looked suspicious or evil.

Finding nothing out of the ordinary, I frowned, about to pause my search to eat, when my eyes landed on a boy seated amongst the Slytherins.

He was sitting up straight, talking with the people around him.  He had a lean figure, dark hair that fell over his forehead on one side and features that looked- at least from where I was sitting- like the perfect blend of soft and hard.

I stared at the boy for a few moments, completely sucked into his demeanor and appearance.

He was talking to the people around him, looking at one of his housemates.  His expression shifted slightly and he lifted his eyes, his focus landing almost instantly on me.

“-looking at?”

I whipped my head to the side to face the girl sitting next to me, grateful for the interruption.  My cheeks coloured slightly, no matter how much I tried to fight it.  “Me?  Nothing, I was just-” my eyes, quite without me telling them to, drifted back to the Slytherin table for only a fraction of a second.

They didn’t even have enough time to focus on anything.

“I have an idea…” one of the girls, sitting across from the other, said.  She smirked as she stabbed something with her fork.

“What?”  I recoiled.  “I was just getting used to my surroundings,” I said.

It was technically half true.

“I thought I didn’t recognize you,” the other girl said.  “Are you new to Hogwarts?”

I paused.  “Yeah.”

“What year are you,” she questioned.

“Seventh year.”

“It is a bit unusual for someone to join Hogwarts so late in their schooling,” the other said.

I cleared my throat.  “Well, I was transferred from a different school…..” I trailed off before quickly introducing myself.

“Nice to meet you, King.  My name is Margaret,” the girl sitting diagonally from me spoke.  She nodded her head to the girl sitting next to me.  “This is Joan.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Joan greeted.

I nodded.  “The pleasure is mine.”

“Class will be starting soon…” Margaret informed.  “Do you have your books?”

I faltered.  “Uh…no, I-I don’t.”

“You can borrow ours,” Joan assured.  She nodded her head at the brunette across from her.  “Margaret and I always sit next to each other.  You could sit with one of us, if you wish.”

My eyebrows furrowed.  “How many students can sit at a desk?”

“Two.”

I turned my head to Margaret.

She went on.  “You can sit with Joan.  I will find another seat.”

“Oh!  No- I can’t.”  I lifted my hands.  “I would hate to split you two up.”  I shifted my gaze between them.  “Is there an empty desk behind you?”

“There is.”

“Then I’ll sit there.”  I shrugged.  “No worries.”

They gave me confused looks.

I frowned.  “What’s wrong?”

“You…” Margaret trailed off.

“You say things in a most unusual way, King,” Joan said.

I pursed my lips.

Oh yeah.

“I… apologize,” I said, though it sounded more like a question.

They smiled.

“Come.  Let’s head to class.”

I followed their lead, standing with them.

A lot of other students were rising to their feet as well, presumably also heading to their classes.

My gaze drifted once again to the Slytherin table, seeing the boy already standing, scanning the crowd.

His eyes met mine again.

I quickly snapped my head back towards my classmates, wincing slightly at the pain my neck had received for it.  Following their lead, I stubbornly kept my gaze intentional, only allowing it to drift to the halls of the school, so familiar and yet so strange.

“Our first class is Potions,” Margaret informed.

I grimaced behind her back, quickly wiping the expression away when Joan turned around to face me.

“It is taught by Professor Slughorn,” she added.

I nodded, taking in the information.

The girls pushed the door open, stepping through.

“We usually sit here,” Margaret informed, gesturing at a desk in the middle of the room.  She turned to me.  “Are you certain you would not prefer to sit with one of us?”

I nodded.  “Positive.  I’ll just sit behind you.”

“Here.”  Joan reached into her bag, pulling out a book and handing it to me.  “Use this.  Margaret and I will share.”

I accepted the thick book, making a mental note of the fact that Potions textbooks seemed to stay about the same size, even decades apart.  “Thank you.”  Sitting down behind them, I placed the book on the desk before leaning forward.  “What page are we on?”

“Three-hundred forty seven,” Margaret whispered back.

I thanked her, turning to the correct page, guessing that the book was probably close to seven hundred pages.  Looking up, I noted that this class period was shared with the Slytherin house.

Once everyone was seated, Slughorn started speaking.

“We are picking up from where we left off last time.”  His gaze raked across the classroom.  “Chapter-” he paused, his eyes landing on me.  A confused expression formed on his face.

I did my best to keep sitting tall, my leg bouncing anxiously.

“Do we have a new student?”

All eyes in the classroom turned to face me.

I held my head high, determined to not cower under the weight.  I kept my eyes locked onto the man at the front of the class.  “Yes, Professor.”

He hummed.  “Curious.  I was not informed we would be getting a new student.”

“A mere mistake I’m sure, Professor.”

“Most likely.  What is your name, then?”

I introduced myself, eyes unintentionally shifting downwards slightly towards the dark haired boy seated at the front of the class.

He, like everyone else, was already looking at me.

I quickly raised my eyes to Professor Slughorn again.

“-sit with Miss King for her first lesson?  In case she needs any help?”

The boy turned to his teacher.  “Of course, Professor.”

With abject horror, I watched as the boy collected his things, walked towards the back of the classroom, and sat next to me.

I looked back to the front of the class.  “Professor, this really isn’t necessary-”

“The Head Boy will willingly assist you if needed, Miss King,” Slughorn said.  “If you get along well on your own, should he so choose, he may return to his own seat.”

I held in a sigh.  “Yes, Professor.”

“Good.”  He turned his back to the class to look at the chalkboard behind him.  “As we were talking about in the last class…”

I ran a hand through my hair, reaching for my quill to start to take notes.  My hand closed around nothing and I lifted my eyes to look at where my quill was supposed to be, only to get a foul reminder.

I wasn’t where- or rather when- I was supposed to be.

I had no supplies.

Deciding I would rather try to memorize what Slughorn was saying instead of asking the boy next to me for anything, I folded my right arm on the desk in front of me, staring towards the front of the class.

“You might want these, Miss King.”

I turned to the soft noise on my right.

Merlin, even his voice was lovely.

At closer proximity, I could better make out his features, greedily noting that everything- his eyebrows, lips, nose- were perfect.

His dark green eyes were staring down at me, shifting between my own.

Before I stared too long I- with some effort- pulled my gaze away from him to look at the parchment and quill he had slid towards me.

My eyes widened slightly.

“It seems, Miss King…” he trailed off and I could hear the smirk in his voice, “it was good luck that I was sent to sit next to you.”

I lifted my head to look at him.

He was, indeed, smirking.  His green eyes shone with kindness and just a hint of mischief.

“Thank you,” I said, grasping the quill and beginning to write as I tried to focus on what Slughorn was saying.

Merlin, that didn’t stop my leg from bouncing, though.

~~~~~~~~~

Class ended and I stood, handing the quill back to the Head Boy.

He looked up at me, still sitting, his gaze dropping to the object.

“Thank you for allowing me to use your quill,” I said, holding my notes at my side.

The boy lifted his gaze to meet my eyes.  “You may keep it,” he said as he stood, forcing me to now look up at his tall frame in order to meet his eyes.  He slung his bag around his shoulder.  “I have more.”

I nodded once.  “Thank you.”

The corner of his mouth pulled upwards.  “You are welcome, Miss King.”

“Come on, King,” Joan said, grabbing my arm.  “Our next class is this way.”

I gave one last look at the Head Boy, nodding my head again to signal a ‘farewell’ and a ‘thank you’ before allowing myself to be led out of the classroom.

~~~~~~~~~~

“This is Transfiguration, taught by Professor Dumbledore.”

I faltered in my steps, stopping in the hallway.

Professor Dumbledore.

It had been so long-

“...you alright, King?”

I blinked back into reality, looking over at Margaret and Joan’s concerned faces.  “Uh, sorry.”  I offered them a crooked grin.  “Go on; what were you saying?”

They talked, but I didn’t listen.  As we strode into Transfiguration class, my eyes instantly made their way to the front of the room.

A man was sitting behind a desk.  He had long white hair and a very welcome face.

“Professor Dumbledore,” I breathed out, relieved to see someone familiar.

To see the man that had been killed.

“Yes, that’s him,” Joan said.

“Here is the book for this class.”  Margaret handed me a textbook, which I accepted, though not really paying attention.

“Thanks,” I managed to get out before sitting in the only open seat; next to a Ravenclaw.  My eyes stayed locked onto the Professor as he began teaching.

~~~~~~~~~~

“And this is the Common Room,” Margaret said, leading me through the portrait of the Fat Lady.

I smiled slightly at the familiar face before being pulled in.

The room, though possessing some similarities to the Common Room in my own time, had notable differences.

The arrangements of the furniture were different, the furniture having a far older style than what I was used to.

“It’s very nice,” I said, observing the room.

“Our rooms are up these stairs,” Joan said, gesturing.  “Do not attempt to go up the stairs to the boys’ dormitories.  They are charmed.”

I nodded.  “It was the same way at…” I paused, “my other school.”

Margaret turned to face me.  “Where were you before you transferred?”

“Uhh…it was very similar to this, but it was a small school,” I bluffed.  “You probably wouldn’t have even heard of it.”

They nodded, satisfied.

I let out a small breath of relief as they began to move around the room, introducing me to my other housemates.  I greeted them all, smiling.

“Follow us,” Joan said, walking towards the stairs.  “We will see if we can find your room.”

“Did Headmaster Dippet say which dormitory was yours,” Margaret asked.

I froze, eyes wide.  “No…no, he didn’t.”

“Oh dear.  This may be a problem.”

“I can go ask him,” I said, realizing that I had yet to officially announce my…transference, anyway.

“We will go with you.”

“No!”  I shot my hand out before quickly retracting it and lowering my voice.  “No, it’s okay.  It’s getting late, and I don’t want you out past curfew.”

“But do you know the way,” Margaret questioned.

Assuming Dippet’s office was in the same location Dumbledore’s was, I nodded.  “I’m sure I’ll find it.”  I began backing up towards the door.  “If I’m not back before you girls go to bed, have a goodnight!”

“You as well,” they said, waving.

I turned, exiting the Common Room.

Alright.  Time to find Dippet’s office.

I began walking through the castle, making mental notes of the differences and similarities between this Hogwarts and mine.  As the duration of my walk lengthened, I began to wonder why I was even doing this.

I didn’t need to sign in to Hogwarts.  I didn’t need to take notes in class.  And I certainly didn’t need to start forming attachments to young men.

I didn’t have time to be distracted, no matter how gorgeous that distraction happened to be.

I had one job to do.

I had to find Tom Riddle.

I had to kill him.

“Miss King.”

I jumped at the sound of the voice, whipping around.  I couldn’t make out who was approaching me, since the castle was getting dark as evening came upon it.  Pulling out my wand, I held it out in front of me.  “Lumos.”

A light shone at the end of my wand, illuminating the boy that stopped in front of me.

My eyes widened.  “Merlin,” I breathed out.

It would be him.

The Head Boy raised an eyebrow, cocking his head.  “Curfew has begun, Miss King.  I do not wish to take points away from you on your first day, but-”

“I’m sorry,” I interrupted.

He closed his mouth, looking over at me.

I could see a flicker of surprise, and possibly annoyance, in his eyes at being cut off.  “I was just on my way to see Headmaster Dippet,” I explained.

The Head Boy’s expression shifted, becoming more curious.  “Oh?”

“I realized he never told me which dorm was mine,” I said.

The boy didn’t need to know that I hadn’t actually been accepted into Hogwarts yet.

That would have been very suspicious.

“I see.”

A beat of silence passed between us.

“Then let me escort you.  If any other Prefects find you alone, you likely will lose points.”

I nodded.  “Thank you.”

The Head Boy pulled out his wand and flicked his wrist slightly, a light appearing on the end of it.

My eyes widened.  I hadn’t heard him cast ‘lumos’.

The boy gestured and began walking.

I fell into place beside him, increasing the speed of my steps to keep up with his longer strides.

We walked in silence for a few minutes before the boy broke it.

“Why have you transferred to Hogwarts so late in your wizarding career,” he questioned.

“I have a job to do,” I replied without thinking.  My eyes widened as soon as the words were out of my mouth.

He turned to look down at me, regarding me curiously.  “What is the nature of your job?”

I floundered for a realistic response.  “My parents just thought that the school I was previously at wasn’t preparing me well enough for a career.”

“A career?”  The boy was silent for a moment.  “Most witches your age hope for marriage out of school.  There are few who wish to work.”

“Well…” I pursed my lips.  “I guess I’m one of the few.”

The boy hummed.  “We’re here,” he said.  He turned to look at the gargoyle.  “Strawberries.”

The gargoyle spun, revealing the staircase.

I looked over at the Slytherin.  “Thank you.”

“I’ll wait until you’re done.”

“That’s really not necessary-”

He smirked.  “So you keep saying.  But as I said, if you want to avoid losing points, I will need to accompany you.”

I looked at him for a few moments before nodding, heading up the stairs.  Once at the top I looked around, noting that the office was very similar to Dumbledore’s.  “Headmaster Dippet,” I called out.

A man with long white hair and a short white beard and mustache emerged from behind a pile of books.  His eyebrows furrowed.  “Yes?”

“My name is King, sir,” I said.  “I was transferred to Hogwarts today.”

The Headmaster sat down at his desk.  “It is very late in the day to be transferring, Miss King.”

I swallowed nervously.  “It was a late decision, sir.”

He raised an eyebrow.  “Very well.”  Pulling out a quill and parchment, he asked “what are your parents’ names, dear?”

I froze, trying to remember the names of my great grandparents.  “Edward and Dorothy King, sir.”

He nodded, writing the names down.  “What school did you transfer from?”

I listed the first school that came to mind.  “Beauxbatons, sir.”

He nodded again, writing some more.  “That’s a good school.  Why did you transfer?”

I fisted my robe sleeves as my leg began to bounce.  “My parents thought I would be more suited here.”

He looked up at me, saying nothing.

I pursed my lips.  “Professor?”

Reaching into his desk, he pulled out more papers.  “I see you have already been sorted into Gryffindor…”

“Professor Dumbledore, sir,” I said.  “He saw me earlier…”

The headmaster hummed.  “He made no mention of it to me.”

“Probably just an oversight, sir,” I said quickly, beginning to sweat.

Merlin, who knew trying not to be caught in time travel would be so difficult?

“Probably.  Very well, Miss King.”  He reached over his desk, handing me a piece of paper.  “This is your dormitory room.”  He stepped around the desk, leading me back down the stairs.  “I will show you to the Common Room-”

“There’s no need for that, Headmaster.”

We both turned to the voice, seeing the Head Boy standing right where I had left him: in the middle of the hallway.

“I already volunteered to take Miss King back.”

“Ah, Mister Riddle,” Dippet said, clearly pleased.  “Excellent.”

My eyes widened and I nearly choked on my own saliva.  All the blood drained from my face and my heart began to beat erratically in my chest.

Dippet placed his hand on my back and shoved me gently towards the tall boy.

I simply stared up at him, at a complete loss for words.

There was no way-

“Hurry along, Mister Riddle,” Dippet encouraged.  “I’m sure Miss King would like to go to bed at a reasonable hour,” he said, smiling before turning back towards his office.

“Goodnight, Headmaster,” the boy- Riddle- said.

“Goodnight, children.”

Once the gargoyle closed, the boy looked down to meet my gaze.

I didn’t think I had moved in the last two minutes.

Let alone breathed.

“Are you ready, Miss King?”

I finally blinked.  “Riddle?”

He stared at me, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.  “Yes.”

I opened my mouth again, my voice wavering.  “Tom Riddle?”

His eyebrows furrowed further.  “Yes.”  He looked at me curiously.  “Why?”

“I…” I trailed off.

What was there to say?

The silence stretched on and he narrowed his eyes at me.

I blinked at him.

His eyes widened and he leaned back slightly, standing up taller than he had been before.  “You’re the hero, huh?  I guess that makes me the villain.”  He lowered his head, stepping further into my space.

I took an instinctive step backwards.  “You should already know you’re the villain,” I muttered, amazed that I was able to speak, let alone say something so bold in my current state.

“You’ve come to kill me,” he whispered.  “Tell me…where…exactly…are you from?”

I took another step back.

“If you don’t tell me, I can still get the information,” he insisted darkly.

“Stay out of my head,” I warned, with more strength than I felt.

“Everything alright here?”

Tom and I turned towards the voice, seeing two Prefects standing in the hallway.

Tom turned his body mostly towards them, moving away from my space and returning to his full height.  “I was escorting Miss King back to her Common Room.  She just got her dormitory direction from Headmaster Dippet,” he explained casually.

My eyes widened in horror at the speed in which he effortlessly swapped personalities.

“Very well,” one of the Prefects said.

“Enjoy your trip,” the other said with a wave as they walked away to continue their routes.

When they were out of sight I broke into a full sprint down the hallway.

I had no plan.  My body was moving purely on instinct.

Where could I go that would be safe?

I didn’t have time to think.

He could easily catch up.

Running through the halls, I turned a corner and was promptly whipped backwards.  I fell into a chest, trying to rip my arm free of the hand that held it.

Tom’s long fingers and firm hold were making it difficult to break his grip.

“Let go of me!”

Tom lowered his head.  “Be quiet.”

“No!”  I went to reach for my wand, but Tom’s other hand shot forward, fingers wrapping around my wrist and keeping both of my arms in his hold.  I struggled against him, but it was no use.

“Why are you here to kill me,” Tom demanded.

I continued pulling against him.

“Answer me, witch!”  His eyes flashed red, his face contorting into one of anger.

I froze, chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath.  My wrists hurt and my body was tired from fighting against his hold.  “Because you’re a monster,” I spat.  “Because in my time you’ve killed countless people,” I panted, glaring up at him.  “Because I have to stop you.”

Tom said nothing for several moments, studying me closely.

I defiantly met his eyes, knowing he could use Legilimency if he wished.  He already knew half of it, anyway.

“Am I the most powerful wizard in your time?”

I glared.  “No.”

“Who is,” he demanded, his hold on my wrists tightening.

I lifted my chin, looking at him proudly.  “Dumbledore.”

Rage flashed across Tom’s face.  “Impossible.”

“It isn’t.”  I stared at him, unwavering, even though I felt like my heart was being squeezed.  “You’re going to lose…Voldemort.”

He stared at me, his chest rising and falling harder and faster than it had been.

Then he smirked, an aura of confidence washing over him.

“If I am truly going to lose, why did you come back in time to stop me?”

“To try to reduce the number of deaths,” I half-bluffed.  “Just because you get defeated in my time doesn’t mean we should let you get away with all those murders.”  I glared at him.  “I know I’m too late to prevent the deaths of Myrtle, some of the other students around here, and even others, but what I can try to stop, I will.”

“So you’ve come to kill me.”  Tom raised an eyebrow.  “Did you really think you would be able to?”

“That wasn’t my mission.”  My eyes narrowed at him.  “It was just the one I chose.”  Reeling my leg back, I swung it forward, kicking him in the shin.

He doubled over.

I kneed him in the nose.

He let out a yell as blood began to run down to his chin, his hands loosening enough in surprise that I managed to wiggle one of mine free.

Grabbing my wand as fast as possible, I aimed it at him.  “Stupefy!”

He shot backwards, back colliding with the castle wall before he hit the ground.

Walking over and rolling him onto his back, I held my wand as his throat.  I looked at him, his unconscious body laying on the floor.

Kill him.  Do it.

My grip on my wand tightened.  Foolishly, my eyes raked across his softened features.

Even as blood trickled from his nose, I couldn’t help but think the annoying thought that he was breathtaking.

The two sides of my brain fought each other.

Now’s your chance!  It would be such a pity to destroy something so beautiful.  Avenge all he’s done!

I ground my teeth together, hand shaking as I pointed my wand at him.

Save the world!  Save your friends!

Don’t destroy him!  Do what you were told to do!

End it!

Do the right thing!

Ending him is the right thing!  Stop him from causing harm to others!

Murder is never right!  Change him to become a better person!

You can’t change him!  He’s too far gone!

You don’t know that!

I let out a yell, jerking my arm towards the wall alongside Riddle.

A flash of light emerged from my wand and struck the stone.

Parts of it crumbled, falling alongside the unconscious boy.

I stared down at him for a few moments, heaving breaths.

I had to go.

He could wake up at any moment.

Giving him one final glance I ran towards the Common Room and didn’t look back.

Announcing the password I rushed in, sprinting up to my dorm.  Opening the door as quietly as I could, I sped in, hurrying onto my bed.  I sat on it, hugging my knees to my chest as I stared at the door.

I couldn’t afford to sleep.

He might come for me.

~~~~~~~~

I shakily made my way to breakfast the next morning, creeping around every corner to make sure Tom wasn’t there.  I sat down at the Gryffindor table, only a few students in the Great Hall this early.  Having had no sleep, I decided I would at least get something to eat and try to work through my thoughts.

Now that I hadn’t killed Riddle, what was my next plan?

Should I try again to kill him?  He would definitely be watching me, now.  He knew that I knew.

Should I try to convert him?  Easier said than done.  He’s already committed crimes, and I already attacked him.

Merlin, what did I get myself into?  Why didn’t I just kill him when I had the chance?

No, I scolded myself.  You did the right thing.

Even if it was for selfish, and admittedly, stupid reasons.

Alright.  Tom Riddle was alive.  I allowed Voldemort to live.

I could only hope I wouldn’t come to regret it.

In my time, the situation couldn’t get much worse anyway, so what the heck?  Might as well see where this takes me.

I pushed the eggs on my plate around with my fork, being hungry and yet not possessing an appetite.

“Miss King.”

My head shot up, gaze locking onto a pair of green eyes.

“Riddle,” I greeted coldly, my throat tight.  “How’s your nose?”

He glared as he sat down across from me.  Ignoring my question, a smirk formed on his face as his gaze scanned me.  “Did you sleep in your uniform, King?”

I frowned, mentally cursing myself for forgetting to cast a glamor charm.  My clothes were quite wrinkled.  “I didn’t sleep, actually.”

“Is that so?”  A crooked grin formed on his face.  “And why is that?”

I lifted my gaze to meet his eyes.  “You’ve killed for less.”  I left it at that, knowing he understood the subtext.

He hummed.

I raised an eyebrow.  “Why are you here?”

“For information.”

I let go of my fork, letting it clatter slightly as it connected with my plate, and crossed my arms.  “About what?”

“My future.”  He inclined his head towards me slightly.  “You.”

“There’s not much to tell.”

“Oh, I think there is.”  He leaned forward, lowering his voice.  “If you came to kill me, why did you not do so last night?  I was unconscious…” he trailed off, sitting more upright.  “You had the opportunity.”

I regarded him silently.

What was the best way to respond?

I was never very good at figuring out what to say in delicate matters like this.

It was made even worse by the fact that what I said could drastically impact the lives of countless people, myself included.

“I couldn’t,” I finally said.

Tom raised an inquisitive eyebrow and sat up even straighter.

He clearly had not been expecting that.

“And why not?”

I looked towards the doors of the Great Hall to avoid him using Legilimency on me again.

I did not want him using anything to his advantage.

“I somehow managed to convince myself that you were capable of saving.”  I allowed myself to look back at him.  “That you were worth saving.”

He stared at me silently, keeping his expression very guarded.

“You’re a very bright wizard, Tom,” I said.  “Powerful, too.  In the right place, you could do great things.”

“I will do great things,” he insisted.

“You will do impressive things,” I corrected.  “But they will be evil.”  I sat up straighter.  “For your own selfish end.”

His eyes briefly flashed red and I saw his face twitch as he tried to control his expression.  “It’s natural for me to look out for my own interest,” he said, voice slightly tense.

“At the cost of everyone else?”  I rolled my eyes.  “How typically Slytherin.”

His eyes narrowed.  “And I suppose it’s very Gryffindor to run headfirst into something without actually planning it out.”  He scoffed.  “Is it also a Gryffindor trait to retreat out of their task so foolishly when their opponent was helpless before them?”

I felt my anger boiling up.  “I spared your life!”  I whisper-yelled, conscious enough of the few other students in the room.  “The noble thing to do.”

“Because you are so focused on being noble, aren’t you?”

“I don’t send giant snakes to do my killing for me, you miserable boy,” I hissed.

“They weren’t worth my time.”

I slammed my hands on the table, pushing myself to my feet in a hurry as I glared daggers down at him.  “I should have done the job!”

Riddle stood as well, towering over me as he snarled back.  “If you had any brains, you would have!”

The room fell completely silent.

My chest took in air at an irregular rate, and I noticed Riddle’s breathing was also unusual.

We refused to look away from each other.

“Your ‘perfect boy’ image is slipping, Riddle,” I whispered, raising my eyebrow challengingly.  “Tread lightly.”

“I was about to give you the same warning.”  His eyes narrowed and he leaned closer.  “You do not want to make an enemy of me, King.”

I met his eyes, a determination and fury flowing through me.  “You were my enemy before I got here.”

Tom’s jaw clenched.  

The doors to the Great Hall opened, students beginning to flood in.

Riddle cast me one last glance before turning and making his way over to the Slytherin table.

I let out a relieved breath, plopping back down on the bench.  I watched Tom as he sat down, being joined by his housemates.

They all talked animatedly around him, but Tom seemed…distracted.

“Hello, King.”

I turned, seeing Margaret and Joan.  “Good morning.”  The words sounded tense, bordering on rude, to my own ears.

Margaret followed my previous line of sight.  “Looking at the Head Boy again?”  A teasing smile formed on her face.

I crossed my arms, scowling.  “I resent that.”

“Hopefully she’s studying the enemy.”  Joan turned to me.  “You had better be coming up with ways to win the House Cup this year,” she remarked.  “Slytherin’s won the past several years because of that boy,” she said, nodding towards Tom.  “Everyone loves him.”

I looked back over towards the dark haired boy.  “How... lovely,” I sneered.

The girls shared a look.

“Did you manage to find your dormitory alright,” Margaret asked.  “We never saw you.”

The blood began draining from my face as the memories from last night came back.  “Yeah.  It’s not with you two, though.  By the time I got back from Headmaster Dippet’s office, everyone was already in bed, and I got up early.”

At the sound of a few claps I turned my head to the right to see the Headmaster trying to get everyone’s attention.

I thanked Merlin for the distraction.

“Good morning, students,” he greeted.  “Normally I don’t want to interrupt your breakfast, but I believe some point adjustments need to be made.”

My eyebrows furrowed.

“Last night one of the Prefects found Tom Riddle with some injuries,” he began.

All of the color drained from my face and my blood ran cold.

“Our Head Boy was walking back our newest student,” he gestured at me, announcing my name.

I felt faint as all eyes turned to me.

“Riddle has brought it to my attention that when he was walking Miss King back to her Common Room, a troll attacked them, injuring Tom and breaking the wall.”

I was certain the astonishment on my face was evident.  Eyes wide and eyebrows to my hairline, I stared at the Headmaster in bewilderment.

“The Head Boy is certain that Miss King chased the troll out of the school while he was indisposed, saving everyone.”  Dippet smiled.  “For her bravery on her first evening at Hogwarts, saving the Head Boy and the rest of the school, I award Miss King with fifty points.”  He began clapping, everyone else following his lead.

I whipped my head around to look at Riddle, the only one besides myself not clapping, meeting his eyes in confusion.

“I needed to give them some reason for my state you so rudely put me in,” a voice in my head said.

The voice was proper, smooth, yet stern, and so clearly Riddle’s.

I ignored the clapping, keeping my focus on the Slytherin.  Why didn’t you tell them the truth?

“If I had told them the truth, I would have had to tell them why you attacked me, wouldn’t I?  I could have lied, saying you simply lost your temper or felt that I threatened you, but questions about me would arise, wondering what I would have done to warrant such a response from you.”  Tom sat up straighter in his seat, arching an eyebrow as he kept his eyes locked onto mine.  “You pose no threat to me.  You can’t tell anyone what you know without sounding like a deranged lunatic, especially after being here for only a day.”

I struggled to think of an appropriate response.

A hand on my back and a voice right by my ear had my head turning to my left, seeing Joan and Margaret smiling at me.

The connection between Riddle was broken, a sharp twinge in my head causing me to wince slightly.

“Why did you not tell us?”  Margaret asked excitedly.

“I…” I trailed off.  Looking down at my plate I hesitantly lifted a forkful of eggs into my mouth to buy me some time while I thought.  I forced down a gag at the unwanted food.  “I didn’t think it was important information,” I offered weakly with a shrug.

“It’s most definitely important,” Margaret insisted.  “You saved the Head Boy.”

I grimaced at the thought, looking back down at my plate.

“The entire school,” Joan corrected, eyeing her friend.

Margaret looked over to the dark haired girl.  “Well, obviously, but the Head Boy was more immediate.”

I lifted my gaze, keeping my head down, to look at the Slytherin table.

Tom was staring in silence at his own plate.  Unlike my shuffling of the food on mine, he simply looked down at his, his arms crossed and resting on the table.

What was he thinking about?

Was he thinking of killing me?  Would he decide to kill Dumbledore, since I told him that he was the most powerful wizard in my time?  Was he plotting a murder of someone else?  Was he actually thinking of changing?

I put my elbow on the table, holding my forehead in my hand.

Merlin, this was too much.

“Are you well, King?”

I turned to the girls.  “Just a headache,” I excused.

Technically, one was beginning to form at the number of questions and stress of it all.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Margaret said.

“Hopefully it goes away soon,” Joan remarked.  “Potions will be starting in only a little while.”

I groaned.  Here I was, supposed to save the Wizarding World, needing to attend class.

As if I needed more problems in my life right now.

Rubbing my forehead, I sat back up and ate a little more.

Did I want it?  No.

Was I going to regret not eating?  Yes.

Managing to get through half of my breakfast, I stood with everyone, making our way to Potions.  As I took my seat, accepting Joan’s book, I made a mental note to buy some textbooks since, apparently, I would be here for a while.  Flipping to the page we left on last time, I went to pull out some paper to take notes on, but paused.

I mentally added parchment to my shopping list.

The noise in the room got louder as more students filed in, taking their seats.

At the sense of someone sitting beside me, I turned, eyes widening at the figure there.

Oh, yeah.

I had been so concerned about avoiding Tom Riddle’s possibly murderous intentions I had forgotten that he sat next to me in Potions.

Though, I did recall that he didn’t have to.

“Miss King,” he greeted, passing me more parchment as he kept his eyes toward the front of the class.  His gaze remained there, even as he asked “do you still have the quill I gave you?”  He finally turned to look at me.

I nodded.

He turned his attention to Professor Slughorn as the man began writing on the board.

My eyebrows furrowed.  I leaned towards him slightly.  “What are you doing?”

He glanced at me.  “Preparing for class.”

I rolled my eyes.  “I meant sitting here.”

He smirked.  “Only to keep up pretenses, Miss King,” he insisted quietly.  “It casts a good image for the Head Boy to assist the newest student.”

I scoffed, sitting upright again and turning back to my own book.  My eyes roamed the page, pretending to be interested in the words.  “Everything’s all about pretenses with you,” I mumbled.

I didn’t bother looking at his reaction.

~~~~~~~~~

I made my way into Hogsmeade, treading the streets slowly.

Merlin, I really had no idea where I was.

The shops all looked so different from my time.

My heart tugged slightly and I frowned.

My time.

How long was I going to be in this cursed place?

However long it takes to do something about Voldemort, I reasoned with myself.

Letting out a huff, I kept walking, peeking my head into shops to see what they were.

“Looking for something, hero?”

I turned at the sound of the voice, seeing a blond standing on the sidewalk.

Tom Riddle stood slightly in front of him, towering above the boy.

The blond smirked at me.

My eyebrows furrowed, my questioning gaze unintentionally shifting towards Riddle.

Tom nodded his head towards the boy.  “This is Avery.  He’s one of my friends.”

I gave him a disbelieving look, cocking an eyebrow.

Tom lifted his head slightly, tilting his chin up a little in defiance.

I turned to look at Avery.  “I’m not a hero.”  I crossed my arms.  “Whatever Riddle said, it’s not true.”

Avery raised an eyebrow at the accusation.

Tom’s expression remained stoic, but I could see his features harden slightly.

I sighed.  “Look, could you just tell me where to purchase some parchment and textbooks?”

“You don’t know,” Avery asked incredulously.

“I’m not exactly from around here.”  My eyes drifted to Tom before turning back to the blond.

Avery chuckled darkly.  “You could just look around and find out for yourself.  Get more acquainted, you know.”

“That’s what I was doing before you interrupted,” I retorted.

Tom nodded his head towards a store, clasping his hands behind his back.  “I believe you’ll find your desired things in there, Miss King.”

“My desired things, huh?”  I scoffed, beginning to walk towards the building.  “I doubt it.”

~~~~~~~~~

I sat in the library, scratching my head as I stared down at my Transfiguration textbook.  I wasn’t focusing on the words, though.

I was trying to figure out how to get through to Riddle.

I didn’t want to seek him out, but I had to do something.  I couldn’t just wait around for things to happen on their own.

But how does one get through to a psychopathic murderer?

“You’ve been staring at that same page for ages.”

It took a few moments for me to realize that I was the one being spoken to.  Looking up, I locked eyes with my guest.  My stomach caught in my throat.  “I don’t see how that’s any of your business, Riddle,” I muttered, looking back down at my book.

He sat down across from me.  “I understand; Professor Dumbledore is such a dull teacher.”

I lifted my head to look at him, a glare crossing my features.  “Professor Dumbledore is an excellent teacher.  He’s an excellent mentor and an excellent man.”

Tom sneered.  “I would have sooner compared him to a vulture.  He’s always watching me.”

“Gee,” I deadpanned at him, “I wonder why that is.”

His eyebrow twitched upwards; in challenge or annoyance, I couldn’t tell.  “There’s no evidence of anything I’ve done.”

“Maybe you just seem evil to him.”  I crossed my arms.  “He’s a good judge of character.”

Tom smirked at me.  “Unlike yourself.”

I looked at him in silence for a few moments.  “I can judge someone’s character.”

“Perhaps, but you must not be very good at it.”  He pulled out a book, flipping to a random page to feign studying.  “You left the Dark Lord alive, remember?”

A pang of guilt and rage rushed through me.  “I told you why.”

“But I don’t believe it.”  He lifted his head to look at me.  “Gryffindors are noble, but they’re also headstrong.  If they make up their mind to do something, it takes a lot to get them to change their mind.  And what could be more noble than avenging the deaths of so many?”  He leaned forward.  “So.  What made you change your mind?”

“You’re so smart.”  I leaned forward in my own seat, narrowing my eyes at him.  “Figure it out.”

Tom stared at me for a few moments before letting out an incredulous chuckle and sitting upright.  “Surely you wouldn’t let something as mundane as physical attraction sway you.”

My face broke into a harsh heat and I leaned back in my seat.  Having no response, I simply scoffed and averted my attention to another student searching the shelves for a book.

Tom continued to stare at me in silence.

I could feel my face getting warmer at the attention.

The awkward prolonged quiet wasn’t helping, either.

I took a deep breath, trying to fight off the sweat that had formed a thin layer over my skin.  I practically willed my cheeks to lose some of their red color.

Merlin, they rivaled a Weasley’s hair.

Turning my glare towards the Slytherin sitting across from me, I crossed my arms.  “You didn’t kill me, either.”  I nodded my chin towards him.  “I know your secret.  I’m a threat to your cause.  I could expose you for what you really are.”

“You can’t expose me, remember?  No one would believe you.”

“Dumbledore would.”

His confident smirk was replaced by a frown, his eyebrows pulling together.  His form tensed, sitting more rigid than before.  He looked to the side.  “Dumbledore is a fool.”  He met my eyes again.  “He can’t do anything to me.”

“So you keep saying.  But I’m not convinced.”

Tom’s eyes narrowed at me.  “Are you trying to get me to kill you?”

“No.”  I shrugged one shoulder.  “Just trying to figure you out.  You said you were keeping me alive for information.”

“A true statement.”

I leaned forward.  “Then use Legilimency.  Read my mind and find out all you want to know.  Then you would have no reason to keep me alive,” I challenged.

Tom’s eyes shifted between my own.  “It’s too easy.”

I rolled my eyes, sitting upright again.  “Sorry, I didn’t know that taking over the world was a sport to you.”

He regarded me silently.

When the silence stretched on, I looked back down at my textbook.  “What are you doing here, anyway?  Are you following me or something?”

“Don’t be absurd.”

I glanced up at him before returning my attention to the page in front of me.  After rereading the same sentence eight times I huffed, closing the book and staring in annoyance at the cover.

Transfiguration: Third edition.

I chewed on my lip before stuffing the book in my bag and standing, marching out of the library.

~~~~~~~~~

I steeled myself, knocking on the door.

“Come in,” a voice from inside called.

Pushing open the wooden door, I stepped into the office.  “Professor Dumbledore?”

“Ah, Miss King.”  A small smile appeared on the man’s face.

Merlin, I almost cried at the sight of it.

“Please,” he gestured, “have a seat.”

“Thank you, Professor.”  I sat down in the chair facing his desk.

“What can I do for you?”

“Professor, I was wondering…”  My leg began to bounce.  “I was wondering what you could tell me about… about Tom Riddle.”

Dumbledore’s eyebrows rose.  “What would you like to know about Tom?”

“Anything useful.”

Dumbledore cocked an eyebrow at me.

My leg bouncing increased speed.  Surely, I could tell Dumbledore what was going on?  In my time he was dead anyway, so it wouldn’t have an impact later?

It was flimsy logic, but it was all I had.

I huffed.  “Professor, I’m from the future.  I was sent back from the year 1998.”  Reaching into my robe, I pulled out the time turner to show him.

His expression remained mostly impassive as he simply looked at the object before lifting his gaze to me.  “All but two time turners in the world only take the wearer back at a maximum of five hours.”

“This one was altered by the person who sent me back,” I explained, trying to be as vague as possible.

He didn’t need to know everything.

I fisted my altered uniform roughly, twisting the fabric in my hands.  “Professor, I was sent here to change the past.  To save everyone that Riddle kills.  But I’m not a hero.”  I let out a humorless chuckle.  “I’m starting to wonder if I’m even a Gryffindor.”

“Why would you not belong in Gryffindor?”

I lifted my eyes to meet his.  “I had the opportunity to kill Tom Riddle, before his acts got too carried away…but I didn’t.  I cowered out of it.”

Dumbledore hummed.  “Oftentimes, killing is the easy solution.  Especially if Tom becomes as bad as you say.  It is simple to end someone that would cause so much harm.”  He looked at me meaningfully, with a warm smile and a kind look in his eyes.  “Sometimes it takes more bravery to spare a life.”

I bit back tears and nodded.  I cleared my throat.  “What should I do, Professor?  How do I change a killer?”  I moved in my seat, sitting on the edge of the chair.  “How can I get through to him?”

“I do not know everything about Mister Riddle,” Dumbledore informed.  “He grew up in an orphanage.  His mother died when he was very young.  His father abandoned him.”  Dumbledore clasped his hands, resting them on the desk.  “There must be a reason that you specifically were sent here, Miss King.  Use your judgment.  Find your own way.”

I sighed, looking down and nodded.  “Thank you, Professor.”  I stood and exited the office.

My own way, huh?

~~~~~~~~~

What the frick was my way?

I briefly considered the option of holding my wand to his throat, demanding he fix his mistakes or I’d kill him, but I quickly reasoned that wouldn’t work.

No matter how much I wished it did.

I had been in 1945 for a few weeks, but it felt like I had been here for a number of months.

And I was making no progress.

My grades weren’t even very good, since I had other things on my mind.  I had never been a good multitasker.

Merlin, I was seriously doubting Professor McGonagall’s choice in sending me back.

I had no idea what I was doing.

Alright, then.  I’d wing it.

I stood from the chair in the Common Room, making my way to the door.

“Curfew starts soon, King,” Joan warned, looking up from her book.

“I know.”  Without looking back, I pushed the portrait open and closed it behind me, making my way to the dungeon.

I never liked the dark, and this part of the castle seemed to soak it all up.  Thankfully, I could still see.  Reaching the door to the Slytherin Common Room I paused.

I didn’t know the password.

And with curfew starting soon, Riddle might not have even been in the Common Room.

I chewed my lip.

Thankfully, the door swung open on its own.

I froze as a figure walked out, not sure if I should be relieved or not.  “Avery,” I greeted.

The blond looked up at me, his steps halting.  “Hero?”  He raised a judgmental eyebrow.  “What are you doing at the Slytherin Common Room?”

“Looking for Riddle.”

Avery watched me for a few moments.  “He’s inside.  He’ll be starting to patrol soon.”

“Can you get him?  I need to talk to him.”

Avery thought for a few moments before retreating into his Common Room.  He emerged shortly after, Riddle in tow.

Avery walked down the hallway, doing whatever it was he was going to do before he saw me.

Tom closed the door behind him, looking down at me in a manner similar to Avery’s.

It was different, though.

Tom was studying me.  Trying to figure me out.

He raised a silent, questioning eyebrow at me.

I suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable in my own skin.

I cleared my throat.  “Can we talk?”

His other eyebrow rose in surprise.  “I’m going to begin my rounds soon-”

“I know; Avery told me.”  I looked up at him.  “But I need to either sort this out or go home.”

Tom’s expression shifted ever so slightly.  “You would go home?  Even if your goal was unaccomplished?”

I shrugged one shoulder.  “If I can’t do what I was sent to do, there’s no point in hanging around a time that isn’t mine, is there?”

Tom regarded me silently for a few moments.  “No.  No, I suppose not.”

I gestured at him.  “Especially with you graduating soon, I’m going to lose a lot of contact with you.”  I cracked a small smile.  “Unless I apply for a job at the same place.”  I tilted my head, my smile growing.  “But I kind of doubt I’d get it, since I would only have about two months of proof of my existence, so…”

The corners of Tom’s mouth raised slightly.  He nodded, looking down the hallway.  His gaze drifted back to meet my eyes.  “Walk with me.”

I fell into step beside him, needing to jog a little initially to catch up to his long paces.  Once I settled into a rhythm that would keep me next to him, I relaxed, turning to look up at his side profile.  “Do you like being the Head Boy?”

He turned his head to look at me, a confused expression overtaking his features.  “What?”

“You heard me.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking forward again as he turned corners without much thought.

I figured he must have memorized his paths at this point.

“It gives me power, but also responsibility.”

“So, yes and no?”

He looked down at me.  “Did you come to talk to me about something as dull as this?”

I shrugged, turning my attention forward as we rounded another corner.  “I just wanted to talk to you about anything.”

He kept his expression guarded.  “Trying to discover my weaknesses?”

I frowned as I thought for a moment.  “Not really.”  I looked up at him.  “I don’t think your feelings on your Head Boy duties are particularly useful insights into the darkest parts of your mind,” I admitted.

His eyes flickered down to me very briefly before looking ahead again.  “Was there anything else?”

I pursed my lips.  “I didn’t really have anything in mind.”  I looked back towards him.  “Just…tell me about yourself.”

A skeptical look overtook Tom’s features as he continued to stare ahead, resolutely not looking at me.  “You’re trying to get me to reveal something.”

I could see it behind his eyes, though.

Vulnerability.

“Tom…” I sighed, looking up at him.

He finally looked down at me.

I frowned.  “You’re far too cynical.  Is it so hard to believe I just want to get to know you?”

Tom raised an eyebrow.  “You did try to kill me.”

“And I haven’t for almost a month now,” I reminded.

Tom’s eyes shifted to the floor for a few beats before he looked forward again.  “I still don’t trust you.”

“Nor I, you.”

~~~~~~~~~

I tugged at my hair, looking down at my Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook.

“Is something wrong, King?”

I looked up, seeing Tom sit across from me.  “My grades are slipping because I’ve been a little…preoccupied.”  Pursing my lips, I let out a small huff.  “And Defense Against the Dark Arts was never one of my strong suits,” I remarked, gaze returning to my book.

“Well, fortunately it’s my best subject.”  Tom stood, moving around the table to sit next to me.

I felt heat creep up my neck at the proximity.

He placed his hands on the table, his robe sleeve brushing mine, looking over at the pages I had flipped open.  “What have you been struggling with?”

Merlin, how was anyone supposed to think with Tom that close, let alone focus.

“Uhhh.”

Tom looked down at me, his green eyes peering into mine.

My breathing picked up, chest rising and falling at a faster rate.  I studied his face for a few moments, gaze dropping briefly to his lips before quickly averting my eyes to stare down at the textbook.

King, what do you think you’re doing!?  Pull yourself together!

I forcibly cleared my throat.  “Uhhh,” I repeated, my voice even weaker than it had been.  I let out a strained chuckle, holding my head in my hand.  “Merlin, Tom.”

“Are you alright, King?”

I looked over at him, only to turn even redder at seeing the smirk on his face.

“Should I take you to the healer?”  His eyebrows quirked upward almost mockingly.  His features shifted, feigning concern.  “I don’t believe that shade of red is normal.  Or healthy.”

I glared, the expression holding no actual anger, and swatted him in the arm, looking back to my book.  “I hate you.”

He let out a breathy chuckle before pulling the textbook closer to him so he could see it better.  Gesturing at it, he looked back at me.  “What’s confusing you?”

An affectionate smile graced my features.

I didn’t even have the thought to gasp in horror at the action.

~~~~~~~~

“No, that’s purely a defensive spell.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, scratching down a note as I took a bite of toast.

Tom sat next to me, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice.

“I think some of these spells should be more versatile,” I muttered, finishing writing and sitting upright.

“Unfortunately, we cannot decide.”

I looked up at Tom.  “Bummer, really.”  I huffed out a sigh.  “I guess we just have to focus on what we can control.”

Tom’s gaze dropped slightly.

I could practically see the gears turning in his head.

“Indeed,” he said.

I blinked at him for a few moments before pointing at a sentence in my book.  “But, does-”

The sound of the doors in the Great Hall opening brought my attention to them.

I sighed as students flowed in.  Looking back to Tom, I frowned.  “I wish there was somewhere private we could meet.  We aren’t in the same house, so we can’t even both be in the same Common Room.”

Tom hummed.  “The library is only available for certain hours, as well.”

I nodded, pursing my lips.  “I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”  Closing my book, I looked back at Tom as I put the textbook back in my bag.  “Thanks for all your help.”

Tom chuckled briefly.  “It’s a wonder you made it to seventh year in your time.”  He stood from the Gryffindor table, looking down at me.  “I can only assume that magic has gotten even more complex in future decades.”

“The style of writing is different.”  I sent him a crooked grin.  “Less pompous, if you ask me.”

He scoffed.  “Less professional, you mean.”  He turned around, returning to the Slytherin table.

I smiled at his back for a few moments before returning to my breakfast.

“How are you, King?”

I looked up, seeing Margaret sit across from me.  “I’m doing well, how about you?”

She smiled.  “I’m ready for the day.  Our finals are in only a few weeks, but I feel prepared.”

Groaning, I put my head in my hand.  “Don’t remind me.  This Defense Against the Dark Arts stuff is killing me.”

“You seem to be doing better in class,” she remarked, pouring herself a cup of pumpkin juice.

I smiled softly, the image of Tom Riddle appearing in my head.  Clearing my throat, I looked up at the Gryffindor.  “It’s a miracle, Margaret.”

~~~~~~~~~

“I’m ready to go to sleep,” Joan remarked, heading back to the Common Room for the evening.

“It has been a long day,” Margaret agreed, readjusting her grip on the books she held to her chest.

“I’ll probably be up for a little bit,” I admitted, running a hand through my hair with a huff.  “I need to do more studying.”

“Miss King.”

The three of us turned to the voice.

I involuntarily smiled at the sight of the Slytherin.  Nodding in greeting, I managed to wipe most of the smile away.  “Mister Riddle.”

My housemates were looking between us suspiciously.

Tom turned to the two girls.  “May I borrow her?”

They exchanged glances before nodding at the Head Boy.

Tom smiled.  “Wonderful.”

I looked at the girls and waved.  “I’ll catch up with you later.”

They waved back before continuing to head towards the Common Room.

I turned back to Tom, raising an eyebrow and smirking slightly.  “Borrow me?”

He smirked back.  “It worked, didn’t it?”

I shook my head, chuckling.  “What did you need?”

“I wanted to show you something.”  He gestured for me to follow him, which I swiftly did.

I didn’t even realize I no longer had trouble trying to match his pace.

“I found somewhere I think we could meet,” he said just quietly enough so that no one but me could hear.  “I had read something about it and began to research.”  He turned a corner, stopping in front of a wall.  He stared up at it.  “It’s called ‘The Room of Requirement’.”

My eyes widened.

Of course!

“Brilliant, Tom.”  I turned, seeing the familiar door begin forming on the once-blank wall.

Once the door had fully appeared, I walked forward, opening the door and stepping inside.

I paused, looking around.

“Is something wrong?”

My gaze raked the room.  “It’s just different from my time.”  I chuckled, observing the couch and two chairs surrounding a small table.

A fireplace sat a few paces away, filling the room with warmth.  A red rug covered the floor, a bookshelf in the corner of the room.

I chewed on my lip.  “I suppose it’s for a different use, though.”

“What do you use the room for in your time?”

The voice was so close I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

I looked over my shoulder, seeing Tom standing behind me.  My gaze raked his features.  I forced my voice to remain steady.  “Practicing spells.”  I drew my gaze from him to look around the room again.  “It’s usually much more open than this.”

Tom hummed before moving from behind me to stand by the small table.  “I thought this would be a good place for us to study,” he remarked casually, running his hand along the back of a chair.

I watched the action before lifting my gaze to meet his eyes.

He met mine at the same time.

“It’s very cozy in here.”  I walked towards him, sitting down on the couch.  “I might do more sleeping in here than studying.”

Tom sat down next to me.  “I will not let you sleep.”  He looked over at me.  “Not with the end of the semester so close.”

I huffed.  “Right.”  Sighing, I pulled my school bag off my shoulder, dropping it on the floor next to me as I pulled out my DADA book and set it on the table, turning to the right page.  “Now… where were we?”

~~~~~~~~

“Correct.”

I sighed out in relief, leaning back against the familiar couch, running my hands along my face.

“You really are doing quite well,” Tom said from beside me.

I let out a short chuckle.  “Only thanks to you.”  I dropped my hands to my lap, looking over at the Slytherin.  “There’s only one week left until exams.”  I scooched forward on the couch so I could better reach the table, looking down at my textbook.  “With all of this new information, my brain may explode.”

“I think that is unlikely.”

I chuckled as I turned to look at Tom, only to freeze, my breath catching in my throat.

He was looking down at me, a warm glint in his eyes.  A beautiful glow was being cast on part of his face from the fire, contrasting the dim lighting of the rest of the room.

The sounds of the crackling embers filled my ears.  The smell of wood flooded my nose.

A warmth overtook me as I looked between Tom’s green eyes.

My heart twinged.

I gasped slightly, looking away.  My eyes wide, I held my head in my hands as I tried to calm my breathing.

This can’t be happening.

“King?”

I felt the couch shift as Tom leaned closer to me.

“Are you alright?”

I looked over at him, meeting his concerned eyes.  I let out a tiny quiet, albeit strained, laugh.  “I’m alright, Tom.”  My gaze dropped to his lips, lingering there for far longer than I had intended, getting caught up in mentally tracing their shape.

I briefly wondered how they’d feel.

I groaned, falling sideways on the couch, my hair splayed out on the cushion.  I hid my face in my hands.

What in Merlin’s name was wrong with me?

Sighing, I turned, lying on my back as I stared up at the ceiling.

He’s the Dark Lord, he’s the Dark Lord, he’s the Dark Lord, he-

I closed my eyes.

The Dark Lord would never help the woman sent back to kill him with her homework.

My eyes opened, seeing Tom looking down at me.

His face was contorted into one of confusion as his gaze raked my form before meeting my eyes again.  He quirked an eyebrow.

I chuckled, sitting up again.

“Is everything okay?”

I smiled at the Slytherin.  “Yeah.”  My gaze drifted between his curious eyes.  “It is.”  Slowly, I reached my right hand up.

His gaze went to it, watching for a few moments, before his eyes returned to mine.

I carefully placed my hand on the side of his face.

He took in a sharp inhale, eyebrows pulling together and eyelids fluttering.

I gently rubbed my thumb over his cheek, reaching my left hand up and placing it on his shoulder.

He stared into my eyes with so much emotion I could barely stand it.

I leaned forward slowly, watching him intently for any indication of rejection.

He swallowed hard as I got closer.

When I was just a few inches from him, I met his eyes.

They were large, looking alarmed, but I didn’t find any dislike.

I slowly closed the gap, my eyes fluttering closed unintentionally the moment our lips met.

Merlin, his lips felt so perfect against mine.

My hand on his shoulder shifted, dragging across his back to cradle the back of his head.  My fingers threaded through the hair, loving the softness.

A tug on my waist brought my attention to the weight of his hands on my hips.

I broke the kiss slowly, desperately needing air, and rested my forehead against his.  I continued to play with his hair as I panted for breath, my eyes still closed, afraid that if I opened them the moment would be gone.

For the first time in a long while I could finally hear Tom’s breathing, nearly as ragged as mine.

I felt a gentle nudge against my lips and kissed back, my right hand taking place at the back of Tom’s head to replace my left hand, which had traveled down to Tom’s left shoulder.  My arm laid completely across the back of his neck and shoulders, pulling him towards me with such force I fell backwards onto the couch, Tom following.

I opened my eyes as I pulled away, looking up at him.

He panted from above me, eyes drifting between my own.

Shifting my right hand, I brushed some of his fallen hair out of his eyes.  “I think I love you,” I whispered.

His eyes widened and he froze, his breathing seeming to stop altogether.

But perhaps it did.

As much as my head screamed at me that this was Voldemort, the Dark Lord, the killer of dozens, it didn’t feel true.

I could never feel this way about Voldemort.

Tom Riddle was a different person.  He shared the same anger issues, hurts, wishes for something better for himself, but he wasn’t so malicious.

“It’s okay,” I whispered, cradling his jaw again.  “You don’t need to say it back if you don’t want to.”

Tom’s wide eyes searched my own, as if in disbelief of what he’d heard.

I chuckled, reaching both arms around his back and pulled him down, laying him on top of me.

He tried to use his forearms to support his weight, but I forced his entire body onto me, enjoying the fullness of his presence.

Letting out a content sigh, I wrapped my arms around him, rubbing his back.  I turned my head, placing a kiss on his temple before we stilled, just listening to the sounds of our own breathing and the fire, feeling nothing but each other.

~~~~~~~~

Tom hadn’t spoken to me since yesterday.

While he normally would spend some time eating breakfast at my table before most of the students came in, he marched straight to the Slytherin table, an expression on his face that I had never seen on him before.

He didn’t look quite confused or angry, but he didn’t look happy or sad either.

The best guess I had was that he was trying to figure out what to do after our last…interaction.

To be fair, hearing those three dangerous words from someone not from your own time sent to kill you would probably send me for a loop.

I slowly ate supper, doing some thinking of my own.

I had caught him looking at me multiple times today, but that was hardly surprising, or even helpful in finding out what was going through his brain.

It was doing little to calm the anxiety that had seemed to settle in my stomach and reside there all day.

“King?”

I looked up, seeing Margaret and Joan looking at me expectantly.  “Sorry, what?”

“What are your plans after you graduate?”

I let out a small chuckle at the irony, looking back down at the food on my plate.  “I’m not sure.”  My gaze lifted to find the Head Boy.  “I guess that depends.”

Margaret caught it and she gasped, clasping her hands together.  “Are you going to marry Tom Riddle!?”

My fork slipped out of my hand, clattering against the plate as my eyes widened.  “Shhh!”  I narrowed my eyes at her.  “Merlin, Margaret, people can hear you.”

She grinned sheepishly.  “Sorry.”

After a beat of silence, Joan looked over at me.  “Well?  Are you?”

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.  “I don’t know.”  My leg began to bounce and I brought my hand down, placing it on top of my knee in an effort to stop its movements.  “I don’t know what we are.”  I looked over at him.  “I don’t know if we can.”

Can you marry someone from the past?

“We didn’t think you and Tom were that close,” Joan admitted carefully.  “I know that you would often disappear, but we didn’t know why.”

“He’s helping me study for the upcoming exams,” I said, gaze dropping back to my plate.

“Is that all?”

I glanced over at Margaret.  “I don’t know.”  Putting my hands on the table, I stood.  “I’m going for a walk.  I’ll see you both later.”  Stepping away from the table, I marched out of the Great Hall, not once looking back.

~~~~~~~~

I simply had to ask him.

Two days had gone by without anything from the famous Slytherin.

I sat at breakfast, trying to figure out when the best time to approach him was.

He didn’t even come into the Great Hall early like he usually did, instead coming in surrounded by his followers amongst the flood of other students.

“Attention, students,” Headmaster Dippet spoke.  “Your final exams begin today and last throughout the week.  To avoid cheating, only one house at a time will take their exams so that everyone can have their own desk.”  His gaze raked across the tables.  “Your schedules are posted on the classroom doors.  Now,” he gestured, “enjoy your breakfast.  And good luck.”

I ran a hand through my hair as he sat back down.

Alright.  Approaching Tom before our exams was out of the question.

Maybe I could catch him in the hallway.

I then had the thought that talking to the most famous boy in school about our love life in the middle of a likely-busy hallway was not my best idea.

After class, perhaps?

He might have Head Boy duties, or something.  He’d probably run off to his Common Room as soon as he could, anyway.

Merlin, this was giving me a headache.

Sighing in temporary defeat, I pulled out my textbook to begin studying for my first test.

Maybe focusing on something else would clear my head.

~~~~~~~~

By Friday I was determined to track this man down, even if it meant breaking into the Slytherin Common Room.

It had been a whole week since we had spent that evening in the Common Room.

Merlin, it just was my luck that the first person I broke down walls for, confessed my feelings to and was intimate with would be from fifty years ago, and it just would be Lord Voldemort- the man that I had been sent to kill- and of course he would avoid me at any possible cost afterwards.

You couldn’t write this stuff.

As soon as I handed in my test for grading- briefly noting that there was no way I did as well as I would have liked given my mental state- I sprinted out of the classroom as quickly as I could, making a beeline for the Slytherin Common Room.

If I had to wait there for hours, I would see Tom Riddle.

He couldn’t run forever.

And so, I waited.

Because it was Friday, the last day before graduation, there was only one exam today in order to give the teachers enough time to grade everything.

Tom wouldn’t be long.

I waited outside their door for two hours, at some point sitting down because my feet were beginning to hurt from standing on the stone floor.  At the sound of voices, I looked up, rising to stand.

Tom, naturally, led the pack; taking up the front.

He looked away from one of his followers, eyes landing on their door before his gaze drifted to me.

I don’t think I had ever seen Tom Riddle look nervous before.

“King,” he addressed in a false sense of calm.

I could hear the slight waver in his voice.

Cocking an eyebrow, I resisted the urge to cross my arms.  “Riddle,” I replied in a cold tone.

He let out a harsh, silent breath, glancing away briefly before meeting my eyes again.  “What are you doing here?”

“Hunting for snakes.”  I allowed my arms to cross.  “They tend to hide when they get scared.”  I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes.  “You haven’t seen any, have you?”

Whispers broke out amongst the Slytherins behind Tom.

He looked over his shoulder, wordlessly silencing them with only an expression.  Turning back to me, he faltered for a moment.

I had clearly caught him off guard.

He was getting sloppy.

I mentally patted myself on the back.

Surely if Tom was going to end up as Voldemort he would have kept alert, right?

At his prolonged silence I raised an expectant eyebrow.

“What’s the wait for?!”  Someone from the back yelled.

I looked towards the back of the group before meeting Tom’s gaze again.

He huffed, rolling his eyes slightly.  Looking back to me, he finally found his voice.  “We were going to celebrate the end of the year…” he trailed off, hoping I would get the message.

If he thought I was going to succumb to his not-so-subtle hint to leave, he had another thing coming.

I scoffed.  “You’re not.”

“We’re not?”

“You’re not.”  I nodded my head towards the group behind the Head Boy.  “They can do what they please.”  I looked back to Tom.  “But you owe me a conversation and some time.”

He watched me for a few moments.

I refused to back down.

Tom sighed, nodding.  He gestured for the rest of his housemates to go in, quietly announcing the password.

When we were finally alone I remained silent, wanting him to crumble a little under the dread of what would come out of my mouth.

Frankly, I didn’t even know what I was going to say.

After a few moments he cleared his throat, drawing his shoulders back and holding his head high to stand to his full height.  He looked at me, raising an eyebrow, but I could see the flicker of fear behind his eyes.

I waited a few beats before asking the first question.  “Do you realize how horrible this week has been for me?”  I scoffed.  “Merlin, Tom, we graduate tomorrow- I worried I would never see you again.”

His gaze dropped to the floor.

I crossed my arms, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious.  “Look, if you regret it- if you regret me- then you should have just come out and say it.”  I looked to the wall, terrified of meeting his eyes.

Silence stretched between us, feeling so suffocating I considered leaving to get some fresh air.

But I couldn’t.  Not now.  Not when I finally had him.

“I don’t.”

It was so quiet I barely heard him.  I finally turned my head to face him, meeting his gaze.  I eyed him, trying to find any indication of a lie.  Finding none, I continued.  “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I needed some time to think.”

I tried to swallow the lump that formed in my throat, but was unsuccessful.  “And?”  I managed to croak out.

He grew silent again.

If I didn’t know any better, I would say he was toying with me intentionally.

My eyebrows pulled together as I searched his eyes.  “Tom?”

He took a deep breath.  “I want you to stay.”  He straightened his posture again.  “I want you to stay with me.”

I swore my heart stopped.

Time seemed to halt around me.

I opened my mouth, trying to respond, but I found I had no idea what to say.

Did I want to stay with him?  Could I stay in a time that wasn’t my own?  Was he completely cured of his evil endeavors?

I blinked away my thoughts, squaring my shoulders.  “And your…plans for the future?”

He went silent, though he held my gaze.  “I never had anyone love me before,” he finally settled on saying.  “I didn’t think I was capable of the feeling, myself.”  He took in a large, shaky breath, but kept his eyes on mine.  “I’m willing to give up my aspirations for you.”  His eyebrows quirked up in vulnerability.  “If you’ll have me.”

I was rendered completely and utterly speechless.  All thoughts of an appropriate response fled my brain.  I looked down, trying to think, when I caught sight of his hands at his sides.  I lifted my head to meet his gaze.  “And the Horcruxes?”

He grimaced.  “I haven’t destroyed them, yet.”  He lifted his hand to look at the ring that hugged his finger.  “I’m not looking forward to it.”

“It’s going to hurt,” I confirmed, walking towards him to look at the ring.  Reaching my hand out, I stroked the gem, making a mental note that he let me.  I lifted my gaze to meet his eyes.  “That’s what happens when you split your soul apart.”

He sighed, nodding.

I clapped my hand on his chest good-naturedly.  “Be glad I caught you when you’ve only made two.  I imagine it hurts worse with each split.”

Having nothing to say, he simply nodded again.

I chuckled, holding his large hand between both of mine.  “So…” I grinned up at him, “you’ll get a good job because you’re so smart, I’ll get the best job I can, being in a different time and everything, and we’ll go from there.”  I gently patted the top of his hand.  “How does that sound?”

He smiled.  “It’s a start.”

I chuckled, stepping completely into him and wrapping my arms around him.

His arms came around me, settling on my low back.

I let out a small laugh.  “How on earth did I do this?”

Tom pulled away slightly to look down at me.  “Do what?”

“Tame the Dark Lord.”  I chuckled.  “I still don’t know what Professor McGonagall was thinking.  I have no idea how this worked.”

Tom thought for a moment.  “By being yourself, I suppose.”

I hummed.  “Sounds flimsy.”

Tom huffed a chuckle and I grinned, looking up at him.

Reaching my right hand up, I once again cradled the side of his face.

He closed his eyes, leaning into it, before he opened them to look down at me.

We both leaned forward, meeting in the middle, and our lips connected, slotting into place.

My heart danced in my chest as I ran my hand through his hair before pulling away to look up at him.  “I love you.”

He smiled down at me.  “I love you, too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: Holy moly, this is so long.  54 pages.

This was actually really hard to write.  Trying to make Tom Riddle redeemable is easier said than done.  I got stuck multiple times when writing this, trying to figure out how to best progress in a way that was realistic and moved the story and their relationship forward in a believable way.  He's also so nuanced that I reworked a fair number of his lines to try to sound as much like him as possible.

I went back and edited some things multiple times because I noticed that I was writing King coming at the problem from a Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff way, so I had to try to adjust it to make her more firmly Gryffindor.  She still has moments of traits from other houses, but that's normal, so.

There's a couple things in the story that I didn't outright say, but wanted to share anyway:

-Tom WAS following King (in Hogsmeade, the library, etc.) to keep an eye on her, because she DID defeat him and could have killed him if she wanted.  While he never admitted it, he did view her as a threat.

-Dippet's password being "strawberries" I made up/guessed, because Dumbledore had started a rumor that Dippet had planted strawberries on the castle grounds, likely meaning the Headmaster was fond of them.

-Doing some research, I found that Abraxas didn't actually go to school with Tom, but Avery was one of the few Death Eaters that were confirmed to.

-Tom reacting so strongly to physical affection just made sense to me.  Especially growing up in an orphanage, that boy is definitely touch-starved.

-Tom avoiding King to think also seemed fitting, since he was new to love and he had to battle between a woman and all of the plans he had been crafting for years.  I think it's realistic that he would have tried to give himself space and time to weigh his options, and even not wanting to seek her out to tell her.

-Tom didn't see an issue announcing the password to the Slytherin Common Room in front of King because it was the last school day, so she couldn't use it after they graduated, anyway.

Anywho.  That was a lot. Hope you enjoyed.  Make sure to let me know what you thought!  I'm curious if you thought I did our dear Tom Riddle justice.

idc how old this is, everyone needs to read it

Damian Al Ghul and the Annoying Reporter Masterlist → Completed

Masterlist

AgedUp!Damian Al Ghul x fem!reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, low-key crack fic, action

WC: 18,500

All Warnings: violence, mentions of blood, character death, mention of death, self-consciousness, salty Damian, Titus liking the MC better

Synopsis:

Wanting to make a name for herself, Y/N does the unthinkable and tries to interview the heir to the League of Assassins. Although, it doesn’t go as planned. How will she be able to salvage this, especially when Damian Al Ghul doesn’t like strangers.

Chapter Index:

Teaser || chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4 || chapter 5 || chapter 6 || chapter 7 || chapter 8 || chapter 9 || chapter 10 || chapter 11 || chapter 12 || Epilogue

im such a whore for nerdy smart polite boys, likes yess pls talk to me like were in a Shakespeare play and mansplain everything to me omg and pls pls pls call everything bu their correct name😍

A Pain Like Home - Tsukishima Kei x Reader

Back-to-back smutty fics? I've hit my stride!

Total transparency, this idea came to me while perusing a few smut prompt posts. One of the prompts literally possessed my body, and I had to get the words out as fast as possible. I conceived of the idea, wrote it, and edited it in a matter of a day and a half, which is way faster than these things usually go.

You and Tsukishima Kei broke up months ago as your life fell into a downward spiral. However, every time you go searching for home, you inexplicably end up right back in his arms.

Hope you enjoy!

Title: A Pain Like Home

Rating: Explicit

Warnings:

AFAB!Reader, Female Reader, Explicit PV Sex, fingering, m-handjob, couch sex, unprotected sex, crying during sex, chest/body shots, baby used once as pet name, ANGST, ex sex, college au, mention of parent death, mention of injury, Y/N has chronic pain, super brief mention of suicidal ideation, Tsuki is kind of a dick in this one, but then again so are you

Characters & ships: ex!Tsukishima Kei x Reader

Word count: 4.6k words

A/N: This Y/N really tiptoes a line between reader insert and OC. She has a lot more backstory than my usual reader fics have. If you'd prefer more of a blank slate (and don't need to know the backstory of how you and Tsuki have found yourself in this situation to enjoy the explicit angst), then feel free to skip the italicized part. If you're here for the angst, though, I'd highly recommend it.

18+ Minors DNI!

More explicit below the cut

“You always end up back here.”

You jump, startled, at the sound of Kei Tsukkishima’s voice echoing through the gymnasium. It was late - later than usual - and the lights had been dimmed, so you weren’t expecting anyone when you slipped your key into the door’s lock. Your college’s gym feels more like home than any other place, and sometimes, on nights like this one, you needed to feel like you were home. On nights like this one, you broke into the gym.

It was about 50/50 on if you ran into your ex, Tsukki.

On this evening, the net was still up following the men’s team practice, and Tsukki was on the far side of the gym away from you. You could stay split like this, share the court half and half, and everyone could be happy.

“I could say the same for you,” You toss the comment at him, unbothered and unprovoked, just as you toss your gym bag to the ground out of the way and pick up the first wayward volleyball you see. You press your fingers into it, bounce it off the floor a few times, and then lob it into the air and strike it down hard and fast on your own side of the court. It hits the ground with a loud smack and bounces into the bleachers, wildly pinballing around, but you’re too distracted in picking up your next ball to pay too much attention. “I could set for you, if you want,” Tsukki half-heartedly spikes his own volleyball, but his attention is on you as you whip every ounce of fury and burning hurt into your shoulder and through the ball as it ricochets from your hand and into the rafters.

“I don’t need a setter.”

“No, you don’t,” He observes another ball whiz through the air, “But it could make this practice meaningful instead of you just hitting balls because you feel like it.”

You glare at him, squeezing the volleyball you have between your hands, knowing the way that this goes every single time.

Still, you were the one who chose to come home.

“Fine.” You duck under the net to join him on his side and pass him the volleyball with too much force that he diffuses easily under his taped finger tips. He bounces it once before sending it up in the air, and you, too, jump through the air to strike it down with a hard smack. It hits the floor with speed and precision, and despite the surprise gently caressing Tsukki’s face in the bend of his eyebrows or the twitch of his mouth, you roll your neck, shake it off, and get in position to hit another one. A pain shoots up through your leg, but you swallow it down, ignore it, push through it.

“You’ve been practicing.”

“Sometimes.”

“You’re being short. And I don’t just mean your height-”

“Just set the next one, Kei.”

He puffs out an annoyed sigh, but still he nods and sends another into the air. You jump again, smack, and fall. The ball nearly causes the air to crack with it’s intensity. That one hurt just a little, and you’re left rubbing the sting out of your palm as Tsukki traverses the gym, collecting the rogue balls to keep setting to you.

“Is it the same old problems?”

“You don’t get to know that anymore.”

Tsukki tosses another in the air, and you smack it down. He tosses again, you smack again. Toss, smack. Toss, smack. Toss, smack. By the time he runs out of balls again, your heart feels nearly as numb as your hands. You try to walk through the pain wrecking havoc in your body, but each step is a stumble instead of a stride. He starts to collect the balls again but stops by the net and turns back to you as you lean your body forward, hands on your knees and gasping for air.

“Look, you can say it’s not my place, but it is. You come in here fuming all the time when you have the power to change the circumstances you’re in-”

“-if I wanted your advice I’d ask-”

“You spend all this time trying to make other people fucking happy, acting like you have no choice, but you’re not powerless. You’re not some fucking damsel in distress. Make a goddamned decision for once.”

“I did when I left you.”

He scoffs out a disbelieving laugh. “What, to hop over to bench warmer Fuckface McGee to chase something to fill the void in you? I don’t even know the guy’s name, but it’s not like it matters because you’ve slept through the entire volleyball team roster. You just happened to start with me.”

You stare at him, his face twisted in annoyed anger and your own features throbbing with sick-of-his-shit disbelief. “Go to hell, Kei.”

“That was the plan. I was getting ready to head back home when you walked in.” He drops the ball in his hand, grabs his bag from the sideline, and beelines to the exit. His hand is on the door when he turns back to you. “Are you coming?”

It takes less time than usual for you to grab your own bag and fall in step behind him.

————————

Your relationship with Kei was many things. Strange, a little toxic, the longest relationship you’d ever been in, full of a deep love you didn’t quite understand.

You were recruited by your college’s volleyball team when you, as captain, took your high school volleyball team all the way to win nationals for the first and still only time in your school’s history. In every news outlet reporting on the triumph, the success was attributed to you, and you had offers from all over the nation swarm in and drown you in a decision-making process that still gives you anxiety sweats just thinking about it. At the end of the day, your goal was to make the national team, and in order to do that, you had to go to the best school with the best team that was offering you a spot, even though that college was hours away from your family and the life you had spent 18 long years building for yourself.

You packed your bags, said goodbye to your family, and moved across the country to go to school. It’s a huge, urban university, swimming with hundreds or thousands of faces you’ll never see more than once when passing on the street.

Before you even checked into your dorm, you found your way to the gym, a beautiful, state-of-the-art fancy schmancy thing. You walked in the doors, following the sound of squeaking shoes and bouncing balls, and when you walked in to see the men’s team practicing on the court, it felt just like home. A beautiful, blond boy with a baby face and triple taped fingers was up to serve, and this was the first time you met Tsukkishima.

He nearly hit you with his spike.

“Watch it!” He yelled, shooing you out of the way with a dismissive wave, and thus, it was hate at first sight between the two of you.

Your university was looking to switch things up that year, however, following a string of embarrassing losses the season before, and they decided to name freshman for their captains on both the men’s and women’s team. You found yourself with a new captain’s jacket, and unfortunately, on the men’s side, so did Tsukkishima.

The goal of the switch up was to keep the teams on their toes, get fresh ideas that hadn’t been brainwashed by years of already being on the team, and keep new talent consistently striving for better. What ended up happening was just that, but at the same time, you and Tsukki were completely isolated from the rest of the team, being rejected as the favorites who unfairly were given spots way above their league. In hindsight, you understand why your teammates hated you, but in the moment, it hurt more than you imagined it would. All you had wanted was to help them get better, and it felt like no one understood that image except for Tsukki.

It didn’t help that you saw him nearly all the time. He was always at practice, he went to every media event both of you had to be at as captains, he lived in the same dorm as you and found the same study spots you thought you had claimed in secret for yourself, he even had the same major as you. He was in your face near constantly, and the unending ribbing and competition and forced, disgruntled companionship turned hate to tolerance, tolerance to like, and like to love.

He asked you out to the spring carnival your freshman year. It shocked you how easy the word yes slipped from your lips.

And from there you two started your two year long relationship. It was easy being with Kei. Even as overbearing and sometimes rude as he was, you two existed on the same wavelength. You had the same goals, the same interests, the same emotional bursts and flairs, and the same understanding as the other snapped. You never had to explain yourself to him; after every twist and turn, he was waiting for you with open arms when you were ready, and you did the same for him.

He was the one who was there when your father unexpectedly passed towards the end of your sophomore year of college. He was the one who stayed with you for weeks, never going back to his own place so you didn’t have to ever be alone. He was the one who made the trip back home with you, silently waiting and watching as you helped with preparation because he knew what you needed the most was just his presence and not his big mouth or overbearing nature. He was the one who took over both practices when you simply couldn’t get yourself out of bed and across campus to the gym. He was the one there ready to receive you and bring you back to the world when you picked yourself up and kept going.

He was also the one who was there when you lost everything your junior year. It was during the quarter final game at a nation wide tournament in the fall of the volleyball season. You fell hard and at exactly the wrong angle, snapped your leg in three places, and tore tendons from your knee to your toes. You were taken out in a stretcher, and the minute Kei heard, he left his own team’s quarter final game to ride with you to the hospital. He didn’t even think twice.

Your team lost without you. His team won without him. It’s unclear which truth hurt more.

You were given the worst news an athlete could hear. Weeks later, he stood next to you in the gym as you wobbled in your boot and in your words and officially resigned as captain and stepped away from the team. As your dream of making the national team died, so did your will, and you found yourself in the same blurry nothingness you were in when your father passed, but this time it felt like nothing could bring you out. Even as Tsukki tried and tried and tried to reach you, it was dark and painful and drowning where you were.

You broke up with him a week before your two year anniversary.

Since then, you’ve flunked most of your classes, nearly dropped out of school, get out of bed only to go to physical therapy, watched your ex-team have an incredibly underwhelming fall season without you for your senior year, and bounced from dick to dick of every boy you have ever met. Unfortunately, that’s pretty much only the men’s volleyball team. All of this has isolated Tsukki even more from his teammates, and now he’s alone, quiet except for the angry outburst, and hated more than ever.

He was there the first night you broke into the gym in the midst of a panic attack. You had been ready to find a way to the roof of the building when you walked in, sobbing and crazed, to see Tsukki alone with a volleyball in hand.

He talked you down. You went home with him.

That’s just how it’s been ever since.

————————

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” You mutter, following him up the stairs of his apartment building as he unlocks the door and holds it open for you. You instinctively find the elevator, pressing the specific number code that calls the elevator to the first floor that you have memorized like it’s nothing.

“You don’t usually talk to the stray cats you bring home.”

“You’re such a dick.”

He just hums in response, staring away from you as the elevator door opens and you both step inside. The ride up to his apartment is quiet and cold. He leans against the wall furthest from you, scrolling though an app noncommittally with an awkward hand in his pocket. You watch him the whole way up, and he doesn’t look at you once.

You follow him out of the elevator and into his apartment. You sit on his sofa with a comfortable ease on the side that you naturally think of as your side. You watch him as he glides through the kitchen, filling up two glasses with ice and sparkling water - your favorite flavor that you forced him to start liking while you were together. You accept the glass as he hands you one and sits on the other side of the couch, a huge gap between you. You wait as he pulls his phone out again, another app on his screen.

You’re always the one to make the first move.

Setting the drink down on the table, you close the gap between you two, hesitantly pressing your side against his and leaning into him. After a reluctant moment, he wraps an arm around your shoulders, which you take as an invitation. You take the glass and the phone from his hands, place it on the coffee table, and in one fell swoop, swing your leg over his lap to straddle him.

With a soft gentle caress, you brush your fingers over his cheeks and press your forehead to his. His eyes were always your favorite, the light honey brown tint sparkled in the moonlight, and it made your stomach flutter with butterflies. He was the first one to lean up and in, tilting your head with his nose until his lips touched yours. You sit like this, softly kissing, pulling away for just small gasps and pants of air, for long enough that the automatic light in the kitchen shutters off.

Practiced and with ease, you run your hands back through his hair, pulling at the soft, fluffy strands as they thread through your fingers. He moans softly into your mouth, his own hands finding your waist and puling you closer to him. You can feel the hot rigid length in his lap, and as you slowly grind against him, he rewards you by pressing his fingertips into your lower back, his palms cupping your waist like they were made to sit there.

His eyelashes finally flutter closed, and you watch his face freeze with pleasure, his jaw locked open with your lips suctioned to his lower lip. Your own nails scratch against his scalp, and he shivers beneath your touch. It’s nearly painful the need that has built between you two when you finally slide off him and peel your pants off. He slides out of his own pants, and when he looks back at you to pull you back onto his lap, you can’t help the embarrassment at the intricate brace on your knee. You drop your hands to hide the appliance, but he bats your hand out of the way and pulls you back to straddle him again.

“You act like I’ve never seen you naked,” He whispers, his hand finding its way between your legs. His nimble, strong fingers find the absolute wet mess you’ve made, and both of your roll your eyes back in a moan as a single finger glides across your slick slit.

“I’m afraid-” You moan, cutting yourself off as he pushes the fabric of your underwear out of the way and circles your clit with his fingertip.

“Of?”

“Judgment.” You think for a second as a shiver runs down your back from the stimulation between your legs. “Rejection.”

He brings his other hand to your arm, gripping your flesh and brushing softly against your skin to bring goosebumps to the surface.

“Me? Judge?” He smiles up at you as he presses against your clit again. You moan lewdly, nearly falling forward at the shock of pleasure. “I’d never.”

You scoff out a laugh before reaching a hand to move his own underwear out of the way. His cock springs forward, bouncing softly against his stomach, as you bring your hand to between your legs to meet his. You interlock your fingers with his as they slide against you, back and forth, teasing your clit to your entrance, and you both moan loudly at the feeling. In the moonlight, you can see the glistening pre-cum on his tip, and it makes you nearly vibrate with need. Thankfully, Tsukki can read your body language like it’s his native tongue, and he guides your fingers to dip into you. Both of your hands push into you, and you groan as you settle onto your hands. Rocking your hips back and forth, you throw your head back with pleasure.

“Like a fucking angel,” He mutters, leaning forward to press his lips against your collarbones and bite. Wet pleasure drips from you onto your palm, and when it feels like enough, you pull your fingers from yourself and suddenly grip Tsukki’s needy length. Your wetness and his pre-cum mix to make it slick and easy for your hand to stroke up and down. His body freezes in response, all of his muscles twitching with every pass of your hand.

His fingers curl deep inside you, and with each of your strokes, your rock your hips against his fingers. He’s deep enough inside you that he presses into that sweet spot, and his fingers find it with familiar ease every time you shift your hips.

“Kiss me,” You whisper into the night, and he shakes himself free enough for his lips to find yours. Your tongues press against each other, your hot breath billowing down each other’s necks, and each other’s hands milking pleasure out of your body. He tastes like knowing each other’s bodies like the back of your own hands.

You could’ve finished like this, in each other’s hands, if it wasn’t for the sudden shooting pain that radiates from your knee where you are kneeling in his lap. You flinch, taking the weight off it, and Tsukki supports you by grabbing your other hip with his free hand.

“Are you okay?”

“My leg,” You grunt out, moving your hands to grip the back of the couch as the pain fires even worse through your whole leg. He rubs at your hip, staring up at you to gauge your pain on your face, and when he sees you bite your lip and furrow your brow, he picks you up off his lap and deposits you on your back on the couch. Having your weight off your knee lightens the pain, and soon he has your brace off your leg and is massaging your joint with his hands.

He learned how to when you first hurt your leg, and he’s so comfortable that it feels second nature for him. It feels absolutely humiliating for you.

“Please stop,” You whisper, letting your leg fall, your foot hitting the floor, and you take his collar and pull his shirt over his head. Your nails gently drag against his chest, and he leans forward, catching himself by landing his hands on either side of your head.

“Does it hurt?”

You groan at the question, shimmying enough out of your shirt and bra that your chest was on display for Tsukki, but he maintains concerned eye contact with you.

“I just want you to fuck me like you did before,” You whisper, shifting your hips closer to his still protruding length.

He studies your face for a long time, but the desire in his chest must have won out, because he’s finally shirking off his boxers and settling himself between your thighs. He kisses you a few more times, soft and measured, before his tip presses against your entrance, and he sinks deep into you, bottoming out in your wet, hot, squishy insides.

You arch your back at the feeling of being so full of him, and his head drops to your neck, teeth grazing and sucking at the skin, and your arms wrap around his back to grip him as the feeling overwhelms you. Your stomach flops, and your brain swims. You drown in the smell of him, his cologne, his shampoo, his sweat and musk, and it smells, it feels, it overwhelms like home.

His thrusts into you feel deeper with each rock of his hips, and it sends shocks of nearly painful pleasure from your head to your toes. He’s groaning in your ear, and it’s a sweet song you miss like a lullaby you desperately want to remember when you’re lying alone in your own room at your own apartment. When his fingers find and tease your clit again, he moves in just the way you like that makes your toes curl, and that feels like the last straw.

Tears well in your eyes and drip down the sides of your face. With a sniffle, Tsukki finally brings his eyes back to your face, and when he sees your tears, he sighs softly with care. He shifts to his knees, pulling you just barely onto his lap, and he wraps his arms all the way around your body, his fingers gripping behind and around your shoulders so that your bodies are fully pressed against each other.

He shushes you softly in your ear. “I got you,” He whispers, squeezing his fingers into your skin, “I got you.”

His kindness makes the pain in your chest worst. “Please don’t stop,” You nearly sob, dropping your head into the crook of his neck. “Please keep going.”

Tsukki hesitates, but your begs and the needy rocking of your hips convinces him to slowly continue fucking into you. “I hate seeing you like this.”

“Then fuck it out of me, Kei,” You writhe against him, and after the internal struggle behind his eyes, he lays you on your back, grabs the back of your good leg, grips the arm of the couch behind you, and pounds his cock deep into you. It’s so sudden that it makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. You choke on your tongue, nails digging into any flesh on Tsukki’s body that you can find. “Oh God, yes, fuck,” You groan into his ear.

“You feel so good,” He grunts back, placing his hand on your cheek and your thumb on your lips. With tears still falling down the side of your face, you suck his thumb into our mouth and tongue against the skin.

“S-so deep,” You hiccup out as he lays into you, his cock pumping in and out. Your hand snakes down between the two of you, and you rub against your clit. You clench against his cock, and both of you moan out sweetly at the feeling.

“I got you," He mumbles again, bringing his forehead to yours to keep eye contact. "Can you cum for me, baby?” He asks, and you shiver at his words, moving your fingers faster and harder to get to where you want. You nod, your hair sticking to your face in the tears. He groans, his hips starting to stutter. “Then cum, baby, cum.”

You pant and groan and whimper and suddenly you’re cumming around his cock, your body short-circuiting with the feeling of your orgasm. For these few moments, nothing in your body hurts. The physical pain, the emotional pain, it’s silenced in the pleasurable waves rolling through your body. You arch your back and press your body against Tsukki, his warm pants and moans stinging your skin with electricity.

Even though you wrap your good leg around Tsukki’s waist, like you would when you were together, he pulls out and finishes across your stomach and chest. He strokes himself through it, the sweat glistening on his forehead in the moonlight as his cum paints your skin. You close your eyes, letting the sticky wet feeling cover you.

It takes a few moments of panting before he falls back to a seated position on the couch. You can feel the aching pain return to your knee, and before you grab anything to wipe yourself clean, you reach down for your brace.

“Let me help you,” He sounds vaguely annoyed with the whole thing, but his fingers are still gentle as they pull the brace on and into position.

“Thank you.” Your voice is small, the tears finally slowing. You rub your hands down your face, and then you search for something to clean yourself off with. Tsukki throws you his shirt, not even glancing your way.

“I hate it when you cry on me like that.”

“I thought you liked my misery.”

“Only when I’m causing it.” His smirk is half-hearted. He folds his leg underneath him, his other leg bending for him to place his chin on as he stared out the window.

You reach for your drink on the coffee table as you wipe away the leftover Tsukki on your body. You find your sweatshirt on the ground and throw it over your head, and now you two are sitting on opposite ends of the couch, just like before with just a few less clothes.

“Why do you do this for me if you don’t even like me?” You ask in a small voice, taking a sip of the drink in your hand, and he finally turns to look at you. His face shocked in disbelief.

“If I don’t even like you? Are you dense? I’m in love with you. I’m so madly in love with you that it hurts me every single day. You’re the one who broke up with me, so I should be asking you that question. Why do you come to me?”

Because you know he’ll understand you. You know you’ll be seen. You know he cares about you. You’d never actually answer that, though, because it’ll make you seem the callous bitch that he’s supposed to be.

“I don’t do it on purpose. You’re always in the gym.” The answer feels incomplete. “I like you, Kei.”

He watches your face as you refuse to meet his eyes. It takes a while before he stands, the hot anger radiating off of him, and he cleans up the space piece by piece. When he takes your empty glass to the sink he finally speaks.

“If we liked each other, we wouldn’t keep doing this.”

You watch him move from the kitchen to his bedroom door, but he hesitates before leaving you to the silence and darkness of his living room. He sighs, annoyed. “Are you staying the night.”

“I shouldn’t,” You spit back quickly, but you don’t get up to leave, and he doesn’t disappear to his bedroom. You two stare at each other for a long time, much too long. Finally he opens the door.

“Your pajamas are in the second drawer of my dresser,” then he squints his eyes at you, “but you should shower first. My sheets are clean.”

He disappears, leaving the door open behind him.

It takes you less time than usual to follow him in.

Sometimes "babygirl" is a 44-year-old man, and you have to accept that.

Katsuki was never the type of guy to give head. He doesn't eat pussy. But that is until he met you.

He usually let his partner suck his cock and then fuck them from behind. Just impersonal sex. No bonds. No feelings. No after care.

But when he met you ? The boy went crazy. He was obsessed with you. When you had sex for the first time he slowly kissed you before pulling down your panties and kneeling in front of you.

He desperately needed to taste you. He started by kissing your inner thigh before diving into your pussy. And that is when he went wild. He sucked on your clit and drew circles around it with his tongue. He made you cum countless times, never coming out for air. At some point he asked you to sit on his face because he needed more.

He licked you everywhere, not leaving out an inch of your skin. You were so overwhelmed by pleasure but he wasn't planning on stopping.

Get ready to spend the night on his face...