⋆⭒˚.⋆ ABOUT LUCE she / her. filipina. 15. hufflepuff. intj. cabin 03. written and directed by Nancy Meyers. Nine-Nine. adorkable. Fantastic Four, Avengers, Guardians & the strawhat’s honorary member. movie luvr. schrucy truether. SBprime pilled. New York, ILYBYMD. green and blue ring holder. lazy artist. average fanfic writer. shooter games fear me. lets go to the beach, beach. twitter user. damian wayne's n1. cory's samurai. that dude. tony stark's daughter. Harry Osborn defender. A jack of all trades, master of none.
He’s so in the comics flash gets his redemption, he reflects on his actions and apologises to Peter Parker and later on he even helps him in some comics as venom and his friend , I don’t remember exactly but it was something like that , will flash gets his redemption in your story
A/N: This was so fun to write! I got a bit carried away in writing this, spent about three days on it 😭 Since the poll's gonna be up for a while, I decided to finish this request. I hope you enjoy!
Next fic is a George Weasley one, promise! <3
Warning(s): Fluff, Cedric yearning, user is an introvert with like two friends, user is a year younger than Cedric (briefly mentioned, doesn't impact the story in any way), takes place between the first task and the Yule ball, I tried to make it as slow of a burn as possible 😭💕
Word count: 5.8k (sorry)
Dividers by @angeliicide !! Love her downn <3
Love to @p03tryv0r3 for being my pretty little beta reader
Cedric wasn’t supposed to be like this; he was better than this. He repeated the words like a mantra in his head as he bid his farewells to Ernie and Ben, practically tripping over himself to get to the library. It was the only time he ever saw you.
He didn’t know when it began, when his carefree charm began to feel intentional whenever he caught a glance of you, when his movements felt stiffer whenever he’d hear your voice in the distance. Maybe it began last week, when you smiled at him after he helped you get a book in the library. Maybe it was three months ago, when you burst into the great hall, flushed and breathless with laughter.
Maybe it was always inside him, from the moment he saw you sorted into Hufflepuff in your first year during his second, the way your grin widened into a relieved gasp when you heard it, how you ran over to the badger’s table, sat next to him without another thought. He still remembered how red he got when your knee pressed against his, how he hid his face away from yours so you wouldn’t see.
Since then, subconsciously, your figure was the first his eyes searched for in every single room and hallway. Maybe he didn’t mean to, but he couldn’t help it. It was stupid, really; he couldn’t figure out what it was about you that took his heart hostage. Maybe the way your fingers brushed books like they were sacred, how you whispered to yourself in class, like your brain didn’t hear your thoughts unless you voiced them aloud.
But maybe it was because you never performed for him. You weren’t like the girls who batted their eyes at him, squeezed his biceps, or laughed much too hard at jokes that truly weren’t that funny. You were reserved, a quiet presence, like lingering perfume. Your seraphic nature drew him in and wrapped his heart around your fist.
He should’ve been embarrassed at how pathetic he was being; he was Cedric Diggory. Every single girl in the school either thought he was attractive or was hopelessly obsessed with him; even guys got all giddy at the prospect of being friends with him. Safe to say, he was liked by all. Even Victor Krum slaps him on the back and yells “Diggy!” whenever he passes him and the other Durmstrang boys.
He forced himself to slow down as he neared the library, smoothing over his tie and smiling at a girl who giggled hysterically to her friends afterwards. He let the reassurance of his effect on women calm his nerves before he pushed the doors and walked in. The quiet hum and bustle of the library enveloped him as he walked across the room, towards the back of the library, the last few shelves. Either he’d find you, or he'd have to flash his prefect badge at whatever couple currently sucking face back there.
What would he say? Did he have to pretend to look for a book? Maybe he could use the second task as an excuse—
“Shoot!” You hissed, dropping your nose-high pile of books in your arms as you collided with his very solid chest. He stiffened upon seeing you, absolutely unprepared. He didn’t even practice a line; what was he even going to say? Sorry?
Maybe start with moving, Diggory, he hissed to himself, bending down to crouch in front of you as you scrambled to pick up the scattered books. “Merlin, I’m a ditz, I’m so sorry–” you blurted out, face heating up, ears burning.
“No, no, s’alright. Should’ve been watching, no?” He said with an easy smile, deciding he needed to be extra charming to woo you. He took the books from your hands swiftly, tilting his head to the side. “Where’re you going with half the library, love?”
You stiffened, cheeks burning as you averted your eyes and took a step back. “A table,” you huffed quickly, reaching for your books once more, which made him frown. “Which? M’sure you could use some help, and as your prefect–”
“That’s fine!” You said a bit too quickly, pulling up your yellow and black Hufflepuff scarf to your nose and grabbing the pile from his hands, wobbling a bit after jerkily rushing away from him. You rushed off to a table with two other Hufflepuffs he didn’t recognize and scrambled into your seat.
Smooth.
He bit back a groan and proceeded to aimlessly wander the library so as not to make it seem that all he came here for was you. He admired the walls and the floor for what seemed like hours, glancing over to your table every few minutes to see you and your stack of books still there. You hadn’t looked up once. Hadn’t even checked to see if he was around, nor even glanced around the room.
He frowned, looking around the room. A few girls from Ravenclaw were staring at him, quickly looking away when he glanced their way. He then locked his gaze on a few Beauxbatons girls, and even they smiled and whispered amongst each other.
He was the most popular guy in school, and yet, you’d just run from him. No one did that, not even the shy ones. Even they’d nervously smile and fluster at him being the one to notice them.
Around you, he felt like Superman without his powers. You seemed so... Unaffected. Not even in the cold, unbothered way. In the way a bunny runs when it hears the crunching of leaves nearby.
He pouted to himself, running a frustrated hand through his hair and leaving the library, fighting the urge to look back to see if maybe you were watching him leave, that maybe you were playing hard to get.
He shut the doors behind him and groaned and grumbled the rest of the way to the Hufflepuff Basement.
“C’mon, Ceddy, this has turned pathetic at this point.” Ernie huffed as he dropped down on his four-poster bed, leaning back with an exhausted groan. “You’re seriously losing your mind over a girl who’s spoken to you a total of, what, maybe six times? Seven if you count today.”
Cedric just offered a glare in return, running a hand down his face, immediately regretting his decision to tell his friends about you and what happened in the library two weeks ago. “Look, it’s not like that. She’s somethin’ else, I’m telling you.” He said defensively, making Ernie roll his eyes.
“Ced, hate to say it, but Ernie’s right on this one.” Ben muttered, passing Cedric a water bottle before moving to sit next to him. “You don’t know this girl. She sits alone, almost all the time. Has she even shown interest in you?”
“Maybe she’s shy!” Cedric protested, eliciting groans from both boys now.
Ernie huffed out a laugh. “This is just masochistic at this point, Ceddy! Y’know any girl’d throw themselves at you, yeah?” He said with a snort, narrowing his eyes towards the golden boy.
Cedric just pursed his lips and sighed, his ears flushing red. “It’s- she feels different, okay?” His voice was so soft that Ernie and Ben held off from rebutting. Ben squeezed his shoulder with a sigh.
“I don’t get you.” He sighed, standing up and grabbing Ernie’s wrist. “We’ve got to meet McGonagall for Transfig’, need to ask her to extend the due date.”
Ernie gave Cedric a smirk before leaving the trio’s shared dorm with Ben, leaving the prefect there with his thoughts.
Cedric let his head fall into his hands before groaning, tugging lightly at his hair. He’d never been so desperate for someone to talk to him, never. He never had to worry about that kind of thing. If he wanted to talk to someone, there was never any doubt that they’d be glad to talk to him.
But you. Gods, you. It was unfair; cruel, almost— the things you did to his heart, his head, and his sleep. You did it all without even trying, without even thinking of him. Floating in your own world, content in your own bubble.
It felt like he had to prove his worth to you, to prove to you that keeping him around is worth it, that he’s worth it. Worth you. He doubted that you were measuring people’s values and letting them in selectively; you were reserved, he’d gathered that. You relaxed in solitude, in silence.
He’d tried everything in his arsenal, was the most charming he’d ever been, but you still never stayed to exchange more than eight words with him. He couldn’t understand where he was going wrong.
He stood up with a sigh, hands brushing over his robes as if he needed to do something with them lest he were to tug at his own hair again. He walked over to his desk, clipped on his prefect badge, and left his room for his nightly rounds. Maybe it’d distract him. Maybe he’d be occupied.
It’d be the same as always, though. He’d wander around and wonder about you. Were you sleeping? Awake? He felt his heart squeeze, fingers twitching by his sides, before he clenched them into fists.
The most charming boy in school, my arse.
You had a routine, you followed it. You woke up, did your lessons, sat for your meals, and then you spent the rest of your day in the library or in your dorm. What else is a girl to do? You didn’t have anyone to talk to but the same two people, and you couldn’t blame them. You shied away from absolutely everything. Eye contact flustered you to no end, and talking to people felt like having a clock ticking down the seconds, waiting for you to say something that’d horribly embarrass you or make you look like an utter freak. You didn’t know how to talk to people, didn’t know how to keep them interested. It was too much energy to have to assess someone and understand how to talk to them; it became easier to just stop trying, and it felt like it suited you.
Sure, it got lonely, but the silence was comfortable in its predictability, in its presence. There was no suddenness in the solace of your own presence; you were aware. You didn’t have to please anyone, didn’t have to perform. The performance is what truly exhausted you. You knew that not everyone was some narcissist trying to use your shy nature to their advantage, but your mother always told you to be careful. Never be naive, never be easy.
So you turned difficult. Not in the loud way; scowling and scoffing your way through life.
Unknowingly, unconsciously. It became harder to navigate through conversations, and you gave up with the rest of them. You had your own world, your own things to keep you busy. You skipped the parties; the noise and people proved to be more trouble than you ever thought it would be worth.
“Y/n!” Samantha hissed for the fourth time, finally snapping you out of whatever haze you were stuck in, making your cheeks flush. “If I have to repeat all that, I’ll kill you.” She grumbled, frowning now, hands on her hips. You gave her a sheepish smile, leaning back on your four-poster bed, having changed out of your robes and into your pyjamas for the night.
“Sorry, Sam. Go on, something about Arithmacy?” You tried, only to snort at her now offended reaction. “You think I spend my free time talking about Arithmacy?! No! That one bloke from Ravenclaw’s been dodging me for a straight week now! You’d think he’d reject a girl with class.” She hissed, dropping down on the bed next to you with a pained sigh.
“Or maybe just accept he’s not into you,” Shlok said from across the room, currently putting on whatever expensive cream Samantha bought all over his hands, maybe her shoot up and screech at him about it being face cream. “Oh, shut up! Shut up!” She hissed, snatching her cream and pushing him towards the beds.
“He doesn’t seem very nice, Sam.” You murmured delicately, tilting your head towards her as she aggressively sorted through her skin-care products. She was thorough, you had to admit. “Maybe you need a stricter screening process–”
“What I need–” She hissed, marching back into the room, frowning. “Is for Shlok to man up and beat him up on my behalf! What good’s being friends with a bloke if he isn’t going to beat up my shitty flings?!” She huffed, scowling at the boy who simply shrugged behind his glasses. “Can’t say I blame the poor guy, you’re sodding psychotic–” He mused before being crudely attacked by a pillow.
“Y/n! Look at him! Tell him!” You bit back a snicker, covering your mouth as you watched Shlok prepare to launch the cushion back at Samantha. “Maybe you should try dating someone in our house, Sammy. You might meet nicer people. Hufflepuffs are sweet, no?” You offered, making her scowl soften in consideration before she was pummeled by a pillow, followed by Shlok crying out, ‘Take that, devil woman!’
Hufflepuffs are sweet, you repeated to yourself, drowning out the brewing warfare baking in your dorm room. You thought back to nice Hufflepuffs you knew, though you hardly spoke to any of them. Your mind drifted to the one Hufflepuff that seemed to pop up the most. Cedric Diggory.
Obviously, you hadn’t told your friends about him; they’d torment you relentlessly about him. You weren’t daft, you knew of his reputation; the most sought-after boy in all of Hogwarts. Hail Mary of Hufflepuff. He was attractive, charismatic, and at the top of his class. You understood the appeal, yes, but you found it quite confusing as to why people lost themselves over a guy. Attractiveness shouldn’t override basic etiquette, in your opinion. Of course, you were naturally shy. Being around someone so social felt like standing in direct, burning sunlight.
You didn’t understand it, why he spoke to you. Maybe it was a prefect thing; checking up on his house. Maybe it was a popular kid thing, feeling the need to include everyone. You sighed, eyes darting between Samantha and Shlok as they started flinging anything in reach at each other, eliciting a groan from you.
Your eyes moved to the clock on the wall, 9:36 pm. Your curfew began at 10. Without glancing at either of your friends, you smoothed over your pyjamas and slid on your slippers, slipping out od the dorm without interrupting your friends' bickering. You made your way through the common room and out the door, your wand tucked into the waistband of your pyjama pants.
Hogwarts at night was your absolute favourite, though you never really let yourself bask in it, preferring your dorm over all else. You wandered through the halls, avoiding prefects purely out of fear of socialising, not bothering to let your wand light the way, allowing the darkness of the night to envelop you.
After about ten minutes, you felt the consequences of wandering around Hogwarts at night in just your jammies, the cold biting through your thin cotton pyjamas that definitely weren’t built to withstand the tundra air of the castle’s halls. You shivered for the sixth time, your entire body shaking like you’d just been crucio-d. A soft ice-wrapped curse escaped your hushed voice as you rushed down the hall to get back to the dorms before you saw something turn the corner.
To say you handled it with grace would be generous.
For some unfathomable reason, you decided that the next order of action was to cover your face in classic ‘if I can’t see them, they can’t see me’ fashion.
“Y/n?” A soft yet incredibly bemused voice made you lift your head, gaping.
Of fucking course it was him who found you. Who else?
“Diggory.” You mumbled, offering him a polite, tight-lipped smile. He frowned, swallowing down the flutter in his chest erupting from simply seeing you. “You can’t be out here.” He said gently, making you wince. “Gosh, I know, I should’ve brought a scarf or a jacket, I’m never usually this careless—”
“Er, no. I mean, you very literally can’t. Curfew. Prefect. You know?” He said, trying to be as delicate as possible; reprimanding you was incredibly uncomfortable for him. Acting like you weren’t his every waking thought. “Though I do agree it wasn’t very clever to be out here in that.” He said with a soft chuckle, undoing his scarf before stepping forward to offer it to you.
“Merlin, right, sorry.” You said quickly, heat flooding to your cheeks at the sheer embarrassment of assuming, mindlessly taking the scarf in your embarrassment before stilling and offering it back to him. “I-I’m fine. Really. Thanks.” You said quickly, making a frown pull at his lips. “As your prefect,” he started, trying to put extra emphasis on his role as head of house. “I am to make sure my house members are alright. Just wear it for the time being, I can take it from you early morning, that alright?”
You just frowned, not wishing to continue this interaction by arguing. You wrapped the yellow fabric around your neck, it already being heated from having been wrapped around him for maybe the past few hours. With a shudder at the newfound warmth, you looked up at him. “Thanks. Very sorry.” You said quickly, moving to walk past him. “Have a good night–walk–rounds.” You choked out, your heart now racing, eyes on the floor as you practically speed walked away from him, a soft ‘Goodnight’ coming from behind you as you rushed off to your house.
You groaned once you got far enough, pulling the scarf over your nose before getting progressively more flustered at the deep breath of his cologne entering your nose. You felt stupid for running off now; he probably felt offended. Maybe regretted helping you at all.
You felt your heart pound the whole way back, trying rid the interaction from your mind. It was a short one, and maybe if you weren’t in the headspace of eligible Hufflepuffs, you may have been able to. Unfortunately, you couldn’t shake the thought. Cedric was thirsted over by the entire school, you’d never batted an eye before, but his tiny act of generosity or maybe just duty, made you just a tad bit more aware of him, you could say.
Upon entering your dorm, you felt yourself pulled into a smothering hug. “Where did you go?! It’s been an hour?! When did you leave!?” Samantha shrieked, pulling you into the room where Shlok sat on the floor, green facemask on his face. You turned to Samantha to see the same facemask on her aswell. You turned sheepish, letting her sit you down and push your hair away from your face as she applied it on your face.
“Wanted to go on a walk for a bit. Figured I’d be back sooner.” You said softly, shuddering at the cold cream. “Well, you should’ve–” She began before stopping, freezing where she sat. She pulled back, turned around as if to check something before snatching the scarf around your neck. “Who’s is this?!” She shrieked, making Shlok sit up in curiosity. You felt your cheeks burn. “Hey, Sam-”
Shlok snorted and snatched it from Samantha, opening the scarf to find the stitched initials each school garment often has. “Cedric D?” He huffed, brows furrowing before he gasped ever so dramatically, throwing the scarf at Samantha, making her gasp in turn. “Diggory?!” She cried, eyes wide. “Merlin, you’re snogging Diggory–”
“No! No!” You hissed indignantly, snatching the scarf back as heat flooded your face. “He gave me his scarf cause I didn’t have one, and he’s decent!” you went on, though the justification fell on deaf ears as they grinned at each other shamelessly. “You were right!” Shlok huffed, making Samantha giggle in glee.
You could just gape in confusion, moving closer. “Right about what?” You huffed, exasperated. Samantha pulled you closer by the wrist. “Diggory totally likes you!” She squealed, making you frown. You didn’t believe it, the prospect even annoyed you. You hardly ever spoke to the bloke, hardly ever saw him.
“Har har.” You said dryly, deadpanning over to your beaming friends. Shlok snorted, poking your side. “You’ve seriously never noticed how much he stares at you?” He mused, making your frown deepen. That got your attention.
“Stares?” “Stares!”
Samantha put Cedric’s scarf on the table, still buzzing with excitement. “All the time! Every time he’s in the same area as you, he just stares! Shlok thought it was because you’re taking 6th year classes, but I knew it was because—”
“Wait. Wait, no. He can’t possibly!” You protested, your heart picking up again. It was just a scarf, how could it confirm something this massive? “He’s just a gentleman! He was just being nice.”
You gave them an unamused look, which barely changed anything as they promptly ignored your pessimism. Samantha rolled her eyes, shrugging. “He still likes you, Y/n.”
The frown on your face deepened as you crossed your arms over your chest. “Well, in all the times he’d come up to me, he’s never once flirted–”
“Come up to you?! He’s come up to you?!” Shlok basically shrieked.
Oh, the drama.
You winced as they began hammering you with questions about what he’d say, what he’d do. You told them everything, the awkward interactions, and even walked them through tonight’s interaction, word-for-word. By the time you were done, they were positively certain Diggory had it in for you. You still couldn’t believe it, the expression on your face making your disbelief horribly obvious.
“Okay–okay! How about this?” Samantha went on, sitting on the bed. “Maybe don’t instantly run off when you give him his scarf. He wakes up pretty early, no? Just wake up early and sit with him in the common room or something!”
The prospect of talking to him already made you want to collapse and die, but Shlok cut you out of the thought process. “What’s the harm, ey? If he wants to leave, he can just get up and walk off. If he wants to talk, all you’ll have to do is answer questions and sit there in front of a fire.”
That made you consider it, your scowl softening as you weighed the pros and cons. You supposed he was right. You didn’t need to do much; you didn’t even have to initiate anything.
Reluctantly, you parted your lips. “I guess—” “Lovely!” Samantha chirped, pulling you to the bathroom along with Shlok to wipe off the face mask.
A soft laugh left you as you scrubbed the dried cream off your face, Samantha already going off on Shlok for using her face wash as hand wash. You already survived crazy, you figured you could survive sitting near Cedric Diggory.
Saying Cedric woke up was questionable; he wasn’t sure how long he really even spent asleep after his interaction with you. Pathetic, really. He was near you for about five minutes, and it was all he could think about— how you looked in the darkness, bathed in nothing but moonlight. How his bigger scarf looked around your shoulders, warming your nose. How your eyes looked in the dark, the way his last name sounded, wrapped in your tongue.
Those thoughts followed him since he woke up at the ass crack of dawn, 5 am. He didn’t know why, but he preferred the quiet lull of the early morning, the ability to go to the kitchen, request the house-elves a personalised breakfast, and just sit before the fire for about an hour till everyone else began to wake up. No rush to get ready, no drowsiness in class, and he’d always be exhausted by eleven. Win-win.
He made his way downstairs from the boys dormitories, rubbing one end of the towel around his shoulder onto his damp hair moving across the common room before a figure in front of the fireplace made him do a double take.
You.
And by Merlin, if seeing you didn’t make his heart falter in his chest.
“Y/n?” He said softly, his voice rough from sleep. He neared the couches around the fire, looking as you nervously turned your head to smile towards him. “G’morning, Diggory.” You said in turn, his heart fluttering at the way the early morning softened your face.
He grinned widely, rounding the couch to sit beside you, tilting his head towards you. Still in yesterday’s pyjamas, but your hair was a bit tidier, as if you’d brushed it one too many times, and now you had a chunky Hufflepuff sweater on as well. Nevertheless, he still found you hopelessly endearing. He hoped he wasn’t giving himself away with how pathetically he was looking at you. “Morning, love. You’re up early, aren’t you?”
You flustered, hands tightening around his scarf, which you had sitting in your lap. You looked down at it, then him, offering it up. “Scarf. Your scarf. Here–Here’s your scarf.” You mumbled, making his heart swell as he reached for it, tying it around your neck. Bold move, he knew; at this point, however, he was hellbent on making sure you took a liking to him. “It’s cold this early, y’know? How about you keep it for a bit longer? I’ll snag it once you get yours on.” He said with a soft smile, his fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary before pulling back.
You felt your face grow hot as you squirmed away from him before nodding stiffly. “Thanks.”
He wet his lips, eyes softening at your shyness. He’s never really been this close to you before, it knocked the breath from him. “I.. don’t really see you at parties often. Not your scene?” He asked softly, making you shake your head.
“Bit loud for my taste,” you admitted, turning to look at him. “Hate being surrounded in strangers, y’know?” He didn’t. He’d never really been in a situation where he didn’t know someone enough to speak to them, but he nodded nevertheless.
“What is your scene, then?” He prodded, running a hand through his half-dried hair. He wasn’t expecting much out of you, given your introvertedness, so when he saw the way your eyes lit up; it felt like the world had stopped spinning for just a beat.
“The library.” You said, smiling softly. He thought you’d stop there, go back to tugging at your sleeves.
Boy, was he wrong.
“There’s a section, near the back but not in the restricted section, because I know we can’t go back there. A lot of old books no one ever reads are tucked back there. I don’t read them either, really. Mainly biographies of old magic folk who created very popular spells and whatnot, but I sit there a lot. By myself, mostly. I like my friends, I really like them, but I often sit there and not talk and read.” You rambled, talking quickly as if you were scared he might get up and walk off mid-monologue. “—so the books I do read are mainly thrillers these days. I wore out the romance section last year, but I hear they’re going to add to the collection soon! In the meantime, through, I’ve been reading ‘Following Ms. Brighton’ and—”
Cedric sat there in stunned silence, his eyes slowly filling with more and more adoration as you began to explain the entire plot of the book, chapter by chapter, thoroughly, to him. Admittedly, he’d never been the thrilled type, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t cling to your every word like there’d be a quiz on it later.
He didn’t notice that he was smiling until you told him the ending, wetting your lips as you realised you’d been rambling for nearly thirty minutes. “It sounds amazing,” he said softly, watching the way you averted your gaze, flustering. “Do you have it? Could I borrow it?” he continued, making you nearly gasp before you beamed, nodding furiously. “F’course! It’s great, I’m sure you’d like it! I think more people should give it a read, honestly,” you told him, picking at your sleeve.
His heart fluttered as a soft, breathy laugh left him. “Merlin, you’re sweet.” He mumbled, eyes soft with a type of fondness that merged into unadulterated adoration. Your smile softened at the compliment, looking at the fire. “You’re nice, too. Thanks for listening,” you murmured over the crackle of the hearth.
He simply nods, gazing at your side profile for a bit longer before catching himself and leaning back on the couch. “Yeah, ‘course. Anytime,” he meant it, he really did. There’s nothing he’d love to listen to more than your incessant ramblings about books and plots and portrayals of modern society. The sheer joy that filled your face at being able to talk about something you enjoyed would stay in his heart and his head for weeks.
The two of you sat in silence from thereon. Relaxing into the quiet of the warm common room. He liked it, being quiet with you. He knew you’d like it too, if he gathered anything about you; silence was your thing. You stared at the fire like it was whispering secrets in the form of smoke, and you wished to decipher it. He kept staring at you, tracing the lines of your face, the curve of your neck; every twitch your fingers made was noted in his mind, as a mental list of things you couldn’t control yet drove him crazy.
It stayed like that, the warm silence. Neither broke it; neither wanted to.
The past few weeks upcoming Yule ball felt different, fuller almost.
You’d seen Cedric around more often, practically every single day. Always getting a chance to sit with you in the evenings after classes, you even began waking up earlier just to be near him in the mornings.
Samantha and Shlok noticed, of course, they did. They didn’t react how you think they would, though. They didn’t blow it up or try to embarrass you, they’d just grin whenever you came back from hanging out with him. The lack of teasing helped you melt away the awkwardness, the nervousness.
Today was an exception. You hadn’t seen him at all.
Usually on Saturdays, he’s more visible, pulling his Quidditch team to practice in the mornings; you’d always catch sight of them. You didn’t today. Not at breakfast, nor during lunch.
It bothered you, a small bundle of nerves building in your lower belly. You squirmed your way through Hogsmeade, and now you were letting Samantha and Shlok ramble on and on about their Yule ball dates. You caught the gist of it. Something, something, twink. Something, something, muscles.
You were too busy worrying about Cedric. What if he were sick? Sad? He’d become part of your daily, his absence felt like a rift in the balance. A shift in the force. A disruption of your carefully crafted routine.
It didn’t take long till Shlok was tugging you up to pull you out of the dorm along with Sam as they decided to sneak out of the castle and sit in the courtyard. You let him without protest, too wrapped up in your own spiralling. You guessed they saw how intense you looked and decided fresh air and stars were just what the doctor ordered.
They tugged you along, through the quiet halls and past lingering prefects and professors till you reached the courtyard.
You heard them mumble something about getting snacks from the kitchen, making you sigh and walk over to the fountain in the middle of the stone courtyard, sitting at the edge in wait.
The sound of the wind and the silence made the biting cold in your face subside. You were dressed warmly this time, at least; drowning in a chunky grandpa sweater and the baggiest wool pants you could find. The sounds of winter were rudely interrupted by approaching footsteps, making you ruffle your hair a bit.
“Hey, Sam, you got me those pretzels I like, right—”
“Hi.”
Your head whipped around so fast you swore you heard your neck crack. You knew that voice. You hadn’t heard it all day.
And there that voice was, dressed in a rather hideous jumper and dark loose-fit jeans, a bouquet of flowers that thankfully weren’t roses in his hand, the other nervously running through his infuriatingly perfect hair.
His smile made something melt inside you; your bones felt liquid as you stood from where you sat at the fountain. “Cedric. Hi–hi.” you mumbled, completely bewildered. His grin both widened and softened and it did horrible things to your heart.
“Sorry for doing this in the snow. Out here.” He said softly, walking up to you, cheeks flushed because of the cold and the way your eyes were bugging out of their sockets in pure shock. The cogs in your head were turning incredibly slowly.
“I’m sorry, doing what?” You breathed as he took both your hands in his one, still holding the bouquet in the other. Your breathing suddenly turned manual as you looked up at him in the soft moonlit glow of the courtyard.
His eyes softened with something impossibly fond, looking at your awestruck expression. “You make me feel stupid sometimes, you know? My tongue feels like it stops working whenever you look at me like that. Like I’ve hung the stars.”
A soft breathless laugh left him and made your heart swell. He offered you the flowers; you took them. “You can say no,” he continued, tilting his head ever so slightly. “I won’t throw a fit, I swear. I know I’m a champion and it’ll be a lot of pressure to be my date because of the champion’s dance and—”
“Cedric.” “Right, right, right. Sorry.”
His cheeks flushed red, one hand still holding yours, the other stuffed in the pocket of his jeans. “I’d love it if you’d go to the Yule ball with me.” He whispered, eyes peering into yours with an intensity that, for once, didn’t overwhelm you. “Would you like to?”
Your chest felt fuzzy, blinking stupidly up at him like your brain hadn’t quite caught on before you gasped. “Oh, yeah! Yes, yeah!” You sputtered, lips widening into a wide grin as a soft squeal left you. You hopped up and down in joy before throwing your hands around his neck.
Cedric wrapped his arms around your waist, stuffing his face into your shoulder as he let out a long, shuddering sigh. “Fucking hell, you terrify me.” He breathed into your sweater, making you giggle.
Being around someone so social and extroverted made you feel like you were standing in direct, burning sunlight.
I’m the daredevil anon! So if it’s Alr can I use 😈?? Also another quick question 🙋♀️ what about a cyclopsbatsisreader x Batfam?? Cyclops being a mutant, in Gotham, as the child of Batman, but said Batman hates having metas and I’d assume mutants. There’s just so many good characters I can see being amazing as the reader but also with your writing and how amazing it is!
Really excited for the next update I reread the spidey series a few times already, and love everything about it. One of the best
Hello!! it's more than okay for u to use the devil emoji <333
OMGG I LOVE CYCLOPS AND THIS IDEAAA!1!1! I've also been thinking of Wanda!reader honestly... TYSM FOR UR SUPPORT ON THE SERIESSS
Description: When Johnny is sent to investigate suspicious steam coming out of a sewer, he doesn’t expect a woman from another dimension to climb out of it. You look at him like he’s your knight in shining armor, and he realizes very soon you possess the ability to completely derail his life.
Inspired on the movie Enchanted ✨
Tags/Warnings: whimsy!reader, fluff, humor, cheeky references to other characters and universes, yearner!johnny being down bad for women out of this world.
Notes: I’ve been feeling whimsy lately and it’s all thanks to my dear @vividxpages, so this one is dedicated to her 🤍 I’ve also missed writing our dramatic prince Johnny, and ended up giggling a lot while writing this. Enjoy 🫶🏼
Masterlist
Johnny had just walked out of the shower when his Fantastic Watch™ beeped. Wrapped in only a towel from the waist down, he steamed the remaining water off his body as he reached for it.
‘Steam rising from a sewer system detected in Midtown, please go check it out – Reed.’
He chuckled. The situation seemed a little bit dramatic to call a whole superhero, but Johnny Storm never missed a public appearance if the opportunity arose. He quickly got dressed in his blue suit, making sure his hair was fully dry before smiling to his reflection, and stepping out into the living room.
Ben, who was reading a book on one of the large couches, watched Johnny stroll to the kitchen island to snatch a fresh Maisie’s cookie from the batch H.E.R.B.I.E was putting on a tray, giving him a little pet in the process.
“Hey, J,” Ben called, just as Johnny reached the balcony and burst into flames. “If you find anything weird down there, try not to flirt with it,” he teased without looking up, and a robotic giggle was heard from the kitchen.
Traitor, Johnny thought, narrowing his eyes at Herbert.
Ben thought he was so smug ever since the whole Herald fiasco. But Johnny, ever the sweet summer boy, just gave him a pearly white condescending smile before finally taking off into the night.
A few minutes later, Johnny lands in the middle of a street in Times Square, where traffic has stopped and a crowd has gathered around a rattling sewer lid. There’s indeed thick white clouds coming out of it, and Johnny can feel the high temperature as he lands next to them.
People gasp when they see him, then cheer and whistle because salvation has arrived.
‘Human torch!’ ‘What’s happening?’ ‘I told the mayor he needed to check on the system ages ago!’
“Alright everyone, back up,” he puts on a smile, shooing people away with his arms. “I got it covered–”
A loud metal sound makes him turn around, and the manhole cover blasts upward landing on top of a car nearby with a loud crash. People scream and scatter away, and Johnny flames on instantly, absorbing all the heat that pours out of it.
The white steam subsides, replaced by some lilac, glittering particles that make Johnny cough a few times, swatting at it with his gloved hands. Once Johnny can see clearly again–or maybe not–he notices there’s something peeking out.
Is that…a hand?
A hand comes out to grab the edge of the sewer, but he sees no claws or scales or weirdly colored skin, no…it’s a woman’s hand wrapped in delicate lace gloves. Then the other hand comes out, clearly trying to prop themselves up.
Johnny’s fire dies when he sees no imminent danger, and he frowns at the small coughs coming from inside, stepping closer to see when something finally emerges from the sewer.
You emerge.
“Oof,” you say, using all your strength to climb out of…whatever you were in.
The puffy white gown you’re wearing spreads around you as your heels finally touch the ground, layers upon layers of sparkling fabric drag through the glittery pavement when you straighten yourself up. You brush away dust from your giant skirt, too lost in your own world to notice that the crowd around you has gone dead silent, and Johnny looks flat out bewildered.
That is, until a car blasts its horn, making you jump so hard you almost fall back into the sewer.
Strong, warm arms wrap around your waist, catching you immediately. You yelp, clinging to your savior, and that’s when your eyes finally meet. Your breath hitches, but all you needed was one look to that perfect blonde hair and those bright blue eyes to exhale in relief.
“Oh, thank goodness!” you say giddily, “Is this the Barbie Kingdom?”
Johnny doesn’t answer because quite frankly, what the fuck?
You don’t seem to mind, your melodic voice keeps spilling out excitedly. “My bad, Ken. I know it’s not a kingdom anymore! That democracy thing you have going on is spectacular, I really admire–” your enthusiasm dies out a little when your eyes dart around, realizing there’s zero pink in this place, only strangers, a bunch of weird colored lights, and the guy you’re holding onto for dear life is looking at you like you’re insane. “But this…doesn’t look like Barbieland,” you add with a nervous laugh. “Are you…a prince?”
Barbieland. A prince?
(I mean, he’ll take the compliment, but ????)
Johnny’s confused gaze darts all over your face, then down to your dress. A wedding dress. There are actual sparkles woven into it, and he’s sure your skirt alone weighs more than him. The white fabric is pristine and you smell like flowers, not like you just crawled out of a sewer.
And you just called him Ken. Thank God Ben is not here.
“Umm, kind sir?” You snap him out of his trance, still gripping his forearms. “Can you please tell me what kingdom is this?”
He looks at you, then at the crowd that’s just as confused as him, before replying hesitantly.
“...Manhattan?” He says, and it does very little to calm you down. He clears his throat, finally releasing you from his grip so you feel more comfortable. “You can call me Johnny, by the way,” he says, giving you his best trademark smile.
You smile back at him, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.
“Well, Johnny of Manhattan,” you say, wrapping your arms around yourself and trying to avoid making eye contact with the people whispering around you, and the noise of those weird metal boxes with wheels. “Do you know Andalasia?”
Even with all the extensive space knowledge Johnny possesses, he can’t really point out a place in the universe named like that.
“Is that your planet?” He asks, making you chuckle softly. Johnny delights in the sound, he feels like any moment now birds will wake up to surround you and start chirping.
“It’s my world,” you say, your voice turning more nostalgic now. “I was meant to marry The Bat Prince Edward today, my Eddie, and now I’ve fallen into this terrible place...”
“…Right.”
Johnny tries to consider all options.
Maybe you hit your head? Or you were some junkie? A very dedicated theater kid? Method actor? Or maybe, crazy idea, you were telling the truth. He doesn’t get much time to dwell on it because your laced gloved hand suddenly reaches for his.
“Please, can you help me go back?” You ask desperately.
Johnny looks where your hands meet, and decides to ignore the creeping blush on his face and the intrusive thoughts. She’s engaged. She’s probably crazy. But she’s so beautiful–no! Stop it, Johnny.
The last time he had a crush on a woman that showed up unannounced on his planet, things had not ended well.
“I know someone who might,” is all he says, avoiding your eyes. Since when does Johnny Storm get shy?
You squeal immediately, practically leaping into his chest to give him a hug he certainly wasn’t expecting. Johnny laughs surprised, trying not to get lost in your sweet perfume. A white flash suddenly blinds you, and your eyes widen in panic at the crowd closing in.
‘Johnny, who is she?’ ‘Another Herald?’ ‘Is this for a movie?”
Without thinking you cling tighter to Johnny, who you’ve decided is the only person you can trust in this weird place, and that does something alarming to his stupid little heart. Red flag, red flag–whatever, he decides to step up to the role, shielding you from the photographers.
“Alright, show’s over everybody!” He announces with a smile, never losing that golden boy persona, before turning back to you. “Okay, princess, you’re coming with me,” he says, pointing upward.
“...How?” You ask, staring up at the sky with a frown.
“You just hold on, and try not to scream,” he winks at you, and before you can react he’s picking you up bridal style, bunching the skirt of your dress so it’s not on the way. “I’ll try not to scorch it, but no promises.”
“Scorch it? What do you mea–oh my god…”
The night sky glows with fire coming out of this man’s body, as he flies you across the Manhattan realm. Truth to be told, coming from a world of magic and curses, this may not be the craziest thing that has ever happened to you.
You land on the balcony of a tower that looks absolutely nowhere near the ones made of stone back home. And thank the universe you’re too busy gawking at the view, because Johnny is able to sneakily pat the ends of your dress that caught on a few flames without you noticing.
“Oh wow…” you whisper, placing your gloved hands on the railing, overwhelmed by all the movement and lights and floating things. “Your world is strange, Johnny of Manhattan,” you laugh softly.
Johnny chuckles, and wow, this is not what he thought his night would be like. But then you gasp, pointing at the sky.
“We have the same moon!” You exclaim, placing your elbow on the railing and your cheek on your palm as you stare longingly at the sky. “Don’t you like it, Johnny? Knowing she’s always there?”
Johnny smiles, but he’s not sure it’s because of the celestial body he’s admired since he was a little boy, or the way you seem completely mesmerized by it.
“I’ve always loved her,” Johnny says fondly, stepping next to you with both hands on the railing, but he doesn’t look up. His eyes stay on you. He watches you sigh dreamily, and it makes him smirk. “Is this the part where we start singing about our heart’s wishes?”
“What? Noo,” you chuckle, without taking your eyes off the moon. “It just means home must be close if we can see the same stars…”
Right, home. Johnny forces himself to take his eyes off you, and as he peeks inside the empty living room, he notices Ben is no longer there. Perfect.
“Come on, let’s go inside, princess,” he says, and you turn to him with a smile.
He bows to let you go first, and you do a little bow in return. Your enormous skirt barely manages to cross the threshold with a few tugs. The black fabric at the ends, courtesy of the human torch, drags across the carpeted floors as you slowly take in every detail. He guides you into a big metal box, and presses a panel. You extend your arms for balance as the thing begins going up all of a sudden.
“Fascinating,” you whisper.
Johnny watches you with a smile and pride blooming in his chest. The Baxter Building is a marvel even for normal people, to you? It must be mind blowing. The innocent awe in your face makes Johnny feel that familiar flutter of butterflies in his stomach he hasn’t felt in a long time.
Bad Johnny.
“Okay, number one rule,” he clears his throat, compensating by the thing he does best: joking. “We’re going into the ogre’s swamp, so you’re better off not touching anything.”
He feels proud of it, at least until you look at him horrified and recoil in fear.
“An ogre? Oh no no no no…” you shake your head, reaching for the panel and pressing it frantically until the thing stops moving. “I don’t like those, absolutely not.”
“No, wait, sorry,” Johnny apologizes. “It was just a joke. We’re going to my brother in law’s lab, and he’s a bit…particular,” he explains, and only presses the button to keep going up when you nod. “Just uh…follow my lead, and you’ll be fine,” he says, when the elevator comes to a stop.
He stretches his neck, bouncing slightly on his feet and giving himself a small pep talk you can’t really understand. Then the doors open to another colorful, open place that makes your eyes go wide. Johnny strolls in first, and you follow behind like an anxious lost puppy.
“Reed!” he calls out dramatically, to a figure leaning over a counter. “I bring gifts from my mission!”
The man–not ogre, thank the stars–Reed, doesn’t even look up from what he’s doing. His intention to ignore Johnny doesn't last long though, because he hears a pair of heels clicking on the floor that definitely don’t belong to his brother in law. He lifts his gaze, and his eyes immediately land on you.
“Why is there a bride in my lab?” He deadpans, looking at you up and down. “For the love of God, Jonathan, don’t tell me you–”
“Uh-uh,” Johnny cuts him off, holding a finger in the air before spreading his arms in a flourish to gesture at you. “I present to you: the steaming sewer.”
“Hiii!” You smile politely, waving at Reed. “Are you the ruler of this realm?”
Reed now looks at Johnny, exasperation written all over his face. “Explain yourself.”
“She came out of the sewer,” Johnny shrugs, looking too smug for his own good. “Dress and all.”
“I did,” you nod enthusiastically, not really helping at all.
Reed sighs, rubbing his eyes with the tips of his fingers, but by the time he opens them again, you’ve already wandered to one of his old models with a curiosity that reminds him of his own son.
“Oooh, what’s this?” You ask, reaching for a red lever.
“No, don’t touch–“
You gasp in delight as the lights flicker when you pull on it, but Johnny catches your hand just in time before you pull the whole thing and cut the power of the entire building. He gently guides you away from the counters, smiling apologetically at Reed’s resting bitch face.
Ogre, indeed.
The doors of the metal box you arrived in open again, and a woman storms in carrying a child in her arms. He doesn’t even look a year old.
“Not only are you working late, but you’re messing with the power while I’m trying to put Franklin to bed and I–” The woman stops in his tracks when she sees you standing in the middle of the lab. Her eyes go to Johnny, and she only has to raise her eyebrows for him to look like a scolded child.
“Sue, I can explain. Don’t panic, she’s just a–”
“Pwincess!” The baby in her arm babbles, clapping his little hands together.
You coo at the baby, but stay put where you are, not wanting to crowd the woman narrowing her eyes at you. You gather the fabric of your dress and give them a little curtsy.
“Thank you, little bean. But I’m not a princess yet,” you say, pressing one hand to your chest.
Sue notices the way you clutch the fabric of your dress nervously, and curiosity gets the best of her.
“Did you escape from your wedding?” She asks, but there’s no real malice behind it.
“I didn’t escape,” you shake your head, looking down to the floor. “I believe someone may have tried to kill me and I ended up here instead.”
“Oh honey,” her expression softens, not entirely sure why she believes you’re harmless to her family. At least at this moment.
Johnny does, and he sighs, because now you’ve activated Sue’s mom instincts. How is he supposed to not get attached?
At least she won’t be telling him to kill you.
“Where exactly did Johnny find you, sweetheart?” She asks, bouncing little Franklin on her hip.
“Johnny says it’s called a sewer!”
Sue just nods, looking between Reed and Johnny but the latter just smiles with a shrug. A sudden blue light washes over you, but before you can panic Johnny shows you it’s coming from a little device Reed is hunching over.
“He’s just scanning you to see how we can help,” Johnny explains reassuringly, and you nod as the light keeps going all over you.
“Fascinating,” Reed says after a few minutes, walking away from the thingy to circle you. “No traces of chemical intoxication. Her body has adapted to survive in our environment, but her clothing fibers are unlike anything I’ve seen on this planet.”
“Oh! My dress was hand sewn with the help of my friends. Mouses and rabbits are very talented when it comes to special fabrics,” you say matter of factly.
“Mouses and rabbits.” Reed repeats and you nod happily. Jesus Christ.
“H.E.R.B.I.E told me you were all here. What’s going on?” A new voice echoes across the lab as the doors open again. ”Uhh, is Johnny getting married and didn’t tell us?”
You turn around to see a tall man made out of orange rocks and your shoulders sag in relief. Finally, someone normal around here. But before you can ask him if he knows how to get to your kingdom, Reed is already gesturing for him.
“Perfect timing, Ben. Team gathering. Now.”
Ben obeys, following him without taking his eyes off you. Sue walks past you, and Franklin giggles when he tries to grab one of your puffy sleeves and fails. Reed motions them deeper into the lab, and Johnny walks backwards to look at you.
“Don’t touch anything,” he mouths, and your eyes drift immediately towards another lever device on the counter. “Especially that!” He whisper-shouts, and you nod innocently, clasping your hands behind your back.
He flashes you a grin before jogging to meet the others, who are already explaining the situation to Ben. You can hear the whispering, but you can’t really make out what they’re saying, so you distract yourself with your own dress.
On the far corner of the lab…
“She came out of a sewer, and you believe she’s a princess?” Ben asks, biting back a smile as he watches Johnny roll his eyes.
“She could be delusional. Experimenting a psychological episode perhaps.” Reed says.
“Then why didn’t your scans show anything?” Johnny crosses his arms.
Reed hesitates, because the machine may not show physical abnormalities, but your mental state is a different thing.
“My love?” Reed asks the person he trusts the most in the room.
“She looks harmless,” Sue shrugs, shifting Franklin who’s starting to fall asleep on her shoulder.
“She is harmless,” Johnny says immediately.
“You've known her for like twenty minutes,” Ben teases.
“Yeah, and in those twenty minutes she’s been overwhelmed, yet polite enough to ask for our help. After all we’ve seen lately, I think we’re safe–just…look at her.”
They all glance back.
You’re standing exactly where Johnny left you, carefully lifting the edge of your gown and gasping in visible distress when you notice it has turned black.
“Oh no…my dress…”
Johnny mentally slaps himself when you look at the singed fabric with a sad face. Okay, maybe flying in flames while carrying a hundred pounds of magical tulle had been a bad idea.
“So who’s the lucky fella?” Ben whispers, nudging his arm to get his attention.
Johnny takes a second too long to take his eyes away from you, before turning back to the group with the answer.
“She said she was marrying some prince named Eddie,” Johnny explains, trying to sound as casual as possible. “But I don’t trust him, what if he’s the one who sent her away?”
“Or…maybe you just want to steal his bride,” Ben says without hesitation, making Sue snort. Even Reed’s mouth twitches.
Johnny groans, stepping back to point between them defensively.
“No, no, no. I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong! Absolutely wrong,” he defends himself, but his family has the audacity to laugh in his face.
“Johnny–”
“No! This isn’t another Shalla-bal situation,” he insists, crossing his arms. “That was months ago. Besides, can you really blame me? She was gorgeous.”
“And do you think the princess is gorgeous?” Sue asks with a knowing smile.
He glances at you once again, and it’s a bad idea, because Herbert has rolled into the room too and now you are bending slightly so you can pet his weird head. You were actually petting him. The droid is complimenting your dress, and you thank him giddily because you somehow understand what he’s saying.
“I fear the gown may be ruined, though,” you add with a small laugh.
“It still looks pretty on you,” Johnny blurts out loudly from his spot.
You straighten up to look at him, and your flustered face makes it difficult for him to not smile like a lovesick puppy. What the hell is happening to him?
When he turns back around, everyone is staring at him. Johnny closes his eyes with a grimace, sighing.
“I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”
“I say you’re toast already,” Ben says, amused, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Good thing you can handle some heat–“
“I’m not handling any heat–“
“Alright!” Reed shuts them up. “Until we understand what happened, we can’t exactly send her anywhere,” Reed says, exhaling in defeat.
That makes Johnny perk up immediately with a smile that’s nothing but trouble.
“So we’re keeping her?” He says.
“We are letting her stay temporarily because she clearly needs help,” Sue corrects, giving him a warning look. “And you are going to behave.”
“Yes, absolutely!” Johnny nods, way too fast and completely unconvincing. Sue narrows her eyes at him. “Your mistrust wounds me, sister. I’m always on my best behavior.”
She glares at him one last time, before gesturing with her head at the group to walk back to you. She notices H.E.R.B.I.E has stuck to your side, and seems to be charmed by you as much as Johnny is. Which is another positive point in your favor.
“You can stay with us until we figure things out,” Sue says with a reassuring smile. “We’ll do our best to find your home.”
Your eyes go wide, the relief washing your face makes you look even brighter. Johnny has to keep himself from clutching his chest dramatically.
“Oh, I’m eternally grateful to all of you,” you say, lifting the fabric once again to do a full curtsy. “But especially to you, Johnny of Manhattan, because you were the one to trust me enough to bring me to your castle,” you add with a smile, straightening up and walking toward him to pressing a soft kiss on his warm cheek.
Johnny stills on his spot as your lips delicately graze his skin, before you pull apart a walk alway like nothing happened. His hand lifts instinctively to touch the spot you kissed, and this time his family’s snickers are inevitable.
Maybe Ben was right. Maybe he’s toast. Burned toast.
As he watches you obliviously hum a little tune for Franklin, who’s drooling away on Sue’s shoulder, acceptance hits him like a train.
He was absolutely doomed the second you climbed out of that sewer.
Thank you for reading this small fairytale! Feedback is always appreciated 💗🦇
I randomly came across your spidey!batsib!reader and just binge read it in one go. It’s addicting for me.I check if you have updated daily!
I noticed that the fic is inspired by the amazing spider man ( or atleast a part of it is ). I was wondering how the batfam and harry mainly would try to comfort reader in the next chap or would the reader be even able to let them in. How would Jason react, ( since we know that he had been stalking them)?
How will the reader react with the guilt of having uncle Ben dying cause of their reckless action?
I had been pondering on these questions for a while now so I am hoping that the next chap will quench my thirst of getting to know how it would play out.
I just absolutely adore your fic and even the tony fic too! Your writing style is also what makes it all the more addicting to read it.
HAI ANONNN THANK YOU!!! the next upload would be a double upload (hopefully) aandd you'll get your answers soon enough :PP
