TikTok: Impossiblyodair

percy’s journalist p.2

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a/n: this is an old request!! i’m just going through my inbox and completing ones i may have overlooked 🩷🩷 keep sending requests 🩷🩷🩷 should i make this a series hehehe. allllllsoooo!!!! just a short one!!!! my next fics will be more lengthy (ahem… like percy ;)) this is just a little teaser 🫦🫦

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“you look even more stunning than you do at the rink.” percy mused as he looked at you from across the table in the restaurant he had taken you to.

i chuckled and brushed a soft strand of hair out of your face with a fond smile. “it’s the lighting.” you gestured to the low lighting and candles.

percy shook his head, smiling as he admired you. “it’s the girl.” he corrected.

“is that one of the lines you use with all of your girls?” you rolled your eyes and opted to hide your blush in you wine glass, taking a loooong sip.

“what girls?” he smirked and raised a brow. “you say that as if i’m some sort of…”

“fuck boy?” you offered with a snicker.

“yeah, something like that.” percy chuckled as he ran a hand through he ran a hand through his hair- which seemed to be in a constant state of disarray- and leaned back in his chair. and- oh god- manspread. “i’m not. by the way. a fuck boy that is. despite what they say.”

“no?”

“no.” he sat back up to lean over his pasta and take a bite. “i’m not.” he smiled, covering his mouth as he chewed.

“well.” you leaned for your own dinner. “i suppose i should be glad to hear it.”

“why?” percy rested his elbows on the dinner table. “what’ve you heard, baby?”

baby.

baby?!

oh. oh okay.

“well, you know what tmz says.” you attempted at a cool tone. not looking up at him as you are your food.

“no, i don’t, matter of fact. i don’t read the tabloids.” he gave that lopsided grin you could see in your peripheral. “tell me.”

you chewed. trying to figure out a way to phrase this. “that blonde girl? they always see you with her so they’ve kind of assumed she’s some kind of… uhh… side chick?” you offered a sheepish look when you finally looked up at him.

and he burst out laughing.

“side chick?” percy nearly choked on his water. “no no. she’s my best friend. since we were like twelve. nothing romantic or sexual i can assure you.”

“oh.” you gulped. “right. okay.” nodding and looking back at your plate.

“you’re always looking at me when i’m on the ice.” he mused with a teasing tilt of his lips. “but now, that broccoli seems awfully interesting to you.”

you glared up at him through your lashes playfully. “you, shut up.”

“whatever you say, sweet girl.”

˚౨ৎ⋆｡ ˚⋆꒰  sparkle sparkle ꒱ ⋆ ˚⋆౨ৎ˚

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

percy soothes

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a/n: omgomgomg i’m soso happy to be back!! i’m currently in the midst of going through my inbox and beginning drafts so requests are always welcome 💓💓💓

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“baby, baby…” percy murmured as his girlfriend woke him up by curling into his side in cabin 3. “c’mere… w’s the matter?” his voice thick with sleep.

you sniffled and whimpered, draping a thigh over his hips. “s-same dream a-again.” you nuzzled his chest.

“aw, sweet girl.” he whispered into your hair. he knew that dream. the one where percy broke up with you and left. despite how many times you had this nightmare, it never failed to stab you right on the heart. “you came all the way across camp?”

you whined softly and nodded as you clung to him.

he sighed softly and drew the blankets up ober you a little. “shoulda called me, sea bunny.” he murmured ever so softly (that softness only you ever heard) as he smoothed a hand down your thigh.

“m’sorry. knew you’d be s-sleeping…” you fisted his sweats at the waistband, attempting to pull him closer, only to elicit another reaction from your boyfriend.

“f-fuck-” he let out a broken groan and covered your hands with his quickly. “baby- don’t do that please-” he knew now was not the time to be getting a hard on. his fragile, weeping girl in his arms? yeah… not really when you want to be getting aroused.

“sorry…” you mumbled and opted for wrapping your arms around his bare waist.

percy buried his face in your hair and stroked you back and thigh. muttering something suspiciously close to ‘jesus christ…’

he began thinking of anything- anything- to get rid of the raging boner you had given him by the slightest of touches. because damn. you could do anything and percy was raring to go.

“sweetheart.” he mumbled, he voice lower now, wincing slightly. aching. “i’m so so sorry, baby- but you might have to give me a second-”

you cut him off with a firm shake of your head and flattened your front against his. you needed to be close right now.

“h-holy hera, sweet girl.” percy borderline choked. “alright, alright.” he murmured and allowed you to press yourself- specifically your hips- against a certain appendage, that absolutely should not be receiving any pressure right now.

“mm?” you whined softly as you trailed your hand down his bicep to his wrist, bringing his larger hand to your chest.

“baby…” he bit his lip, trying so so hard to resist his urges :(

he allowed you to place his hand on your chest and began circling your sensitive peak with his thumb. “tell me what you need.” he murmured as he pressed his forehead to yours, already breathing raggedly.

you shuddered and mumbled against his lips. “make me feel better.”

“gods of olympus.” percy cursed under his breathe. “you got it. whatever you want, whatever you want.” he muttered, almost dazed with lust, and slipped his other hand under the elastic of your fluffy pyjama pants.

you both lay facing each other as he groaned against your lips, discovering you soaking wet and ready. “oh, gods, babe…” percy muttered as he parted your folds, gathering your wetness, earning a whimper from you.

he traced small, agonisingly slow circles around your clit as your hands found his shoulders, holding on for dear life as his other hand felt on you breast.

“that’s my girl.” he murmured, rewarding you with a faster pace. drawing tight, quicker touches.

as soon as he heard you breathe hitch, he slipped his fingers lower and pressed his two fingers into your entrance, you gasp quietly.

percy was damn good with his hands.

his thumb found that bundle of nerves while his fingers slowly pumped in and out just so, caressing that perfect spot.

“percy…” you mumbled at the slow pace.

“i gotchu, sweet girl.” he kissed the bridge of your nose as he sped up just a little.

percy knew all of your favourite spots:

- those sensitive rosy peaks? already handled.

- clit? thumb was working you.

- inside? already pressing that certain spot.

“mm? like that?” he purred quietly in your ear, raspy. a rapid, eager nod from you. “mhm… thought so. gotta take care of my girl, hm?” your boyfriend nibbled your ear, flicking his tongue in that way that made your pulse jump.

“perce…” you whined again quietly. just a little more.

“i know, baby, i know…” he cooed, both thumbs stroking their respective spots as he curled his fingers in that way.

you gasped. he grinned in the dim light.

“atta girl.” percy pecked your cheekbone as he sped up, thrusting his fingers so much so he felt a cramp forming in his wrist. no matter when it came to making his girl feel good.

“gonna come on my fingers?” he traced his tongue around the shell of your ear, and, god, if that wasn’t the hottest thing ever.

“mhm-” you whined as your back arched and your hips twitched into his divine hands.

he groaned as he felt your clench around his fingers. percy slowed his pace to ride out your orgasm and kissed your cheekbone softly. “so good f’me…” he praised as looked up at him with those post-pleasure eyes.

he slowly, so slowly and gently, slid his fingers out of you and brought them to his mouth. and sucked. and licked the taste of you from his fingers. “so sweet.” he whispered.

˚౨ৎ⋆｡ ˚⋆꒰  sparkle sparkle ꒱ ⋆ ˚⋆౨ৎ˚

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

꒰ — 𝐚 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛 — ꒱

“Blimey, how did this even happen?” Enzo Berkshire whispered from the entrance of the Slytherin Common Room, his eyebrows furrowed at the sight across the room.

“I don’t think even they know, mate,” Blaise Zabini said, the stone entrance wall shutting behind where he stood transfixed, his dark-brown eyes locked on the two entangled dozers.

You and Theodore Nott had both skipped out on dinner for the night, opting instead to work on the Potions essay Snape had assigned the pair of you — which you had both conveniently pushed off for weeks, and immediately regretted once you saw the workload that had been assigned.

Your identical copies of Advanced Potion Making lay open on the small table in front of the fireplace, along with twenty other library books you had borrowed; which Madam Pince would have a right fit about if she saw the notes you had sprawled in the margins.

Somehow, the two of you had ended up curled together on one of the leather sofas in the Common Room, your three-foot essay on Golpalott’s Third Law long forgotten.

Theo’s head was dangling off the arm of the sofa, his brunette curls tousled. Your head was resting on his chest, one hand placed over his beating heart. His arms were locked around you, holding you flush against him, your shallow breaths syncing with one another.

“Should we wake them?” Pansy Parkinson asked, her arms crossed as she stared at your sleeping forms.

“Ah, let ‘em rest,” Mattheo Riddle said, taking a swig from a bottle of Butterbeer he had brought back from the Great Hall for Theo. “Theo’s been having a hard time sleeping for days now, anyway.”

Draco Malfoy smirked, watching as Theo instinctively pulled you closer to him as he slept.

“Someone should go find that little blond stepstool who’s always following Potter around with that camera,” he suggested. “This is way too good to pass up.”

© 𝓐𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒

⋆˖𐙚 Perfect Little Doll.

Short Summary: Tom Riddle is quite laid-back when it comes to you—but under the effect of a Lust Potion, he just takes what he wants—however he wants.

Warnings: 18+ only! consensual non consent. somno, sex under the effect of a lust potion, rough sex, choking, unprotected p in v, sex with little to no prep, creampie

A/N: I got the highest grade possible for my thesis, you get filthy smut! Win-win.

wordcount: 1,2k

“No, stay— stay like this.”

It’s the first thing you hear when you stir awake in the middle of the night. You try to move—but something, or rather someone, is making sure you have no choice but to stay trapped beneath them.

“Please, no—“ panic rises in your chest as you struggle under their weight—but it’s no use.

“Shh. It’s me. Be good and stay still.”

synopsis. you are always so attentive when leaving the shower, cleaning after yourself with maximum attention. this time, you somehow forgot to pack away a very important object — your dildo. your roommate mattheo stumbles upon it by accident and he doesn’t let the opportunity slip between his fingers. next time, be more careful, sweetheart!

pairing. roommate! mattheo riddle x reader

content/mdni. fem!reader, roommates!au, flirty!mattheo, gymrat!mattheo, pervert!mattheo, kinda soft!mattheo, dom!mattheo, caring!mattheo, a bit of subspace (?), dildo-fucking/toy usage, voyeurism, oral (m receiving), slight spanking, shower sex (but the shower is not on), wall fucking, cum play/kink, tummy bulging, slight size kink, teasing, degradation, praise, dirty talk, name-calling (sweetheart, darling, pretty girl, but also slut, cumslut, cockslut), raw sex, thoatpie, creampie

word count. 4.4k

a/n. i am down bad for roommate!mattheo! i love him, he is very versatile! feedback and reblogs are deeply appreciated!

“ah, perfect timing! i was just done in the bathroom.”

your joyous voice chirped the moment mattheo entered your shared apartment, the honeyed words hitting his partly-covered ears — his headphones were dragged immediately down around his neck — and making him smile involuntarily.

his grin grew in intensity when he saw the state you were in: indeed, you’ve just got out of the shower, as you were only wearing a towel around your damp body.

the towel, one of his favorite outfits of yours, was draped nicely around your naked form, secured by a tiny corner tucked in between your boobs.

you had a lot of fate in that flimsy corner, huh?

the rumours about theodore nott’s size have been circulating around hogwarts like a wild current. and now that you’ve become his girlfriend, you can have your very own confirmation.

⧼ content/tw ⧽ 18+ mdni, smut with some plot, brief fingering, unprotected piv, size kink, belly bulge, girl talk about dicks, cursing, pet names including italian, fem!reader, all characters are aged up, no-war universe

⧼ nota bene ⧽ theodore nott’s redwood tree ain’t hard to see, is all i have to say. yes, i’m horny.

⧼ word count ⧽ 2.5k

“Okay, babe, you have to piss off, or I’ll hex you right now and won’t care about getting expelled.”

Cho rolled her eyes at your insistence to avoid her questions, but she was far from deterred from continuing on her path to find out the truth. She nudged you with her shoulder again, harder this time, as if that could somehow shake the answer right out of you.

“Come on, you have to tell us. It’s like, your duty at this point.”

Lavender nodded eagerly from your right side, her arms crossed on her chest in obvious determination. “Yeah, you must tell us, love,” she whined in that familiar tone of hers that meant she wasn’t getting what she wanted and didn’t like it one bit. “We’ve been dying to know. D-y-i-n-g. Don’t be a bitch.”

no one touches it. no one dares to even knock. the blinds are drawn shut on the way to and back from hogwarts at the start and end of each school year. students gossiped all the time since he’s officially — unofficially — put his name on that specific spot.

they talk about how much he values his privacy.

about how he might be jerking off.

but this year, things were different. for the first time, he let someone else inside with him.

you.

and of course, people speculate. it’s rather scandalous, isn’t it? for a boy and a girl who were dating to be alone, shut together in a small space, not a sound coming from inside?

some try to peek in to find out. nervous first years search for empty seats and older students steer them away from their doom, whispering stories like they do every year in the corridor like tradition, one after another chiming in on the mystery of riddle’s compartment. some say he’s simply studying up for the new school year beforehand to be ahead like always. others say he’s finally found a partner to share his so called sexual escapades with.

but, there is simply no way, right? golden, head boy, respectful prodigy, polite gentleman, saint riddle would never do that to a girl on the train to hogwarts, would he?

he would never be sitting silently with his legs crossed and a book on his lap in that compartment on the express, humming to himself in thought as he read through an issue for the new curriculum, turning a page every once in a while with one hand.

…while the other sat squeezed just between your shut thighs and inside your soaked panties beneath your skirt, long fingers curling and thrusting in and out of your sopping little hole absentmindedly as you squirmed in your seat beside him, panting and whimpering quietly like he said to while clinging onto his arm, hips humping your cunt against his digits desperately while he paid you no mind whatsoever.

tom riddle was always a good multitasker, and he’d need the skill to balance work and pleasure for this coming year. so, he is doing just that — diligently taking care of his academics and dutifully assisting his girlfriend who was just so pent up after not having seen him all summer.

poor thing.

out there, they all say he’s either studious or debauched. tom riddle thinks: why can’t he be both?

If you could write it, i would LOVE itt, but if you don't it's okay 💗 thank youu

Please

Theodore Nott x F!Reader

Warnings: penetrative sex, teeny bit of nipple play, cussing, kissing

18+ Minors DNI!

⋆·˚ ༘ * Thirteen lilies ⋆·˚ ༘ *

Masterlist

Author's note: your wish is my command :) also I just really love this ask. the flowers are lilies, just because I love lilies and I feel like the slight melancholic nature of them fits theodore nott (or the version I have of him in my mind, at least.)

warnings: it's just fluff, maybe a little on body issues + not proofread

hope this is what you imagined, anon!!

Pairing: theodore nott x fem!tattooed reader

You're in Theo's dormitory. Yesterday night was a rare, quiet evening when his roommates were gone- he'd been tense all week, something weighing on him he won't name, and you've been trying to coax him out of his own head while his friends scattered away to their own multitudes of activities, unsure of how their presence in the room with the two of you would be greeted.

After transfer student, Y/N L/N, has to duel against Mattheo Riddle in a Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson and notices something a tad suspicious about his magic, Mattheo’s best friend, Theodore Nott, takes no time in noticing her back.

First part / Third part

Contains: still VERY SLOW, Hufflepuff reader, Hogwarts uni AU, GOF events, Pansy gossip session UGH love her, alcohol usage, pretty much everyone being shitfaced, possibly OOC Cedric and other characters I wrote more than half of this in one day loolololololol

A/N: you might hate me either by how long i took to write this or by how i ended this part oops (also not proof read)

Word count: 7.2K

Every day after the interaction Y/N had with Nott, her eyes searched for him in every room she entered. Her ears perked up, searching for the noise of his accent, even the call of his name.

It was becoming a problem.

Her curiosity towards Riddle hadn’t faded. If anything, it had worsened, clawing at the back of her mind like an itch she couldn’t reach. The duel replayed itself constantly; the sparks crawling back to him, the strange heaviness in the air, the smell of gunpowder. Even how proficient he was at his classes. She needed to get answers.

“You’re befriending Nott?”

Ron sounded genuinely horrified.

Y/N barely looked up from the book she had open in front of her in the library. Her head rested lazily on her hand as she turned a page she hadn’t actually read, her mind preoccupied.

“He’s actually very pleasant,” she replied. “Charismatic, even.”

Her nails tapped idly against the table. Hermione finally looked up from her own stack of books, lips puckered thoughtfully.

“Don’t be so judgemental, Ron,” the Gryffindor said calmly. “It’s a good path to take if we want more information on Riddle.”

The redhead only raised his eyebrows in surrender, lips forming into a thin line as his eyes went back to the bookshelf he had been searching. Y/N stared blankly at the page, uninterested in its contents. She was supposed to be memorizing some Potions formulas for her upcoming exam this week, one that Snape had programmed almost a month prior, but the long wave of procrastination that had drowned over Y/N just left a few hours prior at the realization that her grade could not get any lower. She didn’t understand how an elective class could be this demanding.

As the Hufflepuff forced her eyes into every single letter of the page, the sudden echo of heavy steps coming closer to the group snatched her focus once again. When the three heads turned upwards to see whose they were, they were all taken aback by the look Harry Potter held. His sable hair was pointing in all directions, his light eyes were tired with visible bags under them, and his tie hung loosely around his collar, as if he had tried to fix it with no real effort.

“Hullo,” he muttered, collapsing on the chair next to Ron.

L/N and Granger looked at each other, reacting to their friend’s state. They debated internally whether they should ask him about his current situation or not. Weasley got ahead of them, obviously.

“Alright, mate. What’s the next task?”

Harry blinked slowly at Ron before giving him a flat look. “I just walked in.”

“Blimey, you don’t know?” The redhead was oblivious to the stress that was eating his best friend alive, his big mouth only adding fuel to the fire burning behind those green eyes. Hermione nudged Ron with her shoulder with a bit too much force. 

“Harry,” She started, brushing a piece of her wavy hair behind her ear. “No one has told you anything?” Hermione almost regretted opening her mouth as soon as she did, as Harry’s discontent was made very apparent by the look on his face. 

Ron nudged Hermione back with his elbow. 

“No one tells the champions anything.” He groaned.

Y/N looked up from her book, using this conversation as an excuse to get away from her studying. “Ask Cedric,” she suggested, “I bet he already knows.”

Potter took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “You ask him.”

“What? Why me?” Y/n scoffed.

“Because he’s your Hufflepuff Golden boy.” 

“He’s not my Golden boy. He’s Cho’s.” Her brows furrowed before the penny dropped. Oh, so this is what it is about.

“You’re jealous she chose Diggory?”

Weasley bit his index finger in an attempt to silence the loud snort that came out from him, obviously to no avail. Harry stayed still for a moment, eyes closed, with his hands still rubbing them as his mind worked to find any reasonable excuse for his salty behaviour. “Yeah, well. It’s just annoying. I’m not even supposed to be competing.” 

Granger sighed before her hand made its way towards his forearm, comforting him gently. “You still have over a month left. I’m sure there’s something we’re missing about the golden egg.”

As the Gryffindors kept talking about the tournament and Harry’s inability to talk to women, Y/N directed her eyes to the book in front of her once again. Word by word, she copied it down onto a small flashcard she took from her binder to help her memorize. Her head started to make sense of the formulas– well, kind of in the same way in which dreams make sense, but it was a start. Suddenly, she closed her book shut, gaining a gaze from Ron. “You finished?”

“With antitodes, yes. I’m missing cognitive and emotional potions now.” She stood up, her robe flowing gently with her movement. “I’ll be back.”

As Y/N made her way through the dark maze of bookshelves that was the library, she looked deeply into each book title she found. It was a colourful stack that the library had, going from deep reds to bright greens– each depending on the book’s contents. Y/N kept on looking, her golden and black robes shining under the low candlelight. ‘Herbology, celestial arts, creature-derived potions…’ She continued to scan the shelves for the book she needed, but her steps slowed when a certain title caught her eye.

Notable Wizarding Families of Britain.

A smile was painted onto her lips.

Her feet were on tiptoes as she reached her arm upwards, trying to get a hold of the book. As her body shifted from side to side from a loss of balance, one of her fingers touched a nearby floating candle, its hot wax stinging her finger. “Shite.”

Y/N felt someone’s pace stop right behind her. “Careful.”

Y/N turned around, only to find Pansy Parkinson standing behind her. Y/N held her finger strongly in her other hand, adding pressure to the blackened spot in it. “Hi,”

“Merlin,” Pansy eyed her before stepping forward.

The Slytherin’s steps got closer to L/N, stopping right next to her and reaching her hand up towards the book. Pansy shifted her weight onto one leg, hand settling on her hip as she examined the book’s title. Both girls looked at each other. 

“Thanks, Parkinson.” Y/N smiled, her reaching for the book before Pansy took her hand, looking at it thoroughly. Y/N was dumbfounded, not only because of the random encounter, but because Parkinson seemed a bit too friendly. It’s not as if she disliked her, far from that, she just didn’t take her as the type to be worried for someone with whom she wasn’t really close, for someone with whom she mostly gossiped and drank tea with.

The Hufflepuff’s breath hitched as Pansy’s finger brushed by her small burn.

“You can take Riddle in a duel, but candle wax is your downfall?” The black-haired girl snickered.

Y/N rolled her eyes with no real bite into it, pulling her hand back. “It caught me off guard,”

“Clearly,” Pansy pronounced, before leaning on the bookshelf. She took a good look at L/N, her engines working for a conversation. “You didn’t lose, though. If anything, you rather embarrassed him.”

Y/N arched one of her brows at her comment. “What do you mean?” She was now leaning on the bookshelf as she held onto her book.

The Slytherin fixed her robes quietly before opening her mouth, the candlelight adding to the atmosphere. “His attitude.” She began, “I know that maniac well enough to know when someone’s gotten under his skin. You’re persistent, L/N.” She was smiling, amused by the sight of Y/N, as if each word she spoke were moulding the girl before her.

“Oh, you,” L/N grinned from ear to ear in embarrassment, waving her hand dismissively at Pansy. She laughed at the view of the sheepish Hufflepuff in front of her, watching the scene unfold beautifully. 

“Y/N,” Her sly voice started, “Aren’t you friends with Nott? He must’ve told you about it.” 

The H/C girl looked astounded at the question. ‘Friends’ was definitely generous, but she wouldn’t close the door to the opportunity. “I wouldn’t go that far yet– he’s quite pleasant, really,” Y/N tilted her head with a rueful smile. “What did he tell you?”

“Oh, Salazar,” Her hand made her way to her temple. “You should’ve seen when Draco said he’d caught you talking to Nott, it caused quite a scene.” Pansy cackled at her own words as she must have relived the blonde’s stunned look on his face. “When he told us and questioned Nott, he said you were ‘enjoyable enough’, which is surprising coming from him.”

Y/N only blinked as she listened to Parkinson. Confused. Her nails started tapping on the bookshelf she was resting against, fidgeting as she processed the new information. Theodore’s reaction was still quite ‘eh’, but it wasn’t indifference. That was a win on her book– baby steps, people!

The girl with the emerald-green uniform continued, her eyes looking around for any visual stimulant. “Mattheo looked rather irritated, actually. Tried to brush it off, of course, but he did say he agreed with Draco that Nott couldn’t be caught talking to a blood traitor.”

“Is he still stuck on that?” Y/N sighed, flabbergasted at the immaturity. Ever since her first few days she had transferred to Hogwarts, Malfoy had been an absolute jerk towards Y/N due to her ‘staining’ her pureblooded status and last name with her muggleborn alliances and friends. Merlin, don’t even start about the talk about her house. Comments after comments about such a privileged ‘pureblood’ ruining her status so stupidly never stopped leaving his thin lips, whether Y/N could hear them or not. It had been months.

Pansy shrugged. “He’s an arse to everyone. He’s still got the same beef with Potter ever since they were boys.”

Before Y/N could respond, her mouth was left agape as there was a call for Pansy. Both girls turned their heads– speak of the devil. 

Between the bookshelves stood Draco Malfoy– straight back and killing gaze. His eyes darted from his comadre to the girl beside her, without taking a single step forward. “Parkinson, L/N.” He greeted, nodding at the first before throwing a nasty look at the latter. Rude. 

“Astoria’s in the common room looking for you. Pre’s started.”

Pansy smirked. “I won’t be late to the match, Draco. Leave me alone for a moment.”

The Slytherin prince rolled his eyes before drifting away, seemingly preoccupied. “See? Absolute arse, even with me. I gave him a peck once at the club, and now he’s going about like he’s my father.”

Y/N’s eyebrow lifted. “You do tend to lead him on, to be fair,”

Pansy’s hand made its way to her dark hair as she brushed it with her slender fingers, chuckling to herself. “Just testing,” Then, she stood from the bookshelf she was leaning against and made her way out of the corridor, before turning her head around. “I’ll see you at the match, Y/N?”

L/N smiled at the girl, holding onto her book. “See you then, Pansy.”

—------------------------

Loud chants and colourful fumes filled the pitch’s air as it overflowed with students from all houses. Bright yellow and green clouds filled the sky, symbolizing the support for both teams as they shot up from multiple wands at once. Y/N had been sitting on one of the Hufflepuff towers, her scarf tightly wrapped around her neck (Merlin forbid she got ill during this season) with matching yellow and black strokes on her cheeks. Hannah sat beside her, her hair in a tight ponytail, as she had a Hufflepuff Jersey on. Around them, multiple housemates sat– going from shy Susan Bones advocating to her house with a small Badger flag, to loud Justin Finch-Fletchley, who had half of his face painted yellow and chanted loudly alongside his friends. A few Gryffindors and Ravenclaws sat by them, either to show their support or simply to sit beside friends.

In between chatter, Y/N’s eyes shifted from Hannah, who was ranting about a Ravenclaw girl, to a sudden disturbance a few rows below.

A small group of Slytherins had appeared at the edge of the tower, clearly struggling to find some seats. In front of them was Theodore Nott.

Behind him, Pansy was laughing loudly with Astoria Greengrass, possibly tormenting her about some silly moment they had in the pre-game, and Zabini followed by scanning his surroundings, the yellow scarves and banners as if he were in a foreign country. Justin took no time to notice them as well, nudging Ernie Macmillan multiple times with his shoulder for his attention. “Helga, we’re being invaded.” Joked the latter, bending forward to let the girls hear him as well. The four Slytherins took a seat, unbothered by the looks they got from the other houses.

Hannah stopped mid-rant as she saw Y/N standing up. “Where are you going?”

The girl was already shuffling her way between students, trying not to cause more disturbance than there already was. “I’ll be back!” 

Hannah let out a sharp exhale before turning around to Justin to continue her rant.

She stopped right behind Theodore, before stepping forward and plopping into the free seat next to him. Due to the overflowing amount of people in the pitch, Y/N almost stumbled as she went down the row next to Nott, but she tried to make it casual by clearing her throat twice as soon as she sat down. Yeah, of course he wouldn’t notice.

Nott looked over, mildly surprised.

“Hello,” The girl looked over to him.

“Hello.”

“Didn’t know you would be supporting Hufflepuff today.” Y/N snickered. Theodore glanced around the stands before looking at her again. “Hardly,” he scoffed, “You might call it charity.”

“Right.” L/N tossed her head to the side. “You’re lucky you even got a seat here. Pitch’s full tonight.”

Nott spoke up. “Malfoy’ll be surprised to see us sitting here.” Y/N laughed softly to herself as she imagined the blonde’s reaction while on his broom. She enjoyed the thought for a moment, letting it stir in her mind.

“Might as well have fun with it,” Y/N giggled, her eyes leaving his and looking at the clouds that covered the beautiful mix of orange and blue in the sky. As Y/N thought about what to say next, she got interrupted by someone calling out for her.

“Merlin, Y/N! Hellooooooo,” Pansy was basically earraping Nott as she turned towards their direction to greet her friend, waving her hand excitedly as if she was missing the Hufflepuff’s attention.

The h/c girl passed her hair to the right side of her neck before leaning in towards Pansy. Both girls were practically over Theodore, as he seemed to be the wall separating them. Parkinson excitedly took L/N’s hand as she yelled about being excited for the game and something about Draco, but Y/N could only focus on the way she smelled like something other than her perfume; firewhiskey. Ah, that explains a lot.

A smile appeared over her face as she looked over at Nott, searching for any kind of reaction to a tipsy Pansy. The only one she got was a big eye roll from his part, as a smirk followed. “The game’s already starting, Pans. Calm down.”

Pansy made a fake annoyed face before turning towards Astoria, the latter whispering something in the black-haired’s ear, making both of them smirk. Y/N noticed, looking at them curiously, before her gaze went over to Theodore’s, only to see him looking back at her. His blue gaze quickly went to the pitch, playing it off by watching the smoke bombs that were being thrown by the crowd. Silence settled between them, broken only by the loud chatter and laughter of the crowd around them as the players started entering the pitch, though it did little to distract her from what was on her mind: get closer to Theodore Nott.

“I thought you were a Quidditch type of guy,” She began, using her words to break the ice. His eyes didn’t leave the pitch for a second, his pupils moving around as he watched the game.

“Used to. Lost interest after a while. Felt a bit tedious, honestly.” His voice came out unbothered, even if his head was moving side to side to have a better view of the players. Her small smile became a grin listening to his denial. 

“You still seem pretty interested.”

Nott’s eyes finally left the pitch and side-eyed her, jokingly giving her a judging look. “You do enjoy making assumptions, don’t you, L/N?”

This response made the Hufflepuff laugh before shrugging. “I’m quite observant, Nott.”

He gave her what almost was a smile(?, before turning his attention once again to the game, letting a loud groan out with half of the crowd as the other half cheered, with Slytherin almost making a point, but Herbert Fleet, Hufflepuff’s seeker, sending the bludger elsewhere. Y/N turned around to look at her friends, cheering with them as they celebrated. When she turned back to look at the pitch, she heard Nott talking loudly with his friends about how close Riddle was to scoring the point. She nudged the Slytherin with her elbow. “He sure was close, hm?”

Before he could respond, Zabini’s voice retounded between the group. “Oi, you’re lucky Fleet actually got some practice this season, if not we would be owning the bludger at this point.” He crossed his arms across his chest as he spoke, a hint of friendly arrogance in his voice. The girl scoffed. “Right, as if Diggory didn’t get us the win last game with you by catching the snitch.”

“Pure luck, I say,” Interrupted the Italian, his accent coming thicker than before. Both Pansy and Astoria laughed as Blaise gave the Hufflepuff a sly look. Y/N shook her head in fake disbelief, her short-lived laugh betraying her image.

The game continued with Cedric Diggory being on top of the game, the tension between him and Draco Malfoy to catch the snitch being thick enough that someone could’ve cut through it with a knife. The feeling drowned the audience as both players flew rapidly around the pitch, both trying to one-up each other as both houses were tied in points. Then, a sudden roar erupted from the crowd, as Y/N suddenly felt some hands holding onto both of her shoulders from behind– it was Hannah.

“There!” The blonde yelled, shaking L/N back and forth as the poor girl held onto her scarf in anticipation. Everyone’s gaze seemed to fall under a flash of gold that darted near the Hufflepuff goalposts. The snitch, followed by both seekers, shooting forward instantly. Cedric leaned low over his broom, gaining speed quickly as Draco tailed after him, green robes whipping violently in the wind. The distance between them shortened by the second.

“Shite,” Nott murmured. Behind her, she heard Finch-Fletchley and Hannah murmuring quite loudly, ‘He’s got it,’ until they gasped loudly by Malfoy swerving sharply, his broom cutting directly across the Hufflepuff’s path. Diggory jerked sideways to avoid crashing into him, his shoulder slamming harshly against the handle of his broom, causing him to lose his balance. Multiple people across the stands stood up, either outraged with yelling or jumping in anticipation. Screams of foul play and calling the Slytherin out were heard across, but neither affected either of the seekers’ actions. Either way, Draco had already dropped into a steep dive. A flash of his silver and green robe shot downward–

Then his fist closed around gold, followed by the whistle shrieking through the stadium. For one second, the silence in the stands was exchanged for loud cheering and green smoke bursting violently in the air. Y/N looked astonished as Nott stood up and celebrated along with the other Slytherins in the stand.

“No congratulations?” He asked, looking down at L/N with an arrogant smile and one of his thick brows arched. She groaned. “He’s a bastard. You know it.” Theodore sat next to the girl again as his gaze followed hers, looking directly at the Slytherin Prince holding the snitch above his head, a smug grin visible even from across the pitch. He shrugged. “Even Lee Jordan congratulated us on the game.”

“Congrats. Be proud of the foul play, Nott. I’ll go and check on Diggory.” Y/N stood up from the stand and carefully passed through the overcrowded space, ignoring the loud protests and cheers colliding around her. Green smoke still floated above the pitch while the Slytherin section erupted in celebration, chants echoing through the cold evening air.

As she stepped down the last few stairs of the tower, her eyes drifted briefly toward the pitch once again. Cedric had finally landed, clearly tired as he was surrounded by a few angry Hufflepuffs and a smug-looking Draco Malfoy, who still held the snitch high like a trophy.

Behind her, Theodore watched her figure disappear through the crowd, one of his eyebrows lifting slightly before Blaise’s voice pulled his attention away. “Told you they’d take that personally.”

Theo only huffed a quiet laugh, leaning back against the stand as his eyes wandered toward the pitch once more.

“Yeah,” he muttered absent-mindedly, “I noticed.”

—----------

“We were close to winning, still. Not Diggory’s fault Malfoy’s such a dick.”

Y/N nodded to Hannah’s comment as she padded on her blush, residue of the pink powder floating gently in the air between her and the vanity mirror. “Literally. At least party’s gonna be good, though.” 

The blonde took her eyes off her own reflection on the vanity mirror as she straightened her hair and looked at Y/N’s– she noticed the odd smile she held tugged on her lips as she continued her make-up. “You’re talking to Nott at the party?”

“What?”

Hannah held a mischievous look, her eyes closing slightly due to her grin. “You spent half the match talking to Nott– you even ditched me to go sit with him.”

An airy laugh escaped Y/N as she searched for something in her makeup bag.

“Half is generous. He’s really into Quidditch, even if he won’t admit it.”

“Mhm.”

She got the setting spray. “Oh my god, Hannah.” An actual laugh escaped her lips before spraying her face, quickly waving her hands at it for it to dry. 

As the girls got into the party, the atmosphere was built quickly. Loud music drowned the space as well as the smoky air that came either from machines or cigarettes, as the smell of tobacco was present as well. Abbott and L/N made their way across the overcrowded room, every two steps greeting different people and complimenting their outfits until they made their way to the drinks table.

“Only firewhiskey?”

“It isn’t that bad,” The blonde replied, fixing one of her black top’s spaghetti strips as she grabbed a cup for each of them. 

“I mean, yeah, we just drank a lot of it at the pre, though. Was hoping for some Vodka at least.”

The girls began drinking as they moved around the place, dancing around and talking to any group of people they encountered. 

“Y/N, Hannah, Ginny– I need you guys to drink these with me, please,” Begged Cho, as she held four shots and her lip gloss in her hands.

They continued laughing, Cho speaking loosely about whatever was going on between her and Cedric and mentioning something about Harry, but L/N’s gaze was looking at who was behind the Ravenclaw.

She saw Mattheo Riddle, one of the match’s champions, with Malfoy and Summerby, one of Hufflepuff’s chasers, taking shot after shot with each other. Mattheo finished first, clapping his hands as Nott patted his back. Summerby finished second, with Harry cheering for him as Malfoy finished last, his lips forming into an awkward shape as the flavour of the alcohol washed over him. 

“I’ll be back,” L/N told her friends as she made her way towards the guys. Nott must be drunk; he might spill something now. Cho tilted her head at her friend, leaving so suddenly, until Hannah pulled her closer and started murmuring something to her, making both of them laugh.

L/N stumbled into Harry, “casually”, of course. She had to be smooth with it. “Merlin, Harry– hi!”

Potter nearly spilled whatever was in his cup before looking at her. “Blimey, Y/N.”

“Sorry,” she laughed. “Where’re Ron and Hermione?”

Harry snorted softly, already seeming tired at the mere mention of them. “Somewhere around here. Ron disappeared after losing to Ginny at cards, and Hermione’s been telling people not to let him near the drinks table.”

“That bad?”

“He tried to bet his shoe.” He scoffed.

Y/N burst into laughter, shaking her head. “Sounds about right.”

The brunette took a sip from his drink before his eyes drifted toward the group behind her; Riddle was loudly arguing with Summerby about the match while Malfoy looked too wankered as he spoke to Pansy with a silly look on his face. Beside them, Theodore leaned lazily against the wall, drink in hand, as Blaise spoke into his ear.

Harry looked back at her knowingly.

“I saw you talking to Nott during the match.”

Y/N tried to look nonchalant. “And?”

“And d’you know anything new?”

She glanced over her shoulder briefly before leaning slightly closer to him.

“Not yet,” she admitted quietly, eyes flicking toward Theodore again. “But if Nott’s ever going to start oversharing, it’ll probably be tonight.”

Harry gave her a look somewhere between concern and amusement. “Be subtle about it, yeah?”

She grinned. “When have I ever not been subtle?”

Harry immediately deadpanned, peering at her over the rim of his glasses.

“You walked into me on purpose five seconds ago.”

She simply shrugged before walking past him and patting him on the arm.

“Nott, hi,” she greeted, placing a piece of her hair behind her ear as she looked at Theodore first, before looking at the other Slytherin next to him. “Hi, Zabini.”

“Badger,” greeted Blaise as he nodded at the girl, placing a hand on her shoulder as he spoke. “Still offended about the match?” 

What a cocky bastard.

“Only every time I look at Malfoy. He needs to calm down, seriously, man.”

Zabini laughed as he crossed his arms across his chest, taking one look at his blue-eyed friend. “G’luck with that. Malfoy’s been talking about the match like he personally won the World Cup.”

Y/N snorted softly at the image.

“Tragic.”

“Tell me about it,” Blaise sighed dramatically before downing the rest of his drink. His dark eyes flicked between Theodore and Y/N for a brief second, something sly passing through his expression.

“Well,” he dragged out, already stepping backwards into the crowd, “I’m off before Parkinson and Draco get too close again. Can’t let Daphne see it happening this time.” Nott gave him a look as he took out a cigarette, his friend only smiling at him before leaving.

For a few seconds, neither spoke.

The bass of the music echoed through the common room while laughter and loud chatter drowned the air around them. Theodore leaned back against the stone wall lazily, placing the cigarette between his lips as he lit it on. “You’ve got that look again.”

Y/N blinked. “What look?”

“The one where you’re about to ask me something.”

A smile pulled at her lips despite herself. She took a step closer to him, getting slightly closer to the height of his face due to her kitten heels. “I don’t know, maybe?”

Nott looked at her through his eyelashes as he let the smooth smoke out of his mouth. “I’m s’pposed to answer?”

“Uh-huh.” She laughed, stepping to lie on the wall next to him. 

Theodore only shook his head slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching upward as he brought the cigarette back to his lips. For a few seconds, silence settled comfortably between them, both simply watching the crowded common room unfold before them. The music thumped through the stone walls while drunken students stumbled around laughing far too loudly.

Y/N followed Theodore’s gaze absent-mindedly until she noticed what had caught his attention: Mattheo Riddle was making his way through the crowd with none other than Daphne Greengrass hanging onto his arm, her glossy lips moving quickly as she laughed at something he had said. Riddle looked mildly amused, one hand loosely holding his drink while the other rested against the girl’s waist as they headed toward the staircase leading to the dormitories.

Theodore let out a low whistle.

Mattheo immediately turned his head toward him, brows furrowing before flipping him off without hesitation. Y/N only watched as she laughed at the view.

“Oh, Merlin,” she grinned, watching the pair disappear upstairs. “So the rumours are actually true.”

Theo glanced at her lazily. “Which ones?”

“That half the girls in Hogwarts have snogged Riddle.”

A quiet scoff escaped him. “Bit dramatic.”

“Please,” she nudged his arm lightly with her elbow. “I already know tomorrow’s breakfast is going to sound like the Daily Prophet.”

He thought for a moment. “Don’t be a fool, it’s common knowledge.”

Y/N laughed again, shaking her head. “You lot are all the same.”

That earned her a side-eye from the Slytherin. “We are not.”

“Oh, come off it,” she smiled into her drink. “Malfoy flirts with anything that breathes, Zabini thinks he’s Merlin reincarnated, and Riddle’s apparently collecting women like Chocolate Frog cards.” Despite wanting to defend the name of his friends, he couldn’t help the loud snort that left him.

“And me?”

Y/N pretended to think deeply, eyes narrowing as she looked him up and down. She noticed how his white linen shirt didn’t have a single crease in it, the way the first few buttons were undone and how it fit perfectly into his body as if it was meant for him. Yeah, he definitely was the same as his friends. 

“You brood in corners and judge people.”

Theodore acted offended, a fake mini gasp coming out with a faint smell of tobacco. “I do not brood.” 

“You absolutely brood.”

A small smile tugged at his lips before he looked away toward the crowd again. “Publicly, maybe. It’s part of the… how do you call?” He thought. “Aura.”

The laugh that escaped her this time was softer. She looked at him for another second before speaking again, curiosity slipping naturally back into her voice. “So, how did you even meet them?”

His eyes watched her curiously. “Them?”

“Your little cult.” Y/N motioned vaguely toward the room with her cup. “Riddle, Zabini, Malfoy.”

Theo huffed quietly through his nose. “I moved here when I was fourteen.” He spoke simply, eyes still lazily scanning the crowd. “Didn’t know anyone.”

“You’re not from here?”

“Mostly grew up in Italy.” He shrugged lightly. “My dad’s British.”

Oooh, that explained it. Sometimes, certain words slipped differently from his mouth, softer around the edges. Y/N had noticed it before, but never fully placed her finger on it.

“T’was weird,” Theodore admitted. “Everyone already knew each other.”

She nodded slightly, understanding the feeling more than she cared to admit. “I get it. Same feeling when I transferred, people here know each other since infancy.” Theodore only nodded, taking another hit from the cigarette as he leaned into the sound of the music around them.

“So Riddle adopted you?”

Her question gained an unimpressed look from Nott. “Hardly.”

Y/N grinned into her drink, ears perked up to his response.

“He was one of the first people I met, though,” Theodore continued. “Secondary school. He got into a fight with someone during the first week.”

Her eyebrows lifted instantly. “Of course he did.”

“He won.”

“That somehow makes it worse.” Figures. He was also a creepy child.

A quiet laugh escaped him.“After that, people mostly left him alone.” Nott’s eyes lowered briefly toward the smoke curling from his hand. “We just ended up around each other.”

“And Malfoy?”

Theodore rolled his eyes so hard he swore they might get stuck at the back of his head. “He inserted himself, obviously– since Zabini and Riddle were sticking with me. Also helps that our parents love each other.”

She giggled at his response, twirling a piece of her hair in between her fingers.“That sounds accurate.”

Theodore looked at her then, properly this time, amusement lingering behind his tired eyes. The loud bass of the music echoed around them while students stumbled past laughing, yet the space around them felt oddly detached from the rest of the party. “So,” he started, “you've always been this curious about people?”

“Depends.”

Before Theodore could respond, another voice cut through the conversation.

“There you are, Y/N.”

Y/N turned her head at the familiar voice just as Cedric Diggory appeared beside her, one hand holding a drink while the other settled naturally on her upper back to steady himself through the crowded room. His shirt had the first few buttons open and sleeves messily rolled up, as his eyes were glossy in a way only a certain amount of vodka shots could develop. It looked as if he had long given up on looking put together for the night.

“Nott,” Cedric greeted with an easy nod.

“Diggory.”

The girl peeked behind Cedric. “Where’s Cho?”

“She’s looking for you, actually”, Cedric replied, laughter already hiding behind his words. “She swears Fred and George have rigged the cards somehow.”

Y/N snorted, taking a sip of her drink. “They probably have.”

“That’s what I said,” Cedric pointed at her with his cup. “But apparently I’m ‘enabling their behaviour.’”

“Maybe you are.” Her eyebrows went up as she said this, looking at her friend with a knowing look. Suddenly, a loud echo of men could be heard coming from deeper in the common room, followed by a cheer for Zabini. The three of them turned their attention to the direction where the sound was coming from, Diggory laughing as he looked over someone’s shoulder. “Summerby just lost an arm wrestling match to Zabini.”

“Merlin,” Nott added, putting out his cigarette with the sole of his shoe. “He’s going all out tonight.”

The girl cackled at his comment. “I left for like 10 minutes and missed all this.”

“You vanish into Slytherin corners for 10 minutes,” Cedric corrected teasingly, looking back at Y/N.

Theodore’s eyebrow lifted slightly at that.

Y/N scoffed. “Please. Nott was just telling me how deeply antisocial he is.”

“Ah,” Cedric nodded thoughtfully, glancing toward Theodore. “So this is socialising for him.”

“Painfully so,” The brunette replied dryly. That earned a laugh out of both Hufflepuffs.

A group of students stumbled past them loudly, forcing Cedric to step closer so they wouldn’t get shoved aside. His hand instinctively slipped lower, settling briefly against Y/N’s waist as he steadied both of them through the crowd. A small ‘sorry’ could be heard from his part as the crowd passed. Theodore’s gaze dropped to the movement automatically, only for a second– something neither of the Hufflepuffs noticed.

“You should come save Cho before she starts accusing people of cheating again,” Cedric told Y/N with amusement. “George has been provoking her quite a lot.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, not taking the guy seriously. “Don’t tell me she threatened to throw a drink at him. She did that last time with Terry Boot and ruined his khakis”

Cedric laughed, his hand having a firmer hold on her. “That’s fair, honestly. He tends to shove his head up his arse when he has a bit too much to drink.”

“Oi,” Theodore spoke up dryly beside them, flicking the ash from his cigarette somewhere onto the stone floor. “That’s rich coming from Hufflepuffs.”

Cedric grinned, his attention jumping over to Nott. “Your house is by far the worst drunk.”

“Absolutely not.” He stood straight now, a cocky smile on his face as he looked up at the Quidditch player.

“You started singing the Hogwarts hymn after Fall’s match.”

Theodore scoffed. “That was Zabini.”

“Oh, I remember who I saw, Nott.”

A quiet scorn escaped Theodore’s lips, though a smirk still lingered there. He pushed himself off the wall slowly, fixing the sleeve of his shirt before glancing toward the crowd. “I’m getting another drink before I have to hear Diggory philosophise about alcohol consumption.”

Y/N smiled despite herself, putting all her weight on one leg. “Scared you’ll lose the argument?”

“Terrified.”

Cedric chuckled softly as Theodore gave them both one last lazy look before disappearing into the crowd, his shoulders brushing against passing students as green light flashed across the room.

For a second, Y/N’s eyes followed him absent-mindedly.

“C’mon,” Cedric nudged her lightly.

The Hufflepuff laughed before letting Cedric guide her through the packed common room. The atmosphere only seemed louder the deeper they walked into it– music vibrating through the floor, smoke lingering near the ceiling, people dancing terribly in cramped circles. This made her almost miss the space she had shared with the Slytherin just a few moments prior.

When they finally reached the group by the drinks table, Hannah immediately gasped dramatically, holding her arms open for L/N. “Oh my god, there she is.”

“Y/N!” Ginny pointed at her accusingly, spilling a bit of her drink. “You vanished.”

Cho narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Were you avoiding me?”

Hufflepuff’s golden boy cleared his throat. “She was in a Slytherin corner,”

The group erupted instantly.

Abbott’s mouth dropped open. “NO way.”

“Oh, shut up,” Y/N laughed as she reached over for a drink on the table.

“I bet she was with Theodore Nott,” Hannah continued smugly. “They’ve been besties lately.”

Ginny immediately turned around to scan the room before tilting her head in confusion. “Um, no? He’s literally over there with his friends.” Sure enough, across the common room stood Theodore beside Zabini and Riddle, the green lighting catching against the sharp angles of his face as Blaise spoke animatedly beside him.

Hannah scoffed loudly before leaning towards the redhead’s ear to fake-whisper at her. “He hasn’t been there all night, Gin.”

Y/N nearly choked on her drink. “Merlin, you people are unbearable. I hope you’re not saying all of this when you probably sneaked out to get off with Longbottom.”

“Mine’s common knowledge,” the blonde declared, both hands up as if surrender.

Cho laughed, before checking quickly if Diggory was still on the radar. He had left with Fred and George, and at last the three of them shared a beer as they spoke. “T’least you guys are snogging whoever you want. I don’t know what I’ll do with Diggory.”

The girls started talking to the Ravenclaw through it, insisting that alcohol and dancing were the best solution, though her gaze subconsciously drifted back across the room, finding Nott in an instant.

And right as if sensing it, Theodore looked over too.

Only briefly.

Then Zabini said something in his ear, making him look away with a small shake of his head and a loud laugh she could make out by the movement of his mouth.

—-

The party lights and the music were still on, but most people were absolutely gone. The whole Slytherin Quidditch team lay on the common room’s couches, talking about other outings they had planned and whatnot, as Marcus Flint stood animatedly in front of the guys, laughing loudly.

Her heels clicked softly against the stone as she wandered a bit further down the corridor, absent-mindedly fixing one of her rings as she went towards the exit, slightly wobbling with each step. She was ready to leave, quite frankly. Hannah had told her to wait for her at the entrance of the dungeon so they could leave together, but it seemed a certain Gryffindor might’ve taken her out first, as she was nowhere to be seen.

She stretched her arms above her head as she kept walking, not thinking much about the couple snogging or the people throwing up until she saw a familiar silhouette smoking a cigarette. 

Theodore stood in front of Astoria Greengrass, who had her back against the wall. Her silver jewellery was caught under the dim torchlight that came from above as they spoke to each other, low enough that whatever Astoria was saying had him leaning down slightly to hear her better over the distant music echoing from the common room.

L/N saw and slowed her steps without meaning to. She took a good look at the Italian.

Nott looked oddly relaxed like this; one hand shoved deep into his pocket while the other lazily held his cigarette between his fingers, as he brought his hand up to take another hit. His mousy hair was messy and shuffled all around, as his eyes had the same glimmer of intoxication shine in them as Astoria’s.

Y/N only thought as she passed by them, eyes looking forward, as she did not want to interrupt whatever moment the two of them were having. 

Theodore’s eyes lifted as he smelled the familiar perfume; his gaze fell onto the Hufflepuff’s figure down the corridor almost automatically as his head turned slightly. 

Greengrass seemed to notice; her hands stopped playing with her blonde mane as they went to slide up to grab Nott’s jaw, pulling his attention back toward her. Her deep eyes looked into his baby blue ones, and, without second thought, she pulled him in and closed the gap between them. The brunette kissed her back just as naturally, one of his hands moving to Astoria’s waist as if by instinct.

The movement happened quickly enough that Y/N almost felt stupid for still looking, clearing her throat and looking ahead once again to ignore the awkward weird moment the three of them had back there. She even fastened her speed a little, making her trip over her own heel for a second before she silently laughed at herself.

Smooth, L/N, so smooth. Had she always been this good in situations? She would have liked to believe yes, but the morning after, she knew she would rethink all of her word choices and actions while chugging a whole jar of electrolytes and know there would be some room for improvement, especially with Nott. Was she too obvious with her questions? Didn’t he ever wonder why one random Tuesday, a Hufflepuff girl would try to befriend him so obviously?

Why did she keep staring at him during the kiss?

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

pov: life with mattheo riddle as a couple living together- soft version

in the morning, you'll find him in the kitchen was early as 7am, no shirt, healed scars on his back visible through the faint morning light, cooking you your favorite breakfast (or trying too...he was never taught how to cook but wants to learn for you)

he loves your natural face so much but also resist you when you're all dolled up

when you're getting ready to go out, he will sit by your vanity and watch you do your makeup, he dosen't care how long it takes and dosen't even need his phone, he'll just bring a book, read and watch you.

of course, everytime he showers he invites you with him, most of the time it's not even anything sexual, he just wants you close to him, he wants to admire your beauty.

he'll hate it when you bring home your first stray dog/cat, which will attack him in the beginning until it eventually becomes his bestfriend, him and the pet are literally inseperable.. you almost feel left out when they're cuddling in bed after you get home.

he dosen't care if you go out with your friends or what you wear when you do, in fact, he will always encourage you to look your sexiest. the only thing he cares about is your saftey, he likes to know where you are and how you are almost every hour.

when you're on your period, he won't hesitate to go to the store to pickup whatever you want, even if you don't ask for it, he will just go buy you a ton of things; chips, icecream, soda, candy, pastries, sushi, you name it, and he'll let you choose from whichever you want.

when he's invited out with you to a get together or event, he feels awkward around the other people, it reminds him of struggling to make friends at Hogwarts because of who his dad is, but you're so inclusive and warm he can't help but feel more confident in his socialization.

at the end of an outing together, he'll take your shoes off for you at the door and carry you to bed, he'll even wipe of your makeup if you asked him too.

Theo's lucky girl.

It's no surprise that girls were eyeing your boyfriend Theodore Nott. Especially when they got a look at what was all yours. Whether it's just walking, standing, or manspreading—with lips caught between their teeth, eyes were laid shamelessly all over his body. Glancing at what their hands wanted to touch, to feel.

Well too fucking bad.

You couldn't give a care less of how their whole demeanor changes when you enter the picture. The envious storm behind their eyes unable to hide. Some pretend you're nothing but a background, or something easy to replace, to overcome.

In all honesty, it amazes Theo how unbothered you are. He'd thought maybe you'd be a crazy jealous little bitch, which you are, just in theory. But it's impressive how you limit yourself from attacking those obsessive whores who deliberately throw themselves onto your boyfriend every chance possible.

How exactly do you do that?

Simple. You already have what they want, so why not show off a little?

A group of girls giggling and pointing at Theo while hes sitting down doing absolutely nothing? Nudge his arm and see how their glorious smile drops when he pecks your lips and drags you to his dorm. Spreading salt to the wound, you send a wink into their direction before happily trailing behind Theo.

That was kind of the idea everytime something like that happens.

Although other times, you often find yourself questioning why Theo chose you. So many girls you thought were prettier than you, smarter than you, why didn't he choose them?

Well, to Theo, out of everyone who fancies him, you were the only one who knew him for who he really is, even before you started dating. You were the only one who glanced at the covers of his books while others were looking at his face. The only one who brought him his favorite flowers while others bought expensive gifts or going as far as sending him nudes for his birthday. So to him, even if there were so many more girls, no one could get close to how much he wants you.

No one else could ever replace you.

So at nights were you felt he deserves someone better, he proves that you're already someone better. Someone that doesn't only look at him, but loves him.

He would beg on his knees if you ever spoke about leaving him. Doing everything in his power so you can let him kiss you. Listen to whatever you say. And when he gets needy, you always give him what he wants. He's exactly where he wants to be.

He's the lucky one.

(ft. Mattheo Riddle) 18+

✧[Summary]✧ You have an enormous crush on Mattheo Riddle. Although, you're way too busy pushing your nose into books and being an angel for such a popular guy to look your way. That never stopped you though, your little 'harmless' ways to stalk him around hogwarts has gotten way more ridiculous than ever, as if your eyes lingering on him for way too long wasn't enough. But as time passes by, you slowly notice his figure disappearing within your sight. That's when you realize.. With how frequent you observe his presence in front of you, you never acknowledged watching behind you.

✧[Content]✧ Mature Content, nerd!reader, stalker!reader, fem!reader, stalker!mattheo, obsessive!mattheo, jealous!mattheo, pervert!mattheo, size difference, masturbation, oral sex, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, praising, swearing, teasing, smut with plot, no use of y/n, mattheo loves to tease you because you're always such a goody two shoes, but little does he know what he's about to find out..

✧[A/N]✧ Y'all need to speak up my inbox feeling real lonely 😔 Anyways, my second fic with a different guest, I hope it hits all the right buttons in your complicated brains. Luvlubs, cherubs!

✧[WC]✧ 4.4k

"He looks so ethereal." A random girl practically moaned out 'whispering' to her friends in the quiet library while pointing a long manicured nail at Mattheo Riddle leaning at a bookshelf laughing with his friends. Fuck these girls, why is he so damn popular?

Not that you don't agree with them. Ethereal? Hell yeah he is. He was carved by the finest sculptor of all time, it seems. His effect being on level with the past, present, and future. The image of him lingering with failed restraint and the presence of his name fluttering your heart, but the thoughts of Riddle scattering the inner walls of your brain was expertly masked by a sharp minded perfectionist every academic achiever fears.

Ironed uniform, ends of the white button up neatly tucked underneath your dark pleated skirt, tie securely wrapped below the collar, black robes folded somewhere in your dorm—the summer heat really got to every student, including him, seeing as you weren't the only one without it. Riddle had his black robes off long before he strode in the library—the fabric hanging on his shoulder. His tie loose, top few buttons were undone, shirt untucked, sleeves rolled up, both hands in his pockets, looking fine as ever.

You didn't bother to lower your shameless stare as you sat a few tables before him, books stacked left and right, a couple laid opened in front. To be fair, you were actually studying, but that was until he had to disturb your peaceful study session and decided to walk in. Why is he here anyway? Especially around this hour when he just chatters and jokes around with his group of friends. The hallways are dead silent, why not be there like he always does?

Whatever—you study at this specific table daily right after classes, surely it's fine if you finish a little early and take a break. And when you mean break, you mean staring a little more. You know his whole week schedule like the back of your hand, as if it was yours, but lately he's been missing a few classes, rarely shows up at the great hall to eat, and doesn't go on little smoking trips at night that much anymore. You hate how you notice—it's ridiculous. Your eyes trail as he takes a look at the expensive watch wrapped around his wrist and exits the room—perfect. The clock near the doorway signals that it was time for his quidditch practice (and when your study session ends).

When you arrive at the quidditch stands, there's no greater thing to have than a good guy friend that plays quidditch in the same team as Riddle—Graham Montague, whom you were partnered with once in class. Which also meant you get to watch them especially Riddle every single practice at fridays. It was known by everyone that Graham obviously had interest in you, but being too much of a 'goody two shoes', you were too oblivious to see and ended up pushing him into friend zone more than a couple of times. He was a known heart breaker anyways, he doesn't have any right to deserve you in any way, but you were always too nice to everybody, unknowingly spiked his hopes up with your kindness.

You sat with a book and two water bottles beside you—one for you and one for Graham. He always insists you bring it to him after the practice, but you bring it during just in case anyway. Being the good friend that you are, you occasionally give the sweetest smile man has seen and wave your hands at Graham every time you make eye contact—missing the way Riddle's stare flickering between you and your little friend who is smiling back a little too happily for his liking. His glare was firm, yet behind it, he couldn't hide the jealous storm rumbling within.

"Montague!" He yelled out from a distance, broom flying closer—your eyes switch from Graham's to his. "I chose you to be on this team to play, not to magnet attention. Back on track, c'mon." He patted Graham's back, leaving behind slightly before flashing you a grin with teeth before trailing back to the team. Your heart stuttered violently, thankfully you were sitting down because your knees weakened, as if coordination itself abandoned you.

It went on for couple minutes, and while sipping on your water, you couldn't help but glance more than just a few times at Riddle's focused face as they practice. His brows slightly furrowed, sweat slicked skin, and messy hair. You also noticed him being a little rougher when it comes to giving Montague directions.

Right after the last whistle at sunset—which indicates that their time on the pitch was done, you stood up and rushed down the creaky stairs to give Graham his water that was still ice cold (thanks to magic).

"Thanks, I really owe you one." Graham smiles while panting before he chugs his water down in seconds, some dripping on the sides of his mouth to his neck. You respond with a small smile back, "It's no problem really—"

"May I?" Riddle signals to your bottle that's half full, breathing heavily. Your eyes widened slightly, eyebrows lifting. "Uh—sure!" You squeeked out, blood rushing to your face—he thinks it's absolutely adorable.

"Thank you, sweetheart." He grins at your reaction at the nickname—thighs visibly clenched together. He takes it and twists off the bottle cap, the veins in his hands slightly flexing. You gulp as you quietly observe him tilting his head back, adam's apple bobbing as he drinks the given water, your bottle seeming a lot smaller squeezed in his large hand. After he was done, he licked his lips and wiped his mouth with the back of his free hand, handing you back the empty bottle—fingers brushing a little longer than intended.

To be honest, your neck ached a little looking up at him, but anything for that eye contact. His gaze moving up and down to your small frame. "Hey beautiful," Graham jumped in, causing you to take one tiny step backwards. You hummed in response, completely different to how Riddle reacted—his demeanor seemed like he wanted to rip the guy in half—kind of scary, oh well. "Come with me." Graham continued before capturing your wrist and dragging you with him to the changing rooms.

You struggled to keep up with his long strides and was in the process of protesting before you two came to a sudden stop. "Wait for me, okay?" He pants, sitting you down on one of the benches right outside the showers before entering in one of the shower stalls. Oh. It's this again. Dragging you all the way here just to make you wait for him to shower. He only did this once before when Riddle was in detention and couldn't monitor, now twice. You had no clue why, but considering you weren't familiar with his infatuation with you, it was no wonder you keep up with this shit.

He does it so you can see his bare torso, with just a towel wrapped around his waist. It honestly isn't even worth it. It takes him about an hour to shower, probably doing everything but taking a proper shower. Fidgeting with the hem of your skirt and ignoring a few other teammates other than Riddle roaming around, half an hour passed—only Graham's shower stall still running water. You hear a snicker and looked up, seeing Riddle leaning against the doorway. Shirtless. He only had a pair of grey sweatpants on, hanging low right where his v line ends, hair still damp from showering. Muscles flexed as his arms were crossed. Your cheeks burned at the way his eyes playfully narrowed at you as he caught your eyes wandering a little too low—he didn't mind at all.

He stepped closer, leaning down until you could feel his minty breath on your face. You tried to scoot backwards in your seat—heart beating faster when your back meets the wall and his face gets even more closer. Just when he's only centimeters away is when he stays still—eyes forcefully burning into yours, down all the way to your thighs that are clenched shut, then back to your flushed face, to which you can see that his pupils had dilated.

"What's a such good girl like you doing in the men's changing rooms, hm?" He spoke lowly, but clear enough so you could hear. You parted your lips to respond, but he cut you off, "Or maybe you're troublesome unlike what everyone portrays you to be." He teases, smirking.

"I'm just waiting for Graham." You huff, voice betraying strength. "Well, Graham can wait for himself." He knew Montague's tricks all too well—it wasn't the first time he's used it on someone. He softly grabbed your wrist, bringing you outside.

As soon as your face hit fresh night air, you sighed, relieved. "See what I mean?" He chuckles softly, "Montague isn't worth your time."

You give him a cheeky smile—cute. Moments of comfortable silence and occasional jokes and giggles passed before you both hear Montague's distant voice.

"Guys?"

⏤͟͟͞͞☆

After you both separated at the dorms, offering each other goodnights and doing your before sleep routine, your mind went crazy and your heart threatened to jump out of your chest as soon as your back hit the bed. Although your brain is absolutely about to burst out of excitement, your body can't help but slump against the bed as it's exhausted. It's Friday, understandable. You flutter your eyes closed, sending you to dream world where all dreams happen.

Next thing you know it's morning. Despite it being summer, you've been met with the very cold morning breeze. Rubbing your eyes, it regains focus specifically on a window that's ajar. So that's where the cold wind came from. You stretch for a good second before standing up to shut the window properly—your owl out of sight, it probably escaped, wasn't the first time that happened. Checking the small clock on your nightstand, you should probably dress for—

Oh.

It's Saturday. Damn it. Whatever, you always go to hogsmeade on Saturdays anyway. Whether its to buy clothes, food, read books on a really cold or really hot metal bench, or just walk around, it's basically a part of your weekly shit.

Rummaging through your clothes, you couldn't find single pair of one of your favorite underwear. You swear the number of it is decreasing by day. Finally deciding on a good pair with decent clothes, you took a quick shower, brushed your teeth, changed, and went out for breakfast.

As you passed by the great hall doors, you took some steps back for a sneak peek to check if Riddle was at breakfast.

Dang it—he's not there.

You wonder where he might be during his times of disappearing. Actually, you didn't have to as you walk in a straight line to smash your face right against his chest—thump!

You almost fell, but the image of embarrassing yourself this early in the morning makes you mentally retort and immediately take small steps backwards to balance.

"Looking for someone?" Riddle smirks down at you, "You should at least know by now that Montague sleeps in at Saturday breakfast, no?" His smirk fades away, blinking when he realized that you were probably checking up on your friend after leaving him unresponded yesterday.

"I wasn't—" You closed your lips shut, if you had said that you were totally not peeking through to check up on Graham, all your efforts of being 'sneaky' down the drain. "Mhm, yeah right." Riddle mutters and walks right past you like he never said a word.

What's his problem?

One minute he's taking long heavy strides down the halls, then leaning against a wall smoking a cigarette. He stills for a bit, thinking, you were on your way to hogsmeade by now. Maybe if he runs fast enough he could catch up like he always failed to do.

He shakes his head as if saying no to the voices in his mind. He thinks it's ridiculous, but really he shouldn't be saying anything when he stole a handful of underwear right next to your sleeping self and shoved it down his pockets last night. He shuts his eyes at the thought. He should really give those back, but he didn't—actually he found doing that pathetic, you're not getting those back.

He couldn't care less as he jerked himself off with it. He was absolutely fond of the idea of your underwear covering your cunt all day, the way the fabric fits in all the right places. His dirty fantasies doesn't stop there. Just a glimpse of your big curious eyes looking up at him has him crazily aroused. Oh and that smart mouth of yours has him wondering what other stuff it can do other than speak about complicated potion recipes, how warm your soft lips probably feels when it wraps around his—okay maybe he should stop there. He snaps himself awake from his little imaginations and walks straight to his dorm before he gets caught red handed with a boner.

Later that evening you had a hard time sleeping than usual. Just flipping and tossing around in your bed, eventually giving up and laying limp with your eyes focused on the ceiling. Tomorrow's Sunday, then after that it's Monday, then Tues—ugh—time flies fast. Since sleep neglected you now, you reach out deep into your thoughts looking for something that might help the boredom.

Ah, perfect—Mattheo Riddle.

You remember the way he stared in a specific way at you in potions, the way you made eye contact with him during his practices, the way his veiny hands were buckling his belt when you were peeking in his window while he was getting ready for school, the way his face was so close to yours yesterday at the shower rooms—what if you just leaned in?

His soft lips against yours, that would've felt heavenly. You sigh, this wasn't really the worst thing you've done, so why not? You decide as your hand reaches down to your clothed heat and pressing down on the sensitive area.

You push off your shorts and panties in one go, fingers dragging the dripping arousal right on your little bundle of nerves. Hair disheveled, eyes closed, lips parted as soft moans and whimpers escape, your fingers deliberately circling on your clit. Despite your perverse doings, you looked like a fucking angel.

That's exactly what Riddle thinks—as he shamelessly watches you masturbate and occasionally whisper moan his name through that same window he came in and out of last night.

Fucking hell—his mouth literally waters at the sight. He never knew such a sweetheart like you could ever be touching herself to someone that he thought you had no interest in.

Such a naughty girl, fuck—the way you squirm under your own touch. Such a cute little pussy too, just like how he imagined. Who knew his night could turn around like this just because he wanted to return your stolen underwear while you were—what he thought was sleeping.

As much as how badly he wanted to climb in and help, knowing he's exactly your target, it was wrong of him to do so. That doesn't mean it won't happen, now that he found this little secret of yours, it won't be the last time he gets to see you like this.

While your eyes were shut, desperate to chase that coiling feeling at the pit of your core, Riddle took a ripped piece of paper from your desk with the use of magic and burnt it with the tip of his wand to write on it. With a precise flick of his wand, the stolen relic was returned, neatly placed on your bedside drawer along with the paper.

Although his initial task was done, he didn't leave. From all the way over here, he could tell you were close. He also wishes you would call him Mattheo more often. Maybe then he'll remember this valuable piece of memory as if he would ever forget about it.

Staring intently into your fingers that had graduately sped up, he keeps on watching until at you reach your high and at the brink of gaining consciousness, he's already walking outside like he never passed by.

Fluttering your eyes open and breathing heavily, you cleaned yourself up in the bathroom and came back with a lingering sense that something changed.

Gaze darting across the room until it lands sharply on the bedside drawer. Isn't that your underwear?

How considerate—Riddle had the courage to give you one of the four panties that he stole.

"Where have you been hiding, hm?" You inspect the garment, it seems clean. As you picked it up, something slipped from the drawer and onto the floor. A paper. You picked it up.

Troublesome and naughty too? Who would've thought..? Other than me ;)

Oh fuck.

You read it for about a hundred times before throwing it across the room. You lay slump on your bed, palms covering your eyes. You just wanna fucking sleep, but how can you do that when you know there was definitely someone that saw you masturbating to someone you definitely shouldn't have been masturbating to?

Whatever this shit was, it was a dream. Yeah, a dream.

...

Please fucking wake up right now.

You didn't wake up.

Fuck fuckity fuck.

You curled up in a ball and hid under the covers. Eventually you did fell asleep, but not without having to stress yourself to death. Whoever saw you did what you did, you'll deal with it tomorrow.

Minutes later.. You found yourself wide awake under the moon. Staring at the ceiling. Troublesome? Sounds quite familiar, no? There was only one person who could've gave you that paper—and the missing underwear.

Mattheo fuckass Riddle.

What in the actual fuck was he doing in your room? And more importantly, why the fuck did he steal your stuff? Your heart thumping, you soon realized that you eventually have to confront him, now that he knows it's his name you're moaning when you touch yourself.

But at the same time, it kind of excites you. He literally stole your undergarment(s). What else did he do with them?

Only one way to find out.

After getting ready and changing into appropriate (or not) clothes, you hesitantly went down to the corridor leading straight into an ongoing party, if there was one thing to know about Riddle, it's that he never misses one.

Music blaring in your ears as you enter, glancing from person to person right until one of those eyes were staring right back at you. He gets closer till he was standing in front of you, ears blurred out the music, filling it with the quickening beat of your heart.

"That was you?" Your voice confronting, yet weak as he stepped even closer. He narrows at you, "Knew you're a smart girl, wasn't expecting you to figure it out so easily, huh?" He thinks for a bit, "Don't you think you shouldn't be the only one doing the confronting?" He smirks.

"Riddle." You gulp while looking up at him.

"It's Mattheo." He counters.

"Mattheo." You respond, the name tastes familiar on your tongue, but you never used it to actually address him.

His vision lowered down to your attire. You didn't think much of it as it was rushed, but clearly it made him think a lot more than just a short dress that barely covers anything. You never wore it out before, oh but it hugged your figure perfectly, showing the flesh of your thighs and cleavage that you swore to cover. He audibly groaned at the sight, hands finding the curve of your waist.

Even with all the bright party lights in his eyes, you knew in that moment, whatever he wanted, his eyes told you it was real.

And then it happened. Before any thought could resurface, before restrained unleashed, his lips found yours.

Raw, aching, and claiming. Both hearts thundered, a kiss that burned and drowned in chaos. It took strength to pull away, even to breathe. And once you did, it left you gasping.

His glare was harmless, but it meant something—desperate. His heavy grip, unfaltering, not ready to let go just yet. But then, he loosened his hold.

Instead, his fingers wrapped around your wrist in one swift move and leads you straight to his dorm. Except, he halted right at the door.

"I want you to tell me you need this as much as I do." He breathes, gaze softening.

"I want you." You didn't hesitate one bit.

His palms slide under your thighs and carries you into his dorm as his lips captures yours once more. You gasp into his mouth in surprise when he closes his door by pinning your back onto it.

Fingers grasping and curling against his scalp earns you a groan into your mouth that sends jolts to your core. His lips fierce, but his fingers were gently as it's securely under your thighs supporting your whole weight. He can feel warmth radiating from your body.

Still deep into the kiss, he walks you over to the bed and sits you on his lap. Removing his shirt, it cuts off the kiss. While your at it, you kneeled down on the ground in level to the unmistakable tent in his pants.

His eyes widened, "Darling, you don't have to—" You cut him off with a peck.

"I want to taste you, please..?" You beg and give your best puppy eyes, though you didn't have to, you on your knees for him was already more enough.

"Fuck, baby.." How could he ever resist you?

You watch him unbuckle his belt in full view, in all honesty, it just makes you pool even more. You impatiently pull down his pants and boxers at the same time.

He chuckles while you gawk at his size before reaching down to the ends of your dress and pulls it off as well, leaving you bare with just in a bra and panties. Slowly, your hand reaches to wrap around his length.

My goodness.

Your thumb does not reach the rest of your fingers around him. You mentally prepare your jaw before spitting to lubricate, then wrapping your warm soft lips around it. He groans, perfect.

You lower at least halfway in and do the rest of the job with your both of your hands.

"So good f'me." He rasps.

He slightly jolts in pleasure and whimpers as you swirl your tongue around his tip before bobbing your head up and down again.

You look up at him while he tilts his head back, eyes shut. He's undeniably close, but he hasn't even fucked you yet. Once you pull away to breathe, he takes his chance and throws you onto the bed.

While kissing and trailing hickeys on your neck, he slides a hand under and unclips your bra. A whine escapes past your lips as he latches a nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking and doing the same to the other.

He gradually moves down while the tip of his nose is firmly dragging tingling sensations all over your lower half. He halts right above your pulsating cunt and takes off the final piece of undergarment.

Your breath hitches as his tongue goes contact to your entrance and drags up to your clit, wasting no time. It was his dirtiest fantasy coming to life. His cock throbbing to replace his tongue, a competition, a test to Mattheo's resistance. Although his greediness won over in an instant, as he already planned out to do both.

The pulsating bud begging for air under his tongue makes him no less hungry. "Mmgh—Mattheo!" Your voice struggling to keep up with how much he's lapping you up.

One last lick before his warm lips suck on your clit. "Oh—shit..!!" You tremble as a tight rope inside you just snapped. Warmth gushing your lower half, Mattheo never stopped.

Your mind burns into flames as your eyes roll to the back of your skull. Hands gripped onto his hair, not knowing whether to pull him closer or push him away. Vision blurring, he eventually stops.

He claims your lips in a kiss and positions his tip right to your soaked entrance, collecting arousal. His head drops to your shoulder, placing light kisses as he sinks in. The stretch burning so satisfyingly.

"So perfect 'round me.." He holds your head to his chest when he bottoms out, groaning.

"Yeah—please, mhhm." You choke out eagerly, your pussy swallowing him whole.

"I know, baby.." He groans, holding his high so he can make you feel good first. The first few thrusts had you moaning so heavenly for him. He wasn't quiet either—moans so pornographic it should be illegal.

Speeding up, his cock flush deep inside, skin slapping. He supports his weight on one arm above your head, the other had a soothing thumb grinding deliciously right on your sensitive clit.

Tears brimmed, you looked at him with all your might. His eyes glued at the way his dick slides in and out of your greedy pussy that's securely around him, then up to your teary eyes.

"Yeah that's it, baby. You're doing so good." He forces his words out of his throat. You cry out his name, his steady pace getting harder each thrust.

The tight rope that broke earlier had tied itself, tighter and tighter, until it snapped, hard. Your walls rippled around him, clenching while your legs quivered.

His thrusts finally had it's moment and stutters. He groans and splutters his warm cum inside you, filling you up to the brim. Panting, he pulls out. In awe of his cum dripping out of your pussy.

"No one else ever gets to see you like this ever again." He was tired, but his words were sharp and sure.

"What does that even mean?" You pout, unsure if he's gonna keep you in the dark to have you to himself or well, nothing else.

"You'll find out."

What have you put yourself into?

Although you can't really hide that a part of you doesn't give a flying shit as long as you're in his hands.

I wonder how Graham would feel after finding out his captain fucked his girl(in reservation) 😛

Work written by me. Some dividers aren't mine and credits go to those who owns them. Please do not copy, translate, or feed my work to AI.

₊˚⊹♡ Percy Jackson x Fem. Reader

Synopsis: One of Percy's main love languages was physical touch; everyone could see that. But what everyone didn't see was the small movements he would always do with his hands when it came to you. Or, two mini blurbs about how Percy's hands always seem to find you.

Content Warning(s): reader gets a small concussion while being on a quest, reader is said to have anxiety & has a small anxiety attack, soft Percy cuz that's how I always write him (...whoops), not proofread :,(

Author's Note: okayyy so this fic is a bit of a warmup to get used to writing again bc of the long ass break I just took lmao. I'm planning on writing the P2 to the angst Percy Fic, but I don't have any full ideas for it yet, so I wrote this to hopefully inspire some ideas for that (if any of you guys have any ideas for what I should write for P2, I would greatly appreciate it!!)! :)

There were habits Percy always did with his hands around you—always subconscious, never on purpose, but always there. His hand finding the small of your back whenever you are just the right distance apart, covering the sharp corners of surfaces when you bend down, massaging your shoulders after a Friday of capture the flag, his hand always resting on your thigh when you two sit together, thumb rubbing small circles into your skin.

Usually, you didn't put much thought into the actions. When you first started dating, you noticed. How could you not? You asked him about it, why his hands always seemed to find you whenever you were near. He replied with a shrug of his shoulders and that stupidly handsome grin. "Don't wanna have you drift away from me, y'know?"

You laughed it off with a blush already making its way across your face. After that, his actions drifted to the back of your mind. It became a custom for the two of you: Percy would reach out to you, always silently, always gentle.

The quest was supposed to be an easy one.

If a God tells you that—specifically a God of war who goes by the name of Ares—then it probably isn't going to be. To Ares' credit, it was going fine, until a hellhound appeared. The other times you've dealt with hellhounds, it's been fine; it wasn't necessarily easy to take one down, but it was manageable without getting injured. However, when it appears out of nowhere when you're already blinking away stars in your vision because of the amount of running you've done in the past day, it gets trickier.

You tilted your head back, hitting a tree with the back of your head—you think it might be a sycamore tree, you were in that type of forest, right? Watching through a blurry vision, you could make out the shape of Riptide gleaming in the unnatural way it always did in the dark, along with the slow falling golden particles of what used to be the hellhound, gleaming from the faint glow of Riptide.

"Hey—hey sweetheart, can you hear me?" You heard Percy ask, and oh, his voice was a lot softer than usual. It always got softer around the edges with you, a warmth that he only showed to a few, that being his mortal family. But now? It was all warmth, honey-coated, and vanilla sugar. At least you think that's a good way to put it—it was hard to have a fully coherent thought with the throbbing in your head. You blink slowly, finally registering the words. The throbbing becomes more intense as you attempt to nod, so you croak out a weak, "yes," in response.

Percy exhaled quietly, nodding to your single word like it had changed the entire trajectory of his life. "Okay, that's good. That's really good." One of his hands came up to the back of your head, gently pushing it away from the trunk of the tree, cradling the back of your head. "You took a pretty good hit there, yeah?" He prompted, though it was more of a thought to himself rather than to you.

Before you could even attempt to reply—although you hadn't even heard him—he continued. "Let's get you somewhere else. How's that sound, pretty girl?" You attempted to roll your eyes, having only picked up on the part where he called you pretty, because how he was calling you that right now was beyond your imagination. That, however, only resulted in a low groan emitting from you. Percy grimaced at the sound, his other hand coming up to gently be at your waist to prop you up onto your feet. After a moment of struggle, you were standing, although most of your weight was leaning onto him.

You might've passed out after that; you honestly weren't really sure. You came back to reality silently, blinking away the familiar fog that's always there after an injury. Squinting, you could see the stars shining in the sky, twinkling as you stared at them. So, if you did pass out, it hadn't been for very long—it was still nighttime.

Your attention shifted from the night sky to the heat next to you. Percy was sitting next to your lying form, fast asleep. His head was tilted forward at an awkward angle, and his face shifted slightly every few moments. One of his hands rested in his lap, lightly gripping his own jeans, probably a form of self-comfort as he had the normal demi-god dreams. As your eyes slowly went over his whole form, you realized that his other hand was glued to your wrist.

His hand placement wasn't random either; his fingers aligned perfectly where your pulse was. His fingers pressed against the skin of your wrist—not in a rough way, but in possibly the gentlest way possible for someone. The rest of his hand held your wrist in a loose grip, the obvious attention being on your pulse point rather than your hand. You smiled lightly and slowly brought your free hand to Percy's hand, returning the action by pressing softly into his skin on his pulse point, feeling the steady movement of his heart.

Finding yourself inside the Poseidon cabin wasn't unusual; in fact, it was more common to find you there than in your own cabin. Although you loved your own cabin, especially your siblings, the Poseidon cabin was a safe space for you. With the sound of the lake lapping softly against the shore, the smell of old wood and ocean salt, and the breeze that drifted through the always open windows—it was the perfect place to relax.

Today, though, it felt like you were hiding in there more than relaxing. Your breath was coming out unevenly, no matter how many times you tried to count to five, breathing in, holding, and then breathing out. You would hold the pattern for one round of counting and then get overwhelmed again.

Nothing specific happened that day either, making the overwhelming sense even worse; you didn't have a reason to be like this, today was a good day.

You took another shuddering breath, hands leaving where they were holding Percy's sheets to hug your knees instead. The pattern of you trying to breathe in and out slowly but choking up halfway through continued for what felt like hours but was probably around twenty minutes. Being trapped inside your own world that consisted of counting to five, you didn't hear the loud approaching footsteps of Percy.

"Hey, sweetheart, you huddled up in here? Will said you disappeared as soon as your shift at the infirmary ended—" Right. The infirmary was where everything started being too much. The smell of cleaner with an underlayer of dried blood, the nonstop mutter of voices that were always an octave too loud, the rustling of sheets from patients. You took a shuddering breath as you thought about being back there.

At the sound of your breath, Percy's steps came to a halt. For a moment, he simply stared at you, huddling up against the back of his bed, knees drawn to your chest with your hands hugging them. Quickly, he moved, kicking off his sandals as he scooted into his bed. He sat crisscross in front of you, head ducked down slightly so he had a clearer view of your voice. "Hi, pretty girl," he whispered. "Are you okay?" He gently asked, not making any move to touch you just yet.

It took a few seconds, maybe even a minute, before you responded. You shook your head slowly, responding with a no. "M'sorry, I don't know what's—" You started before Percy gently shushed you.

"Hey, none of that, 'kay? Whatever you're feeling is fine for you to feel." He muttered, hand coming up to rest on your bare ankle. You nodded before choking back tears, although some had already started to fall down your face. Percy gave no verbal response to your tears, but his grip on your ankle tightened slightly, thumb now rubbing small circles into your bone.

The two of you sat there in silence, with the only sounds being your shuddering breaths and the noise of the lake just outside. As your breath started to pick up once again, Percy started talking again in that soft, gentle voice reserved for few. "Let's do something together, yeah? How's that sound, sweetie?" He prompted, leaning forward to press a light kiss to your knee. You nodded, not trusting your voice just yet. Percy smiled at your nod, squeezing his hand lightly on your ankle as a response.

"Can you tell me five things you hear?" He asked, moving so he's slightly closer to you.

You frowned, thinking of a response, letting go of the breathing pattern you were trying to follow for so long. It took you a few moments, but you eventually muttered out small words, which Percy hung onto. "I—uhm—I hear the lake," You started, voice uneven and cracking slightly at the end.

Percy nodded lightly in response, once again pressing a kiss to your skin, this time your lower leg. "Good job, pretty girl."

Hearing his response prompted you to continue. "The windchimes on the deck, people talking, my breathing, and uhm—" you paused, finally looking up to Percy instead of your lap. He smiled softly at you, nodding for you to continue. "And you," you finished, moving one of your hands that was wrapped around your own knee to hold his hand that wasn't on your ankle.

Percy immediately latched onto your hand, grip firm but soft at the same time. "You're doing amazing, sweetheart," He whispered, carful to keep his tone at the same level you were speaking at. "Four things you feel?" He prompted again. This time, your head was slightly clearer, breath coming in slower bursts, but still slightly on edge.

It took you less time to answer. "My necklace, hair tie, uhm—my breath?" You say, having it come out as a question toward the end.

Percy smiled, "Keep going pretty."

You took another deep breath, realizing that Percy was also breathing in and out slowly, giving you a pattern to follow. "My shorts, and your hands," you finished, blinking away the last of your tears.

In response to your breath evening out even more, he took your hand that wasn't being held and kissed each of your knuckles softly. "Wanna keep going?" He prompted, watching you closely for a reaction. You nodded, hand squeezing his to add to your response.

Percy continued to gently ask you questions, your breath getting slower and more controlled with each passing moment. His hands always stayed on you; one gripping your ankle with a gentle grip, thumb going over your bone in careful movements, and the other holding your hand in a grip that was anything but rough.

Title lyrics from The Only Thing by Sufjan Stevens

word count: 760

summary: (includes smut) a jealous theodore is not one you want to mess with. or maybe, for you, he's exactly what you need.

authors note: i wrote this in 30 minutes on my lunch break. i just couldn't get theo out of my head #workinghardorhardlyworking?!?! anyway enjoy guys!

🌷 masterlist

Theodore Nott doesn’t get jealous. No, he’s too good for an emotion as weak as pitiful enviousness. He’s way above wasting a single second on thinking about someone else. No, the feeling he’s getting from watching you flirt with another man isn’t jealousy. It’s hatred.

Theodore’s not jealous of the way your hand rests on the other Slytherin’s thigh. He’s not jealous of the other man who’s able to see the column of your neck up close when you throw your head back to laugh carelessly. He’s not jealous of your lips grazing the other man’s ear as you whisper something that makes the two of you giggle. Theodore is too busy devising a murder plot to feel jealous.

Theodore isn’t jealous, no. But then, what can he call the growing chasm in his stomach, the one that makes him feel like he’s freefalling? What can he call his roaring heartbeat in his ears, so loud he can barely hear Mattheo talking to him from a few feet away? How can he explain his clenched fists, his tight jaw, his hardened eyes?

Okay, so he might be jealous, which could be a reason for the predicament you’re in now.

“Tell me you’re mine. Say who you belong to, amorina. Say my name.” Theodore’s slow drag of his cock in and out of your wet pussy makes you feel tingles from your toes all the way to your finger tips, your head so far up in the clouds that you can’t even manage to talk properly, slurring your words to the point where they’re almost unintelligible.

“Theo,” you whisper his name, your fingers clenching the sheets under you. “Faster,” you whine desperately, your hips jerking up towards him, needing better friction, more precise movements, needing him deeper.

“That’s not what I said, bambina,” Theodore whispers in that gravelly voice he saves just for when he’s fucking you. “You’re mine. Say it.” He knows it’s irrational, the words he’s saying, because you’re not his. You're not his girlfriend or his partner, you’re not even his friend. You’re acquaintances. But once he found out from a drunk Pansy that your pussy became sopping wet just from making quick eye contact with him, and once he could admit to himself that he became painfully hard just from you sitting next to him, the two of you became, for the lack of a better description, fuck buddies.

You can barely breathe with Theodore’s cock inside you, and the sheer pleasure you feel from this new form of hate sex that you’re experiencing is rendering you completely stupid. So you can’t stop yourself from moaning his name over and over again, saying that you’re his and only his, and that you need him to go faster or you might actually die.

Sex with Theodore was always good, but you make a mental note to make him jealous more often. This was indescribable, his relentless pace, your legs thrown over his shoulders as he bends you into shapes you didn’t even know your body could make, his hand on your throat as he fucks you into the mattress, your moans echoing around the room so loud you’re almost positive someone’s going to walk in on the two of you.

“You going to cum, principessa, huh? Oh, look at you,” Theodore coos softly, acting like he’s not fucking into you so hard you can barely breathe. “Your tongue is falling out of your mouth, amore, be careful.”

“Theo,” you whimper again and again with every thrust. “I-I can’t.”

“Yes you can. I know you can, baby, c'mon. Give it to me. I want to hear my name on your lips as you squeeze my cock. I want to see your face as you cum.”

It’s like his words cast a spell on you; you cum after one particular thrust hits your g-spot, your hands curling into his hair as you convulse under him. You can hear him groan as his hips buck wildly into yours, his body stilling as he pumps a load into you.  “Fuck,” you whimper repeatedly, hugging Theodore tight to your chest as the two of you come down from your highs.

“I got you, amore, don’t worry,” he whispers, and it sounds so scarily real and caring that you don’t even know what to think anymore as his soft lips meet yours in a tender kiss. You’re terrified at the way your heart swells, at the way you lose your breath and train of thought. You’re terrified because you might be falling for him.

These links all contain NSFW content, everything is 18+. All X/twitter links (you have to be logged in before viewing)

Cw: Fingering, oral(FEM!receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, dry humping, rough sex, breast sucking, anal, penetration, big belly bulge (Toms section), cunt spanking (Toms section)

A/N: So I'm totally out of it to actually write something but i do love my Twitter so here's some of my favourite videos I found on Twitter but as Slytherin Boys