#;the professor who stole my heart

[tealeavesandthorns]

[dreamwritesimagines]

Theory of Gravity

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Making small talk can be difficult with a crush.

Word Count: 1234

Genre: Fluff Oneshot

Content: Drinking, reader being awkward because she has a crush, flirting

Contrary to popular belief, snitching on the whereabouts of a very dangerous mobster in the bar you worked in and possibly getting killed or maimed in the process was not a good plan for a Friday night but to be completely honest, you had done worse things over a silly little crush.

Like back in college freshman year when you pretended to be into music biopics just so that the hot guy in your elective would think you two were meant to be.

So if anything, this was a pattern.

“Logan?” you said as you put his drink in front of him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

“What was Galileo like?”

He blinked a couple of times, the familiar scowl that seemed to be etched on his handsome face getting deeper and you tried to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat.

“Please tell me you’re joking,” he said. “I will lose all the belief I’ve never had in the first place in this country’s education system if you’re serious.”

You gave him a bright smile. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“I figured it was better than asking how the public took it when Newton came up with the theory of gravity.”  

The look on his face couldn’t be described with anything but complete horror and you let out a laugh, then went to serve another customer before quickly making your way to him.

“I’m just messing with you,” you said, leaning against the bar as you stole a look at the mobster sitting by the table with his men, then to Wade who was very, very busy with Vanessa by the corner.

“You look nervous,” Logan pointed out, making your head whip up before you cleared your throat.

“Nah, not at all,” you said. “I’m just thinking that if I die tonight, I’ll die doing what I love.”

“Which is?”

Gazing at older men who couldn’t look less interested in me.

“Being surrounded by drunk people who want to give me money,” you said. “Not a bad way to go.”

He scoffed into his drink before taking a sip while you nibbled on your lip, shifting your weight.

“Nothing is going to happen to you,” he said, his voice gruff. “We’re just waiting for his partner to show up, then we will deal with them both.”

You nodded your head. “Yeah. Sure, I know.”

“Do you?”

You nodded again, absentmindedly reaching out to play with the cocktail straw on the counter, painfully aware of his gaze on you that made your face burn.

“How’s grad school?”

…He remembered.

He remembered you saying that the last time he and Wade were here.

One simple observer would’ve thought he was on his knees proclaiming his undying love for you with the way your heartbeat went insane and his eyebrows rose as if he could hear it, but you quickly casted the thought away from your mind; that was surely impossible.

“Oh it’s going well!” you said, your voice going high-pitched for a moment. “Came for the hot professors, stayed for the education—I’m joking,” you added in a haste, waving a hand in the air. “I’m a very…very deep and intellectual individual.”

“Uh huh.”

“And none of my professors are hot,” you muttered and wiped at the damp spot on the counter with a napkin. “They should put that on the brochure if you ask me, it’s important information.”

“So you��ll be a doctor?”

“If by some miracle my dissertation goes through the jury,” you pointed out. “How about you? How’s your roommate situation with Wade going?”

He only grumbled something under his breath and you bit back a smile, then topped his drink.

“Thanks sweetheart.”

If there was one thing you hated the idea of more than dying was proving Freud right but it looked like you were going two for two tonight.

“So uh,” you said, trying to ignore the goosebumps rising on your arms because of his deep voice. “Hey, at least you have the place to yourself sometimes, no? When Wade is with Vanessa? Should give you some time to…bring someone home.”

And I volunteer as tribute.

He raised his brows, his unwavering gaze pinning you to your spot and you cleared your throat.

“Or—or someones,” you stammered. “Sky is the limit if you’re into that sort of thing. Now that it came up by the way, are…are you?”

“Am I bringing people home?” he asked as if he wanted to make sure that was what you were asking and you shrugged your shoulders, your face on fire.

“I’m just asking because, you know,” you began the sentence without having a clue on how you would finish it as usual. “I’m great at giving relationship advice, so if you were in a relationship I could be your own personal relationship coach.”

He pulled his brows together in confusion and you reached out to get the bowl full of peanut shells from his right just so that you could keep yourself busy, then turned the bowl over the garbage can.

“I’m not,” he said and you swallowed thickly.

“Who has the time for that these days, am I right?”

“Do you have—”

“Yes I have the time!” you cut him off, nodding your head in enthusiasm, your heart beating in your ears but he had already finished his sentence;

“…ice?”

You hoped to God tonight was the night you’d die because if that mobster in the corner didn’t shoot you, you were going to have to ask Wade to do it just to save you from this embarrassment.

“Oh,” you said after a beat as he stared at you. “Yeah—yeah I have ice, sorry.”

You rushed to get some ice and put it into his whiskey, biting inside your cheek and he cleared his throat.

“You don’t want to go out with me sweetheart.”

Well good news was that you had already made a fool of yourself so one could think the bar for your self-respect couldn’t get any lower, but boy oh boy you had already brought your metaphorical shovel.  

“I disagree,” you said, taking a deep breath. “I would very much love to if you were interested.”

“You think I’m not interested?”

“I feel like I’d have a better chance at proving you’re not interested with dates and references than my own thesis,” you pointed out. “And that’s saying something—”

“I am interested,” he cut you off, making your eyes widen and you gawked at him, frozen in your spot. “Trust me, that’s not the problem here.”

“Am I getting the I’m too dangerous for you speech?” you heard yourself ask through disbelief. “Because screw that speech. Honestly, the only thing I’m focused on in here is if you—fuck!”

He pulled his brows together. “If I—?”

“No no!” you said as you pointed at the back door where two men were dragging Wade through. “Wade!”

Logan cussed under his breath as he shot up from his stool.

“Don’t go anywhere, we’ll talk about this later,” he told you and made his way to the back door while you heaved a sigh, leaning back to the counter as he stepped outside and you caught the sight of him grabbing a man by the neck before the door slammed shut. You pressed a hand over your chest, then tilted your head back with a groan.

“Alright,” you muttered to yourself. “That was smooth.”

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ cloud nine. ✦ 」

Mattheo riddle x reader [part2]

Summary: The "jinx girl," as they call her, is said to bring bad luck. However, when Mattheo Riddle decides to get to know the school's most neglected girl and takes matters into his own hands, Y/N's life is turned upside down in a mere night.

Warnings:fluff,smut, angst

Words: 11.2k

The whispers followed me like a shroud, a constant murmur that swirled around the edges of my existence. "The jinx girl ," they hissed, punctuated by snickers and pointed fingers. Bad luck, they believed, clung to me like a second skin, a misfortune I carried wherever I went.

Hogwarts, a place that promised magic and wonder, had become a labyrinth of avoidance. Empty seats flanked me in Potions, desks strategically moved away in Charms, and hushed conversations abruptly stopped when I entered the room. I was a pariah, a freak, the girl who supposedly brought misfortune upon anyone who dared come close.

Every dropped potion, every sprained ankle, every lost Quidditch match - all blamed on me, Y/N Y/L/N, the harbinger of bad luck. Hogwarts, once a dream, had become a prison. Even the ghosts seemed to cower at my presence.

Professor Flitwick, a whirlwind of energy and charm despite his diminutive stature, announced a project for our Charms class.

"Partnering up for a Conjuring Extravaganza!" he squeaked, his voice a high-pitched melody. "Showcase your enchanting skills with a partner of your choosing!"

The room erupted in excited chatter, students scrambling to find their partners. I, however, remained rooted to the spot, a familiar ache twisting in my gut. Who would want to pair up with the cursed child? As if sensing my despair, Professor Flitwick's bright blue eyes twinkled in my direction.

"Don't worry, Miss Y/L/N," he chirped, "there's always a perfect match for everyone!"

His words offered little comfort. The pairings continued, each giggling duo a stark reminder of my isolation. Just when I resigned myself to another solo project, a voice cut through the din.

"I'll pair with Y/L/N ."

The classroom fell silent. Heads swiveled in unison, disbelief etched on their faces. It was Mattheo Riddle, the Slytherin prince with a reputation as sharp as his intellect .

Professor Flitwick, however, beamed like a firework had gone off in his tiny fist. "Excellent choice, Mr. Riddle!"

My jaw dropped. Mattheo Riddle? Partnering with me ? the jinxing girl ? It was as unexpected as a dragon hatching a pixie. A ripple of surprised murmurs coursed through the class. Did he just volunteer? Was this a cruel joke?

stole a glance at Mattheo, half expecting a smirk or a sly wink that would shatter the illusion of kindness.

But instead, he met my gaze with a genuine, albeit hesitant, smile. It was a rare sight on his usually stoic face, a flicker of warmth that sent a jolt through me. He sauntered over, his confident stride somehow softened as he approached me.

"Fancy working together, (Y/N)?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. It was the first time he'd ever addressed me directly, to talk to , and the informality sent a wave of heat rushing to my cheeks.

"I... I uh, sure," I stammered, still struggling to process the situation.

Professor Flitwick launched into the specifics of the project, outlining the different magical creatures we could try conjuring. Mattheo, however, seemed more interested in me. He leaned closer, his voice barely a whisper.

"So," he began, his eyes twinkling with amusement, "what kind of magic are you most comfortable with love ?"he said, pulling up a chair next to me.

My heart skipped a beat. No one had ever used that term – "love" – with me before. It was a small word, but in that moment, it felt like a lifeline thrown across the chasm of isolation.

A hesitant smile tugged at my lips. "I, uh, I'm actually quite good with summoning charms," I confessed, surprised by my own boldness.

His smile widened. "Excellent," he said, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. "I'm more of a transfiguration specialist. We could combine our strengths."

Combine our strengths? The thought of working alongside Mattheo, of learning from him and maybe even teaching him a thing or two myself, sent a thrill through me.

A comfortable silence settled between us as we delved into the project details. Professor Flitwick's lecture faded into background noise . Mattheo surprised me with his easygoing nature, his sharp intellect tempered with a dry wit that made me laugh, a sound that felt foreign escaping my lips.

Finally, Professor Flitwick called out the end of class. "Alright, class! Dismissed! Remember, be creative, be precise, and most importantly, have fun!"

My heart still hammered in my chest, a mixture of trepidation and a strange, exhilarating thrill. Mattheo gathered his books, and as he turned to leave, he caught my eye “ see you around Y/L/N “

The crisp autumn air sent a shiver down my spine as I settled onto the worn wooden bench in the school gardens. pulled out the book I burrowed from the library earlier , determined to bury myself in its intricacies and forget the entire debacle.

The rhythmic crunch of gravel on the path drew my attention. I glanced up, bracing myself for another encounter with Pansy and her posse, only to find Mattheo approaching. His expression was unreadable, a mix of curiosity and something I couldn't quite decipher.

He stopped a few steps away, a silent question hanging in the air. Surprised, I stammered, "M-Mattheo? What are you doing here?"

A hint of a smile played at the corners of his lips. "Mind if I join you?" he asked, his voice softer than I was accustomed to hearing from him.

My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Was this real? "I, uh, sure," I managed, gesturing to the empty space beside me.

He sat down, our shoulders brushing slightly. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken words. Stealing a glance at him, I noticed his gaze fixed on the book in my lap. "Studying for the Charms exam?"

I shook my head. "Actually, this is more of a personal read. It's about obscure magical creatures."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh? Intriguing. Anything interesting?"

Hesitantly, I explained the book's exploration of Fae lore, their connection to emotions and the delicate balance they maintained with the human world.

To my surprise, Mattheo listened intently, occasionally asking insightful questions that sparked further discussion. We delved into the complexities of Fae magic, debated the ethics of human interaction with these mythical beings.

A playful glint flickered in his dark eyes, and a hint of a smile danced on his lips as he listened to my passionate explanation of Fae lore.

"Why – why are you smiling like that?" I asked hesitantly

"You just look so passionate about it," he explained, a genuine smile gracing his features.

"Actually, it’s totally my uncle fault he was the one who got me into it," I confessed, a fond smile playing on my lips. "He used to read me Fae tales before bed when I was young. Now here I am, analyzing their magical properties."

"Are you close with your uncle?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"Yeah, very close," I replied, then hesitated, a shadow crossing my face.

He picked up on the shift in my mood. "Everything okay?"

Taking a deep breath, I blurted out the question that had been gnawing at me since the library. "Why are you doing this, Mattheo? Is this a dare or something?"

He frowned, genuine confusion etched on his face. "Why would you say that?"

"You know," I rambled, gesturing at the empty garden around us. "Aren't you afraid?"

"Afraid of what?" He tilted his head, his dark eyes holding a hint of amusement.

My breath caught in my throat as he reached out, a playful glint in his eyes. He brushed a stray strand of hair from my face, sending shivers down my spine. "Me?" I whispered, barely a breath escaping my lips.

He smirked, amusement flickering across his face. "You look pretty cute to even scare a fly, love. Why should I be afraid of you?"

His words, laced with a hint of flirtation, left me speechless. His touch, light as a feather, lingered on my cheek, sending a jolt of electricity through me.

"You don't understand," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "Look at the garden, no one is here because I'm here. They believe... they believe —"

He cut me off before I could finish my frantic explanation. "But I'm here, aren't I, love?" he said, his voice a husky murmur. My heart pounded like a drum solo, the world around us seeming to fade away.

"You shouldn't be," I managed, my voice small and breathless. "I don't understand why."

"I'm not playing games with you, I promise," he replied, his voice firm. I hesitantly nodded, closing my eyes as the weight of his words settled upon me.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, a heavy sigh escaping my lips.

"Don't be," he said softly. "I understand. And you know what? I don't care what they say. And to be honest I don't even care if it was true..."

smiling , I looked up , meeting his gaze."So you're the first "

He leaned back, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "Let's just say," he began, his voice low and intriguing, "I know you weren't the reason Ronald broke his leg before the last Quidditch match."

A surprised laugh escaped my lips."And," he continued, his smile widening, "I also know that the explosion in Potions last year was entirely Harold's fault, not yours."

I burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the quiet garden. The weight of the whispers seemed to lift with each peal, replaced by a lightness I hadn't felt in years

"You were just there, like everybody else," he said, his voice tinged with amusement. "So why would you take the blame for that?"

He leaned forward, his face so close now that my laughter subsided, replaced by a nervous flutter in my chest. "You know what they say about what happened in first year," I began, voice barely above a whisper.

"It stays with you till your last," he finished the saying, his dark eyes holding mine. A grateful smile tugged at my lips.

"So when Charlie from down the street brought the rumors from our neighborhood to school, and then spread that story about me jinxing Seamus during his first Quidditch practice.. and let's just say Neville's unfortunate Gillyweed incident didn't help my case too so a that everybody seemed to believe it ," I explained, finally voicing the truth I hadn't thought anyone would ever be interested in hearing.

"That's not fair," Mattheo said, his voice firm.

"Yeah," I sighed, "but as my Nana always says, some children are born with tragedies in their hands." A bittersweet smile crossed my lips. "And by some children, she means me."

"She sounds like a cruel woman," he muttered.

I laughed, a touch brittle. "If you think my Nana is cruel, you should've met my mother then."

The words tumbled out before I could stop them, a confession I hadn't meant to share. My cheeks burned with a sudden, hot shame. Mattheo, however, didn't seem repulsed. In fact, his expression softened further.

My voice trailed off, the weight of the past suddenly overwhelming. Sharing a secret like that felt like opening a wound I'd painstakingly hidden for years. The air hung heavy with unspoken words, the setting sun casting long shadows across the quiet garden.

"I-I think I should get going," I stammered, pushing myself out of the chair, my resolve shaky at best.

A cool hand gripped my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. My breath hitched as I turned to face him , his gaze a storm of emotions swirling within its depths "Don't run away yet."

My cheeks burned even hotter, but I couldn't seem to tear my gaze away from his. "I'm not running," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't release my wrist. Instead, his grip softened, his thumb gently stroking a soothing circle against my skin. The simple touch sent a shiver down my spine, a stark contrast to the cold isolation I'd grown accustomed to.

"Then can I interest you in some Butterbeer tomorrow evening?" he asked, his voice laced with a playful charm. "Three Broomsticks, perhaps? We could continue our discussion about Fae magic, or maybe you could tell me more about your Nana and your… interesting family history."

A surprised laugh escaped my lips. The idea of spending another evening with Mattheo, outside the confines of a school project, sent a thrill through me.

A smile, genuine and unrestrained, bloomed on my face. "I'd like that," I replied, my voice a whisper against the backdrop of the settling evening.

Sleep that night was a distant dream. The events in the garden replayed in my mind on an endless loop. Mattheo's hand in mine, the warmth of his touch lingering like a phantom sensation, his unexpected concern for my story – it all sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

The morning sun filtering through my dormitory window found me wide awake, staring at the ceiling with a tangled mess of hair and a giddy smile plastered on my face.

But then came the most agonizing decision of the day – what to wear? My trunk overflowed with the usual witchy robes, all shades of black and grey. None seemed appropriate for a… date? Was it a date? My cheeks burned at the thought.

Finally, I settled on a compromise. A dark green skirt that swirled around my knees, a crisp black blouse , and my trusty black boots. It wasn't extravagant, but it felt… me.

The walk to the Three Broomsticks was a mess a disaster as I was trying to figure out the right direction . As I pushed open the creaky oak door,I tried to breathe and calm my self down, My eyes scanned the room, searching for Mattheo amidst the bustling patrons.

And then I saw him, tucked away in a corner booth, a solitary figure amidst the chatter and laughter. Relief washed over me, followed by a jolt of something warmer as our eyes met. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he gestured for me to join him.

My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I walked towards him, a self-conscious fluttering in my stomach. Reaching the table, I slid into the booth opposite him.

his gaze lingering a beat longer than necessary on my face. "you..," he finally said, a low whistle escaping his lips. "You look..." he trailed off, searching for the right word.

My cheeks flushed a rosy hue . "I look?"

A slow smile spread across his face. "Radiant," he finished, his voice a husky murmur.

My breath hitched. No one had ever used that word to describe me before. "Radiant?" I repeated, a nervous laugh escaping my lips.

"Absolutely," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Though, I have to say, for a second I thought you weren’t coming “

“ oh I’m so sorry I was just trying to find the way I, uh, I've never actually been to the Three Broomsticks before," I admitted, hoping to deflect from his unexpected compliment.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Never? But it's practically a Hogwarts tradition!"

. "I guess I've been more focused on the library and…avoiding crowds."

A flicker of understanding crossed his face. "Well, consider this your official initiation," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Prepare to be overwhelmed by sticky tables, questionable singing."

The waitress returned with our drinks, placing them carefully on the table.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, momentarily shattering our peaceful bubble. A boisterous group of students, their laughter echoing through the room, flooded in. My stomach lurched as I recognized them – Charlie Spinnet , flanked by his usual entourage of Crabbe and Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson, her face twisted in a sneer.

Unlike the usual sneer of Pansy Parkinson, Charlie's expression was a confusing mix of anger and… was that a hint of disappointment ? He locked eyes with me, and for a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of something more complex in his gaze before it hardened back into a scowl.

Before I could decipher the meaning of it all, Pansy spotted us. Her voice, dripping with her usual malice, sliced through the warm bubble we'd created. "Look who is there," she drawled, directing a flirtatious smile towards Mattheo. "Hello there, Riddle."

Mattheo responded with his trademark icy drawl, "Parkinson. Always a pleasure."

She gave a curt nod before returning to her group. Charlie, however, didn't follow. His gaze remained fixed on me, an unsettling intensity in his eyes. I met his stare, a knot of unease forming in my gut.

"He's jealous," Mattheo said casually, leaning back in his seat. My jaw dropped.

"Jealous? Of what?" I stammered, completely bewildered.

"He likes you ," he replied with a knowing smirk.

A bewildered laugh escaped my lips. "He likes me ? Mattheo, the boy ruined my life" I interjected, my voice laced with a sharp edge. In truth, life hadn't been a cakewalk before Hogwarts either.

Just then, a loud shattering sound erupted from our table, sending shivers down my spine. My cup of butterbeer, which Charlie had probably targeted with a stray jinx spell , lay in pieces on the floor. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the pub as everyone turned to stare

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to control the spike of panic rising in my chest. This was exactly what I'd feared. when I opened my eyes again, my gaze met Mattheo's.

Unlike me, he wasn't angry. Instead, a mischievous glint sparkled in his dark eyes. he was smirking.

"So, you said this is your first time at the Three Broomsticks, love?" he asked, a playful smile on his lips as he stood up. I felt a pit forming in my stomach, unsure of where this was headed.

"Yeah," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Then let's make it unforgettable," he declared, his smile widening. He turned towards Charlie's table, his gaze locking onto Charlie's. Pansy, who had been watching the exchange with a mixture of amusement and apprehension, suddenly looked terrified.

Mattheo strolled over to their table, a confident swagger in his step. Reaching down, he casually lifted Charlie's untouched butterbeer He held it out to me with a charming smile. "Here, love," he said, not sparing Charlie a glance.

Charlie watched the exchange, his jaw clenched. "Is there anything you want to say, Spinnet?" Mattheo asked, his voice deceptively calm. Charlie just shook his head.

"Do you like toads?" Mattheo asked again a question so out of place it left us all speechless.

"S-seems like I do," Charlie stammered, his voice barely a squeak.

"Good," Mattheo said simply.

Then, in a blink, it happened. A blinding flash of light erupted from Mattheo's outstretched wand, enveloping Charlie. Before anyone could react, the speechless Charlie had vanished, replaced by a , green toad hopping comically on the table.

My scream was lost in the cacophony of shouts and gasps. Pansy let out a bloodcurdling shriek, scrambling back in her chair. Crabbe, for once, looked utterly bewildered.

Mattheo remained calm amidst the chaos, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Ignoring the stunned patrons, he reached for his pocket and placed a couple of pills on our table.

"I would take him back to the castle if I were you," he said to Pansy with a chilling smile. "Unless you prefer the company of amphibians."

Pansy was speechless, her face pale with a mixture of fear and fury. All she could manage was a strangled, "Merlin's Beard!"

Turning back to me, Mattheo offered his hand with his usual nonchalant charm. "Shall we go, love?" he asked, his voice a gentle contrast to the chaos he'd just unleashed.

We walked in comfortable silence for a while, following the familiar path towards the Black Lake. Finally, we reached the water's edge, the gentle lapping of waves against the shore providing a soothing counterpoint to the earlier frenzy. Mattheo gestured towards a large, flat rock nestled under a willow tree. "Mind joining me?" he asked, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

I nodded, still processing the events of the evening. Charlie's transformation, Pansy's terror, it was all a bit surreal. Sitting down on the rock, I pulled my knees to my chest, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me.

"So," Mattheo began, a playful lilt to his voice, "first date, and I turn your potential bully into a toad. Not exactly the charming introduction I was hoping for."

I glanced at him, surprised. "Date?" I stammered, a blush creeping up my cheeks.

His smile softened. "Well," he began, " we did ditch the project discussion for butterbeer and…, then turning someone into a toad… definitely not your typical Tuesday."

I couldn't help but laugh, My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. "I… I never thought…" I stammered, completely flustered.

He reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His touch sent shivers down my spine. "Neither did I," he confessed, his voice surprisingly soft.

"Thank you," I said, taking a deep breath, " it's the first time anyone has ever defended me like that. Not since my Uncle."

Mattheo's smile softened. "Well," he said, his voice gentle, "consider me your knight in slightly-unconventional-Slytherin-armor then."

I laughed a blush crept up my cheek

Silence descended between us, broken only by the gentle chirping of crickets and the lapping of the lake.

"You mentioned your Uncle," Mattheo said, his voice curious. "Tell me about him."

"He's a bit of a character," I began, a smile playing on my lips. "He travels the world, studying ancient magic. He's probably in some remote location right now, chasing myths and legends he’s so brave ."

"Sounds fascinating," Mattheo commented, his voice laced with genuine interest. "But you're not close with anyone else in your family?"

The question hung in the air, and I hesitated for a moment, unsure how much to reveal. But something about the sincerity in his eyes, made me want to share a part of myself I rarely opened up about.

"Well, I'm not exactly their favorite," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "You see, my arrival wasn't exactly... welcomed."

Mattheo's brow furrowed in concern. "What do you mean?" he asked gently.

Taking a deep breath, I plunged into the murky waters of my past. "My mother ,she found out she was pregnant with me. At the same time, she learned about my late brother's… illness. He died tragically, just two days before I was born."

"She… she blamed me," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. "She believed I somehow took his place, that I was the reason he was gone."

He squeezed my hand gently, as if offering silent comfort.

"And your father?" he asked, his voice low and controlled.

"My father," I said, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "He said I stole his son's place. He never showed me any affection, always seeing a shadow of my brother instead of me."

My throat tightened, and I struggled to continue.

"But then there’s nana … well, she is a healer," I began, taking a shaky breath"She believed in a strange kind of balance. She used to say, 'A soul for a soul.'" A shiver ran down my spine as I recalled the chilling words. "'Sometimes,' she'd say, 'life takes one thing and gives another’. She just wished it had been my brother who lived."

"Y/N," he said, his voice low and serious. "That's a terrible thing to say to a child. None of that is your fault. You didn't ask to be born, and you certainly didn't cause your brother's illness."

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. The weight of their rejection, the constant reminder that I was somehow unwanted, had always been a heavy burden to carry.

Then, with a tenderness that took my breath away, he brushed his thumb across my cheek, wiping away a stray tear. The simple gesture, so full of empathy and understanding, felt like a dam breaking inside me. The tears that I'd been holding back spilled over, flowing freely down my cheeks.

Mattheo didn't flinch. He didn't pull away. He simply sat there, his hand cupping my face, his gaze holding mine with an intensity that both scared and excited me.

In a voice barely above a whisper, he said, "They don't deserve you , Not your mother, not your father, not sure your weird grandmother . They are blind to the incredible person you are."

His words, sincere and heartfelt, washed over me like a soothing balm.

"You are strong," he continued, his voice husky with emotion. "You are brave. You are kind. You carry the weight of their cruelty, yet you remain kind. That is a strength they will never possess."

His thumb continued to brush away my tears, his touch sending shivers down my spine.

As he spoke, the space between our faces seemed to shrink. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my lips, his gaze holding mine captive. The air crackled with a tension that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Then, before I could even think to stop him, Mattheo leaned in closer. The world around us seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of his hand on my face and the anticipation building within me.

His lips met mine in a soft, tentative kiss. It was a fleeting touch, barely a whisper, yet it sent a jolt of electricity through me.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. A nervous smile tugged at the corner of his lips.," is this your first kiss? “ he murmured, his voice husky.

A slow nod confirmed his suspicion , he leaned in again, this time deepening the kiss. This kiss was different – moving with a rhythmic dance that spoke volumes of unspoken emotions.

When we finally broke apart, breathless and slightly dazed, a blush crept up my cheeks. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo echoing in the quiet night.The taste of his lips lingered on mine, a sweet and intoxicating sensation that left me craving more.

"So," he said, his voice slightly breathless. "Forget everything I said about first impressions being unforgettable. Maybe this is a better way to start things off."

The next weeks unfolded like a whirlwind. Mattheo became a constant presence in my life, his shadow seemingly falling across mine with an uncanny frequency. Whether it was bumping into him "accidentally" on my way to Herbology, finding him "coincidentally" seated across from me in the library buried in the same obscure text on Fae magic, or him "miraculously" appearing just as I was leaving the Great Hall, it was clear he was making a concerted effort to be around me.

His tactics, though slightly obvious, were nonetheless charming. He started leaving small gifts on my desk – a fascinating book on Veela lore, a single perfect white rose

No one had ever gone out of their way to make me feel special before. Mattheo was doing just that, chip by chip, breaking down the walls I'd built around myself.

His "accidental" helpfulness extended to academics as well. He started leaving me beautifully illustrated books on ancient magic, conveniently "forgotten" on my desk. During Potions, he'd mysteriously materialize behind me just as I was about to accidentally add Flobberworm mucus to my Amortentia potion (a near disaster that could have had…interesting consequences).

One afternoon, while struggling with a particularly complex Transfiguration spell, Mattheo walked in on my frustration. He didn't laugh or poke fun,Instead, he sat down beside me, his patience as impressive as his knowledge. He explained the spell with a clarity I hadn't experienced before, his hand brushing against mine as he pointed something out on my parchment.

By the end of the week, I'd not only mastered the spell but found myself drawn to Mattheo in a way I hadn't before.

Mattheo's efforts extended beyond "accidents." He started introducing me to his friends. Theo and blaise ,Then there was Enzo, Mattheo's half-brother. With his playful demeanor and infectious laugh, Enzo made me feel welcome within their circle. I found myself enjoying their company, their camaraderie a stark contrast to the loneliness I had grown accustomed to.

One evening, while studying in the common room, , Enzo, sauntered over , He slid into the seat next to me, ignoring Mattheo's glare.

"Hey there, love," Enzo said, his voice dripping with a flirtatiousness that made me feel uncomfortable. "Studying hard?"

Before I could respond, Mattheo spoke up. "Enzo, perhaps you haven't noticed, but Y/N is busy."

Enzo simply chuckled. "Relax, brother. Just trying to be friendly." He leaned in closer to me

Enzo whispered, "He can be quite possessive, don’t you agree?" I couldn’t help but laugh, which was Mattheo’s last straw.

"Back off, Enzo," the words laced with barely contained anger , Enzo smiled and with a shrug and a playful wink at me, he sauntered away.

The most surprising consequence, however, was the complete absence of whispers. The rumors that had plagued me since childhood seemed to vanish overnight. Not a single snide remark, not a single pointed finger. The silence was deafening, and yet, strangely comforting.

Was it fear of Mattheo, or something more? Either way, I didn't question my newfound peace.

The stolen moments with Mattheo became a cherished secret language.

One particularly rainy evening, after a long and tedious double Potions lesson, Mattheo found me huddled in the deserted library, desperately trying (and failing) to decipher a particularly cryptic passage in a dusty old tome.

"Having trouble with the love language of Goblins, love?" he drawled, his voice a welcome sound in the quiet of the library.

I looked up, startled, my cheeks flushing at the sight of him. "Mattheo, you scared me!"

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "Just offering my expertise in the finer points of ancient languages," he said, a playful glint in his eyes.

He pulled up a chair next to me, the scent of his cologne filling my senses. As he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper as he attempted to translate the passage, a spark ignited between us.

Emboldened by the privacy of the deserted library and the frustration of the Gobbledegook text, I turned to face him, my lips brushing against his ear as I pointed to a particularly confusing line.

Suddenly, the air crackled with unspoken desire. Mattheo's hand cupped my cheek, his thumb gently tracing the line of my jaw. His gaze held mine, a storm brewing in its depths.

"There's another way to learn this language," he murmured, his voice husky with suppressed longing.

Before I could respond, he closed the gap between us. The kiss was different this time. It was slow, searing, filled with a raw emotion that sent shivers down my spine. It was a kiss that spoke not just of affection, but of a growing possessiveness, a silent claim on my heart.

We pulled away breathlessly, foreheads resting together. The quiet of the library thrummed with the intensity of the unspoken words hanging in the air.

"Maybe Gobbledegook isn't so bad after all," I finally whispered, a shy smile playing on my lips.

Mattheo chuckled, a deep sound that resonated within me. "Perhaps not," he agreed, his eyes lingering on mine for a beat longer than necessary.

One blustery afternoon, while seeking refuge from a sudden downpour in a hidden alcove near the greenhouses, we found ourselves alone. The air crackled with unspoken tension as we stood shoulder-to-shoulder, the rain drumming a steady rhythm on the stone walls.

He cleared his throat, his gaze flickering from my face to the storm raging outside. "This weather is something else, isn't it?" he said, his voice barely a whisper above the wind.

"Unpredictable, like magic itself," I replied, my own voice barely a murmur.

Suddenly, he turned to face me, his eyes a storm brewing within them. Before I could react, he cupped my face in his hands, his touch sending shivers down my spine. The space between us evaporated as he leaned in, his breath warm against my cheek.

"You're unpredictable too, Y/N," he murmured, his voice husky with something raw and primal. "In the best way possible."

And then, he kissed me. It was a kiss unlike any I'd ever experienced. It was fierce and passionate, filled with a yearning that mirrored my own.

I was hunched over a particularly dense text on Herbology, wrestling with the intricacies of magical plant growth, when a shadow fell across the page.

Looking up, I met Mattheo's gaze, a teasing glint in his dark eyes. "Lost in the world of Venomous Tentacula again, love?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine.

I swatted playfully at his hand, a smile tugging at my lips. "These Bulbadox Bulbs are more stubborn than they look," I grumbled.

He chuckled, leaning closer. "Maybe they just need the right touch," he murmured, his breath warm on my ear.

Before I could react, he reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against the offending passage. A jolt of electricity shot through me, my heart skipping a beat. He lingered for a moment too long, his touch sending goosebumps erupting across my skin.

"See?" he said, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Sometimes understanding comes from a different kind of connection."

His words were a playful jab, but the intensity of his gaze held a deeper meaning. I felt my cheeks flush, a secret smile spreading across my face.

"Maybe," I replied, unable to tear my gaze from his.

The silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken emotions. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, Mattheo leaned in further. His lips brushed against the sensitive skin of my neck, sending a wave of warmth cascading through me.

It was a soft, lingering exploration. He trailed a finger down my neck, sending shivers dancing across my exposed skin. My breath hitched in my throat, and I leaned back into his touch, a helpless moan escaping my lips.

He chuckled against my skin, a low, throaty sound that sent a delicious tremor through me. "You should see the way you blush, Y/N," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

My cheeks burned even hotter. This wasn't the stolen kiss under the moonlight, this was something more intimate, more raw. It was a secret shared between us, a confirmation of the growing connection that thrummed beneath the surface.

Suddenly, the library door slammed open, shattering the intimate moment. Madam Pince, the stern librarian, swept in, her beady eyes scanning the room. Mattheo and I both straightened up, a sheepish grin on his face.

"No hanky-panky in the Restricted Section, young man," Madam Pince barked, her voice laced with suspicion.

Mattheo, ever the charmer, flashed her a boyish grin. "Just helping a friend with her research, Madam Pince," he said, his voice dripping with mock innocence.

Madam Pince narrowed her eyes at us for a moment longer before muttering something about "frivolous students" and disappearing behind a towering bookshelf.

As soon as she was gone, Mattheo let out a low whistle, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Looks like we've been caught," he said, a hint of regret in his voice.

I couldn't help but laugh, the tension broken. "Maybe we should stick to the Herbology section next time," I teased, butterflies still fluttering in my stomach from his touch.

He took my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine. "Maybe," he agreed, his eyes holding mine. "But who knows what secrets lurk in the Restricted Section?"

Suddenly, a voice broke through my concentration. "Y/N!"

I looked up to see Charlie Spinnet standing awkwardly in front of me, a hopeful smile plastered on his face. My stomach lurched, a flicker of unease coursing through me.

"Charlie," I stammered, unsure of what to say.

"Hey," he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Before I could answer, mattheo’s voice cut in, laced with a dangerous edge.

"Actually, she can't," Mattheo drawled, His eyes narrowed at Charlie, a dark glint flickering within them.

Charlie gulped, his hopeful smile faltering. "M-Mattheo," he stammered. "I just wanted to…"

"Whatever it is," Mattheo interrupted, his voice low and cold, "it can wait."

The tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife. My heart hammered against my ribs, caught between the awkwardness of Charlie's unexpected presence and the possessiveness radiating from Mattheo.

"But—" Charlie began, but Mattheo cut him off again.

"No buts, Spinnet," Mattheo said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Now, if you'll excuse us,"

He took my hand possessively, his fingers wrapping around mine with a force that left no room for argument. Before Charlie could stammer another word, Mattheo practically dragged me away.

We walked in silence for a moment, the only sound our hurried footsteps echoing through the empty corridor. My cheeks burned with a mixture of annoyance and a strange sense of… satisfaction?

"Mattheo, that was a bit harsh," I finally said, breaking the silence.

He stopped abruptly, turning to face me. His gaze was intense, a storm brewing within its depths.

"He shouldn't have bothered you," he said, his voice low and possessive.

"He was just trying to talk to me," I pointed out, a hint of defiance creeping into my voice.

"And what exactly did he want to talk about?" Mattheo challenged, his jaw clenched.

"I don't know," I admitted, shrugging my shoulders. "But I should have been allowed to find out, shouldn't I?"

Mattheo seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment, his emotions flickering across his face. Finally, he sighed, the tension slowly ebbing away.

"Look," he said, his voice softer now, "I just… don't like the idea of someone else getting close to you."

My heart skipped a beat. Was he… jealous?

"Why not?" I couldn't help but ask, a teasing smile playing on my lips.

He hesitated – a rare sight that sent a thrill through me.

"Because…" he stammered, searching for the right words. "Because maybe you mean more to me than I care to admit."

The words hung in the air. A smile bloomed on my face, wider than it had in weeks.

"Is that so, Riddle?" I said, my voice barely a whisper.

He met my gaze, his eyes filled with a newfound vulnerability. Leaning in closer, he brushed a stray strand of hair from my face with his thumb.

"Maybe it is," he murmured, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to mine.

Before we could explore that maybe any further, a loud cough echoed through the corridor. We sprang apart, startled, to see a smirking Enzo leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed.

"Oh please don’t let me stop you ," he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Mattheo scowled, his usual bravado returning. "Get lost, Enzo," he snapped.

Enzo, unfazed, simply chuckled. "Just making sure you're not neglecting your studies, brother dearest," he said, his voice dripping with mock concern. "Professor Flitwick wouldn't be happy if he caught you missing his lecture because you can’t keep your hands to yourself those days "

My cheeks burned even hotter. "We weren't… ," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

Enzo chuckled. "Whatever you say, sweetheart . But don't worry, your secret's safe with me." He leaned in conspiratorially. "Though, if you're looking for a more private place next time, I know a few hidden alcoves that are perfect for… well, you get the idea."

"Thanks, Enzo," I said smiling trying to get away from this conversation as fast as possible .

"Anytime," he replied, throwing a playful two-finger salute before disappearing back down the corridor.

Mattheo and I stared at each other for a long moment, the tension thick in the air.

"I think I need to go …" I began, unsure how to proceed “ see you at ummm….”

"...Great Hall," Mattheo finished my sentence, his voice laced with a hint of disappointment. Though his earlier possessiveness had surprised me, I couldn't deny a flicker of warmth at his reluctance to see me go.

"Yeah, the Great Hall," I confirmed, unable to meet his gaze for too long. The lingering confession, the stolen moment almost-kiss, hung heavy between us.

As I sank deeper into the worn armchair, a group of giggling Gryffindor girls approached, their chatter drawing my attention.

"Y/N!" Lavender Brown announced, her voice bright with excitement. "Did you hear? There's supposed to be a total lunar eclipse tonight!"

My heart skipped a beat. A lunar eclipse? A shiver of excitement ran down my spine. For the first time in years, I hadn't even been aware of such an event. But more importantly, they were inviting me.

Parvati Patil chimed in, her dark eyes sparkling. "We're all planning to gather near the lake to watch. It's supposed to be incredible! Are you coming?"

"I…" I stammered, unsure how to respond.

"Oh, come on, Y/N," Padma, Parvati's twin, nudged me playfully. "It'll be fun! We can all gossip and make wishes under the moonlight."

A lump formed in my throat. It was a simple question, but it felt monumental. An invitation to not just witness a celestial phenomenon, but to be included, to be a part of something.

For a moment, I simply stared at them, my mind struggling to process the shift. Was this real? Did they genuinely want me to join them?

"I don't know," I mumbled, looking down at my shoes. "Maybe…"

"Don't worry, Y/N," Lavender reassured me, sensing my hesitation. "It's up to you. But if you do decide to come, we'd love to have you."

With a warm smile, they turned to leave, their excited chatter fading as they descended the stairs. I watched them go, a wave of indecisiveness washing over me.

The rest of day went by quickly as I was still thinking about the invitation then mattheo I looked around searching for him

I spotted him by the courtyard, leaning against a stone pillar, his usual air of nonchalance masking a hint of concern. As I approached, he pushed himself off the pillar and met my gaze.

"Hey," he said, his voice laced with a question as his eyes scanned my face.

"Hi, Mattheo," I replied hesitantly.

"Everything alright?" he asked, his brow furrowed. He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from my eye with a gentle touch .

Taking a deep breath, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "There's a lunar eclipse tonight, did you know?"

He blinked, surprised by the abrupt change of subject. "A lunar eclipse?" he echoed.

"Yeah," I said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "Apparently, it's supposed to be the biggest one in years. Everyone's going down by the Black Lake to watch it."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Everyone, huh?" he said, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Well," I admitted, feeling my cheeks flush, "not everyone. But some people. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil invited me, and…"

I trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence. Did I dare ask him to join me?

"And?" Mattheo prompted, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"And," I mumbled, looking down at my shoes, "I was wondering… would you maybe want to come with me?"

The playful smile vanished, replaced by a look of genuine surprise. "With you?" he echoed.

I looked back up at him, my heart pounding in my chest. "Yeah," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "If you want to, of course."

He held my gaze for a long moment, the silence stretching between us. Then, a slow smile spread across his face, warm and genuine.

"I'd like that very much, love ," he said, his voice a low rumble.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues of orange and pink, I made my way towards the Black Lake. The crisp autumn air buzzed with excited chatter as students from all houses gathered, blankets and snacks in tow, eager to witness the celestial spectacle.

A warm hand brushed against mine, sending a jolt through my system. Turning, I met Mattheo's gaze, a spark of amusement dancing in his eyes. He wore a casual smirk, but the way his hand lingered on mine spoke volumes.

he breathed, taking in the scene before him. "Didn't expect the whole school to be here."

I chuckled. "Apparently, lunar eclipses are kind of a big deal."

We weaved through the crowd, Lavender and Parvati waving to us over Theo , Enzo even Blaise was there too that was really unexpected . We settled in, surrounded by the cheerful chatter and laughter.

As the moon began to cast its silvery glow, a hush fell over the crowd. Everyone turned their eyes skyward, captivated by the gradual darkening of Earth's natural satellite. Mattheo, however, seemed more interested in me than the moon. His hand brushed mine again, sending a delicious shiver down my spine.

Leaning closer, he whispered in my ear, his voice husky and warm. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

I nodded, unable to tear my gaze from his face. "It is," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

He tilted his head slightly, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to mine. Just as I thought he was about to kiss me, his voice dipped even lower.

"come with me. "

The surprise on my face must have been evident. "Where?" I stammered.

he said, a playful glint in his eyes. "Trust me, it'll be worth it."

We walked for what felt like an eternity, the only sounds the crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional rustle in the bushes. The air grew thicker the deeper we ventured, and a sense of unease gnawed at the edges of my excitement. Just as I was about to voice my concerns, Mattheo came to a stop in front of a section of gnarled oak trees, their branches intertwined in an almost unnatural way.

"Here?" I asked, eyeing the dense foliage with suspicion.

He smirked, his eyes gleaming in the faint moonlight that filtered through the canopy. "Here," he confirmed, stepping forward and pushing aside a thick curtain woven from the very leaves themselves.

To my astonishment, a hidden passage unfolded behind the makeshift doorway. A narrow path, barely wide enough for two people, stretched into the darkness, illuminated faintly by glowing mushrooms that dotted the damp stone walls.

My initial apprehension warred with the budding trust I felt for Mattheo. Taking a deep breath, I gripped his hand tighter. "What is it?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Just trust me," he murmured, his touch surprisingly gentle.

We walked in silence, the air growing colder and the earthy scent more pronounced. The path eventually led to a sturdy wooden door hidden within the rocky wall. Mattheo pushed it open, revealing a sight that took my breath away.

It was a small, circular room, but its crowning glory was a large, arched window that took up most of one wall. Through it, the eclipse was on full display, the shadowed moon hanging in the inky black sky. But unlike the darkness of the forest, here, the view was clear and breathtaking

I breathed, my surprise echoing in the stillness of the night.

Mattheo chuckled, a hint of pride in his voice. "Told you it was worth it."

"This is…" I stammered, searching for the right words. "Amazing."

Mattheo smiled, his hand moving to brush a stray curl from my face. “We found this place a while back," he explained. "It's kind of a secret."

He pulled me towards the window, his arm wrapping around my waist, stood behind me , gazing up at the celestial phenomenon unfolding above us. The darkness, once menacing, now seemed like a vast, inky canvas upon which the eclipse played out.

"It's even more breathtaking from here, isn't it?" Mattheo whispered, his voice warm against my ear. , his words laced with something more than just the wonder of the eclipse.

I could only nod, my throat suddenly dry. The beauty of the celestial spectacle was undeniable, but it paled in comparison to the feelings Mattheo was stirring within me.

A warmth bloomed in my chest, a response that surprised even me. Mattheo's presence, so close and unexpected in this hidden haven, sent a delicious shiver down my spine.

As if sensing my shift, his arm tightened around my waist, pulling me closer. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the backdrop of the crackling fire.

Then, his lips brushed against my ear again. This time, the words were different. Softer, more intimate. "You're even more breathtaking," he murmured, his voice sending shivers down my neck.

My eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze reflected in the moonlight filtering through the window. The eclipse, forgotten for a moment, seemed to cast an ethereal glow on his features, highlighting the intensity in his eyes.

Before I could form a coherent thought, his lips met mine. The kiss was tentative at first, a soft exploration that sent a wave of warmth through me. Instinctively, I reached up, my fingers finding purchase on his arm.

A contented sigh escaped his lips as he deepened the kiss, his hand finding mine and intertwining our fingers. The touch sent a jolt through me, a current of electricity that ignited a fire within.

When he finally pulled away, a breathless gasp escaped my lips. My cheeks burned, my heart hammered a wild rhythm against my ribs. A shy smile tugged at the corner of my lips.

His gaze never left mine.He leaned down again, his lips trailing a path of fire down my neck. He paused at a sensitive spot just below my ear, sending a jolt of pleasure through me.

Unable to hold back a moan, I arched my neck into his touch, a silent plea for more. His hand reached down, skimming the curve of my hip before settling lightly on my lower back as I felt the wall behind us

He was going to stop I know that he was going to hold back again "Wait," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. Looking into his eyes, I saw a storm of emotions – frustration, amusement. It was a look that made my heart skip a beat, a look that made me feel a dangerous mix of power and surrender.

"I want to " I stammered, unsure how to articulate the jumbled mess of emotions swirling within me.

"You sure?" he asked, his voice husky with suppressed desire.

Taking a deep breath, I blurted out, "I want this, Mattheo. I mean…I've never done this before, but I trust you. And I want it."

"Let's take things slow, alright?" He whispered softly in my ear and i nodded, his lips finding their way back to my neck, tracing over the mark he had just left behind.

"Mattheo," I moaned when he nipped at the same spot again, his teeth sharp and his lips unyielding.

"God my name sounds like heaven from your lips" he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear.

"Have you ever touched yourself, love?" His question caught me off guard, my breath catching in my throat as I shook my head. I had wanted to try but never mustered the courage.

"It's okay, my love," he reassured, his hands sliding under my top, caressing my skin with a tender touch that sent shivers down my spine.Then he gently pushed me up, settling me on the nearest table. "I'll take care of you."

Pressing more kisses to my neck, his hands moved to my hips, his fingers digging into my skin as he lifted my skirt slightly. "Is this alright?" he asked, his breath hot against my neck.I smiled at him and nodded again

“I’m going to touch you now, Just tell me when you want to stop, and I promise I’ll end it,” said with determination, his fingers brushing my cheek i nodded leaned forward to kiss him instead of just responding.

He did as he told , his fingers sliding into my pants proceeded slowly, finding my most sensitive spot, eliciting pleasurable sensations that made me arch my back and cling to him.

slowly rubbing circles around it. He used light pressure, but it felt amazing. His gaze intently watched my response, figuring out what i like.

He picked up the pace and pressure, sending pleasurable shocks through my body. my back arched as the ache between my legs increased. 

“God you’re so wet for me." he whispered, his voice filled with awe and desire. "Does it feel good?"

“ Yes , it feels so good.” I moaned softly, my voice barely audible as waves of pleasure washed over me.

"Can I?" he asked, seeking my consent.

"Yes, please," I begged, my desperation evident in my voice.

"It might feel strange at first, but I promise it will get better quickly," he reassured, and I nodded in agreement. With my consent, his finger slid between my folds, eliciting a soft moan from my lips. My hands found their way to his shoulders as I rested my head against them.

"Breathe, my love," he whispered, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of pleasure. I obeyed, inhaling deeply as a symphony of moans escaped my mouth, each one a testament to the pleasure coursing through my body.

"Mattheo," I moaned, his name a mantra on my lips.

"Yes, love. Talk to me," he encouraged, his movements slowing to allow me to catch my breath.

"There's something..." I tried to say, but pleasure engulfed me, leaving me speechless.

His lips found mine, his kisses distracting me from my thoughts as I succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure he offered.

"Just let go for me," he whispered against my lips, his breath igniting a fire within me that sent me spiraling into bliss.

His thumb applied pressure to my clit, sending electrifying waves of pleasure through my body. I gripped his shoulder tightly as he carefully added another finger, causing me to close my eyes in ecstasy.

"Don't close your eyes, love. Look at me," he urged, his voice filled with desire and a hint of command. I obeyed, locking eyes with him as his fingers found that specific spot inside me, unleashing a sensation I had never experienced before. It was so intense that I couldn't contain my scream of pleasure, feeling like I was soaring among the clouds.

He continued to target that spot, his gaze fixed on me as if he could read my every reaction. With a satisfied smile, he spoke soft words in my ear , reveling in my response.

His touch remained gentle yet firm, guiding me through the waves of pleasure until I reached the pinnacle, my body trembling in his embrace as I experienced a euphoric release unlike anything before.

"It's alright, I'm here," he murmured, his words a soothing balm as I surrendered to the pleasure that consumed me.

As I floated back to reality, I found myself in his arms, his gaze filled with tenderness and adoration. He leaned in, capturing my lips in a deep, passionate kiss that spoke volumes of unspoken emotions.

"Maybe you mean more to me than I care to admit too , riddle," I repeated his earlier words. But what I truly wanted to express was that, ,I think I'm in love with you, Mattheo Riddle.’

From that night onward, everything shifted, and my life transformed into a fairy tale. The intensity of my feelings for him grew so profound that a day without seeing Mattheo felt like an eternity, leaving me yearning for his presence. He cherished me as if I were the most precious gem in his life, and to say that I loved him would be an understatement; my emotions ran deeper than mere words could express.

Despite our unspoken declarations of love, we refrained from exploring further sexual intimacy after that intense encounter. However, the desire and longing between us only grew stronger, leaving me yearning for more moments of intimacy with him. Each kiss, touch, and gaze across the room spoke volumes of the love we shared, even if the three words were never verbalized.

The end-of-year party hosted by Slytherin was a legendary affair, whispered about in hushed tones by those who had attended in previous years. Despite hearing countless tales about the extravagant festivities, I had never been tempted to go, for me, it had always been an off-limits fantasy , one I didn't dare to try and make true.

As the "jinx girl", stepping foot into such a renowned event felt like a risky move. The thought of facing judgment, scrutiny, and potentially being ostracized by my peers held me back from even considering attending.

However, in those few months everything changed. I found myself shedding my inhibitions and fears, stepping out of my comfort zone and embracing new experiences. The bonds I formed with other Slytherins grew stronger, and I even made friends outside of Mattheo's circle, feeling more at ease and confident in social settings.

The Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry was as legendary as the end-of-year party itself. This year, however, a shared misfortune had united the two houses in a grudging camaraderie. Professor Flitwick, bless his innocent heart, had stumbled upon Blaise Zabini and a very surprised Gryffindor tangled together in a rather compromising position in a dusty basement corridor. Let's just say, both houses lost a significant number of points, paving the way for Ravenclaw to snatch the coveted House Cup in a landslide victory.

So, as the day of the party approached, a thrill of anticipation danced in my stomach.

"Mattheo," I said, catching his attention as I approached him and his friends. He gently guided me to sit next to him, holding my hands with a tender touch

“ yes love ? “

"Are we… are we going to the party tonight?" I asked, trying to gauge his reaction.

He looked up, surprise flickering across his face. "The party?" he echoed, raising an eyebrow. "You… you want to go?"

I felt a flicker of self-consciousness, but I held his gaze. "Yeah," I admitted.

“Honestly, Y/N," he said, "it's a bit… childish."

"Childish?" I repeated, surprised. "But everyone says it's a lot of fun!"

Enzo, chimed in with a shrug. "He has a point. It's mostly just first years causing mayhem."

There it was , that hesitation. Mattheo rarely said no to anything I asked.

He studied me for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features. He glanced at Enzo, exchanging a silent communication that left me puzzled.I don’t really understand I know they used to go every year .

He looked at me for a long moment, his dark eyes searching mine. Then, a slow smile spread across his face.

"Alright then love ," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "If you want to, then we'll go."

The Slytherin common room was a whirlwind of emerald and silver. Green streamers snaked across the ceiling, enchanted banners proclaimed Slytherin victory in various forgotten contests, and a cacophony of music and laughter filled the air. My heart pounded with excitement, a delightful mix of anticipation and nerves.

The atmosphere was vibrant, filled with laughter and music. Everyone seemed genuinely happy to have me there, chatting and mingling as if I had been a regular attendee for years.

However, what struck me as odd was how Mattheo and Enzo never left my side. It was as if they were guarding me, anticipating something that I wasn't aware of. Despite their usual easygoing demeanor, there was a sense of alertness in their actions that left me curious and slightly uneasy.

As the night progressed, I couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched, not in a malicious way, but more like a protective gaze. Mattheo and Enzo's constant presence by my side felt both comforting and unsettling at the same time.

I tried to brush off my unease and enjoy the party, engaging in conversations and joining in on the festivities. However, the nagging feeling that something was amiss lingered in the back of my mind.

It wasn't until later in the evening, when Mattheo and Enzo exchanged a meaningful glance, that I realized there was more to their protective behavior than met the eye.

Chaos erupted in the common room as Charlie Spinnet, stormed towards Mattheo. "Get her out of here now ," he growled, jabbing a finger in my direction. "Or I'll do it myself."

Before Mattheo could respond, the room fell silent. A Slytherin seventh-year, Adrian Pucey, stood on a nearby table, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Hold on there, Spinnet ," he boomed, his voice cutting through the tension. "This year, we're doing something a little different… a play!"

A cheer erupted from the Slytherins, many of them eager for a change from the usual prank wars. Mattheo , however, remained unconvinced. He narrowed his eyes at Adrian, suspicion etched on his face.

As the play began, I couldn't help but notice the similarities between my name and the name of the girl portrayed in the story. It didn't take long for me to realize that the play was about a jinxing girl, and it described in vivid detail everything I had confided in Mattheo about my family and my troubled past at the lake that night.

Panic clawed at my throat. I stole a glance at Mattheo, but his face was a mask. He reached out a hand towards me, but I flinched back instinctively .

The room fell silent, every eye glued to me and the unfolding drama.

Onstage, the actress portraying me continued, her voice dripping with drama. "…driven by ambition, she stole her brother's place, but a terrible curse followed. Wherever she goes, misfortune befalls those around her. She's the jinx girl, a harbinger of bad luck!"

A collective gasp rippled through the room. Whispers erupted like flames, spreading fear and suspicion. I felt them scorching my skin, their judgment a suffocating weight on my chest.

Suddenly, a new scene unfolded on stage. A group of actors, portraying Hogwarts students, stood center stage. "Here's the dare," boomed one, a mock sense of bravery in his voice. "The boy who approaches the jinx girl and brings her to the party… wins!"

Suddenly, a commotion arose from the back of the room. Enzo and Theodore Nott , their faces grim, pushed their way through the crowd towards the makeshift stage. "Stop this!" Enzo said, his voice laced with fury. "This is out of line, Pucey!"

The actors scrambled off the stage, bewildered and slightly scared. The common room dissolved into chaos. Accusatory whispers turned into heated arguments. Pity and fear flickered in averted gazes. I even overheard someone mutter, "Did she really kill her brother?"

The roar of the party faded behind me as I sprinted down the Slytherin common room's hidden corridor, tears stinging my eyes despite my desperate efforts to hold them back. Mattheo's voice calling after me, pleading, only fueled my desperate need to escape.

"Y/N, please!" he shouted, but I ignored him, my feet pounding a relentless rhythm against the cold stone floor.

"Y/N!" he called again, his voice closer this time. Panic surged through me, lending me fresh bursts of energy.

Just as I reached the portrait leading out to the dungeons, a strong hand clamped onto my arm. I spun around, ready to lash out, but it was him – Mattheo, his face etched with a desperate worry I'd never seen before.

He tried to reach for my hand, but I recoiled violently. "Don't you dare touch me!" I screamed, my voice raw with hurt and betrayal.

He flinched, his hand hovering awkwardly in mid-air. "Y/N, love, just hear me out," he pleaded.

"Love?" I spat the word back at him, incredulous. "Don't call me that." The weight of everything that had just happened crashed down on me. The staged play, the public humiliation, the sickening realization that it had all been a dare.

"It's not what it seems like," he stammered, trying to explain. "I—"

"You what?" I interrupted, my voice rising. "It was all a lie, wasn't it? "

"No, no, I swear," he said urgently. "Everything that happened between us was real. My feelings for you…" His voice trailed off, his eyes pleading for me to understand.

But the damage was done. The carefully constructed trust – it had all crumbled to dust in the face of this cruel betrayal.

"Don't," I choked out, tears finally spilling down my cheeks. "Don't lie to me anymore."

A sob escaped my lips, and despite the anger burning within me, a part of me ached for the connection I thought we shared.

"Just give me a chance to explain," he pleaded, but I shook my head, unable to bear the sight of him anymore.

The truth, however distorted, was clear. "Wouldn't you deny it was a dare?" I challenged him, a flicker of defiance sparking in my tear-filled eyes.

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. For the first time, I saw a flicker of genuine pain cross Mattheo's usually guarded features.

"No," he finally admitted, and I felt a wave of numbness wash over me.

As I turned to walk away, he continued, "It was at first, but I swear that from that night at the Broomsticks, everything was real. I even forgot about that stupid dare. Everything that happened between us was real, you know that."

I scoffed, wiping angrily at my tears. "I don't know anything anymore," I said.

"Foolish me. That's why you didn't want Charlie to talk to me that day, wasn't it? Because he was going to expose you?"

""No, Y/N, I just didn't want you to get hurt __“

"You what?" I cut him off again, my voice trembling with fury. "How generous of you," I said sarcastically. "But look, you win now, Riddle. Won't you go celebrate? It was their dare,"

"I don't care about anyone else but you," he said fiercely.

I stared at him, incredulous. "Then why does it feel like you care about everything else more than me right now?"

He took a hesitant step forward, but I didn't back away this time. I met his gaze head-on, my heart a tangled mess of emotions.

"I can't lose you," he whispered, his voice filled with desperation.

"You already have," I said, the words like shards of glass in my mouth. I wanted to hurt him, to make him feel even a fraction of the pain I was experiencing.

"I ___ i love you," he confessed, the words hanging heavy in the air.

Love. The very word felt like a mockery.

I looked him straight in the eye, my voice surprisingly calm despite the storm raging within me. "And I hate you, Mattheo Riddle," I said, each word laced with the bitter taste of betrayal.

With that final declaration, I turned away, leaving him standing alone in the darkened corridor, the portrait swinging shut behind me.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅

[amara-scott]

Imagine Mattheo and Theodore fighting over you constantly.

P.1

Reader x Mattheo Riddle / Reader x Theodore Nott

"The picknick was a good idea, I have to admit." I say, dropping another grape into my mouth, a full mouth turned into a smile. I sneak another one out of the basket Theo is carrying.

I glance over at Theo and he nods, grinning. He winks. "I know, Carina. I always have the best ideas, you should know that by now." I roll my eyes in amusement at his cocky statement.

As if on cue, I see a brown mop of curls rounding the corner, making me sigh. Great. Just great.

"Hey, what a surprise." Mattheo says, not seeming too happy as his eyes land on Theodore beside me. Mattheo shuffles something inside his jacket, flashing white, which I only catch a glimpse of. But I can't even question what it was before these two begin staring each other down.

An undeniably painful pause is the only thing holding me back from just turning around to run away. It's scaring me to even move a muscle. If these two don't sort out whatever is bugging them, I won't hesitate and avoid them both. I really did try to help them befriend each other once more. Their inner rivalry didn't get unnoticed by the rest of our friend group either. What has gotten into them these past few weeks?

"(Y/N), let's get going." Theo's free hand wraps around my wrist, not even glancing at me once while talking. He turns and tries to pull me with him, but not before Mattheo steps up, pushing Theo.

I stumble with him, still being in the grasp of Theo's strong hand. He let go and I take a step back.

"Excuse me?!" I get out before straightening up, rearranging my cloak. My glare hits Mattheo, but he is fixed on the boy in front of him as they now nearly graze noses. If I didn't know these two, I'd say one of them would be a Gryffindor. That would make sense at least. This is worse than Draco and Harry.

"Where do you think you're taking her, huh?" He grits out, and I can't say a word, too stunned I am being dragged into this ongoing fight now.

"Stop it, both of you!" I yell, but neither of them are backing down, making it really hard not to just ask a Professor to break them off. I glance around, only a few students hushing past, not daring to spare a look.

"We are going somewhere that is none of your concern, Riddle."

"Yeah? I don't think so, Nott."

"Why don't you fuck off and shag one of your whores, mind your own damn business!"

I had never seen either of them so worked up, which certainly was scary to look at. I try once more, "boys, come on, this is ridiculous." I gulp as they still don't look at me. My heart starts racing, and I try to find a way out that won't result in broken noses or wands at each other throats. What is going on with these two?!

"Come on, (Y/N)." Theo says again, making me debate what I should do. Pick a side? I don't want to be the reason one is more mad or disappointed by what I do.

"No." I mumble, feeling my eyes sting as I blink. I gulp once more, Theo's eyes finding my form a few feet behind Mattheo. His face relaxes as he looks at me.

"See? She doesn't want you, Nott." I can only make out the corner of Mattheo's lips as they curl up into a grin. Which doesn't help my situation.

"I'm not picking a side here, Matt, you are both acting extremely childish over – over, who knows what!" I turn and storm off, ignoring Matt and Theo yelling my name.

These idiots took it too far now. I won't speak a word – won't spare them another glance. Ugh, boys!

___

"-and he pushed Theo! Like a little kid! What is going on with these two?" I sat across from Pansy, piercing my fork into my piece of chocolate cake over and over again until it went mushy and the appetite left me. I sigh, my fork dropping onto the table, and I bury my face into my hands.

"You know them. They will get over it. Theo probably stole Matt's last fudge fly. They're boys, just like you said." She mumbles and keeps chewing on her dessert, eyes scanning the next page of her Witch Weekly magazine.

"I hope you're right." I mutter under my breath.

"Hey you two-" Draco joins us at the table, sitting down next to Pansy, Enzo settles beside me, I send him a brief smile.

"What's pestering you, (Y/N)? Or should I ask – who's pestering you?" He snickers and earns a stare from Pansy, making him shut up.

"Wait – do you know something, Draco?" I ask him and squint my eyes at him. He obviously does, as he stutters for a word, shaking his head. His cheeks slightly pink.

"Enzo, what is going on? Where are the others?" I turn to him, he sighs but shakes his head, sending me a small and sorry smile.

"I promised not to tell anyone. Especially not you, love." I grow irritated with the lot and push myself up, sending another glare at Draco, he would be easier to break. I take out my wand, holding it by my side and start boring holes into his head. He tries to avoid my deathly stare. But then he makes the mistake of connecting his eyes with mine.

"If you won't tell me right now where they are, I will personally make sure to have you grow a second nose every day, for the rest of the year – you will smell things you wish you didn't –"

"– come on, (Y/N), we promised –"

"– In the library, in the far back corner on the second level –" Draco squeaks, making Enzo glare at him in shock.

"We promised, Draco!"

"I don't care, I know she'll do it. I don't want a nose on my bum one morning! She knows how to get into our dorm." Draco snarls and glares at the table as I hurry off. Pansy only smirking and eating her second dessert in peace.

"Go get them!" She calls out without looking up and I wave her off, pushing past a few people on my way. My heart is racing and I don't know if I want to even meet these idiots. I promised myself to ignore them. Well that didn't take long for me to break.

I round the corner and walk into the library. My racing thoughts made this quiet place unbearable as I heard every damn thought of mine. But just as I take the last couple steps on the stairwell, I am met with hushed shouting.

"– how about you're both idiots? I really am hungry and if you two make me miss dinner, you won't sleep another night –" I hear Blaise taunting. I glance between a few books on the shelf, making out three heads. There they are. Blaise sits by the window, I could see his face clear as day. Theo sat sideways, eyes turned to the table in between them both. Mattheo on the other hand stands, pacing back and forth. He stops, just as my breath.

"Theo simply has to admit that he went behind my back. He took away the only thing that really mattered –"

"The only thing that mattered? The only thing that mattered to you was to simply get laid! Like always – just pick a different girl!" Theo stands up too now, Mattheo stepping up to his figure.

Blaise suddenly steps between them, hands on either chest and looks back and forth. "Hey, boys, you truly think we haven't had these lines already tonight? You're both ridiculous."

So this is about a girl? Is this about –

"Well, (Y/N) would never pick someone like you."

Shit.

"Like me? You're one to talk, Nott – stealing her from me, right after I told you I liked her. I trusted you, you are supposed to be my fucking best mate!" Their hushed voices are not so hushed anymore and I glance down to Miss Pince's desk. She narrows her eyes, scanning the upper level.

Blaise is struggling to hold Mattheo back now, Theo's lips curling into a smirk. I lean closer, my eyes still wide. How do they both like – me? Is this a stupid prank?

WHACK!

I was obviously leaning onto the shelf a bit too much as a book fell to the ground. Their heads turn to me and I could now clearly see all of them through the opening. I give them a weak smile and wave. "Hey –"

"(Y/N)?" Theo asks, stepping forward, around the shelf. I meet him half way, Mattheo’s eyes as hard as stone. My mouth feels dry while I try to think of what to say. I shrug and try to smile. My eyes land on Blaise who seems relieved, sighing as he walks up to me and wraps an arm around my shoulder, glancing between Theo and Matt.

“Maybe you’re the best to talk to them right now.” He pats my shoulder and turns to leave, I turn my head, wanting to tell him to stay, my heart racing. Blaise stops, glancing back at me. “Good luck.” He smirks and skips down the staircase. I really don’t want to turn back around so I take my time, gulping as I focus on both their shoe pairs instead of any eyes. Theo steps up slowly. “Carina, what did you hear?” My eyes shoot up at his question and Matt huffs, falling back into a cushioned arm chair.

“Obviously she heard it all. Otherwise she would be smacking our heads by now.” He mumbles at the end, his head held high as he’s glaring down at his knees, his hands squeezing the soft armrests. His sharp jaw clenching every now and then.

“I- I really-“ I take a deep breath shaking my head. “- don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Theo sends me a small encouraging smile. Matt’s head rolls back as he groans out.

“Oh please, stop that stupid emphasizing scheme!” Matt stands back up and joins us, glaring at Theo in disgust. Theo just rolls his eyes, turning to him.

“Just because you’re cold-hearted and only care about yourself doesn’t mean everyone has to-“

“-oh I only care about myself? You’re one to talk, fucking backstabber-“

“-Me? You are-“

“Hey!” I yell out, them both turning to me as they are once again almost choking each other. I ignore a few shushes thrown our way. Mattheo’s eyes soften as I look directly at him. His lips part and in his eyes I see that he’s struggling to hold back from saying what’s on his mind. “Matt-“ I get out, holding back my own emotional rollercoaster.

“I- I can’t-“ He stammers, rushing past me and running down the stairs, leaving. I walk up to the railing, my hands closing around the cold wood while I am looking after him.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” My head snaps around, Theo’s sad eyes glossy. He looks down, stepping closer and stops a foot from me. His eyes wandering back up, like he’s taking one last good look at me. Taking me in.

“It’s always been him.” He continues.

———

For part two choose your ending:

Mattheo

Theodore

Third ending?... (coming soon)

[waitforyrlove]

slytherin ! matt doesn’t let you break free from his game.

you were running late for Herbology, the kind of late that made your stomach twist with anxiety. As you rushed into the greenhouse, your hands frantically dug into your bag, searching for your herbology knife—the one essential tool for today’s class.

it wasn’t there.

panic set in as you rifled through every pocket, your fingers brushing over parchment, quills, and an array of useless things that weren’t what you needed. The knife, the one Professor Sprout insisted you always bring to class, was gone.

“Everything alright?” your friend asked from the workstation next to you, a curious look on her face.

“No,” you muttered, shaking your head, “I can’t find my knife.”

“Did you leave it in your dorm?”

“I don’t think so,” you said, though doubt was starting to creep in. You never misplaced that knife—it was practically second nature to check for it before every Herbology lesson.

your eyes darted across the room as you scanned for any sign of it, but something—or rather, someone—caught your attention instead.

Matt.

he was leaning casually against one of the greenhouse tables, his sleeves rolled up and his trademark smirk firmly in place. His green-and-silver tie was loose around his neck, and he was twirling something between his fingers.

it was your knife.

your stomach dropped, a mixture of anger and disbelief bubbling to the surface. You didn’t even need to look twice to confirm it—it was unmistakably yours. The silver blade glinted in the sunlight, and the worn leather grip bore the tiny scratch you’d accidentally made during your first Herbology class.

you stormed over to him, your heart pounding with irritation. “Is there a reason you’re holding my knife, Matt?”

he looked up at you, feigning innocence, though the glint in his eyes betrayed him. “Oh, this is yours?”

“Yes,” you snapped, crossing your arms, “Give it back.”

Matt tilted his head, as if considering your request, but the smirk on his face only widened,“You really should take better care of your things, sweetheart. Leaving them lying around for anyone to take?”

“I didn’t leave it lying around,” you hissed, your voice low to avoid drawing too much attention. “You stole it.”

“Stole is such a strong word,” he replied smoothly. “I’d say… borrowed.”

you narrowed your eyes at him, your patience wearing thin, “Whatever you want to call it, I need it back. Now.”

he chuckled, leaning in slightly so his voice was just for you, “What’s the rush? Herbology’s barely started.”

you clenched your fists, your frustration mounting, “Matt, I’m serious. Give it back.”

“Hmm,” he mused, leaning back against the table and twirling the knife once more, “I could give it back. Or…” He trailed off, his smirk taking on a mischievous edge.

“Or what?” you asked warily, already dreading his answer.

“Or you could do something for me first,” he said, his voice light, but his eyes sharp.

you groaned, already regretting every life decision that had led to this moment, “Why can’t you ever just do something without making it into a game?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he countered, his smirk never faltering.

you stared at him, your anger battling with the realization that you didn’t have a choice. You needed that knife. Herbology was one of your better subjects, and you couldn’t afford to fall behind—not because of him.

“Fine,” you said through gritted teeth. “What do you want?”

his smirk deepened, and he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “I need some information. From Ravenclaw.”

“Information? About what?”

he straightened up, his expression growing slightly more serious. “I need information. There’s someone in Ravenclaw—Connor Ashworth—who’s been running his mouth about me, talking shit, I want to know what he’s saying and who he’s saying it to.”

your jaw tightened at the word harmless, but you bit back your retort, “So you want me to spy on him?”

“Exactly,” he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world, “Find out what you can, and then your precious knife is all yours.”

you glared at him, hating how easily he manipulated the situation to his advantage, “And what happens if I refuse?”

he twirled the knife one last time before slipping it into his pocket, “Then I guess you’ll be doing today’s lesson without it.”

you stared at him, your mind racing. Every instinct told you not to give in, not to let him win. But the thought of standing in front of Professor Sprout empty-handed, trying to explain why you didn’t have your knife, made your stomach churn.

“Fine,” you said at last, your voice heavy with resignation, “I’ll do it.”

“Atta girl,” Matt said, his smirk widening as he straightened up, “I knew you’d see reason.”

you didn’t dignify him with a response. Instead, you turned on your heel and stormed back to your workstation, your mind already working on how you were going to pull this off.

the next day, you found yourself in the Ravenclaw common room under the pretense of borrowing a book from one of your friends. It was awkward at first, trying to subtly steer the conversation toward Connor without raising suspicion. But luckily, your friend was more than happy to gossip.

“Connor’s been acting so smug lately,” she said, flipping through the pages of her Charms textbook. “I overheard him talking to someone about Matt the other day. Something about a duel? Or maybe it was a bet. I’m not sure.”

you leaned in, feigning casual curiosity, “What was he saying?”

“Mostly that he got the better of Matt in some argument. Honestly, it sounded like typical Connor—blowing things out of proportion to make himself look good.”

you nodded, trying to piece together the information. Matt hadn’t mentioned anything about a duel, but it was clear that whatever Connor was spreading, it was enough to bother him.

for the rest of the afternoon, you lingered around the Ravenclaws, picking up snippets of conversation here and there. By the time you returned to your common room, you had a pretty good idea of what was going on.

that evening, you found Matt waiting for you in the corridor outside the library.

“Well?” he asked, his smirk firmly in place, “What did you find out?”

you crossed your arms, glaring at him, “Connor’s been bragging about a duel with you. He’s telling people he humiliated you.”

Matt’s eyes darkened, his smirk faltering for the first time, “Did he say anything else?”

“Just that he’s been talking to some Hufflepuffs about it. Apparently, he’s trying to make sure the whole school hears about it.”

Matt let out a low laugh, though there was no humor in it, “Interesting,”

“Now give me my knife,” you said, holding out your hand expectantly.

he glanced at you, his smirk returning, “Oh, I will. But I think you’ve earned a little reward for your hard work.”

“I don’t want a reward. I just want my knife.”

Matt pulled the blade from his pocket, holding it up between his fingers, “Fine,” he said, stepping closer. “But you have to admit… we make a pretty good team.”

you snatched the knife from his hand, your fingers brushing against his for the briefest moment, “This isn’t a team. This is blackmail.”

he chuckled, taking a step back. “Call it whatever you want, sweetheart. You’ll come around eventually.”

you glared at him, slipping the knife back into your satchel, “Don’t count on it.”

as you turned to leave, Matt’s voice followed you down the corridor.

“Careful out there,” he called, his tone light but laced with something darker, “You never know when you’ll need my help again.”

you didn’t dignify him with a response, but his words stuck with you as you made your way back to your common room.

no matter how much you tried to distance yourself, Matt always seemed to pull you back into his web. And as much as you hated to admit it, a small part of you wondered if you’d ever truly escape.

the days after your reluctant deal with Matt passed in a haze of frustration and unease. Every time you saw him, whether it was in the corridors or during meals in the Great Hall, he gave you that infuriating smirk. It wasn’t just teasing—it was a reminder. He knew he was in your head, and he wasn’t about to let you forget it.

you tried to go about your life as normal, but the weight of Matt’s games lingered like a shadow. And deep down, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t over.

it wasn’t over.

it was a Thursday evening, and you were in the library, trying to focus on your Potions essay. The soft scratch of quills and the faint whispers of other students filled the room, a soothing backdrop that helped you push aside your annoyance with Matt—at least for a little while.

but, as always, peace didn’t last long.

you heard the sound of footsteps approaching your table, and before you could even look up, a familiar voice broke through your concentration.

“Working hard, I see.”

you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath before turning to face him. Matt stood there, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, his green-and-silver tie hanging loose around his neck. He looked relaxed, but the glint in his eyes told you he was here with a purpose.

“What do you want?” you asked, your voice flat.

Matt slid into the chair across from you, leaning back like he owned the place. “Don’t look so thrilled to see me.”

“I’m not,” you said bluntly.

he chuckled, unbothered by your tone, “You wound me, sweetheart.”

you narrowed your eyes at him, trying to keep your temper in check, “If this is about Connor, I already did what you asked. I don’t owe you anything.”

“True,” Matt admitted, tilting his head slightly, “But I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have something else in mind.”

you groaned, dropping your quill onto the table, “Of course you do. What is it this time?”

Matt leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he studied you with a look that made your skin prickle, “Let’s call it… an opportunity.”

“An opportunity,” you repeated, skepticism dripping from your words.

he nodded, his smirk widening. “There’s a little… gathering happening in the Forbidden Forest this weekend. A few of us are planning to check out some magical creatures that are supposedly nesting there.”

you raised an eyebrow, “And what does this have to do with me?”

“Well,” Matt said, his tone light but calculated, “it just so happens that I could use someone with your… resourcefulness. You’ve proven you’re good at sneaking around, and you’re surprisingly quick on your feet. Plus, if anything goes wrong, it’s always good to have someone who can keep a cool head.”

you stared at him, disbelief etched across your face. “You want me to sneak into the Forbidden Forest with you?”

“Half of the fun, yeah.”

“Absolutely not,” you said, shaking your head, “I’m not risking detention—or worse—for one of your ridiculous fuckin’ schemes.”

Matt’s expression didn’t falter. If anything, he looked even more amused by your resistance, “Come on, where’s your sense of adventure? It’ll be fun. You, me, and a couple of others… what could possibly go wrong?”

“Everything,” you shot back, “Everything could go wrong. And I’m not getting dragged into another one of your messes.”

Matt leaned back in his chair, his smirk softening into something more genuine, “You know, for someone who claims to hate me, you spend an awful lot of time thinking about me.”

You froze, heat rushing to your face, “I do not—”

“You do,” he interrupted smoothly, his eyes gleaming with mischief, “And that’s okay, sweetheart. I’m flattered, really.”

you opened your mouth to retort, but no words came out. He always had a way of throwing you off balance, and it drove you insane

“Think about it,” he said, rising to his feet, “We leave Saturday night. Meet me by the edge of the forest if you change your mind.”

“And if I don’t?” you called after him, your frustration bubbling over

Matt glanced back at you, his smirk firmly in place, “You will.”

and with that, he was gone, leaving you fuming at the table

the Saturday night came faster than you’d expected, and despite every logical argument you’d made to yourself, you found yourself standing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, your heart pounding in your chest.

Matt was already there, leaning casually against a tree with an air of nonchalance that made you want to strangle him.

“I knew you’d come,” he said, his smirk lighting up the dim surroundings.

“Don’t make me regret it,” you muttered, crossing your arms.

“Oh, you will,” he replied, his tone teasing, “But it’ll be worth it.”

as he led you into the dark, twisting trees, you couldn’t help but wonder how you’d gotten yourself into this mess—again. But one thing was certain: when it came to him, there was no such thing as simple.

the night air was cool, the thick canopy of trees above blocking most of the moonlight as you followed Matt deeper into the Forbidden Forest. Every snap of a twig underfoot felt louder than it should, the silence pressing in around you, heightening your awareness of everything—especially of Matt, walking just ahead, his movements confident and sure.

“So,” you broke the silence, trying to steady your nerves, “What exactly are we doing here? You haven’t exactly given me details.”

Matt glanced over his shoulder, his smirk still in place, “Patience, sweetheart. You’ll find out soon enough.” His tone was teasing, but there was a hard edge underneath it, something that told you he wasn’t entirely joking.

you rolled your eyes but didn’t press him further. The last thing you wanted was to get caught up in one of his games again, but part of you—damn it, part of you—was already intrigued. That damn curiosity of yours had a nasty habit of getting the better of you when it came to Matt.

he led you through the dense forest, your footsteps now muffled by the thick undergrowth beneath. The deeper you went, the more the sounds of the castle faded away, leaving only the occasional rustling of leaves and the faint hoots of owls overhead. Your senses were on high alert, the air around you thick with an eerie tension. You could feel it creeping up your spine.

finally, after what seemed like forever, Matt stopped in front of a small clearing. A large, ancient oak tree loomed at the center, its branches twisted and gnarled like something out of a nightmare. The atmosphere was heavy, and for a moment, you almost regretted following him.

“Alright,” Matt said, turning to face you, “Here’s the deal. I want you to stay here for a bit, keep an eye out. I’m going to check the area around the tree for any… potential problems. If anyone shows up, you’ll need to be the lookout.”

“You brought me out here just to… stand guard? In the middle of the night?”

Matt’s smirk deepened, though there was something darker behind it now, “You’re good at sneaking around, aren’t you? You’ve proven that before. This isn’t a job for amateurs.”

you couldn’t help but scowl at the implied insult, though you had to admit, he had a point. You had been sneaky, both in the library and when you’d stolen the book from his dorm. But you weren’t about to let him get under your skin.

“So,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest, “you’re just going to leave me here while you do whatever shady thing you’re planning?”

“Not exactly,” He stepped closer, his voice lowering, “While I’m out there, you’re going to make sure no one follows us. You’ll be the eyes on the ground, and when I’m done, we can go back to the castle without anyone suspecting a thing.” He paused for a moment, his gaze fixed on yours, “And in return, I’ll consider our… little arrangement settled.”

“I’ve already done more than enough for you,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Oh, I know,” Matt replied, his lips curling into a playful grin, “But you’ve got something I want, sweetheart. And you’ll do this for me. Because you don’t want to know what happens if you don’t.”

his words sent a cold shiver down your spine. You hated that you felt the weight of them. Hated that you couldn’t just walk away from this. But despite your protests, you nodded. What else could you do?

“Fine,” you muttered, “I’ll stay here. But don’t expect me to stick around if this goes sideways.”

“Gooood girl.”

and then he disappeared into the darkness, his footsteps light but purposeful as he vanished from your view.

the clearing fell silent once again, and you were left standing alone in the cold night air, your mind racing. What the hell was Matt up to this time? What kind of trouble was he getting himself—and you—into.

you strained your ears, hoping to hear something, anything that would clue you in. But all you could hear was the rustling of leaves and the distant calls of nocturnal creatures. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, that you were missing a piece of the puzzle.

minutes dragged into what felt like hours. You shifted your weight from foot to foot, trying to stay alert. The longer you stood there, the more uncomfortable you became. Your stomach twisted, and your thoughts raced, replaying every interaction with Matt up until this point. His games. His smugness. That damn pull he seemed to have over you.

you rubbed your arms to ward off the chill, your eyes scanning the shadows for any movement. Nothing. Still nothing. Was this some kind of twisted test? Or was he really just out here checking for threats?

the sound of footsteps broke your focus.

you snapped your head toward the noise, your heart slamming against your ribs. A figure emerged from the darkness, cloaked in shadow, moving toward you with deliberate steps.

you held your breath. Was it Matt? Or someone else? A cold sweat trickled down your spine as you instinctively took a step back, the forest suddenly feeling like it was closing in around you.

“Matt?” you called out softly, not sure if you wanted the answer.

the figure froze. Then, you heard the unmistakable voice of Matt, low and smooth in the dark, “You should relax a little. You’re doing fine.”

you exhaled, almost too relieved to speak, “What took you so long?”

“Just making sure the area is clear,” he replied, stepping into the clearing. He seemed to have been gone longer than expected, and there was something different about his energy now. His movements were a little more guarded, his smirk a little more controlled.

“You didn’t run into anyone, did you?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant, but your nerves were getting the better of you.

Matt studied you for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. “No,” he said slowly, “I didn’t. But I’m starting to wonder if I should’ve brought someone else. You look a little too tense for my liking.”

you shot him a glare, irritated by his usual arrogance, “I’m not some pawn in your little games, Matt.”

his lips curved into a smile, though it was less playful now and more dangerous. “Of course not,” he said, stepping closer, “You’re much more than that. You’re a challenge.”

the air between you felt thick, charged with a tension that made it hard to breathe. He took a step closer, his presence closing the space between you until you could feel the heat radiating from his body. You didn’t move, didn’t step back, despite every instinct telling you to run. There was something magnetic about him, something that pulled you in despite everything you knew about him.

you swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest as he leaned in, just a little, his breath warm against your skin. “You don’t realize it yet,” he murmured, his voice low, almost a whisper, “but you’re already a part of my game, sweetheart. And you’re playing it just the way I want.”

his words sent a shiver down your spine, your lips parting slightly in surprise. You tried to ignore the way your body seemed to betray you, heat creeping up your neck, a flutter of something unfamiliar settling deep in your stomach. You didn’t want to be pulled in. You didn’t want to care. But his presence was intoxicating, his proximity making it harder to think, harder to breathe.

your eyes locked with his, and for a moment, you both just stood there, neither of you speaking. His gaze flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes, and something shifted in the air between you, a promise lingering in the space.

you could feel your pulse racing, could feel the dangerous pull between you, the way he was slowly drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You should move away, you should pull back, but the words were stuck in your throat, and your body felt frozen in place.

Matt was close enough now that you could feel his body heat against yours, his every breath seeming to sync with yours. His eyes darkened as he tilted his head slightly, his lips barely an inch from yours, his warm breath mingling with yours.

“Don’t tell me you’re not tempted,” he murmured, his voice like silk, dark and enticing, “You feel it too. I know you do.”

you felt it—the electric charge in the air, the undeniable pull. It was maddening, how easily he could make you forget your own thoughts, your own boundaries. His lips were so close. If you just leaned in a little more…

you didn’t know how long you stood there, your heart racing, your breath shallow, but the moment felt like it stretched on forever, thick with uncertainty and temptation. You could feel the weight of the decision, the gravity of what was happening, pulling you down into it.

then, just as you thought you might give in, he pulled back, his smirk returning, though this time it held something more, something predatory.

“I thought you had more sense than that,” he said, his voice low and mocking, as though he’d just tested your limits and found them wanting.

you didn’t know if you wanted to punch him or kiss him, and do whatever intrusive thought you had in your mind. Instead, you took a step back, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you struggled to regain control of your emotions.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” you said, your voice steadier than you felt.

he only chuckled darkly, his eyes never leaving you, “I always do.”

with that, he turned and began walking back toward the path leading out of the forest, leaving you standing there, your heart still racing, your mind a blur of confusion and desire.

© waitforyrlove. all rights deserved. do not copy my works. or modify my work.

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˙ . ꒷ 🪽 notes from author ˙— 3 days in a row slytherin ! matt??? who’s this

[night-daily]

Third time's a charm | Peter Maximoff x fem! reader

summary: Two times where Peter tries to kiss you and one time when it finally happens.

warnings: not proof read, im sorry:(

a/n: i think i need a peter in my life

The first time, you and Peter were in the living room of Xavier's school, watching a movie. It was your regular movie night, you would sit together on the couch and eat popcorn and candy's that Peter stole it grabbed for you, “I…I wasn’t sure if you’d like this, so I just took all the flavours they had there” that was he said to you when it was your first movie night, he was pretty nervous because you asked him, of all the people in the mansion, you wanted to spend your free time with him. So that night he arrived with two bags full of candy's and since then it became a tradition.

The movie was playing on the tv in front of you but your focus wasn't in the movie, was on the guy sitting next to you. It wasn't a secret for anyone in the mansion that you were in love with Peter, except for him, of course. Sometimes it was hard for your friends to watch how hard you tried to flirt with him but he was so oblivious to your moves.

At night the mansion was cooler and you're already regretting you didn't bring your sweater with you cause now you're shaking like a chihuahua and you're pretty sure Peter had noticed.

Suddenly you felt a rush of air around you, did someone leave a window open?

But when you're about to stand up and check the windows, you've a blanket on you and Peter is looking at you with a frown on his face. “Next time tell me when you're cold 'cause I'm not the professor to read your mind” You feel your cheeks hot, embarrassed, “I just don't want you to get sick...” He mumbles, avoiding your eyes and missing the way your heart is beating faster at his words.

And feeling bold, you put your legs on top of his, this was very normal between you so he didn't flinch, but he did it when he felt your head on his shoulder, it felt... intimate. Your hair was brushing his neck and he wanted so bad to run his fingers through it.

But he was a little uncomfortable in this position, his arms were glued to his body, feeling the half of your body on one of his arms, it wasn't heavy but it wasn't comfortable either. So the only solution he came with, was to put his arm around you, resting it on your waist, sending chills on your spine.

Now it was comfortable, it was perfect. The way your bodies fitted so well made him think, why the hell we didn't this before?

“Peter” The way his name comes out of your mouth, it makes him go crazy, it's a feeling he'll never get tired of. Only if you knew you've him wrapped around your finger, you'll be together by now.

“Hmm?” He can't find his voice due your presence. You lifted your head a little to match his eyes. You're very close, so close that if he leans down his head like he's doing right now and if you stretch your neck like your doing now your lips would finally connect, he's getting closer and you can't wait any longer, you can feel it in the air, he want's this too, he wants you and—

“What are we watching?” Scott fucking Summers jumps from behind the couch sitting between you and Peter.

You sighs defeated, this was your karma for laughing at the kid who tripped in the fountain at the mall earlier?

“We're gonna watch the tape of your death” Scott frowned confused, “I've never heard of that movie before” The bowl of popcorn was stole it from your hands and he was ignoring Peter's angry glare.

“You're about to presence it” Scott dropped the bowl and ran off the stairs, running away from Peter who was chasing him without using his powers, the two of them running like childs, so yeah, this was your karma after all.

The second time

You're in Peter's room waiting for him, reading one of the comics he had lent you when you heard the door opens, finally, you thought.

“Hey you waited too much for me?” And there he was, his sweet smile that always seemed reserved just for you. Sweating was covering his face and a few scratches here and there. He was in a short mission and by the look in his face it wasn't that easy but nothing he couldn't handle. Peter had told you before “if i don't get some bruises, i'm a real hero?” of course you prefer it when he didn't hurted himself but you've had already that discussion with him about what makes you a hero and what doesn't but neither of you backed down so it was a tie, for now.

“I would wait for you all my life” It was cheesy but it was also true.

Making him blush wasn't easy but when it happens oh, you enjoyed the view. Before you can make fun of him, he speaks, “I'm gonna take a quick shower and then we can go to play games so get ready 'cause i'm gonna kick your ass” He stepped into the bathroom while you're standing outside so he can hear you.

You chuckled “Just like the last time when we played Ms pac-man and i broke your record? That's how you kick asses? No wonder why you suck at self defense”

“HEY” Even if you didn't seen him you're sure he was smiling just like you.

You waited a few minutes and he's done. He walks out of the bathroom with his new clothes on, the towel around his neck and a very wet hair.

“Why you never dry your hair?” And before he had the chance to respond, you took the towel around his neck, your arms stretching to his hair since he was a few centimeters taller than you.

Your moves were gently, soft and relaxing, no one has take care of him like you do. All of you were close to him, your body, your face, your lips.

“Stop moving Peter” If it wasn't for your warning, he wouldn't notice he has leaned into your arms thanks to the comfort you offer him, that's the effect you have on him and you don't seem to realize it.

He was staring at you, intensely, like memorizing every part of your face and you could feel it, his gaze was like fire and you could feel the burn on your cheeks. “So uhmm... can i wear one of your jackets? I could wear one of mines but yours are cozier” His eyes widened. His thoughts immediately picturing you with his jacket, and his heart jumps excitedly, a shy smile crossing his face.

But imagining you with his clothes, how they would look bigger in you, how his clothes would smell like you and how everybody would know you are his, fuck, fuck, fuck, why his pants suddenly feel tighter?

“Pete? Are you okay?” Your voice brings him back, realizing you're still holding the towel around his head, fuck fuck fuck, you're gonna find out about... his situation.

Thinking fast he took the towel from your hands and throw it at your face, not giving you a chance to ask him what's going on, he ran out of the mansion like his life depends on it.

“Isn't enough that she owns my heart but now she owns my.. head too?”

And when it finally happens

The next day after Peter throw you the towel, which wasn't very nice of him but it wasn't new coming from him, you had the strange feeling he was ignoring you.

Every time you walked at the same room as him, he would say some lame excuse and would be off before you can even blink. Also, he wasn't answering your calls or texts.

So you made your mission to trap Peter and asked him why the hell he was ignoring you.

“Oh no Scott, you ruined Peter's comic” Faking Jean voice wasn't so hard. Peter didn't come to the kitchen as you expected, so you tried one more time, “Oh my god, it was a limited edition—”

“You better run for your—” As soon as you heard his voice, you closed the door, using your body as a wall so he would need to face you to walk off.

“Gotcha”

Both of you knew he could easily ran and you wouldn't notice, but you got the feeling he wouldn't do it, again.

Peter's face was pale and surprised for falling so easily at your trap.

“Care to explain why you've been ignoring me?” He stayed silent and still, thinking in a way to get out.

“Did i say or did something to bother you?” Peter wasn't listening you, you sighed, “If you don't want me in your life anymore, at least have to guts to say it to my face” Your voice cracked, even when you tried to act though.

At the mention of you not being in his life, he finally looked at you, your fragile figure breaking his heart, he couldn't bare the thought of a life without you, what if you don't feel the same?

but what if she does?

“Goodbye, Peter” His head snapped. It was or never.

“I like you! That's why I've been acting weird, cause i don't wanna lose you” Your eyes widened, what did he say? “I know you might not feel the same but i can't hide it anymore” Shit, did he say he likes you? “B-But I understand if you don't want be friends after this and—”

Now you surprised him with how quickly you were standing in front of him. Grabbing him by his jacket, you pulled him close to you. “I can't believe you don't know i like your stupid, oblivious ass” You tiptoe to finally feel his lips against yours, “Are we about to kiss right now?” You groaned but a smile made his way on your face, “You're not serious” And before he can say something to ruin the moment, you cut him off with a kiss. A kiss full of sincere love, full of hope for a future where you are together and hopefully, he can feel how much you like him.

Unfortunately, none of you have some kind of breath power, so you have to break the kiss.

“So does this mean you feel the same or...?” “Oh my god”

[arminsumi]

Hii can we pls get an extremely smitten in love like love sick gojo pls?????

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤

A/N: ABSOLUTELY!! 🥰

Wc ≈ 1.7k

Pairing: GOJO Satoru x f.reader

Summary: the annoying popular boy at college has his heart set on you 😌💕

Warnings; it's a little cheesy

There’s a white-haired boy that always, always sits next to you in every single class. He’s got the looks that kill, one-of-a-kind features, almost too pretty to be on earth; the kind of boy that makes even teachers stutter in the middle of their lecture simply because of his presence.

So many girls fawn over him, like he’s the rockstar of your college with a bunch of groupies following wherever he goes.

And that ticks off one reason you don’t like Gojo Satoru.

The other reasons? To narrow it down; he’s an arrogant cocky flirty bastard who will not stop asking you out to parties and dates. Persistent and determined to make you crack and finally fall for him. Relentless and fast in his pursuit of your heart no matter how far it runs – he’s gonna getcha, he knows it, it’s just a matter of time.

He’s never felt this deeply or intensely. It makes his head spin. When you walk in the room, when you speak, when he sees your name on an attendee list… it has him feeling tingly and lightheaded. Even getting a text from you makes him jump; he replies in two seconds and pouts when you leave him on read. He even complains to his mom and Suguru about you.

This boy is the walking symptoms of lovesick.

But he’s in heavy denial about it. No, no – he’s not obsessed, you’re obsessed. He’s not crushing on you; you’re crushing on him. He’s not chasing you; you’re chasing him. He doesn’t wanna kiss you, you wanna kiss him.

“You have such a fat crush on me.” He smirks, talking unashamedly loudly so everyone who’s passing down the columned corridor can hear.

You sigh. “No I don't, Gojo.”

“It’s Satoru to you,” he winks, “And anyways, you’re not busy this afternoon, yeah?”

“Actually I am ��� ”

“Great! Let’s go out.”

Your whole face spells how frustrated you are.

“Oh my god…” you sigh, getting up for your next class which was in two minutes – Gojo took up all your time. Your friends had long slipped away after he gave them a glare, snickering as they did because they thought the whole thing between you and him was hilarious.

His long legs strode next to you down the corridor.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To class.” you replied.

“Let me walk you there.” he offered eagerly.

“Thanks, but there’s really no need.” you replied.

He looked at you like a sad puppy, so you gave in. “Oh my god, fine then.”

“Ask me nicely.”

“What!” you looked at him incredulously, “You’re the one who – oh my god never mind. Walk me to class, Gojo.”

He grinned in satisfaction. You almost wanted to smack him.

“It’s Satoru.” He corrected.

“I’m not calling you that. We’re not friends.” You said.

“Gosh, you’re breaking my heart!” he jokes, but deep down he was a little cut by that. You could tell by how he said no more smart remarks. He was silent.

You slid into your seat, watching your professor prepare the sliding whiteboards with awful scribbles of calculus. Gojo slid right next to you, settling his smart ass down a little closer than last time. He was aching to get closer to you in any way he could.

“I need a pen.” He whispered under his breath to you as soon as the lecture began.

“Seriously? Again? Where do you keep putting the ones I give you, up your ass?”

He smirked at you. Pretty blue eyes peaked over the rims of his sunglasses. You weren’t the only one to notice that he had them on indoors; the professor glanced over and immediately reprimanded him.

“Gojo, glasses off indoors, please. Don’t make me keep reminding you.” She said.

Gojo grumbled and reluctantly took them off, setting them down on the desk. You’d already began hastily scribbling notes, but all Gojo managed to do for the first ten or fifteen minutes of the lecture was drum his borrowed pen on his empty spiralbound notebook. He stole thirsted glances of you out of the corner of his eyes.

At some point his attention solely focused on you.

He observed you intently; the way you held your pen, the pace at which you write, your handwriting, how you leaned over just enough for your breasts to lightly squish against the desk.

“Hey.” He whispered to you.

You looked at him bemusedly. Ah, here he goes again. Fifteen minutes in and he has something to say to you.

“Can I copy your notes?” he asked.

“Seriously?” you whisper-shouted. The professor was so deep into her lecture about calculus that she didn’t notice Gojo starting to chat you up.

Asking to copy your notes was just his entry into flirting; what followed next was “I like your handwriting” and “so about that date…” and “there’s a party at my place this weekend…” and “wanna ditch this class together?”

“Satoru,” you said, “shut up, please.”

He shut up, not because you asked him to – he would have gone on and on despite your wishes, but you called his name. That took him aback so much so that he actually had to recompose himself and sit back, take in a breath, think for a bit. The way you pronounced his name had him in pieces.

Now came the part of the lecture where Satoru started making you laugh. You tried so hard not to, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction – but he had a good humour, you couldn’t deny a few breathy laughs here or there.

His unwavering stare was so distracting. That and the fact he kicked his feet up on the desk. He took them down when the professor turned around, and then resumed his lazy position as soon as she turned back to the whiteboard.

“Satoru,” you began, “How is it that you never take notes and still pass?”

He shrugged. “I’m a prodigy. You’re sitting next to a real genius.”

You regretted asking.

He felt bad, so he gave you a small honest answer. “I cram at night.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Would be nice to have a study buddy…” he suggested.

“No.”

“But wouldn’t it be nice? Let’s study in the library later.”

“No – ”

“Okay! I’ll meet ya there!” he smiled decisively, choosing to ignore your decline.

The class concluded, and Gojo lingered by your desk waiting for you to pack up. Some lovestruck girls always approached him at that point, and he held small talk with them. He absolutely let their compliments fuel his ego.

You tried to take advantage of the fact he was distracted by them so you could slip out of the lecture theatre unnoticed. But he had good eyes.

“Oh, gotta go. Bye.” He said hastily, eyes locked on you like you were his target. He practically tumbled down the desk levels to get to you.

Just as you disappeared beyond the door, he caught up with you, lanky body colliding with yours on ‘accident’. You thought it was deliberate, but it really was an accident – he was so clumsy around you. He threw you a lopsided, apologetic smile.

That familiar sad puppy expression developed on his features as you walked quickly down the corridor and ignored him. Inside, you were bitter about how he bathed in those girl’s attention.

He had his hands behind his back. A peculiar thing – he usually walked like he owned the place with his hands swinging like a model on a runway. You stopped abruptly in your tracks when you noticed his deflated behavior. He bumped into you again.

“Hey…”

“Sorry.” He muttered apologetically.

“… wanna get lunch together, after studying?” you offered, feeling bad for how you ignored him the whole walk to the library.

His eyes lit up. “Yeah! Yeah… uh, yes.” He almost choked. “Absolutely.”

After that, he had a pep in his step as he followed you into the library.

Studying with him was super unproductive. He kept teasing your face, pinching your cheeks and ears to get your attention and then when he had it, he started rambling about something.

Then he pulled giggles out of you. He did such goofy, stupid things.

“Look.” He said, so you looked away from your textbook.

You shook your head.

He had balanced a book on his head and bit his borrowed pen between his pearly whites.

“Don’t put my pen in your mouth! I don’t want your germs.” You said.

He grinned.

You had to admit… that was an attractive smile. The way his Addam’s apple subtly shifted. The way his eyes lit up. The way his eyes creased.

He took the book off his head and the pen out of his mouth.

“You don’t want my germs?” he pouted jokingly.

“No, no way.”

“How are we ever gonna kiss?”

“E – excuse m – what? Huh?”

Gojo giggled. He threw that in just to see your reaction.

“You sooo wanna kiss me.” He teased.

“Uh… I don’t…” you swallowed.

“You’re such a bad liar.” He said, his tone shifting into a genuinely serious one.

“I’m not lying. I’d never kiss you.” You spoke.

“Yeah?”

He brought his face closer to you. So close you could see the subtle freckles on his pale cheeks.

“What would you do if I kissed you?” Gojo asked, peering at your soul with his eyes.

You stuttered, too stunned to response. What would you do? It was a genuine question, you could tell by the tone of his voice and look in his eyes. He really wanted to know.

“I don’t know…” you responded.

“Have you thought about it at all?” he asked. A slight nervousness shook his vocals. There was the smallest of voice cracks as he said ‘thought’.

Should you have been honest? You were looking into his eyes contemplatively. Was he trying to trick you? Was he gonna get an answer out of your lips and then humiliate you with it?

You just bit the bullet and said it.

“Yeah, I guess I have.”

His eyes searched for any hints that you were kidding. You got his heart thumping, his blood rushing around so hard he felt dizzy.

It looked like he wanted to kiss you really badly, but your phone went off and ruined the moment completely. The lovey air dissolved between you and him and he wished it hadn't.

While you hastily took your phone call, you noticed out of the corner of your eyes that Gojo had a boyish blush on his face.

Reblogs n' comments help a lot!! 💗😙

Visit my library ?

[iris-qt]

𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚊𝚌

"Suddenly seeing you in a different light than before..."

ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴏ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

✧ ʙɢ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ: ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ!

✧ ᴘᴛ. 2 ᴛᴏ ᴍɪʀʀᴏʀʙᴀʟʟ ᴍᴏᴏɴ | 1.8ᴋ

✧ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴏ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀᴅᴀᴍᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɢɪʀʟ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ (ʏᴏᴜ). ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ʜᴇ'ᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ʙᴇꜱᴛ: ᴛʀɪᴄᴋᴇʀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇꜰᴛ, ᴛᴏ ᴡɪɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏᴠᴇʀ…

God, she’s so perfect

Mattheo Riddle seemed transfixed, practically hypnotized, by the sight of your quill brushing against your lips. The soft plumes of the feather ghosting over them as you listened intently to the Defense Against the Arts professor.

That was his favorite quill.

Although you’d never believe it if he told you. You’d never believe it was him who planted that quill in your messenger bag.

Probably because he was the one who stole your bag in the first place. Perhaps it was sick and twisted, but there was something about your flushed, angry face, brows furrowed and fists balled together, while you yelled at him in front of the entire Slytherin quidditch team that turned him on. You always knew that if something went wrong in your life, it was most definitely the doing of the “hellish toad” named Mattheo Riddle.

But he couldn’t help it.

He had noticed you’d lost your quill and had to write with a muggle contraption called a pencil. 

Barbaric.

So he took matters into his own hands.

Your bag was just lying there next to you on the stone bench while you talked animatedly with your friends. It was practically beckoning to him.

“You know they have a word for that,” you’d tell him months later, looking up with a smirk, sipping your butterbeer in the quaint restaurant Mattheo had taken you to. He had finally convinced you to go on a date with him, and he wanted to make sure it was perfect.

So he rented the whole restaurant out for the night.

Just him, you, a server, and a 5 star chef in the dimly lit building.

He leans forward, candlelight dancing in his ebony eyes.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” you grin. 

“And what is it, my little dictionary?”

“Kleptomania,” you grin. “It’s where someone can’t resist the urge to steal stuff, even if they don’t need it.”

“Oh, well that’s not me.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No.”

“Why?”

Mattheo grins at you, face flickering in the romantic candlelight as he reaches out to place his rough hand on your own.

“Because I don’t steal invaluable things.”

“I’d call my bag an invaluable steal.”

“Sure, but I stole your heart. And that’s definitely something I value,” he grins, proud of himself as you roll your eyes laughing.

“You’re cheesier than this alfredo pasta, Riddle.”

“Am I as tasty as it is too?” he leans over, a cheeky smirk donning his face. One that would’ve boiled your blood just a few short weeks ago, but ever since that night at the Yule Ball, Mattheo Riddle had weaseled his way into your “cold little heart” as he teasingly called it. 

It wasn’t easy.

Mattheo Riddle had a lot of sucking up to do before you finally took mercy on him and agreed to this date. The truth is, he had already won your heart from that night of the Yule Ball. It was just far too enjoyable for you to witness his groveling.

At first he had kept it pretty subtle.

You had arrived back to your dorm after a rough quidditch practice, face streaked with dirt and sweat, when you noticed a lump under your duvet. You pull it aside to reveal the new book in your favorite romance series with a little note and a bag of your favorite wizarding candy.

Your eyes widen as you unfold a little note, a small smile dawning on your face.

You already knew who it was from, but the messy, chicken-scratch handwriting just proved your suspicions. 

Riddle.

I snuck out to Hogsmeade with the boys last night. Found these and thought of you. 

-- Matty

You snort as you read that he signed the note with the atrocious nickname you had used to belittle and demean him.

“Aw, poor Matty forgot his homework.”

“Try to keep up, Matty!”

As time went by, Mattheo progressively grew more desperate. You didn’t seem very ecstatic to agree on that date that he so desperately wanted. What could he possibly do to win your favor? What could he offer you that would make you break? He’d gotten you your favorite book, favorite candy, favorite cassettes that he drew little sharpie hearts all over. He had gotten you concert tickets to your favorite band. A little picnic for you and your friends, for he knew how much you cherished them.

What more could he give?

Or…wait…

What more could he take?

That set off a week’s worth of shenanigans that Mattheo was having way too much fun putting together.

Project 1: Steal your favorite book.

And steal it he does, right as you go to use the bathroom. He timed it perfectly: you always go during History of Magic, not like you’d be missing anything important.

He leans over expertly, and in expertly he thinks he twists a muscle in his shoulder blade, but, nonetheless, he manages to pluck the worn down copy of your favorite book from your messenger bag.

When Mattheo’s in private, he thumbs through the book, subconsciously imagining you doing the same with your soft hands. Your messy ink annotations are slightly smudged against the aging paper, and as he reads them to himself, he can’t help but imagine them in your beautiful voice…

You’d been attempting to convince him to read this book, thinking the main male character reminded you of Mattheo. You wanted to see if he agreed.

And agree he did as he spent that entire evening reading the book enveloped in the story. Perhaps it wasn’t even the story that kept him hooked. Perhaps it was how he imagined your reaction to certain scenes. The scrunch of a nose. The furrow of an eyebrow. Perhaps it was how he couldn’t wait to see your face as he added some annotations of his own next to yours. Reacting to your reactions. Perhaps you’d finally agree to go out with him, once his scratchy handwriting weasels itself into your favorite work of literature.

Or perhaps you’d just be annoyed at his theft and vandalism.

But that was the worst case scenario, for when you went to your dorm room that night, your book was there, propped up against the door. And when you saw that familiar handwriting, you felt your heart melt as quickly as a wax candle…

“I hope you know you ruined my aesthetic annotations,” you roll your eyes spooning some tiramisu, your snarky words coming out muffled by the dessert, causing the snark to diminish as Mattheo bites back a fond smile.

“Oh please, I added the much needed chaos.”

“Mm I don’t think chaos is ever a need, Riddle.”

“Well you always tell me I’m chaotic, right?”

“Right?”

“And you need me, right?”

You roll your eyes as you see where he’s going.

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Don’t worry, princess,” Mattheo gently dips his finger in the mascarpone cream and smears it onto your rosy nose with a cocky grin. “Your blush is proof enough.”

It took more than the annotated book to win your favor, however. You made Mattheo work for it, and he was making the most of every second. The thing is, Riddle loved to do things for you. His love language is acts of service after all. Taking time out of his busy schedule of planned pranks and mischief was only worth it for one person. You.

Growing up in a rich household, Mattheo Riddle had taken on many pretentious, cultured hobbies. One was his immense talent in ballroom dancing as you had the privilege to witness firsthand after the Yule Ball. Another is his weird proficiency in embroidery. Needlework. 

He’s aware it isn’t exactly the most flattering hobby, but he had overheard you talking about wanting to learn it to embroider those uncomfortable-looking muggle trousers of yours…jeans? Yes, jeans. 

No one knew about Riddle’s affinity for needlework and he intended to keep it that way.

But what better way to show you he’s real about you than revealing this talent of his?

So, his winning plan came together by accident when your scarf was blowing along the snowy pathway to Hogsmeade. It nearly flew into his face, which it might as well have, because when he noticed it was yours, he brought it to his face to inhale your addictive scent.

Was he creepy for that?

Probably.

Did he care?

Nope.

What’re the odds your lost scarf blows right into his welcoming arms rather than the various other Hogwarts students milling about?

To a delusional Mattheo Riddle, it was a sign from the universe.

Perhaps he should’ve paid more attention in Divination.

He doesn’t bother to return it to you when he runs across you by a cozy bookstore. Instead, he throws a snowball at you, hitting you square in the face, laughing at your face red from the cold and rage. 

Hey, he’s still Mattheo Riddle.

But he’s a very down bad Mattheo Riddle as he wordlessly wraps his own scarf around your neck, walking off before you could utter a syllable.

After the trip, he busts out his embroidery set, kept buried in a box of old cassettes under his bed. Taking your soft scarf in his hands, he embroiders a moon onto the hem of your scarf, a testimony to the dance you both had shared under the moon at the Yule Ball. 

He leaves the scarf folded on your usual seat in the library, just as you walk in. 

Nothing can compare to the look of pure joy and flustered giddiness that overcomes your complexion at the sight of the embroidery. 

“Guess we owe it all to that gust of wind that blew my scarf over to you,” you grin as you walk out of the restaurant into the chilly night air. Mattheo’s adoring gaze and strong hand are enough to keep you warm as the snowflakes begin to cover you both up.

“Oh, please, y/n. You liked me way before the embroidery.”

“No, Riddle, it was the constant theft and vandalism that made me fall for you,” you tease as you both begin the walk back to Hogwarts on this cold Saturday night.

“Hey, it's my way of showing my affection. Just like yours is rude insults,” he shoots back, nudging your shoulder gently.

“I guess we both need some help, don’t we?” you bite back a laugh squeezing his mittened hand with your own.

“Yeah…but first..” and Mattheo leans in to steal his final thing from you…

Your breath.

NO not in the killing way…

He takes your breath away as he leans in for a soft kiss, numb lips thawing as they meet.

It seems you both always have your magical moments under the mirrorball moon.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @jennapancake @ellabellabunny123 @yearninglustfully, @littlebookbengal @helendeath @girllblogging777

[admiringlove]

tear-stained cheek. holy shit this is so long overdue i'm so sorry 😭. anyway here is the masterlist.

it's funny, isn’t it? how someone can walk into your life—unexpected, almost like a quiet storm—and leave behind a trail of emotions you'd never even known could exist. the kind that makes your heart race in the most unsteady rhythm, like the fluttering pulse of a schoolchild who has just learned the thrill of something new.

you remember it, don’t you? the first time you saw him—alhaitham. his presence etched so clearly in your memory, as if it were a moment suspended in time. his blue-green eyes, those striking, captivating hues, flicking around the towering bookshelves, searching with a sense of urgency that could be mistaken for desperation. ruby pupils narrowing slightly, scanning the titles of books that were clearly not in his jurisdiction, buried deep in the wrong section of the akademiya's library.

it was seven years ago, though it feels like another lifetime now. you were younger then, more naive. there was something so endearing about watching him from across the long corridor of dusty tomes. you could practically feel the tension radiating off him—his movements quick, sharp, trying to sort through a pile of parchments and textbooks. he was on the edge, overwhelmed by deadlines, his anxiety painting him in broad strokes. you could see it in the way his eyes darted back and forth, the slight hitch in his breath. you could’ve sworn his palms were clammy, his mind whirring with a thousand thoughts at once.

and then, just as your gaze lingered on him, his eyes met yours. for the briefest of moments, you could almost hear the shift—the silent flicker of recognition in his gaze. and just like that, the panic was gone. he gave a small, practiced smile, masking the chaos that had been there seconds before.

you chuckled quietly to yourself and took a slow stride toward him, deliberately setting your books down next to his with a soft thud. without saying a word, you sat down, as though you hadn’t just seen him nervously look for books, possibly in the wrong section—you were in the vahumana section, after all. and he, being a haravatat student, shouldn't really be in here. but your eyes couldn’t help but wander to his parchment, curiosity getting the best of you.

"that book is in the restricted section," you said, voice calm yet amused, pointing to one of the titles he had jotted down with such determination. "you're not allowed to read it without approval from a professor, and probably an inspector from the akademiya too. i know, because it involves my specialty. aetiology."

he blinked, just for a second, and then the smallest laugh escaped him. a soft, self-deprecating scoff. "i don’t know how i missed that. thank you."

that’s how your friendship began—small moments stitched together, each one quietly meaningful. your shared hours were steeped in academic conversations, unraveling dense research papers, and the whispered rhythm of scribbling as you wrote your thesis side-by-side in the library. sometimes, his sharp-tongued, golden-haired friend, kaveh, would join the two of you. and while alhaitham never seemed to notice the glances you stole, kaveh always did. he was like that—keen-eyed, always knowing, always watching.

one night, walking home under a blanket of stars with only kaveh for company, he spoke. his voice was quieter than usual, softened by the weight of what he was about to say. “you do realize he won’t notice unless you tell him, right? he’s not wired to pick up on things like that. not unless they’re spelled out for him.”

you let out a small laugh, more a puff of air than anything, and lowered your gaze to the pavement. “yeah,” you murmured, lips curving into a wistful smile. “i’ve figured that out by now. but maybe that’s part of what makes him... him. the way he doesn’t see how much i love—”

“love?” kaveh interrupted, his voice laced with disbelief, though not unkind.

“yeah,” you whispered, the word carried away like a secret on the night breeze. “unfortunately, yeah.”

you were always like that—quick to attach, even quicker to fall. you gave your heart away with the same ease you handed over your trust. quick to idolize, to elevate someone to a pedestal so high, you’d forget they were human. and then, you'd fall to your knees, treating love like a religion, a belief you held with a kind of desperate devotion. you looked at him as though he was the creator of the universe itself, as if he held the stars in his hands and had the power to shape the world with his touch.

one night, after graduation, you found yourself standing in his kitchen. the soft hum of the kettle broke the silence, and you watched him prepare tea with the careful precision only he seemed capable of. it was as if he could brew the entire universe into that simple cup. leaning against the doorway, you let the words slip from your mouth, barely planned, as if they had always been waiting there to be spoken. “you know, i think i’m falling a little, over here.”

his eyes didn't leave the kettle, and his response was quick, practical, a little detached. “you’re standing perfectly well,” he said, and you laughed softly. for all his brilliance, his understanding of emotions seemed quite lackluster. “i don’t see you falling.”

but you weren’t looking for his logic. you needed him to see you. you waited for his gaze to meet yours, and when it finally did, you took a breath, letting the night around you settle into the space between you both. the air was thick, but you pushed through it. kaveh was right. he wouldn’t know unless you told him. so you did. "alhaitham," you started, your voice barely a whisper, a tremble of something deeper. "i'm falling in love with you. actually, i’ve been in love with you for quite some time. before graduation, really."

he blinked, as though the words you had just spilled had left him tangled in a sea of confusion, and in that moment, your breath hitched in your throat, a quiet panic curling in your chest. you stumbled over your own words, quickly adding, "it's okay. don't say anything—"

but he cut you off, his voice steady despite the tension hanging thick between you two. "i did not say i didn't feel anything for you."

a relief so soft it was almost imperceptible washed over you, but you still couldn’t stop the trembling in your hands as you stepped closer, your shoulder brushing his with a closeness that felt like an unspoken promise. "you didn’t say you felt anything at all, either," you murmured, and then, almost like an afterthought, "and i’m saying... that it’s okay."

his sigh was a quiet thing, weighed down by the gravity of the unspoken, and he turned his head, his gaze finally meeting yours. there was something raw in the way he looked at you, as though the words he was about to say had been locked away for far too long. “doesn’t mean i wouldn’t like to try. i am capable of feeling, you know.”

the corner of your mouth lifted into a tender smile, soft and knowing, and you reached forward, turning off the stove with a quiet click. “you trying to experiment on me?” you teased, though your heart was racing, the words hanging between you like a fragile thread.

he smiled back, a little smirk tugging at his lips, and there was something in the way he said it that made your heart flutter. “i’m simply saying that you aren’t just a friend to me. i’m capable of feeling intimacy. romance. i don’t know, whatever you call it.”

your heart pounded so loudly in your ears, it drowned out everything else—the quiet hum of the kitchen, the soft rustle of the night outside, even your own breath. you blinked, the weight of his words settling on you, and your lips parted, unsure of what to say, unsure of what to feel. but before you could collect yourself, he rolled his eyes, an almost playful gesture that caught you off guard. then, with a newfound confidence, he pulled you close, his hand landing on your waist, firm and sure.

your eyes widened, and you stumbled over your words, "alhaitham, what are you doing? kaveh's sleeping in the other room—"

he met your gaze, his ruby pupils dark and intense, and a knowing smile tugged at his lips. “you don’t seem to believe my words,” he said, his voice low and steady, “so i’m showing you through my actions. perhaps that would make this ‘experiment,’ as you call it, more believable?”

how could you have said no? in your eyes, he had always been a god, high upon a pedestal so lofty you could barely see the top. everything he asked of you, you had already given a thousand times over without question. you saw him dangle the moon in front of you, its glow irresistible, and in that moment, you forgot that it was the stars you truly craved.

here’s the thing about loving the way you did: when it wasn’t mirrored with the same intensity, the same fire, the same burning passion, everything unraveled. you learned quickly that love, if it wasn’t met with equal fervor, would twist and contort into something unrecognizable. so, in an attempt to keep everything from falling apart, you started sweeping the cracks under the rug, telling yourself it was fine. when his words cut too deep, when he hurt you without meaning to, you pretended it didn’t sting. as friends, it wouldn’t have mattered, but as lovers? it festered, a quiet poison settling into your bones, pricking at your spine like a disease that had no cure.

faith and love were blurry concepts in your mind, tangled in a way that made it impossible to see where one ended and the other began. in his, however, the line was sharp, clear, and separate. while you raised him up, placed him on a pedestal so high it nearly touched the heavens, he never saw you as anything less than his equal. he treated you like a part of him; integral, a piece that completed the whole. but that’s where it faltered, you realized. you loved alhaitham as if he were a god, unreachable, perfect in his flaws, something to worship and adore from a distance. he, however, loved you like you were his reflection. just as flawed, just as human.

it was a cycle, you’d reckoned, one that started the moment you fell, and it was one you knew would lead to disaster from the very beginning. but in the quiet spaces between your words, there was something that still held you captive. something you couldn’t quite name, yet couldn’t escape.

“you cannot keep doing this,” he had said, his voice a sharp edge cutting through the stillness of the room. it was only hours ago, when everything still seemed normal, when the world hadn’t yet fallen into fragments. “stop bringing up the past and throwing it in my face when i least expect it. you can’t keep telling me to correct my past mistakes when there’s no way i can! tell me what i’m doing wrong as it happens, so i can fix it, instead of letting it go and dragging it up later when it’s too late for me to do anything about it!”

the words hit you like a slap, and the spoon in your hands clattered into the sink, a harsh, metallic sound that echoed in the air. you didn’t know what to say at first, only that everything in you had soured at the injustice of it. you looked at him, the weight of your anger and exhaustion pressing down on your shoulders, and you finally let it spill out, raw and untamed. “why can’t you understand what you’re doing wrong in the first place, before you do it?”

his eyes widened, cerulean irises reflecting a mix of frustration and confusion, his pupils dilated in a way that made you feel like you were miles away from each other. “how am i supposed to, if you don’t tell me?” he shouted, voice rising, desperate. “how can i know what’s hurting you and what’s not, if you don’t tell me?”

"i should’ve known this wouldn’t go anywhere in the first place."

the words hit you both like a cold wind, sharp and cutting. your eyes widened in disbelief at what you'd said, and the silence that followed was thick, suffocating, a weight that hung heavy between you both. it was a silence that spoke louder than anything, filled with all the things you had left unsaid, the actions you both had avoided. he stood there, taken aback, and yet, you couldn’t find the words to explain the ache inside you—the quiet, persistent pain of knowing that no matter how hard you tried, he could never truly see you until it was already too late.

“then perhaps we should cut it off before it rots.”

his voice was final, a verdict you hadn’t been ready for. it was as if the last string of connection between you two had snapped, leaving nothing but the cold, empty space in its wake. you turned, unable to bear the weight of his gaze any longer, and stormed out. now, here you were, sitting on a bench at the edge of the city, watching the world move around you as the sky shifted, the sun dipping lower in a swirl of colors, the evening air cool against your skin.

tears had streamed down your face a while ago, uncontrolled, as if they had been waiting to escape for far too long. the city bustled on, oblivious to the storm inside you. the clouds above seemed to echo the disarray in your chest, moving with a restless energy, while you exhaled a shaky sigh. your hands trembled, rubbing together desperately, trying to still the chaos within you, but nothing could stop it. your gaze fell to your lap, empty, lost in the sea of your own thoughts.

perhaps it was your own doing, you thought, as the weight of it all pressed against your chest. perhaps you should’ve stayed away from the very beginning. perhaps you should’ve never let that curiosity get the best of you when you first saw him in the library, never set your books down next to his, never spoken those first words. maybe none of it would have mattered, and maybe you would’ve been spared the mess of it all. but now, the silence between you two was the loudest thing you had ever known.

can you tell i'm channeling myself and how i feel into the reader

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[ivyyisbored22]

𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞—𝘑𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯 𝘹 (𝘧𝘦𝘮) 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

An academic rivals, Stray Kids one shot

Synopsis: You and Jeongin have been academic rivals since the beginning of law school and almost every professor knows that you two are the fiercest competitors in the program. Things get worse (or heated should we say?) when your professor pairs you with Jeongin for a final project...

Warnings: SMUT🔞 (with a plot). Mature content. Semi-public sex, fingering, oral (f. receiving).

Minors do not interact!!!

Note: There's not as much smut in this one compared to my previous one shots. I'm exploring my writing style but I must say I really enjoyed writing this one ^^

If this isn't your thing, you're more than welcome to skip it. Reblogs, likes, comments and feedbacks are always appreciated.

ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.

Word count: 3.2k

𝑬𝑵𝑱𝑶𝒀!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

"NO!" The two of you shouted in unison at your professor.

The professor looked at you and then Jeongin unimpressed, for the first time, he was taken aback by the unprofessional behavior from both of you.

"It is important for lawyers to learn how to collaborate. When you have your own firms, you can think about competition. But now if you want to graduate, you must do this project together."

You exchanged a glare with Jeongin, his jaw clenched as tightly as yours. The room felt thick with the tension neither of you could seem to shake.

"Can't you pair me with someone else sir?" You begged your professor.

The last thing you wanted before graduating in a few months was your head on a platter thanks to the unwantedly attractive man standing next you. You were sure God was in a very good mood when creating him.

You joined the best university of Law with high hopes of having a wonderful Uni life, but the UNIVERSE had other plans for you.

Instead of breezing through your courses, you found yourself locked in a constant battle with Jeongin, your academic nemesis. Every class, every debate, every exam, it was always about outdoing each other.

Now you have to work with him. Oh dear heaven. And has your heart always raced so fast when seeing a man with dimples?

The professor shook his head. "My decision is final. If I don't get your report by the deadline, expect that you won't be wearing your graduation cap."

Was the last he said before he gestured the two of you out of the classroom. Jeongin scoffed audibly, having to pair up with you is his worst nightmare.

He hated that he had to share the spotlight with you. He hated your relentless drive and your sharp mind that often matched his own.

But most of all, he absolutely hated that he found you cute. It was infuriating how your determination and fiery spirit only made you more attractive to him.

As you walked down the hall together, with a huge gap in between, of course. The silence was heavy and deafening. You stole a glance at Jeongin and caught him looking at you, his expression unreadable, almost annoyed.

He quickly looked away, clearing his throat.

"5pm. Library. Don't be late" His voice was low and controlled, he didnt bother waiting for a reply and walked away down the hall.

And you stood there watching him walk away, muttering to yourself, "F.M.L"

***

"You clearly don't have this point right, what is it even supposed to mean?" You asked, frustration palpable in your voice.

For two hours, you and Jeongin had been arguing over the points in the project, refusing to come to a mutual understanding. The tensed murmur of your voices earned quite a few disapproving glances from other students who were at the library.

Jeongin rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair. He was this close to taping your mouth shut with the scotch tape that was inside your pencil case.

"I do have it right. You're just not seeing the bigger picture."

"Fine, explain it to me then." You taunted.

Taking a deep breath, he leaned in closer, pointing at the document. "Here, the case precedent supports our argument, but you need to connect it to the current legislation. It's all about drawing the parallels."

Your eyes flickered with understanding, finally getting his point but you felt kind of embarrassed for not seeing it in the first place.

"Oh" You said, trying to sound neutral but mostly hiding your embarrassed voice.

"Yes, oh," Jeongin smirked, it only annoyed you more but for some reason your pulse quickened like a cheetah's sprint when you caught a glance of his deep dimple.

Get yourself together. He's your rival.

"Anyways..." you muttered, trying to refocus.

For the next hour, the two of you finally settled into a proper argument for your project and began brainstorming ideas. Despite the initial tension, you both fell into a rhythm, challenging and pushing each other in a way that brought out your best work.

Suddenly, when you reached the laptop opened on the table, Jeongin's hand softly brushed over yours. The touch was electric, sending a shiver down your spine. You pulled back quickly, your face flushing.

"Sorry," you mumbled, not meeting his eyes. Jeongin's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he cleared his throat.

"No problem."

The moment passed, but the charged atmosphere remained. Every time your eyes met, it was as if the air around you crackled with unspoken words.

"I'm going to um, find a book on this topic," You said slowly getting up. If you remained next to him for another minute, your heart would burst out of your ribcage.

"We have the internet for that," Jeongin raised a suspicious brow, looking at you narrowing his eyes. "Why not just look it up online?"

"Well, the library might have some unique sources," you replied, trying to sound casual as you collected your things. Besides, it’s a good excuse to get out of here for a bit.

Jeongin's eyes followed you, the intensity of his stare making your skin tingle. "Sure," he said, his voice laced with something you couldn’t quite place—was it disappointment or something else?

You could feel his gaze lingering on you even after you turned away, as you walked towards the far end of library, to the secluded section just for Law & Crime.

Even after you walked away, you could almost hear the tension humming between you.

Searching for a book in the dimly lit aisles, you tried to steady your breathing. But every small noise, every rustle of paper seemed amplified, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that Jeongin was somehow still very close.

As you were tracing your fingers the thick spines of the books, you honestly weren't browsing for any answers. You just wanted to get away from Jeongin. A long shadow fell over you, keeping you locked in place.

A hand grabbed the top shelf, you instantly recognised that watch and that ring on the index finger. You stood there without turning around but that strong minty cologne englufed you.

"Found the answers you needed?"

His voice didn't have to sound that deep. His voice didn't have to make your pulse race again. His voice absolutely did not have to make you want to press your mouth on his to shut him up.

You turned your head to the side, trying to keep your thoughts straight. "I'm still," you swallowed. "Finding it."

"For forty minutes?"

Forty minutes passed?! You were so lost in thought, you completely lost track of time. Finally you turned around facing Jeongin, the look on his face was hot enough to start a fire.

His eyes were dark and intense, his expression a mix of frustration and something else you couldn't quite place.

"Jeongin," you started, but he cut you off stepping closer, making your back press against the shelf, there was only a sliver of space between the two of you.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. "You were hiding."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words died on your lips as his gaze pinned you in place. The air between you crackled with tension, every inch of space shrinking.

"I wasn't hiding," you finally managed, though your voice was barely a whisper, "I just needed a break"

Jeongin took a step back, crossing his arms, "From what? Me?"

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "Maybe."

Jeongin's eyes searched yours, and for a moment, the rivalry seemed to fade, leaving only the raw intensity of the moment. His hand fell onto your waist pulling you into him, his body pressing on yours.

Your heart began to pound again at the feeling of his touch, your hands fell on his chest, wanting to push him away but somehow your heart couldn't find a way to do so.

"You're lying," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin, "You can't stand being away from me any more than I can stand being away from you"

He turned his head and before you could respond, his lips crashed onto yours, silencing any protest. It was fierce and demanding, a release of all the tension that had been building between you and him.

Four years of frustration, competion and unspoken feelings crashing down right here.

Your eyes widened but you found yourself kissing him back just as fervently, your hands going up from his shirt, tangling in his hair as you pressed closer to his body.

Every touch, every movement of his tongue was electric, your bodies moving in perfect sync, the world around you faded away, leaving only the heat and intensity of the moment.

Teeth against teeth and Jeongin's tongue pushing against yours demanding dominance, nothing seemed to exist other than you and him. He tasted like chocolate and caramel, sweet and rich and goodness, him.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily, Jeongin's eyes were dark with desire, his hand still resting on your waist.

"This doesn't change anything," You whispered though your voice lacked conviction. Jeongin smirked, his thumb brushing against your hip.

"No Darling," He said brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

"This changes everything." As he pulled you back in for another kiss.

You melted into his mouth, couldn't help but agree no matter how much you hated it. The lines between rivalry and desire had blurred beyond recognition. You could simply drown into him, wetness began pooling between your legs.

Holy fucking shit this man is an incredible kisser.

It was slower, more deliberate, each movement sending shivers down your spine. You moulded into him, forgetting about the project, the library, everything except the feel of his lips on yours and the way his hand held the side of your head with a possessive intensity.

Jeongin's hand went up your skirt, grazing your thigh, the feel of his palm on your skin made you softly moan into his mouth, he eagerly responded with a moan of his own.

He pulled back, catching for a breath before he said, "Tell me to stop before it's too late"

Jeongin's fingers squeezed your thigh making you inhale a long breath, your hands instantly pressed on his shoulders. His fingers went more upwards and stroked the thin fabric covering your wet crotch.

He couldn't suppress a chuckle as he tilted his head to the side, "Last chance darling" He leaned in closer, "Yes. Or No?"

"No," You whispered when you felt his fingers stroke your wetness again. You were gonna hate yourself later, but right now you were so aroused, no other thought made sense in your brain.

"Don't stop" You said as softly as possible and before your words fully left your mouth, Jeongin's lips collided with yours.

Every single thought vanished out of his head as he twisted the lace band of your panties and pulled it down in one strike and the next second a finger went through your wet folds.

You moaned a bit more loudly into his mouth before pulling back as you jerked when another finger entered you.

"So wet for me," He kissed the corner of your lips as his fingers worked in and out of your dripping cunt.

"Can't ignore me that easily can ya?" A sly smirk played in the corner of his lips, the way his fingers worked in you couldn't bring words out of your mouth.

"I hate you," You managed to say through a moany, whispering voice, your fingers pressing on his arms.

"You hate me, but your pussy is begging me for more," Jeongin's voice was deep and almost like growl, it made the tiny hairs in the back of your neck stand up.

There was no slowness in his pace of pumping his fingers inside of you, he went in and out and circled your clit, your back arched against the shelf.

A whimper escaped your lips, Jeongin traced his finger on your lower lip before saying, "This is a library okay?"

You had little time to fully process what he said, Jeongin pulled his fingers out of you and sank onto his knees, spreading your thighs and yanking your skirt up, he dived his face up in your wet heat.

Your hand immediately slapped close over your mouth to prevent the loud moan that threatened to escape, the sensation of Jeongin's tongue on your pussy sent sizzles rush through your body.

Jeongin felt like this was the best thing he ever laid his mouth on. The taste of your sweet pussy was so addicting, he wanted to drown in it and the scent of your arousal drove his senses out of him.

You've had your fair share of men over the years and so has Jeongin with other women, but the two of your felt like this was the ultimate answer, the missing piece of your competitive puzzle.

Jeongin's tongue expertedly licked your pussy, your hand gripped his hair, needing something to hold onto. He slowly grazed his teeth over your tender clit, you shook around him in a soft cry, the sound sent a jolt straight to his cock.

"Jeongin..." You whimpered softy, blood rushing into his brain as he heard his name in that sweetest voice.

"You taste divine darling" Jeongin gave a languorous lick, "I can simply live by eating you out"

Your head fell back at his words and at his tongue that dived inside your dripping cunt, feasting on your arousal.

Jeongin looked up at you, you were covering your mouth silencing your moans while glistening tears were leaking down from the corners of your closed eyes. He thought it was the hottest thing he ever witnessed.

He took the chance to push two of his fingers again, stretching your folds as he gave so much attention to your swollen pearl. He continued in an intense pace, sucking, licking and finger fucking, your arousal dripped down his hands and your thighs.

He lapped it all up, feeling nearly intoxicated by the way you taste.

His cock twitched and was harder than a rock, aching and begging to break free from his pants. But he ignored it even though the pain felt excruciating, he focused solely on your pussy.

Jeongin was animalistic, his mouth and fingers ruthlessly working on you to the point you could see stars erupt behind your eyes. You had never experienced something this pleasuring, it was euphoric.

He groaned into your wet heat when he felt your knees buckle, another lazily, long and languid lick was what undid you, your orgasm flooded his mouth.

You came shuddering, panting heavily. You let go of Jeongin's hair when you felt a soft tissue on your skin, Jeongin wiped and kissed your thighs and fixed your clothes.

As he got up on his feet, his hand was holding you fiercely since you were wobbling because your legs lost balance. If just his tongue and hands made your legs go numb, his cock could do beyond.

"I, oh my God—" Realization began crashing into your head like a current wave. Your academic rival just had you in the library, your cheeks flushed crimson, so pink someone could compare it to blooming roses.

Jeongin pushed his tongue in the inside of his cheek, it's impossible to resist his charm.

The Universe was in your side thankfully today, no one had walked into you— yet, but the what if thoughts couldn't stop playing in your head.

What if a professor or someone had walked in you and him? The two of you pushed your luck as far as it could have gone tonight.

Jeongin pressed onto you again, so close you could feel his bulge on you. It was so hard for him to ignore since his cock was that hard.

He literally wants to fill you right here but the smell of sex soaking the air wouldn't take a genius passing by to put two and two together.

"Still hate me?" he asked so casually, almost as if nothing had happened, as if what you both just did in the fucking library was the most normal thing in the world.

You looked away, unable to answer his question. It was impossible to hate him. You hated yourself if anything because you couldn’t hate him the way you wanted. And after the way he just made you feel right now? Hate wasn't even close to what you felt.

Every time you found a reason to, when he answered questions before you in class or got one percent of a grade above you, his infectious smile and irresistible body would dissolve your resolve.

That dimpled grin of his had a way of sneaking past your defenses, making it harder and harder to convince yourself that he was just your rival.

"I don’t hate you," You admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. The words hung between you, heavy with the truth you’d been avoiding.

Jeongin’s expression softened, the usual smirk fading into something more serious, more vulnerable. "Good," he said, leaning in and pecking your lips.

"Because I never hated you either."

You met his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest as the reality of his words sunk in. All this time, the rivalry, the arguments, the competition—none of it had been about hatred.

It was something else entirely, something you both had been too stubborn to acknowledge until now.

Jeongin reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. "This... whatever this is between us, it’s complicated," he said, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. "But I don’t regret it."

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes for a moment as you let yourself savor the warmth of his hand.

"Neither do I," You whispered. When you opened your eyes, you found Jeongin looking at you with a mixture of longing and determination.

"We’re still rivals," he said, his voice firm but laced with a hint of playfulness. "But that doesn’t mean we can’t have... this." His hand went down and squeezed your ass.

"This?" You echoed, your lips curving into a small smile. "You mean sneaking around in libraries and trying to pretend we don’t want to rip each other’s clothes off?"

Jeongin chuckled, his thumb tracing your lower lip as he bit his. "Something like that. But maybe we can do more than just sneak around."

Your smile widened, the tension between you shifting into something lighter, something full of promise. "I think I can live with that."

His eyes darkened with desire as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss that made your knees weak.

"Then it’s settled," he murmured against your lips. "Tomorrow, after we finish this project, we’ll figure out the rest."

You nodded, too breathless to say anything more. As he pulled away, you felt a sense of anticipation bubbling up inside you, mingled with the thrill of what lay ahead.

The two of you made your way back to the table and packed your belongings, calling it a night and exiting the library. Once you made it to the parking lot, Jeongin's eyes fell on yours, making your heart skip a beat.

"Goodnight, Jeongin," you said softly, stepping back.

"Goodnight," he replied, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he finally turned to leave to his car.

As you watched him walk away, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

Things were definitely going to be different from now on. You might still be rivals in the classroom, but outside of it, the possibilities were endless—and you were more than ready to explore every single one.

The lines between rivalry and desire blurred beyond recognition and now there was no turning back.

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Thank you for reading!

xx,

Ivyy

[tealeavesandthorns]

Maria and Michael Relationship Headcanons:

The first time there was a real acknowledgement their might be something between Maria was in his office after he and Maria were talking late one night. Michael had found outside the closed library one night, she had gone their to escape her noisy flatmates and found it closed. Michael who was working late offered to share his office and Maria though hesitant accepted. She accidentally fell asleep on his sofa and Michael covered her up with a blanket then brought her coffee and breakfast in the morning.

Maria and Michael's first kiss was in his office, she was helping him with some research for his latest book. Reading led to talking and eventually a kiss took place. Maria realizing her mistake fled quickly and avoided him for a couple of days.

Though Maria was worried about both his career and her studies she felt a connection with Michael that she found very difficult to come by. He loved literature as much as her, they had a similar taste in music and movies, they shared a sense of humour and he always knew how to make her laugh. That meant eventually when they met again and they both admitted that they'd missed each other.

The first time they slept together was at Michael's flat.

Their relationship was mostly kept quiet, there was quiet rumour about the two but as both were happy it died out quite quickly. They both decided to keep it quiet because they didn't want the other to face any repercussions.

Maria stayed there quite a lot, she'd moved in with some housemates determined to survive on her own through university but it wasn't going well because they were mostly rowdy party people and Maria enjoyed quieter evenings. Maria eventually moved out into her own small flat.

During her final year Michael proposed to Maria and Maria said yes. The two became secretly engaged.

Everything went to shit a few months later when Michael's vindictive ex-wife revealed their relationship to a room full of people at a party, most people were already aware and didn't really care, until she accused Maria of sleeping with Michael to help her grades. She made a formal complaint and an investigation had to take place. She also revealed that they were not yet divorced (something Michael had not told Maria because his ex-wife refused to sign the papers until she got a bigger chunk of a payout - despite the fact she had a new boyf) - feeling betrayed, hurt and dejected Maria broke things off and isolated herself.

It was a scandal, Maria's parents and grandparents found out, her father was arrested for punching Michael at one point. Maria resat her exams and rewrote her essays to prove she hadn't had help or cheated. In her anger and upset she became depressed for a while and wouldn't speak to Michael ignoring his calls, letters and texts. She believed she'd been made a fool of, been lied to and almost ruined her chance at a career because of her heart.

[anaskinned]

Petyr Baelish X Reader

Professor Baelish Au

TW: Smut, degradation, age gap, fingering, teacher x student, bullying, stalking, slapping, spanking, choking.

This is my first smut! Get cozy :)

——————-——————————————————

Y/N has been avoiding going to class for a week straight now.

Professor Baelish never used to take attendance, but the girl who always sat in the front, the girl whose eyes followed him like a shadow, had not been showing up to class. He had grown strangely amused by her eager nature. She was undeniably stunning, possessing a truly gorgeous physique. She diligently took notes without pause, arrived a steadfast ten minutes early for every class, and consistently scored above average on every test. His curiosity only grew with each day she didn’t show.

The first day he noticed almost immediately. He glanced at his watch as her usual arrival time passed, his gaze flicking back to the classroom door expectantly. Five minutes later, a sense of unease crept in, prompting him to reach for his laptop bag placed neatly beside the desk. He unzipped the bag and withdrew his sleek laptop, his fingers tapping the power button to awaken the screen. The soft hum of the device filled the quiet classroom as he waited for it to boot up. His eyes scanned the inbox, but there were no new emails to distract him from the growing mystery of her absence. She never arrived so he let it go. A one off.

The next day, he arrived early, positioning himself in the hallway a full fifteen minutes before the lecture was scheduled to begin. Leaning against the corridor wall with an almost obsessive determination, he crossed his arms tightly, his posture rigid yet filled with an undeniable intensity. Every passing student received a nod from him, but his gaze remained fixed on the door through which she should have walked. The minutes stretched on, and despite his early vigilance and the magnetic pull of his expectation, she never appeared. His curiosity now tinged with a hint of obsession as he couldn't shake the thought of her absence. The third day, consumed by an escalating obsession, he delved into the school's database, meticulously searching for her schedule.

On the fourth day, his patience with her reached an all new low. Anticipation coiled tightly within him as he positioned himself discreetly outside her class before his own. He watched intently as she emerged hurriedly from the classroom, her steps quickened by some unseen urgency. With a swift and calculated move, he intercepted her path, his hands reaching out to grasp her wrist firmly but gently, halting her in her tracks. Her surprise was palpable, mirrored by the intensity in his eyes as he faced her.

“Y/N.” He grabbed her wrist firmly, stopping her in her tracks.

She stood frozen, her mouth gaping.

“Professor Baelish.”

“Why are you avoiding my class?”

“I’m not - I wasn’t.” She stammered.

He studied her face intently, scanning for any hint of deception or evasion. "Pretty girls shouldn't lie. Explain to me how you've managed to attend every class for the last four days and yet remain conspicuously absent from mine." His tone was measured, yet beneath it simmered a blend of curiosity and a hint of something more personal.

“Professor.” She squeaked, gesturing her eyes to the crowd forming around the two in the hallway.

Baelish sighed, releasing his grip on Y/N’s wrist.

“You, my dear, are coming to my office. Go.” He hissed in her ear and held her gaze. His piercing blue eyes bore into hers with a mix of scrutiny and calculation before he turned abruptly, striding away in the opposite direction.

She hurried to his office, her heart racing with each door she passed along the way. As she approached his department door, she stole a cautious glance through the glass pane, only to find his office empty and devoid of any sign of him. Pausing uncertainly for a moment, she wrestled with indecision before abruptly turning on her heel and retreating in the opposite direction.

Thump

Professor Baelish stood silently behind her. He observed her every move with a penetrating gaze, his expression unreadable yet filled with an unsettling intensity.

“Wrong way.” He huffed impatiently.

He held his arm out, and with his other, he opened and waited for her to enter the office.

She pushed passed him and sat in the chair opposite to the desk.

He took his place across from her, effortlessly shedding his suit jacket to reveal a physique that bespoke strength and refinement. With a graceful movement, he crossed one leg over the other, his demeanor exuding a captivating blend of confidence and intrigue.

“You know why I have brought you here. Now tell me the truth.”

"I was sick," she stammered, her voice wavering slightly as she met his unwavering gaze.

"Darling, we all lie. You happen to be the worst one I've ever encountered," he remarked coolly, his words carrying a mix of admonishment and fascination.

“Sir, I really can't do this.”

“Such proper obedience for a disobedient girl.” He sucked his teeth while watching her thoughtfully. “Why do you sit in the front for my lectures but sit in the back for every one of your other classes?” he inquired, his tone a blend of curiosity and a hint of playful challenge.

“Sir - I”

“I watched you cry after checking your phone multiple times.”

Her face bursted into an embarrassed flush.

"I want to know who has you so captivated," he pressed, his voice carrying a mix of intrigue and a subtle edge of possessiveness.

"I… I love your class, and I find you so… charming," she confessed softly, her words hesitant yet tinged with genuine admiration.

“Go on.”

“And some people have been starting rumours about me.”

“Saying?”

“That I - I fuck you… to get good grades.” Her voice trailed off and her eyes faltered to the floor.

"What a story that would be," he mused absent-mindedly. "No kidding," she replied, a hint of nervousness in her voice. The pair made heated eye contact and when neither of them laughed, they settled into an uncomfortable silence.

“Give me names.”

“Seriously Professor, I don't want to make myself a bigger target. Can we just drop this?”

“Y/N, I'm not going to let them sully your academic achievements. You're too smart to be labelled a whore.” He watched her for a long moment before dropping his voice and bending over the table. “Are you a whore Y/N?”

She was embarrassed by the question because she had to stop and think. Is she a whore? No, not overtly, but she was undeniably enthralled by the man, captivated by his presence alone. Thoughts of him consumed her mind constantly, and she eagerly anticipated each class they shared. The thought of him following her all day made her thighs clench in ways that were wrong.

"Lost in thought. For such a simple question," he remarked, his eyes fixed on her with a hungry intensity. He circled the desk slowly, the sound of his tsking accompanying each deliberate step.

“Sir, please let me go.”

“Well now I'm not sure Ms. L/N.” He now stood behind her chair. “How can I condemn this behaviour when I can't place you? Either you're a good girl, or you're a whore.”

“I am not a whore!” She bit out.

“Very good girl, Y/N.”

“Sir… I - don't know what you want from me?”

"Names," he demanded, his voice tinged with anger and authority, cutting through the tense atmosphere in the room.

“I can't. I really don't mind.”

“Should I force them out of you?”

“You can't.”

He laughed callously. "Bend over the desk," he instructed, his tone firm and commanding, his demeanor unyielding.

She sat there, looking up at him in pure shock, her expression a mix of disbelief and uncertainty.

“Now. Whore.”

He allowed the fear to shake her to the core. Retrieving a large wooden ruler from behind his desk, he held it firmly, the weight of his intention palpable in the air.

“Let’s start simple, Y/N. How many students are involved in the rumour?”

She didn't speak.

He wound his arm back, striking her round ass with a hard smack.

“Fuck!” She cried out.

“Good girls wouldn't use such colourful language. Now, how many students are involved?”

“Five!” she hissed.

“Why would they start such a nasty little rumour?”

She shook her head.

Thwack!

“Ah.” She threw her head back, finally making eye contact with her superior.

“Why Y/N?”

No answer.

Thwack.

"Where there's smoke," he murmured, bending down to gently rub the sore spot on her rump, "there’s usually fire." His voice held a mixture of warning and curiosity, probing for more information beneath the surface.

Oh, there was definitely a fire; she could feel it between her legs, her back arching slightly as she leaned into his tender touch.

He let his hand fall to his side before spanking her again.

“God, I started them, Sir.”

He paused, absorbing the information slowly, his expression unreadable as he processed the revelation.

“Now why is that?”

“I left my fucking note book unattended and they read it.”

“Where is the notebook now?”

Her eyes dropped in a mix of sadness and shame. Without a word, Baelish had a sneaking suspicion that the notebook resided in her backpack. Straightening his posture, he proceeded to search through her bag until he found the notebook she carried into every class.

Y/N bowed her head, holding her bent position on the desk. She looked like she could burst into tears at any moment.

“Have a seat.” He gestured to the girls former seat.

He flipped through the pages of notes, maintaining deliberate eye contact with her before turning each page. He couldn't help but be impressed by how diligently she recorded every word he uttered in class. However, as he reached the back of the notebook, he discovered something more provocative stored there.

He looked up at Y/N, his eyebrows raising with each smut-filled page he read. Some of its topics included hair pulling, choking, fucking raw, and degradation. A smile couldn't help but cross his face, and he couldn't help but notice his pants growing tighter. These were all categories he not only enjoyed, but excelled at.

“So this is a crush?”

“Yes sir.”

“How does crushing escalate to fucking?”

“Sir I don't know.”

“I can't help but imagine the way he would stand over me and call me nasty names.” He said in a dull tone, his voice tinged with exasperation and annoyance.

“Stop!” She cried, the tears running down her face. “Just report it to the dean and let me leave with dignity.”

“And why would I do that?” He perplexed. “So the school can investigate me? So you can evade punishment?”

“You know I have way more to lose than you.” She sobbed. “I would lose my scholarship and the school would have me expelled.”

“Thats not real punishment. You know why?”

Her eyes blazed with anger now, a fiery intensity that matched her frustration.

"Why, Professor Baelish?" she bit out, her voice infused with defiance and fake curiosity.

“Because if the rumour is, that I fuck my young students?” He said, now getting in her face. “I better get to fuck said younger student. Get on your knees.” He demanded.

“Sir-”

“Now.”

She felt the fire spreading from her cunt to her head. She knew this was wrong but her body couldn't help but submit.

He reached for the book and flipped through several pages before decisively tearing out a specific page and tossing it before her eyes.

“Read it out loud.” He barked.

“Today I came into class and watched Professor Baelish-”

He towered over her, lifting her chin to meet his gaze. “You know what part.”

She cringed, absolutely tortured by the private words she had written, and took a shaky breath before continuing.

“Today I imagined him reprimanding me in front of the class, and sitting on his lap, everyone watching as he stroked me.”

“Good girl.” He cooed. “Keep going.”

“I - I would let him do anything he wanted to me to be honest.”

"That's it, finally some truthfulness," he remarked, his tone laced with a mix of satisfaction and intrigue.

He looked deeply into her eyes as he began to undo his belt buckle and pull down his pants.

Y/N watched in bewilderment as the moment she had fantasized about for half a year unfolded before her eyes.

“Keep reading, whore.”

Her eyes fluttered to and from the page, as if she didn't want to miss anything.

“I wish I could stroke his cock, licking and slipping my mouth around the head.”

“Do you now?” He said, letting his member free and bounce against his lower stomach.

Y/N’s eyes lit up like giant saucers, staring directly at his cock.

“You have my permission.”

She lurched forward eagerly, her warm breath huffed before taking in his head. She made eye contact, watching the way his mouth twitched and hissed with each slow movement of her tongue.

He became impatient with her slow pace, snatching her hair by the base of her neck and saying “open wide.”

Her eyes watered as he impaled her mouth and relentlessly fucked her mouth with need. She hummed against his member, taking another inch with each stroke. It wasn't long before she took him in completely.

“Fuck you are such a dirty fucking whore, Y/N.” He cooed, relishing the sensation.

After a couple minutes, he pulled her lips off his cock and brought her to her feet.

"Stand by the desk," he instructed firmly.

Y/N stood, but Baelish stopped her abruptly, yanking her back with a tight grip on her wrist.

“You forgot your smut.” He said impatiently.

Y/N couldn't help but feel embarrassed by the whole scenario. She reluctantly bent over to retrieve the piece of paper and reported behind his desk.

“Read.”

“I wish he would grab me by the neck and push me onto the desk.”

He fixated on her, pushing her chest onto the desk while the base of her neck was pinned to the mahogany.

“Like this?”

She didn't say anything but let out a pathetic whimper.

He tightened his grip on her neck and used his other hand to smack her tender bottom.

“Fuck - yes - like this!”

He laughed curtly, grinding his hard cock against her ass.

He used his full weight to immobilize her tiny body; letting his tongue lick the outside rim of her ear.

She moaned loudly, huffing a cloudy wet stain on the desk.

“Keep reading.”

“He would lick my pussy till I cried, while calling me horrible names and making me beg for it.” She felt so naked while being fully clothed.

He removed the weight of his torso before pulling Y/N’s jeans down, and inspecting the outline of her pussy lips through her panties.

“Your needy cunt is dripping, little whore.”

She rested her forehead against the table as she huffed, her thighs clenching in need.

He peeled her wet garment off her soaked pussy lips, pressing his digits to her sensitive clit.

She gasped, urgently bucking her hips to gain more friction.

Baelish didn't appreciate the gesture; he tsked disapprovingly and smacked her hard on the ass.

“Let me explain this to you right fucking now. Any pleasure you receive, will be because I wanted you to experience it. The same goes for pain.” He smacked her ass harder. “Apologize for being a greedy slut.”

“I’m sorry.”

Thwack.

"Apologize for being a greedy slut!" he demanded, his voice stern and uncompromising, echoing in the dimly lit room.

“I’m sorry for being a greedy slut!” She grated out.

“Good girl.” He hummed. His fingers splayed against her pussy, his middle and ring finger plunging into her cunt. His thumb rubbed in tight circles around her clit as she squirmed on the desk.

Her moans were getting louder and louder as she grew closer to her climax.

“Good girl, Y/N.” He leaned down, smashing his lips into hers.

His lips were heavenly, his tongue a lubed weapon, and his saliva was hot, like a warm shot down her throat. The kiss was pure electricity.

“I’m so close.” She wept.

“Are you?” his demeanour, sweet and inviting.

“I’m going to cum.” She wailed.

“No you're not.” and just like that, he removed his fingers, leaving her so empty and needy.

“But-but-”

“But - but..?” he mimicked her whiny voice. “Any pleasure you receive will be because I wanted you to experience it.” He smacked her bottom again, the stinging red mark branding her ass. “Greedy whore.”

Y/N huffed in frustration before Baelish thrusted his cock into her pussy.

“Fuck!” she cried.

“Fuck, that is a nice tight cunt.” He groaned, placing both hands on either side of her ass.

Y/N’s pussy swallowed his cock, the girth alone igniting a sweet pain; sweeter than she could ever imagine. He pumped in and out of her effortlessly, letting his hands roam her breasts from behind.

She turned her head to the side, watching his facial features contort in erotic ways that made her lower body flush with butterflies.

“Fuck you're so beautiful.” He drawled, savoring each syllable as though he had effortlessly plucked the words straight from her lips.

His hand reached around her neck as he yanked her hair towards his chest, asserting control and dominance. He was now in a better position to grind deeper into her wetlands.

“Is this what the little whore wanted?” He whispered in her ear, slightly out of breath.

“Yes sir.” She moaned.

"Are you going to leave your book and those lacy panties in my possession?" His voice held a strong dominant tone.

“Yes sir.” She wasn't sure what made her cunt clench. Was it the thought of him jacking off with her panties, or him delving into her every desire? Either way, she melted.

“Good fucking whore.” His thrusts were growing faster and more erratic. "You have detention with me for the rest of the semester," he murmured, his voice lowering. "I own you."

“Please sir, I promise to serve my punishment!” Y/N could barely take it anymore. Her climax was so close, but she knew he would deny her release if she dared to push too far. She clenched her teeth, desperate to hold on despite the overwhelming need pulsing through her.

"Beg me to cum," he whispered, his tone thick with lust and dominance, his eyes locked onto hers, commanding her submission.

“Fuck sir, I'm sorry I brought you shame. Please let me cum, I will obey you - please!”

His hand found her clit and began toe-curling circles on her sensitive nub.

“Please Sir!” she squealed frantically.

“Cum all over this cock little girl.” He groaned, pounding her cunt desperately.

The pair climaxed at the same time, their sweaty bodies collapsing into a hot heap on the desk. It wasn't till five minutes had passed had he shifted off of her back. He walked towards the cabinet on the wall and pulled out a fresh towel, his movements deliberate and controlled. A momentary distraction from the tension that lingered in the air between them.

He began to clean her up, wiping any fluids that didn't exist prior to this entanglement.

"I knew you were trouble the moment I saw you, but mistook it as naivety," he chuckled softly, a hollow amusement in his voice.

Y/N laid on the desk in thought, pondering why he had singled her out, questioning if it was intentional or mere coincidence.

"Why choose me?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of apprehension, as if probing into the depths of his fixation.

"You are special," he whispered softly, brushing a loving finger down the apple of her cheek. His touch was tender, his words sincere, as he gazed into her eyes with affection.

"Why?" she asked, searching for understanding in his words and touch. "I am a private man," he began, his tone firm yet tinged with a hint of regret. As he sat down on the chair, he gently pulled her down beside him. "The moment you left that book unattended was the moment you jeopardized my privacy. That is why you have been punished." His words hung in the air, conveying both his need for personal boundaries and a sense of consequence for her actions. He sighed, “If you break our agreement or miss a class again, I will show up to your dorm room and fuck you senseless. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," she replied softly.

"Now, hand over your panties," he ordered, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "And the book."

Without hesitation, she heeded his command and stepped away from the lace panties. They were damp to the touch, embarrassingly so, but nonetheless, she handed them over, along with the book.

"Now get to class, you have ten minutes." He spoke sternly, pushing her off his lap and pulling her jeans back up. He got up from his seat and kissed her tenderly, his lips lingering softly against hers. "See you soon, Professor Baelish." She blushed. "Goodbye, pet."

[cameronspecial]

Let Me Write About You, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Writing About Their Sex Life

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.8K

Summary: Rafe and Y/N finally get to take a class together, but maybe she didn't choose the right class to share with him.

Masterlist

Y/N knew she shouldn’t have let Rafe take an elective with her. She should’ve called it fate when they didn’t get into the same class during the fall semester, but Rafe was very determined to be in the same class as her. She honestly does love being able to spend time with him during class; it’s just that maybe a creative writing class isn’t the best for both of them. Rafe respects her boundaries during class, letting her focus on taking notes and listening to the professor, so that isn’t the problem. No, the problem is that Rafe hates creative writing as a whole. He isn’t great with words and the only topic he wants to write about is his angel. So far he is skating by with his assignments; however, he needs to do decent on his final portfolio to pass the class. Y/N makes it her mission to make sure her boyfriend passes and she is starting to regret it. For the past assignments, she didn’t have time to go over his work before he submitted it, so she was unaware of the recurring theme in all of his work. 

Rafe’s eyes bore into her as she read over his work, anxious for what she had to say. He doesn’t care about passing. If he doesn’t pass, he can always let his dad’s money pass hands to change that F into a B. Except this is a little different, Y/N wants him to do well so he wants to do well. Y/N glances over each word and heat starts to build inside of her heart. 

I don’t believe in religion, 

yet I do believe in Angels. 

Because I found mine, 

And she is absolutely divine. 

I live for her smile.

She makes my life worthwhile. 

She stole my heart

Because she is a work of art. 

His poem has no structure and isn’t long enough per the assignment requirements. It does rhyme, yet she has to admit it isn’t very good. She is sweetened up by the fact that he chose her as his subject. As she reads the rest of his pieces, she notices how she is his only subject. She finally reads the last piece and looks up at him with a soft smile. “You wrote about me,” she states, flipping through the pages. He nods, “Yeah, you are my muse, Angel. Do you like it?” “It’s really sweet, Rafe. I just don’t know how I feel knowing that you wrote about our sex life for your short story and that our professor is going to mark this,” she explains. He flashes a proud smile, “Yeah, I think I really captured your beauty in that one. I was thinking about reading that one during our last class when we can share our work. Show that guy, who sits in front of us who keeps looking back at you, just how satisfied you are with me.” Y/N’s eyes widen to saucers and she shakes her head. “Rafe, please don’t read this in class. In fact, I think we need to work on some of these pieces because you can’t only write about me,” she begs, turning the stack of papers so he can read her feedback. He frowns, “Come on let me write about you, Angel.” 

“You can, but if you want to pass, you have to choose three other topics to talk about. You can choose one piece to keep about me.”

“But I only want to write about you. Plus, I can’t choose because they all have to do with you so I love them all.”

“I know. Maybe we can alter the topic so it is still about me but not as obvious. My favourite is this sudden fiction. Your stream of consciousness is really good and you bring the scene to life with the senses. So let's see what you can write about for your other pieces.”

Rafe nods at his girlfriend’s suggestion. His heart flutters at the thought that she likes one of his works. He takes a second to seriously consider what she says and a light bulb goes off. “How about for the poem, I write about the future family that we can have?” he considers, already writing down the lines he is thinking of. She reads over what he writes and a smile blooms across her face. “That is a great idea. Now, we just need to look at two other topics.” 

———

Y/N is studying in the library when Rafe comes rushing to her with his phone in his hand. “Angel, Angel. Look what I got on my portfolio,” he announces. His phone shoots before her eyes and she has to hold his hand to keep it steady. Y/N looks at the screen, reading the B- on display. She claps her hand in celebration and then wraps her arms around his neck. “This is amazing, Rafe. I am so proud of you,” she kisses his cheek. He revels in her pride, “It wasn’t all me, Angel. I have you and your brilliant brain to thank for the help. You make me smarter every single day.” Rafe couldn’t feel more lucky to have such an amazing girlfriend, who helps him grow as a person and succeed.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @queen-shadow22 @victory-in-the-llama @drewsmusee @starkowswife

[lonelywitchv2]

ink and blood (strawberries pt. 3)

hey guys! sorry it’s been so long, i finished the fic but then someone stole my laptop and phone (i had to get new ones) and i got locked out of my email!! it's totally giving ao3 writer but anyways. enjoy <3

summary: this time it was you who broke, not your ink pot.

content: violence, cursing, fluff, lowkey emotional crisis, i think that’s it? idk, sirius is an asshole in this (shocker….)

wc: 2.7k (there was more but i hated it all so i deleted it so expect a part 4 by the end of this year if you’re lucky)

Sirius stormed out of Gryffindor Tower, running right into Remus, who tried stopping him for an explanation. The act was pointless, of course, as Sirius shoved past him and went straight to James.

“Give me the map,” Sirius said.

“Why?” James asked, slightly hesitant.

“James. Give me the map,” Sirius repeated, anger rooted deep within his words.

James eyed the boy briefly, turning to look at Remus before reaching into his pocket and pulling out the folded piece of parchment. Before he could even say a word, Sirius snatched the map out of his hands and disappeared down the corridor, leaving his two friends behind.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” Sirius muttered under his breath, his wand pointed to the now unfolded map. Just as always, ink appeared on the page and painted the familiar picture of the Marauder's Map, along with each and every corner of the school. Sirius’ dark eyes scanned across the parchment, looking for the name of his brother. Finding the name he was looking for, Sirius headed towards the Great Hall, watching on the map as his brother exited the hall and started walking his way. In a matter of minutes, Sirius and Regulus were just a corner away from running into each other.

Regulus had no time to process his brother's presence as he rounded the corner, failing to dodge Sirius’ swing at his jaw, the punch leaving him to stumble back roughly. The younger Black brother looked up, hand instinctively going up to the numb area of his face as he caught the eyes of his brother. 

Sirius was far from over, however, as he launched himself at Regulus, knocking him to the floor and landing punch after punch onto the body and face of his brother. Regulus struggled beneath his older brother, continuously trying and failing to get Sirius off of him. Sirius, blinded by rage, only hit Regulus harder the more he tried to push him away.

When Regulus was finally able to muster up the strength to shove Sirius off of him, he scrambled away from him, leaning against a wall as he struggled to stand.

“What the hell, Sirius?” Regulus exclaimed, a shake in his voice as the pain engulfed him.

“How could you? I saw the letter you wrote to her, Regulus, why can’t you just leave her alone?” Sirius shouted, his throat threatening to close up as he shook the letter at his brother.

“I- that was a private letter, Sirius,” Regulus said weakly, heart dropping to his stomach.

“If you don’t shut up, so help me Godric, I will kill you,” Sirius said darkly, pushing himself up from where Regulus had shoved him and walking towards him. 

Regulus was more prepared this time, albeit, significantly more bloody, and stumbled toward Sirius to defend himself. It was Sirius, again, who made the first swing, hitting Regulus square in the nose, followed by a crack. Regulus was surprisingly quick to respond, even with blood now gushing from his nose, and threw a punch that landed on Sirius’ cheek. 

“You little fucker-“ Sirius muttered, preparing to hit Regulus only to keel over when the younger Black brother hit him in the stomach.

It was then that Professor McGonagall appeared from around the corner, greeted by the sight of Regulus’ bloodied and bruised face and Sirius still hunched over from the hit to his gut, hair covering the bruise beginning to form on his cheek. She was quick to put herself between the brothers in case another fight started.

“What in Godric’s name is going on here?” She exclaimed, furious. 

After what felt like an hour of being chewed out by Professor McGonagall and losing their respective houses 100 points, they went their separate ways, Sirius going to the Gryffindor common room and Regulus going to the Slytherin common room. 

When Sirius entered the common room, he looked over to the couches where he saw you, Marlene, Lily, Remus, James, and Peter all sitting in silence. You noticed his presence first, jumping up when you saw his face.

“Good Godric, what the hell happened to you?” Your hands instinctively reached towards his face as you stepped towards him.

“Why don’t you fuss over your little boyfriend instead?” Sirius said hostilely, slapping your hand away from his face.

Your hands dropped to your sides, face falling as well.

“You guys fought?” You asked quietly.

Sirius didn’t answer, only turning around and walking up to his dorm, faithfully followed by James, Peter, and Remus. 

You still hadn’t moved, but you could feel your heart beating in your stomach, nauseous at the thought of Sirius and Regulus fighting because of you. Your chest heaved, trying to calm yourself before you ran out of Gryffindor tower, feet carrying you down to the dungeons and to the entrance of the Slytherin common room. You looked around, spotting a first-year in green robes walking past you, running up to him and pleading for the code.

Once you entered the Slytherin common rooms, you ran past the people scattered around the room and went straight up to Regulus’s dorm.

Regulus looked up from where he was sitting on his bed as you entered his dormitory and you couldn’t help the shocked gasp that escaped you when you saw his face. His jaw was bruised a dark purple, the skin around his eye slowly turning a similar shade of violet, blood still dripping from his nose, and more bruises across his body. Those, of course, were only the injuries you could see.

“Oh, Regulus,” You whispered, approaching his bed as he wrapped his arms around your waist, tugging you in between his legs so his head was against your chest and your hands gently combed through his curls. You stayed like that for a while, Regulus listening to the beating of your heart as you stroked his back, not caring about the blood stain that was certainly appearing on your jumper.

“Let’s clean you up, love,” You said, pulling away from the hug. You placed a brief kiss on his lips before entering the bathroom, grabbing and wetting a washcloth for the blood. 

Sitting next to him on his bed, you gently wiped the blood off Regulus’s face, apologizing profusely whenever he winced. The entire time you were cleaning his face off, his eyes were trained on your face, tracing over your features.

“You look really pretty,” Regulus whispered to you, holding back a grin upon seeing you blush and watching a small smile gracing your face.

“Reg, you should be focusing on yourself and not me,” You responded with a breathy laugh.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked, making you pause. 

“I’m not mad at you Regulus,” You answered, cupping his face with your hand and stroking it gently with your thumb. Regulus leaned into your touch, eyes briefly fluttering shut. 

“Alright, don’t fall asleep on me, darling, I still have to check out your bruises,” You said softly, laughing when Regulus groaned, “I promise I’ll let you sleep after.”

You stood up from his bed, a bit reluctantly if you were being honest, and began helping him take off his jumper. Regulus’ light grey jumper, which you had gifted him for Christmas, keeping his neutral-colored closet in mind, was now decorated with droplets of his blood. Once his jumper and undershirt were removed, you let out a sigh. His stomach and chest were littered with bruises, some bigger and darker, others smaller and lighter.

“Damnit, you got beat, huh?” You muttered teasingly, “I’m sorry, Reg.”

“‘S alright, just come lay with me, dove,” Regulus mumbled as he tugged you down onto the bed with him, laying so that you were facing each other.

You tugged the dark green blankets over your bodies, settling back down on the bed, your head right next to his own, his dark curls falling onto the pillow as he turned onto his side to look at you.

“I love you,” You whispered, your nervous eyes looking into his gray ones. You relaxed, though, as you watched his bruised face spread into a smitten smile.

“I love you too,” Regulus whispered back, still grinning.

You lifted your head, just enough to move it an inch from Regulus’s, and pressed your lips against his. The kiss was slow and sweet, your noses gently nudging one another as your lips moved. Your hand gently reaching for his curls to pull him closer as you smiled into the kiss. After Regulus pulled away, he curled his body into yours, his head tucked in the crook of your shoulder, arm draped over your waist, while you let your hands travel along his warm back and through his dark, curly hair. In that position, it didn’t take long for Regulus to fall asleep, with you following soon after.

You and Regulus slept the afternoon away, cuddled together until Evan entered the dorm around 4 o’clock, interrupting your sleep. After the boy mentioned the time, you soon realized you had disappeared from Gryffindor Tower for six hours with no explanation.

“Do you have to go?” Regulus asked, trying to pull you back into bed with him as you sighed deeply.

“Yeah, I do. I’ll see you later, Reg, I love you,” You said, turning to pull him into a kiss.

“I love you too. Don’t let Sirius get to you too much,” Regulus said after pulling away from the kiss, watching in a lovesick daze as you left the room. When he turned to Evan, who was still in the room, he snapped out of it, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“‘I love you too.’ Since when did you start saying I love you and why haven’t I heard about it?” Evan questioned, imitating Regulus’s voice as he plopped down on his bed expectantly.

“You’re such a drama queen,” Regulus joked, earning an eye roll from his friend.

“Don’t you dare call me a drama queen,” Evan said, pointing a finger threateningly at the smirking boy.

When you entered the Gryffindor common room, you were met with the sight of a sulking Sirius holding a towel of ice to his cheek. You both looked at each other, entering a brief staring match before Sirius broke the silence.

“Did you have fun with my little brother?” Sirius asked bitterly, glaring.

“Dear Godric, Sirius, will you stop with that? I was cleaning him up after you almost broke his nose!” You exclaimed, anger rising by the moment.

“Oh, yeah, because wiping some blood off his face takes six hours,” Sirius remarked.

“You know what, Sirius? Fuck you. You went and beat up your own brother because he’s in love with your friend? It’s fucking sad,” You snapped, eyes narrowing on the black-haired boy.

“Oh, so you two are in love now? Regulus doesn’t love people, he’s playing you and you’re too fucking stupid to see it,” Sirius said, standing up so he was in front of you, ice left on the couch.

You said nothing, only letting your hand fly to his already bruised face and slap it, Sirius’ head turning to the side at the force of your hand. Slowly, he turned to face you once more, staring into your eyes.

“Don’t you dare say shit like that again, Sirius Black, or you’ll get a whole lot more than a slap,” You threatened, face hardened in a scowl as you pushed him back and away from you. 

You turned, shouldering past Marlene and Lily, who were standing on the staircase with wide eyes, and stalked up to your dormitory, slamming the wooden door shut behind you. You looked around the room and at the floor by your bed, where your belongings were still scattered and your ink pot was still broken. The dark ink had sunk into the floorboards, staining the wood black.

You began cleaning your part of the dorm, picking everything up by hand despite knowing you could easily use magic, knowing you needed to focus on something or else you would start bawling. The broken pieces of the inkpot, which were still dripping ink, were the last things you picked up off of the floor. A small piece of the glass, so small that you had almost missed it on the wood, sliced through the still-stinging skin of your palm, crimson rising to the surface. You didn’t move, eyes trained on the blood that was dripping from your hand and landing next to the black dots of ink on the floorboards.

You only broke out of your trance when you heard the door to your dorm opening, your roommate, Lana, entering. 

“You alright?” She asked, catching your eyes as you looked up from your hand, which she quickly noticed, “Merlin, what happened? Come on, let’s clean that.”

You dropped the shards of glass, which were now covered in both ink and blood, into the garbage and let Lana lead you into the bathroom to clean your cut. She rinsed your hand off before gently cleaning the cut. When Lana finished cleaning it, she wrapped it and bandaged it before turning to leave.

“Thank you, Lana,” You said gratefully, smiling softly at your roommate as she paused in the doorway.

“Always, it’s what friends are for,” Lana responded, returning your smile.

Lana was on her bed reading a book when you finally left the bathroom to return to cleaning. With your hand now bandaged, you waved your wand and watched the black and red spots disappear off of the mahogany wood.

It was then, as you lay on your bed, that you found yourself wishing your conscience could be wiped clean as easily as the wood was. Every time you shut your eyes, images of Regulus’s body covered in purple and blue marks plagued your mind, alongside the unforgettable sight of Sirius’ bruised face twisted in anger as you slapped him. 

Your eyes flew open, focusing on the ceiling while you tried to blink the images out of your mind. You turned your head to Lana, who was already looking at you with a perplexed gaze.

"Why is he like this? Sirius, I mean. I get that he's mad but, Lana, you should've seen the bruises Regulus had, Sirius hurt him so much," You whispered to your roommate.

“There never really is a good answer in situations like this, just that people get blinded by their anger and do bad things. I’m not excusing Sirius’s actions, Godric no, but he definitely wasn’t thinking straight,” Lana answered tentatively, placing her book on her nightstand.

“I just don’t know what to do now,” You whispered, eyes clouded with tears as you looked away from Lana, “Sirius and Regulus were already on bad enough terms as it was, but now they’re getting in fights and it’s all my fault.”

Lana said nothing, only getting up from her bed and moving to yours, pulling you into a hug. She kept her arms around you as your body shook with sobs, the harsh reality of the situation hitting you like a truck. 

Everything has changed.

So much had happened over the past week- everyone found out you and Regulus were dating, you got banned from seeing him, Sirius ransacked your room and then fought with Regulus, you slapped Sirius, and now you were here. Crying in your roommate’s arms.

“I feel like all I’m doing is hurting people. I hurt Sirius and betrayed his trust. I’m the reason Regulus and Sirius got in that fight. Bloody hell, I slapped Sirius,” You cried, your breath stuttering as you spoke.

“Listen to me, this isn’t all your fault. You aren’t doing this to hurt people. Sometimes, things don’t always go the way they should and that’s just a part of life. Regulus loves you and you love him, it’s only a matter of time before Sirius sees that and he’s just gonna have to learn to accept it,” Lana said firmly, “And he will accept it, trust me. He might be mad now but he’s not going to lose you over this.”

You couldn’t even respond at that point, your body shaking with tears and sobs as Lana hugged you.

[sozila]

convalescence. (sukuna x reader)

synopsis: convalescence noun. time spent recovering from an illness or medical treatment; recuperation. ryomen s. itadori was a disease that infected every part of your life, and you didn’t notice until it was too late.

pairing: best friend's older brother!ryomen s. itadori x pre-med uni student!fem reader.

warnings: attempted sexual assault, violence and blood. explicit content eventually, mdni. mentions of underage drinking and smoking (weed), descriptive sexual activities.

masterlist | previous | next

you are on: incubation. (part two) a/n:

guys.. i am so drained from this one 😭🙏 but i loved writing every bit of it, so i hope you like it! :) wc is triple from the last chapter (6.2k) :0 was posted on ao3 last night but finally got to doing this today <3 also, this chapter has a bit of a side quest with geto 🤭 also also, let me know if you want mini scenes, like what sukuna thought of your outfit at the party, etc ;)

ao3 link here.

incubation. (part two)

it’s been a week since you hung out at yuuji's swanky apartment and the older itadori was a memory of the past. your stressful college regimen waited for no one, especially you.

lectures piled on you once more and material you had to review flowed like an endless river.

you sat at your tiny desk in the bedroom of your quaint flat, deep in focus on a chapter of biology. “.. and that is how you do the cycle!” you mutter to yourself in small victory. you had finished the last page so you stand up and let out a big stretch. you decide to glance at the time on your watch only to realize you should’ve left your place 10 minutes ago for lunch with your friends.

you mentally curse as you haphazardly gather your things. you toddle on one leg and the other to pull up your socks, and obviously you had to mess up tying your shoes when you were already egregiously late. the universe’s timing never failed! you call an uber to the campus as the subway by your house has long left before.

when you finally find the group, they look at you with confused stares.

“is there a marathon i’m not aware of..?” nobara inquires sarcastically, yet weirdly concerned at the way you were heaving for air.

“haah — what do you, you mean? i’m not.. marathon,” you were making some sort of gestures with your hands and your words barely made sense. good lord, girl.

nobara pulls you down to sit in the chair beside her and motions for megumi to hand over his water bottle. “oookay, that’s enough out of you for now. breathe and drink some water, babe. we already got your food, so don’t sweat.”

as your heart rate began to slow, you finally noticed yuuji was actually laughing at you.

“oh my god, you looked like a little red pufferfish!”

you pout at him and let out a whine of disapproval (at least as much as you could with water in your mouth) when you saw megumi making blowfish faces at you. nobara swats at them and chides them accordingly. “take pity on our poor girl, she ran for us!”

suddenly, nobara snaps her fingers and points at yuuji, as if she just recalled something. “ah! yuu, can you finish what you were saying before we got interrupted? about the frat party this weekend? ” nobara looked positively giddy at the chance of getting wasted and you sighed. who knew you’d acquire such friends being the anti-big-sweaty-parties person you were. yuuji immediately flipped modes and began as he does, animated and hyper. you didn’t know how he possessed so much energy. part of you believed he stole that energy from megumi, who looked like every college student ever. “oh yeah! so sukuna…”

you didn’t realize you were zoned out of the conversation until your eyes catch your biology professor, mina kaito, strut by with a small box in her hand. your professor was notoriously hard to get ahold of— every office hours you tried to bring up your internship application, there was already a line of students following out the office. your university was prestigious and to land a one-on-one with any professor here was a miracle. you knew you were one of the best candidates for professor kaito’s research and had to secure this spot— even if it mean embarrassing yourself just a tad. you immediately jump up. “wha— girl, you just got here?” nobara looked at you, puzzled. “no time to explain- kaito’s here. i’ll be only 5 minutes!” you yell to her as you speedwalk to catch up with the nimble lady.

“professor kaito!” you call after her with a small wave, and the woman whips around with a disinterested air about her face.

“you have 2 minutes, it’s my lunch break.” she quips, resuming her walk down the hall. you take a couple strides to catch up to her and give her a small smile. “so, i wanted to inquire about the molecular biology research you’re doing…”

a small squeal leaves your mouth as soon as you exit the office. kaito had accepted your pitch to intern her research on your subject of interest. this was the biggest thing you could’ve ever imagine landing, and you did it in 15 minutes! (kaito let you speak more as soon as she recognized you meant business.)

you all but skip back to the cafeteria, where your friends still resided. a huge smile plastered your face, you couldn’t contain it any longer. nobara saw you approach the table and she instantly understood what this meant. “you got it? oh my god- she got it!” she jumps up in a flash and squeals with you, hugging and jumping as you were. yuuji gave a little cheer and ruffled your hair, which you were too happy to protest. after a moment of drawing attention to yourselves, you all finally sit down. megumi wasn’t big about gestures, so when he tapped you and gave two thumbs up with a wink to boot — you felt honored to be blessed with such a rarity. you tearfully make a heart sign with your hands to him back.

“there is no way we’re not celebrating,” nobara looks at you with a determined expression. “we’re going to the frat party this weekend, and you can’t say no!” she throws her hands up in glee and bumps you with her hip, both her and yuuji doing a little victory dance in their seats. you almost perk up with your usual response and yuuji instantly shushes you with his finger. “speak not, young padawan. to the party you shall go,” the mock solemnity paired with the swishes of his invisible lightsaber cracked you up. you sigh and throw your hands up. “alright, i’ll go,” you accept with a grin. immediately the cheers and dancing from yuuji and nobara return, and you could bet everyone in the cafeteria wanted you all to shut up or leave.

sukuna didn’t really care for girls. that’s not to be confused with fucking— he definitely fucked girls, but none really made him stop and think about who they were and what they did. truth is, he had a system. due to the fact sukuna had a long list of interactions with girls, he found it fun to compartmentalize. he took in what they wore, how they leaned towards him, the way they primmed themselves raw to appease him in a twisted, faux way. he didn’t want that. see, he had reason to believe all the girls that were interested in him held a vested interest— whether it was his money or his body, all of them came to him with some sort of ulterior motive. the persona they craved was just a fraction of the truth in his existence. ergo, sukuna didn’t really care for girls because they didn’t care for him.

so imagine sukuna’s intrigue when he meets yuuji’s little friend, the one he’s heard of but never saw- unlike the urchin kid and the loud redhead. you were an unknown to him. the outlying variable in the way you stiffened in his presence, almost begging with your eyes to be gone from his stare. you tried to be subtle, he noted this. however, despite your evident body language, your crass words painted a different picture. a self assured, independent girl who found him annoying and wasn’t afraid to tell it to his face. it was a little predatory in the way he savored how he made you agitated. he wasn’t a gentleman, but he would never touch a girl that didn’t want it. that never came to be a problem- most women initiated first touch with him, and then more.

you pushed him aside on first thought.

sukuna let you.

the first touch you initiated with sukuna was to be rid of him. you intrigued sukuna and all you did was go about your day.

he had come down that night to catch a glimpse of you again; he wanted to observe you. sukuna noted a new aspect: your softness. his eyes trailed as you worked quietly to make sure your friends were taken care of, not missing the gentleness you mustered to keep quiet in the process. the angry girl he met three hours ago was long gone. sukuna noticed the red sparkly phone strewn on the rug when you had begun your search, and slinked to pick it up before you could see. granted, his approach was demented— he just had to speak to you more. unfortunately, his desire to tease you rings louder than the one to actually converse and your quick escape meant you were back to a label of the unknown, yuuji’s little friend.

the week flew by for sukuna similarly— as a senior in mechanical engineering his workload wasn’t very light either. he juggled working hours at his grandfather’s auto shop as a mechanic and college as much as he could. he would never admit it out loud, but slipping the extra bills into yuuji’s wallet let him rest a little easier at night. he would count fraternity duties as a part of his responsibilities on paper, but realistically he did nothing in that organization but funnel in family money. it’s what let him keep the arm and body tattoos. he wanted to get some face ones done as well, but he was beaten to a pulp by his grandfather before he could even begin to form the thought. fuck it, he’ll get them when he graduates. who did sukuna have to impress? in the downtime he got, he worked on his bike in the frat garage and rode it for hours in the depth of the night. riding helped his insomnia, something he struggled with since a young age. he’d be damned before he opened that side of memories, so riding it was.

and so sukuna is here a week later, just as you were, sat on the second floor lounge of the cafeteria ironically in perfect view to witness your dramatic entrance. how silly, your face was puffy and red. a cute sight. the ribbons in your braids caught the sunlight from the big window panes.

“kunaaa, you’re not paying attention!” a certain white-haired man made sukuna’s eyes roll. the way he whined was more in the likes of a three year old. “gojo, when did i ever give a fuck about what you have to say?” he deadpans. gojo satoru was definitely a character, and proclaimed himself a best friend to sukuna much to his distaste. “you’re so mean! all i needed to ask was if you got the shit for saturday,” he pouts and cross his arms, slouching in his chair.

“sit up, dumbass, you’re going to get a double chin.” a tall brown haired woman taps gojo on the head with the iced coffee she held, taking a seat beside him. gojo gasps and sits up, immediately going on about how he couldn’t lose his devilishly handsome stature. in tow with her was his more preferred frat brother, geto suguru sporting a cup of his own and another which he hands to sukuna. “you gonna stay around on saturday? me and shoko got a quarter to smoke,” he tells him, sipping on the straw of his coffee. sukuna looks back down to the first floor to you and sanguine eyes catch you running off, ribbons bouncing. this was getting stupid. he needed a good distraction, so fuck it. “yeah, sure. i’ll hit a few.” geto nods in acknowledgment. someone like you wouldn’t go to a sleazy frat party.

“shokooo, will you paint my beer cooler? you’re our little frat sweetheart,” gojo pleads with the woman and sukuna amusingly watches her eye twitch with vague rage. “ask utahime to do it. and call me frat sweetheart again, see what happens,” she smiles darkly. the man chuckles nervously and swats her arm in mock sadness. “getooo, shoko’s threatening my life!” “maybe listen to her, satoru.”

the rest of the week was fairly uneventful, thankfully easy with your new opportunity in tow motivating you to finish off string. the sun crimson, it was 6pm when you hear nobara knock on your apartment door. you open to see her carrying two bag hangers of clothes and her clunky makeup bag, making you pale. “nobs… what’s this?” you ask, slightly frightened. she simply throws a sly smile and enters your apartment, unpacking everything. “oh nothing, just a super sexy outfit and the tools to make you even more of a bombshell,” she dismissively states. you groan internally. you were a fool to think nobara’s antics stopped at you accepting to attend.

3 hours fly by and you were completely dolled up, alongside nobara. your hair was adorned with a classic ribbon, which you plead to keep. nobara only allowed it because it matched the outfit she had you wear, which you didn’t feel awkward in. she knew how to optimize your current style to be more bold.

during the time the makeover occurred, megumi had drove up with yuuji and were waiting in your tiny living room, probably playing your wii mario kart. nobara texts maki a picture of you and she immediately hit her with a reply.

“sexy fox!!!”

when you step out of the bathroom, yuuji let out a slow whistle. “you are looking like one hot mama!” megumi immediately wrinkles his nose. “please never say that again..” he turns to you and gives a small nod. good enough for you. you giggle and pinch yuuji’s cheek. “i appreciate it regardless, yuu.” you thank him with a hug. “but! let’s go before nobara decides to change her eyeshadow again,” you whisper to the two boys and they nod courtly; they were well versed and knew the horrors.

megumi pulls up to the side of the street and puts his lexus in park. you and nobara walk out of the back, and immediately the chilly air hits you. damn this outfit for being so thin.

your eyes fall on the big building and instantly the color drains from your face. the big greek letters on the wall of the portico were none other than sukuna’s fraternity. how did you miss this? why didn’t it come in conversation that the party would be here ? you try racking your memory when it dawns. you had zoned out when yuuji started explaining the details of the party. there wasn’t much you could do, you were already here and your friends were excited to let loose. you just had to make sure you didn’t run into him.. hopefully.

nobara comes around behind you and links an arm with you and pulls you out of your thoughts and drags you faster in pace. “c’mon girl, time’s a-wasting!” yuuji and megumi walk close behind you. yeah, it’ll be fine! you had them. as soon as you went inside, the smell of beer and sweat hit your nose. loud beats pumped through the walls that you had heard faintly from the outside, but didn’t compare to the volume inside. you felt a little weird yet confident when you turned a few heads, some guys eyeing you down with smiles. nobara caught wind and wiggled her eyebrows at you suggestively, which you scoffed at. you could barely hear nobara tell you she had spotted maki and was making her way to meet her— you only understood when you saw maki wave at you. yuuji and megumi motion they’re going to get drinks and be right back, which ironically left you alone.

you walk towards the area where the music wasn’t as loud, which was the back of the house. stepping closer, you behold big glass sliding doors and recognize it’s the back porch, in view of a color-lighted pool. before you can compute the people at the porch, sanguine eyes meet yours and your heart stops. sukuna was leaned on a porch chair, a thin blunt rest between his lips. he looked.. different. i mean, you only saw him in a tank and shorts, but this was like witnessing a new side of him. the only constant was the silver chain on his neck.

you couldn’t discern what kind of look he was giving you, but it was making your skin flame and the previously thin-seeming outfit now felt suffocating and hot on your body. something about his gaze felt like a violation of your privacy. without looking away from you, he exhales, mouth and nose, handing the blunt to a tall brown haired woman in an all black tiny dress. she seemed out of place with the seemingly thug-like frat men around her, sukuna included.

you back away from the glass panes and decide to find yuuji and megumi to escape this weird tension you just found yourself in. you spot a tall man with a black haired up-down smiled at you warmly and you nod kindly in response. he walks to you and leans down to your ear to speak. “are you yuuji’s friend?” you nod. thankfully, the new song was relatively more quiet and you could a hear lot better. “i’m suguru, by the way,” he says with a small smile. you give him yours. “pretty name for a pretty girl,” he drawls. “you like red?” his hand flicks the ribbon in your hair. you roll your eyes. “it matched the outfit,” you defend lightly. he gasps mockingly. “wow, i just noticed! red top, red bag, how cute! little red riding hood, you are,” he teases. “i bet your phone case is red too.” you shake your head and deny over-dramatically. “cmon, let’s see it!” he prods playfully. you sigh and show him the sparkly red phone in defeat. “you caught me. i’m secretly a red fiend. the second carmen sandiego, even.” he laughs heartily and tilts his head at you, pausing for a moment. “you looked a little lost, y’know. that’s not safe at a frat party,” he chuckles. “i was just looking for the drinks. do you know where they are?” he nods and puts a hand on your arm to spin you in the direction to it. “it’s the kitchen, just down this way and on your left. just weave the crowd,” he advises. you scan and see a light from a different room in the direction, which could mean the kitchen suguru meant. you look up and grin kindly. “thanks, suguru.” “don’t mention it, pretty girl.” he seemed like a cool person.. even a little hot, you had to admit.

you begin weaving people, trying not to bump into someone or step in mystery liquid but these boots were starting to be harder to get a grip in. a girl dancing pushes you slightly and you lose your balance a little, causing you to lose footing. before you know it, you stumble into a guy and you hear him drop his drink.

“what the— HEY! watch where you’re going, b-“

the blue haired man turns around and sees your doe eyed face and goes a little stupid.

you were already apologizing profusely. “oh my god, i’m so sorry, someone bumped into me, i can-“ “no worries, doll. you’re getting all riled up over nothin’,”

his smile felt sleazy and his eyes rake over your body violently.

“do i know you? you from a soror?” you didn’t like this exchange any longer and wanted to leave, now.

“actually, my friends are waiting for me, so i’ll just-“

“aw, what’s the rush, baby? you don’t wanna get to know me?”

his hand quickly snakes around your waist and you feel him grope you and you push him off of you and yell.

“what the fuck!” a hand pulls the man back and you were relieved to see it was megumi. “if you look at her again, i’ll fucking kill you.” he states coldly. the blue haired man scoffs and throws his hands up in surrender.

“it’s not that deep, man, she was just talking to me,” “yeah yeah, save it asshole. let’s go,” megumi wraps a protective arm around you and weaves you to the kitchen quickly.

he looks at you with a face of worry. “i’m so sorry we took long, yuuji ended up doing beer pong and he’s super wasted. did he do anything to you?” you wave your hands and shake your head, trying not to burden your friend. “he just grabbed me, but i pushed him off, i’m okay! i swear.” he eyes you, concerned. you did tend to downplay your own well-being and health, even to your detriment. before he could say anything else, you hear a drunk yuuji hoot loudly. “loooook gumi, i gots a ‘nother beeeeeer!” megumi immediately groans and goes to yank the drink out of his hand. yuuji somehow sees you in his drunken haze. “ohhhhh, look who it isssss! prettiest hot mama, my best frienddddd!” he makes grabby hands for you, but before you can reach him, he passes out and almost hits his head on the marble counter— fortunately megumi’s reflexes catches it before it happens. “i swear, yuuji knows he’s a lightweight but drinks like it’s juice,” he grimaces. you look at yuuji and sigh. so much for a party animal.

suddenly, you start hearing screams and yelling from the living room area. an image of nobara flashes before your mind and you immediately follow the sounds to make sure she wasn’t in danger— only to find the man who just sexually assaulted you getting pounded into the ground by sukuna. no one was able to break the violent trace he was in, the punches hitting constantly one after the other. the sound was so visceral you gasp, swearing you heard a crunch.

you see suguru push through the crowd and pull sukuna off of the man, whispering something angrily into sukuna’s ear. sukuna reluctantly stops. so suguru knows sukuna..?

an angry looking man with green hair is cursing at sukuna. “fuck off, man! we’re brotherhood, is this how you’re gonna treat us?” a woman with braided blue hair drops to the man and screams. “mahito, oh my godddd! are you okay baby!”

“get off me, bitch! ugh- you crazy motherfucker! that whore isn’t even yours, why’d you care?”

the blue haired man yells at sukuna, clutching his bloodied nose. you couldn’t even tell if the blood was from his face or his nose. sukuna almost lunges back onto him hearing what he said but a white haired man with sunglasses also intervened like suguru and pulls him back.

you didn’t realize your hand flew to your mouth in pure fear. they were all frat brothers here, and something about it all made your head spin. you wanted out, now. the stuffy heat of the house was making you dizzy.

you refuse to make eye contact with sukuna and you instead set out to find nobara. you scan all the rooms and end up finding them in the garage of the frat house. like yuuji, nobara was also trashed beyond belief and draped over her girlfriend, babbling and giggling. maki looks at you with a small apologetic smile. “i think i’m just gonna take her home, if that’s okay.” you nod and smile faintly. “i have to get this one in the car, too,” you hear over your shoulder. megumi is walking down with a passed out yuuji slumped on him in a piggyback position. all your friends were preoccupied with taking care of the drunk ones, you couldn’t bother them with taking you home too. that would be rude of you, right? you hated the thought of being a burden to the people you cared about, especially when they have more things to deal with. it’s fine anyways, you had a solution. “megs, i’ll just call an uber, ‘kay?” his face drops in a frown and he objects. “no! i can take you too, don’t worry. i just need to keep yuuji at bay, so—“

“i’ll take her.”

you trace a gruff voice above you and discern sukuna is standing directly behind you, completely unfazed with what he just committed mere moments ago. the audacity of this man! “i’d rather die than have you take me home,” you spat angrily. he sighs like explaining this to you was a inconvenience to him. “it’s a 3am uber or me. your choice.”

a drunk yuuji stirs and he starts squirming and nearly makes megumi topple over. maki looks at the entirety of you and narrows her eyes. “darling, go with sukuna. i’ll make sure you get home safe, okay?” she tells you softly. her eyes flick over to sukuna and her gaze hardens. “if even a hair on her pretty head is missing, i’ll hunt you down myself.” sukuna holds up two fingers and whistles. “scout’s honor, ma’am.” she nods curtly, picking up her messy girlfriend. she looks at you for a moment more. “text me when you’re home, okay? love you.” you assent, mirroring her bye. megumi frowns a little but gives sukuna a similar tight stare, a more silent exchange between the two occurring. he says his byes to you as well.

the unperturbed man gives you a wry smile, like the ones you’ve given him in prior. “shall we leave then?” you scoff and cross your arms over your chest. this was starting to feel like a mistake and you should’ve just taken your chances with the late night uber.

sukuna leads you further into the garage, behind all the expensive jeeps and roll royces. “what kind of car do you drive, exactly?..” you mutter quietly. sukuna heard anyways and exults a chuckle. “not really a car, i think.”

he comes to a stop at a sleek black motorcycle, which you look at in shock and awe. your jaw drops.

“hell no. absolutely the fuck not.”

“i can still call the uber then…?”

“just hand me the fucking helmet bitch.”

he cracks open the seat to pull out another helmet and hands it to you. you snap it on carefully, not trying to catch your hair or your ribbon. you look at the vehicle and the thoughts start rolling. this was literally a death machine. he wanted you to ride this speed demon that he controls. this was beyond insanity, you never do things like this! but.. what else could you do?

sukuna had already strapped himself in the helmet, hopping onto the bike. he holds out a hand palm up to you. “are you gonna get on, or you gonna keep the fish out of water miming going?” he deadpans. you begrudgingly throw a leg over, letting him help you on behind him. he turns a key and the engine roars to life, the growl of the vehicle echoing in the open garage.

you think back to the moment you and sukuna locked eyes prior and remembered he was smoking weed. “are you sure you’re sober? you smoked a blunt earlier,” your voice was a little high strung, but sukuna just laughs. he looks over his shoulder at you, smirking. “if you think 2 hits on a blunt is enough to get me faded, you’re an idiot.” you smack his back. “stop calling me that!” he simply laughs at you, as always, and starts rolling the bike out of the garage.

“all you need to do is keep your feet in, press your thighs together, and wrap your arms around my waist.”

“wait, what? run that last one back?”

“do you wanna fly off and eat concrete?”

“…no.”

“then do it.”

your hands slowly circle his hard waist and awkwardly hover, weirdly shy about touching him like this.

“woman, if you don’t put your arms around me normally, i will make you.”

you try to argue that this was a perfectly acceptable middle ground but before you can finish, his rough hand yanks your arms to his stomach like it was nothing. you yelp and your helmet bangs into his back at the sheer force. your face flames at the fact your palms were in direct contact with his rock-hard abs, which felt absolutely unreal.

“you could’ve been nicer about that.”

“nothing nice about safety.”

without a warning, he accelerates the bike and you’re off, enlisting another yelp from you. your arms tightened around him, which he grins to himself about. the first few minutes of riding go by with you koala gripped on his waist, not even daring to move your head from the moment he had started. sukuna looks at you in his rear view mirror with a sly grin. “you know nothing will happen if you relax your head, right?” he yells over the wind resistance blowing around the bike. you clearly didn’t even notice that you were so stiff and straighten, looking at him with a displeased frown. “yeah i know, you didn’t have to tell me,” you rebut.

he shakes his head at you and the road looks to merge on the bridge. now open to the sky without the tall building blocking it, you are immediately entranced by how the water shimmers with the moonlight, and the stars were extremely visible tonight. your eyes light up with the simple joy you found in this, just admiring nature. unbeknownst to you, sukuna snuck glances of you in this state and almost wished he could take a picture and capture this for himself later.

faster than you anticipated, sukuna was pulling into the street with your apartment. he came to a slow in front of your building and turned on the ignition, hopping off to help you get down.

you notice his bloody knuckles and let out a little gasp. you’re telling me he was just driving like this, cut up and all? what is this guy on? you can’t leave him like this, he drove you all the way out here.. ugh, damn my guilty conscience! let me be evil for once!

“what?” sukuna gives you a dubious look.

“you’re bleeding,” you deadpan.

he looks at his hands, flipping them over. he seems surprised something was even there. it gave the impression sukuna’s been in brutal fights like that routinely.

“aw what, this? it’ll be fine.”he replied with a shrug. you narrow your eyes at him.

“i’m cleaning those and bandaging you. i don’t want your ass blaming me for tetanus or something.” you throw at him.

sukuna looked down at you and chuckled, and you almost think you saw a genuine smile. you couldn’t tell for sure because it disappeared as soon as it came, replaced with the same annoying smirk he carried.

“alright, then. lead the way, sweetheart.”

your heart is pounding as you walk up the open metal stairway, gigantic tattooed man in tow. how you got here is still unresolved logic in your mind but you’re too tired to fight it. keys jiggle to unlock the small apartment, which felt even more smaller when sukuna stepped inside. it was like a bull in a china shop.

“um.. you can hang your jacket and helmet, if you want,” you point to the small funky coat rack nestled in the corner of the entryway. he nods awkwardly and removes them, along with his shoes. “i’ll be right back, im just getting the medical kit.”

you quickly run into your bathroom and open your mirror cabinet, fishing for rubbing alcohol and some bandaids. to your horror, the only bandaids you had were pink and hello kitty-themed. you imagined the big scary man with pinked up knuckles and giggle. serves him right, you thought.

you walk back in to see sukuna staring at a picture on your mantle of you, yuuji, nobara and megumi. you clear your throat and gesture for him to sit on the couch. he obeys accordingly, nonverbal. you kneel in front of him and you see sukuna look away from you in the corner of your eye. you pull his hands forward and begin dabbing the cuts, and he winces. you give him a questioning smile.

“what, i thought you had a high pain tolerance?”

“high pain tolerance doesn’t include this rubbing alcohol masochism.”

you let out a giggle at the dry joke before you can think to stop.

“what, you find my suffering funny? i punched that douche for you and this is what i get in return..” he grumbled, eyebrows furrowing.

you didn’t really connect the dots in the moment that sukuna was in fact, beating up the guy that sleazed on you. you felt.. something. you didn’t want to give any other name to it besides gratitude.

“ah.. thank you. genuinely.”

his eyes lower to meet your sincere ones and the ice on his resolve melts further. “it.. it was nothing. assholes deserve to get their shit rocked. and mahito’s been asking for an ass-whooping for a hot minute,” he rants. his openness catches you by surprise, but you let him speak away as you clean and bandage him up.

“—and every time they ask, i tell the boys to start listening to cues with women, but the stupid motherfuckers just don’t get it. uh— is there.. is there somethin’ on my face?”

sukuna’s monologue abruptly comes to a halt when he watches you observe him closely. your doe eyes were pooling into his, and he felt like you were perceiving his soul.

“your eyes are sanguine red. did you know that?”

your voice was barely above a whisper, the apartment silent. the same moonlight spilled into your living room and on you and god, he swore you were angelic. his eyes lowered down at your lips, his head moving close—

your phone’s ringtone makes the both of you jump backwards and you scramble to look at the caller id. “father”. you take a deep breath and gesture sukuna to stay quiet. he nods and looks away, trying to resemble some form of privacy for you. you pick up.

“dad, it’s super later at night, is everything okay?” a gruff raspy voice crackles back. “you did not update me or your mother about your new opportunity. i was going to give you until sunday to bring it up yourself, but i grew impatient with your laziness.”

your heart sinks a little. even with the knowledge that you scored a near-impossible internship.. your father had other things to say to you. “choujo. you need to be proactive in everything you do. if you cannot handle sharing important information, how can you even do a simple job! i don’t understand what they teach you at that university.. just a waste, seriously. do better.”

the line cuts before you could say anything back. the apartment fills with a more pained silence this time. you don’t want to look at sukuna, you already felt like disappearing into thin air, the gloom making tears well in your eyes.

“…don’t listen to him.”

you look up to soak the tears back in a little before you meet his gaze timidly.

“what do you mean?”

sukuna takes a moment to really look at you before he sighs, pushing off of his knees to walk towards the coat rack.

“you work hard? that’s all that matters. don’t listen to the noise assholes wanna make,” he states firmly, unhooking his leather jacket and biker helmet.

you frown at his use of words towards your father, whom you still respected despite his harsh treatment of you. “ah.. thanks, sukuna.”

he puts the jacket on in one swift gesture, giving you a slow grin. “nah. it’s just common sense, something an idiot like you wouldn’t know.”

your jaw ticks and you immediately start pushing him out the door. “aaaand that’s enough of you for tonight! good riddance,” you snap in annoyance, feeling him shake with the snickers he was suppressing. you give him a dry smile and slam the door in his face.

sukuna stands at the door for a moment, making sure he hears you walk away.

“goodnight, sweetheart.”

a soft bid to you, the sound in the night air washing away with the clunks of his shoes on metal steps.

the man reaches in his pockets to fish out his keys and is met with a paper-like material. pulling it out, he recognizes the design to be the same as the bandaids adorning his hands now. a sticky note attached with neat handwriting read,

“for my phone. asshole”

sukuna smiles to himself, shaking his head. you were extremely hotheaded, that was a given — but the fact you held kindness in a small gesture and chose to downplay it made him wonder what it would be like to actually be admired by you.

definitely more pink bandaids.

but he knew better than to poke around his little brother’s friend.. or so he convinced himself he believed. he quickly tucks them back into his pocket, starting his motorcycle to ride back home with only one thing on his mind… you.

next chapter might take a while because i rushed this one out, but don’t fret! i won’t leave it for more than a couple days :)

peace luv bathtub!!!

© sozila 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other mediums or sites. cross-posted on ao3 and tumblr under same alias.

[sorryimdyingrn]

SCAREDY CAT (Severus Snape x FEM! Reader)

Summary: Y/N, Snape's assistant in class is easily scared and tends to overreact when someone creeps up onto her. What's going to happen when Snape decides to do so?

Warnings: Smut, improper use of the Incarcerous spell, Sub Snape, Dom Reader, handjobs, FEM! Reader, idk what else to put there, Idk probably incoherent English in some places.

Oh man I really am doing that. For the last few months I have been bringing myself to this moment trying to put some words together but this is the first time I'm actually succeeding in doing so! I hope you won't cringe to death and excuse my poor English as it's not my first language ❤️

A normal work day. Nothing out of ordinary and nothing signaling the things that were about to happen. The students were acting like students, other Professors doing their job sometimes stopping in their busy tracks to say Good morning and Snape shooting her those weird looks. They weren't hate by any means. They were more like... Fondness??? Who knows. No one really saw Snape looking at someone with fondness so no one could tell.

Y/N calmly stood by one of many desks in classroom, cutting up some Boomslang's skin to fill up a jar in Snape's storage after someone stole it. The swift movements of her wand made a quiet swish, leaving the ingredient cut into perfect strips easily fitting into the jar.

The scene was peaceful, no one to interrupt, no one to say anything and definitely no one to look at the way her hands moved like Snape liked to do while she was doing her job.

Severus Snape... Y/N's thoughts drifted to the dark and broody Potions Master. His cold aura was intimidating and she couldn't lie - if definitely turned her on a bit. Sometimes she liked to imagine how his elegant hands would feel like against her skin, his lips against hers, his dick in her hands as he looked up at her with pleasures in his eyes and him whimpering out her name with-

Y/N shook her head to get rid of the dirty thoughts clouding her mind. The last thing she needed was being horny and distracted right now. She sighed softly and went back to her work.

Snape stood silently in the doorframe, looking at his assistant with a softer gaze. As much as he would rather gnaw his own leg off than admit this, he liked her. He liked her a lot. Her happily glimmering eyes, her soft smile, her figure that he wished to see without clothes... And her voice... Oh her sweet voice that he imagined every night moaning his name and telling him how good he was for her when he palmed his painfully hard erection through his trousers crying out loudly...

An idea popped into his head. A devilish and seemingly at the moment perfect idea. It wasn't unknown that Y/N had a tendency of getting scared at the slightest things and her reactions were quite entertaining. A slight, almost unnoticeable smirk pulled at his lips as he silently closed the door and creeped up behind her. She still stood there unaware of what was about to happen. So happy... So innocent...

Snape raised up his hand slowly and gave her a gentle jab to her side.

Y/N jumped up with a loud shriek.

"SON OF A BITC-"

Without looking at her attacker, she swished her wand aggressively in the air. A black rope shooting out of the air tying Snape up in a rather questionable position, his hand flying out of his sleeve, now laying around a meter away from him. He was on his knees, his hands tied back to his ankles tightly, not allowing him to get up. Well that wasn't the outcome he expected.

Y/N looked down at him annoyed, right now not caring about the situation he was in.

"Not cool man. Not cool. You know I have a weak heart." She said while shaking her head disappointed.

The way she looked down at him sternly... Fuck, the way she stood over him in such a towering and dominating manner while he was on the floor kneeling... Snape shouldn't be enjoying this as much as he did...

He sighed defeated, trying to get rid of the inappropriate thoughts clouding his mind. Why was he into this?

"Yes, yes. That was uncalled for I know." He admitted his fault, shifting slightly with annoyance. "Can you let me go now? It's rather provocative position I'm in." He looked up at her, trying to look stern and cold the best he could.

She just then noticed his position, her eyes taking in his rather embarrassing state. Her finger went up to her chin in a thinking manner.

"Hmmm... No." Y/N replied bluntly and walked up to the door to lock it. "You scared me without thinking about the consequences of your actions, now you have to be punished."

The last sentence made Snape's mind fill up with very VERY inappropriate things. His position, her stern demeanor, locked doors, her talking about a punishment... It all made his thoughts go to a very dirty place, sending a jolt to his already hardening length.

He had to suppress a whimper when he saw her walking back up to the desk to resume her work. His face was on the perfect height to see her ass and thighs in the complete display. The sight making his cock twitch in the confines of his pants that felt wayyyy to tight right now. His eyes were glued to her backside with a needy look. Oh what he would give to touch her beautiful curve right now...

"Please..." He muttered under his breath, knowing that if he would say it louder, his voice would sound desperate and whiny.

Y/N sighed annoyed, her back still turned to him as she moved to bottling other ingredients.

"Can't hear ya. Speak louder if you want me to actually listen." She replied, still not happy about his little prank.

The feeling of his erection was now becoming slightly painful. He felt a bead of precum dampening the material of his boxers. His breath was heavy as he futily tried to control his arousal.

"Please Y/N..." Snape spoke up louder, his voice came out as a high whimper (just like he expected)

Feeling a rush of arousal through her core, Y/N turned around quickly to look down at him. She noticed his dick straining against his pants and her eyes widened.

His face grew panicked and lustful as he noticed her staring at the tent in his pants *Shit... She'll think that I'm a creep! She'll be disgusted by me and I will never-*

His train of thoughts was stopped as he loudly cried out involuntarily. She gently pressed her shoe to his cock, massaging it lightly

"Aaah! Please!" his head rolled back and hips bucked up to the contact, relishing in even the slightest touch to relieve his hard-on.

Y/N smirked and crouched down to his level. She grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking it slightly so she could see his flushed face.

"You're enjoying this? You enjoy being tied down and being punished like this?" her voice was amused and lustful as she took in Snape's heavy breathing.

Snape nodded his head eagerly, as much as her hold on his hair allowed.

"Mhm! Yes! Yes please I need- AH! MMMHH~

Y/N cut him off as she started to firmly palm his cock through the material. His hips were bucking up to the contact. Whines and moans were falling out of his open lips as he withered slightly under her touch, ropes restraining his movements a lot.

That moment was better than the things he imagined. How could he go go back to his own hand after feeling this? After feeling her?

She ran her thumb over his clothed tip, earning a shudder and a gasp from him.

"Fuck... You're sublime like this Severus... Those sounds you make are like heaven itself..." She whispered into his ear, leaving a kiss right under it.

He whimpered pathetically in response.

"Stop... Stop teasing..."

Y/N obliged immediately, almost attacking the zipper of his pants. After almost ripping his pants open she took his length out.

Snape hissed at the cold dungeon air against his sensitive dick. It was standing rigidly up, the tip already flushed red and leaking precum steadily.

Without hesitation Y/N took his length into her tight fist, waking him, hard.

Snape tried biting back the whines and moans of pleasure, failing miserably. He was writhing and bucking his hips up desperately, seeking more friction.

The sight was incredible. His cold and stern expression contorted into a face of pure pleasure. His mouth was open, gasping loudly and his eyes were rolling into the back of his skull with tears almost tricking down his cheeks.

"Please! Please Y/N I'm so sensitiv- Ahh~"

His orgasm was approaching quickly. His cock started twitching and his moans gained in volume. If she didn't stop he would-

"Are you going to cum? Are going to make a mess for me?" Y/N whispered into his ear before attacking his neck with kisses and gentle bites.

The only thing Snape could do was whine loudly and nod eagerly. His thighs started trembling, the uncomfortable coldness of stone floor long forgotten.

"Fuck... Come for me Severus... Come and look into my eyes... I want your fave to be engraved into my memory... I want to remember every single sound you let out as I make a fucking mess out of you..."

The pure filth that left her mouth spurred him on even more. She was still holding his hair tightly, her eyes now glued to his face.

Before he could warn her, the white hot pleasure took over his body with strings of his seed shooting over her hand and their clothes. He cried her name out and arched his back almost into a 90° angle (he might be almost 40 but that flexibility is still on POINT✨).

His head fell forward onto her shoulder as he panted loudly, trying to calm himself down.

With a swish of Y/N's wand, they bother were cleaned up as she tucked his softening length back into his pants almost lovingly. The hand gripping his raven locks now eased up and was gently running through his hair in a soothing manner.

"You can scare me every day if that's how it's going to end up every time" Y/N chuckled, getting rid of the binds on his body.

Snape only could quietly groan tired in response.

Hi! I have a feeling that was one of the most pathetic smuts that exist on this platform, although it just might be my opinion because I wrote it. If you have any feedback or tips then I'm more than happy to hear about them! I once again apologize for incoherent English. I hope that it's not actually as bad as it's in my eyes and that someone might actually enjoy this!

Now goodnight ❤️