#One Kiss and A Quidditch Match

[mosquego359]

𖤐One Kiss and A Quidditch Match — Chapter 6: A Quidditch Rivalry𖤐

Prologue (recommended to read)

Chapter 5 (previous)

Pair: Cedric Diggory x Male Slytherin Reader

Word count: 2.7K words

Summary of the book: You and Cedric Diggory hate each other. It has always been this way. But everything changes one night when you kiss each other at a party. Now, it seems you can’t escape each other — from being partnered up in Herbology for an important project to having to help Cedric during the Triwizard Tournament.

Summary of the chapter: Professor Sprout requests that you help Cedric out and befriend him. You meet him in the library and things don't go as planned

Notes: Please comment anything I should change to improve this. Also, I am not British so I am not 100% sure how to correctly write people from the UK.

Content warning: A lot of curing.

!PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE WITHOUT PERMISSION OR CREDITS TO ME!

...

“No.”

Professor Sprout sputtered, “Mr. (Surname)—”

“I said no,” you spat, despite how disrespectful that was, “I don’t want to be associated with him anymore! I know I agreed to partnering with him for Herbology, but look how well that went. I’m sorry but you’re quite mistaken if you believe we ever got along.” And with that, you turned on your heel and walked off

“Mr. (Surname)! Please calm down and listen,” she said, running after you. For a teacher, she didn’t have much authority, “I care about my students-”

“No you don’t. You only care about the Hufflepuffs and those who take interest in herbology. But not me. Why would you? I’m just this silly little Slytherin who loathes your beloved Cedric Diggory.”

“Of course I care about you!” Professor Sprout said, “I hold all of the students close to my heart whether you know it or not.”

You stop and swivel around to face her, “Then why do you want me to spend time helping the person I despise most in the school? If you really wanted the “best for us”, you wouldn’t want us clashing again.”

A short silence passed between the two of you. The stout woman sighed, “Sometimes, what’s best for someone isn’t evident.”

“What do you mean?” You huffed, your confusion and irritation obvious.

“We can’t have the top students in Year 6 constantly butting heads. It’s not even friendly competition; both you and Mr. Diggory are constantly at each other's throats, whether it’s helpful to the situation at hand or whether it bothers everyone!” She explained, “And now that you are 6th Years, you hold so much more influence over your houses. Every corner I turn, it seems that no one gets along if they’re from different houses!”

You frown, perplexed at what she was talking about. Maybe it was because you stuck close to your group and didn’t bother venturing to make new friends, but you’d never seen any conflict between Slytherins and Hufflepuffs. 

“I’m not actually aware of this, Professor.”

“Of course you’re not! You’re so engrossed in your rivalry with Cedric that you don’t notice how the problem’s spreading around campus,” Professor Sprout attempted to keep her voice soft as usual but it held a twinge of annoyance, “Now it’s time to grow up and forgive each other.”

You looked away, a bit irritated yet understanding where she came from. “Apologies, but I don’t like him enough to try and solve whatever’s going on. And, anyways, it’s been going on for a while, so it's kind of hard to forgive.”

“Well, do you even know how this whole deal started?” She asked.

The question made you pause, attempting to recall what caused you to hate him. You racked through your brain to find the root of the problem or even an interaction between the two of you before the start of your rivalry but your mind was blank. 

“I-I don’t know, Professor, it just seemed to always be that way.” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“You don’t even know the root of your problem and look at how your relationship with him turned out!” Professor Sprout responded, then more kindly, “It’s unfortunate; Cedric — Mr. Diggory — is a kind lad, and you two could have gotten along quite well. What a duo you would have made.”

“And…you’re saying that kids younger than us are fighting because of us?”

“Yes, that’s the main issue.”

“Oh. So I have to…talk to him nicely to fix this?”

“Well,” Professor Sprout chuckled, “It’s a tad bit more complicated than that, but in theory, it could work. And who knows, you might even make a friend…or more.”

You gave her a slightly judgemental look but didn’t confront her on anything, “Did Diggory agree to this or…?”

“Well, actually, I visited him right after the first task and he was the one that came to me for help. Not specifically for your help but he was never very good at puzzles and I thought that you could use this opportunity to make up. He found it an excellent idea.” She beamed.

The fact that Diggory thought of it as a good idea to speak to you was suspicious but Professor Sprout tended to be a little positive when summarising things so you didn’t think much of it. But your mind wandered to the kiss you shared at the party. The one that kept you up at night.

“Fine,” you sighed, giving in, “I’ll do it.”

“Really?” You nodded apprehensively. “Fantastic! I’ll schedule a date with him and inform you then. Thank you so much, (Name)—Mr. (Surname). Sorry! I have to go now, so I wish you a safe return to your dorm or wherever you may be heading.”

You smiled and waved her goodbye as she slowly backed away.

At around 6 PM, she came to you as you were looking for a book at the library. She informed you that Cedric wished to figure out the egg’s secret as quickly as possible, so they scheduled the meeting for tomorrow afternoon.

For the rest of the day, all night, and the next morning, you pondered on what you were going to say to him and felt generally nervous about the interaction. 

Your thoughts wandered to the kiss back at the party. It’s been over two months, and you still had it stuck in your head like a catchy song. Maybe you two could’ve been friends if not for the entire rivalry thing. Or more. The back of your neck grew warm at the thought. You quickly shook it out of your head.

As per usual, you informed Winnie (who reacted rather pleasantly to the news), Brian (who started theorizing the other possible reasons why Diggory wanted to meet with you) and Elsie (whom you felt you could trust and joined Brian in his speculation). 

You didn’t inform Alistair, though. You hadn’t forgiven him for his rudeness after the first Task of the Triwizard Tournament and generally didn’t feel you could trust him with something like this. He always seemed to dislike Cedric more than you ever had and never handled his emotions well.

So after class, you bade Winnie goodbye as you headed to the library where you expected Cedric to be.

You found him sitting in a corner by himself, back to the window where the glass rattled, the shimmering golden egg on the table next to a book he was reading. On the table lay a pile of books. You recognized a few about riddles and old treasures. Diggory seemed focused on the novel in front of him, hand in his hair. 

He looked so calm, so at ease, that you nearly forgot that you were supposed to hate him. Nearly.

The handsome Hufflepuff looked up as you approached him. His face was blank, but his eyes seemed to glare daggers into your own, taking you aback with how much hate was in that gaze. 

Diggory stood up and walked past you, “Follow me.”

You gave his back a perplexed look but followed him nonetheless. “Where are we going? Why aren’t you taking the egg? Answer me, Diggory! This isn’t about wanting to apologise and becoming friends, isn’t it?”

“I’d never be friends with someone like you.”

“Then what do you want?” You replied, slightly peeved at his response, and somewhere in your heart, you felt stupid and betrayed. Of course he wouldn’t be friends with you. “Where are we going? Respond or I’m leaving.”

With that, he swivelled to face you, causing you to nearly bump into him, “I challenge you to a one-on-one Quidditch match.”

You stared him down, finally getting a look at his outfit. What you thought as his school garments were actually his Quidditch uniforms, and with all the hints he gave you, you realised he was leading you to the Quidditch storage rooms where the brooms were kept.

You stepped away, feeling a bit weirded out. Earlier in the year, you would’ve probably accepted his challenge, but now, with the knowledge of the conflict between your houses and the turmoil of emotion clouding your head, you hesitated. And that hesitation gave Diggory the information he needed to get your answer.

“So you’re too scared for a competition?” he snarled.

“No, I’m just being logical.” you huffed, peeved, “It’s a tempest outside. Too dangerous to use our brooms.”

“So what? I don’t mind the extra difficulty.” Diggory looked you up and down, a cocky look in his eyes, “But it seems you do.”

The challenge triggered something in you, “I never said I refused. Get ready to get your ass beat, Diggory.” You spat his name at him and brushed past him to go to the Quidditch storage where you knew they kept extra brooms. Whatever hope of fixing the problems with the Houses vanished from your mind.

You were going to crush that motherfucker.

You grabbed your old broom — which you had given to the school for their own use — and stomped to the back door the Quidditch players used to leave unnoticed by other students. Along the way, you passed little to no students, most locked up in their dorms, cosying up by the fire as they watched the storm pass.

As you expected, Diggory was waiting for you, a confident look in his striking grey eyes. “You regret quitting, (Surname)?” he asked, eyeing you up and down.

Since you quit the team, you renounced your Quidditch uniform and stuffed it in the back of your closet back home instead of throwing it out. Maybe one of your cousins would grow up to love Quidditch. Who knows?

But now, you regretted your decision not to bring it to Hogwarts as you stood in your school cloak and warm uniform.

You huffed, “I’ll only regret if I lose to you, Diggory. Which would never happen, no matter how we play this game.” After a short yet intense pause, you added, “How do we do this with only two players?”

“Good question,” he said with a smirk and pulled out a small golden ball, “The goal isn’t to score points but to catch the Snitch. But for a little extra challenge, we also have to avoid the Bludgers.” He patted a case next to him.

A bead of sweat ran down your neck, and you silently gulped down your nervousness. “Sounds like you put the odds in your favour. Can’t wait to see the look on your face when I obliterate you.”

Diggory clicked his tongue, brows furrowing slightly as he pushed the backdoor open.

A gust of wind bludgeoned through, causing you to block your face with your arm. Rain splattered you in the face, and you turned it from the entrance.

“Are you sure this is safe, Diggory?” You asked, hesitant.

He handed you big goggles and put his own on his face. “An Impervius spell has been cast on them, so you’ll be able to see.” As you grabbed it, he added with a sly grin, “I can’t be beating you that easily.”

You shot him a glare as you put the goggles on your head. It certainly helped against the beating rain, but you kept flinching when it touched your face. You hated playing in shitty weather.

Diggory stepped outside, and you followed, closing the door behind you. You had to slow it so it would slam loudly.

Once the two of you were in the middle of the court, you got onto your brooms, and Diggory released the Snitch, keeping it in his line of sight until it zoomed behind him. As the case where the Bludgers rattled, you felt your heart rate increase; never had you felt unsafe playing Quidditch — there was always a professor around and Slytherin Beaters having your back — but now, the vastness of the court and unseen danger of it all frightened you.

“Three. Two. One.” Cedric counted over the blasting wind.

“Go!”

Then the both of you took off.

You scanned the court for the minuscule ball of gold that circled the arena — which was difficult because of how foggy and rainy it was but mostly kept away from Diggory. That was until he flew right next to you.

“I’m going to release the Bludgers. Be careful.” He yelled over the roaring wind and pulled out his wand, heading away from you. Your stomach dropped as he said those words; you had secretly wished he had forgotten about them.

Despite the tempest around you, you somehow heard the chains of the Bludger case falling and the sound of them zooming in the air in search of you. You let out an unconscious whimper and gripped your broom tighter, heart pounding your chest.

The rain drenched your clothes and skin, sticking your hair and uniform to your skin. The roaring wind reminded you of a howling pack of wolves: hungry and ready to take what they wished to feast on.

Your eyes frantically searched for that flash of gold, eager to get the game over with. It was rather difficult, considering the amount of fog and rain hindering your vision and the wind beating against you and your broom.

You occasionally saw Diggory close to you or heard the sound of a Bludger, but every time that any of the two seemed to approach you too much, you quickly flew to a different area to search for the Golden Snitch as you fought against the harsh winds of the growing storm.

Suddenly, you saw a dark shape in front of you, zooming towards you. A Bludger.

You swerved to the right, barely dodging the ball and willed your broom to fly away as fast as possible. The Bludger chased you across the pitch like a starving lion chasing an injured antelope. 

You rolled to the left, turned to the right, rushed up and dropped down, desperately trying to get away from it. It nearly hit you once, but instead ran into your broom. You hoped it wasn’t damaged. At that point, you had completely forgotten about the Snitch, the beating of your heart against your chest blurring your thoughts. You normally don’t feel this fear. You shouldn’t feel this afraid.

At some point, you’re flying neck to neck with Cedric. Throwing away your pride you yelled at him to put the Bludgers back in their case.

“What, are you scared? You’re backing out this early?” He mocked.

“I don’t give a flying fuck what you think; I value my safety. This is certainly not keeping me safe!” You growled, “Put the fucking Bludgers away! Ah!” A gust of wind had pushed you, and you nearly ran into Diggory.

“Safe? The way you’re flying isn’t safe!”

You grunted, trying to keep your broom under control, but for some reason, it was swerving wildly. “I can’t — It’s not doing what I want! What the–” You yelled over the screaming wind, your panic increasing and your stomach dropping.

By now, Diggory had noticed something was actually wrong, and you weren’t fucking with him. “(Surname)! Your broom is broken!” He warned, realising too late that the Bludger probably hit your broom, cracking it.

You swore under your breath, the crazy winds abusing your broom, and the ride suddenly worsened when your broom seemed to stop working altogether, causing you to go spiralling across the arena.

You held onto your broom out of fear as you screamed.

Oh God. Oh God.

You were going to die.

Suddenly, you felt your body jolt. You felt branches whip at your face and limbs, and your right arm felt numb and like jello, but the tree nevertheless caught you and prevented you from hitting the ground, which would have probably killed you instantly.

Your head felt light. You probably hit it when you crashed into the tree.

If this was how death felt like, you wouldn’t mind dying.

You closed your eyes, and it was as if the light in your body was snuffed out, and everything around you turned black.

[iniquitousyearning]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 1st. theodore — size kink, big dick.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST | 2024.

summary: there’s a rumour going around that theodore nott has a big dick…..why not see it for yourself?

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, hogwarts uni (obviously), big dick!theo, size difference, size kink ofc, fingering, PIV, dirty talk, slowish sex, put on your fantasy cap for this one bc it’s a little wild, also, anyone know any wheelchair providers?

How the hell did you end up here? How had a night meant for celebration, for laughter and drinks and the triumph of a Quidditch victory, lead to this—

Fevered kisses, teeth clashing—your breath catching in the dim, muted glow of Theodore Nott's dorm—spine pressed against his door as his lips attacked yours, moving to your neck with a hunger that had your knees weak. There was a party, still alive somewhere down the hall, warmth spilling into the corridors, the echo of cheers and laughter floating past—but it was all a distant memory now. All of it blurred, lost in the way Theo's hands roamed over your hips, tugging you closer like he was starved.

Oh, right—the rumours.

Rumours have always had a way of creeping into places they don't belong. A whisper here, a careless word there. Stupid little fires, barely a spark until someone fans the flames. You've seen it before—how a single rumour can grow, how it can warp a simple night into something bigger. Something chaotic.

And now, well, you're living it.

Curiosity was what pulled you into his orbit tonight, what sparked the embers that had been burning between you two for far too long. Because Pansy Parkinson—loud, exaggerative, and far-too-tipsy—couldn't resist spilling some gossip mid-party, something about Daphne, something about Theodore and nine goddamn inches.

You know, the usual Quidditch post-match talk.

And it should have been nothing. It should have got lost in all the other Slytherin boy ramblings but instead, it stuck. Gods, it fucking stuck. Pansy's little comment sparked the fire in you, a fire that led to a conversation over drinks, your hand grazing his, and before you knew it, you were leaning into Theodore Nott at the punch bowl, asking questions you had no blasted right asking, yet went ahead and did anyways.

Something about...well—

"You've heard, then," he'd replied, voice low as those blue eyes watched you over the rim of his glass.

It wasn't a question. It was a challenge. For all the audacity you had—Theodore had just as much.

"I have," you leaned closer, your voice almost teasing as you whispered against the curve of his ear. "Big rumours, Teddy...huge, even."

He tensed, just slightly, the kind of reaction you noticed only because you were watching him so closely. You're pretty sure he wasn't expecting something like that to come out of your mouth—and you couldn't blame him, because truthfully, you weren't expecting it either.

That was, what you'd like to call, the point of no return.

There was a response from him. Something cocky enough—something like; "and do you make a habit of believing everything you hear?"

"Not everything," you said with a shrug, though your heart was in your fucking throat. "But I'm open to proof."

There weren't very many words exchanged after that—maybe some slight teasing—maybe another brush of his hand—but Theo was never a man to waste time, and it was clear that whatever curiosity you held for him had bubbled up now—heady and bold—and created a mess between you that couldn’t be contained.

The party, the victory, the cheers—it all became static as his hand slipped around your waist, his lips at your ear in a whisper. "Then let's put these rumours to rest."

You barely had the chance to nod before Theodore moved—grabbing your wrist and moving you through the crowd like you were something to be expedited, the sea of students parting before him. Pansy spotted you leaving, her eyes gleaming as she threw you a wicked smile and a drunken thumbs-up. You rolled your eyes, smirking back, but everything else blurred into the background as Theodore led you out of the common room, and before you knew it, you were inside his dorm.

The door slammed shut behind you, the cold surface meeting your back before his lips found yours—urgent, consuming. His hands moved with purpose, sliding under your shirt, lifting it over your head before you even realized what was happening. His own shirt followed, discarded carelessly onto the floor as he pressed his body against yours.

The memory blurred as the urgency of the present took over. You gasped at the feel of him, his entirety—hard, aching, massive. The outline of him was impossible to ignore, the mere suggestion of what was to come already making your heart pound wildly in your chest.

The rumours had seemed absurd at first, but now...now, they felt terrifyingly real. He was huge.

"Tell me," he breathed, his voice a low rumble against your lips as his fingers worked deftly at removing your skirt. "About those rumours..."

Your head fell back against the door, exposing the line of your throat as his mouth moved lower, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Whimpering, you caressed his shoulders, up his neck, finding his hair, fingers teasing the warm, hidden shell of his ears. At this, his back crested, and he moaned, pitching forward, hips working to fuse you with the door.

"I—I heard..." you tried to speak, but his mouth was on your neck, and the words tangled in your throat. "Gods—something about...nine inches..."

Theo hummed against your skin, the sound vibrating through you, sending blood pooling low. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his lips hovering over yours, his breath hot and heavy as he wrapped his hands around your thighs and lifted you up—carrying you toward his bed.

"What else." He muttered against your mouth.

"Daphne..." you panted, barely able to think straight with the way he was touching you, the way he was looking at you. "She...she said she couldn't take it all..."

"And if I say that's true?" He rasped, laying you down onto his comforter. "What then?"

A shiver shook you from the base of your spine, and you curled your legs around him, core clenching hard—he sprawled over you, his body massive—engulfing yours, roving his hands up and down your bare thighs as his lips left wet, warm kisses across your breasts, teeth digging into the sheer fabric of your bra—you were gasping, whimpering under him, your chest rising and falling so rapidly you'd think you'd ran a marathon.

"Gods—that's...an odd question, Teddy..." your hips bucked, seeking his touch, and he grazed your pussy over your underwear, thumb ghosting your clit through the fabric. You squeaked, and he silenced you with his mouth, tugging at the fabric until he'd fit his thick fingers under the hem. "Are you...mm..asking if I can handle it?"

"Fucking soaked already," Theo peeled away, gasping, watching you as he slid a digit through your hot slit, his breath hitching. "Yes—I'm asking if you can handle it."

"Fuck—I don't—I don't know..." he dragged a slickened finger over your clit—you quivered, biting your lip until you found your words. "Only one way to find out."

"You're right," he breathed, swirling his finger, your body pulsing underneath him—every nerve within you roaring to life. "I'll be easy on you...I'll go slow..." his thumb took over, his middle and fourth finger teasing your entrance, lips hovering over your ear. "Let's stretch you out first."

"I—" you began, and he plunged into you. "—fuck."

Theo crooked his fingers in your cunt, eyes focused on your flushing face, the flow of your moans, his breath shallow as you clenched and pulsed around him. His thumb traced rapid little lines around your swollen clit, two long fingers filling you full. He wet his lips, pressing his mouth to yours in a brief kiss as he snapped his wrist, curling and scissoring inside of you. His hips rocked with his rhythm, and you caught sight of his erection straining against his jeans—

"Tight little thing," he growled, head dipping low as he watched his fingers disappear inside your dripping cunt. "I might fucking break you."

He jutted his erection against your thigh and you moaned, clenching around him. "Mm—Theo—"

His eyes followed yours toward his crotch—you couldn't help yourself, your fingers burned to feel him—to stroke him—to feel the weight of him in your hand. He nodded, and amidst your gasps and moans you reached for him, grasping at his zipper and undoing the button, tugging his jeans and boxers down his thighs—

Theo groaned and your mouth watered. Those rumours—Gods, those fucking rumours—

"Fucking hell—" you breathed, wrapping your fingers around his thick, heavy cock—he choked, digits pumping you deep—your thighs shook, your pulse in your throat. You tightened your fist and stroked him, watching him from half-lidded eyes. "Theo—holy fuck.."

His lungs sputtered. "That enough proof for you, Bella?"

You nodded and he throbbed—twitched under your grip, blood biting his cheeks when you coated his head with the bead of his pre-cum, his breath uneven, tattered from the weight of lust—but so was yours.

You moaned. "Oh—Gods—I'm—"

Theo circled your stiff nub, pumping his fingers into your pussy, and pleasure wracked you, pouring into your pulse, your orgasm charging toward you at light speed—his lips found yours, softly, muffling your moans.

"You're close, I can feel it..." he muttered against your mouth, fingers dragging at your walls, groaning as you clenched—as your free hand gripped his hair harder. "Cum on my fingers, Bella, go on..."

You shuddered and snapped—pleasure pulsating from your core and through your limbs, your orgasm lighting up your spine. In its intensity, you bit at his bottom lip while your cunt clamped down around his fingers, a feral energy coursing—the need for more—the need for every goddamn thing he was willing to give you eating away at your sanity—all coherent thought gone, only dissipating further as Theo pulled his fingers from your soaked cunt and sucked them clean with a growl.

"As fucking delicious as I'd imagined," he cooed, drifting his other hand up your thigh, fingers kneading the trembling flesh. You swallowed, lungs still working to find their rhythm. "I don't think you have any idea how long l've wanted this...any idea what you do to me..."

Gods—you almost wanted to laugh—this felt like a fever dream. You'd been friends for years, the fact it took this to get you both here was astonishing. His blue eyes peered down at you—wide and waiting.

"Look at you," you muttered, eyes dipping down to his throbbing dick, still twitching insistently in your hand. "I think I know exactly what I do to you."

Theo snuffed a groan in his throat, but his cock twitched again, despite himself—there was no preventing that.

"Cocky as ever," he whispered, lips curling in a teasing grin. "But now's not the time, principessa..."

"I can handle you," you breathed out, though a tremor in your voice hinted at the uncertainty you felt.

"We'll see." He said. "Lay on your side."

With a flush creeping up your neck, you complied, turning to face the window. The moonlight filtered through the glass, casting a silver sheen over the rippling surface of the Black Lake. Theo moved behind you, his body flush against yours, the slickness of sweat making your skin cling together—one arm slipped beneath your head, cradling it, while the other slid under your thigh, lifting it with a deliberate, practiced motion.

His dick slid against you, the girth daunting enough if not for the sheer fucking length of it—his body was massive behind yours, dwarfing you, a solid wall of heat at your back. You'd never felt so small, so fragile in a way that screamed breakable.

Theo teased your slit, covering himself in your juices—

"Just the tip, yeah?" He whispered, and fuck—you almost moaned. His voice was ruined. "For now."

"Theo—I—I think I can handle it..." you were trying to convince yourself as much as him. You wanted him to enjoy himself, too. "Just…fuck me, please.."

"Merlin help you..." Theo groaned and it almost sounded pitying—dragging the swollen head of his cock against your clit before dipping lower, pressing against the folds of your greedy cunt— "you don't know what you're saying..."

His arm under your head curled inward, wrapping around your neck and holding you in place against him—his other hand guiding his length to your entrance and pressing in—shushing you softly as the first inch breached you and you cried out—as your mind blanked.

"Theo—" you gasped through the chokehold he had you in, his free hand holding your thigh up as it trembled. "That's—you're—fuck—"

He pulled out and rocked along you again, testing you, offering you centimeters of his length at time. Gooseflesh flooded you.

His lips pressed against your ear. "Shhh, you said you could handle me, yeah?"

His hand on your thigh shifted lower, resting on the crease. He rutted against you a few more times, dragging this out for everything it was worth until he brought the tip back to your entrance and pushed in—slowly, inexorably—spearing you open, splitting your cunt and prying you wide in a way that rid your breath.

You whimpered, hand scrambling for purchase on his hip behind you. "Ohhh—h-holy fuck.."

"Fucking hell...you're tight..." his arm around your neck tightened, holding you against him and he pressed in deeper. "That's barely half..."

You fought for air and found absolutely none, every muscle in your body tensing, your limbs trembling, your mind fizzing with staticky pleasure. You felt as though you could break in two.

"Fuck," he drew out again, and pressed back in. "You can barely take it."

He was right. You could barely fucking take it. A revelation that you weren’t surprised by—but that made all the blood in your body pool low, walls fluttering around him in protest.

"Gods, Theo—T-theo—" you grasped his wrist, nails digging into his skin, eyes squeezed shut. "Wait—"

"Little more...you're doing so good, Bella..." he was cooing now, pressing kisses to your cheek. "I'll make it fit...we'll make it fit, won't we?"

You couldn't find a fucking modicum of sense to articulate a response. All you could do was feel—take and feel—the way he slid out, only to drive into you again, slowly, with a hiss of air through his teeth—drawing out loud, shameless groans from your chest.

"Mmm—breathe, Bella..." it was soft, soothing, like he was trying to coax you open with words. "Relax for me, yeah? Let me in...let me in..."

You obeyed without even thinking, pulling in shaky breaths, forcing your body to comply, even as your muscles screamed to stay tense—to fight the overwhelming fullness of him. You felt as though he couldn't possibly get deeper, but then he did, and he continued to until he bottomed out—his cockhead kissing your cervix, forcing a sound out of your chest that was more a sob than a moan.

Your eyes were shut so tight. "That's—"

"All of me," he interrupted, satisfaction dripping from every syllable. He rolled his hips, grinding against you, barely pulling out before pushing back in, and your whole body clenched in response. "Does it hurt?"

Every movement proved indefinitely that he was as long as he was thick—your core stretching to accommodate him. You felt him in places you'd never felt before—moulding and carving you out just for him, digging out new space inside you that only he could occupy.

"A little—“ the words were a whimper, and your walls tightened around him instinctively, fighting to adjust, to accommodate the impossible size of him. “Gods—“

"Then why are you making it worse?" He hissed through his teeth, strain bleeding into his tone. You could hear the shift—wrecked, ruined, like he was barely holding onto himself. "Fuck, you're squeezing me...too tight...relax.."

He pulled out and thrust back in, harder this time, sucking in air through his teeth as he worked you wider with each plunge into your soaked cunt. Your body rebelled, clenching down around him again, and he groaned, the sound vibrating through you, his hips snapping against yours in response.

"That's not going to make it easier, you know." His voice was a tight growl, but there was a grin in it, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you. "Keep that up and I'm going to leave you sore all day."

The thought made you clench again, your body betraying you as a broken apology fell from your lips—pain giving way to pleasure. "I'm—ohh—sorry-"

"Oh, you're going to be sorry." His pace quickened and you were seeing stars—bright and flashing and blurring your vision. "When you're spending all day in bed tomorrow...recovering..."

It only took seconds before he was grunting behind you—lost in your tight heat as he held you against him, hooking your thigh up toward your chest as his arm tightened around your neck, cock ramming your cunt—colliding with your cervix, pushing screams from your lungs. You couldn't think—couldn't catch your breath as he drove into you over and over.

"Fuck—so good…so fucking wet..." Theo moaned, the sound of his cock slippery and lewd, broadcasting evidence of your arousal. Face on fire, you tossed your head back against his shoulder and closed your eyes, chewing your lip, rocking with the force of his strokes. “You like that—being filled like this...greedy little thing..."

You whinged; he was boring into your stomach, delight gushing through your veins. You had never been with a man this endowed, and this fucking ruthless. It made you throb, set you aflame, whirled your brain with desire. Words eluded you.

"Ohh—yes,” you choked out between moans. "Gods—you're huge—"

"I am," he groaned in your ear, the hand on your thigh shifting to your belly, palm pressing against your pelvis—he eased his pace, offering you deep, slow strokes, letting you spasm around every goddamn inch. "That's how deep I'm in you."

At that, you moaned, shamelessly. Cocky bastard he was. You knew now that he was more than entitled to it.

"Can...fuck—can I cum in you?" His fingers slipped to your clit, slowly swirling over it—you didn't even have a second to process that question before the pleasure wracked you so hard you cried out, and he growled. "Fuck—let me cum in you...in this pretty little cunt.."

Somewhere in the blur, you registered his words—low, rough, pulling at the frayed edges of your sanity. Contraceptives. You were on them. It was the last rational thought you had left, buried deep under layers of heat and want. You knew you were fine, but the way he asked, in that voice—Gods—

His fingers increased their pace and you wailed. "Theo—holy f-fuck—yes—yes please!"

Lightning euphoria ripped up your spine with a shameless shriek, your climax shattering you. Your cunt throbbed and milked his dick, your thighs twitching, and your back reached for the wall but his arm around you kept you in place, pleasure possessing your nerves. It seemed an eternity—he was still fucking you through it, breaking you deep, and then he shattered too—breath washing over the back of your neck, chest heaving and lungs sputtering as he spilled his release into you, deep and sticky and hot.

You were still floating between realms of sensation and reality—your mind struggling to tether itself back to consciousness when Theo finally pulled out, releasing you. Both of you were heaving, chests rising and falling in tandem, your bodies slick with sweat and satisfaction.

A moment passed, your breaths slowly steadying, when you felt his arm snake around your waist, pulling you effortlessly against his chest. You shot him a weak, lopsided smile over your shoulder, still catching your breath.

"You okay?" He murmured, his voice a quiet hum in the afterglow.

"More than," you nodded, though your body still hummed with the remnants of pleasure. A hollow ache replaced where he'd been, leaving you startlingly aware of how empty you felt without him. "That was...you are...

"I know," he purred, lips grazing the sensitive spot behind your ear, the smirk practically carved into his breath. You could feel his smugness radiating off him, a tangible thing. "Hope your curiosity was sated."

You let out a breathy laugh, the warmth of his body seeping into your skin. "That, among other things."

"Good," he whispered, "I went easy on you."

You huffed, a slow smile creeping across your face. "Is that so?"

"Extremely so," he murmured, fingers tracing lazy circles over your hip. "Took all the willpower I had."

"Sure," you teased. "You're just saying that because I took you so well."

He chuckled, low and sinful, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your spine.

"Oh, she's cocky," he drawled, lips brushing your shoulder. "We'll see about that after I put you in ten different positions."

Your heart stuttered, your muscles tensing at the sheer boldness of the statement. Heat pooled in your belly once more, that insatiable curiosity sparking again. You knew this night was far from over.

Perhaps a little more proof wouldn’t hurt...

You turned your head just slightly, voice breathy but wanting. "Please do."

[lqveharrington]

The Alchemy | D.M.

summary: Although Draco promised that he would keep your relationship a secret just for you, he can’t contain himself after winning the Hogwarts quidditch cup.

pairing: draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader

includes: FLUFF, established relationship (and a last name of Evergreen for the reader)

a/n: inspired by the olympics recently ❤️

When Draco asked you out in fourth year, you thought it was a joke. Sure, you were both acquainted due to your pure wizardry bloodline, but you were in Hufflepuff. The only time the other houses thought you were useful was when they wanted to sneak into the kitchen. So when he came up and sat down beside you when you were studying potions, you were disheartened.

“Malfoy, please don’t do this.” You sigh, rubbing your forehead. You were just starting to understand what ingredients made a truth serum.

“Do what? I’m asking you if you want to go to Hogsmeade together this weekend.” He spun the Malfoy signet ring adorning his hand.

You look up at him with tired eyes, “Did someone put you up to this?”

“What? No no, I—“ He cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks warm at how you were able to fluster him with even a small glance. “I’m really asking you to go on a date with me.”

You search his face for any indication of a lie, before biting your lip softly and looking down at your parchment. “Are you really?”

“I am.” Draco dropped his hand onto yours to stop your fidgeting with the quill.

You felt your own face heat up at the notion. He thumbed your palm softly as you stayed quiet, not minding his closeness. Finally, you looked up at him, “You have yourself a date, Malfoy.” He sent you a soft smile but before he could say anything else, you interrupted. “Please don’t let me down.”

Draco never let you down. Despite your earlier doubts, you saw how kind and thoughtful the Malfoy heir was underneath his hardened shell his father had built around him. In private, he was always attentive, loving, clingy — there wasn’t a moment where he was separated from you. In public, he had to rein in those feelings just for you.

Even when you started your seventh year at Hogwarts, you were still terrified what others at school would say about a Hufflepuff dating the Slytherin Prince. Sure, his parents and your parents knew, but not the entirety of Hogwarts. You had asked Draco to keep your relationship private until you were ready to face the reality of your relationship to the rest of the world. He begrudgingly agreed, respecting your wishes; but the need to kiss you in front of the entire student body to rightly claim that you were his was wavering.

Especially when it had been three years since you first started dating. And right now, you were currently hiding below the stands together as you greeted him with good luck kisses for his final quidditch match as a student in Hogwarts.

“I.” Kiss. “Love.” Kiss. “You.” Kiss. You say softly as he holds you close by your hips — smiling into all your kisses. “Good.” Kiss. “Luck.” Kiss.

“You’re killing me here, love.” Draco murmurs against your lips. He pulls away gently to look at your ever so loving gaze. He draws small hearts on you hip, “You done?”

“Never.” You kiss him again, hands cupping his jaw. “I want you to be stuck with me forever.”

He hums into the kiss as you thumb his cheeks softly, “I will after I win this game, my love.”

You separate again, grinning like a lovesick puppy. “Good luck, Dray. I’ll see you later.” You press one last kiss to his lips before leaving his arms and running up the Hufflepuff stands to cheer. You couldn’t deny that even after all these years he still made you giddy and red.

Draco shook his head with a soft smile only you could coax out of him. He walked out from the stands and hopped on his broom, ready in the air for his final match as Slytherin’s seeker. Cheers filled the stadium as the players took their place, captains shaking hands.

The final match for Slytherin and Gryffindor was probably the most anticipated all year round. Since it was also Harry Potter’s last game as seeker, and the two seekers were known as rivals, it was hyped up to be one of the best end matches of the season.

As the game progressed, Slytherin and Gryffindor were constantly tied. It was really up to the seekers to find the golden snitch to determine the winner. There were bets taking place in the house stands, mind fixated on earning a few galleons for the last time. For the Hufflepuff stands, they were a house divided. Many cheered for scarlet and gold while the other half cheered for green and silver.

You didn’t mind the division between your house. After all, you only watched the games for Draco. Your friends were cheering for the Gryffindors whilst you carried the small Slytherin flag in your hands — eyes trained on the blonde high above the game itself. The second you blinked from the blazing sun, Draco was soaring after the golden snitch, Harry close behind and eventually flying right next to him.

The shouts from the stands only fueled the seekers’ attention to the flying gold. Draco and Harry were chasing in circles after the snitch, attention focused on nothing else even as the bludger zoomed past them.

You held your breath as they both reach out for the snitch. Your friend held your shoulder in anticipation, watching the two closely. Before you could register what happened, she gasped and shook your shoulders in frustration.

“I lost ten galleons to that!” She sighed heavily as Draco flashed the golden snitch in the air.

The rush of the win made you scream happily with the other Hufflepuffs and houses cheering for the Slytherin team. You wear clapping your hands as the team began flying around in victory. You watched as Draco flew around the stands more as the rest of the Slytherin team settled on the grounds. His eyes scanned the stadium until they lit up when they saw you at the very front of the Hufflepuff stands — waving your Slytherin flag with pride.

“Seems like Malfoy is off showing the last snitch he’ll catch for the Slytherin quidditch team! But we all want to know where the trophy is!” The third year announcer spoke, voice casted across the stadium.

You smiled at Draco softly when you finally met his eyes. And before you knew it, he flew right over to you and cupped your face, kissing you senselessly. You grinned into the kiss as you held his cheeks, the shouts and screams from your housemates blending in your ears.

“Aw, quite a beautiful way to celebrate the win. Don’t you think so, McGonagall? Honestly, I wasn’t expecting Malfoy and Evergreen— Ow, sorry.” The third year announcer spoke once more, rubbing the spot the professor lightly hit them with a newspaper.

You part from Draco with a blinding smile, “I think I agree, this is a beautiful way to celebrate.” You say quietly only for him to hear, pressing quick kisses to his lips.

“I’m proud of you, love.” Draco nudges your nose with his to gently stop your kisses for a second — even though he did want more.

“Me? You just won the quidditch cup for your house!” You laugh while wrapping your arms behind his neck, careful in trying not to pull him off his broom.

He rubbed the apples of your cheeks, “You just let me kiss you in front of the entire student body… I think that’s more important.” He pulled you in for another mind searing kiss, making you smile helplessly.

“AGAIN?” The third year announcer shouted into the microphone once more. “Is there—“

“Alright, we’re done announcing, boys and girls.” Professor McGonagall spoke and shut the speakers off; although she was quite happy for the couple.

You giggled as he pulled you into a hug. “I love you.”

Draco pressed kisses to your cheek repeatedly, “I love you more.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[prythiansprincess]

azúcar.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader.

song inspiration: baby by madison beer.

author's note: benjamin being active on tiktok is dangerous for my health. i actually feel like i'm about to crawl on the ceiling from how badly i want this man. literally tweaking. anyways, enjoy 😊

There were a lot of quidditch related superstitions you were willing to put up with. 

Wearing the same socks during every match. Kissing your boyfriend good luck before every game. Even the rowdy common room parties that you and Mattheo often snuck out of to have a celebration of your own was a tradition you welcomed with open arms. 

But this was not one of them. 

“It’s absolutely absurd,” Pansy huffed, her sleek black hair grazing her chin as she tucked her legs underneath her on the velvet couch. “Blaise has lost his mind.” 

“Sounds like you’re the one losing it, Pans.” 

Pansy rolled her eyes. “You would too if your boyfriend suddenly announced a sex ban as part of some weird quidditch superstition.” 

Since the start of the season, the quidditch team had taken a few hits. Usually, the boys dominated the other houses, but they barely won against Hufflepuff and came to a draw against Ravenclaw during the last game. Ending in a tie was apparently the last straw because the day after the match, Blaise told Pansy that the team had taken a pact of celibacy. 

For some deranged reason, the boys believed that abstaining from sex for a week would help them secure a win for the rematch on Friday. For the next five days, they intended to sleep, breathe, and eat quidditch. Apparently, your feminine wiles would have to be set aside for the meantime. As if sex were the problem and not their constant drinking and partying, which probably contributed to their lack of focus as a whole. Not that the boys would listen to common sense at this point. 

You scoffed. “Please, Mattheo wouldn’t last a day without sex let alone a whole week.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Pansy said rather bitterly, picking at the cushion in her lap. “The lot of them are taking this entirely too seriously. Blaise won’t even allow himself to be in a room alone with me.”

”Well, Zabini has a surprising amount of self-control. Mattheo, on the other hand, is perpetually horny. There’s no way that he agreed to such a ridiculous pact.”

“Lucky you,” your best friend said with a long suffering sigh.

You nudged her knee with your foot and smiled mischievously. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m more than willing to help. Blaise may be disciplined, but he’s also just a man. What do you say we pop into the village? I think I saw a lace emerald lingerie set that had your name all over it.”

Pansy perked up at that. “I knew I came to the right person.”

Your best friend smiled as you hooked your arm through her elbow. “Of course you did. Now come on, let’s bring Zabini to his knees.” 

Sprawled out on Mattheo’s bed, you flicked through the pages of your novel and waited for your boyfriend to return from practice. The trip to Hogsmeade had been a complete success. Just as you suspected, the little set you glimpsed through the lingerie store window looked absolutely stunning on Pansy. Blaise didn’t stand a chance. 

As a matter of fact, you’d given the two of them privacy tonight. They were due for a study session at your shared dorm tonight, but you quietly slipped out in the midst of their heated argument about the Goblin Rebellion and happily skipped off to your boyfriend’s room. 

Given the late hour, Mattheo was due back any second now. As if summoning him from your thoughts alone, your boyfriend sauntered into the room, looking sweaty and sexy from running though drills all afternoon. Mattheo grinned the second he spotted you on his bed. 

“Hi, princesa,” he greeted, his voice low and husky. 

”Hi, Matty.” You propped yourself up on your elbows and smiled. “How was practice?” 

“Absolutely fucking brutal,” Mattheo grunted as he pulled off his shoes. “Theo clobbered the fuck out of me, but I suppose it’s better him than the Ravenclaws. Mark my words, we’re going to beat those twats come Friday.” 

“I don’t doubt it, babe.” You pushed off the mattress and scooted closer to him. 

Mattheo licked his lips as you neared, breath hitching as you brushed his damp curls off of his forehead. You smirked and leaned in for a kiss. At the last second, Mattheo turned sharply, causing the kiss to land on his cheek instead of his lips. 

“I’m all sweaty,” he explained. You quirked a brow. Sweat, dirt, and grime had never stopped the two of you before, but you brushed it off. He was probably just wound up about winning. Mattheo smiled apologetically and kissed your temple. “Let me shower first and then we can cuddle, okay?’ 

You made the mistake of looking into those big, brown eyes. Damn him and his chocolate eyed gaze. The twat knew it was your weakness. 

“Fine,” you said as you crawled underneath the covers. “But hurry up, I’m getting tired.” 

Ten minutes later, you were fully engrossed in your book again. Just as it reached a particularly steamy scene, the door swung open, revealing a half-naked Mattheo. The white towel wrapped precariously around his trim waist gave you a perfect view of his toned chest and ripped abs, beads of water clinging onto his glistening skin like rain drops. You bit your lip as he tugged on a clean pair of boxers over his legs, cocking your head to appreciate the curve of his arse before he slipped into his sweatpants. 

Unaware of your ogling, Mattheo climbed into bed and wrapped his arms around you. “What are you reading, mi amor?” 

“Nothing that can’t wait,” you murmured, leaning in to kiss your boyfriend.

This time, Mattheo gladly accepted the kiss. His lips slanted over yours, sighing softly as you melted into him. Your kisses were soft and sweet, punctuated by cute little pecks that had your boyfriend smiling against your mouth. You took the opportunity to slide your tongue against his, making Mattheo groan as his fingers slipped through your hair. 

“Damn, mami. You missed me that much?” 

You rolled your eyes at his cocky smirk while you climbed into his lap and straddled him. Mattheo gripped your hips, moaning as your lips latched onto his neck. His pretty brown eyes rolled back as you left a trail of kisses along the column of his throat. You raked your nails along his chest, dragging red lines down to his abs, and tracing his happy trail as he captured your lips once more. Mattheo let out a choked groan as you tugged at his waistband. To your surprise, he grabbed your wrist and blinked up at you. 

“Y/N…” Mattheo said breathlessly. “Maybe we should…maybe we should go to sleep.” His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he tried and failed to swallow his own words. 

You raised a brow and settled over his lap, squirming against his hard length as Mattheo bit his lip. “You want to go to sleep? Right now? While I’m on top of you and willing to do whatever you want?” 

Your boyfriend looked pained. Conflict was evident on his face. Without a word, Mattheo nodded. 

“Oh my god,” you blurted in disbelief. “You agreed to that stupid sex ban, didn’t you?”

Mattheo groaned. “Only for a week, love. We really need to win this match.” 

You scoffed. This was absolutely ridiculous. “I know you, Mattheo. You aren’t going to last a week.” 

“Hey! Have a little faith in me.” 

Rolling off of him, you crossed your arms against your chest. “First of all, you didn’t even ask me if I’d be okay with it.” 

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. With a shit-eating grin, Mattheo cocked his head at you. “It sounds to me like you’re the one who can’t last a week, princesa.” 

“Please,” you said with an eye roll. “I have my book boyfriends to keep me company. I can channel all my sexual energy into reading smut. You, on the other hand? You can’t even make it through class without dragging me into a broom closet.” 

Faster than you thought possible, Mattheo flipped you onto your back and pinned you to the mattress. A cocky smirk curved against his lips as he trailed them down your neck. “Oh?” he hummed, kissing the sweet spot just below your ear, his hand gripping the inside of your thigh, making you press your legs together to suppress the need. The bloody bastard. “But can your book boyfriends touch you like I can?” 

Channeling every ounce of self-control within you, a calm and unbothered expression clicked into place like a mask. You tugged at his curls, forcing him away from your neck. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about me, Matty. I’ll be just fine.” Mattheo released a choked groan when you palmed the front of his boxers. He twitched at your touch, his cock painfully hard. “Looks like you’re not doing too hot, though. Let me know if you need help. You know I’d be more than happy to give you relief, baby.” 

Mattheo cursed under his breath as his own plan backfired on him. Blood rushed down to his cock as you squeezed gently, making him harder and hornier than ever. You chuckled darkly as he grinded against your hand. With one last squeeze, you kissed his cheek and peeled yourself away from his bed. 

“You know where to find me, papi.”

He watched in disbelief as you gathered your things, cute little ass swaying farther and farther away from him as you hauled your bag over your shoulder. “You’re seriously leaving?” 

You smirked and waved at your boyfriend as you pulled the door open. “I have a hot date with my romance novel. Good luck with your pact, babe. You’ll need it.” 

Merlin, Mattheo was going out of his fucking mind. 

For Salazar’s sake, he was starting to get the shakes and it had only been two days since he last had sex. Granted, it felt like an eternity since you were more than determined to get your boyfriend to break. Could lack of sex actually drive a person to the brink of insanity? Mattheo was pretty convinced that the answer was yes as he gaped at the lacy red bra peeking out under your white blouse. 

Had your clothes shrunk in the wash? Mattheo could’ve sworn that your shirt hadn’t been that tight before. You were nearly bursting out of it and the view of your tits pressed together as you leaned across the table to steal a blueberry off of his plate made his mouth water and his dick hard. 

“Stay strong, Riddle,” Theo whispered beside him. “We’ve got this.” 

Never in his life had he wanted to throttle Theo more. The only thing Mattheo had at the moment was a painful fucking boner. Three more days. That’s all he had to endure before they called off this stupid sex pact. 

He could make it. Couldn’t he?

As he looked up at you sucking on a strawberry, Mattheo’s confident wavered. You were truly testing what very little self control that he possessed. You were right when you said that your boyfriend couldn’t last a single class without dragging you into an empty broom closet. You were just so pretty and sexy and hot and that was when you weren’t trying. 

Now that you were determined to tease the fuck out of him, Mattheo didn’t stand a chance. 

All day, you focused on making his life an absolute living hell. Perching on his lap, fixing his tie, smiling prettily while you brushed his curls back and left glossy kiss prints all over his cheeks. His hands were in permanent fists, fingernails digging into the flesh of his palm so deeply that he wouldn’t be surprised to find himself bleeding. This was torture. Cruel and unusual punishment. 

The final straw came when the two of you were studying in the library later that night. Bouncing his leg, Mattheo forced himself to pay attention to the Ancient Runes textbook in front of him instead of ogling you from across the table. It wasn’t working though. Every few minutes, he caught himself glancing up at you. Your lips, your eyes, your hair. There was nothing sexual about you taking notes yet he was so turned on that he felt dizzy. 

Mattheo lowered his head, trying to keep cool. When he looked back up, you were no longer in your seat. Instead, you were reaching for a book on the shelves behind you. Whatever you were looking for was on the lowest shelves, so you bent down to retrieve it. When you did, your skirt rode up, revealing that you weren’t wearing any underwear. Mattheo hissed, scrambling to pull your skirt down. 

”What in Salazar’s name are you doing, Y/N?” Your boyfriend gripped your elbow, anger and frustration radiating off of him in waves. 

You blinked up at him, putting on an innocent smile. “Oh!” you exclaimed, placing a hand on Mattheo’s chest. “Did I forget to wear underwear? Silly me.” 

Your boyfriend groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He muttered something under his breath repeatedly. Breathing exercises. You bit back a smirk. 

On his third count to ten, Mattheo finally opened his eyes. Without a word, he gathered your belongings and hauled you out of the library. He didn’t speak until the two of you were back in the dungeons. 

“I’m going to study in my room,” Mattheo declared as he handed you your book bag. “You’ll study in yours.” 

You grinned. “Oh, Matty. We both know the only thing you’ll be studying is your cock in your hand.” Mattheo tensed as you traced a finger down his jawline. “What a shame. I’d be more than willing to put an end to your misery if you just admit that the pact is stupid.” 

For Salazar’s fucking sake. Mattheo was so close to calling this whole thing off. He wanted you. Screaming underneath him. Crying from pleasure. Moaning his name. But he couldn’t. He had to stay strong. 

Mattheo sighed and kissed your temple. “Good night, mi amor. I love you. Even though you’re determined to drive me fucking mental.” 

You smiled before pulling him in by his tie. Mattheo groaned as you placed a sweet kiss on his lips, barely giving him a taste of what he wanted. “Love you too, Matty. Sleep tight. I hope you dream of me tonight.” 

With that, he watched you saunter off in the direction of your dorm, skipping through the common room without a care in the world. Mattheo stared up at the ceiling and counted to ten again. 

Friday could not come any fucking faster. 

You had to admit that you were impressed. Your boyfriend had miraculously survived an entire week without sex. 

Despite your best efforts to thwart the stupid pact, Mattheo stayed true to his word. A pretty impressive feat given the fact that you’d practically thrown everything you had into seducing him. Sitting on his lap, licking your lips while he talked, kissing that sweet spot below his jaw, wearing your clothes shorter and tighter than ever, and even sleeping in his favorite silk red set, which you knew was particularly hard for him if the erection pressed against your back all night was any indication. 

Still, Mattheo withstood all of your attempts. 

You would’ve been upset had it not been for the fact that Mattheo looked absolutely pained by the whole ordeal. This entire week, his fists were permanently clenched at his side, his jaw locking and unlocking with every suggestive comment you threw his way, his eyes flickering over your body, groaning in frustration as he tortured himself by looking at what he couldn’t have. 

It was amusing to watch your boyfriend twitch at your every move. As you predicted, you fared better than Mattheo had. After all, you had a wild imagination and a collection of toys to hold you over. That wasn’t to say that you weren’t needy and aching for him, but you had ways of coping. 

“I’m so fucking glad it’s Friday,” Pansy grumbled beside you as she took a swig from her flask. 

After the whole bring Zabini to his knees plan failed, she’d been crankier than ever. Neither one of you expected either of your boyfriends to even make it this far without caving at least once. 

“Me too, babe. As much as I’m rooting for our boys, I can’t wait for this bloody game to be over. Win or lose, I know the sex is going to be insane.” 

Your best friend smirked as she handed you the firewhisky. “I’ll cheers to that, babe.” 

Surprisingly, the tension and frustration helped the boys play better than ever. They were ruthless on the field. Theo and Enzo were vicious as they defended the goalposts, giving way for Blaise and Mattheo to chase after the opposing beaters, nearly taking some poor bloke’s head off with a bludger. You almost felt bad for the Ravenclaws. 

When Draco caught the snitch, you cheered loudly. You and Pansy screamed until your throat felt raw and hoarse by the time the game was officially called. The two of you swayed as you descended from the stands, slightly inebriated from your generous swigs, but you didn’t mind. The liquor kept you warm and served as preparation for a night of drinking and debauchery for the common room party. 

Blaise wasn’t at all surprised that you and Pansy pregamed. In fact, he took the flask and downed the rest before tugging his girlfriend towards the castle. 

“Have fun, you crazy kids!”

Zabini chuckled. “Oh, we will. By the way, your boyfriend’s waiting for you in the locker room.” 

With a conspiratorial wink, Blaise wished you good luck as Pansy grinned from ear to ear. You chuckled before making your way over to the locker room. The doors opened, revealing a very smug looking Theo. With a frown, you swatted the back of his head. 

“Ow!” The brunette exclaimed, rubbing his newly acquired injury. “What was that for?” 

“For encouraging my boyfriend to agree to this stupid sex ban.” You crossed your arms and glared at your friend. “I know it was your idea, Theodore.” 

“Hey! We won the game, didn’t we? So obviously, my idea was brilliant.” 

“It was just dumb luck,” you replied with a scoff. “Honestly, I didn’t think you guys would take it so seriously. Especially you. You’re even worse than Mattheo. Celibacy for a week must’ve been hell, huh?” 

Theo shifted his weight, looking abashed. You narrowed your eyes at him as you read the guilt in his body language. “You little weasel! You caved, didn’t you?” 

“There was this really hot Ravenclaw…” 

“With the opposing team, too? You’re shameless, Nott.” 

“Please don’t tell the guys.” He looked genuinely contrite as he pleaded with his eyes. “They’ll murder me if they knew that I couldn’t even stick to my own pact.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, but you owe me big time.” 

Theo smiled before leaning over to kiss your cheek. “You’re the best. I’d say see you at the party, but with how tense and insane your boyfriend has been, I probably won’t see you two for the next few days.” 

“I wonder who’s fault that is.” 

“The pact was my idea. Teasing him was yours. Honestly, he almost stabbed a fork through my hand because you bent over in front of him.” He smirked as he held the door open. “You’ve got that man on a tight leash.” 

You fought a smile. “Leave before I get the urge to hit you again.” Theo nodded, making his way out. “Oh, and congratulations on the win.” 

After a cheeky wink, Theo was gone. Leaving you to find your boyfriend on your own. When you rounded the corner, you could hear the sound of water running echoing off the tiled walls. You ventured farther in the stalls and found Mattheo standing underneath the scalding hot shower, tipping his head back against the spray. With a smile, you leaned against the wall and admired your boyfriend. Merlin, he really was beautiful. 

Mattheo was a sight to behold; biceps flexing, abs taut, and back muscles tense as he washed away the sweat and grime. Your gaze trailed down to his trim waist, licking your lips as your eyes snagged on his backside. The longing sigh you released gave you away. 

Water glistened on his skin as Mattheo looked over his shoulder, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he surveyed you. Your boyfriend didn’t bother covering himself as he sauntered over to you. His chocolate brown eyes roamed over your body, smiling softly when he saw that you were wearing one of his jerseys. Mattheo traced over his surname embroidered right above your heart. 

“The Riddle name looks good on you, mi amor,” he whispered huskily, backing you against the tile. “I can’t wait to make it official one day.” 

You hummed while you tangled a wet curl between your fingers. “Oh? That won’t be happening any time soon, Matty.” Mattheo frowned as you caressed his cheek. “Not with the way you’ve neglected me this week.” 

“Don’t be like that. You know it was hell for me, princesa.” 

“I know,” you said with a grin. “I’m just teasing you. In reality, I’m kind of impressed. You didn’t cave once even when I threw everything I had at you. You were so good, baby. You crushed those Ravenclaws too.” Mattheo groaned as you kissed his jaw, nipping at his sweet spot. “Maybe the pact wasn’t so stupid after all.” 

Your boyfriend groaned as he gripped your hips and pinned you against the wall. “Oh, I won’t be doing that shit again.” Mattheo rested his hand on the base of your throat, eyes black and filled with lust as he squeezed. “It was torture not to touch you.” 

When you spoke, your voice sounded husky and seductive thanks to his possessive hold. “Could’ve fooled me. You seemed perfectly in control. So much so that maybe we should extend it another week. Abstinence really helps clear the mind, doesn’t it, baby?” 

Mattheo chuckled darkly. He knew you were baiting him. You weren’t used to not getting what you wanted in your relationship. Your boyfriend was well aware that he spoiled you rotten. You were going to make him work for it tonight, but he didn’t mind. In fact, the idea thrilled him. He wouldn’t have been dating you if he wasn’t up to the challenge. 

Without warning, Mattheo tugged you into the shower, making you squeal as the water soaked your clothes. He wasted no time before crashing his lips onto yours, claiming you in a starved and possessive way that had you gasping for breath. Your boyfriend was frantic as he hoisted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist. 

Mattheo sucked harshly at your flesh, his dark chuckle a seductive caress against your skin. You groaned as he grinded his cock against your clothed pussy, which was already throbbing and aching for him. “Brace yourself, sweetheart. We have a whole week to make up for and we’re not leaving here until you’re properly punished for teasing me like the little brat that you are.” 

You flashed him a saccharine smile. “Do your worst, baby.” 

“You’ll regret that, mami.” 

With a wicked grin, Mattheo slid your panties to the side and teased along your folds. He hissed when he felt how soaked you were, practically dripping down his fingers as he eased one into your pussy. You bit down on your lip as the delicious pressure awakened a familiar heat in your core. 

“Not so brave now, are you?” Your boyfriend taunted as he slowly fingered you. After going without, you were embarrassed to find that a simple touch was enough to set your teeth on edge. “This is payback, baby. Wearing those tiny little shirts with your lace bra peeking out. Bending over in front of me knowing that you had no panties on. Grinding on my lap and making me so fucking hard that I almost sprained my wrist wanking off in the restroom like a madman.” 

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” You rasped, groaning as Mattheo picked up the pace. “Not if this is what I get in return. I like when you’re rough, Matty. It makes me wet.” 

Your head lolled back as he added another finger, curving them inside of you and reaching that spongy spot that had you seeing stars. 

“Good,” Mattheo whispered as he nibbled at your earlobe. “Because I’m about to fuck you until you can’t walk.” 

The filthy words sent you over the edge. Mattheo flicked his thumb over your swollen clit and you clenched around his fingers. “I can feel you squeezing me, pretty girl. So fucking greedy, hm?” 

You let out a choked moan. Mattheo grabbed your wrist and slid your hand down his front. “Do you feel that, princesa? I’ve been hard as fuck for you all week. Are you gonna be a good girl and help me out?” 

“Yes,” you breathed out. “Let me take care of you, papi.” 

Mattheo twitched in your hand as you gripped him, tugging as he watched you with lust blown eyes. The intensity of his stare made butterflies erupt in your stomach. 

“I thought about this while getting myself off this week. Your hands. Your eyes. Your voice.” 

“I thought about you, too,” you confessed. “But it doesn’t compare to the real thing. God, you’re fucking sexy.” You rubbed your thumb over his tip, rubbing his precum over his head. Mattheo whimpered against your neck. “I missed you whimpering for me.” 

“I don’t whimper,” Mattheo countered. 

You raised a brow and picked up the pace, working him until his eyes rolled back. Despite his denial, Mattheo whimpered even louder this time. 

“You’re playing dirty, baby.” 

“I thought you liked it dirty, Matty.” 

“I do,” he said with a smirk before curving his long fingers inside of you. You shuddered as he hit that sweet spot. “Now come on, pretty girl. Come with me.” 

You nodded, picking up the pace and groaning as Mattheo pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. He licked the roof of your mouth, shuddering as he bucked into your hand. You tugged at him, coaxing him to cum as he panted against your neck. 

“Fuck. Don’t stop, baby. I’m so fucking close.” 

“Me too, Matty,” you whimpered, grinding against his fingers to take more. 

The orgasm crackled over you like a lightning strike, singing your veins with heat as your boyfriend continued to fuck you with his fingers. Mattheo wasn’t satisfied with one orgasm. He coaxed another out of you, laughing as you greedily bucked against his hand, biting into his shoulder while the second wave hit. 

By the time your third orgasm rolled around, you genuinely felt as though you’d left your own body. Mattheo only relented when your eyes rolled back and your legs trembled, cries of his name falling sweetly from your lips. 

“Tú eres dulce como el azúcar.”

You opened your eyes slowly and found Mattheo lapping up your cum, swirling and sucking his fingers clean with a smirk. You’re sweet like sugar. Though the words were seemingly innocent, Mattheo was anything but. Your boyfriend knew exactly how much it turned you on when he spoke Spanish and he was definitely using it to his advantage.

“That was just the appetizer, baby. Got you all warmed up for my cock. Think you can take it, Y/N?” 

“I’ve been waiting all week,” you responded hoarsely. 

“It’s worth the wait,” Mattheo declared cockily as he flipped you over. He stripped you of your clothes, carelessly tossing them behind his shoulder while he positioned your hands on the tiled wall. You groaned as he bent you at an angle, smacking your ass before he lined up behind you. “I promise to fucking ruin you, mi pinche puta.” 

Anticipation coiled in your stomach as Mattheo sank in slowly. Both of you groaned as he slid all the way in, twitching as he stuffed you full. It was familiar yet new at the same time. It had always been a tight fit, but given your involuntary break, you could feel yourself struggling to adjust to his size once again. 

Mattheo gripped your hips, leaving bruises in his wake as he slid all the way out. You whined at the loss, but it wasn’t long before he thrusted all the way back in, knocking the air out of your lungs as he set a punishing pace. You braced yourself against the tile as he spread your legs further apart, allowing him to hit an even deeper angle. 

“Oh fuck, how do you always feel so good?” Mattheo grunted as his hips snapped against your ass, brutally burying himself inside of your pussy over and over again. “You were made for me, princesa. We’re perfect together.”

”Matty, baby, please…”

You keened as Mattheo tugged you by the hair, kissing you sloppily as he continued to ruin you. He cupped your tits, flicking his thumb over your nipples as he squeezed your flesh between his rough, calloused hands. Mattheo kneaded your breasts and used the momentum to drive deeper. His palm trailed down your torso, pressing against your stomach to feel himself moving with each thrust. 

Tears streaked your cheeks as your eyes rolled back. “Oh gods. Fuck me. Right there, baby. You fill me up so good. I love being full of you.” 

“Yeah?” Mattheo drawled as his hand crawled up your throat. “You like when I fuck you rough? Deep down, you just want to be treated like a slut. Don’t you, princess?” 

“I do,” you breathed, groaning as Mattheo squeezed your neck. “But I’m only a slut for you, Mattheo.” 

“Damn fucking right, baby.” He said proudly. “This pussy is mine. All fucking mine.” 

You clenched, squeezing him so tightly that Mattheo felt like he might cum then and there. “So greedy. Milking me fucking dry. God, you’re perfect. Mi princesa, mi vida, mi amor.” Your boyfriend shuddered as you grinded against him, picking up the momentum as the two of you neared euphoria. “That’s it, baby. Just like that. Fuck, I’m gonna cum—“

”Cum inside me, Matty. I want to feel you. I want all of it.” 

Mattheo cursed, his body seizing as he came with a loud cry. The sensation of him filling you to the brim, his hot cum dripping out of you and coating the inside of your thighs was enough to send you over the edge. You trembled as the orgasm hit you all at once and nearly passed out from the sheer force of it. 

Fortunately, strong arms wrapped around you before your legs could give out from underneath you. Mattheo pulled you against him, holding your trembling body as you came down from the high. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as he cleaned you up. Your boyfriend took his time washing your body, taking great care when it came to your sensitive core. 

You smiled up at him as he lathered shampoo into your hair, letting you return the favor and sighing in satisfaction as you scratched his scalp. Mattheo grinned, flashing you a lovesick smile as you rinsed the product out of his hair. 

“I love you so fucking much,” he whispered softly. 

“I love you more,” you countered.

”Impossible.” 

After the two of you dried off, you leaned against the wall and allowed Mattheo to clothe you in his hoodie and sweats. He tied your shoes before giving you a sweet peck. 

“Ready, princesa?” 

You nodded and took his hand. Without the support of the solid wall, your legs wobbled as you struggled to walk. Mattheo caught you around the waist, a smirk tugging at his handsome face. 

“I warned you, Y/N.” He looked entirely too smug and satisfied for your liking. “Told you I’d fuck you until you couldn’t walk.” 

Your boyfriend chuckled as you rolled your eyes. “Poor baby. Don’t worry, mi amor. Let your Matty take care of you, hm?” 

“I take it back. I kind of hate you right now, Mattheo.” 

You squealed as he picked you up bridal style. He didn’t even break a sweat as he carried you across the field. “No, you don’t. But you can fuck me like you do.” 

“Deal.”

[moonpascaltoo]

theodore nott

MASTERLIST • SLYTHERIN BOYS • 07/24/24

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs

theodore nott two

𑣲 the way i loved you I @angelfic

in which theodore nott will do anything to get you to go out with him, but you’re just as stubborn rejecting him

𑣲 lessons in love I @obsessedwithceleste

Ft. Enzo being bad at potions, the Ravenclaw common room door, and more than one accidental love confession.

𑣲 all’s fair in love and quidditch I @/obsessedwithceleste

All’s fair in love and quidditch. At least until Matteo’s poorly aimed bludger knocks you off of your broom.

𑣲 theodore nott and the fortress of trust issues I @/obsessedwithceleste

Theodore Nott had never been able to cast a patronus. In third year, when dementors were swarming the castle, of course he tried, but was never able to manage more than a whisp of soft silver. Come seventh year, he was painfully unsurprised when his efforts were once again lack luster. Turns out, with the right tutor, casting the formidable charm might not be as impossible as he thought.

𑣲 til it’s gone I @/obsessedwithceleste

It seemed like they’d always been there. An ever-growing thorn in Theodore’s side. He really didn’t realize what he’d had until it was gone.

𑣲 mother brother knows best I @/obsessedwithceleste

In which Theodore is no match for the sheer determination of a twelve year old fueled by sugar, pumpkin juice, and spite.

𑣲 fighting fate I @/obsessedwithceleste

soulmate!au in which everyone sees in black and white until they meet their soulmate. Bold of fate to assume it can tell you what to do.

𑣲 jealously I @ahqkas

an unexpected situation catches you off guard in the heart of florence and your boyfriend reveals a side of him you’ve never seen before

𑣲 practice makes it better I @/ahqkas

struggling with the local slang, you feel out of place until you meet theodore nott, the silent slytherin

𑣲 dealer I @/ahqkas

smoking had never interested you before but when the local dealer catches your eye, you might get the experience of a professional

𑣲 the odds of affection I deactivated account

where theodore is grumpy and quiet and when the slytherin’s take note of how he always gives reader forehead kisses, they’re rather shocked.

𑣲 fools I @luv4freddie

in which the only Hufflepuff friend in the group of slytherins develops a crush on Theodore Nott— something only fools do.

𑣲 shut up kiss me I @theostrophywife

𑣲 written in the stars I @/theostrophywife

𑣲 kiss with a fist I @/theostrophywife

𑣲 lovebites and potions I @caramelcal

𑣲 not even the addressee I @kaciebello

When Theodore's name gets misspelled he's not happy about it.

𑣲 the sirens task I @frost-queen

𑣲 the letter I @spectorgram

you get a letter from a secret admirer who wants to confess. your best friend is none too pleased.

𑣲 eyes wide open I @/spectorgram

you discover that there is so much more to theodore nott than you thought. 

𑣲 flustered and blushing I @amourane

in which you're a flustered mess around theo nott and he absolutely adores it.

𑣲 why can’t we love freely I @/amourane

you're tired of being a secret and it was time to let theo know.

𑣲 so this is love I @/amourane

there's a weird feeling that erupts in theo's chest whenever he looks at you and for the first time in his life his mind goes silent.

𑣲 down the rabbit hole I @/amourane

in which it's blatantly obvious that theodore nott has fallen down the rabbit hole of love.

𑣲 little dragon I @retrobutterflies

You are not a fan of one of his admirers and he thinks you are a pretty idiot.

𑣲 i think he knows I @dreamcubed

you had fancied the mysteriously quiet slytherin boy for as long as you could remember (since first year), and, quite frankly, your best friend was sick of you going on about it without ever making a move

𑣲 you need to calm down I @/dreamcubed

after returning to hogwarts for a subsidiary 8th year to make up for the loss of 7th year due to the war, you are a completely different person, and muggle-born-hating theo finds himself obsessed with you

𑣲 tired I @mrsmikaelsxn

you were theo's childhood best friend and he waits for a time when you will love him back

𑣲 try that again I @distantdarlings

Pansy finds out that a group of Gryffindor girls has had a lot to say about you and your relationship with Theodore Nott. They think you won’t do anything about it, but you prove them wrong.

𑣲 house pride I @/distantdarlings

Theo is pissed that you seem to be interested in other guys. The two of you are not officially dating so you find it ridiculous that you can't talk to whomever you want. You have feelings for Theo, though, and think it might be interesting to put his jealousy to the test.

𑣲 by the fireplace I @/distantdarlings

You have been an Animagus for around a year now. You have quite a knack for learning everything you need to know about it quickly and Professor McGonagall really likes you. However, a fellow classmate, Theodore Nott, does not like you. And you couldn't care less. Both of you are in for a surprise when you accidentally meet in the library.

𑣲 one star rating of dirty talking I @darkmagic-s

Sexting through note passing, one of Theodore's favourite ways to bother you.

𑣲 you understand I @lexamiele

Hogwarts students aren't exactly known for minding their own business. Thankfully, you and Theo speak a language they don't.

𑣲 august I @cassiopeiasdaughter

Theo asks you to be his fake-girlfriend but you understand the assignment a little too well.

𑣲 gold rush I @/cassiopeiasdaughter

loving Theo in secret was not something you had ever planned

𑣲 invisible string I @/cassiopeiasdaughter

you get married in the middle of the night during the war

𑣲 i could never not love you I @battinscn

theodore nott is a self sabotaging selfish bastard. he jumps to conclusions too quickly and is too hot headed for his own good. you never thought you would ever be one to experience it first hand. yet, despite it all, you could never find it in you to truly hate him.

𑣲 i hate you I @/battinscn

tate has a very special lucky broom he relies on for every match. when you accidentally step on it, he loses his temper.

𑣲 trust me I @/battinscn

theodore’s always had a hard time trusting other. but you would think being his girlfriend that he would have some faith in you. turns out you were terrible wrong and one day, you had finally reached your limit.

𑣲 missing you I @/battinscn

theodore’s job takes him away from you a lot and hi here understanding for the most part. but after countless broken promises, you had enough.

𑣲 his hufflepuff I @yoursecrett

You were known as the sweetest Hufflepuff at Hogwarts, from tutoring students to being Madam Pomfrey's helper, you were constantly busy you liked it that way... Theodore Nott - The Slytherin Prefect, you had caught his attention, and everyone knows Theodore Nott never gives up on something or someone he wants.

𑣲 sugar rose I @0luv9

Fool in love, bright like silver, shinning for everyone to see. Life has never been this good for Theo and he'll go out of his way to keep it that way. Or Theodore being utterly and unapologetically in love with you.

𑣲 between the shelves I @weasleyreidstyles

𑣲 blind date I @magiclostinfantasy

Y/N and Theo's friends set them up on a blind date, not knowing they've secretly been dating.

𑣲 karma I @wordsarelife

karma is the way you wear his jersey, making sure his team will lose the game

𑣲 moonlight and masks I @gemissleeping

Newly turned Death Eater Theodore Nott is tasked with hunting down Harry Potter and the Order Operative protecting him. Only to discover the person he hunts happens to be the one he loves.

𑣲 anything for you I @aemondsi

in a universe where voldemort won, you and theo risk everything.

𑣲 nonsense I @writingsbychlo

you got that holiday glee from your true love.

𑣲 secret notes I @sunshinelollipopsicle

theodore and you begin leaving notes for each other, you knowing it's him but him unaware it's you, and eventually, you agree to meet in person

𑣲 dreaming of saturn I @thestarsarebrightertonight

theodore nott seems so out of reach to most people yet you have him right in your arms

𑣲 cinnamon girl I @/thestarsarebrightertonight

everyone knows you have a crush on theo , even he knows! so when you randomly start avoiding him one day , theodore cant help but go crazy.

𑣲 seeker I @crimsntwlip

𑣲 clandestine I @puffleyia

Mattheo can not seem to place his finger on what exactly you have been keeping from him. He confides in his best friend, Theo, though he ends up cutting the conversation short due to some urgent matters. (aka, you)

𑣲 for the first time I @vintagebishx

in which, the usual womaniser finds himself in love with a girl who doesn’t even know his name…

𑣲 no smoke, only love in the air I @papercorgiworld

When the guys notice that you don’t like their smoking habit they quit, but dealing with the withdrawal has your boyfriend constantly needy for a kiss.

𑣲 pansys interrogation I @/papercorgiworld

Weird behaviour and rumours have Pansy asking questions and figuring out who the guys are crushing on.

𑣲 theo I @/papercorgiworld

The things Theodore Nott does for love.

𑣲 babysitting I @rainyreading

𑣲 the only heaven i’ll be sent to (is when i’m alone with you) I deactivated account

Best friends get dared to play seven minutes in heaven but they just sit and talk the whole time and somehow manage to admit their feelings for each other

𑣲 our secrets are buried I deactivated account

where they go on a double date with separate dates but they spend the whole time flirting with each other

[slasherbvnnie]

Bewitched

Mattheo Riddle has a secret girlfriend, it's even secret to her

Bewitched Pt II

Reader isn't in a particular house, implies they're not in Slytherin. Reader and all characters mentioned are 18+ and in college! Hogwarts. Probably will be a spicy part 2 ;)

Modern!Harry Potter AU, College!Mattheo Riddle, College!Hogwarts AU

Questions first began to arise before one of Slytherin’s quidditch matches last month, particularly when Mattheo was changing into his uniform and Draco noticed the scratches down his back. The boys teased him over it, questioning him on who was the lucky girl who made them. Mattheo just smiled on and let them try to decipher who it was from his giggles at each attempt they gave.

On the other end, questions circled around you when your friends first began to notice the hickeys that littered your neck, blushed cheeks and meek responses when your friends pressed on knowing who mauled their friend.

It’s not that you were purposely hiding who they were from, you just didn’t want to say who it was from until both of you knew what you were to each other. Mattheo had been there during a party hosted by Gryffindor, things moved pretty quickly that night when you set your eyes on him. He was pleasantly surprised the new transfer student had her gaze set on him, so much so that he didn’t reject her whispers about going back to his secluded prefect dorm. There were some more nights after the first, some more innocent than others, but there was never one important question asked from either side.

You didn’t know if the Mattheo Riddle was open to a relationship, Mattheo Riddle had simply thought you two were already together in his own world. He just simply didn’t kiss and tell.

While you sat in the stands waiting for the quidditch match to start, you were brought to attention when Cormac McLaggen sat next to you. “Excited for the game?” You questioned him as he chuckled, “if its not my own, not much,” he joked as you smiled. “Why aren’t you with the others? I’m sure the rest of your team are betting against Zacharias,” you hummed.

He grinned, “my bets are always against whoever Malfoy is against, doesn’t play fair,” he said before continuing on. “I wanted to spend some time with you for the game, if that’s okay,” he said as your eyes widened in surprise.

“Me?”

“That’s not a problem, is it?” He asked as you shook your head no. “Of course not, I just, well I noticed you talking with Hannah Abbot recently and I assumed…” your voiced trailed off as you looked away for a moment.

“She…ah, we’ve been comparing notes recently. She wants to get in good standing with Slughorn, she says the club seems like fun,” he admitted as you nodded.

“So there's-“

“Nothing between us two, I assure you,” he said with a smile.

Before you turned back to look at Cormac, you noticed the familiar head of curls staring directly at you two. Even from all the way out in the field, you could feel the death glare Mattheo was giving to Cormac. It surprised you, as Mattheo had never shown interest in any others talking to you before, but he now seemed distracted as they were beginning to set up for the match.

You hadn’t waited to talk after the match was over, Cormac walked you back to your dorm after, saying goodbye to you after telling him how you needed to study for your potions exam. He promised to send a letter later that night, to plan an outing in Hogsmeade on the weekend but when the hours passed and no letter was slipped under your door you grew curious.

It wasn’t until one of your roommates came in, going over to your desk. “Be glad we aren’t in slytherin, lost a hundred points earlier,” she said as you looked up from your notebook. “How come?” You asked as you set down your pen.

“Riddle sent McLaggen to Madam Pomfrey,” she said as you stared at her, quickly getting up from your seat.

“Did you hear why?” You asked her as you grabbed your cardigan, put it on quickly, and went to put on your shoes.

“No, but I did hear he spent the afternoon with you. Is Mattheo the one who gave you all those hickeys?” She asked as you rolled your eyes.

“I am not the reason they fought,” you said as you went to the door. “Where’s Riddle now?” You questioned as she took a seat on her bed. “Back in the Slytherin common room, I heard Dumbledore is questioning taking him off the team,” she said as you huffed, opening the door and heading to the dungeons.

When you made it past the password ridden door, you looked around before you saw Pansy taking care of Mattheo’s knuckles as she was scolding him. “Pomfrey said I was ok, Pans,” he grumbled. You made your way over to the couch he was sat on, his eyes on you when he noticed you were near.

“Why are you here?” He asked, “we have an exam tomorrow, you’re always busy the night before,” he said as Pansy looked between you two, dropping Mattheo’s hand as you looked him over.

“I heard what you did, I wanted to know why McLaggen is nearly in a coma from you,” you said, knowing you were exaggerating it a little. Mattheo only laughed as he stood from the couch, heading to his dorm. “It should be obvious as to why,” he said, anger laced in his words. “Obvious?” You questioned as you followed him.

“Yes, I thought it was very clear why. Why else would I risk being kicked off the team?” He stated as he walked faster.

“You are at risk with every fight you’re in. This isn’t even your first fight this month!” You reasoned as he let out a bitter chuckle. “Why did you fight with him, Mattheo? You won today’s game! So why are you so angry?” you questioned him as he stopped and turned to you.

His eyes were watery despite the angered look on his face, “I am angry because my girlfriend is entertaining other guys wanting to go on dates with her when she doesn’t even go with me,” he said as he stared down at you.

“Girlfriend?” You asked, a bit taken back and hurt by his words. You weren’t aware he had a girlfriend. “You never told me you had a girlfriend,” you said, backing away from him.

He blinked, eyebrows burrowed in confusion as he looked down at you. “you’re- you’re the girlfriend. You know that…right?”

You gave him a bewildered look, “me?” you questioned, just as confused as him.

“Yes. I wouldn’t- merlin, I wouldn’t cheat.” He groaned, bringing a hand up to his face, pinching the space between his eyebrows.

“You’ve never asked me to be your girlfriend,” you said, trying to remember if there was a time that he forgot about.

“You have been the only girl I’ve seen for the past month,” he explained. “I thought, I thought when you kept coming back that it meant you were mine.” He said as you shook your head.

“I just thought it was a mutual understanding,”

“An understanding?”

“You know, like, friends with benefits. You never said otherwise. We’ve never been on dates! Even Cormac at least wanted to go on a date,” you said, Mattheo’s face twitching at the mention of another.

“I was going to take you for our anniversary,”

“What anniversary Mattheo? We are not dating!” You explained as he frowned, turning away from you now.

“We aren’t dating,” he said, nodding as he continued to his dorm. “You can have your date at the infirmary with McLaggen then,” he huffed out.

“Mattheo! Mattheo!” You called out, following behind him. You reached for his arm before he quickly shook your hand off.

“Mattheo, I don’t understand,”

The dark haired boy turned around, getting close to your face now. “You seek me out just for fun, come to my dorm nearly every night that you aren’t studying and you think I did not develop feelings for you? On the nights we don’t spend in my dorm, I spend all night in the astronomy tower, in the common room, at the Black Lake, anywhere you want to go for the night. I’ve shared with you about my father and his expectations and you’ve told me about your life and interests and how school was before your transfer and you just think I see you as some girl I only use for sex?” He asked, looking deep into your eyes, his own angered and burning with tears.

“You think I would risk losing my spot on the team over some girl I don’t care about?”

A lump formed in your throat, tears filling your eyes as you stared into his. “Mattheo..” you croaked out, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You haven’t known me for long but I never thought you would take me for someone like that,” He said as he scoffed, almost turned around before you reached for his arm, looking up to him.

“I never, I just thought… I- I don’t know what I thought,” you said slowly.

His face softened, looking away from you for a moment.

“I’m sorry, Mattheo. I just figured, maybe you didn’t want a girlfriend, or that… I don’t know. I truly thought you just wanted to be friends with benefits,” you admitted to him as he nodded.

“I never asked because I was afraid you’d reject me,” he said softly, looking down. “You’re smart and sweet, I thought once you knew about my family, my father…you’d run away,”

“You are not your father,” you said as you looked up at him. “I wouldn’t have said no,” you hummed, catching his attention.

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t have a potions partner if I did,” you teased as he chuckled.

“You really needed to study tonight,” he mumbled before he moved your hand from his hand, lacing his fingers between yours. “I’m sorry for making assumptions,”

“I’m sorry for never asking how you felt,” you said in return, making him shake his head.

“Well….since we’re already here…I do know a way we can make it up to each other,” he said with a smirk, you rolled your eyes.

“You just told me I needed to study,” you said as he grinned, “you do, you still can. I can quiz you,” he said as he leaned in closer.

“You also need to study,” you reminded him as he chuckled. “You’ve been hanging with Granger too much,” he teased as he walked with you, opening the door to his room. “We can study tonight, but tomorrow if you pass, I know a special reward I can give you,” he said as he kissed your neck.

“A reward for me? Sounds like it’s a reward for you,” you mused as he gently bit your neck.

“Are you saying I don’t treat you well? I’ll have to remind you,” he hummed against your skin, making you shiver.

“Down boy, time to study,” you said as you walked over to his desk. He smirked, looking at you before grabbing his books and placing them in front of you. “Go ahead, study,” he hummed sinking onto his knees in front of you. “I’ll be enjoying myself, perks of the top potions student,” he grinned.

[cherrixpie]

HOW NOT TO DATE A SLYTHERIN

part four of five

↬ being harry potter's sister wouldn't make dating theodore nott any easier - which was why you tried to hide it. only, you could only lie to your brother for so long...

↬ sfw; fluff & angst; wc: 5.4k; cw: suggestive, partial nudity; secret relationship trope, potter!reader, griffindor! reader

( masterlist )

The castle was alive with anticipation, the crisp morning air buzzing with excitement of match day. The first quidditch match of the season, Griffindor versus Slytherin, was to take part today. After breakfast, you would join your team on the pitch and -hopefully- win the game. The first game of the season had always been the most nerve wracking to you, but with the new layer of excitement of playing against your secret boyfriend, you were vibrating with anticipation.

As you made your way towards the Great Hall, the sound of distant cheers and chants already echoed from the grounds outside, early fans eager to secure the best seats. Griffindor red and Slytherin green clashed in waves of color as students of either house swarmed towards breakfast. Though you didn't stick out in your quidditch attire that was as scarlet red as the hats, capes and scarfs of the Griffindor fans, the people who noticed you wished you good luck for the match.

Rounding the corner near the staircase, you nearly collided with Theo, who was casually leaning against the stone wall, his broom slung over his shoulder and his emerald scarf lazily wrapped around his neck. You knew he had been waiting for you when your eyes met. After last night, you had been worried your argument would result in a permanent rift between you, but his eyes lit up when they locked with yours.

“Well well,” he drawled, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “If it isn't Gryffindor’s star chaser. Shouldn't you be off practicing some last-minute heroics?”

You pretended to be annoyed rather than filled to the brim with adoration and rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help the small smile that crept onto your face. “Funny. I was just about to ask if Slytherin had finally resorted to bribing Madam Hooch. Seems like the only way you’d stand a chance today.”

Glancing around the deserted booth under the staircase, Theo pushed himself off the wall and strode slowly towards you. You uncrossed your arms to take his hand, and there you stood, brooms in one hand, holding onto each other with the second. Finally, the subtle smile reached Theo’s eyes as he played with your fingers. “You’ll be great today.”

“You too,” you smiled with exhilaration and took a step closer. Your eyes darted around the small space nervously, but there was no one to see you. So you stood on your tip toes and pecked Theo’s lips softly. What you hadn't anticipated was Theo jolting and surging at you, chasing your retreating lips until he had them locked in a soft caress of his own. A surprised moan escaped you and Theo chuckled softly into your mouth. One hand held your jaw still as he kissed you senseless, the other trailed down to toy with the hem of your jersey.

Kisses with Theo were always a careful mix of fervent passion on your part and disciplined control on his. It was no different now, as Theo lead the kiss, caressing all the right places, balancing that perfect combination of tender and dominating. You fisted your hands in his shirt and pulled him impossibly closer. Suddenly, a cool hand closed around both your wrists, yanking them away and over your hand, making you stumble as your back hit the wall. One of Theo’s hand held your wrists in place over your hand, the other lifted your chin to gain access to your neck.

“Tesoro,” he sighed against your skin, “let me give you a good luck token for the match.” You knew what he meant, and your suspicions were only confirmed when you saw the hungry look in his eyes. You twitched under his heavy gaze and his eyes grew impossibly darker. “Theo… no one can see.”

When he used his index finger to draw a line down your throat towards your collar bone, he left a row of goosebumps in its wake that he took in with great satisfaction. The soft material of your quidditch uniform gave in to his pull as he exposed part of your cleavage. “They won't,” he promised in an impossibly soft voice. “I’ll do it where nobody can see.”

You could barely hear your whispered “okay” over the thundering of your heart beat. The fear of being caught paired with the thrill of anticipation and his dark, hungry eyes culminated in the uncontrollable beating of your heart against your ribcage, as if it wanted to escape from your body, to seek shelter in the meticulous hands of your lover.

Theo dipped his head down to the exposed skin of your cleavage and left a trail of pecks before he found a suitable spot. Biting down on it, he relished in the little gasp it elicited from you. As Theo worked diligently on perfecting the mark, you slipped your hands from his grip and buried them in his dark locks. In response, Theo let out a small groan and lifted his head, tugging up your jersey with a satisfied little smirk. “Now you’re ready.”

During breakfast at the Griffindor table, you kept tugging at your jersey to a point when Hermoine asked wether you were okay. You stocked it up to performance anxiety. When Harry, Ron, Ginny and you left for the quidditch pitch, several people all over the table patted you on the shoulders. Their shouted wishes of luck followed you all the way out of the Great Hall and down the grounds toward the stadium, where you were joined by the rest of the team.

Harry didn't bother with much of a speech, but after yesterday’s brawl, he seemed determined to wipe the smirk off of Malfoy’s face. A notion you couldn't object to. After revising your strategy, the team stepped out onto the pitch, where the Slytherins and Madam Hooch were already waiting. The hollers and booing of a green and red mass of people drowned out any other noise, like the splatter of rain.

The snowfall of the day before had been replaced by a thick rain that made it almost impossible to see farther than a few feet. Not very favorable conditions. You could barely make out Theo within the midst of the Slytherin players. Harry and Malfoy shook hands with particulars nasty scowls on their faces, before you all mounted your brooms and shot up into the rainy mist above. Madam Hooch released the quaffel, Ginny got a hold of it and the game was on.

It was almost impossible to differentiate between friend and foe when your vision was clouded by rain and mist. Your only reconciliation was that the Slytherins weren't any better off than you. It took at least ten minutes for the first goal by Slytherin that had only succeeded because an exasperated Theo had given up on the attempt to pass the Quaffel around as it would be inevitably lost to the mist or a Griffindor player, and did a lucky solo run, completely catching Ron off guard.

After some more failed attempts from both sides, Ginny finally managed to goal for Griffindor. You as well, a few minutes later, because one of Slytherin’s beaters flew into you full force, vision obstructed by the downpour, and Madam Hooch granted a free kick to you. But soon after that, Slytherin had the lead once more. As the game went on, it became increasingly hard to keep track of the score. Though you were pretty sure your team had earned sixty points, you had no idea how many goals Slytherin had. By now you were shaking and clattering your teeth and your hands felt frozen to your broom. If Harry didn't catch the snitch soon, you’d get frostbite.

Nobody flew in formation or followed strategy anymore. When Theo flew past you with the Quaffel, quickly approaching the rings, you took up the chase. You had lost sight of your third chaser for a while now, but you managed to attract Ginny’s attention, who followed you hot on your heels. Seeking cover, you let yourself drop to a few feet under Theo but did not lessen your speed. Waiting until he was only a short distance away from the rings and raised his hand with the Quaffel to dunk it into one of them, you made a sharp turn upwards.

It was risky, but you played on his protective instincts. Theo sensed an approaching figure and lowered his arm. You, on the other hand, shot towards him perpendicularly and caught him off guard. To avoid a collision which he -other than you- would have been able to pull through, Theo turned his broom in a rapid motion. Ginny used the opportunity to knock the Quaffel out of his hands. You caught it, locking eyes with a startled Theo for a split second, and the two of you set off in the direction of the Slytherin rings.

Steering your broom through green and red flashes, you accelerated your speed. Wherever your beaters were, they were doing a fantastic job, as you and Ginny passed through the Slytherins without any bludgers knocking you off your brooms, passing the Quaffel back and forth. When the rings came into sight, you took the lead, shielded your face against the rain to aim and threw the ball. It hit. But another thing hit, too.

WHAM

A sudden pain shot through your body and your hands slipped off your broom. It was so horrible you must have screamed, but your head and senses were numb and unresponsive. You were vaguely aware that the pain originated from your stomach region. That was all, before your body failed you and you could feel yourself falling into darkness.

“Open your eyes, idiota!”

You snapped your eyes open and the first thing you saw was Theo, hovering over you. Just then, you realized he was holding you in his arms and kneeling on the ground of the quidditch pitch. It could have only been a few seconds you blacked out, but judging by the stings and aching all over your body, as well as the fact you were lying beside the stands, you had knocked into the wooden wall of the stands in your fall, where he must’ve caught you. Oh crap. Theo had caught you.

“Get off!” you hushed, scrambling back to your feet even as pain shot through your body at the slightest movement. A particularly nasty ache made you stumble and Theo caught you once more, frowning at you. “Where does it hurt? Where did it hit you?” Oh, right. It must've been a bludger at last. “Can you hear me?” Theo asked and you registered the worry laced into every syllable. Raw, unconcealed fear.

“Y-yeah,” you gritted through clenched teeth and clawed at your side where the bludger had made its impact. It must've been shot from short distance, because rarely had a bludger hit hurt this bad. “Midriff, left side.”

When his hand brushed over the hurting spot, you let out a whimper of agony and Theo quickly retracted it. If it hadn't been for the pain clouding your mind, you’d have teased him for his visible distress. “Where's my broom?” you choked out and Theo looked at you incredulously. “You’re going to Madam Pomphrey, Tesoro. Now.”

“What?” you exclaimed, vaguely aware of voices approaching. You didn't have much time. “No, Theo, I need to play! One of my chasers has taken off, you’ll win! Wait, is that why you’re-”

“Cazzo , Tesoro,” Theo cursed, sending wary glances to the side. “I don't care about winning, I’ll throw the match with you if that's what it takes.”

Suddenly, a familiar voice shouted your name and Theo’s face hardened as Hermoine reached you, looking concerned and rather disheveled. “Are you okay? Madam Pomphrey is on the way.” Obviously under the impression that Theo was harassing you, she gave him a sinister scowl. “What are you doing here, Nott?”

Theo, who’d settled for a mask of indifference once more, let out a mere “tch”, set you down on the grass with a suspicious precariousness, and reached for his broom when-

“HARRY POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH!” the commentator roared and you breathed out a sigh of relief. About time. “GRIFFINDOR WINS!” announced the speakers and even through the slashing and splashing of the rainfall, your ears were thrumming at the hollers and shouts from the Griffindors.

Though you couldn't see them approaching, soft thuds announced the arrival of your teammates around you. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Theo walk over to his team where he ran into a furious Malfoy, gesticulating heatedly. “Are you okay?” Ginny asked as she and Harry kneeled down to your level. “That damn bludger,” Harry cursed, still holding the snitch. “That Slytherin beater hit you from a few feet distance, Madam Hooch should’ve given him a reprimand!”

“I’m okay,” you assured them and stood up shakily. Hermoine helped you support your weight. “Great job,” you told your brother, ruffling his unruly hair. “I was beginning to think we’d send an imposter in your place.” Even Harry laughed, though he still looked very disconcerted. “What was that guy Nott doing? Did he hex you?”

Oh, most certainly, yes.

“He caught me,” you said in a neutral voice, as if the mere mention of his name didn't have your stomach do cartwheels. Sceptical expressions surrounded you, but they all shrugged it off- all except Ginny. “I’d have gone after you,” she explained apologetically, “But Nott was shooting down like damn lightning and I didn't want to get in the way of that.”

“Weird guy,” you said in an effort to diffuse Hermoine's suspicious look. Harry stepped forward to support your weight, but you let go of Hermoine to demonstrate your walking ability. “I’m fine, I’m okay, just a little bruised up.”

Indeed, none of the others seemed very eager to concentrate on your injuries. Everyone was in the mood for celebration as they changed out of their quidditch robes, already planning the winners party. As they walked out one after the other, you volunteered for cleaning duties, an unpopular job, especially after a won match. “I’ll be there in ten,” you shouted after your brother and Ron leaving for the castle and shut the door.

With a pained groan, you sat down on one of the benches. You hadn't even changed yet, in fear of what you would find on your stomach. Earlier, Madam Pomphrey had cleared you while muttering about the dangers of Quidditch. She had recommended murtlap essence, and you checked the medical closet for it. You found a bottle of the potion and set it down on the bench. The sound of the pouring rain still pelting the roof of the changing room filled the quiet hair as you reached for the hem of your jersey, wincing as your shoulder protested the movement. You thought you were alone- until a quiet knock on the doorframe behind you made you freeze.

“Do you always take this long after a match, or are you just stalling?”

Theo's voice was low, but it carried a certain edge that hindered the casual tone. As you tugged your jersey down in a haste, you spun around to see him leaning against the doorframe. His hair was still damp from the rain, the dark locks were clinging to his forehead. The faintests of smiles tugged at his lips, but it was a little grim, matching the somber look in his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” you repeated the words you’d been echoing for the last half hour. You hoped a convincing smile would ease his nerves, but his gaze only sharpened when your casual shrug made you wince. “Don't lie to me, tesoro,” Theo said softly, drawing closer to you. He came to a halt and you frowned at the pained look in his eyes. “Bell is a maledetto coglione, Voleva ucciderti? Non hai idea di quanto desiderassi farlo cadere dalla scopa!”

Theo seemed to talk himself into a rage, rambling on in Italian as his careful hands brushed over your chin down your arms, inspecting your bruises and cuts. You wouldn't deny that you loved to hear him talk Italian, especially when his quiet voice was brimming with controlled fury. Fiddling with the hem of your jersey, you searched for his eyes but he didn't meet yours. “Theo?” you asked, locking your fingers so he would stop with his inspection. “Don't put Bell in the hospital wing again, yeah?”

Theo glared at you and freed his hand to guide you down onto the bench. “Take off your shirt.” Even though it was a purely practical request, you felt a surge of excitement and nervousness. You froze for a second, then held onto the hem of your jersey and attempted to pull it over your head, but flinched at the pain. Theo helped you, carefully prying it off of you.

Theo’s hands froze the moment the jersey slipped over your head, leaving your skin bare save for the bruises blooming across your ribs and shoulders. His usual sharp retorts or smirking comments were conspicuously absent as his eyes lingered, first on the angry purple marks and then, almost hesitantly, on the soft curve of your body.

He swallowed hard, his fingers brushing your arm lightly as if unsure where to look or how to act. “You’re… very hurt,” he murmured finally, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it, but there was a flicker of something else -something unspoken- flickering in his gaze before he quickly turned his attention back to the task at hand. He reached for the murtlap serum, grabbing the air at first attempt before pulling himself together and seizing the bottle and a cloth.

No words were exchanged as he started tending to your bruises, first the large one on your midriff that was the color of an angry red. When his soft fingers, dapped in murtlap essence, touched your skin, you took a sharp inhale and breathed rapidly. Theo could have smothered himself for the lingering of his eyes on your chest. He attempted to keep his focus on you and started treating the bruise.

You felt the relief of pain in an instant and sighed. “Thanks, Theo.” A light grunt was all you got in response, but the tender care of his fingers was answer enough. Though the murtlap was cool, his his touch left you uncomfortably warm and you tried not to squirm under his deft fingers.

The topic of intimacy was still a shy topic in your relationship. You knew his prior liaisons had been primarily sexual. Thus, you avoided the topic, seeing as your experience was almost none next to his. In any of your relationships, you had never gone beyond kissing and making out, and didn't know wether Theo even knew you were a virgin, let alone wether he’d want to have sex with you after hearing it. Theo had never initiated anything either, seeming perfectly content with your relationship as it was. But you couldn't deny the occasional hunger, the daydreams, the not so innocent thoughts.

Theo’s voice caught your attention. His brows were furrowed as he worked on your scratches from the fall. “Should’ve kept looking out for bludgers, cara. Stupid gryffindor recklessness.” When you recognized the worry in his voice, you smiled and ran a hand through his damp hair. “I’ll make sure to do that.” He seemed content and locked your fingers. “Shirt goes on again, tesoro.”

The itching when you pulled your shirt over your head was nothing compared to the pain from before. As your eyes appeared over your collar once more, you saw Theo had stood up and was putting the murtlap essence back to its place of origin with a lot more fuzz than the task required. Maybe it was just your imagination playing tricks on you, but he seemed to avert his eyes and avoided to look at you.

Before you could contemplate this, Theo had turned around once more and handed you your cloak. “We should get back to our teams before our absence is noticed.” You would have liked to say something to diffuse the light hint of bitterness in his voice, but Theo gave you a calming smile and was out of the door in an instant. Still, the rain brewed up a symphony on the roof of the changing rooms, but your own thoughts sounded too loud for you to notice.

The Gryffindor common room was a cacophony of sound and color, the flickering firelight mingling with enchanted banners that decked the walls in red and gold. Laughter and cheers echoed from every corner, the victorious chants of your teammates nearly drowning out the music. The smell of butterbeer wafted through the room, mixing with the damp, earthy scent of post-match rain that still clung to everyone’s robes.

You smiled faintly as Seamus led an exaggerated reenactment of the game on a table, nearly knocking over a platter of snacks, but the sheer noise of it all pressed against your temples, leaving you torn between wanting to join the celebration and retreating to somewhere quiet. When Seamus started pulling out fireworks, you slipped out of the room through the portrait hole for a quick withdrawal.

Knowing that some of the others, including your friends, had sneaked down to the kitchens to supply the party with more butterbeer and snacks, you took the path down to the dungeons. Though you tread lightly to avoid detection by Filch or Mrs Norris, the sound of your footsteps echoed of the walls as you hurried down the stairs. It was wonderfully quiet, a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the Griffindor common room, and you relished in the fresh, cool air that turned more moist the deeper you went.

Just as you were about to turn around a corner, you collided with a hard chest. Your prior speed made you stumble and you fell, closing your eyes and shielding yourself for the impact. It didn't come. Opening your eyes, your were met with the infamous raised eyebrow of Theodore Nott, hovering only inches above you. You could be slapped yourself for the breathless “Hi” that escaped you, but it made his lips curl with cold amusement. “Hello, tesoro, where are you off to in such a haste?”

“Kitchens,” you said sheepishly as he pulled you back up and steadied you on your feet. Theo threw a quick glance around the corridor before he slipped his hands into his pockets and switched to a more relaxed stand. Under his heavy gaze, you played with your fingers, trying not to think about the way he had been looking at you in the changing rooms “I forgot to tell you before, you played good,” Theo complimented you softly.

“Thanks,” you smiled. It was a weird situation. Usually, the two of you only talked like this in secret corridors, abandoned classrooms, locked broom cupboards or the astronomy tower, not out in the open. But it was night, and you supposed it was fine. And even if… You had been contemplating it ever since your argument yesterday. Would it be the end of the world if you just talked to Harry and the others about it? Even if they disapproved, you didn't want Theo to feel like an accessory, and sneaking around was not as fun as you thought.

Theo seemed to sense your thoughts had wandered off elsewhere and stepped towards you until your chests almost touched. When he flicked your forehead, you flinched and swatted his hand away. “Hey!”

“What are you thinking about?” Theo asked in a soft but demanding tone. You sighed. “Nothing.” But Theo was not thrown off the scent so easily. Deliberate hands wandered to your hips as he prepared for the attack, but you were faster. You gripped the collar of his shirt, pulled him down by it and kissed him.

The reaction was immediate. You were pulled flush against his body, his hands roamed under your shirt to your bare back making you shudder. “Jeez, Nott, your hands are ice cold,” you mumbled between kisses, but Theo pushed you back against the wall and seized your lips, swallowing every sound, every whimper that fell from them eagerly. You noticed that he avoided your bruised spots as his hands trailed over your bare skin and couldn't help the rush of affection that surged through you at his care.

“Someone could see us,” Theo muttered into the kiss, but you merely whimpered needily and buried your hands in his soft curls. “Then they see us.” The answer seemed to spur him on. It was as if it had awakened some primal part of him, tucked away behind his usual composure. The kiss turned messy as your lips clashed into each other without the usual rhyme and reason. When your eyes met his for a split second, you saw the dark hunger swirling inside them and breathed in shakily. It only seemed to spur him on even more as his head dipped back down and you felt his thigh coming up between your legs, eliciting a pathetic little whimper from you.

“What the bloody hell is going on here?”

Theo and you surged apart, or rather, you scrambled away and he made sure you didn't trip and fall in your haste to put some space between the two of you. Harry, Ron and Hermoine, as well as some other embarrassed looking griffindors, stood a few feet away from you, having just rounded the corner. Their arms were full of pastries, snacks and bottles of butterbeer and lemonade, safe for Harry's, who seemed to have dropped his load at the sight of you and Theo.

“What's it look like I'm doing?” you asked, chest heaving and hair probably a mess. Glancing at Theo, you saw he had leaned against the wall, watching Harry with sharp eyes. The message was clear. He left it up to you to resolve this, but the second Harry stepped over the line, he was a goner.

Your brother shook his head wildly, as if he couldn't believe what was happening and planned to shake the image out of his memory. He called your name incensedly. “Tell me I didn't just see you snogging Theodore Nott in the dungeons.”

With a quick glance at Theo, you decided it was all in. “Would you rather have me snog him in the astronomy tower?” you asked, a hint of sass creeping into your tone. “Because that's what I've been doing for the last months.” Ron and Hermoine looked at each other incredulously, but Harry looked straight up furious as he kicked the pastries aside to step closer to you. When you saw the look in his eyes and caught Theo's slight movement in the corner of your eye, you suddenly began to worry about an altercation between the two. An altercation that, with all your love for him, Harry had no chances of winning.

Harry had caught Theo’s movement as well and turned to him abruptly. “If you think I’m going to stand by and let this happen, you’ve got another thing coming.” You could've kissed Theo for remaining where he stood without blinking, leaving it up to you to resolve this. “Look, Harry,” you tried the diplomatical route. “Would you just listen to m-”

“Do you even know who he is? What he stands for?” Harry cut you off. You were hit with the sudden realization that the footsteps of multiple people were drawing closer, and indeed, a group of Slytherins that had been awoken by the sudden noise appeared in the hallway next to you, watching the conflict with great interest. “I know perfectly well-” you tried to answer but again, Harry didn't let you finish. “His father is a death eater! What, does that excite you?”

“Excuse me?” you hissed and saw Theo shift slightly. “Are you even listening to yourself right now, Harry?” But he probably wasn't. Your brother looked just about ready to tear down walls and you began to doubt wether you could even reason with him about this. “That's a horrible thing to say,” you shot back, folding your arms over your chest. “And Theo’s not his father.”

“Theo? Oh yes?” Harry said angrily, ignoring Hermoine tugging at his robes in an effort to calm him down. “He's just as bad as the rest of them, I don't know how you could be this naive!”

“Is it impossible for you to even entertain the possibility that I can look out for myself?” You hadn't realized you were shouting now as well. “Would you, just for one second, consider that I have a mind and a life of my own? That I can be trusted to make decisions in my life without you chiming in and questioning them?” Your breathing was labored and you tried to calm down, lowering your voice. “Why can't you accept that this was my choice, and it's a valid one? Why would you think you know Theo better than me? Do you think I can't trust my judgement, that I'm just a love-sick, hysterical, stupid schoolgirl who can't descipher reality and delusion?”

“Maybe you are!” Harry bellowed and you flinched, a sudden wave of hurt crashing down on you.

“You say that again,” a voice, soft and eerily composed, said, “and you’ll regret it.” The words hung gravely in the air as everyone, including the groups of Griffindors and Slytherins, stared at Theo, stunned by the both deliberate and utterly terrifying tone of his voice. But the speechlessness didn't last long.

“After everything we’ve been through,” Harry hissed at you, hurt brimming in his eyes, “this is how you repay me? By sneaking around with him?” His fists were clenched at his sides and he paid no attention to Hermoine's pleas to just leave.

“This isnt about you,” you breathed, aghast at his nerve, “This is about me. For once, this is just about me! God, Harry, why are you being so self-centered? This has nothing to do with you!”

“It has everything to do with me!” Harry shouted, stepping even closer. “I just don't get how you could be so stupid! You think he cares about you? He’s a Slytherin- he’s probably using you!” His words were hurtful and they stung worse than the bruises from earlier, but Harry wasn't done yet. “What happens when he gets bored of you? Have you thought about that? If you think Theodore Nott is interested in you, you’re even more naive than I thought.”

You knew he didn't mean it that way. But it still hurt you. This assumption that Theo could never like you for you, could never be interested in you apart from the fact that you were Harry Potter’s sister. That there was nothing about you that made you special, or lovable. That you had no idea what you were doing and no agency of your own. Just a stupid little girl fooling around with something she didn't understand. He was wrong. You told it to yourself over and over in your head as you stared at him silently, watching his anger shift into something else. He was wrong, Theo liked you. Right? But what did he like about you? What was there about you?

You hadn't realized you were crying, you only registered it when Theo himself stepped forward. Apart from the most threatening death glare you had ever seen from him, he didn't attack Harry. His attention was fixed on you, as if he was waiting for your command. But you could only stand there, under the eyes of your classmates, as tears ran down your face.

Harry seemed to realize now what he had said and took a step forward, but you took one back and let out a dry laugh. No words came out. Even if you had some to shoot back, defend Theo or stand up for yourself, they wouldn't have made it past the lump in your throat. Swallowing hard, you took another step back, then another, and before you knew it, you were fleeing up the stairs, ignoring the shouts behind you. You didn't know wether they were directed at you, or Harry, or Theo. You only wanted to get away.

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[mosquego359]

One Kiss and a Quidditch Match — Prologue

Pair: Cedric Diggory x Male Slytherin Reader

Word count: 717 words

Summary of the book: You and Cedric Diggory hate each other. It has always been this way. But everything changes one night when you kiss each other at a party. Now, it seems you can’t escape each other — from being partnered up in Herbology for an important project to having to help Cedric during the Triwizard Tournament.

Summary of the chapter: Before the Quidditch Match of 1990-1991, you and Cedric never talked, never acknowledged each other's presence. But because of that loss, he hated you.

Notes: This is my first Cedric fanfic so please forgive me for any OOC moments. Also, I've changed a few things about Hogwarts like adding a couple extra holidays and new locations such as the all houses lobby on the first floor where everyone can hang out.

Content warning: There is nothing in this chapter but there is violence and cursing in the rest of the book. I may also write a few sexual scenes if people request it.

!PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE WITHOUT PERMISSION OR CREDITS TO ME!

...

Cedric hated you. And thus, you hated him.

It was like an endless circle of hatred; one cannot hate without the other, just as flowers cannot live without bees and vice versa. Every glare from his end was met by a cocky victory smirk from you whenever your team won a quidditch game, and every time he scored a point higher than you during a test, he would flaunt his success while you would grind your teeth in frustration.

It wasn’t always this competitive. In fact, before your 2nd year, he never talked to you and you barely knew he existed. In the past, you were ghosts, walking past one another without glare or snarky remarks.

That all changed when Slytherin was up against Hufflepuff in the 1990-1991 Hogwarts’ Quidditch Tournament. At the time, Cedric had been assigned as a backup whenever the Keeper got hurt, since the team was unaware of his flying talent.

Near three quarters through the game, the current Keeper, a 6th year called Richard Chiswick, was hit by a particularly violent Bludger (no doubt a Slytherin cast a spell on it) and was forced to sit out for the rest of the match, while Cedric replaced him.

He was by no means an excellent Keeper, but he wasn’t necessarily bad either — quick reactions and a keen eye were a superb advantage for him as a Quidditch player — but one Slytherin always managed to slip in a goal even when his concentration was at its highest.

You, the prodigy Slytherin Chaser. The one who had been scoring point after point for your team. You were incredible.

You would zoom in the air, dodging Hufflepuff after Hufflepuff, Quaffle tucked under your arm. Soaring across the field, you were beauty, you were grace, and you would “accidentally” kick players in the face.

Every time you had the Quaffle, ready to make a goal, Cedric would tense up, ready to block any and all of your attacks. You were, however, much too rapid for him, so whenever you would try and score a goal unless your aim was wack, you’d constantly grant your team those 10 glorious points. He was baffled at your capabilities, never expecting someone the same age as him to have so much raw talent. Or was it just that you already knew how to play?

An hour in, Slytherin were 150 points ahead of Hufflepuff, standing at almost 400 points and you had the Quaffle. The Hufflepuff Seeker had spotted the Snitch and was racing against time to snatch it out of the air and deprive you of the 10 points that would mark Slytherin’s victory.

The Seeker was mere inches away from ending the game but you were quicker — swiftly launching the Quaffle, the spherical object curving through the air. 

Cedric desperately raced to stop it, extending his arm to block it but either he was too late or miscalculated the trajectory — the ball whooshed past him and into the goal area. 

Not even a second later, the Hufflepuff Seeker caught the Golden Snitch.

It was over; the game was over. Slytherin won by 10 points and it was Cedric’s fault. All his fault, just because he couldn’t block that stupid Quaffle!

The Chasers on his team scored 230 points total and the seeker had caught the Snitch but despite all that effort, they still lost. Because of him…

The next few moments were a blur of reassurances from his teammates, booing from most of the crowd, and a booming echo of cheers from the winning house’s spectators. Cedric wasn’t focused on any of those distractions, though; all he could see was you.

A big, goofy grin was spread across your sweaty face, gums showing and teeth not touching. You were out of breath and surrounded by a sea of Slytherins — particularly younger students — laughing and hugging you, some jumping with joy and others slinging their arms around your shoulders or patting your back in congratulation.

A cold feeling enveloped Cedric’s typically good-natured heart. He hated you. He hated you for that win, for making him seem incapable, and for looking so happy about it. 

A fire in his soul ignited. He wanted to crush you, squash whatever pride you would ever have and wipe that annoying smile off your face.

...

Thank you for reading, please comment any suggestions you have or any issues I should fix.

Chapter 1

[fleurdeladore]

dating george weasley . . . 💭

✧ his love language is acts of service. peeling oranges for you, holding his hand over sharp corners so you don’t hit your head, pouring your drink before he pours any for himself, and yes — he knows the sidewalk rule. you’ll even find that things you had mentioned needing to do will be done by the time you get around to it. he enjoys helping you anyway he can.

✧ he just has a romantic soul. molly raised him to be a gentleman, and that’s what he strives to be for you.

✧ he carves your name / initials into his broomstick. during quidditch matches, he will always keep an eye out for you in the stands, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t try to show off a bit for you.

✧ he will always lend you his clothes, but especially if you’re in a different house because seeing his favorite slytherin in gryffindor colors makes him all giddy no i’m not projecting.

✧ alternatively, he will constantly try to steal your clothes, wearing your shirt right in front of you like it belonged to him.

✧ he remembers everything about you. your favorite color? your childhood pets name?? the one very niche book you only mentioned once??? all of the above (and you will absolutely be finding that book in his bedroom after the fact).

✧ he loves just being close to you. he’s not overly touchy, but if you’re sitting together, his arm or knee is brushing against yours, or if you’re standing in the hallways, he’s standing behind you with his chin on top of your head or your shoulder.

✧ so much playful banter. he will constantly flirt with you like he isn’t already dating you, and if he makes you blush, you will never hear the end of it until he starts blushing and you get to tease him for it.

✧ he’s the slightly more shy twin (which isn’t saying much when you look at fred), so he will get bashful if you compliment him enough.

✧ he isn’t huge on public displays of affection.

✧ grand gestures are a big deal for him, however. leaving love notes in your textbooks, running straight to you after winning a quidditch match to lift you up and spin you around, waking up extra early to meet you outside your common room every morning (or in front of the fireplace for the gryffindors out there).

✧ when he kisses you, he always cups your face with his soft hands (surprisingly soft for a quidditch player, may i add).

part 1 / ?

[gogogodzilla]

Helloo, i love how u write and this is my first time requesting so i hope u don't mind.

What abt reader giving harry head after a stressful day at quidditch? I imagine it like he whimpers and sorts.

Thank you!! <33

All to You || Harry Potter

harry james potter x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, facefucking, oral sex, gagging, both harry & reader are of age, slight dirty talk note: thank you for the request anon, and thank you everyone for 2k followers!!!!! <3 ✩ masterlist ✩

The roar of the crowd rivals the crack of thunder and the wind that howls throughout the quidditch stadium. Rain trickles down your forehead and you crane your head to catch a glance of your favorite scarlet uniform flying in slow, calculated circles high above the rest of the players. 

Tension crackles through the air as the match progresses, with each team trying desperately to get ahead. The bludgers seemed even more aggressive than usual, which, combined with the pounding rain and lower visibility, leads to some close calls that had your heart skipping a beat. 

There’s a shift in the air as Harry goes into a steep dive. The crowd erupts into cheers and gasps, and time seems to slow as he rapidly nears the ground. Milliseconds pass, and he reaches out a hand, ready to close around the golden snitch. You hardly have enough time to utter the first syllables of a warning before a bludger comes sailing through the air and into his side. You can’t tear your gaze away as he spins out of control, struggling to regain his balance. 

He reaches the ground hard, and you cringe as he rolls across the pitch. The Slytherin seeker seizes the opportunity and catches the snitch in their grasp. The other side of the stadium is a cacophony of cheers as silver and green banners sail through the air. A wave of dejection rolls across the Gryffindor section, and you sink into your seat. 

Slowly, the stadium clears as the Slytherin teams and their supporters celebrate their win. Mud squelches under your boots as you make your way across the pitch. Harry stands slightly away from the rest of his team, his broom clutched tightly in his hand. 

You call his name softly as you approach. He doesn’t look up as you take his hand in yours. 

“Sorry you had to see that,” he says after a moment. 

Your gaze softens as you look at him and lightly squeeze his hand. “Let’s get out of the rain,” you murmur, gently tugging him toward the locker rooms. 

As you enter, you wave your wand, drying your clothes as you walk toward his locker. It does little to ease the chill that seeps into your bones, and a shiver runs down your spine. Harry quickly pulls his uniform top over his head and digs around his locker for his clothes. The sight causes a different kind of shiver to course through you. 

You lean against the locker beside his, pressing your back against the cool metal. “Are you doing okay? That was some hit you took,” you question as your gaze drags down his abdomen. 

He glances in your direction, and a grin spreads across his features as he notices what’s drawn your attention. He raises a brow as your eyes meet his, and you purse your lips.

“Wanna make it feel better?” he teases as he pulls a sweater over his head. 

You step forward and wrap your hands around his waist, spinning him to face you. Your hands dip under his sweater and splay across his torso. He tenses under your touch, hissing softly as your fingers graze against his injured side. 

You look up at him through your eyelashes, and his breath shudders for a moment before he nods. Slowly, you use one hand to push up his sweater, taking in the blooming bruise against his ribcage. 

You sink to your knees and drag your lips across the exposed skin on his stomach. Your free hand wanders across his thigh as you trail kisses down his abdomen. You trace your tongue just above his hips, pressing sloppy kisses against the skin just above his waistband. 

You rest your cheek against his hip as your hands wander across the growing tent in his pants. Harry’s breath quickens as you pop the button on his pants and slowly, agonizingly tug his zipper down. 

You dip a hand into the waistband of his briefs and release his cock from its confines. You wrap your hand around his cock, giving it a few tentative strokes. You’re practically drooling at the sight, and Harry whimpers as you twist your wrist with each pass over his length. 

You look up at him as you bring your lips to his cock, pressing featherlight kisses along his shaft. You take him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the leaking head of his cock. Harry bites his lip, stifling a groan as he leans his head back. 

He reaches down and gently tangles his fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck, guiding you as you begin bobbing your head. You steadily take more and more of him while your hand strokes what you can’t reach with your tongue. 

Harry moans and whimpers out honey sweet praises as you have him at your mercy. You rest your palms against the back of his thighs, beckoning him closer. He’s quick to indulge you as he matches the bobs of your head with a quick thrust of his hips. The head of his cock reaches the back of your throat and you gag around him. Harry pulls back just long enough for you to catch your breath before he’s urging his cock down your throat once more. 

It brings tears to your eyes, and Harry cups your face, wiping your cheek as he does. 

“Doing so good for me, love,” he praises, his voice breathy and strained. “So — fuck, so fucking good.” 

With a few quick thrusts of his hips, he’s cumming with a strangled groan. He releases his hold on you as his orgasm washes over him, and you bob your head around him, milking him for every last drop. 

Whimpers escape Harry as the feeling of your lips around him becomes too much for him to bear, and he gently tugs you off of him. He tucks a stray hair behind your ear before pulling you up and capturing your lips in a kiss. 

You pull away, “Feel better?” 

“Much better,” he replies, grinning. 

[miryum]

An arranged marriage with James Potter

Something had happened over the summer that made James Potter the most love-sick fool in all of Hogwarts. Purebloods being purebloods, it wasn’t uncommon for children to be paired up early on to secure the bloodline. While this happened mostly between the old-arching Slytherin families, an example being Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black, every once in a while, the other houses would participate too. 

Such was the case with James Potter and Y/n L/n. The L/n’s had spanned generations, stretching back to even the Gaunt’s time. But, such as the Gaunt family, the L/n family had run into some bad luck. Stocks didn’t go the way they wanted or something of the sort and now they were in ruining trouble. 

Euphemia Potter was usually one to scoff at arranged marriages, wanting the children to find love for themselves, blood status be damned. However, the L/n’s were good friends of hers and James had written home multiple times about their daughter. From his letters, it seemed as if the two were already dating. It was a perfect coincidence. Euphemia and Fleamont agreed instantly, lifting the weight of a thousand bricks off of the patriarch of the L/n household. 

However, James and Y/n were not dating. Much to James’ annoyance, the only thing between them was his unrequited infatuation towards Y/n. 

So that’s where the pair found themselves at the beginning of seventh year. Y/n L/n trying to fly under the radar and not draw any attention to herself or the new ring on her finger, and James Potter doing everything in his power to show off their relationship and spoil her in front of everyone. 

It began at the start of the year feast. James had an arm around Y/n’s shoulder the entire time. When a third year nervously asked if the two were dating, staring reverently up at James, the boy grinned and looked to Y/n. “I don’t know, love, are we?”

Y/n pushed James’ arm off her shoulder and indelicately said, “no. Take him.” The third year blushed and mumbled their way out of the conversation as James clutched his wounded heart.

During classes, James would loudly correct the professors from Miss. L/n to Mrs. Potter. It earned him wry smiles from McGonagall and Sprout, chuckles from Slughorn and Flitwick, and a cold glare from Y/n. The students all looked a bit confused whenever this happened, but chalked it up to the usual antics of James Potter. 

In the courtyard or by the Black Lake, James would lay his head on Y/n’s lap, even if she pushed him off or was sitting with her knees up. There were roses on her bed and notes in her bag and it got to the point where Y/n didn’t even question how James had snuck into her dorm. 

If Y/n ever went to Hogsmead, James was sure to follow. No matter what she bought, he would pay for. Even if she got frustrated, he would slip the galleons up onto the counter, grinning at the cashier. He wanted to show her that he could provide for her and give her a nice home. As she would walk from shop to shop, he would point out colours of shops, saying, “oh, that would be a good colour for our bathroom. Look at that little cuckoo clock! Y/n, we have to get it.”

He would follow wherever she went, asking what seemed like meaningless questions. Have you ever had any pets? Do you like the country or city better? Any aspirations for your career? What’s a place you always wanted to visit? Y/n thought nothing of it, but to James, her answers were slowly sculpting his future. Would she want a dog or a cat in our home? Where should our house be? I would like the country so our kids could run around more, but we can easily make the city work if she wants. Should I be a stay-at-home dad? Or could we juggle two careers? Where should our honeymoon be? 

Quidditch games were no better, because after every goal the chaser scored – and he scored a lot – he would look to the stands, find his fiancée, and blow her a kiss. Before every match, one of his spare jerseys would be laid out on her bed, a small note attached, begging her to wear it. She never did and he always gave her a pout when he realised it. And God forbid she didn’t go to the games. Once, she had been studying for an upcoming exam and hadn’t been able to make it. James had thrown a fit. Sirius had to drag him away from Madame Hooch before he secured an entire year of detention, but the boy still refused to get in the air. Madame Hooch threatened to start the game and make Gryffindor play a catcher down, but thankfully Remus and Peter had just found Y/n and dragged her to the pitch. The moment James saw her, he beamed and kicked off, broom now in the air. They had ended up winning. James spent the afterparty with his head on Y/n’s lap, arms reaching up to encircle her waist. He continuously reminded her how awful it would’ve been if she hadn’t shown up and only shut up when she began running her fingers through his hair.

And every night, no matter if he went to bed first or she did, James would always go over to Y/n and give her a soft kiss on the forehead and a whispered, “sweet dreams.” No matter where she was, this became a daily occurance in Y/n’s life. At first, she tried to avoid it by sneaking off to the library whenever James began yawning and tossing around the idea of going to bed. But he would find her. She tried the kitchens, hoping he didn’t think to look for her there. But he would find her. She tried being in a group with her friends, in animated conversations. But he would weave his way through the group, step in front of her, and still say goodnight. It was like he had this magical map that told him where she was at all times. It was bloody infuriating. 

Much to James’ dismay, no progress seemed to be made. At least she was staying faithful to her fiancé, the Marauders reassured him as James griped and moaned. He would sling himself onto a common room chair, conveniently in the earshot of his dearest. Y/n would just roll her eyes. 

The majority of Hogwarts didn’t know what to do with them. The girls would swoon when they heard the new thing James Potter had come up with to woo Y/n L/n. The boys would huff and grumble about needing to step up their own game when it came to their girlfriends. James was setting the bar too high. The teachers would sit around, taking time to sip a well-deserved drink, as they complained how if L/n didn’t soon see the boy that was right in front of her, helpless to his love, then Potter was going to have a breakdown.

Yet, Y/n continued to push him away. James could be patient. He had been waiting practically seven years – he could wait a little more, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hurt whenever she brushed him off. She could’ve said no to the engagement. She could’ve punched or hexed him. It didn’t seem like she truly hated him, more like she was embarrassed and tired of him. 

“I don’t get it,” James said finally one night. He laid out on his bed, long limbs stretching over the place as Peter and Sirius played Exploding Snap on the floor. 

Remus was reading on his own bed. The werewolf sighed, knowing where this was going. “What don’t you get, Prongs?” 

“Why doesn’t Y/n like me?” James murmured, looking at his friends with large, hurt eyes. 

“Mate,” Sirius said. One of the cards exploded, making Peter flinch. “Listen. She likes you, yeah? How else are you able to get close to her? I swear, you were practically on top of her a couple days ago.” He scoffed and laid down a card. 

James groaned loudly and exclaimed, “but I’ve tried everything! Hell, we’re literally engaged! I can’t go through an entire marriage like this. Especially not with the woman I love.”

Peter piped up, smiling sincerely at James. “Hey, I’m sure she’ll realise it soon enough. I think she loves you back. She’s just scared.”

“But I’m me!” James shouted out. “I’m not scary!” He looked around wildly at his friends. “Am I?” he asked pathetically.

“I think if you have to ask if you’re scary,” Remus pointed out, “then you’re not scary.”

Sirius grinned. “Excellent point, as always, Moony.”

Remus sighed and gave James a pointed look. “Perhaps, the best thing to do is talk to her. Since she is your future wife, after all.” 

“I do talk to her!” James argued. “I ask her about her day and tell her about our pranks. She- she responds. She’s very sweet, you know, but she never shows any affection.”

“Maybe you’re pressuring her,” Peter commented. “By being all lovey-dovey. You could try being her friend first?”

James didn’t think he could do that. He already thought of Y/n as his wife. He already thought of her as one of his best friends. But what else could he do to get her to feel the same way?

The next week, James took Peter’s words into consideration. Instead of leaving flowers in her dorm, James asked if he could join her in the library for a study session. Instead of blowing her kisses during Quidditch games, he just waved. Instead of envisioning their future, he focused on the present. 

It wasn’t until three weeks had passed that James noticed the results. Y/n began coming to him with some questions on schoolwork. Y/n waved back at Quidditch games, shooting him a thumbs up in encouragement. Y/n wouldn’t fiddle with her engagement ring nervously, as if worried someone would spot it. 

The girl noticed her changed behaviour too. On a random Thursday, when James came to kiss her goodnight, she paused her conversation and whispered back, “sleep well,” angling her body so he wouldn’t have to reach as far to kiss her temple. Soon after, she excused herself from her friends, flustered. Y/n paced around her dorm, twisting the ring back and forth. 

A knock came at the door. “Hey,” James murmured as he pushed open the door. “Are you okay?”

Y/n turned to face him. “You actually care about me, don’t you?” she whispered. 

James couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course,” he replied. “Why on earth would you think otherwise?”

She shrugged. “It seemed fake, you know? Like this one big prank to single me out. But then you actually seemed excited and willing to marry me, James. Marriage. This is the rest of our lives and we haven’t even kissed!”

James cracked a smirk. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I can fix that really easily.”

“But you think you’re in this for the long run?” Y/n asked desperately. “For- for the fights? The late nights? The chores? And we haven’t even talked if we want kids or not!”

“Love,” he interrupted her spiral. “Have you thought about the waking up every morning in my arms? The dancing in the kitchen for no reason? The anniversary dinners where I profess my love over and over again?” He stepped forward, placing his warm hands on her arms soothingly. “And if you want, I would love to have mini replicas of us running around, waking us up in the middle of the night because of a night terror. I would love for them to disrupt our dancing in the kitchen by demanding they want to dance too. And I would love for them to groan when they see me being all sappy towards my wife.”

How could any girl say no when James Potter was standing before her, promising her endless devotion? The kiss was slow, James’ lips slowly moving against hers. He revelled in the warmth of her body and how her head tilted to him as he cupped her cheek gently. All short and lovely and sweet, the kisses were exactly how James had dreamed. 

The couple parted and the boy stared down at her. His finger went up to brush her bottom lip before murmuring, “will you marry me?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

[mssorceressupreme]

Let Me Help | F.W

———

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: After losing a quidditch match, Fred is frustrated and you help him by giving him a post-match massage, which leads into something more, or well something sweet.

Warnings: massaging, making out, hickeys, moaning ig, praising (ish), slightly steamy but mostly fluffy, fluffy!fred, nap-time together, cuddling, littlespoon!reader, bigspoon!fred, pls i want to have nap-time in fred's arms

———

The roar of the crowd had dwindled into murmurs as you, Hermione, and Luna sat on the bleachers, watching the Gryffindor Quidditch team gather on the pitch below. The match against Hufflepuff had ended moments ago, and to everyone’s surprise, Gryffindor had lost after a season of winning.

It wasn’t just a loss—it was a hard-fought game, filled with moments of near victory that had slipped through their fingers.

Fred and George, always the heart of the team, looked particularly worn down. Fred’s usual buoyant demeanour was dimmed, his lips were pressed in a firm line, nodding as Oliver clearly scolded him about something. He wasn’t one to take criticism lightly, especially not when he was already down.

“I think Wood's giving Fred a hard time,” Hermione murmured, squinting at the scene below.

“Fred looks sad,” Luna observed, tilting her head dreamily. “Maybe he’s just feeling the weight of the nargles today.”

You tried waving to Fred, catching his eye. "It's okay Freddie..." you mouthed, attempting to comfort him slightly from the bleachers.

He looked up and, instead of the cheeky grin and exaggerated gestures you were used to, he blew you a small, almost apologetic kiss.

It wasn’t the playful, confident one that usually made you laugh; it was soft, almost sad, and it made your heart ache.

“He’ll be okay,” Hermione reassured you as you all made your way down from the stands.

The walk back to Hogwarts was subdued. The team split off to the showers while you, Hermione, and Luna headed toward the common room. Your mind was on Fred the whole time, wondering how you could cheer him up.

When the players eventually returned, freshly showered but still visibly tired, you led the cheers in the common room to boost their spirits. George gave a half-hearted grin, Angelina and Katie exchanged appreciative smiles, but Fred hung back, his smile never quite reaching his eyes.

Determined to help him, you waited for the crowd to thin out before slipping away and making your way to the boys’ dormitory. Knocking softly, you peeked inside. Fred was sitting on his bed, his head resting in his hands, and the sight made your chest ache.

There was no sight of his dorm mates, they were likely out and about, lurking around campus somewhere.

He looked up when you entered, and his face softened immediately, though the exhaustion in his eyes noticeable.

“Hey,” you said gently, closing the door behind you.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice low. He patted the spot next to him, and you sat down, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, though you already had a good idea.

Fred sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. “Oliver. He’s... he’s been on my case. Said I was distracted during the match, that I wasn’t focused enough. Maybe he’s right.”

You frowned. “That’s not fair. I watched the whole match, Fred. You were brilliant out there.”

He shook his head, a humourless laugh escaping him. “Doesn’t feel like it. We lost. And Oliver... he’s just so stressed about this season. Guess I was an easy target today.”

Reaching out, you placed a hand on his arm, stroking gently. “Ignore him. He’s just upset because he cares too much about the team. But that doesn’t mean he’s right about you. You gave it your all, Fred. I could see it. And I’m so proud of you.”

You hated seeing him like this, your Fred, who always had a joke or a cheeky grin, now looking so defeated.

Fred gave you a small, grateful smile, his gaze softening further, though the weight of the day still lingered in his expression. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

“Someone has to be,” you teased, squeezing his hand. “You’re not half as annoying as you pretend to be Weasley.”

The corner of his lips curled up ever so slightly, and you decided you’d do anything to make it stick. An idea popped into your head, and you straightened up.

“Sit on the floor,” you said suddenly.

Fred blinked at you, confused. “What? Why? You’re not planning to hex me, are you?”

“No hexes,” you promised, laughing. “Just trust me.”

Still skeptical, Fred slid off the bed and sat cross-legged on the floor. “This better be good,” he muttered, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone.

You knelt behind him, placing your hands on his broad shoulders. The moment you started massaging him, he tensed, clearly surprised.

“What are you—”

“Shh,” you interrupted, grinning. “Just relax.”

It didn’t take long for him to give in. A low groan escaped his lips as your fingers worked over the knots in his shoulders. “Merlin Y/N, that’s... bloody amazing,” he muttered, his head dipping forward.

“You’re all tense,” you said softly, your fingers kneading the muscles in his neck. “You’ve been carrying too much stress.”

Fred let out a deep sigh, his body slowly relaxing under your touch. “You’re going to put Madam Pomfrey out of a job,” he joked, his voice muffled. “This is—blimey—I could get used to this.”

You smiled, continuing to work your fingers along his shoulders and down his back. The earlier frustration and tension seemed to melt away, his breathing slowing as he leaned into your touch.

“You know,” he said after a while, his voice lighter now, “if you ever decide to quit school, you’ve got a future in saving stressed Quidditch players.”

You laughed, continuing to massage him. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

As you leaned closer, you couldn’t resist planting a soft, lingering kiss on the side of his neck. Fred’s breath hitched slightly at the unexpected gesture. Smiling against his skin, you pressed another kiss just below his ear, then one more at the curve where his neck met his shoulder.

“Wha—” Fred started, his voice thick with surprise and something softer, “what are you doing?”

“Cheering you up,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his skin as you spoke.

He let out a low, content hum, tilting his head slightly to give you more access. “Well, I’d say it’s working,” he moaned softly, his grin evident even though you couldn’t see it. “Bloody hell, you’re good at this.”

You giggled, continuing to pepper his neck with light, affectionate kisses. “Good. You deserve a little TLC after today.”

Fred turned his head slightly, his voice a little breathless now. “A little? I deserve this every day.”

“You’d get spoiled,” you teased, kissing just below his jawline.

“Already am,” he admitted with a happy sigh. “And if you don't stop I might just take you here and now." He moaned again, as you left him a hickey, sucking sweetly on the side of his neck.

"You like that Weasley?..." You cooed, continued planting sweet kisses around his neck and he threw his head back, groaning softly.

"Mhm, feels so good love..." He hummed, eyes shut as his breathing grew heavier.

You chuckled, pulling back slightly to look at him. His eyes were closed, his lips curved in the most serene smile you’d seen all day. His usual cheeky confidence was still there, but it was softer now, tempered with gratitude and affection.

When you finally stopped, Fred turned around to face you, his brown eyes warm and filled with gratitude and adoration. “My girlfriend's incredible,” he said softly, reaching for your hand.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied, smiling.

He got up and made his way onto the bed, hovering over you as he pushed you down gently, making you lie down with his hands beside your head, trapping you beneath him essentially.

He then bent down into a kiss, sweet and unhurried, his lips warm against yours. You giggled, as he continued, parting your mouth slightly as his tongue slipped inside.

His lips were soft, pillowy against your own. "Fred..." you moaned into his kiss softly as he sucked on your tongue. You could feel the soft tickle of his breath beneath your nose, your fingers running through his hair as you breathed each other in.

He too, had always managed to make you melt at his touch, to feel good, to feel loved, you were weak beneath him.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he let out a content sigh.

“You really know how to cheer a bloke up, don’t you?” he teased, his grin finally back.

“Someone’s got to keep you from sulking,” you quipped, poking his chest playfully.

Fred chuckled, moving to lay beside you on his bed. You curled up against his side, his arm wrapped securely around you.

For the first time that day, he looked completely at ease, the weight of the match’s loss forgotten.

As you lay there together, his fingers idly traced patterns on your arm. “You know,” he said after a while, his voice soft, “I don’t deserve you.”

You tilted your head up to look at him, frowning. “Don’t say that Freddie, you're amazing. You know, despite how much of a git you can be sometimes, you deserve all the happiness in the world.” You turn to face him, brushing some messy strands away from his face to see him, your Fred.

His grin returned, this time with a mischievous glint. “Well, if you insist... I suppose I’ll let you keep spoiling me.”

You laughed, swatting his arm lightly. “Don’t push it, Weasley.”

He laughed too, pulling you closer. “Too late.”

Fred pulled you into his arms, your bodies pressed against each other, your head rested below his, melting into his chest, one of the many perks being the little spoon.

The two of you laid there, tangled together, the world outside fading into nothing. His steady breathing lulled you into a peaceful nap.

When George returned later, he peeked in, grinning at the sight of you both asleep, Fred’s arms securely around you. He quietly closed the door, leaving you both to your well-deserved rest.

[moonstruckme]

Could you do a scenario of reader comforting sirus after he gets an injury while playing Quidditch and has to sit out a lot of games?

Thanks for requesting!

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 701 words

Sirius hardly pauses his sulking to mutter a quiet, “thanks,” when you return with his hot cider. 

Remus scoffs. “Nice, Pads.” 

“What?” 

“You’re just so sweet to your girlfriend.” 

“It’s okay,” you say, sitting next to Sirius with a smile. “It’s his first match being barred from the pitch, I get it.” You fix your boyfriend with a look. “I won’t be patient forever, though.” 

Sirius looks genuinely contrite. “Sorry.” You accept his apology kiss, but he scowls when a first year nearly trips on his cast. “Fuck, is this thing bloody invisible?” 

“Easy,” Remus cautions, though both he and you shoot stern looks at the first year. 

“Wanna turn sideways?” you offer. “I could hold it in my lap?” 

Sirius perks up some. “You gonna give me a foot massage, gorgeous?” 

“Merlin,” Remus mutters, scanning the student section for Lily. 

“I don’t really see how that would be possible…” You raise your eyebrows, smiling when Sirius half turns in his seat to plonk his injured leg in your lap. “I was thinking more like I could draw on it. Any tattoos you’ve been wanting on this leg?” 

Most of Gryffindor has already had a turn signing Sirius’ cast. It’s been on since the match last weekend, when a bad fall had broken Sirius’ leg badly enough that Pomfrey eventually had to send him out of the infirmary with skele-gro to heal what she couldn’t. It’ll be on for another couple weeks at least, and between you and James the white plaster is beginning to run out of space. 

“Hm.” Sirius leans over, considering. You’re glad the distraction is working. He’s been quiet and sullen all week because he’s had to miss quidditch training, and you’re sure his melancholy is twice as bad having to miss out on an actual match. “What about a dragon?”

“I could maybe do that.” You fish a marker out of your bag. “What sort of dragon?” 

Sirius’ mood sinks again when the match starts and the players fly out onto the pitch, but as it gets going and Gryffindor starts to score points, he gets into it. He roars with the rest of the crowd, picks up a chant about house pride, and, though he shouts a few obscenities at the beater filling in for him when a bludger gets too close to Bell, he still smiles when James points at him after scoring a goal. A real smile, bright and heart-fluttering. 

Near the end of the game, Sirius looks rather contented. He sips his second cup of cider while you draw daisies in between the other doodles on his cast. 

“They’d have more points if I were out there,” he says, rather mildly. 

Remus nearly snorts. “Yeah? How do you figure?” 

“I’d have sent a bludger towards Malfoy ages ago. There’s been lots of opportunities. Marlene’s holding her own, though,” he acknowledges. “And there are some advantages to being off the pitch for a little while.” 

You catch the syrupy quality to his voice, and turn to find him looking at you. You raise your eyebrows. “Do tell.” 

“Well, the cider, for one.” Sirius holds up his cup, as though that’s obvious. “Can’t usually have that during a match.” 

“Mm, you’re welcome.” 

“Did I not say thank you?” He leans over to nose at your neck. Remus respectfully looks back to the match. “Thank you, baby. Really. It’s great.” 

“I didn’t make it.” You grin at him. “What are the other things?” 

Sirius hums. “No early morning training. I get to have breakfast with my girl.” 

“No afternoon training on the weekends, either.” 

“Ah, see? You’re catching on.” 

“Don’t talk down to me,” you laugh. “You’re the one who’s been giving everyone the cold shoulder all week, Black.” 

“I know.” Sirius pulls his face from beneath your jaw. The playfulness is mostly gone from his expression, his eyes deep blue and full of apology. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to give anyone the cold shoulder, I just…” 

“It’s okay,” you say easily. You lean over, kissing the top of his head. “Really, I get it. You alright?” 

Sirius sighs, looking out over the pitch. “Yeah.” 

You rest your cheek on his hair. “Good.”

[vividxpages]

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅ home is wherever you are ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 13k

summary: As the Christmas holidays approach, your parents summon you home to attend a business dinner with the Hightowers and secure a possible match with one of Alicent’s sons. With no intention to go, you spend the weeks of December with your boyfriend Jacaerys and your friends at Hogwarts, but as the holidays draw closer, you find yourself crumbling underneath your worries and it’s only a matter of time until Jace finds out…

A festive Hogwarts x HotD story.

warnings: Gryffindor head boy!Jace x pureblood!reader (they’re in seventh year), established relationship, fluff, festive and cozy vibes, kissing and making out, , bastardphobia, discrimination, the Targaryens are a legendary family of dragon tamers & riders, anxiety and bad coping mechanisms, Quidditch, vaginal fingering, handjobs, angst, burn injuries, mental breakdown, hurt/comfort, Christmas, happy ending, hopeful ending

a/n: this fic poured out of me within five days, so I am so excited to finally post it. if you don't like reading long fics on tumblr, you can also read it here on my ao3 account! Please consider leaving kudos or a comment on there if you like it.

Happy festive season to all of you ❤️

December at Hogwarts was a breath of cold sharp air and a warm blanket by the fire, both at once.

The cozy and freezing season showed itself at best in its contrasts at the castle by the lake, the bright snow all around it with the earthy colors on the inside, every fire and candle lit within the corridors and rooms of the school. There were only a few weeks left until Christmas and the atmosphere at the school was welcoming and cozy as ever, the air smelling of cinnamon and peppermint, pine and gingerbread.

In every corner, the preparations for the festivities could be spotted, whether students were having snowball fights near the forest or muttering spells into the Christmas cookies so they remained warm and soft throughout the week. In the cold landscape, groups of friends went on a snowy walk and board games were played in the evenings while others knitted Christmas sweaters or wrapped their presents until it’d be too late to give them out to their friends at Hogwarts.

In the middle of it all, there was you.

You were the only daughter of an old and proud pureblood family, a cruel fate of the stars which never had been easy for you.

As a child, you had often wondered if you were a changeling, misplaced on the wrong doorstep, a flower doomed to try her best to blossom between a thousand thorns. Going to Hogwarts and finding a home in those warm halls had been a blessing, but the relationship with your strict parents had only complicated itself more, until it eventually became a twisted and ugly thing. The situation at home only worsened for you since they somehow had found out you were dating Jacaerys Velaryon.

Their already disobedient and free-minded daughter with the dark-haired wanna-be Targaryen, son of Rhaenya Targaryen who they had sided against ever since the deep rift in the biggest and richest dynasty of wizards and witches had opened. It was a scandal, to know this illegitimate half-blood sullied your good name and virtue.

Of course, they had tried to talk some sense into you on many occasions, their words like poison clouding your mind until you knew one thing for sure; you hated them. And you were never going to end things with Jacaerys simply because they despised the match between you two.

With the Christmas holidays soon approaching, letters from your parents’ estate in the countryside had started to arrive and so far, each of them had been burned by a quick whisper from your lips. Instead, you were ignoring all your worries and pushed them far away into the back of your mind and simply by spending time with your boyfriend, it had worked out well for you, so far.

Falling in love with Jacaerys Velaryon had been as easy as choosing your wand all this time ago, as feeling the first magic of your life prickle beneath your fingertips.

Since you had been assigned to the same House, your paths had crossed often but briefly and something inside of you had always been mesmerized by him. As head boy and bright heir of Rhaenyra Targaryen, he was a wanted man, making it difficult at first to get to know him even as you lived and studied close to one another.

The way his addictive laugh echoed across the corridors when he walked with his younger brother Luke or his quidditch team, how he could lose himself in deep concentration during his studies and he achieved greatness to follow his mother’s grand reputation. It all only added to the quiet fascination you nurtured for him, his good looks and charming personality a dangerous fuel to the fire. While hard-working and ambitious, he was kind and courageous and when you finally became acquaintances through your friendship with Baela, you knew this could either end well or in complete heartbreak for you.

With your friend groups mixing, the two of you had danced around each other for the longest time. And while you really had tried to see him as a friend, your thoughts kept returning to wondering how it might be to kiss him, to hold his hand while you walked around Hogwarts, to know all of him and to be known by him.

It finally had hit you one day in Potions, when the amortentia you’d been asked to brew had started to smell like Jace’s quidditch jumper, his cologne and a unique scent of salt and fire. You had looked over at him in shock and to your surprise, he had already been staring at you, his own kettle a soft pink, similar to the bow you often wore in your hair…

It had been summer and with the privileges of the 6th year, you had been allowed to go stargazing on top of the Astronomy Tower. You had sat beside Jace, his jacket draped over your shoulders as your feet had dangled over the edge. When the first shooting star had passed by and everyone gasped in delight around you, Jace and you had only eyes for each other until he finally bridged the last little bit of distance between you and kissed you softly.

That night, you had fallen asleep together, sharing one sleeping bag as you giggled together in the darkness and shared kisses, every new one more daring than the last…

Ever since then, Jacaerys and you had been a dream team, the golden Head Boy and Quidditch star and the smartest girl of Gryffindor House.

Today, it was a quiet evening at the common room, only a few students still mingling around after dinner at the Great Hall. Jace and you had finished up early, taking a small plate of creamy tiramisu with you on the way to secure your favorite spot on the old and comfortably sofa by the fireplace.

The shadows of the flames warmed your legs as you read in a book, your hand absently brushing through Jace’s hair. Your boyfriend’s head rested in your lap, tiny and pleasant shivers going through him at your affections while he wrote a letter to his mother, his fingertips stained by the dark ink.

While Rhaenyra was a famous and feared auror, one of the best out there and honored multiple times for her dangerous missions against evil, she was one of the most loving people you knew, although you had not met her personally yet. But you heard how fondly Baela and Rhaena spoke of her, how often little care packages from home arrived for Jace and Luke, the brothers living separately at Hogwarts through Luke’s division into Ravenclaw where he was friends with Rhaena, but never being found too far apart from each other.

There was a comfortable silence between the two of you and from time to time, you fed Jace some Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans and made him guess the flavors while you ate some of the sherbet lemons you couldn’t get enough of.

“And?” You asked, smiling at the way Jace’s brows furrowed in concentration.

“Hmm.” Jace traced little patterns on your knee, the closest part of you he could reach as he was stretched out on the couch. “It’s minty, but there’s something else in it. Maybe- ugh, fir resin?!”

You laughed as he grimaced, handing him the next one as you laid your book aside for the night. Jace chewed on the candy for a little more than a second before he looked up at you, grinning. “Oh, easy. Your lip gloss.”

“Huh?”

“It’s cherry.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes at him affectionately before leaning down and capturing his lips with a slow kiss. Your hair framed his face and he arched up to meet you, a delicate hand on your cheek as you kissed, blind and uncaring for everything else in the world around you. Maybe you could sneak out tonight, to your little secluded spot in the greenhouse?

“Ay, keep it together, there’s kids around here.” A deep, amused voice greeted you and Jace and you separated to see Cregan sitting down in front of the sofa, a knowing grin on the Quidditch keeper’s face as he looked at the pair of you.

“Good evening, Cregan.” You said overly polite and he barked out a laugh, grabbing one of your red gummy vines for himself as Jace sat up with a slight groan, placing the letter to his mother on the little table beside you. Instinctively, you leaned into his side, snuggling beneath his arm as the softness of his red and gold sweater caressed your cheek.

“I didn’t want to interrupt the two of you-“

Jace gave him a look. “But you did.”

“-but I wanted to ask if you’re coming to the 7th year student’s farewell party for the old year?” Cregan smiled at you, a nice sight since the wolf of the north was often serious around others, all duty and honor, but a secret softie at heart. “It’s happening next weekend. There’s gonna be lots of booze and music. There’s just one tiny thing that might piss you off, Jace.”

You looked at your boyfriend who furrowed his brows. “What is it?”

“Your uncles will be there too.” Cregan confessed darkly. “I would have objected but one of the other guys thought it’d be hilarious to have their asses there. Invites are already out. Sorry, man.”

You felt Jace tense beside you, his nostrils flaring at the thought of Aegon and Aemond walking into his common room. They were a delicate subject to him and you knew about the complicated tryst within his big family divided by the Targaryen and the Hightower side. They were powerful and influential with their great dynasty of dragon riders and tamers, yet they chose to shred each other to pieces. The mistrust ran deeply and the fact that they all were part of the most influential and powerful wizard family of the country didn’t help.

Aegon and Aemond, similar to Jace and Luke, were known around the halls of Hogwarts, but unlike the dark-haired brothers, they used it to their advantage, looking down on others and bathing in their admiration and fear to equal parts. Their younger sister Helaena had become yours and the twin’s friend, but she was the only sweet soul on her side of the Targaryen family.

Earlier this year, the tensions between the boys had escalated when Aemond had provoked Luke to the point where Jace had to drag his brother away from their uncle as he threw insults at him, the fight the top gossip subject in the next weeks. You knew what they whispered about Jace and Luke. Dirty bastards. Half-bloods. To people like your parents or the Hightowers, it was an insult, a curse. It was all a bunch of bullshit.

“Hey.” You said softly and rested your hand on Jace’s arm, drawing him out of his spiraling thoughts. You knew him all too well after all and at your touch, Jace softened a little, leaning back into the deep cushions of the couch. “We want to go, right? It’s probably the last big gathering before the season’s break. Surely you won’t let them ruin your night, Jace. Let them come, their words mean nothing.”

Cregan remained silent in front of you, patiently waiting through the silent exchange between the two of you. Jace squeezed your hand in his and then nodded, turning back to Cregan. “We’ll be there. Now hit the showers, man, you still reek of training.”

Your shared friend left with a triumphant grin and as the crackling of the wooden logs took over the quietness of the room again, you sighed and sneaked your hand underneath Jace’s sweater to warm yourself, your head resting on his shoulder.

“It’ll be okay.” You murmured, knowing the matter most likely had not left Jace’s mind yet. “There will be so many other students, we likely won’t even see them all night. Our group doesn’t want to hang out with them anyway, Jace.”

“I know.” Jace replied quietly, staring into the flames, the brown of his eyes shining like embers. “It’s not just Luke or me I’m worried about. I also don’t want you to get hurt by them. They are such pieces of shit, always causing trouble, if they’ll come near you…”

“I’ll hex them.” You suggested brightly and successfully lured a smile out of your Jace. “If they’re acting up, I’ll teach them a lesson. I can be very protective of the ones I love, too, you know?”

“Yeah…” Jace smiled at you, smitten and adoring of your courage and carefreeness. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and gently cupped your cheek, getting lost in your eyes. “One of the endless reasons I love you.”

“I love you too.” You whispered back, leaning into his touch. “Screw them, we are going to have our fun, okay? Deal?”

“Deal.”

You smiled back, biting your lip in consideration. “I believe we have been doing something of most importance before Stark interrupted us, wouldn’t you agree?”

Jace laughed, back to his smiley self around you and pulled you closer by the waist. “Oh, I agree wholeheartedly.”

You sighed as Jacaerys kissed you again, his lips slowly moving against yours as shivers ran down your spine despite the warm fireplace. You tilted your head to the side, gladly letting him take over the lead and granting his tongue entrance. At your side, your bag of candy rustled, but neither of you cared as you got lost in each other, Jace making sure to show you exactly how much he loved and appreciated you before it was time to separate and go to bed…

⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆

When the weekend came, Jace and you met down in the common room early to have breakfast at the Great Hall together. After pancakes and oatmeal, you had met with Luke and a few of his Ravenclaw friends to take a trip to the snowy Hogsmeade.

There were no time restrictions for you anymore with the both of you being in 7th year now and you were giddy and excited during the long walk, laughing as Jace started a snowball fight with Luke when about half of the way was done.

With your destination reached, you two separated from Luke and went straight to Honeydukes while Luke went off to go to Zonko's Joke Shop. You laced your fingers together with Jace’s and pulled him into the sweets store, sighing at the delicious smell of caramel popcorn and cotton candy.

Together, you browsed through the shelves and tried the little samples of your favorites, occasionally sharing a tooth-rooting sweet kiss. You brought a bag of chocolate frogs for Baela later, who was on prefect duty today and accompanied the 3rd year students to their first Hogsmeade trip, and a small treat for Jace and you to share. At the cash register, Jace stood close beside you and sneaked one hand into the back pocket of your jeans, making you blush and smile as you paid up.

Out in the snow again, Jace stopped by at the post office to send off his letter to Rhaenyra, quickly slipping a tiny hearty bone into it, which he had shrunken with magic and would later become a very monstrous snack for his dragon Vermax. For obvious reasons, no Targaryen kid could take their dragon to Hogwarts with them and so, Jace often missed his companion, although Helaena had crocheted him a mini-version when they were in year four.

Stepping outside, Jacaerys smiled at you as you bit off a gummy red vine and kissed your red nose. “Should we go to the Three Broomsticks Inn? It’s barely afternoon, we still have time.”

You sighed leaning into his side as you began to walk. “Yes, please.” At the thought of hot chocolate and the cozy atmosphere at the inn, your heart screamed for warmth.

“Come on then.” Jace kissed your temple and laid his arm around you. “Drinks are on me.” As always when you were out with him.

Usually, at least three of Jace’s mates were hanging around the inn, but today everyone seemed to prepare for the party back at the castle, so Jace and you were on your own, slipping into your favorite booth way back in the taproom where it was quiet and always a good hideout to make out with each other.

Laughing as Jace shook out his snowy hair, you skipped the bench opposite of his right away and made yourself comfortable on his knee. After ordering two butterbeers, you dove into your bag of candy and chatted about the classes you’d have together next week and what homework still needed to be finished until then. You were entirely uninterrupted here, in your own little world as Jace lazily caressed your body and peppered your neck with little kisses, the busy noises from the main room not reaching you at all.

 All too soon, it was time to make your way back. The snow had fallen thickly overnight and there was no doubt now that Christmas was approaching fast. At your side, Jace laughed at you as you stuck out your tongue and tried to catch a snowflake with it, his feet nearly slipping on a frozen puddle which made you giggle in return.

You always had liked the path leading back from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts, mostly because Jace and you could be alone and chat without anyone listening, especially the lower year’s little reporters who often wanted his opinions for their magazines. Now, you were walking hand in hand as Jace carried your purchases from the village for you when suddenly, your beloved owl came into view below the clouds and fir trees near the road.

“What’s Darling doing here?” Jace looked at you with curiosity as the owl briefly sat down on your shoulder and let an envelope sink into your hand. With a quick feathery nuzzle against your cheek, she launched herself into the air again and took off to the tower where she lived with her companions.

You stared down at the letter in your hands.

The paper was a tasteful black and dark blue and when you saw your own initials on the unbroken seal up front, you knew exactly who had sent you mail on the weekend.

“I’ll open it later.” You smiled blandly at Jace, stuffing the letter into the pocket of your coat and taking his hand again to walk back to the castle with him. “Let’s go, we’ll miss dinner if we loiter.”

Hours later, you were staring into space, zoned out although the large room around you was crowded and very much in the best party mood possible. The common room was full to the brim, chatter and music from the old stereo in the corner buzzing in your room. Everyone had wanted to join the last unofficial party of the year before going home to their families and students kept pouring in through the open door.

In the crowd, you could spot Baela and Rhaena, laughing with Luke and handing out little glasses with a suspiciously green content that smelled sharply of mint and liquor. Cregan had found a comfy spot in one of the big armchairs, passionately kissing a girl from Hufflepuff while some of your other friends were dancing carefreely.

Just yesterday, you would’ve been one of them.

But the words of your mother from the letter were replaying themselves in your mind over and over again.

The message towards you had been short and clear, yet full of hidden meaning; Your father and I expect you to join us for the holidays this year. We are to be guests at the Hightower’s estate. They are a respectable family and good allies of us and you will do your best to impress Alicent’s sons. A match with a powerful heir like they are is only suited and overdue for a young woman like you. We expect you home on the afternoon of the 21th.

In need to quieten the noise in your mind, you chugged your shot of firewhisky back, grimacing at the strong taste exploding on your tongue and squeezing your eyes shut for a moment. There was a familiar touch to your side and you were snapped out of your thoughts as Jace came up behind you, sneaking both his arms around your waist and drawing you closer.

“Hey, beautiful.” He murmured in your ear, pecking your cheek affectionately. “Is everything alright?”

You took a deep breath and turned around in his arms. Becoming a little weak in the knees at the sight of your handsome boyfriend, you nodded and leaned close as his hands stroked up your spine and played with your hair. In his dark red sweater and freshly washed hair, he looked particularly good tonight, a slight flush of warmth painting his cheeks.

“I’m just a little sleepy.” It wasn’t a lie, not really. “I think the trip to Hogsmeade today tired me out a little.”

Jace looked at you with soft eyes, lowering his voice and offering: “We could go upstairs and cuddle, if you want? It’s just a stupid party.”

Your heart melted at his offer, the knowledge he’d drop everything to make sure you were comfortable doing something to your already tender being today. Jacaerys made you so happy…why couldn’t your parents simply see that and accept it? You silently scolded yourself for returning to your parents again. You were eager to forget about all of it for the night, not sulk in your misery and let them deny you the fun you deserved to have.

You shook your head, a real smile on your face this time as you nudged him into the direction of the improvised dance floor. “I’m fine. Let’s have some fun, come on.”

Jace let himself be pulled into the crowd, his eyes traveling over your tights and the short, checkered skirt you wore tonight, your top a classy roll collar so no one could make fun of the hickeys he had left on you earlier today at the inn. Just as if it was the first time, he looked at you with so much love in his dark eyes, you forgot all your worries as he snaked his arm around your waist and you placed your head on his shoulder.

You swayed to the beat in his arms, allowing yourself to just be as Jace played with the soft edges of your hair, breathing your sweet perfume in and stroking his thumb over your side. Over his shoulder, you smiled back at the twins as Baela fumbled with her polaroid camera and quietly took a snap of you.

As you danced with Jacaerys, you were happy.

If only it could stay like this forever.

Further into the night, when the spontaneous bar in front of the fireplace had switched over to harder liquor one of Cregan’s guys had managed to somehow sneak past McGonagall, you stood together with your girls. Clinking your bubbly glass flutes, the pocket of your skirt kept the polaroid of Jace and you safe for the rest of the party and you caught Jace’s eye from across the room, gesturing that you were going to go to the bathroom real quick. He nodded and you excused yourself, walking down the corridor outside of the common room. Earlier, you had seen one of your roommates sneak off into the girl’s bathroom with a guy from Slytherin and you were not eager to walk in on them.

You walked down the hall, rubbing your arms against the cold of the walls when suddenly, a dark silhouette stepped out from one of the niches.

“Needed a breather as well?” Aegon smiled cooly at you, stubbing out his cig against the stone wall next to him. He watched you closely as you stopped, not sure how to assess the situation. His face was flushed, but otherwise he seemed to be not as drunk as normally during parties, which surprised you.

You gave him a curt nod. “Aegon.” As you tried to walk past him, he stepped into your way, holding up a hand.

“Truly, I’m delighted to see you, I must say.” A foul grin took over his features and you stepped back once more, the faint whiff of alcohol from him now hitting you. “My mother just sent me a letter about you today, you know? Got mail from home, too?”

You glared darkly at him, a look of despise Jace would’ve been proud of. “None of your business.”

“Oh, come on.” Aegon snorted, winking. “If the relations between our families are blossoming, we should get acquainted sooner rather than later, don’t you agree? Or perhaps, I can introduce you to my brother Aemond, if you prefer? My mother mentioned your parents aren’t particularly picky when it comes to a match for you. And Christmas is just around the corner…”

You froze.

He knew.

You stared at him, your clenched fists trembling with anger at his nonchalant and disrespectful manners, his eyes looking you over as if you were a prize he already had won.

“Come on, it’s about time you surround yourself with people of your status.” Aegon tried again, not letting you off so easily.

“I would rather die.” You spat out, glaring daggers at him and just as Aegon opened his mouth and took an abrupt step towards you, quick steps echoed down the hall. You whipped your head around and saw Jacaerys, stalking towards you and his uncle with fire in his eyes and a tense jaw.

“Ah, nephew!” Aegon greeted him cheerily, although a disgusted snarl now tugged at the edge of his mouth. “Me and your girl were just talking-“

“Shut up.” You hissed in warning, your hand itching to grab your wand which you wore tugged into the warm leather of your knee-high boot. A second later, Jace was at your side and rested his hand on your waist, protectively drawing you close.

“Are you okay?” He looked at you searchingly, his eyes flickering across your face with worry. “Leave her the fuck alone, Aegon.”

“We were just conversing. Is that forbidden now?”

Jace took a threatening step towards him and you knew your quick-tempered boyfriend wouldn’t hesitate to throw a spell against his uncle if he said another wrong word, although the consequences would likely be gravely. You remembered the day both Rhaenyra and Alicent had been summoned to the castle because of the fistfight between their sons…there was no need for a repeat performance.

“Jace.” You pleaded quickly, holding him back from doing something honorable and very, very stupid. Aegon grinned brightly at the two of you, clearly thrilled by the way you tugged Jace back by his arm, stepping between the two men. Under your breath, you mumbled: “Don’t. It’s exactly what he wants. It was nothing, I’m okay. Come on, let’s go, come.”

Jacaerys tore his murderous gaze away from Aegon and let himself be led away, his hand holding yours tightly as you brought more and more distance between them. Only when you reached the entrance door to Gryffindor House, you felt him exhale, yet the tension did not leave his body entirely.

You threw one last look over your shoulder and shuddered at Aegon’s vicious smile.

You were in desperate need of another drink.

⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆

You rubbed your gloved hands together as a fierce breeze brushed against you, caused by the formation of Quidditch players on their brooms flying past you, Rhaena and Helaena. The girls and you sat huddled together on the bleachers by the Quidditch field, your wand steadily held up to produce a small magical fire in front of you.

Today’s quidditch training was in full swing and occasionally, you cheered Baela and Jace on as they chased across the field, spurred on by Cregan’s massive form flying from goal to goal to defend their score. In a few days, there was a match against Slytherin and none of them intended to lose against Aegon and Aemond before the year would end.

“I can’t believe we didn’t think of marshmallows.” Rhaena said regretfully and Heleana huffed out a laugh, her quick fingers skillfully knitting a new scarf. You for yourself had concentrated yourself on the black cat in your lap, which belonged to Rhaena since she had no luck yet in securing a dragon for herself back at home. Your friend bumped you into the side. “We could’ve made smores!”

Over your heads, Jacaerys halted on his broom, shouting encouraging commands before he flew on. Your eyes followed him across the field, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Next year, I promise I’ll bring chocolate.”

Silently, Helaena suddenly reached into her fluffy jacket and produced two chocolates bars from her pockets, making both you and Rhaena gasp in delight.

“Hel, you’re the best!”

You waved at Jace from the distance, wiggling triumphantly with the chocolate in your hand as your flames danced, and you swore you could’ve heard his laugh echo through the air.

“Are you fit for the Astronomy exam next Tuesday?” Rhaena asked, nervously biting her lip. “I feel like I got no clue about anything.”

“It’s not that complicated.” Helaena chimed in softly.

“Helaena, I love you, but you are close to being a medium, your opinion doesn’t count.” Suddenly, an idea crossed Rhaena’s mind and you laughed at her stunned expression. “Teach me, please, and I’ll help you with Transfiguration next week.”

“That’s cheating.” You sing-songed, earning a glare. “What? The only reason I passed the last History of Magic test is simply because my boyfriend is a massive nerd.” Your tutoring lessons with Jace had taken a while to become efficient though, since you two were easily distracted by each other’s closeness and often, your books had fallen off your bed during a heated make out session with him.

Rhaena groaned, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I’m glad when all of this is over, I can’t wait until Christmas break. Our grandparents will visit and we’ll all be together. What about you, guys?”

“I wish we’d spend Christmas together again…” Helaena mumbled, lost in her knitting. It was true, Jace and the twins only really saw Helaena at Hogwarts. Rhaenyra and Alicent only saw each other during brief encounters at the Ministry and it was better for everyone if Daemon didn’t see any of the Hightowers at all, really.

Rhaena looked guiltily at you before clearing her throat. “How about you? Any fun Christmas plans?”

It took all your strength to not meet Helaena’s worried gaze beside you. If Aegon knew about your parents’ plans, then so did she and you were not going to deal with this whole matter in front of your friends, especially since you kept all of this from Jace and intended to keep it that way.

You thoughtfully petted Rhaena’s cat, willing the dryness in your throat away. “You know, so far there’s been-“

“Oh, look who it is!”

A lightning bolt of black and red shot towards you, making the three of you squeal as Jacaerys slowed down on his broom and stopped right in front of the grandstand railing. His dark hair was disheveled by the wind and he looked like a prince in his Quidditch uniform, proud and sturdy with one of the quaffles tucked beneath his arm.

“Hi.” He grinned brightly at you as you wordlessly stuck out a hand to give him a piece of chocolate, one he took gladly but not without kissing your gloved knuckles first. From the distance, he had admired you longingly, the sight of you dressed in your bright coat and warm beanie close to the one of a princess. Jace could never stay away from you for long.

“Shouldn’t you play the game?” You challenged him and he looked over to Cregan, who already gestured him to rejoin practice.

“A kiss first.”

Rhaena and Helaena groaned in unison.

You gracefully stood, black cat still in your arms as you leaned over the railing and softly kissed Jace’s lips. He held perfectly still, the press of his lips on yours featherlight as you tucked a curl of his behind his ear.

For only a moment, the suppressed tension in you left your body and you only felt Jace, a high worth chasing for, even if it meant to lose yourself. But just as quickly as it rushed into you, it left with Jace whispering goodbye against you before he had to fly on.

It seemed like the weight sank back onto your shoulders the smaller he became in the sky…

As if the universe had somehow read your mind and decided to do you a great favor, Jacaerys took you to the Prefect’s bathroom in the late afternoon after training. While Jace as a head boy was mostly almost annoyingly responsible and accurate, he and you had often abused his privileges to sneak off into the luxurious hidden bathroom on the fifth floor.

When he had to calm down after a big game or you both needed a break during exam season, you retreated into the big swimming pool, where you sometimes washed his hair for him or he kneaded your legs for you while you told him stories sitting on the edge of the pool.

On other occasions, Jace and you simply were ridiculously horny, such as now.

Currently, you were in his lap, rhythmically rolling your hips as your tongues danced with each other. The hot water of the bath gently splashed against the edges and your hand curled into his wet hair, making him groan in pleasure. Jace’s sounds, his taste in your mouth was addictive, his passionate kisses making you drunk in a way no firewhisky ever could.

You needed to feel him until you completely forgot yourself.

And you were on a pretty good way to get there.

A breathy moan escaped your lips, your half-lidded eyes fixed on his angelic face as you rode his fingers deep inside of you. Jace was holding out a hand beneath your thighs, two of his digits fingering you sensually as his thumb played with your aching clit, luring the sweetest sounds from you.

“Such a good girl…” Jace purred, biting his plump lip as he watched you bounce in his lap. He leaned close, wrapping his lips around your rosy bud, softly biting into your flesh as you moaned loudly from the hot sensation. “Riding my fingers so well, such a sweet angel for me...”

Ever since Jacaerys and you had become a couple, you knew him as a slow and very thorough lover, always attentive and selfless when it came to sleeping together. With the slow roll of his hips and the endless praise, he could make you cry with bliss, dragging out the experience until you’d shatter into pieces in his arms.

But today, you needed him hard.

A part of you wanted him to spin you around and pull you down on his hard length, passionately fucking up into you until you had nothing left in you except for your love for him. But you knew Jace all too well for that.

So, you doubled down your efforts and tried to fuck yourself harder on his fingers.

Jace chuckled, love-drunk on you as he noticed your change of pace. “Eager, are we?” He crooked his fingers inside of you and you mewled, burying your face in his neck as you ground forwards, your tender walls convulsing around him.

“J-Jace…” You sighed, feeling your peak approach as he sucked at the sensitive sweet spot on your neck, his arm coming around you to press you closer against him as he kept on fingering you.

“God, you’re beautiful.” Jace mumbled in awe, tilting your chin up so he could look into your hazy eyes, his own cheeks flushed by the heat and your sight in his lap. “I know you’re close, sweetheart, come on, just a little more, let go for me, angel…”

That was all you needed to hear.

You came, stifling the desperate sounds in your throat by biting down on his shoulder, your thighs quivering as Jace softly talked you through your high, his fingers slowly stilling their movements inside of you. You squeezed your eyes shut, collapsing against him and breathing heavily into his neck.

In the afterglow of your orgasm, Jace pulled you close to his chest and held you tightly, his nose brushing against your cheek as he hummed in satisfaction. As your breath slowly began to calm down again, he let his hand wander up and down your back, especially giving a few tender spots attention as he massaged you until you nearly drooled on his shoulder with relish.

Never in your life had you felt as safe and wanted as you did in Jacaerys’ arms.

“So good…” Jace praised you, completely neglecting his own need that was still very apparent between his legs. “I love you so much, you did wonderfully, baby.”

You shivered, too aware of the sudden knot in your throat to say anything yet. For a while, the two of you simply relaxed like this, Jace’s hand cupping the water ever so often to pour over your naked back so you wouldn’t get cold. You were wound around him like a koala, unwilling to separate yet.

“I was wondering…” You hummed, signaling him you were listening, although you were still floaty. You could feel him smile near your neck, nuzzling the wet skin briefly before he quietly spoke: “…if there’s anything you’d like for Christmas?”

Your breath faltered, but you recovered quickly, swallowing down the lump in your throat. What did you want for Christmas? You wanted to burn your family’s manor to the ground.

To buy yourself more time, you absently kissed Jace’s jaw and licked the sensitive spot under his ear, which made him hiss and stifle a groan under his breath. You carefully paid attention to his reactions, how his hands on your waist tightened briefly and he exhaled shakily, his cock between your thighs stiffening even more until you could almost feel it throbbing against you.

“I want you.” You huskily whispered in his ear. Your fingertips brushed over his tip.

Jace let out a low moan, but shook his head. “You can have me all the time. Something special, think about it.”

“You are special…” You contradicted, kissing him briefly before leaning back in his lap and slowly beginning to stroke him from root to tip, his whole body tensing and relaxing at your much desired touch. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He had no idea how true it was…

“Baby, f-fuck…” Jace breathed, his head falling back and mouth opening to a blissful little o. The wetness between your thighs returned quickly as you jerked him off beneath the surface, the water making the slide of your hand over his curved dick so much better, more intense than you could ever achieve it with spit.

His breath hitched deliciously as you twisted your wrist and pressed little bites and kisses to his chest, Jace’s body and soul exposed and willing just for you. You needed to get him off, needed to convince you that this was forever, that he wasn’t just going to disappear if you closed your eyes for a second too long. You needed to hear your name on his lips, a plea or praise, you didn’t care. You needed to lose yourself in him until everything was alright again.

And so, you continued to take good care of him, until the roaring inside your chest quietened and Jace’s hips bucked into your touch, only his sweet and whiny moans filling the steamy air of the baths around you…

⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆

A freezing cold winter wind blew over the field as the last Quidditch game of the year was in full swing. Gryffindor against Slytherin always drew the most attention and today, every last seat on the grandstands was filled, the crowd of students and teachers from the castle divided into red and green.

You pulled your scarf tighter around yourself as you squinted your eyes against the brightness of the sky, trying to see what your boy was up to up there. Beside you, Rhaena and Luke cheered, spurring Jace and Baela on as they raced towards Slytherin’s goal, passing the quaffle between them before Jace got it and swung it forcefully towards the golden ring.

The crowd erupted with applause and shouts as Jace raised his fist, shouting as Baela and the other players flew past him with cheers. You smiled up at your boyfriend, his joy and pride, before they moved on to defend their goal keeper Cregan now.

“And that’s another goal for Jace Velaryon, ten points for Gryffindor in this very much exciting last game of the season!”

After all, the game was not only so popular because of your rivaling houses. It was also because Jace was playing against both of his uncles, two of the most dreaded beaters of their year.

Today, they had seemed to make themselves the goal to give Jacaerys absolute hell on the field. The brothers were terrors on their brooms, completely ignoring Gryffindor’s seeker and racing after Jacaerys who was trying his best to avoid them in order to score more points for his team.

“What the hell are they doing?” Luke muttered beside you, looking unsure.

Your eyes stayed on Jace who once again looked over his shoulder to see Aegon and Aemond at his heels. “They’re trying to confuse Jace. This isn’t good, something is wrong.”

Dark letter envelopes swirled through your mind, words of your father who demanded for you to end things with Jace before Christmas so you’d be agreeable for the Hightowers. So far, you had not replied to them once and as the realization hit you, you wanted to vomit on the stands. This was the Hightowers’ revenge, to hurt Jace to show you what was at stake.

You saw Aegon lift his wooden club, a determined serpent-like grin on his face as Aemond threw something up in the air for him. You sprang up from your seat, shrieking: “Watch out!”

A shocked gasp went through the crowd as Jace was nearly hit by a bludger, only avoiding it at the last second by dodging it quickly and stirring his broom downwards, losing the quaffle in the process.

“These stupid idiots.” Luke cursed, gritting his teeth. “Why isn’t this called out? They have no business attacking a chaser like this!”

“It seems like there is a personal family feud happening in the sky today, remember to play fair and respect each other.” The commentator called out nervously, the game continuing although Cregan was fiercely discussing and gesturing with the referee on the side of the round field. But today, one of the profs Aegon and Aemond had called the game; everything was possible.

You were on edge, the cold breeze messing with your hair as you followed the game, always keeping an eye out for what Aegon and Aemond were up to. Luckily, they seemed to only mean to scare Jace, keeping the rest of their game pretty tame except for a few harsh bumps into his shoulder when they flew past their nephew.

You could tell Jacaerys kept himself in the background for a while, weary of the brutal energy from the opposite team, letting Baela take the lead and score a row of perfect goals for Gryffindor. When the final whistle echoed across the field, your fellow house members erupted into joyous shouts and a sigh of relief left you as Jacaerys celebrated with his team members.

As everyone on both teams descended down onto the field’s ground again, Jacaerys quickly flew over to where you stood, grinning triumphantly and leaning over the railing to kiss you fiercely. When you rested your hand on his shoulder for balance, you felt him wince.

“Your shoulder?” You whispered as Luke patted his other one and the others around you congratulated him.

Jace shrugged, crooking a smile at you. “Barely a scrape.”

Your eyes widened. “They hit you?”

“It’s alright.” He pecked your cold cheek before Cregan yelled from somewhere under you to get his ass over here and he had to leave. “Don't worry, okay?”

Easier said than done.

When the Quidditch team returned to the castle, you were already waiting for Jace, a small jar with a cooling herb cream resting in your lap. While your friends shared speculoos and hot chocolate by the fire, Jace was sitting in front of you on the soft carpet, leaning into your touch as you applied the salve to his bruised shoulder. You tried to keep up with the conversations around you, but your mind kept trailing off.

Was your life going to look like this from now on, constantly threatened and your love in danger and a target until you’d stop revolting against your parents’ orders?        

That night, you found yourself unable to sleep, staring off at the ceiling of the bedroom’s tower and listening to the wind outside. Everyone had gone to bed early and you had tried to read a little, but found no joy in it. Everything had turned out fine in the end today, why couldn’t you simply let it go?

You sighed, shifting to lay on your side, and stared at the picture frame on your nightstand. There were a few photos of Jace and you in there, but the one you liked most had been taken by the Great Lake earlier this year. You had fallen asleep with your head on Jace’s thigh, your hands still laced together, and he lovingly looked down at you, keeping watch as you found rest.

You stared at the photograph for a long time, but your eyes wouldn’t droop. With a frustrated sigh, you slipped out of bed and out onto the stairwell. But instead of going to the common room, you walked upstairs.

You held your breath as you opened the door to the boys’ bedroom, sneaking in on your tiptoes and squinting your eyes so you wouldn’t stumble over anything on your way to Jace’s bed. You stopped, taking a moment to look at his peaceful, sleeping form. He always had his mouth open a little bit, adorably curled into himself on his side as his chest rose and fell slowly.

A part of you regretted having come here, not wanting to disturb his well-deserved sleep, but another selfish part of you needed him close, to assure yourself everything would be okay in the end.

On his bed, Jacaerys shifted and let out a tiny groan, blinking his eyes open at you. Standing there in your sleeping clothes, you looked like a little ghost and his heart skipped an excited beat at you being here.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” You whispered into the darkness, fearing your voice would break if you raised it any higher. The sounds of ruffling sheets filled the room as Jace shuffled over and made space for you, opening his arms without any hesitation.

“Of course, love. C’mere, ‘s cold…”

You slipped underneath the covers, sighing as you were enveloped by Jace’s warmth, your boyfriend immediately pulling you against him and snuggling his face into your neck.  You slung your arm around his waist and breathed him in, trying to keep the dark thoughts swirling through your mind at bay.

He smelled like home.

He was your home and who could promise that you wouldn’t lose him eventually?

“Did you dream badly?” Jace whispered into your hair and you shook your head, clinging only tighter to him. You wanted to crawl underneath his sleeping shirt, to melt into him until you’d never been seen again.

“…just needed you.” You mumbled tiredly, your nerves calming down a little as Jace caressed you lightly in the dark. He hummed against your temple and kissed your cheek, not interpreting too much into your small words. “Go to sleep again, it’s okay…”

You closed your eyes too, swallowing against the vulnerable tightness in your throat as you slowly felt Jace drift off into sleep again. You internally scolded yourself to get it together, not wanting to risk any hot tears falling upon Jace’s skin. If you tried hard enough, you could pretend just a little longer that you weren’t breaking apart right in his protecting arms…

⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆

In the final two weeks before Christmas, you were sure you were slowly losing it.

As you prepared for the final exams of the year – no professor really having mercy on their oldest students at the castle – a final letter from your parents reached you, with instructions on which fireplace to use in Knockturn Alley to floo-powder travel home. Before that, you were to go to Madame Malkin to pick up a gown, which you were supposed to wear during the dinner to impress Alicent’s sons. The humiliating orders of your parents paired with the stress of all the exams you still had to ace quickly left you spiraling, causing you to retreat into yourself and neglect your friends.

More and more, they all began to talk about going home for Christmas and involuntarily, you had started to snap easily, wanting to be left alone to focus on your work to avoid their questions.

You watched the rain pour down outside of the windows, the busy chattering of the rest of your class like white noise in your ear. You had woken up tired already this morning and now you were stuck in potions class, the one you shared with Jace.

The thoughts about the upcoming holidays and an inevitable confrontation with your parents were eating you alive and you couldn’t concentrate, reading over the recipe of the potion you were supposed to make over and over again without understanding the words.

Beside you, Jacaerys worked away on his own kettle, but he had been keeping watch of you for a while now, gnawing at his bottom lip with concern. 

Since the Quidditch game, he could feel you slowly slipping from his grasp, distancing yourself when you spent time with your friends and going to bed early and getting up late. You fell asleep in the common room often, in his arms where he could see the dark circles underneath your eyes or alone on the couch by the fire until he had to wake you up for dinner. You ate less than usual and were only seen around in his hoodies, staring into space and daydreaming.

Jace worried about you, but you seemed not very eager to share your worries with him. In retrospect, he could now see that you had been retreating into yourself for a while now and he hated himself for not seeing it earlier. Now it seemed, all he could do was to be there for you and show he was listening if you wanted to open up to him.

“Remember, students, the mixture we are making today is intended to be only brewed by seventh year students for a reason!” Your professor walked between the aisles, peeking into a few kettles here and there. “You are to handle it with utmost carefulness.”

Jace noticed you staring at the parchment in front of you, your eyes not moving to read. He leaned over, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Baby? Could you hand me the goat hair you got over there?”

You perked up and his heart clenched at your glassy eyes, your pale skin. You rummaged around in the boxes you had been given, attempting a smile as you gave the vial to him. “There you go.”

He let his fingers brush over yours for a moment before you retreated, going back to your own potion. Jace suppressed a sigh, catching Baela’s eyes from across the room who had been watching the small exchange. They were all worried about you and you knew.   

If you didn’t find a way to prevent the forging of the poisonous band your family planned for you, you were not only going to lose yourself. You were going to lose every single one of your friends. Your hands started shaking at the thought of them despising you, avoiding you in Hogwarts and having to pick up the broken pieces you would leave between Jace and you when you eventually would have to end things before you hurt him even further…

You shuddered, grabbing one of the smoking glasses in the middle of the table for your kettle. What would Jace think if he saw one of his uncles and you, on the first page of the Daily Prophet, announcing the union between the Hightowers and your family-

The glass slipped from your grasp, the contents briefly sloshing against your hand before it all shattered on the ground.

The students around you gasped, taking a step back in fright while Jace took one closer to you, reaching out a hand. You heard him speaking to you, hushed and fast, but you couldn’t comprehend what he said as you looked at your hand in shock.

Burning streaks painted the palm of your hand red as if you had attempted and failed badly to catch a whip mid-air. You stared at the wound in disbelief for a moment.

Then, the pain came.

“Oh my goodness, hold on everyone, reparo!” The professor hurried over to your side and you silently watched as the broken glass to your feet levitated up on the table until all the liquor was back inside and sat perfectly in front of you. “What have I told you about handling this ingredient carefully?”

“Professor, she’s hurt.” Jace said, his voice dripping with worry for you. You could not look into his eyes, afraid of what you’d find in them. “She needs to go to the infirmary.”

You tried to take a steady breath and to your own shock, a little sob escaped your lips instead, just barely audible. The burn on your hand felt like wildfire spreading, but there was something else aching in you too, the stress and worries of the last week making it all worse. You knew if you’d stayed, you’d break down in front of everyone in the class.

You were not going to let them see.

Brushing off Jace’s hand on your shoulder, you made your way straight towards the door, not looking back despite the protests of your professor and Jace calling out your name. You tried to blink away the hot tears burning in your eyes, clutching your shaking hand close to your chest, but by the time you nearly ran down the corridor, they were already overflowing.

It was all too much.

Behind you, you heard Jace sprinting down the hallway after you and your chest only tightened, panicked at the thought of him seeing you like this. Just as you wanted to take a corner and disappear out of his sight, he reached out, gently touching your arm and holding you back.

“Baby, you need to go to the infirmary, Madame Pomfrey has to take a look at that.” Jace insisted emphatically, turning you around to face him. “Let me walk you-…”

You stared at your feet, not meeting his eyes as he took in your miserable state. Your nose already felt stuffy and your head hurt from keeping down your tears, heart pounding achingly in your chest. Jace opened his mouth to say something, shocked and worried to see you so sorrowfully.

“What’s going on, love?” He asked softly, stepping in front of you and shielding you from a group of passing students. You pressed your lips together, unable to answer and shaking your head instead. Jacaerys gently laid his arm around you, careful not to brush against your hurt hand, quickly thinking about what this all meant.

“Let’s go to Madame Pomfrey together, okay?” He said gently. “She needs to look at this, I bet it hurts, huh?”

At his soft tone with you, you let out a tiny whimper, hiding your face in his shoulder as he shushed you comfortingly, starting to walk with you. “Sh sh, it’s going to be alright, I promise. We need to cool this, c’mon, we’re halfway there, okay?”

You let yourself be led by him, exhausted and not strong enough anymore to keep up the act that everything was fine. On your way through the hallways, you disassociated a little, Jace’s arm around you and his whispered comforts the only thing keeping you halfway in the present moment. At least there was no one else at Madam Pomfrey’s desk, saving you from further humiliation.

“Hello dear, what can I- oh goodness, what has happened?” The elderly woman came around the table and inspected your hand.

“We were in Potions and one of the ingredients spilled.” Jace explained calmly, although his voice trembled. He led you towards one of the chairs by the entrance of the hall, staying by your side as the nurse took your hand and cooed compassionately. “I think it was a burn potion?”

“Yes, it looks like it.” Madame Pomfrey looked at you. “You must be in great pain, my dear.”

You had been for a long time.

“It’s nothing that’ll leave a permanent mark, we’ll cool this and then there’s a potion that should help as well overnight, hold on.” You watched silently as she returned with a slick cloth and hissed as she slowly placed it down on your palm. Jace’s hand on your shoulder caressed you soothingly and you bit your lip through the pain, not wanting to make a sound.

After she had wrapped your hand, Madame Pomfrey left for her potion cabinet, leaving Jace and you alone. Your hand throbbed dully, but the pain was slowly fading away and Jace sat down beside you, gently taking your other hand in his.

“Will you talk to me?” He asked quietly and without pressure. “I can tell something is wrong, dear. There has been for a while now, hasn’t it?”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair and playing with your hand in his. Closing your red eyes in defeat, you told him. “My parents have written to me to come home over Christmas. They want me to meet the Hightowers with them to-…They think a match with either Aegon or Aemond will be beneficial for the family.”

Jace exhaled, the expression on his face unreadable as he clenched his jaw.

“I-“ You searched for the words you had kept down for so long. “They don’t care for my opinion at all. I’m just a valuable chess piece and they move me however they want for their own wealth and station. It doesn’t matter what I want or what I think and-  I’m going to lose you and everyone will hate me, this is only the beginning of their schemes, I know it-“

Jace stopped you in your rambling and wordlessly took you into his arms, his hands itching to take his wand and simply hex your sorrow away. Something in you broke at his gentle embrace and you slumped against him, letting the tears flow as he brushed over your hair and kissed the top of your head.

“You’re not ever going to lose me, love.” He murmured, his need to comfort you clashing against the rage he nurtured for the other side of his family. “I’m not going to let this happen.”

“Me neither.” You sniffled hopelessly, looking up at him through glassy eyes. “I would rather die than engage with them. But I’m scared of what they’ll do if I don’t comply. If you’re getting hurt because of me, I will lose it.”

You felt yourself hyperventilating, but Jace took your tear-streaked face between his hands and deeply looked at you, making you focus entirely on him. “Hey, hey. No one will get hurt, okay? I promise you this, you will not lose me, my love. No matter what happens, me and my family will have your back. We’re adults now, we’re graduating next year, no one can tell you anything or force you to an arrangement like this. You only belong to yourself and I will not let them take you from me, alright?”

You nodded miserably, remembering your bandaged hand just before you wanted to wipe your cheek. Jacaerys smiled softly at you, brushing the tears away from you and kissing your forehead.

“Is this why you have been so distant recently?” Jace asked gently and you nodded in defiance.

“I didn’t mean to.” You said guiltily. “I was just so stressed and…I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Jace said, drawing you close again and resting your head on his shoulder. “I just wished I could’ve helped you earlier, you don’t have to go through this alone. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You sniffled one last time before the last of your tears tried and you felt a little lighter on the inside. Squeezing his hand, you took a deep breath while the two of you sat huddled together in the silence of the hospital wing.

After a while, the pain in your hand had retreated almost all the way and you longed for your bed. You let out a small yawn and Jace chuckled, nuzzling his cheek against your head.

“You know, if I would’ve known, I would’ve asked you this so much earlier.” Jace shook his head, softly cupping your cheek and stroking your heated skin. “Will you spend Christmas with me? You can stay over at my family’s home for the entire holidays, we have enough space. I’ve been thinking about it for some time now and I want you there with all of us, more than ever now. My mother would be delighted to have you, we all would. And I can’t have you going to your parents now, I just can’t. Hey, please don’t cry again.”

You laughed watery, not able to stop the emotional tears from coming. You were overwhelmed by Jace’s question, how much love laid in his proposal and you couldn’t stop your heart from screaming out yes, yes, yes.

You pressed your forehead against Jace’s, playing with his hair as you smiled. “Yes. It would be an honor to be with your family for the holidays. I want to spend Christmas with you, if you’ll have me.”

“I always will. My home is yours.” Jace mumbled softly, wanting to press a kiss to your nose. 

“And you are mine.” You whispered back and were quicker, pulling him down into a slow kiss and putting all of what you felt in that moment into it as your lips slowly moved against each other, Jace’s hand resting on your waist while the other disappeared in your hair, tilting your head to the side.

You’d protect him just as he was going to protect you.

And as you two kissed and Madame Pomfrey eventually walked in on you, the way Jacaerys jumped even made you giggle, you knew you were going to be alright.

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On Christmas morning, you woke up in the arms of the love of your life.

Above you, there was a beautiful hanging mobile, its little dragons dancing in the warm morning sun. You smiled, enjoying the way the sunbeams fell onto the checkered thick blankets of the bed, how the old heater by the window crackled and the quiet sounds of the house made it feel like a real home.

Stifling a little yawn, you nestled back into Jace’s embrace, your boyfriend still in dreamland as you slowly took in your surroundings. Jacaerys was plastered against your back, one of his arms slung over you and resting protectively on your stomach underneath his shirt you had stolen. The other rested under your head as a pillow for you and you noticed with amusement how his hand twitched from time to time while he was dreaming.

Jace’s childhood bedroom was exactly how you had imagined it to be.

On a big shelf in front of his bed were countless books on magical history and dragons, whether they were biographies or travel reports, the great novels of famous wizards and witches and tales he had read when he was younger. On the walls were photos of his family and friends at Hogwarts and you, again and again and again, smiling back at yourself from every corner of the room. His closet was a neat mix of hoodies – which you wanted to take with you, preferably all of them – casual clothes and more elegant things to wear for official gatherings of his well-known family.

Underneath the covers of his twin-size bed, you felt safe, sheltered from the rest of the world and you sighed happily, snuggling your cheek against his bicep just as Jace stirred behind you.

You turned in his arms and you felt as if your heart was golden when the morning sun reflected in Jace’s brown eyes blinking sleepily at you.

“Good morning.” You whispered, a besotted smile on your face as Jace’s face scrunched up and he quickly turned his head so he wouldn’t yawn in your face.

You laughed quietly, snuggling closer to him underneath the thick blanket you shared and tangling your legs together. Jace sighed blissfully and pecked your cheek as he brushed your hair back behind your ear. Your hand had been healed for several days now. “’morning, beautiful. Merry Christmas.”

You smiled, although a little sadness remained inside of you. Maybe it was not ever going to leave again. “Merry Christmas, Jace.”

Ever since you had arrived at the town house of Jacaerys’ family in London, the Targaryens had done everything to give you a warm welcome after you had never showed up at Knockturn Alley to throw a hand of floo-powder to the fire. Jace’s brothers had been particularly excited to meet you, the girl on Jace’s photos and his mind when he was home during summer, and his mother and step-father had been pleased to finally meet you as well.

Two days ago, far in the evening when you had sat close to Jace in the living room and listened to one of Rhaenys’ stories as glasses of cherry wine were shared and candles lit, a final letter from your parents had reached you.

Seven simple words on paper for all eternity.

You are no daughter of ours anymore.

While you had stared wordlessly at the message in your lap, Rhaenyra and Daemon quickly had sent everyone else to bed until only the adults, Jace and you remained. A whirlwind of emotions had rushed through you then and before you knew what came over you, it was like a dam had broken and you were crying. With Jace’s arm securely around you as he softly whispered into your ear and Rhaenyra reaching over to hold your hand, you had mourned the relationship you never had with your parents, the tears both suffocating and freeing you at once.

You were released from their clutches, after all.

And you had been lucky enough to find your real family along the way.

After that, when Jace and you had gone to bed and you had slept through the entire night, the holidays had been going splendidly. And when Rhaenyra had assured you during breakfast that you stood under her family’s protection now, you knew you were going to be okay.

For the first time, you truly felt at home.

You went for walks around the neighborhood, building snowmen with Jace’s little twin brothers and making hot chocolates for everyone in the afternoons. You made gingerbread houses with Baela and Rhaena and asked Rhaenyra all about her career as an auror. Daemon you had beat at Wizard’s chess, leaving him speechless while Jacaerys cackled in the background.

One afternoon, Jace’s family had left the house for some last errand running before Christmas and he had loved you in front of the fireplace, slowly eating you out and letting his hands wander over your naked body on the furs...You had rode him until the two of you were breathless and you had almost drooled on Jace’s shoulder in bliss as he had rocked into you at a toe-curling slow pace.

You smiled at the memory, happily closing your eyes and leaning into his touch when Jace started to softly kiss your neck, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your waist as he pulled you half-atop of him. Like this, your leg was hooked over his side and his hand cupped your cheek, keeping you close while he ravished you with little kisses.

“Jace, we should go downstairs…” You breathed, your eyes fluttering closed and mouth dropping open as Jacaerys paid special attention to the sweet spot on your neck now, nibbling at the sensitive skin before licking over it soothingly.

Jace let out a hoarse little sound, something between a groan and a whine. “Five more minutes…” He nuzzled his face into your shoulder and you chuckled, combing softly through his hair while he cuddled with you.

“Don’t you want to get your gifts?” You teased him playfully and squealed when he squeezed your bum, which ultimately ended in a small pillow war until you threatened to hex every of his books to fly an attack on him.

He smirked at you as he helped you out of bed, a small flushing adorning his pretty face. “I already got the best gift right here.”

And how were you supposed to not kiss him right then?

It only took a little more convincing and willpower to not stay in bed with Jace until you two descended down the staircase together, the excited sounds and conversations from the big salon guiding your way. Jace had changed into a dress shirt and some nice tailored pants while you wore a dark velvet dress with a turtleneck, the ballerina shoes on your feet a festive red. In your hair, you wore a bow and Jace squeezed your hand in his before you walked into the room to join his family, stopping briefly one more time to kiss underneath the mistletoe that hung in the hallway.

“Good morning, everyone!” Jace beamed as the little twins ran up to him, excitingly talking over each other about what they got for Christmas. “Did you get some nice things this year, guys?”

Rhaenyra smiled warmly at you and you looked into the round, a little shy out of the sudden to be present at such a family-centric moment. “Merry Christmas…”

Rhaenys invitingly patted the empty space between her on the couch and you joined her, Baela and Rhaena as the twins pulled Jace over to the large Christmas tree. There was a little locomotive flying around it as it chu-chued and the ornaments had a certain spark to them that could only be explained by a charm.

“Jace look, we got a magic kit to make fireworks!” Aegon and Viserys basically vibrated with happiness. “We are going to blow up the ministry!”

Daemon barked out an amused laugh, looking at their sons proudly while Rhaenyra just shook her head. “No, we are not blowing anything up, you can at least wait until New Year, boys.”

Meanwhile, Corlys and Luke were busy with a big photograph book the latter got, the pictures of the sea and its many creatures and legends coming to life and nearly making a wet mess on the ground between them.

“We’re so glad you’re here.” Baela nudged you in the side, lacing your fingers together while Rhaena did the same on your other side. “You’re part of our family. That's all that matters, alright?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice as you hugged them both. You watched together as Jace unpacked a large present, revealing a brand-new Quidditch gear and looking at his parents speechlessly before he went to hug them both tightly. In the room, presents left hands and found new ones and soon, the ground was littered with gift wrapping paper and Jace had gravitated towards you again, sitting down in an armchair as well and bidding you over silently.

His family, sensing the coming moment of quiet between you, went on with unpacking and gifting each other as you sat down on Jace’s knee and smiled at him.

“You haven’t opened yours yet.” Jace mumbled mysteriously and you gasped as he pulled out a little box.

“Jace, you didn’t have to-“

“I wanted to.” Jace insisted, his thumb caressing your thigh as he looked at you seriously. “I love you. It’s Christmas. And…I hope you’ll like it, if not, I could bring it back and you can choose something else-“

You opened the bow around the box and opened the lid, your hands shaking despite yourself. Inside, bedded on a little velvet pillow, waited the most beautiful necklace you had ever seen. It was a delicate thing, a shiny pearl hugged and protected by a swirl of silver. Your finger brushed over the piece before you looked at Jace in disbelief.

“Jace…it’s beautiful.” You couldn’t help the tears welling up in your eyes. “It feels magical, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Jace said shyly, carefully brushing your hair over your shoulder so he could help you put it on. The cool silver rested perfectly around your neck as Jace’s hand splayed out on your lower back. “It’s…us. Here, take a look.” He lifted the pearl to your face and it took you a moment to see what he meant.

It was hard to explain. For a second, you only saw the smooth surface of the irregular pearl, but then it changed, making room for…memories. You stared into it in awe, as moments of Jace and you flashed before your vision.

You and him on the train to Hogwarts, sharing sweets and napping. The two of you studying together outside by the lake, a blanket thrown over your legs while you made little fireflies dance over your heads. Sharing breakfast at the Great Hall and kissing in the rain. His laughter and yours. A whisper of I love you in your ear. Jace smiling at you and lacing your fingers together…All these tiny moments that made life and love with him so good.

You slowly put down the pearl, lost for hours as you looked at your boyfriend. “I…I have never possessed something as wonderful as this, in my entire life, Jace.”

Jacaerys flushed a bright red, cooing at you when you quickly brushed a tear away. “I’m glad you like it, angel, but please, I can’t see you crying on a day like this.”

You laughed quietly, lifting his chin and kissing him slowly before leaning your forehead against his and whispering: “Thank you. It’s so beautiful, I love it. I love you.”

“Love you too…” He smiled at you. “I’m so glad I could pull this charm off, it wasn’t as easy as the books said.”

You poked his shoulder playfully. “Speaking of charms.” You reached into the pocket of your dress, producing a little package of your own. “Uh-uh, don’t look at me like that, if you get to surprise me, I can return the favor. Give me your hand. And close your eyes.”

Jace complied, waiting curiously as you fumbled with something in his lap. Then, he felt something cool on his wrist and opened his eyes again, meeting your bright smile as his heart melted.

“It’s an enchanted bracelet.” You explained to him as he looked at it, fascinated by the way the little dragon scales seemed to move, its subtle green shimmer perfectly matching Vermax’. “There’s a spell on it meaning to protect you from harm and bring you good luck.”

You didn’t have to tell him part of the reason why you’d chosen it for him. A part of you would continue to worry, but as long as Jace was with you, you were strong. You both made each other strong.

Jace looked at you softly and with understanding in his eyes and turned the bracelet on his wrist, in awe of your pure talent.

“I also made sure it can’t slip off during a Quidditch game-“

He swallowed the rest of your sentence with a kiss.

You smiled against his lips, letting yourself be kissed by him and nearly forgetting that you were in fact not alone. For just one more moment, you let yourself be surrounded by him, his hand still securely on your waist as the other played with your new necklace before-

“Hey lovebirds! Come on, breakfast is ready!” Luke called over from the doorframe and you and Jace laughed together as you helped him up. The rest of your family already was in the dining room, busy with finding seats and talking over each other.

“Thank you.” Jace whispered at you, laying an arm around your shoulder. “For everything. These are the best Christmas holidays ever.”

“We haven’t even had our New Years party.” You hummed, excited for the future for the first time in a long time.

“I can’t wait.” Jace grinned, holding out the chair for you at your family’s table.

Yes, you couldn’t wait to see what the future brought.

You smiled at him. “Me neither.”

my taglist (open): @princesschimchim1325 @cecestea @jacesvelaryons @princessvelaryon @diannnnsss @mattnott @hattiewritesalot @chocotorta2027 @mckennah123 @still-jon-snow

[morelikeravenbore]

Feigning Indifference

"— And on the edge of it all, standing alone by the stands, there's you: arms crossed, little pout on your cute face, feigning indifference."

 (I promised Quidditch!smut for the girlies a literal year ago, oop. 🐢🐢🐢 Anyhoo...)

Rated: Explicit. MDNI. NSFW. 🔞

Content warnings: f!reader, no mention of house or appearance, size difference kink, semi-public sex, voyeurism/exhibitionist fantasies, possessive!Sebastian, Beater!Sebastian, feral!Sebastian, excessive use of the word fuck, p in v, unprotected sex.

Word count: 1.8k

[MASTERLIST] [WATTPAD]

Sebastian descends onto the Quidditch pitch, wind-swept, sweat-soaked — victorious.

Like a stone in quicksand, he's swallowed up by the cheering throng of admirers before he's even fully off his broom; Slytherin's mostly, their faces painted emerald, scarves transfigured into woolly snakes around their necks — they crowd around him, beside themselves with the thrill of Sebastian's triumph, back-slapping, hand-shaking, cheek-kissing. Sebastian is glad to be wearing his protective gear against the most enthusiastic among them — not that he's weak without his shoulder pads and arm guards, but some thump him so hard with their congratulations that he wonders if they're Gryffindor’s in disguise trying to put him out of action before the next match.

Once he's past the worst of it, he shirks off his Beater's gear: pads, guards, helmet (even cup, which he unashamedly yanks right out of his pants) hit the ground in quick succession, discarded for the teams’ first-year assistant to collect in his wake (provided his rabid fan club doesn't get to them first.)

Thanks to his seventh-year growth spurt, Sebastian is hardly any smaller without his bulky gear on — a fact he uses to his full advantage to shoulder through the crowd. It takes him several minutes to wind his way through; supporters and haters in equal measure jostle for his attention, girls squeal and find excuses to touch him, Imelda criticises his technique as he passes (even though he just won her the bloody match), and somebody lets off a series of explosions overhead that shower the crowd with green and silver sparks. — And on the edge of it all, standing alone by the stands, there's you: arms crossed, little pout on your cute face, feigning indifference. 

He wants to kiss the frown right off your face. 

‘There you are.’ He grins down at you. You glare up at him.

‘Seven different girls touched your shoulders just now,’ you grumble, scanning your narrowed eyes over the crowd. ‘Two more touched your chest, and that last one tried to climb you.’

Sebastian's grin widens, delighting in your jealousy. ‘Did they?’ He affects a look of innocence. ‘I didn't notice.’

‘Liar.’ You shoot him a deeply contemptuous look. ‘Maybe I should take up Quidditch, see how you like seeing your girlfriend being groped after every match.’

His amusement drops faster than a fumbled Quaffle. Usually, he finds your little jealous streak endearing — after pining after you for two long years, convinced his feelings were one-sided, your possessiveness makes him embarrassingly gooey-eyed and lovesick. But today he's too jacked up on adrenaline to let that comment slide: nobody touches you but him. Not even in your imagination. 

With no more effort than he expends on waving his Beater's bat around (less, even), he lifts you with one arm, bringing your face level with his. 

‘I wouldn't let you play Quidditch,’ he says lowly, his voice deep with authority.

Authority which you completely ignore, like always.

Incensed, you scoff and wiggle and squirm for freedom (‘Ugh, put me down, you brute! — You can't tell me what to do! — If I want to play Quidditch, you can't stop me!’) but Sebastian only waits, watching your little tantrum with a mix of resigned patience and wry amusement. 

‘You're not the boss of me!’ you wail. You’re tiny in his grip, slender limbed and delicate, but you’re agile enough to break free if he doesn’t handle you right. His arm tightens around you, pinning you so firmly against his chest that you squeak. 

‘Yes,’ he growls in your face, ‘I am.’

Despite all the height and the strength he’s gained since you met in fifth year (or the physique if all the giggles and whispers about his shoulders are to be believed), Sebastian is, generally speaking, an unapologetic softie when it comes to you: the most precious thing he's ever beheld, there's not a girl alive more loved than you. But fresh off the field, bolstered by the dizzying rush of glory and adrenaline, all his usual gentleness eludes him. — Suddenly, he wants to do more than kiss the frown off your face. 

A hot lick of desire alights in his belly, as familiar as it is impossible to ignore. Without another word, he hoists you higher and carries you off beneath the stands; game forgotten, celebrations be damned, he only has eyes for you, little doll, little bunny caught in his hungry gaze, so small and soft and devourable. 

You yelp when your back meets the wall, but hidden now deep in shadows, Sebastian only grins, wolfish. Grateful he'd thought to discard his cup, he pins you there with his hips, making sure you feel every sudden aching inch of him between your legs. 

You're his now. You both know it. 

‘How can you be jealous when you're the only one who does this to me?’ He leans in close enough to spill hot words right into your pretty, parted mouth. ‘I should fuck you standing. Right here,’ — he punctuates with a sharp thrust that makes you gasp, — ‘right now.’

Your eyes go wide, but whether you're scandalised by his audacity or desperate for him to keep whispering filth, Sebastian doesn't particularly care.

He wants to fuck the shock right off your face. 

‘R-right here?’ The wobble in your voice makes him twitch. He grinds into you again, sloooowly this time, rolling the entire length of himself against you while he watches you shift from stubborn brat to good fucking girl; no matter how many times he's seen you like this, flushed pink and panting, he's still utterly obsessed with the moment you finally give in. 

Because you always give in. 

‘Why not?’ He begins the careful crumbling of your resolve with the top button of your blouse, then the second button, third, fourth… But by the fifth his patience snaps and he yanks — hard; no need for a vanishing charm, he rips your shirt clean open. Buttons pop off in all directions; he knows you'll scold him for that later, but right now you only have strength enough to whimper. 

‘What if they see?’ You palm his shoulders — but you're pulling, not pushing. 

‘Let them.’ His lips are on the hollow of your collarbone, sucking shivers out of you. ‘Let them watch me fucking ruin you.’

Yanking you away from the wall, he spins you around and envelopes you from behind, one arm curled so tightly around your waist you couldn't wiggle free even if you wanted to. Not that you do want to; that much is clear when his other hand slides beneath your undies. Fingers slick, he fucking moans his way down the side of your neck, his tongue laving a hot, wet stripe down to your shoulder. 

‘You think I want to touch any of them like this, huh?’ He bundles your little body against him like a blanket, his arms taut and muscles straining as he works your moans free with his hands and his tongue. You buck obediently against his palm, and when he slides two thick, long fingers inside you, your knees give out. He holds you up, pinned pretty to his chest, your tits heaving in the open air, nipples begging to be painted wet by his hungry mouth. 

Sweat drips from his hair and lands on your face. ‘You think I want to fuck any of them the way I fuck you?’

Through the gaps between the stands, the Quidditch pitch is empty, quickly abandoned for post-match festivities (or commiserations if you're a Gryffindor). He imagines marching you back out there right now fucking you in the middle of it, stripping you bare and pounding you silly while the teams debrief in the changerooms and the Slytherin's celebrate their win in the dungeons. — He'd never do it for real, of course, but the fantasy of claiming you so openly, having you exposed and babbling on his cock for anyone to see makes him dizzy. 

He wants everyone to know you're his. 

The thought makes him fucking — lose — it. 

Hot and thick in his hand, he strokes himself free from his trousers with frantic pumps and a long, drawn-out whimper. If he's teetering on the edge of control, then you don't stand a chance; he hoists your leg up and rubs himself desperately against your underwear, mouthing your neck from behind, palming your tits with his big, calloused hand. Never has he been more grateful for all the grueling training sessions that have granted him the strength to manhandle you onto his cock whenever the mood strikes.

Undies bunched to the side, you arch your back and reach an arm around his shoulder, begging, begging, begging even as he's pushing in, in, into you. The sound he makes when he's fully sheathed is nothing short of feral; he stumbles forward, that hot, tight squeeeeeze of you so good it makes him weak in the knees. 

It's fucking unbearable what you do to him, the way you make him dribble and buck and moan all sorts of dirty things in your little ear — the way you make him lose control. 

‘Look at you,’ he slurs, anchoring you to his body with the full, hot length of his cock. ‘S'fucking good, s’all fucking mine.’

Holding your leg up, he sets a slow, deep rhythm and imagines himself watching you: a last-minute straggler drawn to your hiding place by your sweet moans. He imagines how pretty you'd look all stretched out and stuffed full of himself, tits bouncing, mouth agape with pleasure, too fucked out of your mind to realise how loud you are. He'd touch himself to it — oh fuck yes he would, edging himself to time his climax with yours. And maybe you'd notice him, a pair of dark eyes burning with desire. Maybe you'd like it. Maybe it'd make you cum harder. 

Fuck. Lust roils thick and luscious in his stomach and he makes a mental note to fuck you in front of a mirror next time. 

He's gasping now, slamming into you so hard your foot almost leaves the ground with every thrust.

‘If only —’ he groans, ‘— they could — see you —’ He drops his head to your shoulder and bites. ‘You're the — ngh — only one — oh, fuck —’

Surely you know — surely you understand that it's always been you; that the way you surrender makes him feel strong; that being inside you makes him feel less broken. Surely you know that he uses his body to say the things he can't put into words. 

It's more than sex: he fucking loves you. 

Your peak hits you first: a long, slow, wet release that Sebastian rides out as best he can without falling over. He moans along with you, echoing ecstasy into your ear, holding you up while your body succumbs to the overwhelming love he gives and gives and gives over to you. And when you're done, spent and shivering in his arms, sweet and limp and loved to the extreme, he follows. 

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

Hii there!! Can you write something about George Weasley where he and the reader have been really good friends for a while but start secretly dating because of some stupid rule like quidditch players can’t date during the season or something like that? And they get caught by their friends being intimate after a game?

Ps: love your writing style so much, your fics are so easy to get into and beautifully written💕

thank you for the request! hope your enjoy 🫶

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| George Weasley x fem!reader

cw: light smut (heavy petting/making out), sneaking around/secret relationship, jealous!george, assault via bludger, oliver wood is a cock block.

MDNI 18+

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You were walking down the hall with Luna, chatting about the results your divination exam, when a hand shot out and yanked you into a dark, empty classroom.

“Fancy seeing you here,” your captor said in a very familiar, cheeky voice.

“You can't just kidnap me, Weasley.” You cross your arms over your chest, jutting out a hip.

“Kidnapping is a bit dramatic.” George’s hands slide around your waist. “Can't a bloke want to spend a few moments with his girl?” He leaned down, his lips brushing along the column of your throat.

You craned your head back for him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Perhaps. But still, some warning would be nice.”

His lips connected with yours in a soft, languid kiss. “Consider yourself warned,” he grinned.

You breathed a content sigh, taking your fingers through his ginger hair while he peppered featherlight kisses along your cheeks, your forehead, your eyelids. The last few weeks had been so challenging thanks to Woods new rule about dating during Quidditch season.

You and George had been circling one another since fourth year, waiting for the right moment to dip your toes into something more than friendship. And of course, when the stars finally aligned, Wood had to throw a wrench in your new relationship. So now, instead of basking in your honeymoon phase, you were forced to sneak around, hiding your relationship from everyone.

But Fred, obviously. George couldn't lie to his twin even if he wanted to.

“You're in your head, darling,” George murmured, pulling back to look at your face in the dim light.

“Am not,” you argued, dragging your hands down his chest and sliding them under his robes. The sweater beneath was soft and thick, warm from his body heat.

“What are you thinking about?” He kissed your temple, across your cheekbone, beneath your ear…

You hummed, leaning into him, soaking up his heat, his unhurried affection.

“Love?” He prodded, nipping at your ear.

“Just how much I like you,” you whispered, resting your chin on his sternum when he pulled back.

A smile spread across his freckled face. “My sweet girl,” he cooed. “I like you too.”

You pressed your lips to his, brushing your tongue along his lower lip, and his hands tightened on your waist. He parted his lips for you to delve deeper, matching every stroke of your tongue with his until you were panting, clawing at his sweater to get closer.

He backed you against a desk, his hand sliding under your skirt to squeeze your ass, notching your hips against his. A gasp squeaked for your throat when he ground himself against you, already growing sensitive.

He chuckled. “Gonna to have to be quiet f’me, love. Don't want go get caught with a Beater, aye?”

You nodded, clamping your lips shut.

The Quidditch season was only three months. How hard could it be?

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Quidditch practice ran late for the third night in a row, and you were desperate for some attention from your boyfriend.

You lurked by the Gryffindor locker rooms, waiting for George to emerge, freshly showered in his favorite hoodie and sweats. Your mouth nearly watered at the thought.

But player after player trailed out of the locker room, and no George. You were getting impatient, shifting form foot to foot when you spotted Fred walking with Ron, chatting animatedly about the match this weekend.

You grabbed Fred’s wrist and yanked him to the corridor you were hiding.

“Oi! What—oh, hey y/n.” He smirked down at you, waggling his eyebrows. “Wrong twin, but—”

“Ew, Fred! No! Where's George?”

Fred snickered. “Still in the shower. Pitch was muddy and he got a face full from Thomas.”

You grimaced. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, he was livid. But, he's the last one in there if you want to cheer him up.” Fred winked and slipped back into the hall, leaving you to your mischief.

You scampered down the corridor and into the locker room, following the trail of steam until you found the only drawn curtain. George was humming to himself, tapping his feet on the tile floor.

You clapped a hand over your mouth to avoid laughing and ruining the surprise, and perched on the bench across from the curtain to wait.

A few moments later, the water cut off and his hand poked through the curtain, grabbing the red towel off the hook.

The curtain ripped open, and George yelped in surprise, nearly dropping the towel slung low around his hips.

“Fancy seeing you here.” You grinned.

“You little minx.” He grabbed you off the bench and into his still damp chest, kissing you fiercely. “I was just about to come see you,” he said between sloppy kisses, backing you against a row of lockers.

“Were you?” You giggled as his lips moved down your neck, sending tingles skittering across your skin. You dragged your nails cross his bare back, admiring the way his muscles jumped at your touch.

“Couldn't stand another night without you,” he admitted. He started undoing the buttons of your blouse, clearly feeling as desperate as you did based on the tent in his towel.

“Eager, are we?” You teased, hiking your leg over his hip as his hand slid into your skirt.

His middle finger swiped through your slit, teasing your clit with small circles. Pleasure pulsed through you, making your eyes roll back. “Someone is. Already soaked for me, love,” he groaned, capturing your lips in another bruising kiss as he toyed with you.

“Fuck, Georgie,” you whined, bucking your hips against his hand.

“Merlin, I missed you.”

“Weasley, you still in here?” Wood called his voice echoing around room.

“Bloody fucking—stall, now.” George slipped his fingers from you and into his mouth, ushering you into the shower stall he just vacated. The air was still humid and scented by his vanilla body wash. No, your vanilla body wash, you realized, spotting the bottle you'd been missing still sitting on the shelf.

“Still hangin’ around, Wood?” You heard George say.

“I wanted to talk to ya’ about somethin’,” Oliver said, and you saw his boots enter the shower room from under the curtain.

“Can I put trousers on first?”

Oliver snorted. “Sure, mate.”

You heard George shuffling around, pulling on his clothes.

“Fucking trousers don't hide shit,” he grumbled to himself and you had a stifle another laugh. “Alright, Wood. What's on your mind?”

“You've been distracted, Weasley. Missing bludgers, ignoring plays, it's not like you to not take Quidditch seriously,” Oliver said, and you frowned.

George sighed. “It's, ah, there's an assignment in Herbology that's gone tits up. Damn plant won't grow,” George said.

“Uh huh,” Wood answered, clearly not buying it. “Well, maybe it's time your sort out your priorities, mate. Not sure a plant is worth throwing the season, if ya’ know what I mean. We need our best Beater, yeah?”

Your stomach dropped, indignation at Woods words colliding with the newfound guilt in your mind. George loved Quidditch. You didn't want to be the reason he wasn't playing well. But also…what if that meant Quidditch was higher priority to him? Where did that leave you?

“Understood, Captain.” George's voice was cold, a stark contrast to his usual chipper demeanor, and it raised goosebumps along your arms.

Oliver clapped him on the shoulder and left the locker room, evidently oblivious to the shift in George. The door clicked shut behind him, echoing around the empty room.

George tugged the shower curtain open, startling you from your spiralling thoughts. He immediately clocked the distress on your face, the corners of his mouth turning downward. “Oh, lovey—”

“I didn't know I was impacting the team,” you mumbled, looking down at your shoes.

George tilted your chin up, his other arm wrapping around your waist. “Baby, the teams fine. Wood just has a stick up his ass. I played great today, and always do when you're in the stands watching me.”

It was true. Some of his best games had been in the last month you'd been together.

“And besides, I don't need to sort out my priorities.” He bumped his nose against yours. “You always come first, y/n.”

Your heart soared, heat creeping up your neck. “Before Quidditch?” You asked, curling your hands into his hoodie.

“Before everything.” He kissed you softly, with no real pressure, just feeling you against him, and all your anxiety fell away. “C’mon, Freddie's going to a Hufflepuff party tonight, so we've got my dorm to ourselves.”

You kissed him again, smiling. “Sounds perfect.”

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Brooms whizzed over your house’s section, whipping your scarf around your head.

“Go George!” You cheered, when he drifted nearby, twirling the bat in his gloved hand.

He flashed you a wink before banking left, whacking the snot out of bludger that was hurdling straight for Ron. It rocketed across the pitch and directly into the other houses Seeker, giving Harry the advantage.

“Woohoo!” You cheered with the rest of the student body. “Weasley! Weasley! Weasley!”

“Good game, aye?” A guy sidled up next you, leaning against the railing. You sort of recognized him from your Potions class, but couldn't be sure.

“Great game,” you replied, turning your attention back to the match and your boyfriend.

“Are you fan? Of Quidditch, I mean?”

“Mhmm—go Ron!” You cheered, tuning him out.

“I'm Gus, by the way. We're in the same Potions class?”

“Hi, Gus.” You give him a tight smile, hoping he takes the hint.

“Y’know, maybe we could study together sometime. Merlin knows Potions isn't my strong suit, but you seem pretty smart—”

“Get after it, Harry!” You roared as the Seeker flew overhead, the snitch just a few feet out in front of him.

“What do you think, y/n?” Gus prodded.

Irritation prickled up your neck. “I'm not sure I have time to tutor someone.”

Gus’ smile faltered. “Well, what about the next match, then? Maybe we could sit together.” He scooted closer you, infringing on your already limited space.

You squirmed closer to your friend on the other side of you, who was too wrapped up in the match to notice your discomfort. “No thanks, Gus.”

“Oh, c’mon. I promise I'm a nice guy.” He dropped his hand on your knees, and you wrenched yourself away.

“Don't fucking touch me—”

A deafening crack sounded from across the pitch and you both startled, turning back towards the match. A bludger was barreling straight towards your section. You screamed as it slammed into the post less than half a meter from Gus' head, ripping through the wood with a resounding boom and scattering splinters across the section.

You jumped back, falling into your friends laps, and Gus shrieked like a banshee, his face blanching white at how close it had come to taking his head clean off his shoulders.

An ear-splitting whistle interrupted the resulting chaos.

“Weasley, out!” Madame Hootch hollered.

You straightened in alarm, finding George hovering at the center of the pitch, his bat gripped tightly in his hand. His eyes were locked on Gus, dark and smug, a smirk tugging at the edges of his mouth.

“George, land!” Wood bellowed, and George finally floated back to earth. You could hear Oliver shouting, but couldn't see George from your seat.

You fought your way out of the stands, trying to push your way towards the locker room.

Gryffindor was booing the call, chanting “Weasley!” at the top of their lungs. Without George, unless Harry caught the snitch, the match was basically forfeit.

Your mind raced from the adrenaline. Did George do it on purpose? And if he did, why would he jeopardize the match like that?

You found him in the locker room, undoing the ties on his robe. He was still in his uniform, sweaty and smeared with dirt, his hair flat from the helmet.

“George,” you said, and he looked up.

“Love, what are you doing down here?” He frowned, reaching for you, but you held your ground, crossing your arms over your chest. His frown deepened.

“Did you do that on purpose?” You demanded.

“Of course I did,” he responded, not a trace of hesitation in his voice.

“Why? They won't win without you!”

“I don't care about the bloody match, y/n.”

You blinked at him. “What?”

George walked over to you, cradling your face in his gloved hands. “That guy was bothering you, yeah?”

You almost denied it, but found yourself nodding, unable to lie to him.

“And you thought I was going to sit back and let someone make you uncomfortable? My girl? Fuck no.”

You giggled, his protectiveness spurring a wave of affection and dissolving your anger. “I think nearly killing him was a bit much,” you snickered.

“Are you questioning my aim?”

“Just your sanity.”

He pinched your cheeks together in his still gloved hand, shaking you slightly. “I'll always protect you, brat. And if that makes me a madman, so be it.”

You swatted his hands away before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him down for kiss. He tasted of salt and peppermints, his skin smelling of turf and fresh air, with a hint of that masculine musk that made your head go a little fuzzy.

He kissed you back, catching your lower lip between his teeth and sucking gently. You moaned against him, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth and taste you.

“I'm done hiding,” he murmured when you both came up for air. “And Wood can bugger off.”

The mixing shouting of the crowd filled the quiet air around you. “Ravenclaw scores another twenty points!” Lee declared, his voice notably unenthused.

George shook his head with a smug chuckle, leaning his forehead against yours. “See? They need me.”

“Weasley!” Oliver shouted, startling you both. George looked up, tightening his grip around you. Oliver didn't even bother to act surprised. “You're back in,” he sighed.

A grin split George's handsome face, making your heart flutter.

“Good man,” he replied, dropping a peck onto your lips before doing his helmet and running back out onto the pitch to the roar of the crowd.

“Weasley! Weasley! Weasley!”

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Thank you so much for reading!

If you enjoyed, you can check out my published work here.

Much love,

Allie