#harry potter drabbles

[artytaeh]

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

THEODORE NOTT— a popular slytherin, an introvert at heart, despite his reputation as a womanizer. theodore nott, who has a big, terrible communication problem.

with the pure terror of displaying his vulnerable emotions, theodore smokes cigarettes to force his emotions to disappear with the wind; bites his inner lip and cheek until his mouth bleeds, so no tears threaten to make way to his eyes.

when theodore nott cries, he stares blankly into the wall. he doesn't sob— sobbing would make him even weaker, more vulnerable, less capable and definitely useless, in his father's eyes.

silent tears are the epitome of theodore's sadness, because other than that, his sadness, stress and troubled thoughts are never known. hidden by a mask of stoic expressions.

theodore nott is 'stupid' smart. if he wasn't a slytherin at heart and soul, then he'd be a ravenclaw, or at least that's what the professors comment amongst them. theo enjoys reading, and would easily spend his afternoon on a silent, vacant corner of the castle, devouring a book in few hours.

he lies, saying that it's simply because knowledge is a good weapon. he'd be saying the truth, if theodore confesses that he reads this much, because whether be it fiction or not, he can escape his thoughts to fully concentrate on the book's contents.

theodore nott is knowledgeable, theodore nott is a good, straight-A's student. theodore nott is quick-witted; you wouldn't want to banter with him, because usually, he gets the last word with a victorious, cheeky smile— an insufferable cocky grin.

and yet, shamefully, theodore nott has no idea how to verbalize his feelings.

every good liar is like this, he'd argue. in exchange of spilling the most atrocious lies with a straight face and nonchalant tone, theodore finds it awfully hard to tell the truth.

ask him what's wrong— you can do that, sure. now, if theodore will answer you, that's another story. and to give you a genuine answer, if he doesn't snap? then an angel must have fallen down its altar.

then, if he can't verbalize or trust anyone, not even mattheo riddle or lorenzo berkshire on a good day— what does theodore nott do, to deal with his full mind and empty heart?

theodore nott destroys.

he destroys other living beings,

being the first one to join mattheo riddle, with a smile on his face, when his best friend snaps at the smallest hint of disrespect. throwing a (not really) deserved punch at a guy that honestly, if you ask him afterwards, theodore has no idea what he done wrong.

when lorenzo scolds mattheo for starting a fight and reprimands theodore for indulging it, the slytherin simply shrugs. he's "looking out for his bro", he says. that's only partially true, as much as he deeply cares for mattheo.

everytime that he starts fights, like a rabid dog. theodore doesn't really know when he stopped being il dolce ragazzo of his madre. when he became a dog that bites without thinking about barking first. "so much for claiming to be the logical one," — lorenzo muses.

... he destroys himself.

which would explain the concerning amount of muggle, wizarding, flavored, all shaped packs of cigarettes he owns. there isn't a brand that he didn't try, at least once— the more harmful, the better.

smoking until his lungs become as black as his heart, as his dark thoughts. smoking, until he drops dead with his worries. smoking, until theodore nott becomes a better man (something that he doubts he could do, for he was born a broken man— born from a couple that should have never crossed paths with each other).

consequently, damaging his hands. skin that becomes calloused and slightly scarred from the cigarettes. knuckles constantly bruised from throwing punches at gryffindors or smartass ravenclaws.

so, theodore nott starts believing that he's unlovable. that loving him— oh, that would be torture. pure masochism, that he wouldn't wish to anyone, not even the witch he dislikes or rolls his eyes at the most.

and that becomes a creeping fear of his. oh, theodore is terrified, when the thought of becoming like his father plagues his mind.

to think that he'd become such a disgusting man, the man who brought so much pain to his mother, that killed the only person who truly loved him.

what would his mother say, if she saw him like this?

would she be disappointed, would she be ashamed to even spare a look at him? would her beautiful porcelain face become a frown, would she walk away, disgusted?

theodore consumes three more cigarettes on that thought alone.

... or would she give him a sympathetic look, gazing at her dolce, bravo ragazzo with those tender eyes of hers? a shade of blue, that theodore was fortunate to inherit.

a sad smile makes its way to his lips. because now, even for a brief moment, theo is himself again. he's not a casanova slytherin, he's not the heir of the nott family. theodore nott is simply his mother's little boy, her teddy.

in honor of such bittersweet memories, theo drops his cigarette and doesn't smoke for at least 24 hours.

theo doesn't know how to deal with comfort. genuinely tender touches, fingertips grazing his skin so lightly—

of desperately needy, lustful touches, he knows. he knows them very well, from all those times he slept with a woman, ruined her for the next guy. from the times a slytherin girl gripped and pushed his hair, needing, begging more of his mouth on her; or when a gryffindor got so lost in pleasure that she left the mark of her nails on his back; when a hufflepuff senior clenched her fingers on his torso, hips and shoulders, screaming for more, deeper, faster; that time when he found a way to shut up a particularly insufferable ravenclaw know-it-all by fucking her mouth, and when he felt the back of her throat on him, the stubborn ravenclaw gripped, scratched, protested on his thighs.

of harsh, violent, cruel, merciless touches, everytime mr. nott decided that a disgusted, disappointed gaze wasn't enough to educate his son. when those knuckles adorned with rings curled into a fist, and theodore was beaten into discipline. all those times he started fights and consequently got hit by a punch or two, even though theodore is a good fighter, and makes sure that even if he does get hurt, the receiving end is in worse state, in need of more than one night in the infirmary wing.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

... but comforting, meant to soothe, gentle touches? oh, theo is terrified of them. rather than flinching away from a fist coming his way, theo looks like a scaredy cat when fingers come to brush his hair away from his face, with all the love and care of the world.

theo doesn't know those touches. to be fair, yes, he was acquainted with them once— but that was long, long ago, when his mother was still alive. a life ago, really, because sometimes theodore wonders if he's the same teddy he once was, under the protective but loving arms of his mother.

so at first, theo panics when you hug him, when you physically bring comfort to his broken, damaged heart.

but then?

then, after he gets a taste of how heavenly it feels to be held by someone he loves? then, theo embraces the fact that he is indeed a touch starved man. then, theo completely and shamelessly melts under your touch, relaxing in your embrace, wishing to never leave this safe haven.

( or maybe he does. a little voice on the back of his mind, menacingly suggesting that this safe haven, this loving harbor — you — might disappear into thin air by the cruel hands of his father, the same he did with his mother. )

but before his truly prodigious brain dares to overthink once again— your hands comb through his hair, brushing it back along with his worries, massaging the scalp and melting the troubled thoughts away. that's when theo closes his eyes. that's when he, finally, is in peace with himself.

and if you'd ask him; this is when and where theodore nott is the happiest. this is when theodore nott is teddy again.

౨ৎ these voices in my head screaming ♡ ͡

run now. i'm praying that they're human . . .

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— my motivation? it's a silly little drabble, about my favorite slytherin. theodore nott deserves love, seriously.

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

[elliemarchetti]

Lost See Lost

A Dramione drabble for @liquidluckdrabblechallenge's prompt #60

Plot: Hermione breaks up with Ron after yet another accident caused by his career as an Auror and shares a cigarette with an old acquaintance.

Words: 435

Hermione knew what the look in his eyes meant. He was begging her to contradict him, to run into his arms and kiss him as she had done when they realized they had survived the war. But Hermione couldn’t, because she wasn’t the same person anymore. Years had passed, she had a career, and so did he, careers that hardly hallowed them to see each other and drained their time and patience.

Ron too must’ve seen in her eyes what was going through her head. He must’ve understood that in front of him there was no longer the reckless little girl who had abandoned everything to be by his and Harry’s side, but a woman who in the rough, fast and unfair days at the Ministry had no one else to rely on but herself. He must’ve known they were held together by a paper clasp, drenched in moments from a past that wasn’t going to come back.

 “When I’m not around, do you even miss me?” he asked, but he already knew the answer, and wasn’t surprised when she left the keys to his Diagon Alley’s apartment on the plastic table and mouthed him a soundless goodbye.

She walked through the white corridors quickly, allowing herself to really breathe only when she came out at the back, into a dirty side road that reminded her much more of Muggle London than the magical one. From the right pocket of her large coat she took out a pack of cigarettes and once she had lit one, she leaned with her back against the hospital wall as if seeking for support.

“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you it’s bad for your health,” said a voice she hadn’t heard in years, the tone different but the timbre still the same. Draco Malfoy hadn’t changed much: same pointy features, same eyes too light to not tighten her stomach when he looked at her with the same intensity with which he was doing it now, and same porcelain skin; the ghost of dark circles made him seem older, and perhaps his cheeks were a bit hollower than before, but he still wore his platinum blonde hair slicked back, and his tapered hands still gripped his wand in the same way.

He lit a cigarette too.

“What a Muggle vice,” she commented, returning her attention to the bricks of the opposite building.

“One day we’ll regret it, but for now we do what we can,” he replied, and Hermione wondered if he was still referring to smoking and she had just imagined the implications hanging in the air.

[marauderswriting]

Do people still read fanfictions ?

[way-too-addicted-to-fandoms]

Author is a sucker for validation and I am a sucker for good banter. I am a button pusher by nature (once I get comfortable) so this is so relatable to me, not to mention hilarious to read. Thank you for sharing this with us!

the one where getting under the skin of the gryffindor quidditch captain, oliver wood, is your favorite hobby.

pairing: oliver wood x fem!reader

word count: 0.7k words

rating: PG-15

content: fluff, established relationship au; ft. ravenclaw!reader, quidditch captain!reader

warning/s: none

“Unbelievable,” Oliver Wood mutters as he spots you and the whole Ravenclaw Quidditch team already flying around the pitch. The sun is only about to rise, the fog surrounding the place just starting to clear, and he’s becoming more annoyed at the fact that not only are your team stealing their time, but even managed to be here earlier than they are.

What makes it worse is that he knows that he’s the first one who reserved it for training since the match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw is fast approaching. And to further add to that, he particularly remembers reminding you that you better not take over any of the days he intends to let his team practice when he (stupidly) showed you his timetable for classes and Quidditch sessions.

“____!” He shouts your name, and upon hearing it from below, you look at him, a smirk automatically making its way on your lips.

“Let’s take a short break, everyone!” you instruct your team, flying down then and dropping down right in front of Oliver. “Good morning, Captain Wood. Fancy seeing you here.”

The formality triggers Oliver’s annoyance even more, but for the rest of the Gryffindor team who remain standing behind him, it brings them to hide their snickers and amused expressions.

After all, they—and pretty much the whole student body—are quite aware that you and Oliver have been dating for almost two years now, and this thing happening right here is just one of your schemes to playfully get on your competitive boyfriend’s nerves.

“____,” Oliver says your name again with a sigh this time, voice not daring to go a volume higher now that you’re near despite the situation, “please tell me why the bloody hell are you and your team on this pitch this morning?”

You put on your best innocent expression. “Well, we’re training, of course.”

“Yes, but I can specifically recall that I booked this pitch for the whole day. So, it’s a great wonder to me why I’m seeing you Ravenclaws here.”

“Hm, are you sure you booked it the whole day though? From the schedule that you showed me, it says there that it starts at 9AM, which is…” you glance at your wristwatch, “two hours from now. Meaning until then—”

“You have the freedom to use the pitch,” Oliver deadpans.

You grin. “Exactly, my love. You and your team can certainly wait, right? Though I’d appreciate it if you don’t hang around here while we’re playing. I might accuse you of stealing our strategy.”

“Strategy? Didn’t know you had one when we take into account the way you play.”

“Well, considering I’ve already won two games against you, maybe apparently not having a strategy might work on Gryffindor too.”

“One game was won by default.”

“And the other one?”

“Pure luck, of course.”

You laugh, and Oliver’s lips twitch, like he’s suppressing to do the same just to commit to the act he’s doing.

“Can we head to the Great Hall first for breakfast, Wood?” A Weasley twin pipes in amidst your impromptu staring contest with your boyfriend, causing Oliver to glance behind him and nod reluctantly.

“Fine. The rest of you can go get breakfast. But we meet here at exactly 9AM. Got it?”

The team says a chorus of yes and proceeds on walking back to the direction of the castle. Oliver, however, stays in his spot and raises his eyebrows at you, the mask of annoyance seen on his face a while ago seemingly gone now.

“What?” you ask, still with that teasing grin of yours.

“You promised.”

“I didn’t promise anything.”

“You told me you weren’t going to steal any of my days for Quidditch practices.”

“Technically, I’m not stealing as it is not your time yet.”

“Always such a smartass.”

“That’s what you get for dating a Ravenclaw,” you say, mounting your broom before giving him a quick kiss on the mouth and dashing back upwards where your other members are already zooming around.

Oliver shakes his head in disbelief; it’s unfair how you can get away with shenanigans that he typically would curse another team for. “I expect the pitch to be empty by 8:55, alright?” he bellows, just so you can hear him from where you’re situated.

“Aye, aye, Captain!”

gentle reminder: this author is a sucker for validation so please don’t hesitate to share your thoughts about this! ♡

[peachigummi]

is that right? ☏ mattheo riddle.

summary: both your parents had set up an arranged marriage. you both simply tolerated it for the most part, as it really was in the best interest for your respective families. over the year, you started to really develop feelings for each other - especially in wanting to expand the family name.

pairing: mattheo x fem! reader

warnings: jealousy, smut like literal major baby making so there is unprotected p in v and creampie, so breeding!kink, oral sex (giving and receiving), fingering, choking, gagging, slight bondage, almost public but not really?, cock warming... maybe slight daddy/mommy stuff naturally?. i think that's pretty much it fluff at the end. he is rough but talks you through it, praise!kink.

note: this is my first time ever writing smut...omg i almost didnt finish writing this LOL i had to stop midway then I had the post clarity and that shameful feeling HAHAHAH

word count: 7.5k

(slightly not really proofread...again)

reblogs & comments are appreciated! i hope you have fun!! tell me what you think!

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Both your parents had set up an arranged marriage for after you and Mattheo graduated from Hogwarts. You've been married for over a year now, living in a manor that housed both families. There was definitely some tension occurring, recently you’ve both started to further develop feelings. At first you tolerated your union as his family wanted to continue with a strong and pure bloodline, and your family simply wanted protection. 

You were sitting at your vanity, brushing your hair when Mattheo walked out of the bathroom with wet hair and a towel around his waist. He gave you a smug look, heading to the walk-in closet, dropping the towel and slipping on his underwear, his back turned to you. You wouldn’t help but press your thighs together at the sight of him, you quickly return to brush the knots from your hair. 

From the vanity mirror you look at his chiseled back muscles. He still looks as good as the first day you met him. You had the luck on your side for that, at least the partner in your arranged marriage was good looking…yet you craved having a chance to fall in love organically. You could count on a single hand how many times you and Mattheo had been physically intimate. 

Mattheo put on a shirt and grey sweats, shit, before walking out of the closet to approach you. “I’ve heard from your parents that you’ve been talking to another guy at work?” he says calmly but firmly.

You thought about it for a second, “Charlie? Yeah, he’s in training.” After graduating Hogwarts you were able to quickly land a job with the M.O.M. while mattheo stuck with DAD…aka the family…business. I moved on to rub body oil on my legs and arms, not looking at him.

He tried to not pay any attention to you as you moved your hands in tight little circles. Mattheo would love a good massage right about now too, he took a step back and sat on his side of the massive bed, “and what do you talk to him about?”

“I mean,” you scoff at him, “Mattheo, it’s just training protocols. Showing him around the work area, how to do things, where things are at. Not much else to it than that.”

He clenched his jaw, he couldn’t deny that he had an attraction to you, but he always told himself to ignore it, “that’s it?”

“Yes, that’s it.” You stood up from the vanity, clicking closed the boy oil. Setting it down where it belonged, you enjoyed having a tidy space. You sat on your side of the bed.

He looked at the way your hips swayed in your night dress as you walked to your side. You turned your head to look back at him. He looked so tense, “I hope you’re not lying.”

You stayed quiet, of course he wouldn’t trust me. You had never given him a reason not to even before the start of this arrangement, so it annoyed you when he doubted you. That might just be his nature though. You slid into the satin bed sheets, they were nice and cool to the touch, much needed after a long day at work. You turned your bedside lamp off, encasing your both in darkness. Mattheo laid beside you, he usually took to his side, but tonight he was feeling a bit off so he wanted to be close to you. Not making physical contact but enough to where you notice his warm body. 

You kept your eyes open, your back turned away from him, what was he doing? He never slept so close to you. After a long period of silence you spoke up, feeling brave because it was dark. You wouldn’t see his expression and he wouldn’t see yours, “are you jealous, Mattheo?”

He sneered at the question, as if the idea of him being jealous was a crime, “of course not. I’m just concerned that you’re doing something you shouldn’t be.” There was a small hint of jealousy in his voice, he hated to admit it but he didn’t like the idea of you with another man.

“I might have not had a choice, but I don’t plan to step out of this marriage. You have nothing to worry about.” You tried to scoot closer to the edge of the bed, trying to build distance from him, “I wish I could say the same with you…and your assistant.”

His face looked offended, but you couldn't see it, you could hear it in his voice, trying to keep it cool. “My assistant? You’re the only one that is allowed in my office.”

“That’s not what Draco told me.” Mattheo was able to recruit Draco back into the business. Draco was nice to you, he was like a brother figure. Your families were close. They would have arranged a marriage with him instead, but his mother decided against it. She believed in falling in love, and making the choice Draco’s. “He warned me to never let you go on any work trips or work late over time. He doesn’t trust your assistant. Draco told me she wants to take any opportunity to have you alone, where no one can see you two.”

Mattheo gritted his teeth as he listened to you. He didn’t appreciate that Draco was telling you things about him, in fact was pissed. He sat up in bed, turning on his bedside lamp. He looked at you with furious eyes, “Draco has no idea what he’s talking about. My work assistant wouldn’t do such things!” That was a lie and he knew it.

“I trust Draco. Don’t you speak ill of him. Why are you defending her?! YOU’RE the one who should be telling me that you wouldn’t do such things with her!” You couldn’t help your own jealousy come forth, you nearly fell off the bed.

He grabbed your arm to pull you back on the bed. Mattheo spoke with a calm and firm voice, “you have my word that I have never, nor will i ever, do such things with my assistant. No other woman can have me the way you do.” He admitted with a smirk, grabbing your chin and lifting it up so your gaze would be on him only.

You didn’t thank him for catching you, but you were glad he did. You lost your concentration for a split second at his admission. You regained yourself, “fire her then.”

He laughed at your demand, “fire my assistant?” A wicked thought passed through it. He could use this to his advantage to make you feel jealous, test the water on how you felt about him, “Why would I do that? She helps me.”

You crossed your arms, “you have three choices.” You count up with your fingers, “You either fire her. Let me choose an assistant for yourself. Or you hire me to be your new assistant.”

He raised his eyebrow at your offers, but still kept his cool, He didn’t want to show how turned on he was by how demanding you were being at the moment, “you’re giving me an ultimatum…” he smirked slightly, “and you think I’ll just do as you demand?”

“You better mattheo. If you don’t want to take it for purely my sake, do it for your bloodline.” I rolled my eyes. Fighting back the blush, thinking one day I will carry his child. 

He groaned at the mention of the family purity, “is that right?” he said in a frustrated tone, “you know as well as I do that this marriage is a duty to our families.” He sighed. “Very well, i’ll take you up on your offer, be my new assistant.”

Your eyes grew wide. You didn’t actually expect him to take that choice, far as you could tell he enjoyed being away from you even if it was at work. “I’ll call my work in the morning. See? Not so bad that I was training Charlie, he can take my place.” You tried to read his face before laying back down, this time closer to the center of the bed.

He turned off his lamp again, “let it be done. But remember, as my new assistant, I won't go easy on you.” He teased, there was a small smile on his face he couldn’t straighten out.

You reached out to pinch his ear, “don’t let it get to your head. I’m still your equal as your wife. Don’t forget about that.” You turned your back to him once again, closing your eyes.

His smile only got bigger at how fierce you were being, he must have struck a chord. He has never seen you so jealous. “Yes, yes… of course my love.” he mocked in a quiet voice as he inched closer to you, laying by your side. Not making much contact, but enough to tease you. You rolled your eyes, he only ever used pet names to tease you. You wanted them to mean something. You remembered the way he came out of the shower, you thought about his wide shoulders, his collar bones.. You scoot your ass closer to his hips. Two can play at that game.

Mattheo’s breath hitched, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m trying to sleep. Goodnight.”

He was so close to snapping at you, but he didn’t want to take the bait, “night.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The next morning you woke up early to call and explain why you were leaving the ministry. You had to come up with a solid unsuspecting excuse. Mattheo’s family would not be too happy with it, being their spy and all, but if it meant my marriage could be successful, so be it. 

You were at the dining room table, it was empty. Everyone in the manor wouldn’t wake up for another half hour or so. Yet there was Mattheo in his black suit, “morning.” He found it amusing you were already ready for the day. He looked you up and down, a wave of lust surged through him. He thought you looked quite lovely, he almost said it outloud but resisted the urge.

“Good morning Mr. Riddle, sir.” You stood up, pulling his seat out. You rolled my eyes, but smiled sweetly at him, “I’m ready for my first day.”

He chuckled softly at how polite you were being, “are you now? And what are you looking forward to most today?”

One of the maids came by to set mattheo’s breakfast down. I smiled at her and waited until she left before continuing, “Sir, I'm looking forward to you firing your current assistant… in front of me.” You batted your lashes at him. Knowing you were going to meet her for the first and last time, you took extra care in how you looked.

“You really want to witness her losing her job, don't you?” He bit the corner of his mouth. 

“She should have watched the way she was acting with you, if she really cared about her job security.” Our blended family began to slowly trickle into the dining room, you laid a hand on Mattheo’s shoulder. you kissed his head. We made the appearance of a blissful marriage around them, not wanting a rift to occur between the families, “I'll meet you at the car in 15, darling.”

He tried his hardest to maintain his facade as you kissed him and left. He again watched you walk away, your perfect figure made his body tingle with desire once more. He excused himself from the table.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Mattheo turned the car off and unbuckled his seatbelt first to get out so he could open your door, “are you ready, my dear?” he questioned though he knew the answer. He didn’t think there would be any hesitation from you in regards to what was about to happen.

You nodded, straightening out your skirt. You followed him into the building. You felt uneasy to be around so many people who have caused harm and were plotting to do more. At least your family was safe, as long as you were with the Riddles.

Mattheo noticed and held your hand as he led you to his office, “Nothing is going to happen to you.” He offered you a chair in front of his desk before going around to sit at the main chair.

You couldn’t help but smile, you let it drop just as quick too. It’s all just part of the agreement. If something were to happen to you, poof~ there goes the bloodline. 

“Good morning, Mattheo.” A woman with a sickly sweet, sickly high pitched voice said with the entry.

He gave her a brief glimpse, he could already tell he would get a headache. His assistant was wearing a tight fitting top with a ridiculously short skirt, she was pouring him a cup of coffee.

You watched as his eyes followed her, gripping tightly at the chair’s arm. Draco was right, no one in their right mind would think of dressing that skimpy for work, if they were truly just there to get shit done. “It’s Mr. Riddle to you.” You said taking your left hand to your chin, making sure your wedding ring was up and front ready to gawk at.

Mattheo looked at you, he loved the way your demeanor was changing. He could see the jealous and possessive energy oozing off of you. He found it quite intriguing, a part of him wanted to test your limits. He reached out to accept the cup of coffee from his assistant, “is it just like how I like it?” “Yes Mr. Riddle. Just how you like it” she said, leaning over to him, finishing the stir. This made her skirt even tighter and her breasts were there to peep into.

You stared at Mattheo hard, expecting him to say something to the woman. He felt you, he had to admit he also was quite displeased at how his assistant behaved around him, but it was all fun and game.

“Now, what do I have scheduled for today?”

Before the woman could answer you interrupted. “I know one thing you have scheduled, Mattheo.” You tapped your foot. You needed her gone. Now. Draco - you’ll have to thank him at the next dinner party. You should have done something sooner. You can’t believe your husband was letting this slut work around him, dictating what he did by the hour.

Mattheo’s eyebrows slightly rose in surprise, he was a bit caught off guard at your interruption. He was so amused by how impatient you had become.

“Well we do have a meeting to go with the Boyles in an hour, can this wait?” His assistant said puffing her chest out to make it appear larger. You hated that she said we instead of you. That bitch. You got up from your seat, going around the desk to stand behind Mattheo. You snaked both arms over his shoulders and down his chest.

He held back a groan as your soft touch distracted his thoughts for a moment. He loved that you were making it clear he was yours. He snapped out of it when he remembered he was still in the presence of his assistant so he looked back at her, all the mock gone from his voice, “i’ll be quick… You’re fired. You're no longer needed here.”

The blood drained out of the woman’s face, her shoulder’s immediately fell. You gave her a fake condolences look.

“W-wuh why? What did I do? Is this because of the office party last week? It won’t happen again, it was wildly inappropriate.” She composed herself, taking a stab at you with the last portion. You brought your hands to Mattheo’s shoulders and squeezed hard slowly, as to not bring attention to the action.

His eyes darkened, “You knew the rules. My father specifically told you when you started not to try anything with me. But even after making it clear, you still chose to try and make a move on me at my own party.” His voice was deep, hiding the amusement that lay underneath.

Even though you hated the confession, you couldn't help but appreciate Mattheo’s honesty. You lessened the grip on his shoulders, rubbing out the part you dug in your nails as a way of saying thank you.

“I was so drunk Mr. Riddle. I’m terribly sorry. I really need this job. I thought you were needing something else…I thought you weren’t getting pleased right. Mattheo, I'm sorry don’t fire me.” You wanted to scream as she pleaded. You can hear the poison off the back of her tongue. Seriously, that Bitch! With that comment you returned to dig your nails into Mattheo.

“My needs are none of your concern.” Mattheo spat at her, but she was right. He has been craving a certain kind of touch for far too long now. He did enjoy a good begging, no matter who it came from, but he wasn’t going to go against his marriage. 

You felt him hold your left hand, flipping it so that both the back of your hands were facing the woman, he was showing your matching rings, “I am perfectly happy in my marriage.” You couldn’t help but wonder if he meant that, or if it was just for show. I was happy too wasn’t I?

The woman looked at your hands that were pressed together, despite her disappointment, she knew there was nothing she could do so she bit her tongue and nodded in response. You watched her every movement, as she collected herself. She still didn’t bother pulling down her skirt or buttoning up her shirt, it was as if she still wanted Mattheo to see what he would have missed out on. To leave this image with him as a parting gift.

He simply stared at the clock, “you have three minutes to collect your things before security arrives to escort you out of the building. Do not leave anything behind because it will be incinerated. My father will deal with your severance…if he gives you anything. Especially after I tell him why I had to fire you.”

She turned to the door, stole a glance back at Mattheo, and left the room. You stayed put behind Mattheo. You didn’t want him to see your face just yet. You needed to cool down. 

He groaned loudly and leaned back into your touch, rubbing a hand over his face, “I don’t even know why I kept her for so long. She wasn’t even that good at her job” he smirked, still wanting to test you.

“Don’t play stupid, I know I won't. Clearly there was something going on!” You scoffed, “to think you were getting so mad at Draco for warning me!”

He took your hand pulling you over to sit on his lap, “there was absolutely nothing going on. I didn’t ask her for anything outside of work related things. I would have never let her touch me, she thought I was unhappy in our marriage.”

“Why would she think you were unhappy hmm? Why was she assuming, let’s be honest, she assumed correctly that you weren’t getting needs met. How were you acting with her, tell me now.” You couldn’t help but feel like a little girl on his lap, a little girl who was throwing a tantrum for not wanting to share a beloved stuffed animal.

He rested his chin on your shoulder as he spoke into your ear, “it was probably because I was often short tempered with her, but I promise it was mostly due to her not doing her job correctly.” His lips brushed against your neck.

Yeah that kind of sounds like Mattheo, he liked things done a certain way, and he didn’t like when it veered off the track. But then again, even in school he was a massive flirt. So how much was the tension between the two due to his short temper and how much was his charm? 

“She’s not worth even a moment of your thought.” He mumbled against your ear, sending a shiver down to your core. He placed a gentle kiss right under your jaw. His hands ran down your thighs, squeezing ever so lightly.

You let out a faint moan, “Mattheo…” You couldn’t remember exactly the last time you were like this, it was very rare. While in school, you remembered how everyone wanted him. He allowed them to play games with him, he loved to toy with them too. But the girls knew, they ultimately knew they had no chance ending up with him. Our arranged marriage wasn’t a secret. 

He continued to press kisses over your neck, occasionally nipping and sucking gently on your skin, enjoying the way your body responded to his touch. He grabbed one leg and forced you to face him, your knees now on either side of his thighs, straddling him. He then wordlessly cast a spell on the door with his wand, so it wouldn’t be opened. He didn’t even look at the door, he didn’t need to carefully aim. You could feel your core getting embarrassingly wet at the simple gesture. “Mattheo, we shouldn’t..” you panted. 

“Maybe you’re right…” He responded, though he didn’t stop his ministrations. He captured your lips with his, kissing you hungrily as he pressed his body against yours. His hands exploring over your body. 

You let your hands go up the back of his neck, tugging at his dark curls. They were so soft and velvety. Fuck. He felt so good, you could feel him press against yourself. You forgot how big he was, you wanted to just dry hump him to feel satisfied with yourself right now. You couldn’t bring yourself to it, you tried to speak between his hasty sloppy kisses, “Matty…you do have a meeting soon.”

He loosened his grip ever so slightly, “then do your job. and cancel. it.” He said through gritted teeth, planting kisses on your collarbone. Without looking he pulled his phone closer to you. He hoped you would make the right choice.

You nodded shifting in his lap, earning a groan. What a start to my new job. “What’s the extension to Boyle’s assistant?” You grabbed the receiver trying to hold it and keep your breath steady. Mattheo whispered it against your ear lobe. You grew impatient once more as you continued to hear it ring on the other end. C’mon answer.

“Hello, how may I direct your call?”

“Hi um” you looked down at Mattheo’s sweet brown eyes that were following you, pleading with yours, you tried to get him to pause with his lip exploration for a second, “I’m Mr. Riddles’ new assistant - we..I..we..sorry he needs to” damn ..girl I NEED TO! Mattheo muffled his own giggle with his hand. Enjoying how you kept messing up, obviously your mind has started to get clouded.

“Y/N/N?” The woman on the other receiver said, your old nickname from school.

“Oh my god, Daphne? Hey! I didn’t recognize your voice…!”

He watched you with slight amusement.

Daphne started to ramble on about how she started at this job, on any other day you would have totally loved to entertain her and catch up. You got along very well, but you cut her off as she explained, “um Daphne, we should go out for some coffee soon, we can talk then. It’s just that Mattheo needs the meeting with the Boyles rescheduled.”

“Oh..okay..is everything alright? It was an important meeting…”

Not as important as this.

“Everything is fine, is there a different time we can meet? Push it back a couple more hours?” You looked over at his schedule that his previous slut of an assistant left. You both ended up agreeing on a later time, you quickly thanked her and said goodbye. You clicked the receiver down, putting the do not disturb on for good measure too. 

“Where were we?” you shyly said, looking at his eyes that were gleaming with desire and excitement.

“I was thinking we could restart from here..” He readjusted you back on his lap, slipping a hand under your skirt skimming along the line of your panty. 

You missed his touch, his hands could sometimes be so cold to the touch that they felt like they left a burning trail. He pulled back slightly, picking you up by your ass to set you down on the edge of his desk. He used his hands to open your legs wider, ever so gently “Is it okay if I touch you right here?” you were already nodding before he finished, “Use your words with me. Do you want me to touch you here?” He padded his thumb against your core, still over your panties. “Yes Mattheo, please please touch me.” 

“That’s my girl.” He smiled proudly, he could already feel the want and need pouring off of you, and it was driving him equally if not more insane. He pushed your skirt up higher, revealing yourself to him. Ran his hands over your hips massaging them as you had done the night before. They felt so soft and squishy. 

You couldn’t help but throw your head back, leaning on your forearms. You moved your head forward to look at him when he retracted his hands. He had sat back down in his chair, admiring how he had you. You felt like you were under a microscope, to be so exposed. You tried pressing your legs back together.

Tsk, tsk, tsk, “don’t hide. Let me see you.” he pushed your knees back apart to regain his view. He pulled your dominant hand forward, he also leaned forward so you could touch the side of his face, “show me how you please yourself.” He watched with a hungry expression, clearly enjoying how you blushed and got flustered. Mattheo gently rubbed his thumb along your burning cheek softly, then traced it against your bottom lip asking for entry, “there’s no need to be shy with me, my love.” His voice was sweet and soft, “I promise I wont judge you, you are my wife after all.”

You let his thumb go into your mouth. You sucked on it, not once breaking eye contact, “shit y/n, that’s my pretty princess.” with his free hand he slid underneath his own pants and readjusted himself into a comfortable position. He took your dominant hand once more, putting it over your core. “Show me.”

You hesitated again to make a move on yourself, Mattheo pulled his thumb out of your mouth so he could wrap his hand around your neck, “don’t make me say it again.”

Oh my shit. “Sorry” you managed to choke out through his alternating grip intensity. You went over your panties to play yourself. You were so wet. Your hand was shaking with nerves as you rubbed over your entrance, letting your slick arousal coat them before moving them between your folds and finally at your clit. Mattheo was looking down at your movements. The hand that wasn’t around your neck, he helped by holding your panties out of the way, “so pretty, you’re glistening.”

“You..you have this effect on me Matty. This is all for you.”

“Good, you’re mine.” He choked you hard then lessened it once more, “and i'm yours.” He kissed you again before watching you play with yourself. You kept rubbing your clit for him. He let go of your neck, you felt your blood rush back to your brain. Mattheo unbuttoned your top, unclasped your bra and started to play with your breasts. Alternating and teasing each nipple. “So perfect.” He grinned against your nipples, biting it and blowing cool air on it. You yelped and he covered your mouth, “shhh.” He unlatched himself from you and sat down. He rubbed himself through his pants before undoing his belt. His eyes never left your wet core, it was purring for him.

He let out a small sign, laughing. You felt insecure for a split second, “what?”

“Nothing..you’re just doing..it wrong”

“Huh?”

“Here let me help you, princess. I’ll show you how I'd do it.” he moved his chair closer, moving your hand away. He just rubbed the middle and ring finger along your heat, it grant him a moan, “y/n, as much as I love hearing you like this. You’ve gotta stay quiet.”

You bit your lip hard, “I’ll try Mattheo but..”

“None of that, you must do as I say.” he gently inserted one finger inside you, curling it up against your wall. You moaned louder. He whipped his single digit out, “you’re so needy, even with a single finger? Sweet Salazar, what am I going to do with you? You’re hopeless.” He let out a haughty laugh.

“Baby..please.” You watched him stand up, taking his belt off the loops of his pants. You thought he was finally doing to give you what you wanted most, but instead he just wrapped it around your head, tightening it around your mouth, closing it.

“I’m really sorry I have to do this baby girl, but you just wont keep your mouth shut.” He wasn’t a bit sorry, you can tell by how he looked down at the sight of you. He was actually quite pleased. He gave you a kiss on the forehead, it was a sharp contrast to the leather belt wrapped around your mouth. Seeing you like this was beyond his wildest dreams, gagged before him. Mattheo sat back down continuing where he left off, but this time he inserted two of his fingers. He didn’t allow you to adjust to them. The belt indeed muted your cry. It hurt, you didn’t dare use two of your own fingers on yourself, and here he was with hands that were twice the size of yours.

“You’re doing so well for me, princess.” He whispered, inserting his fingers all the way and pulling them out the same. You felt a tear running down your cheek. He began to rhythmically curve them when they were inside you. The pain was quickly subdued with pleasure. You laid back on the desk arching yourself so he could go in deeper, “so now you want more huh?”

Still fingering you, he went back to suck on your nipples. He towered over you, you shook your head, “what is it?” He looked at your concern. You looked at his fully clothed body, wrapping your hand around his tie. You were naked, apart from your skirt, but it was so bunched up at your hips it didn’t matter. You couldn’t  be the only one bare right now, you want to see his body, “how are you still bossy with your mouth shut?” He laughed, pushing your hand away, “news flash, I’m your boss now. You don’t tell me what to do.”

Despite his words, he did take off his tie first, wrapping it around your wrists, goddammit, before taking off his suit jacket and unbuttoning his shirt only half way. You could look at his chest that was peaking. You felt yourself drool against the belt.

He sat back down and continued to finger you relentlessly. He pulled out and tasted his fingers, “too bad you’re gagged. I would have liked you to taste yourself. At least I have your cunt to myself.” he welcomed himself into you again. He slowly ran his warm tongue up your slit, stopping at your clit. He did this a couple of times. It was so agonizing. Your eyes were bobbing around unable to stay open. With your hands tied you were still able to hold his head down to stop and focus on your clit.

Mattheo would have swatted your hands away, but he needed your touch as well. He wanted to make you feel amazing, he wanted you to forget your name and only respond to “wife”. But god did he also just want to already bury his cock deep inside you to feel some relief. He needed to be patient.

Your breath began to get shallow and unsteady. He groaned against your clit, your pussy was repeatedly clenching around his fingers, indicating you were close. 

His lips curled devilishly, he was thinking about denying your orgasm. He only wanted you to cum on his cock and nothing else. The only reason why he didn’t is because he loved the taste of you too much to stop, “you can do it, doll. Come for me let me taste it.”

You began to shake and grab a fist full of curls as you came. He gradually slowed down, helping you ride out your orgasm. You felt so relaxed.

He looked so full of himself. He pulled his face away from you, his lips were red and swollen from his own work. Mattheo held up his right hand, the one that was fingering you, you could see the wetness on it. 

With his clean hand he pulled down his pants and underwear in one quick motion. Rubbing his cock with his right hand, letting your cum wet it. He used two fingers to beacon you over, before he realized you couldn’t move.  He left your wrists still tied, and pulled you forward onto your feet. “Look me in the eye, princess. Do you promise to be quiet now?” 

You could only nod. That was enough for him, because he had other plans to occupy your mouth. He removed the belt around your mouth. With your still bonded hands you wiped the spit around your mouth, “God, damn.”

He laughed, “I don't remember being called God before, but you can't continue with its use.” 

Before you could reply with something snarky, he pushed you down onto your knees and had the tip of his cock at your lips, “Sorry, I can’t actually trust you to be quiet, so open wide and take it.”

You obeyed. Though you could only take nearly half of it before it started your gag reflex, “i love that sound baby,” he signed, “is it too big for you?” He didn’t really care for an answer, of course it was. It would have just inflated his ego more. 

“C’mon and let me in more.” slobber just kept going down your chin and onto your breasts. He bucked his hips at the sight, “you’re so fucking pretty.” Mattheo gathered your hair into two bunches, using them as handlebars. He was straight throat fucking you at this point. You began to feel faint, and he saw it too, so he pulled his cock all the way out allowing you to breathe. “You’re doing so good.” He kissed you on the lips, using his shirt to help clean your chin.

You were just about to say thank you when he reinserted his cock into your mouth. You pull your head back and he actually allows you. With your bound hands you stroke the portion of his cock that you couldn’t take in, pumping it. Admiring the veins running down it . You wrap your lips around his lip, swirling your tongue around. His precum was like a classified drug to you, it was so delicious. You kept at your pace wanting more to come out, “you’re obsessed” Mattheo pointed out thrilled.

“Talk to me, love” He touched your ear lobe. 

You spoke to him with his cock still in your mouth, so it slurred your speech, “yob ase s’ gob.” 

He chuckled but groaned with the vibrations your voice made, “what was that?”

You stopped sucking, “you taste so good!” you smile at him. This brought him to his knees, literally he kneeled beside you, he removed the tie around your wrists rubbing them for you. Both your eyes are on the same level now.

“You really are beautiful.” He said causing you to blush. “Don’t turn all shy on me now, princess.” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear in a soft gesture. “We’re far from being shy with each other right now.” Mattheo kissed you.

“I just like hearing you say that, my king.”

With a voice filled with affectionate warmth, “when you call me that it makes me want to keep you by my side forever, my precious princess.” He began to kiss you harder, “I want to keep you forever.” He pushed his soft side out of the way and pushed you onto your knees in front of him You arched your back so your ass was in the air, “this is what you fucking teased me with last night.”

You laughed, “yeah I know.”

“So you wanted this bad huh?”

“Yess Matty I want you.” 

He admired the scene in front of him. He kneaded your ass, biting it and making your cry again. “Don’t make me use the belt again.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll be quiet now.” You cupped your own mouth. You saw his jacket on the floor and took it under your head.

“You’re so obedient, it's very good. How haven’t I bred you sooner? I want you pregnant with the next Riddle heir.” He ran a hand slowly over your back, gently but possessively.

“I have actually been thinking the same thing. My body is ready for your seed, im..im ready for it.”

When you agreed with his wish it only made something in him pop, something shifted in Mattheo’s eyes. The hunger and desire growing. 

He spat out at your spread exposed pussy, as if it wasn’t already sopping wet. He just liked the idea of having his bodily fluids in you. He rubbed his full length on the outside of your slit, teasing you, “you think your tiny pussy can take my cock better than your mouth?”

Shit…actually that was an honest question. The few times you tried already, you were only able to take in 3/4th of his length before tearing and asking him to stop. Plus you both haven’t fucked in a long while, “Matty, I’ll try by best…” you sounded a little uneased. 

He pulls on your arm turning you to look behind at him, “We don't have to rush this. But I promise i’ll make it good for you if you let me. You’re my wife and you will be the mother of my children soon enough.” He let go of you, bending over to kiss your shoulder blades, biting them roughly before going to your ear, “I’ll try to take it slow, but I really need you to take all of me in, darling. I need my seed to make it directly into your womb. I don’t want it to possibly drip out. You can do it.”

You moaned at his words of encouragement, you will try your best. He continued to stroke your hair, “listen to me: you’re my everything. And I won't let you get hurt, okay?” He kissed your temple, “if it is too unbearable, just tell me and I'll stop. Nothing is more important to me than your comfort and trust…but I do want you to give me a baby. A couple of them.” He laughed like his usual self, “so please try hard to take me like a good girl.” 

You pulled at his hair harshly, “just fuck me Riddle.” with that he slapped your ass leaving a red welt in the shape of his hand and squeezing it to lengthen the pain, “atta girl”. He finger fucked you a little bit more before realigning the tip of his dick to your hole. 

You closed your eyes, and he began to press into you. It wasn't so bad, actually it already felt amaz - -- okay nevermind. He felt you squeeze around him, and he stopped to reassess the situation, “please princess, let me in.”

“Matty I don’t…I dont think I can” you gripped onto his jacket for dear life.

“You can and you will.” He reached over to rub your clit, it helped relax you and he kept sinking deeper and deeper in you. You bit the jacket. It was a crazy mix of pain and pleasure.

“There we go.” he was satisfied, he was finally balls deep inside you, “see I knew you could do it.” He stayed still trying to let your pussy try to adjust around him, “you’re so fucking tight. Actually, I was having second thoughts, but here we are.” He said proudly kissing your neck from behind.

“You’re so fucking huge Mattheo, you’re too good to me.” 

“I adore you” he whispered, “there’s no one else like you. You’re…you’re the love of my life. Both our parents saw that before we did. They knew we were meant for each other when they arranged our marriage.” He groaned as you squeezed him purposefully this time.

“I love you Mattheo. I do.” You manage, your words felt true to each other. With a tender grip he starts  to move his hips slowly away from you only to slam back in. Watching your face for any sign you wanted him to stop but all he got was a smile and, “I’ll give you as many children as you want.”

Without proper warning he quickened his pace holding you face down to the floor. You closed your eyes tightly, locking your jaw. You inhaled his smell through his jacket. Pain was being replaced with a pleasurable numbness. Your brain was going utterly stupid, “make me pregnant Mattheo. Let me make you into a proper daddy.” 

He chuckled at that, “fucking take my dick then. I’ll make you the most beautiful mommy there is. You're such a good wife and I know you’ll be the best mother to my children.”

Mattheo pressed his hand just under your belly button, he took one of your hands and pressed it there with you, “can you feel my cock, darling? You can feel it through your tummy.”

“Yes I can. I feel so full.” You moan.

His grunt and thrusts began to get sloppy, his balls slapping against your clit. It made you roll your eyes behind your head, “princess, I think…” 

“Me too, let's cum together. Let's mix ourselves more.” You raised your ass higher, tilting it ignoring the back pain you were getting.

“I’m going to fill you up even more,” he whimpered, his voice faltering as if he was about to cry, “don't let anything drip out. Take it all in okay?” You nodded, holding your head up and twisting it so uncomfortably around to the side so you can watch him release himself into you. What a sight for sore eyes. 

His curls were plastered onto his forehead with sweat, his cheeks were flushed. Mattheo’s eyes looked back at your eyes with a longing you haven't seen before, “I love you Y/N. thank you thank you thank you.” He began to repeat, as he shot a large load into you. He was right, you could feel your tummy grow already. You followed shortly after, squeezing and milking his cock out more.

His breath was coming out in ragged gasps as he came down from his climax. His body was trembling, but he held you tightly. His face buried in the crook of your neck, “that was incredible.” He looked at you with adoration and contentment, “you’ve given me everything i’ve ever wanted. Thank you.”

“Thank you for choosing me after all.”

Mattheo was about to pull out, but you didn’t allow him. You pulled at his shirt, making him spoon you on the floor. You wanted to warm his cock, but also use it to continue plugging in his cum inside of you, to be marinated. You told him this too, and he flushed, “hey you said we wouldn’t be getting shy with each other, it’s too late for that.” He laughed making his dick still twitch inside you, you let out a moan. He grinned mischievously. You gave him an uncertain look.

Mattheo looked at the clock “yeah we should probably just move the meeting to a different day.”

“Do I really have to call it in again?”

“Yes yes you do, you’re my new assistant remember?” 

“Yeah and soon to be the mother of your children too.”

He wrapped his arms around you in a loving embrace. “I promise to take care of you and our little ones,” he said with sincerity, “You’ll be the most beautiful, loving mother, and I'll support you every step of the way.”

He tugged on the phone’s cord, pulling it so that it drops on the floor beside the two of you, “go on call again. Move it for next week.” He starts kissing your jaw again, moving his hips and slithering his hand back to your clit, “I hope you didn’t think we were finished, I think I can give you more of my cum to hold.”

“Mattheo…” 

[ahqkas]

♯ JEALOU$Y ; theodore nott

PAIRING! theodore nott x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! 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 (based off this req.!!)

WARNINGS AND TAGS! fluff, jealous + italian theo, translation of foreign language + lmk !

WORD COUNT! 1.3k

NOTES! he’s so fine when he’s jealous❕

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

THEODORE NOTT WAS FAR FROM HAVING A SHORT TEMPER (UNLIKE HIS BEST FRIEND) BUT THAT DIDN'T MEAN HE WAS NECESSARILY CARELESS. Sometimes, jealousy wrapped around his heart like the snake representing his house, squeezing and picking at the muscle, giving it wounds for blood to shed from.

And every time he tried to push those feelings aside, they came back even stronger than before in a crashing wave full of raw emotion. He felt like a puppet on a string that was pulled tight by the cruel hands of jealousy. His actions were no longer his own.

The summer sun bathed the picturesque streets of Florence in a warm, golden glow, casting a honeyed hue over the ancient city. Cobblestone pathways, worn smooth by centuries of footsteps, stretched along the bustling streets. Each turn revealed a new delight: charming cafés with wrought-iron tables spilling onto the sidewalks, historic landmarks standing as silent reminders of the past, and vibrant marketplaces bursting with life and color. The air was rich with the scent of blooming flowers, mingling with the earthy aroma of aged stone and the tantalizing whiff of fresh espresso. The fragrance was an intoxicating blend, making every breath feel like a taste of paradise. The sounds of Florence added to the sensory feast: the melodic chatter of locals and tourists, the clinking of glasses and cutlery from the outdoor restaurants, and the distant strains of street musicians playing heavenly tunes on their violins and accordions.

Florence, in the embrace of summer, was absolutely beautiful. It was a place where history and romance intertwined, where every corner held a new discovery, and every moment was a celebration of the beauty of life. The city's magic lay not just in its landmarks, but in the way it made you feel — alive, enchanted, and eternally in love with the world around you.

You walked hand in hand with Theodore, your fingers intertwined in one as you explored the enchanting city. This vacation had been his idea, a chance for the two of you to escape the pressures of Hogwarts and immerse yourselves in the beauty and romance of Italy. Theo's Italian heritage made the trip even more special; he was eager to show you the places that held a special place in his heart.

As you wandered through a bustling street, you paused to admire a street artist's breathtaking paintings. The vibrant colors and detailed brushstrokes captured the scenery of Florence in ways that made the city's beauty stand out even more, and you found yourself lost in the artwork. Theo had stepped away momentarily to get you both something to eat from a nearby stand, leaving you alone but content. The hum of the city buzzed around you, voices of people blending with the occasional strum of a guitar.

While you were engrossed in the art, a group of local boys approached, their laughter and chatter filling the air. They were handsome and confident, their flirtatious smiles and easy charm unmistakable. One of them, with dark, curly hair and a mischievous grin, stepped forward, clearly intent on catching your attention. His eyes sparkled with interest as he gestured towards you.

"Sei molto bella." ("You are very beautiful.")

You blinked, a bit taken aback. Although you had picked up a few phrases during your time with Theo, your grasp of the language was far from fluent. You understood enough to know that he was complimenting you, but the exact words of meaning escaped you.

Before you could respond, another boy joined in, his tone equally playful. "Vuoi venire a fare una passeggiata con noi?" ("Do you want to go for a walk with us?")

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, both from the unexpected attention and your inability to respond. Your eyes darted around, hoping to spot your boyfriend. You were feeling increasingly uncomfortable, unsure how to extricate yourself from the situation.

Just as you were about to attempt a polite but awkward decline, you heard Theo's voice, sharp and commanding. "Ehi, lasciatela in pace!" ("Hey, leave her alone!")

The transformation in him was startling. Theo, usually so calm and composed, had a fierce intensity in his eyes. He stepped between you and the group of boys, his posture protective, his expression a stormy mix of anger and determination. The easygoing demeanor he often sported was replaced by a fierce warning.

His broad shoulders squared, blocking the boys' view of you completely, creating a barrier that was both physical and emotional. The bright warmth of the sun seemed to dim in comparison to the fire that burned in Theo's gaze. It was as if a switch had been flipped, transforming him from the gentle, sweet boyfriend you knew into a guardian ready to defend the owner of his heart and soul.

The boys, who had moments ago been brimming with confidence, raised their hands in mock surrender, laughing nervously. "Calmati, amico. Non volevamo causare problemi," one of them said, trying to diffuse the situation. ("Calm down, friend. We didn't want to cause trouble.")

But Theo wasn't having any of it. Each word was a blade of a dagger, cutting through the casual flirtation of the boys, leaving no room for doubt about his intentions. "Non vedete che non è interessata? Andatevene prima che mi arrabbi davvero." ("Can't you see she's not interested? Walk away before I really get angry."). His voice was low and menacing as he continued in rapid Italian, his words too fast for you to catch but clearly effective in making the boys rethink their approach. They muttered a few apologies before scurrying away, casting wary glances over their shoulders.

Theo turned to you, his eyes softening instantly as he took in your bewildered expression. The fierce protector you had just witnessed melted away, replaced by your sweet boy you knew so well. "Are you okay?" His hand found yours, fingers intertwining in a comforting touch.

You nodded, still a bit shaken. "I'm fine. They were just . . . I didn't understand what they were saying," you admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Theo's lips curved into a reassuring smile. "They were trying to flirt with you," he explained. "But don't worry, they're gone now."

You managed a small laugh, the tension easing out of your body. "I figured that much," you said, your voice lightening. "Thank you, Theo."

He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. The warmth of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart were instantly calming. "I'm sorry if I scared you," he murmured, his breath brushing against your hair. "I just couldn't stand the thought of them bothering you."

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. The fierce protectiveness in his gaze had melted into something softer, more tender. "You were amazing," you said honestly. "I've never seen you like that before."

Theo's smile widened, a hint of pride in his expression. "Well, I can't help it," he said, his tone teasing but sincere. "You bring out the best in me."

As you continued your walk through the beautiful streets of Florence, Theo kept you close, his arm securely around you. The incident with the local boys faded into the background, replaced by the joy of being together in such a magical place. The city's charm and Theo's unwavering affection made you feel like you were living in a dream.

Later that evening, as you sat together at a cozy café, sipping on rich Italian espresso, you couldn't help but feel grateful for Theo. His protective nature, his deep love for you, and his ability to make you feel safe and cherished were all things you treasured deeply. As the sun set over the Florence skyline, painting the sky in brilliant hues of pink and orange, you leaned into Theo, feeling utterly content.

In that moment, with the world bathed in the soft glow of twilight, you knew that no matter where you were, as long as you were with Theo, you were home.

[theosbaby]

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ casually thinking about...

stepbro!draco fucking you with your parents in the next room

NSFW content ahead, +18

the filthy sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the bathroom as draco pounds your tight little hole from behind, his tall frame pinning you against the sink while he watches you intently through the mirror, your pretty bambi eyes looking right back at him.

"shh, love," he coos, fingers gripping your hair tighter as he yanks your head back, lips pressing against your pulse point. "you gotta be quiet f'me, yeah?"

your parents are home at this moment, sitting in the living room within a few feet, so the chances of getting caught are high, and draco can't risk it. if his father finds him fucking you —his wife's innocent and polite daughter, he'll definitely kill him. that fact hasn't stopped either of you though, the thrill of getting caught just making the two of you hornier, his cock throbbing inside your warm cunt as you coat him in your arousal.

you can barely hold back your pretty moans as you feel the delicious drag of his fat cockhead across your inner walls, his dick hitting all the right spots inside you so easily.

"i— i can't..." you stutter between little whimpers, cheeks flushed while you arch your back, hips moving backwards to meet his thrusts.

a slow smirk spreads across draco's face at your response, fingers trailing from your hair down to your neck, roughly pressing his palm against the front of your throat as he slams forcefully against you.

"you can't, huh?" he'd taunt, his other hand gripping your hip to keep you still. "can't stay fucking quiet?"

a loud, strangled moan leaves your throat despite your efforts not to make a sound, your pussy tingling too nicely for you to be able to hold them back. you shake your head in response, lips parting as your gasp for air.

"feels too good," you whimper, eyes rolling back.

your noises would force him to reach out and cover your mouth, his palm muffling every pretty sound you make while he keeps thrusting in and out of your quivering cunt. you can feel yourself clenching tighter around him as you near the edge, the coil in your belly tightening.

"honey, is everything okay?" your mother's voice asks from the other side of the door suddenly, while she knocks softly. you both freeze for a second, but then draco starts pounding into you again. "you've been there for a while."

your brows knit together in a frown, pretty face scrunched in pleasure as you reach up to tug his hand away from your mouth, pulling it downwards to encourage him to rub your little clit. you have to be quick.

"yes, mum, i'll be right out," you answer, and your voice is clearly breathy and agitated.

you pray that your mother doesn't notice.

more.

[winnie1emon]

✧.* now what happens when you find a frustrated theodore nott on the quidditch pitch...?

theodore nott x prefect!lamb!reader (fem pov)

word count: approx. 2.4k

cw: MDNI!!, smut, dom!theo, innocent!reader, sexual language, praise, piv, fingering, unprotected sex, face painting lmao, slight exhibitionism(?)(on the quidditch stands lol)

a/n: first smut fic like ever i fear... don't bully please </3 + been working on this sleep-deprived, lmk about spelling mistakes :(

"Hey- hey!" you said loudly over the raging music, leaning over your friend's shoulder. "I'm gonna go; got prefect duty!"

Your friend, too engrossed in your house's quidditch victory party after they had beaten Slytherin earlier that evening, gave you a mere nod before realizing you actually said something. "Really? There are other prefects out anyways and you never find anyone. Don't be lame, just stay!"

"No, it's fine. I like walking outside anyways, it's fun," you explained, garnering a rather dismissive wave goodbye from your friend.

You trudged down the corridors searching for the way out of the castle. Curfew was approaching and you were given the task of finding a few stragglers outdoors; a task you most appreciated due to the fact you'd never find anybody and you were usually lucky with receiving ample amounts of good weather.

Too comfortable with the usual, you spent most of your patrol time frolicking on the grassy fields and never looked too carefully for any students. You were about to head back inside when you saw the broom shed's door open. Curiously, you peered inside and nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary...

A bit daunted, you closed the door and suddenly saw movement in the corner of your eye. You whipped around quickly, seeing someone flying on the quidditch pitch. You made your way into the pitch, assuming it was some overzealous lowerclassman riding on their broomstick.

As you made your way into the pitch, you realized how large it really was, somewhat awestruck. Hearing a distressed grunt, you turned around and saw the person who was flying, quite a distance away, chuck their broom onto the ground. You hastened over and the image came into view. Their brunette waves became clearer with each step you took and you managed to get their attention.

"H-hey!" You waved. You came to a stop in front of them, slightly huffing as they looked at you acutely. "Theodore, it's curfew in like... oh, two minutes ago."

Theodore raised an eyebrow at your words, seeming as if he had no idea who you were. "What?" he asked you, even though he heard what you said.

"It's past curfew, you can't be here," you said patiently. "What are you even doing here?"

"What's it look like?" he retorted. "Practicing," he added before you could answer his rhetoric question.

"Well... you should practice tomorrow. You already had that game today, you should take a break," you suggested.

He gave you what was probably the most condescending look ever, roaming over your figure. "Yeah, and we lost, princess. Need to practice."

"Don't overwork yourself," you said, your voice tinged with concern. "You were great today, I saw!"

"Mhm, probably cheering on your house, yeah?" he sneered. "Just get lost, I'm not harmin' anyone by practicing, but you're going to tell someone aren't you?" He looked a bit taut and you couldn't help but feel a bit of pity for him. After all, he wasn't the worst player on his team yet he was the only one here practicing, probably losing hairs in the process.

"No, I won't tell anyone," you said quickly. "You look exhausted though. At least sit down." You trailed all the way to one of the tall wooden towers going up to the quidditch spectator stands, feeling the wooden bench poke your thighs. Surprisingly, he sat beside you on your right with a grunt, running his hands through his hair.

Well, now what.

You peered at him in wonderment as his gaze was set straight, admiring his birthmark. Your eyes trailed around the side of his face, looking at his thick, dark brows and then at his slightly unkempt hair. He turned suddenly to face you and you darted your head away, embarrassed. He let out a small scoff, throwing his head down in a smirk.

"So," you started. "You like quidditch?" you asked dumbly. He obviously did... he plays.

"I do," he responded. "When we win."

"You guys almost did," you consoled him, tentatively reaching to rub his shoulder.

Theodore didn't protest, finding the way your palm's touch warmed his shoulder unexpectedly comforting. He looked at your seemingly apologetic face before his eyes wandered down your form, going from your neck and then down to your legs.

"Mm, almost."

Fidgeting with your fingers, you spoke up again. "Yeah, almost! Almost is good!" You reassured him. "Don't beat yourself up-- you're already so stressed." You recalled the instances in class where he'd focus on his work, the times you saw him in the library as you patrolled the halls, and the way he never seemed to hang out with his friends this past week.

"Oh princess," he said, calling you that nickname again, making you turn a light shade of pink. "When has almost winning ever helped anyone? What can I do about the stress? Nothing's going to change if I don't work." He gave a nonchalant shrug, breaking contact with your sorry eyes as he buried his head in his hands.

"Uhm... I mean, do you want help?" You peered at him, wide-eyed and full of pity.

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

And that's how you found yourself sitting on the open quidditch stands, thighs squeezed together with your head downcast as Theodore rubbed lazy circles over your underwear.

"I-I don't really see how this is supposed to help you," you mumbled.

He used his other hand to hold your chin gently, guiding your head to face him. "You think seeing a pretty girl like you lookin' like this doesn't help me?" he simpered. You felt your face heat up from the compliment, shifting your thighs to press against each other some more.

He let go of your chin and you looked down to watch him spread your thighs apart gently. Despite never being his friend, his touch felt familiar, even soothing. In fact, you didn't protest against him, even when you felt him slip your underwear to the side and insert a thick finger into your cunt.

Your mouth agape, you turned to look at him, brows knitting together as he met your gaze with a lascivious smile. You pressed your lips together to try and catch your breath, but it only lasted a few seconds as your lips parted once he entered another digit into you. He moved slowly, not taking his eyes off of yours, drinking in your dazed look.

You felt his pace increase, his fingers going in and out of your now glossy cunt rapidly, and let out a shaky moan which made Theodore's mouth contort in a wicked smile. You threw your head back, looking up at the greying sky. He leaned closer to you, his warm breath hitting your ear as he whispered.

"Feels good, yeah? Feels good to help me decompress hm?" He asked you quietly, having you squirm from his touch. You nodded meekly and let out a small yeah in response.

You had never experienced anything like this before. You were sort of scared, but also excited... maybe a bit confused? ...happy to help?

His touch eventually slowed, his two now-soaked fingers leaving your cunt as he held them up in front of you. Your eyes followed his fingers, your face turning into that of surprise as he brought his fingers into his mouth momentarily.

"So sweet..." he breathed out. "Come on, open up," he slapped your cheek lightly with his clean hand.

You opened your mouth slightly, your eyes looking reluctant.

"Come on, don't be scared," he cooed. You opened a little wider and he gently placed the two fingers on your tongue. You swirled your tongue around slowly, tasting sweet, kind of salty as well, but you weren't sure if that was you or his fingers. Taking in your appearance with his fingers in your mouth, he gave a breathy chuckle. "Cute."

He stood up from the bench with a sigh, taking a step in front of you. "Just one more thing, that okay?" he asked, the corners of his mouth curving into a smile.

"Yeah- yeah sure," you agreed. Even though you were unfamiliar with what you guys were doing, you were just glad you could help him out in some way.

"Good girl. --Has anyone told you how sweet you are?" He leaned forward slightly and cupped your cheeks to tilt your head upwards as you stayed seated on the bench.

"Some people, mhm," you nodded.

"Well, they weren't lying." He complimented you casually, making your stomach lurch in an oddly pleasant way. You adverted your gaze so you could soak in his compliment, your head then snapping up at the sound of a zipper. He gave you a wink that you'd be thinking about for the next week and a dazzling smile that you couldn't protest against.

He guided your legs up off the ground so you'd be kneeling on the stands bench and turned you around, having you facing opposite of the center of the quidditch pitch, towards the castle. Your eyes widened from the circumstances, the risk of being so exposed. You heard him shuffle a little behind you, the sound of his pants going down, boxers following.

You felt one of his cold fingers brush against your skin as he pushed your skirt up, making you shudder. He pulled your sodden underwear down and you heard him take a sharp inhale. His fingers ran over your folds, eliciting a groan from him. "You're so wet... n' you've never done this?" he asked you.

You shook your head, making him sigh.

"And you really want to give this to me?"

"Yeah, I do," you muttered quietly. You didn't care that it was Theodore, you just saw him as someone who needed some help and you were going to give it to them... Oh, who were you kidding? Of course you cared that it was Theodore. The Slytherin that you'd always catch yourself ogling at during the quidditch games, the one you'd stare at in potions, the guy you'd hold the door open for before Charms class.

Seeing no reason to delay his pleasure, Theodore positioned himself between your legs, holding your waist from behind as he pushed the tip of his cock into your ready cunt. You couldn't help the large gasp you let out while he stretched you out. You tried to recuperate momentarily, but he continued to enter you slowly, feeling as if there was no end.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he murmured. He slid in and out of you slowly, picking up the pace over time before you started to let out involuntary moans.

"Theo- Theodore," you huffed out, almost whining. "The castle-- someone could see us," you worried.

His pace becoming incontinent, he brushed off your concern with ease. "No one will, okay?"

Even with his reassurance, you couldn't help but feel sheepish, your anxiety spiking as the thrill got to you.

"Oh my g-god," you moaned. Theodore leaned into your back, head resting on the nape of your shoulder. He snaked his arm on your other shoulder, putting you in a headlock. You brought your hands up to hold his arm, your mind going blank as he started up a relentless speed on you and had his other arm travel down to rub on your clit.

"Shh, shh," he whispered. "Now they will see us if you don't quiet down, yeah?" You nodded in agreement, understanding that you mustn't be loud. After a few minutes of biting back your moans as he drilled into you, he positioned you to lie on your back, on one of the benches. You complied and allowed him to reposition himself into you.

"F-fuck!" You mewled, unable to contain yourself in the new position.

"Shh, shh, shhh..." he shushed you once again, covering your mouth with a large hand as the other held both of your legs against his chest. "Be quiet for me, okay? You can do it," he murmured into your ear, leaning forward to kiss your cheek.

You nodded slowly as you looked up at him when he pulled his head away from you. "Good... so good."

So entranced by his eye contact, your brain drowned out the sounds of his cock going in and out of your sopping cunt, forgetting all about your precarious surroundings.

You felt the knot in your stomach begin to unravel and you knew that your orgasm was nearing. You clawed at Theodore's hand that was on your mouth and he let go, allowing your ragged gasps to float out into the air.

"You okay?" he asked you. "You close?" He couldn't help but smile endearingly at your state, horribly disheveled, biting your own lip to keep yourself from attracting attention.

"Mm," you nodded weakly, feeling your legs begin to shake. As you came undone, you felt him slow down, letting out groans of his own. You bit down on your lips harder and you could feel tears creeping into your eyes as you felt overloaded with sensations. He pulled out of you with a light pop and stepped towards your head.

He had his cock a few inches above your face and looked hesitant before asking, "May I?"

You honestly weren't very sure of what he was requesting, but you let out a soft yeah, being surprised once he spilled onto your face.

Your lips parted into an o-shape as you squinted slightly. After one last drop, you ran a finger on your cheek, observing the mark he left on you trailing down your finger. He dropped his hands to his side and crouched down to be face level with you. He cupped your face with his hands as he ushered you to sit up.

"You're a sweetheart, so nice of you to help," he praised. Even though he had just done things to you that you'd never even been brave enough to imagine an hour prior, you couldn't fight back the bashful look on your face.

"Of course," you whispered. "Do you feel better?" you asked, pulling your underwear back up.

"Yeah, yeah I do," he chortled. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

You saw the sky darkening by the second and looked out the pitch. "Oh! Someone's coming!" you exclaimed.

He gave a mischievous smile that you could stare at for days, planted a quick kiss on your lips, and grabbed your hand to stand you up, brushing ur skirt down to cover your behind.

"Then let's go."

―――――――――ʚ♡ɞ―――――――――

[girllblogging777]

𝐴𝐹𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑆𝑇𝑂𝑅𝑀.ೃ࿐

↳ bf!mattheo riddle x fem reader (slight angst ? fluff) requested by @ilovematteoxx ♡

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1.2k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : you can’t find your boyfriend after an argument, and the castle is surrounded by dementors

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

the argument had started over something small. ridiculously small, actually. you couldn’t even remember the details anymore, but somehow, the two of you had managed to let it escalate and before you knew it, mattheo and you were throwing sharp words like hexes.

your boyfriend, as loving as he was, had a way of getting under your skin sometimes. he was all about teasing smirks and cocky grins that usually made you laugh, but tonight you weren’t laughing. tonight, you were tired and on edge from a long week of classes and when he joked about you taking things too seriously, something inside of you snapped.

“not everyone has the luxury of not giving a damn, mattheo.” you’d answered with your arms crossed. “not everyone has parents who don’t care.”

the moment the words left your lips, you swore you could’ve felt the air shift. it was like time froze, everything suddenly stood still and went way too quiet. mattheo’s expression shifted, the usual soft gaze he saved for you disappearing. you saw how the hurt flickered in his dark eyes, before he quickly covered it with cold indifference.

“forget it,” he said sharply before walking out, turning his heel and disappearing out of the common room before you could even get a word out.

you stood there, frozen, the weight of your words slowly sinking in. merlin, you hadn’t meant it like that. in fact, you hadn’t meant to hurt him at all. but you had and now he was gone, and you didn’t even know where.

you couldn’t focus on anything for the rest of the evening and as wandered around the castle - silently hoping you’d bump into him around the corner - the hallways felt emptier than ever. dinner passed in a blur too. every time someone entered the great hall and sat down at the slytherin table, you quickly looked up, only to realise it wasn’t him.

you spent the rest of the night alone in your dorm, laying in bed and staring at the ceiling, trying and failing to get any sleep. your last conversation kept replaying in your head, what if you’d really hurt him this time ? what if he didn’t come back ? sure, mattheo had his walls, but he never stayed mad at you for long… your mind spiralled. outside the window, everything was dark and still. inside your heart, everything was twisted in knots.

and then, just as you were finally drifting off, a loud noise jolted you awake. it wasn’t just you either, you heard frantic footsteps outside your dorm, and voices raising as well. you sat up, heart pounding and confused. it wasn’t long before a frantic knock echoed through the door, and your best friend pansy came in.

“you have to get up, everyone is being taken to the great hall. now !” she said quickly. “what’s happening ?” you asked in a panicky tone as you got out of bed. “dementors,” she muttered, pulling you outside and rushing you to join the many students making their way through the dark halls. “they’ve been spotted outside.”

your heart skipped a beat. dementors.

the crowd of students rushed to the great hall, tension filling the air, already thick with worry and whispers. you scanned the faces around, searching for any signs of mattheo. but he wasn’t there. he wasn’t anywhere.

“pansy,” you breathed, tugging on her sleeve as realisation dawned on you. “i don’t see mattheo. where is he ?”

she shrugged, concern flickering in her eyes “don’t know, i haven’t seen him since this afternoon”

you swallowed hard, your chest tightening. where was he ? the last time you saw him was when he’d left after the argument, angry and hurt. what if he was outside when the dementors had left ? what if… what if the last thing you said to him was the stupid comment about his father ?

your breathing picked up and theo noticed it from across the room, before making his way over. “what’s going on ?” he asked with furrowed brows.

“i can’t find mattheo,” you whispered with a trembling voice. “we had a fight earlier and now he’s probably out there, and-“

theo exchanged a knowing look with pansy before cutting you off by gently pulling you into a reassuring side hug “he’s fine, amore. probably just running late, you know him, always slipping off to do merlin knows what.”

but you weren’t reassured. not when the castle was in lockdown. it when dementors were around. not when mattheo was nowhere to be seen, and the last thing he heard from you was something you didn’t mean.

“i didn’t mean it,” you whispered with regret. pansy rubbed your back to comfort you but it didn’t stop the tears from welling up in your eyes as you reached the great hall. the place was crowded with panicked students and teachers, but you still felt terribly alone in your world of fear.

“i shouldn’t have said it,” you choked out, wiping your eyes and ignoring the people running around and bumping into you. “i shouldn’t have-“

before you could finish, a heavy sound echoed through the hall. the giant wooden doors swung open with a gust of cold air, and every head turned toward the entrance.

mattheo stood in the doorway, along with some others students you didn’t even glance at. his curly hair was damp with the rain, and his robes slightly disheveled. he looked like he’d been through a storm, but he was there.

without thinking, you ran. you pushed through the crowd, not caring who you bumped into, your heart racing as you closed the distance between you. by the time you reached him, a tear had managed to roll down your cheek, but you didn’t care. you threw yourself into his arms, your hands fisting his robes as you breathed him in.

“mattheo,” you gasped, holding onto him like he might disappear. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean it, i swear i didn’t mean it.”

his arms came around you immediately, pulling you close, his chin resting on top of your head. “hey, hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “it’s okay, love. i’m not mad.”

you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your slightly red eyes searching his face. “you’re not?”

he shook his head, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “no. i just… needed some time. but i’m not mad. i promise.”

you bit your lip, trying to stop the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you again. “i thought—i thought something happened to you. i was so scared.”

mattheo’s gaze softened, and he wiped the tears away with his thumb. “i’m sorry i scared you. i shouldn’t have just left like that.”

you shook your head quickly, you knew your boyfriend’s habit of walking out during arguments was just to help manage his anger. it was something he’d started doing when he realised you were the only good thing in his life, and he didn’t want to take his negative feelings out on you.

“no, it’s my fault. i shouldn’t have said what i did.” he leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “it’s okay,” he whispered. “i’m here. i’m not walking away this time.”

for the first time that night, you felt the tightness in your chest ease. the panic, the fear, it all melted away in his arms, replaced by the steady, grounding warmth of his presence. “nice pajamas by the way,” he chuckled, and you rolled your eyes.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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[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

[artytaeh]

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

MATTHEO RIDDLE— not horribly tall, but slightly above average. strong arms; what he doesn't have of height like the weasley twins, he has of muscles on his arms, even though not a ken-like amount, which he finds ugly. dark curls— inherited by his mother, the insanely crazy bellatrix lestrange, and beautiful eyes that he has no clue where he got from. long lashes, defined jawline.

in short, a handsome, easily found attractive, young man. and with that bad boy attitude? well, mattheo riddle is every girl's guilty pleasure of a daydream.

some, because they'd like to have their attitude and confidence fucked out of them, by mattheo riddle who certainly takes no bullshit. others, because they delusionally believe that they can somehow fix him— turning a doberman into a golden retriever.

mattheo riddle who's the only first year to not tremble under snape's gaze, because his father is voldemort. the thing, the person he fears the most.

mattheo riddle who doesn't even blink when teachers, older students and even intimidating people yell at him— this is child's play, compared to the cold, frightening aura of his father, and the eery sound of his mother talking to him; one second, she's calm, putting on a (scary) loving persona— then, she's raging, yelling and slamming things, hands on the table, almost throwing hands at her son.

mattheo riddle who stands on the end of the line, letting students get in front of him and even threatening some to take his place on the line, so he stands further behind. this only happens once, during that one professor lupin's class, with the boggart— because mattheo knows that it'd take the shape of his father, walking eerily towards him. not only does he hate the thought of having his classmates gossiping about him, about his family and making even more assumptions about him; but also knows that he'd stand there, paralyzed. incapable of even raising his wand, much less utter such an easy spell like riddikulus. for mattheo, what's ridiculous is his situation; how he'd love and thank the heavens, if he could have such a silly fear like insects, ghosts, or even clowns.

mattheo riddle who grows extremely confident because nothing scares him at hogwarts; after all, his father isn't there— the only thing that makes mattheo riddle tremble is his presence. anything else isn't half as frightening as coming back home to his mother, bellatrix lestrange, and father, voldemort he-who-must-not-be-named.

mattheo riddle who becomes scary and intimidating, so that no one can scare or intimidate him instead. he spent most of his third year at hogwarts practicing on the mirror— a way to turn his beautiful eyes into a dead stare, making sure that the shining glint of his eyes disappears, to become so scary, that no one would dare to mess with him like tom riddle does. or even draco malfoy, who tried to do this back on their first year, bullying mattheo into becoming his friend and follower—, but all of this was before they became genuine friends, along with theodore, lorenzo and blaise.

mattheo riddle who's known by the unhinged brother, less smart riddle— while others, who are aware of tom riddle's tendencies, call him the older psychopath brother, brilliant riddle. such a charming pair of siblings, aren't they?

mattheo riddle who smokes a whole package of cigarettes with theodore nott, when they're on the train back home. for holidays and for summer vacation, in silence, because they're too anxious and nervous to come back home, to leave their (although they're too proud to admit) safe place — hogwarts.

mattheo riddle who respects his older brother, tom riddle, because he thinks that in many ways, tom is like their father sometimes. and that scares him.

mattheo riddle who only learned how to swim and to stop fearing lakes, when his slytherin friends teached him.

( this happened on lorenzo's house, since he invited his friends to spend some days there, during summer vacation. after all, his parents are the less... frightening, in a way, and blaise zabini gatekeeps his mother from his friends, for obvious reasons. besides, lorenzo has the largest pool! upon realizing that mattheo stayed behind while they played in the swimming pool, the boys, for once, didn't turn the situation into a joke. draco stood behind, throwing opinions and dictating that they were doing it wrong— while theodore and blaise stood each by mattheo's side, making sure that he wouldn't get scared if he felt like he was drowning, while lorenzo is in front of him, advising on what to do. it was a mess. a mess that became a core memory of true friendship. )

even so, mattheo hates to go to a point of the lake where he's no longer tall enough to touch the sandy surface— because suddenly he's seven years old again, with tom riddle standing on the edge of the lake, smiling darkly at the sight of his baby brother drowning in the cold water.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

mattheo riddle who, after all of these years, still stares at his older brother with a mixture of resentment and sorrow— secretly, mattheo still wishes to be close with tom. to have a normal brotherly friendship with him, even if they're everything but a normal family. so, mattheo riddle, who envies pairs of siblings whenever he sees them around hogwarts halls, hugging, lightheartedly bullying each other. wishing he could trauma dump shared experiences of his parents with tom, who would've demolished inch after inch of mattheo's pride and feelings, calling him weak.

mattheo riddle who doesn't join draco when he bullies the weasleys. he never defends them either; he doesn't need to, because the redhead siblings stick around for each other. mattheo doesn't know if his heart feels like crying, or ripping apart with a vicious, angry jealousy that he doesn't have that. a sibling that cares enough to take care of him.

mattheo riddle who drinks and drinks and drinks until he passes out, or until he almost throws up his stomach away— rarely accepting any kind of help whatsoever, because he doesn't feel like he deserves it.

because pain and finding out a way to solve things by himself, is what he grew up used to. because his mother is a bipolar, sadistic woman; because his father is too feared by mattheo for him to even dare to consider asking for his help; because his older brother, tom riddle, isn't a pillar he can lean on to— rather, a pillar that would glady fall on top of him, crushing him under debris. he's another person to be feared, and who'd leave mattheo even worse than he already is.

mattheo riddle, who hesitantly accepts lorenzo and theodore's help. because lorenzo is too much of a mother of the group (whenever blaise isn't around, but mattheo doesn't think he'd ever allow the zabini boy to help him either. of course, this happens whenever lorenzo isn't planning his way to another girl's bed either) and by far, the most caring of the boys. or at least, the one who easily shows his worry without a hundred walls surrounding his heart.

and theodore nott, well— mattheo thinks that the term best friend is too corny, so he settles to admit that theo is the person who understands him the most. if he doesn't have tom, he has theo, to sympathize with his shitty situation, because theo's family and hardships are too similar, even though they don't share a last name.

they have matching wounds, inflicted by different people, but similar situations.

and because theodore is awfully moody, sarcastic and would punch mattheo into reason, well— mattheo unwillingly accepts theodore's (forceful) help.

· · ·

mattheo riddle who only ever has deep thoughts when he's throwing up from the alcohol, or becomes self-conscious of himself. of the evilness he provokes, of the unchanging way his fate was decided, as soon as he was conceived in his mother's womb. how he, no matter how he'd like to change, believes that he's a lost cause.

something that's not worth the effort, since mattheo riddle, younger brother of tom riddle, son of bellatrix lestrange and the dark lord himself, must have been born with a vicious evil heart. how could he not, with a family like this?

it must be on his dna. or so he believes.

when he's drunk, puke being wiped out from his lips and alone in the bathroom— this is the only time when mattheo riddle allows himself to pity himself. other than that, he'd scoff at the thought of doing so; because that's a weak thing to do.

and to survive his family, mattheo wouldn't dare to be weak a single day of his life. he might get killed if he allows a moment of weakness around his family. whatever family means, anyways.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

mattheo riddle who's always the first one to start a fight— and never the one to end it. either his friends push him away, or he's held down by some spell casted by one of hogwarts' teachers.

however, he will start a fight with a group of five gryffindors, if they make a nasty comment about mattheo's friends. if they dare to assume, to gossip, to say one mean word about the friends that tolerate mattheo's behavior even on his shittiest days. the first thing he does is grab the last one talking by the collar, so that his fist naturally punches the guy's face. yes, mattheo can keep up a fight with five guys— even though he knows that, as much of a good and violent fighter as he is, there's no way that he won't leave with a few bruises (and bloody knuckles from rashly punching back and forth).

nevertheless, mattheo riddle won't ever allow theodore or his friends to join him, if he's about to have a 1v1. not even to intimidate or make a single threat— mattheo thinks that it's pathetic and coward to do so, which is why sometimes, mattheo doesn't help draco when he puts up a stunt against a single student (or a group that is outnumbered by malfoy's little friends). when draco comes back, mattheo won't scold him— but he won't shut up either, at least making sure that by some miracle, draco understands how coward it is to do that, from the sarcastic comment that mattheo throws with no hesitation.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

mattheo riddle who actually has one of the most beautiful smiles. once his usual dead stare is gone, showing how those dark eyes of his can look so sweet and bright— squinting into half moons, when he truly laughs or smiles genuinely. his smile is one that makes you think that maybe, just maybe, there isn't any evil or meanness to this slytherin boy.

mattheo riddle who is so touch starved, that only a warm gaze from you, is enough to melt him and (at least mentally) get him on his knees. those dark eyes soften and follow every movement of yours— looking like a lost puppy, when you eventually shift your attention to something else, your gaze leaving him. he won't grab you, he won't yell for your attention out of pride— but if you were to look into his eyes, you'd see how mattheo silently hopes to some deity that you'll have your attention on him once again.

mattheo riddle who doesn't know how to be gentle, because he never knew gentle touches, caresses and soft approaches. this man is almost stupid because of this sometimes— mattheo isn't even aware of his own strength, so when he does hurt you unintentionally (by grabbing holding your wrist) and gets scolded about it... he'll genuinely look at you, confused. sure, he'll apologize— fine, sorry!

. . . however, mattheo isn't sure what he did wrong. was it really that hurtful? to him, he was simply holding you, not grabbing...

( because mattheo riddle was never held, only yanked or dragged along. )

mattheo riddle who would love to have people playing with his hair. twirl his curls around your fingers, tug at it (but gently, please! he easily complains at the slightest hint of discomfort!), massage his scalp, caress his dark hair— mattheo melts and for a moment, wonders if sleep does arrive to him this fast at night, like it does now that you're touching him there.

so yes, during classes, mattheo sneakily stands on the door frame— carefully watching where you decide to take your seat, before he marches up to you so he can take the other chair of said desk.

mattheo marches confidently, hands on his pockets and body a little bend to the front; focused on his target: you.

all of his concentration is locked on his goal: your attention for the whole class. and if he's too late, because some annoying girl or asshole with pants got there before him? one glare from mattheo, and they're gone.

mattheo doesn't even bother to take his books; he greets, crosses his arms on top of the table, settles his head there— and if you're too slow to understand what's this whole preparation for, well, mattheo has no problem to make his intentions clear, by (much gentler, this time) grabbing your hand and settling it on his head. among his dark curls.

and if you notice that they look softer and taken care of— well, mattheo won't be catch dead and much less alive saying it. but blaise noticed how mattheo bought a new shampoo, conditioner and a weird bottle that seems to help curly hair like mattheo's.

AND HOW DID AN ALL-IN-ONE SHAMPOO USER LIKE MATTTHEO, KNEW WHAT PRODUCTS TO USE IN WHICH ORDER, FROM DAY TO NIGHT? oh, that was easy; mattheo spent an evening leaning against the entrance of the slytherin common room, watching intently every student that entered or left during that hour of the day. his eyes glared up and down— searching for a slytherin, be it a witch or a wizard, older or younger than him, that has a type of hair similar (if not identical) to his.

finally, a slytherin girl was on her way to hang out with her friends. that is, until mattheo nonchalantly grabs her by the collar of her shirt, right when she innocently passes by him, then drags the girl along with him to a secluded corner of the slytherin common room.

( out of love for life and respect for their well-being, it's safe to say that her friends didn't come to save her. though, props to them, because they kept watching... just in case. of, you know, having to search for help. )

the slytherin girl trembles on her spot, rethinking her life choices; wondering if she had done anything to offend mattheo riddle, the dark lord's son— not the psychopath, the unhinged one. when he bends down, so that he's face to face with her, eyes squinting with his jaw clenched...

she closes her eyes. wondering if she'd be punched or have her hair grabbed to be slammed against the wall. however, after awkward ten seconds pass and her body is still intact, she opens one eye, to see mattheo making a grimace.

a grimace that would be funny if he wasn't so scary. a grimace that seemed to ask, 'what the fuck are you doing?'. which would have been verbalized, mind you, if mattheo didn't have a list of priorities at the moment. he opens his mouth, and this slytherin girl feared to have hallucinated such an innocent, random question.

'which products do you use for your hair?'

( ten minutes later, after having explained her hair routine in detail to mattheo riddle himself, who took notes and hummed for her to keep going, the slytherin girl goes back to her friend group. pale. she doesn't give details— no one would believe her. and she doesn't think that mattheo riddle would like having people know that he's about to spend 100 galleons on hair products to please you. )

౨ৎ please understand that i'm trying my hardest, ♡ ͡

my head's a mess, but i'm trying regardless . . .

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— i noticed that i have a few mattheo girlies enjoying my writing, so! please consider this a little bittersweet drabble for you. once again, tysm for the feedback! ♥︎

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x best friend!fem!reader

Summary: You and James stumble upon an ancient book of spells rumored to enhance pleasure.

Genre: SMUT (nsfm) + hurt and comfort

Warnings: sex while under an 'aphrodisiac' of some kind, unprotected sex, penetration, cock warming, quickie, public (not seen by anyone), riding, insecurities, porn with plot ✨

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

"Someone is gonna see us," you whisper, feeling James Potter's hand in yours, his thumb occasionally soothing circles over your palm as you stumble in the dark corridors under his invisibility cloak.

"That's the point of the cloak, love," James answers, holding in a laugh as he guides you towards the entrance to the library and he mutters the spell for the lock as you hold your breath. 

"Hear us then," you counter, unconsciously squeezing his hand for reassurance. 

James doesn't hesitate to return the squeeze and he smiles when the lock opens with a click. He opens the door and you both squeeze inside.

Once the door shuts behind you, James drops the cloak and you let out a shaky exhale, adjusting your hair. The room is dark and it smells like dust. You hold in a cough as James mutters, "Lumos," and then grins like he'd gone mad.

"Told ya we'd be fine," he sing-songs and kicks your shoe in a playful manner as he walks by you to look at all the restricted books. 

You groan and take out your wand, walking along the shelves as you pick up dust with your index. "Are you looking for something in particular?" you ask, your voice low as you read the names of books, realizing just how dangerous this could become.

James nods. "Yeah, I bet Sirius I could find "Moste Potente Potions" so we could make some Polyjuice potion," he says casually. 

"And you needed me, why?!" you turn to glare at your best friend. 

James looks at you with a smile. "Didn't really. I'just like your company."  

You bite the inside of your cheek and go back to looking at the books. "Polyjuice is dangerous, James. Are you sure you want to meddle with that?"

James nods again and he hums, "I'm top of the class in Potions, I'm sure I can handle some Polyjuice." He sounds smug and you roll your eyes at his behavior.

James is reckless and impulsive and honestly, you're worried about him making that potion with his friends. You don't dare bring it up, because who are you to tell James what to do? You aren't his girlfriend or anything—

"Woah," James's voice interrupts your thoughts as he walks over to you. You turn, standing in front of him as he flips the pages of some old dusty book. "These spells are ancient—and completely forbidden—" he mutters, his eyes round with excitement. 

You tilt your head and read the title; "Antiqua Cantus." Ancient Spells.

"Bloody Hell, there's a pleasure-enhancing spell–like a sexual thing—" James exclaims and holds the book open to you so you can see. You walk over and stand next to him, looking over his shoulder at the spell. James begins to recite the spell and you read along, entranced by the words on the worn-out parchment.

By moonlight's glow and stars above, 

Ignite the flames of lustful love. 

Let passion's heat our bodies bind,

In ecstasy, our souls combined.

Whisper soft this sacred plea,

Unleash our wildest fantasy.

Once he's finished, you glance around the page and frown. "Shit." You grab the book from James and then look up at him with wide eyes, "James, this is a wandless spell!" you whisper and his eyes widen like yours did as he realizes what happened. 

He grabs the book from you and reads the instructions. His shoulders relax and he points to the small print— "It says the participants must have already existing feelings for this to work," he mumbles and looks up at you, smiling reassuringly and unsure all the same. "So—"

"Yeah—" you whisper, stepping away from him.

"I feel fine," James starts.

"I do too," you say, feeling completely normal. 

James shuts the book with a slam and his smile returns. "Thing is probably too old to work, anyways," he says confidently. You nod, less confident than he is but you push those worries down. 

He doesn't like you like that—so why would it work?

Once James finally finds the book he's looking for, you both cram under the cloak and you make your way back to the dorm. You ignore the feeling, but your head feels fuzzier than it should. Every brush on James's arm against yours sends shivers up your spine. You're extra aware of how he smells and it's intoxicating. You bite your lip, hoping the pain will distract you from the pleasure building. 

The spell. 

James looks normal. He's even humming the Hogwarts song under his breath, his eyes trained forward as you make it to the Common Room. It feels so unfair—that he's fine and your stomach twists with butterflies as your nipples harden painfully against your bra. 

It isn't fair. 

As soon as you have the chance, you pull away from James and sit on the couch, pressing your thighs together. You glance up at the stairs to the girl's dorms, wondering if you should run up and take a cold shower to quench the ache.

"Hey, you okay?" James asks, folding up the cloak as he looks you over.

Bloody fuck, his voice. 

"Mhmm," you nod, focusing your attention on anything but how turned on you are or how hot James sounds and looks. How much you want his lips on yours. 

You clench your thighs again, nervously pressing your hands in between them and your breath hitches when James sits next to you, his hand flat on your thigh. You inhale. 

"Are you sure?" he asks, looking at you behind his glasses with a look that makes you want to pounce on him. This is so humiliating. You move your thigh so his hand slips onto the couch and James's frown deepens. "Hey," he whispers again, "What's happened?"

You feel like your entire body is on fire. You need to touch yourself or throw yourself out a window—you can't make up your mind.

"The stupid spell—" you say, your voice soft as you avoid his gaze and stare at your knees, feeling your hands shake. "it's working and I- I can't handle it, James," 

He doesn't answer for a moment until you hear a familiar laugh. "Oh, darling," he says, his hand finding your chin as he turns your head around, grinning. "Look at me." 

You do so but he shakes his head, his eyes shimmering. "No. Look at me," he whispers, his voice husky and deep and your eyes widen when you understand what he means. Your gaze falls from his eyes to the painful-looking bulge tenting his trousers and you inhale sharply, the sight causing your mind to haze over. How had you missed this!?

"Look at what it's done to me, love," James finishes as his thumb strokes your cheek. "We really messed up this time, didn't we?" he hums.

"You messed up," you whisper, leaning into his touch. Thank Merlin no one is in the Common Room at this hour because your desperation is embarrassing.

"I messed up," James says with a strained smirk and he twirls some of your hair in his fingers. "Can I make it up to you, darling? Can I make the ache go away?"

James knows this is wrong. You're both under some kind of sexually enhancing spell—this is so many shades of messed up. Still, his heart and dick yearn for you. Somehow, he's managed to hide it well, most likely because he'd had experience in that department—James was constantly turned on to some level when he was around you. He can't help himself. 

"H-how?" you ask, the idea of giving in to the desires not even crossing your mind. 

James smirks, looking at you as his glasses fall down his nose. He pats his thigh. You look down, your eyes widening. You shouldn't. This is wrong. Still, your body responds to him without your brain's permission as you lift yourself to straddle his lap. Your skirt bunches up your thighs as your arms wrap around James's shoulder. You gasp for air at how sensitive you are and you can't look him in the eye.

You can feel him hard and needy against you and you swallow. 

"Look at me," James whispers once more, his voice husky and deep as his hands grip your hips and he moves you up and down his trousers. You whine and bury your face in the crook of his neck, your skin clammy and flushed from need. 

Suddenly the movements stop and your grip tightens around his shoulders. 

"Look at me," he says again, lips pressed to your ear as he sounds as desperate as you are. "O-or I'll stop," he threatens, not sounding convincing considering the spell is starting to hit him hard and he's about ready to come in his trousers. 

You pull away, looking at him as your mind buzzes and you search his eyes for some hint that you both need to stop this. You see none so you say, your voice strained, "James. Fucking need you, please."

You lift your hips, finding his zipper and fumbling with his trousers as you push aside your panties. It's rushed and sweaty and not at all romantic like you'd planned—not to mention public. You pray everyone else is asleep and won't walk in on you sitting on your best friend's cock.  

With a moan, you press down and he slides in easily. "Shit, you're so wet," James mumbles as he kisses your neck, holding you close as his cock twitches inside you. You both don't even think of the fact he's not wearing a condom or anything. You're too lost in the pleasure for any rational thoughts.

"Fuck," you groan, keeping him inside you without movement for a while. You hold him as close as possible, needing him. Needing his warmth.

James groans, his eyes shut in pleasure as he holds himself back from fucking you roughly. He's going to explode at any moment if he doesn't feel you move. "Y/n," he warns, his hands tightening even more on your poor hips. 

You take that as an invitation and you move, your movements slow and languid in the beginning, feeling every pull and stretch and you can't tell if James's cock just feels so much better than any others you've been with, or if the spell is messing with you. 

Perhaps it's a little of both. 

"Bloody hell," James grunts, losing control, as he moves you with him, his hips snapping up into you. You gasp, falling onto his shoulder as you hold him even closer, the pleasure almost unbearable.

You don't know if it's been hours or mere minutes but once James spills himself into you, his hands around your back as he continues to move your body to his liking, you can't hold it in and your mouth opens, a silent moan catching you by surprise as you finish around him. You feel weak and fuzzy almost instantly as if the string master that kept you aware suddenly cut you loose. 

James's hand soothingly runs in your hair as he pants, his eyes shut. The only sound you can hear is your and James' ragged breaths and all you can smell is the burnt-out firewood and sex. You feel much calmer now as your brain tries to catch up with the events that just transpired, and when it does your blood runs cold.

You sit up, looking down at your best friend. He's looking at you, not daring to speak. You'd just fucked him with such want and need and yet all you can think about when you look at him is how you did all that without knowing the feeling of his lips on yours.

Shame burns your skin and you scramble off him, the feeling of his cock leaving from inside you makes you wince as you hold in all the emotions that threaten to overwhelm you. 

"Hey," James whispers, his hand reaching for yours as he stops you from running away, standing up in the process so he's looking at you. He drops your hand and, clearly embarrassed, tucks himself back inside his trousers. You stare at him, feeling dirty from an experience you'd wished had been amazing. 

And it was more than amazing if you were honest with yourself. You'd never been more satisfied in your life, but it also wasn't what you'd really wanted. Was it too cliché to want roses and candles? A steamy kiss and some swoon-worthy romantic confession? 

Instead, you'd gotten love bites and finger dents.

"What's going on in your head?" James's voice interrupts your thoughts as he moves closer. 

"Hmm?"

"Darling, come on, please talk to me," he insists, wanting to know exactly what you're feeling so he can understand his own feelings. 

You cover your face with your hands, head dipping down as your body finally calms down from the surplus of hormones you've experienced.

"We shouldn't have done that, James—I–it was wrong," your voice fades as his hands find your wrists and he pulls them down. He looks hurt, sad, and guilty all in one emotion painted on his handsome face. 

"Do you regret it?" he asks, his voice wavering. 

You open your mouth to say yes but hold yourself back. It's more complicated than that. "I don't know– I just didn't think it would happen like this and—we didn't even kiss," you ramble, avoiding looking at him. You should have been looking because then you could have seen his next move coming.

James gently takes your cheeks in his hands, pulling you into him so he can kiss your lips. For something surprising, it isn't forceful at all. He doesn't kiss you longer than a few seconds and he doesn't use his tongue. He's delicate with you, making sure he isn't crossing any boundaries.

When he moves away, your eyes are open and you're silent for a moment. Then, you grab his collar and pull him in, crashing your lips onto his. You kiss him like he's your last meal on earth--like you've been starved of him. He feels so good pressed against you, his hands in your hair and then your cheeks again, and then your waist. You feel dizzy and you pull away. Your lips feel swollen and love-bitten and you're a flustered mess.

James continues to hold you close as he presses his forehead to yours, his thumb rubbing your waist. "You're amazing," he speaks so softly as a faint smile graces his lips. 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I don't tell you enough, do I?" James smiles and tilts his head. He leans in and kisses your neck. "You're amazing—so wonderful," he inhales your scent but doesn't comment on it and a shiver runs up your spine. 

"I– we–" You want to bring up the fact you had sex with him but James puts his finger on your lips, his thumb rubbing under your chin and he shakes his head. 

"Stop worrying so much, lovely. It's okay. I promise it's okay. I didn't hurt you did I?"

You shake your head and James's smile turns into a grin.

"Good. So we're okay, hm?" he looks at you expectantly. "You're still my best friend."

Your heart thumps loudly in your ears. Best friends. "Y-yeah, you're still my best friend, Jamie," you say, your voice strained as you smile reluctantly. 

You want to be so much more than best friends.

James can sense your hesitation and he takes a breath. "W-would you want to try to be more than just friends, Y/n?" he pauses, and then his voice picks up, "and I'm not saying that because we just fucked. No. I'm saying this because I'm hopelessly in love with you and I think you love me too. You kissed me like you love me. I want to try to make this work."

You feel like the world is crashing around you. Your skin feels clammy and your head is dizzy. Still, an unfamiliar warmth spreads all around you. You feel blissful and you reach for James's hand, needing to hold him. He lets you hold his hand and he intertwines his fingers into yours. He looks nervous like he's expecting a rejection.  

"I do love you, James. So much. I want to try this too," you whisper, looking at him with a shy smile. 

James's grin widens and he picks you up, spinning you around as he keeps you close when your feet touch the ground again. "I'll do right by you, my love," he whispers in your ear and you hold your hands behind his neck. 

"So no more late-night trips to the restricted sections and trying old, dangerous, spells?" you tease.

James nips at your ear. "I kinda liked this one."

You laugh and swat his pec, your hand trailing down his chest as you fist his shirt and look up at him with a mockingly stern look. "Don't be a smartass, you wanker."

James returns your laugh and kisses behind your ear. "No more trips to the restricted section and trying old dangerous spells. Pink swear."

You pull away and hold out your pinky, which he takes and you grin. 

"We can still have sex though, hm. We don't need a spell to do that, right?" he teases but the question almost sounds serious. 

You roll your eyes. "James."

"I'm just making sure!" 

[elliemarchetti]

Echo Trails

A Dramione drabble for @liquidluckdrabblechallenge prompt #61

Prompt: Flash

Plot: Hermione can't concentrate at work due to an encounter she had with Draco a few days earlier.

Words: 231

Hermione couldn't concentrate. She wanted to, given she was at work and she was staying overtime again, but flash of memories flooded her mind insistently, leaving her staring into space for highly inappropriate periods of time. Even the images her subconscious was presenting weren’t exactly the type one should dwell on at the office, but no matter how hard she tried to supress them, an innocent movement of her legs or the tickling of her curls on her neck were enough to remind her of what she’d done. If someone told her teenage self that her adult version would fantasize about Draco Malfoy, younger Hermione, gifted with a fiery temper and little patience, would probably have thrown one of her famous well-aimed punches, but at twenty-three she was wise enough to know that life was full of nuances and changes, and both her and the one who had once been her archenemy had faced many of them.

I can’t stop kissing you, he had whispered that night, their lips still so close they touched with every breath, his hands roaming freely from her face to the skin usually hidden under her shirt. Words she had thought inconsequential, dictated by the heat of the moment, and which instead had led to the splendid bouquet sitting on her desk, the note hidden between the petals.

Until we meet again. Perhaps on Friday night?

[marauderswriting]

What do you think about Hogwarts Legacy ?

[amiableness]

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 3671 words & 18+

here it is! part two of this blurb. all the hugs and kisses to @moonpascal for reading and giving me tips/ideas! also, here's the series masterlist for these two 💌 happy reading, angels! 💌

While James is gone, your thoughts spiral out of control. You consider slipping out of his bed and retreating to the living room, where the space feels less charged. A nagging voice in your mind insists that James would be more at ease if you weren’t in his bed. You’ve been in his bed before, shared countless late-night conversations and quiet moments, but this time it feels wildly different. 

The air was thick with tension, something you’d felt even after James left the room, and it made you question whether you should create some distance before he returned. The last thing you wanted was to put him in an uncomfortable position. Lying in his bed while his son called you "mum" surely must have felt that way to him. 

You’ve just sat up in bed, ready to slip out from under the covers, when James quietly reenters the room, closing the door with a soft click. He turns and catches sight of you sitting up, your uncertainty evident in the way you watch him. One brow arches in silent inquiry, his gaze locking onto yours.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“Uh,” you murmur, easing yourself back into the sheets, your hands nervously smoothing out the wrinkles in the fabric. “No.” 

James lets out a satisfied hum, his voice low and warm, “Good.”

You chew on your lip, watching as he runs a hand through his hair, tousling the curls. You fight back a smile, thinking how just a few minutes ago, Henry’s hair looked exactly the same.

“Listen,” he starts. “I want to thank you for going along with Henry calling you mum. I know it might have been a bit of a shock.” His voice is soft as he acknowledges the almost-four-year-old sleeping down the hallway. You feel a wave of emotion at the mention of the little boy.

“A bit.” You say softly.

“I’m sorry,” he admits, his voice tinged with guilt as he runs a hand through his hair again—a gesture that betrays his nerves. “I’ll talk to him in the morning and explain that he can’t call you that.”

A pause lingers between you. Neither of you speaks, the quiet hum of the TV the only thing breaking the stillness.

“Or you don’t have to.” You say gently, pushing the covers aside as you shift to the edge of the bed in front of him. He watches you intently, his eyes darting down to trace over your bare legs. You’re wearing the shorts that drive him crazy—especially now, with you in his bed.

“What?” He asks, his tone dripping with surprise.

“It’s okay if he wants to call me ‘mum'. If you're okay with it,” you say shyly, and he can tell from the way you bite down on your lower lip and stare up at him that you’re nervous. “I consider him mine.” You continue, your voice coming out in a near whisper.

That’s all it takes.

James pushes himself forward with a determined intensity, his hand cupping your cheek as he tilts your head back, forcing your eyes to meet his. His thumb gently caresses your bottom lip, sending a shiver through you as your lashes flutter with anticipation. He leans in, his breath mingling with yours, and captures your lips in a deep, hungry kiss. You respond with a shuddering sigh.

He pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips, “He is yours.”

You can hardly respond. The words are stuck in your throat, trapped by the rising emotions. You couldn’t have heard him right. “Jamie, I—”

“You’ve raised him with me.” He tells you, kneeling between your legs, his warm palms gently pushing your thighs apart so he can press close to you.

A slow, gentle kiss is pressed to your cheek, “Been such a good mum, darling.” He whispers, his voice is rough against your ear.

James grins at the sound of the soft whimper that escapes your lips. Eyes wide and lips parted, you gaze up at him, caught between surprise and desire.

He’s beginning to think you like being praised.

“Always so good for me, aren’t you?” He tests as his lips graze the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. You instinctively reach out, threading your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer as a surge of heat shoots through you, straight to between your legs.

He grins, his theory proven correct. Your hips roll, desperate for friction, as your chest pushes further into his.

“Taking care of my son,” Your eyes flutter closed, letting him run his palm down your neck, tilting your head to the side. Another kiss is placed below your ear, pulling a whimper from your lips. “Our son”

The hand that isn’t cradling your neck glides up your thigh, fingers grazing your skin before gripping your hip firmly, his touch possessive. He squeezes the flesh, sending a wave of heat through you. The sigh you let out is soft, almost a whimper, betraying how desperately you’re losing control under his touch.

“Jamie.” A whimper escapes you as desire coils tightly in your stomach, almost unbearable. You’ve never ached for someone’s touch as much as you do now, every nerve ending alive with need.

“It’s your turn to be taken care of, love.” He mumbles, trailing soft kisses down your neck. Your face tightens, struggling to contain the lump that forms in your throat from his words. 

He pulls back from you, sitting back on his heels as he begins to unbutton his shirt. Your mouth goes dry as your gaze locks onto his fingers, watching them deftly work each button open, one by one. He’s moving slowly, almost deliberately, focusing on the task as if he’s oblivious to how your eyes are glued to him. 

But you know better than that.

The fabric parts gradually, revealing more of his chest with each undone button, and the air between you seems to thicken with anticipation. 

Your focus is dialed into the movement of his hands and the soft rustle of his shirt as he moves. Your thighs press together, the anticipation building unbearably. You reach for the band of his dress pants, fingers curling around the fabric, trying to convey your urgent need. His eyes flicker up to meet yours, and he gives you a smile that’s as devastating as it is knowing.

“Slide up on the bed, darling.” He tells you as he pops open the last button and slides his shirt off, revealing his tanned and toned torso.

You obey without hesitation, your body responding instinctively to his command.

He casually tosses his shirt onto the top of the dresser, the fabric landing in a careless heap. Then he climbs onto the bed, moving with deliberate ease until he’s hovering over you, his presence overwhelming and inescapable.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he mutters, his voice rough with an intensity you’ve never seen in him before. “So beautiful that sometimes I can’t even think straight when I’m around you.”

“Stop it.” You sigh, though there’s no real sharpness in your tone. You’re simply trying to mask how flustered he’s making you.

His fingers slip beneath the strap of your tank top, tugging it off your shoulder, “I’m serious, baby. Do you know how many years I’ve spent dreaming of worshiping your body?”

Baby. That's new.

“Fuck, I need you to touch me.” You sigh, your voice coated in desperation. 

“Yeah?” He asks, his voice dripping with a cocky undertone. You hate how much it stirs you up, the confidence in his tone intensifying your reaction.

You nod frantically, “Yeah.”

Your eyes flutter closed as James slides the other strap of your top off your shoulder. There’s a brief, charged pause before you feel his lips grazing your collarbone, his breath warm against your skin. He murmurs tender compliments, his words melting into the softness of your skin.

The hem slips down, exposing your breasts to the cool air, and you can feel your nipples harden. James curses before leaning down, eager to press a soft kiss against your right nipple. You draw in a sharp breath, so sudden that James glances up at you in surprise. But you’re too absorbed in the sensation, head thrown back, to notice his reaction.

He takes his time, sucking on your nipples until you’re whining before trailing kisses lower and lower down your body. Stopping at the band of your sleep shorts, he glances up at you for permission. You meet his gaze and give him a small nod, and then he’s tugging down the flimsy fabric along with your panties and tossing them aside.

The light from his lamp is reflecting off your slick, and he’s never wanted anything more. All those years he spent dreaming of this moment, imagining what it would be like to have you this close. Now that it’s finally happening, he can’t quite grasp that it’s real—that you’re here, within reach, and this isn’t just another fleeting fantasy.

“Fuck, I wanna taste you,” James groans, staring down at your soaked pussy. “Please let me, baby.”

You don’t say anything but instead spread your thighs, your hands gripping underneath the backs of your knees. He grins, his hands sliding up the backs of your thighs to hold you open for him. The tip of his nose brushes against your thighs as he leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive skin. The shaky exhale that slips from your lips at his touch has him growing uncomfortably hard. 

When he nips at your inner thigh, a playful squeal escapes your lips, and you tug at his curls with a mischievous grin. Gently, you guide his head so he’s lined up with your pussy, your touch both commanding and affectionate.

He doesn’t waste any time, his tongue sliding right through your slick as he moans into you.

You let out a moan so loud that he reaches up and clamps his hand over your mouth. The last thing he needs is Henry waking up and cockblocking him.

He keeps his hand over your mouth, feeling the vibrations of your sighs and whimpers against his palm. If it weren’t for his son sleeping just down the hall, he’d be urging you to let go and be as loud as you wish. Begging you to let him hear just how good he was making you feel.

Your thighs jerk, and James grips you harder, pushing you back down into the sheets. Wetness is beginning to drip down onto the sheets, and the way James sloppily licks and sucks at your cunt doesn’t help the mess. He couldn't care less about the mess gathering on his sheets. The only thing on his mind is making you feel so good that you can’t possibly think straight.

At the feeling of the tips of his fingers tracing along your entrance, you moan, desperately nodding your head to tell him to keep going. He listens, slipping a finger slowly into you and curling upwards. He watches transfixed as you arch your back, and he can’t decide which sight he likes more. The sight of his finger slipping into you so easily or the complete look of desperation on your face.

“God, you look so fucking pretty like this.” James hums, pressing a kiss onto your clit before glancing back up at you. Against his better judgment, he pulls his hand away from your mouth, desperate to hear the pretty noises you’re making.

He’s not at all disappointed; the way you moan his name makes him dizzy.

“Got the prettiest pussy too.” He hums, pulling his fingers away to circle your clit. When he pinches your clit you shriek, jolting at the sensation that shoots through you. Your legs are shaking, and you can feel the building hot pressure settling into your body.

James shifts, moving further up your body so that he can settle next to you. His fingers are still rubbing tight circles against your clit, and you don’t get a chance to ask what he’s doing before he’s leaning down and sucking your nipple into his mouth.

The sensation sends you over the edge, vision blurring into white as you’re consumed by the intense, toe-curling orgasm. Your gasp is startingly loud, so James leans down and kisses you hard, muffling your cries as you grip his bicep in one hand and the sheets in the other hand. He keeps the same pace, swirling his fingers over your pussy in the most delicious way as he works you through your orgasm. He slows his movements once he notices your breathing has evened out and your eyes have fluttered open.

“Fuck,” you sigh, your chest heaving as you look up at James with wide, glassy eyes. He smiles down at you, pressing a quick, tender kiss to your lips. At that moment, you’re certain he’s ruined you for any other man—though, truth be told, he did that years ago.

“You’ve got the prettiest moans I’ve ever heard.” He speaks with such sincerity that you’re certain your gaze is filled with the most lovesick adoration.

“James.” You say softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you reach up to gently brush the curls away from his face. Your fingertips graze his skin, lingering for a moment on his cheek as he looks down at you, his eyes filled with an emotion that matches your own.

You know he’s deeply in love with you, just as you are with him.

“What, baby?”

“I want to feel you inside of me.” Your fingers reach down to grasp the waistband of his dress pants. James looks momentarily startled when he glances down and realizes he’s still wearing them. With a flurry of hurried movements, he fumbles to unbutton and shove them off, and you can’t help but giggle at the endearing clumsiness of his efforts.

You barely have time to admire how beautiful he looks before he’s positioning himself over you, his body pressing close. He cages you in with his arms on either side of your head, leaning down to plant a tender kiss on your forehead.

“I need to grab a cond—” James begins as he glances over at his nightstand, but you cut him off with a gentle smile, “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

"But there's a chance—" He stops himself, the words catching in his throat as he swallows hard, the mere thought too overwhelming to fully process. He can't let his mind linger on the image of you pregnant with his child; he just can't.

"I know," you reply, your voice steady as you give him an encouraging nod, trying to offer reassurance.

James looks so startled that you immediately worry you’ve said the wrong thing. “Please, baby,” he urges, his voice tinged with desperation, “tell me you’re being serious.”

You giggle, “I am.”

“Fuck.” He lets out a low groan, reaching down to grip his cock, dragging the tip through your folds. The sharp gasp you release makes James glance up at you. 

He’s never witnessed anything so captivating. Your eyes are closed, head tilted to the side, with your swollen bottom lip caught between your teeth in a way that drives him wild.

He drags himself further down until he’s lined up with your entrance, and you let out a shaky exhale. As he pushes past your tight walls, he grits his teeth, resisting the urge to shove his hips forward and fill you in one go. But instead, he fixates on your face—the way your brows furrow in pleasure and your lips part, adjusting to the feel of his cock easing in.

“You feel so much better than I imagined, shit.” He gasps, watching the way his cock pushes past your snug entrance and sinks into you slowly. You suck him in so easily, and he swallows hard, silently begging himself to hold it together.

“Jamie, oh my god.” You moan, blindly reaching out a hand to grip his shoulder, the other gripping the sheets.

“I know, baby,” He grunts. “Almost there.” He stills for a second, needing a second to breathe. It’s been ages since he last had sex, and it doesn’t help that it’s you he’s slipping his cock into.

“Keep going, please.” It must be the tone of your voice, that soft, irresistible lilt, that drives him to surge forward as if he can't hold back any longer. The forceful thrust tears a moan from your throat, your hand instinctively flying up to clutch his as it grips your hip with a possessive intensity. At the touch of your fingers, he instinctively twists his hand to intertwine them with yours. With a steady push, he leans over you, pressing your joined hands into the sheets.

Your eyes flutter open, slowly tracing over him, taking in every detail, before finally locking onto his gaze. He’s just so breathtakingly beautiful. His dark curls fall messily over his forehead, his lips are pink and inviting, and a deep blush colors his cheeks. You’ve never seen him like this before, so vulnerable and raw, and you’re overwhelmed with gratitude that you get to witness him like this, even if it’s just this once.

A gentle kiss lands on your lips, the softness of his touch lingering for a moment. You let out a quiet sigh, your breath blending with his in a simple, shared connection. His lips remain lightly pressed against yours as he drags his cock through your pussy. Your back arches instinctively, and a soft, pleading whine escapes into his mouth.

He quickens the pace, yet it remains slow and tender, leaving you breathless and dazed. As your head tilts to the side, he seizes the moment to press gentle kisses along your shoulder, his touch soothing compared to the burn of pleasure between your thighs.

“God, I love your moans.” He mumbles, rolling his hips into yours. Being this close allows him to hear every sound you make—the soft catch of your breath, the subtle shifts in your sighs, and the faint murmurs of pleasure. Each noise is crisp and intimate, a testament to the closeness you share.

“Love your pretty lips.” He murmurs softly, his voice low and intimate, as he leans in to press his lips against yours. The kiss is gentle but insistent, and you can barely manage to reciprocate, your movements sluggish and overwhelmed. Yet he doesn't seem to mind; his focus is entirely on making you feel good.

“Love how well you take me.” He murmurs praise with a tender, reverent tone, each word wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The effect is immediate; you release a choked sob as his hand slides from your neck down your body. He gently slides his hand under your thigh, lifting it and securing it over his hip with a possessive yet gentle grip. The shift in position pulls you even closer and has him hitting that delicious spot that makes your mind go blissfully blank.

You’re utterly undone, and it’s all too clear in your voice. Each desperate plea of his name tumbles from your lips, mingled with breathless, disjointed words about how incredible everything feels. The raw vulnerability in your tone, the way you falter and stutter with pleasure, tells him just how close you are

“James, I—” you cry out, your voice breaking as you squeeze his hand with a desperate intensity. Your other hand weaves through his tousled curls, tugging him closer. You pull his lips to yours with an urgent, almost pleading motion, your heart racing as the warmth of his lips meet yours. “I’m gonna cum. Fuck.”

He keeps the rhythm steady, his lips lingering on your cheeks with soft, reverent kisses before moving slowly down your neck. Each kiss is deliberate and tender, a gentle exploration that sends a cascade of shivers across your skin. The warmth of his breath mingles with the sensation of his lips, heightening the intimacy of the moment and deepening the connection between you.

“Fuck, I love you.” He grits out a few strained words, his voice rough and laden with raw emotion. That simple utterance is enough to shatter your composure. In an instant, you’re undone, your body trembling and mind swirling as you surrender entirely to the intensity of the moment.

The intense feeling of you squeezing him tightly, overwhelms his senses, causing his thoughts to dissolve into a haze of pleasure. His body reacts instinctively, and without much warning, he spills into you as he helps you ride out your high. He curses under his breath, his head sinking to your shoulder, the weight of his exhaustion and satisfaction pressing against you.

It takes a moment for both of you to catch your breath, chests heaving and hearts pounding in the aftermath. As you gradually come back to yourselves, he gently pulls away from your shoulder, meeting your glassy-eyed gaze with his own. You stare at him, wide-eyed, your hair a tangled mess and mascara smudged. Despite the disheveled appearance, he thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful.

“Did I—” you trail off, your voice faltering as you shift your hand from his tangled curls to cradle his cheek gently. Your thumb brushes lightly against his skin, your gaze searching his face. “Did you just say you loved me?” The words come out in a soft, trembling whisper, your eyes wide and filled with a mix of hope and disbelief.

“Yes.” James admits; there’s a shake to his voice as he bites his lip nervously. The admission wasn’t meant to slip out. Instead of apologizing, he shifts his focus to the tears welling up in your eyes. Before he can process it, you lean in and kiss him fiercely, the intensity of emotions seeping through.

“Like you’re in love with me?” You ask, your voice trembling with disbelief. James offers a nervous, yet hopeful smile.

“Uh huh.” He confirms softly, his eyes reflecting a vulnerable sincerity.

“I love you. So fucking much, James Potter.”

please reblog or comment with your thoughts! they are very appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing! 🤍

[rafesslxt]

✧.* 𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑬 𝑵𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻 𝑺𝑵𝑨𝑪𝑲 | 𝒕. 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒕

summary: you thought you would be alone when sneaking into the school kitchen late at night - you were, until someone joined you. - based on this request.

warnings: smut, Hufflepuff reader, fingering, orgasm denial (once), dirty talk, protected p in v, cursing

words: 2,8k

It's almost 2am and I couldn't stop myself but sneak into the kitchen when my stomach literally screamed at me to eat. Well I couldn't take it personal, wasn't my best idea to ditch dinner to study.

And to be honest, it wasn't the first time also, sneaking into the kitchen because I ditched dinner and got hungry at night. Since I already knew my way to the school kitchen without getting caught, I grabbed the coat I borrowed from Harry yesterday and walked through the dark halls of school.

When I arrived I quickly got in and closed the doors behind me. I smiled to myself when I looked through the shelves and fridges. Jackpot, a cake. With some cookies from the cupboard and cake in other hand I walked over to the kitchen island and started eating the cookies. I quietly moaned at the taste, doing a little happy dance at the taste. „Damn these are good.“ I say to myself, then looking at the cake. It wasn’t much left but would definitely be enough for me. I took a piece and licked off the icing, when out of nowhere:

„Wow..“ I turned my head to the second voice with wide eyes, seeing four boys in front of me. I sighed in relief when I noticed who they are and had to hide a smile at their looks when they saw my outfit. I didn’t thought too much about it when I stayed in my underwear and a top. „Like what you see?“ I asked them, smug smirk on my face.

The only one who didn’t looked impressed was Draco, pushing through the boys and walking over next to me, taking a piece of the cake and shoving it into his mouth. „ My girlfriend’s hotter.“ He says with a full mouth, making me grin. „I know Draco, me and Pansy are friends.“ I always loved the way he stayed loyal to her, wishing to be in her shoes sometimes. But not to be with Draco, but to have someone who only has eyes for me like he does for her.

I then glance over to the other three boys, still staring at me. "I definitely like what I see." Mattheo comments with a grin to it. I notice Theo shoving his elbow into his rib before pushing past him and walking over to me. "How are you, principessa?" he asked, tilting his head a little to the side and stared down at me with his puppy brown eyes. God his eyes.

" 'm good, what about you?" I stated innocently then biting off a piece of the cake slice in my hand. He ignored my question, his hands finding their way to each side of me on the kitchen isle. He caged me in between his body and the isle, smirking a little when he see's the realization in my eyes.

That wasn't a new game between us. It's also not the first time that we met here or on the astronomy tower at night. But it was always coincidence.

"Haven't seen you in a while at the astronomy tower." he whispers to me, lowering his head a little. So he was hoping to see me? "What? Did you miss me?" "What If I did?" he asked.

I hadn't had an answer to that right away so I looked over his shoulder to Mattheo and Enzo, still staring at my choice of clothing. He follows my gaze and glares at both of them. "Get the fuck out." he growls at them in an annoyed tone to which they just smirked knowingly and grabbed Draco eating some pudding he had found.

While walking outside Mattheo said "Don't destroy the kitchen." Draco finished it with: "Oh and use protection, kids." he started laughing and walked out with Mattheo and Enzo, leaving silence behind them.

I glanced back up at Theo, who's eyes were already on me. "So, what If I missed you? Did you miss me too?" I ignored his question and turned around in his grip which meant my back was now pressed against his since he pushed against me. I grabbed a strawberry from the cake grinning when I turned back and bit off a piece, making sure my lips wrapped around it just right while my eyes hit his.

I could see his jaw clenching and the muscles in his arm moving when he grabbed the isle a little harder. "Why do you keep teasing me all the time hm? Am I just one of your little victims?"

I had to chuckle a little. It was a rumor about me – well, a rumor that was kind of true. It was about how I'm the biggest tease and would always choose a new boy to tease to no end but never doing anything about it. That's true. But the number's of boy's going around weren't. Theo's the third to be exact but this time it wasn't on propose. I just really liked teasing him and seeing him clenching his jaw or his eyes wandering over my body, my lips.

I shake my head slowly and hold the rest of the strawberry in front of his mouth. "You're not." He grins before biting into the strawberry, never losing eye contact with me. He chews and swallows it down before answering. "What am I then?"

'What am I then?' I wish I knew. It's complicated. And somehow not. We just met like I said by complete coincidence, sometimes we talked, sometimes we just sat there at the astronomy tower and enjoyed each other's company while he smoked and I read a book.

"I don't know Teddy, just know that I like your company." I answered honestly. I think I saw a little bit of relief in his eyes when I told him. "So you're not just teasing me?" I giggle a little and shrug with my shoulder's. "Oh I definitely do and I enjoy it but -" "But what?" he asks, looking at me intensely. I gulp and lick over my bottom lip, my cheeks suddenly getting a little red.

"Perhaps, you chose that outfit of your's on propose?" he asked cheekily. I rolled my eyes at him and shook my head. "I didn't thought you would come with friends. And I have Harry's cloak with me so no one would have seen me but you."

"So you did choose it with a purpose?" I put the stem in my hand away and tried not to blush again. "Yes." He pushed himself even closer to me now, his face now beside my ear. He whispered "And what were you hoping would happen, amore?" my heart always melted when he spoke Italian, his voice sounded so good while speaking his language, I could listen to him talking to me in it all day long.

I swallowed down all my pride and the rest of my shyness before I answered. "That you finally would get the hint, maybe. Or ask me out." he started grinning, giving my earshell a soft kiss. " Oh I'm getting the hint." Abruptly he grabbed my hips with both of his hands and sat me down on the kitchen isle, him now standing between my legs. "Do you know what you do to me?" he lowers his voice and lets go of my right to push back my hair so my shoulders were free. I shook my head, pretending to not know what he means.

"Don't act all shy now. I know you're not. I see the way you always look a me. Never thought a little Hufflepuff like you would be like that."

„Well, many underestimate us.“ I whispered, smirking. Then he lowers his head a bit more and puts a feathery light kiss on my shoulder, sending shivers down my spine. I stop breathing for a second and take a short glimpse of his angelic face. Even his light touch already set me on fire inside.

He continued when he noticed that I didn't push him away or stopped him in any kind of way. The next kiss is tender, not as light as the first one. The third one is longing. The fourth starts to get heated. "Theo.." I murmur, closing my eyes.

"Hm?" he muttered against my skin, covering it in kisses. "I want you." He stops and scans my face to make sure If I'm playing with him or If I'm being serious. I grab the cords of his sweatpants, pulling him closer. "I want you." I repeat, to make sure he got it.

Then out of no where, his lips crash against mine in a heated kiss with his lips so soft and full. I let my hand roam over his chest, grabbing the soft shirt in a desperate way. "I want you too." he breathed out against my lips when he pulled away from mine for a moment. I grabbed him by the neck and pulled him in again, smiling against his lips.

His hands found their way to my thighs, massaging them carefully while working their way up to my underwear. In the meantime my hands had already slid under his shirt, feeling his abs under my fingers.

One hand of his pushed me back so I laid down with my back on the kitchen isle. He grabbed my legs again and pulled my middle closer to his crotch until I could feel him hard through his pants.

I bit down on my lip when his hands slowly slid over my exposed stomach, up to my chest. I stare at him, nervous what he's going to do. "I've waited so fucking long for this." he growls, slowly pulling down my top. A smile formed on his lips when he saw I didn't wear a bra beneath it.

My nipples instantly got hard 'cause of the cold air. "Then why didn't you try anything sooner?" I asked. "Don't know.." His fingers slowly brushed over my nipples now, teasing them. ".. I enjoyed the tension between us. Didn't want to overstep too." he replied.

I chuckled at him and joked "Yeah right, fucking someone on a kitchen isle in school is not overstepping." "Who say's I'm gonna fuck you?" he teases, playing with my nipples now.

I gulped and glimpse up at him. "Theo please.." I buck my hips up, grinding against him. "Shit, you're already begging, principessa? Can't wait to see how wet you are." I quietly whimpered at his words, grinding harder against him to feel some kind of friction on my aching pussy.

He leans down and starts sucking on my nipple while he continued playing with the other with his fingers. His second hand slid down over my stomach again, leaving a warm feeling behind. It stopped at my panties, playing with it a little. "Please.. please touch me Teddy." He groaned at the nickname. It was something only I called him.

He dipped his fingers inside my underwear, feeling my wetness. "Fuck you're not wet you're fucking soaked. It's gonna be so easy to just.." he starts, his finger slipping over my clit at first and teasing it for a moment with brushing over it ever so slightly and then going further to my opening, slipping two fingers inside without a problem.

He groaned and rolled his eyes. "You feel so tight baby. Fuck you're gonna milk me dry.." I whined at his words and the feeling of him inside me. He started moving them in and out, pumping my pussy and rubbing my clit with his thumb.

I grabbed the edges of the isle and closed my eyes, back arching upwards. "Feels so good." I moaned, pressing my lips together trying to be quiet.

"Hmm that‘s right, just imagine how good my cock will feel." he responded with a smug look, moving his fingers inside me faster and putting more pressure on my clit. I took in a sharp breath, biting down on my lip hard.

I started clenching around him, feeling a fire pooling low in my abdonen but before I could let go he pulled his hand away from me, smiling at me devilish. "That‘s for all the teasing, baby."

He pulled down his sweatpants and boxershorts together, revealing his hard cock. I noticed the red tip already leaking pre cum. "You wanna get fucked amore?" he growls with his thick accent while grabbing his hard on and sliding the tip through my puffy folds.

"Theodore please, don‘t be a tease." I complained. He chuckles when he sees the desperate look in my eyes. "I‘m gonna fuck you so hard you never will think about someone else.“ he promised, pushing his cock into me with a single go until he was completely inside me.

"Oh cazzo.." he cursed and closed his eyes when he felt my walls sucking him right in. I felt him everywhere in me and I was sure I could see him in my stomach If I had the power to look down at me.

I heard him laughing quietly so I opened my eyes and looked at him questioning. "You‘re so tight I can‘t think straight." he chuckled and let out a deep breath before moving his hips after making sure I‘m ready.

I arched my back when his hips met mine and my mouth fell open letting out a silent scream. "Oh merda.. feel me in your stomach huh?" he grunts, throwing my legs over his shoulder.

I let out a high pitched moan at the new angle, feeling him so much deeper now. My nails found his arms, leaving marks on them. His hips moved faster against mine, he leaned down and took my lips into a heated kiss again. The kiss was fiercy and it felt like he was starving or needed me for air. I've never been kissed like that and I felt so alive after such a long time again.

"Fuck Theodore.." I whine against his lips, capturing them right after again. I feel him grinning against my lips and moving his hips more brutal against mine, squeezing my thigh with his hand while the other found its way around my neck. "You're mine, cara mia. Mine. Do you understand that?" he groans, letting go of my mouth.

I squeeze my eyes shut when he pushed down on my stomach." I said: Do thrust You thrust under thrust stand thrust me?" "Fuck yes Theo, yes!" "Say it!" I whimper and open my eyes again, giving him what he wanted. "I'm yours, only yours." he started smiling satisfied with my answer.

"That's right, baby. Only this cock will fill you up." He rocked his hips against mine in an unnatural pace, making me see stars and babbling some words.

"Such a little slut for me." he added. My legs slowly got tired, not used to the stretch. I gasped when he hit my cervix, a broken sob left my mouth. "Oh - right there. Please fuck me right there." It was like every brain cell left my head when I felt that fire in my abdomen again.

He slightly squeezed his hand around my throat, making my head feel dizzy only adding to the aching feeling inside me. "Beg me, fucking beg me to come around my cock... fuck." he lets out a moan when he feels my warm walls clenching around him so perfectly.

"Hmm please Theo please fuck me, please. I need to come so bad." I cried out, little sobs leaving my lips. He grins devilish and adds his thumb to my clit, moving it in circles.

Then again I have that rippling feeling in my abdomen, leaving me trembling beneath me. "Hm, come for me baby, fucking come around me, please." he groans in a desperate voice, feeling the need to feel me milking him like I did around his fingers earlier.

My orgasm hit me like an explosion would have. I didn't hear anything around me for a few seconds, my head dizzy and my mouth dry.

His hands find my hips and dug their fingernails into my flesh. I heard him cussing again, his thrusts getting sloppier and his head fell back. "Oh fucking hell I'm gonna come - should I - should I pull out?" I shook my head with a little smirk."I'm using-" "Thank Merlin - ugh fuck." I hear him gasping for air when he ruts his hips against mine, holding still when he shoots his load inside me. His fucked out state turned me on again in an instant. Nothing better than a vocal man.

When he slowly comes down from his high, he grabs my face and kisses me messy but lovingly. "You felt so fucking good." he groans against my lips, slowly pulling out. I let out a quiet whimper at the emptiness I felt again. I looked up at him a smirked. "What?" he asked me when he saw my smirk. "That's it?" I asked him daring, knowing it would provoke him.

He chuckles darkly at me and turned my on my stomach in an instant. "I'm gonna fuck you the whole night, until all the cooks come into the kitchen for breakfast and they see you begging for my cock."

Fuck yeah.

Thank u got reading, hope you enjoyed. 💛 Not my best smut to be honest whoops.

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xoxo sarah <3