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adidastain · 11 months ago

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down the hatch

90s matt stone x fem reader

warnings: oral sex (M receiving), alcohol use, nausea

notes: first person perspective (I, me, my, etc.)

word count: 3564

—

“Matt.”

My voice carried softly as I approached my roommate in our dimly lit kitchen. The hour was late and what a night it was for him.

“I know you’re upset. C’mon,” I continued, opening my arms. I was in my pajamas, having stayed up late to watch the Oscars ceremony and see my best friend’s best friend lose the award to Phil Collins for Tarzan. Matt had gone to a party afterward to come down from the acid he’d been on all night and was still in his wine-red dress shirt, the buttons halfway undone.

“I’m not upset,” he said calmly. His gaze remained fixed on the shot of tequila he was pouring for himself. The lack of eye contact was a dead giveaway.

“You are,” I insisted. I didn’t like seeing him upset. In a way, I was afraid of it; sure he always had an attitude, but when Matt was really upset about something, he’d rain ash and sulfur on whoever or whatever it was that upset him. “C’mere.”

I tugged on the sleeve of his silky-soft shirt, pulling him towards me. Matt exhaled heavily, setting the bottle down and turning his broad body to face me, and he let me wrap my arms around his neck. I buried my face into his neck, his skin soft and warm. His curly hair tickled my nose as I moved.

Matt was always kind of weird about hugs. It took him a few seconds before he actually hugged me back, wrapping his arms tightly around my waist and holding me close. There was no doubt that he was exhausted.

“I know you both worked really hard,” I whispered. I wasn’t exactly sure what to say; I always sucked when it came to words.

“Mm,” Matt hummed unresponsively.

I leaned back so I could look him in the eyes.

“You may not have won the Oscar, but you did win my heart,” I said dramatically. I batted my eyelashes at him, watching as he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Shut up,” he said, letting go of me. He was grinning, shaking his head as he turned away to pour his tequila down the hatch.

As he swallowed, I carefully removed the small glass from his grasp, setting it down on the counter behind me. Matt cringed at the taste of the tequila, shaking his head.

I had to admit, he looked absolutely divine. His shirt was a gorgeous, deep red color that fit him absolutely perfectly. His broad chest and biceps practically bulged out of the silky fabric. The blazer he’d been wearing earlier in the night had been since discarded on the counter, alongside a small duffel bag containing the infamous pink dress he’d sported in the afternoon. Which, I have to say, looked just as amazing on him.

My hands snaked around his waist, hugging him again.

“Seriously, though. You know you can tell me anything,” I said, looking up at him. He didn’t hug me back, simply continuing to put the bottle of tequila back in the refrigerator next to us.

“I know. And I told you,” he sighed, looking down at me with tired, half-lidded eyes. “I’m not upset.”

“Anything you need, Matt,” I ignored him. “I’m always here for you.”

He chuckled slightly, taking a step back as he slid out of my arms. I looked at him with puppy eyes, carefully watching his body and muscles shift and flex each time he moved.

“Anything, huh?” he repeated, crossing his arms. This only made his chest and biceps look bigger and more muscular.

I nodded. “Anything,” I confirmed.

Matt raised his eyebrows and smirked, looking all around the room except at me. “Even…” he said, trailing off to let my mind fill in the blanks. He nodded downward to gesture to his crotch.

“You’re disgusting,” I rolled my eyes. Though, to be completely honest, I didn’t think it was the worst idea he could have had…

Once, many, many moons ago, after several rounds of drinks, I remember getting fingered by Matt in the back of a limo. I don’t remember where we were or why we were in a limo exactly, but we were definitely both completely drunk and undoubtedly sexually frustrated. We never brought it up to each other though. I just assumed it was a dream for a little while, until we received a letter from the limousine service stating that we wouldn’t be allowed to book from them again.

“But sure. Only for you,” I continued.

Matt’s head practically snapped up to attention, looking at me with shock as the color drained from his face. “What?”

“I’ll give you head. If that’s what you want,” I said, shrugging. I turned around so that my ass was facing him and he couldn’t see how flushed my cheeks were becoming.

“I was just joking,” he laughed, swallowing harshly.

“No you weren’t,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. I poured myself a glass of water, turning back around to face him again. His jaw was tense, one hand rubbing the back of his neck while the other sat at his side. “You? Joking about getting head? Not a chance.”

I took a sip of water, not-so-accidentally letting it spill onto my chin and neck. Matt’s eyes were fixed on my now soaking wet collarbone. I watched his throat shift beneath his skin as he swallowed harshly.

“You really… You’d do it?” he asked.

“Do what?” I responded. Play dumb.

“Suck me off?”

“Oh. Mhm,” I smiled. “If it’ll make you feel better.”

Matt chuckled, looking down at his hands. I took another sip of water, wiping my mouth on the back of my wrist.

“Go sit down,” I told him, topping off the glass with more water. Matt did as I said, hesitant at first. However, it didn’t take long for him to somewhat frantically scramble to get his ass onto the sofa before I could follow him.

I thought about getting to put his hot, throbbing, aching length into my mouth and taking it down my throat. Using my tongue to pay extra attention to little spots along his shaft in order to earn soft sounds of pleasure from deep inside him. My hands roaming every inch of his body, feeling his muscles flex under my touch. I wanted nothing more than to make him feel like no one else has ever made him feel.

My eyes rolled back in my head slightly as I pictured his hand tangled in my hair, pushing my head down further along his length while his tip bruised the back of my throat.

“Are you coming?” he said. I think he was trying to sound irritated, but was too nervous to pull it off.

With that, I joined him in the living room, anxious to see him sprawled out and ready on our sofa. And he was; he had his arms resting up on the back of the couch, all cocky, with his legs spread and his body slouching. Dickhead.

He was, without a doubt, pitching a sizable tent beneath those snug black pants of his. The reality of what I was about to do to my best friend hit me like a train. Sure, we’d messed around before, like I said. But this was different. We were sober. I was sober, at least.

The entire house was silent, so much so that my ears were practically ringing. It was dark except for the light in the kitchen, which shone from behind, giving his crown of curls a glowing halo. He looked up at me, his chest rising and falling rapidly as I positioned myself to lean over him.

A breathy, soft groan left his lips as I carefully placed my knee on his crotch, applying the smallest amount of pressure so as to not hurt him. Not long after, I kissed him, one of my hands digging into the couch cushions behind him to prop myself up. I kept my kiss gentle, almost ghostlike, barely touching his lips at all.

Matt looked to be in shambles as I backed away from him again, sinking down onto my knees in front of the sofa. He stared at me, looking both tense and nervous, while also completely dumbfounded and almost awestruck.

“Hurry up and take your belt off, douchey. I’m tired,” I teased him, running my hands over his clothed thighs.

Matt scoffed and rolled his eyes, raising his hips so he could start undoing his belt, freeing his hips from the snug confines of the leather strap. He set it off to the side and shimmied out of his dress pants, which pooled down to his ankles, rendering him bare-legged in a skimpy pair of boxers.

I didn’t waste much more time before trailing wet kisses up the inside of his thigh, massaging the other with my hand. I pulled his boxers down, slowly, running my fingers along the waistband until they sat at his ankles atop his discarded dress pants. There, standing tall and dripping with impatience, was the real star of the show.

I swallowed. It wasn’t so much the length I was concerned about as far as size went, but the sheer girth and thickness of his cock. My hand wrapped around the base of it and my fingertips were nowhere near touching my thumb.

“You okay?” Matt asked me, his tone low and cold. I could see concern in his face, however.

I nodded, adjusting my position and pulling all of my hair to rest on one shoulder. Matt reached down to tuck one stray strand behind my ear, gently running his thumb along my cheek in the process.

My eyes veered away from his, shame bubbling up inside me. Maybe not shame so much as humiliation. I took a moment to build up the spit in my mouth, feeling shy under his gaze.

“Don’t look at me,” I mumbled with a mouthful of spit. Matt chuckled softly, letting his head rest on the back of the couch. I stared at his neck and throat as he swallowed and ran a hand through his hair.

I leaned over his cock and let a dribble of spit fall from my lips, before subsequently beginning to place soft kisses all over his tip, the skin smooth and warm. I held the base of his length with one hand, using the other to massage his thigh. Matt’s body shivered slightly as I trailed kisses up and down his shaft.

I looked up at him one last time. His bottom lip was trapped under his teeth, eyebrows furrowed, hands gripping the back of the sofa. I’d barely even started and he was already struggling. Must’ve been a while for him.

From then on, my kisses were wet, sloppy and open-mouthed. Up until I flattened my tongue and the tip of his cock slid into my mouth.

Matt sharply gasped through his nose, his body shuddering from the shock. He moaned softly with his mouth closed and I felt his hand caress the back of my head, fingers running through my hair as he grabbed a fistful of it.

“Mmn… Good,” he exhaled. I opened my eyes to look up at him, seeing his face and body scrunched up and tense. Matt adjusted his position, and now the top of my head was grazing his stomach as I moved up and down.

The sounds he made, combined with the feeling of his warm flesh moving in and out of my sore mouth had me subconsciously squeezing my thighs together. I slipped my free hand underneath my shorts in order to start rubbing slow circles into my clit, before taking a deep breath and lowering my head, letting his cock slide into my throat.

“Oh fuck,” he whined, pushing my head down further. His body crashed into the back of the couch, his back arching and thighs beginning to squeeze my head. “Fuck me, I needed this so bad…”

I let out an exaggerated moan for the sake of giving him a little bit of vibrational stimulation. It wasn’t entirely fake though.

“Yeah?” he panted. Matt chucked slightly. “I bet you like that… good girl…”

I rolled my eyes and pulled off of him, removing my hand from inside my pants. “I’m never letting you live that down,” I said.

“Shut up,” he said lightheartedly. Matt gripped my hair more harshly, almost forcing his cock back into my mouth without warning.

My gag reflex immediately pushed back and my eyes started watering. I winced slightly, pinching the skin of his thigh hard.

“Ow!” he hissed. I looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows, wiping the tears away from my eyes. “Sorry,” he said softly.

“So mean,” I mumbled with his cock in my mouth. Matt scratched my scalp a little, making a small effort to soothe my discomfort.

“I was close,” he told me, before I started moving again. He took a moment to gently brush all of my hair out of my face and wipe the tears from my eyes. I loved when he’d let his soft side out. That’s how I knew he wasn’t really upset anymore.

A few minutes went by, most of which I spent teasing him. Swirling my tongue around his tip over and over, hesitant to take him down my throat again out of anxiety. I’d had many catastrophic experiences giving head before. Now that I’d gagged already, I really wasn’t trying to let that happen again.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked me amidst rapid, heaving breaths.

I nodded, humming into his cock. Matt stroked the back of my scalp and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he said, swallowing harshly.

I shook my head, looking up at him. He was looking down at me, with a loving, yet lust-filled gaze.

Seeing his face flushed a scarlet pink color, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and feeling his hand tangled in my hair gave me a little more confidence. I took a deep breath, exhaling as I let his cock slide into my throat once again.

A deep, guttural moan left his body as his tip pressed against the back of my throat. His back arched and he hissed as I began sucking slightly with each movement. I let one of my hands travel up underneath his shirt so I could feel the muscles in his stomach tighten every other second. His fingers dug deeper into the back of my head, pushing me further and further down.

“Y/N…” he moaned quietly. My stomach flipped and my immediate response was to laugh. Matt laughed slightly as well, until it quickly faded and he was back to grunting and whimpering.

“Mmn… perfect,” he hummed, almost as if he were growling, his voice so deep. “I’m so close…”

I let out a small, slightly higher-pitched moan as I adjusted my neck to take him deeper down my throat. It didn’t take long for him to start squeezing my head between his thighs while his hips bucked upward into my face, fucking my mouth. Part of me really wished he was fucking me for real.

Suddenly, I gagged again, but didn’t let go. He was close and I, very selfishly, was dying to feel his hot cum shoot down my throat.

“Keep going,” he whimpered, relaxing the grip he held on my head. I felt tears welling in my eyes as I opened them to look up at him. He was looking down at me, face flushed, temples glistening with sweat, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed in desperation. He looked absolutely pitiful.

I paused for a moment to force the tears out from between my eyelids, trying my hardest to avoid triggering the reflex again. I must’ve been subconsciously holding my breath for a minute or two, because I was practically gasping for air through my nostrils.

That was my least favorite part about giving head. But in the end, it was all worth it.

I kept bobbing my head, moaning slightly each time I felt his tip press into the back of my throat. I was getting pretty sore at this point, but he was right; he was definitely close to the edge. Only a few more seconds and he’d be done for.

I shifted slightly in order to caress his balls, but before I could even take them in my hand, Matt’s entire body tensed up. His soft, strangled moans echoed through the entire house as his hips shuddered and trembled, until I felt the hot sensation of his cum hitting the back of my throat and dripping downward. After a second or two, Matt’s hand slid off my head to rest at his side.

“Fuck,” he exhaled, panting. He let out another whine or two as I carefully pulled away from him, swallowing what was in my throat. My tongue ran over his tip as his cock slid out of my mouth, coating the muscle in the last few strings of his cum. It was warm and my eyes practically rolled back in my head as I tasted it. Once I was off of him, I sort of collapsed, letting my head fall and crash into his knee, and I started to cry.

I swallowed again, and I became aware of a dry, aching feeling in my throat. My neck was stiff and my head started pounding. I pressed my face against his leg, trying to suppress the discomfort and nausea.

Matt took a few seconds to catch his breath and give me small praises like, “That was incredible,” and “I really needed that.” I responded with nothing but a small laugh. Then he pulled his boxers back up, and noticed me crying.

“Y/N,” he squeaked, his own voice slightly dry and raspy. I looked up at him, still drawing deep breaths in and out through my nose. He pulled his boxers on and grabbed my hands to help me up onto the couch.

“Are you okay?” he asked, giggling softly. I nodded, no words coming to mind.

Matt swallowed and wiped a tear away from my cheek. “You look really pale,” he whispered, furrowing his eyebrows.

Again, I nodded, closing my eyes and letting my forehead rest against his. “Just need a minute,” I said, barely whispering.

He tucked my hair behind my ear and pushed it behind my shoulders, running his fingers through all the knots he might have made from balling his fist into it several times. It felt nice.

His lips softly grazed against mine, creating a small clicking sound when he pulled away. I let out a heavy exhale and looked at him, exhaustion ever present in both my body and my mind. Matt pulled me closer, whispering in my ear.

“I’m not upset anymore,” he said, smiling. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“It’s okay,” I whispered, burying my face into his neck. “I’m okay.”

“Do you want some water?” he asked me, taking my hand in his.

“I’ll get it in a sec,” I sighed, swallowing. “I still feel nauseous.”

“Okay,” he breathed. “I’m sorry.”

“Say ‘I’m sorry’ one more time,” I laughed dryly. Matt chuckled, kissing my neck while carefully intertwining his soft fingers with mine.

We sat for another minute or two and I was eventually able to get up and get some water. The lateness of the hour hit me hard once I came back from my fatigued, post-head state. Matt was practically merciless when it came to the aftercare, asking to do all these things like massage my neck and play with my hair. It was endearing, but I couldn’t tell if he was doing it to make me feel better or to keep his mind off of the stupid Oscars. Both were very likely.

Matt didn’t bother to shower or anything, quickly changing into a large tee and a clean pair of boxers for bed. He lingered in the bathroom doorway, watching me move like a sloth as I brushed my teeth and washed my face.

“Can I help you?” I asked with a mouthful of toothpaste. My eyes made contact with the reflection of his through the mirror and he smiled at my teasing.

He took a few steps closer to me as I spat out the toothpaste, wiping my mouth on the back of my wrist. Before I could even turn to face him, he placed his warm hands on either side of my waist and kissed me deeply.

My first response was to push back slightly, but the kiss was so warm that I couldn’t even protest and immediately melted into him, my hands pressed against his torso. I got the most intense chills; my heart was beating so fast that I was worried I’d faint right there in his arms.

“Mm. Minty,” he hummed with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. I rolled my eyes and pushed his body away from me.

“Give a man head one time, and suddenly he wants to be your boyfriend,” I sighed.

“Oh, I’ve always wanted to be your boyfriend,” he grinned, making himself comfortable with his arms wrapped around my waist from behind, beginning to place soft kisses along my neck. “The head was just a bonus.”

I rolled my eyes again, unable to smother the grin that was overtaking my face. “Typical.”

#i cooked #possibly my best smut #banger #matt stone #baseketball #fanfiction #fluff #x reader #cannibal the musical #fem reader #mattrey #smut #matt stone x reader #trey parker #angst

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h3ll0k1ttyl0v3rrr · 30 days ago

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Hey guys, this is my first post on here so allow me to introduce myself!!

My name is Dallas, I go by he/him pronouns and I’m obsessed with Metallica!

Writing has been a huge hobby of mine for years and instead of coming up with my own ideas and writing them down for no one to see, I decided to come on here so people can send requests for me to write!!

Like I said, I’m obsessed with Metallica and I mainly write for them most of the time.

I’m comfortable writing any Metallica ship basically, which would include:

James x Cliff (HUGE fan of them)

Kirk x Lars

Jason x James

Cliff x Kirk

Kirk x James

Dave x James

I’m not a big fan of the following pairings:

Jason x Lars

Cliff x Lars

Anything with Robert or Ron (sorry!!)

I’ll also write for Alice in Chains. I’ll write almost anything from the grunge era, like Soundgarden, Pearl jam, etc. But I’m unfortunately not a fan of writing for Nirvana.

I will not write x reader, sorry if that’s a let down!

I will write smut!! That’s one of the main things I write to be honest, along with fluff and comfort/hurt.

I’m open to any kind of kinks and fetishes, and there are very few things that cross my boundaries. If you’re curious about if I would write about a certain kink or fetish, don’t be afraid to ask me. No kink shaming here!! (UNLESS it’s scat, feet or vomit, sorry!)

I’ll be looking forward to some requests!!

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altrodent · 2 years ago

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Kiss me on my mouth!

Pairing: Joe ‘Coop’ Cooper x Reader

Genre/Warnings: First kiss trope, friends/teammates to lovers, a tiny bit spicy, fluff, lots of flirting friendly tension 💕✨

Summary: After planning the perfect psyche out for your next Baseketball game, you need to figure out how to not waste your first kiss with Squeak Scolari.

“Shit!” You stop for a second, once you’re fully changed you only have 10 minutes until you have to run out to the benches with the rest of the team. The problem? You had planned the perfect game winning psyche out but, it would involve you kissing Squeak Scolari. Now, you don’t mind Squeak, he’s cute and he looks funny when he’s pissed off but, you’ve never kissed anyone before. Now you are honestly too far gone for a high-school based dream to really matter, though to you it still does. You walk around the locker room trying to find someone- scratch that anyone who you’d actually want to kiss.

You frantically walk around until someone grabs your arm “Hey, are you okay?” You turn to see your forever crush, Joe Cooper. Yes, maybe you grew too attached to Coop when you met him, but can you blame yourself? He’s cute, funny and god, his smile makes your heart melt. “Coop! Yeah, I’m okay, I have a uh- a favor to ask?” Smooth. “oh, sure, what’s up?” You inhale deeply “So I have a sick psyche out planned, and without giving too much detail I uhm…” This is a lot harder than you thought it’d be. “Yeah, what is it?” You exhale “I’veneverkissedanyonebeforebutIcan’tletmyfirstkissbewithsomeoneIdontwantittobeifthatmakessense?” He stands there blinking “…What?” You groan and rub your eyes with your palms “Coop, I need you to kiss me on my mouth!”

His eyes widen as you cover your mouth. You said that way to loudly, everyone is looking at you. You smile awkwardly before coop slides an arm around your lower back and guides you to the cleaner, empty part of the locker room. “Coop, I’m so sorry, just please let me explain-“ you were about to ramble again, and as much as you hate it, he’s growing tired of just looking at your lips. With very little hesitation he cups your face in his hands and presses his lips against yours. Your eyes shoot open in shock, before you let out an approving hum. You relax into the kiss as your hands make their way to his chest, just as his right hand lowers to your neck. Before you know it he pulls away, “God, I’ve waited way to damn long to do that.” He purses his lips as his eyes travel across your face to see how you feel. Instead of replying, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him into a tight embrace. “Thanks coop.”

He looks deeply into your eyes and before he has another chance to steal one last kiss- “Ew dudes, we’re going out hurry up or I’m telling the rest of the team!” Remer groans as Coop rolls his eyes “Maybe later?” He smiles at me, god his smile… “I’d like that.” You shake his hair before jogging out. Sure you have to kiss Squeak Scolari… but you’re winning right now, so it doesn’t matter.

(A/N): Sorry I’ve been writing a lot of smaller stories recently but I’ve found that they do better. If you would like a series or reader insert I’d always be up for it, to help my inner child find peace 😌

Word count: 550

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aishnico · 1 year ago

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#𝙀𝘿𝘿𝙄𝙀 𝙑𝙀𝘿𝘿𝙀𝙍: 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 (𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝟮)

» summary: you were an architect in seattle, and one of the things kept you sane was your rockstar friends. one day, they found a new singer to their new band and you went to listen to them.

» word count: 2.4k

» warnings: fluff, some angst, grammar issues

» inspired by sarah jio’s always novel.

» part 1

— october, 1990

"fuck, fuck, fuck... fuck!" you yelled at yourself when the file you've been working for 7 hours closed without saving it. you didn't forget to save it, your computer just froze for a couple of minutes. you were waiting patiently, but suddenly, your computer shut down.

you suddenly heard someone knocking on the wall. "hey! can't you be quiet?" it was your next-door neighbor stone. you sighed and grabbed your things, wore a coat and left the home. he heard that you were leaving and he opened to door.

"hey, sorry for yelling. is everything alright?" he asked gently.

"no, my project's gone forever. i have to start from the beginning. and my ass hurts from sitting straight. guess i'm going out for a walk now."

"hey, stop by on the way home, and bring some snacks!" you heard jeff's excited voice and you couldn't help but chuckle.

"damn, you really need a new computer." he said playfully.

"yeah, you don't need to remind me." you rolled your eyes and waved at him then left the building. it wasn't raining to your surprise, but the weather still was cold. you moved here 6 years ago but still couldn't get used to the atmosphere of the city. you missed hot california days.

you were walking with heavy steps. thinking about which excuse you should try on your boss tomorrow. you weren't like this. you were actually pretty punctual and disciplined at your work. but your ancient computer started to make things worse for you. and your current goal was buying a new computer.

you entered a market and bought some snacks for you and the boys. after about 25 minutes you were in front of their door. your cheeks were red as tomato. stone would sure make fun of it while jeff would say you look cute. and that's what happened.

"cut it out, stone. i went for forgetting about my problems but you yourself creating a problem for me" you said playfully while lying on their couch.

"did you go for finding excuses for your boss but realized that you used them all on him?" he smirked at you. damn, he really knew you well.

he was the first person you met in the city. you would just say good morning and good night when you encountered. it was until you were coming home with a large cardboard for your project. he was behind you and it fell on him accidently. you apologized continuously but he offered to help you with your project instead. that's how you became close.

one day a band named green river asked him to play guitar at their band. and that's how you met with jeff after. after two years he established a band called mother love bone. they were amazing and sure they had a huge impact on the grunge scene. everything was great until a couple of months ago, until andy's death. it hit all of you pretty hard, especially chris and love bone guys. you all knew that he was addicted but none of you saw it coming.

it took a while to guys recover. stone and jeff got into music again. they got together with stone's friend from high school, mike and matt from soundgarden. but matt couldn't fully commit to this new band due to playing with his band. after the audition, the guys asked to dave play with them. he agreed and they were looking for a singer now. all the guys who auditioned tried to sound like andy, but nobody could sound like him and they were looking for something unique.

you three were chilling and watching some TV currently. it helped you forget about your problems a little, it was until mike came with a tape.

"i have good news for you!" he cheered after jeff opened the door for him. "what is it?" stone asked mike.

"so i talked with jack, and he gave our demo to his friend, eddie. and he wrote lyrics for three songs. i got excited and listened to it alone and i'm telling you, we have to hire that guy!"

"woah woah, slow down there. let us listen to it first. hey, what time is it by the way?" stone asked.

"it's almost 6 pm" jeff answered and you gasped. "oh my, i won't make it through..." you whined. "what is it?" mike asked.

"i was working on my new project and my computer suddenly shut down, i'm so done with it but i have no choice but to continue with it." you answered.

"jeez, why don't you ask to borrow ours? the program you use is already on the computer. and i'm pretty sure ours's better than yours." stone suggested with sass. you rolled your eyes at him and watched him give you his computer and charger of it. "thanks, i'll return it in the early morning. bye, y'all!" you went to the door but mike called you from behind.

"wait, aren't you gonna listen to him?" showing the tape, you shook your head and gave an apologetic smile to them. "i already lost so much time, and i'm willing more to listen to him on live. it's like a surprise to me, yeah?"

after leaving their apartment you entered yours and got to work again.

after minutes, you swore you heard a familiar voice from the walls. "it must be their new singer..." you wandered to yourself.

a couple of weeks passed and this night, they were gonna play their first show with eddie. you wondered how he looked and sounded like. you loved making little surprises for yourself. you needed them for not to drown in this city.

after another exhausting day, you went to your home and took a quick shower then got ready for their show and left. when you were at the place, you saw soundgarden guys and went next to them. matt was smiling at you. "he has a great voice, don't you think so?" he asked. you shrugged, "i've never listened him, i refused. that's gonna be a surprise for me, you know?" he rolled his eyes at you playfully. then the show started. and oh,

oh...

that sure was a surprise to you, a big surprise.

you totally weren't expecting to see the love of your life on the stage. you recognized him immediately. your heart clenched watching him. he was looking gorgeous like he used to look 6 years ago. and his baritone voice... you remembered how he would play songs on an acoustic guitar and sing to you with his unique voice.

you missed him, you missed him so much. you couldn't get him out of your head, you didn't want to. you wanted everything to stay inside your head. you suddenly wondered if he was still remembering you. maybe he thought that he meant nothing to you so he got you out of his head. you hoped he didn't. but you didn't know how to face him. you knew you had to, he was in your friends' band now, after all.

your eyes met suddenly. your heart was beating like crazy. and you felt that your palms were sweating. he then looked away. you lowered your head.

did he remember you or he was just mad at you? you couldn't help but caress your locket. he was probably mad and found someone else.

when their show ended, you were smiling at them and clapping loudly like everyone else. they all were looking compatible together. you were happy for stone and jeff, and you knew they were going to be an impactful band.

instead of going backstage, you went outside. you could meet eddie tomorrow or another day. you just wanted to calm your clenching heart.

so you went to the exit without attracting attention. but when you looked at the stage for the last time, you saw eddie looking at you. you gulped and went outside.

after about twenty minutes, you were ready to go home, take a hot shower, wear your comfy pyjamas, and then sleep. but your plans fell through when you saw stone was dragging eddie to where you were standing.

"[name], this is our new singer, eddie." he turned his face to him. "and eddie, this is my next-door neighbor, [name]. but i suppose you already know each other. time to break the ice between you two!" he then left you two alone.

he knew, he god damn knew that eddie was your ex (you didn't know honestly what you two are). you would show him your photos with him and cry on his shoulder and telling him how much you missed him. of course he knew he was your ex when he first time saw him live. he probably wanted you two to meet again and break the ice.

"you were amazing at there." you started the conversation. he answered with a simple thanks. and you two went silent. an uncomfortable one.

"how did you find seattle?"

"not good, i guess. i used to live in sunny weather. i already missed old, hot, california days."

you smiled to yourself. "yeah, and i miss old chicago days." when you mentioned chicago, his face got serious. maybe because he had bad memories from there. the memories he wishes he could forget about.

"i don't care about chicago anymore." you were kinda hurt by his words but what could you say?

"eddie..."

"don't, don't start." he shut his eyes. your face dropped at his move. "look, you're just a great friend of my friends. that's what you are to me, nothing more." he coldly said and he turned his direction at the door.

"you don't even wanna listen the story from my point of view and that's not even fair!" you suddenly yelled at him. and made him look at you.

"after our first date, i thought i gave you my number. but instead, i actually gave you my house's number. and guess what? my family moved to michigan after i started college, and of course, they changed their number. i always wondered why you weren't calling me. i got furious and hurt. but then i realized that i gave you the wrong number.

after i finished the second semester, the first thing i've done was go to chicago and look for you. i asked some surfer guys about you, i asked musicians at the various bars, i looked for you. and finally learned that you went to south california not much after i left. i felt hopeless, but i never stopped loving you eddie, never. i don't know if it's even possible but i fell in love with you more."

you showed your locket and carefully opened inside. and his facial expression got soft when he saw the green seashell he gifted to you. "i never got you out of my head, i never got you out of my neck too." you then closed it and looked at him again. "i love you eddie, i've never stopped."

you saw his eyes watered and he just pressed his lips hard against each other. "i thought, i thought i was your little toy."

you shaked your head and smiled at him. "like i said, you're more than a summer love to me." he looked at you. you could see regret from things he told you just now and longing. oh how much he wanted to hold you tightly and cry on your shoulder.

so he did, and you hugged him back. he was mumbling "i'm sorry, you know i actually care about chicago. it's the place we met after all. and you know you're more than a friend's friend to me. i love you, i never stopped loving you either. i thought you lied to me. i was furious but still continued to love you. i couldn't help it. i love you so much."

you were caressing his back gently. after he calmed down, you connected your foreheads. "i'm here and you're here from now on. we're here together." you whispered. he smiled, "and we will make new good memories together here." he responded. you rolled your eyes playfully. "this city isn't the best, but i believe we can make everything look good."

he nodded and looked at your lips. he wanted to kiss you so bad. but before you let him do so, you connected your lips instead. the kiss was full of longing and love.

after a couple of seconds, you heard someone's whistle at the back. when you two faced them they were clapping. of course, they were your friends. "don't you have to do something better?!" you yelled at them irritated.

"let's go inside." he smiled at you and intertwined your hands together.

— 2005

"so that's how me and daddy started dating again." you finished your story. your daughter's eyes got watered and you looked at her worriedly. "baby, what's wrong?" you quickly wiped her tears away.

"i-i'm just thinking *sob* what if daddy never actually recorded those demos? what if uncle stone never hired him? *sob* what would happen?"

"oh baby," you stood up from your chair and let her hug you from behind. not wanting to hurt her little brother, andy. you caressed her hair and kneeled carefully for planting a kiss on her forehead.

"we would find each other, no matter when. i promise, we're destined to be together forever. and you're destined to be our firstborn. i promise nothing would change."

you then heard someone opening the door. it was your husband. he put the groceries down and looked at you. "I'm home!" he cheered. your daughter ran to him quickly and wrapped her arms around his legs. he then kneeled to hold her up.

"what's wrong, princess?" he asked worriedly and then looked at you. you just smiled and went next to him, lying your head on his shoulder. his one arm was holding your daughter while his other hand was wrapped around your waist.

"i-i just love you so much, daddy. i love mommy so much too. i'm happy that i was born as your daughter." he laughed and kissed her cheek. "we love you so much too, princess. and don't ever think that we're gonna love andy more. we'll love you both equally. and our love for you two will never change."

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90sintruder · 1 year ago

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No title - Orgazmo fanfic

Summary: Joe is just stressed, dude. Luckily, Dave's there to cheer him up.

No pairing, but Dave is really fucking gay for Joe X3.

Swearing, mentions of NSFW (obvi), nothing smutty happens tho

Short fic- 1007 word count

Joe felt like his head was spinning, he wasn't sure whether it was anger or nervousness. Most of his scenes had never been like this before. "Mr. Orbison, I can't do this!" Joe said as he looked up from his script. "Sure you can, Hung," Orbison waved a dismissal hand as he continued to write notes at his desk. "No I mean," Joe cleared his throat and stood from the chair opposite the sleazy man, "I won't do this! This is blasphemous!" Joe felt his hands shake as he gripped the pages. Joe couldn't even believe that Mr. Orbison would make him do something that would portray any biblical event in such an obscene way made his face hot with anger. Orbison looked up from his notebook with a quirk to his brow that made Joe swallow down his fear, "Oh really? You won't?" He gave a loud laugh before slamming his fist against the heavy wood desk, "You're under contract, boy! It's one scene and I own you until it's done!"

Joe's hands were bound to a bed as his new nemesis, a demon of sorts poorly acted his lines. He silently prayed to himself and hoped that they wouldn't have to do more than one take but he knew that wasn't going to happen.

He had been in this position for some time but had completely zoned out of the situation until he was actually doing something, but that something made his cheeks redden as Saffi touched his, his-

"Stunt cock!"

Dave yelled as they cut and startled Joe. Dave took a picture of Saffi who was not completely exposed on top of Joe as she untied him, Joe could see the technician looking down at his nether regions, a look that he didn't quite understand, most everything painfully in sight by the tight pink suit he was wearing. Saffi patted Joe's leg and smiled up at him, "Good work today, Joe."

Joe let out a choked noise that had shame rip through him. He quickly stood up and ran to his dressing room, nearly knocking over a light that was on the set.

He needed to calm his nerves- he needed to pray. Just the thought of prayer was relaxing. He kept asking why he kept doing this to himself, but he knew why: Lisa. Every time he called her she was so excited for him and, well, he loved hearing her so happy for him. At the same time, she had no clue what he was doing. He felt that feeling he had the day before, the churn and heat suddenly rising in him. He leaned against the wall of his dressing room as he searched for his book in the pocket of the jacket he had been wearing before changing into his costume "Oh heavenly father, what should I do?" His voice waivered as he felt his eyes well with tears.

The curtain of the dressing room opened suddenly, "Hey, Orgazmo!" Dave smiled wide and held Joe's small book in his hand, "I found your, uh," Dave examined the book and furrowed a brow as he continued, "Your bible, man!"

Joe blinked and tried to shoo all those pesky negative feelings away. He turned a smile on and grabbed the book, "Thank you, Dave."

Dave pursed his lips and gave a short nod, "Sure, sure, no problem!"

Dave stood there for a moment and studied Joe again, "You doing okay, Orgazmo" He said quietly and raised a curious brow, "If you gotta talk, I got your back, man."

Joe straightened his back and stood form the wall, "Oh no, I'm okay really, but thank you!" The doubtful look Dave gave was a little eery. The mood had shifted between the two, they both knew Joe was obviously lying…

He looked down at himself, the ridiculous pink costume still on. He was lying. He was committing sin after sin. He let out a frustrated sigh, "I'm just committing an act of sin just being here…" Dave stepped in further and closed the curtain. Joe explained why he was here, he let all of his emotions out; every feeling of doubt, guilt, and frustration oozing out in every word. And Dave listened. In earnest too, something that came as a shock to Joe, Dave was not quiet. Quite the opposite, he always interrupted scenes with an outburst of energy, but now he just stood quietly and watched Joe with soft eyes and pursed lips.

After everything he had to say was said, Dave let out a soft "Woah." He fidgeted with his camera before taking it off from around his neck, "That's pretty deep, dude." Joe let his finger slide against the pages of the holy book. It's pages made him feel safe to tell these things, like he was being guided. It did feel nice to tell someone everything that he was feeling. It was like a heavy plate lifted off of his chest.

"You know what," Dave put his hand on Joe's shoulder, "You're a pretty sweet dude, Orgazmo, and if you think you're going to hell just for trying to do what's best for you and your girl, well then, man, there's no luck for the rest of us." Dave gave him that enthusiastic wide-eyed stare Joe was used to.

"Hung!" Orbison called through the megaphone from the other room.

Dave patted Joe's shoulder firmly before putting his camera back around his neck and screwing up his lips, "Now take your fine ass out there!" Dave yelled and pushed Joe out of the dressing room. Joe was a bit stunned still from the conversation that just occurred. He walked lighter now, it was actually a helpful realization. Maybe he wasn't a bad Mormon. Maybe the heavenly father chose this path for him. Joe dropped his book on the couch and adjusted his costume as he stepped back onto the set…

Wait, did Dave call him fine?

#joe young #dave the lighting guy #orgazmo #orgazmo fanfic #matt and trey #matt stone #trey parker #give me some feedback #fanfic #fluff #joe x dave #dave is so obviously gay for joe #I love dave sm #south park #baseketball #sorry this is kind of bad #hope you enjoy

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telekineticseance · 2 years ago

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writing a matt pov is making me giggle and kick my feet back and forth

#it’s all fluff because i’m DIGGING into his feelings #matt stone #matt stone x reader

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comatosebunny09 · 4 days ago

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merry christmas, mr. sylus [ aftermath ]

— summary: maybe he doesn’t hate you as much as you thought. — cw: fluff, romance, jealousy, feelings of inadequacy, reader is not mc, ceo au, modern au, aged-up characters (sylus is in his mid-30s), mutual pining — notes: a happy ending for the holidays. happy holidays, all! [ part 1 | part 2 ] — now playing: some days - stella jang

It’s been nearly a week since you kissed your boss that fateful night.

Well, more like since he kissed you.

And it’s strange because even though he was the one to initiate it, he’s been avoiding you like a sickness. His curt good mornings have felt glacial, where they were once warm enough to light the torch of your day. Your daily briefs have felt rigid, and the car rides together have made you want to tuck and roll out the door. Worst off, he hasn’t maintained consistent eye contact with you since Christmas Eve, his gaze often fleeting away, studying the floor or the blurred space over your shoulder.

It really pisses you off. It’s bad enough that the night replays in your mind like a warped record, bringing with it warring feelings of relief and hurt. Relief because, maybe, he didn’t push you away as much as you initially thought. Hurt because the look on his face when he booked it to the elevator, leaving you to nurse bittersweet emotions and a broken smile, is permanently ingrained in your memory.

The pain overshadows all because he won’t even look at you now.

Were your lips chapped? Is it because you didn’t know what to do with your hands? Did you smell offensive? Were you just shit at kissing? Said thoughts hover in your mind like a nebulous cloud stretched across the galaxy, even as you sift through documents and folders, trying your best to distract yourself.

Mr. Sylus is tucked safe in his office behind you. Over the past few days, he’s made a point to arrive earlier than you—which is alarming considering you’re usually the night heron, showing up to fix his coffee, line up his daily schedule, and greet him with an unbridled smile.

You slam the folder you were working with shut, garnering a few perturbed looks from the staff scuttling about on the tenth floor. Sighing, you pitch yourself back in your chair, a pout inhabiting your features. If he wants to be childish about it, sure. But you’ve rarely been one to let sleeping dogs lie, and the awkwardness between you affects your at-home life as well.

Your gaze flits to the lower drawer of your desk. You scrutinize the lacquered cherry wood, contemplating barging into your boss’ office and giving him your makeup present. You figured maybe, just maybe, he was partially upset because he’d been expecting something more practical for Christmas. And perhaps that’s why he rushed out that night, all stone-faced and covering his lips with spindly fingers.

You still remember their taste—their feel. Your lips still tingle, and your face bleeds bashfulness whenever you recollect. They were slightly chapped but warm as they moved against yours. And, through the union, it felt like he poured something molten into the chasm of your belly. Something that set your heart rate into overdrive, the gears in your head whirring until steam billowed from your ears.

A swift hand covers where your heart thrums, and you shake your head to dispel your memories. Was kissing him really worth it if it meant your working relationship would suffer? Obviously not if you’re mulling over it so hard. But with determination bleeding over your countenance, you bend to throw open your bottom drawer. An oblong, matte black box peers back at you from within, intricately dressed with a scarlet bow. Scarlet, like the irises burned into your memory, looking at you with utter mortification.

Banishing your thoughts, you snatch the present from inside. Kick your drawer shut, standing so quickly that the front wheels of your chair bounce against the floor. You turn towards the heavy oakwood door of his office, the embossed letters of his name challenging you, and you steel your resolve.

But fate has been the most fickle bitch as of late, intervening when she sees fit, burning your efforts to mere soot.

A familiar, mellifluous voice calls you from behind. And just your luck, it would be her. You swivel, greeting Ms. Hunter with all the rehearsed ease of someone in your field.

She’s all bright-eyed and youthful with a thousand-watt smile. Gorgeous despite being in uniform, her hair windswept and cheeks mottled pink. A part of you would love to hate her, but you’ve truly no reason to. She’s never disrespected you, never called you out of your name. She’s been sickeningly cordial since you met her.

“Hey! Sylus in?” she asks, and your heart plummets into your stomach. Why else would she be here?

You nod rigidly, dropping back into your seat with the finesse of a bowling ball. And you take up the handset of your desk phone, dreading the familiar drawl of a particular voice on the other end.

“Speak,” he answers, the curl of his voice making your stomach do somersaults. Despite its flatness, this is perhaps the most emotion you’ve heard from him in the last few days.

“Ms. Hunter is here to see you, sir.”

A part of you hopes he turns her away–tells you he doesn’t want to see anyone, even if it’s his darling lady friend. And you feel you might get your wish when he’s silent for a beat, the crinkly static being your only company. Instead of answering your prayers, he simply answers, “Let her in.”

Your stomach freefalls to your feet. Your mask of a smile twitches, your disappointment sluggishly leaking through the fissures. “Of course, sir.” And you hang up, standing once more to lead Ms. Hunter into the place you haven’t been allowed into for days yourself.

She nods curtly, brushing past you, her hair wispy and the scent of stale Jasmine staining her clothes. When the door clicks shut behind her, you melt into your seat until your shoulders touch your ears, and you kick your excuse for a peace offering under the shadowy abyss of your desk.

And to think you’d worked so hard to muster the courage to confront your boss, too.

—

It’s nearing lunch, and you’re shoving things into your bag as your stomach reminds you that you skipped breakfast. You sling your pack over your shoulder, pushing your chair under your desk, preparing to hit the cafe in the city’s heart for something quick. You barely make it two steps before you’re summoned for the second time, though there is no high and light voice curling around your name this time.

This one is low and even, velvet-smooth, furling in your chest like smoke, sticking to your lungs like ash. You whip your head around to meet a familiar sheen of white hair.

He stands in his doorframe, a pensive look on his face, scarlet eyes smoldering with something you can’t quite place. Has his hands stuffed in his pockets, and he’s looking between you and your bag, wordlessly inquiring where you’re off to.

With a nervous laugh in your throat, you turn to face him fully. “Was just about to grab some lunch. You want anything, sir?”

He shakes his head, the barest cant to his lips. It’s gone before you’ve time to appreciate it.

You don’t know whether to laugh or scream as you fiddle with your fingers. At least he’s trying to approach you first, no matter how uncomfortable the exchange. You wonder if Ms. Hunter had something to do with this. Maybe he told her what happened six nights ago, and she gave him a pep talk to put him back into good spirits. But you know that’s just wishful thinking. In fact, she seemed uncharacteristically somber when she left his office earlier, barely acknowledging your goodbye.

“Can I speak to you before you leave?” he asks, brows slightly furrowed, head tilted, lips set in a stiff line.

Something cold drips through you. You grab the strap of your bag, grip white-knuckled, and the leather squeaks. Despite the dread turning your limbs to lead, you plaster on a smile and nod. He motions into his office, stepping aside to let you in. And you try to ignore how your heart threatens to leap from your rib cage because this is the part where he fires you, isn’t it?

Oh well. The job was good while it lasted—something to fatten up your résumé and harden your heart.

It’s warm inside his office. Of course, it always is. And you’ve missed this, not having been amid these softened, gray, accent molded walls all week. It smells of cracked cinnamon sticks and vanilla beans with something inherently Sylus snuck in between. The city stretches like a yawning beast against the horizon, peering through the ceiling-high windows behind his desk.

Strangling the strap of your pack, you ease into a red, tufted armchair, your legs bouncing and your throat growing dry. You jolt when the door shuts and admonish yourself for being so jittery. If Mr. Sylus intends to fire you, you’ll face it head-on with a smile on your face.

So you muster one as he moves to inhabit the space mere inches away from you, leaning against the edge of his heavy, cherry wood desk, arms crossing over a broad chest. He’s as devastating a sight as ever, his blazer slung over the back of his rolling chair, his forearms bleeding from cuffed sleeves. And the sight of his veins, branching like a roadmap beneath his skin, still makes your tongue feel heavy in your mouth.

You’re going to miss this.

He looks contemplative as you toy with your bag’s zipper. And your cheeks ache from smiling so hard. Wonder how long you’ll have to keep up this act before he drops a bomb on you.

“How are you doing today?” he queries. And you blink rapidly, not expecting him to open the floor with small talk. Regardless, you’re grateful he’s offering you more than curt grunts, even if it’ll be the last time you hear them.

“Um…I’m doing alright, I guess.”

Your stomach growls, disrupting the tension that brews between you. You rub your stomach placatingly, and Sylus snorts, perching virile hands on the edge of his desk, leaning back. He seems a little more open. A little lighter, and you find your lips twitching with a genuine smile this time.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to steal you away from your lunch break. I promise to be brief.”

You nod as a knot of nerves forms in your gut, warring with your hunger. Straightening your back, you cross your ankles, hands flattened in your lap. Here it comes—

“Do you…have any plans for New Year’s?”

You blink again, brows pinching. “Wh-wha?”

He sheepishly rubs the scruff of his neck, and you can’t recall a time you’ve ever seen him so at odds with himself. He reminds you of an adolescent, rallying the courage to ask out their crush.

“A friend of mine owns a cabin up in the woods.” He looks at you, wetting his lips. You nod, cautiously encouraging him to continue. “He usually hosts this whole weekend extravaganza there every New Year’s. Bringing a plus one is a bit of an unspoken rule. I was wondering if you didn’t already have plans—”

You unconsciously lean forward, brows lifting.

“—if you would like to accompany me?”

Well, that took a left turn. A hand placed over your heart, you laugh, the knot of your nerves slowly unraveling. So, does this mean your boss doesn’t hate you?

“I would love to!” you say with a little too much enthusiasm. And he smiles in turn, stuffing his hands in his pockets, chuckle infectious.

The load of the air a little lighter, you exchange small talk, and it feels as if nothing’s changed between you. Like that fateful Christmas Eve night, you didn’t make an ass of yourself, and he didn’t regret kissing you.

Sylus walks you to the door, twin smiles donning your faces. You turn to him on your way out, awkwardly running into the hardened planes of his chest. He steadies you with tender fingers wrapped around your arms, and the gleam in his eyes siphons the air from your lungs. You find your gaze falling to his lips, his mirroring yours. And had there not been people still milling about, you would’ve kissed him.

“W-would you like to grab lunch together, sir?” you ask instead, caught up in the alluring stir of his eyes—the wispy dance of darkened lashes, the tremor of pink lips.

“Of course,” he answers, his warm breath fanning over your mouth. He sweeps some errant hair behind your ear, the glide of his knuckle against your cheek reminiscent of pill bugs rolling over your skin.

You nod, pulling yourself from the spell the moment cast. And you lead the way, trying vainly to stifle the grin splitting your face in twain, Mr. Sylus a warm and homely presence at your back as the pair of you make your way to the elevator.

#sylus x reader #sylus x you #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #sylus qin #sylus #sylus fluff #sylus romance #holiday fic

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aligned-starz · 7 months ago

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Mixtape - Mattheo Riddle

. * ꙳ ✦ ⊹Pairing : mattheo riddle x fem!reader

Warnings : fluff, use of y/n y/l/n, happy ending

Summary : who knew mattheo could be so patient?

Song : Somethin' Stupid - Frank Sinatra, Nancy Sinatra. * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

Word Count : 3,612

Mattheo Riddle's reputation preceded him: notorious for his quick temper and razor-thin patience. His tolerance for delays could be measured in mere molecules. For most, the prospect of having Mr. Riddle wait on them was akin to receiving a rare blessing or witnessing a miracle. Yet for Y/n, it was just another day in the life.

However, if you were bold enough to confront him about it, he would vehemently deny it, insisting that he never waits on anyone.

"What do you mean you don't wait on anyone, mate? Y/n's got you waiting like a dog on a leash," Blaise quipped, earning chuckles around the Slytherin table. Mattheo shot his friends a glare, a familiar grumpy expression settling upon his face at their teasing. It wasn't anything new.

"Aww, look at the state of you, you big softy!" Pansy's laughter and jest seemed to aggravate him further, evident in the forceful grip on his fork, which tightened by the minute. Theodore observed his friend, noticing something amiss. Mattheo would typically retort with a snarky response, but now he seemed so lost in thought.

Noticing his unusual change in demeanor, the group silently decided to shift the topic, directing their attention to Berkshire, who had become the target of their ridicule.

Lorenzo had recently found himself in an embarrassing altercation with the revered potions master. It marked one of the worst instances of public humiliation he had ever endured. Picture this: he was already five minutes late, had brought the wrong set of books, stumbled over his words while responding to Snape, AND managed to blow up his and his potions partner's cauldron.

Naturally, this series of blunders led to a sassy and cold scolding from Snape. To say that Lorenzo was left blushing scarlet by the end of class would be an understatement.

"Hi Matt!"

Clang! The loud sound of the fork hitting the cool stone floors of the grand hall echoed through the room, accompanied by Mattheo's accidental knee bump in surprise, drawing everyone's attention at the table. If that fork could talk, it would likely express gratitude for your sudden appearance, saving it from the clutches of Riddle's vice-like grip. As Mattheo turned toward you, the frostiness in his gaze thawed, replaced by a gentle warmth in his brown eyes.

Just a moment ago he was lost in his thoughts about you. Did he think of you so much to the point he had conjured you up in front of him? Where the hell did you come from?

Nott smirked at the interaction, Merlin's beard, this guy is whipped.

"You seemed to have dropped your fork, here." you remarked, catching his attention once again. His eyes followed your movements as you gracefully crouched down to retrieve the utensil from the floor. Standing back up, he met your gaze through his long, soft eyelashes while you held out the fork for him to reclaim. And in a trance-like state, he slowly reached out and took it.

Your hands touched. In that moment, a foolish part of him yearned for more, to pull you close and envelop you in the warmth of a hug, to allow himself to be vulnerable for once.

The soft snickering of his friends broke him out of his trance, and with a quick motion, he turned away from you.

"Thanks." His response was brief, but it brought a smile to your lips.

Despite the sudden change, he had subtly shifted along the bench, creating space beside him. It felt like a silent invitation for you to join him. So, without a word, you took your place and set down your plate, inadvertently brushing the back of your hand against his. Perhaps it was unintentional.

Mattheo froze once more, wrestling with his impulses. It took considerable effort to restrain himself, but there was something about you that stirred a tumult of emotions within him. Something that tempted him to lean in and shower your face with kisses. It was beginning to unsettle him.

He withdrew his hand and discreetly tucked it under the table, his gaze fixed downward, brows furrowed in frustration at the escalating intensity of his emotions. His friends looked at one another knowingly, before they continued to chatter about other topics.

As you settled beside him, he couldn't help but notice the subtle fragrance of your perfume, a scent he seemed to encounter every time you were in close proximity. It carried notes of vanilla, with a delicate hint of cherries. The aroma enveloped him, not in a way that hurt his nose, but in a way that stirred a dizzying sensation within him. His heart quickened its pace, and a tightness settled in his chest, each breath seeming to draw in more of your intoxicating essence.

Like smoking a blunt, but knowing it’s good for you.

You joined the chatter, contributing your opinion to whatever topic the group was discussing, he turned his head in your direction. His gaze traced every curve and detail of your face as you spoke. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you laughed in response to something Pansy had remarked, and he felt his own lips instinctively mirror the gesture.

He was going to say something, a witty remark or anything to get you to smile even further. But somehow he couldn’t find his words, his attention consumed by your captivating presence as he struggled to form a coherent sentence. Every gesture, every word you uttered seemed to mesmerize him. You’ve made THE Mattheo Riddle, speechless.

Suddenly, Cedric Diggory approached, clad in his yellow and black robes. Mattheo felt a pang of discomfort stir within him as he watched your attention shift to the newcomer, your smile widening in greeting. He clenched his jaw, his gaze flickering between the two of you, a knot forming in his stomach.

“Y/n, would you like to continue our herbology project? We could get started early.”

His statement abruptly halted the lively conversation around the table. The group exchanged puzzled glances with one another before collectively turning their attention to Riddle. The air grew tense as the weight of his words settled over them, leaving everyone momentarily speechless. Except you, who smiled and chatted with the boy.

A profound sense of jealousy surged within Mattheo, causing his smile to form into a narrow line. You were too nice and oblivious to even notice the abrupt hush that fell over the group.

It wasn't that they disliked Diggory—far from it. It’s just that the group was well aware of Mattheo's possessive tendencies, especially when it came to the girl Cedric was currently chatting with. Their concern wasn't about Diggory himself, but rather the potential for Mattheo's jealousy to stir up trouble.

They all watched the boy closely, anticipating a cutting, sarcastic remark to shatter the silence. But it never came. Instead, he merely averted his gaze, displaying an unusual patience. As you stood up to resume your herbology project and leave, he offered you a gentle smile, a stark contrast to the tension everyone else felt.

The silence deepened after you left, each person at the table coming to their own realization. He didn't just like you. It became evident to all of them that Mattheo was deeply in love with you, so much so that his usual bad behavior seemed to dissolve in your presence. His rough edges softened, revealing a side of him they had rarely seen. It was incredibly uncharacteristic of him, unsettling his platinum blond friend.

"Gods, so it's true then, you love Y/l/n." Draco scoffed and broke the silence, his voice a mix of bewilderment and surprise. Pansy quickly turned and swatted the back of his head, offering Mattheo an apologetic look. Mattheo appeared to be on the verge of exploding, his emotions barely contained as Draco's words hung in the air.

"Oh, fuck off, you ferret," he retorted, his voice laced with irritation. His words were sharp, cutting through the tension as he struggled to keep his temper in check once you were gone.

Malfoy's eyes widened as he coughed, his face flushing a deep red in response to Mattheo's remark. It was clear that the notorious "ferret" incident was something they would never let him live down. The group burst into laughter at the joke, everyone except Mattheo. He remained silent, still grappling with the complex emotions he felt towards you, unable to join in their mirth.

"And so he returns. Y/n leaves for a moment, and the devil horns sprout back," Blaise remarked, his words drawing Mattheo's attention. Mattheo's brows knitted in confusion—what did Y/n have to do with any of this?

"What are you all implying?" He gently shook his head, scanning the faces around the table. Each one met his gaze with a sly smirk, leaving him increasingly puzzled by their shared secret.

"You've got it bad for her, Mattheo. It's painfully obvious," Pansy declared, her words echoing the unspoken sentiments of the group. All eyes turned to Mattheo, anticipation hanging in the air, as if they were silently urging him to acknowledge what they all saw. Perhaps hearing it from someone else would finally make him realize the meaning of what he had felt.

“I like her?”

FLASHBACKS. * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

After a few hours at The Three Broomsticks, the group collectively decided to walk home because of the growing crowd at the pub. In the midst of Hogsmeade’s bustling streets, Mattheo trudged along with his friends, their laughter filling the air. Yet, despite the light atmosphere, Mattheo felt the weight of a particularly bad day settling upon him, rendering him silent.

He’s had a day full of disasters. From sticky butterbeer being spilled onto his sweater, to losing his favorite mixtape. The night sky filled with stars seemed to look upon him with pity, so much so that a sudden downpour of rain drenched the group. They shrieked and laughed as they ran away, leaving behind a Mattheo Riddle who also wanted to run, but noticed the untied state of his shoelaces.

Mattheo quickly bent down to tie his shoelaces with a loud sigh. Raindrops pelted his back, adding to his already dampened mood. While his tipsy friends were away from his sight, Mattheo's thoughts lingered on the frustrations of the day, his mind clouded with a sense of fatigue and discontent.

He observed the droplets as they splashed around him, forming a small puddle beneath his scuffed Converse shoes. Without so much as a glance at his reflection in the water, he stoically continued to tie his shoelaces, his expression unreadable. As he moved to tie his other untied shoe, a sudden shadow eclipsed his vision, drawing his attention away from the task at hand.

With furrowed brows, he lifted his gaze, a blend of surprise and confusion crossing his features. However, his expression swiftly transformed into one of astonishment as he registered whose presence it was. There you were, holding your leather jacket aloft to shield Mattheo from the relentless rain. Stunned by your unexpected act of kindness, he found himself momentarily frozen in place.

“Well come on, hurry up!”

Mattheo found solace from the Slytherin party amidst the rows of books, his headphones nestled snugly over his ears. Lost in the melody of his music, he was oblivious to the world around him, the rhythmic sounds escaping from his headphones and gently permeating the tranquil atmosphere.

Beside him, you sat down to accompany him. The library was completely silent, everyone else was probably at the party your friends had thrown, rendering the place empty. However, the muffled strains of Mattheo's music began to seep through his headphones, dancing faintly in the air.

You listened quietly as Mattheo sat with his eyes closed, completely engrossed in the soft melody emanating from his headphones. A gentle smile graced your lips as you watched his relaxed demeanor, his lips slightly parted while his chest rose up and down, the soothing music seemingly transporting him to a quiet state of mind. With his wounded nose, and bruised knuckles, who would’ve guessed he was listening to this kind of music.

"But then I go and spoil it all, by saying somethin' stupid like, I love you."

You tilted your head, you didn't recognise this kind of music at all. Same as to the tape you found in the courtyard. Curiously, you tapped Mattheo’s shoulder, scaring him out of his tranquil state.

“Shit! Y/n, don’t sneak up on me like that.” Mattheo cursed in surprise, quickly pulling down his headphones and turning to face you, a mix of caution and annoyance in his eyes.

“What are you listening to?” you asked, genuine curiosity evident in your voice.

Mattheo hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his response. Finally, he met your gaze and replied, “Somethin’ Stupid, by Frank Sinatra.”

“Muggle music?” you questioned again, intrigued by his choice.

Mattheo sighed, turning back to face the table and crossing his arms. The solitude he had been enjoying was now broken by your company. “Yes, muggle music,” he replied, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. “You wouldn’t know it.”

You silently absorbed his vague answer, a soft smile forming on your lips. Bending down to pick up your bag from the floor, you rummaged through its contents until your fingers brushed against what you were searching for. With a sense of anticipation, you pulled out a small, box-shaped mixtape. Scrawled across its surface in marker were the words, "The Smiths."

“Muggle music huh, like this I presume?” You held the mixtape up within his eyesight. Mattheo's eyes widened slightly in recognition as he realized that the mixtape you were holding was his own. He uncrossed his arms, a mix of surprise and gratitude washing over his annoyance.

“You found it,” he breathed, his voice tinged with relief.

You nodded, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. “It was lying in the courtyard. I figured it must be important to you since you’ve mentioned before that you liked muggle music.”

Mattheo's expression softened, tilting his head with a smile, touched by your gesture. “You remembered?.. It is. Thank you.”

As he took the mixtape from you, his fingers brushed against yours, sending a jolt of warmth through you both. In that fleeting touch, a connection seemed to spark between you.

You've always been friends, but it was always just friends. Not close friends, or bestfriends. Just friends.

The library's quiet enveloped you once more, but now it was accompanied by a newfound sense of comfort and understanding. As Mattheo took out the previous tape, and put in his favorite one, you couldn't help but feel that this chance encounter had brought you closer together in an unexpected way.

Mattheo paused, a thought forming in his head.

"Do you wanna.. listen with me?"

The flickering light from the cauldron cast long shadows on the potions classroom walls. Mattheo stared in frustration at his potion, which was bubbling in all the wrong ways. He let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his tousled hair.

"That's it. I can't do this. I’m a lost cause," he muttered, pushing the textbook away and slumping back in his chair.

You shook your head, a determined smile on your face. "You’re not a lost cause. Come on, we can work on it together. Potions is tricky, stop being so hard on yourself."

Mattheo looked at you, doubt etched in his features. "I’ve tried and tried, so many times I’ve lost count. It’s hopeless." He thought of Malfoy and his other friends who had tried countless times to help him pass this project, only to give up defeatedly.

You leaned in closer, your eyes filled with encouragement. "It's not hopeless. Let’s go through the instructions again, step by step."

Tucking your hair behind your ear, you grabbed the book and turned it toward him again, pointing at the list of ingredients. "Remember, you need to add the crushed pearls after the rose thorns. Not before."

Mattheo glanced at the instructions, "How do you remember all this?"

A smile spread across your lips as you chuckled softly. "I actually really enjoy this class. It reminds me of cooking. But enough about me, focus Riddle."

He turned his gaze to you and laughed softly, watching as you explained the potion once more. He noticed the twinkle in your eyes as you talked about a subject you loved, the way your hands moved to make gestures, and how your hair framed your face perfectly, even as the cold wind tried to blow it away. You looked like his favorite mixtape—captivating and cherished.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he turned back to focus on the potion. Despite his earlier frustration, he found it hard to concentrate when you were all he could think about now. But he wanted to impress you.

With your patient guidance, Mattheo carefully measured out the ingredients, adding them in the correct order this time. As he followed your instructions, the potion started to change color, transitioning from a murky brown to a shimmering gold.

A flicker of hope sparked in Mattheo’s eyes. "It’s actually working."

You smiled brightly. "See? I knew you could do it."

A loud laugh of triumph escaped from Mattheo's throat, and as he continued to brew the potion from memory, the shimmering gold color shifted into a soft beautiful pink, with a mother-of-pearl sheen.

"Well Mr. Riddle, I think we have a love potion."

He looked at you with gratitude in his eyes, acknowledging your role in the successful creation of the potion. You could've very easily given up on him, but you didn't.

"Give it a sniff!"

Mattheo leaned over the cauldron, inhaling deeply as the Amortentia potion began to release its powerful scent. His eyes widened in surprise, then softened with confusion. He straightened up, a puzzled look on his face.

"That's odd," he murmured, more to himself than to you. "I don't smell anything distinct, no new smells."

You furrowed your brows, leaning over the cauldron yourself to sniff the potion. Yet, no new smell arose. All you could smell was Mattheo's scent, and all he could smell was your scent. Both that have already been lingering in the air the moment you stepped into the classroom together.

"Huh, maybe I brewed it wrong?" He defeatedly sighed.

Mattheo was on his way out of the common room, ready to meet up with his friends for their usual late-night hangout. The laughter and chatter of Blaise, Draco, and Theodore echoed faintly from down the corridor. He was just about to push the door open when something made him pause.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a familiar figure curled up on the couch by the fireplace. You were fast asleep, a textbook resting open on your chest and a few loose parchments scattered around you. The soft glow from the dying embers of the fire cast a warm, flickering light across your tired face.

Mattheo hesitated, torn between joining his friends and staying behind. His eyes softened as he watched you, noticing the way your hair fell gently across your face and how your breathing was slow and steady. You looked so serene, a contrast to the usually bustling common room.

Unable to help himself, he quietly walked over to the couch. Carefully, he gathered the loose parchments and placed them in a neat pile on the table beside you. He gently closed the textbook and set it aside, making sure not to disturb you.

Instead of leaving, Mattheo decided to stay and look out for you. He settled himself beside you, carefully plopping himself down to sit. You stirred slightly in your sleep, and Mattheo smiled softly, reaching out to adjust the blanket draped over you.

With you resting, Mattheo decided to make himself comfortable as well. He shifted slightly, allowing you to rest your feet on his lap. He pulled out his headphones, making sure his tape player was at a low volume. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes peacefully at your presence and the music playing in his ears.

END OF FLASHBACKS. * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

"Earth to Riddle," Draco said, waving a hand in front of Mattheo’s face. "Where are you, mate?"

"I like her."

Mattheo opened his mouth to speak more, but then closed it again, feeling a rush of clarity. He liked you. No, it was more than that—he realized he was falling for you. All those moments together, your kindness, your patience, your laughter—it all made sense now.

Without another word, he stood up abruptly, his friends laughing at his late realization. "I have to go," he said, his voice firm with determination.

"Yeah! Go get her tiger!" Theo cheered.

Mattheo ran out of the Great Hall, his heart pounding in his chest. He needed to find you. He needed to tell you how he felt.

The cold air nipped at his ears as he ran down the corridors, but he didn't care. His mind was consumed with thoughts of you. He recalled the softness of your voice, a soothing tune to his often restless thoughts, like the songs he uses to escape. He thought about everything he loved about you—the way your eyes sparkled with understanding, your infectious laughter, and the small gestures that showed your kindness.

Your patience with him stood out the most, especially during times when he struggled and felt like giving up. You always believed in him, offering encouragement and support even when he couldn’t find it in himself. Each memory of you fueled his determination, propelling him forward through the chilly air.

He sprinted down the corridors, ignoring the curious looks from other students. He knew where you’d be—near the Herbology classroom. As he burst out of the castle doors and ran toward the greenhouse area, he saw you standing there, leaning against the wall, completely unaware of the whirlwind of emotions that had driven him here.

You turned as Cedric pointed at Mattheo, a confused look both on your faces at the sight of him running toward you, when suddenly he shouted,

"Hey Y/n! I love you!"

My first upload received so much attention, I DID NOT EXPECT THAT AT ALL. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you to everyone who commented and reblogged. It means a lot to me that people enjoyed my writing, and I hope you all enjoy this one too. To be honest, this work could've been better and I've been putting off finishing this since like forever. But @taylorisamastermind 's kind words inspired me to finish. Again, if you notice any grammatical mistakes, no you didn't!

Thank you everyone! xx

[my masterlist⋆｡°✩]

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle imagine #fanfiction #fluff #mattheo riddle oneshot #mattheo riddle x y/n #slytherin #harry potter #wizarding world #oneshot

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strnilolover · 30 days ago

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⋆.˚ She’s not mine, She’s not you .ᐟ

☕︎ Prince!Matt x Maid Reader au

☕︎ Warmings : Arranged Marriage, Angst, Fluff, Forbidden Love/Relationship, Sneaking around and More.

☕︎ In which … prince matt and maid reader have been in a secret relationship for a little bit now. But, they’ve had to keep it behind closed doors because of his royal status and family. What happens when he’s placed in an arranged marriage he doesn’t even want to be in?

☕︎ 01, 02

The air in your small quarters felt heavier than usual this evening. The flickering light of a single candle cast soft shadows on the stone walls as you meticulously folded linens. The familiar routine was meant to keep your mind occupied, but tonight, it couldn’t quiet the gnawing unease that had settled in your chest.

Matt had been distant all day. Normally, he’d find a reason to slip into whatever room you were working in, whether it was the grand library, the kitchens, or even the stables. He’d offer smiles and some heated actions that made your heart race. But today, he was nowhere to be found.

You told yourself it was nothing — that he was simply busy with royal duties. Yet the anxious pit in your stomach told a different story.

But then a sudden, forceful knock at your door startled you. Before you could answer, the door burst open. Matt stood in the doorway, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. His hair was messier than usual, his shirt slightly wrinkled as if he’d been running his hands through it all day. His expression was a storm of frustration and anguish, a stark contrast to the gentle, confident prince you knew.

“Matt?” you said cautiously, setting the linens aside and stepping toward him. “What’s going on?” you whisper, cautious not to upset him farther from what ever it was.

He didn’t answer right away, instead closing the door behind him with a heavy thud and locking it. His hands rested on the doorframe for a moment as he let out a slow, shaky breath. When he finally turned to face you, the fire in his eyes made your heart skip.

“They’ve done it,” he said bitterly. “They’ve made the decision for me.” his words were rough — it sounded like he just ate something that wasn’t good, whatever this was — wasn’t good.

Your brows furrowed slightly, unsure as to what he meant — but you had a feeling. “What decision?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but you already knew you weren’t going to like the answer he was going to provide you.

He took a breath, his body visibly shaking. “My parents,” he began, his voice tight with anger. “They’ve arranged a marriage. To Lady Evelina.”

The words hit you like a blow to the chest. You felt the air leave your lungs as your knees wobbled slightly. You gripped the edge of your desk for support, your fingers digging into the wood.

You stood there, the words on the tip of your tongue — but it felt like gravel running along your mouth. “When?” you managed to ask, though your voice trembled.

“The engagement is to be announced at the ball in five months.” he spat, pacing the small room like a caged animal. “They didn’t even ask me. They didn’t give me a choice.” he voice raised, hands coming up to point at his chest as to get his words across more clearly.

You stared at him, trying to process what he was saying. The weight of it pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. “Lady Evelina…” you said softly, as if saying her name aloud would make it less real. “She’s… she’s beautiful. She’s noble. She’s—”

“She’s not you,” Matt interrupted, stopping mid-step to look at you. His gaze was fierce, almost desperate. “She’s not the one I love.” he stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world — because it was, to you both.

“Matt…” You shook your head, a lump forming in your throat. “You’re a prince. You were always going to marry someone like her. I knew that.” you said, voice cracking as you forced them through your teeth.

“No,” he said firmly, crossing the room to stand in front of you. “I told you from the beginning — I don’t care about any of that. Titles, politics, expectations — they mean nothing to me. You’re the only one who matters.”

His words, spoken with such conviction, brought tears to prick at the corner of your eyes. “And what about your kingdom?” you asked, your voice breaking even more. “What about your people? They expect you to marry someone who can strengthen alliances, someone who can stand beside you as a queen-“

“I don’t care what they expect!” he exclaimed, cutting you off as his frustration started to boil over. “I care about what I want. And I want you.”

“You think that’s enough?” you said, tears streaming down your cheeks now. “You think you can just tell your parents, your court, your entire kingdom that you love a maid, and they’ll just… accept it?” your chest twisted.

“I’ll make them accept it,” he said stubbornly, his jaw set. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Your hands trembled as you stepped away from him, needing distance to think clearly. “Matt, you’re being reckless,” you said, your voice barely steady. “You have a responsibility — to your family, to your kingdom. I can’t let you throw all of that away for me.”

He followed you, closing the space quickly between you with a few long strides. “You don’t get to decide that,” he said, his voice soft but firm. He reached for your hands, holding them gently despite the storm of emotions coursing through his veins. “This is my life. And I’m choosing you.” he whispered, gripping your hands tighter as he brought them up to place a small peck on your knuckles.

Your resolve crumbled under the weight of his words. A sob escaped your lips as you shook your head. “You shouldn’t have to choose,” you whispered. “You shouldn’t have to sacrifice everything for me.”

Matt shook his head, “Don’t you see?” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m not sacrificing anything. You’re the only thing that’s ever felt right. Without you, none of it matters.”

And you stared at him — your tears falling freely now. His love for you was undeniable, but so was the impossible weight of the world he lived in.

“And Lady Evelina?” you asked bitterly. “What about her? She’s being forced into this, too. She deserves someone who loves her.”

“She does,” Matt admitted, his shoulders slumping slightly. “But that person won’t be me. I’ll talk to her. I’ll tell her the truth.“ he says.

“And what if she wants you to be that person?” The question hung in the air like a dark cloud, the unspoken reality neither of you wanted to face.

Matt’s hands tightened around yours once more, his grip almost desperate. “Then I’ll find another way,” he said firmly. “I’ll talk to my parents, the council — whoever I need to. There has to be another way.” his voice was almost a plea now — the once storm was still there, but muffled now.

“Matt…” Your voice was barely a whisper. “Sometimes there isn’t.”

He pulled you into his arms suddenly, holding you so tightly it was as if he thought you might disappear. His chin rested on the top of your head, and you could feel his chest rising and falling against you.

“I won’t lose you,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the tears you could hear in it. “No matter what it takes, I won’t lose you.”

You closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into his embrace for what you feared might be the last time. “I love you, Matt,” you whispered. “But this… it’s bigger than us. You can’t fix this.”

“Yes, I can,” he said softly, but there was a crack in his voice that betrayed his own doubt. “I have to.”

For a moment, the world outside didn’t exist. There was no Lady Evelina, no arranged marriage, no impossible expectations. There was only Matt, his arms around you, and the love you both felt but couldn’t hold onto.

But reality had a way of creeping back in. And as you pulled away, the weight of what lay ahead settled heavily in your chest.

“Promise me something,” you said, your voice trembling.

“Anything,” he said without hesitation.

“Promise me you won’t lose yourself in this fight,” you whispered. “No matter what happens, no matter what you have to do — don’t lose the part of you that I fell in love with.”

He cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that streaked your cheeks. “I won’t,” he said softly, his voice steady now. “But I can’t promise that I won’t fight for you. Because I will. Until my last breath.”

a/n : holy shit balls y’all. i have been thinking about this for so long and now i have finally, FINALLY, written the first part. i’m not sure how many parts there will be after this or what direction it’ll go in, i’m just building as i go. BUT — i hope you all enjoy this first part 😛

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musingsofahufflepuff · 1 month ago

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Just to Stop the Feeling

bi!Theodore Nott x m!reader; angst & fluff

summary: in the wake of his mother’s death and his father’s ever increasing expectations of him, Theodore finds love in a place he never would have expected

a/n: a year in the making and this might be the gayest thing i’ve ever written. big shout out to @suugarbabe for listening to me yap about this for weeks, the anon who requested this, and everyone who’s been supporting me the past year. here's 6.2k words of bi awakening, enjoy ♡

The Great Hall was loud, too loud if you asked Theodore. The Sytherin was sat at his house table, head propped up on one hand as his friends chattered around him. The sorting ceremony had just wrapped up which meant everyone in the Hall was catching up about their summers. Theo thought back to just a couple days ago, the oppressive silence that haunted the Nott Manor in stark contrast to just how lively and crowded it was now. His father was rarely in common spaces nowadays, thank Merlin, but that left Theo to stalk around the Manor much like the ghosts floating above him now. If only it was as interesting an existence as Sir Nicholas or even Peeves. Not even a poorly rolled cigarette in the garden brought much enjoyment to him these days.

“Theo! Are you with us mate?”

His eyes drag up to meet the inquisitive look on Enzo’s face. He hums in acknowledgement.

“We’ve been talking to you for the past five minutes.” Theo takes the cue to look around and see the group looking at him, some in amusement and some—Mattheo specifically, though he tries to hide it—with concern.

He slips on his signature lazy half smirk with minimal effort, rehearsed and perfected. “Tired from the train, what did I miss?”

Enzo perks up and launches them back into conversation, Mattheo visibly relaxing in his peripheral. Arm still supporting his head, he jokes and laughs and nods along to everyone recapping their summer breaks, feeling hollow.

The Slytherin common room wasn’t cozy in the traditional sense, with its cool lighting and excess of stone architecture, but Theo found it comforting nonetheless. He was sitting on one of the leather couches in front of the fireplace, this time only in the company of Mattheo and Draco.

Cool leather against his skin contrasted nicely with the heat of the fire, the familiar voices of his friends putting his soul at ease for the first time in months. He loosely kept up with what they were talking about, his mind simultaneously wandering to thoughts about the new term. Evidently, Draco and Mattheo were on the same wavelength as the topic shifted to Hogwarts and—much to Theo’s dismay—girls. “So Nott, got your eye on anyone this year?”

Theo rolled his head against the back of the couch to face Draco, that smirk back on his face. “Eh, hadn’t thought about it too much. I know Pansy has hers on you, Malfoy.”

The blond scoffs, “as if I wasn’t aware.”

“Like a predator on prey,” Mattheo cracks, smile evident in his voice. Theo allows himself to chuckle as Draco looks at them helplessly. Theo feels Matt’s elbow nudge at his side. “Too bad it isn’t Granger looking at him that way.”

A pillow flies past Theo’s head and smacks the boy next to him square in the face. Mattheo dramatically falls back onto the couch before erupting into laughter.

“Too bad you aren’t a beater, huh Malfoy?” Theo quips, quickly putting up his hands to potentially block another projectile pillow.

Draco just groans, “I’m going to bed.”

The first month of classes flies by fairly quickly, everyone falling into their usual rhythm. Quidditch practices a few times a week, late nights smoking in the astronomy tower and the odd party here and there. Theo is itching to get off the castle grounds.

That’s why he jumped at the opportunity to go when Enzo asked the group for company on his shopping trip that Saturday morning. Theodore loved Hogsmeade in the fall. The shops would put up festive decorations and the entire atmosphere of the small village grew extra cozy.

With a Slytherin scarf loosely draped over his shoulders and Butterbeer on the brain, he met his group of friends at the beginning of the path to Hogsmeade.

The breeze was comfortable as they walked through the village, stopping every couple of shops to peruse the new inventory. They finally make their way to the Three Broomsticks, finding a table for the group.

Theo groans as he gets voted to go up to the bar for drinks. Sitting at one of the stools is a guy in scarf showing off a badger emblem. As he gets closer, he realizes he vaguely recognizes the Hufflepuff. Theo settles himself down on the stool next to him, causing the guy to look over.

He has a quizzical expression on his face, eyes lighting up as he figures out who he’s looking at, “You’re Nott, right? I think we have a couple classes together.”

His heart thumps a little harder at his name on the boy’s lips. The boy in front of him tilts his head when Theo doesn’t respond, reminding him to give a quick nod.

The Hufflepuff’s lips tug up into a small smile as he offers up his name.

Theo blinks a couple times and stammers out something about seeing the guy around sometime before he’s speed walking back to the table, no drinks in hand.

“Whoa, who got Nott blushing?”

Theo furrows his brows together in confusion, a hand coming up to his face. And sure enough, heat was radiating off his cheeks.

“Never mind that, Theo! Where’s the butterbeer?”

Monday morning Theo is sitting in History of Magic before class starts, getting ready for an hour of boredom, when books hitting the desk with a thud catches his attention. He’s startled to see you, the Hufflepuff boy from the Three Broomsticks, standing there already looking at him.

“Mind if I sit here?”

Theo nods, feeling like an idiot. Why was this Hufflepuff boy able to completely shut off his ability to speak, let alone think?

That bright smile is back on your face as you take the seat next to him. And his heart flutters.

“So glad this is the last year of having to put up with Binns and his masterclass story telling,” he can practically feel the sarcasm dripping from your voice and finds himself cracking a smile. An actual smile, not the smirk he usually puts on.

“I know, it’s a wonder anyone manages to stay awake.”

You gesture to the travel mug in your hands, “gotta keep at least a bit of caffeine on me for emergencies. One of my muggle-born friends gave me something called an energy drink? It’s…a lot, to be quite honest.”

Theo huffs a laugh, “energy drink? You’d be better off with some espresso than whatever muggles put in those things.”

You give a contemplative nod, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Before he can figure out something else to say, to keep existing in the surprising warmth of conversation with you, Binns is starting up his monotone ramble. Theo feels his heart sink as you look away from him to at least make an attempt to pay attention. He silently looks through his textbook, trying to ignore the weird sensation in his chest.

“Hey Theo, wanna come to the Astronomy Tower tonight?” Mattheo’s voice comes from behind where he’s sat in the common room the next evening after dinner.

He pulls his nose out of the book he was buried in as he thinks it over. It had been a while since he’d had a proper smoke with the lads, and he didn’t need to ask to know that’s what Mattheo had in mind. It doesn’t take long for him to set his book down on the table with a nod, “yeah, sure.”

As he turns around to face him, he sees Enzo right behind the other boy, grinning with a thumbs up. The look on his face makes Theo debate changing his mind, but he walks out of the common room with the pair anyway.

The walk up to the Astronomy Tower is long and filled with so many stairs that Theo is very quickly reminded why he doesn’t bother coming up here as often as he thinks he’d like to. Enzo and Mattheo walk slightly in front of him, talking about something Theo doesn’t really bother to listen in on, Quidditch perhaps? How those two don’t run out of things to talk about, he’ll never know. He’s so lost in thought he barely notices the last two flights of stairs to the top and he’s suddenly hit with the cool air of early fall. He’s also suddenly aware that Mattheo and Enzo are no longer talking, but instead looking at him. He blinks.

“Huh?”

“Told ya he’s just been on a different planet lately,” Enzo quips, nudging Mattheo with his elbow. Mattheo nods in agreement but doesn’t comment on it, instead repeating his question, “I said do ya got your own smokes or are you taking one off me? Cause if you are, we’re fucked. I’m out.”

Theo isn’t surprised in the slightest, “is that why you invited me? Free cigs?” Nonetheless, he pulls a pack out of his pocket and holds it out for him.

Matt grins as he swipes one, “nah, but it doesn’t hurt. You’ve always got nicer ones than me.” Enzo immediately scoffs.

“It’s cause you’re broke Matty—”

“Shut up, no I’m not!”

“Then explain why you keep mooching off of me—” they continue to bicker before Theo cuts them off. “Matt, got a light?”

Mattheo shuts up and holds out a lighter, flicking it to life with practiced ease. Enzo swoops in with his joint before Theo can even pull a cigarette out of his pack, rolling his eyes at his friend. Mattheo raises an eyebrow quizzically, “weed? Seriously?”

Enzo just shrugs nonchalantly, cocky little smirk on his face. “Not my fault neither of you know how to have fun—hold on, is that my fucking lighter?!” Mattheo gives him a shrug, moving it away from where Enzo’s leaning in to get a better look.

Theo sighs, “I think he meant on a school night—”

“Who are you? My mum? Didn’t think you cared about actually attending lessons, Teddy—” Theo immediately scowls at the nickname, making Enzo raise his hands in surrender, smirk still planted on his face. Merlin, he could be insufferable.

Theo returns the shrug, trying to play it off, “just figured with OWLs coming up—”

He’s cut off once again, this time by Mattheo, “don’t tell me, you wanna make sure you don’t miss sitting by that Hufflepuff.” Damn his ability to see straight through him. “Don’t think we didn’t notice you two sitting together yesterday in Binns’ class.”

“Well, I didn’t…” Enzo interjects but is ignored by Mattheo other than an exasperated eye roll.

“You seemed pretty chatty; wasn’t that the same guy at the Three Broomsticks last Saturday?”

Theo quickly lights the cigarette on Mattheo’s still flickering flame and shoves it between his lips. He receives an unimpressed look at his attempt to avoid the question, but to his credit, Matt refrains from pressing further. The same cannot be said for Enzo.

“So what, you’re fraternizing with Hufflepuffs now, are ya mate? Never thought I’d see the day—” his teasing is abruptly ended by Mattheo whacking him upside the head.

Mattheo lights his own cigarette before putting the lighter away, taking a deep drag from it. There’s a beat of silence between them. A gentle breeze passes through the tower as Theo looks out at the Scottish Highlands bathed in the light of the moon.

“He’s just…nice, I guess. Doesn’t seem to mind I’m a Slytherin,” Theo finally answers, releasing a stream of smoke.

Enzo chuckles, rubbing the back of his head where he was whacked. “Fair enough. I feel like usually only girls that want a little fun are willing to break that barrier.” He raises his eyebrows suggestively as he takes a drag as well. Mattheo snorts with a nod. “At least it's not a Gryffindor.” Theo’s nose subconsciously scrunches.

“Yeah, remember that Gryffindor Enz was all over end of last term because word was going around he had a good pot stash?” Now it’s Mattheo getting shoved, but he barely reacts besides a huff of a laugh.

“Didn’t even have the goods,” Enzo pouts petulantly, “wasted a whole 2 weeks for nothing.”

“I think you’ll live, mate.”

Theo leans back against the railing, cigarette between his lips as he watches his best mates as their bickering shifts into them laughing and joking like it always does. He adds a couple quips here and there, mind wandering to the Hufflepuff boy periodically as the cigarette slowly dwindles. Once it’s reached the end of its life, he snuffs it out, pushing himself off the floor where they’d ended up sitting for the past hour. “I think I’m heading back down to the dorms, it’s getting late.”

Mattheo shares a look with Enzo. With a smirk, Enzo wolf whistles, “gotta get your beauty sleep for your little badger, eh Nott?”

Theo just flips him the middle finger as he crosses the tower to the first of many, many stairs. As his descending footsteps echo through the stairwell, Enzo turns to Mattheo, “poor fucker is whipped.”

Mattheo nods, “and down right oblivious…how many galleons are we betting for how long it takes him to figure it out?”

There’s a mischievous smirk on the other boy’s face. “How much you got?”

The next morning, Theo is once again startled by the Hufflepuff boy dropping his books on the table with that same dramatic thud. If Theo didn’t know any better, he would start to think it was intentionally to get his attention. This time, he speaks first.

“Morning.”

There’s that bright smile again and Theo’s chest feels…odd.

“Morning!” you chirp as you slide into the seat. ��I took your advice and got some espresso, much better than that muggle concoction. Figured since it was your suggestion, I’d bring you some. Mum got some beans from a cafe in London when I wrote her about it.”

Once again a warm sensation floods Theo as a second mug is set on the table and slid his direction. He carefully picks it up and takes off the lid, finding a double shot inside. It’s still hot from what he assumes is a temperature charm on the mug and the warm sensation in his chest gets stronger.

He raises the cup to his nose, inhaling the comforting aroma of coffee before taking a sip. It’s not quite the taste of home, but it’s close. He nods appreciatively.

Then before he can stop himself he’s making an offer, accent a hint thicker than he typically tries to control, “I’ll have to make you a cup the way I had growing up sometime. This is good though.”

Theo doesn’t have time to backtrack or change his mind before your smile is turning softer. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

To hide the flushing of his cheeks, he quickly downs the rest of the liquid and hands the mug back. For maybe the first time ever he’s glad Binns decides now is the perfect time to begin the monotonous period.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees you put the mug back in your bag, soft smile still on your face. And maybe Theo doesn’t hate this class as much as he thought he did.

Over the following weeks, Theodore does the unthinkable: he looks forward to bloody History of Magic, just for the opportunity to chat with you before class.

His friends share looks at breakfast as he starts leaving earlier and earlier each Monday and Wednesday, hoping to get even just a bit of extra time with you. Because he’s too nervous to ask you to hang out. And he cannot for the life of him figure out why.

He’s Theodore Nott. The stoic, level headed and lusted after Slytherin. Right? He makes people nervous. He flusters pretty girls. So what the bloody hell is going on?

He’s never, not once in his 5 years at Hogwarts, ever considered the possibility that someone could do this to him. Let alone a stupid, pretty Hufflepuff boy with a gentle, excited smile that’s way too eager to mingle with a snake. But somewhere in his gut Theo knows he’d be devastated if the other boy stopped.

And that terrifies him.

One morning after several weeks of sitting together, you once again drop your books onto the desk with the theatrics Theo’s come to expect from you. He subconsciously finds himself perking up at the sound just before you start chattering away, something he’s also grown almost fond of. He likes that you tend to fill the space he’d otherwise find awkward or tedious in conversation, seemingly undeterred by his often quiet nature. And he’s more than happy to just listen to you and bask in your welcoming presence.

This time you’re talking about the History of Magic exam coming up in a couple weeks and your lack of a study partner, something that instantaneously catches Theo’s attention.

“Yeah, my usual study buddy bailed on me, the nerve,” you laugh. “So now I’m on the hunt for a new one…”

Theo’s heart rate picks up as you trail off, there’s no way you’re going to say what he’s hoping you will. Right? There’s no way he’s that lucky. Hell, there’s no way someone like you would want to be around him outside sitting next to each other in the worst class offered at Hogwarts. He’s pretty sure you have less controversial friends to ask than a brooding Slytherin whose best mate is the son of Voldemort, for fucks sake—

His internal pity party is cut short by you looking at him almost… nervously?

“Would you maybe be free to, I dunno, study together some time next week? It’s cool if you’re not, I just thought—well, I’m not sure what I thought—other than that I would offer,” your question starts to shift into a ramble and your cheeks flush as you seem to realize it. Meanwhile, Theo’s heart has stopped and his breath catches in his throat. He has to hold himself back from shouting a thrilled “Yes!”

He clears his throat, desperately clinging to his composure. “Yeah, sure, I could make that work. When did you have in mind?”

Theo feels nearly sick with nerves as he sits at the Central Hall fountain outside of the library waiting for you. He was at least 15 minutes early, mostly because Enzo said he would hex him if he kept pacing around the dorm room like he had been for the prior half hour. His foot taps anxiously in a way he is not used to. He's no stranger to stress, but this is on a different level. All he's going to be doing is go over the most boring aspects of wizarding history with you for a couple hours and here he is, worried he's going to end up in the Hospital Wing with heart palpitations. He takes a deep, shaky breath as he looks up at the snoring dragon mural above the library. Just breathe you idiot!

“Hey Theo, sorry I'm late. My dormmate would not shut up.” He hears your voice before he sees you, his head turning to follow the sound. And he tries to keep the surprise off his face at hearing you call him Theo instead of Nott like you had been since that afternoon in the Three Broomsticks. “You ready for the most exciting next couple hours of your life?” Oh, and what he wouldn't do to see that teasing little grin on your face more—

“Ready,” he stands from the fountain bench, following behind you through the heavy wooden doors of the library.

He walks half a step behind you as you weave your way through the tables and shelves, finding a relatively remote spot in the already quiet space. For maybe the first time in—your friendship? Theo hopes that's what you two are at least—the entire time he's known you, your set your books down without the slam.

You must have noticed the look he was giving you because you smirk. “I don't just go throwing books when you're not around. And close your jaw, you'll catch lacewing flies.”

Theo lightly bites on his lip as he sits next to you at the table, your shoulders almost touching. You flip the massive textbook open and pull a couple quills and parchment from your bag as you settle in to go over the material.

There’s a feeling of familiarity with you that Theo wasn’t anticipating. Conversation comes more naturally than when he’s spoken with you before class and he realizes he really, really likes spending time with you. There’s no bickering like there is with Matt and Enzo, no snarky comments thrown around for laughs. It’s peaceful and warm.

He feels like that around you a lot, he realizes, warm. Comfortable. His arm brushes against yours.

Theo and you spend the next couple hours working through the exam material, interspersed with getting to know each other. He listens to you ramble about your favorite classes this term, your friends—anything you’re willing to tell him, he wants to drink it all in.

Neither of you seem to notice how close you’ve gotten to each other until he can feel your breath on his face and that warmth that seems to radiate off of you. Then, you’re getting closer.

There in the back of the library, Theo’s world comes to a standstill as you gently press your lips against his, his heart threatening to pound out of his chest. It takes him a couple seconds to regain his senses before moving his lips back against yours, losing himself in the kiss.

He notices you taste like earl grey which blends with the woody scent of your cologne in an intoxicating mixture. Much too soon for his liking you’re pulling back and he has to stop himself from whining at the loss of contact.

His eyes flutter open to find you haven’t gone far. In the silence he thinks about how pretty your eyes are and maybe—no, definitely—that’s his new favorite color.

“Was that okay?” your voice is just above a whisper.

Theo just leans forward and recaptures your lips in another kiss. First his mind swirls with this is what kissing is supposed to feel like. He’s dumbfounded that it really can feel like fireworks and it’s not just some sappy bullshit made for the romance novels Pansy and Daphne read.

Then it all comes crashing down.

The next thing he feels is dread. Overwhelming, overpowering dread. He can’t quite place why, but it’s there. And suddenly he’s pulling away from your lips like he’s been burned.

He sees the shock on your face, but before he starts to apologize or explain, his father’s voice is itching in the back of his mind. He steps back.

Your voice saying his name is muffled by the ringing in his ears and your concerned expression is taken over by that all too familiar disappointed look in his father’s eyes. He runs away, feeling more like a coward than he’s ever felt in his life.

And the worst part is he knows he’s leaving you alone, confused and hurt. But he does it anyway.

After wandering the corridors of the castle for the better part of 10 minutes, lost in thought, he finds himself in front of the music room. Like his body instinctively knew where he needed to be. He pushes the door open, relieved to find it empty. The wooden stairs creak as he walks up. He sits on the rug by the piano, hugging his knees to his chest.

Theo is alone in the music room not 20 minutes before Mattheo finds him. A bloodhound that boy. Or maybe he just knows Theo too well.

“Your little badger sent me.” Mattheo eases down onto the rug next to him, close enough for his knee to lightly graze Theo’s thigh. “He was freaking out like the world was ending or he kicked your cat or something. Didn’t know where to find you, but he did find Berk and I in the Astronomy tower. So I said I’d take care of it, you’re welcome.”

Theo just hums in acknowledgment.

“So…did he actually kick your cat or what?”

Theo shakes his head.

“Well it must have been pretty bad since you came here. Haven’t seen you hiding out here since, well—” his mum died. Mattheo doesn’t have to finish his sentence, they both know.

A long breath he didn’t realize he was holding breaks out in a sigh as his eyes shut. The soft enchanted piano music is the only sound for a moment as he wills away the emotions threatening to surface. “I don’t know, maybe the world is ending.”

A couple more beats of quiet. “Wanna talk about it?” He knows deep down it’s a question Matt will respect the answer to. And he briefly debates turning him down, but something compels him to slowly nod.

“He—we kissed.”

“Was it bad?”

“No.”

Mattheo nods as he considers the response he was given. “So the problem was that it was good?”

“Yes? No? Maybe?”

“That’s kinda dodging the question, mate.”

Theo groans, “I don’t know, okay?” He runs his fingers through his hair. “I just— cazzo! This is wrong, isn’t it? Feeling like this?”

“Theo—”

“I can’t feel this way for another guy. My father would disown me and it’d ruin my life. I’m supposed to marry a pureblood witch and produce an heir and—”

Before Theo has time to stop him or even process what’s happening, Mattheo is grabbing him by the face and pressing their lips together, and that same fluttering sensation is back. It’s not as strong and thrilling as kissing you, Theo’s not sure that’s even replicable, but it still feels nice in a way none of his previous kisses have been. Where he was going through the motions for some reason even he didn’t understand. But no, once again he can understand why people would want to do this.

Then as quick as he was pulled in, his best friend is pulling away, silently observing him for a moment.

“Did the world end?”

“…No.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

They sit staring at each other as Theo’s brain struggles to formulate a response.

“Matty, I—” he hesitates like this is going to be what destroys their friendship, “I don’t think I’m…straight.”

“I didn’t think you were.”

And something about the way he says it makes Theo feel better. Like he’s not being judged or ridiculed for feeling this way. Like it’s something natural. A no-brainer, boring fact of life. Theo thinks he might cry.

Instead he leans forward and connects their lips again, just briefly. And part of him knows Mattheo can feel the underlying sadness and fear in it. But when they pull apart once again, neither of them comment on it. A weight feels like it's been lifted off him.

“I think,” Theo pauses as he debates speaking about this out loud for the first time, like it will make it real. “I think I haven’t really felt like myself since my mum...y'know?” He says it like it’s a question, but they both know the truth. “I know it’s been 2 years, I should be fine. But I’m not.”

Mattheo, who had been quietly listening, speaks. “I don’t know Theo…I’ve barely heard you talk about her since you came back to school third year. Have you talked about it to anyone? Hell, have you let yourself grieve?”

“I…I don’t know how. My father stopped mentioning her after the funeral and—he barely acknowledged she was even gone.” He pulls his knees back up to his chest. “I miss her.”

He feels the comforting warmth of Matt’s hand on his shoulder blade. And the gentle touch of his thumb across his cheek, wiping a tear away is the first indication that he’s started to cry. He quickly sniffles in an attempt to stop the tears, but it doesn't work. If anything, it just makes them fall faster. He tucks his head down, forehead against his knees. Mattheo's hand gently rubs his back as they sit in silence as he cries. He's grateful Matt doesn't try to help by speaking, the gentle piano filling his ears like a warm hug after being lost in the cold for days with no reprieve.

The silent sobs eventually slow, his body no longer shaking from the force of them. And weirdly, he feels better. He’s spent his whole life being told that men don’t cry, especially pureblood wizards of their status, so when the weight comes off his chest he’s shocked at how easy it is to just breathe.

He pulls his head up to look at Matt, who isn’t looking directly at him but keeps his hand on Theo’s back. A soft murmured, “thanks,” passes his lips and causes the curly haired boy to return his attention to him. Mattheo doesn’t comment on how red and tear-stained his eyes are, much to Theo’s relief.

“You good, mate?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Mattheo hesitates before speaking again, “you don’t have to listen to me, cause what do I know, but I think you should talk to him.” Theo thinks back to you, how lost and hurt you looked when he ran from the library and he sighs.

“When did you get so wise?”

Mattheo shrugs, “we’ve all had to grow up pretty fast…you’re my best mate Theo. It sucks seeing you like this, y'know?” He lightly nudges Theo’s shoulder, “kinda ruins the vibe.”

Theo can’t help but chuckle, “you’re an idiot.”

“And here I thought I was wise.”

“I was wrong, you’re fully a dumbass.”

“Nah, that’s Enz. But seriously, talk to him. We’re all tired of you pretending this isn’t something you want, whether you realize it or not.”

Theodore reluctantly nods, “fine. Fine, you’re right. I think I like my, what did you call him? Little badger?”

Mattheo grins and shifts away from Theo, looking a bit too happy for a man that just watched his friend cry over a crush.

“What are you so cheery about?” Theo raises an eyebrow as Mattheo gets up to return to the Astronomy Tower.

Mattheo throws a smirk over his shoulder as he lingers at the top of the stairs, “Enzo owes me a hundred galleons.”

“Wait! You two idioti bet on this?!”

Despite feeling somewhat better after his talk with Matt, Theo avoids you for the rest of the week. Come Wednesday morning, he’s sliding into the seat next to Mattheo in History of Magic, ignoring Enzo’s annoyed “Hey!” in protest and Mattheo’s side-eye.

He doesn’t turn around to see the disappointed look on your face as your books softly thunk on the desk behind him where you two usually sat. But he doesn’t miss the lack of usual flair the sound has. His heart aches.

“Riddle said you’d be in here.”

Your voice breaks through Theodore’s thoughts, pulling his eyes toward you walking up the steps and over to him.

He'd been finding himself coming back to the music room over and over again since he started avoiding you. He wasn't entirely sure why, maybe he just wanted to stop the dull ache of loneliness in the absence of you. He pushes the thought out of his mind.

You settle down on the rug next to him, jarringly similar to the position he'd been in with Mattheo a week ago. Only you were further away, and while he couldn't blame you, he hated it.

“Sorry for kissing you so suddenly, I just—I’d been wanting to for like a month and I guess I was hoping you wanted it too. I didn’t mean to scare you off.”

He quickly shakes his head, “no, don’t apologize, it was—I liked it. I’m sorry for running off like that. I think I got…overwhelmed. I didn’t exactly know I was, y’know, into guys before…you.” He forces it out despite his embarrassment, cheeks a light shade of pink.

You look at him with a small, somewhat sad smile, “it’s fine. Kinda reminds me of that day we properly met in Hogsmeade. You ran then too.” You pause briefly before adding, “and don’t worry about it, this is new for me too.”

Theo flushes more intensely at the memory as you turn your head to look around the music room. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in here before. Riddle had to give me directions...Why here?”

His mouth goes dry as he stares at you. “My, uh, my mum used to play the piano. She tried to teach me, but I couldn’t fully get it before…” he trails off for a moment before pushing past it, “I come here to feel close to her.”

A look of realization passes over your face, “oh, I—I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I don’t really like to talk about it.”

A hesitant hand reaches out to rest on his knee. He didn’t even realize he’d relaxed his legs down from his chest.

“We don’t have to talk about it, Teddy—”

He gasps at the nickname, soft and filled with raw emotion. “I want to.”

“She was… the only person I felt truly got me, before Mattheo at least. And she uh, she used to call me Teddy. So since she—” he hesitates, the finality of it all hitting him at once like it’s the first time he heard the news all over again, “since she died, I haven’t let anyone call me that.”

He sees the way your eyes soften further, but it’s not from pity, like he’d come to expect from the topic, no, it’s deeper than that. It’s empathy. “I didn’t know,” your voice is quiet, like you’re about to apologize, but truthfully that’s the last thing he wants. So he keeps speaking.

“She would have loved you.” His hand shifts to rest over yours, still on his leg. “She would have loved how…happy you make me. So, I want you to call me Teddy, please.” It comes out a bit more desperate than he intended, but when did anything ever go as planned when it came to you?

But you don’t run. You don’t look at him in disgust for showing emotion. You just nod with a soft, “okay Teddy.”

And god, that fluttering sensation is back. A small smile tugs on his lips; before he knows it he’s leaning forward, needing to be closer, as close as you’ll possibly let him. And this time, without any guilt or shame or fear, he kisses you.

And he feels like he’s drowning. Drowning in your lips, in your scent, in you. Like water filling his lungs, it burns so sweet. Surrender to the unknown, letting his lingering heartache and worries about his father’s expectations go until all that’s left is you.

It’s pure bliss.

As your lips move together in sync, his body heats up and he finds himself craving more. He’s just received a taste, but he can already tell he’s going to be insatiable; the need to devour you, to become one with your very essence, is overwhelming. But he doesn’t run away. He pushes deeper.

He feels your hand cupping his face, almost to steady yourself from falling over as his tongue brushes against your lips, begging, pleading for mercy. Like he’ll fall apart if you don’t let him explore every inch of you. Your lips part.

Tongues dancing together, he pushes you down until your back hits the rug, his torso hovering over yours as his hands on either side of you hold him up. Your fingers caress his cheek, touch featherlight.

The kiss lasts until neither of you can breathe, parting only to gasp and pant, inches from each other’s face. You suddenly laugh, a sweet sound that rivals the room’s quiet piano in its beauty.

“You’re still here,” your eyes search his, like you’re trying to find doubt in them, but there is none. He wants to kiss you like that for the rest of his life.

“I don’t think I’m scared anymore.”

Your arms coming up to wrap around his neck and pull him back into another kiss catches him off guard, but he melts into it like his body was made to meld with yours. It’s soft and sweet and feels like home.

The next morning at breakfast, you’re sitting next to him like you belong at the Slytherin table, at his side and getting acquainted with his friends. Enzo’s in the middle of asking you for details on which Hufflepuffs have the best weed when Draco comes over and sits down, an apprehensive look on his face. “I suppose this is something you just expect us to get used to?”

“Yes.” It’s Mattheo who speaks, grabbing a bit of toast off Draco’s plate and taking a bite. “He makes Theo happy, he’s one of us now as far as I’m concerned.”

Enzo pipes up from beside him, “I’ll do anything to never have to listen to Theo hopelessly pine like that ever again.”

Draco huffs and as Theo’s about to say something, he hears you laugh softly next to him as your hand gently squeezes his thigh. “Just gonna have to live with some yellow brightening your mornings, Malfoy.” The other two boys snicker at the defeated look on Draco’s face and start to tease him that he’s just jealous Nott grew a pair and managed to ask someone out. But Theo barely notices.

He presses a kiss to your temple, heart fluttering as you grin up at him and for the first time in a long time, he’s happy.

#theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x male reader #theo nott x male reader #slytherin boys #enzo berkshire #mattheo riddle #x male reader #mattheo riddle x theodore nott #a lil bit of #mattheo riddle x enzo berkshire #if you squint #bisexual #gay #theo nott x reader fluff #fluff #angst #angst with a happy ending #mykie fics

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opennwindows · 1 year ago

Note

If you can, could I request BEN Drowned fluff / smut headcanons like about himself, with his headcanon age, hobbies, facts, what he is into or would like & want in a relationship, and what he would be like with a gamer girlfriend/ s/o?

If ya taking requests rn still?✨😇😊💖

Ben Drowned general + NSFW hcs

A/N: yes!! absolutely. i love getting to talk about how the pastas do their pastaing in my mind. i have so many headcanons for everyone that im excited to share!! also sorry i forgot to include the gamer gf part but i don't think it would change a lot of what i wrote!!

btw sorry for fucking dying i have been busy 😭😭 but no one worry i will still continue to work on requests!! if anyone has any marble hornets stuff they wanna request i will zoom you to the front of the queue so fucking quick. anyways enough of me yapping.

cw: 18+ nsfw, toxic relationships, crying kink,

GENERAL

ben is mentally and physically 22, but he can be quite emotionally immature at times. when he died he never stopped growing and maturing, his soul was just stuck in limbo. think like the worst waiting room ever.

he's surprisingly tall, standing at about 5'9. he's lanky but not bone thin. could easily get pretty far in a fight without his ghost powers.

the link costume only appears when he’s in his ghost form. so for example, when he’s messing with someone on their computer he’ll appear as the canon BEN we’re most familiar with. when he’s just chilling in his physical body, he mostly wears beat up hoodies and sweatpants.

contrary to popular belief, ben's not the hardcore gamer everyone thinks he is. sure, he'll play some overwatch or whatever when he's bored but he honestly just prefers to watch tv and browse the internet. understandably REFUSES to play any zelda games. if you were trapped in a video game for decades would you ever wanna touch it again? exactly.

ben loves to draw little comics and troll (see: horrifically traumatize) people online. god forbid you get into twitter beef with this man because he will crawl through your monitor at 3am and leave you with a crippling fear of technology. dude thinks it's absolutely hilarious. a true knee slapper.

lowkey has a sugar addiction. will slam down 4 cans of pepsi in one sitting. he's very lucky that he's basically a ghost because the kidney stones would be plentiful.

ROMANTIC

you know that guy with the blown out speakers in his car, lives off of energy drinks and burnt blue razz ice elfbars, swears aphex twin is the modern mozart and works on the grill at your local wendy’s? yeah thats ben. or at least would be him if he was still human.

“why would you need a chair, my lap is literally right here babe.”

would absolutely wear your skin if given the opportunity. not in a weird way. he’s just EXTREMELY touchy.

he needs someone who is significantly more organized and motivated than him. he can go almost a week without showering and it should honestly be considered biological warfare when he tries to smother you with affection during these episodes.

after awhile of you guys dating he LOVES the idea of y’all showering together. he has a fear of water and while showers aren’t too much of a trigger, your presence helps ease his anxiety.

favorite pet names: bro, dude, dawg, babe, bitch (non derogatory)

not really a romantic but he tries his best. a perfect date for him is just getting some takeout, watching youtube, talking about stupid shit and play fighting. if you want something more traditional or extravagant then he’ll oblige to make you happy but those types of dates make him feel quite suffocated and nervous. try to save those for special occasions.

now let’s talk about his problems because just like the other creeps he is ANGSTY.

he’s probably the most emotionally stable and healthiest of the group but he definitely still has his toxic traits, after all this man is a ghost that mentally tortures and kills his victims through manipulation.

ben would never ever get physical with his partner no matter how enraged he is but he absolutely is the type to do some mental damage when he gets carried away. ben drowned? more like ben gaslighted.

the type to say some shit that would keep you up for years and then kiss you the next morning like the argument never happened. he finds it easier to ignore problems than to actively talk and fix them. you’re gonna have to teach him some important communication skills or else you’ll grow to resent him after all the bottled up rage.

a bit too brutally honest and blunt for his own good so if you have thin skin the relationship would fall apart pretty quickly. he wants someone who can drag him twice as hard as he dragged you. bonus points if your insults are consistently funny as hell.

please watch anime with him and discuss it. he would propose on the spot, especially if you play with his hair.

pro player tip: if you want him to clean his disgusting room, help him and make it fun! he just needs a little push and motivation at times. and being around you makes him want to get his shit together.

big fan of late night make-out sessions. i’m talking like 45 minutes straight of just slobbering on each other’s faces with tongues down throats. if you don’t want his hands running over every inch of your body then you’ll probably have to chain him to the wall.

NSFW

okay. so he’s a little inexperienced with his hands. he’s just a slow learner. be vocal with him about what you like!!

ben's about 7inches and slightly skinnier than average but he will have you seeing stars in record time. the dick game is no joke. he tends to go fast and deep most times.

i can see him being a switch in the idgaf-as-long-as-i’m-fucking way. dude will go with the flow and will try mostly anything.

definitely one of the least aggressive pastas during sex. he has sadistic tendencies but he’s more of a edge/overstimulate you until you cry versus a beat the shit out of you and rip hair out of your scalp type. he’s pretty vanilla given his occupation.

despite his love of roasting the fuck out of you on a daily basis, the only words that come out of this man’s mouth is heavenly praise. he looks at you like you’re the most gorgeous being on the planet and he’ll let you know it.

he loves to whisper praises into your ear while you ride him.

he's more of a receiver than a giver when it comes to oral. he'll absolutely spend hours between your legs if given the chance but nothing beats the sight of you on your knees and teary eyed with his length in your mouth.

he can be a bit of a head pusher but just let him face-fuck you every now and then, hearing his loud moans will be worth it.

did i mention how much of a crying kink this man has? you guys could be on round three and if he stares at your teary eyed fucked-out face for longer than 10 seconds he'll immediately get hard again. you'll have to beg him to give your poor body a break.

he's also into choking but only if he's the one doing it. if you try to restrict his breathing he'll panic and the mood would get ruined.

#creepypasta #creepypasta smut #celia reqs #creepypasta x reader #ben drowned #ben drowned x reader #ben drowned smut #ben drowned x y/n #ben drowned x you #ben drowned headcanons #ben drowned hcs #creepypasta headcanon

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adidastain · 10 months ago

Text

just you and me

90s matt stone x fem reader

warnings: implied smut, alcohol use

notes: first person perspective (I, me, my, etc.)

word count: 2217

—

“Oh, Trey! Ah!”

I looked over at the man sitting next to me. He was pinching his nose bridge, groaning slightly.

A laugh escaped through my nose as the sound of steady thumping filled the room. My friend and I were over at her boyfriend’s house to watch football, and she sort of ditched the living room with her boyfriend to go fuck upstairs. Now I was left alone with Trey’s roommate, Matt, who seemed just as awkward as me.

My friend practically screamed, before I could hear Trey shushing her. I shook my head and Matt took his glasses off to run his palms over his face.

“Jesus Christ,” he exhaled, laughing slightly. I giggled and stood up to make my way towards the kitchen.

“You want a beer?” I asked, rummaging through their refrigerator.

“No thanks,” he huffed, standing up as well.

Matt joined me in the kitchen to toss an empty beer can in the recycling. Their kitchen was quite small, so he sort of had to shimmy past me and I swear I felt our hips brush together.

“Can you hand me that cheese?” he said.

The only cheese I could see in the fridge was a little bag of shredded cheese, labeled “Four-Cheese Mexican Blend.”

I watched him as he poured a pile of chips onto a plate, before sprinkling cheese on top and throwing it all in the microwave.

“Did you see me on Master Chef last season?” he asked, grinning. Thumping continued steadily upstairs.

“I knew you looked familiar,” I said, playing along with his joke. Matt giggled and looked down at his feet, shuffling in his position.

I watched him nibble at his fingernails as silence filled the room. He seemed so shy all the sudden; I guess that was just from the fact that we didn’t really know each other and only just met a few hours ago.

My friend had told me about him a couple times and suggested I go out with him. I think she just wanted someone to go on double dates with. It sounded pretty ridiculous, but I guess after actually meeting him I’d maybe feel better about it.

He seemed like the funny type; I could tell he and Trey were practically inseparable. They were perfect for each other. But Trey was loud, and Matt definitely wasn’t.

“It’s been five minutes now,” Matt said, looking at his watch.

“They usually go for about twenty,” I added. “Supposedly.”

Matt laughed softly. He had a cute laugh, sort of. The gap between his front teeth really did a lot for him as far as charm went.

Suddenly, the microwave beeped and he presented his award-winning dish to me. The cheese melted into one big glob that bound a bunch of chips together as well.

“Nachos,” Matt beamed.

I giggled and rolled my eyes slightly. This guy was a total dork. My friend did tell me it was time I gave dorky guys a chance, since all three of my previous boyfriends were either jocks or models. But they all sucked, so maybe she was right.

Matt picked apart the glob of chips and cheese, snacking idly. He never went back to the couch though, so long as I was still in the kitchen. I could hear Trey groaning loudly above us, while my friend whimpered and moaned with each thud.

“Great game, huh?” I asked, breaking the silence so we wouldn’t have to listen to our friends having sex for the next, who knows how many minutes.

“Yeah,” Matt said. “The uh, Ravens are really kicking ass tonight.”

He somehow kept a straight face. I guess I was a little buzzed and delirious after having one beer, but to be honest, anything was funnier than listening to people fuck.

“I don’t know anything about football,” I admitted, picking at my fingernails.

“Me neither,” he snorted. “I like basketball. And hockey.”

“Hockey’s cool,” I agreed.

Silence again. Except for the thumping and creaking and moaning.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, gripping my face with my hands. I ran my fingers through my hair, leaning forward to sort of curl up like a shrimp.

“They always do this when she’s over,” Matt sighed, his voice hushed. “Wouldn’t you think, y’know… maybe they’d get bored of it?”

I threw my hands up. “Exactly!” I huffed.

“I guess I can’t really say anything, though,” he mumbled.

“Why not?” I asked, rubbing my forehead.

Matt bit his lip, staring down at his feet. “I wouldn’t turn down getting laid.”

“Well, duh,” I snorted. “But would you ditch your friend to have sex? At a stranger’s house?”

Matt shook his head.

“Exactly,” I whined.

“If you wanna leave, I can drive you home or something-“ Matt offered.

I shook my head. “It’s fine. They’ll be done soon. Hopefully.”

“Okay,” he laughed.

I sighed again, letting my gaze linger on him for a few seconds. I studied the way the fabric of his shirt hung from his shoulders, which were slightly slanted and very broad. The fabric caught on his collarbone and clung to the muscles in his chest, which weren’t huge, but still prominent. The rest of his body seemed to drown in the shirt; he looked skinny but his chest and arms were fairly toned.

Matt’s eyes caught mine and I actually blushed. He simply smiled like a dork. He really was quite cute…

That’s when I got my brilliant idea.

“Wanna make out?” I asked, taking a step towards him.

Matt’s eyes widened and he snorted. His body shifted to the side, shoulders shrugging as he stepped closer. “Sure.”

I bit my lip and carefully grabbed his hands, letting my body naturally gravitate towards his while I stared into his eyes. I could see now that he had dark green irises behind those big glasses.

Before I knew it, his lips met mine in a very gentle, ghostlike peck as he tested the waters. Matt reached up to caress my neck; his hands felt absolutely colossal in comparison to my slim frame. They were warm too.

I was shocked at how gentle he was being. We kissed so carefully, barely grazing each other’s lips and taking our time.

However, after moving my hands from his arms to his waist, I pulled him closer by the hips and stood on my tiptoes, attempting to deepen our kiss and build more passion between us. I wanted to feel his desire and see just how good he was at this.

It was then that Matt started holding his breath. As I kissed him deeper and opened my mouth slightly, I could feel his muscles tense up and he became hesitant to move. It seemed he focused most of his attention on moving his mouth in time with mine, strangled exhales escaping his lips every few seconds when we’d pull away in between kisses.

My hand slid up his torso to caress his face as I leaned back and looked into his eyes. His face was slightly pink and his lips were parted.

“You’re a pretty good kisser,” I smiled, glancing at his soft, warm lips.

Matt grinned, tooth gap on full display. “Not so bad yourself,” he said softly.

I let my hands fall to squeeze his biceps. “But you’re all tense,” I told him.

“Am I not allowed to be a little nervous?” he laughed sheepishly. “I barely know you.”

“Aw, you’re nervous,” I whispered. I kissed him again. “How sweet.”

“Yeah, kinda,” he said defensively. “You’re pretty.”

I hummed, pulling him back in to shut him up. This time I backed up so that the counter was digging into my hips and he could press his body against mine as hard as he could.

Matt grunted, before briefly pulling away. “Is it cool if I put my hand here?” he asked, placing his warm hand carefully on my waist.

I nodded, sliding my arms around his long neck to pull him back in. Once Matt had a good hold on my torso, I could feel a warm, tingly sort of sensation deep in the pit of my stomach. I could still hear thudding from above and I thought about quickly fucking this dork in the kitchen before they were finished upstairs. The thought was quickly pushed away, however.

“Mm… this feels dangerous,” he mumbled in between kisses. I could feel his lips curl into a smirk against my lips as he spoke, his warm hands massaging my waist.

“What do you mean?” I asked, panting softly.

“I might have a thing for you after this,” he exhaled. “You’re so good…”

I swear I didn’t mean to, but I let out a very soft, barely audible moan as he said this to me. The last thing I expected was for him to talk like that, but it kind of drove me crazy.

Fuck.

Matt pulled away and looked me in the eyes, seemingly flabbergasted by the sound I made. The eye contact was so intense. My heart was pounding in my chest, even faster than the thudding from upstairs.

Between the few seconds we spent staring at each other, Matt leaned closer and closer, letting his forehead rest against mine. It was oddly intimate, but I honestly loved it. Something about the fact that he was practically a complete stranger to me, yet still able to make me feel so flustered and anxious but comfortable at the same time, drew me closer to him. I felt need, like if I didn’t have him now, I’d never have him again.

I can’t believe I proved my friend right again.

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it. I can’t hook up with this guy here. Not right now. I felt insane for even thinking about it. I felt reckless.

My fingertip grazed over his lip, before leaning in to kiss him again, softly. I kissed him like I needed it to breathe, but not so much that I would die without it. Like I was kissing him just to kiss him. Taking time to breathe in between each kiss, letting my lips linger for a few seconds. The kind of kiss you’d share after having sex, when you’re exhausted and trying to catch your breath.

Eventually, we heard a loud, high-pitched whine echo from upstairs. We pulled away, giggling softly as the two lovebirds were seemingly finished doing their deed. Sadly, this meant my time with Matt was spent and I’d have to wait until our next meeting to do anything else.

“Hey,” he whispered, lifting my chin up so I’d look him in the eyes. “We should hang out sometime. Just you and me.”

I raised my eyebrows, laying my palms flat against his broad chest. “What would we do?” I teased, knowing damn well exactly what he had in mind.

“I dunno,” he giggled. “We’ll see how it goes.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Even if he was a sweet, dorky guy, he was still a guy. But who am I to judge? I almost tried to fuck him on his kitchen counter a few minutes prior.

“Okay,” I laughed.

Matt kissed me again, this time caressing my throat as he opened his mouth and licked my lips. I gasped and practically froze, immediately accepting the gesture by parting my lips and letting my tongue slide against his.

He tasted like tequila and the feeling of his hot, wet tongue against mine was absolutely intoxicating.

Unfortunately, after a minute or so, we heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and Matt let go of me. His warmth left with him and I felt cold as his body moved away. Aside from that, my face was on fire as my heart was racing and my lips still tasted like him.

Trey came downstairs alone, face probably just as flushed as mine and Matt’s. He let out a breathy “Hey,” before reaching inside the fridge to grab a cold beer. Matt and I responded in sync and I only felt my face grow warmer.

“Oh shit, Ravens are kicking ass. Sweet,” Trey said as he left the kitchen. I looked at Matt, who was biting his lip to stifle a laugh.

Eventually, my friend came back downstairs and we all gathered in the living room once again. Her and Trey were glued to each other of course, but instead of Matt and I sitting on opposite ends of the couch, I managed to squeeze in between him and the armrest.

Inevitably, my friend gave me that look, and I gave her the look. No words were said and none were needed. I couldn’t help but smile slightly, crossing my arms as I let my body ever so slightly lean towards Matt’s.

“When does hockey season start?” I whispered to him.

“It’s still going, I think,” he said quietly, looking down at me.

“Good,” I hummed, looking back towards the TV. Matt scoffed and I could feel him staring at me for a few seconds.

As the night went on and more drinks went around, my friend decided to sleep over with Trey, so Matt drove me home. Which was perfectly fine, because he ended up spending the night with me too. Though, to be honest, we spent very little time sleeping.

#i love dorky flirty matt #matt stone #fanfiction #fluff #x reader #baseketball #cannibal the musical #fem reader #mattrey #smut #matt stone x reader #trey parker #orgazmo

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