#merlin gives it back to her in waves

[justaz]

you know how aang took ozai’s firebending away?? what if merlin, emrys, magic incarnate, took morgana’s magic away? like he’s literally the embodiment of magic so can’t he take it back OR EVEN GRANT IT!!! idk bc i think it’d be neat. it would take her edge and power away so she’d be harmless and they’d be able to take her back to camelot to get some therapy before she gets it back

[theostrophywife]

poison paradise.

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: toxic by omido.

author's note: smutty unhinged theo won the poll. here’s your silly little treat. this came to me in a dream proving that even my subconscious isn't safe from theodore. this is pure filth, but ya'll already know that that's what i do best 🤪

The taste of cherry chapstick lingered on your tongue as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Lost in euphoria, you cried out just as a wave of pleasure crashed over you, dragging you to the depths of sensual self-indulgence. 

Back arching off the bed. Fingers gripping the sheets. Moans echoing off the walls. 

This was hedonism at its finest. 

The heady scent of sweat, skin, and sex permeated in the air long after your orgasm passed, inducing you into a foggy haze as you scrambled to anchor yourself back to the present. Between your legs, your girlfriend lifted her head up with a pleased smirk and pressed a chaste kiss against your lips. 

The kiss tasted like cum and cherries, a sweet and intoxicating combination that sent your head spinning. Hannah hummed, her pretty doe eyes focused on you while your own fluttered open. 

“Babe, I’ve really got to get to practice now,” she whispered softly. “I’m late enough as it is.” 

You chuckled, twirling a strand of her red hair between your fingers. “Whose fault is that? You’re the one who dragged me in here, love.” 

Hannah grinned sheepishly as she pulled your red and gold skirt down. “Can you blame me? I can’t control myself when you’re strutting about in your cheer uniform.” 

“Then go out there and give me something to cheer about, babe. I expect a win against Slytherin tomorrow.” 

“If Potter doesn’t kill me first for being late,” she said with a final kiss to your cheek. “See you after practice?”

You nodded as you tossed her jersey over. “I’ll be here.” 

After taking a much needed shower, you sat in front of the vanity and blasted music as you diligently adhered to your skincare routine. The best thing about having a girlfriend was that you shared everything. Since dating Hannah, your makeup, clothes, and shoe options doubled overnight. 

As you combed through your hair, a sudden knock at the door caught your attention. You figured it was just a courtesy from Hannah’s roommate. Merlin knows that the poor witch had walked in on you and your girlfriend in countless compromising positions. 

Tightening the scarlet robe around your waist, you sauntered over to the door, fully expecting Emma to greet you from the other side. Instead, a looming figure eclipsed the doorway. You were surprised to find none other than Theodore Nott staring back at you. 

While you two weren’t exactly the best of friends given the rivalry between your houses, you and Theo were civil. You sat beside each other in Herbology and occasionally shared a laugh every time you caught him muttering sarcastic remarks under his breath about the ridiculous bloody plants that Professor Sprout had you wrangling during class. 

“Well, what do we have here?” you teased, cocking your head at the dead eyed Slytherin. “A serpent in the lion’s den? What brings you behind enemy lines, Theo?”  

Theo smiled back in response, shuffling a bit and allowing a glimpse of the wine bottle and bouquet of roses cradled in his arms. “Waiting for my girlfriend to leave so I can set this up for our anniversary.” 

You grinned. “Oh, how romantic!” You had always been a sucker for cheesy gestures. It was the hopeless romantic in you.  “Come in, then.” 

To his credit, Theo kept his eyes firmly on your face as you ushered him inside the room. Taking the hint, you quickly excused yourself to the bathroom and changed into something a little less revealing than your silk robe. When you came out, Theo was sprinkling rose petals on the bed. 

“Those are gorgeous,” you fawned over the flowers. “You’re definitely getting laid tonight.” 

Theo smirked in response as he set the vintage wine bottle into a fancy crystal ice bucket. “That’s the plan.” 

Slipping into your fuzzy slippers, you cocked your head at the arrangement. “Wait. I think you set it up on the wrong side. Emma’s bed is over there.” 

Theo nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, I know. This is for Hannah.” 

Whatever warm, fuzzy feeling his sweet gesture invoked suddenly soured at the mention of your girlfriend’s name. “What do you mean it’s for Hannah?” 

“Hannah,” Theo repeated slowly. “As in, my girlfriend, Hannah.” 

The words hit you like the Hogwarts Express. Surely, Theo was mistaken. He had to be. That was the only explanation. “This can’t be right. I’m sure I heard you wrong. You can’t be dating Hannah.” 

The confusion in your face was mirrored in Theo’s features. “And why is that?” 

“Because I’m dating Hannah.” 

Theo stared at you. You stared back. The room fell silent as the declaration hung heavy in the air. 

“Wait,” he backtracked, furrowing his brows. “What? That’s not possible.” 

“We’ve been dating since term started.” 

“We’ve been dating since summer,” Theo countered. Disbelief dawned over his handsome features. “This is for our three month anniversary.” 

Desperate to make sense of the situation, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through your photo album. It didn’t take long to find a recent picture of you and Hannah. “See?” you said, pointing at the screen. “This is us sharing a hot fudge sundae in Hogsmeade just last weekend.” 

Theo’s mouth gaped open as he pulled out his phone in response, scrolling through his pictures just as you had done moments ago. “This is us swimming in the lake last July.” 

The photo of your girlfriend smiling up at the camera while Theo’s arms wrapped around her bikini clad body made your stomach plummet. The confirmation left a bitter taste on your tongue. There was no reason for Theo to be making this up, which left only one possible conclusion. Hannah was dating both of you. At the same time. 

You pursed your lips. “Hannah played us both.” 

Theo looked about as dejected as you felt. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize it,” he muttered to himself. 

“All that tension between you during the quidditch match,” you recalled. The lingering looks that Hannah and Theo shared during last month’s scrimmage flashed before your very eyes. In hindsight, it was obvious that there was more to it than rivalry. 

“You know, I think I saw her kiss you on the cheek in the halls once, but she said that the two of you were just really close.” 

“Oh, we are,” you said rather bitterly. “She’s kissed a lot more than my cheeks. Gods, how could I have been so stupid?” 

“You’re not stupid,” Theo said softly. “How could we have known? Outside of Herbology, the two of us don’t really interact. We’re in different houses and our social circles rarely overlap. If you think about it, it’s actually the perfect plan.” 

“Yes, bravo to our girlfriend for being the cleverest fucking liar in the castle.” You winced at the title. "Correction, ex-girlfriend."

Nott nodded in agreement. "Definitely ex-girlfriend."

"What a bloody mess."

Theo rubbed his temples. “Well, fuck.” The sentiment of total and utter confusion was one you knew all too well. “I am way too sober for this.” 

Without a word, he swiped the bottle of wine from the crystal bucket and popped it open. You stared at him with slight bewilderment, which he responded to with a nonchalant shrug. “What? It’s not like I’m going to drink this with Hannah now after I found out that she’s been lying to me for three whole months.” 

While Theo was taking the perfectly understandable approach of getting absolutely pissed off his arse, you weren’t willing to take the hit so easily. You were angry. Correction, you were fucking livid. Seething in the heat of your fury, you snatched the wine bottle from Theo’s grasp and chugged a good amount. 

“That’s a vintage from my family’s vineyard. You’re supposed to sip slowly to really appreciate the flavor—“ Theo grimaced as you leveled him with a glare. “Or drown yourself in it. That’s fine, too.” 

You swayed on your feet as you gestured dramatically. “I can’t believe she cheated on me!” 

Who the fuck did Hannah think she was? You didn’t need this bullshit. She was the one who chased after you. Before she pursued you, you were perfectly fine ruling this school under your thumb, flashing pretty smiles and innocent doe eyed looks to the unsuspecting masses. You were head cheerleader, for fuck’s sake! You could’ve had your pick of boys and girls in this whole bloody castle. Even worse, Hannah dragged Theo into this too. While the Slytherins certainly had a reputation, he seemed sweet if not a little sardonic and cynical at times.

”I can’t believe she cheated on you.” You added, surveying the now tainted roses and wine. Indignation weighed heavily on every word. You and Theo were both hot as fuck and a complete catch. Neither of you deserved this. “We can’t let her get away with this.” 

Theo sighed in response, taking the bottle from you and drinking a decent amount before wiping his wine stained lips with the back of his hand. “If I’m being honest, this isn’t the first time a relationship has imploded on me. Usually, it’s my fault. But I can’t say I’ve ever gotten cheated on. My ego’s taken a little bit of a blow, but what can we do? She fooled us both.” 

“What can we do?” You repeated incredulously. “Obviously, you haven’t dealt with a Gryffindor’s wrath before. This is a matter of pride, Theo. She hit us where it hurts the most. I say we hit her back.” 

Theo blanched, his watercolor eyes glazed from the alcohol. The wine was no joke. You never would’ve known it from the smooth taste, but this shit was strong. “As upset as I am, I hardly think violence is the answer. My mum told me to never raise a hand against a lady and I don’t intend on breaking that promise. No matter how angry I may be.” 

For the first time in that fucked up night, you managed a laugh. Something about that was so endearing to you. “Relax, Nott. I don’t mean we hurt her physically. That’s not really my style. I have a much more effective way to enact revenge.” Your lips curled into a smile as Theo hung onto every word. “We’re going to wage psychological warfare on our ex-girlfriend, Theo.” 

“I’ll confess I’m a little bit scared,” Theo declared as he gulped down the last of the wine. “And a little bit turned on. Guess that says a lot about me, huh?” 

You smirked as you retrieved the wine bottle and gingerly set it on the nightstand. Theo glanced up at you curiously, anticipation evident on his handsome face. “What exactly is the plan, dolcezza?” 

Whether it was the alcohol or your anger, a devious plan started forming as you looked over your ex-girlfriend’s now ex-boyfriend. “Hannah comes back from practice in an hour,” you stated, toying with the neck of the bottle. “She’s expecting to find me in bed waiting for her.” 

Mischief danced in Theo’s eyes. Up close, you could see flecks of green swimming in his blue irises. Those mesmerizing eyes—the very same ones that had the entire castle weak in the knees—locked on yours. Now that you were single through no fault of your own, you had no reason not to ogle Theo and ogle you did. Your gaze flickered over his lean physique, examining his solid chest and broad shoulders before snagging on the sliver of skin that revealed the hard abdominal muscles beneath his light grey shirt as he stretched. A cocky smirk graced his handsome face when he caught you looking.

Merlin, he was fucking pretty. 

How had you not noticed that before? Oh, right. You were too busy being a good girlfriend. Well, fuck that. 

“Oh?” He murmured, his gaze flickering over you. 

Though you changed into a baggy shirt and cotton shorts, you might as well have been naked with the way Theo was looking at you. His dead eyed stare burned holes into your skin and a shiver crawled up your spine as he gravitated closer. 

“And she will,” you said with a smirk, closing the gap between you. “You’ll just be in it with me.” 

“Oh,” Theo hummed salaciously. 

“Wouldn’t wanna waste those pretty roses you got, do we?” 

The low rasp of your voice seemed to entrance Theo as he shook his head, appearing dazed as you pulled him in by the front of his shirt. “No, no at all. We should…” The nervous bob of his Adam’s apple sent a thrill through your body. “We should definitely make use of them.” 

With a grin, you led him towards the bed. Theo walked backwards, his eyes never leaving yours even as he landed on the mattress. The golden glow of the lamp kissed his sharp cheekbones, its warm hue coloring the slope of his nose, which were smattered with moles and freckles, before emphasizing his wine stained lips. The red roses fluttered around him as the bed dipped, soft petals tickling his skin as he settled against the headboard.

Theo felt like he was under a spell as you crawled over him. He couldn’t tell whether he was dizzy from the wine or if it was just the effect you had on him, but either way, he wasn’t complaining. There were worse things to suffer from than a pretty witch straddling his lap. 

Instinctively, Theo gripped your waist while you settled over him. The sight of you leaning over him, your face mere inches away from his felt like a fever dream. One that he had no desire of waking up from. 

“I thought you liked girls,” Theo whispered softly as your lips brushed over his. Teasing, taunting, tasting. Fuck, what he would give to have you devour him whole. 

“I do,” you replied, tickling his cheek with a rose petal. Theo shivered as the low rasp of your voice pulled him in. “But I like boys too. Especially pretty ones like you.” 

Theo couldn’t help but blush. Obviously, he was aware that he was attractive, but he’d never been called pretty before. He was surprised to find that he really fucking liked it. 

“Don’t flatter me, dolcezza. Not unless you plan on following through.”

“I’ve never been with a Slytherin before,” you whispered huskily. “Tell me, Theo. Will you sink your teeth into me tonight?”

A part of him pondered the slightly fucked up situation that Theo managed to get himself into tonight. Was he really about to fuck his ex-girlfriend’s ex-girlfriend in her own bed? Yes. Did he feel an ounce of guilt over what he was about to do? No. 

Honestly, fuck Hannah. But more importantly, Theo needed to focus on fucking you. 

“Fuck yes.”

When you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, it was over. There wasn’t a single trace of self control in him as he kissed back, his mouth hot and eager against yours. The infamous Gryffindor boldness didn’t disappoint as you moaned into his mouth, your fingers threading through his silky brown waves before tugging in a way that made Theo weak in the knees. As he parted your lips with his tongue, you grinded against him and laughed seductively when he whimpered in response. 

“Yeah?” you purred as you rolled your hips. “You like that, pretty boy?” 

“Bloody fucking hell,” Theo groaned before he kissed you again, rougher this time. 

There was something satisfying about the way he grabbed you, his big hands guiding you to grind over him, providing a delicious friction between your clothed sex. Theo was hard and throbbing underneath you. By the feel of him, you knew you were in for a ride. The sheer size of him was going to absolutely destroy you. 

You pulled away and a glistening trail of spit extended between you as a result of your sloppy make out. Theo panted as you tugged at the hem of his shirt, keeping your eyes trained on him while you licked a path down his abdomen. He watched hungrily as you grazed your teeth over his hard muscles, flicking your tongue expertly while he shuddered underneath you. 

“I can see why Hannah went for you,” you hummed against his tan skin. “You’re hot as fuck. Your abs are unreal and your happy trail,” Theo groaned as you pressed soft kisses along his torso. “It leads to something delicious, doesn’t it?” 

“Fuck, bella. You’re killing me,” Theo groaned as he fisted your hair in one hand. The whimper that slipped past his lips as you palmed his cock was utterly shameless. “You’ve got a filthy fucking mouth, Y/N.” 

“Yeah? Shut me up, then.” 

His head lolled back against the headboard as you released his cock from his boxers, stroking purposefully and savoring the filthy moans that echoed against the walls. Those pretty eyes of his were nearly black with lust as he looked down at you, biting his lip while your tongue swirled over the head of his cock. Licking up his precum, you smirked before fully wrapping your lips around him. 

Theo tugged at your hair and bucked against your mouth as you sucked, licked, and pumped every inch of his thick, hard cock. You knew you were good, but the desperation in Theo’s voice all but confirmed it. 

“Dio mio, right there. Fuck, you’re perfect. Your throat was made to be fucked. You can take it, bella. Choke on my cock, just like that.”

You gagged as he hit the back of your throat. Sucking dick had never been your favorite, but sucking Theo’s dick was something else. He looked so pretty with his waves plastered to his forehead, rosy cheeks flushed as he fucked your face with a dominance that had you growing wetter by the second. Tears streaked down your cheeks as you choked on his cock, but it was worth every second to hear Theo moan your name. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” hissed Theo after a particularly rough thrust. You could tell he was close by the way his body seized underneath you, but you weren’t done with him yet. You wanted more and so did he. “So fucking close, but I don’t want to come yet. I need…Fuck, I need more.” 

You released him with a pop, but kept stroking him with your right hand. “Use your words, pretty boy.” 

“I want to feel you,” Theo whined. “I need to feel your pussy clenching around my cock, principessa. I need you so fucking bad. I’d get on my knees to be inside of you. Please.” 

“You sound so pretty when you beg,” you said as you kissed his temple. “Who am I to refuse?” 

Theo watched as you shuffled above him, barely breathing as you slipped out of your clothes. When you threw your shirt off, Theo cursed to find you completely bare before him. He cupped your tits, flicking his thumb over your nipples before wrapping his lips around them. You could tell he was eager to please and that alone was a huge fucking turn on. It was rare to find a man who cared about pleasure beyond his own, which is why you usually preferred women. Theodore Nott seemed to be the exception. 

With rapt attention, Theo helped you lower down onto his length. He kept his eyes on you as you adjusted, gasping when your walls stretched to accommodate his size. 

“You know, I thought the rumors about you were exaggerated,” you groaned as you sank lower. “But I’ve never been so glad to be wrong.” 

Theo smirked as he nibbled at your earlobe. “What kind of rumors, dolcezza?” 

“That you had a huge dick,” you responded, sounding slightly winded once Theo was finally fully sheathed inside of you. “And that you fuck like a—“ You moaned when Theo shifted his hips to rut into you. He was so big that the minuscule movement felt like you were being split apart. 

“That I fuck like what, bella?” 

Never one to be outdone, you tugged at his hair and grinded against him. “That you fuck like an absolute demon.” 

“Yeah?” He drawled, sliding in and out of you with a cocky smirk. “Well, you’re no angel either, Y/N.” 

“You haven’t seen anything yet, Theo.” 

The sight of you bouncing on his cock and riding the fuck out of him was almost too much. Theo was mesmerized as you used him to get off, head thrown back as you placed your hands on either side of his legs before bending in an angle that he wasn’t even sure was possible for a human to contort to. 

Damn, he should’ve fucked a cheerleader sooner. He should’ve fucked you sooner. 

“I guess you’re not the only one who listened to the rumors. They said you were flexible, but goddamn, this is something else. You’re something else, Y/N.” 

“Oh fuck, Theo,” you keened as you gripped the sheets. “You’re so big. It feels so fucking good, baby.” 

“I like the way you moan my name,” he said. “Gods, I could’ve had this all along. Why was I even wasting my time with Hannah? Sei una fottuta dea.” 

“I have no idea what you just said,'' you panted, picking up the pace. Your legs ached from the effort, but it felt too good to stop. “But I’m soaked now.” 

“I said,” Theo grunted as he fucked up into you and tugged your hair back. “You’re a fucking goddess, Y/N.” 

When he rubbed circles on your clit, you absolutely lost it. The room spiraled around you as you came hard, creaming Theo from tip to base. He pulled out suddenly, making you whine at the loss of contact until he replaced his cock with his mouth. Theo flattened his tongue, licking up along your soaked folds. His nose brushed against your already sensitive clit and you cried out as he lapped you up like a man starved. 

“Can’t take anymore,” you whined, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes as you pushed against Theo’s broad shoulders. “It’s too much. I’m so sensitive.” 

Theo gripped your ankles and spread your legs wider. “Where’s that Gryffindor bravery, bella?” He chuckled, tracing circles on the inside of your thighs. His mouth glistened with your cum and rose petals stuck to his skin as he looked up at you. “Surely you can take more. We barely just started. I want you drenched in tears. Shaking, crying, and moaning my name. Right now, you’re not even close.” 

He sucked on your clit and you swore to Godric your eyes rolled back so hard that you saw heaven. Theo was determined to drive you to the brink of insanity. “I know you want it, baby. Let me make you feel good.” 

“Oh gods,” you cried out as he filled you with two fingers. It wasn’t as much of a stretch as his cock, but the way he curled them inside of you, touching that sensitive spongy spot within your walls made you whimper all the same. “Fuck, yes, gods. I want it. I want you, Theo.” 

A satisfied smile graced his handsome face before Theo flipped you over, pressing you headfirst into the pillows as he feasted on your pussy from behind. There wasn’t a single thought in your head as he unraveled you with his tongue and fingers. It was a deadly combination that had you on the edge quicker than you thought possible. 

“Turn around, principessa,” Theo cooed. “Come ride my face.” 

For Godric’s fucking sake. The man was absolutely insatiable. You liked to think that you had excellent stamina. Most of the time your partners struggled to keep up with your pace, but Theo was seriously challenging that. You didn’t know if you could come three times in a row without passing out, but tonight was as good as any to find out. 

Theo rewarded you with a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss before positioning your thighs on either side of his head. You held onto the headboard above him. Part of it was for balance, but mostly to keep yourself from collapsing all together. You felt so overstimulated that the line between pleasure and pain was blurring by the minute, but still, neither one of you had any plans of stopping. 

At this point, you actually couldn’t give less of a fuck about revenge. Hannah had long become a thing of the past. It seemed ironic that you and your ex-girlfriend were in this exact position mere hours ago yet you couldn’t even recall anything past the Slytherin fucking you with his tongue. 

“Theo, oh my fucking gods,” you cried out as you grinded against his mouth. “Right there. Yes, that’s it. So good.” Theo squeezed your thighs in response, which elicited a hoarse laugh out of you. “You like when I praise you, pretty boy?” 

Theo hummed against your clit and squeezed your ass in confirmation. “You’re so pretty when you’re eating my pussy,” you cooed, brushing his wavy locks back. “But you’re even prettier when you’re fucking me.” 

That seemed to be all the encouragement Theo needed. Before you knew it, your back was against the mattress as he hiked your legs over your shoulder. Theo slipped in easily, thanks to the juices coating both his tongue and cock now that he was filling you up again. 

“How’s the view now, principessa?” Theo asked with a cocky smirk. 

You bit your lip as he pounded into you, holding your gaze with every sharp thrust. His tanned skin glistened with sweat and his muscles flexed while he buried himself inside of you again and again, watching you take all of him with rapt attention. His balls slapped against your ass every time his hips snapped to yours, drilling so deep that you struggled for words.

“The best in the castle,” you quipped back, putting on a serene smile as Theo grunted and fucked any and every coherent thought right out of you. 

Neither one of you noticed the door opening nor the sound of the broom hitting the floor. You were too busy staring into Theo’s pretty eyes to care. 

He turned your head towards the door, but didn’t stop fucking you as Hannah watched with her mouth hung wide open. Theo made sure that your ex-girlfriend had a clear view of the money shot as he claimed you with his mouth, moaning your name against your lips as he came with a loud cry. He filled you to the brim and you could feel him leaking out of you and onto the sheets as your eyes rolled back.

Theo collapsed on top of you, sweaty and sinful. As you lay boneless and blissed out of your mind, you couldn’t quite believe that you’d just fucked your ex-girlfriend’s ex boyfriend. In her own bed, nonetheless. If that wasn’t poetic justice, you didn’t know what was. Merlin, you hadn’t gotten shagged like that in—well, ever. The Slytherin really knew how to slither in. You lifted your head to find Theo already looking at you. When you made eye contact, the two of you burst into laughter.

Your ex-girlfriend, on the other hand, was not as amused. “What the fuck!” Hannah screamed. 

Her shrill voice brought you out of the post haze aftermath of your earth shattering orgasm. Completely unbothered, you stretched lazily and waved your fingers at Hannah. Theo smirked as he tugged his sweatpants back on, but opted to remain shirtless as he pulled his oversized shirt over your head like a proper gentleman. You were grateful, since you had absolutely no desire to walk around in your ex-girlfriend’s clothes. Plus, it didn’t hurt that Theo looked absolutely delicious from the afterglow.

You bit your lip, already thinking of all the ways you’d like to have him. Again and again. As often as possible.

With a little smile, you met Theo’s gaze. It was clear that neither of you had any intention of calling it an early night. You had a feeling that you had a lot of sleepless nights ahead of you. Theo looked like he wanted to tear you apart and you were more than willing to let him. “My dorm?” 

“Whatever you say, dolcezza,” Theo said as he slipped his fingers through yours. “You could lead me off the astronomy tower and I’d follow.” 

Theo didn’t bother looking at Hannah as the two of you passed her. You, on the other hand, couldn’t pass up the chance to get the last word in. 

“By the way, we’re breaking up with you. Have fun cleaning up the mess.” 

Theo chuckled darkly as he tugged you out into the hallway, smacking your arse as the two of you raced back to your dorm. Behind you, your long forgotten ex-girlfriend gaped as she watched her ex-girlfriend and ex-boyfriend walk away hand in hand.

[sadnymi]

Mastermind

[Mattheo riddle x reader]

Summary: Lady Whistledown and Gossip Girl [ Hogwarts Version] had taken the school by storm. Every week, spoken letters delivered the latest rumors, and things were getting out of control. Y/N had finally had enough, especially when the latest gossip claimed she was dating Mattheo Riddle. Frustrated and determined to put an end to it, she went to Mattheo, asking for his help in uncovering the person behind the relentless rumors and stopping them once and for all.

Words: 15k

Warnings : fluff, smut smut smut don’t read in public you have been warning , biker boy mattheo [yes a warning] , a little angst, fluff .

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**The Daily Whisperer: Hogwarts Edition**

_Issue #47: The Gossip of the Week_

Hogwarts is buzzing with the latest speculation surrounding two of our most enigmatic students. You guessed it—Y/N Y/L/N and Mattheo Riddle.

Rumor has it that sparks are flying between these two, and if they aren't already an item, then Merlin’s beard, they definitely should be! A sighting in the library, some lingering glances in Potions class, and let’s not forget that mysterious detention they both just _happened_ to land in last week. Could this be the beginning of a legendary Hogwarts love story? But that's not all! This week’s flying letters brought us another sizzling scoop: Y/N was seen practicing dueling spells with Mattheo, and let's just say, the sparks were flying—literally. Could this be a sign of something more than just friendly competition? Stay tuned, dear readers. We’re on the case!

In other news, Y/N has been making waves not just in the rumor mill but in the academic arena as well. This ( whatever house you’re in, darling Y/N!) has been impressing professors and students alike with her spellwork and potions prowess. Is there anything she can't do? We'll keep you posted on her latest achievements and, of course, any further developments in her relationship status with a certain handsome Slytherin.

Until next time, keep your wands at the ready and your ears to the ground!

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I could feel the heat of a hundred eyes on me as I stormed through the hallways, clutching the latest edition of "Hogwarts Whispers" in my hand. My anger was palpable, a tangible force pushing people aside as they gawked at me. As I turned a corner, a group of Hufflepuffs quickly scattered, clearly not wanting to be on the receiving end of my wrath. My anger flared hotter. Who had the nerve to spread such nonsense? And why did it have to be always about _me_?

Finally, I spotted him. Mattheo Riddle stood by the entrance to the Great Hall, casually leaning against the wall like he didn’t have a care in the world, his dark hair falling effortlessly into place as he exchanged easy banter with his friends. Typical.

I marched up to him, my footsteps echoing off the stone walls. His friends wisely took a step back as I approached, but he merely glanced over at me with that infuriating smirk of his, clearly amused by my arrival.

“Riddle,” I said, my voice clipped.

“Y/L/N,” he replied, raising an eyebrow in a way that made it impossible to tell if he was mocking me or just genuinely interested.

“We need to talk.”

His smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “We need to talk?”

I huffed in frustration. “You didn’t read what that freak wrote today?”

“No,” he said slowly, his eyes scanning my face for any clue. “But does that have anything to do with why people are looking at us like we are about to say our vows?”

Resisted the urge to roll my eyes, instead grabbing his hand and pulling him down the hallway. “Come on.”

He chuckled under his breath, clearly enjoying the situation more than he should. But I didn’t care. I wasn’t about to have this conversation in front of the entire school. The last thing I needed was to give those gossipy little owls more fuel for their fire.

I could feel his gaze on me as we walked, his hand warm in mine, and for a brief, fleeting moment, I wondered if there was any truth to what they’d written.

But I shoved that thought aside as we reached a secluded corner. I had a bone to pick with him, and I wasn’t about to let a few stray butterflies distract me.

“What are we going to do about this?” I demanded as soon as we were out of earshot of anyone else.

He just grinned, clearly unfazed. “What do you mean, Y/N? Sounds like we’re the hottest topic in school.”

My glare deepened. “This isn’t funny, Mattheo.”

“Maybe not.”

“This is absolute bullshit!” I fumed, waving the gossip letter around like it was cursed. “Why would anyone write this? Why is it always about me? Every. Single. Week!”

Mattheo leaned casually against the wall, his arms crossed, watching me with that maddening smile on his face. He didn’t seem the least bit concerned, which only fueled my irritation further.

“And then they say I’m dating you?” I threw the letter on a desk, feeling my pulse racing. “Are they insane? Where do they even get this stuff?”

He chuckled, that deep, velvety sound that always seemed to get under my skin. “I’m trying so hard not to take that personally, princess.”

I shot him a glare. “Shut up, Riddle.”

But he didn’t stop smiling, just kept leaning against the wall, looking at me like he was thoroughly enjoying the show. My frustration bubbled over. “Why are you so calm about this? This is serious! People are staring at us in the hallways! It’s like they’ve all got nothing better to do than imagine some ridiculous romance between us.”

“Well,” he drawled, pushing off the wall and taking a few steps toward me, “can you blame them? You’re not exactly easy to ignore, Y/N.”

I rolled my eyes, exasperated. “This isn’t funny. We need to find out who’s behind this, and you’re going to help me.”

Mattheo pushed himself off the wall, taking a step closer to me. "You want me to help you track down the identity of…" he paused, a playful glint in his eyes, "Madam Matchmaker?"

"Yes," I said, narrowing my eyes. "Would you do that?"

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "I would never say no to my girlfriend."

"Shut up, Riddle." I stared at him, my heart skipping a beat despite the anger still boiling inside me. "I’m not your girlfriend," I insisted, my voice lacking the conviction I’d hoped for.

He raised an eyebrow, his expression smug. "That’s not what the whole school is saying."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t ignore the way his words sent a shiver down my spine. "Shut up, Riddle."

"Don't you see how ridiculous this is?" I asked, exasperated.

He tilted his head, still not breaking eye contact. "Oh, I see it, alright. But I've got to admit, I don't mind being linked to you, Y/N. It gives me an excuse to spend more time with you."

"Shut up, Riddle."

He laughed, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "You know, if you keep telling me to shut up, I might just have to find another way to occupy my mouth."

"You… you’re —-!"

"And yet, here you are, asking me for help. You must like something about me, Y/N."

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. "I like the idea of you doing something useful for once. Now, are you going to help me or not?"

He straightened up, still smiling but with a more serious glint in his eyes. "Of course I’ll help you. But you owe me one."

"Fine," I grumbled, though I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of my mouth.

The next day, I stormed into the Great Hall, clutching a rolled-up piece of parchment in my hand. I barely noticed the whispers that trailed behind me as I made a beeline for the Slytherin table, my eyes locking onto Mattheo, who was lounging back in his seat, looking completely unbothered by the chaos swirling around us.

I slammed the parchment down in front of him, making a few Slytherins glance over in curiosity.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“It’s a list,” I said, taking a seat across from him and ignoring the way his friends were watching us with interest. “A list of suspects. I’ve narrowed it down to a few possibilities, and we need to figure out who’s responsible.”

Mattheo’s eyes flicked to the parchment, then back to me, clearly intrigued. “Go on.”

I pointed to the first name on the list. “First, there’s Carla knight. She’s always had it out for me ever since that incident in Potions last year. You know, she’s been looking for a way to get back at me ever since, she’s petty enough to spread rumors, and she’s got the connections to get them published.”

“True,” Mattheo mused, leaning back in his chair. “But Carla’s too obvious, don’t you think? She’s not exactly subtle.”

“Maybe,” I conceded, moving on to the next name. “Then there’s John Gary. He’s always been the quiet type, but that just makes him more dangerous. He’s close to the source, and he’s smart enough to cover his tracks.”

Mattheo nodded, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Interesting."

"What about Lavender Brown? She’s always gossiping, and she’s got this diary she carries around everywhere. What if she’s the one writing this stuff down and sending it off to ‘Hogwarts Whispers’?"

"Lavender’s a possibility," Mattheo admitted, his eyes flicking back up to meet mine. "But she’s more into writing about her own love life than anyone else’s. I doubt she’d be focused enough to keep tabs on us."

I grumbled under my breath and tapped my quill against the parchment, staring at the remaining names. "Then who could it be? I’ve gone through almost everyone who’s likely to be involved in this kind of thing, and none of them make sense!"

Mattheo didn’t respond immediately, and I looked up to find him just staring at me, a small, almost secretive smile on his lips.

"What the hell are you doing? Were you even listening?" I demanded, feeling my frustration rise again.

His eyes flicked over my face, lingering on my lips for a moment before he finally spoke. "Oh, I was listening, princess. It’s just hard to focus when you’re looking so damn determined. It’s… distracting."

My heart did a little flip, but I shoved that feeling down and crossed my arms. "This is serious, Riddle. Someone is spreading lies about us, and you’re just sitting here, smirking like it’s all a joke."

He chuckled softly, his eyes still locked on mine. "I’m not laughing at you. I’m just appreciating how hard you’re trying to solve this little mystery. It’s kind of… sexy."

I felt my face heat up, but I wasn’t about to let him derail me. "Stop with the compliments, Mattheo. This is important."

"Sure."

"Shut up, Riddle. I’m serious."

"So am I," he said smoothly, leaning back in his seat, his gaze still locked on mine. "But if you want to focus on this little mystery instead of the much more interesting topic of us, then go ahead."

I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the way his voice sent a shiver down my spine. "Fine. If you’re not going to help, then at least don’t make this harder than it already is."

Mattheo’s smirk grew as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "You know, Y/N, there are easier ways to spend time with me than concocting elaborate schemes to solve a mystery that might not even have a culprit."

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. "What are you talking about?"

He shrugged casually, his eyes never leaving mine. "Maybe someone’s just trying to push us together, and it’s working. Ever thought about that?"

"Shut up, Riddle," I snapped, though my voice lacked its usual bite.

He chuckled, his gaze never leaving mine. "Only if you make me."

I reached out to smack his arm. "Stop acting like that. This is serious!"

In a flash, Mattheo’s hand shot out, catching my wrist with a firm but gentle grip. His smile was both mischievous and reassuring as he looked at me. "Alright, but only because you’re so charming when you’re worked up."

I pulled my wrist free, trying to hide the flush creeping up my cheeks. "Just—stop distracting me. I need to figure out who’s behind this before it gets any worse."

Mattheo leaned back, still watching me with that unnerving mixture of amusement and interest. "Indeed, lead the way. I’m all ears."

For the rest of the week, I was on a mission. Every day, I dragged Mattheo around the school, from the library to the common rooms, and even to the less frequented corners of the castle. Despite his usual nonchalance, Mattheo followed along without question, his only response being that knowing smile he always seemed to have when he was around me.

We spent hours poring over potential suspects, analyzing their motives, and investigating their whereabouts. Each time I got frustrated or hit a dead end, Mattheo would patiently listen, never interrupting, and only offering occasional comments that were either strangely insightful or just plain distracting.

As we walked through the dimly lit corridors of the castle, I finally vented my frustrations. "This is ridiculous. I’ve talked to nearly everyone I can think of, and no one seems to know anything. It’s like we’re running in circles."

Mattheo’s hand brushed against mine as he walked beside me, and I could feel the warmth of his touch even through our robes. "Maybe you’re looking too hard. Sometimes, the answer isn’t in what people say but in what they don’t."

I sighed, feeling the weight of the week’s frustration pressing down on me. "I just don’t get it. Why would someone target me like this?"

He glanced at me, his expression softening. "Maybe they’re trying to get a reaction out of you."

His words, though comforting, did little to ease my worries. I shook my head and kept walking, the silence between us stretching as we turned another corner. "I don’t know how you manage to stay so calm about all this. I’m losing my mind trying to figure this out."

"You’re doing great."

"Thanks, Mattheo."

He flashed me a reassuring smile. "Anytime. Besides, it’s been… interesting, spending all this time with you. I’d say it’s been the highlight of my week."

I raised an eyebrow, giving him a wry smile. "Oh, is that so? I’m glad to be your highlight, Riddle."

He grinned, his usual mischievous glint in his eye. "You should be. And if you ever need me to be a distraction! again, just let me know."

" I hope not."

As we turned another corner in the castle, Mattheo suddenly stopped, his expression shifting from his usual playful smirk to something more serious. "Go on a date with me."

I froze, staring at him in disbelief. "What?"

"You heard me," he said, leaning against the wall with that infuriatingly confident look on his face. "Let’s go on a date."

I blinked, trying to process his words. "Why would I—what are you even talking about? We’re supposed to be figuring out who’s spreading these rumors, not giving them more fuel for the fire!"

"Exactly," he replied smoothly, crossing his arms over his chest. "If we go on a date, we can see who’s watching us, who’s interested in what we’re doing. It’ll flush out the culprit. And with the weekend coming up, whoever’s behind this will be desperate for more gossip to spread. We’ll be able to figure it out, Y/N."

I shook my head, utterly incredulous. "Absolutely not. I’m not going on a date with you."

"Why not?" he asked, his smirk returning as he stepped closer, his presence as magnetic as ever. "It’s the perfect plan. We’ll be able to spot who’s paying too much attention to us."

"Because," I stammered, feeling my heart race as he closed the distance between us, "it’s ridiculous! You’re just trying to mess with me. I know you, Mattheo. You don’t actually care about solving this, you just want to—"

"Want to what?" he interrupted, his voice low and teasing. "Think about it, Y/N. We go out, see who’s watching, think of it as an experiment. A way to gather evidences. You like evidence, don’t you?"

"I’m not going on a date with you. I refuse to give these gossips exactly what they want. I’m not some pawn in their game, and I’m certainly not going to parade around with you just to see who’s got their eyes on us."

He just kept smiling, his eyes locked onto mine with that infuriatingly calm, knowing look. "You keep telling yourself that, but deep down, you know it’s the best way to figure this out."

"No," I insisted, my voice rising slightly. "There’s no way I’m doing it. This is absurd, and I’m not falling for it. You’re just trying to—"

"Trying to what?" he echoed, taking another step closer until I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin.

I glared at him, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickened. "Shut up, Riddle."

He didn’t move, his smirk widening as his gaze held mine. "You tell me to shut up again, and I will kiss the fuck out of you, princess."

I froze, my breath catching in my throat. "What?"

"You heard me," he said, his voice smooth and deliberate, his eyes never leaving mine. "That’s the deal. You say it again, and I won’t hold back."

My face felt like it was on fire, and I could barely form a coherent thought as his words sank in. "You—you’re insane."

"Maybe," he replied, his voice low and full of intent. "But I always get what I want. And right now, what I want is to figure this out—with you."

I swallowed hard, my heart racing as I tried to gather my thoughts. "This is ridiculous."

"Is it?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, his gaze still locked onto mine. "Or is it just that you’re afraid you might actually enjoy it?"

I stared at him, my mind spinning as I tried to come up with a response. But the truth was, I was too flustered to think straight. His confidence, his intensity—it was overwhelming.

"This is stupid," I muttered, trying to muster up some semblance of defiance.

"That’s not a ‘no’."

I glared at him, my heart pounding in my chest. "But this is strictly for the sake of finding out who’s behind the rumors."

Mattheo’s grin widened. "Of course, princess. Strictly business."

I crossed my arms, trying to keep a lid on the flurry of emotions swirling inside me. "You have to behave, Riddle. No funny business, no flirting. Just… business."

"I’ll be on my best behavior."

I raised an eyebrow, trying to gauge if he was being sincere or just playing me. "Somehow, I doubt that."

He chuckled, leaning in slightly saying in a mocking tone. "Your doubt wounds me, Y/N. My favorite thing to do is to be a good boy for you."

I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at my lips. "Sure, whatever you say."

"So," he continued, ignoring my skepticism, "tomorrow, then?"

I hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah, tomorrow."

Mattheo’s gaze softened, though his smirk remained firmly in place. "Don’t be nervous. And try not to think about me too much tonight."

I scoffed, giving him a withering look. "In your dreams, Riddle."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, husky murmur. "Oh, believe me, darling. You’re in my dreams every night. But we’re not just talking in them."

My face burned as I smacked his arm again, harder this time. "I’m going to just kill you someday and stop the rumors you’re insufferable, you know that?"

He just laughed, clearly enjoying himself far too much. "And yet, you keep coming back for more."

"I don’t have a choice," I shot back, starting to walk toward my dormitory with him following close behind.

"Ah, but you do," he said smoothly, keeping pace with me. "And you’re choosing to be here with me. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?"

I ignored him, focusing on the corridor ahead, even as I felt his gaze lingering on me.

We walked in silence for a moment before he spoke again, his voice soft and teasing. "You know, tomorrow’s going to be fun. You’ll see."

I rolled my eyes, still facing forward. "If by ‘fun’ you mean torturous, then sure."

Mattheo’s laughter echoed through the corridor, warm and rich. "Torturous for you, maybe. But for me? It’ll be heaven."

I stopped in front of my dormitory, turning to face him. "This is where we part ways."

He stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with that familiar mischief. "For now. But you know, you can always invite me in if you’re feeling lonely."

Pushing him away lightly I said. "Not a chance, Riddle."

He grinned, completely unfazed. "Worth a shot."

I gave him a look, and for once, he seemed to back down. "Alright, alright. Sleep well, Y/N. And try not to think too much about tomorrow. Or about me."

I slammed the door shut in his face, cutting off his words, but I could still hear his low chuckle from the other side. Then I leaned against the door, trying to steady my racing heart.

I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’ve been on plenty of dates before, so why does this one feel different? I’ve had Quidditch players asking me out, and even the prince of Eldoria once tried his luck, but none of that made me feel as nervous as I am right now. And this isn’t even a real date. It’s just a… mission, right?

I stared at the mess of clothes strewn across my room, feeling utterly lost. Is this too much? Will I be overdressed if I wear it? Or is this too casual? And I can’t stop thinking about him—nope, we won’t do that. We won’t think about him or what he’s going to wear. Or not wear. No, absolutely not. We are not thinking about him without clothes. That can’t happen. I can’t stand Mattheo, right?

But why? Why can’t I stand him? I can’t remember anymore. Maybe it’s because he makes me feel so damn nervous? And I hate that. I hate losing control. I love having control over everything, and Merlin knows he wasn’t helping with that. It’s like every cell in my body is screaming, and I mean every single one.

I finally settled on a small black dress, letting my hair fall naturally around my shoulders. I added a touch of makeup and a simple necklace, convincing myself that I was doing this for me. It’s a good chance to get dressed up and look good—to myself, right? I always do. I’m a fashion icon, and I always dress well. Not for any certain someone with beautiful eyes and hair and a body that—nope, stop it, Y/N. We’re not going there.

I took a deep breath and walked out of my dorm, only to find Mattheo standing just outside my door, hand raised as if he was about to knock. He was dressed all in black, and oh, Merlin, that shirt was doing things to me.

His eyes slowly raking up and down my body. He wasn’t even trying to hide that he was looking, and when his gaze finally reached my face, it lingered on my lips before meeting my eyes.

"Matching," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach. "You always wear black or gray, It’s hardly a coincidence Mattheo."

His smirk widened as he took a step closer. "Oh, baby, so you were trying to match with me?"

"What? Of course not!" I shot back, but my voice sounded less convincing than I would’ve liked. He laughed, clearly enjoying my discomfort.

I glared at him, crossing my arms. "If you don’t stop, I’m going back inside and forgetting about this so-called date,"

He raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. "Okay, okay, I’m sorry. You look stunning, Y/N. Absolutely breathtaking. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to focus on anything but you tonight."

I rolled my eyes again, though I could feel my cheeks heating up. "You’re so insufferable."

"And you’re so beautiful," he replied smoothly, taking my hand in his. "Now come on. Let’s get out of here."

I allowed him to lead me out of the castle, my heart pounding harder with every step. "Where are we going?"

"You’ll see," he said, a hint of mischief in his voice. "I promise it’s something you’ll like."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "If you’re up to something, Riddle, I swear—"

"Oh, I’m definitely up to something," he replied, his voice dropping to a low murmur as he glanced over at me, his eyes darkening slightly. "But I think you’ll enjoy it. Maybe even more than you expect."

My breath caught in my throat, and I tried to keep my voice steady. "You’re not fooling anyone, you know."

"Who said I was trying to fool you?" he shot back, his grip on my hand tightening slightly.

I tried to ignore the way his words made my pulse quicken. "You’re being annoyingly cryptic, you know that?"

"It’s part of my charm," he replied , his thumb brushing lightly over the back of my hand. "And besides, it’s worth the suspense, don’t you think?"

I looked at him, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. "I think you’re enjoying this far too much."

He chuckled, his eyes darkening with a mischievous glint. "Oh, I am. But don’t pretend you aren’t, too."

As Mattheo led me down the dimly lit corridor, I couldn't help but notice the way his thumb was now tracing small circles on the back of my hand. The warmth of his touch sent shivers up my spine, and I fought to keep my thoughts from spiraling out of control.

My breath hitched slightly, but I forced myself to stay calm. "You’re really pushing it, Riddle."

"And you love it," he shot back, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear.

I pushed him away pretending to be annoyed it’s actually better to show him that I was so turned on. "Let’s just get this over with."

“Where are we going?” I asked, trying to inject some firmness into my voice, though it came out softer than I intended.

Mattheo glanced at me, a slow, almost predatory smile spreading across his lips. “Patience, darling."

I opened my mouth to retort, but the words got caught in my throat. The cool night air hit me like a wave, but it did little to quell the heat burning inside me.

“You look like you’re trying really hard not to think about what I’m going to do to you tonight,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing.

I froze, my heart skipping a beat. “What… what are you talking about?”

He chuckled softly, pulling me closer until our bodies were nearly touching. “Oh, come on, Y/N. Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about it. About what it would feel like.”

My breath hitched, and I couldn’t stop the rush of heat that flooded my body at his words. This wasn’t happening. I wasn’t letting him get to me like this. But when he stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on my hip, I could barely think straight.

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stammered, though it was clear even to me that I was lying.

“Liar,” he whispered, his lips brushing against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. “You’ve been thinking about it. And the best part? So have I.”

I blinked up at him, trying to form a coherent response when he suddenly smirked and pointed behind me. “Relax, darling. I was talking about the ride I’m going to give you tonight.”

I followed his gaze and saw a sleek black motorcycle parked nearby. “Wait… what?” I breathed out, my heart still racing.

His smirk deepened, and he raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “What were _you_ thinking about?”

“Nothing!” I shot back, far too quickly.

“Uh-huh,” he said, clearly not buying it. He started walking toward the bike, and I followed, my steps hesitant.

“What the hell is that?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at the motorcycle as if it had personally offended me.

He looked at me with exaggerated innocence. “This? It’s a bike. You know, that thing with two wheels that goes vroom?”

I glared at him, my patience wearing thin. “I know exactly what it is. I’m asking why you’re near it.”

He leaned against the bike, looking far too smug for his own good."Because we’re taking it for a ride, obviously."

“Mattheo, you didn’t… Where did you even get this from?” I asked, crossing my arms.

He grinned mischievously. “Stole it.”

My eyes widened, and I took a step back, ready to bolt. But then he laughed, shaking his head. “Kidding, darling. Just get on.”

I stared at him for a moment, debating whether I should turn around and walk back inside. But something about the way he was looking at me—challenging, teasing—made me pause. I cursed under my breath and reluctantly walked over to the bike.

As I approached, I couldn’t help but curse myself for wearing a dress. Of all nights, why did I choose tonight to be impractical? I awkwardly tried to swing my leg over the bike, careful not to flash him.

“Need some help there?”

“I’ve got it,” I snapped, finally managing to get on the bike without embarrassing myself too much.

He turned to face me, and suddenly, he was so close I could feel his breath on my face. His hands reached up, and he gently placed a helmet on my head, securing the strap under my chin. The simple act was far more intimate than it had any right to be, and I found myself holding my breath.

“You might want to hold on to me,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with suggestion.

I hesitated for a second, then wrapped my arms around his waist, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath my hands. “If you crash this thing, I’m killing you,” I muttered against his back.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through me. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ve got you.”

he started the bike, the engine roaring to life beneath us. I tightened my grip on him as we took off, the wind whipping through my hair. The cool night air rushed past us, but all I could focus on was the heat radiating from Mattheo’s body, the way his muscles tensed and flexed as he maneuvered the bike through the darkened streets.

“Enjoying yourself back there?” he called over the sound of the wind.

I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “Just keep your eyes on the road, Riddle.”

He laughed again, but there was a dark edge to it that sent a shiver down my spine. “Oh, I am. But I can’t help but think about how good you feel pressed up against me.”

My cheeks burned, and I was grateful he couldn’t see my face. “Shut up, Mattheo.”

" careful baby remember our deal?"

“Mattheo—”

“ Yes,princess?"

" don’t open your mouth please."

He laughed " Why? You don’t like it when I talk about how your hands feel on me? Or how I can feel every little movement you make?”

“No—”

“Or maybe it’s the way you’re clinging to me right now,” he continued, his voice dropping lower, more seductive. “Like you can’t get close enough. Like you don’t want this ride to end.”

I bit my lip, trying to ignore the way his words were making my heart race even faster. He was doing this on purpose, and damn him, it was working.

“Don’t get too full of yourself,” I shot back, but my voice lacked the bite I intended.

He slowed the bike down slightly, and I felt him lean back just enough to speak directly into my ear. “Too late for that, darling. You’re driving me crazy.”

My breath caught, and I tightened my grip on him, unsure if it was to steady myself or if it was because part of me wanted him to pull over.

“Mattheo…” I warned, but my voice was weak, trembling.

He chuckled, the sound dark and promising. “Relax."

Every time he took a sharp turn or sped up, my grip on him tightened, and he would laugh softly, his voice full of that infuriating confidence. “You sure you’re not nervous?”

“I’m sure,” I replied, though my heart was racing for more reasons than just the speed of the bike.

“Good.”

As Mattheo slowed the bike to a stop, I looked around and felt a jolt of unease settle in my stomach. The area was dimly lit, with groups of people loitering around, looking like trouble. The girls wore little more than scraps of fabric, their heavy makeup making their eyes look like dark smudges in the faint light. The guys weren’t any better—tough, dangerous, and clearly up to no good.

I turned to Mattheo, my voice tinged with irritation and confusion. “What the hell, Mattheo?”

He smirked, swinging his leg off the bike. “What? I thought you’d appreciate something different from the fancy dates you’re used to. Oh, remind me again, where did Prince Edward take you to?”

“He didn’t,” I snapped back, dismounting the bike as gracefully as possible while trying to keep my dress in place. “Because I turned the date down.”

Mattheo’s grin widened, a mocking edge to it. “How bad for him.”

I rolled my eyes, glancing around nervously. “There’s no one from school here, right? I mean, how is the gossip mill going to work if they don’t notice us?”

He leaned against the bike, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, they won’t.”

“Excuse me?” I shot back, incredulous.

He laughed, shaking his head. “They’ll be more likely to be notice here than some fancy place, don’t you think?”

I frowned but nodded reluctantly. “Probably, yeah. Any normal person would feel so out of place here.”

I was about to step off the bike when I felt his hands suddenly on my hips, his grip firm. “No, not like that, princess.”

“What?” I managed to say, my voice coming out in a breathless whisper as he effortlessly swung off the bike first. Then, without warning, he placed his hands on my waist again and lifted me off the bike as if I weighed nothing.

“I wouldn’t want anyone to get a look at the show I had a minutes ago,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine.

My face flushed crimson, and I struggled to maintain my composure as his hands stayed on my waist, guiding me toward the entrance. His touch was possessive, almost claiming, and I couldn’t help the thrill that shot through me despite the chaotic surroundings.

“So, do I need to keep my wand close?” I asked, half-joking, half-serious as we neared the group.

Mattheo chuckled, his breath warm against my ear. “You really think I’d let anything happen to you?”

As we walked through the crowd, people began to notice Mattheo, their eyes lighting up with recognition. A couple of guys came over, greeting him with casual nods and low murmurs.

“Riddle! Didn’t expect to see you here tonight,” one of them said, a tall guy with a crooked grin.

Another guy came up, clapping Mattheo on the back. “Good to see you, mate. Thought you’d ditched us for good.”

“Nah,” Mattheo replied casually. “Just been busy.”

“Yeah, thought you were too good for us these days,” another chimed in, smirking.

Mattheo just shrugged, his grip on my waist tightening slightly. “Can’t forget where I came from.”

Before I could process what that meant, a girl suddenly appeared, practically throwing herself at Mattheo. She had wild, dark hair and wore a top that could barely be called clothing. “Matty! I didn’t know you were coming tonight,” she purred, her hands already trailing over his chest. Then, she noticed me, her eyes narrowing as she looked me up and down, clearly sizing me up.

I met her gaze, lifting my chin defiantly as I looked her over. She was all beautiful and confidence, but something about her screamed desperate. I couldn’t help the surge of jealousy that flared in my chest. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” I snapped, crossing my arms.

The girl’s eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly recovered, her lips curling into a sneer. “Who’s this?” she asked Mattheo, her tone dripping with disdain.

Mattheo’s hand slid around my waist, pulling me closer to him. “She’s My girl,” he said simply, his voice cool and dismissive.

The girl’s eyes narrowed further as she gave me another once-over. I met her gaze head-on, refusing to back down. “Got a problem with that?” I asked, my tone sweet but laced with a clear challenge.

The girl hesitated for a moment, then forced a laugh, trying to play it off. “No, of course not,” she said, but her eyes were still cold. She turned back to Mattheo, trying to regain his attention. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”

“Well, now you know,” I said firmly, stepping closer to Mattheo as if staking my claim.

She shot me one last glare before reluctantly backing off, clearly realizing she wasn’t going to win this one. I watched her go, feeling oddly victorious, even as my heart pounded in my chest.

Mattheo’s low chuckle drew my attention back to him, and I looked up to find him watching me with an amused glint in his eyes. “Jealous, are we?”

“Absolutely not,” I retorted, though my face was still flushed.

“Right,” he drawled, clearly not believing me.

Mattheo guided me through the throngs of people, his hand never leaving my waist as we made our way toward a secluded area. The crowd seemed to part for him, everyone stepping aside as if they knew better than to get in his way. He led me to a corner of the warehouse where a small, dimly lit bar was nestled. The area was quieter, more exclusive, with plush leather couches and a polished wooden bar that gave it an air of importance.

“This is where the VIPs hang out?” I asked, raising an eyebrow as we stepped into the area. It was a stark contrast to the chaos outside—a private sanctuary within the madness.

Mattheo smirked, pulling out a barstool for me before taking a seat himself. “You could say that. Only those who matter get to hang out here.”

I settled onto the stool, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite the flutter of nerves in my stomach. “And I’m guessing you’re one of those people?”

He chuckled, leaning in closer, his gaze locking onto mine. “What do you think, Princess?”

“I think you like making a scene wherever you go,” I shot back, trying to keep my tone light despite the way my heart was racing.

“Maybe,” he admitted, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

The bartender, a grizzled-looking man with a permanent scowl, approached us, his gaze flickering over me before settling on Mattheo.

“Riddle,” the bartender said in greeting, his voice gruff. “Been a while.”

“Hey, Greg,” Mattheo replied, his voice casual. “How’s business?”

Greg grunted, grabbing a glass and starting to mix a drink. “Same old, same old. You finally got yourself a date, eh?”

Mattheo chuckled, his hand still resting on my thigh. “Something like that.”

Greg's eyes flickered over to me again, his expression a mix of curiosity and skepticism. He took in my dress and my slightly flustered demeanor, a wry grin tugging at his mouth. “She's a fancy one, ain't she?” he commented, continuing to mix the drinks.

“Yeah, that’s for sure,” Mattheo agreed, his hand caressing my thigh. “But she’s all mine.”

I suppressed a shiver at the touch, trying to act as nonchalant as possible as I shot Mattheo a glare. He just smirked in response.

"Noted." Greg set our drinks down in front of us, a shot of dark liquor for Mattheo and something orange and frothy for me. “On the house,” he said gruffly, before moving to serve other customers.

"Can you tell me why those people know you? And how the hell are you so well-known like a famous celebrity here?"

Mattheo takes a sip of his drink, a smirk playing on his lips as he contemplates my question. “I wouldn’t say famous, darling. But I’ve spent a lot of time here... Let’s just say I know my way around.”

I raise an eyebrow skeptically. “That’s not a real answer.”

He grins, clearly enjoying my reaction. “Oh, it's a perfectly real answer. You just don't like it.”

"And what about this girl?" I ask, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.

“That’s Layla. She’s part of this crowd… a regular here, I guess you could say.”

“And you… know her well?”

He shrugs, his hand going back to rest on my thigh. “We’ve crossed paths a few times, yeah.”

There’s something in his tone that makes me pause, a flicker of jealousy stirring in my chest.

He takes another sip of his drink, avoiding my gaze for a moment. “You’re full of questions today, aren’t you?”

I scowl at his non-answer. “You’re the one who keeps avoiding them.”

He lets out a soft laugh, his hand tracing lazy circles on my thigh. “I just like seeing you get all worked up, princess.”

“So what’s your definition of crossing paths?” I ask, pressing him further.

He pauses, seeming to consider his words carefully. “Layla and I have... hooked up a few times. Nothing serious, just casual stuff.”

My heart sinks, a mix of jealousy and disappointment flickering inside me. I try to mask it, though, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much it bothered me.

“And what about now? Is she still in the picture?”

His hand tightens slightly on my thigh, and I feel him tense for a moment. Then he turns his head slightly, his lips almost brushing mine as he answers, “No, she’s not.”

“Good,” I say, trying to keep my tone light, “because this whole act would be a lot less convincing if you were involved with more than one girl.”

Mattheo chuckles, the sound low and rich, as his fingers tighten their grip on my thigh, sending a jolt of electricity up my spine. “And here I thought you were just in this for the show,” he murmurs, his voice laced with amusement and something darker, more seductive.

“I am,” I say, my voice steady despite the rapid thudding of my heart. “But even in an act, there are rules.”

“Rules, huh?” He leans in closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as he speaks, his breath warm against my skin. “And what are those rules, princess?”

I bite my lip, fighting the urge to close the distance between us. I need to stay in control, to remind myself that this is just an act. “Like keeping your hands to yourself,” I whisper, but the words come out more breathless than I intended.

He chuckles again, a dark, knowing sound. “But where’s the fun in that?”

His hand slides further up my thigh, and I can feel the heat radiating from his body. My pulse quickens, and I struggle to maintain my composure.

“We’re supposed to be pretending,” I manage to say, my voice betraying the strain of keeping up the facade.

“Are we?” His lips graze the corner of my mouth, his words a challenge, daring me to keep up the pretense.

I turn my head slightly, our noses nearly touching, my breath mingling with his. “Yes,” I whisper, but it’s clear neither of us believes it anymore.

“So, just an act?” he repeats, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine.

I nod, barely managing to keep my composure. “Just an act,” I reply, though the words feel like a lie.

He tilts his head, his lips dangerously close to mine. “But we might as well convince them, right?” His tone is teasing, but there’s a fire in his eyes that says he’s not playing anymore.

I should pull away, tell him no, remind him that this is all part of the charade. But I can’t. My resolve crumbles as I look into his eyes, the intensity there pulling me in, refusing to let go.

“Right,” I whisper, my voice betraying me.

Before I can take another breath, his mouth was on mine, claiming me with a possessiveness that made my breath hitch. His lips moved against mine, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every second of it. Then, his teeth tugged on my lower lip, and I gasped, giving him the opening he needed.

His tongue slipped inside, tasting and teasing, coaxing mine into a heated dance that left me dizzy. The kiss was all-consuming, each stroke of his tongue demanding a response that I couldn’t help but give. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a declaration, a promise of everything he could make me feel.

Mattheo’s hand slid up my back, pulling me closer until I was practically melting into him. He sucked on my lower lip, pulling it between his teeth before releasing it with a soft, wet pop. The sound sent a shiver down my spine, and I found myself pressing closer, needing more of him, of this.

“Good girl,” he murmured against my lips, the praise like gasoline to the fire already burning inside me. The words sent a rush of warmth straight to my core, and I couldn’t stop the soft whimper that escaped my throat.

His hands were everywhere—on my hips, my waist, tracing the curve of my spine—as he guided me to straddle his lap. The shift in position made me acutely aware of the hardness pressing against me, a reminder of just how much he wanted this, wanted me.

“Such a good girl for me,” he whispered, his lips trailing down my neck, sucking and biting just enough to leave a mark. His words were a drug, intoxicating and impossible to resist. I could feel the heat pooling low in my belly, a need so intense it was almost painful.

“Mattheo,” I breathed, my hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer, needing him to take more, to give more.

He groaned, the sound vibrating against my skin as his hands gripped my hips, guiding me to grind against him. The friction was maddening, each roll of my hips sending waves of pleasure through me that made it hard to think, hard to breathe.

“You like that?” he asked, his voice rough, laced with a hunger that made my heart race.

“Yes,” I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders as I rocked against him, desperate for more. His hands moved to my ass, squeezing as he guided my movements, his lips capturing mine again in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was raw, primal, a clash of tongues and teeth that left me trembling in his arms.

“Good girl,” he repeated, his voice thick with desire as his hands slid under my dress, tracing the edges of my panties. “Such a good girl for me.” The praise was almost too much, his mouth was on mine, sending a fresh wave of heat through my body as I arched into him, needing him to do something, anything to relieve the ache between my thighs.

Reality crashed down on me like a cold wave, dousing the fire that had been raging between us. I was kissing Mattheo Riddle—not just kissing him, but grinding against him in a dark, dingy bar, losing control in a way that was so unlike me.

Breathless, I shook my head, my hands still resting on his chest, but I pushed him away just enough to create space between us. “We shouldn’t,” I whispered, my voice trembling with the effort to regain control.

“Why not?” he murmured.

His hands remained on my hips, firm but not forceful, as if he knew I could—and might—pull away at any moment.

“It’s wrong,” I said, though even as the words left my mouth, they felt hollow. Wrong didn’t even begin to cover the tangled mess of emotions inside me.

“It feels so right to me,” he countered, his voice low.

“That’s the problem,” I whispered, my resolve wavering as I felt the heat of his body so close to mine, the pull of his gaze making it almost impossible to think clearly. I was losing myself, losing the control I prided myself on, every time I was near him.

“Mattheo, I want to go,” I said, my voice firmer this time, though the longing in me betrayed how much I wanted to stay, to give in.

He nodded, understanding flickering in his eyes as he stood up, his hand falling away from my thigh. He kept close to me as we made our way out of the bar, his presence a constant, protective shield, yet he didn’t touch me. And damn, I hated that—hated how much I wanted him to touch me, to feel his hands on me again, even as I knew I shouldn’t.

We reached his bike, and he stood between me and the prying eyes of anyone passing by, shielding me as I climbed on. He still didn’t touch me, and it was driving me insane, the absence of his touch making me crave it even more. I hated myself for it, for wanting him so badly that it was all I could think about.

He climbed on the bike in front of me, starting the engine with a low rumble. My hands automatically went to his waist, and as soon as I made contact, it was like an electric current shot through me. My mind was a mess, a chaotic whirl of thoughts and emotions, and my body—oh, my body—was screaming for more, for him.

I clenched my hands tighter around him, trying to focus, trying to breathe, but the tension inside me was unbearable. The battle raging within me, between what I wanted and what I knew was right, was tearing me apart.

“Stop, Mattheo,” I blurted out, my voice cutting through the night.

He didn’t respond at first, but I felt his body tense under my hands. “What?” he asked, his voice tight, uncertain.

“I said stop,” I repeated, louder this time, and he immediately pulled the bike over to the side of the road, the engine cutting off with a final, ominous growl.

We were on a dark, deserted forest road, the trees casting long, eerie shadows under the moonlight. I got off the bike quickly, putting distance between us, trying to get a grip on the whirlwind of emotions inside me. I walked a few steps away, the cool night air doing nothing to calm the fire burning inside me.

I turned around, my breath catching in my throat as I saw him, standing there, taking off his helmet. His eyes were on me, intense, questioning, filled with something that made my heart race all over again.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was running back to him, my resolve crumbling to dust. I crashed into him, my hands fisting in his shirt as I pulled him down to me, my lips finding his with a desperation I couldn’t control.

His response was immediate, his hands flying to my waist, gripping me tightly as he kissed me back with a fierce, raw passion that left me breathless. His lips moved against mine with a hunger that matched my own, devouring, claiming me in a way that made my knees weak.

He lifted me effortlessly, placing me on the bike with my back against the handlebars, my legs on either side of him as he stepped between them, his body pressing into mine. The cold metal of the bike contrasted sharply with the heat of his body, the hard, unyielding surface beneath me a stark reminder of how exposed, how vulnerable I was.

But I didn’t care. I was beyond caring. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him against me, needing him to take away the ache that was consuming me from the inside out.

His hands roamed over me, possessive, claiming, as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that made me moan into his mouth. He was everywhere—his touch, his taste, his scent—overwhelming my senses until there was nothing left but him.

“Mattheo,” I breathed against his lips, my hands sliding up to cup his face, holding him to me as if letting go would mean losing him forever.

He growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against my lips as he pulled back slightly, his eyes burning into mine, dark and wild. “You don’t know what you do to me,” he murmured, his voice rough with barely restrained desire.

“Then show me,” I whispered, my voice trembling, both a challenge and a plea.

And he did. His hands moved down to my hips, gripping me firmly as he pulled me closer, his lips descending on mine once more, claiming me, possessing me. The kiss was hard, demanding, every stroke of his tongue, every nip of his teeth, sending shockwaves through me that left me breathless, trembling in his arms.

his hand tracing a teasing line down my side. His breath was hot against my ear as he whispered, “If I were to slip my hand between those pretty thighs right now, would I find you soaking wet, princess?”

A shiver ran through me, his words setting my skin on fire.

“You’d have to do it to find out,” I whispered back, my voice shaky.

His hand slid down to my thigh, gripping it firmly as he pushed the fabric of my dress up, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin there. The touch was electrifying, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core, making me gasp.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, dripping with praise that sent another rush of heat through me. His hand moved higher, inching closer to where I needed him most, but he took his time, teasing me, making me squirm against him.

When his fingers finally reached the edge of my panties, he paused, his eyes locking onto mine, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re already so wet for me,” he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he slid one finger along the slick fabric, barely touching me but enough to make my breath hitch.

I bit my lip, fighting back a moan as he continued to tease me, his finger tracing lazy circles over my clit through the thin fabric. The sensation was maddening, the light touch just enough to drive me crazy but not nearly enough to satisfy the aching need inside me.

“Let’s see how wet you really are,” he whispered, slipping his hand inside my panties, his fingers brushing against my slick folds. The contact was enough to make me moan, the sound escaping my lips before I could stop it.

His finger slid along my slit, collecting my wetness before he pressed it against my clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that had me arching into his touch, desperate for more. “You’re drenched,” he murmured, his voice laced with approval, his breath hot against my neck as he continued to work me over.

“Mattheo,” I gasped, my hands gripping his shoulders as he curled his finger, finding that perfect spot that made me see stars. He added another finger, the stretch delicious as he pumped them in and out, his thumb brushing against my clit with every movement.

“Look at you princess.” he whispered, his voice a low growl as he continued to finger me, his pace steady and relentless. “You like knowing we’re still in public, don’t you, Y/N? That’s so unlike you….”

His words made my head spin, the combination of his dirty talk and the way his fingers worked me over was too much, too overwhelming. “Nothing I do when I’m with you is like me,” I admitted, my voice breathless as I bucked against his hand, craving more of the pleasure only he could give me. “But nothing has ever felt this good.”

He groaned at my confession, his fingers curling inside me, hitting that perfect spot that had me seeing stars. “Good girl,” he praised again, his voice filled with pride and lust as he kissed me hard, his lips claiming mine with a hunger that left me breathless.

I kissed him back with equal fervor, losing myself in the feel of him, the way his fingers worked me over, driving me closer and closer to the edge. His thumb pressed harder against my clit, his fingers curling inside me in just the right way, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me that made my entire body tremble.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he growled against my lips, his fingers moving faster, harder, the wet sounds of his fingers working me over filling the dark, empty forest around us. “You’re going to come for me, aren’t you, princess? Come all over my fingers like the good girl you are.”

His words were my undoing, the praise and the dirty talk too much for me to handle. I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders as I shattered around him, my orgasm ripping through me with a force that left me breathless, clinging to him for support as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me.

Mattheo didn’t stop, his fingers working me through my orgasm, prolonging the pleasure until I was nothing but a trembling, panting mess in his arms. He finally slowed his movements, gently pulling his fingers out of me and bringing them to his lips, his eyes locked onto mine as he licked them clean.

“Fuck, you taste amazing,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe and satisfaction as he pulled me in for another searing kiss, his tongue slipping into my mouth, letting me taste myself on him.

I kissed him back, my heart racing, my body still trembling from the intensity of what he’d just done to me. I knew we were still out in the open, knew that anyone could have seen us, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was him, the way he made me feel, the way he could break down every wall I’d ever built around myself with just a touch, a word, a kiss.

breath was hot against my ear as he whispered, “Would you let me tease you, princess? Let me take my time driving you wild until you’re begging for me?”

His voice was dark, dripping with lust and promise, the words alone sending a shiver down my spine. I could only nod, still panting, my body trembling from the aftershocks of my release. The anticipation of what he was about to do had my heart racing, my breath catching in my throat.

He smirked at my response, his eyes gleaming with wicked intent. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, his hands sliding down to spread my legs wider. I gasped as the cool air brushed against my heated core, my entire body thrumming with a desperate need for more.

Mattheo took his time, starting with a slow, deliberate kiss on the inside of my thigh, just above my knee. His lips were soft, his tongue darting out to taste my skin as he worked his way up, inch by agonizing inch. Each kiss, each lick, sent a fresh wave of arousal through me, making my thighs tremble in anticipation.

He alternated between gentle kisses and slow, teasing licks, his tongue tracing patterns up my inner thigh. The closer he got to where I wanted him most, the more my hips began to shift, desperate for him to end the torment. But he didn’t rush, savoring every moment, every reaction he pulled from me.

When he finally reached the apex of my thighs, he paused, his breath warm against my soaked folds. The anticipation was unbearable, every nerve in my body screaming for him to touch me, to give me the release I was so desperately craving.

“Look at me,” he murmured, his voice laced with dark amusement as he kissed the sensitive skin right beside where I ached for him most.

And then, without warning, his tongue was on me, the first long, slow lick sending a bolt of pleasure straight through me. I cried out, my hips bucking involuntarily as his tongue slid over my folds, his hands gripping my thighs to hold me in place.

He took his time, alternating between slow, teasing licks and firm, deliberate strokes of his tongue over my clit. Every touch was electric, every swirl of his tongue pushing me closer and closer to the edge. I was already so sensitive, still reeling from my first orgasm, and the sensation was almost too much to bear.

“Mattheo, please,” I gasped, my hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more.

He chuckled against me, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through me. “Patience, princess,” he murmured, his voice a dark, sinful promise. “I’m just getting started.”

He wrapped his lips around my clit, sucking gently before flicking his tongue over the sensitive nub. The combination of his mouth and the steady rhythm of his tongue was driving me wild, the pleasure building so quickly that it was almost overwhelming.

He kept at it, his tongue working in tandem with his lips, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. My thighs were trembling, my breath coming in short, desperate gasps as the pleasure coiled tight in my belly, ready to snap.

And then he pushed me over the edge, his tongue curling around my clit in a way that made my vision go white. I cried out, my body convulsing as the orgasm tore through me, the pleasure so intense that I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could only feel.

He didn’t stop, didn’t give me a moment to recover as he continued to work me through my release, his tongue lapping up every bit of my arousal. The overstimulation was mind-blowing, each flick of his tongue sending another shockwave through my already oversensitive body.

“Mattheo,” I gasped, my voice raw from the intensity of it all. “I can’t—”

“Oh, but you can,” he growled, his voice dark and commanding as he continued his assault on my clit, his fingers sliding back inside me to curl against that spot that made me see stars. “You’re going to cum again, princess. I want to feel you fall apart for me one more time.”

I could barely form a coherent thought, my mind completely consumed by the pleasure he was giving me. I could only nod, my body already climbing toward that peak again, the intensity of it making my head spin.

He finally pulled away, his hands gently holding my thighs as I came down from the high, my body still trembling with the aftershocks. I was completely spent, my mind foggy with pleasure, but Mattheo just grinned up at me, his lips glistening with my arousal.

“Fuck, you’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction as he kissed my inner thigh, his fingers gently tracing patterns on my skin. “I could do this all night.”

Tears of pleasure welled in my eyes as I reached for Mattheo, pulling him up to me. I could feel my makeup smeared, my face wet with tears that I knew had streaked down my cheeks, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was him, about the way his lips met mine in a kiss that was as fierce as it was tender.

He kissed me with a hunger that matched my own, his hands cradling my face as if I were something precious, even as I reached down, my fingers fumbling with the buckle of his belt. I could feel how hard he was, could feel the heat radiating from him, and it only made me more desperate, more eager to feel all of him.

But then, to my surprise, he pulled back slightly, his hand catching mine. “No,” he murmured, his voice firm, but there was something in his tone that made me pause, that made me look up into his eyes, confused.

“What? Why?” I asked, my breath hitching, my heart pounding in my chest. The need in me was so overwhelming that I couldn’t understand why he would stop now, not when we were both so clearly on the edge.

He laughed softly, but it wasn’t mocking. It was low and full of a raw affection that sent a shiver down my spine. He leaned in and kissed me again, slow and deep, as if he were trying to pour all of his feelings into that one moment. When he pulled back, he looked into my eyes, his thumb brushing gently over my tear-streaked cheek.

“Believe me, there’s nothing I want more in this world than to bend you over this bike and take you right now, right here,” he whispered, and the words alone were enough to make my legs go weak.

“Then do it,” I pleaded, my voice trembling with both need and frustration. I didn’t care about anything else in that moment; I just wanted him.

But he shook his head, his gaze never leaving mine, his thumb still tracing the line of my cheek.

“No,” he repeated, and before I could protest, before I could beg, he continued, his voice soft but filled with a determination that left me breathless. “When I get to have you, Y/N, I want it to be when I can take my time, when I can make you feel everything I’ve been dying to give you. I don’t want to rush this, to take you in some dark forest where anyone could see. You deserve more than that, more than just a quick fuck.”

His words hit me like a tidal wave, overwhelming in their sincerity, in the sheer weight of what he was saying. I could see it in his eyes, the way he looked at me, like I was the only thing that mattered in the entire world. He wanted more than just my body; he wanted all of me, and he wanted it to be right.

I was speechless, my heart pounding so hard it hurt, and all I could do was stare at him, trying to process everything he had just said. “Mattheo…” I whispered, my voice barely audible, but he silenced me with another kiss, this one gentle, full of a tenderness that brought fresh tears to my eyes.

"Not here, not like this. I want to take my time with you, princess. I want to feel every inch of you, taste every part of you, and make you mine in every possible way.”

I could only nod, tears slipping down my cheeks as I kissed him back, pouring all of my emotions into that kiss. I wanted him so badly it hurt, but I knew he was right. This—whatever it was between us—was more than just a physical need. It was something deeper, something that deserved to be treated with the care and attention he was promising.

We were supposed to be heading to class, but with Mattheo Riddle standing this close, logic and responsibility seemed to melt away. His lips were on mine, hot and insistent, and I could barely think straight. His hand was firmly on my waist, pulling me closer as if he couldn't get enough, and I had to admit, I didn’t mind in the slightest.

In the back of my mind, I knew we were in a hallway, but everything else was a blur. All I could focus on was the way Mattheo’s lips moved against mine, the way his other hand slid up to cup my cheek, deepening the kiss.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor. My eyes flew open, and Mattheo reacted instantly, pulling me into a nearby alcove and pressing a hand gently over my mouth. My heart raced, not from fear but from the thrill of almost being caught. I couldn’t help the mischievous smile that crept onto my lips as I peeked up at him.

His eyes were locked onto mine, and he had that signature smirk of his as we both listened to the footsteps drawing nearer. The Ravenclaw group passed by, completely oblivious to our presence. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at how close we had come to being caught.

As soon as they were out of sight, I grinned and grabbed his collar, yanking him back to me. “Where were we?” I asked, my voice playful as I pressed my lips to his once more. The taste of him was intoxicating, and I was already forgetting why we needed to stop.

His hands slid down my back, pulling me even closer, his lips moving hungrily against mine. “Right here,” he murmured between kisses. “Not going anywhere, princess.”

I laughed softly, feeling the thrill of the moment surge through me. “You’re going to get us both in trouble,” I teased, even as I kissed him deeper, not caring at all about the consequences.

“Worth it,” he breathed out, his lips trailing down to my collarbone, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “You know, you could just skip class… stay here with me. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

“I definitely don’t want to go to class right now.”

“Who says we have to?” he murmured, his voice low and tempting as he pressed another kiss to the corner of my mouth.

I sighed dramatically, feigning frustration. “You’re such a bad influence, Riddle.”

“And you’re such a willing participant, Y/L/N,” he shot back with a smirk, pulling me back in for another kiss. This time, it was even more heated, as if the idea of sneaking around had only fueled the fire between us.

But just as things were getting even more intense, a familiar voice interrupted us. “Oh, don’t mind me. Continue.”

We both pulled away quickly, turning to see Theo standing there, looking entirely too amused for my liking.

Mattheo sighed, rolling his eyes before he spoke, “Theo, mate, you’re my best friend. Can’t you find something better to do than being a cockblock?”

Theo crossed his arms, smirking. “And you two were supposed to be finding the person behind the gossip column, not making out in an empty hallway.”

At Theo's words, realization hit me like a lightning bolt. The Daily Prophet letter! It was supposed to be today! I spun around to face him. “Theo, did the letter arrive yet?”

He shook his head. “Nope, nothing. You might’ve scared them off for good.”

I frowned, trying to think straight despite the lingering heat in my body from Mattheo’s touch. “That’s strange… they’ve been so consistent."

Mattheo’s hand was still on my waist, his thumb brushing gently over my skin, and despite my worry, I couldn’t help but feel a small thrill at his touch. I turned to him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “I should probably go so I won’t be late for class,” I said softly, though every part of me wanted to stay right here with him.

“You sure you don’t want to stay? I can think of a few more ways to spend the time.”

I laughed, giving him a quick peck on the lips. “Tempting, but I’ll save that for later.” With that, I pulled away from him, giving Theo a playful wave as I hurried off down the corridor.

As I walked away, I could hear Mattheo’s voice behind me, low and teasing. “You know, Theo, sometimes I think you take your job as a third wheel a little too seriously.”

Theo’s laughter echoed through the hallway as I turned the corner, already counting down the minutes until I could see Mattheo again.

I sat in class, staring blankly at the parchment in front of me, my quill lazily tracing random lines across the page. The absence of the Daily Gossip Letter today was unsettling, and I could feel the unease settling over the classroom like a heavy fog. Everyone else seemed to be thinking the same thing—why hadn’t it come today? The letter had become a constant, its arrival as predictable as the sunrise, yet today, there was nothing.

As I absentmindedly doodled on my notebook, my mind began to wander, trying to piece together why the letter had stopped.

But why would it stop?

I tried to focus, to pay attention to the professor’s words, but my thoughts kept wandering. The gossip letter had become a staple at Hogwarts, a daily dose of scandal that everyone had come to expect. So why would it just… stop?

Unless… unless the person behind it didn’t need it anymore.

The thought sent a shiver down my spine. I started to think about all the things that had been written about me in that damned letter. The gossip wasn’t just random; it was targeted, specific. Almost like someone had a personal reason.

I started recalling all the gossip that had been written about me. My so-called date with Prince Edward, which wasn’t even a real date because I had turned him down. But when I returned to school, the letter had detailed everything about it—except the rejection part, of course. That happened privately, away from prying eyes. So how did the letter know about the date in the first place? Who else was in Italy at the same time as me?

My heart began to race as I straightened in my seat, my hand shaking slightly as I wrote down the names of the only two people who could have possibly known. The first name felt wrong, implausible, but the second… my stomach twisted as I scrawled it down.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. My thoughts raced back to another piece of gossip—the one about me supposedly flirting with a Durmstrang student during the Yule Ball. The truth was, I had been trying to get information about a certain dark artifact that night, and the conversation had been strictly business. Yet the letter painted a completely different picture.

Again, I scribbled down the name. My hand tightened around the quill as I recalled another instance—Time when I helped Adrian Pucey sneak into the restricted section of the library. It was late at night, and we were careful not to get caught. But the letter described it in perfect detail, down to the exact time we were there. Who else knew?

The quill in my hand quivered as I wrote down the final name. My breathing became shallow, and I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as all the clues finally came together, like pieces of a puzzle that I had been too blind to see. Every rumor, every piece of gossip, every little detail that had been written about me, led back to one person.

I circled the name angrily, feeling my heart break as I stared at the words on the page, the tears now spilling down my cheeks.

I didn’t care that the professor was calling my name, didn’t care about the shocked whispers that followed me as I bolted out of the classroom. All I could think about was finding him, confronting him. My feet carried me quickly down the corridors, my heart pounding in my chest as I headed toward the Great Hall. But when I got there, he wasn’t among the students milling about.

I clenched my fists, trying to think. Where would he be? Then it hit me—Quidditch practice. They had the last part of the day off.

Without another thought, I made my way to the Slytherin dorms. My mind was racing, anger and betrayal twisting in my chest as I reached his door. I didn’t hesitate as I knocked, the sound echoing in the empty corridor.

When the door opened, Mattheo’s surprised expression turned into a mischievous smirk as he leaned against the frame, eyes raking over me. “Y/N? What, you miss kissing me so much you had to skip class?” His tone was playful, teasing, and he stepped aside to let me in.

I ignored the flutter in my chest and walked past him into the room. The moment he saw my face, though, his smirk faded. He closed the door and turned to me, concern clouding his eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, as he moved closer. “Y/N, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

I sat down on his bed, feeling the weight of his gaze on me. His words echoed in my mind, the ones he’d said before about how the person behind the gossip letter must want to get a reaction out of me. I looked up at him, a cold smile curling my lips. "Well, was it good?"

Mattheo frowned, confusion crossing his features. “What are we talking about now, princess?”

“The reaction you got out of me,” I said, and just like that, the smile on my face vanished, replaced by the full weight of my anger and hurt. “Was it everything you hoped for?”

His face went blank, the confusion deepening in his eyes. “Wait, Y/N—”

“Checkmate, Riddle,” I said, my voice trembling as I stood up, the anger and hurt finally spilling over.

"You were the only one who knew about Italy, about what happened there. You were the one who was with me at the Yule Ball. You were there when Adrian and I sneaked into the library." My voice grew louder with each accusation, tears burning in my eyes. "All of those details, every single one of them—it was you. You were the one writing the gossip letter, weren’t you?"

Tears blurred my vision as I continued, my voice shaking with emotion. “Was it fun for you? Watching me losing my mind, seeing how much it effected me? Was it a game, Mattheo? Did you enjoy it? You said the person doing this wanted a reaction—well, congratulations, you got it. You got everything you wanted. I trusted you… I thought you cared, but you were just playing me all along.”

“You’ve been playing me this whole time, haven’t you? Feeding me lies, watching as I fell for every trap you set. And for what? A laugh? A good story?”

“Y/N, that’s not—” he started, but I cut him off.

“Save it,” I spat out, my voice breaking under the weight of my emotions. “You’ve already won. I just wonder why you haven’t written your final story yet—it’s a good one. Especially the part where you—"

But before I could finish, he cut me off, his voice trembling with an emotion I hadn’t expected.

"What could I have done, Y/N? What could I have possibly done?" he began, his words tumbling out in a rush, raw and unfiltered. "I was there, yes, I was right there with you—through all of it. But do you know why? Do you know why I couldn’t stay away?"

I froze, his words piercing through my anger like a knife. He continued, his voice thick with desperation. "I’ve loved you all this time, from the first day I got off that stupid train, from the first moment I laid eyes on you. And I can’t remember a single day where I haven’t been in love with you.

He paused, his eyes locked on mine, pleading for understanding. "It wasn’t just some stupid crush, Y/N. It was an obsession, it was madness—but it was love. I loved you, and I still love you. I was desperate… Desperate to be near you, to be a part of your life, even if it meant doing something as twisted as this."

I stood frozen."You could have just said that. You should have just told me that."

"Yeah, right," he scoffed bitterly, shaking his head. "Fucking right, Y/N."

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice wavering.

"You had a damn prince crying after you rejected him," Mattheo snapped, his frustration and jealousy spilling over. "A prince, Y/N! And here I am, the son of a psychopath, the last person anyone should ever trust, much less love. What was I supposed to say? ‘Oh, by the way, I’m in love with you, even though my father’s the Dark Lord and everyone expects me to be just like him’? Who the hell would ever want that?"

He paced the room, running a hand through his hair as he continued, his voice strained. "Every day, I watched you. I saw you with your friends, with guys who could give you everything—everything. And the worst part? The worst fucking part was knowing that no matter what I did, no matter how close I got, it would never be enough. Not for someone like you."

Tears welled up in my eyes again, but this time they weren’t from anger. "You don’t get it, Mattheo. None of that mattered to me. None of it. I didn’t care about titles or any of that. I just wanted someone who was real with me. Someone who saw me for who I am, not just as some piece in a game."

He stopped pacing and turned to me, his expression softening. "I did see you, Y/N. That’s why I did what I did. The letters… they were my way of being close to you, of being a part of your world. But I was so scared of losing you, of you finding out what I’d done, that I just kept digging myself deeper. And now… now I’ve lost you anyway."

His voice broke on the last word, and the sight of him standing there, so vulnerable, shattered the last of my defenses.

Just as I was about to respond, movement from the next bed caught my eye. I blinked, my heart skipping a beat when I saw Enzo sitting up, looking between Mattheo and me with wide, startled eyes, propped up on his elbows.

He Clearly had heard more than enough. "Oh, fuck," he muttered, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "I’ve got this thing—relationship phobia. Can’t be around emotional confessions, they give me hives." [p.s that’s the same Enzo from Down bad pray for him]

He awkwardly shuffled out of the bed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, guys. Gonna get out of here real quick. Pretend I was never here, yeah?" With that, he practically bolted out of the room, leaving me staring after him in disbelief until the door clicked shut behind him.

This family is insane.

We both stood there in silence for a moment, the sudden interruption leaving us both a bit stunned. I didn’t know what to say, and it seemed like Mattheo didn’t either.

“Y/N,” he finally whispered, his voice cracking as he took a tentative step toward me. “Please… say something. Anything.”

“You hurt me, Mattheo,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You lied to me, manipulated me."

“I know,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “I know I did, and I hate myself for it. But Y/N, please believe me when I say that I never meant to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know how else to keep you close.”

Tears welled up in my eyes again, and I wiped them away furiously, hating how vulnerable I felt in this moment. “Why didn’t you just tell me how you felt? Why did you have to go through all this?”

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, his voice so quiet, so broken, that it made my chest ache. “I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. I never wanted to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know how else to be close to you. I didn’t know how to tell you that I loved you without feeling like I was going to lose you.”

I bit my lip, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over. “But you didn’t have to do it like this, Mattheo. You didn’t have to lie to me, to manipulate me, just to be close. I would’ve—” My voice broke, and I had to take a deep breath to steady myself. “I would’ve loved you anyway."

Mattheo's face softened, his brow furrowing in confusion as he whispered, "You would?" His voice was barely audible, almost as if he didn’t believe the words that had just left his lips.

I couldn’t bring myself to answer right away. My heart was pounding, and I could feel the walls I had built around myself beginning to crumble. Without a word, I got up from the bed and walked toward him, each step feeling heavier than the last.

"Yeah," I finally said, my voice trembling as I stood in front of him. "Because it would’ve been easy, Mattheo."

His eyes searched mine, desperate and lost, as if he was trying to find the truth in my words.

"I’ve loved you," I began, my voice cracking, "from the moment I stepped off that stupid train, too love must have been in the air that day or something. But I couldn’t let myself admit it. Instead, I pushed you away, pretended I couldn’t stand you because I was terrified—terrified of how much I wanted you, how much I needed you." Tears spilled over, and I couldn’t stop them this time. They streamed down my face as I choked out the words I had been too afraid to say for so long. "I didn’t know how to deal with how much you consumed me, so I fought it. But it was always you, Mattheo. It was always you."

He moved closer, his hands gently cupping my face, wiping away my tears with his thumbs. His touch was soft, so different from the way he usually carried himself—like he was afraid I might break if he wasn’t careful.

“I didn’t know…” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“I did. I do,” I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper as I leaned into his touch. “I just didn’t want to admit how much you meant to me. How much you still mean to me.”

Mattheo’s forehead rested against mine, his breath warm on my skin as he held me close. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice filled with a kind of raw vulnerability I’d never heard from him before. “I didn’t know how to show you what I felt without messing everything up. I was so afraid of losing you that I did the exact thing that could drive you away.”

I shook my head, trying to push away the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm me. “I know,” I whispered, my hands clutching the front of his shirt as if he was the only thing keeping me grounded. “I know now that the letters were more about admiring me than harming me. They only felt too much when another boy was involved, and… and I get it. I get that it was your twisted way of dealing with jealousy.”

He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, his gaze intense but soft, as if he was seeing me for the first time. “You mean everything to me,” he said, his voice so quiet it was almost a breath. “I just didn’t know how to show it without screwing it up.”

“You don’t have to be perfect,” I told him, my voice shaky as I tried to make him understand. “You just have to be you. That’s all I ever wanted.”

Mattheo’s grip on me tightened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against mine in the softest, most tentative kiss. It was like he was asking for permission, for forgiveness, and I gave it to him willingly, kissing him back with all the emotions I had kept bottled up for so long.

As the kiss deepened, I felt the last of my walls crumble, leaving me completely vulnerable in his arms. But for the first time, I wasn’t afraid. I knew that despite everything, this was where I was meant to be. And maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other from here.

“I love you,” I whispered against his lips, my voice thick with tears and longing.

“I love you to—”

The door suddenly burst open, and Blaise walked in, his eyes widening as he took in the scene. He froze for a moment, his gaze darting between the two of us, and then a slow smirk spread across his face.

“Well, well, well,” he drawled, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe. “Isn’t this cozy? I was just coming to grab a book, but it looks like I walked into the middle of a romance novel. Should I start narrating? ‘And in that moment, their love ignited like a house elf’s poorly managed kitchen fire…’”

I felt my face flush, and I quickly stepped back from Mattheo, wiping at my eyes. “Blaise, could you just…not?” Mattheo said .

Blaise chuckled, completely unfazed by Mattheo’s irritation. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’ll just be over here, pretending I didn’t walk in on whatever _this_ is.” He waved his hand vaguely in our direction before sauntering over to the bookshelf.

I shot Mattheo a look, trying to stifle a laugh as Blaise exaggeratedly searched for his book, humming to himself like nothing unusual had happened.

Mattheo sighed, shaking his head as he muttered, “I’m killing you after this.”

“Nuh,” Blaise called out, pulling a book from the shelf and turning back to us with a grin. “You love me.”

“Debatable,” Mattheo shot back, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

Blaise winked at me before heading toward the door. “Carry on with your dramatic declarations of love. I’ll leave you two to…whatever this is.” With that, he slipped out of the room, leaving us alone once more.

As the door clicked shut, I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, Mattheo looked down at me.

“Where were we?” he asked softly, pulling me back into his arms.

“I think you were about to tell me how much you love me,” I teased, my heart swelling with warmth.

“Right,” he whispered, his voice turning serious again as he leaned in to kiss me. “ Fuck yeah I love you. So much.”

[writersblockiskillingme]

So I saw you wanted request for the rise of red and I'm here to deliver lol. So Captin Hook right? Can I get something like we are also friends with Bridget (or we are like Bridget) and they like run into each other and stuff I'm bad at doing requests and stuff sorry lol

Happy Little Accidents | Captain Hook

Pairing: Captain Hook x fem!reader

Summary: Hook and you always run into each other and he hates it.

Warning/s: fluff, short fic, Morgie's teasing, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: You did amazing with the request, don't worry, hun. I did my best, hope this is what you wanted, enjoy!!

You had a reputation for being, what the VK's would call, a goody two shoes. A person that always follows the rules, never rebels against anyone or anything, is always good, always kind. Even if someone was so incredibly rude to you, you would still have a smile planted onto your face and a thought filled with kindness in your head.

All in all, your personality perfectly matched the one that Bridget from Wonderland had. That is one of the many reasons the two of you were practically inseparable.

No matter what, you always saw good in everyone and everything. Some people loved you for it. Some people found themselves despising you for that personality trait that you possessed.

You usually kept to yourself when you were not hanging out with Bridget or Ella, just trying to stay out of anyone's way.

Bridget always gave her best to make as many friends as possible, simply always going out of her way to make sure she made friends. You were not like that really.

You had Bridget and Ella. You had two friends. That was enough for you. It's not like you didn't want to give people a chance to be your friends. No way! You simply preferred it like that.

And even though you always stayed out of other people's ways, somehow one VK kept running into you.

The one with the smirk that seemed like it never left his face.

The one with the hook on his right hand.

The one who was a part of Uliana's crew.

Captain James Hook.

No matter how hard you tried to avoid each other, you just simply kept running into each other no matter what.

Whether you were just rushing to get to class in time or you were taking a walk or just reading or doing schoolwork on the courtyard, Hook was always there. However, it's not like he wanted to run into you all the time.

He infact hated it.

Constantly running into you. You with your bubbly personality and your kindness and your generosity and your willingness to help others even when they are mean to you and your perfect face and your gorgeous smile and your amazing hair and... and the panic he felt every time the two of you ran into each other.

The panic that appeared every time he realized over and over again just how amazing you truly are. Not that he would admit that to anyone.

Until Morgie noticed.

That's exactly how he ended up leaning against the tree in the courtyard of the Merlin's Academy as Morgie was siting down on the ground not too far away from him, listening as Hook was spilling nonsense at him.

"I just can't do it anymore," Hook groaned as Morgie rolled his eyes once again after God knows how many times. "I constantly run into her, it's crazy."

"Mhm..."

"She's just so annoying."

"Sure."

"I mean," Hook scoffed, basically ignoring Morgie who now had his head resting on his arms, sitting with his legs crossed in the grass. "Who can possibly be so happy all the time?"

"She can."

"It's so infuriating!" Hook groaned, throwing his head back, waving his hook around to emphasize his point. "That stupid, goody goody."

"Just admit that you like her already." Morgie rolled his eyes and Hook got silent all of a sudden.

"I don't-I-," he found himself stuttering and Morgie started to smirk as he saw his friend slowly starting to blush. "I don't like anyone! Especially not someone like her!"

"Mhm," Morgie hummed, unconvinced. "Sure you don't. You just notice every single thing about her and you've been 'complaining' about her kindness and generosity and perfection for almost half and hour. Just admit it to yourself."

"I don't like-"

"Please," Morgie said, once again, no surprise there, rolling his eyes as he looked at Hook. "I'm pretty sure Uliana noticed it, too."

"I-"

"Maleficent did for sure," he chuckled. "She's been looking at you a bit weirdly since few days ago when you started blushing when your little crush touched you accidentally while trying to escape Uliana and save Bridget like usual."

"I DID NOT BLUSH-!" Hook looked mortified and Morgie found himself laughing.

"Oh, please," he said, "Don't be so surprised, of course I noticed it."

Hook looked out into the distance and could have sworn that he saw that familiar hair color at the other side of the school. Morgie looked at him and sighed as he stood up, placing his hand on Hook's shoulder.

"Look, ask her out before someone else does because I've heard that Snow White's son has a thing for her, too." Morgie said and Hook's gaze snapped to Morgie's.

"I just thought that you should know." Morgie said in sing-song voice before he walked away with his arms behind his back, smirking, so pleased with himself.

As his gaze left Morgie's he realized, oh, he's not gonna have that.

TAGLIST:

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@xoxo-h3arts @i-am-fork @a-homosexual-homosapien @snixx2088 @heartsfromcoco @ariaroseloklover @isafran1125 @gayfrog29 @mystic-mae

[ohhiimweird]

The General's Spouse

It's the Xianzhou generals, except they're married to you and they won't shut up about it Characters: Jing Yuan, Feixiao (separate) Reader Pronouns: they/them (gender neutral) Warnings: none!

Jing Yuan

you're like that sweet old married couple on the ship, except neither of you has wrinkles on your faces

bro never stops talking about you. "my spouse" this and "my spouse" that

Everyone knows who you are and that you're the general's spouse. people wave to you on the streets when you walk by

it's a blessing and a curse. on one hand, some people are quite friendly with you, on the other hand, you're a target for enemies of the xianzhou

because of this, if Jing Yuan can't protect you himself, he sends at least two cloud knights with you to flank both your sides

you also somehow, wake up with his fluffy hair in your mouth every morning while he's laying on top of you

Jing Yuan enjoys playing chess with you and you keep a scoreboard that tracks your wins and losses. whoever loses has to make dinner

You spoil Yanqing rotten and treat him like he's your son

Jing Yuan misses you a lot when he's off on his general duties.

"I miss my spouse, Fu Xuan. I miss them a lot. I'll be back."

Feixiao

ah yes, the Merlin's Claw's precious spouse, you're the talk of the Yaoqing

that's mostly because our general won't stop talking about you <3 it's either very sweet or very annoying, like we get it, your spouse is beautiful, can we please get back to this meeting?

If you're with Feixiao during the 2.4-2.5 story, then you have an entire battalion of cloud knights flanking you, praying to every aeon in the universe that Hoolay doesn't know you exist

she makes an effort to give you a good morning kiss before she leaves for the day

you get along with moze and jiaoqiu since you see them a lot (they're your wife's retainers after all)

you'll even hang out with them without your wife (just keep the alcohol away from her)

if she sees you on the street, feixiao will rush by, kiss you on the cheek, and quickly leave. (i'm picturing how it is in the animated short)

another person that says "I miss my spouse, i miss them a lot, i'll be back" to anyone who will listen

if she's drunk, Feixiao will randomly start crying about where you are so someone is calling you saying "please, come get your wife."

can and will carry you, if asked

Thank you for reading <3

[lqveharrington]

Everything & Nothing | D.M.

summary: The Universe might hate you and Draco with how many times you’ve run into each other in a span of your mutual breakup.

pairing: ex!draco malfoy x ex!fem!reader

includes: angst, slight fluff

a/n: uhhh, i don’t know why i wrote this but enjoy!

Fate seemed to have a cruel sense of humor; bringing you both into each other’s lives whenever possible. Whether it was a random run-in at an obscure café or an unexpected encounter during a night out with your quite separate group of friends, you kept finding yourselves crossing paths in the most unlikely places which was weird because you both were studying under the same wizarding university, you never ran into one another there.

Each accidental meeting sparked whirlwinds of emotions between the both of you — anger, hurt, nostalgia, and a flicker of something you both thought you had lost long ago.

Harry and Ron didn’t care, in fact, they were delighted you and Draco Malfoy broke it off when you graduated Hogwarts. Hermione couldn’t care less about the boy, but she knew you two were completely and irrevocably in love.

“So, how did last night go with… Remind me, what was the name of that prick?” Ron tapped his chin as you stared at him with the thought of casting a horrifying spell on him.

Hermione hesitated, reached a hand out to stop him before you could pull your wand out. “Ron—“

“Was it not Malfoy? I swear he looked exactly—“

You flicked your wand at him, murmuring only one word that wouldn’t cause him too much pain. “Rictumsempra.”

Ron burst out laughing, causing the muggles walking around you to stare at him incredulously. Harry laughed at him as you wore a proud look on your face, making Hermione sigh and reverse the spell. Well, after a few more seconds of torturous tickling.

“If this is how you all will behave this evening, I will send you all home, do you understand?” Hermione directed her attention to the three standing in front of her, most of her irritation directed toward her other half.

She received half-hearted words of understanding before her face completely softened to look over at you, watching your eyes become distant again. She sighed and separated you from the boys, pulling you in for a hug.

“Have you talked to him recently?” Hermione rubbed your arms softly, words quiet as you sniffled. “What’s wrong?” She was about to ask again, believing you didn’t hear her when you responded with a voice barely above a whisper.

“Is it bad that I miss him?” You wipe a stray tear quickly, wishing nothing but to cover up your embarrassment. “Merlin’s beard, I’m crying in a bookstore about a mutual break up.”

Hermione continued to soothe you as muggles continued to look at them with confusion. This happened at least once a month. You would try and move on from him, but it all came rushing back to you like it was just yesterday.

You sigh and rub your eyes with the heel of your palm, “Give me a second.”

“Take all the time you need, we just you got here so you’ll… be fine.” Hermione locked eyes with someone behind you, her eyes lighting up in surprise. “I’ll be back, I need to make sure Ron and Harry haven’t spend all their money on candies.”

You chuckle and wave her off before shifting your gaze to the bookshelves surrounding you. Did you need a new book? No. Do you want to get a new book even thought you have piles of them in your flat? Yes.

As you scanned the different books adorning the shelves, you found one that caught your eye, one that you’ve been wanting for months. Everywhere else was sold out, but apparently not this random bookstore Hermione brought you to.

Standing on your tippy toes, your fingers barely grazed the cloth material the book was bonded by. Just as you were about to clasp your hand around it, a figure behind you plucked it from the shelf, making you turn to glare at the person.

“Hey, I was—“ You cut yourself off as you faced the familiar man. Even after all these months, he still had the same face you fell in love with years ago, but of course he was maturing with his looks. You mumble out his name, making it sound more like a question than an observation. “Draco.”

He tensed at his name falling from your lips, blue eyes meeting yours. Every time he ran into you, neither of you would acknowledge the other, but this was completely different. He stared at you, hoping and praying that this wasn’t a dream. As he realized his face was in fact getting hotter by the second, he knew this wasn’t a figment of his imagination.

“Hi.” Draco breathed out, his resolve bending to your every will. He watched as you directed your attention to his hands, your hands spinning a ring he thought you threw out long ago. He blinked before clearing his throat and handing you the book, scratching the back of his neck. “Sorry, I was trying to be helpful.”

“It’s fine.” You mutter quietly, your fingers brushing against his, sending sparks down your body.

The room felt hot and heavy and you didn’t know what to do but stand there and bask in the awkwardness that came upon the both of you. You felt for the pages in the book before Draco pressed closer to you, apologies spilling out of his mouth the closer he got as an old woman struggled to get past behind him.

As she finally slipped through, Draco immediately removed himself from you; and from habit, tucked a loose piece of your hair behind your ear before realizing his mistake.

“I’m sorry— I didn’t mean to—“

You stop his rambling before he could go on for any longer, “It’s alright, Draco. No… No harm done at all.” You clasped your hand around the book, nails anxiously tapping against its hard cover. “Uh… It was nice to see you…”

Draco watched as you turned to leave before reached out for your shoulder, making you turn back to face him with a surprised look.

“Wait.”

You looked at the hand on your shoulder and followed his arm up to his face, feeling your own face heat up as his turned equally as red. He quickly removed his hand and tucked them into his pockets — you knew that meant he was nervous. And so were you.

“Can we talk?” He asked softly, slightly bouncing on the balls of his feet. You watch him with slight amusement before nodding, lips curling up to an even bigger smile when you noticed his eyes light up at your agreement. You allowed him to lead the way before looking down at the book.

As you watch him head for the door, you stop him briefly. “Give me a second, I have to pay for the book still.” Before you could even hear how much your total was from the bored cashier, Draco shoved his muggle money to the cashier in hopes to make the process faster.

You rolled your eyes with a small smile on your face, taking the paper bag from the counter and making your way to the front of the bookstore to wait for him. You shut your eyes briefly as the small snippets of conversations floated around the store, the random tales of their lives making small movies in your mind until a hand softly squeezed your shoulder.

“Mm, you done?” You murmur, eyes fluttering up to see a content Draco. Tilting your head over to the cashier, you saw her making goo-goo eyes toward him, specifically a place no one decent should be looking at in public. “You don’t mind if we could talk down by the cafe, yeah?”

“Lead the way.” He gestured the front of the door with his chin, eyes watching your calm facade turn into such a fast filled emotion of annoyance and jealousy.

Instead of the bookstore with an over-eager cashier who was ready to get into Draco’s pants, you lead him to a quiet cafe with no one but two old men playing chess at a round table. The smell of freshly baked pastries filled your senses, making you hum in content and sit at your own round table, Draco sitting right across from you.

After a few silent moments, you sighed and stopped spinning your ring, looking up at the blonde in front of you.

“What did you want to talk about?”

Draco gave you a tight-lipped smile, fingers wringing with each other. “Honestly? Everything. I want to talk about our lives — more specifically yours — and how you’ve been.”

You blinked at him. You didn’t know he was still interested in your life, but you did want to know if he ever…

“We don’t have to, but I would like that very much.” He spoke quietly when he caught your dazed look.

Nodding, you begin spinning your ring again. “What do you want to know?”

He smiled softly and began the mirage of questions, each one you happily answered. It was like no time had passed since Hogwarts. It was like nothing ever happened.

Like always, Draco watched you animatedly talk about a new book series you started, your hands flailing around in excitement. His smile never left, even when you would bounce your knee up and down or when you would snap your fingers when you remembered what you were going to say.

In his mind, you were everything he ever wanted. It was heartbreaking to see your face fall when he brought up a topic that you both wanted to know but didn’t want to say.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, especially coming from me, but you haven’t… Have you been going on dates with others or, you know, have a boyfriend?” Draco murmured.

It was almost laughable how the prince of Slytherin fumbled his words and looked almost embarrassed to ask questions such as these.

You pursed your lips and looked over at the bustling street full of muggles. Your voice was quiet when you spoke that Draco could barely hear it over the sound of the people.

“I have, but I didn’t uhm… I didn’t enjoy any of them.”

“Why not?”

The music of a muggle artist you’ve come to love started playing, making you sigh in slight annoyance. Not that you disliked the song, but because of how similar the song was to your current life.

“They didn’t meet my standards.” You meet his eyes with a distant look, his own eyes shining with interest. “It seemed like none of them could because every time I went on one — which wasn’t many — something always reels me back.”

He hummed, glancing down at your ring with slight curiosity. “And what are those standards?”

You bite your inner cheek as you look off to the side where a happy couple was walking around a fountain and pointing at the water spouts.

“I’m not sure… Just someone who I know would understand me. Someone who will willingly indulge in my interests without being rude or judgmental.” You tucked your hand to adjusted your wand poking into your side. “And preferably someone who’s already a wizard or witch. I don’t want to explain the whole thing to a muggle.”

Draco raised his eyes brows in surprise before a small smirk decorated his lips. You were still a Slytherin through and through. “Sounds like fun.”

You scoffed, “Okay, your turn. How has the dating pool been for you?”

“Actually I haven’t gone on any.” He sat back and crossed his arms across his chest, watching you flush red in embarrassment. “What’s with the face, princess?”

Stupid princess of Slytherin. You thought.

“I just thought you would’ve… Never mind.” You spin the ring again. Just before you could speak once more, Draco cut you off, surprise etching your face at the question.

“Why do you still wear that ring? I thought you would have burned it the second you could.” He tilted his head as your cheeks burned much hotter. “Or better yet, have thrown it in a rubbish heap.”

You glanced down at the Malfoy Signet adorning your ring finger. It wasn’t as big and bulky as Draco’s, but rather dainty with an emerald placed in its center. He said it was his mother’s and that she wished you would have it instead of her.

“It’s not mine to get rid of.” You slip the ring off and gently cradle it in your palm, the writing written on the inside practically a line you could recite any time if asked. “Besides, it’s too gorgeous for me to get rid of it.”

He hummed and plucked the ring from your palm, noticing your eyes following the movement carefully. “I gave it to you, so the true question is if it truly is yours or not.”

The clattering of plates and chatters from customers around you made you finally ask something that’s been itching to get out the second you agreed to talk to him.

“Why did you want to talk? And don’t say because you want to know everything that happened. And how come you never dated again? Was I that bad of a—“

Your eyes widened in surprise before pulling away, fingers coming up to touch your lips.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Draco started as he held the ring tightly in his fist, looking straight into your eyes. “Because I missed talking to you. I missed being around you without the tension between us. And I never dated anyone else because of you. You weren’t bad, you were… You were everything to me that I couldn’t replace. I couldn’t go on in life without you because I wouldn’t have anything. I would have nothing.”

Silence filled the space between the both of you as your heart began to pace faster and faster, fingers fiddling with one another.

“I swear, the universe either loves or hates us because I see you all the time and I couldn’t come up to you without you thinking it was weird.” Draco sighed and ran his slender fingers through his hair. “I know the break up was mutual for both our benefits, but I can’t help think about how our life’s could’ve been.”

You tentatively reach over his clenched hand and gently pry it open before lacing your hand with his, rubbing the soft of his hand to calm him down.

“I honestly am at a loss of words…” You began your own spiel but only stared at your joined hands. “I know that when we broke up it was going to be hard to move on. I… I really tried to but no one could ever top whatever we had.” You look up to his beautiful blue eyes that you swore could be mistaken for gray. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that… I think we should definitely try again. It’s not like we broke up to something horrible, but I guess we had different pathways for our futures.”

Draco took the ring from his palm and held it in front of you, murmuring words of distaste for a second. “Salazar Slytherin, I’m gonna sound like a fucking geek.”

You smile softly. You missed him so much. Even his stupid remarks.

“Do you promise we’ll try? Because even my worst nightmares couldn’t picture a life without you.” Draco matched your ever growing smile. “Because I have always loved you.”

Scrunching your nose, you leaned over the round table and kissed his lips softly before murmuring your own response. “That was really sentimental of you, you geek.”

He slipped the ring back on your ring finger before capturing your lips again, feeling you smile into it. “Well, I’m your geek, my love.”

read more about draco malfoy here!!

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

[iamgonnagetyouback]

can you please please please write more for mattheo riddle x potter!reader. maybe the family going to one of harry’s games, accompanied by reader and mattheo? (maybe featuring the marauders?) i’d love to read anything, it doesn’t even have to be this!! hope you have a great night :)

𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Mattheo Riddle x potter!Reader

It was one of those rare, crisp days at Hogwarts where the skies were clear, and the breeze was just right. The perfect day for Quidditch—or at least, that’s what your brother Harry would say if he weren’t busy being a massive diva about the whole thing.

The stands were packed with students from every House, cheering, waving banners, and clapping in anticipation of the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff match. And to make the occasion even more dramatic than usual, your parents, James and Lily, had shown up, along with Sirius, Remus, and Peter, all seated proudly in the stands, ready to cheer Harry on.

Unfortunately for Harry, you had brought along a certain Slytherin boyfriend of yours—Mattheo Riddle.

“Merlin’s beard,” Harry groaned under his breath, glancing up at the stands where Mattheo had already worked his charm on the crowd. “Why did you bring him?”

You shrugged, a smirk playing on your lips. “Well, he wanted to support you.”

Harry snorted. “Support? Please, he’s just here to make me miserable.”

You glanced at Mattheo, who had somehow managed to get half the Hufflepuff supporters waving at him and even Remus giving him an approving nod. “He’s being perfectly nice. Maybe you’re the one being dramatic.”

Harry threw you a look that said he was this close to throwing himself off his broom. “Dramatic? I’m not dramatic. He’s just—ugh, why is he even waving at people?”

Sure enough, Mattheo was leaning casually against the railing of the Gryffindor stands, flashing a charming smile at anyone who passed by. Every few minutes, he waved, winked, or nodded at a student, causing a flurry of giggles and whispers.

“He’s not supposed to be the center of attention!” Harry muttered furiously, his grip tightening on his broom. “This is my game!”

You patted his shoulder in mock sympathy. “Don’t worry, Harry. Everyone still knows you’re the main attraction.”

“Barely,” he huffed.

Down in the stands, Sirius barked out a laugh, clapping Mattheo on the back. “You’ve got style, kid,” he said, clearly approving of Mattheo’s ability to woo an entire Quidditch crowd without even trying.

“Thanks, Sirius,” Mattheo replied, throwing an arm around you as you sat next to him. “Just here to support my favorite team, after all.”

Harry, overhearing from the pitch, yelled, “Gryffindor is not your favorite team, Riddle!”

Mattheo only grinned and gave him a two-fingered salute, causing Harry to grumble and fly off toward his team.

Remus leaned over to James and muttered, “He’s got quite the influence, doesn’t he?”

James laughed. “He’s a slippery one, that’s for sure. But if he’s got Lily’s approval, who am I to argue?”

Lily, who had been watching Mattheo’s interaction with you, gave a knowing smile. “I think he’s good for her. Keeps things interesting.”

Sirius waggled his eyebrows. “If Harry doesn’t throw him off a broom first.”

The whistle blew, and the game began. But the match wasn’t the only source of entertainment that day.

Every time Harry swooped in for a save, Mattheo would cheer—loudly. “Go on, Potter!” he yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth. “That’s my future brother-in-law!”

Harry nearly lost control of his broom at that, swerving dangerously to avoid a Bludger. “Future brother-in-law?” he shouted, his voice shrill. “Absolutely not!”

The Hufflepuff Seeker zipped past him while Harry was distracted, and you couldn’t help but bury your face in your hands in secondhand embarrassment.

Sirius howled with laughter. “He’s really got Harry rattled!”

“Not to mention the Hufflepuffs,” Peter added with a chuckle. “Look at them. They’re more focused on Mattheo than their own game.”

It was true. Several Hufflepuff players kept sneaking glances at Mattheo, who was now waving at them enthusiastically, giving them a thumbs-up and shouting words of encouragement like he was their biggest fan.

“RIDDLE!” Harry’s voice echoed across the pitch, and he shot a death glare at Mattheo, who was absolutely thriving in the attention.

Mattheo leaned back in his seat, hands behind his head, and winked up at the sky as though Harry’s rage fueled him. “Doing great, Potter!” he yelled, entirely too pleased with himself.

When the match finally ended, Gryffindor won by a hair’s breadth, mostly thanks to Harry’s furious speed after seeing Mattheo charm his way through half the match. The second his feet hit the ground, Harry stormed over to you and Mattheo, his broom still in hand.

“You,” Harry said, pointing an accusatory finger at Mattheo. “You are the most distracting person in the world.”

Mattheo, unfazed, smirked. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It’s not!” Harry spluttered, his voice rising to that familiar, high-pitched squeak of frustration. “You—you made the Hufflepuffs fall for your stupid charm! And you kept shouting things about being my brother-in-law!”

Mattheo shrugged, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Just manifesting the future, Potter. You know how it is.”

“No, I do not know how it is!” Harry snapped. “And stop manifesting things!”

You tried to hold back a laugh, patting Harry on the arm. “Come on, Harry, he was just cheering you on.”

“Cheering me on?” Harry repeated, looking at you incredulously. “He’s a Slytherin! He’s supposed to be evil and plotting things, not—this!” He gestured wildly at Mattheo, who was now sharing a victory fist-bump with Sirius.

“Well, mate,” James said, clapping a hand on Harry’s shoulder as he walked over, “he’s certainly got style. Reminds me of me back in the day.”

Harry looked at his father, horrified. “Dad, don’t encourage him!”

James just laughed, ruffling Harry’s already wild hair. “Relax, kid. He’s not so bad.”

“Not so bad?” Harry echoed, looking around at his family, all of whom seemed perfectly content with Mattheo tagging along. “Am I the only one who sees what’s happening here?”

Lily smiled warmly. “Harry, he’s good for her. You’ll see.”

Harry groaned, defeated, dragging a hand down his face. “I don’t understand this family.”

Mattheo grinned, pulling you closer as your parents walked ahead. “You’re just mad because I stole your spotlight today.”

Harry glared. “No, I’m mad because you exist.”

Mattheo laughed, a deep, genuine sound that made you roll your eyes but smile nonetheless. “Get used to it, Potter. I’m not going anywhere.”

With a final groan, Harry shook his head and trudged off to join the rest of the family, muttering to himself about how this had to be some kind of cosmic joke. You couldn’t help but laugh as Mattheo, walked beside you, his charm having worked its magic on everyone except your very, very grumpy brother.

“Harry’ll warm up to me eventually,” Mattheo said confidently, as if it were inevitable.

You smiled up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Or he’ll keep trying to hex you every chance he gets.”

“Ah, it’s all part of the fun,” Mattheo said with a wink. “Besides, I’ve got the rest of the Potters on my side. What’s one grumpy Chosen One?”

Harry, hearing that from a few feet away, let out another dramatic groan. “Merlin, why me?”

Somehow, you knew life was only going to get more interesting from here.

thank you so much for requesting, love!!

[suugarbabe]

ballooning around | t.n x reader

warnings: fluff

word count: ~1.9k

a.n.: this is for @finalgirllx & @thatdammchickennugget jinxed july! this is for week one; water balloon prompt

Truly it was a marvel that you were functioning, with as hot as it seemed to be at the villa. Somehow, Theo had convinced all of you to spend two weeks with him in Italy at his parents' very large, very private (and very expensive) villa. You say somehow, but everyone knows that with just the smidgen of widening of his big ocean eyes and you’re a fucking goner, doing anything and everything your boyfriend asks or suggests. 

Pansy and yourself had decided that if you were stuck in the heat then you might as well also get bronze; the two of you choosing to lay out by the pool, oiled and lotioned with giant sunglasses perched on your noses. You two had managed only a mere hour of peace and quiet in the sun before you were bombarded with the shouting and rowdiness of the boys. The slapping of bare feet on concrete became louder and more multiplied until you saw three bodies whip by the two of you to cannonball into the pool. 

Your body tensed, eyes closing as you braced for the feeling of sun warmed water to assault you. But it didn’t come. You peaked an eye open when you heard moans and groans of curses (both english and italian), only to see Theo, Enzo and Mattheo hovering just above the surface of the pool. “There’s not a chance in bloody hell I’m allowing you to drench us in pool water just because you lot act like you’re all eleven again in the heat,” Pansy had her wand leveled, pointed strait at the three culprits in front of you. 

It was impossible to hide the grin on your face, pulling your sunglasses down ever so slightly to make direct eye contact with your boyfriend. “Please, bella, tell your friend to let us have a little fun, yeah?” he was laying his accent on extra thick, he knew it was something that often had you melting on his every word. However the heat had you feeling extra bratty, “Not today, amore mio, it’s too hot. Leave the shenanigans for cooler temps, please.” You turned to your friend beside you, “Let them down, Pans. I wanna go inside for a drink.” 

Pansy shrugged, tugging her wand slightly to break the connection. You didn’t miss the slight gape in Theo’s mouth, his expression that of slightly betrayed, but you thought it was cute that he thought you’d give in so easily. Pansy followed you, twirling her wand between her fingers. “Ladies, looking like you’re plotting something, should I be afraid?” Blaise teased as he and Draco exited the villa, Blaise holding the door for you two to enter. Pansy spoke over her shoulder cheekily, “If you know what’s good for you, I wouldn’t plot with the three stooges in the pool.” 

Blaise wore a smirk as he held his arms up in defense, backing away and towards the pool as he let the door close behind the two of you. Sliding up to the kitchen island you let Pansy work on making the drinks as you took off your sunglasses, pulling your wand from the strap of your bikini top where you had secured it for the walk inside. Pansy quirked a curious eyebrow, “Doing some plotting of your own, babes?” You shook your head as you smiled, “Not necessarily, more like…precautionary measures.” 

You held your sunglasses at arms length, pointing the tip of your wand to one lens, “speculo vicissm.” You did the same to the other lens as Pansy laughed lightly, “A reflection charm? Pray tell, my dear, how are these going to help?” You grab the glass she had just set in front of you and threw a decorative straw in it before taking a large sip, “Fucking, Merlin, Pansy, is there any mixer in here?” Pansy just shrugged her shoulders. You took another smaller sip, “Okay, actually it’s not that bad. Anyway, we know that Theo and the others are probably plotting some childish plan to get us back for your little hover charm earlier.” 

She nodded her head, waving her hand in a circular motion as if to tell you to continue, “So I figured…what better way to see him coming than to have eyes on the back of my head. Or rather, be able to see him behind me…without him knowing.” Pansy tapped the side of her glass with her fingers outstretched, her ring making a clinking sound like a mini applause for you as you put your sunglasses back on. “Oh, that is fucking brilliant. I knew Nott had to have fallen for you for more than just a nice ass-ouch!” Pansy rubbed her arm where you swatted at her, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, your very average ass.” 

You laughed, going to swat at her again but she jumped back, running toward the door leading to the pool. Pansy was giggling as you followed briskly after her, being distracted only by Mattheo calling your name. You walked over hesitantly, eyebrow raised and scanning your surroundings as you approached, “Is this some ploy to help Teddy get back at me, Matt? You know I’ll get you back if it is.” You pointed an accusing finger at the raven haired boy who held his hands up in defense, “I’m clean, swear. Look, no wand. I was just, erm, wondering what you were getting Nott for his birthday this year?” 

Arms crossing you sat into your hip, “Theo’s birthday is not until December…why are you asking about that?” Mattheo started stumbling over his explanation as you saw movement in the reflection charm you put on your sunglasses, “I, erm, just wanted to know because I didn’t want to get the same thing as yo-” Mattheo was cut off by you crouching down, pulling him with you. The snap of elastic led way to a burst of water hitting the fence where Mattheo and you once stood. You raised to full stature, quickly turning around while Mattheo continued to sit behind you only to see Enzo with a weak smile on his face. 

“A water balloon, really? Explain yourself, Berkshire,” your tone took that of an accusing older sister and Enzo became visibly nervous. “T-theo,” Enzo cleared his throat after his voice cracked, “ahem, erm, Theo made me do it.” You turned to face your boyfriend who seemed completely unbothered. He stretched his long, toned body across the pool floaty, feet lazily hanging into the water, “What’s wrong, cara mia? Can you handle the heat, or no?” His accent made the question more taunting then it already was. You shook your head, smirking down at him, “Okay, pretty boy. I know what you’re up to. Good luck trying to get me now.” 

But try Theo did, and fail he did often. After the mishap with Mattheo distracting, or more like attempting to distract you Theo tried three more times to soak you with water balloons. And nearly each time your sunglasses charm came in handy. When you were walking back towards the villa to get you and Pansy another round, you saw Mattheo trying to sneak up behind you, “Don’t even think about it Riddle.” You heard him groan in defeat before throwing the balloon at Enzo instead. 

When you were laying out again with Pansy, he had tried to use a hover charm. Thankfully Pansy sensed that one a mile away, using her own wand to counter his spell and send the balloons chasing Theo until he jumped back into the pool to escape. His third attempt was the lowest one in your opinion, so you’re happy it didn’t work out for him. Theo had called you over, saying he wanted a truce and that “he forgave you for foiling his plans earlier.” He tapped on your bottom lip with his thumb, something he did often when he was wanting a kiss. You wanted to believe him, even began to lean towards him until you saw Draco and Mattheo tip toeing in the reflection. The moment you saw them release the balloons you apparated to the other side of Theo, causing both balloons to hit him in the chest and forehead. 

Theo had let out a slew of curses as your hands set firmly on your hips, “Really, Malfoy, you too? Shouldn’t you be hiding in the shade with how fucking pale you are? You’re brighter than the fucking sun.” Draco scoffed, a scowl gracing his face, “Hey, just because you’re pissed at Nott, don’t take it out on me.” Theo had called a truce then, and for the last thirty minutes you felt like you had finally found peace. So when Blaise called you over to the table, you didn’t find it suspicious whatsoever. That and the fact that you fully trusted him to stay out of the rest of the boy’s childish antics. 

“So how did you manage it?” Blaise asked as you sat down. You tilted your head, “How did I manage what?” Blaise leaned his elbows on the table, hand waving as he spoke, “How did you manage to always know when they were coming? Did you put eyes in the back of your head or something, love?” You laughed lightly, handing your sunglasses over to your friend. Blaise quirked an eyebrow, picking up the sleek shades and twisting them this way and that before finally putting them on himself. He let out a low hum of recognition, smiling as he pointed a finger at you, “A mirror charm, you clever witch.” 

You nodded, leaning back in your chair, “Thank you, much. I’m very proud of that. Although I do feel slightly bad with how many times Theo got pummeled with water balloons today.” Blaise pulled your sunglasses down his nose slightly, peering at you over the lenses, “Don’t feel bad, love. He deserved that. However, I do feel bad, because I don’t think you deserve this, but they roped me into it.” Before you even had a chance to properly process what Blaise had just said, what felt like a water balloon the size of your head burst above you, essentially drenching your entire top half in frigid water. 

Turning around slowly in your chair, a look of shock still etched on your face, you saw your boyfriend standing by the edge of the pool, looking far too proud for his own good. You stood up from the patio chair you were sitting in, your look of shock now exchanged for one of determination, “Oh, you are dead meat, Theodore.” You started running after him, Theo only giggling before running away and around the pool. Enzo took your earlier seat next to Blaise, mouth half full of licorice as he spoke, “M’money’s on Theo, his legs are longer and he’s far quicker. Ten galleons he laps the pool and catches her first.” Blaise shook his head, “Nuh uh, no chance. Our little witch is gonna get him and then they’re both gonna end up in the pool.” 

Not as soon as Blaise finished his sentence did you grab hold of Theo’s shoulder, a small yelp from him heard before you both hit the water; Blaise simply smirked at Enzo, holding his hand palm up and waited for his winnings.

[nicolinocolino]

@wolfstarmicrofic | May prompt #3: love confession | word count: 882

“I dare us—“

Remus’s stomach swoops.

“—to drink this,” Sirius punctuates by setting a delicate glass vial of clear liquid onto the table between them.

“Veritaserum?” Remus asks. Dizziness overtakes him.

A spontaneous game of truth or dare in the Gryffindor common room ended moments ago with Lily daring James to go to bed. It earned laughs all around, although James took it as a euphemism instead of his right cue to leave her alone. It left him with a mouth hexed shut.

Now, with the stragglers headed to their dorms, Sirius and Remus are the only two left.

Sirius looks smug. “Brewed it myself.”

“Why?”

“Just to see if I could.”

They lock eyes with a long, dangerously charged glare.

“Okay,” Remus agrees, his rare Gryffindor courage taking over.

Sirius throws him a wicked grin that has him second guessing.

Remus drinks the potion first, just a sip to coat his tongue, then passes it to Sirius who does not break eye contact when pressing the vial to his lips.

“Is it working?” Sirius asks.

“Yes.” The truth leaves Remus immediately. This will be tricky.

Sirius leans forward, elbows on his knees, chin in his hands. Ringed fingers cradle his face. “You go first,” he decides.

Remus swallows. He’s strung up like a kite. “All right. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Why did you really brew the Veritaserum?”

“To move this along.” Sirius waves his hand dramatically in the air between them.

“This?”

“Us.”

Remus notices the first hitch he thinks he’s ever seen in Sirius Black’s throat, as if Sirius himself is startled by how reckless the truth feels coming up with no control.

“Truth or dare?” Sirius continues before Remus can respond.

“Dare,” Remus chooses, afraid.

“Really?” Sirius questions him. He sounds annoyed. “Fine then. I dare you to kiss me.”

The space between them shrinks. Sirius, on the opposite couch, still has his chin in his hands. His smile is sly and his movements coltish, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. Having fun, even.

Remus does not move.

“What? Don’t want to?”

“No, I want to,” Remus confesses, then groans. “Don’t do that, Pads.”

“Do what?”

“Cheat.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Are you going to play or not, Moony?”

Remus stands up, crosses the distance, and sits next to Sirius on the opposite couch. He can feel his heart beat behind his teeth it’s so fervid; his hand shakes as he gently cups Sirius’s cheek. It’s difficult to think of anything more anxiety inducing than the moments before his transformation every full moon, but this comes awfully close.

“Well, Moons?” Sirius repeats in a whisper. His grey eyes bounce between Remus’s, wide and hopeful.

“Yes, I’ll play.” Remus tucks a strand of Sirius’s hair behind his ear and leans in.

Their lips barely meet before Sirius responds with earnest, smile blooming. Remus’s fingers drift back to comb through curls, tugging slightly. It’s rapacious. Sirius gasps and laughs. Remus can’t do this for much longer before the point of no return will ruin him forever.

“Truth or dare?” Remus pants, pulling away with a wild expression.

“Truth,” Sirius chooses. His lips are shiny, eyes dark. Remus wants to devour him.

“Am I a good kisser?”

“Yes. That was the best kiss of my life.”

Remus has to put some space between them soon before that point of no return opens up like a black chasm and becomes an inescapable void. He gets up quickly, awkwardly, and goes back to the opposite couch. The fire in the fireplace gives a sharp, crackled pop.

Sirius looks disappointed, rejected, almost angry. “Truth or dare?” He snaps.

“Dare,” Remus chooses again.

Sirius sets his jaw tight, exasperated. “I dare you to tell me how you really feel about me.”

Remus takes a deep breath. “I’m in love with you,” he whispers, the truth ringing in his ears after he says it. He hides his hot face in his hands and lets out a strangled, muffled scream. “You clever git. That’s cheating. Merlin, you really are bold tonight.” He risks a peek through his fingers at Sirius opposite him. Face unreadable, the weak flames of the fireplace dancing golden and scarlet across his face.

“Now ask me,” Sirius says softly.

“What?”

“Ask me,” he repeats. “The same.”

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

Remus hesitates. “How do you really feel about me?”

“I’m in love with you too,” Sirius is saying, already halfway off the couch, approaching Remus, tucking in next to him on his knees and grabbing his face with force, kissing him for the second time that night.

Love and hunger and relief and joy. And a little bit of panic. They pull at each other, kiss like they can’t get enough.

Remus breaks away. “For how long?” Veritaserum still coursing through them, he will milk the powerful truth potion for all it’s worth.

Sirius does not let their lips be apart for very long. “Moons,” he says through an open mouth. “It’s been all year.”

Remus melts.

“And you?” Sirius continues. “How long?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember,” Remus confesses.

Sirius slides a hand down Remus’s chest. He feels how heavy and quick it beats under his palm.

“It’s been so long, I don’t remember,” Remus repeats.

It must be the truth.

[mywhisperingwords]

everyone wants him | fred g. weasley

summary: everyone wants fred weasley, why would he want you? word count: 3.2k masterlist

The Leaky Cauldron was alive with its usual chaos—laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional misplaced spell fizzling out before causing any real harm.

You sat tucked into the corner of the pub, nursing a Butterbeer that had long since gone lukewarm. Alicia had dragged you out tonight, claiming you needed to “live a little.” You weren’t entirely convinced, but there was something about her enthusiasm that made saying no impossible.

And then there was Fred Weasley.

You’d noticed him the second he walked in, though you’d never admit it. His presence was magnetic in a way you couldn’t quite explain, drawing attention without even trying. He laughed too loud, flashed that mischievous grin too easily, and had the audacity to look good doing it.

He was surrounded, of course. Angelina was at his side, rolling her eyes at something he’d said, but not enough to hide her smile. A couple of other faces hovered nearby—girls who leaned in a little too close, their laughter a little too eager.

You forced yourself to look away, focusing instead on Alicia, who was recounting some outrageous story involving a Niffler and a stolen bracelet.

“And then—are you even listening?”

You blinked, startled, and Alicia followed your gaze across the room. She smirked. “Ah. Fred Weasley.”

You frowned. “What about him?”

“You were practically drooling.”

“I was not.”

She laughed, leaning back in her chair. “Don’t bother denying it. Everyone looks at him like that at least once. It’s infuriating, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“How bloody charming he is.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. Infuriating was a good word for it.

It wasn’t until later in the night, after the crowd had thinned and Alicia had gone off to dance with some guy you didn’t recognize, that Fred approached you.

“Mind if I sit?” he asked, already sliding into the chair across from you.

You glanced up, startled. “Uh, sure?”

His grin widened, and you felt an unwelcome flutter in your chest. “You’re Alicia’s friend, right? I’ve seen you around. I’m Fred.”

“I know who you are.”

“Do you?” He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand. “Should I be flattered or concerned?”

You narrowed your eyes, refusing to rise to the bait. “Depends.”

“On?”

“Whether or not you’re about to use that ridiculous charm of yours to try and get in my pants.”

He laughed—a genuine, full-bodied sound that caught you off guard. “Merlin, you’re sharp, aren’t you? I like that.”

“I wasn’t trying to be likable.”

“Even better.”

You shook your head, unsure whether to be annoyed or amused. He was persistent, you’d give him that.

“So,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Why are you here, all tucked away in the corner like some kind of mysterious enigma?”

“Mysterious enigma?”

“It’s the best I could come up with on short notice. Don’t judge me.”

This time, you couldn’t stop the small smile that crept onto your face. “I didn’t want to come tonight. Alicia dragged me here.”

“Well, remind me to thank her later,” he said, his tone light but his eyes unexpectedly serious.

You hesitated, caught off guard by the shift. For a moment, you wondered if there might be more to Fred Weasley than the charming facade.

But then someone called his name—a girl, predictably—and the moment passed.

Fred glanced over his shoulder, his grin returning as he waved her off. When he turned back to you, he seemed almost reluctant.

“Duty calls,” he said, rising from his chair. “But don’t be a stranger, yeah?”

“Why would I be anything else?”

His laughter followed him as he walked away, and you were left alone, staring at your now-empty glass and wondering what, exactly, had just happened.

&

Diagon Alley was unusually quiet for a Saturday afternoon. The crisp autumn air carried the faint scent of roasted chestnuts from a nearby cart, mingling with the earthy smell of parchment and ink that clung to the shopfront of Flourish and Blotts. You had come to pick up a new quill, your old one having finally succumbed to overuse during a particularly tedious set of reports.

As you stepped out of the shop, quill and a small stack of books tucked under your arm, you nearly collided with someone coming in the opposite direction.

“Careful there,” came the familiar voice, low and teasing.

Fred Weasley.

You took a step back, startled, and looked up to find him grinning down at you. His hair was windswept, cheeks slightly flushed from the cold, and he had the same effortless energy that seemed to follow him everywhere.

“Do you make a habit of running into people, or am I just lucky?” he asked.

“Only the particularly unfortunate,” you replied, stepping aside to let him pass.

“Unfortunate?” He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Here I thought you’d be thrilled to see me.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t quite suppress the small smile tugging at your lips. “What are you doing here, anyway? Don’t tell me you’re in need of a good book.”

“I’ll have you know I’m an avid reader,” he said, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense. “In fact, I was just about to pick up a—” He paused, glancing over your stack of books. “What’s this? ‘The Art of Brewing Potent Potions’? Didn’t take you for the potion-making type.”

You shifted the books slightly, suddenly self-conscious. “I’m not. It’s for a friend.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding solemnly. “A likely story.”

“Do you ever stop talking?”

“Not if I can help it.”

Despite yourself, you laughed—a small, involuntary sound that you quickly tried to stifle. Fred noticed, of course, and his grin softened into something warmer, more genuine.

“Well, I’d hate to keep you from your important potion-related business,” he said after a moment, stepping aside to let you pass.

“Important quill-related business, actually,” you corrected, holding up the bag in your hand.

“Ah, of course. How could I forget?”

You shook your head, already turning to leave, but his voice stopped you.

“Wait,” he said, his tone shifting slightly.

You turned back, surprised to see something uncertain flicker across his face. It was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by his usual confidence, but it left you curious.

“Let me walk you back,” he said, gesturing down the street.

You hesitated, torn between instinctively brushing him off and the strange, unfamiliar pull you felt to say yes. In the end, the latter won out.

“Alright,” you said, falling into step beside him.

The walk back was filled with the kind of aimless chatter that felt oddly natural—Fred recounting some escapade involving a rogue charm and a very unhappy house-elf, you half-listening, half-watching the way his hands moved as he spoke.

When you finally reached your door, he paused, rocking back on his heels. “Well, this is me,” you said, nodding towards the entrance.

Fred nodded, his grin returning. “Good to know. I’ll keep this in mind for next time.”

“Next time?”

“Sure,” he said, already stepping away. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

And with that, he turned and walked off, leaving you standing in the doorway with a faint smile and a strange, fluttering feeling in your chest.

&

The weeks that followed your second encounter were marked by an unexpected rhythm.

Fred had a way of showing up—not at your door like expected, but in the spaces in between. He had a knack for making himself unavoidable, though never in an overbearing way. You’d catch him at the tea shop near your office, juggling two mugs precariously in his hands and grinning at you as if it were fate. Or in the park, where he’d be charming a group of kids with conjured fireworks, his laughter echoing over the treetops.

“I swear, you’re everywhere,” you said one afternoon when you bumped into him yet again outside Flourish and Blotts.

“Or maybe you’re just not very good at avoiding me,” he replied, his grin maddeningly confident.

Despite your best efforts, the barriers you’d carefully constructed began to shift, piece by piece. It started with the smallest of gestures—him carrying your books when your arms were full, sneaking you a bag of your favorite sweets when he somehow discovered your weakness for honey drops. The conversations, too, began to stretch beyond the surface, slipping into territory you weren’t entirely comfortable with but couldn’t resist exploring.

“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone,” Fred said one evening, his voice softer than usual.

You had both ended up in the same quiet corner of The Leaky Cauldron—pure coincidence, or so he claimed. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, and for once, his usual smirk was nowhere to be found.

“Why would I do that?” you asked, deflecting with a raised eyebrow.

“Because I’d like to know,” he said simply.

You hesitated, your fingers brushing the rim of your mug. The question had an intimacy to it that made you feel vulnerable, and yet, there was something about the way he looked at you—like he could see straight through the walls you kept up.

“I’m scared of not being good enough,” you blurted before you could stop yourself.

Fred blinked, surprised by your honesty, but his expression quickly softened. “Good enough for what?”

“For anything. Everything,” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not,” he said firmly, his gaze steady. “And for the record, I think you’re more than good enough.”

The moment lingered, delicate and raw, before you cleared your throat and changed the subject. Fred let you, but the look in his eyes stayed with you long after you’d said goodnight.

As time passed, your world seemed to orbit closer to his. He found reasons to seek you out, and you found yourself looking forward to his presence, even when you tried to convince yourself otherwise.

One evening, he brought you to his joke shop after hours, proudly showing you prototypes of new products. His enthusiasm was infectious, his face lighting up as he explained the intricacies of a new line of trick wands.

“Why do I feel like you’re trying to recruit me?” you teased as he handed you one to test.

“Because I am,” he said without hesitation. “You’d be great at it. You’ve got a good eye for details, and you don’t take my nonsense too seriously.”

“Someone has to keep you grounded.”

Fred grinned. “Exactly. That’s why you’re perfect for the job.”

You laughed, shaking your head, but something warm and unspoken passed between you.

It wasn’t long before people began to notice.

The first comment came from a colleague at work, offhand and seemingly harmless. “You and Fred Weasley seem awfully friendly,” they said, their tone laced with just enough curiosity to make you feel self-conscious.

The whispers followed soon after—barely audible at first but growing louder with each passing day. Fred’s reputation preceded him, and people were quick to remind you of it.

“Everyone knows he’s a flirt. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“He’s not exactly the relationship type.”

The words wormed their way into your mind, sowing seeds of doubt. You began to notice the way people looked at you when you were with him, their gazes heavy with judgment or pity.

Fred, oblivious to the change, continued to treat you the same—warm, attentive, and maddeningly Fred. But the whispers weighed on you, and before long, you found yourself pulling back.

The first time you ignored his owl, it felt like a betrayal. The second time, it felt like self-preservation. By the third, it had become a habit.

Fred noticed, of course, though he didn’t understand.

“Have I done something wrong?” he asked one day, cornering you outside the tea shop where he’d so often ‘accidentally’ run into you.

“No,” you lied, refusing to meet his eyes.

“You’re avoiding me.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

The hurt in his voice was almost too much to bear, but you held firm. The walls you’d rebuilt were sturdy now, bolstered by fear and the voices of those who’d warned you to stay away.

Fred watched you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before stepping back. “Alright,” he said quietly. “If that’s what you want.”

You told yourself it was. But as he walked away, the ache in your chest suggested otherwise.

The days after your confrontation with Fred dragged on, every hour stretching unbearably long. You told yourself you were doing the right thing, retreating before you got too close, before the inevitable heartbreak. But the certainty that had driven you to push him away began to waver in his absence.

You didn’t realize how much space Fred had occupied in your life until it was suddenly empty. The silence felt heavier now. Your tea breaks were lonely, lacking his easy laughter. Even the parks seemed duller without the sound of him enchanting children with his conjured fireworks.

Work became a refuge—a place where you could bury yourself in tasks and avoid thinking about him. But even there, his presence lingered. The bag of honey drops he’d given you sat unopened in your desk drawer. You’d thought about tossing it a dozen times, but your hand always hesitated, as though getting rid of it would make the loss of him too real.

It was during one of these long, quiet days that you overheard them.

“I heard she’s been seeing Fred Weasley,” someone said behind you in the tearoom.

Your stomach dropped, and you froze, pretending to stir sugar into your tea.

“She’s deluded if she thinks he’s serious about her,” another voice replied. “Fred Weasley doesn’t settle down. She’s just a bit of fun, like all the others.”

Their laughter echoed in your ears, sharp and grating. You forced yourself to walk out calmly, but their words stayed with you. By the time you got home, they’d grown into a roar in your mind, impossible to ignore.

He deserves better. Someone more exciting, more confident. Someone who isn’t scared of taking up space in his life.

The thoughts clawed at you as you sat at your desk, staring at the parchment in front of you.

You don’t belong in his world.

Your hand moved before you could stop it, the quill scratching out the words you thought would sever the tie cleanly. The letter was short, clinical, void of the emotions tearing through you.

“Fred, I think it’s best we go our separate ways. Thank you for everything. Take care.”

The owl flew off with it before you could change your mind, its silhouette disappearing into the night. The moment it was gone, the finality of it hit you like a curse.

You curled up in bed that night, the ache in your chest feeling like a physical weight. You told yourself it was for the best. But deep down, you started to think you’d made a mistake.

You waited for him to show up at your door, demanding answers in his usual larger-than-life way. But Fred didn’t come.

At first, you convinced yourself that his silence was proof that you were right—he wasn’t serious about you. But as the days turned into a week, the void he left behind became unbearable.

It was Alicia who finally forced you to confront it.

“You’ve been sulking for days,” she said, plopping down on your couch uninvited. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” you mumbled, not looking up from the book you weren’t actually reading.

Alicia snatched the book out of your hands, her sharp gaze piercing. “You don’t look like this over ‘nothing.’ Spill.”

You hesitated, but the words came spilling out anyway—the whispers, the letter, the crushing fear that you’d never be enough for someone like Fred.

When you finished, Alicia looked at you as though you’d just told her you planned to live on the moon.

“You’re an idiot,” she said bluntly.

“Thanks,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands.

“I’m serious,” Alicia said, her voice softening. “Fred isn’t like that. Not with you. Do you have any idea how he lights up when he talks about you?”

Your chest tightened at her words, but you shook your head. “He’s Fred Weasley. He lights up for everyone.”

“No,” she said firmly. “Not like this. Trust me, I’ve seen him flirt a hundred times. This isn’t flirting, love. He’s serious about you. And if you can’t see that, you’re going to regret it.”

Her words haunted you that night as you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. By the time morning came, you knew you couldn’t leave things as they were.

The shop was quiet when you arrived, the familiar smell of wood polish and faint smoke lingering in the air. You knocked hesitantly, and Fred appeared in the doorway moments later, his expression unreadable.

“Hey,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Fred stepped aside without a word, letting you in. The silence between you was suffocating, the usually lively space feeling oddly hollow.

You fidgeted with the edge of your sleeve, searching for the right words. “I—”

Fred cut you off. “Why are you here?” His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it that made your chest tighten.

“I… I wanted to explain,” you said, your throat dry.

“Explain what?” he asked, his arms crossed. “Why you decided to shut me out without a real reason?”

The hurt in his voice cracked something inside you. “I was scared,” you admitted. “Of getting hurt. Of not being enough.”

Fred stared at you for a long moment, his expression softening as he stepped closer. “Why would you think that?”

“Because everyone says—”

“To hell with what everyone says,” Fred interrupted, his voice fierce. “I don’t care what they think. The only person whose opinion matters is yours.”

You swallowed hard, your voice trembling. “I didn’t know if you were serious. About me.”

Fred reached out, taking your hands in his. “I’m as serious as it gets,” he said quietly. “But I can’t make you believe that. You have to let yourself believe it.”

The tears you’d been holding back spilled over, and Fred gently pulled you into his arms. His embrace was warm, steady, and everything you hadn’t realized you’d needed.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered against his chest.

Fred pressed a kiss to your hair, his voice soft but certain. “You’re the only one I want.”

When you finally pulled back, his hands lingered on your face, his thumbs brushing away the last of your tears. The look in his eyes was so full of warmth and determination that you felt the last of your doubts dissolve.

When he kissed you, it wasn’t just a promise—it was a beginning.

[rosieswriting]

Closer than ever

Remus Lupin x Potter!reader

Summary: After years of friendship filled with banter, study sessions, and always having each other’s back, a certain Gryffindor victory shifts everything between them. The lines they’ve carefully walked for so long start to blur, sparking a new closeness neither can ignore.

Note: english is not my first languaje so it probably has some mistakes!

Words: 1,9K

It was a Sunday morning, and the first days of spring had brought a warm glow over Hogwarts. The Gryffindor team had been training all morning under their new, overly enthusiastic captain—your brother, James Potter—who was determined to crush Slytherin in the upcoming match.

“We’re telling you, Moony, he’s going to be the death of us!” Sirius groaned dramatically to Remus and Peter, clutching his chest with exaggerated despair. The table broke into chuckles, everyone except James.

“You’re exaggerating,” James said, taking a long sip of his orange juice, looking unimpressed.

“He’s really not, Jamie,” you interjected, giving him a pointed look. “It’s barely nine in the morning, and we’re here, fresh from a two-hour training session, just trying to enjoy breakfast,” you added, taking a bite of your toast.

James shrugged, grinning. “When we beat Slytherin, you’ll all be thanking me.”

You and Sirius shared an eye roll, and Peter and Remus gave a small laugh. Soon, the Marauders shifted the conversation to other things—something about their latest plan to prank the Ravenclaws—but you tuned them out, savoring the warmth of breakfast and the rare spring sun filtering through the Great Hall.

Beside you, Remus leaned in, speaking softly. “Are you still up for the study session with Lily later? Or do you want to take it easy after practice?”

Since your first year, Remus had always been the one to help you with studies when you needed it. Weekly study sessions had become a tradition, and once Remus and Lily had grown close, she’d started joining you too.

“I’m still up for it,” you replied, turning to smile at him. “I have an essay due on that Goblin War of 1882, or something like that.”

“Oh, yes, I remember that one from last year,” he said with a grin. “I’ve got you covered. Same time in the library?”

“Same time,” you confirmed.

Later that afternoon, you made your way to the library, books and notes in hand. As you entered, you spotted Remus already sitting at your usual table, a few books spread out in front of him. He looked up, giving you a warm smile as he waved you over.

“Hey! Ready to tackle the Goblin War of 1882?” he greeted with a grin, sliding a seat out for you.

“Not really, but I’ll try,” you replied with a laugh, settling down beside him.

As you set up your notes, you noticed that Lily was nowhere to be found. "Where’s Lily? Don’t tell me she bailed on us,” you joked, glancing around.

Remus chuckled, shaking his head. “She did, actually. But only for a good reason—your brother convinced her to go for a walk around the lake.”

“Of course he did,” you muttered, rolling your eyes but smiling at the thought of James finally winning Lily over enough to steal her for a date. “Guess it’s just us, then.”

“Just us,” he repeated his tone light but with the slightest hint of something softer, and you couldn’t help but feel a warm flutter in your chest.

Remus pulled one of the books towards you, flipping to a section he’d marked. “So, for your essay, you’re supposed to cover the lead-up to the war, right? I found a few bits in here that might help.”

“Thank Merlin you’re here,” you sighed, leaning in to read over his shoulder. The proximity made your face warm, and you quickly turned your attention to the book to avoid giving yourself away.

He started explaining the notes he’d gathered, his voice soft and steady as he walked you through the political tensions and key events leading up to the conflict. You noticed how his hands moved as he spoke, gesturing in small, precise movements, and how his face lit up slightly as he explained things. There was something calming about the way he taught—like he wasn’t just helping you study but making it genuinely enjoyable.

After a while, he paused, his gaze lingering on you a little longer than usual. “You’re actually getting this down quicker than I thought.”

“Are you doubting my historical expertise, Lupin?” you teased, glancing up at him with a smirk.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not at all, but you did look a bit horrified earlier at breakfast when you mentioned the essay.”

You laughed, nudging his shoulder playfully. “Alright, fair point.”

A comfortable silence settled over you both as you continued writing, only broken occasionally by quiet questions and shared glances that made your heart race more than you’d like to admit.

Eventually, your attention drifted back to Remus, his brow furrowed in concentration as he scanned through one of the history books. “You know, I never did get why you’re always so patient with me about this stuff.” You said softly “You know you don’t have to keep impressing James to be your friend, right?” you added playfully.

He looked up, surprised by the question but with a fond smile playing at his lips. “I know” he answered chuckling “I like spending time with you.” he replied simply, his voice barely above a whisper.

You felt a blush rising to your cheeks, and the air between you grew warm. “Well… I like spending time with you too,” you murmured back, feeling bolder than usual.

For a moment, you just looked at each other, the silence now filled with unspoken words and the quiet buzz of the library around you. Neither of you moved, and neither did anything to break the spell. Instead, you just smiled, feeling flustered and shy, but somehow happier than you’d been all day.

Remus cleared his throat softly, breaking the silence but not the mood. “So… back to the Goblin War?”

You laughed, nodding. “Back to the Goblin War.”

And, as you returned to your notes, you couldn’t help but wonder if, maybe, this little spark between you both was something he felt too.

A week after, the Gryffindor common room was a blur of red and gold, filled with cheers and music as everyone celebrated their win over Slytherin. As one of the Chasers, you’d played a crucial role, weaving through the Slytherin defense and scoring more than once, and your teammates and friends hadn’t stopped congratulating you since.

As you moved through the room, basking in the praise and warmth of your friends, Remus caught your eye from across the room. He was leaning against the wall, holding a cigarette and smiling softly as he watched you. You made your way over to him, dodging tipsy students and sidestepping Sirius, who was in the middle of a very dramatic retelling of the match to a group of fourth years.

“Hey,” he greeted, taking a drag of his cigarette. “You were incredible out there.”

“Thanks, Rem.” You grinned, taking a sip from your own drink. “I’d say I had to be. Slytherin was definitely out for blood.”

“Tell me about it,” he chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you play like that.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “It is Slytherin, after all.” You smirked. “You know, I wish you could come up there with me.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’d have to use a Sticking Charm to keep me on that broom, but... maybe someday.”

You grinned, holding out your pinky. “I’ll hold you to that.”

He hooked his pinky with yours, giving you a look that made your heart skip. “Fine. But only if you promise you won’t laugh when I fall off.”

“Deal” you whispered, still caught in his gaze.

“Although I’m not sure if I’ll be as good as you” he said softly.

The compliment caught you a bit off guard, and you felt your cheeks warm slightly, though you brushed it off with a laugh. “Flattery now, Lupin? I’m not that easy.”

He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “Really? Could’ve fooled me. You looked over the audience about five times during the game, couldn’t keep your eyes off me.”

You laughed, nudging him. “Maybe you were distracting me.” You said playfully.

“Was I?” he asked, giving you that lazy, half-smile that made it impossible to tell if he was serious.

You smirked, folding your arms as you leaned in a little. “Yeah. You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

The words slipped out, and for a split second, you wondered if you’d gone too far. But instead of getting flustered, Remus just laughed, a deep, warm chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine.

He took a small step closer, his voice soft but playful. “So what if I do?”

Suddenly, you found yourself speechless, your usual confidence shaken by the way he was looking at you. Your heart raced, cheeks burning, and you tried to come up with a clever comeback but failed miserably.

Remus chuckled, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. “Didn’t expect that one, did you?” he teased gently, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering for just a moment.

You swallowed, feeling your pulse quicken as you looked up at him. “Shut up” you mumbled.

His smile softened, and he leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to stop him if you wanted to. But of course, you didn’t. You closed the distance, meeting him halfway, and his lips were warm and soft against yours, filling you with a heady rush that made the whole world fade away.

His hands settled on your waist, fingers pressing gently as he pulled you closer, making your heart race. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his shoulders, fingers finding their way into the soft strands of his hair, savoring the warmth radiating from him. The kiss was anything but rushed; it was slow, each movement filled with a quiet intensity that spoke volumes.

As the kiss deepened, you felt the world melt away, leaving only the feeling of his steady heartbeat against your chest, the gentle touch of his hands as he drew you impossibly closer, and the realization that you’d both been waiting, yearning, for this moment to unfold. When you finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his thumb brushing your cheek as he whispered, “You really are something, you know that?”

But just as you were about to say something, you heard someone clear their throat beside you.

You both turned to find James standing there, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. “Well, well,” he said, raising an eyebrow, “about time, don’t you think?”

You felt your face go hot, scrambling to explain yourself, but James just rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Please, I’m just glad you finally got around to it. Just… no public displays around me, alright?” He winked and clapped Remus on the shoulder. “She’s all yours, Moony. But you better take care of her, or I’ll be hexing you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of anything else, mate,” Remus replied, glancing at you with a smile that made your heart skip.

James gave you one last playful eye-roll before heading back into the crowd. And as you turned back to Remus, you felt that spark between you both grow even warmer, knowing that whatever this was, you weren’t the only one who wanted it.

“Again?” you ask him smiling widely, making him chuckle.

“Again” me muttered against your lips before kissing you.

[justaz]

arthur and all his knights know that merlin has magic (it’s a test leon sets up for each potential round table recruit, they follow merlin out while he’s doing magical things and leon falls behind for a bit to allow the potential recruit to find out merlin’s magic and then he rushes up all out of breath like “did i miss anything? :o” and if the potential recruit goes “nope! all good! he’s just gathering herbs :)” then leon tells arthur who allows them to sit at the round table) and arthur is secretly drafting a magic ban repeal along with all the laws of what kind of magic will be punishable by you know time in the dungeons, a fine, or banishment. merlin doesn’t know. the round table wants it to be a surprise.

anyway, some curse gets placed on camelot and they need a sorcerer and arthur + his knights watch gaius and merlin coming up with lies on the fly and cringing at how abysmal they are at lying and contemplating how they never found out sooner. gaius does the iconic line of “i have chosen a woman” as the sorcerer, or rather sorceress, to help them out. they have to hide their snickers at the look merlin sends him. uhh instead of the dolma this time tho, the potion turns him into a younger woman who merlin places the moniker of emrys upon.

merlin follows the knights out into the woods and starts his shenanigans. he conjures illusions of emrys to lead the knights all throughout the woods before transforming and meeting the illusion that led arthur astray. arthur is Staring bc hot damn is this sorceress hot- fuck its merlin…eh, merlin was always hot. it tracks he’d be hot as a woman. and she’s wearing purple! arthur always knew purple suited her. he expects emrys to be like dragoon or the dolma and be all sassy and witty but, well, she is witty! just…very, very flirtatious. arthur gets tongue tied at how touchy and seductive and alluring she is.

the other knights’ illusions lead them back together just without arthur and they’re chilling like “oh well, its merlin. he won’t hurt arthur”. emrys gives arthur the cure and brings him back to his knights who are surprised at the sudden appearance and draw their swords. emrys holds up her hands and smirks “i bring him unharmed,” then brings her fingers up to drag under arthur’s jaw, “can’t say much for being untouched.” she winks at arthur and waves her fingers at the knight, “see you around, arthur pendragon”

then she transforms back into merlin and appears behind the knights where lancelot gives him a Look to which he dutifully ignores. arthur asks where merlin is and the knights are like “he hasn’t returned” and merlin is like “hello?? yes i have?? i’m right here??” and the knights go “oh! there you are!! you were here the whole time!! i forgot :)” and merlin looks arthur up and down before teasing too much like emrys “got lucky with a sorceress, did you? imagine what your father would think” before turning and walking away leaving arthur. Hot. and. Bothered.

[imthesilentwriter]

A Mother Knows

Harry Potter x Wolfstar!Daughter!Reader

Summary: Over the course of the summer before sixth year, Lily notices certain interactions between you and Harry that seem more than friendly. Her suspicions are confirmed when she witnesses a special moment between the two of you.

Warnings: fluff, mentions of kissing, (I'm not sure what else :) )

Authors Note: Wow, it's been a minute! I've entered the most dreaded time... final exams... I have my first (of 6) exam's tomorrow. Which, to be fair, is absolutely terrifying. To be honest, I don't think I could handle any more studying, so, I've decided to try and write more oneshots, to... y'know clear the mind. I hope you do enjoy this oneshot!... even if it's being posted like, almost 2 weeks after the last one. Thank you! Enjoy!!

Word Count: 7720

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The platform is bustling with noise and movement – students waving goodbye to friends, trunks being hauled off the train, owls hooting from their cages. Steam rises from the scarlet red engine, swirling in the air like mist, while parents eagerly scan the crowd for their children.

“Are we still going to the Cannons’ match in July?” James asks, a grin spreading across his face. “I got us box seats, you know.”

Sirius snorts. “The Cannons? You’re making us watch them? Merlin, James, I thought we had better taste.”

Remus chuckles, shaking his head. “I think James just wants a front-row seat to the chaos. And maybe to see if they can manage to win one match this season.”

James laughs, nudging Sirius in the ribs. “What’s wrong, Padfoot? Scared they’ll finally surprise us?”

“I’d be more surprised if they made it through the match without knocking themselves out,” Sirius shoots back with a grin. “But sure, I’ll come. Someone’s got to keep you both entertained.”

Remus raises an eyebrow. “I think we’re going to need more than just your snide comments to make that game exciting.”

Lily, half-listening to their banter, scans the platform, her eyes darting through the crowd in search of her son. Finally, she spots him – Harry, stepping off the train with you by his side. There’s something different about them this time, though.

You both are standing impossibly close to one another, not leaving much room between the two of you. She can’t help but notice Harry’s gaze on you as you mouth words towards him. It’s soft, tender in a way she hadn’t seen before.

Remus raised an eyebrow and said, "I think we’re going to need more than just your snide comments to make that game exciting."

Sirius, feigning offense, replied, "Oi, my snide comments are the excitement. Admit it, you’d miss them."

James grinned and added, "Yeah, sure, Padfoot. Though I’m more excited about Harry showing off some new moves this summer. The kid’s going to be unstoppable."

When she turns her gaze back towards you and Harry, she sees him reaching for your luggage, his fingers brushing against yours in the process. You smile at him – that smile, the kind of smile that carries a meaning Lily can’t quite place, but it tugs at her heart, nonetheless.

Lily watches as Harry goes to pick up your shoulder bag, his hand brushing against yours, lingering just a second longer than necessary. You say something to him, and her laughs, the sound warm and genuine.

The way he looks at you – like you’re the only person on the platform – makes Lily’s chest tighten. There’s a gentleness in his movements, a protective instinct as he adjusts the strap on your bag and slings in over his own shoulder.

You don’t protest; instead, you smile at him in that familiar way, as if this has become routine, comfortable. Lily’s heart stirs with a mix of pride and something bittersweet as she realises just how much her son has grown – and how much he seems to care for you.

Sirius proudly declared, "I’m sure my daughter could give him a run for his money."

James chuckled and responded, "She already does, mate. But where are they? It shouldn’t take this long to get off the train."

Remus looked around, scanning the crowd, and said, "They’re probably taking their sweet time saying goodbye to everyone. You know how kids are – social butterflies."

Sirius frowned and asked, "It’s been ages, though. Lily, do you see them?"

Lily, absentmindedly still watching the crowd, replied, "They’re… just over there. By the luggage cart."

James raised an eyebrow and remarked, "Luggage cart? Still? What are they doing, planning an entire heist?"

Remus teased, "Maybe they’ve formed a secret alliance to avoid carrying their own bags."

Sirius then spotted them and grinned widely, exclaiming, "Ah, there they are! Oi, Harry! Kiddo! Get over here!"

James laughed and joined in, saying, "Yeah, before Sirius has a heart attack from waiting!"

Lily notices your startled expression at the sudden yelling, your eyes widening for just a moment before you regain your composure. Harry, on the other hand, takes it in stride, flashing that familiar, sheepish grin.

“Alright, alright! We’re coming!” Harry yells back, a hint of laughter in his voice as he glances at you. You roll your eyes playfully, nudging him with your elbow before both of you make your way over to the group.

Lily watches closely, her eyes catching the small, almost imperceptible details – the way Harry’s gaze lingers on you for just a second too long, the subtle closeness between your shoulders as you walk side by side. It’s as if you’re unconsciously drawn to each other, and though the others remain blissfully unaware, Lily sees it all.

Sirius grinned and exclaimed, "Finally! What took you two so long? Were you writing love letters on the platform?"

Remus chuckled and added, "or planning your escape from carrying all that luggage?"

James, with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face, remarked, "must’ve been deep in conversation about strategy for our Quidditch games."

Harry just laughed, shaking his head, while you offered a nonchalant shrug, trying to play along.

Harry grinned and replied, "yeah, something like that."

Lily teased, "well, next time, try not to keep us waiting too long. I’m sure Sirius was about to launch a full search party."

Sirius feigned indignation as he said, "I was not! I just-" He trailed off, catching himself and then admitted, "Okay, maybe a little."

Lily smiles softly, the warmth of the moment sinking in. The banter continues around her, light and full of laughter, but her thoughts are elsewhere – on her son and the quiet shift in his life.

The smell of roast chicken and fresh bread fills the Potter dining room as the family gathers around the large oak table. James is animated, waving his fork as he talks, recounting a tale of his latest mission at the Auror Office. Sirius is laughing along, his usual mischievous grin plastered on his face, while Remus sips his wine, smiling at his friends' antics.

You sit across from Harry, quietly listening, but your eyes occasionally flick to his. It’s subtle, barely noticeable, but Lily, from her seat at the head of the table, catches every lingering glance.

She watches as Harry, in between biting into his bread, keeps looking at you with a soft, almost tender expression that she hasn't quite seen before. There’s something unspoken between you, something that speaks louder than words.

"-so, we were staking out Knockturn Alley," James says, his fork poised midair, "and you wouldn’t believe it, this bloke just waltzes right past us, like he didn’t even notice we were there!"

"Probably didn’t," Sirius snickers. "You’ve got no subtlety, mate."

James scoffs, his glasses slipping slightly down his nose. "Oi, I’m subtle when I need to be!"

Everyone laughs, but Lily is distracted. She notices the way Harry’s eyes find you again, his gaze soft, lingering just a second longer than it should.

You meet his eyes, and there’s that flash of recognition, a smile tugging at your lips before you quickly look away, focusing on your plate. You seem flustered, like you're trying to keep something hidden.

"Y/N," Sirius calls over the table, oblivious to the exchange, "You’ll back me up here, won’t you? James is always messing up the simple stuff, right? You wouldn’t want him as your Auror partner."

You laugh, but there’s a slight hesitation to it. "I don’t know if I should get involved in this one," you reply, your voice light, though your eyes dart quickly to Harry again. He smiles at your answer, his grin softening just for you.

Lily feels something tighten in her chest, the realization slowly settling in. She glances at Remus and James, who are completely engrossed in their conversation with Sirius about the latest dark wizard they’re tracking, none of them noticing the subtle shifts. It’s as if the rest of the room fades away, and it’s just Harry and you in your own little world.

Harry reaches for the bowl of potatoes, offering them to you before anyone else. "Want some?" he asks, his voice gentle, almost careful.

You nod, your fingers brushing his as you take the bowl from him. There’s a moment – a flicker of something deeper – before you both snap out of it, returning to the larger conversation as if nothing happened. But Lily saw it, the way your cheeks flushed, and the way Harry’s hand lingered just a second too long.

"How’s the investigation going, anyway?" Remus asks, his voice pulling Lily back into the moment.

"Not too bad," James responds eagerly. "We’re closing in, just need to catch the bastard in the act. Shouldn’t be long now."

"And we’d catch him a lot faster if James could keep his head down for five minutes," Sirius teases, grinning. "Always getting caught out by something shiny, aren’t you?"

"That’s rich, coming from you!" James shoots back, laughing.

Everyone joins in, the laughter loud and bright, but Lily’s gaze is still on you and Harry. You steal another quick glance at him, and he, seemingly unaware that his mother is watching, grins back at you in that same gentle, knowing way.

Lily’s heart stirs. The signs are all there, so small that no one else notices, but to her, they are unmistakable. You and Harry – there’s something more, something deeper than friendship, and now that she’s seeing it, she can’t unsee it.

The summer sun shines brightly over the Potters’ backyard, the smell of fresh-cut grass mixing with the inviting scent of grilled food. The pool sparkles under the sunlight, its water cool and inviting as laughter echoes from the edge. Towels are scattered across the lawn, and the atmosphere is relaxed and carefree, the perfect family day.

Lily watches from her lounge chair, a glass of iced tea in hand, as Harry and you sit together at the edge of the pool, your feet dangling in the water. You’re both soaked, dripping from your recent swim, and Harry's hair is messier than usual, plastered to his forehead. You’re laughing at something he just said, your face lit up with amusement. There’s a playfulness between the two of you that seems different today, something more intimate.

Without warning, Harry flicks a handful of water at you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. You yelp, splashing him right back, and soon both of you are engaged in a playful battle, water flying as you try to outdo each other. Lily can’t help but smile at the scene, but as she watches more closely, she begins to notice things she hadn’t seen before.

You and Harry are sitting closer than usual – almost too close for what would be considered casual. Your hands brush as you move, and while you both quickly pull away, the small, lingering touches are hard to ignore.

Every now and then, Harry’s gaze lingers on you just a second too long, his smile softer, warmer. When he laughs, it's like the sound is meant just for you.

Lily sips her tea, her eyes narrowing slightly as she watches the way you laugh at Harry’s joke, an inside joke, judging by the way your eyes twinkle with shared understanding. The rest of the family, Sirius, James, and Remus are off by the grill, completely oblivious to the shift in dynamic.

But Lily sees it – sees the way Harry gently nudges you with his shoulder, the way your hand instinctively rests on his arm for just a moment before you remember yourself and pull away.

It’s all subtle, so easy to miss if you’re not paying attention. But Lily is paying attention now.

Harry suddenly stands up, offering you his hand to help you up from the pool’s edge. "C’mon, Y/N," he says, that soft smile still playing on his lips. "I won’t splash you again, promise."

You roll your eyes, but you take his hand, and the way your fingers curl into his doesn’t escape Lily’s notice. You stand beside him, your shoulder brushing his as you both make your way to the picnic table where everyone else is seated.

There’s a closeness there, a quiet comfort that has always been present between you and Harry, but today it feels… different. More deliberate. More tender. Lily watches as you both sit down, slightly apart, but still close enough that your arms almost touch.

You catch Harry’s eye again, and though the moment is fleeting, the smile you share speaks volumes.

Lily’s heart tightens. It’s not that she’s surprised – Harry has always been close to you, and you’ve known each other for years – but now, in this quiet, unspoken way, she’s starting to see the truth. The small moments, the hidden touches, the way you both light up around each other… they’re no longer just friends.

And for the first time, Lily wonders if maybe they haven’t been for quite a while.

Lily stands in the quiet kitchen, the hum of the refrigerator the only sound breaking the evening stillness. She fills a glass with cool water, her thoughts drifting as she waits for the glass to fill. The soft glow of the moonlight filters through the window, casting a gentle light on the countertops, and she glances outside, her gaze drawn to the garden.

It’s then she sees them.

Under the expansive blanket of stars, you and Harry sprawled on the grass, their figures outlined against the shimmering night. They lie close together, a warmth radiating between them that Lily can almost feel from where she stands.

Harry has his arm draped over you, fingers idly playing with your hair, while you lean into him, your head nestled against his shoulder. They seem oblivious to the world around them, lost in their own little universe.

Lily’s heart swells as she watches. Their body language speaks volumes – Harry’s hand cradles yours, their fingers intertwined, while the closeness of their faces suggests a bond that goes beyond mere friendship.

They share quiet laughter, the kind that seems to bubble up from a deep-seated happiness, and for a moment, Lily is entranced by the tender scene unfolding before her.

She sips her water, careful to keep quiet, not wanting to interrupt this precious moment. She knows they’ve snuck out – Harry has a tendency to bend the rules when it comes to you – but she doesn’t mind. Not tonight. The joy radiating from them is a welcome sight, a reminder of the innocence of youth and the sweetness of first love.

In the moonlight, Harry glances down at you, his expression softening as he catches your gaze. You smile up at him, a smile that lights up your face, and Lily can’t help but smile herself.

It’s clear they haven’t shared their feelings with anyone yet, keeping their blossoming relationship a secret, but Lily knows. She sees the way they look at each other, the way they are together, and it fills her with a sense of warmth and pride.

You laugh at something Harry says, your laughter ringing like music in the still night, Lily feels a bittersweet pang in her chest. She knows this time is fleeting, these moments of pure bliss will eventually shift into something more complicated as they grow up. But for now, she cherishes the sight of you and her son, wrapped up in their own little world, oblivious to everything else.

After a moment, she quietly retreats into the kitchen, letting them have their space, knowing that this is a memory she’ll carry with her. A moment of magic, hidden under the stars.

The evening has come to a gentle close, the once lively hum of conversation now reduced to soft murmurs as the last few guests filter out of the house. Plates, cups, and party decorations are scattered across the living room, remnants of the night’s gathering. Lily stands in the kitchen doorway, observing the scene with a satisfied sigh, already bracing herself for the inevitable clean-up.

Harry is lingering by the door, chatting with James and Sirius, but something catches his eye. You’re crouching by the coffee table, collecting stray cups and stacking them in a neat pile. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he watches you for a second, and Lily notices that soft look in his eyes – the same one she’s been catching more and more recently.

Without a word, Harry breaks away from the conversation, crossing the room to where you’re picking up a plate that teeters on the edge of falling.

“Hey,” he says, voice warm and casual. “Let me help with that.”

You look up, startled but smiling, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. “Oh, thanks, but it’s fine. I’ve got it.”

“I know you do,” Harry replies with a grin, reaching down to pick up a few more plates. “But it’ll go faster if I help. Plus, I don’t mind.”

They exchange a glance, and Lily, leaning against the kitchen counter, can see the way their faces soften when they look at each other. There’s something gentle in the way they smile – like they’re sharing a secret, like the whole room fades away whenever they’re together.

You let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “Okay, fine. But don’t blame me if you end up with dish duty.”

Harry chuckles, stacking a few cups in his hand. “I’ve faced worse.” He winks at you, and your laugh echoes softly through the room.

As they work together, their movements fall into an easy rhythm. Harry is close – closer than necessary, really – but Y/N don’t seem to mind. He hands you plates without you asking, their hands brushing lightly with each exchange, and each time it happens, they both glance up at each other, eyes sparkling.

Lily notices how Harry stays by your side, making sure you don’t carry too much, subtly taking the heavier load without making a fuss. When you reach for a large stack of plates, Harry steps in front of you with a playful smile.

“Here, let me get that,” he says, lifting the stack before she can protest.

You cross your arms, giving him a mock stern look. “You’re making me look bad, Potter.”

Harry grins at you, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Just being chivalrous. You can thank me later.”

Lily suppresses a smile, pretending to be absorbed in cleaning the counter but really watching the two of them from the corner of her eye. There’s something unspoken in their interactions, a bond so clear that it makes the simplest moments – like cleaning up after a party – feel intimate. She can see it in the way Harry’s always drawn to you, how he goes out of his way to be near you, as if it’s second nature now.

They finish clearing the table, but Harry stays close to you, picking up a stray cup even though the bulk of the mess is already gone. You don’t seem to mind his presence, and Lily can tell by the way they keep stealing glances, their eyes meeting and holding for a beat too long.

“Thanks for helping,” you say quietly, your voice sincere. “I didn’t think you’d want to stick around for the boring part.”

Harry shrugs, smiling at you. “Anytime. Besides…” He hesitates for a moment, his gaze lingering on your face. “I don’t mind as long as I’m with you.”

Your cheeks flush slightly, and you duck your head with a small smile, busying yourself with wiping down the table to avoid meeting his gaze.

Lily’s heart swells as she watches them. She’s always been aware of the bond between you and Harry, but moments like this make it undeniable. It’s not just friendship or affection. There’s something deeper, something glowing between them, like they bring out the best in each other just by being close.

The room is quiet now, the clatter of dishes and laughter replaced with a kind of peaceful contentment. You and Harry finish tidying, but they don’t move apart. Even in the simple act of cleaning up, they’re glowing in each other’s presence, the connection between them unspoken yet unmistakable.

Lily watches them from her place in the kitchen, her heart warm with understanding. They don’t have to say anything for her to know what’s growing between them. It’s already there, shining in every glance, every smile, every small gesture. And though they’re not ready to share it with the world, Lily knows. It’s only a matter of time.

Lily tiptoes through the quiet house, the soft creak of the floorboards barely audible in the stillness of the night. The clock on the wall reads just after midnight – closer to 2 a.m., she thinks – as she heads into the kitchen for a glass of water.

As she nears the living room, something catches her eye. At first, she thinks it’s a shadow, but then she hears a soft sniffle – a quiet, muffled sound. Lily freezes, peeking around the corner, her hand halfway raised to turn on the kitchen light.

There, on the couch, is Harry. His arm is wrapped around you, curled into him, your face buried against his chest as if the world might shatter if you let go. His hand moves in slow, soothing strokes up and down your back, his lips close to your ear, whispering sweet words Lily can’t quite make out. You cling to him like he’s your anchor, the only thing keeping you grounded.

Lily’s heart tugs at the sight. She knows exactly why you need comforting tonight – your father, Remus, is out under the full moon, fighting the battle that comes with his condition. And though you have known your whole life what this night means, it doesn’t make it any easier.

Lily doesn’t need to get closer to see the red puffiness around your eyes, the way your shoulders shake slightly, even though you’re quiet now. You’ve been crying. And Harry… her sweet boy… is there, holding you together.

For a moment, Lily can’t move. She watches the way Harry cradles you like you’re something precious, whispering things only meant for your ears. His voice is soft but firm. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “It’s going to be okay, Starlight. I promise. I’m right here. I won’t let go.”

Lily feels something stir deep within her at the tenderness in Harry’s words, the nickname Starlight. She’s heard him call you that in passing, but here, in the dim glow of the room, it carries a deeper meaning – an intimacy she hadn’t quite registered before.

She watches Harry pull you closer, if that’s even possible. His arms wrap around you tighter, as if trying to shield you from every pain in the world. And you, for all your quiet strength, look so fragile in this moment. The way you curl into him, your breath still a little shaky, makes it clear you only just stopped crying.

Lily’s heart aches, but it also swells with pride. Her son… her sweet, kind Harry… is exactly the person she raised him to be. Gentle. Compassionate. He’s the one you turn to, the one who can make you feel whole when everything else is spinning out of control.

When did this happen? she wonders, her gaze softening as she takes in the scene. She knew you were close, of course. You had always been a part of their lives, but this… this is different. The way you hold each other, how Harry’s entire focus is on you, as if nothing else in the world matters. Lily realizes then that this isn’t just friendship. It’s something much deeper.

They love each other, Lily thinks, her heart both heavy and warm at the same time. She’s seen love before – felt it in her own bones with James – but seeing it blossom between her son and you are something else entirely. She didn’t expect to see it so soon, but it’s undeniable now. The way Harry whispers your name, the way you seem to find comfort in his touch alone.

Harry’s voice breaks through her thoughts again, soft and gentle as he reassures you. “Your dad’s going to be alright. Just breathe with me, okay? We’ll get through this together.”

You nod weakly, sniffling into his chest, your fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt. “I know… I just hate waiting. I feel so helpless.”

“I know,” Harry soothes, his thumb brushing against your shoulder in slow circles. He wipes away your tears with the pads of his fingers, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead as if he could kiss away all your worries. “But you’re not alone, Y/N. You’ve got me. You’ve got all of us. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Lily can barely breathe. There’s something about Harry’s words that feels almost sacred in this moment. He’s so sure, so steady, offering you the kind of comfort that only comes from someone who truly understands the weight of your worry. It’s more than just words; it’s a promise.

She can feel the depth of your connection now, the unspoken bond between you that has quietly grown over the summer. Maybe longer, she muses, realizing how blind she’s been to this. But now that she sees it, she can’t unsee it.

You’re in love. And it’s the kind of love that warms her heart to witness. Harry isn’t just comforting you tonight because he’s a kind friend – he’s holding you because he needs to, because he can’t stand to see you in pain.

Lily stands there for a few more moments, not wanting to intrude. She feels a swell of pride, mixed with a bittersweet realization that her little boy isn’t so little anymore. He’s growing up, finding his own path, just like she and James once did.

With a soft sigh, Lily turns on her heel, quietly retreating back down the hall. She doesn’t need to say anything. Not tonight. You have your moment, and it’s yours to keep. As she heads back upstairs, she allows herself a small smile, knowing that Harry is exactly where he needs to be, with the person who makes him happy.

The living room buzzes with energy as James shuffles the cards with a dramatic flair, his brow furrowed in mock concentration. “Right, everyone, brace yourselves,” he declares. “Tonight’s the night I finally beat all of you – and you can’t blame your bad luck on the moon, Moony.”

Remus snorts, leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed. “Considering I’ve beaten you the last three game nights, I’d say luck has nothing to do with it.”

“Remus, I’ve been letting you win,” James retorts, grinning as he deals the cards, throwing them to each player with exaggerated force. “It’s all part of my long-term strategy to lull you into a false sense of security.”

“Is that what we’re calling your losing streak now?” Sirius quips from the other side of the table, his feet kicked up on an ottoman, his eyes lazily scanning his cards. “Because, mate, I was starting to think you’d peaked in your Quidditch days, and it’s been downhill ever since.”

“Excuse you,” James shoots back, faking offense. “I’m still in my prime. Potter magic never fades. Right, Lil?” He looks over his shoulder at Lily, who smirks from her spot on the couch.

“I don’t know, love,” she teases, shaking her head with a knowing smile. “You were just complaining about your back this morning.”

Sirius cackles, slapping the arm of his chair. “Potter, the Quidditch legend, brought down by back pain! You really are getting old, mate.”

“Oh, shove off, Pads,” James grumbles, though he’s laughing. “It’s all tactical. I’m pacing myself, saving my energy for the crucial moments.”

“Sure, sure,” Remus mutters, shaking his head as he gathers his cards. “Because complaining about your back is all part of a master plan.”

Lily chuckles quietly, her eyes drifting over the table to where you and Harry sit across from each other. Their banter continues to fill the room, but Lily notices how Harry’s eyes flick to you every time you adjust your cards. His expression softens in those brief moments, like he’s more interested in her than the game.

You, too, sneak glances at Harry, especially when he’s not paying attention. It’s subtle, but Lily catches every lingering look, every quiet smile, like they’re sharing something no one else in the room can see.

“Well, if we’re done with the lovebirds' reunion,” Sirius drawls, pulling Lily’s attention back to the game. “Shall we get this over with? Remus, I fully expect you to lose miserably this time. No excuses.”

Remus raises an eyebrow. “We’ll see, Pads. Though if I were you, I’d focus more on keeping up with the game and less on running your mouth.”

James laughs, flipping his first card onto the table. “Oh, you know he can’t help himself, Moony. It’s all part of his charm.”

Sirius opens his mouth to respond, but Lily notices that Harry has just made a clever move, earning a cheer from James. “Well played, Harry!” James calls out, though his grin is full of fatherly pride.

While the others are still reacting to Harry’s success, Lily notices how your face lights up. You shoot a proud, affectionate smile toward Harry, your eyes sparkling, though you quickly glance down at your cards again before anyone else can catch you.

Harry, seemingly aware of your admiration, glances your way and meets your eyes. His lips curl into a soft, almost secretive smile, one that’s just for you.

Sirius interrupts the moment, pointing at the cards on the table. “All right, no more distractions! Let’s see if Harry can keep this streak going, or if James’s legendary losing streak is contagious.”

“Oi!” James retorts, but it’s clear everyone’s having fun. Remus, always the voice of calm, rolls his eyes.

Lily, watching from the sidelines, can’t help but smile to herself. Even amid the playful banter and noise, Harry and yours quiet, unspoken connection stands out. They’re on the verge of something, even if no one else sees it just yet.

Sirius throws another playful insult across the table, and everyone laughs, but Lily’s focus remains on the two of them. No one else seems to notice the way Harry and you keep sneaking those glances at each other – except her. They’re playing their own game tonight, one that has nothing to do with cards.

The afternoon sun filters softly through the large windows of the Potter house, casting golden light across the garden. The last few minutes of lunch are winding down, the conversation at the table growing quieter as everyone settles into a relaxed, post-meal calm. Plates are scattered with crumbs, and empty glasses glisten in the sunlight. James and Sirius are still chatting, their voices loud and animated, while Remus listens quietly with a soft smile, nodding occasionally at their banter.

Lily sits back in her chair, her gaze drifting across the table to where Harry and you sit side by side. They’re not speaking much, but there’s a comfortable ease between them, a kind of unspoken understanding that Lily has become used to noticing.

Harry’s hand moves subtly under the table. It’s a small, almost imperceptible gesture, but Lily catches it. He slips something into your hand – something small, delicate. His expression remains neutral, but there’s a flicker of something playful in his eyes, something secretive.

Your fingers close around whatever it is, and your cheeks flush a soft pink. You glance quickly at Harry, a shy smile playing at the corners of your lips, and then down at your lap where your hand still holds the small gift.

Lily doesn’t need to see what Harry has given her to know it’s something meaningful. It’s the way they’re both trying to be discreet, as if they’re sharing a secret, just the two of them. Your blush deepens, and you bite your lip, trying to stifle your grin. You peek at the tiny object in your hand before tucking it away in your pocket.

Harry leans back casually, pretending to listen to James and Sirius’s conversation, but there’s a quiet satisfaction in his expression. His foot nudges yours under the table, a soft, playful touch that goes unnoticed by everyone except you – and Lily.

Your eyes flicker toward Harry, your smile growing. You lift your hand slightly under the table, as if to squeeze his fingers in thanks, but the moment is so brief, so subtle, it’s almost invisible. Almost.

But not to Lily.

She watches, her heart swelling with warmth. It’s such a small, tender thing – this exchange between them. A tiny note or perhaps a flower from the garden, passed between them like a secret promise. Whatever it is, it makes you glow, your usual calm demeanour softening into something more vulnerable and open. Harry, too, seems lighter, more at ease, like being close to her is enough.

Lily keeps her gaze on them for another beat, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. It’s clear they’re doing their best to keep this little gesture between themselves, but she can’t help but feel a sense of pride watching them. They’re careful, quiet about whatever is growing between them, but it’s undeniable.

James laughs loudly at something Sirius says, the sound breaking through the soft quiet of the moment. You shift in your seat, pulling your hand out of your pocket, your expression carefully neutral again, though your blush still lingers. Harry, ever so casual, stretches his arms over his head, flashing you another quick smile.

Lily turns back to the conversation around her, but the image of Harry and you, their subtle exchange, stays with her. It’s moments like this that make it all so clear – the way they move around each other, how even the smallest touches and quiet gestures hold so much meaning. They’re trying to keep their feelings hidden, but for Lily, it’s as obvious as the sunshine pouring through the windows.

She says nothing, though. There’s no need to rush them. Let them have their secrets. Let them enjoy these little moments for themselves, for now. Lily watches them out of the corner of her eye, and her smile lingers, knowing that, whatever it is they’re sharing, it’s something special.

Lily moves quietly through the hallway, a folded pile of laundry in her arms, when the soft murmur of voices catches her attention. It’s coming from the sitting room, and she recognises them instantly – Harry’s low, familiar tone and the softer voice of you.

She slows her pace, curious but careful, not wanting to interrupt. Their voices are hushed, intimate, and though she doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, something about the tension in the air makes her stop just outside the doorway.

“I just… I don’t know how much longer we can keep this secret,” Harry says, his voice carrying an undercurrent of vulnerability. "I mean, I hate that we have to hide it – us. You mean everything to me, Y/N."

There’s a pause, and Lily can practically hear the nervous energy between them. Your voice, softer now, almost hesitant, responds, “I know, Harry. I feel the same. But what if things change once everyone knows? What if-”

“They won’t,” he cuts her off gently but firmly. “Not for me. Not ever.”

Lily’s breath catches in her throat. She leans subtly against the wall, not daring to move, not wanting to miss a word. Harry sounds so sure, so ready to take that next step, and it’s clear to Lily what’s coming next. A confession. A leap.

There’s a moment of silence, and then Harry’s voice comes again, quieter now, almost as if he’s gathering his courage. “Y/N, I – there’s something I’ve been wanting to say. For a while now.” His words are filled with emotion, raw and unguarded. “I think I’m ready to-”

A sudden noise from the kitchen shatters the moment – Sirius, unmistakably, laughing loudly as he fumbles with something. The clattering of dishes follows, and you and Harry both fall silent, the intimate atmosphere broken in an instant.

Lily hears you let out a soft laugh, the tension between them easing, though she can tell they’re still lingering on the edge of something unspoken. “Of course,” you mutter, clearly trying to mask her disappointment with humour. "Always at the best part."

Harry chuckles too, but it’s strained, like he’s lost the momentum he had been building. "Yeah, typical timing."

Lily feels the weight of the moment slip away, but there’s no denying what she’s just witnessed. They’re both holding back, hovering on the brink of admitting how deep their feelings run, but something keeps stopping them. Maybe it’s the fear of what comes next – of sharing their love with the world – or maybe it’s simply the enormity of the words themselves.

As she listens to them exchange a few more quiet words, something stirs within Lily. She knows that this moment isn’t the last. Whatever Harry was about to say, whatever you were feeling, it’s only a matter of time before they find the courage to cross that line. It’s inevitable.

Smiling softly to herself, Lily moves away from the doorway, careful not to draw attention. She leaves them to their half-finished conversation, knowing that they’ll find their way back to it soon enough. And when they do, she’ll be ready for the day they finally share their secret with the world.

Lily stands at the dresser, brushing her hair, her eyes distant as she watches James change into his pyjamas. The room is warm, softly lit by the bedside lamp, casting a cozy glow over the space. James flops down onto the bed, stretching with a contented sigh, but he notices that Lily seems unusually quiet tonight.

He glances at her, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Alright, what is it? I can practically see the wheels turning in your head.”

Lily bites her lip, unsure of where to begin. She puts down her brush and turns to face him. “It’s about Harry,” she says softly, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

James props himself up on his elbows, intrigued. “Harry? What’s he done now? He’s not sneaking out to play Quidditch at midnight again, is he?”

Lily chuckles, shaking her head. “No, no… it’s not that.” She takes a deep breath, searching for the right words. “It’s about him and her.”

James raises an eyebrow, clearly not following. “Her?”

Lily gives him a look, as if it should be obvious. “Y/N.”

James sits up a little straighter, his curiosity piqued. “Ohhh, I see. What about them?”

Lily hesitates, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I think… I think they’re more than just friends, James.”

James’ eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Really? Harry? And Y/N?” He leans back, processing this information. “What makes you think that?”

Lily smiles softly, her thoughts drifting back to the moments she’s seen. “I’ve noticed little things, over the summer. They’re always together, which isn’t unusual, but… they’ve been holding hands when they think no one’s looking. And the way they glance at each other… it’s not just friendly. There’s something deeper there.”

James stares at her, a bit stunned. “Holding hands? Are you sure?”

Lily nods. “I’ve seen it more than once. And tonight, during dinner… I saw them giggling, soft little laughs that only they seemed to share. Harry even gave her something – a small gift, I think, but I couldn’t see what it was. She looked so happy, James. I’ve never seen him look at anyone like that before.”

James runs a hand through his hair, letting out a low whistle. “Blimey. I mean, I knew they were close, but… this is different. Our boy’s in deep, isn’t he?”

Lily lets out a small, wistful sigh, folding her hands in her lap. “I’ve been watching them, and it’s not just puppy love. I think they really care about each other.”

James watches her carefully, sensing there’s more to this. “You’re holding something back,” he says, his voice gentler now. “What else have you noticed?”

Lily hesitates, her cheeks warming slightly. “I… I saw them kiss,” she admits quietly, her eyes flickering up to meet his. “In the garden a few days ago. It wasn’t anything dramatic, just… sweet. Soft. But it felt like I was seeing something private, so I didn’t say anything.”

James blinks, clearly surprised but also slightly impressed. “Kissed? Harry?” He chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. “Our little Harry, snogging my best friend’s daughter. Merlin, I never thought I’d see the day.”

Lily lets out a soft laugh, though there’s a touch of emotion in it. “He’s growing up, James. Faster than I expected. And I know he’ll come to us when he’s ready to tell us, but… it’s strange, seeing it happen before our eyes.”

James moves closer, taking her hand in his. “It’s bound to be strange, love. We’ve had him to ourselves all this time, and now… well, he’s finding his own way. But if he’s found someone who makes him happy, then that’s all we can ask for, isn’t it?”

Lily nods, her voice soft. “I just wasn’t ready to see it. I’ve watched him grow from that little boy who’d follow me around everywhere, to this young man who’s falling in love.” She smiles, though her eyes are misty. “It makes me proud… and a little sad, all at once.”

James wraps an arm around her, pulling her close. “I get it. It’s hard watching them grow up. But you know what? He’s a good kid. And if he’s with her, I’m sure he’s doing alright. Besides, she’s practically family. Can’t imagine a better match for him.”

Lily leans into his embrace, finding comfort in his words. “I know,” she whispers. “I just hope they both know what they’re doing.”

James kisses the top of her head, smiling down at her. “They’ll figure it out, just like we did. Let them have their moments, and when Harry’s ready, he’ll come to us.”

Lily nods, feeling the weight lift slightly from her chest. “You’re right. We’ll wait. But it does make me happy, seeing him like this. He’s… different with her. Softer, more open. And she cares for him, I can tell.”

James grins, a teasing glint in his eye. “Just like you and me, then?”

Lily laughs, swatting his arm. “Don’t get too smug.”

“Can’t help it. He’s got my charm, after all,” James quips, waggling his eyebrows at her.

Lily rolls her eyes, but there’s affection in her smile. “You’re impossible.”

“But you love me anyway,” James says, pulling her down beside him with a grin.

Lily rests her head on his chest, the soft sound of his heartbeat calming her. “Yeah,” she whispers. “I do. And I’m sure, one day, Harry will feel the same way about her.”

James presses a kiss to her forehead, holding her close as they settle into bed, knowing that their boy is growing up, and trusting that, just like them, he’ll find his way.

[crescenthistory]

heeeyyyy I love your series with Barty! Can I request for a one shot where they weren’t dating already but the Yule Ball or some Ball is coming up and Barty asks reader to go with him and surprisingly they say yes? Love your work!

hey love! thank you for your kind works<3 i couldn't make the ball work with the timeline and everything, but i've written a hogsmeade dancing floor equivalent lmao

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader (she/her pronouns), no use of y/n, some suggestive flirting, bickering, featuring jegulus and most marauders era characters, dancing, pretending to hate each other

Note: this is set in the grumpy!reader/bickering series before reader and barty get together, so after part 1 and before part 2 and part 3 <3 not sure how i feel about this one

The Three Broomsticks was alive with music, chatter, and a constant hum of laughter. Tonight, every chair, booth and barstool was taken, every inch of the pub was packed with students, all celebrating the Hogsmeade weekend. The air was filled with a kind of rowdiness that had you wedged between Lily and Sirius, sandwiched in a booth that was definitely not meant for seven people.

Across the booth from you, James had his head turned not-so-subtly to the side, practically bending his whole body to get a better look at Regulus, where he was sitting at a table a few metres to your right. The Slytherin boy was not any better, giving James a shy wave that Barty promptly slapped away, with some offhand comment you couldn't hear.

Sirius, stretched out with his arms over the backs of the seats, ever making himself comfortable, looked displeased as he took in the sight. "Can they be any more obvious?" he muttered.

"Let them be," you drawled, half-amused, half-mocking. "Who knows, maybe it'll soften your baby brother's rough edges."

"As if." Sirius smirked, but his eyes softened just a bit.

Your gaze shifted to where Regulus sat, surrounded by friends – Evan and Dorcas in some animated discussion while Pandora seemed to be petting the wall beside her. Opposite Regulus was Barty, hands still all up in Regulus' space. Insufferable.

Even in the dimly lit pub, even in the middle of talking to his best mate, Barty's eyes found yours with the ease of somebody who had been looking far too long. He didn't move his gaze either, instead tilted his head with a smirk. You rolled your eyes, going back to chatting mindlessly with your own group of friends.

James, upon catching Regulus’ eye for about the fifth time in the past couple of minutes, threw his boyfriend a wink that caused him to practically swoon into his drink, promptly turning the colour of a ripe tomato. That was about when you couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” you said, barely able to hold back a snort.

“I know,” Sirius said, shaking his head. “They are simply so disgusting.”

“I can hear you, you know,” James huffed, but didn’t look too defeated as he smiled at Regulus once more. If you knew this is what him finally making a move would come to, you might have not encouraged him.

Lily chuckled, reaching over to give James a nudge. “It’s not disgusting, Sirius, it’s sweet. Not that you’d know what sweet looked like if it hit you over the head with a Bludger.”

“Well,” Marlene added, giving James a sly smile, “it is a bit too much on a rather empty stomach.” She leaned her chin in her hands, staring James down. “But seriously, how long do you reckon you two will keep up the pining act from opposite ends of the pub? You're dating aren't ya, go talk and stop making it everyone's problem.”

James opened his mouth to respond, but he was cut off by a loud, cheerful voice from beside the table.

“Why not ask him yourself?”

There, grinning like he had just won the Quidditch World Cup, was Barty, hauling Regulus close behind him, having decided it was high time to join in on the fun.

"I'd rather not," mumbled Sirius.

"Fantastic news that I wasn't talking to you then, Black."

There was no room for more people to cram into your little booth, but James solved that problem by promptly pulling Regulus onto his lap, ignoring Sirius' pained noise. The two of them immediately launched into soft, excited chatter, blissfully unaware of any and all proceedings around them from then on.

Barty, on the other hand, was still standing, and his gaze swept around the group, eventually landing on you with that familiar, aggravating gleam in his eyes. In this position, you see his t-shirt had its hem cut off and was riding dangerously high over his hips.

“Evening, Treasure,” he greeted with a lazy smirk, saying it with all the derision he could muster. “You look as miserable as always."

"Funny, I felt quite decent until you waltzed in," you shot back, barely looking at him.

"Was it because you were looking at me then instead?"

Lily furrowed her brows as she looked back and forth between Barty's flirty gaze and your tense expression. "Would that insinuate that you're decent to look at, but awful to speak to, Junior?"

"Yes," Sirius concluded before Barty could defend his case.

"I think decent to look at is a stretch," you mumbled into your butterbeer.

"Now we both know you don't mean that, Treasure." Barty winked at you, unaffected. "I'm happy to see you’re actually out tonight. Thought you’d be back in the library, plotting ways to charm your way through exams.”

“Only one of us has to charm our way through exams, Junior."

"Actually," Regulus for some reason beyond you, decides to chime in, reciting as if from memory. "He got 12 OWLs."

Barty just pointed at Regulus with a told you so look on his face.

Marlene let out a snicker at that. “Are you seriously fighting already? You've barely been here for five seconds." The last part was aimed at Barty, but the judgement in her gaze was for the both of you.

"You're acting like those old married couples who never shut up," Lily agreed.

“Oh, they wish,” Sirius chimed in, leaning in with a broad grin that dared you to disagree. “Unfortunately for Junior here, our dear friend hates him too much for that.”

Barty didn’t miss a beat. He leaned back, casually draping an arm across the back of the booth and raising an eyebrow at you. “You hate me that much, Treasure? I hadn’t noticed.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no ignoring the way he was looking at you, with a glint of challenge and something that looked just a little like amusement. “Hating you isn’t something I’d exactly consider a challenge.”

“Oh, but I’m always up for a challenge, and I know you are too,” he said, smirk widening as he shifted closer. “Is that why you keep looking my way? To make sure I’m suffering from all that scorn?”

Your friends exchanged amused glances, most of them failing to hide their grins as they watched the exchange unfold. Even James and Regulus, paused to look your way.

"You are aware that me looking at your table does not equal looking at you, right? We were mocking Jamie here." You ignored James' soft hey at that.

“And," you added pointedly, crossing your arms in defence. "If I were to look at you it would only be to ensure you don’t do anything stupid, Junior. Though, I fear that’s a losing battle.”

Barty didn’t waver, even as your friends gave varying degrees of laughter, clearly relishing in his – and maybe your – misery.

“Please, Treasure. There’s only one losing battle here, and it’s you trying to resist me.” Barty’s voice dropped to a murmur, and his words sent a shiver up your spine despite yourself. You hoped no one could tell.

Sirius nudged Remus. “Taking bets. How many seconds ‘till she hexes him?”

Remus chuckled, holding up his fingers. “Ten, at best.”

You shot them both a glare, and Barty laughed, a low chuckle that drew your attention back to him. “Well, Treasure,” he said, his voice just as taunting as ever, “think you’re up for one more challenge tonight?”

“Oh, Merlin,” you sighed, though your pulse sped up, aware of his hand still too close on the back of the booth. “What now?”

He leaned in, his gaze sliding briefly to the newly assembled dance floor in the middle of the Three Broomsticks, where more and more people were swaying to the groovy song that was playing. He didn’t look back at you right away, just enough to let you see his grin widen as he nodded in the direction of the music. “A dance. If you’ve even got it in you.”

There was a moment of stunned silence around the table, then loud, unabashed laughter. Lily was grinning, Marlene and James looked beyond entertained, and Sirius gave Barty a pitying shake of the head.

“There's no way you even tried that, mate,” he said, with a shrug of certainty. “She'll say no. You’d have better luck asking Nearly Headless Nick.”

“Oh, I’m counting on her saying no,” Barty replied, that trademark smirk still firmly in place. His eyes were locked on you now, a challenge shining in them that made your skin prickle.

Everyone was staring, eyes flickering between you both, waiting for you to deny him. Yet, spite bubbled in your stomach at that faux knowing look in his eyes, teasing you with some power you knew he didn't hold over you.

So: "It's on." You raised an eyebrow, matching his smirk. “I’ll dance with you.”

Barty’s grin faltered for just a split second, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly, and the surprise on his face was worth every second of this ridiculous charade.

It spurred you on.

Remus gave you an almost concerned look as you crawled over Lily to get out of the booth and face Barty, making sure to keep your chin up. Your fists were unconsciously curled by your sides and Regulus eyed them curiously.

“Knew you’d come around.”

“No, you didn’t.” You looked up through your lashes at that, and you swore you could see him gulp.

“Oh, well, this should be good,” Sirius muttered, looking around the table as if anyone else could see what he was. Marlene and Lily seemed to be the only ones who exchanged a knowing look, sizing the two of you up as you squared up against each other.

Barty didn’t waste any time. He took your hand, dragging you toward the dance floor with that signature air of self-assurance that was always just a little too smug. The moment you reached the floor, he turned to you, one hand sliding to your waist and pulling you in with far more familiarity than you believed he had any right to. It bothered you even more how natural it felt to you.

“Look at that,” he murmured as you started to sway in time with the music, his voice barely audible over the crowd. “Didn’t think you’d actually say yes.”

“I like keeping you on your toes,” you replied, rolling your eyes as you rested your hands on his shoulders, a bit closer than you had intended.

"Tell me," he drawled. "Do you really hate me as much as you pretend?"

"Even more." You raised a brow at him as you moved surprisingly elegantly together. "And it's not pretend."

"Liar." The smile playing over Barty's lips was coy. He dipped you – unnecessarily, might you add – and the smile widened as his face got closer to yours.

"I can still walk away, you know." You held his gaze, refusing to back down from this odd challenge between you.

"You could," he relents knowingly. "But you won't."

Barty’s fingers tightened just slightly at your waist, his gaze sweeping over you in a way that sent a flash of heat to your face. “Seems to me like you enjoy this as much as I do.”

As I do…

“Please,” you scoffed, but you could hear the slight edge in your voice, and his knowing look told you he’d caught it. “I’m just proving a point. Watching you struggle to keep up is its own reward.”

“Is that so?” His smirk softened into something more intense, his eyes searching yours as you swayed closer together. “Because from here, it looks like I’m the one with the upper hand.”

"You're embarrassing yourself, Junior. Looking entirely too pleased with yourself."

"And you," he replied in a low voice, head dipping slightly to be more in your line of sight. "Look entirely too interested."

"You wish." It was less biting than you had hoped for.

Before you could think of saying anything more, any words caught in your throat as he spun you, his hand steady and warm at the small of your back. You stumbled slightly, and he caught you, his other hand moving to your waist to pull you close again. That slightly cropped shirt of his rode up, and a piece of his bare skin was pressed against you, heat emanating from it. You had to force your eyes to remain either on his face or the background. Your heart was racing, though you fought to keep your face composed, determined not to let him see how much he was getting under your skin.

You decided to play dirty as well, and moved your hands that were around his neck so that your fingers brushed the exposed skin there. You bit back a grin when you saw him shiver, just ever so slightly.

Pushing your luck, you let your nails dig just slightly into his skin, enough for him to know it was deliberate, and you felt his chest hitch a breath against yours. You desperately wanted to shut him up, and this seemed to be working.

The song began to fade, but neither of you moved, the rest of the crowd and your friends seeming to melt away as you held each other’s gaze. His eyes flicked briefly to your lips before settling back on your eyes, and you felt a thrill of anticipation that you couldn’t let yourself fall into.

Your handy eye-roll broke whatever tension was there as you took a half-step away from him, letting your hands just barely brush your chest as they fell back to your sides. His smirk never left, but this time there was something else in his expression – an intensity that hadn’t been there before, a softening around his eyes as they held yours.

It was almost nice. Until he ruined it of course. 

"So, we're like, lovers now, right?" he teased, cocking his head at you.

“Nice try, Junior,” you said, your voice deliberately cool. “It’s going to take a lot more than one mediocre dance to impress me.”

“Mediocre? I dipped you.”

“Mediocrely.” 

You found yourselves grinning at each other at that.

Something you couldn't quite place, and perhaps didn't really want to, flashed across his face. “Challenge accepted, Treasure,” he murmured, his voice low and promising. "We don't back down from those, do we?"

Before you could respond, he let your waist go – that you had not realised still lingered in his grasp after you dropped your own hands – and made a mocking bow before he backed several strides away from you, eyes glued to yours. He held his hands up in an I'm innocent gesture before cackling as he turned around to stroll back to his friends. You kicked yourself for still looking at him when he threw you a grin over his shoulder.

You let out a breath, from the total exhaustion that is sparring with Barty Crouch Junior, heart still pounding as you made your way back to your friends. Marlene was grinning like she had just witnessed the scandal of the century, and even Remus and Sirius were exchanging looks, barely holding back their amusement.

“Well, that was… intense,” Lily said, eyebrows raised as she made room for you and handed you your drink. You hopped in beside her, cracking your neck that had grown stiff with tension.

“Oh, please,” you said, waving her off as you took a sip. “He’s insufferable as always.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know,” Sirius said, over your antics for the night.

As you glanced across the pub, catching Barty’s eye for just a second, you couldn’t ignore the way he was looking at you, his gaze lingering with a knowing smile, as if he had managed to peel back a layer of you that you tried to keep hidden.

And from the other side of the pub, his eyes still on you, Barty didn’t look away, his smirk softened into something genuine, something just for you.

[starcrossedslytherin]

Love Letters

Sebastian Sallow x Reader

WC: 1K

A/N: I don’t know how popular the Hogwarts legacy fandom is as of now because I’ve not been on tumblr, but I found this fic in my drafts(along with quite a few wips) and realized I never posted it so I thought I would feed the Sallow girlies a quick snack today.

Summary: Sebastian wants to write you a love letter to tell you about his feelings but it’s not going the way he hoped, even with Ominis’ help.

---

Ominis knows he shouldn’t be as amused as he is right now, but he can’t help it. It’s not often he gets to experience Sebastian embarrass himself so willingly.

Try as he does to suppress his chuckle, it slips out and Sebastian sighs, letting the several half written love notes spill onto the table in front of him.

“It’s not funny.” Sebastian practically pouts, glad his friend can’t see the expression on his face.

“I disagree.” Ominis taunts him with a grin, leaning back in his seat.

“I’ve been trying to write Y/N a note all afternoon! I just don’t understand why they sound so…”

“Awful?” Ominis jumps in. “Horrendous? Painfully cliche?”

“Oi, shut it.” Sebastian mutters, gently nudging Ominis’ foot under the table. He very much regrets asking his best friend for help now he knows how embarrassed he’d be.

He sighs before picking up all his papers, trying to find the best parts of them all. “Why don’t you read them again? Out loud, so I can hear.” Sebastian doesn’t see why Ominis asks him to do so, but he reads through the notes, pulling faces every time he gets to a rather cheesy part of the note.

When he finishes, he looks to Ominis, hoping he can give him any sort of feedback to fix this mess.

Ominis stays quiet for a moment, thinking Merlin only knows what until he says, “You make me wish I was deaf as well.”

Sebastian’s hands slap against the table as he gives up, annoyed with his inability to string together simple words to tell you how he feels and annoyed with Ominis’ lack of help. “Forget this.” Sebastian grumbles, crumpling up as many of the letters as he can.

Ominis sighs and puts his hand across the table, covering some of the papers and getting Sebastian to stop. “Just talk to her. Tell her how you feel.”

Sebastian pulls a face at the recommendation. “Tell her how I feel?” He repeats, starting to pace in his spot. “You mean, just walk up to her and tell her how beautiful I think she is? Or how any time she smiles at me, you, Anne or anything really, I can’t help but stare? How she is most likely the smartest and kindest person I have ever met? How anytime she’s in the room, I am most certain my heart will beat out of my chest with how fast she makes it? How each time I see her leave the castle on her little adventures, I fight myself on whether to go with because I need to know that she makes it back safe to me? To us? You think I should just walk right up to Y/N and tell I am absolutely in love with her?”

There was silence between the two boys after Sebastian’s speech and the brunette boy, exhausted mentally, falls in his seat in a slump. Ominis just sat there, gripping his wand tight in his hand as his lips gently pull up to the left. “Well,” he whispers, getting Sebastian’s attention, who frowns upon seeing his smirk, “I don’t think you have to worry about it anymore.”

Sebastian’s brows furrow and he was about to ask Ominis what he meant before the sound of a book clattering to the ground behind him has him whipping his hand around and he opens his eyes wide. There you were, frozen in your place as you struggle to keep more books from falling off the shelves.

“Sorry.” You mumble, trying to determine if you really were hearing what you think you were hearing. “And uh, sorry, I didn’t mean to- I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.

Sebastian nods at your reassurance. “How much did you hear?”

You wave your hand in the air. “Oh, well just, uh, just… everything.”

Well, that’s not what he wanted.

He turned to glare at Ominis, but the boy slipped out when you and Sebastian were focused on each other.

You glance down at the paper strewn across the table, ready to dismiss them before seeing your name on one of them. “What is that?”

Sebastian sighs, debating whether he could really show you his mess of notes. He nods, letting you fall into the seat next to him as you pick through the papers. You barely got through the first sentence of the very first letter before your eyes shoot to Sebastian’s.

“You.. you wrote me letters?” There was a deep blush on his face and he’d gone silent, but he nods. You stare at him, feeling your own cheeks heat up quite a bit before you turn back and read, picking a few sentences of each discarded letter. Your favorite ones were the ones Sebastian had scratched over with his quill, obviously being embarrassed of having written them, but you enjoyed them.

From the first moment we met, I knew there was something extraordinary about you.

I know what love is because I know you.

My darling, you are my rock, my confident, my ally, my friend, and so much more.

“Bash…” you mumble, blinking repeatedly to keep your tears from spilling out.

“I couldn’t find the right words.” He whispers, picking up a few of the letters and holding them. “I had Ominis try to help me, but I don’t think he was particularly helpful.” You chuckle, imagining Ominis trying to help Sebastian.

Your laugh fades out as you put your hands on top of Sebastian’s and your eyes meet. Your stomach flutters with nerves and adoration. “I think you know the right words.”

Sebastian smiles at you, the corners of his mouth tugging up just enough that his eyes crinkle and he nods. “Y/N,” he begins, looking to his letters for strength but he knows he doesn’t need it. “Y/N, I love you. I’m in love with you. I want to be with you and I want to go on adventures with you and I want to smile with you and I want, I just want you.” His hand cups your cheek, bringing you closer to him as your eyes flutter close and he whispers, one last time before your lips meet, “I love you.”

•

[frost-queen]

My mortal flaw // part 6 (Reader x Zuko)

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Summary: Reaching the city of Ba Sing Se, Zuko hopes his sister wouldn't find him here. When you get mistaken for Katara, an unfamiliar boy wages his presence in your life to the dislikes of your prince. How will the great city of Ba Sing Se work out for you? [series]

Iroh was fanning himself, craving for some water… or tea for that matter. Up ahead he saw his nephew pushing forwards. It wondered Iroh, how Zuko could go so long without something to drink. Not able to take another step, Iroh stopped, leaning against a rock. Puffing loudly from walking for almost days now through the Earth kingdom.

“Let me help you.” – you said, jogging up to him from behind. Barely having any strength in your legs as well. The weight of travelling for days on foot without much food or water heavy on you. Joining his side, you moved his arm over your shoulder, to keep him upright. Iroh waved his hand at you, letting you know it was alright.

Iroh nearly sunk through his knees as you kept him upright with all your might. – “Perhaps we should rest.” – you suggested helping him gently down. Iroh exhaled deep sitting against the rock. – “Get up!” – Zuko’s voice startled you. He stared at his uncle, having walked back. – “Zuko surely we can…” – you began gesturing at him.

Immediately silenced by him. – “I said up!” – Zuko cut through. The rest of your words swallowed back in. Iroh was already making his way to get up as you had enough of it. – “No!” – you called back. – “We’ve been walking for days now without proper food or water.” – you reminded him. – “Give us a moment.” – begging as you approached him.

“We don’t have a moment.” – Zuko replied, gesturing behind you. Without any other words, you knew what or rather who he was speaking off. His sister Azula. Ever since he knew she was hunting him down, he had been fixated on moving forwards. If anyone allowed him, he’d track the entire length of the Earth Kingdom just to stay way ahead of her.

Reaching for his hand, you clasped your hands around it, lowering his arm. – “I know you worry, but look at your uncle.” – you told him, forcing him to take a look. Zuko shifted his gaze from you to his beloved uncle. Seeing him puff to catch his breath. – “Give him a moment… that is all I ask for.” – surely the sympathy for his uncle would make him fold.

Zuko closed his eyes with a soft sigh. – “We’ll leave in three.” – he outed pulling his hand away. You bowed your head to him out of gratitude. Turning around, you rushed back to Iroh. Kneeling before him as you took out your flask. Taking the top off it, you offered him the little water it carried. –“No… I cannot take this.” – Iroh said, knowing it didn’t hold enough for the three of them. Shaking your head, you didn’t want to hear it. – “Take it Iroh. I’m not thirsty anyways.” – you lied to not make him feel so guilty.

You offered him the flask once more. With a little persuasion, he accepted the water. Drinking the little from it with some guilt. Iroh gave you back the empty flask as you putted it away. – “Can you go a bit further?” – you asked him, wanting to be sure he was strong enough to continue the journey. Iroh nodded. You made some way for him, getting up so there was room to help him up to his feet.

You dusted Iroh’s clothing, taking him by the arm afterwards. – “One step at a time.” – you told him. Iroh smiling back at you. Zuko waited for the two of you to join him before taking the heavy lead again. Forcing a way through the Earth kingdom with nothing but trees, rocks and ground around for miles. You so hoped you’d encounter a little village soon, just to have a proper meal and sleep.

You were relieved, feeling blessed when you finally saw the city rise on the horizon. It gave you so much strength, you could practically run to it. The three of you walked through the city gates worn out. Iroh looked curiously around. – “I know this city…” – he said taking an observing eye. – “Ba Sing Se.” – he finished.

It made you widen your eyes a bit, having read so much about the great city of Ba Sing Se in books. Never being able to visit it. In truth when you still lived with your tribe, you weren’t able to visit much things. Never going further than your own tribe. Now you were seeing the world with the fire prince you were promised too. All in pursuit of the Avatar. – “Now where can we eat?” – Zuko asked, secretly being hungry for a while too. Iroh chuckled when he heard Zuko’s stomach grumble. Iroh motioned for the two of you to follow him.

You noticed Zuko looking wary over his shoulders. Placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, seemed to startle him. – “She wouldn’t dare come here. We’re save here.” – you reassured him. Zuko took your hand from his shoulder, holding it for a few seconds before he let it drop at your side once more. – “For now.” – he replied, going after his uncle. Taking a deep breath, you waited a second before going after them. Iroh and Zuko walking into a place.

You were about to head in as well, feeling a sudden hand on your shoulder, put you to a stop. – “Katara.” – a male voice spoke, turning you firmly around. The gesture made you gasp. The boy blinked surprised, then his expression faltered. – “I’m sorry… I thought you were someone I know.” – he said lowering his hand on you. – “You mean Katara?” – you asked seeing him nod.

“You…you kind of … I thought…there aren’t many water tribe girls walking around the Earth Kingdom.” – he told you with a chuckle. It made you look down at your own clothing. They had been through hell, but they were still significant Water tribe clothing. – “If you know Katara, then you must know the Avatar?” – you asked thinking back of when you first heard that name. Kyoshi island. Where the Avatar’s friends nearly ripped you away from Zuko.

Thinking you might be a prisoner, when in fact you aren’t. The boy quirked up an eyebrow at you. – “Do you know where he is?” – you wanted to know. Just curiously, not even sure if you would give the information to Zuko if he did tell you. – “Why so curious about him?” – the boy curled up a smirk. You smiled sheepishly back at him, pulling your shoulders up.

Hoping it didn’t came over as obsessed. The boy than laughed loud. – “I was only teasing. So not Katara what are you doing so far away from your tribe?” – he asked slipping an arm over you. – “First of all, it’s Y/n. Princess to you” – you told him with an elbow punch to his stomach. 

The boy felt the air being sucked out of his lungs, coughing, holding a hand on his stomach. – “Second that is a long story I’m not sharing with you.” – you finished crossing your arms. The boy chuckled again, straightening his posture. – “Royalty. I see now.” – he laughed out. – “The name’s Jet, princess.” – he dramatically bowed before you, making you roll your eyes at him. Jet looked all smug at you. – “Shall I treat your highness to a meal?” – he asked speaking so annoyingly sweet.

“I will provide my own meal.” – you told him, remembering your company. Looking over your shoulder, you wondered why anyone hasn’t started missing you. Surely one of them must have come to look? Shaking the awful thoughts away, you turned around, seeing Jet fall in line with you. – “I will eat alone!” – you called out, shutting the door behind you. The establishment was not overcrowded. Looking around, you searched for your company.

You sighed disappointed, seeing them sit in the corner, already enjoying their meal. Making your way over to them, you came to sit in front of them. – “How sweet to wait for me.” – you said with a sarcastic undertone to Zuko. – “It’s getting cold.” – was the only thing he replied. Too busy slurping his soup with noodles.

Sighing softly, you picked up the spoon letting it swirl in the bowl. Your gaze got drawn to the doors, seeing them open. Seeing Jet enter almost made you spew your soup out on Iroh’s face. Coughing loud, you nearly choked as Jet made eye contact with you. Looking questionable at the company you were with. Zuko gave you some hard slaps on the back to settle down.

Pushing his hand away, you watched Jet come to sit at a table, giving him enough clearance to stare at you. – “Yuk.” – Iroh’s disgust pulled your attention away. – “This tea is cold.” – Iroh said trying to get the taste of his tongue. –“Just drink up old man.” – Zuko replied annoyed, not caring one bit about tea.

Iroh wrapped his hands around the cup. You watched, blinking in wonder as there emerged a warmth from the tea. Eyes widened as you knew Iroh had just heated the tea up in his hands. He blew the steam away before taking a careful sip. It made you look around, hoping no one had seen it. The last thing you wanted was another chase.

The three of you stepped out, fully satisfied. Now all you wanted to do was rest and sleep for days. Iroh was mumbling to Zuko, probably about looking for a place to stay as you followed behind them. Mindlessly looking around at your surroundings. – “Y/n!” – you suddenly heard, eyes widening as it only could be Jet. You turned around, seeing Jet jog up to you. Iroh and Zuko turning curiously around as well.

“I mean princess.” – Jet teased once he was near you. Zuko looked over at his uncle, trying to get some validation that what he was seeing was true. And not some hallucination. – “Are those your protecters?” – Jet motioned with his head at Iroh and Zuko behind you. – “I mean as a princess I figure, you must be protected well.” – he curled up a smile as you laughed sweetly.

Zuko took an annoyed step forwards. Uncle Iroh quickly grabbing him by the arm, pulling him back. Zuko stumbled back, looking confused at his uncle before slapping his hand off. – “No, they are my…” – you paused, not sure how to phrase it. Shaking your head, you didn’t want to go further into detail, not wanting to risk revealing any identities.

“I can show you around? Are you looking for a place to stay?” – Jet asked ruffling his hand shyly through his hair. Zuko looked disgusted at Jet’s gesture. – “We are. Do you know any good places to stay?” – you asked feeling a sudden pull on your arm. Stumbling back as Zuko stepped in. – “We’ll find our own place.” – he made clear with a glare. Jet took a step closer to Zuko, getting toe to toe with him.

“Where I come from, we show princesses more respect.” – Jet said, angering Zuko. Both men glaring at each other. – “She has my respect.” – Zuko made clear. Jet scoffed. – “Clearly.” – he answered smug. Zuko felt his anger boil, wanting to throw hands with him. – “Nephew.” – Iroh said to break things apart. Zuko huffed annoyed, turning round as he grabbed you firm by the wrist.

Pulling you away. Jet took out his sword. – “Hands off her.” – Jet shouted as Zuko paused at the subtle sound of Jet’s sword getting pulled out. Zuko turned glaring at the sword pointed at him. – “Let her go!” – Jet called out. – “Don’t worry princess, I’ll show you respect.”

You stared between Zuko and Jet. – “Let’s… let’s settle down. There is no need for swords.” – Iroh started. – “Shut up old man.” – Jet shouted, silencing him. – “Don’t tell him to shut up.” – you answered bothered at Jet’s tone. You stepped away from Zuko, coming to stand in the middle of them. Zuko wanting to pull you away, but you slapped his hand away. – “You should be treated with respect.” – Jet told you, taking a step back, yet his sword was still up pointing at you.

“You should be taken care of. By somehow who treats you right, princess.” – he finished. – “Like you?” – Zuko shouted with mockery at him. It made Jet clench his jaw. – “Clearly he doesn’t!” – Jet shifted his sword towards Zuko. Zuko inhaled deep, readying himself to launch at Jet if Iroh hadn’t stopped him. Stopping him by his shoulders. – “Enough!” – you called out losing your patience. You were too tired to handle this.

Not wanting to spend another second with these bickering men over respect, you walked off. Iroh coming quietly after you, not wanting to stop them any longer. Jet lowered his sword, gazing at your departure. He got startled when Zuko was up close with him. – “Leave my betrothed alone!” – he threatened before going after the two of you. Jet blinked stunned.

Iroh found a place to stay. A room shaped like a square. On three sides there were beds, curtains pulled before them for privacy. You went straight to one of the beds, pulling the curtains behind you. Zuko sat down annoyed in the middle of the room. His uncle joining him across from him. Iroh set his freshly set cup of tea down on the low stand between them. One look of his uncle, made Zuko sigh loud. – “I was civil.” – Zuko snapped at his uncle. Iroh quirked his eyebrow up. Communicating in silence as he knew how to handle Zuko.

Zuko sighed loud placing an elbow on his knee, chin resting on his knuckles. – “Who was he even?” – Zuko called out annoyed. – “How did he even know Y/n? Y/n’s never been here. Where did he even meet her?” – Zuko said bothered to his uncle. Whining about the fact another boy knew you. – “And the nerve he had.” – Zuko slammed his fist on the table, startling Iroh as it nearly spilled his tea.

Iroh quickly picked his cup up to protect his tea from any further stomps. – “Are you perhaps jealous nephew?” – Iroh casually spoke. – “No!” – Zuko replied, slamming his fist again on the table. – “Why should I be jealous? She is my betrothed. I’m not jealous over some guy taking an interest in her. She’s not going to abandon the agreement for him.” – Zuko let out clearly agitated.

“Then why are you getting so worked up over him?” – Iroh asked knowing just how to nudge his nephew just that little more. – “He’s a guy!” – Zuko shouted getting up annoyed. He stormed over to his side, pushing the curtain out of the way. Iroh chuckled amusingly.

Laying down on your bed, you smiled bashful, having heard it all. Jealous Zuko was something you never thought you’d encounter. Here he was getting all worked up over Jet. It didn’t take you all to fall asleep. Having been too tired to go on for any second longer. Day making way for night. Sudden noises made you wake up from your slumber. Moving restless in your sleep.

The noises getting louder as it made you jump up. Afraid it might be anyone to rat you out. Getting out of bed, you moved the curtains aside. Seeing the room was empty. Both Zuko and Iroh’s curtains still closed. Taking a calming breath, you ventured into the room. Sneaking out to see what those noises were. With one last glance at the others, you left the room.

Sneaking your way into the corridor to where the noises were coming from. Getting closer to it. Hearing it come from just around the corner. Ready to peek around the corner and be faced with the noises. A sudden grip on you, made you spin rapidly around. A hand getting pressed against your mouth to deafen out any screams. Eyes widening as he brought a finger to his lips, shushing you. Jet.

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